Original subtitles

Oh, sorry.

My transistor radio.

Much more dignified looking than most models.

People are terribly impressed.

I understand these have become very popular in medical circles.

In fact, they are outselling stethoscopes. They satisfy everyone.

The patient is happy because he thinks the doctor is listening to his

heartbeat. And the doctor is pleased because he's getting the latest ball

scores.

Our play tonight is a blend of mystery and medicine.

It begins with what appears to be an ordinary case of dead on arrival, but it

turns out to be something less than that and something more than that. It follows

this one-minute anaesthetic.

County Health Department.

Well, just a moment. I'll connect you.

County Health Department.

No, no, no, sir. No, you want the animal pound.

But those pots do have to be washed after each serving.

Yes, sir. Chief wants you.

He cured your husband of ulcers.

Never mind how much the fine is, Mr. Coloni. Next time, we'll padlock your

restaurant. Yes, sir.

Tropical diseases.

Morning, Doc.

Which one have you got?

None of them, I hope.

I'm just brushing up on my medical knowledge. Too noisy to read in there.

You keep reading those medical books, you'll wind up with the symptoms.

We all do.

Morning, sir.

Morning.

Headache?

Heartburn. I get it every time I eat donuts.

Your new remedy?

Yeah, it's new. The manufacturer says it's a remedy.

These free sample medicines make a hypochondriac out of anybody.

I didn't call you in here for consultation about my heartburn.

From a state lab.

That bulldog died last night.

Positive rabies.

I'll get in touch with the Bensons. I already have. She's in the next room

with the little Benson girl.

She was bitten on the neck, you know.

The closer to the brain, the quicker the onset.

Yes, I'm familiar with rabies pathology, doctor.

But why me?

I heard you say that this job was more like being a cop than a doctor.

There's a chance to practice a little medicine.

My field is epidemiology, not pediatrics.

You haven't got a field yet, son.

You're the junior around here. The junior gets the dirty work.

That's the system.

Yes, sir.

Do you mind if I ask an impertinent question?

Well, go ahead.

If I weren't here, would you do it yourself?

No.

I'd have Abrams or Mackey do it. I never could stand the sight of blood or pain.

Hi.

I'm Dr.

Dana. Hello.

Going to hurt?

Not a bit, dear.

Is it, doctor?

Yes, it is.

We've got to do it again tomorrow morning.

And every morning for a whole month.

28 times.

No.

I mustn't cry.

Why not?

You go ahead and cry, Marianne.

You cry all you want to.

Just like when you fall down or you bump your head.

Have you ever done that?

Well, this doesn't hurt any more than that.

And it doesn't hurt just to hurt.

It was a bad germ that made that dog bite you.

But a wonderful man named Pasteur found a way to kill that germ.

That's what this is for.

Shall we kill it?

We'll have a look on the way

What do you mean, Doc?

Bruises sustained after death don't swell.

See, there's no circulation.

No, I meant that other, that... Oh, the Hippocratic Faces. Yeah, Hippocratic

Faces. That's the way the features of the dead man look if he's been very

sick. See, accident victims look healthy.

Miller must have figured this guy died of some illness before he got the

bruises. It's probably just another wino.

You'd better stop encouraging those autopsy surgeons, Dan. All they want is

somebody to talk to, you know what I mean?

Miller's okay.

Oh, yeah?

Never lost a patient.

And as I told you, there's no gross evidence in the thorax of the abdomen,

but look at that kisser. Yeah, sure looks like he had a bug in him.

Excuse me, doc.

Judd's a frustrated doctor.

Yeah, we all.

You done any microscopic sections?

I didn't want to spoil your fun.

You got the health department all wrong, doctor.

We don't look for epidemic disease. We just don't want to miss it, that's all.

Yeah?

Pardon me.

I nearly burst into tears last week when that likely-looking yellow fever turned

out to be just another infectious mononucleosis.

Just hit it guessing wrong is all.

Judge, you can get yourself something to eat if you like.

That banana boat can wait.

I want to see what got into this guy.

I'd like to stick around if it's okay, Doc.

I ain't too hungry anyway.

No doubt about it.

You have no luck.

Judd. I'm sorry, Doc.

What is it, Doc?

Bacillus anthracis.

Anthrax.

Any more on that hit-and-run, Doc? Yeah, sir. Just like I told you, it was no hit

-and-run.

Dan, Sergeant Boyle, Homicide. This is Dr. Dan, Dana County Health Department.

Kill us under that lens, Sarge.

Little rods with the square ends.

Anthrax bacilli.

You fellas identify the body yet?

No print record.

Doesn't figure he was rolled, not with the rings, money, pocket.

Looks to me like he was thrown off of a moving car after he died.

Then the jacket with his wallet in it must still be in the car.

Well, you better find it quick and whoever else was in that car because

they haven't long to live.

Came back for his shirt. It was a laundry market. Hey, don't touch those!

The piece of the shirt on the microscope.

Lousy with anthrax spores.

Just like his lungs. So are yours if you got near him and the rest of us.

I've got to burn all of our clothes and load up with penicillin.

That goes for everybody that got near him and everybody that's been there

since we've been near him.

Miller, get some penicillin, will you? Yeah.

Sergeant, you can start stripping. Wait a minute.

Bill, the city. One suit of clothes burned in the line of duty.

What am I supposed to wear?

Judd, call the sergeant's home and tell his wife... I'll call.

I don't want some stranger calling my house telling my wife her husband is in

the morgue naked.

I'm a very nervous woman.

Yeah, I got you, Doc.

Go ahead.

Pulmonary anthrax.

Incubates in 12 hours.

Spores can be transmitted on clothing, carpets, brushes, practically anything

that's had contact with the infected animal.

Symptoms. Just like a lot of other overwhelming infections.

Cough, cyanosis, fever, hyperpnea, dyspnea.

Never mind how you spell it. The important thing is that death occurs in

18 to 24 hours in 99 out of 100 people who get it.

Right. But penicillin is a specific.

Yeah, yeah, sure cure.

Can you make the afternoon edition?

Hello? Hello, who's this?

Oh, Mr. Hunsaker, this is Dr. Oliver, chief health officer.

You won't have to worry about the afternoon edition.

Dr. Dana made a mistake.

Oh, I see.

All right.

Forget it.

Diagnosis was no mistake, Doctor. No, but that call was.

That kind of story can be dynamite. So can anthrax. There's a disease that's a

lot more deadly than that, Doctor. It isn't listed in those books, but it

ought to be.

It ought to be under the letter P. P for panic.

No reason for panic. I mean it specifically. Reason has nothing to do

with it. That's what makes it so deadly.

Everybody would be doing exactly what Judd's doing here if that story got out.

They'd be looking up anthrax in their encyclopedia.

Now here, all domestic animals are subject to the infection.

And from them, glue workers, upholsters, stevedores, customs inspectors, tanners,

wool sorters, leather workers, farmers, brush makers, hunters, butchers,

herdsmen, shepherds, ranch hands, etc., etc., etc.

And the families of such persons.

And persons who have had contact with such persons. In short, everybody.

Isn't that a good reason for warning the public?

Warning them to what? Stop breathing?

Or to load up on penicillin?

You know, I wonder how many gallons it would take to pump a million units into

every man, woman, and child in this county.

I wonder where it'd come from, who'd pay for it.

We couldn't ask the governor.

By that time, everybody in the state would be hollering for it.

He couldn't ask the president.

By then, this whole nation would be in a state of hysteria.

That's for the United Nations.

I get the point, Doctor.

Just what do we do?

I was hoping you'd ask me that, in that I am the head of this department.

We proceed as we always have, one logical step at a time.

We notify the proper authorities.

And we wait until the police get a lead on the dead man so we can trace the

source.

You have no objection to letting the police do their job, have you?

No. No, I'm all for it. I just haven't seen any results.

Oh, wait a minute.

You're going to have to learn to wait, doctor.

Wait until it hurts.

Apparently, even when it kills.

Doctor, public health service is no different than any other government

agency. We go through proper channels.

And it isn't always as inefficient as it may seem to well-intentioned but brash

young doctors.

Oh, by the way, coroner. called. He's rather annoyed that you didn't clear

that autopsy through his office and instead of rushing over here with it.

He's no doctor. He's a politician.

What was that? I said he's not a doctor. He's a politician.

So am I.

Or he'd have had your scalp, doctor.

Winston Churchill.

Hey, Doc.

What?

Need a rhythm section?

Yeah.

See what you can get on that. Harry Slater. S-L-A-T-E-R.

What do you got here?

Oh, yeah, he's a bandleader. Plays drums. Got a little six-piece of combo.

Oh, yeah. My daughter says he's a hot... Your daughter's a... Got something,

Sarge? Yeah, a riddle.

This belongs to that corpse of yours, but who drove it here?

You sure it's his?

Sure, I'm sure.

I'm a cop, not a doctor. I can't bury my mistakes.

All right, Sergeant.

His driver's license.

Completely out of the case.

Harry Slater.

Yeah, he's a drummer.

Has his own little combo.

This his stuff?

Yeah. It's just about the right size.

Some of the shirts are monogrammed, H.S.

What do you think?

Dirty socks, shirts, wrinkled suit.

I'd say he'd, uh, on his way back from a little trip.

Somebody ditched the car after pushing him out on the freeway.

He was sick enough to fall out.

Like I say, I'm a cop, not a doctor.

How come whoever was with him ain't reported it yet?

Because whoever it was might be just as dead of anthrax right now as he is.

Is this all?

No.

Oh, well, it was in here.

Shouldn't have touched that, Sarge.

Now, look, I didn't know this was our man.

There's a makeout on and the boys keeping their eyes open. They see a card

and a license. Did you boys touch that jacket, too?

Sure did. Yeah.

Judge, you want to get the penicillin out of the car?

Hey, what's this all about?

You're about to get shot in the line of duty.

You too, Sarge.

Now, wait a minute. You told me back at the morgue that was long-lasting

penicillin. Can't take any chances.

All of us are going to get in one car and go down to the health department

lab. If there are any anthrax spores on that jacket, it'll be lousy with him.

Anybody that touches it will have to have his clothes burned.

Not again.

I thought that diagnosis was a mistake, Doc.

I'm Hunsinger, the Journal Express. We talked on the phone this afternoon.

What are you doing here?

You didn't think I felt for old man Oliver Stahl, did you? I've been telling

you all evening.

Now look, you've got something here and I want to know what it is.

It's anthrax, Mr.

Hunsinger.

And you've got it now.

Roll up your sleeve.

Say goodbye to your suit.

Hey, this don't make no sense hanging around here till closing time.

Maybe no drunks will come out.

That's when they do come out, closing time.

Ain't it, Gordy?

Sure, Alf.

Look, the drunker the better and the later the drunker.

We don't even know if there's any drunks in there.

You know something?

Alf's got a point.

Maybe we ought to go in and see if there's any.

Why not?

Wait a minute, how are we going to do that?

You know we can't get into a bar.

Sure we can, just walk in like anybody else.

Look, we can stay maybe, but they can't keep us from walking in.

Now wait, that might not be too smart, you know.

Let them get a good look at us and everything.

Consider what we're going to do and all.

You know what I'm thinking, Doug?

What?

I think Alfie's chickening out.

So do I.

Hey, what's wrong with wanting to play it smart?

You calling us stupid?

You know I ain't Gordy.

Then let's go, man.

Hold it, hold it.

That guy coming out, he's perfect.

Set up.

Hey, look.

How about I wait in the heap, huh?

I don't want any part of what you guys give.

Listen, I'll swing around, I'll pick you up. A U-turn?

That's against the law, Alfie.

Or maybe you just want to bug out and hang us up, huh?

You want it in and you're in.

Come on, come on, let's go.

to interrupt this commercial, but the local stations are clamoring to be

heard. I shall return to you after they have had their say.

So keep an effigy burning in the window.

Welcome back to the Alfred Hitchcock Hour and to another commercial.

Our sponsor persists in communicating with us week after week, although we

never answer.

You'd think he would begin to understand, but no, here he is again.

You were saying, Mr. Hunsaker?

I was saying, Doctor, that the journal expresses a responsible newspaper.

We don't want to start a panic, but there's a story here. My job is getting

it.

Oh, by all means, Mr. Hunsaker.

Don't give me that. You called my editor and got him to agree not to run a word

without an okay from you.

Well, Mr. Hunsaker, that's my job.

Mind telling me how you did it?

No, none at all.

I simply pointed out to your editor... Good morning, Doctor.

Heard you had quite a campfire here last night.

Yes. Did you hear anything from Boyle on Slater yet?

No, but I may have heard from the chief of police. It seems he resents you

ordering his men around.

Dr. Oliver, we've got to find out everything we can about this dead man,

and fast.

By all means, son, but do let us try to go through channels, huh?

Uh, Dr. Oliver was just explaining how he killed my story.

Uh, through channels.

Well, don't let me interrupt, sir.

No, thank you.

Mr. Hunziker, there's quite an agricultural community in this county.

Anthrax finds its origin in cattle.

Now, we don't know yet whether those spores that Harry Slater picked up, he

got them from local cattle or not.

But the news story at this time could start a rumor that would wreck the dairy

and the farm industries.

I just merely pointed that out to your editor.

Dr. Oliver likes to think of himself as a politician.

I don't like it. Just face the facts.

Even if we don't know for sure, wouldn't it be prudent to quarantine every head

of cattle in this county? Or is the welfare of an industry more important

than the welfare of people?

Industry is people, doctor.

I've seen what shutting one up and down can do to them.

By the way, you might consider specializing in gynecology instead of

epidemiology.

Seems you've got quite a bedside manner with the ladies.

Little Benson girl is outside waiting for her second antirabies shot.

She won't let Abrams or Mackey touch her.

She insists on that nice Dr. Dana.

Quite an operation you've got here, Doctor.

I'm surprised we don't have a man covering it.

It's hotter than a police beat.

Often there's a lot more at stake.

Mind if I hang around?

Suit yourself.

Only remember that sometimes publicity can be our best friend.

Other times it can be our worst enemy.

I'll try and make the right decision.

You won't have to.

I will.

Uh-huh.

I get it.

Dr.

Oliver.

Oh, yes, Doctor.

Are you positive?

Yeah, we'll be right over.

Miss Nelson?

Yes, sir? Judd out there?

Yes, sir. Tell him that Dr. Dana and I want a fast ride over to County General.

Congratulations, Doctor. You got your second case of pulmonary anthrax.

Doctor, I'm sorry.

He was an old man. He went fast.

Who was he?

Name's Dominic Shatava.

City employee. He worked for the Department of Highways.

That's his wife.

Total prostration by the time they got him here.

That bulletin from your office, Doctor, put me on to the anthrax.

Come on, look at this.

Patch of infiltration here in the lungs.

I confirmed it.

It's a piece of a shirt.

It's loaded with anthrax spores.

Same shirt he wore to work yesterday, according to her.

Mr. Tava, has your husband spent any time with a man named Slater?

Harry Slater?

Look, Doctor, why don't we have... Mr. Tava, where was your husband yesterday?

He'd work.

Like every day.

Was he feeling all right before he went to work?

Mrs. Chitrava, was your husband sick yesterday?

Did he say anything about not feeling well before he went to work?

Last night?

Mrs. Chitrava, when was your husband sick?

I no see him last night.

Only for a few minutes when he come home from work.

I work night.

Scrub woman.

When I come home this morning, he's sick.

Dying.

Miss Shatava, you've got to help us. A lot more people are going to die. She's

lost her husband. She is in no shape to answer questions.

I doubt if she'd know the answers, even if she were.

Dr. Taylor can handle the matters here.

I imagine you'll want to decontaminate your people that had contact. Of course.

You better start her on penicillin. It's a sure thing she's infected.

Thank you, doctor.

As soon as she's up for it, I'll see if I can find her. Thank you, doctor.

I'd like to ask you one more question, doctors. It's important.

Mrs. Chitava, did your husband bring anything home from work with him last

night? Anything that didn't belong to him?

My husband was honest man.

Yes, ma'am. I didn't mean that. What did you mean?

I just checked with the highway department.

He was assigned to a section of the freeway yesterday near the Oak Ridge

turnoff. That's where Slater's body was found.

There's your connection. Trouble is, he couldn't have had any direct contact

with the body. Slater was found at 6.30 a.m., and the meat wagon had him out of

there by 8.

The city work truck didn't drop Mr. Chitaver off until 9.

You think there might have been something else lying there? Something

belonged to Slater. Maybe something the police overlooked. Something that Mr.

Chitaver picked up.

My husband bring nothing home.

How do you find something when you don't even know what it is you're looking for?

Pastor did.

Hey, you know something, Doug?

What?

Rolling drunk sure beats swapping junk like this.

You know, like you get the cash right now instead of having to sell stuff a

piece at a time.

What's the matter with you?

I ain't feeling too hot.

Me neither.

Kind of like a soft throat.

Yeah.

Hey, you know, maybe we'll get the flu or something held up here, huh?

Are you listening to me? Yeah, Gordy, I'm listening.

Only like I'm thinking, too.

About what?

About leaving Alf's heap back at that drive.

Somebody might spit it out.

Well, what do we care, it's Alf's.

That's what worries me.

His old man gave him that heap, and you know Alf's old man.

Sooner or later, he's going to want to know what happened to him.

Alf knows better than to tell his old man.

I ain't so sure.

He's as scared of his old man as he is of you.

He might just blow the whistle on us.

Be the last time.

Be a lot smarter for getting back to him and cut him in.

Just for the time being.

You know, you might be right.

Might also be smarter if he was where I can keep an eye on him.

Why don't you go get him?

Give him back his heap.

Help, I ain't sore anymore. Bring him back here.

Hey. You okay?

I feel woozy.

I'll go back around the corner. I ain't about to find that the way I do.

Keep your pants on, Doc.

I got a dozen men on this, but we don't know exactly what we're looking for

either. All we know is that Slater was a bachelor, away for the weekend.

At least he didn't sleep in his apartment.

His landlady doesn't know where he was or who he was with.

We're checking on his pals, members of his combo, and all they give us is he

was quite a ladies' man.

They gave us a list, and we're checking that out, too.

Look, let me break the story, and we'll get results.

I don't have to mention anthrax.

What if I just run a picture of Slater and the fact that he was found dead?

Well, maybe you're right.

Might scare off whoever it is we're looking for, if they don't know it

already. But whoever it was, wouldn't they have to be down with anthrax or

dead of it, and wouldn't that be reported here?

Yes. Maybe they were immune.

Not to anthrax.

Why would they ditch a truck like that unless they had something to hide?

It might still be a murder rap.

Murder isn't all people hide, Sergeant.

Didn't you check her out yet?

This is Helen Fletcher.

Mary.

That'd be something to hide, wouldn't it?

We thought of that, too. She was the first one we rousted.

Thought we were onto something good. She was sick for the last few days.

She's okay today.

Her doctor said she has a touch of virus pneumonia.

She said she didn't even know Harry Slater.

I suppose you took her word for it. Of course not.

We're double-checking. It's a long list. It takes time.

Anyway, she had virus pneumonia, not anthrax.

Did she, doctor?

I think I know a case of incipient virus pneumonia when I see a doctor.

That's what Mrs. Fletcher had.

And I might just add that within 24 hours, she has enjoyed a complete

recovery.

Did you happen to use penicillin in her treatment?

I always do in these pulmonary infections.

Well, you cured her, doctor, but not of pneumonia.

You cured her of anthrax.

Will you please leave me alone?

I don't have to answer your questions.

You're not a cop.

Mrs. Fletcher, did the cops you did talk to tell you what killed Harry Slater?

No.

Why should they?

I told them exactly what I'm telling you.

I don't know anybody named Slater.

Mrs. Fletcher, you had the same disease yourself yesterday morning.

Now, you told the officers you were off sick for several days, but you weren't.

You didn't get sick until yesterday. Before that, you were with Slater.

Get out of here.

Okay, lady.

Whatever it is you're hiding. I'm sure it isn't as bad as murder and Unless you

help me that's exactly what you're gonna be guilty of murder Now you think that

over Doctor

You

are a doctor aren't you I mean a regular doctor and MD yes, ma

'am Well, then anything I told you would be in confidence, wouldn't it?

I mean, if I wanted it to be.

No, Mrs. Fletcher, you're not my patient.

But I think you better tell us anyway.

I was with Harry over the

weekend.

We went to Mexico On the way back he got sick awful sick

He asked me to drive and he laid down the back of the truck.

I Don't know when he got out or fell out or whatever happened.

I Wasn't feeling very well myself Well when I saw he was gone I Well, there

wasn't any sense in turning back.

I Knew he must have been found by then

What could I have done?

Nothing as it turned out. He was dead before he fell.

Mrs. Fletcher... What did you bring back from Mexico?

Nothing. Just the luggage.

Two bags.

I took mine when I left the truck.

Harry's was still in the back.

Was there anything else?

No.

Oh... Oh, yeah, the bongo drum.

Funny, I'd forgotten about that till now.

A bongo drum?

It was in the back with the luggage, but later it was gone.

Where'd you get it?

In Mexico.

Harry bought it. He played drums, you know.

Harry seemed to think it was something special.

It was.

What store did it come from?

Oh, it didn't.

He bought it from a peddler on a street corner.

He said it was all handmade out of the hide of a belly of a dead burro.

Well, that peddler is probably as dead as that burro by now.

Mrs. Fletcher, we're going to have to burn all the clothes you wore on that

trip. And I want a list of everybody you've been there since you got back.

What about my husband?

What about him?

Well, he was out of town, but he got back yesterday.

Will he have to know? He'll have to get the penicillin, yes.

Doctor, I'd like to explain to you about Harry.

Mrs. Fletcher, I've got to get moving.

I'm County Health Department, not Court of Domestic Relations.

I know, I... It's just that it was all so crazy. I don't want my marriage to

break up.

Mrs. Fletcher, does your...

Does your husband know about the pneumonia?

Yes.

Where is he?

At his office.

Okay, I'll give him the penicillin myself.

I'll tell him he had some highly contagious form of pneumonia, non

-fidelis pneumonia.

That's why he's being inoculated.

Thanks.

Get on that radio and tell Boyle to start looking for a bongo drum.

It's time to get Hunsinger started, too, and all the rest of the news outlets.

Hey, Doc.

What's non-fidelis pneumonia?

There's such disease.

Non-fidelis is Latin for unfaithful.

Sure, Doctor. We'll cut it in on our half-hour station breaks and feature it

on our next complete newscast.

Yes, but just make it clear that the one we're looking for is handmade and has no

brand name on it.

The last time we put out a bulletin like this was on tularemia. We darn near had

to vacate the premises.

Tularemia, well, that's a rabbit fever, and everybody left their pet rabbits

here for observation.

You know what rabbits are like.

Thank you. We appreciate it. Thank you.

Yes, Miss Nelson. Dr. Dana is on two. Thank you.

Yes, Doctor.

Yeah, it's anthrax all right, but he'll pull through.

He was lucky those punks broke some ribs and put him in the hospital, if you can

call that luck.

No, he doesn't remember anything about him, except there was just two and they

were only kids.

No.

No, I don't know if he had any contacts earlier.

But he was really loaded.

I'm going on the assumption he got them from the punks.

You know, getting mugged is a nice close contact.

I got Sergeant Boyle on the alert for two sick teenage hoods, and I could use

Abrams and Mackey as soon as they finish with Mrs. Fletcher's contacts.

From here on out, this thing's gonna spread like a brush fire until I find

that bongo.

Yes, sir.

Yes, I'll hang on.

Yes?

Oh, yes, Dr. Miller.

Yes, I'll send Dr. Dane over right away.

That was your friend Miller over at the morgue.

He's got another one for you.

Getting a telephone pole in a hot rod is what killed him.

Look at that face.

He got me looking for anthrax in every stiff they wheel in here.

Did a microscopic section of them, and there they were.

Bacillus anthracis.

Direct cause of death?

Broken neck.

Indirect cause?

Anthrax.

Witnesses said he was driving like he was drunk or delirious.

Not this suit, Doc.

I protected myself this time. I also got Doc Miller to give me another shot of

that penicillin. You think that might be one of the kids that rolled the drunk?

I wouldn't be surprised.

He's got a record.

His name's Douglas Lynch.

Pals around with another young punk named Gordon Sykes has really got a

record.

That's our boy. We better find him fast.

I checked his house, but he ain't been there for a couple of days.

Folks say they don't know where he is.

Probably true.

Not knowing where little Gordy is probably makes little Gordy what he is.

Any other leads?

Not yet.

The hot rod was registered in the name of Alf Colton.

No record.

Lives with his old man.

We called the house, but there was no answer.

We called him at work.

He says he doesn't know how the other kid got the car. All he knows is his

kid's in school.

County morgue. So we need a school full of anthrax.

Sergeant Boyle. No,

no, no. Okay. While you're there, get a full description sent on APB. He might

be there.

Come back. They're going to stop worrying about the school.

The kid's not there.

I better go have another talk with this old man.

The sergeant said when he called the Colt kid's house, there was no answer. I

was just wondering.

Maybe that kid's too sick to answer.

Get that penicillin kit and call an ambulance.

Now, take it easy, kid.

I'm a doctor. You're going to be okay.

No, not anymore, you're not. Now, listen, you've got to answer a couple

questions fast.

You just keep trying.

We're looking for a bongo. That's what made you sick. A bongo drum. Do you

understand?

I didn't take it. Haven't you got it?

Gordy.

We don't care who took it. Where is it?

Gordy.

Gordy? Where's Gordy? Gordy took it. Gordy. Has he still got it?

Nothing. I don't know. Where can we find him?

The beach.

The pad. The pad. Where's that?

It's down at the beach.

What beach?

What beach?

Devil's Cove.

You know where Devil's Cove is? Yeah.

He said they got a pad there.

There are no houses at Devil's Cove.

Where at Devil's Cove?

Where?

The rocks.

The rocks.

Yeah, there are plenty of rocks.

He could be holed up there.

I see.

How about that ambulance?

It's on its way.

There's not much more I can do for him here.

We gotta find that other kid.

Make it easy, fella.

I'm a doctor!

If you don't let me help you, you'll die!

You're a cop!

You want me to use this, do you, Doc?

You don't sound like you want to.

Well, I'm not much for shooting kids.

You can't see us up here.

Maybe I can get to it.

Maybe we both can.

It's not worth the risk.

You were going to take it.

He's as sick as I think he is.

He won't be shooting too straight.

Thank you.

Are you sure last year started like this?

How long am I going to sleep in tomorrow morning? I'm afraid not.

Tomorrow morning, the little Benson girls go in for a third anaerobic shot.

By the way, Sergeant Boyle's home sick. I want you to recommend him a good

doctor.

What, anthrax?

Penicillin rash.

This is the end of tonight's play.

For those whose appetite for entertainment is not yet sated, we have

another commercial.

As for my transistor radio, it seems to have lost its enchantment as far as the

medical profession is concerned.

The hospitals obtained their own transmitters and began cutting in on the

broadcast to page the doctors, sometimes right in the middle of a song or even a

commercial, something which will never happen on this program, I assure you.

Observe.