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Murder on the Menu

The Fat Man

Murder on the Menu

Nov 17 1950








FERGUS FOGG, Pennsylvania farmer

MARIE, Coney Island waitress

MAN, at Coney Island photo shop

RATFACE, zoot suit-wearing killer

OPERATOR, on the phone

EDWARD VAN ZANDT, high-class and elegant

MRS. DUFFY, runs a New Jersey boardinghouse

LUCIUS VAN ZANDT, Edward's brother

plus a Coney Island CROWD

ANNCR: Here comes..THE FAT MAN IN "MURDER ON THE MENU" starring J. Scott Smart..and presented by the makers of CAMEL Cigarettes. 


1ST ANNCR: One puff won't tell you!

2ND ANNCR: One sniff won't tell you!

1ST ANNCR: It takes day-in, day-out smoking to find out how mild a cigarette can be. Make the sensible cigarette test...the thirty-day Camel mildness test - and see just how mild Camels are!

2ND ANNCR: Yes, and you'll find out why more people smoke Camels than any other cigarette! 


2ND ANNCR: There he goes..he's lighting up a Camel cigarette...he's stepping on the scales.. 


VOICE: Weight 234 pounds.. 


VOICE: Fortune..danger. 


VOICE: Who is it? 

FAT: The Fat Man.



FAT MAN: New York City has more people in less space than anywhere else. That tends to irritate people, which makes business fine for lawyers and psychiatrists. New York is also tough on psycho-neurotics, who get extremely irritated with their fellow man and end up by committing...murder...


FAT MAN: The observation deck, high up on the 82nd floor of the Midmanhattan Trust Building, seemed a strange place to meet a client, but then this was a strange client..and clients, strange or otherwise, were so scarce at this moment I didn't argue when he suggested I meet him there. I found him about noon with his chin propped in his hand, leaning on the railing, staring down 800 feet into the vast man-made canyon called Fifth Avenue. His name, appropriately, was Fergus Fogg.

FOGG: Uh...that's with two G's. F-O-G-G. 

FAT: (WRITING) F-O-G-G. And what's your address, Mr. Fogg?

FOGG: General Delivery, South Urbanshock, Pennsylvania.

FAT: No, I mean here. 

FOGG: Oh. Uh...Mrs. Duffy's Boarding House in Jersey City. Here's her card. 

FAT: Mmm...huh.

FOGG: Sets a pretty good table, Mrs. Duffy. I'm staying with her till I get my business things straightened out, if I ever do. (SIGHS) Dear me, I had no idea things could be so complicated. I just sent Tootie another postal [card] today.

FAT: Who's Tootie? 

FOGG: Tootie Fogg, my wife in South Urbanshock. You see, Tootie and I are going to move here. 

FAT: Oh? Why?

FOGG: We're going to rent out our farm in South Urbanshock and come here to retire.

FAT: Well, that's a reverse twist if I ever heard one. 

FOGG: Oh, we've planned on it for a long time. That's why I came with the egg money. 

FAT: Uh, what egg money?

FOGG: The egg money I came with.

FAT: Oh... Uh...so you came here with the egg money.

FOGG: Well, we wanted to invest it wisely, you see, so's to provide for our old age. Had to be careful, because it took us 41 years to put it by. That's a lot of years, Mr. Runyun.

FAT: That's a lot of eggs, Mr. Fogg. How much money?

FOGG: $1438.21. Tootie and I had a long talk about what to invest it in. Something safe, sure and profitable. At our ages you can't afford to start over, you know. 

FAT: Yeah I know..so you went to a stock broker and...

FOGG: Oh, dear me, no. I don't gamble on the stock market, Mr. Runyun. This had to be sure.

FAT: Well, that makes sense.

FOGG: Well, I talked to a number of gentlemen. One of 'em I ran into on the train...had an interesting deal on the George Washington Bridge, and... 

FAT: The what?

FOGG: The, uh, George Washington Bridge. It crosses the river up...Well, look, you can see it right...

FAT: I know where the George Washington Bridge is, Mr. Fogg. You say someone wanted to sell you a piece of it?

FOGG: Yes, but I wasn't quite sure Tootie would want to go into bridge work right now. It's profitable, though. I didn't give the man a firm "no"....just said I wanted to think it over. Then....let's see..oh, yes. There was the man who owned the Statue of Liberty.

FAT: Oh brother, what kind of deal did he have? 

FOGG: Very hard to turn down, Mr. Runyun...very hard. All kinds of people go out there every summer on the boat, you know... pay fifty cents apiece, too. Yes....I telephoned Tootie about that. The fella who owns it was a nice sincere man, and all ... but when I told Tootie the statue needed a coat of paint, she put her foot down. And she's right, too.

FAT: Yeah....I think so.

FOGG: Sure. I hated to do it, but I turned him down. 

FAT: Flat? 

FOGG: Flat.

FAT: Um... So, where's the egg money?

FOGG: You're standing on it.

FAT: Huh? 

FOGG: Mr. Runyun ... I own the Midmanhattan Trust Building.

FAT: How nice for you. All 82 stories?

FOGG: Yeah.

FAT: You bought it with the egg money. 

FOGG: That's right. Comes to a little more than $17.50 a story. 

FAT: That's a pretty good buy. 

FOGG: Oh, I know that.

FAT: Uh.... Where's the guy who sold it to you? 

FOGG: Confidentially, that's why I called you, Mr. Runyun.

FAT: Confidentially, that's what I figured, Mr. Fogg. He's gone. 

FOGG: How did you know? 

FAT: Just a wild guess. When did you give him the egg money? 

FOGG: Three days ago. Here ... here, take a look at this.


FOGG: Here's our preliminary agreement. 

FAT: (READS) "Hammerslag's Hamburger Heaven." This is a menu.

FOGG: On the back. It's only the preliminary agreement, you see. Uh...he wrote it out right there.

FAT: Oh. (READS) "In consideration of the sum of $1438.21, the undersigned hereby transfers title to property known as the Midmanhattan Trust Building, located at......" Uh-huh. 

FOGG: Signed "Lucius Van Zandt," with two witnesses.

FAT: Where did all this happen?

FOGG: At Coney Island.

FAT: Well, that sounds logical. Tell me this, Mr. Fogg...did you give him cash or a check?

FOGG: Oh, cash, of course. Carry it right here in my money belt.

FAT: Oh, I see. (PAUSE) Fergus, old man, I hate to turn you down, but I think you'd better take your troubles to the police.

FOGG: Nope. I'm hiring you. Here's Van Zandt's picture. There's him and there's me. We had it taken at Coney Island.

FAT: Look, Mr. Fogg, before we go any further, I'll have to charge you fifty bucks a day, and as I told you the police will work for free. Are you sure ...

FOGG: Sure, I'm sure. Just hold on now till I get my money belt off.

FAT: Van Zandt's probably in California by now. Your chances of ever seeing the egg money again are slightly less than zero! 

FOGG: Oh, I'm not worried about the egg money. I'm sure something has happened to Mr. Van Zandt, who is a honest, reliable man. Here's the fifty. That leaves me $18.00 to get back to South Urbanshock, so you better get her finished up in a day. (FADING) Now ... here's that preliminary agreement and, uh, you'd better take the picture, too ...


FAT: Nobody had fallen for this gag since 1902. I couldn't believe it, but Fergus was a nice guy and I was intrigued so I took off for Headquarters and the con files. There were no pictures and no record on Van Zandt. So that left only the "preliminary agreement." Witness number one was the waitress at the restaurant where the deal was made ... so I grabbed the next subway for Brooklyn and Hammerslag's Hamburger Heaven at Coney Island.


MARIE: Yes, sir ... what'll you have? 

FAT: What do you specialize in?

MARIE: Hamburgers, mostly.

FAT: Got any sidelines? 

MARIE: Well ... we have franks and sandwiches and ...

FAT: That's not what I mean. Here's my card.

MARIE: Hmm... (READS) Brad Runyun ... Private Investigator. I don't get it.

FAT: You're Marie Conradi, aren't you? 

MARIE: (PAUSE) What do you want? 

FAT: Here, take a look at this picture. 


FAT: You know these guys, huh?

MARIE: (FRIGHTENED) No ... no. No, I don't know anything about it. You got the wrong number, Mister. I.... I...

FAT: Hold it, baby. Look at that. Isn't that your signature?

MARIE: Maybe it is, but I don't know anything about .... 

FAT: Then what are you scared of?

MARIE: (PAUSE, LOW, TENSE) Don't look now. He's watching us. Listen ... I'll see you when I get off work at your office. Nine thirty. Okay? Now beat it before something happens. 


FAT: I could see who she was talking about in the mirror behind the counter ... a little rat-faced guy with a zoot suit standing next to the ticket booth of the roller coaster across the way. I shoved my card across the counter to her, got up slowly and walked down the midway. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him slide into the crowd and move along behind me. Farther up the midway was the photo shop that took the picture, and the guy who ran it, Appleby by name, was Witness Number Two.

MAN: Nope, Mr. Appleby ain't here, and I got no idea when he's coming back.

FAT: When'd he leave? 

MAN: Yestiddy ... just packed his stuff and took off. Nobody knows why. Been running this joint for twenny years, then, bingo. Acted like he was scared, or somethin'. 

FAT: Take a look behind me ... across the way.

MAN: Yeah? 

FAT: That little guy in the zoot suit. Ever see him talking to Appleby? 

MAN: (PAUSE) Yeah ... he did, at that. 

FAT: Any idea what it was about? 

MAN: No-o ... I just remember he came in a couple days back. I remember that suit, most of all. Uh, hey, look!

FAT: What? 

MAN: He's walkin' over to that phone booth.


FAT: I waited till Ratface got his number and talked a while, then moved up on the blind side of the booth until I was close enough to listen.


RATFACE: (FADES IN, ANTICIPATE) ... Look, boss ... all I know is what I just toldja. This guy moved in on the waitress a few minutes ago, then he went looking for Appleby. He's over there, now ... No, I don't know his name. Fat guy, looks like a flatfoot and ...

FAT: The name's Runyun.

RATFACE: He says his name's Runyun. He... He... (TAKE) What goes?


FAT: Just a second, weasel ... don't run off mad.

RATFACE: Get outa my way, fat boy.

FAT: Calm down. Who were you calling?

RATFACE: I said get outa my way! Now get outa...

FAT: Hold it, sweetheart. 

RATFACE: Leggo or I'll....

FAT: (STRUGGLING) Take it easy, sonny. Oho ... packing a gun, huh?

RATFACE: Two of 'em, fat boy!


RATFACE: (FADES, RUNNING) Outa my way! Outa my way!

MAN: (COMES UP, RUNNING) Did he hit you, Mister? You hurt? 

FAT: No.. Just seemed safer down here for the time being. (GETS UP) I don't know what to tell you..happens every time I get my suit cleaned. (BRUSHES)


FAT: Hey, wait a minute. Lemme get that..


FAT: Hello?

OPERATOR: (FILTER) You were one minute over on your call to Circle 4-1184. Will you deposit ten cents, please? 

FAT: What number?


OPERATOR: Circle 4-1184. 

FAT: Thanks, sweetheart.


FAT: Hmm... That's worth a dime.




FAT: Hello, Mr. Van Zandt ... or is that the handle you're using at the moment? 

EDWARD: I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir. I...

FAT: Try a little harder. I'm the fat guy with flatfoot written all over him..


FAT: ... to quote that Two-Gun Cowboy who called you from Coney Island. By the way, did he show up, or... (SEES HIM) Oh! Behind the door with the umbrellas!

RATFACE: Listen, Blimp, I .... 

FAT: Where'd you find him, Van Zandt? Under a rug after the fumigation? 

RATFACE: You shaddap, or I'll ....

EDWARD: Leave us alone, Kermit. 

RATFACE: I don't hafta stand here and take that kinda guff!

EDWARD: I'll let you know when I need you, Kermit. Is that clear?



EDWARD: Now ... what's the story, Mr. ah... 

FAT: Runyun. I'm a private detective, Mr. Van Zandt. I spent an hour this afternoon in the files of the Bunco Detail at Headquarters, looking for your picture. It wasn't there. I assume you want to keep it that way.

EDWARD: Well, I don't understand - but continue.

FAT: You took a dizzy farmer named Fergus Fogg for 1400 round number bucks for the sale of the Midmanhattan Trust Building ... Fergus Fogg hired me to find you and I advise you to return his dough.

EDWARD: So you've decided to turn me in, is that right?

FAT: Yes. Unless you decided to cough up $1438.21. Incidentally, that seems to be a pretty small score for a con man of your calibre ... or are things getting tough on the grift?

EDWARD: (DOESN'T GET IT) What? Oh. (CHUCKLES) (FADE) They're tough right now, Mr. Runyon. 


EDWARD: (OFF) You see, I... (TAKE) Hey, what are you doing with that gun? 

FAT: I get edgy when people open drawers.

EDWARD: (LAUGHS) Put it away, Mr. Runyun ... for heaven's sake. Here ... you see? 


EDWARD: I was all ready for you, with the money..not with a gun. Fourteen hundred ...


EDWARD: (FADE IN) ... ten, twenty, thirty, five and eight ... (COUNTS THEM) ... and ... (DIMES AND PENNY) ... twenty-one cents. You may return this to Mr. Fogg with my apologies. By the way, where can I find him?

FAT: Why? 

EDWARD: I'd like to send him a little advice. (CHUCKLES) Make it a little harder for the next salesman. 

FAT: He's staying at a boarding house in Jersey City run by a Mrs. Duffy. 

EDWARD: Thanks. (PAUSE) Well, I assume you've got what you came for. 

FAT: Why don't you level with me?

EDWARD: What do you mean? 

FAT: You're not a grifter. What are you? 

EDWARD: Why do you say that? 

FAT: They've got a lingo all their own and you don't even understand it, much less talk it. What are you trying to cover up? 

EDWARD: You have your money, Mr. Runyun. You also have your health. I suggest you count your blessings and go. 

FAT: That doesn't satisfy my curiosity but it sure sounds like good sense.


FAT: But of course it made absolutely no sense at all. The cheap swindle of a country yokel just didn't go with Van Zandt, the Brooks Brothers suit and the fancy apartment, much less with a hired thug and two terrified witnesses. But I'd found Van Zandt and the dough, which was what I was paid to do, and so ... pausing only for a full sized Italian dinner at Cherio's, I took off for Mrs. Duffy's Boarding House in Jersey City. It's nice I had dinner first, because what followed shouldn't happen to any man on an empty stomach.



FAT MAN: Well, some people are pretty gullible..easily taken in, like our friend Fergus Fogg. But I'd say most of us like to look things over pretty carefully before we make our decisions. You know, there's a vogue at the moment for quick, oversimplified tests of cigarette mildness, and some people are taken in by them. But I think most people prefer the sensible, time-will-tell approach. 

1ST ANNOUNCER: How mild can a cigarette be? Well, the way to find out is not one whiff or one puff, but steady smoking. Make the thirty-day Camel mildness test..the sensible test - and get the answer from your "T-Zone" -- T for throat, T for taste. 

2ND ANNOUNCER: Yes, smoke only Camels for thirty days. You'll enjoy the rich, full flavor of every Camel you smoke..and you'll see just how mild a cigarette can be!

1ST ANNOUNCER: In a coast-to-coast test, hundreds of people smoked only Camels for thirty days, averaging one to two packs a day. Each week, their throats were examined by noted throat specialists. These doctors reported not one single case of throat irritation due to smoking Camels!

2ND ANNOUNCER: Make your own Camel thirty-day test..the sensible test..and see why more people smoke Camels than any other cigarette!

SINGERS: How mild,

How mild, 

How mild can a cigarette be?

Make the Camel thirty-day test 

And you'll see!

Smoke Camels and see!

1ST ANNOUNCER: And now here again is the Fat Man.


FAT: As I said, the whys and wherefores of the Swindle of Fergus Fogg couldn't be made to figure on Harvard's Mechanical Brain...but mine was not to reason why. I therefore presented myself about seven thirty in the living room of Mrs. Duffy's Jersey City Boarding House and asked for my client. I soon realized Mrs. Duffy was just the girl for Fergus. 

MRS. DUFFY: (HAZILY) Let's see, now. Uh... You'd be...?

FAT: Runyun's the name. Brad Runyun. 

MRS. DUFFY: Oh, yes, Mr. Runyun. Well, Mr. Runyun, I'm sorry, but Mr. Fogg was called out a while ago. A party on the telephone.

FAT: I see. Any idea who? 

MRS. DUFFY: Why, yes. I took the message. It was a Mr. Runyun.

FAT: Oh.

MRS. DUFFY: A Mr. Brad Runyun. I remember very clearly. He... (TAKE) Oh. That's odd, isn't it? 

FAT: Indeed it is. Where did Mr. Fogg go?

MRS. DUFFY: Why, I have no idea. He just went off to meet Mr. Runyun.

FAT: Mrs. Duffy...I am Mr. Runyun.

MRS. DUFFY: Well then, you certainly ought to know where you met Fergus.

FAT: I ..ah..I'm having one of my stupid spells, Mrs. Duffy. Did you notice anything unusual about him tonight?

MRS. DUFFY: Why, no. Everything was perfectly normal with Fergus, at least after we got his room put back together.

FAT: Oh? Who took it apart? 

MRS. DUFFY: We were never able to figure that out. People come and go pretty free around here. As near as we can figger it was sometime this afternoon..someone just walked up the stairs and made himself to home..like to turned the room upside down.

FAT: Anything missing?

MRS. DUFFY: Not that we could notice. 

FAT: You're sure, now. You didn't find any bodies under the rugs or anything? 

MRS. DUFFY: Umm... None I can remember.

FAT: Okay..you've told me everything, now? 

MRS. DUFFY: Yes. Haven't left out a thing. You heard the same story I told her. 

FAT: Her?

MRS. DUFFY: The girl..the one I gave the letter to.

FAT: Oh. Oh...now we have a letter.

MRS. DUFFY: The letter that come for Fergus, Special Delivery only a few minutes after he left here.

FAT: When was that? 

MRS. DUFFY: Oh, uh...'bout an hour ago.

FAT: And the girl came right afterwards and you gave her the letter.

MRS. DUFFY: Well, she said she was going to see Mr. Runyun, too, and I thought it might be important, because it was Special Delivery and all, so I gave it to her to deliver. Uh... Anything wrong with that?

FAT: No more wrong than Prohibition. Uh... Did she give you her name? 

MRS. DUFFY: Yes, she did. Mmm... lemme see ... it began with a Q, I think.

FAT: Marie?

MRS. DUFFY: That's it! (SATISFIED) Now ... is there anything else I can do? 

FAT: Fortunately, Mrs. Duffy ... no.


FAT: If I ever decide to commit murder and want to confound the police, I will make an accomplice of Mrs. Duffy. I patted her hand and tried to smile, then climbed back into my cab and headed for my office. It was nine o'clock when I got there and I found a light behind my door. The file drawers dumped, the desk likewise, and the rugs were rolled back to the walls. As a matter of fact, the only neat looking fixture in the room was in the chair in the corner ... It was Marie Conradi, the waitress, well groomed, smoking a cigarette and looking considerably more attractive than she'd looked at Hammerslag's Hamburger Heaven.

MARIE: (SLIGHTLY OFF TILL INDICATED ON) Well ... you finally made it.

FAT: Believe me, baby, I didn't dawdle. You're early. Did you get here before or after the whirlwind?

MARIE: After ... or I wouldn't be here right now. 

FAT: Ratface?

MARIE: I think you mean Kermit.


MARIE: ...and don't laugh. He's a killer. I got off early and tried to get you on the phone ... no answer, then I went out to Mr. Fogg's boarding house in Jersey, boxed a couple fast rounds with the landlady, conned her out of a letter for Fogg, then got here in time to see Little Caesar walking out, he didn't see me tho!

FAT: You went to a lot of trouble to see me. How come?

MARIE: I'm frankly tired of Kermit's zoot suit. It's tough enough working at Coney without him waving a .38 in my face all the time. Anything I do to help put him away is time well spent.

FAT: Why's he waving the .38? 

MARIE: Well, three days ago Lucius comes in with this character from the country.

FAT: Oh ... you knew Lucius Van Zandt?

MARIE: Sure ... off and on he's been in the joint for three, uh, maybe four months.

FAT: Who is he? What does he do? 

MARIE: How do I know? All I know is this time he comes in with the farmer and they draw up some kind of a thing on the menu and sign it and I sign it, too. That's about noon, see? The very same evening comes Kermit with his zoot suit and the .38. 

FAT: The convincer.

MARIE: He says if I breathe a word about Lucius and the farmer...bingo. With Appleby, the photographer, he's tougher. He tells Appleby to cop the next train, otherwise he leaves not only Brooklyn but the world. 

FAT: Hmph...and you don't know anything about the agreement you signed?

MARIE: I didn't bother to read it, Lucius said it was some kind of a joke he was playing on his brother. 

FAT: Brother?

MARIE: Yeah ..he has a brother in Connecticut. Fine joke, huh? With bullets, yet. Now what kind of a joke would that be?

FAT: I don't know. (PAUSE) But I'm beginning to get a horrible suspicion.

MARIE: You are?

FAT: Yeah. Where's the letter that came for Fergus at the boarding house?

MARIE: Huh? Oh. Oh, right here, in my purse. (FUMBLES) Yeah... here it is.

FAT: Oh Brother - (WEAKLY) Move over ... I've gotta sit down.

MARIE: What's the matter? You look woozy.


FAT: You should've been nicer to Lucius, sweetheart ... there were great opportunities there.

MARIE: What do you mean? What is that thing?

FAT: Get a good grip on yourself. It's a Deed of Reconveyance, a Contract of Sale, and a batch of affidavits.

MARIE: That's bad?

FAT: No, that's good. Fergus Fogg has really bought the Midmanhattan Trust Building for $1438.21. Uh ... that's with the tax.

(MUSIC: IN AND UNDER . . . . ) 

FAT: Which explained why someone had dumped my office ... and set me wondering about the present whereabouts of Lucius Van Zandt ... as it was obviously his brother. I also wanted to know where my now wealthy client, Fergus Fogg, was. A logical answer was Van Zandt's apartment, so I put Marie on the Brooklyn subway and headed there. I pressed the buzzer, stepped aside and waited. Nothing happened, so I tried a couple more times, then skeleton keyed my way in. I stopped for a minute and listened.


FAT: There was someone in the far corner of the room.



FAT: He was lying on the sofa. It was another Van Zandt ... and whoever had trussed him up knew his business. He talked all the time I was untying him.

LUCIUS: (GAG COMES OFF) (WEAKLY, MUMBLING) It's too late, Edward, too late ... (MUMBLES) It's legal now. I've sold it, and it's legal. You ruined my life, Edward, and I'd rather give that building away than leave it to you. (CHUCKLES WEAKLY) It's quite a joke, isn't it, Edward? You were so patient, waiting around, knowing I was going to die. The doctor made that very clear, you know. But it's a great joke. How they'll laugh ... how they'll laugh... (PASSES OUT)


FAT: I had the phone off the hook to call the doctor when I heard the front door close. I put it back ... moved over next to the door and waited. 


RATFACE: Well, Pop, how's it going? Still gonna play hard to get? (CHUCKLES) Well ... (CUTS OFF) Hey ... what are you doing untied?


FAT: Hold it, Ratface ... don't reach for that gun! (WRENCHES)

RATFACE: Leggo me or I'll ...

FAT: Drop it.....Drop it.


FAT: Now the other one.

RATFACE: You stinkin' flatfoot, I'll ...

FAT: (WRENCHES) [(GUN FALL)] (LETS HIM GO) Okay, sonny now how tough are you now?

RATFACE: (TREMBLING) Aw look, Fatso, I was only ... (SMACK!) Look, lay off, willya? (SMACK)

FAT: Where's your boss and my client? 

RATFACE: I ... I dunno, Fatso, I ...


RATFACE: Leave me alone, willya? (SOBS) Leave me alone! 


FAT: Where's Edward and Fogg? 

RATFACE: (MOUTH FULL OF TEETH) He ... He ... they're on toppa the buildin' ... he tole Fogg you'd meet him on toppa the building... (PASSES OUT)


FAT: I called the doctor and Police Headquarters, handcuffed Ratface to the radiator, left the door open for the cops and took off downtown for the Midmanhattan Trust Building. It was after eleven now ... and as I walked up the stairs leading from the 81st floor to the Observation Roof I had the feeling I might be too late. But I wasn't ...


FOGG: (SLIGHTLY OFF) Now, Mr. Van Zandt, there's just no use wasting either of our times. I bought this building for me and Tootie to run and I intend to keep it. 

EDWARD: (EXASPERATED) But listen to me, you stupid hick! My brother was crazy. He ...

FOGG: Wasn't this his building? 

EDWARD: It was and it still is. I gave your money back to Runyun. Besides, you've got no proof of sale. Out of the goodness of my heart, I'm also willing to give you five thousand dollars profit.

FOGG: Wait now ... if the deal won't hold up like you say ... why you offering me money to sign that paper? 

EDWARD: You've got to sell it back.

FOGG: Nope .... I already sent Tootie a postal card, telling her I bought us a skyscraper, and I wouldn't feel right, selling. Now, if you please, I've gotta ... 

EDWARD: You're not going anywhere, Fogg.

FAT: (SHARPLY) Neither are you, Van Zandt!

EDWARD: (JUMPS) Huh? Oh..Runyun.

FAT: Put the gun down.

EDWARD: All right, Mr. Runyun..Okay.


FAT: I'll never be quite sure of what happened next. He tossed the gun on the deck..I moved around, with my back to the railing, and the next thing I knew he was running at me. Maybe he was trying to push me over..and maybe he was trying to kill himself, and maybe both. All I know is, I ducked to one side and tried to grab him as he hit the railing. I got a handful of the Brooks Brothers suit, but ..(RIPPING OF CLOTH) .. it wasn't quite enough. 


FOGG: (PAUSE) Y'know..that's a powerful long way down, Mr. Runyun.

FAT: Yeah. 

FOGG: (PAUSE) Maybe I was wrong. Maybe we shoulda used the egg money to buy the George Washington Bridge. 

FAT: No, Fergus. I think you did pretty well as it is.



ANNCR: (OVER MUSIC)..The Fat Man will return in just a moment.

1ST ANNCR: What cigarette do you smoke, Doctor?

2ND ANNCR: That question was asked of doctors in every branch of medicine, doctors in all parts of the country.

1ST ANNCR: What cigarette do you smoke, Doctor?

2ND ANNCR: The brand named most was Camel! Yes, according to this recent nationwide survey, more doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarette!

1ST ANNCR: Friends, try Camels and see for yourself the reasons behind Camel's great popularity - the cool, cool mildness...the rich, full flavor of Camel's costly tobaccos ... the smoking enjoyment in every Camel. Find out why people whose throats are their fortunes choose Camels..stars like Ezio Pinza, Lisa Kirk and Fran Warren!

2ND ANNCR: Yes, make the Camel thirty-day test..the sensible test...and see for yourself how mild, how flavorsome Camels are!

SINGERS: How mild,

How mild, 

How mild can a cigarette be?

Make the Camel thirty-day test 

And you'll see! 

Smoke Camels and see!


1ST ANNCR: Now here's the Fat Man with a special message.


FAT: This week, as every week, the makers of Camel cigarettes want our hospitalized veterans and servicemen to know they are not forgotten. It's a privilege to send free cigarettes to Service hospitals around the country. 

ANNCR: This week's Camels go to: Veterans' Hospitals, Lyons, New Jersey and Jackson, Mississippi..U. S. Army Station Hospital, Fort Hamilton, New York..U. S. Naval Hospital, Pensacola, Florida. 


1ST ANNCR: Tonight's program starred J. Scott Smart as The Fat Man and was directed by --

(MUSIC: OUT. .  ...)

1ST ANNCR: Clark Andrews. The music was under the direction of Bernard Green.


ANNCR: Men, for pipe-smoking pleasure, get Prince Albert, the National Joy Smoke! Prince Albert's choice tobacco is rich and flavorsome - it's crimp cut for smooth, even burning..and specially treated to insure against tongue bite. Yes, P.A..is America's largest-selling smoking tobacco!


[American Economic System

Advertising Council Announcement]

ANNOUNCER: The more we all produce...the more we all have to enjoy! And, today, as a Nation, we produce more...live better...work shorter hours than ever before! What makes such progress possible? Our economic system, including our basic freedoms -- An American's freedom to work where and at what he likes...the freedom of labor to bargain collectively...each man's right to own property, to start his own business, to attend to his own affairs! To keep these freedoms and, with them, our economic gains, let's work for our system and to do our daily work more effectively!

ANNCR: Listen, next week for that fascinating and exciting character The Fat Man, in the adventure called "MURDER IN JADE."


ANNCR: THIS IS YOUR FBI - the official broadcast from the files of the FBI - follows immediately. Stay tuned. This program has come to you from New York. (TWO SECOND PAUSE) THIS IS ... THE AMERICAN BROADCASTING COMPANY.