Boston Blackie

Well, look, we're in luck, Mother.

There he is, standing over there talking to that girl.

Recognize him from his pictures.

Now, Mother, I must talk to him.

You know that.

He certainly is.

I'm going to call him.

Oh, Blackie?

boston blackie calling me yes sir please could i see you a minute yes i guess so excuse me william mary of course you want to see me about something uh yes name's barton blackie john barton this is my wife martha how do you do this barton blackie i need your help doing what mr barton buying a new car yours looks as if it was 20 years old well there is but it runs

We've got her, Mother.

Blackie, my son is missing.

Been gone for 24 hours.

Oh, we're going to the police, all right, Blackie, but we wanted to come to you first.

You see, we run a small motel, you know, tourist cabins, out on Highway 19, about ten miles outside of town.

Joe, that's our boy, has certain duties around the place every evening, and he's never failed to show up for work until now.

He's tall, slender...

Straight black hair, rather nice looking.

Might have been because of Sylvia, though.

Who's Sylvia?

Now look, Chief Fisher, I'm here because I've got an idea.