All language subtitles for S01E22 - Diagnosis Danger

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

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. No, but I don't know the number.

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

Yes, sir.

Yes,

sir.

Tropical disease.

Good morning, Doc.

Which one have you got?

None of them, I hope.

I'll just brush it 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.

A new remedy?

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

These free sample medicines will make a
hypochondriac out of anybody.

I didn't call you in here for a
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

the little Benson girl.

She was bitten on the neck, you know.

Closer to the brain, the quicker the
onset.

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

But why me?

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

So here'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 important
question?

No, 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.

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.

He doesn'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?

There have been animals torn deep in the
rack. Hey, your buddy at the morgue

called. Miller?

Yeah, says he thinks he's got something.

What? A stiff, I guess. How's that for a
fast diagnosis?

That's hilarious.

Cops picked this one up in a ditch next
to the freeway. Had it figured for a hit

and run. No pedestrians on the freeway.

Sherlock Holmes.

Hey, how does Miller figure it?

Oh, he hasn't yet. The guy had multiple
contusions with no swelling and

pronounced hippocratic fascia.

We'll have a look on the way. Yeah, do
that.

What do you mean, Doc?

Bruises sustain after death don't swell.

See, there's no circulation.

No, I meant that other, that... Oh, the
hippocratic fascia. Yeah, hippocratic

fascia. That's the way the features of a
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. Probably just another wine
-out.

You 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.

What?

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

look at that kisser. Yeah? Sure looks
like he had a bug in him.

Excuse me, Doc.

Jed'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.

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

turned out to be just another infectious
mononucleosis.

Just hated guessing wrong, was 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.

We don't know, look.

Judd. Sorry, Doc.

What is it, Doc?

Sillus dendritus.

Anthrax.

Any more on that hit -and -run, Doc?
Yeah, sir. Just like I told you, it was

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
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

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 it.

We'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 near us

since we've been near him.

Miller, get some penicillin, will you?
Yeah.

Sergeant, you can start stripping. Wait
a minute.

Fill 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 very nervous.

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

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

to be.

It ought to be under the letter P. P for
panic. No reason for panic. I mean,

it's... 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, brushmakers, 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?

Put a load up on penicillin?

How many gallons it would take to pump a
million units into every man, woman,

and child in this county.

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

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.

He's rather annoyed that you didn't
clear that autopsy through his office

instead of rushing over here with it.

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

What's 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.

Need a rhythm section?

Yeah.

S -L -A -T -E -R.

What do we got here?

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

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

Sargent? Yeah, a riddle.

This belongs to that corpse of yours,
but who drove it here? You sure it's

Sure, I'm sure.

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

All right, Sargent.

His driver's license.

Put it in the navigation.

Harry Slater.

Yeah, he's a drummer.

He 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's on his way back from a
little trip.

Somebody ditched the car after pushing
him out on the freeway. He was sick in a

fallout.

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 a threat right now as he is.

Is it, though?

No.

Oh, well, it was in here.

Shouldn't have touched that, Sarge.

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

So make out on him. The boys keeping
their eyes open. They see a card and a

license. You boys touch that jacket,
too?

Sure did. Yeah.

Judd, 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

If any anthrax pours on that jacket,
it'll be lousy.

Anybody that touched him left half his
clothes burned.

Not again.

I thought that diagnosis was a mistake,
Doc.

I'm Hunsinger, the Journal Express. We
talked in the bonus afternoon.

What are you doing here?

You didn't think I'd help an 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.

those tents 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?

No, we can't get into a bar.

Oh, I hear we can't. Just walk in like
anybody else.

Look, we can't 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?

That the coffee's chickening out.

So do I.

What's wrong with wanting to play it
smart?

You calling us stupid?

You know I ain't Gordy.

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 me.

Listen, I'll swing around and I'll pick
you up. Are you turning?

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.

Let's go.

We hate to interrupt this commercial,
but the local stations are clamoring to

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

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

What are you saying, Mr. Huntsman?

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

Oh, yeah, by all means, Mr. Hunter.

Now, don't give me that. You called my
editor and got him to agree not to run a

word without an okay from you.

Now, Mr. Hunter, that's my job.

Why don't you tell 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... The mayor

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

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

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

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
four that Harry Slater picked up be...

whether 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

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 Maggie 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.

Oh, yes, Doctor.

Are you positive?

Yeah, we'll be right over.

No.

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.

I'm sorry.

He was an old man. He went fast.

Who was he?

Name's Dominic Shataba. City employee.
He worked for the Department of

That's his wife.

Told him 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.

Pantry infiltration here.

The lungs.

I confirmed it.

It's a piece of his 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.

You've got to help us. A lot more people
are going to die. 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 on penicillin. It's a
sure thing she's infected.

Thank you, doctor.

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

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

Mrs. Chutava, 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

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.

Find something when you don't even know
what it is you're looking for.

Pastor did.

Hey, you know something, Doug?

What?

Rolling drugs should be swapping junk
like this.

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

time.

What's the matter with you?

I ain't feeling too hot.

Me neither.

Kind of like a soft rope.

Yeah.

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

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

You're like I'm thinking, too.

About what?

About leaving Alcee back at that tribe.

Somebody might spit with her.

But what do we catch, Alcee?

That's what worries me.

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

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

Not most better than to tell his old
man.

I ain't so sure.

He's just scared of a grown man.

He might just blow the whistle on us.

Not the last time.

He'll be a lot smarter if we get him
back in about a minute.

Just for the time being.

You know, you might be right.

He might also be smarter if he was right
to keep an eye on him.

Why don't you go get him?

Give him back his teeth.

I'm not going to go anymore.

Leave him out there.

You okay?

You're woozy.

I was going back around the corner. I
ain't about to find out the way I...

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

quite a ladies' man.

They gave us a list. 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.

It 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

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.

Murderers and all people hide, Sergeant.

Didn't you check her out yet?

That's Miss 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

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 going to be guilty of.

Murder.

Now, you think that over.

Doctor?

You are a doctor, aren't you? I mean, a
regular doctor, an M .D.? 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'd 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
in 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.

When'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'd better 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

pneumonia.

That's why he's being inoculated.

Thanks.

Get on that radio, there's a dumb boy
listening 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?

It's not such a disease.

Non -fidelis is Latin for unfaithful.

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

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, too. I go.

Yes, Doctor.

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

It 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 going to
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
who rolled the drunk?

I wouldn't be surprised.

He's got a record.

His name's Douglas Lynch.

Fowl's around with another young punk
named Gordon Sykes who's 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 water is 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

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

They're going to stop worrying about the
school.

The kid's not there.

I better go have another talk with his
old man.

The sergeant said when he called the
cold 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.

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

questions fast.

You just keep trying.

We're looking for a bongo. That's what
made you take 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?

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 path 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've got to find that other kid.

Take it easy, fella.

Bye.

I'm a doctor!

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

You're a cop!

You don't sound like you are.

Not much for shooting kids.

Can't see us up here.

Maybe we can get to it.

Maybe we won't.

Not worth the risk.

You were going to take it.

Sick as I think he is.

He won't be shooting too straight.

to sleep in tomorrow morning? I'm afraid
not.

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

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

doctor.

What, anthrax?

Anacillin rash.

This is the end of tonight's play.

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

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.