Yours Truly Johnny Dollar

Johnny Dollar - The Soderbury Maine Matter Rehl

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Duration:: 26m
Broadcast on:: 27 Jun 2024
Audio Format:: mp3

If you're a facilities manager at a warehouse and your HVAC system goes down, it can turn up the heat. Literally. But don't sweat it. Granger has you covered. Granger offers over a million industrial grade products for all your operations, including warehouse HVAC maintenance. And even better, they offer access to experts and fast delivery, so you and your warehouse can both keep your cool. Call 1-800-Granger, click granger.com, or just stop by. Granger, for the ones who get it done. Hey there, listeners. Are you ready to unlock a world of captivating stories, soothing sounds, and enlightening lectures? At Saul Good Media, we believe in the power of audio to enrich your life. And now we're offering you a chance to experience it all for free. For a limited time, you can get a one-month free trial to our premium, ad-free service. Imagine having unlimited access to over 500 audiobooks, meditative sounds, and exclusive shows, all at your fingertips. Just head over to www.soulgoodmedia.com and sign up to start your free trial today. No ads, no interruptions, just pure, immersive audio content. Don't miss out. Transform your listening experience with Saul Good Media. Visit www.soulgoodmedia.com and start your free trial now. We can't wait for you to join our audio community. Happy listening. From Hollywood, it's time now for Edmund O'Brien as... Johnny Daller. This is Edward Whiteman, Mr. Daller. I understand that Mr. Soderberry's death brought you here. Yes, thanks for calling back. I try to locate the constable, Fred Ramen, I believe his name is. Yes. I haven't found him, so I thought I'd talk with you. You were riding with Mr. Soderberry when he was killed, is that right? Yes, I was. I'll do everything I can to help you. And as a matter of fact, I just left constable Ramen. Oh, where is he? I'd like to see him. He thinks he's found the place from which the shots were fired. The roof of Goodwooden's store. I left him there less than five minutes ago. If you'll meet me in front of your hotel, I'll show you. Thanks, Mr. Whiteman. I'll be down right away. Edmund O'Brien, in a transcribed adventure of the man with the action-packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator... Yours truly Johnny Daller. Expense accounts submitted by special investigator Johnny Daller to Home Office Britannia Life Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Soderberry main matters. Expense account item $42.45, airfare, car rental, and incidentals between Hartford and Soderberry. I, for one, had never heard of the town, but I found it a few miles from Portland, Maine. The first two church spires and then the small group of companion buildings, all set against a peaceful New England background. The first thing I noticed when I drove onto a single business street was that some bunting. The first thing I noticed when I drove onto a single business street was that some bunting and a few American flags were still standing. Reminders of the ceremony during which its leading citizen, Gordon Soderberry, had been murdered. His personal secretary and assistant, Edward Whiteman, gave me the details after I met him in front of my hotel. The ceremony? Oh, yes, you wouldn't have noticed entering town from the east. You didn't know about the factory? No, I hadn't heard. You won? No, Mr. Soderberry... No, Mr. Soderberry built it during the first year of World War II. We won some sub-contracts from the shipbuilders and hope to bring new wealth to the town. The ceremony was arranged this morning because it reopened. No, it hardly could hardly have been called happy even before the tragedy. Oh, the town was the favor of the factory? Definitely not, as we cross over here. These people have settled in their ways. The factory changed things. Outside men came into work, married local girls and took them away. The farmers in the section lost the free labor of their sons to wages and had to hire older men. I can see how it would have set a place like this. You think somebody could have been incensed enough over the reopening of a killed Mr. Soderberry? I have no idea. I thought I should mention the feeling of the town. He and I were in the first of three cars driving to the factory. We were in the rear seat. Suddenly, he stiffened. He made this sound that... I couldn't describe it. I didn't know what had happened. I don't think I heard the shots. He slumped forward. It was all over. This is good with the store. Where was the car? As closely as I can recall, it was directly in front. Straight out from here. Of course, the show first stopped as soon as you realized what had happened. That'd be about up there near the wagon. There's a limousine I hear. It's pretty close shooting. The window's up or down? They were down. Open that is. How do you get up in the roof of the store? They're stairs in the rear. Fred? A constable run? Yes? Who's there? Ed Whiteman. There's a man here who's been sent up from Connecticut to see you. I want to ask you some questions. I have to go back to the office. All right. What can I do? Why did you pick this roof as the place where the shooting was done? Because Mr. Sorterbury's office was just in front. And none of the others, three or four doors here to the side, have stairs to them. That's good enough. You've been resting a rifle barrel on the falls front to be some pretty fancy shooting. There've been some fair riflemen in this section for a good number of years now if you know your history. I've been proud of their shooting at some of the matches we've had, but I can't say I'm so proud now. You have any idea where to start? There's been a man in my mind. Ben Southerly. He had a 16-year-old son killed by a band saw when the factory was opened before. And now he's got another young band. He'll read 16 next week. We walked to the Sutherland House, which was only about a quarter of a mile away, and Fred Ramen gave me the background of the town. The Sorterberries had been in control of the town and the surrounding country for more than three generations. Always they had been respected as thrifty, honest people, but never had they been well liked. The death of 53-year-old Gordon Sorterberry meant the last of the male lineage. The sole survivor was his sister Beth for many years as junior. The constable didn't seem impressed when I told him that potentially she was some $60,000 richer in cash in view of Gordon's insurance policy. We crossed a bridge to reach Ben Southerly's house and found his wife waiting for his near the front door. I know why you've come, Fred Ramen. I heard about the trouble. Mr Southerly wouldn't do it. He wouldn't do such a thing. Well, I didn't come to see right out that he did. Well, your husband, Mr Southerly, could we talk to him? Who are you? He's Mr Daller. Gordon Sorterberry ensured his own life. And this man is looking for the one that took it. Never go too bad as it goes to some other place. We have questions. You'd like to talk to your husband if you'll tell us where he is. You ain't here. And young Ben? Where is he? He ain't here either. Where did they go? We wouldn't come here if we didn't have reason to. The constable told me your husband has made threats against Gordon Sorterberry, because of the death of your other son. You must have known that. So now you must understand why we're here. Mr Southerly, the God-filling man, and he wouldn't take the law into his own hands. You know that, Ed Grilling. He called you his friend. I'm nobody's friend now. If you're convinced he had nothing to do with the trouble, why don't you tell us where he is? Because he told me not to. I keep my husband's word. He said, "Don't tell anybody, so I want." Well, when did he leave? Last night. He drove his truck. I know the sound. And if he'd come through town, it would awoke me. So he went the other way. I know that road. And where he'd pass through. Well, he don't leave me no doubt, Mrs Southerly. I'll have to put the state police after the truck. You have business, which you have to do, not mine. Don't you see you're making it worse by trying to hide the truth? Hide the truth? I'm keeping a trust, young man. And if you don't know the worth of a trust, you don't know the worth of anything. I went back with Constable Raymond to his house, where he lived alone, which doubled as an office. He phoned the description and licensed number of Sutherland's truck to his county superiors. And with the typical disinterest, higher echelon seemed to maintain for lower echelon problems. They told him they wouldn't be able to take delivery of Sothebury's body until the following day. That left us with no better than a vague prompt to when we'd get such vital points as the caliber of the murder weapon, the entry angle of the fatal bullet, and the distance from which it was fired. Raymond left me and went to talk with some of the townspeople in that evening soon after dusk. I went to the Sothebury home, hoping that his sister Beth would be in condition to receive me. Yes? Is Miss Sothebury in? Yes, she's in. I wonder if she feels well enough to see me. Does she know who you are? Not yet. I've been hired by her brother's insurance company to look into his death. Tell her that, please. Oh, yes, of course. Won't you comment? Thank you. My name's Taft, I'm a friend of the founders. Taft, my name is Don. How you do? Beth was in the sitting room. I'll leave it to your judgment, but it's a hope that his visit upsets you won't press. I won't. All right. Beth? Yes, come in, Lawrence. Well, who went... Oh. This is Mr. Dollar's from the insurance company. I see. Please, sit down. Thanks. I don't believe I quite understand, Mr. Dollar. I'm an insurance investigator. Oh, well, of course. Then would you prefer that we talked in privacy? Well, I'll leave that up to you, Ms. Sotomayor. I think Mr. Taft has stayed out of a sense of duty. No, I haven't. But at least this will give you a chance to leave for a bit, Lawrence. I'll be all right. All right, Beth. I probably should run home for a while. All right. And thank you ever so much, Lawrence. You've been terribly helpful. I'll phone you in an hour. Good evening, Mr. Dollar. Good night, Mr. Taft. No, Mr. Dollar. When did you arrive? About three this afternoon. Undoubtedly, you know more about this horrible thing than I do. I'm afraid it's not very much. I've been working with Constable Remen. He wants to narrow it down to one of the local men who is against the factory reopening. But from what I've learned, it refuses to be narrowed very much on that basis. Yes, I'm afraid you're quite right. My brother was not famous for making friends. I say that at the risk of sounding cold and unemotional. Emotion very seldom helps in my work. Which is ferriting out the truth. I think Gordon understood what he was doing. I'm sure he did. He knew that our people did test change. They simply can't cope with it. Yet he forced it on him in 1942. You changed yourself to be apart from your people, Miss Dollar there. Yes, but only by reason of inheritance. Change was forced upon me, too. I was much younger than my brother. I was sent to school in England, but I came back and found it quite easy. To forget and settle back into this tiny world. I suppose the whole town did during the years after the factory closed. Of course it did. There was one particular man, Ben Sutherland. What do you think of it? I don't know. I suppose his name is in everyone's mind tonight. The death of his son because of the hated factory had a violent reaction on him. And why not? He knew his son hadn't been born to stand in front of the machine that killed him. What did he say? He can't be located. He left town last night. He took young Ben with him. I hope it isn't him. He suffered to die. Oh, I could be troubling the general. Is your dog? Yes, general Scott. He did an alarm when you arrived, did he? Oh, it was the first I heard from him. Someone else was the animal perhaps. So that's how them happen. He's well-abled to fend for himself. He's up and up. He's up and up and down. By the time we got an oil ant in it and I found the dog, he was moving silently toward the house, trailing what looked like a fractured front leg. I didn't know what to think when I told the surviving sister about it. She didn't seem frightened. But I couldn't help wondering whether her loyalty to her people wasn't misplaced. And whether the killer hadn't decided to eliminate all the sort of areas from the town that bore their name. I phoned Constable Raymond as soon as I got back into the house, but it was a needless call. The sound of the shots in the quiet village had aroused everyone, and those who cared seemed to know right where to come. The first who arrived was Edward Whiteman, the dead man's assistant. Less than a minute later, the Constable and Lawrence tapped. After we'd made another swing around the house without turning up anything, and after we'd satisfied ourselves at Beth Soderberry, it was well-protected, Raymond and I started back to my hotel. Tell me about Beth and these others, Whiteman and this man tapped. Which end do you hunt first? Whiteman, he's not a native, is he? No, he's from Bangor. He came here when Mr. Soderberry commenced to open up. He's not an old friend like Taffen? Not hardly. Lawrence tapped was orphaned a good deal back. His folks died in the fire. Mr. Soderberry took him in, sent him to school in Brunswick. Taffed helped him with the factory last time. He made a smart man out of him. But I wouldn't say I'm happy with him. How come? Unless folks leave town and never come back, they're all mixed up. When they're twisted between like Taff is, it ain't natural. That's pretty much what Beth told me. She and him have been sort of thick, l've known. Well, I'll come across here. We've got your direction straight. Yeah. Where was Lawrence Taff this morning, Constable? You mean when the trouble broke out? That's right. We have missed Beth, most likely. Why? I guess we can check that, then. I'm thinking he killed Mr. Soderberry. I don't want anything to slip by us. You don't know us people. We pay what we owe if it takes all our life. The debt that was between them two was thicker than blood. Lawrence Taffed would have killed himself before he would have killed Mr. Soderberry. You know them better than I do. That's the truth. I'll see you in the morning. I hope you sleep well. The next day things moved along a little more according to the book. The county men arrived before noon to remove the body for autopsy and ballistics examination and soon after they left the report. The county men arrived before noon to remove the body for autopsy and ballistics examination and soon after they left the report came from the state police. Ben Southerland and his truck had been spotted leaving a town five miles away. A car escorted him to Soderberry and the constable and I were at his house when he arrived. Oh, Ben, what's ever happened to you? Ben? Stop your neck and tongue. Go in the house where you're suited to be. I'll send to you prior to another mine trip. Yes, Ben. I was only worried I had got hurt so horrible. Run the look of your face and your clothes, Ben. You've been through one thing or another. Who might you be? My name is Dollar. I am an insurance investigator. You seem to help me defend the laws of the state, Ben. And it's true, Fred, that Mr. Southerberry was shot and killed. That's true? When did you hear about him, Mr. Southerland? Those men that stopped me, they told me. They told me you wanted to talk to me about it, Fred. That's true. And I don't take it because we were friends. You left town, I'd before last, Mr. Southerland. Where'd you go? Do I have to answer this stranger's question? It'll be better if you do. And that night I made up my mind what I had to do. I took young Ben away. That's my youngest son. I sort of took my oldest boy. I knew I should have, but I listened to the talk about the factory and wages and such things. So I didn't take him. And that factory did. And I never got him back. And you blame Gordon Southerberry for it all these years? No, I blame myself. I knew what to do and I didn't do it. Didn't you make public threats against him? That was a coward's talk. I talked big in front of my friends. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't kill him, Fred. Where'd you go the other night? I heard the talk start again. Young Ben talking about the factory and what the wages would buy. He'd be careful, he told me. And if he earned enough wages, he'd go to school like Lawrence Taft, crazy like his brother. And I put an axe handle to him and put him in the truck and carried him away. Where am Mr. Southerly? He's on a farm where he belongs. Up north. He's on a farm where he'd be sick. How far away is it? More than 20 miles. What time did you leave? After nine o'clock. You got there before midnight then. He slept in the truck. Left him with Alex Turner. Son of a. Then you had time to drive back here before the factory. Then you had time to drive back here before the factory ceremony started. I went to Brighton. Your face has scratched and cut. Your clothes are torn. How did that happen? I fought for the men. What man and why did you fight? I don't know what man. I don't know who I fought because I was drunk. I went to Brighton to drink and that's what I did. Not for nine years. Did that happen? You didn't come back here last night and have to find out a dog at the Southerly Place. I was in Brighton. If you worry, you'll probably be asked to prove it. That's where I was. And you'd better start remembering who you fought or who you were with. That's all for me, Constable. We were involved with approximately 280 people, most of whom were known to each other by sight at least. The work Constable Remin had been doing without me had alibi'd most of them. Practically everybody had been on the street during the start of the ceremony and at the time of the shooting. Less than 40 were unaccounted for at 5.30 that afternoon when the county officers called in their report. Point of entry was just below the left arm fit the arm hadn't been touched. Angle of entry still made it look like the killer had fired from the roof of the store. And the murder weapon was identified as a not too common rifle, caliber 253,000. And an hour the unaccounted for citizens seemed to be trimmed down at four who owned that caliber rifle. Then Sutherland was among them. It was close to noon the following day before the results of the test firing came back. The murder weapon was among the rifles that were sent in. Well then I did something wrong. I am no great shapes of trouble like this. It's not necessarily that we did something wrong, Constable. Maybe we just didn't do quite enough. One of those 253,000's got away from us. A man's rifle is no secret here, he's proud of it. What kind of rifle did Gordon sort of very own? Why? The townspeople hated the factory. That's the motive we've given them. But none of them owned the murder weapon. Not even poor Ben Sutherland was a stronger motive than anyone else. Unless he could have bought a rifle with just this in mind and kept it hidden. I don't know. We'll work on that too. But for now let's look at the people we've neglected. Edward Whiteman can't be involved because he was sitting next to the victim. You tell me Lawrence Taft is clear. He wouldn't ever kill Mr. Soderbergh. Then the sister, she seems to belong more to the town than to the family. She didn't approve of what her brother was doing. I can't hold a thing like that in my mind. We don't kill our kin here. There are some that have. Will you do this for me? Will you get the three of them in here and keep them for an hour? But how would I keep them? I don't know, write up a statement for them to sign, something about the ballistics reports. You can spend some time over them. Then ask the sister to go into detail about what she's going to do with the factory. I'll try to take less than an hour. I ain't saying I can do it word for word, but I'll try. And if you will write that statement, I'll be obliged. I ain't so good with a pencil. It took me somewhat less than an hour, and what I found didn't make sense for a while. A rifle, well-hidden beneath some torn clothes in the closet. The rifle's caliber matched that of the weapon that had killed Gordon Soderbergh. I reached his home soon after his sister did. Well, yes, he's here, Mr. Dollar. How must you know what laid behind the trouble the other morning? I beg your pardon? If you know who killed your brother, you'd better clear your skirts. Two people are going to tear up any lies, you tell. Mr. Dollar, if you know, please tell me. Lawrence, tap. Oh, no. No, he didn't. Why do you say that? Well, you'd pretty much clear the whole town of the murder. You can't do that without having something left over. Oh, but you were wrong. Lawrence wouldn't kill my brother? That's what I've been told. But would you react the same way if Edward Whiteman was dead, and I told you tap that killed him? I'm sorry, Lawrence, Lawrence, come here. I'm here, brother. It isn't true. It isn't true. Is it true? It isn't true. I heard what you said, Mr. Dollar. What reason would you have the same thing like that? I just left your house. In it, I found a rifle and some clothing that was torn by the dog last night. When you evidently came back to over here, what I said to Beth. Lawrence. You didn't have any reason to kill Gordon Sorterberry, did you? No, I didn't. But you hated Whiteman, didn't you? What reason would I... The factory for one. You were important last time, but you were left out the other morning, isn't it, right? Oh, always the factory. What difference did it make to you, Lawrence? Remin told me the people... Remin told me you people always paid your debts. Maybe that was it. That an outsider came in and forced him out so he couldn't prove himself. Maybe he was afraid Whiteman would force out of your life, too. I don't know. Lawrence, you didn't think that I... Yes. You did try to kill Edward Whiteman. Yes. And Gordon Sorterberry was killed by mistake. Yes. Lawrence, no. I didn't mean to. I know I'm weak and I'm mixed up. I don't know where I belong. I knew he couldn't stay here. Whiteman was taking my place and I knew people were laughing at me because I failed. I did try to kill him. I thought it was for you. I didn't know until later I found out. Later. I thought it was Gordon Sorterberry. Gordon. I own everything. Expense account item two, same as item one, transportation back to Hartford. Expense account total, $84.90. Remarks? None. Except that maybe the now wealthy Beth Sorterberry may have been right. That anybody with generations of background in an insular village like that does take a gamble when he comes out. To say nothing of a half generation hard for him when he goes in, yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly Johnny Dollar stars Edmund O'Brien in the title role and is written by Gill Dowd with music by Wilbur Hatch. Edmund O'Brien can soon be seen in the Paramount Pictures production Warpath. Featured in tonight's cast were Robert Mcknier, Virginia Gregg, Larry Thor, Sammy Hill, Herb Butterfield and David Light. Yours truly Johnny Dollar, was transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Del Valle. This is Bob Lamond inviting you to join us next week at this time when Edmund O'Brien returns as yours truly Johnny Dollar. If your facilities manager at a warehouse and your HVAC system goes down, it can turn up the heat, literally. But don't sweat it, Granger has you covered. Granger offers over a million industrial grade products for all your operations, including warehouse HVAC maintenance. And even better, they offer access to experts and fast delivery, so you and your warehouse can both keep your cool. Call 1-800-GRANGER, click Ranger.com or just stop by. Granger, for the ones who get it done. Hey there, it's Solomon from Salt Good Media. A lot of our listeners have asked how to get ad-free access to our podcasts. 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