MUSIC:

ORGAN WASH ... OUT WITH--

SOUND:

PHONE RINGS ... RECEIVER UP

CANDY:

(INTO PHONE) Hello. YUkon 2-8209. --- Yes, this is Candy Matson.

MUSIC:

THEME ("CANDY," 1944 pop song by Alex Kramer, Mack David, and Joan Whitney) ... THEN IN BG

ANNOUNCER:

The National Broadcasting Company presents "Candy Matson, YUkon 2-8209."

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

SOUND:

BUSY DEPARTMENT STORE BACKGROUND

MYRA:

(CALLS, FROM OFF) Candy! Candy, over here!

CANDY:

What? Why, Myra Fisher! What are you doing here in a department store with your work clothes on?

MYRA:

(CLOSER) I work here, dear. I'm a wage slave.

CANDY:

Well, I must say, on you it looks good. What do you slave at?

MYRA:

I'm head of advertising and promotion.

CANDY:

Well, quite a spot, eh, girl?

MYRA:

Well, it was, until this morning.

CANDY:

Oh?

MYRA:

Now my neck is in the fire.

CANDY:

What'd you do? Forget to proofread one of your ads?

MYRA:

Nothing so trivial, dear, believe me. But am I glad to have bumped into you!

CANDY:

Maybe you'll change your mind when I tell you I've been shoplifting.

MYRA:

No, I'm serious, Candy. Could you spare a moment and come on up to my office?

CANDY:

Why, sure. And wipe that frown from off your brow -- it's wrinkling your makeup.

MYRA:

Well, yours would wrinkle, too, if you had a missing Santa Claus helper on your hands.

MUSIC:

THEME ... THEN IN BG

ANNOUNCER:

Well, well! Now there's a situation -- and it almost broke Candy Matson's heart when someone told her there was no Santa Claus's helper -- one Jack Frost. Listen. Here she is now to tell you about it.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

CANDY:

(NARRATES) That's right. What the man said. I ran into a deal where we had a missing Santa Claus helper, Jack Frost. The gent with the icicles was supposed to talk to the tiny tots at the Brownstone, one of San Francisco's larger and classier department stores. I'd gone down there that afternoon, shopping. I wanted a bow-tie for my old pal Inspector Ray Mallard of the San Francisco Police Department -- a bow-tie that lit up and spelled "cossack" when you press the button on the battery. That was when I bumped into this gal Myra Fisher. We went up to her office on the sixth floor and she sat me down. Cigaretted me, too.

MYRA:

You think I'm fooling about this Jack Frost thing, don't you, Candy?

CANDY:

Well, now, look, dear, we all have our little peccadilloes. Yours just merely happens to be a missing Jack Frost. You'll get over it.

MYRA:

I refrain from hurling this ashtray at you, Candy, only because of our long acquaintance.

CANDY:

Good.

MYRA:

Now listen to me. We've had a Santa Claus helper here for almost a month, and a darn good one -- the kids were crazy about him. This morning, he didn't show.

CANDY:

You don't suppose Jackie-boy got in the mood and caught the Christmas spirit, do you? The kind that comes in pints?

MYRA:

No, he wasn't that sort of Joe.

CANDY:

Well, your answer's simple: hire a new one.

MYRA:

They're hired through an agency. I called the one we do business with and they're fresh out of Jack Frosts. And I've got to get one, Candy. Otherwise I come down ten notches in the opinion of the brass.

CANDY:

I don't want you to think I'm unsympathetic, Myra, but what can I do?

MYRA:

Well, you get around, you know people. Find me somebody -- anybody -- who'll take over the job of being Jack Frost.

CANDY:

Hmm. Well, okay. I'll do the best I can, Myra.

MYRA:

Candy, you're a dear.

CANDY:

Yeah, one of Santa's deers. Okay, I'll try and find you a Jack Frost, Myra, but don't hold it against me if he turns out to look more like Humpty Dumpty.

MUSIC:

BRISK TRANSITION (QUOTES "JINGLE BELLS") ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) I went home and looked up the Webster definition of "soft." It said, "Soft -- easily yielding to pressure." That was me: Candy Matson, girl dope. Here I had all my Christmas shopping to do and I agree to find a substitute Jack Frost. I had no idea where to start, so I changed into something red and green for a stop-and-go, also for Christmas, and went over to see my friendly advisor Rembrandt Watson. Rembrandt is a photographer, and excellent, too, now that he doesn't have the sherry shivers or the port palsies. He lives on California Street, just kitten rompers from Old Saint Mary's, with a statue of Sun Yat-sen for company in a park next door.

REMBRANDT:

Candy dove, how delightful. Do come in, won't you?

CANDY:

Thanks, Rembrandt.

SOUND:

DOOR CLOSES

REMBRANDT:

Oh, pet, you're acquainted with my friend Diogenes Murphy, aren't you?

CANDY:

Oh, yes. Hello again, Mr. Murphy.

DIOGENES:

Why, good afternoon, lass. You look prettier than even the last time I saw you.

CANDY:

Uh-oh, here comes the blarney.

DIOGENES:

Young lady, Diogenes Murphy, the honest Irishman, never says a word he doesn't mean. How do you think I manage to sell so many used cars at me place out on Van Ness Avenue?

CANDY:

Because you're an honest Irishman.

DIOGENES:

Ah, but you're so right, lass. Incidentally, if you need a good car, I can get you one at a very reasonable--

REMBRANDT:

(INTERRUPTS) Diogenes!

DIOGENES:

Oh, sorry. I got carried away.

CANDY:

(CHUCKLES) I didn't mean to barge in on you like this, Rembrandt.

REMBRANDT:

Don't be ridiculous, dear.

DIOGENES:

No, don't be. Think nothing of it, lass. I'm on me way now. Rembrandt and I were only discussing the situation of the wharf.

CANDY:

And to what conclusion did you come?

DIOGENES:

Eh-- It stinks.

SOUND:

DOOR OPENS

DIOGENES:

The bottom of the afternoon to the both of ye!

SOUND:

DOOR CLOSES AS DIOGENES EXITS

CANDY:

(HIGHLY AMUSED) Oh, he's quite a boy.

REMBRANDT:

Yes, I'm very fond of Diogenes. What brings you around this way, dear?

CANDY:

Jack Frost.

REMBRANDT:

Ah, yes. Now, getting on with our conversation -- what brings you around this way, dear?

CANDY:

Jack Frost.

REMBRANDT:

Maybe the needle is bad. Shall we try again?

CANDY:

I know how you feel. I reacted the same way myself. I'll give you the pocket-sized edition. The Brownstone Department Store is without a Santa Claus helper, Jack Frost. He didn't show up for work this morning. I said I'd find them a new one.

REMBRANDT:

Oh, that's very sweet of you, dove.

CANDY:

Very dumb of me, dove. I know of only one character who even remotely looks like Jack Frost. I met him up in Alaska when I was traveling with the USO.

REMBRANDT:

Won't do you much good down here, will he?

CANDY:

No. That's why I came to see you, Rembrandt. Don't you keep a cross file on models you've used in photography?

REMBRANDT:

As a matter of fact I do. Here, in this little book. Let's see.

SOUND:

PAGES TURN

REMBRANDT:

Men. Thin, extremely. I have just one: Pietro Tarantello. Would you care for a Sicilian Jack Frost?

CANDY:

In Sicily, yes. Hey, what's that?

REMBRANDT:

Where?

CANDY:

On that chair next to you.

REMBRANDT:

Oh, that's the afternoon paper, dear. Diogenes left it, I imagine.

CANDY:

Yes, but on the front page--

SOUND:

RUSTLE OF NEWSPAPER

CANDY:

Why, here's the whole story about the missing Jack Frost on the front page. (MUMBLES TO HERSELF AS SHE READS, THEN UNHAPPILY) Mmmm, what he got in his Christmas stocking. A slug through the head.

REMBRANDT:

That's no way to treat Jack Frost.

CANDY:

And here's a picture of the guy -- without his false icicles.

REMBRANDT:

What a ham. Looks like he stepped right out of an 1890 Shakespearean play.

CANDY:

(CHUCKLES) I hate to say this, Rembrandt, but he resembles you.

REMBRANDT:

I take back what I said.

CANDY:

(INHALES, INSPIRED) Rembrandt!

REMBRANDT:

Divorce yourself from that tone of voice, Candy. I don't like it.

CANDY:

Rembrandt, I've got an idea!

REMBRANDT:

You usually do.

CANDY:

You like little children.

REMBRANDT:

Can't stand them.

CANDY:

You like to talk to people.

REMBRANDT:

I abhor conversation.

CANDY:

You like to be charming.

REMBRANDT:

Lost me charm.

CANDY:

Gay?

REMBRANDT:

Lost me gay.

CANDY:

(INSISTS) With the help of a few icicles, Duckie, you're going to be Jack Frost.

MUSIC:

BRIEF TRANSITION (QUOTES "JINGLE BELLS") ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) Rembrandt fought, he argued, he paced the floor, he had the vapors, he fainted. I brought him to. I won the argument. (MUSIC: ACCENT) I got my friend Myra Fisher on the phone and informed her that one "R. Watson" would assume the role of jolly Jack Frost on the morrow. She was delighted. I couldn't say the same for Rembrandt. Then I went home. I was greeted by a sound very much like that of a phone ringing. Using my keen instincts, I figured it was the phone. It was.

SOUND:

RECEIVER UP ... BURKE'S VOICE ON FILTER

CANDY:

Hello. Candy Matson.

BURKE:

How do you do, Miss Matson? Allow me to introduce myself.

CANDY:

Allowed.

BURKE:

My name is Burke, Prentice Burke. I'm the first assistant vice president of the Brownstone.

CANDY:

Brownstone? Oh, yes. That's a store of some kind, isn't it?

BURKE:

Er, yes. Now, the reason for my call. There has been, shall I say, a rather unfortunate occurrence in our store today.

CANDY:

So I read.

BURKE:

I need the help of a professional sleuth. You were highly recommended by the head of our advertising department Miss Myra Fisher.

CANDY:

A-ha. The thick plottens.

BURKE:

I beg your pardon?

CANDY:

Oh, no need to. You didn't do anything. Okay, care to talk to me now, Mr. Burke?

BURKE:

Oh, I'd much rather have you come down to my office, Miss Matson. This matter is of an extremely confidential nature.

CANDY:

I'm your girl then -- figuratively speaking. How long will you be there?

BURKE:

As long as necessary. That's up to you.

CANDY:

Very well, I'll be there in half an hour if I can find a place to park.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) I only had time for a fast change, so I made it -- from Indiscret to Tabu. I sniffed at it and felt I was on the right scent. Then I climbed in my car, drove down Kearney Street, waved a crisp single under the nose of a hotel doorman, and had my car taken care of. Then into the Brownstone and up to Mr. Prentice Burke's office. I flipped a hip past the girl secretary and walked on in. Burke was waiting for me; that was obvious. I could tell by the expression on his face. It was Worried Look Number 12-B.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

CANDY:

How do you do, Mr. Burke? I'm Candy Matson.

BURKE:

Er, oh. Sit down, won't you?

CANDY:

(AS SHE SITS) Thank you. Now, our subject is what?

BURKE:

Er, a man named Jordan.

CANDY:

That's on another network.

BURKE:

I beg your pardon?

CANDY:

Oh, that's all right. Now, about this Jordan--?

BURKE:

Er, yes. Ralph Jordan, to be exact.

CANDY:

Well, that's a relief. For a moment I thought you wanted to talk about Jack Frost.

BURKE:

That's just it. He was Jack Frost.

CANDY:

Ohhhh. Me and my big mouth.

BURKE:

He was working here up until yesterday afternoon. Er, maybe you read about it: he was found shot today.

CANDY:

Yes, yes, I read about it.

BURKE:

That's the reason I've called you.

CANDY:

Why didn't you have your own store detectives take over, Mr. Burke?

BURKE:

No. No. Er, that would never do. I want no one in the store to know what's going on.

CANDY:

Ahhh, intrigue.

BURKE:

Quite possibly. I have reason to suspect that Jordan was killed by someone in our employ. I want to find out who that someone was before the police do and get it splashed all over the front pages.

CANDY:

Publicity conscious, eh?

BURKE:

Well, business has been off for a whole year and any bad breaks in the press would hurt us that much more.

CANDY:

Maybe you've got a point there, I don't know.

BURKE:

I know I have.

CANDY:

Okay, I'll take the job. You say you have a suspicion. What is it?

BURKE:

Well, nothing tangible. It's just a feeling I have.

CANDY:

Oh, that's a big help. Well, I'll mush around and see what I can pick up. I'll bill you tomorrow for my first day's work. It's much easier to sustain a friendship on a daily basis.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) I left Burke looking as though someone had just called his store a bazaar. It was closing time, so I hefted my way through the crush and retrieved my car from the doorman. The Hall of Justice is right on my way home, so I decided to drop in on my old pal Mallard -- Inspector Ray Mallard of San Francisco homicide -- a nice guy to serve coffee to on Sunday mornings if you could ever lasso him. I never could get strong enough rope.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

MALLARD:

Candy! What brings you around here?

CANDY:

I hate to have my Christmas ruined so early. What about that Jack Frost character?

MALLARD:

Oh, yeah. Poor guy got it good.

CANDY:

Where'd you find him?

MALLARD:

In his apartment over on Seventeenth. He lived near Seal Stadium. Why so interested, Candy?

CANDY:

Rembrandt's a dead ringer for the guy.

MALLARD:

(PUZZLED) I still don't get the--

CANDY:

(INTERRUPTS) The gal who's head of advertising for the Brownstore was going out of her head for another Jack Frost. I talked Rembrandt into taking the job.

MALLARD:

Ha!

CANDY:

Hm, does sound funny, doesn't it? Bring me up to date, Mallard. Did you get any dope on the killing?

MALLARD:

Nothing but a .45 slug out of the guy's wall. Ballistics is checking it now.

CANDY:

Nothing else?

MALLARD:

If I did, I should tell you?

CANDY:

No. No, I guess not.

MALLARD:

This goes beyond just the normal curiosity, Candy. What are you drilling for?

CANDY:

Oh, only that I'm worried about Rembrandt. I got him the job; I'm responsible. I wouldn't want anything to happen to him.

MALLARD:

Ask a silly question, Mallard, and you get a silly answer. Okay, let's forget it. How's about dinner tonight?

CANDY:

(QUICKLY) I fought this thing long enough; okay.

MALLARD:

(BEAT, SOLEMN, SEEMINGLY ROMANTIC) Uh, Candy--?

CANDY:

(QUIETLY EAGER AND EXPECTANT) Yes, Mallard?

MALLARD:

We've known each other a good long time, haven't we?

CANDY:

That's right. Ever since the Fair on Treasure Island.

MALLARD:

We've had our little quarrels, little misunderstandings.

CANDY:

Oh, but they never seem to last long, though, do they?

MALLARD:

No. That's why I feel I have every right to ask you a question.

CANDY:

(QUIETLY THRILLED) Why, yes -- I'd say you do, Mallard.

MALLARD:

Maybe I'll ask you tonight.

CANDY:

No, no -- no, go ahead. Now's as good a time as any.

MALLARD:

Perhaps it is, Candy.

CANDY:

Hm.

MALLARD:

You get around a lot. You meet people. (BEAT, BLUNTLY UNROMANTIC) Do you know where I can get a couple of tickets to the Rose Bowl game?

SOUND:

CLAP OF THUNDER!

MUSIC:

STORMY ACCENT ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES, FURIOUS) My brain lit up like a Roman candle. I stormed for the door, turned back, stood there, my jaw waggling helplessly-- (MUSIC: OUT) --then I stuck my tongue out at Mallard and left. (MUSIC: GENTLE ACCENT, THEN IN BG) It was the only thing I could think of doing. Oh, he can make me so mad! (LIGHTLY) But inside half an hour, after I got home, I - I started to laugh. (CHUCKLES) Felt much better. Just as I was puttering around getting ready, the apartment buzzer buzzed. (SOUND: DOORBELL BUZZES) (TO HERSELF) Is that Mallard? Much too early. (NARRATES) But I was wrong -- it wasn't Mallard.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

SOUND:

CANDY'S DOOR OPENS

CANDY:

Well, Myra! What a surprise. Do come in, won't you?

MYRA:

No, thanks, Candy. A friend of mine's waiting in his car outside. He's driving me home.

CANDY:

Oh, I'm sorry you can't stay for a moment.

MYRA:

So am I, dear. I just dropped by to leave this. Merely a little token of thanks for getting me off the hook.

CANDY:

Oh, Myra, there wasn't any need to do that.

MYRA:

Just a few pair of old stockings, dear. Getting me my new Jack Frost means more than you know. Here. Please take them.

CANDY:

(EXHALES WITH PLEASURE)

MYRA:

Along with my very deepest thanks.

CANDY:

Well, thanks so much. A girl can always use them. Are you all set with my friend Mr. Watson?

MYRA:

Oh, yes. He came in this afternoon and filled out his withholding tax and so on. Very nice.

CANDY:

I think you'll find him very efficient, Myra.

MYRA:

(STARTLED) Oh!

CANDY:

What's matter?

MALLARD:

Pardon me, I didn't mean to frighten you.

CANDY:

Oh, Mallard!

MYRA:

(EXHALES) Silly of me. I must have jumped a foot.

CANDY:

Oh, that's all right. He frightens me, too. Myra, I'd like to have you meet Inspector Mallard. Inspector, Miss Fisher.

MALLARD:

How do you do?

MYRA:

Well, fine, thank you, now that I've caught my breath. Do forgive me, Candy, but I must rush. (MOVING OFF) See you soon, I hope.

CANDY:

(CALLS AFTER HER) Tomorrow, Myra -- I'll be down to see how my lad's doing as Jack Frost. Thanks for the stockings!

MALLARD:

(BEAT) Well, aren't you gonna invite me in?

CANDY:

(DRY, RAPID) No, I'm not. Here's my coat right here. What's our hurry? Come on, let's go, I'm starved.

MALLARD:

(PROTESTS) I thought we could have a cocktail here before we left.

CANDY:

You thought wrong. (WITH DISDAIN) "Two tickets to the Rose Bowl." From now on you earn your cocktails, Mallard.

MUSIC:

ACCENT (QUOTES "COCKTAILS FOR TWO")

SOUND:

CAR DRIVES OFF, IN BG

CANDY:

(NARRATES) We went downstairs and, as I locked the front door, a car was just driving off. It was Myra and she waved. And driving -- if these tired old eyes hadn't deceived me -- was Mr. Prentice Burke, vice president of the Brownstone. Well!

MUSIC:

BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) Oh, well. Mallard and I climbed into our car and drove out to the Cliff House. It was that kind of an evening. We had dinner and, after, I suggested we walk a bit. The night was crisp and clear, and the evening star was hanging out above the dark waters of the Pacific like an iridescent Japanese lantern. It cut across a little road above Sutro Baths where an old car barn had once stood and worked our way over the cliffs and stood high above Lands End. It was exhilarating.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

SOUND:

CRASH OF WAVES ... THEN IN BG

MALLARD:

Penny for your thoughts, Candy.

CANDY:

Inflation is still here.

MALLARD:

All right, make it two pennies.

CANDY:

Well, I was just thinking, Mallard dear. When you see a star in the sky, soft water below, feel Christmas in the air -- how can there be violence in the world?

MALLARD:

An age-old question, pal. One I can't answer. I'm too small. (REALIZES) Hey -- you're cold. I better put my arm around you.

CANDY:

(EMBARRASSED) Mallard, no.

MALLARD:

What's the matter?

CANDY:

The headlights from that automobile are shining right down on us and we-- (INHALES, TENSE) Mallard!

MALLARD:

Candy, what's wrong?

CANDY:

Got your flashlight with you?

MALLARD:

Sure. Also my gun and my handcuffs. Anything else we need? A mortar maybe?

CANDY:

The lights from that car -- they shone on something. Down there, under that tree!

MALLARD:

(EXASPERATED) Oh, Candy, just for once can't you stop digging up a mystery? Be human?

CANDY:

I am being human. Come on, Mallard! I want to see what's under that tree!

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) We scrambled around through the brush, slipped into some sliding sand, and rode the crest down to the tree. It wasn't easy to get around some of those brambles, but get there I fully intended doing, because what I saw was red -- bright red.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

SOUND:

WATER, THEN IN BG ... CANDY AND MALLARD'S STEPS IN AGREEMENT WITH--

MALLARD:

You - you okay, Candy?

CANDY:

Nothing that a new pair of nylons won't fix. Shoot the flashlight over this way a bit, Mallard.

MALLARD:

Ah.

CANDY:

There. That's it. Now -- do you think I'm dreaming things up?

MALLARD:

What is it?

CANDY:

Wait till I hold it up.

MALLARD:

Well-- Looks like some kind of a costume.

CANDY:

Right. And look. If those aren't bloodstains, I'm a Labrador Retriever.

MALLARD:

No, you're Candy Matson. Those are bloodstains.

CANDY:

How was your boy dressed when you found him?

MALLARD:

Torn slacks, sweater, shoes, no socks.

CANDY:

This was most likely his costume, then.

MALLARD:

Yeah. Don't move around too much, Candy. I want to have a good look at the ground.

OFFICER:

(CALLS, FROM OFF) Hey! What are you doin' down there?!

MALLARD:

Who's that?!

OFFICER:

The police! Now, get up here and don't try any tricks.

MALLARD:

That's all right, officer. This is Inspector Mallard, homicide.

OFFICER:

Oh! Sorry, inspector.

MALLARD:

That's all right. Stay right where you are. We'll be right up. (TO CANDY) Well, this is a break, Candy. I want you to drive me to a phone. I'll leave the officer here to guard the place. You can go home; I've got work to do here. Okay?

CANDY:

Yeah, yeah, sure. Well, for once we had dinner before you had a chance to break the date.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) This baby was hard to reconstruct. Was the guy knocked off out there at Lands End or was he bumped off at his apartment, the killer driving way out to the beach and hiding the costume? Only time would tell. I went home, climbed into bed, and logged about eight hours, enough to give me fuel for the next day. In the morning I went down to the Brownstone. The shoppers were already swarming through the place. I spotted a floorwalker and strolled over to him.

SOUND:

BUSY DEPARTMENT STORE BACKGROUND

CANDY:

Pardon me, sir, I-- (NO RESPONSE) I said, pardon me, sir.

LIGGETT:

(SNAPPISH) I'm very busy, young lady. Make it as brief as possible.

CANDY:

(TAKEN ABACK) You do work here, don't you?

LIGGETT:

Of course.

CANDY:

You are the floorwalker assigned to this section?

LIGGETT:

That is correct. Come to the point, please.

CANDY:

(OFFENDED) Of all the--! I have a good mind to report you.

LIGGETT:

As you wish. As I said, I'm very busy. Now, what is it you wanted to know?

CANDY:

The words are like gall in my mouth now, but where do I find Jack Frost?

LIGGETT:

Right over there in the back, two aisles over.

CANDY:

Thank you--

LIGGETT:

(MOVING OFF) Not at all.

CANDY:

--very much. (NARRATES) Of all the high-handed characters! People like that make me steam. I was getting up a full head of dander, but it simmered out before I had a chance to boil over, because as I rounded a corner I saw frosty boy -- or Rembrandt, if you choose -- up on his platform with the cutest little blonde kid sitting in his lap.

REMBRANDT:

Well, well, well! Look who we have here -- a great big boy. Hello, there, son.

TOPPER:

Hello, Jack Frost.

REMBRANDT:

What is your name?

TOPPER:

Topper!

REMBRANDT:

Topper! My, what a fine name. How old are you, Topper?

TOPPER:

Five and a half.

REMBRANDT:

Five and a half. Well, you must go to school, Topper. Which one?

TOPPER:

Garfield.

REMBRANDT:

Garfield. That's a good school. Now, tell me, er, what would you like to have me tell Santa Claus to bring you for Christmas, Topper?

TOPPER:

An electric train, and a baseball bat, and I'd like to be in the Seals for Lefty O'Doul.

REMBRANDT:

(LAUGHS) Well, I'll see what I can do to arrange that, Topper. I'll tell Santa Claus. Bye now.

TOPPER:

(MOVING OFF) Goodbye, and thank you, and merry Christmas!

CANDY:

(BEAT, TO REMBRANDT) I hope you can make the boy's wish come true. O'Doul could use him.

REMBRANDT:

(TENSE, LOW) Candy? Oh, I'm so glad you're here, dove. Duck around into the back room for a moment. I've got to talk to you.

CANDY:

Aren't you working, frosty boy?

REMBRANDT:

I've got ten minutes off every hour. I'll take the break now. Right around there, Candy.

CANDY:

Okay. I'll see you in a moment.

SOUND:

DEPARTMENT STORE BACKGROUND UP TO FILL A PAUSE ... THEN QUIETER IN BG

CANDY:

(CONCERNED) What's the matter, Rembrandt? Even under those icicles you look warm under the collar.

REMBRANDT:

Here. Look at this. Every now and then one of these moppets toddles up to me with a Christmas letter in its hand. A little redheaded girl handed me this about half an hour ago. I've been shaking ever since.

CANDY:

Let me see.

SOUND:

LETTER UNFOLDED

CANDY:

(READS) "Dear Jack Frost. A word to the wise is sufficient. When you take your lunch hour, keep on going. Don't come back. Otherwise you'll meet the same fate as your predecessor." (THOUGHTFUL) Hmm. Just about what I expected.

REMBRANDT:

Candy! You mean to say that you're deliberately using me as a sacrificial lamb?

CANDY:

By no means, ducky. Go ahead, take your lunch. Then do as the note says -- keep on going. As a matter of fact, why don't you take off now? I'll meet you at your place in about an hour.

REMBRANDT:

That's the best news I've heard since Nelson's victory at Trafalgar.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) I whipped upstairs, reported to Prentice Burke, got my first day's check, and on my way out, told his secretary she'd better get Burke some smelling salts. Then I went back down on the floor again. Sure enough, there was my boy, the floorwalker. I wanted to have a few more words with him.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

SOUND:

BUSY DEPARTMENT STORE BACKGROUND

LIGGETT:

(WITH DISDAIN) Oh, you again.

CANDY:

If you don't mind. I was just up to see Miss Myra Fisher. She wasn't in. Have you seen her down here?

LIGGETT:

(BRISK) No, and what's more, I won't see her all day. She phoned saying she was feeling ill. Most inconsiderate, I must say, during the holiday rush.

CANDY:

Yes, I must say. Er, could you give me her address? She's a friend of mine. I've got to see her.

LIGGETT:

Her address? Why, yes. I'll write it down here on one of my cards for you. (AS HE WRITES) Myra Fisher, Two-Two-Seven-F Union Street. (HANDS OVER CARD) There.

CANDY:

Thank you. (IRONIC) You're so kind.

LIGGETT:

(ALREADY MOVING OFF) Not at all.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) I had all the ammunition I wanted: a check signed by Burke and a card written by the floorwalker. His name was Simon Liggett. With that, I ducked into a phone booth and called Mallard.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

SOUND:

MALLARD'S VOICE ON FILTER

MALLARD:

Homicide. Mallard speaking.

CANDY:

Good boy. This is Candy. What did you find out at Lands End last night?

MALLARD:

Couple of very juicy footprints that give us nothing.

CANDY:

Did you make any casts of them?

MALLARD:

Why, sure.

CANDY:

Mind if I borrow a couple of them for a few hours, Mallard?

MALLARD:

Well, I don't see how it'll hurt. Sure, okay.

CANDY:

Thanks, Mallard dear. I'll be by in a moment, and, er-- I want to borrow you, too.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) I stopped by the Hall of Justice, got the casts of the footprints, shoved Mallard into the car, and then picked up Rembrandt. The thing was only a hunch, but my hunches have paid off, so I never ignore them. First, we went out to an address on Fifth Avenue near Clement. We got in the back door and went to work. Nothing made sense there, so we drove over to Recita Way in the marina. Again we got in and did some sleuthing. This time we hit the jackpot: a pair of shoes in the closet matched the casts we had brought with us.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

CANDY:

Rembrandt, go out in the kitchen and see if this place has any ketchup, huh?

REMBRANDT:

I'm not hungry, dove, but I'll look.

MALLARD:

What are you up to, Candy? We've got enough to swing a case here.

CANDY:

I'm working for a voluntary confession, Mallard. Tell me, what was the position that Jack Frost was in when you found him dead?

MALLARD:

In a chair, like that one, his head slumped down on his chest.

CANDY:

Good.

REMBRANDT:

(APPROACHES) Here's the catsup, dove. What are you putting it on?

CANDY:

You.

REMBRANDT:

What?

CANDY:

Without the bun or relish, ducky. Sit down there, will you, Rembrandt? (BEAT, EXHALES) Now, just go limp and let your head hang down. That's it. Now for a little seasoning.

REMBRANDT:

(WITH DISGUST, SQUIRMS) Oh, Candy, you're smearing me with this sticky stuff.

CANDY:

And all for the sake of art. Hold still. (BEAT) There. How does he look, Mallard?

MALLARD:

(QUIETLY ASTONISHED) Why, of all the--! Candy, it looks like the same guy; the real thing.

CANDY:

Good. Now, Rembrandt, you just sit like that. Don't move. Mallard, you duck into that closet over there and I'll hide in here. We've got a good view of the front door from both places. Okay?

MALLARD:

(ADMIRINGLY) Okay. There are times, Candy, when I admit I admire your genius.

CANDY:

Genius shmenius. Come on, let's hide.

MUSIC:

A MILDLY GRIM TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) The golden shafts of sun splashing in through the window from the ocean slowly turned pink, then purple, then into twilight. The minutes ticked on. Once-- (MUSIC: ABRUPTLY OUT)

REMBRANDT:

(SNEEZES, NOT TOO LOUD)

CANDY:

Bless you. But quiet, though, Rembrandt. You'll muss up your ketchup.

MUSIC:

RESUMES, THEN BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) Five minutes. Ten. Then we heard muffled footsteps coming down the hall and a key inserted in the lock of the apartment door.

SOUND:

KEY IN LOCK ... DOOR UNLOCKS AND OPENS ... LIGGETT'S STEPS IN ... DOOR CLOSES ... LIGGETT'S STEPS TO LIGHT SWITCH, WHICH CLICKS ... LIGGETT'S STEPS TO REMBRANDT, THEN STOP ABRUPTLY

LIGGETT:

(INTENSE WHISPER, HORRIFIED, TO HIMSELF) No! Oh, no! It - it can't be! The old fool I killed. No. No!

MALLARD:

Okay, buddy, that'll be about enough.

LIGGETT:

Oh, no--

CANDY:

Get him, Mallard! He's ducking!

MALLARD:

(WITH EFFORT) I'll get him!

LIGGETT:

(GRUNTS) Oh, no!

SOUND:

MALLARD TACKLES LIGGETT AND THEY GO DOWN, GLASS BREAKING, FURNITURE AND BODIES THUDDING TO FLOOR

CANDY:

Nice tackle, Mallard!

MALLARD:

All right, mac. You gonna remain peaceful, or do I have to give you a little tap?

LIGGETT:

(WHIMPERING QUIETLY, INCREASINGLY HYSTERICAL) No. No, I'll be quiet. You got me. I did it. I did it to the both of them. I killed them. I killed them. I killed both of them.

CANDY:

(MYSTIFIED) Both of them?

LIGGETT:

Yeah. Look behind the sofa. The sofa. The girl -- and that Jack Frost. The sofa. (CONTINUES BABBLING INDECIPHERABLY, IN BG)

CANDY:

The sofa? Wait a minute, Mallard! (BEAT, THEN A BIG HORRIFIED GASP, WITH QUIET DISMAY) Ohhhh. Oh, Mallard!

MALLARD:

More trouble, Candy?

CANDY:

(SADLY) Yes. An old friend of mine. The late Myra Fisher.

MUSIC:

FOR MYRA'S DEATH ... TRANSITION ... THEN OUT BEHIND CANDY--

CANDY:

(NARRATES) The whole thing was jealousy. Not the jealousy of a man for a woman, but the jealousy of a man for her job. Simon Liggett had been with the Brownstone for almost twenty years. He'd worked himself up from the stock boy to a place where he'd been promised the job of head of advertising and promotion. He almost got it. Except at the last moment Prentice Burke gave the position to Myra Fisher. That had only been two weeks before. He knew that Myra was on a probationary term, so he did everything he could to undermine her -- little things like changing ad copy, sending out false stories to newspapers. He figured that if he could keep the store without a Santa Claus helper, he'd break Myra's back and get the job by the first of the year. He paid a visit to the first Jack Frost and tried to bribe him into quitting, but the guy would have none of it. There was a struggle. Liggett lost his head and whipped out a gun and shot him. He was still in his costume, so Liggett stripped him, put some old clothes on him, drove out to Lands End and ditched his costume. Then he felt sure there would be no Jack Frost the next day, but that's when Myra met me and I talked Rembrandt into taking over. By this time Liggett was in a frenzy and would stop at nothing. He trailed Myra and Burke to Myra's home, killed her, took her body over to his place and ditched it behind the sofa.

MUSIC:

ACCENT FOR A TAG ... THEN OUT

CANDY:

(NARRATES) The next morning he wrote a note to Rembrandt and gave it to one of the little girls waiting in line to see him. Fear and envy were taking their toll on the poor guy's mind. I wanted to compare the handwriting, so I had Burke write me a check and Liggett write Myra's address on a card. Also, we had the footprint casts. Between the two, everything pointed toward Liggett. That's when I staged my little "parlor charade" with Rembrandt playing the part of a corpse. The sight -- with Rembrandt's resemblance to the dead Jack Frost -- would shatter anybody into a confession. (CHANGE OF TONE) But Christmas, in spite of everything, is a lovely time of year -- and there is a Santa Claus. Three of them for me, as a matter of fact: Mr. Prentice Burke who sent me a very nice check for my efforts; Rembrandt Watson who, out of sheer love for the job, went back to playing Jack Frost for all the kids at the Brownstone; and last but not least, Inspector Ray Mallard. (WARMLY) He gave me a Christmas sock -- right on my mouth, just where any well-placed Christmas sock should go.

MUSIC:

CURTAIN

ANNOUNCER:

Listen again next week at this same time. For excitement and adventure, just dial--

CANDY:

Candy Matson -- and a merry Christmas to you all -- YUkon 2-8209.

MUSIC:

THEME ("CANDY") ... THEN IN BG

ANNOUNCER:

Heard tonight were Helen Kleeb as Myra Fisher, Lou Tobin as Prentice Burke, and John Grover as Simon Liggett. Jack Thomas plays the role of Rembrandt Watson and Henry Leff is heard as Inspector Mallard. The program stars Natalie Masters as Candy and is written and produced by Monte Masters. Sound effects were created by Bill Brownell and Jay Rendon. Eloise Rowan is heard at the organ. The characters in tonight's story are entirely fictitious -- with the exception of the part of Topper, which was played by himself. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental. The program came to you from San Francisco. Dudley Manlove speaking.

MUSIC:

THEME UP AND OUT

ANNOUNCER:

You Are Tuned for the Stars on NBC.

MUSIC:

NBC CHIMES