The Killer That Stalked New York

New York. The biggest town

in the whole wide world.

And because I love it. I think it's the best.

It's safe and secure,

like the granite it's built on.

How do I know? I live in it. I know it.

Better than that. I know the muscles of it.

I watched it fight for its life.

That's what this story is all about.

When we almost had a city

without any of those people.

When a killer stalked them in the street.

It began on a November day in 1947.

Death didn't sneak into town

riding the rods or huddled in a boxcar.

It came in on a streamliner,

first class, extra fare,

right into the Pennsylvania Station,

big as life.

And when it finally stepped out

of its drawing room and onto the platform,

it was something to whistle at.

It wore lipstick. nylons

and a beautifully tailored coat

that sported a silver dancing girl.

Souvenir of Cuba.

Its name was Sheila Bennet.

A pretty face with a frame to match,

worth following.

And followed she was by a big-faced man

from the U.S. Customs Service.

A T-man on the make.

Not for the girl. but for what she had done.

She knew he was there.

And it made her nervous.

Real nervous.

Odd part about the whole thing is

the customs cop thought he wasjust

trailing a candidate for a federal pen.

Never suspected

the blonde target was a killer.

Oh, no. She didn't deal death out of

the end of a gun or off the point of a knife.

She delivered it wholesale.

Just by walking through a crowd. climbing

some stairs, pushing through a turnstile.

Standing in the station.

Better than wholesale.

For free. No charge.

The tragedy was she didn't know

she was death either.

This is what made thejigsaw puzzle

so tough to put together.

If the T-man had known

and if Sheila had known,

my hometown wouldn't have been

punched to its knees a short time later.

All Sheila knew. she had a headache.

- Aspirin, please.

- Sorry, we haven't any.

A headache, butterflies about

the T-man who was following her,

and a terrible hunger to get to her husband.

I guess when a woman loves a man,

a headache is a simple thing.

Shaking a bloodhound off

a red-hot trail is worth the risk

if it means getting rid of that pain

that comes with empty arms.

So little a thing as

the sound of a lover's voice

can give a woman a lot ofstrength.

To get it. Sheila dropped a nickel in the slot.

Hello. Sheila, where are you?

Penn Station. I just got in.

I missed you, Matt, terribly.

No more than I've missed you.

Is everything all right?

I'm being followed. Positive.

Have you got them with you?

No, I mailed them along the way.

I wasn't taking any chances.

Smart girl. All right, then, listen carefully.

Check into the America Hotel and...

Don't ask me to do that, Matt.

I can't stay away any longer.

It's all I've been thinking about.

All the way from Cuba, just seeing you.

You want to queer everything?

All right then, do as I tell you

and stay away for a couple of days.

Maybe a federal cop was waiting for you

to lead him here.

That's a good girl.

I'll call Francie at her office

and tell her you're back. Bye, baby.

Francie, your sister's back.

I'm frightened, Matt.

There's nothing to worry about

as long as you do as I tell you.

Oh, Matt.

Just let me handle this.

- Porter, ma'am?

- Yes, please.

America Hotel, please.

Anything wrong, miss?

Is the hotel doctor around?

He's gone, past office hours.

Dr. Findley takes his calls.

I can get him over.

Please.

Ten dollars if he comes over here.

Five if you go there.

He's just up the street.

How would you like to make that extra five?

Brains, they call me. Brainy Danny.

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