The Adventures of Philip Marlowe: The Girl from Pitchfork Corners

Summary

The Adventures of Philip Marlowe: The Girl from Pitchfork Corners

Introduction

In this gripping episode of Choice Classic Radio Detectives, listeners are transported to the bustling streets of Los Angeles, where the iconic private detective Philip Marlowe takes center stage in "The Girl from Pitchfork Corners." Hosted by Choice Classic Radio and featuring Gerald Moore as Philip Marlowe, this episode masterfully weaves a tale of mystery, betrayal, and suspense characteristic of the Golden Age of Radio.

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Investigation Begins

Philip Marlowe is approached by Donna Rollins, a woman seeking his expertise to locate Arnold Latimer, a man allegedly heading to San Francisco. Marlowe's investigation starts with tracking Latimer's absence from his designated train seat and absence from the club car and diner. Suspicious of Donna's haste to terminate his services, Marlowe decides to dig deeper.

Notable Quote:

“He paid me by special delivery letter that afternoon.” – Philip Marlowe [03:30]

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Discovering the Murder

Marlowe's pursuit leads him to Donna Rollins' residence, where he discovers the lifeless body of a beautiful blonde woman, later identified as Beverly Cheskin, in the bedroom. The absence of identification heightens the mystery, compelling Marlowe to involve the police, only to find little assistance.

Notable Quote:

“A blonde. She was shot twice in the back.” – Philip Marlowe [06:10]

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Stakeouts and Leads

Undeterred, Marlowe visits the San Fernando Valley Fire Department to seek information about Engine Company 5, connecting it to a potential lead on Beverly Cheskin. His investigation leads him to the Old Mexico Club, where he encounters Herbert Ring, a smooth-talking bookmaker with dubious intentions. Ring's evasive behavior only deepens the intrigue, suggesting a larger conspiracy at play.

Notable Quote:

“He was supposed to. Yeah, it's a little late for tips, Herb.” – Philip Marlowe [15:14]

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Confrontation and Resolution

Marlowe's relentless pursuit takes him to Vista Point, a picturesque yet perilous location, where he confronts Doug Sattler and Beverly Cheskin. A tense standoff ensues, revealing the tangled web of deceit involving blackmail and betrayal. Herbert Ring's arrival culminates in a deadly confrontation, ensuring that Marlowe's quest for truth comes at a high cost. In the aftermath, Donna Rollins decides to stay in Los Angeles, hinting at unresolved emotions and future mysteries.

Notable Quotes:

“Donna did like that. I just can't get it through my head.” – Doug Sattler [24:06]
“He'll be up here eventually, but all he's going to find is a stupid kid from Pitchfork Corners.” – Philip Marlowe [25:05]

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Conclusion

"The Girl from Pitchfork Corners" exemplifies the quintessential Philip Marlowe narrative—complex characters, unexpected twists, and a relentless pursuit of truth against formidable odds. Choice Classic Radio delivers a compelling rendition, enriched by atmospheric soundscapes and stellar performances. For both long-time aficionados and new listeners, this episode offers a captivating glimpse into the noir detective genre, ensuring its place among old-time radio's finest detective stories.

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Notable Quotes Recap

1. Philip Marlowe [03:30]: “He paid me by special delivery letter that afternoon.”
2. Philip Marlowe [06:10]: “A blonde. She was shot twice in the back.”
3. Philip Marlowe [15:14]: “He was supposed to. Yeah, it's a little late for tips, Herb.”
4. Doug Sattler [24:06]: “Donna did like that. I just can't get it through my head.”
5. Philip Marlowe [25:05]: “He'll be up here eventually, but all he's going to find is a stupid kid from Pitchfork Corners.”

These quotes encapsulate the tension, mystery, and character dynamics that drive the story forward, providing listeners with memorable lines that resonate long after the episode concludes.

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Final Thoughts

The Adventures of Philip Marlowe: The Girl from Pitchfork Corners is a testament to the enduring allure of old-time radio detective stories. With its intricate plot, well-developed characters, and immersive storytelling, this episode stands out as a must-listen for fans and newcomers alike. As Philip Marlowe navigates the treacherous waters of Los Angeles' underbelly, listeners are treated to a masterclass in suspense and narrative excellence.

Transcript

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[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Bring to you the greatest old time radio shows like us on Facebook. Subscribe to us on YouTube and thank you for donating at choice classicradio.com get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road. And those who travel it wind up in the gut of the prison of the grave. There's no other end, but they never learn.

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[Philip Marlowe]

Sure, I'm sure.

[Arnold Latimer]

What I'm saying. What I'm saying. Do I look like I'm wearing blinkers? Now for the third and last time so I can go back to marking his form. Nobody's been in that seat, mister, since we left la.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Nobody. Nobody.

[Arnold Latimer]

You sure you got the right stall?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah, yeah. Car J Low at 12. You're Jay Upper 12. Right, right, right, right. Like rain.

[Arnold Latimer]

Like rain. Well, let's lightly.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Hello, friend. Friend. Let's go around again, huh? His name is Latimer. Arnold Latimer. I don't know what he looks like, but he's supposed to be heading for San Francisco. Now, maybe you heard somebody call him, page him something. Nobody called.

[Arnold Latimer]

No one except that pool Q conductor with the brass buttons in the sandpaper voice. You checked him. You checked him.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah, Twice. Twice. Now look lower 12 is vacant as far as he's concerned. Right. And no Arnold Lattimore in the club car. The diner either.

[Arnold Latimer]

Hey, now, wait a minute. Have you tried the washroom?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah, same story.

[Arnold Latimer]

Ah, well, looks like your entry was scratched Hair scratched.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Also looks like Glendale is where I get off. So long, pal. Good luck with the ponies.

[Arnold Latimer]

Hey, now, hold it, hold it. Don't tell me that Latimer bird is the only reason you're on this train.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

The one and only. Look, if you run across a pony called not on Hand, play it heavy, huh?

[Arnold Latimer]

Yeah, sure, but not to show.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Not the show. Not the show. Good night, friend. I waited on the platform at Glendale until the chrome streamliner had glided out with car J, lower 12 still empty. Then I got a cab back to Union station in LA, picked up my own car and headed for 1312 N Bronson Dr. In Hollywood. And a woman I'd never seen named Donna Rollins. She had hired me by special delivery letter that afternoon. Crisp $50 bill and clothes therein to be sure that one Arnold Latimer was going where he'd said he was going. That had been my job. Well, the place on Bronson was the kind of imitation Mount Vernon architecture where Washington couldn't have slept a wink. The lady that answered the door was about as colonial as bebop, yet she was a full lap behind the other extreme known as glamorous Hollywood type. Just a nice looking anybody with freckles, brown hair and a soft bun and dressed in a white blouse that didn't plunge an inch.

[Donna Rollins]

Yes, what is it?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Oh, I'm Philip Marlow, Ms. Rollins. I'm afraid you're entitled to some change. May I come in?

[Donna Rollins]

Change? What do you mean, change?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Your $50? It's a lot of money for a one line report on a little man who wasn't there. Ms. Rollins, did you hear me?

[Donna Rollins]

Yes, yes. Mr. Marlow, I don't like to seem abrupt, but I'm very busy. Excuse me, please.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

You seem to have lost interest in Mr. Latimer in a hurry. You know, when you sent me the letter this afternoon.

[Donna Rollins]

Oh, please, Mr. Marlow, there isn't time for talk. I've already told you I'm very busy. Good night.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Okay, baby. Good night. It is. I backed my nose off the front door knocker, chalked Donna Rollins off as another woman who had changed a jittery mind and walked a dozen yards back to where I'd parked my car. The crisp $50 bill was still burning a hole in my pocket when I was in behind the wheel. I was still worried about taking so much for so little until I flicked my headlights on and the slash of white picked up something I hadn't expected. Donna Rollins, a coat thrown over her arm, her face stamped with fear, was running away from the house like it was going to blow up. Headed for a taxicab park close to a corner. I started my car to follow her, but I never made it because a hot rod decided all at once to park in front of me. Are you big jerk? The adolescent climbed over his door and came toward me. He was strictly brash high school sophomore with dialogue to match. Of course, the cab was gone. Well, Pappy, nice going. Your bumpers pleated my twin pipes. Well, what do you calculate doing about it? If you were five years older and five inches taller, I'd pleat you, Pappy. Now come here. Oh. Hey, let me go. Not until I speak my peace. You sonny, you gonna get those two cars apart in less than two minutes because they don't calculate on being gone any longer. Is that crystal clear? Yeah, yeah, sure, mister, sure. I'll fix it up double quick. You'll see. I practically got it done now. Okay, I don't know. We'll talk about it again in two minutes. I had no idea where Nana Rollins had been running to or from. But the fact that she was gone while her front door was still open made her house the first place to check. I found the living room nothing more or less than I'd seen at my first peek. Plush, but the bedroom beyond was the same. White satin drapes spilling onto a wall to wall jet black hook rug. And on the far side of the room, sprawled over an also white ottoman, a very beautiful blonde girl, very dead. She'd been shot twice in the back sometime in the last hour. And there was no identification in any of the pockets of the expensively tailored gabardine suit that she wore in a handbag. The story was the same. Yeah, it looked like Donna had had good reason to run, but that I had a better one for calling the police or taking her messages. Hello? I want to talk to Donna. She isn't in message. Yeah, he has a message. I want you to find her and get it this to me, please. Hey, I can't hear you. Are you still there? Yeah, now hold on. His phone booth leaked. Okay. Who are you? Friend of Donna's. You said you had a message. Yeah, so I did. But. But I think you're awful anxious fella. Too anxious. Oh, now wait a minute. Don't get touchy. I'm a friend. All right, skip it. Friend. Not a chance. Junior Nevins. 1, 2, 1, 2. We may get together yet.

[Beverly Cheskin]

Los Angeles City Building.

[Arnold Latimer]

Fire Department.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Battalion Chief Kegler, please. One moment, sir. All right. Battalion Chief Phil Marlow King. Oh, hi, Phil. Look, can you get me some dope in a big hurry? It's important. Oh, sure, Phil. Name it. What? Firehouse went out on a call less than a minute ago. Can you look it up? Well, I don't have to. It's here on the board in front of me. Engine Company 5, Phil. San Fernando Valley. But it's only a small brush. I don't care about that keg. Where Does Engine Company 5 live? Where in the valley? Can you give me that? Well, I think so, Phil, seeing it was me own outfit for 14 years. The Corner of Ventura Boulevard and Whitset. But Phil, what do you want to know? Call you later, Chief. We'll talk it over then, huh? Thanks. Goodbye. I was playing a long shot, but any kind of a lead on a deep freeze voice who had a message for a girl who left her corpse in her bedroom was worth checking. So for the time being I skipped calling the police and left the place lights out, door closed but not locked. Then I found my car where the hot rod pilot had left it. Started for the San Fernando Valley in the firehouse. Called five, 20 minutes later when I was there and out of my car, I came face to face with my second break. The only pay phone within a half block of the engine company was at an all night open air hot dog stand. And he attended on hand a girl with a kind of arched eyebrows that left her looking constantly surprised. Had an A1 memory.

[Beverly Cheskin]

I most certainly do remember the party you're talking of, Mr. Most certainly. And for two especially good reasons.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Like what, honey?

[Beverly Cheskin]

Like top and bottom hair and shoes are referred to. The former red like this ketchup here, and the latter suede and yellow, no less. And he was the.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah.

[Beverly Cheskin]

Excuse me one. Let's say, Chris.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Hot dog, Bessie, you cricket with your own dainty finger.

[Beverly Cheskin]

Yeah, with my own dainty fingers. Really, Chris, you say the same thing every night. It gets to be very.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Bessie, Bessie. Pardon me, dear, but this counts. Do you know who this redhead in yellow suede shoes is? His name?

[Beverly Cheskin]

Oh, no, I never saw him before.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Oh, fine. Well, thanks, baby.

[Beverly Cheskin]

Oh, don't mention it. By the by, I do know where he went, if that means anything.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Baby, it means a lot. Where? Tell me.

[Beverly Cheskin]

With the old Mexico Club here in Studio City. He works there or something. Anyhow I know he made a call to Herbert Ring, the gambling big shot. And call him boss. And Ring runs that.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Thanks, sweetheart. Here's 10 for your trouble. Buy Chris. And you old hat. Thanks. Goodbye. The old Mexico Club was phony south of the border. From authentic Latin American rumba team I'd seen billed as Mr. And Mrs. Buck and Wing a month ago at the Policeman's Ball to a life size painting of a bullfighter who had his cape thrown over the wrong shoulder. Was thrown strictly second rate all the way down and back up the line to the proprietor himself, Herbert Rigg, an almost smooth, almost big bookmaker whom I knew slightly. I found him at a corner table huddled over a glass of milk, listening hard to none other than the redhead with the gaily colored feet. When I stepped up to them, the conversation broke off sharply. Well, well, well. Hi, Phil. What's new, boy? Oh, nothing much, Herb. Outside of a job I just landed. A girl named Donna Rollins.

[Wrigley's Spearmint Gum Announcer]

Donna Rollins.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Quiet, Larry. Excuse us. Won't you sit down first? Sit down, Mr. Marlow. Larry, how are you? I'll be at the bar, boss. He's not so friendly, Phil. The evasive type, if you know what I mean. Yeah, evasive like Arnold Latimer, maybe. Arnold Lat? Who's that? Philosopher. Now, listen, Herb, I'm trying it straight. Donna Rollins and you? What's the tie? I forget your Engel right now. Curiosity in a corpse, no more. Oh, somebody's dead, huh? Where? I forget. Round two, Herbie. Yeah, okay. Phil, you got as much good sense as you have nerve. Thanks. I'll try it straight for a while. A certain party has me over the barrel. Tonight's the payoff. I plan on making it. That's all blackmail. And you're almost happy about it. Oh, now look, Herb. You don't expect me. You're thinking like an honest man. Now turn it over, huh? I'm stuck. So I pay once blackmail's your name for it. We call it smart money. And smart money is what we deal in. You follow? Almost. But this certain party, is it Donna Rollins? Marlow, after what I said about your good sense. Oh, yeah. How straight can you get, huh? Leave it alone, Phil. Good night, boy. I watched him go as far as the bar and past Larry, who quietly fell and stepped behind without so much as the command heel. And when they both disappeared into a door marked Private, I decided I'd had enough for old Mexico. I got out to my car and pointed it back for Donna Rollins place. For the only reason left. I didn't Know where else to go. Half hour later, when I was there, I was glad it had played that way, because number 1312 North Bronson was not dark as I'd left it, but lights on, front door wide open. Radio going in for a topper. A gentleman of maybe 35 in tweeds, in a sunburn, mixing himself a drink. The evening paper open on a nearby coffee table.

[Philip Marlowe]

What?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Good evening.

[Philip Marlowe]

Oh, you startle me. You a friend of Donna's?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah, yeah. She in?

[Philip Marlowe]

No, she say, who are you? You barge in here, close the door, make yourself happy.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

I told you, I'm a friend of Donna's. Oh, that's odd.

[Philip Marlowe]

So am I. A study boyfriend? Shall we try again?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

All right. The name's Marlo. I'm a private detective working for Donna.

[Philip Marlowe]

Donna hired a private detective?

[Wrigley's Spearmint Gum Announcer]

Why?

[Philip Marlowe]

What's wrong?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Take it easy, Mr. Sattler.

[Philip Marlowe]

Doug Sattler, please. Now, Mr. Marlow, come to the point. I had a date. Donna?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah. Well, from the way she left here, I don't think she's going to keep it.

[Philip Marlowe]

Why not?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Why shouldn't she? Well, for one thing, if you don't know already, there's a body in the bedroom there.

[Philip Marlowe]

But somebody's dead in there.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah, very dead. Let's have a look, huh? Maybe somebody you can identify. It's a woman, Mr. Sadler. A blonde. She was shot. Well, who is it? Saddler. Friend of Donna's.

[Philip Marlowe]

Oh.

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[Philip Marlowe]

It's Donna.

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[Choice Classic Radio Host]

The thing in the bedroom was no prettier than it had been when I first found it. Only now it had a name. Donna Rollins, my client. And as Doug Sattler stared at it and repeated the name, his long hands began to twist each other and its forehead got sticky. I finally took him by the shoulder and turned him around, away from it. His glistening gray eyes avoided me and instead dotted at the corners of the room frantically, like a pair of scared mice looking for a place to hide.

[Philip Marlowe]

Donna did like that. I. I just can't get it through my head.

[Wrigley's Spearmint Gum Announcer]

Why? Why?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Let's try the easy ones first. Like who? Huh?

[Philip Marlowe]

You mean you know who did this?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

It's not exactly the handcuff stage saddler, but I got a prospect. Come on, let's go in the other room. You can probably use a brace.

[Philip Marlowe]

Yeah, thanks. I need a drink.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah, I think it's a girl. A cute one with dark eyes and a double row of freckles across her nose.

[Philip Marlowe]

Freckles?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah. Also, she has brown hair and a bun and a mouth that probably liked to smile once. I wasn't doing much of that when I reported to her tonight.

[Philip Marlowe]

You reported to her? Now, wait a minute. That's impossible, Marlow.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Why, she was right here in the apartment. Furthermore, she said she was Donna Rollins.

[Philip Marlowe]

I can't understand this anyhow.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Hey, wait a minute. Take it easy with that stuff. I said a brace, not a bottle.

[Philip Marlowe]

I need it. See, I know the girl you've just described.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Hmm.

[Philip Marlowe]

Her name's Beverly Cheskin.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Cheskin. And her reason for killing if she didn't?

[Philip Marlowe]

Jealousy, maybe.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

You better draw me a picture.

[Philip Marlowe]

She's a crazy, unreasonable kid from the sticks, Marlow. For Pitchfork Corners, Kansas.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

From where?

[Philip Marlowe]

That's right. Pitchfork Corners. The rest of it's just as fantastic.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Well, what's the rest of the story?

[Philip Marlowe]

Last summer my car broke down. I was stuck there for a week. She worked in the only drugstore in town. I was just about the first guy she'd ever seen in something beside a straw hat and overalls. She fell for me and, well, I kind of let her on. You know how a fellow will.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

I should. I've been hearing the same story since I was in the third grade.

[Philip Marlowe]

It's the truth.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Oh, sure, sure. Rest of it, no doubt goes right down the same cobbler from sweet nothings to love letters sealed with a kiss. You finally got around to breaking it to her gently about Donna. She wouldn't believe you. And before you knew it, she dropped everything. Came to the big city, huh?

[Philip Marlowe]

Yeah, two days ago.

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[Philip Marlowe]

Yeah, you make it all sound pretty silly.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

It's no sillier to me than that corpse in there.

[Philip Marlowe]

Okay. It's hard to believe she'd actually commit a murder, Marlowe. She does have a temper.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

And she's just pulled her life out by the roots. And you know what? They grow deep in places like Pitchfork Corner City Boy. Didn't you care?

[Philip Marlowe]

Of course I did.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Crazy little fool.

[Philip Marlowe]

I tried to reason with her in my letter.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Never mind, never mind. Let's get on to the sophisticated about Donna and one Mr. Latimer, for instance.

[Philip Marlowe]

Latimer? Who's that?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Oh, how about Donna and Herbert Ring?

[Philip Marlowe]

I don't know any Herbert Ring either. But Donna had a lot of business friends I didn't bother with. Why?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Well, you should have doing business with Herb Ring means.

[Philip Marlowe]

Means what?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

That you have to be fast on your feet.

[Philip Marlowe]

What's that? What'd you pick up off the floor, Marlowe?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

An old envelope. I must take a look for neatness. Where's Beverly staying, Saddler?

[Philip Marlowe]

I don't know. She called me once, but she wouldn't tell me. I haven't seen her.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Where'd she reach you?

[Philip Marlowe]

My hotel, the Greenwood Arms. Warlo, what are we gonna do about Beverly, Emmy?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Right now, I'm gonna try to find her. If you can stand it, Saddler, stay here and stay sober. The crumpled envelope I'd found that didn't belong on Donna's floor had come from the Sunflower Motor Court. Qualified as elite only because the name might appeal to a sentimental Kansan a long way from home. Well, it took the night man at the place five fumbling minutes to discover that Beverly Cheskin actually was registered. Five more to remember that. She got a call just before I showed up. Had left in a big hurry and had crossed the street towards Sam's, which was a U Drive car lot. Dunn's hired Green. So was Sam.

[Arnold Latimer]

Sorry, Sonny, but you're out of luck. Ain't a buggy left on the lot. Him too, out there laid up.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

I don't want a car, Sam. I got my own across the street. I'm looking for a girl.

[Arnold Latimer]

What you doing it in here for?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Because her name is Beverly Cheskin.

[Arnold Latimer]

Beverly? Say, now, ain't this a coincidence?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Is it?

[Arnold Latimer]

Pretty little thing by that name of Dresseen, Freckles and all. Don't see Freckles out here much. Made me kind of Homesick?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Yeah, I bet. Did she rent a car from you?

[Arnold Latimer]

Oh, sure did. Brand new Nash. Last one.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Oh, dear.

[Arnold Latimer]

Near didn't give it to her. She's mighty keyed up, you see. Figured the LA traffic he'd put the wild on her till I found out was love.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Love? What do you mean?

[Arnold Latimer]

Why, she asked me what was the shortest way up to Vista Point. Won't you get it, son?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

I'll be very honest. Not yet. No.

[Arnold Latimer]

Well, Vista's Mexican for view, senor. Points just a hootin holly east of the observatory. See? A whole durn valley in all of L. A up there.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

That's where she's headed, huh? You sure?

[Arnold Latimer]

Well, I reckon. Most romantical spot around. Dangerous road, though. More ways than one. But you ain't kidding me. But you know all about it.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Well, not all, but I'm willing to find out. Thanks, Sammy.

[Arnold Latimer]

That's all right. Don't break your neck across the street, son, as you wait.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Leave that heap right where it's set. Shamus won't be needing it. I won't take your word for it, Larry. You'd better. Mr. Ring wants you and me to have a nice talk. Tell him we have nothing in common. He knows different. The name Arnold Latimer, for instance. Sorry. Some other time. I got a date. Said we're going to talk. Mr. Cool Cucumber. They have to warm you up to it. The hardwood. It's okay with me. You know, Larry, there's something wrong with a guy who'll wear yellow suede shoes like those. He must be slow. And his reflexes. Imagine. I'll be seeing you. As I headed for Vista Point, two ugly facts stood out clearly. First, the only person Beverly Cheskin would rush off to Vista Point Four was Doug Satley. Second, he had to be a liar because he called her just as soon as my back was turned. And they both added up to the same thing. Another corpse. The road up from the valley floor was a narrow strip of crumbling concrete as full of twists as a hurt worm. But near the top, it left in a series of ragged terraces, grossly overrated as a lover's rendezvous. I pulled off the road, hid my car near a scrub oak and went the rest of the way up on foot. A cold wind lashed at the manzanita as I worked my way up to the crest. The half moon played unpredictable tag with low clogs, so I followed the shadow of the stone wall out onto the jutting point where the mountain fell away on three sides into a black gorge. Finally, I Spotted the Doug Sattler and the freckled kid from Pitchfork Corners standing close together at the edge of oblivion.

[Donna Rollins]

I was in love with you, Doug. I still am. Doesn't my being here prove that? When you called me at the motel, I came up here as fast as I could, even though I knew what you'd done. Oh, Doug, why did you have to kill her? Why?

[Philip Marlowe]

Because she double crossed me on a business deal. A blackmail deal, Beverly.

[Beverly Cheskin]

Blackmail?

[Philip Marlowe]

That's right. Donna knew plenty about certain men in this town. Big timers who'd pay thousands or kill to keep others from finding out about Hot.

[Donna Rollins]

Doug, how could you?

[Philip Marlowe]

Well, it was risky. I had to pose as somebody who didn't exist or Mr. Arnold Latimer and pretend that he was the one who had all the information. I demanded 50 grand from a guy named Rain and said Don up as the go between. Then as Latimer, I was supposed to go to San Francisco on the train and wait for Donna to come with the money. But I'd have waited the rest of my life. She intended to keep it all for herself.

[Donna Rollins]

But you killed her, Doug. Was it that important to you?

[Philip Marlowe]

You still don't get it, do you?

[Donna Rollins]

I know now that there's no chance for us, for you and me. No chance at all. Ever.

[Philip Marlowe]

I'm going through with the deal alone, Beverly. I'm going to get that money, but I've got to do something else first.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

I'd heard enough.

[Philip Marlowe]

You don't really think.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

I reached for my.38 and edged along the wall, saw them to where I knew I couldn't miss.

[Philip Marlowe]

I made a mistake, Beverly. I dropped an envelope in Donna's place and Marlow found it. He knows I lied, but I can still say I did it to protect you.

[Donna Rollins]

Protect me? What do you mean?

[Philip Marlowe]

He'll be up here eventually, but all he's going to find is a stupid kid from Pitchfork Corners who murdered a rival in a bit of jealousy and then couldn't face it.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

I was counting on the wind to cover any noise, and it did. That's why I was caught flat footed. When the shot came. Satler lurched up on his toes and doubled over, clawing at his stomach. I crouched down as Herbert Ring stepped out of the brush across the clearing, a thin barrel gun in his hand. Don't move, sister. Saddler fallen, face down on the ground. I started moving again. His ring rolled him over with his foot. He was dead. That's the only payoff Mr. Arnold Latimer gets for me. It's too bad you had to Be here to see it made, sister, because I can't afford a witness. I'm sorry, I really am. But it's no worse than he was gonna do to you. Ring. Duck. Beverly, he did it. Let that gun lay. Ring. Don't reach for it. Just relax, Larry. That louse. He was supposed to. Yeah, it's a little late for tips, Herb. You should have hired a better class of help. Go fry your head. Nobody's perfect. Even you. Yeah, where'd I slip? Too much volume when I talk to Sam. Yeah, that's right, Bob Mouse. I tagged you there and listened. So you knew where to come and you heard the rest of it up here just like I did. Can you take it, Herb? It's not gonna be easy getting it down this hill to a dock. Are you kidding, Shamus? I ain't moving any place. If you know any pretty words, go say em to the lady. She's the one who needs a. They'll go over. Piggin, bitch, fuck. I couldn't think of any pretty words. Not then, anyway. I let her figure it all out for herself. And she was still at it when we got to police headquarters where we told the whole story to homicide from start to finish. And finally one of coroner's crew went up to Vista Point to take Satlin Ring to the morgue. And a gaunt police secretary with calluses on her mind hammered out the reports. I went over to Beverly, the little country girl who was looking through a dingy window at the dingy backyard of a city.

[Donna Rollins]

Are they going to ask any more questions, Mr. Marlow?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

No new ones. They've got it all. They just like to repeat to be sure it comes out the same each time. You can't blame them, you know. Well, they're not going to hold you. You can leave tomorrow and go home.

[Donna Rollins]

Yes, I know, but I. I'm not going back. I'm going to stay here in Los Angeles.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Be sure, baby. It's a big place. Lots of people. Awful lot of people.

[Donna Rollins]

Not if you think about them one at a time.

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Say, Marvel, you can go now if you want, but we'd like to talk to you again. Ms. Chesson. Will you come in, please?

[Donna Rollins]

Oh, yes, sir. Well, good night. Phil. Can I call you one of these days?

[Choice Classic Radio Host]

You better. Starting tomorrow. She smiled and the freckles on her nose all ran together. Yeah, it was a lovely sight, that nose. I watched her walk into the lieutenant's office. And then I went out, got in my car and headed home. And as I drove, I thought about hep cats Hicks and Haysey. But as she suggested, one at a time. You know what? It worked that way. There's no difference. They're all people. Yeah, I had a hunch I was going to be planning on that phone call tomorrow.

[Wrigley's Spearmint Gum Announcer]

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[Choice Classic Radio Host]

Time I spent the night in an ancient Spanish castle with an overworked count guarding a tomb, a caretaker with blood on his mind, and a seven footer called Peter the Cruel, which was one thing, the other was worse. They all lived in the 16th century.

[Wrigley's Spearmint Gum Announcer]

Bob Stevenson speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting.