← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 628 - Detectives for Dad’s Day (Ellery Queen, Let George Do It, The Big Guy, & Philip Marlowe)
02:07:33
Happy Father’s Day! We’re celebrating dear old Dad with a collection of radio mysteries featuring fathers. First, Ellery Queen and his police inspector father collaborate on a case of smuggling and murder. Larry Dobkin is Ellery in “Number...
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Ellery Queen
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. The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The Adventures of Sam Spade Detective the Adventures of the Saint, starring Vincent Price. Bob Bailey in the exciting adventures of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Hello and welcome to down these Mean Streets with more old time radio detectives and crime solvers. To celebrate, I've lined up a quartet of radio mysteries where fatherhood plays a key role in the stories, including an adventure of radio's lone single father sleuth. First up is an adventure of Ellery Queen, whose murder case intersects with the smuggling matter investigated by his father, Inspector Queen of the New York Police Department. Father and son join forces in 31. Originally aired on NBC on September 7, 1947. Larry Dobkin, who we hear around these parts quite often as Louis the cab driver on the Saint, plays Ellery Queen. Next, George Valentine is hired by a young man to clear his father of murder. But to George's surprise, the convicted dad doesn't want any help at all. Bob Bailey stars in the Father who Had Nothing to say from Let George Do It. This one originally aired on Mutual on September 13, 1948. Then we'll meet Joshua Sharp, the private eye and widower, raising two small children. To them, he's known as the biggest Big Guy. And he's played by Henry Calvin, who may be best known for his role as the bumbling Sergeant Garcia on the Disney Zorro TV show. We'll hear him in the Unheard Voice, the first episode of his series, and it originally aired on NBC on May 7, 1950. For his first adventure on radio, the Big guy tries to prove that the friendly old carousel operator in the park and isn't guilty of a $50,000 theft. And finally, Gerald Moore is Philip Marlowe. And yes, we just heard him last week. But I don't think you can ever have too much Marlo. We'll hear the Last Wish originally aired on CBS on July 19, 1950. An old man is on his deathbed and all he wants is to make peace with his son. But first, someone has to find the son, and that job of racing against the clock falls to Marlo. It's our dad Detective showcase, and it kicks off with Ellery Queen right after these messages. Miracle Whip has a flavor so pleasing Miracle Whip tastes so lively, so teasing Miracle Whip only one of its kind, Miracle Whip best salad dressing you'll find. Miracle Whip is the only one of its kind because it's a different type of salad dressing. Made from a secret craft recipe, Miracle Whip combines the best qualities of old fashioned boiled dressing and fine mayonnaise. So it's truly distinctive and delicious with a flavor millions of folks call just exactly right. Try it, won't you? One taste will tell you why it's America's favorite salad dressing. The one and only Miracle Whip. And if you don't mind, I'd like to suggest something that you might share with your friends. And that something is a glass of sherry before dinner. Naturally, a glass of Petri California sherry. I say Petri Sherry because it's the perfect before dinner wine. You couldn't think of a better way to begin a meal. That Petri Sherry has a beautiful inviting color like, like dark amber. And for flavor, well, you've heard sherry described many times as having a rich nut like flavor. But if you want to learn for the first time what those words rich and nut like really mean, you just taste Petri Sherry. It's wonderful. Serve Petri Sherry by itself or serve it with hors d' oeuvres or those little cocktail sandwiches. And incidentally, if you prefer sherry dry, you know, not sweet, just ask your wine merchant for Petri pale dry Sherry. Well, the important thing to remember is if you want sherry, you want Petri Sherry because that means good sherry. Good evening. This is your Rexall family druggist with a welcome from the 10,000 independent druggists who have made the word Rexall part of our own store names. We've done that because we recommend and sell the 2,000 or more drug products made by the Rexall Drug Company. Like Rexall Milk of Magnesia, for example. Here's the milk of Magnesia that's so pure and creamy smooth, so free from that unpleasant earthy taste. Even children spot the difference. Ask for the Rexall Milk of Magnesia at Rexall drugstores everywhere. And remember, you can depend on any drug product that bears the name Rexall. I dedicate this program to the fight against crime. Not merely crimes of violence and crimes of dishonesty, but but crimes of intolerance, discrimination and bad citizenship, crimes against America. If you're suffering from painful corns, listen. One cool drop of Free Zone Liquid Corn Remover instantly cools, soothes burning painful corns instantly goes to work to relieve tormenting pain. Equally amazing when used as directed, Free Zone helps remove corns. Get Free Zone Liquid Corn Remover there's no fuss, no bulky, messy pads. One cool drop of Free Zone instantly cools, soothes, burning, painful corns. Ellery Queen. In the interest of a safer American home, a happier American community, a more United States, the makers of Anderson bring you Ellery Queen. I dedicate this program to the fight against crime, not merely crimes of violence and crimes of dishonesty, but. But crimes of intolerance, discrimination and bad citizenship. Crimes against America. For the fast, prolonged relief of headache, pain brings you another case in the career of Ellery Queen, celebrated fighter of crime. Anderson's guest, armchair detective who's in the studio to solve the mystery before Ellery reveals the solution as Mr. Kent Smith. And now Ellery Queen tells the story of a mysterious international figure suspected of diamond smuggling. Number 31. Just a minute, Charlie. Inspector. Right. Who is Billy? A radio phone. Charlie says some guy's calling the police department from the steamship A G at sea. So I'm elected, huh? Inspector Queen speaking. You kept me waiting. I kept. Who is this? George arcaris. Oh, yes, Mr. Arkaris. Well, what can I do for you? You and your police and your customs officials can let me alone. That's what you can do for me, Inspector, whoever you are. Now, I don't get you, Mr. Arkaris. If you're on shipboard in mid Atlantic, you. You can let me alone when the ship docks in New York. Oh, you expecting trouble with the customs, Mr. Ikaris? Very humorous. Three times now I've been searching your customs like a common criminal. If it occurs this time, I shall make the most vigorous representations to my government. Do you understand me, Inspector? What is your name? I understand you. He's going to make trouble, Inspector, huh? That's what he says. Vili. Is this a private fight, dad, or can anyone get in on it? Oh, that was a bird named George Akarisalry. He's from the Near East. Yeah, and he has plenty of connections, our Caris, of course. What's your interest in him? Well, son, about a year ago, we got a tip he was smuggling diamonds in. We passed the tip to customs, they gave him the business. But no diamonds, I take it? No diamonds. Still, after our Carras sailed back to his homeland, some stuff turned up around New York that seemed to jibe with our tips. The same thing happened on his next two trips, Maestro. Now he calls from Mid Ocean to say that if he's bothered again, he'll make a diplomatic issue of it. Well, if he's innocent, you can't blame him. Listen, Ms. Porter, this Arkarras is an International mystery man. And he's suspected of everything from espionage to murder, but never any proof. It certainly doesn't keep him out of cafe society. He's always being wined and dined by people like Pip Istrom and Sue Mounting and that crowd. Oh, who's been passing these tips along, dad? Oh, they've been coming in by way of the underground villa. Get me ZK at customs. Yes, sir, right away. Plus it's occurred to you, dad, that our Karis may be smuggling the diamonds in through a confederate. Sure, it's occurred to us, but what can you do? It's one of those things. Yeah, Just a minute, please. Simple enough. Here's ZK Inspector Zach. Anything come in on George Arkaris? Yes, yes, I know. Well, I just got a notion about that. I'll call you right back. There's been another tip. Now, listen, Ellrie, we must make sure that our carris isn't slipping the ice to a co worker to carry off. Now, would you make sure for us? It's a delicate situation, maestro. If you tell us he hasn't passed anything to a pal, we'll search our garrison. Customs. Ellery. I'd have to board the edge here quite a bit before she docks, dad. That'll be a cinch. Now, I can arrange it with the port and customs people. All right. Now, look here. You go out Sunday with the pilot and mingled with the passengers. I don't see Ellery getting off, Inspector. Yeah, neither do I. Oh, wait a minute. There he is now. Villie, be ready to take our carriage over from Ellery. All right, get going. So that's Mr. Arkaris. Let's get closer, Nikki. Science Inspector. There's pet instrument Susu mounting. His fiance. His society friends, huh? Beep. Susu. Here I am, Su. There he is. George. Hi, George, darling. Hi. I'll see you as soon as I am finished with the costume. Don't let him push you around, George. Don't worry. Well, Lindsay? Nothing doing. He didn't pass, I'm positive. Haven't had my eyes off him. If he's smuggling anything, dad, it's in his luggage or on him. Yeah, that means a body search. And I better go tell Zach. Thanks, son. Call me at home, dad, will you? I wonder if they'll find anything, Ellery, I wonder. Nothing, eh? Not a blasted thing, son. And really swears our carrots didn't pass anything to anyone. From the gangway to the custom ship. Our carrots raising Cain. He's calling Washington right now. I guess those tips are phonies and we fell for them. Keep me informed, dad. Oh, Nicky, the inspector. Yes, and it's a washout. Uh, oh. Oh, by the way, ellery, there's a Mrs. Prine waiting to see you. She's terribly concerned about her son. Her son? Well, all right. Oh, as long as she's here already. Yeah. Come in, Mrs. Prine. Yes, please come in, Mrs. Prine, and sit down, won't you? Oh, Mr. Queen, it's about Arthur. My boy. Yes, he's missing. He didn't come home yesterday. Suppose you tell me all about it. Well, we live in Harlem, Mr. Queen, just Arthur and me. I'm a widow, I'm sickly, and Arthur supports me. Where was Arthur supposed to be coming home from, Mrs. Prime? From his job. He's got a Butlin job over on park avenue, employed by Mr. Istram Ellery. Oh, the buddy of our good friend Nicky. Please go on, Mrs. Bryant. Well, every Saturday for three years, Mr. Queen, that boy's come straight home from Park Avenue with his salary. Here it is Sunday, and he ain't home yet. Have you called Mr. Istrom? Oh, yes, sir, yesterday evening. But he said Arthur had left at the usual time, saying he was going right home. I don't know what I'll do if Arthur don't show up by tonight. Mrs. Prine is afraid he'll lose his job. Ellery. Mr. Istrom's awful strict. Every morning, Arthur has to have Mr. Istrom's breakfast ready by 9:00 clock. Monday mornings. Arthur always gets there by 8:30, just so Mr. Istrom can eat on time. Did Istrom offer any possible explanation, Mrs. Bryant? He said not to worry. But I don't know, Mr. Queen. It don't sound like Arthur. Have you notified the police? Oh, no, sir. Mr. Estrom wouldn't like that. That's why I come to you, Mr. Queen. Yes, well, now, you. You go home and stop worrying, Mrs. Brine. I'll make the inquiries. Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Queen. That's all right. Thank you. Goodbye. Goodbye, Pip. Istrom's butler. And today George R. Karras came in. Funny coincidence. Nikki, get me the Missing Persons Bureau. Here she is, Ellery. Oh, good morning, Mrs. Bryan. Morning, Mr. Queen. Ms. Porter. I got down here just as fast as I could, Mrs. Bryan. I, I, I think we've found Arthur. You have? Where is he, Mrs. Prine? Yes, sir. I'm afraid we have some dreadful news for you. This is the City Mortuary. The what, sir? This is the morgue, Mrs. Prine. Nikki, it's all Right, sir. It's all right. Lean on me. Mrs. Brine, do you think that you're up to identifying Arthur officially for us? Mrs. Prine? I want to see my boy, Nikki. I know, ellery. All right, Mrs. Brian. Sergeant Ride, maestro. That's my son, Arthur. He was all damn wet like his body was taken out of the East river at five o'clock this morning. Arthur never did a wrong thing in his life. Only maybe play 10 cents on the numbers once in a while. He won $20 last month playing the number 31. What? Yes, sir. He liked that number 31. Been playing it for most a year. Do I go home now? Sergeant, take Mrs. Bryan home, will you? Yeah. War, Ms. Bryan. You use him. I think I'd like a cup of coffee, Hillary. Then Pip Istrom is going to have to give it to you. Istrom? But Ellery, it's so early in the morning. It's only 7:15. This can't wait. Nikki, there's a connection between Arthur's death and George Arkara's. That number 31. You mean just because Arthur played 31 all the time? And the numbers. The number of Arkaris's cabin on the aegea was also 31. Come on, Nicky. And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have the beginning of our mystery. If you want to relieve headache, neuritis or neuralgia pains quickly, try Anacin. The relief it brings is incredibly fast. Here's why. Anacin is made like a doctor's prescription. Contains not just one, but but a combination of medically active and proved ingredients. Get Anacin from your druggists. An easy to take tablet form. Keep it handy. And then next time you have a headache, pain or suffer pain of neuritis or neuralgia, take Anacin tablets. For most effective relief, use only as directed. Anacin A N, a C I N. And now back to our story. Hopping into a cab. Hillary and Nicky go directly from the city mortuary to Pip Istrom's apartment on Park Avenue. I can't see anyone at this hour. I'm just having my breakfast. Mr. Istrom. Your butler is dead. Arthur dead. Well, come in. Thank you. Yes, thank you. Please forgive the appearance of my apartment. Arthur is. Was the only servant I employed then. Something of a blow. He was a jewel. Won't you sit down? Thanks, Mr. Istrom, but will you mind if I have another cup of coffee? Not at all. Join me. No, thanks. Arthur's mother phoned me Saturday night, but naturally. How did I run over? Stabbed in some Harlem brawl. Even if he was In a brawl, Mr. Istrom, I strongly doubt that it took place. He died of a cerebral fracture. There's a bruise on his jaw, and the back of his head is not pretty. And then his body was dumped in the east river like a sack of garbage. In a word, Mr. Istrom, Arthur was murdered. That's clumsy of me. Well, see here, Queen. Do the police think I did it or some such nonsense? The last time I saw Arthur was Saturday evening when he left here. Perfectly all right. Mm. I take it that your friend George Arcaris knew Arthur. Sure. What has Arkharis to do with Arthur's death, Queen? That, Mr. Istrom, is what I propose to find out. George, he only got into the States yesterday morning. Arthur may not have been murdered until yesterday afternoon. Immersion in water, you see, often makes it difficult to fix the exact time of death. Now, look here, I'm getting a little bit bored with all this. My fiance Ms. Mounting, and I have known Mr. Araris for a long time, and I'm quite 31. I beg your pardon? I said 31. Does the number 31 mean anything to you, Mr. Istrom? Not a thing. Oh, then I'll let you return to your breakfast, Mickey. Now you're way off, son. What possible connection could there be? I don't know, dad, but there is one. All on account of a number 31. A coincidence, just the same. I'm going to see our car gallery. No. Why? Now lay off our carros, will you? You don't know the stench he's made. Now, please, son. Okay. But Dad, I think you're making a big mistake. And that seemed to be the end of the diamond smuggling case. And of the Arthur Prine case, too. The police got nowhere on it, and Ellery got grumpier every day. Then two weeks later, it was a Sunday. Nikki, is that you? Uh huh. In my Sunday best. Ellery. What's the matter, dear? Gia. It's sailing today. So what? George Arcaris is sailing on it. Suppose he is. Nikki, we can just make it. Make what? The A. I just solved it. Nikki, come on. I hope you know what you're doing, Mr. Queen. Trust me, Captain. You hope. Queen. Captain Dilly and Ms. Darius. Captain, open your cabin door, please. Yes, what is it, Captain? Where are these people? Mr. Arkaris, would you mind if this gentleman searches your cabin? Search? I mind very definitely, Captain. Perhaps if I explained. Mr. Arkaris, it's my theory that this cabin contains a hiding place. Hiding place of what? Of some diamonds. Oh, I see. Formerly, I've been accused of smuggling diamonds into the United States. Now I am accused of smuggling them out, is that it? Not exactly. But you will admit, Mr. Arkaris, won't you, that it's a very odd coincidence? You're always booking cabin 31 on the Aegea, both coming and going. Man is demented. Very well. Go ahead, sir. I can't hold up the ship, Mr. Queen. We sail in 10 minutes, Ellery. 10 minutes. One side, Nikki. You'll have to hurry, Mr. Queen. It is a pity my good friends Mr. Eastrom and Ms. Mounting did not stand board long enough to witness this spectacle. So Istrom and Ms. Mounting were here, Mr. Arkaris. Here in your cabin? You know them? Yes, Mr. Queen. They always see me off. That's very interesting, Arkaris, because the steel support of this bunk comes out, revealing a very effective hiding place. What? Why, it's big enough to hide a fortune in diamonds. But, Mr. Queen, it's. It's empty. Certainly, Captain. But it was full of diamonds when the Aegea docked, Ellery. He was certain when he got off the ship. Arkaris left the diamonds on board, Nikki. He never carried them off when the ship made port, but he made sure always to get cabin 31 for the return trip. You heard him just now, Pip. Istrom and Sue Mounting always see him off. Visitors to the ship on its outgoing voyage. Such visitors are not searched when they leave. One of them carried the diamonds off just a few minutes ago. Stand very still. My error. Do not move, please. Not even a little. Very good. Oh, the swine. Locked. Ellery, look here. Through the porthole. He's running down the gangway just as they're pulling it in. Never mind our carriers, Nikki. We've got to get to Wistrom's, Captain, get us off your ship. And so, Mr. Istrom, I will trouble you for those diamonds. Good Queen. They have nothing to do with our carris. My fiance, Ms. Mounting, did turn some jewels over to me this afternoon, yes. Oh, she did? Yes, she often does. Susa was very popular before our engagement, you know, with some extremely wealthy gentry. She gambles a little, I'm afraid. And she turned some of their gifts over to me for disposal. You know, my father made his money in South African diamonds. I still have some of Father's connection. Do you doubt my word? Are you as big an idiot as you sound, Istrom? Your precious Susu has been smuggling diamonds into the United States for your friend Arkaris and getting you to turn them into cash. That's a lie, Queen. That's a filthy lie. Simper, Mr. Istram. Sorry. Wow, you Knocked him out, Hillary. He's out cold. Yes. Now to find those diamonds. Don't bother, huh? So, Mounting. I've got them. Mr. Queen, isn't it? You know, Ms. Marty, that gun is probably loaded. You sure you know what you're doing? Oh, stop it. Now, you're both going to march out of here and go down to the street. You'll pretend nothing's wrong. You'll get into my car, drive it. I'll be in the back with this thing pointing at you. And you'll drive out to the country. Sounds cozy. Shut up. Where are we going, Susu? To a little hideaway cottage used by George R. Karras, our caris. Get going. You are an idiot, Suso, to bring them here. Why did you not shoot them in dips apart? Well, I. I'm not as used to shooting people as you are, George. I'm getting out of here. Say where you are. Perhaps it is just as well, Mr. Queen. I owe you something personally. Now that Susu has brought you here, we will make the best of it, eh? We have the diamonds. This is Pip Istrom's pistol. We will concoct the plot, Valerie. All right, Nicky. Macaris wouldn't be that foolish. Foolish? This cottage is owned by Pip East, Mr. Quinn. An accommodation to his good friend George. But nothing on paper, you understand? So we will bury you here. By the time you are found, Mr. Istram, who has been a dupe throughout, we'll have some explaining to do. No, don't, George. Wait. Wait till I go away with you. My dear Miss Mounting, we smuggle diamonds together. We will commit murder together. Oh, no. Or would you rather join them? I give you five seconds. Uso. Get it over with quick, Doc. Nicky. I've got his gun, dad. Nice shooting, Billy. Stand still, girlfriend. Take your pores off me, you. It's Mr. Astro. Pip, you filth. Has anybody got a drink? You've done your last drinking for some time, Ms. Mounting. And I don't think, Aaris, that you'll smuggle any more diamonds like these into the United States for some time. You will get me a physician and my consulate at once. Sure, sure. Well, son, another narrow squeak. You got Mr. Istrom to thank Maestro. He came to after the Mounting woman hustled you out. And phone us, PLO. I heard Sue's confession, Mr. Queen. It quite restored my sanity. Thanks for saving our lives, Istrom. Well, dad. Now hurry. Let's get out of here. Nikki. Don't you want to know who killed Mrs. Prine's son? Arthur? The murder of Mr. Istrom's butler, you mean. Son, the two cases are connected? Oh, yes, dad, and I'll tell you how right now. And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have the mystery. Now, Nikki, will you introduce our guest? Sure thing, Ellery. He's the popular screen and stage star, most recently seen with Ann Sheridan in the film Nora Prentice. Mr. Kent Smith. Good evening, Mr. Smith. Nice to have you here. Good evening, Ellery. Thanks for inviting me. I understand that this season you're going to be playing for the fourth time with Katherine Cornell and Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra, Is that right? That's right, Ellery. I played with Ms. Cornell in Canada St. Joan, wingless victory. And I'm looking forward with great enjoyment, to Anthony and Cleopatra. Lots of luck, Mr. Smith. Let's hope the play has a long run. But now let's get down to business, shall we? Tell me who killed Arthur Prime. Well, I. It seems rather simple from where I sit. I don't know whether it is or not, but I guess that Zeus is the real villain in this piece. Except that she the villainess. Yeah, Just to be grammatically correct. Well, I, I if I must say that I was fooled about Pip, but as long as he turns out to be okay, he probably having saved our lives, you mean? Yeah. Yes. Yeah. Came in handy there. And you gather. It was. Certainly did, yeah. And the motive? Well, that I can't quite establish, except she might have found him. He sent Pip, sent his Butler to cabin 31 and the code they use, and you connect it with the diamonds. Yeah. I see. Well, thank you very much, Mr. Smith. And you'll find out in just a moment what the solution is. I can't wait. Good. Now, here is Don Hancock. If you want to be certain your breath is sweeter and your teeth are brighter after brushing. Listen, Kalinose toothpaste has a mouthwash effect built right in to sweeten the breath. The moment you use Kalinose, its mouthwash effect instantly and unfailingly sweetens every case of unpleasant breath due to improper cleansing. Sweetens every case at the same time. Kalinose polishing action brightens teeth beautifully by removing ordinary yellow surface stains. So to be certain your breath is sweeter and your teeth are brighter, get K O L Y N O S K knows toothpaste or tooth powder tonight. I know, but how do you look? My show. What? Listen. Every morning for three years, Arthur prime prepared his employer's breakfast by 9:00 clock on Monday mornings. Arthur always got to Mr. Ist's apartment by 8:30. Mrs. Prime told us. Nikki. Just so Mr. Istrom can eat on time. Now, Nikki, do you recall the morning Mrs. Bryan identified Arthur's body at the morgue? Yes. It was a Monday morning. And what time was it when we left the morgue to go to Mr. Istrom's apartment? Very early, I think I said it was 7:15. That's right. We took a cab. We went directly from the morgue to Istrom's Park Avenue apartment. So when we saw Istrom, no more than 15 to 20 minutes could have elapsed. In other words, it was around 7:30 in the morning. And what was Istrom doing when we called on him at that hour? Eating his breakfast at 7:30am but this was breaking a fixed habit of years. Why on that particular Monday morning did not piff Istrom wait for his man Arthur to turn up to prepare breakfast for him? Because he knew Arthur was dead. Denary. They're the only ones who knew Arthur was dead at that time were ourselves and Arthur's mother. Arthur's body hadn't been fished out of the East river until 5am hadn't been identified by his mother until 7:15am 15 minutes before we found Istrom eating a breakfast he himself must have prepared. Since Arthur was his only servant. There is only one way Istrom could have known Arthur was dead. And that's if Istrom had killed him. Correct, Istrom? Correct. Yeah, but Maestro, why? And what did the number 31 have to do with it? Well, for some time, Arthur, who had a weakness for playing the numbers game, had been playing 31 because he had noticed that your good friend Arkaris always occupied cabin 31 of the Aegea. Arthur took that as a hunch, as so many numbers players do. But that last Saturday, Arthur suddenly realized that our Caris wasn't using cabin 31 of the Aegea just because he liked it. He had probably noticed also that each time after our car has sailed in cabin 31 in the Aegea, your fiance Istrom invariably deposited some diamonds with him. And your butler made the connection you were too blind to make. He told you that that Saturday afternoon, and you must. I was so outraged I lost my temper and hit Arthur in the jaw with all my strength. He fell hard and fractured his head on the floor. I didn't mean to kill him. I hit his body. Then, middle of the night, I took it down the surface elevator into my car. Disposed of it in the river. I'm afraid, Istram, that you've been your own worst enemy throughout too. Infatuated with Susu mounting to see what she really was. Too hot headed to control that murderous temper of yours and too foolish to call the police when Arthur died and rely on the simple truth now. You'll have to face a jury under very different circumstances. It'll be your own fault, Istrom, if they don't believe your story. Sergeant, take him in, too. And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have the solution to our mystery. Thank you again, Mr. Kent Smith, for being our guest armchair detective this evening. And as mementos of your visit with us, Anderson is proud to present you with this autographed copy of my new anthology, the Queen's Awards 1946, and a subscription to Ellery Queen's Mystery magazine. As a special gift, we have for you a Stromberg Carlson radio phonograph combination, complete with push button tuning and automatic record changer. We're also presenting you with a generous supply of Anacin for the relief of headache pain. Perhaps your own doctor has already recommended Anacin for the fast help it can give. Hillary will be back in a moment. The next time you suffer from pains of headache, neuritis or neuralgia, take Anacin. The relief it brings is incredibly fast. And here's why. Anacin is made like a doctor's prescription, contains not just one, but a combination of medically active and proved ingredients. Get Anacin from your druggist. An easy to take tablet form. Keep it handy. Then next time you have a headache, pain or suffer pain of neuritis or neuralgia, take Anacin tablets. For most effective relief, use only as directed. Anacin A N A C I N. Now, Ellery, what about next week? Next week's story, Done is about a tense problem in human relations and crime. I call it Tragedy in Blue. This is Ellery Queen saying good night for Aniston and enlisting all Americans in the fight against bad citizenship, bigotry and discrimination, the crimes which are weakening America. All names of characters used in this program are fictitious and do not refer to real people, either living or dead. Among the members of tonight's cast were Larry Dobkin, Charlotte Keene, Bill Smith and Ed Latimer. Music by Chet Kingsbury. Don Hancock speaking. Beginning September 28th, the makers of Aniston and Kalinos will bring you at the same time a new and exciting program direct from Hollywood called Hollywood Star Preview. Remember the date September 2028. This is NBC, the National Broadcasting Company Standard of California, on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the west, invite you to let George do it. The father who had nothing to say. Another adventure of George Valentine. Personal notice. Dangers, my stock and trade. If you perch behind the eight ball and can't see the clear, call on me, George Valentine. Write full details. Dear Mr. Valentine, For 10 years now, since I was 14, I've lived with a secret. The fact that I'm the son of a murderer convicted for life. Now I'm going to take a step I know may threaten everything that means happiness to me. Still, in all conscience, I must take it. And I can't think of anyone who can help me. Except perhaps you. Suppose we talk this over as quickly as possible. As quickly as possible. So I can supply what you so blithely call. Full details. Sign, Ralph Lochner. Brooksy. Yes, George? Without knowing any more about the young man than what he says in his letter, I think I'd like to knock myself out trying to help. Help him. But aside from the startling fact that his father is a convicted murderer, he didn't say very much. Yeah, but the way he said it. Angel, take a step that threatens his happiness, and he must take it. In all conscience. That's a nice phrase. In all conscience. Well, if things have worked out for him in the last 10 years, why doesn't he leave well enough alone? Well, that's what we're going to find out, Brooksie. Oh, I suppose that means we're on our way. Could we do anything else? I mean, in all conscience, Mr. Valentine, some cynical people would say the best thing in the world happened to me when my father was convicted of killing that woman. Well, that's a sweet way of looking at it. Well, what did happen to me? I lived with my father in a basement room of an apartment hotel. He was a handyman there. Not very much to look forward to. Well, men have started much lower in life than that. Then my father suddenly becomes a front page sensation. The murder of Lillian Wayne and I get put in an orphanage. That's that you'd say. But it wasn't. Go on. Well, then, all sorts of wonderful things happen to Harry Peterson's kid. That's me. Mr. And Mrs. Lochner adopt me. I get sent to the finest schools. My name's legally changed so that the secret is dead and buried. But you still can't forget your real father, can you? No, I. No, I can't, Ms. Brooks. I can only think of him as a pathetic little man who did all he could for me, not as a murderer. But you were only 14 then, Ralph. You naturally wouldn't want to think anything like that of your father. But the court I know. Guilty with a recommendation from Mercy. Well, he got a fair trial, didn't he? Yes, and I can appreciate how fair. You see, my foster father, Carl Lochner, let me choose whatever profession I wanted. Next month I'm going to be admitted to the bar. Yeah, well, I've gone all through the records of my father's trial, the testimony of the witnesses. Yes, he. He got a very fair trial. Well, then, what's on your mind? What's this step you've got to take, the one you mentioned in your letter? Well, knowing something about the law, I've decided that damning as the evidence was against my father, most of it was circumstantial. And he never did admit he killed that girl. But, well, if this is just a feeling you have and the case is 10 years old. Look, Ralph, you ought to know it's going to take something a lot more concrete than that to get past the receptionist at the da. Yes, but at least I'll feel I've done all I can. Oh, son. Is this Mr. Valentine, the gentleman you told me about? Oh, yes, Father. And this is Ms. Brooks. Oh, how do you do? Dad, I. I told Valentine everything. And I hope you still don't feel that. No, Ralph. I thought it over. I think you're right. Well, frankly, Mr. Lochner, I don't know what good I can do. And digging around in the past always involves a risk. I mean, publicity. Yes, and my secret may not remain a secret, Father. And I've been all through that. You can understand my anxiety, Mr. Valentine. Ralph's starting out in a career that holds a great deal of promise. He's engaged to Irene Masterson, a lovely girl from a fine family. She has to find out that I'm the son of a murder, then. Well, that's the way it'll have to be. You just do what you think is necessary. Mr. Valentine. Mr. Valentine. The warden told me you're going to try to prove I'm innocent. I want you to do nothing. Get out. Wait a minute, Peterson. I don't want you to reopen the case. You will not find anything different. Aren't you changing your tune? After 10 years, not once did you admit you killed Lillian Way. He. Just the same. You stay out of this and do not come back to see me again. Wait. Take it easy, Peterson. We still got a few minutes. You heard what I said. Yeah. I may as well tell you. No matter how you feel about it, I'm going to find out the truth. Why do you do this when I Tell you no. Your son wants it that way, Mr. Peterson. Well, yeah. Look at me, Valentine. Is he a very happy man? I don't believe it. Prison has been good to me here. I learned to read and write. I'm in charge of the books in the library. Your life's complete, huh? Ten years ago, I fixed it so my son gets everything I could never give to him. Now in the newspapers, I read his marrying big society girl. He is happy. I am happy. Why do you poke your nose in? Don't you like to see people happy? Well, Peterson, let's stop kidding each other. You'd rather throw away a chance to get out of this place than to have people find out that Ralph Peterson and Ralph Lautner are one in the same. You don't know what you're talking about. Okay, have it your way, Peterson. But if you didn't kill Lillian Wayne, it's my job to find out who did. And believe me, I'm gonna give it a good try. Ms. Brooks, 12 good men and true decided that beyond any reasonable doubt, Harry Peterson murdered Lillian Wayne. I know, Lieutenant, but George called up and asked me to come over and see if you have any additional information. Well, just what I gave you there. Copy what you want, okay? It's all a matter of public record. Say, just a second, Ms. Brooks. Hold it. Is there something Valentine knows about this case that I don't know? Huh? I mean, just being a member of the police force. Oh, I couldn't tell you. The last time I heard from him, he was calling from the penitentiary after he saw Mr. Peterson. What, you mean he went all the way up there to another one of his hunches, huh? Say, what's the name of this witness here, Lieutenant? You can read, Ms. Brooks, but I tell you, there can't be anything to it. Five witnesses put Harry Peterson on the scene of the crime. His fingerprints were all over the table lamp that was used to knock her off. And what about motive, Lieutenant Riley? Well, to pull it delicately, Ms. Brooks, this little shrimp gets a yen for Lillian Wayne, who's by the way of being a gorgeous model. She can't see him. He can't take no for an answer. And zowie. Very delicately put, Lieutenant. Why? Well, if it's as open, as shut as all that, George will just come up with the answer you've got here. Well, of course, of course, there's only one answer. He's just wasting his. Oh, never mind. I'm just whistling in the dark. Yeah. Mr. Donnelly. Shh. Not so loud, huh? What's the matter? Look, miss, did you ever have a baby? Oh, wrong question, huh? Well, anyway, come on in, but trust me. Ryder, be quiet. Hey, what's this on about? Oh, it's the kid. The wife's out shopping. You should have seen the time I had getting that baby to sleep. Say, who are you, anyway? And how'd you know who I was? Look, where can we talk above a whisper? Oh, well, well, come on in here. Okay. Now, what do you want? I'm just checking on exactly what happened to Lillian Wayne the day she was murdered. Who? Lillian Wayne. Yeah, yeah, I heard you, but why you bringing that up? Look, who are you, mister? Just someone who's not so sure Harry Peterson killed Ms. Wayne. I don't know anything about that. I told the police my story. Sure, I had a fight with Lillian, but that was all. And they let it go at that. They had to. I went down the elevator an hour before the chambermaid. Saw Peterson go into the apartment. What was the fight about? Just me waking up to find out what a sucker I was. Hey, translate that, will you? Well, I was a pretty sharp middleweight, though. Days dame's a dime a dozen. But Lillian says she's only got eyes for me. And like a school kid, I believed her. Oh, then you found out about the Little black book. Yeah, but that I didn't know. Later, Peterson's trial. All I knew then was that some guy was sending flowers to her every day from the flower shop around the corner. So we had a fight and I. Well, I guess I lost my temper. How badly did you lose it? Well, I. I guess I poked a one. Oh. Huh. Well, if it weren't for Peterson, then you would have been tagged for suspect number one. Don't remind me, pal. And for Pete's sake, don't let this get back to my wife. She don't know anything about me and Lillian. Oh, don't worry, Donnelly. I have to be good at keeping secrets. Oh, thanks. You don't know my wife's temper. If she ever found out, she'd knock my ears off. Now, Mr. Valentine, just who sent you to see me? I'm very busy. I have an elaborate floral wreath to make up. No one sent me. Mr. Jeffries, your name just happens to be on the list of witnesses in the Lillian Wayne case. Oh, and Mike Donnelly mentioned that you own this floral shop near Lillian's apartment hotel. Mike Donnelly? That thug? I. I was hoping by now he had his head knocked off in the ring. Oh, my, such unruly passions. Mr. Jeffries. Yes. What have you got against Mike. That man actually assaulted me in the corridor during the trial. Just because I told the truth. Which is? It was Donnelly who bought the flowers I was delivering to Ms. Wayne that day. I keep a record of every transaction in my store. A very methodical man. That's very interesting. I don't know why I should have gotten so excited. The police cleared him of any connection with the murder. Yeah. Yeah, that was heart. Gratitude. Was it, Mr. Jeffries? What do you mean? Well, it was mostly your testimony that placed Harry Peterson in the dead woman's apartment at the time of the murder. There was no question about that. It was Peterson who came to the door and accepted the flowers. But it seems stupid, doesn't it, to answer the door when you have a corpse on your hands? Not at all. Peterson worked there. He knew that I'd have the manager let me in so I could place the flowers in the water and something equally stupid. I mean, allowing himself to be seen. Oh, he tried not to show himself, but he had to sign a receipt. That's when I got a glimpse of him. Oh, it was Peterson, all right. Receipt? Why, yes, that's right. You didn't mention a receipt in any of your court testimony. I assure you, I had all I could do to answer the barrage of questions they kept throwing. Throwing at me. I see. You. You said you were a methodical man, Mr. Jeffries. I guess you kept that little memento of the Wayne trial. Well, I. I probably have it in the envelope with the clippings of the trial somewhere in that desk drawer there, huh? Naturally, Peterson didn't sign his own name. He thought he was being smart, scribbling down a phony one. Larrabee, as I remember. I see. Well, that's it, I guess. Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Jeffries. Don't mention it. Now maybe I can finish that floral wreath. All right, George, let's have it. Why'd you give up so easily? I mean, about the receipt. Just being cautious, Angel. But you said yourself it would be so conclusive one way or the other. Just comparing the handwriting with Peterson. I know, Brooks, but as I said, let's take it easy. Like Jeffries is lying through his teeth. But I can't afford to scare him off until I find out why. You mean he actually framed poor Peterson? I'm sure of it. You see, Angel, Peterson couldn't possibly have signed that receipt, huh? He didn't learn to read or write until after he was sent to prison. Foreign to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. In just a moment Meantime, here's some exciting, valuable news for today's car owners. Atlas Tire engineers have produced a new tire that gives the softest ride you've ever had, even when you're on the roughest roads. It's the Atlas Grip Safe Cushion Air, kind of big brother to the famous Atlas Grip Safe tire. Cushionaire is a big brother because it has the same quality, extra safety, quietness and steering ease of Atlas Gripsafe tires, plus more air at lower pressure to put your car on a cushion of air. And it's backed by the most valuable warranty in the tire industry, the written Atlas warranty That's good at 38,000 stations in 48 states and Canada. Seven days a week. Ask about extra low pressure Atlas Cushion Air tires tomorrow. They're made especially for new cars and can be adapted to many older models, too. Ask at an independent Chevron gas station or a standard station where they say and mean, we'll take better care of your car. And now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. Well, a very intense young man named Ralph Lochner says he wants you to make sure, one way or the other, his father is guilty of the murder he was convicted of 10 years ago. Finally, if you play it like George Valentine, you arrive at the unshakable conviction that the father is innocent. And in effect, that's just what you're telling Ralph and his foster father, Carl Lochner, right now. It's as simple as that, gentlemen. What do you mean? I know Mr. Peterson didn't kill Lillian Wayne. I might even be able to prove it. But it would be a lot easier and a lot surer. At first I found out who the murderer really was. Why didn't that fool Jeffrey say something about a receipt? Of course, my father could never have signed it. I remember as a kid how ashamed I was because he couldn't read or write. I know how you feel, Ralph. It was a terrible oversight. Oversight? 10 years of someone's life gone just like that because some stupid florist forgets to mention a receipt. Well, Jeffries might have forgotten that little thing, but he was deliberately lying when he identified the man at the door as your father. Well, let's do some something about it. Turn him over to the police, will you, fella? They'd shake the truth out of him. I'd like to be the lawyer for the prosecution. I'd say he made an honest mistake. After all, there were other witnesses. What do you propose to do, Valentine? Well, I'd like to know why Jeffrey's put The finger on Mr. Peterson homie was trying to protect. Do you think he's at all suspicious? Oh, he's bound to be a little, but I tried to ease out of it. I'd feel a lot better if we had that receipt. Oh, it's safe enough. It's in the middle drawer of the desk in back of his florist shop. Mm. I agree with your thinking, Valentine. But just the same, you're up against a pretty impossible job. The name Larrabee is patently fictitious, and this is a murder that's 10 years old. Where do you start? With the obvious, Mr. Lochner. And I can't think of anyone more obvious than our ex pugilist friend, Mike Donnelly. Oh, I asked you, Ms. Brooke, did you ever see a kid like that always falling? Your wife out shopping again, Mr. Dominick? Yeah, Thursday night. She's got a bingo game. Oh. Excuse me a minute. Okay. Yeah, that's better. Now we can go on, talk. Well, you don't mind giving us your signature so we can compare it with the one on Mr. Jeffrey's receipt. Oh, why should I mind? Fine. Here. Hey. Huh? Oh, thanks. Hey, just what did that guy tell you about me, anyway? Well, he said you ordered the flowers for Miss Wayne the day she was murdered. Oh, he did, huh? Go on. What else? And that you and he had a little fight in the courthouse during the trial. A little fight? I nearly killed him. And I'll tell you why. Because it might interest you, Ms. Brooks. Yes, of course, it makes me look like a dope, but here it is just the same. I. I knew he was getting flowers and presents from somebody, so I used to stall around downstairs to see who it was. I see. All I saw was Jeffrey's delivered flowers. The owner of the flower shop myself, mind you, not one of the boys. Then it dawned on me. It's also beginning to dawn on me. Yeah, he was making time with Lillian, too. She admitted it. That's why we had to fight the afternoon she was killed. So there was room in Lillian's big, generous heart for our Mr. Jeffries as well. Yeah, among others. You know, Mr. Donnelly, I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't given me a lot more than your signature. Didn't I tell you not to come back? Look, Mr. Peterson, the man who killed Ms. Wayne signed a receipt for some flowers, and you didn't learn how to write till you came here. That's true. Well, don't you see? There's enough doubt now to get you another hearing. It's bound to come out that Ralph Lochner is your son. So how about working with me instead of against me? If I could only believe after all these years, I could be together with my son again. Used to know he don't have to be ashamed of me. I'd do anything, Mr. Valentine. Anything. Good. Now tell me, Mr. Peterson, just what did happen that day? It's true. With all those people. People said the chambermaid, the elevator boy, the others. I was in Ms. Wayne's apartment to fix the Venetian blade. She called downstairs in the morning. Go on. I rang the bell. When she didn't answer, I used the pass key. And there she was on the floor, dead. Didn't know what to do. I picked up the lamp, put it back on the table and just stood there looking at it. And that's how your fingerprints got on the lamp. Now, tell me, did Jeffries the Florence make a delivery while you were there? No. Nobody. When I made myself understand what happened to the lady, he ran downstairs to my room. He was sitting there when the police came. Poor Ralph. He was such a young boy then. He didn't understand what it meant when they took me away. You got a fine son, Peterson. If they let me go, could I be with my Ralph again? Well, your son will be a lawyer soon. He'll think of something. I leave everything to you, Mr. Ra. Well, in tight. I have just one more stop to make when I get Back to town, Mr. Peterson. And I'll feel a whole lot better when that's out of the way. Come on, quick. Brooks. He. Close that door. We don't want the cop on the beach to spot the light back here. Oh, we'll just tell him we're a couple of flower lovers. What do you think of Donnelly? Story about Jeffries being on Lillian Wayne's bandwagon too? More about that angel. Right now I want to get a picture of every seat. If I can get Riley working on it without Jeffrey's getting suspected. George, look. The desk. Hey, a very clumsy job. Oh, I wanted Jimmy to open the drawer with much more finesse. It's only a formality, but let's see. Yeah, just about everything else on the Wayne trial, but no receipt. Oh, I outsmarted myself, Brooksie. And missed the boat. Well, one sure thing, George Jeffries wouldn't break into his own death. Why not? If he wanted to make it appear that someone else stole that all important piece of paper? It meant so much to somebody. He probably destroyed it by now. Yeah. Hey, you know, angel, maybe I didn't miss the boat after All. Maybe it just looked that way. It wasn't going out, it was coming in. Funny. Things don't look any rosier to me, darling. Well, that's because it's late. You're tired, you need some sleep. Oh, now, George, wait a minute. Now be careful. When you get to the end of the alley, be sure nobody sees you. Then grab a cab and I'll be in touch with you later. But what about you? I'll be going back to the office in a few minutes. I'm sure I'm going to have a visitor. Now scram. Hello, operator? I want you to call the police and report a burglary. Jeffries Florist Shop. 937 Grant Boulevard. Who, me? Oh, just put down a public spirited citizen. Well, if it isn't nature Boy, I was just about to give you up. You were in my shop tonight, weren't you? Why don't you give up, Jeffries? You don't stand the chance of a deep freeze salesman in Siberia. You've just been lucky for 10 years. Where's that receipt, Valentine? What makes you so sure I've got it? You're the only one who knew where it was. Let's have it. That's my lease on life. You think I'm joking, don't you? On the contrary. But I know you won't let that.38 in your hand go off until you find out what happened to that. Don't be too sure about that. I haven't any time to waste on you. You're a many sided character, my friend. It was a real shock when I found out that you were another one of the boys in Lillian Wayne's mail harem. You're a liar. Liar. Now you're adding slander to perjury. Get up. Now put your hands up. If you have that receipt on you, I'm gonna find it. Doesn't it ever make you sick to your stomach having to live with yourself? Shut up. Didn't you ever think of Peterson in the prison laundry of the Cute Mill while you were flouncing around up to your hips in flowers? It's got to be here somewhat. Your kids. Get back, Jeffries. You're trapped. Peterson couldn't sign anything. He didn't know how to read or write. Wait. What was that? What did you say? I knew I'd get a rise out of here. I'll kill you. Better drop it, Jeffries, if you want to use this ar. All right. What are you going to do? I was just wondering how to make you stay put. While I make a couple of phone calls. You can't. Uhhuh. I think Harry Potter Peterson would like it done this way. Yeah. Oh, your timing is perfect, Angel. The visitor. Oh, he's here, but he's out. Never mind. Sure, come on over, join the party. Sure this calls for a party. Brooksie, less than five minutes ago, I found out who really killed a fair Lillian Valentine. I know it's probably just an oversight, but I've never been advised a homicide bureau has been moved over here to your office. Well, I thought we could clean this thing up faster over here. Lieutenant, I never killed that woman. I'm not saying another word until you let me talk to my lawyer. You're gonna need two lawyers, Jeffries. I hate to interrupt this delightful discussion, but Mike Donnelly's in the outer office fussing and fuming. George, it seems when you called him, you woke up his baby. Sorry, but he has the answers to a lot of questions that'll have to be asked. What right you have to keep me here. What's the charge? There isn't any. That's why you won't let me get to my lawyer. Oh, so I have no charge to hold you on, huh? Well, forgetting about suspicion of murder, there's a little matter of perjury. Then there's illegal entry. Forcing your way into a respectable citizen's place of business. Thank you. Assault and Valerie on this defenseless citizen. No charge, huh? Why, you. Hennessy, take this monkey downtown. Yes, sir. You won't get a thing out of me, no matter what you do. And watch him, Hennessy. Now, Valentine, there's still a few questions I have to ask you. Oh, just a minute, Lieutenant. I think someone just came in the outer office. It's probably the lockness. Brooksie. Ms. Valentine, what'd you find out? I just saw them take Jeffrey's away. We got here as soon as we could. Just what has happened? This is Lieutenant Riley. Gentlemen. How do you do? Hello. We were just getting to that, Mr. Locking. Hey, what about me? Valentine. Okay, Donnelly, come on in. The wife's at a midnight movie. I had to get a neighbor to stay with the kid. Valentine, what'd you find out about Jeffries? The name of the murderer. What? Jeffries didn't have the receipt and I didn't take it from his shop. Well, how does that tell you who the murderer was? Oh, the simple process of elimination was. I don't follow you, George. I told only two people where that receipt was. You, Ralph, and you, Mr. Lochner. I'm afraid I don't understand. Yes. What are you driving at, Valentine? Paying blackmail to Jeffries all these years, even adopting Harry Peterson's son can't change one fact, can it, Mr. Luckner? You kill Lillian Wayne. Hey, hey, hey. Come on, Brooksie. Come on. Get your head up off the lieutenant's desk. Oh, I wasn't sleeping. Oh, no, no, you were just trying to see if you could look through your eyelids. Well, come on, kids. I'm gonna have me a gallon of coffee. It's been a long night. Did you get a statement from Lochner and Jeffrey? Yeah, yeah, it's all sewed up. Victim of circumstance. You keep reading that corny phrase, but you only appreciate it when you run up against a Harry Peterson. Oh, come now, Lieutenant. It wasn't just a hand of fate. It got a couple of assists. Yeah, yeah. Jeffries delivers some flowers to his girlfriend. The rat hangs around downstairs to see who his rival is. It turns out to be the wealthy Mr. Lochner. So Jeffries helps put Peterson away and then blackmails Lochner. Plenty for keeping quiet. You know, I was wondering, Lieutenant. What's that? Did it really ease Lochner's conscience adopting Peterson's kid? The longer I'm in this game, the less I know about people. I was wondering about something too, Albert. I was wondering if poor Donnelly had much trouble getting his baby to sleep. Oh, you're poor. Punch drunk, angel. Let's get that coffee. Some folks claim that one motor oil is just like another until a mechanic tells them they need a new set of piston rings. But folks who use RPM motor oil find piston ring troubles are few, few and far between. This premium quality motor oil is compounded to keep a cooling lubricant on upper cylinder walls at all times. Whether your car is standing cold for hours at a time or running hot, RPM clings to vertical engine parts left bare and exposed to wear by ordinary oils. And because RPM is always on the job, your chances of engine trouble caused by rust are are reduced to about zero. That's mighty important when you remember that hidden rust causes as much as 80% of engine wear in the average car. No wonder RPM motor oil is the choice of Western motorists two to one over any other motor oil for trouble free operation and longer car life. Get RPM tomorrow at independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations where they say and mean. We'll take better care of your car next week when you tune our way for another adventure of George Valentine, you'll hear. Hello? Oh, Brooksie. Oh, George. I've been worried about you. Where are You. Well, I. Careful what you say, buddy. Yeah, I see what you mean. Oh, Brooksie, I just wanted to tell you not to worry. If I'm away for a couple of days on this job, I know I can leave everything to you. George, something's wrong. I'm going to call Lieutenant Riley. Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. That's enough, Valentine. Hang up that phone if you know what's good for you. Yeah, I know. All right. Good night, Brooksie. I'll be seeing you, I hope. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and Standard stations throughout the West. The Let George do it stars Robert Daly as George with Francis Robinson as Claire. Wally Mayer appears as Lieutenant Riley. Tonight's story was written by David Victor and Herbert Little, Jr. And directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Harry Lewis as Ralph, Herbert Butterfield as Lochner, Louis Van Ruten as Peterson, Eddie Marr as Donnelly and Robert Jellison as Jeffries. The music is composed and conducted by Eddie Dunstepper. Your announcer, John Hen. Listen again next week, same time, same station, to Let George Do It. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System. Oh, no. And how tall are you, Papa? Tell us how tall. I'm 20 foot 5 in my stocking feet. How big are your shoes? What size do you wear? Size 902 and a triple Z. That's our papa. The Big Guy. NBC presents the Big Guy, the first in a new series of adventures of a very unusual detective, Joshua Sharp. Joshua Sharp works for his clients on a strictly cash basis to provide for the needs of his nearest and dearest. His nearest and dearest are two in number, Josh Jr. And his daughter, Debbie. To these two, Sharp is both father and mother. To his clients, he is a good detective. To Josh and Debbie, he's the friendly magician, the fabulous hero, the giant among giants. The Big Guy. Tonight's adventure with the Big Guy, the unheard voice. People who think that children don't fall in love just don't know children. I know mine and I've seen it. They fall and they fall hard with all their hearts and souls. And if by any chance the romance goes wrong, the bottom falls out of their world, a dream collapses and the mark is left that may last forever. My kids, Debbie and Josh fell in love with little Mr. Dooley on site. Of course, he had his charms. He took tickets at the carousel in the park. And naturally, he was the logical object of love for everyone in the neighborhood. Under the age of 10. Saturday was Dooley Day, and for weeks and weeks nothing had been able to do distract my two from paying a call on the wrinkled faced gnome of a man in his red checkered shirt and his baggy corduroy pants. I take them to the park and across the lawns, but no sooner were they in sight of their idol than they break loose from me and make a run for Mr. Dooley. Mr. Dooley. Mr. Dooley. How are you, Mr. Dooley? I'm fine. Little fiddle string and fiddle the fiddle stick and ready to play your tune. Isn't it a pretty day, Mr. Dooley? Nearly as pretty as you are. Pine and silk and sweet enough and enough to make a man dance into the cheek. Oh, look at Mr. Dooley. He's dancing his dance. You dance very nicely, Mr. Dooley. I dance a lot nicer, said Pat. I got a bone in my foot. What? Papa. Papa, Mr. Dooley's got a bone in his foot. Oh, that's nothing to worry about. Everybody has a bone in his foot. It's a joke, Josh. A joke. Oh, sure, a bone in your foot. It's only a joke, Debbie. Everybody ready for the next ride? And your dimes? Ready. Let's go, Debbie. I'll help you up. Ah, there we are. I got up by myself. And here's a dime for you, Mr. Dooley. Oh, that dime ain't for me. It's for the horses. They gotta eat. You know why? They don't have to eat their wood. Mr. Dooley's only kidding. Ain't you, Mr. Dooley? Kidding indeed. Why, if you were wood, you'd find a nice handful of fresh sawdust. Tasted pretty good after a fast day of running around in circles. Here we go. Everybody hold tight. They're all. Yes, sir, they are all. Bye, Mr. Dooley. Bye, Mr. Dooley. Bye. And then one Saturday morning, tragedy struck. It was on page two, and the lead told the story. Bond Avenue mansion robbed home of broker Jacob Jansen looted in his absence by a masked burglar. Butler held at gunpoint. City detective Walt Reynolds arrests former Jansen employee Willie Dooley. Willie Dooley, Josh and Debbie's friend at the carousel. Once, I'd had to tell Josh that his puppy was dead, and he'd asked a lot of questions through his tears that neither I nor any other man could answer. Before broaching the subject of Mr. Dooley's dilemma, I thought I'd better have full details. So I took a cab down to Detective Reynolds office at precinct headquarters. I'd known him casually for Years. And he told me what he knew. Well, the call came in last night at a little after 11, Mr. Sharp. From whom? The Jansen butler. He gave his name as Anton Schindler. The burglar had held him up while he opened a safe in the library. And helped himself to what? Unlisted, negotiable bonds in the amount of $50,000. $50,000? We contacted Jansen. He's in Bermuda. Do you really think Mr. Dooley did it, Reynolds? No, I don't think he did. Then why did you pick him up? Well, I didn't pick him up. A couple of my boys brought him in, and they've built a case against him that I can't ignore. What kind of case? Oh, he used to work in Jansen's house. A kind of janitor, I think. Yes. He knew the layout of the house and the habits of the family. That hardly means he did the robbery. Well, of course it doesn't. But whoever did knew that the side door was always left open. That was the means of entry. Yes. You add all this together and include the fact that Dooley was seen in the neighborhood 15 minutes before the mass burglar went to work. And you've got a fair police case. Yes, I can see that. Has the butler identified Dooley as his assailant? Schindler hasn't been in yet. Then it largely depends on Schindler's testimony. Whether the little man is indicted or not. I'd say it depends on it entirely. I think it would be a little difficult to identify a masked burglar. Frankly, so would I. About Dooley? Yes? Is he alone in the world? No, no. There's a wife, Mrs. Irma Dooley. She's practically frantic about this business. Sharp. She's coming in in a few minutes to talk to me. I see. Look, Reynolds. Yes? Don't jump to any conclusions. You don't have to. Em. Am I right in thinking you've got an interest in Mr. Dooley? Why, yes. Yes, you're right. I don't see how you tie in with him, Chant. Well, you see, I've got two kids and they like him. Oh, I guess you'll think I'm not. You don't have to explain. No, no. I've got kids myself. Oh, excuse me. Randall speaking. Sorry to butt in, but Mrs. Dooley is waiting to see you. Okay. Thanks. The wife is here. Then I'll be going. Sharp. Yes? Don't worry too much about Dooley. I'll do all I can for him. I crossed Irma Dooley's path in the waiting room. And Reynolds gave us a quick introductory, explaining that I was interested in her husband's case. She threw me a bright smile of gratitude. And I remember thinking that she was surprisingly pretty and young to be the wife of Mr. Dooley. Then I started on my homeward way, trying to puzzle out the best method of breaking the news to Debbie and Josh. At least it was nice to know that the little ticket taker had somebody to look after him. The appearance of Irma Dooley made me feel better. But it wouldn't have if I'd known what happened in Reynolds private office after I left precinct headquarters. Everything is working out on schedule, isn't it, darling? Careful with the darling. He's gone. You're not getting nervous, are you? Man isn't nervous because he's careful. He may get nervous if he forgets to be. You're not getting nervous? No. How well did you sleep? Fine. Don't lie to me. How well could I sleep? It's no fun framing Dooley this way. The only wrong he's done is to be too much in love with me. The only wrong we've done is to fall too much in love with each other. Still, if only it could be simple and easy. He's the one who's made that impossible. He's the one who's threatened to kill you if you leave him. I know. I know. So if for no other reason, we've got to go through with this. But when he gets out. By that time, we'll be in far away places. Where he'll never even think to look for us. When you say that, I don't care what we have to do or who we have to hurt. Smile a little. I'll smile all the time. As soon as I'm sure we won't fail then. You can begin now. We won't. You can't be sure. Oh, yes, I can. They may not convict him. Don't let that worry you. Was. Yeah. What have you done? I've talked to Schindler about that. Mm. He's not an incorruptible man, Mr. Schindler. What do you mean? I offered him a deal and he accepted. What can he do? Can't you imagine? No. Then wait till the trial. Wait till the DA Questions him, and you'll see. Your name is Anton Schindler? Yes, sir. And you were employed by Mr. Jacob Jansen in his home at 211 Bond Avenue? I am, sir. Very good. Now, Mr. Schindler, on the night of April 27th. An armed man entered the Jansen premises and made away with some $50,000 in negotiable bonds. That is quite correct, sir. Also, according to your testimony, the man was masked, which would make it very difficult for you to identify him. Well, sir, it seemed it would be very difficult at the time. Will you explain that remark? Gladly, sir. Up to that point, I'd never heard him speak. Who? The defendant, sir. And now that you have. It's the sort of voice one does not easily forget, sir. Are you. Are you identifying your assailant, Mr. Schindler? There is no further question in my mind, sir. He's lying. The defendant, Mr. Willie Tr. Somebody. Somebody help me. Help me. But nobody could help little Mr. Dooley. The butler's testimony had swung the balance and the jury was out for less than an hour. When they returned, it was with a verdict of guilty and a three year sentence at the state penitentiary. And I was left to try to explain to two baffled and broken hearted children. But Papa. Papa, it's Saturday again. And we didn't go for two weeks. And Mr. Dooley won't know what happened to us. If we could just go by and see how do you do. And tell him we're sorry we disappointed him and. But you. You didn't disappoint him, Debbie. We must have. He knows we always come. Listen, Josh. Debbie. What's the matter? Papa, I. I don't know exactly how to tell you this, but. Well, Mr. Dooley isn't there anymore. Isn't there? Where is he? He went away for a while. You mean he doesn't like us anymore? No, that's not what I mean at all. Then how could he go away and leave us? We wouldn't leave him. He didn't want to go away. You see. Somebody made him. Who? The police. Police? Yes. What have they got to do with Mr. Dooley? They have something to do with all of us, Josh. When's he coming back? When the police let him. Then make the police let him come back, Papa. Oh, yes, Papa. Make him let him come back. You can do that, can't you? You can do it, can't you, Pap? I tried to do something for Mr. Dooley. I talked to Mrs. Dooley and the lawyer who defended him. But there are things that even the biggest of big guys just can't do. And six months went by and in our flat there were six months of mourning for Mr. Dooley. Then one night in mid winter, I was in a taxi homeward bound, when suddenly from the radio the state and city police ask your cooperation in a manhunt that has been in progress since 6:15 this evening. @ which time a convict effected his escape from the state penitentiary and is now somewhere at large in this vicinity. He is 5 foot 2, weighs 110 pounds, has blue eyes, thinning dark hair and answers to the name of Willie Dooley. It was a relief when I got home to find the radio silent. And the two admirers of Willy Dooley quietly absorbed in a game of Parcheesi. All was quiet under our roof. The announcement had not been heard, but it had been heard under another roof. And there all was not so quiet. A woman was pacing the floor of a tower apartment in the Greystone Arms. Her name was Irma Dooley, and she stopped in her tracks when. Reynolds. Yes? Well, well. I haven't seen you in quite a while, lover. It takes an emergency to bring you here. Let's not waste precious time. Irma, just one thing. Tell me, will you, mister? Tell me what happened to that big love of ours. That romantic flight to faraway places. Could we skip the argument, please? You lose interest in a girl off of seven? Detective Reynolds, I've come to help you if you'll give me the chance. Yeah? Yes. Here's cash. I thought you'd need it. 500 bucks. Oh. All for me? All for you. And it closes our accounts. What's that supposed to mean? Don't nag me, Irma. This is a big, bad night. Buy yourself a ticket on an airplane and go as far as the money will carry you. And what about you? You can count me out. Of what? Everything. Including my life. I said everything. Just a minute. You can leave me, Reynolds, but you're not going far, darling. No? No. Because the minute you walk out, I'm going to phone Sharp and tell him about that frame you worked with Schindler. He'll help me. He was pretty interested in Dooley's case. I hope you're joking. Joking? You think I'd take this fall alone, go flying off by myself until I wind up stranded and Dooley comes back and kills me? Really? Call Sharp. Oh, help me. You do. And you know what? What? I'll kill you, darling. I had given the kids their supper, told them a long story with a happy ending and put Josh to bed. I was sitting over the Parcheesi board for a Good Night game with Debbie when. Hello, Sean? Yes? Armadilli. Oh, yes. Who is it, Papa? Just a lady. I know. Who you talking to? My kids. Go on. I'd like to talk to You? I'm listening. Face to face. I'd rather. When? As quick as possible. Tonight? Yeah, I think you'll think it's worth it. I've got news about how Willie Dooley was framed. Frame. Just a minute, will you? There's somebody at the door. What was that about? A friend. I'm telling you on the level. Just come over and you'll. Okay, okay. Hold your horses, will ya? Where do I come to? The Greystone Arms. What Apartment 11. Deal. Listen, hold on a second, will you? Show up. I've got to see who that is. Who is it? What's the matter with you? Trying to break? No, no. You're kidding. You didn't mean it when you said you'd kill me. You didn't really mean it, now, did you? All the way over in the cab and going up in the elevator, I knew what was waiting in 11d of the Greystone Arms. Still, it was when I walked in and saw her lying there sprawled out on the floor, her negligee and the carpet around her dyed scarlet with her fresh life's blood. I took a look around the apartment for some clue to tie in with our phone conversation of a few minutes before, but all I could find, of any interest, was a wad of tens and twenties clutched tightly in the corpse's hands. I pried it loose. I had rippled through it and discovered that it amounted to exactly $500, when from the open door behind me, I heard. Em. Em, it's me. Why, Mr. Dooley. Huh? Oh. Oh, I know you. You're a guy what used to bring a couple of kids to the carousel every Saturday. That's right. Josh and Debbie. What you doing here, mister? Well, I'm a detective. The police? No, Private. And Irma called me and asked me to come over. It wasn't more than 15 minutes ago. I see. Where is she now? She's. She's lying almost at your feet, Ermin. Try and take it easy, Dooley. Oh. Oh, my pretty. My pretty. It took her away from me. It took her away. Get hold of yourself, Ernie. Ermie, listen. Listen. She was all for you. That much I can tell you. She was killed trying to tell me that you'd been framed. Yeah. Yes. Now the cops are looking for you. I know how you feel, but you can't afford it right now. If they catch you, you're going back for a longer stretch than before, and Irma wouldn't have wanted that. Now look at me and think. What did she mean you'd been framed? I don't Know who planned it, Mister? I don't know who framed me, but I know who lied. Who? That Schindler. That butler. He said he recognized my voice and he couldn't have. How could he have? I wasn't there. Then we're going for a taxi ride. To where? To the Jansen house on Bond Avenue. Yes. Yes, we'll have a little talk with Mr. Schindler and make him tell us exactly what went on. Let's go. Mister. Yes, you. You've been pretty nice to me. I don't know how I'll ever pay you. You don't have to ever pay me. No, no. Just give Josh and Debbie a couple of rides for free. Schindler answered the door at the Bond Avenue mansion. He was sorry, but Mr. Jansen was in Nassau this. And he couldn't admit us. Then the light from a passing car fell on Dooley standing behind me and Schindler stepped back, the blood draining from his face. He was terrified that Dooley meant to kill him on the spot. And I did nothing to alter that impression. In fact, I aided and abetted it every way I could. Don't let him. Don't let him hurt me. I'm not here to protect you, chum. I'm on Dooley's side. And for my part, he's within his rights. If he sends you to the morgue. Please, I've got a wife. So did Mr. Dooley have a wife? That didn't stop you. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't stop to think. I didn't realize they paid you money. Yes, sir, he paid me. And promised there wouldn't be the slightest danger. And you fell for that? After all, sir, I thought he should know. He was a policeman himself. A policeman himself? Yes, sir. Who did it? Who was it? Who bribed you to testify against Mr. Dooley? Answer me. Answer me. It was Detective Reynolds. Detective Walsh Reynolds. If he had said Methuselah or A Man from Mars, I couldn't have been more surprised. Then I went into action to Dooley. I gave my gun and told him to lie low in the mansion and keep Schindler prisoner. Then I went out and found a phone booth. The desk sergeant on night duty told me I could probably find Reynolds in his rooms at 64 Dawson street and as a matter of fact, I did. The door was open and I walked in. He was sitting at a desk in the glare of a reading lamp. I want to talk a few things over with you, Reynolds. You remember the morning after Willie Dooley was arrested. Don't sit there looking at me like that. Answer my question. Reynolds, I put pushed him, and he'd gone over, toppling like a rag doll. And for the first time, I saw the shaft of a knife protruding from between the pleats of his shirt front. He was dead, Detective Reynolds was. And dead by murder. I phoned headquarters then and took a look around. The look netted me two observations. One, the room was topsy turvy, and I had the feeling that somebody had given it a going over and the last few hours. Two, in the desk drawer, I found a stack of canceled checks in the amount of $49,500. Then I added it to the 500 I'd found in Irma Dooley's hand. Got a quick total of 50,000, and the light broke over me. Grabbing a cigar box off the desktop, I took a cab for the Jansen place. Dooley was just as I'd left him, holding a gun on the pale and shaken butler, Anton Schindler. You. You found Reynolds, sir? What kind of a question is that, Schindler? He's a shrewd one, sir. You know I found him. And you know how I found him. What do you mean, sir? Okay, I'll make a formal announcement. Detective Reynolds is dead. Dead of what? Of a knife in his chest. You can save the act, Jeeves. I know the whole truth now. It was you who murdered Irma Dooley earlier in the evening. You must be mad. Not very. For once, it turns out to be the truth. The butler did it. Why? Why on earth should I have killed Mrs. Dooley? Why? Because she knew about the frame. And you were afraid she'd reveal all to her husband here. No, no. Believe me, you're wrong. And you made your way to Reynolds room and did him. Mr. Sharp, sir. Peter, if you want a reason for that, you can have it, too. You Knew where the $50,000 was that was stolen from Jansen's safe. It was in Reynolds possession, and you needed money to leave town on. But no, sir. But yes, sir. You searched his rooms for it like a wild man. The place is a shambles. But you failed to find the prize, Schindler. You should have taken your time like I did. Mr. Sharp. Yes, Dooley? You. You. You mean you found it? Yes. Here it is in this cigar box. Must have been a good hiding place because everybody overlooked it. Is. Is it all there? $50,000 in negotiable bonds. Mr. Sharp, sir. Yes, Dooley? I'll take that cigar box now. How's that Dooley. You've got the cigar box and I've got your gun. So give me that money of mine or I'll put a bullet in you with your gun. Money of yours. I think you heard what I said. How's it yours? By right of theft. Duly. I don't go for big words, but I kill easy. Yes, so I've noticed. You killed Irma Easy. But then you don't think that I know you didn't kill her. Schindler. It turns out that Mr. Dooley here was the burglar after all. He entrusted the bonds to his wife to hold for him, but she wasn't to be trusted. And she double crossed him with the aid of a swine named Reynolds. I said I'd take that cigar box, mister. He came out of prison tonight. And because he'd gotten wind of her affair with the cop, he killed her. Then he went to the cop's house, killed him and looked for the bonds. But he found nothing. Nothing but trouble. Not too much. Give me that box. Here. Take it. You're welcome to it, Dooley. It's all yours and it's all I want. A lot of money and you get through life no money and you wind up in the carousel. Listen to the jabber of a bunch of kids and going out of your mind. What about kids? For eight months I was stuck in that job with brats in my hair and brats underfoot. How are you, Mr. Dooley? Mr. Dooley. How do you do? I thought you liked kids. That I believed at least. Oh, yeah, did, did you? Well, I hate em. Every one of em. Every single soul of em breath and body. That's why I stole this. To get away from that jump. To get far away. Mr. Dooley. Yes? You won't get far on what's in that cigar box. Why not open it. Open it. Go ahead. You liar. You dirty liar. It's empty. It's empty. That was a trick. Call it a strategy. I knew you'd come out in the open if you thought I had the 50 grand. Where is it? Where's all that? My money spent, Mr. Dooley. Spent long ago. I. I don't like your laugh, Mr. Sharp. And you ain't safe. You think you might be? I'm a little sore now. And I've got a gun to use. Look out, Mr. Sharp. Stand still. Everybody's had their laugh with little Mr. Dooley. Little Mr. Dooley. And then little Mr. Dooley aims a gun and pulls the trigger. And little Misty Dooley's bigger than all of them. You can hand it over now, Dooley. I wouldn't give an escaping convict a loaded gun. And I figured an empty one would serve to keep Mr. Schindler in his place. Come on now. The game's over. Let's go. I took him down to headquarters and had him booked for murder. Then I went home. Across the sleeping town. I thought about Debbie and Josh. And how when they were older, I'd tell them why Mr. Dooley never came back. And all about the little man. All except one thing. I'd never tell them that he didn't love them. No, not that. Not ever. The National Broadcasting Company has presented the adventures of the Big Guy, played by Henry Calvin. Joshua Sharp, detective, works for his clients on a strictly cash basis to provide for the needs of his nearest and dearest, Josh Jr. And Debbie. To them, he's the friendly magician, the fabulous hero, the giant among giants, the Big Guy. The National Broadcasting Company has presented the first in the new series of adventures. The Big Guy, played by Henry Calvin. Featuring David Anderson as Josh Jr. And Denise Alexander as Debbie. The script was written by Peter Barry and directed by Thomas Madigan. The music was by George Wright. Others in the cast were Joan Alexander, Roy Fant and Everett Sloan. Your announcer, Fred Collins. Tonight, hear Phil Harris, Sam Spade and Petticoat Fever on NBC. Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road. Those who travel it wind up in the gutter. The prison of the grave. There's no other end, but they never learn. Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. The refreshing, delicious treat that gives you chewing enjoyment presents for your listening enjoyment Raymond Chandler's most famous character in the Adventures of Philip Marlow. To make every day more enjoyable, treat yourself often to refreshing, delicious Wrigley Spearman Chewing Gum. Here's a taste treat you can enjoy indoors, outdoors, at work or at play. The cool, long lasting mint flavor refreshes you. The smooth, steady chewing helps keep you fresh and alert. Adds enjoyment to whatever you're doing. Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. Healthful, refreshing, delicious. Now, with Gerald Moore starred as Philip Marlowe, the makers of Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum are glad to bring you tonight's transcribed story. The Last Wish. Flight seven from Dallas, Texas, now arriving Gate four. Flight seven. Here we are, sir. Just coffee still. Thanks. Can't you want to running me, huh? Pie, cake, sandwich? No, honey, just coffee. Nothing else. Oh, wait a minute. Make another coffee, will you? Sure. Oh, Lieutenant Matthews, over here. Oh, hi, Phil. Hi. Sit Down. I just ordered some coffee for you. Oh, that's wonderful, Marlow. Now that the niceties are over. Where is he? He's around, Matthews. Where around? Marlow. Look, why all the hocus pocus when you call? You told me to get over the airport here in a hurry. You said you had him. I do. Also, I've got a story. Well, that can keep till we get to headquarters. No, it can't keep, Lieutenant. It's. It can't keep any longer than that, Lieutenant. I don't follow. Your mom. A guy the law wants in a cozy selling a plane, going to New York. Where's the connection? That's the story, lieutenant. We got 20 minutes before that plane takes off. Yeah. Have your coffee. Anything else? No. All right, Marlow, let's have it. But make it snappy. I can't make it snappy, Matthews. It's not that kind of a story. Not parts of it, anyway. All right, Phil, do it your way. Well, it began early this Evening, Lieutenant, about 5:30, when I got a call from a doctor in my neighborhood. A nice elderly guy named Sam Talman, who once took a bullet out of my shoulder. Oh, I remember. Yeah. Yeah. Well, he wanted me to come over to his office right away. Matthews. He was excited, but not for himself. Excited for a patient. An old man who was dying. When I got to his place, the kind of old fashioned doctor's office where the drab horsehair furniture sort of gets mixed up with the shiny new X ray equipment. He met me at the front door. He's inside with my nurse, Phil, and he's going fast. You've got to be quick. Now, what did I tell you on the phone? Well, almost nothing, Doc. Just that he's old. Yes. 70, Phil. Maybe more. Anyhow, his name's Schiller. Jacob Schiller. He's a good friend of mine from San Francisco. And he was on his way to Israel, to Tel Aviv. Oh, it was his life ambition. Sit down, Phil. He's not gonna make it, Doc. Not a chance. It's his heart. He had an attack this afternoon. I can't even move him out of here. He's through. A little too soon. He wanted to go to the new country, is that it? Yes. A pioneer is measured by his spirit, not his years, he said. Anyhow, Phil, he came down here to see his son, for he caught a plane tonight for New York and the first leg of the trip to Israel. And that's where you come in. I don't know where Jack Schiller is. Jack's his boy's name. But the old man would like to see him once more. It's his last wish. He knows he hasn't much time left. Well, why me, Doc? Why not the police? Well, I didn't think. I mean, Phil, the kid doesn't sit so well with the law, huh? I'm afraid not. Excuse me. Sure. Dr. Talman. Hello. Oh. Oh, yes, Mrs. Caller. Yes. One every three hours, like it says on the bottle. Yes. Goodbye, Mrs. Caller. Where was I, Phil? Jack Schiller and the law. The reason they don't get along. Oh, well, you see, Phil, Jack came down here to LA about three months ago. And as his father's old friend, he looked me up. So we had him over for dinner a couple of times. But pretty soon he started coming less and less. And when he did, it was a different Jack Schiller. Smart, flashy, clothes, a new way of talking. You know, big shot kind of talking. Yeah, I know the police are dumb and there's easy money to be made. That kind of talking. And he never would say what his business was, if he had any. But believe me, Marlow, whatever it was, it wasn't too much on the up and up. And there was some kind of a girl mixed in. There always is. What's Jack Schiller look like, Doc? Look like? Yeah. Oh, yes. Here, Phil. A picture we took of him when he first came to the house. A barbecue we were having. He's about 30 years old. Kind of good looking, huh? Maybe too good looking, Phil. Maybe that's the trouble. Anyhow, for Jacob's sake, Phil, for my old friend, do you think you can find him? Well, that depends, Doc. What else do you know? Like last address, friend's name, favorite bar. That's the kind of information that counts. I was afraid it would be like that, Phil. I never did know his address. Oh, yeah, but, Doc, there's gotta be someplace I can start. One thing, Phil. What? Twice or maybe three times, I saw him going to a fancy apartment house on Wilshire Boulevard. The Sherry Towers. Sherry Towers. I passed it late at night coming from the clinic. I didn't bother stopping to call him. I. Well, you know, Phil, if he wanted no part of me, I wanted no part of him. And I wouldn't care about him now either, but for Jacob. Jacob's been a good man, Phil. Always Phil. He'll try. Yeah, sure, Doc. I'll try. Doc Tallman smiled his thanks without moving his lips, turned and shuffled toward a room behind him. When he opened the door, I caught a glimpse of A lot of cylinders and tubes and gadgets I didn't understand. And something I did understand a little. The almost peaceful face of an almost peaceful old man who was dying. I. I didn't try to see anymore. There wasn't time to waste. I suddenly wanted to get started in a big hurry. The Sherry Towers on Wilshire was made out of plaster, glass, brick and acute angles. And it was anybody's guess what held it all together. The only person in the plush lobby was a tall man with a red turkey neck who had a toothpick and a cigarette jammed in one corner of his. I walked over to the receptionist. Yes, that's right. Mr. Lederman's car at 9. Mr. Kelly's at 9. 30. Washed and gas. That's it, Steve. Goodbye. Oh, yes, sir. Can I help you? I hope so. I'm looking for Jack Schiller. I'm an old friend of his from out of town. I tried his place and a neighbor said I might find him here. The neighbor was right. But you're early. Ms. Grant isn't through at the club until 10 at least. Ms. Grant? Mm. Peggy Grant. She sings at the Crown Club. She's the one who lives here. Didn't the neighbor tell you that too? Yeah, but the way he said it, I thought he was kidding. You are from out of town, aren't you? Yeah, Pitchfork Corners. Well, good night, ma' am. Good night. Look for you later, Mr. Pitchfork. Oh, you big city. Slick of you, huh? Yeah. Pardon me for butting in, but I couldn't help overhearing you. I can tell you something about your friend Jack Schiller. All right, start telling. Well, let's step outside. I'd rather only you heard it. Oh, sure thing. So you know Jack, do you? Yeah, buddy of mine. That's why I think I ought to tell you. It's a bad night. For what? For old friends to bother him. Rube, he's busy. Oh. The roll of nickels that Turkey Neck must have had clenched in his palm folded me fast. By the time I climbed back onto a pair of wobbly knees, he was across the street into an alley and gone. But I cheered myself up at the thought that it was better this way. After all, with Turkey Neck coming out on top. I was only a friend of Schiller's from the state, so nobody had to worry about that Thought helped, all right. Helped everything. From the blood that trickled out of my mouth right down to the side. I hoped it would stop by the time I got to the Crown Club. Good evening. A Table for one, sir? No, thanks. I think I'll watch from the bar. Oh, tell me, Captain, does Ross Holland still run this club? Oh, yes, sir. You're a friend of Mr. Holland's? An acquaintance. Oh. Well, in that case, I. I must insist. A table, Andre Hen. Table for one, Vitm. This way, sir. The shunters will be on in a moment. You cannot see as well from the bar. Uhhuh. Thanks. I did want to catch her a number. This way, sir. Sir, there is something wrong? Oh, no. I just changed my mind, Skipper. I think I'll go to the bar after all. It was Jack Schiller, no doubt about it, at a corner booth just beyond the bar and huddled close to a girl who was almost dressed in something strapless and spangled, and who matched the display poster I just seen in the lobby labeled Peggy Grant. I ordered a drink at the bar and then walked it over to a celebrity picture gallery on the wall near them and listened to Schiller, all smiles. To the unhappy end of Mr. George Mancini's squeeze play and to your letters back, safe and sound in the lily white hands that wrote them. Hey, sweet, you're supposed to drink a toast, not stare it down. Baby. What is it, Jack? I. I'm worried. I do want everything to go right. Why? If you don't go, get those letters from Mancini. Everything I worked so hard I couldn't catch it all. But it was easy to fit together. Peggy Grant, who was now going up fast as a vocalist, had once been in love with and under the personal management of George Munchy, a preserved and alcohol combination Asian producer, was now going down even faster. And although she had never had a contract with Mancini beyond an oral agreement, her old love letters included enough business Mancini to drag them into court where they could stand up in lieu of a written contract and thus net brother MANCINI the customary 10% of Peggy's earnings and to say so about future engagements that neither of them wanted. I haven't spent all this time cleaning, cultivating Mr. Mancini at his lair on top of Sweetser Drive for fun, you know. Believe me, doll, we're in. Honest. All right, Jack. If you say so, darling. But Will you know the letters? I know. Love letters. Forget it, angel. I won't even open them. They belong to a long time ago and I'm not interested. Now you go on out there and sing for your supper. I knew that once Sheila left the club, he was going to be busy. So as they started to tear themselves away from each other, I figured it was the right time for me to step in. What I didn't figure on was Ross Holland, the king of the Crown Club, standing at my elbow. Hello, Marlow. Pretty picture, isn't it? Yeah, if you like angenos with bags under their eyes. I wasn't talking about the one on the wall, Detective. I meant Peggy. You were staring, remember? I do. Your move, Harlan. Take the chip off your shoulder, Phil. I don't mind if you stare. Yeah, she gets paid for. But you pay. Sure. But also I pay the waiters, the doorman and so on. That. That was all you were doing, wasn't it? I mean, staring, window, shopping. I'd hate to think you were here on business. Oh, sensitive, aren't you? You know, Marlow, I've piled up a lot of enemies. Wrecking in the blue chips. That figures. What are you getting at, Harlan? A job I think you might fit. Oh, let's try if you can spare the time. Can you, Phil? Sure, sure. I've got nothing but time, Ross. Let's go. As I trailed Holland out of the bar as far as an unmarked heavy oak door, I caught a glimpse of Jack Schiller picking up his hat and coat at the entrance. Operation Mancini was underway. Now, I never get these keys straight, Marlowe. Round key on top, square one on the bottom. You'd think I'd remember that, huh? Yeah. Switch to a revolving door. Oh, well, I like my privacy. So do my boys. Now, go on in. Make yourself comfortable. I'll get a couple of drinks going. As I moved into the vault, Holland called home, one thought alone stood out in my mind. Every second that mine host wasted was a second that old Jacob Schiller couldn't afford to lose. But finally, when I was just about ready to skip playing it close and take off, Holland came to the point. His proposition that I go to work for his enemies, play spy and get paid for both parties that I needed. Like a weekend in a leaky submarine. Well, that's it, Marlow. Yes or no? Yes and no, Ross. I'd like to sleep on it. Fair enough. Fair enough. Good night, Phil. Get to bed early, huh? It was all the cue I needed. I bum joked my way out of his office, hurried through the club to the street, then ran for my car and pointed it to the top of Sweetser Drive in the Hollywood Hills and the Schiller George Mancini rendezvous. I couldn't afford to miss the place, which turned out to be bilious green walls under a shocking pink roof stood out in that conservative Neighborhood like a black panther in a snowbank. There was a car parked nearby and the name on the owner's certificate wrapped around the steering wheel was Jack Shell, which was no surprise. So when I knocked, I used the barrel of my.38. That was smart of me. But it would have been smarter if I pointed it the other way. Behind me. Don't move an inch, mister. Oh, fine. And drop your gun right where you stand. Go on. Now turn around and answer up real fast. What do you want with George macchini? Nothing. It's you. I. Hey, that blood all over you. What happened in there? Shilla? You didn't kill him for those lousy letters in that envelope under your arm, did you? Well, is that it? No, not quite, mister. He isn't dead. What do you know about me? How come you know my name? Cops. Never mind. Just back off. Mr. Fast, open that door. Go on. Screaming must have disturbed the neighbors. Listen, Sheila, I'm working for Dr. Tomak. Stay shut or you'll wish you had. Now go on, get in there with him. To make every day more enjoyable, treat yourself often to refreshing, delicious Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum. The lively, full bodied, real mint flavor cools your mouth, moistens your throat, freshens your taste. And the chewing itself gives you a little lift, helps you keep going at your best. So for real chewing enjoyment, that's refreshing and long lasting, always keep Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum handy. Healthful, delicious Wrigley Spearmint Gum will make every day more enjoyable. Now with our star, Gerald Moore, the second act of Philip Marlowe, and tonight's exciting story, the Last Wish. It only took one look at the unconscious pulp on the floor inside to tell me that George Mancini had tried hard to hang onto the letters. Almost too hard. I rolled him over. He was as limp as a slice of raw bacon. But still alive. I just got his shirt collar loosened up when the door behind me opened again. Easy, partner. Marlow. Hello, Matthews. Little early for a lieutenant from homicide. How come they sent you? They didn't. Becker and I were driving by when a call came out over the radio. One of the neighbors out here heard something and phoned in. Who is he, Mallow? A guy named George Mancini. Uh huh. Becca, see what you can do for him. Okay, Lieutenant. Looks like he soaked up a lot of punishment. He did, but not from me. Matthews. Oh, no. What were you, Marlow? Referee. Who did it? It was over when I got here. The guy who did it didn't give me much time to talk. He had a gun. All of which still doesn't answer my question. I don't know his name. His occupation is loving a blonde. Is that why you're here? The blonde? Yeah, more or less. She was afraid of Mancini. Ads and letters. Letters, huh? Which are long gone now. No doubt, no doubt. What's the blonde's name? Lieutenant, I think we better have an ambulance. This guy a long ways out. Okay. Take care of it, Becca. Yeah. Okay. Well, Marlowe. Now, look, Matthews. Nothing's actually happened so far but this beating. And it's probably well deserved, but the situation's touchy. Girls worried silly if a name gets mixed up in a thing like this. All right, all right. Now listen to me. I want the guy who dished up this mess. Either that or the whole story down at headquarters. Now, which? Okay, you'll have him. But just give me a little time alone and I'll deliver him on a platter, I promise. Oh, come on. It means a lot to me, Matthews. Okay, Marlow. Just see this doesn't blow up in your kisser. And don't get lost. Understand? Outside, after I found my gun, I climbed into my car and headed for Peggy Grant's lush apartment house again. When I got there, I parked away from the place and skirted the front entrance. I was sure that by now the pretty face of the switchboard would be well primed for a tip. Off I went along the side of the building toward the service entrance. At the back, the glow of a match in the shadows in an alcove stopped me. It was the turkey neck, Jack Schiller's quick fisted helpmate. Lighting a cigarette, I eased my.38 out and moved toward him. When he finally heard me, he turned. Hey. But by then he was looking right down the muzzle of my gun. Easy now. Easy, chum. Still soul. It's a bad night for seeing old friends, chum. You got me nailed down, brother. You don't have to take my word for nothing. But listen, whatever your angle is, let it rest. Leave the kid alone for a while. Otherwise you're due for nothing but trouble in large doses. You're kidding. Yeah, you bet I'm always kidding. You got more nerve than brains, buster. You can't pull that swipe. Go fry your ears. You're making a clot on the skull. Almost fun. Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute. All that stuff spilled on the walk there. It fell out of your pocket, didn't it? Didn't it? So what? So you don't have to say another word, Watchdog. I'm beginning to get the whole thing all by myself. Sure. What's more, you yellow jerk, I don't like it. The two small items I'd just seen on the walk made swinging the flat side of my gun butt against his head a distinct pleasure. They also made getting in the service door and up the stairs two at a time to Peggy Grant's apartment a definite gratification. Because now I had a jim dandy hunch on exactly what to expect. Come on, princess, open up. Who are you? A cop. Expecting cops, Ms. Grant? Not exactly. The milkman doesn't carry a gun, and my friends all use the front door. I'm the informal type. Where's Jack Schiller? Right behind you, mister. Again. This time, lay your gun on the table. Go on. Sure, sure. You're slightly better than the guy downstairs. I got by him with no trouble at all. What's that? What guy? Why, you mean Peggy didn't tell you about the Watchdog? What is this? Go ahead, Princess, Tell him about the Turkey neck character with orders to keep everybody away while Jack makes a fool of himself. Darling, get this idiot out of here. This is a trick. Why not also tell him who your real boyfriend is, baby? Why, you lousy fellow. You should have learned a little from what happened to that skunk Mancini. Now go on back to him and tell him if he tries anything else like this, I'll go over him again right from the beginning. My, my, aren't we spunky tonight? Now look, Shirley, I want you to listen, and I haven't got all night. There's a guy downstairs who was sent out to see that nobody interfered while you played perfect pigeon. It was you who risked getting plugged when you went in after those letters. Once you were sucker enough not to read. Now it's you who's in a big jam with the police. And what's more, I found out that that guy is one of Ross Harland's boys. You liar. Get out of here. Oh, Jack, make him go away, please. Wait a minute. What's Rolf Harlan got to do with this? Nothing. Nothing, Hal. A ten to one those letters were written by Harlan, not Dreamboat here. And that they set him up for a squeeze and have nothing whatever to do with her dubious career as a singer. You got any sense she'll read one. Jack, you gave me your word. Oh, don't be a child, darling. Can't you see what he's trying to do to it? Just take one look at one signature. Jackson, if I'm wrong, you can Split my other lip. No, Jack. Don't get the letters, Peggy. At least I'm gonna know who wrote them. All right. If that's the way you want it, Jack, that's the way it'll be. Jack. Right on either one of you. Drop it. Jack. I mean it. Peggy. Peggy, what are you doing? Drop that gun. Well, mister, you sure wrecked a lovely setup. Why, I don't know, but it won't do you any good. I'm leaving and I'm taking these letters with me. And it's true what he said? Of course it's true. All of it. These letters were written by Ross Harlan back when Mancini was his partner. And they're loaded with them. Mancini could cut himself in for half of every cent Ross had. And Ross couldn't trust anyone but me to get them back for him. Stay where you are. Don't feel too bad, Jackie boy. You have to live to learn. Maybe you won't be a dope all your life. Hey, you better go. Oh, shut up. You were right. So you made your point. Now whatever your reason was, get it out of here and leave me alone. Oh, no. I haven't been monkeying in your corny affairs just for laughs. Sonny. I was hired to find you by Doc Tolman. Doc Tallman? Oh, that nosy old goat. Why, your father's in town. He's had a heart attack. A bad one. My father? Yeah, he wants to see you. I told Doc Tomon I'd bring you back and that's what I'm gonna do, regardless. Now get going. Oh, Phil. Come in. I finally got Jack. Doc. Here he is. Hello, Doctor. Where's my father? Back in the bedroom. I'll go right in and see him. Jack. What? What is it? What's the matter? Jack, your father's dead. He passed away 20 minutes ago. Oh, I'm sorry, Doc. Dad. Oh, Pop. Pop. Here, my boy. Sit down. 20 minutes. Just about the time it took to beat a chiseler out of a bunch of letters and argue with a cheap two timing blonde. Try to get hold of yourself, my boy. We knew you'd have come if you could have. Your father's last thoughts were of you, son. He was very proud of you. Hold on, Doc, please. I'll run along, Doc. I got a phone call to make. Oh, wait a minute, Marlow. You can't leave thinking like you do. Not now with Pop dead. I. I don't know what happened to me these last few weeks. I can't understand how I got in so deep. She had Me, I guess I'd have done anything she asked. You're not the first guy that's happened to. I doubt that she'll be the last. Yeah, but I've got to square myself now. I've got to. And I want to start with the police. You really mean that? I never meant anything more in my life. I'm not really a wise guy. Honest. What's this about the police? I'm in a jam, Dr. Tallman. A pretty bad one. Because you got too much nerve and too much energy. All you need is the right place to spend them. That gives me an idea. Is Jack your real name? No, it's really Yakob, like my old man's. Oh, Doc, where's that plane reservation for Jacob Schiller? Here. I have it right here. Wait a minute. You mean. Yeah, yeah. You're catching that plane. With luck, you may make it all the way. Oh, but you're letting me go, Marlow. You'll be in a jam yourself. Well, I think I know a pair of strong shoulders I can dump the responsibility onto. Go, kid. Flight 17 to New York now loading at gate five. Well, that's the story to hear, Matthews. Just whose shoulders did you have in mind in that responsibility business? You're wearing him, you lug. Oh, give me that napkin, will you? Yeah, yeah. Hey, just tell me something else to make it all nice and tight. That turkey neck character. How did you know he worked for Ross? Harlem? Oh, well, when I slugged him in back of Peggy Grant's apartment house, a lot of junk fell out of his pocket, including a pair of keys on a chain. One had a round head, the other one was square. Oh, duplicates of that. Set that open. Harlan's double locked office, huh? Uh huh. Tight enough, Lieutenant? Tight enough. Last call for Flight 17 to New York, now loading at Gate 5. They. They just called a. A New York flight, Bill. Yeah. Last call. Yeah. You know, I. I hear they're doing great things over there in Israel. Yeah, building farms right out of the desert, like that kind of stuff. That's right. They. They can use all the help they can get. I understand. I was raised on a farm. Did you know. Keeps you so busy you don't have time to get in trouble. Hey, Malo, sit down. I'll buy you another cup of coffee. Thanks, Lieutenant. Thanks a lot. We watched the plane take off swinging heavy, thundering grace and head east. I guess we were both thinking the same thing. Two Jacob Schillers were on their way to the fulfillment of a promise. The old and the new Promised Land. Remember, friends, to make every day more enjoyable, treat yourself often to refreshing, delicious Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum. There's lots of cooling, real mint flavor in every stick and chewing Wrigley Spearmint helps keep you feeling fresh and alert. You feel better, work better, get more fun out of doing things. So indoors, outdoors, wherever you go, keep some healthful, refreshing, wriggly Spearmint Chewing Gum handy. To make every day more enjoyable, treat yourself often to delicious Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. The Adventures of Philip Marlowe presented by Wrigley's Spearmint Gum bring you Raymond Chandler's most famous character and star, Gerald Moore. Philip Marlowe is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald and written for radio by Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt. Featured in the transcribed cast were Jack Edwards, June Foray, Larry Dobkin, Harold Direnforth, Jack Crucian, Lynn Allen and Stan Waxman. The special music is composed and conducted by Richard Arant, the makers of Wrigley's Spearman Chewing Gum. Hope you've enjoyed tonight's adventure of Philip Marlow and that you're enjoying Wrigley's Spearmint Gum every day. Next week. Philip Marlow will be heard on Friday evening. So we invite you to be with us next week on Friday when Philip Marlow says, this time I found an old friend in the morgue, watched a man with a burned hand die in a quiet garden, and listened to a pathetic killer give up all because a little glass donkey came to town. This is Bob Stevenson speaking and this is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. We just heard Ellery Queen, Let George do it, the Big Guy and the Adventures of Philip Marlowe. That will do it for this week's show. Thanks so much for joining me. I hope you'll be back next week for more Old Time Radio Detectives. In the meantime, you can check out Stars on Suspense, my other Old Time Radio podcast. New episodes of that show are out on Thursdays. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show on Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com Meansts OTR I'll be back next week with more Old Time Radio Detectives. But until then, good night and happy listening. Now here is our star, Vincent Price. Ladies and gentlemen, In a prejudice filled America, no one would be secure in his job, his business, his church or his home. Yet racial and religious antagonisms are exploited daily by quacks and adventurers whose followers make up the irresponsible lunatic fringe of American life. Refused to listen to or spread rumors against any race or religion. Help to stamp out prejudice in our country. Let's judge our neighbors by the character of their lives alone and not on the basis of their religion or origin.