Vincent Price (as The Saint) (12:05)
o'. Brien. O'. Brien. Competition. Getting worse all the time. Call the doctor. No, no, no. Thanks, laddie. Lay lay off this frolic. He'll get you next. You're gonna die, mister. You're gonna. Bran. Bran. The old man's car. What? Well, I guess I'll have to try another angle. This one's pretty dead. I awakened Mr. Ritchie as you requested, Mr. Templar. He'll be right down. Oh, thank you. I hope the fire isn't too serious. Well, it's serious enough to awaken Mr. Ritchie. Oh. Oh, here he is now, sir. Well? Well, which plant is the fire in? Who's responsible? How big is the damage? Oh, the fire isn't in any plant, Mr. Ritchie. What's that, then? Where is it? It's inside of me. I'm burning up, and I need your help. How dare you sneak your way in here three o' clock in the morning by telling me there's a fire? Look here. Who are you? Simon Templar. Oh, yes, the saint. I've heard of you. If you have business with me, Mr. Templar, I suggest you phone my secretary for an appointment. Meanwhile, there's no subject on earth can keep me from going back to bed. Not even the subject of $400,000, Mr. Ritchie. What do you know about it? Nothing, other than that it was stolen from you, Mr. Ritchie, that happened seven years ago. The criminal, John Quailey, was caught, tried and convicted. Now, if you'll pardon me. Quealy worked for you, I believe. He was my head accountant. And the money was never found? No. Queli drew 20 years in the penitentiary. He never revealed where the money was hidden until the day he died. Died? Yes, two weeks ago in prison. And now, Mr. Temploon, if you don't mind, I need my rest. I won't detain you much longer, Mr. Ritchie. Just one or two more questions. Well, did Quailey have a wife? Yes, he did. If he knew he were dying in prison, it's quite possible he made an attempt to get word to her, to tell her where the money was hidden. He may have made the attempt, but he couldn't possibly have succeeded. He was too closely watched. After all, $400,000 is a lot of money. A lot of money? Yes. You could almost buy a secondhand car with it. If I hadn't been fully covered by insurance, my firm would have gone under in the face of a loss that large. And now, Mr. Templer, if I might ask a question? Certainly. Why this sudden urgency, this three o' clock in the morning business? An old man was tortured to death. Then a fellow named o', Brien, who came calling on the old man, was shot to death. But before he was killed, O' Brien told me he was tracking down $400,000 that had been stolen. I see. The irons. I'm checking back over. How many people have ever had that amount stuck, Stolen from. Led you to me? Yes. I wonder what I've led you to, Mr. Templer. I wonder. Mr. Richie. I wonder. Yes, what is it, Mrs. Quailey? What do you want? Several things, Mrs. Quailey. Like what? A murderer. You've got the wrong apartment, mister. An old automobile. No sale. Anything else? Maybe you'll buy this, Mrs. Quailing. Collins was murdered a little while ago. Collins? Oh, the old man. Why? Someone wanted his car. Someone who evidently couldn't wait any longer for the newer model. So? So I saw Collins car in your garage, Mrs. Quail. Maybe you better come in after all, mister. Come in. Careful. Careful enough. Keep those hands high. I don't like you, mistress. You're knitting together a frame and you're trying to put my picture into it. Collins sold me that car. When? Tonight. I could have bought a Cadillac for cheaper, mister, but I wasn't in any position to haggle. Yes, I know. What do you know? That's what I want to find out. I know that Collins car is. A car is worth about $20. But it's something else. It's worth in the neighborhood of $400,000. And you know, that's an awfully nice neighborhood. Nice and exclusive. Chiselers aren't invited to move in. I've been gathering that impression all evening. Well, what have we here? You name it. An acetylene torch, welder's mask, a few chisels, a hammer, steel wire. Either you've gone to work for Henry Kaiser, or the hand that customarily rocks the cradle is going in for rocking a safe. I had to go into a hardware store to make a phone call, and I just couldn't leave without buying a few things. How fortunate you didn't make your call in an establishment that sell steamrollers. I see you have a set of license plates. You See? Too much from Collins jalopy. Aren't they? These license plates? So that's how Quaily smuggled out his message. You're getting awfully close to a bullet in your head, mister. Give me those plates. There should be someone at the door. Stay where you are. I'll see you with it. Better not take the license plates with you. Yes, this is Quaily. Hello. This is the devil. The devil. He. He got the planes? Yes, yes, he got them. Don't let him. Oh, catch him there. Where? Where, Johnny? Work shaft. Top worth it. This is Qualy, Collins o'. Brien. And now. Now I have three reasons for wanting to meet a certain party. Tax. Hey. Hey. Taxi. Taxi. They don't stop sometimes when it's so early in the morning, Saint, because they're on the way back to the garage. Well, what brings you out so early, Mac? Looking for a drunk to roll? Just looking for you, Saint. Just looking for you. See here what I got in my hand? Oh, there goes that coy streak in you again, Mac. All right, so it's a gun. Well, what does he want me to do? Come, go, turn hamstrings, quote Shelley, play the bassoon? You have to speak for it, Mac. Very funny. Look out. It shouldn't speak for itself, Saint. I and the gun warn you should get in that there car. And you have a most persuasive way of offering a fellow a lift, Mack. Yeah, yeah, lift. Right now it's a lift. Later on, it may grow into a ride. Come on. Where are we going, Mac? Back to our little gray home in the rear of the pool room, Saint. Fancy Dan Turner wants he should thank you for showing him a new trick. Oh, it really isn't necessary. He feels like it is, Saint. He feels like it is. He's got a couple of tricks he wants to show you. Sounds like fun. Into the cart. Turn is waiting. He's got very little patience. Nice to have you back with this, Saint. I missed you. From the looks of that bandage on your skull, Turner, I'll bet you wished I'd missed you. Not now, I don't, Saint. It's a nice feeling having you here, knowing that I owe you something. I pay my debt, Saint. I pay off. Yes, I know. O' Brien was paid off. So was Mrs. Qualy. Paid off with lead checks. They're dead. Oh, now, save that innocent expression for the jury to. You'll need everything you've got. When were they killed, Saint? Okay, I'll stooge for you. They were killed an hour or two After I so abruptly left you before. Oh, well, I'll have to find another pigeon, Saint. My alibi's fat. How fat, Turner? City Hospital having, remember the saint embroidered where a cue stick hit me. And Smitty and Mac were there too, to see me through it. Hospitals have records, Saint. We're clean. We're clean. Then you've got a competitor you don't know about, Turner. Yeah, looks that way. For a job that was supposed to be as simple as this one, I got too many competitors. Wonder how come who fingered the job for you, Turner? Who told you? Quealy got word out to his wife about where the money was. I got nothing for you, Saint. Smitty, wasn't it? Smitty just finished a stretch up the creek. My guess is he ran into Quale. Maybe shared a cell with him. No, within the jail hospital. They met. Smitty worked there. Quaily was dying off his nut. Smitty made him talk. Yeah, and Smitty, not being mentally suited for solo work, spilled the pitch to you, Turner. For a price, of course. For money on the line. Yeah. 10 GS to buy in on a 400,000 job. Well, what are you driving at? What are you picking Smitty's bones for? I was just wondering, Turner, how much o' Brien paid Smitty for his slice of this extra exclusive information. And how much your other competitors shelled out the one who happily goes around killing people. What do you mean? Yes. Me. Turner, your pal Smitty is the sort of rat that even rats on rats. He sold Quailey's secret three times that we know of. Thanks for a handicapping it for me, Saint. If you're really grateful, Turner, you can return the favor by telling me. What time is it? It's 5:15 in the morning, Saint, but you ain't going nowhere. I have a date to keep. Before 6, Turner. With your competitors? Yes. Ain't that's what you think? Maybe not. Turner, what do you say we play a little pool while we're waiting for the board? Get away from that pool table. I ain't playing any games with you, Saint. Maybe pool was the wrong game. How about a game of pitch and catch? What? Yeah, I pitch like this and you catch it like that. Hate to leave you all by yourself there in the side pocket, but like I said, I have a date to keep. Well, Mr. Ritchie, get enough sleep despite my interruption? I wasn't really asleep when you called on me, Mr. Templer. I know, Mr. Richie. Your hair was a little too carefully combed. For a man who's been suddenly awakened and told he's having a fire. You're very clever, mister. But not clever enough to catch you before you committed three murders. So you're Smitty's silent partner, huh? See what low company's gotten you into, Richie? Yes, I see $400,000 buried in the siding of this elevator shaft. And with the help of this acetylene torch, it'll be all mine. A very ingenious fellow, Quaily. And to think the money never left this building. The place where Johnny worked. Yes, he was ingenious. It was very smart of him to use his prison job making automobile license plates as a means of smuggling out the information to his wife. How did he do it, Richie? Very simple, Templar. There's an extra piece of thin metal in this particular plate forming a sort of pocket. And inside the pocket, a note on cigarette paper telling poor Mrs. Qualy how to get the money. Of course, once he managed to tell her the number of the license plate, well, the rest was easy, wasn't it? Yes. All poor Mrs. Qualy had to do was ask the Motor Vehicle Bureau to whom the plate was assigned. Mr. Collins, in this instance. Poor old fellow. Mr. Templer, would you mind joining me here in the shaft, please? Yes, right on top of the elevator. I'd like to keep an eye on you while I finish burning out this metal partition. You see, I've only until 6 o' clock when this elevator is switched on downstairs. Oh, well, I. Come, come in the shaft, please. Well, really, I. I have a gun, Mr. Templar. Oh, well, that makes it official then. There we are. Careful, Mr. Templar. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. Anything accidental, that is. You know, it's funny. I've known you such a short time and I have exactly the same sentiments towards you. I've never been astride the top of an elevator before, Richie. And we're right near the top of the shaft. Yes. I don't mean to worry you, Templar, but when this elevator power turns on in a few minutes it will rise to the top before it descends. How's your treasure hunt coming, Richie? Almost finished. One last strip of metal to cut away and the partition will come off. Then we'll decide your fate, Mr. Templar. Your future. Here goes. A last blow. It's there. It's there. I see it. $400,000 in currency, Templar. Think of it. Think of it. You think of it, Richie. And also think of how much blood was spilled on it. Preaching, Templar, you. I never thought what's that the elevator, Richie? Maybe it came to work a little early today. My. My money. My money. Come on, Richie. Come on. Get off. No, no. There's still some money left here. I want it. I want it all. All. Come on, we've got to get off. Jump, Richie, jump. No. No. My money. I must save the money. Richie, you fool. All right, I. Yes, Richie, you saved your money. And you saved the state some money, too. I'm sure you didn't plan on saving the cost of your execution. You have been listening to another adventure of the Saint. The Robin Hood of modern crime. Now here is our star, Vincent Price. These immortal words of Ovid, translated from the Latin, express quite well indeed the justice of our Mr. Ritchie's fate. Nor is there any juster law than that the contrivers of death should perish by their own contrivances. This is Vincent Price inviting you to join us again next week at this same time for another exciting adventure of the Saint. Good night. Tonight's script of the Saint was written by Michael Cramway. Our cast included Laureen Tuttle, Barney Phillips, Tony Barrett, Fred Howard and Dan o'. Herlihy. The music was composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman. The Saint is a James L. Sapphire production and was transcribed and directed by Thomas A. McEvity. All you saint fans will be glad to know that the Saint comic books are on sale at all newsstands. Your announcer, Merrill Ross. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System. Tyler redick here from 2311 Racing. Game night's fun until someone spends five minutes lining up one shot. Chalk. Breathe. Rechalk. Still aiming. While they figure it out, I fire up Champa Casino. I can spin anywhere, anytime. And there's always a new social casino game every week. Spins happen way faster than that shot. Play now@chumbacasino.com let's Chumbo. Sponsored by Chumba Casino. No purchase necessary. VGW Group void where prohibited by law. 21/ terms and conditions apply.