Music Standard of California, on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the west, we invite you to let George do it. Music Me, Him, My Experts, another adventure of George Valentine. Personal notice, strangers my stock and trade. If you're coming up for the third time and need somebody's help, call on me, George Valentine. Write full details. Music Thank you Mr. Valentine, I know the exact time of your morning mail, I've checked on that. You'll have a very short time to get to me and keep me from being murdered. Believe me, I have very good reason to be terrified. I can't think of anyone else to help me. Music Anyone else to help me? I'll do my best to make it worth your while. Be sure to come alone, otherwise there's nothing you can do for me. And it's time, Mads Day. Well, we've gotten a few conk-eye letters, Brooksie, but this one belongs in a showcase. We've got a deadline, no less. But suppose the mailman decided to stop off at the drugstore for a couple of cocks? Well, this man seems to have unwavering faith in our postal service. Here, let me see that letter. 426 Duane Street. George, that's a full half hour's drive from here. If you make every light. Sit tight, angel. I'm going to find out what this is all about. Music Abrams 3C Murphy 2D. Here we are, aren't we, Damon? Come on, come on, lady, answer, will you? No use trying to haul a phone, mister. What? Ain't been working for years. Being a janitor, I ought to know. Maybe I ought to think about fixing it one of these days. Well, don't work too hard, Buster. I want to get to 4C. Where's the elevator? Over there. But I may as well warn you, young fella, can't work in... Huh? Another thing I ought to get around to fixing one of these days. Okay, I'll walk. I'm in a hurry. Something fierce the way work piles up on a man's back. Music Careful, mister, wet floor. Oh? And watch out for the pale. Oh, I'm sorry to step over your mother. Which way is 4C? Oh, Miss Damon, uh, right down a few doors. But it ain't going to do you any good. She just left. What's that? Just left, bags and all. There was a dark, tough-looking fella going out with her. She, uh, she didn't happen to mention where she was going, did she? Oh, look out, mister, you don't get slopped with the mob. Oh, okay, mother, okay. But I asked you a question, remember? Well, come to think of it, it happened to remember she said she was going to Union Station. She looked mighty like she was crying. Well, tell me something else. What does this Miss Damon look like? What's she wearing? Oh, she's blonde, in a dark sort of way. Short, but not one of them real sort kind, mind you. She's, uh... Oh, oh, great, great. Well, she was wearing one of them big floppy hats. Oh, she can get away with them too, because, like I said, she's short, but not too short. Yeah, well, thanks, thanks very much. Now I can pick her right out of a crowd. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Oh, Miss Brooks, this is wonderful, wonderful. Valentine called you from the Union Station, huh? Ha, ha, ha, ha. For other, that means she didn't catch why. If you'll stop splitting your sides for a minute, Lieutenant Raleigh, I'd like to know what this is all about. Ha, ha, ha, ha. Well, there's no such woman as Madge Damon. I dictated that letter to my secretary. You certainly can be funny. Ha, ha, ha, ha, sure. What's so brilliant about a stunt like that? Well, he didn't even recognize Sergeant Williams dressed up as a janitor or police woman ferris scrubbing the floors. And I know he's seen them both around headquarters at least a dozen times. Oh, brother. Oh, that's your big sleuth for you. All right, you're a jester and your life is complete. Why don't you give me a hot foot? I won't look. Oh, look, look, you don't get it. All this was merely incidental. I had to get Valentine out of the office this morning. Oh, but wait, honey, wait till you hear my real payoff. Oh, I'm sure it's going to slay me. All right, Miss Brooks, what day is it? Day? Well, it's Monday. I knew it. I knew it. You forgot, you forgot just as he did. Forgot what? It's Valentine's birthday. I checked on it just to make sure. Oh, no. Oh, it can't be. Oh, I've got to get out of here and get him a present. Where's my coat? Relax, honey, relax, relax. This time it's yours truly who's giving Valentine a present. Yeah, how sweet. Yes, sir. Look here, here in this box. A birthday cake? Yes, sir. And in just a few minutes, five, five top-notch mystery writers, all big shots in the field, are going to be here to attend Valentine's surprise birthday party. Mystery writers? Lieutenant, you sound like you're running a fever. No, no, no. I've done them favors in the past, and they're just dying to come along for the fun. After what you did this morning, I'm suspicious of what you consider fun. Ah, come on now, come on. Where's your sense of humor? Look, we're going to stage a phony murder scene. With you as the victim. And I'm betting Valentine is going to fall for it hook, line, and sink it. Pardon me while I laugh. Yes, sir. Look, you see, I'm going to examine this supposed victim and announce that he's dead. And I could just see Valentine going into action without even checking, without even bothering to find out if there's really been a crime. And in front of all those writers too. Oh boy, oh boy. I'm not going to let you do it. What? Oh, now come on, come on, be reasonable. Valentine's put me on a few spots where I didn't look too bright. I need this for my morale. I'll tell you what. I'll make you bet. What kind of a bet? Well, I'll have for you if I lose and a box of cigars for me if I win. All right. Okay, Lieutenant, you're on. Okay. Ha ha. Now we've got work to do. Miss Brooks, I want you to meet Steve Barry. He writes all those hard-boiled detective novels about Dan Flynn, private eye. You mean you write those books about Dan Flynn? Young lady, one doesn't have to look like a thug to understand the psychology of a tough, twisted character. And this, this is Cornelia Williston who writes such wonderful, blood-curdling horror stories. Ha ha. Yes. You should see some of the people I meet in my nightmares. Oh, Bruce. When did the festivities begin, Lieutenant? Well, Valentine is still probably wandering around Union Station, so let's get on with the introductions. This is Ben Forrester, Miss Brooks. He's of the deductive school. He's here to play corpse today. I'll make the liveliest one you ever saw. Don't you think so, Miss Brooks? In your profession, you should at least know what a corpse looks like. This is Sigmund Griemenz. He specializes in scientific crime. Why, he spends more time in our police lab than we do. Thank you, Lieutenant. I admit to the thoroughness, even though some of my colleagues don't. Nothing like being thorough about mayhem. And this is, finally, young Mr. Copeland who believes that every crime has a psychological basis. And that's the way it will always be, as long as crimes are committed by the police. And that's the way it will always be, as long as crimes are committed by human beings. I don't mind suspense, Lieutenant, but I happen to have a dinner party. Yes, where is Mr. Valentine? Well, he'll be along any minute now, Barry. Oh, now look here, Griemenz. You know what you have to do. Yes, I understand it. I pull down the window blind to darken the office like this. Then I turn on the light. Light. Then when Mr. Valentine begins to light the candles on his birthday cake, I flip the lights off. And with a pathetic stifled scream, I crumple to the floor. Oh dear. Murder can be so repetitious, even when you state it. Just one minute and one more thing, Griemenz. I beg your pardon, Mr. Coaster. Don't poison Valentine's cake with one of those exotic venoms you always fall back on in those incredibly dull stories of yours. I may seem a little out of date to a successful best-selling writer like you, but at least I use careful research. I'm not a fraudulent writer. Gentlemen, remember, this is supposed to be a party. Yeah. Cut it out, Griemenz. I don't like people to laugh at my work. If you go through the annals of crime, you'll discover that poison has been used more often. Quiet, everybody. I think I just heard Valentine come in the outside office. I still think I'm going to win that hat. Hey, Brooksie. You know that letter I got this morning? What? Well, did you find Madge Damon? Hey, Brooksie, what is this? Who are all these people? They're death, darling. Your birth is death. As a matter of fact, they're all well-known mystery writers. Never mind, pal. You'll get to know them all later. But tell me something. Tell me, Yip, what about the janitor and the scrub woman? Didn't you recognize Williamson, Mrs. Ferrars? Lieutenant, I got to hand it to you. You had me coming and going. No, for art feelings, huh? Look here. Look, I provided a cake and some refreshments, so come on, let's celebrate. Okay, I'm just in the mood. Go on, George, light the cake. Off with the lights, we met very weird. Oh, this is nice and cozy. Say, I don't even have a match. Here, use my lighter. That's the idea, Swollaston. Hurry up, Valentine. No, you don't. Get away from me. Oh, what was that? What happened? It sounded like Forrest. What's going on here? You green mats, get those lights out. Forrest, what's the matter with him? Why is he lying there like that? Don't stand there, Barry. Help him up. Somebody better get a doctor. Wait a minute, wait a minute. Don't touch him. Let me have a look at him. We'd better get the coroner. What? This man's dead. Lying on his face with a dagger in his chest. Dead? What are you talking about? Who would want to kill Forrest? What are you saying, Lieutenant? Well, what's the matter, Valentine? Aren't you interested? This happened in your office. Oh, I'm quivering like a leaf. I think the only thing that'll calm me down is a piece of cake. What? Tell you stooge to get up, Lieutenant. This whole setup is as crooked as a worm on an apple. Oh, darling, I love you. I get a new mat laid plan for my two men. Your little joke didn't work, Lieutenant. It was too smart for you. When I get taken for a ride in the morning, I try to smarten up come afternoon. Well, don't be such a ham, Forrest. Get up. He always did like holding the center of the stage. Well, maybe I can shake him out of it. Hey, wait a minute. You're not trying to put anything over on me. I'm not kidding. There's no dagger in Forrest's chest. Of course there isn't. Just the same he's been killed. What are you talking about? One practical joke is enough. This is no joke, Booksy. Right now, Mr. Forster is very much dead. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Meanwhile, let's all go back to school for a minute. Read and write in arithmetic? No, sir. A lesson in motor oil from Mrs. Virgie F. Cotner, who teaches school in Phoenix, Arizona. And here's her statement, quote, Why, it's just plain logic that a clean engine will run better and longer than a dirty engine. And that's why I prefer RPM to any other motor oil. I know it's cleaning my car's motor while it's lubricating it, unquote. And folks, that's a lesson worth remembering. For RPM motor oil not only keeps your engine cleaner, it guards against internal rust, fights off corrosion and lacquer. It protects hot spots left bare and exposed to wear by ordinary motor oils. And is there plus and minus about RPM? Yes, the plus is longer mileage, longer engine life, and the minus is fewer repair bills. So to give your car and your pocketbook a break, get an oil drain and refill with RPM motor oil. Get it at independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. You find yourself the victim of a very elaborate and phony birthday joke planned by all people, Lieutenant Riley. It might have been fun, except that the man who was supposed to play dead really died, and right in your office, and in front of four top-notch mystery writers. You know, one of the four had to murder him. You might call it mayhem by experts. In fact, that's what we do call it. Ah, Valentine, why, why do these things happen to me? I don't feel too good either. Like an accessory after the fact is in. Now, wait a minute, wait a minute, listen, both of you, don't let your conscience bother you too much. Forrester's murder was carefully planned. Yes, if it didn't happen back there in my office, it would have happened somewhere else. Well, at least we're pretty sure who did it. Somehow I still can't believe it was Greenmet. He just doesn't seem to be the type. Yeah, ain't no my second emotion. But the facts are sure stacked up against him. I tell you, you could have knocked me over with a feather when the coroner said Forrester was poisoned. Jabbed with a hypodermic needle, and then, then to find the needle in Greenmet's pocket. Greenmet said he didn't know how it got there. And with everybody milling around in the dark, anybody could have put it there. Well, he admitted that Forrester had been needling him for months, telling him all he's been doing for 20 years is rehashing Sherlock Holmes. Oh, it's just a little too proud, Lieutenant. But I certainly don't have any other answer. Well, I'm holding Greenmet's on suspicion of murder, and I think he's going to turn out to be our man. Could be, Lieutenant, could be. Hey, Brooksie, we never did get to celebrate my natal day. Suppose we spend it on a treasure hunt. See if you can find the light switch, Angel. Okay. Well, late Mr. Forrester, Forrester's apartment has all the standard equipment. We can copy the best part. I'll crack a light under the door to the other room. You'd have to be blind not to see it. Who could it be? That's what we're going to find out. Somebody's been looking for something. He's got to have. He's not missing a trick. George, the light just went out. That's when I go in. Stingley out, Brooksie. Okay, but I don't have to light it. Okay, buster, I can't see you, but I know you're in there. Come on, make with the vocal cords. All right. All right, suit yourself. You're either going to have to jump out of that window or try to get past me. Making up your mind? Well, I don't think you're going to jump, friends, or just stay put while I find the switch and we'll... No, it's not going to be the window, friend. Oh, I feel like I was baking a cake and stuck my head too far into the oven. Oh, George, what did I do? What did you do? Well, don't tell me you put this tent in my skull. No, I hit him. Yeah, that gentleman lying face down over there by the couch. Oh, you handled yourself right well, ain't you? Well, he hit you. There wasn't anything I could do except take my shoe off and hit him back. Golly, I hope I didn't hit him too hard. We'll just see. Let's turn it over. Well, surprise. Yeah, big surprise. It's Barry. Steve Barry. Come on, Barry, you realize your story sounds as phony as a dime store engagement ring. I know. It's the truth, Valentine. I've heard of people doing things for publicity, but not anything like this. Now, please try to understand my position. There I was in your office, Valentine, at that party, the scene of the murder. Well, now what would my readers think if I, Ben Flynn's literary father, wasn't able to solve it? Oh, I can just hear the whole nation going tsk tsk tsk. Just what were you looking for here in Forrest's apartment? I don't know. Just like you, any little clue that might prove whether it was or wasn't Green Med. Who did it? Ah, just any little old clue. Yes. If I could find the murder, the sale to my new book might run into millions. You know, it's just possible somebody might think you killed Forrester, and we're here trying to destroy evidence. Hey, what about that, Barry? Me? Kill somebody? Me? Why? Why, I can't even stand the sight of blood. It makes me faint. The story is my public expects from me. All that violence. You just have no idea what a strain it is on me. Well, Green Med says his story, and you have yours. But I've told you, I'm telling the truth, and you've got to believe me. Well, I'll be able to tell you better about that later. Now go home, Barry. Put a cold compress in your head. And you, Angel, will you join me? Where now? Believe it or not, the public library. To read some mysteries. Oh, George, it's getting late. I can't expect to read all those mystery books tonight. What are you looking for, anyway? Huh? What's all this? I know, the butler did it. Oh, this might be what we're looking for. Yeah, Bruxy, here are the books by Cornelia Williston and Young Copeland. You know what I found in them? Words. And more words. Yeah. Also one particular phrase that keeps bobbing up in books. Let me guess. Don't touch anything until the police get here. No, but see, no, no. In the translucent twilight. Um, would you mind repeating that? In the translucent twilight. Yeah, that's what I thought you said. I just wanted to be sure. Now why should a lush phrase like that keep popping up in the books both of them wrote? So they steal from each other. One more intriguing little fact. Cornelia Williston's most successful book, The Twisted Claw, was dedicated to B.G. See, right here in the front of the streets. To B.G. A kindred spirit with undying love. B.G.? Look at that brittle Miss Williston. You'd never think she'd go into baby talk. A kindred spirit. And look at this book, the first one Forrester ever wrote. It wasn't signed Ben Forrester like all the later ones. It was signed B.G. Forrester. B.G. Hey, do you think? It's more than a coincidence, but I'm sending a telegram to Sweetwater, Oklahoma. Well, you know, darling, it's little streaks of logic like that that endear you to every part. The book jacket on the Twisted Claw says Miss Williston was born in Sweetwater. A telegram of the local paper will bring us a lot of interesting details about Cornelia. And then? And then, I may want to pick up my birthday party where it was so violently interrupted. With the same list of guests, except, of course, the late Mr. Forrester. Valentine, what's the reason for this clamp break? Yes, just what have you got on your mind? Have you found something that will clear this man here? I'm coming to that, Lieutenant. What's the matter, Miss Williston? Mr. Copeland? What, another birthday party so soon? I just got your message. It was for another came right over. If you're here to tell me how to change a Spice Forrester, you wouldn't be saying anything that's not true. He was obnoxious, arrogant. But I wouldn't go to the trouble of killing him. Take it easy, Greenmuts. Okay, Valentine, okay, what do you know that we should know? You better get a stand at Bruxy before the good lieutenant blows a gasket. Oh, yeah. Oh, goodbye, George, darling. I shall meet you in the translucent twilight. Translucent twi... Oh, what's the matter, Miss Williston? Those words seem to have a special meaning for you. There's nothing more beautiful than a translucent twilight, is there? Say, what's going on here? Wouldn't you say that was a purple phrase, Mr. Copeland, in the translucent twilight? I... I wouldn't know. You should, if you read your own books. Or if at least you read the ones somebody else wrote for you. What do you mean by that? Yeah, what is our list, huh? George, do you want all these fine detailed notes you made in the library? I don't think we'll need them, Bruxy. I believe Miss Williston will admit she wrote all of Copeland's books as well as her own. Goodness, you can't mean what you're saying. That can't be. The styles are too different. That's a lie, Valentine, and you know it. Ridiculous. And one phrase keeps recurring often in the books you two have written. But what about it? I told you all writers are crazy. Anyway, it could have been just a coincidence. Uh-uh, Lieutenant. Authors fall in love with certain phrases and use them over and over again without even realizing it. They become just as much a part of them, just as revealing as their fingerprints. Come to think of it, you're right, Valentine. You're right. I keep finding my Dan Flynn saying over and over again, I am going to slam you senseless, sweetheart. That's absolutely true, yeah. I find myself doing the same thing. But Mr. Valentine, I've failed to see how... Miss Williston, I received a little information from Sweetwater, Oklahoma. Is that supposed to terrify me? You wrote Copeland's books, and for a very good reason. He happens to be your son. What? What's that? Is it pride that forced you to make a successful writer for your son, Cornelia? Son? But it's Miss Williston. Miss! Take it easy, Dan. No, there was a Mr. Williston at one time. Okay, why don't you admit it, Cornelia, you're a widow. It's all here in this telegram. All right. What if I am? You're going to stop it now, Valentine. Yes, Cornelia is my mother. She wanted to help me in my career, but that's nobody else's business. Okay, okay, okay. So this is going to make headlines in the Saturday Review of Literature. Now what about it? Go on, please, Mr. Valentine. Miss Williston, you had a very good reason to kill Forrester, didn't you? Why, I hardly knew him. Except professionally. He was just another writer. Oh, I see. And is that why you dedicated the twisted claw to B.G. and I quote, With undying love. Forrester's middle initial was G. G for Gerald. And he was the kind of man who had other women call him B.G. and with the same undying love. You're right about that, Valentine. Forrester was always bragging about his success with the fair sex. The truth is, I once told him to his very face that he was a cat. Keep going, Valentine. Let's get to the end of this. Don't you see, Lieutenant, when Forrester decided he was through with Cornelia, he held a whip hand. The threat to expose the hoax of young Ted Copeland, the promising new writer. I should never have let you do it, mother. So, Cornelia, you killed Forrester in a way that would place all the suspicion on Greenmetz. Now, didn't you? Yes. That's exactly the way it happened. Thank you, Mr. Valentine. Believe me, Mrs. Bollister, I'm very sorry. Of course you know you're lying, Cornelia. What's this? And I have an idea that I won't be the one to prove that. Wait a minute. Are you trying to say she didn't kill Forrester? She just said so herself. Thank you for being a practical man, Lieutenant. No. No, this is one time I'm going to stand on my own two feet, mother. Ted, keep quiet. I killed Forrester, just as Valentine described it. But he hadn't come into him for such a long, long time. What are you doing, Ted? You have your whole life before you. It's no use, Cornelia. I'm sorry I had to do it the way I did, but I had a feeling he'd tell the truth if he saw the guilt being placed on you. I knew how much you loved him, mother. I saw how he threw you over. All I could do was stand by. Ted, the scandal about the book, it was going to ruin not only me, but you. That's why I killed him. So you see, Brooksy, Greenmatch would never in a million years think of poisoning anybody when he knows he's an authority in the field. And you figured it had to be either Cornelia or Ted. But what made you decide it was the sun? Why, Angel, don't you remember? When I was lighting the birthday cake, Cornelia handed me the lighter. She was standing right next to me, yards away from Forrester. Well, you can keep your genius badge, mister. Easy, Brooksy. What are you trying to do, trip over yourself? Well, you know, it's just this darned heel that isn't there. Incidentally, my fine friend, I'm putting the cost of a new pair of shoes on the office expense account. Oh, shakedown, eh? No, girlish superstition. Never knock anybody unconscious twice with the same shoe. There are lots of times in everyday motoring when you need extra go-ahead for your car, but fast. And the way to get that speedy pickup is to get Chevron Supreme gasoline, the gasoline that puts command performance in your car. Thanks to special blending agents, this high-octane fuel gives your car command performance under every road condition. It commands fast starts, commands smooth acceleration, commands the extra power that makes your car great on hills. And no matter where you drive in the West, with Chevron Supreme you can be sure of command performance. For premium quality, Chevron Supreme is climate tailored to each different altitude and temperature zone from Canada to Mexico in all the western states. For command performance in your car, get Chevron Supreme tomorrow. Get it at standard stations and independent Chevron gas stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. Next week at this time, we pick up George Valentine on an out-of-town assignment, which begins on a train that's just pulling into Sharandale. Ain't you kind of cold out here on the platform, Jack? What? Oh, no, I'm getting off as soon as the train stops. You're getting out here, Jack. Don't make me carve things in your face with this broken bottle. I don't like this sight of blood. Wait a minute, that's not going to be my blood. Get off, get off! Hooray! Happy landing, Jack! Stay out of Sharandale! 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. Let George Do It stars Robert Bailey as George, with Francis Robinson as Brooksie. 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 Jeanette Nolan as Cornelia, Roland Morris as Copeland, Junius Matthews as Barry, Fred Howard as Forrester, Louis Van Ruten as Green Metz, and Ruth Parrott as a scrub woman. The music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstetter, your announcer, John Easton. Listen again next week, same time, same station, to Let George Do It. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System. Music
