Let every go signal remind you that you do go farther with Signal Gasoline. The Signal Oil Program. The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight Death Sees Double. I am the Whistler and I know many things for I walk by night. I know many strange tales, many secrets hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Presently I'll tell you of nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. But first Signal Oil Company is happy to devote this time to an announcement from the United States government on today's most important event. The opening of the sixth war loan drive. Many Americans unfortunately won't be hearing this announcement beside their home radios tonight. Some are crouching in rain filled foxholes in the Philippines or Burma. Others are slogging through cold and mud in northern Italy or in France, plagued by the new German stratosphere bomb. But they're not complaining. They're just asking for the weapons they need to get the fighting over and get them home again as soon as possible. That's where you come in. It's going to take more B-29s, lots more, at $600,000 each and M4 tanks at $67,000 each. Yes, millions and millions more dollars. But you're not being asked to give your dollars. Just invest them in the world's safest investment, a United States war bond. Make it a $100 bond this time. Your war bond dollars not only pay you excellent interest while ensuring your future security, but they say to the boys we sent over there, you're not quitting, neither am I, till it's over, over there. And now, the Whistler. You've heard of identical twins, haven't you? Yes. You don't run across them very often, but once in a while you'll find two people who look so much alike that even their own parents can't tell them apart, and that can lead to all sorts of complications. There's one case I have in mind especially, the case of Mona and Martha Spencer, identical twin sisters. They were exactly alike. Their friends couldn't tell them apart. Their mother and father, before they died, had trouble distinguishing between them. After their parents' death, they were alone in the world, two devoted, loving sisters. At least that's what everyone thought. Two loving sisters, beautiful, popular, surrounded by admirers. Then, along came Bill Everett, handsome, successful, the catch of the season, as they say, and Mona caught him. Yes, they became engaged, and Mona bought out the stores for her trousseau. And one night, she and Martha stood in Mona's room, admiring the beautiful dresses and lingerie she had purchased. And this dress, and this robe, and it... What's the matter, Martha? Hmm? Oh, nothing. I think they're beautiful, all of them, especially this dress. I wonder how I'd look in it. Well, you'd look lovely, dear, the same as I will. Why don't you try it on? You mean it? Well, of course. It'll be like looking in the mirror, if myself. Go ahead. I'd like to see how it would look on me. But you're sure you don't mind? Of course I don't mind. Go ahead. Try it on. Oh, you're a very lucky girl, Mona. Lucky? To be so lovely and have Bill. Well, if I'm lovely, so are you. We're both alike. Yes, except for one thing. Oh, Martha, what is it? We've never had secrets from each other. How aren't we alike? You have Bill. Oh, I do believe you're jealous. Are you in love with Bill, too? Nonsense. I just can't help feeling a little jealous, naturally. You found your man, and I... Well, you blame me. We're not alike in another respect, Martha. You're weak, and I'm strong. Weak? Yes. I found my man, if you put it, because I made up my mind to find him. You should do the same. Darling, what's happened to all your boyfriends? He's been staying home so much lately. Well, I... I just haven't felt like going out, that's all. Martha, sometimes I don't understand you. You're so moody lately. Oh, that's probably Bill. Run down and let him in like a good girl. I'll be dressed in a minute. All right. I'm coming. Hello, Bill. Hello, Mona. Oh, wearing your new dress, huh? Oh, yes, but I... It's beautiful. Well, get your coat. We're late. But Bill, I... Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. Well, that's hardly the way to kiss a sister. Huh? Oh. I've been trying to tell you, Bill. I'm Martha. Poor Bill can't tell his fiancee from her sister. Yes. It's too bad that incident at the door had to happen because it gave Martha an idea. She tried to put it out of her mind, but she couldn't. She thought about it all evening while Mona and Bill were out having a good time. Couldn't tell me from Mona. Couldn't tell me from Mona. Not even when he kissed me. He couldn't tell. Yes, that little voice kept whispering to her over and over and over again. It wouldn't do away. The thought was there, insistent, growing. If even Bill couldn't distinguish between them, why not? Why not? By the time Mona came home, the thought had grown into a plan and Martha was waiting for her sister. Oh, hello, Martha. Still up? Yes, I couldn't sleep. What's the matter? I've been thinking. Really? Oh, that's good. I run along to bed like a good girl. I'm dreadfully tired. I suppose you had a good time with Bill tonight. Wonderful. Where did you go? To the 74 Club and Maisies. Oh, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Tell me now. Martha, what's the matter with you? Why are you still up? It's late. You should have been in bed long ago. I couldn't sleep. That's too bad, dear. Why not take something? I was thinking. I didn't want to sleep. That's a waste of time. Now run along and get to bed. I'm certainly not going to stay and talk just because you don't want to go to bed. I'll tell you all about tonight in the morning. PAPER Mona goes on about the absorbing business of getting ready for bed, but Martha stays in her room, sitting, watching her. And through her mind go the details of the plan. Carefully, minutely, she watches her sister's beauty preparations with a stoic look on her face. But with hatred burning and growing inside her, Then Mona is ready. She climbs into bed and prepares to turn out the light. Run along Martha, I'm going to bed. I want to talk. I told you we'd talk in the morning. No we won't. What? There isn't going to be any tomorrow for you, Mona. What do you mean? What are you trying to do, scare me? I remember when we were little girls you used to try to scare me. We're not children anymore, Martha. No we're not, are we? But one thing is still the same. You always get the best of everything. That's the same. I've hated you for years, never really known it until now. Hated having a sister. A sister who always got the best of everything. And then Bill came along. So I was right. You are in love with Bill. Yes Mona, I'm in love with Bill. You were right about another thing. I'm jealous of you. You're just lucky, you always have been lucky. You met him first so he fell in love with you. Why couldn't it have been me? If I'd met him first he would have fallen in love with me. Yes, you're laughing at me now, but you won't laugh much longer. You were right about several things, Mona, but you were terribly wrong about one thing. You said I'm weak and you're strong. Well you were wrong, Mona. I'm not weak, I'm strong. I'm stronger than you. I'm strong enough to kill you. You're a fool. You wouldn't gain anything by killing me. Wouldn't I? Now stop this nonsense and go to bed. We'll talk about it in the morning when you're more calm. You don't believe me, do you Mona? You don't believe there isn't going to be any morning for you. But it's true, Mona. You're going to die tonight. I'm going to kill you. Martha, where did you get that gun? That gun? Why don't you remember, Mona? This was father's gun. Put that down. You can't order me around any longer. I saw it all up. Get away from me. Martha. Clumsy, aren't you, Mona? You can't run away from me. No. I'm following you, Mona. You won't go far, just to the top of the stairs. Then you'll be down on your knees, begging me not to kill you. But it won't do you any good. In heaven's name. You see, it's you who's weak, not me. I'm strong. Martha, no. You're making a mistake. It won't do you any good. Martha, wait, please. Listen to me. You see, Mona, I told you you'd be begging on your knees. You must listen. No, you listen. You don't think I'll gain anything by killing you. You think I'll be caught and convicted and die. Well, you're wrong again, Mona. I won't be caught and I won't die. No one will even know you're dead, Mona. Because after I kill you, I'm going to become you. They'll think I died. They'll think I committed suicide. Martha, please. Perfect, Mona. Perfect in every respect. Isn't it lucky we're twins? How fortunate we look exactly alike. How fortunate we sound exactly alike. You are me now, Mona. And you're going to kill yourself. No. Martha, don't. No. Martha, no. No. No. No. Hold still, Mona. I'll struggle. It won't do you any good. I'm strong, Mona. I'm strong enough to put this gun to your head. It must look like suicide, Mona. The gun, clothes, powder burns on your face. Hold still, Mona, while I pull the trigger. The trigger. Ha ha. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. So Martha Spencer killed her twin sister, Mona. Then carrying out her plan, she immediately assumed Mona's identity. She changed into Mona's dress, arranged the gun in Mona's hand, took Mona's engagement ring and diamond clip, dressed Mona in one of her robes and put her dinner ring on Mona's finger. Oh, yes, it was perfect. Perfect in every detail. What could the police suspect when not even Bill Everett could tell Mona and Martha apart? Hello? Police department? I think you better come to 437 Oak Street right away. My sister just committed suicide. What? Oh, yes, I... I'm Mona Spencer. Yes, it's done now. Now there's no turning back, Martha. So don't get nervous. Keep calm and face the police just as if it really had been suicide. Nothing is going to go wrong, nothing. Not if you keep your head. Your plan is perfect. When the police arrive, you do keep your head. They ask only a few simple questions. And Bill, who arrives soon after, is with you to keep you steady. So you carry it off rather well. I'm sorry to subject you to these questions, Miss Spencer. I know how you must feel. Poor Martha. She threatened to kill herself, but I... I didn't think she'd do it. Had she been depressed recently? Oh, yes, very depressed. She seemed to be losing control of herself. She was never quite the same after our parents died. Do you suppose your forthcoming marriage had anything to do with it? Well, I'm afraid it did. You see, Martha and I were always very close to each other. She, uh, she had no boyfriends. I couldn't understand it. She was very attractive. Yes, just as you are. Uh, yes. But for some reason, no one ever became seriously interested in her. And then when Bill and I... Yes, I understand. By the way, Mr. Everett, did Martha Spencer say anything to you that might lead you to believe she contemplated suicide? Well, I... No, I can't say she did. It's all right, dear. You needn't spare me. I'm sure you must have noticed how strangely she's been acting lately. Come to think of it, she didn't quite seem to be herself. Hmm. I see. Well, I don't think we need to trouble you any further, Miss Spencer. These were just routine questions. The coroner's verdict was suicide. I'm satisfied. Then if you'll excuse me. Of course. I'll be running along. Oh, don't bother to show me out. I can find my way. Thank you. Goodbye, Inspector. Goodbye. Goodbye. Good luck. Well, Mona, I think I'd better be running along, too. I'll call you in the morning, huh? How much you go, Bill? I don't want to be alone for a while. Oh, yes, I know, but... Well, see here, Mona, I thought perhaps in view of what's happened, you might want to postpone our marriage for a while. Oh, nonsense, Bill. I feel bad, dear, about poor Martha, of course. But we can't help her now. We may as well forget it and enjoy our own happiness. As you wish. Bill. Yeah? You, uh... You haven't kissed me since Martha died. Oh, sorry. I love you, Bill. And now you're mine. Forever. You were listening to The Whistler, brought to you by your friend, the Signal Oil Company, marketers of famous Signal Gasoline, your best buy today. Remember to let every go-signal remind you that you do go farther with Signal Gasoline. Well, I'll be going now. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. I'm Martha Spencer, posing as her twin sister, Mona. Martha knew she looked exactly like Mona. But did she talk exactly like her, and walk and act and make love exactly like Mona? At first, the possibility bothered her. Bill, kiss me. Huh? Okay. There. Bill. Yeah? You sometimes act so cold. It makes you feel different. You know better than that. What's eating you, Mona? Nothing, nothing. I just wondered if I'd changed any. So much has happened. No, you haven't changed, Mona. You'll never change. Never in this world. Yes, everything was going all right. Bill didn't suspect a thing. Neither did the police. After two weeks, Martha felt secure. Bill didn't act as she had expected him to act. There was a sort of a chilly detachment in his attitude toward her. But perhaps that was only because he was shy or reticent to show his feelings before they were married. So the thing to do was to hurry up the marriage. Bill, why should we wait? Why don't we go ahead and get married right away? Hmm? Okay, I suppose we might as well get it over with. I'm not going to talk about our marriage. Okay, so we'll get married. Drive out to Raleigh tomorrow and get the license. Raleigh? Yes. Why drive way out to a little town like that to get it? You know why as well as I do. Oh, oh yes. Of course, dear, anything you say. Hmm, that's strange, isn't it, Martha? You're not meant by that, do you? There must be some secret between Mona and Bill that you didn't know about. But never mind, it can't be very important. And he didn't suspect you. Don't worry about it. As you drive out to Raleigh, go to the courthouse and sign the application. But now there's something else. You watch amazed as Bill signs the application for a license. Bill? It's all right. I've signed correctly. You can see for yourself. Bill, I... Stop it, Mona. What's getting into you? I'm going to the bank, please. Oh, oh yeah, yeah. Here you are. Let's see now. Seems to be all right. I'll be two dollars, please. Here you are. Thank you. I'll have to wait three days, you know. Oh, well, better wait a moment now than later in the divorce court. Let's see, let me check these names here again. Miss Mona Spencer and Mr. George Garrett. There was something wrong, something terribly wrong. Why did Bill sign the license, George Garrett? A cold chill clutched at Martha's heart, but she didn't say anything to him. On the way home, he suggested that they celebrate the occasion by going out that evening to a little road house up in the mountains. She accepted, of course, and told him she'd be ready at seven. She left his car and went up the steps of her home. Yes, her home. Now all hers. She opened the front door. And as she closed it, something on the stairs caught her attention. Oh! She looked at the top of the stairs. There was nothing there. She shrugged her shoulders and walked up. Just her imagination. Oh, was it? She paused at the top of the stairs. This was where she had killed Mona. She could almost see her, hear her. Martha, no! You're making a mistake! It won't do you any good. Martha, wait! Listen to me! Stop it, you fool! Yes, stop it, Martha. You're beginning to hear things. She went to her room, Mona's room. Ah, it was good to be alone. To enjoy Mona's trousseau. All those wonderful things. She slid open the closet door. Ah, such beautiful dresses. Which one should she wear tonight? She tried to concentrate. Sat down at the mirror. And there was her reflection. Mona's reflection. Oh, now isn't that a shame. Breaking that beautiful mirror and that fine bottle of perfume. She got up and paced the floor. She simply couldn't get it out of her mind. Why? Why? Why did Bill sign his name George Garrett? And why do Mona's words keep coming back to her? You're making a mistake! It won't do you any good. Martha, wait! Listen to me! I won't think about it. I won't, I won't, I won't. That's right, Martha. Don't think about it. Get dressed. Make yourself beautiful. As beautiful as Mona was. You should be happy tonight, Martha. In just three days you'll be married to Bill. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? Well then, be happy. Enjoy yourself tonight with Bill. Bill? Yeah? What's the matter? Matter? Nothing, why? You've been so quiet. You've hardly spoken a word since we started. Oh, sorry. Beautiful night, isn't it? That's no good, Bill. Something's wrong. What is it? Now look, Mona, I don't remember that part of the bargain was catering to your whims. Bargain? Oh, never mind. Bill, there's something I don't understand. Yeah, what? About the name you signed on the marriage license. It's okay, I told you once. I sign my right name. Your right name? You saw it yourself, for heaven's sakes, Mona. Will you cut it out? Yes, I will. I'm sorry. Sorry? That's a hot one. Bill? Yeah? You don't love me, do you? Oh, why go into that? Because I want to know. Okay, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Do you have to keep hammering at me? I'm sorry, Bill. Please don't shout at me. Bill? Well, what is it now? Where are we going? I told you once, to a little road house. Well, I don't seem to recognize this road. Where are we? We're up in the mountains. We'll be at the top soon. Bill? Do you have to talk, Mona? Aren't you satisfied? You've had your own way. What more do you want? I want to know why you don't love me. I do love you. I'm crazy about you. Now leave me alone, will you? I'm not a fool, Bill. I want the truth. Oh, you do? Well, just be patient, Mona. We're almost there. Almost where? At the top. Yeah, just around this curve. There. We're here. I don't see any road house. No, there isn't any, Mona. Then why are we stopping? So you can get the truth. You're always getting everything you want. All right, Mona, look over there. Where? Over there, while I... Bill! Bill, what are you doing? I'm just tying your arms. And now I'm gagging you. Bill, what are you doing? I'm just trying to get you to stop. And now I'm gagging you. Bill, what are you doing? There we are. Bill! Oh, it's neat. Bill, come on. How does it feel to be gagged, Mona? Oh, no, Mona, it's no use. You're going to listen to me now. You had your own way long enough. Always talking, always ordering, demanding. Well, I'm not going to go through with it, Mona. I'm not going to marry you. You can only torture a man so long, and then he does something about it. And I'm going to do something about it right now. Bill, what are you doing? Yes, Mona. Yes, I'm going to kill you. I tried to reason with you. I begged, I pleaded, I threatened, but you only laughed at me. You thought because you knew my secret you could force me to marry you, what do you think? I'd rather go to prison than marry you. No, I won't marry you. And I won't go to prison because this is going to look like an accident. I've got a perfect alibi, Mona. I can count for every minute of this evening. When they find you, they'll think you took that curve too fast, and they'll pronounce it accidental death. Perfect. This is your car, and there's nothing to connect me with even being here this evening. I'll be rid of you, Mona. I'll be free to marry Lois. Oh, you didn't know Lois, did you? You didn't even know such a person existed, did you? Well, she does, and I'm in love with her. I love her, not you, and I'm going to marry her. Please, please. Do you any good to beg for her? I can't trust you. I trusted you once with a secret, and you tried to blackmail me, blackmail me into marrying you. No, don't do this in a book like you've got the wrong girl. I can't let you go with a cliff bound in gags. No. That was just to make you listen so I could tell you why you're going to die. Wouldn't do to have them find you with your arms tied together. That wouldn't look quite like an accident, would it? Well, this is it, Mona. Now, you won't feel a thing when I bruise your pretty little head. No! Yuck! Now, just remove the gag and the ropes. Now, release the brake. Engage the clutch. Start the engine. Goodbye, Mona. Pleasant dreams. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending of tonight's story. Meantime, let's test your memory. How long has it been since you had the lubricant changed in your transmission and differential? That's an important question, because the tremendous pressure under which the gears in most modern cars operate gradually pulverizes tiny metal particles and turns even the best lubricant into a grinding, harmful abrasive. That's why, if it's been 5,000 miles or over six months since you had your transmission and differential lubricant changed, your neighborhood signal gasoline dealer suggests that now is a good time to do it. Now, when you bring your car in to have its signal safety chart lubricated for winter protection. Your signal dealer has the equipment to thoroughly flush out the old worn-out lubricant, and his signal safety chart shows the exact type of scientific high-pressure gear lubricant prescribed by the maker of your car. It's just another part of your neighborhood signal gasoline dealer's complete, conscientious service to help your car go farther. And now, back to the Whistler. Music Poor William Everett, poor George Garrett, that was his real name. He didn't get away with it. His alibi was foolproof enough so far as the accident was concerned, but he forgot that Inspector Dudley would check up on the marriage license and see his name signed big as life, the name of George Garrett, an escaped convict. Yes, Inspector Dudley didn't have to pin a murder on him. All he had to do was send him back to prison to finish serving a term of life imprisonment. Poor Bill, he only committed murder to protect his secret, and he never knew that it wasn't Mona he killed, it was Martha. And Martha hadn't the slightest idea that he had a secret, so she would never have given him away. Too bad Martha couldn't have known the truth before she killed Mona. Oh well, that's what happens sometimes when you're a twin and you're in love with the same man as your sister. Music Next Monday at 9 o'clock, the Signal Oil Program will bring you another strange tale by the Whistler. The Signal Oil Program is broadcast for your entertainment by the Signal Oil Company, marketers of Signal's famous Go-Farther gasoline and motor oil, and by your neighborhood signal oil dealer. We've got your service daily to keep your car running for the duration. The Signal Oil Program, produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Ralph Rose and music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. Bob Anderson speaking for your friend, the Signal Oil Company, and suggesting once again that you let every Go signal remind you that you do go farther with signal gasoline. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Music
