Signal. Signal gasoline. Yes, signal gasoline is the new gasoline you can prove is superior. The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, final returns. I am the Whistler and I know many things for I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. They say there's always a woman in the life of every successful man, a woman who inspires him or pushes him or nags him from obscurity to fame. Yes, a woman can be a man's destiny. If it hadn't been for Sylvia, Alex Kirby would have worked his life away at one of the open hearth furnaces of the Williston Steel Company and the state would have lost one of its colorful political figures. But fate had something else in store for Alex Kirby, something that had its beginning at a high school prom he attended one night with his friend Leonard Evans. Oh, look, Len, I'm getting out of here. I shouldn't have come. Now, wait, Alex, I told Sylvia I wanted her to meet you. Oh, some other time. I don't belong here. What's that mean? Look at all these kids having a swell time and then look at me. What's wrong? You an old man at 21? Len, I never went to high school. That's the answer. I don't want to kid myself I belong here. I suppose I do. Sure you do. You went to high school, to college. You know this Taylor Dame. She's not a dame, Alex, she's a teacher. That's what I mean. They're all dames to me. I don't belong here. Well, it's too late to back out. Here's Sylvia now. Hello, Leonard. Hope I didn't keep you waiting. Oh, no. Sylvia, this is Alex Kirby. You've heard me talk about him. Oh, yeah. Alex, Sylvia Taylor. How do you do, Mr. Kirby? Hello. Have you gentlemen been dancing yet? Oh, as a matter of fact, Sylvia, Alex was just saying... Hey, now look, Len. How about you two take this dance? Well, if Mr. Kirby... Of course he does. Go ahead. I'll go sample the punch bowl. You dance very well, Mr. Kirby. Oh, do I? Paul Leonard's an atrocious dancer. Len's a swell guy. Yes, his whole family is sweet. They've been wonderful to me. I'm bored with them, you know. I've no family of my own. Yeah, he told me. You work in the open house, don't you, Mr. Kirby? Yeah, where muscle counts. Len works in the chemical lab. You haven't any family either, have you? How'd you know? Oh, Leonard talks about you. He thinks very highly of you. Yeah? Yes, he says you've earned your own living since you were 13. He thinks you have great potentiality. Yeah? And so do I. Yeah? For goodness sake, Mr. Kirby, the word is yes. What? Not yeah, yes. Oh. You're to make anything of yourself, you must learn to speak properly. Oh. Well, I'll be darned. Hey, you like to know something? Something. Okay, something. You're the first day... girl who's ever corrected me. Kind of hopeless, though, don't you think? Oh, I don't know. Mr. Kirby, I'm beginning to think you have possibilities. Alexander. Yeah, yes? Have you told Leonard yet? No, not yet. Oh, you promised me you'd do it today. Oh, I couldn't. Why not? Well, Len's such a nice guy... Men are not nice guys and good guys and swell guys, Alexander. How many times must I tell you that? I know, I know. Surely you can tell Leonard about our engagement. Why not? I know, but the way Len feels about you... I've never given him the slightest encouragement. Are you sure you want to marry me, Sylvia? I knew it the moment I met you. You sound pretty sure of yourself. I'm sure of you, Alexander. Very sure of what the two of us can do together. We're going straight to the top. Oh, there you go with that heading for the top stuff again. You've got me all wrong, Sylvia. I'm nobody at all. You're handsome. That's a start. I mean, I don't have any background, no schooling. We'll make up for that together. You'll go to night school and I'll tutor you. Gosh, I'd sooner have a good time than go to school. Rather, dear. Not sooner. You'd rather have a good time. Okay, rather. But the point I'm trying to make is... It isn't a valid point, Alexander. Mine are. You're handsome, you're well-liked, you have native intelligence, and you have the qualities of leadership. Everyone who meets you knows it. And we're going to capitalize on those gifts. Are you inferring again? The word is imply, not infer. But I'm doing more than imply. I'm telling you flatly, we're going into politics. But I don't know anything about politics. You will. You're going right up to the top. Where's that? The governor's mansion. You know, Sylvia, this is the first time I've ever heard you crack a joke. I'm not joking. Well, I'll be darn. Hey, you mean it, don't you? Of course I mean it. We're going to do things in this world, Alexander. Someday we'll leave this scrubby little steel town, but it can give us something now. Small and cheap and shoddy, but it's a start. Oh, don't you see, Alexander? You can have anything you want, if you want it badly enough. The only thing that can stop you is death. How old is a car? Well, in years, the average car on the road today has passed its seventh birthday. But like most folks, a car is really only as old as it feels. And many cars today feel much younger than their birthdays, thanks to that amazing new super fuel, new signal gasoline. Here's what I mean. With new signal in your tank, you touch the starter and instantly you feel your motor spring to life. As you step on the accelerator, you see your car step ahead with a pickup that makes you proud. And because of new signals, higher anti-knock, you hear your motor purr contentedly, even on steep hills. It's because of these features, which you can actually feel, see, hear, that we call new signal, the post-war gasoline you can prove is superior. But while you're enjoying this improved performance, you'll be interested to know that you're also enjoying an extra bonus in extra miles. You see, because new signals' amazing power means you'll find less need for shifting into second or low gear, and shifting is the demon that wastes gasoline, your speedometer will tell you it's a fact. You actually go farther than ever with new signal gasoline. And now, back to the Whistler. Yes, Alex, Sylvia was very much your destiny from the first time she met you and corrected you. She was never a pretty girl, was she? In fact, when you married her, all the lively little Polish girls you danced with and made love to wondered why you'd chosen a cold fish like Sylvia. They didn't know a man can't run away from his destiny, did they, Alex? At the time, nobody could guess that six years later, you'd be the most important man in that grubby little steel town, thanks to Sylvia. Yes, thanks to the books she made you study, the ambition she instilled in you, her untiring correction of your mistakes in grammar and speech and the social niceties. You were able to run for mayor and win the election. And on election night, after everyone had finally gone home, everyone but Leonard Evans. Will somebody pinch me now? I still can't believe it. I never had any doubts about the outcome, did you, Leonard? No, no. You can never be sure about an election, Sylvia. I'll admit I wasn't worried about the mill guys, the labor vote, but when the other side of town poured in for me too, oh my gosh, it was a landslide. Sylvia told you it would be, Alex. Well, I know, but anything can happen in politics. Now, like I told that reporter. As you told that reporter. Oh, now, Sylvia, can't I relax when nobody's around? School isn't out yet, I see. Well, I guess I'd better run along. I have some packing to do. Packing? What do you mean, Lion? I'm leaving town tomorrow, Alex. Oh, you're kidding. No, no, I'm not. Look, Sylvia. Leonard told me two weeks ago, dear. But you didn't tell me. You let me think... I thought it could wait until the election was over. I didn't want to worry you. Oh, I'm a child, is that it? So I'm a kid who has to be shielded from everything. Now you're being absurd. OK, Sylvia, OK, skip it. Where are you going, Lion? The West Coast. I'll be up to my neck in chemical engineering. You sure you won't change your mind? Oh, sorry, Alex, I can't. I've got to get away. Well, I hope you'll make a hit at whatever it is. Thanks, Alex. I know you'll be successful. You'll always be. As long as Sylvia's beside you. As long as Sylvia's beside you. With her, you're a success. Without her, a failure. Leonard's right, isn't he, Alex? As the years go by, she's there beside you, like your right arm, writing your speeches, standing quietly in the background, as you move up the ladder, higher and higher. It's inspiration at first. And slowly, subtly, it changes to desperation. She never lets up, eternally nagging, pleading, insulting. Anything to keep you moving up, higher and higher. Sylvia, Sylvia! Yes, dear, I hear you. In here. Sylvia, it's all set. What's all set? The nomination. I had lunch with Ed Stevens today. He said it'll be automatic. I'm as good as on the ballot as the party's candidate for the 48th district. That's not bad, huh? It's very good. Well, aren't you going to congratulate me? All right. Congratulations. You're not very enthusiastic. Is it because you didn't have your hand in it for once, because I somehow managed to swing it without you? I don't want to disillusion you, Alex, but Mr. Stevens and I had it all settled last week. What? Yes. Furthermore, the one reason they selected you, according to Mr. Stevens, is the fact that you had nothing to do with the Preston machine, and I think you'll agree that was my decision. Am I right? Yes, Sylvia. As usual. Yes, Alex, higher and higher, and she's always there, making every decision, correcting your speech, jumping on you like a wildcat when you try to make a move on your own. And the trouble is, she's always right, isn't she? She has a genius for being right. You wonder if there's any escape, if she'll ever be satisfied. Washington, a seat in Congress. Still, she's there, picking away, goading you on. Then, at a smart embassy cocktail party, a girl walks into your life, a girl who represents everything Sylvia has denied you. So you're Alexander Kirby. I've been wondering when I'd meet you. Did you expect to, Miss Rowland? Oh, yes. Dad's talked so much about you, you see. About me? You don't know who I am, do you, Mr. Congressman? Well, I... I'm Senator Rowland's daughter. Oh, I get it now. Of course, Senator Rowland. Sounds surprised. Well, I never expected the Senator... Well, frankly, I never imagined the Senator having such a pretty daughter. Of course. Dad has other accomplishments besides bellowing on the Senate floor. If you're only one of them, he's a very remarkable man. Very potent champagne, isn't it, Mr. Kirby? I don't think it's the champagne. Maybe the atmosphere? Maybe. You have the bluest eyes I've ever seen. You're not going to take inventory of me, are you, Mr. Kirby? I know I'm clumsy at this sort of thing. It's been a long time. I don't think you could be clumsy at anything you do. Ah, now you're laughing at me. No, it's a defense mechanism. I always talk this way when... when I'm scared. Scared? Can't you tell? I'm scared to death. Why? For the same reason you are. Vivian. Silly, isn't it? We're both trembling. Vivian, when can I meet... Wait. Somebody's watching us. Where? Over there. The woman in that frightful dress. See her? Yes. She's my wife. But listen, you've got to listen to me, Sylvia. I don't think you know what you're saying. I knew it would be a shock to you, but there just isn't any other way. I've got to have a divorce. Why? Because I don't love you. Oh. Furthermore, I never did, and I don't think you've ever loved me. Is that good enough reason? If it's true, it is. Of course, there are other considerations, too. Yes, I know they're all, Sylvia. They just don't seem so important to me now. They're important to me. Who is she? Vivian Roll. The one you were dancing with the other night? That's right. She's quite pretty. What are you leading up to, Sylvia? I'm just approving of your taste in women, dear. She's a lovely girl. Glad we agree on that. It's a shame you'll never be able to marry her. Sylvia, I don't understand you. I swear I don't. I thought you had pride. I have more pride than you will ever have, Alexander. And I don't think I flatter myself by claiming a little more intelligence. What do you think I am, Alexander? Why do you think I spent the best 15 years of my life making a somebody out of a nobody? Why, when I first knew you, you didn't know the difference between a champagne glass and a shaving mug. Why do you think I gave up everything I had? Oh, wait a minute, Sylvia. I do know. I know exactly why you did it. You picked me out like you'd pick out a promising colt at a horse auction. That's all I was, a hunk of clay you thought you could make a career out of. And I've got to hand it to you. You did it. You rang the bell. You put your dough on a winner. That's me, a front runner, unbeatable at a mile and an eight. Alex. Oh, it's true, isn't it? Oh, you're clever, Sylvia. You're smart. You're as cold and accurate as a piece of machine steel. But you made one bad mistake, my dear. You forgot I'm alive. I think. I feel. I got a heart. Oh, I beg your pardon. I have a heart. That's why Vivian Rowland is more important to me than anything else. And that's why I'm going to marry her. You mean you're going to commit bigamy. I've already told you divorce is out of the question. You've got to be reasonable, Sylvia. I think I'm being fair. I've devoted my life to you. I think I'm entitled to something now that we've arrived. You might as well put divorce out of your mind, Alexander. I'd die before I'd give you up. Is that clear? Yes, I suppose it is. Alex. Huh? Have you told her yet? No. You said you'd do it last night. I will, Vivian. Tonight, for sure. You do love me, don't you? If I could only tell you, Vivian. Oh, I can't wait to let Daddy in on it. He doesn't suspect anything, does he? Oh, of course not, silly. Nobody knows about us. What do you think he'll say? Oh, he thinks you're smart and ambitious, and I think you're handsome. I think we'll agree on you. Of course, he might think I'm a little old for you. You're only 35. Still, that's a little older than you are. I want it that way. I'm really not a know-it-all, Alex. I'm a fake. You a fake? Yes. You'll have a lot to teach me, Alex. Teach you? Scare you? No. Just happened to think I've never been asked to teach anybody before. You will tell her tonight, won't you, sweetheart? I'm getting awfully tired of waiting. All right, Vivian. I'll tell her tonight. Well, Alex, what are you going to do? It looks as if the next move is up to you. You know it's useless to argue with Sylvia, don't you? She has you where she wants you. In the center of the ring, like a train seal balancing a ball on your nose while she stands over you with a whip. There isn't room for anything else in your mind, is there, Alex? Not even the biggest election in your career. Hello, Jerry. Jerry, this is Alex. Look, tell him I can't speak tonight. I'm sorry. Tell him I don't feel well. Tell him anything. I just can't make it, that's all. Okay, so it loses me a million votes. What if I don't care? All right, I'll lose the governorship too. I'm not talking tonight and that's final. Alexander, why aren't you down at the auditorium? I'm not speaking tonight, Sylvia. What's the matter? Just wasn't up to it. You know what it means? Yes, I know what it means. How long are you going to keep up this silly brooding? Sylvia, won't you listen to reason? You're not happy the way things are, are you? I don't suppose I am. Well, why won't you? I'm sorry, Alexander. Believe me, I'm sorry. Horrible situation. There's no way out for you and there's no way out for me. You see, I'm just as determined to go to the top with you as you are to get rid of me. Listen, Sylvia. Look at my side, Alexander. Does it seem fair to you to toss me aside after I saved your purpose? You're a sort of a work of art, dear. You're something I made with my two hands and my brain. You're like a picture I spent a lifetime painting. When you're gone, there's nothing left for me, don't you see? There'd be no reason for me to go on living. All right, Sylvia. The next week is like a long nightmare, isn't it, Alex? The clamor of the campaign rings in your ears. You find yourself making speeches, the speeches Sylvia wrote for you, by the way. Banners, posters, cheering crowds are all around you, but you hardly notice them. Slowly, insidiously, something is happening to you. Everything except you and Vivian and Sylvia fades into insignificance. There's no way out, she said. As long as she lives, you belong to her. It was a shock when you first found yourself thinking of it, wasn't it, Alex? As long as she lives, you belong to her. You were panicky, you hurriedly cast it out of your mind, but it came back again and again, each time appearing less terrifying and more logical. And then finally... Sylvia. Oh, oh, you startled me. I didn't hear you come in. Come on, get your coat. We're going out. What for? Never mind what for, we're going out. We're going to decide this divorce business once and for all. Now let's not go into that, Alexander. Okay. How many times must I tell you, okay is vulgar? You've told me for the last time, Sylvia. What do you mean? You've corrected me for the last time. I'm going to kill you, Sylvia. Alexander, if this is a stupid attempt to frighten me... There's nothing stupid about this revolver. Alexander, you're not... you're not yourself. You can't get away with this. Don't worry, I'm not going to do it here. That's why we're going out. Can't be serious. It's never more serious in my life. For that Roland girl, eh? And for me too, for my own salvation. You're throwing it all away, aren't you? Everything we spent 15 years building. Maybe if I'm caught. You will be. You're as stupid at this as you are at everything else. Or you'll never get away with it, Alexander. All right, I won't get away with it. So what? I said I'd rather die than give you up, didn't I? Something like that. Maybe... maybe it is worth dying for. What do you mean? You can't understand it, I guess. I don't suppose anyone could understand it. That's the trouble, you see. No one can know how I feel about you. It isn't love exactly. It's a lifetime of work, worry and sleepless nights. Years of mustering every ounce of strength I have to make you great. That's what you're throwing away, Alexander. And I won't let you do it. I won't. Listen, Alexander. If you're going to kill me, you can do it right, at least. You can let me help you here too. What are you talking about? I'll write you a note, Alexander. I'll write you a suicide note. Oh, Alex, darling, I feel so sorry for you. It's been such a shocking blow. Yes, I... I know, Vivian. You have everyone's sympathy. No one ever dreamed she would kill herself. The last thing in the world I expected. I thought it was because of us. Oh, no, no, no, Vivian. You mustn't think that. After all, there was her note. Yes, that note. Oh, let's think of the future, darling. You've everything in the world coming your way. And now we'll both share it. Always. We can't get married for some time yet, though. Oh, I know that. But after the election... Yes. I, uh... I won't see you much until then. I... I'm going back into the campaign this week. But afterwards... We'll always be together, dear. Forever and ever. Well, Alex, it's really simple, isn't it? No one suspects you. Everyone's most sympathetic. And Vivian loves you. You go back into the campaign in earnest. No time now for anything but politics. Your own politics this time. Your own ambition. You forget all about Sylvia and the ugly, sordid past. Until one night a few months after the murder. Oh, what in the world could that be? Hello, Alex. Well, Len. Oh, for heaven's sake. I thought you were on the coast. I was. Well, sit down. Thanks. How'd you happen to come east? Business. Bid a lot of water under the bridge since I saw you last, Alec. Yeah. Tough about Sylvia. I, uh... I'd like to talk about it, Len. Funny thing. You never knew how I felt about Sylvia, did you, Alex? I loved her, you know. Always had until I introduced you to. Then it was all over. I'm sorry, Len. Yeah, so am I. I've been reading the newspapers. They gave the story quite a spread. Yeah, I know. Natural, of course, with you a political bigwig and all. Oh, yeah. Yeah. Well, uh, what business brought you back, Alec? Sylvia, what did you think? What do you mean? Very simple, Alex. I'm going to kill you. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story. Meantime, while the smashing of the atoms is still making headlines, I'd like to tell you how another group of scientists have already put atoms to work for you, not by smashing them but by putting them together. You see, it was actually by separating the atoms in gasoline molecules and then putting them together in an entirely new way that chemists created that amazing new type of motor fuel, new signal gasoline. That's why new signal is not just pre-war quality gasoline, not just old-style gasoline improved but an entirely new type of super fuel packed with new power so immediately apparent you can feel it, see it, hear it. To discover what proud performance there's still left in your car, you really owe it to yourself to try new signal gasoline. Stop this week at one of the friendly stations displaying signals, familiar yellow and black circle sign, and let just one tankful of this great new super fuel prove in your own car why new signal actually is the new post-war gasoline you can prove is superior. And now, back to the Whistler. Well, Alex, you try to talk but all you can do is jabber. And it's no wonder with your old friend Leonard Evans calmly sitting on the Davenport toying with a 38 automatic. Oh, wait. Yes, Alex. It's enough to make anyone jabber, isn't it? Don't be a fool, then. Put that gun down. I will later. They put it in your hand, in fact, just as you did with Sylvia. Why did you kill her, Alex? What? Why did you kill her? She killed herself. It was suicide. Everybody said so. The coroner, the police surgeon, the papers. You're not giving a statement to the papers now, Alex. You're talking to someone who knows you. Why did you kill her, Alex? You can't mean what you're saying. It doesn't make sense. You got tired of being Porsche, didn't you? What you could get along without her. I don't know, Alex. Maybe I'm jealous. It couldn't have happened to me, you see, no matter how hard she pushed. We never could have reached the top of the ladder. And she wanted the top so badly. Well, that's beside the point, I guess. Why did you kill her, Alex? Why did you write that suicide note for her? I didn't write it. When you forced her to write it for you before you killed her. Listen, Leonard. I got a copy of it right here. Took it out of the paper. Let's see. Hey, you. Here it is. I don't mean to infer you have been unkind to me. Does that sound like Sylvie, Alex? What's wrong with it? She never would have used infer, Alex. Imply is the right word, remember? She used to call you on it all the time. Let's get this over with. Hello, Joe. Oh, hello, Mr. Evans. A scotch and soda double. Right away, sir. That was tough about Governor Kirby killing himself. I just heard the news. Yeah. He's a friend of yours, wasn't he? Yes, it sure was tough, wasn't it? Yeah. Here, Joe. Buy yourself a drink. Gosh, Mr. Evans. Twenty bucks. Yeah, I won't be needing it. Taking a little trip, Joe. Down to police headquarters. Next Monday at nine o'clock, the Whistler will bring you another strange tale, the curious story, Call It Coincidence. The Whistler is broadcast for your entertainment by the marketers of signal, gasoline, and motor oil, and fine quality automotive accessories, and by your neighborhood signal dealer. This program produced by George W. Allen with tonight's story by Leslie Edgeley, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking and suggesting that you try new signal. The new gasoline you can prove is superior. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
