The signal oil program, the Whistler. That whistle is your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. 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. Yes friends, it's time for the signal oil program, the Whistler. Rated by Independent Research, the most popular West Coast program. In gasoline, you know, it takes extra quality to go farther and signal is the famous go farther gasoline. So look for the signal circle sign in yellow and black that identifies signal service stations from Canada to Mexico. And now the Whistler's strange story. Safety in numbers. It was a calm night, almost too calm, with a thick mist hanging low over the ocean. In the distance, the occasional wail of a foghorn on the Mexican coast, a cold lonely sound, made Irene Thorpe glad his arms were around her. Thankful over and over again that there was someone in the world like Marty. I'm lost, Marty. So lost. Forget it, Angel. It won't be like this forever. I tried to talk to Tom. He won't listen to me. He will, tonight. What do you mean, Marty? He knows I'm aboard. I told your charming husband I had something to say to him. I don't know if you should have done that, Marty. He won't listen to me. Please, please, Irene, let me handle it, will you? You don't know him. You don't know the cold, steely way he can love you. The way he can... Look, Irene, please. Let's not talk about it, darling. Let's just think about us, huh? All right, Marty. But I'm afraid. You do love me, don't you? Yes, so much. Well, that's all that matters now. Yes, Irene, you're thankful for Marty Krueger. Thankful that you had someone to turn to during the long maddening year since your husband, Tom Thorpe, and his partner, Sam Romano, towed the gambling ship Golden Chance into Mexican waters. Anchored it off the seaport town of San Vicente and had begun to pile up a fortune. A year ago the money had seemed important, but you hate it now. Hate the Golden Chance, and most of all hate Tom Thorpe for making you a part of it. And even as you stand there close to Marty in the blackness at the bow of the vessel, you find it hard to shake the feeling that something is going to happen, that all your hatred is coming to a climax, soon perhaps, even tonight. Marty. Yes, darling? I'm scared. I'm still scared. Oh, unless an angel get hold of yourself. I'll just see Tom. It's not that. It's something else. What? Did you ever feel like... did you ever feel you could kill someone? Maybe. Maybe. I don't know what's the matter with you tonight, but that kind of talk is no good. I know it isn't. I can't help it, Marty. I want to kill him. Down inside I want to kill him. It's not just you and me. Everything that's happened during the past year, all the secrecy, the whisperings. The way that awful Sam Romano watches me whenever I'm aboard. But Romano's a gambler. All gamblers are suspicious. But it's more than that. Something's happening on this boat. I know it. The money, Marty. Why are they getting all that money? Ten customers, 15, 20 a night. It's not coming from them. It couldn't. Wait a minute. Signior Kruger? Oh, yes? What do you want? Signior Torp. He would like to see you in his office now. Oh? I'll be right with you. Thank you, Signior. I would not delay if I were you. It is rather urgent. I'll be back in ten minutes. Wait for me here, darling. Be careful, Marty. You can't tell what he'll do when you tell him that his wife is in love with you. I'll handle him, baby. Hey, how about one more, huh? For luck? Oh, Marty, darling. Now, yeah, I'll be back in ten minutes, Angel. And from here on out, we've got a lifetime together. So he leaves you there, Irene, and strides down the deck towards your husband's office. And the silence suddenly seems heavier, the darkness blacker, the foghorn's lonelier. Ten minutes pass. 15, 20. You try to control your nerves. Try to tell yourself that Marty will handle Tom without any trouble. But as you glance at the watch on your wrist, your hands shake so the figures blur. And at the sound of the ship's bell, you jump as if someone had reached out for you from the darkness. Eleven thirty, Irene. Marty has been gone more than a half hour. You can't wait any longer. You won't wait any longer. You light a cigarette to calm your nerves. And then you walk quickly back along the deck to Tom's office. Hello, Irene. Hello, Tom. I was just telling Mama's boy here what a big mistake he's made. Put out that cigarette. I'll do it. You hear what I said? Put it out. All right, darling, anything you say. There's no smoking on the ship, you know that. Don't you think it's a little foolish thought? I didn't ask you, Kruger. Only a suggestion, bud. Customers might like a smoke once in a while. From the looks of the gambling rooms, you need customers. Suppose you mind your own business. Oh, you better go to your room, Irene. I'm going to see you later. We're going to settle it right here. It's already settled. I've ordered a boat for Mr. Kruger, my dear, leaving in ten minutes. Now on, Kruger, you're barred from the ship. He'll come here if I want him to. You hear what I said, Kruger? You're off the ship for good. Is that clear? And what if it isn't? You're liable to wake up on the beach tomorrow morning covered with barnacles. You can't run my life, Tom. I've had all of this. I can stand. Oh, so you want to switch onto another track, huh? Well, you won't, baby. You run this one till the end of the line. Maybe I've got something to say about that. You better go, Marty. All right, but you're coming with me. She's not going anywhere. Come on, Irene. You hear what I said? Sure, but I just don't agree. That's all. You know, I don't like you, Kruger. I'm afraid I'm going to have to mush you up. Marty! I wasn't smart, so I wasn't going to... No! Irene, listen to me. No, don't do it. Irene! Marty. Oh, Marty. Irene, the paper knife. You... you... Look at him, Marty. Yeah. I don't know if he... he... He's dead. Yes. He's dead. I'm free now. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. We've got to think. I'm free. We've got to get him out of here. I'm free. Irene, get out of it. He's gone. I'm free. Free! Get hold of yourself. You know what you've done is boys know he's in here. How do we explain? I'm sorry, Marty. It happened so quickly. Never mind that. Here, now help me. We've got to get him over the side. We'll tell him he fell. He'll find the body. He'll know. We've got to take that chance. There's no other way to cover up. Yes. Yes, Marty. Look, come on. Oh, stop. It's Andy. Irene, good Lord. Who's that? Andy. Tell him to write handmaid. Stole him, Stole him. You hear? Tell him just a minute. What's the same? Just a minute, Andy. Marty, what do we do? The vault. Look, the vault's open. It's big enough. Help me put the body in there. All right, easy. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Easy. There. Now. I'll move back from the door so I can close it. I've got to hold him. Mr. Thorpe, this is important. Marty. Listen to me. Listen to me. Here's what you do. I stand in the corner by the body. You hear? Where he can't see me. We're having an argument. You get it? But another girl, you do all the talking and don't let him inside that door. All right, I'll try. All right, now put yourself together and go into your act. I don't care, Tom. Makes no difference to me. You want to play around with that cheap little tramp? What is it, Andy? I've got to see the boss right away. It's important. Not now, Andy. Just can't wait. The electric wiring's going bad down below. You can talk to him tomorrow. I'll explain to him. Listen, you don't know how important this is. He'd be sore at me if I... I cannot explain to him. Do you understand that? Okay, Mrs. Thorpe. Okay, but tomorrow won't do. I'll be back in 20 minutes. Tell him it's about the wiring. Be sure. Yes, yes. I'll tell him. Good girl. We got by with it. But he's coming back. 20 minutes. That's time enough. Now we'll put the body over the side. Come on, let's get this vault open. Here's the vault. What's the matter? How the devil do you work this? Marty, it clicked shut. It's locked. Locked? Well, you know the combination, don't you? No, I don't. What? Nobody but his partner, Sam Romano, knows it. What do you mean? You mean we can't open it? Irene, everybody on the ship knows Tom's here in the office. Oh, my. What are we going to do? With the prologue of safety and numbers, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange story by the Whistler. On last Monday's program, I read you a letter from a Whistler fan who decided to test the mileage of signal gasoline for himself. But if you recall, after stopping at two signal stations, he was so impressed with the service, he completely forgot to check the mileage. Well, tonight I've selected a letter from another Whistler fan, Mr. H.T. Fisher of Glendale, California, who writes, I've been listening to your broadcast for quite some time and have enjoyed not only the stories, but also your comments about signal service. An experience I had a few days ago proved to me what service really can mean. About 10 miles out of Indio, my car stalled, so I got a lift into town and looked up your signal dealer. In a jiffy, he drove out to where I was stalled, located the trouble, and I was on my way again. This is the first time in 40 years of driving I've ever been enthusiastic enough about service to write a letter. But this signal dealer really gave me such fine service, I feel he deserves a pat on the back. Well, Mr. Fisher, we're mighty happy that it was a signal dealer who gave you the urge to write that kind letter. And on behalf of Signal Oil Company, I want to thank you. Of course, signal dealers being in business for themselves do have more incentive to do the kind of job that will make friends and keep them. But it's letters like this which you Whistler fans send in that make signal dealers strive to do an ever finer job of making today's cars run better and last longer. And now back to the Whistler. It all happened in a flash, didn't it, Irene? The feeling of foreboding that swept over you when Marty was called into your husband Tom's office. your hand on the knife, and then Tom's body on the floor at your feet. Somehow all through the past year you felt that the secrecy, the suspicions, the whisperings aboard the gambling ship Golden Chance would lead to violence. But you didn't quite think it would leave you in a predicament like this. But you have to face it, Irene. Andy, the ship's manager, will be back in 20 minutes looking for Tom. And Tom's partner, Sam Romano, will be back tomorrow night to open the vault. And you and Marty stand staring at each other, knowing the body is locked fast inside those three inches of steel. Irene, listen, darling, think. You've got to think. That combination must be written down somewhere. Can't you remember seeing it? No, I can't. Wait. What? I remember. Oh. It's on a little yellow card in the safe at home. Oh, a lot of good that does with Andy coming back in 20 minutes. Oh, Marty. It's no use, Irene. We might as well. What's that? Speaker system. Someone's calling Tom. Don't answer it. No, I'd better. I'd better. Yes? The boat you ordered, Mr. Thorpe. It is alongside. Waiting. What? Oh, all right. I'll be right back. Thanks. I'll be right up. Baby, there's our answer to everything. The boat Tom ordered for me. Marty, you're going to try to. Sure. Sure, I'll wear his overcoat and his muffler. As far as they know, he's leaving the ship. You carry the ball if we meet anybody. Oh, Marty, I. Never mind that now. You're a good actress a few minutes ago. You've got to do it again. It's a tense few minutes, isn't it, Irene? I mean, hurrying out to the boat deck, Tom's overcoat up around Marty's face, the hat pull low. You make it to the water taxi. And during that long ride to the mainland, you're thankful it's a foggy night that the pilot isn't interested in his passengers. The car's on the wharf where you left it. And a half hour later, the two of you walk up to the front door of Tom's big house, the end overlooking the bay. Hello. This is Andy, Mrs. Thorpe. I'm calling from the dock. Listen, Andy. I wish the boss hadn't gone to shore without telling me, Mrs. Thorpe. Put him on, please. Andy. Andy, he's left. Left. I just dropped him off at the airport. I put him on a plane for Mexico City. Mexico City? You mean he went away without... Hey, listen, did you tell him about the electric wiring? Yes, yes. I did. He wanted you to take care of it. He was in an awful hurry. Something must have come up, Andy. Yeah? Like what? Well, I don't know. He said something about some important business. But he had to be there in the morning. That doesn't sound right to me. Well, I can't help how it sounds, Andy. I don't know everything about my husband's business. That's it, Mrs. Thorpe. It's my job to know. Look, for one thing, he left the vault locked. See, anything about what I'm supposed to do with tonight's take is a lot of dough. Well, he said you could bring the money here. Know what you're saying? That's about 40,000 bucks. I got a payoff tonight. Payoff? Hey, skip it, skip it. You wait right there, Mrs. Thorpe. I'll bring it over after we shut down. Be there around 3.30 or 4. Well, Irene, you know you can't go back to the gambling ship now, can you? Has nothing to do but sit and wait for Andy. Stare at Marty, light cigarettes, put them out, pour drinks and forget about them. Stare at the little yellow slip of cardboard with a combination to the vault on it until you can repeat them backwards and sideways. And you can't go back to the gambling ship. You can't go back to the gambling ship. You can't go back to the gambling ship. And then finally at 4 a.m. There he is. All right, baby, get rid of him fast. I'll wait in the other room. We'll get back out to the ship as soon as he's gone. Take your drink. I got it. Go on. Ah, sorry to lean on the bell like that, Mrs. Thorpe. Thought maybe you'd fallen asleep. I am tired. You know, I still can't get over the boss pulling a trick like this, leaving without telling anybody. You've been acting strange lately. I hadn't noticed it until the night. Did he say anything to you on the way home? Not much. He was awfully tired, I guess. And still he piled right onto a plane without getting a night's sleep, huh? Nothing makes sense, does it? I don't know, Andy. I only told you what I know. Sure, sure. I was just wondering what Sam Romano's gonna say when he finds his partner ran off. What do you mean ran off? Something you wouldn't understand. Okay, Mrs. Thorpe, here's the cash. Ordered his own food. Cash orders his orders. You're, uh... You sure they're his orders? Of course. Wall safe right over there. I left it open for you. Okay. Awful screwy, though, leaving 42,000 bucks in a sardine can like this. It's all right, Andy. Just close it and give the knob a whirl. No one will know it's here. Just us, huh? Aye. That does it. Meet you here in the morning, Mrs. Thorpe, so we can go down to the bank together. Fine, Andy. I'll be there. Sure, but let's not kid ourselves, Mrs. Thorpe. It's tough about a business trip in Mexico City's as queer as a three dollar bill. I wonder what Romano's gonna think. Oh, well, I'm sure he'll understand. Don't worry about the money. No, and don't you. You see, just to be sure, I'm posting a few of the boys outside. They'll stand guard for you, Mrs. Thorpe, so no one can enter or leave the house without being seen. Night. Andy! Yeah? Nothing. Good night. Good night. Marty, did you hear what he said? Yeah, yeah, yeah. We can't leave the house. We've got to wait. But what about Romano? He's getting in tomorrow night. If we don't get to the vault before he does. We will. Now, look, I was thinking while Andy was here, we've got to slow down, baby. We've been going too fast. We're safe as long as that body's locked in that vault. Safe? Oh, Marty. I know, Angel, I know. We're on the spot. We're going to make it. You could have walked out on me, Marty. No, baby. I'm with you all the way. Oh, kiss me, Marty. Kiss me. Oh, Marty, maybe you should try to sneak out and get to this ship right now. With Andy's watchtowers around the house? Not a chance. Besides, they'd never get aboard without you. Now, look, darling, just concentrate, concentrate on playing that bank routine right tomorrow morning. The rest we'll take care of when we come to it. Gracias, senora. Now, if you will please, to sign the deposit slip. Oh, oh, of course. That takes care of it. Is that everything, Andy? I think, senora, that you had best go out to the ship as soon as possible. The vault will have to be open for tonight's release. Yes, senora? Well, I'd rather not. See, my husband didn't say anything about... Don't be necessary. Romano ought to be here any minute. I'll get him to take care of it. Romano? What do you mean? Oh, didn't I tell you? I got a little worried about your husband's business trip, so I wired Romano. He's getting in this morning instead of tonight. But I... What's the matter, Mrs. Stowe? Is something wrong with that? No. No. No, excuse me, Andy. I have to go, really. But you're hurry. I'm sorry, Andy. I have to meet someone. It's a personal matter. Hello? Roddy. Roddy, I had to call. What's the matter? We can't wait till tonight. Romano's here now. Romano? Well, he wasn't coming until... I tell you, he's here. Now, we've got to go out to the ship right now. I'll meet you at the dock in an hour. Wait a minute. We can't go out there in broad daylight. There are boats going back and forth all the time with supplies and things. The gambling deck will be closed up. All right, baby. I'll have the boat ready. I'll see you at the dock. Marty. Irene. I heard something happen to you. I drove as fast as I could. Well, hop in. I'll get the line. Never mind that, senor. What? Marty. You will please turn off the motor and step onto the dock. Wait a minute. What's this all about? Please, senor. You only implicate yourself further when you present arguments to the police. Yeah. I guess you were right about Romano. We have discussed the matter at length with senor Romano. And that, of course, is why we must take you into custody. I don't know what you're talking about. I am talking about your husband's unfortunate accident. Now, you will both come without trouble. Yes? Yes, Irene. You follow him quietly to the official car waiting near the dock. Somehow, there's no surprise, no shock. You knew from the first, from the moment you looked down at Tom lying dead on the floor of his office. But you wouldn't be lucky enough to get out of this. When you arrive at the police office, there's no brow-beating, no questioning. Just a series of Mexican formalities before you and Marty are sent to separate cells to think it over. The hours pass slowly, agonizingly. At seven, another polite official brings you your dinner, but you send it back untouched. Lie down and try to sleep. Somehow, you manage to drop off for a few more hours. When you open your eyes again, the morning light is streaming in through the window, and the same polite police lieutenant is opening the door to your cell. When was this, senora? What is it now? Did they bring you the newspapers? I know what they're saying. I don't care anymore. Of course. Perhaps then you would like to give us your side of this unfortunate affair. We have spent the night discussing it with the Sunday fellow, also with your senor Kruger. I see. All right, lieutenant, I'll give it to you. All of it. I'm glad you feel that way, senora. You see, the newspapers, they might call it something else, but to us, it's murder. The Whistler will return in just a moment with the strange ending to tonight's story. At the beginning of these programs, you've heard me say, in gasoline, it takes extra quality to go farther. And of course, if you've lived out west any length of time, you know signal is the famous go-farther gasoline. But perhaps you're one of those folks who like proof. So I'd like to take just a moment now to explain what those qualities are that make signals good mileage possible. Look at it this way. If a gasoline gets extra efficiency from your motor, it naturally helps you get extra mileage, right? Well, when science increased the power of today's signal gasoline, they also gave you quicker starting, faster pickup, and quieter higher antinock. And it's because of this improved performance that you now go farther than ever with signal gasoline. That's why signal says, check your speedometer for the best yardstick of gasoline quality. You'll find it does take extra quality to go farther. And signal is the famous go-farther gasoline. Now back to the Whistler. Music Well, it's no use holding back, is there, Irene? You can tell from the lieutenant's quiet, confident manner that he knows everything. It was a long chance right from the first, from the terrible moment when you and Marty put Tom's body into that vault on the gambling ship. And you know enough about gambling to realize a long shot like that comes through once in a lifetime. So you've lost, Irene. Romano got there first and you lost. Your hand shakes as you light a cigarette. Your voice trembles a little as you finish telling the lieutenant the story. Well, that is most interesting, senora. There is so very much more in this case than we realized. What do you mean? The others gave us a slightly different version. Senora Romano, Andy, your friend Kruger. You know, senora, the sea holds many secrets. It's unfortunate you did not trouble to look at the newspapers. It might have held yours. I don't understand. I have a paper here. Oh, I'm sorry, I don't read Spanish. Oh, I must explain them that my reference to murder was an indirect one. I was speaking of the loss of 18 lives early yesterday morning aboard the Golden Chance. What do you mean, 18 lives? We believe, naturally, that as the wife of one of the owners, you were a part of the enterprise. The Golden Chance was a gambling ship in name only, senora. Its real purpose was to act as a transfer point for ammunition and high explosives. For an insurrectionist group in Central America. What? That's where the money came from. Money? It's crazy, there's smoking. I see it now. Where's the ship? What happened to it? It seems they were a little careless about the electrical wiring, senora. There was an explosion on the Golden Chance. She sank without a trace. The ship sank? The vault with Tom's body? Everything went to the bottom. I am sorry for you, senora. We pick you up on one charge, now we must prosecute on another. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler. Each Monday at 9. Brought to you by the Signal Oil Company. Marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil and fine quality automotive accessories. Signal has asked me to remind you to get the most driving pleasure, drive at sensible speeds, be courteous and obey traffic regulations. It may save a life. Possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Lureen Tuttle and Gerald Moore. The Whistler was produced by George W. Allen with story by Brian Thorn, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
