The signal oil program, the Whistler. 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. But first an important announcement. There will be no Whistler next Monday. The next Whistler will come to you a week from Wednesday, July 2nd, and every Wednesday thereafter. Same hour, same station. Only the day will change. Remember, instead of Monday, the Whistler will come to you on Wednesdays hereafter. And now the Whistler's strange story, the gentle way. The clock on the white wall showed a quarter to twelve, a half hour since Bruce Reimer had arrived in response to the summons. He was nervous now, unable to concentrate any longer on the scientific journals on the table beside his chair. It wasn't like Dr. Fenshaw to keep him waiting this way. And something in the man's voice had told him there was important news. That for the first time in the eleven years since Bruce Reimer had come to the Barker Institute of Biological Research, he was about to get a break. And it had been a long time coming. Yes, Reimer was a patient man. But there were moments during those eleven years when it looked like the breaks would never come. When he was forced to stand on the sidelines, smile politely, and congratulate the new, younger man who came and worked and picked the fat promotion. But he felt now that it had come. That now at long last Dr. Fenshaw, chairman of the board, had decided it was Reimer's turn. Would you come in, Reimer? Oh, yes, of course, Dr. Fenshaw. Sorry to have kept you waiting, Reimer. Not at all. Let's see now. You're still working on Tobacco Mosaic, aren't you? Yes, that's right. How's it coming? Well, we seem to be making some progress. Good. Jules Emery working with you? No, not at the moment. He started out with us in the field, but he's on a research problem of his own now. Oh? What's that? Well, I'm not sure exactly. I do know he was tremendously excited by Holzer's paper on toxins. He wanted to do some advanced work on Holzer's premise. Ah. Emery's a brilliant research man. Pretty unstable though, inclined to go off half-cocked. Sit down, Reimer. Thanks. Now, I presume you know Richardson has resigned as administrator. Yes, I read about it in the papers. Sick man. Job took too much out of him. We are faced now with finding a replacement. Yes, sir? We've always been pleased with your work, Reimer. That's very gratifying. I've just spoken to Cardigan about you. Cardigan? Why, he's in New York with the Manhattan Foundation. Of course. He recommended you very highly. What is Cardigan to do with... He's returning to us as the new administrator, Reimer. You will be his assistant. Oh. It's not official yet, of course, but I thought you'd be pleased to know. Yes. Yes, naturally I'm pleased, Dr. Fenchaw. Very pleased. So it's happened again, Reimer. And of all people, it had to be Cardigan, who twice now has moved past you into executive positions you wanted and deserved. Not Cardigan the charmer, the diplomat, the fair-haired boy. Yes, Reimer, of all of them, it had to be Cardigan. The hatred for Cardigan was there from the moment you met him ten years ago, Reimer. You sensed from the beginning that he had more poise, more talent, more integrity than you, that he was a better man for any job, and you hated him for it. Yes, and it's during those next few days, at a point you can't even place, that the hatred wells itself into something more concrete, into a decision to kill Cardigan with an unusual murder instrument in a clean, efficient way which could leave no trace. And the weapon you've chosen, Bruce, is a man, a highly temperamental human being named Jules Emery. Busy, Jules? Oh, Bruce, come here a minute. Take a look in the microscope here. Oh, what's this? A culture. Recognize it? No. That's a spatulinus. 24 hours ago, it was something else. This. This fluid in the test tube here. I see. But what are you... Don't you see, Reimer? It's exactly what Holzer tried to prove. This toxin is simply a stage in the life cycle of the bacillus. Well, are you certain of this? I'm certain as I'm standing here. I tell you, Bruce, this is going to change the whole concept of toxins. You, um, you told Cardigan about it? I will in a week or two. As soon as I can have my notes typed up. I, uh, I wouldn't if I were you. Why do you say that? I don't know. Uh, you and Cliff Cardigan are pretty good friends. Well, not especially. Why? Somehow I had the impression you'd known him for a long time. Long before you came to the Institute. Well, he used to go with my wife before we were married. Oh, that explains it. Explains what? What he told the board of directors when... Oh. Oh, how silly. Anyhow, congratulations on this, Jules. Well, I'd better be... Uh, wait a minute. What did Cardigan tell the board? Uh, let's forget it. Oh, Bruce, will you stop talking in riddles? What are you getting at? Well, it's only a rumor, but, uh, do you remember when Cardigan left a year ago to go to Manhattan Foundation? And you were up for administrator here? I was up for administrator? Well, I thought you knew. No. Huh. Anyway, you'd have had it if Cardigan hadn't pulled for Richardson. At least that's what I've heard. You mean he... he stopped me from getting it? Oh, don't say it's true, Jules. And Richardson was an outsider, a stranger. That's why I say it's probably only a rumor. After all, Cardigan's a friend of yours. Or, uh, anyway, a close friend of your wife. Well, I was never told I was even being considered. Well, of course you knew at this time, didn't you? No. That's funny. Well, I heard you were to be administrator and I was to be your assistant. Then Cliff Cardigan came back to town... Deliberately to take the appointment from me, is that it? No, no, take it easy, Jules. That had nothing to do with it. Cardigan simply told me he was lonesome in New York, so he came back. It seems he had a friend here. Some young lady. Oh, but I... I talk too much. Um, see you at lunch, Jules. Uh, Bruce. Yes? You don't think that... Oh, nothing. Forget it. All right. And, Jules, you forget it too, will you? With the prologue of the gentle way, the Signal Oil Company is bringing you another strange story... by the Whistler. But now a prediction about a sight you're going to see oftener and oftener as the days grow warmer. Overheated cars parked at the side of the road to let their steaming radiators cool off. 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And now back to the Whistler. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. And in the eyes of the law, you're an innocent bystander. It's only a few days after Cardigan takes over his post as administrator that you see an opportunity for move number two. Cardigan, what's this about Fairfield? You were saying... Just a second. Here, may I have a cigar? Oh, thanks. All right? All right. There we are. Bruce, it seems the fruit growers around Fairfield are pretty hard hit with scale this year. Thought I'd send someone down there to make a survey. What do you think about Lyons? Well, how long will it take? Oh, a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks? Well, Lyons is okay, but I'd suggest Jules Emory. Poor guy could stand a little fresh air. Been shut up in his laboratory for weeks working on that toxin theory of his. Toxin? Botulinus. Seems to have hit something important. Do him good to get away for a while. Well, if you think so. Tell him he leaves at the end of the week. Well, it'd be better if you'd tell him. He's been here a long time, you know. I think he rather resents taking orders from me. That's odd. I tell you what, I'm giving a little dinner at my apartment tomorrow evening. Why don't you come along? Both Jules Emory and his wife are coming. Well, fine, Bruce. I'll be happy to come. Be nice to see Grace again. She and I went to high school together, you know. We'll have a lot to talk about. Yes. Yes, I imagine you will. And then remember me trying to tell you folks the car really did run out of gas on the way home from the country club dance? They never did believe that. And I don't believe it either. Here, you better have another cocktail. Oh, no thanks, Bruce. I haven't finished this one. She can't talk and drink at the same time like I do. Thanks. Jules? Eh? Eh, no thanks, Bruce. Jules is thinking about his work again. Come on now, relax, darling. Forget your botulinous toxin for once, Jules. Well, Grace, here's to the dear dead days beyond recall. Excuse me. Was that the phone? I didn't hear anything. Well, I'd better check. Help yourself if you get thirsty. Well, what happened in New York, Cliff? Oh, wonderful city. Had an interesting job, nice salary, met some important people, but... But what? Oh, I guess my heart belongs right here. Ever going back? Oh, too lonesome. Eh, mind if I smoke, Grace? Of course not. Have a cigar, Jules? I don't smoke cigars. Nonsense. Go ahead, try one. I... I don't want to encourage a habit I can't afford, Cardigan. You see, I don't have a nice salary. I'm not a big shot who runs around with millionaires. Oh, Jules. Well, say, Cliff, has Dr. Fenshaw a personal secretary named Edith Evans? I believe so. Why? Well, that's funny. She says Fenshaw wants to see Jules and me at his home right away. Well, this time of night? Don't look at me. I don't get it either. Oh, come on, Jules. Let's go. Yes? Dr. Fenshaw is expecting us. I'm Mr. Reimer and this is Mr. Emmett. I'm very sorry, sir. But Dr. Fenshaw's not at home. He and Mrs. Fenshaw are out to dinner. See here, Bruce. What is this? Wait a minute. His secretary just called me. Miss Evans. Oh, there must be some mistake, sir. His personal secretary is a man. Roger Evans. I see. Well, thank you very much. Good night. Good night, sir. I'll tell the doctor. Oh, no, no. Never mind. I'll see him in the morning. Come on, Jules. Well, maybe this is somebody's idea of a joke getting us all the way out here. Who do you suppose called me? Why don't you ask Cardigan? What do you mean? Pretty obvious, isn't it? I'm sorry, Jules. I... He had that girl phone you. So he'd be alone with my wife. Don't be ridiculous. Why is it ridiculous? Well, for one thing, if Cardigan really wanted to be alone with Grace, he could do it a lot smoother than that. He, uh... Why, uh... He'd send you away on a field trip, for instance. It's moving now, Reimer. Of its own momentum. Yes. All you had to do was give your plan the first push and let Jules Emery take it from there. And when you and Jules arrive back at your apartment, you find both Grace and Cliff Cardigan gone. And later still, when the telephone rings, it's a very nervous Jules who snaps up the receiver. Yes? Oh, Jules, darling. Grace, where are you? I'm calling from the drugstore, dear. The car broke down. It's a fan belt or something. Why didn't you take the car out? Well, Cliff couldn't get a taxi, so I took him home. Jules, is something wrong? The gentle way, Bruce. The easy, guiltless way. Yes. You couldn't have found a better weapon than Jules, could you? The following night, he arrives home unexpectedly. Is that you, Jules? Of course. Why? When did you expect, Grace? Why, why nobody? Only I thought you had an appointment with Bruce Reimer at the institute this evening. I did. I waited an hour for him, then he called and said he couldn't make it. By the way, who's your appointment with? Mine. Are you going to tell me you've dressed up just to sit around the house and wait for me? I dressed up because I thought I'd go to a movie. Jules, what's the matter with you? Is something wrong? You can answer that question better than I can. I don't know what you mean, darling. Is there any reason why I shouldn't go to a movie? I do it all the time when you work late, you know that. All right, skivvett. But Jules... I said skivvett. Where's my pipe? Isn't it there on the table? If it were, I wouldn't be asking. I'm sure it's there. Let me look. Never mind, never mind. I found it. Here behind this vase of roses. You know, it seems to me, Grace, with all the penny-pitching we have to do, you could forego buying flowers. Jules, dear, you're in an awfully bad mood tonight. It happens I didn't buy those roses. They were sent here. Oh, yeah? Who sent them? It's very funny. The boy delivered the box around six o'clock. I didn't even know what it was. Then I opened it. There were a dozen roses, no card, no name. I haven't the slightest idea... Oh, don't give me that! Jules Emery, would you tell me what on earth is wrong with you? I'm not an idiot. I know who sent those roses to you. Cliff Cardigan. Cliff? Why would he...? He did send them, didn't he? I told you I don't know. But what if he did? I told you Cliff and I are old friends. You could make a better choice of friends, it seems to me. And what does that mean? Next time you work on our budget, next time you wonder how we're going to get along on my salary, please remember that Cliff Cardigan is the only reason I'm not administrator of Barker Institute. Jules, how long have you been brooding on this? Never mind that. You had a day to meet him tonight, didn't you? That's why you're all dressed up. That's why he sent you flowers. Jules, listen to me, darling. Oh, don't lie to me, don't lie to me. I'll answer it. Hello. Oh, hello, Jules. This is Cardigan. Yes? Say, I forgot to mention it before, old boy, but I'm sending you out of town on a little field trip. There's not much left for you to do now, is there, Bruce? As you see Jules off on the train to Fairfield the next morning, you can see that your weapon is poised, ready to strike at the innocent Cardigan. In a few days, perhaps a week alone, brooding in a drab country hotel will finish the job. There's no one to let Jules know what's happening except you, and you know how to handle that. Calligram, sir, from Fairfield. Oh, thank you. Any answer? No. No answer. Yes? Fairfield calling. A person-to-person call for Mr. Bruce Reimer. Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. Reimer isn't at home. And just to make sure, Bruce, one last item. The finishing touch. Thanks, World Press Association. Oh, good evening. This is Dr. Harvey Williams of Barker Institute. I thought perhaps you might be interested in an important discovery we've made. Why, of course, Doctor. Thank you very much. The concern's a very deadly type of toxin called botulinus. Hello? What? Oh, yes, yes, just a second. Who is it? It's Jules. Jules Emmerich. Jules, what in the name of... I've got to talk to you, Bruce. It's two in the morning. What are you doing in town? I just got in. Where's Grace? Grace? Yes, where is she? What's been going on? Why didn't you answer my wire? I told you once, Jules, I don't want to become involved in your personal affairs. Questions you asked were none of my business. You aren't man enough to settle your own problems. Never mind the lecture. Where is she? Grace? Well, I understand she's gone to visit her mother. You're lying. You're lying to protect her. All I know is what Grace told me. What about Cardigan? Where is he? At home, I suppose. I've been there. He isn't home. Oh, I remember now. He went on a weekend trip. Where? I don't know. But I believe he said he'd be back around five or six this morning. If you're so eager to find out where he's been, why don't you wait for him? I intend to. You see this? What? Take a look at the newspaper here. Cardigan taking credit for... Yes. All my work and botch are in it. He says it's his discovery. How could the paper make a mistake like that? There's no mistake. It's a press association dispatch. But how else? Released by someone called Harvey Williams. There's no such person here. Cardigan went through my note, rather. He released the story himself. Oh, now wait a minute. I've been all the waiting I intend to do. Oh, that's a terrible accusation. He's stolen everything from me. My job, my wife, and now this. I... I can't believe... Reimer, I... I'm going to kill him. Come in. Well, Dr. Fanshaw. I didn't expect to find you here in Cardigan's office. Where's Cardigan, by the way? Sit down, Reimer. Huh? What's the matter? I've been waiting for you. Something terrible has happened. What do you mean? Cardigan is dead. What? He was killed last night from passerby. I found him in front of his apartment. Cranial injuries, a blow on the head or something. Good heavens. I... I just can't believe... I know. It's left me a little shaken, too. Got a cigarette? No, no, I'm sorry. I left them on my desk in my office. But Cardigan keeps some good cigars here somewhere. No, no. Oh, here they are. No, thanks. His brand was always too strong for me. I'd pick up some cigarettes on the way downtown. Do it a meeting. Business as usual, you know. Huh. Cardigan. Poor devil. You may as well stay here in Cardigan's office, Reimer. Have to take over his work for the time being. Oh, yes, of course. Might be a week or ten days before I can get the board together. And I'll have you officially appointed administrator. I'll be happy to do what I can. I appreciate that, Reimer. I'll try to look in again sometime this afternoon. Well, Cardigan, old boy, mind if I smoke one of your cigars? Bruce Rime... This is the administrator's office. Is this Mr. Cardigan's office? Yes, yes, Bruce Reimer speaking. Oh, Mr. Reimer, you're the man I'm trying to locate. This is police headquarters, Lieutenant Owen Smith. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm trying to locate. This is police headquarters, Lieutenant Owen speaking. Yes? We're holding a man here who's confessed to the murder of Mr. Cardigan. He says you know him. His name is Jules Emery. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story. Meantime, since the Whistler changes to Wednesday nights, beginning with our next broadcast, I want to make it clear just what the new schedule of the Whistler will be. There will be no Whistler next Monday. The next Whistler will come to you one week from this coming Wednesday on July 2nd, and every Wednesday thereafter. The hour remains the same, 8 p.m. Pacific Coast time, 9 p.m. Mountain time. Only the day has been changed to Wednesdays. And I might add, in appreciation of your loyalty, which has made this the most popular of all Pacific Coast programs, Signal Oil Company will continue to broadcast the Whistler without interruption throughout the summer. So be sure to tune in the Whistler for our next broadcast one week from this coming Wednesday. Same hour, same CBS station, and every Wednesday thereafter. And now back to the Whistler. Music Yes, Bruce, it was the gentle way that did the trick. In everything you wanted is yours now, with no strings attached, no embarrassing questions, no way the law can touch you. Jules Emory is a confessed killer now. Cardigan is dead. And Dr. Fenshaw himself has promised you your appointment as administrator. And it was so easy, wasn't it? A word here, a hint there, a box of roses, a few unanswered telegrams. And here you are sitting at Cardigan's desk, smoking one of his cigars, ready to tell Lieutenant Owens how you tried to reason with Jules Emory, and tried to convince him he should forget his raging jealousy and go back to Fairfield. Go on, Lieutenant. Well, about this guy, Jules Emory, we don't know what's wrong with him, but we're calling a doctor for a checkup. A doctor? Yes, he certainly tells a weird story. We're holding him on a charge of intent to murder. Intent? But you, you just said he confessed. He did. He was sure he'd murdered Cardigan. You seem to know Cardigan was run down in front of his house by a hit-and-run driver. What? I'm afraid I don't understand. How do you know it was a driver? Because we got the driver and he confessed. The reason I called you, Mr. Ryder, you're in Cardigan's office now, aren't you? Yes. Emory just told us he invented some kind of deadly poison. Botulinus. That's it. He says one drop would kill a regiment, and I just wanted to warn you. Warn me? Yes. Don't smoke any of Cardigan's cigars. They're full of that poison. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, The Whistler, which will come to you every Wednesday hereafter, beginning July 2nd, one week from this coming Wednesday. The Whistler is 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 Willard Waterman and Howard McNair. The Whistler was produced by George W. Allen with story by Jack Hasty, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. Marvin Miller speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
