Yes, friends, that whistle is your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler, the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because you know who's guilty. You see his every move. You know his complete plan. And the final curtain always brings a startling surprise in 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 the Whistler for the tops in entertainment. And for the tops in gasoline quality, it's Signal. It takes extra quality, you know, to give you extra mileage. And Signal is the famous go farther gasoline. So look for the Signal circle sign in yellow and black that identifies friendly independent signal stations from Canada to Mexico. And now the Whistler's strange story. Whirlpool. He wasn't sure when it began. It was too much like walking in the middle of a nightmare and then remaining in it, living in it. The shipwreck, the confusion. It was all there again coming back to him. But slowly, hazily. And there was a strange buzzing in his ears, pressure and the sound of the sea. A whirlpool of confusion. And then gradually out of the whirlpool, voices, dimly, faintly at first, but voices growing, coming closer and closer. Is he coming around? He'll be all right, Captain. It's the shock. His exhaustion. But through it all, one thing seemed clear in focus. Those few swift minutes before the ship peeled over on its side, before he leaped for the lifeboat and missed. There was a girl, yes a girl, standing in the companionway just outside her cabin. He remembered her face, her fair skin, her clear eyes wild as he shouted at her frantically. Hey, don't stand there. Get up to the deck, the lifeboat. Boats? Oh yes, I was just... Wait, is there anybody inside in the cabin? The cabin? There is? No. No, I'm alone. Then go on up these stairs. There isn't much time. Hurry. There isn't much time. Yeah, why is Devel going through it all over again? He's better though, he's coming around, Captain. Hastings, Mr. Hastings. Why? Mr. Hastings, now you're safe. They got you on time. Can you hear me? I'm the ship's doctor. You're on board the SS Aragwan bound for Singapore. SS Aragwan. That's right. Singapore. Here, try to drink this Mr. Hastings. Easy. That's it. I'm all right. I made it, I made it. You sure did, Hastings. Hastings? There couldn't be any mistake about his identity, Captain. No, no, that's who he is. He's Hastings' doctor, there's no doubt about it. The girl says so. She's his wife. Oh, I see. Could you get her to come in here, Captain? My wife? No, I... Now, now, now, just relax. You're suffering from shock, Mr. Hastings, exhaustion and severe shock. Oh, my God. Could you come in, Mrs. Hastings? My husband, is he all right, Captain? Just come in, please. Oh, I haven't any. You stop, Marty. The protests dying in your throat as you struggle up to the top of the mountain. You're not going to get away with this. You're going to get away with this. You're going to get away with this. You're going to get away with this. You're going to get away with this. You stop, Marty, the protests dying in your throat as you struggle up to one elbow and look toward the door. It's the same girl, isn't it? The one you faced in the companion way and shouted at. But now she's coming toward you, speaking differently. Very different. My darling, I was so afraid for you. But I told them we'd pull through when I told them who you were. Why? I... Doctor, he isn't delirious. Oh, no, don't worry, Mrs. Hastings. Mrs. Hastings. Yes, dear. Doctor. Oh, yes, Mr. Hastings? Can you... Would you leave us alone a minute? Why, surely. I want to... want to be with my wife. Certainly. Captain, we'll wait out on deck. Anything you say. Okay. Now, you want to tell me what it's all about? Darling, you shouldn't try to talk. Skip it, I can talk. They fished me out. I'm okay, see, okay. Of course you are, dear. And the name's South. Like this or in a full-dress suit. It's South. Marty South. It's a nice name. I like it. That's fine. And you're... Mrs. Stephen Hastings of the Shanghai Hastings. You can call me Lucille. What about Mr. Hastings? My husband is dead. One that didn't make it? One that didn't make it. What happened to him? He was in a coma. He was in a coma. He was in a coma. He was in a coma. He was in a coma. He was in a coma. He was in a coma. He was in a coma. He was in a coma, he was faithless and useless. And his brain died. And his brain died. So, you were the one that made it. Why did they make it? Why did they make it? What happened to him? How come... I don't know. Stop asking me. Stop looking at me like that. Like what? He was like that. Stephen, in the cabin. When the first heard the alarm. He just sat there staring. And you ran out, left him. No, he wouldn't budge. As if he didn't want to. As if he welcomed it. Welcome what? A chance to die? I don't know. You couldn't get baby. No. Couldn't send anybody back. I didn't think there was something like that happening. I couldn't think. But you've been thinking since. Yes. Plenty, I'll bet. Well, come on, I'm waiting. My husband, Stephen, has money coming to him. It's waiting for him now in Singapore. Waiting for a Mr. Hastings to pick it up. Any Mr. Hastings will do. 30,000 now, 30,000 in a couple of weeks. 50,000 altogether. Half of it could be yours, Marty. Oh, you're crazy. To begin with, how can you pass me off as your husband here on board? There are quite a few survivors I've heard. Nobody knew him. He stayed in his cabin half the voyage. Most of the others were picked up by the Khalifa. We'll see them in Singapore. No, we won't. The Khalifa's heading for the United States and we don't know a soul in Singapore. Where does this money come from? From an old friend in Shanghai, E.J. Galloway, former business partner of my husband's. You see, E.J. made a mistake once. Business deal in Singapore. I found out about it. I told Stephen what to ask for. He did. He got results. Shake down, huh? He must have felt great giving his old pal a blackmail pitch. Oh, he didn't have to do that. E.J. doesn't know we're the blackmailers. He thinks Stephen is the go-between to pick up the money in Singapore and make the payoff there. You see, that's where the blackmailer lives. Nice guy, your husband. He was, as a matter of fact, but weak. Terribly weak. No, he almost got sick sometimes just thinking about it, about blackmailing his old friend. And why'd he go ahead with it? He liked me. Why? No, you don't mean that. I can be quite appealing. Maybe. The guys like Stephen Hastings. Not the guys like Marty South. You guessed it. How about running along? All right. Oh, wait a minute. Yes? That boat, when it was sinking, did somebody come up to you ask if there was anybody else in the cabin? I don't remember. With excitement, you know. Yeah, I know. Okay. That's all for now? That's all for any time. We'll see. If you get lonesome for me, darling, Stephen, just tell the doctor. That's all, Marty, and then she's gone. Leaving you to think it over. But you know her kind. Lucille is a man traveler, and you figure she'll be back soon to try to help you make up your mind. But that's where you make a mistake, isn't it, Marty? Because she doesn't come back. Not in a few hours, not even that night. She just leaves you alone. And the next morning, you can hear her outside asking about you. How is he, doctor? He's much better. Oh, I'm so glad, but I think I'll just let him rest. Yes, Marty. She lets you rest and think. At first, you find yourself strangely curious. Then you think some more, and you don't say anything else to them about not being her husband. Steven Hastings. Then a half a day out of Singapore, you can't stand it anymore. You call the doctor and send for her. Dear, you're sitting up, how wonderful. I'm doing better than that. I'm pacing the floor. Oh? Don't look as if you don't know why, Lucille. Oh, it's Lucille now. How nice when you say it. Don't you, uh, you want to know what I've decided? I know. Yeah? You like money, Marty. You know, I think you like me. A little, hmm? You hit it with the first part. But get this, I know what I'm going into. It includes you only because you're necessary to my immediate prosperity. I'm very necessary to her. So is your having a husband, Steven. Okay, I'll keep him alive for a while. Darling, I knew you would. Uh-uh. You're a pretty smart gal, but here's something you don't know. Your husband made a big mistake when he fell in love with you. I'm not going to make the same mistake. I can't afford to. Oh? I never let love interfere with my plans. It's bad business. Oh, uh, everything all right, Mrs. Haseley? What? Oh, yes, fine, Doctor. Isn't it, dear? I guess so. Sure it is. And don't worry, darling, you'll feel better. Everything's going to be so much better soon. With the prologue of Whirlpool, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange story by The Whistler. But now, since this is only our second broadcast at this new Sunday evening time, I have a message, especially for you new friends of The Whistler. If you've lived out West any length of time, you know that Signal is known from Canada to Mexico as the go-farther gasoline. Now naturally, we're mighty proud of Signal's famous mileage, but even more so, we're proud of the extra efficiency today's signal gasoline coaxes from your motor, which makes such mileage possible. But when your motor runs more efficiently, you also enjoy quicker starting, faster pickup, and smoother knock-free power, the things which make driving more fun. That's why folks who want superior performance, as well as those who insist on mileage, are both switching to Signal. They've discovered that to get the tops in gasoline quality, there are just two things to remember. One, in gasoline, it takes extra quality to go farther. And two, Signal is the famous go-farther gasoline. Now back to The Whistler. You made a decision, didn't you, Marty, about Lucille Hastings and the money waiting for Stephen Hastings in Singapore, when she suddenly thrust opportunity into your hands by asking you to pose as her dead husband, Stephen Hastings. But there's another thing you've decided on, and that's more important than anything else. You're not going to make the same mistake he did, are you, Marty? No, you're not going to fall in love with Lucille, because that doesn't fit in with your plans at all. Money is the most important thing, isn't it? It always has been, even though you don't have much of it at the moment. And you've never let a woman interfere. You've never let your heart rule your head where money is concerned. The next night in Singapore, the two of you move easily around the dance floor of the Port Plaza Hotel. A devoted married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Hastings. You dance well, do you? Stephen's learned to dance better? Oh, very much better. Maybe the poor guy was tired. He had a right to be. I think we should stop talking about that. Suits me. Let's talk about when we go to work. Let's see. I think we'd best wait a day or two. You can go there Wednesday for the first payment. Second will be ready in a couple of weeks. E.J. couldn't raise it all at once. Where do I go? I'll have to look at E.J.'s letter again for the exact address. It's a little tailor shop somewhere on Ponderosa Street. You don't have to look again. Not with that memory. It's a tailor shop. Why Wednesday? No reason. I just think it's best. All right? Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. I don't get all this mystery. There isn't any mystery, I told you. If Galloway stood still for a 50 grand shakedown, why didn't he just give it to you or send it to you direct? Why all this movie stuff? This was my idea, not E.J.'s. You see, in case E.J. couldn't raise the money or changed his mind or decided to talk with the authorities, I thought it would be much better for me if I were far away. With me for the fall guy, if anything goes wrong here. Nothing can go wrong here. There's no crime in having your coat pressed. What do I do when I get to this tailor shop? Like I said, you just have your coat pressed. You can wait for it if you want to. Tell them you're Mr. Hastings. What if they want proof? They can call the hotel and ask Mrs. Hastings, but they won't. Relax, darling. Sorry, I can't relax. Not till I've had my coat pressed. Good morning, sir. I want to get this coat pressed. I'll wait. Oh, the name's Hastings. Oh, yes. And you're staying... The Port Plaza. Why? Nothing, Mr. Hastings, just curious. If you were going to call or anything, my wife isn't there, she stepped out. No, no, Mr. Hastings. The coat, please. I'll have it for you right away. Good. You watch the proprietor of the little tailor shop as he takes your coat, moves off toward the back of the establishment. You look around nervously, ready to run for it if anything goes wrong. But nothing does, Marty. He's back in a matter of minutes, handing the freshly pressed coat across the counter. You pay him and slip it on and feel the bulge of a heavy envelope in the inside pocket. Satisfactory, sir? I think so, thanks. Will you be dropping in again? Yeah, sure. Perhaps if you'd call the day before. Call. Okay. We'll give you quick service, sir. Good morning. Good morning. Half a block away, you open the envelope and look inside. It's there, Marty. $20,000 in crisp unmarked bills. Half of it's yours. The payoff, just as Lucille described it. You smile as you put it away because you're thinking how easy it would be to quit right now. Walk out on Lucille cold. But there's still another payoff. Another $30,000. It would be stupid of you to walk out now, wouldn't it? And then your pulse quickens and you glance back. There's someone following you, Marty. And you realize that Lucille is still thinking as fast as ever. That she's guessed that you might pick up the money a day earlier and not wait until Wednesday. You turn, hurry down the street on your way back to the hotel. Well, darling, you don't have to knock the door down. My own husband, all the neighbors think. Never mind, inside. What's all the excitement? What kind of a double cross is this? Double cross? That's a funny way to put it. Not to me. You had me followed, didn't you? Did I? The fat guy in the white suit right out of the book. You're quaint. Stop it, Lucille. Don't give me that ice cube stare. I'm not Stephen. Not so loud, darling. Someone might believe you. You're going to tell me what's going on? When you calm down, you might tell me. I went there, like you said. Tailor shop? Yeah, I went through the routine. Didn't they give you the money? That's not the beef, Lucille. I'm talking about the guy who picked me up on the way out. One of your pals, huh? A high-powered insurance policy. You're not making sense, darling. Somebody followed you. It's because you're in Singapore. Stay out of alleys, darling. Rough neighborhood. This is a big, bad city. I wish I could buy that. You can buy anything, Mr. Hastings. How much did you get? Twenty thousand. Here, it's in the envelope. Pretty, isn't it? Darling. Yeah? Speaking of double clauses, I thought I told you not to go to the tailor shop until tomorrow. I'll forgive you this time. No, you won't. Well, I'll try, I'll... What are you thinking? Something pretty foolish. But sometimes you'd really like to level. Marty, darling, put your arms around me. What, so I can hold on for the sleigh ride? I wouldn't take you on a sleigh ride. Not you. You'd take your mother on one. Don't hate me, Marty. Not now. Not this minute. Here I go, huh? Well, my back's against the door anyway. Marty, Marty. Tell her. Too bad it's not for keeps, Lucille. Let's not talk about for keeps. Let's think about now. Right now. Yeah, right now. Only admit it. Tomorrow it could be a knife in my back. All right, if that's the way you want me to say it. But right now, kiss me, Marty, kiss me. Your mind is spinning as you leave her, Marty. Go down to the cocktail bar for a drink, and then another one. In a way, it's like fighting up to the surface, isn't it? Trying to struggle out of the whirlpool that keeps pulling you down. You're afraid, aren't you, Marty? Because the one thing you've tried to guard against is happening. Slowly, surely, you're falling for her, and you know what it can mean. You don't do anything about it the next day or in the days that follow. Just go along trying to keep your head above water. And then one night as you walk alone through the streets of Singapore, you catch sight of him again, the man she's had following you. You hurry forward, turn into an alley, stop and wait. Here I am, mister. What do you want? What do you want? Take it easy, Mr. Hastings. Just wanted to talk it over. Talk what over? The deal, I thought maybe you'd change your mind of where you've been acting, avoiding me. Of course, this is a crazy setup. I naturally thought you were going to meet me when you got in last week to set it all up. Oh, yeah, naturally, but I almost forgot what you looked like. You didn't know what I looked like. You never seen me before. You made a deal with a guy I worked for, remember? I think you'd better keep talking, Mr. Gray's good enough. Mr. Gray. It might be. I don't blame you for being careful, Mr. Hastings, a screwy deal like this. But how's it sound to you? You take your wife to the Red Angel Cafe tomorrow night, just casual, I see. You have dinner with her, the last one, and then you stroll out on the terrace. The terrace? Yeah, nobody out there much. Just give me a chance to get lined up and then light a cigarette. That should give me a target, an easy one. Well, what do you know? Steven. It hits you suddenly. Steven Hastings, the weakling. He actually set up a plan to kill her at the end of the voyage, a plan that he was too weak to go through with. It's perfect, isn't it? You can get rid of Lucille tomorrow night, and a few days later, you can drop around to the tailor shop, pick up the rest of the money and leave town. But you're not sure that this is the way you want it to be, not even for $50,000. What's the matter, Mr. Hastings? You changed your mind? Changed my mind? Well, I'd like a little more time to think it over. Look, I've been doing some traveling. I want the $5,000 that you agreed to pay my employer, Mr. Hastings. $5,000? Yeah. Okay, you'll get it. I'll leave it in your hotel box, small, new bills, cash. Sure. Mr. Gray. Yeah? If the money's in the box tomorrow night, you'll see us, my wife and me, at the Red Angel Cafe. On the terrace? Yeah. I'm to light her cigarette. Darling, how did you know about this place? The Red Angel? Oh, I heard somebody mention it. Like it? Very much. And I like you for bringing me. We'll see you later. You want to talk? Come on. What are you doing? Out on the terrace. Oh, but... Okay, on the terrace. You see the lights in the harbor. Beautiful. Yeah. Marty, you were going to tell me something inside? Yeah, I... I was. I think I know what it is. You know, Marty, you're not like Stephen at all. You're anything but weak, except when it comes to putting this sort of thing into words. Give me a cigarette, darling. What? Oh, so give me a cigarette. Anything wrong with that? No, no. Nothing wrong. Here. Here you are. Thank you, Marty. And just the way you're looking now tells me something. You do love me, don't you? I don't know. Do I? Would you give me a light? A light? Sure. You're really beautiful, Lucille. Marty. You're something I'll... I'll never forget. Here. Here's your light. Thank you, darling. Thank you, Marty. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story. Meantime, a suggestion to drivers. The colder nights and mornings that we'll be having from now on place an extra strain on your car's battery. So now is a good time to stop by a signal service station for a free battery inspection. If it appears that anything is going to interfere with your cold weather starting, your signal dealer is equipped to give you complete battery service. For recharging, he has new type safe speedy equipment. If your cables are corroded, he can replace them with heavy duty cables. And should you need a new battery, there's none finer than Signal's new deluxe batteries that are guaranteed not for just 12 or 18 months, but for 30 months on a service basis. Incorporating the latest type all rubber separators plus a new design hard rubber case, these Signal deluxe batteries deliver up to 35% more power and don't need water nearly as often. So before you get any battery, get your signal dealer's trade in offer for your old battery plus his convenient credit terms on today's finest battery, the new Signal deluxe battery available only at signal service stations. And now back to the Whistler. It was like a whirlpool, the shipwreck, the swirling waters, Marty South fighting his way through the sea, awakening to find a new life and wealth placed in his hand by Lucille Hastings. But somehow in the police station at Singapore, that part of the story was a little concerned as the arresting officers huddled around a man sitting under the glaring white light. Come on, Gray. We know you did it. No. You've been followed since you asked for that money in Hastings Hotel Box. The clerk didn't like your looks. Look, I told you Mr. Hastings gave me the money. He left it for me. What was it for? The killing? Gray, you were seen firing the gun. How do you think we arrested you so quickly? All right, all right, all right. I did it. But it was a plan. Hastings' plan. He was tired of his wife? He must have been tired of everything. But he was a weakling. Suicide's been on his mind for months, only he didn't have a nerve. So he hired us, me, to do it for him. But why his wife, too? How do I know? Hastings was crazy about her, I guess. Didn't want anyone else to have her. That's the only reason I can think of why Hastings set this deal for them to both die together. Let that whistle be your signal for the Signal Oil program, The Whistler, each Sunday night at the same time. 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. Stored in tonight's story were Jack Moyles and Betty Lou Gerson. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Joel Malone and music by Wilbur Hatch and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. Remember at the same time next Sunday, another strange tale by The Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
