And now stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because even when you know who is guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the Signal Oil Program, the Whistler. Signal, the famous go-farther gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by 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. And now for the Signal Oil Company, the Whistler's strange story, A Helping Hand. The huge and sprawling Quinlan Estate, settled far back in the Bel Air Hills, was dark and quiet. Suddenly the stillness of the night was shattered by the sound of a pistol shot. Kirk Gordon, wearing a trench coat, his hat pulled down low, clutched a small bag in his hand as he rushed from the house. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then started sprinting across the broad lawn toward the main gate. The caretaker, completing his evening rounds, had whirled around at the shot, and seeing the fleeing figure on the lawn, hurried quickly to intercept him. Hey, hey you there, what's going on? Without slackening his speed, Kirk Gordon flung himself at the caretaker, and the two men fell to the ground. In the darkness the struggle went on, until finally Kirk swung his fist full into the caretaker's face, broke free, and scooping up the small black bag he ran down the road. Stop! Stop right you! Stop! Kirk Gordon dove into the brush, hugged the ground, holding the small black bag under him. The perfect crime isn't so perfect after all, is it, Kirk? No, Kirk, it isn't going according to your plan at all, is it? You know the caretaker didn't recognize you, but it's too late to undo the clumsy way you've handled the job that was going to be so simple, so foolproof. You make your way to your car, drive along the driveway to a small bridge on the estate, hide the bag under one of the supports, drive into the village, spend a suitable amount of time, and then drive back to the Quinlan estate. What is it, officer? Hey, who are you? Me? Why, uh... What are you doing here? I live on the Quinlan estate. I work for old man, I mean, Mr. Quinlan. I see. Oh, what's the idea of the roadblock? It's been a robbery, a murder. What? Someone rifled Quinlan's safe and killed him. Killed him? Good Lord. When did this happen? A little over an hour ago. The caretaker at the estate called us right after it happened. They don't think the killer will get away. We've got a fast start on him. You mean, you think he's still in the area? There's a good chance he is. Oh, I see. Well, okay. You can go up now, Mr. uh... Uh, Gordon. Kirk Gordon. Well, let me see, Lieutenant. I guess I left the house here shortly after seven. Mr. Quinlan was in the study. Alone? Yes. Okay, go on. Well, I drove into Westwood, saw a movie, had a Coca-Cola, and here I am. Uh-huh. As his secretary, you'd know if anyone had an appointment with Quinlan here this evening, wouldn't you? Yes, that's right. But there wasn't any appointment that I know of. I see. Uh, any idea what was in the safe, Mr. Gordon? It's been wiped clean. Oh, some business papers. Uh, Mr. Quinlan owned the Quinlan Chemical Company in Long Beach. Oh, there were vouchers, canceled checks, bills. Oh, you know the sort of thing. And money? Oh, not much. A few thousand, I'd say. Huh. I guess the killer didn't get very much. Hello, Kirk. Oh. Oh, Mr. Phelps. I just heard the news. Got up here as quickly as I could. Uh, Lieutenant Riggs, this is Mr. Phelps, Mr. Quinlan's lawyer. How do you do? Lieutenant, I understand the caretaker almost caught the killer. Yeah, almost. Well, in the struggle that took place, was he able to... No, it was too dark. He couldn't identify the man. I see. Lieutenant, this has been quite a shock to me. Mr. Quinlan was not only a client, he was also a dear friend, a very dear friend. We've got to catch this killer. If there's anything I can do... Well, for the moment, if you'll just answer a few questions. Yes, of course. Well, if you don't need me anymore, Lieutenant, I think I'll go up to my room. Run along, Mr. Gordon, and thanks. Oh, and, Kirk, we'll have to get together in the morning. I'll need your help in going over Mr. Quinlan's affairs. Yes, of course, Mr. Phelps. Good night. Upstairs in your room, you slump wearily into a chair, then slowly remove the glove from your right hand, stare at the bruised, swollen knuckles. After the police lieutenant and Phelps have gone and the house is quiet, you hurry back to your car, drive into town to a small, remote, remote, remote place. You're not alone. You're not alone. You hurry back to your car, drive into town to a small bar on the Sunset Strip. Kirk, Kirk over here. Oh. Hello, Janice. Sit down, darling. I thought you'd never get here. What kept you? I ran into trouble, a lot of it. What happened? Quinlan's dead. What? Quiet, keep it down. Yeah, he caught me in the study when I was cleaning out the safe. Oh, Kirk. I tried to get the gun away from him and, well... But, but I thought... Yeah, yeah, it was just going to be a simple robbery. No one would get hurt. Well, it didn't turn out that way. The checks, did you get them? Yeah, but I had to hide the bag. I didn't want to take the chance of getting caught with it. Kirk, I knew something would go wrong. I just knew it. You'd only listen to me and waited. We could have found some other way. I couldn't wait, I tell you. I had to get those checks out of the safe before morning. The old man suspected I'd been dipping into the till, I'm sure of it. Why else had he set up that meeting with Phelps? Could have been about something else. No, no, no. Quinlan was wise, I know. All he had to do was go over those cancelled checks, find the right ones, and compare them with the vouchers on the Hinton account. Kirk, you said you'd hidden the bag. He had the police behind it. The police, now they won't. See, there's a stone bridge about a half a mile down the road on the estate. It's under there, under the supports. Oh, come on, honey, let's have a drink and stop worrying. Oh, Kirk. Kirk, darling, if anything happened to you... Oh, nothing's going to happen to me, sweetheart. No, sir, not a thing. Yes, Kirk, you're certain no one suspects that you're the killer. And your confidence grows, doesn't it? Until the following morning when Phelps arrives at the estate. Only a few minutes after he's come into the study, you find yourself becoming tense and tense, uneasy. You know, Kirk, it's rather strange. What is it, Mr. Phelps? This robbery. Well, what about it? Well, doesn't it seem odd? I mean, why did the killer take everything from the safe? Obviously, he was only interested in the money. Well, the caretaker said he was carrying a bag. He probably just swept everything in it. Shall we get back on these accounts, Mr. Phelps? Yes, in a minute. There's something I want to ask you. Yes? Mr. Quinlan called me on the phone the other night, asked me to come around and see him this morning. Said it is very important. Have you any idea what it was about? No, I'm afraid not. Somehow I was under the impression you were to be at our little meeting, too. Mr. Quinlan didn't mention anything to me about it. I see. It, uh... Yeah, it probably had to do with that lawsuit the two of you were discussing the other day. Oh, yes, perhaps that was it. Well, I suppose we might as well get started with the business at hand, hmm? You find it difficult to concentrate on the work before you, don't you, Kirk? Because a thought keeps boring into your mind. The thought that Quinlan might possibly have conveyed his suspicion of you to Phelps. And you wonder how much he knows. The fear and the panic is back now. Grows as the day wears on. And then finally in the late afternoon. Well, I guess we can close up shop for the day, Kirk. We'll meet in the morning again. Let's make it at my office, hmm? All right, Mr. Phelps. Oh, Kirk, I couldn't help noticing several times during the day. What's happened to your hand? My hand? Oh, that. Oh, it's just bunged up a little. Let me see. Hmm, looks like you've been in a brawl somewhere. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to touch it. Pretty badly bruised, isn't it? Silly thing. I stumbled and fell. It'll be okay in a day or so. I hope so. You'll have quite a little writing to do. Oh, it's not as bad as it looks. I hope not. The quicker we can get through with all this, the better. Don't worry about me, Mr. Phelps. I won't slow things down. I'll handle everything I have to. Don't let it happen to your car. 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Two good reasons to change your oil now at a Signal service station and use only Signal Premium, the new heavy duty type oil that reduces engine wear due to lubrication 50%. Music You hope your story about the injury to your hand was convincing, but you're worried, aren't you Kurt, really worried. Not sure of Mr. Phelps at all, not certain that he suspects you staged the robbery at the Quinlan Estate to destroy evidence that you were embezzling from your employer and that you killed him. A moment after Phelps has left the study, you stand at the window and watch him walk out to his car. Phone rings Yes? Hello darling. Oh, Janice. How did it go today? Oh, all right I guess. Phelps was here, he just left. We've been trying to straighten out the old man's affairs. Will I see you tonight? Sure, sure, I'll be at your place around seven or so. All right darling. Oh, and I'll have that little item we were discussing last night. You're bringing it to me? Yeah, yeah, I think I'd better. Sorry to disturb you, Kirk. Almost went off without my briefcase. Oh, there it is Mr. Phelps, on the desk. Oh yes, thank you. See you in the morning, Kirk. Yes. Kirk, Kirk who was that? That was Phelps, forgot his briefcase. Do you think he suspected anything? No, I don't think so. I was pretty careful about what I said. Well, I don't know. Music Your plans have suddenly changed, aren't they Kirk? Yes, it would be too risky to go after the small black bag tonight. Because you're not certain whether Phelps overheard your telephone conversation. And if he did, whether he was suspicious of what you said. You were careful, yes. But that evening as you dine with Janice, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. And that feeling stays with you in the evenings that follow, wherever you go. Someone's watching you, Kirk, your every move. Yes, night after night. It's a strain, isn't it? Hard on the nerves. Just as the working days are at the office with Phelps by your side. Kirk, we'll be finished with this work in a few days. Any plans for the future? Well, to start with, I'd like to take a nice long vacation. Say a few months. A few months? Well, that's nice if you can afford it. And I suppose you can. Must have some money hidden away somewhere, eh? As a matter of fact, Mr. Phelps, I have. Oh, Ella. Yes, Mr. Phelps? Mr. Gordon and I are going out to lunch now. Be back around one or so. Yes, sir. By the way, Ella, I wish you'd talk to Mr. Gordon. Tell him about our happy little family here at the office. That I'm not such a slave driver. Or am I? Of course not. I've been trying to get him to come to work for us, Ella, but he's turned me down. Well, and I'd better warn you, Mr. Gordon. Oh, really, Ella? My boss is a very persistent man. He always gets what he goes after. And if he's made up his mind that he's going to get you, he will. I don't think so, Ella. I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you, Kirk. It's his way of letting you know, isn't it, Kirk? Making it quite clear to you that he knows what you've done. That he's going to trap you sooner or later. He's a dangerous, clever man, yes. And you've got to be on your guard at all times. That same evening when you stop by Janice's apartment, she seems quite upset. Kirk. What's the matter? I think someone was searching the apartment while I was out. Are you sure? Yes. Yes, I'm certain the door was locked when I left. It wasn't when I came in just a few minutes ago. Well, are you sure you didn't forget to... No, I'm positive the door was locked when I left. And listen, Kirk, I just called the man on the elevator, you know, Freddie, and asked him if he'd brought anyone up to my floor while we were gone. Well? He had brought someone up. A man. Tall, slender and grey hair. That sounds like... Phelps. Oh, but wait a minute. I can't see Phelps picking a lock. Oh, look, it could have been someone else. Kirk, I'm scared. What could he want here? The bag. Maybe he thinks... Kirk, you've got to go out there to the bridge and find the bag and destroy everything that's in it. Oh, no, that's probably just what he wants me to do. Look, I'm positive he's been watching me like a hawk the past few days. Everywhere I go, every move I make, he's always around. If I made a move for that bag, he'd nail me. Now, Janice, that bag stays right where it is. Morning, Mr. Gordon. Morning, Ella. Mr. Phelps in his office? No, but I'm expecting him back soon. Why don't you go on in? Thanks, I think I will. It's Mr. Phelps now. Morning, Ella. Morning. Oh, Kirk. Hope I haven't kept you waiting. I'm glad you got here, Mr. Phelps. Fine, fine. Come along. Let's go in. Oh, Mr. Phelps. Yes? Mr. McCallum was in to see you while you were out. McCallum? McCallum? Floyd McCallum. He said it concerned Mr. Quinlan. It seems he was working for him. Oh? Kirk, do you know anything about it? McCallum. That name sounds familiar, but I... He said he was a private investigator. Private investigator? Well, well, I wonder what Mr. Quinlan wanted with a private eye. Is he coming back, Ella? He said he'd be out all afternoon, that he'd try to reach you at home late this evening. If he wasn't able to, he wanted you to call him at this number in the morning. Well, just put that note with those papers you're working on. I'll take them with me when I leave the office. Yes, sir. All right, Kirk. Let's get to work, shall we? Kirk. What? Oh, sure, Mr. Phelps. Sure, sure. You remember McCallum, don't you, Kirk? The short, heavy-set man who came around to the estate several times during the last month. Talked in private with Quinlan. But you didn't know then that he was a private investigator, did you? And now you wonder why he was hired, if it had anything to do with you, and why he seemed so anxious to talk to Phelps. You hurry to Janice's apartment. Oh, Kirk, you're early. I wasn't expecting you to... We've already made our little dates off for tonight, Janice. I'm going to be busy. Oh? Yeah. Now I've got something else to worry about besides Phelps, a guy named Floyd McCallum. Who's he? Private Eye old man Quinlan hired. I found out about it this morning. Private Eye? Oh, Kirk, do you think... I don't know what to think. This thing's driving me crazy. Everything's gone wrong. First it was Quinlan showing up at the wrong time, then the caretaker, then Phelps. And now it's this guy, McCallum. Kirk, you've got to get that bag somehow. You've got to get it. Destroy all the evidence against you. Oh, I'd like to, but I can't go after that bag. You know that. Phelps would follow me, just like he's followed me everywhere else. Well, then what are you going to do? Well, I'm not going to quit. I'm going to find this McCallum. But that isn't going to be easy. I've been trying to track him down all afternoon. He isn't even in the phone book. Isn't there some other way? Sure, if I could find that phone number he left with Phelps' secretary... Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute. I just got an idea. Kirk. Kirk, where are you going? I think I know how I can find our Mr. McCallum. Yeah. Yeah, when I do, I'm going to see just what's on his mind. And now, just as you planned, you're standing in the shadows across the street from Phelps' house. You can see him moving about in the lighted room on the second floor. And then the lights go out. And a moment later, he hurries down the front steps, gets into his car and drives away. He thinks you're going to be with Janice tonight, doesn't he, Kirk? Yes. And he wants to be close by to keep his eye on you. You're certain of that, aren't you? You move quickly to the rear of the house and stop as you hear voices. Then see Mrs. Phelps, the housekeeper, talking over the fence to a servant next door. You easily slip into the back door, go up the back stairs inside... and hurry to the darkened study at the front of the house. Your flashlight cuts through the gloom, settles on the briefcase resting on the desk. You pick it up, empty, open the desk drawer, examine every paper in the drawer... and then your hand darts out. Holding the receiver in your hand, you peer out the window toward the back of the house. Hello? Mrs. Phelps didn't hear the phone, did she, Kirk? She's still standing at the head chatting with the next door servant. Hello? Hello, hello? You stare down at the phone and a thought strikes you. You remember Phelps's secretary told him that... McCallum would try to reach him at his home this evening. Yes, Kirk, this could be McCallum now. Hello? This Mr. Phelps? Yes, that's right. I tried to get you at your office today, but you was out. Oh, I'm sorry. What can I do for you, Mr.... Spurling, Gus Spurling, I wanted to talk to you about taking a case for me. You see, my wife's giving me alimony. Hey, look, look, I'm busy now. Tell me about it some other time, will you? Oh, sure, sure. Sorry if I disturbed you, Mr.... It's a disappointment, isn't it, Kirk? You turn back to the desk, start sorting through the papers in the top drawer again... and then something catches your eye. A name on the top left-hand corner of an envelope. Floyd McCallum. There's a stamp of a messenger service on the envelope. You look inside, and the first slip of paper you draw out is a bill. And it's made out to your former employer, Ernest Quinlan... for services rendered, Floyd McCallum. And across the bill is a scrawled note in pencil. Had to go out of town for a few days, will contact on return. Enclosed report will explain. Report. Your eyes fly over the printed pages, and then you lean back. The paper slips from your hand and flutters to the floor. And you almost laugh out loud with relief. The report has to do with an accident case. It has nothing to do with you at all. You carefully replace everything in the desk. Then slip out of the house unnoticed and drive back toward Janice's apartment. The pressure is off now, isn't it, Kirk? Yes. There's only Phelps to worry about. And as long as you're careful, play a smart hand. You'll never have a single shred of evidence against you. You decide to leave the bag at the bridge until you're certain it's safe to remove it. Yes, you're certain your worries were needless. Sure that no one can connect you with Mr. Quinlan's death. A few blocks from Janice's apartment, you stop in at your favorite bar for a drink. Hi, Mr. Gordon. Hello, Sam. You know what I want. Yeah, sure. How's it going? Fine, just fine. No complaints. Yeah, glad to hear it. Glad to hear it. You know, it's refreshing to talk to a jander when you've got no worries. No worries? I've got a worry in the world, Sam. Not a worry in the world. Don't let it happen to your car. 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And as long as the small leather bag remains hidden, you're safe. There's a smile on your lips as you hurry back to Janice's apartment. The tide has turned once again, hasn't it, Kirk? In your favor now, and the future looks bright. Oh, Kirk. Come in, come in. Hello, sweetheart. Well, you can relax now. We don't have a thing to worry about. McCallum's no problem at all. Oh, that's wonderful news, darling. And I have wonderful news for you, too. Huh? Just you sit right there a moment. I don't mind if I do. Now, what's this wonderful news of yours? Remember, darling, you told me you wouldn't have a thing to worry about if you had the bag. Well, sure I remember, but... Well, you have the bag now, Kirk. The bag? Janice! Well, I went out to the bridge an hour ago and picked it up. Janice, you shouldn't have done that. I told you. You told me if you had the bag, you'd have nothing more to worry about. I know, but... Well, don't worry then. Well, I'm sure he didn't follow me. How do you know he didn't? Well, before I left, I made certain he wasn't outside the apartment here watching me. I had Fred, the elevator operator, call Phelps at home. Oh, no. Phelps answered the phone. Fred gave him some story about having alimony trouble, wanting Phelps to, you know, handle the case. I told Fred it was just a gas... Janice, it wasn't Phelps who answered that call. He wasn't there. I answered that phone. You? Yes, me. Kirk, why did you do it? Why did you answer Phelps' phone? I thought it might be McCallum. If you hadn't done that, you'd have the bag, be in the clear. Now we don't know whether I was followed or not. No, we don't. Hand me that bag. I've got to get out of here. I've got to get rid of this before... Hello, Kirk. Oh. Phelps. You know Lieutenant Riggs, of course. We'd like to come in for a moment, Kirk. I'm sure the lieutenant here is anxious to see what you have in the small handbag. May that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, The Whistler, each Sunday night at the same time. Signal has asked me to remind you that today the Red Cross, in addition to providing life-saving whole blood and other needed help for our GIs overseas, must now stockpile blood plasma for possible civilian needs, as well as be prepared to furnish emergency food, clothing, and shelter in case of disaster or enemy attack here. Good reason why this year the Red Cross needs more of us to help, and more help from each of us. Directed in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Joseph Kearns, John Hoyt, Gigi Pearson, Alice Backus, Herb Lytton, and Charles Seal. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Adrian Jean D'Eau, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler is entirely fictional, and all characters portrayed on the Whistler are also fictional. Any similarity of names or resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember at the same time next Sunday, another strange tale by the Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooke, starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
