And now stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. 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. Alias Mr. Alden. The big transport plane banked sharply, planed in towards the approach leg to the airport outside Singapore. Lynne Blakesley moved her veil aside slightly, looked out as the ship came into land and taxied quickly up to the unloading gate. The young man sitting across from her could see that she was young, very attractive. But from his haste in disembarking and making his way through customs, it didn't appear that he was concentrating on lonesome young ladies. Not at the moment. Lynne Blakesley, however, seemed more than mildly interested in keeping the young man in view. Outside the airport, she managed to capture a cab immediately in back of his. Follow him to the Port Royal Hotel, where she stood only a few feet away as he put down his portable typewriter case and spoke to the desk clerk. My name is Alden. You have a reservation for me, room 409. Room 409? I'm sorry, Mr. Alden, it's occupied at the moment. I have very similar accommodations, however, room 302- I'm not interested in similar accommodations. I want that room. I wired you last night. If you please, sir. I'm fully aware that you wired, but since the room is presently occupied- Okay, okay. I-I'm just tired. I guess I didn't mean to jump at you. I-well, I want the room for sentimental reasons. My-my wife and I, you see- I understand, sir, but if you could take 302, I'll take- Oh, sure. Sure, 302. But look, you will let me know, huh? The moment Mrs. Unholt vacates the room, sir, it should be soon. Thank you. The boy will take your bags. Front boy. Yes, miss? We're just visiting, thank you. You wish me to announce you? Well, no. No, I'll use the house phone. As you wish. They're just over there, ma'am, by the lift. Thank you. You're welcome. You're not really interested in the location of the house phones, are you, Lynne? You move off. Watch the annoyed young man taking the elevator up to the third floor. You wait, pretend to use the house phone, then take the next elevator to the fourth floor. And a few moments later... Yes, yes, what is it? And who are you, young woman? I don't believe I know you. Well, please, Mrs. Unholt, I-I hope you won't be angry with me. Hmm, you know my name. Where did you- Well, the desk, clerk, ma'am, I overheard. I took the liberty of coming up here to talk to you myself. About what? Well, this room, ma'am. I was wondering if you'd let me know when you plan to check out. It's for sentimental reasons, Mrs. Unholt. I-I mean that I want to stay in this room again. Sentimental reasons? My late husband. You see, we shared this room when we were first married. He's gone now. Oh, poor child. Now, you come right in here and tell me all about it. I do hate to intrude like this, but if you really don't mind... My name is Lynn, Mrs. Unholt. You're not intruding at all, Lynn, dear. Do come in and tell me all about it, and don't you worry. We'll work something out. You're so kind, Mrs. Unholt. Call me Aunt Sarah. All right, Aunt Sarah. That's better, you poor dear child. But, Mrs. Unholt, you had no right letting this young lady move her baggage into your room before checking out and without even consulting at the desk. There's no harm done. I'm checking out right now. And if you don't stop carrying on, I'll just stop elsewhere in the future. Oh, I'm sorry to cause trouble, but you see, I want to... The room was reserved, ma'am, by Mr. Alden. He'll be very upset. Might even report me to the manager. Oh, dear. Here. Here's Mr. Alden now. I'll speak to him, clerk. Oh, I've caused so much trouble, Mrs. Unholt. Never you mind, child. I'm enjoying this. Young man? Huh? I suppose you're here to ask about the room you reserved? Well, the clerk said he'd notify me. However, if you're the lady who's checking out... I've just checked out, and this young lady is checking in. Well, wait a minute. Mr. Alden, I'm sorry. Believe me, I haven't agreed to this. I haven't agreed to it at all. Well, there's nothing to do but see the manager. After all, I did wire. Look, Miss, I don't see why that particular room... Oh! Stop that, young man. Dare you interrogate Miss Blakeslade? Interrogate Miss Blakeslade? I... Fairly, dear, it's going to be all right. We will see the manager, all of us. After all, I'd like to know exactly why this young man has to have that particular room. Well, I was only going to stay one night. Ladies, please, you're creating a scene. The other guests. Sir, could I possibly ask you... What have you got hidden in that room, young man, the crown jewels? Perhaps we should advise the house detective. Please, Mrs. Unhol. Oh, now, look, this is getting ridiculous. I quite agree. If the young lady only wishes the room for tonight, I... Oh, that's all. Really? Well, I'm comfortable where I am. I suppose I could... There, you see, clerk, no trouble at all. It's all settled and in the manner of ladies and gentlemen. A little chat-chat and everyone's satisfied. Mr. Alden, you're certainly... Oh, it's quite all right. After all, one more night doesn't make much difference. Come along, my dear. Once you're in, you can stay as long as you wish. I've learned that. I knew we would have no trouble. Oh, you're very kind, Mrs. Unhol. Very kind and most helpful. You've accomplished it, haven't you, Lynne? The all-important room is yours for 24 hours, and you're no sooner inside than you go to work, examining the room inch by inch, searching and wondering, until your eyes center on the slowly revolving fan blades above your head. You turn the fan off at the wall switch and get up on a chair, and then you smile. You've found what you're looking for, haven't you, Lynne? In the least likely place, a long, thin key fastened on the top side of one of the fan blades with adhesive tape. You remove it, put it in your purse, and go downstairs. Oh, no. Yes, miss, is something wrong? Well, I'm checking out. You're what? Checking out. That's what I thought you said. Very well, miss. I call the boy. Have your luggage brought down. Thank you. I hope I haven't been too much, Bob. Oh, no, no, no. Also, in a day's work, the guests must be served. Boy, the lady specs room 409. Could you... Would you recommend another hotel? Delighted. Well, I mean... Oh, it isn't that I don't like it here. It's... Well, the memories. I thought they'd be pleasant. Perfectly all right. I have a few unpleasant memories myself. I suggest a C-commer three blocks down. Well, thank you. Oh, there's Mr. Alden. Oh, Mr. Alden! Yes? Your room, sir. 409. The one you wanted. What about it? You won't believe this, but I have it for you. Here's your key. Oh, but this young lady, Miss Blakeslee? Yes, Miss Blakeslee has changed her mind. The room suggests unpleasant memory. Well, I really don't mean to infer that... It's all right, ma'am. We all understand, and we bow to a woman's prerogative to change her mind. I hope you're not angry with me, Mr. Alden. Not at all. The room must have meant something to you, too. Oh, nothing important, really. However, thank you. Not at all. Well, good night. Good night. Nice, isn't he? Very. And patient. Most patient. Some Whistler fans, with whom I was talking before the program started, said to me, and we're not doubting your word, but you promised such wonderful performance from Signal Ethel, it's hard to believe any gasoline can be quite that good. Well, frankly, friends, I'm hoping you won't just take my word for it. I'm hoping you'll be so intrigued you'll want to find out for yourself. For instance, if you're skeptical when I tell you about Signal Ethel's trigger-quick starting on cool mornings, there's an easy way you can prove it. And if it sounds too good to be true when I infuse about Signal Ethel's peppy pickup, there's an easy way you can prove it. And if it seems too much to expect that Signal Ethel will hoist you over hills in high, hills that make other cars clatter and shift, there's an easy way you can prove it. How? Simply by driving into any signal station and treating your car to a tank full of Signal Ethel. When you bear down on the accelerator pedal and feel that sweet, sweet performance, my bet is you'll say that Marvin Miller was sure right about Signal Ethel. It's going very well, isn't it, Lyn? And you have the key in your pocketbook to a small fortune now. And not once did the young man, traveling under the name of Alan Alden, whose real name you know is Lee Rainey, not once did he suspect you'd followed him across half a continent to Singapore. But that isn't your concern at this moment. Now your objective is to gain access to the safety deposit box, which can be opened by the key you've managed to obtain ahead of Mr. Rainey, alias Mr. Alden. That's what brings you to a bank in Singapore, where you attempt a bluff you know has little chance of success, but is the only move you can make until you think of something else. You pose as secretary to Mr. Alan Alden, news correspondent. The bank manager, however, isn't at all cooperative. I'm sorry, Miss, I've no doubt that you are Mr. Alden's secretary if you say so, but you see... I only see that you're being very unreasonable. I told you Mr. Alden can't make it here himself, but there's some things he wants in the safe deposit box. And again I say, Miss, he'll have to come here himself and prove his identity. We have a copy of his signature, of course. I'm sorry, Miss, really... You're not. You're not sorry at all. Oh, all right, I'll call him. I'll tell him what you said. If you wish to use our telephone, Miss... Never mind. As you wish. The Bank Manager You turn away, wondering about your next move as you start out of the bank. A glance towards the window causes you to draw back, doesn't it, Lynne? Yes, because standing in a doorway across the street is the last person you want to see right now, Lee Rainey. You can't face him with the key in your possession. Frantically you look around, catch sight of your rickshaw boy waiting at the bank entrance. You motion him over, hand him the key, tell him to deliver it to your new hotel. Only after he's gone do you venture out into the street. Almost immediately Lee Rainey falls into step beside you. Morning, Miss Blakeslee. Or should I call you Lynne? Oh, Mr. Alden. Or rather, Mr. Rainey. You're pretty clever. What's your little game, sweetheart? Game? Yeah, have any luck in there? Luck? Oh, come off it. Will you? I mean about getting into the safety deposit box. Oh, that. Yeah, that. I needn't have asked, I suppose. Now only Alan Alden can get into that box. Alan Alden is dead. Is he? Yeah. And you killed him. You see, I knew him quite well. Yeah, well I'm afraid you're a bit confused, sweetheart. You see, I'm Alan Alden, newspaper correspondent. I've got my typewriter to prove it. And Alden's credentials. Identification papers, too. All we need to get into that safety deposit box, Lynne. We, Mr. Rainey? Partnerships, sweetheart. Don't tell me the idea never occurred to you. Well, as a matter of fact, it has. You have the key? Not with me, so if you're thinking of... Violence? Perish the thought. Smart boy. As I was saying, you have the key and I have the identification and I can write his signature as well as he could. Now what are you saying? I'd like to know a little bit more about all this, Mr. Rainey. For example, how much is in that safe deposit box? Plenty. And what's it for? Alden pulled a big deal for a crooked syndicate. And they set up the safety deposit box for him and left the payoff money there. I see. Now all I have to do is show up at the bank, fake his signature and present the proper credentials. And the key. That's very important, isn't it? Very. Well, is it a deal? I'll have to think it over. Oh, now really, I'm not too hard to get along with. I've got an idea that we could... I know, make beautiful music. Yeah, well, I was going to be more original. Oh? But now that you mention it, I bet we could. Hey, tell me, don't you think I have the shoulders for a harp? Oh, sure, sure. And I've just the chin for a violin. I'm still going to have to think it over. Don't take too long, Len. Alden's newspaper is expecting him to file another story very soon, and frankly, I'm not much of a writer. I'll give you my answer this afternoon. There's a small bar not far from the bank, Chang's. You know it? I'll find it. I'll be there. Two o'clock. It's the only way, isn't it, Len? You've got to team up with Lee Rainey. But you must also move cautiously because you don't trust him. Yes, you want time to think it over carefully before you give the key to him. You wait till Lee turns the corner, then start after him. You want to see where he goes, don't you, Len? See who he talks to. And you follow him to a small shop where he leaves his portable typewriter. You're still close behind him as he strolls through the business district. Then shortly before noon, luck runs against you, and you lose him in the crowd. Sorry I'm late, sweetheart. Only a few minutes, you're forgiven. Buy you a drink? Thanks, no, I'm not finished with this one. Made up your mind yet? Yes. We're partners, Len and Lee. Oh, that's really good news. Really calls for a drink. Now, we can save the celebrating, if you don't mind. I'll feel better when we're counting the money. Oh, and you're going to feel so good, sweetheart, because it's so much. Keep talking, partner. I love every word. I could go on like this for hours. Um, Lee. Yeah? We don't have much time, do we? The bank will close soon. Yeah, right you are. Shall we go, partner? A short time later, you arrive at the bank. Wait in the rickshaw while Lee Rainey, alias Mr. Alan Alden, goes inside. Five minutes go by, then ten. You become increasingly nervous, wonder if something's gone wrong. Finally, you hurry into the bank. Find it almost deserted, but you quickly seek out the manager. Good afternoon, miss. Oh, Mr. Alden's secretary. Yes, Mr. Alden came in here some time ago. Yes, he did. I told him you'd been here earlier. I explained to him why I couldn't let you into the safety deposit box. What did he say? Oh, he said it was quite all right. He just left. Let... Are you sure? Oh, of course. I let him out the side door a few minutes ago. Side door. I see. Was there something else, miss? Did he forget something? No, nothing. I'm sorry you missed him. So am I. He slipped away from you, hasn't he, Lynne? Yes. He must have gotten the money from the safety deposit box and taken it with him. You hurry back outside to the rickshaw, and then realize you don't even know where to look for Rainey, do you? As your rickshaw boy takes up a slow trot, and you move down the Singapore street, you lean back and close your eyes. It's only for an instant, because suddenly you remember something, don't you? You lean forward again and shout to the rickshaw boy, and he says, yes, a slim chance, Lynne, but well worth the try. What can I do for you, miss? I'm Alan Alden's secretary. He left a typewriter here this morning, I believe. Oh, that's right. I've got it right here, all fixed up neat and proper like she is. New roller and all. Good. He's anxious to have it back. You'll deliver it, of course. Well, now, we don't have a regular delivery service. Mr. Alden will pay you for your trouble. I see to it, miss. Now, let's take a look at the tag here. Oh, yes. That's the Grayton Hotel, isn't it? That's right. The Grayton Hotel. When will it be delivered? First thing in the morning, miss. Oh, not before then, dear me. That does make it rather awkward. Perhaps I'd better take it with me now. As you wish, miss. Just a minute. Yes, what? Oh, Lynne. Hello, Lee, darling. How did you... Of course, the typewriter. All fixed up neat and proper like she is. New roller and all. Here we are. Thank you. May I come in? How can I refuse so charming a young lady? Especially when she's holding a gun. Yes, do come in. Thank you. You shouldn't have tried to double-cross me, Lee. Now I'll want all the money. Double-cross you, darling? Oh, really not. Where is it? In a nice safe place. And you're going to tell me where that nice safe place is, aren't you? Of course I am. The bank. The bank? Yeah. I opened an account there as soon as I emptied the safety deposit box. I see. Now, look, sweetheart, you've got me all right. Stay where you are. Okay, okay. Take it easy. Let me explain, will you? I didn't try to double-cross you. Oh, of course you didn't. You simply forgot that I was waiting out in front of the bank. No, but there was somebody else waiting out there. Oh? Yeah, a short, heavy-set man in a white suit. I've seen him before, and I'm sure he's with the police. Oh, really? That's why I ducked out the side entrance and came back here. I was going to phone you. Oh, of course you were. Oh, now, Lyn, you've got to believe me. I'm telling the truth. Are you? All right. Then we're still partners. Still partners, sweetheart. Well, then I want half the money. Of course, the bank is closed now, but you could write me a check. I'd be glad to. Careful. I was only reaching for my checkbook, darling. There's no cause for alarm. Oh, you're going to write it on the typewriter? Yeah, then all I have to write in longhand is his signature. I practiced it a thousand times. You've got it all thought out, haven't you? Yeah, let's see. Pay the order of L-Y-N-M-D-L-A-K-E-S-L-E-E. Forget it, Lee. I said forget it. I'll take that check. I'm not falling for that story of yours. What do you mean? There wasn't anyone in a white suit waiting outside that bank. You slipped out the side entrance to get away from me. Oh, now, Lyn, don't... So you deposited the money in the bank, did you? Of course I did. Well, then you must have a bank book. A bank book? Sure. Well, where is it? Well, let me see. It's around here somewhere. Oh, yes, in my suitcase there. I'll get it. Never mind. I'll get it. You stay where you are. Oh, but, sweetheart... Stay where you are. I'll get it. You stay where you are. Oh, but, sweetheart... Stay where you are. Where are we? I don't see a bank book here, but I do see a 45. This is what you were after, Lee. Oh, now, look, Lyn... I am looking. And I see scads and scads of money in this suitcase. Crisp new bills. How nice. How very nice they look. Okay, baby, you win. Take it. I will. I'll take it. I will. No hard feelings, huh? I... I tried and I missed. I'll bow out. Of course. You'll bow out. Rather permanently, I'm afraid. Now, wait a minute. I just wouldn't feel safe with all this money if you were still in circulation. I'm sorry, Lee, but as soon as it gets dark, we're going to take a walk down to the docks. I've got to catch a boat. Lyn, listen to me. You've got to catch a very bad cold, darling, in the bay. Because of unsettled and fast-changing world conditions, the tires you put on your car today may have to last a long, long while. That's why it'll pay you to be sure you're choosing tires, and there are no tires, but no tires, that surpass the mileage and safety record held by nationally advertised Lee tires. For half a century, Lee of Conchohocken has made the finest of first-line tires and made them ever finer and finer. The cold rubber in today's Lee tires, for instance, is even further toughened with high-abrasive, patented fill-black O, and the carcass is reinforced with double-life rayon cord. As a result, Lee's super deluxe tires wear so long, they're guaranteed for life against effective workmanship and materials. So safe, they're guaranteed 15 months against all road hazards. Yet you pay nothing extra for all this extra quality in Lee's. And signal dealers are even giving generous trade in allowances for old tires. So insure against what's ahead by making sure your next tires are Lee tires from a signal service station or Lee tire dealer. MUSIC It's all over, isn't it, Lyn? Yes, Lee Rainey is dead, his body floating out in the darkness of the Singapore Bay. And the money? Alan Alden's payoff money is all yours now, safely tucked away in your suitcase. You arrange passage aboard a freighter bound for Java, clear your papers through the port authorities, and a few minutes before sailing time, you're in your cabin aboard ship when there's a knock on the door. Come in. Miss Blakeslee? Lyn Blakeslee? Why, yes. My name's MacGregor. Singapore police. Police? Well, what's wrong? You're acquainted with Alan Alden, miss? Alton Alden. The name sounds familiar. Oh, yes, the news correspondent, I believe. No, no, I've never met him. I see. Why, what is it, officer? A man with identification papers of Alan Alden was found in the bay a couple of hours ago. He'd been murdered. Murdered? How horrible. I've seen leaving Alden's hotel with him earlier this evening. Her description fits you perfectly. Oh, now, see here, officer, there are hundreds of women in Singapore who could fit my description. I know. Well, then, why pick on me? I told you I didn't know Alan Alden. Because we believe he named his killer for us. What? Named his killer? Yes. You see, we found a typewriter in his room, a typewriter with a brand-new roller, and on that roller was printed a name, Lynne Blakesley, just as clear as if it was typed on paper. A typewriter? Yes, miss. If you didn't know him and hadn't been with him, what possible reason would we have for typing your name? Well, I... I just don't know. We don't know either. But I have a hunch we will, after we search you and examine your luggage. MUSIC Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at this same time. Meantime, Signal Oil Company and the friendly independent dealers who help you go farther with signal gasoline hope you'll remember, regardless of what gasoline you use, you'll enjoy more miles of happy driving if you drive at sensible speeds, obey traffic regulations, and avoid taking chances. You may even save a life, possibly your own. MUSIC Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman as The Whistler, Betty Lou Gerson, Gerald Moore, Gloria Gordon, Fritz Feld, and Ben Wright. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Joel Malone, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler is entirely fictional, and all characters portrayed on The Whistler are also fictional. The similarity of names or resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember to tune in at this same time next Sunday when The Signal Oil Company will bring you another strange story by The Whistler entitled The Doctor's Wife, in which a man's shady deals take him across the Atlantic Ocean to a beautiful woman and murder. Marvin Miller speaking for The Signal Oil Company. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooks starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is the CBS Radio Network.
