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, the Whistler's strange story. Borrowed byline. The Whistler. The trip from Calcutta to Hong Kong had been hot and dull. And Craig McKelvey was glad when the slackening of the ship's engines told him they were moving through Lai-Iman Pass into Hong Kong roads. At the railing outside his stateroom door, he could see the lights of Victoria rising from the jam-packed esplanade to the luxurious villas high up on the peak. And off to the starboard other lights, marking Kowloon Point on the mainland. He was glad now that he'd taken the bulb of the horns and come here. Calcutta was a fine place for a year, even two. But six years had been too much. And when the opportunity for some quick money had come, he decided to take it and come to Hong Kong, orders or no orders. Five minutes after the gangplank had been lowered to the dock, there was a knock at his stateroom door. Craig McKelvey smiled as he turned open. Cylindrum hadn't changed a bit, still as prompt as ever. Well, Alphonse Cylindrum. Good evening, McKelvey. Nice to see you again. Yes, indeed. Have a chair. Thank you. Let me fix you a drink, Cylindrum. Scotch and splash. You're very kind. On the contrary, I'm very practical. You always discuss business better over a drink. I know the wire you sent me had a deal in it somewhere. I thought I made that clear. You're never very clear, Cylindrum, particularly where money's involved. And what makes you think there's money involved, my friend? You don't think I'd jump my job and take a long boat ride to renew an old acquaintance, do you? Wait a moment. Jump your job? Well, not exactly. But my editor in London... Oh, Mr. Ames. All right. Mr. Ames fails to realize that at times a roving correspondent has to rove. He might take a dim view of my sudden departure from Calcutta. I hope not. Oh? You see, McKelvey, your excellent standing with your newspaper in London is exactly the reason I wired you to come here. Here's your drink. Thanks. Your health, my friend. Ah. Excellent, Scotch McKelvey. Excellent. You can thank the purser I wanted from him last night in a card game. Now, what are you saying about my job? I think perhaps we'd better discuss mine first. I've established a new connection, McKelvey. I see. Representing a British importing firm. Sounds honest. It is. That's strange, Alphonse. I've never known you... Ah, ta-ta-ta-ta-ta. My past is a closed book, something to be forgotten. There's much to be done here, McKelvey. New worlds to conquer. The right man, the right set of circumstances. And the wealth of the Orient is here for the taking. Tell me, my friend, how much do you know of natural history? What? Do you know, for example, that on the slopes of the mountains to the west, there lives a species of deer, a small hornless animal, unimpressive as a trophy, but worthy of the most skillful hunter who ever held a rifle? If you don't mind, old man. I'm being obscure again. To make a long story short, McKelvey, this little animal is the source of one of the most precious materials in the world. A substance for which there is an almost hysterical demand at this very moment. Well, go on. What is it? Musk. Musk? An essential ingredient of the finest perfumes. What little there is is in great demand on today's market. That's all very interesting, but where do I come in? I'm coming to that. It seems there is a persistent rumor that a fabulous amount of purest Tibetan musk is floating around East Asia somewhere. My firm is most anxious to locate it. So anxious, in fact, that they've retained me for the past eight months solely to conduct the search. And that, McKelvey, is where you come in. Is it? A simple dispatch in your very reliable newspaper indicating I have discovered the musk would simplify my problem immeasurably. I'm still a lap or two behind, Alfons. I... I know I can be frank with you, my friend. From the moment I accepted this proposition, my problem has been to persuade my superiors in London to advance funds to cover the purchase. Needless to say, my firm in London tends to be cautious, since the transaction will come to over a quarter million American dollars. Then you have found the musk? Oh, no. Hmm. Yet you want me to file that story. Oh, come, McKelvey, you haven't developed any moral compunctions after all these years? No, just being practical again, Alfons. You'd never get away with it, you know. In the first place, they'd never send the funds without checking. In the second place, the idea of picking off a quarter million dollars and disappearing is simply fantastic. You underestimate me, my friend. After all, I haven't been at work on this for eight months for nothing. So all you need is a story over my signature and they'll jump? They do anything to close fast, prevent competitive bidding. I see. You realize, of course, that this kind of a sellout would finish me as a foreign correspondent. It should be well worth your while. How much? Twenty-five thousand American dollars. You underestimate me, Alfons. Make it fifty thousand. That's a lot of money for a story. You're buying a career. Excuse me. Yes? Cable gram, sir. Oh, here you are. Thank you, sir. Hmm. Hold for arrival. Huh. What? Consider your impromptu departure from Calcutta inexcusable. Your services with this paper terminated immediately. Frank Parkesley has requested temporary transfer to Hong Kong, instructing him to replace you on arrival. Ames. Anything interesting in your cable gram? Oh, nothing much. It was from Ames. Just another raise. That's very fortunate. Your reputation with your paper must remain unimpeachable, McElvey, until the story is filed. Yeah, I realize that. Now, how about the price? Fifty thousand it is. Good. When do I file it? After I prepare the way in London. We must be cautious now. Can't afford to be seen together. Suppose I meet you tomorrow night at nine at the Twin Dragon Bar? Right. Well, Alfons, here's to the story. Yes, my friend. Do your story. It's strange, isn't it, Craig? At the very moment it became clear that your position with the paper in London meant everything to you, with Alfons Celendrum sitting there in your stateroom, ready to pay you fifty thousand dollars for that false dispatch. The crushing wire from Ames discharging you arrived to change it all. You realized, of course, that Celendrum must never know about it. And even as you tore up your editor's message discharging you and turned to Celendrum, you were trying frantically to think of some way the story could be filed and published the following day in London. Celendrum's gone now, and you sit alone in your stateroom for a long time thinking. You remember that no one knows you in Hong Kong. Decide for the time being it has to stay that way. A few minutes after leaving the ship, you check in at a nondescript waterfront hotel. You've never been one to apologize, Craig, but this time it's got to be. You hurry down to the cable office, scribble the message out and hand it to the clerk. Let me see now. Timothy Ames, Fleet Street. Can't believe you're serious. Came here on tip, underground movement, very active in southern China. Now you will allow me time for full report, Mckelvie. Yes? Mr. Mckelvie? Yes, speaking. We have received a cable for you from London. Oh, would you please read it? Repeat, you are relieved immediately. Parkesley arriving Hong Kong SS Malaya soonest. Ames. I see. Any answer? No, no answer. But at that moment, Craig, as you hang up the receiver, you know there has to be an answer. That the story must be filed somehow, even if you have to use Frank Parkesley's name. That with fifty thousand dollars involved, nothing is going to stop you. You call the porters desk. Porters desk? When is the steamship Malaya due in? Malaya? Sunday night. Thanks. And Sunday night is uppermost in your mind as you sit with Cylindrum later that evening in a dark booth at the Twin Dragons. Going over the text of the story, you know you'll have to file under Frank Parkesley's byline. You've got that straight, Mckelvie. Negotiations are underway. Mind you, nothing more. We must not imply the deal is anywhere near closed. Of course. They must fear competition, you see. Rival offers, higher bids. I see. When does it go? Tonight. Tonight, huh? Yes, we can move fast now. Everything's in readiness. Aren't you being a little hasty? Why do you say that? It's very simple. The heaviest advertising days are at the end of the week. Our story might end up on the press room floor. Then what do you suggest? Sunday night. We can't miss if we aim for Monday's late edition. Well, I hate to wait now. You've got to wait if you want to be sure. Well, all right, Mckelvie, I'll leave it up to you. Sunday night. Yes, Craig, it has to be the night Parkesley will arrive on the Malaya, because your mind is made up, isn't it? On Sunday night, you're going to check out of the Hotel Oriental as Craig Mckelvie. You're going to move into higher circles in the Victoria as Frank Parkesley. And between the two, there'll be a murder. Sunday night finds you at the dock waiting, looking up at the sleek side of the passenger vessel that just pulled in, the SS Malaya. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Parkesley, the linen suit, the thin, rangy figure, the same Frank Parkesley you saw in Singapore years ago. Hello, Parkesley. You don't remember me. I'm Mckelvie. Oh, yes, Mckelvie, of course. I'm sorry. We only met once. Yes. London, wasn't it? Singapore. Oh, that it's all right. I wouldn't have remembered you if I hadn't been told you were coming. Oh, well, then they did inform you that I guess they sent me a cable. Yes. I'm sorry, old man. I've been trying desperately to get out of Burma, but it hasn't anything to do with displacing anyone. Oh, I know. That's my own doing. And Ames, he agrees that I'm a bum. Well, I wouldn't worry about it. We all have at least one editor who can't stand us. Sure. Look, I hired a car. I'll drive you up to the hotel. Well, that's very sporting of you, Mckelvie. However, there's been a delay in getting my baggage off, and I'm afraid... Oh, they'll send it up for you. Well, if you don't mind, I'd rather wait. A past experience, you know. Somewhere in the Orient, there's a typewriter, three suits, and six pair of my best argyles. I know what you mean. So, we wait. Yes, if you don't mind. I insist. You don't know Hong Kong, Parkesley, but it's like the baggage. A man can get lost here. I was a little surprised when they named you as my replacement, Parkesley. What struck you to want to leave Burma? Oh, well, at the moment, I think there's more opportunity for me here. Oh, really? Yes. I say, is this the road to the hotel? Oh, it's a roundabout one, but I thought you might get a kick out of seeing the bay. Well, it's a... Well, it's pretty all right. There's quite a view spot up ahead. A friend of mine drove me out to it the first time I was here. Oh. Yeah, here we are, just around this curve. Yes, I say, you're right. It takes in the whole shoreline, doesn't it? Yeah. Actually, we're not up very high. It's just the way the island juts out here. Well, not many people could know this spot. It wouldn't be so deserted. I'll have to remember it, McKelvey. You listen as Frank Parkesley prattles on about the view. He's right, isn't he, Craig? Not many people know this spot. You're thinking that as Parkesley turns his head, looks away from you in the direction of the bay. Your hand moves down and tightens around the handle of a heavy wrench at your side. The lights over there, McKelvey, glittering like the gold we mortals are always after. Have you ever thought of them that... The drive back to town gives you your first chance to really let down since meeting Frank Parkesley. It's over now, Craig. You did it. Kill Parkesley and send his body, heavily weighted with stones, over the side of the cliff and splashing into the waters of the bay. You're glad now that he insisted on waiting for his luggage. You have a use for it, haven't you? Yes, at Parkesley's hotel. But not before you return the rented car and attend to a few things at your own hotel. Oh, you're leaving, Mr. McKelvey? Yes, checking out, Sam. I'm getting passage on the Malaya. Here's the Hotel Victoria, mister. There, here you go. Front, boy. Front. Oh, yes, sir. I wired for a reservation. The name is Parkesley. Oh, yes, I remember. If you'll just sign this card, Mr. Parkesley. Very well. And it's room number 402. Here's the key. The boy will take your bags. Fine. All right, sonny, let's go. Well, if it isn't my good friend. Solyndrum. Yes, indeed, my dear man. You go on ahead, boy. I'll be right up. You said yourself we shouldn't be seen together. Not here, not here. I'm in room 402. If there's anything to talk about, wait about a half hour and then meet me there. As you wish, my friend. Room 402. Hello. Hello. Yes, sir? Operator, I was talking to the cable office. Could you reconnect me? I was filing a dispatch for my paper. Oh, sorry. One moment. I'll get them again. Go ahead, Mr. Parkesley. I'll give it here from the beginning again. Hong Kong, August 17th. Supposedly well-founded reports indicate certain Alphonse Solyndrum, agent for a London importing firm, negotiating for purchase of largest quantity Tibetan musk ever involved in single transaction. Solyndrum commissioned by his firm. A few minutes later and it's over, isn't it, Craig? You hang up the phone, sit back and breathe a sigh of relief. You worked fast, didn't you, and it went through. Everything you said. The report will appear in the London paper. You've managed to keep your promise to Solyndrum, haven't you, Craig? With the aid of Parkesley's arrival and sudden departure. Now all that's ahead is to wait and collect your fee. Hello, my friend. Come on in, Solyndrum. I trust you feel free to talk now, my dear McKelvie. Anybody see you come up? Why are you so nervous? You're not at all the man of iron. Never mind. Just don't like to ask for trouble, that's all. I did a serious thing. I hope you appreciate that. You've already filed the dispatch? I have. Oh. What's the matter? Don't tell me it isn't going to work. I have better news, McKelvie, much better. News that will preserve your integrity as a correspondent. Who are you driving at? Supposing I were to tell you that anything you said concerning the negotiations for my firm in London were true. Is that what you are telling me? Exactly. At long last, after eight months, mind you, I have been contacted by letter. The man who has the musk wishes to discuss business with me. Now, wait a minute. We had an agreement. Oh, please, my friend. I'm not forgetting. Not for one moment. As you say, we had an agreement, a gentleman's agreement. And because of it, you will receive the amount I promised. But if you have to make a legitimate purchase... I'm not above such an action, McKelvie, not under the right circumstances. You're meeting this man tonight? He's coming here to the hotel, yes. I must talk to him privately. You see, the margin of profit is accounted for by the simple fact that he did not come buy the musk by entirely honest means. So he's willing to sell for less? I am buying the musk for exactly half the price my firm will pay. I see. Very neat, Solendrum. So you need have no concern over your share. I'll bring it here to your room the moment my, uh, my guest departs. Uh-uh. Sorry, Solendrum. I hate to be indelicate about it, but I'm in too deep. We'll wait for your man right here. Together. Yes, Clark? Uh, this is 402. Yes, sir. Mr. Solendrum is visiting with me, but he expects a caller. If anyone asked for him, would you send him up here? Certainly, Mr. Parkslip. Thank you. All taken care of, my friend? All taken care of. Nothing to do now but set and wait. Ah, yes. And the moment is close, McElvey. This will-o'-the-wisp I've pursued these many months is almost in my grasp. Think, man, in a matter of hours, perhaps minutes, we'll both be rich. And you are thinking, aren't you, Craig? There's a tense, nervous feeling inside you. And you know Solendrum senses it too, as both of you sit there in silence, waiting. Waiting. You glance at Frank Parkslip's brown leather luggage piled next to the chair, thankful that the initials F.P. are facing you and not Solendrum. It's too late to even wish now that you'd thrown it into the bay along with the body of its owner. Eleven o'clock. Eleven thirty. Twelve. You're both wondering now. So many things could go wrong. So much could happen to a man alone in Hong Kong with over $200,000 in his hands. And then... You'd better answer the door, my friend. Our visitor is here. For a moment you can't move, can you, Craig? Then suddenly you find yourself on your feet. And in the few seconds it takes you to cross the room, the whole nightmarish story flashes across your mind. The cryptic wire Solendrum sent you in Calcutta, the fortune in Tibetan Musk, the false dispatch, Frank Parkslip's body lying at the bottom of the bay, and above all the fear, the terrible knowledge of what will happen if they find you here in his place. Yes, Craig, from now on you have to move fast. Good evening. I wonder if I'm in the right room. Yes, the man you want is inside. Come in. This is Mr. Solendrum. Good evening. I presume you're Parkslip? Parkslip? Yes, Craig, the man I've been expecting. That's very interesting, Mr. Solendrum. I'm Inspector Wilson. I knew Frank Parkslip wasn't working alone, so I've been following him ever since he robbed a trader in Burma of a fortune in Tibetan Musk. Well, this is obviously something between you two gentlemen, so I'll just... Oh, no, my friend, don't go. You're in this too. You're quite right. You see, after tracing Parkslip this far, I lost track of him momentarily. Disappeared. Quite remarkable. Then this afternoon some fishermen reported a body visible at low tide in the shallow water off Crown Point. A body? Yes, Parkslip's body. Now, suppose you tell me which one of you killed him. Oh, no. Now, wait a minute. We haven't seen this Parkslip. You registered here in his name? But we haven't seen him. We were waiting for him. Then how does it happen that his luggage is there by that chair? I'd know it anywhere. Or two, I followed it long enough. You see, some of that luggage contains the stolen musk. What? I said that luggage contains the stolen musk. Interesting, eh? The Whistler has just brought you another of his strange tales. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio Service. The United States Armed Forces Radio Service The United States Armed Forces Radio Service
