The Whistler. Presented by the United States Air Forces in Europe. 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. The Whistler will continue in just a moment. The Whistler's Strange Story Song Team. Ted Gray had music in his heart. He heard a melody in the rustle of every leaf, saw a song in the bend of every river. A few years ago, Ted teamed up with lyric writer Al Wilson. And now Ted Gray and Al Wilson formed one of the most successful songwriting combinations in the profession. And as Ted played for the hundredth time his latest composition, his mood was one of major harmony, except for one thing, his partner. For months, his dislike for Al Wilson had been growing. And now you almost hate him, don't you, Ted? Because you're almost certain he's captured the love of the only girl you've ever truly cared for, Corinne Mitchell. Yes, Corinne. Once your copiest and part-time secretarial helper, now the head of her own publicity bureau. That's probably Al now, isn't it, Ted? Oh, hiya, Ted. Sorry I'm late. Eh, you're always late. Did you finish the lyrics? Yep. All but a couple of lines. You've been playing around with them for three weeks. Well, I know, but you've not got a great tune this time, kid. And I want to be sure the lyrics are just as good as the tune. That'll be a novelty. I don't know. You've done all right with me. Look, I know a couple of composers who have done just as well and played a lot less. You're getting 50% of the royalties. Eddie Regan gets only 20% for the lyrics he writes for Joe Winslow's tunes. All right, then why don't you get Eddie Regan to write your lyrics? He's under contract to Winslow. Oh, is that so? Well, we got a contract, too. 50-50, remember? And it's that or nothing. But any time you want to call the whole thing off, all you have to do is say so. And incidentally, your mentioning our contract reminds me of a change that I want. What kind of change? That clause that if one of us dies, the other gets complete ownership of all our songs. How come you want that change all of a sudden? Neither one of us has any near relatives. Nobody close enough to leave anything to. Well, I expect to have a near relative soon. A very near relative. A wife. Who's the lucky girl? Corrine. Corrine? Yes, Corrine. You're engaged? Well, not yet, but I'm going to ask her as soon as I see her. And you think she'll say yes? Yeah, I think so. Oh, you slay me, Al. What's so funny? I got news for you. Corrine's going to marry me. That's funny. She didn't say anything to me about it last night before she left for Seattle. Not so funny. I asked her not to say anything until we got our new song, Front Porch Rolling. Oh, well, I believe that when she tells me. She'll tell you, Al. She'll have a chance when she gets back. That's all right with me. Meantime, how about finishing those lyrics? With Corrine out of town, there's nothing to distract you. And Roberta Lynn promised she'd record it in time to get it on Peter Potter's Jukebox Jury program. That is, if we finish it in the next couple of days. Okay, Ted, I'll try to finish it. I wish you would. As the door closes behind your partner, you realize for the first time how easy things would be for you if something happened to Al. You would be sole owner of all the songs you now own jointly, wouldn't you, Ted? And with Al out of the way, your certain Corrine would marry you in a minute. Then it hits you. Something must happen to Al before Corrine Mitchell returns and before your partnership contract is changed. You're startled as you realize you're thinking of murder. You've never even imagined yourself as a killer. You think about it for a couple of days and then phone Al. Hello? Al, it's Ted. Oh. How you coming on front porch? I think I'll finish it tomorrow. I only need a couple of lines. I'm gonna stick here all day if I have to. It won't even answer the phone. That's a good idea. Well, let's see. Tomorrow's Friday. I'll take it out to Lou late tomorrow afternoon. He'll get the lead sheet out Saturday morning. That'll give Roberta four days to get it in shape before her recording date. Oh, that's plenty of time. I think I'll have it tomorrow, Ted. Up to it, kid. Phone me when it's finished. When you hang up the phone, you realize that tomorrow is the day, don't you, Ted? You pace the floor of your apartment most of the night. And by morning, you've worked out a plan, a plan you're certain will succeed. At ten o'clock, you're on the phone again. Mid-central publishing. Hi, Gracie. Ted Gray. Oh, hello, Ted. Is the boss in? Yes. How about Frankie? No, there's nobody here but me. They're both tied up until after lunch. About three. Three it is. You're certain now you can dispose of Al Wilson and get away with it, aren't you, Ted? Everyone believes you're Al's closest friend, and you'll make it look like an attempted robbery. You won't make the mistake most criminals make and prepare a perfect alibi. No. Your alibi will actually be imperfect with just enough holes in it to make it seem natural. The simple audacity of your act will be your insurance of success. You'll take care of Al around three o'clock. Go straight from his apartment to mid-central publishing, where you'll wait your usual 20 minutes or more for Lou. When news of Al's death breaks, you will be as surprised and shocked as anyone. You finish dressing, eat a leisurely breakfast, and read the paper. Then take step one in your plan. You drive over to the drug store next door to Al's apartment building around lunchtime, three hours before you plan to kill him. Hi. Hi, Mr. Adamson. Oh, hello, Ted. You just missed your partner. Al? I was on my way to Al's. Well, he said he had to work all afternoon on the lyrics to your new number. Oh, then I guess I'll take him to lunch, give him strength for the job, huh? I'll take this cart of cigarettes, too, Mr. Adamson. Thanks a lot. Check. Now, Ted, you have at least one reputable witness who will testify you were on the way to Al's place to take him to lunch. You leave the drug store, and in case the druggist is watching, you enter Al's apartment building, walk through the downstairs hallway to the rear entrance. You hurry down the alleyway to the boulevard where you've parked your car, and drive aimlessly for an hour or so, and then return to your own apartment building, where you make certain another reputable witness will be able to testify that you were at home after your midday visit to Al. Come in. Good afternoon, Mr. Gray. Hello, Mrs. Carter. I, uh, I was wondering if you might have a larger apartment vacant, one with an extra bedroom. Well, we'll have in the first of month. You have some friends? No, no. Al and I thought we might get more work done if we lived in the same place. I just had lunch with him. Oh, this will be perfect for you two gentlemen. I can't show it to you right now, but... Oh, that's all right. I'd want Al to see it anyway. Besides, I got a little copying to do, and then I got to get out the mid-central publishing. I just want to make sure you had one. We'll take a look on Sunday. Your plans are complete, aren't they, Ted? You have two reputable witnesses as to your whereabouts at two highly important times. Back in your apartment, you pace the floor and watch the clock. Finally, the minute arrives, and at ten minutes before three, you walk down the alleyway in the rear of Al's apartment building and hurry upstairs to the second floor. Oh, hello, Ted. Come on in. How are you coming on those lines? I got them. Good. Let's hear them. Hey, Al, listen to this. Sure, it's useless to sigh, and it's foolish to grieve, because what good are words that your heart won't believe? Hey, you like them? Yeah, yeah, I like them fine. I figured you would. Corinne would... I don't want to talk about Corinne now. But Corinne was... I said I didn't want to talk about Corinne. What's the matter with you, Ted? What are you... No, Ted. No. Wait a minute. It's done, isn't it, Ted? And you're sure you made it look like a fatal assault during an attempted robbery. Now you must be careful to establish the one important time factor of your day's routine. You drive quickly to an outside phone booth just a half a block from mid-central publishing. Operator. Police headquarters, please. Just a moment. Police headquarters. Sergeant Quinn speaking. I think a man's been killed in Apartment 203 in the Cheswell Apartments on Las Palmas. Who is this? Who's talking? That's something you'll never know, Sergeant. You timed things beautifully, didn't you, Ted? Within a minute after your call to the police, you're at the mid-central publishing offices. You're confident as you stroll into the mid-central publishing lobby, almost on time, for your 3 o'clock appointment. Hello, Angel. The boss here? Always on time, Teddy. No, Lou's not here yet. Oh, that's all right. How about old Texas Frank? Yeah, he's here. Wait a minute. Ted? Yeah? And Ted Gray's here. Be right out. Hi, Ted. Hiya, boy. What you got? Another moneymaker for mid-central. Get out a lead sheet on it right away, will ya, Frankie? Sure. You know those two lines Al was having so much trouble with? Yep. I put him in myself. I saw him just before lunch and he was still having trouble, so I knocked him out myself. You? Yeah, me. So, uh, I'll pick up the lead sheets tomorrow, huh? Okay. You want it on the phone, Ted. Hurry. Okay. Why only excitement? It's the police department. Come on. Okay, okay. Take it easy. I haven't robbed any banks. It's about Al. Al? What's the matter with him? Oh, I don't know, but the officer found out you were Al's partner and he wanted to know if you were here. Maybe he's had an accident. No, no, not Al. He's too careful. Hello? Yes? Yes. What? Well, he couldn't be. Murdered. You say you saw your partner this morning, Mr. Gray? Yeah, that's right, Lieutenant. I got over there about 1145. He was all right? Fine. He was trying to finish the lyric to our latest number. We only needed two lines, so we made a couple of sandwiches, ate there in the apartment, and worked on it. Can you prove you were there at that time? No, I can't prove it, but I did buy some cigarettes at the drugist next to Al's apartment building. I think Mr. Adamson, the proprietor, will verify that statement. How long were you in your partner's apartment? Not very long. The lines came to me while we were eating. I went home, typed out the complete lyric, and took it out to Mid-Central Publishing Company. That's pretty fair alibi, but can you prove it? No, Lieutenant. After all, I wasn't planning on having to account for my time. Wait a minute. I can prove I came back to my apartment after I had lunch with Al. I talked with Mrs. Carter, the apartment manager, about a larger apartment. We'll check on your statements. The important thing is, where were you at three o'clock? At Mid-Central Publishing? I guess there's no way I can prove that either unless the receptionist happens to remember. We'll question her, of course. Well, you're not under suspicion, Mr. Gray, any more than anyone else. As a matter of fact, from what we learn, Al Wilson was a vital factor in your success. Oh, he was. Anyway, it looks like it was done on the impulse of the moment. He probably surprised someone in an attempted robbery. Someone entered and surprised him. Your partner was killed by a blow on the head. Bookender. Did your partner have much money in the house? Now that you mention it, Al's greatest weakness was displaying his wealth. He always carried a thousand or so with him on his person. It was probably robbery. But we do have to investigate every angle. Well, thank you for your cooperation. If we have any more questions, we'll phone you. And if I think of anything important, I'll phone you. Anything I can do to help catch Al's killer will be a pleasure. You return to your apartment, certain you're beyond the slightest suspicion. Next day, you phone Mid-Central Publishing. Learn that the police have double-checked your statements. And smile when you realize that Gracie, the absent-minded little receptionist, has verified your statement that you were at Mid-Central Publishing at the time Al Wilson was killed, just as you thought she would. Two days later, you receive a shock. You phone Corinne's office. Learn she returned from Seattle the morning Al was killed, that she tried to phone you and then left for San Diego the same evening. You get her San Diego address and send her a telegram. Tell her to be sure and be back in time to attend the Jute Box Jury radio program, when Roberta's recording of Front Porch will be presented to the public for the first time. Corinne agrees. And a few days later, you're both sitting in the audience at Peter Potter's Jute Box Jury radio program. You know, Ted, it seems, well, I don't know. It was only last week that Al— Al, don't think about it, honey. Al and I both promised Roberta she could have it the minute we finished it. He wouldn't have had it any other way, believe me. No, I suppose not. Look, Corinne, Al was the closest friend I ever had. We both agreed that if anything ever happened to either of us, the other one would go right ahead. I know. Sure you do. Naturally, you feel low, honey, being in love with Al. No, Ted. I was fond of Al, but I'm surprised you thought that. I thought you knew how I felt. You mean, you mean you love me, Corinne? Let's talk about it some other time. Oh, but I— Please, Ted. Of course, honey, only, well, you've made me happier than I've ever been. Ted. Yes? When did you tell me you finished that lyric? Just after lunch, the day Al was killed. The lines just, just came to me. Sure, it's useless to sigh and it's foolish to grieve, because what good are words that your heart won't believe? Can you imagine Al spending a week on a line like that? You did this right after you had lunch with him. Yeah? Yeah, here's the original typewritten copy. Got it back from the publisher a couple of days ago. He sent Roberta her lead sheet a few days ago. Ted, I, I—listen to me a minute. We'll talk later, honey. You're all excited now, and so am I. Look, you stay here. Catch things from out front. I'm going backstage and see Roberta for a minute before the show starts. Do you mind? No, Ted, I don't mind. Good, good. I'll be right back, right after the show's over, okay? Okay. What's so amusing, Ted? Oh, nothing's amusing, honey. Only, it's just like you said, okay. After what you told me tonight about the way you felt about me, I'm sure everything's going to be okay from now on out. Well, Ted, you're certain you've won, aren't you? You have complete ownership of Front Porch and all the other songs fashioned by you and your late partner, Al Wilson. And you learned just a few moments ago that lovely Corinne Mitchell, the one woman you've ever really loved, feels the same way about you. Standing in the wings a few feet off the semi-dark stage, your pulse quickens as Peter Potter announces that I'm going out on the front porch and cry is coming up next on Jukebox Jury. Now, jury, let's weigh the merits of another of America's brand new records. I want you to listen carefully and tell us if you can, will it be a hit or a miss? I'm going out on the front porch and cry. My sweetheart just said, it's goodbye. No reason, he said, just a note of farewell. So I'm going out on the front porch and cry. I'm lonely and blue. There's a pain in my heart. For my love was true and sincere from the start. I don't want to live, but I'm too young to die. So I'm going out on the front porch and cry. I'm going out on the front porch and cry. I'd like to give love one more try. Cause things went so wrong that he just said so wrong. So I'm going out on the front porch and cry. Sure, it's useless to sigh and it's foolish to grieve. Cause what good are words that your heart won't believe? I don't want to live, but I'm too young to die. So I'm going out on the front porch and cry. Thank you very much. That was the new one. I'm going out on the front porch and cry by Roberta Lynn. I want you to mark your ballots whether you think the record will be a hit or a miss. Then we'll start the discussion. Corrine? Yes, Ted? Where have you been? I've been looking for you for the last ten minutes. I went outside for a few minutes. Well, I told you I'd be back as soon as the program was over. Oh, I beg your pardon. I didn't realize you had a friend with you. That's all right. This is Lieutenant Roberts. Homicide. Homicide? Well, I knew Roberta was going to slay him tonight, but I didn't think she'd be arrested for it. She was, babe. I called the police, Ted, right after Pete finished playing the record. You? But why? Because you killed Al Wilson. Me? Well, you're crazy, Corrine. Al was... It had to be you, Ted. Now look, Corrine... Those few lines you said you wrote. Sure, it's useless to sigh and it's foolish to grieve, because what good are words that your heart won't believe? They were the tip-off, Ted. You said a little while ago you wrote those lines right after lunch the day Al was killed. Well, that's right. I did. You're lying, Ted. When you handed me this typewritten copy a few minutes ago, you told me the whole story. Those lines weren't your lines. Or even Al's. They were mine. They came to me about two o'clock the day Al was killed. More than an hour after you said you saw Al for the last time. I typed it on my portable, and then I took it over to Al. Then you did go to Al's apartment. Yes. I called you earlier. I couldn't get you, so I drove over to Al's. Well, maybe I did lie about those lines. That doesn't prove that I... It proves enough that I'm arresting you for the murder of Al Wilson, Mr. Gray. You see, Ted, I typed those lines on Al's portable, as I'm certain the police will be able to prove. I reached Al's apartment about 2.30 and left about a quarter of three. The coroner says Al was killed around three. Well, maybe he was. At three o'clock... You had just finished killing Al in his apartment. It couldn't have been anyone else, Ted. Only two people besides me could have possibly known those lines. Al Wilson and the man who killed him. BANG! BANG! Listen next week when once again the United States Air Forces in Europe present... The Whistler.
