 Personal notice, taint is my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West, invites you to let George do it. Solo and Whispers, another adventure of George Valentine. Dear Mr. Valentine, really I do need your help to figure it out. Because it's rather the sort of thing that makes a man lose a lot of sleep. And at the age of 45, I find that sleep is almost as important as food. You see, I went to the gate this morning, our place is out in the country. And there was a messenger with a package and I signed for it. Nothing extraordinary there. And you'll probably think there's nothing extraordinary when you have to sign for a package along with this letter. Hey, what's this, Bruxy? Package? Uh-huh, it came with a letter. Oh, what's in it? Well, a record. I already unwrapped it. Anyway, Mr. Valentine... It's only a graph record. Looks like a blank one from here. No, no, the other side, I guess. Oh, yeah. But it's still blank in the middle. No label. Go on. Um, anyway, Mr. Valentine, I'd appreciate a call from you on the subject of why it is unnecessary to explain my whisper. Whisper? What's that, is what? No, that's what he says. Why it is unnecessary to explain my whisper. Oh, well, maybe it isn't his. It's in quotes, George. And that's all. Sincerely, Pietro Seville. Huh? Come on, come on, play the record. Here we are. Okay. Pietro Seville, the man by the bar whisper. You too can hear, boys. You can hear horns and drums, too, if you got it bad enough. Sounds like he got his records mixed. Yeah, I've heard that. Number of the son, Rimsky Corsica. Angel, you should be on a question. Only, that's kind of a peculiar whisper, wouldn't you say? Yeah. Maybe he just heard this played too much. It's too pompous. I'm from an opera, George, LeCouc d'Or. Not the only one I remember. I thought twice about it. So who? The Golden Cockerel by Rimsky. I know, so I'm getting an education, but I don't see what that's... George, maybe Mr. Seville is bothered by a woman. He sounded like the type of woman. What he offers about, I think, is her fantasy. It's about a king who's given this magic golden rooster to watch over him and his kingdom, and he finally strikes down the king himself with its beak. How gay. Queen. She sings this song. She's the one who makes the fool out of the king. She really takes him over the ropes, and yet he won't give her up. Ah, choice ever thus. Nice melody, though, isn't it? Still no whisper. What on earth was he talking about? Well, see, there's only one way to find out. That's to ask him right back. Well, personally, I think he's a little... I will soon find out. Hold everything. Hello? Hello. Mr. Pietro Seville, please. Will you call him? Mr. Pietro Seville can't come to the telephone, Valentine. He's dead. Hey, who is this? Riley? Yeah, listen, Valentine, get out of here fast. Will you? Seville's been murdered. He was trucked down by the golden beak of a rooster. A rooster? Yeah, yeah, you heard me. A thing called the Golden Cockerel. Somebody called it. But it's just a fancy, gold-headed cane. Well, it's shaped like a beak, isn't it? A rooster's beak, Miss Brooks? Seville was stuck over the head with it, huh? Well, it's sure heavy enough. Yeah, I'll say it was. His wife first attacked the fancy name on her when she saw the thing lying beside the body. You see, this happens to be the house of the opera star, Pietro Seville. Oh, so that's... and his wife? Yeah, yeah, his wife's Lorna Seville's soprano. Of course, Lorna Seville. Ah, so this record he sent was the right one. Opera all over the place. I suppose it was. You sent it to him. And why? I told you what I said about the cook door. The story of it. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sure, Miss Brooks. But this guy and his wife were happy enough. I think they just got back from Europe. And why did she say Golden Cockerel the minute she saw this cane? How should I know? But what did she say she meant? She didn't. But didn't you ask her? How could I? She fainted. Well, maybe she heard the record. Her husband, God, was thinking about it. That's all. Yeah, maybe a million things in a case like this. A guy gets a phonograph record with music for a set and opera and then gets killed by the same weapon. What kind of a kid? You know that record was all made? Huh? Yes, you could tell. Oh, I don't mean the singing part, the music, but it must have been a re-recording. Someone must have taken the regular commercial record and copied it. You know how to take a pretty fancy machine to do that on, wouldn't you? That's what I mean, George. A big console job with its own microphone and all kinds of stuff. Like that one right over there. Hey. Mind if I take a look? I brought the record along. Hey, wait a minute, really. Yeah. No other clues, not one. Oh, why ask me? The body was right back there by the door. Yeah, yeah. The door was half-open. So it could have been somebody from the outside or somebody from the inside. And if it was outside, the murderer couldn't have been seen. Oh, you two can own an exclusive hillside lot with a beautiful view of the rocks from the valley and not another house for over a half mile. You two can have privacy and never be seen. All right, all right. I get the idea. Nobody saw anything. I'll meet you downtown, Riley. Right now, I'm going to send for Mississippi. Well, Mr. Valentine. Mrs. Seville, you have a face that a man would never forget. Most men notice my figure, too. I've been in a good many newspapers, Mr. Valentine. Sometimes the critics even notice my voice. Oh, well, I'm not trying to offend. Everyone notices your voice. It's very wonderful. But I remember a picture about two years ago. You were mixed up in the breakup of the Carlotti Opera Company. We both used to sing for Carlotti. Pietro and I, why? Oh, I don't know. I just remember it that so. There was a lot of talk in the scandal column, sir, something about a fight. What a lovely memory. Of course it was a fight, a beautiful fight. It took three stage hands to break it up and a foolish young man from the chorus even went to the hospital, I'm told. Oh, you've never seen such a scandalous fight. All I saw was that that's what broke up the opera company. My husband died early for Europe, that's all. We had engagements to fill. Engagements, I tell you. The cause of the fight was you and some playboy baritone. Stop it, stop it, stop it. All right, all right, I'm sorry. It might have been just gossip. We had nothing to do with this, Mr. Valentine. With Pietro's death. There's no conceivable connection. Fine. My husband and I were quite happy. Now, please. Please, won't you leave me? Yeah, but see. George, come here. I found it, the whisper. What? The whisper was on the record. I said one side of it was blank, remember? But here, look. This just looked like a border. But it's three or four grooves right around the edge. Listen. So that's what Savelle was talking about. I am sure it is unnecessary to explain my whisper because the music on the other side will explain itself. What? Yes, that's all it is. Here, play it again. I am sure it is unnecessary to explain my whisper because the record on the other side will explain itself. And the music did explain itself, didn't it, George? The man was killed by the Golden Cockroach. Mrs. Savelle, whose voice is that? The whisper? Don't you know? No, I don't. Just a whisper. That's why whoever it is whispers to keep anyone from knowing. You can close the machine now, Miss Brooks. My husband couldn't figure it out. I can't figure it out. I'm certain you can. Hey, Brooksy, is that the record you brought out here, the same one? Of course it is. Yes, George. You saw me bring it. The one Pietro Savelle sent us, the one he received. What makes you so positive, Mrs. Savelle? And why didn't you want Miss Brooks playing around with this machine? Why have you been staring at me? Mr. Valentine, please. George. Yeah, Brooksy. Another record, just like the other one. Here, let me see. Here, play it. The same groove and explained in the middle. I'm sure it is unnecessary to explain my whisper, because the music on the other side will explain itself. Come on, come on. Turn it over. But it's exactly the same. Looks just like the other one. George, it's not the same. All right, Mrs. Savelle. Let's have the story on this record fast. The record, Mr. Valentine? What about the record? Don't you know it? Aren't you familiar with my greatest success? Salome. Thank you, my dear. Yes, it's Salome. It's Salome's dad. But this record, where did it come from? You know, I rather wish I knew that myself. A postman brought it just this afternoon, and there didn't seem to be a return address. To you, right? It came to you. Yes, to me. Isn't that funny? Oh, no. No, Mr. Valentine, I don't know anything else. And if you'll excuse me, I'm going upstairs. I'm walking upstairs. George, she got a record, but she didn't want it to know about it. Even after her husband. I know, but skip it. Now, listen, Brooksy. What's this opera about? Well, come on, come on, think. I'm trying to remember. It's based on the Bible story, I guess. Salome's dance toward King Herod. She demanded the head of John the Baptist. What happened to her? I don't remember. Get up there. Get after her, Mrs. Savelle. Follow her upstairs. Whether she likes it or not, stay with her. I'm going to phone Riley. She's not there, George. This is the Butler pond. Okay, Buster, where did Mrs. Savelle go? Just outside, sir. What's wrong? I told the madam about the wire I took over the fortune. The wire? Western Union. I wrote it down. Here, give me that. I'm at my place down the canyon. Please come at once. Signed Eric Stanton. Please down the canyon. It's less than a mile around the hill trail. But who is it? Who's Eric Stanton? He used to be with the Savelle's in the old Calate opera company. An old friend. A singer. A baritone. Slow down, will you, Mrs. Savelle? I don't want you with me. You're going to have to stand me, lady. Oh, George. He'll sprain an ankle running in that narrow trail. Pull those rocks on the side of the hill. I'll get her. I said slow down, lady. All right. She didn't slip. The trail just gave way on her. I'm afraid she's dead. Crushed her before she even knew what happened. But that record, George, follow me. I remember now. At the end of the opera, someone was crushed to death. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Third day out on your vacation motoring trip. Everybody's up bright and early, ready to get going again. New scenic splendor, new carefree vacation miles. But, oh, car won't start. What's wrong? Dead battery. Well, that's only what might happen on your trip. To avoid such a delay, get a thorough battery checkup before you start out. It's a car saver service you can get at independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations. So why not have your battery checked tomorrow? They'll make sure the cables are free of corrosion, that water in the battery is at the proper level, and they'll take cell readings. Then for your trip or for your everyday driving, you'll be sure of plenty of battery power for starting your car, for keeping lights bright, for better radio reception. Ask for this car saver service at a standard station or an independent Chevron gas station, where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. And now, back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. It is unnecessary to explain my whisper, because the music on the other side will explain itself. These few words on a record and on the other side, music from an opera, the beautiful Lorna Cervio received such a record with the music of Salome, and now she's dead, like Salome, crushed to death. Her husband Pietro, the aging opera star, received his death notice in the form of music from the cook door. He too died in the same way as the hero of that opera. If your name is George Valentine, you can't help accepting this case as a personal challenge. I don't know, if I'd only moved a little faster, I might have saved Lorna Cervio. No, George, you couldn't have helped her. Ah, the tray was rigged in advance, Valentine. Don't you understand? Nobody ever used it, and it had been weakened so much that the weight of a mouse would have started the rocks rolling. The program sent from that Eric Stanton brought her onto the tray. Hey, you're not going to start reading that book again, are you, Valentine? The stories of the operas. I swipe it from the Seville's library, Riley. Well, I'm not complaining. Go ahead, go ahead, find the answer. I'd love one. How many operas are there? A hundred maybe, and at least half of them ending in death. Real fancy best circle desk that somebody's copying to... Yeah, yes, Sergeant, what is it? No point in going up to that other house, that Eric Stanton's place. Why not? The place is all boarded up. There hasn't been anybody in that house for months. All right, buddy. The telegram was deliberately sent to get Lorna Seville killed. But before you start scaring yourself over what might happen to 50 other people, let's stick to what we know. The man Carlotti, I told you about. The one who owned the opera. That's our job, Riley. Find Carlotti. See, see, it used to be the Carlotti opera, but now all I own is the Nempty Theater. I am not what you would call a practicing impresario. Mr. Carlotti, the company broke up two years ago, right? When Mr. Bilt was singing here in town. Oh, such wonderful voices, both of them. See, you are right. Now, they left immediately for Europe, a lot more likely it was to break one, yours. It was a big scandal and a fight and all kinds of things. Oh, no, no, Mr. Valentine, I would not... That one man landed in the hospital and it took three minutes. Yes, yes, I closed the opera the next day. I have lost touch with everyone. It happens that way. But to blame... When Pietro received his record, he sent it to me. But when his wife received one, even after she knew what had happened to Pietro, she kept quiet. On top of that, she gets a wire signed Eric Stanton. Do you see what I'm driving at? Yes. Yes, it was Stanton. Always Stanton. He had such a smile, so many women, such a voice. And in coach door, the king refused to give up the queen. Two years ago, that was the reason for the fight. Pietro, he had just discovered that Stanton so foolhardy, self-confident, who alone was only confused and decided, yes, they fight, they even threatened to kill each other. Pietro kidnapped his wife to Europe, and Stanton, too, is gone to South America. Everyone is upset, of course, but... Fine, he's such a healer. Mr. Calari, Lana Seville kept quiet today because she thought she knew who's whispered was. Who sent the records? And she had to find out for herself. Then I suppose I must tell you, Stanton is in town. What? Books and call records. I see him in the street opposite Richter's music building. A month ago. He's not singing this season. Just the soul shall visit. He has an apartment. I wish I could protect him more from what you are thinking. Yeah, kind of you. But there's no time for that now. This may be where Stanton lives, but he sure ain't here now. Hey, Riley, over here. What is it, George? We set it to take a re-recording to do this. Well, look there. Look! Yeah, ain't you'll build into the wall. I see. Holy smoke! There's a turntable, a microphone, the works. It's even more complete than the one at the Seville. Wait a minute. The wastebasket here, look. A record. A platter that's scratched and cracked. A couple of chips broken out of it. A record just like the others. Sure, even a professional couldn't make home recordings without making a few mistakes and arson up a platter of soup. Yeah? They're kind of thick. Gender says Eric Stanton left here just a few minutes ago. What's that? Yeah. He went down to a place called Richter's. Some big music place where you buy phonograph records. My dear sir, we sell more phonograph records than any other company in the city. Our classical section on third floor has... I'd never mind the advertising. And when it comes to opera... I'd just ask you if the... Our salesman has even... I said wait a minute. Yeah, look at this. Oh, dear me. What a beautiful bed. That's better, Buster. Eric Stanton's here. The better tone? Nearly all great names come to us. He said is he here now? That's what I was talking about. Yes, upstairs buying records, I think. He comes quite often. Such a gage. The stairway's over here. Come on, Bowens. Wait a minute, Riley. Stanton can't get away. Look, friend, do you know opera yourself? Come here, over here, the demonstration. Well, of course, my field is really instrumental and it will my like bop. I don't know how much I can get out of a crack, but you listen. Oh, dear me. It is quite interrelated, isn't it? Skip it. Just listen. I really don't understand. Bowens, that record's different from the others. Of course it is, Bowen. How about it, friend? Oh, that's a magnificent thing. Mozart. Yes, Mozart. Yes. Mozart what? It's from Don Giovanni, the champagne opera. It's such a shame the salesman can't sing it for you. It's such a tragedy. Poor chap. Don Giovanni, eh? What? Remember I've been reading a book, Riley? This is one opera we're going to beat to the final curtain. Hey, what's that? Don't you know? Step on it, run. No, it's not. Come on, Riley. Hey, listen. That's a scene record. Uh, Giovanni? Sure. Somebody's even got the stage set for it. Stanton. Stanton, why? Riley's not here, Valentine. Those booze. Try those booze. You've only got a minute. What? Don't you smell the smoke? That bell was the fire alarm. Hey, Stanton! But how do you know he's here? Yeah, Riley, this one. Oh, it's locked. In the opera, Don Giovanni couldn't escape the fires that were there to burn him. You ever stand back with you? Come on, once more. Let's hit it together. Stanton. Stanton. Stanton. Stanton. Stanton. Stanton. Stanton. Hey, stop. Hurry. It's still funny at times. Congratulations. No time to score. Pick it up. So is the murderers, Riley. So is the murderers. Now this is the place, Bruxy. Shut the street tiller. Lieutenant Riley's still back at the fire? Taking her extent to the hospital. Here we are, at these iron steps. It's so dark. Nothing emptier than the empty theater, is it? We're on opera house backstage. The office must be just ahead up there. Look, see, I could have waited for Stanton to wake up. Somehow I think the murderer will be moving fast right now. Here we are. Senior Milo Calotti. No casting today. No singers required. That's a dusty sign. Not here. The place is empty. George, are you sure Stanton knows? Don't play any clues. It's not kind of a case. There's a mad man, but not a mad man who goes around killing everybody. Well, all those people were tied up together. Lonnie Savelle, her husband, Eric Stanton, two years ago. More than that, Bruxy. They wrecked things together, even though they probably never realized how much trouble they caused with their explosive little love triangle. They made Mr. Calotti close his opus. There's a lot of things I still don't know myself. The character at Donna Giovanni, though, that helps. Oh. It really ties the murders up with that rough and ready night two years ago. Donna the Temptress dies like Salome. Gay throw the old food in the cook door. And now Don Giovanni. It's Don Juan, the playboy, the Liberty. Typecast. Oh, but such an involved plan of vengeance. What a machine. The door is open. It's a quick shot. No, no, wait a minute. Uh, who is it? I've come out. Mr. George, he's on the stairs. His whisper. His whisper. That's what we've been wrong about, Bruxy. Thinking he was somebody hiding his real voice. It's so nice to find you here, Senior. That guy isn't Calotti. It's somebody coming here to kill him. But so many steps, Senior. The whisper that Stanton must have recognized and gone straight to confront to ask why. A man who has to talk that way. You can't talk anywhere else. Sure, that's why he whispers. Now, Mr. Calotti, I shall tell you what I've done, what I'll do to you, what I've done. Oh, no, you're not busters. Let go. Who are you? Well, we... We might ask you the same question. I'm not so sure, Angel. Maybe we can guess. Who could have locked Stanton in that booth and set that fire? Who'd be in the best place to make phonograph records? Who'd have a chip on his shoulder big enough to kill people because he lost his voice? It was greater than Stanton's. It was greater than Seville's. Huh? Calotti never would admit it, but it was my voice. Mine... listened to it for two years, just an echo. I know, I know, friend. You're pretty sorry for yourself, aren't you? You work in the music store, don't you? The salesman there. The salesman me. The one in the floor walker said it sung an opera. Said it was so tragic, such a shame you couldn't sing for us now. Oh, no, no, I will sing if you don't... There's somebody else who got hurt in the big fight. When it took three stage hands to break it up. And a foolish man from the chorus was even sent to the hospital. I should have sung leading roles, but I was not to the floor. The stage brace hit my throat. It was their fault. He closed the company. I never had another chance until now until... It's your fault! Hey, it's your fault! It's your fault! It's your fault! It went right over, folksy. Oh, he's not moving. He hit the floor. He hit the stage. Well, maybe that's what he always wanted. Sent a stage. But I'm afraid there's no opera that ends this way. It was a terrible thing that happened to him. A singer to lose his voice. And often just an accident. Thoughtless quarrel between some other people and he was just a bi- Ah, that was just his version, his books. They didn't know he'd been hurt that badly. Stanton even said he went around to the hospital afterwards but the guy wouldn't even see him. And Carlotti offered financial help but the guy said him down. Carlotti says he never had a voice in the first place. Just a failure who wanted something to blame it on. Boy, I thought mysteries were rough for grand opera. Holy smoke. Burry him alive, burn him up, stab each other. So let's forget it for a while and get some different kind of music. All right, darling. I'll calm you down with the radio. Rippling rhythm, maybe? All right, sweet jazz. That's it, Angel. Send him out a little stuff that relaxes. I'll be glad when you're dead, you'll basketball you. Oh, no! When you turn off the main highways this summer into dusty, dry roads, remember that nothing can harm those precision-fitted parts in your car's engine faster than the rest. So for extra protection, use RPM motor oil and have it changed at regular intervals. Ask year-round rural motorists. They'll tell you more people prefer RPM motor oil than any other brand. The reason RPM is first choice where driving is tough is clear enough. RPM is compounded to keep engines clean and to prevent damage of fine engine parts by foreign matter. At the regular drain and refill period, rust and carbon particles are drained out of the used oil. And that's just one of the common-sense reasons why RPM is first choice where driving is toughest, why it's the best engine insurance you can buy. Why not start giving your car longer engine life tomorrow? Just ask for RPM motor oil. Ask at standard stations and independent chevron gas stations where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Robert Bailey is starred as George with Virginia Greg as Brooksy. Let George do it is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by Don Clark. Wally Mayer is Lieutenant Riley. Irene Tedrow was heard as Lorna, Norman Fields as Kalati, Bill Boucher as Seville, Ted Osbrin as the man, Music Clerk and Bob Griffin as the whisperer. The music is arranged and presented by Eddie Dunstetter. Your announcer, John Easton. Listen again next week, same time, same station too. Let George do it. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.