 The Whistler, presented by the United States Air Force News 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. And now the Whistler's strange story. Mr. Pettibone's last journey. The London night was hot, sultry, and the narrow crooked streets deserted and quiet, except for the sound of laughter drifting out of the lion and hawk inn. Inside the smoke-filled pub, Russ Anders formerly of St. Louis, Missouri, sat alone at one of the tables, and his mood was anything but jovial as he puffed nervously on a cigarette and glanced from time to time toward the street entrance, and then suddenly, pushing through the crowd, a small, wiry-built man wearing a bowler hat approached him, shifting his umbrella from one arm to another, the small man bowled, frightened. Did you send her? Hmm? Oh, hello, Mr. Pettibone. Rightfully hot out, isn't it? Just for a storm, I'd say. Uh, yeah, I suppose so. But, mind if I sit down? Well, no, but... Eh, eh, better. Would you like a good lad, eh? My place with Sanders? No, no thanks. That'll do fine. Eh, now tell me, Sanders. Have some senior or charming wife about to flack recently. Did she weigh? Uh, yes, she's gone back to America. Where is she now? Illness in her family, yes. Put her on the plane a week ago. I see. And you, Mr. Sanders, you're going to stay on here in London? For some time, yes. Business. Uh, insurance business, isn't it? Uh, uh, Mr. Sanders. Hmm? Oh, uh, yes, yes. You're expecting someone to join you. I know you should keep launching. Call the street. Yeah, that's right. I'm a friend. I'm expecting a friend. Really? I'd hardly call him a friend now, would you? What? Uh, this gentleman, you're expecting the person who sent that note around to your small. What do you know about... Wait a minute. You! Well, see now, eh, Mr. Sanders, I shouldn't like her out. Hmm, please, just sit down like a... like a good chap. What? What do you want, Teddy Bonner? As my note explained, uh, a chap. A chap concerning your wife. What about either? I happen to know she didn't go back to America as you've been telling everyone. Really? I also happen to know the two of you had, uh, rather a violent quarrel. Oh, yes, I didn't see you. Tuesday night last. Yes, yes, that was it, Tuesday. I will have the entire affair. My flat, if you know, is directly above yours, and the light well carries sound so beautifully. Go on, Teddy Bonner. Uh, the following morning, the body of a woman had folding strips of all identification. It was found coating the pens, dark brown hair, 5 feet 2, weight 110. Your wife, Mr. Sanders, eh? You're in a weed field, little man. Am I? Ha, ha, ha, ha. I wonder if Stop and Yard was seen, sir. I wonder, sir. All right, all right, wait a minute. Sit down, Teddy Bonner. Sit down. Very well. Hmm, shall we say, uh, 1,000 pounds, Mr. Sanders? Is it starting? 1,000 pounds? You can see that the seriousness of the crime, sir. Murder. Oh, yes, yes, I must miss this on a Saturday. I often wondered what business you were in, Teddy Bonner, I never figured it was blackmail. And you, Mr. Insurance Augusta, swindled in your own firm with false unit claims. Are you more of a gentleman for a day? Ha, ha, ha. No. No, we'd have played a founder, Mr. Andrews. Oh, thank you, Betty. Here you are, my lad. There. There's the Sanders. Ah. Look, Teddy Bonner, I haven't got 1,000 pounds. But, uh, you'll get it, won't you? Say, by tomorrow noon? Tomorrow noon. No, it's important. I have to have it by then. I tell you, it's impossible. I can't get the money. You try, won't you, Mr. Andrews? Take my word for it, I shall have to take ten more in. Actually, I'd become quite fond of Mr. Sanders. Wonderful woman. You really shouldn't have killed him, you know. But good night. You watch this strange little man be moved out of the pub. One word from him to the police in your finish, don't you rush? Yes. But you know you can't do this fight. It's impossible. And so you will make up your mind quickly what you must do. You hurry outside. See and enter the tobacco shop on the corner. You race back to your flat. Up the fire escape to Mr. Teddy Bonner's bedroom window. Slip him side. You wait in the darkness. The quarter of an hour goes by. The room is hot and stuffy. You move to the window again. You draw back the drapery. The light from the flat across the light well hit you full in the face. And there's a young woman standing at the window, smiling at you. Hello. Fightfully warmer, isn't it? Yes, yes it is. Music bother you? I'm afraid it's a bit loud. No, no, I haven't noticed really. I just wanted a breath of fresh air. Now remember when it's been as hot in London this time of the afternoon? No, it's rather unusual weather, as they say. Eh, nice of you, Anders. Good night. She called you by name, didn't she, Russ? This woman in the flat across the light well. It's rendered you an acquaintance of yours, Tom Morris, but he's gone to the weekend, isn't he? And you wonder who she is, what she's doing there. Have you killed Pettibone tonight, as you know you must? She'll remember seeing you and she could tell the police, couldn't she? You wait another quarter hour, till Pettibone doesn't return. You pace back and forth, thinking things out. And then finally, realizing you can't wait any longer, you'll reach a decision. It's rather an unusual situation, isn't it, Russ? Yes. You've got to get rid of a witness, whoever she is, before you can commit the crime. Mr. Morgz isn't in, sir. Well, of course. Oh. Oh, Mrs. Wigston manager is. I heard enough on Mr. Morgz's door, so I thought it better to tell you he's on holiday and plastic. Last two days ago. I see. But I hear music inside. Ah. Mr. Morgz usually lets friends have a key to his flat when he goes away. I think one of them was there last without turning off the wireless. Hello? Hello? Anyone here? Just as I thought. That's the lights on, too. Whoever was here might be coming back. Perhaps. Perhaps not. I'll turn the wireless off in any case. The moment he slips into the room, you ease your hand around the door. Flip the latch and the lock. Then step back into the hall. Mrs. Wigston returns. You better goodnight. Hurry out. Five minutes later, you're back at Morgz's flat. Flip inside. You're certain the girl you spoke with a short time ago, the girl in the window of Morgz's flat, will return to you. And you're going to wait and make certain she doesn't have the chance to tell the police of seeing you in Pettibone's apartment. When you're certain no one is aware of your presence in the flat, you light a match. Begin to examine the apartment. Step behind the sofa. Stumble over something in the semi-darkness. See the body of a man. You bend down. Turn him over. Recognize him in the flickering light. Pettibone. Mr. Pettibone. The discovery of Pettibone's body and Tom Morgz's flat comes as a startling surprise, doesn't it, Russ? Yes. A startling but most pleasant surprise. Because you realize that the little blackmailer's depth puts you completely in the clear. And the position you found yourself in a few moments before has suddenly been reversed. You are now the witness. And the young woman you saw in Morgz's flat is the killer. You turn on the small desk lamp. Look around the room. Furnished in excellent taste, isn't it, Russ? Expensively. You smile as you wander through the rest of the flat. As an idea begins to take shape in your mind. Then as you return to the living room, you try and place the girl you saw in the window. You're sure you've seen her before? Suddenly you remember where you've met her. Yes. She was with Tom Morgzby at the lion and hawk inn a few weeks ago. And now you will call her name too. Alma. Alma Benner. You begin a systematic search of the flat because you're certain that Alma killed Mr. Pettibone. Get the motive with blackmail and then possibly Tom Morgzby is involved. Then finally you find something in the bureau drawer. Something very interesting, Russ. Yes. A marriage license issued to Tom Morgzby and Alma Benner. All right, you all understand. It's whiskey and soda. Oh, thanks, Russ. Now, what are we chatting about? Oh, yes. Mr. Morgzby. He's a barn lady. He's a barn lady. He comes from a farm family too, is that it? Quite wealthy, I suppose. He brought some, he said, for life, he is. He's coming to a packet when his girlfriend's on. Besides, we're fortunate. Yeah, a lucky guy. I've seen his girlfriend too. He's really a lucky guy. Can you tell me a bit of a smart arrangement? As they say back in the States, a living doll. What's it some club, don't you? A singer she is. Works at the West End Club. It's a bit too gaudy and expensive for my taste, you understand? Give me a cozy little place like the lion and orc any time, I say. I think I agree with you, Bruce. Well, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Morgzby, it's almost closing time. I'll see if the lads want another. Yeah, yeah, sure. You're anxious to have a little talk with Alma Benner, aren't you, Russ? Yes. And after you finish your drink, you hurry outside. Start down the street. And then as you near the corner, a car suddenly pulls up at the curb. Hello there. Oh. Hello, Morgzby. Give you a lift back to the flat? Um... Yeah, thanks. Here. How to pop this suitcase into the bag? There we are. Pop in. Yeah. And then on a trip? Yes. My father's place. Whether or not it would be better than this. I understand you're having a bit of a scorcher, eh? Yeah, I've been swallowing in this heat since closing. Too hot for sleep? No, I'm not. I take a stroll, find a tobacco shop, and pick up some cigarettes. I'm fresh out. And I'm a failure out of luck, old man. Or find another clue. Uh, here's the part, though. I have some at the flat. You're welcome to them. Well, thanks. You can't help but smile, can you, Russ? There's no more of me up to his flat. He's going to be in for a surprise, isn't he? When he finds Mr. Teddybone's spot. But then, as the two of you step inside, you're the one who will surprise. The body is gone. Something wrong, old man? Uh, no. Nothing. Hmm. What a spot you have here, more of me. I like it. Quite comfortable and all that. Put it over there on the table and help yourself. Thanks. How about a cold drink? I could certainly use one. Fine. Make mine a Coca-Cola. You know, you really got a nice place here. You mind if I sort of look around? Not at all. That's the bedroom in there. As you move into the bedroom, you grant around quickly. But there's no sign of Teddybone's body. You open a closet door quietly. Look inside. You see, a small femur trunk. A name printed on the side. I'm a banner. You try it a lot. But it won't open. And us? Yeah, yeah. It's coming. Oh, there you are. I hope you didn't mind my browsing around. Of course not. Here's your drink. Thanks. Well, cheers. Happy day. Cheers. Happy day. Hello, Alma. Hello, Mr. Anders. I went over to the club to catch your act, but you didn't put in an appearance for the last show. Storeman gave me your address. I... I wasn't feeling well. Teddybone had it. May I come in? What do you think? I'm not feeling very well. Neither is Mr. Teddybone. Come in. If you're willing to dispense with the femtine, the double top will both fade a lot of time, sweetheart. What's in your mind? It is rough, isn't it? Yeah. Well... May I sit down? Of course. I had a nice little chap to drink with your husband earlier, see me? What gave you the idea? I was mad at him. This? A marriage license. Don't grab, sweetheart. Where did you get that? In Tom Moore's apartment. I also found Mr. Teddybone there, and as they say in the paperback novels, he was very, very good. So... So, Scotland Yard might be interested in that trunk of yours, the one in Moore's these flats. That's where you put Mr. Teddybone, right? What's your side line? Where didn't you leave, Mr. Anders? I'm good at hunting. As you killed Teddybone, you ran out of the flat, got back to the club to do your act in the second show. Right. Then you went back to Moore's these flats because you had to get the body out of the way. You knew Tommy Boy was coming home tonight, right? Right. Don't bring this up to go. Definitely. Not quite. There are a few details. No, sure, I won't bore you. Try them. All right, Russ. Mr. Teddybone sent me this document, and then he said he wanted to talk with me. He decided to meet with Connors Black. If you want more money, I suppose. Teddybone had been blackmailing you and Moore's, because he found out you've been secretly married. Mm-hmm. Mr. Tommy's father didn't approve of me as a wife for his son. Might have even threatened to disinherit the lad if you two were married. Cut him off without a cent, huh? Of course, yes. Mr. Tommy, of course, didn't mind. If you use this, one of the two can live on not. But you're not. I'm a girl with a sensitive face. Mm-hmm. Well, I must say, Alma, you've been very cooperative, volunteering all this information. And now I suppose your plan needs to carry on for Mr. Teddybone. I mean, without a cent. Don't bother. You already know that this need to do anything about... anything, Russ. Why? I know too much about you. And what happened to your wife, he did. Oh, you're terrible. You're disappointed, aren't you, uh... How did you...? Mr. Teddybone and I have been sort of partners for years. You're a real sweet girl, Alma. Real sweet girl. Yes, I said I'm a girl with a sensitive face. And the allowance Tommy was given to his father just wasn't enough. So you figured a way to get more. Teddybone blackmailed Tommy and you got your cut of the tape. You can. Unfortunately, Mr. Teddybone got a bit too greedy. He said he decided he needed a lot of cash and a hoe to buy some... You could have a copy during the country. He'd always wanted to acquire the country. And you didn't like that, did you? You were afraid Tommy wouldn't hold still for it. Okay, Alma, what's all this add up to now? I don't know. I suppose I'll have to find a replacement for Teddybone. That could be quite a problem for you. Well, it could. On the other hand, it could be very simple. Really? Sure. I could take up where Mr. Teddybone left off. You'd still get your preventative and I wouldn't get too greedy. That sounds rather interesting. I just hold it in and down, wouldn't I? I'd stay, huh? All right. You're a partner. Now how about our big problem? What do you mean? I mean getting rid of that. My first assignment, huh? Okay. I'll figure out a way. Morning, Russ. Hi, Alma. Come in. How'd you make out? Did you do what I told you? Exactly. I talked with Tommy on the phone until a time ago. Told him to tip my truck to his car to the tendency. Good. It'll work, Alma. I know it will. It had better. We're in this together, Russ, all the way. I told Tommy I wanted to get away for a while. Take a nice holiday. This is all for it. Even when you told him you'd like to be alone the first few days? He's positive, isn't he? Good stuff. I'll help you with it. Okay. What train are you taking tonight for Hampton? On the 12 or 7. I have to stop by Tommy's flat to take up the chump key and some other things first. I'll meet you at the station. I'll be there. Well, even though I like to pay my debts, so I'm replacing the cigarette I borrowed from you last night. Now you're needing this, bother. Well, like I said, aren't you? Oh, excuse me. I didn't know you had company. That's quite all right. You've met my fiancé, Miss Alma Benner, haven't you? Oh, yeah. Yeah, it's a lion and the hawk. Some weeks ago. Sitting in the corner? Sit down, Ender. Sit down. No, no, really. I only stopped by for a moment. I'm since happy to have you join us. I was about to open a bottle of champagne. Champagne? Oh, darling. What's the occasion? Corneter, a growing away celebration. Now, you two sit tight for a moment. Be right back. I thought we'd agreed to meet at the station last. Sure. Sure, I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn't back out at the last minute. You need to get ready. I'm only wondering if we're paying the smart this way. Sure, we are. If Tommy ever gets tired of paying black mail, I'll have a nice hold on him with Mr. Pettibone, buried under a cottage. Yes, Russ. Mr. Pettibone will soon be out of your way forever. Facely hidden in a quiet grave beneath Tom Morsby's cottage at Hensley's. It's what you need to keep Morsby in line should he ever become weary of paying off black mail. It's perfect, isn't it? And you're certain your new partner, Alma Benner, sees it that way too, as you sit further and Morsby's fast. All right, Russ. But remember, if anything goes wrong, we're in together. I won't hesitate a moment to tell the police about your wife. Don't worry. Something's going to go wrong. Oh, here we are. The finest champagne I could get. Uh, you said this was a going-away celebration, Morsby. That's right, Mr. Anders. I'm leaving on holiday. Then send a few quiet weeks to Tom's cottage in Hensley. Correct, darling. I've made other plans. Other plans? Being sort of holding it back is a surprise. You see, I had a long talk with my father the last time down in politics. I told him the whole story. What story is this, Morsby? The truth of the matter is, old man, Almond and I have been married for over a year. You told your father we were married? Right. Decided to have it out with him once and for all. And would you believe it? The old boy's had a change of heart. Given his blessing, wants to meet you, darling. I thought it'd be clean. Oh, of course I am, Tom. Of course. So I decided we'd go down to Suffolk together. Yes, but Morsby's the punk. Chanted on to my father's place. To the drive by now. Don't worry, darling. I sent the keys along, too. Instructed the housekeeper to open it up as soon as it got there and hang up your thing. I think we'd better get out of here, Alma. I say, what's wrong, Andrew? No time to explain. Wait. Hello? You're Tom Morsby? Well, no. No, I'm not. I'm Morsby. Who are you? Inspector Crell of Stockman Yard. May I come in? First. Yes, of course. But I'd like to have a chat with you. About a trunk. The man named Pettibone. Oh, well, then you don't need me. Wait a minute, Russ. We're in this together. I told you if your plan didn't work, I'd talk. It didn't work. Listen next week when once again the United States Air Horses in Europe presents The Whistler. The Whistler has come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service. This is the American Forces Network in Europe.