 The Adventures of Sam Spade, Detective, brought to you by Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic, the non-alcoholic hair tonic that contains lanolin. Wild Root Cream Oil, again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. I'm Spade Detective Agency, good evening. That sounds funny and diolite. Good evening to you and happy 4th of July, Bernardine Hemp. Oh, Mr. Spade, what was the capper? Don't you mean caper? No, the capper, the crescendo, the pinafore. That's better, for a minute, I was afraid you were learning English. Oh, no, I'm studying Spanish. Soy, infeliz, canesia... Yeah, yeah, yeah. Mucho interesting. Gracias. Shall I go home now? No, Malsuerte. There's a little matter of murder in two languages, neither of which is Spanish, so stay where you are. I'll be right down to dictate my report on the rush light diamond caper. Daschle Hammett, America's leading detective fiction writer and creator of Sam Spade, the hard-boiled private eye, and William Spear, radio's outstanding producer, director of mystery and crime drama, join their talents to make your hair stand on end with the adventures of Sam Spade, presented by the makers of Wild Root Cream Oil for the hair. Listen, man, to this holiday tip on good grooming to help spark up your whole appearance, first be sure that your hair is well groomed. Be sure it's groomed with popular Wild Root Cream Oil hair tonic. Wild Root Cream Oil grooms your hair neatly and naturally the way you like it, the way she likes it. Wild Root Cream Oil also relieves annoying dryness, removes loose ugly dandruff. So look your best all the time by sprucing up right with Wild Root Cream Oil hair tonic. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. And now with Howard Duff starring as Spade, Wild Root brings to the air the greatest private detective of them all in the adventures of Sam Spade. Date, July 4, 1948, to Mrs. May Rushlight, 21A, Granite Court from Samuel Spade, license number 177596. Subject, the Rushlight Diamond. Dear Mrs. Rushlight. It was the kind of nice relaxing assignment that comes my way just often enough to remind me that gum chewing can be respectable. There was an air of quiet elegance about 21A, Granite Court, and about the butler who answered the door. He took in my rented gray topper and those skin gloves, knotted approvingly at my wing collar, watered silk ascot, pearl gray waistcoat, morning coat, pinstripe trousers, and my spats with the mother of pearl buttons, and asked me if I were a florist. I set him the rights and he led me up a flight of stairs to the early AM annex of your morning room. Mr. Samuel Spade. You're just on time, Mr. Spade. Mrs. Rushlight will be pleased. I'm Nancy Ward, Mrs. Rushlight's social secretary, and if you don't think that's tough to say, try it. Mrs. Rushlight's socials? I don't know what's tough about that. You'll do. Definitely you'll do. Shall we dance? I will dance at her wedding. But don't get me wrong, I'm not secretly in love with Ralph Rushlight and the bride is lovely to take to see all that money going down the drain. Is there anything else you think I should know? You know what your job is. You're supposed to guard the wedding present. That's simple because it's nothing but a lot of cheap silver. And stay away from the champagne. It's non-vintage. The food will be foul. The guests are the most dismal aggregation ever assembled. Sounds like a lovely party. I arranged the whole thing. I told you she's a lovely bride. What's she ever do to you? I'd rather not say. I don't want to sound bitter. This way, Mr. Spade. The old hat. Mrs. Rushlight will see you now. Thank you. Florence Nightingale. Nancy? Oh. This is it, darling. Mr. Spade. You come over here, young man, so I can get a better look at you. How's this? It's good. Turn around. Yes, you'll do. That'll be all, Nancy. Or couldn't I be finishing up these place cards while you talk? Take them with you. Do them outside. Very well. Nosey girl. But nice. Nice nose. Oh, you too, eh? Well, I agree. That's why I'm marrying off my nephew to that wretched girl, Lottavan Ike. Have you ever seen Bugs Bunny, Mr. Spade? You don't mean the... They protrude. The ears? No, the teeth. As my late husband used to say of her mother, she could eat a tomato through a tennis racket. There's only one thing that'll prevent this wedding from being a not a disaster. She doesn't understand much English. What's the matter with your nephew? A great deal, but it doesn't show. Suffice it to say, he has criminal tendencies in the mentality of a snail. Mrs. Rushlight, I don't like to seem forward, but why are you telling me all this? Oh, you're supposed to mingle with the guests. You'll need some conversation. Now, as to your assignment, the bride, being what she is, the wedding presents are hardly worth guarding, except for one. Ironically enough, it's from me. What is it, a machine gun? Oh, that's good. Oh, excuse me, I must write that down. And then tear it up immediately. Oh, dear. No, no, Mr. Spade, but it's bad luck, the Rushlight Diamond. You've heard of it? Something about it in the American weekly a while back, wasn't it? Yes, yes. It's not as large as the Hope Diamond, but there's not a flaw in it. My late husband, Roy Rushlight, bought it for his first wife. She sank with the SS General's Slocum in Hellgate, the East River, 1904, over a thousand lives lost. Luckily, she was wearing a paste copy at the time. I was only a young girl when I married Mr. Rushlight, and a fool that I was, I signed anything his lawyers asked me to sign. After his death, I discovered that the diamond was to be mine, only until the marriage of my husband's male heir, at which time it must go to his bride. Well, that's too bad. You say, though, that the Rushlight Diamond is bad luck. Oh, there is that, of course. I wonder if it's too much to hope. Well, I must go and help dress the bride. Go along downstairs, Mr. Spade, take this jewel case with you. Put it on the table with the other presents, and guard it well. So I took the old velvet-covered case you held out to me and checked the contents. It was an old-fashioned lavalier with a clear stone pendant only slightly smaller than an eight-ball. Didn't look like a diamond, but smooth-cut diamonds hardly ever do. It didn't look like bad luck either, but a mirror broke in the hall as I passed it, and I fell all the way down the stairs, and as I entered the ballroom, I knocked over a punch-ball. Nothing really terrible happened until just before dark when the guests began to arrive. In theory, a detective guarding wedding presents is supposed to make himself indistinguishable from the other guests. In practice, it never works out that way. He has to spend most of his time within sight of the booty, so he is very easily spotted. I don't believe it. He's too good-looking. Oh, but he must be. He's not anybody we know. Well, ask him. It's leap year. Oh, here comes Colonel Bixby. He'll know. Wow, wow, wow. Beauty gathered round the booty, huh? Much more beauty than booty, though. Say, when are they going to hang the diamond on that drip? No, no. There's no way to talk about the blushing bride. Is that it in the crummy old case there? That case is heirloom, young lady. The stone that reposes in it is worth a king's ransom. Now, take your grubby hands elsewhere. Yeah, but you go on. Well, just because he's going to give the bride away thinks he can order everyone around. Mr. Spade, allow me to congratulate you, sir. These affairs, one all too often, sees the detective on guard duty at the punch ball. I was forewarned. Oh, yes, very bad champagne. Flat. I'd be glad when these ill-starred nuptials are consummated. And by the way, Bixby's my name. Colonel Asander Bixby. Colonel? It is my melancholy and thankless duty to give the bride away to the hapless groom, Ralph Rushlight. However, it's much better to give than to receive. You tell that to me, Rushlight. You're quite a trinket. Uh-uh-uh, mustn't touch. Grubby hands, remember? Oh, sense of humor as well as sense of duty. Candidly, if I knew a place to fence it, I'd be the... Oh, Miss Ward. How lovely you look. Poor Ralph. Mrs. Rushlight asked me to warn you to get ready. The bride will be down in a moment. Good grief. Well, I suppose I must steal myself. Where did I leave my glass? Keep your eye on that old goat, Mr. Spade. I don't trust him. Who is he? He's the only one here who knows why this wedding's happening. Is the bride's foster father. You mean he's got something on the family? You'll never know how much until you kiss the bride. Look, Nancy, it's none of my business, but I... Oh, God. Starving. I'll have to go in now. Oh, wait. What? How does it go, uh, speak now or forever hold you peace? No, I... I can't do that. Thank you for understanding. I didn't witness the ceremony, but judging from the mood of those who had, it was just as well I didn't. They shuffled back into the ballroom looking as if they'd witnessed an execution. Nobody seemed to be in a hurry to join the receiving line. After a few half-hearted handshakes, the groom left the bride standing alone, looking kind of bewildered, and came over to take inventory of the presents. Look at that junk. I'm Ralph Rushlight. Who are you? Spade. I was hired to guard this junk, as you call it. Sorry I'm wasting my time. The Rushlight time. It's bad luck. Look at what it did to me. What got her? Did you ever say anything? Give it to yourself. Why should I? Because I'm liable to slap you clear across this room. Haven't I been punished enough? Go on, go on, scram. Keep your hooks off that necklace. That's mine. I heard it's your wife. Come along, I heard you wrong. Come along over here. Oh, Mr. Spade, you haven't met the bride yet, have you? No, I... Thank you. I wish you a lot of luck, Mrs. Rushlight. You're going to need it. Thank you. Well, I suppose now, as well as any time, Colonel. Oh, very well, my dear. Quiet, please. Quiet, everyone. Mrs. Rushlight, the old, the elder Mrs. Rushlight that is, has something to say to you. Mr. Spade. Yes? The necklace. Will you please hand it to me? With pleasure. I'm tired of looking at it. Oh, you're not done yet. Stay close by my side. Dear friends, at this solemn moment, I want, first of all, to welcome this dear little girl into the Rushlight family. Thank you. Yes. And now, dear Lotta, I will place around your neck the gem which was my heritage when I became a Rushlight, and which is now yours. Thank you. I was wrong. Lotta, come back here. Lotta. I'm going to the car port and hit her off. You leave her alone. I'll take care of her. Whose wife is she anyhow? Lotta, come back here. Lotta, bring it back. I was almost ashamed to join in the chase, but I had to because I'd been hired to guard the Rushlight Diamond, and for my money, the best way to do that was to help her get away. Somebody got to her before I did. A strip of wedding gown satin marked the spot. The body lay crumpled under a hedge, but it wasn't the bride's body. It was the groom. He'd been stabbed to death with a pair of garden shears, which made sense. But what didn't make sense was that the necklace she'd been wearing was still clutched in his hand. The makers of Wild Root Cream Oil are presenting the weekly Sunday adventure of Dashel Hammett's famous private detective, Sam Spade. If you want the well-groomed look that helps you get ahead, socially and on the job, listen. Recently, thousands of people from coast to coast who bought Wild Root Cream Oil for the first time were asked, how does Wild Root Cream Oil compare with the hair tonic you previously used? Better than four out of five who replied said they preferred Wild Root Cream Oil. And no wonder. Wild Root Cream Oil grooms the hair neatly and naturally, relieves annoying dryness, and removes loose dandruff. What's more, non-alcoholic Wild Root Cream Oil is the only leading hair tonic that contains soothing lanolin. So ask for Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. By the way, smart girls use Wild Root Cream Oil too, and mothers say it's grand for training children's hair. And now back to the Rushlight Diamond Caper, tonight's adventure with Sam Spade. Number 21A Granite Court was teeming with motives and suspects. But the police were primarily interested in locating a lot of the missing bride and widow of Ralph Rushlight. So was I. She looked like less work than the rest of it because if she had killed him, it was self-defense if she knew enough English. By 10 in the AM, when I checked in at my office, she was still successfully eluding the police dragging her. That was because nobody, including me, had thought of looking in my office. Good morning. Thank you. Is that all the English you know? Thank you, no. I want my necklace. The police haven't. You go with me and tell them who I am. Okay, but first I have to know who you are, where you came from, what your connection with Colonel Bixby is. I am in Macassar being born. In Macassar? Dutch colony. My father, there's seven years ago dying is. When I 13 years old have arrived. I see. Colonel Bixby in San Francisco, the financial representative from my father was. I am adopted to him, not for a father, but so he takes care of my money, switch coming of age am I a rich Dutch woman. Uh-huh, but legally he's your foster father. Yeah, also legally I'm either wife of Rushlight. I want my necklace. You married him for the necklace? Yeah. Why did he marry you? For one half of necklace when we sell, but all everything to take he wishes. You and Ralph are going to divvy the take from the Rushlight diamond you thought. Yeah, yeah. And what was the Colonel going to get? Money for Mrs. Rushlight. Oh, no, wait, that doesn't make sense. Mrs. Rushlight stood the lows of small fortune by that marriage. Why should she pay the Colonel to promote it? You the detective are. You said that. Where my necklace are, that I say. Yeah, well, look, I'm not as sure as I was. Wait just a minute. I'll check on it. I'm aside, Lieutenant Dundee. I spade, Dundee. Hiya, Sam. What's new on the Rushlight caper? You know I can't talk about the case, Sam. Oh, I got a line on that girl. Oh, where is she? You know I can't talk about that, Dundee. Oh, you can't, can't you? Well, let's see if this doesn't change your mind. The necklace we found on Rushlight's body was a phony, a paste copy. Uh-huh. Does that make her guiltier than she was before? Well, now she's got a motive, throws all our previous theories into a cocked hat. Now, where's the girl? She's in my office, Lieutenant, dear. Come and get her. Thank you. Oh, it's you, Sam. Back again? Yeah, do you mind? Well, that depends on who you came to see. You, sweetheart. But, uh, first I'd like to talk to Mrs. Rushlight. Well, she can't see anyone. She's in a state of nervous collapse over the... Over Ralph's death. Oh, that's too bad. You, uh, seem to be holding up pretty well. Well, I'm relieved. He's better off dead than married to that... Yeah. Rushlight Diamond's still unlucky, you know. What do you mean by that? I was just trying it on for size. How does it fit? Yeah, but you and Mrs. Rushlight are about the same size. Her nerves getting any better? You're the doctor. If you want to see her, go ahead. She's up there. Thank you. Mrs. Rushlight, I'm sorry to break in on you like this, but I haven't got much time. Oh, get Nancy! Nancy! Try this, that girl. Mr. Spade, please, leave me alone with my grief. Funny thing, yesterday Nancy was carrying a torch for Ralph and you were holding the torch to him. Today it's different. Oh, good, Evans. You don't think I'm grief-stricken over Ralph? Good, that's one less mystery. Mr. Spade, what do you want? Your nephew's killer. Oh, does it matter? It does, to me. Somebody getting knocked off right under my nose is bad for private detectives everywhere. Oh, for a moment I thought that... See, wouldn't you rather make some more money? I refuse to marry Lara. Oh, no, nothing like that. It's the necklace, Mr. Spade, the genuine. What is? I don't know. All I know is the other one isn't. Who told you then? Well, why, the police know. It's in the papers, isn't it? Not yet. Well, how else would I learn? The murderer's the only one who could have told you unless you're the murderer. I see. Very well, Mr. Spade. I'll tell you what I know. I'm not as wealthy as you might think. In fact, I have, for four years, lived from pillar to post, from hand to mouth, rag tag and bob tail, struggling to make ends meet. Now, what you mean is you're eking out a meager existence, keeping ahead above water, one jump ahead of the sheriff, stalked by the grim specter of poverty. Is that right? Oh, well, you put it. In fact, Mr. Spade, I'm something of a crook. I've borrowed large sums of money from Colonel Bixby, putting up his collateral, something that was not mine to forfeit. Don't tell me. Let me guess. It was the rush light diamond? Well, you seem to know everything. All but one thing. Why did you think you could palm off a paste copy on an operator like Bixby? He sent you here. I won't tell you another single thing. Well, then I'll tell you a few things. The only way the rush light diamond could be transferred legally into the hands of Colonel Bixby was by tricking Ralph into marriage with Lotta, since Ralph's wife automatically became the legal owner. With Ralph dead, Bixby would be in line to inherit the diamond from her. Inherit? California state law. Forster parent may inherit from a foster child in absence of any direct heir. Well, why, then he planned. He'd kill her too. Mr. Spade, we must stop him. She's safe for the time being. I had her thrown into the pokey. They can hold her 48 hours for questioning, but they can hold you longer. They can even hold you as an accessory before the fact. Why? Why, I didn't know he was going to kill anyone. Lotta was just going to hand over a million buck diamond to Bixby out of the kindness of her heart? Oh, no. Lotta wanted to become an American citizen. Marriage is the quickest way. For her, Ralph was the only way. Okay, I'll buy that. Now, tell me honestly, Mrs. Rush Light, what happened to the genuine stone? I honestly didn't know. I wasn't sure. But now there can be only one answer. Lancy with the laughing face? She went with me when I went to the bank vault to get the Rush Light diamond to present to Lotta after the ceremony. She looked after all my jewels, including the paste copy that I habitually wore. I dreamt. I'm aside, Lieutenant Dundee. Spade again, Dundee. I think I got the Rush Light caper all wrapped up. I'm heading for your office now, so wait for me. And whatever you do, don't let that Lotta dame out of your sight. Thank you. Goodbye. Wait a minute, Sam. Wait a minute. Yeah? The Lotta dame, she's already gone. Escape? Veiled out, custody of her foster father. Wait a minute. I got the name here, Sam. Bixby. He's a colonel and no wonder you're only a lieutenant. Contraste fatigue? Not thirsty. Lancy? Lancy, where are you? Oh, here I am, Sam. I was waiting for you. You got the keys to that car out in front? Well, yes. Do you want to borrow it? Yes, with you in it. Why, Sam, where did I put my face on? Let it go. It's as good as lost anyway. Come on. What is this place? Where are you taking me? Never mind. Just hang on. I'll fly you up to the second floor. Sounded like Lotta. You stay here. Don't come in until I call you. Get back in there. Drop it. No. Drop it or I'll crack your elbow. That's better. Now, sit down. Now, look this over. Looks real cute. Powder burns, gun beside the chair, and what's this? Well, well, well, a note in Dutch. It's a suicide note. She killed herself. I can almost believe that. You've handled this very well, considering the bad breaks you've had. Only one thing wrong. Do I send to bargain? I don't have to bargain. I've got the diamond. All you've got is two murders wrapping on your thick noggin. Don't be absurd. I know who has the real necklace. Then you better talk to her directly. You can come in now. Sam, a homely little dame. What did she ever do? Stop. You're breaking my heart. She committed suicide. You know better than that. She committed suicide. If the colonel's price is right. Oh, I see. I'll put it to you directly. It's not easy to fence. It'll have to be cut. That'll decrease the value considerably. Say, $10,000, no questions asked. Pardon me. That's suicide shot. It's ringing in my ears. I can't hear you. Hey, 20,000. 50,000. All right, 100,000. Sam, don't be a fool. Take it. I'll give you a real break, colonel. That's the cops coming after you. Anything, spade. What do you want me to do? I want you to try and get out of here. What are you going to do? There's the door. Go ahead. All right. Thank you, colonel. Desperate. Mix me. We're giving you a chance. Come down or we're coming up after you. Come on. Come on. Get up, colonel. Here he comes. Come on. It may be a trick. Watch it, Dundee. Here he comes. In that, Mrs. Rushlight is the crop. For a man that went down fighting, colonel Bixby didn't need much persuading once they got him into the lights down at headquarters. He confessed to everything and the murders weren't the worst of it the way I figure. The worst of it was the cruel way he victimized the poor little ugly duckling, lot of Van Eyck. It's tough enough to be whipped before you start. Period. End of report. My goodness. That was moody, tristy. I mean, I'm beginning to see why Effie gets so repressed sometimes. Effie, depressed? That little doll told you that? Only between she and I in the lamppost. She's so sensitive, you know. Not like I, of course. I invariably cry at weddings. You don't say, Bernadine. You attend weddings often? With high frequency, Mr. Spade. You mean frequently? No, no. The last time it was FM. You know, frequency moderation? Oh, yes, yes, yes. Moderation and all things, I always say. You mean you attend radio weddings? Oh, yeah. I've been married six times. My next date is television. You've been married six times? Well, to each his own, Mr. Spade. You mean six men have... Oh, no. No, I only marry my husband. Repetition is the spice of variety, I always say. Is that legal? If it's not after six weddings, what isn't? To each his own, as you say. Well, we don't presume to make a career out of it. As soon as we get the mangler and the deep freeze, we're gone on our honeymoon. Well, congratulations, and, uh, type this up when you have the time. Mrs. Bernadine Hemp. Every day, more and more men are turning to wild root cream oil for truly handsome hair. And that's not surprising, for what other leading hair tonic gives you these big advantages. It grooms the hair neatly and naturally. Relieves dryness, removes loose dandruff. What's more, wild root cream oil is non-alcoholic and contains soothing lanolin. No wonder wild root cream oil is the favorite with so many millions of smart particular men. Get wild root cream oil. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. I'm sorry it took so long, but I kept relaxing into Spanish. Hi, Sanna. And at least typewriter doesn't have any upside down question marks. Upside down. Take a memo. Call typewriter man. I already have. Oh, um, I almost forgot. You received a telegram at commutation. A telegram, what? A wire. Oh, a wire. Well, open it and read it. In English, for fervor. Uh, it says, uh... Dear Sam. Figures. In the haste of my departure, I neglected to warn you about... Well, when I do that one another favor, she'll have silver threads. Who? That ball of fire whom I'm taking the place of in order to be double-crossed up by... Effie, is she still in far-off canab? And good rubbish if you'll pardon the expression. Oh, Bernadine, let me see that. I, uh, I neglected to warn you about Bernadine. I'm sending the tales airmail special, but in the meantime, whatever you do, don't go to any radio broadcast with her. And if she comes to work in a wedding gown, take the day off. Love, Effie. And I had two tickets for honeymoon payoff, and now she went and spoiled everything. Oh, now there, Bernadine. You just have to marry your husband again. That's all. I wouldn't have had the time, anyway. I know. It's just the principle. Good night, Mr. Spade. Good night. Buenos noches. Hasta la vista. Effie, why did you ever leave me? The Adventures of Sam Spade, Dashel Hammett's famous private detective, are produced and directed by William Spear. Sam Spade is played by Howard Duff. The Adventures of Sam Spade are written for radio by Bob Tolman and Gil Dowd, with musical direction by Lud Gluskin. Gil Dowd directed tonight's broadcast in William Spear's absence. Join us again next Sunday for another adventure with Sam Spade, brought to you by Wild Root Cream Oil. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. This is Dick Joy, reminding you to... Get Wild Root Cream Oil, Charlie. It keeps your hair in trim. You see, it's non-alcoholic, Charlie. It's made with sooth and lanolin. You better get Wild Root Cream Oil, Charlie. Start using it today. You'll find that you will have a tough time, Charlie. Keep on all the gals away. Hiya, Baldi. Get Wild Root right away. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.