 Here's your invitation to another Maestro Braw mystery drama, presented by the Whistler. I'm 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've stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors, which they dare not speak. Maestro Braw beer, the Master Brews, served more often in Midwest homes than any other beer. Here's your another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, brief pause for murder. Roger couldn't recall the exact moment when it ceased to be a thrill to beam brightly at a microphone in a known... This is Roger Wixen bidding you good night. He was sure, though, that the glamour and magic of radio had gone out of his life the moment he married Tisha. Yes, and she'd taken a lot of other things out of his life, too. Things like pride and confidence and self-respect. Roger couldn't recall, either, the precise instant he decided to kill Tisha. When the helpless, frustrated hate for her blotted out any pangs of conscience, left him frankly admitting to himself that all he wanted were the moment and the means. Of course, there was no plan in his mind on the light of the dance of the country clown. No plan, just a decision. He'd come home first after leaving her there with Trent Crandall and had sat alone in the living room patiently waiting for her. It was after two when the door opened and she called back to Trent. Good night, Trent, darling. Thanks for the buggy ride. Roger, you waited up for me. How sweet of him. Not at all. Just catching up on my reading here. Oh, reading Trent's new book. He'd be so flattered, darling. Had to fall back on something simple. Started on the rover, boys, but I got stuck on the big words. That's why you waited up, isn't it? You thought of a clever remark all by yourself and you wanted me to hear it. I only wanted to tell you, Tisha, that I think you're being very stupid. You mean about Trent? It makes no difference to me if you want to play footy with the town's most distinguished visitor. But our fellow citizens have a way of talking, you know. If you're implying with Trent... I'm not implying anything. Well, why don't you join us some evening? Play chaperone. Trent Crandall is a celebrity, Tisha, and whatever he does is news. If it got back to his wife, she might possibly misinterpret. She just might assume there was more to your association with Trent than the healthy interest in his books. There is? I love him. And it doesn't concern Mrs. Crandall. The moment she's on her way to Reno. I see. And of course it doesn't concern me either. Shouldn't? When the divorce is granted, I'll be leaving you naturally. Oh, there it is again. What? Facial expression number 2A, the inscrutable smile. You were wearing it at the club tonight. Rather expected to see the other one. Patient suffering, I believe it is. Good night, Tisha. You're glad I'm leaving you, aren't you? That's why you smiled. Maybe. Of course you'll have to get along without my money. I said good night, Tisha. Just good night? No recrimination? You know, I couldn't sleep a week if I thought you were brooding over something. Why, of course not. You were brilliant tonight, Tisha. I enjoy being smeared at in front of a room full of people. And it was an inspiration, you calling Mr. Gladney the man I work for, the program director of a peanut whistle. He's an incompetent offensive stuff shirt. Why shouldn't I tell him so? Very well, Tisha. Is that all? That's all. All right, darling. This is Mrs. Roger Wixen bidding you good night. So Tisha leaves and you sit alone in the living room thinking. You've discovered a very important thing, haven't you, Roger? The reason you've given yourself a wanting to kill her is gone. She's going to leave you of her own accord and marry Trent Cranbrough. But it doesn't seem to make any difference, does it? Nothing matters, not even her money. You're going to kill her because you hate her. That's all the reason you need. But how, Roger? How? The next morning shortly after you arrive at the station, you run into another announcer in the corridor. Hi, Roger. Well, Jerry. How was the thing at the club? All right. Hated to miss it? That's funny. I thought I saw you there. Probably heard me. I had the remote last night, banned from the Cedars. Yeah, that's right. I heard you. We tuned in over at the club. Very simple. On the air from the Cedars, can't be at the club. At the club, can't be on the air from the Cedars. Conclusion, Jerry wasn't there. Get it? Yeah. Yeah, Jerry. I get it. See what a hard life we radio announcers leave? Well, it can't be helped. The show must go on and all that sort of thing, you know. But honestly, radio announcing is a lot of fun. Especially if you have a much talked about product like Meisterbrow beer to discuss. You see, the nice things we say about Meisterbrow beer are just the same things that folks are saying every day about this famous master brew. For instance, when we tell you that Meisterbrow beer is better four ways, better taste, better head, better body, and as a result, better value. Well, that's exactly what Meisterbrow drinkers said about their favorite beer when they were interviewed recently by an independent research organization. Yes, Meisterbrow, the beer that's better four ways, always. So friends, remember golden good Meisterbrow beer next time you're thirsty. You'll find the pleasure is all yours when yours is Meisterbrow beer. Now, back to the whistling. Well, Roger, it doesn't matter that Pissier plans to leave you, does it? The decision to kill her has been part of you for so long that nothing she does will ever change it. So you don't think of the why of it anymore, just the how, and part of the how took shape in your mind when Jerry Edwards explained that it was impossible for him to be both on the air from the seathers and at the country club at the same time. Something to think about, isn't it, Roger? And that evening, as you're doing your news broadcast, you find something else to think about. Halfway through the show, someone hands you a late version. That would go a long way. Here's a late bulletin. Police in this city went on 24-hour duty tonight, launching an all-out effort to capture the so-called hip cord strangler who claimed his third victim last night. The crime followed the grimly familiar pattern. Mrs. Dorothea Eckler was found dead in her apartment early this morning. Medical reports indicate death had been caused by strangulation with a cord or a thong. As in other cases, the apartment had been looted. Police warned residents to take action reports. You hope your listeners will attribute that catch in your voice to revulsion at the horrible crimes. But it's something quite different, isn't it, Dorothea? Another part of the howl. You've decided now that tissue will die in a way that will point to the hip cord stranglers, the only suspect, at the very moment you're broadcasting from the studio. You'll have to be a recording, of course. So there's another big problem. How can you get one of the station engineers to play a recording in your voice at the right time and to keep a smart shot no matter what happens? Because a recording must always be announced as a recording. That stops you, doesn't it, Roger? For three more days it stops you. Then fate steps in again. Mr. Gladney, the program director, called you into his office to meet a new employee. What's it to meet a new engineer, Wixen? Vern Stevens. Hello there. Be working with you on the night shift? I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I? I don't think so. Your name is Stevens? Yeah. Stevens. Well, I've got to run along. Explain the setup to Stevens, will you, Wixen? You bet, Mr. Gladney. You know, I'd swear I've seen you somewhere before. Must have been a couple of other guys. Uh, haven't you got a station break coming up? Yeah. Yeah. Let's do it. As you give the station's call letters in the time signal, you watch the new engineer through the glass of the control room. Try to imagine what he'd look like without the mustache with a face a little less drawn. Then something clicks. You do know him. Six years ago at another small radio station in the Midwest. You cut off your mic and a smooth voice at the network announcer booms from the loudspeaker over your head introducing a program of dinner music. When you re-enter the control room, Stevens is showing elaborate interest in the dials and the instrument panel before him. Say, Stevens. Yeah? I'm sure we've met before. I don't know. There are lots of faces like mine. Not exactly like it. Huh? You just might be a guy I used to know at WSLR. I tell you you're wrong. You let it go at that. They cut that speaker, will you? I can't hear myself thinking. That's better. Look, Wixen, I'm new here. I don't want to be rude, but I've got to study this panel later. You're sorry, Stevens. I didn't mean to bother you, but you're just like a guy I used to work with at WSLR six years ago. Only his name was Spore. Burn Spore. My name's up there on my license. Take a look. Mm-hmm. Burn Stevens? Burn Spore. You and this guy could have been brothers. Well, okay. I guess I'll write to the boys back at WSLR and ask if they know a thing. Okay, Wixen. You win. I don't want to talk to you. Sure. Let me turn this thing off. You always were a pretty good guy. How about forgetting you ever knew me? Oh, I don't see why not. It's your business. You probably heard about that gym I got into right after I left WSLR. What happened? I didn't seem like anything at the time. Some smart operators were rounding up some radio equipment, transmitter parts and stuff, and selling to the stations below the border. I slipped them some old beat-up junk from the station where I was working. Got caught. That was tough. A year in the clink. Had to change my name when I got out. Oh, what about the license? A friend fixed it up. Actually... You? You won't say anything? Why should I? Thanks, Wixen. Gosh, when you walked in here tonight, I'd like to die. If Gladney ever found out about my record. Listen, Wixen, if there's anything I can do... Sure, Vern, don't worry. I'll call on you. So that's all there is to the how, isn't it, Roger? Stevens is your man, and he'll play ball anytime you ask him. All that remains is when... you can name your time. At least that's what you think until late that evening when you arrive home to find Tisha talking on the phone to Trent Crandall. Well, of course, Trent, darling. Anytime you say. Where? Go out to tomorrow. Oh, that doesn't give me much time to get ready. Roger? Oh, don't worry about him. After all, darling, what does he to say about it? Well, why should I talk it over with him? If I want to go to Hollywood with you, that's all there is to it. Well, I think you're being a little unreasonable, dear. All right. If you say so, I'll talk to him. Yes, yes, I'll call you back. Good night, darling. Good evening, Tisha. When did you come in? Just now. How is the dear boy? Trent? Naturally. Quite well, thanks. Are you concerned about Trent? I seem to have good reason to be concerned about him. I'm going to Hollywood with him, if that's what you mean. Do you want to make something of it? Yes, I do. I think you might have consulted me. Suppose I told you you have nothing to say. You intend to commit bigamy? What do you mean? I'm assuming you mean to marry him. After his divorce is final, of course. What about your own divorce? I'll take care of that, don't worry. Did you ever stop to consider your grounds? You might have something to learn about divorces. You see, I happen to be the injured party, and there isn't a court in the country that would award you a divorce if I chose to contest it. Well, I might have been a little rash at that. You see, I assumed you had pride. You've left me very little, but you're right. I do have some pride. Tisha, you're not going to Hollywood with Trent. Wait a minute, Roger. You wait a minute. You're going to stay here with me for the next week after he leaves. Then we're going to leave town for our vacation together. And you can go on to Hollywood. I'll return along. And supposing I don't agree with you. You can remain Mrs. Roger Wixen. It's all right with me. Do you want to call Trent back? Very well, Roger. I'll call him. Yes, Roger. It's important that Tisha stay with you for the moment at least until the when is settled, of course. And the week should give you enough time, shouldn't it? The answer to the when comes unexpectedly the next evening when the tenant Krasner of the police department comes into the station to ask a favor. Come on if I interrupt you for a minute, Mr. Wixen. Oh! Oh, tenant? Not at all. Thanks. I've just been talking to Mr. Gladney. He suggested I see you about some announcements on the police benefit next week. Thought maybe you'd do them for us. Sure. Be glad to. When do you want to start? Tonight if you can. Let's see. I'll get them right here. Oh, tonight? That's pretty short notice. The schedule's pretty full. Here they are. Yeah, I know it's on your curb, but as you've probably seen by the papers, we've been a little busy these days. Oh. You mean the strangler? Yeah. He's been pretty rough. Pretty rough guy. Yeah. Your wife home alone while you're working here? Yes. Tell her to keep the windows locked. That's the way the guy gets in. Oh, no challenge. Nobody knows where your strike next. And it doesn't pay to take chances. Got any leads? I feel like I got a hunch or two. I think we'll get them. I hope so. Yeah. What about the notes? Well, now let me check the schedule. Here we are. First time we can give you is the station break at 10. Is that soon enough? I guess it'll have to be. Can you do it yourself? Yes. It'll be on my shift. Thanks a lot, Wixen. I'll tell the boys at the station. We'll be listening. And that does it, Roger. The when is complete to. Police Lieutenant Krasner is going to hear you read that announcement tomorrow night at 10 o'clock, along with his friends down at headquarters, and who could ask for a better out of buy than that? When you and Vern Stevens are alone at the station, you walk easily into the control room. He's turned off the annoying loudspeaker, as usual, when the boss isn't around, and grances occasionally at the dancing needle on the volume indicator to assure himself that the network program is going out to the listeners. I saw the nine o'clock news, Vern. Okay, why? Can you keep something under your hat? It's driving. I'd hate to have the old man find out, but I've got a chance to go to Hollywood. Yeah? A friend of mine with an agency out there thinks he could use me. I'll make more dough on one broadcast, and I'll get no weaker out here. Gee, that's great. Going big time, huh? It's not definite yet. That's why I don't want anybody around here to know. You're the only one I've told. But I just got aware from the guy, and he'll be going through on a special tomorrow night. And if I didn't have to work, I could talk to him for about 20 minutes while the train is stopped. And I'm gonna work. Well, why not trade shifts tomorrow night with one of the other guys? Well, I'd have to say why, and I don't want anyone else to know about it. Well, won't the guy come up from the depot? You don't ask guys like that to come up from depots. Nope. I guess I'm sunk. Can't be in two places at once. Yeah. It's pretty important you meet this guy, isn't it? But my dean, I could get out of this dump. Oh, forget it. There's no use. Hey, wait a minute. What time does the special get in? 9.55. I see it. 9.45. We've got a band on the net from Hollywood. At 10, we take Murder Manor from New York. Yes, but there's a station break at 10, and that police announced Mutton Time Signal. And I'm sunk, because I've got to be in front of a mic for 30 seconds. What are you talking about? Let's record it. Sure, we can do it tonight, right here in the studio. Give the call letters, the time signal, and your announcement. I'll play the record for you tomorrow night at 10. That means you can leave here at 9.45, and won't have to be back until the 10.30 break. Gives you 45 minutes. What do you think it'd work? Why not? Well, suppose Gladney finds out I left the station. I'll get canned. How's he going to find out? We'll be alone here, and after I play the record, I'll destroy it. Burn? Did anybody ever tell you you were the genius? There's your mic. You all set? Yep. Got your copy? Yeah, right here. Okay, we're ready. I'll kill you from the boat. Right. This is WTUX, the voice of the wheat belt. It's 20 seconds before 10 p.m. Friends, here's a chance for you to show your appreciation. Got it. Hold it. What's the matter? Just got an idea. I started over and purposely make a mistake and then corrected. Mistake? Why? Sebel. If you give the time wrong and then correct yourself, it'll sound more never like you're actually in the studio. Nobody'd ever dream of it as a record. Okay, let's try it. Watch me for the cue. This is WTUX, the voice of the wheat belt. 20 seconds before 9 p.m. Correction, 10 p.m. Friends, here's a chance for you to show your appreciation for the man who protects your homes and loved ones 24 hours a day here in Europe. So it's done, Roger. The record is made, ready to go. And you know you can count on Bernd Stevens to come through for you. The next day is the big one, but you manage to go through your normal routine at home during the morning and early afternoon. As usual, you don't say much to Tiff here. Only enough to discover that since Trent Crandall is left for Hollywood, he'll be home all evening, alone. At 9.30 that night, you call Lieutenant Krasner at the police station. Just thought I'd remind you, Lieutenant, your announcement goes on in half an hour. Yeah. Yeah, I think it'll do the job. At 9.45, you give the station-call letters and start out of the studio. Okay, Bernd, I'll see you before 10.30. Right. And don't forget to bust that record if you don't... Don't worry about that. I'll carry the secrets of my grave. You're careful to take the back streets home, keeping well within the speed limit. There's only one person in the world who'll know you're going to be in two places at the same time tonight, and you know Bernd Stevens won't talk no matter what he suspects. It wouldn't be healthy for a man with a prison record to expose himself to suspicion as a possible accomplice. 10 minutes later, you've left your car in an alley and walked up to the back door of your apartment. You're reaching your side pocket. Yes, the leather thong is there, ready to go. Oh, it's you. Hello, Tisha. What are you doing home so early? You scared me to death. Just thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing. I've often wondered if you missed me, Tisha, during these long, lonely evenings. Answer my question, Roger. Why aren't you at the station? What's wrong? Nothing's wrong. I just got tired, so I came home. What are you talking about? Tisha, I'm tired of station breaks. I'm tired of this dumpy little town. What's the matter with you, Roger? Why are you looking at me that way? I'm tired of you, Tisha. I'm tired of the fuss you've made out of this marriage if you can call it a marriage. Roger? Roger, you don't know what you're... Oh, how do you put it in, Roger? It wasn't really a marriage. It was a tisha. It was only a means for you, a way you could ease that frustrated black heart of yours when Trent Crandall married somebody else right under your nose. Roger. Roger, what are you... Yes, Tisha. I'm tired of humiliations. Please don't leave me. I've been used for a doormat. Get away! Praying clown for that clown of stupid circumstances. You didn't think of that, did you, Tisha? You never entered your head, did it? Too late now, though? Just a moment, the whistler will return with a strange ending to tonight's story. But suppose we turn for a moment from this horrible scene in Roger and the late Tisha's living room to the thousands of happy living rooms around this country tonight. If we were able to look into some of these homes, perhaps your own, we'd find any number of people enjoying the refreshing goodness of gold and maisterbrow beer right now. You see, more maisterbrow is served in Midwest homes than any other beer. That means a lot of homes and happy, refreshed individuals in them. Now, in case you haven't enjoyed sparkling maisterbrow beer at your house for quite a little while, why not lay in a supply of this famous master brew, the beer that's better four ways. With gold and good maisterbrow beer in the house, you're always set for that evening of refreshing entertainment, either for yourself or for those friends who drop in unexpectedly. Yes, you'll find that the pleasure is all yours when yours is maisterbrow beer. Well, Roger, it's done now, isn't it? Tisha is dead, and you're free with over a half hour to get back to the station. You leave her there in the flooring, put on a pair of gloves, and move quickly back to the apartment. Jumping the contents of drawers all over the room, then into the bedroom. Are you open a window? Yes, Roger, it must look like a typical whip-cord strangled crime with robbery, the obvious motive. The lucky Tisha had the radio playing. It covers the noise you might make. Then suddenly music stops. You stop dead in your tracks as you hear the announcer give the interrupt cue. We interrupt this program, bring you a flash from the local police department. Chief of police there has announced that a suspect arrested this afternoon has confessed to the whip-cord stranglings of three women in this city during the past month. Very half the loot stolen from the victims has been recovered. With this dangerous criminal now in custody, citizens, hello. The frantic gasp you turn the radio down. This is something you hadn't counted on, Roger. One of your alibis is gone. The whole guy is in custody. You stay at the littered room, wondering if you have time to restore the place to order. No, no time for that. The other alibi. No one you'll have to depend on now. Rush back to the radio. It's just 10 o'clock. The bird in stealing hasn't bungled. You've still got a chance. Your hand is shaking so violently you can hardly turn the dial to the station's frequency. Then... Seconds before 9 p.m. Correction, 10 p.m. Friends, here is a chance for you to show your appreciation for the men who protect your homes and loved ones 24 hours a day. The station for the police officers are hearing it. Doesn't matter how she died or who did it, the fact remains, a man can't be at two places at the same time. Can't be at two places at the same time. Or if they gallop by. You're the brave man who lived in your service and died for your protection. Here are some marks with music conducted by Hunter Kaler. Tonight's story start, Fay Flynn as Roger, Beverly Younger as Tisha, Ken Griffin as Stevens. All characters portrayed in tonight's episode are imaginary, and any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. If you would like to be in the studio audience, address your request for free tickets to radio station WBBM, Wrigley Building, Department A, Chicago 11, Illinois. Today the latest thrilling whistler movie, The Mysterious Intruder starring Richard Dix, is now showing at the LaSalle Theater, Madison at Clark. Be sure to see it. Remember, Meisterbrough means the master bride. This is the WBBM-era Theater, Wrigley Building, Chicago.