 Signal gasoline. Let every traffic signal remind you, you do go farther with signal gasoline. Yes, you do go farther with signal. The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, X marks the murderer. 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. If it hadn't been for a simple housewife named Mamie Cast and her idea, the police might never have solved the case at all. And it was a case that they certainly wanted to solve and quickly. It was a long series of murders which baffled police and terrorized the city. Not only because of their fiendish quality, but because of their apparent lack of motive. I say apparent lack because you can't expect the police to find and recognize a motive deep in the mind of a man who simply enjoys killing. A man who rationalizes his feeling into a sort of righteous cause. So at the time Mamie Cast got her idea, the police were still baffled in getting nowhere. Mamie, reading about it, got her idea and told Ben, her husband, about it over their evening coffee. Think of it, all of them, all women, stabbed and left dying in the streets. And the police looking high and low and him or her nowhere to be found. You know, it must be a man. It couldn't be a woman to do a thing like that to her own kind. Don't you agree? Huh? Ben, ain't you listening to me? Sure, sure. What's got into you sitting there staring like that? I was just watching you reading about it. You get all worked up. Like it was you that was stabbed. Like any minute it happened to you. Well, it might be too. Who's to say he's not looking right around here? And when I go out some night, why? It might be someone in our own neighborhood. Might be. You know, the police think it's a working man. They do? Why? Well, because all the killings have been on weekends. When there ain't work to keep a body busy and out of trouble. They know so much. Why don't they catch him? They don't know. It's just a theory. Ah, they're just guessing. I know. Sort of, yes, but... Well, they'll double the police on weekends until they catch him. Maybe he's too smart to get caught. Newspapers offering a reward for $1,000. It says this paper will pay $1,000 to anyone who can offer a clue which will lead to the arrest and conviction of the monster who's terrorizing the city. Monster? Is that what they call... call him? What else would you call one who kills people like that? You know, we could use that $1,000, Ben. I want nothing to do with it. You wouldn't take $1,000 if all you had to do was to give the police an idea? I ain't got any idea. Well, I have. I've been working on it all day, and I'm going to send it to the police. You have? Yes. Where'd you get this idea? I ain't put any ideas in your head, am I? Where'd you get an idea? All you do is come home from work every morning and fall asleep. When you wake up, you sit in that chair all afternoon and evening until it's time to go to work again, just sitting there and brooding. No, I gave myself this idea. You wouldn't want to tell me, would you? No. Why should I? I'm your husband. It ain't right to keep things from your husband. You keep things from me. No, I don't. What things? You don't always tell me where you go. Can't a man take a walk now and then without having to get his wife say so? What's your idea? Well, here, look. See this map of the city? See them four crosses? Yeah, what are they? Each one marks the place where a killing occurred. Anybody can make a map like that. Well, wait a minute. Watch. When I connect those four points, it makes a square, almost. That ain't so wonderful. Now, my theory is that whoever's doing the killings lives some place inside that square. There's half a million people who lives there. But he never strikes twice in the same place. I've got the idea that he goes out in a different direction from where he lives, every time he wants to do away with somebody. What makes you think that? Well, it's just natural. Not to do something like that in front of his own house. He'd go far away in a different direction each time, so as not to have two happen in the same place, don't you see? And according to your figuring, where's he live? Somewhere in the middle of the square. Now, wait till I connect the opposite corners of the square. What's that for? He lives nearby where the lines cross. Oh, look. Come here. Let's see. Yeah, this one comes along 8th Street. And it crosses this one here. Ben, look! Why, they cross right here. Practically in our own block. There you see. Maybe it is someone we know. Maybe we see him every day. Oh, this is rotten. You ain't aiming to send this fool idea to the police. I am. Maybe it is rotten. Maybe it's worth a thousand dollars. Anyways, I'm going to try. Mamie, I'm warning you. Don't fool around with something that's none of your business. And why not? Got a feeling. You might regret it. Now it can be told. It's on everyone's lips these days, with all sorts of news breaking. For wartime security, American industry has had to maintain secrecy about many of its most amazing projects. For instance, Signal Oil Company, a new supplier of the new Tesla each week. We'd like to have been able to tell you about Signal's new super fuel as it was being developed. For during the last few years, petroleum chemists have found ways of completely changing the composition of gasoline, giving new performance un-dreamed of before the war. But the big news tonight is that soon these ingredients that have been helping us win the war will be in a new Signal gasoline. Yes, a new Signal Super Fuel, which will challenge you to step on the pedal and find the greatest thrill you've ever felt in driving. You'll soon find this new Signal Super Fuel at your friendly neighborhood station displaying Signal's yellow and black circle sign. Meantime, while you're waiting for the announcement, keep your car filled with Signal. Keep enjoying genuine Signal quality, which today, as for the past 14 years, means the finest in petroleum products and service that money can buy. And now, back to the Whistler. Yes, that was the beginning of the end of the atrocity murders that terrorized the city. Mamie Cast had an idea and in spite of her husband Ben's objection she sent it into the police. That was on a Tuesday and all day Wednesday she waited for somebody to call her. But of course they didn't and that night as a patrolman they ate three. Blast it. Now what's this? Hey there, there's no place to go to sleep. Come on, get up. Come on, I'll get up. I'll give you a hand. Come on up, you c... Something wrong here. Mother in heaven. Another one. It's happened again. What's your light on for? Turn it off. Turn that light off. I like the dark. Turn it off. All right, all right. Didn't you hear me? Don't you know your wife's been here all this time almost dying of fear? There's been a murder almost on our doorstep. Yeah, I know. You know? How? Police were talking about it as they came in. What's the water faucet running for? Washing my hands. Never knew you to do that before. I thought you washed up at the factory. Can't a man wash his hands when they need it? Brandy. Never acted like this before. It's right here on the sideboard. Yeah, you better have some. I will have a drop. Now what do you think of your fine theory? This time it didn't happen on a weekend. I wonder why. All the others did. You said he lived in this block, went far away in a different direction. Maybe you ain't so smart after all. You better stick to your dishes and housework and not dream about rewards. I'll dream if I want to. If I get another idea, I won't tell you about it. I'm going to bed. Will you be coming? Pretty soon. I'll be along as soon as I wash my hands. Now Mamie Cass, perhaps your idea wasn't so good. Or perhaps it was too good. At any rate, you've almost forgotten about it since the latest murder. Besides, the police rarely pay attention to such unsolicited theories as yours. Except in this case, they're getting desperate. I know, Commissioner. It's been over a week since the last killing. I've got every available man on duty. Shane? I know, but frankly, we haven't got a clue. There's no motive, no connection between killings. It's pretty battling. All we can hope is that somebody will come up with something. Now that the papers have increased the reward to $5,000, good-byes. Sergeant Smith. Yes, Captain? Anything in those letters? All there the usual. Six people write confessions. As many more will say who's guilty if we'll pay the reward first. And every other convict in prison offers to catch the murderer if we'll set him free. By the time you read them, you'd swear there are more screwballs. Now think carefully. Was there any one letter which you gave a second thought? Say one that you even started to show me, but then decided it wasn't worthwhile. Well, out of the whole pile, there's only one letter that made even an impression. Yes. A woman by the name of Mrs. Kast wrote that if the four points at which a murder occurred were connected, well, they formed a square and that the guilty man probably lived someplace inside that area. Everybody, including the police, noted that. It was suggested to the newspapers. Well, she narrowed it down to the place where two diagonals of the square intersected. X marks the spot. We arrest the man who lives at the point of the murder. Well, here's what makes me remember the letter. It was dated the 23rd and the next murder took place the next night within a hundred feet of the point where the lines intersected. Yes, it's a coincidence. They have the date on my desk and I'll make a check when I can find the time. Now, Mamie, perhaps your theory will get a try, but only when Captain Shane gets around to it. And in the meantime, the change of attitude is coming over you. Yes, there's a new and strange thought coming into your mind and tonight it begins to take real shape. When Ben went to work tonight, he forgot his lunchbox, so you follow him to the factory to deliver it. After all, he'll get pretty hungry before morning. Are you the timekeeper? Yes, ma'am. What can I do for you? My husband went off and forgot his lunch and I'm bringing it to him. Oh, what's his name? Cast. He's in the grinding shed. Cast? Ben, yeah. He didn't punch in tonight. You mean he ain't here? That's it. He's not working tonight. But he always goes to work. Maybe he's got a date with a blonde. He, uh, ain't stayed away before, has he? Now, wait and I'll check. Ain't supposed to, but seeing you're his wife, I guess it's okay. No, he's pretty regular. Missed only once before this month. When was that? Last week. Wednesday, it was. Last Wednesday. No! Not Wednesday. Well, here's the card. Clock doesn't lie. Hey, what's the matter? You look pale. You ain't gonna faint. Wednesday! What is it you're thinking, Mamie? Wednesday, last Wednesday, Ben didn't come to work. Last Wednesday, when a woman was killed just outside your door, and Ben came in and washed his hands. When you get home, he's not there yet. You wait and wait and finally... Yes. There's, uh, been another? Don't pass to me with questions. I'm too tired. I won't, Ben. Oh, I left the brandy on the table for you. Yes, Mamie. Now you're beginning to understand. And now you know your plan was too good. Too good. But what about you, Ben? What are you thinking? Were you in too much of a daze to hear what Mamie was saying to you? Don't you see those looks she gives you the next day, looks of fascinated horror? You don't even notice that she's frightened. It doesn't penetrate that she knows anything. That is, not till you go to work the next night. Yeah, sure. Hello, Ben. Oh. Well, I see you brought your lunch tonight. What do you mean? I could eat, don't I? Well, you forgot it last night. Your wife brought it down. My wife was here last night? Yeah. Brought my lunch basket? She knows I wasn't to work? That's right. She seemed a little upset about it. Hey, where are you going? I'm going to straighten things out before it's too late. I'm going home. Yes, Ben, now you know. Now the danger signals penetrate through your numb consciousness. And you're going home to Mamie fast. Only as you climb the stairs you realize someone is there before you. There are voices at your door. You shrink back in the shadows of the hall. There won't be much help. Thanks for sending it in anyway. Good night. Captain, I won't think anything now. I'll wait until we check with her husband. She seemed frightened, almost in a daze. I just can't blame her. There's the murder nearby and then the police calling on her. Home. What those men want? Well, they just came to ask about the letter. It doesn't mean a thing. Check up on all letters like that. You were right, Ben. The idea wasn't any good. They ask about me? Yes, but just what they call routine questions. What you did, where you worked, and how long we'd been married, you know, things like that. You told them? Oh, yes, I had to. Did you tell them I didn't go to work last Wednesday? No, I didn't tell them that. You know. Don't you, Mamie? No. You don't have to tell me where you were. I'm not asking you anything, Ben. How'd you know the other night when you asked me if there'd been another one? It was in the newspaper. It wasn't in the papers when you asked me. Then it wasn't in the papers when you told me. It's, it's you. You, you're the monster. No, don't call me that. No, no. I'm not. Monster. That's what you are. You, a woman who'd sell her husband for a thousand dollars. I never said a word. You. Ben, please, put down that knife. You. I swear I'll never say a word. I'll never tell a soul. You've set the police on my trail. No. They go to the factory and find I wasn't at work. And they'll be like a pack of hound sniffing and baying at me and let me have no peace. I could save you, Ben. I know I'm only a woman, but I can throw them off the scent. How can you? It don't prove anything. You're not being at work. And when they come back to check, I'll tell them you were with me every minute of the time. Don't you see, Ben? You need me. I need you. Yes. More now than you ever did. You need someone who can swear to where you were those nights you weren't at the factory. I'm the only one who can do that. The only one who will do it. That's right. I'll have to tell them I was someplace. But you'll have to have someone to back you up. You're not going to turn me in? No. You can put that knife down now, Ben. I won't ever tell. I'm your alibi now. Without me you haven't a chance. I'm your alibi. Ben, be careful. Mamie is your alibi, your only alibi. So be careful of her. Very careful. Stay at home. Watch her closely. Ben, can't you stop pacing up and down? That's all you've done for three nights now. That and sit brooding in the armchair. She's getting foggy. Heavy black fog. Can't see the street light. Ain't it about time you started for work? Ben. What did you say? I said, ain't it about time you started for the factory? I won't be going to the factory tonight. Not going to? What's come over you? You'll call the factory and tell them I'm not coming in tonight. Don't. Don't make me do that. You'll do as I say. All right, all right. But don't go out. Not again. Not another one. What difference does it make? Oh no. Rotten world anyway. Oh no. Get better off out of it. We'd all be. But Ben. Call the factory. Tell them I won't be there. I'll be back in the morning. No, Ben, come back. Don't go. Ben. Rock again. For the last time. You didn't know that, Ben, but it was for the last time. Yes, it might not have been if it hadn't been for Mamie's idea and her letter to the police. And the train of thought it started in the mind of Captain Shane of the homicide squad. You think we've got enough to make an arrest, Captain? Not yet. We've got nothing new. But I hope to after I've questioned him. Everyone knows what to do. Oh, yes, sir. We've even rehearsed like actors. Good. And bring him in. Sit down, Mr. Cass. Why am I here? My wife's waiting for me at home. She'll be frightened. I just stepped out for a few minutes. You were told you'd be right back? Yeah. Then, of course, you will be worried. I'll be as brief as possible and you can go to her. Mr. Cass, we want you to help us. Me? Help the police? Well, these killings have us baffled. We thought you might be able to help us out. How? Your wife sent us a map. It was her theory that the guilty one lived near the point where the two lines crossed. Well, I remember it. I told her there was no use bothering the police with it. You didn't think it's strange when the next murder took place within 100 feet from that point? Oh, queer things happen. Right after she pointed out to you that four murders that occurred on weekends, the next one took place on Wednesday. That was the first night you had missed going to work in six years. I didn't feel well. I stayed home. A week later, on a Thursday, was another murder. That was the second time in six years that you didn't go to work. I don't remember. I did stay home again. It might have been that night. Your wife knew, of course, that you were staying home. Of course. She always knows when I stay home. Then why did she take your lunch box to the factory that night? She... she brought my lunch? Yeah. Oh, yeah. Yeah, I remember when I got to the factory, I found I'd come off without my lunch, so I went back after it. When I got home, it wasn't there, and I knew my wife had taken it to the factory. I waited for her to come home, but she took so long I didn't bother to go to work. I... I stayed home. Tonight, about an hour ago, a woman was killed. And tonight, you weren't at work, Mr. Cast. Where were you an hour ago? I was home. I was just leaving on an errand when your men come up and ask me to come down here. Oh, my man must have thought you were coming home, not leaving. That's a very serious mistake on your part, Sergeant Schmidt. You must be more careful about such things. I'm awfully sorry, sir, except my apologies, Mr. Cast. Now, Mr. Cast, we're not questioning your word, but I'm sure you'll agree that you'll be in a better position if you could prove just where you were. By that, I mean... have some witness who could swear that he saw you. You mean an alibi? Yes, yes, that's right. My wife will prove everything I say is true. And where will we find your wife? We're at home, of course, where I left her. I'm afraid not, Mr. Cast. We tried that, and she wasn't there. Not there? In fact, I think I can safely say that your wife will never prove what you say. Your alibi is worthless, Mr. Cast. The whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending to tonight's story. Meantime, where are you going? I mean, with that unlimited supply of goods I mean, with that unlimited supply of gasoline you can enjoy from now on. Yes, of course, you're going to make up for lost driving and really go places. But unfortunately, for a while at least, it's going to have to be on those tired old tires that have been recapped and repaired again and again. Now, to avoid marring your driving fund with that familiar roadside disease in which one side of a tire gets very, very flat, here is a surefire prescription. Tell your neighborhood signal gasoline dealer you'd like for him to keep an eye on your tires to catch little cuts and injuries before they grow big and let you down before you can buy a new tire. You'll find your signal dealer is completely equipped to give you the finest in modern tire repair, whether it's a small patch or a full recap. For those friendly dealers displaying signals yellow and black circle sign are much more than just a place to get signal to go farther gasoline and find signal lubrication. Each signal dealer has a complete line of automotive services and fine accessories to keep your car running better, looking better and lasting longer. And now, back to the whistler. Now, Penn, you've come to the end of the road. Captain Shane says your alibi is worthless. You can't understand it because you were so sure that Mamie would stand by you. But you're trying to get it through your dull consciousness as the captain explains it to you. You see, Mr. Cast, when I talked to your wife I was struck by the fact that she was so frightened. Much too frightened. When I checked up on you and found out about your absence from work I began to understand why. She was afraid of him. Me? But Mamie was... I came back again to check with her. You came back? While you were at work. She swore you had been at home with her. But she was even more frightened. Then I knew that she not only feared you but loved you enough to protect you. And I knew that unless she broke down and helped us we'd never be able to prove that you... you were the guilty man. Me? I don't know what you mean. I think you do, Mr. Cast. And I think now that we can prove it what have you done to Mamie? Where is she? Right outside, Mr. Cast. Sergeant, bring in Mrs. Cast. Yes, sir. Put the body down. Which my wife is doing on that stretcher? She's dead. What have you done to her? We didn't do anything to her, Mr. Cast. Tonight she ran out after you probably to try to stop you and walk right into your trap. It was your wife you killed tonight, Mr. Cast. Next Monday at 9 o'clock the Whistler will bring you another strange tale. The Whistler is broadcast for your entertainment by the marketers of signal, gasoline and motor oil and fine quality automotive accessories and by your neighborhood signal dealer. This program directed by George W. Allen with tonight's story by Joseph Cochran music by Wilbur Hatch is transmitted to our troops overseas on Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking and suggesting that you let every traffic signal remind you that you do go farther with signal, gasoline. Yes, you do go farther with signal. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.