 Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road and those who travel it wind up in the gut of the prison of the grave. This time each carrier torch and each was burned by it. They heal the hero worshipper in the hot-bitten blonde and all because of a woman already two days dead. From the pen of Raymond Trantler, outstanding author of crime fiction comes his most famous character in The Adventures of Philip Marlowe. In just a moment tonight's story, but first a message from the Ford dealers of America. Tonight more than 110,000 enthusiastic motorists own new 1950 Ford's. Here's what Donald L. Gibson, a pilot from Kansas City says about his 54. As a pilot I'm naturally interested in engines and that's why I bought a 54. That V8 really ticks along and ticks is just the right word because it's smooth and quiet as the Swiss move in the good watch and it's not just the Ford engine that's fine. The ride is just like flying in smooth air and the car handles like a dream. Anyone who's thinking of buying a new car should certainly take a check ride in the 54. We Ford dealers are swamped with comments like that. But don't take anyone's word for this new 54. Prove it for yourself. Look up your nearest Ford dealer in the classified phone directory or perhaps you know him personally. He'll arrange a test drive in the 54. Test drive it for comfort, for power, for safety and for the quietness, which is its mark of quality. Yes, before you buy any car at any price. Test drive the 54 at your Ford dealers tomorrow. Now with Gerald Moore starred as Philip Marlowe, we bring you tonight's exciting story, the torch carriers. The eight hours that had just slipped away had been a noisy assortment of big people with little troubles I hadn't wanted to help and little people with big troubles. I hadn't been able to help. So by the time it was all over and I was heading for home a cozy quiet cocktail seemed like a good idea. One down and one to go and ease up. But even as I relaxed the tension between the couple sitting at my left became more and more apparent. I looked down the bar, the girl was young, pretty and obviously afraid of the little man with her. What only asthma where a voice should have been. Now, have I made myself clear? I don't know what you're talking about. I look sister Larry, so it doesn't go for people snooping after a night. I need to do I. It gives me work to do that sometimes rough on a party. Great boy. All right, little man, you've had your busy day. Hey, take your hands off me. As soon as you relax. Okay, okay, get your mitts on our gentlemen, please, no fighting. I can lose my license for it. Now you leave at once. Wait a minute, Baldi. You heard him, Buster. Okay. I said what I come to say on you. Walter, Walter, stop playing. You all right, Miss? Yes, yes, thank you. Are you sure? Would you like another drink? No, no thanks. I think I'll go back to my villa. Oh, you're staying here at the Wilshire Gardens? Yes, villa 12. It's just around the corner. Maybe I better see you as far as the door. A little pal of yours might still be around. Well, thank you. It's all right. Come on. This is really very nice of you, Mr. Marlowe, Philip Marlowe. What about you? What? Clare Ospring. Well, now look, Clare, I'm not trying to pry to your business, but in a way, people like Larry Solver are my business. Larry Sol- How did you know about him? Your little pal on the bar wasn't whispering. I'm a private detective, Clare, and I see a lot of people get in over their heads. I hate to see it happen to you. You know, these people play rough, usually for keeps. Maybe you better tell me about it, huh? Well, this is my place. Oh. Mr. Marlowe, I'll be frank with you. A month ago I got into a jam. It was an investment. I'd made some stock. A sure thing I was told. And they usually are. Anyhow, the certificates weren't quite guilt edged, and they took a dive, a deep one. And to protect myself, I needed more money, so I took a bracelet. I had a diamond one and got a loan on it. From Larry Solver? Yes, from Solver. A friend, a person I thought was a friend, recommended him to me. So you cast your bracelet, covered your investment, got your money back, and now you want the bracelet again, correct? Yes, but Solver isn't around. He's hiding. How do you know? Well, I went to the club. He runs up on a strip. I overheard it there. Two men spoke of him as being on an extended vacation for his health. Of course, I didn't believe that, so I went around the back, found a door open, and got into Salter's private office. Maybe that in itself is a wonderful way to get into trouble deep. Yes, I know, but I just had to find out where Salter could be located so I could pay him and get my bracelet back. Here, look, this paper. It was folded under Salter's memo pad. On one side it says, Madge Gladstone 274. The last number is missing, Tornoff. And on the back, meet at 101010. Can this help us, Annie? No, it might. But first, Claire, a couple of questions that might help even more. Who was that ersatz little Cesar who slapped you in there? One of the men I overheard talking at Salter's club. He must have seen me and then followed me here. Good figures. Now, look, honey, you're scrambling awful hard for a thousand-buck bracelet. What's the rest of it? The rest of it? But you're out of your... Honey. Oh, what's the use? That's pretty. I might just as well tell you. The bracelet isn't mine, Mr. Marlowe. It belongs to my aunt. I live with her in San Diego. Oh, you borrowed it while she was away, maybe, huh? Yes. Oh, please, I've learned my lesson. I only want to get that bracelet back now, Mr. Marlowe. Please, please, will you help me? I'll pay you anything. Never mind that now. Oh, please, I must know where Larry Salter is. Okay, Claire, we'll try to find out. But I want condition, huh? Which is what? That you go inside, lock all doors and windows, sit next to the phone, and until you hear from me again, do absolutely nothing on your own. Agreed? Oh, yes, agreed, Mr. Marlowe. Thank you very much. Maybe it was because the sweet young kid had the kind of voice you could still hear long after she was gone. You know, one of those lingering sounds, like the echo of a train whistle hanging on crisp early morning air. But when I was at a pay phone, I stopped wandering and started dialing numbers prefix Gladstone and followed by 274 and then in order 123 and so on until after no answer once, Wisecrackers twice, and a babysitter who thought I was a masher from a high school. I finally scored at number five. The answer took me to a dame named Madge Gilbert, a place called the Beekman Plaza. It wasn't the kind of place you'd go for mother, and Madge Gilbert wasn't the kind of girl mother would put up with. She must have been nice to look at once. And from the smile, pleasant to know. Okay, Mr. Busy Guy, now that we're together, what is it? Well, for one thing, the name's Kirby and you can drop the fancy handle. And for another thing, Kirby? I want to find Larry's salt of it quick. Got a proposition for him. He won't be interested. How can you tell? You don't know what it is. No, but I do know what, at the moment, Larry is. And in three letters, my friend, the word is sad. He lost his lady love. Drink. No, thanks. What do you mean his lady love? I heard that you and Larry... Never mind what you heard. All that used to be. The pre-Janice trial period. Sad comes from Janice finding a better deal, maybe, huh? No, she was killed. Automobile accident. Night before last. Saw the wither? No, again. She was alone and drunk. And that's probably the way Larry is right now. A blind fool. Fill it up, will you? Sure. Look, baby, believe me, it won't put out the torture, Karen. Shut up. Sorry I broke the whole thing up. Now, what was that proposition you mentioned? Well, Larry, exclusively. Where is he? The Foundry on Cushing. The Foundry in Least Los Angeles. Hey, wait a minute, Kirby. You seem kind of lost for a friend of Larry. I'm just fuzzy on locations, that's all. How about numbers? The address down there, what is it? Come on, Pat. Ten-ten. Unless it's been changed recently. That hasn't. Okay, busy guy, you're still all right. Thanks. And if you play it real close, I think you'll be too. See you, Madge. Cushing Avenue in East Los Angeles is an industrial, literally wrong side of the tracks and about as non-Hollywood as an honest day's work. And all the way there, I kept blessing the dumb luck that had made me answer ten-ten for the address before I'd even had time to think. When I pulled up and parked away from the place, I hoped that luck would continue. Because ahead was the Foundry, or what remained of it, and in no sense did it look like friendly territory. I found a metal staircase climbing from what had once been a loading ramp up to the odd foreman's office, where a single, staring, unshielded light inside said that somebody was home. And when I quietly got up those stairs, I saw through a glass door who that somebody was. Larry Salter, alone next to a telephone and pitching dots at a smiling face on a calendar across the wall with red, January 1928. When I knocked with the barrel of my 38 on the dirty glass door, told me to come in without looking up. Make yourself at home, neighbor. Be with you in a minute. Aha! I did it. Your front tooth have been trying for that all night. So glad you made it. Now we'll be on your mind while we talk. About what? Bracelets. Bracelets? Neighbor, this is an iron foundry. What you want is a jewelry shop. Let's save each other a lot of time and level, huh? I'm a private detective named Marlowe Solder and at the moment working for Claire Osborn, who now has the price of a bracelet. Once it back in a hurry, do we do business? No, we don't. And it's not because I don't like your neighbor. What? But because, one, I never heard of any Claire Osborn. And two, bracelets are stuff for second-story men. Which I am not. And three, you ought to get yourself a pair of sneakers, stupid. You've been followed all the way through the yard and up the stairs and into this room. There's no gag, Solder. No, no gag. So while you still can, you better put that gun away because my boy Kovar takes a strange delight in picking people up real bad. Your bracket had chum. You better drop it fast. Yep. That's better. Now, Marlowe, without any double talk about babes and bracelets, let's have it. You're one of Freeman's best boys, aren't you? You think I had something to do with him getting knocked off in that ditch? You're here to square things away. That's it, isn't it? No, it isn't. Get your hands off me. Okay, I won't touch you again. But that's more than I can say for Kovar. Yeah, lots more. It was a toss-up, were they? Kovar's gun on the side of my head. Or the side of my head on the floor had done the damage. By the way, it didn't seem to matter. Because I couldn't make it back any further than Larry Solder's voice. It sounded like it was coming from the bottom of the well. Even though I could see him talking out of the telephone. But then... I couldn't even see that anymore. Will it... Will it 12, please? Hello, Claire. Listen, I'm over in East Los Angeles. Yeah, I think so. 8100 North Lucerne, it's up in Hollywood near you. Now listen, Claire, about the bracelet... There is no bracelet. What? The stock market and no loan made. Where do you want to know where Solder is? What do you want from him? His life. Goodbye, Mr. Marlowe. Wait a minute, Claire. Claire, listen to me, I... I wouldn't try it, Cham. What? Hey, Kovar, listen, I... Shut up! You don't have to go no place until Larry Solder comes back and says so. Now relax, Cham. In just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlowe. But first, a brief message from the four dealers of America. Over 100,000 motorists are experiencing the engineering leadership built into the 54th. As owners, they already know that it's the one fine car in the low-priced field, and it's personal experience that counts in buying a car. That's why the four dealers of America are issuing this special invitation to test drive this new 54th for yourself. In the classified phone directory, you'll find the name of your nearest Ford dealer. Perhaps you know him personally. He'll be delighted to arrange a test drive tomorrow. So get behind the wheel and test drive it for the comfort of its midship ride, and its unmatched roominess. Test drive it for the power and quietness of the only V8 in the low-priced field, the kind of engine found in America's costliest cars, yet priced lower than 10 different six-cylinder cars. Test drive it for the safety of its own king-size brakes, largest in the low-priced field. Before you buy any car at any price, you'll find it to your advantage to test drive the 54th at your Ford dealers tomorrow. Now with our star, Gerald Moore, we return to the second act of Philip Marlowe, and tonight's story, The Torch Carriers. I turned to the poker-faced Culver and the 45, both staring at me from across six dusty feet of concrete floor that made the ancient East LA foundry seem colder and even more lonely. You don't stay put so good, do you, sweetheart? You're kind of heavy-handed with that gun, aren't you, Culver? You want to try again, sweetheart? I'll pass. Standing here staring at each other is up to good dull, don't you think? That's entirely up to you, sweetheart. You bleed pretty. You'd like that, wouldn't you, kid? Look, just so I don't get plugged by mistake. But let me sit down before I fall down, huh? Help yourself. Over there on that box, though, we keep me between you and the door. That's right. You're a good boy. You've got no idea. Hey, come on. How long do we play like this? I'll tell you better when Orville the Squeak gets back. What's Orville the Squeak? He runs Aaron's Ferrari, like finding out what's phony about a certain young babe in her bracelets that don't exist. So that's where the bird with the whiskey soprano fits. That's the way the punk operates, huh? Well, that way, Kovu will both die of old age before... Well, why don't you hear that? Somebody move downstairs. Maybe this is visitors' night in the old foundry. Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart. Those live here, they're rats. They eat small dogs. And one thing more, mother... This... What's that for, punk? Dropping your hands out of your lap where I couldn't see him. Don't try it again. Don't put it on your bill. You know, Kovu, you're holding me here on Larry's solder's orders, and yet I'm the only one who knows what schedule I happen to him tonight. Maybe you better tell me... Sure, sure. Only first I want to know something. What about the late Mr. Freeman best? Freeman was scum. Low, stinking scum. Nobody misses him. I mean nobody. And Larry didn't kill him. That's odd. But he was connected, wasn't he? And there was a girl named Janice Trowell. How does she figure? You better let that one set, sweetheart, for your own sake. Now let's have your end in fast. What's supposed to happen? Did you hear it? Yeah, what? Don't tell me a tough boy like you gets jumpy. Excuse me. All right, give. Come on, wise boy, jabber. Look, Kovu won't do you any good. Shut up. There was something. Maybe your rats are big enough to wear shoes. Shut up, I said. And sit right there or I'll blow you in two, and I mean it. Over. Over. Hey, squeak. Is that you? Who's out there? Answer me! As Kovu raged out of the room, I fell along the side of the box I had been sitting on for a jagged chunk of metal slag I had spotted earlier. It was about the size of a baseball and heavy. I picked it up and moved across to the opposite wall near the door. You, get out of here. The box is through with you. Now feed it. I stepped out and saw Kovu standing at the head of the stairs as back to me. I threw the lump of iron slag with everything I had. Caught him like a hammer between the shoulder blades his head flew back as fingers clawed at the air and he pitched face first down the stairs. I caught a glimpse of a woman ducking out a sight behind the foundry furnace. It was Maj Gilbert. You killed him, didn't you? Kovu's dead? I don't know, and I don't care. What are you doing this boarded up rat trap? There's nobody else here. Just us and Kovu. Creepy number they call all of the squeakers do any minute. That nasty little loss gives me the willies. You made your bed, baby, but let's not get lost. What are you after in here? I've been thinking plenty about that torch you're talking about. I decided if you carry the same old one long enough, you're bound to get burned. Finally felt the heat, huh? Yeah, plenty. So I came here looking for you, or Larry? Couldn't make up your mind. Certainly. I wanted to tell Larry I was through with him. Need to beat you to it, but you found me so. Okay. But if Larry or the squeak come back after what I'm going to tell you, you got to help me get out of here. Larry'd kill me. Okay kid, let's have it. You wanted to know about Janice Traff. Yeah. Okay, I'll tell you. She was beautiful. I'd be the first to admit it. A brunette like every woman wishes she was. And Larry fell for her. She took him away from me just like I'd been dead ten years. Only she was rotten. Never once a clean thought in her twisted, dirty little brain. So says the jealous lover. Jealous? Sure I was jealous at first. And just hurt and disgusted. She was double-crossing Larry every time he turned around, but there was nothing I could do. I tried to tell him anything. Or it's strictly stock, man. Yeah, all but this. One time I made it stick. She borrowed Larry's car to take that slimy Freeman best out for a ride in it. With extra laughs because it was Larry's car, mind you. And Freeman best in case you haven't heard. I've heard. Well, I got a lead that they were going to wind up at the bridge café. I made Larry take me out there to prove what I'd been telling him about Janice was true. You proved it? We waited for him at the bridge. They showed up all right, doing 90. She couldn't make the curve and they hit the bridge rail and killed them both. Wait a minute, wait a minute, you're stretching, baby. Freeman best body was found 30 miles south. Sure, sure it was because Larry couldn't bear the idea of Janice Trowby and found the Freeman best. He tried to protect her and keep everybody from finding out what a tramp she really was. He pulled Freeman's body out of the wrecking hall that cleared down the Long Beach and dumped it. I watched him do it. And all this business is just to keep that secret about Janice Trowby. Sure, can you imagine a love like that going to waste? Even with her dead, even now he won't as much as speak to me. I'm not so bad. I've tried and I've waited. But he won't drop it. So it's all yours Kirby and take it. I hope you put it right where it hurts him the most. Kirby was a stall. I'm Marlowe, private detective. What? Gee, how cheap did I sell out anyway? It depends. The only ax I'm grinding is for a girl named Claire Osborn. Have you heard of her? No. That's funny. For some reason she hates Solter even more than you. Listen, it's horrible. It's horrible. You stay where you are. I'm scared of him. I'll pull his fangs. Just don't get absent-minded about which side you're on. Where's Larry? I don't know. I've been waiting for him. Where's Cobra then? I got something important. Cobra? He went out for a few minutes. Yeah. I don't like this sister. You and he all by yourself. Something's wrong. What is it? Come on. What's the matter? Hold it, all of them. You. Why the gun? Yes. What do you know about Claire Osborn? I don't think I know the party. Sure you do. A cute little brunette named Claire Osborn. I want it now, not later. Hey, go over. Hey, go over. Answer my questions, you creep. You won't get anything out of me. Larry will take care of a book. Yeah, jerk. Maybe there's something on that will give me an answer without talking back. Look, he always wrote things down in a little notebook. It's inside his jacket. Yeah, you're right. Here it is. Let's see. I'm not sure if this is it. Claire Osborn arrived from San Diego last night by plane. I just did it at Wilshire Gardens as Claire Osborn recording the driver's license. Her real name is... For Pete's sake, no wonder. I'll see you, kid. It took me 20 minutes to get from East LA over to Lucerne and another five to find the bleak white bungalow that belonged to Larry Salter. Its front windows were dark when I drove past it parked on a side street and walked back. But in the real, one window showed a light. The screen door was open, so I eased myself into the service porch where I could see Salter sitting at a kitchen table. A look on his face of hurt defiance like a small boy accused of something he hadn't done. I couldn't see it was facing him, but there was no mistaking the voice. It was Claire. I've already told you once, kid, you're making a mistake. No, I'm not. You're going to pay for my sister's death. No court will ever call it murder, but that's what it was. You did it just as surely as if you'd strangled her with your own hands. And now I'm going to get even for Janice. Claire! Give me that gun, Claire. I know you stay out of this. You can't stop me. Nobody can. Even if you shoot me, Marlo, I'll kill him first. Now listen to me. Before you start pulling that trigger, you better know all the facts. Everything Salter here has done since your sister's death has been a shield and protect what little she herself left of a good reputation. She turned bad, Claire. You're lying. No, no. What reason have I got to lie? I'm telling you this because it's true and I can prove it. I don't believe you. You're trying to trick me. She's a double-crossing, dirty cheater who wouldn't shoot square for five minutes. Now there's more! The night she died, she was two-timing Larry. But even in spite of that, he risked his neck to move the body of the other guy just so she wouldn't be found with a kind of cheap trash she'd been running around with. And do you know why? Because Larry Salter there loved your sister, loved her every bit as much as you did. Loved her? Oh, no. No, this can't be true. Yes, it's true, kid. All of it. I loved her, all right? Just too bad that Janice went like she did. Oh, my love. Okay, baby, the hard part's over. Come on, come on, give me the gun. You don't want to shoot anybody, not now. You better not, Claire. Yes, I'll be all right when I get used to a few new ideas. Yeah. What's going to happen to me now? Well, that's pretty much up to you. How do you mean? The world spins like mad, honey. You have to keep up or get lost. Like I was tonight. I was lost, Marlo, terribly. Everything I had any faith in was gone. Yeah, I know. That's because you had blind faith, Claire. You know, that's okay for kids, but you're not a big girl now. I get it. From now on, it's me, on my own two feet and my eyes wide open. Well, take it easy, baby. It's fun to close them once in a while. After I dropped Claire off at her hotel, I... I remember the drink I'd started out to get and left half finished on the bar. But it was too late now to stop anywhere, so I drove home and poured myself a nightcap in my own apartment. I carried over to the window and looked out across the city at the endless miles of winking lights. Each one a torch. Everybody carries a torch for something. Some for a love they can never have. An ideal that's out of reach and some just... just for memory. Funny thing. So many dark corners get their only light from a torch that somebody carries. Philip Marlo will be back in just a moment, but first, here's a message from the four dealers of America. More than a hundred and ten thousand delighted motorists were already driving the new 50 Ford. Here's what Jack Ferrell, hotel manager, says. I did a lot of shopping around and chose Ford for styling. And I'm certainly glad because I found there's plenty of car beneath its beautiful body. There's plenty of power under the hood, too. And it's as comfortable as a high-priced car. I could go on for hours about the quietness, the economy, and the comfort of my car, but it all adds up to this. Ford's a mighty fine car to own. We Ford dealers are not surprised that new owners rave about their 50 Ford's. We've studied this new Ford from stem to stern. We know every detail of its 50 ways new for 50. But until you get behind the wheel, you won't be able to believe how good it is. That's the reason we want you to test drive the 50 Ford. The classified phone directory will give you the name of the nearest Ford dealer. Or perhaps you know him personally. Before you buy any car at any price, you owe it to yourself to test drive the 50 Ford. Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlowe says... This time everything that happened from the orange-haired man with a map past the O for the pitchfork to the body at the covered bridge was wrong. Dead wrong. The adventures of Philip Marlowe bringing you Raymond Chandler's most famous character, star Gerald Moore, are produced and directed by Norman McDonnell and are written for radio by Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt. Feature in the cast were Sammy Hill, John Daener, Vivi Janus, Harry Bartel, Wilms Herbert and Edgar Berrier. The special music is composed and conducted by Richard O'Rant. This is Roy Rowan speaking. Stay tuned now for gangbusters which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations. This is CBS The Columbia Broadcasting System.