 The signal oil program, the Whistler, is your signal for the signal oil program, 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 have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. Yes, friends, it's time for the Whistler. And remember, let every traffic signal remind you. With new signal gasoline, you do go farther than ever. Look for the familiar big yellow and black circle sign that identifies those popular signal service stations throughout the west from Canada to Mexico. And now the Whistler's strange story. Bulletproof. The country's largest news magazine wrote him up under crime. Described him as massive, soft-spoken, methodical. Howard Martine was all of these and more. He was a man who believed in a planned existence, whether it was business, matrimony, or murder. Howard Martine never took chances. He made his plans and carried them out to the letter. This philosophy brought him great financial success, and it brought him a wife who was young and beautiful to look at and who hated him with all her heart. That's you, Andrea. How's your headache? What? Your headache. That's why you went to your room, isn't it? Oh, oh, yes. It's, uh, it's better. Thank you. Howard, I've come to a decision about... about... That's my dear? Yes. I'm going away. Oh, now really, Andrea, we've been all over that before. I'm getting a divorce, Howard. There's nothing you can do about it. You make it very difficult for me, Andrea. After I explained, I can't afford to lose you just now. No, it wouldn't be good for business, would it? Exactly. Oh, that sounds very callous, I suppose. Well, I was in love when I married you, Andrea. In my own peculiar way, I tried hard. Imagine we both tried. But quite apart from that, my marriage to you was the best, uh, uh, merger I ever closed. When we met, I was a fly-by-night bond salesman. Now you own a corporation. Uh, no. No, we own a corporation. Don't worry. You can have my share. Now, that's very generous of you, my dear. Typically feminine. But I'm afraid without you, there wouldn't be any share. What do you mean? One of your most endearing charms, Andrea, is the fact that you have a great many rich friends. Naturally, when you married me, they felt called upon to make some sort of gesture, hmm? The show that I was being accepted is one of them. So they entrusted their investments to the firm of Howard Martine, Inc. And very wisely too. Now, what do you suppose would happen the moment the news got around that you were divorcing me? Well, I don't think it has anything to do with it. Well, don't be naive, Andrea. You think I'm gonna lose everything I acquired by marrying you? I'm afraid you didn't protect yourself very well, Howard. It would seem so, wouldn't it? I'm sorry. I'm leaving in the morning. If you sue for divorce, Andrea, you'll make a fool of yourself. You're bluffing, Howard. You've no grounds for contesting. You can't prove a thing. I can prove enough to stop you cold. If you don't believe me, come here. What's that? Here. Hold this up to your ear. Call him now. Oh, Paul, what if he refuses? There's nothing for him to refuse. But he's told me he can test. He can't. He doesn't know about us. And even if he did, that'd be no proof. Is that enough? Oh, would you like to hear more? You know, I have quite a collection. It was just a matter of tapping the dictaphone into the private telephone in your room. Every time you got one of your headaches and went upstairs, I threw a little switch down here. Now I have a record of all your headaches. So, that's your proof? It is. Any one of these dictaphone records is enough to throw your divorce suit out of court. Very clever of you, Howard. I had no idea you suspected. Well, what are you going to do? Yeah, we'll go on exactly as before, Andrea. Your life is your own, my dear. I make only one demand. That you remain in this house as my wife and continue to entertain our friends or clients, whichever you prefer. But the greater glory of Howard Martin incorporated. And what if I refuse? I'm afraid you have no alternative. Is there some joke, my dear? Oh, yes, Howard. And it's on you. I'll show you what alternative I have. When I get through with you, you'll beg for a divorce. That's a rather embarrassing prospect. I'll go to them, Howard. I'll go to every one of my rich friends as you call them, tell the entire story. The truth, Howard. How you married me for their money. How you recorded my phone conversations. Yes, I'll even tell them about Paul. Don't be a fool, Andrea. Who would I? Remember, they're my friends, loyal to me. They gave you their business for my sake. You said that yourself. And when I tell them to take their business elsewhere, they'll do it, whether I'm married to you or not. That would mean exposing yourself. You wouldn't. Oh, wouldn't I? Let me see. Who's your biggest account? Martin Whitford, isn't it? Well, Marty and I grew up together. He'll do anything for me. What do you think will happen to your precious corporation when the others discover Whitford's pulled out? I could even phone him now. Wait. Get away from that phone. Well... Let me think it over. I'll take those dictaphone records first, if you don't mind. They're in that box. Thank you. Well... Oh, you can have your divorce. Only give me a week to work things out. Look, you can afford to be generous now, Andrea. You're going to marry your Paul. You've won. Well, all right. But you've got to stay here, as if nothing had happened. Otherwise, the story will come out before I can do anything to prepare the ground. Very well. I'll stay. But no longer than a week. Thank you, Andrea. That'll be time enough. With the prologue of Bulletproof, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange story by the Whistler. It takes extra quality to go farther. Yes, it takes extra quality to go farther. And Signal Gasoline has the quality that has made it famous throughout the West, from Canada to Mexico, as the go farther gasoline. But even more important to you than Signal's good mileage are the performance features in Signal Gasoline, which make that mileage possible. You see, by rearranging the atoms in gasoline molecule, science gave new Signal Gasoline quicker starting, faster pickup, and quieter, higher anti-knock. And it's because of this, because it helps your motor perform more efficiently that you now go farther than ever with new Signal Gasoline. That's an important point to remember. It's the same qualities that give you extra driving pleasure that also give you extra mileage. That's why Signal says look to your speedometer for the best proof of gasoline quality. It takes extra quality to go farther. And Signal is the famous go farther gasoline. And now, back to the Whistler. It was like a game of chess, wasn't it, Howard? You had your attack planned right down to the last detail with a final checkmate only a few moves away. But as it often happens, you were so absorbed in the plan of attack that you completely overlooked the obvious simple counter-move that Andrea would be bound to make, that you would go to her friends and tell them the truth. All you could do was try to control the rage inside of you until she left the room. You sit alone in the library and try to think, realizing, of course, that there's only one answer now. It's midnight when you decide you'll have to stop thinking about it for the time being. You have a week left and your brain will be clearer in the morning. There's an evening paper on the table next to the chair and you pick it up, glance at the headlines on page one. An article in the right-hand column catches your eye. Suspect confesses in nightclub killing. Ernest Krug booked on suspicion yesterday, finally broke down under intensive questioning at police headquarters. The case marked another triumph for Inspector William Conrad of the homicide department, who followed his usual routine in shooting cases by first concentrating the department's entire effort on the bullet found in the victim's body. Yeah, that's it. Good old Inspector Conrad, the ballistics boy. Well, you have a plan now, haven't you, Howard? The next morning you're quite chatty with Andrea over the breakfast table. Of course. There's no point in holding grudges, is there? Particularly since the poor girl hasn't much of a future. You begin by dipping into your past the shadowy past of a one-time confidence man named... not Martin, but Marin, Joe Marin. That was your name in the old days when you used to play around in the fringe of the law, always ducking out just in time to let the other fella take the rap. As Joe Marin, you play a visit to an old friend in his dingy little gun shop in the slums of the city. What'll you have? Hello, Sam. You went up on me, mister. Oh, you're not forgetting your old friends, are you? Joe Marin. That's better. It's been a long time, Sam. Almost eight years. From where I said it felt longer. Oh, that little stretch of yours hasn't seen done you any harm. No, I had the time of my life. Kept wishing you was with me. Oh, I got out from under, Sam, and you didn't quite. After all, I didn't tell everything I knew. If I did, you might have got the chair. That's why I want you to do me a favor. You're killing me. I can pay for it, Sam. Enough to buy back eight years? You always were a man for a grudge, but you're an expert gunsmith and I need you. I want you to fix this 45 so it'll shoot 22 caliber slugs. It's for a friend of mine. I'm learning something new every day. What's the idea? You're not supposed to know why, Sam. Only how. Well. Looks like a waste of good gun metal to me. Let's see the ride. Can you do it? Yeah, I can do it, but I ain't gonna. No? Why not? I'm exactly my own boss. I gotta be careful. Oh, yes. I know all about that. You know that's why I'm so sure you're gonna do this for me? I don't get you. Well, being on parole kind of fences a guy in, doesn't it? What does it? Listen, Maren, I know what you're talking about. I ain't done anything to violate my parole. That's not the way I heard it. Well, I'll try somewhere else. See you in a little while. Wait a minute. Shake down, huh? What do you know, Maren? I don't know a thing, Sam, not a thing. What do you want this? Day after tomorrow? Pretty short order. It'll be worth your while. Okay, Mr. Big. Patience is your strong suit, Howard. Two days of waiting. Two days in which your seeming nervousness is interpreted by Andrea merely as concern about your precious corporation. Finally, you return to Sam's place and pick up your package. Andrea arrives late that evening and goes straight up to a room without a word to you. You wait alone in the library until you're sure the servants are asleep in their separate quarters. Then you walk quietly up to Andrea's room. Will you frighten, dear? It's only your husband. What do you want? Just a final plea, Andrea. Are you quite certain you want to go through with the divorce? Did you wake me up in the middle of the night to ask me that? No, it's only half past. The answer is yes, Howard. Now please leave me alone. You won't reconsider? Good night, Howard. Well, I tried. I did everything in my power to... Howard, what are you doing? Howard, no! It's the verdict, Doc. It was instantaneous, Inspector. About eight, ten hours ago. Uh-huh. Twenty-two through the left temple. I want that bullet, of course. I have it for you this afternoon. All right. The room looks like it was hit by a cyclone. What do you suppose they were after? No, jewels, mostly. And they got them. Oh, by the way, we're not saying anything about the jewelry to the papers. Ha-ha. Well, Inspector, here's another one for you to crack in your ballistics laboratory. Yeah. You know, Doc, they used to laugh at me at first. They called me a nut. Bullets on the brain, they said. But they're beginning to find out now that the big story in every shooting case is written in those little rifling marks on the bullet. Plainer even than fingerprints a lot of times. Excuse me a minute, Doc. I just got the doctor's report, Mr. Martin. Oh, yes, Inspector? Your room is just down the hall from your wife. It's funny you didn't hear anything during the night. Well, I don't know. You know, I might have heard a shot, but I can't think very clearly. Yes, certainly, I understand. I seem to remember some sort of nightmare. I thought it was a dream. You see, I didn't know anything had happened until the butler woke me this morning after... I see, I see. No, it's funny that 22, it's a woman's weapon. Never heard of a second story man packing anything in less than a 38. Hmm. Oh, Mr. Martin. Yes? This Army 45 of yours here in the trophy case. Is this the only gun in the house? Oh, of course, Inspector. If you have any doubt, you may search the house, perhaps the servants. That's 45, all right. You want to take it with you in spectac and remove it from the case? No, no, it's not necessary. This job was done by 22, and I think you can forget the servants. This looks like an outside job. Start to finish. Hello, Inspector Howard Martin. Oh, yes, Mr. Martin. I'm sorry I haven't been much helped you during the past few days. Well, I understand. I just called to see how you were coming along. Well, I'm afraid we have much news for you yet. We'll really get a move on though once the killer dumps those jewels. And you'll have to do it sooner or later. I see. Well, thanks very much, Inspector. Call me if there's anything I can do, huh? I certainly will. Good night. Good night. All right, so good. Pardon me, sir. Yes, Edward, what is it? There's a gentleman in the library. Who is it? I don't know his name, sir. He was quite insistent. All right, Edward, thanks. Oh, Joe. What do you want? Relax, you'll pour yourself a drink. Oh, get on mine, I'll just help myself. Pretty good bourbon. You're just going to stand there, sit down, go on. All right, Sam, what is it? Oh, an offer of my condolences, first of all. Tough, ain't it? What happened to your wife and me? Yeah, quite a shock. You know, I said to myself, there's something to think about. All I got is a newspaper to go by, understand? Page one. Society dame knocked off turn robbery. Don't say what kind of a robbery. Only that the dame is knocked off with a 22. Now, there's something to make a guy think, ain't it? Go on, I'm listening. Especially unusual here in this town where the homicide inspectors are not on ballistics. So right off, I figured it out. Somebody saw on the inspector a curve. That's when I think of old Joe Marron. Threatened and afframed me on a parole violation. If I don't play nice and fix his army 45, so shall shoot like a 22. Marron, Martin, same guy. I put two and two together, the bell rings. And out comes 100 grand. That's what it's gonna cost you, Joe. 100 grand. I haven't got 100 grand. I'm a reasonable character. What have you got? I can't do it, Sam. I can't. What are you thinking, Joe? Wait a minute. I have got 100 grand in jewelry. How hot is it? Hot at all. It belonged to my wife. Look, you can turn it into cash in 10 minutes if you want to. Let's have a look, huh? Right. There's a way out of this one, too, isn't there, Howard? The paper said nothing about the stolen jewelry. And by the time Sam finds out, he'll be behind bars as the number one suspect. Meantime, you can find another gunsmith somewhere and have the incriminating 22 caliber barrel removed from the 45 army automatic in your trophy case. Then it won't matter how much Sam talks. He has a record. He was caught with the goods. No one will believe him in a million years. Yes, Howard. You found a way out. Well, what do you think, Sam? Diamond brooch, pearls. If it's hot, to help me, I'll kill you. Oh, don't worry. You won't have any trouble. You'll get more than your 100 grand. Thanks. Okay, that's it. I'll let you know how I come out, Joe. Yeah. You know where to get me. Yeah. Oh, one other thing. I'm taking your custom-built 45 along with me. Just in case I needed to back up my store. Wait a minute. You're double-crossing. Shut up, Joe. I'd hate to pull a trigger at a time like this. Goodnight, Joe. He's gone and there's nothing you can do now, Howard. Once again, you became so wrapped up in your own plans, you forgot the obvious counter move. This time, the Army 45 in the trophy case, Sam's ace in the hole. You spend an anxious evening. It's late now and you sit alone in the library trying to think. House is quiet with an occasional sound from the pantry where Edward the butler is polishing silver. And then... Who is it? Who's there? Take it easy, Joe. The thing might go off on my hand. Sam, what are you doing? Get up. Open the window. It's cold out here on the balcony. Yeah. Okay. Double-crossing skunk. It wasn't hot, huh? Now, listen, Sam, I... You know that jewelry was hot? You knew it was bait to catch your wife's murderer. Pretty neat. Lucky I knew the fence he took me off. You always was a rat, Joe. Strictly a rat. There's only one way to handle a rat. I got it all wrong, Sam. I'd rather talk your way out of it. I'm gonna give it to you, Joe. Just what you deserve. Oh, Edward, how did you get in here? Edward, give it to me. I got it. Give it to me. Now, just what were you saying, Sam? Okay. Okay, it's an old one, Joe. I guess it's still good. Yeah. By the way, where is Edward? It doesn't concern you. I'm gonna kill you, Sam. Self-defense. Made to order. Yeah? Yeah. I don't think so, Joe. There we are. No, Joe. You see, the minute you pull the trigger of that little pea shooter, you put the rope around your neck. What do you mean? Don't be stupid, Joe. Just give me the rod like a nice boy. You ain't gonna pull that trigger and hang yourself, are you? Because that's what you'd be doing, Joe. I met a conran found another 22 slug in my body. Same as the one that killed your wife. It'll be all over, wouldn't it? You see, Joe? Get what I mean. Don't come any closer. You won't pull that trigger. You can't, Joe. One more step, Sam. I'm warning you. Besides, you haven't got as I... Haven't I, Sam? The whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending of tonight's story. But right now, since most folks never see how or where the gasoline they use in their car is made, it occurred to me that you might be interested to look in on the organization that brings you the whistler and those fine signal oil products. It all started not long after World War I when a small group of young Westerners got together to form their own independent oil company, signal oil and gas company. In the face of what seemed overwhelming competition, these determined young men succeeded in bringing to Western motorists the first anti-knock gasoline at regular prices. Being independent themselves, they naturally sold signal gasoline only through independent service stations. Just a handful of them at that time. But motorists liked signal products, liked them so well that the signal organization grew and grew until today, independent signal dealers serve seven Western states from Canada to Mexico. Now, obviously, there must be good reasons why so many motorists have switched to signal. You can discover these reasons for yourself by just stopping at your own neighborhood signal dealers. There, you'll find the tops in gasoline and automotive lubricants, backed by signal's 15-year tradition of quality. And you'll enjoy more thorough, more conscientious service because signal dealers, being in business for themselves, have an incentive to serve you better. And now, back to the Quistler. Now it is dead now, isn't it? Quite dead. And shooting Sam down with the same gun you used to kill Andrea was just like riding a confession to Inspector Conrad. Yes, he'll find the 22 slug in Sam's body and it'll all be over. Unless, unless you can get rid of the body first. Yes, it's your only chance. And then a short time later when Edward, your butler, comes into the room. Well, Edwards, quite a mess, huh? It was self-defense, sir. He threatened you with a gun. I saw it all from the hall. Yeah, self-defense. Well, what are you going to do, Mr. Martin? Oh, give me a hand. I've got to get him out of here. Oh, but, sir, you can't. The police. Give me a hand, will you? Mr. Martin, you shouldn't. Shut up and grab his feet. Sir, if you'll only... Hey, there's Sam. Go on, grab his feet. All right. Out that way. Go on. Go on. Kick the door back. All right. Now, this way. Down the hall. We can take him down the back. Mr. Martin, I don't understand. Will you shut up? I'll hold him up so I can... What are you doing here? Maybe your butler can answer that one, Martin. I've been trying to tell you, sir. After I heard the crash of broken glass and saw this man come into the room with a gun, I called the police. What's this all about, Martin? Okay. Okay, Conrad, I... Guess you might just as well know the whole story. You'll know it anyway when you dig the slug out of his body. It'll be a 22. A 22? Your wife was killed with a gun. Yeah, yeah. Here's the gun. Wait a minute. This is a 45. I had it rigged to shoot a 22. Sam, he's the guy on the... Well, he fixed it for me. So that's the way you worked it, huh? Maybe he came to see you tonight for a little dough to keep him quiet. And you shot him with the same gun you used to kill your wife, huh? Yeah. And it's too bad you couldn't have used another gun on him. It might have been a nice case of self-defense that way. Sure. But I knew when you found the 22 slug... Yeah, yeah. Now, let's see how your buddy fixed this gun. What's the matter? I think you're going to be in for a rather unhappy surprise, Martin. What do you mean? You shouldn't have been so quick to spill your story. Apparently, your friend Sam here realized it wasn't such a good idea to carry a rigged 22 job around. So he changed it back to a 45. What? That's right. The slug you pumped into this man wasn't a 22, Martin. It was a regular 45. 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. Featured in tonight's program were Gerald Moore and Mary Jane Croft. This program produced by George W. Allen with tonight's story by Kenneth Harvey, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. Your signal for the signal oil program, the whistler. This is Marvin Miller speaking, reminding you to look for those familiar yellow and black circle signs that identify those popular signal oil stations throughout the west from Canada to Mexico. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.