 Standard of California, on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West, invites you to let George do it. Vultures on the wing, another adventure of George Valentine. Personal notice, taint just my stock and trade. If the future shapes up like a condolence card with a big black border, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Dear Mr. Valentine, because of a stroke of extraordinary luck, the investment of $20,000 promises to yield me a half million. But the transaction must be closed swiftly tonight, because with so much money involved, there are naturally vultures on the wing. I sing in the colonade room at the Savoy Wilton, but I shall be home this afternoon at three. It is convenient for you. Signed Maria. You're concerned that there is something questionable about the proposition, is that it, Mr. Valentine? No, I guess I'm just a creature of habit, Mrs. Burnett, but... It's Maria to the whole world. Then why not you and Ms. Brooks, of course. Oh, well, let's be real chummy and call me Bruxy. You were saying, George... Oh, just call me, Georgie. Now, I was saying when 20 grand teases back a half million, I begin to drip with all kinds of doubts. Oh, it's all very legal and terribly simple. All right, you've written a lead. What about the rest of the story? Those vultures on the wing. Yes. Four priceless paintings by Sebastian Zunderd were sold to a very high-ranking general when the Nazis occupied Holland. Sold? Yes. The owner was a collaborator. He had no scruples about dealing with the Nazis. So it was all very legal. Go on. These four masterpieces passed from hand-to-hand by way of Portugal and Argentina to this country. They're still considered among the missing. But I'm in touch with the present owner, and he'll let me have them for $20,000. Huh, bargain sale. Well, how did you and, uh, Mr. X get together in the first place? That's where I think I've been very clever, Bruxy. From the boulevard de la Croixie in Cannes to zeros on the Sunset Strip. Wherever I've sung, I let my interest in the Zunderd canvases be known to the right people. Wasn't that a little like shooting blanks and not even having a target? I reasoned it had to be somebody in the international set. I was right. Last night, after two years, I received a telephone call. Um, just a minute, Maria. Huh? Oh, Nick, I told you to stay in the library. This is a business conference. Why don't you have conferences with your husband? I graduated from the Harvard School of Business. Will you please leave us, Nick? No, we're going to have a conference. And don't want any strangers going to start by throwing this gentleman out. Now, hold it, will you, Buster? What have you been drinking? Singapore Slings with vodka? Let go of me. Nick, Nick, if you don't behave yourself. Yeah, I know. You'll leave me. Then what would I do when all the bottles got empty? Not in front of these people, Nick. Please. Ah, pride, self-respect. Most important, of course. Ah, go on with your conference, darling. That's better. You may not think so, but I did graduate from Harvard School of Business. Forgive the interruption. But, uh, as I said, George... Yeah? The plan for tonight is terribly simple. You are to pick up the briefcase with the zundits in the colonnade room. You are my accident insurance to make sure that everything goes off smoothly. We have just about ten minutes before you meet the man with the briefcase down in the lobby. This is just about my cue to go to the powder room with this briefcase full of old newspapers under my wrap. Right. And on the way back, make certain everybody in the place knows you've got it. Do you really believe anybody will think we've made the swap in the powder room? This operation is strictly cloak and dagger, Bruxy, so let's play along. Well, what have I been doing up to now? Well, the point is, if there are any interested parties in the offing, they'll stick right here with me and your briefcase, while you go downstairs and claim the other one and get over to Maria's. Well, here I go. I just hope my briefcase isn't showing. I was hoping the young lady would leave, so I could have a moment with you, Mr. Valentine. Okay, I'll take out the stopwatch, friend. Running errands for Maria? Charming creature, isn't she? I'm Alfred Stieger. Stieger Art Galleries. Oh, so you know me. No, I've been lucky up till now. Maria the Darling might very well become the proud owner of four perfectly breathtaking zunders tonight. You're not sorry. But the poor pet is always at such loose ends. She might very well lose these treasures. Didn't it buy some chance they found their way to me? You might very well find yourself $5,000 a rich child. How did you get hold of the information, Stieger? Lord Heaven's man, you shouldn't have. Hasn't Maria even mentioned my name? I really believe I feel slighted. Or you'll bounce back. Just because I'm considering double-crossing her doesn't mean I don't think the world is the dear girl. However, what have you to say about being $5,000 richer? Shroopers, awkward things, always getting in the way. But think it over, Valentine. Ah, good evening, Stieger. Oh, fan Brooklyn. Would you mind returning to your table so I could speak to Mr. Valentine? Now look here, old man. Oh, please, boys, don't fight over me. Please do not make me ask you again, Stieger. Oh, very well. I was quite through anyway. Oh, by the way, ma'am, look, like... Yes? Why don't you drop around at my galleries? I have some excellent reproduction. Why do you speak to me of reproduction? Because these might fool even you, despite your reputation as a connoisseur. Good night. You belong in this act, too, Mr. Van Ropen? In a manner of speaking, I am the act, Mr. Valentine. Aw. If Maria has deemed advice to hire you to ensure the safe transfer of the tsundere canvases tonight, that is her affair. But I must make sure you understand one thing. Well, not just understanding one thing, it'd be a great improvement. The $20,000 Maria untrusted to you belongs to me. She is merely a commission agent, someone I hired more than two years ago to make it known in the right places that I was in the market. I'd like to know who isn't in the market for those things. I myself am merely a representative of a syndicate, a group of men who intend to acquire those paintings at any cost. So it would be more sensible if you made sure they found a way to me. Mr. Van Brooklyn, at the moment I'm playing bouncy ball with Maria. Now, if you want to get in on the game, you'd better talk to her. Otherwise, somebody might get hurt. I see. Well, I'm afraid I must leave you. You're a lovely companion this return. It was a great pleasure. Oh, don't mention it. Mr. Character with a beard. His eyes look like a couple of boiled onions behind those thick glasses. Later, Brooksy, later. Let me have that. You can't say everybody in the place doesn't know I came back with a briefcase. I did everything with play catch with it. Yeah, I saw you. Now go on and get the one we really want. You're okay, George. But be a nice, peace-loving decoy, darling. I want you back all in one piece. Okay, go on now, Angel. Get on your tricycle. You're okay. See you at Maria's. Nice run you've got there, Valentine. Well, thank you. I've got very good taste. Except in the kind of people I seem to attract to this table. Why don't you be satisfied? Stay away from Maria. How are you, Buster? And don't tell me I can find out in any post office by just looking at your picture front and side. Maybe you've heard of me, Jim Fowler. I hope you noticed I just went pale. Hey. Now you shut up all over and listen. Maria and me are friends. Good friends, catch. That's cozy, Fowler. I want you to stay away from her and I want that briefcase you picked up for her tonight. I'll give it to her dressing room. As you were, Jim, reach like that again and you're gonna leave some fingers on that table when you say goodbye. You're not very smart, Valentine. On your way, Pixie, I got things to do. In the car. Oh, you're the muscle boy for Van Broklin, Stig or Fowler. Get inside or you're gonna collect yourself a lot of holes that'll spoil your appearance and give me that briefcase. Suppose I pout. You're not gonna shoot me down on the street, are you? Try me. Get wise, stupid. You're playing with the older boys now. Get in! Hey, Brooks, what happened? Oh, pray they. George, I got here just before you, George. I hurried here after my last show. I found her on the floor and the paintings she brought, they're gone. We'll get to that in a minute. Are you sure you're feeling better now, Angel? Yes, darling, I think so. Well, I came right here. Just as you told me. Then when I opened the door, it was all dark. Then, zow, somebody hit me. Has your husband Nick been over there like that all the time? I don't know. I found him that way with his head down on the table. He's no good to anybody. George, you don't look fresh as a buttercup yourself. Where have you been? Somebody wanted a briefcase full of newspapers. It's so bad they floated me out of town. I had to walk back till I got a care. Oh, the pictures. I told you, I told you we'll get to that. The next time around, I'm going to get the truth from you. Right now, I want to see if your husband here knows anything we ought to know. All right, you. Hey, Burnett. Come on, Burnett, snap out of it. Come on, sit up in the chair. Nick! George. Yeah. One of our friends fixed it so that Nick will be stone cold on the hottest day in July. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. If you're driving a new car, you're probably getting a lot of pleasure out of its smooth performance. But wait until you try a tank full of new, improved Chevron Supreme gasoline. It gives car performance to delight the heart of every motorist. Thanks to special blending agents, new Chevron Supreme gives your car faster starts and faster warm-ups. It gives your car new alertness and traffic, ping-free power to lift your car over hills. In fact, for today's high compression engines, you can't buy a better gasoline. And premium quality Chevron Supreme is climate tailored. So wherever you drive in the West, no matter what the temperature or altitude, you'll agree, new Chevron Supreme gets the best out of your car. Try a tank full tomorrow. Get it at Standard Stations and at Independent Chevron Gas Stations, where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. And now back to tonight's adventure of George Valentine. A glamorous lady known simply as Maria to the International Smart Set sends you on an errand, namely to drop off 20 grand and pick up poor paintings. Then various and sundry personalities start double crossing each other all around you to snare the above mentioned canvases. And as an added Philip, Maria's husband is found stabbed to death. Momentarily, you bide your time, which if you're anything like George Valentine, you devote to cerebral contortions while Lieutenant Riley does the talking. Uh, Mrs. Burnett, did your husband know all three of them? I mean Ben Broklin, Stieger and Fowler. Yes, more or less. Uh-huh. Well, I've got an old points bulletin now for them, we'll have their stories in the morning. Right now, I want to get the picture here straight. Now, Miss Brooks. Yes, sir. You're sure there isn't anything you forgot to tell us? No. It was dark. I hardly got in the door. Then I thought I saw somebody looking at me. Well, then that may be imagination. I came here directly from the Savoy Wilson. Anybody can tell you that I... Okay, Mrs. Burnett, okay. Nobody is questioning your alibi. Anything else, Miss Brooks? Come on, think hard, Brooks. Yeah, well... Just as I passed out, I... I remember hearing a loud noise. A crash of some kind. That's all. Hey, Riley, that means the lamp and the stand over there were knocked over when the murderer was leaving and not in the struggle with Burnett. Back to the same thing. They both knew each other when there was no struggle. But Valentine, maybe you can explain something else to me. The bloodstains near the foyer door and Burnett, lying with his head on the table, a good dozen feet away. How did he make the trip with the knife in him and why no signs of blood in between? Yeah, I've been kicking that around too early, but it keeps bouncing back at me. Yeah. Well, we leave the whole thing until tomorrow when I know a lot more than I know right now. Well, good night. Oh, uh, you'd better stay put, Mrs. Burnett. Oh, we'll come along with you, Lieutenant. May I see you a moment, George? I'll be right there, Brooks. Yeah, Maria. You're not walking out on me, are you? I... I need you more than... I need you more than ever now. I can't imagine you needing anybody. But if it's gonna make your dreams any sweeter, I'll be seeing you in the morning. Better get your story straight. You are very anxious to speak with Maria Valentine. But I thought it would be wise if I talked to her first this morning. So there would be no misunderstanding. What does he mean, Maria? I'm sure Mr. Van Brooklyn tends to tell you that himself. But first, may I explain this patch of court plaster on my cheek? Yeah, it looks like somebody set out to make a veal cutlet out of your nose. Unfortunately, the tugs who attacked me took my word that I do not have the tsundere, so I don't know where they are. Which is true. Sounds like foulers boys on the job. The important thing is to restate the bargain I made with you, Maria. A liberal bonus if you located the paintings and to consummate the deal, $20,000 at your disposal, for which I have a receipt. What have you got to say, Maria? Perhaps she will speak more freely after I leave. Just remember, Maria. I expect you to produce the money or the pictures. All right, sweetheart. Let's scrape off all the fine-fingered intrigue and see what we've got here. Oh, George. George, I've been so alone, so frightened. No fun getting caught in your own squeezes. Come closer. George, I'm in love with you. Well, you must be really scared to stagger into that routine. Don't talk like that. I suppose now I'm expected to rush out and get those undits for you. That's a lie. I swear I was thinking of us, but the future would be like with all that money. Which wouldn't belong to you. Let me tell you what the score is. I sent Bruxy over to Stieger's Galleries to ask a few questions, and I... Don't give me that used-up smile. I'll admit that's one for my memory book. We're still in business. I'll let you know when I'm taking in my son. Now, you listen. I've measured all the angles, Maria, and I think I know the setup. Maybe even a little better than you do. I'm listening. About two years ago, Fowler slid into your life. He was a kind of tough-minded male you liked. An exciting contrast, a Nicky boy who was always lit up like a busy switchboy. No character analysis, darling. Just the facts. What if I told you a boyfriend moved in on you, shoulder hostler and all, to deal with Van Broklen? What? But they don't even know each other. I'm guessing it was Fowler who's sick the Dutchman on you. To suggest you passed the word about the paintings to your friends, the former black marketeers that run down royally the professional sophisticates. You can't make me believe that. Those two had split the fancy fee Van Broklen's syndicate was willing to pay. That is, if one or the other wouldn't work a double-cross. Why, those two conniving... Makes sense, doesn't it? But then you and Brother Stieger were gonna pull a fast one, too. As an art dealer, he can not only okay the pictures, but find the right market for them. I think you could pay back the 20 grand and say you weren't gonna play anymore. Very well. I'd need that. But there's more for you. Stieger was all-prime to cross you. What? Made me a proposition. 5,000 if I delivered those masterpieces to him. What an unholy mess. And if it's all... if it's all true. Listen, George, if you play this right, you can still... Oh, Fowler. I told you to stay away from her, Valentine. It's a bad memory, one of my worst faults. Go over him, Batsy, see if he's catting a rod. Stand still while I fend you, bud. Never mind. Here you are. Jim, what are you going to do? We'll talk later. Hey, look at this fancy heated this guy cuts around, Mr. Fowler. Look at me. I'm the Green Hornet. I've got a whole army coming at me. But I go... What did you pick that up, Fowler? Batsy is missing a couple of brain cells. There's too many comic books. But he does what I tell him. And that's all that matters. Valentine, what are those pictures? I got the same story I gave your boys last night. I wouldn't know. Jim, is it true about you and Van Valken? Yeah. Like I said, we'll talk later. Batsy. Yeah, Mr. Fowler? Drag this paper over to my hotel. Keep him there. He's got a lot of talking to do. If he doesn't, he's not going to walk back from this ride. Look at me now. Oh, please, please, no more, Batsy. I want you to stop waving that gun. Now I'm the heavyweight champion. Bam, biff, bang, he's down. Hey, one, two, three, four. Hey, hey, hey, Batsy. There's somebody at the door. What? Hey, one score got to you and you know what you get. I know, I know. What's more, I believe? What do you want, sister? I'm here to clean up Mr. Fowler's suite. I ain't got all day, you know. Hey, wait a minute. Oh, I didn't know you had company. Oh, but I can clean around the gentlemen if he'll just cooperate. Wow, you're a cute kid. How about you cooperating with me? We might get places together. Oh, fresh, ain't you? Hey, come on, come on. Make a snap and get through. Gee, you've got a funny voice, mister. Huh? Oh, didn't you know? You're talking to a frog with a man in this throat. Now, listen here, you... He looks like an overgrown meatball to me. That's all from you, babe. Looks like a punch-drunk fighter with a hot foot. I warned you, babe. Now I'm going to play marbles with them pretty blue eyes. George! That does it. Oh! In polite to turn your back on it. Yes! Did you see the size of his hands, George? Easy, but she will get his gun. You were terrific, Angel. What blessed little voice got at you from Stieger's over here? Stieger's own sweet falsetto. Huh? Well, when I walked into his galleries, I heard Stieger screaming blue murder in the back. Somebody was giving him a going over. Oh, Fowler's really covering territory today. And then I heard Stieger cry out your name. Yeah. Then somebody said Fowler was taking care of you at his hotel. I mumbled something and backed out of the place. Oh, if I had the time, Angel, I'd kiss you. Oh! I ought to get something for the five bucks I split the chamber made. Now we got to give this place a double-quick canvas for those zunders. Yeah, but if they were here, George, why would Fowler be picking up assault and battery charges all over the city? I don't know, Bruxy, but there are a couple of weird angles that keep popping up in my mind like three blind mice. Such ass. Why now? Get on the phone and ask Raleigh to get our all-star cast at Maria's. Ladies and gentlemen, you will notice that one member of our little group is missing. Yes. That's Mr. Stieger. Why, uh, in the morgue. What? Yes. Yes, your, uh, gunsles put a little much in... too much enthusiasm in their work, Fowler. You're not putting this on me, Lieutenant. And I'm clamming up till I see my lawyer. That's your constitutional right. Mm-hmm. Uh, let me have those paintings, Valentine. Hey, Valentine. You found them. They're mine. I can produce a receipt for the money I advance Maria. Where'd you find them? Where were they? In your place, Buster. Right under a neat pile of your monogram dundee. Which adds up to this. Fowler, I'm holding you for the murder of Nick Burnett and Stieger. Can I, uh, call my lawyer? I don't know what you were trying to get out of Stieger, but that'll come out in time. Wait, Lieutenant. Yeah? Somebody planted those pictures in his apartment. Well, what do you mean? But that sounds crazy, George. Why? Maybe mine here, Van Broekland, can tell us. I? Who was willing to spend a fortune to secure those dundas? Yes, Valentine. That doesn't make much sense. Well, but it does, Lieutenant. It does. With Fowler framed for murder, you wouldn't have to split with him, Van Broekland. The paintings were bound to find their way back to you. You have legal ownership. Maria's receipt. Absurd, mere speculation. When Miss Brooks walked in here last night, she thought she saw two eyes staring at her. They were the glint from those egg-sized lenses you use for glasses, Van Broekland. That's right, George. Oh, I'm sure. The noise Miss Brooks heard after she was hit was you crashing to the floor with a table in the vase. That's when you got that gash in the cheek. Nobody's been slamming you around. Then it was his blood in the foyer, not Burnett's. Yeah, the lab tests will prove that beyond any doubt, Riley. You're pinned down like a butterfly, Van Broekland. Well, what's the joke? These pictures. People have bought and sold them, degraded their souls and spilled blood for them, ever since I first put them on the market in New York. What of it? Justice. They did it because these are masterpieces, art in its most sublime form. I know all this because I have followed their trail across the world. There's no syndicate. No one but me. I want them back and you know why? Because I painted them myself. Oh, listen. Yes, yes. You wanted them. I fooled the entire art world, the greatest hoax in the history of art. With my failing eyesight, I knew I would never paint again. But I would have these as a tribute to my talents. Yes. And after I died, they would be accepted as the best things Sundar ever did. Please. Valentine, it would be possible for me to keep them with me until they... I know why not, Van Broekland. You've paid for them. No, Bruxy. Fowler's Goon Squad merely gave Stieger a good roughing up and Broekland delivered the coup de gras. Oh, George, the reason sounds fantastic. Even though I know it's true. Yeah, Van Broekland was that fabulous character the papers were full of after the war. He sold a million dollars worth of fake art to Göring and Co. Stieger recognized him despite the beard. Yeah, this shindig takes the cake for pure, concentrated finagling. Yeah, awful tempting, all that dough. Hey, no angel, just out of curiosity. What would you do if you found a half million bucks? Oh, well, let's see. Well, if it belonged to a poor person, I'd return it. To a poor... Okay, don't explain it. The pain will go away in a few minutes. For the greatest motoring pleasure you've ever enjoyed, let me remind you again of new Chevron Supreme gasoline. For today's high compression engines, you just can't buy a better gasoline. That's because new Chevron Supreme gives your car faster starts. It gives your car faster warm-ups too. New pep in heavy traffic driving. Power to lift your car over the hills with never a ping. And it's a premium quality gasoline that's climate tailored. That means it's specially blended for each different altitude and temperature zone in the West. So wherever you drive, try a tank full of new Chevron Supreme and you'll agree it gets the best out of your car. Get it at independent Chevron gas stations and at standard stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. Next week, when we again catch up with George Valentine, we'll hear an incredulous Bruxy say... Oh, don't be so smug, George. Didn't you hear me? The man wants you to prove he's a murderer. Well, no accounting for taste, Angel. Oh, he must be crazy. Maybe, maybe. Well, no sane person would write a letter like that. Still, he raised a very interesting question. He wants to know if I'm an imbecile. What do you think, Bruxy? Are you gonna take this letter seriously? Then the answer to his question is yes. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Robert Bailey is starred as George with Frances Robinson as Bruxy. Wally Mayer appears as Lieutenant Riley. Let George do it is written by David Victor and Herbert Little Jr. and directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Maria Palmer as Maria, Ted DeCorsia as Van Brooklyn, Leo Clareas Stieger, Ed McDonald as Fowler, Barney Phillips as Nick, and Frank Richards as Batsy. The music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstetter, your announcer, John Heaston. Listen again next week, same time, same station, to let George do it. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.