 Personal notice, dangerous my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Standard Oil Company of California, on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the west, invites you to let George do it. Portrait by Priscilla, another adventure of George Valentine. Is anyone here? Is anyone... Oh, you clumsy ape. You knock over the scrub. Oh, I'm so sorry. I was looking for the proprietor of the art store here. How should I know? Look around yourself. Well, I haven't much time. I'm from... Get your foot off my mouth! Oh, I'm sorry. Bathroom upstairs, after lunch maybe. Look around. Steal a picture. I don't care. Oh, I do a legitimate business with the shop. Supplies, prints, and reproductions in the $1.95 price. My department store interview sells quite a few of those. Oh. Well, I say, is anyone up there? Chinese glass chimes. Would you look at that? Well, it's not bad. Portrait by Pr... Priscilla. Huh? Who's that? Personal notice. Danger is my stock in trade. If the job is... Yes. Dear... Mr. Valentine. But couldn't you see who it was? Couldn't you see who hit you? Well, no, Miss Brooks. It happened so fast. I was struck from behind. I have a terrible lump on my head. All right, Mr. Simpson, I understand that part of it. Whoever it was was probably hiding behind the door. Yes, that's what I thought. What was this, the graftess clay and art shop? Well, they sell mostly art supplies. They're in the Bohemian section of town. But the owner, Ben Graftess, does a mail order business too. That's how I happen to be there. You mean he sends pictures to this department store of yours in Fairview? Yes, just prints, reproductions. It's very modest. But I've always wanted to meet Mr. Graftess. His letters have always been so friendly. When I order pictures, I tell him about the fishing up there, and he answers with gossip about his wife, his car, or his opinions of the art world, quite an authority. I always wanted to know more about art. And so you decided to look him up this time when you came to town? Well, he knew I was coming. He wrote and asked me to. He asked me to meet him for dinner tonight at the Romany restaurant. When I found the moment to spare time, I thought I'd run around to his shop and meet him in advance. That's all I was doing there. But nothing of mine had been stolen. I was carrying a great deal of money too, $500. So you come back to your hotel here and you didn't report it to the police. Where do I fit in all this, Mr. Simpson? Well, I thought Graftess has never actually seen me. I thought perhaps if you went in my place tonight to meet him... Why? Are you suspicious of Graftess? Yes, the first thing I would have done would have been to get in touch with him. Mr. Valentine, I'd written this man from Fairview that I would enjoy some... some hexagonal. I was anxious to meet some of the artists. The unusual types, one hears so much about. Oh, I'm beginning to see. You had yourself set up for a fast night in the big city and now you've got cold feet. Oh, no, no. Though I'll grant you, I'm not exactly the type for it. Well, I don't really know anything about Graftess and suppose he's in trouble of some kind. Would I be of any help? I'm sorry, Mr. Simpson. Listen, listen, I haven't told you about the portrait yet. The what? I was standing looking at this oil portrait. It was on the easel. It's not quite finished yet. No, you did tell us about that. Portrait by Priscilla, whoever that might be. Well, when I came to the portrait, it was gone. It had been taken right off the easel. Well, you finally said so. Mr. Simpson, portrait of what? It was an oil, just the head and shoulders of a man. A gray-haired man, about 50, a bushy eyebrows. I remember a rather sharply cleft chin because his mouth was young, with a mole on the lip. Graftess, that must be him. In his last letter, he said he'd call me up to confirm. Never mind, I'll find out for you. Hello? Hello, Mr. Simpson, it's so nice to hear your voice. All the potatoes and fish and everything up in front of you. Who is this? My fresh. I'm calling for Benny, then Graftess. Oh, yes. The customer just wanted to make sure that eight o'clock is all right. At the Romany. It's a gloomy little place, but you will be there, won't you? You can find it all right. Well, look here, I... My name is Priscilla. Your...? Just Priscilla. Nothing before, nothing after. Oh, how do you do? Yes, yes, yes, of course. Tell Mr. Graftess I'll be there at eight. I am Mr. Simpson. Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Valentine. I thank you, pardon, your honor. Oh, Mr. Simpson. Yes, yes, it's not so easy to find anybody here. It's rather dark. I'm sorry, I should have waited at the bar, but I... Well, I... Hello? Mr. Simpson, this is Mrs.... Priscilla, we've met. Oh, on the telephone. Oh, what's the matter? Haven't you ever shaken hands with a girl that wears black nail polish before? Violent reaction to the name Priscilla, I suppose. Well, it's very attractive, aren't you? Oh, but you're going to be alone, don't worry. Two men in the town. I only stop by for a drink. Priscilla, please. I told you, no, Benny. I have another engagement. And I have to run home and dress. Then drink your drink. Stop fiddling with your watch. Benny! That's a very unusual watch. Oh, isn't it, though? New. It even strikes the arm. See? And it's eight o'clock and much too late. And goodbye, Priscilla. Oh, no, no. Please. Gee, I... I don't get to meet artists every day. I haven't fair view. I mean, well, I've heard of you. You're a portrait artist. I'm not a good painter, Mr. Simpson. But yours, we... Oh, no. Please sit down. Look, this is my night in the city. But you know, Ben here is kind of a surprise. I expected an older man. Gray hair, bushy eyebrows, cleft chin, maybe. Or a mole on your lip. Well, the mystery itself, Benny. Did you steal my painting, Mr. Simpson? No. But who was the old guard, the cleft chin? A very dull painting. A very dull man. Good night, Priscilla. What? Benny. I said good night. You've got a date, haven't you? Hey, no. Wait a minute. Oh, please, Mr. Simpson. A lady can take a hint. It's not false in any way. Bye-bye, save you. What's the matter? Well, it was pretty easy to figure out what had happened upstairs there. A picture missing, blood on the floor, little signs of struggle. There had been somebody up there besides whoever it was that took that picture. But I had no idea that it had been you, Mr. Simpson. I, uh... I hope I didn't mess up your store too much. I rent the upstairs to Priscilla as a studio. Oh? You would have known that if, uh... if you were really Mr. Simpson. I mentioned it in one of my letters. Oh, I see. Well, suppose Mr. Simpson doesn't feel well and asks me to come tonight in his place. Would that be anything for you to be so... so pale about? I'm not pale. Waiter. Now, just take it easy. Look, my name's George Valentine. I've looked you up, Mr. Grafters, and you seem to be okay. Come on, now, what's this all about? I don't quite know. That's the crazy part of it. Maybe it's like she says, not important. Well, okay, Mr. Valentine, or, uh, whoever you are, it's in the budget to entertain a customer from out of town tonight, so let's go. Order a steak. Tell me the story of your life. You in love with this painter, this Priscilla? Mr. Valentine, don't try to solve all the riddles. I've got a wife. She's not very well. I work hard for her. Okay, I'll try again. I said don't try and... Aren't you just as curious as I am what it was all about? Isn't that what you yourself are doing here with Priscilla, trying to find out who might have stolen the picture and why? That is unless you did. No, no, I didn't. I don't know, Mr. Valentine. Priscilla's strange. All that gaudy manner and... well, not really a very good painter. Yes. Yes, I suppose I am a little curious. Okay, then what do you say we skip the steak and try to find some answers? Mr. Stakolsky, we're trying to identify a man in a picture. We haven't had much luck the past hour or two. Any man, any picture, you settle a bet, huh? You're the right place, gentlemen. I understand you're one of the biggest art gallery owners in town. The biggest, 300 pounds. Now, what is the period of the period? It's a portrait, Mr. Stakolsky. A man in a portrait. A portrait by Priscilla. Well, I told Mr. Valentine here that you handled her other pictures for sale. That is some of them. Well, you were in her studio just a couple of days ago. I thought perhaps you'd noticed... What does the man look like, the subject of this portrait? He has gray hair, about 50 bushy eyebrows, cleft chin, a rather young or weak mouth, with a mole on the lip. I am just on the telephone to a man who has been asking about the same person. The subject of this particular portrait by Priscilla is Richard Rattaman. Huh? Oh, I'm just informed that this Mr. Rattaman has blown his brains out. That's right. He's a big shot brokerer and now he's stone cold dead on the market. Lieutenant Devlin, are you sure it's suicide? Of course I'm sure. Every test proves it. What about the picture, the portrait? It's lying on the desk in his study. So maybe he's the one who slugged Simpson. So maybe a lot of things. So maybe there's a lady I'd like to talk to named Priscilla. All right, all right, Devlin. I'll meet you at her place. Only I told you she had a date. Date with whom? What kind of a social secretary are you? You're grafted. She's sure you don't know who her date was with. I'm sorry, Mr. Valentine, but she has an apartment. Valentine is still there. We could wait for her there. We can look around, Devlin. Maybe she keeps a diary. I'll see you there. Valentine, the lady of mystery, huh? Yeah. She'll be keeping her mystery now, won't she, Devlin? If she's dead, she's been strangled. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. You've seen even older cars on the highway that have lots of pep in traffic, that take the hills as if they had lots of reserve power. That's the kind of performance that gives you that new car feeling, but you'll never experience this feeling if engine-sticking gum is robbing your car of its power. Gum, every motorist should know, is formed by the impurities existing in most raw gasoline. And the only way to get it out is to refine it out. Chevron Supreme gasoline is the gasoline that is super refined to eliminate power-robbing gum. So to get and keep that new car feeling, try this premium-quality gasoline. You like your car's new, improved response and the full mileage you get in the kind of driving you do. Ask for super refined Chevron Supreme at independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations where they say and mean, we take better care of your car. Portrait by Priscilla. The man whose portrait it was is now dead. A suicide. Well, of course, if your name is George Valentine, you'd like to have another talk with the artist, Priscilla. Only when you go to her apartment, you find a slight hitch in your plan. Priscilla is dead, too. She's been strangled. Yeah, that's what the doc says. Hurry it up with the pictures, won't you there, boys? How long ago did he say, Lieutenant? Oh, hour, two, hard to tell. Well, it must have been just after she left us in the restaurant. She said she was going to change her clothes and she didn't. Same gold dress. Black fingernail polish. Yeah, the same flash earrings. She jingled when she walked. Yeah, lots of color. But both Stakulski and Grafters said she wasn't a very good painter. The only one who seemed to think differently was Mr. Simpson here. What? Well, I'm really no judge. I come from the small town. I imagine there's some very good critics out there. But I'm certainly not one, isn't it? Well, Valentine, what you're talking about is this apartment itself, Jackie. Yeah. Pretty fancy. Oh, it is indeed. Pretty fancy apartment for an unsuccessful artist. Priscilla must have had a private income. That mysterious date of hers tonight. That's what I'm going to find out. Wait a minute, Devlin. A watch. I noticed it, too, George. It stopped running, hasn't it? It's like all the things it's so unusual. Looks valuable, too, Bruxy. Hey, you mind if I take it, Devlin? Hey, what is this? Why? Why do you want to take it? To get the same answers you're after? Only while you're going your way, me? I'll take a shortcut. Mr. Valentine, you are in general not stupid. But there is nothing wrong with your watch that a little winding will not fix. For this, you should get me from bed, huh? Now. Like so. It will chime for you. Hey, would you please slow down? I want to know the price of the watch. This gaudy old fashion... The way it's fixed, it's really quite fashionable. For a bobble to catch the eye and never tell the right time. Well, that's just it. It is a bobble. But it has stones in it. And a woman wouldn't buy that for herself, would she? But, George, she might. I mean for a woman with money. I say $2,000. I say maybe $2,500. Uh, I take it back. She wouldn't. A gift from an admirer. Well, Angel, I remember Priscilla mentioned the watch was new. So maybe from the current admirer. Maybe the man she had the date with. Who'd sell a thing like this, friend? Only an idiot who would sell gold paddles for canoes and ignoramus who has never seen the ice. Look, Buster, I know it offends your good Swiss taste, but would you please... It is a custom job, monsieur. EW, that is Excelsior Watchers Chicago. You will have to see them, the makers. And may I say, monsieur, have you ever noticed how all the wrong people get strangled? Yourself not accepted? Good night. All right, all right, Valentine. When you got your wire off to Chicago, now you're happy, are you? I still say that in the murder case, you should never overlook the obvious. Like what, Tubman? I rechecked on the times of death, and I found... Oh, you mean you finally figured out that maybe Mr. Radiman killed her and then went home and shot himself. Miss Brooks, I got Mrs. Radiman on the griddle. She admitted she told her husband she was going to leave him because of this Priscilla who'd been painting his portrait. He'd been spending plenty of money on the girl. Well, it was too much for the guy, and later on he pulled out his gun and that's that. If Radiman was Priscilla's one and only, would you have made the crack to me that it was a very dull picture of a very dull man? So tell us what else you've been doing, Devlin. Now listen to me both and wait a minute. Yeah, Lieutenant Devlin. Lieutenant, this is Ben Grafters. Yeah, Grafters. Here, give me that. All right. What is it, Grafters? Valentine, I came back to the shop. It's where my wife picks me up in the car to drive home only... Well, go on, what happened? There's a light still on upstairs in Priscilla's studio. I didn't go in because I... I think there's someone up there. There he goes, Gravitts. Slow down, slow down, my friend. You don't have to break my arm. I'm not doing anything. Oh, no, you're not doing anything, not much. Mr. Stakolsky. Yeah, how do you like this? One of the biggest art dealers in town and we catch him burning a picture. And I'm not saying anything either. I know my rights. Oh, that's a good one. But some of them are his pictures, Mr. Valentine. You be quiet, Ben. I mean he paid her for them several times. I've seen him come up here giving her checks. Puster, it's your turn to shut up. Now look, you're a big shot. You buy nothing but the best. And Priscilla wasn't a very good painter. Now here, let's take a look at this stuff. What have is left of it? Here's one, George, upside down. Yeah, let me see that. Piece of a landscape. Here's another portrait. Hey, wait a minute. I've met this guy, this one. Not very good of him, but he's a paving contractor here in town. He's pretty well-fixed. And this other one over here, I've seen his picture in the newspaper. Big manufacturer. Yeah, Dublin. For a second-rate artist, Priscilla seemed to draw a first-class clientele. Only the noble Stakulski here probably thought the boys had appreciate no publicity. Mr. Valentine, you're making fun of me. Came down here the minute you heard about her death to keep things quiet. Like the prices you paid for her landscapes, they were lousy. Like who these other suckers were in a little black book. Now, wait. When you bought pictures from Priscilla Buster, it was only to hide the fact you were paying blackmail. That's the explanation of where she got her money, Devlin, blackmail. Sure. She was just a good enough painter to get the big boys close enough to work on. They get mixed up with her and set for the frame. Portrait by Priscilla. I didn't say anything. I remind you, I have got up with it. Wait, wait, wait a minute. No, no, no. If that's the case, then any of these guys might have had just as much motive as Raderman. Oh, excuse me, Lieutenant. Go away. Go away. I'm sorry, sir. But the car radio says there's a telegram from Mr. Valentine at the office. It's from Chicago. You can use the phone down the street. Well, guess we better play it my way after all, huh, Devlin? If we keep our fingers crossed, maybe we can chop the field down to size again. Yeah. Yeah, I got it all. Okay, thanks, Sergeant. What was it, Mr. Valentine? Oh, not exactly what I expected, Countess. What do you mean? Well, maybe it wasn't that. Only, uh, we'll have to work fast. Now, look, you said your wife was waiting for you around here someplace. Well, yes. Right out here by the car. Darling. Darling, this is George Valentine. Oh. What do you do? Hello. This is simply awful about poor people. Oh, please excuse me, but we haven't much time, and I think it'd be safer if your wife came back upstairs to Priscilla's studio with us. Well, sure. Whatever you say. Is everybody gone? Outside, that's part of it. Uh, here, Mrs. Graff, to sit down, won't you? What? Oh, thank you, but I don't understand. Well, it's really pretty simple. I need your help, both of you. You see, the doctor says that Priscilla couldn't have been strangled by a woman. What? And, of course, Ben here was right with me all evening. So, uh, you're the only ones I can turn to. Now, listen. That phone call I made was about a telegram to Chicago, an outfit that makes custom watches. Only the trouble was they said the watches were sent to Mr. Zimmy Zimmerman, care of general delivery this city. Well, wait a minute. You mean you were thinking about that watch of Priscilla's, the funny one that she had on? Yeah, yeah. I was hoping they could tell me who bought it. Only Zimmy Zimmerman. Now, that's a phony, pretty obviously. Oh, I see. Benny, what's the matter? Nothing, nothing, darling. I just... Mr. Graff, you would help clear the air a lot if you'd admit that you gave Priscilla that watch. What? Mr. Valentine, I think you've got a lot of nerve. Well, wait a minute. There isn't time now. Listen. Yeah, they're right out there now. Mr. Valentine, really? You want to know what Devlin and the others are doing out there? They're searching your car, Graff. Searching my car? Well, something might catch their eye. It's funny how things catch your eye, especially in a dim place like the Romany. You said Lieutenant Devlin is outside looking into my... They won't find any of the flashy things, will they? Gold dress, big earrings, the jingle. Might find some polish remover, though, for the black nail polish. Valentine, you... Now you don't, Foster, you're not big enough. That telegram said watches, plural. But I'd already begun to guess before then. No. Guess that Priscilla wasn't really so exceptionally good-looking or anything else if you took your eyes away from all the trappings, the exotic touches, the eye catches. But who could do that? Please, no. When I saw her, the real Priscilla, especially after the way she was killed, how could I tell the difference? Hey, what's the matter with your purse, sister? Give me that. Let go! Darling, the little wife got rid of the other stuff for the masquerade, but couldn't resist hanging on to the expensive watch, could she? Yeah, sure. Here it is. The other watch graft is exactly like the one you gave Priscilla. I gave her. The straw that was to break the camel's back when it came to my identifying her body. Only it's the straw that broke your back instead, Buster. Broke your perfect alibi. Vinny! Then he's stopping me! You've got to stop him! Shut up! Hold it! Because you killed Priscilla, didn't you, Benny? Killed her and right afterwards brought your wife around to meet me and start setting up your perfect alibi at the Romani. What are you talking about, Valentine? Look what I'm doing. I'm nervously fiddling with a watch. It's exactly what you did in the restaurant, Mrs. Graftus, to call attention to it so I'd remember. Only when you fiddled with a watch you whined at, don't you? Sure, you did, like this, remember? But only a few minutes later, Priscilla's watch had run down. It stopped. So? So? I suspected two watches. You're pretty smart, Mr. Valentine. Don't. No, Benny, don't! Our car doesn't have anything in it. But this is a gun you're looking at, sucker! No! Who's the sucker? Thanks, Devlin. You know the thing that still keeps bothering me is this poor Ratamin fellow? Oh, that was just coincidence, Mr. Stimpson. His messing around, feeling sorry for himself and the picture being stolen. But it might have been blamed entirely on him. I know. That would have been lucky for the Graftuses. There were a lot of men mixed up with the real Priscilla, Mr. Stimpson, and any one of them could have been suspected. But wasn't Ben Grafters mixed up with her himself? No. No, he just wanted to move in on her blackmail. Up in the hospital, he admitted he'd already swiped a little black book, the note she had on the boys. So, since his wife was the same general type as Priscilla, they dreamed up what they thought was a perfect way of getting rid of her and taking over. And inviting me, a man who'd never met them, inviting me to dinner here was part of their plan. Mm-hmm. You would have been the alibi from Fairfield. Yes, here at the Romany. By, it's a dark, mysterious place, isn't it? Oh, there's nothing wrong with it. I like a word stuck. People can't see you when you... Oh, thank you. Yes, darling. When you take your shoes off. Oh, I feel so good. Oh, George. You probably don't know one single motorist who would deliberately drive with a choke out all day for the simple reason that it would be like throwing gasoline away. But if you listen to the car savers at independent chevron gas stations and standard stations, they'll tell you this. All too many motorists let the air cleaner under the hood so dirt clog that it can waste just as much gas as a pulled-out choke. Even worse, a dirty air cleaner can mean that some road grit and dust is mixing with the gasoline. And that, of course, is a serious threat to the precision-fitted parts in your car's engine. So to avoid waste of gasoline and possible damage to engine parts, why not have the air cleaner looked at tomorrow? If it calls for a cleaning, that could be done fast at a little cost. It's another car saver service offered to you by independent chevron gas stations and standard stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Robert Bailey is starred as George with Virginia Greg as Brooksy. George Doed is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and directed by Don Clark. Pat McGeehan was heard as Lieutenant Devlin. Bob Griffin as Simpson. Lorraine Tuttle as Priscilla. Donald Buca as Graftus. Harold Durenforth as Stokolsky and Ralph Saddam as the expert. The music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstetter, your announcer, John Heaston. Listen again next week, same time, same station to Let George Doed. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.