 Hello, Yukon 208209. Yes, this is Candy Mattson. How's the one-woman Scotland yard? Okay, Inspector. If business was any better, you fellows could all retire on your big fat vengeance. Is Mallard at his office? Oh, sure. I just left him there. He's working on a deal, but it's all right. A deal? Oh, I won't bother him then. That's all right. When last observed, he was perch neatly on the horns of a dilemma. Ouch. Well, in that case, I'd better go in, Inspector. Right, oh, drop around any time. High heel sounds so much nicer than flat feet. Thank you, sir. Good morning, Lieutenant Mallard. Candy. For Pete's sake, I wish you'd knock when you'd come in here. Why? Well, I might have been, uh... What, Mallard, dear? A sleep or something. Well, how about you go in and pull up a chair and set a spell? I heard you were busy. You heard I was busy, so you barge right in? I can always barge right out again, you know. No, no, no. Stick around. I've done all I can for now. What have you got, a murder? In homicide, I'd be working on a purse snatching. Here, take a look. Ever see anything like that before? Nope. Looks like a small medallion of some kind. I don't think so. Here's what I can figure. It's the symbol of an order or a cult. Do you recognize the characters on it? They seem to have an Egyptian flavor. That was my thinking, too. However, I'm not an Egyptologist. You can always take it over to the University of California. University of California? What's wrong with that? It'd be like cutting off my own nose. I've got Stanford and six points in the big game. After what you CLA did to them? Oh, no, sir. From now on, I will knock before I come in here. And if I get an answer, I'm going to leave. You've got a point there. I know I have. I mean, about taking this over to the University. Hey, wait a minute. Why didn't I think of it before? What? Rembrandt. He has a brushing acquaintance with the Egyptian language and writing. Rembrandt? Rembrandt Watson? Oh, you're kidding. No, I'm not. He spent quite a bit of time in Egypt before the war. Come on, get in the car and we'll drive over to his place. I've got to see him anyway. I'm sorry, Canny. No can do. I've got to be in Judge Wallach's court in 10 minutes. Well, let me have it and I'll take it over to him. If Rembrandt comes up with anything, I'll report right back. OK, just don't lose it. That's all. Why? Can't you get another one? Well, not this particular one. We can't. We took it off the body of a woman they found floating last night in the Stowe Lake. Stowe Lake in Golden Gate Park? Mm-hmm. What a charming place to take your last bath. Oh, I almost forgot what I came here for to begin with. Here's the book I borrowed from you, Mallard, dear. Book? Which book is that? Latest facts and figures on the rise and fall of crime throughout the Western Hemisphere, plus a comprehensive digest on criminal trends in the United States as compiled by police departments of major cities throughout the country. Oh, thanks. Did you get anything out of it? The book? Heck, no. I just barely managed to get through the title. The National Broadcasting Company presents Candy Matson, Yukon 2-8209. I slipped the medallion into my coin purse, slipped the coin purse into my handbag, slipped Mallard a peck on the cheek, and slipped out of the Hall of Justice. I climbed into my car and drove over to California Street opposite old St. Mary's Cathedral, almost bordering Little Alley facing St. Mary's Square. It is there that a very old friend of mine lives, Rembrandt Watson, the eminent Pacifico's photographer. I'm so glad you came by, Del. Today of all days I need the firm stanchion of your friendship upon which to brace myself. Rembrandt, what on earth are you talking about? Never. As the weight of gloom rested so heavily on me shoulders, never has the mantle of depression hung on my head as it does now. Oh, put the hand back in the icebox. What gives here, Ducky? You are gazing upon a man about to be bereft of a home. You mean you're being evicted? Not yet. One must face eventualities. Can't you pay your rent? Is that it? Oh, no, be silly, Candy. I have plenty of money. Well, then in Heaven's name, why the Hamlet Routine? What do you mean you're going to be evicted? Well, simply this, girl. A bunch of uncoothed violets are going to build an underground garage in the square next door. Oh. May I ask, what is so funny? Well, you probably won't have to move. Chances are they'll never touch this building. Well, think, Candy, the dirt, the noise. Well, I've never known either one to affect you before, Rembrandt. It's not me self I'm thinking about. It's Henry, my great Dane. All those steam shovels and riveting machines that have to give Henry a nervous stomach. And on a great Dane, that's something. Yes, isn't it? And here's something that'll prove I'll be evicted. Look, this morning's paper. Right down here. A preliminary tooth instruction of a garage beneath St. Mary's Square was approved yesterday by the Board of Supervisors Finance Committee. The project, recommended by the San Francisco Authority, involves use of St. Mary's Park subsurface area and seven adjacent parcels of privately-owned property in the area bounded by Carney, Pine, California, and St. Anne's Street. There. Do you see what I mean? Well, I hardly call this hovel of a parcel, but yes, I do see what you mean. Well, what are you going to do about it? What can I do about it? Look for a new place to live, that's all. Gladdy, boy. I'm glad you said that. I've been meaning to have a word with you for quite some time. Now, you're doing a whale of a good business. More and more, you're catering to an extremely fashionable clientele. That's true. It's about time you lived the part. Your photographs are becoming known throughout the country. You couldn't have stayed here much longer anyway. But it has such atmosphere, Candy. That it does, especially when the wind's from the east. Tell you what, you help me on a little deal right now, and I'll spend the rest of the day looking at places with you. Oh, Candy, will you? I was hoping you'd say that. You're a lamb. In the spring, I am. Oh, I get it. Spring lamb. Yes. Spring lamb. I feel ever so much better already. Attaboy. But before you bound completely out of your skin, ducky, take a look at this. Wait a minute. There. Hmm. Fascinating. What is it? An amulet of some kind? I don't know. That's why I came to see you. What does it say on there? It's in Arabic. Hopefully, fine print. What did I do with my glasses? On your forehead. Oh. El mani. El hada. El mastakbal. Hmm. It's one I can't seem to translate. Wait a minute. Oh, of course. Milky. What does it mean, Rembrandt? Well, I'm not exactly sure of my translation, but I take it to read the past, the present, the future, our mind. That sounds good enough to me. Let me make a phone call, dear, and I'll be right with you. Tell me, ducky, does that expression mean anything to you? Have you ever heard it before? No. There are literally thousands of such sayings in Arabic. You could refer to almost anything. That's what I was wondering about. Headquarter is Daluchi speaking. Oh, hello, Daluchi. This is Candy Mattson. Is Lieutenant Mallard there? Lieutenant Mallard, no, Miss Mattson. He left with Judge Wallach and the jury on that happy dance supermarket killing. How did Lake Merced? Probably be there the rest of the afternoon. Oh. Okay. Would you write this down for me? El Magi, El Haider, El Mostakval, who milky. Miss Mattson, this is a phone conversation. It's legit. Well, in that case, get some tight. Thank you. Now, have you got that? I guess so. Good. Just sign my name to it and put it on Mallard's desk, will you? Sure, you say so. Thanks, Daluchi. Goodbye. Candy, are you crazy? Mallard won't understand that. Crazy? Just the other way around. This is one night I know I'm going to get Mallard to call me. Candy, you fool, but you're a nice fool. Just having you assure me that moving from here is the right thing to do has removed all me trouble thoughts. Transform me into a blight spirit. A blight spirit? Well, come on, blight spirit. Let's go haunt for houses. Knowing Rembrandt as I do, he's the sort of a man who would open a doll factory across the street from a boy's school. But in this case I was going to make sure he'd get the locale to the business and vice versa. But what was the locale to be? Suddenly I had it. There was a barn type of building out on Octavia Street just off Pacific. It used to be a dance studio, but somehow or other I seemed to recall a for rent sign on the place. And that's where we went. What is it, Candy? Looks like the place might have been stable. Oh, I imagine it was at one time. I do know it was a dance studio for a while. It's for rent, all right. There's the sign. I hope we can get in. You'll like it, I'm sure. It's just ideal for a photography studio. And it has plenty of room upstairs for living quarters and a fine big backyard out and back for Henry. Sounds ideal. If I could only see it. Let's walk around on that little wooden bridge at the side. Maybe there's a window we can peek through. If not, we'll run down to the real estate office. You see. The outside needs fixing up, but not too much. No, as a matter of fact, if the place is any kind of shape at all and the owner is willing to call the business, I might be interested in buying the place. What? Why not? Now that I'm in mood and I've saved a fair amount of money the past year or two. Oh, here's a window. Pretty dirty. Wait a minute. Can you see anything, Candy? Well, a little. Enough to give you an idea of how much space you have in the studio itself. Here, take a look. Oh, it's wonderful. Just perfect. I could do all the portrait work up in front there and put all the equipment back in the... Ducky, what is it? I saw a man in there. Let's see. He's motioning to us. I don't understand, but... is there a door down that way, Rembrandt? Wait, let's take a look. Yes, I'll see one. Oh, that's what he wants. Come on. I suppose he is, dear. A caretaker, maybe. We'll find out. Was there something you wanted? We're just looking around. We saw the sign out in front. Are you the caretaker? No, no. I am the owner. Oh, then you live here? Again, no. There was a fire here last night. I came over to investigate. A fire? Yes. There wasn't much damage done. One of the neighbors saw it and the fire department arrived almost immediately. Lucky for you. How much rent are you asking? I'm afraid you'll have to take that up with the real estate people. I let them handle all my transactions. Would you be willing to sell? I might, but that's something you have to discuss with them, too. That sounds odd, does it not? But much better off if I don't transact my own business. Sure. Would you mind if we looked around? Mr. Watson here is rather interested. I'm afraid that is out of the question. You'll see the electricity have been turned off. You would have to use matches. We'll be very careful, sir. I've got matches right here in my purse. No, no, no. It is impossible. After what happened last night, I'm afraid things might be misunderstood. I should be accused of... Accused? Accused of what, Mr.... And what did you say your name was? I didn't, and neither did you. We have a quaint custom here in the United States. I am not interested in custom. I'm only interested in keeping my appointment. You'll keep your appointment, I assure you. Do you remember High, Low, Rembrandt? Oh, yes. A quaint little device used with a great deal of success on the gridiron. Yes. Would you like to take High, and I'll take Low? The pleasure, really, now. Get his arms, if you can, Rembrandt. I'm trying to fake this like an e-hole. I think he needs a little persuasion on the head like so. Oh, dear. I hope you didn't tap him too hard. No, he just went seepe-by for a little while. May I ask the reason for this unwomanly outburst on your part, Dow? You certainly may, slugger. Look, up there on that beam above us. Oh, dear, where are my glasses? Back up on your foot. Oh, now, what did you want me to see? Up there, a sign on that beam. Just barely visible, but you can make it out. I mean, no. El Madi, El Hada, El Mastafal, Hume, Milky. Sure. I saw it when we first came in. When the boy on the floor mentioned matches, it gave me a perfectly natural chance to open my purse and flash the medallion. He saw it all right. He stopped like he'd been sapped. He was? Twice, yes. Once by the medallion, once by me. I think we've got something, Rembrandt. Come on, let's get to a phone call, Mallard, quick. And may I say something, Duckie? You certainly do. Well, I shouldn't say it, but that was the prettiest high-low I've ever seen. From San Francisco, the National Broadcasting Company is presenting Candy Mattson, Yukon 2-8209. I left my gun with Rembrandt, who by this time was sitting on our little friend. I took off, found a grocery store about three blocks down and placed a call to Mallard. Fortunately, he was in, and after I told him what was happening, he was out again, this time headed for the former dance studio. I ran back to the place, and Sleeping Beauty was showing signs of coming too, with Rembrandt still riding a choppy sea on the guy's twisting chest. I'm so glad you're back, girl. My stage is beginning to buck a bit, and I did so want to avoid smacking him on the noggin again. Yeah, I don't blame you after a while it begins to hurt. Here, give me the gun, Rembrandt. Thanks. I'll be back. If the Joker tries anything, there's going to be badminton with bullets for birds. You get Mallard? Yes, he'll be here in a moment or two. In the Hall of Justice, that'll be forever. You don't know Mallard when he has a chance to play with that siren. Yeah, Testament snapping out of it. I think, Miss, you will regret exceedingly what you have done. Maybe so, maybe no. Now, uh, care to tell us about this past, present, and future, our mind stuff? I'm not saying a word. Does it surprise you I know the translation? You might as well tell us. You'll have to in the long run. I have nothing to say. And I mean that. I'll bet you do. Wait a minute. See who it is, Rembrandt. It's Mallard in his platoon system. Good. Open the door for them. This is cozy. All you need is a fourth for bridge. And I kibbit. He's all yours, foot flat. Okay, get him, boys, let's go. Hey, wait a minute. You haven't seen the building. The building can wait. This cookie's hot, and I want to keep it that way. Like I said, boys, take him away. Give him that big hall of justice. One, two, three, O'Leary, and we were at the jail house on Washington Street. Four, five, six, O'Leary, and our lad was whisked away into the inner sanctums for a pleasant little game called Information, please. Seven, eight, nine, O'Leary, and Mallard was back in his office, snorting fire at me. And when he snorts fire, Sister Susie, it's frightening. What are you trying to do? Have the whole city administration down on my neck? What Mallard, what do you mean? I'll tell you what I mean. We've arrested a man who's completely in the clear. He can shoot the works at us. Sue is for false arrest. Wait a minute. Something's off the beam here. What's his name? Testament, Al Testament. How do you know he's in the clear? Because we checked just now. He's been a respectable citizen of San Francisco for over 20 years, owns a lot of real estate around town, fine reputation, excellent credit, the works, and you have to stir up a hornet's nest. I don't know what to say. I do. Go home and stay there. I have a hunch the guy's going to press an assault and battery charge against you and Rembrandt. And he's got a real legal right to do it, too. Yipes. I wonder how I'll look in stripes. Mallard was just plain out and out sore. Judging the mess on its face value, he was entitled to be sore. But I'm not the gal to take things on face value. That sign on the beam out of the old studio definitely had a link with the inscription on the amulet. I was sure of it. And I was sure that Testman was a link, too. So I fell back on the private eye's first lesson, how to shadow a suspect. The use of doorways, trees, buildings, shrubs, fences, and et cetera. So hiding behind an et cetera, I waited outside the Hall of Justice until I saw Testman leave the building. All he did was snag a cab and disappear into an apartment house on the top of Clay Street. I checked the ground floor and found there were only three outlets, the main entrance, the service entrance alongside and the garage around the corner. I parked across the street where I could see all three and waited. And waited. About 2 a.m. I figured Testman had holed up for the night, so I went home and got myself a nice little jolt. My penthouse was a mess. It looked like a senior grade monsoon had ripped through the place. It stacked up that Testman couldn't have done it, so there must be somebody else who wanted in on the act. As far as I could tell, nothing was missing, so I straightened up as best I could and hit the sack. The alarm went off at 5 o'clock the next morning, and I struggled into my clothes, drove over to Rembrandt's place, rustled him into my car, and we took off. Your man can be positively mad. What's the idea of waking me up in the middle of the night? It's not the middle of the night, Ducky. It's morning. Remember the early birds get the worms. For the change, I'd like to see the early worm get the bird. What are we doing gallivanting about like this? We're putting the shadow on Testman. Is he the worm? One of them. In spite of the fact that Mallard White washed him. Here we are. How lush. The Blake Essex. We'll just park here. Hunch down in your seat, Ducky. I hardly imagine our worm has departed yet. A half hour passed by. Just as the sun peeked over the East Bay Hills and scattered its own bright rays on the water of the bay, a car backed out of the Blake Essex garage. It was Testman all right. He wheeled the car down Clay Street, and we followed. He turned left on Taylor, and again when he reached Pacific. I had a hunch where he was going. He crossed Van Ness Avenue when we did likewise. That was when Rembrandt spoke up. I hate to mention it, dear, but I think the shadowers are being shadowed. But how do you mean? I look behind several times. There seems to be a car following us. Just a coincidence. I wouldn't worry about it. Look, our boy's turning off under Octavia. Just as I thought he's returning to the studio. What do we do now? Go as slowly as we can. Give him time to park the car, get inside the building, and then go in after him. Are you sure you know what you're doing, Gandhi? Nope. Oh, well, then it's all right. We'll go past Octavia to Laguna and down to Broadway and come back in that direction. That should do it. Now to double back along Broadway. I dislike being repetitious, girl, but the car's still following us. Well, there's nothing like a showdown. Here we are at Octavia. Let's find out. Look, we crossed the street at the studio. Out in front there. Bags of cement, sand, and a pile of bricks. That wasn't there when we left yesterday. No. There's our friend, Gandhi, if he is. Well, I'm going to find out about this right now. Please, Miss Mattson, remain seated in your car. Is it gone, Candy? That's a naive observation, Rembrandt. Looks more to me like a cannon. I assure you, I won't hesitate using it. Now, if you and Mr. Watson will get out in an orderly manner and walk across the street into the studio, there will be no trouble. Looks like we have no choice. Come on, Ducky, this should be great sport. When you have a gun that size poking into your nose, it's easy to be convinced. We walked across the street and into the studio. Even with a brilliant morning sunshine outside, the place was dark and grim. And Tessman Ladd was waiting to meet us, wearing the very latest in smirks. Just as you planned, master. It was so easy. They fell into our trap beautifully. And now they shall feel no pain. To work, Tessman, there can be no further delay. Yes, master. He calls me master. And that is as it should be. Now, Miss Mattson, now that you've so conveniently returned to our shrine, the amulet, please. I haven't got it. I left it at home in another purse. It wasn't in your place last night. So you're the character who wrecked my apartment. That is right. And now, if you will be so kind as to empty your purse on the table there. You better do it, Candy. Yes. There seems to be no alternative. Now the coin purse, please. Ah, yes, the amulet. Thank you. You're welcome too. You can have that if you want. The past, the present, the future are mine. Mine, Miss Mattson. An old saying of one of the ancient pharaohs. I adopted it for myself. Rather brilliant, wouldn't you say? I'd say you need a new scriptwriter. Now I shall tell you about your future. This building, being on a hill, was built on solid rock foundations. My faithful servant, Tessman, is an expert stone mason. You see that chamber like a fair hewn into the rock? Tessman is going to build a brick wall across it. You're going to be sealed inside, also like the ancient pharaohs. Only it will take more than a Howard Carter or a Lord Carnivan to discover you. The guy was a madman, and a madman usually keeps his word. Tessman went to work. Little by little, the sealing wall of bricks took shape. Once I pressed my hand against the bricks, they must have been using a fast-hardening mortar mix of some kind. The wall was as firm as the edges. Zoma smiled. Finally, there was an opening just large enough to crawl through. That's when Zoma spoke up. Enough, Tessman. I will complete the work. As you will, master. My mission here is finished. You three are the only ones who know about me. And so I shall destroy all evidence and move on to newer fields. Tessman, in you go. What? Master, no. No. I have served you festively. I said get in. No. I won't die. I won't. Not even for you. What a fool. The future belongs to me. You two, get him. What? shove him into the tomb. I trust you won't be quite so idiotic. Suffocation isn't too unbearable. I think I shall call this the tomb of the wayward three. Yes. That will be good. Is he in? Yes. Very well. You may follow. Go ahead, Rembrandt. I'm sorry I got you into this. It's all right. And now for the fine act. The complete obliteration. Ah, yes. People all over the world have lost their way. They struggle in darkness. It is up to me to bring them the truth. For after all, El Hadi, El Harder, El Mostakbal Humildi, all mine. What about that woman you dumped into stone late, Jomar? A very generous lady. She contributed over $15,000 to the cause. But then the poor thing began to doubt me. Said something about going to the authorities. Most unfortunate. It was then that even I, Zoma, made a mistake. I forgot about the amulet I had given her. She was still wearing it about her neck. I will not make that error again. Now, like the final toast to life. The last brick. Sleep well, foolish ones. Forever. Get your hands straight up in the air, Mac. You desecrator. Listen, get your hands up. Yes, I will, like this. Where are you? Over here, Mallard. Behind this brick wall. Fine thing. That's all I've got to say. Running around and messing things up. Boy, he's really got you tucked away, hasn't he? Come on, Mallard. Get us out of here. We can hardly breathe. We? Rembrandt and I. Oh, no. You're Pal Tessmon, who's past breathing. Boy, you can sure do it, can't you, Catty? I think I ought to leave you in there. You almost messed this whole thing up. I did? How? Why did you think we released Tessmon? Tessmon. Yeah, I know. Ali Tessmon. I'll call him Tessmon. Because it was the first lead we got on this Joker Zoma. We've been after him for months. Why? Playing on the superstitious people with a yen for the occult. We had nothing to go on until we fished that woman out of Stowe Lake with the amulet around her neck. And you have to go and stick your pretty nose into the picture. What about Tessmon? Up until he met Zoma, he was okay. Doing quite well in real estate. Then along came the master. Tessmon turned over the studio for Zoma to use as a temple. But after he dumped the tomato into Stowe Lake, Zoma realized he'd have to liquidate his affairs and get the bejavers to other parts of the country. With you and Rembrandt making like cops and robbers, he knew he had three people to get out of the way. He almost got away with it. But how did you get here when you did? Sheer luck, Cupcake. I was only returning to make a routine checkup on this joint. Sister, are you lucky? You can say that again. Alright, sister, are you? On second thought, maybe you aren't. What do you mean, my dear? If there's one thing I can't stand, it's an interfering woman. I think I'll just leave you in there. No, no. Irene, good night. Irene, good night. Not if you can't do this. Irene, get us out of here. Okay, on one condition. Sure, sure, what is it? Promise you'll go to a Roy A'Cuff movie with me tonight. Roy A'Cuff movie? What do you think, Rembrandt? A fate worse than death. That's what I thought, too. So long, Mallard. On your way out just sealing that last brick, will you? Listen again next week at this same time. For excitement and adventure, just dial. Candy Matson, Yukon 2-8-2-0-9. The part of Tasman was played by John Grober. Zoma was Lou Tobin. Henry Leff is heard as Lieutenant Ray Mallard and Jack Thomas is Rembrandt Watson. The program stars Natalie Masters and is written and directed by Mottie Masters. Bill Brownell creates the sound effects and Eloise Rowan is heard at the organ. Our engineer was Frank Barron. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental. The characters in the story were entirely fictitious. The program came to you from San Francisco. Dudley Manlove speaking. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.