 And now stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. The Signo Oil program, The Whistler. Signo, a famous go-father gasoline. Invite you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. I am 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. And now for the Signo Oil company, The Whistler's strange story. Trademark. The car speeding up the rain-swept mountain road rounded a final curve, men swung in sharply until its headlights pierced through the night to pick up the cabin set well back from the road. As the car skidded to a stop in front of the cabin, the woman at the wheel leaped out and ran for the shelter of the veranda. There she paused only a moment to catch her breath before pounding heavily on the door. Cecile! Open up! You're going to talk to me! Cecile! Oh, Cecile. Hello, Marge. You've got to talk to me. You've got to listen. I don't have to, but I suppose I shall. All right, come inside. Sit down, if you wish. No, I'd rather stand. Cecile, you've got to understand about that money from the firm. I believe I understand only too well, Marge. You've embezzled us. Cecile, I've been very important to your organization up until now. Up until now, you certainly have. Your ideas for merchandising and promoting cosmetics by Cecile have been superb, Marge. Simply superb. Then... Your inventiveness, development of perfumes, lipsticks... Excellent. I'm sure this new lipstick you've worked out will prove a smashing success. I'm real innovation. However, you've also been stealing us blind. Please, Cecile. Sorry. I'm going to discuss the whole thing with Jason in the morning. But if you do that... If I do that, you're through. Yes. He's the backer, the money banks. Well, I'd be a confederate, a fellow conspirator if I failed to tell him of your indiscretion with company funds. You've always hated me, haven't you? Because you've always hated being just a figurehead. I named cosmetics by Cecile. My idea is to put you on top and now it's crowded there. A little? Yes. They can probably accommodate you at the inn in the village, Marge. I can't permit you to stay here. So that's the way it's going to be. I'm being kind. You could go to prison. I'll try to talk Jason out of that. Good night, Martha. Walking out of the cabin, you want a whirl and terror to bits, don't you, Martha? Yes. But you don't. You know when you've been defeated. And you know too as you drive back toward the inn at the village that you might as well forget. You might as well drive on back to Los Angeles in your apartment. But somehow you want to think it through. And you decide to stay on the scene. Besides there's the storm, the rain. And the inn looks warm and inviting as you run your car into the shed garage. Pick up your overnight bag and go inside. The desk clerk is friendly and they do have a room. 207, Miss Collins. Just signed here. Thank you. I'm sorry, the room was at the back of the building. Overlooks the alleyway. It's all right. The trip was unexpected. So you have a bar. Oh, yes. And still open. Well, I'm cold from the drive. I think I'll have a nightgown. Go right in, Miss Collins. I'll have the boy take your bags up to the room. You just take your time. Thank you. Bye. All right. Your mood is far from the cheerful one of the desk clerk, isn't it, Martha? But as you enter the bar, you catch sight of someone you know. Yes. Old Sam, the caretaker of Cecile's cabin. As you move across the bar and come closer to Sam. You realize that he's had more than enough drinks. And he's saying some very interesting things. No, I'm telling you, Mac. I mean it. I mean every word. If I had the chance, I'd kill that Cecile woman. I'd ring her scrawny neck. All right, Sam. All right. You better hit the road now. Get home and sleep it off. No, no. I want another drink. Oh, no. Sorry, Sam. The bar is closed. As far as you're concerned. Okay, Mac. This time I'll show my face in here. Yeah, yeah. Oh, I'm sorry, baby. Sorry. What did you have? What? Oh, never mind. I guess I don't want a drink after all. No, Martha. You don't want a drink after all. Because you want your head clear, perfectly clear. Because of the plan that's half formed in your mind. The inspired idea that suddenly places the key to everything right in your hands. Yes. You may still not have to be counted out after all. First step, Martha. The clerk again. Sorry to bother you, but my room isn't ready now. Why, yes, Miss Collins, but I thought you were going to have a nightcap. You said... I know, but I don't feel very well. Must have been the driver. I don't feel well at all. Oh, yeah. Let me help you, Miss Collins. Well, I'll help you upstairs. Thank you. Thank you very much. He helps you to your room, doesn't he, Martha? Very concerned. And then he calls the maid. Has her stay with you as you get ready to go to bed. And then to make it all just right. Uh, maid? Yes, sir. Could you tell me, would it be too much trouble for them to bring me some hot broth? Or a toddy or something? Oh, not at all, Miss. I'll tend to it myself right away. Mr. Hinsall's very worried about you. You watch her go, Martha. Smile to yourself. And then ask the obliging woman to sit with you as you drink the warm broth she brings. Then you're ready for the next step. Oh, so much better. I think I can sleep comfortably now. Of course you can, and you won't be disturbed, ma'am. Mr. Hinsall was so sorry he had to give you a back room, but I think they're much quieter. No, I don't mind, but you will remind him I don't want to be disturbed. No, you just leave it to me, ma'am. And if there's a thing you want, just anything at all, will you just call a desk? I will, yes. Thank you. Good night, ma'am. Sleep comfortable. You've arranged your alibi, haven't you, Martha? You watch the maid go, then throw back the covers, quickly put on your clothes and move quietly out into the hall. You slip down the stairs, set the lock in the back door so you can re-enter. Then hurry to your car and drive quickly through the storm to Cecil's cabin. Only this time you go first to the little shack where the caretaker lives. You find the door opened, an old Sam lying across his rumpled bed still fully dressed but quite sound asleep, snoring loudly. It's the deep, stupor-like sleep of the intoxicated. And then you congratulate yourself on a real stroke of fortune, a rifle, Martha. Mounted on pegs on the wall. Quickly you take a pair of gloves from your coat pocket, put them on, and you take the gun down, slip a cartridge into the chamber, step past old Sam and hurry to the cabin a hundred yards away. It's a long chance, Martha, but luck has been with you so far. You hesitate, summoning your nerve for what's ahead. You light a cigarette, move on to the veranda. Yes, yes. You freeze at the sound of Cecil's voice. Stand terror-stricken as you realize who she is talking to. All right, Jason. I'll be expecting you. Ten o'clock sharp. You breathe a sigh of relief, realizing that Jason Weatherby is not with Cecil, but only talking to her on the telephone. You find yourself praying that she doesn't say anything about you. Then... I have something to tell you, Jason, about Martha Collins. Something surprising. We'll talk about it tomorrow. Goodbye. You lift the rifle, lay it on the seal of the open French window, get the slight sound Cecil turns quickly. Who's there? Goodbye, Cecil. Martha! I suppose we could say you counted me out too soon. The silence tells you that old Sam slept through the sound of the shot just as you expected. You climb through the French window, enter the room, an electric clock gives you another idea, and you unplug the cord and put the clock into Cecil's limp hand. That's all for her, isn't it? And you've completed all but the very final steps, haven't you, Martha? Yes. Hurrying back to old Sam's shack, you're thankful for the rain which washes out your footprints almost as they're made. It'll do the same for your car, won't it? And if you place the rifle near old Sam, you're certain that you've built a perfect case against him. Just one more step now, Martha. Back at the inn and luck is still with you. You're certain no one saw you leave or return. You're sure your alibi is perfect. And a few minutes after you're again in your room, you clinch it with a phone call to the desk clerk. The desk clerk? Hello, Mr. Henson? Yes, Miss Collins. I'm sorry to bother you. My room, it's so cold. I'd been sleeping soundly. I woke up just freezing. We can send up an electric blanket for you, Miss Collins. Oh, that would be fine if it's not too much trouble. No trouble at all, Miss. We want everything to be just right for you. I'm sure you do. And will you all help me? Much more than you know. Fanfare, you expect an announcement. Something new, something important. Well, tonight's signal announced. Well, tonight's signal announces something excitingly new, something of major importance to every car owner. Motor oil, so completely different, so vastly improved. It actually reduces by 50% engine wear due to lubrication. New signal premium motor oil. It's true. New signal premium motor oil is the result of years of research involving new scientific techniques never before available to the petroleum industry. Scientific techniques which are actually able to measure at the very instant it happens exactly how much wear takes place under every different driving condition and at all rates of speed. Then engineers set out to develop new compounds, new lubricating qualities to reduce wear under not just one, not just two, but under all driving conditions and speeds. Now this amazing new product is ready for you at Signal Service Stations. The new signal motor oil that reduces by 50% engine wear due to lubrication. New signal premium motor oil. Well, Marta, it's all falling into place, hasn't it? From the moment when Cecile Dumas thought that she would ruin you reporting your thefts to the head of the cosmetics firm until now when Cecile lies dead in her cabin, a victim of a shot from her caretaker's hunting rifle. You've managed it all with a perfect alibi setup, every sort of proof that you weren't out of your hotel room. And old Sam Cecile's caretaker was overheard making threatening reports to the hotel barkeeper. It's going to be a perfect case against him, isn't it? Now all you must do is complete the bluff, Marta. The next day is sunny and you begin the morning by hurrying down to the village train depot, waiting for Jason Weatherby's train to come chugging into view. Oh, Jayce, over here! Well, Marta, my girl, how are you? I'm just fine, Jayce, and you? Oh, not too lively. The train always hires me out, you know. Nice of you to come down and meet me. You needn't have bothered. What's the long wait as a Ceil's cabin? Come along, my car's right over there. Right. Hey, Marta. Uh-huh? Tell me, what's this all about? Do you know? I mean, Cecile, what's on her mind? You don't know? Haven't been able to pry a thing out of her. I was talking to her last night. Oh? She said it was something important. We had to get together right away. You know, don't you, Marta? Uh-huh. It's a secret. Uh, how long have you known this secret? Oh, for days and days. I've never known any woman who could keep a secret more than 12 hours. Oh, you. Come on, let's go straight up to Cecile's cabin. She doesn't answer. Suppose she's still asleep? Well, could be. You know how Cecile loves to sleep late. Come on, let's go round to the patio. The French windows might be open. Oh, we're in luck. They are open. Good. I'll see you, Marta. Thank you. What do you say we raid the kitchen, eh? I could use some breakfast. Good idea. Come on, let's... Marta, what's the matter? What? Oh, good lord. Cecile. Cecile. Jase, what happened to her? Marta, she, uh... She's dead. Dead? Oh, Jase. No, no, no. Easy, easy, my girl, easy. Better sit down. I'll be all right. Jase, how horrible. She's been shot. Shot? An accident? I don't see the gun around anywhere. You, you mean it was... She must have been standing right here when it happened. You see, when she fell, she knocked those things off the desk. The clock, too, pulled the cord out of the wall plug. Yes. Stopped a few minutes after 10. Wait a minute. Must have happened right after I got through talking to her on the phone. I called her at 10. Was she alone at the time? I, I don't know. What did she say? I mean, was she expecting anyone? Oh, not that I know of. We just talked about my coming up here and about you. And that's a surprise. Oh, uh, it's only a new lipstick. I've perfected that song. Oh. Cecile just went on to complain about things in general. You know, the plant and the place here. Sam, the caretaker. Jase. What? Sam, where do you suppose he is? Strange he didn't hear the shot. Let's investigate. Save. That's right. Come on. Let's see if we can find him. Sorry, Jase. His cabin's around back. Of course, he might not have been around last night when it happened. That's possible. According to Cecile, he spent a lot of time in the village. Nearly every evening, visiting the bar. Jase, look, his cabin door's wide open. So it is. Sam. Oh, Sam. Sam, are you... Jase, he's not. No. Just asleep. Sound asleep. Look on the floor at the foot of the bed. Yes. I wonder... Jase, what are you going to do? I'm going to wake him up. We'll get to the bottom of this. Oh, no, wait a minute. He might be dangerous. I think we better call the sheriff. You're right, Marta. Yes. Yes, we'd better call the sheriff. Your little plan is functioning smoothly, isn't it, Marta? Everything falling neatly into place. And with the arrival of the sheriff, the case against Sam begins to take shape. You listen to the questioning. Poor bewildered Sam, so very vague about his movements last night, remembering very little, admitting he'd been drinking heavily. Finally, it's over. And the sheriff takes him away for further questioning. Late that afternoon, as you sit on the veranda of the inn with Jason, the sheriff joins you. Were you at Cecile Dumas' cabin last night, Miss Collins? No, I talked with her on the phone before I left town. When I got here, the weather was so bad I didn't go to the cabin. You came straight to the inn? Yes. I retired early about nine or so. Yes, we found that out from the desk clerk in the maid. But you were in the bar around eight o'clock? Yes, I was. Sam was there, too, wasn't he? Yes, I believe he was. The bartender tells me Sam was in a very ugly mood. Actually threatened to kill Cecile Dumas. In his own words, he was going to ring her neck one of these days. He said that, sure. And the bartender remembered you being there at the bar, too, Miss Collins. Thought you might have overheard Sam make that statement. Why, no. Okay. You wouldn't be wanting to protect Sam, would you? Maybe you don't think he did it. Well, I... I don't know. Sending Sam to the gas chamber. It's not going to bring Cecile back. Poor sweet dear Cecile. Now I'm out of here. Sorry, Jesus. Well, I guess the bartender's word will be good enough. I thank you, Miss Collins. Sheriff, you really think Sam's your man, that he killed Cecile? Well, Mr. Weatherby, there doesn't seem to be much doubt about it at this point. It was Sam's gun that killed him. No other fingerprints were on the gun. Oh, sir, there's no doubt at all. You spend the rest of the day in the quiet of your room. In the seclusion, don't you, Martin? Grieving over the loss of your dear friend, Cecile Dumas. And you're confident that you're in the clear that Sam, the old caretaker, will be convicted of the murder. Then that evening, shortly before you're to meet Jason for dinner, you stroll into the cocktail lounge and you're sitting there sipping a martini when someone slides into the booth. Hello. Hello. Mind if I join you? My name's Fully, Ned Fully. I don't seem to remember. No, we've never met before. Miss Collins. Oh, you know me. Do I? Yes, I know you very well. Very, very well. What does that mean? Well, it so happens I'm a private detective. How nice. And I know a lot of things about you. As such as? Oh, you're 28. You've been married and divorced once. You've been with Cecile's cosmetics for five years, now a partner in the firm. And you've been dipping into the till. Oh, you spilled your drink. See here, what do you mean I've been dipping into it? You don't look so shocked. And don't try to deny it. You see, I'm the guy who found out you were copying the company doll. You? Uh-huh. Cecile Dumar hired me. I see. Don't you think we should continue this discussion elsewhere in private? All right. Let's go upstairs. So you see, Mr. Fuller, it was all arranged. I talked it over with Cecile before I left town. She wasn't going to say anything, and I was going to pay back for money every cent of it. Well, that was nice of Cecile, wasn't it? Mind if I fix myself another drink? Oh, no, let me. No, no, no. You just sit right here. I'll manage. All right, Mr. Fuller. Make it Ned, hmm? Ned? That's better. You know, I'm glad we had this little chat. So am I. I really saved you a lot of trouble. After all, if I'd told the sheriff about all this, well, he'd been around with a lot of questions. Embarrassing questions. Yes, I know. The motive, you know. After all, she could have sent you to prison. Of course, but as I told you... Yes. You two girls had it all straightened up. Yes. Sit down, Ned. Thanks. You have a cigarette. Hmm, on the table right there, Cherelle. Oh, thanks. Hmm. This is interesting. What is? It's the same brand. What are you talking about? I didn't tell you. You see, I found a cigarette stub on the porch of Cecile's cabin. Oh? The way I'd figured it, the killer must have smoked it while waiting there on the veranda. By the French windows, where Cecile is show up. I see. And the brand name on that cigarette is the same as this one. This happens to be Cecile's brand too. It might have been her cigarette. She could have tossed it out the window, you know. It's the standard brand. Anyone might have smoked it. See, that's right, isn't it? Yeah. Yeah, that figures. Besides, I wasn't near the cabin last night. I went to bed here about nine o'clock. The desk clerk and the maid can tell you that. You know, I'm glad I didn't go to the chef. So am I, Ned. And I won't be unappreciative. Ah, that. Of course it'll be a while yet before I'm able to get my hands on some cash. Sure it will. Time will take care of that, huh? I was worried about money now. You know, Ned, I think we're going to get along very well. The two of us. I think you have something there. Ned. Ned. Yes, I... I'm sure we're going to get along very well together. When I told you that Signal's amazing new motor oil actually cuts in half, engine wear due to lubrication. That was only half the story. Here's what half as much engine wear means to your car's performance, to your budget. By reducing engine wear 50%, new Signal Premium motor oil will keep that like-new pep and power in your motor twice as long. 50% reduction in engine wear means that if your car is not already an oil eater, new Signal Premium will double the period during which you'll continue to enjoy low oil consumption. 50% reduction in engine wear means that new Signal Premium will keep gasoline mileage up, maintenance costs down. Yet this wonderful new Signal Lubricant gives you all these extra benefits at no increase in price. Good reason to get your next oil change at a Signal service station. Change to Signal's amazing new motor oil that reduces engine wear 50%. New Signal Premium motor oil. The thread is gone now, isn't it, Marta? With a kiss. Yes, from the moment Ned Fuller, the private detective, took you in his arms. You were certain he wouldn't talk to the sheriff. Tell him what he knew about the money you'd stolen from Cecil's cosmetics. Or turn over the cigarette stuff. Your cigarette, Marta. The one you so carelessly dropped on the porch of Cecil's cabin the night you killed it. You're sure you're in the clear now, aren't you? Yes. You're certain of that. And the following morning as you pack your bags, there's a knock on the door of your room at the inn. Good morning, Miss Collins. Oh, Sheriff, morning. Mind if I come in? No, of course not. I'm just getting my things ready. I'm going back to the city this morning. No, I'm afraid you're not, Miss Collins. A what? You were lying when you said you weren't at the cabin the night your friend Cecil Dumas was murdered. You see, your new clue has turned up. New clue? Yes, a cigarette stuff. It was found on the porch of Miss Dumas' cabin. Well, that means nothing. I smoked several when Jason and I discovered the body. I know. We found those, too. But the one I'm talking about was left before the murder. You see, it was rain-soaked. And it stopped raining at 12 o'clock that night. We believe it's yours. Oh, now, really, Sheriff, a lot of people smoke my brand of cigarettes. Cecil did, as a matter of fact. We know that, Miss Collins. Besides, what possible motive could I have had? I don't think we'll have too much trouble establishing a motive. You see, we've already talked to a private detective named Fuller. Ned Fuller? Oh, Sheriff, Ned's a... Well, let's say that Ned's a friend of mine. Perhaps, Miss Collins. But he was also in love with Cecil Dumas. That was in love with Cecil? Yes. They were planning on being married. Married? Yes. But he... Oh, uh, that kiss, Miss Collins? That's why we're so sure that cigarette stub is yours. You see, we had the lipstick on it analyzed. According to your partner, Mr. Weatherby, you not only invented this lipstick, you're the only person in the world who has it. Then Ned was... That's right. The only reason that Fuller kissed you was to match up the rare lipstick and the cigarette stub with the lipstick you use. And that trademark of yours, Miss Collins, is going to put you in the gas chamber. Let that whistle be your signal for the Signal Oil program The Whistler each Sunday night at this same time. Signal Oil Company has asked me to remind you this about the amazing new Signal Premium Motor Oil, which reduces by 50% engine wear due to lubrication. It's available only at independent signal service stations from the same friendly dealers who help you go farther with Signal Gasoline. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Betty Lou Gerson, Joe Gilbert, John Stevenson, Bruce Payne and Bill Boucher. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Joel Malone, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Whistler is entirely fictional and all characters portrayed on the Whistler are also fictional. Any similarity of names or resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Remember at this same time next Sunday another strange tale by the Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooke starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.