 The Whistler. Presented by the United States Air Forces in Europe. 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. Tonight, it's the Whistler Strange Story, The Havana League. While Havana's tourists were at play on that cool summer morning, a meeting was taking place behind the panel grass doors of the Cuban Sugar Growers Association. To Clifford Fargo, a handsome man in his early thirties, it was no ordinary meeting of the plantation owners, because Cliff knew that a light hung in the ballot. And then, at last, the board has examined the books, Mr. Fargo, and has heard the auditor's report. There can be no doubt that $40,000 is missing from funds that were entrusted to you to equip and supply our sugar control laboratory. No, sir. Ordinarily, we would turn a matter over to the police immediately, but since you come from such a respected family and your work with us has been excellent, we are going to be lenient. We are giving you 60 days, Mr. Fargo, 60 days in which to raise that money or be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. It all started so innocently, didn't it, Cliff? With a few turns of the roulette wheel, as you tried to keep up with the playboys of Havana's international sets, and now you face disgrace and jail, your mind whirls like a dynamo as you seek a way out, you try to escape your own thoughts as you've managed to do on other occasions by going fishing. You hire José and his two-masted scow, don't you, Cliff, and leave for a weekend cruise down the Caribbean. It turns out to be a very important move, doesn't it? As late Sunday night, you're heading back to Harvard. I think we're going to make it. It's all maniacs running without a light. What did you say, José? Nothing, sir. You said something about Havana Lee. Was that the name of that boat? I do not know. You know plenty. It is better not to say. Why? Like this knife across the throat. I'll keep it confidential. Mr. Fargo, in a few hours we are in the palm of Havana. José, you want me to turn you over to the port police? They'll make you talk. All right. But do not breathe for anyone what I say. It is both our lives. Stop whispering. Who can hear us out here? Now, what about that motor launch? It is the Havana Lee, named after one of the most beautiful women of the island and one of the most cruel. Oh, Beth, what a racket. Smuggling. Very dangerous people. What are they smuggling? Whiskey into the United States without paying the big taxes. Who? You said something, didn't you? Yes, I did. Come on, José, let's get in the port. Look, mister, the waiter tells me you've been asking after Havana Lee. What for? Business. Quit, Stalin. I got high blood pressure. I don't like being annoyed. I don't discuss my business with Miss Lee. Who are you? The name's Fargo. Cliff Fargo. I work as a chemist. But I came here to talk directly to Miss Lee. She's busy. You can tell her for me. She's also a little stupid. That's not a very nice thing to say. How do you do, Mr. Fargo? Oh. So you're Havana Lee. You are beautiful. In other words, beautiful, but dumb. Well, that's not quite what I meant. What did you mean, Mr. Fargo? Have I'd rather discuss it in private? George is my partner. It's quite online. Let's stop stalling around. Get to the point. As I understand it, you run that motor launch of yours to Florida loaded with liquor. Now, I consider it a rather risky and stupid smuggling operation. Sit down, Fargo. And I don't mind if I do. Now, estimating the maximum cubic feet of your boat, you can net at most $3,000 a trip. Am I right? You made a mistake. You should have left earlier. Why is that? You might not get out of here at all. George, would you mind pouring some wine? I hope you like out at Port 1923. It's one of my favorites. A man of taste. Please continue. You've heard of Cortisone? A new wonder drug, isn't it? Yes, extremely rare. It's worth $300 a gram, stateside. And what's your price? I can process it here for $30 a gram. The same drug? It would take 10 hours of chemical analysis to detect the difference. I see. It's safer. Package of Cortisone worth $25,000 is no bigger than a man's fist. Click of the wrist, it's overboard. I'd like to see this, sir, this Cortisone. How long will it take? A week. Get it. Fine. Well, there's only one question we have to settle. And what's that? That you take on a third partner. I'll think it over. Please do. And let me know. Wait. You'll get your third. I don't buy this, Havana. We don't even know who this test to pusher is. George. Okay. But just to set you straight, Fargo, Havana may give the orders around here, but I handle the artillery. Don't forget that. I won't forget it, George. Not for a minute. Things do look better, don't they? Your hunch paid off. You'll be certain that somehow you'll be able to get the money to cover your gambling debts after you prove yourself to the smuggling organization operated by the very attractive Miss Havana Leeds. A week later, you'll hear a car pulling up outside the laboratory where you work for the sugar plantation. The headlights of the car blink on and off in the prearranged signal, and you take the drug you so carefully prepared and wrapped in the waterproof tin and hurry outside. Good evening, Mr. Fargo. You have it? Yes, here it is. Good luck. Hey, what do you think you're going? What do you mean? Hop in. I have some solutions on the centrifugal pump. They'll keep... Will they? This time I think you'd better listen to George. I'll get my coat. We got some jackets on the boat. Hurry up and get in. I don't understand this, Havana. Well, it's simple, really. Since you're sharing the profit, we thought it only fair. You share the risk. That wasn't our agreement. It is now. So this is your idea? Yeah. If this is a trap you're springing, I want you around so I can put a .45 against your back and pull a trigger. Didn't you hear anything, Justin? No, you can't hear anything over this motor. I can. It's a Coast Guard. It's wearing their spotlight. Okay, the drug, Fargo. Over, boy. Get that gun out of my ribs. I'll take care of the cortisone. Now, I say you can hand it to the cops in a pig's whistle. Listen, I'm right now, Fargo. Now, give me that gun. Okay. Okay. Now get below deck. So it is a trap. Keep quiet and do as I say. They've got about a minute before they pull a long side. I'm not helping you. Don't be stupid. I'm not giving $25,000 away without a fight. I'll tie this cortisone to the anchor cable while I get the anchor overboard. Tie it with what? Use this wire. Overboard with George's gun, the one that's finding that. Oh, this bull anchor won't budge. Amusing, isn't it, Cliff? The boarding party, the careful searching of the boat, revealing nothing. You smile as the boarding officer reports to his commander that all he's found is a bottle of medicine. Medicine for George's high blood pressure. Your smile widens because even that annoys Havana Lee. And George is made to look very foolish for suspecting you. Later, after you've tied up quite safely in a deserted cove along the coast north of Miami, Havana goes ashore with a drug you've retrieved from the anchor chain. And you're left alone with a quietly smoldering George. Got a line, George? No. Oh, why don't you forget it? I don't want it. I'm going to tell you something, smart boy. I'm all ears. I just decided I don't like you for a partner. Well, exactly what are you telling me, George? I don't want to see you around again, Fargo. If I do, I'll get you killed. Oh, you can't be serious now. OK, Fargo. Mind out for yourself. You aren't going to let George's threats keep you from the money, are you, Cliff? The money that can save you from disgrace and a prison term. When Havana comes back on board, you decide to play for the highest stakes, don't you? But you have to act quickly and carefully. And so with George on deck is the helm, sending the speedboat full throttle back to Cuba. You and Havana sit in the hold under the shadows of a swinging lamp. You decide that this is your chance. Thank you for all you did tonight. You're welcome. But at the moment, I'm only interested in the payoff. Is that really all? I thought you said it. Well, that I was there. A beautiful woman. You are. Fine. You can talk about the money. Most men would give a fortune to be in your position. Havana, you've got a decision to make. Yes, I know George. He is becoming troublesome. That can wait. Come closer. No thanks. What's the matter? I don't want to fall in love with you. Why not? I'd be at your mercy. The other way around. That's right. The man's world. Where's he? You can be here. No. What about George? Well, what do you suggest? You have to be good or one of his gunmen's friends will be out looking for him. That medicine for his high blood pressure. It's an interesting drug. Small doses, it tins the blood, however, is quite deadly. Not here, Clayton. It's as good a place as any. But the body hit him. It won't hit him for four or five hours. By that time, he'll be home in bed. An accidental overdose? Happens all the time. What do we do? Pour it down his throat? I'm going to spell him as a wheel. Before he gets down here, pour three tablespoons into his coffee. Well. All right. If you know what you're doing. Good. Come here, darling. The following day, the newspapers report George's death on the front pages, expressing amazement that he managed to die in bed, but listed as accidental. And then you begin taking over, don't you, Cliff? During the next few weeks, you smuggle three more shipments of your precious concoction into Florida through a ship steward and a fishing captain. But you're growing uneasy, aren't you? Havana League keeps stalling on the payoff until finally you've forced the show down. Havana, I need $40,000 immediately. But they still have the money. It's just a matter of getting it over here in Cuba. Wait a few more days, darling. I have to have it now. What do you want me to do? Transfer it from your personal account. I don't have that much. Why don't you pick up the money yourself? Oh. Well, Florida wants more of this stuff. Deliver it yourself and collect what's yours. Fine. Where do I go? Contact Paul Matthews Hotel Pampa. All right. You can tell Florida I'll be on the morning plane. At Florida Customs, you have the drugs hidden inside of a tobacco pouch in your coat pocket, don't you, Cliff? You feel certain to get through an ordinary customs line, but a rather ominous-looking man waiting behind the regular customs officer worries you, and you decide to play it safe. As you wait, you turn to a friendly old gentleman who sat next to you on the plane. What do you say to a drink before we rush off? Why, I'd like to have fun. Meet you at the airport bar at the customs. While talking to him, you sniff the tobacco pouch containing the cortisone from your pocket into his. A few minutes later, in the office of the customs inspector, you're glad you did. They make a very thorough search of your person and your luggage. They were tipped off, weren't they, Cliff? The search was too complete. You make certain you don't run into the old man you agreed to meet in the bar. Instead, you rush to a phone booth and call the Tampa Hotel. You're not surprised when the desk clerk tells you that no one by the name of Matthews is listed as a guest. Now you're certain, aren't you, Cliff? You take the next plane back to Havana, arrive there an hour later, about three in the afternoon. You pick up your car at the airport and drive directly to Havana Lee's home. Cliff! Surprise! Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Aren't you going to invite me in? Of course, of course. Sit down. Would you like a glass of wine? Thanks. I tried desperately to get you at the airport. Did you? Yes, there was a last-minute switch in plan. It even included tipping off the secret service. Let me drink to your treachery. Well, that was it, Cliff. Somebody talk to me. I wish I could believe that. I swear to you, Cliff. I'll answer it. No. No, I... Hello. This is the International Airways. We're calling to confirm Miss Havana Lee's reservation on Flight 9 to Paris at 8 this evening. Miss Lee wishes to cancel her reservation. Cliff, no. Please, Cliff. Where's the money? I know it's around here somewhere. You wouldn't leave without it. No, you're wrong, Cliff. Listen to me. Sorry, Havana. I don't like double crossers. As you were sure you would, you found the money in one of Havana's suitcases in the bedroom. Far more than you expected. $100,000 in small denomination. You put the money in your briefcase, hurry to your car, and drive through the back roads to your laboratory where you hide your briefcase behind the row of test tube shelves. Tomorrow you'll repay the sugar company the $40,000 you stole. And take the rest of Havana's money to leave the country and establish yourself somewhere in the United States. You shower and shave, then take a cab to the Costa Hotel. Havana's fine. Four leisurely dinners. You're not worried about them getting you for Havana Lee's murder, are you, Cliff? No. There were at least a dozen people who could have killed him. You're certain it will be chalked up as another gangland killing. But as you finish your dessert, a man approaches your table. Uh, Mr. Fargo? That's right. My name's Alvarez, Cuban police. Oh? I would like to ask you a few questions about the smuggling of adulterated cortisone out of Cuba into the United States. I'm sorry, Mr. Alvarez. To convict a smuggler, you have to catch him and he acts with the goods. I have nothing illegal on my person, I'm not going anywhere. Well, thank you for the law lecture. I suppose you also know that Havana Lee was murdered this afternoon? No, I didn't. Sorry to hear it. You know who did it? You are interested in that? Yes, Havana Lee was a friend of mine. Well, you can set your mind at rest. The killer has already convicted himself. He was drinking wine with Havana before he shot her. He was poisoned. With what? The same drug that got Havana's partner, George. The murderer has said most, oh, two more hours of life, only he doesn't even know it. There's only one known antidote, but well, of course, I don't have to tell you that. Are we getting what he deserves? That's right. Well, I have to move on, Fargo. Do you want me to come up over for a longer chat some day? Do that. You can hardly wait until he leaves, can you, Cliff? And as soon as you're certain he's gone, you hurry to the drugstore and order the one antidote you know can offset the effects of the wine you've drunk at Havana Lee. The one antidote you're certain can save your life. And hurry it up. Will you please? Never mind, Kirk. Come along, Fargo. We knew Havana Lee's killer would try to get the antidote as soon as he knew about the poison wine. All right. All right, I did it. But let me take the antidote. I'm getting dizzy right now in five minutes. Mr. Fargo, Mr. Fargo, you don't have to worry. I told you that wine story to see what you would do. It was perfectly good wine. As a matter of fact, I had a glass of it myself. Very tasty. Be with us again next week when once again the United States Air Force is in Europe. Present the Whistler.