 Personal notice. Danger is my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you've got a job for me. George Valentine. Rightful details. Yes, it's Let George Do It, brought to you by PRIM, P-R-E-A-M. The new miracle way to cream your coffee. In a moment, we'll begin tonight's transcribed adventure of George Valentine. But first... All the new way to cream it is to P-R-E-A-M and get PRIM. That's PRIM. With a capital P. Whatever you use to cream your coffee now, you'll prefer PRIM, P-R-E-A-M. For PRIM in instant powdered form, cream's coffee deliciously, conveniently, and saves money at the same time. You'll love the rich, creamy flavor of PRIM. That's because this new dairy miracle is made from fresh, sweet cream and milk products only. And count on wonderful new convenience. For PRIM, never sours, never turns. Keeps indefinitely while sealed. Open for every day use. PRIM stays fresh tasting to the last spoonful, whether you keep it on your kitchen shelf or in your refrigerator. And then PRIM is thrifty. Saves over one-third on coffee cream costs. What's more, PRIM is less fattening. Use PRIM in your coffee instead of coffee cream as you get up to 50% fewer calories. Buy PRIM today. P-R-E-A-M. PRIM's get PRIM with a capital P. And now, tonight's adventure of George Valentine, the coward. Dear Mr. Valentine, my name is Douglas French. I'm staying in a roaming house 317 River Street. Mr. Valentine, we can't lose a second in correcting the most fearful, the most horrible mistake ever made by a madman. I knew the man, but very briefly, a number of years ago, some way, somehow, in these years between, the pain of his own suffering must have twisted all his remembrance of fact. Because I hadn't been in this city more than 24 hours from the telegraph office call to read me a wire. It had my name on it. My brand new address. It was from him. Message follows. It says, I have got some new facts. It is never too late for you to suffer as you should. Now I know, and soon the world will know, that I hereby accuse you of cold-bloodily committing murder for your own cowardly gain, accuse you of murdering a total of 37 people. Signed, Aimele Martinez. Aime... Aimele Martinez. I'd say we won't attempt to remove it until the X-rays have developed, Lieutenant. You see, in this quarter of a man's chest. Yeah, yeah, Doc, I know. Anyway, maybe the pictures will help us until you do get the bullet. You're the breastbone, huh? With the juncture of this rib, you see? Exactly. No, I'd say the difficult part just now is keeping the poor man alive. All right, Doc. Why so anxious about the bullet, Lieutenant? Do you have a gun to match it with or something? Not yet, but when I do find one. Well, I want to know what I'm looking for. There's nothing concrete to grab onto in this case. Except the telegram, Johnson? Yeah, that's Aimele Martinez. We'll round up every Aimele Martinez that ever lived. Only I don't know what... Only it was a little wild, wasn't it? 37 people. Almost a little crazy. Except that we do have a straight-out attempted murder on our hands. Couldn't you find out anything about Mr. French? He comes from the East, they're investigating. They'll let us know. Doesn't look like anything. No past record, no enemies. If that's what you mean? No, no, I meant friends. They're here in town, at least wise you didn't see anybody we know of. And you found him with the river, huh? Walk away on the bridge. Landlady said he'd had supper, was pretty nervous, went for a walk to kill time at the late o'clock. You got it out there in the dark, noise of traffic on the bridge to cover the shot. Perfect place, lonesome, motorist can't see. I guess he'd still be there if one of them hadn't stopped to inspect a flat tire. Lieutenant, I have the X-ray. Yeah, let's see. Careful, Lieutenant. Johnson, speaking of flat tires... I'm not going to measure any caliber of anything off that picture. For the... what is it, a picket fence? Yes, yes, beautifully clay, you see. I'd say a bullet is this little shadow here under the edge of the rib. Yeah, I always get a seat behind a pole. Help us know when we operate later on. Later on, and I got to sit around waiting to see if he regains consciousness or dies. Sure, Johnson, in the meantime the game goes on, doesn't it? What? While you're waiting for that pole to be moved, there's somebody running around who's nutty and elder-crazy. Oh, really, Mr. Validate, I should be in bed today. You know, the telegraph company keeps quite adequate recklessness worse than the Army. But I've already told them. Excuse me. Bless you. Look, I know there's a file copy of Wires to it. Oh, yeah, yes, and we sent him a confirming copy after we phoned it naturally. George, they didn't find one on Mr. French or in his room. Yeah, probably threw it away or burned it, Bruxy. No, I'm interested in the file copy at the sending point. Oh, by handwriting? Oh, but it was telephoned in by Mr. Martinez to one of the stations here at the... The city! Bless you. But when you do that, you do have to give your phone number and address for charges, don't you? Oh, oh, I see what you mean. Well, yes, yes, we've already investigated. Now, wait a minute. I have it. I have it right. Right here. It was a pay station. Oh, bless you. I know it's discouraging, but we handle so much traffic every day. It's very seldom, you know, anyone would notice the text. Our girls never react to the millions of words they read. Good heavens, Miss Johnson. What is it? Mr. Anzlo, your message continues. I hereby accuse you of cold, bloodedly murdering 37 people signed Amio Martinez. Do you have that, Mr. Anzlo? I'll repeat for confirmation 37. She's fainted. I tell you, I haven't received any wires. I don't know anything about the wires. We were in the telegraph office just now when they phoned it to you, Mr. Anzlo. I don't know anything about it. I don't know the... All right. I did get it. I'm just a botanist. You understand, Mr. Valentine? A student. Playing Mr. Botany B. I'm not concerned with the world of men. Mr. Anzlo, you were going to say that it was a mistake, weren't you? Yes. Yes, it was a horrible mistake. I thought Mr. French said about his wire. I'm just a botanist. In the world of botany... I guess you've seen about Mr. French in the newspapers, haven't you? At least from the looks of your study here, all these newspapers? Yes, Mr. Valentine. I know what happened. But that doesn't mean... Okay, then why did it happen? Why the wires? Who is Amio Martinez? As long as I live. Oh, yes, you will bust it. George, wait a minute. Mr. Anzlo, do you always tear up your magazines like that? Huh? They're in the wastebasket. It's a current copy, too. I never heard of anyone tearing up a... Get away from there! Look out, Bruxy! Put it down! Don't touch it! Don't! Sorry, Professor. No... You'll be okay, Anzlo. Now just sit there. Now then, what do we have to do? Go through the magazine page by page, or are you going to tell us what it is? Barton here's my world. George. My world is Barton here. Okay, where it's folded. Thirty-seven. The number, it's here in the article. Freelance writer J. J. Ferrell. He's Ferrell. Never mind. What is it? He's talking about the war, about being in Japan. It says, in reference to the above, it is of interest to note that Colonel Siyamoto's dying remarks to me concerned the wiping out of a party of thirty-seven. Who, with the assistance of native guerrillas, were trying to escape the holocaust of Singapore? George. Yeah, go ahead, Angel. In this case, the efficiency of fifth column informants was belied. Colonel Siyamoto stated that the party which included soldiers as well as civilians never would have been located, had it not been that four members of the party itself were foraging for food at night, and that the application of threats finally made one of the four confess secretly the exact location of the other thirty-seven who regrettably had to be destroyed. Other examples of fifth column, so on and so forth. Hmm. So, I guess the words in that telegram aren't so crazy after all, are they? No. No, Mr. Valentine. Were you one of the four, Mr. Ronson? Yes. Was Amal Martini's? Oh, sir. I wouldn't read it. Oh, sir. I wouldn't remember any names. Was Douglas French? Oh, yes, yes. His pictures in the newspapers. It was the same man, I'm sure. All right, who else? I wouldn't remember any names. We were all strangers until then. It was just a random group with us in the big party with a few British Army men and guerrilla leaders. The others I went foraging with were businessmen, perhaps Americans. I know that. I was teaching high school botany in Singapore, Mr. Valentine. Botany, I... But afterward, you went through so much together you were threatened. Maybe tortured, weren't you? We were separated later on sent to different prison camps. The four of us... I never knew just why they stopped torturing us, Mr. Valentine. Why they didn't go ahead and kill us. But somehow I just can't believe that you wouldn't remember. A thing so simply told in that article. A thing so unimportant to the rest of the world. To whom the numbers 37 and 4 don't have such awful meaning. And who would guess that we were still alive, any of us? Perhaps many such events took place before. It's not a thing simply remembered Mr. Valentine. At least, not with sanity. Among that 37 were friends were our families. Well, I have another family now. My work. I'm a Bartonist. I don't remember anything. I'm a Bartonist. I... Okay, Mr. Anzo. I'll talk to you later. I'm just a Bartonist. A peaceful man. An angel is a guy giving a lecture tomorrow at the downtown club on the Orient. What? Just ordinary stuff, but the speaker's name is J. J. Ferrell. Oh, the writer? That's why... Yeah, everybody seems to be in town at once. I wonder why. And if this whole case has turned out to be a chase after a betrayer, an informer, a coward, then I wonder if the writer wrote all he knew. Everything the dying jab told him about exactly who, which one of the four was the coward. I tell you, I ain't seen Mr. Ferrell. Look, that's a suitcase. That's his, isn't it? You see the stickers? Well, what if it is? I ain't noticed him come in, clean up and dust and bring in the linen once a week. That's all I do. I'm not a snooper like some people a body has to put up with. Oh, please, take it easy. Won't you? We told you how important it was... Rosie, here's his notebook, too. And guess what's on the back page? Scribbled in pencil. I have some new facts hereby accuse you of murder of a total of... What's this? What's this? Andy, suppose you go into that bedroom and get rid of the laundry or whatever it is you're doing there once a week. I told you a body had to put up with things. George, those words... Yeah, the words from the telegram. The same identical telegram signed Amel Martinez. Stay with it, Bertie. Is that your tenant, Andy? No. Is that the writer? JJ Farrell? Yes, but I didn't see him come in. I've been here all day. I ain't seen him all day. No, I guess you haven't. He looks like he's been dead since yesterday. You know there's a wonderful new way to cream coffee. It's preem, P-R-E-A-M. A 100% dairy product in instant powdered form. Once you try preem, you'll find for delicious flavor, convenience and economy, you'll prefer it to all other products for creaming your coffee. And say, that's not all. Preem has many other wonderful uses. 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Particularly when you see that his notebook contains the words of a certain fateful, hate-filled telegram. The only trouble is the writer is dead. What did the medical examiner say, Johnson? Same as you. Dead 24 hours, maybe. Uh-huh, and his head bashed in. Crime of passion. It was a fight. Struggle. That's a mouthful of understatement, brother. But what about Farrell? What kind of a guy was he? I checked with a couple of editors. His reputation's good. Not a chance of his being mixed up with anybody from the Singapore business. Before we're still alive, he's the kind of guy probably would've kept his mouth shut. Let sleeping dogs lie. Maybe he didn't write all he didn't know. He couldn't have, or this doesn't make any sense. Ah, sense, Shad. A guy gets a bullet from home. A guy gets bashed in by home. It's a killer I won. I was reading Farrell's notebook, Lieutenant. He has notes and things for stories. And it seems to me you're both counting wrong. What's that, Angel? Well, I mean, look, here it says Amel Martinez, question mark. What? Give me that. And then there's the name Douglas French, his address back east, and Mr. Onslow. Well, that's only three, isn't it? But if I turn the page, I can count to four. Nick Atkins, with a street number here in town. This is the number. Yeah, and this is one time I'm going to do the talking. One time I'm... Down the alley there. Come on, you take it around the left. Yeah. There's a policeman. Guy around, and I see him now. Brooks, wait. Those shots were in the alley here. But there's nobody here. There's a cop beside window. Yeah, broken. Guy was standing out here shooting in it. Side door, Brooks. Nick Atkins. Missed me, didn't he? You Atkins. Couldn't hit fish in a rain barrel that way the way you shot at me. Who couldn't? Don't mind if we get out of this light of doorway, though, do you? Yeah, yeah, but who? How should I know? Look, Buster, my name's Valentine, and this is... Sure, I read the papers, Valentine. All right, cutie. Miss Brooks, isn't it? You read the papers, Mr. Atkins. I also get around. I watch what's going on. Did you get a telegram? Don't think I'd be left out, do you? Sure, sure. Same stuff, same words I checked with Frenchy yesterday. You saw Douglas Frenchy yesterday? Well, he gave me a ring to say he was in town from back east, that's all. Uh-huh. You seen Anzlo, likely? Nope. Martini's? Nope. What else did French say? That's all. He was sure in a lather about that wire, though. Poor guy. Yeah, it all strikes you pretty funny, doesn't it? You got a better suggestion? How else are you going to take this world unless you laugh at it? Okay, Atkins. Now, look, get something straight, Mr. There was 37 people there. I was a boss, Steve Ador at the American Docks in Singapore. I was so smart, I thought my wife would be safer with them 37. Oh, I see. Nick, you're, uh... You're not going to help us very much, are you? I don't know. Well, there's one thing I would like to know. Did you have any idea back there in 1942 that any one of the four of you had turned in former, that when they questioned you separately, one of you had been a coward? What do you think? No. None of you even guessed how that tragedy came about until you read Ferrell's article in a magazine. Otherwise, a certain one of you would never have lasted as long as this. All right, stand still, both of you. All right, take it easy, take it easy, I know who it is. Come in, Johnson. There's three cops I'm going to demote, and then I'm going to demote my shell. Well, what happened? Did he get away? Ah, don't even ask me. What's the matter with you? Relax, Johnson, this is Atkins. Has he told you where Martini lives yet? Has he told you what he looks like? He's telling us nothing. Everybody's being so cooperative in this case. Well, you can't blame them, Johnson. Of course the coward isn't going to talk. He'll see, we'll see. I'm expecting a call from headquarters. Oh, did they operate on Mr. French for the bullet? You could compare it with the ones that were fired at Nick Atkins? No, no, not that. It's Amo Martinez, the right Amo Martinez. What are you talking about? You see, people won't tell us. We find out. Hello, Johnson. No. No, Sergeant, you're wrong. You can't be... Yeah? Amo Martinez, who was in Singapore, who was captured and sent along to a Jap prison camp a couple of years later in that same camp. He died of sickness. Well, but... Telegram? So that's why the question mark after his name. So that's why... A dead man sends telegrams today, yesterday. A dead man phones a telegraph officer. Listen to me, Johnson. Somebody signed his name, that's all. Somebody who wanted to make everybody else sweat. Somebody who'd found out in the article there'd been a coward, but didn't know who it was, was trying to smoke him out. But that's not important, you get me? What I want to do is stop another murder. Another? Well, who's left out of the four? Who fired those shots at Atkins? Who could it be? Get away from me, both of you. Came right back to your house, didn't you, Mr. Onslow? You can't have my gun, you can't have it. But you've already shot at Nick Atkins, Mr. Onslow. I missed him, I know I missed him. But you won't get another chance, we're here now, and you're not going to shoot us? Stop talking to me as though I were crazy, I'm not crazy. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him, that's what I'm trying to do. I'm going to kill him no matter what it does. That's better, Professor. I don't care what it does, no matter what it does to anybody. All right, we know Mr. Onslow, but still... I talk about Botany. I try to think about Botany, because I know what a terrible thing killing is, but I can't close my mind. I'm going to kill him. Please, Mr. Onslow, please be quiet, will you? Why? Let him spell it out. You too, Johnson, we're making too much noise. I told you I wanted to stop a murder, didn't I? Yeah, but... George, yeah, Bruxy. He's here. I just heard the front door open and... Shh, wait a minute. Here he comes. All right, get him! Okay, okay, get off me, I'm not going any place, now get off! Chris, come Johnson, I haven't got a gun. I don't need a gun. He's clean. All right, I'm sorry we had to be so rough, but sit still, don't move. Why? You know why. Hello, Onslow. Hello, Mr. Atkins. I guess we can do without the formalities. Just taking both 90 headquarters. We can check that gun of yours against the bullet in Douglas French, Mr. Onslow. No! And you don't have to laugh, Atkins. We'll find a gun of yours someplace. Take it easy, Johnson. I think I'll find the other gun for you. Where? French got his bullet on the walkway of a bridge, right by the railing. Okay, get some boys dragging that river fast. Killer tossed it over, huh? All right, it's worth a chance. It's worth a lot more than that. I'll say it is, because one of these two guys did it. They're the only ones left. One of those two bashed in that writer then later on went out and took a pot shot at French. I guess because French and Feral and everybody else knew he was the coward. That's why. Yeah. Yeah, it is funny, isn't it, Atkins? Because you came up here to kill Onslow, didn't you? He's the coward. I don't need a gun. You got no idea what it feels like to know what he did, Valentine. Now, he's the coward. No, kill him. No, you don't. I'll cut it out. I want to talk about telegrams. Martinis didn't send them. That's a cinch. And Mr. Onslow, you didn't even receive your wire until long after Feral was dead and French had been shot. What difference does that... Therefore, the wires must have been sent by one of you two and whichever one it was, you sent one to yourself to cover up. So what if I did? Now, what does that make me? Thanks, Atkins. But I don't even care if it was you. The point is, the guy who sent those wires did it because he didn't know who the coward was. Look, Mr. So he couldn't have been the coward himself, could he? Now, wait a minute, Valentine. This case is all upside down, Johnson, because for once the innocent have a tragic motive for wanting to kill. You two guys are at each other's throats because you're the last ones left. Because you jumped to the same conclusions the lieutenant did. But Mr. Valentine, I don't know... Oh, it's pretty easy, Mr. Onslow. I guess there were two men who knew about the coward. Mr. Feral and the coward himself, who must have found that Feral knew the truth and killed him. The man who walked out on the bridge by the railing tried to commit suicide. Douglas French. Where is Valentine, anyway? He'll be right back, Lieutenant. The doctor said the bullet was right next to his heart. Yeah, I guess it'll match up with the gun from the river, alright? The gun we already traced to French. He must have stood by the railing concentrated on making his die-in movement to heave the gun overboard. Pull the trigger. Douglas French, only why? Why'd he go to all that trouble? Why'd he call Valentine in good? Think how close to his heart it's always been, Lieutenant. Ever since 1942. Something even more deadly than a bullet. The guilt of knowing what he did. Of being the only one who knew. I guess so. And then when the article came out, when he killed Mr. Feral, he must have known it was hopeless that the others would get to him sooner or later. But why call Valentine in good? I don't understand. He wanted to make everyone think accusing him would be a mistake. It was like the way he tried to commit suicide. Trying to make it someone else's fault. Making everything seem someone else's fault. Sure, sure. I get it. Douglas French was a coward all the way to the bitter end. 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George, what are you thinking about? I don't know, Angel. The things people do to forget things, laugh at the world like Nick Atkins, or concentrate on work. Like botany maybe. We're pretty lucky, Bruxy and I. I know it. Not having anything big to... Well, when we want to forget, all we have to do is... Yes, George. All right. We go out and get something to eat. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you transcribed by Prime, the new dairy miracle in instant powdered form. Try it. You'll prefer it to all other products for creaming your coffee. For Prime is the most delicious, convenient, thrifty way to cream your coffee ever discovered. Let George do it stars Olin Suley as George, and tonight Lillian Bayef appeared as Bruxy. Ken Christie appears as Lieutenant Johnson. Let George do it is written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis, and directed by JC Lewis. Also heard in tonight's cast, where Jack Edwards is French, Jane Avello is Anzlo, Jack Krushen is Atkins, Noreen Gamil as the landlady, and Doris Singleton as the telegraph girl. The music was composed and presented by George Wright, your announcer, George Crowell. Join us again next Monday night. Same time, same station, what amazing new Prime, P-R-E-A-M. Invite you to... Let George do it.