 Box 13 with the star of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd, as Dan Holliday. Box 13, care of star times. You advertised for adventure? I have it for you. If you will go any place, I can offer Paris. If you will do anything, you are the man I need. If you're interested, call at my office any day between the hours of 10 a.m. any day between the hours of 10 a.m. and noon. I'm a 247 Warbash place signed William Martin. Paris. Adventure. What a dream that could have been. It was, but the awake thing was different. And now back to Box 13 and Dan Holliday's newest adventure, Diamond in the Sky. Sounded great. A trip to Paris and adventure for the frosting on the cake. Whoever Mr. William Martin was, he must have known that waving a deal like that in front of anyone was making it a sure thing. But Susie, as usual, had something to say. I don't know, Mr. Holliday. Maybe it's just somebody kidding you. That's the girl, Susie. Get out the wet blanket, spread them around. Then again, maybe this Mr. Martin is beyond approach. The word Susie is reproach. But I've got a brilliant idea. What, Mr. Holliday? It's all very simple. I go to see Mr. William Martin at 247 Warbash Place. Warbash Place was one of those little streets filled with small businesses. But number 247 was by itself. No display window in front like the others. I thumbed a bell button that had a card under it with William Martin engraved on it. One minute later, after introductions, I was looking across a desk at a short, stocky, apple-cheek man who said, No one knows you have come here, Mr. Holliday. No, just my secretary. Oh, but she won't say anything. You're positive. I am. Good. Cigarette, Mr. Holliday. Oh, yes, thanks. And a light. You do not like my brand. All this lacks is a fuse. What's in it? My special tobacco. But here's an ashtray. Thanks. Well, Mr. Martin, you wrote that letter to box 13 and here I am. Oh, good. Down to business then. He opened the drawer, took out a photograph and slid it across the desk for me. What I saw was a picture of a diamond. But what a piece of ice. I was studying it when Martin spoke again. I see by your expression, Mr. Holliday, that you are properly impressed. Oh, I'm impressed, Mr. Martin. What is this, the Rock of Gibraltar or something? Not quite. That is the Mirabilis Diamond. Oh, you've heard of it then? Yes, yes, but how does it concern me? Here, these credentials will tell you who I am. William Martin. Well, that's my name, yes, but, well, you look. Martin passed me a sheaf of papers with this photo on them. He was William Martin, representative of Jason, and Van der Kleft. The name sounded familiar. Martin read my expression again. And Mr. Van der Kleft is a diamond merchant. He has recently purchased the Mirabilis for a million dollars. That's a lot of hay for a lot of ice. I beg your pardon. I'm sorry. Go ahead, Mr. Martin. The gem is in Paris. I am to get it and bring it over here. I see. And box 13? You will go with me, Mr. Holiday. I have reservations for you on the plane. Oh, not just a minute. I'm not a bodyguard, Mr. Martin, or a private detective. Please, please. Nothing so crude, Mr. Holiday. No, I have a much better plan. But first, let me tell you something. There is no jewel thief in the world who would not risk everything to get the Mirabilis. He could never sell it? No, no. But it could be cut up and any one of the smaller stones would more than repay the thief for their trouble. Yes, I guess you're right. Okay, where do I come in? Well, it is very simple. But like all simple things, it is brilliant. I thought of it. Congratulations. Thank you. Now, you will pick up the diamond in Paris. I will go on the same plane, but we shall be complete strangers to each other. Do you begin to see Mr. Holiday? Sure. If anyone's wise, if you're going over to get the stone, they'll follow you. Exactly. But I won't have it. You will. I shall stroll around Paris as a tourist. Anyone following me will be, shall we say, following a red mackerel? All right, let's say it. Oh, but there's only one thing wrong. Wrong? I did not think of something important. Yeah, that's right. Me. Suppose this plan doesn't fool anyone, then I'm set up like a clay pigeon. You lose a marvellous and I'm just another claim for the insurance company. Oh, no, no, you have no worry. Well, maybe I worry easily, Mr. Martin, especially if I'm carrying a million dollars worth of bait. Mr. Holiday, only you and I know of this. There can be no leak of information unless you tell someone. Oh, sure. I'll go around telling everyone that Dan Holiday's a setup. Here I am, fellas. Come and get me. That's right. And thieves would kill to get the diamond. They have already. Why, I can tell you the history of the stone. Calcutta murder. London murder. Vienna, two deaths. Uh, Mr. Martin, skip the cook's tour of the morgue, will you? But you advertised for adventure, Mr. Holiday. You will go any place, do anything. Where? Touche. A little below the belt, but Touche. And you've added one more to the population of Paris. Martin's plan was simple, and if it worked a good way to get the marvellous into the United States, I said if. Hey, who invented that word? Well, it was three days later that I was ready to leave passport OK, papers in order, and a phone call from Martin warning me not to recognize him when we were on the plane. I gave instructions to Susie and left for the airport. A few hours later, I was out of the Atlantic. Martin sat well in front of me and never once looked back. So I played it his way and beyond a quick look paid no attention to him. Then as I was settling down to watch the ocean go past underneath. Mr. Holiday? Mr. Dan Holiday? Yes, I'm Holiday. I'm Arian Carson, your stewardess. Oh, how are you? Fine. And you? Wonderful, thank you. Good. Here's a letter for you. Letter? You're sure it's for me? Mr. Holiday, seat 19, flight 12. Check all the way through on that. All right, thanks, Miss Carson. You're welcome, sir. Oh, Miss Carson. Is there something you want? Well, just an answer to a question. Who gave you this? Well, no one. It was among last minute letters and packages and gifts for our passengers. Oh, I see. Well, thanks again, Miss Carson. Not at all, Mr. Holiday. The letter was from Martin, brief and to the point. I was to go to an address in Paris and stay there until he called. Well, Mr. Martin was playing them close to his vest. Maybe he didn't trust me. And who could blame him? With a million dollars worth of diamond for an auntie, he wasn't dealing all the cards at once. Well, all I had to do was wait until morning in Paris. Early next morning, we landed at the Bourgette Field. I stuck close behind Martin, leaving the plane, but he didn't give me a tumble saw. Well, I guess my cue was to hold up at the address mentioned in the letter until he got in touch. I was trying to flag down a taxi when... Is this the last time you saw Paris, Mr. Holiday? Oh, hello there, Miss Carson. Looks like you're having trouble. Yes, a little. Say, how do you get one of these rounded grass hoppers to stop? You wave in French, like this. Oh, just like that? Just like that. Teach me to wave like that and I'll be able to get a taxi in Paris. Of course, if you lend me your face. There's nothing to it. Oh, I almost forgot. I came out here to find you. Oh, is something wrong? Passport, papers? No, but I believe this is yours. How did you get this? I found it on the floor of the plane just after you left. Oh? What's the matter? I... Nothing. Can I give you a lift? No, thanks. I have my reports to make out. Maybe some other time if we're still in Paris, huh? Well, I'll be for three days before the hop back to the States. No, I see. Well, thanks a lot, Miss Carson. I'll be seeing you. I hope so, Mr. Holiday. She walked away from me and my hand was the letter from Martin telling me where to stay until I heard from him. I hopped into the cab, gave the driver the address, and then leaned back in the seat to do some thinking. The letter was in my inside coat pocket. Pretty hard for anything to fall out of there. But my coat had been on a hanger and I'd been away from it just long enough for anyone to pick up that letter. So, if anyone was wise to the way the game was being played, Martin was home safe while I stood better than even chance of being picked off a first base. A half hour later, I was sitting in the little room at the address given me when... Yes? Uh, we? Hello? Holiday. Yes? Oh, Martin? Yes. Uh, fine. Now what? You are sure no one knows where you are? Well, I... Holiday. All right, no one knows. Now what? Here is an address. Go to it. There you will pick up the package. Okay. Now, don't write this down. Remember it. All right. All right, I can remember it. Forty-five, Rue de la Guerre. Forty-five... No, no, no, no. Remember it. All right, all right. My concern? Look, my neck's out of yard too, Martin. Of course, of course. Identify yourself with these words. I've come from the sky. You hear that? I got it. Then what? There will be no question. Those words are our code. Now, I am registered at the Vendome Hotel. Leave the package for me at the desk. Just like that, I leave a package for... I know what I am doing. Rest is up to you, Mr. Holiday. Okay. And? Yes, what now? For your sake, I sincerely hope nothing goes wrong. Back to Box 13 and Diamond in the Sky with Alan Ladd as Dan Holiday. The rest was up to me, Martin said. All I had to do was collect the Marabalus Diamond, see that I wasn't caught off base, deliver it to Martin and then that was all. I hailed a cab on the street. The catcher sank Rue de la Guerre, beaten. Governor, with an accent like that, just talk English. Guess it wasn't very good, huh? Are you an American? No, we're Londoners, from Limehouse. Hop in, sir. That was Forty-five Rue de la Guerre, wasn't it? Yes, that's right. How did you know I was American? You kidding? I drove a cab three years in Brooklyn. He wants to know how I know he's an American. Okay, Limehouse. Then you should know what this means. Step on it and never mind the tickets, huh? Blimey, I ain't heard that since the day's in Flatbush. Hold on, pal. Here we go. You're here, Governor. Want me to wait? Yeah, and keep that motor hot. Hey, what's up? I don't know. Something hot? Just wait. Okay, Governor. I'll be here. I went into the house, as for Monsieur Coray. Gave him the code words, I've come from the sky. And without a word, he went to the fireplace. Lifted out a brick and handed me a velvet case. And after all this, I... I had to take a look. Inside the case, well, the marvellous looked like a piece of something that would make any crook risk his neck or mine. I snapped this case shut. Coray said nothing, just watched me. Showed me out. All right, Limehouse. Find home, hotel, and on the way, don't bother to fly along. I don't know what this is all about, sir, but when you went in that house, that car pulled up back of us and stopped. Huh? And they kept their motor hot, too. Limehouse was right. It looked as though somebody had talked, but not me, and certainly not Martin. We pulled away the big cartel after us. Limehouse turned his head to talk to me. They're tailing us all right. Can you get away? With this act, the three cylinders still working. They've got asthma. You've got to make it. What did you do? Pinched the crown jewels? You're warm. Step on and do your best, will you? Did you pull a heist? No. Okay, you've got an honest face. All right, Governor, there's nothing keeping this act together, but termites holding hands. But here we go. That big car in the back didn't lose an inch. Limehouse and I had to go through an empty stretch of road. So I told him I thought that's where the mugs and the big car would make their pitch, I should write, but I've got an idea. Well, I can use it. Listen, look down the street. See that turn to the right? Yeah. I'll get close to the curb as I can and you get ready for a jump. Huh? Jump? I'll act like I'm going straight, but where I showed you, I'll turn fast to the right. You jump out, roll in the doorway or something. But what about you? I'll make a U-turn back out and pull the mugs down the street after me. You got it? Got it. Oh, here's your fare, plus. Ain't had so much fun since Coney Island. Okay, pal. Try for the brass ring. Nah! Had a boy Limehouse. It worked. I collected a few bruises, but I still have the diamond. Farther down the road, Limehouse stopped. He had to because the boy's in the big car angle in front of his cab. I waited long enough to make sure Limehouse was going to keep his health. Then I doubled back and forth until I came out on a main street. There I took a bus. I felt like having lots of people around. I got to the Bondome Hotel, walked to the desk and told the clerk I wanted to leave a package for Monsieur William Martin. Oh, brother, I got the surprise of my life when the clerk told me there was no Monsieur William Martin registered there. Well, I sat down to figure that one out. Then just when I was about to give up, I... Holiday. No, no, no. Don't look at me. Martin, what the devil? Pretend that you are not speaking to me. Now, you have the stone. Yes, but I almost didn't have it. What happened? It's a long story. You want to hear it now? No, no, no. We have not enough time. I will put part of my newspaper on the sofa between us. Then when no one is looking, put the diamond under the paper. Okay, then what? After a minute, I will pick up the newspaper and leave. Oh, and I hope this ice goes with you, Mr. Martin. It will. Don't worry. Well, that looked like it. All finished. The kind of chickens that weren't there. A half hour later, I went to the room of my hotel. I just had the door open when... I woke from my deep dream of peace with a knot on my head and a distaste for the whole proceedings. And the room? Well, it was in shambles. Somebody had fine combed it after drumming on my head. The manager knew nothing about it. Well, that made us even because I... I couldn't figure why somebody took the trouble to slug me and searched the room when I didn't have the diamond. Unless... Unless somebody thought I was still carrying it. That's somebody? I had an idea, and 40 minutes later, I was sitting across from Irene Carson at a little sidewalk cafe. Mr. Holliday, you... You're insane. I will be after another knock on the head. But why do you accuse me? Because no one but Martin knew where I was going to stay in Paris. And you? But this is ridiculous. How should I know? The letter you said dropped out of my pocket. It did drop from your pocket, and I did not read it. Really, I think this is a ridiculous story. A Mr. Martin who wasn't at his hotel to pick up a diamond worth a million dollars men chasing you, hitting you, searching your room. And now, simply because I had my hands on a letter, you accuse me of a... I knew it. You're Mr. Martin. And that's another thing. I never saw you with anyone on that plane. You spoke to no one. You got off alone. Really, Mr. Holliday, it's a fantastic story. No one saw me with Martin. Exactly. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to Le Bourget. You've taken up too much of my time already. I... All right, Miss Carson. But will you do me a favor? What? Confess to the whole thing? Admit I'm a notorious international jewel thief? No, I... just get me on a plane back to the States. Look, I... I apologize. All right. All right, I accept the apology. And I'll do my best to get you out of Paris. You seem to be allergic to trouble here. You're so right, Miss Carson. You're so right. After that rig we're all in Paris, New York's LaGuardia Airport sure looked good to me. I was leaving the field when... Welcome home, Holliday. Well, Clang, what a nice surprise. I've got more. Come on. Hey, wait a bit. What is this? You're a writer. Write a line for yourself now. What are you talking about? I'm talking about a pinch, Holliday. Which this is. Arrested? Wait a minute. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. On the way into the city, Clang wouldn't say a word. For every question I asked, he growled. But finally in his office... Where's the diamond, Holliday? Diamond? Mirabilous, smirabilous. Where is it? I smuggled it in, Clang. So you got through customs. Now quit stalling. Where is it? Are you kidding? A million in ice and nobody kids. Nobody. Now, wait a minute. Why did you pick me up? I stopped in at your office to say hello, Susie told me that you were in Paris. Yesterday we got word from Jason van der Kliff that the mirabilous diamond he was to get from Paris hasn't shown up. We checked with the Paris police. A guy named Coray... Describe me. Is that it? Yeah. Susie tells me you're in Paris. Coray describes you and two and two make four. Now start talking. Well, I told Clang the story. Starting with Martin's letter to box 13 and ending with my return to the States. Can you approve that yarn? Can I ask him? That'll be a little tough. He's dead. What? Yeah. When did you leave for Paris? The day before yesterday. Martin's body was found in the river that day. We didn't get an identification out of yesterday. Van der Kliff identified him. Clang, you're crazy. I tell you Martin went to Paris on the same plane with me. Here's Martin's photograph. Take a good look. This isn't Martin. Van der Kliff ought to know his own agent. And the Martin... the Martin I went with was a fake. Yeah. He'll probably kill the real Martin. Took his place, used his own photo and the credentials he showed you. I... That's a brilliant remark. But the crooks who chased me in Paris. Am I being hit over the head after I got the diamond? Yeah. It's easy to figure now. Your fake Martin sent those hoods after you to get the diamond and get rid of you for good so you couldn't identify him. That's why he wasn't registered at the hotel because he didn't expect me to show up at the diamond. And they cracked over the head. Your room searched. Sure, sure, sure. When I got away from his boys he sent them to my room thinking I might go back there before I went to the Vendome. I walked in while they were searching the room and they slugged me. Don't just say, Clang, I'm in the clear. How? Because I had nothing to do with the... Holiday, you've got your story. But only Martin can keep you out of jail. Then you've got to find Martin. How? He must have taken an earlier flight from Paris. But how could he get the diamond through customs? I don't know. You know, Holiday, this looks like the end of Box 13 for you. Martin loses himself in a city of seven million, lays low and leaves you to take the rap. What if I find him? You'll still have to make him talk. You know I've never been mixed up in anything shady. Maybe I've been roped in because I follow things through, but never deliberately. What are you getting at? Well, you let me find Martin. How? You're our only link with him. And you don't know a thing about him. He could dye his hair, leave off his glasses... I know, I know, but if I don't find him, I'm in trouble, is that right? You've never been more right in all your life. All right, if I don't find him in 24 hours I'll walk back in here and you can do what you want with me. Is that a deal? You know, Holiday, when I was a kid, I always wanted to be a cop. My father wanted me to be a sign painter. Now I realize my father was a smart man. All right, go ahead. A needle in a haystack. I was hunting for it and it was a pretty sharp needle. Any character who could think up a frame as neat as this one would be tough to locate if he was still in town. But I had to go ahead. It took me two hours to remember something that would help me. Seven hours more to follow it up and an hour to get hold of Irene Carson and take her with me. Then call clean and give him the setup. It was later that night that I knocked on a door. Telegram from Mr. Benjamin Slade. One moment, please. Hello, Martin. I used to be a salesman and I'm good at sticking my foot in doors. Who are you? I've come to take a look in your cupboard, Mr. Martin. My name is Slade, Benjamin Slade. So, you did dye your hair. And you're much prettier without glasses. I have never seen you before in my life. Yes, but I've seen too much of you. Come on, Slade, or Martin, give it up, will you? What brought you here? One of your peculiar cigarettes. I remembered I tried to smoke one when I first met you. You're insane. You went to your fake office in Warbash Place. There was an ashtray with some cigarette butts still in it. It took me seven hours to run down a dealer who makes your cigarettes. Clever. But I still deny ever having seen you before in my life. Oh, OK, let's try something else. Come in, please, will you? Martin, this is Ms. Carson. Our stewardess on the trip over, remember? Ms. Carson, is this the man who gave you the letter to give to me? Yes, that's the man. Oh, oh, oh. Slip's counting this game, Martin. Besides your handwriting in the letter can be identified. You're too much too clever. Duck, Ms. Carson! OK, Martin, without a gun, you're just another sitting duck. Now get up and come on. How did Mr. Martin get the diamond over here? He was too smart for that, Susie. He left it in Paris. He got out and planned to return later. The Paris police have found it. You know, he was pretty silly. Silly? Oh, how'd you figure that out, Susie? Well, a million dollars. Jeepers, look at all the income tax he'd have to pay on it. Huh? Oh, good night, Susie. Next week, same time, Alan Ladd stars as Dan Holiday in Box 13. Alan Ladd appears through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures. What form in his latest picture? Saigon. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sandbell with an original story by Saul Shore adapted for radio by Russell Hughes. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager. The part of Susie is played by Sylvia Picker and Lieutenant Kling by Edmund MacDonald. Production is supervised by Vern Carstensen. This is a Mayfair production from Hollywood.