 Signal gasoline. Let every traffic signal remind you, you do go farther with Signal Gasoline. Yes, you do go farther with Signal. The Signal Oil Company and your neighborhood signal dealer bring you another curious story by the Whistler. Tonight, what makes a murderer? 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 see. Murder is a peculiar affair. All it needs in many cases is the right pressure, the right set of circumstances, the right opportunity, and an otherwise respectable member of the community becomes a killer. If you tried to explain that to Arthur Winslow, he wouldn't have understood. If you told him he was in a fair way to become a murderer in a few months, he would have looked at you strangely. For Arthur was respectable, solid, exactly like a hundred thousand other respectable, solid Jersey commuters. His life was a pretty drab affair. Part of it was the office. J. Simmons and company investment broke it. Seven and an eight, no change. American tell-and-tell, one seventy-nine and an eight, off an eight. AT&T, one seventy-nine and an eight, off an eight. American tobacco, seventy-seven, up one. Seventy-seven, up one. Better leave it there, Arthur. Five o'clock, gotta make that five nineteen. Why? Why do we have to make the five nineteen, Stanley? Why? Why Arthur? Because we always do. Why is that a good reason? What? I mean, do you think because we've always made the five nineteen that we ought to keep on making it the rest of our lives? It's something wrong, Arthur. Maybe, I don't know. I've been thinking, Stanley. But ten years now, you and I have been analyzing investment securities, eight hours a day, catching the five nineteen every night, arriving home in East Orange promptly at six-twenty-two, kissing our wives at approximately six-fifty, eating dinner at exactly seven, reading the evening paper, and then going to bed. Well? Well, it's a little like death, isn't it, Stanley? What in the world got into you, Arthur? I've got a book here. Take a look. A book? That's a novel. Got me to thinking. Moon and six pins. It's about a man like us, Stanley. A man who got fed up with the five nineteen and dished the whole works. Well, what did he do? Took a chance. He walked out, just picked up his hat and went off to the South Sea. You mean he just left his family? They preferred the five nineteen. Well, I can't say that I approve. Oh, I didn't think you were. Well, you better hurry along, Stanley. You miss your train. Yes, but what about you? Well, tonight, just for a change, I believe I'll catch the five fifty-five. Just for a change, Arthur, after ten years, you walk slowly down Broad Street, deliberately casual, noticing the swarms of hurrying commuters objectively. And for the first time, it's pleasant strolling along like this, taking your time, stopping to look in a window now and then. Finally, you stop at a cigar stand. Have you got a pack of cigarettes? Well, if you can smoke them. Here. Eighteen cents. Twenty-five and fifty. Thanks, yeah. Say, what's that back there? Oh, you interested in the band-tales? Band-tales. Horses. Opening a pimp to go to Mark. Hey, come here. Sure. Now there's the board. Take your pick. Carry it out in this pile. Pink lady. Mike the Third. Big banana. Moon and sixpence. Hey, what's that? Moon and sixpence. Top horse in a parley. Don't know nothing about them, though. Parley, what's that? You don't know what a parley is? No, I don't know. Well, okay. Well, in that parley there, you've got three horses, see? Yeah. Now, you put your dough on blue bonnet in the first. If he comes in, the dough goes on blue worm in the second. If he comes in, the works rides on moon and sixpence. In the third. Get it? We interrupt this program. The B-29s are back in the war. The super-fortices, which have been the major factor in bringing Japan to her knees these past few weeks, have dropped high explosive and incendiary bombs on the Marifu Railroad Yard. The first purely rail target to be hit in Japan. There was no Jap fighter or flak opposition. It was the first heavy bombing Japan has received since last Saturday, the 11th. And during the three days that the very heavy bombers have rested at their bases, the diplomats have taken over to consider Japan's reluctant offer to surrender. However, the diplomats haven't done so well. If the tension here in the Pacific is any standard of judgment, the Japs have succeeded in conducting a fairly effective war of nerves against us by their failure to reply to the Allies. So now, General Spopp's strategic bombers are back over Japan dropping explosive reminders to the Nipponese people they had better surrender or else. It is a feeling here that the super-forts were sent to Japan as an outright prod for Hirohito and his ministers to make up their minds. If they don't, Japan can expect more of the same treatment. As a matter of fact, today's bombing is continuing right now. More and more bombers are over the Jap homeland, and the bombs away signal will come back to Guam many more times today. The Marifu rail yards and shops were hit by the 313th wing of the 20th Air Force based Antinium. Three B-29 groups crafted the area with high explosive bombs. The rail yards form one of the most critical bottlenecks in the Japanese railroad system, serving as a double-track rail line that runs from Tokyo to Kobe and along the Inland Sea of Japan. Interruption of traffic on this line will first of all affect the Jap oil supply, and more important, it will affect the critical Jap food shortage already desperate in Japan's big cities. These strategic air forces are not playing tag in this operation. Japan right now is being hit and being hit hard. The process will continue until we receive that notification of unconditional surrender or rest it from the hands of the Emperor himself when we take his imperial castle in Japan itself. If they want it that way, that's the way they're going to get it. And this is Bill Downs and Guam returning you to CVS. That's it. That's almost the year's salary and you're holding it right in your hand. You just walk the streets for an hour or two, thinking, gradually realizing what happened. It can mean a new car, new dresses for Ethel, and more of the same. Or it can mean, yes, Arthur, if you took a chance, it's crazy, it's wild. But if you act before you think, you walk into a phone booth in the financial center lobby. The South Seas, no more figures, no more 519. Hello? Brighton travel agency? I'd like to inquire about a reservation to, let's see, to Florida. Yeah. The name? Oh, yes, the name is Charles White. There's good news for drivers in recent announcements that new cars are already in production. But there's bad news in the statement of defense transportation director J. M. Rowe Johnson that it will be at least three years before all the people who want new cars can get them. Three more years. That's a long time to make today's cars last, especially when the average car is already seven years old. It means that now more than ever, your car needs the more thorough, more conscientious kind of service you will find at Signal gasoline dealers. Yes, there's a very real difference in signal service and for two good reasons. You see, being in business for themselves, signal dealers have made car care their specialty. Their experience, they know cars. And two, because independent signal dealers are in that business not just for today, but permanently. To please you so well, you come back regularly and be their steady customer. Added up, that assures you the kind of service that will keep your car happy and you satisfied. The kind of service that makes it well worth your while, getting acquainted with your neighborhood signal gasoline dealer. And now, back to the whistler. Yes, murder can strike anywhere, even among quiet, drab little people like Arthur Winslow. He has no way of knowing it, of course, as he buys the first class reservation on the train to Florida. His only thought now is that this will be escaped at last new clothes, new luggage, a new name, and a new life. No 519 tonight, Arthur. It's the 730 to Florida and Waypoint. Oh, which way is the dining car, waiter? Yeah, the three cars back. Oh, thank you. Oh, sorry. That's quite all right. I wasn't looking. Where is it? The book. I knocked it out of your hand. Must be down here on the floor. No, let me see. Oh, I bumped my head. Look at the gum under here. What did you get it? Last year's time table. Wait a minute, there it is. Under the seat. Here we are. Fine thing getting yourself all dusty that way. Turn around. Oh, thanks. There we are. That's a little better anyway. Wonderful, isn't it? I loved it. Oh, yes, I haven't quite finished it, of course. Do you believe it? I mean, do you think it's right? You mean to toss everything over and take off for the South Seas? If you don't mind, pal, while you're going to the South Seas, I'll go to dinner. Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We seem to be holding up traffic. Matter of fact, I was just going into dinner myself. So was I. Uh, well, would you consider... Why not? Yes, why not? No, I think Moon and Sixpence was a wonderful story. Of course, I can't say it was very realistic. Oh, what do you mean? Well, I admit it was convincing, but when you stop to think about it, it's just running away business. Oh, you don't believe in it, huh? Well, running away is no solution. Well, sometimes there's, uh, nothing else to do. He could have stuck it out. You mean licked it if it took the rest of his life? Yes. Well, all right. All right, he licked it. He found happiness at last, and he's seven. Mm-hmm. Is that all there is to life? Well, I haven't seen too much of it yet. I know it sounds cowardly, but I think there are times when sticking it out for 20 years is wrong. Time doesn't wait, you know. Your heads against the wall, day in, day out, were tied down to a deadly routine. And then the first thing you know, it's too late. Oh, I think running away is better than that, don't you? I did once. Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to... Oh, that's all right. That's quite all right. You see, I did run away. It was just as you said. It was routine, a deadly routine. And when I couldn't stand it any longer, I ran away. Well, what kind of routine was it? Well, perhaps you've heard of my father, Edgar Brewster. Edgar Brewster? Uh-huh. He's in Miami Beach now, waiting for me. Oh, I see. I'd finally decided to go back and face it, but, uh... Oh, dear. Now you've got me confused again. Oh, I'm sorry if I don't know. Oh, don't misunderstand. You've really helped me a lot. How do you mean? Well, you seem to know why I did it. It's a kind of moral support. Oh. You're going to Miami? Oh, by the way, I'm Charles White. I'm Vivian Brewster. Well, perhaps, uh... Perhaps I'll see you in Miami, huh? I hope so. Yes, so do I. The daughter of Edgar Brewster. It's fantastic, isn't it, Arthur? You talked with her, had dinner with her. She even said she hoped you'd meet in Miami. But the first week goes by and the hotel sat on the shore looking across this cane bay. It's beautiful. But you aren't conscious of anything except Vivian. You wait for a call, but it doesn't come. You begin to realize how ridiculous it is. Of course, she's forgotten about you. You were just someone to talk to, a traveling companion. You can't hide the jersey commuter under that palm v. suit. And then... Hello? Oh, hello. I'd like to speak to Miss Vivian Brewster. Speaking? Oh. This is Charles White. Well, hello, Mr. White. I thought you'd forgotten me by this time. Oh, no, not at all. I thought we might have a drink together or something. Well, why don't you come out? Meant to your house? Of course. Father would love to meet you. Your father? Yes. What about it? When? Oh, tonight. All right. Tonight. Well, Arthur, you can hardly believe it, can you? A few days ago, an obscure clerk. Today, sitting with Edgar Brewster drinking his bourbon. Is that about right, Mr. White? Father's a tightwad with his soda. Outrageous way to treat good bourbon. What about it, White? Oh, that looks about right, Mr. Brewster. There you are. Oh, thank you. What are you doing in Marma, White? Why, I just got a little tired of New York. You get the right idea. I did the same thing myself 20 years ago and never went back. What's your land? Well, I was in the market, more or less. Yeah, the less, the better these days. Nobody knows where it's going. Hard to figure these war babies. I, Broker, and I were talking today about consolidated plastics. You know anything about it? Yes, a little. What do you think of it? Well, I don't know whether I should say or not. What's the matter with it? After all, it's your business, Mr. Brewster. I don't think I'd get off an opinion. Oh, all right. I'll put it this way. What would you do if you were into it pretty heavily right now? Well, I'd sell out. When? Right now. Any particular reason? Only that I happen to know that stock is being manipulated by an inside ring, that it'll take the securities and exchange commission about six months to catch up with them. Boy, that's unbelievable. I broke it, too. I know. It's only my opinion, Mr. Brewster, but I happen to know that company's financial position. You asked me what I'd do, and I just told you. You seem to know what you're talking about. Investments are my hobby, you might say. I see. May I say something now? Oh, sorry, dear. I forgot you were still with us. I thought so. Now that you've settled the stock market problem, suppose we get down to the club. The water should be beautiful tonight. What about it? I afraid it's past my bedtime, dear. You two run along. It's for no duck like me, anyhow. Well, Mr. White? Well, Mr. Brewster? What are you waiting for? Get out of here. I'm going to bed. And that was the beginning, wasn't it, Arthur? That $1,800 was a magic door opening up a thrilling new life for you, an incidentally bringing you closer to murder. The next three weeks pass like a dream, more nights at the beach club dancing in the open under the stars with Vivian in your arms. Vivian? Yes? Vivian, why is it that you've never asked me about myself, my background, where I came from? Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it doesn't matter. You know, I wasn't going to tell you, but I think perhaps I'd better. Will it make any difference? About us? Yes. Uh-huh. Yes, it will make a difference. It'll make a lot of difference. Well, then don't tell me. I really don't want to know. No, but Vivian, you... Please. Darling. Darling, did I ever tell you I... I like you very much. I'm glad, Charles. I'm so glad. You were in love, Arthur, and for the first time in your life you knew what it really was. Mr. Brewster began to concern you. He'd never approved in a million years. Or you thought so until that evening he dropped up to your hotel room with a copy of the financial journal in his hand. Look at that, Charles. What is it? Don't ask silly questions. Look at it, man. I thought so. Consolidated plastics, note under, and selling rush. I'm sorry, Mr. Brewster. I am not. Oh, what do you mean? I took your advice. Sold out three weeks ago. I saved myself $100,000. Well, congratulations. Don't congratulate me. You're the one who deserves it. You might have I said... Of course not. Here you are. Thank you. Would you be open to a proposition? What kind of proposition? I realize you probably have other interests, but I could make it with you while I think. There are two considerations. The first is the plain fact that my affairs are getting a little beyond me. As you know, I'm retired and haven't time to look after them properly. I think you're the man to take over. But, Mr. Brewster... I'm a businessman. If it weren't profitable deal for me, I wouldn't think of it. I see. What's the other consideration? I believe you're aware of that already. Vivian, you approve? I do. May I have time to think this over? Of course. Just let me know in a day's room. There it is, Arthur. Breathe into the point. Everything you ever wanted right in the palm of your hand. Open sesame, he said, and there it was. You go into the bar downstairs to think. There's only one thing in your way now. Ethel. You can't run away from that. You've got to make her see your side of it. You've got to go back to her and face it. Make her give you a divorce. You walk out of the bar, through the door, into the hotel lobby. And just as you're rounding the corner by the desk, something stops you in the trunk. There you are. Mrs. Ethel Winslow, 5769 Laurel Road, East Orange, New Jersey. Is that all you want? Thank you, Madam. Could I see the register, please? I'm sorry, Madam, but we don't... Well, I understand there's a Charles flight registered here. Charles? Oh, yes, Madam. Room 132. Is he a friend? Yes. Will this help? Well, in that case, I could give you room 131 next door. The windows open onto the same balcony. Oh, very well. 131. It was too good to last, aren't they? Just a beautiful dream, and you're just waking up. It's all over. Go back in the bar and think. Ethel, your wife here, she's found you. And she'll never let you go, will she? You know her too well, Arthur. Cold, calculating heartless. She'd laugh at you, wouldn't she? Yes, sir. Well, it'd be bourbon straight. Right. And just leave the bottle. You're beginning to see now, Arthur, what makes a murderer. You couldn't get away from her. Just as Vivian said, you can't solve anything by running away. All you get is a build-up to nothing. Whoever made you think you could talk her into a divorce. There's no other way out, is there, Arthur? You sit in the friendly darkness of the bar all afternoon, late into the evening, thinking, thinking. It's almost 11 when you make up your mind. There's a phone booth near the door. Hello? Hello. Hello, Vivian. Vivian, I have to talk to you. It's important. What child? What's the matter? Never mind. Just listen to me, Vivian. Just listen. I'm a phony. My name is Arthur Winslow. I was running away when you met me on the train. I'm just an investment clerk. I have no money. I have nothing. Just $1,800. I want on a horse race. Listen, Vivian, I got a wife in East Orange, New Jersey. I've hated her for 10 years. I'd rather be dead than go back to her. I'm not going back to her. I'm telling you this, Vivian, because I love you more than I ever dreamed I could love anyone. And I probably won't ever see you again. Bye, Vivian. 11 o'clock, Arthur. You've got it all planned. Ethel is asleep in her room, room 131. A balcony connected with yours. It's easy, isn't it, Arthur? Yes, there she is. And she's asleep. You take a firm hold on the heavy brass candlestick you picked up from the mantel in your room. A blunt instrument the police will say. You can hardly breathe, Arthur. Your stomach is full of ice water. You feel your heart's going to burst. Careful, Arthur, careful. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending of tonight's story. Meantime, a word about teeth and tires. They have a good deal in common, you know. For the good of your teeth, you see your dentist twice a year so he can catch small cavities before they grow big and endanger the tooth. And for the good of your tires, it's important to have your signal gasoline dealer inspect them regularly so any small injuries can be repaired before they spread and ruin the carcass. Or so he can warn you before your tread is worn too thin for proper retreading. You'll find your signal gasoline dealer is completely equipped to give you the finest in modern tire repair, whether it's a small patch or a full recap. For those friendly dealers displaying signals, yellow and black circle signs, are much more than just a place to get signal go farther gasoline and find signal double check lubrication. Each signal dealer offers a complete line of automotive services and fine accessories to help your car run better, look better, and last longer. Now, back to the Whistler. No, Arthur, when the cars were down, you couldn't do it. The wife you hated for ten years at your mercy and you couldn't do it. But you came close enough to see what makes a murderer. And now you're standing over her. I can't. I can't do it. I'm sorry, Ethelite. I'm sorry I woke you up. Turn the bike on. Don't stand there. Yes, Ethel. Hand me my other slipper. Yes, Ethel. You thought you could get by with it, didn't you? No, Ethel, I... Don't deny it, I know what's been going on and I can prove it, you philanderer. Ethel, I tell you... What did you say? I have a complete report on your activities for the last month. You weren't very clever, Arthur. The detectives say you left a trail of child to follow. What are you getting at, Ethel? Help! Help! Someone knocking on your door. A woman. Ethel, come back. Where are you going? This door, Miss Brewster. Hello, Vivian. A pretty picture and you have the crust to ask me what I'm getting at. I've known about Miss Brewster all along. In fact, we've had a little talk. And for your information, Arthur, I'm leaving for Reno in the morning. In view of what's happening, I don't think you'll feel it's wise to contest the case. Contest it? We? Mr. Dinwiddy and I? Mr. Dinwiddy. Mr. Dinwiddy. Arthur, what in the world were you doing with that brass candlestick? Next Monday at 9 o'clock, the Whistler will bring you another strange tale. The Whistler is broadcast for your entertainment by the marketers of signal, gasoline and motor oil, and fine quality automotive accessories and by your neighborhood signal dealer. This program, directed by George W. Allen with tonight's story by Everett Tomlinson and Harold Swanson, music by Wilbur Hatch, is transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking and suggesting that you let every traffic signal remind you that you do go farther with signal gasoline. Yes, you do go farther with signal. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.