 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 Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. Signal Gear! Signal, the famous Go Farther gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. For extra driving pleasure, the signal to look for is the yellow and black circle sign that identifies signal service stations from Canada to Mexico. And for Sunday evening listening pleasure, the signal to listen for is this whistle that identifies the Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. I'm 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 Signal Oil Company, The Whistler's strange story. Strange meeting. The questioning was over and the prefect of police was smiling triumphantly. He no longer regretted leaving his bed and hurrying through the rain swept streets of Paris to the tiny prison on the outskirts of the city. There was little doubt of the suspect's guilt in connection with the death in an abandoned building just off the rule aboard. A policeman had caught the man running from the scene of the crime. The murder weapon had been found in his pocket. Paraphan tests had shown that he'd fired the gun. Ballistics proved the bullet found in the victim had been fired from the suspect's gun. But there was more to the case. A great deal more. From the facts he'd already learned, the prefect could trace the beginning of the incident back to the seemingly routine arrival of a commercial plane from Lisbon earlier in the week. The plane was late as it circled the field, so was the hour. And the landing field looked very inviting to Wally Frazier, freelance news photographer and almost anything else that would bring him a welcome dollar. He was pleased that the trip was over. Paris meant rest and relaxation to him. There was another reason too, a very attractive reason seated just across the aisle. Wally had tried to strike up an acquaintance with a girl early in the trip, but because of her cold and different stares, he'd given up. As the plane landed and taxied to a stop at the unloading ramp, he received a startling surprise. He was picking up his camera when she hesitated at the door of the plane, turned and grabbed him. Oh, darling, I'm sorry. It's goodbye. What? But... Until we meet again. Excuse me, I have to go. Hey, wait a minute. Hey, did you see that, mister? All the way from Lisbon the dame won't let out a peep and then she rushes up and kisses me. It is the effect of the city, monsieur. Paris, the gay, the exciting. What do I ever leave? Excuse me, monsieur. Excuse me, I got to go after her. You hurry through the crowd after the girl, reach the passenger waiting room. She's nowhere inside, is she, Wally? You've lost her. You're still annoyed and wondering as you claim your baggage and arrange for it to be sent to your hotel. Outside, you hail a cab. Hotel Metropole, driver. Oui, monsieur. Wait a minute. There she is. I see her. Ah, oui. Wait, monsieur. What is wrong? The young lady, her companions, they are the police. Police? Oui. And they are taking her in the car. Do you wish to follow your friend, monsieur? Or is it still the hotel? Ah, it's the hotel. Oui. I'm tired. I've been in enough trouble the past few weeks. Oui, monsieur. Come on. Don't you think I mean it? I said the hotel. Oui, monsieur. You know best. But you can't get the girl out of your mind, can you, Wally? In the taxi cab and after you arrive at the hotel, her face haunts you. An only complete weariness keeps you from lying awake, thinking about it further. The next morning, she's completely out of your mind, until you make the discovery. The envelope in the pocket of your overcoat. Even as you tear it open, you know that she must have put it there during that moment when she kissed you and then ran off. The envelope contains a negative of some kind, doesn't it? But it's nothing like anything that you use in your work, is it, Wally? Your curiosity aroused, you go downstairs for a quick breakfast, make an inquiry at the hotel desk, and then walk several blocks to a small laboratory across the street from a medical building. A weary, seemingly disinterested lab attendant gives you the answer. An X-ray, monsieur. This is what this is. Just ordinary, X-ray? That is right. Here. I will see what it is. Put it on the light frame. A skull. A man's head. This man has some sort of a plate in his head, you see? Would that be his name there in the corner? No, no. That is the name of the doctor who made the X-ray. Salazar. It looks like Dr. Salazar. Also, the date he took it. You were saying? Nothing. Excuse me for a minute, will you? I'll be right back. Yeah, sure. You stare after the attendant curiously as he steps out of the room. There was an odd expression on his face, wasn't there, Wally? Very odd. You move after him quietly, open the door to the adjoining office, and hear him dialing the phone. Allo, allo. Police. Vite. Police. You whirl on the attendant's words, crossed the room, and hastily removed the X-ray film from the frame and put it in your pocket. As you start to leave, the attendant blocks your way. And now, as I was saying, Mr. I'm sorry, Jack. Everything's been said. Everything but this. Now I'll look into this little deal that's so interesting to the police. Tonight's $20 signal gasoline book goes to Margaret Lynn Clare of Oakland, California for this limerick. Gasoline bills had me near disaster, and my budget I just couldn't master. Then to signal I switched, now my troubles are ditched, for signal goes farther and faster. Signal, signal, signal gasoline. Your car will go far, but go for the gasoline. A smart young lady, that driver in tonight's limerick, she knows what more and more drivers discover when they switch to signal that mileage and performance are like Siamese twins, for you find one, you find the other. So whether you're looking for quick cold weather starting for flashing pickup or for smooth, quiet power, just remember you find all the things that make driving more pleasure. When you fill up with signal, the famous go farther gasoline. It's interesting to you too, isn't it, Wally? This strange matter of the X-ray film, so interesting to the Paris police. It began when you stepped off the plane from Lisbon. You know that it somehow connected with a mysterious girl who kissed you and then hurried away to try and lose herself in the crowd at the airport. You're sure that she planted the X-ray film in your pocket, but you don't know why or what it means. It's enough to send the lab attendant scurrying to his telephone and then trying to prevent you from leaving his office. You don't like it. And back in your hotel there's something more that you don't like. The appearance of your room. It's been ransacked from floor to ceiling and everything is a shambles. You stare around you wondering, and then here's someone go past in the hall outside. By the time you can open the door and look out, she's reached the end of the hall. But it's the same girl, isn't it, Wally? The same girl who kissed you on the plane. You're sure she didn't see you. So you race down the lobby in time to see her leave the hotel and enter another one directly across the street. There she puts through a call on one of the room phones in the lobby. Unnoticed you stand close by, hide behind a newspaper and listen. Room 812, please. Yes, thank you. Hello? Hello, Mr. Sidney. This is Marta Varni. I just arrived. What? Oh, then you read about it. Yes, that end of it is closed. Dr. Salazar won't end the fear with us. No, I haven't got it with me right now. I only wanted you to know I was here and that we'll be able to make the deal soon. Yes, I'll get in touch with you. Goodbye, Mr. Sidney. Oh, sorry if I kept you waiting for this phone. Hello, honey. You're trying to be surprised, huh? If you don't mind, I... I do mind. You're not going any place. That is, not until we talk. There's nothing to talk about, Mr.... Frasier, the few friends I have call me Wally. That's fine, Mr. Frasier. Oh, you don't want to be friendly, huh? Well, I'm not surprised, not after the way you tore my room up. Uh, this is what you were looking for? Give that to me. Oh, no, no, not so fast. Isn't anything? It's just a negative of a picture of my aunt. She's 73 years old. And likes to tell fairy tales just like you. No, honey, I take pictures for a living, and this is an x-ray. All right. But it still belongs to my aunt. Oh, sure, sure. You don't give up easy. But you wouldn't. Not when you can think fast enough to get rid of it the way you did when the police showed up. The police? Uh-huh. I saw him take you away at the airport. Now, come on. Tell Uncle Wally what it's all about, huh? Who's noggin' if we got a picture of? And what happened to dear old Dr. Salazar? Will you give it back to me? Uh, maybe. Come on. The bar's a good place to talk. But I've already told you, Mr. Fasier. The x-ray film was given to me. I was instructed to bring it here to Paris. But it's very important to you and the police. Or you wouldn't have slipped it into my pocket when you saw the cops. Yes. It's important. Why? Why is it important? Because, well, you're a stranger here. So I might as well tell you the truth. Good. It proves that a man named Dugaine is still alive. Dugaine? Yes. Francis former public enemy number one. An international swindler, gangster, a murderer. He was believed to have died in explosion some years ago. And just how does an x-ray prove he's alive? The silver platenous skull? Yes, the design is so unusual. It's as if the surgeon who performed the operation had placed his signature on it. No other one like it, huh? Nowhere in the world. The case was written up in medical journals many times. There were photographs of the Dugaine x-ray. I checked Dr. Salazar's x-ray against them very carefully. There's no mistaking it. Okay. And now that you've stopped telling fairy tales, how did you get hold of the x-ray? There was an automobile accident in Lisbon three weeks ago. A man unconscious was taken into a Dr. Salazar's office. I... I was the doctor's assistant. And he took the x-ray. Only Dugaine didn't know about it. He knows now. I see. The shakedown. He pays off, or the x-ray goes to the cops. That's neat. That's very neat. That x-ray ought to be worth a lot of dough. That's right. How much is Dugaine good for? My contact with Mr. Dugaine says Dugaine is a very wealthy, respected citizen now. Uh-huh. What name does Dugaine go under? Nobody knows that except my contact. How do you get in touch with Dugaine? If I knew, Mr. Frazier, do you think me foolish enough to tell you? No. But, uh, maybe your partner could. Pardon? Your contact, Mr. Sidney. Mr. Sidney? Yeah, I overheard you talking to Mr. Sidney on the phone just now. Oh, I see. Look, sweetheart, we got a good deal here, except for one thing. How do we get to this guy Dugaine? You think you could persuade Mr. Sidney to give you that information? What do you have in mind, Mr. Frazier? What should deal with Sidney? What percentage? I'd you like to split 50-50? We could cut off Mr. S, set up a partnership of our own, the two of us. That would be dangerous. Our partnership? No. Eliminating Mr. Sidney. No, we could try. Yes, we could. Well, how about it? I don't know. Take it over, Marta. In the meantime, I'll just hold on to the film. You can give me your answer tonight at dinner. Oh. Yeah, I'm sure there's a quiet little place just around the corner, candlelight, good wines, excellent food. There always is in Paris. All right. Oh, and another thing. How do you know Dr. Salazar won't remember those medical magazine articles about Dugaine and the Platonist skull? Dr. Salazar is dead. An accident? Yes. What kind of an accident? He was killed with a pair of scissors. Why do you ask? No reason. I just wondered. Mr. Sidney, this is your new partner. Well, we're in business, Mr. Sidney, the two of us, with an X-ray film. Do you think Mr. Dugaine will be interested? He will be. Definitely, sir. Good. Then let's talk. From the lobby now, I think we could talk better in your room. Come in, sir. Come in. Did I interrupt a game of solitaire? They're quite all right, sir. Quite all right. I was born. In Paris? Sit down. Sit down. Thank you. Brandy? Yes, thanks. You're an American? Oh, better than that. I'm a native of Dallas. Oh, you now? Well, well. Water, Mr.... Don't ruin the brandy. The name is Frasier, Wally Frasier. There you are, sir. Thank you. Now, Mr. Frasier. Well, let's get right to the point, huh? Precisely, sir, to the point. To shake down Citizen Dugaine, you'll need a certain X-ray. Right? May I ask, sir, how did you come to know... You're a partner, Miss Varney. She told me all of that. Oh, I see. Don't blame her too much. She didn't mean to tell me anything. The pressure was on. She had to get rid of the X-ray temporarily. Good thing she did. The cops would have grabbed her. Yes. Yes, go on, Mr. Frasier. What else did she tell you? Well, uh, not much more. That's the trouble. So you want to do business with me? Right. We, uh, cut Maravani out of the deal split at, uh, 50-50? I'm afraid it's not that simple, sir. Miss Varney could be dangerous. Oh? If we were to, as you put it, cut her out of the deal. She might very well get word to Dugaine. She knows how to get to Dugaine? Of course. Oh, I see. She told you she didn't. Yeah. So that's why you came to me. I'm glad you did, Mr. Frasier. So am I. Now? You don't trust women, do you? Not since I was in high school. I let a sophomore borrow my yo-yo, and she tied a knot in the string. Mr. Frasier. Yeah. When can I have the X-ray film? Uh, so that you set up the contact with Dugaine? We'll go to the payoff together. Fair enough. In the meantime, however... There's Marta Varney. Precisely, sir. We have a good thing here. Big payoff. Mr. Dugaine can well afford to pay enough for that X-ray to keep us for years. But he's also a killer. We must be careful. Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. But, uh, how do we cut Miss Varney out of the deal? We can't be squeamish, sir. After all, Miss Varney is a murderous, kill-doctor Salazar, you know. Yeah, she did, didn't she? Uh, how do we do it? How it's done isn't important, Mr. Frasier. We'll leave that up to the one who does the job, eh? What? Well, no, no, wait a minute. One of us must do it, Mr. Frasier. Well, yes, but I... We'll cut for the honor, sir. That's fair, is it not? Well, I don't know. Well, Mr. Frasier, you said we were partners. Cut. Well, sir? Okay. Queen. Hmm-hmm. Seven of diamonds. Well, it's up to me, sir. I shall arrange a meeting with the girl tonight. Uh, Miss Varney and I are going to dinner together. Excellent. Where? Julian. Good. After dinner, you will take a stroll along the Rue de Celestin toward the river. The street becomes narrow, dark, a block beyond the Carousel. I will be there. Okay. A block beyond America, Ralph. But, uh, Mr. Sidney, don't try pulling it fast. When if anything happens to be, you'll never get that, X-ray. I won't have it with me. Naturally not, Mr. Frasier. I assure you are much too careful. How are we going, Mr. Frasier? No place in particular. Huh? Thought a stroll would do us both good after dinner like the one we've had. It was excellent. Though I must say you were rather quiet through it all. Uh, what's that? Things on your mind. Uh, yeah, yeah. You haven't asked me yet if I've decided about our partnership. Well, I hate to discuss business at dinner. I see. Oh, look up ahead. It's merry-go-round. Shall we, Mr. Frasier? Marta. Hmm? How about that partnership? Well, I thought it over very carefully, Mr. Frasier. Very carefully. Let's turn back. We've got to talk. There's nothing to talk about, really. Let's go on. I want to see the river. No, forget it. I insist, Mr. Frasier. Hey, wait a minute. What? That's a gun in my coat pocket, Wally, darling. I won't hesitate to pull the trigger. So that's your answer. It is. I have decided not to enter a partnership with you. Refer to take your cut with Mr. Sidney? Wrong again. I'm not spitting anything with him, either. Oh. Going all out on your own, huh? That's it, Wally. That's exactly it. Now, shall we continue, Astro? Okay. Hmm. Uh, aren't you forgetting one thing? You can't make a deal with Dugaine unless you have the X-ray. I intend to get it from you. You think I'm carrying it around in my hatband? I know where it is. I followed you this afternoon, so you put it in a postal box. You will give me the key, won't you? Will I? Of course. If you don't, I'll simply take it. And then what happens? I wind up in the river? Perhaps. I haven't decided yet. Keep walking, Mr. Frasier. Straight ahead. It's ironic, isn't it, Wally? At the point of a gun, Marta forces you to walk a block beyond the carousel. Straight into the trap, you and Mr. Sidney had planned for her. Suddenly, Mr. Sidney steps out of the darkness. There's a flash of the knife. And Marta Varney lies dead at your feet. You stare down at her and then feel a tugging at your sleeve. You turn and hurry away with Mr. Sidney. And then later, in a small bar, he explains the next movement. I have already made the arrangement, sir. We will meet Mr. Dugain's courier in half an hour, just off the ruler board. The ruler board, huh? Okay. You sure he's got it straight? He has, sir. When we meet, you ought to give him the key to the postal box where the X-ray is. In return, he will hand over the money. Right. I sort of like that arrangement, don't you, Mr. Sidney? The cautious approach. All around protection. Quite right, sir. Shall we drink up? You smile back at Mr. Sidney as you raise your glass. He doesn't know what's in store for him, does he? Once you have completed the transaction with Dugain's courier and gotten the money, you know that you can take care of Sidney and have all the money for yourself. You find you're not the least bit sorry about having to kill him. Perhaps it's because of Marta Varney. His disposing of her the way that he did. Yes. Somehow that makes it easier for you to kill him. To us, Mr. Fraser. To our partnership and to many years of good living on Mr. Dugain's money. To us, Mr. Sidney. And to Mr. Dugain. And now, how about keeping our appointment with new Dugain's courier, huh? If you've looked at the new 1950 automobiles, you've noticed such extra convenience features as automatic transmissions, air conditioning systems, and seats that recline or make into a bed. It's the trend of really modern products to serve you in additional ways beyond what is primarily expected of them. Just as Signal Premium compounded motor oil now does so much more than just lubricate. Of course, Signal Premium has 100% pure paraffin base. The finest oil money can buy. But in addition, Signal Premium contains scientific compounds that do extra jobs inside your motor. Extra jobs that oil alone could never do. A one compound, for instance, actually cleanses your motor of harmful carbon. A second compound prevents the formation of gum and varnish. And still another compound in Signal Premium guards expensive bearings against corrosion. So you can see that if you want to keep your motor young, the place to get your next oil change is a Signal service station. Change to the modern type signal oil that does so much more than just lubricate. Change to Signal Premium compounded motor oil. The questioning was over and the prefect of police was smiling triumphantly as he handed the signed murder confession and a postal box key to one of his assistants. After the prisoner had been led away, the prefect waited patiently for his assistant to return with the contents of the postal box. Then upon his return, the prefect examined the x-ray and smiled with satisfaction. He then pulled his coat about him and stepped out into the rainy streets of Paris and hurried back to his house. And there, standing before the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back. He unfolded the story to his wife as she prepared his morning coffee. Finally, the narrative over, he sat down at the table. Just think our thoughts. Three killings over an x-ray, blackmail. When will these fools learn when? But, René, how was it the killer confessed so quickly? It was his only hope for leniency. After all, we caught him running from the scene of the crime. Ballistics proved his gun fired the shot. His only hope of avoiding the guillotine was to cooperate with the police. Then this American, this Monsieur Frazer... Never found out the truth. Monsieur Sidney killed him before Frazer had a chance to learn that Monsieur Sidney and Eugene are one, the same person. The x-ray film found in the postal box proves it beyond any doubt. Let that whistle be your signal for the Signal Oil Program, the Whistler, each Sunday night at this same time. Brought to you by the Signal Oil Company, marketers of signal gasoline and motor oil, and fine automotive accessories. Remember, if you would like the fun of having your friends hear a limerick of yours on the Whistler, the address to which to send it is the Signal Oil Company, Los Angeles 55, California. All limericks become the property of the Signal Oil Company. Those selected for use on the Whistler will be chosen by our advertising representatives on the basis of humor, suitability, and originality. So, of course, they must be your own composition. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, William Conrad, Betty Lou Gerson, and John Hoyt. 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. This is Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.