 The signal oil program, the whistler, that whistle is your signal for 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. Yes, friends, it's time for the signal oil program, the whistler. Rated by independent research, the most popular West Coast program. In gasoline, you know, it takes extra quality to go farther. And signal is the famous go farther gasoline. So look for the signal circle sign in yellow and black that identifies signal service stations from Canada to Mexico. And now the whistler's strange story of presents for Ricky. The spotlight suddenly changed from white to a delicate blue. And the small nightclub orchestra slid into three-quarter time as the dance team began their walk. The Croydon, Clyde and Marie, had held top billing at the club for almost a year and it was well-deserved. Drinks stood unnoticed on the table. Conversation stopped. Everyone now was watching the Croydon, or rather believe Croydon. Slim, graceful, blue velvet Marie, smiling as she spun across the floor, poised for a moment, floated effortlessly back to Clyde's waiting arms. The customers love it. She's a beautiful thing. You know, Lay, this is the kind of first time look about it. They must be in love with the dance like that. Yes, there was a first time look about it. Even in the way they murmured to each other as they swayed gently together in three-quarter time. You're on your toes tonight, Angel. So are you. Why don't you try your own? Oh, now take it easy. I'd like to prop you up on another 10 or three. Yes, the customers love it. Clyde and Marie, husband and wife, quiet maturity and breathless youth. And at the same time, on the other side of the room, the theatrical agent named Stanley Craig praised the Croydon a little more critically. You like her, eh, Stan? The girl's good. She just needs a younger partner. The old boy slows her up. See what I mean? Look at that spin. The guy's just too old for her. He's killing the act. You wouldn't be fixing to cut him off at the ankle, would you? What do you mean? You just might be promoting that rumber expert you just picked up as her new partner. Name's Ricky, isn't it? What if I am? He's the boy who can do it. He's young like. He's got a looks on you. See what I mean? Get it over with. Get what over with? Your nightly speech, that crack you made out on the floor. Oh, man. Yes, that. Like my hair this way, Clyde. I'm waiting, Marie. Well, forget it. I want to go through it all again now. Look, I think it's time we had it out. Listen, Clyde, why try to kid you up? You know it can't go on like this. Oh, I don't know. We just got a pretty good hand. You mean I got a good hand? You may as well admit it. I don't think that's quite fair. Well, it's true. I'm getting tired of cropping you up, covering up your fumbles, finding my heart in my mouth every time we go into a spin. Now wait a minute, Marie. You wait a minute. Maybe you're right. Maybe we'd better have it out right now. All right. What are you complaining about? When I picked you up, you were nothing. Get a bug champion of West Washington Heights. Why in five years? Don't give me that loyalty pitch. I've heard it before. You really want to talk about loyalty. Let's talk about your first night. I forgot about her and a hurry, didn't you? Sure. She was too old, slowing up the act. It doesn't matter to you then, did it? No. Sorry, baby. I got to get rid of you. I know it's tough, but it's show business. Off you go to Reno. What makes you think I'm getting old? You're 40, and that's your team. And incidentally, that's not just about him. They're talking about it in a place. Yes, who's talking about it? People who ought to know. Telling each other I'd be on top of I had a partner whose bones increased. Got someone in mind? I might have. Well, forget it. If you're thinking of teaming up with a new partner, you can save yourself a lot of trouble by getting it out of your head right now. You never were very good at a bluff. I'm not bluffing. As long as you dance professionally, my dear, you dance with me. Will I? I have no intention of letting you go, either as a partner or as a wife. You're smart. Without me, you wouldn't rate bottom billing at a third rate burlesque in Jersey City. No, that has nothing to do with it. All right, give me a better reason. Over there on the table. The roses. The roses. And the car. The same roses, the same cars. Night after night. Ricky. Who is Ricky, Marie? One of the customers. He likes my dancing. And is that all? So far. I think you're in love with him. I thought behind all this stuff about my dancing, isn't it? You love this guy. My dancing is just as good an excuse as any. Now, who is he? Ricky. The name is Ricky. What's his last name? None of your business at the moment. I think it is. He's a dancer, isn't he? Yeah, he's a dancer, and you might just as well end a third degree right there. No planning to team up with him, aren't you? What if I am? Who is he? What's his name? I won't say. Why? Because I don't want to involve him in your stupid jealousy, that's all. You won't get away with it, Marie. I won't let you. My career doesn't mean anything to you, that's all. Only when it affects mine. That's why you married him, for the effects I'd have on your career. You married me for the same reason? Well, maybe I see. But the reason he's gone now. I don't need you anymore, Carl. I need Ricky to handle a whole family, shall we? You wind up here another week, I'll finish up with you and then you can... Then I can find myself another partner. No, that'll take too long. I can't start all over again now. No, I guess I'll have to start at the other end with Ricky. I'll look him up tomorrow. You don't even know who he is. I have a pretty good idea who his agent is. That ought to get me somewhere. Stanley Craig, isn't it, Marie? What do you mean? Stanley Craig, theatrical agent. Who shouldn't bless his card on my desk? God, if you're doing something to Ricky, I'll... Oh. You do love him, don't you, Marie? Oh, that's nothing. For the last time, what's it going to mean? Ricky or me? I owe it to you. It's nothing you can do to me. This is our last. All right, Marie. That's all I wanted to know. With the prologue of the present for Ricky, the Signal Oil Company brings you another strange tale by the Whistler. But now a question. What gasoline is famous as the Go-Farther gasoline? But if you've lived out West any length of time at all, you know that Signal is the famous Go-Farther gasoline. Now naturally, we're mighty proud of that reputation, but even more so, we're mighty proud of the performance features in today's Signal gasoline that make signals good mileage possible. After all, it stands to reason that to get more mileage, a gasoline must help your motor run more efficiently, which explains why when we put amazingly increased power into today's Signal gasoline, you get not only quicker starting faster pickups and quieter, higher anti-knots, but also a bonus of extra mileage. That's why Signal says, look to your speedometer for the best proof of gasoline quality. It takes extra quality to go farther. Good reason why so many drivers are switching to Signal, the famous Go-Farther gasoline. And now, back to the Whistler. He means what he says. You know her that well. And you wonder if what he said was true that without her, you're nothing. You think about it all the next day, particularly late in the afternoon as you sit in a bar on 58th Street, talking to Joey Lauter, a nightclub columnist. You try and concentrate on what he's saying, but it's no use. And then finally, you decide to feel him out on it. Joey's your friend. He ought to tell you the truth. This local walks into the old Morocco right up to the bar, this is Joey. Listen, I don't mean to interrupt, but... Well, you've got your mind on something else. You don't have to tell me. Well, it's about Marie. She's such a kid. She can dance. That's what I'm wondering, Joey. You think she's right for me? What are you talking about right for you? She's terrific, I wonder. I taught her all she ever knew. The kid's getting a little bit cocky. You and me? Well, sure, sure, Ty. I've been thinking it might do me good to work with a new partner. What do you think, huh? You want a straight? Yes, I want a straight. You're crazy. Fun, you think, Ty. I wouldn't give you a lot of malarkey. You'd better get that idea out of your head right now. What? The two of you together are a great team, you find? But... But what? Don't you never make it alone, Ty. Not on the top joints. You see, the customers are paying to see Marie. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know Joey. Well, thanks. No more top billing plans. No more expensive nightclubs. No more polite applause from the cafe society club. No more 1500 a week. Nothing now but a speed on the sideline. While Marie and this little... Drift across ballroom floors. On and up to the top. You can't face it, can you, Clyde? It's more than you can take. That's why early the next morning you leave your apartment by the private elevator. Twenty minutes later you walk up a flight of creaky stairs to Stanley Craig's office in the West Court. Yes, sir, what can I do? Stanley Craig, that's me, Phillip Chipp. I've had quite a time finding your place. I thought I might be a little early. Sure, I didn't recognize you for a minute. Oh, you're Clyde Croyton. That's all you were at last night. I thought it was a couple of times with you. Really? Yeah, good act, too. Thank you. How was it going? Oh, no thanks. I just stopped in for a few moments with Craig. He's a little business man. Oh, what can I do for you? Answer a few questions. Sure glad to. Do you manage a dancer named Ricky? I don't know. I'll see what you're getting. Yeah, I manage him. New specialists in rumbles and things. Very kind answer. That's what Marie tells me. I'll be honest. I wasn't trying to pull off him. You understand? So help him. I was going to put my cards on the table before we made any deal. You see what I mean? I suppose you put them on the table now, huh? Okay. You make a great team, Mr. Croyton. Like you, Marie? Marie is part of a great team already. She's not available. I don't know whether she is or not. I hadn't had a chance to talk to her. Now, by the other day, left my card? Yes, I saw it. She's not at liberty, Mr. Craig. She's my partner and my wife. I must admit that I don't like this sort of thing going on behind my back. I'm sure she was going to lose. That's what Ricky told me. Now, look, Mr. Croyton, you've been in the game long enough to know what youth means in advancing. Well, you're still a good performer, but I think Ricky's better. After all, I'm not damaging you. I'm only trying to get a break from my class. Thank you for that now, King. You're going to put it up to Marie. Why not? She's over 21. You'll be able to make her own decision. Thank you for being very fair to me. And you know show business with Croyton. She goes for it. I guess Ricky will be her new partner. It's just nothing you can do. I'd like to talk to this Ricky, if you don't mind. Sure. Is this stated? Today. Where is he now? He'll walk in the park somewhere. He walks for two hours every morning. He's good for the way, you know? Alone? It'll be hard to find another guy who'd knock off eight miles in the park in four lines. Don't you think? Yeah. He'll come here after his walk? Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. Say, I just have to think. I've got to meet a client in ten minutes. I've got to run. Now, you don't mind. Oh, no, go right ahead. You don't mind if I wait here. Oh, no, no, no. Stick around. Wait here. Ricky might drop by after his walk. That might be a couple of hours. I don't have all morning. Okay. The new variety is on the desk. You'll be alone here. No one to bother you. Thanks. Here it is, huh? Oh, sure. And, uh... Pardon? Yes. No hard feelings. Right. No hard feelings. No, Clyde, no hard feelings at all. Just the amazing realization that not one minute ago as you talked to Stanley Craig, you calmly, un-motionally, coldly decided to murder your wife, Marie. There was no shock to it at all. It seemed as if it had been there all the time in the back of your mind, waiting to be formulated into thought. Yes, Clyde, here you are in Stanley Craig's office alone. Ricky is walking in the park alone. Marie is at home alone, probably still in bed. You realize that another opportunity like this might not happen in a thousand years. Yes. If you're going to do it at all, Clyde, you've got to do it now! On top of the file cabinet, you find a package of Stanley Craig's letterheads on his desk, a battered typewriter. In your pocket, the card signed Ricky that came with the flowers, and most important in your mind, an idea. Marie, my darling, it is useless to try to put this into words. I've told no one of your decision to stay with Clyde because I know it isn't final, that you love me and always will, that the only future for either of us is together. At the bottom of the note, after all my love, you carefully copy Ricky's signature from the card. Then you check the date. Yes. You've dated it yesterday to make it look as if it had time to go through the mail. On the desk is a sharp letter opener with Stanley Craig's name on it. That's part of it too, Clyde. You put it in your coat pocket, ready when you need it. Now, back to your apartment. You still have over an hour and you know Marie will be alone. Just finished dressing? I was about to go out. Where have you been? You know where I went. Did you see him? Ricky? Who else? Oh, he wasn't there. Seems he was taking his morning walk in the park. Remember when we used to walk in the park together, Marie? You're breaking my heart. I'm sorry. I had quite a talk with Mr. Craig. He's quite a businessman. It's odd you've never met him. I'm going to see him today. I told him how I felt about you and Ricky. And of course, it didn't do you any good. In one way it didn't. In another way, it was quite a profitable visit. What does that mean? You're about to find out, darling. I want to show you a letter. Here, read it. It's addressed to you. Who's it from? The signatures at the bottom. Ricky? Clyde, what is this? Go on, read it loud. Marie, my darling, it's useless to try to put this into words. I told no one of your decision to stay with Clyde because I know it isn't final. That you love me and always will. Oh, Clyde, this is ridiculous. Go on, Marie, read the rest of it. I think always will. The only future for either of us is together. You must believe me, darling. I'd rather die than have it any other way. I'm coming to your apartment tomorrow morning at 11. You must decide this once and for all. Oh, my love, Ricky. What's so funny, Marie? Oh, Clyde, that's the funniest thing I've ever read in my life. What do you think you're doing? It's a present for Ricky, darling. Well, I'm afraid I don't know what... Flower. What are you doing with that letter opener? Ricky's going to the chair, Marie, for your murder. My very funny, Clyde. If you're trying to... And there's something for you too, a lesson in loyalty. Get away from me, Clyde. Listen, Clyde, please. Please, darling, no. A present for Ricky. They'll never know now that Marie was about to toss you over for him. The letter will be published in all the papers, and that kind of publicity won't hurt you a bit, will it? You move quickly now. Toss the card with Ricky's signature on Marie's desk. Take the crumpled note from her hand and put it in the wastebasket, where the police will be sure to find it. Throw the letter opener out the window into the shrubbery several floors below. They'll find that too. That's all, Clyde. You're ready now? Nothing to do but leave the building by the private elevator and return to Stanley Craig's office. You're there in less than 20 minutes with a good half hour to spare. And best of all, you haven't been seen by anyone who could possibly recognize you. Still here, Mr. Croydon? Yes. Yes, I'm still here. I'm beginning to wonder if Ricky will show up at all. Anybody call? Not unless they called while I was out stretching my legs. I walked around the block a couple of times. Oh, sorry. You had to wait so long. Oh, that's all right. It gave me a chance to think things over. Is that good or bad? I think it's good. I decided it's wrong for me to try to stand in her way. If this looks like a break for her and Ricky, I think they deserve the chance. I was hoping you'd see it that way, Mr. Croydon. Thanks a lot. Well, I'd better be going. Tell Ricky about everything when he comes, will you? Sure. Going home? Yes. I think I'd better tell Marie. Hello, police headquarters. Something terrible has happened. My name is Clyde Croydon. I live in the penthouse at 1232 Warwick Place. That's right. Please send someone of here as quickly as you can. My wife has been murdered. I think we can clean this up in a hurry, Mr. Croydon. I don't want to talk about it anymore, Sergeant. Oh, sure. I still can't believe it. I know how you feel. I'll do anything I can to help, but you'll understand later on, please. Oh, sure. Sure, Mr. Croydon. Tomorrow, maybe. Feel better today, Mr. Croydon? I think so. Oh, it's good. That's quite a letter we found in the wastebasket. What do you think of it? Oh, I don't know what to think. You knew what was going on between this man and your wife? There was nothing going on. It was all in his mind. What do you mean? Look, I have never seen this Ricky. I don't even know who he is. All I know is that he started sending Marie flowers after every performance. He had some crazy idea she was in love with him. It was ridiculous. She hardly even knew him. Uh-huh. And what about the dance business? That was part of it, too. He thought she'd leave me and team up with him. Oh, don't ask me why. She laughed at him. Well, that's as good a motive as I've seen in 20 years. You know, it's a wonder he didn't leave a confession note right on the table. He left everything else. First-class motive, the letter in the wastebasket, the knife with his manager's name on the bushes outside, and yet... And yet what? With all that, after practically shouting from the housetops that he'd killed her, he carefully wipes his prints off the knife. Funny how a murderer's mind works, isn't it? Yes, it's... Well, it's hard to understand. Oh, by the way, Mr. Croydon, this is only a formality, of course. Where were you yesterday morning before you found your wife? In Craig's office. I was waiting for Ricky to show up. I see. Craig seemed to think she'd go for him as a new partner, and I finally decided to go down and settle it. Have any words with Craig? Of course not. I just told him if it was all right with Marie, it was all right with me. But I knew, of course, how she felt about him. Where was Ricky at the time? His manager said he was walking in the park, exercising his legs. Alone? Yes, I guess so. Now there it is again. I'll bet the guy hasn't even got himself an alibi. Have you, uh, talked to him yet? Well, the boys are looking him up now, and if you ask me, Mr. Croydon, that guy's a dead pigeon. The Whistler will return in just a moment with a strange ending of tonight's story. I wonder if you've noticed the increasing emphasis that's being placed recently on the independent businessman. Well, that's especially interesting to me, because not just now, but for the past 15 years, in fact, ever since Signal Oil Company first started marketing gasoline, they have sold signal products through independent dealer-owned service stations. And for good reasons. Not only because the independent businessman represents the American way of life that has made our country such a great place in which to live and make a living, but also because there's a personal advantage for you in having your car serviced at a dealer-owned signal station. You see, your signal dealer being in business for himself naturally has more incentive to give you the more thorough, more conscientious service that will keep your car happy and keep you his satisfied customer. This personalized service, plus the fine quality of signal products, are two good reasons why Signal has grown so in popularity. Grown from a mere handful of stations serving Southern California into an organization serving seven western states from Canada to Mexico. And now, back to the Whistler. Well, Clyde, all it took was a little nerve. You're over the hump now, all ready to act as number one witness for the prosecution in the case against Ricky. Tomorrow the story will break in the papers. And the notoriety, the public sympathy over your bereavement, should make it easy to pick up a new partner, one who'll keep you in the top spots in penthouse apartments with private elevators. Yes, Clyde, you can relax now. You've decided it's all over. Who can that be? Oh, Sergeant. I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Croydon. I was about to go to bed. Anything wrong? We've got Ricky. Good. Just finished questioning him. Mind if I come in? No, not at all. Check the note against Craig's typewriter. That's where it came from, all right. Looks like you've got a case. I'll be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Croydon. Until we found that letter, you were our number one suspect. I... Yeah, you had plenty of motive and you had plenty of time to leave Craig's office, kill your wife and return. No, wait a minute. Wait a minute. The note flew us a curve. For a while. What do you mean, for a while? Until we found Ricky. He claims he didn't write it. Good Lord, what did you expect him to say? We believe him. Just a minute. You never met Ricky, huh? I told you that? That's the one honest statement you made, Croydon. The rest was strictly out of your head. I'll show you what I mean. Come on in, will you? Mr. Croydon, this is Ricardo Montez, also known as Ricky. He did it. He wrote the note. I'll tell you. No comprendo lo que hablan señores, pero yo no la mate. Wait. No, wait a minute. Wait a minute, please. No la mate. That's what I mean about the note, Croydon. The boy doesn't know a word of English. But it's a fake. Any foreigner can pretend he can't speak English. Maybe. But there was another thing about the note that tied it up, Croydon. What? It seems to me that if he could have written it, he'd have signed it in his own handwriting. But it was his handwriting. No, no, Croydon. You forged his name, but you copied the florist's handwriting. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler, each Monday at 9. Brought to you by the Signal Oil Company, who have asked me to remind you to get the most driving pleasure, drive at sensible speeds, be courteous, and obey traffic regulations. It may save a life. Possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Joseph Kearns and Betty Lou Gerson. The Whistler was produced by George W. Allen, with story by Jean Fromhurst, music by Wilbur Hatch, and was transmitted to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.