 And now stay tuned for the program that is 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, the famous Go Farther gasoline. Invite you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by The Whistler. I am The Whistler, and I know many things before I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadow. Yeah, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. And now for the Signal Oil Company, The Whistler's strange story. Fatal error. It was a unique arrangement between Lloyd McRae and his partner Matt Banks. On the surface, they appeared to be realizing only a modest average income, quite in keeping with their operations of a few air cargo planes. But beneath the surface, that was something else again. Just as certain secret side trips across the border into Mexico produced something else again in the way of big profits from McRae and Banyan. Yes, these were the deals the partners never discussed with anyone other than themselves. Not even Fran Engle, Matt's girlfriend, was told about the highly profitable sideline. Of course, there was always the danger of being exposed, and the partners were gradually reaching the danger point. Both were well aware of this as they discussed it one afternoon in their airport office. Now, that's how I see it, Matt. We put 25 grand away in six months, and I say it's time to lay off for a while. Anybody been snooping around? No, no. Maybe I'm just jumpy, that's all. Maybe. I see your point. So what's her next move? Nothing special, just start giving a little more attention to customers that want to do legitimate business, that's all. You mean Kramer, Lee, and the rest of our customers? Oh, look, Lee wants to talk about a frozen meat shipment tonight. See him, will you? His place? 8 o'clock? Oh, no, wait a minute, wait a minute. Can't you handle it? I've got a date with Fran. Fran, but she's working tonight anyway. Oh, throat's bothering you. She's not singing at the club tonight. Look, you know I never do as well with customers as you do, Matt. You've got to weigh with them. I haven't. Yeah, thanks, Lloyd, maybe so. Matt, look, we're still running a business. We're trying to make a look that way. I should think you'd want to do something about it. Okay, okay, save the lecture. Lee's place, 8 o'clock, I'll be there. All right, that's better. Yes, Lloyd, it's better all the way around, isn't it? Because you lied when you told Matt that there was nothing special about the next move. But then you couldn't very well tell him the truth, could you? Not when the next move is entirely yours, alone. When you plan to eliminate your partner, not only grab the $25,000, the two of you have laid away, together. But more important, Matt won't be around to share in the future profits of your highly lucrative sidelines. It's a simple plan, too, isn't it, Lloyd? Yet you shudder when you realize what might happen to you if you failed. If Matt found out that you tried to kill him, a powerful man, isn't he? He could break you in two like a twig. You wait in the darkened alleyway, a block from Lee's place. Tell yourself nothing will go wrong. No one in the world knows about the extra money the two of you have accumulated. The $25,000 you keep hidden away in your office safe. There won't be a single reason for suspicion to be pointed in your direction. It'll be just an unexplained killing, something for you to read about in the papers the next day, along with everyone else. It's almost eight, and now you hear them. Footsteps. Closer. Closer. He's right on time, isn't he, Lloyd? Right on time. Your whirl run from the alley. On the sidewalk you almost knock someone over. Look out, let me by. You turn your face away from the woman, shove roughly past, and then break into a run. Certain that she didn't get a clear look at you. Morning, Alice. Double coffee, huh? Yeah, sure, right away. Oh, here's the paper. You can read about the shooting last night over by the Lee's frozen meat company. Shooting? Yeah, a fellow named Joe Ramis got himself blasted by a... What? Well, let me see that. Well, there it is, right in the front page. Joe Ramis, shot. Killed by unknown assailant. Witness described killer as a... ...slide of build. Wearing trench coats. Hey, what's the matter, Mr. McCray? You don't look so good. Did you know this Ramis guy? No, I didn't know the guy. Yes, it started last Monday. Signals big $10,000 contest. And all week Whistler fans have been bestieging signal dealers for free entry blanks. No wonder, too, when the 200 valuable awards include such exciting prizes... ...as a Buick Super in the dashing new Riviera model. An Apex three-piece automatic laundry, washer, dryer, and ironer. Six Packard Bell television sets with latest type black picture tube... ...including Packard Bell's famous telecaster consoles... ...that turn at fingertip touch to most convenient viewing angle. Then there are two of O'Keeffe & Merritt's finest gas ranges... ...with vanishing shelf and grill-o-vator broiler. Plus 10 solid gold case wristwatches by Hellbrose. And dozens of other wonderful prizes that you can win in this easy, fun-filled way. You know those signal cartoon billboards that picture an angry bride... ...waiting at the church door for the groom... ...who is just arriving late because he ran out of gas? Well, all you need do is write in 25 words or less... ...what you think the bride is shouting at the groom. That's all there is to it. No purchases required, no box tops to send in, no tickets to save. Say, this is really a contest you can't afford to miss. So listen later for more details about Signal's big $10,000 contest. It was a shock, wasn't it, Lloyd? To learn the papers of identified the man you shot down last night... ...as Joe Ramis, not your partner, Matt Bannon. You can hardly believe it. You were so certain it was your partner. You can't even build even the same walk. But you've made a mistake, haven't you? A bad mistake. And now, driving out to your office at the airport... ...there's a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. The newspaper story, Lloyd, carries a partial description of you, the killer. Enough for Matt to add things up. Especially if he was early to keep that appointment with Lee... ...only to learn that there was never such an appointment. That you lied to him. As you approach the airport, you wonder if you shouldn't make your move now. Salvage what you can, take the money out of the safe, leave town. But that would point suspicion directly, wouldn't it, Lloyd? By the time you reach the office of the airport... ...you've decided to wait it out and see what Matt will do. No sign of Matt having been here, is there, Lloyd? So you sit at your desk, stare out the window toward the parking lot... ...and wait for Matt to arrive. Ten o'clock, eleven. There's no sign of him. It's almost noon when you finally pick up the telephone... ...and call your partner's girlfriend, Fran Angle. Oh, Fran? How's my favorite songbird? You're still knocking him dead? Now, one show a night. Fine, fine. Fran, I've been trying to locate Matt. You see him this morning? Matt? Yeah. I'll be right with you. Clutching the phone tightly in your hand as Fran excuses herself. You strained a listen. She talked to someone softly. Someone there in their apartment. It could be Matt, couldn't it? Finally, she comes back on the phone. Oh, I'm sorry, Lloyd. The, uh... Yeah, it isn't anything special. Just thought if you'd seen him, you know. Oh, yeah. He was by here a couple of hours ago. Dropped in to say goodbye. Goodbye? Yes, he, uh... ...he had to drive up to Bakersfield on business. But didn't you know? Oh, sure, yeah. Today is Tuesday, isn't it? Yeah, that's right. Yeah, he did say something about it a few days ago. Anything else on your mind, Lloyd? I mean, in case you should call me later. Uh, no. No, forget it, Fran. Thanks. Bye. Bye. As you hang up the receiver, you lean back in your chair and breathe a sigh of relief. You'd forgotten about Matt's business trip to Bakersfield, haven't you? And you're certain now we never would have left if he'd suspected anything. However, you're not entirely in the clear yet, are you, Lloyd? You'll still have to explain something to him when he gets back. The phony appointment with Lee. There's something else, too. You wonder if Matt's seen the newspapers if he's read the account of the murder last night. Late that evening, just before you leave the office, you decide to find out. You put in a long-distance call to the hotel in Bakersfield where he usually stays. Hotel Lindon? I'd like to speak with Mr. Banyan, please. Matt Banyan? Mr. Banyan? One moment, sir. Yeah? I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Banyan isn't registered. What? Well, are you sure? Quite sure, sir. Well, he must be there. Should have arrived hours ago. I'm sorry, sir. Oh, all right. Never mind. Something's wrong, Lloyd. You can sense it, can't you? As you close up the office and walk to the parking lot, the feeling of uneasiness builds within you. You try to fight it off. Find some reason why Matt hasn't checked into the hotel. An accident, perhaps, on the road. Yeah, or motor trouble. Or he might have finished his business early and started back to town. There's nothing to be gained by staying at the office, is there? So you decide to drive on to your apartment. As you approach the all-night garage where Matt usually parks his car, an idea suddenly occurs to you. You swing into the driveway, pull up inside. OK, coming. Hello, Frank. Oh, hi, Mr. McRae. How's everything? Oh, can't complain. This baby of mine needs a tune-up, OK, if I bring it in tomorrow. Oh, sure, sure. We'll take care of it, Mr. McRae. Do a good job for you. Matt said you would. He's your best booster, you know. Nice guy there, Mr. Banyan. Don't get to see him much now that I'm on the late shift. How's he doing? Oh, fine. He's on a trip upstate right now. He drove up this morning. Drove up? Funny. What do you mean? He didn't take his car. It's parked back there in the store, right where he always keeps it. You sure? Well, yeah, yeah. Look for yourself. I guess he must have decided to take the train for a change. Yeah, I guess so. Frank lied to you, didn't she, Lloyd? And you remember your phone conversation with her? Overhearing her talking to someone in the apartment. Someone she said was the man from the dry cleaners. You're certain now it was Matt. And you know now why he told it a lie. He doesn't want you to know that he's here in town. And he's suspicious of you. You drive out of the garage and find yourself headed back toward the airport. You're afraid to go to your apartment, aren't you, Lloyd? Afraid that Matt will be there waiting for you. You decide to drive back to the office instead. As you enter and lock the door behind you, without turning on the lights, you step over to answer the telephone. Hello? Hello? Hello, who is it? Hello! Your hand is shaking badly, isn't it, Lloyd, as you've replaced the receiver. You move slowly to your chair, sink down into it, and sit there in the darkness of your office. The phone call. It could have been a wrong number, couldn't it? Yes. You've got to get hold of yourself, Lloyd. Your nerves are on edge. You've got to be very careful. You can't afford to make a mistake now and give yourself away. You're sure you know why Matt is keeping out of sight. He's waiting for you to make a move, isn't he? The wrong move. But you're not going to, are you, Lloyd? You sit there for some time thinking things out, gradually becoming more and more confident, and then suddenly you wheel around in your chair, stiffen as you hear the key in the lock of the office door. You're unable to move to call out, unable to take your eyes off the doorknob as it turns slowly. Mr. McRae, I didn't know you were here. What do you want, Pop? I'm just coming to do the cleaning up, Mr. McRae. I didn't know you were here. The lights was on. All right, all right, all right. If you aren't, I can come back later. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come back later, will you? Okay, I'm sorry, Mr. McRae, I didn't mean to... Sure, sure, sure. You paste the floor of your office nervously for a few minutes, and then reach for the telephone. You must call Matt, find out if he's gone. Then you change your mind again and slam down the receiver. You lock up the office and drive into town to the Blue Lantern, the nightclub where Fran works, and as you enter the crowded room, she's finishing her big number. The nicest part of any melody is when you're dancing close to me, so pure and authentic, in that Nickelodeon, all I want is loving you and music, music, music. You lead it, you love it, you love, love, love, yo. All I want is music. Hello, Fran. What? Oh, Lord. Nice song. Very nice. Thanks. Buy a drink? Oh, some other time, Lord. Oh, okay. What brings you around? We don't see you here very often. Oh, just bored, I guess. You know, I really don't get out as often as I should, or work in no play. That's bad. Yeah, I spend entirely too much time with the office, I guess. Take Matt now, at least he gets a chance to take a few out-of-town trips once in a while. Too often to suit me. Maybe I ought to make those trips instead. Fine. That way I'd have Matt where I could keep my eye on him. You know, I often wonder about those business trips. Oh, you having a thing to worry about, Fran? There's only one doll in his life, it's you. Yeah, sure, sure. That's what he tells me. You know, you've got a great guy there, Fran. Great guy. I know. I guess you know too how I feel about him. He's the best friend I ever had. There's nothing I wouldn't do for Matt. He's a real guy. By the way, did he call you tonight? Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, he called from his hotel. Huh? So, Lyndon? Yeah. Why, something on your mind? Well, I wanted him to check on something when I was up there. I happened to think about it this afternoon. Oh, I see. I could call him in the morning, I guess. Yeah. It really isn't too important. Are you sure you won't have that drink, Fran? No. No, thanks, Lloyd. Well, if you don't mind, I think I'll go back to my dressing room. I have a horrible headache. Oh, it's too bad. Well, I'll see you, huh? You ought to come around more often. Sure. I'll do that, Fran. I'll do that. A half hour later, you park your car a block from Matt's apartment house and then walk slowly toward the four-story building. As you approach it, you glance up at the third-story windows. Matt's apartment is dark. You stop for a moment. Then as you turn around... Oh, Lloyd. What? Hey, what's the matter, pal? I'll scare you. Oh, it's you, Dave. You've been calling on Matt? Yeah, he's not home. Ain't he? No. I guess not. Dark. Well, you couldn't have missed him by much. You, uh, seem to have? No, no, but I heard him moving around up there just before I went down to the corner about 10 minutes ago. Oh, you sure? Well, sure, I'm sure. My apartment's right under his, ain't it? I heard him. Oh, I see. Okay, well, thanks, Dave. Hey, wait. If you're going down to the airport, I'll give you a lift. Going down there in a few minutes. Oh, thanks. No, I have my car. Shortly before midnight, you're in the residential section. You park your car on a quiet side street, and you walk a block to where you can see Fran Engle's cottage. The lights are on inside, but the blinds are drawn. You're almost certain that Matt is in there with Fran, aren't you, Lloyd? And if you wait long enough, you'll see him when he comes out. You've almost made up your mind to slip around to the side of the house and perhaps listen in on their conversation when suddenly a car pulls up in front of you and you duck back into the shadows. It's a police car, Lloyd. Well, that must be the place over there, Sergeant. That cottage? 831. Yeah, that's it. Come on, let's go. A wave of panic sweeps over you as you watch the police officer's ring Fran's bell. The door opens and she stands there for a moment. Then nods and the officer step inside. You're sure Matt's called him in, aren't you? Certainly he's found the proof that you tried to kill him. That he knows you killed Joe Ramus instead and now he's telling the police about it. You hurry back to your car and start toward town. So frightened you're unable to think clearly. Finally, you know what you must do. You drive back to your apartment, pack your bags, slip the murder gun into your coat pocket. You can dispose of it after you're safely away and then you hurry to the airport. As you reach the parking lot, your surprise as the attendant stops you. Say, Mr. McCrae. What is it, kid? Thought maybe you ought to know. The cops were here asking for you. What? Yeah, probably at your office now. They say what they want it? No. Okay. Here. Hey, thanks. Park this crate for me, will you? I better go over to the office and see what they want. Sure, Mr. McCrae. Sure. You decide to leave the car in the lot and then you hurry over to the terminal building. Go to the cocktail lounge and from the window you can see the police car parked in front of your office. Two policemen inside talking to pop. You've got to get them out of there, Lloyd. If you're going to get the money out of the safe. $25,000. You'll have to be satisfied with that, won't you? The panic has left you now, hasn't it, Lloyd? And there's a smile on your lips as you dial a number of your office. Lloyd there? You want Lloyd, McCrae? Yeah, sure. Are you around? No, he isn't. Who is it? Just a friend. He was supposed to meet me at the blue land an half hour ago. I can't wait much longer. You don't know where he is. No, I don't. Okay. I'll see him later. Just a minute. You smile as you hang up the phone. You're pretty sure that in a few minutes the officers will be on their way to the Blue Lantern Cafe. You return to the cocktail lounge and watch. A moment later you see the police officers come out of your office and drive off. The way is clear, isn't it, Lloyd? Now you've only to take the money, leave town, and you're sure that you can arrange that easily. You have one more thing to do before your plans are complete. You leave the cocktail lounge and walk into a nearby hangar. Hey, Mac. What? Oh, hi, Lloyd. Dave around. Any offers? Thanks. Dave, I got a job for you. Yeah? Yeah, it's a special sort of a job. Oh, one of those then? Yeah. Well, I've always cooperated in the past, Lloyd. You know me, anything for a fast buck. Well, there's a grand in it for you. Same as always. Tell me more. Fly me to Mexico. When? Right now. It's a deal. Good. All right, get that credit. You're as warmed up. I've got to go back to the office for a minute. Then we take off. Oh, Dave. Yeah? Keep your mouth shut. I'm a clam pal. A clam. You don't have a thing to worry about. Not a thing. I'll enter in Mexico in an hour. 200 lucky Westerners will win some wonderful prizes in signals, big $10,000 content. Prizes such as Frigidaire's deluxe refrigerator with new cold wall cooling. A Frigidaire electric range or Frigidaire home freezer. Five Halliburton makeup cases filled with exquisite cosmetics by Anatole Robbins of Hollywood. Ten Packard Bell radios. Ten Westinghouse vacuum cleaners. Plus 50 Westinghouse pop-up toasters. And here's how easy it is to win these valuable prizes. Just write in 25 words or less what you think the angry bride on the signal gasoline billboard is shouting at her out of gas groom. For instance, she might be saying, I'd never have said yes if I had known you don't use signal go farther gasoline. Winners will be selected on the basis of originality and humor, aptness and suitability in advertising signal products. Your chances of winning are good because only entries mailed on official entry banks from the six signal states, California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada and Arizona are eligible to win. So ask your nearest signal dealer for a free contest entry blank. It contains helpful suggestions that make it even easier for you to win a Buick or one of the 200 valuable prizes in signals big $10,000 contest. A curious crowd had gathered in front of the McRae Banyan office at the airport, milling around and talking in excited whispers. Inside the office, Lieutenant Robbins of Homicide faced the members of the press and was trying to explain what had happened. Look, look, boys, look. I can only tell you what I know. Wait a minute. Wait. Now, look. I can only tell you what I know. There's a lot about this I don't know. A lot I don't understand. Yeah, well, okay, okay, Lieutenant. Now, so McRae was opening the safe here when the proud car boys walk in on him, huh? He turned around, started shooting. That's right. The boys had to give it right back to him in self-defense. So McRae is dead. Now, what did the law want with him in the first place? Well, a man named Joe Ramis was killed last night. He was murdered. Yeah, yeah, I know, Lieutenant. I wrote that down myself. Well, I made a couple of interesting discoveries about this Joe Ramis tonight. Now, first, the boys down at the morgue found $25,000 hidden in the lining of his overcoat. $25,000. This is big. I'm going to phone my paper. Oh, wait a minute. You better wait until I finish. Second, the identification papers on him were phony. He wasn't Joe Ramis. We found this out after we checked up on a dame. We found a picture of her in his wallet. Oh, a case of find the woman, huh? All right. Now, we picked her up, brought her down to the morgue. When she recognized the body, she went all the pieces, told us about the $25,000. Bank loot? Nope. His girlfriend told us he was double-crossing his partner, running out with the firm's dough, the 25 grand we found on him. Uh-huh. Yeah, he was going to skip last night on the midnight plane from Mexico City. The girl was going to meet him there later. Only at 8 o'clock last night, somebody bumped him off in that alley. Mm-hmm. He had an appointment there there with a frozen meat dealer named Lee. And the funny thing about it was the girl said he was only keeping the appointment to keep his partner from becoming suspicious. They always make one error, Lieutenant, don't they? Yeah, nearly always. In this case, it was a fatal error. Even his girl thought he made a getaway. She thought he was safe in Mexico until she recognized his body at the morgue. Yeah, you boys certainly solved this one quick. Yeah. Oh, but we had a little luck, of course. One of the boys recognized the picture we found in his pocket. Uh-huh. A nightclub singer, Fran Engel. Fran Engel? Hey, but she was Matt Vanyan's girl. Right. The dead man we thought was Joe Ramis because of his phony identification papers turned out to be Matt Vanyan. Lloyd McRae's partner. Vanyan was double-crossing McRae. It looks like it. And now McRae. Yeah. Yeah, but what I can't figure is why McRae started shooting when the boys in the proud car came here to his office. We only wanted him to come down to headquarters and pick up that $25,000 we found on Matt Vanyan. Let that whistle be your signal each Sunday for the Signal Oil Program, the Whistler. And this week be sure to enter Signal's big $10,000 contest. 200 valuable prizes include a new Buick, Apex Automatic Laundry, Frigidaire Refrigerator Electric Range or Home Freezer, Packard Bell Television Set, O'Keefe and Merritt Gas Range and many others. Just ask at your nearest Signal service station for an official entry blank. It's free. No purchase required. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, John Daener and Gigi Pearson. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Steve Hampton, 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 the same time next Sunday another strange tale by the Whistler. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.