 And now, stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because even when you know who's guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the Signal Oil program, the Whistler. Signal, the famous Go-Farther gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story. By 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. Devoted couple. The big house on Orange Grove Drive seemed to reflect the merriment inside. The new Mr. and Mrs. Walter Blake were at home to friends following their honeymoon. And it was truly an occasion. Mrs. Blake had lived quite alone for several years, a widow, with only a servant girl as a companion. And now it was all changed, and Claire Blake's friends were pleased. Pleased for Claire and pleased with the charm and manner of her new husband. The wealthy eastern sportsman, Walter Blake. Yes, an occasion. Good cause for laughter, happiness, and congratulations. Oh, and Claire, darling, to think how it was such an accident that you two met when you all simply made for each other. Thank you. Thank you, ma'am. She's right, you know. And I'd say you both made a fine catch. Well, I'm the lucky one, Mr. Shelling. Oh, make it, Bob, will you? After all, Walter, the husband of our dear friend, Claire. Oh, yes, sorry, Bob. But I repeat, I'm the lucky one. Claire's the sort of person I've been searching for for years. Thank you, dear. Mr. Blake, sir, the telephone. Oh, excuse me, dear. Everyone, probably some long distance congratulations from my side of the phone. I'll be right back. Hello? That's right. Congratulations. I'm afraid... Who is this? The name is myself. So? Quite well informed. What are you driving at, Spiker? You'd better talk to me. I'll meet you in the garden and back of the house. Ten minutes. Hello? Hello? Well, Walter, who is he and what does he want? The questions race through your mind. You can't place the name Spiker, not at all. But you know one thing, you have to meet him. Have to watch your opportunity and slip away from Claire and her friends. And make your way out into the garden and back of the house. Over here, Mr. Blake. Oh, Spiker? That's right. Over here, I don't want you to get the idea that because I've come out here like this... That you're worried? Scared? Oh, no, Mr. Blake. Not that. Come on, I have much time. What's this all about? What's it all about, eh? It's all about you, Mr. Blake. I know all about you. You see, I was paid my regular fee just to find out all about you. Your regular fee? I'm a private investigator, Mr. Blake. A private investigator? Then checking on you for several weeks now. Hired by the present Mrs. Blake. Claire? Claire, hired you? Yes, to look into your background. Find out the truth about you before she listened to your proposals when I had with the marriage. I don't believe it. Because she went ahead with the marriage, you mean? No. No, simply I don't believe that Claire would stoop to such... Oh, come off it, Mr. Blake. Oh, Walter. No time for pride. If it'll help your feelings, Annie. Her attorney did the insisting, but the fact remained. That you investigated me. Found out? Found out that Walter Blake, wealthy sportsman, is about as wealthy as I am. Then why on earth did Claire go through with it? She said nothing. Why did she marry him? Mr. Blake, I dreamed up a beauty. Handed you a character, bank accountant, background that made it ridiculous to even thank you at anything but love and devotion. You're a very amazing person, Mr. Spiker. Not too. Let's just say I'm human that I had myself in mind, wanted my share. Of course. What else? How about Mrs. Blake? Quite well off, isn't she? Yes, she's very well off, as you put it. The sort of person I've been looking for for years. Here. My card, Mr. Blake. There's an address. Not a very fancy place to be sure, but a place to hang my hat. And a place where you can start sending money. Starting, say, tomorrow. All right, Spiker. Starting tomorrow. You have a partner, haven't you, Walter? An unwelcome but full partner in your carefully prepared plan to acquire the wealth belonging to your new wife, Claire. The problem is on your mind all evening, through the remainder of the little reception party. And you're thinking about it later as you drive Claire's friends the Shelly is home because their car is stolen. And then, then alone in the car on your way back home to Claire, you hit upon a solution. Yes, Walter, you find the only kind of answer to this sort of thing. The only kind of answer you know. The next morning at breakfast, Claire seems disturbed over a little item in the paper. What is it here? You have an odd expression on your face. Have I? Something in the paper? Well, no, not really. It's just a, well, an accident victim, dear. A man who was found dead in his apartment suffocated or something. His name seems familiar to me somehow. Oh, what is the name? Spiker, Harry Spiker. No, I can't face it. How can I? Oh, may I look at the financial page, dear? You know, friends, in addition to being summer, this is also the time of year when more and more drivers switch to signals. The famous Go Father Gasly. Vacation minded folks just naturally go for signals good mileage. But mileage, mind you, is only half of signal story. Just you talk with a few signal customers, and you'll find they're equally enthusiastic about signals' performance. After all, in order to give you such good mileage, today's signal has to help your motor run more efficiently. And when your motor runs more efficiently, naturally you also enjoy quicker starting, proud pickup, and smooth, purring power, the things that make driving more fun. So to get the most out of your vacation dollars, make the friendly signal stations you'll find throughout the Pacific Coast States, your headquarters for happy mileage. And even if you're not planning a vacation trip, well, any time is a good time to power your car with signals. The famous Go Father Gasly. It's going well again, isn't it, Walter? The weeks that follow the little incident with Mr. Spiker are uneventful, comfortable. Also, you managed to earn some profits for your wife, Claire, on a number of minor business investments. She has full, unquestioning confidence in you, hasn't she? Of course, Claire has no way of knowing, or any reason to suspect, that the profit you've shown for her on her money are false profits. You're using your own money, what little you have left of it, for the purpose of winning her good will and faith. Yes, Walter, you've got to spend money to earn money, as you so often tell Claire. Oh, Walter again? And you've given me such a large return on such a little investment. Just pointing the way for you, my dear. Later on, I'll run across something where you can splurge, make a tremendous amount. You see, actually, Claire, you've got to spend money to make it. Anything you say, dear. My, even if we couldn't afford it, we've made enough to spend weeks at the beach. Take a cottage, a nice one. Walter, you're a genius at business, a wizard. Well, there's nothing magic about it, dear. Just the right move at the right time. What about that beach cottage idea? I think it's wonderful. Yes, Walter, you're sure that before too long, Claire will be turning everything over to your management. Giving you power of attorney. It's perfect, isn't it? Going more smoothly than you anticipated. At the beach, Claire's confidence even inspires her to hire a social secretary. Your new wife is blossoming out, Walter, taking an interest in things. But you find another kind of interest in her new secretary. A girl with teetian hair and laughing blue eyes. And it all begins on the day you first meet her when you drive back to the beach from town. Go for an afternoon swim, out to a raft just offshore. She's sitting there as you swim up. Oh, I didn't notice I had an audience. You swim very well. You're Mr. Blake. That's right. Oh, and you're Nadine Wilson. Yes, I'm Mrs. Blake's new secretary. Oh, my, I wish I could swim as well as you do. Oh, not as good as I used to be. Out of shape, I'm afraid. I wish you'd help me. Glad to. It's the stroke. I just don't get that overhand business and the breathe in and breathe out. I keep drinking in half the ocean. Well, we'll try to correct it. Yes, we'll try to find some time together every day if you wish, Miss Wilson. It'll be a pleasure. That was the beginning, Walter, but only the beginning. First the lessons every afternoon, and like you said, a real pleasure. Then later a chance meeting one evening when Claire retired early. A stroll along the beach, quiet conversation lulled by the gentle lapping of the waves against the beach. Just the two of you, you and Nadine. Soon it's a nightly thing, a silent agreement that you two will meet and walk and talk. And suddenly you find yourself discontented. The thoughts of Claire's money aren't enough, are they? They're new thoughts, thoughts of you and Nadine. Until finally you can stand it no longer. You're wondering what to do and when to do it. Until suddenly Nadine brings everything up short. Mr. Blake. Please, Nadine dear. Walter's been quite good enough for a week now. Surely you're not going to change something that's... Mr. Blake. I've wanted to say this before. Now I have to say it. I simply must. What is it, dear? Maybe I will sound mid-Victorian or something, but I don't care. I don't know what's got into me. I've never acted this way before. I mean, with a married man. It isn't fair. Isn't it, Nadine? No. Mrs. Blake's been very decent to me. I feel all wrong about this, like a cheat. I see. Please, Mr. Blake. Say you understand that you don't think badly of me. I mean for, well, giving you the wrong idea, perhaps. You see, I do... You do care for me. Isn't that what you were going to say? Yes. Yes, I do. But this is insane what we're doing. Insane, unfair. Neither of us can help it. Neither of us can do anything about it. No, please don't say that. We can do something. I can. I can leave. I can go away. No, Nadine, don't do that. It won't be necessary. You mean you understand? If I don't, my dear, I'll make every effort to. Only please don't run off. Let me work this thing out properly, decently. I'll do it, I assure you. The proper decent thing that you promised Nadine would involve a divorce, wouldn't it, Walter? Yes, complete freedom from Claire, divorce. That would clear the way for you and Nadine, wouldn't it, Walter? But you don't intend to take that step, do you? Divorcing Claire would leave you penniless. And that doesn't fit in with your plans. Plans that will make you a wealthy man on Claire's death. The following evening at dinner, you're thinking about your next move, paying little attention to Claire's constant chattering. That is, until something she says causes you to look up at her. What? What was that, darling? The Granger's, darling. I promised marriage we'd drop over this evening. Oh, I wish you hadn't, Claire. Well, I didn't know you had plans, Walter. Well, it's just that Emerson is coming over here. Emerson? You introduced me to him at the country club last month. Oh, yes, of course. He's in insurance or something. Yes, insurance. That's why I asked him over. Well, darling... It's the sensible thing to do. If anything happened to me... Darling, don't talk like that. Really, Claire? Now, let's face it. Right, of course, but I just don't like to think of those things. You don't have to, darling, but I do. It's a responsibility. I owe it to you. Oh, really, Claire? I feel much better about everything. Well, I suppose if you've made up your mind... I have, darling. It'll be the best investment I've ever made. Believe me. During the rest of dinner, you manage to keep the topic of insurance alive, don't you, Walter? And you can tell if Claire is interested. You almost know what she's thinking. Yet you're a little disappointed once dinner is over and she decides to go on to the Grangers alone. You'd hope she'd remain, sit in on your conversation with the insurance agent. You spend an hour in the study with Mr. Emerson discussing your insurance plans in detail. And then a few minutes after he's gone, you hear Claire in the entry hall. Walter? Hey, in the study, darling. Ah, have a nice visit. Very. Oh, you were alone. What? Oh, you mean Emerson? Well, he left a few minutes ago. Oh, dude, I came back early hoping he'd still be here. Yes, I've been thinking things over, Walter, about the insurance. Oh, now, now, Claire, I've already agreed to take it. Well, that's fine, dear. But if you take out insurance for me, I want to take out insurance for you. Oh, now, really, I... No, please, I've made up my mind. You'll call Mr. Emerson in the morning and ask him to come out again, won't you, Walter? Well... Ask him to lunch tomorrow, why don't you? And we'll talk, hmm? All right, Claire. Whatever you say. It's happened just as you knew it, Walter. Claire fell for your insurance idea and insisted on taking out an equal amount of insurance on herself, just as you felt sure she would. Within a week after Mr. Emerson's second call to the house, the luncheon, you and Claire share a joint life insurance policy for $50,000. In addition, there's the rest of Claire's money that you'll inherit the day she dies. You haven't decided just when that will come about or how. Six months or so, a year, perhaps. But in the weeks that follow as you continue to meet with Nadine, you find yourself becoming more and more impatient. And then one morning as you come downstairs to a late breakfast, you see a taxi pull out of your driveway and disappear down the street. Morning, dear. Good morning, Claire. Who was that? The taxi that... Oh, Nadine, she couldn't wait. Darling told me to say goodbye. Goodbye? Yes, the poor girl was so upset. Something was wrong the moment she bought the mail in this morning. Wrong? What do you mean? Bad news from home. Her mother's quite ill. Oh, I see. I do so hate losing Nadine. She was such an efficient little person. Well, now I suppose I'll have to start all over again. Break in and use, Secretary. Really, it's so annoying. Wait a minute. You mean she's not coming back? No. No, I'm afraid Nadine's left us, Walter. For good. Didn't think I'd find you, did you? I didn't think I would myself... Walter, please go away. Please, I... I've been looking for you all week. Please let me come in. But I told Mrs. Blake that I was... That you were going east? I couldn't believe that. How did you find me? Through one of the employment agencies. Why, Nadine? Why did you run away? I just couldn't stand it anymore, Walter. Living in the same house being near you and yet... I've missed you terribly. Houses like a tomb now. Those walks at night along the cliffs. That's when I miss you so much. Walter, listen to me. It's no use. I just don't want things the way they are now. It's better that we forget it ever happened, forget each other. Just like that? Just like that. No. No, it isn't quite that simple. I am going away, Walter. I've got a new job. Where? What difference does that make? Where, Nadine? There really isn't a new job, is there? No. But don't you see, Walter, I've got to get away. A new city. I don't know where. A new job, new friends. They do wonders for girls, so I understand. Oh, look, darling, we can... Please, Walter, I've made up my mind. This is the way it's got to be. I don't suppose I'll ever see you again? I don't know. We'll see how it works out. Who knows, I might come crawling back on my hands and knees in a week. And perhaps not. All right, Nadine, let's see how it works out. But promise me one thing. Yes? You'll let me know where you are. You'll write. Please, Nadine, I must know. All right, Walter, I promise. You're afraid you're going to lose her, aren't you, Walter? Once she's gone to another town, a new job, a new friend. Nadine's an attractive girl, and she'll find someone else. You're certain of that. Someone who'll help her forget you. But that isn't going to happen, is it? No. You're not going to give her the chance to forget you, Walter. And that means you've got to speed up your plans to get rid of Claire. In the days that follow, you carefully consider several ways in which you can bring about your wife's death. Consider and reject them as dangerous, complicated, and apt to cause suspicion. One evening, when you're alone in the house, you receive a phone call. Hello, Walter. Nadine? Yes, Mrs.... No, no, it's all right. She's out for a walk. I'm leaving in the morning, Walter. A job? In San Francisco. You at the apartment? Yes, I'm packing my things. I'll be right over. Walter, no, please! But I've got to see you before you go. I'd rather you didn't... Only for a minute or so. I won't answer the door, Walter. I swear on it. Nadine, I... All right, all right. I couldn't persuade you to change your mind about going. Nadine, this is crazy. Please don't go. We can work something out. Can't it's no use? Listen to me, darling, please. No, I'm going to hang up now. Nadine, wait. Goodbye, Walter. All right. Nadine! You replace the receiver, walk slowly across the room and step out under the terrace. As you light a cigarette, you notice your hand is trembling. And you know that the murder of your wife will take place soon, very soon. Hello, darling. You turn and watch Claire coming up the path toward you. You're annoyed, aren't you, Walter? You wanted more time alone to think. You're back early. It turned rather chilly. I just came back from my coat. But I'll get it for you. Oh, no, don't bother, dear. I want to change my shoes, too. The path along the cliff is rather slippery. Oh? The rain today. Oh, yes. Yes, the path can be dangerous after a rain. Claire, I... No, don't fret. I'm always quite careful. It's as simple as that. I'll walk along the cliffs. Oh, uh, Claire. Yes? I think a walk would do me good. Mind if I join you? Of course not, darling. Love to have you walk with me. Be right back. Guides now being offered free by signal dealers are a must for anyone planning a vacation. The first is a 20-page guide to where to eat and sleep called Lane's Guide. This handy pocket-sized booklet includes a representative selection of eating and lodging places in 350 cities and towns throughout 16 western states. Prepared by an independent travel organization, it contains much useful information such as whether the lodging place has facilities for swimming, whether prices are low, medium, or high, and in the case of motels, whether kitchens are available. The second free travel aid is signaled state maps. In addition to the usual road information, signal maps contain handy extras such as a radio log showing where to dial the popular network stations as you travel, a list of interesting places to visit, a western state's mileage chart, and enlarged sections of metropolitan areas. Remember, both of these signal travel aids are free, the 20-page guide to where to eat and sleep, and the state maps. Remember where to get them from any of the friendly, independent dealers throughout the Pacific Coast states who feature signals, the famous Go Farther gasoline. The tragedy at the cliffs at first believed an accident had turned out to be something else, a clear case of murder. There had been a witness to the shocking affair who saw the victim pushed off the cliffs, and that witness now sat in a crowded office at police headquarters, white-faced, staring across the room at the killer. The alarm of conversation ceased suddenly as police Lieutenant Jameson re-entered the room. He stopped a glance at the stenographer's notes for a moment, and then he turned and faced the witness. Ms. Wilson, uh, near Dean Wilson, is that right? Yes. You were formerly secretary to Mrs. Blake? Yes. How do you happen to be at the cliffs at the term of the murder? Ms. Wilson, I ask you how you have... I went there to meet Mr. Blake. A meeting had been arranged? No. You see, I had planned to leave town, but the last minute I changed my mind. I wanted to tell him that. Mm-hmm. I see. I see. All right, I was in love with Walter Blake, yes. You knew then Mr. Blake was in the habit of taking a stroll along the cliffs in the evening, and, uh... Yes. I went there to meet. And I saw them together. Walter and Mrs. Blake. When I saw the killing. Thank you, Ms. Wilson. Mrs. Blake. Yes, Lieutenant? You, uh, knew about Nadine Wilson and your husband, is that right? Oh, no, I didn't know anything about that. Then why did you push him off the cliff, Mrs. Blake? Money. Money? But Mrs. Blake, your first husband left... He left me a great deal, yes. I spent it all. That's why I married Walter Blake. Recently, for many reasons, I began to suspect he had no more than I have. I see. So you persuaded your husband to take out a $50,000 insurance policy? No. No, the insurance was his idea. Joint policy proceeds payable with the survivor was my idea. Why? Just a gesture of affection, Lieutenant. At the time, I still thought Walter was wealthy. Later, when I was sure he didn't have much money, I realized I'd allowed him to trick me into that joint policy for $50,000 a wife. I decided to make sure I would be the survivor. 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-quality automotive accessories. Many drivers, when buying gasoline, forget what a big part of the price goes for tax. In fact, every time a driver in the average western city buys a dollar's worth of gasoline, tax adds 33 cents to his bill. In other words, the tax you pay on free would give you a fourth gallon free. The future in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Bill Johnstone, Mary Lansing, and Francis Robinson. 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. Marvin Miller speaking for the Signal Oil Company. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.