 Standard of California, on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West, invites you to let George do it. The motif is murder, another adventure of George Valentine. Personal notice, tange is my stock and trade. If you're running a poor last and your whole life depends on your finishing and the money, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Dear Mr. Valentine, Enclosed our three $100 bills to arouse your interest and claim your attention. Now, consider my problem. I've committed three murders. The police have seen no connection between the victims. Dr. Douglas Chepin, Stella Tafanya and Otto Pfeiffer. But there is a connection. A theme to these deaths has definite and perfect as a motif in the work of Wagner. I want you, Mr. Valentine, to provide me with the appreciation of an intelligent man. And exhilarating knowledge that from now on, you'll be an obstacle in my path. I shall phone you at two this afternoon. No signature. How thoughtless. But what do you make of it, George? I'd say somebody was funding me, Angel, if it weren't for these three century notes. Well, he sounds like a well-educated man. Or a woman for all we know, but the handwriting's like a child. These names here, they don't ring any bells from me, but they're made for Lieutenant Riley. And, Brooksy, if we find the three people on this letter in the file for unsolved crimes, there's going to be a refreshing and deadly calm about the good lieutenant. Dr. Douglas Chepin, well-known surgeon. Stella Tafanya read the bumps on your head, the lines in your palm and your future in a crystal ball. And Otto Pfeiffer, honest, hard-working diamond cutter. Now, find me a motif in that combination, Valentine, and I'll eat it. Well, let's skip that for a minute, Lieutenant. The fact remains that whoever wrote this letter knew about these crimes. And they weren't exactly front-page stuff. You yourself said that Otto Pfeiffer's name never even got into the newspaper. Missing persons is working on that, Miss Brooks. The man simply disappeared. Yeah, but I correspond in assures as it was murder, wherever the body might be. Dr. Chepin's death was tagged as a suicide or an accident. Take your choice. He was taking a smoke up on the roof of St. Mary's Hospital after an operation. The next thing, they were picking him up off the street. Which leaves us with only one murder as such. Yeah, Stella Tafanya. Well, that crazy gypsy probably told one of her ignorant superstitious customers something he didn't want to hear and he beat her brains out in the back of the store. But you still don't know who it was. Unfortunately, no. Well, then it's possible that the three were murdered by the same person for, well, for reasons we don't know yet. And he's paying good money to you to try and catch him. Well, maybe we're dealing with the loony here, but I can't take any chances. I don't want to sound like an old killjoy, Riley, but this character isn't stupid. I doubt if he's going to let his telephone call be traced. Well, just the same, I'm going to set things up for the telephone company. I'm going to have another phone put in your office and trust the luck. Okay. Two o'clock then, Lieutenant. Now, have you got everything straight, Miss Brooks? All I do is get the special operator on this phone as soon as the call comes through to George. Then if he can hold the call long enough to be traced, I flash the information to headquarters on this emergency. Yes. And a whole fleet of squad cars will be at the address wherever it is in a matter of minutes. Well, it's almost two now, Lieutenant. Look, Valentine, when you get on the phone, wind up and talk as long as you can. Say anything, even if you have to stutter, but keep the conversation rolling, see? Right on the button. All right, Miss Brooks. Got it, Lieutenant. Hello? Valentine. You can start working on the call. What can I do for you? Suppose you tell me what this is all about. You sound as though you know who this is. Yeah, you're very punctual. Now, about that letter... Never mind that. I'm calling from... Would that be located at the state hospital for the insane? I also know the shortest time it takes the operator to track down any number. You can be sure I'll hang up before then. What else do you know that's interesting? Rallo, have you read any good books lately? Yes, there is something else I know. You've also got a police lieutenant in your office. You're all right, Busty. It's going to be fun playing with you. Yes, and I welcome the odds against me. It'll make the triumph completely satisfying, like the final flourish of a great symphony. Assuming you did kill those three people, friend, you mean you're going to continue on your merry way? Let's leave idle conversation for another time. I'm able to stop me. Would you mind repeating that? You've heard none of our... Wait a minute, wait a minute. Tell me something. How do you pick out your people? What have you got against this girl? What did you have against the others when... hung up? All right, Miss Brooks. You can forget it. Well, Valentine, what do you say? The gentleman on the other end of the line wants us to be sure and keep tomorrow open. He'd like the pleasure of our company at a murder. It's all right if I take in my morning milk. Isn't it, Mr. Valentine? Sure, Miss Evans. Here, I'll get it for you. Thanks. Isn't it rather silly you and the police patrolling this building all on account of a letter from some crackpot? Well, now wait a minute. You forget I spoke to that crackpot. He mentioned your name with more than more of a delight. Come in, won't you? I'm going to be barricaded in my own apartment. I may as well have someone to talk to. Someone interesting. Here's your milk. Thanks. Special skim milk. I really hate the stuff, but I have to think of my figure. Which is the height of irony. Honey Evans, the girl with the most beautiful hands in the world. My public never gets to see the rest of me in the ad. Poor public. My next door neighbor practices like that for hours. Well, it's one thing you can't blame on Lieutenant Rallige. No, seriously, Mr. Valentine would want to kill me. Why haven't an enemy in the world? Haven't you ever heard of people having a compulsion to kill just for the thrill of it? No reason at all. Well, that's what's got a stump, Miss Evans. This man says he has a reason, which applies to you as well as the other three. You know, I think I'm really beginning to feel a little buttery around the knees about this whole thing. You have a marvelous knack for understatement, Miss Evans. Now go ahead, have your breakfast. Hey, Lieutenant, I think I'd better check with Miss Evans again. Why, what's the idea? Nobody can get into that apartment without passing us here in the hall. She is beautiful, isn't she, Lieutenant? If you keep on being so subtle, Angel, no one will ever know what you're talking about. I merely said it. Wait a minute. And where do you think you're going, Miss Evans? I'm sorry to spoil your fun, Lieutenant Rallige, but I've got to go out. I've got a call. Duchess Jules wants me to model some bracelets for them. That can wait till tomorrow. Oh, no, it can't, Mr. Valentine. I've been waiting ages for this account. It means a great deal to me. Full-page ads in all the national magazines. Miss Evans, we can't use force, but I'm telling you... And I'm telling you, Lieutenant, that... Oh, George! I've got it. Miss Evans, what's wrong with you? You better get an ambulance, Rallige. This girl is dying. The coroners report Ray Cecilia Honey Evans, 14.36 grains of tetric myoside in stomach of deceased. Remaining milk and bottle found to contain nearly eight grains of same. Cause of death beyond doubt. Poison. Quick, Proxy, the other phone. Get the operator. We can go crazy doing this with every phone call at company office. Yes. Everything went off very nicely. Didn't it, Valentine? So well, Rallo, that you almost made me an accessory. I brought that bottle of milk into the girls' apartment. Now listen to me, friend. I'm gonna get you if I have to crawl into this phone and over every mile of copper wire to where you are. Tell me more. Hey, I got a surprise for you, Rallo. The next time you're gonna be just another all-so-ran with a murder-rap staring you in the face. You think who ordered that special brand of skim milk should do another bottle delivery? I still say you're not gonna get away with it, Rallo. Tomorrow? Hey, now look, what do these people do to you? Why are you doing this? You can't be so crazy that human life means nothing. Be quiet, Valentine. I don't have much time. Proxy, you can hang up now. Oh, I guess you're right, operator. Thanks. George, he must be timing himself with a stopwatch. He knows just how far he can go. That time they almost traced the exchange he was calling for. I know, I know, I know. Well, what gives with Rallo now? Murder. What else? Hello, Lieutenant Riley, please. This is Valentine. Then he's going right on. Yeah, but he's making it a little tougher for us. He's trying... Oh, yes, Lieutenant. Just got another call from him. No, no such luck. Well, he's got another shindig scheduled for tomorrow. Will you take it easy, Riley? I've got a hunch that's so crazy it might just work. All I want you to do is let me play it my way. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Anyone who has ever run a vacuum cleaner knows it has to be emptied at regular intervals or it's no go. Same thing holds true for your car's engine. That's why a crankcase drain and a refill with compounded RPM motor oil at regular intervals is so all-important. 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He actually names his intended victim and still neither you nor the police can prevent him from striking. Then another call. This time you only get the street block where you can expect mayhem to break out. All of which, if you're anything like George Valentine, suggest something as wild as the whole setup itself. All right, Valentine, you've practically memorized that list and it better pay off. I had half the men in the department canvassing that neighborhood. And the 1,200 block on Corona Del Mar is King's side. Yes, and we've got the name of every man, woman, and child address, occupation, commons. Thanks, Riley. This is really some job we've got handed to us. Okay, okay, so we blanket the whole street with plain clothesmen, but we can't keep people from going to work. We can't check on every delivery man or salesman who wants in or out. We can't... Look, Valentine, would you stop staring at that list? What do you expect to find? The name of the person who's next on role of schedule. I don't see how this can tell you. Riley, while you and the boys cover the block, Mr. Clarkhohn, piano teacher, 1236, Corona Del Mar. I don't want to be an old nosy, but why? And I don't want to raise your hopes too high, Lieutenant. So, suppose we just call it a while, stab and see if it works. Murder? Please, young man, I have no time to talk about unimportant things. Your murder, Mr. Clarkhohn, would you classify that under the heading of trivia? Please, look at what time it is. My pupils will start coming soon. Ah, I didn't listen to that. My new piano. Never before have I had such an instrument. Yeah, well, that's just swell, but you gotta believe me, Mr. I didn't come here just to pass the time of day. This man I told you about means business. Young man, I learned to be a fatalist, a philosopher. Three years, I was in a concentration camp. And still, here I am. Yeah, yeah. A new life in a new country. A new piano, plenty of pupils. And anyway, who'd bother killing an old man like me? Saw you see? Hey, wait a minute. You said this piano was new? How new? This morning, they chose to leave it. That's why I'm so happy. Take your hands off that thing. Go away. What's the matter with you? Say we are, Clarkhohn. Keep your hands off that keyboard. What are you doing, young man? Just having a look inside this piano. Oh, brother. You don't know how lucky you are, Pop. What do you need? These little wires, this detonator cap. Somehow our unknown playmate found out this was being delivered today and managed to wear it for sound. And I mean sound with a capital boom. I do not understand. Sooner or later, you would have hit a certain combination of notes and this whole place would have blown up. You with it. I... I better sit down. The philosopher is not feeling so well. Very lucky. Both of us. Phew. Move over, Pop. I think I'll sit down too. Valentine, what is this business about a motif, a theme in the work of Wagner? Well, my hunch about Clarkhohn wasn't so wild after all. Think back now. A surgeon, a diamond cutter, a gypsy palmist. Now, what's the common denominator for all of them? Well, none that I can see. Hands, Angel. Hands. All their lives revolved around hands. The sensitive fingers of a surgeon. Thousands of dollars depend on the way a diamond cutter handles his mallet on a precious stone. And Stella Tafanya made a living reading the palms of people's hands. Sure. And Honey Evans, the model with the most beautiful hands in the world. And Mr. Clarkhohn, the piano teacher, the same thing applies to him. Okay, Valentine, maybe you've got an answer as to why this guy... Maybe that's Rollo. I'll get over to the other phone. Don't bother, Brooks. He's too smart for that. Yeah, hello. I underestimated you, Valentine. Let me congratulate you on saving Clarkhohn. Well, thanks, Rollo. Thank you for your necessity. Meaning? I'll have to figure out details and call you later. But my next move must, unfortunately, shatter the beautiful pattern I had all worked out. Yeah. Well, Riley, just what kind of metal pygmies are we? Don't make me answer that now. I don't exactly feel like Einstein. And I feel as confused as a mating moth. Now, look, it takes just so long to trace a telephone call, and Rollo knows that. Well, we're going to make two parts out of the operation. The first time he calls, we trace the prefix, where the phone is located. And that's all. But an exchange covers a lot of territory, Jim. And he'll never stay on the wire long enough for us to find out the exact number. Yeah, but I'm going to make Rollo call me back a few minutes later so we can be sure he's using the same phone, or at least the phone in that district. Then all we have to worry about is getting the number. Say, that's an idea. It might work. Ah, but wait, how do you know if for sure he's going to call back? Lieutenant, if I know my customer, I think I have a way. Oh, well, darling, I'm worried. You're going about this as though it were just another case and that means to kill you. You know, the same disconcerting thought keeps occurring to me, too, Bruxy? All right, Valentine, you hit on something, but here's what we're going to do. You don't have to bother with that other phone this time, Miss Bruxy. But why? I'll rig it up so that any call that comes into this office will flash a red light on the switchboard down at headquarters. We'll work the whole deal out from there. Well, let's save any time, Lieutenant. No, no, but that way we'll be in constant touch with every squad car in the city, and as soon as we find out the exchange, there'll be order to converge on that district. Yeah. Hey, you know, Riley, you and I make a pretty good team. Maybe one of these days I'll join the force and you and I will... Yeah, you do, and I'll... Well, I gotta get going. I think I smell my fudge burning. All right, Bruxy, if that's Riley, you got the pitch, operation run around. Yes, George. Don't play it too big. He may get suspicious and hang up. Now go ahead. George Valentine's office. Mr. Valentine, please. Mr. Valentine just stepped out. Well, just a minute, maybe I can get him before he reaches the elevator. This ought to give us a few seconds. Well, better not make it too long, George. Hey, I know a way to waste a couple of seconds. Hello? I wouldn't call that a waste, Don. Thank you. Thanks, Miss Brooks. Hello, Valentine. I thought you'd like to know that I have made up my mind how I'm going to dispose of you. Oh, I'm vaguely interested, Rallo. But this time I'm going to do the talking and you can hang up whenever you feel like it. But I think you'll stick with me. What's that? I told you once you weren't going to get away with it. Now I'm sure. I know enough about you so I can really grease the skids under you. It's just a matter of time. Let me tell you about yourself, Rallo. I know you're a pianist. Probably a very well-known artist once. Then something happened to your hands. That's right. Go ahead. Take a look at them. Suddenly you couldn't give any more constants. Your whole life came to an end for you. You had to have your revenge against the world. Stop it. Stop it. Where hands played an important part in anybody's life you set out to destroy them. You were the one playing the piano in the apartment next door to Honey Evans. Thinking about it now, that was a pathetic performance. And you're handwriting a miserable sprawl. I won't hang up. No, this time I'll hang up. In a few minutes I expect more information that'll make it easy to put the arm on you. How did you pull all that out of your hat? A little elementary deduction and a generous helping of guesswork. Musical references, motif, Wagner. And he knew enough about Clark Holmes' piano to turn it into an atom bomb. Oh, that Brooksie and he's as mad as a coot. Yes, but will he call you back? If he doesn't, we're right where we started. He's sweating blood, Angel. He's all mixed up. That cookie won't rest until he finds out just how much I do know about him. Attention, all cars. Proceed to district covered by the Wadsworth Exchange. Repeat, Wadsworth. Bounded by Elmira, Jensen and Morton Streets. And the south side of McCary Boulevard. And step on it. That's all. Riley. Okay, Sergeant, let's get going. I was thinking of something else. Valentine happens to be in the Wadsworth Exchange. Still, you couldn't resist calling back, could you, Rollo? There's skillful deduction on your part. You don't actually know too much and it doesn't order my decision one bit. Oh, that's nice. Let's hear about it. Oh, no. Time is running short again. You know the three minutes it takes to trace a call. Oh, George, I can only take so much suspense. Well, we know Riley's got the exchange. But were they able to get the number? A second, one way or the other, makes all the difference. Rollo said he's coming to get me. Oh, Donna. Oh, figure of speech, Angel. He likes the elaborate touch, that's all. He wouldn't just walk in here and blow my brains out. Where's that coming from? The next office? Yeah. The same thing that was being played the morning Honey Evans was killed. But it wasn't played that way. This isn't just a coincidence. I'm going to see what this is all about. Get back inside, Valentine. But you're the man who has the office next door. Don't try reaching for your gun. We'll have a bullet through you before you can raise a finger. My hands are still good for something. Too bad the young lady has to be here. Now, she'll have to go, too. Wait a minute. Look, you can't... If one must die, music like that should make it somewhat more acceptable. Val Streest played by Gerald Midens. One of my most famous recordings. Next door all the time. So that's how you know almost every move I made. Think of all the times you saw my name on the door. Gerald Midens, concert manager. Fifteen years ago it was Gerald Midens, a promising young pianist. Why should I have had a stupid, reasonless accident? Why couldn't it have happened to someone like the four you know about? That's what's been driving me out of my mind. I'd expect wholesale homicide to change any of that. These hands, these fingers, long. You'd imagine sensitive, but they're dead things. Only the faintest trace of feeling left in them. Oh, don't do this, Mr. Midens. The police will understand that you're sick. You don't know what you're doing. My name on the door may not have suggested anything to you, Valentine, but yours did to me. It inspired this little game. But it's all over now. All over for you. Now, over there, both of you. You must be needing that. See that he behaves, Sergeant. Oh, Lieutenant, do you mind if you kiss a grey-haired old lady? Oh, brother, you must have made it here a nothing flat. I was only over on Tenth Street when we found out it was the office next to yours. Someone mind turning off that record. Val's cheased. The melancholy was. It's over now. Did you notice our new neighbor in the next office? Yeah, yes, I did. Pamela Stodgworth. Society secretary. All social functions correctly managed. Weddings, especially. Coke with her down the drugstore, and, well, Miss Stodgworth wants to meet you. So did the last tenant. In fact, Pamela gets absolutely a garg at the very mention of your name. Oh, and why would that be? Well, she thinks if you really got to know her, well, you might start thinking of romance, orange blossoms, old shoes, and a shower of rice. Oh, Angel, I realize you always have my best interests at heart. But do you really think it would work out why Pamela is at least 60? No comment. If you're a mother, maybe you drive the kids to school every day. Or if you're the breadwinner of the family, maybe you use the car to drive back and forth to work. In either case, you probably run into traffic lights and lots of stop-and-go driving twice a day. And what can be a better feeling than knowing your car will give you steady, dependable performance at all times. Fast starts, steady pickup, forced beady getaways, and extra power for hill climbing. For this performance, you can be sure of when you have a tank full of Chevron Supreme gasoline. Well, this high-octane gasoline is specially blended and climate tailored to get command performance out of your car in every driving condition. It's like fractions command fast starts every time you use the starter. And it's perfectly blended to command steady, powerful acceleration whenever you give it the gun. That's why you hear so many motorists saying, Chevron Supreme gasoline keeps my car going steady. It's premium-quality gasoline tomorrow. Get Chevron Supreme at standard stations and at independent Chevron gas stations where they say, and mean, we take better care of your car. Next week, when you tune our way for another adventure of George Valentine, you'll find a very distraught Bruxy waiting by a roadside as... Hey, Bruxy, over here. Oh, George, are you... Have you got that prescription, Bruxy? Let me have it. Here, but what... Now, get inside and take the wheel. I can't. Oh, George, you know, you're scaring me to death, don't you? Oh, that makes a couple of scared people. Let's just hope this stuff works or you'll be looking for a new boss. I'll step on it. Tonight's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West. Let George do it stars Robert Bailey as George with Frances Robinson as Claire. Wally Mayer appears as Lieutenant Riley. Tonight's story was written by David Victor a secured Herbert Little Jr. and directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Ed Begley as the murderer, Mary Ship as Honey and Herbert Butterfield as Pluck Home. The music is composed and presented by Eddie Dunstetter, your announcer, John Heaston. Listen again next week, same time, same station to... Let George do it. This is the Mutual Don Lee Broadcasting System.