 The Adventures of Sam Spade Detective, brought to you by Wild Root Creme Oil Heratonic, the non-alcoholic heratonic that contains lanolin, Wild Root Creme Oil, again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. This is Sam, Blackleg Spade, the third most dangerous gamber on the Barbary Coast. Oh, Sam, not horses again. Horses, women in the gaming table, Savvy, the versions of the elite. Well, divert yourself with this, Sam. The phone company has sent the pink notice. Uh-huh, pay it no mind, sweetheart. We are healed. We have hit the cashier's cage, annexed the pot, broken the bank, and we're standing on velvet. Sam, are you sober? Uh, definitely velvet. Hmm, warm too. Sam, for where are you calling from? You're wrong, Effie. It's a drugstore. Stay where you are. I'll be right down to deal out my report on the hot hundred grand caper. Dashel Hammett, America's leading detective fiction writer and creator of Sam Spade, the hard-boiled private eye, and William Spear, radio's outstanding producer, director of mystery and crime drama, join their talents to make your hair stand on end with the adventures of Sam Spade. Presented by the makers of Wild Root Cream Oil for the Hair. It's smart to buy things the whole family can use, isn't it? That's why I say it's smart to buy Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic. To mom, to dad, to the children. Wild Root Cream Oil is really a friend indeed. Non-alcoholic Wild Root Cream Oil with lanolin grooms the hair neatly and naturally, relieves dryness, removes loose, ugly dandruff. I hope you have a big family-sized bottle of Wild Root Cream Oil in your home. Get Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. And now, with Howard Duff starring as Spade, Wild Root brings to the air the greatest private detective of them all, in the adventures of Sam Spade. A date, September 19, 1948, to robbery detail, San Francisco police, detention sergeant Walsh, from Samuel Spade, license number 137596, there, Joel. Here's the rundown on that hot hundred grand. It started pleasantly enough when my secretary, Ms. Effie Perine, cute little mouse, eased into my private office, closed the door behind her, and leaned back against it with that air of pain resignation, which generally means as a customer outside that she doesn't approve of, but that I'll see her anyway. It's up to you, Sam. She's very well-dressed, and I imagine she can afford you. How do you, uh, deduce that? Oh, she dropped her purse. I didn't get time to count it all, but there was a hundred dollar bill on top. Well, sure, and Effie. Sam. Go ahead, Sam. Oh, I don't know, Sam. Sometimes, well, there's just money. No. No, that's one of the reasons I hire you. What's the matter with it? Nothing. That's just it, Sam. She's very good-looking, cultivated, and very kind and considerate, and she seems sincerely troubled. You mean her act is a little too good. I felt that too, Sam. Thanks, Angel. I'll keep that in mind. Tell her to come in. All right, Sam. See you, Mrs. Kilkors. Thank you. Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Spade. My pleasure. Won't you sit down? Thank you. I'm Lorraine Kilkors, Mr. Spade. It's about my husband, Leonard Kilkors. Husband? Oh. We've only been married a short time. It was a quiet ceremony at the San Siro Mission. Leonard didn't want to subject me to any publicity. The difference in our ages, you know? You mean you want me to keep it a secret? Oh, no. No, except for the newspapers, of course. Naturally, all of Leonard's friends know. Oh, he doesn't have money from what I've heard. I've thought it strange, too, that such a prominent man should have such a small circle of acquaintances. I met him only a short time before I married him. He's been very kind and absolutely devoted to me, and I suppose I should feel ashamed of myself for coming to you. But there are so many things about him that are mysterious, that sometimes I can't seem to find my handkerchief. Here. Clean it up. Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you. I take it you're not a San Francisco girl. No. No, I met him at a dude ranch. Well, maybe I can clear up some of your mysteries for free. The reason your husband doesn't have many friends is because they keep dropping dead. I don't understand you. Oh, forget it. He's a big public servant. He's built a lot of sidewalks. The streets of the city are paved with his good intentions. His name is on a thousand manhole covers. If the names of his former business associates land on headstones, it's nothing to me. I got my own racket. Well, who, what? I think my husband is paying blackmail to someone. Uh-huh. And upon what do you base your suspicions, Mrs. K? It started about a month ago. He began withdrawing large sums from our joint account. First it was 10,000, then 20,000, and last week 50,000. And this morning he closed out the balance of the account. One hundred thousand dollars. Well, he's got it to span, Mrs. Kilcourt. Well, I won't pretend the money doesn't interest me, but what's behind it, Mr. Spade? Each time he withdraws these cash sums, he leaves the house without a word to me. And sometimes doesn't return until dawn. My husband is not fond of nightlife, Mr. Spade. Only a desperate situation could induce him to leave the house after dark. Yeah, so I've heard they say that's how he kept his health as long as he has. All right, you want me to trail him, find out what he does with the money. Just one question. Why'd you pick me for the job? I... I... why, your reputation? That's local. You say you're new in San Francisco. Well, I do read the local papers. Your picture was in only two weeks ago. Yeah, well, that cave, it didn't help my reputation. I like your looks. A nice, honest face. A man I could trust. Don't buy that. And I'm sentimental too. Your picture reminded me of someone who was very dear to me. My brother. Of course, you're nothing like him, really, but... But you do look alike. I suppose that sounds like a silly woman's reason. Yeah, what's your address? Well, I have a little place of my own out on Divisidero. The Balboa Apartments near Normandy Terrace. You'd better keep in touch with me there. I don't want Leonard to know. The Kill Course mansion is at 1316 Clarendon. 1316? He returns from his office around six in the evening. Do you have a car? No, I need one. Well, I don't know where he may go. Now, here are the keys to my car. It's parked in front of the main entrance. A grey Plymouth. He won't recognize the car. My... It's my brother's. Now, about your fee. A hundred bucks now. If I need more, I'll leave you now. I had an uneasy feeling I would need more. The last detective that tried to follow Leonard Kill Course had hospital insurance. I don't. But I'm a gambler at heart, so I parked Lorraine's Plymouth across the street from the Kill Course mansion and waited. At 9 in the PM, Mr. Kill Course, much, much too old for her, came out the front door and flagged on a taxi. I made an illegal U-turn and followed. The trail ended across the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County. It was a country club type building on top of a hill overlooking the bay. It did business under the name of Ernie Nogales' Racquet Club. The racquet had nothing to do with tennis. It came from two sources. The moans and groans of the customers losing money at the roulette wheels and craft tables. And the glad hand, the management threw at my quarry as I followed the men. Well, Mr. Kill Course, I'm surprised to see you. Since when you go out out to dance? Well, I thought a little nightlife might agree with me, Nogales. That sounds like you, Mr. Kill Course. I didn't know you better. I think you was afraid to go out tonight. Well, now I was thinking of buying this place to retire to. But I figured it'd be cheaper to win it at your roulette table. What's your limit here? Ten thousand, but for you, wide over the sky. A hundred grand for a starter? Any time they got you without money, Mr. Kill Course. I'm over the cashier. I sell you the chips myself. I didn't have to bother making myself inconspicuous. Everybody in the joints stopped playing to watch Kill Course while he shoved his hundred grand roll through the cashiers when no one scooped up four stacks of thousand buck chips. All right, you spin that wheel. Huh? How much you got there? Twenty-five grand. Any objections? Is that okay, Mr. Nogales? Spin it, Joe. I'm covering for the table personally. Okay, sir. A round and round a little ball goes. Fifteen pages, fifteen and... See you next time, Mr. Kill Course. Why don't you double up? Play the red and the black. It's safer. I'll stay with the numbers. Fifty thousand on fifteen. There. Spin it. It's okay, Joe. I'm still covering. Well, it's your money, Mr. Nogales. Number four page, number four and the red again. Well? Twenty-five grand more on fifteen. Look, Mr. Kill Course, go on and enjoy yourself. Take it off your income tax, but please, spend those... Spread them out a little there, those chips, huh? Looks bad for the house. What kind of a joint is this? Can't you cover the bets? Okay, Joe. You ask for it. Okay, sir. I didn't wait to see where the little ball went on the last spin of the wheel. I would have made a side bet with any taker that Kill Course wanted to lose that hundred grand. I would also have made book. You knew I was following him. As I left the table and walked out of the club, I braced myself for what usually comes next. There would either be a dead body in the car or somebody would crease my noggin with a sap. But nothing happened. I switched on the headlights and stood in a glare of them for fully a minute, but nobody even shot at me. I flushed the shrubbery. No gunman. Checked the ignition wires. No booby traps. Driving back to town, I racked my brain for some way to bring them out into the open. I felt like a man with his life savings all on one number waiting for the wheel to stop spinning, which wasn't far from the truth. Not much of a cliffhanger, but the best we could do this week. The makers of Wild Root Cream Oil are presenting the weekly Sunday adventure of National Hammett's famous private detective, Sam Spade. Here's important news on good grooming. If you want the well-groomed look that helps you get ahead, socially and on the job, listen. Recently, thousands of people from coast to coast who bought Wild Root Cream Oil for the first time were asked, how does Wild Root Cream Oil compare with the hair tonic you previously used? The results were amazing. Better than four out of five who replied, said they preferred Wild Root Cream Oil. Remember, non-alcoholic Wild Root Cream Oil contains lanolin. It grooms the hair naturally, relieves dryness, and removes loose, ugly dandruff. So if you want your hair to be more attractive than ever before, get the generous new 25-cent size of Wild Root Cream Oil. America's leading hair tonic, on sale at all drug and toilet goods counters. It's also available in larger economy bottles and the handy new tube. Get Wild Root Cream Oil, again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. By the way, smart girls use Wild Root Cream Oil too, and mothers say it's grand for training children's hair. And now back to the hot 100-grand caper, tonight's adventure with Sam Spade. Yeah. Uh, this, uh, Mrs. Kilkors' apartment? Yeah. Is she here? Yeah. Well, uh, can I come in? Yeah. Tommy? Yeah. Yeah. The detective I was telling you about, Tommy, remember? Yeah. The one who looked so much like you? Yeah. No. Oh, excuse me, this is my brother, Tommy Lane. Yeah, I mean, uh... Tommy, won't you run down to the corner and buy me some cigarettes for about 20 minutes? I have something to talk over with Mr. Spade. Yeah. Nice boy, your brother. Small vocabulary, but big feet. Well, he-he's shy. Now, what did you find out about Mr. C-my husband, Mr. Spade? He, uh, dropped 100 grand in a gambling joint, Ernie Nogales' racket club. You know it? No, but I know Ernie Nogales. I knew him and Reno before I met Leonard. He lost his license, therefore running a crooked wheel. The way Kilkors was playing tonight, that wheel didn't have to be crooked. He was trying to lose that 100 grand. But why? Why would he do a thing like that? One of two reasons. Either he's paying off the Nogales or he's paying off the somebody else and Nogales has to go between. Well, I don't believe it. Ernie is a crooked gambler, but he doesn't touch blackmail. And your husband isn't stupid enough to drop 100 grand in three turns of a wheel. Anyway, I'm not tangled with him and or the Ernie Nogales mob for 100 bucks a year of money or anybody else's. Here, take it. Well, but... And here are your car keys. No, no, wait, please. You-you can't desert me now. Why not? Well, I haven't told you everything. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to. About your brother? How did you know? The only place you get a green suntan is in a pokey. Besides, he acts kind of stir-crazy. Spent a little time in solitary, didn't he? He won't talk about it. But that's it, Sam. That's why Leonard is paying that blackmail money to Nogales. You just said Nogales wouldn't touch blackmail. Any other corrections you'd like to make in your copy before we proceed? Yes. Well, I might as well tell you everything. Why not? I knew when I came to you this morning that my husband was paying this money to Nogales. I knew, because I asked him to. You and Ernie Nogales are working together? I'm not that rotten. I didn't say you were, but you're a rotten liar. There's that much in your favor. But I'm telling the truth now, Sam. You must believe me. Everything that has happened is my fault. I've persuaded Nogales to give my brother a job in his place in Reno. They quarreled, and when he got closed down, he blamed Tommy. He swore he'd kill him when he got out of prison. That's why I begged my husband to pay him to save Tommy's life. Who did write on Nogales about that crooked wheel in Reno? I did. That's why I feel responsible. Leonard is so fine, so generous. But I can't let him go on paying for my mistake. Yeah, like you said, he's going to run out of money. Look at me, Sam. Do I look like the kind of a woman to whom money means everything in the world? No, but you're looking at me, not at Kill Course. You're laughing at me. Oh, I know what you think. Perhaps I did make a mistake in marrying Leonard, but he was so kind, so considerate, like my father. Everybody reminds you of your relatives. You don't believe my story. Well, such a wad. Well, all right then, here's the truth. I'm really Jack the Ripper's granddaughter. My parents were terribly wealthy. I harpooned my mother in her Beverly Hills swimming pool, set fire to my father with a $50,000 negotiable bond, and eloped with John Wilkes Booth. That brings us up to 1865. Shall I go on? Don't stop. It's great. Oh, get out of here. Get out of here and leave me alone. After you've told me all your secrets, I'm not that rotten. You won't help me. You never intend to do. Why go on torturing? Oh, now stop that. Please, please. I believe here. I believe all your stories. Now, what is my next smart move? Sam, the only way to stop Ernie Nogales is to prove that he's running a crooked wheel. Let me pay back all that blackmail money, and he wouldn't dare lay a hand on Tommy. It's going to be hard to prove and expensive. I'll have to lose a little on that wheel before I can figure the way it's rigged. How much can you invest? Well, I have about $1,000 of my own. With you? Yes. Here. You take it. Smells nice. Sam. Yeah? Sam, after all this is over, and after I've put things to write with Leonard. I should have told him before this, but I owe him so much. I... Oh, Sam, I'm so glad it's you. Yeah, me too, Angel. Go now, darling, before I beg you not to. What time is that joint closed? Well, it runs all night, I think. Good. Let's stay up late and raid the icebox. Around 2 in the a.m., when I low-geared the Plymouth up the long, steep driveway to Ernie Nogales' racquet club, backed into the parking space nearest the road with a car headed downhill for a quick getaway just in case, and I went in. The joint was still going full blast. I bought 500 bucks with a chip, swaggered over to the table where a kill course had dropped this 100 grand, and nonchalantly flipped the blue chip onto the red. Appalachia bitch, ladies and gentlemen, make your game. Okay, that's all. Around and around the little bar goes, and... I didn't look to see where the little bar went. Most of the money was on red, so it was bound to turn up black. A red page? What? Not number 15. Place your bets, please. Make your game, ladies and gentlemen. Around and around again. The chips were spread around more the next turn, so I stacked 100 at the bottom of the 1 to 34 column. With a crooked wheel, my 100 made it the best bet to lose. And 19 and the red wins again. I plunked 500 down on number 5 and raked in 17,500. I left my original bet on the table. When the little ball fell into the pocket, I was 35,000 bucks to the good, from my point of view, but not from my clients. I doubled my bet and looked apprehensively around. There were no surly characters edging up behind me. In fact, the only surly character in sight was Ernie Nogales, and he looked happy. That didn't make much sense. When my bankroll got to 105,000, I played a hunch. I threw five grand of it back on the table and lost it. That made a kind of sense. I cashed in the rest of my chips and squeezed the 100 grand U.S. currency into my inside pocket. If anybody aimed for my heart, it was thick enough to stop the slug, which was some comfort. But what I saw when I walked out to the parking lot was no comfort at all. I'd gotten just a glimpse of it through some trees. A sedan backed into a driveway halfway down the hill. It was blacked out, except the five glowing cigar ends that showed through the windows. I could think of only one reason for five cigar smokers to be parked in that particular spot at that particular moment. The Plymouth is where I had parked it, pointing straight down the hill. I slammed the door, but didn't get in, and I listened. The car down the hill was getting ready too. I cracked the door of the Plymouth, widened it to get my arm inside, and pressed the starter with a heel of my hand. I switched on the lights, pushed the clutch with my left hand, used my right, the shift into the low, and I pulled the hand throttle out all the way and let it go. I got the idea busting into my office. We're going to have a talk now, Gallus. Please, don't wave that heater at me. It makes me nervous. I don't like guns. I don't either. That's why I'm here. Put your hands on top of the desk and keep them there. Give me back that roll. I give you clean money for it. With a gamble, so I lost. Can you blame me? Where'd you get this money? I buy it. 50 cents on the dollar. I don't ask where it came from, but I read the papers. I figured it was that ship roll, that shipyard payroll job a few days back. Like it just fell in my lap, I figured you'd make 50 grand instead of kill course five. I guess that was dirty trick you just out of service, Tommy. I had news for you now, Gallus. I didn't know this money was hot, and I am not Tommy Lane. No? Then what? Private Dick. Tommy's sister hired me to take the fall for him. Look, I got most of the cap. A kill course wanted to pay Tommy 100 grand. You rigged the wheel, so kill course would lose it one night, and Tommy would win it back the next night. Now, what was kill course paying him off for? No caper. Legitimate. He was sent up for bribing a public official. You mean he was the payoff man for kill course's contracting fund? Sure. Legitimate business. The grand jury went out after kill course. Tommy took the rob. That's all for a price. Yeah. 100 grand. Thanks, no, Gallus. That's all I needed. Oh, Sam. I was afraid I might be too late. You are, sweetheart. Oh, I have so many things to explain. Where, where, where can you talk? Right in here. But who's this man? Well, that's your old sweetie from Reno earning the Gallus. Remember? What's the matter with you two? You crazy? Oh, Sam, I should have told you the truth from the beginning. Check. Well, the Gallus, you aren't going to understand her. Why did you tell me you were kill course's wife? I was desperate. I had to say something. It was the only explanation I could think of for my interest in this case without telling the truth. But you were making a pigeon out of me. I don't know about such things. Sam, all I know is I'm here in time to warn you. You mustn't walk out of here with that money. Listen to me. They may kill you to get it back. They already did. They're combing the wreckage of that car right now looking for my body. Then Tommy was right. They did mean to kill him. How'd he get the rumble? While he was in prison from another man that killed course framed. He was in for life, so it was safe for him to talk. Hey, you two. Yeah, no, Gallus? That car that they just drove up. I think that's Mr. Kill Course. Hey, watch your hurry. Let me go. Let me go. Come on. Watch your hurry. Tommy's out there in that cab. I've got to warn him. Or tip off kill course. Which is it? No, Sam, you've got to believe me. Sit down. I don't got it. Stop that. You two have fun. I'm getting out of here. Go ahead. Now, listen, sweet Lorraine. You may as well save your breath for those explanations. You're staying right here until the cape is all wrapped up. Here he comes. Have you got a gun, Sam? Yeah. Well, you do better have it ready. But Sam... There's no Gallus. I want to see him. He was called out of town, sir. I'm in charge. You must have killed course. That's right. I want to know why you people have been interfering with my business. It might interest you to know that this building site's on an old Spanish land grant. Title's very shaky. I'll run an eight lane highway straight through the middle of it and turn the rest of it into a game preserve. That's what I do to people who double cross me. I tried to tell Mr. No Gallus that, sir. He wouldn't listen to me. He tipped Tommy off for a split of a hundred grand, but I knew sooner or later we'd have to answer to you, Mr. Kill Course. Well, what's that? Here's your hundred grand, sir. Count it. Sam... Well, well, well, well. What's your name, son? Sam Spade, sir. Well, I'm glad to meet an honest lad. Well, come along. Are you too young, lady? We'll all walk out together. Sam... What are you... What? Spade, huh? Yes, sir. I'm a private detective, but I'm ambitious. Politics? Yes, sir. Well, we'll run you for assembly. In the meantime, I believe there's an opening in one of the public services. Garbage disposal, executive end, of course. Well, that devil is that man with my car. Oh, there he is. Now, you drop around to my office in the morning. Thank you, and good night, Mr. Kill Course. Yes. Drive on, Horace. Back to the city. Oh, Sam, how could you? All those lies and just handing over the money like that, it wasn't yours. It wasn't Tommy's, either, sweetheart. Get in. Well, Tommy, are you all right? Yeah. Drive us across the bridge, Tommy, will you? Yeah. Tommy. Yeah? Tommy, I'm afraid we'll have to do without the money. Yeah? Sam gave it to Mr. Kill Course. Yeah? Now, don't get excited, Tommy. I'm sure Sam had a reason. Didn't you, Sam? Yeah. I mean, that was marked money from a payroll job. Oh, then it won't do him any good. It'll set him up for a good, long stretch of the eyewitness story that goes along with it is good enough, and you're just the girl to tell it, sweetheart. Am I right, Tommy? Yeah. Sam. Yeah? What happened? Who were the five men in the car, the ones who shot at that Plymouth in the mistaken belief that you were in it? Their names are of little account, Evie. Suffice it to say that Kill Course pointed his pudgy finger at them in the hopes of keeping the charge of attempted murder out of his indictment. But I was too clever. I identified them. But Sam, you didn't see anything, but there's cigars glowing in the darkness. Have you never heard of Sherlock Holmes monograph and the 49 varieties of tobacco as you fool? Oh, but Sam, Sherlock Holmes is only the segment of someone's imagination. He's a fictional detective. Well? You mean... Oh, Sam, you're tired. Yes, I am. It's affected your mind winning all that money. Now, you just sit here and rest. Oh, I... Think of the snowy mountain tops and blue skies. I'll just go and tighten this up. Snowy mountain tops. Winter sports yet. And now, listen to this. If you haven't yet tried Wild Root Cream Oil, the famous hair tonic that grooms your hair neatly and naturally, relieves dryness and removes loose dandruff, then here's a wonderful way to get acquainted. Buy Wild Root Cream Oil in the new 25-cent size bottle at your drug or toilet goods counter. Also, ask your barber for a professional application of Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. That made any difference, but how did you guess that she wasn't Mrs. Kilkors? Simple. Kilkors didn't recognize it. But, Sam, that was after you denounced her. I did know such thing. From the report, Sam and Black and White, quote, why did you tell me you were Kilkors' wife, unquote? At that point, you assumed that she was not Mrs. Leonard Kilkors. I did not. I merely wanted why she had told me. Well, with all the lies she told, you might have assumed anything she said was totally devoid of truth. And I did, sweetheart. I did. Oh, oh, well, that's a relief. I was afraid for a while she'd taken you in. What's that got to do with the truth? Good night, Sam. Good night, sweetheart. The adventures of Sam Spade, National Hammett's famous private detective, are produced and directed by William Spear. Sam Spade is played by Howard Duff, Lorraine Tuttle is Effie. Sadie Thompson appeared as Lorraine Kilkors. The adventures of Sam Spade are written for radio by Bob Tallman and Gil Dowd. Musical direction by Lud Gluskin, score composed by Renee Garagang. Join us again next Sunday when author Dashel Hammett and producer William Spear join forces for another adventure with Sam Spade. Brought to you by Wild Root Cream Oil. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. This is Dick Joy, reminding you to... Get Wild Root Cream Oil, Charlie. It keeps your hair in trim. You see it's non-alcoholic, Charlie. It's made with sooth and linolein. You better get Wild Root Cream Oil, Charlie. Start using it today. You'll find that you will have a tough time, Charlie. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.