 The Adventures of Sam Spade Detective brought to you by Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic, the non-alcoholic hair tonic that contains lanolin. Wild Root Cream Oil, again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. Spade Detective Agency. Are you still there? I believe that interpolation is hardly rhetorical, Mr. Spade. To what have you been up with, you'll pardon the expression, and has that girl regained her facilities? I wouldn't know, but her faculties are as good as ever, if you'll pardon the expression. Mr. Spade, sometimes I think you're a regular philanthropist. What do you mean, philanthropist? How much money did you make out of that case? Well, I broke even, anyway. That's what I mean. You're a philanthropist. Well, you know best, Bernadine. By the way, was that man really murdered with a buzz saw, or was that just publicity? He really was, Bernadine. Why? It just happened to be one lying around. Oh, I don't mean that. Why was he killed? For the Wheel of Life. Oh. You're not going to ask what that is? Some curio, no doubt. Listen, Bernadine, the Wheel of Life is, uh... I suppose I don't have to tell you to stay where you are. Just sit quietly with your book in your hand, and I'll be right down to dictate my report on the Wheel of Life 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. Come on, mister. Give the gals a break. Treat them to a look, see, at a really handsome head of hair, neat, well-groomed hair, the way yours is going to look when you spruce up with Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic. Famous Wild Root Cream Oil grooms your hair neatly and naturally, relieves annoying dryness, removes loose, ugly dandruff. So, how about it, men? Why hold off any longer when now is the time to 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. Ready, Bernadine, little flower? I'm way ahead of you. Keep it clean. No more than three erasers per page, okie-dokie? Ok, I mean dope, I mean date. Oh, I'd love to. July 11, 1948. To Detective Lieutenant Dundee Homicide Detail, San Francisco Police. Subject, the Wheel of Life Caper. I don't go away from it. I don't know why these things always have to happen to me. Under private detectives in the San Francisco Classified Directory, they're listed somewhere in the neighborhood of 60 agencies, several with large display ads. But somehow, she managed to find me. It's all so strange, Mr. Spade, I hardly know where to begin. Well, the beginning is always a pretty good place to start, Miss O'Farrell. Yes, the beginning. It was like waking out of a nightmare you can't remember. Everything seemed out of proportion. Even the buildings along the street seemed to be leaning at a crazy angle. And then I realized I was traveling down a hill. I looked wildly around for something to help me get my bearings. There was a street sign, O'Farrell, stuck in my mind, so I gave it to your secretary when she asked for my name. And what's your real name? I don't know. I don't know who I am, where I came from, or where I'm going. Mr. Spade, I'm so frightened. Now, wait a minute. A lot of people suffer from temporary loss of memory. Most of them recover. But amnesia is a sickness, and I am not a doctor. Oh, and you won't even try to help me? Well, I can give you the name of a good head doctor right here in the building. There's also missing persons. But I'm not a missing person. I'm right here. Yeah, I mean, where you aren't, somebody might be missing you. In a spa? But the police. Oh, I'd rather not. I might be wanted for some crime. How do I know? You sure you want to find out? Oh, yes, I do. I do. It's terrible not knowing. But I want to find out for myself. Can't you understand that? What do you think I can do for you? You might save my life. From what? I'll try to tell you exactly how it happened. First, I looked at my watch. It was three minutes past 10. The cable car stopped at the corner and a man got on. I couldn't remember ever having seen him before, but then I couldn't remember anything. He sat down beside me and he caught hold of my arm. I tried to pull away. Well, you can see the marks where he... Yeah. Well, who was he? He acted as if I were... I think I know what you mean. Did you find out who he was? No, no, I was too frightened to speak. What did he say? He sort of growled it out of the side of his mouth, but it sounded as if he said, Lathrop wants to see you. You remember anybody named Lathrop? I can't remember anything before three minutes past 10 this morning. Well, let's go on with since then. You said somebody named Lathrop wanted to see you and then what? I went into a panic. I managed to jerk away from him and I jumped off the moving car and then I looked in the classified section and I found you. Why me? Well, I don't know. The name, I guess. A spade to dig up my past. Please, Mr. Farrell. Do you think I'm very silly? No, I think you're very beautiful. I wish you could remember whether you're married or not. Oh, no! At least I have no wedding ring. What have you got? I mean besides what's visible. Well, I couldn't find much of anything. I went over my clothing. There don't seem to be any marks of any con. Well, you got any money? A little over $300. Let's have it. The purse, too. Uh-huh. Lipstick, aspirin, bobby pins, Kleenex. Nothing here. They couldn't have been bought in any drugstore. Powder. Hey, what kind of powder is this? Then there was this in my coat pocket. The Sailor's Rest Bar Hotel Calcutta. $1,100 in Baccadero. A little number right there inside. $120. What's that, a room number? I don't know. My purse, do you have to destroy it? Here's $10 of your own money. Buy a new one. Wow. Do you find something? Coin. Chinese bit. Good luck piece. Probably sewn in by whoever made it, maybe in China. That ring any bells? No. No, I'm afraid none. Shoe. What? Your right shoe. Let's see it. Take it off. You aren't going to tear it up the way you did the purse, are you? Dust. Plastic dust. Is that a clue? I don't know, is it? I'm not a detective. Well, you are in this case, baby. If it doesn't mean anything to you, it doesn't mean anything. What doesn't? That's everything. What am I going to do? Well, let me see. First, we better give you a name. Well, Ferrell's all right. You look like, uh... Juana would do, but no, that's in use. Uh, how about, uh, Poppy for forgetfulness? Poppy, oh, Ferrell. That's a funny name. Oh, you think so. I think I like it. You do. I think I like you, too. I like her, too. There may have been blanks in her brain, but the rest of her figured. In the elevator, I started adding it up, and by the time we reached the street floor, it came to quite a tidy sum. Where are we going, Sam? Far, I hope. But, uh, first, we're going to find a place to stay. Well, yes, we must be practical. No use overdoing it, huh? Oh, no, Sam. I didn't mean... Wait! Somebody remember something? That man, the one who followed me this morning, he's standing right out there waiting. The one in the straw hat leaning against the newsstand? Yes. Where are you going, Sam? You stay here. I just remembered something I hoped I could forget. Hello, Shuggy. What brings you back to town? Do I know you? That doesn't matter. I know you. The name you were using when you blew this down was Shuggy Bellows. You wouldn't take the risk of showing your face here again unless the caper was worth it. You've got a big nose. Keep it clean. You've been telling that girl all day. Why? Damn what, Dan? Who's Lathrop? I don't remember. Okay. I'll give you a chance to think it over. Hey, officer! Your daddy, Shamash, Ellen... Come on, or you don't care. Here, now! What's going on here? Break it up! Oh, Mr. Spade. He's just felt like giving you trouble now. Yeah. What kind of a beat are you pounding here, Clancy, letting a cheap grifter like this walk around with an armpit full of gun? Or are they handing out permits to characters like these this day, or these days? Well, no, uh... How about that, son? Uh, have you a permit now? Get a gope, copper. Oh, so? What is them clever lads he is? What? Come along, me buck, go before I lose my temper and give you your lumps. Okay, I'm coming. That's better now. What's your bludge, Mr. Spade? I'll pay you for this, Shamash. And a gope to you, too. I was sure he would, but I was also sure that I wouldn't have to worry about him for the rest of the night. I checked Papio Ferro, entered the Belvedere, locked her in her room, and told Tiny Stover the house-tick to keep an eye on her. When I left him, he was, and he seemed to be enjoying his work. Then I headed for the Embarcadero. I found the Hotel Calcutta, but I couldn't find a lobby. There wasn't any. It had been squeezed out by the sailor's rest bar. So I tried the Bosentite bartender. Howdy, mate. You got business aboard? Yeah, where do I find the person? I want a shore. All the officers want a shore, except for Janitor. He's passed out in his bunk. How about the passengers? You're in a thick of them right now. They spend most of their time and their money right here. Which one belongs to 120? You a dick. Yeah, but I got 10 bucks. Well, what I can tell you ain't worth it, but thanks anyway. He stayed in this cabin. I only saw him at once. That's when he went to shore. I says to the deck store that's room clerk to you. Who's the general? He says name of Coralinko. I noticed him because he was a real creep. See, six foot four of solid brass. His head stuck up my hand. He didn't move nothing from his stand to his shoulders. A real Frankenstein. And do I keep it then? Yeah. Do I get a look at his room? Yeah, sure. Go ahead. Who's stopping you? So I went. Nobody stopped me until I opened the door to 120. Then I stopped myself. It was an inside room with one small window and an air shack. It looked as if a flurry of snow had blown in. The floor and the rest of the flat surfaces were sprinkled with a fine dirty white powder. It wasn't snow, it was dust, plaster dust, like the stuff I'd found in Poppy's handbag and on her shoes. I shook the place down, not expecting to find anything. I didn't until I opened the wardrobe. It was the body of a well-dressed ship surgeon, but his uniform was rumpled, torn, and blood stained. And the look of him his throat had been cut. I knew that Poppy would be able to jog her memory that far back. When I found the murder weapon, I hoped she couldn't. I really did. It was not a knife, it was not even a razor. It was an electric buzz saw. That tore it. The makers of Wild Root Cream Oil are presenting the weekly Sunday adventure of Dashel Hammett's famous private detective, Sam Spade. 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 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? Better than four out of five who replied said they preferred Wild Root Cream Oil. And no wonder, Wild Root Cream Oil grooms the hair neatly and naturally, relieves annoying dryness, and removes loose dandruff. What's more, non-alcoholic Wild Root Cream Oil is the only leading hair tonic that contains soothing lanolin. So ask for Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic 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 Wheel of Life Caper, tonight's adventure with Sam Spade. Times being what they are, I could use a little publicity. And so could you, Lieutenant Dandy, what were the elections coming up and you with no promotion all these years? This one time I got it instead of you and wished I hadn't. The morning papers called it the Buzzsaw Murder and went on shamelessly from there. Horror killing related by private eyes, Stan Slade, ex-Pinkerton man, mum on Mystery Woman. Elderly Sleuth, Dodge's photographer, denies hotel visit, was in bed with Apple and Good Book, says paper. There wasn't a word of truth in it, mainly because nobody could get at the facts. I wasted most of the day down at headquarters trying to find out what name Shuggy Bellows had been booked under and I dropped in at the Belvedere. Poppy had checked out. I decided to get back to my office and drink poison. I hardly got the desk drawer open when a sobering influence walked in. It was a mister six feet four of solid brass. The Frankenstein had been described to me by the bartender as the occupant of Room 120. Excuse me, I am Corlienko. Please, I shall sit down. I am so heavy. Make yourself at home. Oh. Mr. Slade. Slade. Excuse me, I am so heavy. I am Corlienko. So you told me, I am really spayed myself. So, why are she hiding from me? Who? That girl, Miss Padgett. Her, I am paying one month in advance, $300 American. Me, she have dessert. I am not rich, only moderately wealthy. But you understand, it's not a question from money, it's a loan. That ship's doctor, he was most kind to me. He cared to me even after I arrived. Now he are dead for his pains. He's dirty trick. Yeah, yeah. Yeah, I know how you feel. Now, if you'll take it a little easy, I think we'll get father. You say this girl's name is Padgett. And she traveled with you. From Macau, da. There she is, the Florence Nightingale for Portuguese hospitals, forcing me to employ her, all others being Chinese nuns. That figures. You sick? No, only I am so heavy, they are breaking my back in traffic accident, a rickshaw collusion. You're wearing a plastic cast? Yes, like a turtle, I am close with my neck, sticking out, look. See, now it is better as before, the ship's doctor trimmed the rough edges with buzz saw, I can walk. But is like soot from armor, for which I alive, look. I looked again where he opened his shirt front, exposing the gray white shell of plaster that surrounded his trunk from collar bone to hips. In a six inch circle over the left side of his chest, I counted four bullet gauges. I dug one of the slugs out and examined it. It was 32 caliber. The plastic cast which was molded to the shape of his body was no more than an inch thick. I didn't see how it had stopped the slugs, but it had. About then, the parts of coral anchor that were not held rigid in the cast began to tremble violently. Why are they doing this? Why? To a virtually helpless man? Why, Mr. Spade? Why, why, why? Where did you have that cast put on? Don't I said Macau? The Portuguese hospital there? The same. They are hanging me up with the neck and plastering me. Comes a great pain, they put me to sleep from anesthetic. I, I am waking up in ambulance arriving at shipboard. Why you wish I should tell you my operation? More important things that should be disgusting. I think so too. I think Miss Padgett and her friends had something they wanted to smuggle out of Macau and into San Francisco and you're it. Oh, excuse me. I, I am not comprehensible. Look, I mean, while you were out with the anesthetic, they planted the goods, whatever they are, in or under your cast. Oh, oh, that is why I am so heavy. The wheel, the wheel. What? The wheel, look, I show you. He hauled a Manila envelope out of his overcoat pocket and waved it on my face. I took it over to my desk and fished out the contents. It was a set of X-ray films. Three of his spine showing the fractures, four of the skull, three I couldn't figure out and one of his rib cage, only something new had been added. In silhouette, it looked like the wheel off of a child's wagon. What is it, this wheel? What to do? What to do? Six months, I must remain in this straight jacket. If I remove it, I die. If I keep it on, they kill me together, smuggled. Well, you look to me like the luckiest man alive. That whaler or whatever it is, saved your life by stopping four slugs. But still, I shall die. How shall I die? When shall I die? Your best advice is, please. Colonel, I think you'd better die right now. Excuse me? It's the only safe place for you. The morgue. I called my friend Maxi the morgue man, gave him pitch number 137596. He agreed to play along. An hour later, I stood on a curb, head bowed, had in hand as the morgue wagon drove away into the gathering mist. Stay facing the way, uh... What do you want, Shuggy? I want to blast this gun straight through you, and I will if you give me an excuse at all. You sound like you mean that, Shuggy. You're getting smart, Shamus. I get going. Where to? Mr. Lathrop wants to see you. Oh, Shuggy, dear boy, you've not failed me this time. This will be the fable of Mr. Spade, eh? Come in, come in, come in. Ah, sit down, Mr. Spade. We'll talk. Tell you guns will get that pistol out of my ribs. Oh, yes, indeed, Shuggy. You mustn't overdo it. And get him out of here. I'm tired and nervous, and my price goes up a thousand bucks every minute he's in this room. When I get the 10,000, I kill him, then the price jumps to 100 to take care of me on a murder rat. I should ought to plug you downstairs. Come, come, Shuggy, don't be ungracious. You wait in the other room now. I'll be right back. I'll get mine later. Oh, dear. His bite's much worse than his bark, Mr. Spade. Don't start boring me so early in the evening. I came here to talk about the wheel. Oh, so you know about the wheel? I do better than that. I've got it. That may well be, but, uh, do you know what to do with it? I got two possibilities. I can turn it over to the cops and you with it, or I can sit on it until it hatches. Quain conceit, sir. Round and round the little wheel goes, and where it shall stop, nobody knows. That's where you're wrong. It stops right here. See, you better start placing your bets. Just what do you mean by that, sir? There's part of it. What is it? It's one of the slugs you're gunsled through at Coralenko. I got three more just like it that I dug out of him before he was carried to the morgue. Well, huh, an advantage I'll admit, but, uh, hardly worth your while to take advantage of. Don't be too sure of that. Just, uh, how much do you know about the wheel? So far it's been worth two human lives to you with the risk of your own. That tells me all I need to know. Oh, no, not quite. Men have been killed in hold-ups for a few paltry sovereigns, but the wheel is a horse of another color. Let's not change wheel horses in mid-stream, Mr. Lathrop. You must understand that the wheel has no absolute finitive value. Monetarily speaking, the British Museum might pay close on to 5,000 pounds, hot as it is for the privilege of returning it. Occidentals aren't the pucca-soyeds that they once were in the Orient. The theft of the wheel, if countenance by the Western powers, would have most grave consequences, most grave. Are you attending, sir? Wake me up when you get to the point. Ah, well, the point, sir, is this. That little wheel, that little wheel of gold, is the wheel of life, which the Buddha himself has said to have received into his hands from paradise. Now, given such a relic, a few old Buddhist monks can set up a shrine which even in the most miserable surroundings can attract enough pilgrims to outgrows Radio City, Madison Square Garden, and Miami Beach in season. To say nothing of high alia. Yes, quite. In short, we propose to act as booking agents for the wheel on a royalty basis with the percentage of the house. Why did you bring it to San Francisco? Oh, cat, sir. Were we to bargain in the Orient, we should be hacked to pieces in our beds. I'll settle for a lump sum and let you do the bargaining. And your price, sir? We can talk money later. First, I gotta give the cop somebody for the doctor's murder and for Coralenko. Uh-huh. Well, that ought not to be too difficult. When may I expect delivery? I'll check on it. I went down to St. James infirmary. City Mark. Maxi, Sam Spade. Yes, Sammy. Deal's okay. Send it up. The address is... Sam, Sam, wait. Yeah? Sam, you ain't here no more. What happened? Somebody claimed him, a guile. It said she's his daughter. What did he do? What I'm playing dead like you told him to. Maxi, where did she send him? Avalon mortuary, Conor Lynch and Hate. Okay, by the way... Yes, Sammy? Maxi, put some clean sheets in that morgue wagon, size 16. I may be your next passenger. At the Avalon mortuary, the night watchman let me in. He said Mr. Coralenko's daughter had brought an overnight bag and was keeping a vigil by his beer in slumber room number seven. I approached on tiptoe. Just as I reached the door, I heard the most terrible sound I've ever heard. It was a buzzsaw biting into plaster. How deep I didn't like to think. I did the first thing that popped into my head. I grabbed a lamp from a console, smashed the bulb, and plunged it into a vase of flowers. His luck would have it. Slumber room number seven was on the same fuse box. His luck would not have it. I was facing a desperate woman in the dark. I hugged the carpet while she emptied a gun. I hoped she didn't have a spare. I forgot about the buzzsaw. The room lighted up momentarily from the lights inside my head, and I staggered back against the wall. I waited for her to get her bearings again. There was no hope of me getting mine. Then I heard a big hollow thud. The whole room shook and the lights went on. Papio Farrell and or Padgett lay on the floor under the stony weight of Coralenko plus 60 pounds of plaster. Get up! Get up! You're crushing me! I can't. I'm so heavy. You, uh, you comfortable there, Coralenko? Comfortable in such situation? Do you ask the turtle, are he comfortable? Is Faker unbed of nails? He's equally here as elsewhere. Yeah, okay, okay. Just hold her there until I get a statement. And he did. Item, statement by the aforesaid. It was like waking out of a nightmare you can't remember. Everything seemed out of proportion. That was her story, and I had to admire the way she stuck to it, but if you keep trying, I'm sure she'll get back enough of her memory to confess that she planted the Wheel of Life in Coralenko's turtle shell when she decided to double-cross Shuggy and Lathrop. They never tumbled to her hiding place. They were gunning for Coralenko because they thought Papi was working with him, which was trilling away, but not the way that they thought. That's why they tortured the doctor in an effort to learn Kay's whereabouts. I understand your boys have picked up the rest of the trail, and they can tell you everything except why I conceived the brilliant idea of having Coralenko play dead. Between you and me, Amnesia's a handy little gadget to have around, Dundee. I'm trying to draw a few strategic blanks myself. Period. End of report. Pardon me, Mr. Spades. Yes. There are just a few little coincidentals that I do not find entirely reprehensible. Such as? Well, I don't want to appear lucid or anything of that type. Believe me, you doesn't. I mean, don't it. Oh, you say the sweetest thing. But it's about the wheel. Oh, yes, the wheel. Well, I'll tell you what you do. You type that up. I've got a call in about that now. Tonight, when you're making out your must-do list for tomorrow, why not include a reminder to get Wild Root Creme Oil for the hair? Honestly, man, you'll be delighted with the neat natural way Wild Root Creme Oil grooms your hair. The way it relieves that annoying dryness and removes loose, ugly dandruff. Just try it and see if I'm not giving you a good steer. Make a note right now to call it your drug or toilet goods counter for Wild Root Creme Oil. Get the big economy bottle and the handy new tube that's easy to pack when you travel. Also, ask your barber for a professional application of Wild Root Creme Oil hair tonic. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. Why? I certainly didn't. No, we won't know about that for six months. Because definitively, I mean, definitely, that plastic cast has to stay on them. Doctors' orders, you know. Oh, but I won't be here six months from now. You can say that again. But I won't be here six months from now. Stop repeating yourself. But you just said you can say that again? Yeah. Just as distinctly as if I was sitting here. Uh-huh, that's what I like about you, Bernadina. A woman of distinction, that's what you are. Well, if you want to take me dancing, why don't you just say so? It's sleepier, and I always say discrimination is the better part of value. You are absolutely corrupt. Well, I'm glad I'm right about something. Good night, Mr. Spade. Good night, now save it. It kills me, sweetheart. Gildow directed tonight's broadcast in William Spear's absence. Join us again next Sunday 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... You better get Wild Root Cream Oil, Charlie. Start using it today. You'll find that you will have a tough time, Charlie. Keepin' all the gals away. Hiya, baldy. Get Wild Root right up. Being a volunteering for the U.S. Army or Air Force, here's a word of reassurance. As an Army and Air Force man, you'll become a skilled professional in a specialized field. The training you get will always be useful, not only in military, but in civilian life as well. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.