 And now, stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs. Because even when you know who is 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 am the Whistler, and I know many things before I walk by night. I know many strange tales hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the 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. The Jackson Street Affair. She paced nervously, anxiously back and forth across the thin carpeting of the parlor and the house on Upper Jackson Street. A rooming house now, the ancient three-story structure had seen far better days, standing as it had through so much of the history and lore of old San Francisco. But this was present day San Francisco. And Catherine Marley, 30-ish, dark-haired, wasn't thinking of the distant past. Rather, she was worrying about the immediate future. She was worrying so much that when she sat down to light a cigarette, her hand shook. And when the doorbell sounded, she almost leaped from the chair, and then hurried to answer the ring. I'm coming. The trunk is right here in the hall. You can just... Oh, you're not... Rawlings is the name. Fred Rawlings. I just saw your vacancy sign here. Oh, yes, yes, of course. I thought you were from the transfer company. Oh, no, no. I'm from the Brisbane Star out of Australia. Merchant Marine, radio operator. Now, about the room. Oh, uh, come in. Well, I, uh, I hadn't hoped to be so lucky, ma'am. I mean, finding a room vacant here, you see, I'll only be in town a few days. I wanted to visit my old friend, Carl Penel. Carl Penel? Yes. He lives here, doesn't he? Well, he did live here, Mr. Rawlings. Did live here? I don't understand. Mr. Penel moved out just two days ago. Oh? It's odd. Actually, I'd written to him. I told him I was coming. Oh, very odd. Yeah. I'm, uh, I'm sorry. He didn't even leave a forwarding address. Well, of course it shouldn't be too difficult to trace him down, eh? Uh, his trunk here. Where are you supposed to send him? His trunk? Oh, well, that doesn't belong to Mr. Penel. It's my trunk. Oh, indeed. Well, then it is going to be hard to locate Carl, uh, no address. I don't know where to start. I, uh, I don't suppose you'll be wanting to stay here then. I mean, since Mr. Penel has moved out. Huh? Well, I don't know where else I'd stay, man. Might as well be here. I'm getting tired of toting this sea bag about. Um, could you show me to the room? Well, if you wish, I, uh... All right. This way, Mr. Rawlings. It's this floor in the back. Matter of fact, it's the same room Mr. Penel had. Oh, yes. That's a nice room, Miss Marley. Very nice. Sorry, the view isn't more inspiring. Oh, the neighbor's laundry. Oh, that's all right. That's a homey touch, ma'am. Something I miss on shipboard. So, yes, I'll take it. I'll pay in advance. Um, now, is this the closet? Uh, no, no, the closet's over here. Oh. That leads to Mrs. Finch's room. It's bolted. Oh, that's a shame. Mrs. Finch, Emma is the cleaning woman. Oh, the maid. Uh, keeps everything, uh, ship-shaped, doesn't she? That's the idea. Oh, excuse me, ma'am. I just... Oh, uh, come in, Mrs. Finch. Sorry to bother. I haven't quite finished dusting. This is Mr. Rawlings, Mrs. Finch. He's thinking about taking this room. Oh, how do you do, I'm sure. Well, Mrs. Finch, I understand that should I take the room, you and I would be, uh, neighbors. Yes, sir. My room's right next to yours. You can tend to the dusting later, Mrs. Finch. Yes, ma'am. Goodbye, Mr. Rawlings. Goodbye, Mrs. Finch. He's a colorless sort, isn't she? She's neat. Unobtrusive. That's all we ask of her. Um, how is it, Miss, if you'll excuse me asking? How is it such a pretty young woman as yourself is running a rooming house? Oh, it's temporary. I planned to sell the place soon. This was my mother's house. She died a few years ago. After you've just been carrying on until... Yes, until I can make other arrangements. Well, I hope you'll enjoy your stay, Mr. Rawlings. I'm certain I will, ma'am. Certain. And, uh, thanks to you. You don't like this, do you, Catherine? This unexpected arrival of Mr. Fred Rawling. You don't like it at all. And so you hurry quickly down the hall and tap so softly on the door of another room. Catherine, what's wrong? You look... Come into my room, Alex. I must talk to you right away. I don't see what we've got to worry about. This Rawlings is just a friend of Carl's. Don't say we've nothing to worry about. We killed him, didn't we? I'll try to sum up money. Don't forget that, Catherine. And Carl was even thoughtful enough to keep his money on him in a money belt. I'm not forgetting anything, Alex. Oh, how simple it looked. Carl Panel was lonely, we told ourselves. Lonely and rich after his uncle died. No relatives, no friends. Until this Fred Rawling showed up from nowhere. Oh, Catherine. Catherine, you're all on edge. We've got what we wanted. The money. How do we know Fred Rawlings doesn't know about Carl's money? Suppose he does. Alex, I'm sorry. I'd like to share your calm, cool manner. But the fact remains he did notice the trunk. And that trunk contains Carl Panel's body right at this moment. I won't breathe safely until it's out of this house. Wait a minute. Looking for something? Oh, I was just having a look at this old trunk here. Alex, this is our new guest, Fred Rawlings. He's in the Merchant Marine. How do you do, Alex? Hello. I could have sworn that trunk belonged to my friend Carl. That's all? It doesn't. It's Catherine, Miss Marley's. Well, I just got Carl Panel on my mind, I suppose. You folks here about Carl coming into a bit of money? What? No. No, as a matter of fact, we often wondered how he got by. Oh, it was nice for Carl. Nice for anybody to have a rich relative leave him an unexpected win for. Couldn't have happened to a nicer chap. Well, Carl, I'll be getting back to my room. What do you think? I don't know, Catherine. I don't know. Alex. What's the matter? The trunk. Those blurred initials on the side. I never noticed them before. Blurred initials? Well, FR. It's funny. It's not so funny, not so funny at all. FR, they could stand for Fred Rawlings, Alex. They could? It could have been his trunk. And he let Carl Panel use it. Alex, he knows we're lying. Engineware, engineware, engineware. Engineware, it's one of the principal reasons drivers have to spend big sums of money having their motors overhauled. Engineware, it's one of the principal reasons motors lose pep and power, get fewer miles per gallon of gas. Engineware, it's one of the principal reasons cars gradually use more and more oil until eventually they become oil eaters. No wonder automotive and petroleum engineers for years have sought ways to reduce engineware. And now at last, Signal reports startling success with an amazing new motor oil that reduces by 50% engineware due to lubrication. That means your car can now keep its like new pep and power twice as long. It means you can now enjoy low oil consumption twice as long if your car isn't already an oil eater. So if you want to be good to your car and your pocketbook too, drain out that lazy old motor oil. Have a Signal dealer refill your crankcase this week with Signal Premium, the amazing new heavy duty type oil that reduces engineware due to lubrication, 50%. Engineware, engineware, engineware. Alex shares your worry now, doesn't he, Catherine? Alex, who was so cool, so calm up to a few minutes ago. Yes, he senses the terrible peril you've both been placed in with the arrival of Fred Rawlings looking for his friend, Carl Pannell. It was a most unexpected arrival, wasn't it? Especially with Carl Pannell lying dead inside the trunk, which you think Rawlings has already recognized as one belonging to him. He knows you've lied, doesn't he, Catherine? You're certain of that. The only uncertain thing is what to do about it. Finally, Alex makes a practical suggestion. The only thing left for you to do. You've got to get that trunk out of here as fast as possible. It's as simple as that, Catherine. The devil's holding up that transfer company they should have been here an hour ago. Oh, Alex, I can't stand this waiting. I mean with Fred Rawlings snooping around. Well, he can't see you like this. You've got to get a hope. Look, we'll change the plan. You go on over to Mill Valley, the cottage. I'll wait here and see if the trunk gets on the truck. Yes, yes, it might be safer, Alex. At least till I get hold of my nerves there. I know. Go on, now drive over the cottage and wait for him to deliver the trunk. Tonight we'll bury it where it will never be found. I'll stay here, keep an eye on things, particularly on Mr. Fred Rawlings. Driving across the Golden Gate Bridge, you're still wondering if Alex is right, aren't you, Catherine? Alex, yes, he's assurance that everything will work out. At the little cottage where you hope to live after selling the old boarding house, you sit down to wait. The hours drag by like years, don't they, Catherine? And then at last you see the transfer truck pull up in front and unload the trunk. Where do you want us to put this trunk, lady? Oh, in the garage. And now how much do I owe you? It's all taken care of, lady. Tell it the other end. Oh, yes, Alex. Well, thank you so much. We were wondering if you'd forgotten this. Been busy, lady. Bigger stuff. These routine halls just have to wait. Yes, I suppose so. The routine halls have to wait, Catherine. You can't help thinking about the casual, unknowing words of the transfer man. As you lock up the cottage, get into your car and start back toward San Francisco. You feel relaxed now, secure. You'll meet Alex, have dinner with him, and then leave the remainder of the grim plan in his hand. In Mill Valley, you stop for a leisurely lunch before driving back across the bridge. After lunch, you get back into your car, and as you glance out the window, you see a cab passing, coming from the direction of the cottage. A cab bearing a single passenger, Fred Rawlings. Shocked and nervous, you drive quickly back to the cottage and run to the garage. The trunk. It's been opened. Yes, Catherine. The trunk has been opened, undoubtedly, by Fred Rawlings. You feel the panic sweep through you as you realize that Fred probably knows everything now. All about the murder of his friend, Carl Penel. You look inside the trunk, straightened up, startled. There's only a few odds and ends of clothing inside, Catherine. Carl Penel's body has disappeared. It's almost eight o'clock that evening when you arrive back in town. Rush into the rooming house, find Alex waiting for you in the front parlor. A grin on his face. Alex. Alex. I know. I know. Don't tell me. Rawlings followed the trunk out to Mill Valley, didn't he? Yes, and he forced it open. But Alex, the body... No, it wasn't in the trunk. I had a hunch that Mr. Rawlings would do exactly as he did, so I made a little sweat. But Penel's body, what did you do with it? It's in the basement, in the small room behind the furnace. What? Relax. No one ever goes in there. Besides, I moved half a dozen trunks and crates. Pile them up in front of the door. Mrs. Finch could never move them in a million years. Well, Alex, I don't like this. We've got to get rid of that body. All right. All right. We'll get rid of the body late tonight. But it's going to be risky as long as Rawlings is around. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Suppose our fine Mr. Rawlings wasn't around. Mm-hmm. The same thing that happened to Penel could happen to Rawlings, too. Why not, Alex? Why not? This is more like my old Catherine. We wait till he's in bed, asleep, turn on the gas. Look, we better get moving fast. He's not in the room now, is he? No, he went out a little while ago for cigarettes. He'll be back soon. Well, I'll go down to the cellar, turn off the gas. You go to his room, take the valve out of the gas line and the heater. Hurry. Down in the cellar, you turn off the gas. No one will notice it, Captain. You're certain of that. Because the only other gas outlet in the entire house, beside the one in the kitchen, is in Rawlings' room. You hurry back upstairs. And as you start into the parlor, the front door opens. Evening, Miss Marley. Rawlings. He's back, Catherine, isn't he, and a little too soon. Alex is still in Rawlings' room. You've got to stall Rawlings off long enough for Alex to come back. Oh, good evening, Mr. Rawlings. It's getting a bit cooler out. Yes, yes, it is. Come on into the parlor. I was going to fix a highball. Perhaps you'd join me? Um, thanks, no. Well, keep me company then. Of course. Charming room, Miss. I love these old-fashioned parlors, don't you, Miss Marley? It was Mother's favorite room. I've left it just the way she liked it. Uh, sit down, won't you? Thanks. You, uh, have a big day, Mr. Rawlings? Yes. Rather a busy one at that. So many things to do, you know. So many old friends to visit and all. Any of those old friends know the whereabouts of your Mr. Pinnell? No. I'm afraid not. Oh, that's a shame. Oh, I have a feeling I'll find the lead soon, Miss Marley. All set, baby. Uh, Mr. Rawlings, you've met Alex, haven't you? Of course. How are you, old man? Fine, just fine. What if I do? Are you sure you won't change your mind, Mr. Rawlings? Well, uh... By George, I will have one. Uh, plain water, eh? As the three of you sit, sipping your drinks. Rawlings seems to monopolize most of the conversation, doesn't he, Catherine? Yes, he's in a talkative mood, enjoying himself. And you chat for almost an hour. Finally, he announces he's going to retire for the evening. And after he's gone, you and Alex sit quietly and wait for an hour or so. And then the two of you slip out into the backyard. There ought to be a sleep by now, the way you slug those drinks. Well, I have a hunch it takes more than a few shots of bourbon to put into sleep. I hope he doesn't decide to sit up half a night and read. Oh, no, look. His room's dark. And the windows are all down. That's good. Must be a sleep. All right. You know what to do. Sure, I know. And Alex, when you turn the gas on... I know. Just a little at a time to start with. Will you just leave it to me? Back upstairs in the parlor, you pace the floor. And finally Alex returns from the cellar, drops it to the chair by the fireplace and grins at you. Then he picks up a magazine, leans back, starts to read. You continue to pace the room, and starts to dance occasionally at the clock. Look, relax, huh? Nothing's gonna go wrong. Gasping pouring into that room for almost three hours now. Mr. Rawlings is well on his way. Oh, I know. I know. Come on, have a drink and stop thinking about everything. Alex, wait. What's the matter? Someone's coming down the hall. Hello, you chap. What? Oh, it didn't mean to startle you, Miss Mahali. Sorry, are you still up? Yes, yes, we're still up. I thought you'd gone to bed, Mr. Rawlings. Oh, I started too, but I got to chatting with a fellow across the hall, McGill. I've been in his room all this time. Shooting the breeze, I believe you call it. I see. It seems I've developed a bit of an appetite. Any night eateries about? Oh, on Geary Street, you'll find several. Oh, thanks. Can I bring anything back for you, Chats? A sandwich or something? No, no, thank you. Oh, well, good night. Nothing could go wrong, Alex. Nothing could go wrong. Okay, how was I to know? You'd better air out that room before it gets back and replace the valve on the gas line. Hurry. Your little plan didn't work this time, did it, Castle? No, Mr. Rawlings is still very much alive. Very much a threat. Down in the cellar, you turn off the gas. Wait a few minutes. Give Alex enough time to put the valve back in the line in Rawlings' room. Then you turn the gas on again. So the gas in the kitchen will function normally. You go back up to the parlor. Alex joins you a moment later. How was it? Pretty bad, but I left the windows open. Most of the gas order will be gone by the time it gets back. Well, what now? Sweetheart, do we try again? No. There's bound to be some trace of gas left in the room. He'd notice it. Check the gas heater. No, we can't try that stunt again, Alex. Then what? You'll have to think of something else. Figure out some other way. And it isn't going to be easy, Alex. It's on your mind all night long, isn't it, Captain? You rack your brain for some simple way. Something that doesn't involve too many risks. A way to rid yourself of Mr. Rawlings. And by morning, you still haven't found the answer you're looking for. You're having a cup of coffee when he comes in. And you're surprised to see the suitcase in his hand. Why, good morning, Mr. Rawlings. Morning. Just popped in to say goodbye. You're leaving us? I'm afraid so. The ship's going out a day early. Didn't I tell you? I know you didn't. It must have slipped my mind. We're sailing at noon. Oh, I see. Well, I'm awfully sorry to have you leave us so soon. With a matter of fact, I'd like very much to stay on of it, but... Well, you know how it is. Oh, by the way, I have a confession to make, Miss Marley. Oh, a confession? Yes, I feel you ought to know about it, you see. Well, I thought you were trying to put something over on me. What do you mean? Oh, his sudden departure and all that, I... I thought you were covering up for him. Covering up? Why should I do that? Oh, that business about the trunk. It did look rather suspicious, you see. I recognized the trunk immediately. I'd given it to Penel several years ago. Oh, I see. And when I said it was my trunk, you were certain that I... Exactly. Well, actually, it might have been Mr. Penel's at that. There's so many old trunks in the basement, I just suppose they all belong to Mother. They probably had no further use for it. He left it down there when he moved in. And he certainly didn't mention it when he moved away. Well, anyway, I... I do want to apologize, Miss Marley. Well, don't give it another thought. Goodbye, Mr. Rawlings. And the next time you're in port. Right. I'll pop in. Say hello. You almost laugh out loud with relief, don't you, Catherine? As you hurry upstairs to tell Alex the good news. But his reaction isn't quite what you expected. So he's leaving, pulling out just like that. Of course. That's what he just told me. Yeah, that's what he just told you. What? You mean he's lying? He isn't going at all. It's a trick. I think we better go down to the docks, baby, make sure the Brisbane star pulls out and that Mr. Rawlings is aboard when she does. You better tell Emma we're going out. Oh, I will. Oh, Emma. Yes, Miss Marley? We're going out for a while. Take care of things, will you, Emma? But, Miss Marley... We're going out for a while. It's a 20-minute drive to the Embarcadero. Alex parks his car near the pier where the Brisbane star is docked. The hours go by and the two of you watch the loading of the boat. And then a few minutes before 12. She's pulling out all right, baby. Yes, and look up there, Alex. On the deck. Yeah, Mr. Rawlings, big as life. Goodbye, Mr. Rawlings. Bon voyage. Well, honey, I'd say we don't have anything to worry about anymore. Not a thing. Engineware. Engineware. Engineware. Is engineware causing your expensive motor to wear out twice as fast as necessary? It is if you're still using lazy motor oils that merely lubricate. Here's what I mean. In amazing new signal premium motor oils, special properties are engineered into the oil through the Marlborough. Special properties are engineered into the oil through the marvels of modern chemistry. As a result, new signal premium not only reduces engineware due to lubrication 50%, it also protects your motor in all these important extra ways. One keeps oil rings clean and free. Two controls and reduces harmful engine deposits such as carbon, gum and varnish. Three prevents sticking of hydraulic valve lifters. Four stops acid corrosion and rust. Best of all, signal's new heavy duty type oil gives you all this extra protection at no increase in price. Good reason to get your next oil change at a signal service station. Change this week to amazing new signal premium motor oil that reduces engineware due to lubrication 50%. Engineware. Engineware. Engineware. It's all over now. The threat is gone. Sail aboard the Brisbane Star. Now all that remains is for you and Alex to return to the rooming house and at the first opportunity get rid of Penel's body now hidden in the small cellar room behind the furnace. Then the cottage in Mill Valley and a comfortable life thanks to Mr. Penel's money. The two of you drive back to the house and as you step into the parlor you find a tall heavy set man there waiting for you. Hello. You must be Miss Marley. Yes, yes, that's right. I'm Lieutenant Kincaid, police department. I'd like to ask you a few questions. What's wrong? You had a roomie here named Penel, Carl Penel? Yes, but he moved away several days ago. Are you sure? Of course she is. Matter of fact, Alex and I saw him leave in a taxi. He said something about having to catch a train, I think. I see. I'm Mrs. Finch. Will you come in, please? Lieutenant, what's this all about? Oh, Miss Marley. Miss Marley. Emma, what's the matter? Well, it was about the gas. I tried to tell you this morning, but you and Mr. Alex were in such a hurry. What about the gas? Twice now. Two nights in one week. I smelled gas in my room. It worried me. I thought something should be done about it. So she called the gas company and they sent a couple of men over to check the house. Yes. My room being directly over the furnace, I thought maybe that's where the gas was coming from and... The gas company men checked the furnace and found nothing. But in tracing the pipes to the exterior of the house, they had to go into that small room in the cellar. No! Yeah. That's when they called the police. Mrs. Finch identified the body as that of Carl Pannell. Now, Miss Marley, suppose you and your boyfriend here come along with me to headquarters. I think you got a lot of explaining to do. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program the Whistler each Sunday night at this same time. Signal has asked me to remind you that today the Red Cross, in addition to providing life-saving whole blood and other needed help for our GIs overseas, must now stockpile blood plasma for possible civilian needs, as well as be prepared to furnish emergency food, clothing and shelter in case of disaster or enemy attack here. Good reason why this year the Red Cross needs more of us to help and more help from each of us. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, Joe Gilbert, Larry Dobkin, Martha Wentworth, Ben Wright and Herbert Lytton. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Adrian Jean Doe, 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. Stay tuned now for our Miss Brooke starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.