 Listen to Herbert Marshall as the man called X. Wherever there is mystery, adventure, intrigue, in all the strange and dangerous places of the world, there you will find the man called X. Bill Thompson. That's not important now, Ken. What is? I'm in a mess, and I don't know what to do. Can you get over to my house right away? I'm right up to my neck in the filthiest game that's ever been played. It's a job for you and the Bureau. I'm sorry, Mr. Thurston. That's exactly what happened. I didn't even know Bill had come home yet. I was in the living room with Mr. Connors here waiting for him. We heard the shots in the den. We rushed in and we found him. Easy Nancy, easy. Any idea why he was killed, Mrs. Thompson? No, Mr. Thurston, I swear. There was no reason, Thurston. There couldn't have been. Bill Thompson didn't have an enemy in the world. Jim's right. It just doesn't make sense. Of course it doesn't. Bill just back from Korea, a wonderful new job. We were so happy. And then this... What was this new job? Well, he was working for a man named Weaver, George Weaver, selling stocks and bonds. That's right. Weaver Investment Company. They put Bill on as a customer's man, paid him a healthy salary plus commission. It was a good deal. You must have been pretty close to Bill's and know all these things about him, Connors. I was. Did you work with him at Weaver's? No. We got to know each other pretty well between Pusan and Heartbreak Ridge. So he gets through all that and then comes home to this. Yeah. Well, thanks for your trouble, Mrs. Thompson. I won't bother you anymore right now. Well, what are you going to do now, Mr. Thurston? Try to answer a couple of your questions. My questions? Who killed your husband? And why? All looking for someone? I'd like to see Mr. Weaver. Well, I hate to disappoint you, honey, but that jolly little rascal just ain't in now. When are you expecting? That's kind of hard to say. He don't hardly ever keep what you might call regular office hours. I'm Mary Jane. Mary Jane Walters, that is. Can't I do something for you? Maybe you can, Miss Walters. I'm looking for some information about investments. Tell me, what kind of securities do you handle here? Well, nothing but the best, honey. Stocks and bonds and things like that. Did you want it? Well, now for heaven's sake, what you all expect that is? Mice in the wall? Oh, sure. There you go. Much as I hate to do it here. Let me get that gag out of it. There you are. Boy, that's better. There you go. What the devil's going on here? What happened to you? It was the dame that did it, Mr. Thurston. What dame? The one standing in back of you with that gun in her hand. Gun in her... Now you went and done it to Mr. Thurston, too. Well, sure enough, sugar, I reckon I did. So as I can get on about my business. What kind of business? Well, I got a little old job to do, sugar. Murder. How are you doing with those ropes anyways, Mr. X? I'll be rid of them in a minute. Your girlfriend's handling it with a gun, and she is with knocks. That female I need joke laid, no friend of mine, Mr. X. Then maybe you better explain what you're doing here. Sinch. You didn't want my invaluable assistance here in San Francisco, so when I bumped into that Bill Thompson friend of yours, I took a job with him. Bill Thompson? So that's how he knew I was in town. Oh, sure. Anyway, he asked me to watch the office here for him to let him know when that Mr. Weaver showed up. When did he show up? He didn't. Nobody but that Mary Jane Cookie. And when I made a pass at... I mean, when I asked her what she wanted, she conked me. All right, Peter. Let me get your ropes off. You've got work to do. Work? What kind of work? Finding Mary Jane Walters. Finding George Weaver. Maybe finding murder. Well, that George Weaver ain't home, Mr. X. So let's go. So get out your knife and pick the lock. Oh, Mr. X, what kind of talk is this? Go on, open it. Okay, okay, okay. You know, but this is against the law or something. So is murder. Now what? We go in. See? What did I tell you? Nobody home. Take another look. Mr. X. Yeah. Who? Who is it then? He was George Weaver? That's my guess. Y'all know George Weaver, honey? Y'all right? Well, so we meet again, Miss Walters. Why'd you kill him? Now, honey, laugh. Y'all don't really believe that I'd do anything like that, do you? I found him like that when I came here to collect the money. What money? Why, the money Y'all and Mr. Weaver stole off in my poor, widowed sister. Now, suppose you would tell us just how we stole that money, Miss Walters? Y'all know right enough. Send her to that check after her husband Charlie got killed in courier. Using it as a come-on so she trusts you with the rest of her money. Yeah. Let me get this straight. After your sister learned that her husband had been killed in courier, she got a check from the Weaver Outfit, is that it? You know it. Telling that with some dividends on some investments he'd made before going overseas. Had he invested money with Weaver? Well, the check sure looked like it. And Bill Thompson said so too. Thompson? That's right. Showed up a couple of days later. Dished out a smooth line about how her husband wanted to set her up financially with more investments in case he was killed. Only didn't have time before he shipped out. Ah, the old story. Mailing a fake dividend check to a widow is a come-on so they could sell her a lot of phony stock. That's what happened, all right. Thompson and Weaver walked right off with the $10,000 she got from a GI insurance. Thirtiest racket in the world. Robbing the widows of men killed in courier. Stealing their last cent of insurance. Hey. I almost thought that friend of yours, Bill Thompson, was such a nice guy. He wasn't in on it. But you just said... They must have been using him. Frontman. When he found out what was going on, he called me on the phone and they killed him before he had a chance to talk. Who killed him? Weaver? Weaver's dead. Now there's somebody else mixed up in this. Mr. Big. And until we get him or her, well, we haven't stopped this dirty con game yet. Then what you're all fixing to do now? I don't know, Miss Walters. I just don't know. You're wasting your time. It's just a local racket. It'll blow over. What worked in San Francisco can work anywhere in the country, Chief. Let's me put a stop to it. Meanwhile, what about you? Stymied right now, aren't you? Not quite, Chief. I've still got a... Okay, I'll take it. Talk to you later, Chief. Right, Ken. Thanks. Hello? Mr. Jane Walters, can you get up to my sister's house right away? What's up, Miss Walters? Some man's been up there threatening her. Better come right away before you find yourself with another dead copes on your hands. I'm thicker than my cousin's Grisha's head. Is this trip really necessary, Mr. X? Why do you suppose we're making it, Pagon? Well, I can't even hardly see what you're driving. Nothing but that white fog in front. We could drive right off the mountain and not even... Woo-hoo! You see what I mean? We won't even know when we'll get to the joint. Mary Jane's at her sister's place has fog lanterns at either side of the driveway. We'll spot them easily enough. Oh, sure. Where are my eyes out looking for lights? And for what? Maybe just to run into somebody else with guns? Oh, quiet. Keep your eyes peeled. Yup. There are the lights now. So what? So we drive between them, park the car and see what's up with Mary Jane's sister. Hey, Mr. X, this ain't no driver. That's a cliff. A cliff! Hang on, Pagon! We'll return to the man called X in just a moment. Because of the increased birthrate during and since the war, an extra seven million children are going to be seeking an education. Right now, there are not enough classrooms or equipment or books, and above all, there aren't enough teachers. America will need almost a quarter million more elementary school teachers within the next seven years. This is to take care of the extra enrollment alone. It is over and above the hundreds of thousands of young teachers who will be required to fill normal vacancies. Today, more than ever before, teaching offers an attractive career for intelligent, imaginative young men and women who are attending college or high school. Teacher training courses are available to you students who wish to prepare yourselves, and millions of youngsters will be waiting for your services. The need for teachers has never been greater. The opportunities have never been finer. Now act two of the man called X starring Herbert Marshall with Leon Balasko as Pagan Zelchmit. The brutal murder of his friend Bill Thompson served as Ken's introduction to a vicious swindling racket, one whose victims are the widows of soldiers who have died fighting in Korea. Ken learns that one of those victims has been threatened, and he and Pagan drive through a blinding fog to her mountain home. But as the car turns in between two fog lanterns, supposedly marking the driveway, the road ends abruptly with a steep cliff, and before the car can be stopped, it lurches off the road. Pagan, you all right? He drives me over a cliff on top of a mountain. He wants to know if I'm all right. Well, that answers the question. And we didn't go over in a cliff. Huh? Oh, well then, you did see it. We only wound up in a ditch. Come on, let's get out of here. Boy, oh, look at the drop of Mr. X. That was a couple of feet. Oh, what happened to the driveway, anyways? Over there. Over there? But those fog lanterns said this was the place. How did the driveway get moved? It didn't. Somebody moved the lanterns. Easy as that. Oh, that's ridiculous. They could go people like that, having them drive right over the... Oh, Mr. X. My sister can't tell you nothing about those lanterns, Mr. Thurston. She just ain't here. Then what can you tell me about them, Mary Jane? Oh, you conners. Well, you can't prove anything by me, Thurston. The lanterns were beside the driveway when I drove up here. How long ago was that? About a half hour ago. Just driving around in the fog? Or do you make the habit of looking at the widows of soldiers killed overseas? Are you accusing me of something, Thurston? I'm looking for an explanation, conners. Now, there's no need for the two of you to get all riled up this way. I can explain everything. That'll be refreshing. My sister was too scared by those threats she got to stay around here. She left for the airport, heading back to dear old Georgia. So you waited for me instead? That's right. And conners? Miss Waller's called Nancy Thompson to see if she'd been threatened too. And to get your hotel number. I was there at the time and decided to drive out here to see if I could be of any help. Well, I trust you're all satisfied now, Mr. Thurston. About everything with the Lentons and those threats your sister got. Oh, there. Some dirty old skunk called her up on the telephone. Told her to keep her pretty mouth shut about her insurance money being taken or else. A man or a woman? Well, now, it might have been a man. Then again, it might have been a woman. My sister wasn't any too clear about that. There doesn't seem to be anything too clear about this whole setup. Well, as I can tell, Thurston, you're just running around in circles. If I am conners, I'm bound to wind up back where I started. With Bill Thompson. And his widow. I'm certain that I'm right, Mr. Thurston. There just wasn't anybody connected with the firm Bill worked for except Mr. Weaver. Hmm. Tell me Nancy, how did Bill get into the investment business with him? Oh, he met him at a veterans' organization. You see, Mr. Weaver was interested in Bill's former outfit. And then from then on, well, the next thing we knew Bill was working for him. It seemed like such a wonderful break for us at the time. And Bill was so pleased with the idea of being able to do something for the families of his buddies. Then it all turned into this horrible nightmare. Wait a minute. Were most of Bill's customers the widows of men who served with him overseas? Well, yes. Well, what an idiot I was for not... Thanks, Nancy. Thanks? For what? Straightening out a circle for me. I'll get you a complete list of all the casualties in Bill Thompson's outfit, but what the devil you wanted for. Suppose you'll bring it out here in person, Chief. And I'll show you. That's right, Mrs. Richards. If you get any dividend checks in the mail, any phone calls or personal visits, please call me. You'll save yourself a lot of money and grief. That's right. And thanks for your time. Goodbye. Well, that's it, Chief. The last of them. You've left that same message with every woman whose son or husband was killed in Bill Thompson's outfit overseas? Well, everyone in the Bay Area, yes. Okay. Then where do we go from here? We don't, Chief. What? We wait. What for? For the person we're after to make the next move. Yes, of course I do, Mrs. Carson. It came in the mail this morning. I see. Good. Thanks for letting us know. We'll be right over. How about it, Ken? Is that it? Chief, Mrs. Soul Carson got a dividend check in the mail this morning. Who was it from? An outfit called the Thornburg Security Company. You never heard of them? No. But they're going to hear plenty from us. Everything's okay, Mr. Rex. I got this little dingles attached to behind it, but you're my call. Good, Peyton. What about you, Chief? All set here, Ken. This room's really wired for sound. Those microphones will pick up every whisper. Good. How do you feel about it, Nancy? Better to go ahead? You know I am, Mr. Thurston. There's nothing I wouldn't do to get the man responsible for Bill's death. That's one of the reasons I asked you to play the part of Mrs. Carson in the first place. Yes, I know. Well, what happens now? The man from the Thornburg Security Outfit made an appointment with Mrs. Carson over the phone for ten this morning. When he gets here, you're Mrs. Carson. I see. Play along with him. Let him sell you an investing with him. He'll arrange another appointment to take money from you. And you'll be recording it all in the next room? Every word. And when he shows up the second time? You'll give him the money. $10,000 in Mark Bill's. And then? We close in. Morning at the same time, Mrs. Carson. You will have the money ready in cash? Oh, yes, I'll have it ready, Mr. Thornburg. And thank you. Believe me, you'll never regret it. I know it'll turn out the way your husband wanted it. Yes, I'm sure of that, Mr. Thornburg. Bye. That's it, Ken. Act one. Ken, tomorrow, act two. Thank me for the rest of your life. Okay, Ken, we've got him. Let's move in. Hold it, Chief. But before he's taken the money, we've got the whole thing recorded. What do you want to wait for? I want him to get away. But Ken, oh no, please do as I say, Chief. By the time we're through, we'll wind this thing up for good. That Thornburg character isn't wasting any time getting wherever he's going. Mr. X, where is he going anyways? To pay off $10,000 to his boss. Hey, who's his boss? We'll find that out when we get there. Yes, yes! You mean if we ever get there? Trailing that character up these mountain roads ain't any joke. Make it easy. He's turning off the road now. Hey, that's right. He's going to get to that driver with the lanterns hung on the side. Lanterns? Mr. X? Yeah. We've been there before, Pager. $800, $900, $1,000. There it is. $10,000. Cash. Mrs. Saul Carson was a pushover. Yeah, okay. Now here's your cut. Thanks. Well, where do we go next? And whoever it is, I hope she's as easy a mark as that little brunette. Brunette? What brunette? Well, Mrs. Carson. If I ever saw a luscious, dark-haired baby, she was... Wait a minute, Thornberry. Are you telling me Mrs. Carson's a brunette? Well, sure. With blue eyes? Pretty as shade of blue you ever saw. Nancy Thompson. What? Saul Carson's wife was a blonde. That easy mark he used was Bill Thompson's widow. Come on, we got to get out of here. Wait a minute. I don't get it, Jim. What's this all about? Time for explanations later, Thornberry. Thurston. That's right. Looks like your racket's over, Connors. Oh, you did straighten out that circle. Sure, but Nancy's helped. She's the one who tipped me off about your sucker list. They were really pushers up for your con game. Hey, but where does that cute cookie Mary Jane fit in, Mr. Thurston? She doesn't, Pager. But this is her sister's room. Connors must have talked with her, letting him use it. Thought it might be safer headquarters for him when I was around. It's still safe, Thurston. Don't try it, Connors. Hold it there. You two, Thornberry. Okay. Okay. All right. All right, Thurston, you win. Oh, why didn't you really give it to him, Mr. X? That's all that no good deserves. No. No, you can't. I got to write the trial to the protection of the courts. Did you give Bill Thompson a trial? Did you rob the widows of your own buddies in the courts? Their husbands died to preserve the rights you're trying to crawl by now. And you holler for justice. Okay, Connors, you'll get what's coming to you. The American way. Due process of law. And now here's our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall. Thanks for being with us. And my thanks to Gene Tatum, Lillian Bayef, Will Wright, Paul Fees, and Byron Kane. The title of next week's show is The Clicking Buddha. Sounds almost cute, doesn't it? But the Clicking Buddha holds one of the most insidious weapons of destruction ever devised. Oh, and Leon Bolasque will be along as usual as Pagan Zelschmidt. So join us, won't you, when next I return as the man called X. Good night. A man called X starring Herbert Marshall is a J. Richard Kennedy production with music by Milton Charles. Tonight's story was written by Sydney Marshall. This program is directed by Jack Johnstone. All characters and incidents in this program are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual characters or incidents is purely coincidental. And now until next week, same time and station, this is Hellgipney saying good night for the man called X. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.