 Listen now to the adventures of Sam Spade, starring Howard Duffin, the convertible keeper. Detective Agency. Me, sweetheart. Sam! I knew you'd have the turkeys to come back and face it. Well, I'm back, Evie. What shall I face first? You didn't do something else, did you, Sam? Besides what? Besides running away with that woman in a stolen car. You're a little mixed up, Evie. The car was stolen from her. You mean it was her own car? Well, not exactly, Evie. You see, she stole it from somebody else, and then somebody stole it from her, and then I got it back for her. Well, it must have been quite a car to be worth all that trouble. Well, it wasn't so much the car, Evie, is it? Bobby? Then I don't understand. Think it over, sweetheart. I'll be right down to dictate my report. Can't you take no-fun answers? And just what do you mean by that, Miss Perrine? Claw marks are the same. Wrong again, sweetheart. She said yes, I said no. Hence, discretion. I knew she was that type the minute she walked into this office. That ankle bracelet and green nail polish. Green nail polish. Well, cute colors. This one goes to homicide, Evie. Oh, not another murder, Sam. What else? Two detectable tenants and me from Samuel Stade with her license number 1-2-7-5-9-6. Subject, the convertible kicker. Dear Dundee, it has been a dull morning, but just before lunchtime, things began to brighten up. Her clothes looked like money, unless they were wrapped around, unless even better. She eased herself into the chair I pushed up for her, rattled about a thousand bucks with a charm bracelet at me, and after she'd arranged her legs, mouth, and eyes to our mutual satisfaction, she allowed me to hear the sound of her beautiful voice. I do not know whether you would be interested in my case or not, Mr. Stade. What's your mind at rest, Mr. Stade? It's rather sad. Who knows? Perhaps I am merely a waste of time. My time is your time to stay in the station, Mr. Stade. Oh, you are very impartial, very kind. And, Dundee, my automobile has been stolen. When and from where? Last night, after midnight, while I was taking in at the hotel stand after y'all, what I am saying, I foolishly left to pass outside with the keys in it. Have you reported this to the police? No. I suggest you do not. No. No? No. Oh, why not? Because I stole it from another. Oh, I see. No, but you do not yet know all. If the police find the card and notify the one from whom I stole it, then that one will know that I am a South African. And that's bad. Ah, he finds out. If he finds out I am a South African, then he will come here and kill me. That is why I must recover the car rapidly and without the police. You will be glad to meet me. It's a very pleasant, Mrs. Strada, but my car is not exactly in my line. You wish that I... I don't think anybody would murder you just by stealing your car. Oh, not for the car, no. Already, he tried to kill me once. Why three times? So I take the car and drive away rapidly. Go away from where? Mexico State of Chirara, where the pig resides who wishes to murder me. Why? Oh, he drinks, he becomes a beast. He accuses me of... Look, look here on my shoulder, the scar. Well, already he cuts me with a knife. Uh-huh. Now you have seen something that changes your mind about me, huh? You see that I am confused. Why, Mrs. Strada, I never had any doubts. Oh, please. I knew that friend. You would call me... me, OK? Yes, indeed. Oh, and now we are saying... Any car is hitting the pig. Hmm. Hey, what's this pig's name? Pig is the only name I will honor him with. Pig. Pig. Hmm. Yeah, what make a car is this? They answer. You know this kind of car? Yes, a foreign car. I've seen a few around. This must have set the pig back several thousand bucks. Huh, he steals everything. Listen, my darling, please notice. Around here is pink. With blue fenders. Uh-huh, not anymore. That's the first thing a car thief changes. The paint job. Any other distinguishing marks? Distinguishing marks. Yes. Ah, you think. Uh, each has a radio. You don't say. Uh-huh. And it has two windshield wipers. Uh-huh. Well, uh, I'll buzz around me too. If I find anything, I'll let you know. Uh, my C is... Yes. Yes, that's something else. I have no money. Oh, that's great. That's just great. But I am sincere. You said so. Look, my darling. Keep this. It is worth very much. See? This little charm alone. Platinum, said with diamonds, worth very much. You will keep it until I pay you, eh? I'll be your driver. I'll see you later. She thrust the charm places into my hand, fit me on the ear and the front it. I put a band-aid on it, ran some cold water over my head, rubbed myself with spits like a bourbon and examined the bracelet. The dangles she pointed out was a white metal disc with a monogram and diamonds to vertical bars with a horizontal and on top. It was the Greek letter pi or the initials pt, depending on who had stolen it from whom. I knew it was at least worth my fee. I dropped it into my pocket and went out. My first stop was over on Mission. A sign on the building says, masterpiece auto-painting, Joe Rembrandt, the pilot. Sam, long time no see. Hello, Joe. Got something you want painted? No, but I think you may have painted something I want. Sam, you know me. They drive them in the front. We spray the paint on them and push them out the back. No questions asked. That's quite a turnover, Joe. Yeah, we're going big time. Got the clues of now for the synagogue work in the hill. Is that right? Yeah. What are you looking for, Sam? A motor car? Could be. It's a custom job, foreign car. Here's what it looks like. Yeah, incredible. Sure, come in this morning. Two-colored job. Which two-colored? Canary yellow body, baby blue fender. Yeah, quite a car, Sam. Quite a snazzy heap. Heap, huh? Yeah. Tell what you want to know. It was. Happy Herman Heap was one of the biggest used car thieves in the city. As I got off the street car, and son of Happy Herman's lot, a slash of canary yellow paint caught my eye. I strolled down between the rows of cars and fondant. Yes, sir, heap's the name. Happy Herman Heap. Every car on this lot is in perfect mechanical condition. Take your choice. Kind of hard to choose, Herman. There's so many here. Yes, sir. It takes a heap of heaps to make a heap of heaps. Yeah. That yellow job with the blue fenders, then? Oh, yes, sir. But the motor in that car, it doesn't need some work. Now, over here. Does it run? Oh, yes, it'll run. But over here. This is more of what I want. Let me try. Sounds all right to me. Oh, idling, yes. But it needs some work in the transmission of the differential. Mind if I drive it around the block? Well, the mechanics work just about to work on it. Besides this, I'm afraid this car is more than you care to invest. Well, let me try it out anyway. Here, I'll leave it a pocket. I raced in my pocket for Meach's charm bracelet. He took one look at it, and his expression changed. Well, why didn't you say so? No, the pocket is necessary. You can charge yours. Drive it and charge your life. Thank you, Herman Heap. I took him in his word. I put the magic bracelet in my pocket, drove back to O'Farrell Street, parked in front of the San Rafael Hotel, slipped the doorman a buck to wash it for me, and went on into the lobby. The desk clerk said that Senorita Estrada had checked out 30 minutes before, leaving no address. I found the house-tick in the bar, and asked him for a run-down. Yeah, I remember very, Sam. Very nice day. Any callers, Simon? Yeah, two guys went out, and they came even back soon. Who were they? You won't believe it, Sam. One of them was Tom Tom Carey. What's he doing in San Francisco? He's one of the murderers. I don't know, but there must be plenty in it if he's brought him back across the border. He's staying here? Yeah, room 613. Do me a favor, will you, Simon? Anything at all, Sam. There's a car parked outside in the loading zone here, stored in a hotel garage for me. When you're upstairs, as far out of sight as you can get it. I went upstairs, and rang the buzzer at room 613. The door was opened by a little dark, complexed man with hard eyes and Indian features. There was a mean-looking knife in his hand, but he put it away at a nod from Tom Tom Carey. How'd you find out I was in town? Not from me, chief. I don't know how much he told you, Sam, but if he told you this much, he was 11. It's a million-dollar caper. And you know some of the things I've done for life. What's in it for me? What'd she pay you? Nothing. She left this charm bracelet in the pocket. Now, boss, I cut him now. Give me that bracelet. Uh-uh. Watch it, Tom. Don't crowd me. I got something bigger than this, so you wouldn't be here. All right, Sam. What do you want? I want to hear you talk. I guess you know I've been down Mexico way. I'm listening. I got a little business here in the garage. Running hot cars across the border in the states? We cool them off. Little buddy raked in his serial number. Like plastic surgery. Sounds like a good business. He shouldn't be neglecting it. You've met the Dane. She says you want to kill her. I was out of my trouble. I scared her. I didn't mean anything. I thought I could carry her and sit her around. I let Pa go and make her shoulder a little bit. Oh, just a little bit? Yeah. I figured her wrong. I know that. If I could see her for five minutes, just to talk to her. I know it'd be okay. I can't help you, Tom. Tom, I want to talk to her myself. That's when she hasn't got a penny. Only that car. She figures I'm peddling that, not me more. You already told her? Some car thieves took it. She hired me to price it. Maybe he drove from a strange country. I'd look good to her. Here's a thousand bucks, Tom. A sudden, Tom. Nothing. When you hear again, give her that bracelet back. It was a present from me. And whatever you do, don't find their car. Okay, Tom. Tom, it's a promise. Only one thing I don't understand. You said it was a million-dollar caper. I meant that. She's worth a million bucks to me, Tom. The girl, Tom Tom, or the car? Although I wish you hadn't asked that question, Tom. I really do. Back to the convertible caper. Tonight's adventure with Sam Spade. When Tom Tom Kerry said a million-dollar caper, he meant just that. He never risked a rap to less than a hundred grand and no dame that ever lived was worth more to him than a hot mink coat. If Nietzsche wasn't a million-dollar package, the car was. I didn't know what was in it. Tom Tom, it might be diamonds, dope, smuggled Chinese, or just plain money. So I went back to the hotel garage. I climbed the long-curving ramp to the second floor and found the canary yellow of the ends of the convertible crowded in behind four ranks of cars at the rear of the building instead of the workhouse. Nothing in the luggage trunk, nothing under the seats, under the upholstery and the door panels, nothing anywhere. Then I got tiny stover and the two of us went over the second time. Ah, it's a cold knee to say it's not. I know it's not nothing tiny. What's different about this car? Solid, they're built in most good bodywork. I don't know. Hey, here's something. What? There's a hole punched out of this fender over here about the size of a quarter. Let me see that. Yeah, right here. It curves under, see? Well, yeah, yeah. What's that you got? It's an umbrella. Did you say this dangle on here was what was cut out of that fender? Let me see. It fits. Fits even occur. Yeah. What does it mean, Sam? The dangle on the brakes. What a solid platinum. Hey, Sam, you trying to tell me defenders on this heap are solid platinum. You got a pocket knife, Sam? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Nice. It shines. Sam, is this a hot car? I didn't answer him. I didn't have to. He looked in the gray white gleam in the bracelet charm of a square of paint I had scraped off the fender and answered the question himself. Meach is convertible. It was convertible in more ways than one. It's about the hottest car in San Francisco as of that moment. After I left the garage, I tried to phone Tom Tom, but he wasn't in. I had an uncomfortable feeling he was out looking for me. He was. As I stepped out of the phone booth, there was a rush of air past my left ear. A knife stuck in the wood less than an inch west of him. He came out of the street and found a seam duck around the corner into an alley. I ran after him. I crawled in and stood him up against the wall. Let me go. Let me go. I cut you down. What do you know about that car? Cut. What do you know about that car? Cut. Come on. I'm talking. You get more of this. I don't know nothing. They don't tell me nothing. Where's Meach? I don't know. Meach, you don't know nothing either. Only Tom Tom and. Tom Tom and who else? I don't talk no more. They're cutting you in? I don't need no cut. The boss, he pays me good. 40 pesos. Sometimes more. Work for me and I'll cut you in. I cut you for faces. The boss pays me good. Sure. You do all the dirty work. There's no trouble. You'll take the wrap. What means wrap? They put you in a little room and squirt gas in you. You fall dead. Gas? Tom Tom do this? He does indeed. Venga. Tom. I thank you to see the man. It's an honor. I thank you. I think he will be very happy to see you. This Paco took me through. It was about as high on Russian Hill as you can get. The house was old, based in Brownstone. It had a high iron pencil on it. And the gate was amazing. H-H lovely. When I opened it to go in, I noticed that Paco was no longer with me. Mr. Stade, come in. Come in. The gray-haired gentleman who greeted me was wearing a wing collar, a carnation and a very distinguished hair. I could hardly believe it, but he was definitely beyond the shadow of a doubt. None other than the one and only Happy Herman Heath. Well, Mr. Stade, I see that you're surprised. I'm overwhelmed, Mr. Heath. Lovely. Lovely. That is the correct name. For my first application, I selected my first and second names, the H-H, you know. My full name is Herman Heath Lovelace. About that car, Mr. Stade. Yeah, about that. I must have known that you outwitted me. I was not proud of my little device, the disc on the charm faces, you know. When you showed it to me at the, uh, my business establishment, I naturally thought you authorized the ticks to car. Yeah, naturally. However, I'm not averse to enterprise in the young man, and I'm prepared to pay for my blunder. You said a million. I still couldn't accept, Mr. Lovelace. Oh, why not? I was hired to recover that car for my client. It's not mine to sell. Well, it's certainly not hers. I don't care whose it is. All I know is that my client's life is in danger and it has something to do with that car. Mr. Stade, rather. Yeah. Excuse me one moment. Please. It's all right. Hello, Papa. That's all she said. And she stood there looking at me in that way that made you not care who she was double crossing or why. And she turned to, uh, Lovelace, alias, Herman Heap. How much did you know? At last, everything I fear. He has agreed to a term? Yes. Good. I must have my bracelet back now, Sam. Sure. It's right here in my... I reached in my coat pocket but a charm bracelet should give me the key for it. It wasn't there. It wasn't any of my pockets. I guessed that it was in one of Paco's pockets. Meet you, watch me, fumbling her eyes, blazing with anger. Ooh. You have lost it. We are helpless without them. I thought it was the car you wanted. Please, please, one thing at a time. I can guess that we first gained possession of the car. Yes, Lovelace. You are right. First, the car. This is the car at last. A princess in vulgar raiment but still a princess. No royal coach carrying a king or a coronation ever held such riches. Oh, you talk too much. Oh, I do. Well, take your place at the wheel, Richard. We shall drive out of here into a splendid future. After you, Mr. Spade. Oh, no, Mr. Heap. After you. Ironic, isn't it, that with all my very interest, I've never learned to drive a car. That's a buckle vehicle. You seem kind of shaky, Richard. Are you sure you can handle the car down the ramp? I'm very good driver, Waffle. Stop, put on your brakes. There's a man coming up the ramp. As I leaned over, I saw the bracelet lying beside his hand. I picked it up and walked back to the car. Richard and Herman Heap Lovelace were sitting in stony silence, glaring at each other. Is he dead? Yeah. What, the bracelet on him? I didn't look. Lovelace, go and trace him. Must I? It's merely distasteful to me. Come, Mr. Spade. You fool, we trust this detective. Go on. I'm getting well. Get in, Sam. Get in. We live in here. What's the matter? Is something wrong? Oh, nothing at all. Come back here! This is an outbreak. I didn't expect... Waffle, a cigarette. Sure, sure. Here you are. I, uh... I saw you pick up the bracelet. I meant that you should share it with me. That is why I gave you the bracelet in the first place. I liked you. Couldn't have been because you were safe as long as Tom Tom didn't know where the bracelet was and you had to kill somebody for it. It would be me. Please, Carita, what does it matter now? We are together. We have the car. We have the bracelet. And the kid is dead. That's what worries me. Surely you do not think I meant to kid him? Of course not. You've put just slips. You've stepped in the gas by accident. Yes. Yes, that was you. It was six, sweetheart. Not with me. But with the police? My story won't help you. I don't know enough. Oh? Then I tell you everything. I was with Tom Tom for a year. I hated him 365 days. I tried to run away. Always that Paco came after and brought me back. Then, Senor Lovelace came with the car. Senor Lovelace had much money, but he could not take it from the country. So he bought sold platinum. Some he received from refugees who had sent their fortunes abroad in that form. But there was no safe way to get it across the border. So for a cut, Tom Tom had the platinum made into fenders and welded onto the car. Why was the bracelet so important? It was too dangerous for Lovelace to bargain directly. Tom Tom was to get the money for the platinum and give the little piece of the fender at the token. Lovelace would know who to give the car to when they showed it to him. That's why you let me drive the car off a lot, huh? I don't care, darling. Even if you try to steal it, now we understand each other, no? You are tougher than Tom Tom, I think. Well, now we have everything for ourselves, you and me. What do we care for the others, huh? You make a good pitch, sweetheart. You look beautiful while you're making it. But I know I keep driving. What do you mean? Pull over. I'm driving the seat back to the city. No. I said pull over. I won't let you do it. I don't care what happens. Say it easy. You want to kill us both? Sure, I will kill us both. We die together or we live together. Yes or no? You're nuts. Answer me. The answer is no. Well, no. You will see I mean what I say. We ran a defend in the road. There was a point ahead with a sheer 300 foot drop to the sea. She jerked the car away from the pavement and steered straight at it. I grabbed the wheel and pushed it. The car skidded on gravel and slid sideways toward the cliff. I got the door open and tried to yank her out with me. She held on and kicked me until I rolled free. She didn't look very beautiful when I saw her for the last time. And the plushy convertible was a pilot junk. Very expensive junk, but junk all the same. I understand the federal men have confiscated the platinum and are holding lovelace for questioning. I doubt it'll crack. Nobody can embarrass a used car salesman. Period. End of report. Sam, do you really like this racket we're in? I hate it. So do I. But don't let's ever go in with any other racket. It's a promise, sweetheart. Why? I'll never know. No reason. Good night, Sam. Good night, sweetheart. The adventures of Sam Spade, Dashel Hammett's famous private detective, was written for radio by Bob Tormund and Gil Dowd, with musical direction by Lud Bluskin. Sam Spade is played by Howard Duff. Blurring Tuttle is Effie. Tonight's program was directed by Elliot Lewis.