 And now stay tuned for the mystery program that is unique among all mystery programs because even when you know who's guilty, you always receive a startling surprise at the final curtain. In the Signal Oil program, the Whistler. Signal, the famous Go Father gasoline, invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by the Whistler. For extra driving pleasure, the signal to look for is the yellow and black circle sign that identifies signal service stations from Canada to Mexico. And for Sunday evening listening pleasure, the signal to listen for is this whistle that identifies the Signal Oil program, the Whistler. I am the Whistler and I know many things for 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 the Whistler's strange story, the new Mrs. Devlin. Darkness had fallen over the Monterey Coast as Kenneth Devlin turned the convertible off the highway, swung the car around in a half arc and then backed it into the dense shadow and turned off the motor. As he sat there in the darkness waiting, his eyes never left the rambling two-story house. In the distance he could hear the pounding of the surf and then suddenly close by another sound, the ringing of a telephone. Yes, Kenneth, your plan is working. You lean forward, see a figure move past the lighted kitchen window. Then another light winks on and you step out of the car and run toward the house. You pause at the back door for a moment and then quietly slip inside. All right, Miss Laurel, but you'd better get a pencil and write this down. You have one? Fine. You stop at the foot of the stairs, don't you, Kenneth? Listen to your housekeeper, Frieda, as she talks on the telephone. Then you hurry upstairs to your wife's room. Push the door open slowly. The room is dark and very quiet. There on the bed is your wife, Emily, her back turned. You approach the bedside table, uncork a small, flat bottle. Pour half the contents into the glass of milk on the stand beside her bed. And then as you move away, your hand accidentally brushes against the music box. Quickly you snap down the lid. Hold your breath for fear of waking her. Stand there for a full minute, not daring to move. Then you turn quietly and hurry out of the room and down the stairs. Now you simmer the scallops five minutes in a mixture of wine, salt and cayenne. Am I going too fast for you, Miss Laurel? All right. Then you drain, reserving the liquid. That's right. Cook the onion in the butter until tender. Blend in the flour. Add the liquid drained from the scallops. It's done, isn't it, Ken? No one even knew you were there. You've poisoned your wife, Emily, haven't you? And soon you'll be free to marry the beautiful Laurel. Did everything go all right? Yeah, sure. Come on, let's go. Hey, your phone call was perfect, honey. Had all the time in the world. Ken, are you sure everything went all right? Of course. Why? Frida left the phone for a moment. I couldn't help it. She said there was something on the stove. How long was she gone? Not more than a minute or so. Well, I'm certain she didn't see me. If she had, I think she would have spoiled it. Now, we better separate. All right, darling. I'll drive you up to the highway and you can take a bus home. I'll get in touch with you later. And don't worry, Laurel. I'm sure we're in the clear. You drive around alone for a couple of hours. It's almost 10 o'clock when you return to the house. As you step inside the front door and close it, you remove your overcoat. Mr. Devlin. You turn at the sound of your housekeeper's voice. She's standing at the head of the stairs looking down at you. And you notice a strange look in her eyes. Then slowly she walks down the stairs toward you. Sorry, I'm late Frida. I couldn't help it. I suppose dinner is completely ruined. Mr. Devlin, I've been trying to reach you. Oh, well I... What's the matter, Frida? You're as white as a sheet. Mr. Devlin, I didn't know what to do. It was such a long time before the doctor came. Dr. Ferris? You'd better go upstairs, sir. Upstairs? Frida, what's happened? It's your wife, Mr. Devlin. She's dead. Dead? No. What was wrong? What did Dr. Ferris say? He wasn't greatly surprised. Oh, her heart, you know. She'd been sick for such a long time, poor dear. Yes. Poor Emily. I suppose it was all for the best, Mr. Devlin. Oh, you understand what I mean. Oh yes, of course. Yes, you're quite right, Frida. I'm sure it was all for the best. Tonight's $20 signal gasoline book goes to Carl A. Truitt of San Francisco for this limerick. Said the man in the moon with a sigh, if only some signal they'd try, they'd go farther by miles through these misty defiles and catch that ghost herd in the sky. Signal, signal, signal gasoline. Your car would go far, would go farther gasoline. Well, even though catching that ghost herd in the sky isn't one of your ambitions, I'm sure you'll find plenty of use for the good mileage that has made Signal famous as the go farther gasoline. And at the same time, you'll enjoy the other benefits that naturally go hand in hand with mileage. I'm talking about Signal's fast cold weather starting, Signal's proud pickup, Signal's smooth effortless power. So whether you're looking for economy or just real driving pleasure, remember you'll find both in Signal, the famous go farther gasoline. It's over, isn't it, Kenneth? Your wife, Emily, is dead. And you're sure no one suspects you poisoned her, not even Frida, your housekeeper. Dr. Ferris stated it was her weak heart. The cremation service for Emily makes it certain now that no one will ever find out how she died and you're in the clear. Weeks and then months pass. And finally in the fall you marry Laurel. Bring her back to the house overlooking Monterey Bay. Now life is amusing, pleasantly exciting, isn't it, Kenneth? Yes. Laurel, Emily's wealth, the prizes you gamble for are yours at last. And you're immensely pleased with the way things have turned out. That is, for a while you are. And then gradually you begin to notice a change in Laurel and it bothers you. Something on her mind, isn't there, Kenneth? One night as you return from the office. Good evening, Mr. Devlin. Hello, Frida. Here, take these things, will you? You've been shopping again, sir. Indeed I have. Indeed I have. I'll put these things in the living room, sir. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Oh, dinner. Well, didn't Mr. Devlin tell you we were going out tonight? She changed her mind, sir. Changed her mind, but... Where is she? In the library. All right. Laurel? Oh, hello, Ken. Have a drink. Oh, thanks, no. What about the party tonight, honey? I thought you'd be all ready to go. I'm not going, Ken. You're not? But we can't. Well, Pete and Georgia are my best friends. It's their wives. Whisper, whisper, whisper. Always whispering in corners. Oh, now, look, honey, what would they be whispering about? Can't you guess? Can't you guess, Ken? That was the beginning, wasn't it, Ken? The first indication of trouble ahead. She's afraid people will find out you poisoned your first wife, Emily. You find yourself becoming jittery, irritable. And there are unpleasant scenes that end only in driving you further apart. Then another evening in the library as you sit reading the newspaper. Ken? Yes? Let's move away from here. Move? What on earth for? I just want to get away, that's all. This house... Why, what's wrong with the house? I thought you'd like... It's just that... Well, being alone here all day... Alone? Frida's here, isn't she? Yes, Frida's here. What in the world is... Frida, the house, everything in it reminds me... of Emily. Oh, now, Laurel... I can't help it, people are talking about as they suspect us. Nonsense, it's just your imagination is working overtime. They don't know a thing and they never will. As long as you keep your head... Ken! You've got to take hold of yourself, Laurel. There's nothing to worry about. Now forget about it. Please. All right. But about Frida... What about her? She's got to go. I just don't want her in this house. She watches everything I do, listens to my phone conversations. You're ridiculous. It's not ridiculous. He suspects us, Ken. Please, you've got to dismiss her. No, Laurel. Frida's staying. And that's final. I see. You feel sorry for her, don't you? Sorry? She's in love with you, of course. You know that. In love with me? Oh, don't be silly. I noticed a long time ago... the way she looks at you. Even before Emily died, she was in love with you. The way she follows you around, always doing things for you. Oh, it's all very clear, Ken. Tell me, are you in love with her? You're a fool, Laurel. A suspicious, frightened little fool. I'm going to bed. Good night. Good morning, Ken. Oh, George, how are you? Fine, fine, fine. Yeah, great morning, isn't it? Yeah. Found your way to the office? Yeah, I thought I'd walk it for a change. Say, how come we don't see you folks anymore? Are you getting anti-social or something? Oh, no. Well, Laurel's not been feeling too well lately, and then I've been pretty busy. Sure, sure, sure. Just kidding. Laurel going on a trip? Yeah, I saw her about ten minutes ago, heading to the bus station. Laurel? Yeah, carrying a suitcase. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. She's going to visit a girlfriend of hers. I thought she was going to drive the car up. I guess she changed her mind. Yeah, well, maybe we can get together some night, huh? I'll pour her with the boys, I'll phone Pete. Yeah, sure, we'll do that. Excuse me, George, excuse me. I'll have to go back to the house. I forgot something. Yeah, okay, okay, see you. Going someplace, Laurel? Yeah. Better give me that suitcase. Can I left a note for you? I thought I'd just spend a few days in San Francisco shopping. Get the things off my mind, you know? A suitcase, Laurel. All right. Here. You were running away, weren't you? No, no I wasn't, Ken. Come on, we're going back home. Please, Ken. Frightened people do stupid things, make mistakes. And I can't have that, Laurel. Just a few days, Ken. Has come back? No, I don't trust you. I don't trust you anymore. Marriage to Laurel was a mistake, wasn't it, Kenneth? You realize that now? She's no longer the clever, even-tempered woman you dared so much for. She's losing her nerve, a coward, a weakling. And she can be dangerous. Frida has already told you that Laurel attempted suicide on two different occasions. And you decide you'll have to watch her closely from now on. In the days that follow, you spend more and more time working at home. But late one afternoon, some unexpected business takes you down to your office in the village. And then it happens. Yes? Your house calling, sir. Oh, very well. Hello? What's wrong, Frida? See that she does, I'm Frida. I will, doctor. As well, I should look in again this evening. Goodbye. Oh, Ken. How? How is she, doctor? Oh, nothing to worry about, she'll be all right. Just nervous, upset stomach, but I'd watch her for a while. Frida told me she's attempted suicide once or twice. Yes, I know. She told me too. I'll watch her, doctor. Very closely. This gives you an idea, doesn't it, Ken? Suddenly you realize that if Laurel succeeded in an attempted suicide, your worries would all be over. It's something to think about, isn't it? Laurel has become a serious threat. She might do anything, even go to the sheriff. The thought stays with you for the next few days, and then one evening it's Frida who helps you decide. I've been thinking, Mr. Devlin, I'd like to run up to Santa Cruz tomorrow. My sister's been asking me to visit with her. Well, why not, Frida? Yeah, just go ahead. Well, if you were going to be busy at the office tomorrow, I wouldn't want to leave Mrs. Devlin alone. You worry too much, Frida. I'll keep an eye on her. It's an opportunity, isn't it? And you don't hesitate to take advantage of it. Laurel will be alone in the house. It's got to be done, you tell yourself. And it might just as well happen tomorrow. Later that night in the attic room you open an old trunk. Take out a small flat bottle, the same poison you used for your first wife, Emily. As you stand there staring at it... Oh, Mr. Devlin, I didn't know you were here. What is it, Frida? I just came up to get some things. I'd stored away some presents for my nephew, but I won't disturb you if you're... It's quite all right. I was just leaving. Oh, Mr. Devlin? Yes? About breakfast in the morning I'd plan to catch the eight o'clock bus. Don't worry about us. I'll manage. You run along. The following morning as you see Frida leave the house, you hurry down to the kitchen, find the small cream pitcher in the refrigerator, you pour the rest of the poison into the cream, replace the pitcher on the refrigerator shelf, and an hour later you're walking into your office. Oh, good morning, Mr. Devlin. I wasn't sure you'd be coming in today. Good morning, Miss Grandma. Mr. Simmons called a few minutes ago. Wanted to remind you about looking at that Faraday land. Oh, yes, I forgot to call him. I'll do it right away. After you've fallen, Mr. Simmons, put in several other calls. You make a pretence of being quite busy, but your eyes keep wandering to the clock. 9.30. Laurel's waking up now. 10 o'clock. Soon she'll leave her room. Move down to the kitchen. Breakfast. The same breakfast she always eats. Coffee and cereal. With cream. 11 o'clock. And now you reach for the telephone. Will you call my home, please? Yes, sir. You've waited an hour and a half, haven't you, Ken? 90 long minutes. More than enough time for Laurel to dress and eat breakfast. The poison should take effect immediately. You get up from your desk, pace the office. It had to be done. There was no other way, was there, Ken? Totally simply. First, Emily. Because you wanted her money. Now, Laurel, because she threatened your security. And everything is once again in your favor. Frida has told the doctor that Laurel had tried suicide before. This time, she will succeed, won't she, Ken? While you were absent from the house. Yes? I'm sorry, Mr. Devlin. I called your home, but there's no answer. No answer? Oh, thank you. It's done, isn't it, Ken? Your certain Laurel is dead. You put away the papers you've been toying with. Say a few words to your secretary and hurry down the street to your car. As you slide in behind the wheel and reach for the ignition switch, your hand freezes in midair. The woman crossing the street. There's no mistaking the plaid sport coat is there, Ken. It's Laurel. She's not dead. You watch your hurry along the other side of the street. Turn into the sheriff's office. Yes, the sheriff's office, Ken. Hiya, Ken. Oh, George. Jumpy, ain't ya? Hey, what's the matter? Ken, you look like you've seen a ghost. Excuse me, I'm in a hurry. Hey, what ghost? Ken, what's the matter? Laurel is going to tell the sheriff everything, isn't she, Ken? You're certain of that. Then your only thought now is to get away. Back at the house, you hurry to the wall safe. Take out all the cash and put it in your pocket. You're smart to keep a few thousand at home, weren't you, Ken? Now there's still a chance for you, isn't there? But you'll have to move fast. And then as you open the front door... I didn't go to my sister's after all. Why, why not? I had no intention of going, really. What? Is she dead, Laurel, I mean? What are you talking about? You mean you didn't take advantage of my absence, Mr. Devlin? Dear me, I was certain you'd see to it that Laurel wouldn't fail in her next suicide attempt. Read it. Don't look so surprised, I've been expecting it. The way things were between you. Worrying about Emily and how she died. You know about that too. Of course. Why don't you go to the sheriff? Tell him. Tell him what? Emily died from her illness. Her heart just stopped, that's all. Nothing else. What? I saw you that night, Mr. Devlin, when I was talking on the telephone. I followed you upstairs and saw you drop the poison in the milk. Too bad you didn't know she was already dead. Already dead? Yes, she never got to touch the glass of milk. Why, Fried? Why didn't you tell me this before? I would have in time, I suppose. You see, when Emily died, I thought perhaps you'd notice me that there'd be a new Mrs. Devlin. Yes, but you married Laurel. That took me by surprise, and I only wanted to hurt you, you and Laurel, to make you suffer. And she has suffered. Yes, she has. She must have. She tried suicide. Oh no, no, she never tried to kill herself. But the doctor said, well, you told me too. I planned it that way because I thought it would help you if you were established that she had suicidal tendencies. In case you decided you'd be better off without her. Oh, you don't know what you've done, Frieda. You've ruined things. Laurel's at the sheriff's office right now telling him I poisoned Emily, and I'm sure of it. Well, that's all right. I can tell him differently. Will you? On one condition. What's that? I love this house. I want it to be mine, ours, Kenneth. I want to be the next Mrs. Devlin. Laurel. If she doesn't love you and you don't love her, she'll make your life miserable. You could send her away, divorce her. And, and if I do? I'll tell the sheriff the truth, and you'll be free. Well, if the sheriff's coming, you better make up your mind, Kenneth, soon. When you need a new automobile battery, you usually need it quick. You haven't time to shop around and compare prices and features. For that reason, it may pay you both in savings and satisfaction to know about the new signal deluxe battery that you can get on easy credit terms at any signal service station. You actually get up to 35% more power from signals new deluxe batteries because their improved design micro porous all rubber separators hold twice as much acid solution between the plates. And when it comes to trouble-free service, these new signal deluxe batteries last so long that signal dealers guarantee them a full 30 months on a service basis. That makes the cost per month amazingly low. And the generous trade in allowance signal dealers are now giving for old batteries makes the cost even lower. So why wait until your old battery lets you down completely? Stop at a signal station now. Find out how little it will cost you to enjoy quicker starting and freedom from battery worries with an extra powerful extra long life signal deluxe battery. So you have a decision to make, Ken. You can reject Frida's demand and face a murder charge. Or you can accept and be cleared of a crime you planned but really didn't commit. You move out to the patio alone to think. But your mind is already made up, isn't it? Yes. Frida's testimony will ensure your freedom. Make certain you'll never again have to worry about Emily's death. And you'll return the favor by making Frida the next Mrs. Devlin. The minutes pass and you wait for the sheriff to arrive. Finally his car pulls into the driveway and he steps out. Leaving Laurel in the car with the deputy, he starts up the path toward the house. As he does, you hurry back inside and meet him at the front door. Mr. Devlin. Yes? Your wife just told us a very interesting story. She's confessed that the two of you poisoned the first Mrs. Devlin. And now, Sheriff, she's wrong. We didn't kill her. Emily died of a heart attack. She never drank the poison. That's so? Yes, and I can prove it. Frida, my housekeeper, she'll tell you. Come on, Sheriff. All right. Frida! Frida? Oh, this way, Sheriff. She's probably in here. Frida, are you... Frida is slumped over the kitchen table. Close at hand is a coffee cup. And a pitcher of cream. Empty. The poison cream you meant for Laurel. Frida. Frida! Just a minute, Devlin. Sheriff, I... She's dead. But she could have told you the truth. I didn't poison Emily. I didn't. I guess that's something we'll never know for sure. But it won't be hard to find out how your housekeeper died. Well, Devlin. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler, each Sunday night at the same time. Remember, if you would like the fun of having your friends hear a limerick of yours on the Whistler, the address to which to send it is the Signal Oil Company, Los Angeles 55, California. All limericks become the property of the Signal Oil Company. Those selected for use on the Whistler will be chosen by our advertising representatives on the basis of humor, suitability, and originality. So, of course, they must be your own composition. Featured in tonight's story were Willard Waterman, Sarah Selby, and Georgia Ellis. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen with story by Louis Estee, 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 the same time next Sunday, another strange tale by the Whistler. Don't forget, when you give to the community chest, you're helping not just one organization, but many worthy causes that directly benefit four out of every ten families. Think of that when you're deciding how much...