 And now, stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. The Signal Oil Program, The Whistler. Signal, the famous Go Farther Gasoline. Invite you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by 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 for the Signal Oil Company, The Whistler's strange story. The Clock on the Tower. After a dismal breakfast, Joe Brill stood silently smoking a cigarette, staring through the narrow window of his prison cell at the big electric clock on the tower of the mercantile building a few blocks away. Joe had once believed that the pleasenter the circumstances, the more rapid the passage of time, but now he knew otherwise. The eight weeks since he'd been tried, convicted and sentenced to death for the murder of his wife Martha, had passed with incredible speed. And as he watched the hands of the big tower clock, he could hear its ticking in his mind's ear, as clearly as though it were inches away. Twenty hours of life. That's all that's left, Joe. Just twenty short hours. For unless a miracle happens, you'll enter the gas chamber at four o'clock tomorrow morning. As you continue to stare in hypnotic fascination at the clock, the sound of footsteps in the prison corridor causes you to turn quickly around. Your attorney here to see you, Joe. Oh, hello Eddie. Good morning, Joe. Well, while I'm here, Joe, I wonder if you've decided what you want for dinner tonight. No, and I haven't thought about it. I'll let you know. Okay, and remember, the sky's the limit tonight. Yeah, yeah, I'll remember. I won't be long, Gordon. Take as long as you want, Mr. Morris. Our boy gets anything he wants today. All right, I'll call you in about forty-five minutes, okay? That'll be five. Well, anything new, Eddie? Yep. Good? I think so. First of all, I just spoke with the governor on the telephone. You've got to stay up execution. No, no, no, wait. Not quite that good, Joe. But he did promise to stand by his phone until midnight, in case I come up with anything new today. And, uh, it looks like I will. What? Take a look at this wire. Let's see. Acapulco, Mexico. A found restaurant owner insists you're missing suspect Fred Barnes is in Acapulco. Dines there frequently. Hope to verify by noon today, Franklin. Right, and Franklin's the best investigator in the business. Yeah, but his wire about somebody seeing Barnes and Acapulco won't do us any good. Barnes been reported seen in a lot of places. Doesn't mean a thing. Oh, it does this time, fella. Even if Franklin doesn't come up with Barnes, the governor says that this Acapulco restaurant man is a respectable citizen with an honest reputation. He'll grant a stay of execution. You mean, even if they don't find Barnes? Right. And if the governor grants you a stay, I'll guarantee I'll get you a new trial. Even if the stays only for a few weeks. A new trial's all we need, Joe. The next time we'll win. Now we're getting somewhere ready. Sure we are. I told you to keep your chin up. But you know, it just doesn't seem to make sense to me. Barnes not having shown up. He can read. The story's been in every paper in the United States. Wasn't in the paper until the day after Martha was killed. By that time, Barnes could have been somewhere in the mountains of Mexico. In fact, he probably was. Well, you're positive he can clear you if we locate him. Well, sure I'm positive. Barnes knows I'd gone back to work when Martha was killed. He was in front of the house when I left. He saw her throw me a kiss. No, okay, okay. I just wanted to be sure. You know, Joe, I've... I've always had sort of a feeling that Barnes never left town. I think he's still here. You're way off, Eddie. Everybody, including his boss, knew he was leaving for Mexico that day. Well, I guess you're right. Oh, here, I brought you the morning papers. Thanks. I guess I'm front page again, huh? Well, I haven't had time to look. And don't you spend too much time looking either, Joe. I brought along the transcript of your trial, too. The trial transcript? Why? I want you to study every line of it between now and this evening. I'll be back around six. Read every word of that thing. Maybe you can find something in it that'll help. Something else I can tell the governor when I phone him this evening. Nothing in that transcript I don't know already. It was my trial. I was there. I remember every word of it. All right, but go over it anyway. Especially the testimony of that Jeffers girl. She hadn't lied. You wouldn't be in here now. She did lie, didn't she, Joe? Well, of course she did. I broke off completely with her two weeks before I married Martha. Where I made my mistake was in being nice to her afterwards. Driving her home from little theater rehearsals, things like that. Yes, you sure did. I knew she'd gotten, never gotten over my falling from Martha, but I didn't think she hated me enough to deliberately lie. To send me to the gas chamber. You know I was in love with my wife. Don't you, Eddie? Yeah, yeah, I guess I do. All right, now go over that testimony carefully. I've got a hunch this is going to be the biggest day in our lives. I'm positive we'll find that that restaurant man in Mexico is a high-grade citizen, and that the governor will grant us a stay of execution. Now, if you happen to dig up anything from the transcript that I can add to that, well, it'll mean a new trial. And many more tomorrow's, Joe. Can you imagine two friends going around together for months or even years, yet never getting to fully know each other? Well, I'll bet that's the case with a lot of you listening to me right now. And the very good friend I'm talking about is your car. That's right, the chances are you don't fully know the performance your car is capable of. That is, unless you've treated your car to at least one tank full of Signal Ethel, the premium quality of Signal's famous go farther gasoline. You see, Signal Ethel is scientifically engineered to bring out the best in any car. The quickest starting, the peppiest pickup, the smoothest, ping-free power that ever whisked you down a highway or up a hill are all yours to enjoy with Signal Ethel. Yes, all that it takes to bring out this kind of performance, the best your car is capable of, is to drive up to the Signal Ethel pump and say, fill her up, cry at once, won't you? Then see if you don't discover all sorts of new reasons to be proud when the three of you go out together. You, your car, and Signal Ethel. Well, Joe, you never thought you'd be in a spot like this, did you? In a prison cell, less than 20 hours away from execution in the gas chamber. The visit from your attorney, Eddie Morris, a few moments ago, had raised your hopes for a last-minute stay of execution. But now that he's gone, your spirit's ebbed. Force of habit draws your gaze to your cell window and the tower clock in the distance. Again, you seem to hear it relentlessly ticking away the hours remaining before your unsought rendezvous with death. abruptly you turn around, open the newspaper Eddie had left you. A headline column on page one reviews your whole story. Convicted wife slayer due to enter gas chamber. Tomorrow morning at four o'clock, Joe Brill, convicted two months ago for the slaying of his wife, will enter the gas chamber unless new evidence is unearthed or the police locate Fred Barnes. The missing witness the doomed man insists could prove his innocence. Yes, Joe, you're in a tough spot. You've read about it happening to other men, but you never dreamed it would happen to you. Your mind races back to that unhappy day when it all began. The day the police picked you up at your office and drove you swiftly to police headquarters for questioning. Why did you come home at 11 o'clock this morning, Brill? Because I forgot some papers. You never went home at that time of day on a business day before. I never had any reason to. It's quite a coincidence. The only business day in a year when you return home from the office, your wife is murdered. But I didn't do it. Then the minute you got into the house, you had a quarrel with her, didn't you? No. It was over your girlfriend, wasn't it? I didn't have any girlfriend. That's not what Corinne Jeffers says. Corinne Jeffers? You talked with her about me? Sure. Before we picked you up. Well, then she told you the truth that everything was over between us before I ever got married. She didn't say your little affair was over. She said there was anything else but over. She couldn't have said that. She did say it. I don't care what she said, I didn't do it. I can prove my wife was alive when I left the house to return to the office. How? By Fred Barnes. He lived next door. You better call him. Why? I... I can't... He left town today from Mexico. We're about to go to Mexico. We'll wire him for you. I don't know. He said he was just going to hibernate somewhere in the mountains down there. Another strange coincidence. The only guy that could have testified for you is somewhere in Mexico. Nobody knows where. But Barnes did go to Mexico. Sure he went to Mexico. His landlady told us that. She also told us he left three hours before your wife was killed. The memory of that first day's questioning in police headquarters still rankles, doesn't it, Joe? Even before they saw you, it was obvious the police were convinced you were the killer and would spend far greater effort in proving it than searching for another suspect. You toss the newspaper aside. The time is short. You realize you must do something. You turn to the transcript of the trial. In the vague hope, you'll find something helpful there. You skip lightly over the original indictment proceedings, scan the testimony of the opening witnesses against you. In the brilliant hands of the district attorney, even the simplest of truths was turned against you. Your every move, however innocent, seemed to stem from a sinister motive. Even the young bride, Mrs. Nancy Walters, your next door neighbor, was like putty in the hands of the clever prosecutor. You are Mrs. Walters? Yes, sir. You discovered the body of the defendant's late wife the day she was killed, didn't you? Yes, sir. What were the circumstances? Well, you see, I live next door, and I'd just gotten home from my mother's. I went over to borrow some coffee for Mrs. Brill. The side door was open, and I walked in and found her on the floor, in the front room, dead. Tell me, Mrs. Walters, has the defendant Joseph Brill aware that you are going to be absent from home that morning? Yes, sir. At least I think so. Your Honor, I object. Objection sustained. Just answer the question, please. Mrs. Brill knew. I told her. You used to visit with Mrs. Brill? She used to visit us quite often. Three or four evenings a week. Mr. Brill was out so much. Your Honor, I object to that statement. It's irrelevant. If the court please, the witness's statement is quite relevant. The state contends this defendant killed his wife because of his love for another woman. The testimony of this witness proves he spent many of his evenings away from home. Later on, we will prove where he spent them. Objection overruled. Counsel may continue. No further questions. That's all, Mrs. Walters. That's the way the whole trial went, didn't it, Joe? Everything your neighbors said seemed to point directly to your guilt. Now, Mrs. Briggs, you've testified you were also a next-door neighbor of the defendant. And you further testified that the defendant was aware you were going to be absent from your home on the morning his wife was killed. You've also heard Mrs. Walters testify that she was absent from her home that morning. What have you said? Then it would have been possible for the defendant to have sneaked home, killed his wife and returned to work without being seen, wouldn't it? Your Honor! Your Honor, I object. Objection sustained. The district attorney is well aware that his question was improper. I must warn counsel that... I apologize. I apologize, Your Honor. I withdraw the question. Rosie! Yes, Your Honor. Now, Mrs. Briggs, for several months prior to the murder, you had a boarder, a young man named Fred Barnes, did you not? Yes, sir. He left your home to go to Mexico the morning of the murder. Is that right? That's correct, sir. Now, Mrs. Briggs, a little while ago, you heard a police officer testify that the defendant swore to the police that Mr. Barnes was standing in front of your home at a few minutes after 11 when the morning Mrs. Briggs was killed. Yes, sir, I did. And you know that the defendant further claims that Mr. Barnes saw that the defendant's wife was alive at the time? Yes, sir. Do you know what time Mr. Barnes left for Mexico the morning Mrs. Briggs was murdered? Quite do, sir. It was about a quarter to eight when the taxi arrived to take him to the bus station. And you actually saw Mr. Barnes drive off at a quarter of eight. The same morning Mrs. Briggs was murdered at a little after 11. Yes, sir. He waved goodbye to me. Then it would have been impossible for Mr. Barnes to have seen Mrs. Briggs alive or otherwise at 11, wouldn't it? Yes, sir. Your Honor, your Honor, please, I object on the grounds that the question calls for a conclusion by the witness. All she knows is that Mr. Barnes said he was going to Mexico and entered a taxi. Have you actually sustained? No further questions. You are Mr. George Adams, President of Adams Incorporated. I am. You were formerly the employer of Fred Barnes? Yes, sir. Mr. Barnes gave you any reason for leaving your employer? He said he wanted to spend a year in Mexico. Did he leave a forwarding address? No, on the contrary. He said he wanted to go somewhere where no one could find him. When was the last time you saw Mr. Barnes? On Thursday morning, September 14th, about a quarter of 10. Where? At our offices. Barnes stopped by in his way south of San Diego. He said he couldn't resist stopping in for a minute even though he had to get off the bus. San Diego bus passes right in front of your office, doesn't it, Mr. Adams? Yes, sir. You say that Mr. Barnes did stop at 15 minutes before 10 o'clock on the morning of Thursday, September 14th, the morning Mrs. Brill, wife of the defendant, was murdered. Yes, sir. Then Mr. Barnes couldn't possibly have seen Mrs. Brill at 11 o'clock when the defendant claimed... Objection! Your Honor, Mr. Barnes had ample time after he left Mr. Adams' office at 10 o'clock or thereabouts to return to the neighborhood of my client's residence by 11 or a few minutes after. The time the state has established is the time of the murder. Objection sustained. No further questions. Now, Miss Jeffers, I know this is a painful subject, but were you and the defendant Joe Brill in love? I was in love with him. Wasn't he in love with you? Well, he said he was. How long had this romantic feeling existed between you? Oh, half an hour since we were in high school. You broke off with him when he married, of course. Oh, yes, sir. How did it happen to resume your association with the defendant after his marriage? We were both members of a neighborhood little theater group. He used to drive me home after rehearsals. Sometimes we'd drop in at some little place for a sandwich or something, and, well, you know how those things are. Yes, I see. The defendant was seeing you regularly up to a week or so before he... before his wife was found murdered. Yes. When was the last time you saw the defendant? About a week before he... before his wife was killed. Can you recall the date? Oh, yes, sir, I can. It was Wednesday, September 6th. What did you do that evening? We just drove around, stopped at the beach for a while, dropped into a cute little Hawaiian spot. He drove me home early, around 11.30. Did the defendant tell you that evening that everything was over between you? Hardly. What did he tell you? Just that... Go on, go on, Miss Jeffers. He said he thought he'd soon be free. Marry you? That's what he said. Thank you, Miss Jeffers. That's all. And in closing, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the state contends that the defendant, Joseph Brill, has been proved guilty of the murder of his wife, Martha, beyond the shadow of a doubt because of his love for Corinne Jeffers. We contend further that the defendant deliberately chose the time for the murder because he knew his next-door neighbors were absent. And because he further knew that Fred Barnes, the man he claims, could establish his innocence, was leaving that same day for parts unknown. Yes, Joe. The district attorney made a brilliant summation, but it was Corinne Jeffers' testimony that was the telling blow, wasn't it? After that, even your own testimony sounded unconvincing. You knew when she left the stand the jury had decided against you. Too late you realized the truth of the age-old proverb that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. For such was Corinne Jeffers' jealous hatred of you that she deliberately lied, committed perjury, to help send you to the gas chamber. Suddenly you see it. The answer to your hope for a reprieve, a new trial. You can prove Corinne Jeffers lied on the stand. You rush to your cell door. Guard! Wilson! Wilson! What's on your mind, Joe? Get my attorney Eddie Morris on the phone. Tell him to hurry over here. Tell him I found what he's looking for. You bet I will, Joe. You sure? Sure, I'm sure. Tell him to hurry! It's all right here in the transcript, Eddie. The only reason I didn't get it to the trial was because I was so knocked out by what Corinne said I wasn't paying any attention to dates. All right, all right. Never mind the history. Show me what you found. Here. Right there, Eddie. You see? She swore I was out with her the night of September the 6th, drove her around, stopped at the beach. Yes, yes, I know all that. How can you prove she lied? Our little theater group had our dress rehearsal on September the 5th. Corinne had the lead. Her costumes didn't fit. She phoned her dressmaker. She'd be over the next night. That was September the 6th. That's the night she testified she was with me. She couldn't have been with me. Are you sure she went there? She must have. The next night, the night of the show, her costumes fitted perfectly. You know the name of that dressmaker? Well, I think so. Yeah, wait a minute. Her name was, uh... Bronson. Bronson. I remember Corinne called her Mrs. Bronson. You know where she lives? Somewhere near Silver Lake. That's all I know. Okay, I'll check on her, Joe. But you know our best bet with the governor is that we find out that that Mexican restaurant owner is okay. Or better yet, that Franklin comes up with Barnes himself. Forget about Barnes, Eddie. Nobody knows where he is. You can find Corinne, Jeffery. She's right here in town. Naturally, naturally. I'll try to find her. But time's getting short. She might be out. So might that dressmaker. But look, if Franklin stands a chance of finding Barnes... That would have been fine before we had proof Corinne's testimony was perjured. Look, Eddie, it's my life. Concentrate on this, will you? It's a lot better than trying to find Barnes. Oh, sure, Joe. Sure. That's the way you feel about it. Just the same. Get going on it, will you, Eddie? And call in if you find the dressmaker and she backs me up. Will you please? Look, you bet I will, Joe. After Eddie leaves, you pace yourself. Try to interest yourself in the newspapers. Finally, light a cigarette, sink down in your cot, and stare through the windows at the big clock. Finally, a few minutes after two, the guard brings you the news you've been waiting for. Well, kid, so far the news is good. Your attorney said to tell you he found the dressmaker OK and that everything was going great. He's on his way out to talk to Miss Jeffers right now. The next few hours seem like years as you wait for further word from your attorney. Finally, the lights in the cell block go on. And again, you stare out the window at the big clock. It's face now brilliant with electrical illumination. Twenty minutes of six. Time is getting more precious with each passing minute, isn't it, Joe? You should have heard from Eddie by now. You begin to wonder if anything could have gone wrong. Again, you pace the floor. Smoke one cigarette after another. Then at last, you hear the guard. Joe, cut news for you. And it's pretty good. You sure? Positive. Eddie Morris just fooled. Said to tell you that Corrine Jeffers had admitted her testimony was all one big lie. When? I guess he's trying to get hold of the governor. He sure has worked hard for you. I'll bet he's as happy as you are. I wonder what's keeping him. He'll be here soon enough. Don't worry about that. Yeah, sure, sure he will. That's not all the good news I got for you. Eddie said to tell you he'd located Fred Barnes, too. I'm sure glad you hit the jackpot, kid. I always figured you got a bomb wrap. Remember that old story? For want of a horseshoe nail, a battle was lost? Well, for want of something as small as a windshield wiper blade, a car could be wrecked or a life lost. That's why signal dealers not only carry a complete line of accessories for your driving safety and convenience, but each accessory at a signal station is a recognized brand with a reputation for quality and dependability. For instance, the windshield wipers at signal stations are rain master brand with the patented clear flex blade and signal dealers will install one while you wait. The spark plugs handled by signal stations are nationally advertised champion brand. Their tires are Lee's by Lee of Konchahakan, famous almost half a century for the finest of first line tires. And you'll find that this same standard of unsurpassed quality and value applies to every item which signal dealers sell and are proud to stand back up. So if for Christmas you're planning on rewarding your faithful chariot with some practical little present to help it run better, look better, or last longer, remember there's no better place to get it than from a signal service station. The guard's message left you numb, didn't it, Joe? After all the weeks of waiting, you suddenly learned that Corinne Jeffers, the girl you'd broken off with after you became engaged to your late wife, has admitted that her testimony against you, testimony that had been the deciding factor in swaying the jury's verdict against you, was false. Just a matter of hours before your scheduled execution in the gas chamber, you wonder if Eddie has phoned the governor. Whether your stay of execution, the first step toward the new trial, has already been granted. Once again, your eyes wander to the big tower clock. Five minutes pass. Ten, twenty, before Eddie finally arrives. You're surprised, shocked at the seriousness of his manner. Hello, Joe. I thought you'd never get here, Eddie. The guard said Corinne Jeffers admitted she lied. She did. Would you call the governor? Not yet. But it's after six, Eddie. We've still plenty of time. I wanted to see you before I phoned the governor, Joe. The guard said you'd located Barnes, too. I did. Where was he? I'm coming to that. You know, it's funny the way things work out sometimes, Joe. That little Jeffers girl was hard to break. When I got to her house, she wouldn't talk. Then, when I got a little tough, she said she wanted to drink of water and went out to the kitchen. A minute or so later, I happened to look out the window. She was leaving in her car. He didn't let her get away. No. No, I jumped in my car and followed her. I finally caught up with her and crowded her over to the side of the road. She got out of her car and ran into a grove of trees. I found her on the other side of those trees, hiding in an abandoned quarry. That quarry was right behind your house, Joe. That's where I found Fred Barnes. He was all covered up with an old raincoat and dirt, but not quite enough dirt. Nothing to say, Joe. Well, I guess it wouldn't do us any good to phoned the governor now, would it? I guess not, Eddie. You knew where Barnes was all along, didn't you, Joe? Yeah. Joe, why did you do it? Did Barnes happen to come back and see you kill your wife? It's almost time to order that last big dinner, Joe. Would you like to tell me about it first? Might as well, Eddie. When I returned home from the office unexpectedly that last morning, Barnes was there, too. Then he did come back? Yes, yes, he did. When I opened the front door, I saw him in the living room with Martha. She was in his arms. They were planning to go to Mexico together. Let that whistle be your signal for the signal oil program, the Whistler, each Sunday night at this same time. Signal Oil Company has asked me to remind you that there's an easy way we can all help to make this holiday season happier for ourselves and others. Drive at sensible speeds, be courteous, and obey traffic regulations. It may save a life, possibly your own. Featured in tonight's story were Bill Foreman, David Ellis, Bill Boucher and John Daner. The Whistler was produced and directed by George W. Allen, with story by Ed Bloodworth, 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 for our Miss Brooke starring Eve Arden, which follows immediately over most of these stations. It's the CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.