 Personal notice. Danger's my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Greetings, Mr. Lover. Time for another Let George Do It adventure. This one is called Triple Indemnity, and I'd better explain that one right now. You all know what double indemnity is. It's when the beneficiary is paid off double when the insured suffers an accidental demise. Well, our hero thought he'd go them one better with an even bigger policy. It gave him full protection from everything, except murder. Dear Mr. Valentine, I am enclosing $50. It's all that I can afford, but I am the only person who seems to care about stopping this horrible flood of gossip. Gossip that may actually kill a man. I know you've heard of the Martin Brill case you must have, even there in the city. Now please understand, I've never even met Mr. Brill, but I know that he's not guilty, and I know that you can prove that he's not. I have absolutely nothing to go on, but neither has anyone else in this town. Just because he's a newcomer, because he can afford to travel and prefers to stay off by himself, are those reasons why the entire world should be getting ready to hang Martin Brill for murder? So please, Mr. Valentine, come as quickly as you can. If you will be in the lobby of the Hotel Colonial by 10 o'clock tomorrow morning, please sit in the big faded couch next to the fireplace, and I will meet you there. Huh? And that's all. Oh, it's an A in the signature. None. She must have been so upsetter in such a hurry that... But she's not trying to hide her identity, George. I mean, she says she'll meet us tomorrow morning in the letters postmarked. It's you. It's the same as her date line. That's a stuffy little place. Look, see, I don't remember hearing about a Martin Brill case down there to you. No, but obviously there wouldn't be any danger of these being hanged unless there's already been a murder. Yeah. Yeah, and I agree with a good lady that gossip can do a lot of bad things. You are listening to Let George Do It. Our adventure will continue in just a moment. Now back to Let George Do It and George Valentine. We are, George, the big faded couch by the fireplace that's almost 10 o'clock. Get the local newspaper, Angel. The woman at the desk gave me hers. Everybody in this town sure has an opinion, all right. The guy killed his wife. Simple as that. Listen, it is now three days since the strange disappearance of Mrs. Britt. George, she was drowned. No, no. They went swimming together off their place down Shore Road, and she got a cramp and dron. He claimed he tried to rescue her, and I don't see what's... Oh, well, maybe it is kind of an unusual time of year for swimming. Time of day, too. It wasn't day. It was night. Yeah, a guy in the barbershop said he saw Mrs. Brill once a couple of years ago when they first moved here. Sort of a drab, mousy brunette. Not exactly the, I want to go swimming in so beautiful in the moonlight type. That's where Riley is dragging the bay. There were no witnesses. Caretaker named Nicholson, but he didn't see it. Brill's were away traveling most of the time. They just got back. He's a writer of sorts. And the chambermaid's full of gossip, too. Mr. Brill's behind in his rent. And yet somehow he had enough money to keep up the premiums on a big life insurance policy on his drab little wife. Yeah, life insurance. Lots of nails in the coffin, aren't they? Double indemnity. Does it say that, too? What? Oh, excuse me. Well, I happen to know what you're talking about. Who doesn't? He had her insured double, double indemnity. Oh, yes, 50,000 in case of an accident. Like drowning. Oh, it must say something about it. Hey, you want the paper, Frank? Go ahead. Take it. Yes, of course. Of course I want it. Makes good reading, doesn't it? More excitement than this little old town has ever had. Sympathized with a husband? But a rope around his neck. Oh, stop it, all of you. Be quiet. Well, we're running a forum. I think it's simply horrible, all this talk. The man's wife died, that's all. It's tragic. It's none of your business. Did you know her, lady? Nobody in town really did, or him, either. But I think this is... Thanks for the newspaper, mister. I guess he didn't care for your opinion, lady. That man was Martin Brill. Well, no wonder he overdid it. He must be a little bitter about all the gossip. But you'd defend him, wouldn't you? Me? What do you mean? You wrote us this letter. Here. This is your writing, isn't it? No, that's not me. And I assure you, I can tell my own handwriting. And I certainly don't need your help, Mr. Valentine. Nor anyone's. I'm an insurance investigator. Fran Jeffers. Oh, insurance investigator? That's it. You put on little acts so the man would think you're somebody on his side. Has your office already made up its mind? It's not going to pay off on that policy of his wife's? Not at all. You know better than that. In fact, we hate all this chatter as much as Mr. Brill does. Between you and me, Mr. Valentine, the company is starting a big sales drive. An investigation possible withholding of payment isn't exactly desirable. But you are. What? Well, your office thinks you are. They send out a lady detective who can maybe get next to Mr. Brill and maybe help prove he committed murder. And there wouldn't be a payment at all. Oh, you're too suspicious, Mr. Valentine. A life insurance company, doesn't you think? I'm not talking about your company. They're probably okay. I'm talking about you. You're here. And you listen to the gossip. Well, if you care to know what I found out. Oh, thanks, sister. I've heard enough gossip. From now on, I listen to nothing but facts. Okay, Sergeant. Okay. Fran Jeffers. Yeah, she's all right, Valentine. Very smart gal. Good reputation in her line. I hope she wears on a line, but that's not the point. Now, I waited in that hotel lobby till 11. The person who wrote me that letter never showed up. Why? How should I know why anything? Maybe the letter writer was afraid of public opinion. Or maybe the person couldn't show up. Disappeared. Maybe it's not healthy to be on the side of Martin Brill. So now you are, huh? Is that what you mean? Maybe. Or at least until I can find my missing correspondent. Or until you get busy and find the body of Mrs. Brill. Until I... Listen, Valentine. For three days, I tell people, cool off. There ain't nothing but circumstances against this guy. And with the other hand, I shut up the Coast Guard when they say you can't find a body in this bay. Too heavy-tied. And what's that crew doing out in the bar? I scrape my knees to the marrow and steal a net from a salvage company. Yeah, that's what they're doing. And they'll find her all right, don't worry. Martin Brill. Everybody hates him. Nobody knows him. When he reported her death as an accident, he acted like it was murder. But when an investigation starts, he just clams up. He won't defend himself. He won't stop the gossip. Dumb? Uh-uh. No. Nobody's that dumb. Of course I appreciate your interest, Mr. Valentine. I'm only volunteering my help, Mr. Brill. It seems to me... Oh, I suppose it's inevitable. Everybody's streaming out here like this, full of curious busybodies. Come out to watch the great dredging operation. Did you love your wife? Huh? Well, of course. No. Not particularly. Oh, I did when we were married. But she didn't enjoy people the way I do. Always wanted to be by herself, stay out of sight. Oh, I liked her though. We might have made a go of it. Great ability to say the wrong thing, haven't you? Why? Perhaps I'm just honest. I haven't been officially accused of anything, you know. Just going for an ill-timed swim and then being unable to save my wife's life. Why did you go for a swim at night, this time of year? Because we were both bored. We'd been having a fight. We wanted something to do to forget it. Oh, brother, open your mouth, put your foot. Yes, yes, I'm guilty, didn't you know? Well, stick around, Valentine. I don't want your help. But maybe some of the vultures will when they find there's nothing wrong with their body. Hello, fellow. Oh, hello there. Your name's Nicholson, isn't it? That's right. Curetaker. Yeah, the only witness. Yeah, I didn't see anything. Why not? I was down in my own room. Hadn't been to the Mr. and Mrs. for several hours. And along ten o'clock or so, I heard Mr. Brill give a yell for me, running up from the beach, stopping wet. And I took out a boat, called the Coast Guard, but you know the rest. Nobody else awake in these houses along here? All empty this time of year. It's the only place open on the whole shore road. Sure, open now, ain't it? Look at them fools. Curious, agonist. All convinced of just one thing. But you're not, huh? I ain't saying nothing. Mr. Brill's rude to people, and he's a writing man, but you can't hold that against him. Sure, I've even heard him say he hated her, but then you know what, he could be just talking. Hey, stay away from there, I'll get that phone. Hello? Yeah? Is anybody named Jeffers here, or Fran Jeffers? Oh, it's a lady, Mr. Nicholson. I think she's down at the hotel. No, here I am. Hmm. Well, wouldn't you know. Hey, they got her! And that's coming and down at the pier! Come on! What is it, Riley? What happened? Oh, it's all over. That's what's happened. We brought in the net we're all through, Valentine. It was empty. We didn't find it. Well, the Coast Guard warned you of tides or something. They'll never find it, Mr. Valentine. Not in the bay. All right, lady, you're so smart. It's been quite a display of public curiosity, hasn't it? And you couldn't help falling forward yourself? Oh, no, I didn't. Or at least being sympathetic, because everyone was pointing at Martin Brill. But the gossip played right into his hands, don't you see? I don't. See, what did you mean they'll never find her in the bay? The telephone call was from a relief man at a service station. He spent all day locating him. He was on duty the other night at a station down on the highway, where a sure road comes in. And I suppose he saw the drowning. He saw a man kissing a woman goodbye, and the woman running across the highway to a bus stop, trying not to be seen. What? Okay, lady, I'm a sucker. We're all suckers. It was Mrs. Brill, huh? Alive and cheeky. Alive and hiding somewhere. Just an insurance swindle. Double indemnity for 50,000 bucks. Simple. Yeah. Too simple. Martin Brill isn't that dumb. You are listening to Let George Do It. Our adventure will continue in just a moment. To George Valentine. Yes, you go to Bayview, but when you arrive in the gossipy little town, you can't even find the person who wrote you the letter. And it's for Martin Brill. He scarcely needs a defender. The police have been unable to locate the body of Mrs. Brill in the bay and probably never will. Still, if your name is George Valentine, you could scarcely agree with a lady insurance investigator who says it's all so simple. Who says Mr. and Mrs. Brill are merely trying to falsely collect on a double indemnity. Well, you see, I don't work at this service station regularly. I got my own place in Bayview. Look, never mind, kid. The point is you were on duty here the night of the supposed drowning. Check. Sure, that's what I told Miss Jeffers here on the phone. Tell Mr. Valentine the rest of it. Well, it isn't much, but along about ten, I happened to notice this couple walking down from the shore road. I had a fight with my girl, and maybe that's why I noticed him. He was kissing it. The woman, Mr. Valentine, not the boy's girl. Yeah, yeah, only what then? What did the man do? He just turned around, went back up the road. The woman, she pulled up the collar of her coat and tried to stay in the shadows over there, but I saw her when she ran across the highway to the bus stop. Then the bus came along, and that's it. Mrs. Brill. It couldn't have been anybody else. Nicholson insists there was nobody else out here that time. Okay, thanks, kid. I'll mention it. But the matter, Mr. Valentine, isn't the whole case good enough? I guess it is good enough, lady, so far. But how much farther can it go? We'll certainly never get Mr. Brill to admit that his drowning story was a phony, but his wife is really hiding out somewhere. Sure, sure, sure. For you, it's closed, all right. Sick the police on finding it, refused to make payment on insurance. But what else can we do? Even before this, we might have refused to pay for seven years because there was nobody. Just on the basis of the gossip, when your company's in the middle of a drive, oh no, you wouldn't have. Gossip works both ways, but now. Well... Yeah, I'm just stubborn, all right. I still want to find the person who wrote me a letter who maybe knows more than we do. And I've already had the woman at the hotel at my bill up. So... Sure. So goodbye. Hotel, colonial, ten o'clock. Sit on faded couch. Oh, George, for heaven's sake, forget that letter. It's all over. All right, all right, Booksy. What's that you got? Statement from the hotel down, baby. Save it for your income tax. All neatly written out. See, George? Yeah. Yeah? Valentine? Wiley, any luck finding the Brill woman yet? What? No, no, no. Of course not. It'll take us weeks. Probably turn up in China someplace. Well then. But I got you another letter, or a piece of one. It says, dear Mr. Valentine, it's been bothering me ever since you talked to me in the server station. Hey, wait a minute. Who's this from? That kid in the server station, remember? I found this in the wastebasket here. It says, about that woman, I thought I'd better tell you. And that's all he says. Wiley, what in the name of... Maybe that's all he could say, because he got interrupted. The kid's dead, Valentine. He's been murdered. Shot in the back, huh? Yeah, yeah, poor kid. Just a witness who saw that Brill woman sneaking off. Well, at least he'd already told his story. He was the only witness, Wiley. And he had something more to tell me about it. It had to be a robbery. I already checked where Martin Brill was tonight, and he's gonna now let me know. You know, I think I'll go study a big faded couch. Funny thing to mention, isn't it? I should have caught it when I got my first letter. A person would either have to live in a hotel, or work there to think of it as a faded couch. You sure you don't need to lie down on one Valentine? Oh, Wiley, I feel fine. I'm gonna have a talk with a person I should have been bright enough to meet on page one. The bashful lady who wrote me the letter. Here, here, take a look at it. The handwriting. And here's my bill from the hotel, see? Exactly the same. Same hair. Huh. The lady who asked me to come to baby you, and then let me stay there, and even wrote out my closing bill without saying who she was. The lady behind the desk. Mr. Valentine, I did write you a letter once, of course, but... You don't have to tell him anything, Lydia. Well, you caretaker here, too, Nicholson? I just came from a service station where a boy was murdered. Huh? Yeah, you heard me, both of you. So let's have it, Lydia, the whole story in fast. Oh, no. No, not that same boy, not the boy who saw me. Shut up, Lydia. Did you say, saw me? Yes. Yes, on the road that night, crossing the highway. Will you let me tell this idiot? You'll get your turn, Buster. Lydia, huh? Your last name isn't Brill by any chance, is it? Oh, no. No, no, it's just Lydia. Miss Lydia, Florence Lydia, but it's all been such a nightmare. I wrote you, you know, about gossip. That was a long time ago. But yes, it was me on the highway. Yeah, yeah. All right, get back to the beginning, the letter. You didn't meet me the next day. Why? Well, Fred here thought that... All right, you heard what gossip can do in this town. You can't even make friends or visit people without tongues wagging. I guess you were the man that kids saw walking down Shore Road, eh, Mr. Nicholson? Of course I was. But we intended to tell just as soon as the fuss died down. Well, I guess it doesn't figure. Things are what the evidence say they are. Not what they seem to be, but there's a little matter of triple indemnity now. Eh? What are you talking about? Yeah, you heard me. Triple indemnity. That insurance company stands to pay off on the biggest lawsuit any company ever had. I hurried as fast as I could, Mr. Valentine. Relax, friend, relax. Lieutenant Riley's gonna meet us out at Martin Brill's house, and I know Riley likes his breakfast. I won't do any good. Mr. Brill's already got his lawyers, my boss said so, and I'll be fired as sure as my smart little man is. Oh, now your boss knows better than to blame a good investigator. Good. Oh, sure. I've got a photographic memory. I'm always right. Well, now cool off and tell me how Mrs. Brill's life insurance policy stands as of now. She must really be dead. They don't need a body now to prove that, not without crazy caretakers' testimony, and what the Coast Guard said all along. When you look at them, even all the suspicious things about Mr. Brill fade into gossip, he was just being honest, that's all. How times do change? Well, I never did fall for all the talk, but I certainly fell for that story of the boy in the service station. That's when you put in your report recommending the refusal of Mr. Brill's insurance pay. I said with whole payment indefinitely, my company stuck its neck way out, and the acts will be sure to fall on me. Who knows about it? Everybody, the police, the banks, his whole town. He'll be suing your company, won't he? It'll be triple indemnity he collects, or maybe even better. You're so elementary. Do you blame Mr. Brill? No. But we'll have a talk with him. Oh. Here we are. Would you, uh, would you like some music on the radio, Mrs. Brill? No. I said, uh, like some music on the radio, Mrs. Brill. I thought if a joke is that. Huh, so a joke car has a radio, it has tubes. No, no, no. You don't think I'm going to sit here and let you do this? A lady insurance investigator would be an expert on how to swindle insurance companies. The main reason this shakedown lawsuit your husband's planning would work is because your company doesn't want to be embarrassed just before the opening of a big drive. Only Howard Martin know anything about them planning a drive. Easy. You're on the inside. You've always been on the inside. Always in the insurance game. Until you got the bright idea of being Mrs. Brill, whom nobody ever got to see very close. A drab brunette. That's you with a wig, I guess. And it's a cinch that with your makeup scraped off and a pair of glasses put on, you'd be drab. You're really bright. You remember everything. You recognize handwriting, for instance. And yet in one morning you looked at Miss Lydia's letter to me and at your own hotel bill made out by her and you didn't open your mouth. Why not? Who on earth is Miss Lydia? For a while I thought she might be mixed up in it too, but I guess she's not. But that caretaker, Mr. Nicholson, is, isn't he? What? Sure, sure, sure. The three of you. Martin, you, and Nicholson. I suppose he's just a hired hand, though. The guy who got next to a lonely spinster in Bayview so he could bring her out here on the day of the phony drowning and then make sure that she was seen sneaking away by that kid in the service. I don't even know what you're talking about. Your husband, Martin. His part was just to make people dislike him to behave suspiciously. Stop it, stop talking like this. Another one thing that kept bothering me was the amount of gossip too much for any time. But if you think back, you see that every piece of gossip had been fed into the fire by Martin Nicholson or you. Stop it, stop it, let go of me. I'm getting out of this car. You don't. But the boys let you down when it came to murder, didn't they? What? Yeah, last night when the kid was murdered, your husband was careful to have an alibi and Nicholson, he was careful to spend the evening with his lady love. What? What kid do you mean? I mean the kid. The only person in Bayview who looked at you and recognized you as Mrs. Brill. And you must have known he might. Must have been watching him and worrying about him. And finally had to kill him because he was on the verge of getting in touch with me. Yeah, that's right, lady. There was a crumpled note in the wastebasket. And at first I didn't catch on. I thought he was talking about somebody else. But he wrote about that woman, Mr. Valentine. I thought I'd better check on her now for the last time you stay in the car, sister. There's nobody inside that house but cops. Sure, that's it, cops. And you're two gentlemen friends. So now I'll just leave you and join them. They're waiting to hear my gossip. Your gossip? That's right. I know you're a tough nut to crack, so I'm going in to spread the rumor that you've confessed. Accused them of the murder. Gossip. You gave me the idea. Mr. Valentine. Don't go anyplace, lady. I got the car keys. Hey! Got that, lady? Stop it! That's better. Oh, brother. Thank you, Riley. I didn't think she'd still have the gun on her purse. She doesn't have it now. Quick confession. I thought you'd run for it, Franny. You never know, do you? Okay. And you warned me, too. It's such a simple case. To the conclusion of our Let George Do It adventure in just a moment. George, did you mean it? That without her makeup, she'd be drab? Sure. Sure it was easy for a good-looking girl like Fran to make herself moussey on her few stray visits out at Bayview. And that's the way she looked when she took out a policy back east several years ago. Double identity for a triple indemnity. But you said good-looking. That's what you said. Well, I'm still not my type, Angel, so forget it. Oh, I'm not jealous. I didn't mean that. I'm never jealous of the ones who are going to live in prison, but, well... Come on. Come on. Get away from the mirror. It's time to go. George, didn't it ever occur to you, if she looked that way when she took out her insurance, when she was playing the part of Mrs. Brill, then she must have been drab when she was married? Angel, just put on your lipstick. You have just heard Triple Indemnity, another Let George Do It adventure. Robert Bailey was starred as George Valentine with Virginia Greg as Bruxy. David Victor and Jackson Gillis wrote the story with music by Eddie Dunstetter. Now this is yours truly inviting you to another visit with Valentine when you will again hear what happens when you Let George Do It.