 mystery romance starring together in the sultry setting of tropical Havana and the mysterious islands of the Caribbean. The magic names of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall in bold venture and a tale of mystery and intrigue. One thing I don't understand Johnston and please tell me I'll try to explain why are we sitting here it just seems to me talking about this well Shannon's place is pretty public. Known as reverse cloak and dagger in the trade Mr. Shannon as far as any of your customers are concerned we're just sitting here eating cheesecake. It's fine cheesecake Mr. Bogart. Thanks. Now shall we go on? I don't think there's anything to go on about just a matter of whether sailor wants to help you or not. Sinclair is a clever man like all foreign agents have to be. We can't have him know that intelligence is on to him on to what his plans are why he's in Havana. It embarrasses me to appeal to your patriotism Mr. Valk. But whatever I have to do to convince you. All I have to do is go to this party show an ankle and bear a shoulder to Mr. Sinclair. Is that it? And convince him to drive you to this address in Saint Thomas. I'll meet you there. Let me get this straight. A man suddenly disappears in the States a man named. Fortner. Fortner. Guy loaded with secrets about nuclear physics. You think he's here in Havana and he's going to contact a foreign agent named Sinclair right? Right. Of course we just love to pick up Fortner and take him back but we don't know where he is. Sinclair we do. And Mr. Valk is going to bring him to us. I've gotten her name on the party's guest list. Am I going slate? That's a question. She's got a chance to wear a strapless and she says am I going slate? A more cheesecake Mr. Johnstone. I told you. Why don't you stop playing that piano and listen to me. I said. You said you were a persuasive man. I know that. What other possible use could you be to me? Don't patronize me Fortner. I wouldn't dare. You're a dangerous man Johnston. I confess you frighten me. That's rich. You carry in that bald skull of yours enough atomic knowledge to turn the world into dust and I frighten you. You never told me Fortner. To whom are we going to sell the fruit of this exquisite brain of yours? Whoever pays the most. Whoever makes the highest bid. I'm glad you remember. Sometimes you scientists are prone to become vague, forgetful about minor things. Like money. Not this scientist. Life in a test tube has become loathsome to me. Jolly glad to hear it. Now you may tell me how you persuaded the young lady. Simply. Ever so simply. I represented myself as being from American intelligence. Showed her Ford's credentials, appealed to her patriotism, flicked her vanity. She is lovely. And she will bring Sinclair to us? Mr. Val. On a proverbial platter. And what will you do with Mr. Sinclair? Kill him. I've never killed an intelligence man before. I wonder what it'll be like. Like the other men you've killed? Oh yes indeed. You're that girl with a fanciful name. Your sailor DeVal. I've seen you. Oh I'm so glad you've come to my party. What would you like first? Some food or a man? We have assorted quantities of both. Well a man would be nice. Where's the guest of honor? Louis Sinclair? Oh well I do suppose it's only for life. Louie, come here darling. I have someone here just frothing at the mouth to meet you. Well I would be delighted. And Louis, this is Sinclair DeVal. If you need any help, Louis. Scream. Hello Mr. Val. Hi. Well now. Well. Well what? Tell you the truth ma'am. I don't know. I'm guest honored this morning. Coke's come up and talk to me and I've been saying well now. Well it's been getting me by. You don't like parties huh? Well now. Well. Look Mr. Sinclair, you don't have to give me the routine. Relax. I'll tell you what. You can tell me about Texas. Oh the pleasure's all mine ma'am. On the balcony? With you sugarfoot? Oh yes a pretty and that Havana moon. It can't touch a Texas moon. The balcony Mr. Sinclair. Call me Louis. You're a real devil. Rootin' tootin'. Look at it. Havana. You ever been in Houston? No, but I've dreamed about it. Sweetest dreamer fella can have. Where you from Mr. DeVal? Tennessee. What you doin' in Havana? There was a man in Tennessee. That's why I'm in Havana. Texas man wouldn't let you go. He didn't let me go. He followed me to Cuba. Bob's like that. A whole Faulkner family is like that. Who? Bob. Robert Faulkner. Tall man, grained at the temples, little scar on his cheek, one of them brainy guys, worked in a government science project, didn't he? That's right. You know him? Oh do I know Bob Faulkner? Bobby used to spend summertime on Orange. What you know? Faulkner here in Cuba. Would you like to see him? Oh, as soon as I find him. Well, he's got a little place to sign to Moss. It's about 20 miles down the coast. We can get there in 15 minutes depending on the traffic. Bob Faulkner in Cuba. You know what I'm gonna do about you, Mr. DeVal? I'm gonna write to the boys back home about you, Mr. DeVal. They won't never believe I met up with a guy like you, even if I take a paralyzed oath on a system full of hymn books. Why, when I tell them how you... Oh, isn't this the address you showed me on the slip of paper, Mr. DeVal? Uh-huh. Your arm, Louie. Oh, the boys just won't never believe it, that's all. Well, I'll knock on the door. Yes, sweetie. You're sure Faulkner lives here. If he doesn't, I'll let you beat me at Lotto. Oh, Mr. Vaughn, I see you've accomplished your mission. You have brought us our quarry. The cornpone is all yours, Mr. Johnstone. Cornpone. That's rich. Very rich. Come in, Mr. Vaughn. Mr. Sinclair. Where's Faulkner? You want him, don't you, Mr. Sinclair? You've been stepping on his shadow ever since he ran away from Tennessee, and now you think you found him. Your errant girl told me he'd be here. Get him. Hey, Louie, you're shedding your hayseed. You know, I like you better this way. You're a lovely woman, Mr. Vaughn. That is, you would be lovely if all this weren't so sick-making. Hey, he can't talk to me like that, can he? Can he, Mr. Johnstone? No, of course not. No, you! Don't try, Mr. Sinclair. Just give him to him. Now our Mr. Sinclair will never talk that way to another woman. You killed him, cold blood. Mr. Sinclair was a tedious man. He wanted to rest my Mr. Faulkner so desperately. Oh, yes, because Sinclair really was from intelligence. True blue. And I brought him to you. We have many rooms here, Mr. Vaughn. Choose one suitable for weeping over him. He died a hero's death. Miss Saylor should go to big party. Show pretty, sold it to society. The party is over. The people have fun. Where Miss Saylor is big question. She's a Santa-Mars king. Morning's getting ready to start, Mr. Slate. She can be in Santa-Mars and back four times. Five times maybe. I figured it out and it came to six. I was going to say six, but I didn't want to worry you. Thanks. You worry about Miss Saylor all the time, don't you, Mr. Slate? Just once she's supposed to be home and she's not. Maybe I ought to go get her. What time is it, King? Five, a few minutes before. The coast train leaves at a quarter after. I think you ought to get Miss Saylor, Mr. Slate. Don't worry about it. I'll bring her back to you. Don't be a missus, senor. You will not mind that I sit next to you, eh? Not at all. She goes around. Yeah. Gracias, muchas gracias. I could see by your face that you are a very simpatico fellow. Thanks. Oh, that Havana. I think Jose Clemente outdid himself in Havana. Jose Clemente is me. Wait, Shannon. Had a big time, huh, Jose? Oh, in certain places in Havana they will remember my name. They carved my initials in the walls. They'll never forget you. Yeah, don't be too sure, senor. In Havana the profession is to forget. My man, his name, the days of yesterday. Help me, help me, senor. What's the matter? You feel sick? My ugly pain chases itself inside me around and upon. Please, I need atmosphere. Not so fresh atmosphere. Come on. We'll do out the observation platform. In my paper bag. Where's my paper bag? All of Jose is in this bag. Here it is. I've got it. Come on. Gracias, senor. Hey, I told you, you are very simpatico. Right out this door. You'll be all right. Make a deep breath out there. You'll feel better. Give me my paper bag, please, senor. In it I have pills. Pills to heal the sickness of going away from Havana. They are. Gracias. Fill pink pills in this. It surprises you, senor Shannon, that in this paper bag, Jose Clemente carries a gun. You don't. Especially when you pointed at a simpatico fellow like me. This is a remarkable little gun, senor Shannon. So little and still big enough to make you fall from this train. You'll never get to Santa Marta. I will shoot these and say you were drunk, but you and I will know that the little gun did it. It might not be that easy. It will, senor. If you do not fall, I will make a hole in your simpatico face and then throw you over. You have a choice, senor. Thanks. Thanks a lot. Why didn't you want me to get to Santa Marta, Jose? You can't tell me, can you? Little man with gun who tried to keep him from his destination. Little man he don't know, he don't succeed. Find his body by truck in railroad meet. Little man. All right, king. I got the message. I thought to take your mind off your troubles, Mr. Slade. You're kidding. The troubles of I got. A little punk tries to throw me off a train. We get into a fight and he falls off. Cops ask me why I did a thing like that. I tell them why. But three hours I tell them why. They don't believe me. What troubles, huh? The big trouble of not finding Lady Sailor where you thought her to be. Yeah. You came up with one. These others, the police, the little man, they do not make so much hurt as the absence of Lady Sailor duty, Mr. Slade. You won't sing me a song about it, huh, king? Well, it is not your wish, Mr. Slade. Thanks. You promised to bring her back to us. Yeah, I did, didn't I? I don't get it, king. I go to that address and Santa Mars is no one there. Just an alley cat and some hysterical chickens. I couldn't even find them or roost it. You told the police of the man from intelligence? The man, Mr. Johnstone? Mm-hmm. They never heard of him. But such a man would register with the police. It's always done. Pay attention, king. I told you I'd find her. All I have to do is start from the beginning. Remember how Sailor went to a party? Yes, Mr. Slade. You know, this time I brought her home, she might turn into a pumpkin. Comfortable, Mr. Vaughn? Why did you bring me back to Havana? Because the method of your disposal has not been contracted for. If I'm to kill you, the man has to tell me in what manner and for how much. It's up to the man. How does my hair look? I want to make a good impression. A forkner doesn't impress. Oh, so there really is a fork? Surely. This is his place. Of course he granted it, furnished, but it's indicative of his tastes. Expensive, like mine. Tell me, how does it feel to kill a man? It gets easier all the time. But here, let's talk of more pleasant things. And consider, shall we, these goblets? Crystal. Exquisite. And, yeah, hold one up for the light. Or, um, then this candlestick on the table. Hand wrought silver. Don't you shiver when you see something so beautiful? Never did. Mr. Johnstone? Yes. How much did you say you got for killing Sinclair? Two thousand. You want to shiver? Pardon? Wait a minute. Here, take a look at this locket. Just beautiful. Here, I'll take it off so you can see. The diamond in it is worth, well, your two thousand dollars would buy a corner of it. Here. Oh, I'm sorry I dropped it. Oh, let me. And you've got your foot on it, Mr. Vaughn. And you put yours right in it. What do you know? You debt it, Mr. Faulkner's candlestick. Oh, sailor, sailor. You're so brave and clever. Why do you fight it? Huh? There's humour in this. A killer lying at your feet, you standing over him with a candlestick in your hand. Irony, the essence of humour. Who are you? My name is Faulkner, and yours is Duval. It's fortunate. How about better things happen to me? You have a boat I've hurt, and I have you. I'll need both of you. And Mr. Shannon, and Mr. Johnstone, and this gun. Where were you selling? Go away. I'm Slade Shannon, Miss Grant. May I come in? Oh, oh, the exciting, the notorious Mr. Shannon. That'll be delightful. Come in, Slade. Ricky, darling, this is Slade Shannon. Oh, don't be frightened, darling. I'm here. That's right. You dash it here at my feet and play your native songs, and let me run my fingers through your curly, curly, black, black hair. Hiya, Ricky. And likewise, I'm sure. What is it you want of me, Slade? My presence at your little dive to lend it chic. Your presence does that in a dive? Isn't he divine, Ricky? Now, tell me, what is it you really want? A charity contribution? I'm looking for Mr. Duval, say what Duval. Oh, then it is a charity contribution. Why do you come to me looking for another woman? Your ghost, Slade. That means crude. Uh-huh. Where is she? I have the slightest idea. The last I saw of her, she was on a balcony with Louis Sinclair. Louis yelled, yippee! And they were all together into the somewhere. Into what somewhere? Wherever girls and boys have fun yelling yippee at each other. How would I know? But you know where Sinclair lives. You want to know too? Yeah. Now. Tease me for it. So help me, Miss Grant. If you don't give me Sinclair's address, I may hit you over the head with guitar, curly boy and all. Ricky! Are you going to sit there fingering that stupid guitar and let this, this... This wonderful man talk to me like that? Of course you are. You're keen, Rick. You're a pal. Try the Hotel Caesar Slade, because you're so thrilling. How about some service around here? Service! See, signal. I am the service. Kate, can I do for you? Kate, can I do for you? Kate means what? I throw in a Spanish word so I am colorful. This way the tourists don't mind no bath with your room. Do you have a senior to Sinclair with a room? Sinclair. Stop being so colorful. Just tell me where I can find Sinclair. Por favor. One second. I shall return. One little minute. Yeah, hurry back. Señor ourselves. Señor. Someone came for Sinclair. See, very dangerous looking man. I see him. I say to myself, ah-ha! Then when he asked for Sinclair, I say- Gracias. Oh, Señor Slade! Hey, what is this? I ask a man for Sinclair and I get a minion of the law. How come I get you, LaSalle? I ask you the same question likewise. And so? Look, Sala went to a party. She was supposed to meet a man named Sinclair. She hasn't been home. If she married him, I want to shake her hand and wish her things. If she married him, she should be crying. What? For she would be a widow. Sinclair is dead? Murdered. Shot. He was found beneath the pier at Santo Mas. Ah, where's Sala? I do not know, amigo. But one thing we do know. Señor Sinclair was not as he appeared. He was a member of the intelligence of your country. Sinclair was? I thought- Thought what? I don't have to think about it. Sala's in trouble. I've got to find her. Señor Slade! Arrest me later, LaSalle. I've got to find Sala. Good luck, amigo! There's a gun in your back, Shannon. Well, Johnston, I know. You want a dime for a cup of coffee? If you don't want a dime, the gutter. Get into that car. Your friend Faulkner handles my boat real good. He's the genius, time. How's everything? Hey, Faulkner! Where are we going? Tell him, Justin. We're going to meet a freighter in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. It's going to be a neat trek in this fog. Well, the genius will find it. He's not so smart. He needs a freighter. We don't need a freighter, do we, Sala? No, he's not smart. We're smart. Look at us. I've been looking at you, Mr. Faulkner. It took a blow with a candlestick to make me do it. It's a pity you're not going on that freighter. Where's it going? To a place of refuge. Or a place where they're going to pay us a lot of money for picking Faulkner's brains. They're very good for traders, huh? Well, you'd be surprised. Johnston got $2,000 for killing Sinclair. Didn't you, Mr. Johnston? Yes, I've got a quote. I like money. You know what I think, Johnston? What? I think for a man of your talents, that's a paltry sum. Real paltry, huh, Sala? Awfully paltry. What would you consider a fair price for killing a man? It depends now. If it were a man like Faulkner... Slate, how could you? Mr. Faulkner and Mr. Johnston admire each other. Oh, my mistake. You people have something on your mind. I've still got my locket. Here, it's in my hand. You could get $5,000 for it in any hot shop in the world. You can believe her. I've gotten it. All I'd have to do is shoot you, Mr. Vaughan, and I'd have the locket. My hand's on the rail, Mr. Johnston. If you shot me now, the locket would drop into the ocean. You'd have to get wet to get it. I'd make book. You wouldn't get it. It's worth $5,000. $5,000 to kill Faulk. I'm going to tell you people something you won't believe. We'll believe you. I never had $5,000 at one time in my life. You're not getting any younger, you know. Don't you ever get tired of meeting freighters in the dark? How do you know what these people on the boat will do to you? They don't need you. Faulkner, please, it's difficult enough. This fog... Let me take a second. Oh, what do you want? What? Johnston, he went overboard. You shan't miss Duval. The wheel sailor. Did good sailor. Faulkner. He's dead. Take the wheel slate. Maybe I'll be a girl for two minutes. Maybe I'll faint. What'd you get that locket? A man gave it to me. What man? A man. You love him? A lot. He was my father. Why'd you let me hock it last time? You were nice to me. Come here. What did you do that for? I want to hock it again. I might have known the first of the month. Payments due on the boat. I thought you owned the boat. I put a mortgage on it so I could get the hotel out of hock. Don't you own anything outright? Yeah, the moon. Come on outside and I'll give it here. And so our two stars, Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, have brought to a close our latest bold venture story. Special music was composed and conducted by David Rose. May we invite you to listen again next week at this time for another exciting adventure starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall together in