 The Adventures of Sam Spade, Detective. To Detective Lieutenant Dundee, homicide details, San Francisco police from Samuel Spade, license number 176, subject, the Betrayal in Bumpers Hell. The raw bone pulled from the border country. He was a stranger to Bumpers Hell, but he was no stranger to trouble. He jogged his pinto down the narrow main street, not liking what he saw, and rained up in front of the sheriff's office. He dismounted and slapped the trail dust off his Levi's. Then he hitched up his gun belt and handled inside. He looked at the heavy-shouldered, blue-jowled man behind the desk and he didn't like what he saw. Neither did the sheriff, Lance Blaggett. State your business... Now, I can do it better than that. State your business and get out, he snarled. Red smiled thinly and brawled that, I'm looking for my brother. And what be your name outside of red? Here, I can do that better than that. And what be your name outside of red? Red gillus' hands slid toward one of his six shooters, assignably as a son coming up over the beauty. Gillus, he sneered. Red gillus from the Tonto Rim. That's pretty good. The sheriff's muscles tightened like steel springs and pulled them erect. Ain't no Tonto Rimmer welcome here abouts in bumper's hell. He cursed. That was real good. And then the slap of four hands on leather was followed by the simultaneous roar of four six guns. Hey, wait a minute, the sheriff... I'm not in there. Well, who is it? The sheriff is just... Exciting part. Mr. Fade, now see here, I won't take no for an answer. It wouldn't be neighborly. What is it, Mrs. Kelsey? Whatever you mind, come along. What are you up to here anyway? Oh, me? Oh, nothing. I'm just relaxing with an apple and a good book, that's all. I don't see no apple, and the only reason matter I see is some western trash. Trash? Now, come on, there's trouble on the third floor. Well, there's trouble in bumper's hell. Don't you swear at me. I know my duty, and I know your duty. Now, come on! Ouch, okay, look, oh, my ear. That dandy's to help me is how it started. Effie had just read a book called Harder Relax, and it said there that western stories were relaxing, and that's how I happened to be at home at 10 p.m., writing herd and a copy of sheriff and outlaw, rip-roaring adventures of the Old West. But bumper's hell had no fury like my neighbor, Mrs. Kelsey. I left Red Gillis and the sheriff face to face and vice versa, eyes flashing and guns ablaze, and followed her meekly up to the third floor. Show me, put your wig back on. I'll see what I can do. Oh, you stinker, Joe Donegan, who was just left. And you can tell him as from me, but I'm extremely unimpressed with his cheap threats to rub me out. Which I care to. That's pretty good singing. Well, you better tell him that yourself. I don't imagine I'll be singing. You won't. Wait a minute, who are you anyway? Just another tenant. I, uh, live downstairs. Now I recall whom you are. You are that shameless, which lives on the second floor. Uh, Shamus, we call it in the radio. Shamus, would you care to come in and discuss a certain matter? Well, uh, thanks another time. I gotta get back to bumper's hell. Whoever she is, let her cool her heels for a few moments. No, you don't understand bumper's hell. This is a urgent matter, which I would like to hash over right now and without further delay. Well, I, uh... May I invite you in for a straight slug? Well, uh, okay, but just one. In a glass. All right, make yourself comfy. That's up to the lipstick mark. Here you are. Well, now to make a long story short, Mrs. Fade, my name is Rose Mary Fell, which remains my stage name, not withstanding the circumstance. But I am legally married to that barnacle which has just dusted this joint. Now, being as you are in the detective business... Now, wait a minute. I don't kindly permit me to finish, honey. Sorry, sweetheart. I'm not the type to jaw about my troubles just to pass the time of day. I'm sure you are. I am an actress. I knew that. And although I'm low in funds, due to being between jobs right now, on account of that knot I had making a scene in the last joint at which I worked, just to show you how the breaks fall, Mrs. Fade, Belita Wilkerson, who just happens to be about the biggest talent agent in this city if you have the time, I'm impressed. phoned me on the telephone and arranged an audition. She also advanced to be the sum of 100 clams. 100. Which I will pay you to put the bee on that dog, Joe Donaghan, the rat. Which is he? What do you mean, put the bee on him? Listen, Sam, that grifter has got a record as long as my arm. And what I have got on him is longer than his arm. Please. In short, I should like him thrown into the can so that I can feel safe to sing on him. Look, Rosemary, so you had a fight with Joe. You saw her. You want him to pay. You want to pay him off. Now, why don't you just wait until morning and see how you feel? Sam, listen to me. That knuckle duster remains at large. I will be feeling no pain. Now, I know that from my flamboyant manner, you'd never guess it. But that is only the actress in me. In actuality, that flea intends to do me in. Oh, now, come, Rosemary. What? You disagreed? Well, now, really, Rosemary. Why a big pain in the... Rosemary. I am drinking my... Pour that back in the bottle. Don, put it back in the bottle. Well, I'll be going now. Only trying to be neighborly. Well, back to Bumpus Hell. This blaggot, the smoking coat still gripped in his hairy fists, suddenly pitched forward like a fallen Joshua tree at Red Gillis' feet. Red leaned over with a thin smile, playing at the corners of his mouth, not liking what he saw, and lifted the badge off of Bladgett's cowhide vest and pinned it on his own. Bumpus Hell had a new sheriff. Hmm? Eh, hey. Hey, then I heard it. It sounded like a man sneaking up a fire escape. Over the window, raised it and looked up. I didn't like what I saw. An overcoded figure reached the third floor landing and stood silhouetted against the lighted window of Rosemary's apartment. He was about the height and weight of that rat, Joe Donigan. By the time I rolled out the window under the fire escape, his right hand had come out of his coat pocket. Donigan! Donigan, watch it! I didn't want to get too close to him until I passed that lighted window. He made the roof just as I crossed in front of it. The classes from his revolver told me that. They also told me he had two slugs left to throw at me. The only light up there was a feeble glow from the skylight dead center. I headed to the cover of a brick shim, made just to the left of it. I had two things in mind. The skylight was its most logical avenue of escape and I hoped I could tease him into emptying his gun at me. It didn't work. I stuck my head out. No shots. But he did use his gun. I should have stood in Bumpus Hell. The United States Armed Forces Radio Service is presenting the weekly adventure of Dashel Hammett's famous private detective, Sam Spade. One of the sheriff of Bumpus Hell is turning in his bag. Yes, and, honey, you've got to pull yourself together. Now, come on, come on, come on. These delirious Truman's will get us no place now. Come on, Sam. Yeah, you're sure right. Come on. Now, do not rush things, honey. That was quite a clip he gave you. Yeah, where were you? I was combing my hair out of the window. And he was on the fire escape, not four feet away. Not a very good shot, is he? No, he isn't. Oh, Sam, look at your poor little head. Here, now, let me kiss it and make it well. Wild root. Yes, you know, it gets me ahead socially and on the job. Oh, well, now, what next, Sam? Rosemary, I am going to the top now. My dander is up. Let's have a moment of silence while I put through a call to Lieutenant Thomas Dundee of Homicide. It took your boys less than an hour to locate Joe Donaghan and haul him in, Lieutenant. Rosemary's charges were not enough to hold him on attempted murder, and all I could identify was the back of his neck. But you were good enough to bag him anyway, so Rosemary and I could relax. I went downstairs to bed and started Chapter 4. Uh-huh. Red Gillis didn't trust Curly Mallard, the foreman of the Crooked S. Uh-huh. Frosch, Harry speaking. The human mind is unpredictable, Dundee. From his health, a thin smile began to play around the corners of my mouth as I climbed the stairs to Rosemary's apartment. When I got there, I didn't like what I saw. It was a note pinned to the door. It said, dear Sam, I have been called to do another audition. If anything crops up, you can reach me at Greystone 34292. Hobson's Choice. Were you there? As a matter of fact, I was. Would you like to hear about it? I would. Well, first, I'd better tell you a little about my fear. I've been interested in politics. I do say so myself. Yes, yes, I know. You ran for assembly. Come to the point. My wife's a professional woman, and her own career keeps her busy. A good deal at the movie magazine, say, a clash of careers and so on. That's how I happened to take up with Rosemary. I didn't know she was married. And of course, when I found out, I dropped her like a hot potato. Potato, yes. Potato. And then she started blackmailing me. Did you know about that? I still don't. Well, I think I can convince you. Go ahead. Well, I received a series of threatening phone calls from Rosemary. And I finally decided to go to Donaghan and tell him the whole story. Oh, he was as mad as a wethead. Wethead? Well, he said he'd stop her. And I believed he was the right man to do it. Well, last night he phoned me. He said he'd had a little, little caucus meeting with her. And assured me I'd have no more trouble. But no sooner had I hung up that phone when she called again making another outrageous demand. I decided then and there to take things into my own hands. So happens I'm a crack shot. And I knew that I could come close enough to frighten her without actually hurting her. You were laboring under a false impression, huh? Oh, yes, yes. Well, you believe me now? Up to a point. Well, I'm afraid that's all I have for you, Mr. Space. Well, I have something for you. Oh, what's that? Look up here. You see this bruise in my head? Well, all in the game, you know? To shake. I still, I'll get it. Yeah? This is Rosemary again. Listen, I want to talk... No, this is me. You change it. Yeah, look, Rosemary. And I am just the work. Yeah, well, look. I could be. Rosemary Fowle's still here. Did you have an appointment today? Hey, yes, honey. I called this morning. She was here then. Oh, wait. You must be mistaken about it. The office didn't open till noon today. Yeah. Well, could I talk to Miss Wilkerson? She hasn't heard us now. Oh, she hasn't. She never gets into a one. Not into a one. She's over at KQW cutting a transcription for our new show, Gold of the Girls and Gay. Oh, no. I mean, Gayle of the Girls and Gay. Don't you mean Gayle of the Gold and Gay? That's it. Girl of the Gold and Gay. You said it. I'm glad. Well, anyway, she's in here. Oh. Oh, yes, Miss Wilkerson. Your heart... Oh. Well, Miss Wilkerson, I was telling this gentleman, you weren't here. Obviously, I am. Did you have an appointment? I talked to you on the phone this morning. Spade. Oh, Rosemary's friend. Well, you might know. She'll be out in a moment. What a distressing business that was last night. Rosemary tells me you saved her life. Well, that's a slight exaggeration. In fact, the whole thing was a mistake. Oh, really? I understood that... Oh, here she is. Rosemary, here's your friend. Sam, I am glad to see you. Yeah. What's the matter? Plenty. Oh. Well, thanks loads, Miss Wilkerson. I hope the recording is better on this one. I'm sure it is, Rosemary. We'll call you when the client makes up his mind. Oh. Well, thanks again. Come on, Sam. Goodbye, Mr. Spade. Goodbye. Sam, what is this new development that appears to be griping you? Uh, why didn't you tell me you were shaking Hobbs and Don? Uh-huh. And who's been feeding you this pile of gross falsehood? Look, Rosemary, you may be an actress, but with me, your audition is over and you did not get the part. And just what are your future intentions and regards to me? None whatsoever. I'm sorry I ever met you and I'm going back to bump as hell. The office swiveled my chair into a comfortable position, opened the February number of share of an outlaw to page 112, the trail in bump as hell, Chapter 5, Stampede. It was disappointing. There was a lot of stuff about boiling cattle and dust clouds and flowing curly standing on top of a butte, not liking what they saw, when somebody yelled Stampede. Red Gillis was riding ahead of the cattle and his horse stepped into a chuckle and he sprained his ankle. Red of the horse, it didn't say which, but red was lying prostrate on the path of the avalanche of parsing horns, not liking what he saw. Uh, hold it a minute. Let's see. It's on page 113. Learn to be a private... Hello! Stampede. Such as? Oh, she got him. Oh yes, I do remember I must have left the door unlocked. Where were you? I just got out to get some cigarettes. Did you approve it? Oh, afraid not. I got halfway and found I didn't have any money and came back. You came back, walked through this room, went in the bedroom and didn't see the body until you started back. The lights were off. I stumbled over it. This is the gun? Yes. She did it with my own gun. Oh, I never dreamed her love for me would drive it as self-destruction. Of course, now it's clear what really lay behind our poor, clumsy effort to blackmail me. It was a desperate move to get me back. Oh, I'll never forgive myself for driving that poor girl to this. Don't worry about that, Hobbson. This isn't suicide. Murder? Oh, great heavens. What will Belita say? Belita? Yes, my wife. Belita Wilkerson? Yeah, professional name, you know. I was explaining to you before that... Oh, that's my wife now. What in the world do I tell her? Never mind. I'll get it. Hello? Who? I'm just calling. Why she wants you back, I will never know. But I sold you cheap and you weren't worth a cent. Yeah, Rosemary, I guess we were all too late. I called you, Dundee, and then, like the rat I am, made off of your prize suspect before you and your boys from homicide arrived. We arrived at the Belita Wilkerson family agency, just as the boss was shutting up shop for the day. She had the recordings under her arm. All right, Belita, I'll take those. Well, what are you? Warner! Mrs. Payne. Unlock the door, Belita. We're going back in. Warner, why are you... You better do as he says, Belita. Well, all right, but... Give me those keys. I don't... Inside both of you. What do you play these records? The recording studio is just through there, but you can spare yourself the trouble. I admit I tricked Rosemary into recording those blackmail speeches and then played them back over the phone to Warner. Trying to hold on to my husband is a crime. Then I'm a criminal. Oh, now, Belita, my dear. Come on. Stop that. We've got to get busy. I phoned the Hobbson house and you were still there, Dundee. You said it was an open and shut case against Hobbson and blubber him at once or kiss my license goodbye. But when I told you, my thigh obli... thigh obliquely in genius scheme, you said yes, you'd be glad to because it was a sure way of getting rid of me once and for all. It took us nearly two hours to get things ready in Belita's recording studio. We took the parts of Rosemary's so-called audition records that we thought would fit the occasion and dub them onto a single side. We played it back once, then I phoned you at headquarters. Spade, Dundee. Everything's ready here. Did you pick up Donigan? Oh, yeah. Hold on. Okay, Belita. Start the record when I give you the nod. Yes. This is Rosemary. I forgive you for everything, but there are some things I cannot forget. You lie. It sounds like you. We have meant a lot to each other, but after what you have done to me, it is time you take through the nose. Rosemary, I didn't mean it. When I followed you to this house, you went right in like you live there. I just went nuts. What you have done to me, it is time you take through the nose. You rat. Listen. I am a girl who does not like to do things halfway. Listen, honey, you're not going to fall apart at me. I am just a guy for your voice. I thought you would get. We have meant a lot to each other. Okay, tell it. Rosemary, you're listening. Just fainted temporarily. Say it again, will you, pal? Thank you, Dundee. I feel better already. That abundantly clear. No. In order to discredit her husband's paramour, Belita gave her a come-on about an audition. I had her play the part of a blackmailer reading lines from a script which she, Belita, had prepared. And thereupon proceeded to play set records over the telephone, well knowing that her husband would erroneously believe Rosemary to be a blackmailer, in fact, and would drop her like a hot spud. No, Sam. No, I don't mean no. Don't hit her up. It was my inspiration. I, Sam Spade, to use Belita's Fendi's device for a hire for... No, Sam. No, that is not it. No, Sam. Isn't it the western story? Betrayal in Bumpus Crick. It is not Crick, Effie. You can't say H over the radio, Sam. Oh, yes, you can. Bumpus Hell is the post office designation of a hamlet right here in California. It is? Mm-hmm. Did Red Gillis ever find his brother? I didn't quite finish it. Go type that up and I shall. I... Effie, it doesn't happen. It's a misprint. That's what it is. What, Sam? Maybe the writer was tired. Oh, Sam, it's only a story. That's what you think. Well, did Red Gillis find his brother? I won't tell. Oh, not, Sam. Oh, well, all right. Remember the sheriff he shot on page one? What? Yeah, it turned out to be the new schoolman. Oh! Get off. Good night, sweetheart. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio Service, the voice of information and education.