 Whistler, presented by the United States Air Forces in Europe. I'm 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. Tonight, transcribed, it's the Whistler's strange story, Element X. Time's dangerous part of living is the unexpected, the out of the of chance, circumstances beyond our control. It was chance that brought Grant Forbes out of a downtown building at almost the same time that his friend Lieutenant Driscoll of Homicide was passing by. Yes, Grant, chance brought you together that day, didn't it? And as the two of you continued along the sidewalk, chatting, neither of you had any thought to the sudden, violent action. It was the burst forth as you rounded a certain street corner. What is it? Get back, Grant, against the wall. Looks like one of our patrolmen winged somebody. Lieutenant Driscoll. Hold up, sir. I just happened to walk into Mr. Reynolds' store. This guy turns, starts to run out, and Reynolds' here. We heard the rest. Good work, officer. Nothing to it, Lieutenant. Just happened. I don't know if it happened in your law cases, but the way that pulled up artist got caught, I call it Element X. Well, how do you mean? Oh, the unexpected, the surprise. Oh, like the way that cop walked in on him? Exactly. Or sometimes maybe it's a woman who happens to be looking out the window. She gets a look at a license plate or notices the color of a car. I'd rather be on this side of the law. Oh, I don't know, Lieutenant. Element X can be taken care of. Figure it out. These hoods ought to consult a good lawyer first. Got it later, eh? And now, Grant, I've seen it too often. You can't beat the unpredictable. Well, here's my car. Drop you someplace, counselor? Counselor. That's a laugh. I haven't counseled three people in the last month. Come on, hop in. Okay, Lieutenant. So, you know, you may be right about your Element X at that. Now what? I wasn't expecting this ride. But many weeks after you talked to your friend, Lieutenant Driscoll, wasn't it, Grant? Yes. And they were weeks that seemed like months. And then came that phone call that was to make so much difference. What was the name again? Markham. Mike Markham. And, uh, like for you to drop out here to Malibu, Mr. Forbes, discuss a certain, uh, domestic matter. Okay, I'll be there. That place is all by itself. First, the maravista turnoff on the beachfront. Red Cardi's Flagstone Front is called Surfside. I think that's easier to look for than the number. Definitely. Uh, Mr. Markham, I was wondering, how did you happen to call me? I've done some inquiring around. During the tour, neither won't object to doing some, uh, personal research. You mean following somebody around? A little gum shoe work? Call it what you like. You'll be there, won't you? I'll be there. Tonight, please. Ten-shark. Tonight. Ten-shark. Yes, have you, Grant? Too few of your clients believe in paying their bills on time. And Floyd Markham sounds like a man with a problem. And a man with money. That night, you're right on time. And approaching Markham's secluded cottage on the waterfront. When you see someone slipping out of a side door, a woman, you step back in the shadows as she runs past you to a parked car. Then you hurry into the cottage. Huh. Mr. Markham. Uh, Lydia. Lydia. You know at a glance that the man at your feet is through, don't you, Grant? You stoop down quickly beside him. His identification tells you for certain that he's Floyd Markham, the man who sent for you. And you're afraid it's too late to find out why. Mr. Markham. Who was it? Who did this? Lydia. Lydia, my wife. Your wife? She sought you? She ran out of here? Yes. Lydia. Mr. Markham. You know, you're a little Lydia. Element X. In just 30 seconds, the whistler will continue with the night story. And now back to the whistler. Your visit to the Malibu cottage of Floyd Markham. The way you walked in on his murder was all along the lines of your friend Lieutenant Grisco's theories about Element X, the Unforeseen. The surprise that so often goes against criminals and murderers. It would go very badly now for Lydia Markham, too, wouldn't it? If you decided to play him the side of the lieutenant. But you haven't decided it that way, have you? No. Instead, you let a week go by. A week of watching the newspapers to see what the police know. A week in which Floyd Markham's funeral takes place, with his wife putting in an appearance as a grief-stricken, confused widow. And then you decide to pay her a visit. Mrs. Markham? Yes? I'd like to talk to you. On behalf of a client of mine. Oh, my kind. Great. Oh, I can't let it last. Permit me to explain, Mrs. Markham. My client was a witness to a sort of an accident. A shooting, I believe. Ralph! Ralph! Oh, it's a matter, huh? Who's this? Mr. Forbes. Grant Forbes, counselor-at-law. Ralph, I... I think we should talk to him. Come on in, Mr. Forbes. Thank you. I'm Ralph Leonard. You should know, too, that Mrs. Markham here has undergone a strain. You see, her husband... I know about the late Mr. Markham, and I would prefer to talk to Mrs. Markham in private, if it's agreeable. Oh, Ralph... Mr. Leonard is my... Well, he was my husband's closest friend. You can say whatever you have to say to both of us. I think I understand. However, under the circumstances, Mrs. Markham... Get to the point, Forbes. All right. Mrs. Markham, my client, who must at the moment be nameless, observed some interesting things on a certain night about ten days ago. More specifically, it was the night that Mr. Markham, uh, how did the newspaper's phrase it? Oh, yes. Died at the hands of a person or person's unknown. Your, uh... Client, counselor. He thinks this should have been phrased differently. He would change only the one word, unknown. Ralph. Ralph, that'd take it easy, Lydia. Okay, counselor. Okay. You mean that if my client should require a slight fee for his silence... I mean, get out of here. Well, now, you're making a mistake, Mr. Leonard. You're making a mistake if you don't get out. You haven't any client. You're just a cheap, low-sheister. Lower than a murderous, Mr. Leonard. Very well. My client won't like this, however. Supposing I told you there's half a dozen witnesses who'd swear your client was wrong. Client. Money buys many things, Mr. Leonard. In Mrs. Markham's interests, I would say it might be less expensive to buy one closed mouse rather than six perjured ones. I'll decide what's best for Mrs. Markham's interests. Very well. My client won't like this, however. Good day, counselor. Perhaps the last good day for Mrs. Markham. Relax, Mr. Leonard. I'm going. You walk out of the apartment, Grant. You're not sure, are you? Not sure how stubborn Ralph Leonard intends to be. And then, as you're waiting for the elevator to take you down... Of course. Oh, Mrs. Markham. I slipped out the service door. I hadn't much time. Please, tell your client that... We'll have to wait a few days. I'll arrange something. I mean, about the fee. Oh, here. You have my card, Mrs. Markham. I'll hear from you soon. Very soon. I promise. I must get back now. Mrs. Markham. Yes. If this is a stall, there's something to get me off guard while your dear friend, Ralph, figures out how to get me out of the way. I give you my word. He doesn't even know I'm out here. Please, Mr. Forbes, trust me. Oh, I'm the trusting sort, Mrs. Markham. Very much so. All right. I'll give you what you ask. A few days. Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. Good day, Mrs. Markham. I'll be looking forward to making any reasonable settlement from my client. Riding down on the elevator, you feel better about it, don't you, Grant? Yes. But that evening, as you park your car and start down the street toward your apartment, the shots splatter into the building wall beside you. You fall quickly to the ground. As you look up a car with Ralph Leonard at the heels, we're repeatedly around the corner. As you get to your feet, you realize grimly that he's decided to make certain of your silence to protect Lydia Markham and perhaps her money as well. The following day, you hit upon a neat and simple plan for eliminating Ralph without risk to yourself. You're unaware, of course, as you go about locating Ralph Leonard's telephone number that, at a point some 200 miles upstate, Element X is starting on its way toward you. This is your friend, the counselor. Remember? Oh, yeah. I remember. I'd like to make a deal, Mr. Leonard. I'm talking about a partnership. You play ball with me and we can make ourselves a little money. Go on, counselor. You interest me. Mrs. Markham need never know your part in it. And we split the profits. Well? Now, look. Yes? Sort of talk this over, huh? Fine. I'll let you know where and when. I'll be here at my apartment, counselor. You smile, don't you, Grant, as you hang up the receiver. You know what Ralph Leonard is thinking, what he's planning. Because he believes you're stupid enough to meet him at a quiet rendezvous where he can do his talking with a gun. You hurry out of your office. Get into your car and drive up town to Mrs. Markham's apartment. I asked you to give me a few more days, Mr. Ford. I know, Mrs. Markham, but I suddenly discover I have some rather pressing financial obligations to meet. You? Oh, your client, Mr. Ford. Oh, come, Mrs. Markham. Surely you must have guessed. Your friend Ralph did. Yes. Uh, aren't you going to ask me to sit down? Of course. And allow me to serve cocktails. I think you know, get too early in the day yet. Well, as I was saying... You're pressed, financially. I am indeed, Mrs. Markham. A few thousand would tide me over for a while. I don't have the money here. Can you come back tonight? If you don't mind that, rather, we met somewhere else. Very well. I'll phone you later. I'll tell you where. Now, if there's nothing further. Uh, there is. I think I'll have that martini after all. You've completed the second step of your plan, haven't you, Grant? Yes. And now you must select the scene of the crime. After you leave Mrs. Markham's apartment, you drive back downtown. Find the perfect setup. A dark, quiet street in the factory in Warehouse District. Still unaware that Element X, moving relentlessly toward you, is now less than 50 miles away. A few minutes before 9 that night, you step into a phone booth in a drugstore across the street from Ralph Leonard's apartment. Yes, counselor. I was wondering when you'd call. Still interested in talking business, Mr. Leonard? Uh-huh. Of course I am. Good. Suppose we meet on the southeast corner of 17th and Shannon Warehouse District. You know where it is? I'll find it, counselor. There's a building entrance about 15 feet south. Wait for me in there. All right, I'll leave right away. Hello? This is Grant Forbes, Mrs. Markham. I have the money. 3,000. Uh, I'm afraid that's not enough. I know. That was this afternoon. Now I need 10 grand. I get that kind of money at this time, and I shall be reasonable. Look, you've got jewelry? Well, yes, but... That'll do till tomorrow. Tomorrow? When your bank opens. You can get me the rest of the 10,000. You might as well get used to this. Yours was a very expensive murder, baby. Markham. Oh, and if you are thinking of calling your boyfriend Mr. Leonard when I hang up, don't bother. He just left his apartment building. Sure. He thinks he's got a date to meet me. While he's waiting up in Hollywood for me to show, you and I will be meeting somewhere else. Now listen to me. Give me a break, please. Save it, sweetheart. Meet me in half an hour, or I'll write a little letter to the police. No. No, don't do that. Half an hour. That's all you have. I'll be waiting at the southeast corner of 17th and Shannon. There's a building entrance about 15 feet south of the corner. I'll be standing in there. You've played the part perfectly, haven't you, Grant? Yes, and the trap is set. Mrs. Markham is desperate now, isn't she? Yes, she's killed before. And you're certain you've driven her to the point where she'll kill again. You hurry to your car and start toward the scene of the rendezvous. While only a few miles away now, Element X is moving toward 17th and Shannon. But you've forgotten all about Element X. Haven't you, Grant? Twenty minutes later, you park your car down the block. Move along the darkened street swiftly. Move as close to the corner as you dare. And see Ralph Leonard standing in the shadows of the building entrance. You turn back now and ease down the street a few doors and slip into a small bar. Uh, you do? Evening. What'll it be? Uh, let me see. Scotch and soda, I guess. All right. Things sort of quiet around here, I think. Eh, not much to do in this time of night. Well, why stay open? Oh, business picks up later. When the shift from the factory gets off, the boys come in for a beer. Nice to meet you. Here you are, sirs. Thanks. Uh, have one of me. Well, okay, I don't mind if I do. Beer's my drink. Here's to you. Success. Don't you like Scotch to me? It sure did. Come on. I'd say we'd better have a look. And now back to the whistler. Lieutenant Driscoll from Homicide stood quietly in front of the entrance to a building some 15 feet south of 17th and Shannon, making notes in a small black book. And from time to time, he glanced down at the bullet-bridled body of Ralph Leonard. A short distance down the block, the squad car was parked near a large trucked-in trailer. The squad car sergeant, finished with his questioning of the truck driver, came slowly to the spot where Lieutenant Driscoll was standing. Did you get a statement from the truck driver, sergeant? I did, Lieutenant. According to him, he was barreling down the street at a pretty good clip when suddenly a woman driving a green sedan whipped around the corner started pumping shots at this man, Leonard, standing in his entryway here. Uh-huh. Go on. One of the bullets went wild. Hit the front truck tire and there was a blow-off. And the truck went out of control, crashed into the front of that bar, huh? Uh-huh. The truck hit a guy as he was coming out. Just missed the bartender. Did the guy hurt bad? Died just a few minutes ago. His name's Forbes, Grant Forbes. Grant Forbes? The attorney? Well, that's what his card says. Why, did you know him? Yeah. I knew him. He had plenty to say before he died, Lieutenant. He told me who was driving that green car and fired those shots. Mrs. Lydia Markham. Element X. Element X? Hey, that's what Forbes said before he died. That's what he called the truck. Element X. What do you suppose he meant by that? Oh, it was sort of a theory between us. Now, it's a dead secret. Be with us again next week, when once again the United States Air Force is in Europe present. The Whistler.