 Herbert Marshall as the man called X, wherever there is mystery, intrigue, romance, in all the strange and dangerous places of the world, there you will find the man called X. If you suffer from pains of headaches, neuritis or neuralgia, you should discover what many thousands have known for years, that anison brings incredibly fast, effective relief. Anison is like a doctor's prescription, that is, anison contains not just one, but a combination of medically proven active ingredients in easy to take tablet form. Probably at some time you received an envelope containing anison tablets from your physician or dentist. Thousands of people have been introduced to anison this way. Try anison yourself the next time you suffer from the pains of a headache, neuritis or neuralgia. You will be delighted at how quickly relief can come. Anison is spelled A-N-A-C-I-N. Our druggist has anison in handy boxes of 12 and 30 tablets and economical family size bottles of 50 and 100 for your medicine cabinet. Ask for anison today. It's nothing at all unusual for Kim Thurston to come hurrying into the office of the bureau in New York City. But what is most unusual is the receptionist he finds there this morning. Well, oh, what happened to Miss Brooks? She had to step out to powder her nose. Oh, I see. Shall I announce you? I know all about these things on the jigs. Good. Just tell the man on the other end of that thing the jigs. Oh, I know who you are. Really? Sure. You're the man who's always going somewhere. Who told you that? Daddy, he says you're the only man in the world who could answer all my questions about places and people. Daddy never has time to answer any of them. Oh? He's always working in his laboratory. Oh, wait a minute. Now I remember you. Honest? Of course. Your father is Dr. Simon Markov. The eminent physicist. He came to Mommy's funeral that time. Yes. Marilyn, since you're so interested in places and people, I'll be if I send you a souvenir for my next stop. I'll be even just hearing from faraway places. It's a promise, then. We live in Schenectady. That's in New York. I'll write down the street address. Oh, don't bother. After all, I'm the man who's supposed to know all those things. Now, how about announcing me? Sure. Yes, Miss Brooks? Mr. Thurston to see you, Chief. Huh? Miss. Miss. I can explain everything, Chief. Oh, can. Glad you're here. Dr. Markov, good to see you again. Mr. Thurston, I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you and the Chief. You make it sound pretty serious. No, it is worse than that. Worse than anything that I could ever have imagined. The security leak, then. Oh? Anything to do with the doctor's experiments on a new type of atomic reactor? Oh, you know about that? Yes, I'm not the only one. Oh, Mr. Thurston. Then yesterday in Strasburg, a man was shot down while resisting arrest. It turned out to be a red messenger, a courier. Yes. And I still cannot believe he should have had any information about my experiment. It is impossible. Dr. It's about time we in the West learned that the Red Espionage System specializes in the impossible. What every precaution was taken. Now, what can they do but suspect me? Especially with my old world-birth and background. This is a lot more important than just you, Dr. Malkov. Oh, believe me, Mr. Thurston, I did not come seeking your help because I... Well, I know, Doctor. I know. Tell Maldon I'll be sending her that souvenir from Strasburg. Strasburg Cathedral? Also latest postcards from Paris. Strictly high-class indeed. Mr. Rex, well, what you got to say for yourself? Pagon, the world isn't that small. Why do you have to be here in Strasburg? So we'll go to Switzerland. See, I already got two plane tickets for Lucerne. What about Lucerne? The plane leaves in an hour, while I was almost beginning to think you wouldn't make it. Pagon, what about Lucerne? Well, I was in Paris working on a big deal. Yeah, of course, the postcard. And you understand how it is with me, always with my nose under the ground stone. So when I hear about this red courier business, right away I say to myself, how much is there in it for me? Well, I'm only a fooling about the money. You certainly are. Except for expenses, of course. And don't forget the 500 francs. What 500 francs? That I had to give to my bosomy friend, the chiseler, for telling me that the red messenger fellow came to Strasburg from Lucerne. Hey, where are you going? Inside, to see if you got your money's worth. Right, Monsieur Fersten, that we have as yet been unable to learn where the courier was coming from. That is, with any decree of certainty. But you did learn something, Captain. Ah, oui. One informer told us, for a thousand francs, that the courier was on his way from Lucerne. Four thousand francs, sir. Oui. But until we can find some way of confirming the tip of this Zelschmitt person, listen. It's right outside, let's go. Where? Where? Trying to call into the sewer. All right, come out of there, Pégant. Don't do this to me. I'll write to my congressman and cut off you from the Marshall plan. Oh, Mr. Fersten. Zelschmitt, what is the meaning of this? Zelschmitt, it must be a case of mistaken identity. A fellow I never saw before in my life. It goes ratatatata. Ah, and what do you think, Monsieur Fersten? I think, Captain, that the information about Lucerne has been kind of confirmed. So you wouldn't believe me, Mr. Fersten. All right, so I proved it to you. At the risk of my life. Absolutely, the red agent came to Strasburg from Lucerne. Pégant, don't you usually charge for your information? That man might have crossed the aisle from you. Pretending to be asleep. He hasn't missed a word of your broadcast. Yeah, well, I'll tell him a thing or two. Say, I know that joker. That takes care of his reputation. Sure, I know him. Zelschmitt never forgets a face. How about a name? All right, I'll tell you. Well? Just a minute. Hey, you, wake up. Eh, what? Go, go, go. Good to see you again. Good to see you. Hey, what's your name? I have never seen you in my life. Now, why do you want to know my name, please? I am Pégant. Pégant Zelschmitt, now you remember. Pégant Zelschmitt? No. Look, enough is too much. I never forget a face. Or a name. Sorry. Look, you tell me or I'll tell the police. And what will you tell the police? You thought you wouldn't. Eh, that I wouldn't traveling in Cognita to fool me. I know all about you and that red message. Please, I do not know what you are talking about, but all right, I will tell you my name. Now, it is Anton Beaver. Uh-huh. Anton Beaver. Why, we used to be in the same jail together. No, no, that's not your name. And why should I lie to you? My name is Anton Beaver. If you want, you can have a look at my passport here. Forged naturally. But I'll look at it. I live in Lucerne. I travel for a manufacturer of watches. You see, everything is written down here. Now, why should you make trouble here? Ever been to the United States, Herr Beaver? Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh. Yeah? Give him back his passport, Pager. But, but, Mr. Thurston. And keep trying to remember the name you think you've forgotten. Look at him, Mr. Thurston. Can't wait to get away from the airport. And him trying to tell me his name is Anton Beaver. When I knew it's, it's, uh, Mr. Thurston. Well, Pager? I thought of it. I mean almost. Oh, come on. I'll leave it behind, and I don't mean almost. But, but now it's rather than a tip of my tongue. Mr. Thurston, may I have a word with you? Oh, I wish you would. Here's the newspaper room. Vanja Sabine. Your name was on the flight list from Strasburg. And I wondered... Pleased to meet you, Vanja. I am Pagan Zellschmidt. Uh, anything you want to know, just ask me, eh? I will. Suppose we get out of this crowd. What newspaper you're with, Mr. Sabine? Oh, none in particular. I'm what you call, uh, freelance. I thought there might be a story in your... mission? Oh, sure. What makes you think I'm here on, on a mission? You stand as a good place for the health? Not always. May I quote you on that? That should have been my question. Well, maybe you've still got others. One in particular. What about the red courier who was killed in Strasburg? Yes. What about him? Maybe I'll have better luck interviewing you next time. If there is a next time, Mr. Thurston. Hey, you know something, Mr. Thurston? She's got the classiest front page. Yeah, what? Hmm, what's this? Hmm? A piece of paper stuck on your coat pocket, so what? It wasn't there when we got off the plane. Probably that luscious lily or somebody that pushed up against you in the crowd. Or it might mean nothing. Then again, it might mean we're near the other end of the... connectivity line. Ten thousand in American dollars. Number six-day haul buying strasser. Midnight. Yes, Mr. Thurston. We have now divinely established the fact that the red courier was here in Lucerne the night before he went to Strasburg. We are sparing no effort in pressing our investigation. Inspector, what about the girl? Vanessa Bean. Oh, and here we have complete dossier. Yeah, I thought you would. At the various times she has been suspected of espionage activities. Oh, and it's suspected. What about Anton Bieber? Ah, a puzzle, this Bieber. We have reason to believe that there is something in his past which is hiding. But again, we can prove... No, please. Oh, your pardon. Inspector of a bride? Moment. For you, Mr. Thurston, a call from New York. Oh, thanks. Hello. Hello, Ken. Yes, Chief. I wanted you to know, Ken, that things in this end look worse. Much worse. Oh. Everyone who came into the slightest contact with Markov during his experiments has been given a clean bill. And from the nature of the information found on the red courier, the opinion here is that it could only have come from Markov himself. That does look bad. What? Tell him something from me, Chief. There is such a thing as being too innocent. This is the place all right, Pagel. Number 60, Albarn Strasse. But it's an apartment house, Mr. Thurston. How are we going to find out who we're supposed to meet? Only one light burning on the lower floor. But that's where the concierge lives. Good morning. Wait, Pagel. Before you knock on that door, let's have a look at the names on these mailboxes. It's so dark in here. It gives me the creepers. Look, why couldn't we come back in the morning? This match ought to brighten your spirits. Anyway, what good does it do to read the names of the tenants? Just names? Greta, Tanzinger, Anton Biber, Vania Sabin. Hey. Yes. Three tenants in the building and two of them that we've met. Mr. Thurston, something tells me I should have been told not to come here with you. Don't stop being yourself, Pagel. And knock on the concierge's door. Well? Oh, here. See? Nobody's home. He stepped out. At midnight? See if the door... Yeah. But maybe he wouldn't like us for too... So that's why the concierge didn't answer. His... his head. Oh, did he get bumped? I can't have been dead very long. Oh, something clenched in his fist. Mr. Thurston, why don't we just call the police? Get down, Pagel! I'm so jealous. Crawl out from under that rug and look at this. Just a tiny scrap of paper. Yes, a tiny scrap of paper. But it happens to be the postmark from a letter. A postmark that reads, it's connected to New York. We return to Herbert Marshall as the man called X in just a moment. This is Bob Hope. Can we steal a second? Say, Bob, did you notice there's a new Chesterfield poster of you around town? Yeah, I saw one in a drugstore the other day. I'm dressed up as Santa Claus. Yeah, and you're holding a carton of Chesterfields with a picture of being, you know, who dressed up as Santa Claus. And you're saying, for Christmas gifts, here's the answer. Yep, Crosby for Christmas. Bob, seriously, why did they make Crosby Papa Santa Claus on the Christmas carton instead of you? Well, high by tradition, Santa Claus is an old man. Yes. Always carrying a sack full. Well, in all fairness to being, Bob, I must say it's a very attractive gift. And it's packed with 200 of those always milder Chesterfields which make as fine a gift as anyone could give or anyone could get. And folks, if you want to prove that just for yourself, make that Chesterfield mildness test. Open them, smell them, compare them and smoke them. Chesterfields, Chesterfields always win first place. That milder mild tobacco never leaves an aftertaste. So open a pack, give them a smell. Then you'll smoke them. See you Tuesday night, folks, for Chesterfield. Now we return to Herbert Marshall as the man called X with Leanne Balasco as Pagan Zelschmetz. Seems the person knew answer. Yeah. Venya Sabine seems to keep late hours. If you ask me, the whole apartment house is as dead concierge downstairs. Come on, Pagan. We'll check the other tenants. Say, Mr. Thurston, you don't think a goldilocks like Vanya could do a thing like that? Like what? Try to kill me. No, you've got this whole thing tipsy-turvy. She couldn't be mixed up with that red courier in Strasbourg and this Markov guy in Schenectady. Bieber doesn't seem to be an either. Hey, how did I forget Anton Bieber? Why, the minute I saw him on the plane, I knew beyond the shadow of a shadow. And you had to let them together with... Oh. Why did you wake me up, please? You sleep with a soundly, Herr Bieber. Oh, it is you. Yeah, and him. Yeah, and me. And don't think you can pull the wool over my clothing. Just because you come to the door in a nightgown don't mean you didn't shoot at us. Shooting? Rescans? You didn't know that your concierge had been murdered? Oh, so? Who murdered him? Well, if we knew that, we wouldn't have any more questions. Oh, it's such a quiet man, the concierge. A fly he wouldn't kill now. Why should anyone want to hit him over the head? Yeah. How did you know he was hit over the head? I... Better go back to bed and sleep on that one, good man. Yeah, good night. Hey, Mr. Thurton, you ain't gonna go walk off and leave him to walk off? I'm telling him over to you, Pigong. Keep both eyes on him. Well, I'll go up to talk to the last tenant. You know me, Mr. Thurton. Oh, yeah. Freiline Totzika? You are... are with the police? You heard the shooting, then. I have been afraid even to look out of my door. But forgive me, uh... My name's Ken Thurston. Oh, and you are an American? Yeah. Yes. You see, for most of my life, I have been a teacher in the Lucerne schools. Languages? You lived in this apartment house long? Almost... yes. Ten years. The same concierge all that time? Oh, yes. Herr Weisser has been concierge here from the very beginning. The gunfire. It was Herr Weisser. Yeah. He's dead. No. Can you think of an motive? I know. I... Yes. Yes. Lately, he has acted... different. Fertile, almost. But that it should have come to this. The other tenants, Freiline, what can you tell me about them? Well, we say hello in passing, but that is all. Her beeper moved in about one year ago. That girl has only been here three months. You don't approve of Vanya Sabine? In my time, a girl had different standards. But I would not dream of accusing her. Uh-huh. Well, thanks, Freiline. Please, Mr. Thurston, may I ask a favor? Sure. Could you come to speak to my class? My pupils are so interested in America, I try to do everything I can to make them pals with this great nation of yours. Any time you could arrange it, even for half an hour. No, it'll be a privilege. Oh, thank you. Mr. Thurston, Mr. Thurston, he's sneaking out. Well, follow him, Pagon, and don't lose Shuckerman. And often that news sources force their way into my apartment. No, I don't imagine so. I trust you found plenty to read while you were waiting? Oh, nothing will throw any light on how a certain red messenger came by certain information. Or how a certain dead can see as he came by a certain postman. Well, you do gather news, don't you? Or do you make it? In this instance, I happen to run into your confrayer, Pagon Zelschmidt. What else did my confrayer tell you? That he had lost track of the elusive hair beaver. Uh-huh. Now, suppose we talk about you. Oh, yes. You would like me to account for my whereabouts. Especially around midnight. Well, just before midnight, my phone rang. Someone who called himself Mr. X. You've heard of him, of course. What did he have to say? That if I came immediately too early, he would give me... Uh, what is the term they use in America? A scoop? Did this Mr. X show up? No. I waited and waited and finally a door on my left. But you can't prove a word of it. Unfortunately. Oh, maybe that's your Mr. X again. You think so? Hello? He's right here. Hold on. Thanks. Hello, Confrere. Listen, Mr. Thurston. Where is he, Pager? This time, don't lose him. Give me time for a quick phone call and I'll be right over. What did you persecute me? Is it a crime to buy a ticket to Berlin? I suppose, Herr Bieber, you were rushing to Berlin to sell watches. And what else? Listen to that subversive. Well, this time we got the goods on you and I don't mean watches. Mr. Thurston. Inspector. A thousand pounds, Mr. Thurston. But I could not help the delay. Well, it will take over an hour. I'll be going. Where will you be if I should have to get in touch? The post office. Huh? What's with the post office? Letters, Pager. At least one in particular. About the post office, Mr. Thurston. A curious thing. Yeah? The reason for my delay. There has been a mysterious attack upon a postman. The postman assigned to number 60, Holbeinstrasse. How did you know? Tell me, Inspector, is he... Yeah. At the point of death. When they took him to the Vierfallstrasse hospital, he was unconscious. Hey, Mr. Thurston, wait for me. Not so fast, Mr. Thurston. I don't see what we're doing in this hospital anyway. As long as we got that alias Anton Beaver. Yeah, this is the room. Oh, nurse. Yeah? Oh, you are from the family of the dead men. Dead? When? Five, four minutes ago. Did he say anything before he died? Offer and offer. The same word he says. Oh, what word? I think, uh, palpin. Is there such a word? Palpin? What kind of a language is this? Sure, that's what he said, nurse. Yeah. To me, it sounds like palpin. Well, thanks anyway. Come on, Pagan. Palpin. Hmm? Of course! Why didn't I think of it before? Pagan, I've got it. Oh, have I? Yes, operator. I'm still waiting for that call to be put through. Well, I suppose you three are wondering what this is all about. Just so there's a story in it. Oh, I think I can promise you that, Barnyard. As for me, Mr. Thurston, I only wish that my pupils could be here with me. Oh, how excited they would be to listen in on a transatlantic telephone call. Maybe some other time for a while. Look at that alias Anton Bieber, Mr. Thurston. It's got nothing to say for a change. That's just as well. Okay. Go ahead with connectivity in New York. This, as you Americans say, had better be good. No, no, no, Vanya. Hello, Dr. Markov. Ken Thurston. Mr. Thurston, you have learned something? I'm always trying to learn. You are calling from Lucerne, Switzerland. Yes. Happened to know anyone in Lucerne? No. Sure? Positive. Thought you'd say that. What? Dr. Markov. Why do you ask? Is your daughter awake? When she heard that you... Put her on, please. Hello, Marilyn. There's... She's talking to you from Lucerne, Switzerland. Oh! Tell me, Marilyn, you know anyone there? Here? No. Living at number 60 Holbeinstrasse? And did you play a little game with this pen pal, a game in which you copied down things from the papers in your daddy's study? Better hang up now, Mr. X. Huh? Sorry, Marilyn, gotta hang up now. Your pen pal is pointing a luger at me. The nurse told me you were at the hospital, Mr. X. You were very clever to have realized that the postman was not saying pal pen, too bad I wasn't clever enough to get you before you got him and the concierge. That is because I am even more clever than you are. So clever, in fact, that I will live on to have other innocent pen pals from whom I will coax other secrets which will bring top prices in the espionage market. Try to follow me and I shoot. I'll be the same. Mr. Thurston, quick, before she gets away. Don't bother, Pager. I asked Inspector Fabriar to have his men waiting outside. You see, they are never clever enough. These people will pray on the innocent, the unthinking, the unsuspecting. And in the end, well, you just heard what happened to the Foylion. Just about make that praying. If you ask me, we're almost flying now. But, Mr. X, I still don't like letting that alias Anton Bieber off the hook. Not much choice. Can't prove anything on him. But he's a crook. The way he lied about who he is and the way he tried to run away, oh, what I wouldn't give if I could remember why I remember him. Oh, maybe it'll come to you. Hey, wait, I got it, I got it. I know why that lowlife would not admit who he was. Yes, I know now. Well, come on, who is he? He's one of my cousins. Oh, no. Our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall, is here. All over the country, people who have seen the new Ford 41951 are saying that it's the finest Ford ever produced. It's a car that's designed with the future in mind for Ford engineers of actually anticipated future trends to give you a car that will stay in style, that will deliver years of satisfaction. When you see it, you'll discover this 1951 Ford offers 43 look-ahead features. Luxury lounge interiors, for example, beautifully with body colors and interior trim. Automatic ride control that adjusts the ride to the road to give you a smooth level ride. The automatic mileage maker that enables you to enjoy maximum fuel economy. Your Ford dealer invites you to see this new quality car as soon as you can. You will agree, you can pay more, but you can't buy better than a 1951 Ford. Now, here again is our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall. Thank you for being with us. Next week, by request, we're repeating a story that proves that anything can happen at Christmas time, even to Mr. X, and of course, even to Leon Blascoe's Pagon Zeltschmidt. So join us, won't you, when next week I return as the man called X. Oh, and tune in half an hour earlier for dangerous assignment starring my friend Brian Donlevy. Both shows have been brought to you by RCA Victor, world leader in radio, first in recorded music, first in television. By Chesterfield, the owner's cigarette combines mildness with no unpleasant aftertaste. By the makers of Anacin for fast relief from pain of headache, neuritis and uralgia, and by your local Ford dealer, who is now displaying the new 1951 Ford, the car that's built for years ahead. Good night. The Man Called X is a J. Richard Kennedy production with music composed and conducted by Felix Mills. Tonight's story was written by Maurice Zim. All characters and incidents on this program are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual characters or incidents is purely coincidental. Be sure to listen tomorrow evening for The Big Show with Tallulah Bankhead and A Great Parade of Stars. The Sunday night feature of NBC's All Star Festival. And until next week, same time and station, this is Jack Latham saying good night for The Man Called X. Hear your hit parade and join Tallulah on The Big Show Sunday on NBC.