 How's that the coast with two murders behind me telling all to a nice white-haired old lady when the clock struck swells From the pen of layman-trandler outstanding author of crime fiction comes his most famous character in the adventures of Philip Marlowe Now with Gerald Moore starred at Philip Marlowe. We bring you tonight's exciting story the house that Jack will and built Take stock Stand back and give yourself the one so the do a reissue on that tired list of resolutions But for a private detective that routine only means tallying at the times you've dirtied your hands on someone else's murder Or dirty your brain with their schemes So you let the hide on your heart throw a little thicker pull the part of your mind that feels things a little farther back into a shell And maybe plan on later hunting up a cup of kindness or two someplace But even that has a price tag on it these days So there was work to do and a feeder collect before I could pick up the tab on an evening's fun Not a fair question. Would you sit down? Fantastic. I'm going crazy with this. I would pick a feat. What's the matter? What's going on the house? It's gone. It's vanished What how all the papers with a few years of research and months of grueling work in the jungles violence of preciousness all gone What's the way in the very heart of a teaming city an entire house now? Look if you just sit down and tell me who you are I was no object. I must have action. I must look it. Why are you? Professor Felix paper. What's all the talk about jungles and research of botanical research tropical herbs in South America? The years of it all for nothing out because the house has disappeared look you said that several times now look You've had experience. I would hire you now. I go to where a house should be a house in which I myself have stood And what do I find that they can light a hole in the ground and all I would Take it easy here. Come on over the couch and lie down It's all been such a shock The long trip to get out papers and then the find the house. Oh, I know now Look if you just lie there a few minutes until you feel better we'll start over a little closer to the beginning What's happened here well the data house has disappeared and the professors collapsed trying to tell me about it and I you oh Who are you I'm What are you a system where is Stephanie? Oh, I'm glad you got here. Yes, don't worry. Don't worry. Nothing. I'll be all right Let's not wait in what time you've got to find out what happened about house Piper don't excite yourself. Let me explain to the Marlowe Philip Marlowe. I'm Stephanie Fraser. Hello, please the house dive into the paper. All right, that's all right Mr. Marlowe, I presume he got as far as telling you that for over a year We've been in South America in the interior of the bill studying tropical earth. Yeah, part of that getting there somewhere I think you ever said of course it did tell me about the house step at a time. Hello, professor I've got something here. Do you the world of good me too? I think I'll try this take your time about it. I will have tomorrow. Could I speak to you? Of course, I'll be right back. Mr. Piper. Yes. Yes, it's a little Volatile isn't it? As I was saying Mr. Marlowe, we've been almost completely out of touch with civilization for over a year. Really you'd never know it Beauty policy for miracles Please let me tell you what happened. Okay Professor Piper's collaborator and partner in Maxwell-Styreson caught fever and died three weeks ago. Where was this? Brazil where the nuts come from? nothing Look, Mr. Marlowe, they'd worked together for years and all their notes and papers were kept stored at Siverton's place here at Los Angeles We came here to get that material and the house was gone Fantastic, isn't it? Certainly is We all thought Maxwell-Styreson's wife Kat and was living in it. She owned it in her name. Yeah Maxwell actually owned nothing. He didn't want to. He was gone all the time. It didn't sit too well with Catherine, huh? Right. She wanted Starveson to stay home and he always promised that someday he would and they'd live a happy life together But well, she was a young woman and patient, I guess. Yeah, where's she now? Well, one of the neighbors, an old woman, said she thought she remembered hearing that Catherine went to Nebraska. Nebraska? And that's all we know. Professor Piper and I are stumped. We came to you because we want action and want it fast. Will you help us? Well, the whole year's been scruy. There's no reason why this should bother me. No way residents through the metropolitan wilds of Los Angeles didn't sound so tough. So after Stephanie gave me the address, 8840, on Orange Drive and told me that she and the professor could be reached at Villa 3 in the Worship Garden. I got in my car and drove out on Orange Drive to where a house number 8840 should have been. I found that said house was moved out six months ago. They remember the night, too. But where, why, or who had done the job nobody knew. Until I got around to a Mrs. Elmer Leitrop, whose house backed the Stuyvesant place from across the alley. She blocked her front door with a waistline that said she'd never heard of Rye Crisp. Gave me an eye as warm and as sympathetic as a nice cube. Remember that, huh? I said, oh, to tell you, I remember. Craziest thing I ever saw. Them men working all day and all night, getting that little house up on rollers, now to there. I'd like to know what all the rush was about. So would I. You wouldn't happen to know where they took it, huh? No, I wouldn't. That Catherine Savison wasn't a very sociable type person. But if that's the way she wants to be, it's all right with me. That's good. Now, look, I don't suppose you'd know who she sold it to. Nope. What company did the moving? Oh, wouldn't I, though? It's the Gilligan, Reckon and Moobin Company and believe you, me, the name fits. Them clumsy oxes. In such a rush, they backed a big crock over my pomegranate tree. A beautiful, full-grown tree in the pink of health. Did I make them pay? I'll bet. Now, you'll listen. Have I had choice? I tracked that outfit down and made them shell out through the nose for that. Was I burned? Well, bully for you. Now, look, where is the Gilligan outfit's office, Mrs. Lathrop? Van Adams and Rampart Street. Four-ten Rampart. Four-ten, huh? But say, what's going on, anyway? Why, you're asking me all these questions. Well, frankly, I'm a pomegranate fancy in myself, Mrs. Lathrop. Happy New Year. You want something? Yeah, this is four-ten Rampart, isn't it? That's correct. I just signed outside. It says, Blukeman's novelies. Are you one of them? Ashtray, paperweight sponsors, silver pages. OK, honey, OK. Now, look, I'm looking for the Gilligan wrecking and moving company. I was told they had this place six months ago. That's right. But they're out of business now. They won't win broke like September. Lots of time in a hurry. How do you like that? Not much. Mr. Gilligan, old everybody waiters, including my boyfriend. He used to work for Mr. Gilligan. That's how we met that. That? They were moving out as we moved in. The small world, huh? Getting smaller all the time. Now, look, I'd like to talk to your boyfriend, Mr.... Bessie. Bessie? Well, um, that lives real close to here. The big man room. Oh, thanks, Bessie. What's that glass name? Battenschlag. Who? Battenschlag. Yeah, anybody'd know that. Well, you'd better just call him Bat. All right. And, um, tell him to drop around, will you? I wish I was a tender apple, the latter, may I? Or send me five. I wonder who wrote those lyrics. Name's Marlowe. I want some dope on a job the Gilligan company did, Bat. All right, that's the minute. What'd you get to me? Bessie. By the way, she's up to you to drop her on. Oh, yeah? Um, Dame, don't I every night? Come on in, buddy. Excuse the road, by the way, I was in the shower. Sure, sure. Now, look, Bat, were you working for Gilligan six months ago? Yeah. Yeah? Oh, why? You remember moving a house, 8840 Orange Drive? 8840 Orange Drive. Yeah, I've seen that. Oh, yeah, that went too well. That was as screwy as deal I ever saw. Where'd you move it to, do you remember? All the way to San Pedro. Big hurry up, John. The boss kept saying we were racing the weather. Nobody could figure it. Racing the weather? Why? It beats me when you set the house off down at the end of Front Street in the Harbor Salvage Company yard. Harbor Salvage in San Pedro, yeah? Tell me, Bat, was the house empty? Well, certainly. You don't think the... No, no, no, Bat, I mean the furniture. Oh, oh, why? What's all the fuss? Well, some people are interested in locating that house. Oh, yeah. Oh, that's too bad. How come? Oh, I got a big hunch it didn't sit very long where we left it, buddy. The Pacific Ocean was only six inches from the back door. I'm beating eyes, mate. What's on your mind? Well, if you're the head man of Harbor Salvage Company, a house is on my mind. That's me, but I don't want any more house jobs. I did one this year, and that's plenty. Six months ago, house delivered by Gilligan? That's it, mate, and I did the masterpiece, but I do say so myself. Sure wouldn't chance it again, no two-shifty. Never mind your career. What happened to that house? What happened? Well, I loaded it on that old woman's barge. What old woman? As I was saying, I loaded it on that old woman's barge, battended down the ship cape in the last two days, good sailing weather, and sent her out to sea. You mean that house left here on a barge? Ah, that it did, mate. Bound for the Golden Gate in the upper arm of San Francisco Bay. Oh, fire. There's shrimp fish in town in the backwater there called Wilson. For our memory, right, it's on San Pablo Bay, about 15 miles north of Brooklyn. Ah, now do you mind telling me who the old woman was who owned that barge, Niaz? Not a bit. Kind of old soul, she wasn't the name of Jacqueline Beatty. Went aboard with the house and waved goodbyes in the front door, she pulled out. All smiles, too. Smatter, son. You look like a deckhand who's lost his sea legs. What it thought at three short hours, it goes a check-up on an LA resident to devolve itself into a chase up the coast for a houseboat, which was a project I distinctly did not want to jump into without first a nod to my client. In fact, I was ready to scuttle a whole business. So I found a phone and called Villa 3 at the Worship Garden. Is that you, Matthews? Yes. This is Marlowe. Oh, hi, Phil. What can I do for you but make it snappy? Well, yeah, I'm up to my years of work. You called up, you're expecting someone else to answer, didn't you? Who? A guy named Felix Piper, maybe. Nice bit. What's the connection? Client, what bit? Ex-client, Marlowe, he's it. Somebody hacked him. Yeah, with a knife, a very fancy knife like some Indians in Brazil use, the boy is telling me. Oh. You better drop in here. Where are you now? Uh, San Pedro. What are you doing down there? Yeah, well, you wouldn't believe it, Matthews. Really, you wouldn't. Get all that dough off now. Okay. Oh, hello, Marlowe. Hi, Matthews. Any progress? Uh, too soon. Anyway, I'm counting on you for that. Come on inside, have a look. Okay. When did it happen? A couple hours ago. What was his dodge, anyway? We found a club membership card, lists him as a botanist. True? Yeah, as far as I know. Spent a lot of time in research in Brazil. Where did nuts come from? Nothing. Oh. Well, there's your client, Phil. Professor Felix Piper and somebody nailed him right between the shoulders. Hey, Matthews. Hmm? Something's awful he wear. What do you mean? That's not the man who hired me. In just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlowe. But first, one fellow who made a New Year's resolution years ago, not to get married, certainly saw it blow up with a bang a couple of weeks ago. Philip, by the name of Andy, of Amos and Andy, opened his mouth at the wrong moment and there he was, married to the wrong woman. Listen for Amos and Andy and Andy's bride on most of these same CBS stations tomorrow night. Now, with our star, Gerald Moore, we return to the second act of Philip Marlowe. And tonight's story, the house that Jack Willen built. Lieutenant Matthews, as the crumpled form at our feet, identified as Felix Piper. And the Felix Piper who had hired me were not one and the same. He arched a single eyebrow slowly. And I told him the rest of the story, both eyebrows practically leaked from his forehead. So all in all, it was 30 minutes of steady gab, my solemn word that what I had said was nothing but the truth. And a blunt reminder that a private detective's license was revocable before I was free to go back to my apartment on Franklin while the police went to work. That made it exactly four p.m. One key in hand, I reached my front door locked just as it swung in and away from me. Come in, Mr. Marlowe. Well, the globe trotting's Tiffany. How'd my place get to get on your map, baby? Please, don't joke, come in. Thank you. Lovely apartment you've got here. Mr. Marlowe, please, this is no time to be funny. Why not? If anything else plays funny, you've lost LA, your house turns up floating on the outskirts of San Francisco. A screwball botanist from South America who's maybe also a killer, wants a bunch of hocus pocus paper. Also a killer? What do you mean, Mr. Marlowe? Felix Piper didn't kill Corday. Corday? That's his name, huh? You get around, don't you, Corday? Yes, Martin Corday. He was on the floor of my villa when I got back. That's why I came here. The janitor let me in. Yeah, yeah, let's not change the subject. Ms. Corday, who is he? Or was he? Skeaming ruthless man when you were in South America. An imposter. An importer wants a botanist's paper. Come on, baby, tell me the truth. Mr. Marlowe, there are no papers. Oh, that's great. You mean that all this about the house is phony, make-for-ease? No, no, no, it's true. But? But no papers. Only jewels. Only jewellery. Oh, no. Rubies, Mr. Marlowe. In a little pouch. $30,000 worth hidden in the house. Where in the house? The fireplace. It's behind a brick somewhere on the right-hand side. You see, those rubies belong to Felix and that Maxwell status in our mansion. Now they belong to Felix alone. They were for their old age. The expressions they say. So they could carry on their work. You don't believe me? No, not quite, no, no. For two very valid reasons. One, why'd you lie in the first place and say it was papers? Because we didn't know if we could trust you. And now with a man dead, you have to, is that it? No, I don't have to, but I do trust you, Mr. Marlowe. You may not be mutual, Stephanie. What do you mean? Well, if I buy all this, the jewels, Piper and Stuyvesant's unique retirement plan, Corday posing as Piper to some way cut in as a new hooker. Which is what? Corday is murderous. It should now be you or Felix Piper. No. Then who? Corday's partner. Sure, they look like little men. I don't know who they are. I last saw him at Corday in South America. You see, the original plan was that I come up here ahead of Felix. But he was too anxious. He couldn't wait. He followed almost at once. So? So somehow or other, Corday and this swarthy man found out about our plan. Decided that Corday should pose as Felix and ask for their scheme. And what? Well, that must have been a double cross. Corday probably trying to do away with this swarthy man, but getting done away with himself instead. Where's Felix Piper now? Second grade hotel on Santa Monica. Phone number there, do you know it? Yes, I have it right here in my room. All right. Press view 8 something. It's here. Press view 8, 4, 1, 4, 4. 4, 1, 4, 4. OK, here you talk to them. Stephanie, my nerves won't take the chatter. What should I tell them? Mr. Felix Piper, please. Now tell them for the time being we're going to skip the police. But you and I are going up to San Francisco on the next plane and then out to a place called Wilson to look for a houseboat. No less rubies. Yeah, also tell them to meet us up there at the Crystal Auto Court. Got that. It's a place I've stayed at a little beyond Berkeley. On the road to San Pablo Bay. All right. Oh, it's in here, Felix. One moment. Yeah, yeah. Tell them to take clear of swarthy men tonight. Especially small ones. They're dangerous. Later, when Stephanie and I drove into the quiet fishing village of Wilson on San Pablo Bay, they had to bend to the sloping shoreline like was afraid of crawling in. The best information would be the local gas and quarry. I drove my rented car in at a round-shouldered one pump station. Something freckled and gangling with a shock of flame for hair, pulled himself out of a fin. Arms and legs working independently wobbled over, braced himself against the car. Gas or just information, folks. Don't be ashamed, everybody, if my town gets lost in Wilson. It's so big. Made a funny. Look, if that's the case, we're long up right away, Red. We're looking for a houseboat. Yes. Well, then you better try the water. This boy killed himself, didn't he? Look, Red, we're in a hurry. This houseboat belonged to a lady named Jacqueline Beatty. No more jokes, huh? Yeah, don't worry. There's nothing funny about that. Screw you with us. Believe me, she's sad. Sad? Why? Well, about six months ago, she took ever since she had, went down to LA, bought a house, and bought a barge, and put them both together, and come back here. To do what? To sit. To do nothing. All day and all night long, she never leaves. You know why? Nope. Neither does nobody else, except that her husband was an artist, painted sea picture, so she liked it around the water. But she's nuts, I tell you. Act like the place is, well, act like it's made it go. Go. Now look, Red, tell me, how do I get there? We report a smelly doing a story on her place. Oh, newspaper people, huh? Yeah, reporters usually are boys. Well, that's different. Smart, huh? It's one block straight ahead, then right, and down to the bay. Thanks, Red. Happy New Year. Yeah, go ahead. I went ahead in free writing. We're down a weather town in the bay. We've circled up to meet one another, we saw it. A white free room cottage of clothes surrounded by fishing boats and assorted lodges. The front door opened at our knot. Our tug boat, Annie, nor the scraggly pioneer woman rifle-cradled in bony arms. Does anybody's grandmother under a white lace shawl at that? Yes, sir. Can I help you? Well, yeah, I believe so. You're Mrs. Beattie, huh? That's right. Mrs. Jacqueline Beattie. Oh, well, I'm Philip Marlowe. Mrs. Beattie, this is Ms. Stephanie Frazier. How do you do? We're reporters in my lay. Reporters? We were going through Wilton here when we heard about your houseboat and how you brought it all the way up from Los Angeles. You had a particular reason for wanting this house, Mrs. Beattie? Oh, my, yes. What was that? Well, that's a long, long story, my boy. I see. Well, tell me, Mrs. Beattie, the house is exactly as it was in Los Angeles, huh? Oh, to which he, Mr. Marlowe, would you like this? Oh, yes, we'd love to. Fine. Then should we say lunch tomorrow? Well, Mrs. Beattie, we're on our way back to Los Angeles now at night. Oh, that's so great. Yeah. But will you see, I simply have to tidy up some of the four companies, perhaps another time. Well, I think lunch tomorrow will be splendid, Mrs. Beattie. Of course. Good, good. Then until midday tomorrow, we'll have a buffet for the three of us in front of the fireplace. Good night, Mrs. Beattie. Good night, Mr. Marlowe. Good night, Mrs. Beattie. Well, is it just a sweet old lady? I don't know. But when will we? I'll worry about midday tomorrow. Well, let's get back to the crystal auto car to your boss. The Alex Piper out and alone is a combination that worries me plenty. But he should any minute now. He called a half hour ago from someplace in Berkeley and said he was coming out here in a taxi. Well, now let's see a single cabin for Mrs. Fraser here, number six, and a double, number 11 for you and Mr. Piper. Right, Mr. Marlowe? Yes, that's right, Mr. Crystal. OK, now, Mrs. Fraser, if you'll come along with me, I'll show you the way. Be back in a minute, Mr. Marlowe. I'll just tidy up, Phil, and I'll come back here and wait with you for a few minutes. I'm so worried. Yeah, I know. He'll be all right once he's with us. I hope so, Phil. Oh, Mr. Crystal, can I call LA on this phone here? Sure, Mr. Marlowe. Long distance is 1-1-0. Operator, I want to call a Los Angeles person to prison here. Party I want is Detective Lieutenant... What? Delay. Oh, yeah, New Year's Eve. Well, look, honey, I'd like to put the call through anyway. No! Wait, Mr. Marlowe, did he kill her? He was a man. Get hold of myself, Mr. Crystal. What do you look like? Give me a hug. Take it easy, fellow. Hold on tight. Did you see him? Was he small, swarthy? I'm not sure, Mr. Marlowe. Oh, thank you, Mr. Crystal. Thank you. What do you look like? He was kind of short and maybe swarthy. It was all so fast, I couldn't tell. All right, all right. Come on, come on away from it. We'll go back to your office. Now listen to me carefully. You phone the police. I'm going to a houseboat on the San Pablo Bay where I think we'll find a small, swarthy man. We'll push a nice old lady around without batting an eye. But why? About $30,000 bucks worth of rubies. I never had told him what had happened to Stephanie. And brought him up to date on everything else. I slammed my right foot down hard on the accelerator and kept it that way until we were back at San Pablo Bay out of the car and running toward Jacqueline Beatty's houseboat. But I figured the swarthy man was going to know every move might show. But there I was wrong, because Jacqueline was all alone, safe and sound, and surprised. Why? Why, Mr. Marlowe, you weren't expected to midday tomorrow. And that girl, isn't she? She won't be with a hammer frame, Mrs. Beatty. By the way, we're not reporters, Mrs. Beatty. The lady in question is dead. And so is another man. All because of $30,000 bucks worth of rubies and a pouch that's behind one of the bricks in that fireplace. Yes, yes, and I'm going to find them right away. They've got to be here. And this poker should sound them out in a hurry, yes. What's that? Mrs. Beatty, we've been too long. The news of these rubies doesn't seem to surprise you, right? Hey. What is this, Mr. Marlowe? A hunch, Mrs. Beatty. Get out of the way. A gun. Yeah. We're a man named Corday. As in Martin Corday, and it looks like I was right. Yes, yes, but it may not do you any good. Is he going to die? Not until the state gets its hands on him. You see, Mrs. Beatty, he's killed twice tonight, right, Corday? Come on, if you want an ambulance talk. Yeah, they had it coming all of them. Stuyvesant was double-crossed by Piper and his death man. Stuyvesant wanted the rubies to go to his wife. Captain, fly. Hold it, Mrs. Beatty, go on, Corday. The real Piper was a crook, huh? Decided to get the jewels himself, is that it? Yes, but he was also dumb. Stephanie, your secretary, crossed him for a pretty deal with me. He was all her idea. I'm going to you for help with me posing as Piper. Go on. Oh, Mr. Marlowe. Go on, Corday. Yes, but Stephanie decided to double-cross me. Yeah, but you stabbed the real Piper because he got up to LA in your villa as soon as I'm expected, huh? Yes, yes, but she couldn't cross me. I was following her all the time. She didn't phone you from my place? No, no, no, no, no, no, I was outside your door, then. And she was talking to her numbers. She made up, and you're lucky you handed her the phone when you did. If you hadn't, she would have shot you. It was all lies, it was lies. The swore of the man included. There isn't one. Oh, oh, oh, Mr. Marlowe, he, he. That's unconscious, Mrs. Beatty. I'll get an ambulance. Yes, yes, Corday. I'll show you where the phone is. Yeah, after you tell me about the jewels, huh? The rubies, Mrs. Beatty, your lack of surprise about them being hidden in the fireplace, I mean. How come? Well, I found those six months ago when I bought this house from Catherine Stavison in Los Angeles. Quite the way, Mr. Marlowe. How did you know that man was Corday? Fireplace, honey. You went to the wrong side. It was worth a shot in the dark. Wait, it won't go to the air. You know, I noticed the loose bits on the right hand side of the fireplace the moment I walked in. You see, I built this house with my own hands. Really? Why'd you move it up here, honey? Because my husband and I spent our honeymoon in this house. And we found our happiness here at San Pablo. Oh, you also found the rubies and sent them back to Catherine Stavison? Yes, from over here, Mr. Marlowe. Happy New Year, Jacqueline. Why did Jacqueline then walk outside? The first sun of 1950 was glinting across the waters of the bay. 1950, another chance for Marlowe and for the world. I hope we both do better with it this year. The adventures of Philip Marlowe, bringing you Raymond Chandler's most famous character, star Gerald Moore, are produced and directed by Norman McDonnell and are written for radio by Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt. Feature in the cast were Lois Corbett, Howard McNair, Georgia Ellis, John Boehner, and Parley Baer. Detective Lieutenant Matthews is played by Larry Dobkin. The special music is composed and conducted by Richard Orant. Be sure to be with us again next week when Philip Marlowe says. This time each carried a torch, and each was burned by it. The heel, the hero worshiper, and the hard-bitten blonde. And all because of a woman already two days dead.