 For the safety of your smile, use pepsidon twice a day, see your dentist twice a year. Leverbrothers Company presents the pepsidon program. The adventures of Philip Marlowe starring Van Heflin. Philip Marlowe, the screened most famous private detective created by Raymond Chandler, brought to you on the air by pepsidon and starring MGM's brilliant and dynamic young actor Van Heflin. All families all over America have named their favorite toothpaste. New pepsidon with earium. New fresh tasting pepsidon with a new cool netty flavor. Yes, in a recent test, new pepsidon was preferred three to one over any other toothpaste. It's true. With families all over America, new pepsidon is a favorite three to one. Families from coast to coast recently compared new pepsidon with a toothpaste they were using at home. They preferred new pepsidon by an overwhelming average of three to one over any other brand they tried. These families, three to one, said new pepsidon tastes better, makes breath cleaner, makes teeth brighter. Yes, in a recent survey, families three to one said new pepsidon tastes better, makes breath cleaner, makes teeth brighter. Yes, new pepsidon toothpaste for your family right away. Now the adventures of Philip Marlowe, starring Van Heflin. The moment old man Jeter came into my office, I made up my mind not to vote for him if he ever ran for president. He was tall and thin with straight compressed white lips. He wore a neat pinstripe flannel suit with a small rosebud in the lapel. He carried an ebony cane and he wore spats. He looked as smart as 60 and unless he's got nasty, I gave him another 15 years, which was pretty big of me. He sat down, speared me with those barbed gray eyes and came right down to business. Mr. Philip Marlowe, I believe. That's right. My name is Walsworth Jeter. How do you do, Mr. Jeter? You're a private detective? Well, why not? Frankly, sir, I'd expected the Hollywood detective's office to be somewhat more glamorous or rather more elegant, shall we say? No, fellow Vance has a branch office here on the fourth floor if you're shopping around here. No, no, no. You'll do, I'm sure. My rate is 25 bucks a day, plus expenses. Money is no object, except when you don't have much of it. That seems to be the motivating philosophy where Miss Harriet Huntress is concerned. Who or whom is Miss Harriet Huntress? A rather standard, rather obvious gold digger who wishes to marry Grover. You want to tell me who Grover is? Grover is my adopted stepson, my late wife's son. Next year he will inherit a million dollars left him by his mother. Which explains Miss Huntress' interest in Grover. Precisely. Well, Mr. Jeter, am I being hired to smear Miss Harriet Huntress? Not at all. Nearly to disillusioned Grover about her. Well, that's the same thing. I think you'd better find yourself another boy. Wait, wait. There's more. Okay, let's hear it. Do you know a man named Marty Estelle? Sure, he's a big-time gambler out on Sensex Strip. Why? Mr. Estelle claims my son Grover owes him $50,000. Well, then Grover'd better pay up if I know Marty Estelle. But suppose my son doesn't really owe Estelle the money? Does he or doesn't he? Mr. Estelle supplied photostat copies of Grover's notes with Grover's signatures. I thought they might be forged, so without Grover's knowledge, I took them to a handwriting expert named John Arbogast, a sort of detective. No. He's not sure. He wants more time. I'd like you to take over the case. Harriet Huntress and all. Miss Huntress, as you may know, is associated with Mr. Estelle. Well, that's incidental. I'll handle the forgery case and not the slander job. Now, where does this Arbogast have his office? Son, son, set me a river. Okay, I'll look it up. Miss Huntress, she lives at the El Milano on North Sycamore. I'll look her up, too. Arbogast and Huntress in the order named. There was no snooty secretary to prevent me from walking right into John D. Arbogast's extremely fat presence on sunset near Ivar. He was an enormously fleshy gent with a thick neck that was in fools like a concertina. He wore a wrinkled dark suit that needed cleaning and some reweaving where it had some small holes in it. Arbogast just sat and stared at me with the whites of his eyes because those three holes that needed reweaving were bullet holes. And John D. Arbogast was dead, very recently dead. I left in a hurry and as far as I could tell nobody saw me come, nobody saw me go. My next stop was the Swank El Milano Hotel on North Sycamore. Just a second, mister. Something you want? Yeah, yeah, who are you? I'm the house detective. Well, I'm looking for a Miss Harriet Huntress. Miss Huntress ain't seeing anyone. You can tell her it's Marty Estelle. Are you Marty Estelle? I'm from him. That's different, ain't it? That's none of your business, is it? Whatever you're up to, you're not playing it very smooth. Well, some days I feel like playing it smooth, some days I feel like playing it like a waffle iron. Well, if you must know I'm one of the boys. Philip Marlowe, Private Eye. Yeah, that's my card. Well, that's another story. I'll phone up to Miss Huntress. Yeah, say I'm from Marty Estelle, and that make it convincing, huh? How much convincing? Oh, well how much do those cigars your smoking cost you? $22.50, box of it. That much convincing? Well, that's cute. You and me are going to get along. I'll phone Miss Huntress, but you go right on up. Room 814. I just know it'll be all right. Harriet Huntress was too tall to be cute, too beautiful to be really cheap. Her green eyes were wide-set and there was plenty of thinking room between them. Her hair was a dusty red, like fire seemed to a haze. Her green eyes were that much green ice as she sized me up in the doorway. Well, what's the big message, Sonny? That could come in. I never could speak very well in public. Come in. Never could speak very well on a dry throat either. There's a scotch. Help yourself. Thank you. So you're from Marty himself? No, not strictly not even loosely. Not at all, in fact. What's your racket? No racket. Marty loves to know you used his name. I'm shaking you in my shoes. You're some kind of detective, aren't you? Yeah. Pardon. Philip Marlowe. It's good to catch you. I'm glad you like it. Now, what's your business? All right. How much will you take to give up Grover? You look smart, but you talk stupid. Oh, man, Jeter's pretty tough. His idea is that you get nothing. You get smid. I don't see it that way. How much? How about $50,000? How about $500? How about talking about the effect of the rain on the rhubarb? Now, look, sister, suppose we skip the footwork considering the sobering fact that a man named John D. Obigast has already been murdered in this little case. Does that have anything to do with me? I don't know. He was hired to analyze some notes Grover gave Marty Estelle. He just killed just after I took over the case. Do you think Marty Estelle works that way? You know him better than I do, does he? Have you told the police yet? No, I thought I'd see if I could make a deal with you first. I'm going to tell you something. My people were nice people who never got involved and murdered. Old Jeter ruined my father. My dad shot himself and my mother died of the shock. I'm going to fix Jeter for that someday. Even if I have to marry his son to do it. And after Stepson really has no relation at all. You'll hurt Jeter just as hard. And the kid will have a million dollars next year. I could do worse, even if he does bring too much. You wouldn't want Grover to hear that now, would you? No. Turn around and have a look, gum shoe. I turned fast and he stood about four feet from me. Big, blonde, powerful, whiskey in his brain and blood in his eyes. I can say anything I want around Grover, it's all right with him. Isn't it Grover? That's right, Harry. He's trying to break us up, Grover. What do you think of that? Maybe I better break him up. That's what I think good. She laughed and that made me mad. I turned the cow at her. It was a dirty look. It was the look of the month. That was the mistake. The big guy hit me. I went over sideways. It wasn't a hard punch, but my head hit a desk. Going down on the desk got the decision. It gets dark fast in Southern California, but seldom that fast. When I came out of at Grover, the lawn sucker puncher and Harriet Huntress were gone. But the bottle of scotch was still there, so I took that for souvenir and stuffed it in my pocket and floated down the elevator into the street. It was dark by the time I got back to my apartment on Hobart Avenue in Hollywood. I turned on the light and there stood a big guy, another big guy. This was National Big Guy Week. This one had a big nose, the dead color of wax, and he had a .22 caliber of Colt Woodsman pointed straight at me. Close the door and reach. Come on. I turned a little to close the door. I got my hand under my coat. Then I turned back to wax nose fast. I had my lager out. We stood there facing each other. Wax nose didn't seem at all impressed with my automatic. I just came to tell you to be smart. You're looking at a lager, mister. I know. Men of distinction carry lagers. Me, I pack this small, boy, because I can shoot. If you think you can take me, go to it. Oh, look, what's the game? Maybe you can take a hint and maybe you can. Maybe, maybe not. What is it? Lay off old cheaters, boy. Well, I wouldn't think of contradicting anyone who uses that Colt Woodsman .22 with the front sight file. Love must think he's pretty good. I am good. Yeah, and that's why I say OK, pal. We'll see. Speaking of .22, do you know anybody named John Arbogast? I meet such a lot of people. Well, this one was fat and shot three times with a .22. I don't remember shooting no fat guys today. So long, Chum. Remember what I told you. Lay off, Grover. So long, Chum. Yeah. Well. Ah, shut up. Yeah. Mr. Marlowe? Oh, Mr. Jeter. Well, your son or your adopted son or your stepson or whatever he is, poked me in the jaw today. He is both my stepson and my adopted son. Well, both of them poked me in the jaw. My word, where? In Miss Huntress's apartment. You spoke to her? What did she say? She wants 50 grand and no dice. 500. This is a gag. Just as a gag? Mr. Marlowe, perhaps you underestimate the importance of this message. Listen, Mr. Jeter, there are some very unusual angles to this case. For example, a gunman just stuck me up in my own apartment and told me to stay off of this case. What? I don't see why this case should get so tough. Good heavens. Listen, Mr. Marlowe, my chauffeur, Waldo, will pick you up in my limousine. I want to talk to you. All right. Well, tell Waldo to park on Hobart facing Franklin. He'll be around for you in 20 minutes. Good. Just give me time to drink my dinner. Bye-bye. I sat next to Waldo, the chauffeur, as he tooled the big Jeter limousine through Hollywood. Along the glitter of the sunset strip, out past Beverly Hills toward Bel Air. At Cabello Drive, we swung left for a couple of hundred yards and left again, aiming for a driveway flanked by 12-foot wrought-iron gates. Then something happened. Someone was standing in the glare of our headlights. Waldo swore and slammed on the brake shelf. You stupid gold, get out of the driveway! Man stepped toward it. In the next minute, there was that same colt-22 staring to my face again. All right, this is a heist. Get out of the car, both of you. Look, Waxknows, haven't you had enough fun for one night, fuzz off, bum? Shut up and get out. I have to think some more on that, Buster. I'm warning you. I'll let you have it. Don't be a gold, you're gold. All right, you ass-ported. Hey! Oh, you shot the guy. Yeah, I shot him. It was this. All in fun. Yeah, some fun. It did the work. That is Jeter's house is right ahead. You sound as if you just shot a nickel and a pinball machine instead of a man. Now listen, turn off those lights and let's get out of here, but fast! You are listening to the Adventures of Philip Marlowe starring Van Heflin. Yes, family, it's all over America. I have named their favorite toothpaste. New pepsidon with invigorating earlium foam. New fresh-tasting pepsidon with a new cool minty flavor. In a recent test, new pepsidon was preferred three-to-one over any other toothpaste. It's true. Families all over America say new pepsidon is their favorite three-to-one. The William Kilpatrick family, 212 South Missouri, Claremont, Oklahoma, preferred new pepsidon on every single count. The Kilpatrick's say, new pepsidon taste best of all, makes breath cleaner, makes teeth brighter. On all these counts, by an overwhelming average of three-to-one, families prefer new pepsidon over any other toothpaste they tried. It's a fact. Families three-to-one say new pepsidon taste better, makes breath cleaner, and makes teeth brighter. Remember, this is not just our opinion. It's the honest conviction of the Kilpatrick's and other families who are asked to compare new pepsidon with the toothpaste they were using at home. Get new pepsidon, the only toothpaste containing earium. Get it for your family without delay. We continue with the adventures of Philip Marlowe, starring Van Heflin, who affairs by arrangement with Metro Golden Mare, producers of the romance of Rosie Ridge, starring Van Johnson. Walter and I drove back to my apartment again, leaving waxnose lying dead in the Jeter driveway. We went back to my place to start all over again, over what was left of my perlouin scotch. Yeah, it's a good scotch you've got here, Marlowe. Pinch bottom. Not this, sure. Pinched it from the apartment of Harriet Huntress. Well, bottoms up. Well, though, do you think that gunman was there to scare young Grover into realizing Marty's tell-me-s-business? Could be. I always drove Grover home around that time. I think it doesn't sound like Marty is still to pick that sort of a helper. Well, sure. Maybe that's why he picked him. Because it didn't seem like Marty is still. Yeah, that's good thinking, Walter. Dartmouth, 37. Rah, rah, rah. That would be either the cops or Mr. Jeter. Hello? Mr. Marlowe? Yes, Mr. Jeter. And the reason we're not in your study now is lying outside of your front gate. What's that you're saying? Somebody jumped us outside of your gate and Walter shot him dead. Good Lord. Yeah. Listen, Marlowe, come here at once. Do you hear that once? I'll send Waldo, Mr. Jeter. I want to see you, you. Waldo will tell you all about it, Mr. Jeter. Marlowe. Good night, Mr. Jeter. After Walter the chauffeur had left, I went back to the El Milano Hotel. Hawkins, the house stick, was all smiles and open palms. I placed no confidence in his smile and $20 bill in his palm. Are you at Hunter's again? Yeah, what's the matter? Just take me up to her apartment. That's all, huh? Yeah, sure. Right this way, fella. Hawkins took me to the eighth floor, room 814 and opened the door. There was someone in the room waiting. Here's company for you, Mr. Estelle. Beat it, Hawkins. Yeah, this is the guy who was telling you about Mr. Estelle. Come in earlier today. He said he was familiar. Oh, sure, sure. Come on in, Marlowe. I came to see Miss Hunter. It's not you, Estelle. Well, first of all, Harry, it's not home. I came to tell her what happened outside of Jeter's game. So you keep informed. I can't wait for any longer. Gotta get back to the casino. Well, then, what did you come back for, Marlowe? I'm looking for the Jeter boy. After what happened during the night, he needs somebody to walk behind him. You think I'd play games like that? All I know is we were shot at. I asked you a question. I answered it to the best of my knowledge. What knowledge, for example? Well, for example, you hold $50,000 worth of Grover's notes for gambling debts. I've got $50,000 invested in that kid. Would I be likely to bump him off? Ah, that makes sense, all right. I always make sense. I'm bullied for you. When I have 50 grand invested in a guy, I'm up to find out all about him. Like about old Jeter hiring a man named Arbogast to work for him. Arbogast was shot today. You know it. I know because I had you followed. You didn't tell the law, Marlowe. That could be very hard on you. Well, it could. Does that make you and me friends? A little blackmailer? Not much. We'll call it a tattletail grail mail. Now, when do you stop bothering Miss Huntress? Hey, you win, Marty. Well, that's all. I've got to go. Well, I'll just wait around for bed, OK? Well, Harriet Scott is in that cabinet, then. Thanks. I'll roll up my pants and go waiting in it. You know, Marlowe, I like you. You're cute. It's a long shot, but... Marty Estelle was right. He wouldn't kill anybody who owed him money and was soon to come into a lot of it. Now, I was in bed with the police for not reporting Arvigas' murder. Well, I looked around Harriet's apartment vaguely, walked into the bedroom, and stopped. Because mixed with the fragrance of good perfume and good cosmetics was the plain, ordinary, home-spun odor of gunpowder. I walked across the room and yanked open the closet door and stepped back. They're just as big as life, but as dead as they ever come was young Grover Jeter. And at Grover's feet, among the graceful shoes in Harriet's closet was a tiny pearl-handled automatic. I felt bad about that. Because I guessed that the dainty holes and bullets from that dainty gun would fit the two dainty holes over Grover's heart. I put the neat little pistol in my pocket. I thought old man Jeter ought to know about his son. I didn't expect to find Waldo the chauffeur and Harriet Hunter's with old Jeter in Jeter's big study, but there they were. I missed him, Marlowe. And I've given up hoping to see you tonight. Well, I changed my mind about coming out again, Mr. Jeter. Uh-oh, Waldo. Hi, Marlowe. Didn't expect to see you here, Miss Hunter. Didn't you? Did you expect to see me here? Never mind that, Marlowe. I want to know where my son is. What do you mean, Mr. Jeter? He's missing. That's what I mean. Oh. He's missing and no one knows where he is. I know. What's that? Where, Marlowe? Miss Huntress, where did you and Grover go after Grover took that sucker punch at me in your apartment? We went out together in a taxi. During the ride, I had a change of heart. I didn't want Grover or Grover's money. I told Grover to find another playmate, and I got out in Beverly Hills. Grover went on in the taxi. Where did you go? Back to my apartment. Later, I got out my car to come down here to Jeter. I decided to forget the whole thing. For him to call off his dime novel sleuth. A dime will no longer buy a novel of any description, but that is beside the point. You said you knew where Grover is. That's not beside the point, is it, Mr. Marlowe? He's back in Harriet's apartment. Why didn't let him in? How on earth could he be? Hawkins, you're out. Detective, let him in. The last I saw of Grover, he's dead. Oh, what? What's that? Dead. Dead, shot with a small caliber gun. I can't believe it. I can't. It's... Grover's dead? Ms. Huntress, this 25 caliber pistol was on the floor, Grover's feet. Can you take it? Look it over, will you? Mine. You're murderous. You... Enough. You cold-blooded murderer. Oh, stop that! Stop it, both of you. It could have been suicide. Suicide? Well, yes. That's a possibility, of course. I see you like that idea, Jeter. But it wasn't suicide. Then she did it. The murderous, the scheming contempt of her. It was murder, and it's fairly obvious who did it, Jeter. Eh? Maria Stell is my guess. Well, guess again, Waldo. Stell had $50,000 invested in Grover. He wouldn't kill a golden goose like that. And Waxnode didn't do it because he was dead thanks to Waldo here. That leaves her. She did it. There had to be a motive and an opportunity. Well, it was her apartment, after all. Correct, Waldo. But Grover was Jeter's adopted stepson. Oh, like a real son he was to me. A real son. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But did you lovely people know that in the state of California, a man can inherit from an adopted son who has money and who gets dead? Did you know that, Mr. Jeter? Why, what do you mean? You're inheriting Grover's million dollars would be a motive for killing him, wouldn't it? Mr. Marlowe. That was the motive, Jeter. And it was Waldo's job to find the opportunity to murder Grover for you. All right, Marlowe. That'll be all for you. Well, Waldo, the darkness gun fanner. Drop that gun, Waldo. Shut up. I said drop it. Hey, that's nice shooting, eh? My hand, my hand. Well, Papa, we'll put a little band-aid on for you, Waldo. Waldo, you could have gotten to my apartment wearing that chauffeur's uniform. You could have gone into the garage entrance and up the back way. Sure. When Grover let him in, he backgrove rang as they roamed with his gun, but he shot him with yours. How much was Jeter going to pay you for this job, Waldo? Don't talk, Waldo. He's bluffing. You're telling me he's bluffing. Nice kids, these college boys. Tell me, was it darkness or Danimora, Waldo? Shut up, Copper. You killed John Arbogast to throw suspicion on Marty Estelle. Then you hired Waxnose to fake a holdup on Grover. Why? Again, to throw suspicion on Marty Estelle. To make it look as though Estelle was trying to scare Grover into paying his gambling debts. If I hired Waxnose, why would I have shot him tonight? Because you like to kill people, Waldo. When I was brought out here tonight, Waxnose thought I was Grover in the car. He began to fake his holdup. But you just couldn't resist taking one of your snappy snapshots at Waxnose, could you, Waldo? Shut up, could you? Next, Mr. Wadsworth Jeter. Look here, Malo. You can't accuse me of... Doctor, be sick. Call a doctor. It's his heart. If Jeter dies, it's your fault, Malo. Okay, Waldo. Tell you what I'll do, Waldo. If Jeter dies, he doesn't have to pay me my fee or even. Okay, Waldo? Harriet Angel, listen, go call the doctor. And while you're there, call the law, huh? His heart was as good as mine, if you want to make anything out of that. The law had Jeter and Waldo cold, and I mean cold. Me? Well, I went out a couple of times with Harriet, as I sat home with her a couple of times drinking her scotch. It was nice, all right, but I didn't have the money or the clothes or the manners. Still, I was sorry when she went to New York to live. She had absolutely the best scotch I ever tasted, maybe because it was free. I don't know. You have just heard Van Heflin, starring in the mystery series Raymond Chandler's The Adventures of Philip Marlowe, brought to you by the Lever Brothers Company, Makers of Pepsidon. Van Heflin will return in just a moment. Have you tried, have you tasted the new Pepsidon toothpaste? Its lingering, minty flavor is so fresh and inviting, families prefer it by an overwhelming average of 3 to 1 over any other toothpaste they tried. In a recent nationwide test, these families said New Pepsidon tastes better, makes breath cleaner, and makes teeth brighter. Remember, New Pepsidon gives you more invigorating earium foam. It sweeps dulling film away. No wonder it's the 3 to 1 favorite with families all over America. Get New Pepsidon with earium for your fun. Get New Pepsidon with earium for your family right away. Now here's our star, Van Heflin. The need for food in Europe tonight is desperate. Starvation faces a multitude of our fellow men. There's a way you can help. For $10 a package containing 21 and a half pounds of food will be sent for you to a friend or a relative or any member of an organization you designate in Europe. Simply say to a little French girl or to a Belgian war widow, your order will be strictly respected and you will receive a signed receipt from the person who received your gift. Send $10 now. Send all you can. Send your $10 to CARE, C-A-R-E, CARE, New York. Help keep America the hope of the world. Tonight's story was adapted by Milton Geiger from the story Trouble Is My Business by Raymond Chandler, creator of Philip Marlowe, the screened most famous private detective. The original music was composed and conducted by Lynn Murray. This is Wendell Niles inviting you to listen again next week at the same time to another exciting mystery of the adventures of Philip Marlowe, starring Van Heflin with a distinguished cast. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.