 by Transcription. Let's get in touch with you. Demortuous Neil Macy Bonham. And William Spear, radio's outstanding producer, director of mystery and crime drama, join their talents to make your hair stand on end with the adventures of Sam Spade. Presented by the makers of Wild Root Cream Oil for the hair. You know, just a little Wild Root Cream Oil in your hair can mean a world of improvement in your general appearance. Just try it and see. See how Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic grooms your hair neatly and naturally, relieves dryness and removes loose dandruff. Yes, you'll be glad to discover that just a few drops of Wild Root Cream Oil make a big difference. So if you've never tried it before, get the 25 cent get acquainted size and ask for it by name. Wild Root Cream Oil Hair Tonic. Again and again, the choice of men and women and children too. And now with Howard Duff starring as Spade, Wild Root brings to the air the greatest private detective of them all, in the adventures of Sam Spade. My wounds will heal. Oh, I'll bet that Mamie Gagan had something to do with it. I could tell when she came in here that she was going to be... Demortuous Neil Macy Bonham. What? Latin, speak well of the dead, remember? Oh. One thing at a time, sweetheart. Let's get this over with. I want to find a doctor. Oh, you're so brave, Sam. Tearing on in the face of... of your face. Sure, sure, sure. You won't be satisfied until you just... just die for your profession. Well, if I do, Neil Macy Bonham, have a Neil Macy Bonham. That means? Latin means, uh, you have bony knees. Uh, date July 24, 1949, to Ms. Daphne Arlington from Samuel Spade, San Francisco, license number 137-596, subject to tears of night, dear Daphne. I hope this will clear up a few things in your mind. I hope it'll let you know how you got where you are and what happened to put you there. It all has an illogical beginning, middle, and end. At three, yesterday afternoon, my loyal secretary and confidant, Miss Evie Perrine, Adal, who has been rehearsing a cockney play for television, long opened my office door and said, Miss Mamie Kagan looked everything the name implied from her lately blunted head or genuine alligator shoes. I might add she weighed in at approximately 160 and was in very good condition. You spade! I am he, uh, sit down, please. Ah! Don't you believe me? I hate gum shoes. They all stink. Uh, something in your background. Perhaps it's a girl. I'm just assuming that you were one. All gum shoes are nosy. They talk too much. That's why I don't like them. Here. For me? Who else, stupid? Oh, and it says, uh, pay to the order of Samuel Spade, $100 signed Mamie Kagan, co-signed Johnny McCall. All right, is it good? You wise guys, something sure is good on the treasure. Get your hat. In this weather? We're gonna go see Johnny. McCall? Yeah. Uh, why are we gonna see Johnny? Johnny wants you should do something for him. Oh, what does Johnny want I should do for him? Come on, Spade, what's the matter with ya? He'll tell ya. I just love to hear ya talk, ma'am. That's all. Oh, this jazz ain't gettin' us nowhere. The boss is waitin'. Gum shoes talk too much. Yes, ma'am. Well, maybe we do, but ours is a lonely profession. Mamie led me to a large Cadillac parked in a no parking zone. She tore the ticket up and ate it. We got in and charged through traffic towards Burlingame. About a half a mile this side of the main highway, we turned off the left, and pretty soon we were winding up a private road to a final colonial mansion. There were three private patrolmen regarding the entrance. They all needed shades. They kind of nodded as we went up the front door. Naturally enough, it didn't open, but a peep-shutter did. Yeah. It's me, Feely. This is the private peeper the boss wants us to open up. Okay. How are you feeling, Mr. Feely? Screw, screw. All kinds of folks around. This way, Spade. Mamie, I got your peeper. Okay. Inside. Here he is, Johnny, flat-feet, and all his names Spade. I know. Oh, I know. I picked him myself. Go on, beat it. I hate to come to you. Boo. I don't mind Mamie. She's kind of bitter. Yes, she is. You did a lousy job on her hair last time. It's all streaky. Yeah, I know that. Oh, I'll sit down. Nice place, Johnny. Nice place. How's the gross? Oh, ain't as good as running beer, but them days are gone. I do all right. Two crap tables, two pharaoh games, a little roulette in the living room, but I have to be careful. Yeah, you seem to have plenty of muscle outside to keep it safe and comfy. Ha, punks all of them. But the best I can get nowadays, no good gunsles left, because they all got married and settled down or something. All right, Johnny, it's cool and it's nice out here. You make a living and I got a check for $100. Why? Well, my line, I don't generally have much use for a private eye. I don't generally like them. Neither does Mamie. But I can use one right now. Ever see this before? No? Well, it's a little bit of necklace. Necklace case. It's all the tears and night or something. Yeah. And it was quite a chunk of geetus. These four diamonds are good stuff. Dame named Daphne Arlington left it here a week ago and she went in for a plunge at the roulette table. She left it for a standby as she raised the cash. Kind of a screwy, Dame. You know, I would owe her with a lot of money. Boyfriend named Lenny Epich. He paints her something. Well, she sent me a check today for the 5G she lost and I just want you to take this thing back to her. That all? Yeah, that's all. I got my dough. She gets a necklace. You're a licensed wanted investigator and sure it's safe with you. I couldn't trust any of my punks with it and I don't like to be seen in public. So you just take it back. It's all very simple. Uh-huh. Now that you've told me how simple it is, suppose you give me the unexpogated sequel. Did her, uh, check bounce? Yep. You want a drink? That wasn't any check, Sam. She called me a couple of hours ago and said if I didn't have this thing back to her by tonight, she'd call a load of cops and come out here and tear the joint apart. Not that you screw your damn at that. You're stuck. You tell on me. If she comes with cop, I'm closed for season. I'm getting old. Oh, you're not old, son. Ah, Feely was running the table. I didn't know he'd taken this thing for security till we counted up. Stupid Feely. I should have pushed his mush in or something. Letting a dame like that make us a setup. Well, maybe you'll do better next time. Oh, ain't gonna be no next time, Spade. Well, here's your address. Here's the ice. Just take it to her and I'll chalk it up to experience. You better get yourself a new boy at that table, Johnny. You tellin' me, you tellin' me. Well, uh, bye. I thought you'd never get here. The performance begins at 8.30, and you know how the traffic is. Never going to have a bite to eat. You aren't, Lenny. Where's Lenny? I don't know, Miss Alina. I'm supposed to deliver some jewelry. Jewelry? That would be mortuous. Mortuous. Mortuous. Uh, yes, but I, uh... What are you looking at? Your throat. Really? Well, really, Mr. Mr. Mr. Spade, Sam Spade. Well, really, Mr. Spade. I'm only waiting for Lenny to get here so we can make the first curtain of streetcar, and we're going to be late if he doesn't get here. You can understand that, Mr. Spade. You're gonna be a little early. Streetcar doesn't open until Monday. Then already, and he hasn't shown up. Well, good night, Mr. Spade. Hey, the white arm and cape you were wearing and the black strapless thing needed a touch, but you had it. A diamond necklace. In fact, the tears of night, the same one I had in my pocket, Daphne, was hanging around your lovely neck. I re-buzzed your buzzer and knocked on your door for quite a while until it was quite evident that you were not going to open up. Under the hallway light, I snapped over the necklace case. Mortuous, you would say. And mortuous was what it said stamped inside the case. A gloomy word with a gloomy address. A white hotel on Turk Street. Mortuous? That's your service, sir. He had the look of death, but was this one who had its name. He was older than old, cadaverous, and in his skull-like head his eyes were white. He was wearing a flannel night-shirt. If you find me a bit indisposed, Mr. Spade, the Turk at the desk said it was a matter of jewelry. Therefore, a hundred more juices at your service. Now then, sir, what is so urgent? I came to ask you about a diamond necklace. I found your name stamped on the inside here. How so? Mortuous. The most respected name in diamonds, as well as all the lapidary arts. Most respected. I endured the name Mortuous to sit on him as the world over. I am the last of four sons, but would continue, Mr. Spade. Well, I just want you to take a look at this. And how do you come in possession of the tears of night, sir? Well, a man named Johnny McCall who runs a gambling club hired me to deliver it to a lady named Daphne Arlington. She lost her at the roulette table. She left it there until she could raise the cash. Deplorable, deplorable conduct on her part. Daphne Arlington moved into screech and ready to be sure, to be sure. I recall my interview with her when her late husband, Sidney, ordered this necklace. A lovely body, propelled by a ridiculous smine, for shame such conduct, a gambling house the tears of night upon. This is real, Anne. That doesn't fawn him. Mr. Spade, I am a gemologist. The house of Mortuous. Of course it's real. Take it good luck. When an artist creates a dazzling thing of beauty such as this, would he be so unlikely as to forget the time, the patience, the agony of his creation? See how each stone is carefully mounted to capture every single pin point of light. An incomparable masterpiece. An incomparable money. How much money? The whole sale market, about 10,000. He paid 25, but he had it, as I say, incomparable. Yeah. Yeah, well, I saw another one just like it tonight. You were ridiculous. The finest of work when his best could only create a crude resemblance. This kind of work demands an artist. An artist! But tell me, not in English here, but... My second year of Latin escapes me. Sneak in the grass. Is something wrong? No. You were concerned with the safety of this piece. I have a small safe in my room. You may have the key if you care. I'll take it with me. Thank you, Mr. Mortuous. My pleasure, Mr. Spain. Omnia Mortuous Bonavocates. All speak well of Mortuous. A punzer. What do you mean? In the dismal lobby of the White Hotel, I asked the night clerk for some wrapping paper and 20 cents worth of stamps. It was a hunch. Plus the fact that outside in the street, I spotted two of Johnny McCall's unshaved gorillas. They were looking up at the front of the building. Mr. Mortuous must have switched off his light or something because their eyes suddenly dropped and I saw them separate, one on each side of the front door. With shoulders carefully hunched, I stepped out into the lonesome night. I hoped they would think I was carrying my 38, which I was not. They didn't. There's the people at Candy. You want to ask them for a match? Candy's nearsighted. Mr. Burn, this is him, Ernest. You got a match, Spade? That's a close. Candy asked if you got a match. He's a dummy, Candy. He don't answer. You got a match, Spade? What did I tell you? He's a dummy. You don't look like no dummy. Take your hands off. He's a dummy, all right. I think you're Spade. See, he's a dummy, Candy. I told him about you being nearsighted and he wouldn't answer. He don't talk. Go on, smart boy. Tell Candy how sorry you are about him being nearsighted. I told you he was a dummy, Candy. All private eyes like you. And he asks you a question. He wants to know if all private eyes is like you. I don't like no dummy. We ask questions and he ain't told us nothing. That makes him a dummy. Maybe we find out something if we went through his pockets. Yeah, even a dummy's got pockets. Ain't that right, dummy? Hold him, Candy. All right, boys, you played the scene real good and I'll see what I can do for you. Hey, you thought, yeah. Make him talk again, Candy. Make him talk bigger, Candy. Bigger. Bigger. He talks real nice, but he don't say much. Think maybe he's tough, Highness? Yeah, maybe. Hold him up. See, he ain't so tough. I didn't feel like talking on that quiet little scrape that the only noise was my face pounding on their fists. I didn't have the necklace anymore, but they had to find out the hard way. The hard way for me. The makers of Wild Root Cream Oil are presenting the weekly Sunday adventure of Dashel Hammett's famous private detective, Sam Spade. Here's important news on good grooming. If you want the well-groomed look that helps you get ahead, socially and on the job, listen. Recently, thousands of people from coast to coast who bought Wild Root Cream Oil for the first time were asked, how does Wild Root Cream Oil compare with the hair tonic you previously used? The results were amazing. Better than four out of five who replied said they preferred Wild Root Cream Oil. Remember, non-alcoholic Wild Root Cream Oil contains lanolin. It grooms the hair naturally, relieves dryness, and removes loose, ugly dandruff. So if you want your hair to be more attractive than ever before, get the generous new 25-cent size of Wild Root Cream Oil. America's leading hair tonic, on sale at all drug and toilet goods counters. It's also available in larger economy bottles and the handy new tube. By the way, smart girls use Wild Root Cream Oil, too. And mothers say it's grand for training children's hair. Get Wild Root Cream Oil. Again and again, the choice of men and women and children, too. Go back to the tears of night, Caper. Tonight's adventure with Sam Spade. I remember trying to wake up a couple of times. I was dreaming that we were driving along in a giant Cadillac. Big Mamie was sitting on my lap. She was eating a diamond necklace and spitting out cherry pits, which Mr. Mortuus grabbed, looked at through his jeweler's glass, and then tossed into a left wheel. Then we had a blowout and a whole car vanished with everybody screaming, The Mortuus, The Mortuus. Around 7 in the a.m. I began to get a feeling. Several feelings, and all of them hurt. I had been dumped in the grass in a fairly nice neighborhood. In your neighborhood, as a matter of fact, Daphne. And five minutes later, I was climbing the steps to your apartment. I thought, maybe you'd let me wash my face in your bathroom. Also, you seemed a logical one to question since nothing else made sense. We were sitting in a large chair. The drapes were drawn, the door was slightly open, and only the light from the halls seeped in. You had the phone on your lap. The receiver was off. My guess was right. You were looking at nothing. Mr. Spade, it's you. You came back. You've been in an accident. I don't think you'll need this. Well then, Mr. Spade. Well then, I suppose you've met some people tonight who know a great deal about me. A gambler or a jeweler? Did they tell you about Lenny Eppich? He's really a dear, Mr. Spade. Quite the nicest boy I've met since Sidney was killed in that horrible automobile accident. Sidney and I had so many things together. I do think he enjoyed being alive with me. I mean, I cried when Sidney was killed. I really did. I cried. I didn't know what to do. I cried. That was three years ago, but now I have Lenny. He's really a dear. I do think that Lenny will be a very prominent artist someday. I do. Lenny asked me to marry him tonight. He did? I've been very lonely since Sidney died. Lenny isn't interested in my money. Lenny has some money of his own. What? A tongue adjusted to my mouth. Did that ever happen to you, Mr. Spade? Sometimes, yes. Perhaps I should see a correctionist. I'm glad you came by again. I didn't know you were a detective the first time. Who told you? Mr. McCall. I really can't understand, Mommy. I know it must be strange to you. Look at them. Some people live for it. Some people die for it. What plays, Miss Allen? We can't get anything done. Look, they look so funny. Very funny. I've seen them count money, so much money, and I really believe that that is all I live to. We're pointing at something across the dark and gloom. It took me 10 seconds to find the lightsaber. Stretched out on your floor, they look funny, all right? Candy and earnest. Both of them as dead as you can get. My name's Spade. I'm a private investigator. I'm calling from her apartment. Listen, there's been a couple of murders here. Murders? She's had quite a jolt. She's going to need you and all the help she can get to bring her out of it. I've called homicide, and it might be pretty rough for her. I'll be right over. Bring a doctor and a lawyer. I'm afraid she'll need one of those, too. He showed up about the same time the crew from homicide got there. If the answer is a good guy, he talked fast and urgently as to the doctor and lawyer he brought with him, and through their combined efforts, you were removed not to police headquarters, but to the private hospital in which you are now a patient. It was obvious from the powder test that you could not have fired the 45 which ended the lives of Candy and earnest. It was also obvious that the murders had been done elsewhere. But who had done them were meant to be seen. I've been expecting you. Come in, come in, sir. I've been muting myself with your chess board. Sit down, sit down. You had a hectic night. Yeah, your boys were pretty rough. Candy and earnest. Two men of another world, Spade. Not our world. Allow me to apologize for that, H. I want more than an apology, Mr. Mortuus. And if that's my gun and it looks like it has got a hair trigger, and if you'll pardon me for saying so, your hands are a little shaky. I underestimated you, Spade. Such an ingenious method of protecting the tears of night. Why, sir, by the simple expedient of placing it in an envelope and mailing it to yourself from my hotel lobby, you hired as guardians the entire United States Postal Service not to mention the armed forces. Thanks. What happens now? We wait for the mail. Just tell me where I'm wrong, will you, Mr. Mortuus? McCall wanted me to get caught with it. He didn't know it was real. He had made a phony form. Only you found out it wasn't phony when I came to your place. Then there was a double cross. If you can bear my vanity, I have invented a new word. Triple cross. It has a ring to it, hm? Oh. Including Mamie, hm? Mamie and her friends have been very valuable to me, but I must necessarily exclude them from sharing the profits. Mamie knocked out Candy and Ernest? A bet is by the last to the house of Mortuus. You'd play with them in Daphne's place? Mamie and I. A crude touch, I thought, but it had a purpose. I haven't to know that Mrs. Arlington has for a long time been on the verge of a nervous breakdown. With two cadavers and her living room, she was very unlikely to discuss a book with necklace with the police. And I doubt very much if she knew she was wearing the original or the imitation. Frighty girl. That's the laziest thing the house of Mortuus ever did. She walked in and found it. If you had merely returned the real necklace to her, it would have been simple to make an exchange, and none of this would have been necessary. I know, I know. You just sit here and wait for the mail. We wait for the mail? What about your other playmate? I'm afraid I'll be sought for a murder on two or three this night. Mamie. She got it, too? Yes. Where are the police gonna find her? Oh, in my hotel room, which I departed hastily once the room clerk had informed me of your ingenious method for protecting the necklace. I shot her there. You were cheap. Cheap, sir? I don't understand. A 10,000-dollar necklace? It's not quite a king's ransom, you know. The tears of night are worth five times that. I'm afraid I misinformed you as to their value. I didn't want you to become suspicious. You are a really horrible, terrifying old man. I suppose you think you'll get away with it. I don't intend to get away with it. An old man, yes. But I intend to spend my remaining years. They'll pick you up before you get to the airport. I doubt that. I shall turn the tears of night into cash. And with a well-laden purse, I shall guarantee to elude the police over half the world. In two years, perhaps three, they'll get me. But I'll have spent the money. We have a visitor. Caution, Spade, I do shoot well. Answer it till I go away. I'll be right beside you. One side, Spade, I got a gun. Obvious. Me, me. I thought I'd find you here waiting for the meal. You didn't do such a good job on me. Caution, my dear, I have a gun, too. Everybody but me. I can last long enough to let you have it. Not so good, my dear. Your loss of blood has made you groggy. Still good enough to... Wait, wait. It was almost a photo finish. He kind of leaned into the wall with a pain and amazed look on his face, and he seemed to try to walk. Spade, Spade, I believe I've been shot. I need a little assistance. I could... I can't seem to hold my feet, sir. I can't seem to hold my feet. This was an awkward planet, Vesta. The mortuous, near and easy bone, Spade. Or if your second-year Latin escapes your memory, speak well of the day. I'm a reporter, Reynolds. And that poor girl, Daphne. Oh, she must have felt when she saw it. That was pretty bad. Oh, you poor darling. Well, it's about time. And you go right home. I'm going to take you home. Yeah? Then what? You are a registered nurse, maybe? Well, I... Go type that up. I am completely well. And when you return, we shall Indian rattle. Certainly, sir. And now, listen to this. Shopping notes. Tonight or tomorrow, get a family-sized bottle or handy tube of Wild Root Cream Oil, America's favorite hair tonic.