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About this Episode
Presents tales filled with suspense and intrigue, each episode unraveling mysteries that keep listeners engaged and guessing until the end.
Hosts & Guests
Transcript
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Hello, you come to a 209.
Yes, this is Candymatson.
A national board-justing company presents Candymatson, you come to a 209.
Hello?
Hello, this is Rev Rat.
I've been trying to get in touch with you for the last three days.
I've been smugbound.
Well, I've been visiting an ant of mine in Los Angeles, Ducky.
A state worse than death.
However, I am glad to know you're back.
How is your feeling for long hair music, Ducky?
Hmm, I can take it or leave it, why?
In this case, I hope you can take it.
Every year of a gentleman named Epic's baldings.
You know that English Cincinnati can know true?
Of course.
I used to know him in London.
He's here to conduct a series of concerts.
for him. I know right and get him a baton or wholesale. He needs more than a baton
candy there. He needs help. That's why I'm calling you. What's he want me to do?
Look for the lost cord. You don't know how close to being right you are girl.
Anyway he's going to drop by me place this evening. I wonder if you could come
over too. I was going to hit the prone position early tonight but if you really want
me to be there I'll do it. Splendid candy. Come for dinner won't you? I just bought a new
chafing dish now. I'm putting up a tasty scraping of pasta rassole. Well how
interesting. It is. It's spaghetti. Allow us.
Candy mats and the girl all San Francisco claims to know personally. That's because she hits
the front pages of the newspapers more often than the three bridges. Kate you came in late.
Candy makes a tidy little living by mining her own business. Business being one of private
investigations. Take this deal with Rembrandt Watson and Eric Spolting.
It sounded innocent enough to start with but a clue here a corpse there can make a
very interesting story. One that candy mats and can tell you about herself right now.
What did the man say a clue here a corpse there? Well he's almost right.
The corpse came first the clue later. I also ran across the most ingenious device ever
dreamed up because the man to lose his job. And I managed to get a little culture on me whether
I wanted it or not. Because in the course of this little deal I got better acquainted with
Mozart, Brahms, Beethoven, even Caterpillarians. Bless you. It all began by accepting Rembrandt's
invitation that night for dinner in the meeting with Eric Spolting.
For the sake of the musician I climbed into a town that made music as I walked.
It was cut triumly on the grace notes and pulled through a reprise every other bar.
Then I put on my cuda and went over to Rembrandt's safe and California street opposite
old St. Mary.
Candy girl welcome to my knob hill I'm a Saturday. Thank you dear. Come in, come in.
Breath taking positively breathtaking. Thank you. You look gorgeous in that. What is it candy?
If you just stop and consider the thousands of man hours put in by little worms all over
it wishes you wouldn't ask that question. Oh silk. Where's the maestro?
No etiquette in the lodge yet. He'll be here shortly. What's his problem, ducky?
I haven't the slightest idea. But he seems terribly upset.
There's worry seems to concern itself with his concert tomorrow night at the opera house.
These boys are the long hair and coattails to match. They're always worrying.
I don't know how most of them manage to live so long. Oh, help yourself to the port there.
I had some more dirt but Henry me great dang be dust to them. Henry,
I haven't seen him in ages. How is he there? I'm so glad you asked candy. He's missed you terribly.
I'll let him in for just a moment. No no no no. Rembredder I didn't mean that. He missed you so dear.
Oh Rembrandt is charging me. No Henry. No.
Rembrandt helps. He's got his paws all over my brows.
He's in that sweet touch devotion candy. He adores you.
Well telling to do his adulation from the floor with all four paws on it.
Quick Rembrandt, a becoming pigeon chest with a beautiful picture.
Rembrandt. Oh yes, Henry down set this instance. There we are.
Now I know how that mudge hole in Chesapeake Bay felt when the big mole landed on it.
Into the kitchen Henry, back to your side at beef. That's the lab.
Oh that must be Eric. Or another great day.
Eric dear boy, do come in.
Thank you. What a charming place Rembrandt. So Bohemian, that's one word for it.
Personally I call it cluttered.
The candy dear. The art is that Eric's folding. Eric candy met.
I do. Really quite an honor Mr. Spolding. I've heard many of your European recordings.
Is that a fact? Yes, I had a very good orchestra in London.
Nice chefs all played well together. I used to know the producer on the standard hour.
That way I became quite familiar with the playing of the San Francisco Orchestra.
How did the two compare Mr. Spolding?
That's like trying to compare the Atlantic Ocean with the Pacific.
Both large bodies of water, but entirely different in characteristics.
Oh well, I feel the San Francisco organization would rate among the best of the world
with the proper conducting. And you feel you can give it the proper conducting?
Most certainly. I see. Why don't you tell Candy about your innovation in music, Eric?
I'm sure she'd be greatly interested. Oh yes, I'm sure.
It's nothing more or less than applied showmanship, Ms. Matson.
I've always had the firm belief that music should paint a mental picture.
I imagine the composers did too.
So I've made a point to always include one number in my concerts,
where we play in fluorescent lighting.
Oh yes, I recall reading an article in life about that.
I've been severely criticized for it. I conduct with an illuminated baton.
To me, the musical message is much better presented in that manner.
The audience sits in the dark and has a chance to interpret what the composer intended say.
Could be.
I've been accused of everything from cheap theatricals to degrading the concert stage,
but I'm sticking with it.
And convinced the public appreciates what I'm trying to do.
When will it tell me you're bothered about something Mr. Spoulding?
Yes, I am. I'm an artist, Ms. Matson.
I know only one thing, music.
That's why I wish to speak to someone in your line, investigating, and that sort of thing.
That sort of thing leads to money.
I know. And I'll be very glad to retain you.
If you can help me find out what I want to know.
And that would be.
Someone is trying to sabotage me, Ms. Matson.
The San Francisco concerts are critical stepping stones in my career.
I've given two concerts each time during the selection where we black out the lights.
The orchestra, unmask, has hit one foul, rotten chord.
Didn't you get it straightened out in rehearsal?
That's just it. It never happened in rehearsal.
I've checked the score afterward.
Perfect. I've talked to the orchestra personnel.
They're more amazed than I.
To say the least, it must be extremely embarrassing at a moment like that.
Believe me, words haven't been invented to describe such a feeling of modification.
The audience starts to titter, then laughs.
But then the whole thing has been shot to places.
My reputation is at stake, Ms. Matson.
I see what you mean.
I thought perhaps with your train's sleuthing instincts, you might be able to help me.
My old friend Rembrandt here recommends you highly.
Thanks, old friend here.
You got me interested in this, Mrs. Bowling.
When did you say your next performance is?
Tomorrow night at the opera house.
Tell you what, I don't know what your contract calls for,
but whatever it is, we'll split the fee and I'll go to work for you.
What?
Why, that's preposterous.
Isn't the future of your career worth it, Mr. Bowling?
Well, I'm very well.
I think it's all great just, but what can one do?
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Now, when do you rehearse for tomorrow night's concert?
Tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock.
Very well, I'll be there.
Just one word of caution.
Pay no attention to me whatsoever.
Make like a zip I don't even exist.
Agreed.
No, I'm so glad everything's settled.
Now, we can get to the spaghetti of our snow.
And the food is practically chafing at the dish.
Let's have after-reg yourself.
Shall we?
The spaghetti waffle was magnificent.
Rembrandt has a green thumb for taking the most ordinary food.
Adding a bird's nest or two in a dash of some witches potion
and making it taste like Ambrosia.
There was only one drawback.
For days after, you walked around like you had a red hot barbecue pit in your stomach.
I stopped off on my way home, bought a chronicle,
completed the journey, and piled into bed.
Then I read the paper, Ms. Kane caught the roost,
blanched at the radio column, and then concentrated on the musical section.
There it was, folding concert for the following evening.
The first movement from Brahms first, the Fountains of Rome,
the Renzi, so on and so forth.
And for his blackout selection, Swan Lake.
With that I dozed off.
And before I could pick up the remnants of the dream I'd had the night before,
it was morning and I was dressing in on my way to the opera house.
Just a moment, young lady.
You're not with the orchestra.
No, no, I'm here on official business for Mr. Spaulding.
Oh, sure, go right down in.
I passed through the stage door and onto the stage itself.
Just as I did, a little far away thought
started tickling the back regions of my brain.
Folding, folding.
By a strange quirk there was a gal who played first flute
in the orchestra named Spaulding.
I worked my way around to where the musicians were unpacking their instruments.
There she was, the gal itself.
Hello there.
Oh, hello.
How are you?
Fine, thanks.
You don't remember me, do you?
I'm Candy Mattson.
Oh, yes, the young lady detects you.
You used to drop backstage now and then to the standard broadcast.
That's right.
Nice to see you again.
Thank you.
What's this I hear about the orchestra,
falling on its face the last two contests?
It's an amazing thing, Miss Mattson,
where it'd complete loss of words for an explanation.
I understand it's front page news all over the country.
And why not?
Well, thing of this sort is news.
Erex fit to be tied, of course.
Why can't blame him?
Incidentally, I just happened to think,
isn't your name Spaulding too?
I beg your pardon.
I said, isn't your name Spaulding too?
Why?
Yes.
It is.
We spell it differently, however.
Oh, so?
Yes.
Erex spells his name, SPAULDMG.
I have no you in my name.
Mm-hmm.
You both have a decided British accent.
Oh, do you think so?
I rather thought I'd lost mine.
No, hardly.
Tell me, do you how do the members of the orchestra
feel about these numbers played under fluorescent light?
Well, it doesn't bother them.
They think it's slightly silly,
but they don't pay any attention to it.
Each conductor has his own little idea of synchrosities, I see.
Well, I hope you have a fine rehearsal, Miss Erex,
Spaulding.
Miss.
Miss Spaulding.
Oh, yes.
Miss, you are going to be around for the concert this evening?
I believe so.
I find it becomes more interesting all the time.
Something was phony with a gal, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
I talked it off and decided to think about that angle later.
In the meantime, I ducked into a quiet corner of the wings
and listened carefully to the whole rehearsal.
Then it came time for the blackout number, Swan Lake.
It went beautifully without a hitch.
At the finish, Eric mocked his moist brow
and spoke to the orchestra.
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much.
You all know what has happened to these particular spots.
The rehearsal this morning has gone beautifully.
I thank you.
I hardly think I need to remind you
that tonight's concert will be critical to say the least.
If we repeat what has happened in the past two performances,
I shudder to think what will be said of me
and you as an organisation.
Will you all please pay a special attention to the score this evening
for my sake as well as yours?
That is all.
And again, I thank you.
Miss.
With that, swallowing dismissed the orchestra,
I waited a reasonable length of time
and dropped around with dressing room.
The concertmaster was in with Eric, so I waited.
And waited.
Finally, he was alone.
Or so I thought.
Oh, Miss Matson, come in, come in.
Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Swallowing, I thought you were by yourself.
Oh, for thousand pardons.
Uh, Miss Matson, may I present Waldo Remondi, my arranger.
Mr. Remondi?
Pleasure indeed.
Is there something you wanted to talk about, Miss Matson?
No, no.
Oh, that's all right, I'm just pushing off.
Do that, Waldo.
And take care of that second bar after let it cave.
It should be a natural.
No, Eric, not an a natural.
It should be a flat.
Oh, yes, yes, that's right.
A flat.
I'm so upset, I take care of it.
Waldo, I'll see you back at the hotel.
You're very happy to have met you, Miss Matson.
Also, Mr. Remondi.
Well?
Where are you, sir?
I don't understand.
Neither do I.
Let's both get rid of it.
Are you equated personally with any members
of the orchestra here?
No, in a vague sort of way.
How vague would your friendship with the first flute is be?
How did you know about her?
I didn't, but now you told me almost.
What about her?
I was hoping this would be kept quiet.
She was my wife.
I had a hunch it was something like that.
Could she have anything to do with your lack of grace
and notes?
No, not, no.
No, no?
The former, Mrs. Spalding.
Well, we've got to start somewhere.
She's as good a target as any.
I'm afraid you're on the wrong scent, Miss Matsoni.
No, no, and I had our differences.
We split up.
She came to America and joined the orchestra here in San Francisco.
She's respected and admired.
She wouldn't do anything to jeopardize her musical career,
I'm sure.
But she might.
You're.
Have you cut up any old capers since you've
been here, Mr. Spalding?
No, we haven't spoken.
It's an unwritten rule with both observed.
Hmm.
It says the same aroma Monterey has
during the sardine season.
Well, I'll keep plugging away.
Good luck on the concert tonight.
You need it.
The hotel where Spalding and Company
made it headquarters was just a hop
skipping a jump from the opera house.
But I would have looked silly getting there that way,
so I drove.
A simple question produced results.
The Waldo Ramonde was in room 1812.
Before I could ponder whether that was from the overture
of the same number, I was there.
Come in, please.
Oh, hello.
Come in, won't you?
Thank you.
I hope I'm not disturbing you.
Oh, no, no, not at all.
Seems we have a music lover in homage.
However, don't you think Eric might
resent this little visit?
Why you little cut it, Ramonde?
You're lucky I only slapped your face.
I'm here on business only.
Get out of here.
Not yet, small time.
I want to have a little talk with you.
Who do you think you are, walking in here
and making demands of me?
The name is Miss Matson.
That doesn't mean anything to you.
I'm sure, but I happen to be a private investigator.
Oh, oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't think that you will forgive me, won't you?
I'll call a meeting of the board and let you know.
I've got a couple of questions to ask.
Give me the right answers, and we'll both save time.
Gladly, if I can.
How long have you been with Spalding?
Almost 17 years.
Did you know that the first flutist here was once his wife?
Yes.
We don't talk about it.
Neither do we talk to her.
What about this studied confusion that's
occurred during the last two concerts?
It's most incredible.
None of us can understand it.
No, none of us.
Does this write you that a whole symphony orchestra
just couldn't possibly go sour unless the whole symphony
orchestra had agreed?
Or, unless the score was wrong.
But that couldn't be it, either.
Both Eric and I have checked immediately after it,
and that leaves us nowhere.
Exactly.
I have only one further suggestion.
And that would be...
Get better acquainted with Noona Spalding.
What do you mean by that?
You're a private investigator, Ms. Madsen.
Why not apply the tools of your trade?
The whole thing was becoming as simple as hydrogen.
Using my cool Sam Spade logic, I decided to do nothing
until after the concert that evening.
So I went home to my penthouse on Telegraph Hill,
showered, and sipped into something movie writers
would have described as comfortable.
Then I called Rembrandt on the phone.
Rembrandt bought some studios?
This is Candy Metton, private eyeball.
How delightful. We both got a plug in.
Yes.
What's on your mind now?
You dear.
How'd you like to attend the Spalding concert tonight?
No, Candy. I've heard music before.
So have I.
But this is more or less a command performance.
I recognize the command in your voice.
Very well.
Shall I dress?
It's customary, isn't it?
I mean, how would you like me in soup and fish?
No, Ducky. I've seen your soup and fish.
It's covered with soup and fish.
No, just come as you are.
Oh, candy.
Very well. As you say, Drip.
I'll pick you up about 730.
Flambeam.
But when we sit in you, the diamond horse you?
That's right. Backstage in the wings.
I bustled above getting ready.
As long as I was going to be backstage,
I didn't have to get too fancy.
So in practically nothing flat, I was out in the car
and once again driving over to Rembrandt's place.
He was ready. He jumped in, and we took off at the opera house.
The carriage trade was arriving at the carriage trade
entrance. So I found a place to park out and back,
and then we went in.
Dr. Wally, one of the stage hands,
and got two chairs on the left.
Just as that moment, the concertmaster
gave the cue for the orchestra to tune up.
That was Spolding's cue to float out and stage right
and make his entrance.
He carried more ham per pound than you'd find
in a Chicago stock drive.
He minced to the podium, bowed, scraped,
and faced the orchestra.
It all started nicely enough,
even though the orchestra was playing
as if it were sitting on edge.
First the Brahms, then Pountains of Rome.
They took a bath in the first fountain.
It felt so good they went on to another.
Then another, and they were through, two of a fountain.
Now it was time for the production number.
The lights dimmed, the fluorescent lights
on the music stands came on.
Spolding flipped a switch and his bat on it up.
It could feel a tenseness come over the audience,
and the orchestra started hatching its eggs.
Then it gave the downbeat, and Swan Lake was underway.
Everyone seemed to feel that the worst
was over.
You could almost hear the snapping of spines
as the audience relaxed and settled back in their seat.
And that's when it happened.
It had happened again.
The most horrible sounding chord I'd ever heard.
The audience stood up.
This time there were no laughs, just a stunned amazement.
The orchestra stopped playing and spalling
to his bat all on the stage and walked off into the wing.
Slowly the orchestra followed.
I was just as dumb struck as the wrist.
Then I got my width about me and ducked around the rear.
Come on, Rembrandt.
To where, girl?
Anywhere.
I wanted to talk to people, find out what happened.
Don't you know?
They blew a king's eyes, clink her.
Well, that was well established.
It'll be heard around the world.
But I want to find out how it happened.
Uh-oh.
It was falling, talking to Remundee.
I ruined Walter through.
How can this sort of thing happen?
How can it possibly happen?
Oh, look, Eric, calm down.
It's not as bad as you're making it out.
I'm not making anything out.
I'm facing the packs.
I'm through.
Do suppose I can face the critics.
The public after three successive performances like this.
Oh, there you are in this match.
Some other help you've been.
You let it happen again.
Cool off, buddy.
You can't avoid something happening
when you don't know what that something is.
This is a something that's never been written into the book.
Oh, wait a minute.
Hasn't it?
All of a sudden, I've got me an idea.
Ah!
Great heaven.
I know the profits.
What's going on here tonight?
You'll forgive my sudden departure.
I intend finding out.
Ah!
We made like the cavalry going up San Juan.
The scream had come from all stage over in the dressing room.
That's where we headed.
By the time we got there, a crowd had gathered.
And there, in room 14, where their food clutched firmly
in her hands, lay known as folding.
Ah!
Ah!
I don't know what happened.
I'm going to try and get through here and find out what happened.
Excuse me.
Pardon me.
How is she, Candy?
She's not feeling well, Rembrandt.
The matter of fact, she isn't feeling at all.
She's dead.
Ah!
This was the kind of development I hadn't counted on at all.
An orchestra coming apart like wet tissue paper is one thing,
but murder is another.
That's where my friend Inspector Mallard comes into the picture.
I made a call to headquarters, but he was out.
So instead, a couple of his boys came over.
I left the entire thing in their capable hands
and tried to clear up a little unfinished business of my own.
You still play the cello, Rembrandt.
It's strictly funny on the amusement, though.
Why?
Well, you know music.
Take a look at the score.
Right about here.
Yes.
This is just about where they hit that foul chord.
That's right.
Notice anything wrong.
If you see, this bar looks all right.
Hmm.
So does this one.
They didn't get past this point.
Look carefully.
Why?
Yes.
That's what indentations alongside the notes.
Ever since light.
But there, nevertheless.
The pattern is beginning to take shape, Rembrandt.
And if you look again, you'll find these little irregularities
throughout the whole score.
Can't be your right.
Now's a good time as any to find out if I'm right or not.
Wally.
Wally.
That's your camera.
That's right.
Do me a favor, Wally.
When I shout now, switch on the fluorescent light.
Will you?
Okay.
Now, hand me that score, Rembrandt.
We'll place it on the music stands like this.
Good.
Keep your eyes on this bar right here.
Don't look away for one instant.
Now, Wally.
Okay.
Watch now.
They're the lights.
What do you see?
Can be.
Incredible.
That chord changed right before me.
That he eyes.
When nobody could play that, it has dissonance over dissonance.
That's what you heard tonight.
Keep watching.
The regular lights again, Wally.
Right, family.
Man.
You see?
Back to normal again.
But you don't see the bad chord, do you?
No.
This is amazing.
Most amazing.
The copious used a certain kind of ink that vanished
under the fluorescent light.
And at that time, a whole new score appeared.
But that awful chord varied in it.
Diabolical, isn't it?
Yes.
Isn't it?
Too bad you're so clever this medicine.
Hi, Ramondi.
I wasn't sure for a while, but when Mrs. Spaulding
got it in the dressing room, I had my money on you.
It's a shame your knowledge won't do you any good.
You're not going to be able to use it.
You see, given my pocket, a very competent 38.
Now move both of you quietly over to Eric's dressing room.
You better do as the man says, Rembrandt.
Oh, there you are, Mrs. Matson.
I'm on it.
Oh, no, you don't, Eric.
Folding.
You all right?
Yes.
Yes, I'm all right.
Just.
Next, man.
Come on, Robert.
He's ducking around that stage.
There he goes.
He's trapped and he knows it.
The cop threw over on the other side of the stage.
He's pulling back this way.
Rembrandt.
The stage has been raised on the elevators.
He's going to run right into that opening.
Remondi.
Look out.
Remondi.
Remondi.
How do you feel, Sporty?
A little weak.
Just hand me a spot of that brandy.
I should be all right.
Sure.
Tell me, why was Remondi gunning for you?
Until today, I didn't know he was.
All of a sudden, that name Remondi means something to me.
Here's your brandy.
Thank you.
Yes, Waldo was a very promising violinist.
Great things had been predicted for him.
Until the summer of 1933.
What happened?
We were driving through Sussex.
When my car overturned, his left hand was badly smashed.
Had to have the last three fingers, I'm getting it.
That was the end of his career.
First, he was bitter, wouldn't speak to me.
Said it was all my fault.
Little by little, I won him over.
Then, because music was his world,
I gave him a position of companion and librarian.
He's been with me ever since.
Yes.
Plotting your downfall.
And very cunning, too.
He waited all these years to pull the switch on his clever device.
Why?
Is that Ms. Matson?
Your wife, Sporty.
Remondi had it figured out that you'd attach all the blame to your ex-wife.
Pornona.
Gone.
And Waldo, too.
Yes.
And all because that accident left a bigger scar on his mind than it did on his hand.
Well, I'll see you, Sporty.
That was some concert tonight.
It seemed to have just about everything.
It was too bad about the ex-Mrs. Sporty.
She let her heart rule her head.
She went to Remondi's dressing room to make an overture,
to perhaps make an effort to patch up her lost romance with Eric.
She walked in at a bad time.
Remondi was applying the finishing touches to his pony score.
It was an assortment of ink all over the table.
The time, it didn't mean anything to Nona,
but during the performance, she discovered the same thing I did.
After that bad cord, she rushed off stage,
ready to apply the crusher to Waldo.
He saw what she was up to and beat her to it.
But the window weighed over the head.
Well, like I've said many times,
some of that music gets too deep for me.
I can go just stick to something not quite so complicated.
Something simple, enjoyable.
Something you didn't understand.
Like, Bob, perhaps?
Listen again next week at the same time.
For excitement and adventure, just dial.
Candy Martin, you can't do it two or nine.
Her tonight will have a verdict.
Is Eric's faulting?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Martin?
Harry Paul庘ir fired for Hellburg.
He's Eric's faulting.
Harry Victil is Waldo Remondee.
And, Norma Tooat is Ma'Ritttoins's faulting.
Jack Thomas plays the part ofgram-rphantwhatsithy.
The program stars Natalie Masters as possible and is
written and produced by preventing Prop carrier Masters.
Sound effects are created by Bill Brownelle and Jay Remden.
The fact that Alex and oneirlie and Jake are realmente
numb in influenced by Andrew in the brackets.
Phil Walker speaking, the program came to you from San Francisco.
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Access to affordable credit helps me pay my employees, but I don't really need it.
Infliction is killing me!
Who cares? Big retailers and making record profits!
That's why we support the German Martial Credit Card Bill!
See, banks and credit unions help small businesses make payroll.
This bill would cut the vital resources they need.
While increasing mega store profits, they deserve it.
Don't they?
Tell Congress, stop the German Martial Money Grab for corporate megastores!
Paid for by the Electronic Payments Coalition.
