Sam Spade - The Apple Of Eve Caper

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Sam, say detective agency.

Me, sweetheart.

Sam, hot impotence.

I was just thinking of you.

Man, who else?

Both players with burning.

No, Sam.

No.

With regard to my shortage of all the supplies.

Don't give it another thought, Ab.

This was going to be a short report.

Short and sweet, Sam.

Hardly, Angel.

In fact, Bailey.

Well, Sam, if you would ask me, I could have told you.

That girl was merely trying to serve a typhus in a boy-fant's tea pot.

Again?

It was perfectly observant to me, Sam, that she had sour grapes written all over her.

Sour apples, Abby, but you're a warm.

And that's what I'm so fond of you.

Oh, thank you, Sam.

I'm glad I could be of help, though I must confess the apples are over my hair.

Well, don't feel bad about it.

That's how Newton discovered the law of gravity.

Say where you are, I'll be right down to take my report on the apple of Eve, Saber.

National Hammond.

America's leading detective fiction writer and creator of Sam Spade,

the hard-boiled private eye, and William Spear,

radio's outstanding producer director of mystery and crime drama.

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Oh, Sam, it was come out here.

Sure. Why is it nervous?

Nothing, nothing, really. I'm just glad to see you here.

I'm glad to see you.

Come on, Albert, what are you hiding behind your back?

Well, it is a surprise, Sam.

So you just run along into your office and I'll be right with you.

Surprise, huh? Let me think, Father's Day?

No, surely not.

Oh, no, Sam, no. It's just as the guys are shorties of office supplies.

I do hope you'll be able to mint your words.

That's all I junky got stuff in between the pages of your notebook.

Where?

Oh, well, Sam, you see, improvisation is a child in necessity.

So the stretch I supplies I just cut up some old trips of waste paper

in case we run out of the genuine.

Well, well, very ingenious. Shall we commence?

Yes, but not too many corrections, Sam.

Frayed this eyebrow pencil might not last.

Well, don't bear done on it. Where was I?

No place, Sam.

Uh, date?

I would have had that, Sam.

Oh, this one goes to...

Hey.

Yes, Sam?

The calendar. Where is it?

Calendar. What calendar, Sam?

You know perfectly well which calendar.

It's been hanging there in the law for three years.

The one from Harold's club in Reno.

Oh, who's that old calendar?

It was out of date anyway, Sam.

That calendar was timeless.

It was not, Sam. It was bolder.

That's a lie. I met the girl who posed for it.

And more modest circumstances, I hope.

What's it, Sam?

No, Sam, don't.

Yeah, what did you do with that calendar?

You must inside yourself, Sam.

Let me see that notebook.

Yes, Sam.

Uh-huh. Old waste paper, indeed.

An art treasure mutilated in for what?

To serve your own base purpose.

Just because you were two abs in mind of the order,

if you oversupply.

When I frequently alluded to our dwindling resources, Sam.

But no, you were too proud.

Take these and put them in a safe place.

You can put it back together with scotch tape on your own time.

Oh, we're not a scotch tape set.

We've got a first aid kit, haven't we?

Well, you don't.

Use the adhesive.

Date. June, 1949.

I won't soon forget that.

Two, Detective Lieutenant Dundee, homicide detail.

San Francisco Police, prom.

Samuel Spade, life's number one, three, seven, five, nine, six.

Oh, subject to the apple of Eve, Caper.

Did, Dundee.

The start of it was yesterday when Eve Adams first walked into my office.

She was angry and she was terribly, terribly hurt.

In fact, she had a shiner, a swollen jaw, and somebody had bitten her on the arm.

And furthermore, she had the audacity to suggest that there was something shady between I and Mr. Hagen.

When it is an item of public information that her and Gortagen

were washed out practically before they started.

And I might just add in pack.

Just a minute, Miss Adams.

You say this girl can't be her apartment and the jealous rage and attacked you without provocation.

None whatsoever.

I never opened my chapter, except to the minders.

It would have been a blessing to see human race.

If her old man had never met her old lady.

And as she sought those three layers of pancake on her foot,

could fool a blind man at to her true age and sing as what her mouth was.

She should never open it for through what might come out.

I see. Any girls' names?

Down at that flea bag where she works, she's built a dream of love.

And is she ever a nightmare?

Dream of love. That's D-R-E-A-M-A.

It says there, but I do not intend to take this episode lying down on my chin that you say.

Why, if it had not been, for the time of the arrival of my constagy,

that cheap nail would have brained me with my own gin bottle.

I say, landlady, broke it up.

And you say she threatened a return of the gun and blast you if you continued to say Mr. Hagen.

That is the fact.

And she is just cheap enough to try some low trick like that.

And what do you want me to do, Miss Adam?

I want you to play a formal call on that game.

And tell her that upon the very next occasion of any violence,

expect thereof out of her, I'm going to yell cop.

In fact, Mr. State, I am placing my life in my hands in your hands.

And if you are anything of what you're cracked up to be,

you will have no difficulty in giving that creepy crow the bomb's rush straight out of my life.

Pride name, Miss Adam's my secretary seems to be calling you.

Adam, I wait. I know who's in there and I'm going in.

Adam, I wait.

Miss Miss Miss Miss Turkey, bro, you should have hired the fourth Marine, dearie.

No, no, ladies, ladies, please break it up.

You knew I'll show you who to get up with.

You know what, I'll let you have it.

No, no, ladies, please.

Now let's talk this over calmly and sensibly.

Okay, you ask for it.

No, ladies.

Please.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand, my help.

Who's here?

Speak to me.

Stand.

Stand.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Don't hit me again.

Now you're going to have the chills.

Oh, stand, you prick.

Yes, stand.

Yes, stand.

Yes, stand.

Hold on.

Yes, stand.

Yes, stand.

Yes, stand.

Yes, stand.

What does it taste awful water Sam? Where'd they go?

Well, they chased each other down the hall. I thought you'd go now. I did. What did she hit me with?

She took a step out of her purse and left side before I could prevent it.

But you were still on your feet when you told me to close the door.

Fine, fine. Help me up.

Easy, easy.

Oh, when I think of you lying in here on a conscious all that time, I went out to lunch.

What?

Anything can happen to you. I'd never forgive myself.

You call this nothing?

Are you just a down-to-down relapse? Now the ambulance will be here in a minute.

Ambulance? I should know all these things cost money.

I'm sorry Sam, I lost my head. But I saw you lying in all of a heap.

Forget it, forget it. What's that gadget that they're on the floor?

Oh, it's midship. It's a dropout of a purse when she opened it for the staff.

Ah, apple of e.

It's a ghost color, Sam.

Apple of e.

Any courage, Harry speaking?

Space, this is dream of love.

Keep your distance.

Look, you left your lipstick, but don't bother to come after it. I'll mail it to you.

What kind is it?

Apple of e.

Sorry, I've never used it.

Good, then I won't give you another thought.

How but you got to. She's dead.

You that is?

Yeah. She jumped into a taxi in front of your building. I went straight after her.

But I got caught in traffic where they're tearing up Market Street.

That could be anywhere between the infargate arrow and twin peaks, fine alibi.

What comes next?

Well, I'm at her apartment now. And she's dead.

Hey, I'm staying.

Hold on.

Gaffy.

Could take your ambulance. I said I'm away. What should I do?

Well, it's ten bucks now, honey. I'll use it for a taxi. Hello, Miss Love.

Yeah.

Stay there and don't touch a thing. I'll be right over.

Dream I hadn't waited if that was really where she'd called me from.

E.Vatams was on the bedroom floor in front of a dressing table.

There was broken glass all over the floor, the place reaped the perfume.

The front of a negligee was splashed with red.

I looked for the wound, but I didn't find any. Then I looked at her hands.

All the nails on her left hand and two on the right with the same color as the stain on her clothing.

And at least she'd been seated at the dressing table putting on nail polish when the murder entered the room.

The back of her head had been creased by the well-known blunt instrument such as a heavy sap.

I felt the bumps on my head and looked at the over-turn nail polish bottle on the dressing table.

It was called Apple of Eve.

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And now back to the Apple of Eve cavern,

tonight's adventure with Sam Spade.

The second time around the murder apartment,

I noticed something I hadn't caught the first time.

Some smears of Apple of Eve nail polys that didn't show very distinctly

against the rust-colored carpeting that left the clear trail across the kitchen lannolin.

I opened the back door, I smelled burning cloth.

It was incinerated just outside,

and from it I fished a man's shirt, partially burned.

The initials in the pocket were still intact, so were the red stains under them.

The initials were GH.

The stains were, you guessed it would come in there, Apple of Eve.

Yeah.

I'm looking for Mrs. Drain of Love, she's home.

No, she hasn't.

Thanks, I'll come in and wait.

Wait, wait, I'll make you...

Okay, you're in.

What do you want with her?

She's in a little trouble.

You a cop?

Why don't you expect her back?

I don't know.

What's this trouble?

She threatened to kill a woman, and now she's dead.

Oh, a girl named Eve Adams.

Why would she want to kill Eve?

I don't know.

I don't know.

What's this trouble?

She threatened to kill a woman, and now she's dead.

Oh, a girl named Eve Adams.

Why would she want to kill Eve?

Boy, I got it.

They were locking horns over a guy named Gors Hagen.

You know him?

Yeah, and I wish I didn't.

Who is he?

He was to run a gambling ship down at Malibu.

The law turned it into a bait barge.

Now he calls himself a yachtman.

But if you're trying to connect him up with my sister at the bad connection,

she hasn't seen him in years.

His idea or hers?

Hers?

And mine.

And what was the beef?

And who are you?

I'm a brother.

That is my name.

And why would there be any beef between those two?

Eve was my sister's best friend, and she was engaged to me.

And this knows must be quite a shock to you.

You're taking it like a little soldier.

She was asking for it.

I wonder.

I beg you to leave town with me, but no.

She couldn't sneak off like that without letting Gors know the score.

I told her he'd kill her before he'd let her go.

Mm-hmm.

You look here, Eddie.

Yeah, whatever.

Where do you keep your shoes?

In a closet, kiddo, where do you keep yours under the bed?

What's your closet in here?

I wait a minute.

You can't hands off me.

Let me see your warmth.

And better be good.

You're going out of here on your head.

Take your hands off me, Eddie.

Let's see that warmth.

All right, I got a warmth, Eddie.

I didn't find what I was looking for.

A pair of crepes sold shoes with places of apple of Eve nail polish on them.

But in one of these coat pockets, I found a sale slip

from a department store cosmetics product.

There were several items that the one that interested me said.

One lipstick nail polish set apple of Eve.

About then I smelled brandy and a voice behind me said,

What happened to the kid?

Huh?

Oh.

Uh, he asked for my want.

Well, when you come to see me, I'll know better.

Your name is Goss Hagen.

I'm headed for your place right now.

What are you looking for?

A pair of shoes with crepes sold.

What do you want with my deck shoes?

I thought maybe they'd match up with this piece of the shirt,

but you're initials on it.

Give me that.

That's a fact.

Where'd you get that?

In the incinerator at Eve Adam's place.

Well, that don't prove anything.

Lots of people got the same initials.

Have you talked to, uh, oh, George Howard?

He's alibi.

He's out of time.

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I don't know any George Howard.

I thought so.

Okay, let's cut out the monkey business.

Give it to me.

That's evidence.

Give it to me.

All right, I'll give it to you.

I did.

He gave it right back to me.

I was only losing on point until I stepped over plural already

and lost my balance.

That's when he gave me the coup de gras.

You.

I wasn't quite unconscious, but somehow I just didn't feel like getting up.

When the apartment door opened, I opened my good.

I just widened up to see Dream of Love walk in.

Of course.

What are you doing here?

I come to help you, Dream of Love.

I don't need any help from you, Gorse.

I told you that three years ago.

Why, you kill it.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You killed Eve Adams.

Why?

You're wrong, Gorse.

I haven't seen Evie and Aegis.

Why did you kill her?

I...

All right, I did it.

Yeah.

Why?

I was jealous.

Seeing the two of you together after all, we'd been to each other.

Come on, laugh at me.

I've committed a murder out of love for you.

It's very funny, isn't it?

I'm very fond of you, Dream of Love.

My poor, little Dream of Love.

I'd give you anything.

I need a shirt from my back.

Here.

Here's a piece of it on the counter.

I see you're impressed.

Me too.

Come on, we'll go someplace where we can be alone and talk things over.

No, Gorse, please.

I can explain everything.

I can explain in the car in the way down to the boat.

Come on.

You're hurting me all.

Hurry!

Come on.

Come on.

Stupid man.

I staggered at my fate and stumbled over to the door.

I reached it just as Hagen's car pulled away from the curb.

At the time I found a taxi.

Or at least halfway to wherever they were going.

I didn't know whether the boat he had met.

It was tied up at the Embarcadero, anchored in the marina,

more to sorcery to or be calmed and open.

But there was a seafaring man in our town who knew about such things.

My port of call was the seahorse, bar and grill.

Just off ahead of Pier 16, or is it the foot?

...

人民.

Happened for sunny?

Peer is silent, son, as in Prasav.

My mistake.

Salty, baneum and salty banechae.

Only one sulph-a thing I found to buy,

salt water, saffé and catees and everything.

Have a life saver.

Well, thank you, sir. You're very generous.

No we didn't. Money made it, but it's straight from the mint.

How did you do that?

What's up, sonny?

You and the whole again?

Ha ha!

You catch me, Drift?

Yeah, uh, what do you know about a Yachtman, then, Gors Hagen?

Oh, nicely put, matey.

Does there anything lower than the Yachtman, he's it?

Mm-hm, where's the kid who's both?

Well, now, she's still a float.

She'd be dragging her hook, summer's off, Sosolito.

Now, she's a converted PT, you know, because of the sea queen.

She had her bottom planks ripped out in the back of the cow's sea,

and they patched it up with plywood.

Well, she's got two diesel she has, two screws,

two to one reduction gear.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

What's the quickest way of getting out to it?

Well, no, there's not much craft for Charlie to hear about this time of night, you know.

There's that Novac fella, but that's the present he's sleeping one hour.

Thank you.

It might not be worth your while in the wage.

Why not?

Well, Hagen stopped by here 20 minutes ago looking for his engineer.

Said he was casting off on-side engineer or no engineer.

What about your boat?

My boat.

Well, omitted, on the pleasant course,

you'll stand up any double-end a Monterey glory in the class,

without a head sea, that is.

Then, on to the hand,

you'll put it in the bottom, right?

You'll put in a quarter of swell.

Yeah, yeah, how much?

How much?

Five dollars an hour,

and that's with you, man, and the boot's pumped up.

Okay, let's go.

This, yeah, Hagen fella now.

You onto the trim of his sails?

Sails on a PT boat?

Not the boats.

And he's a man cut to his jib.

I didn't notice that, but he was wearing crepes old shoes.

Well, tell you about this Hagen lady.

Feller once tried to board him.

Customs officer, no less.

What's up?

Pick him up four days later, in a gill net,

with a fish gaff still cleaned through his neck.

Yeah.

Yeah, have another life saver.

You may need it.

After he'd last met on my station at the build spot,

Captain Pissotti got his double-end a Monterey glory

and applied across the saucer lethal, he hoped,

and we plunge reckless land of a fog.

As nearly as I could catch his drift,

there was a 50-50 chance that, hey,

Hagen had found his engineer

and would be halfway to the Ferrell Islands

before we could make it past the Alcatraz,

if we stayed afloat that long,

or a V that he hadn't found his engineer

and might be having trouble starting up those two diesels

with the twin sprues

and the two to one reduction gears, whatever they are.

Yeah.

Yeah.

She allows me, do you?

Which one?

About five points to court,

going with the high three-bought.

You get up on the port, do you, do you?

The letters round on the landing side.

Now swing round and put your on it.

Hey, anybody home?

He's likely blown, nursing them diesels.

He's got to rear back in Harlem age.

He likes it.

Uh-huh!

And see if we...

I like that.

Yeah, I know the rhythm.

Oh, are you?

That fool's talking!

Oh, the Lager Crapplery!

The Super Cargo request permission to mark that!

Oh, is he?

Spade!

I want to talk to you, Hagen.

That was sorry.

Well, what the hell do you know?

Plumbly lover, hit the skipper.

What do you got you?

Don't write me no.

That's a midship.

Yeah.

How do you run this thing?

I've got to get you to short.

That's swarper.

There's a fraud here.

Don't pull her back all the way.

She'll die.

And back to him, thank you.

You lie still.

What are you looking for?

No.

Jump a pocket.

Life's safer.

If you need it, I don't know more.

But wins and you're after court are made to remember that.

It's a good easy game.

Keep a balance.

Don't let your jib ruffle.

Keep her, of course, matey.

Keep...

Hey, Cam.

Cam, sorry.

Sour ragged.

I crawled over the rail and tried to make out Hagen's silhouette on the other boat.

I could just barely make out the shape of a holograms, the faint flow of life and the source later ashore.

We drifted a few yards astray in a Hagen's boat, but not out of rifle range.

I wondered why, if you could see us well enough to drop tap and souly, you'd let it go with that.

And I got it.

He was listening.

Somebody was pulling out from shore in a railroad.

I didn't waste any more time listening.

I dug in the cap and saw these jumper-fuckers fished out a waterproof pouch.

I dug a seamen's papers out of it.

He didn't need them anymore, wrapped it around my gun.

And I took off some clothes and eased myself over the side.

I didn't swim for speed, but for distance.

Stopping down in and make sure the man on the boat was still covering for me.

I felt my way around the hull till I found the anchor rope.

Just as I grabbed it, I heard him rest his eyes.

Hagen, what's that?

Eddie, love.

What do you want?

I've come after my sister.

Go on home, Eddie.

She's hailing with me.

That's the way she wants it.

You're lying.

Wait a second.

Come out out there, dreamer.

What's happened?

Your brother's down there in the boat.

Talk to him.

What am I going to do to him?

All right.

Eddie.

What he's done to you, say?

I'm all right, Eddie.

Everything's all right.

Go ahead and I've decided.

Go on home, Eddie.

He's lying to you.

He knows you'll frame him.

If you fail out on him, you'll walk him back.

I know, Eddie.

I'm coming to home.

I'm coming to home.

I know.

I'll free you.

Eddie.

Eddie.

Eddie.

What's up with Hagen?

No.

It's not the right for him.

I'm still up here.

I can always eat your shameless side.

You're right.

You're right.

Send him.

Did he hurt you?

No.

I haven't kicked in the stomach before.

It takes a woman to kick in the teeth.

I'm sorry.

I don't care what you're dead, but burns me up.

You didn't do it right.

I ate a bungal, especially a female bungal.

I'm a bungal.

You're the one.

It would have worked if you hadn't gone

poking in the incinerator.

I should have called the police.

They don't know what to do with evidence like that.

They've been wanting to get something

on course evidence repeal.

Listen, Angel.

Any flat foot could have seen through that setup.

Eve Adams was sitting in front of a mirror when she was maced.

She saw the murder into the room.

She got it in the back of her head.

That means she pressed her to ever walk up behind her.

That also means the evidence of a struggle was faked.

But the nail polish on course is sure.

You put that nail polish on her fingers.

After she was dead, laid that trail of the incinerator

with a pair of grosses shoes,

where any flat foot was supposed to think

he'd try to destroy the incriminating shirt.

But the dumbest thing you did was lying to me

about that matching lipstick you dropped in my office.

That made you look guilty of anybody

because anybody could have planted that fake evidence.

I didn't tell her.

I'm not a murderer.

Your brother might have got all of easy.

Crime of passion.

The police, please don't say that.

I can't bear the thought that after everything I did

it's all come to an end soon.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Have a life, Saber.

You may need it.

Get it?

Get it off!

Get it!

Get it!

Maria Edd, end of report.

Oh, Sam, poor Captain's insulting.

Pay his sign.

It wasn't a passon.

Go type that out.

All right, Charlie.

Hmm...

I just went in the package.

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Where did you say I'm supposed to go?

What stopped you?

The last day to my notebook going to our shortages apply, Sam.

But anyway, I'm glad, because I didn't have to go through it again.

I mean, huh?

Put cat in the soap.

Hey, please. Please, now, honest, I buy you a new notebook.

A nice pattern. Would you like that?

Oh, yes, Sam.

There's always something so final about final pages of things.

When I think of all the risks you take.

To say nothing of my clients.

And I got to put a new sign on the door.

A band and hope all year, who went ahead.

Oh, but I haven't, Sam.

Where there's a will, there's a risk.

There's a what?

A risk, Sam.

Small amount.

Which reminds me.

That's what a couple of fingers like.

Join me, just a whisper.

Oh, no, Sam.

One of us got to have a clear head.

Well, it'll be me.

Oh, best. Good night, Sam.

Good night, sweetheart.

The adventures of Sam Spade,

National Hammits Famous Private Detective,

are produced and directed by William Spear.

Sam Spade is played by Howard Duff,

Lorraine Tuttle is epic.

Howard Duff can now be seen starring

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Technicolor production of Calamity Jane and Sam Bass.

The adventures of Sam Spade are written for radio

by Bartolman and Gildow.

Musical Direction by Lut Blusking,

with score composed by Renee and Pierre Garagang.

Join us again next Sunday,

one author, Dashal Hammit,

and producer William Spear joined forces

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Brought to you by Wildroot Cremoyle.

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