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About this Episode
A collection of gripping detective stories featuring sharp-witted investigators, puzzling crimes, and clever resolutions. Each episode showcases the art of deduction and the thrill of the chase.
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Transcript
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Sam Sweetheart. Any calls?
Only one, Sam. Lieutenant Dundee of homicide.
You want you to drop around so that you can get your form of statement.
No hurry, not now.
You tell me what happened, Sam. I'm sorry.
Yes, Alma.
I guess he was one of your oldest friends, wasn't he?
You don't make any friends in this business, I mean.
You can write that in your book now and I'll give you the rest of it when I get there.
You sound tired, Sam. Wouldn't you rather just...
What, baby?
Well, go home and, you know, we just put it off until tomorrow.
Yeah, maybe I...
No.
Ah, get it off my chest tonight.
Stay there if you want to come on time and dictate my report on the Dick Foley Caper.
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Not you.
Always here, Sam, let me in.
Why, that's shaky.
Very when.
Just for the top of the glass.
That's enough.
You'll spill it.
Yeah.
Sam, what you said over the phone,
but not making any friends in this business.
You didn't really mean that, did you?
Forget it.
I'm sorry.
You didn't really mean that, did you?
Forget it.
You can label us, uh, file on Dick Foley.
Date, fill it in.
Yes, sir.
To, uh, Dundee at homicide, I guess,
from, uh, Samuel Spade license number one through seven, five, nine, six.
The facts are all here.
If you can dig a formal statement out of it, you're welcome.
I've known Dick Foley ever since I took out my license.
We've worked several big capers together back in my days as a continental op.
He and Mickey Linerhand and I.
Then he and Mickey opened their own office, Foley and Linerhand, private investigations.
Five years back, Mickey stopped the slug,
and since then the sign on the door read Dick Foley Detective Agency.
I'd seen Dick maybe four or five times in the last half of a dozen years
just to have a drink and chew the fat about the good old days.
He never talked about his private life.
I assume he didn't have any.
So when I went to his office the day before yesterday in response to his call,
I was surprised to find him in a clinch with one of the most beautiful nails I've ever seen.
Oh, oh, oh, Sam.
Well, shall I come back out for lunch?
Oh, uh, uh, Sam, this is Maxine, my wife.
Well, you don't deserve it, but I'm happy for you.
I'll return the compliments, Sam.
I've wanted to meet you for years, but Dick wouldn't introduce me.
Now you know why.
Well, uh, you run long, honey. Sam's here on business.
All right, Dick.
You can bring Sam home to dinner if you like. There's plenty.
If he's not too busy, but don't count on it.
Well, try anyway, won't you, Sam?
I will indeed.
Fine, I'll.
Draw the cheer, Sam.
Mm-hmm.
Sit down.
Oh.
What's on your mind, Dick?
You remember Claude Spicer that grifter I sent over for that jewelry store hike back in 43.
You never told me you were married, Dick.
I'm very happily married, now please pay attention.
I, uh, Claude Spicer, yeah.
Yeah, I remember the cable. Wasn't it a dam involved?
Well, Spicer had a girlfriend, but the cops gave her a good bill of health.
Spicer went up for a five-year stretch, they spung him last month.
What ever happened to that dam?
Uh, now look about Spicer.
He gunned for you?
You hid it.
How scared of mine.
Well, enough to ask you for help, Sam.
What's evening? Just revenge?
Sam, I wouldn't tell us to anybody but you.
But all the facts are that keep it didn't come out of that time.
I, uh, sort of it.
How come?
Well, I couldn't have stayed in business in San Francisco,
if it'd been generally known that my partner was the inside man on that jewelry store hike.
Mickey?
Yeah, Mickey Linerhan.
Ah, you and I are both great at choosing partners, Sam.
They both deserved what they got.
Only one difference.
I sent up the killer that plugged my partner.
Some people thought the way he gave evidence of Spicer's murder trial wasn't so hard.
Well, he was alibi, Sam.
In fact, the robbery was his alibi for the murder.
I don't know how he managed it.
I've been trying for five years to figure it out.
Spicer's afraid I might succeed someday.
That's why he's out to get me.
What's he waiting for?
Oh, I don't know.
He won't do it simple.
He'll have a fancy plan like the other time he's tricky.
Where's he staying?
At the Belvedere.
Here's his mug.
I kept a plan on the building for a couple of days
but he stayed hold up in his room.
I think he spotted me.
Okay, deck, I'll give it a buzz.
Wait a minute, Sam.
Yeah?
I'm not asking you to do this for love.
Standard fee.
Twenty-five and whiskey money.
Okay.
Forget it.
This one's on me.
In the elevator on my way out, I studied a picture of Claude Spicer
and the old police secretary dick had given him.
But a picture in the back of my mind kept getting him away.
It was dick fully's wife, Maxine.
When I hit the street, I still saw her face before I'm in.
It was no picture.
Only pretty as.
Sam, I waited for you.
I've got to talk to you.
My pleasure.
Shall we confer on an adjacent cafe?
Whatever you say.
I don't want dick to know.
Are you sure I'm ready to detect them?
Please, ma'am.
How's that, sir?
Black watch.
Yeah.
Looks dark enough.
Well, that booth in the corner, it's secluded.
Why not?
Slide in.
I don't know whether he's still but not facing the street.
Oh, sorry.
It's not much good of this sort of thing.
Sam, I'm not asking you to tell me what it is,
but if he's in really bad trouble, I think I'd have a right to know.
What makes you think he's in trouble?
Well, I'm not blind.
You can't live with a man and not sense it when something goes wrong.
I never thought dick was the type to show it.
Oh, he's tried to hide it from me.
And I haven't said anything.
I thought if he wanted me to know, he'd tell me.
That was a wise thought.
Hold on to it.
What I meant to.
But then a terrible possibility crossed my mind.
Sam, it isn't me, is it?
In what way?
Well, you know what I mean.
He's been away from home nights so much lately and he questions me so closely
about where I go and who I see and so on and I.
Well, I may as well ask you right out.
Did he hire you to check up on me?
Then that is it.
No.
You're not lying to me, Sam.
Why should I?
Dick says you're almost as old as Fendi's.
Talk so much about you.
And he must have told you I don't do that type of work.
Why do you keep looking at me?
Sorry, trying to place you, Max.
I keep thinking I've seen you someplace before.
Oh, it must have been my picture.
I was an actress.
Yeah.
Picture.
Yeah, maybe that was it.
What do you say it like that?
Like what?
Well, if you were angry with me.
Because I just got the caption on the picture.
Well, Sam, wait.
Come back.
Yes, I had.
And the caption was from a newspaper circa 1943.
And it read, Actress Lovely Clared in Lannahan Sling.
I flashed my pen star at the room clerk at the Belvedere,
learned that Claude Spicer was in, and stuck around to make sure
the clerk didn't buzz the room to tell him what.
Around four in the p.m., Spicer went out, very dressed up.
Umbrella, gloves and all.
He walked down Gary to Grant and turned north.
The cold San Francisco drizzle started blowing up in the bay.
At least I'd brought my overcoat.
A half a block up from California.
He entered Grayson's jewelry store.
I peeked through the rain streak show window after him.
Inside, pouring eagerly through a playful of diamond clips
while a long-suffering clerk idored hopelessly
from his side of the cotter was the Actress Lovely.
Maxine shot Spicer a quick glance of recognition
as he entered, but they didn't speak.
He took up a pose of genuinely patient,
shrugged his eyebrows empathetically at the clerk,
and leaned elegantly in his umbrella,
while Maxine found fault with every piece of jewelry
that was shoved in front of it.
The board expression left his face only once.
That was when the clerk opened the vault
and brought out some unset stones.
Their act may have been pulling the clerk,
but it was as plain as the nose on Spicer's face
or very plain nose it was,
but they were sizing up the joint for a push over.
Maxine left first.
He stayed long enough to buy a cigarette lighter
without her out.
As I took out after him,
I stopped to read the sticker on the inside of the glass door.
It said,
these climbers is protected by Dick Foley defective agency.
Maxine was waiting for him at the corner.
I grabbed up a Chinese newspaper and used it to listen behind.
But I'm even the father.
They didn't seem to care.
Well, are you happy?
Thought it'd be about a million bucks.
Why are you so disagreeable?
You ought to be feeling good.
Feeling good?
Five years stretch,
I come out to find my girl married to the Joker that sent me up.
You didn't think it was such a bad idea at the time.
Well, I do now.
Well, after tonight we'll go east,
you and me together, baby.
He'll catch up with us wherever we go.
Oh, you should live so long.
How do you mean that?
Just like it sounds, baby.
Bye.
Oh, don't leave.
I'm going to get some sleep.
I'll need a clear head.
Clara, I don't want to be alone.
Oh, not even tonight.
I don't want to be alone.
See you later, honey.
Bye-bye.
He went straight back to the building there.
No stops.
He picked up his key at the desk.
No messages.
Looked the elevator to the eighth floor.
Let himself into room 809.
Hang out to do not disturb sign.
Closed and locked the door behind him.
I kept a plan on it till around midnight.
Then I left to do not disturb cards from the door.
And I've been wedged into the crack of a door.
Who's a crafty move?
And I had just finished doing it, craftily.
When the door opened again in my face.
Huh?
Boy, what are you doing here?
Nothing, sir.
I'm making a survey.
What?
I'm from the Trotter Pole.
Trotter Pole.
It's like the Gallop Pole, but we're not in so much of a hurry.
Yeah.
Just kindly answer this question.
As a Democrat, do you believe?
Do we, huh?
I picked up to do not disturb card and wedged it back into the crack of his door.
Is any house sick?
No.
Except, of course, tiny stover.
The night paper at the velvet there.
If anybody opens the door like that, the card will fall out.
And somebody will always hang it on the knob.
Another thing tiny doesn't know is never to draw to an inside straight.
We played nine different times of poker until 5 a.m.
when I thought I'd go up and have another look.
All was quiet on the eight floor.
From the elevator bank, I could see room 809.
The morning table was shoved under his door.
And might do not disturb sign was apparently where I had planted it.
I just thought up to make sure.
Huh?
Boy, what do you want?
Me?
Paperboy, sir.
Your morning paper.
You get around.
Well, well.
Good news in the paper, sir.
Interesting.
Interesting.
Jewelry store heist up on Grand Avenue.
Oh, yes, sir.
Our paper only comes.
What?
I grabbed the paper from under 805.
It was the headline I could have expected if Spicer had left his room without my knowing it.
Grayson's Jewelry store, the shoppy and Maxine a case that afternoon,
has been taken for an estimated million bucks in uncut gems.
But Spicer's door hadn't been opened and there was no other exit.
I sat down and thought.
And what I thought of was that sticker on the front door of Grayson's
said these promises protected by Dick Foley detective agency.
When the 6 a.m. Oakland ferryboat fell his way blindly out of his sweat.
Claude Spicer was abroad and so was I.
Should have been getting lighter, but it wasn't.
The fog was thickening over the harbor and most of the passengers were inside drinking coffee.
Spicer didn't go in.
He climbed up to the boat deck and stood at the rail under the pilot's house.
I planted between two wet paint signs and waited.
Not the lawn.
I couldn't make out any features of the man who came up and joined them.
They stood face to face, not one on a foot apart,
and talked in voices that couldn't get them into the racket of a fog lawns on the harbor.
What spoke loud enough for me to hear was a gun.
They seemed to fall into each other's arms and collapsed in a heap on the deck.
And when I got to the spot only the dead one was there.
It was Spicer.
The other man had disappeared around the corner of the deck house.
A ray of light from the pilot's window swept over and I saw a gunmetal shine on his hand,
and it spun out over the rail as he threw it.
What?
Oh, it's you, Sam.
How has the French had lost him?
What did you do with Ford, Dick?
I had my reason, Sam, now trust me.
I'll keep in the clear.
How long?
As long as I go on playing soccer for you?
What do you think I hired you for?
Maybe I was supposed to say you killed him in self-defense.
Maybe I was supposed to see him making passes if you're wife if you needed that.
But Sam, you've got to work for killers before.
I've even worked for thieves, but not for a detective,
but not for a place you're supposed to be protecting.
Sam, it's not a shame.
It was for that cop, Dick.
I'm turning in when we get to open.
No, you're not saying that.
Dick, come back here.
Wait, don't leave me.
I'm going over the side.
If you try to stop me, you're going with me.
He crawled away from me, got one foot over the rail,
and kicked out at me with the other.
It caught me on the point of the chin.
I stumbled forward and grabbed off blind.
I must have caught him by the belt of C. John.
I remember something pulling me halfway over the rail and trying to get three of it.
I did, but not soon enough.
I was in mid-air and a black water came rushing up the meter.
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And now back to the Dick Foley Caper, tonight's adventure with Sam Spade.
I found myself mechanically keeping a flow somehow and trying to get out of my coat.
I felt heavy and watered, but I swallowed gallons of water.
A murk on low and thick.
There's nothing else to be seen anywhere.
I swallowed what felt like several more gallons before I got rid of the coat.
I'm out of a misty fog blanket, from every direction,
and there are dozens of different keys, and they're in fire, fogful and silly.
I stopped swimming and floated on my back to either the tub of my wear of us.
After a while, I picked out the moaning, evenly spaced glass to the Alcatraz siren.
They came out of the fog without direction.
It seemed to beat dawn on me, and straight above.
I was somewhere in San Francisco Bay, and that was all I knew.
When I suspected the current was sweeping the outdoor, the golden day.
And the light came out ahead of me, started.
I'm both laughing under the eye.
The way I lifted my head and screamed.
But the boat silent, crying as warning, drowned out my shoves.
Went on fast, and the fog closed in behind it.
Then I heard a news song.
Seagulls.
I swam towards it, and it seemed to get lighter.
A lot of it was the dawn light beginning to cut through the fog blanket.
But there was also a strange-looking man standing on the water and waving a green lantern back and forth.
I yelled at him to wait for him, and the seagull got off his hat and flew away.
When I got close to myself, it was not a man, but only a boy.
It's a little tight.
I used all the clothes I had left to drag myself up on the place that I'd let it walk me to sleep.
Hey.
Hey, me.
What's the mood of the brandy and home ghosts?
Yeah.
Here.
Get some of these done.
Where are we?
Hey.
You didn't have them.
You can tell that by the smell.
Oh.
The fish was warm.
Yeah, take it easy.
We got ambulance coming.
You going to the hospital?
No.
No.
I'll be okay.
Give me a hand.
Yeah, okay.
Hey.
Hey.
You do us a favor, will you?
Don't fall down until you get out of sight this time.
We're tired of picking you up.
I flanked the two kindly old fish afloat for their interest in my welfare.
Totted up the pier, fell into a taxi and went home.
Well, I soaked out some of my eggs and fangs and shells.
I did some stewing about the caper so far and stewed up on a van.
Get a carry me through to the finish.
I checked the coast guards and news of Vic Foley.
They throw me his body hadn't been recovered yet.
I got dressed and went over to his office.
The cops hadn't been there.
I went through the fire cabin.
And what I found on the Foley private had me so interested that I didn't hear Maxine coming
in until she closed the door.
What are you looking for?
You, baby.
I'm for you.
I'm.
Come in.
I said I'm.
Mm, nice.
Don't be mad, Maxine.
That guy makes a woman's bulge in the wrong place.
It's not my gun.
Well, see.
I said I'm.
Shut up.
Now, starting with the rap spicy went up for the same pattern.
And the way you worked this one tells me how you worked at the first time.
You get something on a private detective.
The first time, five years ago, it was Dick's partner, Mickey Linerhand.
Yes.
I don't know what spicy I had on him, but I do know he forced Dick to knock over Grayson's jewelry
still all last night.
I won't listen to you.
Okay, I'll talk to myself.
I'm not saying you killed Mickey Linerhand, but Dick did frame an alibi for you, didn't he?
Yeah, you're hurting me.
Good.
By spending a night swimming around in circles in the middle of the harbor sometimes.
See how you like that.
All right, it's true.
Dick did help me out of that old jam.
I'm not ashamed of it.
I'm proud our love was that important to him.
No, spicy.
That same old double cross.
Only this time I'm standing where Dick did five years ago.
Dick was set up as a passie.
The same way Mickey Linerhand was, but he got smart and pulled the trigger first.
Stop it.
Where did that hurt?
You fool.
I loved Dick.
Yeah.
I loved him.
That's something you can't understand.
But it happens that way.
No matter what people are.
You sound as if you really mean that.
But you're a little late, aren't you?
He's not dead.
I'm sure he is.
He's not. He's really in trouble.
What do you mean by that?
I found something here in the files that Dick left.
Just in case spicy got to him first.
What is it?
A confession to Mickey Linerhand's murder.
That's impossible.
Were you there?
What are you going to do with it?
Turn it over to the police.
What if he's still alive?
It's still counts.
Unless he shows and revokes it.
But I don't think he will.
Why?
Because I want back up a self-defense play on the spicy shooting.
But you were Dick's friend.
You were his friend.
I wouldn't ask him to do it for me.
Then what can I do for him?
I'll do anything, anything, anything at all.
Well, I don't know if he stays away.
He's as good as dead.
He comes back, you get a jury trial.
If there are more men than women in the panel,
they'd probably be acquitted on your testimony alone.
You really think he might have a chance?
Well, the jury has always a chance.
But where is he?
How can I get word to him?
Well, if he's not fish food by now,
there's one sure way of smoking him up.
Nothing I can do.
Nobody else.
Please tell me anything.
Signing confession of your own.
Confession?
Not Mickey Linerhan's murder.
Anything they might nail you for.
It's where that you shot spicy.
What?
You can always run egg.
Make both of you look good, sacrificing for each other.
How about it?
All right.
Tell me what to write.
I did.
She signed it.
I had every dispassion to all the papers and new services.
And then I brought it down to the halt.
Naturally, you didn't believe a word of her confession, Vandy.
But when I took you aside and explained my strategy,
you endorsed it hardly and had her book.
She pressed my hand and thanked me.
The look of resignation on her face was so real.
It was hard to believe she was faking.
But she turned her back to follow the matron down the corridor.
I saw why.
On the back of her coat, there was a smear of white paint.
I remembered the wet paint signs on the Oakland Ferry boat.
Dick Foley gave himself up an hour after her confession hit the street.
Screams and yelled at everybody in homicide trying to convince them
that Maxine was innocent and he should take the full wrap.
And I'm afraid I cleared that when we confronted him
with the autopsy surgeon's report.
He tried to bluff even then when he read it.
Tell it, I ended right side between third and fourth ribs penetrated, left lung.
Tell it, be poor membrane, side wound, punch it.
So watch him.
All three in the right side angling up, you see?
No.
I don't know why.
You even saw me on that boat.
You saw me throw the gun over.
Oh, cut it out, Dick.
What I saw was in the dark.
But you two men were facing each other directly.
If I were going to drop a man fast, a close range face to face like that,
I would not put the gun in my left hand,
twisted around, straining my wrist in the process,
and pulled the trigger with my thumb.
Unless I were left handed, double-jointed, and a trickiest shot than you are.
I'd blast him straight through the middle.
All right.
All right, yes, it was Maxine.
Well, that's good.
Maybe you can get cured now.
Why don't you open up some more?
Let me put it down like it was a business.
All right, sir.
Number one, Maxine killed your partner Mickey Lannahan five years ago,
probable motive to eliminate him and send Spicer up for it.
Yeah, yeah, she...
She didn't figure on Spicer being smart enough to confess to the robbery,
and that's halibut for the murder.
Two, you prejudge yourself to clear Maxine of the murder.
Motive to prevent the truth about your partner from coming out,
and Maxine was motive enough for anything.
Cut it out, will you?
Sorry.
Three, Spicer forced you to team up with him in the jewelry house.
How?
Well, he threatened to make a folk confession
as accessory to Mickey's killing.
I put the whole works on Maxine and leave him in the clear.
Yeah, can't be tried twice for the same crime.
Four, you decided to rub out Spicer whether you could beat the rap
or not, and clear the books once and for all.
So you pretended to play along with him, told Maxine to do the same,
and called me in his empire.
Yeah, yeah, I'm...
Sam, I'm sorry, I...
I couldn't lay off Maxine.
Why did you have to...
Well, I thought you were my friend.
And that's about it.
Curried?
And the friendship.
Oh.
You mean the confession that you tricked her into making?
Turned out to...
That's it, Abby.
Oh.
What'll happen to him?
Huh?
What about Dick Foley?
Dick?
Oh, they got him on a number of things, I suppose.
Make it clear.
Oh, they got him on a number of things, I suppose.
They take some time on him.
But I think you'll be an okay guy again.
With her out of the way.
With her out of the way?
Sam.
Go on, type it up.
Whether it's late, I'm going to get out of here.
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What's here, Sam?
I know how you must feel, so I won't...
What's your hurry?
Well, I thought then, well, you know how you always feel.
Look, sweetheart, Dick Foley was a private dick.
So what?
You mean you can bring yourself to talk about it?
Sure. Go ahead, try me.
Well, Sam, it seems terribly complicated.
I suppose because Mr. Foley was in the profession
and he thinks like you do.
Up to a point, Abby.
What's bothering you?
Well, why did he call you in?
You are another private detective.
And you have smart who aren't all in.
Yeah.
I don't know, maybe.
Well, if I turned up anything, I'd look the other way.
Do you think I could ever happen to you, Sam?
That's a clever phrase you dictated.
He called me in as umpire.
That's baseball.
But if he was so clever, why didn't he win, Sam?
His mistake, Abby, was trying a quadruple play
which has never been heard of in the history of baseball or crime.
All he wanted was to bat Maxine home safe.
But he usually figures when three men are out the side with Tyres.
Oh, well, I don't understand baseball, Sam.
Man, that's all right.
Football will be here soon, anyway.
But I don't know.
Tonight, Levy.
Good night, sweetheart.
The Adventures of Sam Spade,
that shall have its famous private detective
are produced and directed by William Spear.
Sam Spade is played by Howard Dove.
Lorraine Tuttle is Fee.
The Adventures of Sam Spade are written for radio
by Bob Solman and Gill Dowd,
musical direction by Ludgluskin,
with score composed by Renee Garragang.
Join us again next Sunday,
one author, Dashal Hamad,
and producer William Spear joined forces
for another adventure with Sam Spade.
Brought to you by Wildroot Cream Oil.
Again and again, the choice of men
who put good grooming first.
This is Dick Joy, reminding you to...
Jet Wildroot Cream Oil, Charlie.
He keep her hair in trim.
You see it's not alcoholic, Charlie.
It's made with silver ladle in.
You better get Wildroot Cream Oil, Charlie.
Sound using it today.
You'll find it.
You will have a tough time, Charlie.
Keep it on the guard the way.
Hi, you ballie.
Get Wildroot right away.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
