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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.
Hosts & Guests
Transcript
Hi, this is Alex Cantrowitz. I'm the host of Big Technology Podcast, a long-time reporter and an on-air contributor to CNBC.
And if you're like me, you're trying to figure out how artificial intelligence is changing the business world and our lives.
So each week on Big Technology, I bring on key actors from companies building AI tech and outsiders trying to influence it,
asking where this is all going. They come from places like Nvidia, Microsoft, Amazon, and plenty more.
So if you want to be smart with your wallet, your career choices, and meetings with your colleagues, and at dinner parties,
listen to Big Technology Podcast wherever you get your podcasts.
Every day the world gets a little weirder, and a lot more awesome.
Cool stuff daily takes a look at everything from mining and space to the latest in the fight against cancer to how AI is basically changing everything.
It's all the cool stuff you didn't know you needed to know.
Join us for cool stuff daily as we take a quick look at science, tech, and the wait, what stories that make you sound way smarter at dinner.
Subscribe to cool stuff daily now because the future is happening fast and it's way too fun to miss.
Hi, this is Alex Cantrowitz. I'm the host of Big Technology Podcast, a long-time reporter and an on-air contributor to CNBC.
And if you're like me, you're trying to figure out how artificial intelligence is changing the business world and our lives.
So each week on Big Technology, I bring on key actors from companies building AI tech and outsiders trying to influence it.
Asking where this is all going. They come from places like Nvidia, Microsoft, Amazon, and plenty more.
So if you want to be smart with your wallet, your career choices, and meetings with your colleagues, and at dinner parties,
listen to Big Technology Podcast wherever you get your podcasts.
The adventures of Sam Spade Detectives brought to you by Wildrood Cream Oil Heratonic,
the non-alcoholic heratonic that contains Latterland. Wildrood Cream Oil, again and again the choice of men who put good grooming first.
Sam Spade Detective Agency?
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 down and dictate my report on a Dick Foley Caper.
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And now, with Howard Duff starring at Spade, Wild Root brings to the air the greatest private detective of them all,
in the adventures of Sam Spade.
I'm not sure.
Always here, Sam, let me in.
Am I that shaky?
Stay when.
Just for the top of the glass.
Not yet 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.
You can label as, oh, a file on Dick Foley.
Date, fill it in.
Yes, Sam.
To, uh, Dundee at homicide, I guess, from, uh, Samuel Spade, license number three, seven, five, nine, six.
The facts are all here.
If you can dig a formal statement out of it, you're welcome.
I'm not sure.
I'm not sure.
I'm not sure.
I'm not sure.
I'm not sure.
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 Linerhan and I.
Then he and Mickey open their own office, Foley and Linerhan, 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 when the last half of a dozen years,
just I have a drink and chew the fat about the good old days.
You never talked about his private life, and 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, no.
Michelle, are you coming back after lunch?
Oh, uh, uh, Sam, this is Maxine, my wife.
Oh, no, you don't deserve it, but I'm happy for you.
I'll return the compliment, 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 chair, Sam.
Sit down.
Oh.
Uh, what's on your mind, Dick?
You remember Claude Spicer that...
Drifter I sent over for that jewelry store hike back in 43?
You never told me you were married, Dick.
And very happily married, now please pay attention.
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 got in for you?
You hid it.
How scared of mine.
Well, I have to ask you for help, Sam.
What's evening? Just revenge?
Sam, I wouldn't tell us to anybody, but you were.
But all the facts are that Kepa didn't come out of that time.
Uh, I, uh, sort of it.
How come?
Well, I couldn't have stayed in business in San Francisco.
I've been generally known that my partner was the inside man on a jewelry store hike.
Mickey?
Yeah, Mickey Linerhan.
Ah, you and I are both great at choosing partners, Sam.
They both deserve what they got.
What's the 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.
Let's be waiting for him.
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.
He's been on the building for a couple of days, but he stayed in his room. I think he spotted me.
Okay, Dick, I'll give it a buzz.
Wait a minute, Sam. Yeah.
I'm not asking you to do this for love.
Standard fee, 25 and whiskey money.
Okay.
Forget it. This one's on me.
In the Belvedere on my way out, I studied a picture of Claude Spicer on the old police circuit of Dick had given me.
But a picture in the back of my mind kept getting in the way.
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 in an adjacent cafe?
Whatever you say. I don't want Dick to know.
Then you should have invited the detective.
Please, Sam.
How's this, black watch?
Yeah.
Looks dark enough.
Well, that bullet in the corner, it's the Claude.
Why not?
Slide in.
I don't know over here still, but not facing the street.
Oh, sorry. Not much good at 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 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.
I'm not sensitive 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.
It 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.
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 Wendy'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, Mike.
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?
I guess 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,
and he stepped him off.
Around four in the p.m., Spicer went out, very dressed up.
Umbrella, gloves and all.
He walked down Geary to Grant and turned north.
The cold San Francisco drizzle started blowing up in the bay.
I wish they'd brought my other coat.
A half a block up in California and he entered Grayson's jewelry store.
I picked through the Rain Street show in the bathroom.
Inside, pouring eagerly through a playful of diamond clips
while a long-suffering clerk either hopelessly
from his side of the counter was the Actress Lovely.
Maxine shot Spicer at quick glance of recognition as he entered, but they didn't speak.
He took up a pose of genuinely patient, struck 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 broad 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,
a 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 and then followed her out.
As I took out after him, I stopped to read the sticker on the inside of a glass door.
It said,
these premises protected by Dick Corley detective agency.
Maxine was waiting for him at the corner.
I grabbed up a Chinese newspaper and used it to listen behind,
even the bother. 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.
Don't leave.
I'm going to get some sleep. I'll need a clear head.
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 Belvedere.
No stops.
He picked up his key at the desk. No messages.
Looked the elevator to the eighth floor.
Let himself in the room 8.09.
Hang out to do not disturb sign.
Close the locked door behind.
I kept a plan on it till around midnight.
Then I left it to do not disturb cards from the door.
And I've been wedged into the crack of the door.
It was a crafty move.
And I had just finished doing it craftfully
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 Gallup 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?
Hello.
I picked up the do not disturb card
and wedged it back into the crack of his door.
There's only house signals, except the cork 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.
Fall was quiet on the eighth floor.
From the elevator bank,
I could see room 809.
The morning paper was shoved under his door,
and might do not disturb sign,
was apparently where I had planted it.
I took thought up to make sure.
Huh?
Boy, what do you want?
Uh, me?
Paperboy, sir.
You're morning paper.
You get around.
Oh, wow.
Good news in the paper, sir.
Interesting. Interesting.
You'll restore 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 the sweat.
Claude Spicer was aboard,
and so was I.
It 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 long.
I couldn't make out any features
in the man who came up and joined.
They stood face to face,
not one on a foot apart,
and talked in voices that couldn't get to me
through the racket of a fog once in 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 spicy.
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's spin out over the rail as he threw it.
What?
Oh, it's you, sir.
How is the frigid lurking?
What did you do it for, Dick?
I had my reason to say,
now trust me.
I'll keep you in the clear.
How long?
As long as I go on playing soccer for you?
What do you think I hired you for?
Any other supposed to say
you killed him in self-defense?
Maybe I was supposed to see him making passes
as your wife if you needed that.
A fan you've got.
I've worked 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 sin.
It's for that cop, Dick.
I'm turning in when we get to open.
No, you're not saying that.
Dick, come back here.
Don't leave me.
I'm going over the side.
If you try to stop me, you'll go and win me.
A fall away from me got one foot over the rail,
and kicked out at me with the other.
It caught me on a point on the chin.
I stumbled forward,
and grabbed out blind.
I must have caught him by a belt to see 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 to meet me.
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And now back to the Dick Foley Caper,
tonight's adventure with Sam Spade.
I found myself mechanically keeping a close somehow,
and trying to get out of my coat.
I felt heavy and large,
but I swallowed gallons of water.
A merc on low and thick.
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 in a dozen different keys.
And they're in fire, fog homes.
I stopped swimming and floated on my back to either the turn of my whore of us.
After a while, I picked up the moaning, evenly spaced glass to the orchestra's siren.
They came out of the fog without direction,
seemed to beat down on me, and straight above.
I was somewhere in San Francisco Bay,
and that was all I knew,
and I suspected the current was sweeping me out toward the golden gate.
And I walked out of the window,
and I was sweeping me out toward the golden gate.
And I wiped it off ahead of me, started.
I was both splashing a few yards away.
I lifted my head and screamed.
But the both silent crying is warning,
ground out my shoves,
went on fast, and the fog closed in behind it.
Then I hit a new song,
Seagull.
I swam towards it,
and it seemed to get lighter.
Part of it was the long white beginning to cut through the fog blanket.
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 Seagull got off his hat and flew away.
And I got close to myself,
and it was not a man,
but only a bully,
a channel fighter.
I used all that I had left to drag myself up on the base of it,
and let it lock me to sleep.
Hey, hey, mate.
What's the matter with the brandy intro?
Yeah.
Here.
Get some of these done.
Where are we?
Hey, you didn't have them.
You can tell that by the smell.
Oh, fishing was warm.
Yeah, take it easy.
We've got ambulance coming.
We've got to get some of these done.
Fishing was warm.
Yeah, take it easy.
We've got ambulance coming.
You're 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 thank the two kindly old fishermen
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 pans and shells.
I did some stewing about the capers so far
and stewed up on a van and get a carry me through to the finish.
I checked the coast guards and news of Dick 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 under Foley's private had me so interested
that I didn't hear Maxine come in until she closed the door.
What are you looking for?
You, baby.
I'm for you.
I'm.
Come in.
I'm.
Nice.
Don't be mad, Maxine.
That guy makes a woman bulge in the wrong place.
It's not my gun.
Well, see.
I'm.
Shut up.
Now, starting with the rap spicy went up for the same pattern.
The way you work 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 Linerhan.
I don't know what spicy 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.
OK, I'll talk to myself.
I'm not saying you killed Mickey Linerhan,
but Dick did frame an alibi for you, didn't he?
Didn't he?
You're hurting me.
Good, by spending a night swimming around in circles
in the middle of the harbors 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 Linerhan 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.
If 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 Linerhan'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 won't 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 out.
Nothing I can do.
Nobody else.
Please tell me anything.
Sign a confession of your own.
Confession?
Not Mickey Linerhan's murder or anything they might need you for.
It's where that you shot spicy.
What?
You can always runnig.
Make both of you look good.
Sacrificing for each other.
How about it?
Hi.
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 asked you a side and explained my strategy,
you endorsed it hardly and had her book.
She pressed my hand and thanked me.
A look of resignation on a face that's 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.
And 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 him 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.
And he tried to bluff even then when he read it.
Call it A and it right side between third and fourth ribs penetrated left lung.
Call it B, plural membrane, side wound, punch it.
Well, so watch, Sam.
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 or 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 business.
All right, sir.
Number one, Maxine killed your partner Mickey Liner
hand five years ago, probable motive
to eliminate him and send Spicer up for it.
Yeah, yeah, she...
She didn't figure out Spicer being smart enough
to confess to the robbery, and that...
Alive item for the murder.
Two, you prejudge yourself to clear Maxine to the murder.
Motive?
To prevent the truth about your partner from coming out
and Maxine was motive enough for anything.
I got it out, will you?
Sorry.
Three, Spicer forced you to team up with him
in the jewelry house.
Well, he threatened to make a folk confession
as accessory to Mickey's killing.
Now, I would have 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 so happy.
Oh.
What'll happen to him?
Hmm?
What about Dick Foley?
Dick?
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 and type it up.
Whether it's late, I'm going to get out of here.
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Again and again, the choice of men and women and children too.
Well, here it is, Sam.
I know how you must see us.
I won't.
What's your hurry?
Well, I thought them.
Well, you know how you always see us.
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 a 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 he thought, man, if I turned up anything,
I'd look the other way.
Do you think that could ever happen to you, Sam?
That's a clever phrase indicated.
He called me in as umpire.
That's baseball.
But if he was so clever, why didn't he win?
His mistake, Abby, was trying a quadruple play,
which has never been heard of in the history of baseball or crime.
Paulie wanted with the bat-maxine home safe,
but he usually figures when three men are out the side of the tide.
Oh, well, I don't understand baseball, Sam.
Oh, that's all right.
Football will be here soon, anyway.
But I don't know.
Good night, Levy.
Good night, Sam.
Good night, sweetheart.
The adventurers of Sam's Bay,
National Hammond's famous private detective,
are produced and directed by William Spear.
Sam's Bay is played by Howard Dove.
Lorraine Tuttle is Effie.
The adventurers of Sam's Bay,
are written for radio by Bob Dolman and Gill Dowd.
Musical Direction by Lutt Gluskin,
with score composed by Renee Garragang.
Join us again next Sunday,
one author, National Hammond,
and producer William Spear, join forces
for another adventure with Sam's Bay,
brought to you by Wildroot Cremoyle.
Again and again, the choice of men
who put good grooming first.
This is Dick Joy, reminding you too.
Jet Wildroot Cremoyle, Charlie.
He keep your hair in trim.
You see it's not an alcoholic's Charlie.
It's made with silver ladle in.
You better get Wildroot Cremoyle, Charlie.
Sound using it today.
You'll find that you will have a tough time, Charlie.
Keep it on the gal the way.
Higher ballie, get Wildroot right away.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
