Loading...
About this Episode
https://www.solgoodmedia.com - Listen to hundreds of audiobooks, thousands of short stories, and ambient sounds all ad free! Detective Radio is your daily source for pulse-pounding mysteries and crime-solving adventures, keeping you hooked every episode.
Hosts & Guests
Transcript
The adventurers of Sam Spade detected, brought to you by Wildrood Cremoyle
Heratonic, the non-alcoholic heratonic that contains ladle and wildrood Cremoyle.
Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first.
Sam Spade detected agency.
Parodydene, anything wrong, you sound almost human.
It's not Bernadine Sam, it's me, Alfie.
Yes.
But I'll tell Bernadine about the compliment.
How are things?
Well, I've made out as best I could.
I don't want you to think that I have begrudged you with vacation.
After all you have worked hard, you did deserve it.
Sam Spade, is that all you have to say to me?
I am not putting the blame on you after all it is a state law.
So I can hardly accuse you of letting me down at a time when I needed you most.
You might at least ask me if I had a good time.
I'm sorry if you're conscious about it.
Oh, well, it didn't.
I had a divine time and I met all sorts of interesting people.
Mostly men.
You don't say.
What else?
Well, it was just desert ranch, you know, with a lot of buttes around.
Buttes around?
You mentioned those.
No, Sam.
No, no, no.
They're the result of erosion.
Those outdoor types.
They go to pieces.
Sam, are you pulling my leg?
Not over the phone, Alfie.
But stay away.
I'll be right down.
The look at your snapshots.
And when you have the time, I'll dictate my report on the missing news hawk caver.
Dr. Mohamed, America's leading detective fiction writer and creator of Sam Spade,
a hard-boiled private eye, and William Spear, radios outstanding producer, director of mystery
and crime drama.
Join their talents to make your hair stand on end with the adventures of Sam Spade.
Presented by the makers of wildroot cream oil for the hair.
Wildroot cream oil.
That's the famous name to remember men next time you buy hair tonic.
And look what wildroot cream oil does for you.
It grooms your hair neatly and naturally.
Wildroot cream oil also relieves dryness and removes loose ugly dandruff.
Yes, men, wildroot cream oil is your shortcut to really handsome hair.
So be smart.
First chance you get, get wildroot cream oil hair tonic.
Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first.
And now with Howard Duff starring as Spade, wildroot brings to the air the greatest private detective of them all.
In the adventures of Sam Spade.
Sam Spade.
Sam Spade.
Just outside of Kanab on Virgin River.
Kanab the Pearl of the West.
Uh-huh.
And did I mention the views?
Oh, the very interesting.
The result of erosion.
Yes.
And it's authentic too.
Say Hamlin's ranch.
You mean a working ranch?
Yes, you see that where you get into spirit.
My job was to feed the chickens.
And that's how I met him.
One of the beauties.
Oh, Sam, he's a very cultured gentleman.
Culture smoker.
What's he though for a living?
He's your family.
You don't say.
What's his name?
Charlie Shank.
Charlie Shank.
He's the founder of the Shank Institute of Articulative Correction, which I should learn.
Articulative Correction.
Where is this institute?
Oh, I have the address here.
General's a library.
Butte Montcana.
You're sure you didn't have any break parole, Abby?
Oh, no, no, no.
We just went on long walks together.
Where to?
Oh, in different places, isn't it?
Like Wolf Canyon.
Check it.
Uh-huh.
He invited me on this camping ship, a trip.
Honorable, of course.
But I couldn't go on account of my son, though.
Oh.
I was awful, awful.
I still got it to see.
And then he went back to Butte.
He had a lead in such a hurry.
He couldn't even say goodbye.
Whoa.
It was a pity, too, because an old friend he hadn't seen in years came looking for him.
Just a few minutes later.
With a warrant?
No.
Well, he was an attendant in a nearby hospital.
Mental?
Oh, yes.
Very intelligent.
He read me some of his poetry.
Maybe you've heard it.
Um...
A loaf of bread.
A jug of wine.
And thou.
Oh, wait a minute.
Isn't that the ruby out of Omer Cayenne that was written by a guy named Fitzgerald?
Of course.
That's his pen name.
Quite a pen name.
Yes.
But he said his debt to society.
And the other time it was a bad beef.
Oh, no.
He told me all about it.
He cried on my shoulder afterwards.
Sweetheart, when you make a mistake, it's a beauty.
Damn.
Nothing happened.
Well, I'm glad he cured you of Sam Ring anyhow.
Ready?
Oh, yeah.
I got a brand new...
Well, you know.
Life goes on.
I got a brand new notebook, Sam.
I'll just turn over a new leaf.
Not a bad idea, dear.
Uh, date, uh, July 18th, too.
Mr. Alex M. Youngla.
A beam.
Try it again.
Mr. Alex M. Youngblood.
PO Box 317 San Francisco.
From Samuel Spay.
Life is number 17596.
Dear Missy Young.
But I need a vacation myself.
You need Charlie Payne.
Yeah.
Sounds hard.
Fortunately, until I met you, my only experience with any of the men and women who make
your newspaper run.
And then with one of your corner newsboys, who shorechains me two times, within as many days.
I have not read your rag since.
But your name looked imposing, and so did the $300 check upon which you had written it.
Per your instructions, properly at 4 p.m. on the 50th inst.
I must through the letter of your city room, called a doormark A.M. Youngblood, publisher,
managing editor, and city editor.
I wanted it if you were ambitious, frugal, or free men.
I did not know that you had good faith until I saw the primordiation truths in the secretary in your other office.
Hello.
You're new here, aren't you?
Well, I'm not exactly here.
I'm just here to see Mr. Youngblood.
My name is Spay.
Samuel Spay?
Sam, except for my most enemy friend.
Well, my advice to you, Sam, is to be the hastier you treat.
He's in a foul movie.
Oh.
Why is he blind or older than he fails?
I refer, of course, to your spectacular charm, if I may call you, miss.
Please, this is neither the time of the play.
My name is Philip Watson, and my phone number is in the directory, if you're really interested.
I could be.
Thank you.
And if a man answers, tell him you're my French teacher.
We...
You better go in now.
If you're late to an appointment with him, you're through.
You have any more words of wisdom?
No.
But I hope you can do something to improve his state of mind.
He's been awful lately.
Good luck, Sam.
Thank you, Philip Watson.
Come in, come in.
I'm gonna pass four.
You must be Mr. Spade.
That's right.
You're almost late.
Sit down, Spade.
Sit down.
No thanks.
Well, don't expect me to offer a drink.
You aren't a drinker, I hope.
You don't listen to the radio, do you?
Well, you'll not drink in this office.
Nothing here but a cooler filled with water for the clean, gurgling, laughing, mountain stream.
You sound like a reformed drunk, Mr. England.
What's that?
Well, it was good many years ago.
If you don't mind, I'll just paste up the weather report for my morning edition before we talk.
Oh, you do that, too, huh?
Yes, obviously.
And with good reasons.
I remind myself that I was once a cup of oil.
And I find a splendid way to at least once each day to lower myself to the level of the working man.
There we are.
A hot and Phoenix, I see.
Just what do you want to detect before, Mr. England?
I was coming to that, Mr. Spade.
Sorry.
Well, at first, let me warn you that your assignment is a highly confidential one.
They all are.
In this case, the man's life may be at stake.
The situation.
My newspaper at my order, under my guidance, has launched a campaign against crime.
Not aimed at the petty criminal, but at the easy-living leeches at the controls of the rackets.
The hoods and bankers clothing.
The mansion house parasites who direct the pickpockets, the second storymen, the housebreakers, who gamble away.
Yeah, they can be here.
And pay in contact.
And don't go to the beach.
Yes, I understand.
I understand.
You're after the boys on the safer side of the fences.
Well, there.
Nicely put, Spade.
Thank you.
Well, the long and short of it is this.
The author of the expose series, Ray McCulley, my top crime reporter, has been missing for two days.
I want you to find it.
What makes you think he's still alive?
Good heavens, Spade.
Why does he suggest that he isn't?
Because if I were a mansion house parasite and danger of being unhoused by a news hawk, I'd see said news hawk standing in a cement block in the bottom of the bay.
I will accept that only when no stone has been left unturned.
Every storm, every haystack has been searched.
Every...
And no concranny?
Yes.
Sounds as though you need at least one police force, Mr. Youngblood.
No, no, no, no.
Impossible.
We've already had a brush with the police over the expose.
I'll not be dictated to at this stage of the game.
I started this investigation, I'll finish it alone.
Well, it's a pretty big order, Mr. Youngblood.
But, uh, times that tough, I'll see what I can do.
Good.
I hear by turn over to you all the resources and power of this Spine newspaper.
When one of my reporters is in trouble or danger, sir,
I will spend every penny of my fortune of necessary
to deliver aid and sucker to his side.
You then gave me Ray McCulley's expose stories to date.
I saw why you, as family and friends of his creditors,
could have been worried about.
They were hot.
One followed a stolen car from the time of a heist
through the alteration of the body color,
fire brands, license number,
motor serial number,
but the time it was shoved on to a used car line.
They named names all the way through.
And the mother did the same to the firm of potter,
badger, and mold, purience,
and the alleged manufacturers of coats from ploughed pelts.
Ray McCulley had dropped out of sight
right after that story had been published.
So I left your office hoping that I'd reach the address
of otter badger and mold before closing time.
I did.
The plushie showroom was occupied
by a dozen attractive fur-bearing models, female,
but waxed.
The live models, male,
were wearing padded shoulders, pointed shoes,
and coats tailored for underarm artillery.
They would have looked more natural
at Madame Fassad's wax works,
but from the burglar section.
Hey, oh, hey, what a big something to do with women.
Where do I find Mr. Otter?
You're the law.
Leo's something.
He's in his office.
Come on.
Oh, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Don't crowd me.
You say you want to see a boss?
On business.
Stop nudging me with a rod.
In there.
Hey, move.
Okay, okay.
Hey, your boss.
Yes, Woody?
Here's a Joe here to see you.
Leo sent him.
Oh, nudging me.
Woody.
No, nudging me.
Well, well, well.
So Leo's sending a man to see me.
I wonder why?
If your calmness character here out of my hair,
I'll try and tell you.
Sit down, Woody.
Thanks.
You're new in town.
Yeah, that's why Leo sent me a local muckregor named Ray McCulley interviewed you.
He also interviewed Leo, but it didn't get printed yet.
Leo wants to find him.
So do I.
How can I help?
Well, he walked out of here, went to his hotel, wrote the story, and mailed it in.
That's the last anybody's seen him.
Leo was just sort of hoping that you'd already taken care of him.
Not yet.
That's all I wanted to know.
Thanks.
Just a moment.
Yeah?
Leo's sending you out alone.
Why not?
That's a tough boy that McCulley's got plenty of protection.
That's what you need.
What kind of protection?
Go along with him, Woody.
Who me?
Your Woody, aren't you?
Oh, look.
Look, Mr. Rodder.
I don't want to look at gift horse in the mouth.
But the way I see it, this is a long wolf-type cable.
Hey, what's the matter?
How do you think I'm too good for you?
Well, Woody, I wouldn't say that.
Good.
It's better than take care of him, Woody.
And don't mix it up with any of Leo's boys.
If he's out to get that rat McCulley, he's our friend.
I was beginning to wonder who Leo was.
I'd grabbed the name off a calendar on the wall.
Leo's a van and story.
I didn't know whether he was the Leo Mr. Otter didn't like
and I hoped I wouldn't find out.
The best way I could think to keep him finding out
was to shake Woody.
On the way up town, I walked him past four police stations,
crossing Market Street.
I pushed him straight into the arms of a traffic cop
who begged his pardon and let me offer the warning.
At the blue bottle bar and grill, I gave Joe the bartender
the Mickey Finn sign.
But what he liked it, he ordered another one.
And he said he knew a place on Columbus
where the drinks were even better.
It was called Leo's place.
I wondered if that meant anything.
Hey, Leigh.
Oh, me, huh?
I want you to drink.
Would you like to drink?
Ah, sure.
It's fine.
When I get anywhere though.
I'm gonna really take your wig serious.
Maybe when I go gun for somebody, I go where I'm least likely
to succeed.
Do you live on it?
Yes.
Uh, Woody, what do you know about this guy, McCulley?
You were here to pull us, he said he's all right.
And how about he said he's got plenty of protection?
I was punishing him.
Why did you see that?
Bull, Leo's pulling.
Look at what just working.
I watched.
What I saw was not disappointing.
He was wearing a simple black satin with a plunging neckline
and the new look only in places where it didn't matter.
But she still looked enough like your secretary
who pulled us blossom to be out of place and Leo's place.
She didn't stay that long.
She made a b-line through the kitchen to the rear exit.
I made a b-line right after.
Woody was breathing down my neck as I started up the rig at the outside
stairway at the back of the building.
I stopped the landing and signed around the face.
See you later, Woody.
I didn't wait to see if he made it all the way to the bottom of the stairs.
I was more interested in what was going on at the top.
Adore it open and fill us just inside.
The man who let her in looked like Ray McCulley.
Who are you?
The name is Spade.
I don't know that name.
Your boss hired me to find you.
Private Dick?
Yeah.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
Sure.
Put your hands behind your neck and walk up slow.
Okay.
All right.
Go inside.
What's the matter?
You're not acting glad to see me.
This is a guy, fellas.
Yes.
Alex hired him this afternoon.
There you see now.
What do you want me to tell young one?
You're not going to tell anybody.
You're not going to tell anybody.
You're not going to tell anybody.
It caught me right behind the ear.
The last thing I saw was that plunging neckline
as full as rushed forward.
I didn't know whether she was rushing to my rescuer
to get in a few licks of her own.
Five seconds later, I didn't care.
If the design of a linoleum slammed up at me,
I had just time to wonder why
of all the people who were looking for Ray McCulley
I had to find him.
And I was out.
Boy.
Mace for my pains.
The makers of wildroot cream oil are presenting
the weekly Sunday adventure
of the actual Hammett's famous private detective,
Sam Spade.
If you want the well-groomed look
that helps you get ahead socially and on the job,
listen.
Recently, thousands of people from coast to coast
to bought wildroot cream oil for the first time
were asked primates and removes loose dandruff.
What's more, non-alcoholic wildroot cream oil
is the only leading herotonic
that contains soothing lannolin.
So ask for wildroot cream oil hairotonic.
Again and again, the choice of men
who put good grooming first.
By the way, smart girls use wildroot cream oil too
and mothers say it's grand for training children's hair.
And now, back to the missing NewsVog
paper tonight's adventure with Sam Spade.
I was lying on the floor in a room of nothing in it
but a sink and army caught the square
of dirty lannolin and a body.
I staggered on my feet, ran some cold water over my head
and took a closer look.
It was Ray McCulley.
He was a very dead, presiding reporter.
He'd been stabbed clean through
with a long, bladed kitchen knife
and set on the handle property of Leo's place.
I went through his pockets and his wallet
had pressed card, a police card, union card
and ten genuine, crisp, new thousand dollar bills.
I gave me a line on the killer.
It was crazy.
So was I.
I left it on him too.
Folded up in his best pocket, I found two newspaper clippings,
one from the Chronicle and one from your paper.
Both weather reports for the same date.
It was very hot and thin,
according to both papers.
But according to your weather report,
the temperature in Needles, California
was 135 degrees.
That needled me.
So did this slip of paper I found on his shoe.
The number nine and a date had been stamped on it
with a rubber stamp.
The date was the same as that of the weather reports.
I turned it over.
It said Ruthie's booth, Manson Bowling alley.
The
penicillin, the penicillin,
with dolls. You know for the bed only a dollar plus pack. Very reasonable. Say what's
on your mind? Leo sent me. Oh, are you going to collect the slits here after? Well,
not tonight to see I'm sort of a troubleshoot. Leo's checking up on some of the numbers
that didn't come out right. Listen, I'll tell him to his safe. I don't want any part
of those wrong numbers. They're scary. And that's who bought this one. Let me see. I'll
laugh thirsty. Off number nine. How can I forget? He put $500. And honest, if he's been
around once, he's been around a hundred times to see if it paid off. Did it? What's his
learn? Let's just finale. He buys a slip every day. And if you ask me, he's learned
a system because he's been winning, you know, dimes in the dollar and then $5. And then
when he come in with $500, on number nine, I know that we dropped it. Did it win?
What does it look like? It did. Wait, I'll look on the sheet. Hey, somebody else was in
just this afternoon. Give me that address, hurry up. Let's ride around the corner on
Manson 810. Say maybe that's his system. 8 and 1. Don't get that up to 9. Hey, what's
the matter? Why are you going in such a way? Please, come back later. Small, next week. Are
you Mrs. Spanelli? Yes, please. I took that trouble. Is your husband home? Oh, my poor
man. They take him away. He's dead. Oh, I'm sorry. How did it happen? Who are you? I'm
Detective. Maybe I can help you. There I come in. Come on. It took quite a while to gain
a confidence. And after that, it took still quite a while to piece together the grease
second grumble of words that poured out of it. When I got it down in the form of a statement,
I asked her to read it over. Item, statement by Mrs. Artero Spanelli. All the time he
played those numbers. I told him they're just a bunch of gangsters. They don't let you
win. Many met this man McCulley. I write for the newspaper. I haven't said this man
shows him how to win. He wins and wins. Then he goes to bank and takes up all our savings.
I had begged for him not to do it. But no, no, he was greedy. And this McCulley poisoned
his mind. Sure, he won. He brought the money home in his hand. 10,000 dollars. I thought
what? I'm scared. I took it while he was sleeping with wine and gave it to the men. I'd
tell him all I want is a five hundred. It's right to tell me we don't go. We help catch
the big gangsters. I say we don't want to do so good. We get murdered in our van. So
he says, OK. But if I change mine here at the end, I don't change my mind because already
my husband can't stand at home. Stand. No, I don't change my mind.
He signed it and I left her alone with her great. I wasn't working for you anymore,
Mr. Young Life. I had me to find your reporter and I had and I wished I hadn't. The rest of
it I did for myself. You weren't in your office when I got there, but Phyllis was. I
found him behind the city desk in the act of driving the moral morning's weather report
into the slot. I grabbed it out of a hand. Oh, you. Where's your boss? Oh, my
girl. Well, talking his office. Come on. Sam, I can explain how I am. You're going
to explain plenty before I'm finished with you. Sit on. I have to be so rough. What's
the matter with you? Plenty. I'm stupid. I was stupid to take this job and I was stupid
to play a cagey with you. I should have beaten the story out of you before the trouble
started. It's a little late in the day now, but not too late to send you up on McCulley's
murder. You're insane. They McCulley with honey, only one who ever tried to help me.
And I'm the only one who can place you in that room, not 10 minutes before the murder.
I told you I can explain why trying to save your own skin. Spinelli was only one of
a half million poor dumb yucks that lose their nickels and dimes and dollars every day
in the policy racket. Only he had the bad luck to win. There won't be any more lucky
dead people like him if I have to make a patchy out of you to stop it. It won't stop
it. Nothing will rate off big and brave like you. Now he's dead. Yeah, with 10,000
bucks dirty money in his wallet. I won't let you say things like that. Ray was an honest
reporter, true honest. He thought young blood meant what he said about that cleanup campaign.
Yeah, he did. He wanted to run this town by himself, clean up his competition. When
Ray started collecting material on the numbers, racquet, he still thought young blood was
on the level. But that was before he stumbled onto the thing about the weather report. Yeah,
yeah, that was a no. And the old Dutch shulksmob just to add up the stock market quotations.
They cheated. They knew their customers weren't good enough at arithmetic to prove it. But
who knows how hard of his and fanny, unless they live there. I don't know what you're talking
about. Listen, that's how the number game works, sweetheart. The suckers pick a number
for 1 to 10. See the operators carry up the sleds in the least popular for that day has
to win. The weather report doesn't have to pass through the copy desk and with young blood
tasting it up with a few strategic corrections. It was easy to make their winners look as
if they were on the level. But of course, you have no way of knowing that. You only watched
them do it day after day. You know, I couldn't understand why he did those things. It's
been silly falsifying a weather report, but it didn't seem as if it could do any. What
is your meat McCulley for? It gets your cut of the 10 grants penalty was killed for. How
dare you. I went there to warn him about who killed him. I don't know. You're lying.
All right, I'm lying. But I can prove that Ray was on the level. I've got the proof
right here. The whole story he wrote on the numbers. I could even naming young blood as
ahead of it is own publisher. I went there to get it. I was going to take it to another
newspaper. Why didn't you? I can't tell you that. You don't have to. Mrs. Spanelli was confused
grief craze. She had to put the blame on somebody and when she did she got her revenge the
only way she thought she could. She may have been right about that, but she killed the
wrong man. Why didn't you tell me you knew who killed Ray? I wanted to give you a chance
to tell me yourself. I'm glad you didn't. And that was the young blood as the crop. I'm
sure you appreciate the fact that I gave the double scoop to your paper. Like Mrs. Spanelli,
I have my own ideas of vengeance. Besides it may up your circulation a little and you can
certainly use a little extra money for your defense. Uh, by the way, who's Leo? Period and
the report. Yes, Debbie. I thought Mrs. Denali killed Ray McCulley. The vacation helped your
absolutely correct. Mrs. Spanelli killed Mr. McCulley if you'll pardon the expression.
Why did she kill her husband? I was wrong. The vacation didn't help. You mean she didn't?
She killed McCulley to avenge the murder of her husband. You mean Mr. McCulley killed Mr.
Spanelli? F.E. Stop our gold mad. Oh, you need a vacation save. What?
Tight that up. The clatter of the keys may stimulate you to further cerebral activity.
Are they your pardon, Sam? Brain work. Now shoot. Oh, brain work. Oh, you know better.
Tonight, man, or first thing tomorrow, get wildroot cream oil and see what wonders it does for your
hair. Notice how easy it is to apply. Notice what a neat natural job it does of grooming your hair.
Notice too how effectively wildroot cream oil relieves annoying dryness and removes loose ugly
dandruff. No getting around it. Once you try it, you'll never be without it. So tonight,
or first thing tomorrow, call at your drug or toilet goods counter for wildroot cream oil.
Get the big economy bottle and a handy new tube that's easy to pack when you travel.
Also, ask your barber for a professional application of wildroot cream oil hair tonic.
Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first.
And you were absolutely right. The typing cleared my mind. It's all clear now except for one thing.
Well, let's clear that up right away. Why did Mrs. Spinelli kill her husband?
She did not kill her husband. I'm sorry. I mean, why did Mr. McCulley kill Mr. Spinelli?
Kelly did not kill Spinelli. Who's Kelly? McCulley. McCulley's real name was Kelly.
Well, let's start all over again. Just regard everything we set up until now.
Make your mind a complete blank. All right, Sam. In the first place, McCulley did not kill Spinelli.
What I said, it was his wife, wasn't it? Now, wasn't it, Sam?
Oh, stop teasing me. Hey, why do you look at me like that?
Effie, Mr. Spinelli was killed by one of the policy rackets hoods to get back the 10 grand
he won on the numbers game. Then how did the money get into Kelly's pocket?
McCulley's. Why do you insist on using his alien space?
Effie, that was a tip of the slinger. I mean, what? Mrs. Spinelli took up the
him because she was afraid her husband might be killed for it.
Why didn't they kick the money when they killed him?
Because Mrs. Spinelli had already taken it. Then she did kill him.
The whole, Effie. All right, Sam. I'm sorry. I'm so irritable to you, but I thought it was
as long since I've been here. You're not a fan of that.
You're not an angel. You're just tired. Vacations have a habit of doing that.
So you're after a week or so in the office, you'll be all rested up again.
I'll take it. You act as though you thought my mind were a fake.
Sam, now don't lie, sunburgring.
Oh, it hurts.
It's nice to have you back. You look good too.
All tanned and healthy, you're roofed. It's great.
I think my nose is feeling good. Well, don't trek out of it.
Good night, Sam. Good night, sweetheart.
The Adventures of Sam Spade,
the actual Hammett's famous private detective,
offered used and directed by William Spear.
Sam Spade is played by Howard Dove.
Lorraine Tuttle is Effie.
The Adventures of Sam Spade are written for radio by Bob Tallman and Gildoud
with musical direction by Ludgluskin.
Gildoud directed tonight's broadcast of William Spear's episodes.
Join us again next Sunday 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...
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
