And now, tonight's presentation of Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Trails.  We call it The Murderous. So now, starring Kathy Lewis, here is tonight's suspense play, The Murderous. Earlier than she had thought she would. Purposely, she had gone to bed later the night before. Red later. Then to ensure the blessed passage of unconscious time. Taken something to make her sleep. Something to keep her from the slow morning hours. The bedside clock showed 8 a.m. But she knew it sometimes ran slow, and so she picked up the phone. In 30 seconds. Automatically, she adjusted the clock. And noted the ashtray overflowing with half-smoked cigarette stubs. 11 hours and two, three and a half minutes. Cheat the seconds and say, 11 hours and 15 minutes to then herself she would think today. I know I can't help thinking about it. It's silly to try and push it away. But I've got to occupy myself with every minute. Every second, then the time will pass. There's lots of things to do. And I'm lucky. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep at all. And I did get 5 hours. I'm lucky. She got out of bed. And knowing the morning paper would be lying outside her door. She perversely delayed the moment when she would bring it in. Instead, going to the kitchen and turning on the flame under the kettle. It was at that moment of brushing teeth. Washing face that she saw. For the first time that day the face in the mirror, her own. And she was drawn to it. Leaning close over the sink. Examining. Searching. Seeing in an instant a bright objectivity. Another face. A stranger. The fear they kept that way.  You killed somebody. Saw you. And when the face stared back on moon. She was afraid. And reached up to touch the face. To feel it. And know she was herself. And not the thing in the mirror. She was ready when she sat at the kitchen table to drink her tea. And opened the morning's newspaper. Mark 27. Margaret Bailey convicted slayer of her husband John Bailey. Is scheduled to die in the electric chair tonight at eight o'clock. After a lengthy trial and fruitless appeal. The attractive widow was still according to her attorney H. Hillman Adams. Maintaining her innocence. No official word has been received from the governor's office. But it's felt unlikely that a last minute reprieve will be forthcoming. Mrs.  Is reported to have spent last night in prayer. That's not a good thing to do. I'm not intrigued anymore. When I go out I won't look at the headlines on the newsstands. I won't listen to the news broadcast. Not today. That was very silly to read that. I wonder if I'd be praying. I wonder what she feels. Who is it? Laura. Good morning honey. Laura. Laura. I forgot you were coming today. If I had a nickel for every time I forgot. My henny used to say to me. Laura.  You'd forget it and leave it somewhere. Sure is the angel. I've got some coffee on. That would be fine. I never did get a decent couple calls this morning. Oh everything was late. Both was late. One of those devil in the air mornings I guess. Cream and sugar. Oh no ma'am. I'm on my diet again. Here. Oh thank you. It's a truly shame for one pretty thing. At our latest meeting of the night we were talking about it. Most of us don't think that she done it. Oh ain't it awful Miss Marion. When you think there's a life that's going to be no more in a few hours. Laura. It's the last night in cream. Bless her heart. Beautiful Miss Marion.  But I look at that face. And I say Laura. That Mrs. Bailey she's no murderer. Just from a face I say that. I don't think the court agrees with you Laura. Court. Somebody had to pay. And they take her. Because if you ask me. With these elections coming up and everything. They have to find her guilty. I don't think it purely is. From what I read there's lots of chances for another woman to have done it. The other woman. You sound just like one of those scandal magazines Laura. Laura. Well if you ask me right now. Someone is sitting laughing to herself right this minute. And she knows what she's done. And a good lord will take care of her all right. You better start vacuuming as soon as you've finished your coffee Laura. I'm going to get dressed. She knew it would have been a mistake to sit down with Laura. She wanted to make small talk. The friendly, non-important things that passed the time. We're listening to Laura's pseudo intellectual philosophies which the cleaning woman so proudly expounded. And yet showing under the surface almost profound wisdom. She might even have talked to Laura about herself. Of unhappiness. Fear. Relieving the pressing weight without disclosing the secret. But now. Laura was alien. Laura suspected something that she knew. It was 10 o'clock. And there were 10 more hours. Until 8. Yeah it's Laura. Hello. Hello dear. Hello mother. How are you? Fine. Did I wake you up? No. No I've been up since 8. Oh. Is Laura there? Yes. You want to talk to her? No no. Just tell her I'm expecting her on Monday. I wasn't sure whether it would be Monday or Tuesday but I decided Monday. All right. Are you all right here? Yes I'm fine. You've got one of those headaches again. I wish you'd go to the doctor about it. It worried me so much. I'm fine mother. I haven't got a headache. Oh I'm glad. Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I thought I'd... No thanks. Thanks mother. I've got a date. Oh. It's nobody you know mother. Well that's all right dear. I thought you might like to watch TV. It's a very good show at 8 o'clock. Jackie... I'm sorry mother. Maybe you could bring us eight for dinner. And we could watch the show at 8 and then you could go on to whatever you're going.  Look I've got to go now. I'll talk to you soon. Tomorrow. All right dear. Goodbye. Ms. Barrington you help me. I want to move the cabinet ma'am. It hasn't been cleaned behind this. It's north. Oh. All right. You just take the corner honey. All right. Don't strain yourself. Just kind of lean. I'll do the pushing. All right. Just a whisk or more. There. All right honey. If you've been missing any bills and things that's where they are. They're clueless. I'll take them Laura. Well here you go. Oh what a nice looking gentleman. Give it to me. I thought I'd lost it. I thought it was lost. She saw it. His picture was in the papers. She'll remember. She'll think about it and she'll remember. It's a picture of a cousin of mine. I never liked him. He was a black sheep. Do you know what I mean? It caused a lot of trouble Laura. I'd almost forgotten all about him. I'm sorry I was rude. It just brought back very unpleasant memories. Oh. Sure. That's all right. I understand. I had an uncle like there was. All he looked at down. Pretty thing though. That cousin of yours sure reminds me of somebody. Somebody I've seen and I know. Now who could that be? You are listening to The Murderous. Tonight's presentation in Radio's Outstanding. Theater of thrills. Suspense. Hello. This is Marvin Miller. We'll return to our program in a moment. But first here's something to think about. The United States of America is young among the nations of the world. But it has proven the value of its way of life. Perhaps the most important words in our national heritage are the first three words of the Constitution. We the people. The people are in power. Not an individual or a party or a group of individuals. But the people as a whole. The communists have corrupted this word people just as they have made the words peace and freedom and liberty seem meaningless. Ask the citizen in one of the communist people's republics just how much he has to say about how his government is run. With us the word means exactly what it says. It means everybody. No exceptions. And as citizens we recognize our two responsibilities. First to know what our rights are. And second to defend those rights. And now we bring back War Hollywood soundstage Miss Kathy Lewis starring in tonight's production The Murderous. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. She'd listen to the sounds of Laura Vacuuming kitchen harmonies clinking a China ring of silver. She had bathed and dressed automatically slowly always with me waiting for a pause and Laura's clean ritual a pause that might indicate that she had remembered remembered whose face it was in the photograph. Yet she does remember and she comes to me. What will I say? And fastening the throat necklace hands momentarily frozen behind her neck the sounds in the kitchen had stopped the clasp of the necklace was secured but all of the plans so carefully made to ease the passage of this terrible day were gone she knew she could never recapture them she thought But after tonight it will be better and tomorrow and next week and next month better it's only the waiting for tonight that's all What about Laura? Photograph. Supposing she did remember him from the newspaper pictures Supposing she knows and doesn't say anything to me wait until I go out then call the police Be careful now honey it's slick over there Laura I'm going out for a while get my hair washed if anyone calls tell them I'll be home by two or two thirty Yes ma'am There's some cold cuts if you want them to lunch Oh I'll be fine Just a cup of soup that'll She put on her hat and coat and left the apartment closing the door would come necessary of course at the elevator door she stopped and waited for a few moments It's silly she doesn't know anything suspect anything besides she didn't have a chance to look at the picture for more than a second or two we believe her lots of people resemble other people unless unless the police do suspect somebody else and they know it wasn't his wife but if the newspaper stories were just a trick trying to make me think that she was going to die tonight knowing she's innocent Yes I know Yes Yes Yes Well I saw with my own eyes Yes Well I'm just telling you what I know That's right Laura Miss Marion I didn't hear you Who are you talking to Laura My sister My sister Mary No baby It's Miss Marion I'll talk to you later Yes Goodbye Are you sure to scare the light on me honey I'm sorry I forgot something And with the live fresh underlifts she went into the bedroom sat on the bed suddenly feeling pale and cold it was 12.15 in the bedroom clock she had called the hairdresser and cancelled the appointment she knew that she couldn't leave the apartment not at least until after Laura had gone and that wouldn't be until 4.30 Laura had been calling the police she was convinced of that but I don't think they believed her still they might begin to wonder they might investigate she was lying on the bed arms folded behind her head aware that her shoes were still on sharp heels endangering the lacy counter pain but not caring hearing the sounds of Laura's humming and an occasional groan as she stooped to her work even if they did come they'd never find the picture they couldn't prove anything I'd deny it but what would I have to deny I mustn't do that then they would suspect all right I wish I could sleep this isn't the way it was supposed to be today I think I'll make some calls no what number do you want batting 3, 5, 7, 6, 9 you have the right number but there's no one living here by that name yes you want me to make you a bite of something to eat I'm just going to make some coffee well maybe it'd feel more chipper honey you're a real pale why don't you take off your shoes and take a lie down somebody trying to frighten me that's the second time he calls now you take yourself a nap that'll fix you no I don't want to oh but honey you're all wrought up you got something troubling you Miss Marion you want to tell me why do you say that there's nothing wrong with me was it seeing that cousin of yours the one in the picture now you can tell Laura it was an old gentleman friend not your cousin wasn't he and seeing him upset you didn't he I could tell oh well now I'll make you a cup of coffee now you lay down for a spell and when I come back you can talk it all out honey make it feel better you better get back to your work Laura I'm going out now honey I'm worried about you I wish you wouldn't go she didn't turn around didn't answer the maid pausing only for an instant to take up a pocketbook and coat then she left the house she walked in the city aimless not thinking not seeing and it wasn't until she noticed a cruising patrol car the things drew back into focus perhaps they're looking for me they found out they know should have done something what killed her killed Laura oh she like crazy crazy thinking things like that it's three o'clock three four five six seven eight five hours I'll go to a movie they wouldn't find me in there they wouldn't think of looking there it'll pass the time she went into the first movie theater she saw not looking at the marquee paid her admission almost ran inside then sank into the worn shiny seat and leaned back in semi-darkness and watched the flickering light on the screen before her without seeing or caring about its content it was five o'clock when the second feature began playing for ten minutes she watched now seeing and hearing because the fantasy had momentarily taken her out of herself not seven you jerk eight look I got 34 apples right right you take 30 from me right right but you're a good guy you hit that maxi system a good guy you give me back to me yeah I got seven now I got eight four and four eight why you ain't got no brains there's arithmetic seven eight seven one two three he said eight you heard him I heard him eight it is you think I want to go to the chair and didn't notice the side glances that she half ran down the street her sobs catching in her throat tears streaking her cheeks then I'd be dead she'll be dead I need a clone sorry officer all right man yes yes I'm all right you sit why I don't look sick do I you don't want to go wandering out on the street like that you could get hurt yes I'm sorry I'm late excuse me sure the patrolman looked after her puzzle caught the eye of a bystander shrugged exchanged an understanding brin and continued his beat it was six o'clock when she turned into a quiet cocktail lounge on a side street needing the drink now to forget to blot out the last two hours of waiting she couldn't go home she knew they'd be waiting for her there not be seen again on the street until it was dark until after eight o'clock and she sat in a shadowed booth drinking slowly then faster and faster hoping for the dulling of sensibilities I'm not drunk and I want to be well hello alone alone yes can I uh buy you a drink a drink oh it's kind of lonesome sitting here isn't it oh waitress ranked with him and he was faceless nobody she didn't even care that he sat close to her in the booth urging her how about another drink honey smiling insinuating he said things that she didn't hear it passed the time what's the time oh it's early no no no what time is it you got a date? break it I think I'm drunk now it's okay who is it we're having fun are we what's the time well it's uh it's seven what do you care hey how would you like I've got to go now goodbye what are you giving me I killed somebody and I've got to go you're not feeling any pain honey come on let's have one for the road goodbye outside it was dusk she stood swaying for a moment and the sidewalk tipped under her she walked slowly carefully in an hour she'll be dead except she won't have to feel anymore and I'll have to go on like this like today every day she stopped on the corner is there a police station anywhere near here quarter past seven when she went into the police station and said to the sergeant I want to give myself up I killed John Bailey you


the hair-raising adventures of Sam Spade, detective. Off to you by the makers of Wild Root Cream Oil for the hair. I'm Spade Detective Agency. It's me, Effie. Oh, Sam, I've been worried about you. Sid Weiss was just on the phone, and he says digging up a corpse without a permit is against the law. It's all right, Effie. I just dug him up to say hello and put him back again. Oh, Sam. I'll be down in a couple of minutes to dictate my report, sweetheart. If I get lost on the way, you'll find me in City Hospital, the Psycho Ward, third straight jacket from the left. MUSIC Dashel Hammett, 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, join their talents to make your hair stand on end with the adventures of Sam Spade. Presented each week by Wild Root Cream Oil, the non-alcoholic hair tonic that will put your hair back in place again, grooming it neatly, naturally, the way you want it. Fellows, if a girl can spend half an hour under a hot dryer and a beauty parlor to look her best for you, certainly you can spend half a minute sprucing up with Wild Root Cream Oil hair tonic to look your best for her. That's all it takes. And Wild Root Cream Oil grooms your hair neatly and naturally, the way girls like to see it. Besides, it relieves dryness and removes loose dandruff. There's not a drop of alcohol in Wild Root Cream Oil. It contains lanolin.  And now, Wild Root brings to the air the greatest private detective of them all in The Adventures of Sam Spade. August 2nd, 1946. Two Mrs. Gregory Denov. Subject, death of Dr. Denov. I was sitting in my office with nothing to think about except a horse named Corkscrew Jr. My secretary, Effie Perrine, came in and said there was someone outside. I didn't look up from the dope sheets so she said it again. Someone outside, Sam. What's he look like? Blue double-breasted custom-made suit, count of Maratay, hand-tailed shirt, English shoes, hand-trim, van dyke. Get me a blank check and send them in. OK, Sam. Mr. Spade will see you now, sir. Thank you. Mr. Spade, Sam Spade. What can I do for you? I'm Dr. Gregory Denov, a psychoanalyst. I need your help. Lie down, doctor, and tell me all about it. I see you might also be noted for your sense of humor as well as your discretion. Who told you I was discreet? A man named Nikolaitis. You tell Nikolaitis, I think he's cute, too. What else does he say about me? That I can trust you with $10,000. Is this Mr. Nikolaitis when he had patients? No, no, he isn't. As a matter of fact, he's gotten possession of some private records of mine. Well, it's rather involved. Nikolaitis is shaking you down, and he picked me as the middleman, is that it? This is not an ordinary case of blackmail. Blackmail is blackmail, even if you do it in Technicolor. Well, as you may know, a psychoanalyst keeps a faithful transcript, a detailed record of everything a patient says during consultation. No matter how intimate or shocking. This man, Nikolaitis, has managed to gain possession of a copy of one of these case histories. The patient is a very celebrated person, and should this material be divulged, it may have very serious consequences of both my patient and for me. Doctor, your best bet's the San Francisco police department. No, no, that's out of the question. Then I'm afraid I can't help you. Why not? Nikolaitis said the truth. I'm a private detective. When I take on a client, I take on his troubles. My job is to protect him, not to stand by and see him milked. You want to hire me on that basis, I'll listen. I'm so tired, I must trust somebody. What can you do for me, Mr. State? Write me out a check for $1,000. Get a pen, yeah. All right. You see, Nikolaitis figures that if I'm getting a cut, I'll have to keep my mouth shut. I'll spend it all the same. Here you are. Thanks. Now, what was the last thing Nikolaitis told you? That he would pick up the $10,000 here and deliver to you this file in question. Can you reach him? Yes. Call him. Tell him you've seen me. Tell him I won't do that kind of business in my office. Tell him to come to your house. I'll be there. What if he refuses? He won't. Tell him I have the whole $10,000. What time? How about in an hour? No, no, I'm sorry. We'll have to make it around three-year. Oh, goodness, I'm late. Now, I really... That's a beautiful watch, Mr. Denner. Yes. Foreign? Yes. Massive? My watch? Why, really, Mr. Spade, I'm very late. I have so many things to do, and I have to be at the majestic theater well before the matinee starts at 2.30. Are you going to see me at 3 o'clock? Are you going to the theater? Oh, I'm not going to stay for the performance. Well, Mr. Spade, till 3 o'clock then. Oh, my office is in my apartment. The address is here on my card. It's the penthouse. Penthouse, huh? OK, doctor, I'll come formal. I'll wear the top to my bathing suit. My office around 2.30 and started walking up Knob Hill. The Versailles apartments where Denner's place was took up the whole 300 blocks, so I didn't have any trouble finding it. I stopped across the street for a minute to get my breath after the uphill climb, mopped my face, and started across, just as I got to the middle of the street. Pactins are close around. I couldn't see who'd done the Brody, but I had a pretty good idea. The cops had the sidewalk roped off, and guards posted at the building entrance. They took me maybe 20 minutes to elbow my way through and show my credentials. Sergeant Levine had the front door, so they let me in. Lieutenant Dundee of Homicide met me at the door of the penthouse. Hi, Sam. What do you want? I want to see Dr. Denner. The doctor is dead. Dead? Yeah. He's my client. They can't do this to me. How? Hit a Brody out the window. What are you here for? To see his wife. OK with you? Why not? She's inside. Thanks. Please. With all due respect for your grief, I must have the keys to the cabinet where Gregory kept his confidential files. You realize that he wished me to take charge of his patients and that I am responsible. All this police and so on, we must get those files out of here as soon as possible. Yes? My name is Spade. I am Dr. Zoya. I was poor Dr. Denner's oldest friend. I'd like to see you, Mrs. Denner, alone. But you police have already asked her so many questions. You see, she's not in there. I'm not with the police. I'm a private detective. I was working for Dr. Denner. A private detective? He was in trouble, you see? You see, Dr. Zoya, the police won't believe me. Mr. Spade, you'll tell them. You'll tell them he didn't commit suicide. Well, Mrs. Denner, I guess that takes care of everything here. It's clearly suicide.  Idiot, suicide. My husband, he treated suicides. He would never. No, please. It will be all right, my dear. I'm sorry. She's hysterical. If I had the time, I would tell them. Please, Mrs. Denner, the undertaker has been arranged for a burial at 7 o'clock at the Israel Cemetery. Now, please, the key to Gregory's fires. Here, take it and go.  OK, we'll recall you now. I'm so sorry, gentlemen. This hysteria is simply traumatic condition, if I only had the time. Who can I turn to? You think it's pleasant. You think my husband would rest if they said I committed suicide? What shall I do? What shall I do? What shall I do? Dr. Zoya didn't have the time, either, if I. You think it's murder? Who do you think killed your husband? To name someone. That's a very serious charge, Mr. Spade. Goodbye, Mrs. Denner. Constance Brent. You mean Constance Brent, the actress? Yes. She was his last patient this morning.  How do you know? My husband said so. To you? Well, he'd written it down on his notes on her case. Once before, she'd almost pushed him from that same window. How about your husband and Ms. Brent? Oh, I knew she was falling in love with my husband. That always happened. They call it a transference. But in this case. Your husband told me Ms. Brent was acting in a play this afternoon over at the Majestic. Yes, midsummer night's dream, but she was here. I know she was here. Ms. Ray, the receptionist, was coming back from lunch when she heard voices arguing inside. And she was sure it was Ms. Brent's voice. Show me the doctor's case history on Ms. Brent. I can't. It's missing. As soon as it happened, I went to the files I meant to show it to the police. Who could have taken it? Constance Brent was the last one in that room before he died. Yeah. When did you see Nicolaitis last? Nic who? Skip it. Where can I reach you in case? For the next couple of hours, I'll be at the Majestic Theater. I want to see how good an actress this Constance Brent is. It's Brent's dressing room. What do you want? I want to talk to Ms. Brent. Well, you can talk to me. I'm her husband. So you're Mr. Brent. I'm Jonathan Wallace. She's Mrs. Wallace. And what do you want with my wife? I've come to tell her that Dr. Denov is dead. Are you sure? You tried falling from a 12th floor window sometime. Well, that's the best news I've heard this year. I'm afraid it would be a shock for Constance. Maybe, maybe not. She was the last person to see him alive as far as anybody can make out. Are you from the police? No. I'm from the insurance company. Claims investigate. What do you want to see Constance for? The policy wasn't made out to her, was it? No, made out to his widow. But she can't collect. Police say it was suicide. That settles it. This is the last time I play to Tanya.  Who is this person? Darling, I'm afraid this is going to be a shock. This man is from an insurance company. Dr. Denov is dead.  What happened? The police say he jumped. His wife says he was pushed. She also says that you, Ms. Brent, might have been the pusher. Oh, now, really, it's too absurd. How like a wife. What time did your play start this afternoon, Ms. Brent? Not a day or two, 30, always. Always. And the late lamented Dr. Denov jumped at 3 o'clock? I didn't say he did. Doesn't this news shock you? But of course. Do you think good psychoanalysts are easy to find? Looks like your next doctor will have to start from scratch. Your case history seems to be missing from Dr. Denov's files. Missing? No. Where is it? Has a man named Nikolaitis been in touch with you? I've never heard of him. Chances are you will. Does he have Dr. Denov's notes on my case? Could be. This is right for it. Hot reading, huh? You seem to know this person, Nikolaitis. Get that file for me, and I'll pay you well for it. Just a minute, my lovely Titania. We don't know who this man really is. He might even be Nikolaitis himself. Let me see your company credentials. Now, what do you know? Somebody picked my pocket. My wallet's gone. I thought so.  Oh, no, no, Jonathan, no police. Let's get off the merry-go-round. My name is Spade. You'll find me in the phone book under S. My office is open until 6 o'clock. And if a man answers, don't hang up. It'll be me. Have you found a Nikolaitis yet? Not one. I even tried spelling it backwards. Nobody ever heard of a man named Nikolaitis, beginning to think there ain't no such person. Pardon me. Do I hear my name mentioned? I'm Nikolaitis. Sam, I still think you're right. Come all the way in, Mr. Nikolaitis. Sit down. Thank you. If you need me, Sam, just scream. What can I do for you? Oh, I've come for my money. What money? Well, the $10,000. You remember the $10,000? Refresh my memory. Oh, Dr. Denos, the gentleman who visited you this morning. Oh, that $10,000. Well, you see, you see, you remember now. Yeah, yeah, it all comes back to me now. You were supposed to deliver something for the money. I think Dr. Denos is dead. That is no longer important. You will give me the money, please. And I will not disturb your afternoon any further. Suppose I refuse? Oh, that would grieve me. In my grief, there is no time more than I might do. Dr. Denos is dead. There's nothing more you can do to hurt him. Never would I attempt to hurt poor Dr. Denos, but in my sorrow, it would be so great if I should be forced to hurt the woman he loves. After all, as Titania says, these are the forgeries of jealousy. Sonia, huh? Ah, yes, Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 1, Scene 18. I'm a little rusty on my Shakespeare. Well, you are indeed, Mr. Spade. Titania doesn't appear until well into Act 2. She doesn't, huh? Yeah, yeah, that's right. Yeah, I guess she isn't on for 40 minutes or so. Yes, indeed, Mr. Spade. But I didn't come here to discuss drama. What else have you got to discuss? When Dr. Denos died, your market died with him. That is a very unprogressive view, Mr. Spade. There's always a gentleman named Jonathan Wilde. Why, you fiend. You don't mean you sell to both of us. Mr. Spade, how can you have such a low opinion of me? I will prove my integrity. I will give you the material. You give me the money. Hand it over. In the event, Mr. Spade, we have a thing. He who goes too close to the bear soon loses his beard. I have left my beard at home. OK, I'll meet you anywhere you say, anytime you say. Excellent. Seven in your apartment? Won't that be walking into the bear's cave? In the event, Mr. Spade, we have a thing.  It was then 6 PM. I called Epi for messages.  I still had maybe 30 minutes before Nikolaitis was due at my apartment, so I breezed on up to your place on the hill. We had a very interesting chat. Remember Mrs. Denos? Looking back on it, that was probably the most interesting conversation we had. Honey, I can't remember much of anything you said, but it was so cozy there in your place. And what with your clock being about 20 minutes slow, it must have been something like half past seven before I left you. I grabbed a cab and told the hacky to step on it. I hope Nikolaitis was still waiting at my apartment. He was. Nikolaitis, I'm sorry to be late. He was lying on my bathroom floor. The little guy was looking just about as natty as when he'd been in my office except that the beautiful silk scarf he'd been wearing was twisted into a tight noose around his neck. Mr. Nikolaitis was a very dead blackmailer. Hackers of wild root cream oil are presenting the fourth in a new series of programs bringing to the air for the first time. The adventures of Dashel Hammett's famous private detective, Sam Spade. The man who has something better than a mere hunch is said to have it straight from the horse. Of course, that's a humorous expression. But it shows how to get facts. Go straight to the real source of information. And that's why we went straight to hundreds of men in metropolitan New York to find out what men really want in a hair tonic. And their answers show that wild root cream oil has all five advantages chosen by this impartial consumer jury of men. One, wild root cream oil grooms your hair neatly and naturally never leaves it sticky or greasy. Two, wild root cream oil relieves annoying dryness. Three, it removes loose dandruff. Four, it's non-alcoholic. And five, it contains soothing lanolin. Remember, no other leading hair tonic gives you all five of these important advantages. Is it any wonder that four out of five users in a nationwide test preferred wild root cream oil to all other hair tonics they tried? So next time you visit your barber, ask for wild root cream oil and get the big economy-sized bottle of wild root cream oil at your drug or toilet goods counter. Back to Sam and Psyche, tonight's adventure with Sam Spade. His eyes were open, and he seemed to be looking right at me as I bent over him. The finger marks on his throat were too blotchy to be of any use. Pretty soon, Lieutenant Dundee and Sergeant Polehouse came in and walked over behind me. We all stood there for a second, and then Polehouse bent down and closed those eyes. You know him, Sam? His name is Nikolaitis. That's all I know about him. What did he come here to your place for? I don't know. You invited him? I wouldn't have been surprised to find him here. But not like this. Your boy's got a smear on him yet? Sure, he's an old customer of mine. Runs a photo lab, photo stats, microfilm. Microfilm? Nobody makes any sense. They're all screwballs, psychos, neurotics. What am I doing in the middle of this anyway? Sam, don't scream at us. We're just doing a job. Oh, I'm sorry, boys, as Dr. Denov was my client. An expert. That Denov probably had a screw loose somewhere and needed a psychoanalyst himself. Say, maybe he was. Yeah. Yeah. Hey, look, Dundee. I'm going out of here now. Do I call Sid Weiss and we go through all that again? Or are you going to let me walk? Well, Sam, you can go. I know where you sleep. I'll wake you when I'm ready for you. Well, Mr. Speed? I want some answers, Dr. Zoya, and you're the guy who can give them to me. I'm listening. Just let the questions flow into your mind and do not try to repress any of them. Speak instantly, wherever. OK, question number one, without thinking. Do you think Dr. Denov was a suicide? Well, I had not seen Dr. Denov for many years. He had been my student in Vienna. I was his analyst, in fact. That's all very interesting, Dr. But my question. Yes, yes. Did poor Dr. Denov commit suicide? I have reviewed all the material, manifest, and hypothetical, and I came to the conclusion, no, no, it was quite impossible. You see, these paranoia and the problem. OK, question number two, was Dr. Denov in love with Constance Brent? I suppose I can now answer that question. When I arrived in San Francisco, I found him in great distress. He told me, he feared, he was losing his objectivity towards this patient. In other words, he was in love with her. Yes. You think she might have murdered him? All psychoanalytical subjects develop aggressive feelings towards the doctor. Nearly all of my patients have threatened me at one time or another. You don't say. Tell me, Dr. Zoya, you don't think about Jonathan Wallace, Miss Brent's husband? A violent type, almost psychotic. Yeah? How about you, Dr. Zoya? Did you have done it? That is a most interesting question, Mr. Spade. When I arrived here from Vienna without funds, dependent on the kindness of my former students, I must confess that I felt a certain antagonism. It disturbed me to realize that a man of my standing in the profession should have been dependent on the good will of a younger and, I sincerely believe, less gifted man. However, I overcame this, and I didn't kill him. Well, Doctor, thanks a lot. Oh, people, people. Truly a life study. There is no accounting. For instance, Dr. Danoff, he came to me only this afternoon with the strangest request. Yeah? He gave me the gold watch, the gold watch, which I had presented to him many years ago upon his graduation in Vienna. He had a patient waiting, and so had not much time to explain. Where is his watch? Please, I'm coming to that. He asked me to promise that I would have the watch buried with him if something should happen. That has been done. But Dr. Danoff just died at 3 o'clock. It is a mosaic law that the deceased be buried before sundown. Thanks, Doctor. Thanks a lot. I hope I've been of some help. Doctor, you'll never know how much you've helped me. Spade. What's happened? I think I got the answers, Mrs. Danoff, that file on Constance Brent. Your husband knew that you'd been going through it. Mr. Spade?  He took it out of the files, added microfilm for his own private records, and destroyed the original. Really? The man who did the microfilming was Nicolaitis. He delivered one print to your husband and kept another for himself. He was murdered in my apartment for the copy he used to shake down your husband. The killer now has that copy. If it hasn't already been destroyed, then we can still put our hands on the first strip of microfilm, which is delivered to your husband. This is astonishing. How? It's in the gold watch, which was buried with him. Oh, the watch that Dr. Zoye... That's right. Danoff made up his mind that whatever he knew about Constance Brent was going to go to the grave with him. What are you doing tonight? Nothing. And we've got a date, sweetheart. You and I. I'll be back toward the wee hours. All paths lead to the grave. Ophelia, Act 6. Gregory's grave? But shouldn't we get a court order and have it done properly? The court's don't open until 10 in the morning, sweetheart. A lieutenant Dundee's going to start asking me some questions about that stiff in my apartment before then. You see, baby, I can't wait. Mr. Spade, we shouldn't be doing this. I'm wrong. This time it won't be wasted effort. I'll crawl into the grave myself and pull it in after. Here. I struck it. Give me that crowbar, Mrs. Danoff. Quick. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Put that flashlight into it, aren't you? You look the other way. Yeah, here it is. Look. What, Mr. Spade? What have you got? The watch. Here, put the flashlight on it while I open it. Here's my nail file. Pry off the back. Thanks. That does it. Here's the film. All right, Mr. Spade. Give me that film. Who wasn't the second grave digger from Hamlet, Mr. Constance Brent? Stop clowning and hand it up to me. Better do as he says, Mr. Spade. We've both got guns. I was expecting that. Took you a long time to get here, Mr. Wallace. How did dear Constance make out as Lady Macbeth? Just give me that film.  Wallace's cemetery is crawling with cops.  Come up out of that grave, Spade, or you'll say they're forever. OK, Dundee. All right, all right. Get those hands up, everybody.  Make the pinch. OK. Sam Spade, I arrest you for body snatching, violation of graves under the civil code number...  You're supposed to arrest Mrs. Gregory Dinov and Jonathan Wallace for the murder of Gregory Dinov and Pericles Nikolaitis. But I... Oh, yeah, yeah, I... No, you don't! It was smart of you, Mrs. Dinov, to make me late for my appointment with Nikolaitis. You did that so that Wallace could nail him in my apartment for the microfilm. You thought you could use that film to pin Dinov's murder on Constance Brent. But after your late husband caught your tampering with his files, he added a few well-chosen words to it so that the film put the finger on you and your boyfriend, Mr. Wallace, in case anything happened to the doctor.   That looked like suicide. You might have gotten away with it, Mrs. Dinov, if you'd bashed your husband's head in with a bottle. And it reminds me, if he pour me a drink. That all? Sign it, put a special delivery on it, and send it care of the matron to hatch up a prison. Go on, have one yourself. Oh, thank you. Here's how. Oh. You'll get used to it. Good night, Sam. Good night, sweetheart. It presents the Adventures of Sam Spade, Dashel Hammett's famous private detective produced and directed by William Spear. Then on these warm August days, the sun beats down on your hair, may leave it looking dry and brittle. That's why, now especially, you need wild root cream oil. This grand non-alcoholic hair tonic has just what it takes for summer grooming. It contains lanolin, the soothing oil at so much like the oil of your skin. Wild root cream oil keeps your hair neatly in place, gives it the handsome, successful look that helps you get ahead on the job.  So tonight, take the famous FN test. Check your scalp. Signs of dryness or loose dandruff tell you you need wild root cream oil right away. Sam Spade is played by Howard Duff. Fred Essler was Dr. Zoya. Loreen Tuttle is Effie. Don't forget next Friday, the three masters of the art of hair raising, Dashel Hammett, William Spear and wild root cream oil join forces to bring you another hair raising adventure with Sam Spade. Smart girls use wild root cream oil too for quick good grooming and to relieve dryness between permanence. Mothers say it's grand for training children's hair. Dick Joy speaking. This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company.