It was hot, boiling hot that night. I wanted to grab a beer and turn in early.
So what happens? I get my beer, but with it comes a gunshot, a beautiful woman in trouble, and murder.
From the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of Crime Mystery, CBS presents his most famous character, brought to you now in...
The Adventures of Philip Barlow.
With Gerald Moore, starred as Philip Barlow, we bring you tonight's unusual story, Red Wind.
There was a rough desert wind blowing into Los Angeles that evening. It was one of those hot, dry Santa Annas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair,
and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that, every booze party ends in a fight, and meek little housewives feel the edge of a carving knife and study their husbands' necks.
Anything can happen when the Santa Ana blows in from the desert.
I closed up my office early. I got tired of reading Philip Marlow, private investigator, backwards on the ground glass of my office door.
So I locked up and decided a nice cold beer would taste good before I went up to my apartment.
Fill her up again, Mr. Marlow? Marlow. Marlow. Yeah, Marlow's a fish. Yeah, I know.
Marlow's also the name of a lady on the radio, Marlow, Mary, the story of. Yeah, my wife listens to it. Yeah, good for her.
Hey, you, Bartender, another ride. Yeah, that drunk again. What are you expecting this business, autographed hounds?
Make it snappy, you hear? Be right with you, sport, gotta draw this man a beer. Crying out loud, these stumble bums.
Hey, bud. You got another customer back us. Hey, bud, you seen a lady in here lately?
A lady? A tall, good-looking, brown hair, a print bolero jacket and a blue silk dress. No, sir. No, sir.
Nobody like that, Spinnian. All right, straight scotch fast. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
As the man drank, I noticed the drunk was grinning at him. And then without changing his grin, the drunk swept a gun from somewhere so fast it was just a blur coming out.
Made a couple of hard snaps and a little smoke. Very little.
You other guys, don't move. So long, Waldo. Don't move, you two. Poor Waldo. I better make his nose bleed. So long, boys. Drink up.
Get on the phone, kid. I'll get his license number. Holy smoke. Too late. He drove away in the dead guy's car. Maybe he ain't dead.
No, he's dead all right. That guy was using a.22 target pistol. When they use that kind of gun, they don't make mistakes.
Where's your phone? This is for the police.
Prowl car boys were there in five minutes. Waldo was out of business all right. Nothing in his pockets told who he was, but he had about $700 on him.
And with that kind of heavy coin, you can buy a good 1910 automobile even today. Now I told the cops what I knew, including about Waldo's brown haired pretty girl in the Bolero jacket.
It was about nine o'clock when I stepped out of the elevator in my apartment house and almost walked right into a brown haired pretty girl in a Bolero jacket.
Waiting for the elevator on my floor. Oh, excuse me. Just a minute, lady. What is it? I'm a great admirer of Bolero jackets. What? Now take the one you've got on, for instance.
I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry. No, no, no. Wait. If you'll be good enough to let me. Oh, you've made me miss the elevator. It's just as well. What?
Well, it's better you don't go out in those clothes. What do you mean? Tall, good looking, Bolero jacket, blue silk dress.
Lady, might I take the trouble of telling you that you're in trouble? Trouble? Yeah, the cops are looking for you in those clothes. I haven't done anything.
Maybe not. But if I were you, I'd have a little talk with me. I'm in room 41 across the hall. I know things about you.
Well. Good girl. Come along.
It took a firm grip on her arm, but I managed to get her to my room. I rustled up some drinks, but when I turned to give her hers, I saw she held a small automatic.
She looked at me steadily. I put down both glasses slowly so I wouldn't be misunderstood.
Look, sister, I know it's hot tonight and heat does funny things to people, but let's put that little thing away and have a nice cool drink, huh?
Don't move. Oh, I'm strictly frozen in my tracks. Stay that way. Okay, okay. But wouldn't you like to know that I'm a private detective?
Private detective? I can prove it if you'll let me. That's better. I don't like those things pointed at me.
I'll have that drink. Oh, good. I don't often give good liquor away like this. I can't afford it.
Why are they after me? Well, a man was just shot in a bar down the street. Before he got it, he'd been asking about a tall pretty girl with a bolero jacket.
What did he look like, this man? He was tall, about 5'11", slim, dark, dark brown eyes with a lot of glitter, dark suit, white handkerchief in the breast pocket.
And he must have seen you earlier tonight to know how you were dressed. Am I getting anywhere?
He used to be my, my chauffeur. He had an appointment with him, didn't you? He asked for you, didn't he?
He asked for you, didn't he? Yes, I had an appointment with him. He'd stolen something from me when he left three days ago. I was going to buy it back from him.
Why didn't you tell the police? I couldn't tell them. It was valuable, wasn't it? Valuable enough for a wall load of steel.
Fifteen thousand dollars? Peanuts. But it wasn't the value. You see, it meant something to me.
The man I loved gave it to me. Now he's dead. He was shot down over Germany.
Now go back and tell my husband that he'll probably hire you. He did? How much is he paying me? And where is this husband of yours?
He's at a meeting. This late at night? He's a very important man. He's a hydroelectric engineer. Never mind about him. What about Waldo? Why was he knocked off?
I mean, he's dead? Waldo is dead? Yes, sister, he's dead. Very dead. Screaming won't bring him back.
I'm not going to scream. Who would that be? There's a dressing room behind the door. Hide there. Take your glass, will you?
All right, all right.
I went to the door, making a loud yawning sound. Foolishly, I didn't have my gun. That was a mistake.
Because when I opened the door, the guy on the other side certainly had one. The 22 Target Automatic that had already killed one man that night.
And I knew the bald head, the flat shiny eyes, and the face like a poisonous lizard.
Baldy put the muzzle of his gun lightly against my throat. I backed into the room and Baldy kicked the door shut.
You alone? Look for yourself. I'm asking, not looking. I'm alone.
You and that dumb bartender saw me dust off Waldo. What did Waldo do to you? Who's asking? Just making conversation.
He still done me on a bank job we did together. Got me four years in Michigan Penn. How is he? Dead.
Well, I'm still good. Drunk or sober. Tell me why I came here, pal.
You heard the bar keeping me talking. I told them my name and where I lived. That's how, pal. I said why.
Skip it. The hangman won't ask you to guess why he's there. You're pretty tough at that, ain't you, pal? But you're slamming off.
All right. But could you get that gun out of my neck and try somewhere else? Just any place.
This better? This suits you all right? It just so it isn't my neck.
Say when, pal. It's your party.
I leaned against the gun weakly. The door of the dressing room showed a crack of darkness. The crack widened.
I began to shake a little in spite of the heat. The girl came quietly into the room, but there was white all around her iris as she was scared.
She had a gun in her hand, but I was sorry for her. Dead sorry.
She tried to make the door a scream. Either way, it would be curtains for both of us. Scared, mister? Worried about any little thing?
I couldn't talk. The girl floated in the air somewhere behind Paulie, and her horrified face was drifting toward us.
My mouth was as cold and dry as yesterday's toast.
Well, kid, how's it feel? You ready yet? Say the word.
Well, don't take all night about it. If you're gonna do something about it, do it. Why not, pal? I like this. Suppose I yell.
Go ahead. Yeah.
Put up your hand. Hey, look.
Thanks, sister.
That buys me. Everything I have is yours. Now and forever.
Is he dead? Flatter me. No end, lady. I only punched him.
Now get out of here while I call the cops down on this killer. Good night.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute. That jacket marks you for the cops. Leave it here. You don't need it in this kind of weather.
Okay. See you again. Why? I don't know. Who might it be? The rival of a dead flyer and things like that.
Now, on second thought, forget the whole thing. I'll see that the police get Jesse James here.
Good night, lady.
Yeah? You mean me? Yes, please.
Oh, you again. Get in. I want to talk to you.
You want to know what happened at headquarters? Yes, sir.
I went down to headquarters with the law and gave them the story. I left you out of it. Oh, fast.
You saved my life, so no one knows anything about you. Incidentally, neither do I.
My name is Mrs. Frank Bartholay. 212 Fremont Place, Olympia 24596. Is that what you wanted?
I guess so. Well, there it is.
Now, where did you really come back? I wanted my pearls. Oh, no. Pearls, too? Yes.
All right, tell me about the pearls. We've had a murder, a beautiful mystery woman, and a sadistic killer, and an heroic rescue.
Now we will have pearls. I was to buy them back from the man called Waldo.
Well, I saw everything that came out of his pockets. There weren't any pearls.
Could they be hidden in his apartment? It's possible. Waldo lived on the same floor you do, in this apartment house.
And why didn't I know him, at least by sight? Well, he just moved in last week. He managed to get a sublet.
Sort of amateur magician on the side, huh? It's getting rather late. Yeah.
What about your husband this hot, mysterious night? He's still at his meeting. Good.
Why did you say that?
I didn't have any answers. We just sat there looking at one another.
I was suddenly aware of the hot desert wind stirring up the night. I took hold of her and I kissed her.
She sat very still. I was shaking when I let go of her. Her voice trembled a little when she spoke.
I meant you to do that. Oh, I wasn't always this way.
Only since Johnny Dalmus was killed in the war. He gave me those pearls. 41 of them, with a diamond propeller clasp.
I'd have loved them if they were wooden beads because he gave them to me.
I loved Johnny the way you loved just one time. You understand that? Yes, I can.
What I don't understand is how you could explain a $15,000 pearl necklace to your husband.
I told him they were imitation, that I bought them myself. How did Waldo latch onto them and what they stood for?
When my husband was in Argentina, Waldo and I would go for long drives. I was restless and wretched because of Johnny.
Sometimes Waldo and I had a little drink together. But that was all.
But you confided in Waldo about those pearls. And when your husband came back, Waldo stole the pearls and offered to sell them back to you. He'd tell Papa.
Oh, I was a fool. Now you think the pearls are upstairs in Waldo's apartment.
I suppose it's a lot to ask. I've been paid. I'll go look. Wait here.
Was I gone long, Lola? No. Well? No. No pearls? No pearls.
There was a man in Waldo's room. Man? Who? You know a guy named Leon Velasanos?
No, not by name. I don't know him. Mexican, South American, about 45, small, iron gray hair, very neat. Fawn colored suit, wine colored tie.
No, I don't think I know such a man. You say he was in the room? Yeah.
What did he say? Very little. In fact, nothing. He was dead.
You are listening to the adventures of Philip Barlow, created by one of America's most outstanding writers of crime and mystery fiction, Raymond Chandler.
Our story for today, The Red Wind, continues in just a moment. But first, a message of interest for all young men.
How would you like to be up there in the wild blue sky, flying America's mightiest bombers, fastest fighters, and newest jet jobs?
Believe me, it's a great feeling to know that you have the skill, the courage it takes to become a pilot officer in the United States Air Force, the Air Force that's second to none.
Keep your eye on the local newspapers and your nearest Army Air Force recruiting station. An aviation cadet recruiting team will be in your community soon.
If you're between the ages of 20 and 26 and a half years of age, single and a high school graduate, plan to see the aviation cadet interviewing team.
If you pass the mental and physical examination, you'll be accepted for the 52-week aviation cadet training program.
When you graduate, you'll be a second lieutenant in the U.S. Air Force, the mightiest of all.
And now, back to the adventures of Philip Marlow. With Gerald Boars, our star, we continue today's adventure.
I sat with Lola Barsely in her car, listening to the hot wind gallop around in the midnight streets. I just told her about the Latin-looking man I'd found in Waldo's room in a very dead condition.
I held her hands until they stopped trembling, and then I gave her the few remaining details.
He had a gun in his shoulder holster, but someone had strangled him before he could set up in business with a gun.
Someone? You mean Waldo?
Maybe. You see that convertible coupe two cars ahead of us?
Oh, it's been there for hours. There before I parked here to wait for you.
Leon, the guy in Waldo's room, came in that car. But according to the key container he carried, it isn't his car.
Whose car is it? Does it matter?
Yeah, it belonged to a lady, according to the tag on the car keys. Eugenie Kolchenko, West Los Angeles.
I've never heard of her.
Well, you better go home now.
What are you going to do?
Drive that flussy convertible around and wave at my friends. Impress people. You run along now. Me, I've got another date.
Yes, what is it, please?
Miss Eugenie Kolchenko?
Yes, what is it?
Did you lose or misplace a pigeon gray convertible coupe?
What are you saying?
Don't be alarmed. I found it, brought it home to you.
Come in, please. It is a reward, you wish. Shall we say...
Snap out of it, dragon lady. Who was he?
Who was who?
The little guy Leon you loaned your car to. He's dead. Who was he?
Oh, no. No.
Eugenie!
Darling, darling, come here, please.
What's the matter, my dear?
Who is this man?
I came about Miss Kolchenko's car.
What about her car?
Well, the gentleman who borrowed it couldn't return it on account of he isn't alive.
He's dead, darling. He is dead.
That's putting it more bluntly, of course.
Dead, huh?
Yeah, completely.
Who are you?
Philip Marlow, private investigator. My card.
Have you told the police yet?
Never do at once what can be profitably deferred pending negotiation. ESOP.
I might negotiate.
P.G.
Just what do you know, Marlow?
Well, a man named Waldo was shot in a bar tonight.
I happened to have the inside as to who he was and when I visited his apartment tonight,
I found this Leon Velasanos dead.
He wouldn't have had $500 in 20s on him, would he?
No. But this Waldo had over $700 on him when he was killed in that cocktail bar, mostly in 20s.
Is there a basis for negotiation yet?
Very well, Marlow.
There were certain bills for some stuff Miss Kolchenko here had charged to my account.
But darling, you told me I'm not charged to your account.
All right, my dear, so I wasn't right.
That might be the understatement of the decade, but go on.
I had the bills safely in my briefcase.
Somehow this Waldo had a chance to steal the briefcase.
I hired Leon, gave him $500 to buy back those bills from Waldo.
Instead, Waldo took Leon's coupons, was forced to kill Leon in the process.
Then he went out to keep another date and walked into an old pal hostile enough to blow him down.
Then somebody still has those bills and I'm in for a divorce, dude, huh?
The man who shot Waldo got away in Waldo's car with your briefcase in it, could be.
Cops caught him.
And the police have the briefcase?
Maybe.
But the police are interested in solving crimes, not in tossing mud for the benefit of sensation eaters.
I have a friend or two at headquarters. Let me see what I can do.
It's worth $500 to me, Marlow.
Then that's what it'll cost you.
All right. Good luck and thank you, Mr....
Marlow. Philip Marlow, remember?
Oh, Marlow. My name is Frank Barcelli.
Barcelli? Oh.
And what does that mean?
The big hydroelectric engineer.
Yeah. Yes, how'd you know?
Never mind. May I use your telephone?
Someday I must tell you about Ibarra.
Died the soul of the earth, Ibarra, a detective lieutenant over at Central Homicide.
Well, I phoned Ibarra from Mr. Kolchenko's house and told him where he could find a well-dressed cadaver named Leon.
And furnished a few small details.
I gave Ibarra time to check my tip and then I went down to see the good lieutenant.
And told him why I'd been up in Waldo's room.
Only to find Leon instead of a certain lady's string of pearls.
Pearls, eh? Yeah, I thought Waldo might have had them up there.
Whose pearls were they?
The ladies. Go on.
Or they might have been in Waldo's car that Waldo's killer drove away in.
Yeah. What yeah?
They might have. Yeah.
Also a batch of bills charged to the account of a certain Frank Bossoli.
Yeah.
The police aren't interested in domestic scandal. They want to prevent or solve crimes, right?
So?
So I've got $500 for the police fund.
If those pearls and those bills are returned to their rightful owners.
Quit your kidding. It's a valuable necklace.
Yeah.
There's your necklace. Take it away.
On the Leverley borough?
Just tell me straight what it's all about. All I ask.
Sure, sure.
Well you see this Waldo was blackmailing a wife with the pearls and her husband with the bills.
Bossoli, that's the guy's name, sent Leon to get the bills from Waldo.
Waldo killed him and then stepped out and got nailed by that guy in the bar he'd stool pigeoned against once.
Well if Bossoli's name stays out of the papers I get $500.
It goes to the police fund.
Thanks. We'll keep them out.
I'm not in this case for money. I just want to get back the bills and the pearls.
Sure. And like you say Marlow, the police aren't in business to sling mud.
Look, you can deliver the pearls to the lady yourself if you like.
No, you better take them to her Marlow. You see, except for that diamond propeller clasp on them, they're phony.
Phony. But look Marlow, I know pearls.
Real pearls feel gritty between the teeth.
These are hard and glassy. Try.
Yeah. They're phony.
All but the clasp Marlow, all but the clasp.
I took the pearls and had them appraised the next morning at a gilt edged place in Beverly Hills.
Phony all but the clasp.
An imitation as good as these couldn't have been made that fast.
These were the pearls that Waldo had stolen.
I took the glass pearls to a dive on Melrose and had them duplicated for $20.
I had the jeweler attach the diamond clasp to the $20 duplicate string of pearls.
Then I called up Lola.
Hello Lola, okay you're in.
Oh Mr. Marlow, yes okay here.
I have a string of pearls for you.
Oh really fellow, really did you get it?
Wait a minute, wait a minute Lola. Waldo was getting set to jip you.
We sold the real pearls and made up a string with the diamond clasp.
Oh. May I at least have the clasp?
Sure. Meet me at four at Nicolaeves.
Nicolaeves at four, I'll be there.
There you are Lola. These are the pearls the police found in Waldo's car.
You're right, they're not my pearl.
I'm sorry Lola.
No, still have the clasp Johnny gave me.
Well I'm happy if you are.
Happy? No not quite happy.
See this morning my husband told me where to separate.
Oh I'm very sorry Lola.
You've been very kind.
That's all right.
This is goodbye I suppose.
Yeah, you'll never get over Johnny Dalmas.
Goodbye Lola. If anybody ever bothers you again, let me know.
Name's Marlow, Philip Marlow.
I'll remember. Philip Marlow.
I drove almost to Malibu, then I parked, then I walked way out on a rock cliff jutting into the Pacific Ocean.
Then I reached into my pocket and dug out the string of Bohemian glass pearls that Lieutenant Eborra had found in Waldo's car.
I cut the knot at one end and slipped the pearls off, one by one.
One by one I flipped them into the water.
Should have seen the gulls swoop down on them.
Then they flapped up again, screaming indignantly.
Phony pearls.
They'd fooled Waldo and Lola Barcelli, but they couldn't fool a seagull.
I said aloud, to the memory of Johnny Dalmas, just another four flusher.
I listened a while to the wheeling seagulls.
All at once I realized that the wind had died.
The Santa Ana had blown itself out.
The red wind was done, it was over.
It was cool again.
The Adventures of Philip Marlowe, created by Raymond Chandler, stars Gerald Moore and is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald.
In tonight's story, Red Wind, Lola was played by Peggy Weber and Barry Kroger was Baldy.
Joan Banks played Eugenie Kolchenko, Jeff Corey was Lieutenant Eborra, Parley Bear was Barcelli, Lou Krugman was Waldo, and Wilms Herbert played the bartender.
The special music is played by the two men, John and John.
Parley Bear was Barcelli, Lou Krugman was Waldo, and Wilms Herbert played the bartender.
The music was conceived and conducted by Ivan Dittmarz.
Philip Marlowe will be back in just a moment.
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That opportunity upon becoming a U.S. Marine is yours for the asking.
Check with your nearest Marine Corps recruiting office tomorrow for complete information.
Next week at the same time, be sure to tune in for another adventure of Philip Marlowe when Marlowe says,
I was low, very low the night I set out searching for the girl with the strange hazel eyes.
The fog which hung over Los Angeles didn't help. I felt even worse when I found her.
For by then I had death on my hands.
If you like your laughs mingled with spicy music, be around tomorrow to hear the premiere of Alka Seltzer Time featuring Herb Schreiner and Raymond Scott's quintet.
There'll be guest stars too. Here's a show that's guaranteed to keep Monday from being blue.
It's coming your way Mondays through Fridays over most of these CBS stations.
So consult your local newspaper for the time of Alka Seltzer Time.
This is Roy Rowan speaking for CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.