An iron skull was their trademark. Their business was climbing walls and it was all done on wheels at 70 miles an hour.
But that was a cinch for the death cheaters until they felt murder and a feminine touch.
From the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of crime fiction, comes his most famous character in...
The Adventures of Philip Marlowe.
Now with Gerald Moore, starred as Philip Marlowe, we bring you tonight's exciting story, The Feminine Touch.
It was five minutes to five when I turned off Sunset Boulevard and drove between the two wrought iron gates set in a stone wall.
It hinted none too subtly at the exclusiveness of the Bel Air estates.
I followed a gently curving street bordered by dignified rows of meticulously manicured palm trees.
As far as number 4412. There I turned onto a white driveway, motored over an acre of rigidly disciplined landscape...
To a house that could have doubled for Buckingham Palace, where I ground to a soft stop and got out.
Bel Air was the soul of peace and serenity until I started across the drive to the front door.
A motorcycle jet propelled by a black haired lunatic in a leather jacket with a blonde beauty riding behind him.
A handlebar missed goring me by inches. I picked myself up, mumbled a few choice words and went onto the door.
I followed a butler through the house to an aviary in the rear, where my client, Mr. Baldwin Granville...
Putted with a flock of exotic birds in a big wire cage.
He looked right at home, a penguin in sport clothes with the yellow staring eyes of an owl.
Come in Marlow, but watch the gate. The birds are all upset.
Did you hear that mechanical outburst a moment ago?
Heard I was almost run over by it. A jerk and a batty blonde dame on a motorcycle. Who were they?
The driver was no doubt one Pepper Riggs, which is all I know about him.
However, the batty blonde, as you put it, is my daughter, Adrienne.
Oh, your daughter, huh?
Yes, yes. Twenty-three and already out of school two years. The best schools, of course.
Still, it's been one crazy scrape after another. Now it's motorcycles and something even worse, I'm afraid.
That's why I called you.
Now look, Mr. Granville, I'm no truant officer. Have you or her mother tried simply talking it over with her?
She lost her mother in 33 and Adrienne refuses flatly to discuss things with me. I've tried everything from bribery to threats.
How about trying to be a father?
I'm 20 years late for that. Always been too busy making money. Now I'm worried. I think she's infatuated with this Pepper Riggs.
Well, there isn't much I can do about that. If she wants to break her neck on a motorcycle, I can't do much about that either.
Well, you can do something about this. It came to me in this morning's mail. Adrienne hasn't seen it yet.
Oh? Keep your daughter out of our hair. Make her lay off Pepper Riggs, if you know what's good for her. I mean it, Lou Bryan. Who's Lou Bryan?
I have no idea. But Adrienne's in danger, Marlow.
Well, I'll do what I can. Got anything else to go on besides two names and the motorcycle crowd?
No, no, that's all. But Marlow, listen. It may sound strange to you, but everything I've worked for all my life means nothing to me now.
I have finally realized that Adrienne is all that really matters. Don't let me down.
Something close to grief glistened in the old man's yellow eyes. But he hardened up again while we settled the matter of my fee, 100 bucks.
Then he hurried me on my way. I figured Pepper Riggs was a wild man, so my first step was a check off of the L.A. dirt track circuit, a wild man's game, if ever there was one.
The four stop I made paid off. A track manager told me that Pepper was a used to be bike racer, all right, but that he quit and was while working at the Redondo Amusement Pier as a wall climber.
When I found out what that was, it made the dirt track routine sound about as dangerous as an old lady's quilting bee.
It was 9.30 when I got out to the Redondo Pier, wandered through the concessions until I found one with a corny label, the wall of death.
It looked like a barrel, 30 feet in diameter and 20 feet high, with a grandstand over it and a picture poster in front listing,
hair-raising shows, 8, 10 and 12 p.m., featuring Pepper Riggs, the death cheater, the lovely Mickey North and smiling Lou Bryan, the one who had written a letter to my client.
Whenever Adrian Granville was mixed up in, the answer was here. I walked around the big barrel, Louis Shed and the rear. A light was on, so I went to work.
Hiya. Looking for somebody?
Yeah, yeah, you're Pepper Riggs, aren't you? My name's Marlow of High Spot Magazine. I've got a feature lined up on your act. Spare a minute?
Sure, we can talk while I finish shaving.
Shoot.
How fast do you travel around that wall?
Flip under 60 and you drop. It's no life for sissies, buddy. Any little thing goes wrong up there on the wall, and it's curtains.
Figures. Is this your bike here?
Yeah, the one with my name plate on it there.
Uh-huh. I see you carry a little iron skull tied in the handlebars. Kind of grim, isn't it?
It's my trademark, buddy. I've been knocked off the wall seven times in the last three years and beat old skull face every time.
No kidding. That makes for a nice quiet future for your fiancé.
Fiancé?
Yeah, I am. It's Granville. Gonna take her into the act with you?
Could be, buddy. Could be.
What do your partners think of that? The girl, Mickey North and Lou Bryan, I mean. Is there gonna be room for everybody?
You know something, pal? I don't think there is a magazine called High Spot.
Really? I better make a note of that.
Yeah. Adrian warned me, your old man be sending a private eye around.
So now that I've caught your act and it's corny, I've got a message for you.
Lay off, because Adrian's old enough to know what she wants.
Okay. And I've got one for you, screwball. See that she lives long enough to enjoy it.
Get out, you...
When he shoved me out the door, my first impulse was to shove back in again.
But then I heard the spiel for the ten o'clock show starting out in front, so I decided pepper rings would keep.
I walked around the drone to where a red-faced barker lashed the crowd with every known simile for danger as he whipped up excitement for the act.
I stepped up close to listen.
And an absolutely vertical wall, just hardly as well as this. Don't miss it, folks.
Show starts in 15 minutes. Come in and watch them cheat.
Hey, Sam, take over for me, quick.
When the red-faced barker stopped his eyes had been fixed on a little man in grimy overalls, hurrying across the midway.
He jumped down from the platform and ran after the little guy, so I pushed back through the crowd and followed him.
The red-faced caught up with the grimy overalls at a hot dog stand, grabbed him by one shoulder and spun him around.
Hey, what are you doing here? Hey, Moon, I want to talk to you. Oh, oh.
Are you a motorcycle mechanic or a promenade? Where you been?
I slept in, I guess, Mr. Hadley. Yeah.
You must have been real tired after last night. Last night? Why, what do you mean?
Don't star with me, Moon. I saw you coming out of the bike shed at 2.30 in the morning.
What were you doing in there in that hour? Going over the bikes.
I'm sick and tired of taking a blame for little Brian. He's holding back. He says it's because his bike ain't right, but that's not true.
He's turned yellow. That's what, and I'll prove it too. Shut up. Keep that kind of talk to yourself.
Oh, but it's true. Pepper told him the same thing. Little Brian's lost his nerve and he's holding back.
Those bikes are identical. Same make and same model. They're both in tip-top shape.
And I'm through taking a blame for a guy that's turned yellow. What do you have, man? Want something, Jess?
Yeah, a couple of coffees, bud. You, mister? Yeah, a hot dog. Nothing on it. Yes, sir. Right up.
Now, listen, Moon, you're a good mechanic. And I don't want to fire you, but there's trouble cooking around my show and I don't like it.
Here you are. Oh, thanks. Oh, sure, sure. There's going to be trouble.
You're blaming me, but you ought to blame that dizzy blonde that Pepper's mixed up with. That Adrienne Granville. She's the dame.
Hey, you big ears. Huh? This is private conversation. What are you tuning in for?
Pass a mustard, little man, and keep your greasy thumb out of it. You got secrets, you ought to know better than to broadcast them.
Yeah. Thanks for the advice. Yeah, go soak your head in it. Skip the coffee, Bert. Your place is crawling.
So long, big ears.
I watched Jess Hadley and Moon walk away, and then I went back to the wall of death, bought a ticket, and climbed the stairs of the gallery at the top of the 30-foot motor drone.
The house lights were on, but in a half darkness at the bottom of the big bowl, I saw three motorcycles in the open trap door.
The gallery was nearly full. It only took one glance around the ring of faces at the lip of the bowl to spot her.
She had insolent eyes and wide, soft, red mouth, and her hair tumbled in loose, blonde waves over the shoulders of a shimmering, white silk shirt, very wide open at her throat.
I moved up beside her and leaned on the rail.
Why don't you go home, Sherlock? I can't use a watchdog.
You flatter yourself, Adrienne. I'm here only to case a set-up. It includes your broken neck that's just another item in my report.
Is that right? Well, you're pretty, so I'll make it real easy for you.
Set-up's simply this. I like to go fast. Motorcycles do that for me. So does peppering. That satisfy you?
Not quite. You got the curves, baby, but somebody else has the angles.
Meaning what?
Well, these professionals might resent an amateur moving in.
What makes you think I'm an amateur, Mr. Marlowe? I'll compete with dear little Mickey North on any basis, curves or angles.
I got Pepper, didn't I? Now I'll have her spot in the show, if I want.
How does all this set with Lil' Brian?
Lose excess baggage, but strictly. Pepper's been carrying the whole show for weeks.
Oh, there go the housemaids. So it's been nice, Sherlock, but that makes it time to run along, doesn't it?
No, I think I'll stick around, honey, whether you like it or not.
Suit yourself, but don't stick too close. You might get run over.
When a floodlight over the center of the drone flashed on and filled the deep bowl with a dead white flare,
the performers climbed through the trapdoor and the bottom closed it behind them and mounted their bikes.
With the first roar of the motors, Adrienne gripped the railing and stared down, her eyes glistening with fascination.
And now, just as they present the just-heaters in a hair-raising exhibition of riding skills,
performed at 70 miles an hour on a vertical wall, firing Pepper Riggs,
as lovely Mickey North and smiling Lil' Brian.
It was Lil' Brian who let off, starting slowly at first, around and around the sloping base of the bowl.
Pepper Riggs watched him for a moment and looked up, waved at Adrienne and grinned, while Mickey North fled straight ahead.
There was no smile like smiling Lil' Brian's face either as he whirled faster and faster around the drone.
The bowl began to tremble with every revolution as the speeding motorcycles raced over the boards
and rose higher and higher on the vertical wall until finally it was only five feet from the rim.
Then suddenly from somewhere a black smear fell out on the white under the tires,
a smear that grew with every turn it was oil. A second later it happened.
The back wheel spitted, the bike swirmed out of Lil' Brian's control after something arrived, and then it fell!
The car was broken down, and the driver was left to die.
The driver was left to die.
Lil' Brian was dead long before they got him through the trap door and into the ambulance,
and watching him fall had put a freeze on my mind that took 20 minutes thawing out.
But when the fundamentals of addition went to work again, I started looking around,
and just in time to see Moon, the mechanic barreling a 1930 Fliver for all it was worth,
out of the parking lot and heading for the highway, lights out.
I ran to my car piled in to take after him when something long and yellow smashed into my bumper.
Can't you see where you're going?
You took the words right out of my mouth, Adrian. You timed it perfectly, didn't you?
Timed what perfectly?
That block so Moon, your grease monkey assistant, could put a few miles behind it.
Adrian, Adrian, what happened?
Marlow.
Yeah, don't worry, Riggs. Adrian here did a lovely job. Our bumpers are braided.
What? You know, I'm getting a little sick of you, Marlow.
You'll have to get sicker, Speedy, because I'm going to find out exactly why Lou Bryan died tonight,
and you're going to answer some questions.
He died because the oil line broke.
Yeah, it happens all the time to wall climbers. It was a tough break, that's all.
Oh, sure, sure. Now look, just in case you two didn't know, Lou Bryan objected to you, Adrian.
So much so, in fact, that he wrote a letter to your father threatening to rough you up if you didn't lay off.
From where I sit, somebody beat him to the punch. Guess who?
Listen, Marlow, you're running off at the mouth. If you got something to say, say it right out like a big boy.
Okay. Riggs Lou Bryan's death was no accident. It was cold, premeditated murder.
Tie that on your handlebars, death cheater.
In just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlow.
But first, the greatest jackpot in the history of radio, $54,000 in prizes and cash,
awaits the CBS listener who can solve the mystery of the Phantom Boys on our Saturday Night Sing It Again show.
$25,000 may be yours in solid cash, plus $29,000 in marvelous prizes.
There's also a host of splendid smaller prizes waiting for you listeners who can crack the riddle song.
So be around for Sing It Again tonight when it comes to you for a full hour on most of these same CBS network stations.
Now with our star, Gerald Moore, we return to the second act of Philip Marlow and tonight's story, The Feminine Touch.
I turned without another word and walked away slowly until I was out of sight.
I ran for the drum on the off chance that I could find Mickey North and a lead on Moon.
I found her alone and on a bench in an almost dark, out of the way corner of an amusement fair.
Half watching a couple of hungry seagulls who didn't know when it was time to go to bed circle overhead.
I introduced myself and got around to what was fast becoming my only point, the hunch that Lou Bryan's crack up was no accident.
I, I can't believe that Marlow.
Why not Mickey? It adds. Lou Bryan figured Adrian was breaking up a great act.
Figured she'd driven a wedge between him and Pepper and, Pepper and you.
Yeah, but that's not we for Adrian or Pepper to kill Lou Marlow.
By its lonesome, no. But there was more Mickey. Lou Bryan didn't intend to take all this lying down.
For one thing, he sent a threatening letter to Adrian's father to keep her away.
Then Marlow, you're saying that Adrian.
And or Pepper Riggs scheduled an accident for Lou Bryan.
And then Mickey, there's Moon. You know, he's shoved off without so much as now be back in a minute right after Lou cracked up.
Tell me Mickey, do you have any idea where Moon could have been heading? He was pointing away from LA.
No, I don't.
Except of course his own place. He has a little shack on Ocean Avenue number 41 over in the oil field.
But look Marlow, maybe Moon's responsible for everything. He and Lou didn't get along, you know.
Yes, I've heard. Also Mickey, I've heard that Moon was around the bikes unusually late last night.
What? Moon around? Marlow, it must have been Moon then alone.
Sure, what's the matter with me? Pepper wouldn't do a thing like that. He's too good, too decent and nice.
Still loving, don't you Mickey?
No, I don't. He means nothing Marlow.
Alright honey, let's call it a tie for the moment. It's Moon alone or the triumvirate moon rigs in Adrian Granville, right?
Yeah, I guess so. Nobody else had any reason to kill Lou, if you're sure that's what happened.
Are you Marlow? Dead sure?
Just about. Ask me again honey after I've checked the fireside at number 41 Ocean Avenue. By then I may know more.
When I got back to my car, Adrian's convertible was gone.
The pleading that had been my right fender, which said that she'd left in a hurry, cost me ten minutes of stress and strain before my front wheels would turn in either direction without chewing rubber.
Then I was another ten getting to the intersection of US 101 at Ocean Avenue, which turned out to be a paved semicircle of grime, twisting in between a dozen nodding oil well pumps that had never heard of the eight hour day.
I got out of my car and started to move quietly toward the sagging collection of scrap lumber, unpainted and unpleasant.
That was number 41. When the sudden splash of a pair of headlights sweeping my way fast sent me sprawling for cover without so much as a reason why.
I was glad that I had because it was yellow, long and convertible and behind the wheel and alone, Miss Adrian Granville.
I took that as my cue to stop sleuthing and start worrying about a guy named Moon. I moved up to his shack in a hurry.
When it showed no light and no answer to my loud knock, I closed one hand tight around the 38 in my pocket and the other over the knob on the door which wasn't locked.
Inside there was only shabby furniture of a scardulonylm and in the middle of the wall opposite me another door half open.
I started for it and what I could almost feel was going to be the too quiet form of the elusive mechanic.
The sound behind me that was not the work of the wind brought me to a dead stop.
Move one inch, mister, and I'll kill you.
I had to think I was worrying about your health.
You shouldn't have bothered. I feel fine. But you won't if there's any monkey business. I'll drop your gun.
Come on, fast. That's better. Now, what are you doing here?
Wondering why you were dumb enough to let that Granville brat talk you into murdering Lil' Brian for a price.
You're off your rocker, Phil. I didn't drop Brian. I got no money from the baby. Only Gab. Gab that kept me from packing and getting out of here.
That's a lie. I've got a photo stat of a check for 10,000 that's made out to you and signed by Adrian Granville. Turn on a light, Buster. Look for yourself.
A check for 10 grand?
Yeah.
I don't figure how my name could get out. Hey, this ain't no check.
Oh, my mistake. Here it is.
Okay, okay.
Come on, get up.
I'll tell you the truth, honest.
We'll see. First verse. You didn't kill Brian while you're running.
Because Lou and I didn't get along and just Hadley knows that I was around the bikes last night.
So what?
Buster, sometimes people start putting things together too fast. It gets other people in trouble. I know. It's happened to me before. Five years once on a lousy frame.
How unfortunate. What about Adrian Granville? What does she want with you, Moon?
I don't know, unless she belongs to the ladies' handkerchief I found near the bikes last night.
Did you say it was hers?
We didn't get that far. She ran off when we heard your car turn off in the highway. That's how come I got the drop on you.
That figures. But what doesn't figure, Moon, is why you're still holding back. So maybe we ought to bounce the mechanic around some more. Huh? What do you say?
No, please.
Come on, do we keep this up? You're going to talk? Talk!
No, no, no.
All right.
Quick, quick, quick. Will you let me alone? I'll tell you everything. Luke was always beefing at me.
Whenever Pep the Crawler, Yellow for not riding right, he took it out on me. Said I didn't keep his bike in shape. So I decided to do...
To what? What's the matter?
Outside. There, Marlow. The gun. No!
No!
When Moon grabbed at his chest with both hands, swung in a half-arc and pitched forward on his face, I yanked at the light cord in the middle of the room and then threw the door open.
The only noise I heard was the starting roar of a motorcycle about 50 feet away.
I forgot about being careful and ran out into the street and tore what was fast becoming an increasingly smaller silhouette if I couldn't say who.
When I returned to the shack and found Moon dead, I ran for my car, piled in and kept a heavy foot on the gas until I was back at the amusement pier where I figured I might find a team of Granville and Riggs standing around like nothing had happened.
When I got there, I found just that. Out on the pier was Miss Moneybags herself walking slowly away from Pepper and Mickey and toward the hot dog stand.
When I was next to her and about ready to grab on and start yelling, cop, I saw something else.
Something that didn't sink in right away. It was a tiny iron skull on an iron chain swinging from the gold charm bracelet she wore on her right wrist.
If you're taking inventory, Marlow, make it fast, will you? The next show starts in a couple of minutes and I'm going on in Lou's place and I don't have to...
That trinket there on your wrist, Adrienne. It's a miniature of the one Pepper has on the handlebars of his bike, right?
Right. It's his trademark. What about it? Does that hang all of it?
No, it just hangs one of us, if I'm right. Goodbye.
It was only a hunch and a screwy one at that, but as I ran past Mickey and Pepper who stared at me like my nose was on fire and headed for the shop out in the back where I knew I could find the bike that Lou had been killed on,
I gave myself a 50-50 chance of being right. But when I was inside the place next to the twisted jumble of steel that had once been a motorcycle, the odds jumped from there to sure thing.
Because when I passed my fingers over the chrome handlebars, I found that they were not smooth all the way. In the next second I knew more. I was not alone.
I jumped from the bike, reached for my gun and wheeled around the wrong way.
Oh, when I started back for this world, there were only two things in it.
One a sharp searing pain the length of the right side of my face and the other the crazy thought that since I was still alive I had to get to the drone and stop Adrian Granville before murder happened again.
I ran outside and around to the front where I saw that the riders trap door entrance was already closed and that the act was about to begin.
And as I heard the motors roar and a voice announced that Adrian and Mickey were going to ride together, I spotted Jess Hadley at the top of the stairs that led onto the spectators balcony.
I took the dozen steps up to him two at a time and as the house lights faded and the floods over the riders came up, I grabbed them and shouted that we had to stop the act while the bikes were still only getting underway or death would get star billing again.
What are you talking about Smilow? Murder Hadley. How do we stop those bikes? I don't know Miles, they can't hear a thing down there.
Well, it'll have to be something they can see. Get to the house lights Hadley and turn them up. I'm going to shoot out the overhead floods.
No Miles, leave a pile of girls up. Get going Hadley, I'm going to shoot. No Miles, don't.
Dr. Richard Reese, report to surgery please. Dr. Richard Reese, report to surgery please.
Well Marlow, before she blacked out the police say Mickey admitted wanting to get Pepper because she was crazy jealous of Adrian. They haven't got a straight yet about Moon's death and exactly why Lou was killed by mistake. How'd that go?
Well it went two ways Hadley. One, Mickey fixed Pepper's bike so that the oil line would give, do you get it? Then Moon convinced that Lou had gone yellow, switched the bikes to prove that Lou's constant complaint about the bikes was simply an alibi.
But here's the joker, he switched right into a double play. Lou Bryan got killed instead of Pepper.
But then after the crack up Moon knew that it should have happened to Pepper.
Oh yeah sure, but for a lot of reasons he didn't want to stick around and talk it over. When he was about to tell me the truth Mickey shot him.
Because if you knew the bikes were switched you'd look for someone with reason to kill Pepper, not Lou.
Correct. And once I did know that it was only Lou and Mickey. See I picked Mickey because for one thing her motive was stronger and for another Moon found a ladies handkerchief near the bikes. So...
Marlow, you come out here please.
Alright Mr. Granville, see you Hadley.
Yeah Marlow, catch the axe some night when we play it straight. Still a good show.
Well I'm a lucky man Marlow. The doctor says Edwin's going to be fine in a few days. She wants to see you now but it can only be for a moment you know.
Frankly Mr. Granville a moment's about all I can take. I don't exactly like your daughter.
Now Marlow none of that please. The poor child's not well. Besides she wants to apologize to you and give you my check for a hundred dollars. Now go on boy, go on she's calling for you.
Okay. Hello.
Marlow I want to ask you a question and of course apologize. I'm sorry.
What's the question?
The iron skull on my bracelet. What did it mean to you?
Oh, well it was a reminder that Pepper had one dangly from the handlebars of his bike. And that if Moon had switched bikes, which was a wild thought at the time, that which was called Lou's bike would have a worn spot on the chrome handlebars where the iron chain had rubbed. And it did.
Now my turn. You told Pepper and in particular Mickey that I was all excited about something didn't you?
Yes. Why do you ask Phil?
Because I was wondering how Mickey knew where I was so that she could come down and play crown the private detective.
Oh Phil she could have killed you.
Yes, yes. But then when she didn't I could figure that she'd given up and only wanted time.
To crash her motorcycle into mine when we were high on the wall. Is that it?
Yeah that's it. All the way around. Now if you please my check and goodbye.
Check?
Yeah.
Oh, oh yes. Here. Here it is. And for all that you've done for me.
Hey cut it out. You're supposed to be sick Adrienne. Get back in bed.
Marlow I'm not any sicker than you are. That's just to keep daddy from blowing his top. Now come here silly. I'm alright.
You sure?
I'm positive. Phil.
That's all I wanted to know. Now across my knee. Your daddy should have gotten around to this a long long time ago.
No, no, no.
I kept sweating where I figured it would do the most good. Until daddy, two doctors and a nurse came in and then I recommended that my client consult a child psychologist for his daughter and a full grown one for himself and I left.
But by the time I was outside I'd cooled off some. And it was then that I remembered I'd carelessly shoved the hundred dollar check which belonged in my wallet into a side pocket.
When I took it out and unfolded it I saw that it was all in order. Names and numbers correct.
But then as I started to put it away I saw something else. On the back and scribbled in pencil. P.S.
Working with a private detective sounds like much more fun than motorcycles. I'll be at your office first thing Monday morning.
Signed Adrian. I turned around and started back to the hospital. This was not going to be.
The Adventures of Philip Marlowe created by Raymond Chandler star Gerald Moore and are produced and directed by Norman McDonald script is by Mel Dinelli Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt featured in the cast were Barbara Eiler Ted von Elst David Ellis Virginia Greg Wilms Herbert Paul Dubov and Peter Prowse.
The special music is by Richard Oront.
Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlowe says it was only a gambler's marker a promise to pay worth a thousand bucks.
And I was hired to find it. Yeah that sounded easy until I realized that it meant the whole future to two men.
Freedom to a third and death to the girl in the cottage.
Sunday will be Mother's Day and the boy with the neighbors prize rose in his lapel and a box of cigars under his arm will be Mrs. Benny's little boy Jack ready for his idea of a proper Mother's Day celebration for an unusually hilarious Mother's Day session with America's only
thirty nine year old child prodigy here the Jack Benny show Sunday on all of these same CBS network stations. This is Roy Rowan speaking now. Stay tuned for gangbusters which follows immediately over most of these stations.
This is CBS the Columbia broadcasting system.