Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road and those who travel it
wind up in the gutter, the prison of the grave. It started with an Indian gift of
a piece of pottery and led to a brown bear and moccasins, an archaeologist,
much-laughing water, and finally death in an alley. But just to make matters worse,
the Indian giver was a female and 100% genuine, hot-blooded Apache.
From the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of Mystery,
comes his most famous character and crime's most deadly enemy as we present
The Adventures of Philip Marlowe.
Now with Gerald Moore starred as Philip Marlowe, we bring you tonight's exciting
story, The Indian Giver.
By day the industrial heart of any city is just so much steel and stone streets,
jammed full with the raucous sounds of a thousand and one different machines. But
by night all of that is gone and there are only endless smooth-sided lonely
canyons that overflow with a steady humming silence that everywhere hangs
like a distant echo of the day that's passed. And Los Angeles was no exception
at nine o'clock at night as I pulled up and parked in front of a graced curtain
storefront on a deserted downtown street that marked the showroom of the wholesale
curio dealer who had telephoned my office an hour earlier. And in a Dutch accent
lace-tight with worry it urged me to call on him at once. A raised gold lettering
on a side door that showed a strip of yellow light at the threshold said Alex
Van Nord, private, in an ornate 18th century script. So when I knocked I was
ready for something continental with thick bifocal glasses. When the door swung
open my jaw dropped to my chest and I couldn't help gaping because the huge V
of a man in front of me in cheap snug clothes, white dark hair, dark skin and
darker eyes had to be no less than a full-blooded American Indian. Moccasins
and all. What you want? Mr. Van Nord is he in? Name your business. Well it's
personal what's yours? Hate. For those who would destroy our culture.
Oh!
Oh Mr. Marlow, Mr. Marlow let me help you officer. I'm Van Nord. Are you all right?
Oh sure sure I'm fine. Hey what an engine he certainly can hit hard. Oh yes I know
he also struck me down. I tell you Mr. Marlow it's terrible. Yeah it's also a
little confusing Mr. Van Nord. Exactly why did you call me in the first place?
Oh well it began this morning when I received a shipment of Indian curios
from my buyer in Santa Fe New Mexico. Everything in the crate was in order
except one extra piece of pottery, a bowl. Bowl? Indian bowl? Yes it appeared no
place on the invoice. Oh I didn't pay much attention to it till I noticed that
the two inch wide band of inscriptions near the top were not like any others I'd
ever seen. Inscriptions? Yeah. No you mean those Indian signs broken arrow deer
wigwam kind of stuff? Yes so my curiosity was aroused and I called my representative
in Santa Fe. However he knew nothing of the bowl either so finally well I put
it in my display window there and forgot about it until about noon when a frail
Sandy head man stepped in. You know his name? No no only that he said he was an
archaeologist and that he wanted to buy the bowl. He refused to sell it huh? Why?
For two reasons Mr. Marlow. One I could see that he was fighting hard to control
his enthusiasm and two I had no idea what to charge for the bowl. I told him
to come back tomorrow again and then I removed the bowl from the window. It
wasn't until five o'clock that the second visitor appeared. Another
archaeologist? No no beautiful girl named Mona Waters. She was very sophisticated
wore an expensively tailored white smart suit no jewelry she wore whatsoever. She
described the bowl I placed in my storeroom perfectly and then asked if I
had seen such a piece of pottery or if I had one for sale. I said no. Same reason?
More or less. Anything else Mr. Van Orde? Well there isn't much more. The young lady gave me
her address the Walker Hotel on Wiltshire Boulevard room 515. Walker Hotel.
Asked me to call her if I came across a bowl like the one she described. Then she
left. Naturally my interest at this time was near the bursting point. Naturally
what'd you do about it? The only sensible thing I knew of. At six o'clock I closed
my place and I went to the public library to borrow a book and hieroglyphics
of the Indians of the southwest. When I got back I found a rear door forced and
poof the bowl was gone. And you called me? Yes. Then this Indian shows up he claims I
would rob his people of everything and then he hit me. Makes perfect sense to
him though though. Yes. No. Will you try to recover the bowl for me please? Well if you can
answer one question without stumbling yes. Why no police Mr. Van Orde? Because
objects of art Mr. Marlow aside from their intrinsic worth and the clay bowl
has none are only valuable for resale. Create a public disturbance such as the
police and the thief will destroy the object and another day steal again.
No please, please you try Mr. Marlow. Yeah I'll try all right Mr. Van Orde. And when it comes to our
two-fisted brave who's so crazy about the preservation of Indian culture I'll try
real hard. Good night sir.
Van Orde's enthusiasm and the hundred bucks he pressed into my hand before I
left were encouraging and I drove straight to the Walker Hotel on Wilshire
Boulevard where a moment after I entered the plush lobby encouragement came once
more. Because gliding from a travel agency booth toward a cocktail lounge was
what my client had described as beautiful girl, expensively tailored, smart
white suit, no jewelry whatsoever. But when we were both inside and at adjoining
stools at the bar where the soft lights accented her high cheekbones and jet
black hair I knew that Mr. Van Orde had skipped something important because in
spite of a full-mouth neatly rouged eyebrows pencil come hither and a
coiffure shingled vintage 1949, mono waters could also be full-blooded
American Indian which is what I was working on when she turned blew a smoke
signal in my face and spoke with an accent that was about as Apache as
Vassar. Don't let me make you lose your place but do you mind telling me why
you're staring? I collect the reasons for a hobby you know like some people save
stands. Uh-huh and others pottery. Who are you? A ceramics fiend named Smith. Now
Mona let's talk about you. Why? Because I've already been offered ten thousand
dollars for the bowl. Good enough? You have the bowl where? Well not in my pocket
honey it's too bulky. I've got it tucked safely away outside in my car. Oh? Yeah you
know you didn't hide it very well after you stole it from Van Nord. You've been
in my room. Could be. How do we talk business yes or no? Yes. What do you want
to know? Well for one thing what's the bowl to you? Everything. It's mine all
mine via primogeniture. Which is Apache for what? Listen Mr. Smith I'm an Indian
all right and an Apache at that but I was born in a duplex not a TP. I drink
martinis not fire water and I've got a Mills College diploma and an IQ that'll
probably make yours look sick so let's clear the air in a hurry. Yeah well let's
clear enough. Now smart boy my late uncle George Waters also known as chief
laughing waters. Giggle if you want to. Own the bowl you want ten thousand
dollars for. So? So a long time ago he willed it to my father. However my father
died a year ago leaving only me as heir apparent. Hence that bowl is mine all mine
via primogeniture which brings us right back to where we were. Except you haven't
mentioned why the bowl means so much to you. And I won't. No will you pay the
ten thousand bucks huh? I didn't say that and I won't say anything more until I see
that bowl. Now I've got to make a couple of calls. Should take about 20 minutes.
After that I'll be in my room. Please call before you come up and if you don't
have the bowl. Don't come up. Okay baby fair enough so long.
It had been the kind of conversation piece where in each party is quite sure
that the others are liar but not quite sure why. So a moment after I was on the
sidewalk and out of Mona's site I dotted for the side of the hotel in the rear
entrance where I made my way to a self-service freight elevator that got
me to the fifth floor. Just as the Apache with gloss closed the door to a room at
the far end of the carpeted hallway. I was about halfway there when it came.
The door to 515 wasn't locked and when I threw it open I found about what I'd
expected. Mona slumped in a corner of the room pride-hurt only and opposite her a
wide-open window which I figured led to a fire escape until I was standing next
to it and saw that there was nothing but sheer wall that plunged five stories to
the sidewalk below. And on a line with the hotel's fourth floor a rooftop but at
best was a good 15 feet away. When I closed the window and turned back to the
room Mona was already on her feet. That sly jerk he waited till I had the door
closed behind me and then he swung. Oh brother when we meet again. Oh Mona who
did he get the bowl? Get the bowl I thought you had that Smith. I was kidding and you
know it now once more who was it his name Mona. Jimmy Brown Bear. Jimmy which?
Brown Bear. Smitty a lot of Indians have Indian names it's a custom. Try not to
fall apart every time you hear one. I will if you'll stop being persecuted I
think Indians are all good Americans now tell me about the big brown bear. Okay.
All right. He's absolutely sold the bowl the priceless tribal heirloom the white
men trying to steal he's playing nuts. Who else would try a jump like that from a
fifth-story window. Yeah quite a hop if he actually made it. What do you mean if
nobody fell? No maybe nobody jumped either. Maybe you make up heaped big
story baby hide bowl here in closet then fall on floor tell wild tale a screwball
Apache that'll be smart. Yeah but also smart if you take long nose out of
Indian girls affairs before it get blown off stand still buster. Oh tomahawk
caliber 38 how unfriendly. But effective. Now Smith what's your real name? Sammy
Blue Ox my father calls me. Listen junior let me clear up a very important point. That
Indian bowl in some strange way is the answer to the location of enough lost
Spanish gold to keep you me and everyone we ever met off the bread line from here
on out. Okay I'm intrigued with the point you were going to clear up. Does this I've
got a dandy idea where I can find both the bowl and Jimmy Brown bear right now.
That's something I want to do or buy my lonesome. I back into that closet and
keep quiet. While you head where? On the warpath via bus. I'm a hot-blooded Apache
remember. So long baby. There are times when things look like enough without
staying put in a dark closet so I kicked the lockspun of the casing and walked out
in room 515 just in time to hear a timid knock on a hall door. When it opened up
one frail sandy-haired man wanted information. Oh I beg your pardon sir. Can
you possibly tell me where I can find Miss Mona Waters? Who are you? My name is
Clark Erskine. I'm an archaeologist. I'm sorry friend I can't say any more than
Miss Waters is out after a wild light Apache who's got a piece of pottery
tucked underneath his arm. What? Oh not the bowl it's supposed to be in Van Nord's
place. Not Jimmy Brown Bear. Yeah right on both counts Mr. Erskine but what makes
the name Brown Bear ring a bell? You two met before? Well we certainly have. Why
that idiot has hampered every archaeologist who is so much a set foot
in New Mexico. Now that you've mentioned it Mr. Erskine why your keen interest in
the bowl? What does it mean to you? What does it mean to me? Yeah. Well by good men
those inscriptions circled around it are going to prove invaluable. Possibly
another Rosetta stone. An open sesame to the countless undecipherable writings
we've already collected. About Spanish gold maybe. Spanish gold? Oh sir what are you
talking about? Nothing. Look Erskine one question how did you know that Mona
Waters was staying here at this hotel? It wasn't simple to learn. When Mr. Van Nord
refused to sell the bowl to me until tomorrow I wanted to be certain that he
also didn't sell it to anyone else so I watched his showroom. Oh that's smart.
Then when I saw Miss Waters there I recognized her at once as an Apache and
I followed her here where I found out her name and room number. Now I'm going to
wait for her until she returns. I'm not going to give up. That bowl means too much.
Wait a minute. Hold it Erskine. You happen to know Jimmy Brown Bear's
hometown? Come on quick. Well yes I do. It's in Cicona, New Mexico. Cicona, New
Mexico? By bus. Thank you friend. I'm sorry to have to leave you to do your
waiting alone but I got to catch a bus. But where Mr. Moirle? At the downtown
central bus depot to put cart before horse to turn tables a switch. In short
Mr. Erskine to track an Indian. So long.
In just a moment the second act of Philip Marlowe but first you meet many an old
friend from the wide field of music every Sunday afternoon when the
choraleers and the symphonette are heard on most of these same CBS station. This
Sunday the fine voices of the choraleers will recall such old favorites as I've
been working on the railroad, the best things in life are free and Janine I
dream of lilac time. The symphonette will bring you the overture from the Bohemian
Girl, a Strauss composition and a stirring march among others. Be sure to
hear the symphonette and the choraleers to find your old friends and favorites
every Sunday. Now with our star Gerald Moore we return to the second act of
Philip Marlowe and tonight's story the Indian giver.
Tracking an Indian over the busy concrete of downtown Los Angeles sounds
a lot tougher than turned out to be. Apparently a six feet four Apache in a
full crown black hat and moccasins was an oddity even in a city of oddities and
everyone who'd seen him remembered him from the guy behind the bus depot's
ticket desk the newsboy outside the Flophouse nearby where Jimmy Brown Bear
had made camp. The next bus was still 45 minutes away so I decided to visit the
Flophouse but Jimmy Brown Bear must have seen me coming and was expecting
trouble because when I stepped into the hall I saw him duck out the back door to
the alley. I ran after him and watched him turn down what would have been a dead end
to a normal man but Jimmy made a jump at a nine-foot wall caught the top and was
pulling himself up when it happened. Jimmy stiffened on the wall.
When the second shot came he dropped rigidly like a poison fly and lay very still.
I started over to him but stopped at the excited voice of a cabbie running toward
me from the open end of the alley. Hey mister, hey what happened? I heard a couple of shots him and I...
Uh-oh. Yeah that's what you heard. Holy Mackle-ette. Hey wait wait that's the Indian. You mean you
knew him too? Yeah I hauled him around in my cab tonight. Who did it mister? You?
Don't be silly will you? The shots could have come from any place. Any one of
those windows is own fire escape. Oh yeah? Yeah. Between those buildings there that...
Hey that dame running for the street will you get out of my way? Not so fast buddy
you know her? Yes I know her Mona Waters. Brother will you get the cops over here
right away will you? I gotta catch that girl. No chance mister she's long gone.
Oh no. Oh no. Van Nord. Oh I certainly didn't expect to find you here. What in the world is
going on here? Among other things murder. Yeah it's that Indian Mr. Van Nord. The
same one. Oh good heavens. Mr. Marlow did this happen because of the bowl? No God.
Mona Waters just got away between those two buildings. I'm pretty sure she's the
one who took the bowl out of your place tonight because Jimmy Brown Bear got it
away from her later. She's got it back again and he winds up like that. Then you
think the girl killed him to recover the bowl? Right now I'm too bald up to
think anything. Say just a minute how do you manage to show up here? Why I... I
started home on this man's taxi and found out that he was the one who brought
Mr. Brown Bear to myself tonight. Yeah that's right. I picked the Indian up
right out here on the corner. So we came down here because I thought if we found
where the Indian was staying it might be a help to you Marlow. You were waiting
in the cab when he was shot? No no I started into this place alone and then I
thought better of it and came out to get you cabbie to come in with me. Then I
heard the shots. Now look Mr. Van Nord you better keep your nose out of this mess.
Go on home and sit on your curios. I'll call you when I got something.
Assuming that my client's story was true and that he did have the cabbie to back
him up, I got in my car and headed back to the walker house. I parked at the side
of the hotel and started to that convenient rear door again when I saw
the commotion of half a dozen excited passers-by bending over a man stretched
out on the sidewalk. Hey how do you like that? It's enough to make a fatalish out of you ain't it?
Absolutely what happened? Why that poor guy there is walking along mind his own
business and practically gets his back broke by a hunk of pottery some jerk
must have heaved out of one of them windows up there. Pottery? You mean a bowl
maybe? A bowl? I don't know it broke all the smithereens it was plenty heavy
though it was about hey hey look look here's a chunk of it. Let me see that. Oh sure
brown clay with symbols carved on it. Indian symbols. Listen buddy what window
did that come out of? Anybody see? No no they're all dark up there we can't figure it out.
Hey what's the matter where you going?
There was no doubt about it a broken piece of pottery I had clenched in my hand must
have come from the Indian bowl. I ran inside rode the elevator up to the fifth
floor again and beat it down the hall to 515. Sprawled out on the floor inside was
Clark Erskine the archaeologist making a valiant but wobbly effort to get back on
his feet. I dropped the chunk of bowl in my pocket and gave him a hand. Come on
fellow up you go come on. Take it easy sit over here and tell me what happened to
you. Where am I? Who are you? Marlow Marlow remember you're in room 515 of the Walker House. When I
left you were waiting for Mona Waters but I came back to find you spread out on
the floors flat as that puddle of ink there on the desk blotter. Now you take it
how come all this? Oh yes I I remember now I was struck. Yeah yeah. But Marlow
the light's are out. And they better left that way unless you want a room full of
irate citizens. Who struck you? I have no idea. I was sitting at the desk there
writing Miss Waters a note because I decided not to wait any longer when I
was hit from behind. That explains the spilled ink. What about the open window
was closed when I left. Open window? Why that's strange. Strange it's screwy nuts.
What do you mean? Mr Marlow just what is your position in this business? I'm a
private detective working for Mr Van Norden. I'll tell you something else.
Whoever slugged you open that window and sail the precious Indian bull right out
into thin air five stories high. Smash down there on the sidewalk. Oh the bowl
is gone? Destroyed? Oh no. Oh yes. Well that's hideous. The markings on that
bull were priceless. Why Marlow Great Scott why was it destroyed? That's what I mean.
See it's screwy. Oh wait a minute I'll get it. Hello. Miss Mona Waters please. It's urgent. Interstate Airlines calling.
She's out I'll take the message. Oh thank heavens. We want to rectify a perfectly ghastly mistake.
We're afraid the relief operator may have given Miss Waters 2 12 a.m. instead of 1 12 a.m.
as the departure time of her plane tonight. But baby it's 12 30 now if she leaves at 1 12.
I know we're just sick about it. Can she make it? I hope not. I'll do my best to deliver your message in person.
You're a dear girl for calling. Goodbye. What was it Marlow? Something important?
Not archaeologically. I'll see you later. Oh wait wait isn't there anything we can do about the bowl?
Oh sure get a bottle of glue and a dustpan and hop to it. So long Erskine I'm off to the field of the Thunderbirds.
Music
Alright you don't fall over. Oh fine. Now look officer I was just. Never mind.
Well Mac you're betting a thousand. You pulled out of the hotel driveway two blocks back.
Ran one full stop and a red signal getting this far. That's great. So what's your story?
Been drinking? Not a drop believe me. Now look I've got to get to the airport in a hurry. Why?
To catch an Indian girl. Guy named Jimmy Brown Bear was murdered tonight because a bowl was stolen.
Wait a minute hold it. Who was murdered? Oh I know what's it you. There's no use in going into it.
Officer my name is Marlow. I'm a private detective working on a case and I got to get to the airport.
Private eye huh? Let's see your papers. Oh sure sure. Here they're all here. I.
Mm hmm. Marlow license number. Hey what's eating you? What are you staring at?
Blue black lines on the palm of my hand. They look just like. Holy smoke they are. That's the answer.
I got to get back to that hotel. It's a matter of life and death. Now just give me a ticket. Give me three tickets.
Only let me get back to the Walker house right now. Well your life depends on it. You better be right Marlow.
Wait till I stop the traffic then make a U turn. Now go ahead.
Made it back to the hotel in something under seven minutes for the round trip.
I ran for the elevator waited for the car to come down and when the gate opened bumped head on into Clark Erskine himself.
I backed him into the elevator again at gunpoint and pushed the fifth floor button. I didn't say a word.
By the time the elevator stopped and the gate slid open he was beginning to sweat.
Marlow I just don't understand this. Why is it gun? Take a guess Erskine. I want to know what happened to Mona Waters.
I don't know she didn't come back. Here this is 515 remember go on open it up and get inside.
Now listen you I know who killed Jimmy Brown Bear and I found out plenty about the bulls so talk. Where's Mona?
Behind you with a gun in my hand so don't move. Oh great well at least you're okay.
Except for a headache yes. I just woke up in the bedroom with a heap big lump on my scalp and I know a pale face who's gonna pay for that.
Drop your gun Marlow drop it. Now who's this character here and where's the bull?
Marlow headed Miss Waters. I saw him hit you and take it. I tried to stop him but he hit me too. My name is Erskine I'm an archaeologist.
I only wanted to make a scientific study of the bull but this vandal here has destroyed it.
Destroyed it? Marlow!
Quiet down Red Wing and listen before you start shooting there's a lot of wampum at stake if nothing else now keep that in mind.
Okay Big Wind start blowing speak your piece and keep it straight. He's a treacherous liar Miss Waters. I know I'm braced for that.
No you sweetheart you all right. The inscriptions on that bull were the key to the treasure which is probably no news to you two.
You didn't know how to work it Mona but Erskine here did. He found out that some of the lines were etched into the clay and others were raised like the face of type in a printing press.
Do I go on? Pray do professor. All right now look if you look closely beautiful you'll see ink on his fingers.
Also you'll notice that a bottle of ink poured out on your desk blotter there made the same kind of ink pad you use for a rubber stamp.
That ink was spilled by accident now don't listen to him because. Shut up! Go on Marlow.
Well after he knocked you out and left you in the bedroom all he had to do was roll that wide flat border of the bull through the ink.
Then roll it again over blank paper and it printed. What's more baby if we look real close we'll find a perfect printed map on your hotel stationary stuck in one of his inside pockets.
No you don't you'll never get the chance. Marlow the gun on the floor is gone. Jack, Mona lights out.
Marlow? Marlow are you all right? Yeah yeah I'm okay.
Then I did shoot the right man.
Cream and sugar Miss Walters. Thanks. Well that's about the story Mr. Van Orde.
Mona here slipped the Indian bull into your shipment to keep it away from the guys she knew were after it.
And of course she had to follow the bull here to LA. Erskine followed her. I see. It's amazing isn't it? Positively amazing.
Marlow how did you discover that the intricate pattern on the bull worked like a printing press?
Oh well after Erskine had made his print of the map he threw the bull out the window to smash it so no one else could duplicate it.
I got hold of a chunk of it and clenched it in my hand.
I found out later when I passed that cop my credentials that a chunk of pottery had left separate distinct lines of ink on my palm.
Terribly clever isn't he Mr. Van Orde? Oh take it easy baby. Indeed he is clever Miss Walters.
But what of poor Jimmy Brown Bear? Well Erskine followed me from the hotel at Jimmy's place and shot him so I'd never have a chance to talk to him.
He was a ruthless little guy, Clark Erskine. But if he survives that bullet wound the state will get him for murder.
Yeah. Oh Miss Walters you'll have to hurry and finish your breakfast so that you can catch your plane.
But before you go I have a little gift for you. Excuse me I'll get it.
And Marlow speaking of gifts I have one for you. Come here.
Oh baby that's nice. Is it for keeps? Of course not silly. I'm an Indian giver remember.
When I come to town again I'll be rich and reckless and loaded with all that old Spanish gold.
That's when I'll take my gift back here with interest. So long Filthy.
Well when I finally got home completely fagged out at ten o'clock in the morning I took one look at my favorite chair.
The big deep soft one. And then sank down into it good and hard.
Oh something that felt like a broken beer bottle stabbed me.
I reached for it and it turned out to be the jagged chunk of the Indian bowl I dropped in my pocket earlier.
The first time I really looked at the hieroglyphics on it there were three Indian figures.
The first was breaking sticks into uneven lengths. The second was holding a small fish and the third was running away with all the wampum.
It took me a long time but I finally got it I think. The Indian picture message could only be translated one way.
It had to mean never give a sucker and even break. And right then and there I thought about Mona and what she'd said.
That's when I'll take my gift back again with interest. So long Filthy.
So long baby.
The Adventures of Philip Marlowe bringing you Raymond Chandler's most famous character and crime's most deadly enemy star Gerald Moore.
Tonight's story was produced and directed by Cliff Howell. Script is by Mel Dinelli, Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt.
Featured in the cast were Betty Lou Gerson, Hans Conrad, Clark Gordon, Howard Culver, Peter Leeds, Jane Webb and Jane Avello.
The special music is written and conducted by Richard O'Ronn.
Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlowe says.
Inside of two hours a lavish mansion seethed with suspicion. A sealed cabin filled with gas and an artist's retreat had a corpse on the floor.
All because one man was too good looking to be true to anyone.
There'll be a couple of unusual twists for mystery fans on Gangbusters and on Basil Rathbone's Adventure tonight.
Gangbusters will present a former chief of detectives on the New York City police narrating the case of a bet on a long shot that ended in murder.
Basil Rathbone's drama will find that suave gentleman going to jail himself in order to deliver a man to the police.
This is Roy Rowan speaking.
Now stay tuned for Gangbusters which follows immediately over most of these same CBS stations.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.