Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road.
And those who travel it wind up in the gutter of the prisoner in early grave.
There's no other end. But they never learn.
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 transcribed story, The Fox's Tale.
Oh no. There are some times when the phone just never should have been invented.
Hello, Marlowe speaking.
This is Oren Metcalfe. You remember me, don't you Marlowe?
Oh sure Barrister, what can I do for you?
Meet me here at the Blue Chip Bar at once, Marlowe.
Look, I can hardly hear you. Speak up, will you, Oren?
The Blue Chip Bar. It's a miserable cafe on Melrose near La Brea.
Melrose near La Brea?
Yes, I'm in a booth, the last one on your right as you enter. But be careful Phil, we can't afford to be seen.
And please hurry, I'll pay you handsomely.
To do what, Oren?
To impersonate a dead man.
The Blue Chip was an indelicate assortment of stale smells, surrounding pictures of Lady Godiva, some without horses,
and featuring low lights, lower clientele, and the lowest grade of bar whiskey.
Against that backdrop, my new client stood out like a Dresden doll in a police lineup.
Oren Metcalfe, in spite of the electricity in his voice, was only five and a half feet tall, couldn't have weighed more than 130 pounds,
including the glitter of honorary fraternity pins that dangled from his watch chain.
He was maybe 50, bald, wore glasses halfway down a long nose, and at the moment, was as nonchalant as a five inch firecracker with a spluttering fuse.
Quickly, Phil, quickly, sit down, sit down, listen carefully.
It's going to be hard in here, but go ahead.
I am representing a man named Kuvion in a lawsuit. Rudolf Kuvion.
Yeah?
He's a manufacturing chemist, Hungarian born at present Phil in a sanitarium. The nervous system will take just so much, you know?
Yeah, I know, and look, this Rudolf Kuvion, is suing or being sued, which?
He's suing, and nobody less than his former employer, the eminent Justin Shepard.
Justin Shepard, well, he, uh, turns out cosmetics, doesn't he? Makeup, lipstick, that kind of stuff.
Yes, stuff, Marlow, which includes a new and revolutionary nail polish that's worth a fortune.
Which was invented by your client and stolen from him by Justin Shepard, huh?
Exactly. We're suing for $250,000 in damages, Marlow, but we'll settle out of court for $150,000 in cash.
Hello.
Jesus, I didn't expect this. I've never heard of the trial before, Lettuce.
It's the most� you've ever been.
bought off or frightened away by Shepherd and his crew with one exception.
You're racing the hole, huh? Yes, a man named Max Redmond. He worked with Rudolph
Cuvion years ago in Chicago when Cuvion first perfected the lacquer base which
makes the nail polish formula so valuable. Redmond's testimony could have
swung everything our way and Justin Shepherd found this out. Wait a minute,
wait a minute, what do you mean could have, Oram?
Two bears has ordered thirty cents, gents.
We were even. Thanks. Now, Marlow, the dead man I spoke of and Max Redmond are one
and the same. Shepherd murdering? Worse, he drove Max Redmond to suicide, Marlow.
The man shot himself an hour ago. I don't follow that. Well, Redmond was staying here
in LA with his wife. Now I'll tell you the address in a moment. It's nearby and
although neither Shepherd nor his cronies ever got to see Redmond, they knew where
he was and where he came from. With that, they went to work. Blackmail? Oh, yes. Years
ago, Redmond got in a jam. I have no idea what it was, something he was
conscious-stricken about and Shepherd uncovered it, then got through to Redmond
on the phone. He struck home. His blackmail price was Redmond's silence, huh?
Right you are. Shepherd told him to get out of town, but when I talked to Redmond
an hour ago, he was positive that Shepherd would demand more in the future.
Redmond was really hysterical, said he wished he'd never heard of me or
Rudolph Cuvial, and then he hung up. Well, when I got to his apartment, I found him
dead, shot by his own hand. His pistol is his side. Oh, it was awful. Yeah. Tell me, Orrin, what
about Redmond's wife? Well, her name is Louise. She's out of town right now. He was
afraid for her and made her go away. At any rate, Phil, you see what I'm getting at,
don't you? The reason I want you to work for me? Yeah, I think so. Shepherd and his
buddies don't know Redmond's killed himself, and if I give the impression by
posing as Redmond that he's still alive and not leaving town, Shepherd will
figure that his blackmail angle didn't work, huh? He'll get together with you and
settle before tomorrow morning when Redmond would have taken the witness stand.
Precisely, Phil. A hundred and a half settlement as against the quarter ward
of a quarter of a million means a saving of a hundred thousand dollars to
Shepherd. He'll pay it as long as he thinks Redmond's still alive and willing
to testify. Well, now, will you do it, Marlow? Poses as Redmond, huh? There's a thousand dollars in it for him.
I don't know. A thousand dollars, Phil, and Rudolph Cuvion, helpers in the sanitarium, and
Max Redmond. It's an awful lot to turn down, isn't it, Orrin? Thank you. Thank you. Now then,
here's the deal. Oh, wait a minute, how about... No questions. Every minute counts.
Now, I've got Redmond's top coat right here. Now, you put it on when you leave, and here
are the keys to his apartment. It's the Garden Court Apartments on South Ogden.
South Ogden? Yes, right. Now, you sneak inside, and a minute later, very obviously, go out
again. Get into his car. It's a new green Nash. Drive up into the Hollywood Hills
along Lookout Road. Why then? Well, Redmond drove up there a lot. Now, later, return to
the apartment. He'll probably be followed as Redmond always was, and the man will be
a big and muscular, and in a black coupe. Now, once they know that Redmond... But that's
you, of course. Yeah, sure. Doesn't intend to leave town. There may be an attempt in your
life. So, watch your step. Getting killed as Redmond destroys the illusion we're out
to create. That's not all it destroys. Eh? It may destroy me.
It played his outline. A minute after I drove Redmond's car out of his garage and conspicuously
signaled a left turn with a plaid sleeve, I picked up my escort. His headlights stayed
in my rearview mirror all the way along Sunset Boulevard and then up into the hills along
Lookout Road. I drove slowly until I cleared a hairpin turn and spotted a flat open lot
about 100 yards ahead and to my right. It overlooked the city below and was dotted with
cement bags, piles of lumber, and bulldozer that had gone to bed hours ago. I swerved
off the road sharply, cut my lights and parked close to the edge of the cliff. Then I piled
out of the car and quickly set up the oldest trick in the book. I took off the plaid coat,
tossed it over a shoulder-high board jutting out of a lumber pile, topped it with my hat
and ran for cover behind the bulldozer. I got there just as the black coupe pulled in,
cut its lights and ran to a stop. Then I saw something big and beefy get out and start
sawing the coat and ugly snub-nosed gun in hand. I reached for my.38 and slowly moved
through the ankle-deep weeds until I was only a few feet behind him. When he fired at the
coat I was only inches away. What the? Does that make it my turn? Don't try it! You're
not Redmond. And not a lot of people. Drop your gun. Go on! What are you going to do?
I'll ask the questions. What's your name? Gaffney. Working for Justin Shepard? No, no,
no, I was just... You're just a liar! That's nothing compared to what's in store for you.
No, I'm quit. I work for Shepard all night. And you were tagging me thinking I was Redmond
to see if I was going out of town. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I had orders to knock your... I mean,
knock Redmond off if he didn't go straight for the airport. But that's all honest. I
don't know anymore. Get up! Walk over to that tool bin there. Open it and get in. Go on,
go on. Keep moving and keep your hands open. All right. I want to have a little chat with
Justin Shepard, his home address. What is it? He ain't got one. He stays in hotels. Right
now it's the Beekman Plaza in Beverly Hills. Now quit, will you? That's all I know. Sure,
sure. You see, Earl, I believe you. You've got such an honest face. You're a killer!
Sweet dreams, buster. Two dozen gladiolas and one dozen golden iris. Yes. And deliver
them here to the desk of the Beekman Plaza Hotel. No, it's not in Santa Monica. It's
in Beverly Hills. It has been for years. Goodbye. Stupid, stupid people. Yeah, they're just
everywhere, aren't they? Indeed. May I help you, sir? Yes, I was looking for Mr. Justin
Shepard, is he in? Oh, yes. And sir, you could almost reach out and touch him. No, really?
Yes, that's he over there reading the paper in the Louis 14th chair. The Louis 14th? You
see him? The short round man to one side of that woman wearing that stunning taffeta.
That what? Stunning taffeta. You see, it's appliqued with those bright red roses. Oh,
yeah, I couldn't miss him. Turn right at the stunning taffeta. Goodbye. You're quite welcome,
sir. Welcome indeed. Goodbye. Mr. Shepard? That's right. My name is Philip Marlowe. I'm
a private detective. I know. I've heard of you. What's on your mind, Mr. Marlowe? A chemist.
What about him? What does he have to do with me? Earl Gaffney. Who is Earl Gaffney? A louse
who missed, like the rest of them will. Max Redmond is still alive and I intend to keep
him that way. Good night, Mr. Shepard. See you in court. The effect was great. The fat
man's mouth fell open and his chin jellied all over his chest. Now, let it go at that.
The illusion was established. As far as Justin Shepard and company were concerned, Max Redmond
was very much alive and kicking up the kind of trouble that they didn't want. But twenty
minutes later, when I let myself into the dead man's apartment and walked into his bedroom,
I knew the illusion was only an illusion. Max Redmond's body was sprawled at a crazy
angle across the bed. I wondered what he could have possibly done to take this easy way out.
I stopped wondering when the front door closed. It was a woman with the deepest brown eyes
I'd ever seen. What are you doing here? Who are you? My name is Max Redmond. You're lying.
Where is Max? Tell me, where is he? He's in the bedroom. You a friend of his? I'm his
wife and I'm going to speak to him. Don't try to stop me. I won't Mrs. Redmond. Go ahead.
In just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlowe. But first, Bing Crosby climaxes his
season on CBS this Wednesday night with a terrific lineup of top talent. Arthur Godfrey,
Bob Hope, Perry Como, and the four Crosby sons who've attracted nationwide attention
as his guests earlier this year. Bing, Arthur Godfrey, Bob Hope, Perry Como, and the youngsters
will be heard in a great musical roundup of the season's top tunes. So be listening this
Wednesday when on most of these same CBS stations, the Bing Crosby Show comes along with these
top guests. Now with our star, Gerald Moore, the second act of Philip Marlowe, and tonight's
play, The Fox's Tale. Louise Redmond's dark troubled eyes stared at the bedroom door for
their first minute.
Come in, come in.
Come in.
demasiado.
Too bad.
in his past that he couldn't live with any longer.
You know what it was, Louise?
I don't believe any of this.
You were in here posing as Max.
You're responsible for his death, but you won't get away with it.
Give me that gun.
Little fool, let go.
I said let go.
That's better.
Smart enough to give in fast anyway.
Now sit down over there and listen.
Why are you...why are you here?
I'm Philip Marlowe, hired by Orrin Metcalf.
You know him?
Yes.
He found Max like that.
They couldn't let Shepard know that the case against him was dead,
so he hired me to keep up the illusion that Max was still alive and not wrong.
Metcalf is sure that Shepard will crack before morning.
But we'll need your cooperation, Louise.
How about it, huh?
When you took that gun away from me, you smashed my only picture of Max.
You couldn't even leave me that intact.
I'm sorry.
I know it's going to be tough on your baby, but...
Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute.
Louise, did Max write that on the picture there?
Yes.
To my Louise.
With love...
Louise, listen to me now.
This backhand script was Max left-handed.
Yes, but what does that...
He was shot in the right temple.
You mean that someone killed him?
That's the general idea, yeah.
Justin Shepard.
The man Max intended to testify against.
No, not unless he's a lot slicker than I think.
But he has an assistant, a tough one, named Gaffney.
He was watching this place when I took over.
If he did it, then followed me.
He wouldn't have had a chance to report to his boss.
I don't understand. Followed you where?
Oh, to that lot on Lookout Road where Max liked to go.
I caught Gaffney there and filed him away in a tool bin.
I'd better go and have another chat with that boy right now.
You wait here.
Here.
Now, look, baby, we can't quit.
You've got to finish the job Max started for his old friend Cuvian,
and better than that, maybe we can get Max's killer too.
Are you game?
I'll do as you say.
As I went out to Redmond's car, several things bothered me.
And not the least of them were Louise Redmond's dark, deep eyes.
When I got in the car, I felt the pistol that had killed Max.
It was in my pocket where I dropped it after I'd taken it away from the girl.
I pulled it out and looked at it.
It was a Belgian Browning 765 automatic.
I broke it apart, and then on a hunch, I slipped it back together,
got out of the car again, and took the gun up to Louise.
I don't know much about guns, Marlow.
All you may have to do is point it, Louise.
The threat will probably be enough.
In case it isn't, that's the safety catch there on the side.
I'll be back as soon as I can.
When I pulled out onto the vacant hilltop lot, I centered the tool bin in the headlights.
I was out of the car and wading through the foot-high foxtail grass
before I noticed that the stick I'd shoved through the hasp was now on the ground.
I ran the rest of the way and jerked the lid open.
Gaffney was gone.
I started to close the lid, but stopped at something in the bottom of the bin.
I'd have liked that coiled rattlesnake better.
It was a glistening, sticky puddle and it was blood.
The scream had come from a hollow beside the lot I ran toward it.
I saw two kids in a parked car, scared stiff and staring into a tangle of brush in front of them.
Oh, mister! Mister, there's a man down there.
He's hurt, bad!
Where? Show me.
In that brush. We both saw him.
He stood up just a second ago and he started to hurt us.
There was blood all over him.
And then he fell down again.
Okay, get your girl out of here. Get back to your car.
Okay, mister.
Oh, hey, holy cats.
You're Philip Marlowe, the detective.
I've seen your picture lots of times.
All right, be a good fan and stay out of the way.
The guy's dangerous. Go on.
Yeah, okay. Come on.
Gaffney, who did it, Gaffney?
It's a fray.
Yeah?
You know what? I just spill and...
Who Gaffney? Who knows? Who?
Yeah.
Hey, mister Marlowe. Hey, mister Marlowe.
Did you... Did you find him, mister Marlowe?
Yeah, I found him, son. He's dead.
Holy cats.
Now look, do me a favor, will you?
Get to a phone and report this to the police.
Oh, yeah, sure.
Tell them I'll get in touch with them as soon as I can.
Okay. Sure, mister Marlowe. Yeah, right away.
My next stop had to be Justin Shepard's hotel.
And now I had more to go on than a couple of hints from left field.
Just as I pulled up in front, I saw Shepard behind 16 cylinders of imported limousine,
swinging away from the curb.
He seemed in no particular hurry, so I tailed him far enough to realize that he could be heading to Max Redmond's apartment.
Then I took off through the side streets wide open.
I got back to the apartment in time to brace Louise for Shepard's visit.
But Marlowe, what... what can I do? Maybe I'd better...
Maybe you'd better let him in. Go ahead.
Yes?
Stand aside, young woman. I'm coming in.
Please do, Shepard.
What? You again.
Nice of you to drop in. What have you got in the bag? Lunch?
Don't be facetious. And don't worry, it's all here.
I know when I'm beaten. I suppose it would be quite pointless to ask where Redmond himself is.
Completely pointless at this late date.
Very well. Then I assume I'm to leave this with you.
That's right.
It had better be right, my boy. Believe me. Good night.
Just a minute. How come you're running your own errands?
You took care of that yourself earlier tonight.
You're a competent man. You should be working for me.
Working for you has its drawback, Shepard.
But your muster, Gaffney, didn't die right away.
Gaffney's dead?
Marlowe, be careful.
He lived long enough to tell me he was framed, Shepard. By you.
When you can prove that, I'll be at my hotel.
But I advise you not to push your luck.
Marlowe, you let him walk out?
Yeah, the guy was right, baby. So far we've got no proof of any of it.
Except this bag and whatever is...
Money. Boy, it's filled with bundles of bills.
Big ones. At least a hundred grand.
Holy smoo... Excuse me, will you?
Who are you calling?
Somebody who'll be very interested in this. Just wait and see.
Medcalf speaking.
This is Marlowe. I'm at the Redmond place.
Justin Shepard walked in here, dumped a hundred thousand bucks on the table,
and left again. Not a half minute ago.
At Redmond's?
Yeah.
Why, it's a bribe. We've got him, Phil. We've got him.
Don't touch it. I'll be right there.
Wait a minute. There's more.
Go on.
Louise Redmond came back.
Louise? In the middle of this mess?
Yeah, she's here now.
Must have been rough on her to find Max.
Worse than you think, because that's still not all.
What do you mean?
That you can bet your briefcase on the fact that Max didn't kill himself in the first place.
He was murdered.
Sit tight, Phil. I'll be right there.
Come on in, Aaron.
The money, Marlowe. Where is it?
In the bag there on the table.
Yeah. Excellent. Iron-bound evidence. Best in the world.
We'll have this impounded right away.
And... Oh, Mrs. Redmond, I can't tell you how sorry I am, my dear.
Thank you, Mr. Metcalf.
But I'm grateful to you and to Mr. Marlowe here that Max's death wasn't entirely without purpose, at least.
What about that, Phil? Can we prove he was murdered?
Well, the bullet entered his right temple, but he was left-handed. That's about all we got.
Simple as that. And yet it went by me completely.
I doubt we can stick anybody for it.
Why not?
Well, because his killer may be already...
Already what, Phil?
Hmm? Oh, already dead.
Another killing? Well, what are you talking about, man?
One Earl Gaffney, Shepard's gentle assistant.
What?
I locked him in a tool bin, but somebody found him there and shot him. Keep him quiet.
Justin Shepard himself. Surely. Now, look, if we can't get him for Max, we'll nail him for Gaffney.
Don't count on it.
Listen, we've got that fat lizard right where we want him.
Now, first of all...
First of all, it won't fit, Arn.
Why not?
If Shepard sent Gaffney to get Max, then kill Gaffney.
Why did he bring all this dough here, to bribe a dead man?
Well, yes, you're making sense, Phil.
I knew you'd say it.
Go on.
Okay, try this for size. Max Redmond never intended to testify in court.
He wasn't after a legal settlement because then the money would go past him to Rudolph Kuvian.
This bribe here is all Max was after, but somebody was in it with him.
You're crazy. How dare you say that?
She's right, Marlow. Now you're talking like a fool.
Am I?
Max, no doubt, got into a beef with his partner over the split of the bribe and was shot.
That's a guess, Arn, but this isn't.
Gaffney got it because Max's killer couldn't figure how much Gaffney had heard and seen in here.
He couldn't take a chance, you see?
But whoever killed Gaffney had to wade through the same weeds I did in that vacant lot to get to him.
And most of the weeds up there are foxtail grass.
You know the kind that comes off on your clothes, that sticks in your socks like little darts?
That's right, Arn, take a look. Your Argyles are loaded with the stuff.
I don't have to look. You're a bright boy, Phil.
Thanks.
It went just as you outlandered, up to this point.
I'm sorry you got so much of it right because you can't think of everything.
You might be surprised. Don't reach for your gun, Arn, I'll drop you.
It was a filthy scheme.
Come on, hand it over. Your gun.
Why, Shiloh. Here you are.
Now you drop it, Marlow. Go on.
Well, well.
The heartbroken little wife.
With the very same gun you so generously gave me.
That's what I meant, Marlow. You can't think of everything.
Louise and I are going away tonight together.
And we're taking that money with us.
Stand still, Marlow. I know more about guns than I pretended.
Sure you do. Sure. I had a hunch about you early tonight, baby.
Your homecoming was too patent. You know what?
You didn't bring back so much as an overnight bag.
And what's more, when I took that gun away from you, you practically handed it to me.
You were acting all the way.
I'm not now. I'll kill you, Marlow.
Louise, shoot him. Shoot, shoot, shoot.
I can't. Shoot.
The gun, Arn. It won't fire.
Oh, foolin'.
I took one of the parts out before I gave it back to you, sweetheart.
You couldn't make that go off with a blow.
Arn, help me.
That's right, Arn. Help the lady.
Arn.
Believe me, Sissy, you'd get the same thing right now, but for one good reason.
I'm gonna need you intact in that court tomorrow morning.
By the time the police showed up, Arn Metcalfe, dynamic barrister,
and Louise Redmond, beautiful dreamer, were already coming apart at the seams.
Two hours later, when I finally got away from it,
they were still screaming hysterical insults at each other.
Now, before I went home, I stopped by the sanitarium just long enough to
shake hands with Rudolf Kuvian.
He turned out to be a nice, quiet, thoughtful old guy.
And I assured him of a fair shake that was long overdue.
I guess it made him happy.
It was hard to tell.
Because the look on his face said that maybe the real price
in things other than money had been much too high.
Well, that's the way it is with some characters.
They're human.
The Adventures of Philip Marlowe, bringing you Raymond Chandler's
most famous character, star Gerald Moore,
are produced and directed by Norman MacDonald
and are written for radio by Robert Mitchell and Gene Leavitt.
Featured in tonight's transcribed cast were Howard McNear,
Lou Krugman, Rick Vallin, Parley Bear, Georgia Ellis, and Hugh Thomas.
The special music is composed and conducted by Richard Orrunt.
Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlowe says...
This time there was a fish that talked with a lisp,
a hot blonde with cold cash on her mind,
and a corpse with dirty French cuffs.
And I mixed with them all without ever getting out of my own bed.
This Wednesday night on CBS, Dr. Christian will bring you
the prize-winning script in this year's nationwide contest.
CBS cordially invites you to hear Dr. Christian starring Gene Herschelt.
Every Wednesday on most of these same CBS stations.
This is Roy Rowan speaking.
You can save for your future today the United States Savings Bond way.
Savings bonds are one of the surest, safest investments you can make
because they're backed by Uncle Sam himself.
You are sure of getting back $4 for every $3 you invest
when the bonds mature in just 10 years.
Safe? Because even if the bonds are lost, destroyed, or stolen,
your government will replace them at no charge.
And bonds are simple and convenient to buy.
Ask your employer to set aside an amount of money from your pay,
the amount you decide on.
Automatically, systematically, you'll purchase savings bonds.
If you're self-employed, have your bank purchase a bond a month for you regularly.
Save for your independence.
Buy United States Savings Bonds.
This is CBS where Burns and Allen are heard every Wednesday night
at the Columbia Broadcasting System.