Welcome to Choice Classic Radio, where we bring to you the greatest old-time radio shows.Like us on Facebook, subscribe to us on YouTube, and thank you for donating at choiceclassicradio.com.
Get this and get it straight.Crime is a sucker's road, and those who travel it wind up in the gutter of the prison of the 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 exciting story, The Bedside Manners.
Get your hat and hit the street. Hiya, Mr. Marlowe.Hiya, Tommy.
Hey, Mr. Marlowe, you're changed.Just a minute.
There's a car in the garage.Hey, driver, I can't lie.Holy cats, call an ambulance.Somebody hang on, Mr. Marlowe.Don't try to move.You're gonna be okay.Just take it easy.
That's the way it happened, two weeks ago.When they scraped me up off the pavement, I felt like everything must have been broken.But finally, the doctor boiled it all down to a fractured tibia and assorted bruises.
Headed me 10 days in the hospital, tangled up with enough pulleys, weights, and trapeze bars to rig a circus tent.After which, I managed to get sprung with the peace and quiet of my own apartment.
There, on a special bed in my living room, I spent four days... ...scratching my broken leg through an inch of plastic cast... ...while I worried about the business I was missing.
Until finally, Audine Patterson, a girl with a multi-million dollar estate I'd worked for once... ...insisted on seeing me immediately about a job... ...one she was sure I could handle, even flat on my back.
Phil, it's about my brother, Maynard.
Wait a minute, I gotta get comfortable.I guess your father knew his son pretty well when he left.Yeah, he left all that dough in your hands, Audine.
Yes, only this time, I sincerely believe Maynard's learned his lesson, Phil.He's worried sick.
And frankly, so am I. So am I, if I can straighten this leg out.Well, if you think I can help in this condition, it can't be too serious.Hey, before you sit down, reach me a cigarette, will you?
Yeah, sure.Sure, Phil.Here it is.
Phil, last Saturday night, Maynard went out on a binge.He got home at four o'clock in the morning, awfully intoxicated.
Well, it's not unusual for Maynard, is it?
No, except this time he was frightened, Phil.Scared stiff.
Well, that's just the point.We don't know.He was so drunk, he couldn't remember anything.Didn't know where he'd been or with whom.Phil, it was terrible.
Well, if this was last Saturday, why are you so worried? If anything had happened, surely by now you'd have heard.
Yes, but something did happen, Phil.
This morning I got a phone call from a man who meant business, believe me.I made notes on a memo pad while he talked, so I wouldn't forget any of it.Here.Bag here.Here, read it.
Talmainit 50 Gs.Important.Money by tomorrow or trouble.
Then he hung up on me, Phil.
Fish? Did you or Maynard ever hear of him before?
Well, I certainly didn't.And when I asked Maynard, he didn't know him either.He had a, oh, a cold, heavy voice and spoke with a thick lisp.
You want me to peg this fish for you?
Yes.So I'll know why Maynard owes that much money.
Now, look, baby, I'm bedridden.I'm stuck.I can't even move.I know that.
I know that, Phil.But you have the phone here, a lot of contacts and plenty of diplomacy. If this is something I can get Maynard out of by paying that money, then I'll pay.
OK, baby, I'll try.But look, if it's outside the law... You'll turn Maynard in.
Yes, yes, I'm aware of that.
All right.Where do I start?Where did he start Saturday?
At the Colony Club with a female named Fay Altman.Well, whatever happened must have begun there.That's why I thought of you, Phil.You know the Colony Club.
Well, I know their Scotch is Johnny Walker.Sid Rayfield's the owner, that's all.
That may be enough. Will you want to talk to me, Ned?
Yeah, yeah.Send him over in about an hour, will you?
Yes, he'll be here.And that Altman girl's number is Sunset 0144.Yes.
OK, Odine, I'll get him.At least my dial finger isn't... Hello?What?Fish.
Don't clip her wings, pal.Back out now while you still can.I'm warning you.
Still who? Who was that?You look upset.
Yeah, well, my horse just ran forth.Look, you better run along now, Odine.
And stay out of dark corners, huh?In spite of my sitting duck position, I told myself that a private detective who listens to warnings today is out of business tomorrow.So I put in a call for Sid Rayfield at the Colony Club.
Sid was out, so I left a message for him to get in touch with me.Next, I tried Fay Altman, but the sunset number went unanswered.After that, I started checking for the next best thing to legs I could think of.A guy named Hunger Malloy.
By profession, a roaming bookie.By appearance, a slouch and threadbare houndstooth propped against any convenient lamppost.Hunger, by some peculiar instinct, either knew or could find out about anything, especially slightly illegal.
And because I'd once pried him out of a tight spot, he loved me like a brother.I finally located him in a pool hall on Melrose and told him what I needed to know.
He promised it was as good as done and was off to the colony club and I would hear from him.Well, that left me with nothing to do but scratch my cast again, worry about my gun being in the desk drawer in my office, think about fish and wait.
Things went like that for 45 minutes and then... Come in. Who is it?Who's there?
Why, it's me, Hunger.What's the matter, Philip?You're jumpy.
Yeah, I'm real glad to see you, fella.
Likewise.How are you feeling under the weather?How's it been?
No, it's bothering me a little.
Look, I brought you some flowers.
Oh, Hunger, you shouldn't have.
I know. I tried to get long stems, but them plants in the park ain't doing so good this year.Hey, listen, are you sure you gave me the right dope on the phone, Philip?
Sure, sure, I'm sure.Why?What'd you find out?
Oh, that's just it.Nothing.I went to the colony club and got talking around, but not one thing worth noticing went on there Saturday night.
Well, maybe it started there and moved out, huh?
I tried that.Some of the customers went out to the valley after to shoot a little dice.Another bunch moved on to that big joint on Adams for some poker.That's all.
Gambling, huh?Could be a gambling setup.Were they big games?
No, just the usual.Nothing extra at all.And especially, I couldn't bend down a thing on any 50 G's changing hands.
Are you positive, Hunger?
Well, you don't ask too many questions in that league, Philip, but I'm pretty sure nobody got rich right ahead, you know.I got a hint at least.
Yeah, well, look, what about this guy named Fish?
Black. Some new faces in town, but no high rollers answering to fish.
And a background on Fey Oldman?
Yeah, some.Pick and shovel queen, in a nice way.Been digging nuggets here and there for a year or so.The latest is the gill-edge punk you want to know about, Maynard Patterson.Can I have one of these?
Yeah, go ahead.Feed your face.
Incidentally, they was among those present at the colony Saturday night.Does that mean something to you? Ant, that's about it, Philip.
Okay, Hunger, thanks a million.
I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, but I think you're getting a bum pitch.Visitors.Hey, I got a back way out of here.It won't look so good.
Sure, sure.Bedroom, Hunger.You can go out the window and down the fire escape.Hey, wait a minute.Is that a new shirt?
No, I come into a bit of clink, so I had it washed.I hope you're feeling better, Philip.
I'll see you.Yeah, thanks.Come in.
Bourdain, my sister, said you wanted to see me, Mr. Motto.I'm sorry about your leg.
I'm sorry about it, too.I can't get comfortable.Hey, I hear you really tied one on the other night, huh, kid?
Yeah, but I'm through, Mr. Motto.I swear it.
What about the gambling?Lose your head over that, too?
Yeah, I guess I do.As far as my allowance goes, anyway.
Now, look, I want you to tell me all you remember about Saturday night.
Well, I went to the colony club with Fay. That's my girl, Faye Altman.
By the way, how do you write stuff like Faye on your allowance?
Skip it, skip it, skip it.Go ahead.
Well, I was drinking quite a bit and by one o'clock, I guess I was pretty fuzzy.I lost Faye someplace.Then I went outside for some air.And from there on, it's just a blank.
Now, look, if you didn't pass out cold, you're bound to have some flashes you can remember.I want it all.
Well, I do remember a couple of things, Mr. Martin.I'm more like a dream than anything else. I seem to remember a big, old-fashioned house.It was dark and gloomy with high ceilings and old, ornate, brass chandeliers.
I don't know how I got there or what I was doing.
Well, I don't think so.I've got a man's face in my mind, a flabby guy in a silk shirt.He had big hands, freckles on the backs of them, with kind of a reddish hair on them.I remember him against something green.
I can't seem to remember.And just thinking about him gives me the willies, but I don't know why.I can't figure out why.I talked to Faye.She waited for me until the colony closed, and then she went home.She was pretty mad about it.
You sure that's all you can remember?
Yep.That's everything.Does it make any sense at all?
Not much.Sounds like you could have been mixed up in a poker game at a green top table in an old dump on Adams.Lost your shirt to a fat guy named Fish.
You think that's all there is to it, huh?
Well, not quite all.There's the little matter of $50,000 you owe him.
Look, Mr. Marlowe, if you and Ordean get me out of this mess, I swear I'll straighten up.I'll never get into trouble again, honest.
Sonny boy, what you do later is your sister's headache, strictly.I got trouble enough lining things up so you can get off the hook.Now go on home and stay there till I call you.
OK, OK.Mr. Marlowe, I... I know you don't like me, but, well,
Thanks, anyhow.50,000 bucks.Sunset, oh one, four, four.I have to put Cass on so tight.
Faye, my name is Phil Marlowe.I've been trying to reach you for two hours. Oh, just some conversation about Maynard Patterson.I'm in my apartment number 210, Granada Arms on Franklin.Can you come over?
Why would I want to talk about Maynard to you in the first place?And why don't you come over here in the second?
Well, in the first place, I'm a private detective.In the second, I got a busted leg.How about it?It's important.
Well, I've never dated a private detective with a broken leg before.It sounds entrancing.I'm around the corner on Bronson.I'll be right there.
Good.Goodbye, Faye.Come on in. Well, well, well.Sid Rayfield, in person yet?
Yeah.The boys at the club told me about your urgent call, Peepers, so I came right out.
Well, if I'd known you were coming, I'd have baked a snake, Sid.
I know what you want.Well, then you're clairvoyant, because I'm not sure myself yet.
Try this.You're working for Audine Patterson, like you did once before, because that punk brother of hers is in a bad jam with one Mr. Fish.Well? Yeah, it's quite neat, quite neat.
You happen to know the guy?
Yeah, Marlowe, I happen to know the guy.That's why I'm here.To tip you, because you're a friend of mine, more or less.So I say leave it alone, Marlowe.Get out of it.Stay out.It's none of your business.
You know, you talk like a man with a personal angle.
What?Boy, I ought to spit your lip for that.I come here to do your turn and you... Take it easy.
Mind your bedside manners.Say I'm an invalid.
You'll be worse than that if you don't back out of this.I'm telling you, this guy Fish is too hot to handle, Marlowe, and you better... Who's that?
How should I know? For a sick room, there's joints becoming more like Hollywood and Vine by the minute.I took a long chance coming here.I got to get out without being seen.Well, try the bedroom window and fire escape.Everybody else does.
Don't let them in till I'm gone.You hear it ain't healthy.
Marlowe!Sid!Sid, what is it?Marlowe, I'm hit.Sid!Lousy silencer.Oh, this stinking leg.Nice going, Mr. Fish.I suppose that makes me
Mr. Marlowe, it's Mitzi from the restaurant.Are you all right, Mr. Marlowe?
Yeah, yeah, Mitzi.I'm OK, I'm fine.
Well, I thought you were talking to somebody.
No, no, I was reading.I didn't hear the buzzer.
Oh, yeah.I know what you mean.Sometimes I get real carried away myself.That's fine.Look, I fixed up your dinner.Everything just like you ordered.Here, I'll drag the table.
No, Mitzi, I don't think I'll eat right now.Just put the tray down and beat it, huh?Like a good girl?
Oh, get them in the morning.Will you get out of here?Will you go on?
Oh, gee whiz, okay.Good night, Mr. Marlowe.
Okay, fish, the girl's gone.Oh, come on in.Did you hear me?I said come on in.I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be.
In just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlowe.But first, this Wednesday night, CBS brings you the premiere of a bright new musical show, The ABCs of Music, starring Robert Q. Lewis and Ralph Flanagan's orchestra.
It promises a half hour of top hits and top entertainment every Wednesday on CBS.When also you hear the hilarious Groucho Marx quiz show, You Bet Your Life, and the drama of Dr. Christian.
The ABCs of Music, Groucho Marx, and Dr. Christian come every Wednesday on most of these same CBS stations.Now with our star, Gerald Moore, the second act of Philip Marlowe, and tonight's story, The Bedside Manners.
A man is never ready to die, really.Sometimes saying you are helps. Sometimes, like when you're flat on your back waiting for a killer with a silencer, you might step into view through your bedroom door.
I kept on waiting for 60 seconds, each as long as a fall down an empty well.Once I thought I heard the window close.At least another five minutes went by.Then I actually began to believe that for some reason Fish had gone away.
Well, that made the scoreboard real easy to read. Sid Rayfield, a guy who knew his way around, had been killed.I hadn't been able to do a thing about it.It was time for a call to homicide.But even as I reached for the phone, it went off.Hello.
I said hello.This is your last warning, Marlowe.Oh, you got through our phone fast, Buster.What's on your slippery mind, fish?
You see, Marlowe, you're only still alive because it's convenient to me.
Too bad you didn't feel that way about Sid Rayfield.
Rayfield got what he deserved.And so will you. Like I said, you're only still alive because it's convenient to me.
You happen to be working for the lady who holds the purse strings.Go on.
Maynard Patterson's a lousy poker player.On Saturday night, he dropped $50,000 to me.$50,000 in two markets, Marlowe.One for $2,000, the other for $48,000.I want both paid promptly, you understand?
Not quite.Maynard Patterson doesn't remember what happened Saturday night.So?So, maybe you know all about it and you're making this up as you go along.No, Marlowe, that's not the case.
If you drag yourself to the windowsill in your bedroom, you'll find all the proof you need.
And it's in the poor little rich boy's own handwriting.I left it there so you'd know I'm not kidding about the 48 grand.I'll be in touch.So long, Malo.
You're all a lousy double crook.Come in.
Sure, why not?How could a girl ever resist the welcome in your voice? I'm Faye Altman, private detective.
Ah, what happened to you?Fall out of a transom or trip over a clue?Which?
Neither.It was a wisecrack, honey.I laughed so hard I fell down and broke my leg.
Let's get down to business, huh?
Yeah.For a starter, Faye, what's your connection with Maynard Patterson?How tight is the knot?
I said you and Maynard.Just how chummy are you two?
I thought I heard you right.You know, private detective, I don't like being pushed around.
Faye, there's a dead man in the bedroom.
Dead man?Did you say a dead man?
Sid Rayfield.He was murdered, Faye.
Oh, no.Oh, not Sid.He was a nice guy, Marlo.Sharp, but nice.
Faye, I want you to go in there and look for an envelope on the windowsill.
An envelope?No, I don't think I want to... It's important, Faye.
I can't get out of this bed.Now go on.It may help us tag Sid's killer.
But... All right.I'll get it.
Keep going, Kay. At the windowsill.Do you see it?
Yeah, I've got it.Here.Hey, the window's broken in there.Do you know it?
Yeah, yeah.Now, Faye, my question about you and Maynard somehow or other, did it make Cowdy in love with him?
No.I mean, I like him all right.He's a good time, nice places, nice people, nice little presents.
No, that's right.No yachts.And I like yachts, Private Detective.They beat rowing around in MacArthur Park.I know. I've tried them both.Anything else?
Yeah, turn it around.How does he feel about you?
Overboard, I guess.Look, you said that this might help catch Sid's killer.I like Sid, so I'd like to see that happen.But make this question a good one, because it's your last.
Fair enough.Maynard loves you.You love money.Maynard didn't have any.Now the question.Do you have any plan to change all that?
Just one. He was saving up every cent he could squeeze out of that stingy sister of his for a stake in a big card game.He was going to run it into big dough.Any help, Private Detective?
Yeah, if you call checking other people's stories out a help.
Which translates into what?
Maynard did just that.Only he lost it all Saturday night, lost the stake and 50,000 bucks more.
What?He owes that much dough?
Yeah, yeah.Now tell me, have you heard from Maynard since?
You had your last question, Private Detective, remember? Good night, Marlo.It's been a big, fat pleasure.
I'll bet.Anyhow, fay my best to the fish.
Your very best to the fish?
I don't get it.What fish?
Never mind.Goodbye, baby, and don't slam the... the door.The lady was gone.It was time to call the police.But I was dying hard, and even as I dialed the number, I turned the envelope that had been left on the windowsill over in one hand.
The envelope was the cheap kind you find in any dime store with nothing written on it.And the note itself, which read, I owe the bearer 2,000 bucks payable within 24 hours, was signed Maynard Patterson and dated Saturday.
It was on a square piece of memo paper, and it made me think about a little item which for quite a while had been sitting last row, last seat in the back of my mind.Trying real hard to be star pupil.Now, Marlowe, the fishing may be great.
Oh, Phil, what have you found out?
I'm not sure, but among other things, they may have caught a killer.Now listen, do you still have that note?You know, the one you brought over here, the memo you made after Fish called.Have you got it?
Never mind the question.Just get it, will you?
All right.I'll only be a moment.
You better just hang up, Marlowe.
I wasn't expecting you just yet, Maynard.
No. Ignore this gun, I'm sure.Hang him.
It'll only make a call back, you know.
Yeah.And won't my dear sister be exasperated when she keeps getting a busy signal?No matter how long she dials, only a busy signal.
The pronunciation is sh-thignal, Maynard.Or do I call you fish?And don't look so surprised, you're a stank.People who can't pronounce the letter S avoid it instead of going out of their way to use it as in Perth dring. My mistake, Milo.
Yeah, among a lot of others.You never should have been careless about the kind of paper you wrote the I.O.U.on.Your sister, who you're trying to swindle, came in here earlier with the same juttings on a piece of paper that's got the same top edge.
Because no doubt... Yeah, I know, I know.Because it was ripped off the same telephone pad.And I wouldn't have used that paper since I.O.U.s are customarily written during or immediately after a card game.
And I couldn't have been at home at the time of the game. All right, stop it, Marlowe.There's no need for any more hypotheses.
No, you can fill in all the blanks, can't you?Step by step, a rotten tailor-made scheme to get your sister to save you by paying 50,000 bucks to a gambler named Fish who doesn't exist.I said stop it.
Slimy set up that began with a fake one night stand of bottle and bond amnesia.Moved on to an also fake telephone call to Ordine from a heavy named Fish.A man with a lift.Shut up, Marlowe.And the payoff, the confession call to me also.
Yes, Mr. Marlowe, everything you say is so. But I'm still not beaten and I won't be.You're the only one who knows all this.And even as Fish killed Sid Raphael, Fish is going to kill you.Fish, Marlowe, not me.
Fish, the ruthless gambler who never will be caught, but who my sister will pay nevertheless.Is that clear, Marlowe?
Not quite.Why did you kill Raphael?He had me convinced that Fish actually existed.
Which is the reason he died.He was playing my game, Marlowe, but not for me. Somehow or other, he found out what I was doing.Maybe because he always checked carefully when anybody got too interested in Fay Altman.
And he decided to help things along and cut himself in.You know the answer to that.Now, if you don't mind, turn on the radio, Marlowe.
Why?Silence it doesn't... Turn it on.
Louder.I wouldn't want anything to go wrong now, Marlowe.I've been so lucky. Lucky that I got away from my sister and was free to watch this building, this apartment.Lucky so that I could see who came and who went and act accordingly.
Yeah, I've been lucky, all right.You do grant me that, don't you, Marlowe?
Yeah, sure.You've been lucky.Yeah, you've been real lucky, Patterson, up to now.But you know how it is with luck, kid.One minute you have it, the next minute it runs out.Look, do you mind if I turn this off?It's putting me to sleep.
You are brave, aren't you, Marlowe?
No, no, no.Just lucky.Lucky that someone's standing behind you.Who?The mounted police?No, no, no.Just a guy.A guy named Hunger Malloy.It's a funny kind of a guy, Maynard.He was here early at night, and he ducked out by way of the bedroom, at least.
Huh?Now, don't budge an inch.
I'm not going to turn around and give you the chance to go for that gun, which is probably under your pillow.Oh, no.
Oh, but, Maynard, you should do something.You're about to be hit in the noggin, honest, Maynard, with a vase.
That, Marlow, I'll believe when it happens.
He just wouldn't take your word, would he, Philip?Well, that's the way it goes.
I'll see you... Now, wait a minute, Hunger.Come back here.
I can't, pal.You got a corpse in there.That means cops.Them and me don't mix.
Don't worry about it.Just tell me before I bust.You started for the window 20 minutes ago.What happened?
Well, Philip... What happened, Hunger?I got delayed.After that, stuff was popping. This louse was in there, then a corpse stalactite, and then the louse again at the window, leaving an envelope, et cetera, et cetera.
Yeah, but the delay, Hunger, before company started coming, what was it?Well?
Yeah, try it, try it, it may not hurt at all.
Okay.Uh, they was on your dresser, the jazziest pair of pearl cufflinks, Philip, I seen since we used to deal in Vegas.I, uh, I was attracted.
Ah, Hunger, as a last favor to a guy you've already done a big favor for, take him.The cufflinks.Go ahead, kid.
All right, Philip.As long as you put it so nice, I will.Now, like I was saying, good night, Philip.
Wait a minute, Hunger.The cufflinks.Take them with you now.
Of course.That's exactly what I'm doing, Philip.See you around.
Funny little guy.Funny name, Hunger Malloy.You know, it's a strange thing, but a broken leg makes the old wheels go round.Well, that figures.Makes you think about breaks.And that brings me back to Hunger Malloy again.
The only break he ever got was in his skull. Somebody once said we make our own breaks.I don't know about that.I didn't break my leg.Maybe I did.Did I really look where I was going?And Maynard Patterson.Look at all the breaks he had.Loads of dough.
Still, he didn't know where he was going either.And Sid Rayfield.I wonder if when the slug hit him, he thought, what a lousy break.
The Adventures of Philip Marlowe, bringing you Raymond Chandler's most famous character, star Gerald Moore, are produced and directed by Norman McDonnell, and are written for radio by Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt.
Featured in our cast were Ann Stone, David Ellis, Vivi Janus, Wilms Herbert, Paul Dubov, and Frank Gerstle.The special music is composed and conducted by Richard Orant.
Be sure to be with us again next week when Philip Marlowe says... This time it was strictly out of whack.
From a perfect hostess, who was rude to her guests, passed a big red fence that ran all the way from L.A.to Palm Springs, to a second story man stabbed to death in a basement apartment.
Don't let a rainy day find you unprepared.Start saving for that rainy day right now by buying United States savings bonds.There's nothing quite like these savings bonds.
They're like a cash reserve always available when you need them, and yet they're always earning interest.If you hold on to your savings bonds until they mature, you'll get back $4 for every $3 you invest.Start providing for the future right now.
Buy United States savings bonds regularly. This is Roy Rowan speaking.This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.