Sam Spade - The Biddle Riddle Caper

0:00Meet the Red Bull Dragonberry Emergizer. It's one of the many new drinks out now. Who knew ice cold drinks could be so...fire? Try them all only at McDonald's. McDonald's is putting value back on the menu. Whether you're craving a Big Mac, McNuggets or sausage egg and cheese, McGrittles, make it a meal and save. Your favorite is now your wallet's favorite too. Extra value meals are back. Get a big something extra. With a Big Mac or 10-piece McNuggets, fries and a medium Coke all for just $9. Limited time only, promotion pricing may be lower than meal pricing. Ba-da-ba-ba-ba! I started ornod in 2013 and we make bike apparel. The best part of Shopify for me is our ability to run the business as essentially non-technical people. We're able to admin everything on the back end, front end and sell things online easily.

1:02If Shopify were a bike accessory, I think it would actually be the bicycle. It's the thing that you do the thing on. We run the business on Shopify. Start your free trial on Shopify.com. The National Broadcasting Company presents The Adventures of Tham Spade Detective. The Adventures of Tham Spade Detective. The Adventures of Tham Spade Detective. Tham Spade Detective. I can see. Me, sweetheart. Where have you been? I don't know what to tell them. Tell who. The reporters, everybody. They also use the first part of the detective and they use me a seven-fifth, so to get rich, I'll us late. Oh, it's him. But I think of all the back salary I'll be getting. The first coat. Easy girl, easy, prepare yourself. Tham. Yep. $60,000 is not available to employees of the network or sponsor, which unfortunately I happen to be. No. But cheer up, girl. Think of the taxes we'll save. Now, make everything fast. I'm on my way. Meanwhile, purple me this.

2:02You ready? All right, man. Why does a man who was going to blow his brains out set his mental clock ahead for our? Then it doesn't make sense. Ah, but it does. Marlon Ponder, sweetheart. I'll be down in a trice. 1951 model. With an intellectual type report to challenge serious thinkers everywhere. Switch the fiddle riddle, cafer. For NDC, Williams Fear, radio's outstanding producer, director of history and crime drama, brings you the greatest private detective of them all. In the adventures of Sam's fate. Oh, long. Just like the microphone. Aw, my lady, lady, woman. Yeah, that's true. Mm, If he. And Sam, I just can't get anywhere with it. Never take on a third down, sheriff, given another trial. I don't know you, Sam. I'm mentally through. Well, you know that. I just give up. Sam?

3:02Huh? So there's funny little bumps on your cheek. Oh, yeah, guess. Mar-boss? Hey. You get more. Look out through the wall for me. That's what happens when somebody hits you with a microphone, sweetheart. closer just above the marks under my eye. Clearly and distinctly in reverse, of course, the three letters of a network known far and wide for its hospitality to unemployed private detectives. Do you need? Not here, girl. Poison a pencil. Who knows? A sponsor may be listening. Ready? To Mr. Tracy Abbott, Drake Colton Hotel, copied a dundee at homicide. From Samuel Spade, licensed number 137596. Subject, the Biddle Riddle Caper. Dear Tracy, it had a nice conventional side. This one, a nice conventional phone call, telling me to drop up to room 402 of it, Drake Colton, around three in the afternoon. But when I got there, I found it over the nice conventional number on the door was hung a temporary sign reading Olympic radio productions. Tracy Abbott, editor, director and producer, fitting farewell to the nice conventional part,

4:02I made bold wind of the door. Abbott, five foot eight, a solid Hollywood, was waltzing at what I took to be a musician, composer, or some such. We open coal money like this? Now, killer at large, bangin' with the thing. The... BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM. A great big wonderful core, da boney, check? Check. And then the teaser. Quote? Don't go away while there. Stick right close to that radio set of yours, because the next half hour might put $50,000 in your pocket. BOOM! Yes, $50,000 will be paid by the sponsors of this program for information leading to the arrest and conviction of a killer at large. BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM. Tonight, that's a sustainable core. Tonight, the murder, the Sennilo Sennilo. Tonight, the murder of Carl Stevens. Then, Saturday, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom! Check. Psh, what's that? Sibble Crash.

5:02Do it again. Psh, don't eat it. Check. Check. Big wonderful lush, that's the word lush. With scope and sweetened power. I got it. I'll get as lush as I can with eight-piece scopes. Sweet importance. Got a sound important, check. Check. BOOM. Oh, oh. I'm Sam Spade, Mr. Rabbit. Ah, yes, yes, spade. Glad to see you. Please sit down. And no other hand, you'd better stand up. No time to lose. You have 24 hours to find a man for me. Well, that's pretty short. Notice how, how, you feel. Mr. Spade, killer at large is real. We keep a sensitive finger on the pulse of the people. Well, that's nice. We deal in real facts. Real people, real crimes, and real criminals, check. Just how do you do this? I told you accomplish all this on the radio budget of today. Now, you see before you spade the mechanical marvel, which makes this possible, the tape recorder. You're familiar with the tape recorder? Oh, more or less. Check. Tomorrow night at 9 p.m. TST, with the aid of the tape recorder, we shall reconstruct one of San Francisco's more sensational unsolved crimes, the murder of Carol Stevens. You mean the burlesque day for years ago?

6:03Two years, eight months, and 29 days. You remember what you bought it? Let me see. She turned up dead on the floor of her apartment, didn't she? Check. Victim of the well-known blunt instrument. In this case, a bronze bookend carrying the base relief of Abraham Lincoln. Much ado, much ado, headlines by the art of parade of whippesses, but no arrests, spirit. Fine, I'll what about me? Our show's spade is made up of the simple, honest, the spontaneous statements of the witnesses themselves. We're set on this one except for one man, the most important one in the case, of course. Oh, who's that? Jimmy Biddle, the door man at the Broadway Bolesque. At the time, the Stevens girl was killed. Do her, some say he loved her. Top suspect until he came up with an alibi. Our advance men have combed the city for two weeks, trying to find him, but no luck. So he's born to him. That's what I thought until this morning. You mean you heard from him? I heard from someone who said he was Biddle. He also said he knew who killed Carol Stevens. And he wanted the 50,000. Right. I mean, check. Fair enough. Well, that's what you advertise, isn't it? Not two people who hang up when you get curious.

7:04If it was Biddle, I've got to record his story. I want him here by eight tomorrow night, check. Well, since you keep bringing it up, check. Yes. You can make it after 100 bucks. At homicide, I case the files on the Stevens thing. San Francisco's answer to the black dad, a cheek killing of a cheek day and a cheek of private that used a lot of expensive news paint. He'd taken a last turn under the blue spot around 10.30, left the theater, and hustled straight home because at 11 sharp, according to the neighbor across the hall, someone had tried the Abraham Lincoln bookend on Carol's side. She hit the floor just as the 11-Aklah news came on. Biddle's alibi had to be good, and it was. It came as a matter of fact from the greatest little alibi factory in town. Biddle was drinking old-fashioned with Joseph P. Norgard, the well-known criminal lawyer at the time of the killing. So I tried it over to Norgard's office on Marcus Street, found him tied up, and settled down in the waiting room next to a dimly-died youth and a neon-striped suit who looked like he made a living sticking up crap games.

8:04He was filing his nails. Buddy. Yeah, Buddy? You, uh, you sure you're in the right office, Buddy? Positive, Buddy. I just thought I might save you some trouble, I thought. Sam's stayed in it. Oh, smart kid. I try, huh? I still think you'd be wise to blow. Now, this is quite a turn you, Buddy. Study nice with Richard Woodmark. Sam, I told you I want to save you a bad time. You're a nice guy. Thank you. That's the lot of things you can do around town to make a buck without coming in. I wanted you lifted out of that chair. I'm not going to do it, Mr. Norgard. And that's why I look at you. I'll get with you later. Bye, Buddy. The guy who bustled out of Norgard's office was bloody, floured, and flicked. Pensfriped gave me a last veil for look and cycled out into the hall after him, which was nice, because I was running out of punchline.

9:08Luke, I thought I told you to. Oh. Mr. Norgard. I am? I'm sorry to barge in my name's Spade. I'm a private detective. Of course you are. And a hungry one. Well, we're polite in here, too. Why do you say that? You're the fourth today. Oh, I'm about to fare a mini-aggressed statement entitled, what I know about the Stevens case, or you two can make $50,000, like a copy. You know, I can't remember when I've been treated so nice. What do you know about the Stevens case, Mr. Norgard? It's all an homicide file. On the faithful night, I ran into Jimmy Bittles. I was coming out of a bar in Chinatown. He did the skids. Buddy used to be a useful friend, so I asked him of my apartment for a drink. Oh, thanks. At a minute's share, made him an old-fashioned, loaned him five bucks, and hustled him out. Total lapse time, 45 minutes, from 10.45 to 11.30 p.m. And that is all I have to say at this time. Have you seen Bittles since? Not since the investigation. I don't know where he is now. I don't know who killed Carol Stevens. Period. Paragraph. Do you think Jimmy knows who killed him? Maybe. He says he does. Oh, where did you see him?

10:11He's hungry too. We worked the same breadline. I'm sorry, I said that, Spain. Who are you working for? Olympic radio productions. Killer at large. Yes? They will be coming to the studio tonight. Record a statement for them. Uh-huh. I wonder if I ought to tell them what I really think. What's that? About Bittles. There's no point in talking around it anymore. I think he killed it. Oh, that's a neat trick. If he was drinking your liquor at the time. Oh, I think he did it after he left my place. Two things placed the time of death. The medical examinist report, which could be offered much of three hours. And the neighbor who thinks he heard the girl fall as a news game on. How reliable is that? Well, I usually think of those things during an investigation. But they didn't think hard enough. Yeah. You say you talk too little. He called my client. Why? He had 50,000 good reasons, according to him. You know, funny things happen when the dough gets into it. Bought people don't stay. Bought. Lost people get found. Yeah. Well, that's all you all I know, Spade. If you have no more questions.

11:11I just want more. Who's the little weasel on the pen strike? He means Luke? Yeah. I put him out there to scare off the hungry ones. Nothing to do with you. And the fat character he's sailing has nothing to do with me, though. You really want to know? Love to. He's a pastry cook. I'm representing his wife in a divorce section. Things he's gazing over. Press your cooker, eh? Shaving norguard, pen strike, and a plebe pastry cook and a look-up later section of my hat, and I took off her fiddle's last-known address of boarding house on Pacific Avenue. There I held hands with a land lady long enough to learn that, hey, she hadn't seen fiddle since a few weeks after the murder, but be, when last heard of, fiddle had gone on from the burlest saying to something even more extremely female. According to the land lady, name Rosalie. Understand he's broken on the line at the Pacific Ballroom. Red hair, blue eyes, and boom, boom. Get me? Ha, ha, ha, ha.

12:12I got you. Pacific Ballroom, eh? Would you do that last again? Boom, boom. Yeah, just checking. Mike Smith's land lady. Hello? Hi. Hello, the lucky girl. You look like your name on the verosely. Oh, you're psychic. You got to take it. Hey, let me know when they're used up, eh? Don't worry. Hey. You know, you're pretty good dancing. I, for Murray, class of 1906. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Oh, me, eh, I didn't come here to dance. Oh. I'm looking for Jimmy Bittl, you know? Yeah, I know. You were cop. Not exactly. Oh, that's a different cop and no cop. You'll find him on a day's day. Where? In the bay, maybe. In the mord. He knows it. That's a funny pride. He knows it, and he can't do anything about it.

13:12It's got him. Rosalie, baby, look, I know. That's enough about Jimmy. That's dancing. That's what you're paying for, isn't it? Well, come on. Where is he? He's wasting your time, I... I won't sell him out. I'm sure with him, but I won't sell him out. Ah, here, you should take it. I saw it over to the soft drink, Bumpin' and Mola, a problem over a coat from Inter to two. There are ways of dealing with dames like Rosalie. Some of them are a little cruel, as this one is going to have to be. But Pym was a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not a little cruel. I'm not an cruel. I'm not a little cruel. Now this one is going to have to be. The time with her, the essence. I kept out a sight for twenty minutes or so, watching her dancing in the arms of her moon-ผomer, and cidal into her phone booth. The Pacific Ballroom конversations does not hurt while the girls are working. When I sent it with the police, the plumber turned over to a new candidate Rosalie. Came to the phone. I was dancing with her a little while ago. What is it? I found her microphone delivered by her. What's the matter, tirit? That's right. But... That's bad.

14:12I'm afraid so. I'm afraid so he wants to see it. Oh, OK. I'll be right over. She didn't stop for a wrap just part of zigzag photos with a mob of the main door and climbed into a cab of the curve. The driver must have been an old fan of hers, because they were almost out of sight by the time my cab got rolling. And that's the way it was across Market Street and all the way out there to the Marina. Her cab was pulled up in front of an apartment on Jefferson Street, and she just got now when we slid in behind her. Hi, are you want to go up together? But you said you. I'm sorry, honey. I know with a dirty trick, but now that's no way to be. You shut up. The gold card holder by the doorbell, listed the tenant as WR Smith. Mr. Smith was evidently not home. A lady manager in the apartment next to his was an after the usual license showing and more than the usual sweet thought she came up with a key. Middle wasn't wealthy, but he wasn't hungry either.

15:14Place had the well-fixed man about Tom look. Right down to the last crystal martini glass in the portable bar in the living room. Next, with a Mahogany desk, in which were sundry checkbooks and deposit slips indicating Middle had found a phosphorus widow or had been doing rather well at Canasta. A clock chained for in the next room, sent it with after 10. I wondered why I wanted to take a look. Maybe I was psyching, like the girl said. There was a tape recorder against one wall, the same kind I'd seen in your office, Tracy. With a microphone and a roll of tape, I have used up. Holding the microphone with one hand was Jimmy Diddell and the other hand, a 38. He wasn't heard as I'd told her. He was dead. You are listening to the weekly adventure of Radio's most famous detective, Sam Fade. This Sunday, there's another outstanding production

16:21by Theoretic Guild on the Air. It's a one hour adaptation of the thrilling tale of intrigue and post-war Vienna, the third man. Joseph Cotton and senior Hasselstarr in this Theoretic Guild on the Air broadcast. And Sunday over most of these NBC stations also means the big show. An hour and a half of the finest in comedy, music and drama. Tula will be your hostess and just listen to a few of the stars. Fred Allen, Marlene Dietrich, Danny Thomas, and Fran Warren. There'll be many more, too, so tune in this Sunday and every Sunday for the big show. And now back to the Biddle Riddle Caper, tonight's adventure with Sam Fade. In accordance with chapter five of the Private Detective's Manual and title, How to Keep Your License, I called homicide and gave him the facts and figures then went back to the study. Jimmy Biddle was surrounded by pops like part one of the Kodafry and Pleasant. I carefully reached over his shoulder and pressed the button on the tape recorder.

17:22My name's Jimmy Biddle. The DA will remember me. We saw a lot of each other during the week after Carol Stevens hit the deck in a apartment three years ago. I just about this time and night. I fooled him then. I could probably go on fooling him, but I'm tired of it. I'm tired of living this way. So here it is. I knew Carol Stevens well. I was crazy about it. And I was jealous too. That's why I killed her. I thought I could go on and on playing hide and go seek for the rest of my life. But sooner or later this kind of thing gets too heavy to pack around. You gotta get rid of it. One way or another. Period. End of report. I roused to the land lady again and we went over the room together. A helpful tight land lady and she contributed a thousand odd bits of gossip about Jimmy Biddle, only one of which struck me as interesting. She'd come in this morning. She said the clean is apartment and among other things had wound and set the eight day clock on the metal. The same clock, which was now exactly four hours fast.

18:24Looking closer at the paper quarter, I saw a small label pasted above one of the knobs reading morgas and a reed recording technicians. Next scene, the manufacturing section of Sensen Street, a five-story building, all dark up this hour, except for light in the office on the second floor back, which happily turned out to be the one. Burgess. Reed. Anybody. Hello. What, what do you want? Well, a pastry cook. I'm sorry, we're closed. You see, office hours nine to five. No, wait a minute, just a minute, pastry cook. I'm not a pastry cook, sir. My name is Muggus. I am one of the proprietors here. Just a moment, sir. Sorry. Sorry, it was getting cold out of the hall. That was a Umerdice, huh? I am. And I don't care who you are. I know all about it, sir. I know it wasn't a practical joke. What wasn't a practical joke? That tape. You can march right back to the man you're working for until he can't buy me off. Is that clear? Not very. There's no use denying it.

19:24I saw you in his office this afternoon when he... When he threatened me. Oh, what did you do? Get down, I'll ask. What is it all about? I called out on a fire estate and planned to see my buddy in the pinstripe suit hit the bottom. The alley praised he was blind at one end, so Luke took off for the street. I caught him in one leg. He stumbled fell, smacked his head against the brick wall of the alley and took the cuff. I was frisking and went to a plow-cop who heard the shots move up. I convinced him I wasn't rolling a drunken left and the run back upstairs. Marcus? Marcus? Here you are. I'm going to get you to a hospital. Why, you zamespade. I don't work for no guard. Right now I'm trying to hang a murder rat on him. Told me it was a practical joke. A gag. What? Tape. Jimmy Bigel. Tape. Jenny, you ran to the machine from you and made the tape on self-right?

20:24Yes. Tape. He? No guard. What about no guard? To beat me into it. Beat me into it. Beat me. Who wouldn't give it to him? Give what? I take. You hold on. I take. I take. He tried the point of the death that he passed out and so did this already bubbling stew. He had a crucial typewriter. While waiting for the ambulance, I cased it and found nothing. And stuck up his a paper into it and began to type. Four quick brown foxes that jumped over four lazy dogs when the sound changed. I looked closer and then tackled a messy job. I always lead to my secretary. I hate to play with typewriter ribbons, but this wasn't a typewriter ribbons. Then said ribbons had come to an end and I was pecking away at a piece of sound tape. Come on, Rosalie.

21:24Come on, my feet are even more silent than they were an hour ago. Okay, you first. All right now. I'm sorry, you say it. I thought you were lying when you said Jimmy was pregnant. Well, let's not go into that now. He was blackmailing no guard, right? I don't even know who no guard is. You know Jimmy was shaking someone down, didn't you? I never knew where he got his money. I just know it was dirty money. He'd laugh and say it was with him high, but not for long. He never mentioned the no guard? No, I just thought he was going to make $50,000 in a radio program. Did he say how? Singing. I thought he was kidding when he showed up with a tape recorder. But he wasn't kidding. Then what? You wanted to be alone, he said he was going to make an audition and so that he was sponsored. That's where he made the mistake. He sent it to the wrong sponsor. They figured he hit no guard for the biggest touch of all. Thought hearing it might make him dig deeper. So we recorded his statement. Send it to no guard for a sample, but there was something he didn't think of. What do you mean? He should have studied up on his tape recorders, baby. With a pair of scissors and a good technician, Jimmy's eye witness account turned into a first class confession.

22:30The final phase of the little little was as you were recalled, Tracy and I could on one of the sound stages of a nation's leading network. Whereas you will also recall you were visually transcribing the testimony of various witnesses on the cattle's Stevens tape. I got them, they all never know. But very well, this big and legal looking is ever. Perjuring himself once more into one of your microphones. I walked out of the twin dragon on Grand Avenue. As I remember it now, middle was across the street. He apparently recognized me though. Oh, excuse me. Will you follow the spot? Hey, you idiot. You're ruined. I'm sorry, Tracy. Oh, we'll have to start it over again, Mr. Norther. Would you mind if I record a few remarks? Spade, please understand my position. Dittles' confession has changed everything. I know. The killer is not at long. Yeah, yeah. 24 hours we spent recording the show. Now it'll all have to be done over again. These people at this house, listen, Tracy. All right, Spade, what is it? I'm only trying to help. Now where is Bittles' confession? On the machine there, we're going to double it onto the main tape. Good, now be a good lad and show me where your sight is stopping, huh? Right there.

23:30Okay. What is this, Spade? This is going to interest you, Mr. Norgard. Now, let us turn to the tape, keeping our eyes on the spool as it slowly feeds Jimmy Bittles' last state. My name's Jimmy Bittles. The DA will remember me. We saw a lot of each other during the week after Carol's Stevens hit the deck in a repartment three years ago. I had just about this time of night. I fooled him then. I could probably go on fooling him, but I'm tired of it. I'm tired of living this way. So here it is. I knew Carol's Stevens well. I was crazy about it, and I was jealous too. That's why I... There's a riddle for you, Norgard. He said the girl died, quoted just about this time of night, unquote, of the clock struck three times. We know she died at 11. What happened to the other day, Chine? This is no time for me. The patient with me, Tracy. What about it, Norgard? How do I know that the man was crazy, maybe? No, no, no, no. He wasn't crazy. Stupid, but not crazy. So, I'll only take this spool of tape off and put this one. What's that? This is the part that was cut out.

24:31Got it from the guy who did the splicing job for you, thinking it was a practical joke or something. And, you know what you're saying? Yeah, but Bittles says it better. The last thing we heard was, I was crazy about it, and I was jealous too. That's why I killed her. Only he didn't say kill her. Just, that's why I... Well, standing outside in the hallway of a apartment tonight, she died. I'd seen her either a theater with a guy I recognized, and I followed them home to her place. Her day argument, everything, but I had no idea, he'd kill her until I heard her hit the floor. Door busted open and then and he came out looking like a crazy man. I didn't even see me. He just ran down the back stairs as fast as he could go up. And I went in and saw her lying on the floor dead. I could have killed him, then. But I thought of something better. He's good pay. The cash comes right on time. But I'm tired of living this way. So there's the story. The man who killed Carol Stephen... That's what you like! That's what you like!

25:35This is as far as Bittles got, then, in no guard, it grabbed a fan mic and slammed it into the recording machine. And the robot, which followed, he also slammed it into my face, which is why I carried the imprint of the nation's number one network just below my right eye. So, that's about the crotch, Tracy. Norguard and Pinstryte. Now, I cheek by Jowl and the jail hospital trying to think of an honest lawyer, old defendant. While you, Tracy, with a third round of interviews before you, are considering causing out Carol Stephen and doing the shooting of Dan McGruve. Period. End of report. Damn! Go unfortunate! Unfortunate? You have a definite thing about the class. It was four hours down. Why, sweetheart, that's self-explanatory. The clock said four, you see. But it was twelve. It lived in dead an hour, which makes it eleven. Carry one one, for trephing four from at least seven. Seven. And assuming it'd been there an hour before that, make six. Hmm. Damn, what brings us, little logic? Yes, I tell it a queen. Epi. On this program, we do not plug rival products. Now, go and pipe that up while I figure this out. Scoop, scoop. Yes. Three chimes mean good times on NBC.

26:42There's mystery and music every Saturday on NBC. For mystery tomorrow, Herbert Marshall stars as the man called X. The man called X is a man without a name who travels the world over combating the forces of international espionage and intrigue. For music tomorrow, your hit parade brings you the top tunes in the land, played by Raymond Scott's orchestra, and with vocals by Snuffy Lanson and Eileen Wilson. Here it is, sir. Thank you, dear one. I see by the pearls in your brow that you have not as yet solved the matter of the missing chimes. Oh, why Norguides set the clock ahead when he shot to the middle? How to approach this. You realize Norguide cut a hunk out of the tape, removing Biddle's eye witness account, setting him up as a suicide, right? The cat! Don't make me change my grip there. Low Biddle, by his own statement, made the recording at the time of the murder of Carol Stevens, the widow of 11 o'clock. Now, in cutting out the crucial word, Norguide also had to cut out a chime.

27:46This he realized would be noticed. So he set the clock ahead to make the number of chimes jied. Ha! Chimes jied. Chimes jied. Nice ring. Sam, well, I'll be all right with you if I just say I understand when I really go. Sure, sweetheart. I'll just type an answer to the phone and you, you and your feet and your head. And together we'll end up... I know, with... goodnight, Sam. Good night, sweetheart. The Adventures of Sam Spade The Adventures of Sam Spade are produced, edited and directed by William Spear. Sam Spade was played by Stephen Dunn. Laryne Toddle is Effie. Scripts for tonight's Adventure by Harold Swanton. Musical Scarring by Lut Blusken, conducted by Robert Armbruster. Join us again next week, same time, for another adventure with Sam Spade.

28:59Enjoy the magnificent Montague and Duffy Sabyrin on NBC.