Latest / Great Detectives of Old Time Radio Volume 2|Mystery Audio Dramas / Philip Marlowe: The Panama Hat (EP1289)

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Philip Marlowe: The Panama Hat (EP1289) · Great Detectives of Old Time Radio Volume 2|Mystery Audio Dramas

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Welcome to the Great Detectives of Old Time Radio from Boise, Idaho. This
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is your host, Adam Graham. If you have a comment, send it
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Radio Detectives. Well, before we do get started, I do want to
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Well, it's time now for today's episode of the Adventures of Philip Marlow.
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This one is called the Panama Hat. Sounded good, real good. A
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weekend at Melibu, expenses paid with a cash bonus thrown in. That was
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before I knew about the Henchman, the Redhead, and the corpse. These
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three and a white kind of my hat ruined it all for me. From
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the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of crime fiction, comes his most
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famous character as CBS presents the Adventures of Philip marlow and Now, with Gerald
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Moore starred as Philip Marlowe, we bring you tonight's unusual story, the Panama
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Hat. I was sitting in my office bombing the ashtray on my desk with
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paper clips, wondering what kind of a job a private detective gets. When
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clients stopped calling completely, I was sea sawing between the picture of me is
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a well starched tuckster in the more comfortable portrait of marlow author in English tweets
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man of distinction, and the telephone brought me to a rude awakening Malo speaking.
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My name is Isabelle Gordon. Mister Marlowe, I must see you at
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once. My husband Bruce is in terrible danger. Could you possibly meet me
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in an hour at the Pelican Inn. It's a small roadside place on the
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way to Malibu. I'll explain everything then Pelican in one hour, missus Gordon.
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The Pelican in was strictly a lick a license with chairs and a board
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piano player in one corner, grinding away. The place was empty, and
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I was about to order a drink when the front door opened and a woman
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entered. She was tall, and thin and right out of Happer's bazaar.
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From double app ankle, straped shoes to close cropped hair. One look at
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her fear crowded eyes and I knew it was Isabelle Gordon. I got up
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and introduced myself. Then we went to a table and she started to talk.
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For two weeks now, mister Marlow, my husband Bruce has been receiving
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unsigned threatening letters. I'm almost sick with worry. I don't know what to
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do. Wait a minute, Missus Gordon. The first thing to do is
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to get hold of yourself and tell me the whole thing, right from the
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beginning. Yes, all right, Well, first of all, Bruce and
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I have only been married a little more than a year. We're living with
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my uncle every fair Child, on an estate out beyond Malibu. I see,
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what does your husband do for a living, missus? Right, he's
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a photographer. We'll be a commercial. Well, at present, it's neither.
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You see, Bruce has been terribly unsettled since the war lost sort of
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a Then recently he got interested in photography and it's been a great help to
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him, but he doesn't exactly work at it. Well, he's converted one
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of the rooms in the guest cottage into a studio, and he spends almost
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all his time there experimenting with portrait work. But he doesn't actually have a
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job. If that's what you mean, how does that appeal to you,
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Uncle Avery. I'll be honest with you, mister Marlowe. My uncle thinks
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the sun rises and sets on me, but with Bruce it's total eclipses Edie.
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I'm afraid. So all his life Uncle Avery has been concerned only with
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dollars and cents. He simply doesn't understand or sympathize with an artist viewpoint.
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Now what about these unsigned letters? Well, Bruce has been getting them for
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the past two weeks. They are always made up of words cut from newspapers
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and pasted on ordinary paper. That's a cheap stunt. What do they say?
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Each one threatens my husband's life, Yet both he and Uncle Avery consider
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them nothing more than the work of some harmless craig, in spite of the
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fact that for the last several days I've seen a strange man lurking around our
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place every night? Can you describe them? No? No, except reads
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about your height and build. Is that all? Yes? No? I
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wait a minute, there is something else. Each time I saw mister Marlow,
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he was wearing a white panama. There's not much to go on.
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Tell me, why haven't you called the police? Uncle Aby wouldn't hear of
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it. He hates publicity, dreads it. That's why I suggested contacting you
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a private detective. It's sort of a bodyguard for Bruce. Huh. Yes,
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However, mister Bruce is somewhat temperamental, and I know he'd rebel at
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the thought of being watched over. So I'd rather posed as a house guest,
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an old colleague chum of mine. Perhaps My fee is twenty five a
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day plus expenses, Missus Gordon Honey. Price is all right, mister Marlow.
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Let's see it's a little after seven. Now, can you be at
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our place at Malibu at nine? I think so? That is a fellow
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alumnus, Isabelle. One last question? Where'd you go to college? Southern
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California? Why? But I was afraid you might say Vesser after Isabella left
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her, and remember that I was already on my expense account. So I
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had a tasteless cold hot blue plate special and a burden cup of coffee,
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and I stepped out of the Pelican Inn and headed across the paved parking lot
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to my car. Was already dark, and I was admiring the full moon
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and the beautiful wash it made over the ocean when it happened. Hey,
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look you are right mister. Yeah, yeah, I think so, thanks
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to your sounding off that not was aiming right for you. Yeah yeah,
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it looks that way. Did you happen to get his number? No?
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What about his face? Can you describe him? No? Matter of fact,
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I only noticed one thing. What was that the hattie was wearing.
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It was a white panama. I tried to be broad minded, but there
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was no other way to look at it. The gentleman in the white panama
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had definitely meant business. I returned to my apartment in Hollywood, where I
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shaved, chowered, and packed, and I headed for Malibu. At a
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quarter to nine. I was inside the grounds of the fair Child State another
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mile and I was at the front door. When I entered, Isabelle greeted
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me like I was a keg of brandy around the Saint Bernard's neck. Then
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we waded through an inch thick coppet to the library where Uncle Avery, fat,
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bald and looking like he'd just bitten into an underwrip. Per Simon was
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waiting. I wasn't asked to sit down, and I was not for a
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cigar. Avery fair Child was not one to waste time. I'm a very
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rich man, mister Mallow, as such, on the target for all kinds
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of fortune hunters, confidence men, and cranks. In my lifetime, I've
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been threatened and pestured by a scar at crackpots, each one slightly more psychopathic
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than the last. It never bothered me and it never will. However,
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in this case the approach is a bit different, meaning you think somebody's trying
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to get you through your nephew. Uh, never refer to him as my
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nephew, my niece's husband, if you please, and don't forget it,
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Uncle Avery, isabel My feelings about your husband are no secret. You're being
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unfair, Uncle Avery, just because Bruce is an artist and an artist is
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he? Why Isabelle? That man's no more artist? And I am a
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horse shot? Hello Bruce, Hello darling, you were saying something, Uncle
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Avery. Bruce, I want you to meet Philip Marlowe. We were great
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friends at school, and when I heard he was in town for a while,
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I insisted that he spend a weekend with us. How do you doing,
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mister Gordon. It's a pleasure to have you with us. Mister Milo,
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You're very welcome. I do the welcoming around here, Bruce. Mister
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Marlow's had a long trip and I'm certain he'd like to turn in early.
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Bruce, Darling, he's going to stay in the guest cottage of the room
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next to your studio. Will you show him there please, I'll be glad
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to By the way, Isabella, I'm going to work late, so I'll
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say good night to you now. Good night, DearS nice. Please please
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be careful, yes, Bruce, by all means, be careful. Remember
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the true artist belongs to posterity or something. The guest cottage was only a
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landscape top skip and a jump from the museum that Uncle Avery called home.
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And as Bruce and I I told along a flagstone path, I'd feigned a
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deep interest in photography. That was all my hosts needed. He struck at
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the bait like a shock for the malnutrition. Well, mister Milo, it
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didn't even occur to me that photography might be one of your hobbies. Isabelle
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never said a word. Good for Isabelle. I'm strictly a dabbler. And
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tell me, mister Gordon, how long have you been at this portrait work?
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For about six months? You see. I divide my time between my
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studio here and a school I attend in Hollywood. That way I capture both
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the theory and practical experience at the same time. Well, here we are.
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Would you like to see the studio? Yes? I would, Yeah,
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I'll be get the lights. Wow, this is all right, eh
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and Lodger two cameras dark room. Are these your pictures? Yes? What
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do you think of them? I don't know exactly. They're certainly different.
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They are unusual out there, you see, Milo, Each picture is actually
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made up of two separate studies, which are super I call it interpretive photography.
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Uh now, this one a splash of light and the bent pipe cleaner,
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the sun and the plant shoot. It's called metamorphosis. Oh what about
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that one? They're in the corner, the girl's face and clouds. Mister
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Malo, you'll excuse me, but that picture is ready for display. I'm
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sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I thought it was just another interpretive
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photograph that it isn't finished yet. Now, mister Molow, I'm afraid I've
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forgotten what my wife said about your long trip. Shall I show you to
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your room? Yes, please do, mister Gordon. My room, on
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the other side of the guest cottage was wider than Hollywood Boulevard. After Bruce
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apologized for his display of temperament and bid me a polite good night, I
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climbed into the silk pajamas that were laid out for me, stretched out on
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the bed, and tried to figure who belonged to the white panama hat.
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About an hour passed and I wasn't getting any sensible answers, so I switched
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out the light, put my gun on the table next to me, and
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snuggled into what felt like a mile and a half of mattress. I was
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almost asleep, and the clatter of a shovel falling on the walk outside brought
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me straight up in bed. I grabbed my gun and made for the door.
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For a second, I threw it open. I knew that I'd made
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a mistake. Whoever kicked over that shovel, it hurt me and met me
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with a large fist that came straight at my face. Hell As I came
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back into the world, I was embarrassed to find myself alone and flat on
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my back. When I started to get up, I felt like the La
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Dun was water boy and all and run over my face. My gun was
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a few feet away, and when I went to pick it up, I
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stopped short. There was a souvenir and the man with a great big fist
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a gold cigarette lighter was engraved to skip her on his birthday. Putting it
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in my pocket, I picked up my gun and made for Bruce's studio.
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He wasn't there. I threw on some clothes and went back to the house
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and found Isabelle in the living room. I was about to give her a
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biased account of the shortest fight on record when I noticed Uncle Avery quietly entering
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the house from a side door that led to the garden. What's the matter,
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feel, Bruce isn't in the studio anymore? What now, Isabelle?
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There's no reason for alarm. Bruce often goes off into the night like this,
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How to do such for beauty or some such rat? And what was
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it you were after just now? Outside, mister fairchild, I was looking
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for my Knie Smilow. Isabelle, your cousin John telephoned to say he wouldn't
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be down this weekend. Oh, I didn't know there were to be other
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guests. Oh, just my cousin, John Martin Phield not really a guest.
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He comes down off too often to suit me, Uncle Avery. Please
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you know that I'm fond of him, Yes, but I don't know why.
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He's a chronic gambler and of no use to anyway, living at the
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Wiltshire Gardens when you can't afford it driving expansive car. You're too hard on
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him? Yes, do you know him? No? No, No,
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I don't. Well you're not missing anything, believe me. Oh, I
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do believe you, mister fairchild. I believe you're every word. What good
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night? Or I left the house and headed straight to my car. With
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the Wiltshire Gardens in Hollywood and mine. It was just a chance that John
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Skipper Martin might own a white Panama hat. I got to the prodigal cousin's
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bungalow was dark inside, so I pressed one hand close to my gun and
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the other against the door, though, but there was no answer. A
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side window was open, and I started toward it when a nasty voice greeted
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me from the shadow of a palm tree. Good evening. Lovely night,
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isn't it. I hadn't noticed. I've been busy. I know we've been
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waiting for you for a long time. Wee uh huh Me and my nice
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shiny revolver thirty eight. I see all. You make a handsome couple,
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and I hope you're both very happy together. Now, what do you want?
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I don't want anything. I'm here to give you something, advice,
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lust brother. I've already told you I'm busy. So if this is a
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heist, let's get it over with fast. You know, I think you're
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confused. I'm holding the gun, mister Martin Martin John Skipper Mutton surprised that
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I know your name? Why? Yes, yes I am. I don't
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recall having had the pleasure you haven't. People never forget me, mister Martin.
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My tag is Brock. Does that mean anything? No? What do
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you do? Sing? Dance? Tell jokes? Yeah, that's it,
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the last one I tell you. I can't wait. You won't have to
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miss the Martin. I'm gonna tell you one right now. Goes like this.
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Once upon a time, a young punk borrowed ten thousand dollars from a
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generous gambler and has promised to pay the money back within a week, but
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the young Punk never came across, so the gambler told a nice fellow named
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Brock to call on the young Punk and tell him that he had forty eight
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hours in which to get the money together, and that if he didn't,
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he'd never see the forty ninth hour. What's the matter, mister Martin?
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Don't you like jokes? Rock Gryne shoved his thirty eight into his shoulder holster
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and walked away. Soon as he rounded the corner, I went to the
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open window and climbed in. I rummaged through two closets, looking for a
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white panama, you know what. I was about to search a third when
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I heard something that brought me to a dead stop. It was a key
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in the front door lock. He closed my right hand over the gun in
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my pocket, moved flush against the sidewall, and waited. At the moment
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the door swung open me the telephone rang, and the hulk of a man
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that entered went straight for it. He was wearing a gray Fedora. Hello,
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oh, hello, Isabelle, what Bruce? All right? Are you
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sure? But that's impossibly? I mean things like that just to excuse me?
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Is all? I think I have a visitor. I'll call you back,
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raach, mister Martin, who are you? Her name is Brock.
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You owe a client of mine ten thousand dollars. He wants his money in
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forty eight hours. I'll get it, I swear I will. I'll have
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it right here, on time, all of it. How are you going
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to do that, mister Martin? I have got a way. Someone's going
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to give it to me tonight. Why that's because it's a healthy thing to
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do. That's why. That's all you wanted to know, isn't it.
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That's all? Good night, mister Martin. Hello, missus Marlowe is I'm
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calling from a drugstore in Hollywood. His Bruce returned yet? No, and
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he won't he'd been kidnapped. What's that? Whoever? Did it? Want?
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Fifty thousand dollars before morning or we'll never see Bruce alive again. As
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I walked my car ups at the Wiltshire Gardens, I felt like my brain
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had spent the night in a cement mixer. I was about to head back
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from Malibu when I suddenly saw a skiper Martin dash out of his bungalow and
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pile into a long, glossy convertible. I followed him out to the Pacific
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Palisades, where he made a call at a little house which sat on a
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bluff overlooking the sea. Once he was inside, I moved up quietly and
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saw that the name on the mailbox was Miss Carlo Winters. I crawled up
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to a lace curtain window where I could see what was going on. One
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look at Miss Winters made the damage. I was doing it to my tweets
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worthwhile. She was strictly dragon lady, with flaming red hair and a waist
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you could span with two hands if you were lucky enough to get that close,
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and the rest of the measurements fit just perfect. Why you snialing car?
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You wouldn't dare open your mouth about us. Listen, Carlo, I've
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got myself Skipper Martins to look after first lass and always remember that. Why
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should I? You've always been cheap talking no more? Look at you know
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you're in trouble. So what do you do? You holler blackmails? Go
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on, get out of here, got here before I kill you. When
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Skipper slammed the front door, stopped to his car and wrought off, I
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couldn't figure any reason, legitimate reason, that is, for calling on Carlo
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Winters. So I returned to the Fairchild place. Isabelle was somewhere between hysteria
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and collapse over the fact that she and Bruce had less than two thousand dollars
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in their own name. Uncle Ably, of course, was more than reluctant
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to pay the ransom demanded for the return of a Manny rather not have returned,
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But his niece went out, all right, Isabella, I'll give you
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the money, but understand I'm doing this for you no more. Uncle Abey,
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I understand, but can you get that much cash at this or the
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banks? Who said anything about banks? You know I don't like him.
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Money will be in your hands in thirty minutes. In the meantime, tell
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mister malow hear what arrangements you've made with your husband's of doctors. One minute,
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mister Fairchild, what about the police. The police have already been notified,
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mister Marlowe have agreed not to interfere until tomorrow morning. By that time,
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I suppose we'll have Bruce return to us. To us Uncle Avery as
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a mere slipper. The tongue is a bill. I'm only paying for his
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return. You take over from there. I don't want him. About half
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hour later, Avery Fairchild handled me a bundle of bills which added up to
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fifty thousand dollars cash. The bill seems slightly dirty. The old geezer must
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have had them buried someplace for a moment. I couldn't help thinking boy to
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get at this place with a shovel sometime. But then I got back to
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the more pressing matters at hand. I wrapped up in a shoe box and
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I drove north along the Pacific Coast Highway. I covered the sixty miles to
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the rendezvous, which was a junk yard near Venture, in about as many
20:07
minutes, and according to instructions, I slowed down for ten miles an hour.
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I blinked my lights twice, tossed out the shoe box. I was
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just about to resume my speed when that head light's been approaching car hell on
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a man as he dotted back into the junkyard, and I saw what I'd
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been expecting all the time, a white panama hat. But I was still
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playing by the rules, so there was only one thing I could do about
20:37
it. I slammed my foot down on the accelerator and kept it there until
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I reached the nearest telephone, where I telephone Skipper Martin at the Wiltshire Gardens.
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It was just possibility owned two hats, But that little balloon exploded in
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a hurry. Hello, mister Martin. Yes, this is Brock remember me.
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Oh yes, yes, of course I've been hoping you'd cold. I
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mean you got the money right now? Well, well no, not not
21:06
to spend it, but I will happen in a couple of hours. You're
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sure, mister Martin, I'm positive, Brock. No, only one thing
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figured a man in the Panama had worked for Skipper Martin. It had to
21:23
be an hour later. I pulled in at the fair Child of State.
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In the moment I put my double a over the threshold, I knew that
21:30
the kidnapper too had kept his part of the bargain. Bruce Gordon was back,
21:33
safe and sound. It happened shortly after you retired, mister Marlow.
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I was working in my studio when a man wearing a white Panama hat.
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Yeah, but how did you know that? Mister Marlow very popular this season,
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mister Gordon Darling. Mister Marlow was a private detective but I'll tell you
21:49
all about that later. Go on with your story. This man was wearing
21:53
a handkerchief over his face, and he forced me to go along with him
21:56
at gunpoint. Took me to a car park in the service will and told
22:00
me to turn around, and I was hit from behind and went out cold.
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Oh, darling, how terrible. It wasn't pleasant to him. When
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I came to, I was bound hand and foot, blindfolded and gagged.
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I had no idea where I was. But didn't you see anybody before you
22:14
were released? No, Uncle Avery. Before they let me go, they
22:18
hit me again when I came to. That time, I was lying on
22:21
the road out near Ventura, untied. That's about it. I suppose you've
22:25
told the story to the police already. Huh. No, he hasn't,
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Misster Marlowe, and what's more, he isn't going to I'm sorry, but
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I was forced to light too earlier this evening. The policeman reporters, and
22:34
they mean publicity, and I hate publicity. I'm sure you see my point.
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I wouldn't make book on that. Mister Fairchild's secrets like this only encourage
22:42
kidnappers. Well, since we no longer see I do I, mister Marlowe,
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I'd suggest that we consider your services at an end. I'll have my
22:49
check at your office in the morning. Good night, sir, Avery fair
22:59
cheer. I wasn't the kind of a man you argued with. I threw
23:03
my coat over my arm, tipped my head to Isabelle, and stepped outside.
23:07
I hadn't once mentioned Skipper Martin to the family. That might have been
23:10
a mistake, but I still wanted to look around before I yelled Copper.
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As I walked past the guest cottage, I decided to go in and check
23:17
Bruce's studio. Maybe the man in the white pH had left a few odd
23:21
footprints on the ceiling. I tossed my coat in a corner chair and started
23:25
through the cutter. Ten minutes later, I'd found nothing. I was about
23:30
to leave when I suddenly remembered the picture of a girl in some clouds that
23:34
Bruce had been so careful to keep out of sight. I hadn't been moved,
23:40
and when I brought it into the light, I didn't have to look
23:41
twice. It was the portrait of Carla Winters, a redheaded dragon lady that
23:51
Skipper Martin had visited. Now things began to add up. At the chaufe's
23:56
quarters. There was an outside telephone and I put through a hurry call a
23:57
Lieutenant Barret hm in La. The best I could get was one Sergeant Neely.
24:03
I'm shy, mister Morrow, but a little tennis hot on the call
24:06
right now. There's some kind of a row up time. But do you
24:07
know where he is? The address? I mean, oh yeah, yeah,
24:10
sure, sure, sir. One of those bungalows are the Wilshire Gottens,
24:14
the Wilshire Gardens. That's right. What's so special about that? Maybe
24:17
nothing alone a minute, thanks Neely. Hello, this is mallowe Barra.
24:29
What brings you to Skipper Martins at this late hour? Well, it seems
24:32
as though some person or person's on own fired a gun several times a little
24:36
more than an hour ago, four shots to be exact. Well, you
24:38
think Skipper Martin fired him? Oh, mollow, I'm sure Martin didn't fire
24:41
them. You see, he stopped him personally. Before I hung up,
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I gave you Borrow a quick rundown on the whole story. After making me
24:55
feel like a schoolboy for keeping him in the dog so long, he told
24:57
me to sit on the Fairchild's front steps until he got there, and that
25:00
gave me a half hour to kill, most of which I spent walking around
25:04
aimlessly trying to get something close to four out of two and two, but
25:10
I couldn't. Finally I heard Ibarra siren up to the front door. I
25:15
was about the head for him when a chill in the morning air reminded me
25:17
that my top coat was still in Bruce's studio. I went back and got
25:21
it. When I turned for the door again, I noticed a little slip
25:25
of paper that had been under the coat fall of the floor. I picked
25:29
it up. I must have held it for a full minute before I realized
25:32
what it meant. Just a small slip of paper, and yet it made
25:37
everything the kidnapping, call of the murder fall right into place. When I
25:45
entered the living room at the house, one glance at Isabelle and Bruce told
25:47
me that she'd already knew about Skipper's death. Only Uncle Avery, who was
25:52
not one to shed crocodile tears, hadn't changed. Ibara, of course,
25:56
was unhappy. Mollow, we can't run any kind of a police department.
26:00
Private detective acts like he's the commissioner himself. Why didn't you call me when
26:03
this business first began to smell? You know better? I'm sorry, Bora,
26:07
and I hate to sound im modest, but I happened to be one
26:08
of the two men in this room who can name Bruce Gordon's kidnapper and Skipper
26:12
Martin's killer. You know what you're saying, Model, I think so.
26:15
The man in the white Panama had who kidnapped Bruce Gordon lieutenant is Bruce Gordon
26:21
himself. In other words, Bruce Gordon kidnap Bruce Gordon. Am I would
26:26
you still say that, Gordon? If we paid a call to Cala Winters
26:29
and as to a hand over the fifty thousand dollars so called ransom money she's
26:32
holding for you too, oh which you prefer? Window we bar then another
26:47
words, mollow Bruce who eventually planned the divorce Isabelle and Marie Carla Winters want
26:52
to have a little steak like fifty thousand dollars around first, that's ready,
26:55
Burra. But Skipper Martin knew about Bruce and Caller's plans to marry later,
27:00
and he tried to blackmail them to pay off his gambling debts. That's why
27:03
he came to Bruce's cottage on the Sly. However, he got there just
27:06
in time to see Bruce leave of his own free will, and therefore knew
27:08
later that he couldn't have been kidnapped, which gave him two holes over Bruce.
27:12
That's right. But he made a mistake when he went to Carlis house
27:15
and got two demanding because she told Bruce about it. And before he released
27:21
himself, he took care of Skipper with four gunshots. To be exact.
27:26
Charming people, aren't they, Barra? Lovely? Sometimes I think I should
27:29
shoot higher and save us. Staid a lot of money and he almost got
27:33
away with it. Oh, by the way, Mollo, how do you
27:36
know that Bruce was the man in the white Panama hat? I was pretty
27:38
certain, but I got my proof accidentally promised not to repeat this, Ybarra.
27:44
Yeah, Well, I practically fell over a little slip of paper in
27:47
his studio. It was a receipt from a department store and it was made
27:49
out to Bruce Gordon for one Panama hat. Huh, nothing else. But
28:03
when I finally got back to my place on Franklin Avenue, the sun was
28:07
already up, and the people who work at nice sane jobs were beginning to
28:12
fill the streets. I'd been on the go for a steady twenty four hours,
28:18
so I could think of nothing but my bed. I was about to
28:21
put my key in the lock when a next door neighbor walk by, bid
28:25
me a cheery good morning and started down the corridor. That alone wouldn't have
28:29
disturbed my sleep. But why why did he have to be wearing a white
28:33
panama hat. The Adventures of Philip Barlow created by Raymond Chandler, stars Gerald
28:51
Moore and is produced and directed by Norman McDonald. Featured in Tonight's Story where
28:55
Jack Willon Dewett is Isabel Gordon, Wilms Herbert as Uncle Avery Fairchild, Lally
29:00
as Bruce Gordon, Shepmankin Skipper Martin, and Lou Krugman as Brock. Detective
29:04
Lieutenant de Barr is played by Jeff Corey. The special music was conceived and
29:08
conducted by Richard o'roon. Be sure to be with us again next week.
29:18
At the same time, when Philip Marlowe says, when her will was read,
29:23
everybody figured she's been crazy when she wrote it, and that included me.
29:26
But I changed my mind after spending the night on an island with a
29:30
pig, cat and an ape, because in reality they were people. Tonight,
29:48
Amos and Andy returned to the CBS network and along with all their friends,
29:52
King Fish Letnin and Henry Van Porter. They're settling down for a permanent
29:55
stay. Be listening for them later this evening over most of these same CBS
29:59
stations. This is Royal Rowan speaking for CBS the Columbia Broadcasting System. Welcome
30:19
back. If there is a single piece of head where that tends to personify
30:27
evil in much of entertainment, it is the Panama hat. The best I
30:34
can figure out is an approximate cause for this. I might refer back to
30:42
the Maltese Falcon where it was worn by Sydney grain Street. And it's interesting
30:55
because it's seen in so many places, and it's a particular killer style,
31:00
and I think generally wearing it with a white suit is kind of a sign
31:07
of, yeah, this is the bad guy. Even think back to Indiana
31:11
Jones and the Last Crusade, when the character had one that he had fought
31:18
when he was a kid had become truly evil. It was the white Panama
31:22
hat that he had taken to wearing with a white suit. I do think
31:26
that in one way that there's another interesting contrast here with Pat Novak for hire,
31:38
and that's how the use of hard boiled dialogue is shown. On Pat
31:45
Novak, it's used, you know, really has the driving point of the
31:49
whole episode is to hear all the dialogue and Philip Marlow, though it's really
31:55
just kind of peppered in for seasoning and for the added flavor of the moment,
32:01
which of course makes for stronger drama overall. All right, well,
32:07
we'll be back tomorrow with Nick Carter. Join us back here next Wednesday for
32:10
another episode of the Adventures of Philip Morrow with Gerald Moore. In the meantime,
32:16
send your comments to Box thirteen at Great Detectives dot NEP, follow us
32:21
on Twitter Radio Detectives, and become one of our friends on Facebook, Facebook,
32:24
dot com, Slash Radiodetactives From Boiseadah, this is your host, Adam
32:30
Graham signing off.