Caesars Wife

And now stay tuned for the program that has rated tops in popularity for a longer period of time than any other West Coast program in radio history. The Signal Oil Program? The Whistler? Signal, the famous Go Father gasoline invites you to sit back and enjoy another strange story by the Whistler.

I am the Whistler, and I know many things, or I walk by night. I know many strange tales, hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

And now, for the signal oil company, the Whistler's strange story. Caesar's wife, they were starting the day, the three of them, Just as they had begun every Monday morning for as long as any of them could remember.

But that was because none of them had any premonition of what was going to happen in the next 24 hours. Frank Conway, the Caesar of the Rackets, was standing in front of the mirror in his luxurious hotel suite.

Joel, his personal barber, who had just finished trimming his hair, did nothing but stand there behind him holding a towel. He watched as Frank Conway shaved himself with an electric razor. Joe was wondering what to do with his hands, feeling as awkward and helpless on this occasion as he did on many other Monday morning routines.

The weekly command performance at eight o'clock shots and Conway's sweep. Kirby Morton, the other man in the room, was more relaxed. After many years with Conway, he'd learn to accept anything. Joe? Yes, Mr. Martin.

I wouldn't stand behind the boss like that. You make him nervous. I'd make sure I think I'm nervous, Kirby. I don't know. I just got the idea from the way you talked to Judge Faulkner yesterday.