DOC SAVAGE Program Number Twelve "The Too-Talkative Parrot" CAST DOC SAVAGE..............Deep, cultured, impressive voice, outstanding. MONK....................Small, shrill voice, pleasantly tough guy. LAURA...................Pleasant voice. AL......................Young man, breezy manner. BARBER..................Coarse, hick voice, tough guy. PARROT..................Shrill parrot imitation. BIZ: 1--Trilling sound, Doc's signature. 2--Motorboat. 3--Shots. 4--Splashing in water. 5--Rapid footsteps. 6--Panting or rapid breathing. 7--Crashing of brush. 8--Blows of fight. 9--Door slam. 1O--Blows. Playing Time: 15 minutes. Script by: Lester Dent (Kenneth Robeson) EFFECT: (TRILLING SOUND) ANNOUNCER: What is that sound? EFFECT: (TRILLING SOUND) ANNOUNCER: That sound, ladies and gentlemen, is the danger call of Doc Savage. It is the signal for the beginning of another thrill-charged Doc Savage drama brought to you by Cystex. Doc Savage, you know, is the scientific genius and man of great physical strength who has devoted his life to helping others out of trouble. (PLUG) And now, what do we see? It is a foggy, damp afternoon and there is a chill in the air... Let's see... there is water all about us. It is a large lake in the Maine woods... And what is that ahead? An island! A rocky, forlorn island, half hidden in the fog. Listen! BIZ: (MOTORBOAT AND HOLD UNTIL CUE TO CUT) (APPROACH MIKE SLOWLY) ANNOUNCER: Ah, it is a motor boat. In it is a bronze giant of a man. That will be Doc Savage. And there is another fellow, a big, hairy chap who looks as if he were a close relative to a gorilla. That will be Monk, sometimes known as Andrew Blodgett Mayfair. Monk is Doc Savage's assistant. Doc and Monk seem to be puzzled. Listen. BIZ: (MOTORBOAT IN LOUD, THEN DECREASE AND HOLD) DOC: There is the island, Monk. MONK: Yeah, Doc. Where'd we better land? DOC: Let us swing along the shore... There must be a boathouse or a wharf somewhere. EFFECT: (PAUSE) MONK: Say, Doc. DOC: Yes, Monk. MONK: What's the low-down? DOC: I cannot tell you, Monk. MONK: (INJURED VOICE) Well, if it's like that-- DOC: (INTERRUPTS) Not at all, Monk. I trust you. Aren't you my assistant? It is simply that I do not know why we are here, Monk. All I know is that telegram we received. MONK: Lemme read that again, Doc. DOC: Very well. Here it is. EFFECT: (PAUSE) MONK: This telegram just says, "Imperative I have assistance of man of your reputation and ability. Stop. Only your help will save my life." Hm-m-m... the rest of the message just tells how to find this lake and the island. And it's signed "Hopewell." Do you know anybody by the name of Hopewell? DOC: No, I don't, Monk. I'm sure of that. MONK: Kind of a goofy telegram, huh? DOC: How do you mean? MONK: Well, you kinda expect to find stuff like this in books, but not in... Hey, look! On that rock sticking out of the water... the one close to the shore... Look! BIZ: (CUT MOTORBOAT) EFFECT: (PAUSE) MONK: See her, Doc? DOC: Yes, Monk. It's a young woman, a girl. She's lying on the' rock about thirty feet from shore. MONK: (CALLS) Ahoy there, young woman! (PAUSE) Hey, you on the rock! What's wrong? (PAUSE) She don't answer, Doc. Say, it looks like-- DOC: She's unconscious, all right. I'll swing the boat over that way... MONK: I'll use this oar and kinda paddle from the stern. We won't need to start the motor. BIZ: (SPLASH OF OARS) MONK: She's unconscious, all right. Must have hurt herself, then climbed onto that rock and fainted. DOC: Swing in closer to the rock, Monk. PARROT: (IN DISTANCE) (WORDS BARELY UNDERSTANDABLE) Laura, Laura, where are you, Laura... Hello... Hello... ahr... khar... MONK: Hey, Doc, hear that? DOC: Yes. Came from on the island somewhere. PARROT: (IN DISTANCE) (WORDS BARELY UNDERSTANDABLE) Laura, Laura, help, help... ahr... khar... help! MONK: There it is again! What do you make of that, Doc? DOC: It did not seem quite human. MONK: Say, it sounded to me like... PARROT: (INTERRUPTS) (IN DISTANCE) (WORDS BARELY UNDERSTANDABLE) Laura... You're the man from Jimmie's... help, help, ahr... ahr... ahr... MONK: It's somebody calling for help. Sounds like a woman! DOC: We had better investigate. Use your oar, Monk. Get the boat close to this girl and we'll pick her up. BIZ: (SPLASH OF OARS) MONK: Can you reach her yet, Doc? DOC: Just about. MONK: Say, she's pretty, ain't she? DOC: Rather attractive Now, Monk, if you'll give one more stroke with that oar... Oh, oh. (YELLS) Monk, look out! MONK: What the-- (YELLS) Hey, Doc! Watch it! BIZ: (FIVE SHOTS, RAPID) (SPLASHING) EFFECT: (PAUSE) DOC: All right, Monk? MONK: Yeah. But I wouldn't have been if you hadn't knocked me overboard when that guy started shooting. Did he hit you? DOC: No. Did you see the person who did the shooting? MONK: Naw. Did you? DOC: No. He was behind some brush. MONK: Whatcha doin', Doc? DOC: Hauling the girl down off the rock. We'll keep her behind it here, where we are. MONK: What's the idea? DOC: Our gunman friend may take a shot at her. MONK: Oh, I see. You think he must've knocked her over the head and put her out on this rock for bait, huh? DOC: That is it exactly, Monk. The girl was a bait to draw us close to shore, a decoy to pull us to a point where that fellow with the gun could shoot. MONK: Boy, if you hadn't done some tall jumpin', his scheme might've worked. PARROT: (IN DISTANCE) (WORDS BARELY UNDERSTANDABLE) Laura, Laura... you're the man from Jimmie's... Laura, Laura, help, help, help... ahr... ahr... ahr... kwa-w-h! MONK: There's that screaming again. Say, it sounds queer, don't it? DOC: It seems to come from the other side of the island. BIZ: (CRACKLING OF BRUSH) MONK: Hey, hear that? It's brush cracking! DOC: The fellow who shot at us! He is getting away! Come on! MONK: Bring the girl, Doc? DOC: Yes, bring her! BIZ: (SPLASHING OF WATER AS MONK AND DOC DASH ASHORE) (RAPID FOOTSTEPS) DOC: He's going this way, Monk! MONK: Why d'you reckon he set that trap for us, Doc? DOC: Obviously it's someone who does not want us to help that man Hopewell, who sent us the telegram. BIZ: (PAUSE DURING WHICH ONLY RAPID FOOTSTEPS HEARD) (RAPID BREATHING) (CRASHING OF BRUSH) MONK: Blazes! This brush is thick! DOC: Wait, Monk! Stop! BIZ: (CUT FOOTSTEPS) EFFECT: (PAUSE) PARROT: Laura, Laura the man from Jimmie's... kwa--ark! MONK: There's that funny screeching again. Sounds like the name, Laura, and something about a man from Jimmie's. DOC: Quiet, Monk. Do you hear the fellow we were chasing? MONK: Wonder where he went? DOC: Ducked into the brush somewhere and stopped, probably. We'll look around. BIZ: (SLOW FOOTSTEPS) (BRUSH CRASHING) MONK: Doc! There's somebody! DOC: I'll get him! You stay with the girl! BIZ: (RAPID FOOTSTEPS) (BRUSH CRASHING) DOC: You, stop! BIZ: (BLOWS AND SCUFFLE) DOC: No use trying to get away, young man! AL: I wasn't trying to get away! DOC: (SKEPTICAL) Oh, no! Then why put up a fight? AL: You'd put up a fight too, guy, if somebody jumped out of the brush onto you like you jumped onto me. DOC: What's your name? AL: Say, who're you to be asking me... Oh, oh! DOC: Well, why the surprise? AL: I just recognized you. Saw your picture in the papers a few times. You're Doc Savage. Say, what's a guy as famous as you doing up here on this island? DOC: I'll ask the questions! What is your name? AL: Al Roberts. DOC: Where is your rifle? AL: What rifle? Say, I haven't got any rifle. I was over at the hotel and heard a shot and came running to see what it was. DOC: I see. There is a hotel on the island, eh? AL: Yes. A summer hotel. Say, I'll bet I know why you are here! You're investigating the murder of Bill Hopewell. DOC: Hopewell murdered? AL: About two hours ago. Somebody stuck a knife in his back. DOC: So his telegram was true... His life was really in danger. AL: What's this about a telegram? DOC: Never mind. Walk ahead of me, Roberts. BIZ: (FOOTSTEPS) MONK: You got him, eh, Doc? DOC: This is Al Roberts, Monk. He claims he is not the man who shot at us, although I caught him nearby. Roberts, this is my assistant, Monk. AL: I've read in the newspapers about you, too, Monk. MONK: The girl's comin' out of it, Doc. She was only cracked on the head. AL: What's this, a girl? MONK: This one over here. AL: Why, that's Laura Hopewell! DOC: Any relation to the dead man? AL: His sister. MONK: Doc, did you say something about a dead man? DOC: The man who sent for us, Hopewell, has been stabbed to death with a knife, Monk. Wait... there seems to be someone coming. BIZ: (RAPID FOOTSTEPS IN DISTANCE AND BRING NEARER MIKE) MONK: That bird seems to be in a hurry! BIZ: (FOOTSTEPS NEAR MIKE AND CUT) BARBER: What's goin' on here? Answer up, by crackey, or I'll turn loose with this shotgun. AL: It's all right, Barber. Doc Savage and his assistant, Monk, are here to look into the murder of Hopewell. You've heard of Doc Savage, haven't you, Barber? BARBER: Kain't say as I have. AL: Mr. Savage, Barber is a guide who takes fishing parties out on the lake. DOC: I am very glad to meet you, Barber. BARBER: Be ye a detective? DOC: Not exactly. BARBER: Then what be ye? AL: I'll explain. Listen, Barber, Doc Savage is a man who goes all over the world helping other people out of trouble, and punishing those who do wrong. He's here to help Hopewell. BARBER: Too late fur anybody to help that feller Hopewell. MONK: Doc! I think the girl is conscious. DOC: Yes, she is... Young lady, can you talk? LAURA: Um-m-m, my head! Somebody struck me from behind, as I was walking through the woods. DOC: Did you see who it was? LAURA: No, I didn't. I... heard Al say you are Doc Savage. Is that right? DOC: That was right. LAURA: My brother sent for you. DOC: Yes... that is why we are here. Have you any idea why he was killed? LAURA: I certainly have! DOC: Please tell us! LAURA: Have you ever heard of Jimmie the Knife? DOC: Jimmie the Knife... Yes, yes, of course. He is the big-time racketeer who is soon to go on trial for murder. LAURA: Exactly, Mr. Savage. And my brother was the principal witness against Jimmie the Knife. He saw this Jimmie the Knife shoot a man to death. DOC: If your brother does not testify, can the state convict this Jimmie the Knife? LAURA: They can not! And that explains why he was murdered! Jimmie the Knife did it or had it done. DOC: Yes, obviously. But proving it may be difficult. PARROT: (IN DISTANCE) Laura, Laura, help, help the man from Jimmie's... help, help, kwah... kar... ar-r-r... MONK: There's that screeching again! LAURA: That's my brother's parrot. MONK: Parrot! LAURA: Yes. The bird was my brother's pet. It has been calling for me and screaming, "The man from Jimmie's...help, help... help," ever since my brother was... killed. MONK: Sounds like the parrot must have been on hand when the murder was committed. DOC: Let us go to the hotel. You lead the way, Barber. Al, you keep close to me. AL: So you still suspect me of shooting at you? DOC: Never mind. Just stay near me, Al. EFFECT: (PAUSE) BIZ: (DOOR SLAM) PARROT: Laura, Laura help, help the man from Jimmie's ahrk... ark... squawk.... MONK: Well, we're in the hotel. PARROT: Laura, Laura MONK: Talkative parrot, Miss Hopewell. Does it always call your name? LAURA: Yes. (BROKENLY) That is like my brother used to call me. BARBER: The dead man be in the next room, if you all wanta see 'im. DOC: To be sure. Has anything been disturbed, Barber? BARBER: Hain't nothin' been moved. DOC: Anyone left the island? BARBER: Not that I know of. DOC: Well, let's examine the body. PARROT: Laura, Laura... help... who'd have thought it of you, Al... ark... awk.... DOC: Wait! That parrot may tell us something. PARROT: Ark... wawrk... DOC: Come on, polly! Talk to us. Who killed your master? PARROT: Wawrk... DOC: Is there anything to coax it to talk, Miss Hopewell? LAURA: I can't think of anything. DOC: Come on, polly! Polly want a cracker? PARROT: Ark... Laura, Laura... Al, Al, don't kill me... Al, Al... MONK: That cinches it, Doc! Al done it! AL: Now look here! MONK: Pipe down you! DOC: That's it, Monk. Hold him! AL: That bird's a liar! I didn't do it! DOC: It is doubtful if the jury would convict you on the evidence of a parrot. BARBER: The knife that killed Hopewell wasn't found. Maybe the parrot can tell us where it is. DOC: That is an idea... Polly, polly, talk to us. EFFECT: (PAUSE) MONK: Come on, talk up, you green wad of feathers! Where's the knife? If you don't know that, tell us something! EFFECT: (PAUSE) LAURA: It's not going to talk. DOC: Sometimes if a parrot is placed in a room by itself, it will talk more freely. I'm going to try that. I'll take the cage (RECEDING FROM MIKE) into this next room and see if that gets any better results. EFFECT: (PAUSE) BIZ: (FOOTSTEPS COME NEAR MIKE AND STOP) DOC: Now, we'll see if the parrot talks. EFFECT: (PAUSE) PARROT: Laura, help, help... Jimmie... awrk... ark... MONK: (WHISPERS) It's gonna talk, Doc. DOC: Yes. Wait. PARROT: Jimmie... Jimmie... I never dreamed you were from Jimmie, Al. Al... ark.... MONK: (WHISPERS) The bird is repeating talk it overheard before the murder. PARROT: Ark... aw-waw-ark... I'm gonna croak you, Hopewell... ark... then I'll ditch the knife in my room... ark... help, help! DOC: Go look in Al's room for the knife, Monk. MONK: On my way, Doc. But watch Al, here. He's elected it. BIZ: (DOOR SLAM) (PAUSE) (DOOR SLAM) MONK: Here's the knife, Doc! It was hidden under his mattress! AL: This is a frameup! I tell you, I didn't kill Hopewell! DOC: Of course you did not. EFFECT: (PAUSE) MONK: Doc, you say he did not kill Hopewell? DOC: Come into the next room, everybody. I want to show you something. MONK: You mean into the room where you took the parrot? DOC: Yes. Into the room where I took the parrot. BIZ: (CLATTER OF FEET) MONK: For the love of mud! The parrot isn't here! DOC: Exactly. When I brought the bird in, I set the cage out doors and closed the window. LAURA: But we heard the bird as if it came from this room! DOC: Exactly. And that tripped up the murderer. MONK: What do you mean? DOC: I mean that one of us is the murderer... someone in this room, I should say. That person tried to throw guilt on Al, here, by speaking through the medium of the parrot. MONK: I don't get you, Doc. DOC: The murderer is a ventriloquist! He can imitate a parrot and throw his voice. He went one step too far when he tried to tip us off where to hunt for the knife... the knife he had planted under an innocent man's mattress after the killing. LAURA: You talk like you know who it is? DOC: Yes. I watched his throat muscles that last time he threw his voice. BARBER: Why, karnsarn ye... DOC: I wouldn't, Barber. No, I wouldn't try to use that shot gun... You will, will you.... BIZ: (BLOWS) DOC: Yes, it was you, Barber, who pulled the little act of ventriloquism. You might have gotten away with it, except that the parrot was just a little too pat with its talk. Parrot talk usually does not make much sense, but this one did make sense... entirely too much sense. MONK: Lemme hold 'im, Doc. Yeah, Barber, you were just too good! BARBER: Aw-w-w, lay off me! MONK: Yep. You had a parrot talking where there wasn't any parrot. That was your mistake. ANNOUNCER: And now Cystex bids you good afternoon until this time next week, when we offer you another smashing Doc Savage drama, replete with action, thrills and unexpected twists. Doc Savage is put on the air exclusively by Cystex, and with the permission of Street & Smith, copyright owners of Doc Savage Magazine.