IWCF 78 No Visitors

I was a communist for the FBI. Starring Dana Andrews and an exciting tale of danger and espionage. I was a communist for the FBI. I was a communist for the FBI. From the actual records and authentic experiences of Matt Siverik, from many of the incidents in this unusual story, here is our star, Dana Andrews as Matt Siverik, who for nine fantastic years lived as a communist for the FBI. They never say so, but after a while you learn that no visitors are allowed in the Communist Party. During my nine years as a Red, I learned that when you come to the party, you come to stay. Should the visitor try to leave, he immediately becomes a patient. Condition, critical. Treatment, drastic. And, as in this story, not expected to survive. In a moment, listen to Dana Andrews as Matt Sabatik, Undercover Man. Now here is Dana Andrews as Matt Siverik, undercover man. This story from the confidential file is marked, No Visitors. No Visitors Just another cell meeting? Sure, sure. The same place, the same faces. Comrade Keller, Comrade Ritchie, and the others. The same talk, the same thoughts. Treachery. Malicious intent disguised as the philosophy of the proletariat. But there was something wrong. Tension seemed to crackle through the atmosphere. Comrade Keller, the cell leader, was too withdrawn and distracted. Even reports of party progress hadn't moved him. He was thinking of something else. something he didn't like. It showed in his thin, gaunt face. It even edged in his voice. All right, comrades, all right. Make arrangements to stand by for emergency calls. Every one of you is to be available at any time within the next 48 hours. The reason? We have a traitor among us. A traitor! A comrade determined to sell us out. That's a strong accusation, Comrade Keller. Are you sure of this? A direct report from the party police, Comrade Svedek. I thought that you especially would be interested. Was I that traitor? I made a mental roll call of the commies present as we walked toward the door. Richie? No. He was Keller's pet groom boy. That brass knuckle of virtue also for the group. They were talking together at the desk right now. Dora? Uh-oh. Radovich. No. Fantic! There. It was coming now. The party bird dogs had flushed out a traitor and I. Fantic, you stay here. Shut the door. Okay. What's on your mind, comrade? What do you think is on my mind? I've been discussing this situation with Comrade Ritchie here. We're taking extreme measures. Extreme measures. Yes. Traders are unhealthy. This one will be the unhealthiest of them all. Richie. Okay, okay. You're sure you know this man, Keller? Yes. And you do, too. Do I? He's been one of our most active comrades. Too active. He knows too much. We know he's been in touch with the FBI. So is he. Tell him, comrade. Tell him. His name, Svetik... is Kimball. Henry Kimball. Kimball? Yes, the courier for this area. The liaison man for all the cells in this region. He's selling us out. To the FBI. I can hardly believe it, Keller. Seems he's been using the pay phone in the lobby of his apartment building more than. His own phone. A tap was put on it. We learned that Kimball has. Offered to be the government's surprise witness when our national leaders are brought to trial. Kimball has got to be stopped, Speddy. What do you want me to do? Richie is your. It's got to be quick and clean. It's got to be an accident. Yes. I'm pretty good at accidents. Richie will handle it. And I? You'll stand by in case he needs any help. Great. Just great. A red was turning white, and I had to help block him out. I vowed my allegiance to Richie, told him to call me if he needed me, then headed for a phone booth. A booth as far from commie headquarters as possible. I dialed the FBI and talked to my contacts. Beaker, this is Red. Hi. Something wrong? Yeah. Who's Henry Kimball? One of your comrades. Why? What else is he? What is he to the FBI? Have they tagged him, Matt? Yeah. Tagged and labeled for the obsolete file. We need him for that trial, Matt. He's volunteered to give us... I know it. The whole party knows it. Oh, fine, fine. There's a goon on his trail right now, Beaker. You'd better get to him before. Okay. We'll find him. I'm just a few blocks from his apartment. I'll check up there. Be careful, Lochum. We don't want to overcrowd their obsolete file. From the street outside Kimball's apartment house, I could see a light shining in his flat. That was good. At least I could pass a warning on to him, put him on the alert until the FBI tucked him safely away. Come on. Come on. Oh, Kimball. Oh. Hello, Richie. What do you want, Svetty? Put that gun away and I'll tell you. I thought you might be Kimball. You were told to stand by for orders. What are you doing here? I came here to get Kimball out in the open. The kind of accidents we want can't happen. In his own apartment. Now, come on in. Wait till he shows up. Suppose he doesn't show up. Come on in. Party's got a net out for him. When someone spots him, headquarters gets word fast. I check in by phone every ten minutes. Sit down. Make yourself at home. Kimball won't be using this place much longer. I sat down. Richie paced the room, glancing at his watch every few seconds. Finally, it was time for him to call Keller again. Had anyone seen Kimball yet? They spotted him. Radovich saw him just a few minutes ago. He's driving that blue convertible of his. He's heading toward Ocean Highway. Well, let's go. Ah, not you. Why not? This is a big, fat one, Svedek. This one is all mine. How long ago did your goon boy leave, man? About three, four minutes ago, Beaker. Kimball's headed for Ocean Highway. So's Richie. Get there first, Beaker, for heaven's sake. Get there first. After that, there was nothing to do but wait. I went to party headquarters and waited with Comrade Keller. Keller was a wreck. Pacing, circling the phone, waiting. Circling, pacing, waiting, waiting, waiting. Stop drumming those fingers, Steady. All right. Why doesn't he call? Why? Why? Take it easy, Keller. He'll call. He'll call when he's done. Wait a minute. I'll get it. Hello? Who's this? Reddick. Miss Ritchie? Yeah. Well? He didn't get to Ocean Highway. What do you mean? He saw me following her and changed his course. And? He went up the cliff road. And? And? He had an accident. Funny thing. Drove his car right off the road. Those cliffs are high. I'd say it was a fatal accident. Mission completed. The red mission completed. Kimball had tried to leave the commie road for the straight and narrow, but he wasn't careful enough. It had led him right over a cliff. Now, Comet Keller. Was no longer there. He was laughing now. Fatal accidents were great fun to Kelley. News like that, relaxing. What could be funnier? What could be more amusing? And now, Freddy, and now to report our success to the control commission. You think they'll enjoy it as much as you, Keller? Oh, I'm sure they will. Well, you're probably right. Tomorrow, tomorrow morning, first thing, our. Cell will need to find a way to weed out the other traitors. This may be fun after all, Svetik. More fun than we expected, huh, Svetik? So Keller left to meet with the control commission and I went home. It was difficult to sleep that night. The next morning at the cell meeting. it was obvious that Keller had had even more difficulty than I. He wasn't laughing anymore. His eyes were red-rimmed. And sunken, his cheeks even more hollow than usual. He looked grim, and he had good reason. You saw the newspapers, comrade? You read these papers? No. I'll read them for you. I'll read them to. You just as the Control Commission read them to me when the editions hit the street. Listen. Government witness in mystery accident. Henry Kimball, a communist courier who had secretly volunteered to testify as a government witness in the forthcoming trial of Red Party leaders, was found seriously injured last night. You're here, not dead, not dying, just seriously injured. FBI agents arrived on the scene of the accident only minutes after it occurred. A spokesman for the Bureau reported that. They had good reason to believe Kimball's mishap had been prearranged and premeditated. You wonder why I'm upset? You wonder why I act this way? Well, I wonder how the FBI just happened to be so close to the scene of the accident. I wonder why they believe the accident was prearranged. Well, what have you to say? What has anyone to say? Comrade Keller. Fettick. I noticed that Comrade Ritchie is absent this morning. He'll be absent every morning from now on, Fettick. He failed at his most important assignment. He'll suffer the same penalty as any traitor. To the cause. Now, what about Kimball, Comrade? What if he lives? If he lives, he'll have more to say than ever before. Well, you said you knew there were other traitors in league with Kimball, didn't you? Yes, comrade, and it's time we found them. Kimball must be silenced completely, and the traitors. Must be found. All right, that's all, comrade. I said that's all, that's all. Get out, all of you. All of you, out, out, out. All but you. Yes, comrade Stedic, you. You stay right here. What for? For good reasons, Stetic. For very good reasons. THE END. Now back to Dana Andrews, starring as Matt Siverik in I Was a Communist for the FBI and the second act of our story. For the second time in two days, Keller had dismissed the cell and ordered me to stay. I'd been lucky the first time, But this time, this time he found a. Leak in the party line. He was looking for its cause, and he'd ordered me to stay. He was looking right at me. For good reasons, Spetic. Very good reasons. May I sit down? No. What do you want? I spent the entire night with the control commission, Spetic. We had no time to sleep. When the newspapers came out, we couldn't sleep. That's understandable. They talked about you, Svetik. They talked and I listened. May I ask why? To be sure you're the right man. I still don't know what you're talking about. I'm talking about Henry Kimball. He's still alive in that hospital. Can you blame me for that? No, you imbecile. Of course not. Well, then... Then what? I made a grave mistake assigning Kimball's accident to a fool like Richie. Richie failed. You'll have to succeed. Me? You mean you... You want me to murder Kimball? It's got to be done. If he lives, he'll testify at that trial. At this point, the job needs intelligent handling, fast thinking, polished technique. But Kimball's in a hospital. The FBI probably has a security screen around him that you. Can't... Exactly why we need a man like you. And if I fail? You won't fail. Richie failed. You know what happened to him. Not a chance, Matt. Kimball's room is. Guarded like Fort Knox. Beaker, I've got to get into that hospital. No, Matt. Look, if I don't get in, the party will send another red to do the job on Kimball. And his intentions would be a lot less honorable than mine. No one's permitted in there without clearance, Matt. You can clear me, can't you? It may be rough, Matt. If I don't make it look good for the commie speaker, I'm a dead pigeon. And they'll send someone else to get Kimball. Okay. Go down to the hospital first thing tomorrow. Apply for a job as a ward attendant. I'll see that you're assigned to Kimball's ward. I followed Beaker's instructions. It wasn't too difficult. Every hospital in town was crying for help, experience or otherwise. I wasn't told, but I knew that my. Application would have to be cleared by the FBI because of the security screen around the place. Beaker saw to it that the application was pushed through fast. Even Keller was surprised when I told him I was hired. Without experience, Fetty? It seems impossible. They're short of help, Keller. That's no secret. You'll locate the room, of course. You'll waste no time. At your first opportunity, you'll enter that room. And then what? This. A hypodermic? I don't know how to use another. Sterile technique won't be necessary in the arm, leg, anywhere. One injection of this fluid is all he'll need. This hypo will take care of everything. A hospital at night. The uninitiated seems to be alive with sounds that emphasize the silence. A faraway cough, a moan, or the hiss of layward breathing coming in a darkened room. I wasn't a very efficient ward attendant. My clumsiness irritated the night nurse beyond words. She found every excuse. To be away from me. That part was fine. It gave me a chance to empty the poisonous fluid from the syringe Keller had given me and refill it with sterile water. At least if I had to administer this to Kimball, it wouldn't do any harm. Matt? Matt, answer me. What? Oh, yes, ma'am. Bring me that tricky auto-retreat and hurry up. Which train? Take it out of me, pray. It's on the second shelf. And hurry, this patient. Okay, okay. And next time you work nights, don't wear leather heels. This is a hospital, not a dance floor. Oh, I'm sorry. So am I. You'd better fill the water filters in the room. We'll be busy later. All the rooms? All of them. I can't leave this patient now. But I thought 412 was restricted. It is, but you've been cleared. You can enter 412. Oh, listen to that. It's a sorry state. Of affairs when a ward attendant has to be cleared. To fill water pictures. Go on, go on. There won't be time later. Room 412 was Henry Kimball's room. I visited every room on the floor before entering that room. I didn't know what to do. What could I possibly do that might placate the commies without actually harming Kimball? There was a plainclothes man, or perhaps a federal agent, stationed at the. Door of the Kimball's room. He'd been watching me casually as I made my rounds. I hoped he'd stop me, but he didn't. He just nodded and smiled. After all, I was just another hospital employee cleared by the FBI. Inside Kimball's room, the nightlight was glowing dimly near his bed. Kimball lay still, very still, As I approached his bed, though, he tossed restlessly. I skirted around the bed, filled a small water pitcher from the large. One I was carrying. Okay. Okay, Mr. Kimball. There you. Are. Just turn your head a little bit so I can get this to your mouth. You're sweating! You're spreading. Shh, it's all right. You're a red commie. They told me there wouldn't be any commies here. It's all right, Kimball. There's nothing to worry about. They said the reds couldn't find me. You're a red. You're a commie. Bruce! Bruce, he's a red. He's trying to kill me. I'm trying to help you. He's trying to kill me. Kimball, please, be quiet. He killed me. No! No! That did it. The man guarding Kimball's room saw to it that I was relieved of my duty fast. I'd been called a commie. Maybe the patient was just hysterical or delirious or out of his mind. But maybe Kimball was telling the truth, too. I was taken into custody. The guard called the local FBI office. A car was sent for me. I was taken downtown. Then I waited and waited and waited. There was activity behind the doors in the inner office. Voices. Sealing my doom, no doubt. For Beaker had warned me that he probably couldn't help me if I got caught. There. They were motioning me inside now. FBI men who had no idea I was risking my neck to help them. None of them knew. None of them... All right, fellas. Thanks a lot. I'll handle the medic alone. Hello, Beaker. Matt. I told you I probably couldn't help you. I know. I know. Well, where do I go from here? Back to the Reds. What? Yeah, you've been cleared. Go on now. Take off. And Matt, for. Pete's sake, be careful. I can't afford to lose all his sleep. There were still a few hours left of the morning. I spent them walking the streets. Kimball was safe. But how safe was I? I'd hoped to. Find some means of keeping the Reds happy. Something to make them think I'd done my job. For them and done it well. But now, there's no chance of that. No chance of... Wait a minute. Wait just one big fat minute. Well, Svetik, how'd you make out with Kimball? Speak up, Svetik. What happened? What's wrong with you? I want an audience with the control commission, Keller. And I want it now. What are you talking about? You heard me. I want a report. What happened with Kimball? I want to know. After I see the control commission. You... You. You! All right. All right, you'll see the control commission, all right. And they'll see that you suffer the penalty for failure, for. Insubordination, for... Come on! And, comrade commissioner, this fool was assigned to follow your orders, to administer that hypo to Kimball. And he failed, comrade, failed. This is true, Leddy. It's true, comrade commissioner. I did not give Kimball a hypo. I suggest you explain and explain fully. Sure. When I entered Kimball's room, I found him in a semi-delirious state. So, go on. He was ranting and raving about the fate of his friend. Not comrade, mind you. Friend. He wanted to know if they'd be treated the same. Way by the party. Would they be killed? Would they meet accident, as he did? These were the worries he was ranting about. So, go on, go on. I knew if I waited long enough, I'd learn the identity of those friends. I'd discover who the other traitors are, the ones preparing to sell us out. You did right. Go on, you learned the names? Yes, I did. Who? One of them was Comrade Ritchie. Oh, no wonder he didn't finish the job on Kimball. And the other was Comrade Keller. What? You, Keller? You? He's crazy, Comrade Commissioner. He's lying. That's insufficient evidence. Maybe this is stronger. This? The hypodermic? Yes. This is the hypo Keller gave me to poison Kimball. Go on. Check its contents. You'll find that poison to be nothing but plain, sterile water. He's lying, I tell you. I swear he's lying. He's lying. You can't believe him. You can't. You can't. Thank you, Comrade Svetich. You may go now. No, no. Don't let him go. He's lying. Stop. You may go, Comrade Svetich. So you're clear with the commies, Matt? Yeah, I'm a hero. But be careful, Beaker. They won't give up on Kimball, you know. Yeah, they won't reach him. He couldn't get in without our help, and we don't intend to help any authentic Red. How's Kimball's health? Better. Doctor says he's out of danger. How about you, Matt? Are you? Out of danger? For the moment, I am. Just for the moment. That was all. I hung up, stepped out of the phone booth, and walked away. Where to? Which way? Home? No. Too many memories. Too many shadows heavy with might have been. The party headquarters? Oh, I'd be welcome there, all right. But I couldn't go like this. Not so soon. Friends? No. There are no friends when you walk this road. There can be no friends when you walk alone. Dana Andrews will return in just a moment. This is Dana Andrews, friends. You can't give people freedom. They have it to begin with. You can give them tyranny, but not for long. For tyranny is no substitute for democracy. It's a challenge. And as long as there is an America, that challenge will be accepted. In this story, as in all others, names, dates, and places are fictitious to protect innocent persons. Many of these stories are based on incidents in the life of Matt Svedek, who worked undercover for the FBI. Next week, another fantastic adventure. Join us then, won't you? THE END