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An Entire Village Is Haunted By A MAN WITHOUT A BODY! | Paranormal & True Crime Old Time Radio!

2025/6/6

Weird Darkness: Stories of the Paranormal, Supernatural, Legends, Lore, Mysterious, Macabre, Unsolved

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The Black Museum. Affiliated stations present Escape. Fantasy. Inner Sanctum. Light. The Seal. Presents Suspense. I am the Whistler.

Welcome, Weirdos! I'm Darren Marlar and this is Retro Radio, old-time radio in the dark, brought to you by WeirdDarkness.com. Here I have the privilege of bringing you some of the best dark, creepy, and macabre old-time radio shows ever created.

If you're new here, welcome to the show. While you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, sign up for our free newsletter, connect with us on social media, listen to free audiobooks that I've narrated. Plus, you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression, dark thoughts, or addiction. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.

Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into tonight's retro radio, old-time radio in the dark. The CBS Radio Mystery Theater presents... ♪♪

Come in. Welcome. I'm E.G. Marshall. One always admires the truth seekers, and rightly so. However, there have been times when men of good conscience have deliberately concealed the truth because they felt it would be unbearably painful.

Paraphrasing the 17th century philosopher Vico, it might be said that men who do not know the truth of things try to reach certainty about them to satisfy their conscience. And yet the discovery of truth can sometimes bring about the exact opposite effect. It satisfies everything except one's conscience. If I understand you correctly, and I think I do, Monsieur Dubois,

You're telling me that you know exactly what I'm going to find out. And that it's ugly and venomous. And therefore should be kept secret. I say more than that, madame. I issue you a warning and I beg you to heed it while there is still time. If you persist in this search, it will lead you inevitably to those who hold life very cheaply.

So I ask you for your own sake, go home. Go home before you damage yourself irreparably. Our mystery drama, Sleeping Dogs, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Murray Burnett and stars Marion Seldes. It is sponsored in part by Sinoff, the Sinus Medicines, and Buick Motor Division. I'll be back shortly with Act One. Act One

Memory is the great eraser. It has a way of betraying our senses by blotting out the jagged edges of sorrow and unhappiness and leaving us with a false glow of happiness for the good old days.

Although it has been proven that the good old days weren't really so good at all. Many of us refuse to believe it, preferring to trust our memories. And some of us even go so far as to spend a lot of time in trying to relive the past. Don, Don, did you see this article in tonight's paper? Mm-hmm. You were dozing again. No, no, I was sleeping. Listen to this.

Yesterday, the remaining members of that gallant underground group of World War II, Les Insurgents, had a sad reunion. The occasion was the funeral of one of their comrades, Léon Bourlet, who died after a long illness, reducing the living members of that famous band to six.

Les Insurgents were renowned for their daring exploits during the Nazi occupation and for being the link between a group of U.S. paratroops and the Free French Forces some months prior to D-Day. Now, what do you think of that? Leon Berlay. He was a good man, Leon. Was he? Or was he the man who turned over Lance to the Gestapo? Oh, please, Florence. I thought that perhaps you were beginning to forget. Please, let's not tear at this thing. I could stop if I once knew.

Was Leon Bole the man who betrayed Lance? Oh, he couldn't have been. You sound so infuriatingly certain about who it could not have been, and so eternally vague about who it really was. I happen to know that Leon was operating in the south of France at the time Lance was dropped, and I doubt if they ever met. But you don't happen to know who turned Lance over to the Nazis? No. No, I don't. I'm no longer going to accept that answer, Don. Florence, we've been through this so many times, and so uselessly.

Please don't let that news item upset you. It hasn't upset me. It's given me an idea. I'm going to Paris. Somebody there must know. After 30 years, it's been forgotten, I'm sure. If anyone ever really did know... I've been married to you for more than 20 years, Don. And I still can't understand your attitude about Lance's death.

After all, you were both in the same outfit. Florence, millions of people were killed in the war, and a lot of them were paratroopers. But only one was Lance Sheldon. And he didn't have to die. He died because some coward turned him into the Germans to save his own skin. Do you think it's right that whoever that was should go unpunished?

I don't think the man went unpunished. I think Les Insurgents took care of him. Well, then why don't you or anyone else know his name? Because of Les Insurgents. I was there. I worked with them. They had a fierce pride in themselves and their love of France. To the public, every one of Les Insurgents was a hero. If one wasn't, no one will ever know. And that's the way they intend to keep it. I'm just as proud of Lance and his record.

He was so beautifully young, Don. So brave. I'm sorry. I'm leaving for Paris as soon as I can get on a plane. Florence, do you believe I love you? Oh, Don, of course. Then listen to me when I tell you not to go. Not to waste your time. Oh, how can I explain this to you? The times were... they were different then. No, they were murderous.

It wasn't only the war and the killings and the fear. It was the people. I don't want you rooting around in that garbage. It could be dangerous. You don't have the faintest idea of what you might be getting into or even where to start. Yes, I do. I just read part of the newspaper article to you. The rest of it dealt with a priest...

Father Vilmi. He's the parish priest where Léon Bole was buried, and he used to be one of the leaders of Les Insurgents. I'm going to start with him. Father Vilmi? Yes, come in. Thank you. My name is Florence Peterson. Mrs. Peterson. Yes, madame? I read about you in the paper in America, about Les Insurgents.

Yes, and... This is my second marriage. My first husband was Lance Sheldon. I've come a long way to get an answer to something that's been bothering me all these years. If I can help you in any way...

I want the name of the man who betrayed my husband. I'm sorry, Madame Peterson, but I do not have the information you seek. Well, I find that strange, Father. You must admit, you were one of the leaders of Les Insurgents. You knew Lance. And yet, you don't know the name of the member of your group who betrayed him? You are a good woman, Madame Peterson. I...

I am aware of your feelings, but you are completely unaware of the way a well-organized underground works. If it is to survive, it had better see that all of its members know as little as possible about everyone else. But you knew Lance. I did.

I had been chosen as the contact for Lance and others. Well, can't you try to recall something that happened? Something that... It is a long time ago, madame. It is the dead past. Let it remain dead. Don said it would be like this. Don? My husband, Don Peterson...

He said you'd be hiding behind some silly sense of keeping the memory of Les Insurgents bright and shiny. That you didn't care about punishing the traitor. He's a wise man. Why didn't you heed what he said? Your first husband is dead.

If you will forgive me, you are living with a memory. It is best you forget it. You and Les Incerges are also living with memories. If you're entitled to them, then I'm determined to have mine whole and complete, the way you want yours. The End

Salad nicoise and black coffee is all I want. No wine, thank you. No wine? But, madame, in Paris, that's unthinkable. Thank you. I don't want either wine or your company. But I think you do, madame. You are madame Florence Peterson, are you not? Yes, I am, but... Paul Dubois, you left a message for me. Oh, for you to telephone.

You must forgive me, but I hardly expected you to come here. Such a cryptic message, madame. If you are interested in the history of Les Arts Surgeon, call madame Peterson at the Versailles. I say to myself, Paul, be careful. How does this lady know about you and Les Arts Surgeon? Perhaps it would be wise to find her personally and take her by surprise. And voila, I'm here.

I am no longer afraid. What were you afraid of? Who knows? Ghosts, madame. Evil shadows of the ugly past. A stirring of old cautions.

I do not know if you would understand. Of course I do. You will be so kind as to tell me how you knew about me and Les Arts Surjean. I read it in the newspaper. You were one of the men who attended the funeral of Léon Bollet. Ah, and why should that have interested you? Before I married Donald Peterson, I was married to Lance Sheldon. And now you come here to Paris to ask me for what?

The truth. But you have come to precisely the wrong person. Ask anyone and he will tell you that Paul Dubois is a tremendous liar. The truth is not in you. Please, this is important to me. Don't play the clown. You see, I know better.

Don has spoken to me about you many times. Don is a fine man. Has he not told you what you want to know about Lance? He can't, because he doesn't know. Not know, but Don and Lance were in the same outfit. They went through training together. Surely, Don would know what a magnificent officer Lance was and how he's made... I don't need Don, nor you, to sing Lance's praises to me.

After all, I was his wife for six months. Six beautiful months. What I want to know is who betrayed him. Why now, madame? After all these years? I want justice. I want the man who delivered him to the Nazis punished. I want to make him suffer just as Lance must have suffered before he died. Your husband sent you? No, he asked me not to come. Why do you think...

He would make such a request. He's been telling me for years, let sleeping dogs lie. Don't reopen old wounds. But that's not his real reason. No? What do you think it is? Jealousy. I suppose we both know I'd never have married Don if Lance lived. And I think he wants me to forget. And you think he's wrong? No, I think he's right.

But what he doesn't understand is that I can forget much more quickly and easily... if I could once be sure that the man who betrayed Lance had gotten what he deserved. Ah. Do any of us ever get what we deserve? Monsieur Dubois, I didn't come more than 3,000 miles to answer philosophical questions. I understand, madame.

You came for revenge. I should think you'd be even more anxious than I to see the man who betrayed you punished. Madame, if I were to tell you... Excuse me. That man there, at the door, it's Father Wilming. Huh? Nonsense. What would he be doing here? I tell you, it is. Yeah, well, sit here a moment. I've known Alex much longer than you. I'll see if it is he. He's not wearing his collar. He just went out the door. I'll be back immediately.

Well, what did he say? Where is he? Well, I imagine where he should be, at his parish. You're telling me that I didn't see Father Wilmer? Madame, I searched the corridor and the lobby. Alex was not there. Why are you lying to me? I'm sure I saw him. Please forget what you think you saw. You want to know why Les Insurgents should not be as anxious as you to see the betrayer punished. Remember? Yes. Well...

The answer is very simple. Now, if I were to furnish you with a statement signed by our surviving members... ...swearing to their knowledge of the name of the betrayer, would that satisfy you? Would the statement include the name? No. Why not? Because it would serve no purpose. That's the only reason I'm here. Madame, Paris was a very different city under the occupation. A very different world.

Values were different then. Not mine. Have you ever turned up a stone and suddenly what was beautiful and verdant is ugly and venomous and the peaceful countryside changes completely? You are telling me that...

What I may find out is ugly and venomous... and therefore should be kept a secret. I am saying more than that, Madame Peterson. I am asking you to take the statement we are willing to give you... and return home. Heed my warning while there is still time. If you persist in this search... there is danger for you. You're threatening me. No, no, no, no. I am simply warning you that your search will inevitably...

...lead you to some who held life very cheaply in those days. And they may easily revert to that old savage philosophy. I cannot be responsible for what may happen. The Bible says, and the truth shall set you free. But it doesn't say at what cost.

Some people aren't willing to pay the price, but Florence Peterson seems willing to risk her life in order to find and punish the man who betrayed her husband. I'll be back shortly with Act Two. We've all heard perhaps too much about anti-American feeling all over the world, and some travelers return with stories about the coldness of the French to American visitors.

Most Americans still find Paris a beautiful and friendly city to visit. But the reception given to Florence Peterson is really something else. Not only do the people she is seeing say, in effect, Yankee, go home, but they are seemingly willing to force her to get out of France. Monsieur Dubois.

Are you responsible for this note that was slipped under my door a few minutes ago? Who is it? Florence Peterson.

I'm calling to tell you that I don't appreciate what you've done. I react very badly to threats. Well, slowly, madame, if you please. I don't know what you're talking about. I'll read it to you. Madame, forget what you have come here for. If you are wise and concerned for your safety and sanity, you will be on a flight out of here tonight. Be wise and go. Signed, a friend of Les Insurgents. Madame, I know nothing about this.

But if you will recall, I said it was dangerous for you to stay. That's why I telephoned you. As a member of Les Insurgents, I felt that you could possibly... I think we should meet. Only if you'll agree to help me. I know you can if you want to. Let me say that I will not be antagonistic. And you won't tell me to go home? That must be your decision. Let us say the Café de la Paix at Flore this afternoon. The Café de la Paix

Oh, Mr. Craig, do come in. Thank you, Mrs. Peterson, for seeing me. Oh, my credentials to show that I'm attached to the consul here in Paris. I checked right after you phoned. That was wise. I can't imagine why you wanted to see me.

Well, about your, shall we say, mission here in Paris. And how did you hear about it, Mr. Craig? Well, that doesn't have any bearing on my reason for being here, Mrs. Peterson. You've opened a can of worms. I thought so. I'm happy to hear you confirm it. Don't jump to conclusions. We're not happy about what you're trying to do.

What? Well, now, please, I'd like you to try to understand. I'll try. The information you seek will only, well, stir up a lot of trouble and cause repercussions that far outweigh any personal motives that you may have. Mr. Craig, why should you be here to keep me quiet? Well, I assure you, Mrs. Peterson... What is it? Why are so many people anxious for me not to know the identity of a traitor?

Well, that's one way of looking at it. Is there any other way? Mrs. Peterson, whether you like it or not, the world has moved on. Some of the heroes of the resistance, and particularly Les Insurgents, have become important figures. What you're trying to tell me in your special diplomatic fashion is that the man who betrayed my husband is now an important figure and must be protected. No, I never said that. You've misunderstood completely. No, I don't think so.

Mr. Craig, I don't care what happens as long as I can find the man who was responsible for my husband's death. Ah, madame.

You see, this time it is I who wait for you. Please sit down. Thank you, Mr. Dubois. Does this mean you are willing to help me? Of course. The more I thought about your obvious love for young Sheldon, the more I sympathized. At first, I was thinking too much of Les Insurgents and your present husband. What do you mean?

You told me that Don Peterson, who I also know, asked you not to undertake this. And you did, anyway. Then, indeed, it is apparent how much your first marriage meant to you. Yes, what you say is true. I can tell you, a stranger, that I loved Lance as I never could love Don. Oh, it's not that Don isn't... It's just that I...

Remember Lance's sunlight and laughter and Don is... Mr. Dubois, I respect Don. He's been good to me. Of course, you know how we met. No. He was chosen to tell me of Lance's death. I remember asking him at the time whether Lance's betrayer had been punished and I think he said something to the effect that it had been done. I really don't remember. He was very kind, gentle. Yes. Maybe I haven't

been the wife to him that I should be. But I do try, honestly try. But Lance is there somewhere in the back of my head. And also in your heart. Yes, I suppose so. But I really believe that if I can satisfy myself that justice has been done, then maybe it isn't too late for me to make it up to Don. And that is why I am here. I am prepared to help.

Then you'll give me the name. That's not for me to decide. I must obtain permission from my comrades. If you will wait until I make a phone call, I may have some news for you. Yes? Poirot Dubois here. You have spoken with her? I can only apologize. The identity of the man who gave Lanshild in a way has become an idée fixe with her.

I don't believe that there's any way in which she can be dissuaded. I disagree. You must be protected at all costs. That is our prime objective. I suggest elimination. Absolutely not. You have not met the woman. I have. She will not rest. There is no reason for her to be removed. And I forbid it. There must be another way. Can you think of one, sir?

She started with him. She may have a reason to mistrust him. He is still a priest. Perhaps we can get him to help you put kind of a charade. Satisfy her and still conceal the truth. Everyone would be happy. That was a long call. Can you tell me the name? Not at the moment, madame, but I am hopeful. Of what? Of getting permission from those who have yet to be contacted. And how long will that take? Oh, a day or two at the most.

Meanwhile, you enjoy the beautiful sights of Paris. And I promise to contact you.

Alex, a course of action has been suggested. One in which you can be of help. And that is? To give her an answer, to make her believe that her search has been successful. Can it be done? I think, with your help. And what would that consist of, Paul? Well, let's say a theatrical presentation.

A recital of how angry we were when we discovered that we'd been betrayed. And how frightened, if we must be truthful. That, too. And then we discovered the traitor and we eliminated him. Lance Sheldon's death had been avenged by the death of the man who betrayed him. And Madam Peterson is happy. Hmm. Do we have a name for the traitor, Paul? Any name will do. Any name in your graveyard. No. No.

But it's foolproof, Alex. We'll tell her what she already half believes, that you couldn't give her the information before. You had to get permission from all the members of the group. I cannot use the church to buttress a lie. I will not be a party to it, Paul. The church doesn't enter into it. We are using Alex Vilmi, a former member of Les Insurgents, to protect our reputation. Alex Vilmi could have done it. Father Vilmi cannot and will not.

Think of the peace that you will bring to this poor tortured woman. I have spent time with her. She's sincere. She really must have this information. And you...

Think of the poor soul lying in his grave. The soul who never committed a murder and whom I, a priest, now name as a killer. No. No, Paul. You cannot ask this of me. I do. In the name of Les Anseurs, Jean. In the name of every one of us who fought alongside you, Alex, and who died protecting you and me. I do ask it. And I refuse. In the name of the Lord. The End

Mr. Craig, if you've come here again to tell me to leave Paris, you're just wasting... I would be just wasting my time. I know that, Mrs. Pearson. And as I told you over the phone, that's not my purpose. But surely you're not here to help me. Well, that's exactly why I am here. There's been a good deal of time spent at the consulate about you and your search...

We're deeply concerned about your safety. Please. We do have a responsibility for your welfare. We must keep an eye on you here in Paris. But we ask you a favor. To give us your word that if you leave the city, you'll let us know immediately. And also tell us your destination. Why should I do that? For your own sake. It isn't too much to ask. All right. I don't see what harm that can do. Hello? Hello?

I have good news for you. Tomorrow, you shall have the answer you seek. You will be downstairs in front of the hotel at exactly 10 o'clock in the morning because we have to drive out of Paris. Where are we going? I cannot tell you, but what does it matter? I promise that when we are finished, there will be no more questions in your mind. Oh, that's wonderful. Oh, but...

Oh, I feel like such a fool. I've made a commitment. I thought you were committed, madame, to finding the name of the man. Oh, I am, I am. I'll go with you, but I... I mean, I promised to inform the American consulate if I left Paris to tell them where I'm going. Out of the question. But I... I gave Mr. Craig my word. Ah, it is regrettable. I wish you a good day. No, no, no. Don't hang up. Why can't you let me tell the consulate? What harm could there be in that? Madame,

You have never understood us or our motives. You have looked only at yourself. I thought by now you would have realized how jealous Les Insurgents are of their place in history, of our reputation. Because I pleaded to your cause, and because the answer you seek concerns me personally, permission has been given to tell you the whole story. But it must stop there.

No, my next. I thought I could trust you, but... No, no, all right. I'll be downstairs at 10 o'clock, and I'll go with you, and I won't tell a soul. I give you my word. Fools rush in, of course. But as a matter of fact...

Florence Peterson is neither a fool nor an angel, just a haunted woman driven by a need to know the answer to a question that has nagged at her and almost destroyed her life. We'll be back with the answer she receives in just a few moments. At some point in our lives, I'm sure all of us have felt that we were out of place.

But I wonder how many of us have ever experienced the feeling of being out of time. That is to say, that your presence in that particular place was either too early or too late. That was exactly the feeling that Florence Peterson was experiencing as she sat beside Paul Dubois and felt him slow the pace of the speeding car. We are almost there, madame. Columbe, ladies, please.

Isn't this the town where General de Gaulle lived? And he's buried, madame. As are some of his officers and brave men of the resistance. Right here, in this cemetery. If you please, madame. Thank you. Are you all right? Yes, I think so. I...

I just feel frightened. Symmetries affect some people that way. A reminder of our mortality. I'm all right now. Good. Here, we step off the path here. My family plot is just over there. You're showing me a grave? Yes, madame. A tombstone. And on that tombstone will be the name you seek. Thank you.

But I thought you said this was your family. The end of your search. René Dubois, born 1921, died 1944. My brother, madame. My brother was the traitor. Oh, no. Oh, I'm sorry. No, you are not. He was too young. I blame myself, but it was difficult. We had always been close, and we...

We made a mistake. I told him about Les Insurgents... and asked him if he wanted to join us. I knew, of course, what the answer would be. But I did not know that within two weeks... he would be caught. It was too soon. I understand. You don't have to say any more. You must hear the whole story...

We knew René had been captured... but he rejoined us... a week later... with only a few... superficial bruises... and a story that he deceived... the Gestapo into thinking him an innocent. I wanted to believe him. I think it was only because he was my brother... that the other officers allowed themselves... also to be deluded, but... But it was possible, wasn't it? Hardly, madame...

We had seen too many prisoners who had been interrogated by the Gestapo. And then, little things began to go wrong. Our plan seemed foredoomed a failure. And we knew. But still, no one said anything to me until... until your husband was captured. Then, we knew action had to be taken. He was my brother, madame. And...

I executed him. Your husband and Les Insurgents were avenged. But an oath was taken, madame. An oath not to reveal this to anyone. It was something that was finished and forgotten. I promise to forget. I will never breathe a word of this to a living soul. I understand so much now.

The reason for your actions and Father Villeneuve... Monsieur Dubois! Monsieur Dubois! I neglected to ask you when you ordered the gravestone I put in your plot yesterday whether you desired the bill to be sent to your home or your office. I can understand your anger, madame. You are beneath contempt. I warned you, madame. I told you I was a liar. Not to be trusted. A liar? What you've done to me is inhuman.

What a fool I've been. You knew when you went through that utterly contrived story about your brother. I cried. Madame, I beg you to consider. Your pride has been hurt. Nothing more. Oh, shut up. Very well. I shall resign myself to a long, silent drive back to Paris. Good. Good.

You can think of other ways in which to try and stop me while I try to find the truth. Because I want it now more than ever. Madame, I repeat the only word of truth I have spoken to you. For your own good, go home. Hello? Dear boy...

Well, I trust you have good news and everything went well. A disaster. The stonemason asked where he should send the bill just after I'd convinced her. I shall never forgive myself for not paying him at the time it was... Bad luck. As it would seem, we have almost exhausted our resources. I don't see what else we can do short of... Well, you will have to forget about her, obviously...

I still have one avenue open to me. I cannot think of a single possibility. The truth. Well, aside from the risk you run, I don't think that at this point she would believe it. Oh, hello. Don. Oh, I'm so glad you're home. I know it's terribly expensive to call, but I must talk to you. I've missed you. I've missed you, too.

Honestly, more than I thought I would. I need you, Don. Oh? What is it? Something new has come up. What is it? I have to go to Munich. Why? Why don't you take what is good advice and come on home? Oh, Don, please. Not you. Just let me read you this note I received. Go ahead.

Madame, if you want the answer you have been seeking so avidly, go to Munich. You will find a Heinrich Rothman listed in the telephone directory. Call him. Identify yourself as having been sent from Paris by the Fox. Thirty some odd years ago, he was Colonel Rothman, head of the SS forces in Paris. He has the answer you seek. Don, you hear me?

Well, what should I do? All I can say is that there was a Colonel Rotman. And if I were you, I'd call Munich before I leave Paris. If you reach him, tell him you're coming. And don't tell him...

Ah, Frau Petersen, come in, come in. I fear the room is too warm, but in the remainder of my life, I seek warmth. How do you come to know the Fox? My husband served with the resistance in France. You said your name is Petersen. Your husband was not French? My husband's name was Lance Sheldon, Captain Sheldon.

And I want to know the name of the man who betrayed him. It's someone important, someone so important that no one will tell me. Frau Petersen, are you sure you want this information? I've come a long way to get it, Colonel Rothman. The name of the traitor was Sheldon, Captain Lance Sheldon of the United States Army. What? What are you saying?

Your first husband, Frau Petersen, was the man who betrayed Les Insurgents. I don't believe you. Well, believe what you want. You came to me for an answer, I give it to you. A French farmer who had been cooperating with us saw your husband's parachute descent one night. He reported it to us and we picked up Captain Sheldon. No.

If you do not wish me to continue, I will stop. We will talk about other things. This can't be true. Lance would never... Captain Sheldon quickly saw the strength of our position and the weakness of his. Particularly after we introduced him to some prisoners we had interrogated. So he quickly agreed to work for us.

He did fairly well, but did not, as I had hoped, get us the identity of the fox. Although it is of no importance to me today, I believe the fox executed Sheldon when they discovered he was our link to them. And if that is so, then there would be good reason not to tell you, no? It just can't be.

This is another of their tricks. It's just another attempt to keep me from the truth. I won't fall for it. I won't allow them or you to blacken the name of my husband. Break my heart? Oh? You would perhaps like to see some photographs I have kept over the years? No, they don't interest me. Of course not. You're just another fool who does not want the truth. Who wants to believe only what she... Day, Frau Pettersen. No, no.

Wait. You do have some pictures. Be patient. When I wheel myself over to the desk, I will show you. Here. Wait. There is it. You see, Frau Pedersen, when we enlisted the spy, we tried to make sure that he would not betray us. And so we took pictures like these. Careful. Careful.

They are fragile after all these years. But, you see, they clearly show Captain Sheldon in uniform. Shall we say fraternizing with me and some other members of the SS. There is your husband. There is your hero. Now... What a fool. She's fainted. No!

Florence! Florence! Over here, this way! Don! How did you know I'd be on that... Dubois cabled me that you'd be on this flight. Well, that was nice of him. Of course. Well, now you know. Yes, I know. Don, I can't face you. All these years. These long, wasted, bitter years. And you must have known, and you couldn't tell me. Oh, I can't ever...

How can I make them up to you? No need. Remember Browning's poem? Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be. For you, Florence. And for us. The End

Most of us treasure our illusions. Indeed, some very great writers, Eugene O'Neill being one of them, felt strongly that once stripped of them, we wouldn't find life worth living.

But there must be exceptions to every rule, and particularly one would feel when the bitter loss of illusions can also give you a reason for living. And Don Peterson had just given his wife the best reason in the world, love. I'll be back shortly. ♪♪

The cynical among us never tire of pointing out how horrible life is. English poet A.E. Hausman wrote that the two traits of man are to stand up and walk the treadmill or to lie flat, know nothing, and be still. He sums it all up by saying, which is worse I know not, but I know that both are ill.

I can think of a number of things that make life worth living. Things like work and love and storytelling. Our cast included Marion Sotis, Court Benson, Guy Sorrell, and Robert Maxwell. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by Allied Van Lines, Allstate Insurance Companies, and True Value Hardware Stores.

This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams. ♪♪

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Strange Wills. Stories of strange wills made by strange people. Starring the distinguished Hollywood actor Warren William. And featuring Perry Ward, Lorene Tuttle, and an all-star Hollywood cast with the original music of Del Castillo. Strange Wills.

I devise and bequeath to my heirs the seven deadly sins. Envy, pride, hate, jealousy, despair, greed, and anger. And here is Warren William. These are the stories of strange wills made under the strangest of circumstances and very often by exceedingly strange people.

Human emotions run rampant through the pages of their last written declarations, as though knowing that the Grim Reaper is waiting patiently at their sides. They, in a final outburst, fling the challenge of death into the face of uncertain destiny. You'll see what I mean a little later, but first, a few words from your announcer.

The End

And now back to Warren William as John Francis O'Connell in The Lady and the Pirate.

It has been my good fortune to come from an illustrious line of lawyers. My inherited legal birthright dates back to the year 1724, when my ancestor and namesake, John Francis O'Connell, left England under the king's command to become the legal counselor to the governor of the Carolinas. But he had another mission, a secret one. He was sent to the Carolinas...

to personally direct in the capture and hanging of the notorious pirate and renegade Englishman Black Richard Templeton, whose ship, the Elizabeth, cast a shadow of death and doom across the trade lanes in Caribbean waters. How Black Richard finally died is of no relative importance, but his will, written under the most peculiar of circumstances, remains as one of the most unique ever to be filed in probate.

Let us now turn back the pages of history to a May evening in the year 1724. His gracious majesty's ship, the Royal Vengeance, bound for the Carolinas and the New World, is moving slowly down the channel toward the open sea. Only three passengers are aboard. The charming and beautiful Lady Ruth Carroll, whose husband died while fighting in his majesty's service against France. Her personal maid, Cecile, and I.

John Francis O'Connell, barrister and personal representative of the king. The lady Carol and her maid are leaning against the rail as they watch the slow progress of the ship as it passes the shadowy docks and buildings that line the waterfront. Weeks and months ahead lies the new world. Uncertainty, adventure, but we Britishers are an adventurous race.

Well, Cecile, we're off at last on our great adventure. I wonder, milady, if we'll ever see our beloved England again. I hope that divine providence will help us reach your uncle's plantation safely. Divine providence and our fearless ship, Cecile. Are you still afraid, little chipmunk?

Haven't I told you the Royal Vengeance crowds more sail, carries more guns, and is manned by the bravest crew in all England? Yes, milady Ruth, but... But what, Cecile? I know all that to be true, but I worry nonetheless.

I've heard tales, tales from seafaring men. I've heard them tell of... Oh, but I shouldn't frighten you, lady. Oh, frighten me? Goodness, Cecile, nothing ever frightens me. Go on. I've heard them tell of, well, about that pirate, Black Richard, they call him. And if their stories are true, his deeds are blacker than his name. He sounds exciting, Cecile.

Oh, how I would love to cross the path of this Black Richard. Me like it. I mean every word I say. I'm not afraid of any man. To show this lout up in his stupidity would be my greatest delight. Ah, but if he sees you. If Black Richard should ever see you. Well, let him. He'll see how high an English girl can toss her chin.

He'll see that I'm no scullery maid to be trifled with. Oh, me lady, I'm afraid he'll see more than that. What do you mean? He'll see two red lips bursting with ripeness. He'll see blue eyes as soft as a summer cloud and a figure that was the toast of London. And seeing, what do you think he will do, Cecile? I'd rather not say, me lady.

A good ship, the Royal Vengeance, sailed on toward the New World. The weather was brisk. The wind filled every ounce of sail she carried. In less than six weeks, she'd put in at the Canaries for supplies and then sailed on. Would the crossing be made without misadventure? Without sighting Black Richard?

It was inevitable that Lady Ruth, Carol and I should become good friends. It was inevitable, too, that we should discuss what was on everyone's tongue and mind. Black Richard, late one evening at dinner. If what you say is true, Mr. O'Connell, you've good reason to be practicing with the cutlass. My heavens, he'll make a swordsman of you yet. And that he has, milady. Most of my waking hours have been devoted to the deadly art of the cutlass. And I must confess...

I've even practiced in my sleep. Just let me see Black Richard, and I promise you, milady, he'll be carrying fit for the buzzard. In spite of all your horrible stories about making the men walk the plank and taking the women to his lonely isle near Nassau, I'm still not the least bit afraid. Brave girl. And you've really no reason to be.

The Royal Vengeance carries 60 guns, and each gun crew has been trained by the Royal Navy. Our gallant Captain Hughes is considered the bravest, most fearless master on the high seas. No, this Black Richard won't tackle us this crossing. Oh, fiddlesticks, I'm disappointed. Don't be, milady. Consider yourself fortunate. As our ship drew near the Bahamas, the first ill omen appeared.

The barometer fell rapidly. The Royal Vengeance was running head-on into a storm, and the wind reaching hurricane velocity was driving us nearer and nearer to the lair of Black Richard. Captain Hughes was prepared for the storm. Optimate, topmaster! Hurry! Keep your eyes open for strange ships! Aye, aye, sir! Batten down the hatches! Gun clues on the alert!

We can't be caught napping. Mr. O'Connell! Mr. O'Connell! Aye, Captain. You'll take the ladies below for their personal safety and yours. We're going to have dirty weather. My lady, Cecile, you heard we're ordered below. Oh, isn't this storm wonderful? Look at the waves. Oh, sheer mountains. And the wind, how it howls. Like the very devil, if you ask me. Just think, Mr. O'Connell. Somewhere out there in the same storm.

It's Black Richard.

I wonder what he's doing. More than likely heading straight for port. I doubt if he enjoys this any more than we do. I heard a sailor say that this is Black Richard's weather. That when the storm is at its worst, he ties himself to the topmost weir, spyglass, and he looks for ships. And then he follows them in the storm. That's utter nonsense. No man in his right mind. We'd better go below before the captain puts us in chains. Well, at least in the cabin we won't be able to hear the wind. Hold on the rope, Cecile, and you too, milady, or you'll likely be blown right off the ship.

That's right. Easy now. There we are. Now, down the steps. Rest if you can, Lady Ruth. I'll go on deck. If anything unusual happens, rest assured, I'll come back and tell you. The only thing unusual that's going to happen is that I'm getting a funny feeling in my stomach. Oh, why did I ever leave England? I'll never know. I'll never know. Oh, forgive me, my lady. Mr. O'Connell, but...

I think I'm going to die. All that night the storm raged on in unabated fury. The passengers and crew, with few exceptions, became violently ill. Sleep was out of the question. It became a matter of personal survival against the elements. No!

With the first leaden signs of dawn, the wind abated. I staggered out of my cabin and walked up to the deck. Just as I reached it, I heard a cry from the direction of the topmost. The sea is a starboard! Man the guns! Clear the deck! Describe the ship! I can't see it clear, sir. The sea is so eerie. She looks like a frigate. She carries about 40 guns and she

She's flying the Union Jack. Lieutenant, send a shot across the bow. Harold, stop her until we can send over a boarding party to examine her papers. She's coming on under full sail. Wait, sir. She's lowering her flag. It's coming down. She's sending up another. I catch it. Yes. Yes, it's the Johnny Roger. The skull and the crossbones. The pirate ship, the Elizabeth. The pirate ship, Elizabeth. The Elizabeth.

On board, things were in bad shape. The men weakened from the storm were in no condition to repel a serious attack. On and on came Black Richard's ship, and then, when we were in cannon range... All hands on deck to repel the attack! Stand by for action! Chop away the broken mast and fill the debris! Gun clues! Break a fallen aft! Be alive there!

Mr. O'Connell, you'll go below and assist Lady Carol and her mate. To escape should be found or be taken. But, Captain... That's an order, Mr. O'Connell. Aye, sir. And God save the royal vengeance. Yes, Mr. O'Connell. God save the royal vengeance.

Even as I went below deck with Lady Ruth and Cecile, I was formulating a plan of action. I had been sent to the Carolinas under the King's command to assist in the capture and hanging of Black Richard the pirate, and I would do just that no matter what the captain ordered. But first, I must allow for the safety of Lady Ruth and Cecile. Oh, Mr. O'Connell, Lady Ruth, listen. Are you the sound of cutlasses? The pirates have boarded the ship. Mr. O'Connell, I'm afraid...

Mr. O'Connell, I'm so afraid. Quiet, Cecilia. Now listen carefully, both of you. I want you to do exactly as I say or your life may be forfeited. Lady Ruth, get into a serving gown immediately. But... There's no time for buts. If you are taken prisoner, tell them that you are both scullery maids sailing in bondage to the colonies. All of your fineries, everything, must be cast into the sea. Not a trace...

I knew I never should have left London. Just think Black Richard will capture us and carry us off to his highland. We'll all be slaves to those filthy pirates. I'm going back on deck to engage Black Richard. I'll try to come back if matters worsen, but heed me...

If you hear the sound of battle turning against us, you are to jump out of your window into the sea. That's an order. Tell the great barrister we'd have us cast ourselves into the sea. Death before dishonor and all that belly rot. I say, give me a cutlass. I'll fight you. You'll do as you... as I say, young lady. But I can't.

Quiet, both of you. As you can see, the water is covered with debris from the battle. If necessary, hang on to anything within reach. And trust to God's providence. On deck, matters were serious. The pirates, led by that merciless creature, Black Richard, were driving the king's men backwards steadily.

I looked for Black Richard, but in the heat of the battle, I could not find him. However, I soon found myself engaged in a furious combat with one of his cutthroats. Well, blow me down if I ain't found me a dandy. Lace, frills, and silver buckles. There for all the frills.

You found a man who'll soon carve the heart out of your worthless carcass. Listen to them pretty words. Why, you fancy pants, I'll slice your gizzard to ribbons. To that I take oath. There, there, you friggin'. Taste the king's steel. Roll him in. Roll him round the king's stand.

Part 2 of Strange Wills follows in just a moment. Strange Wills

The End

¶¶

And now, back to The Lady and the Pirate and Warren William. The battle raged on. I saw our gallant captain fall, slashed by a dozen cutlasses. And then, through the melee, I saw the man I'd sworn to capture and hang. There he was, Black Richard, brandishing his heavy cutlass now red with blood. And then, through the melee, I saw the man I'd sworn to capture and hang.

I challenge him. Black Richard Templeton, surrender in the name of the king. You ask Black Richard to surrender? Look around you, lad. You've not a handful left alive. As long as I'm alive, I intend to run you through. Why, you young pipsqueak, I'll slice the ears off your curly black head. That I promised by the beer of Beelzebub. Your faith is not so haughty now, Black Richard. Your eyes are blinded by your foul blood. I got him.

I got him, Black Richard. Crashed him right into the sea with a belaying pin I did. Oh, Captain, your face is basted in a bit. Here, Captain, sit down when I finish off the rest of this hive-born scum. It'll only take a blooming minute.

My unexpected fall into the water revived me almost immediately. Looking up at the ship, I saw that I had fallen close alongside Lady Ruth's cabin. Cecile was at the window, looking frantically down at me. Hurry, Mr. O'Connell, hurry! The pirates have come below! Go first, Cecile. Hurry, Shipmunk, I'll get my jewels. Open up in there! Open up or I'll carve the heart out of your body! Here I come, Mr. O'Connell! All right, Cecile, quickly now! Ruth! Ruth, where are you?

Hurry! Well, shiver my timbers. Look what I captured. Cecile and I, clinging to our spar, watched the royal vengeance break out in angry flames and then, like a tired warrior, slowly sink into a foaming sea. In the far distance, we could see the pirate ship Elizabeth settle slowly by the bow. It had been a death struggle.

But fate was kind. The very next morning, a British man o' war sighted us adrift and saved our lives. Eventually, Cecile and I reached the Carolinas. But the weeks passed, and nothing more was heard about the gallant crew and the royal vengeance, or from Lady Ruth. Strangely, too, nothing more was heard from Black Richard. He had disappeared just as mysteriously as the rest. What had happened? I was sitting in my chambers one afternoon, almost two years later...

There's a lady to see you, sir. She says you will recollect. Her name is Carol. Lady Ruth Carol. Lady Ruth Carol? I can't believe it. You. You, Lady Ruth. Your obedient servant, sir. May I enter? By all means. But you must be a ghost. I simply can't believe that you're alive. Here, here, sit down. Thank you. I had great adventure, Mr. O'Connell. I've lived and I've learned.

I'm not the same girl you once knew. That night, Lady Ruth and I had a quiet supper. I didn't want to seem impatient, but inwardly I was seething with unanswered questions. And then... I know you want to hear about the rest of the story, Mr. O'Connell. As you know, the door of my cabin was broken down just as Cecile escaped through the window. As the door crashed, I turned and looked at my... my captor.

He grabbed me around the waist and carried me on deck to where the pirate captain, Black Richard, was lying, with his head and eyes swathed in a bloody bandage. I stood alongside Black Richard and I looked down at him. As soon as he spoke, I knew he was no ordinary pirate. I'm sorry I can't receive you more appropriately, lass, but as you see, I... I see that you are sorely wounded, sire. Who are you, lass? I...

I'm a scullery maid in bondage to the colonies. A scullery maid? You think me a fool? You do not believe me? Once, long, long ago, I knew ladies such as you. You're highborn. Who are you? Come, come, out with it. I'm only an English girl, proud of her heritage and her race. Well said. Well spoken. That is my misfortune I can't see you. Not for the present, at least. Then please don't try. I'm nothing much, I assure you.

Come now, I will change your bandages, and then we must leave this ship. Your cannon have set it afire. Morris! Morris, the fast air! Aye, Captain. I be here. Are all off? All off, sir. All but us three. I have the boat waiting. But hurry, Captain. The fighter is gaining. Now then, lass, we'll attend to my hurts. If you will pardon the use of my petticoats for bandages. No man was ever luckier.

First now, I'll take the bandage from your eyes. Here it comes. Why the gasp? Is the sight of blood frightening you? Oh, no. Oh, no, it isn't that. It... It is an ugly wound, I know. Not one for fair eyes like yours. It's not the wound, my... Oh, Sire, forgive me. You must be in pain. The pains of the flesh are small. Much worse, I know that my fighting days are over. I know that...

But I am blind. Is it not true, lass? Yes, sir, it is true. You are blind. The three of us set out in the small boat. By that time, the Elizabeth had sunk beneath the waves. During the night, we suffered our first casualty. Morris, the pirate who accompanied us, was washed into the sea. Finally, after I'd given up all hope, I sighted land. It turned out to be a small, uninhabited island. Our landing through the heavy surf was miraculous.

Black Richard was greatly weakened through the loss of blood. I half carried, half dragged him up to the beach. He spoke to me weakly. So this is the finish for Black Richard, Scourge of Britain. Tis well. It's only right that you know that for ten years I've been at war with my own beloved land, my own British Isle. I built a free country in the wilderness, one where there's no servitude, no bondage.

But now, for me, it's over. Yes, over but for one last task. Thus, in England I was once a rich man. My fortune is still there. I'm alone, having neither wife nor child. Only a sister, God bless her memory, but she's wealthy in her own right. I need someone to bring the money back, back here to my new country. If I die without a will, it will revert to the crown.

Lass, if you could see the smiling faces of the people who live free of bondage. There's nothing I would rather see, Richard. And you shall too. Because I'll tell you where my free land lies. But first, I must draw a will. You shall be the beneficiary. And I have your solemn word that the money will be turned over to my free colony. My solemn word, sire. I have naught but my dagger. Help me to my knees, child. Yes, sire. I'm up.

Now, lass, in the name of a free people, bear your back. I'm taking my dress off. I shall hurt your child mightily. I shall try not to scream. Hand me my dagger. Here, sire. Ready? Ready, sire. No! Black Richard died the next day. I buried him and marked his grave. A short while later, a passing ship rescued me.

It was bound for free land, Black Richard's home. What I saw there confirmed everything he told me. Mr. O'Connell, I'm going back to England to bring back Black Richard's fortune back to those people. And I shall join them in their new way of life. But Lady Ruth, Black Richard has no standing before the British courts. Even if he had a fortune, if it became known, it would be confiscated by the Crown. Black Richard Templeton was a fictitious name, Mr. O'Connell. There is another name, a real name that he once bore honorably.

No one shall know that there was any relationship between the two. Only you and I. But Lady Ruth, I am the King's counsellor. I have sworn allegiance to his majesty. But first I shall take you to visit the people of Freeland. And then you can make your own decision. My ultimate decision was clearly defined when I accompanied Lady Ruth Carroll back to London in order to help her in proving the last will and testament of Black Richard. We were summoned before the House of Peers. I presented her case.

My lords, because of the mitigating circumstances which will be known to you, the last will and testament of the deceased can never be actually filed. But I have brought the sole beneficiary before this august body in order that each of you can personally examine the document. Lady Ruth Carroll, I ask you now to disrobe before the House of Peers. Oh, believe me, my lords, I do not show disrespect to either Lady Ruth Carroll or to you.

Rest assured that only her back will be exposed. Are you ready, milady? Yes, Mr. O'Connell. Will you please walk up to the lords, milady, and let them examine your back? And with your permission, milords, I shall read the words tattooed across her back. All to bearer.

Signed, Sir George Pemberton, 1724. Many of you remember Sir George Pemberton. He sailed for the colonies ten years ago. Little was heard of him since, save only that he purchased an island in the Bahamas. But by fate or providence, as you will, Sir George Pemberton lived long enough to carve his last will and testament on the back of his own sister. ♪

Warren William will be back in just a moment to tell you what the official records say about the case of the lady and the pirate. But first, here is a brief message from your announcer. ♪♪

And now, back to Warren William. In the last pages of his diary about this famous case, John Francis O'Connell says...

By special decree, a copy of the last will and testament of Sir George Pemberton was permitted to be filed instead of the original. The reason, of course, was apparent. The diary continues. All of the monies of Sir Pemberton's estate were turned over to the beneficiary, and about six months later, Lady Carol and I returned to free land forever. And here the diary ends.

Was the black anger that Sir Pemberton bore against tyranny and oppression a deadly sin? It might have been. But there are those who think that this personal love of freedom and equality greatly outweighed the apparent injustices made during his life as a pirate. For who in this case can draw the line between pirate and liberator? I can't. Can you? THE END

Next week, my story is about a man who, in his last will and testament, bequeathed the one and only thing he held most dear in life to, of all people, his competitor. It was not money nor jewels, but much more important, the girl he loved and hoped to marry. Fortunately for all concerned, this will was never filed for probate. But you'll hear a story as beautiful, as poignant, and as realistic as any ever heard before.

We call this unusual story The Prince of Broadway. This is Warren William inviting you to listen again next week. Strange Wills is written by Ken Kropene and directed by Albert Ulrich. This is a Tellaways feature produced in Hollywood.

Now there's a new way to share weird darkness with the weirdos in your life. It's a skill on your Amazon Echo device.

Just say, play Weird Darkness, and you'll immediately start hearing the newest episode. With your Amazon Echo or smart device, you can let me keep you company all day and all night. And it's easy to tell your friends how to tune in, too. Just tell your Amazon device, play Weird Darkness, to start listening.

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Now sliced. Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com. Hold the kaleidoscope to your eye. Peer inside. One twist changes everything. A woman awakens in a grotesque, human-sized arcade game.

A mysterious cigar box purchased at a farmer's market releases an ancient jinn who demands a replacement prisoner. An elderly woman possesses the terrifying power to inflict pain through handmade dolls. An exclusive restaurant's sinister secret menu includes murder-for-hire and harvested organs.

With each turn through these 20 tales, Reddit NoSleep favorite AP Royal reshapes reality, creating dazzling patterns of horror that entrance as they terrify. The Kaleidoscope, 20 Terrifying Tales of Horror and the Supernatural by AP Royal, narrated by Darren Marlar. Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. Looking

Now sliced. Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com. Suspense. This is the man in black. Here again to introduce Columbia's program, Suspense. Suspense.

In our starring Hollywood cast tonight are Mr. John Sutton, who appears as a young English doctor, Jim Norwood, who knew a great deal more than he admitted concerning the strange events which we are about to relate. And Mr. George Zuko, who plays the village curate, the Reverend Arthur Morley.

Our story, and it bears none but a coincidental resemblance to H.G. Wells' famous short novel, The Invisible Man, is by John Dixon Carr and is called The Man Without a Body, tonight's tale of suspense. If you have been with us on these Tuesday nights, you will know that suspense is compounded of mystery and suspicion and dangerous adventure. In this series are tales calculated to intrigue you.

And so it is with a man without a body and the performances of John Sutton and George Zuko. We again hope to keep you in... Suspend! A lonely beach of low white sand hills edged by the surf of the North Sea. And back from the beach, drowsing as it has drowsed for ten centuries, lies the village of Aldbridge in Sutton.

There is the sea wall now defaced by air raid shelters. And there are the rolling grain fields, the thatched white cottages, the spire of St. Luke's Church above the oak trees. Ancient and bell-haunted, lost among hedgerows, this village could never cause consternation in London newspaper offices.

And yet, on that warm night nearly four years ago... This time it's really happened. A man without a body. Completely invisible.

Copy boy. Copy boy. Look at this dispatch. Reign of terror in Suffolk village. Has another of H.G. Wells' romances come true? An invisible man? I can't believe it. What's the matter with that village? Have they all gone scatty? Mr. George Wellman, builder, states that as he was returning home along the main road from Belly Seat, Edmonds... He distinctly saw a man's hat without any head under it.

moving towards him about six feet above the ground. Oh, George must have been full of beer. We can't use this story. Coffee, boys! Even more surprising evidence was given by the Reverend Arthur Morley, vicar of St. Luke's Church. Who? The parson? You don't think he was full of beer? One question above all agitates the village. Who is Professor Ansmith?

Who is this elderly American, said to be an inventor, who has settled at Aldridge and leased a part of the house belonging to the local doctor? Out of some terrifying workshop, to strike like a maniac, where least expected, has there at last emerged... A real invisible man? The Church of St. Luke, Aldridge. On that same Sunday evening,

Evening service is over now, though an echo of bells still lingers. In the vestry at the rear of the church, where white surplices hang like ghosts, the Reverend Arthur Morley sits with his daughter Janice. It is a stone room of painted windows, now many-colored in the sunset. And here is the drowsy summer light turns to dusk. Janice, I don't believe it. I know, Father. I saw it with my own eyes, yet I don't believe it.

You don't think we were dreaming, do you? No, Father. We weren't dreaming. If this goes on, the whole village will be in a frenzy. But what can I do? We could go to Professor Ansmuth and ask him straight out. Ask him whether he's responsible for these... Yes. I wonder, Janice. A man isn't hurting anybody, you know. You couldn't ask for a quieter person or a better neighbor. And yet...

What's that? Father, you are upset. It's only Mr. Emmett coming down from the belfry. Emmett? Oh, yes, of course. Is that you, Mr. Emmett? It's me, all right, sir. And very much in the flesh. Did you think I was the invisible man? Mr. Emmett, I forbid you to mention that subject. Very good, sir. But there's others begging your pardon that do mention it. Oh, yes, yes, forgive me. I spoke too sharply. That's all right, sir. No harm done. No bones broken.

Mind you not that I hold with this talk about invisible men. It ain't natural, I say. It ain't hardly Christian. I'm a greengrocer by trade, and I believe in what I can weigh and feel and... What's the matter, Mr. Emmett? Is anything wrong? Excuse me, sir. And you too, miss.

Do you see anybody in this room, Septas? No. Of course not. Why? Because I could have sworn something brushed past me just now. You're imagining things, Mr. Emmett. Yes, sir. I dare say. There's nobody hidden in the belfry tower, I hope. No, sir. I had a look-see. And what's more, there's not going to be anybody up there once I've locked the door.

Now, let the blighter try and get in. Oh, please, Mr. Emmett. And you too, Father. You're talking about this invisible man as though he actually existed. There's something funny going on, Miss. You can't deny that. No, none of us can deny it. And what's more, sir, it's getting pretty dark in here. And you and Miss Janice better get along to the vicarage while I lock up. No, we can't go just yet, Mr. Emmett. We're expecting Dr. Norwood. Dr. Jim Norwood, sir? What does he say about all this?

You might ask him yourself, Mr. Emmett. I think that's probably him now. Come in. The vestry door is not locked. Hello, Padre. Hello, Janice. I'm sorry I'm late. Hello, Jim. You seem a good deal out of breath. I am out of breath, Janice, because there's blue blazes to pay down in the village. Not more trouble. Yes, I'm afraid so. They're holding a mass meeting at the Coach and Horses, and they're ready to murder Professor Ann Smith.

If this invisible man cuts any more capers, we may see a real old-fashioned lynching in an English village. Now, look here, my boy. This has got to stop. I know that, Padre, but how are we going to stop it? Sit down there, Jim, across the table from me. Yes, sir. First of all, what do you know about this Professor Ansmith? Nothing, sir. Nothing.

Nothing at all. But you rent part of your house to him. Oh, my dear Padre, that house is twice as big as I can possibly manage. I was only too glad to get a tenant. He gave you references, I imagine? Yes, but I didn't bother to check them. He's a quiet old boy. Pays his rent on the dot.

Never does anything except read and go for long walks. Are you quite sure of that, Jim? Her village has war nerves, that's all. With a camouflaged aerodrome in the neighborhood, they're apt to imagine anything. True, perhaps, but... That talk about dynamos humming in the old boy's room and blue lights flashing is rubbish out of a sensational film. They imagine the whole thing. Finally, this crazy story about an invisible man playing the gramophone. Why, that's... It's not a crazy story, Jim. Janice and I saw it happen. You what? What?

Last night, about half past nine, Janice and I were out for a walk in the lane that runs past your house. On the way, we met Willie Kendrick, and he joined us. Well, sir? Listen, Jim. On that side of the house, there's a little square room with two windows and no furniture except a round table and a couple of chairs. Do you know the one we mean? Yes, of course. Professor Ann Smith uses it. What about the room? It wasn't quite blackout time.

The windows were up, the curtains weren't drawn, and the room was brightly lighted. On the table stood an old-fashioned gramophone with a horn and a crank handle. Beside it lay a pair of white cotton gloves, like gardener's gloves. The gramophone was playing away for dear life, but there was nobody in the room. Janice thought that was a bit odd, a gramophone going full tilt with nobody there, and called my attention to it.

Just then the gramophone started to run down. We could hear the record slow and go off key.

As it did so... Well, sir, go on. As it did so, those white gloves got up off the table. Got up off the table? Got up off the table, took hold of the gramophone, and wound it up again. Mr. Ellis, what on earth are you doing? I dropped some candlesticks. Oh, I see. Please pick them up again. Yes, ma'am. Padre, are you serious? Perfectly serious. A pair of gloves without any hands inside them? Yes, sir.

But what did they do exactly? The left-hand glove steadied the gramophone. The right-hand glove wound it up. Then they both hung in the air, beating time to the music.

It should have been funny. I can only assure you it was not funny. What happened then? Oh, Jim, it was horrible. Willie Kendrick let out a yell and ran down the lane between the apple trees... as though the devil were after him. I can't say I blame him. Father and I just stood there and... Stared is the word, my dear. Yes, stared. I can't forget any of it. The three-legged table and the whirling record... and the blue flowers on the wallpaper. But there was nobody there. We could see past the table and under the table and all over the room...

And there was nobody there. Except the man without any body. Confound the man without any body. Father, suppose it is true. As a clergyman, my dear, I prefer to remain agnostic. This thing's a trick. Yes, but how's it done and why? That's the whole point, Jim. What worries me is the effect on our people here. We call ourselves intelligent and yet look at us.

Even Mr. Emmett there. Eh? Eh? What's that about me, sir? A few minutes ago, you thought something brushed past you when you were coming down the stairs from the bell tower. Oh, didn't you? Well, yes, sir. You see what I mean, Jim? But I didn't really think so, sir. Not really. It was imagination, just like the doctor said. Because I searched that tower. I locked the door afterwards. Exactly. But the mere force of suggestion, nothing more, might lead you to believe. Ah!

That's not suggestion, Father. Sir, I'll stay by below. There's nobody in that belfry. Bells can't ring by themselves, old man. There's somebody pulling the rope up there, and we're going to find out who it is. One moment, all of you. What's wrong, Padre? You're as white as a ghost. This blasphemous mockery, it seems, extends even to the church. Very well. You will stay with Janice, my boy. Emmett and I will collar this invisible man. Why can't I go, too? I don't believe in this, but...

I should prefer to have someone with Janice. You're not afraid, Mr. Emmett? If it's alive, sir, I'm not afraid of it. And if it's dead, well, you're not afraid of it. The tower door's open, sir. I'm ready. Don't do it, Father. Don't go. You can't help him, Janice. Sit down here. Take it easy. Jim Norwood, what's wrong with you? Wrong with me? You've got an odd look, too.

And the lights fading. And the surpluses look like ghosts. And in another minute, that bell would drive me mad. Suppose he has got in. Who? The invisible man. Oh, don't talk rot. As there are sounds that the ear cannot hear, so there are colors that the eye cannot see. I read that somewhere. He hasn't hurt anybody yet. But suppose he turns nasty and does hurt somebody. He can't hurt anybody. How do you know? Janice, listen to me.

Take my hand. Oh, but Jim... I want to tell you a few things you won't understand. I don't ask you to understand. I just ask you to remember. Well, what is it? The first is a question. If you were a government official and wanted to find an expert on camouflage, where would you go? An expert on camouflage? Yes. And the second point is this. I studied medicine in Germany. Oh, I know that, but that's not... One night on a bet I hid backstage at the Wintergarten Theater in Berlin. I saw the whole show from backstage and...

And I learned a great deal. Jim Norwood, what on earth are you talking about? George Wellman and I have talked the whole thing over. In a way, Janice, there is an invisible man. I can tell you who he is and how he works. But there's no danger, do you understand? There's no danger at all. Jim, what was that? I don't know. You do know. I can see it in your face. You do know.

I think somebody's fallen. Fallen? From the top of the belfry. Stay here, Janice. You can't do any good. Let go of my arm. I'm going up there. No, you're not. I didn't think what the danger might be. Besides, there's somebody coming down the stairs now. Stay just where you are and don't move until... Oh, Father. Father, are you all right? Steady, sir. Take it easy now.

I'm perfectly all right, yes. But you'd better go into the church aisle and see to him, would he? He fell? No, Janice, he did not fall. He was thrown. Thrown? By whom? There's no time to argue now. You're a doctor. Go out and see to him. Well, is he in... I don't know. Go! Yes, sir. For I will work a deed in your days which he will not believe, though it be told you. Janice, this is incredible. Why? You heard of the bell ring. Yes.

I saw it ring. Without anybody there? I was as close to that bell as I am to you now. No hand held the rope. There were no strings or wires or any tricks to make it move. It had clanged back and forth alone in the tower. And I thought I heard someone laugh. Laugh? Oh, don't take that too seriously. We were both overwrought and the noise of the bell was deafening. What about Mr. Emmett? Emmett yelled some words I couldn't hear and lunged for the bell. Then something caught him.

Something caught him and gave him a sledgehammer blow in the back. That belt is nothing but open arches. You heard him scream. I saw his face just before he went over. Lock the door to the tower, Father. Lock it. I can't lock it. Emmett has the key. But why should I lock it? Because he's still in there. He? He hadn't done any harm before, but he's done harm now. There's no telling what might happen if he gets loose. You mean? I mean Professor Ann Smith's protege, whoever he is. The man without a body. No!

Under the red sunset some quarter of a mile away. A grass carpeted lane winds between rows of apple trees. The lane is dusky. Though light shine into it from the windows of a large stone house. Dr. Norwood's house beyond the apple tree. Up and down. Up and down a shadowy figure is pacing. An elderly figure. A dejected figure. Tall and frail as a shadow among shadows.

muttering to itself, shaking its head, now and then raising one fist in bewilderment or anguish. Sometimes the light gleams on large spectacles in a kindly mouth. Up and down. Endlessly up and down strides Professor Hansmith. I'm not guilty. I'm not guilty. How can I convince them that I'm not guilty? Who's there? I saw you dodge behind that tree.

Stand out, sir. Did you call me Professor Hansman? Yes, I did call you. Who are you? You probably won't recognize me, Professor Hansman. Nevertheless, my friend, may I ask what your name is? My name is Wellman, Professor George Wellman. Wellman, Wellman. I've heard that name. Maybe you have. I'm a builder by trade and a great friend of Dr. Norwood's. Wait one moment.

Aren't you the young man whose firm is putting up these air-raid shelters along the seawall? And making such an unholy din with your riveting machines? That's me. And come to think of it, aren't you the one who first started this alarm about... an invisible man? Yes, because I met him. You did not meet him, sir. This whole thesis is scientific nonsense. And I won't have it. You won't have what?

I'm an old man, Mr. Weldon. I never did anybody the least harm. As God is my judge, I know nothing whatever about this, this... What's that? It looks like the vicar's car, Professor. You'd better stand back. This is a pretty narrow lane. Whistle

Ansmith! Professor Ansmith! Yes, Mr. Morley, I hear you. We thought you'd better drive over here straight away. I think you've met my daughter. And of course you know Dr. Norwood. There's no time for any social formalities. Get into your house, Professor Ansmith. Get in quickly and close the shutters. But why should I do that?

Because there's a mob coming, sir, and we can't stop them. Hurry, do hurry. A mob coming here? Why? Haven't you heard the news? I've heard nothing, my friend. The only person I've seen has been that young man there who chews a toothpick and hides behind the trees. George Wellman? What on earth are you doing here? Watching, Janice.

Watching and waiting, just as usual. Listen to me, Professor Ansmith. Henry Emmett, the head verger at St. Luke's, was thrown from the belfry window not 20 minutes ago. Not by me, sir, I assure you. I had nothing to do with it. No, not by you, but apparently...

By the invisible man. Oh, Father in heaven, will this never stop? Not till we catch the fellow. No, be quiet, Mr. Berman, please. I'm sorry, Padre, I take it back. I myself can testify that no visible person laid hands on Emmett. He was struck, struck as though with a gigantic fist. What's the matter, Professor Ansmith? Is anything wrong? No, no, no, no, no. I was just thinking. Is Emmett dead? Fortunately, no. Oh.

I'm glad of that, my friend, for a certain person's sake. He's not even seriously hurt. The bell tower isn't high and a tree broke a force of his fall, but he's badly shaken up. And that crowd of the coach and horses means trouble. If you haven't anything to say to us, if you haven't a word of explanation to utter... Listen, Padre, don't you hear anything? Nothing.

Yes, I thought I heard voices. Can't be that crowd from the village. We're too far ahead of them. It's a crowd, all right. And they've been here for hours. But where? I don't see anybody. Jim, look. Behind the trees. Look behind the trees. Look beyond the hedgerows. Look for any place where a watcher can hide. And may I ask what they're doing here? They're watching you, Professor Antsmith. More of your spies, you mean. You can call them anything you please. They're watching you.

They're getting impatient and they want to show down. If I as much as hold my hand up like this... What's that? Don't throw stones at the windows, you fools! You'll only break the doctor's window! Gentlemen, I can't have any more of this. Be quiet, all of you, and listen to me. Well, sir, we're listening. I'm a peaceful man.

I like to live in peace with my neighbors. I have nothing to do with this so-called reign of terror. But you don't believe that, do you? No. Then I must expose a fraud. Now, don't blame me if I expose the trickster, too.

I have made preparations to show you the invisible man. The man without a body. Quiet, everybody! Mr. Morley, I believe you and your daughter walked through this lane last night while I was away at the very St. Edmunds. I don't know about your being away, sir. My daughter and I were certainly here, yes. Good, good.

Miss Janice Morley. Yes, Professor Ensmith. Will you look toward your right, please, at the house?

What do you see? It's the same room. What room? The room with the little round table and the gramophone. It's a three-legged table, you notice. Yes, of course. But there's nobody in the room. No, nobody at all. Are conditions exactly as they were last night? Yes, except there aren't any gloves on the table. No, but the invisible man is there. Oh. A living presence, ready to act and breathe and even kill. Even kill? With your permission, I shall now address him. This

Hello in there. Hello in there.

Hello in there. If anybody answers him, Father, I'm going to scream. Quiet, Janice, quiet. Father, look. The gloves are appearing on the table. I call out to him and I speak as follows. Hold the phonograph with your left glove. That's it. Turn the handle with your right. One turn.

Two. Three. Four. That's enough. Touch the spring with your left hand. Push the record. Lower the needle with your right and...

Ladies and gentlemen, the Invisible Man. On the contrary, let them throw all they like. Aim at the table, my friend. Aim at the table. Why at the table? Because then they'll see the trick. I don't follow you. What trick? The trick of the looking glasses. There. There.

You see now, my friend? I think I do. The legs of the table form a triangle with its point towards you. Pass it to me.

Panels of looking glass are fitted in the two sides facing you. What do you know about that? You think you can see under the table... but what you actually see are the side walls of the room... reflected in those two mirrors. Oh, wait a minute. You mean... I mean that my old servant, hidden behind the mirrors...

has just been working the gloves to a panel in the tabletop. It's a very old rig, first shown by Colonel Stodair at the London Polytechnic. And that's what happened last night? Yes.

And you had nothing to do with it? Nothing whatever, nor had my servant. Then who did do it and why? What is the explanation of all this? Well, I can't tell you why. That's what beats me. But I can tell you everything else. This invisible man who's been scaring us all silly? My dear young lady, there's no invisible man. There never has been.

I might believe that, Professor Antsmith, if I hadn't seen a church bell ringing where there was no hand to ring it. And poor old Emmett flung out of the tower as though a giant hand had got hold of it. You're not saying that was done with the looking glasses? No, my friend, not at all. That was really clever. Strings?

Wires, ropes? No, they weren't necessary. But the thing's impossible. Oh, no. The same principle was used by my old friend J.N. Maskelyne to make mechanical figures work. Psycho played twist. And Zoe drew pictures. I myself... Go on, sir. You yourself...

What are you going to say? The secret I was about to say remains unknown even today. You were right in a way when you tell us that Emmett acted as though a giant had got hold of him. A giant had got hold of him. At least, a gigantic force. Oh, before we all go completely mad, would you mind telling us what this gigantic force was? Not at all. It was compressed air. Compressed air? But don't you see it even yet? Any of you? No, we don't.

A compressed air pipe with a thousand pounds pressure behind it was run up into the tower facing the bell. It could be operated from the ground outside. The pressure was turned on and off in bursts.

It made that heavy bell swing like a toy. Emmett, don't you remember? Emmett rushed forwards towards the bell. And the air pressure? The air pressure struck him like a sledgehammer and flung him headlong out of the tower. There's your miracle, gentlemen.

That's all there was to it. Sir, I can't doubt what you say. It's too circumstantial and too right. But what, my friend? The compressed air tanks. The mechanical apparatus to work this trick. Well, what about it? Where did it come from?

Such things don't grow on bushes. No, but they do grow on riveting machines. Riveting machines? Yes, such as the riveting machine they're using on the air raid shelters along the seawall. Would you care to tell us, Dr. James Norwood, why you and your friend Wellman have been playing all these tricks? What do you mean?

All of you. Jim Norwood. Is this true? Why, of course it's true, Mr. Morley. Don't be so gullible. Jim and George Wellman doing all this?

I don't believe it. Take a look at their faces, young lady. Did you ever see a guiltier-looking pair? So we look guilty, do we? Frankly, you do. We played the whole game and convinced the village there was an invisible man. Is that it? Yes. You worked the glove trick in your own house. And Wellman worked the air trick with his own equipment. Everything else was nothing but a pack of lies and a lot of atmosphere.

playing conjurers and making a blasted hash of it. Is that all, Professor Ann Smith? Well, remember, you brought this on yourself. I didn't want to expose you. No, Professor, I bet you didn't. Easy, George, take it easy. Jim, is this true? Before you start pitching into me, Janice, let me have my word first.

Do you remember what I said to you at the church tonight? At the church? Yes, I asked you to remember something, even if you didn't understand it. All right. Can you remember what it was? Oh, Jim, please. You're only trying to evade this. I'm so confused now, I don't remember anything. All I can think of is this horrible business and what's behind it. Father can't believe his ears, and I'm not much better. We've practically idolized you.

All we want you to do is answer a straight question. Jim, are these accusations true? Yes, they are true. Doubtless he had a good reason, Janice.

Doubtless he had a good reason. Yes, we had a good reason. The very best reason in the world. You had a good reason for scaring people half to death and trying to kill poor old Henry Emmett? We didn't mean any harm against Emmett. That was an accident. But you dare to defend yourself now? Yes, just that. Before we go home, Father, shall we apologize to Professor Ann Smith?

I hope he'll try to think better of English hospitality. Good, Janice, good. I hope he will, too. You hope he will. Listen, Janice, before you act on any belief, you have to be absolutely sure in your own mind.

George and I had to prove something. And now I'm glad to say we have proved it. Oh, I can't stand this any longer. If you have anything to say, go on and say it straight out. What was it you had to prove? We had to prove to our own satisfaction that this pretended American who calls himself Professor Ann Smith... Pretended American? Who calls himself Professor Ann Smith? We had to prove that this

pretended American was no other than Carl Heinrich von Keiss, the celebrated stage magician from the Winter Garden Theater in Berlin. What? Whose real job is to find the camouflage aerodrome near Bury St. Edmunds. No! He explained his own tricks very nicely, George. We'll swear out a warrant in the morning. And so closes The Man Without a Body, starring John Sutton and George Zuko. Tonight's tale of...

Suspend. This is your narrator, the man in black, who conveys to you Columbia's invitation to spend this half hour in suspense with us again next Tuesday when the distinguished actress, Miss Agnes Moorhead, will be heard in one of her many brilliant characterizations.

Starring with Miss Moorhead will be Miss Ellen Drew, who as Carol Linden tells the amazing story of Uncle Henry's rosebush. The producer of these broadcasts is William Spear, with Ted Bliss, the director, Bernard Herman and Lucian Mahowick, conductor and composer, and John Dixon Carr, the author, collaborated on tonight's suspense. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.

Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com. They've been here for thousands of years, making their presence known in the shadows. They might be seen by a lonely motorist on a deserted road late at night, or by a frightened and confused husband in the bedroom he's sharing with his wife.

Perhaps the most disconcerting part of this phenomenon boils down to this question: has the government been aware of their presence all along and is covertly working with them towards some secret end? In the audiobook, Runs of Disclosure, what once was fringe is now reality. While listening, you'll meet regular people just like you who have encountered something beyond their ability to explain.

You'll also hear from people of great faith and deep religious belief who continue to have these strange and deeply unsettling encounters. Author L.A. Marzulli explores these ongoing incidents to discover the answers to these questions: Who are they? What do they want? And why are they here? Can you handle the truth? Listen to this audiobook if you dare!

Rungs of Disclosure, Following the Trail of Extraterrestrials and the End Times, by L.A. Marzulli. Narrated by Darren Marlar. Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com.

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Looking for that perfect Father's Day gift? Ditch the boring polo shirts and barbecue aprons and get him something as unique as he is. Get him a Funko Pop of his very own, customized to look just like him. Whether you're shopping for your favorite fisherman, grill master, amateur golfer, or just the world's greatest dad, we've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com.

Do you like my horror-able humor episodes called Mind of Marler? If so, and you'd like more, it now has its very own podcast. Comedic creeps, sarcastic scares, frivolous frights, macabre madness. Every week I dive into strange history, twisted true crime, and paranormal weirdness. All the stuff you'd expect from me on Weird Darkness, but delivered with dark comedy, satire, and just the right amount of absurdity.

Monsters, myths, mysteries, mirth, and more every Monday with Mind of Marler. I like alliteration, can you tell? You can find a list of where you can subscribe to the podcast at WeirdDarkness.com under the menu tab for podcasts.

Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com. Are you one of the frightened? Have you ever imagined someone was following you, caught a glimpse of a strange face in the crowd behind you, and then that face mysteriously seems to be with you wherever you go?

Sylvester Dodge had just such an experience. Walk with me a bit, and I'll tell you about Sylvester and his man in the raincoat. Sylvester Dodge was a man like you or me. He worked as a bookkeeper in a Wall Street office, and for many years he was saving for the day when he could afford his trip to Europe, away from ledgers and bank balances and adding machines.

Finally, the last week of daily toil approached, and anticipation thrilled his fat little body as he boarded the Lexington Avenue local. The big vacation loomed on his horizon as the reward of a dreary lifetime. It was then that Sylvester Dodge first noticed the man in the raincoat with the curiously shaped umbrella. Something about the man made Sylvester shudder. The man's face was a deathly white.

and the hands surrounding the handle of the umbrella were like great claws. The flesh of the fingers were horribly gnarled and ghastly green. Sylvester could not bear to look at him, but even in turning away he felt the eyes of the man boring into his back like twin beams of awful light. You know the feeling, don't you? Someone who's looking at you, staring at you,

eyeing you with such a terrible concentration that you want to scream or cry out, stop, stop. When the train reached the station, Sylvester rushed from his car like a man released from prison. The man in the subway had shocked him, but then again, you do meet all kinds of people in New York, don't you? And so Sylvester Dodge began the five-block walk to his office.

The sun was out, April breezes caressed the stone buildings and people hustled along with spring steps. But Sylvester had that curious feeling that I mentioned to you. Someone was following him. He felt eyes peering at his back, could feel somebody's interest and attention focused on his rounded body hurrying through the crowd. He found himself walking faster, faster,

He stopped for a streetlight, panting for air. He turned. A deathly white face in the crowd bobbed like a Halloween skeleton and vanished. Sylvester dodged world and raced across the street, his coatpads flying. He stopped again, a block away from his office, and flung a backward look. There was the man in the raincoat, waving his claw-like hand and greeting the umbrella dangling from the wrist.

Something pounded in Dodge's skull and desperately he raced the remaining block and fell against the building wall gasping for breath. He turned slowly, fighting for his reason, but no, there was the man with the raincoat, a scant ten yards away, coming towards him. The ghastly face was smiling, the umbrella was outstretched, almost as if it was seeking something.

Sylvester Dodge pushed out from the wall and left the protection of the building. At that precise moment, the grand piano that was being hoisted to the office on the fourth floor swung awkwardly on its pulley. The rope snapped and its great weight crashed to the sidewalk, pinning Sylvester Dodge to his death. So you see...

Poor Sylvester tried to run away from his fate and dodged in the wrong direction, all because he had the silly notion that someone was following him. Well, I'll leave you here, my friend. Huh? You don't think my face is so awfully white, do you? Oh, I'm so sorry. I seem to have dropped my umbrella. Would you mind very much handing it to me? No.

Little Amy was only nine years old when her uncle Stanley died. It was difficult for her to cope with his terrible death as she spent most of her summer vacation days with her loving uncle. Amy's father had always worked long hours and uncle Stanley was the father figure in her life. Stanley, who'd been divorced for quite some time, had no children and Amy was his only salvation from a lonely existence. He was buried in the cemetery just two blocks up from her house.

and she would go visit his grave every day, sometimes more than once. It was on a particularly hot August night when Amy's parents had prepared to go out to a fancy restaurant across town. Both being hard-working professionals and leading a busy life, they felt they'd owed themselves this rare treat. They were running late to make their 8 o'clock reservation. Paul, Amy's older brother, was scheduled to show up at 7.30 to babysit Amy, but had not yet arrived.

Seeing that her parents were running late, Amy assured them that she would be fine waiting by herself. She then hurried them to go out and have a good time. They both kissed her goodbye and drove off. Amy was so involved playing with her dolls that she hadn't noticed how fast the time was flying by. Paula had not yet arrived. As the big chime clock in the living room struck eleven, distant thunder was heard. Amy began to be scared. This unlikely summer storm was growing louder and mightier by the noon.

She took her dolls with her and ran to her parents' bedroom and pulled the blankets over her head. She lay there shivering when suddenly a deafening thunderclap exploded and a brilliant lightning flash illuminated the whole house. The power in the house went dead. Amy picked up the phone receiver to try and call her parents' cell phone, but the phone line was dead as well. The following minutes were eerily quiet. Nothing was heard but the wind blowing in the trees. Amy started crying. Then...

To her surprise, the phone rang. Hoping it was either her parents or her brother Paul, Amy hurriedly picked it up. "'Hello?' she said in a shaky voice. The line still seemed dead. Had she just imagined the phone ringing seconds earlier? "'Hello, Mom?' she asked again. Then, sounding faint and distant, a familiar voice was heard over the phone line. It was Uncle Stanley's voice. "'Do not leave the house, Amy.'

"You'll be safe if you stay right here. Don't be afraid, I'm watching over you." The phone then went silent again. The storm raged on unabated, but Amy slept peacefully. Early the following morning, Amy was awakened by her brother Paul. As he picked her up off of the bed, she could see through the bedroom window the neighborhood was demolished. All the surrounding houses had been destroyed by the vicious storm.

Paul explained that his car had broken down and he'd been stuck on the highway for most of the night. He said that he had some bad news. They would never see their parents again. He told her they were both killed in a horrible car accident on their way home. It's a miracle you survived the storm, Paul said with tears in his eyes. Weeping uncontrollably, Amy choked out her story of the strange phone call she'd gotten from Uncle Stanley.

Paul comforted his little sister, but suspected she was in a state of shock. And yet, as they were walking out of the house, he looked up and noticed something strange. The phone line from the house was entirely intact out to the first pole on the street, but then it dropped at an angle, continuing straight into the cemetery. The end of the broken line was wrapped around the tombstone that Uncle Stan was graved.

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Now sliced. Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com. William Reed is going to be tried again. It won't do any good, Major. He's going to be tried, convicted, and executed. And it'll be done legally, as legally as possible. ♪♪

Theater 5 presents The Wrong Arm of Justice. I wish you would check with me first, Alice.

But the last person I want to have dinner with tonight is your father. The brave district attorney. Well, if Reed's acquittal hit me hard enough without having the major season my food with his ideas about the case. All right, just turn the car around and drive home. Father will understand. Only too well. Thanks a lot. Well... All right, I'll sit and listen to his gaffe even if it chokes me.

You didn't talk that way about Father when he was helping you get your law practice started. Or when he helped get me elected district attorney. Okay, remind me to thank him again and again and again. If you can't be grateful, at least be smart. Father's just as ambitious for you as you are for yourself. He feels deeply about your defeat in court. It couldn't have hurt more if it had happened to him. I don't have any intention of calling off my fight against Reed. Well, tell that to Father.

I'm sure that's all he wants to hear. All right. Oh, Alice, why am I taking it out on you? I'm sorry. Keep your eyes on the road, Jay. Are you sure you won't have another glass of wine, Jay? No, thank you, Major. You'll drink with me, Alice? Certainly, Father.

It's not often you honor the old Major with your company of an evening. Jay's been busy. Yes. Well, now that Reed is free again to terrorize the public, you'll have a lot more time on your hands. If you don't mind, Major, I'd rather not discuss the Reed case. He apparently bought off the jury. I have no proof of that. Come on, son. You presented an airtight case. If those jurors weren't bribed, then they were afraid of reprisal by Reed's gang. Listen, the next time...

Never mind. Oh, go on, Jay. I said I don't want to talk about it. Jay claims he isn't going to stop trying until Reed is convicted. Oh, sure. I don't care how long it takes. I'll get him. Yes, that's what you said in the newspaper interview. Your statement was printed side by side with Reed's. His read better. Major, get off my back. I'm sorry, Jay. I know the wound is still fresh. I did everything I could. Yes, everything you were permitted to do. Okay, okay.

Let's rehash all my mistakes. Tell me how you would have handled the case. No, Jay, no. I can't find fault with your prosecution of the case one bit. You made mince pie of Reed's defense and your summation was brilliant. I was proud of you. Thanks. But unfortunately, your effort was in vain. He got to that jury. I thought he might. Major, I'll say without reservation that I believe Reed bribed or frightened the jury. But proving it is another thing.

I've had each one of those 12 men down at my office. I promised them immunity. I promised them protection. Yet all of them swore they voted on the evidence. Should I have beaten the truth out of them? That might not have been a bad idea. But I'll agree it wouldn't have done any good.

Even if one of them stopped fearing for his life or the lives of his family, at best you'd get only a new trial. Then the same thing all over again. Decent people living in daily terror of that killer. And the law powerless to do anything about it. We are not powerless. You've got to fight fire with fire. Mazer, don't you think I get fed up seeing people like Reed go free?

Reed's crimes are against the people, but it was my face that was pushed in the mud by that verdict. Maybe you like the taste of mud, Jane. Alice. Now, now, now. I didn't mean this to develop into a family argument. No? No, sir. Now, we shouldn't be fighting each other. The enemy is William Reed. Let's turn our anger against him, and let's be selfish about it. Now,

Now, this acquittal is going to affect your career, Jay. Oh, you put up a grand fight. But Reed won. And after the dust settles, that's all the people are going to remember. You failed them. I did my best. Is that what you're going to say in your campaign speeches? That is, if the party doesn't dump you for a new candidate? Is that a threat, Major? Why should I threaten you, Jay? I want to see you get re-elected.

Oh, excuse me. That must be a call I was expecting. Did you know about this, Alice? Did you know he was going to threaten me? The threat to your career isn't from my father. And you can keep that prosecuting attorney tone out of your voice. Save it for Reed. What does he want me to do? What does he expect me to agree to? Come on, there must be something. The party can drop me and run someone else for district attorney. But he didn't put it that way. He said, if they do. I know your father well enough to know he's giving me an alternative.

What is it? Ask him. Oh, I'm sorry we were interrupted. But from your looks, Jay, I suppose you'd rather change the subject of our discussion. I'm sorry, Major. I've got to get back to the city. Alice. Ask him, Jay. Oh, now, Alice, if Jay doesn't want to continue, if he doesn't care about his career... You coming, Alice? Yes.

It's a pity you won't be given another chance to convict Reed. I'll get him to trial again. I guarantee that. Surely you don't think you'd be entrusted to handle the prosecution a second time. Now, look, Major...

Maybe you can pull a couple of strings with the party, but as long as I'm still in office... You have no cause to be angry with me, Jay. I'm your friend. And as such, I'm anxious to help you. And as your father-in-law, I want you to succeed. Why, if you play your cards right, re-election is only the second rung on the ladder. Someday you'll be governor.

Major, I resent being maneuvered. And I dislike having to maneuver you. Then come to the point. All right. Now, I want you to listen to me without interrupting while I lay out some cold facts. Then you're going to have to make up your mind about something. Go ahead, just sit down and listen. William Reed is a cancer eating away at our city. You gathered the evidence. Murder, extortion, a dozen rackets.

Is there a shadow of a doubt in your mind that the man is guilty? Certainly not. But you'll let him get loose again. And that statement that he made to the papers. These are the hypocritical words of a monster. Listen to what he said.

All I want to say is that my acquittal reaffirms my belief in American justice. Justice? Major, every cheap hoodlum who beats a rap always says that. Exactly. They make a mockery of the law. And each one who gets away with it breeds more disrespect for the law. More violence. More terror. The public has a right to be protected. Now, Jay, you've said you know beyond all doubt that William Reed is guilty. In court, you asked for the death penalty. Yes.

Will you admit that even if you could have him indicted again, will you admit that your chances of convicting him are almost non-existent? What does this have to do with... An honest answer, Jay. I don't know.

If he got to one jury, he might be able to get to another. Aha! There it is. More failure waiting for you. Frustration. But the public doesn't want excuses. They don't want the law to fail them. They want to be rid of William Reed. Now you listen to me. I've stuck my neck out for you. I've assured some people that you want to see justice done just as much as they do.

Now, these are the same men who will back you all the way to the State House. Thanks again. Don't be a fool. We want you to try Reed again. Present the evidence. This time he'll be convicted and executed. I don't think I'm following you, Major. Jay, we've got him. We've got William Reed. He's our prisoner. Your prisoner?

What? Are you crazy, Major? You can't get away... We can do it without you, Jay. Now make up your mind. You admitted you don't have a chance to convict him in open court. All right, but to take the law in your own hands... We have no choice. Alice, do you want me to do this? I want you to succeed. Well, Jay, when is this...

supposed to take place? As soon as we get to the farmhouse where Reed is being held. They're waiting for us. All right. I'll present the evidence. ♪♪

We knew about Reed's little hideaway in the hills for some time. So we figured he'd head there right after the trial. It was that easy. My 12-gauge shotgun did most of the talking. And you're sure that no one saw you leave that cabin with Reed as your prisoner? I told you that. The only people that know we've got Reed are the four of us in this room.

Aunt Ray. He knows. Jay, why this concern with the obvious? Let's get on with what we have to do. It seems like the district attorney's heart isn't in his works. Oh, nonsense. Jay's asking legitimate questions. Now, don't worry, son. We've thought of everything. Took every precaution.

Reed's execution will serve as a warning to the rest of his gang that they can't escape from justice. We intend that his body is discovered. Yes, indeed. And our district attorney is going to be stumped for clues. Right, Jake? First, we've got to convict this man. Good. The committee is now in session. Henry, go get the prisoners.

Why didn't Henry just shoot Reed when he had the chance? Why, he couldn't have done that. Let's get something straight, Jay. We all believe in the law. This is being done as legally as possible. That's why you're here. To see that Reed is judged on the evidence. Yes. I'm here to see that Reed gets a fair trial. Look, you characters. If you think I'm going to let you get away with this... Shut your mouth, mister. Get in here. The words of that shotgun are...

Well, the Boy Scout, the D.A. himself. The prisoner will sit in that chair. The prosecution will present its case. Prosecution?

What kind of joke is this? The defendant will remain silent or be ejected from... Silent? Who do you think you are? I'll get every one of you. I'll scatter your brains. Take him back to his room. Why, you... Boy, Scout, you got to get on this lynch party. You're on the list. You'll be the first to get... Watch it, mister. This gun's loaded for buck. Now move. All right, Jay. Get on with the evidence. And make it fast. The sooner we destroy that vermin, the better. Come on.

He's locked up again. Let's get this over with. All right. Gentlemen, due to the extraordinary nature of these proceedings, I have no physical evidence to present and no witnesses to call. Therefore, you must rely on my memory of the facts contained within my files. I may be in error as to precise dates, names, and... Oh, we know that, Jay. Just get started. Are you all in agreement? Yes.

I, uh... I want to be certain that in your minds you see nothing wrong with this procedure. Incidentally, this evidence was not presented at the court trial. I'll accept your words like I do the gospel. Tell us the facts. As you remember them. All right. I charge William Reed... ...being an accessory before the fact in the death of Mr. James Russell... ...I offer that one...

Fred Logan, while in the employ and on behalf of William Reed, did enter the home of James Russell and caused him bodily injury which resulted in Russell's death. I further offer...

That Fred Logan made a full confession to the police in which he admitted he was ordered by Reed to extort money from Russell under threat of violence. Well, that's enough to satisfy me. Why, it's incredible. That was one of Reed's crimes I hadn't heard about. If I may continue. We checked Logan's confession. You don't have to tell us any more, Jay. I want to give more facts. Hmm?

so that there isn't a shadow of doubt left in your minds about Reed's guilt. That isn't necessary. I disagree. All of us are going to have to live the rest of our lives with the knowledge of what we're doing here tonight. Yes. He's right, Major. Go on, D. Thank you. Thank you.

And that concludes the case for the prosecution. Good, solid, and airtight. Well, gentlemen, all that remains is to pass sentence. Just a minute.

The prisoner has the right of defense. What are you trying to do? We're doing this as legally as possible. Your own words, Major. But what defense can that killer have? I don't know. Let me ask him. I'll present his argument, whatever it is. And then you can decide on his guilt or innocence. Oh, it's a waste of time. No, no.

Let's hear Reed's story. It won't hurt to take another few minutes. Give me the key to the room, Henry. I'd better come along with a shotgun. That won't be necessary. If he tries anything, I'll call out. A ridiculous delay. It's the proper legal procedure. Jay's right. Sure. What's the difference, Major? Reed's gonna be dead a long time. THE END

Name your price. Anything. Listen, you're the DA. You can't join in a kangaroo court. You can't. You're scared. Well, you're sure right I am. This is crazy. Please. Please. You're finished, Reed. All finished. All right, Jay. Let's hear the defense. But make it brief. As counsel for the defendant...

I move that this court be dissolved as being illegal and unconstitutional. Motion denied. Proceed with the defense. Very well. My client denies the allegations. He contends he had no part in any crime concerning James Russell. In fact, he even denies having ever heard of James Russell. Right up to the last minute. My client also denies employing Fred Logan to extort money from Russell under threat of violence.

Furthermore, he contends no acquaintance with said Fred Logan. If I may summarize.

I contend that the district attorney lied. That he presented a false set of facts. That he described to this court a crime which didn't exist. John, remember you said that it was a crime you had never even heard about? Yes. You were right. It never happened. I fabricated the whole thing. You were all waiting to pass judgment without proof. Just to ease your conscience. Now, hold on. This just could be another pack of lies. You're acting as his defender now. How do we know which version to believe? Order! Order! Order!

Has the counsel for the defendant concluded? I'm neither the defendant nor the prosecutor, and you men are not judge and jury. You're on trial. We're all on trial. Yes, I invented a case against William Reed, just as I could invent a case against any of you. And in this kind of court, find you guilty. I warn you, Jay. We start with Reed, then who's next? Some innocent man whom we think is guilty? We know Reed is guilty of a dozen crimes. He's a menace to society. Not as big a menace as this court. All right. You've made your speech clear.

But remember this, Jay. You're in this as deeply as we are, whether you like it or not. I vote Reed guilty as charged. Well, I... I don't know. If that wasn't a real crime that Jay described... That's not important. I...

What's that? It's Jay's car. Moving out towards the highway. Jay, who could be driving your car? It's Reed. I left the room unlocked and gave him the keys to my car. You tricked us. You helped that killer escape. I kept three other people from becoming killers. That is, unless you're ready to put me on trial, Major. Come in. Come in.

I, uh... I talked with Father, Jay. Alice, I'm working. Oh, you're preparing the new case against Reed? Yes. Do you think you'll be able to convict him this time? If not this time, the next. But he will be convicted. Well, I... I know you're right, Jay, but... Father, wasn't he right, too? No, Alice. You can't have law and order by violating the law.

A lot of men decide your father, think the end justifies the means. But they're wrong. They're always wrong. ♪♪

♪♪

Executive producer for Theater 5, Edward A. Byron. ♪♪ We invite your comments. Write to Theater 5, New York 23, New York. This is Fred Foy speaking. ♪♪

This has been an ABC Radio Network production.

Now sliced. Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com.

Now sliced. Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com. Time to tell tales of the unaccountable, of apparitions by night and phantoms and shadows. Time to tell strange stories of fantasy and the supernatural.

Theater 1030 presents Two Little Punctures by Anthony Lee Flanders, starring John Scott as George, with Paul Kligman as Harry, and Ed McNamara as Bill. Yes, it was very clever of you to find me. It's not many that would have suspected my connection with an event that happened so long ago and so far away, but you're quite right.

I was in Peru in 1948, and though my name was never connected to the story, I was there when it happened. I suppose it doesn't matter now if I tell you about it. And it isn't often that the newspaper sends out a pretty young lady to interview me. So I'll tell you the story.

It can't hurt me now. I'm an engineer, practical man, 35 years of the same oil company. I have a house, mortgage paid off, two cars, a family, a portfolio of investments. Not exactly what you'd call a nut, so I'll tell you about it. It was actually in late 1947 I was sent to Telerra, Peru. It's on the Pacific coast, the furthest point west on the South American continent.

Oh, George! So they sent you down here too, greedy company. They just can't get that oil out of the ground fast enough. They said it's pretty busy here, Bill. Busy? That's hardly the word for it. Can you imagine? We're building a whole bloody town right here on the coast. It's like an invasion. Trucks, dollar-raising equipment and supplies like they're going out of style. The report says it's one of the largest strikes the company's ever had.

It is, George. It is. He was right. The activity was phenomenal. There were already paved highways for the trucks. The place was a forest of wooden oil derricks. When they were done with the derrick, they just left it and moved on. And they were building a town. A house a day was being completed in assembly line fashion. And as fast as they finished them, the employees brought their families in to live there. I sent for Barbara, my wife.

George, you know exactly as I pictured it. Well, how did you picture it? Well, I expected the lush tropics, not this. Just rolling desert right up to the ocean. Well, look over there. Those are the Andes. You can see them quite plainly on a clear day. Now, just back of them is the Amazon jungle. Here it's just sandy hills leading up to the mountains. Barbara and I moved into one of the just-completed houses...

We held a little party with some of our friends. Harry Thompson was there. He was the interpreter. He'd just come back from a trip. I was just up to some of the villages in the Andes. It's pretty spooky there. Nothing you can put your finger on. Just a feeling. Something in the air. Or maybe the look in their eyes. I don't know. But it bothers me. Do you think it's something that we should warn the rest of us? The trouble is I don't know exactly what to warn them about.

Let's just keep our eyes open, okay? I was inclined to listen to Harry. He'd been here a long time, and if he had a hunch, there was probably something to it. And besides, he knew the natives pretty well. But nothing seemed to come of it. Of course, it was impossible to tell if things were normal because the whole area was in such a confusion. Then there was an event that didn't make things any easier.

George! George! Barbara, where are you? In here, the bedroom. Come on, we've got to get out of here. What is it? The whole house is shaking. It's an earthquake. Come on. Get outside before the house collapses. It was one hell of an earthquake. Actually, a whole series of them. Between the Andes and the Pacific coast. For a couple of hundred miles north and south. George!

George? George? Yeah? Can I talk to you for a minute? Yeah, sure, Doc. What is it? Well, look, we're going out of our minds over at the hospital. We've got beds for 40 patients, and God only knows how many hundreds need medical help.

They're camped all over town. Now, can you engineers give us a hand, set up some emergency bedding for the bad cases? Yes, sir. Yes, we could. How about the warehouse, for starters? Good. Oh, another thing. We've radios for medical supplies. We want to fly them in. You think your boys could build a strip big enough for a DC-3 to land? That'll take a bit of doing. When's it coming from? Red Cross headquarters in Wiener.

Well, I'll get to work in the warehouse. I'll see what can be done about this room. That was the situation. Chaotic and primitive. The natives were completely illiterate. Most wandered around naked all the time. The people from the company had been inoculated against everything, and of course, we got the best medical treatment. But there just wasn't enough to go around for all the natives. They were dying at an astonishing rate. The ones who weren't ill just sat around, looking dumbfounded by the whole thing.

I guess they thought they offended the guards or something. And then some things happened that told me the whole situation was a lot more explosive than we thought. No, I haven't noticed anything unusual at all, Harry. I mean, hell, it's an unusual situation, but it's been like this for about ten days now. That's what I mean. Even unusual situations settle down to their own form of normal. But last night, I thought I noticed something different. Hey...

It's funny you should mention that. I had a weird feeling last night. I was walking around camp, checking on the supplies, and I had a peculiar feeling that somebody was watching me.

But I checked and everything was all right. Come on, you guys. You sure you ain't got a fever or something? Well, why don't you ask the doctor? Here he comes now. George. Oh, uh, George, I want to talk to you. Can I see you for a minute? Yeah, sure, Don. What is it? You mean private, George? Yes. Um, over here. Now, George, it's nothing you should get too worried about, uh,

I mean, I think it's not serious. We'll get to the point, Doctor. Well, it's Barbara. Barbara! Now, don't get excited. Look, if something's the matter with Barbara, let's hear about it. Look, I saw her this morning in the routine checkup of the company people. She seemed all right, except... well, except for one thing.

She seemed listless. Oh, is that all? Well, she's tired of this place. You know Barbara. She misses shopping, the cocktail party circuit, getting all dressed up for a concert. She's just bored here. Yeah. Sure, George. That must be it. Well, did you see anything that showed her to be something else? She looked a little anemic. She hasn't been sleeping well. It's the confusion.

She's not used to earthquakes and thousands of natives camped on her doorstep dying faster than we can bury them. Now, there's a real problem for you, Doctor. It's a hazard to the community's health. We've got to bury those bodies a lot quicker.

The situation was getting steadily worse. The earthquakes had struck for hundreds of miles up and down the coast, and medical supplies were desperately short. The Red Cross flew in what they could, but it wasn't nearly enough. The natives continued to die. There was a change of mood in the camp, a growing restlessness, a feeling hard to describe among the natives. One morning, it was more noticeable than ever. It doesn't look good. No. No, we were just discussing, George and I...

There is something strange going on. Did you notice the natives? They look spooky as hell. I came up behind one this morning, Seth. On the shoulder, he damn near jumped out of his skin. Something happened last night. I don't know what it was. I heard a couple of them talking. They were whispering about something they saw last night. I asked them what they were talking about, but they wouldn't answer. They just slunk off. Same thing with all the others, I asked. I think we'd better keep a close watch on them.

Break out the weapons, the ammunition. We're outnumbered here, 25 to 1. If they ever decide that we're not welcome, well, look out. Harry, they wouldn't do that. They know we're friendly. I'm not sure. They're a spooky bunch. No one can tell for sure what they're thinking. Maybe Bill's right. We'd better get the guns out, just for our own protection. I didn't like that. The natives would see the guns and think that we had a reason for being scared, I said. But I was overruled. And as it turned out, I was damn glad I was.

What is it? I don't know. I was just sitting up here on guard when all of a sudden there was a panic. Just like that, a stampede. Natives running everywhere, screaming and yelling. They looked like they were scared out of their minds. They were about to overrun the supply, so I fired in the air a few times.

That quieted them down. They seem to have settled down. I talked to the chiefs. They're trying to get them back into the camp. Did you see anything, Harry? No, not myself. But I heard some of them yelling about a woman in white up there on the cliffs. Oh, that's all we need. Some crazy woman walking around on the moonlight spooking savages like crazy in a situation like this. The woman in white was Barbara. Well, I'm pretty sure it was anyway. And I got home. She was in bed.

wearing her white negligee, the full-length one. It was dirty around the bottom. She had clay on her feet. Clay from the cliffs. I figured that she'd had one of her dreams. But she'd taken the sleeping pills the doctor gave her. She couldn't wake up. So she ended up walking in her sleep. I used to walk in my sleep when I was a kid, so I knew something about that. I didn't tell anyone it was Barbara, though. There's no need to get people upset. I didn't even tell her. She was nervous enough about the situation.

Telling her she was sleepwalking wouldn't have made her feel any better. I told her I had tracked the clay into the house and she must have picked it up that way. She didn't say anything. In fact, she didn't even seem to notice. She seemed... Well, lethargic is the word, I think. The situation in town, though, is the complete opposite. That night... What are they up to?

I'm not sure. It's some kind of ceremony. Supposed to drive away evil spirits or something. Let's hope they don't decide we're the evil spirits. Look! My God! It's the woman! There! Up on the cliffs! Stop! We've got to stop! I'll shoot. Over their heads first! Stop!

Now what are they doing? I think the chief wants to talk to us. I'll go see what it is. No, you better not. I think it's okay. He wants to show me something. I don't like it. Hey. Hey, doctor. Come in. Did you kill any of them? No. Oh, I shot over their head.

Doctor, what in the hell is going on? I think I have an idea. Doctor, will you come with me? Bill. Bill, call George up here. I was guarding the food supplies when Bill came down and got me and went up to see the doctor. George, that woman was Barbara. Yes, I know. She can sleepwalking. That's probably true, George. George?

But you've got to stop her from walking up there on those cliffs. She's probably safe herself. Sleepwalkers are all right unless they're suddenly disturbed. But she's scaring the hell out of the natives. Well, she did look a little eerie, but that shouldn't scare them. It's just a woman. You can't harm them. That isn't what they think. They think she's a vampire. Don't be ridiculous. Look, I know she isn't a vampire. You know she isn't a vampire. But they think she is. I didn't want to mention it before. What?

But they have reason to think that. We've been warned on the medical bulletins that the earthquakes have changed the migratory patterns of a lot of the wildlife. But what's that got to do with Barbara? There is a species of vampire bat. It's found in parts of Mexico and Central America. Maybe it's found in the Amazon, too. Nobody's been there to check. Anyway, I think that species has suddenly shown up here.

The earthquakes caused them to come. They live on the blood of men. The quakes drove all the mammals out of the Andes. The bats must have fallen. I've had eight cases of natives dying from a cause I couldn't determine. But I went back and checked. On all eight, there were two little punctures in the net right on the juggler thing.

Well, they haven't hit any of our people because we sleep in houses with the insect necks on. Tell me, Doctor, what are the symptoms? I'm not sure. I've only seen them death. But I suspect general listlessness, lethargy, and meaning. Those are Barbara's symptoms? That's right. She's been sleepwalking. It would be the same as being bitten in her sleeping bed.

Look at this, George. Two small punctures on her throat. Right over the jugular vein. You've got to do something. Difficult, George. It's very difficult.

We have no idea what the effects of this are. People are dying from it. But we don't know why. We've got to make sure that she doesn't get out again. And make sure nothing gets in. You keep a watch on her. I'll wear the Red Cross and Lima. They should have some experience with this sort of thing. I'll get right at it. I kept a constant watch on Barbara. I don't think I slept for two whole days. On the second night, she seemed better.

Here, I brought you some food. Yes. I think I'd like to eat now. You haven't eaten for three days. Do you remember anything? No, I've been sleeping. I've been so tired lately. I've had bad dreams. Oh, George, can we leave here? I'm so frightened. If we don't leave right away, something terrible is going to happen. Something terrible.

Very terrible. Barbara was right. Somehow the place seemed to have subtly changed. At first, not knowing what to expect, everything I'd seen in South America had seemed natural to me. I'd just taken it for granted. That is, until that evening. And then, for some reason, the whole thing seemed, well, like a picture, suddenly gone out of focus.

Perhaps it was because I was so tired from staying up and watching Barbara, I fell asleep in the chair. Anybody home? George! George, wake up! Wake up! Oh, what is it? Wake up, man! Doctor! Doctor!

What are you doing here? Where's Barbara? Barbara? She's in the bedroom, I think. I think not. Not here. She's gone. I thought I saw a woman in white down near the natives' camp. We'd better find her. Come on. Where did you find her, Bill? Up on the cliffs again. I think the doctor better look at her, George. There's blood on her neck.

She's much worse, George. I'll have to give her a transfusion. I don't know how she gets the energy to go tramping around the cliffs when she's so weak. It's almost like a compulsion with her, it seems. Anyway, if she hasn't improved by morning, I'm going to have her flown to Lima. The Red Cross are better equipped for this sort of thing. They didn't get the chance to send her to Lima.

During the night she died, the doctor put on a death certificate, an unidentified tropical infection of the blood. We buried her that morning with no waiting. I was numb. I didn't know what to do. All that day I worked as hard as I could, helping the doctor with the natives, assisting in the construction of the new hospital and what used to be the warehouse. I was bone tired, but I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to lay down and have to face my thoughts. That night, still not able to sleep,

I stood guard duty with Bill. Some muggy night, eh? Yeah. Sure is. Damn natives. They're liable to overrun the place. Why? What is it this time? Superstitious bunch. They think they saw the woman in white on the cliff. Ah, that's impossible. Bobby. Yes, I know. They're just a spooky bunch of primitives imagining things. Look, George. Why don't you get some sleep?

Get the doctor to give you something. The doctor gave me some pills. I took two of them and fell asleep almost immediately. That was exactly what I wanted. But I kept dreaming about Barbara. I dreamt I saw her walking on the cliffs, her white flowing gown trailing out behind her, silhouetted against the sky. I dreamt she came to me while I was sleeping. She didn't make a sound. She seemed to glide into the room, but not from the door, through the window. She came to the bed,

and leaned over me. And then she hissed me on the neck for the longest time. And then she left in the morning. George, you look worse this morning than before. I think I'd better send you back home. I can justify it on medical grounds. The company will take you back to Canada. No, no, I don't think so, Doctor. At least not yet. I've got to adjust this whole situation in my mind. If I go back, it'll be unresolved. I won't have accepted anything.

I don't think I could live with it if I just run away. Let me stay a little longer. Well, a few more days. But if you don't show any improvement, back you go. I didn't tell the doctor my real reason for wanting to stay. Actually, I wanted to get out of there. I hated the place. I wasn't ready to leave Barbara. Not yet. The doctor gave me a sedative that night. Injected it. I went out like the proverbial light. Slept peacefully for several hours. Then, I seemed to be half-awake.

Semi-conscious. I was aware that there was someone in the room. I looked at the window and Barbara was standing there in a long white gown. She smiled at me, walked over to the bed, leaned over and kissed me on the neck. A long kiss. Same as the night before. And then I had an incredible feeling of peace settling over me. I slept soundly till about three in the morning.

And then suddenly I awoke with a terrible feeling of dread. It was silent. And then... I was suddenly very frightened. I heard voices in the next room. Where's George? In there. Go to sleep. Good. Let him sleep. Bill. Hmm? The most terrible things happened. The natives dug up Barbara's coffin. They found the body and they drove a stake right through the heart. And that was the end of it, young lady. That's the closest I ever came to the vampires.

A rare breed of South American bat that killed my first wife. And some delirious dreams brought on by tropical fever. I don't know if that story is any use to you, editor. I doubt if it ties in at all with its recent wave of unexplained deaths. But if you come closer, that's it. A little closer. I doubt if these modern scientific types will look at the necks of the victims. I doubt if they'll notice anything.

Those two little punctures on your neck. Did you enjoy the story, young lady? You did? Well, you will come back tomorrow night, won't you? Here, let me wipe that trickle of blood from your neck. Theater 1030 has presented Two Little Punctures by Anthony Lee Flanders with John Scott as George.

Vivian Reese as Barbara, his wife. And Ed McNamara as Bill, his friend. Paul Kligman was heard as Harry. And Neil Leroy as the doctor. Sound effects were by John Sliz. Technical operation, John Skillen. Theater 1030 is a CBC Toronto presentation.

This is Bill Lorne speaking. ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪

Now sliced. Or just the world's greatest dad. We've got all the fun accessories to make your figure come to life. Build the perfect gift at Funko.com. Pop yourself. Visit Funko.com. The thing about Joe is he really is a smart guy. It takes a smart guy to be that stupid.

2000 plus science fiction adventures from the world of tomorrow, the years beyond 2000 A.D. 2000 plus presents The Brooklyn Brain. The Brooklyn Brain

Joe, I want to thank you for a very nice evening. The pleasure was all mine, Clarice. I'd have you come up only if you're after 12 and pause asleep. That's all right. Well, good night, Joe. Uh, Clarice? Yeah, Joe. You had a good time, huh? I mean, really? Good night, Joe. Oh, wait a minute, Clarice. I got something to ask you. No. No what? No kiss.

I gave you one in the helicopter bus. I am not distributing my favors with large jets. Boy, you certainly know big words. It's because I try to give myself culture. Every day in the facsimile newspapers, I do the crossword puzzle. Well, sure, Clarice. I think that's fine. Only I got something to ask you. I told you. That isn't what I mean. Something else? Clarice, will you marry me? I mean, that is... Will you? Yeah.

This is so sudden. Gee, I've known you three years. That ain't so sudden. Well, a girl likes to get proposals, but matrimony, oh, that's a very important thing. It should not be entered into lightly. I got a good job, a good future. It isn't that, Joe. What isn't that? I mean, oh, like they say in psychology. I don't know what you're talking about, Clarice. That's what I mean, Joe. You don't understand things like psychology.

I always read the handy hints for mental health column. It's written by a psychologist. From such pursuits, I have learned that culture is what counts in life or marriage. The partners have to have a mental affinity for each other.

Mental? Take Sam Wittenberg. He knows about music. Or Fred Daniels. He knows about art. Or take Harry Lester. He knows economics. He knows economics? I had a loan of five dollars. What has money got to do with it? Huh? Joe, leave it, not quarrel. Yeah, but I was... You have paid me a very high honor by asking me to be your wife. But I can't say yes.

Oh, you mean... On the other hand, I didn't say no. I can't pretend I don't like you, Joe. You're basically a nice boy. Only if you'd only get some culture, learn about things so we could have something to discuss, to talk about. Art? Music? Economics? Or similar high-class subjects, Joe.

See what you can do. Okay, Clarice. I'll try. And then I'll let you know. Sure. And, Joe. Yeah? In light of the circumstances, I rescind my previous refusal. What does that mean?

It means you can have a good night kiss.

Are you ready, Carl? Yes, Professor. Now remember, after I throw the switch, it will take several seconds for the accumulator to build up. When the red light on the control panel flashes, you throw your contact lever. I understand. All right. One, two, three. It's working, Professor, it's working! Oh, good, excellent. Try it again.

Wonderful, wonderful. All right, Carl, turn it off. Now, I've checked every dial, every meter as the machine was running, and they all coordinated precisely. Then it will work on a human being. Are you sure enough to...

Let me try it on you. Well, it isn't that, Professor. It's just that you kind of need me to help you run the machine. Oh, yes. Yes, I understand, Carl. And since I am the inventor, it would also be foolish for me to volunteer to be the first human guinea pig. Well, obviously, we need someone else to try it on. That's right, Professor. Imagine, 11 years' work.

Here is a machine that takes a tape recording of a human voice reading facts, figures, anything, and transforms it from sound waves into electrical waves.

Then, through electrodes attached to a human head, charging that brain with the wave so that automatically the person getting the electrical shock has information charged into his memory. It will be a boon to education. People won't have to go to school anymore. Your brainwave machine will just charge their brains with anything they want to know. Thank you. Well, there's a lot of experimenting we have yet to do, but...

So far as we can know up to this moment, the machine should work. I hope. Now, uh, whom are you going to try it on? Oh, yes, whom? Well, we'll, uh, we'll run an ad.

We'll try and find someone, not too bright, but someone we can try to transform into a mental giant. Hello? Yes, this is Joe.

We sent him six dozen boxes like he ordered. Ten day billing! Yeah, Charlotte, turn to it right away. Flora, take the letter. The boss ain't got a check from St. Louie and he's mad. It doesn't pay to be mad. It's no good for customer relations. To whom is the letter going? Uh... Dear sir... Uh... Dear sir who? Aren't you feeling well? Gosh, I don't know, Flora.

I guess my mind ain't on my work. Where is it? I'm going to Clarice's Thursday night for dinner. She's your girl. It should make you happy. Be happy. But she's having Sam Wittenberg for dinner, too, and he's got culture. You got a job.

Flory, you're a smart girl. You know how to find things in the files. Tell me, how do I learn about things? How do I get culture? Study. How much time have I got? Thursday is three days from now. What can I learn in that time? Not culture. That's what I mean. I'm licked before I start.

I have a teacher. That's expensive. Just stay a bachelor. But I don't want to. Oh, look. Look, here's a newspaper. I'll turn to the educational section. Let me see. Here it is. Here it is. French. Well, I'm French. What would I do with French? What would you do with culture after you get married? Look, I don't... I'm only trying to be helpful. Go on, Flora. What else is there? Yes.

How to hypnotize in nine easy lessons. Hey, that's interesting. If you learn how to hypnotize, I won't work for you anymore. Oh, let's see, what's this? Be a mechanic. Learn the soul of a machine. Soul of a machine? Crazy. Oh, here's another ad.

Well, what does it say? Let me see. If you would like to learn any subject in the world without effort and are willing to volunteer for a scientific experiment, write to Box 1934, the facsimile time. Hey, I don't like that volunteer for scientific experiment part. But it also says if you would like to learn any subject in the world without effort. Do you...

Do you think I should write them? All you lose is a stamp. Use a company stamp, you'll lose nothing. Okay. So since I'll never get cultured just wishing for it, take a letter. Here, sir. We sign that again?

This, sir, who? This, sir, Box 1934, the facsimile times. In response to your advertisement, permit me to say that I would very much like... Carl, have you read these letters from people who want to volunteer for our machine? All six of them.

Do you think it's wise to take people with such mentality? Well, it would be a good test for the machine. Yes, but almost any change would be an improvement for them, judging from the letters. Whatever else may be said, Professor, the people who wrote those letters are human beings.

Yes, I suppose so. And we need a human being to test with. After all, so far, the only living thing we have used was a dog. Ah, but the dog lived. It proves the machine's electrical charge in the head does not kill. The charge doesn't kill, but does it force knowledge into the brain?

We've named a recording of the Einstein theory into the dog. But the dog can't talk. What good is it to him? But, Carl, doesn't it give you satisfaction to know that because of our invention, there is one dog in this city who actually knows the Einstein theory? Did any dog know the theory before our invention? No. All right.

So we have reason to believe the machine will work. That is why we are looking for a human being, just to be sure. But which one of these letters, which one of these people shall we take? Well, whichever one has the greatest need for knowledge. They all need it.

Yes, but I mean whichever one believes he needs it most. That person will have an incentive to cooperate with us. I see. Well, in that case, this one. Flora, look! I got a letter. They selected me. Congratulations. It says here, please choose your subjects.

Art, music, economics. That's for me. You should also add another subject. How to get St. Louis to pay its bill. That ain't culture.

Who says a lady's gone and business is culture? Gosh, Flora, you know what I mean. Like Clarice says, there's more to living than just having a job. You ever try living without a job? Art, music, economics. I'll show Sam Woodson, boy, he's not the only one who knows those things. I'll show Clarice, too. Should I call the number on this letter and make an appointment for you? Won't you, Flora? Gee, thanks a lot. Okay.

Hello? I'm calling for Mr. Joe Martin. You sent him a letter about... Yeah. Yeah, that's it. Yeah. He'd like an appointment. Today? Oh, Joe, is today all right? The sooner the better. Mr. Martin is in conference now, but I believe it could be arranged. Yeah. Uh, art, music, economics. No, no, you pick one for today. The hill and that's no different. Yeah. Yeah.

Thank you. Well? Here's the address. After 12 o'clock today, you'll have culture. Thank you.

Now, Mr. Martin, if you'll just lie down here on this surgical table. Surgical table? I didn't come for an operation. I came for an education. Oh, and you shall get one, my boy. You shall get one. After today, you'll be an expert on art. You know, painting and sculpture and all that sort of thing. Lie down, please. What are you going to do? Well, you see, Mr. Martin, you have brain waves. I have? Yes.

Everybody has. You see, the brain gives off power, that's why. Now, what we do, well, to describe it simply, is play a recording of some subject you want to learn. Now, the sound waves are transformed into electrical waves and are charged into your brain. The result is, you have the knowledge impressed into your mind. Isn't that wonderful? I just remembered I got another appointment. Mr. Martin, in your letter you said you wanted to show your girl that you could learn things.

Be smart? Get culture? Where do I put my head? Here or there? Your head up here, your feet down there.

Splendid, splendid. Now, Carl, attach the electrodes to his head, will you? Yes, Professor. Will it hurt? You will never know what hits you. I mean, not at all, not at all. Just relax, Mr. Martin. Everything is ready, Professor. All right, Carl. One, two, three. Oh!

Now, now, now, it's just warming up, Mr. Martin. Don't be so nervous. No, sir. Shall I start the recording now? In one moment. You see, Mr. Martin, Carl will start the recording that he dictated this morning, and then I'll charge the knowledge into your brain. You see? Begin the recording. Yes, my fellow.

Among the new school of paintings which have excited modern critics and which are likely to have a profound effect upon future interpretive forms, the new circular school of impressionistic painting is outstanding. And now, for the charge. In blind, vibrant...

How is he, Professor? Is he all right? He's a little glassy-eyed. Maybe we'd better stop the experiment. No, no, no. We'll try it once more. Only speed up the recording so we can charge his brain more quickly. All right, if you say so. Here goes. ...relationships which stimulate the senses and excite the imagination. The secular school manages to get around traditional obstacles of comprehensibility. No lady has fallen for the secular school of impressionistic painting. Now, the charge. Now, the school which has managed to...

That's enough. That's enough, Carl. Shut up the equipment. He is alive, isn't he? I think so. Mr. Martin. Mr. Martin. Wake up, Mr. Martin. He's coming to. What? Oh, what happened? Oh. Is it over? Yes. That's all for today. And I...

And I got culture? So far as we know, everything seemed to work. I got a headache, too. Would you like a glass of water? No, I... I think I'd better go now. I gotta get back to work. So long, fellas. Professor, should we have let him go like that?

Let's look out of the window. Ah, there he is. Just came out of the door onto the street. He's a little wobbly. Maybe a cop will think he's drunk. Frankly, I'm a little worried about him. I wonder if the experiment really worked. I'm worried about him too. Because even if the experiment did work, we speeded the record up so fast...

Good heavens, Professor, what if he ends up talking like Donald Duck?

Oh, Sam, you play the piano so beautifully. Sam Wittenberg is not known as the Beethoven of Brooklyn for nothing. I know exactly what you mean. When Myrtle Baker said you looked like a bum, you never got a haircut, I said it's because you're autistic. You're not getting a haircut, I mean. Oh, excuse me, there's the doorbell. More company? It's probably Joe. That's passion. Now, Sam, don't you and Joe start anything.

Hello, Clarice. Come in, Joe. Nice party. I hope you like it, Joe. Clarice, have you made up your mind yet? Made up my mind? You know Clarice about us. Joe, this is not the place to pursue that question. Well, I just thought that maybe if you... I...

I don't know yet, Joe. Come into the party. Sure, Clarice. Well, well, well, if it isn't Joe. How are you, Joe? Hello, Sam. Sam was playing the piano. Yeah, I heard. Wait.

Read any good books lately, Joe? Well, we're taking inventory at the store, and I've been kind of busy. Yeah, Joe works very hard. A hard head? You gotta work hard, eh, Joe? The only reason you got a soft head is you got so much hair on it, it's like a mattress. But, uh, Clarice says it's artistic. Clarice says it...

Did you say that? Well, I... Joe, I... I meant he looks like an artist. Artists wear long hair. And speaking of artists, Joe, what do you think of the new secular school of impressionistic painting? Well, I... Do you think the dynamism of the blues is more effective than the interpretive qualities of the vibrant yellows? Well, the... Sure, Joe. You're absolutely right. By the way, Clary,

How about you and I go to the Arts Institute tomorrow afternoon? Oh, that's very nice, Sam. Joe. Joe, what's the matter? Sure. Sure, go with him to the Art Institute. Maybe he'll get a job. They'll use him as a hair mop to dust the paintings with. Joe. You want to know what I think about the new Circular School of Impressionistic Paintings? I'll tell you. I think the brushwork of Degaro is infinitely superior to the technique of Martinelli, but that the interpretive approach of both of them is immature. Sure.

- Jao! - You're so smart, Sam Witsenberg! Let me ask you a few questions. Why does Gregory Thompson, a British impressionist, conceive all legendary characters in his paintings as cubistic? Why? Well, it's because, uh... It's because, uh... Because... Because, uh... Why, Sam? I don't know. Sam, you don't know?

You don't know they're cubistic because Thompson is a cubist and not a circular school at all? You didn't know that, huh? But I... You're a blockhead. So you of all people should know a cubist. Now let me tell you something else. The important news in our circles is the recrudescence of 19th century painting with particular emphasis on the portraiture of that period. In fact, I think I will go myself tomorrow to the Art Institute and just look at that 19th century stuff. Would you like to come, Clarice? Joe...

Okay. Now, uh... Oh. Oh, we... We can't go tomorrow. It's Friday. I gotta finish England. Oh, that's all right, Joe. We'll go Saturday. Anytime you say, Joe. Okay. But you only go with me to the Art Institute, you understand? Yes, Joe. So, uh... What are you gonna do tomorrow, Sam? I, uh...

I think I'll get a haircut. Hello, Flora. All ready for a morning's work. Where's that file from St. Louis? You feeling all right, Mr. Martin? Great. Like a million dollars.

All from culture? Flora, you should have been there. I was so smart, the words were so big, even I couldn't understand what I was saying. That's some education you got. Science is wonderful. Imagine those professors doing what they did to me. They shoot me full of brain waves. One minute I'm a dope, and the next minute I'm an exploit on... On... Art? Music? Economics? Which one is it? I...

I don't remember. That's not good. Let me think. Sam was there. Art. It must have been about art because tomorrow I'm taking Clarice to the Art Institute. If you're gone there, you really must have said something. I know, but I can't remember what it was. Flora, ask me some questions. Maybe it'll come back to me. Why do you like pictures? I don't know.

Yesterday I saw a picture in a magazine. It looked like four soap boxes in a junkyard. It was called Sunset in Hawaii. The magazine said it was a cubist picture. Does that make sense to you? No. Couldn't you explain it even if you couldn't understand what she was saying? No. You need another shot in the head.

Yeah. Yeah, that's right. Flora, call the professors and make me another appointment. I've got to take Clarice to the Art Institute tomorrow. And I can't remember anything at all.

Now, now, now, Mr. Martin, please don't be so nervous. Just answer my questions. But she's my girl. I'm finally making progress and this has to happen. Yes, um, Carl, put on the recording again. Let Mr. Martin hear it. Yes, sir.

a lot to go for comprehensibility. Among the leading exporters of circular school of impressionistic painting, Degaro and Martinelli are perhaps best known. Another school which has managed to retain some influence on contemporary trends despite the vigorous onslaught of the Impressionists,

Is that joke best exemplified by the work of Gregory Thompson, who was an impressionist? Yeah, now, you remember that, don't you? I don't remember it, and I don't understand it. But we charged your brain with that information. You charged it, you tried to collect it. I don't know where it is. Um, Carl, I'd like to talk to you alone for a moment. Excuse us, Mr. Martin. Yeah, sure. You're, uh...

You're sure the machine worked properly when we experimented on him? When I dismantled the machine this morning, everything was perfect. But what could have happened? Apparently, it makes only a brief impression on the brain, about 24 to 36 hours. Oh, that's terrible. What's terrible about it? At least we're on the right track. In a year or two, we'll perfect it so people can remember all the time. People...

People learn things even if we don't perfect the machine. But what I most regret is there's no longer a dog in the whole world who knows the Einstein theory. Well? I'm sorry, Mr. Martin, but obviously the experiment wasn't as successful as we had hoped it would be. Then give it to me again. Professor, I just gotta know about art. I'm taking Clarice to the institute tomorrow. Couldn't you take her to a movie instead? But I'm not afraid anymore.

Put those things on my head again. Give me a man bolt. I like it. I like it. Well, I'm afraid that's impossible. You see, we dismantled the machine. What? We're moving it to a laboratory upstate. It will take at least a month until we put it together again. A month? But tomorrow... I'm sorry, Mr. Martin. Clarice won't marry me now.

Thank you.

Oh, hello, Joe. You're right on time for our trip to the Institute. I'm so excited. Come in, Joe. Hello, Clarice. We'll see all the pictures and you'll explain them to me, won't you, Joe? Clarice, there's something I want to tell you. Yes, Joe. It's about my culture.

about what I said about art the other day. Oh, Joe, you were wonderful. I thought Sam Woodson would break a drop dead. You know what? After you left, he said you knew more about art than anybody he ever knew. He said that? And you were so masterful when you told him you were taking me to the institute. I was? Oh, Joe. Joe, I got something to tell you. You have? I made up my mind.

Joe, don't you understand? I made up my mind. I accept your proposal. You mean you...

You'll marry me? That's right, Joe. You've got culture. We'll have a mental affinity. Clarice, listen. Let's get married right away, today. Let's not even go to the Art Institute. I can leave an absence. We'll go away on a honeymoon for a month. A month? A whole month. And then when we get back, then we've got time for culture. I promise you, after one month, I will absolutely be charged with culture. Joe, this is so sudden.

and so romantic. Oh, but I don't have a trousseau. I need clothes. Look, look, I work in the ladies' garment business. I'll go to the store. I'll get you all the clothes you need. Only let's get married and not go to the art institute. Oh, Joey, you're so smart. You think of everything. I do? I'll bet you even know the Einstein theory. Oh,

Next week, 2000 Plus presents a thrilling melodrama of adventure and terror. Be sure to listen. 2000 Plus is produced by Dreyer and Winolson Productions, Incorporated.

In today's cast, Bryna Rayburn portrayed Clarice and Flora, Gilbert Mack was Joe, William Keene was Sam, and Mercer McLeod was the professor. The orchestra was conducted by Emerson Buckley, music composed by Elliot Jacoby. Sound, Walt Shaver and Adrian Penner. Engineer, Ed Formica. This is Ken Marvin speaking.

This program came from New York. Betty Lou Gerson and Gerald Moore in...

I'll always remember that party. The music, the sparkling chandeliers, the swishing gowns and bright uniforms, and the circle of diamonds glowing around my throat. On that night, I met the unexpected. The unexpected. A secret future, a hidden destiny waiting for you.

Where? When? Who knows? Tomorrow? Today? An hour from now? Perhaps in just a moment, you too will meet... Before our story, here's a word from our announcer.

Ladies and gentlemen, the producers of The Unexpected are honored to bring you a special broadcast starring the distinguished radio personalities Miss Betty Lou Gerson as Marie and Mr. Gerald Moore as Philippe in a radio adaptation of the greatest story of The Unexpected ever written. Guy de Maupassant's The Necklace, Paris, before the turn of the century.

A gay, light-hearted Paris, filled with the scent of chestnut blossoms, the whispers of secret lovers, the laughter of children. A younger city, unaccustomed to the bitterness of tears. Along the Champs-Élysées, smartly dressed women promenade like birds of paradise, nodding to each other, chattering, lifting their long skirts away from the dusty cobblestones. ♪♪

But leaning against a lantern post, a small, bent woman in a shabby homespun dress presents a dreary contrast to this colorful scene. She sighs, runs a work-worn hand across her eyes, and then, smiling suddenly, steps forward to accost one of the gilded passers-by. Jeannette? Jeannette, wait a moment. I'm sorry, madame. I think you must have the wrong... Aren't you Jeannette Forestier? Why, yes. Yes, I am.

I was sure of it. How odd that we should meet today. You're still quite as lovely as you were ten years ago. But, madame, you are... Marie Loisel. Don't you remember? Marie? Oh, no, it's impossible. Why, you've changed so. It's been ten years, Jeannette. But you were so young and so beautiful. I simply can't believe that... Ten years is a long time for some people.

Oh, my dear. What has happened? Is Philippe... He's quite well. Then... I can tell you now. It's all over and I can tell you. These ten years I've hidden in doorways when you pass so that you wouldn't see me, so that you wouldn't know. But now it's over and I can share my secret. But what has this to do with me? Jeannette, since our last meeting, I have grown old and tired and ugly because of you. What? You and your horrible necklace.

I don't know what you're talking about. Remember that afternoon ten years ago when I came to your house on the Avenue Claiborne and begged a favor? Such a very simple favor. Remember, Jeannette? Remember. No, but of course you can have anything of mine you like, Marie. My jewels are there on the dressing table. Just take your choice. I suppose I should feel guilty borrowing from you, Jeannette, but I don't, not a bit.

I shall try to convince myself the stones are really mine... and that Philippe and I are rich at last... and the ball is being given for us. Foolish child. Honestly, you act as though you hadn't a sou to your name. Well, we haven't. That is, not compared to you. Oh, we make out well enough on Philippe's salary... but when I look at your house and your wardrobe and your jewels... In fact, I'll tell you a secret, Jeanette. If it weren't for the ball this evening... I wouldn't even have a new dress for the season. I told Philippe I wouldn't go unless he gave me money for some clothes. Blackmailer. Well, what else can a young wife do...

Oh, Jeannette, this is a lovely pin. Take it. No. No, I don't think it quite suits my gown. Perhaps the pearl bracelet would be better. I don't know. What's this? Oh, how exquisite, how lovely. Do you really think so? Well, of course, it's the most beautiful diamond necklace I've ever seen. Well, then it's all settled. You shall wear the necklace at the minister's ball. Oh, Jeannette, Jeannette, you're the most wonderful friend. How could I ever... Oh, darling, I'll never forget what you've done for me. I swear I'll never forget it. So I wore the necklace to the ball, Jeannette.

And I had a wonderful night. Philippe and I danced till dawn and fell in love all over again. And then we walked home just as morning was poking grey fingers through the glistening streets. And the sun was painting the river with fire. My heart was still dancing as I flung my cloak on the chair, seized my mirror and pirouetted with it in my hand and then... Philippe? Yes, darling? It's gone. The necklace is gone.

What are you talking about? I've lost Jeannette's necklace. Can't you understand? I've lost the necklace. Nonsense. You had it when we left the party, I remember. Then where is it now? Where? Where? Why, perhaps in the folds of your cloak. No. No, it isn't there. Well, then your dress. Or in the hallway. Quickly, to the hallway. Quickly. Don't get excited, Marie. It's bound to be about somewhere. It's not in my dress, Philippe, or in my bag. I have lost it. I know I've lost it. I don't see anything out here. Don't worry, Marie. I'll go back over the street. You must have dropped it as we came home. Yes. Yes, Philippe. You'll find it. You must find it. You must. You must.

I couldn't tell Jeanette our diamonds are lost. What would we do? Hurry, hurry, find the necklace. The clock was striking four as Philippe left. He said he'd be back in half an hour and told me to go to bed. But I couldn't rest. I sat in the stiff back chair listening to the loud ticking of the seconds. At first, I was hopeful Philippe would find the necklace. In a few minutes, he'd be standing by my side, smiling with the diamonds glittering in his hand. But then, as the hours passed...

My hopes died one by one, and I began to die a little with them. Paris was so big, and the necklace was so small and so very precious. It was nearly ten in the morning when Philippe returned. His eyes were red and sleepless, and there were dark shadows underneath them. He moved slowly, painfully. Already in one night, he was older. You didn't find it? No, no, not yet. I've been to the police, advertised in the papers...

By tomorrow, we should know something. What will I tell Jeanette? Anything. The clasp has broken. You send it to be repaired. Anything at all. Just so we have a few days' time. The days that followed were made up of endless searching hours, but still the necklace was missing. By the end of the week, I knew it was never going to be found. But then one evening, Philippe hurried up the stairs and into the apartment. Marie. Marie.

Marie, where are you? What's happened, Philippe? I found a necklace. Oh, where, Philippe? Tell me where. In a shop at the Palais Royal. Oh, you mean you found another necklace like the one I lost? Of course. It's exactly the same. Here, give it to your friend. But, Philippe, how much did it cost? How can we afford to pay? 35,000 francs. Oh. I gave the shopkeeper the 18,000 my father left me. The rest I borrowed here, there. Darling, we'll never be able to return the money. We'll never be able to get out of debt. Do we have any choice? I...

I guess not. Then here, take these wretched jewels to Jeannette. Pray that she won't be able to tell the difference. That she'll never know. And you didn't know, did you, Jeannette? I brought you the black leather jewel case and trembled as you opened it. But you only glanced at the clasp that supposedly had been repaired and chided me for taking so long to return it. After that day, Jeannette, I learned what it means to be really poor.

Philippe had given notes, committed himself far beyond his income. He'd mortgaged our lives. We gave up our apartment, took a shabby room in an attic. I learned to cook and sew and carry garbage down six flights of stairs. Philippe worked day and night, bookkeeping, copying papers, anything to raise a few francs. And I, too, added to the family income, doing washing. Even your silk, Jeannette. And still we were poor and hungry and cold.

You can have no idea, Jeannette, how much we hated you. But now, today, it's all over. It's all over. And I'm old and coarse and shabby. And Philippe? Philippe, his hair is white and his eyes are tired. Always his eyes are tired. Oh, my poor darling. No. No, don't pity me. It doesn't matter. Not anymore. Because this very day, the debt has been paid in full. Principal interest, accumulated interest, all of it. All of it.

Our lives belong to us again. And we're free at last from the curse of that horrible neck. You think the story is over, don't you? But wait. Wait for... But now, here again is our announcer. And now, Betty Lou Gerson as Marie and Gerald Moore as Philippe in the surprising conclusion to Guy de Maupassant's The Necklace.

A drama of the unexpected. This very day, the debt has been paid in full. Principal interest, accumulated interest, all of it, all of it. Our lives belong to us again. And we're free from the curse of that horrible necklace. Marie. Oh, my poor Marie, how can I tell you? The necklace that you borrowed that evening, the one you worked for ten years to replace, it...

It wasn't made of diamonds, Marie. My necklace was practically worthless. It was only paste. You have been listening to The Necklace by Guy de Maupassant. It starred Betty Lou Gerson as Marie, Gerald Moore as Philippe, and featured Ida Rees-Marin as Jeanette. It was adapted for radio by Robert Libet and Frank Burt and directed by Frank K. Danzig. The Unexpected is produced by Alvin C. Gershenson.

Now, this is Hal Sawyer inviting you to listen again soon when another of your favorite stars meets... The Unexpected. The Unexpected is a Hamilton Whitney production transcribed in Hollywood. KMA 907, Sacramento Police.

Unit 99, are you in the clear? Unit 99 to KMA 907. Unit 99, Sergeant Meredith, 909, in service, on the air. This is Sergeant Dan Meredith of Unit 99 at Headquarters, Police Department, City of Sacramento, California.

My detail is to ride in Unit 99, our tape recorder-equipped radio car, and to respond whenever the dispatcher transmits a signal to one of our other units on duty somewhere in the city. At the scene, we make the recordings which we provide for this program. Now, to tell you more about Unit 99, here is our chief, James V. Hicks, Sacramento Police. Unit 99 is a regulation radio patrol unit of the Sacramento Police Department.

cruising the streets with a tape recorder. Sergeant Meredith is on duty and works for your protection, as every police officer does. He can and does make arrests. His orders are to respond to the radio call. You go with him, and what you hear is real. Police, criminals, victims, and witnesses are all real. And whether an arrest is made or the subject released, what happens is real. Make no mistake about that.

Now to Unit 99 and Sergeant Dan Meredith on duty. Unit 58, 901 16th and Q Queen. Check 58 came in on 7. Traffic, Unit 58 just received a 901 16th and Q Queen. Officers Tinker and Raff, we're following behind them now. The car in the intersection is a Buick sedan.

The one on cue between 15th and 16th near the crosswalk is a Ford Model A, about a 29. There's quite a bit of gasoline spilled here.

Rotor is strong and it's all over the intersection. What did you say, Raph? I have the fire department coming over to wash down the gas in the street. I see gasoline. I see a lot of gasoline all over the street here and it's very dangerous. Hello. Are you one of the drivers? Yes, I am. Anybody hurt? My back is a little stiff from the jerk. I was driving the front car there and I was waiting for the light to change. He ran up and snagged me in the back. Where is this other driver? I have him in the car.

How does he look, Brad? Well, he has an injured nose. I believe he's intoxicated. Okay, Brad. What happened here, fellow? I just couldn't stop. Do you have brakes on your car? Oh, fairly. Have you been drinking tonight? I had a very good, yes. How much have you been drinking? Not that much, no. What do you mean? I came through the green light down there. 15th Street. 15th Street.

and i came up here and that guy just didn't move that's all he was stationary and you struck him in the rear right uh-huh you're at 58 to cam in 107. you send a tote truck 16th and q queen pick up a ford that is correct you call tinker

All right.

Don't... Can't do it. Well, you make me scared. Oh, well, you relax. We don't want to make you scared. Well, you make me scared. Why should we scare you? I don't know. Where I'm going. You should be scared without us. No, you make me scared. You're stopping me and... Here I am. And which one?

If that's good enough for me, we better take him down and have the doctor examine him, too. Are you going to put him in your unit? Will you take him down for us? Yeah, we'll take him down, Tinker. We'll wait for you down at the airport, the other fella, too. How about his car? Are you going to take care of his car, too? Yeah, we're going to take care of his car, too. Where have you been drinking tonight? I took a drink in my car, and that's about all. You have some drinks in your car? No, there's no drinks in my car. Well, how did you take a drink in your car?

Well, we was down at the club. Well, that's where you got them. Mm-hmm. But I haven't done anything wrong. Well, you're driving while drinking. Well, I mean, I haven't done... I mean, I made a wrong move. Well, should you be driving while intoxicated? Well, I was in right in the corner. You didn't answer my question. Well, okay. You want to sit in the back of that car there? Okay.

This is the emergency hospital. Just go right in there. Right there, sir. Hello, doctor. Possible 502. Check. What's the date today? It's after 12. It's 9.30. It's 9.00. I'd read the time off my watch. About two minutes after 12. Okay.

Have you been to a dentist or a doctor today? By today, I mean the second. No. The past 24 hours. Do you have sugar diabetes, sir? No. Have you taken any medicine in the past 24 hours? No. Have you been drinking? Yes. When was the last drink you had? Ten minutes, 20 minutes ago. What have you been drinking this evening? Whiskey high, I guess.

Do you have any physical disabilities that you're aware of that might interfere with your coordination or your ability to drive? I don't think so. Okay, stand easy with both your feet together so that your shoes touch heel and toe together. Pull the toes together a little closer. That's fine. Now just stand like that with your shoes touching. With your feet together, hold your hands out in front of you like this. Now with your feet still together and your hands out, close your eyes, please.

Subject is sweating slightly. Sit over here in your chair again. Put your arms out from your sides like I'm doing now. Now I want you to reach up and touch the end of your finger to the end of your nose like this. All right, that's good. Now you just sit easy and relax.

Doctor, could you give us the findings on this driver, your examination? I'm afraid the findings show that this man's been drinking a little bit too much and should not be driving a car. The wagon crew has just brought a victim into the emergency hospital who has just been shot. Carol, Beatty, where'd you pick this man up? This man was picked up at 3rd Street.

You know how it happened? We do not know the information as yet. Was he shot in the back? Apparently he was shot in the back. Do you know who did this to you? Say, do you know who did this to you?

You don't know? Don't you have any idea at all? I don't think we're getting any. I think we probably ought to get him out to the county where they can get some blood transfusions ready for him. Give him the help that he really needs.

The doctor is about to examine the driver who was involved in the accident at 16th and Q.

How old are you? 39. What's the date today? I think it's the 31st. Or the 1st. Must be the 1st. Okay. Take the time off of my watch, please. 12.24. That's right. That's right. Have you been to a dentist or a doctor in the past 24 hours? Yes, sir. For what? For a dentist. What time of day was that? It was 10 o'clock today.

10 o'clock today. Did he give you any medicine or any drugs or gas? He gave me Novocaine. He gave you Novocaine. Did he give you any capsules or anything like that? Did he give you any pain medicine to take when you left the office? No. And no prescription? No. Have you been drinking tonight? Had a couple of beers. When did you do this drinking? An hour ago.

Alright sir, now I want you to stand over here on this floor right where those two lines cross. Facing toward me over here. Do you see that crack in the cement in the face? You need to be real careful now and do a good job of walking right down that line with your heels and toes both on the line. Heels and toes both on the line. Oh, I failed. Give me another chance. Sure. I'm not too good on this field.

All right, now turn around. Walk back, take it slow and careful, and do a good job for yourself. That's not bad. All right, now stand right there, nice and easy. Raise one foot up off the ground and stand on the other one like I'm doing. I want to see if you can balance for a minute. For a minute? Mm-hmm. That's a long time, isn't it? Okay, switch feet and let's see how you do on the other side. Good, I am.

Okay, stand with both your feet together like this so that the shoes touch heel and toe. Pull them right in together. That's it. Now hold them like that. Hold your hands out in front of you like this. Now your feet together and your hands out. Close your eyes. I want to watch your balance like this now. All right, that's fine. Now come and sit in your chair again please. Well, let's take about a teaspoon full of blood out of your arm and send it to the laboratory and let them analyze it for alcohol concentration.

No, I'll go by your findings, whatever you decide is best, except that I don't think I've had too much to drink. I really don't. Well, if that's the truth of the matter, then the blood alcohol could be in your favor, and you could perhaps have a grounded argument that your coordination is due to some other problem. Well, I'm not going to argue. All right, all right. Well...

Yeah, I just don't want a 502 against me, is all I can say. Well, the way things stand now, you have one, I think. And the only way I can offer you to so-called beat the rap is to show that your blood alcohol concentration is not high and that your lack of coordination could be due to something else. Now, if that's the way you feel, this could be to your advantage. So I'd be happy to do it for you. Well, I think it's fair to say that you have something to gain and nothing to lose.

All right, let's do it that way. Fine, slip off your jacket and roll your sleeve up and go ahead and take it. Incidentally, doctor, what is your conclusion on this? Well, I think this man shows incoordination that, in my opinion, is probably due to drinking. I'll have to say that unless the blood alcohol test proves it to the contrary. Then, in your opinion, this man shouldn't be driving a car? Yes, sir. That's right.

They just brought some fellow into the emergency that might have something to do with this shooting. Officer Devery just brought him in. Let's get in on it. He knocked me down and then he kicked me in the face and I jumped up and run up the stairs around...

and down the back stairs and he followed me, see? But I know them stairs and he didn't know and he run the wrong way and then he had to turn around and go back and I got ahead of him then. I run down the front and we're out and I got to the office door and opened the door. When he come back out the hall he had a knife in his hand.

He said, "I'll kill you now." I said, "No, you won't." I said, "Back up!" And I pulled the gun out. And he said, uh... He wouldn't stop. I told him three times to stop and he didn't stop. And I just... Just like that. I stopped him. Well, how's all this going?

Over him knocking on that door. He ain't got no room up there. He wasn't staying at the hotel. He'd just come up there and... You know, after the saloons closed, they come up there and want to put on a wine party. You see, in some other guy's room. You should go up there and tell them to leave while they get tough. You are the landlord there? I'm the night clerk. Night clerk. Yeah. Yeah.

And I walked upstairs to see who was pounding on the door. And I said, it happens all the time. And I asked this guy would he leave. I said, don't wake these fellows up. They're working men and they want to sleep.

He was grumbling and growling and he followed me downstairs. When he got right there to the door, he decided he was going to give me a licking, see? And the door of the office was closed. And I couldn't get in. Is that how you got your face and your head marked up? Yeah. He knocked me down first and he kicked me right here. The side of the face. Yeah. And I jumped up and he hit and missed.

And I run, I turned and run upstairs, up the stairs, and down the end of the hall and down the back stairs. And he missed the, there's a real hook like that going into the downstairs, see? When he missed that, he went straight ahead. That was upstairs, up in the roof. So he had to turn around and come back. By the time he got turned around, I was ahead of him, see? And I come down and around the hall and into the office, and I opened up the office door.

And he comes there and pulled this knife and he says, "I'm gonna cut you up," he says. I says, "No, you ain't." Well, he had this knife in his hand and I told him to stop and he wouldn't stop, so I stopped him. And I shot three times, yes. Where did you get the gun? I had it for 30 years. On your person at the time? No, it was in the desk drawer. And he was coming at you at the time you shot him?

Okay. How old are you? Huh? How old are you? Fifty... Fifty-six.

A detective Nugent, what are you going to do with this man that did the shooting? Well, right now we're going to take him up to the detective bureau. We've called for a deputy district attorney to come down and question him immediately. Devers, how did you happen to contact this suspect on this day of the shooting? Well, we arrived at the scene where the man was laying in his face down on top of the stairway and a night clerk was there and

He admitted that he'd wanted to shot him. Said he'd shot him in self-defense. I see. We're in the detective division. Officer Morrison, I see you have two citizens here. What are they here for? Well, these two fellows were in the hotel at the time of the shooting. And they heard the man come up from the hotel, raising trouble, pounding on the door. They were awakened from their sleep and walked out in the hallway at the time of the shooting.

Were you fellows living in this hotel at the time? Yes, sir. About four doors from where I had to go. He started knocking on the door. Uh-huh. Oh, and the night clerk got up and come up and told him to keep quiet or go out one. And so then he jumped the clerk.

And the clerk started going downstairs and asked him to come on out. So he followed the clerk down and then jumped the clerk. He ran to those flight of steps. Then he ran the clerk from that floor back up the steps, banged down the back steps again. Then the clerk made it to the office and got his pistol. Did you see a knife? No, sir, not until I came downstairs. You saw this other man beating the clerk? No, sir. I just only heard it. I only heard it.

You didn't see anything? No. But you knew that this other man that was shot was causing a lot of trouble? Yes, he was the one doing all the babbling on the building. And this other gentleman with you, who is he?

Oh, he lives in the same hotel, too. Did you hear this, Frankis, tonight, too? I was stumbling, you know. I could stumble. I was sleeping. I was being sick, you know, my stomach. And I heard somebody running by my bed, to the back. And then...

Come back and I'll be doing a picture of the door and I saw this man, you know. And then he got close to the office and he said, I got something to kill you, you see. That's all I want. Sergeant, we found the knife that this fellow was using. We found the knife on the fifth step from the top floor, but it was closed at the time. And when we arrived, the man was lying flat on his back with a bullet hole between the shoulder blades. And the ambulance crew came and got him and removed him.

And at the time, I talked to the clerk of the hotel, and he said at the time, the man had threatened him with a knife and came towards him. He fired three shots, which we found one bullet hole in the wall and the empty lead part of the shell was lying on the floor. And we only found one hole in the body at the time. Is this the gun over here on the desk? Yes, this is the gun. It's an Ivor Johnson five-shot pistol. What caliber? .38 with three empty shells.

You take a beer out of that? Who? Oh, County Hospital, yes. Well, we don't have any information on that as yet. The only information we have to date is that he's a visitor in town. Well, just as soon as we get that information, we'll let you know. Yes, yes, we'll do that. Thank you. Who was that, Weber? Well, that was the County Hospital. They were inquiring...

As to whether we had any information on his relatives, she said he's in bad shape. This all happened within an hour or so at the Hall of Justice. The shooting victim survived. It was the decision of the district attorney's office that the hotel clerk fired the shots in self-defense and he was released without charge. Both drunk driving suspects were close to the borderline, but in the doctor's opinion, neither should have been driving automobiles and both were charged and fined for the offense.

I might point out that the man who was involved in the accident took his sobriety test under a handicap. It was discovered later that he had a broken kneecap, although at the time he was unaware of it. This is Unit 99 in Sacramento, California. These on-the-scene tape recordings were provided by the Sacramento Police Department and were made on duty by Sergeant Dan Meredith in Unit 99. Your host is Chief James B. Hicks of the Sacramento Police Department.

Unit 99 was directed by Tony Kester and came to you from Sacramento. Unit 99 to KMA 907. Unit 99, 908 coming in. End of tour. Check 99 to KMA 907. Dark venture. Over the minds of mortal men come many shadows. Shadows of greed and hate. Jealousy and fear. Darkness is the absence of light.

So in the sudden shadows which fog the minds of men and women are to be found the strange impulses which urge them into the unknown. Dark Venture. And now the American Broadcasting Company presents Carl Harburg in The Man in 206. I paused on the threshold of room 206.

Inside the room was the killer, playing the piano in the dark. I struggled to hold my nerves in check, alone in the house with him. My fingers closed around the small axe as I slowly turned the doorknob. And then, as it is with a drowning man, everything that had happened these last few weeks, everything that had brought me to this door, flashed through my mind. MUSIC

For me, it all began that night the reporter came. The fourth murder in the neighborhood had occurred only the night before, and the papers were full of it. They were calling the killer the executioner, and they said he killed only the helpless. I read all this as I sat in the lobby of my rooming house, and the thought wouldn't leave me. Could it be Frasier?

Could it be the man in 206? Oh, I was letting my nerves run away with me. I was letting my hatred for Frasier warp my mind. It was just that everything was falling apart and I couldn't stop it. I remembered how grateful I'd been when Aunt Martha had willed me this rooming house. A chance to make something of my life. Sure, a fine chance. In less than a month, I was on the verge of bankruptcy. Three more tenants had left me today, and all because of Frasier.

The outside door opened, and a young man came in, shaking the rain from his hat. Good evening. Good evening. What can I do for you, sir? I don't know. That sign on the door intrigues me no end. How's that? The sign that says vacancy. I didn't think they printed signs like that anymore. Oh, you want a room? Yeah. But I also want a story. A big one?

My name's Martin. I'm a reporter on the Globe. A reporter? Yeah. Every day on my way to the police station to hear the latest exploits of our friend, the executioner, I pass this rooming house. Every day I see that strange little sign. Vacancy. I'm afraid I still don't understand. In this city, hundreds of good, solid citizens are living in chicken coops and garages. All-night theaters or streetcars because there's no place else to live. Yet, here in their midst is a vacancy. But...

No one accepts the vacancy. Why? Well, most of my guests are transients. They come and go. So I always have a vacancy. That's all there is to it. In times like these, why do they come and go? Now, look here. Your place looks clean enough. I don't imagine your rates are too high. Look, if you want a room... And also, why are you so upset? There must be a story here. Let my fellow reporters worry about the executioner. I'll tell the story of the vacant rooms. But I tell you there isn't any story. As I said... Yeah, yeah, I know what you said.

I also saw how pale you got when you said it. Look, I'm very busy tonight. When you came in, you said you wanted a room. Do you want it or don't you? Sure. I'll take a room. Make it for a week. Or do you think that's long enough to find out what drives people away? I really shouldn't have rented the reporter a room. But with so many of my rooms vacant, I just couldn't afford not to.

After I'd showed him to his place, I decided to see Inspector Garland. After all, he'd been living here in the rooming house for the last eight years, and though I didn't know him very well, Aunt Martha had always considered him her prized tenant. I went down the hall to the inspector's room. I had to talk to somebody. I was desperate. I was desperate.

Come in, come in. Inspector, I'd like to speak to you, if I may. Oh, Mr. Wilson, come in. Don't tell me I've forgotten to pay my rent again. Oh, no, it's nothing like that. Don't be bashful to tell me, man. I've got no memory for details. Your poor aunt was always hemming and hawing, trying to get her money without embarrassing me. Inspector Garland, it's not the rent. I need your advice. Advice? Yes. What am I going to do about him? Him? Why?

I don't understand. Well, Mr. Frazier, of course. The man in 206. Mr. Frazier? I don't think I know him. What about him? Well, didn't you hear him last night? Uh, I've been working nights for the last three weeks trying to find some trace of this...

the newspapers call the executioner. You'll have to bring me up to date. Well, this Mr. Frazier, he must drink or something. He usually comes in after midnight and begins to pound on an old piano I have up there till he's wakened the whole building. Because of him, I've lost every one of my old tenants except you, Inspector. Well, for Pete's sake, why don't you tell him to leave? Well, that's just it. I've never even seen the man. What? My housekeeper, Stella, rented the room to him a week before I came. He paid for two months in advance and no one's seen him since. But

But if you'd been here at night, you'd certainly have heard him. Did you ever try leaving him a note, ordering him to behave himself? Yes, last night. I left a note in his door. This morning, the note was torn to shreds. Well, I guess the only thing I can suggest is to wait until the next time he creates a rumpus and then call one of our boys to come in and arrest him for disturbing the peace. Inspector, I'm afraid to wait until next time. Huh? Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it's just my imagination. But...

Yes? Each time Frasier's gone into one of his rages, there was a murder reported in this neighborhood. The next day, I think Frasier... Frasier might be this executioner. And your housekeeper is the only one who's seen Frasier? Yes. All right, come on, let's talk to her. You won't say anything about what I suspect. It'll only upset Stella. No, I won't say anything. Ah, here's her room.

Stella, it's me, Mr. Wilson. Come in, Mr. Wilson. Oh, Inspector Garland. Why are you packing, Stella? I was just going to tell you I'm leaving. Leaving? But why? I'm not at all well, you know. I've been under a doctor's care for the last five years, and now this excitement. Well, it's just too much. You mean Frazier, Stella? Him and that killer, too. I'm sorry.

I'm worried and frightened all the time. It's just too much. Well, where are you going? To my sister's place. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson, before you took over Advert for your Aunt Martha, God rest her soul, for eight years. But I've got to think of myself. But I'm trying to get rid of Frazier. You'll never get rid of him. Why do you say that, Stella? That's just how I feel.

Oh, I'm just a bundle of nerves, that's all I am. You're the one who rented Frazier's room, aren't you, Stella? Yes, I'm sorry to say. It was just a few days after Martha died, and Mr. Wilson hadn't come yet to take over the place, so I was in charge. Did he seem like the kind of fellow who would carry on like this? Oh, no, he was real nice. Paid two months in advance, gave me a good tip when I showed him his room...

He seemed fine. When was the first time you heard him go into one of these rages? Oh, please. I told my sister I'd be at her place in an hour. I've just got to finish packing. Stella, Inspector Garland is trying to help me. I'm at the end of my rope. Now, please tell him what you heard. Well, all right. I'll tell you about the first time I heard him. It was just about ten days after he'd moved in. I'd gone to bed early, like I usually do, and it wasn't long before I was found asleep.

First, I didn't know what had awakened me. Then I realized it was somebody playing the piano. I looked at the address o'clock. Why, it was almost two o'clock in the morning. I put on my robe and went to the door. It was Mr. Higgins, one of our tenants. What kind of a place do you people run here? Listen to that racket. How are people supposed to sleep? Where's it coming from? That new guy, Frazier in 206. Well, I'll go tell him to stop. Yeah, do that. He's got the whole building awake.

I hurried down the hall to 206. There was something so wild about that piano playing, it kind of gave me the creeps. Now I'm standing in front of the door. Mr. Frazier, Mr. Frazier, I want to see you a moment. Suddenly the piano stopped. Then I happened to look up at the transom and I realized there was no light in the room. He'd been playing in the dark.

Then I heard him walking real slow to the door. The strangest feeling came over me. Everything was suddenly so quiet. I looked down the hallway. All the doors were closed. Mr. Higgins had gone back to his room. Mr. Fraser had unlocked the door. My heart started pounding frantically. But why should it? Then the door started to open.

But I couldn't see anything except the darkness of his room. Suddenly, I turned and started running down the hall. That's the way it happened to me.

I can't explain why I ran away, even today. But I just couldn't stand there. I just couldn't. All right, Stella, all right. That's why I've got to leave. My nerves aren't what they used to be. Maybe after I rest up for a while at my sister's, maybe I'll be all right. You see what he's done, Inspector? I've got to get rid of him. How many times has something like this happened, Stella? I've heard him play like that four times, and always the same song. But

But after that first time, I've never gone to his room again except to clean it twice a week during the day when he isn't there. The room's down the hall, isn't it? Yes. You got a key? Yes. Come on. Let's take a look at it. Wait. Mr. Wilson. What? I don't want him to hear. Well, what are you talking about? I'll be leaving in a few minutes, but when I get to my sister's house, I'll call you. Coming, Mr. Wilson? I've got something to tell you. What? You'll hear from me. Well, are you coming? Yes. Yes, I'm coming. Come on.

It's a Fraser's room. Yes. Nice piano. The place looks all right. Where does that door go? A small dressing room. It's part of Fraser's place. Why is it locked? Oh, it shouldn't be. Got a key to it? Yes, I think so. It's right on this ring here. This one should open it. Let's look inside. Good-looking clothes. He must have money.

What's this bundle in the corner? Looks like dirty clothes. Look at this shirt. Blood. And these trousers. All bloody. Then I was right. It is Frazier. He is the killer. Maybe. Maybe not. I'll have to have the blood analyzed. But if we wait until he comes back, it may be too late. Listen. Come on. It's him. He's come back. Hello, gentlemen. Martin.

What are you doing in this room? Didn't I tell you? I'm a frustrated Paderewski. How come I don't have a piano in my room? Haven't I seen you around headquarters? Aren't you a reporter with the Globe? That's right, Inspector. I'm also a fellow tenant in Mr. Wilson's establishment. Does this room hold a mystery? What mystery? Of the little vacancy sign. Or maybe of the executioner.

There you go getting pale again, Mr. Wilson. I was terribly upset. But I tried not to show it until after the reporter and Inspector Garland had left.

Most of my life, I bummed around the world doing everything imaginable. Steve-a-dore, clerk, worked in nightclubs, everything. I was in a hospital clear across the country, recovering from a barroom brawl, when I'd learned I'd inherited the rooming house. It was like a godsend. And now this rightful thing was happening. And if I didn't make a go of my rooming house, I'd be right back where I started. Then, at about 11.15 that night, the phone in the lobby started ringing. PHONE RINGS

Hello. Hello, Mr. Wilson. This is Stella. Oh, yes, Stella. I told you you'd hear from me, remember? Yes. What did you want to tell me, Stella? I wouldn't want to say it over the phone, Mr. Wilson. Well, then why didn't you tell me before? I couldn't. Not with the inspector around. I don't understand. I lied to the inspector. That night when all the noise was going on, I did see something in Mr. Frazier's room that I didn't want to tell about. Why? I didn't want to tell him.

Because I don't think I really understand it. What did you see? Well, like I said, I don't want to tell you over the phone, Mr. Wilson. You come over to my sister's house and I'll tell you. But there's nobody here to watch the place. Just the same, you come along, Mr. Wilson.

It's 354 Westover Place. It's only about a mile. Oh, well, all right. 354 Westover. There's not much doing here. I'll be over in half an hour. Fine. I'll wait up for you. And don't you tell Inspector Garland you're coming. Understand? Yes, yes. I understand.

But after I'd hung up, two people came in for rooms, and I was busy with them. And then it started raining again, and I couldn't walk through the rain. I tried calling a taxi, but there weren't any available. And when I looked at my watch again, it was after midnight. Then I tried calling Stella to tell her I wouldn't be able to make it that night and not to wait up for me. But I didn't know her sister's number. At 12.30, I went to bed, and I couldn't fall asleep from all the excitement. I was so excited, I couldn't sleep.

I finally got up and took some aspirin. And within minutes, I was dead to the world. Huh? Wilson! Wilson! Yes? Yes? Wilson, open up! Oh, all right. Just a minute. Come on, Wilson. Hurry! Inspector Garland, what's wrong? There's been another killing. Only this time it strikes home. What? Your housekeeper, Stella. She was found on the porch of her sister's house. Strangled. Shh!

After Inspector Garland told me about Stella, I told him about her phoning me earlier and saying she'd seen something unusual in 206. Then the inspector wanted to see the rooming house register. I took him downstairs and he thumbed through the pages till he found what he wanted. William Friday, here we are. Registered November 2nd. And the first of these killings was around then, wasn't it? Yeah. Home address, Spokane, Washington. Business salesman. Not much help. No.

There was an address in California. Maybe we could trace him. But we don't have any description to go on. Stella's the only one who's ever seen him. Wait. It's that reporter. I don't want him to know we suspect Frazier. Say that Stella Falvin, the woman who got killed tonight. She worked for you, didn't she, Mr. Wilson? Yes. Why do you suppose she was murdered? Well, I'm sure I don't know.

Looks like the work of our friend the executioner. Inspector? Perhaps. Being a reporter's worse than being a milkman. My paper sent a kid over here at 3 o'clock to wake me up and have me cover this killing. A fine life. Trouble was, I'd just fallen asleep about an hour before. You didn't tell me about these piano recitals, Mr. Wilson. Piano? Take it easy. When I saw you two in room 206, I figured it was vacant. It is vacant. Uh-uh. No. No.

Some guy was inside 206 hammering on that piano. And I mean hammering. Is that what chases all the tenants away, Mr. Wilson? I told you. Yeah, I know what you told me. Well, I'm going to hit the hay for a while. I'm dead. He's gone to his room. Come on. Let's go upstairs to 206. Quick. You think Treasure's in there now? There's a chance. Give me your passkey. Come on.

He's not here. But he's been here. Look at this room. Torn to pieces. Yeah. Now, look. I don't want that reporter to know about Frazier. If he finds out about him, he'll plaster the story all over the front page of that paper hit. Ah, I guess that doesn't matter anymore. Oh, but it does matter. Frazier's some kind of a nut. I'll bet anything on it. And he'll be coming back to this rooming house if he doesn't find out we're wise to him. Do you think so?

You're getting a guest tomorrow. A guest? I'm planning a man in this house to watch a day and night. And one of these nights, if we're lucky, we're going to hear that piano again. But we didn't hear the piano again. And Inspector Garland didn't seem to make any progress finding Frazier.

I checked with all the California police, Chief. Any luck? None. He's not wanted for anything. That's a cinch. Maybe he uses a false name. Maybe. Well, that makes it even better. You sure he's never come back to the room? I'm sure.

Well, I guess we'll just have to keep waiting. I lost all interest in the rooming house. I wasn't able to hire another housekeeper. Although there was no more piano playing, one by one my other tenants left me. I'm checking out, Mr. Wilson. Prepare my bill. Yes, Mr. Higgins. This certainly isn't the same kind of rooming house your aunt used to run. I'm sorry, Mr. Higgins.

Finally, the only tenants left were Inspector Garland, the policeman he planted in the house to watch for Frazier, and Martin, the newspaper man. I see you took your vacancy sign down today. Yeah, I'm thinking of closing my rooming house. Looks like I'm not going to get my story after all, Mr. Wilson. Yeah, it looks that way, Mr. Martin.

I placed the rooming house up for sale and started cleaning the rooms and getting everything in order. And it was while cleaning Frazier's room that I made a discovery that sent me running to Inspector Garland's room. Inspector, look what I found. What is it? A snapshot? Yes, a man and a woman. And look what's written on back. Huh?

Bell and William Frazier, stocked in California, 1940. Where'd you find it? It was in one of the dresser drawers underneath the paper Stella had used to line the drawers. This is what I needed. We're going to find Frazier at last. That was three days ago. Then tonight at about 10.30, Inspector Garland got a telephone call. He was out. He'd been gone all evening. But the policeman he'd planted in the house took the call, and when he hung up, I could see he was pretty excited.

When Garland comes in, tell him I went to headquarters. Tell him he'd better get down there, too. Something happened? Yeah, they just located your roomer, William Fraser. You mean they've arrested him? Not exactly. His wife just came down from Stockton and identified his body. His body? Fraser checked into your roomy house on November the 2nd, didn't he? That's right. Well, on the night of November the 2nd, he was killed by a hit-and-run driver. I don't understand. Why, we were waiting for him to start playing that piano. He's been lying on a slab in a county morgue waiting to be identified. Then Fraser...

Couldn't have been the killer. You're catching on fast, Mr. Wilson. After the detective left, I was all alone in the rooming house. I locked the front door and went up to my room. My head was pounding. It had never been Frasier. Frasier was dead, that's all I could think. I stretched out on my bed in the darkness, my mind searching for an answer. If it wasn't Frasier, who was it?

Why had I ever accepted this rooming house? Why had I ever come to this place? Why... The piano. For a moment I thought my imagination was playing some crazy trick. I clamped my hands over my ears to see if the music was in my head. No, it was real. The killer had returned. And there was nobody in the house but me. I don't know how long I crouched on the bed. I was terrified. What was I going to do? The music went on and on.

Then finally I couldn't stand it any longer. I was going to see who was playing that piano. I was going to find the killer. But I needed something to protect myself. I remembered the tool cabinet in the service closet in the hallway. I left my room and hurried over to it. I snapped on the light, and there on top of the cabinet was what I wanted, a small axe. Then I started for room 206. I saw through the transom that there was no light in 206.

He was playing the piano in the dark, just as Stella had said. Now I was standing before the closed door. My nerves were at the breaking point. My hand closed around the doorknob. I turned the knob ever so slowly. The door was unlocked. I gripped the axe so hard my fingers ached. Then quickly I flung open the door and snapped the light switch. You! Are you shocked, Mr. Wilson? You killed those people. You're the one they're looking for. This should make you a big man, Mr. Wilson.

But what are you going to do about it? I'm going to call the police. The telephone's downstairs. Do you think I just wait here while you call? Then I'll stay here with you until Inspector Garland comes back, and I'm warning you, don't try anything. Is it okay if I play the piano? Why did you kill them? They were all so helpless, so defenseless. Maybe I couldn't help myself.

Maybe I didn't even know I was the killer. Maybe it was a sickness in my head. They've got a name for that, you know, for a guy who kills and doesn't know he kills. It's called schizophrenia or something like that. And if a guy gets overtired or too excited, he can get an attack, even from something as simple as a song. You killed Stella, too. She was a good woman. She'd worked hard all her...

Must you play that same infernal tune over and over again? I like it. It's got kind of a strange rhythm to it when you think about it. Hasn't it? I don't care about its rhythm. Just stop playing it. Listen. It kind of gets inside you, doesn't it? You're trying to confuse me. That's what you're up to. I hear you once played the piano at nightclubs. I asked you to play something else. Yeah. I hear this tune was your introduction number. I don't know.

I hear you were playing it that night you got hurt in the brawl. It's a good song. What are you doing? What are you trying? What are you doing to me? I'm just playing the piano, that's all. I tell you, stop. Stop that song. Stop it, I tell you, stop it. Hey, hey. Take it easy. I'm stuck. We were all alike. Always trying to outsmart the little guy. Always trying to destroy the sick and the helpless. But you were right.

But you can't outsmart me, can you? I don't let you get away with it, do I? I don't let you trample the helpless into the dust. I bring them rest and sleep. I bring them peace everlasting. It's your kind who hurt them, but you won't hurt anyone anymore. I'm going to kill you like I killed all the others. He's dead, Inspector.

I'm sorry I had to do it that way. Why are you sorry? Isn't it best for him? Yeah, maybe it is. For a minute there, I thought you were going to stay in that dressing room until he scalped me. It was the only thing we could do. I had to get a confession. When did you first suspect him? When I found out he was the only one in the rooming house who'd never heard the music. And, of course, when I found out that Frazier had been dead all along. But I had to prove it. Why do you think he killed Stella?

Stella had called him and told him she'd seen something in 206. You know, that sickness he had is a strange thing. He had an attack that night. And though he became a completely different man, he still remembered Stella's call and was afraid she'd seen him. So he went and killed her. Kind of makes you feel woozy, don't it? Yeah. You know, after this, people are going to start saying I'm nuts, too.

What do you mean? From now on, every time I see a vacancy sign, I'm going to run like the devil. Over the minds of mortal men come many shadows. Shadows of greed and hate, jealousy and fear. Darkness is the absence of light. So in the sudden shadows which fog the minds of men and women are to be found the strange impulses

which urged them on to their venture in the dark. Dark Venture is written by Larry Marcus and directed by William T. Johnson. Next week at the same time over most of these ABC stations, we'll bring you another original story from the land of the shadows. In tonight's Dark Venture, Carl Harbert was heard as Eddie.

Ben Alexander as the reporter, Herb Butterfield as the inspector, Leora Thatcher as Stella, and Harry Lang as the policeman. John Lake was the narrator. Original music by Basil Adlam. During the war, members of the armed services brought or sent to the United States from various theaters of war captured enemy firearms, such as machine guns and machine pistols.

Some of these weapons have subsequently fallen into the hands of the lawless element and have been used in committing robberies and murders as well as other crimes. They constitute a serious hazard to effective law enforcement. The National Firearms Act requires the registration with the Bureau of Internal Revenue of any firearm from which a number of shots or bullets may be discharged with one continuous pull of the trigger. This is an appeal to the good reasoning of the possessors of trophy firearms.

For the protection of your families and society in general, it's your duty to register the firearm and have it rendered inoperative. Don't delay. Just write to the Commissioner of Internal Revenue, Washington, D.C., who will have a representative assist you free of charge. This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company. The Weird Circle, in this cave by the restless sea.

We are met to call from out the past, stories, strange. Bellkeeper, toll the bell, so all may know we are gathered again, the Weird Circle. Welcome to the Ogden's Playhouse for another Weird Circle story. Tonight we are to hear a classic mystery tale from the pen of Elizabeth Gaskell.

This is an unusual story in every sense of the word. Just as Ogden's fine cut is an unusual tobacco on every count. Ask the smoker who rolls his own cigarettes with Ogden's. There's an unusually fine taste and aroma to Ogden's. Try Ogden's and sample its goodness for yourself. You'll find Ogden's easy to roll, delightful to smoke. Yes, easy to roll, delightful to smoke.

And now tonight's Weird Circle story, The Old Nurse's Tale by Elizabeth Gaskell. Out of the past, phantoms of a world gone by speak again the immortal tale, The Old Nurse's Story. Hear that? That tapping on the windowpane?

Yes, I know, tonight it's the wind knocking the apple tree branches against the glass. But long ago, we in the big house heard that rapping, and it was not sound made by wind, nor by any mortal means. I, Hester, have been nurse for many years to this house of Thurnvale. I spend my days remembering, remembering and reliving the past.

I recall how Miss Maud and her sister, Miss Grace, were the prettiest young ladies in this countryside. Their father, Lord Fernvale, paid little attention to the motherless girls. So wrapped up was he in music, which was his hobby. And so, when he invited Tony Sorrento, a fine young musician, into the house as his guest, Lord Fernvale was blind to the court Mr. Tony paid to both the sisters.

I remember like it was yesterday, for I was only in the next room sewing. I remember when Miss Maud turned on Miss Grace. Look here, Grace, somebody's got to wake you up. You're acting awfully silly with Tony. You're positively moon-eyed. Oh, am I? Anyway, I don't giggle at the least thing Tony says the way you do. Grace. Oh, Maud, let's not quarrel. I've wanted to tell you something for a long time, but I've been afraid you'd laugh. Promise me you won't laugh. I couldn't laugh looking at your serious face.

What is it, little sister? I'm just terribly in love, Marty. And Fonda's going to have a fit, but I can't help it. I'm just awfully in love with Tony. Oh, Grace, this will never do. Tony, Tony's no good. Don't say that. Don't say it. And if there's anything you know, don't tell me because it's too late. Grace! Oh, it's Fonda. Please don't tell him anything, Mark. Please. Girls, girls, where are you? Here, Father, in the library. I wonder you wouldn't answer before I yell my lungs out.

Maybe you two are ashamed to face me. Oh, I know what's been going on around here. Nothing. Nothing's been going on, Father. We don't even know what you're talking about. Oh, don't you? Well, the whole town knows. Neither of you seem to care if our name is subject for the back-fence gossips. Get to the point, Father. What have you heard? It's public knowledge that my guest, Tony Sorrento, has been courting both my girls.

setting two sisters against each other. And you, you silly, stupid girls without pride or dignity, permit this trifling nobody, this musical dandy to make sport of you. Don't talk that way about Tony. He hasn't been courting both of us. I suppose, Grace, you think you're his heart's desire. Father, don't be cruel. But, Grace, Father's right. Tony has been making love to both of us. Don't tell me. I won't listen. I don't believe it. You've got to believe it, you little fool.

Anyway, I've sent Tony packing bag and baggage. You'll never see him again. You what? Where is he? Where did he go? You've got to tell me. I've got to go to him. Grace, Grace, use your head. Oh, listen to me, both of you. Tony and I were married yesterday. Married?

That cheap fortune hunter married to my daughter? I'll not have him join to our family. But, Father, I'm his wife and your daughter, and he is your son in spite of you. Oh, in spite of me, indeed. Not if I renounce you as my daughter. Get out. Get out. Get out of my house, and don't ever come back. If death had taken Miss Grace away, we in the house couldn't have mourned her more sincerely.

Soon Miss Maud married, and we believed it was to get away from the gloomy place and from her father, rather than for love. Lord Thurnvale's temper turned more hard and bitter after that, lashing out at nothing at all.

And then, one winter evening, after Miss Grace had been gone about six years, I was at the big house visiting in the kitchen when my husband rushed in, telling us Miss Grace had come back and was at that moment standing at the front door. With her was a pretty little girl. We tiptoed, for we were only human, you understand. We tiptoed to the hall door to listen.

But Lord Fernvale's voice would have reached us anywhere. We heard Miss Grace say, Father, I've come back. Let's both of us forget our grievances. You must be mistaken, young lady. I am not your father. I have one daughter living. Her name is Maud. Another daughter, Grace, died six years ago. But I didn't die, Father. I am Grace. And this is Angelita, your granddaughter.

We'll be warmed up in a moment, dear. I have no granddaughters. And only one daughter alive who married suitably and well. You've come to the wrong house, young woman. Oh, father, you haven't changed at all. But if you don't care about me, think about Angelita, your granddaughter. Look at her, father. She looks just like you. I'm not interested in a child, nor in you. You must not persist in this madness that I am your father. I tell you, my daughter Grace is dead. All right, father, if that's the way you want it.

But don't forget I'm your daughter. And I, too, can be hard and revengeful and mean. And I swear to you I'll hurt you some way. Somehow. I won't rest until I make you suffer. I'll make you suffer. You'd better hurry to the village. You may be in time to catch the late train. Good night. We all stood like stones. So frozen we were by what we'd heard.

It was a cruel night for a woman and a child to be walking to the village, for there was a bitter wind rising and snow was beginning to fall. My husband wanted to sneak out the back way and find Miss Grace and the little one and hide them in this cottage here, but the master must have guessed our intentions, for he called us in and gave us all tasks to do just to keep us busy and thwart our plans. When we'd finished, we thought Miss Grace and her child had surely reached the train by that time.

But in the morning, as I walked across the back hillside pasture where the sheep graze, Timothy the shepherd called. Hester! Hester! Come here! Quick! What in goodness name is it, Tim? Here! Look! Look behind the pine tree! Against the rocks! Oh, merciful heaven! It's Miss Grace and the little one, frozen like statues. I heard about them coming to the big house yesterday.

They must have got off the road and got lost in the blinding snow last night. Oh, Timothy, it's awful to see them sitting there. I can just imagine how Miss Grace and the little one groped their way up the hillside and thought they'd take shelter behind the pine tree against the rock. Oh, the poor lost things. Mind you, Hester, how the big rock is just like a stone chair for her and the little one. Well, maybe their souls have...

Peace and rest now. I wonder, I wonder after all that's happened and the way they died, I wonder if their souls will ever find rest. We never knew how the master felt about the tragedy, but it was plain to all he was a softer man after that. Though whether it was the death of Grace and the child, or good news that came within the week, or both together that changed him, it's hard to say.

For Maud gave the house of Fernvale an heir, the Master Robert. Lord Fernvale was fairly bursting with happiness and pride. He couldn't do enough for the boy. Lady Maud often brought Master Robert to visit at the house, and we all agreed he was an uncommonly fine, bright boy. We'd nearly forgotten the tragedies of the past, but we were soon to be reminded of them with awful clearness.

When Master Robert was going on six years old, Lord Fernvale sent word to my cottage for me to come to the house and see him. Esther, my daughter Maud and her son Robert are coming to stay several months this winter with me. Her husband has business in the Far East. I would like you to act as nurse to the boy. Oh, sir, I'd be very pleased. Master Robert's such a sweet child. Robert's the only heir to carry on our family name.

I want you to take very good care of him. Oh, indeed. I shall care for Master Robert like he was my own son. Hester, I'm an old man. I want peace now. I want Maud to be happy here. She's never been told about the death of Grace and the child Angelita. We Fernvails are not very forgiving. I can't say how Maud would react if she knew the circumstances under which her sister and niece died, but...

What's past is past, and I can't change it now, Hester. I want you to promise me you won't ever speak of grace and of past events. Please don't say another word, sir. You can be sure I won't speak of what's none of my business. How could I know that this would soon become very much my business, and that I would be tempted to break my solemn word to the master?

Indeed, we were all so happy the first few days Lady Maud and young Robert were with us that it hardly seemed possible our household had ever been anything but happy. And then one day, I was playing a game with Robert on the library floor, and his mother sat knitting and smiling at us when we heard a tapping, a light tapping on the window. I doubt Robert's mother or I would have noticed the sound, but Robert dropped his toy and looked toward the window.

I bet that little girl's come to play again. I can't see her very plain. Little girl? I didn't know there were any children around here. Oh, there aren't any, ma'am. There's not even a house within three miles of us. Yes, that's true. What little girl would be walking three miles in the snow just to see you, Robert? I don't know her name yet, but I see her most every day. She stands outside the window and knocks like that till I notice her. And then when I go, I can't find her anywhere.

You hear that? You just wait. In a minute you can see her. You'll see her pain. But if she's knocking on the window, why can't we see her now? I don't know. She comes and goes. Just like a shadow. What does a little girl look like, Robert? Oh, she's just a girl. She's awful cold, though. She just shivers and shivers. There she is. See me? Hospital.

There's a little girl right outside the window! Well, friends, as Elizabeth Gaskell's absorbing story unfolds, we shall see that young Master Roberts seems headed for an undeserved fate because of his grandfather's unreasoning cruelty. We shall see, too, that the appearance of the little girl at the window is only the beginning of a chain of events of startling nature.

But now, let's talk of the chain of events that lead to complete smoking satisfaction if you roll your own cigarettes. The first step is a visit to your tobacconist and the purchase of the handy green package labeled Ogden's Fine Cut. From there, the process is a smooth series of adventures in smoking enjoyment for the roll-your-own-cigarette-smoker. Just try the rich goodness of Ogden's. It's roll-your-own-smoking-satisfaction-at-its-best.

See how uniformly Ogden's rolls into a cigarette of fine consistency, a superior smoke every time. The popularity of Ogden's has been attained with good reason, for Ogden's is your guarantee of consistent high quality. Try Ogden's. You'll find Ogden's easy to roll, delightful to smoke. Yes, easy to roll, delightful to smoke. And now back to our story.

Grace Fernvale enraged her father by an unsuitable marriage. When she returns with her five-year-old daughter, Angelita, Lord Fernvale insists Grace is dead and refuses to let them enter. Grace screams that somehow she will make her father suffer. The following morning, the bodies of Grace and the child are found in the back pasture, frozen like statues. Lord Fernvale's other daughter, Maud, has married and her small son, Robert, is loved by his grandfather.

Robert tells of the shadowy figure of a little girl he sees outside the window who beckons him to come to her. Maude, Robert, and his nurse hear the tapping on the window, but only Robert can see the little girl. There she is! See her? It's a little girl right outside the window. But I don't see anyone, Robert. Where do you see her, Robert? Where is she standing? Back in front of the window.

Mommy, I want to go out and bring her in so she can get warm by the fire. All right, Robert, bring the little girl in. Oh, ma'am, don't let him go out there, please. Can't you see? There's no little girl outside the window. There is. Hester, I'm going to prove to Robert that the little girl he thinks he sees is imaginary. Now, run along, Robert. Put on your coat and go bring in that cold, shivering little girl.

She wants me to hurry up. Say, Mommy, you know something? The little girl looks a little like you. Well, goodbye, Mommy. Goodbye, Hester. I'll get her. Oh, saints preserve us, ma'am. Now I'm sure of what I'm sure of. What are you sure of, Hester? Oh, I can't tell you, ma'am. That's what I thought.

Hester, the people around this countryside believe there's a ghost up every chimney. I was half frightened out of my life by the ghost stories I heard when I was a child. Now, I don't want Robert to believe those old superstitions. But how do you account for the knocking, those taps? I can't account for them right at this moment, but if I took the trouble to investigate, I'm sure I'd find some logical, reasonable explanation. Well, if you'll excuse me, ma'am, I want to run out and see that Robert's all right. Wait a minute, Hester. I'll go with you. We'll all three of us look for that little girl.

Robert's mother and I got outside the house quickly, and we followed Robert's little footprints in the snow to outside the library window. His mother said, Well, here are just Robert's footprints. There are no others anywhere around. That's how I thought it would be. Come now, Hester. Don't make a mystery out of nothing. You see, Robert's footprints lead around to the back of the house. He's probably gone to the kitchen to beg a sweet from the cook. Yes, ma'am, I see.

I think I'll follow on around if you don't mind. I think I do mind. I don't like the fear and hysteria in your voice. Robert will sense it, and then he really will imagine he's seeing things. Go in the house, Hester. I'll get Robert. It seemed hours I waited in the house. I remember I went from room to room, pressing my face against each window, looking, looking for Robert. I could hear his mother calling, first softly with confidence, then louder and louder.

Finally, I knew she was frantic and afraid. I thought of Grace's last words to her father. I won't rest till I make you suffer. I'll make you suffer. Cold fear like pencils clutched my heart as I thought of little Robert, the only heir to the family of Fernvale, and how through him terrible vengeance could be wrought. Finally, I heard the front door slam and voices in the hall.

Father, father. What's wrong, Maude? Father, I can't find Robert. I followed his footsteps to the back of the house, but then I lost them. So many people have been walking there. Oh, now calm yourself, Maude. The boy can't have gone far. Where was Hester? Why wasn't she with him? Oh, it was my fault. All my fault. I wouldn't let her look for him. But call everybody now. Everybody. Get everyone out to look for Robert. I got ready as fast as I could and joined in the search.

And I started straight for a certain place I knew so well. For I had notions of my own about where Robert could be found. But I'd only gone a few steps when Lord Fernvale saw me and called.

Hester! Hester, where are you going? To the back pasture, sir. Wait a minute. I'll come along. Why would Robert wander over to this rocky, lonely place? I don't think Robert wandered alone, sir. What do you mean, Hester? Don't ask me, sir. You'll think I'm crazy. Wasn't it here somewhere that Timothy found Grace and her child, Angelita? Yes, it was. We've only a few steps more to the pine tree in that rock that's shaped like a chair. Oh, come on, sir. Hester...

Do you believe that curses and threats can be effective after death? I don't know, sir. There's some who claim they've known of such things, but I'm sure I don't know. Around this way, sir. Around the tree. Yes, yes. Oh, there he is. Oh, little Robert. Look at him. Sleeping. Sleeping on the very rock that's like a chair. Great heavens, is he alive? Is he breathing? Mommy. Mommy.

Oh, he's alive. So cold. So cold. Here, wrap him in my coat. I brought a blanket. Esther, are you... Here we are, Maude. Come around the big pine tree. We found Robert. Oh, thank heaven. How did he get here of all places? And what's happened to him? He's unconscious. Auntie Grace. Auntie Grace. Where's Aunt Jolita? My sister. Robert didn't even know he had an Aunt Grace.

And who's Angelita? Pay no attention. He's a bit delirious. It's just a strange dream. Yes, a very strange dream. Esther, run ahead and get the doctor. For days and nights we fought for Robert's life. In his delirium, Robert kept up a running conversation with Aunt Grace and Cousin Angelita. First with one and then the other. And Lady Maud asked me so many questions which I dared not answer. Or I'd promised the master.

We took turns sitting by the bed, and as I sat alone one night with Robert, I thought what a terrible power hatred is. For I had no doubt but that Robert had been led to the stone chair where the bodies of Grace and Angelita had been found, and that he had been led there through the hatred and vengeance of Grace. And then I thought, doesn't love too have power? Indeed,

Aren't we taught that love is greater than hatred? In fact, greater than all else. And then I said aloud, Grace, Grace, don't hurt Robert. He's never harmed you. Let the child go. Let go of your hatred. What's done is done. Forgiving is a happier way than hating. Listen to me, Grace. Forgiving is a happier way than hating. And true as I'm sitting here,

From that night on, Robert turned for the better. In a few weeks, he was up and about, his bright little self playing again. And I was not surprised when soon after Robert's recovery, his mother came here to the cottage to see me. Hester, I've heard rumors and whisperings at the house, and I've overheard things in the village. I know something about my sister Grace has been kept from me. I want you to tell me what it is. I thought you'd asked me that before long, but...

I promised your father never to speak of it. What's past is past. Why not let it be? Because I think I have a right to know. Strange things have happened and I won't understand them. Now why not ask my father to release you from the promise of keeping silent? Will you give me your word to hold no grudges? No matter what you hear, will you promise to be forgiving? Yes, Hester. I promise. Then I'll go back to the big house with you and speak to your father. I'll get my coat. Hester...

Do you notice there's a strange light in this room? A red glow. Oh, ma'am. Look. Look out the window. There's fire in the big house. It's the reflection we see. Robert. Robert's in the house. Oh, come on, Hester. Quickly. We must save Robert. We must. We must. We ran as fast as we could across the snow-covered lawns to the big house. But by the time we got there, it was a mass of shooting fire.

It seemed to me that if anyone were inside, he could never get out alive. In front of the big house, men were trying to hold someone back.

It was Lord Fernvale struggling desperately. Father! Father! Let me go, you fools! Let me go, I tell you! Hold on now, sir. It's hopeless, sir. There's Robert. Robert's inside. I've got to go. Let me go! Father! Father, it's no use! Nobody can stop me. Let go of me, you fools! Oh, heaven help him. There he goes. Father! Father!

That's the end. The end of this house. Yes, the house crumbled and fell, burning to the ground. And the head of the proud family of Fernvale died with it. For he had rushed in to save Robert and had perished there. We thought Robert had perished too.

But as we stood there, fairly paralyzed with grief and shock, we heard Robert's voice. Oh, Robert! Robert! Oh, child! I can't believe my eyes! You're not real! Oh, the Angelita isn't real. She told me she isn't. She couldn't even light the fire. What do you mean? What do you mean, dear, light the fire? Oh, she came to the window again, and I asked her in to get warm.

The fire was on, so I tried to make a big light in the fireplace with papers and things. Go on, go on, child. Then what happened? Well, Angelita said she wasn't real and she couldn't help me. So I did it all by myself.

But, Mommy, some way your shawl that was on the chair by the fireplace got a burn on it, and then the shawl lit up the curtain, and just everything began to burn. What did you do? How did you get out? Oh, I wanted to stay and see it, but Angelita made me run. We got out through the French windows and ran up the hillside where Angelita's mommy lives in the snow. And Hester...

Auntie Grace said I was to come back and tell you something. Robert, your Aunt Grace doesn't live anywhere near here. Dear, you mustn't make up stories like that. Let him tell it, ma'am. Let him tell it. Auntie Grace said she's sorry for what happened, and she says she doesn't hate anybody any longer. What is Robert talking about, Hester? We'll have a talk later, ma'am. I guess now this family can live in peace without fear of vengeance and old hatreds.

Oh, yes. Auntie said I must never forget some words. She said I must remember that forgiving is a happier way than hating. Oh, Robert. From the time-worn pages of the past,

We have brought to you the old nurse's story. Bellkeeper, toll the bell. Life has many an unexpected surprise. The touching climax in tonight's presentation of the Ogden's Playhouse is an excellent example. So too is the pleasant surprise awaiting smokers who roll their cigarettes with Ogden's fine-cut tobacco for the first time.

It's a surprise that means smoking satisfaction. What's more, it's a happy surprise you can enjoy with every cigarette rolled with Ogden's fine-cut tobacco. Try a package. You'll find Ogden's easy to roll, delightful to smoke. Yes, easy to roll, delightful to smoke. Next week at this time, another Weird Circle mystery play, The Middle Toe of the Right Foot by Ambrose Bierce. Join us, won't you?

If you smoke a pipe, try Ogden's Cut Plug. It's a cool, fragrant smoke. It's a delight in a pipe.

Thanks for listening! If you like what you heard, be sure to subscribe so you don't miss future episodes. If you like the show, please, share it with someone you know who loves old-time radio or the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do! You can email me and follow me on social media through the Weird Darkness website.

WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can listen to free audiobooks I've narrated, get the email newsletter, visit the store for creepy and cool Weird Darkness merchandise. Plus, it's where you can find the Hope in the Darkness page if you or someone you know is struggling with depression, addiction, or thoughts of harming yourself or others. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.

I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me for tonight's Retro Radio, old-time radio in the dark. Career changers, including veterans and active duty service members. Your transition starts here. Go from GI to IT in a matter of months. Become a certified cyber warrior with training at My Computer Career. Cyber security specialists are in high demand, offering IT pros great opportunities and a rewarding lifestyle while protecting our people, liberty, and treasured institutions from cyber threats.

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An Entire Village Is Haunted By A MAN WITHOUT A BODY! | Paranormal & True Crime Old Time Radio! 04:47:43 Share

Weird Darkness: Stories of the Paranormal, Supernatural, Legends, Lore, Mysterious, Macabre, Unsolved

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An Entire Village Is Haunted By A MAN WITHOUT A BODY! | Paranormal & True Crime Old Time Radio!