CURSE ON CAPE HOWE: A Werewolf On The Island – Where Can You Run?
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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 I've narrated, plus 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, foreman of this crew of mysterious miscreants who mingle here at this hour. It was King Alfonso X of Spain who modestly remarked, Had I been present at the creation, I would have given some useful hints for the better ordering of the universe.

I'm sure that many of us feel, with all due respect and in all modesty, that we too might have made some helpful suggestions of our own. But since none of us was consulted in the arrangement of the world, we must accept it as it is. Or must we? Shall I help you upstairs with your luggage? You do have luggage. Oh, my luggage? It's outside. It...

In the street...

Somewhere in the United States. I lost it. Well, the fact is, the bus lost it. Well, how could a bus lose luggage? I don't know. It was placed on the bus when I got on. It was missing when I got off. Well, perhaps it was removed by mistake at another stop. The bus made no other stops. Now, the passenger might have taken it by mistake. I was the only passenger. No, no. The bus lost my luggage. We simply have to accept that. The End

Our mystery drama, The Cornstarch Killer, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Sam Dan and stars Robert Dryden. It is sponsored in part by Greyhound Package Express and Buick Motor Division. I'll be back shortly with Act One. ♪♪

The boarding house has become a most familiar literary locale, and it is always, almost always, presided over by a landlady.

Seldom, if ever, do we encounter a landlord, except perhaps as an inferior appendage to a dominating spouse. Since the ladies have, in our time, invaded hitherto basically masculine domains, turnabout is only fair play. Today, we are concerned with a gentleman who happens to be a landlord of a boarding house. Turnabout.

Turn with us now to the first page in the Journal of Dennis Truffle. Have you ever waited for death?

What a rather ridiculous question. We all wait for death, don't we? But in the prime of life, I suppose we wait for death as an eventuality, not as an impending occurrence. But here I am, starting my story at the end instead of at the beginning. The beginning. It was a rather damp, foggy November night.

A moment, if you please. Well, good evening. Thank you.

I rang your bell. I heard. It's the most unusual bell for this day and age. This is the most unusual day and age. I agree. To begin afresh, I rang your bell because a sign, a rather neatly lettered sign, said rooms. Do you like the sign, then? I wonder if I might speak with the landlady. I'm sorry, we don't have one. Will the landlord do? I'm flexible. Oh, won't you come in?

Mr. Dennis Truffle at your command. I am Miss Menhaden. Maud Menhaden. Menhaden? It's the Indian name for a fish. Oh. Narragansett Indian. The name was given to a convict ancestor of mine. A convict ancestor? Yes, a murderer. You see, many of our early settlers here were transported felons.

Evidently, my ancestor must have looked like a fish. Hence the name. Now, is that settled? Well, I was not aware that it was ever an issue. Concerning the room. I have an excellent room at the head of the stairs. I'll take it. Well, surely you wish to see it first. No.

Oh, the rent is $35 a week. How much? $25. No, $35. Sounds right. Oh, then shall I help you up with your luggage? What's that? There's a police car, I should imagine. It seems to be coming this way. Yes, yes, I would assume so. Why? Well, unfortunately, the neighborhood has changed. Help!

Stopped here? Why? Uh... Uh... Hey, excuse me. Hiya, Dennis.

Oh, Officer Paderewski. Is something wrong? Yeah, we had a little contretemps up the street. That's contretemps. A guy was murdered. Do they have any idea who... So I thought I'd drop in here and check out some of your creeps, Dennis. Now, see here, Officer Paderewski, that's no way to refer to the... You do have some real ripe avocados in this joint, Dennis. Now, I will not have my tenants insulted.

Okay, Dennis. Okay. Who's around? Well, unfortunately, we have more vacancies than we... Presently, the second floor rear, I have Professor Boniface. Where is he right now? I... Out. Out where? Out.

communing with nature, I suppose. And the second floor front, I have just acquired as a tenant of Miss Maud Menhaden here. Miss Menhaden, this is Officer Paderewski. Please do not look at me in that way, officer. In what way?

With lust. Oh, I... Well, I wasn't looking with... What I am doing is looking at you closely. For what reason? Because that's what a police officer has to do. Why? Because there's been a murder. Are you saying that you suspect me of committing the murder? Oh, no, no, no. Can I have the key to my room, Mr. Truffle? Yes, of course. To answer your unspoken question, Miss Menhaden...

Am I related to the famous pianist? I am sure of it. Here's your key, Miss Menhaden. Now, I say this because I have a little boy who plays the piano. Thank you, Mr. Truffle. Good night. Good night. Of course, he only plays by ear. Yeah. That one is built.

Built, constructed, put together. Ooh, there's a lot of woman there. She does seem to be of generous proportions. What's she doing in a joint like this? Well, I assume she requires refined surroundings. Sure, sure. Well...

Dennis, keep me posted, huh? Yeah, I gotta hustle around, see if I can't catch that killer. Uh, who was the victim? Oh, guy was the manager at the bus depot. You're just up the block.

He was on his way home from work. And it happened a half hour ago, you say? Uh-huh. A half hour ago, I was in my sitting room with Chapman's Homer. Oh, come on, Dennis. You don't need an alibi. And a fellow human being was being stabbed to death. Hey, yeah. Hey, hold on, Dennis. Huh? All I told you was a guy was murdered. How did you know he was stabbed?

If it happened just up the block and the killer had used a gun, then I would have heard the shot, I dare say. Yeah, good thinking, Dennis. See you around. How did I know the victim had been stabbed? My quick, glib explanation to Officer Panderewski may have sounded convincing, but the fact is, it wasn't true.

It's just that the moment I heard of the killing... instinctively, I knew it had to be a stabbing. Why? Tonight, for the first time... I'm aware of a kind of lightness... a kind of incisive understanding... a sharpness in my brain. I can't analyze it. It seemed to enter my mind when Miss Menhaden entered the house...

Miss Menhaden, that reminds me. She had gone upstairs without her luggage. Miss Menhaden, a rather large woman, but so exquisitely... Well, that was neither here nor there. I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss Menhaden. Yes? Do you require assistance with your luggage? Yes.

My luggage? You do have luggage. Oh, my luggage. I didn't see you bring it in. Is it outside? Yes. What? You mean you left it in front of the house? No, I mean it's outside. Outside?

Somewhere. Somewhere? I lost it. How? Well, the fact is, I didn't lose it. Actually, the bus lost it. How could a bus lose luggage? I don't know. It was placed on the bus when I got on. It was missing when I got off. But surely the people at the bus company... I don't like the people at the bus company. But there is some official at the bus depot who could... Oh, yes. There was. Well, what did he do?

He looked at me in a manner that I cannot tolerate. What sort of manner is that? A lewd manner. Oh, well, surely... And I shall not return there. But don't you want to find your luggage? That which is lost shall not be found again. And that which is missing shall be gone forever. Yes, but still... Is there anything else?

No, no, no. Except that this man who was murdered a half hour ago happened to be employed at the bus depot. Indeed. He was the manager. Oh. Was he the one who looked at you in what you considered a lewd manner? I didn't consider it lewd. It was lewd.

Well, at any rate, the poor fellow is dead now. He's been punished. Punished? Oh, yes. There's no doubt about it. But what did he do? Is it possible you haven't been listening to me, Mr. Truffle? I told you what he did.

He was also lascivious and salacious. The sin of lust, Mr. Truffle. It must be stamped out. Well, be that as it may, Miss Menhaden, even if he were sinful, that's hardly the reason he was killed, I would imagine. Really? Yes.

Why do you suppose he was killed? Well, he was coming home from work. This is a Friday evening. He was carrying his pay envelope, I suppose, and some fee. No, he wasn't robbed. He was struck down for his sins. You say he was not robbed? He was not robbed. Well, how do you know? I know.

But how? Retribution, Mr. Truffle. Retribution. The hand of justice cannot be stayed. Whole cities, Sodom and Gomorrah, were expunged from the earth. What difficulty would there be in striking down one Harry Perkins? Harry Perkins.

Harry Perkins? The obscene animal who lusted after me in the bus terminal office. But the bus terminal... It's right in the middle of the floor in plain view. What could he have possibly been able to... I could read his thoughts. Well, I... There's a poem which I shall send to his widow. Perhaps she will see fit to make it his epitaph. Harry Perkins.

Vulgar of manner, overfed, overdressed and underbred. Heartless, godless, hell's delight. Ruled by day and lewd by night. Well, I would hardly think she would. And now there is one less of them. Them? Them?

It takes all kinds, as they say. And we seem to have a special kind right here in Dennis Truffle's boarding house. Why did Mr. Harry Perkins die? Why?

You are probably spinning your own yarn, so why don't we compare designs when we meet again in just a few moments for Act Two. Act Two

The French, as you know, during the 1930s, constructed a system of fortifications called the Maginot Line. This was considered an impregnable defense against invasion. We mention this because into the boarding house of Mr. Dennis Truffle has come a Miss Maud Menhaden, a lady whose defense of her virtue is also seemingly formidable.

We read further from the journal of Dennis Truffle. Before I continue, I must digress briefly for a point of personal information. Since I have never actively courted a member of the fair sex, certain coarse and unkind people have seen fit to question, as it were, my inclinations.

I shall not dignify this slander by rebuttal. I was taught by dad and mother to venerate. Venerate. The verb itself is the Latin root for love. To venerate the feminine sex.

and to look at woman as a temple of virtue who contains within herself... Well, no matter. It is merely that I have never met until tonight, until Miss Menhaden entered my house and therefore my life. Oh, what am I saying? Well, Miss Menhaden frightens me.

What did she say? That Mr. Harry Perkins was not killed by a thief? Is it true? I must find out.

Hey, Dennis! What are you doing out this hour? What am I doing? Well, this ain't exactly the kind of neighborhood to take a constitutional. Well, I thought I was... Besides, I thought... What with that dame. Dame? You're the cagey one, Dennis. I don't know what you're talking about, Officer Paderewski. That luscious dame. That is no way to refer to Miss Menhaden. Why?

Is it a lie? Tell me, Officer Paderewski, this man who was killed up the street, Mr. Perkins, the manager at the bus depot. Yeah? Why was he killed? Why? Was it a robbery? Why do you think it was a robbery?

Well, it must have been Friday night, payday. Let me tell you why it wasn't a robbery, Dennis. Because his wallet was in his pocket, his ring was on his finger, his watch was on his wrist. Oh. And he was stabbed? Yeah. Stabbed in a back. The back? A nice, clean little wound. But

It did the job. And the killer left no clue behind at all? Not a thing. Then you're completely in the dark. There's one little item. Nobody can figure out what it means. The dead man had a kind of white smudge just above his chin.

What kind of smudge? I told you, a kind of white smudge. What was the smudge made of? If I told you, you'd be even more confused than I am. Cornstarch. Cornstarch? Figure it out. What was he doing with a cornstarch smudge across his face? Cornstarch. Hey!

Well, what are we going to do, huh? Stand around here all night saying cornstarch? Look, why didn't she go back to the house where it's nice and warm and cozy and there's this Miss Menhaden? So, she was right. It wasn't a robbery after all. He was murdered for another reason.

What other reason? Who would come up behind him and stab poor Mr. Perkins in the back? Is it possible he had been punished? Why had she been so sure? And the cornstarch... What did the cornstarch mean?

It was too much. I went back home and brewed myself a nice hot cup of tea. Mr. Truffle. Oh, you startled me. I'm sorry. I was very deep in my thoughts. I'm sorry to invade the privacy of your kitchen. Oh, any time, Miss Menhaden. Will you join me in a cup of tea?

You are a very unusual person, Mr. Truffle. Oh, well... You're a man of the highest sensibilities and finest personal character. Well... You have a reverence and a respect for womanhood. I... You are completely free from sin, as I hope to be one day.

One day? Yes. I must continue to fight temptation. Constantly. But surely, Miss Menhaden, love between men and women... Is filled with traps and pitfalls. Snares set by Satan. And furthermore, this lust, this love, this carnal knowing... I must not bore you with a recital of my innermost feelings. Oh, no, please, Miss Menhaden, feel free to... Yes, Mr. Truffle, you are a fine human being.

One of the very few, perhaps. The only one who deserves to be saved. And I shall do my utmost to save you. Oh. Well, I would certainly appreciate anything you... I came down here for a purpose. Do you have any cornstarch? Uh... Cornstarch? Cornstarch. Ordinary, everyday cornstarch. Oh.

Of course, I realize cornstarch has become old-fashioned in this so-called improved world we are afflicted with. Well, I have a box right here. Here, take it. I just need a little. Use as much as you like and return the rest. Well, thank you, Mr. Truffle. No, don't return it. I rarely, if ever, use it. Cornstarch has an almost infinite variety of uses. For example, do you know what I use it for?

No. Well, you may find this somewhat difficult to believe, but at one time... Hey, Dennis, old pal, old chap, old buddy. Let's have a little drink. Professor, I... Oh, come on, Dennis, baby. You got the bottle underneath the sink. Now, Professor, you've had too much. Sure, sure. But it's no good if you don't have too much. Ain't that so, baby? I beg you. Miss Menhaden, may I present Professor Wilbur... You may not. Oh, Wilbur.

What bitter? Professor Boniface is your fellow boarder. This hulk, this carrion, look at yourself. A corrupted container of lust and sin. Is that bad? You will be struck down in the midst of your obscene revelry. Professor, you look tired. It's time you got to bed. That's right, Dennis, old boy. Time for bed.

What do you say, sweetie? You have chosen licentiousness. You have chosen to revel in the depravity of the flesh. What is she carrying on about? Now, Professor, you are being rather forward. Ah, so what? A little lovin' never killed anybody. Take heed. A little lovin' may very well kill you.

Good night, Mr. Trouble. Good night, Miss Menhaden. Good night, honey. Now, really, Professor, she was highly insulting. Ah, what do you know about it, Dennis? I know that Miss Menhaden is a highly moral... Miss Menhaden is a woman. And you never insult any woman by praising her. Must you be so indelicate? Oh, what can I do, Dennis? It's the law of human nature. Oh!

From this point on, I must be extremely careful with my facts, lest I inadvertently do someone an injustice. I permitted Professor Boniface to wheedle several drinks of a rather strong, spirituous liquor, which I keep about the premises, purely for medicinal purposes. The result was he passed out.

I then assisted him up to his room where I deposited him safely onto his bed. On the way back downstairs, I passed by Miss Menhaden's door. I paused for a moment. I was about to knock, to inquire if she was all right, when it seemed to me I heard a rather...

Strange noise. What could it be? And then I remembered where I had heard such a sound before. It was a knife being sharpened on a whetstone, a smooth marble-like stone. I remember it was the sound made by Dad as he sharpened his razor.

The sound one makes when one carefully and patiently puts a fine cutting edge on a delicate steel blade. Well, of course, it may have been nothing of the sort. Which brings me to the next evening. Well, Professor...

How are you this evening? Whatever happened to Helen of Troy? According to Homer, she went home to Sparta with her husband, King Menelaus, where they... Oh, that ain't the one I'm talking about. I mean the lady upstairs. Why do you call her... Because she's the best-looking dame I ever seen. That's the angle that I'm going to use on her.

What angle? You know, feet are all them classics. Chicks really go for the cultured guys. I don't think Miss Menhaden goes, as you say, for anybody. Oh, I've seen her in action, Dennis. Oh, that one is mine. All mine. How can you say that? Because it's a fact. No woman can resist Wilberforce the Buddy Bunnyface.

I am now in stage two, as far as she's concerned. What is stage two? I play hard to get. You must understand, he believed every word he said. Poor professor. He'd been in the boxing ring, you know. He was the junior light heavyweight champion of Stormfield, New Hampshire. And it was said the experience left him intoxicated. No, punch drunk.

Well, at any rate, he went out. About a half hour later... Oh, good evening, Mr. Truffle. Oh, good evening, Miss Menhaden. May I offer you some supper? Oh, no, thank you, Mr. Truffle. The hosts of the Lord must fast before they go into battle. Battle? Battle. Well, that sounds grim. On the contrary, it's glorious.

You say you're going into battle. But where does this combat... Where is it scheduled to take place? Wherever I find it. Wherever I find some poor depraved wretch... Who, blinded by error, is groveling in sin... I open his eyes to the true glory... And thus save his soul. Oh. And speaking of depraved wretches... Where is Professor Boniface this evening? Out. Out? Where?

Well, I'm sure it would distress you to know that he will be going from one low place of entertainment and refreshment to another. Yes, it is distressing. Oh, Mr. Truffle, if only all men were like you. Like me? Pure. Well, she went out. That was about 8 p.m. She returned, I would say, at about 11 p.m.

There was absolutely nothing unusual about her appearance or manner. I remember I said, Good evening, Miss Menhaden. Good evening, Mr. Truffle. I wonder, did you save any souls this evening? I may have. And with that rather cryptic remark, she went upstairs to her room, and I heard her lock the door behind her.

I then put on a record of a 16th century Danish composer and was almost lulled to sleep by the dissonances when there was a loud clanging of my doorbell. All right, all right, all right. I'm coming. Dennis! Officer Paderewski. Oh, Dennis. Dennis, I got some bad news for you. So get a hold of yourself. Now, I know how fond you was of him and... It's...

Professor Boniface, isn't it? Yeah, old Boniface. And he's been murdered. Yes, Dennis. How did you know? How did he know?

We all knew, didn't we? We knew that Professor Boniface was not long for this world. And we could tell by the way Miss Menhaden was carrying on that she was the one who would dispatch him on his journey to eternity. But is this a fair assumption? After all, whatever happened to that good old American dictum, a person is presumed innocent until proven guilty.

What actual proof do we have? We may or may not have some when I return with Act Three. A favorite form of thriller is Jack the Ripper Murders, the psychotic killer who slaughters women at random because they do not measure up to his standards of purity and virtue.

In these days of women's lib, however, we must not be male chauvinists and make all our killers masculine. Is it possible that we are dealing here with a Jacqueline the Ripper? Who knows? With us, anything is possible. Boniface. Wilberforce Boniface, the professor. Dead? Yeah.

I, I, well, I don't know what to say. Well, I, uh, I was hoping you might be able to tell me something. You know, after all, he was one of your boarders.

He would sleep all day and go out drinking all night. Well, think hard, Dennis. Did he know Harry Perkins? Harry Perkins, the manager at the bus depot who was murdered the other night? Well, I couldn't be sure, but why? Well, we got an idea that the same person murdered them both. The same person? Yeah.

Why, cornstarch. The professor also had this smudge of cornstarch across his face and a knife wound in the back.

Cornstarch. Yeah, yeah, that's what I said. And that's what we're calling the murderer now. The cornstarch killer. But why would the killer leave cornstarch on the victim's face? Well, we got nuts in this world like you never dreamed existed. Do you know anyone who would want to kill a professor? Kill him? The...

No. Anybody in the house who might have been mad at him? In the house? Uh, well, at present, there's just myself and Miss Menhaden. Uh, maybe I'd better talk to Miss Menhaden. Yeah, but she doesn't know anything about Professor Bondyface. Can you be sure of that, Dennis? Tell her I'd like to, uh, interrogate her. If you don't mind. Uh.

Miss Menhaden, there's a police officer downstairs. The relative of the famous musician? He wishes to talk with you in an official capacity. It seems that there has been another murder. Another one? This one, even closer to home, I fear. Actually, at home. Poor Professor Boniface. The lecturer?

Whatever. The unfortunate fellow is dead. Officer Paderewski will want to know if you know anything about it. Yes, I know about it.

You do? Professor Wilberforce Boniface was an abomination. As such, he was removed from this earth. Removed? Justice was done. Morality was served. Yes, but who did the doing and the serving? I know that he was struck down because his time had come. Well, yes, I can understand that point of view, but the police might press you for specifics. Why? Why?

If you say you know who killed poor Professor Boniface, he will automatically ask who. Who? I should think anyone knows who. The avenging angel. The avenging angel. Yes, and now there's one less of them. Them? And she wouldn't say another word.

I ushered her downstairs to Officer Paderewski. I am ashamed to say that he was merely using the murder as a pretext for having a conversation with her. Do you go out very much, Miss Manhattan? Out? Oh, you know, for a little fun. Fun? Laughs. What is it you're trying to say to me, officer? Well, I was wondering if some night we could... Officer, I dislike the way you look at me.

And I detest the way you talk to me. I know a place. Oh, I dare say. Oh, I could show you a great time. Have you any questions to ask me in your line of duty as a police officer? Police officer, indeed. Who shall watch the watchman?

Good night. Now, there is a dish. I'm afraid you angered her. Officer Paderewski. Huh? There's something you must know. What is it, Dennis? Well? Well, what? What could I tell him?

Could I tell him that Mort Menhaden had spoken in a threatening manner about both Harry Perkins and Professor Bonaparte? Could I tell him that she had been out somewhere when the professor was killed? And about the cornstarch? Why did she want the cornstarch? Wasn't that something that might be of interest to the police? And yet I...

I couldn't say a word. I couldn't say a word.

Hey, Dennis. Oh, Officer Paderewski. Have you found anything new about the murders? The cornstarch killer, it's all over the media. Yes, yes. Has anyone reported seeing anyone who might be a suspect? Eh, not a rumble. How this guy can manage to sneak up behind his victim and just slip the knife into the back? You say guy, right?

Why are you so sure? Hey, hey, hey. Are you trying to tell me it could be a dame? Well, uh... Dennis, you're not a bad guy. But when it comes to figuring out murder, you've been over your head. But suppose I were to tell you... Hold it, hold it. Who dare she hit? Who, who? Look, across the street. Miss Manhattan. Look at the walk on her. Mm-hmm.

And at that moment, I saw her. I saw Maude Menhaden for the first time. It was a flash of revelation. I saw her as the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. How could she be a killer?

And even if she is, which is a ridiculous assumption, how can you lose her? I ran home as quickly as I could. I listened. I could hear her upstairs in her room. Oh, my darling Maud. I was about to knock on her door and make my impassioned declaration of love when...

I heard the sound. Was it my imagination? Was she sharpening a knife? What could I do? I went back to my sitting room to think. I turned on the radio. There was a program of 8th century Albanian folk music. It put me to sleep. I awoke. It must have been hours later.

The radio is still on. And now, the news headline on the hour. The notorious cornstarch killer has struck again. No. Another victim. This time, an officer of the law. Patrolman Rutherford Hayes Paderewski, killed while walking his beat, stabbed in the back. And as a signature, a smudge of cornstarch across his cheek. More details as they come in. Now we return to... I waited for Miss Menhaden to come home.

And finally I heard the front door open and close and her footsteps in the hallway. Miss Menhaden. Oh, good evening. Are you all right? Of course. Why do you ask? Well, you know there was another murder. Another murder? Officer Paderewski. The police say it was by the same person. Do they? Yes.

He was stabbed in the back. And the usual signature, the cornstarch, was smudged on his face. Well, that's one less of them. Them? If you'll excuse me. Miss Menhaden, you remember you borrowed the cornstarch? Yes. Oh, shall I return it? Oh, no, no, no. You were about to tell me what you used it for. Face powder. Face powder?

Face powder? Well, of course. At one time, ladies only used cornstarch or rice powder. Well, why would you want to use anything at all? You're beautiful. What are you saying? Desirable. Mr. Truffle, do not look at me like that. Not you. Your face, your body. I see lust in your eyes. Don't look at me. Dearest Maud. Oh, dear.

Lew, the lascivious fool. She ran upstairs to her room and slammed the door. I knew. I knew now how three men had died. She did not sneak up behind them. No, no. She approached them slowly with her mouth parted in a slow smile, her eyes shining with promise, and she embraced them.

Which is how the cornstarch powder rubbed off on their faces. And as she kissed them passionately, she deftly inserted the knife into their backs where it quickly found a home in their hearts. I sat in my chair and I listened. Did I hear the sound of the knife being sharpened again? And now...

The door is opening upstairs. And I hear steps approaching. Yes, yes. I see her. She's coming down to me. And her hair, her beautiful golden hair has fallen across her shoulders. And her face...

has a smile... a tender smile... of invitation. And there's a light... a light that seems to be smoldering in her eyes. And she's wearing a robe... but cannot conceal... nor does she mean it to conceal... the soft, beautiful curves of her body...

And she's coming closer. Kiss me, Dennis. Kiss me. Dennis, darling. Shall I let her place her arms around me or shall I stop her? Shall I demand to see if she holds a knife in the sleeve of her robe? Kiss me, Dennis, darling. Kiss me. Is this how she approached the others? Is this what she said to each of them before she killed them? Ah, Dennis. Dennis.

I love you. How do I know she killed anybody? I want you now, Dennis. Now? Yes, now. Right now. I cannot destroy the magic of this moment. I must take her in my arms now. I can't help myself. I must take her in my arms now.

Did he win or lose? What do you think? I regret to say that the cornstarch killer had struck again. Yes, in these emancipated days, we are all equal all the way. Equal pay for equal work is what the ladies quite justly demand, and so it happened with Maude Menhaden.

captured finally by a policewoman, I might add, and she received equal pay for her work. She was sentenced to a fatal visit to the scaffold. I shall return shortly. ♪♪

Our friend Dennis Truffle died in the violence of passion. And yet, he probably died happy in the arms of the woman he loved. It wasn't much of an affair, perhaps, from your perspective or mine, but it was the great love of his life.

And if it was of only momentary duration, well, who is to say longevity is always for the best in these matters? After all, you will admit he didn't have time to grow tired of her. Our cast included Robert Dryden, Marion Selders, and Earl Hammond. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now, a preview of our next tale. Hello? Hello?

Al? I just thought you'd like to know the grand jury handed down indictments against your clients, Dr. Grant and Ms. Stafford. I'm just having warrants issued against them both for first-degree murder and conspiracy to commit murder. Now, you know that's going to be a waste of time, Al. You don't say. I just did. Ballistics showed that Mrs. Grant was killed with a bullet from a gun other than the one on the scene of the crime.

That gun has disappeared, Al. Without it, you have no case. You wouldn't want to bet on that, would you? I'm not a betting man. It's just I've got a nice little surprise to spring on you just for once. See you in court. Al? What's he got, J.C.? Such me.

I'm more worried about what I may have got. What? Like they say, a bull by the tail. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by Allied Van Lines and your nearby Goodyear Auto Service Center. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams.

The End

For the ones who get it done.

Welcome to It Takes Energy, presented by Energy Transfer, where we talk all things oil and natural gas. Oil and gas drive our economy, ensure our country's security, and open pathways to brighter futures. What do you know about oil and natural gas? You likely associate them with running your car or heating your home. But these two natural resources fuel so much more than that. More than 6,000 consumer products that we rely on every day are made using oil and gas.

Before you even step out the door in the morning, you've already used more products made possible because of oil and gas than you realize. From the toothpaste you brush your teeth with, the soap you washed your face with, and the sheets you slept on. Not to mention your makeup, contact lenses, clothes, and shoes. Oil and gas are vital parts of all these products and so many more.

Look around and you'll see the essential role oil and gas plays in our lives. Our world needs oil and gas and people rely on us to deliver it. To learn more, visit energytransfer.com.

For the ones who get it done.

Dark Fantasy. Friday the 13th and the 13th Dark Fantasy Story by Scott Bishop. W is for Werewolf.

Jim! Jim Howard! Over this way! Bill! Bill Andrews, you old pill roller. Golly, am I glad to see you. Well, Jim Howard, welcome to Cape Howell. You're just the medicine the doctor ordered. And you're the doctor. How are you, Bill? Never better. Say, am I glad to shake hands with you again. You're the same old Jim. Five years haven't changed you a single bit. Well, I'm sorry. I can't say the same thing about you. You look tired. Almost sick.

I say, you aren't ill, are you? Ill? Oh, no. No, I've just been working hard. Not much sleep lately. Come on, I've got a wagon waiting right over here. Wagon? Sure, nothing fancy about us. We'll take the wagon to the boat landing and then we'll row over to my island. Say, now, wait a minute, Bill. Are you trying to rib me? What do you mean, your island? Oh, didn't I tell you? I haven't lived in Cape Howe for three years. I... Well, I find it more pleasant and comfortable out on the island. But what island?

Folks around here have another name for it, but don't mind them if you hear it. I call it a chape. Hmm. Say that again, Bill. A chape. What's that, Scandinavian or Esperanto? French. Come on. Here's the wagon over here. Young John's waiting on the boat landing. Oh, I say, how is young John? Jim, I don't know. I'm worried about him. He's having trouble with his studies. Doesn't seem to like books and...

Hates company. Well, I'd say he's more lonesome than anything else. It's more than lonesomeness, Bill. Ever since Bill Jr. died, he hasn't been the same. Angela and I were sorry to hear about Bill Jr. It was pretty sudden, wasn't it? Yes, pretty sudden. That's the way it is in this country, though. So much fever, so few conveniences. Oh, by the way, you say Angela and the child will be along in a few days? Oh, yes. You've got my wire? Got it yesterday. Okay.

I didn't know your sister lived at Lawston. Oh, yeah, she has for years. Angela wants to visit about a week, and then she'll come on down here to Cape Howe by steamer. Oh, incidentally, old man, do you think this country's all right for the baby? Had her shots, has she? Oh, yes. Yes, I did everything you suggested in your letter. You know, that letter you wrote almost scared Angela out of coming. She said if it's that dangerous here, she doesn't think we should risk the child's life by bringing her here. Well, there's no danger at all if the child's been inoculated against the three diseases I mentioned. Oh, I took care of that all right.

You're sure there's no other danger? I've taken care of any other danger there might be. Hmm? What do you mean? Just that. There's nothing in the world for your Angela to worry about. Please believe me, Jim. All right, old man, all right. Angela and I are on the first vacation we've had since we've been married. And believe you me, we're here to make the best of it. Good, that's fine. Come on, the wagon's waiting, see? Right over there.

Fine country, eh, what, Jim? Oh, marvelous. We've enjoyed the whole trip so far. Didn't even get seasick on the way across. Not even the baby. And she only a year old. Say, I'm anxious to see that girl. How come you named her Sandra? Oh, that's one of Angela's favorite names. Pretty name. I like it. This is the blameless means of transportation I've ever had to endure. I thought you would at least have your own limousine. No, Jim. I haven't been doing so well lately. Jim?

I hope you'll be able to put up with what I have to offer you on the island. Rough and rugged, is it? Quite. I built the cabin myself. It's not much, but it's comfortable. Oh, by the way, did you bring the books I wrote you about? Books? Oh, yes. They're in the trunk. Good. I must say, that's the strangest collection of books I've ever heard of. What kind of experimenting are you doing on that island anyway? It's pretty serious, Jim, I assure you.

It must be. I read your books on the way across. You did? Yes, indeed. Dr. Helgen Woodward's book on lycanthropy and Henry Joseph McClure's pampered on the disease Lumpus vulgaris and Guy Ender's story, Werewolf of Paris, and two other books on werewolves. Can't for the life of me imagine, Andrews, what you want with books like that out here in this wilderness. All right, Jim, here we are. Oh, John, here's Jim Howard.

You remember Mr. Howard, don't you, Johnny? Well, sure he does. How are you, John, old boy? All right. Glad to see you, sir. I say, where's that old smile I used to see? Here, let me shake your hand. No, sir. I don't want to shake hands. Oh, come on now. We're old friends, aren't we? No, Mr. Howard. Oh, I say. Jim, just a minute. Let go, Mr. Howard. There. Jim. Oh, there now. Shake just like old friends. Let go. Let go my hands. Let go. Jim, please. I say. Jim.

the boy's hand bill come on jim into the boat with you come along johnny johnny get into the boat son yes sir come along jim all right i'm i'm shoving off all right johnny you want to take the oars for the exercise or you want me to row well son i told him not to shake my hand i told him didn't johnny can i help it is it my fault of my hands johnny you want to row or not yes sir

i'll roll okay son up to it johnny sunny if i did something come on down to the other end of the boat will you here sit here i say andrews that boy's hand quiet he's upset enough but bill the palm of johnny's hand good lord man it's all covered with a thick growth of hair okay jim this is your room

Hmm, say, this is fine. You say you built this yourself, Bill? Yep, every bit of it. How do you like my island? I think it's perfect, but pretty inconvenient. Oh, I don't mind. Sorry we had to arrive here so late. I'll show you around in the morning. Yes, I'm anxious to see the rest of your place, Bill. I want to talk to you more about your work. Yes, of course. Tomorrow. It's pretty late now. Yes, it is late.

I'm afraid I rather bored you, old man, with my chatter at the dinner table. Oh, Jim, you heathen. You've never bored me a minute in all the time I've known you. Oh, that man Rayfield of yours is certainly an excellent cook. Yes, he's an excellent tutor for young Johnny, too. You'll find him quite helpful if you want anything. Fine. Oh, by the way, the people in this pot are a superstitious lot, Jim. Don't let them bother you with any of their nonsense.

Nonsense? Yeah, a silly lot about, well, things in the night. What things? Oh, there's nothing, of course. But they take all sorts of means to ward off, well, the evil spirits. Oh, I see. Here, I'll set this charm here on your desk. You won't be using the desk. Charm? What charm? Well, it's just a simple thing that the people hereabouts always insist on putting in the room in which a person sleeps. Here are these three bits of green twigs...

Two of them standing upright like this. There we have it. Hey, what is this? One cross piece on the uprights like this. Then a lakeshore pebble. This little bit of charred wood. There you are. Now you're fully protected. Protected against what? Why, those evil spirits I was telling you about. Now just forget about them, James.

I just put the charm here in case Rayfield comes in. He's very superstitious and he'll never rest until he's made a charm for you himself. Well, all right, but I still... Now, just forget all about it. Just a whim of Rayfield's. Good night, Jim. Night, old man. See you in the morning. Right. Bright and early. You need a spare blanket. There's one in the closet there. Right, Bill. Good night. Pleasant dreams. Hmm. A whim of Rayfield's, huh? Three bits of green twig...

Lakeshore pebble and a piece of charred wood. That's a strange combination. To ward off evil spirits, so Bill claims. But what evil spirit? Great horned toads, what's that? What in the world is that? Bill! Bill, I say Bill! What's that howling? It is nothing, Mr. Howe. Huh? Oh, you, Raphael. Nothing but a wild animal howling in the night. But that sounded like a wolf.

Wolf, Mr. Allard? Yes. It couldn't have been the wolf. There are no such animals in this country, you know. I know that, but... There. You hear it? It will be all right, sir. Did Mr. Andrews give you the charm? Charm? Oh, yes, the charm. It will protect you, sir, from anything. Wait a minute, Rayfield. Don't go. Oh.

Just what is this thing I'm being protected from? Oh, nothing. Nothing, sir. Nothing at all. People around these parts are curious, sir. Superstitious, you know. And all that sort of thing. So humorous.

By always keeping his arm in the sleeping rooms of rooms. Yes, but I don't see why you should worry about humoring anybody. Way out here alone like this on this island. Well, sir, it is just a habit of Mr. Andrews, a raccoon. But he said it was you he was satisfying by placing the charm in my bedroom. Yes, sir.

That is, well, what I mean is, sir, I'll best be going. Young Johnny isn't feeling so well tonight. I hope you sleep good, Mr. Howell. And don't worry about the howling. Nothing will harm you. Hmm. Don't worry about the howling, huh? That's strange. That howl's coming from the east wing of this cabin. Right over there. Why, George, I'm going to skirt this place and have a look.

Quiet now. The sound. A light just went on in that room the sound's coming from. That window's heavily barred. And the window glass is frosted and curtained so no one can see inside. The howl is coming from inside that room. Here's the door to the place. Oh, Bill. Bill, are you in there? There's some animal in there, all right. Bill. Andrews, are you in there? Whatever it is, it's trying to get out. Bill. Bill, are you all right? Are you in there, old man? Bill, are you in there? Bill. Bill.

Yes, Jim? What is it? I just wondered if you were all right. I heard that animal howling and I thought that... Animal? What animal, Jim? Don't tell me you didn't hear it. You weren't by any chance dreaming already, were you, old boy? But the howling came from inside that room. Say, you have been hearing things. I certainly have. Just before you opened the door, I heard an animal sniffing and whining and scratching at the door. Oh, now, Jim. A joke's a joke. But I'm not joking. Well...

Come on inside and look for yourself, then. Does anybody use this room? Certainly it's young Johnny's. He and Bill Jr. had the room together before... before we lost Bill Jr. Bill? I'd swear there was an animal in here a moment ago. Normally, Jim, I'd be a little confused by what you're saying.

Well, the long trip. Worry about your baby daughter. Look, look, there on the door. Long, deep scratches, like an animal's nails would make. Oh, those. Jim, those marks are ancient. The boys used to own a collie dog. We don't have him anymore. We used to shut him up in here sometimes, and he'd scratch on the door for someone to let him out. What's this? Bill, what is this? A long, heavy chain, securely fastened to the metal bedpost.

And a huge leather collar on the other end. Yes, that was the collie's chain and collar. We, well, we've never removed it from the bed. We'd chain the dog here at night to protect the boys. But look here. Fresh blood stains on the collar. And little wisps of grayish fur. Jim, forget it. Those stains aren't fresh. That dog hair has probably been there for ages. Yeah, I suppose so. But why the bars on the windows, Andrew? Just a protection for the children.

Come on to the living room, old man, and let me get you a drink. Call it a night, shall we? Yes. I suppose we'd better. Maybe a little sleep will do everybody a lot of good. Angela, I can't tell you how happy I am to have you and Jim here to visit me. We've looked forward to this for six months, Bill.

I envy Jim for having a weak head start on me. Oh, we really like it here, Bill. Baby asleep, dear? Yes. And it's time we had some rest, too. And that's my hen to clear out. Oh, no. Oh, I forgot. I'm going over to the mainland. I'll be back by morning. Anything wrong, Bill? Oh, no, not a thing. Jim, may I ask a favor? Certainly. That watch charm you're wearing, solid silver, isn't it? Why, yes, it is.

Do you think you could give it to me? Give it to you? Why, of course. I have a very special reason for wanting it. I wouldn't ask for it if I didn't have. Here you are. Thanks, old man. I hope I can return it to you. Well, good night. See you tomorrow. Good night, Bill. Jim, why does Bill act so strangely? I don't know, dear. Hmm. I wonder why he wanted that silver watch charm. Odd.

Oh, by the way, you said you had that wire for me. Oh, yes. It's here in my purse. I'll get it for you. Would you cover Sandra, dear? She's kicked her blanket off. Oh, sure. Here you are, darling. Thanks. Hmm. In answer to your cable, I have been able to learn that the grandfather of William J. Andrews was shot in France almost half a century ago by an angered mob.

His grave was recently opened, and instead of the remains of a man, investigators found the almost perfectly intact body of a strange beast, somewhat resembling a wolf. Jim, no. Just watch. Oh, Jim, what's that? Something's wrong. Come on, hurry. Oh, look. Look down the doorway of that room with the bars at the windows. Some animal running off there near the edge. Jim, no.

I hit that creature three times. I couldn't have missed him. And yet the bullets didn't even slow him down. Jim, there's a doorway. It's Rayfield. Look at him. Oh, he's proud. Only an animal could have done a thing like that. Where's young Johnny? Look, Jim. That heavy chain hanging from the bedpost. The collar's gone. Chain snapped right in two. Angela, you and I have a job to do. I hate to ask you to do this, but...

I think you've got the courage. To do what, dear? Come along with me. You will see. You about ready to get the lid off the box now? Oh. Steady, Angela. Steady. Oh, this thing's terrible. Desecrating Bill Junior's grave like this. Digging up the casket. If I'm wrong about this, well, we'll see. Hand me that bar. That's it. Now. Hold the light over here now, Angela. Angela.

Just another nail or two. Jim! Just exactly what I thought. That's not a boy's body in that casket. It's what was Bill Jr. But look. Only fur all over it. And that head and face.

Like a dog's. Like a wolf's. Oh, Jim. Young Bill Jr. died. A werewolf. His great-grandfather before him had the same disease. That's why Bill Jr. died so mysteriously. That's why Andrews had to leave the mainland to move out here. And all the while, he's been studying, trying to effect a cure. The hair on the palms of young Johnny's hands. Not wanting me to shake hands with him.

Now I see why Bill was so insistent about the charm of twigs, stone, charcoal. My watch charm. A silver bullet. Jim! That howled again. That's coming from our room, Jim. Come on, hurry. Hurry. Look, there's no light in the room. We left it on, didn't we? Oh, yes, we did. Oh, Jim, hurry. There, the light went on. Look out, dear. Let me in there. Oh, locked. This door's locked.

Who's in there? Open this door. Open up. Oh, dear. Open up this door. Open up, I say. Everything's finished now. Young Johnny is dead. Dark Fantasy. Friday the 13th. And you have heard Scott Bishop's 13th original tale of Dark Fantasy. W is for Werewolf.

Ben Morris was heard tonight as Jim Howard. Garland Moss was Bill Andrews. Eleanor Naylor-Coran took the part of Angela Howard. Fred Wayne was Raphael. And Don Stoltz played young Johnny. Next Friday night at the same time, listen to the 14th in this series of dark fantasy dramas. An intriguing, exciting story called A Delicate Case of Murder, written by Scott Bishop.

A strange, weird tale of a spiritualistic medium who suddenly finds herself in the midst of a vicious and well-planned murder plot with herself the victim. Murder and fantasy combined to produce one of the most eerie adventures you have ever heard in A Delicate Case of Murder. Tom Paxton speaking. Dark Fantasy comes to you each Friday night from WKY, Oklahoma City.

This is the National Broadcasting Company.

We got you. Visit your local San Jose Verizon store today. $20 monthly promo credits apply over 36 months with a new line on unlimited welcome. In times of congestion, unlimited 5G and 4G LTE may be temporarily slower than other traffic. Domestic data roaming at 2G speeds. Price guarantee applies to then current base monthly rate. Additional terms and conditions apply. 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.

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. The Diary of Fate. Fate plays no favorite. It could happen to you. Book 83.

Page 947. In the Diary of Faith. Yes, here it is. The name, Marvin Thomas. Occupation, Secretary. Yes, Marvin. As a male secretary, you have been successful. Your pay is more than twice what other men in similar positions receive. But you have earned it, haven't you, Marvin? Yes.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

As this man moves through life, you who listen may think me unfair, but fate is not cruel, not unmindful of mortal rights. In a moment, it will be time for another entry under the name Marvin Thomas. When I have written, I will read from his record in The Diary of Fate. I hope you understand. No mortal is granted foresight to perceive the future.

And now I, Fate, look ahead at a single portentous instant to a dark, pitching deck of an ocean liner far out at sea. What's that? Thomas, are you drunk? What? What are you doing? Put that iron bar down. Thomas, you're out of your mind. Don't. I'm not out of my mind, Mr. Fielding. I'm going to be rid of you. Thomas, don't. Don't. Don't. Thomas!

No mortal has the ability to say what even the next hour will bring. For the consequences of little things are beyond reckoning. Yes, the countless trifling incidents of everyday life are the tools with which I face. Mold the shape of destiny. I have no choice. But you, Marvin, were not aware of this.

as you sat in the lavish house overlooking Honolulu and nervously sipped a drink. Your employer, the very wealthy recluse, Mr. Gregory Fielding, plagued by arthritis,

that addicted to cynicism was talking about you in the presence of a beautiful woman, Nina Carroll. And once more, Thomas, it's all your fault. I'm sorry, Mr. Fielding, but I... You're really not stupid, Thomas. You're merely spineless. I told you to put a sting in that letter to Barnes. If you'd done that properly, he wouldn't have dared delay the shipment.

Now it'll be at least two weeks late. Well, what does it matter? After all, the copra can't spoil, can it? No, Nina, but the market can. That lily-livered, namby-pamby attitude Thomas has will cost me several thousand dollars. Right, Thomas? Yes, sir. I'm afraid that's right. You're so timid, a pat on the wrist is your idea of severity. Now listen to me, Thomas. I told you to be tough in that letter to Barnes, and I meant put the fear of the devil in him. Do you hear me? Gregory, your drink. Oh, bless it.

Here's my napkin, sir. I've got it all over my hand. Now, out of the way, Thomas. I'll have to go wash it off. Excuse me, Nina. Well, what are you staring at, Thomas? Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Carroll. I... Well, thanks for taking my side. Taking your side? Don't be ridiculous.

What's the matter? Is my lipstick on upside down? You're still staring. Sorry, I... I didn't mean... That is... Oh, good heavens, don't be ashamed. A woman thrives on being stared at. Miss Carroll...

Nina, you're so beautiful. Careful, Thomas. You'll burn your fingers. Nina. Yes, Gregory? Run along now, will you? Oh, but I thought we'd have the evening together. I'm sorry, but Thomas has made such a mess of things, I'll have to get to work. Tell Clint to bring the car around, Thomas. He's to drive Miss Carol home. It's Clint's night off. He's gone, Mr. Fielding. Shall I call Ken? Oh, no, you may as well drive yourself. You'll be no help to me here. Very well, sir. I'll get a car. Yes, Thomas.

A little thing. Bill Drink. And now you were driving Nina home. And although she rode in the back seat, the nearness of her combined with the hatred you held for Mr. Fielding made you bold and reckless. Nina. Nina. You yourself told me not to be ashamed. And I'm not. You were beautiful.

I'm in love with you. Why, Tom, are you kidding? No, I'm not kidding. We're away from the house now. Won't you call me Marvin? What would Gregory say about this? I don't care. I despise him. He's a mean, sickly beast. How can you possibly be in love with him? What makes you think I am? Why are we talking? You're not in love with Mr. Fielding. I thought maybe you'd like to ride up here in the front seat.

With me? No. So you're a man and not a mouse after all. No, Thomas, I think not. I'll ride back here. You're just doing this to get even with Gregory. That's not true. Nina, I love you. This has gone far enough.

The go sign in my life is the dollar sign. You haven't got it, and I don't think you'll have the nerve to ever get it. So start driving, Thomas. All right. But you'll see, I'm going to change things. Do you hear? I've put up with his insults and his high-handed ways long enough. For 12 years, I've been humiliated. Well, now I'm going to do something about it. You just wait and see.

An idea once planted and nourished with sufficient incentive often takes root and grows. That is why the next morning that you worked with your employer, the things he said formed a strange pattern in your mind. Thomas, I have decided to go to Australia myself. Australia? On the crowback deal? But may I ask, why, sir? I need a vacation.

Besides, I want to see the Korpak brothers squirm. I've arranged to have them pay the entire amount in cash. $100,000. It's liable to break them. How do you say? It should be interesting to watch them pay a fortune to a man they've never seen, whom they know only as a letterhead powerful enough to crush them. Besides, I've never been to Australia. Are you flying, sir? No, I want to sail. You're coming with me to make all the necessary arrangements for next Wednesday. Yes, sir.

And, oh, by the way, call Dr. Camuto. Tell him my arthritis is bad again. I want a treatment this afternoon at three. And while he's here, you may as well have him arranged for a doctor in Sydney to continue the treatment. Oh, and Thomas. Yes, sir? Please, don't bungle that point. Stress the fact that I must have them on time once a week. Understand? Yes, Mr. Finkley. Your idle threat to change things...

was no longer idle, Marvin Thomas. Now it had begun to grow. An idea was taking form. And as you went about the petty routine of the day, the words of your employer echoed in your mind. They will pay the entire amount in cash. $100,000. Pay a fortune to a man they've never seen.

They know the Amun is a letterhead. Never be in Australia. One hundred thousand dollars.

Oh, hello, Dr. Komodo. Come in. Well, thank you for coming. Mr. Fielding is going to make a trip to Sydney. He'd like you to arrange with the doctor there to continue the treatment for his arthritis. Can you do it? Yes, yes, I can do it. And stress the importance that the treatment be on time. Mr. Fielding made a particular point of that.

You're smiling. Is something wrong? No, oh no, I will take care of it. It isn't really important, is it? That's why you're amused. Well, it is not for me to say. Modern medicine is a peculiar combination of drugs and psychology. I thought so. You're pretty sly, Doctor. Getting a fat fee each week for twelve years for your psychology. Do not misunderstand me, Mr. Thomas.

The psychology is important, but the drugs, the injection, and the tablets, they serve a most definite purpose. Yes, Marlon. Another item on your list was checked off. Another step taken down a path new and strange to you.

A desperate evil passed. On the ruse of delivering a package, you went to Nina Carroll's cottage. Thomas, what are you doing here? I must talk to you, Nina. It's tremendously important to me. It's about the other night when I drove you home. I told you that had gone far enough. But I'm in love with you. I must know how you feel about me. Now, see here, Martha.

Well, I told you already. As a person, I like you very much. But there are other things in the world I like more. Things that money can buy. And under the circumstances, I can't afford to... Wait. If I had money, lots of money, things would be different, wouldn't they? Incitedly different, Marvin. That's what I wanted to hear you say. Oh, hello. Instinctive line?

Yes. I'd like to know what time the Benjamin V. sails for Sydney. At 9.30 p.m. from Pier 13. I see. I want to make a reservation. I want to reserve a cabin on Wednesday, first class. Mr. Gregory Fielding. No, no one else. Mr. Fielding is traveling alone. Yes.

As far as the steamship company would know, Mr. Fielding was traveling alone. But that was not the truth, for you had every intention of being aboard the Benjamin B-2 when she sailed. Only you and I, Faith, knew that, knew the full implication of that untruth. And now, there was no turning back. You would follow the road you had chosen to its inevitable end...

In a moment, it will be time for another entry in the Diary of Fate. Yes, Marvin. Your plan was simple but daring. And as the day of departure approached, your confidence mounted. No one knew your employer's habits as intimately and completely as you.

You knew them so well that, given the opportunity, you could actually become Gregory Fielding. And it was your intention to give yourself that opportunity. On Wednesday evening, you boarded the ship to arrange the final details for Mr. Fielding. And then you phoned him from the docks.

Mr. Fielding, this is Thomas. Is everything in order in my cabin? Yes, I just checked it myself. It's a very nice cabin, sir. Number A-12. Good. I'll arrive at 925. You stay there and meet me at the gang plate. Very well, sir. Would you like me to order a late supper for you? No, don't bother. But I want all my meals served in the stateroom. You've taken care of that? I've taken care of everything, Mr. Fielding. Everything. Everything.

Mr. Fielding. Mr. Fielding. Oh, there you are, Thomas. I've been looking all over for you. Here, take this bag. These stupid, crowd-stuffy officials. Where's my stateroom? This way, sir. Right down this passageway to the left. Lead the way, Thomas. I want to get out of this idiotic mob.

We're underway, sir. Thank heaven for that. Now maybe that mob out there will quiet down. If I may make a suggestion, Mr. Fieldinger, the deck will be cool soon. You might enjoy the open air if your room stays hot. Good idea. But I'll wait until that giddy crowd has gone to bed. I can't stand them. I know. I have had a chair placed for you on the boat deck. It will be cool.

It will be secluded and private there. Oh, we're fine. Thank you, Thomas. Not at all, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me. Yes, Marvin. Now everything was ready. All that remained was the deed itself. But you expected no difficulty there. And so you walked the deck and mingled with the passengers, waiting until they had retired. For only then could you strike.

But at that moment, Thomas, I, Faith, again moved in your life. In cabin A-12, Mr. Fielding was unpacking a briefcase, and a picture fell to the floor. He picked it up, looked at it, and on an idle whim reached for the telephone. Hello? This is Mr. Fielding in A-12. I want to send a radiogram to Miss Nina Carroll, 420 Kalani Dr, Honolulu.

Message, Nina. Take plane for Sydney. Meet me in my office at 5 p.m. on the 14th. Signed, Gregory. Yes, Marvin. Unknown to you, the ship's radio was flashing a message to Nina. Now you were pleased because you knew the other passengers would go below all the sooner. And you were right. The time had come.

You pulled a heavy iron stanchion from its bracket and climbed to the boat deck. Then you stood in the shadows and watched Gregory Fielding as he shifted uncomfortably in the deck chair. Who's there? It's only I, sir. Thomas. Why are you lurking in those shadows like a shy schoolboy? You should be in bed at this hour. I was restless.

The ocean always makes me feel that way. Yes, there's power in the ocean. You can feel it, Thomas, but you'll never understand it, I'm afraid. Why do you say that? You have no concept of power. That's why you're weak and indecisive. I think you're wrong, Mr. Fielding. Don't be silly. Here we are, two men of the same age and equal intelligence. Yet look at the difference.

You can't make a decision and act on it, but I can. That's the difference, Thomas. There's no difference. What's that? Ah, you're talking like a fool. There's no difference. The people who don't know us will fail to see any difference. Thomas, are you drunk? What... what are you doing? Put that iron bar down. Thomas, you're out of your mind. Don't do it. Don't...

I'm not out of my mind. I'm going to get rid of you. Hummers. Oh, good. Don't. Don't. Don't. Yes, Marvin. The last earthly sound of Gregory Fielding was swallowed up by wind and water. You thought you were safe, free, and rich. For the rest of the voyage, you rehearsed your new role until it was perfect.

At last, when the ship docked at Sydney, you were anticipating the business meeting of the Kolpak brothers with the same malicious delight Mr. Fielding would have if you went at once to the branch offices of the firm.

So, you're Mr. Birch, our Sydney branch. Well, Mr. Birch, I'll require some minor accommodations during my stay here. I want a private office and a private wire. Your best secretary at my disposal exclusively. Bring out the Muslim reports. I'll look them over first. That's right, Mr. Birch. The Kolpak brothers already have been notified as to the terms of the payments.

Have them here in my office at 8 this evening. I'll handle the whole thing myself. Yes, Marvin. In a matter of hours, the transaction would be completed. You were sure that nothing could stop you now. But then, another little thing happened. And two unrelated elements in your borrowed life were brought into close conjunction...

Yes? What is it? I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Stevens, but there's a gentleman here. A Dr. Cooper. Cooper? I don't know any Dr. Cooper. What does he want? He says he has orders from a Dr. Komodo in Honolulu. Oh, uh, of course. Uh, send him in, Miss O'Brien. Yes, Mr. Stevens.

Good afternoon, Mr. Fielding. I'm Dr. Cooper. Oh, how do you do, Doctor? Dr. Komodo wrote to me about you. I brought all the necessary items with me for your treatment. Oh, well, Doctor, as a matter of fact, I'm very busy just now. I wonder, would you mind terribly coming to my hotel later this evening? Well, uh, no, certainly not, sir. But Dr. Komodo was so emphatic regarding the time that I thought... Yes, I know, but as it happens, I'm too busy to take it at the moment. I'll see you, say, at...

9.30. Yes? I'm sorry, sir. There's a lady here to see you. A Miss Carroll. Meet her, Carol. Meet her? Here? Oh, a doctor. Just a moment. Miss O'Brien, where is the lady now? Waiting in the foyer, sir. I see. Tell Miss Carroll I'm with my doctor. I'm taking a treatment. I won't be able to see her.

She has to go back to her hotel and wait until I call. And this is O'Brien. Until the Kolpak brothers arrive, I am not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Is that clear? Yes, Mr. Fielding.

I've changed my mind, Doctor. I'll take that treatment. Fine, sir. Fine, sir. Now remove your shirt, please. Now these tablets here are exactly the same as you've been getting in Honolulu. Dr. Kamoza sent me complete, detailed instructions. Everything will be just as he would have given it. Fine. Fine. Been taking these treatments for over 12 years, you know.

Couldn't get along without them. Komodo and I were students together years ago. I have great faith in you. He's an excellent physician. Yes. Oh, Joe. Sorry, sir, sorry. Just a moment now. There you are. Injection always stings a little, doesn't it? But it does with the word. Only thing that gives me any relief. Yes, I know. I'll leave my card with you, Mr. Field, in case you want to reach me before next time. Eh? Oh, uh, fine. Thank you, doctor. And good day. Good day. Good day.

Yes, Marvin. Little things often become unbelievably important. Had the doctor not been in your office when Nina arrived, your whole elaborate plan might have collapsed. But now you could meet her later and explain it all where her shock surprise would not matter. All that was left now was the business meeting with the Kolpak brothers.

You sat at the table and, one by one, went through the steps of the transaction. The Kolpaks were afraid of you. You gave them no reason to doubt your identity. At last, you lifted the fortune in your hand. $100,000. Very well, gentlemen. The amount is correct. Our business is concluded. Thank you and good night. Yes, Marvin Thomas. It was done.

You are rich and free, but although the laws of nations differ and the philosophies of peoples vary, there remains one inescapable constant in the universe, the irrevocable law of justice. And you who listen, lest you think fate a conspirator and evil, feed well this final entry. For a few moments, I will write for the last time in the record of Marvin Thomas.

And when I have written, I will read from the Diary of Fate. Yes, Thomas. As you carefully placed the fortune in your pocket, you were sure you now had everything you had ever wanted. You attributed the spinning in your head and the weakness in your knees to the strain of the daring masquerade. But your face became drenched with cold perspiration.

And the short walk from the elevator to your room left you breathless. You stumbled inside and locked the door. Everything was spinning dizzily now, and the floor seemed to roll beneath your feet. Now you stumbled to the telephone to call Dr. Cooper.

This is Dr. Cooper. Doctor, Mr. Fielding, something's wrong. I'm sick. I can't breathe. I've got a cold sweat. Those pills, the tablets you gave me, what were they? Why, they're the same thing you've been taking right along, sir. They're quite harmless, I assure you. But the injection...

What about it? Oh, it shouldn't bother you, Mr. Fielding. I followed Dr. Kimono's instructions to the letter. It was given in strict accordance with the cumulative immunity you've developed over 12 years. Immunity? Doctor, what would happen if a man with no immunity...

Received that injection. It's an autogenous vaccine. Harmless to you because you've gradually built up resistance to it. Without the cumulative immunity, that dose I gave you would result in certain death within five hours. Within five hours? And now I close the book. Marvin Thomas is dead. Another entry has been duly noted on the pages of Eternity.

and justice has been served. In the case of Marvin Thomas, as in the cases of all mortals, I, fate, am but the instrument of a plan, and the little things that happen, unnoticed, apparently trivial, are the tools with which I work. A spilled drink that a man on the path of murder, and a casual remark...

Let him to his own death. Ponder well the moral, you who listen, and remember, there is a page for you in The Diary of Fate. Produced by Larry Finley, Diary of Fate is a Finley transcription. Brought to you from Hollywood. 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 A.P. Royal, narrated by Darren Marlar. Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. 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. Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to spend another 30 uncomfortable minutes in the company of your friend, the man in black.

My story this week takes us into that strange world we all inhabit from time to time. The world of dreams. It's a strange country indeed. A country from which, of course, come nightmares. Stay wide awake, then, for Dreaming of Thee. Oh, please! Please open the door! Please let me come in! Oh...

Ah, awake at last. What's your coffee? We're out of coffee. It's Monday. Oh. And get up in time to talk about the shopping. It's your turn this week. Okay. Now, the weather forecast. Well, the chilly winds won't persist for a few days yet, but it should be sunny in most parts. Out of the wind, it might even feel quite mild. Oh, I like something. Now, we need coffee, some bush soap, couple kitchen rolls.

Are you writing this down? Yes. You're not. Lorna. I'm writing it, I'm writing it. Kitchen rolls. Look, sharing the flat only works if everybody mucks in. Kitchen rolls. Oh, I had a postcard from Joanna. Joanna who? Joanna Cranley. The girl who lived here before you. Oh, yeah. She says, why don't you and Lorna come and stay with us for a weekend? Uh, well, sounds great. It's really rustic all round there. Cloud fields and long walks, sort of. What's the matter?

No, no, nothing. You've just broken my dream. I dreamt I was walking along the edge of a ploughed field and beyond the field there was this house. And as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get to it. Oh, yeah? I had to get into the house. What happened? Nothing. I didn't get in. Why not? I couldn't. I knocked and knocked and there was no answer. Empty house? But it wasn't empty.

I know it wasn't. There was somebody there. So I... I just went on knocking. And then I woke up. Listen, I only get enough fish for two tonight. I just might not be back. You're in tonight, aren't you? Oh, you bet. I'm still trying to catch up on last week. Right. Okay, then. Maybe I'll see you later. Maybe I won't. Sweet dreams if I don't. Oh.

Oh, please. Please open the door. Please let me come in. Oh, please.

Quarter to eight, Lorna. Oh, come on, wake up. I am awake. Do you think you could possibly lend me your red jacket today? I was... I was in the country. And then I suddenly heard that police car. I knew that wasn't in the dream. Oh, my God. What? It was the same dream.

Same dream as last night? Because this never happened to you. What? You've had the same dream two nights running. Oh, is this the house dream? Yes. Boring. Well, I mean, you know, dreams. Oh, but this is so real. I've got to get into that house. Well, let me know when you do. Oh, don't be silly. Oh, forget it. I certainly want to. It's so, oh, I don't know, chilling. Chilling?

Was it really the same? Well, not quite. This time I heard footsteps. Behind you? From inside the house. There was somebody in it. I told you there was. Well, did you see whoever was there? No. I heard the footsteps. And then I heard them stop. And then I heard a chain being taken off. And I think the police car woke me up. Tell you what. Let's go out tonight. The Valdi at the tech. Take your mind off things.

My favourite bit, this is. Lorna. Hmm? Did you know that Vivaldi was a priest? This is not Vivaldi. Yes, it is. No, it's Giuliani. It's Vivaldi. No. No. No. No.

Please. Please open the door. Please let me come in. No! For God's sake.

Yeah, Kat. Kat? I'm sorry. What happened? I must have fallen asleep. Shh. Let's get out of here. Excuse me. Are you all right? I don't think so. Come on. Get your bag. We can't go in the middle of the peace. It's wrong. We can't. We can't stay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Kat's...

I'm sorry, Cass. Oh, don't worry about it. I can't believe it happened. What are you dreaming about? Oh, not the same dream. It's as if I'm being pushed. I must get into the house. And at the same time, I'm terrified of what's going to happen when I do. But it is only a dream. Then why do I go on dreaming it? Like tonight. You could only have been asleep for a minute. You were talking to me. It's as if there's a...

It's a time sequence. Every time I dream it, I get that bit nearer. To what? To whatever's going to happen. But what happened tonight? Why did you scream? What? You screamed, Lorna. In the concert? Yes, in the concert. Why do you think we left? Oh, my God. It's no joke if you're going to start dreaming and screaming in public. No, I know that. I know it's no joke. I'm sorry, Cass. I don't know what to do.

Today's in the dream that the door opened. Okay. Okay. Who opened it? A man. What sort of man? About my age. Tall. Good looking, I suppose. But frightening. No. That's what's so odd. How about my screaming? He opened the door. Oh, God, Cassie. He looked as if he was in some kind of shock. There was this awful icy feeling again.

Look, why don't you and me get the hell out of here? Go and see Joanna and Eddie for the weekend.

Why?

That house. I know it. I thought you said you did. I don't mean I know it. I mean I've been there. There's a gravel drive all round it, and from this side, you have to approach it over that field. Over a ploughed field? Oh, my God, Cass. It's the house in my dream. Cass?

What are you doing? It's pouring down. Stop the engine. Where are my wellies? Oh, you're not going to go out in this. Yes, I am. Are you mad? I'm going over there. What am I? Why? I've got to see it. I've got to see if I'm right. Now, look, Lorna, just a minute. I'm going. You coming with me? Just listen to me a minute.

You really upset me with your damn dream. It's stopped and we don't want any more. Finish. I'm not going to try and get in or anything. I'll tell the people we're lost and ask them if they can direct us to the village. Well, then I can get a good squint at it. I shan't be long. You're crazy. I'll be back in a minute. Well, just don't hang about, that's all. Well, go on. Knock. You've come this far. Actually, it's nothing like the house. It's exactly like the house.

Oh! Oh, I'm sorry. What do you want? Oh, I'm sorry to trouble you. It's just... What do you want? What do you want?

I just... Well, I used to live here, you see. I live here now. Yes, I know. I know you do. Go away. Oh, please. What do you want? Would it be possible for me to come in for a minute? No. It's so wet out here. Go away. Please let me in. Nobody comes inside this house. But why not? Because it's haunted. Haunted? Who by? You. It's haunted by you. Oh!

Yes, your glass is empty. Oh, no more, thank you. Joanna, that was delicious. Thank you. Poor Luna. I'm glad you're feeling a bit better. Poor

Poor Lorna. What about poor me? Waiting in the sheeting rain. I thought you were in the car. A shock when I found her. I nearly died. I'd only fainted. What I don't understand is why. Well, wouldn't you, Eddie? I know I would if somebody called me a ghost. Please don't. He didn't mean a ghost like that. Didn't he? Of course not. Saying a thing like that, he could have killed her. If you want my explanation...

Please, no. No more explanations. We've gone over and over it. And I was for telling the damn fool as much to his face. I know I would have. She wouldn't let me. I just wanted to get away, back in the car and get here. You must have met him before somewhere. I have never seen him before in my life. Except in my dreams. Go on, Eddie. But I'm trying to help her. Look, he's a good-looking guy. You see him somewhere, subconsciously you clock him. Then later you dream about him. Happens all the time. How do you know he's good-looking? Well, I met him in the pub when he first took the house. He was a good-looking guy.

It's that house we looked at, Joanna. People rent it while they're looking for a place to buy locally. Oh, he doesn't live there? Well, nobody seems to want to live in that place. Oh? Why not? Well, I suppose it's pretty isolated between nowhere and beyond. Why did he say it? Why did he say it was haunted? Why did he say that to me? Good Lord, I've just noticed that photograph, Joanna. Which one? You, me and Lorna. When Lorna was moving in and you were moving out, we'd just agreed the sharing arrangement. I hope you and Cass don't mind sharing tonight, Lorna. I'm quite glad, actually.

I'm rather dreading going to bed in case I dream again. Sorry. What? The light on. Do you mind? You're not going to stay awake all night. Just in case. You can't not sleep in case you dream. Suppose I dream I get into the house. I've got to stay awake. No. No, mustn't dream. Mustn't dream. No. No. No. It's you. Yes. Yes.

I knew you'd come back. I've got to come inside. I beg you not to. I must. You know what will happen. I'm coming in. This way. Stairs. I can't. Then don't. You don't have to. You can leave. Leave, for God's sake, leave now. Go. I can't. Come on, then. Come on.

luna wake up wake up oh god what ever frightened her what's the matter with her i can't wake her up eddie oh good god she was terrified of going to sleep and i i saw her slumped over like this so i tried to move her oh eddie look at her jana get it off a little quick why does she have to look so petrified what could she have seen she looks frightened to death i think she probably was

That concludes the witness's evidence. Thank you. We come now to the medical report. It is signed by Dr. A.W. Trent, who finds that the only outward manifestations of disorder lie in the contortion of the facial muscles, for which there is no accountable cause. There is no evidence on the body that violence was inflicted on the deceased.

In view of the medical history of a heart condition, the legacy of rheumatic fever in adolescence, my own opinion is that death was caused by heart failure due to vagal inhibition. My verdict, therefore, is that Lorna Veronica Stewart died from natural causes. How could I have said anything about her dream? Dreams aren't exactly evidence, are they? You did tell a bit of a lie. I told the police what Lorna had told me. But she went to that guy's house to ask the way.

She said he'd opened the door, scared the hell out of her, and she'd fainted. Apparently, he denied even opening the door. Who's the liar? Lorna? You don't mean she made it all up? How can we know? Well, you didn't see this guy, did you, Cass? Well, no, I didn't hang about. I just got her back to the car as best I could. So we don't really know what actually happened, do we? Never shall now, I suppose. Oh, yes, but she wasn't lying. She saw him. Or she saw something. Can I get you another brandy, Cass? Oh, no, thanks. Cass, did you know Lorna had a weak heart?

No, of course not. Oh, that guy's somehow connected. I know it. Better ask him, then. He followed us in here. He was at the inquest. Was he? He wasn't called to give evidence. He's coming over. Good. This is probably not the time, but look, my name's Bob Cadenia. I just wanted to say I'm terribly sorry about your friend. Did you open the door to Lorna? Yes. So why did you lie to the police? Is there anywhere I can talk to you? I've got to talk to you. Come back to our house.

Here's the coffee. You see, I heard the knocking. I opened the door. I begged her to go away. Why? She wouldn't. So I slammed the door and went upstairs. There was no more knocking. I thought she'd gone. And then the next day, the police came. At first, they just asked if a girl had stopped by to ask the way to the village. And you didn't want to get involved, so you said no. I didn't make the connection. She hadn't said anything about asking the way. So I said no. And then they showed me your photograph. The three of you. And then they told me she was dead.

That shook me. You recognised her? Yes. But you'd already denied seeing her. Oh, I'd seen her, all right. Look, this may all sound crazy, but I saw her in my dreams. You dreamed about Lorna? From the day I moved into the house. Awful, frightening dreams. Then they began to crystallise into the same nightmare. I was inside the house. There was this girl outside trying to get in. Always the same dream.

The girl, I didn't see her face. Walking round and round the house, trying to get in, and me desperate to keep her out. Why? This went on night after night. Then one night I dreamed that I did open the door. And I saw her for the first time. Who was she? Just after I'd opened the door and seen her, I woke up in the most god-awful sweat. I was convinced that if I had the same dream again, something terrible would happen. That was the night before your friend came to the house. Last Saturday. I'd spent the morning trying to shake it off. And then there was this knocking on the door.

When I opened it, God, I got the shock of my life. It was far worse than the nightmares. The girl was real. The dream was really happening. She was standing outside looking at me. Why did you tell her she was haunting you? Well, she was begging to get into the house. I was frightened to get rid of her. I knew she had to go. I felt if she didn't, or something awful, I didn't know what, but I dreaded what might happen. Something awful did happen, didn't it? Worse than you think. That night, I dreamed what had actually happened that afternoon. That the girl had turned up again. Only this time the dream went on.

I didn't slam the door. She came in. I led her up the stairs and I murdered her. That's why I went to the inquest. Time of death, cause of death, I had to find out. But she died of heart failure. How did you... With an axe. Blood everywhere. There were no marks on her body. I feel responsible. I feel in some way I must have killed her. I never saw her again. She was with us. She died ten hours after your meeting. Yes, but she died at exactly the time I was killing her in my dream. Her dream...

I'm sorry? She was in your dream. You were in hers. What are you talking about? Oh, don't you see? You shared the same terrible dream. That's ridiculous. She was terrified of falling asleep because of what might happen. So was I. The thing is, I'm still terrified. Why? Look, if... If this happens... I believe what you say, Cass. I think people can move in and out of other people's dreams. What scares me is that it might happen again.

I could dream that I'm killing somebody else. And I don't know what to do about it. Hello? Hi, Cass. How are you doing? Joanna! Yes. Sorry. Oh, why sorry? Oh, you know. Anyway, it was worse for you. In your house. We're surviving. It's three months ago now. I wonder how that poor guy's getting on. Good day, yeah. I don't know. He left, you know. After that day at the inquest.

I think about him. Listen, Eddie and I are coming up for Sue Enderby's wedding. Oh, good. We'll meet then. Where are you staying? Well, that's just it. I wouldn't look. You can shack up here. Oh, great. On the floor, anywhere. We don't mind. Better yet, you two can have the big double and I'll move into the single. How super. Great. See you then, then. See you then.

Do you remember? Yes, you do. Oh, I'm sure you don't mind turning out of your room. Listen, I've got a better idea. You girls haven't stopped yakking all day. Why don't I have the single room? Then you can talk all night. No, no, honestly. Well, in that case, I'm off to bed. Well, we're all going to bed. I'm quite looking forward to having the room to myself. Oh, my God.

Oh, please open the door. Oh, please, please let me come in. Please let me in. Hello, Cass. No. I've been waiting for you. And we both know why, don't we? No. No. No. No.

Well, I hope that little story doesn't give you bad dreams tonight. I'm sure it won't. After all, it was only a story, wasn't it? Wasn't it? Of course it was. Those taking part in its telling were Karen Archer as Lorna, Moira Leslie as Cass, David Gouge as Eddie, Joan Walker as Joanne, Dominic Rickards as Kadenia, and Michael Deacon as the coloner and radio announcer.

Dreaming of Thee was written by Gwen Cherrill and directed by Jerry Jones. My name is Edward D'Souza, and next week my story will be of special interest to those among you who are motorists and have experienced the terror of being caught in a snowstorm. It's entitled The Horn, and I hope you'll join me on that journey into fear. Until then, pleasant dreams.

This is Five After the Hour by Les Weinroth. ♪♪

Sweep the bows across the strings, blow softly on the reeds, mute the brasses, make music a man can whistle, for this is the theme. ♪♪ This is music composed by Frank Smith. This is music conducted by Cesar Petrello. This is Five After the Hour. ♪♪

This is the mystery, the magic, the excitation of flowing water. This is the Song of the River, starring Curly Bradley. ♪♪

This is the song of the river. This is the music of water that finds its way to the sea. This is the poetry of high banks and levees and a swift channel. This is the miracle of nature. Feeds and nourishes and builds and gives light and life and then destroys. Music

This is the song of the river. Dad, where does the river go? The river, son? That's a big question. And it'll take some time to answer. Where does the river go? The river starts in heaven, way up there on high.

The river starts in heaven, son, just like you and I. A raindrop falls on a mountaintop, it's got to find the sea. It's got a lot of things to do, just like you and I.

Quiet, raindrops! Quiet, raindrops! You're awful noisy for such little things. Hmm, looks kind of parched down there on Earth. Maybe I ought to throw some rain down there. Mightn't be a bad idea. Raindrops! Raindrops! Things look kind of brown.

Sribble, dried out, down there on Earth. Thanks for agreeing with me. You know what's required of you. You're packed and ready to go? They're ready. Good. Pleasant journey, raindrops. And I hope you find the sea. The End

Dad, do raindrops really talk like that? Do those little things really make a river? How many are there? A hundred skillion, maybe? No, there's more than that, son. A scraw trillion, at least. Gee. Right away, they start looking for the seeds.

Down that mountainside they run and skip and tumble, bumping into stones, a-zigging and a-zagging. All those drops? Racing to the bottom. All the time they're growing bigger. All the time they're growing stronger. Pretty soon they make a stream, and that stream says to those stones, Father, I'm on my way. It's on its way, Roland.

Downward to the sea with grass a-growing on its banks and huge and leafy trees. It drains the soil in springtime and overflows its banks, leaving rich and fertile lands the farmer gives his thanks.

Thank you, sir. You're welcome, John. Then skiffs begin to ride. Boats begin to churn. They churn their way across the tide. Stopped from stem to stern. With corn and sweet potato. Cotton, too, and old.

With sugar cane and black molasses piled high on the coast. All in the same river we're fishing in? The same river, son. Yeah, take this stone and toss it over the bank.

Gosh, look at all those ripples spread. That's right. Look at them go. Those ripples travel all the way down the river. They see thousands of things that you and I can't see. A couple hours from now when it's night, they'll still be traveling. Maybe rock a little canoe with lovers sitting in it. Their faces shining in the moonlight.

Harry, did you ever see a more beautiful moon? It was made for the night, Mary. And you and me. Look how the water shimmering makes the moonbeams dance. Looks like about a million fireflies telegraphing the beauty of the night. Makes you feel like drifting along on the river forever. Yeah, the moon's been a-shining on this river as far back as father time can remember.

This river's got glamour, son. You know what glamour is? You mean pinup girls? No, son, I mean something more like, well, like the glamour of the showboat. Oh, there were girls all right, and singing and dancing. Like in the movies? Long before there was such a thing as the movies. Showboat on.

The river stops at all the towns Showboat bringing joy and fun And gals in lovely gowns Dancers strutting proudly To music of the band To music of the men's true men The gayest in the land

The showboat is here. Dancers, singers, and music men. And the great Free Street Parade. Introducing the world's

The world's greatest entertainers who have played before the crowned heads of Europe and of all heads of America. The Tainers, them, 40, and that super extravaganza, that histrionic heart-wrencher, that...

tear-drencher, that majestic melodrama, Laura, the lovely landlord's daughter, or the price she paid for secret shame. Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Oh, Mr. Bones. Go on, Chamble. Oh,

big old ugly mouth. Well, that I will, boy, that I will. What I want to know is how old is that wife of yours? That wife of mine? She's two years younger than she was on the last day. Well, cook me, fry me, and set me up, boy. You sure ain't good at computing ages. Oh, no? No. How old is a person born in 1854? A woman. Oh, yeah.

Oh, you sure is dumb. Yes, Miss Bones, you sure is dumb. I don't know how you ever got a wife. Got a wife? Oh, I just sobered up and there she was. Now, tell me, boy, and tell me honestly, is it true that married men live longer than single ones? Uh-uh.

It only seems longer. How long you been married, man? How long I been married? Two. Two years? Uh-uh. Too long.

Miserable? You poor, miserable hunk of nothing, you. I'm gonna have to show you the lies. Say, is that so, Tambo? I've been doing pretty well in the dark up to now. Oh, you think you're doing good. Why, you is so dumb come hard times. How you

How you gonna make both ends meet? Why, that's easy, Tambo. I get myself a job in my brother's sausage factory. What for, fool? When you work in a sausage factory, both ends gotta be meet. See now, that remind me of a memory. The meat I had for dinner last night had two ends. Had two ends? How you mean that? Well, it was the end of the chicken.

Doggone near to end of me. Well, don't feel so bad, mutton mind. I didn't do so good either. I had ham for supper last night. Ham, huh? Was it cured? Well, if it was cured, it done had a relapse. The End

But the river wasn't only made for fun and dancing and lovers, son. There's another part to it you ought to know about. The serious part. The part of the river that grows and harvests the crops. Carries them to far off places. To all the people of the world. The river does all that too, son. How does the river do all those things, Dan? Well, listen, boy. Listen to the sound of that water, boy.

Hear that wheel a-turning, water in the field. The land has got to have that water, so the crops will be. Hear that, boy? The power of the river crushes all the grains.

That grow inside this fertile valley And from far away You see, son, the river turns the wheels that run the country. It turns the little water wheels, turbines, dynamos that gives us power to run the machine. And it's responsible for the miracle of light. Yes, the miracle of light, son. The light in your room will let you read all those wonderful books

Because you're going to have to read them before you become president, you know. And the lights in the homes of millions of other boys and girls in cities and towns and on farms where maybe their fathers and mothers didn't have life. And the lights in the schools and the shops and the factories, too. And in the clean, white hospitals where the sick are being cured. And where great and wise men are finding out how to make your life and mine fuller.

safer, longer. And in the war plants where men, women, and children are making things to help us win the war. Yep. There too, light is helping us to beat an enemy who wants to take the world back into darkness out of which we came. Golly. All that light comes from the riverside. You can thank the Lord for sending down those little dogs. Thank you, Lord.

It don't hardly seem possible that all that comes from this one little river. Little, huh? Here, pick up another stone. Yeah, that's it. Now, throw it in the water.

Now watch those ripples, boy. Watch them for as far as your eye can see. I'll watch them, Dad. Yeah, take the one going that-a-way, going south. I can't see it anymore. That's because it's on its way to St. Louis and Cairo. That's where Grandma went. Yeah, but it ain't going to stop there. It's going to float right past Crothersville, Missouri, and then Blytheville, Tennessee, right on down through Memphis town past Mississippi, you see.

and then past the vicksburg levee you know what happened to vicksburg son if you read your history then where does it go why into louisiana baton rouge and new orleans into the gulf of mexico and right on to the caribbean now take another big stone no no no no not one of those teensy weensy things but a great big rock that'll make us splash okay now eve ho zoe

Oh, look at her go. Yeah, watch her to the north this time, son, and see how far she goes. And a bull in Quincy, Dubuque and old St. Paul, through Davenport and Clinton too. And sonny, that ain't all.

From Minnesota to the Gulf, it runs through every state. This little river at our feet, it's greater than the grave. And it knows it too. Listen to that. That's not thunder, little boy. It's me talking about the river, the mighty conceited river it is.

Mighty temperamental, hard to control. It's roaring drunk with power. Flies into a rave and off it goes, spoiling all the good it's done. Sometimes I get so mad I... Gosh, the sky looks mad. Just a little thunder in the east. We'd best be going in.

Yes, run for cover, good little people. Run from the river, lest it swell again and break its bonds and ruin what you've built. Why can't you be all good, proud river? The people are good. They build themselves great cities.

They build themselves a civilization and a brand new world. They build themselves a thousand miles of levee to curdle you and then you break it down. The dam is troubling. Run for your lives. I've got to get back. Help me get back. Run, woman. Your house is torn loose. My baby's in the house. I've got to get back. River.

Hundreds of millions of tons of precious soil. Blessed good earth.

Washed into the sea. Aren't you sorry for what you've done? The thunder's not as loud as it was, Dad. Oh, the sky's lighter now. Maybe we won't have to run for cover after all. Look how peaceful the river is. Maybe it's sorry for what it's done. It does more good than harm, don't it, Dad? It sure does, son. It sure does. All power's got to be horned, son.

Because it can do the most good for the most people. And the river's no different from you or me. We don't ever want to let ourselves get out of hand. Just remember that, son. Remember that old river. And if you ever weaken, look up to the sky.

For the strength that he gave the river, pray to him, O God. Ask him for the power to keep all mankind free. Free as flows this mighty river through eternity.

Yes, this is the song of the river. This is the music of water that finds its way to the sea.

This is the poetry of high banks and levees and the swift channel. This is the miracle of nature that feeds and nourishes and builds and gives light and life. This is the song of the river. ♪♪

♪♪ Song of the River was written and directed by Les Weinroth, with lyrical acknowledgments to Sherman Marks and Carol Lederer, and musical kudos to Frank Smith and Cesar Petrillo. Curly Bradley was heard in the leading role. ♪♪

Next week, at this same time, Five After the Hour will bring you another 25 minutes of music and drama from WBBM, the Wrigley Building, Chicago. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.

Another five-minute mystery. The End

The entrance to the Lawrence House on Center Street is lighted by an unshielded bulb. Beneath it stands a policeman. Suddenly, a woman comes running up the fourth steps.

What's the matter? Has something happened? Do you live here, ma'am? I'm Mrs. Lawrence's personal maid and housekeeper. I've worked for her for years. Knew her pretty well, then. Of course. What do you mean, knew her? I'm sorry to have to tell you this, ma'am, but Mrs. Lawrence was murdered tonight, a couple of hours ago. Murdered? Let me go in there. Let me go in. I'm sorry, ma'am. Anything I can do to help, I'll be glad to do. Yes, there is one thing you can do. Take me to the police station.

Murder, is it? Well, I'll tell a thing or two now. And that's how it was, Inspector. I went out for a couple of hours tonight, with my regular night out. And when I came back, that policeman refused to let me in. I see. Well, Miss... Just call me Agnes, please, sir. People have for so long now. All right, Agnes. Now tell me.

How long were you gone tonight? Not more than a couple of hours, Inspector. I see. Everything was all right when you left? Perfectly. Everything was fine. Except that I never did like the idea of her seeing him again. I believe she was expecting him tonight, after I'd left. And just who is him? Why, her husband, I mean. They were divorced some years ago. Oh?

He was a friend. And Mrs. Lawrence was seeing her husband again? The last few nights, sir. All of a sudden, unexpected-like, Mrs. Lawrence came in one night and told me her husband was coming for dinner. I told her then I didn't like it. Was there any trouble? Not a bit, sir. In fact, things went too well.

In fact, I believe Mrs. Lawrence was getting a bit soft on him again, and after all these years, too. Tell me, where does he live? Over in Cranville. He's lived there for over a year now. That's about 15 miles away, isn't it? That's it, sir. Well, he could have driven that and been back in time for an alibi. Tell me, did anyone else know that Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence had become friendly again? Not a soul, sir. It was a secret that just the three of us knew.

But if you want my opinion, it was him that poisoned her. Must have been him.

There was a very devil in that man. Agnes, up to a point, I believe you're right. But because of just one thing, one mistake in your story, I'm going to hold you for the murder of Mrs. Lawrence. The inspector has a good reason for holding Agnes for murder. Do you know what it is? We'll tell you in just a minute, but first...

The End

The End

And now, back to our five-minute mystery and the murder of Mrs. Lawrence. Me? Murder? I wasn't even home when she died. Agnes, I know it was you who murdered Mrs. Lawrence. When you saw her and her husband becoming friendly again, you believed it would affect your inheritance. How do I know you're the murderer? For just one good reason, Agnes. I specifically gave orders that the method of murder would not be discussed with anyone.

You yourself said that Mrs. Lawrence was poisoned. Only one person could have known that. The murderer himself. The End

The End

Ed was extremely fond of his grandmother, Mabel, who had raised him after his parents died when he was eight years old. But she was worried about him. She knew that he was too young to be spending all of his time with books and an old woman. Mabel prayed every night for a companion for her grandson, for she did not want to leave her Eddie alone on the earth. One morning, Ed awoke to the clamor of pouring rain outside his window.

He bundled himself up, kissed Mabel goodbye, and left for the bookstore. Returning home that evening, he decided to take an alternate route to avoid the mudslides from the cliffs. As he drove, he spotted a young woman standing soaking wet at a bus stop. Ed offered to give her a ride home.

She got into the car and shook off her long black hair that was dripping from the rain. "My name is Louisa," she said. She was exquisite, a raven. This nymph who had fell upon his arms enchanted Ed. They drove and talked and laughed and fell madly in love. Every day for two weeks Ed would pick Louisa up at the bus stop and drive her home. Ed was completely changed.

His amorous affections brought him new light. Ed was so in love that he decided he would bring Louisa home to meet his grandmother. That evening, when he got to the bus stop, she was not there. Puzzled, he drove to the house he had been dropping her off at for two weeks. He knocked on the door. An old woman answered in a tired voice, "What do you want?" Ed introduced himself as "Louisa's Ed, the man who had been driving her home the past two weeks."

The woman was startled, but invited Ed in the house. She invited him to sit and offered him a cup of tea. Ed asked if Louisa would be returning soon. The old woman showed Ed a picture. It was in an old frame and the picture looked somewhat outdated. A beautiful young woman was riding a horse. "How ravishing Louisa looks!" exclaimed Ed. The old woman laid the picture down on a table and sat across from Ed.

"Yes, she was very beautiful," the old woman said sadly. "What do you mean, was?" questioned Ed. The old woman asked how he had met Louisa. Ed happily told her his story of rescuing Louisa from the bus stop on a rainy night. The old woman's face went blank. She put her tea down and carefully picked up the picture of Louisa. Staring at the picture, she told it in a crackling old voice.

It was a rainy night. Louisa was waiting for the bus. When all of a sudden, a car came skidding around the corner, out of control. The old woman paused and drew in a deep breath. She was killed that night. 30 years ago. The End

Stay tuned now for adventure and excitement in the world of the future. It's entertainment for the entire family produced right here in Kalamazoo. Join us now for a voyage into another dimension. A journey into a realm as infinite and limitless as time itself. Our destination, the farthest reaches of the imagination.

WMUK Special Projects presents Future Tales. Protection by Robert Sheckley. There will be an airplane crash in Burma next week, but it shouldn't affect me here in Kalamazoo. And the Fieks certainly can't harm me. Not with all my closet doors closed. No.

The big problem is Lesnarizing. I must not Lesnarize. Absolutely not. As you can imagine, that hampers me. And to top it all, I think I'm catching a very nasty cold. The whole thing, including the cold, started on the evening of November 7th. I was walking down West Michigan on my way to get a sub when I met Charlie Lester. He's in one of my physics classes. We were both feeling pretty lightheaded.

Boy, I've had some tough exams in my day, but that was the... You got a cold? No, no, I haven't got a cold. My eyes just water, my nose runs, and I sneeze because I'm essentially a masochist.

Actually, it's psychosomatic. I hate my mother and my father. Of course I've got a cold. What do you think? Hey, well, look, don't give it to me, okay? I've got a chance at a Nazareth Junior this weekend. My boy, there's no such thing as a chance at a Nazareth Junior. Yeah, never mind. Just don't blow any germs my way. Ah, well, as a matter of fact, I'll leave you completely. I have to go back to Waldo to pick up some books. So...

At the moment Charlie left me, I had in my pocket five coins, three keys, and a book of matches. Now, just to complete the picture, let me add that the wind was coming from the northwest at five miles per hour. Venus was in the ascendancy, and the moon would decidedly give us. You can draw your own conclusions from this. I reached the corner of Steers Avenue, and I began to cross.

The truck! Watch out for the truck! Watch out! Huh? What truck? Who? What? There's no truck on the street. What are you... Oh, thanks, friend. If you hadn't warned me, I'd...

Hey, where are you? Who said that? Where are you? Can you still hear me? Sure I can. Where are you? There isn't anybody here. Where are you? Cronish. Is that the referent? Creature of insubstantiality? The shadow knows? Fantastic four? Did I pick the right one? Yes.

You're invisible? That's it. I knew the concept was somewhere in you. I... Well, what are you? A Valaduzian dirt. A Val... A what? Would you mind opening your larynx a little wider, please? You see, I'm using your sub-vocalizations to communicate. Now breathe deeply. That's it. Yeah, that's it. That's better.

Well, let's see now. I'm the spirit of Christmas past. The creature from the Black Lagoon. The Bride of Frankenstein. The Silver Surfer. Now, now, wait a minute. Hold on. What are you trying to tell me? That you're a ghost, a superhero, or a creature from another planet? Same thing, obviously. Ah, well, that makes it all perfectly clear. Any fool can see that a disembodied voice must belong to someone from another planet. Exactly.

I'm invisible on Earth, but my superior senses spotted approaching danger and warned you of it. Well, uh, thanks. Well, what are you? One of those strange voices that warns Aunt Matilda to stay out of the elevator, which then crashes to the basement? Something like that. Yeah. Well, goodbye. What's the matter? Well, not a thing, except that I seem to be standing in the middle of Sears Avenue, talking to an invisible from the farthest reaches of outer space.

I suppose only I can hear you. Well, naturally. Oh, great. Well, you know where that sort of thing will land me. The concept you are sub-vocalizing is not entirely clear. Now, look, please. Go back to one of my childhood nightmares where you came from and let me alone, huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks for the warning about the truck.

Good night. Where are you going? I'm going to that tavern back there and join some of my fellow students in something wet and effective. Won't you talk with me? Look, look, please. Will you cut out? There are two girls watching me. But you must talk with me. The real sub-vocal contact is very rare and astonishingly difficult. Sometimes I can get across a warning just before a dangerous moment. But then the connection fades. You mean that's the explanation of premonitions of danger? That's right.

Conditions might not be right for this kind of contact for another hundred years. Now, look. This is very interesting stuff for Professor Rind at Duke, but not for the physics department at Western. I've looked firsthand at the over-trouting in our funny farm on the hill, and I'm not interested in contributing to that condition.

Sights of a cop looking at me. I appreciate your social situation, but this contact with me is in your own best interest. I want to protect you from the myriad dangers of human existence. Get lost. Well...

I can't force you. I'll just have to offer my services elsewhere. Goodbye, friend. Goodbye. Oh, just one last thing. Stay off buses tomorrow between noon and 1.15 p.m., eh? Why? Someone will be killed at Maple Hill Mall.

Pushed in front of the bus by shopping crowds. You, if you're there, bye. Hey, hey, hey, now wait a minute. Someone will be killed there tomorrow? Are you sure? Of course. It'll be in the Herald? I should imagine so. Uh, wait. Not the Herald. The Gazette. And you know all sorts of stuff like that? I can perceive all the dangers that radiate toward you and extend into time. My one desire was to protect you from them. Yeah. Well, but look...

Will you wait till tomorrow evening? Those two girls are giggling now. You will let me be your projector? I'll tell you tomorrow, after I read the Gazette. The story was there all right. I read it in my room. A man pushed by the crowd, lost his balance, fell in front of an oncoming bus.

Well, this gave me a lot to think about while I waited for my invisible protector to show up. By the time he contacted me, I wasn't sure that I liked the whole idea. Don't you trust me? I just want to lead a normal life. If you lead any life at all. That truck last night? Well, that was a freak. A once-in-a-lifetime accident. It only takes once-in-a-lifetime to die.

There was the bus, too. Well, that doesn't count. I hadn't planned on taking one today. But you had no reason not to take one. That's the important thing. Just as you have no reason not to take a shower in the next hour. Why shouldn't I? Of

Fred Flynn, who lives down the hall, is now taking his shower and will leave a melting bar of soap on the tile of the bathroom floor. You'd have slipped on it and suffered a sprained wrist. Uh, not fatal, huh? No, hardly in the same class with a, let's say, a heavy flower pot pushed from a roof by a certain unstable professor of English.

Well, when is that going to happen? I thought you weren't interested. I'm very interested. When? Where? Will you let me continue to protect you? Well, now, just tell me one thing. What's in this for you? Satisfaction.

For a Valaduzian Dirk, the greatest thrill possible is to help another creature evade danger. Yeah, but isn't there something else you want out of this? Some trifle? Like my soul or rulership of the earth? Nothing. To accept payment for protection would ruin the emotional experience.

All I want out of life, all any derg wants, is to protect someone from the dangers he cannot see, but which we can see all too well. We don't even expect gratitude. Yeah. What about that flower pot? It will be dropped at the corner of Hyde Park and 53rd at 10.30 tomorrow mornings.

Hyde Park and 53rd. Where's that? In Chicago. Well, I've never been to Chicago in my life. Why warn me about that? I don't know where you will or won't go. I merely perceive dangers to you wherever they may occur. Well, what should I do now? Anything you wish. Just lead your normal life.

It started out well enough. I attended classes, did some assignments, saw the free Wednesday movies, went out, played ping-pong, and got off just like before. At no time did I let on that I was under the protection of a Valadoujian derg. Even Charlie didn't notice it, though he had a pretty good excuse. Boy, are you lucky. I got stuck in that elevator for four hours.

Say, how come you walked? I never saw you volunteer to walk four flights before. Well, a little bird told me. Well, I wish I... I wish I had a little bird like that. Why don't you do something for that cold? Why should I? What's it ever done for me?

Not even the derg had warned me about Charlie's bad jokes in time. But he did his best. And once or twice a day, he'd come around and report, Blue Sport on the ramp up to Waldo. Don't walk on it. Once I got used to it, it gave me quite a feeling of security. But the derg soon became overzealous on my behalf. He began finding more and more dangers. The End

Look out for an overhanging sign on the hotel. Where? Mexico City. Don't go to the basketball game tonight. Where? In Toronto. Look out for the Elm Street bus. Right? Omaha. Don't go surfing today. Surfing where? Tahiti. Now wait a minute. You plan on reporting every potential danger on Earth?

Oh, these are only a few, only a very few that you may be affected by. Mexico City and Tahiti? Why not confine yourself to the local picture, huh? Southwest Michigan, let's say. Locale means nothing to me. I must protect you from everything. Well, it was rather touching in a way. There was nothing I could do about it.

He simply had to discard from his reports the various dangers in places like Saginaw, Thailand, Kansas City, Angrava, Sarasota, and Paris. I concentrated pretty much on Kalamazoo. He did save me from a pretty nasty holdup in Gronson Park in a four-alarm fire, but he kept stepping up the pace. Chained food at the Union. Don't eat there tonight. Campus bus 312 has bad brakes. Don't ride in it.

Knoss Hall has a falling heating system explosion due. Skip the free Wednesday night movie this week. Rabbit mongrel on the prowl in the valley. Forget the girl for tonight. Soon I was spending most of my time not doing things and avoiding places. Danger seemed to be lurking behind every lamppost waiting for me. I rather suspected the derg of padding his reports. All my reports are perfectly genuine.

If you don't believe me, try turning on your lights in your psych class tomorrow. Why? Defective wiring? Look, I don't doubt your warnings. I just don't think life was this dangerous before you came along. Well, of course it wasn't! Surely you know that if you accept protection, you must accept the drawbacks of protection as well. Drawbacks? Like what? Protection begets the need of further protection. That is a universal constant.

Before you met me, you were like everyone else, and you ran into such risks as the situation offered. But with my coming, your immediate environment has changed, and your position in it has changed, too. Why? Because it has me in it.

It's well known that the avoidance of one danger opens the path to others. Are you trying to tell me that my risks have increased because of your help? It was unavoidable. Why, you miserable extraterrestrial cunt. Now look. All right, all right. Thanks for everything. I'll see you on Mars or wherever you hang out. You don't want any further protection? You guessed it.

Don't slam the door on your way out. What's wrong? Your risks have increased, but my capacity for detection is more than ample to cope with it. I'm happy to cope with it, so it still represents a net gain in protection for you. Yeah, I know what happens next. My risks just keep on increasing, don't they? Not at all. As far as the accidents are concerned, you've reached the quantitative limit.

What does that mean? It means that there will be no further increase in the number of accidents you must avoid. Look, if you leave me alone, my original environment will return, won't it? And with it, my original risks? Eventually. If you survive, fine.

I'll take that chance. You can't afford to send me away. Tomorrow... No, no, no, no, no. Don't tell me I'll avoid the accidents on my own. I wasn't thinking of accidents. What then? I hardly know how to tell you. A gamper is after you. Oh, a gam... What? A gamper is a creature from my environment. I suppose he was attracted by your increased potentiality for avoiding risks due to my protection. Now, look, you can take your gamper... If he comes, try driving him off with mistletoe.

Iron's often effective if combined with copper. Will you get out of here? Are you sure? Eat it. Leave. Move. Get out. Go on. All right. All right. Goodbye. Goodbye. Are you gone? Are you really gone? Good riddance. Wait. Hey, what's that? Dirk, is that you? Hey, your motor's running. Dirk, what is that? What is that?

It's a gamper. Dirt, get me out. Dirt, come back. Dirt! Did you call? Oh, the gamper. Mistletoe, mistletoe. Leave it at the gamper. Where the hell am I going to get mistletoe? Iron, copper then. Copper. I've got a belt buckle in my drawer. What's that like? It's iron. Touch it with the copper. Quick. You see, you needed my protection. The gamper almost got you. Yeah, it sure did. You'll need something.

Wolfbane, Amaranth, Garlic Graveyard Mold Yeah, but the camper is gone But the graylers remain And you'll need safeguards against the leaps, the feegs, and the melgarizer I'll give you a list He gave me a list and I went shopping I ran into Charlie at the campus market Hey Bob, where you been?

Garlic. They must have garlic. Sure they got garlic. Over here. Well, I guess you know what I came in for. Tissues? What else? Yeah, well, now let me see. Graveyard mold. Graveyard mold. You think they'd have it here? Hmm.

Boy, what's the matter with you? You look as white as a gun. I'm white as a gambler or a griller or a leaper of feet. What's that? Rat? Now, please, please, Charlie, don't bother me. I'm busy. All right, all right. Who has the nearest graveyard that would be moldy this time of year? It was a game between these extraterrestrials and I was in it.

Some of them wanted to kill me, some to protect me. None of them cared for me, not even the dirgs. And it was all my fault. At the beginning, I had had the accumulated wisdom of the human race at my disposal. That tremendous instinctive hatred of witches and ghosts. The irrational fear of alien life. For my adventure has been played out a thousand times. And the story is told again and again. How a man dabbles in strange arts and summons up a spirit...

By doing so, he attracts attention to himself. The worst thing of all. So I was welded inseparably to the derg, and the derg to me. Until yesterday, that is. Charlie came to my room to visit.

Hey, boy, how you been? I haven't seen your classroom. Mind if I hang up my coat? No, no, no, don't. Don't open the closet door. What's the matter? What's in there? Nothing, nothing. That's the only way to hold off the feet. By keeping closet doors closed, the leaps are more menacing.

The eye of a toad seems to stop them. And the Malgorizer is dangerous only in the full of the moon. Only in the full? That's it. Well, Bobby, it's big grad. Bye.

You are in danger. What, again? What is it this time? It's the thrang who pursues us. Us? Yes. Yes, myself as well as you. For even a dirt must run from risk and danger. Well, is this thrang particularly dangerous? Oh, very. Well, what do I do? Snake skin over the door? A pentagon? Burn in? None of these. The thrang must be dealt with negatively.

By the avoidance of certain actions. Right, all right. What shouldn't I do? You must not lesnerize.

Lesnarize? What's that? Surely you know. It's a simple, everyday human action. Well, I probably know it under a different name. Explain it. To lesnarize is to... Is to what? It's here. The thrang. The thrang is here. Dirt. Dirt, where are you? What should I do? It has me. What should I do? It has me. I'm going. Don't lesnarize. Don't lesnarize. No. So I'm sitting tight now.

There'll be an airplane crash in Burma next week. It shouldn't affect me here in Kalamazoo. And the feed certainly can't harm me. No, not with all my closet doors closed. No, the problem is Lesnarizing. I must not Lesnarize. Absolutely not. If I can keep from Lesnarizing, everything will pass. And the chase will move elsewhere. It must. All I have to do is wait them out.

Trouble is, I don't have any idea what Lesnarizing might be. A common human action, the derg said. Well, at the moment, I'm avoiding as many actions as possible. I've caught up on some back sleep, and nothing happened. So that's not Lesnarizing. I went out and bought food, cooked it, and ate it. Well, that wasn't Lesnarizing. I'm telling you the story, and that isn't Lesnarizing. I'll get out of this yet. I will get out of it.

I think I'll catch a nap now. I think I've caught Charlie's cold. I think I'm going to have to... WMUK Special Projects has presented Protection by Robert Sheckley. Adapted for radio by Ernest Kenoy. Additional material by Bill Rowe. Our cast included Greg Moody as Bob of The Final and Fatal Sneeze.

Bill Rout as his breezy pal Charlie. And John Stott as the foreseeing Durr. Future Tense is produced and directed by Ellie Siegel. Next on Future Tense. Even if the Earth was not attacked, just think what an advantage it would give this country over its enemies.

Young woman, I ask you, what did that flying saucer say to you? You know that what you're doing is tantamount to working for the enemies of your country. I will give you one more chance. What was the message? It was personal.

Gentlemen, I move that Miss Janet Boyce be cited for contempt. Oh, well, we'll have to have her in.

If you are enjoying these Future Tense programs and would like to hear more drama on WMUK, please let us know. Address your comments as well as suggestions for future programs to Future Tense, WMUK, Western Michigan University, Kalamazoo, Michigan. The zip code is 49001. This is Gerard McLeod inviting you and your entire family to join us every Monday through Thursday at this same time for Future Tense.

Be sure to listen. Now in cooperation with police and federal law enforcement departments throughout the United States, the only national program that brings you authentic police case history, Gangbusters. It's the case of the Dakota bad man who shed handcuffs as a snake sheds skin.

but who learned that two sudden shots at a federal agent would be repaid in kind. And now to gangbusters and facts that show the operation of our law enforcement officials in their war against the underworld. Gangbusters has asked the Honorable Victor S. Anderson, United States Attorney in Minnesota, to narrate by proxy tonight's case. The inside facts in the case of the Dakota Band. Mr. Anderson.

I know the criminal you're going to tell us about tonight was, for a long time, at the top of the list of fugitives wanted by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That's right, Don Gardner. This man, John Frederick Benson, didn't know when he'd had enough. But he was to learn that agents of the FBI are also noted for their perseverance. Well, where would you like to begin, Mr. Anderson? I think the best place, Don, would be on the outskirts of Houston, Texas.

At three o'clock on a mild February morning, exactly two years ago this week, the all-night clerk at the Palace Grove Modern Tourist Camp was fast asleep in his chair as a lone figure crept by him. The intruder walked cautiously across a dimly lit court past cabins number one, number two, and number three. He stopped at number four. He looked around and quietly tried the door. Ding!

Quiet. Jack. Yeah, it's me. What happened? How did you get out? They were taking me to the federal building for questioning this afternoon. I broke away. They couldn't shoot any kind of the people. Oh, you shouldn't have tried it. They might have killed you. I'll be better than rotting the rest of my life in jail. This afternoon? Yeah, I was lucky. I made it for the freight yards. I've been laying out in a freight car for 12 hours.

You sure they don't know you're here? I'm pretty sure. I guess they don't. They would have been around. You must be starved, Jack. I'll get up and... Don't turn on any lights. Oh, okay. I got a job for you. What? These. Oh, Jack. I don't see yet how I made it. Not with these handcuffs on.

I was lucky they let me wear a top coat over my shoulders. I used it to cover them. But how do you get them off? It's no problem with a hacksaw. First thing in the morning, walk to a hardware store and get a hacksaw. Wish I didn't have to wait that long. My wrists are practically cut to ribbons. Maybe I could use a hairpin or something. Maybe I can get them off. I'm too tired right now to try. I need some sleep. Get that hacksaw in the morning and we'll go to work on the cuffs.

Attention, Texas and Southwestern authorities. Escape federal prisoner, John Frederick Benson, described in first bulletin, this man who may still be wearing handcuffs to escape custody of United States Marshal at Houston, Texas. Caution, caution, Benson may now be armed and is known to be extremely dangerous.

Come on, kitty baby. Come on, a little more. All right, Jack. I'm trying. A little more. It's almost through. There. That's that. Thanks, kid. Didn't think I'd make it. I don't see yet how you did. Just luck, that's all. I guess you're the luckiest guy in the world. It took some figuring, too. My wrists. Well, I gotta do a lot more figuring, baby. We're still too close for comfort.

Tourist cabins are okay, but when they're looking, that's the first place on the list. We gotta get out of here. Yeah, I suppose we do. Yep. Gotta get out and fast. They want me now worse than ever. Jack. Yeah? What happens now? Where do we go? Gotta get a heater. Gotta find some place to lay out for a while. It takes dough, dough. Everything takes dough.

You got any left, Kitty? A little. How much? Three or four hundred. Good, good. That'll help some. Where you got it? In my suitcase. Good girl. Jack, take the money and leave me here. Are you kidding, baby? No, take it. What's the matter? You want to stay here? I can't go through that all over again, Jack. I can't see them get you again. I can't. What do you have to go through? I'm the one they're after. You talk like I don't mean anything to you. If you didn't mean anything to me, would you be here now? Would you have those cuffs off?

Yeah, I'm sorry, kid. Guess I wouldn't. Am I crazy, Jack? Why do I see only good in you? Everybody else sees bad. If they're right, I'm crazy. I guess you only see what you want to see. Let them think I'm bad. Will you care? Do you want me with you, Jack? I gotta have you along, baby. You're my insurance. They take one look at the two of us together and nobody's suspicious. We can go anyplace and do anything. We're just an ordinary couple of people.

That's not much of a reason for me. Look, kid, you know you count first all the time, but I think for the next couple of weeks I can't do much traveling. I got to light someplace and stay there. Where? Well, how about Kansas, your sister's place? No, Jack. I don't want to get her mixed up in it. Who does want her mixed up in it? It's a big farm and far away from everything. You said she needs help since her husband died. You won't like a farm. You'll get restless. What do you think I was raised on?

You wrote Nora. You were married. Writer, you're bringing your husband for a visit. All right. That's what you want. We can stay there till I get my bearings. Yeah. Maybe it'd be a good idea to cool off on a farm. Rotten stuff. Hey, who needs... Jack? Yeah? Yeah?

I brought you back some cigarettes from town. Thanks. Of course, you might have let me know you were going. I've been having a wonderful time here pitching hay. Well, you were still sleeping and I didn't want to wake you. You got in so late. All right, Kitty, so I got in late. Besides, with Nora and the kids there, wouldn't have been room in the car. Nora and the kids are making me sick. I got all of this farming I can take. Three weeks isn't so long and they're still looking for you.

They're looking for you hard. Yeah, let them look. Any jail would be better than breaking your back in this kind of work. Where'd you go last night? What do you care? Well, you didn't get in till so late. Okay, I didn't get in till late. I went to mail a letter. Oh, I see. It's to Harry Porter in Omaha. I want him to line up somebody for me. Good gunman. Then we're leaving here? Haven't you had enough? I guess you have. There's big news in town, Jack. What?

Yeah? The state bank at Cackley was broken into last night. Oh. What do you want me to do about it? You promised, Jack. You promised you'd lay low and stay out of things. I don't go in for safe crackings. I'm a gunman. How did you know the safe was cracked? I didn't say it. Well, don't all banks have safes? Hey, what are you trying to make me walk into? You were out late and there's no place to go. I ain't never broke into any place before. That's not my line. The talk is it was an amateur job. Forget it. It had nothing to do with the thing. Now, let me get finished up here.

Yeah, Jack. That'd be a good idea. Oh, um, Nora wants to fix supper early. She's taking the kids over to the McLaughlin's later. Yeah, the kids. They give me a pain in the neck. Come on, let me get some hay pitched.

Hello, Sheriff. Oh, Haynes. Anything new? Sheriff, this is Special Agent Dyer, also of the FBI. He was sent down from the Kansas City field office to help out in the investigation, Sheriff Laney. How are you, Sheriff? Glad to have you, Dyer. We need all the help we can get. Have you been able to turn up anything, Sheriff? Oh, well, like you suggested, it could have been somebody local. I don't know.

I had my deputies checking up on the people around here. Anybody suspicious? You know how it is. We know almost everybody in the county. Known them for years. There's a few people we might check into, though. Oh? For instance, out at Lem's garage on Topeka Road. Lem took on a new mechanic, a stranger, a week or ten days ago. Might talk to him. We could. And then there's that new couple out at the widow Emmett's, Jack Rogers and his wife.

She's Nora Emmett's sister. Been there about three weeks. Haven't seen much of him, but she's been around with Nora and the kids. Is there anything suspicious about this Jack Rogers? Well, no, can't say there is. Got a car and seems to have money. The Emmetts are good people. Well, have a look at them, too. And there's three or four others. I've got them listed here. All right, Sheriff. We'll check on everybody beginning tomorrow, just to play safe.

Kitty. Kitty. In here, Jack. In the kitchen.

We're crying out loud. Where are you when I want you? I'm just fixing lunch for the kids. What are you, a nursemaid or something? Let Nora take care of her own kids. She went to town. What, again? Does she have to go to town every day? She's been living the life of Riley since we came. I pitched the hay, you take care of the kids. What is this? After all, Jack, she's been awfully nice to us. Well, let her get a couple of hired hands. We're pulling out anyway. As soon as I hear from Harry Porter. Jack, you promised you'd stay until the heat's off. You promised me. Well, I had enough farming. I...

Nora? No. She said she wouldn't be back till six. Take a look out the window. Who is it? It's not Nora. It's a man. Cop. I'll talk to him, Jack. I'll send him away. Where are the kids? Upstairs. Go up and keep them there. I'll handle this. Be careful. Please be careful. Go up and take care of the kids. Let me talk to them. I'll handle it. Jack, you're not going to use that gun. I gotta, yeah, and I'll get up there. I'm gonna meet them on the porch. You get up with the kids.

Yeah, mister? What can I do for you? I want to talk to Jack Rogers. I'm Jack Rogers. Oh. My name's Dyer. I'm a special agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That's so. I understand you... You understand too much. Rogers!

Jack, you shot him. Sure I shot him. I told you I wasn't going back. What are you going to do? They knew we came here. There must be more of them around. What do you think I'm going to do? I'm getting out the back way. All right, Jack, I'll get ready. No, kid, this time I have to travel light. I'll get in touch with you. But I want to go. There's no time. They got nothing on you, kid. You don't tell them a thing. You don't know a thing. I won't tell them anything. Goodbye. I'll see you. So, Don, that was the situation. The criminal, John Frederick Benson, shot and critically wounded an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation who attempted to question him.

Benson fled the scene and left the girl, Kitty, alone to face the other law enforcement officers. Now, back to gangbusters. You were telling us, United States Attorney Anderson, that the fugitive, John Frederick Benson, shot and critically wounded a special agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, then dashed out of the back of the farmhouse, leaving the girl, Kitty, to face other officers who came to check on the missing officer. That's right, Don.

When Sheriff Laney and Special Agent Haynes arrived, they placed Kitty in custody and rushed Special Agent Dyer to a hospital. Later, at the sheriff's office, the girl was being questioned by the officers in their attempt to get a lead on the whereabouts of Benson.

I'm telling you, I don't know where he is. I don't. I know. You traveled all over the country with Benson. You were at the farm together three weeks. He must have mentioned where he counted on going when he left. We were going to stay for a while. There wasn't any thought of leaving. The FBI agent he shot might die. I know. I'm sorry. Being sorry doesn't help much. If you want to help, tell us where he went. I... I don't know. He must have given some indication. I don't know where he went. Please believe me, I don't.

All right, miss. That's all. You mean I can go? Yes. Yes, you can go. Now? Yes. As much as we'd like to hold you, there's no charge we can place against you. I see. Have you got any place to go? Back to the farm, I guess. For a while. Then I don't know. All right. If we need you, we'll be in touch. I'm sorry I couldn't help you more. So are we. Thank you.

Well, Sheriff, she's on her way. I hope you get something out of it, Haynes. Me, when I get somebody that belongs in jail, I like to keep them there. Sheriff, Benson's a lot more important than she is. And if he knows she's out, maybe he'll arrange to see her.

Hi. Hello. Jack, eh? What do you care? What are you drinking? I'll buy you another. Never mind. Your name's Mix. Harry Porter said I might find you here. Yeah? How is Harry? Okay. Is his ear still giving him trouble? Yeah.

It's not his ear, it's his stomach. That's right. It is his stomach. He said you was looking for somebody to go in business with. Maybe I am, but not here in Omaha. I'm free to travel. Makes, huh? That's it. Gun, boy?

Nothing else. Okay, I'll think about it. I gotta think about it too, Jack. You're a pretty hot customer. There's not many who shoot up G-men and are walking on the street to talk about it. I never talk about it. Especially in bars. It's a nice quiet place. Let's go for a ride. There's not so many ears in automobiles. Come on. Come on.

Special Agent Haynes. Haynes, this is Marshall. We just got a teletype message from Minneapolis. The girl, Kitty, got there on the train this morning and bought a bus ticket to St. Ishmael. St. Ishmael, North Dakota. St. Ishmael, huh? Benson's got relatives there. Yeah, I know. We're already watching them. Okay, let's move in a little closer. Get plane reservations for Minneapolis. We'll work out of there.

Okay, Megs, you'll do. Thanks, Coach. I never thought I'd make it. Look, if there's one thing I don't like, it's wise guys. Take it easy on the cracks and take it easy on the talking. What's eating you, Jack? If a guy's got no sense of humor, he's got nothing. I got nothing to laugh about. It's strictly business, Megs, and remember that. Okay. Well, when do we get started? Ever worked at the Cotas? The Cotas? What's up there? Plenty. You know where to find it? Why take such a trip? I've got a way of operating, Megs. It includes having a girl along.

Make things look good. The girl I want along is up there. Ah, yeah, that's not a bad idea. I got a girl, too. One's enough. Yeah, yeah, one's enough. As long as she's yours. If you don't want it my way, Megs, you can get out right here. Okay, all right. You got a traveling companion. Don't get excited. That's the house, Haynes. Kitty moved in the day before yesterday.

We got a mail check on the place. No letters from Benson. What about the phone? Well, that's going to give us some trouble. What kind of trouble? Benson... Now, stop and light a cigarette. I want a better look at the place. It so happens that Benson's aunt is the night operator. I didn't want to plant anyone in the exchange. If she spots him, it might clear the works. Okay. But keep agents posted around the exchange every minute the aunt is on duty. Will do.

The manager of the exchange has no connection with Benson. Good. I don't think Benson will have nerve enough to come right to the house. He might figure it's covered. But I'm almost certain he'll try to get in touch with Kitty. And if he does, we want to know about it.

Kitty? Jack. I want to make this short and sweet, baby. I'm close. I'm going to come by for you. Jack, maybe you oughtn't to. It'll work. Is my aunt home? No. She went to see a friend before work. Okay, I'll get in touch with her when I get in. She'll tell you where to meet me. Be careful, Jack. Be careful. Don't worry about me. I'll be all right. I want to get off this line so long. Goodbye. Okay, Meg, let's get out of here. Sit down, will you, Jack? Let me finish my drink. All right, then. Make it snappy.

Oh, you're calling that dame? Yeah. She got a friend? She don't live in this town. Oh. Well, who cares if she's got a friend? Hey, when do we get this baby yours and where? I'm getting curious. We don't have long to wait now. You ever hear of a little place called Sainish? Should I have? We're driving there right now. Good, good. That's where we take on our extra passenger. Now get finished up. We got 50 miles to drive. Okay, okay.

Haynes. Yes? The manager of the local telephone exchange just got in touch with me. There was a call to Kitty. It came through from Bismarck. From Benson? He doesn't know. He just saw the ticket. He happened to go by the office and the ticket had just been filed. Is Benson's aunt on duty at the board? No, she's not scheduled to come out for another hour. Okay. We'll get in touch with the police at Bismarck to be on the lookout for Benson there. And we'll keep a double watch here in town all night. Crossman and Gould on the house. You and I at the telephone exchange where we can cover any more calls. Now back to Gangbusters.

So this is sanish, huh? Yeah, this is sanish. I can see why you left it at such an early age, Jack. What do people do around here for excitement? They sleep. Watch where you're driving there. Stop sign. I see it. Okay, go on. Stop sign they need there. Why, to see the cows coming? That's the telephone exchange in the middle of the block. You mean your aunt's got to stay on duty all night?

The next call's around here at night. Pull in over there. Okay. Why don't we go to the dame's house? I'm doing this. All right, turn off the lights. Okay. What do you need a gun for here? I didn't need it back in Kansas either, but I used it. Come on. I'll wait here. Come on, I said. Oh, okay. All right, we go around the back. What's the matter with the front? Nobody's there, but you're right. We'll go around the back. We'll miss trouble to see a dame. Come on, shut up.

That's far enough, Benson. What? Cops. Get him! Jack! Okay, hike him up, hike him up. That's it, that's it. Okay, take it easy. Where did the bullets catch Benson? The heart, I guess. He's dead. Okay, wait here till the coroner comes. I'll take care of this one. Go on, you. Start walking. Okay, I'm walking, I'm walking. Just a minute, I'm coming. Oh. Hello, Kitty. He's not here. I swear he isn't. I know he isn't. Two in the morning and you're all dressed.

You weren't expecting to go out? I was up reading. Oh, I thought you might be going out to meet Benson. That's not so. It is so, Kitty. And you know it. What do you want? You can't come in here. Can't I? I came to tell you, Kitty. Benson's dead. Oh, no. He tried to fight us. All right, you better come along with me.

He wasn't bad. Not really. He was good to me, honest, he was. He was good to me. I don't doubt it, Kitty. But being good to you wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He wasn't very good to his victims, nor to the FBI agent he shot. Come on, let's go. That, Don, was the end of one of the most intensive manhunts in recent years. John Frederick Benson died by the gun, the way he expected to thrive.

And the same finish faces any man who thinks he's bigger than the law which governs all of us. Thank you very much, United States Attorney Anderson, for this pointed case history. And gangbusters congratulations to all the law enforcement officers who participated in the investigation leading to the conclusion of this case.

Tonight's case was dramatized by Stanley Ness and directed by William Sweets, with Ken Lynch and Charlotte Lawrence in leading roles. Don Gardner speaking. Gangbusters is a Phillips H. Lord production. The Green Hornet. He hunts the biggest of all game, public enemies that even the G-men cannot reach. The Green Hornet. The Green Hornet.

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With his faithful valet, Cato, Britt Reid, daring young publisher, matches wits with the underworld, risking his life that criminals and racketeers within the law may feel its weight by the sting of the Green Hornet. Ride with Britt Reid as he races toward another thrilling adventure, The Green Hornet Strikes Again.

Hurry, Kato. We're about to break a real estate racket. Farm by proxy. I want my money back. Buy now. Only a few eggers left. Fortune and fun. It's a racket. I want my money back. It's a racket. It's a racket.

Hello? This is the Franklin Farm by Proxy Company. Mr. Franklin isn't in yet. Hello? You saw Ed and the Clarion? Well, I'm Mr. Franklin's assistant. Yes, drop in here any time. The Farm by Proxy Company, that's right.

Mr. Franklin come in yet? Didn't you see the sign on the door? He's out. I'll wait. If you want to buy some acreage, I'll be glad to. I've already been roped in. What's that? You ain't fooling me. Now, just a moment, Mr... Nevins. Oh, yes. I thought you looked familiar. You bought the acreage several days ago. Yeah, here it is. That on the wall map.

Nevin, that's a fine section. Southern Slope is perfect for apple orchards. You can have it. Why, is something wrong? Plenty, lady, and you know it. Well, I'm afraid I can't do anything about it. Are those two men in the outer office waiting for me? Oh, yes, they're reporters. Reporters? From where? The Daily Sentinel. They are.

Is that so? This man, Mr. Nevins, wants to see you, Mr. Franklin. He has some sort of complaint. Complaint? You sold me five acres in your farm by proxy scheme, and I want my money back. Scheme? I don't like that word, Mr. Nevins. Oh, I suppose it ain't a crooked... Now, hold on.

The Franklin Farm by Proxy Company is absolutely open and above board. You know our proposition. I know it by heart. We have a large block of land given over to apple orchards. We plant trees, take care of them for five years, and at the end of that period, the trees are mature enough to bear fruit. You told me that. For your initial investment now, you stand a good chance of getting five times your money in five years. What about the cost of taking care of the land? Naturally, you pay for that.

We merely do the work at your expense. You didn't say nothing about that when I signed one of your contracts. You should have read the contract, Mr. Nevins. And that ain't all. I went out to see that land. You went there? It's all rock. You couldn't grow moss on it, let alone apples. Well, that's your opinion. We don't agree. Never mind the talk. Do I get my money back? That's impossible.

I tell you what we will do, though. I'm listening. Where is Mr. Nevins' property? Right here, Mr. Franklin. This pen. Fine. We'll give you a switch, Nevins. Instead of the five acres here, how about these five over on the... Blast your mouth! Your whole land's worthless. It's a racket. If you don't give me back my dough, I'll... I wouldn't lose my temper if I were you, sir. The rest of our clients haven't any complaints? They haven't seen the land like me. Let them be suckers. I don't care about them. I'll see a lawyer. Go right ahead. That's your privilege. Listen...

You grab 500 bucks off of me. Suppose I talk to other folks. Well? What are you going to pay me not to let on what I know? Not a cent. You won't even pay me to keep my mouth shut about your racket? Get out before I call the police and have you put out. We have a law-abiding business. You have a contract and we're holding you to it. Why, you, I ought to break your... Don't try it. A gun? You can't threaten us in our own office. Sally, call the police. All right. All right, I'm going. But I'll get even with you racketeers if it's the last thing I do.

Okay, Sally, hang up. I hope he does see a lawyer. That contract's so foolproof, nobody could wriggle out of it. Too bad I had to pull the hardware on him. Can't use talk all the time. He was sort of nasty, Frank. Sure. The poor sap saw 500 bucks go bye-bye.

And he'll have to keep on paying for five years. Besides, he's no angel. Did you hear the way he talked about the other suckers? Yes, that's right. He'd be crooked, too, if he had our brains. Forget him. We'll have to clear up this map and see those reporters. You're going to see them? Sure, why not? They're from the Sentinel, Frank. What of it? Well, they're pretty tough on rackets. We're on the right side of the law. Dick?

They can't prove anything. Besides, we sold practically all the orchard land already. What can they do? Get those contracts back? No, but... Well, there you are. Let those reporters ask questions. We got all the answers.

Hiya, Casey. Come on in. You two back so soon? Holy crow, that ain't no crime. I thought you were out getting a story on that farm by proxy complaint we got this morning, Lowry. Sure, me and Lowry both. That's where we came from, Casey. Now, how about it? Golly, youngster, what are you waiting for? Press the button and tell me it were back. What for if you didn't get anything? Says who? One look at your face, Lowry. That's all I need.

You mean you can look at me face until I didn't get no scope or nothing? With your face, Axford, I can always tell what you're thinking. You can? Yep. It's always a blank. This is no time for repartee. The boss. Good grief. I'm getting him. He was on the phone. Yes, Miss Case. They're back, Mr. Reed. Oh, Lowry, did he get anything? My guess isn't enough, Mr. Reed. Well, send them in. Miss Case. Yes, sir? Check on the name and address of the man who made that complaint this morning. Let me know. You two get... Hey!

Hey. It's okay, Casey. We heard and we obey. Hey, Reed. It's a racket, all right. Come in. Let's hear it. Was Miss Case right about her guess? Casey hit it on the nose, boss. This guy Franklin has a con game that's as airtight as a diving belt. Just exactly what is it? This man who called this morning gave nothing more than a hint. Franklin's selling worthless land, Reed. Yeah. His angle is apple orchards. Apple orchards? He's got a nice big map and a smooth line.

Franklin and his dame feed the customers a high-powered line about the profit in apples. Does he make any specific promises? Not him. That's how he stays inside the law. I see. They use clever hints to make people think there's a profit to be made in the future. Yeah, so they make him a present of the dough. Contracts? Nothing there, boss. He must have cheated hundreds of poor people out of their skin. Now, one moment. Yes, Miss Case? Here's the information you wanted.

That fellow's far more disturbed today than he was the other day. What's the man's name? Carl Nevins. And his address? 17 Weston Drive. I see. Thanks. Is that the guy who called this morning and made the complaint? His name is Nevins. His case said he seemed even madder now than he was before. Holy crow, you can't blame him. Falling for a line of applesauce. I want something that's that looking print, Laurie. Tell me how and I'll get it if I have to dig to China. Have you seen this property? The land they're selling? Yes. I know where it is, but I haven't been out to look.

I wonder if it might be worthwhile. You want me to hop out there tomorrow? Me and Lowly will get there early. Will you stop butting in, Axford? But, golly, maybe you'll need a man of action like me. Not this time, Michael. This is at the other extreme. Reed, you don't mean Subtail. That's it.

That's my dish. Listen, you big lugger. Now, Lowry goes along. But play safe, Lowry. If possible, try not to reveal that you're from the Daily Sentinel. Find out as much as you can as carefully as you can. But, boss, there's no headline out there. You take the assignment. I'll decide on the headline so long as you get the news. That evening in his apartment, Britt Reid spoke to Cato, his faithful valet and the only living person to know him as the Green Hornet.

It's an odd situation, Kato. These confidence racketeers are undoubtedly jipping the public. Yet they're careful to stay within the limits of the law. I see, Mr. Smith. Lowry's going out to see that land tomorrow. He's going to keep his identity as secret as possible. Secret? Lowry believes that's necessary in order to get information for a story. Actually, my purpose is quite different.

I want Franklin to believe Lowry is there for some other purpose. What is that, Mr. Baird? Here, Cato. Look at this map. Yes, sir. Right here, circled in red, is the land which Franklin is selling in his farm by proxy racket.

You notice these wavy brown lines? Here? Now, those are contour lines, Cato. They show that Franklin's acreage lies along a peculiar rock formation. It's definitely not the kind of land that would raise good apple orchards, Cato. I see. Yet we can use that formation of land for something entirely different from apple orchards. We can use it to plant a certain idea in the minds of those racketeers. I don't understand, Mr. Bailey. You'll see as we go along. Did you get the money I asked for? Here. Fine.

I'm going to give this money away, Cato. What? I have a plan which requires the help of someone besides the Green Hornet. Can I help you, Mr. Bitt? At the present moment, you're to stay here. I'm going out tonight to call on one of Franklin's victims, a man by the name of Nevins. Who is he? He bought some of that property, and he knows he's been cheated. He got the Green Hornet mask and the gun. Yes, sir. There's a lot of money here.

I don't know whether Nevins will turn out to be the kind of man I can trust, but there's no other way. Here, Mr. Bates. Oh, thanks, Cato. The gun is loaded? Yes, sir. How about the Black Beauty? It's all checked, Mr. Bates. All right, Cato. I'll be back as soon as I turn this money over to Nevins.

Kind of late for anybody to be calling. I'd have been in bed an hour ago, except I can't sleep thinking about them blasted racketeers taking me in on their scheme. Might as well see who it is.

What do you want? It's late. Your name is Nevin? Who wants to know? I have some money for a man by that name. Money? Sure, sure. I'm Nevin's. Come in where I can see you. I will. You're wearing a mask. Do you recognize it? Listen, I know you. I've seen pictures of that mask in the papers. You're the Green Hornet. Stay away from this door. I ain't done nothing. You saw Franklin this afternoon, Nevin. You're with him. I didn't mean them threats, honestly. Stop shaking and take this. No, wait. I tell you. Don't shoot. Now, look. Money. Money.

Bills. Didn't I say I had some money for you? You mean it's for me? Go ahead. Sure, sure, but I don't understand. There's a string attached, Nevins. As long as it's money, I don't care how many strings. I see. You're not especially particular, are you? Why should you ask? You're a crook, Nevins. I don't care any more for Franklin than you do. Yeah? Yeah.

I'd like to get even with that guy. And that dame, too. That's what the money's for. Huh? I want you to be my agent. Agent for what? To buy property from Franklin. What are you getting at? That property's worthless. You ain't no sucker. For obvious reasons, the Green Hornet can't buy property. I've chosen you, Nevin. But I don't... Don't be your silent partner.

I want all of Franklin's land you can get. You're crazy. That land couldn't grow apples. I'm not interested in apples. And what are you after? Look at this letter. But it ain't addressed to nobody. I tore that part off. After all, I can't reveal my real identity. Read it. I don't... Read it. Okay. It says... What? What's this? Oil? You mean there's oil on that land? That letter tells the story. Oil, huh?

No wonder you want to buy it. Use that money. You bet I will. I'll buy all I can grab. You and me, huh? Franklin's clever. Be careful he doesn't get suspicious. Not him. He wants to sell. If he thinks there's valuable oil, he'll never let it go. How's he going to know?

He cheated me. Now, I remember one thing, Evans. I have no way of knowing that you won't double-cross me, but I advise you not to try it. Sure. You can trust me, Hornet. For your sake, I hope so. Good night. Good night. Sure. You can trust me, Hornet. You can trust me to get that property from Franklin and maybe capture the Green Hornet and the bargain.

The curtain falls on the first act of our Green Hornet adventure. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a moment. ♪♪

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Now to continue our story. After leaving Nevins, Britt Reid went to the dark alley where he had parked the Black Beauty. Nevins doesn't seem like the sort of person who'd be on the level. Just because he's fallen a victim to Franklin's racket doesn't mean that he couldn't be just as unscrupulous himself. Perhaps I'd better make certain that Nevins doesn't have any chance to double-cross the Green Hornet. No!

Britt Reid returned to the apartment and got his valet Cato. Then together they drove across the city to the apartment where the farm racketeers made their home. On the way, Britt Reid stopped to make a phone call, first removing his green hornet mask. Hello? Nevins? Yeah, who is it? I saw you earlier this evening about a certain proposition. Oh, you're the green... No names, not over the phone. Okay. And what'd you call for? We haven't arranged a place to meet.

You're going to buy that property tomorrow. Yeah, that's right. I'm going over sometime when... I mean, when he's in. Be at your place tomorrow night at 11. What for? Using my money, do as I say. 11, huh? You're going to be here? I want to see the results you had. Be there at 11 o'clock. You can expect me.

Who is that? Move over and take the wheel. I spoke to Nevins, Cato. Yes, Mr. Red. I told him to be at his place tomorrow night at 11. He'll be there, Mr. Red? Nevins expects the Green Hornet at that hour. I was very careful to let him get that impression. Where are you going now? I'll take my mask, Cato. Here it is. Head for Franklin's home. You know where it is. You told me. A lot of innocent people have put their savings in Franklin's farm-by-proxy scheme. It's up to the Green Hornet to see that they get it back. The Green Hornet

Well, kid, here's luck. In a couple of days, maybe a week, and we get rid of the rest of that land. Yeah, and I thought you was crazy when you bought it. Here's luck. Crazy like a fox. Cost us five bucks an acre, and we're selling it to the saps for a hundred. What do we do when it's all sold? Skip out with the cash? What for? Well, the police might... Wise up. We got contracts. The police can't touch us.

No, we stick around. Why do that when you're... Because we get more dough that way. You know what those contracts said. You mean about us servicing the land for them? Yeah, farm by proxy. They get gypped when they buy it. And for five years after, they have to pay out whatever we want to charge them. Suppose they don't want to pay us for farming. Well, if they don't pay, we take the land back. Get it? Yeah, we sell it over again. That's the racket.

How are they going to know that we charge them for repairing fences and spraying trees? Jobs that we never do. Suppose they squawk. Let them. That sucker was in today. He squawked. Uh, Nevins? Yeah, that's the guy. He ain't got a snowball's chance in midsummer. The law's on our side. I wish I could be sure. I know it. I've been in plenty of rackets and never been caught yet. Why? Because I'm always careful to stay inside the law. You're smart, Frank. You ain't telling me. Now, come on. Finish up that drink and I'll pour us another. Okay, I... What's the matter with you? Frank, I...

Hey, you dropped your glass. Behind you, a man wearing a mask. What? Don't try anything, Franklin. You, that mask. You're the Green Hornet. A stick-up. You can't do this. Stay away from that desk. For God's sake. I'll put a bullet through him. Get back. No, you don't. There's another man behind you with a gun. It's right, Frank. Oh, two of you. I thought you might have a gun in here. I'll remove the bullets just to make sure.

There. What do you want? You own a certain piece of property. What about it? You've been selling that land. Sure we have. I want a list of the people you've sold it to. A list? You can't do anything. It was legal. A list. What do you with the names? Do I get the list or do you want a dose of gas? Gas? No, I... Well, you can't get anything out of those suckers, Hornet. I already picked them clean. I'm sure you have. Then what are you going to do with it? I'm after that list. Either you give it to me or I gas you and search for it myself. Well, I... Make up your mind. I'll get it either way. I don't know what you want it for, but okay, here it is.

I want to see Franklin. You again. He told you yesterday, Mr. Nevins, you can't get your money back. The sale is... Who said anything about getting it back? I want to see him for another reason entirely. Oh, he's in here. Visitor to see you. Nevins.

No use arguing again. He said it's something else. Yeah, that's right. Well, make it snappy. I thought maybe I could buy some more of that land. What? Well, I got to thinking it over and I figured maybe your scheme was okay. About the apple orchards, I mean. You're not telling the truth, Nevins. Me? Something has changed your mind since yesterday. We haven't many acres left to sell, Frank. Why not get rid of them? Shut up. I'm handling this. You've got to sell it to me. Pretty anxious, huh? Well, will you or won't you? Why? What do you mean?

There's been some funny things going on lately. Why do you want that land? What do you care? I got the dough. Well, I'll have to think it over. Look, Franklin, if you don't want it, give me a list of the other people who bought it from you. What...

Did you hear that, Frank? Yeah, I heard it. You're the second guy who asked for the list. I'll pay you twice as much as the other. Who told you to come in here? Why, uh, nobody. I just, uh... You're too dumb to get a hunch by yourself. Hunch? Has the guy with a mask been seeing you? Well, I, uh, no, of course not. Fitting all over your face. Can I tell you that? You ain't telling nothing. I'm telling you. It's the Hornet. The Hornet? Come on, talk. The Green Hornet put you up to this, didn't he? He asked us for a list. Same thing you wanted. I didn't know. He told me to... Yeah, I got a good idea what he told you. What do you mean about... One of my boys called in from the property.

There's been some guy snooping around out there. Wouldn't give his name or state his business. Just looking. Are you going to stall all day? Reach, Nevin. Hey, now look. You don't need no gun. Sally, he's got something in that pocket. He's been fingering it since he came in. It ain't money. I left the money the Hornet gave me at home. Whatever it is, get it, Sally. Okay. Must be important or you wouldn't keep handling it. It's nothing but a piece of paper. Give me that. Get back.

Hand it here, Sally. Frank, it says oil. It's a report from one of them geologists. Oil. So that's it. Don't say where. It's a fake, I tell you. A fake, huh? Not after the way you come in here. Not after the Green Hornet last night. That guy's snooping around. He must have been checking over for spots to drill. Get out. Listen, you can't. I'll pay you double. Three times as much. Go on back and tell the Hornet he made a mistake. He should have picked a front man who's smarter than you'll ever be. I'll give you five times your price. There's the door. Now get going before I... Okay. I'll see those others myself. You won't see them because you don't know who they are. You chisellers.

taken my idea. Just like to see the Hornet get back that dough. Outside. We got to work fast, Bank. Oil. Get all the salesmen moving. We got to buy back all the land we sold. All of it? Sure. This report don't point to any particular section. We'll get them all back. Play safe. We'll have to pay plenty. We'll give them ten times as much money as we have to. It's oil. We better get busy. The Hornet has a list. But the Hornet can't go around seeing people in the daytime. We'll use Nevins. Then we got to get those acres back first.

Now get busy. I want every bit of that land back in my possession by tonight.

Well, Mrs. Carlson, what do you say? I don't understand, Mr. Franklin. You sold me this land in the first place. I'll give you just what you paid for it, Mrs. Carlson. But you said I'd get a profit. I'll absorb that. Three times as much. Well, in that case, I... Fine, now. Just sign it over to me. And here's your money. Fifty, one hundred, one fifty, two hundred. Here you are.

That's right. Our company has decided to assume all the risk itself. Instead of waiting five years, we'll give you your profit now. Hey, that sounds okay to me. Here's your contract. And here's your money. Thank you.

Not one refusal yet, Frank. Guess none of them know about the oil. Keep after them, Sally. I want all of them. All of them.

I went out to that place, boss, but got nothing. Franklin's property, the acreage he's selling, and his farm by proxy plan? Yeah, I fished around, but there wasn't anything out there. One of Franklin's men got suspicious. He told me not to give my name or mention the paper. You're excited about something, Lowry. Let's have it. You know what Franklin's doing? Should I? It's all over town. He and that dame are buying the land back. What?

Why should they do that? Search me. I'm not in the racket. We'll see if we can find out why. Let me know. Okay, boss. It's screwy, all right. In about two hours from now, Franklin will get a letter...

telling him he's allowed himself to be fooled. A report proving there never was any oil there and never will be. Reed, oh, God, Reed, this time you will never... Axford, what's wrong? It's not wrong, boss. For once, Axford may have something. It's the harness. What? We got the tip. He's

He's going to come to a certain place tonight. Yeah, at the home of a guy named Nevins. Nevins, eh? Wasn't he the man who called the shuttle complaining about Franklin's racket? That's the baby. I'll just give me a call from headquarters to give me the tip about Nevins. He called the police? Holy crow. The Green Hornet must be in with Franklin. You think so? Suffering snakes, he must be. Sounds hot, boss. Eleven o'clock, eh? Well, we'll keep the front page clear of this. May be a false alarm. Ah, really? But if the Hornet's caught, it'll be the biggest headline we've ever had. You said it. And Ed Lauer's going to be right there for a personal interview. Oh.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

That night, several people gathered in Nevins' home, all tensely watching the clock. Suffering snakes. You get more jittery than a jitterbug dancer. You're sure he's coming, Nevins? I know what I'm talking about. Listen, Doyle, you have this place surrounded. How's he going to get through? They got orders to do nothing till they heard from me. Anyways, Lowry, how can they tell he's the Green Harlot or not? All

All he wears is regular clothes, and it's too dark to see the mask. We don't know. We're waiting for him. We'll catch him in here cold. Hey, Nevins, what have you got to do with a hornet in the first place? I told you. He tried to rope me into something. There he is. Go ahead, Nevins. All right. Be sure and watch him.

You're the guy I want to see, Nevins. Hey, he ain't the Green Hornet. That's Franklin and the woman. What is this? This man Jifters, him and the Green Hornet. Told us there was oil on the land. We bought it back from the people. What? You bought it back? Holy crow. Is there oil out there? There is not. There never was oil there. It's a scheme. Nevins...

You were in it with the hornet. You can't pin it on me. I did what I was told. You rat, I ought to knock it off. Shut up, all of you. Franklin, you fell for it. All those people you gypped got the better of you. Golly, where did the hornet fit in? I don't know what he's trying to do, but he hasn't fooled me. No? I still have the money. Shut up. It's 11 o'clock. Hey, look out. Someone turned off the lights. Let go of me. Let go. Holy cow, where is he? I can't shoot without a rag and sea. Take it. He's going. Get him. It was him. Put on the lights. There. There.

Oh, he's gone. Went out that door. Blast him. He took it. Suffering snakes. Took what? The money. He gave me money to help him. So that's why he came. You tried to double-cross the Hornet and he took his dough bag. And he sure wiped these racketeers off the sledge. Hey, Doyle, blow that whistle. Your men are waiting for a signal. Doyle! Golly, Doyle, look. Doyle's laying on the floor. He's been gassed. Now the police will never get...

There he goes. Blast him. Why don't those cops close in? All they'd catch now would be dust, Franklin. The Hornet made sure Doyle couldn't blow that whistle in time. He gets away, and we're left here holding a lot of worthless property. You got no better than he deserves. You and your crooked apple orchards. Sure. The Sentinel gets a headline, and you get a lot of applesauce. That's the luxury packer! Green Hornet involvement is burned by proxy rackets!

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The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Green Hornet Incorporated. The situations and characters depicted in this drama are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons or events of the past or present is coincidental.

Presenting Orson Welles as the Third Man.

The lives of Harry Lyme, the fabulous stories of the immortal character, originally created in the story The Third Man, with Zither music by Anton Karan. The police of Milan, like the police of any other town in the world, can sometimes be mistaken.

When they got certain mistaken ideas about me, I didn't stay around to put them right. I thought it'd be simpler just to leave town. So I took the morning train down to Genoa and had lunch at the Riccote Ciardi's. The Ciardi himself brought me brandy after lunch, compliments the house to an old customer. And when we both had our backs turned, a fly lit on the edge of the glass, and it wandered off drunkenly along the tablecloth. And I took up a newspaper from the neighboring table, folded it, and swatted it. I missed the fly, but I saw the ad printed at the top of one of the columns on the back of the paper.

Wanted, it read. Wanted multilingual publicist to promote young lady 23. When I translated that into English, it meant that they wanted somebody who knew a few languages. Well, I did. As for promoting a young lady of 23, I'd be qualified there by inclination and by experience. So I topped off the brandy, said so long till later to Richard, and went out to the streets. Carried the streetcar, and carried up the hill. The advertisement had given an address.

The street happened to be one I knew overlooking Genoa Harbor, on the hill above the church.

Melody Johnson wasn't home when I got to the address on the hill above Richard's. Melody Johnson. That was the name given in the ad. I didn't know she was a Dixieland trombonist or a sheet music company, but it turned out she was neither. The old Italian landlady let me in and there were photos of Melody all over the house. The landlady said it was very sad that Melody, though she was so beautiful, had to work for a living dancing at the Genoa Palace, which was where she'd be after eight that night. I took another look at those pictures.

pity on Melody and made my plans for after eight. In the Genoa Palace dance hall, among those dark Genoa girls waiting for dance partners, picked out Melody Johnson, even if I hadn't seen her photos. She had hair the color of red clover, honey, and blue eyes that might have been a size or two too big except that on her they were just right. One more ticket, the band went into a slow rumble, and I abandoned myself to Melody.

You rumba beautifully. You don't do so badly yourself, honey. But I've had so much training. You say that as if you had regrets. Regrets is a nice word for corn. Oh, yes, my training's been very thorough. It began back home in New York. Well, I wanted to see the world. So you joined a show or a dancing troupe and came to Europe and the outfit went bust and left you stranded here, right? That's just about how it started.

Thanks for the back. Yes, thank you. But you, you're an American too, aren't you? That's right. Are you over here in Europe on business? More or less. My name is Harry Lyme. Does that mean anything to you?

Don't answer. All right, I won't. Mr. Lime, I hope you've brought enough tickets so we can have the next dance. Watch your whole evening. Look here, with these tickets, we can dance all the way to the French frontier. Then let's walk out in the garden. It'll be dark and we'll be alone. We can talk, can't we? What else could we possibly think of to do? Well, we actually got down to business after a while.

It seems that Melody Johnson wanted to hire somebody to promote her interest as a beauty queen. She looked like a beauty queen. But as I was kissing Melody Johnson, my sixth sense told me instinctively that Melody was off-key. Give the joke to the five senses. She was a beauty queen, all right. But something made me think there was something more that didn't meet the eye. So that's all there is to it, hmm? You want somebody to sell you as a beauty.

Motion fixes me. Beauty contest? Cabaret? Yes, Harry. Oh, there's just one thing more. The person will have to be ready to travel. Oh, when and where? Very soon. Very, very soon. As to where, well, I'll tell you that when you've told me you'll take the job. Will you take it, Harry? Oh, Melody, suppose you give me a day to think it over.

I was in my usual hangout in January. Richard is the next afternoon. Thinking it over and reading the papers. And a fellow with very much the look of a Milan police officer came in. Did he know the whereabouts of one Harry Lyme? He asked Richard in. I've never heard of a guy of that name, answered Richard. Of course, in Italian. I went on reading the paper, lifting it a little higher, in fact. I tied my face, but I remembered what Melody Johnson had said. The person who took the job she offered would have to be ready to travel. Well, I was ready to travel very soon.

Goodbye to gentlemen. Frank Helens. Ooh, that awful job in the dance hall. Not if they're that cheap out here. No, not goodbye to Italy, Harry. No? Not quite. The ship stops at Naples on the way. That's right, and Alexander. Then where? Cairo. Cairo. That's because of the beauty contest, Harry. You want to be Miss German's geezer? Because of the honor and the publicity value. And then there's a big money prize. Mentioning money reminds me of something. Look here, let's just move a little further on down the ship rail. We can overhaul ourselves.

Now, isn't there something you want to tell me, Melody? I don't understand what you mean. Well, this is what I mean. You want somebody to publicize you and promote your interests. Yes. That's very natural. But what about this? Doesn't it seem you...

It's the least bit queer, honey. You have to work in a taxi dance hall to keep yourself alive. But, Harry, I told you about the gambling. You told me you fell in love with Monte Carlo. With roulette. All right, but since roulette proved bad for your financial health, isn't it odd that you bought both of us first-class cabins on this ship? Very deluxe accommodation. No, Harry, it's not odd at all. No, it is. There was nothing else available. All the other space on the ship was sold. Oh.

I thought it was a possible explanation. Maybe it was a real one. We're spacious up where my stateroom was. A decade high up. We had a steward for every three or four cabins up there. The best service. Mine was quite an unusual fellow, my steward. I asked him about himself when we were an hour or two out of Genoa. He just brought me in some fresh towels. Here you are. Thanks, steward. Hey, you're not Italian, are you? Do you remember asking? No.

Well, that was his story. Then at his country's embassy in Brussels when the Russians lowered the curtain on the world at home, and since then he'd done one job or another. Said his name was Balkov, Magyar, some such language, Paul in English. I said that was what I'd call him. Told him I probably would be a lot of trouble.

But whatever you will require, sir, I will be at your service. Oh, thanks. I only mean, Paul, I expect to be out of the cabin by the time. By the way, if I'm needed, message or anything of that sort, you probably better try the vicinity of a passenger on the upper B deck. That's where I'm likely to be. The passenger's name, sir? A young lady, Miss Melody Johnson. I'm sort of employed by her, you might say. Can I get the two? It's mentally good. She's only... I have, of course, heard of Miss Melody Johnson.

The beauty queen of Monte Carlo, I believe. That's right. That's right. That's right. That's right. She was. I can tell you are a very fortunate man. To know her, to be employed by her, I can tell she's a very beautiful woman. Never seen her yourself? I have never seen her. But she has been described. Well, Paul Stewart wasn't the only one who took a special interest in Melody Johnson.

It was up to a certain point because it was natural. Melanie was probably the most beautiful girl afloat. How nice it is up here on the deck. So nice and lonely. Just think, in the morning we'll be in Naples. Harry, are you listening to me? I'm looking at you, honey. Can't you listen to me for a minute? Divide my attention. No, seriously. I have a confession to make. There's something I haven't told you. I didn't want to hire only a publicist to promote my good looks.

Well, I suppose what I really wanted was sort of a bodyguard. Oh. You know, may I tell you something? Okay. The other night, when I learned who you were, I was frightened a little because of your reputation. Things I'd heard about Harry Lyme here and there. But now, being alone with you, I feel secure. I'm happy. I'd be happy, too, if we were alone. They built that housing back six or eight yards in.

Good evening.

After the salt air? Excuse me. Excuse me that I have intruded on yourself and the lady. I stopped it only to light my cigar. Well, that's all right, old man. I don't apologize at all. Only take a tip from me, senor. Next time, don't light your cigar after it's already lit. Goodbye, old man. When I squired Melody to her cabin, I went back to my home. Somebody had been there before me. The cabin had looked gone over, but one or two small things were out of place.

Had somebody found a way to break in? The little Italian fellow with the lit cigar, appalled the steward? He could have let himself go without any trouble. But what was whoever it was looking for? What did he want? I checked through my thing. Nothing was missing. It wasn't until the next day when we docked in Naples that I began to get some idea of what it was all about.

Stop along here, driver. Yes, senorita. This is one of the best views, Melody. Of course, that's Vesuvius over there. Harry, let's get out of the car for a better look. Well, we'd better do that, honey. Driver, drive on, will you please? Harry, why are we going? We haven't had a seat yet. Well, we didn't stop, dream girl, for the view. That Alfa Romeo right behind us has been following us all the time. We stopped to see if he'd stop, and he did, so he's following us. Well, in the back seat is somebody called Minelli. Minelli? Mm-hmm.

The inquirers are coming to the port this morning, and his name is Manelli. I mean, any of you? Manelli? Oh, I don't think it does. Well, he seems to take some kind of special interest in you. He's tagging us now. Well, Melody, since we couldn't manage to lose Mr. Manelli by car, maybe we can do it by foot. I know what he wants, Harry. I may as well admit it. Now, wait a minute. Do you know what he wants?

Well, maybe you ought to tell me. Well, I didn't know if I could trust you. You'd better trust somebody. Oh, I've been so scared. I haven't known what to do ever since I've had them in my possession. Ever since you've had what in your possession? The pearls of Bohemia. The pearls of Bohemia. I have them in my handbag now. Pearls of Bohemia. Oh, if we only get away from the Nellie somehow. I'll tell you all about it. I wish you would. The Pearls of Bohemia

Harry Lyme returns in just a moment. Harry Lyme

As the ship pulled out of Naples for Alexandria that afternoon, there was a tea dance on the lounge. I want to tell you now, all about the pearls. Okay. Before having a wedding star. Why not try the beginning? That sometimes works. Yes, yes, the beginning. Well, well, I suppose the beginning was Monte Carlo. Anyhow, I went into the casino. And you had the bad luck to win. Oh, it wasn't even that. I just fell in love with the roulette wheel without any real reason. But

But it was so exciting, the wheel whirling, all that money, the calls of the A. I know, but I've had a go at you myself. And since then, since Monte Carlo, I've gambled everywhere. Vienna, the new Cursal in San Marino, Lindau, Lake Constance, all those places.

I've met a lot of wicked people. Yeah, you had what you might call a crook store of yours. Yes, yes. That's what it might be called. You see, Harry, I've got gambling fever. Well, but your luck hasn't been so hot. No, no. Face it. And that's how I fell into the hands of Zicky. That's the whole name, Zicky? No, no. He has an unpronounceable first name. He comes from somewhere near Prague. I'm not sure exactly. But it's behind the Iron Curtain now, anyway.

He got away, escaped from the Russians, and went to Paris. And you met him in Paris and played two-card tarot with him and lost your best ruse on honor of a hat. No, I didn't meet him in Paris. Oh, you mean when he came later? Yes. He'd been the valet of the Count of Bohemia. The valet. Oh, then it was the Count he met in Paris. Yes. He rejoined him there. Oh. The Count had only two things left, his prize.

And the pearls of Bohemia. The pearls from the ancient crown of the Count of Bohemia? They're romantic. Oh, I haven't any idea what they're worth, but it must be a fabulous amount. I can imagine. Now, why don't you tell me how these pearls got passed along to you, honey? Well, in the first place, Vicki stole them. Oh.

Vicki stole the pearls. Then what did Vicki do? Oh, nothing for a while. I suppose he was afraid to move. Oh. Oh. And finally, Vicki did decide to try to dispose of the pearls. Yes. I met Vicki and me. I'd been losing at roulette, and Vicki lent me money to try to recruit. Oh. And then we played cards against each other, and as you said a minute ago, I lost my hat. The grim picture takes shape now, doesn't it?

Ziki, am I right, said he'd put you in the way of a means of paying him off. Yes, that's what he did say. You would dispose of the pearls. Yes. So natural and simple, isn't it? In Egypt, this is supposed to be, right? There's a buyer in Cairo. Well, you know what Cairo is. It's more or less. The shadier side of some Egypt. Well, all right. If you're going to take the pearls of Bohemia to Cairo and sell them... The money is to be paid to Ziki in Italy. Some kind of...

bank transfer. I don't really understand it. But thinking on receiving the money tears up your IOUs, which is what concerns you. Yes. Now you know it all. The whole tawdry story. It just occurs to me, Melody, that you may have a little difficulty getting those pearls into Egypt. That's the custom. Oh, I thought about that. I lie awake at night thinking about it. You won't have to worry at all, honey. I don't think I know what you mean. Just this. Mr. Manelli, at least, is after those pearls. He or somebody else may get them before we reach Egypt.

Then you wouldn't have to trouble yourself. Well, let's muggle them in. Well, we talked on a little longer about any tangible results. She didn't feel understandably that losing the pearls to Minnelli was the right solution to the problem. But how was she to be sure of getting them past the Egyptian customs and on to Cairo?

We tried the question on several ways, but it didn't seem to be a very good fit. Then we left the subject and our drinks and went out on the dance floor. I took her in my arms. That fit was all right. While we were dancing, a man came into the entrance. The ship's loud. Stopped a minute and stood looking around. Melody, you didn't get a look at him up on the deck last night. I only even got a good look at him during that chase in Naples today, but look now. There he is. That's Minnelli. That man standing in the door? Yeah, the very one.

What is it? Hey, even a face like yours won't stand that kind of plowing. Why the frown? That man's name isn't Manelli. You know him? I've never met that man, but I remember his appearance. He was pointed out to me a year or so ago. Oh, yes. Somewhere on the Riviera. Oh, I'm trying to recall the name I was told. His name is Vittoria. Vincenzi Vittoria. Wait a minute. I met him myself, but he was an international jewel thief.

Incentive Victoria? They're well known. That's what I was told when that man there in the door was pointed out to me on the Riviera. Incentive Victoria saw Melody and named her on his heel and disappeared. I left Melody in the lounge but supplied myself with a key to her cabin. It occurred to me that Incentive Victoria might think of having a look for the pearl bear while Melody herself was lost in the wonders of Harry Lyme and the war.

The door was locked, but I don't think none of this stateroom was just as she'd left it. There was a man inside. Oh, sir. Oh, it is you, Mr. Lyon. That's putting the ladies' dainties back in those wardrobe drawers, I assume? Oh, yes, sir. Yes, yes. That is just what I am doing. You know, Paul, there may be two or three things wrong with this picture. Shall I enumerate them for you in order? Okay, this isn't your deck. This is B deck. And if it wasn't B deck, this isn't your block of stateroom.

But anyhow, the pearls of Bohemia aren't in those wardrobe drawers, so you're wasting your time, old man. I understand. I must apologize. Well, you have to apologize to the lady, not to me. But maybe you owe me an apology after all. Was it you who went through my cabin last night, Paul, old man? Yes, I did, yes. Looking for the pearls, of course. Yes, that is what I was doing. You know, Paul, this could get you into bad color with your employers here on the ship. A steward who wants to be light-fingered and passage his property...

his property? The pearls of Bohemia were stolen from their owner by a man named Ziki. The owner did not wish to have the foreign police arrest the pharaoh countryman of his, but he had Ziki privately watched. Ziki passed on the pearls to Miss Johnson, and the owner was very much surprised to discover himself that Miss Johnson was sailing for Egypt on this ship.

The owner supposed that she was going there to dispose of the parents. I see. Well, look, come on out to my cabin. I would like some. Oh, may I? I could not do that, sir. It would not be proper in the Stuart. I must decline. I deprive me of the chance of telling my grandchildren I once had a drink with a count of Bohemia. We'll drink together, count. Talk this whole thing out. We made good times, Alexandria.

Melody was still worried. Harry. Yes, honey? What about these pearls? What am I going to do? You're not going to do anything, honey. You can give them to me. I know a trick or two. Smuggling department. Mind if I take this stool here beside you? The use of a bar is a treat to all. There isn't any need for us to be too polite to each other, Mr. Minnelli. Or should I say, Vittoria? My business with you is business.

See, I interest you. I am listening. That's all you got to do, old man, is listen. Pat, one thing more. One thing more is pay me 2,000 Egyptian. Believe me, I'm giving you a cheap price. I have any opportunity here on shipboard to find out the real value of the pearls of Bohemia.

Besides, I want a quick payoff and a get-out-of-town kind of deal. You are offering to sell me the pearl? You are remarkably astute, old man, and I'm glad to see you come up to your reputation. Yes, that's right. I haven't here. I see. But ask yourself before you wonder if you ought to knock me over the head and steal them from me if you, Vincente Vittoria, known jewel thief, ought to risk taking them through the customs.

Or shall I take them to the customs and deliver them to you intact in Alexandria for the small price of 2,000 Egyptian pounds? Done? A bargain? I thought it would be, old man. I've got anything to declare, Mr. Lyme? Uh... To the Egyptian customs? Well, my dragoman has got my bags, but you'll find nothing dutiable in them. I have these pearls, though. Here, see? Sixteen or twenty of them. How do they value, Mr. Lyme? Oh, not much. A few of your Egyptian fiat, this...

Exceed for yourself, they're not real. Harry Lyme returns in just a moment. All right.

And now, Harry Lyme. Those pearls were imitation. Pretty convincing. Convincing enough anyhow to deceive an expert like the Enchanted Vittorio. He's an honest man of his particular sort and promptly paid me the 2,000 Egyptian pounds when I turned the pearls over to him at a little sidewalk cafe in Alexandria. The pearls ought to have been convincing, of course, because they were made for a very special use.

When this is asked to build, some such lady, you know, goes to the opera with a couple of hundred carats of diamonds on her fingers, they're very likely to be paste. Perfect duplicates, fine imitations, and the real diamonds stay locked up at home or in the bank. That's what fellows like him change the theory of darkness to the world of the upper classes, and the world of Bohemian counts is just about the same. So it happened that Count Paul of Bohemia had in his steward's locker the imitation set that matched the real pearls of Bohemia, and I got the real pearls from Melody...

Well, I just traded. Melody had said, you remember, that Count Paul had only two things left, his pride and his pearls. He kept his pride, and I thought he might just as well have the pearls, too. Now, all of this left me somewhat under obligation to Melody.

Quite a few people in Cairo, so I may have had something to do with her being voted Miss Pyramids of Giza. The prize money got her out of debt to that fellow Ziki, anyhow. Then there was the dough I got from Victoria for the phony pearls. Melody and I had a lot of fun spending those 2,000 Egyptian pounds. But that, as the fellow says, is another story. So long for now, and remember, all that glitters is not gold, but it ain't hay either.

That's it then. Right.

Better get down to the basement, I suppose. Not the safest place in the building, is it? Some of those walls are pretty thick down there, Mr Hughes. Yeah, a lot of good that'd do if the whole bloody building collapsed on top of us, I must say. Do you think the bombing will get worse, Mr Hughes? Oh, I think a lot of things will get worse before they get better, son. Come along, down we go. Namely, being cooped up for eight hours with Messieurs Smithers, Jackson and Conway. What a motley crew we are, eh?

clambering about in dungarees and tin hats, hoping to stop the second fire of London with a bucket of sand and a stirrup pump that wouldn't give you a decent wash. It's better than nothing, I suppose. What do you bet, Raymond, that Smithers says as I open the door? Well, Hughes, certain the building's empty. LAUGHTER

Well, Hughes, certain the building's empty? Yes. No one here but ourselves, eh, Raymond? Yes, Mr Smithers, the building is empty. Stirrup pumps are in position, sandbuckets filled, and we're all fed, watered and fully clad and in our right minds. At least I am. For God's sake, don't be an old woman. It is my job to make sure everything is as it should be.

Mr. Drayton, you signed the duty book. What? If you would be so kind as to tear yourself away from that novel you're reading, I asked if you'd signed the duty book. Yes. Oh, no, I haven't. No. Anyone got a pen? You should have brought a fountain pen with you, together with a notebook. You can get a nice thick one from Woolworths for a penny. Oh, for God's sake, must we go through this palaver every night? Dammit, there are only six of us. We all know we're here. Yeah.

Question is, are we all there, prancing around in tin hats, playing with stirrup pumps? May I remind you, Jackson, that it is 1940 and there's a war on? Well, I'll tell you something. If nothing happens by two o'clock, I'm going home. Well, it is our duty night, Jackson, and here we all stay until daybreak.

There's a full moon tonight, and that could well mean an air raid, a heavy one. If this place goes up in flames, it'll be our responsibility. Rubbish! If incendiaries fall on the roof, they'll most likely burn themselves out. There's nothing we can do apart from sit here and wait for someone to dig us out. Always supposing we aren't flattened. You forget that there's one who watches over us. So long as we put our trust in him...

All will be well. The perpetual optimist. Here's your intelligence, man. At this moment, people are dying violently all over the world, and he isn't doing a bloody thing about it. And we're flirting with death every time we go up on the roof to an air raid. I have formed a philosophy that I would advise you to follow. So long as the war continues, look upon yourselves as already dead.

Well, then every day that finds you still breathing is an unmerited bonus. I think that's an unduly pessimistic viewpoint. Oh, God, do you have to start, Conway? Why don't you keep quiet and let them get on with it, like me? I hope I'm entitled to express my views as well as anyone here. Democracy is what this war's about. As I was saying, I think what Mr Drayton says is unduly pessimistic. A Christian has no fear of death.

As he knows, it's only a doorway to paradise, a place of eternal bliss. Just a moment. If this place is so good, what are you hanging round for? Are we to understand you're looking forward to dying? That is a stupid question. Of course I want to live as long as possible. It would be a mortal sin to wish otherwise. What I intended to imply was simply that under the circumstances... Here they come. You won't be going home tonight, Jackson. No.

All right, lads, you know what to do. Grab your gas masks and put your helmets on and enter your posts. Young Raymond, you will man the telephone. Come on now, best foot forward up on the roof. Oh, don't panic. There can be anything up to ten minutes between the siren sounding and the arrival of the first planes. Then the damn things have got to fight us, which in all probability they never will. So calm down and stop prancing around like a fussy old hen. Now, look here, Jackson, I've had just about enough of you. You're a damn stupid little... Oh, naughty, naughty. What would the Godbox meeting say?

You know, I wonder why you take the trouble to come here if this is the only attitude you can take. That's a question I often ask myself. Probably because watching you getting hot and bothered is better than a tonic. Breaks the bloody monotony. I do not get hot and bothered! Oh, please, gentlemen. This continuous bickering is not conducive to peace of mind, which all of us badly need in these trying times. Now, might I suggest that if you can't address one another in a civilised manner...

You declare a non-speaking truce. But he started it. He always does. Everyone knows that. Shall we get ready and take up our positions? Unless I am mistaken, enemy planes are already overhead. Yes, you're right. Right, come on up the stairs, everyone. Go down. I've left my gloves behind. Hold on a moment. Oh, no, you don't, Jackson. We haven't time to waste. Raymond? Yeah, OK, I'll get them. Where are they? On the shelf by my bunk. Hurry up, Raymond. We haven't got all night. Can't see them.

That was close. I'm getting nearer. Is everyone all right? My leg's trapped. Help me, someone. All right, just a minute.

I thought we'd had it. Come, why hurry, man. Right. There you are. Thanks. Can you help me back down to the basement, please? Well, we all made it then. Christ, I thought my time had come.

God saved us. I said a prayer when I heard that one coming, and he must have heard me. Pity he didn't turn the bloody thing round and send it back to where it came from. The question is, where do we go from here? You notice something? What? The knife's still on. Only just...

It is still on. The bomb must have glanced off the outer wall. The hole is blocked by a fall from higher up. Sooner or later the ARP boys will dig us out. Gentlemen, I think we must face facts. The raid is still going on. I think it must be an extremely heavy one. Now, it's quite possible that no rescue beam will be made until after daybreak. If not later. Now, in the meantime, it may have escaped your notice that the ventilation system is no longer working.

May be coming down to us through the roads. I wouldn't count on it. Don't worry, lad. We'll manage somehow.

Having been spared from a blast, it's inconceivable that we should suffocate. It might be inconceivable, but it's quite possible. Oh, can't you stop that boy snivelling? Things are no worse for him than for the rest of us. Oh, I can't agree with that. The situation is far worse for him. Most of us have got, what, ten years left? The very best.

He might be good for another 60. He has every right to more... Oh, damn that for a tale. I intend to hang on to whatever time's left of me. I propose we start shifting some of that rubble outside and try to get through the sidewalk. My very thought.

If we get properly organised, it might be possible to break through in time. What do you say, Mr Drayton? Well, it'll certainly keep us occupied and it may be successful. We'll have to move with extreme care or the whole lot will be down on top of us. Right, now let's get cracking. Come on, Raymond, stir yourself, lad. Now you take my box of matches and light all the hurricane lamps. We'll need them when we tunnel through all that rum. Yes, yes, Mr Smith. Jackson, you have a shot at trying to raise someone on the telephone.

He's got some bloody... Well, you never know. Electricity's still coming through, so the phone cord's still be working. What the hell are you doing, boy? Can't you get those hurricane lamps lit? I can't help it, Mr Hughes. I'm shaking all over. God help England if they ever get you in the army. You'd be Hitler's secret weapon. Come on, Raymond. Come on. They don't know we're going to ask. Come on. Stop it, Richard. Stop it.

Now just wrap yourself up in these blankets and keep warm. There's enough of us here to do what can be done without your help. Hello? Hello? This is the fire-watching post at Mansfield and Hedges. Listen, will you? We are trapped in the basement. Oh, for God's sake, let me get a word in. Hello? Hello? What's the trouble? Have you got someone? Well, I'm not talking to myself, am I? Some girl or other who keeps on asking if there's anyone there.

Seems I can hear her, but she can't hear me. Give it to me. Hello? Hello? This is the firefighting post. Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can... What's happened? I'm telling you, she can't hear us, but we can hear her. The line went dead. Never mind, we'll try again later. Come on, let's get to work. Oh, there's not a hope of getting through this lot.

The slightest movement will bring the ceiling and whatever's above it down on us. Yeah, but we must try. We can't give up now. Oh, please yourself. I'd say I haven't warned you. We're not doing too badly. Six steps are clear. There's this whole cavity here in the left wall. Hold the lamp steady, for God's sake. Drayton. Drayton, what are you doing? What's the matter? There's a body here. Body? You sure are...

I mean, how could that be? Well, look. See for yourself. OK. But who the hell is it? Yeah, exactly. Someone standing by the wall outside when the bomb fell? No, that's not possible. No, they would have been blown to bits. Got the full blast. No, he must have been on the inside, on the stairs at the time. What the hell are you talking about, man? There was only us on the stairs. There couldn't have been anyone else. Well, the body's still warm. Can't have been dead for more than an hour.

Maybe he fell from above. The ceiling's still intact, so he can't have come from that direction. Look, I don't think there's much pointing going on with this fruitless task. I suggest we leave off for a while and give the matter our full consideration. Raymond's asleep. Lucky sod. I'm going to try the phone again. Maybe whatever was wrong with it has been put right. Hello? Hello? Oh, damn it. Not a dicky bird. Guess the exchange has been hit.

My God, they're going hammer and tongs out there tonight. Perhaps we're in the best place after all. The air doesn't seem to have got any worse. The light has. Doesn't seem as bright as it was, or am I imagining it? There's one point I'd like to clear up. Smithers, were you at the top of the stairs? Did you have the door open? No, I had my hand on the handle, but the moment I heard the bomb, I let go and tumbled down the stairs with the rest of you. Yes, that's what I thought.

I suppose there's no way the door could have been blown open and then closed again before the wall collapsed. I don't know. I was thinking that if someone had been sheltering in the upper passage, they might have been, what, blown in? Well, it's most improbable. I mean, if the door was opened by the blast, debris would have kept it open. I mean, what are you getting at, Drayton?

I have arrived at the stage where the possible must be discarded and the improbable considered. Having confirmed that the door could not have been opened and that there was no one on the stairs except ourselves, I am reluctantly, very reluctantly, drawn to only one conclusion. And what's that? Gentlemen, I am going to ask you to consider the possibility that one of us is dead.

I always thought you were potty-draped and a bloody crank, out of touch with reality. But by God, you've gone too far this time. All right, then offer me another more sane explanation. You can't, eh? No, none of you can. Now, believe me, I would have kept this diagnosis to myself, but whoever it is that has left his earthly body back there on the stairs must be made to realise his position. Consider the possible fact that it is you lying out there.

That's the horrible part of the entire business. Whoever it is doesn't know he's dead. Look, just suppose you're right. How can you explain why a dead man should walk around with a normal body when the one he's been born with is lying under several tons of bricks? All right, all right. I will try to answer that as best I can. Now, it is quite possible...

that we all have two bodies. One of dense material that we use in this life and the other that, for want of a better description, is comprised of higher vibrating atoms. When there is a violent death, shock can result in an unnatural phenomenon. The vibrations can be slowed down and in rare cases...

exactly match those of the defunct body. Now, hold on a moment. Look, I can quite well see if that is the case, the poor bleeder doesn't know he's dead, but how long does he carry on like this? I'd say, if we can't settle this problem beforehand, devibrating won't start until someone from the outside enters this room. What happens then? The secondary body will become invisible, but will still be here, become what is commonly called a ghost.

that can be seen by certain people when the conditions are favourable. Rubbish! All of you must be mad just to listen to him. When you're dead, you're dead. Finished. Do you fully understand what he's saying? One of us is a bloody ghost? I mean, honestly, think about it. Go on, way. All 16 stone of you. According to Mr Drayton, you could be a spook. Or you, Smithers. Gah!

Far cry from your nightgown heart playing angel wing paradise. Huh? What about young Raymond over here? He's snoring like a pig, but I suppose you haven't ruled him out. As a matter of fact, at the moment, you are my number one suspect. What? That might be why you could hear the girl on the telephone, but she couldn't hear you.

This is a local affair. Figuratively speaking, you wouldn't exist outside this shelter. My pulse is beating 13 to the dozen. I'm solid, warm, with blood streaming through my veins. If I was to hit you, you'd feel my fist. How the hell can I be dead? I have just explained that. I'm not dead. I'm not! If there's any truth in all this, it must be one of you. Smithers, you are higher up the stairs than the rest of us. I bet it's you.

Come to think of it, you've been acting strangely since we came back down here. Admit it, man. You must know. No, it can't be me. I mean, I didn't lose consciousness for a single second and I'm bruised all over. Wait a minute. Conway, you were up first, full of energy and so far as I can see, not a scratch on you. It must be you.

No. If that's my body out there, then my legs must have shrunk. Mine are like tree trunks. Right, Mr Drayton? Gentlemen, this is getting us nowhere. Earlier I advised you to regard yourselves as already dead. Now I am suggesting you do just that, literally. Let us all say, I am the one. Accept that you are a dead man still functioning among five live ones, then whoever it is will be free. Free to do what? Free to leave this place. Ah.

Raymond's awake, I see. Well, now, how do you feel, lad? Oh, I feel... I feel funny. All woozy. Any chance of a cup of tea? You've got some hope. Can't think why you should feel funny. You've been sleeping your head off while the rest of us have been sweating blood. I had a strange dream. Somehow I got out of here and was walking down Canbury Street. Bombs were falling everywhere, but they didn't seem to bother me. It was as though I knew that they couldn't hurt me.

Then I came to the ARP post and went down the steps into the basement. There were several men seated round a table, including Mr Sinclair, who's in charge of our office. But when I tried to explain what had happened here, he ignored me. Do you remember leaving the ARP post? No. No, I suddenly wanted to be back here with all of you. Then I was just outside, looking at a great pile of rubble that completely hid the entrance. There was a man waiting. Can... can you describe this man? I think so.

although he wasn't like anyone I'd ever seen before. I had the impression he was dressed in black, a kind of long robe. But it was his face that demanded my full attention. So white, it almost shone. And the eyes were very large, very dark and bright with, well, pity, intelligence, knowledge, I don't know, perhaps all three. Then he said, only I don't think he said anything. I just heard the words in me head. Don't go back in there. You belong in another place. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. Doubtless you have no reason to believe that the experience is anything more than a particularly vivid dream. No, of course not, no. What else could it be? What indeed? I must tell you that there is a body half buried under the ruins of the outer wall and there is no way its presence can be explained unless it is one of us. Is this some kind of joke? Not of our making, Paddy.

This damn business is getting madder by the second. We'll settle this matter once and for all. Do what should have been done in the first place. Dig the damn body out and try to find out who it belongs to. Very well. We'll do what must be done. But every one of you must be prepared. Accept my word that the man I will name is the one. Know for an indisputable fact that you are dead and have no right to be in this place. Oh.

Should the body be mine, I will not linger. That much I can promise. Well, Mr Drayton, what did you find out? Whose body lies in there? Under it, I found this. It is a pocket edition of Pilgrim's Progress. On the inside of the front cover is inscribed, To Harold Smithers, from his good friend Arthur Brown. It's you, Smithers. You're dead, man. Dead! And, oh, most merciful God, I am alive! May I be forgiven.

Did not. He's gone. He's not here. Well, that was to be expected. He knew at last and accepted. There was no way he could remain after that. He's free. Maybe as time passes, we'll try to believe that none of this happened. Pretend we were all suffering from shock, illusions, and perhaps that'll be for the best.

Raymond, it's all over. Sounds as if they're digging a way up there. That means you'll soon be home. Getting yourself wrapped round powdered egg and tin bacon, eh? How do you feel about that? Fine, I think. But are you sure it's all over? I still feel funny. Bound to. We all feel funny. But we're not all crawling on all fours. You must forget all about this. Take Mr Hugh's advice. Pretend none of it happened. Ten minutes or less, you'd find them down here.

I bet they'll be surprised to find any of us alive. I suppose there's no point in us giving them a hand. What's the matter, Drayton? What are you looking so miserable about? Well, I fear I have to tell you. What's the matter, man? When I was in the hole, you may remember there was a fall of rubble. It was soon after you left and I continued on my own. Well, that fall uncovered another section of the wall. It also revealed four more bodies.

So, there are four more bodies. There's been a damn great air raid and there must be quite a few bodies lying around. Please, don't make me spell it out. You'll know. Don't listen. You start grieving, Matt. We've humoured you over Smithers, but this is too much. I don't understand. What in God's name are you talking about? He's suggesting that we've been playing the wrong game. Not who's the ghost, but...

But who's the live one? The answer is himself. Right, Drayton? Never mind me. Just believe. Accept your condition and go. Go! Go before they break through. Don't get trapped down here, forced to haunt this place forever.

I was saved by a fluke. You all fell on top of me and then the blast lifted you off again. That man. The one in my dream. He's out there picking him. Please don't make me go. The lights. Going out. Hey, Harry. Get some light over here. I think there's someone alive. I'm here. Can you hear me? It's no good, Raymond. The lights.

You got them lights, Harry? Aye, that's it. Yes, I'm right. There is someone. Hear me? Give me your hand. That's it. You the only one left. I think so. Merciful God. I think so. MUSIC

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