DEATH LAUGHS LAST: Justice Wears a Grin in the Dark, and Vengeance Waits With a Smile!
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The Black Museum. Affiliated stations present Escape. Inner Sanctum. Light. Present Suspense. I am the Whistler.

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

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

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

Come in. Welcome. I'm E.G. Marshall. Between the years 1694 and 95, William Shakespeare completed his first tragedy. By far the loveliest of them all.

It is drenched in the sunlight of golden love story, darkened to a gray evening of sorrow that laments the death of bright youth and ill-starred love. A story for all men and women of all seasons. Romeo, what time tomorrow shall I send to you? At the hour of nine. I will not fail. Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I must say good night.

Till it be morrow. Our mystery drama, The Love Song of Death, was adapted from William Shakespeare's tragedy, Romeo and Juliet, especially for the Mystery Theater by Ian Martin, and stars Christopher Tabori and Morgan Fairchild. It is sponsored in part by Allied Van Lines and True Value Hardware Stores.

I'll be back shortly with Act One. There's nothing very new under the sun. And in the Italian city of Verona, where our story begins, a feud as formidable as the Hatfields and the McCoys, a vendetta vicious as the Ghibellines and the Ghents in Florence, was the enmity between the Montagues and the Capulets.

Our story begins with a brawl between servants of the Montagues and Decapulets. A brawl which Romeo's friend and cousin, Benvolio, nephew to Lord Montague, is trying to stop. Put up your swords, you fools! Are you all mad?

If you'll not beat me, I'll beat them down. Come on to you with a sword drawn. Here's fair game for a capulet's shibbles. You stain your noble seal against these common blades. Turn to your equal and meet your death. I'm trying to stop this fight. Put up your swords.

Help me part these hands. They are steel in my hand and I should listen to talk of peace with them unto you. I hate the name as I hate hell. Have at you, coward. Hold off. It is the prince. Drop your swords, you enemies, to peace. On pain of torture, disarm yourselves. Or by the living God, I'll have my soldiers tear the steel from you and run you through.

Now, hear me carefully. If ever any of your families disturb our streets again, I'll hold your lives forfeit. So, once more, on pain of death, all men depart. Till later then, Benvolio. When Capulet meets Montague, then Sparks must fly.

I was trying to stop the brawl, Mercutio, when Tybalt challenged me, acting like a madman. And so he is. One day I'll call that heavy-tempered braggart out and teach him a lesson. In God's name, no. You heard your uncle, the prince. I am neither Capulet nor Montague. The prescription does not apply to me. Don't risk it, Mercutio. I value your friendship too sincerely. As I yours. And your kinsman, Romeo. Where is he? Where is he?

I have happier news for all of us that may lift his mooning gloom and put some sunshine in his smile. As well I hope you can. I am, to be frank, between ourselves, heart-sick over his calf-love for straight-lipped Rosalind. Please, here he comes. As solemn as a calf in heat. Hey, Romeo! Hey! Hey!

I bid you morning, good Mercutio. Benvolio. I bid you morning. Why, here's a death knell for a day beginning. Are you sick? I am in love. That's a sickness. It is, when the lady is so far beyond me. What are you, stupid, ill-made, gross, ill-mannered? In her eyes, I suppose, she is a Capulet. And you a Montague. I'm always the pity. I take exception to that. I meant only because of Rosalind.

How can I get near her to pledge my suit? That is the very reason for people like myself. Suppose I could arrange that you will meet this lady by tomorrow night. Oh, then I would grasp you to my bosom as friend forever. And I would know that at that hour, my life would first begin. So, Juliet, you come from your mother? Yes. Oh, not pleased then. She had something to tell you.

Yes. Concerning the mask ball tonight. Yes. About a young man and being married. Yes. A kinsman to the prince, young Paris. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, now, here's a pretty state. Your old nurse who held you at her breast. Have you no more to say to me than yes, yes, yes? Good nurse, I beg you. Not ready yet for love. You mean you have not found the man. Don't try to tell me you're not a woman yet. You cannot fool your nurse.

Well, let's make you ready then, as my lady Capulet has ordered me to, to set you out like some delicious pie to be gobbled up. Oh, don't say it that way. I'll make up my own mind. Of course you will, my love. Get ready for the ball and have no fear. Somehow, happy nights will follow happy days.

This is a capulet-masked ball. We are not bid to it, Mercutio. But being masked, how can we be questioned? You are safe. The prince's family is welcome. But Benvolio and I, as Montagues... Oh, do come, Romeo. Once into the ball, our faces masked, each man is as good as his legs. Hear the music? Does it not stir your blood?

It is a tomb to dream by. I see that dream, and that Queen Mab has been with you. Queen Mab? Why, yes. The fairy's midwife. Put on your masks, then. For inside these walls...

in a garden where the music bids us, is Queen Mab to spin the dreams, and who knows the answer to all our desires. So, my visor is in place. Yours, Benvolio? I am as eager as you. And Romeo? Yes. And yet, I have the strangest feeling. What? That my life begins, and mayhap ends in this adventure.

Oh, so, have you found your Rosalind? Why, no. She is beset by so many partners that I... Oh, Romeo, don't try to pull wool over an old sheep's eyes. Somehow your order has cooled. Look where I point. Who is that lady whose hand rests on that fortunate knight's? Why...

She teaches even the torches to burn bright. She hangs upon the ear of night like a jeweled earring. Beauty too rich for use, for earth too bright. Did my heart ever love before?

Forget it. I never saw true beauty till this night. Take care, my friend Romeo. The lady you admire is, I dread to tell you, a Capulet. Her name? Juliet. Daughter of your father's deepest enemy. May I claim the stance? A holy monk?

Is it within the allowance of your order? Only a pilgrim's garb I wear on my long journey to you, the shrine. I have no claim to devotion. To this pilgrim, you have total claim. Thank you.

My lips stand ready to assure you this. You need not reach so far, good pilgrim. Just palm to palm is holy pilgrim's kiss. But saints have lips as well as holy palms. Lips they should use in prayer. Cannot they do what hands do? Touch and pray? Lest faith turn to despair? Saints do not move, sir. Let me move to purge all sin. This from my lips. But on my lips...

Now I've taken the sin. Then let me trespass lightly, sweetly, and give me back my sin again. You kiss by the book? A book better closed. Bachelor, whoever you are, you must know her mother is the lady of the house. Come away, child. Cousin Romeo. Yes, Benvolio. It's time to leave. I will not go. We must. It is the midnight hour. Time to unmask.

And we are a small island among our enemies. Come, love. Everyone is unmasked. It is time to go to bed. But who is he? He? Oh, do not trifle with me. You know the one you tried to close the book on. With reason, sweet. His name is Romeo. He is a Montague. Ah.

My only love sprung from my only hate. How could you destroy me so? What hope is left for love? Have you seen Romeo Mercutio? Not I. He must have stolen home to bed. I thought I saw him run this way and climb the wall. And if he did, it's his affair.

Come with me to the taverns, Benvolio. These are bad times. I worry for my cousin. What reason? Now he's out of love. Cupid can no longer harm him. Nothing touches you. You bear a charmed life. What means that? Nothing except we all can jest at scars that never felt a wound. With love's light wings I climbed this wall...

And now, a moment soft. What light through yonder window breaks? Not dawn yet, but it is the east. And Juliet is my son. And there she is at the window of the dawn. It is my lady. Oh, it is my love. I wish she knew she were. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. Would that I were a glove upon that hand. That I might touch her cheek.

She speaks. Oh, speak again, bright angel. Romeo. Romeo, wherefore are you Romeo? Deny your father and forswear your name. Or if you will not, only swear yourself my lover and I'll no longer be a Capulet. It's but a name that is my enemy. What is a Montague? What's in a name? What is a Montague?

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. So forget your name, which is no sworn part of you. And for that name, take me instead. I take you at your word. Who's there? Someone new baptized, that from this night forth, never will be Romeo. My name is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to you. My ears had drunk no more than the first few words, then I knew that you were Romeo. Romeo.

And a Montague. Neither, ever, if you dislike the names. My kinsmen, if they saw you, would murder you. There lies more peril in your eyes than all their swords. Smile on me, and I am proof against their enmity. By whose direction did you find me? By love. A pilot who would have led me to you if you were on the other side of the world. You know the mask of night is on my face to hide my blushes. I could say so much, but I say it in one phrase.

I love you. And lady, by yonder blessed moon, I swear... Oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, lest your love be as changeable. What shall I swear by? Do not swear at all. Or if you must, swear by yourself, who has already all my love, and I'll believe you. If my heart's dear love... No, no, do not swear at all. This contract is too swift, too ill-advised, too like the lightning...

which is gone before it ceases to be. Sweet, good night. As sweet repose come to your heart as what is in my breast. Will you leave me so unsatisfied? What satisfaction can you have tonight? The exchange of your love's faithful vow for mine. I gave you mine before you asked for it. Madame! Anon, good nurse. Sweet Montague, if your love is honorable, the purpose marriage...

Let me know tomorrow. Madame Juliet! Anon! But if you mean not well, I do beseech you. Leave me to my grief. Madame, come! A thousand times good night. A thousand times the worse to need your light. Love goes to love. As schoolboys from their books. But love from love goes back to school with heavy look. Romeo, time tomorrow shall I send to you. At the hour of nine. I will not fail.

Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I must say good night till it be morrow. So falls the curtain on perhaps the most famous love scene of all time. The lovely words are spun out in the soft silver of the moon, vibrant with the magic of the night.

Sad that so bright a beginning already is about to fade under the lengthening shadow of dark tragedy. I shall return with Act Two. For Romeo, there is no slightest hint of impending doom.

Not even the blood feud between his family and Juliet's can keep his heart from singing, his feet from dancing on air as he hurries through the dawn to the cell of Friar Lawrence. Good morning, Father. Who salutes me so early? Oh,

Romeo, to leave your bed so early in the day, to come to argue that you've been up to some mischief and come seeking absolution. Not this time, Father. Then here, I'll hit it right. You haven't been in your bed at all tonight. The last is true, and all the sweeter did I rest. I'm in love with Capulet's daughter, Juliette.

What are you saying? My heart is hers as much as hers is mine. And we are both set on holy wedlock. I come to pray that you will marry us here today. Do Capulet or Montague know of this new burning flame? God forbid, dear friar, that my father or hers should... Or we might light a fire to burn Verona down.

If we are married, Jesu Maria, you could speak truth. This alliance could be the only hope to end the bitter rancor of your households. So, God might smile upon it. If the Lady Juliet wills it too, I will marry you. Stay. Hold. Young, sir. Yes, forgive me. I am in some haste. Yes, sir.

You guessed last night. You are my beloved's nurse. Why do you search for me? Well, Lady bad me inquire you out, but... Oh, sir, can we first withdraw within the shadow of the church here? By all means. So shall we both find sanctuary for those secrets that pass between us. Now tell me why Juliet has sent you to me. What she bad me say I will keep to myself.

But first, let me tell you, if you should lead my little one into a fool's paradise, as they say, it would be gross and cruel behavior for my mistress is very young. And if you should lead her down the garden path, as they say, why, then I say... Good nurse, say no more, except to commend me to your mistress. Will you take her this message? Oh, you may lay your life upon it. Why, so I do, as I pray she will hers.

bid her come to confession at Friar Lawrence's cell this afternoon. Is that all? No. Tell my heart's love that she will be confessed as I and Friar Lawrence shall make us man and wife. This afternoon? She shall be there.

I said I would not tell you what my little mistress said. That has all changed. Here were her words. Oh, come, tell me quickly. She said that I should ask her love what message he had for her, and which I now have got. And that was all? Oh, that was the meat. Now here's the garnish. She bid me tell you that she loved you, that her heart was yours to do with as you pleased. Oh!

But at last, sweet nurse, what news? Have you met with Romeo? Oh, I am a weary. Give me leave a while. Can't you see I'm out of breath? And I am out of patience. The news, the news. What a bad. Oh, why, your love said, like an honest gentleman, and a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and I'm sure a virtuous. Where is your mother? Why, inside.

Yes, yes, what did he say? Do you have permission to go to confession today? I have. Why then, my lamb, as slow a turtle as I am, you'll be a hare in getting to Friar Lawrence's cell. You'll find a husband there waiting to make you his wife. Thank... Good day, Friar Lawrence. Was I long, Romeo? Did I keep you waiting? Was I too long? If you had come early, it would still have been too long and I would have been waiting.

You've not changed your mind? My true love has grown by such excess... I cannot sum up the half of all my wealth. Then we are rich indeed... since I cannot begin to count my blessings. Finding you both in such a state of grace... may I suggest you come quickly with me... so we shall make short of work... of making you both one. For by your leaves... you shall not stay alone... until the church can your desires condone.

Mercutio, the search for Romeo seems fruitless. I pray you, let's retire the day's heart and with Capulets everywhere abroad and... By my head, here come some Capulets and Tybalt. And by my hell, I care not. Gentlemen, a word with you. Yes, Mercutio.

You consort with Romeo. Consort? What, would you make us minstrels? If that's your intent, I promise you nothing but discord. Here's my fiddlestick.

That shall make you dance! We're out in public. Let's pick some private place to air our grievances or else depart. All eyes watch us here. Men's eyes were made to look. I will budge for no man's pleasure. Put up your sword. Here comes my man. I'll be hanged, Tybalt, if he wears your livery. Well, I'll dress him in another suit, Romeo! Yes, Tybalt. What do you want? To tell you what my hate for you can find no better word...

You are a cowardly villain. Turn and draw. Tybalt, I protest I never injured you. I love you better than you can believe till I can tell you why. So good Capulet, a name I now count as dear as my own.

Be satisfied. Oh, calm, dishonorable, vile admission. Tybalt, rat catcher, will you walk with me? What do you want from me? Alley prowler, king of pest-ridden cats, one of your nine lives. Draw before I cut your whiskers off. I am for you. Mercutio, put your rapier up. Come, Tybalt, engage me. Draw, Benvolio, draw. Be

Beat down their weapons. Tybalt, make sure your own uncle, the prince, has forbidden this. Hold off. Come, Capulets, away. A plague on both your houses. What? Is he gone unmarked? Are you hurt? Aye. Aye, a scratch. But send for a surgeon.

Send my page. Go, boy, hurry. Courage. The wound cannot be much. It is not so deep as a well, nor as wide as a church door, but it will serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you will find me a grave man. Plague on both your houses. Why the devil did you come between us? His thrust passed into me beneath your arm. I thought it for the best.

He has made worms meet out of me. I have it. And soundly, plague on both your houses. Oh, God, he's dead, that gallant spirit. And through me, Benvolio, on this dark day, more trouble will depend that only begins the sadness others yet must end.

No time for mourning. Here comes the furious Tybalt again. Alive and in triumph and Mercutio slain. Goodbye to love while fury boils hotter in my veins. Tybalt! What, lily-livered boy? Take back that villain you threw in my teeth. Mercutio's soul is just a little way above our heads, waiting for yours to join him. Either you or me or both of us must go to keep him company. He was your companion here. Let him be the same in hell. Ah!

I'm bragging on you! I'm done! Romeo, the people are up. The guard on the way. With Tybalt slain, you are doomed to death. You must run, leave the country. Your days in Verona are over. Well, stand not amazed. If your life means anything, take to your heels. Oh, God. God, who made me this? Benvolio, I am fortune's fool. I am fortune's fool.

For a moment, poor Romeo looks up to heaven as if searching for some sign of favor or help. Then, as the hue and cry approaches, he takes to his heels and flees while Juliet, unknowing, prepares herself for her wedding night. I shall return shortly with Act Three. ♪♪

In the wake of the two deaths, the prince has to sort out all the claims and counterclaims. But Benvolio's quiet factual account of what happened weighs in Romeo's favor. The decision of the prince is that Romeo shall not be put to death. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo that killed him is banished. Oh, Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood. It did, alas, the day it did.

That courteous and honest gentleman... Why, grief is enough to make me old. All shame to Romeo. Hold your tongue. What? It should be blistered for such a wish. On Romeo there is no shame. You can speak well of one who killed your cousin? You expect me to speak ill of one who is my husband? If Tybalt were alive, by then Romeo would be dead. And Tybalt, quick-tempered, imperious bully that he was... killed gentle Mercutio...

I mourn for him, but don't excuse him. Because of his rash actions, my Romeo is banished. Banished! Hold! Hold now, sweet. I cannot bear to see you so. Romeo is still in hiding at Friar Lawrence's cell. Oh, cruel of you not to tell me sooner. Here, take this ring and bid him come to me tonight to take his last farewell. Banished!

He might as well have hanged me out of hand, good father. Now, Romeo, it is a gentler judgment. Not to me. To me, exile has more terror. There's still the whole broad world. There is no world without Verona's walls for me. This is where my Juliet lives. What use is my life anymore? Dear friar, have you no poison mix, no sharp ground knife, no sudden means of death to take me quickly to an unmade grave?

There's someone knocking. Quick, Romeo. Hide yourself. I shall well be taken. There's no more reason to live. Oh, holy fire. Where is my lady's lord? Romeo. Julie, it's the nurse. Let her in. Very well. Is he still here? He has not fled. Hush, woman, hush. As you can see, he is still here. May the good lord be thanked. My lady has sent me to you, sir, to give you this.

A ring? And to beg you, come to her this night to say your last farewells. How can I face her? How can you not? Get you to your true love, as was ordained. But make sure you leave her before the night is out.

So you escape through to Mantua. Once you are there, I can announce your marriage. And with the help of friends, sue the prince's pardon and call you back. Then you will come to my lady? He will come. But first, we must wait for night. Go, bring your mistress the news. Oh, good friar, I will.

Cheer up, Romeo. Now, go. There is water in my study. Make the best of yourself for your wedding night. You will forgive me, Sir Paris. But as Juliet loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, as indeed we all did, she has retired this early.

But once she knows of your love, I know she will be heart and mouth to find herself your wife. Perhaps in the circumstances, haste would seem... No, no. We'll keep no greater due. What day is this? Monday. Then Wednesday is too soon. We'll make it Thursday. And since Tybalt died so recently, we'll keep the company small and the wedding quiet. Tomorrow, I shall prepare her against the date. The End

Do not go yet, Romeo. I must, Juliet. The lark has sounded. No, no. It's not near day yet. That was a nightingale you heard. She sings nightly in that palm granite tree. The nightingale. And not the lark. It was the lark. The herald of the morn. No nightingale, love. Night's candles are burnt out.

I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Oh, no, don't leave me. Then let me be taken. Come death and welcome. Juliet wills it so. So now, it is not day. No, no, it is the day. I see it now. How could a lark seem so much out of tune? Hurry, and be gone. A parting kiss, till we shall meet again. Now quickly, love, descend.

Adieu, my love. Adieu. Adieu, my love, adieu. Boy, that's goodbye. How heavy on my heart that word must lie. Who's that? Your mother. How are you, child? Madam, I am not well. Still weeping for your cousin's death?

Have no fear. We have arranged for sudden joy to lift you out of this despond. What joy, Mother? Next Thursday morning, in St. Peter's Chapel, you are to be the bride of that gallant, courteous, and noble gentleman who stands a step beneath the throne. Prince Paris. But I cannot marry Paris. I would not suggest you try to tell your father that. How can I stop it?

My husband is on earth and my faith in heaven. How can I bring my faith back to earth? Good nurse. Yes, poor little bird. You heard. Go in and tell my mother that I am gone to make confession to Friar Lawrence. You have confessed me, father.

Now I wish to die. Child, if I were to let you go, you would kill yourself? Without hope, yes. Then listen to me close. Take this bottle and the liquid in it. Go home, be mercy seeming, and give consent to the wedding Thursday. Wednesday night, make sure you are alone and drink this liquor which shall lull you to a drowsy state which counterfeits death.

For two days will you lie so. By the second night, when you are laid to rest in the Capulet tomb, by my word and letters, Romeo shall come and wake you from your drug sleep, to carry you off to Mantua, to freedom and to love. Give me the vial, father, and for all the rest, I place my trust in you and what heaven shall decree. I am alone, and now it is the night.

Come, precious liquid, buy me my future. But what if this drug fails to work? Shall I be married tomorrow morning? Or suppose it should be poison which the friar, fearing to be dishonored for wedding me in secret, subtly administered to have me dead? What does it matter? It is my last, best hope that Romeo, with this draft, I come to you. Good morrow, Lady Capulet. Is my bride ready to go to the church? Ready to go? Yes.

But not to be your bride, Sir Paris. How is this? You promised her. Man makes promises. Only God can make them secure. Juliet! My Lord is dead!

God have mercy! Would you break the door down? Aye, and kick the props from under heaven, Friar Lawrence. What's amiss, Benvolio? Has Romeo been here? Didn't you meet with him in Manchur? Having no safe conduct, the guard made me prisoner. When at last I found my freedom, it was only to learn the news...

Juliet's death had reached Romeo in Mantua. And from that town he was already gone. Without my letter being delivered to him? That's right. Then he thinks that Juliet is truly dead. Oh, our heavenly father. Now, lend me speed. Come, let us quickly to the tomb. Give me the torch, boy. Get you home and leave me alone to mourn. Oh, Juliet's...

With bridal flowers, your canopy of dust and stones I strew. And nightly, the death watch I keep shall be to haunt your grave and weep. What? But boy, I thought I told you to go. Montague! Romeo, how dare you here? Sir Paris, friend of my dear friend, Mercutio. I have no quarrel with you. But I have with you.

banished. The murderer of my love's cousin, whose grief at Tybalt's death drove her to the grave. I care not for Tybalt, but at least I can revenge Juliet's death. I beg you, gentle youth, don't tempt a desperate man. I come armed here against only myself. Do you provoke me? Then have at you. Again I beg. I seek no fight with you, but I with you, murderer. Defend yourself. Oh!

I'm sane. I die. So do we all. Poor fool. To make your own death. Oh, Juliet. Sweet, my love. How gently you sleep. Why are you still so fair? Soon I will be with you. For I come armed with some apothecary's potion, which in a second can send me from this world to yours. Eyes, look your last.

Arms, take your last embrace. And lips, seal with a righteous kiss the bargain of death. Here's to my love. Oh, true apothecary, your drugs are quick. Thus, with a kiss, I die. I die.

The vault is open, as I feared. Then, in God's name, let's follow in. Better you stay here and keep the horses hidden from the watch, if they should pass by. Then hurry, Father. The walk to the grave is always slow. Strange, I must in a hurry go. What blood is this that stains the sepulcher? No! No!

Two masterless and stained swords in this place of peace. Romeo and Paris, what's happened here? Who asks what's happened? As I do. Where am I? Oh, comfortable friar, you are with me. But where, where, as you promised, is my Romeo? My lady, come away. All has gone awry. Your husband lies dead. Dead?

Romeo. And Paris, too. Come. I will see you disposed among a sisterhood of nuns. Prior Lawrence. Father. Come quickly. We must leave. No. Go yourself. Save your life. For I will not leave this tomb. Prior, make haste. I cannot leave you, daughter. You must. You cannot do any more for me. Father. The watch. The watch.

God bless you and help you. Yes, yes, I come. Romeo, my darling Romeo, dead? What's in your hand? I see, a poison cup. That has been your end. Let it be mine. Oh, selfish love to drink and leave no friendly drop to help me follow you. Then let me kiss you. No, no poison lingers there, although your lips are warm.

Then I must find some other way. Now, oh happy dagger from your breast, I'll give it better she to let me. The sun is gone and love is dead. And the dark shadow has marched inexorably to claim its tragic. The dagger buried in her heart

Juliet, in her white burial dress that might have been her wedding one, slips from the bier to lie beside her dead lover. Both Romeo and Juliet are dead. But the story of their love will never die. There is only this to say beyond the final curtain for our lovers.

History records that both Capulet and Montague, learning that their bitter hatred had condemned their children to a senseless death, came to their senses. And perhaps the most tragic picture of all is the sterile one of two bitter old men at last clasping hands and offering friendship.

Too late. Our cast included Christopher Tabori, Morgan Fairchild, Joan Shea, Bob Caliban, Guy Sorrell, and Earl Hammond. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now, a preview of our next tale. Oh, blood. Yago blood. Patience. Your mind may change. Never. Never.

Let the Pontic Sea, whose icy current never ebbing, drives relentless through the Hellespont. Even so, my bloody thoughts will ne'er look back. Kneel with me now that I may take oath to those words. Within three days, I will hear you say that Cassio is not alive. My friend's already dead. Done for at your request. But let her live. Desdemona?

Lude Minx, damn her. I go now apart to study what swift means of death I can devise for that fair devil. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by Buick Motor Division. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre.

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At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

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. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen, and Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off. Then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping.

Do you like my horror-able humor episodes called Mind of Marlar? 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.

Good evening, creeps. Welcome to the Mystery Playhouse. Creeps, tonight we have with us Miss Elizabeth Scott, lovely young Hollywood star of the motion picture The Strange Love of Martha Ivers.

Our play, Female of the Species, by Irene Winston, will star Miss Scott on the part of Eva Lester. And incidentally, a few creeps out there think that some of the gangsters we've had on our Mystery Playhouse stage were cold-blooded and, shall we say, cruel. Wait until you meet Eva Lester. For Eva Lester, as played by Elizabeth Scott, should pretty well prove that familiar quotation, the female of the species is more deadly than the male. ♪♪

In the offices of a Manhattan law firm, a beautiful and smartly dressed woman stands facing her attorney. I never thought I'd be coming to you for legal advice. I see, pal. You're a good lawyer, and I may need a good lawyer. Well? First, I guess I'd better give you this gun. Did you? No, it hasn't been fired.

I left the office with the idea of murder, but it wasn't necessary after all. And? I... I suppose I'd better start at the beginning, because it's important for you to understand everything that happened. You've a right to know how I feel. Go on. It... it all began about a year and a half ago, on a Thursday afternoon at three. I remember the time because...

as he walked into my beauty salon with his wife, the clock child. Reception, Miss Sherwood speaking. Oh, yes, Mrs. Carter. Yes, you want Pierre for your scalp treatment, Jerry for your bleach, and Margaret for a manicure. Yes, I have that. No, I'm afraid you can't squeeze in a facial. Everyone's busy. Well, I'll try. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Oh, hello, Miss Lester. Hello. Any chance of the boss getting a facial? I'm tired and mad enough to commit murder. What a day. Well, I'll see if anyone's free. Oh, there's not a chance for at least an hour unless we have a cancellation. Oh, excuse me. Yes, madam? I have an appointment. Mrs. Frederick Maxwell. Oh. Oh, yes, Mrs. Maxwell, you have a consultation appointment. Booth 4 through that door on your left. Thank you. Fred? Fred?

Yes, dear. Want to come along with me? You'll enjoy it. Lots of people standing around, all deciding what ought to be done with my hair. If my skin is the right color for this season. No, no thanks, darling. I'll go along now. I'll pick you up any time you say. Oh, darling, I wish you'd stay. It'd be such fun. No, really, Helen. I've got a lot of things to do. You can't wait to get away, can you?

Oh, now, don't be angry, darling. Where will I meet you and when? Home. About seven. Will it take that long? Will you come this way, Mrs. Maxwell, please? They're waiting for you. Thank you. Goodbye for a while, darling. Well, there goes your last chance for a facial, Miss Lester. We're booked up solid now. Oh, it doesn't matter. No one ever looks at me anyhow. But I was wrong. Fred Maxwell was looking at me. For a minute, I couldn't breathe.

We looked at each other intently and finally he said lamely. My wife just went in there. I'll make her very beautiful for you. Oh, will you? I'm Frederick Maxwell. I'm Eva Lester. Oh, I thought that was just a trade name for a beauty parlor. Oh, no. You'll have a drink with me? Of course I will.

And that's how it happened, that fast. We had a few drinks together, and before we finished the first one, I knew I was going to fall in love with him, and I knew he'd love me. We're just making conversation now. I know. When do I see you again? Anytime you want to. Come here. It's like that, isn't it? Just like that. Always like that. And then, like this.

Before he left to meet his wife, I gave him the key to my apartment. I was in love with him. It wasn't a calm love. You won't find it defined in dictionaries. None of your laws can define it either. It was more like a thirst or a fight. But there it was. And it grew. And in time, we faced it.

After all, darling, it's the only decent thing to do. Are you sure we'll be happy if we get married? Aren't you? I think so. How long have you been married? Ten years. Are you sure you can get a divorce? I'll ask for one tonight. I don't see why not. Does she know about me? Yes. She doesn't know who you are, but she knows there's someone else. Eva, I've been true to you. I... There's only you. Oh, darling...

Go ahead, get the divorce. I'll marry you. I kept thinking about Helen Maxwell and wondering how she'd take it. That's when I came across her chart. Beauty parlor charts are barometers of a woman's life. The more visits to a beauty parlor, the more domestic trouble.

And in the last six months, Helen Maxwell had increased her visits until she finally, desperately had a daily appointment. Poor Helen. But she got her money's worth. I didn't cheat her professionally. Hello? Hello, darling. Brace yourself, it's bad news. What? Helen refuses to give me a divorce. Oh, Fred. And that's that.

All we can do now is wait until she gets tired of the situation. That can't be too long. Hello, hello. Hello. I'm still here. Well, don't worry about it, darling. We'll manage somehow. It will take time, though. I'll call you tomorrow, darling. But I didn't want to wait. I wanted to marry him right away. It had never occurred to me that she'd refuse the divorce. Then I realized that he wouldn't need a divorce if she were dead. Oh!

Of course, if Helen Maxwell died too quickly, there'd be an autopsy, and my professional reputation would suffer. I had to find a way in which I could only be found guilty of negligence, but not of deliberate murder. The next day, I was in the hospital.

I went downstairs to the salon and looked for Helen Maxwell. I pretended to have a message for Germaine, my best hairdresser, who, of course, introduced us. Germaine, tell me... Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were busy. Pas de quoi, mademoiselle Lester. I am almost finished with madame Maxwell. How do you do, Mrs. Maxwell? How do you do?

Germaine, why don't you try lifting the hairline a little? That bang is too low on Mrs. Maxwell's brow. Oh, oui. Like this? Oh, a little higher. There, that's it. How do you like that, Mrs. Maxwell? You're very kind. Really doesn't matter. Madame Maxwell is feeling very upset today. Well, perhaps I should go. No, don't go, Miss Lester, please. Maybe you can help me.

Well, what can I do? Change me. Change you? Yes, change me. Do something to make me over... I'm going crazy. Make me over, do something spectacular. But you'd be doing me such a favor, Miss Lester. Why do you want such a complete change? Because I've got to do something to make him notice me again. Him? My husband. He doesn't even...

look at me anymore. Oh, try to control yourself, Mrs. Maxwell. Jeremy, will you get her something to drink? Oui, madame. Oh, now you mustn't carry on like this, Mrs. Maxwell. I'm sorry. I just can't help myself. I seem to cry all the time lately. A vegetable cocktail for madame. Go on. Go on. Drink it. You'll feel better.

I'm sorry. I don't want to thank you. It is good for madame. Beauty comes from within. Yes. Drink your way to beauty. I'll try anything.

Will you help me, Miss Lester, please? But Mademoiselle Lester does not give treatment herself. I think this time I will, Germaine. Mrs. Maxwell seems to feel that I'm the only one who can help her. Oh, I know. Believe me, Miss Lester, I'll be so grateful. I'll do anything you say. I'll put myself completely in your hands. I won't need you now, Germaine. You may go. Merci. Au revoir, Madame Maxwell. Bonne chance.

Where do we start? What are you going to do first? I think the first thing to do is to darken your hair.

Darken it? Mm-hmm. Your skin would look much whiter if your hair were darker, and you'd look a lot younger, too. Bleaching does no good after a while, you know. I forgot that the years go by. Too many women do. That's why I'm in the business. I'll take ten years off your age with the hair alone. All right. Go ahead. Do it now. Not so fast. Finish your vegetable juice, and then we'll get started. ♪♪

It was Germaine who'd given me the idea. Drink your way to beauty. We told all our clients that. It was a stock phrase, and it was true. But in Helen Maxwell's case, I... I planned to add a little white powder, tasteless and colorless when taken in liquid. Administered slowly enough, it produces natural symptoms, and only an autopsy reveals its presence. ♪♪

Helen Maxwell was under my care for almost eight months. I had a kind of sadistic thrill working on her every day, creating new beauty for her, and knowing that every night she'd take that new beauty home to an empty house. She talked to me a great deal about it. Mostly she began with this question. How could he do such a thing to me, Miss Lester? After all I gave him. Oh, now finish your vegetable juice before that mask hardens, Miss Maxwell. It's good for you. Thank you.

I told him again last night he'd get no divorce from me. He'll marry that woman over my dead body. Oh. Who is the woman? Do I know her? I don't know who she is. Aren't you curious? Yes and no. If I knew her, I think I'd kill her. I thought of following him once. Did you? No. Why should I bring myself down to his level? I'd rather die. Something wrong, Mrs. Maxwell? I've been having the most violent headaches. My eyes have been hurting all day.

I think I'd better go to a doctor. A doctor? Oh, now you're not turning into a hypochondriac, are you? Well, no, but... Well, just wash your eyes with pork acid solution. That's all you have to do. Now, did you sit up reading again last night? Yes. Well, no wonder you have a headache. I guess so. Now, let's have a look at your hair again. Oh, oh, uh, finish your vegetable cocktail. All right. ♪♪

Was it the poison working? Headaches and eye strain could mean almost anything. All during this time, Fred and I were closer. He knew his wife was a constant visitor in my beauty salon, but he didn't know that I was supervising her treatments. That was a secret between Helen Maxwell and myself.

One night about a month ago, Fred said... Poor Helen. She has such an empty life. I wish she could find someone else. She's really a fine woman, Eva. It's not her fault that I'm a heel. Oh, you're not a heel? You should see her as I do. She's been spending all her time at that beauty salon of yours. She thinks in some cockeyed female way that if she becomes a raving, tearing beauty, I'll come back to her. Most women think that, thank goodness. Thank goodness? Certainly.

I make a lot of money out of broken hearts. Do you ever think of the irony involved? Making my wife beautiful? Aren't you afraid? No. It makes me feel important. That's funny. You own that great big beauty parlor. And you know what? You have a very funny face. But I can't stand this anymore, Eva. I'm going to have it out with her. I'm going to tell her that either she'll get a divorce or... Or? Or I'll get it myself. There are ways.

Legal ways. Then, one day, Helen Maxwell didn't show up for her appointment. Eva, this is Fred. I haven't much time. I'm at St. John's Hospital. St. John's Hospital? What's wrong? Well, it isn't me. It's Helen. Oh, Helen.

What's the matter with her? Well, they're not sure. A temporary paralysis, a stroke. What? I called you right away. And listen, Eva. I won't be over tonight. Oh, of course, darling. I understand. No, you don't. That's why I'm telephoning. I don't have the nerve to face you. Oh, now, don't be silly. I do understand. You don't understand. I feel responsible for all this. But...

But you're not responsible. Don't you see, if I hadn't threatened to get a divorce myself, she wouldn't have had this stroke. But, darling, you... I... I was telling her I'd frame the evidence if necessary, and she just collapsed. Oh, Fred, Fred, listen to me. Don't you see, darling, I couldn't leave her now, not when she needs me so much. I... I won't see you tonight or any other night. I...

He couldn't leave her now that she was helpless. I had never thought of that. But that couldn't be the end of us. I had gone this far. I might just as well go the whole way. I had never really hated Helen before. But now, as I took the gun the night watchman used, I hated her. I went to St. John's Hospital intending to shoot her. ♪♪

Yes, Mrs. Maxwell is permitted to have visitors. But I must warn you not to show any surprise at her appearance. At her... her appearance? The whole right side of her face is paralyzed. Nurse, I... We had to take all the mirrors out of her room so she couldn't see herself. Is... is it permanent? Well, you can't tell with psychic disturbances. Mrs. Maxwell has had a shock, and it's not always easy to chart a path to the root of the trouble. I see. I see.

That's why the doctor asked me to talk with you first, to prepare you. Uh, knowing what you will find, do you still want to see her? Yes. Well, remember, she doesn't know about her fate, only about the paralysis of her arm. I understand. Try and cheer her up, and don't stay too long. I won't. Even though the nurse had warned me, I... I wasn't prepared for the look on Helen Maxwell's face. It was ironic.

The face I'd worked on for so long had been destroyed when Fred threatened to get the divorce himself. Of course, that, coupled with my little white powder, was a psychic disturbance. I controlled myself, however, as I walked to her bed. Is that you, Fred? No, it's... it's... it's Eva Lester, Mrs. Maxwell. How are you? Oh, nice of you to call.

Did they tell you about my arm being paralyzed? Yes, but it's only temporary. You mustn't feel too badly. Oh, I don't. I'm almost happy. In a way, it was worth it. Worth it? Fred promised me he'd never see that woman again. Oh. And as soon as I can leave the hospital, we're going away. We're going to buy a house in the country and start all over again. Start all over again? And you believe that? Of course I do. Why? Why?

Why? Because he's my husband, and I... Oh, now, really, Mrs. Maxwell. You're too old to believe in fairy tales. Fairy tales? Yes. It's bad enough to have the man you love pity you, but to have the whole world pity him... Pity him? Why do you think he wants to take you away from the city? Well, we... we always wanted to live in the country. Maybe you always wanted to before, but now you have to. Have to? Yes. Yes.

He's taking you away so no one will have to look at your face. My face? Why do you think they took all the mirrors out of the room? What's the matter with my face? Do you really want to see? Yes. You're just trying to scare me. Let me see myself. I wouldn't devour you. Give me your mirror. Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who's the fairest of them all? Here you are, Mrs. Maxwell. Oh! Oh! Oh!

Now do you think he still loves you? No. No, you're right. He's sorry for me. I don't want his pity. I don't want anyone's pity. I thought you'd see it like that. Miss Lester. What? Miss Lester, will you do me a favor? Can I stay with you for a few days? Well, please. He'd never think of looking for me there, and I've got to get out of the hospital before he gets back.

You just can't get up and leave. I've got to. I can't stay here and wait for Fred. I've got to think of some way to... Tell me, is there a fire escape outside that window? Look and see. Yes. Yes, there is. They didn't take my clothes, but they're in that closet. Will you bring them to me? Can you walk? It's 12 stories to the street. There's nothing wrong with my legs. But why don't... You promised to help me. You're not going to back out on me now. No, I don't... Then go outside. Talk to the nurse while I get dressed.

If you're here when I escape, they'll blame you. But you ought to. There isn't much time. Go on, please. Just keep talking to the nurse until I can get away. Please. All right. Thank you. And, oh, Miss Lester, wait. Please lend me your hat. What? Your hat. It has a veil on it. I've got to cover my face. So I have talked to the nurse. The other half of me was listening and waiting. And then...

We rushed into Helen Maxwell's room and looked out of the window. Far down on the street below, the crowd was already gathering. That's why I thought of you first. Can they do anything to me? After all, her death was accidental, and even though she was wearing my hat, I wasn't in the room when she fell trying to go down the fire escape. And second, you're free now, Fred. We can get married.

You killed her. It wasn't even in the room, I tell you. A technicality. Oh, the law's full of technicalities in the hands of a good lawyer. What are you looking at? The residue of a dream. Oh, this is no time to sentimentalize. Be practical, Fred. All right, I'll be practical. This is your gun? Yes. For all the joy we'll get out of life now, we might just as well all be dead. No, Fred. Fred. Justice has a sardonic sense of humor, Eva. Uh...

You wanted us always to be together. Well, the police will see to it that I joined. But I... I did it all for you, darling. Everything I did. Did for you. And that brings down the curtain on Female of the Species, tonight's performance in the Mystery Playhouse.

Miss Elizabeth Scott was heard as Eva Lester in Female of the Species, an original radio play by Irene Winston. The music heard on tonight's program was composed and conducted by Alexander Semler. Well, creeps, it's time to close the doors of our mystery playhouse, so until next time, good night, sleep tight. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service.

I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen, and Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off. Then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. 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 audiobook's page at WeirdDarkness.com. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off and use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com/darkness50off, then use the code "darkness50off" to get 50% off and free shipping. The Price of Fear, brought to you by Vincent Price. Hello there.

are you a whodunit fan i mean the good old-fashioned kind with a closed circle of cut-and-dried suspects exuding cut-and-dried clues until the last chapter when all is revealed and you kick yourself for not having been able to work it all out without the author's help whodunits are out of fashion now i'm told perhaps because truth is never as cosy or as well-ordered as fiction

I was once in a position where I found I had been in possession of certain facts, the significance of which had for years eluded me. This was just as well because I was spared the final and horrifying knowledge which was itself a killer. For at first, you see, I wasn't even aware that there had been a crime. Let me explain. Oh, by the way, I think I'll call this story Guy Fawkes Night.

It was all brought back to me last November when I was in London

by one of those impossible coincidences that sometimes happen. Papers? Evening papers? Get your papers here. Penny for the guy, mister. I had strolled out in the early evening to get some air and to buy a paper. Please, scum, spare a penny for the old guy. When I was accosted by this little fellow, one of a band of sturdy urchins who proliferate in the London streets in the weeks immediately preceding November 5th,

only the english would make an annual festival out of an attempted massacre of their temporal rulers perhaps it comes from a misplaced assumption of invincibility but for me its horrific associations are rather more immediate i gave the boy a small donation thanks mister and bought a paper three pence thank you sir i glanced at it casually meaning to read it at my leisure later

but my eye was caught by a headline: "Sir David Thomas found dead." Sir David Thomas, 37, the distinguished psychiatrist and specialist in nervous diseases, was found dead in his Harley Street consulting rooms early today. He had suffered from earlier heart tremors, and the rest of the article consisted of an obit on his fine list of achievements in the field of psychiatric research.

I remembered the last time but one that I had seen David Thomas. It was in 1960. There's a Mr. David Thomas to see, sir. David... I don't know anyone called David Thomas. Ask him what he wants. Just a moment, sir. I was tired and irritable. My plane to London had been delayed by fog, and I was due on the set at some godforsaken hour the next morning. I just wanted to get to bed. Are you still there, sir?

yes he says you knew his mother sir the lady's name was helen helen helen thomas oh yes yes you'd better send him up right away sir surprisingly i recognized my visitor the moment he walked in i say surprisingly because the last time i had seen david it was at his home

He'd been all of fourteen. It was good of you to see me, sir. I'm sorry to barge in like this. Damn cheap without writing and all that. But I don't know who else to turn to. Well, sit down, David. Has been a long time. Another world, sir. Rycott Manor? Rycott Manor, yes.

How's your mother? It's because of her that I'm here. She's not well, sir. Oh, I am sorry, David. Very sorry. You see, she once told me that you and she had been, well, close. Well, that was a long time ago, David. As you say, another world. What's wrong? She hasn't been really well since the night of that Guy Fawkes party at Rycot.

Do you remember it? Yes, of course. She had some shock. We never discovered what it was. She wouldn't or couldn't talk about it. Most of the time she's quite rational, but she has violent periods. She has to be protected. You understand me, sir? She lives quietly at Panton Sanatorium. But can't she be cured? The doctors and nurses are very kind, but it seems her mind has gone. Oh, no. At first I couldn't accept it either.

Mother had been such a gentle person. I resented a God who could let such things happen. Even her doctors didn't seem able to help her. So I made up my mind to become a doctor and try to beat them at their own game. I take my finals next year. Then I hope to specialize. Well, of course, I wish you all the luck in the world, David. That goes without saying. But I really don't see how I can help. Oh, but you can help, sir.

You see, Mother won't see me. Oh? She won't even have me in the same room with her. And she won't tell anyone why. Well, I... You could see her. You were there that night. Find out what's behind it all. Why she hates me so. Then we can begin to treat her. Well... Please don't say no. She's talked about you to the nurses. I don't think they really believe she knows such a famous man. Please do this for me, sir.

I know she'd love to see you. Would Helen really be so pleased to see me after all these years? We'd been art students together at London University way back in 35. She was an attractive, vital girl, and naturally competition to take her out had been keen. Can I have a drink, Vincent? Certainly. I want to talk to you. Well, talk away. Listen, Vincent, I'm going to get married.

You did say married? Mm. I've thought about it, and it seems a good solution. Solution to what? You're not serious. Vincent. Well, may I ask the name of the lucky man? Frank Thomas. Frank Thomas? Oh, now I know you're kidding. No, I'm not kidding, Vincent. He asked me last night. Well, no. Before you say anything else, listen to me.

I've got no illusions about my talent. So you're selling out, huh? Cynically, but accurately put. I've lost interest, I'm afraid. Helen, do you know what sort of a reputation this Frank Thomas has? A lot of nonsense put about by his enemies. Nothing's ever been proved against him, just because he's rich and has got a lovely house in the country. Yes, I've heard about Rycott Manor. Helen, you're not marrying a house, you know. Oh, Vincent...

after that my feelings towards helen took a decidedly chilly turn and though she asked me i didn't go to the wedding instead i returned to america and got on with my professional career which as it turned out put her effectively out of my mind i do appreciate you coming to see mother mr price it's all right david it's a pleasure i think we've not far to go now over the crest of the next hill

It's pretty country, isn't it? Yes, yes, but then I always find the English countryside captivating. The house lies in its own grounds, just like Rycot. Do you remember the old home? My only visit to the Thomas' home was some 15 years or so after that last night out with Helen. I was back in England to discuss a new movie when one day, totally out of the blue, I received a letter asking me to attend a Guy Fawkes firework party at Rycot Manor...

at first i couldn't think who i could possibly know at such an exalted address then i realized that it must be helen although we had not parted on the best of terms my curiosity got the better of me i badly wanted to know how things had worked out for her so i decided to accept the invitation i couldn't get away from town until late which meant i arrived at the house after the other guests had finished supper

it was one of those deliciously crisp evenings peculiar to fall in england so i paid off the taxi at the bottom of the drive and approached ryecote manor across the lawns the best way to see it fairy lamps had been strung along the trees in front of the terrace and i could see the great bonfire waiting to be lit above it as if surveying the scene was the guy

It was tied to what appeared to be a plank, its head fastened back so that the straw wouldn't fall out. Silhouetted against the lamps twinkling in the trees and the lights from the house, it looked uncannily lifelike. I even fancied that its eyes caught the light, reflecting it like those of a cat. It was obviously constructed with the loving care of an artist. Helen met me at the door. "'Vincent!'

Vincent, how good to see you. Here, let me take your coat. I want to talk to you alone before we join the others. Frank is resting in his study, so I'll take you into the morning room. How like Helen I thought to have a morning room. Well, the world-famous film actor. I'm so pleased for you, Vincent. Helen, let me look at you. Now...

How have you been? I read in the papers that you were here, so I thought, for old time's sake... Helen. Yes? How have you been? Do you want a truthful answer, or merely a polite one? Is it so bad? If you say I told you so, I'll send you packing at once. But I told you nothing you didn't already know. That makes it worse. Go on, tell me. I have everything material that I want. I go short of nothing.

But there is no love in this house, Vincent, and it frightens me. Frank is too busy. If he's not running his offices in the city, he's running the estate down here. And he does that just as efficiently and just as ruthlessly. Why have you stuck it out all these years? Because I have a son, Vincent. You'll be meeting him presently. His name is David, and he's 14. He's all I live for now, Vincent. David, hmm?

And how does David get on with his father? Truly, I don't know. David is hard to know, like his father. Sometimes I think he hates him. Oh, my poor Helen. Please don't pity me, Vincent. I've been holding on to my self-control for years, and it wouldn't take much to let go.

David is a sensitive, intelligent boy, but their interests are totally different. David takes after you. I fancy he has artistic leanings. Yes, possibly. But why do you say that? Well, my dear, I'm deducing that he built that guy I saw as I came here. It's a remarkable piece of work, you know.

There's some... well, some haunting quality about it. Thank you. He'll be pleased. He worked hard making it. If your son becomes an artist, you won't have wasted your own talent, you know. Thank you, Vincent. That was a very nice thing to say.

I want to send David away, away to boarding school. I think it's important to get him away from his father's environment. You see, lately their relationship has deteriorated. What caused that? Anything specific? There was a rather unfortunate incident about two weeks ago. Two poachers were caught on the estate, a crime Frank won't tolerate. They were trapped in a copse, and Frank gave orders to smoke them out. David was there when they were brought out.

You see, the men had stuck it out to the last possible moment, and they were so blackened and scorched that their features were unrecognisable. Most of their clothes had gone, and they just lay on the ground and writhed in agony. Two died in hospital. It's touch and go whether the third will recover. Helen, my dear, that's inhuman. Didn't anyone make a complaint? It was hushed up.

After all, it wasn't Frank who was breaking the law. He was just protecting his property. Oh, Helen. And then there was the incident of the puppy. What puppy? Well, stupid, really. But, Father... My God, sir, don't be so namby-pamby. I sometimes wonder what I've spawned. A boy or a girl. I can't see what's wrong in having a puppy. Lots of boys do. You call that apology a puppy?

Where are you going to keep it? In that shoebox? How long do you think it'll fit into that? I don't intend to keep it here. I'm taking it to boarding school with me. That's what the box is for. Bloody well not, you know. What do you think the headmaster's going to say, hmm? Get rid of it before term time. Meanwhile, keep that damn thing out of my sight. You see, Vincent, it was a sad little creature that David had found somewhere.

Frank took an instant dislike to it. Probably because it was a mongrel and a stray. Probably the runt of the litter. He never could stand anything that wasn't perfect. Mother? Are you in there? Come in, darling. Hello, Mother. David, this is... Oh, yes, I recognise him. Your picture was in last night's paper, sir. How do you do? I've seen all your films. Hello, David. David enjoys the macabre.

he was a good-looking boy sturdy and well-built for his age a good advertisement for a country upbringing in fact he was everything his father should have been proud of i noticed that he was carrying the shoe-box what's your next film going to be about i don't know david as a matter of fact i don't know what my last one was about how's your puppy is it in the box the box it's empty

The puppy's dead, sir. Oh, David. I found it this evening in one of those awful traps Father laid down for the poachers. It had been struggling for hours because both its hind legs were broken. So I had to put it out of its misery. Oh, David. You mean you did it yourself? I had to. There was no one else about. Luckily, there was this big, flat stone. Oh, Dave. It didn't take long. Luckily, Vincent, I've seen those traps.

Frank had them put down after catching those poor devils. They're hideous and lethal. I've told him how dangerous they are, but he says it's the only way to stop them. The poachers, I mean. Not at all familiar with English law, Helen, but surely... Well, he could be had up for assault or manslaughter if the worst happened. Darling, I'm so sorry about the puppy. It's all right, Mother. Father wouldn't have let me keep it anyhow. I've got over it now. Oh, by the way...

I used old Carter's wheelbarrow to carry out the guy. Yes, I saw the guy as I came in. It looks splendid. I made it myself. It's wearing one of father's old suits. Why don't you go out and light the bonfire? Mr. Price and I will join you presently. Take the other guests out onto the veranda, and then ask Carter to light a few of the rockets. We'll keep the set pieces till later. Oh, mother, I nearly forgot.

Father has gone. Gone? He had a phone call right after supper. Something urgent at the office. He left a short while ago. Without a word. How like him. Now I'll have to apologise to everyone. I don't think he'll be missed. That will do, David. Now run along. Yes, Mother. See you later, Mr Price. Yes, David.

Frank really is the limit. The trouble is, he's trying to do too much. And I'm sure he thrives on it. No, no, he was taken quite ill at supper. He's been sleeping badly, too. The doctor gave him some pills, but they don't seem to agree with him. If anything, he's more nervy and erratic than ever. The dislike he took to David's puppy was completely irrational. It's David I'm sorry for, Helen. Yes, poor David. David.

Oh, look, look, they're starting the fireworks and lighting the fire. Shall we go out on the terrace? Oh, by the way, will you be warm enough without a coat? Yes, thank you. Oh, look, they've lit the bonfire. Yes. I've always loved this festival. There, there it is. It's all on fire now. Oh, yes.

You were right about the guy. It does look so real. That's strange. What? Do you smell anything odd? No. No, I don't think so. I never had a chance to talk to Helen alone again that night. Suddenly I realized that it was much later than I thought and I would have to dash if I were to catch the last train.

for some reason i had no wish to stay in that house and helen was nowhere to be seen i did see david though and felt that if i sent my good-byes through him i could drop helen a line the next day well i never did write an unpardonable lapse of good manners which to this day i've never been able to explain

david stood watching the bonfire utterly absorbed in the destruction of his handiwork the flames licked round the straw-covered hands and the feet of the guy he appeared to gain great satisfaction when the plank cracked and splintered and the weird figure it had been supporting slid slowly into the holocaust below

There goes the guy, sir. See how well it burns? I soaked it in paraffin to make sure. Lucky the rain held off tonight, isn't it, sir? You're really enjoying it, aren't you, David? You'll have to make a bigger one next year. Oh, next year. Won't be at all the same, sir. As I waited for the station taxi to arrive, I stood watching the spectacle. Helen had been right.

there was an acrid tang in the air which i put down to the wood-smoke possibly mixed with the approach of a november fog there is always something splendid and grand about the slow burning of a great fire i couldn't help comparing it with the fires used for the burning of witches and heretics at the stake for after all symbolically that is what it was the laughing guest standing round watching seemed to

to lose their identity and assume other roles they became judges officers of the inquisition gleefully satisfied as their tortured victims turned and twisted and shriveled in the purging flames i guess that's what being an actor does for you the sanatorium it's just here on the right wake up sir we're nearly there oh i wasn't asleep david what became of your father

My father? Oh, didn't I tell you? No. We never saw him again after that night he left Mother. There were rumours that he had some girlfriend waiting for him in London. Mother had to carry on alone. Weren't inquiries made? Didn't you try to trace him? Trace him? Do you think we wanted him back? I loathed and detested the ground he walked on. So did Mother. His going was the best thing that ever happened to us. He was a brute when he was here, and I hope to God he's dead now.

he is as far as i'm concerned oh we're here i followed him into the large house i felt unhappy and apprehensive i still couldn't decide if i were right to come my qualms grew as we approached helen's room she was sitting on the bed huddled and emaciated her hair gray and lank

For a moment I thought there must have been some mistake. This couldn't be Helen. Not the Helen I'd known as a student, nor indeed the hostess of Rycott Manor. Why had it come to this? Vincent? Hello, Helen. Is it really you? It's been so long. Ten years, Helen.

You were right, Vincent, weren't you? You told me not to marry Frank. You must forget it and try to get well. I will never get well. Oh, now, Helen, the doctor says you're much better. David is outside. Won't you see your son? I have no son!

tell me what's wrong won't you let me help you you can't help me no one can well then just see david i'll fetch him for you no i won't see anyone no it's all right mrs thomas now calm down nobody's forcing you to do anything should i leave don't no no please don't go don't leave me just a few moments then sir you remember that night vincent

And that smell, that dreadful smell. I can't smell anything. It's all right, sir. It's one of her fantasies. And the pills. Has anybody looked for the sleeping pills? Helen, Helen, my dear, please be quiet. If I could only find out what's troubling you. Vincent, I...

i looked for you but you're gone why did you go off and leave me you never even said good-bye you never wrote not a word helen i know i really it doesn't matter not any more nothing matters now

I have something to tell you, Vincent. Yes. I'm going to marry Frank Thomas. He's rich and he's got a lovely house. Stop it, Ellen. No, no, that's not it. There's something I must remember. I must tell you, Vincent. I've got all I want, but there's no love in this house and it frightens me. Oh, my dear. I've got a wonderful son, Vincent. His name is David. David?

and he hates his father helen i'm all right vincent don't pity me please don't pity me listen vincent listen to me there isn't much time i'm all right i must tell you that night while it's in my mind frank was taken ill after supper

David had been sitting next to his father, on his right, next to the wine glass. What are you saying, Helen? Don't you understand, Vincent? I can't say any more. Oh, God, what's the use? What's the use? Oh, please, Helen, don't. Please. Please go, Vincent. I'm tired. So tired. David...

Your mother is obsessed with that night, the night your father walked out on her. There's something I didn't tell you. I looked up part of our family records. There's insanity there. Mother's illness appears to be hereditary. Does that make it incurable? Not necessarily. This is what I want to research. Nobody really knows how to define hereditary insanity. Perhaps when I'm qualified, I'll be able to help.

two years later helen was dead still without being reconciled to her son the last time i saw david was at her funeral of course i followed his career with interest knighted at thirty-five and now dead at thirty-seven back in my flat i sat in front of the fire

The flames danced in front of my eyes, and my fireplace assumed the shape of a bonfire. Without any prompting from me, the string of clues that I possessed, as yet unconnected, flashed through my mind. Whether they were clues to what really happened or might have happened, I could not tell. But they didn't make a pretty story. David was there when the poachers were brought out dead. Burnt, blackened and scorched.

Both the puppy's hind legs were broken. It had been struggling for hours. I've seen those traps. They're hideous and lethal. The shoebox, it's empty. Empty. It can't be. I can't believe it. Frank was taken ill at supper. David was sitting next to him, next to the wine glass. Nobody looked for the sleeping pills. By the way, I used old Carter's wheelbarrow.

I made the guy myself. Myself. That boy? No, it's just not possible. I've got a wonderful son. He hates his father. See how well it burns? I poured some paraffin to make sure. That dreadful smell. Don't you understand, Vincent? Don't you? Don't you? Could it really have happened like that? A boy brooding on his father's cruelty, his hand poised over a wine glass...

substituting the original guy stuffing straw into the sleeves and trouser ends a sturdy and well-built boy who could drag the body of a man into a wheelbarrow tied to a plank easy enough i remembered how uncannily lifelike the guide seemed and the roasting of human flesh would have left an acrid sour smell wouldn't it

I remembered what David had said in the car. Hadn't he told me himself that his mother's illness was hereditary? And if it was hereditary, why should it stop there? As I picked up the newspaper that had fallen to the floor, the last line of the article caught my eye. Found inexplicably amongst the dead man's papers was an old shoebox full of some charred and blackened substance, which was later identified as

human flesh and bone. Guy Fawkes Night was first recounted and dramatized by Richard Davis and produced by John Dias. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress from my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. 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. Hello!

The Adventures of Ellery Queen. Tonight we bring you another thrilling adventure of Ellery Queen, the celebrated fighter of crime. Representing you home armchair detectives is world famous personality Gypsy Rose Lee. You'll hear from her later. But now, here's your host, Ellery Queen. Thank you and good evening, ladies and gentlemen. In tonight's case, my secretary, Nicky Porter, finds herself hunted by the police.

She is wanted for murder. I call it The Adventure of Nicky Porter, Suspect. Suspect.

Excuse me. Would you mind letting me through? No, no, I hear you. Oh, hello, Hillary. What's going on here to warrant the attention of Inspector Queen of the New York Police? Oh, just a thing. Aren't you up pretty early, son? Early? I overslept. I'm supposed to meet this train. Somebody you know coming in? Nicky Porter. She's been visiting her family, and now I've missed her. All the passengers are out. Not all, Hillary.

Here. Down here. The train? Huh. What happened here, anyway? Well, a guy just down here with half his head blown off. He's in a compartment. Six slugs in his head. Who was he, Dad? Ernie Buffel, Midwest bank robber. Gun taken away, I suppose? Hmm. But we found these three $1,000 bills, Ellery, on the floor of this compartment. Let me see those bills, Dad. Oh. Yeah, I thought so. Look at these serial numbers. Here.

These $1,000 bills are part of the money. Yeah, stolen from the second commercial bank of Chicago the night before last. Correct. So it was Buffalo who pulled that bank top, huh? On the line with his loot. How much did he get away with that? $258,000. Woo!

Uh-huh. That leaves only $255,000 we've still got to recover from. Yep, looks like it. Is this Buffel's compartment, C and car 103? No, this compartment was occupied by a lady. The porter noticed her get off before he and the conductor found Buffel's body. Buffel had a lower in the next car. A woman, huh?

Young? Mm-hmm, about 5'3", in her 20s, pretty, red hair, wore a muskrat coat, carried a dark blue suitcase, and the compartment was full of her fingerprints. No, no, no, don't touch that compact, Hillary. Oh, the compact belonged to the girl, Dad? Yes, sir.

Well, it's easy enough to figure. With this compact of hers, the prints, the description we've got, it's only a matter of time, Ellery. Where are you going? Well, you don't need me in on this, Dad. Going to Nicky's place to take your medicine for missing her, huh? Nicky. Nicky, wake up. Nicky. Nicky, it's Ellery. Ellery. Nicky, listen to me.

Nicky, will you listen to me? I was in Kansas City. Nicky, you left Kansas City. You wired me yesterday from Chicago that you'd arrive in New York at 8.30 this morning. The train... Were you in a compartment, Nicky? Tell me. Compartment... Car 103, compartment C? Yes. Oh, I see. I'm so sick. I ache.

Oh, Ellery, what happened? Don't you know, Nicky? I can't seem to remember anything. Don't you remember leaving the train? No. Oh, look at me. Oh, dirty. You were in a struggle of some sort, Nicky. Struggle? You suffered a violent physical as well as nervous shock. It brought on a temporary amnesia, Nicky. Struggle? That man? Then you're beginning to remember. Now, when did you first see this man, Buffel?

Yeah, the man with the broken nose, Nicky. He's a criminal wanted for bank robbery. Bank robbery? So that's why he... Nicky, he's lying on the floor of that compartment dead. Shot to death. You left your compact there. Your fingerprints are all over the place. Nicky, you're in a jam, so talk, will you? I killed him. I killed him! Oh, Nicky, how did you kill him? Nicky, any minute now, Dad will realize that the compact, the prints, the description all add up to you. He may be on his way here now.

Will you tell me what happened before he gets here? All right, Ellery. The train had stopped at 125th Street. Then it started again. I'd already packed my suitcase and I was about to close it when my door opened and... Is that the border? I'll have my bag ready in a moment. What... What do you want? Don't call for help and don't yell. Who's yelling? Don't shut that suitcase. Would you mind waving that gun elsewhere? Do what I say and you won't get hurt.

See this package? Package? Put it in your suitcase. You're giving me something. Put it in your suitcase. Now what do I do? Write you a thank you note? Close it up. Close the bag. Uh-huh. Now get this. In five minutes we'll be in New York. You'll carry your suitcase off the train yourself. Don't give it to a red cap, understand? Walk up to the check room at the west end of the station and check the bag.

I'll be right behind you. Suppose somebody I know is meeting the train. Ditch him. When you get the baggage check, go to the nearest cigar stand and buy a packet of cigarettes. Leave the check on the counter, careless, like you dropped it. Then go on about your business. And you'll pick it up? That's the idea, baby. Oh. Well, there's not very much I can do, is there?

Smart down. Why, we're in the tunnel. I'm actually shaking. Do you have a cigarette? Yeah, sure. It's very kind of you to look through your pockets for one, because it gives me a chance to grab your gun. Why, you... You big... Okay. Okay.

Wake a sucker out of me, will you? Get up off that floor. We're almost in. Get up or I'll... Yes, go on, Nicky. All I know is I was reaching for the gun as he was bending over me. That's the last clear recollection I have, Ellery. That and the shots. All in his head. All at close range.

I see I brought the suitcase home. Is the package in it, Ellery? No, it isn't, Nicky. It isn't? But there's no question what it contained. The $258,000 Buffel stole from the Chicago bank the night before last. I wonder what I did with it. $3,000 of it was found on the floor of the compartment. And, Nicky... What now? I just found this in the pocket of your fur coat. A gun? All six shots fired. I'm afraid, Nicky, this was the gun that killed Buffel.

His own gun. Oh, Hillary. Can't you remember anything? What you might have done with the rest of the money? I only could before the inspector and... Hillary. The door. The police. The police after me. Now, look. You're to tell Dad the truth. Meanwhile, I'll be backtracking, trying to find the money. Don't give up, understand? Just hang on. All right, Hillary. That's the stuff. I'm coming. Coming, Dad. Come on.

I'll come right in. Drop the rod. Elroy? You heard him, bud. Drop the rod. Sure. It's not loaded anyway. I got it, Reader. Yeah, it certainly has gone all right. That was a good hunch, Frank. Following this guy from the station. You, shut the door. Elroy, I don't understand. Who are they? You followed me here from Grand Central? Yeah. Yeah.

We're three friends of Ernie Buffel's. We came in on the same train from Chicago. We hung around the station when Ernie didn't get off the train. You, the baby doll. Come here. Me? What do you want? I spotted you on the train. You were in that compartment. How'd you get Ernie in there? Huh? I didn't eat you. Knocked off my Ernie. Mickey. Let him go. Tie him up. Do it.

Stand still, will you? Baby doll, before I go to work on you, tell me, what did you do with the dough? I don't know. I don't know. You're lying. Can't you see she's telling the truth? Steady, pal. Ain't quite finished tying yet. Girlfriend, I'm going to give you one more chance. Just tell us where you hid that dough from the bank. Okay. Stop it. Can't you see she's fainted? Nuts. Frank, you sure it ain't here? It ain't in the room. It ain't on either of them. Stop it.

Wake up! Wait a minute. Look, I'm Ellery Queen. The detective? And this is my secretary, Nicky Porter. I give you my word, Nicky doesn't know where that money is. Amnesia. She can't remember a thing since she left that compartment. What do we do, Rita? Let's knock out these two and blow. We'll find a dough ourselves. Where, Frank? But you just gave me an idea, Mr. Queen. You got quite a rip. You're pretty good at finding out stuff. Okay, you find that dough for us.

Wait a minute, you're not... Shut up, Frank. How's it figure, Rita? Why, I jupe he'll find the dough for us because we're going to be keeping this doll of his company in a nice, safe place. Get it, Mr. Queen? I get it. If you don't, Nicky gets what she gave Ernie Buffle, but slower. I'm thoroughly convinced, Rita. And you don't get all the time in the world. Twelve hours, Queen. That's all. I understand, Frank.

How do I get in touch with you? You'll get a phone call at midnight tonight. Cops! Rita, let's scram. Grab the doll, Jupe. Carry her to the car. Come on, baby. Out the way. Frank, you cover us. Jupe, step on it. Oh, she ain't no pretty girl. Out the back way, Jupe. Come on, Frank. I'm coming. But before I go, Mr. Queen, I'm going to give you something to remember us by. So you'll know we're not kidding. I wish my hands were free. Wait. So here's to midnight. Come on.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, you have the first part of our mystery. You'll hear more shortly. Dad? Have they phoned yet? It's midnight. No, son, no call yet. But I wouldn't get back in time. How's your head, son? Oh, never mind my head. Now, listen, I found the cab driver who drove Nicky from the station. Just a minute, son. Dad, what's the matter? Just 30 seconds ago, look what I found in the suit you were wearing this morning. What?

Oh, that? It's a $1,000 bill. One of the missing bills from Buffles Hall. Where did you get it, Ellery? Oh, don't act the inspector with me, Dad. I found it in the pocket of Nicky's fur coat along with Buffles' gun. I didn't even tell Nicky about it. I thought you said Buffles' pals searched you. They did, but I pawned the bill. And after they got through frisking me, I simply put the bill in my pocket. Now, listen. It all adds up to... I know what it adds up to, Ellery. Once we get Nicky back, I'll do what I can for her, but...

Sure. Where's that call? Now, what were you going to tell me? Oh, never mind. What's this, Dad? The autopsy report on Buffalo. Very interesting. What's interesting about... The call. I'll get it. Hillary Queen speaking. Hello. How's Nicky? Stop stalling. She's okay. So far. Did you find out where the doll is? Yes. Where is it? I'll tell you when I see you, Frank. You and Joop and Rita...

Will you have a go with it? No, but I'll tell you where you can find it. Where do I meet you? Nothing doing. I don't like it. Suit yourself, Frank. Goodbye. Oh, wait a minute. Don't you care about the day? If you won't let me see it, obviously it's too late. Okay. Tell me where to drive. Pick me up at First Avenue and 96th. Here he is, Duke. Inside. Everything okay, Frank? Sure, Duke. No cops hiding in his car. Nobody's tailed us.

I'll guarantee it. Where's Nicky? Not so fast. Rita, I didn't see you there. Where's Nicky Porter? Where's the dough? No, Nicky, no talk. In here. Nicky. Ellery, hi. Hi, yourself. You all right? They've handled me like a piece of china all day. Oh, Ellery, I'm so glad. Hold it. So here she is, Queen, still in one chunk. Now, where did she hide the dough?

She didn't. What? Henry, what are you talking about? I was able to trace your movements, Nicky. You carried your suitcase right from the train to a station cab. You spoke to no one. No one came near you. You gave the cab driver your home address. He drove you right there. You got out and your landlady saw you come in and go to your room. You didn't drop anything. You didn't leave anything in the cab. The bulk of that stolen money wasn't found in your room because you never brought it there. You never took it from the train, Nicky. Then...

Someone else did? Someone else did. Melania. Next thing we know, you'll be telling us she didn't bop off Ernie Buffel. She didn't. She didn't? I... I didn't, Allard? No, Nicky. I just saw the autopsy report. I didn't... At the time of the shots, you were on the floor, and Buffel was coming at you, leaning over you. The autopsy report shows that all six bullets struck Buffel's head at the top and at the back.

Only someone higher than Buffel could have fired those shots. Someone else that sneaked into the compartment? Yes, Rita. Now it's perfectly clear, isn't it? You were all in on that Chicago robbery with Buffel. You all came in on the same train, Buffel carrying the money. At the last moment, Buffel decided to double-cross the rest of you. He got into Nicky's compartment and tried to get her to carry the money off the train for him so he could recover her suitcase later...

and have the whole hall for himself. Ernie double-crossed us? Yes, Rita. What's more, one of you was afraid of just that and followed Buffalo. Ann stood outside Nicky's compartment. Ann heard the whole thing. That one entered the compartment, shot Buffalo with his own gun, framed Nicky for the murder, and walked off the train carrying the money, saying nothing to the other two of you. Not only was Buffalo a double-crosser, one of you three is a double-crosser, too.

Where's that 254 grand, Rita? I didn't take it, Jupe. Oh, I wouldn't have killed Ernie. Not Ernie. Frank, don't put the finger on me, Jupe. You got nothing on me. Maybe you did it yourself. Yeah, it's one of you two. I didn't swear on that bank job to get cheated out of mine. Neither did I. Hold it. I'll put the finger on the one who killed Buffalo today and hid that money if the other two of you promise to let Nicky Porter and me walk out of here unharmed when I've done so. Sure. Okay. I promise.

No, no, that's too easy. Um, suppose you all put your guns on the table first. There's a guarantee of good faith. Then I've got as good a chance as any of you to grab just in case you, uh, you know, forget your promise. Here's mine. Juke. Okay. Come on, Frank. I got a cleared conscience. One of us is a cuckard liar. Okay, Queen, talk.

Who killed Ernie?

And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have the mystery. Nicky, would you introduce our guest, armchair detective? No, sir. Nicky's still a little shaky, so I'm going to help out while Nicky rests. Is that the real reason you want to be in on this interview? Why, of course, Ellery. Well, anyway, it's a very great pleasure to introduce our guest for tonight, that world-famous personality currently appearing at the Palladium Theater in Sydney, Miss Gypsy Rose Lee. Welcome to the show, Miss Lee. Well, thank you, Ellery. And thank you, Inspector. Yes.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Of course, Ellery, you're much more fortunate than I am. You have your wonderful father to help you solve your solution. Yes, Miss Lee, I am. I'm very fortunate. However, before we proceed with your solution to the mystery, we'd all like to meet you personally. Yes, indeed. You've certainly been a smash hit at the Sydney Palladium. Are you visiting any other Australian cities, Miss Lee? Oh, I wish I were, but I'm going to have to get on back home, I'm afraid. I'm going to have to get on back home.

Although we'd like to play Adelaide and Melbourne and particularly Perth. Uh-huh. I'd love to see Perth. People have told me it's so beautiful. Well, then, we'd... Miss Lee, how do you like the audiences here? Oh, I think they're just simply wonderful. I think your curtain's pretty cute, too. You know that? Well,

Yeah, well, that's really... Miss Lee, of course, you're a well-known mystery writer yourself, too, aren't you? I mean, I've read your mysteries. Mother Finds the Body and the Striptease Murder. Oh, they're wonderful. Well, thank you, honey. Actually, you know, at home, the Striptease Murders wasn't called that at all. It was called the G-String Murders. Oh?

But they figured that in Australia, they wouldn't know what a G-string is, so they'd probably think it was something to do with a violin. So they changed it to striptease murders. I see. Well, you're quite a... Yes, I think that's marvelous, Miss Lee. And do you have any particular hobbies outside the theater and writing? Well, yes, I have. What is your favorite hobby? Well... I could sort of match it, maybe, and we could compare hobbies.

Well, wherever you like. I like to collect stamps.

Yes, yes, yes. Philately is one of my hobbies. In fact, I'm thinking of taking it up full time, aren't I, Ellery? Wasn't I talking to you just the other day, and I said... I guess so, Dad. Yeah, sure. Now, thank you very much, Miss Lee, but I think it's about time we got to our problem. I'll do it, Ellery. I'll do it. Now, Miss Lee, who killed Buffle and hid the money? Oh, dear. I'm not really sure, you know. But I have a very sneaking hunch...

that Rita might have done it. Just on general principles, that is. I don't have any evidence against her, not even circumstantial evidence. But I don't like her personally. I see. And of course, I do think that whoever got rid of Buffalo was doing an awfully good deed anyway. Yes. Well, thank you. Thank you, Miss Lee. And in just a moment, we'll learn if your solution is the correct one. I'm on your side, Miss Lee. If there's anything I can do, you can be sure that I...

Rita, how much money was in that haul? 258 grand. $258,000. But Buffalo's killer left some of that money to frame Nicky Porter. So he didn't get away with the whole amount. Duke, how much did the killer actually get away with? I just said a minute ago. 254 grand. 254,000. Frank, is that right? Huh? Yeah.

No. It ought to be $2.55. The papers today said three $1,000 bills were left on the floor of the train. The papers were wrong, Frank, because the papers didn't know that the killer left an additional $1,000 bill in Nicky Porter's coat pocket where I found it.

So that does make four, and four from 258 is 254, as Jupe correctly stated. Hey, Frank, he sees Jupe, but apparently you don't. Because only three people in the universe know that the exact amount in the killer's possession is $254,000, Jupe. I'm one of them. My father, Inspector Queen, is number two, and he didn't know until 30 seconds before Frank's phone call to me tonight. And Buffalo's killer is the third. And how did you know, Jupe? Well, I...

This Damien is Nicky. She spelled it today. Impossible, Joop. Nicky herself didn't know. I never told her. No, Joop, there's only one way you could have known. And that's if you planted that bill in Nicky's pocket. Don't move. Dirty double-crosser had another gun. Get to the other side of the room, all of you. I'm going to take these rods, I'm going to get that door, and I'm going to scram out of here.

But when it comes after me, get... Don't move, Juke. Go on, get him, man. Oh, I'm not in bed. Yeah, do you hear what he said, Ellery? He's gonna get the dough and scram out of here. That means he's hidden it in this house. Ben, search the house. Okay, sir. Come on, Juke. Take these two cuties in, too. Come on. Nicky. Nicky, I can't tell you how I feel thinking all day today that you...

Oh, Nicky, will you forgive me? Ellery, it's the inspector. When did he get here? Huh? Good grief, Dad, it's another attack of amnesia. Oh, nonsense, son. She's just out on her feet. Come on, honey. We'll take you home. Grab her under the other arm, Ellery. Easy does it, Dad. Oh, Nicky.

And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have the solution to our mystery. Thanks again, Gypsy Rose Lee. And thanks to the directors of the Palladium Theatre, Sydney, who made it possible for you to come along and be our guest armchair detective this evening. Nicky? Never mind, Nicky, you rest here. Yes, Miss Lee, I'd also like you to accept this subscription to the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, which I'll send to wherever you may be. Oh, thank you, Inspector.

Well, good night, Ellery. Good night, listeners. Come on, sweetie. Let's us go play with our stamps, shall we? Well, thank you, Gypsy Rosalie. And now, all you home armchair detectives. Oh, Miss Lee. Dad. Okay. Good night, everyone, until next week. The Adventures of Ellery Queen is a Grace Gibson Radio production directed by John Saul. The Adventures of Ellery Queen

My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off. Then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. Quiet, please. Quiet, please. ♪♪

The Mutual Broadcasting System presents Quiet, Please, which is written and directed by Willis Cooper and which features Ernest Chappell. Quiet, Please for tonight is called Gem of Purest Ray. Elefherios Moraides. M-O-R-A-I... I don't know how to spell it. I'm Greek, too. Are you? I didn't get your name. Pappas. Nick Pappas, Detective Sergeant, First Grade.

We got your address, 47 North 51st Street. Well, who's that you're there, Dr. Moraitis? I'm sorry, I don't speak modern Greek. I assume that to mean, how do you do, though? That's right. Well, kalah. Well, you kalah, huh? After killing this guy. I have no regrets at all, Mr. Papas, is it? That's right. Well, go ahead.

There's nothing more to say. You know that what you're saying will be used in evidence against you, don't you? Yes, of course. Mm-hmm. I'm getting pretty tired of it, Papas. Of what, Dr. Moraitis? Killing these people. Oh? Do you suppose they'll... Electrocute you? They sure will, Moraitis.

Electrocute. What a word. Quite an experience, too. They tell me... I wasn't thinking about the experience. It's the barbarism of the word that sets my teeth on edge. Words like electrocute, locate, reside... What's the matter with them? They get me down. Well, not to change the subject, but what about these other people you mentioned? Oh, I was just thinking...

As long as they're going to send me to the electric chair... Oh, you're on the way, okay, Moraitis. Well, in that case, I might as well tell you about the others. Sure. Go right ahead. And I could warn you at the same time. Warn me? Yes. Warn me of what? These people that have to be killed. Oh? Uh, who are they, Moraitis? I'm of perfectly sound mind, Sergeant Pappas. You bet. Now, let's get this conference session over with first, huh? Then we'll get on to the warning, huh?

Okay. Well, so far as I can remember, there are 32 of them. All together? That I've murdered. Killed. This one makes 33. No, he's the 32nd. Well, nice going. You have their names, I suppose. No, not all of them. As a matter of fact, I have the names of only a few of them.

I could give you the details of the murders, you see, and perhaps you could work back from that. Yeah, I suppose we could, couldn't we? But there are so many more of them. So? You find them everywhere. Good. And they've all got to be destroyed. Who's going to destroy them? Well, I've destroyed 32 of them. And now you're going to hang me. Objection, Doctor.

We're going to fry you. For trying to save the world? Uh-uh. For knocking off Mr. Oliver Meredith, 38, of 202 South Winter Street, to which you have confessed, and for which you will be fried like a fish. I am not a fish! Not yet. He's a fish! Who's a fish? This... This Meredith that I killed. Say, you may get out yet in a loony plea. Sergeant Poppins, did you see Meredith's body? Sure.

Did you look at it carefully? Careful enough to see it was dead. Dead as a fish. Did you notice his neck? No. What? There are two scars on his neck. On each side. Just...

Below his ears. That's the coroner's business, doctor. It's your business. It's everybody's business. Why? Because that's the way you can identify them. Identify who, for gosh sake? The people that are trying to destroy the world. Who? The people from the bottom of the ocean. Those scars on their necks are gills. Gills like a fish. Excuse me, I am becoming ungrammatical. I mean they are gills such as fishes possess.

No fins? I beg you, Sergeant, please don't joke about this. And they come from the bottom of the ocean. They do. Lean over here. Turn your head. The other way now. How come you got scars on the sides of your neck, Dr. Moraitis? You been to the bottom of the ocean, too? Yes. Those are my gills. Yes, I've been to the bottom of the ocean, too.

We Greeks have an enormous affinity for the depths of the seas. Our first heroes were men of the sea, Jason. Tendulisius and the others. We were a seagoing, a sea-loving nation. When the very words we use to describe the sea today came from the Greek, Pelagian, of the sea. From the Greek, Pelagos. Plankton, the microscopic animal forms that lie at various levels in the ocean depths. That's a Greek word, too. Plankton, a wanderer.

And Atlantis was one of our colonies. Atlantis, whose people so loved the sea that the gods of ancient Greece sunk the whole continent into its depths. You believe that kind of junk? And you'd better believe it too, Sergeant Pappas of the police. Yeah? Because Atlantis exists today. And its people live. And the ambassadors of Atlantis come from the sea to live beside us and sow seeds of discontent and hatred among us.

Wherever we live. You remember me now, don't you? The Moraitis Deep Sea Exploration Group, that's right. Men have gone down to the depths of the sea before. William Beebe in his bathysphere, you remember, of course. Bathysphere. We Greeks again. Comes from bathos, depth. Uh-huh. But I wanted to go deeper, to plumb the utmost depths of the sea. To get down to the valleys that extend farther below the sea's level and the highest peaks on Earth and above it. I...

I wanted to find Atlantis. I found myself in possession of certain documents, charts, maps, the existence of which had heretofore never been suspected. And I found the exact coordinates of latitude and longitude of the ancient city, the capital of the country that sank below the waves so many, many centuries ago. No, never mind them. It will do you no good to know them. Let it suffice that the depth is something more than eight miles. I beg pardon? I said, go on.

No need to tell you either of the details of the construction of my diving bell. It was made to my own specifications, internally braced to withstand the pressure of several tons to the square inch. There was light and heat and large ports set in the sides with cone-shaped plexiglass deadlights so that no matter what the pressure of the water from the outside, the plexiglass would be only forced in tighter. But the thing busted anyway, didn't it? That was the story. What really happened was somewhat different.

Get on with your story, Doctor. If you'd just not interrupt me. Go ahead. If you read the newspaper accounts at the time... When was it? May 17th, 1946. Go ahead. I was going to say that you might have remembered that there was no physical connection between the bell and the surface. That is, it was not on a cable of any kind. It was free. How'd you expect to get back?

By releasing ballast, of course, upon which the bell and the people in it, if any, would rise to the surface. We had, of course, radio contact with our headquarters ship on the surface. And you and the woman... Miss Elizabeth Case. You and... My assistant. Yes. You and this Miss Case went down in this thing, and it busted or something, and they pulled you out of the ocean at Old Saybrook, Connecticut. They never found Miss Case's body. Is that right? Yes.

They didn't find Miss Casey's body because she is still alive. Or was when I last saw her. Oh, yeah? And when did you last see her, Doc? Standing in front of the Temple of Poseidon. And where is this Temple of Poseidon, if you please? In Atlantis. Forty-some thousand feet below the surface of the ocean. And what was she doing, Doc? She was talking to the high priest. Talking? Forty thousand feet underwater and she talks?

Well, Doc, you're really bucking for a Section 8, aren't you? I am telling you the truth, Sergeant Puppers. Okay, go ahead. As long as you don't get violent. It is very quiet in the lower depths of the ocean. I remember the bathymeter showed a depth of 8,000 meters, that is, roughly 20,000 feet, when we saw the first inhabitant of the ocean, completely different from any previous conception of ocean life. Doctor, look out this port. See something? Look. Well...

I wonder if it's alive. It seems to be. Looks like a great big sheep. I don't see any eyes or a mouth or anything. It's coming closer. It's alive, all right. This is wonderful, isn't it? Well, doctor, it is alive. Looks like a blanket. Ah, oh, it's turning over. Now maybe we'll see what... What did she scream about? The thing turned over.

Then we saw the other side. Well? The thing was a huge face. A human face. A woman's face. Paper thin, flesh colored, and alive. Thirty feet across, like a huge mask. And the thing looked at us, and it smiled. Then it darted toward us, and Betty screamed again as the thing wrapped itself around the diving belt. And I could see the plexiglass ports start inward with the increased pressure. And then I looked closer at the port...

And across its surface outside there in the water, a million tiny hands, women's hands, crawled across the glass, clutching, reaching, trying to come inside. And what did you do then, Doc? I am afraid I fainted. Mm-hmm. What about Miss Case? She fainted too. I sort of expected that. Well, why shouldn't she? The face that she looked at out there in the depths of the sea was her own. Better and better, Dr. Moraitis. Then what?

It was black outside when I came to. Black and immeasurably cold. The thing was gone. There was nothing but blackness. I gave her some brandy. Always brandy in these stories. And I took a little myself. Uh-huh. The bathymeter indicated 9,200 meters. And you saw a red, white, and blue turkey with a straw hat. I saw far below me the lights of a city. I saw Atlantis.

Well? Go on, Doc. I show you this jewel. Yeah? What is it? I found it on the floor of my diving bell a moment after I saw the light of Atlantis below me. How did it get there? I don't know. Well, what is it? You ever read Thomas Gray's Elegy Written in a Country Church Yard? I guess so. In high school.

The curfew told the Nell of parting day? Why? Let me quote one of the couplets to you. Full many a gem of purest rays serene the dark unfathomed caves of ocean bare. Go on, Doctor. I suspect that Thomas Gray was trying to tell the world something. That's kind of reaching for it, Doctor. I didn't know where it came from, I told you. That's right. But Betty Case knew.

Betty Case gasped when she saw it. Where did that come from? Well, I don't know. It was on the floor. Give it to me. Why do you so anxious? Because it's mine. Oh, well. I had a weird idea. It came from outside. Isn't that silly? No, Dr. Moriarty, either.

It isn't silly. What? It did come from outside. And the two red scars on her neck. Just below her ears. The red scars I had never noticed before. Pulsed as she spoke. And I was struck with a queer, fleeting thought. Why? She looks just like a fish. Oh.

And I could feel the motion of the diving bell quicken, and in a moment it was like an express elevator dropping down out of control from some great height. Betty Case was laughing at me, and queer things spread past the port. The light grew stronger in my mind. Suddenly I was flung to the floor as if I was stumped against the bed of the ocean. The limiter registered 13,800 meters below sea level. We had come to rest eight miles below the surface where the sun danced on the waves.

And we sat in bright light in the streets of Atlantis. Well, it's a great story, Dr. Moraitis. A crowd of people in the street. A crowd of people dressed in the garments of ancient Greece. A sound of music that set the beryllium steel walls of the diving bell to hopping. Men and women and children in the light of great lamps beaming down from tall marble columns. Men and women and children living and moving and breathing.

Eight miles below the ocean surface. And I turned to look at Betty Kate. I remembered, Doctor, when I saw the jewel. I remembered when I dreamed after the face looked in my eyes and I fainted. And when I saw the jewel... Betty, this can't be. This is utterly, fantastically impossible. No, it is not, Doctor. Look outside. They're coming closer.

Maddy, look out. Do you see them? Yes, I see them. It isn't impossible, Doctor. This is Atlantis. It can't be. It is. It's Atlantis. I'm home again.

Then she started for the door of the diving bell. Started reaching out for the mechanism that would unlock it, that would open and let the sea in to crush its boat. And I leaped in front of it to prevent her. But she raised the jewel and held it in front of my eyes and I felt my strength leave me suddenly. And all I could see was the coruscating brightness of the jewel burning into my eyes and all I could hear was her voice.

echoing hollowly against the steel wall. No, never seek to stop me now, man of earth.

And I thought idly of the archaic form of speech she employed. This girl who was on earth the most prosaic, dry as dust. Love, Victoria, sister. Never cease to stay my hand. Nor turn thy eyes away from the gem of purest rays. For thou sayest this before thee now, and thou shalt go forth into the depths where mortal man hath not yet trod. And I thought with considerable surprise. Why?

She's speaking the purest of ancient Greek. And I'm understanding it. Now let thee become as one of us. And I watched her calmly as she extended the gleaming jewel toward me. I felt it touch the sides of my neck just below the ears and a searing cold pain went through my body.

and suddenly I was gasping for breath. I drew in great strokes of the oily air of the diving bell, and with each breath I grew weaker and weaker. I was suffocating, like a fish out of water. And as the darkness shot with flashes of dread descended upon me and I knew I was dying, I dimly saw her touch the scar on her neck with a jewel, and she was gasping suddenly, too.

And I saw her reach again for the lever that operated the door. And it burst open. And I felt lights returning to me as I breathed in great lungfuls of cold, pure salt water. Great. Great. And old Kho San gave me my own jewel. The jewel that lies on your desk there.

Po San, the elder with his white beard and the look of antiquity in his eyes, he has lived since Atlantis first disappeared beneath the ocean. Po San spoke to me many times. Never lose the jewel, Eleftherios. When you go back to the land, you'll need it to change your back from a water breather to an air breather, you see. I'm going back then? Yes, of course.

There are a great many messages that I want to send to all people on the land. Messages that cannot be trusted to our ordinary radio, you see. Because the time is almost here. The time? I forgot that you didn't know. Is Betty going back with me? No, she stays here. She'll be here when you come back. Must I come back? You don't want to die, do you?

What do you mean? There isn't going to be any place for you to live up there, you know. What? Sit down, son. You're happy, aren't you? I'm pretty confused, sir. No doubt.

May I ask you some questions? You can ask them, yes. Well, how is it done? Oh, living here? Well, time enough for that. We live. Isn't that enough? No. Next question. Well, Betty...

She's from the land, isn't she? Originally, yes. Did you ever hear of the bark Marisa left? I seem to. It was lost with all hands. That is, all hands were lost. They found the ship, sailing along with all its sails set, food on the table, still hot, and nobody aboard.

It was one of the greatest mysteries of the sea. I remember. That it was a passenger on the Marie Celeste. But... But that was more than a hundred years ago. Yes, that's so. And the car your Cyclops that was lost in your... World War in 1918. You remember that? Yes. They're all here. The Cyclops crew. They are? Well, except those we sent up to the surface. Well, what do you send those people up there for?

Well, we've decided that we are the ones that the world belongs to, Eleftherios. You people up on the surface have made a pretty bad mess of things, and we're going to take it away from you. How? What we want is a world that's covered with water everywhere. Land is useless to us. But... But what? The people up there. My people. Hmm.

Are you proud of your people, Eleftherios? Well... Of course. Look, some really essentially kind-hearted people down here. And there are a great many. There are more of us than there are people on the land. Well, yes, but I... Don't interrupt. You think your people are so clever? Where do you think they get their knowledge? Of what, for instance? Of ways to make war, for instance. Of ways to make deadlier and deadlier war.

They didn't think of those things themselves. You know where they got their ideas. You're not going to tell me. Oh, but I am. Look, some there are right now 65,211 Atlanteans on the surface of the Earth. In every country that's known. And some that aren't very well known. They speak every language. They look like Earth people except for the two little scars on their necks. And they're doing a great job.

I don't believe it. Well, you'd better believe it, son, because one of these fine days, your little friends upstairs are going to blast all the continents right off the face of the earth. You know what happens then? I... Yes, that's right. There won't be anything but water on this little old planet. So you can make your choice. You can use your jewel like the other Atlanteans up there will and come on back down here. Or, blub, blub, son...

Blub, blub. Strictly. Blub, blub. I don't... Even if that thing doesn't kill you when it goes off. So, what do you say? What do you want me to do? Go on back for a while and help us in our little whispering campaign to destroy the continent. I won't do it. Well, son, down here on the bottom, we've solved the problem of combating pressure.

If you decide not to come along with us, we'll just take that control off you. Tap you with the business end of the little jewel here and you know what'll happen? I have an idea. Oh, no. No, you haven't. You haven't any idea. But, son, it'll be awful. Come on, make up your mind. And?

What? I said, and? Well, I'm here. I don't know how they did it, but I'm here. You certainly are. Well, you been passing the words of a little ambassador to what the old gentleman wants back? I have not.

I told you I've killed 32 of them so far, including Miss Meredith. It's a great alibi. You think I'm going to betray the people of the Earth, man? You're betraying the people of the sea, aren't you? What? You heard me. Well, it's a great story, Doc. I knew that you wouldn't believe me. It's a great story. But you don't believe it. Think I'm crazy? What? Of course I believe it, Doc. What? Sure I do.

Well, then... Come here, Doc. What do you want? I want you to look at the size of my neck, Doc. Just below the ears. You... You... Sure, Doc. See?

What are you going to do? I'm not going to electrocute you, Doc. Nah, Doc. The old gentleman downstairs has got better tricks than that for people to try to cross him up. Come on, Doc. Pick up your crystal. You and I have got a date in Atlantis. And, oh, brother! Oh!

Quiet, please, for tonight was called Gem of Purest Ray. It was written and directed by Willis Cooper and Moraitis, the man who spoke to you, was Ernest Chappell. And Morton Lawrence played Pappas. Charita Bauer was Betty Case. Edgar Staley was Fosan, the Atlantean. As usual, music for Quiet, Please is played by Albert Berman. Now for a word from our writer-director, Willis Cooper.

Never having been to the bottom of the sea, I'm uncertain whether the various Atlanteans really exist outside my own imagination. I can assure you, Harvard, that many of the characters in tonight's story are based on a living person. Or any dead one, for that matter. Next week's Quiet, Please is called In the House Where I Was Born. And so, until next week at this same time...

and Mr. Cooper's story in the house where I was born. I am quietly yours, Ernest Chappell. Quiet Please has come to you from Mutual Studios in New York City. This is the world's largest network, the Mutual Broadcasting System.

My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off and use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. The National Broadcasting Company presents Radio City Playhouse, Attraction 24. Radio City Playhouse

Ladies and gentlemen, here is the director of Radio City Playhouse, Harry W. Duncan. Thank you, Bob Warren. Friends, tonight's story, The Wisdom of Eve, is adapted by Miss Mary Orr from her story of the same name which appeared in Cosmopolitan Magazine. We're happy to have a script by this very talented writer on Radio City Playhouse. With her husband, Reginald Denham, Miss Orr is co-author of the Broadway hit Wallflower, which later became a Warner Brothers picture.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

If you were listening to the radio last night, perhaps you heard what Ronnie Dawson, the famous Hollywood commentator, had to say about Eve Harrington.

But of course, ladies and gentlemen, the most thrilling story in Hollywood this weekend is unfortunately news no longer. You've read it splashed across your Sunday papers, the fabulous and heartwarming story of Eve Harrington, who with nothing but talent to help her, has risen in one short year from a stage struck unknown to the most loved, most sought after, most talented actress Hollywood has seen in a generation. ♪

She was so hauntingly lovely, with that petal-like skin and those great, sad blue eyes. I first saw Eve Harrington a year ago. Lloyd, my husband, was the author of the play in which Margot Cranston scored such a triumph.

Margot and I are friends, and frequently after a performance, I drop into Margot's dressing room to say hello. This particular day, Eve Harrington was lurking outside the stage entrance with only a pathetic little red coat to protect her from the January weather. I'll always remember that pathetic little red coat at the stage entrance.

Mrs. Richards. Mrs. Richards. Yes? You are Mrs. Richards, aren't you? The wife of the playwright? Yes, I am. Would you please, please take me in to meet Miss Cranston? Please. If I could just get into her dressing room and talk to her. She's allergic to strangers, child. Perhaps if you let me have your autograph, we'll talk. No, Mrs. Richards. I want to talk to her. Please.

Please. Well, I... Oh, please, Mrs. Richards. Well, if it means that much to you, come along. Now, mind you, I can't guarantee anything. Oh, I know, Mrs. Richards, but you're her friend. You never can tell what mood Margot will be in. Isn't she simply wonderful, Mrs. Richards? Isn't she? You poor kid.

You've really got a crush on her, haven't you? Well, I think she's the greatest actress I've ever seen. Well, wait here and I'll see if she wants to talk to anybody. I've got all the time in the world, Mrs. Richards.

I may not be able to work it. Hello, Margo. Can I come in? Karen, darling, bless you. Come in, come in. Did you bring the new draft of Lloyd's play for me to read? I did. I hope you like it. I hope he's made Cora a little more mature. Oh, Margo, you're not too old to play Cora. Lloyd thinks you can play anything. Well, darling, I should hope so.

I always have. And I? Margot, there's a kid outside who's dying to meet you. She goes into a trance at the mere mention of your name. Oh, get rid of her, Karen. I'm in no mood for autograph hunts today. I just can't... Oh, be a sport, Margot. She's just a skimpy kid in a moth-eaten red coat. Give her a break. Red coat and little red beret? Yes. Do you know her? That stray's been haunting the stage entrance for days. She must be crazy. All right, bring her in.

Don't suppose she'll mind if I'm all over cold cream. She's such a wistful little thing. I feel sorry for her. Hey, Red Riding Hood. You can come in. Thanks, Mrs. Richard. Well, come on. Come on. This is Miss Cranston. Miss, um... Harrington. Eve Harrington. How do you do?

Oh, Miss Cranston, this is a dream. Am I actually in your dressing room? I can't believe it. I've seen the play 14 times, and you're even more beautiful than I imagined.

You're not serious. Not 14 times. Oh, I only buy standing room. I go without my lunches to save the money. The ushers know me now. They save me a place. Have you honestly seen this place 14 times? I just can't help it, Miss Cranston. You're so wonderful. It's very touching. Isn't it, Karen? Touching? I hardly describe it.

What do you do for a living, Miss Harrington? I'm a stenographer, Mrs. Richards. But my real life begins when I come to the theater to watch Miss Cranston. Well, my dear. I haven't been so flattered in years. I...

Look here, how would you like to come back to my apartment and have some supper? My husband's out of town, and we can be all alone and talk about my acting. Oh, Miss Cranston, that would be the most wonderful thing that could possibly happen to me. I couldn't think of anything that would make me happier.

So that's the way I met Eve Harrington. A pathetic little stage-struck kid with that soft, childlike loveliness. Margot, of course, being only human, was touched and flattered by the adoration. I'm fond of Margot. Without her, Lloyd's plays might have run two weeks instead of two years. Margot was a genius. She had that solid gold type of talent, the talent that comes from a brilliant mind working terribly hard.

Sometimes she was temperamental, sometimes effective, sometimes downright disagreeable. But she was good company and a good sport, and by and large, we got along splendidly. For about three weeks after this, I didn't see Margot. And then one afternoon, I thought I'd just drop up to her apartment and have a gossip. I'd completely forgotten Eve Harrington. Completely forgotten her. That's why I was so surprised when she answered the door of Margot's apartment.

Well, if it isn't little Red Riding Hood. What are you doing here? Hello, Mrs. Richards. Do come in. Thank you. Why? But you're looking ravishing. It's because I'm so happy, Mrs. Richards. Miss Cranston has engaged me as her secretary. I take messages, answer fan mail, send out pictures. Well, it's about time Margo had someone to take care of the correspondence.

She still hasn't acknowledged a Christmas present I sent her in 1942. She's so wonderful. Sit down, Mrs. Richards. Miss Cranston's in the bath, but she'll be out shortly. Shall I tell her you're here? Oh, that can wait. Tell me about you. Oh, it's so wonderful. I go to the theater with her every night and stand in the wings and study her and watch her. Why do you want to study her? Oh, dear, I guess I've let it slip out. Let what slip out?

Oh, Mrs. Richards, I do so want to act someday. You don't know what it's like to want something so badly that... well, that you can hardly stand it. I know I've got talent. I know I have.

I lie awake at night dreaming that I'm Margot Cranston, that I'm taking the bows, hearing the applause. I've learned every word of her part, every gesture, every movement she makes. And you know, Mrs. Richards, I could do that part. Eve! I could. I've taken it down in shorthand. If only she'd let me understudy her. If she'd only give me a chance to know what I could do, I... Eve, I don't like this. Margot thinks you're her secretary, and already you've designed some new jobs.

I don't think it's honest, and I don't like it. But, Mrs. Richards, I don't mean any harm. I wouldn't do anything to hurt Miss Cranston for the world... Does Margot know you want to act this badly? No. Well, why don't you tell her? I'm afraid. Do you think she'd help me? Well, I... She wouldn't. Oh, I don't know what to think. Sometimes I think it's awful of me not to let her know, and other times I...

Mrs. Richards, what will I do? I want so terribly to act. I don't want to be deceitful. I think you should tell her. She'll think you've lied to her. You never once let on you were interested in the stage career yourself. Mrs. Richards, when you were young, I mean when you were my age, didn't you ever want anything so badly that it almost made you sick? My dear child, we've all wanted things.

All of us. There isn't an understudy now. If Miss Cranston was sick, the show just wouldn't go on. Couldn't you ask her to let me take her part in the understudy rehearsals? Couldn't you? Eve, my dear. Margot is never sick. She's as tough as a truck. She's got germ-resistant bumpers. But it would be such a wonderful experience. Oh, I know I'd never get to play the role, but...

Couldn't you just suggest that I... will not say anything about my wanting to act? You're very sweet, Eve. And very young.

I'll see what she says. She won't let me do it if you say I want to understudy her. It's got to be that I just want some extra money. Oh, Mrs. Richards, please, please help me. It won't do any harm. I could never hope to ever play the role, but I'd learn so much. And there's so much for me to learn. And I want to so badly. Please. Well, I'll see. And you won't tell her I want to be an actress. What harm can that do? No.

I'm just a nobody, and she's famous. If I lose this job, I'll have to go back to stenography. Please, don't give me away. No, Eve. I won't give you away. I promise. The girl made my heart ache. It made me remember when I was 22, how I wanted to be an actress. But nobody ever took an interest in me. Eve didn't mean any harm. She was just a stage-struck kid.

After all, what harm could it do to Margo to let the kid take part in the understudy rehearsals? And it would make Eve so happy. I wanted to see Eve happy. I liked her. I felt sorry for her. She was so sweet and so young. I brought the subject up in Margo's dressing room a couple of days later.

By the way, Margot, there's something I wanted to ask you. Lloyd and I came to the understudy rehearsal this morning. They're pretty handicapped because there's nobody to read your part. We never thought it necessary to engage in understudy for me. If I couldn't go on some night, the show just wouldn't open. I know, dear, but it would be a help to the cast if somebody read your part.

I was wondering if... What? Well, that little secretary of yours. Why not pay her a few extra dollars to read your part at the understudy with her so she could probably use the money? Well, she probably could at that. It's decent of you, Margot, to take her under your wing.

strangely drawn to her. You know, I've the hunch she's stage-struck. She wants to act, poor kid. I don't think she's too talented either. Then you wouldn't mind her leading your party? My dear Karen, why should I? Let her do it. It'll give her some extra money, and it may prove to her that it isn't as easy as it looks.

You know what's funny about Eve? What? If I asked her to jump in front of a taxi, I believe she'd do it without a qualm. So, Eve got the chance to read Margot's part. Two weeks later, I dropped in at an understudy rehearsal to watch her.

I was completely staggered. The girl was sensational. She had everything. She had looks, brains, talent, everything. I came away from the rehearsal with a lump in my throat because I had a feeling that Eve would never make it, never achieve success. She wasn't tough enough. She was too delicate, too honest.

I wanted to give her the benefit of my experience, the benefit of 15 years spent knocking around with theater people, knowing how things worked, how tough you've got to be. One night, Lloyd came home trembling with rage and hurt feelings. He'd had a row with Margot. I'd never seen him so stressed.

Of all the egotistical, disagreeable, foul-tempered, broken-down old bags I've ever met in my 15 years in the theater, Margot breaks every record ever set. Now, darling, calm down. Take it easy. She threw a hairbrush at me. Oh. Threw it at me. Oh, Lord. Tore the script in half, jumped on it, and darn near brained me with a hairbrush. She's crazy, absolutely crazy. I know Margot's a little difficult sometimes, but you've just got to... Difficult? She is nuts.

I never saw such an exhibition of temper in my life. Lloyd, why don't you just break with her? Why put up with it? Ah, that's the trouble, Karen. I've got to put up with it. I need her. We both need her. She may be the devil on wheels, but she's still the best actress in New York. No!

I felt sorry for Lloyd. He's sensitive and a fine writer. But I felt Margot behaved pretty badly. I decided that perhaps it wouldn't hurt Margot to be taken down a peg. Maybe you'll think that's being petty and nasty, but when you love your husband and see him being made miserable by a temperamental actress, you sometimes do things you're sorry for. So I tipped Eve off, told her what I was going to do.

Then I invited Margot up to our place in Meadowbrook for the weekend. Then I... I deliberately made her miss the train back on Monday. It was a rotten trick, I suppose, but... Well, I figured it wouldn't do Margot any harm. What's missing one performance? Well, we... We had to drive back through a blizzard and we got to the theater in time to see Eve play the final ten minutes of the last act.

She was wonderful. I'd told her what critics to call, and they'd all turned up. The next day, Eve gave an interview to the columnist that almost turned my stomach. I just couldn't imagine her saying such things. I couldn't imagine that gentle, soft little voice being so cruel, being so heartless and so calculating. Oh, you see.

You see, gentlemen, I was never a fan of Miss Cranston's in my heart. Of course, I admire her no end. But her art doesn't come from inside. It's not profound. It's an external surface thing. A veneer of shallow technique. And anyway, this part calls for youth and...

Well, I have youth. Whereas Miss Cranston, let's face it, is no longer an ingenue, even if she thinks she is. That's the trouble with the theater today. Practically every play is miscast with middle-aged women playing young virgins of 22 because those actresses are names like Margot Cranston. I was sick when I read it. I couldn't believe it. It was incredibly cruel.

Of course, Margot and Eve had a showdown. By the time Margot got through with her, Eve Harrington was in shreds. Margot kicked her out bodily. As for me, I felt badly. I'd placed temptation in Eve's way and then hadn't told her how to behave, how to handle success.

However, I decided I'd just been wrong about the girl, that she was really pretty cheap. I'd forgotten about her. Margot never found out about the train missing business, and the whole incident was forgotten. Then one day, about three months later, Eve Harrington forced her way into the apartment, passed the maid, and right into my bedroom. She'd tried to talk to me on the phone, but I'd refused to speak to her. I'd told her the maid, I'd told the maid, I just wasn't at home to Eve Harrington, no matter what she wanted me to do.

Mrs. Richards, I know you don't want to see me, but I've got to talk to you. I've just got to. I forced my way past you, Maiden. I've just got to talk to you. I'm afraid there's nothing to talk about. But there is. There is. Please. Oh, I've been so miserable. I've hated myself. I'm not in the mood for a see-me. If you want to behave yourself, you may sit down and talk to me for exactly five minutes. Then you have to go. Now, what do you want to say? Mrs. Richards, I...

I've no more money. None. How unfortunate. I've only got a dollar left. Well, I'm sorry. Well, it was your fault. It was your idea that I go on that night. You told me to get those critics. Why didn't you tell me what to say? My fault? Now, look here, Eve Harrington. Well, it was...

I was just a scared kid from Milwaukee. Why didn't you tell me what to say, how to behave? You should never have let me make such a fool of myself. I thought I was being smart. And you only succeeded in being stupid and ridiculous. I know, I know. Don't you think I know that? It was a hateful, horrible thing to do. Margot Cranston had been kind to me, and I repaid her by being...

Every time I think of it, it makes me sick. Well, I'm glad you've the decency to be sorry. I'm not really that way, Mrs. Richards. I'm not really mean and hateful.

Oh, I wish I was dead. Oh, come now, Eve. It isn't that bad. I've been horrible and mean and nasty, and I wish I was dead. Please, Eve, please, stop crying. And I have no money. Well, I can let you have a little money. Oh, what's the use? My justice will starve. Just by this one silly, horrible mistake, I've ruined my whole career.

It went to my head, Mrs. Richards. I just didn't know what I was saying at that interview. With all those people listening to every word I said and writing it down, I just didn't know what I was saying. Oh, can't you believe that I didn't really mean it? That I'm sorry? That I didn't really mean to hurt Miss Cranston? Can't you believe that? Eve, maybe this has done you some good. Believe me, I'm sorry for you.

But maybe you've learned an important lesson. Maybe you've learned what integrity means. Maybe you've learned that if you kick people too hard on your way up the ladder, they kick you on your way down. Oh, I have. I have. Honestly, I have. Well, leave me your address and I'll send you some money in the morning. I don't want charity, Mrs. Richards. What do you want?

I've no right to ask it, Mrs. Richards, but I saw in the papers that Mr. Richards' new play is being cast. There's nothing in it for you, Eve. Mrs. Richards, I read that play when your husband left it for Miss Cranston to read. I understand she refuses to do the part. I'm afraid that's true. I could do it. Eve, don't be ridiculous. Cora's a lead. Lloyd wants a name. As a matter of fact, he wants Margo, but...

She won't touch it. She couldn't do it. Really? I could, Mrs. Richards. I'm young. Cora's a young girl. She's young and intense and... Well, she's just like me. I know she is. I know that I'm Cora. Couldn't you please ask Mr. Richards to let me read for him? That's all. Just let me read it. If he doesn't like me, I'll never bother you again. I promise. Well, Eve, I don't know. I've learned my lesson, Mrs. Richards.

I promise I'll never do anything mean or dishonest again, ever. Ever as long as I live. If you'll just please let me read for that part. But Eve, I... Oh, just let me read for it. If I'm not right, I'll go right back to Milwaukee. I'll give up. But I've just got to read for that part. I've got to. She was so pathetic sitting there on my bed. So terribly young, so terribly earnest. I felt almost old enough to be a mother.

Even though I'm only 36, he's made me feel as old as the world. This was youth, wanting, suffering, aching for success, longing for recognition. I'd become happy and calm. I was content to be a good wife to a fine playwright. I wanted nothing more out of life. I'd forgotten that when I was her age, I wanted to act too. She brought it all back to me.

Basically, the girl was decent. I was convinced of that. Basically, she was a sweet, misguided kid that had let one little success go to her head. So I asked Lloyd to read her. He did. I sent her $100 in the mail. She bought herself a decent dress and went down a week later and read the part of Cora. I had no idea what Lloyd would think of...

I'm glad you're back, Johnny. I know you're bad. I know you're bad and I don't care. Can't you understand that? I know you're bad and I just don't care. Thank you, Miss Harrington. Thank you. Did you like it? As a matter of fact, I like it very much. I like it so much that... Well, you see, I always consult Mrs. Richards before I cast. Before I make a final decision.

I'd like you to read again next Thursday. I'll have Mrs. Richards come down and hear you, too. If she likes you, the part's yours.

So you see, Mrs. Richards, I'm reading for both of you tomorrow. Eve, don't count too much on it. I really can't promise you anything. You're still good friends with Miss Cranston? Of course we're good friends. We disagreed about Cora, but Margot's going on tour with the Ten Divines next week. She'll probably tour for a year in it. I see. I wish I could be sure that Mr. Richards would cast me a...

I've run up a few bills. I mean, on the strength of getting the part, I've bought some clothes. Eve, dear, you're such a child. You mustn't count on it. You just mustn't. You've never got a part until the contract's signed. I'd hate to see you disappointed. Lloyd liked you very much, but he's also considering another girl. I think it's between the two of you. I'll honestly have to tell him if I like the other girl better. I'm sorry, Mrs. Richards. I can't risk that. Well, I don't quite understand what you mean.

I hate to do this, Mrs. Richards, but I think you'd better choose me. I beg your pardon? It would be very awkward for you if Miss Cranston decided she didn't want to take your husband's play on tour, wouldn't it? What are you trying to say? Just that it would be very unfortunate if Miss Cranston broke up her business association with you and Mr. Richards. Go on, Eve. Well...

I think Miss Cranston would be very annoyed if I told her that you'd made her miss the train that night. She's always wondered how I managed to get the critics there, how I knew in advance that I'd be playing the role. You see, I phoned the critics Monday morning. Miss Cranston didn't miss the train until Monday evening. Don't you think it would be rather unpleasant? Why, you cheap little... Temper, temper, Mrs. Richards.

If the truth were to come out, I don't think Miss Cranston would ever do one of your husband's plays again. Why, I... I don't think she'd go on tour with the Tender Vines. After all, she doesn't need the money. You do, don't you? You dirty little blackmailer. What a stupid fool I've been. You're quite an actress, Eve. I was actually feeling motherly towards you. Just for the record, is there anything you wouldn't do to get a pardoned?

Not that I can think of, Mrs. Richards. I told Lloyd to give her the part, and he did. He coached her, worked with her, and he did the job so well that for the first time in his career, he had a hit without Margot Cranston. Everybody went crazy about her. She was so sweet, so charming, so talented.

Now she's gone to Hollywood. She's sensational there, too. Gracious, unspoiled, a sweet, unsophisticated, typical American girl. She's made two pictures already, both of them hugely successful. She's photographed in her pool, out of her pool, beside her pool, and, well, that's the story of Eve Harrington. It's all just as Ronnie Dawson says. Hollywood columnists, of course, are always getting exclusive. They know the real story.

I asked you before if you'd heard Ronnie's broadcast last night, didn't I? It was really very interesting. Very interesting. And so, ladies and gentlemen, this wonderful young girl, who's achieved such tremendous success as an actress, crowned those triumphs today by marrying Lloyd Richards in Las Vegas, Nevada. Richards is the famous Broadway playwright who first encouraged Miss Harrington in her career. He is the recently divorced husband of Karen Manners, former stage actress.

This story, ladies and gentlemen, in which a young girl with only talent and brains struggles up from the bottom with no help, no assistance. Only her honest desire to make good should prove an inspiration to all young actresses. It proves what I've always said. Brains, talent, and above all, integrity always pay off. This is Ronnie Dawson saying goodnight to you from Hollywood. Congratulations, Eve.

Stay up there. Yes, you'd better stay up there. You have just heard Radio City Playhouse, Attraction 24, The Wisdom of Eve, written by Mary Orr and directed by Harry W. Junkin.

Claudia Morgan starred as Karen Manners. Eve was played by Marilyn Erskine. Other players included Connie Lemke, Lou Hall, and Mark Roberts. The music was composed and conducted by Dr. Roy Shield. Radio City Playhouse is supervised for the National Broadcasting Company by Richard P. McDonough.

This is Harry Junkin again. Next week on Radio City Playhouse, the bleak and tragic story of Martha Hillman, an overweight, homely girl who missed everything that most women get and which all women want. We hope you'll listen to Machine next week on Radio City Playhouse. Good night, everybody.

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My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

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That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off. Then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. If a dead man reappears on the scene just to get into the spirit of things, isn't it a crime?

WNEW presents the 13th in a series of famous mystery stories relating to the gentle art of mayhem and the less gentle art of murder. Isn't it a crime? ♪♪

This is Jerry Marshall speaking. Now, not only will you hear the exciting story of Speaking of Murder, but you will be invited to join our radio detective force and be given a chance to solve the crime before the answer is revealed, just as if you might have been there on the scene. When all the clues are in, we'll return to the scene of the crime for the solution of tonight's mystery, Speaking of Murder. ♪♪

It's nearly noon. Sunlight pokes inquisitive fingers under the window blinds of the penthouse apartment of Glenn Winthrop, writer of mystery stories. But Glenn isn't having any. His face is buried in the pillow and he sleeps with sound effects. The door opens, framing a lean, melancholy face. The owner of the face peers the figure on the bed, then approaches, holding at arm's length an infernal machine, destroyer of sleep.

shatterer of nerves. Answer the door, Smithers. It's not the door, Mr. Winthrop. Then answer the phone. I want to sleep. It's not the phone, Sam. Whatever it is, answer it.

It's an alarm clock, sir. Oh, no. No alarm clocks. The curfew shall not ring tonight. But it isn't night, sir. It's nearly noon. It's merely a figure of speech, Smithers. I don't care if it's night, morning, or midwinter. Go away and take that instrument of Satan with you. For heaven's sake, Smithers, turn that confounded thing off. Yes, sir.

Now, go away. But, Mr. Winthrop, sir, I must shave you. You'll just sit over there. I'll grow a beard I'm not going to shave for a month. But you must, sir. Archibald, what's got into you? I do wish, sir, that you wouldn't call me Archibald. As I told you, sir, when I entered your service, I detest the name Archibald.

My name is Archie. And I wish, Archibald, that you'd go away and let me sleep. I detest alarm clocks, and I'm beginning to detest you. Surely, sir, you don't want to entertain a lady with that ghastly stubble on your chin, especially your fiancée. What's my fiancée got to do with it? She's in Florida. Oh, no, sir. Miss Southwood phoned a few minutes ago. Frances phoned? Well, why didn't she say so? I hadn't as yet had the opportunity to do so, sir.

She said she'd be here in 30 minutes. Here in 30 minutes? Yes, sir. Just my luck, and I was all set to go on a hunting trip tomorrow. Oh, I didn't realize that you didn't wish to see her, sir. Shall I refuse her entrance, sir? Shall you what? Shall I turn her away, sir? Of course not, you dope. Where's my robe?

Here, sir. If you'll just sit over here, I'll shave you in no time. I have everything ready. Archie, I apologize. I'll never call you Archibald again. You're a lifesaver. Thank you, sir. Now, just sit here, sir. I wonder what brought Frances back. She didn't say, sir. Now, if you'll just turn your head so wet, I'll lather your face. We're in the middle of a season, too. I think...

Oh, God, Archie, you put the shaving soap in my mouth. I'm sorry, sir. You keep your mouth closed, it won't happen again. Oh, Glenn, darling, I'm so glad to see you. Kiss me again. What is it, Archibald? Shall I bring some coffee, Mr. Winthrop? Mm-hmm.

Darling, I'm afraid Archie doesn't approve of romance before breakfast. Well, he'll just have to approve. After we're married, I'm sure I shall insist upon being kissed before breakfast. Shall I bring the coffee, sir? Oh, yes, by all means, Archibald, bring the coffee. Thank you, sir.

Your valet is sort of weird, darling. Oh, he's all right. He's fussy about his name, that's all. I don't think he liked it when you called him Marchabald. But you just called him that yourself. I always do when I'm annoyed with him. And you were annoyed with him just now? When anyone interrupts the most beautiful woman in the land and the best actress just when she's about to kiss me, why shouldn't I be annoyed? Oh.

Oh, you're crazy, but I love it. Oh, tell me, darling, what brings you back to the city so soon? When your show closed last week, you told me you were going away for a month. I got a wire from Robert that I must be at my uncle's house tonight. In that gloomy old ruin out in the suburbs? But why? I thought that house was closed after your uncle died. It was, but Robert stayed on there. Who's Robert? He was Uncle Ned's confidential secretary. He had charge of all my uncle's affairs. He and my cousin Irma nursed Uncle during his last illness.

Robert wired that it was urgent that I come to the house tonight. Irma's to be there, too. Be taken care of by mail? I don't know what it is, but Robert's wire states that if I helped to participate in Uncle's estate, I had to be there tonight.

Anyway, there's something funny about the way Uncle died. I almost think sometimes that it was murder. That sounds like the beginning of one of my mystery stories. I know. I dread going out there. The place has always made me so uneasy. That's why I want you to come with me. Ah, I see. I just spent three months writing a book about a spooky old house. Now I have to visit one. And me on my vacation. The End

Is this the place, mister? Yeah, this is it. Oh, thanks, mister. Yeah. Gosh, what a spooky time. You wouldn't catch me going into a place like that. Are you hinting for an invitation? Oh, no, not me, buddy. Well, tastes differ. Be seeing you, cabbie. I hope so, but I ain't holding my breath. Cab driver gives me the creeps the way he said he hoped so when you told him you'd be seeing him. Oh, he was just kidding. This is a spooky looking place.

Why'd your uncle with all his dough want to live in a house way back from the street like that? He built the wall all around the ground so he'd have privacy. Well, he might as well have lost himself in the jungle. Here's the gate. Watch out you don't stumble, Fran.

Gee, it's sure dark around this place. What was that? It's just a hoodall, darling. We're really in the jungle. But don't let it get on your nerves. But it is scary. After that gate shuts us off from the street, we might as well be in another world. Say, by the way, is there a dog here? Oh, yes. Yes, Uncle's dog, Hamlet. Hamlet.

Robert kept him after Uncle died. He's a Great Dane. Hamlet. Hamlet, I mean, not Robert. That's not so good. Well, why? Don't you like Great Danes? I don't mind them in the daylight, but I certainly don't fancy a young elephant jumping on me in the dark. Oh, Hamlet won't hurt us. He knows me. Yeah, but he doesn't know me. I can't understand, though, why he hasn't barked. He usually raises the roof when anyone comes to the grounds at night.

Look, look, Glenn. There by the tree in the porch, there's a huge dark shadow and something white. Oh, Glenn, let's get out of here. No, no, wait a minute. I'm going to see what it is. No, no, darling, don't. Come out of there, whoever you are. Is that you, Mr. Winthrop? Archie. Yes, sir.

When Miss Southwood screamed, it nearly scared the wits out of me. Well, Archie, I can't say that your sudden appearance was a sedative to our nerves. That outlandish creature seems to be a bird, sir. It's been roosting over my head ever since I got here. Incidentally, Archie, what are you doing here anyway? Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. It quite slipped my mind in my discomposure.

You see, sir, after you and Miss Southwood left for dinner, I discovered an appalling thing. A terrible oversight. What is it? I hope you'll forgive me, sir. But when you were dressing, I was guilty of a terrible bit of negligence. Well, Archie, what is it? It was an oversight, sir, and I'm terribly sorry. I didn't know where you were dining, so I came out here to meet you. Here, Archie, what are you talking about? Oh, it's horrible, sir. I let you come out in public without a handkerchief in your breast pocket. And here it is, sir. Well...

I'll forgive you this time, Archie. Just so you don't let me go out in public someday without my pants. Oh, no, sir. Come on, Glenn. Let's go inside. The dark yard frightens me. That house looks just as dark.

Are you sure Robert said he'd meet you here? Yes, I'm sure. Look, look, there's a light, that window at the side. That used to be Uncle's den. I beg pardon, sir. What is it, Archie? I was wondering, sir, if you'd mind walking to the gate with me. It seems that the nocturnal aspect of this place appalls me. I feel that my nervous system has been sadly deranged. You may as well come in with us, Archie. We shan't be here long.

I hope. Miss Southworth is planning to fly back to Florida tomorrow, and I want to start on that hunting trip. God! I almost fell down confounded. Somebody left a rolled-up rug or something on that porch.

Why can't they have lights on when they're expecting company? Well, there never was any furniture on the porch when Uncle was alive. Where in blazes is that bell? There isn't a bell, dear. Uncle could never stand bells ringing. He wouldn't even have a telephone for that reason. Here, the big door knocker. Well, let's see how this contraption works. I've got it. Oh, echoes through the house like the crack of doom. You suppose there's anybody there? Well, I'm sure I saw a light in the den. Knock again. Okay. Knock again.

It is silent as a mausoleum, sir. Archibald, your choice of words is unfortunate under the circumstances, but you're right. Fran, I think someone's been playing a practical joke on you. Bringing me out to this gloomy old house when there's nobody here isn't my idea of a joke. That isn't funny. Practical jokes rarely are. I beg pardon, sir, but there seems to be someone with a candle moving around inside. Good evening, Miss Frances.

You're a little early. Good evening, Robert. This is my fiancé, Mr. Winthrop. Good evening. Good evening. Why the candle? What's happened to the electric lights? A fuse blew out, Miss Francis, and I had no spare. We'll have to make out with candles tonight.

Who is this other gentleman? Oh, I'm sorry. This is Smithers, Mr. Winthrop's man. Great Scott, Archie. What's the matter with you? You're shaking like a leaf. Look, sir. There on the porch. That's what you stumbled over. Hold the light higher, will you, Robert, please? Thanks. It's a dog. It's Hamlet. No wonder he didn't bark at us. He's...

He's dead. There's not a mark on him. Wonder what happened to him. The dog grieved for his master. Probably died of grief. He was very old. No, no. Glenn, Glenn, I'm frightened. There's menace in the air here tonight. I can feel it. Something terrible will happen here tonight. Midnight.

I wonder where Irma is. She's probably coming with Dr. Blade. Perhaps he's been detained on a call. Dr. Blade? You mean young Dick Blade, Uncle's doctor? Why is he coming? Irma's been working in his office since your uncle died. He promised to bring her.

I never liked Dick Blade. He's been very kind to Irma. Yes, probably feathering his nest. Probably wants to marry her for her share of Uncle's fortune. Perhaps if you had been your uncle's nurse instead of Irma, you might feel differently about Dr. Blade. Oh, I'm sorry, Robert. That was a terrible thing to say. I'm not myself tonight. This place gives me the creeps.

It almost seems that uncle is here tonight reproaching me because I wasn't with him when he died. I'm sure your uncle understood that you would have been with him had it been possible. You were very thoughtful. You sent fruit and flowers nearly every day. Fruit and flowers. It meant nothing. Oh, I should have left the show and come here. Your uncle wouldn't have wanted that. He was proud of your career. Oh, why doesn't Irma come?

It was just a month ago tonight that he died. At one o'clock, it's just an hour from... Why, Miss Francis, you're shivering. Are you cold? No, no, I was just listening to that wind. It has an eerie sound. It's been a sultry day. Probably a storm brewing. What was that? I didn't hear anything. Listen...

You're upset, my dear. I heard nothing. But I tell you, I heard something. It was the sound of something banging, like someone pounding on the wall. There it is again. Miss Francis, you're overwrought. You're imagining things. I must have Dr. Blade prescribe something for me. No, no, no. I don't trust that man. Ah!

Hello, darling. Sorry I scared you. Oh, Glenn, where have you been? Archie and I were moving Hamlet's body so your cousin wouldn't get a scare when she arrived. Oh, by the way, Robert, Smithers is out in the hall. If you'll be so kind as to show us where we can wash up. No, no, don't leave me, Glenn. Why, Frances, what's wrong? I don't know. I just don't want to be left alone. All right, I'll stay. I'll show Smithers the way upstairs. Thanks. Thanks.

Oh, darling, I'm so glad you came back when you did that. That man gives me the creeps. Oh, Robert? Yeah, he is sort of strange. I suppose it's just his way. Gee, you're sort of nervous. I've never seen you like this before. Oh, that wind. That unearthly screeching wind. It...

It's almost as though Uncle were trying to speak to me from his grave. Oh, see here, young lady. You've got to get a grip on yourself. You mustn't go to pieces this way. If only Irma would come, then we could get this business of Robert's over with and go home. I thought you said that your uncle never had a phone. Gave me a start, too. I guess I'm developing your nerves. Oh, all right, all right. I'm coming.

Well, where is the confounded thing? It's over in this corner somewhere, but I can't find it. Oh, I'm sure it is in the wastebasket. That's a fine place to keep a phone. Hello? Hello? Hello? That's funny. Did they hang up? Oh, that's the funny part of it. There wasn't even a dial tone. The line's dead.

Oh, Glenn, darling, take me out of here. There's something horrible going on in this place. I'm beginning to agree with you. There's something mighty funny about a phone hidden in a wastebasket ringing when the lion is dead. And Hamlet. I'm sure somebody killed him. There wasn't a mark on the dog's body. It could have been poisoned. Yes, that's true. Did Robert tell you why he sent for you to come here tonight? He said we'd have to wait until Irma got here.

She and I are Uncle's only surviving relatives, and it has something to do with the will. Robert drew it up, you know. Yeah, but why should your Uncle's secretary draw up his will? Why not a lawyer? Robert was more than Uncle's secretary. He was an old friend. He gave up his law practice to handle Uncle's affairs. You know, Frances, this is all very strange. I feel as though I'm living in the pages of one of my own crazy books. I've written this story a dozen times myself.

Your man will be down in a minute, Mr. Winthrop. Thanks, Robert. Robert, when did you have a phone installed in this house? Phone? Yes. A little while ago, a phone rang. Oh. I had trouble locating it, but finally found it in the wastebasket. When I answered, the line was dead. It did seem rather strange. I had the phone put in shortly after your uncle's death, Miss Francis. I was working at the desk today and remember putting it in the basket to clear the desktop.

As to the line being dead, are you sure of that, Mr. Winthrop? Quite sure. Try it yourself. Oh, that's probably Irma. Excuse me, I'll let her in. You know, Francis, I believe you're right. There is something fishy about that man. That strange, gliding walk. That flat voice. And that pale face. Glenn, he looks like a dead man.

So you're Glenn. Dear Francis has told me so much about you. Never mind trying to make a play for him, dear. He's mine. Oh, you talk, Francis.

Well, Robert, suppose we get down to business. Dick and I want to get back to town. Phew, we had a wet trip out. It's pouring in town. Bad storm. I tried to call you, but couldn't get you. Saw the reason later. There's a tree down right across the telephone line. Must have fallen while you were calling. The phone rang, but when I answered, the line was dead. Oh, don't talk about dead things. This house always gives me the willies.

I don't see, Robert, why we had to come out here. Why couldn't we meet in town? This really concerns only Miss Irma and Miss Frances. But the rest of you may as well hear it. You know, of course, that I drew up your uncle's will. Yes, of course. And you know, too, that for some time before his death, your uncle was interested in... in spiritualism. Yes. It always gave me the creeps to hear him talk about it. Well, your uncle's will contained a strange clause...

I, as executive, was instructed to request his heirs to be present here tonight, exactly one month after his death. Cute little idea, Uncle Had. Did he order a storm, too? Please, Miss Irma. I was further instructed to inform you of the terms of his will. I'll read it. Oh, skip all the legal stuff. Just tell us how it affects us. Very well.

Aside from some minor bequests, the bulk of the property is to be divided between you two girls. And you hauled us out here to hear that? Wait, Miss Irma. Let me read the paragraph which refers to your inheritance. In the event that at exactly one month from the hour of my death, my two nieces, Frances and Irma, are living and unmarried...

and in the event they have not been involved in any scandal that would besmirch the name of Southworth, the residue of my estate shall be divided equally between them. But should either of my nieces fail in these conditions, said niece shall forfeit her inheritance, and the entire estate shall go to my niece who fulfills said conditions. - Should both nieces fail... - Oh, no need to read the rest of it. We're both alive, we've been in no scandals, and I'm certainly not married.

How about you, Francis? Of course not. Then that's that. Come on, Dick, let's start back to town. One moment. Your uncle specified that both Francis and Irma should be here in this house at exactly one month from the time of his death. He died at 1 a.m. one month ago. We've still half an hour to wait.

The conditions of the will are not effective till 1 a.m. Well, that's pretty silly. Neither of the girls is going to die or get into a scandal in half an hour. Well, as a doctor, I grant you that marriage or scandal are unlikely, but who can be sure about death? Ten minutes of one.

Now we must fulfill the final conditions of the will. What do you mean, final conditions? I will explain. Your uncle's interest in spiritualism prompted one other request. We are all to sit around this table. Miss Irma, sit here beside me. Dr. Blade on my other side. Very well. Thank you. Miss Francis, next to Dr. Blade. Mr. Winthrop and Smithers at the foot of the table. Thank you. Good.

Now I am instructed to place this loaded revolver on the table in front of me. So. What's this all about? At exactly one o'clock, the hour of his death, your uncle will endeavor to speak to us from the grave. Oh, this is so silly. If you wish to forfeit your inheritance, you may withdraw. Oh, not on your life. You will note that a fire is laid in the grate. If your uncle succeeds in returning to us...

He will light that fire. Must we go through with this ridiculous farce, Robert? You have heard the terms of your uncle's will. Oh, that's a lot of tummy rot. Perhaps. But it was your uncle's wish. I intend to carry out his wishes. Oh, all right. Get on with it, then. Now, each one clasp his neighbor's hand. All right? Yes. Then our circle is complete. I will now blow out the candle.

That clock. That monotonous clock. Tick, tick, tick. It's driving me crazy. Your uncle was very fond of that clock. Well, I don't like it. It must be nearly one. We must be quiet. I tell you, I can't stand this. Quiet, please. Robert. Robert. Yes? You have done well. Is that you, Mr. Southworth? On earth, that was my name. Now I have no name.

I cannot free myself from Earth until my work is done. Your work? What is your work? Vengeance. Only one here need fear me. The one who murdered me. Murdered? Yes, with a slow poison. One of you murdered me, Robert. You brought me whiskey. Was the poison in that? Or was it in the medicine Dr. Blade gave me? Francis...

You sent me the fruit nearly every day. Was it the fruit of death? No. You cooked my food. One of you murdered me. It wasn't I, I tell you. I didn't do it. No.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is Jerry Marshall speaking. We take time out now, in fact, 60 seconds time, to allow you amateur detectives to solve the mystery of tonight's story. To help you along with the solution, here are a few leading or misleading clues. First, is there anything that Robert said that might shed light on his innocence or guilt? The dog grieved for his master, probably died of grief.

He was very old. Now, how about Dr. Blade? Do you recall him saying... Well, as a doctor, I grant that marriage or scandal are unlikely. But who can be sure about... Then there is Francis, a very definite heir to Uncle Sheckles. There's menace in the air here tonight. I can feel it. Terrible will happen here tonight. Or could it have been Irma who was heard to say... Must we go through with this ridiculous farce, Robert?

Well, the 60 seconds are up. Do you think you have the answer? All right. Hold on to it. And we'll return to our play and see if you're right. It wasn't I. I tell you, I didn't do it. Ned, Ned, don't you know who killed you? I do not know. But I have ways of learning. At the stroke of one, I will light that fire in the fireplace.

And the finger of death will touch my murderer. The flame will sear into the treacherous brain that planned my death. Robert, Robert, light that candle. Quiet. Tell me, Ned, who killed you? I can't tell you. But in a moment, you will know. In a moment, the finger of death will touch the guilty one. There is a gun on the table. That is the only chance for the murderer. That is the only escape from eternal suffering.

That is the only expiation. No, no. The finger of death is approaching. Confess your crime. Confess your crime. You murdered me. Confess. Confess before it's too late. The hour is at hand. Confess. Look, the fire is lit. The finger of death is upon you. I did it. I killed him. I hated him. Robert, quick, the lights. Oh, it's Irma. Doctor, is she? Yes, she's...

We felt for a long time that his death was not natural. And so Dick Blade and I got an exhumation order... and Dick found signs of poison in the body. We suspected both of you, Miss Francis. It had to be either you or Miss Irma. So we set the stage for our ghost. The banging shutter, the candlelight, the seance...

It was all staged. But Hamlet... Well, the dog died this afternoon. I put the body on the porch. Oh, and the fire lighting itself? Dick released my hand and I set off a charge of flashlight powder. What about the ghost voice? That was Dick. We planned to scare a confession from the guilty one. And it worked.

Poor Irma. It's horrible. It's better the way it happened. Won't there be legal complications and publicity about all this? After all, Irma committed a murder and then committed suicide. No, the police have informed me that no one need remain for questioning. No charges will be pressed. There will be no publicity. In fact, an inspector from the homicide squad was present in the west room. It was he who removed the body. Oh, Glenn. I'll be so happy to get out of this awful house.

Listen, darling, I'm not going to go back to Florida. Let's get married tomorrow. Frances, you darling, of course. I beg your pardon, sir. What is it, Archie? Mr. Winthrop, sir, speaking of tomorrow, have you considered you were going on a hunting trip? Speaking of murder, have you considered what a swell corpse you'd make, Archibald? Please, don't call me Archibald, sir.

We have brought you the 13th of a series of mystery stories. Tonight's drama, Speaking of Murder, was written by Don Thompson and directed by Milton Bernard Kaye. The cast featured Casey Allen, Eleonora Reed, Leonard Scherer, Jason Johnson, Eileen Court, and Meryl E. Jowles. Musical settings were by Kaye Reed. This is Jerry Marshall speaking and saying goodnight for Isn't It a Crime?

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At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress from my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. Truth is stranger than fiction. And this is the proof. This is Ripley's Believe It or Not. Pressure Mills of the New Forest, England caught 3,186 venomous snakes in 14 years with his bare hands. He was so skilled that he was never bitten. Believe it or not.

In a moment, I'll tell you the story of the sad chateau. The Chateau of Montal in France was built as a surprise for Robert de Balzac by his mother in the year 1534. However, it has inscribed on one wall, there is no hope left.

The reason for this sad inscription is that just as the castle was completed, Mrs. Jeanne de Balzac received the tragic news that her son had been slain in battle nine years earlier. Believe it or not.

The Adventures of the Saints, starring Vincent Price. The Adventures of the Saints

The Saint, based on characters created by Leslie Travers and known to millions from books, magazines, and motion pictures. The Robin Hood of modern crime now comes transcribed to radio, starring Hollywood's brilliant and talented actor Vincent Price as... The Saint. Snow sports. Who likes ski trains?

I'd rather have an old-fashioned. Mountains, I should have stood. Hello. On the other hand, perhaps not. Hello. The seat next to you isn't taken. I admire intelligent women. Sit down. All right.

But I'm not intelligent. Oh, you're being modest. I am not. Oh, I'm sorry. You are beautiful, though. I bet you say that to all the beautiful girls you meet. Do you like to ski? No. Then why are you on the ski train? Because of the telegram you sent me. Then you are Simon Templer.

I kind of thought you looked like one. Thank you. Your telegram sounded desperate. What do you want me to do? A very small favor. Yes? I'd like you to be my husband. What? Are you married? No, but I... Well, then nobody will mind if you're my husband for a while. Nobody will mind. Look, Peggy... I said only for a while. None of my husbands was ever able to say I stayed my welcome. None of your... Peggy, how many husbands have you had?

I have a terrible memory. I do remember a Smith and a Jones, though. Of course, they're easy names. Yeah. Look, may I ask you why you want me to be your husband? So nobody will murder me. You see, if Charlie thinks I'm married to the saint, he'll think twice before beating my brains out, which would be the neatest trick of the year, he said, on account of I don't have any brains. I'm quoting Charlie. Who is Charlie? He's in the car up ahead.

With the blonde. Oh, oh. He's a friend of yours? Oh, no. He used to be my last husband. I mean, he was my husband last. I think I understand. And why should he want to kill you? Alimony.

Did you get from him? It doesn't seem much of a motive. It's a lot of alimony. Also, he doesn't like my following him around. You follow him around? Why? To make sure Vicki doesn't kill him. Vicki? That's the blonde. She married Charlie, asked me. And she wants to kill him. Well, who wouldn't?

Besides, she doesn't even like him, but she's crazy about money. And if she kills him, she'll get all the money. And I won't get any alimony. So... I know a girl isn't supposed to be forward and ask a man to be her husband. Anyway, not the first time they meet. After all, this is a matter of a life and death. So... So? Simon...

Will you be mine? Yep, here's Snow Valley. Out we go. Oh, Simon, look. All the taxi cabs are slaves. So they are. Climb right in, folks. Oh, thank you. Come on, Peggy. Peggy.

Where to? We're going to... The Snowtop Hotel. Snowtop Hotel. Yep. It's a nice lobby. I'd better go register and... Register? Register?

Look, Peggy, let's pretend we're not married. I mean, let's not pretend we're married to the hotel clerk. I'd never marry a hotel clerk. Peggy, I didn't mean... Never mind. Charlie and Vicki must have gone upstairs already. You think they were on a honeymoon? Don't finish that sentence. I'm going to register. I'll get separate rooms for us. Oh, but Simon, is that friendly? It's practical. Excuse me, Peggy.

Oh, my gorgeous. Sergey! At last you're coming to me. What are you doing here? Oh, sculpting like anything. Even snowmen I'm sculpting. But for right now I'm making a bust, Vicky. From what anybody can see of Vicky, you'll be busy all winter, Sergey. But... I'm having now the studio in the woods.

Are you wishing I make you a bust also? I'm going to be too busy to be sculptured. Who's a sculptor? Oh, Peggy, don't say that. All my life I'm dying for you. You look fine. Pagliacci. Huh? Riddipagliacci. You know, laughing, clan, laughing. That's all. Oh, well, I'll think about it. What's to think, Peggy? It's necessary to live. Look, Sergei, I'm married again.

No. His name is Simon. Why don't minding the husbands? The husbands might be minding you. Oh, my beautiful. What I'm doing with mine chisels is not the business of any... Charlie doesn't mind your sculpting? A sculpt... sculpt... making a bar still picky? No. No.

She's not so beautiful like you. Also, I'm not admiring this Charlie. Oh, Sergei! Vicki's calling you. I go, but my heart stays with you. You better not leave it here. Somebody might step on it. Oh. Peggy, who on earth was that? Oh, that was Sergei Popov, Simon. I don't believe it. Well, it happens in Bulgaria all the time. That's where he comes from. He's got a studio out in the woods and he's making a bust of Vicki.

He tries to do that with all of Charlie's wives. I never heard of him before. Oh, you must have. He's a very famous chiseler. Peggy, I've got us a couple of rooms. Yours is 218. We can pretend we're married for your husband's former benefit. The clerk will show you up to your room in a minute. What are you going to do? I'm going to find the bar and drink myself to death. Oh.

216. 217. Ah, here we are. 218. Thanks, Mr. Clerk. Um, which room do the Thompsons have? Room right next to yours, ma'am. If you need anything... Thank you. You're very welcome. Coming, Simon. Simon, where are you? Hiding behind the door? Ah!

Peggy. Peggy. Peggy, what are you doing on the floor? There was an earthquake. And the hotel fell down and hit me on the head and I'm dead. Oh, come on. Now let me help you up. I'll put you on the couch. There. Peggy.

And now you can go right back and get my head. You're left it on the floor. Your head's where it belongs. Seems to be a little too much of it, though. It's where the hotel hit me. Oh, but this isn't the earthquake season. What happened? Well, somebody knocked at the door just after I got here. That would be about an hour ago. Go on. I stuck my head out and boomed. Who boomed you? I didn't see him. Do you want to boom him back? I might enjoy it, but...

Peggy, do you have anything worth stealing? Simon, you can believe me. Who steals my purse steals trash. Besides, your purse wasn't stolen. It's right here on the table. Strange. I'm hungry, Simon. I think getting hit on the head is good for my appetite. It may not be good for your head, especially if the next time you get hit a little harder. THE END

How does your head feel now? Like it's beginning to belong to me. Eat some more steak. Simon, are you trying to fatten me up? Of course not. Because Papa, I mean, he's a sculptor, you know. Yeah. Well, he's crazy about my figures. So am I. And he hasn't even married to me. Look, neither am I. You don't have to shout. Even though I did throw myself at your head, it doesn't mean I have to have a figure like a flower's hat. I didn't say that. Good evening. Good evening. Good evening.

Simon, this is Sergei. Pop off. No, no, I stay here. That's a joke. That's debatable. Oh, my beautiful. This one sounds like a husband. Well, yes, he's my husband. His name is Simon. He's your husband. Oh, don't apologize. It also is not necessary standing up. I'm being courteous, and I'm not inviting you to sit down.

This is a way to treat great sculpture like myself? I, who are the Michelangelo of right now? There's one thing you unquestionably have in common with Michelangelo. My genius? Your fingernails. They're dirty. I am insulted. Also, I see Vicky's coming in. Vicky? Oh, Vicky. Yes, so she is. Where's her husband? He doesn't come in week. Oh, why not? Who cares? Who cares?

Maybe perhaps he's suffering from dieselpepsic. I should dearly love to see a man suffering from dieselpepsic. Something he'd no doubt, you know. Oh, Vicky, she's coming in. Yes, I've been noticing. Well, sorry about that. Oh, Sergei. Sergei, my love, you've been waiting long. And who is this lovely man? These lovely people you're with. Well, she is Peggy. He's her husband. Hi, how do you do? My name is Templin. I'm Vicky Thompson. You've lost something, haven't you, darling? Oh, have I?

Your husband? Well, what do you... I've seen you someplace before. Uh-huh. Where? In Charlie's photograph album. Oh, you're not... I am, darling. Charlie's former wife.

And I know all about the long winter evenings when Charlie shows his photograph album to his wife. Sergei, I don't think we'd better bother these nice people any longer. Let's go have our dinner. But, Vicky... Have you seen Charlie? No. I see. Well, come along, Sergei. Confidential. I do not understand Vicky. Oh, why not? She's worrying about her husband. Ridiculous.

I'm seeing you sooner, huh? Not if I'm seeing you sooner. Simon, did you notice Vicki? Yes, I did. She does that to people.

But what I meant was she turned pale as soon as I mentioned Charlie to her. So she did. Which reminds me, where is Charlie? Oh, it's so pretty out here. Mmm, very high-type snow. Of course, none of my former husbands ever took me for a walk on a honeymoon. But I don't mind. Good.

It's funny Charlie didn't show up all through dinner. Simon? Yeah? Would you mind not discussing other people? Let's discuss us. Well, hey. Huh? What happened to that snowman? Snowman?

Oh, he must have melted. He was right there on the side of the road. He didn't melt, Peggy, because it gets colder, not warmer in the nighttime. I wouldn't say that. Peggy, be still. The snow is completely flat where the snowman was. And sleigh marks right next to the spots.

I'm cold, Simon. Why are you more interested in that snowman than you are in me? Thought he had a kind face. Come on, Peggy, let's go back to the hotel and get warm. Come on.

I'm going right to my room. I'll take you up. Oh, Simon. I want to make sure nobody hits you on the head again. Oh. Yeah, but before I do, you know, I'm a little worried about Charlie. Charlie?

Perhaps... Oh, clerk. Yes, sir? Have you seen Mr. Thompson around? Mr. Thompson? Oh, yes. Oh, no. Oh, yes. Oh, no. What? I was merely remarking that I know who Mr. Thompson is and I have not seen him around. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Thompson was asking about him, too. I see. Thank you.

That's all. What is? Things seem to be disappearing around here. The snowman, Charlie Thompson. Peggy, we're not going upstairs. We're going out again to look for... Charlie? No. The snowman. Simon, any resemblance between me and an Eskimo is no coincidence. It's a lie.

I'm freezing. We've been all over town looking for that darn thing. There's only a little more ground to cover. We've worked our way around to the back of the hotel. I know, but... But Simon, finding a snowman in the middle of all this snow...

It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. The difficulty of that has always been overrated. There's an easy way of finding a needle in a haystack. How? You just sit down on the haystack. That's the end. What? See what I just said, Simon? It was a joke. Yeah, let's keep the conversation on a higher level. Simon. What?

Straight ahead, near those trees. There he is! Yeah. Doesn't seem to have been damaged much. He's frozen solid. We're about 100 yards from the hotel. Maybe we should have a woodpile here.

which is just what we need, some nice dry wood. I need a nice hot bath. What good is wood? It burns. I'm going to build a fire. Oh, I appreciate your worrying about me, Simon, but it would be even warmer in the hotel. I'm not building the fire for warmth. I'm building it because I want to give that snowman a hot foot. The End

Simon, that's a very pretty fire, but why do you keep staring at that snowman? Oh, I'm waiting for it to melt. Now, that isn't a nice thing to do to say, Giz, look. It's begun to melt already. Oh, Simon. Yeah, yeah. Now we know why the snowman was moved, don't we? That's Charlie. He was in the snowman. Oh, Simon, is he dead? Yeah, he's very dead.

Somebody beat his head in. The sheriff will be over in a little while, Peggy. As soon as he gets his galoshes on. I hate to think of Charlie lying out there in the snow. He was never an outdoor man. No, Peggy.

Maybe you'd better run upstairs to your room. It's just that I wanted to get over to Sergei's studio before the sheriff gets there. You think Sergei killed Charlie and put him in the snowman? It's possible. Charlie's death makes Vicki a very rich widow. Sergei might approve of that. I'd

I'd like to ask. I'll go with you. No, Peggy. A wife's place is at her husband's side. It looks still weird now. Another word and I'll marry you right out here in the lobby. Never mind. Let's go get ourselves a sleigh.

This here is the studio, folks. Oh. Peggy, why don't you stay out here in this lane? You don't think all these sculptures have fiends inside them? No, but it might be dangerous. I'm coming with you. You don't mind if I come, too? It's a little dark out here. Oh, no, we'd love having you. Come on. Okay. Oh, the studio looks like a...

The hunting log. Yeah, the Prince of Grouse Dog should be inside, but he won't be. Look, the window's three-fourths covered with snow. He ain't answering too quick. Uh-uh. The door's open. Come on. Oh, it's so dark. Wait a minute. I'll find the lights. What? Get down, Peggy. The shot's coming from that window. Say, what's going on here? It's too silent. All right. Keep going.

Hey, that's my sleigh. That was your sleigh. Somebody please shut the door. It's so cold. All right. Now, what are we going to do? We'll phone town. If there's a phone. Anyone see one? No, they don't have lines strung out in these woods. Oh, that's fine. Look what I found. Huh? Oh. It's a wallet. Oh.

Not much help, no identification in it. But Simon, it's the kind Charlie always carried, with lots and lots of money in it. Yeah, perhaps, but it's empty now. It could just as well be Sergei's. Sergei carries a purse, Simon. Now you mention it, Charlie's wallet was missing when we found it. Ain't missing anymore. I wonder if any spare socks are going to turn up. Spare socks? Charlie Thompson was wearing one red sock and one green one. Somebody may have walked off with a mate to one of them.

Well, come on, everybody. Let's start walking. It's going to take us about a week to walk back to the hotel. The snow's kind of deep out there. And Sergei may not be back for hours or months. Simon, there are a couple of pairs of skis in the corner near the door. Yeah. They're very decorative. People go from place to place on skis. Sure, sure. People who can ski. I once read a book, Simon. It said skiing is really very simple. It did? Yeah.

Don't look at me. I ain't getting on them wooden death traps. All right. You stay here. We'll send for you. You mind? Don't mind at all. Hey, Peggy, now, look, I'll help you get those skis strapped on. I hope it's downhill all the way.

Simon! You're such a liar. You speak beautifully. You know, this is wonderful. It's just like flying. Yeah, so long as you stay on your feet. Simon, I'm hungry. Hungry? Well, when we get back to town... And you know what I'd like? What? A salami sandwich. Peggy, people get shot for jokes like... I'll take it back if you'll ever be so mean! Get down, get down.

Shots came from the clump of trees down the slope. Hey, Peggy, do you know what bad little boys do? This is the time. But if we can get under the snow here and get to some rocks... Of course. Make snowballs with rocks. Yeah, he can't get us unless he gets a lot closer. Oh, dear. I can't see what is. He's moving in. We'll have to come out into the open. Okay, I've got one ready. All right, now. He's moving out towards us.

Here goes. Simon, you hit him. Now for the next. You hit him again. Oh, Simon. Now I know I'll be found at Bunker Hill. Oh.

Gosh, I'm so glad to get back to the hotel. Oh, uh, Mr. Templer. Oh, yeah? The sheriff said he wanted to see you as soon as you came in. He's in the manager's office, to your left. Thank you. Uh, would you send someone out to Mr. Popoff's studio? He's left a slave driver standing there. I'll take care of it, sir. Thanks. Simon, do you know who killed Charlie and Charlie? Well, I'm not sure, but I think it isn't going to take much longer to find out. Come in.

Hello, Sheriff. I'm Simon Templer. I know, Mr. Templer. The same. This is a great pleasure. Thank you. And this is Peggy Smith, Jones, and so forth. Glad to meet you. My name's Hudson. Got a statement from Mrs. Thompson, the sculptor fellow, Mr. Templer. I thought you might have something to add. Yes, I have. It might be better if you got them in here, though, and we cleaned up the whole thing at once. Oh, they're right in the next room. Hold on. Hmm.

Would you mind stepping in here, folks? Oh, I am disgusting. Is this the way to spend the evening? I'm going to be a lawyer, maybe several lawyers. Mrs. Thompson. Yes? When your husband arrived at the hotel, what was the first thing he did? Well, he said he was going to take a shower. I left him upstairs. I see. Excuse me a minute. Desk? Oh, clerk, will you get me a sprig of holly with berries on it? I noticed a florist shop in the lobby.

No, I know it isn't Christmas yet. No, it's not for a gag. It's for a noose.

Confidential, everybody. This Simon is crazy. For mistletoes, he's not sending. I kissed a girl under a mistletoe once. Ah, no different. Oh, come in. Here you are, Mr. Templer. Oh, thank you. Would you please hand me that vase on the table? Certainly. Thank you again.

It's a very nice sprig of... Ah, the berries are green. Now, why? Why, hello. Ah, just a minute, Peggy. Look, Clark, when a man wants a sprig of Hollywood berries, he wants red berries. Now, you go right out and get me what I want. I...

Well, I'm sorry about the berries being green. I guess they aren't ripe yet. I'll go right now. Oh, no, excuse my boss. Simon, you broke the ball. He's also breaking the head of the clerk. Mr. Templer, why did you... I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't try playing games with his gun, Sheriff. Gun? Yes, Peggy, the one he tried to kill us with. But if he was the one who...

Then he must have been the one who... Who killed Thompson. He is. But why? Now, what reason would he have to kill Charlie? I think he'll tell us. He seems to be with us again. Good evening. I hope you slept well. Now, listen, you. You listen. Sit down. Thank you, Sheriff. Charlie Thompson was killed in his shower. Then he was dressed, dragged out of the hotel, and planted inside the snowman. That's why you moved the snowman, wasn't it?

So that you wouldn't have to carry the body so great a distance. I never touched Charlie Thompson. Yet I know you did. How, Templer? Thompson's corpse was wearing one red sock and one green. It meant whoever had dressed him was... Colorblind! Yes, and the business with the holly proved that. The berries were really red, but when I told our friend here that they were green, he had to take my word for it. He couldn't tell the difference. Why? Why, you evil man!

Simon, he must have been the one who hit me over the head in my room. That's why I knew Mrs. Thompson hadn't killed her husband. What do you mean? You wouldn't have had to hit Peggy over the head in order to get into your husband's room. And I couldn't suspect Mr. Popoff. Why not? Some of my best friends are suspecting me.

Because you would never have left Thompson's empty wallet in your own studio. It was the clerk, Peggy and I, surprised planting it there. After, of course, he had taken all the money out of it. That's why Thompson was killed, Mr. Popov. He always carried lots and lots of money in his wallet. Peggy supplied that information. You mean this clerk, he tried to frame me so I am looking like a murderer? That he did. How do you like that? A man who tried to chisel on a chiseler?

Simon? Hmm? We're alone. Oh, yes, so we are. Simon, did you know that some people pronounce skis, sheesh? There must be a moral in that someplace. Or an immoral. Simon, we're not really married, but you could kiss me anyway. Hmm?

Nice, Simon. Very nice. You've been listening to another transcribed adventure of the saint, the Robin Hood of modern crime. Now here's our star. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Vincent Price inviting you to join us again next week at this same time for another exciting adventure of the saint. Good night.

Tonight's script was written by Louis Vities. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition.

Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience — burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important. At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge.

With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, it's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress for my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading.

Sam, say, Detective Agency. Me, sweetheart. Sam, what is the truth? I was just thinking of you. Me and who else? Both my ears were burning. No, Sam, no. With regards to our shortage of office supplies... Don't give it another thought, F. This was going to be a short report. Do you have any feelings, Sam? Hardly, Angel. In fact, fairly. Well, Sam, if you had asked me, I could have told you. That girl was nearly trying to stir up a tempest in her boyfriend's teapot. Again? It was perfectly observant to me, Sam, that

But she had sour grapes written all over her. Sour apples, Evie, but you're warm, and that's why I'm so fond of you. Oh, thank you, sir. I'm glad I could be of help, though I must confess the apples are over my head. Well, don't feel bad about it. That's how Newton discovered the law of gravity. Stay where you are. I'll be right down to dictate my report on the Apple of Eve, Taper. The Apple of Eve

Dasher Hammett, America's leading detective fiction writer and creator of Sam Say, the hard-boiled private eye, and William Sear, radio's outstanding producer-director of mystery and crime drama, join their talent to make your hair stand on end with the adventures of Sam Say.

Presented by the makers of Wild Root Cream Oil for the hair. And now, with Howard Duff starring as Spade, Wild Root brings to the air the greatest private detective of them all in The Adventures of Sam Spade. Oh, Sam. Come on in. Sure.

Why are you so nervous? Oh, nothing, nothing, really. I'm just glad to see you, dear. Oh, I'm glad to see you. That's all. Come on, out with it. What are you hiding behind your back? Well, it's a surprise, Sam. So you just run along into your office and I'll be right with you. Surprise, huh? Let me think. Father's Day? No. Surely not. Oh, no, Sam, no. It's just as regards our shortage of office supplies. Sam.

I hope you'll be able to mince your words. What's all that junk you got stuffed in between the pages of your notebook? Oh, well, Sam, you see, improvisation is a child of necessity. So, uh, to stretch our supplies, I just cut up some old bits of waste paper in case we run out of the genuine. Well, well, very ingenious. Shall we commence? Yes. But not too many corrections, Sam. I'm afraid this eyebrow pencil might not last. Well, don't bear down on it. Uh, where was I?

Okay, Sam. Uh, date, uh... I already have that, Sam. Oh, uh, this one goes to... Hey. Yes, Sam? The calendar. Where is it? Calendar? Which calendar, Sam? You know perfectly well which calendar. It's been hanging there on the wall for three years. The one from Harold's Club in Reno. Oh, that old calendar. It was out of date anyway, Sam. That calendar was timeless. It was not, Sam. It

It was bolder. That's a lie. I met the girl who posed for it. In more modest circumstances, I hope. Put it back. Now, Sam, don't. What did you do with that calendar? You must incite yourself, Sam. Let me see that notebook.

Uh-huh. Old waste paper indeed. An arch treasure mutilated and for what? To serve your own base purposes. Just because you were too absent-minded to order a few officer flies. But I frequently alluded to our dwindling resources, Sam.

But no, you were too proud. Take these and put them in a safe place. You can put it back together with scotch tape on your own time. But we're out of scotch tape, Sam. We've got a first aid kit, haven't we? Well, you don't. Use the adhesive. Date, June 19, 1949. I won't soon forget that. To Detective Lieutenant Dundee, Homicide Detail, San Francisco Police, Plum, Samuel Spade, License Number 137596,

Oh, subject the Apple of Eve, Kaper. Good. The start of it was yesterday when Eve Adams first walked into my office. She was angry and she was terribly, terribly hurt. In fact, she had a shiner, a swollen jaw, and somebody had bitten her on the arm. And furthermore, she had the audacity to suggest that there was something shady between I and Mr. Hagen when it is an item of public information...

that her and Goldhaven were both at practically before they started. And I might just add, in passing... Now, just a minute, Miss Adams. You say this girl came to your apartment on a jealous wage and attacked you without provocation. None whatsoever. I never opened my trap to her, except to remind her that it would have been a blessing to the human race if her old man had never met her old lady. And if she thought those three layers of pancake on her puss could fool a blind man at her true age...

And seeing as what her mouth was, she should never open it for fear of what might come out. I see. And the girl's name? Down at that flea bag where she works, she's spelled as Dreamer Love. And is she ever a nightmare? Dreamer Love. That's D-R-E-A-M-A? It says there. But I do not intend to take this episode lying down on my chin, Mrs. Faye.

Why, if it had not been for the timely arrival of my conciergy, that cheap mare would have brain me with my own gin bottle. I see. Landlady broke it up. And you say she threatened to return with a gun and blast you if you continued seeing Mr. Hagen? That is a fact. And she is just cheap enough to try some low trick like that.

Mm-hmm. And what do you want me to do, Miss Adams? I want you to take a formal call on that, Dane, and tell her that upon the very next occasion of any violence or threat thereof out of her, I'm going to yell, In fact, Mrs. Bates, I am placing my life and limbs in your hands, and if you are anything of what you're cracked up to be, you'll have no difficulty in giving that creepy crow the bum's rest straight out of my life. Oh!

Pardon me, Miss Adams. My secretary seems to be calling me. Out of my way. I know who's in there and I'm going in. Out of my way. Mrs. Stadister, keep it off. You should have hired the fourth Marine, dearie. Now, now, ladies. Ladies, please. Break it up. I'll show you who to get stuck with. You don't call on me, shall we? I'll let you have it. Now, now, ladies, please. Now, let's talk this over calmly and sensibly. Okay, you asked for it. Now, ladies. Please. Oh!

Sam, my son. You can't speak to me. Sam. Sam. Oh, no.

No, no, no, no. Don't hit me again. You're going to have the chills. Oh, then you put on. Hmm? Here. Here's a little bit. What is it? Tastes awful. Water, Sam. Oh, well.

Where'd they go? They chased each other down the hall. I thought you'd gone out. I did. What did she hit me with? She took a sack out of her purse and left fly before I could prevent it. But you were still on your feet when you told me to close the door. Fine, fine. Help me up. Yes, sir. Easy, easy. Oh, and I think of you lying in here unconscious all that time while I went out to lunch. What? If anything had happened to you, I'd never forgive myself. You call this nothing? Poor dear brave boy.

Now, you just sit down and relax. Now, the ambulance will be here any minute. Ambulance? Doesn't all these things cost money? Once, I said, I lost my head. Then I saw you running there all over the place. Forget it. Forget it. What's that gadget there on the floor? Oh, it's lipstick. Mr. dropped it out of her purse when she opened it with a sap. Ah. Apple of Eve. It's a ghost color, Sam. Apple of Eve.

Unique Garage, Harry speaking. Hey, this is Dreamer Love. Keep your distance. Look, you left your lipstick, but don't bother to come after it. I'll mail it to you. What kind is it? Apple of Eve. Sorry, I've never used it. Good, then I won't give you another thought. Oh, but you've got to. She's dead.

Eve Adams? Yeah. Jumped into a taxi in front of your building. I went straight after her. But I got caught in traffic where they're tearing up Market Street. That could be anywhere between the Embarcadero and Twin Peaks. Fine alibi. What comes next? Well, I'm at her apartment now. And she's dead. Sam, Sam! Hold on. Yeah, Effie? There's your ambulance. Can I send them away? What shall I do with them? Well, it's ten bucks now anyhow. I'll use it for a taxi. Hello, Miss Love. Yeah? Stay there and don't touch a thing. I'll be right over. Eve Adams!

Oh, my God.

I hadn't waited if that was really where she'd called me from. Eve Adams was on the bedroom floor in front of the dressing table. There was broken glass all over the floor that placed weeks of perfume. The front of the negligee was splashed with red. I looked for the wound, but I didn't find any. Then I looked at her hands. All the nails on her left hand and two on the right were the same color as the stain on her clothing. Evidently, she'd been seated at the dressing table putting on nail polish when the murderer entered the room.

The back of her head had been creased by the well-known blunt instrument such as a heavy sap. I felt the bumps on my head and looked at the overturned nail polish bottle on the dressing table. It was a small apple of ease. The makers of Wild Road Cream Oil are presenting the weekly Sunday adventure of Dashiell Hammett's famous private detective, Sam Sage. ♪♪

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The second time around the murder apartment, I noticed something I hadn't caught the first time. The smears of Apple of Eve nail polish didn't show very distinctly against the rust-colored carpeting that left a clear trail across the kitchen linoleum. When I opened the back door, I smelled burning cloth.

There was an incinerator just outside, and from it I fished a man's shirt, partially burned. The initials in the pocket were still intact, so were the red stains under them. The initials were G.H. The stains were, you guessed as they're gonna be, Apple of Eve. Yeah? I'm looking for Miss Dream of Love. Is she home? No, she isn't. Thanks. I'll come in and wait. Wait, wait. I'm gonna keep...

Okay, you're in. What do you want with her? She's in a little trouble. You a cop? Why do you expect her back? I don't know. What's his trouble? He threatened to kill a woman and now she's dead. Who? A girl named Eve Adams.

I wish he wouldn't kill Evie. The way I got it, they were locking horns over a guy named Gorse Hagen. You know him? Yeah, and I wish I didn't. Who is he? He used to run a gambling ship down at Malibu's, and the law turned him into a bait barge. Now he calls himself a yachtsman. But if you're trying to connect him up with my sister, it's a bad connection. She hasn't seen him in years. His idea or hers? Hers. And mine. Well, it was the beef. Yeah.

And who are you? I'm her brother. Eddie's my name. And why would there be any beef between those two? Evie was my sister's best friend, and she was engaged to me. Then this news must be quite a shock to you. You're taking it like a little soldier. She was asking for it. I warned her. I begged her to leave town with me. But no, she couldn't sneak off like that without letting Gorse know the score. I told her he'd kill her before he'd let her go. Mm-hmm.

You live here, Eddie? Yeah, whatever. Where do you keep your shoes? In a closet, kiddo. Where do you keep yours? Under the bed? Which closet in here? Wait a minute, you. Get your hands off of me. Let me see your wand. That better be good or you're going out of here on your head. Take your hands off me, Eddie. Let's see that wand. All right, I got a wand, Eddie. Here. Here.

Huh?

Oh, he asked for my want. Well, when you come to see me, I'll know better. Your name is Gorse Hagen. I'm headed for your place right now. What are you looking for? A pair of shoes with crepe soles.

What do you want with my deck shoes? I thought maybe they'd match up with this piece of the shirt that you're initialed on. Give me that. That's a fact. Where'd you get that? In the incinerator at Eve Adams' place. Well, that don't prove anything. Lots of people got the same initials. Have you talked to, uh, oh, uh, George Howard? He's alibi. He's out of town. That proves it's a frame. I don't know any George Howard. I thought so.

Okay, let's cut out the monkey business. Give it to me. That's evidence. Give it to me! Oh, I don't give it to you. I did. He gave it right back to me. I was only losing on points until I tripped over poor old Eddie and lost my balance. That's when he gave me the coup de grace. Oh!

I wasn't quite unconscious, but somehow I just didn't feel like getting up. And when the apartment door opened, I opened my good eyes just wide enough to see Dreamer Love walk in. Gorse, what are you doing here? I've come to help you, Dreamer. I don't need any help from you, Gorse. I told you that three years ago. Why did you kill her? I don't know what you're talking about. You killed Eve Adams. Why? You're wrong, Gorse. I haven't seen Eve in ages. Why did you kill her? I...

All right, I get it. Yeah? Why?

I was jealous. He and the two of you together after all we've been to each other. Go on, laugh at me. I committed murder out of love for you. It's very funny, isn't it? I'm very fond of you, dreamer. My poor little dreamer love. I'd give you anything, honey. The shirt from my back. Here. Here's a piece of it on the top. I see you're impressed. Me too.

Come on, we'll go someplace where we can be alone and talk things over. No, Gus, please, I can explain everything. I can explain in the car on the way down to the boat. Come on. You're hurting me. Come on, knock the door. Stupid me, I staggered to my feet and stumbled over to the door.

I reached it just as Hagen's car pulled away from the curb. By the time I found a taxi, they were at least halfway to wherever they were going. I didn't know whether the boat he had mentioned was tied up at the Embarcadero, anchored in the marina, moored at Sausalito, or becalmed in Oakland. But there was a seafaring man in our town who knew about such things. My port of call was the Seahorse Bar and Grill just off the head of Pier 16, or is it the foot...

Captain Bacardi? He is silent, Colonel, as in for far. My mistake. Salty by name and salty by nature. And the one father thing I can't abide. Salty of the coffee. The teeth, you know. All the life gave up. Well, thank you, sir. You're very generous. No, it ain't money, Major. But it's straight from the mint. Ha, ha. That's just what it is. What's up, Johnny? You in the hole again? Ha, ha. Ha, ha.

Yeah, what do you know about a yachtsman named Gorse Hagen? Oh, nice report, matey. There's nothing lower than a yachtsman. He's a... Where's the ship's boat? Well, now, she's still afloat. She'll be dragging her hook some of us off to Sausaludo. Now, she's a confided P.P., you know. She's going to the Sea Queen. She had her bottom pranks ripped out in the Battle of the Coral Sea and patched her up with plywood.

Well, she's got two diesels she has and two screws, two-to-one reduction gears. Yeah, yeah. What's the quickest way of getting out to her? Well, there's not much craft for child to hear about this time of night, you know. There's a Novak fellow, but that's the person he sleeps in one hour. There you go.

Might not be worth your while anyways. Why not? Well, Hagen stopped by here 20 minutes ago looking for his engineer. Said he was casting off on-side engineer or no engineer. What about your boat? My boat?

Okay, let's go.

This, um, this Hagen fellow now. You want to look him in his sails? Sails on a PT boat? Not the boat. The man, cut of his jib. I didn't notice that, but he was wearing crepe-soled shoes. I'll tell you about this Hagen, maybe. The fellow once tried to board him. A customs officer, no less. And then, picked him up four days later in a gill net with a fish gas so clean to his neck. Here, have another light, Schaefer. You may need it.

After he'd last met him on his station at the bird pump, Captain Society got his government in Monterey, Georgia, on a plotted course to Sausalito, he hoped, and we plunged recklessly into the fog.

If only I could catch the script, there's a 50-50 chance that A, Hagen had found his engineer and would be halfway to the Farallon Islands before we could make it past Alcatraz, if he stayed afloat that long, or B, that he hadn't found his engineer and might be having trouble starting up those two diesels with the twin spurs and the 2-to-1 reduction gears, whatever they are.

Well, here she lies, Major. Which one? About five points to cross. The blue one with the high free bar. She's up on the floor there, Major. Her ladder's round on the landed side. I'll swing round and put you on it. Hey! Anybody home?

He's likely below, missing in detail. You've got to rear back and holler me if you like this. Ahoy, the Sea Queen! I like that. So there is him. Portable salty, born to like a crab tree. The Superpuggo requests permission to board, sir. Hey, I want to talk to you, Hagen. Excuse me.

Captain Crowley. Lock down, you clumsy lover. Where'd he get you? Don't bite me. No. That's a midshipman. Here. How do you learn this thing? I've got to get you to shore. That's battle. There's a third unit. Don't pull it back all the way. She died. That's your opponent. You lie still.

What are you looking for? Jump a bucket. Life saver. If you need it. I don't know more. But when you're out to court with me, do you remember? Take it easy, Captain. Keep it balanced. Don't let your jib ruffle. Keep it on course, mate. Keep it. Hey, Captain. Captain Sully. Oh, raggedy.

I crawled over the rail and tried to make out Hagen's silhouette on the other boat. I could just barely make out the shape of the hull against the faint glow of light from the south leader's shore. He drifted a few yards of sand to Hagen's boat, but not out of rifle range. I wondered why. If he could see us well enough to drop Captain Salty, he'd let it go at that. And I got it. He was listening.

I didn't swim for speed, but for distance. Dropping now and then to make sure the man in the boat was still covering for me.

I

What's happened? Your brother's down there in the boat. Talk to him. What am I going to do? Talk to him. All right. Eddie. What's he done to you, sis? I'm all right, Eddie. Everything's all right. The person I've decided... Go on home, Eddie. He's lying to you. He knows you framed him. If you stay out of him, you won't come back. No, Eddie. I'm coming to find him. Eddie, no. Don't free me. No, Eddie. Eddie.

Drop it, Hagen. Drop the rifle. Drop it. You're a lousy shameless... Tell him. Did he hurt you?

Now, I've been kicked in the stomach before. It takes a woman to kick you in the teeth. I'm sorry. I don't care what you did. What burns me up, you didn't do it right. I hit a bungler, especially a female bungler. I'm a bungler. You're the one. It would have worked if you hadn't gone poking in the incinerator. I should have called the police. They don't know what to do with evidence like that. They've been wanting to get something on Gorse ever since repeal. Listen, Angel, any flatfoot could have seen through that setup. Eve Adams was sitting in front of a mirror when she was maced.

She saw the murderer enter the room. She got it in the back of her head. That means she trusted whoever walked up behind her. That also means the evidence of her struggle was fake. But the nail polish on Gorse's shirt. You put that nail polish on her fingers after she was dead, laid that trail to the incinerator with a pair of Gorse's shoes or any flat that was supposed to think he'd try to destroy the incriminating shirt. But the dumbest thing you did was lying to me about that matching lipstick you dropped in my office. That made you look guiltier than anybody because anybody could have planted that fake evidence. I didn't kill her. I'm not a murderer.

Your brother might have got off easy. Crime of passion. Please, please don't say that. I can't bear the thought that after everything I did, it's all come to nothing. Here, here, here. Our lifesaver. You may need it. Period. End of report. Oh, Dennis.

He is silent ever since the storm. What's that about? And now, listen to this. There's nothing like it, friends. There's nothing like wild root cream oil to groom your hair neatly and naturally. To it.

Oh, yes, sir.

And when I think about it, you see... To say nothing of my clients. I think I'll put a new sign on the door. Abandon hope for all ye who enter here. Oh, but I haven't, Sam. Where there's a will, there's a wish. There's a what? A wish, Sam. No, not... It reminds me. I've got to find it, by the way. Jamie, is this the wish? Oh, my God. One of us has got to have a clear head. Well, it'll be me.

Good night, Sam. Good night, Huda.

This is Dick Joy reminding you that next Sunday, author Dashiell Hammett and producer William Spear join forces for another adventure with Sam Spade, brought to you by Wild Root Cream Oil. Again and again, the choice of men who put good grooming first. ♪♪

I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress from my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to Quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life, so eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up, and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping. I'm not big on trends, never really have been, so I can't be trusted when it comes to clothes shopping for others. I'm married to someone who does understand what looks good.

Quince.com asked me to endorse them on Weird Darkness, and at first I thought, eh, that's a bad idea, for reasons I've already laid out. But I let my bride check out their website, and, well, she immediately started shopping for Christmas, birthdays, Mother's Day, Just Because Day, apparently that's a real thing, and now she keeps going back to Quince.com. Their lightweight layers and high-quality staples have become a go-to place for everyday essentials now.

Quince has all the things you actually want to wear this summer, like organic cotton silk polos, European linen beach shorts, and comfortable pants that work for everything from backyard hangs to nice dinners. And the best part? Everything with Quince is half the cost of similar brands.

They work directly with top artisans, so they cut out the middlemen. And Quince gives you luxury pieces without the markups. And Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical, and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. I honestly didn't think I needed Quince.com, but Robin says, yeah, I do. Desperately. I think that means she'll be buying some clothes there for me, too.

She's tired of seeing 98% of my closet being weird darkness t-shirts. Go figure. She's also making me out to be the hero in front of my nieces. We got a cute little toddler-sized poplin-smocked flutter-sleeve dress from my youngest great-niece, complete with pink puppies for the pattern. It's adorable, I'll admit that. We got a pair of cotton-stretched skinny jeans coming from my newly-teenaged great-niece, along with a set of organic cotton long-sleeve and pants pajamas.

My oldest niece, the mom in the family, is getting a pair of ultra-soft high-rise pocket leggings. Emphasis on pocket. That's a pet peeve of my bride. She refuses to buy pants without pockets. And we're also sending a pair of ultra-form high-rise leggings. I would look horrible in all of this stuff, but the ladies in the family are going to look awesome. Of course, we'll be going back to quince.com in the next few days to begin shopping for the nephews.

I'm not allowed to pick out those clothes either. Robin just does not trust me. Good call. Stick to the staples that last with elevated essentials from Quince. Go to quince.com slash weirddarkness for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's quince, Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash weirddarkness to get free shipping and 365 day returns. quince.com slash weirddarkness

Okay, yeah, I gotta admit, this t-shirt is kind of fading. My guess is that you've heard a lot of people talking about Factor, the two-minute meals packed with nutrition. Up until recently, though, I didn't really care much about nutrition. I was into convenience. Burgers, pizza, you get the drift. But, well, the older you get, the more you realize nutrition is kind of important.

At the same time, convenience is still crucial for me. I am busier now than I've ever been in my life. So eating food fast without eating fast food is a bit of a challenge. Was a bit of a challenge. With Factor, I get to check both of those off my list. I just heat it up and two minutes later, I'm sticking a fork in it.

Factor is more than convenient though. I don't even have to jump into my car to go through a drive-thru or pay a bunch of extra money so I can wait 30 minutes to an hour for a delivery app to come through for me. Factor meals arrive directly at my door, fresh and ready to eat. And with my new weight loss goals, the menu options are a real bonus. They have gourmet meals if I want to be calorie smart or pack on the protein, go keto and more. They have 45 weekly menu options.

How many weeks are there in a year? 52? Yeah, that's pretty dang close to a different menu for each week. I can use Factor for breakfast, quick lunches, premium dinners, even guilt-free snacks and desserts. Imagine that. Snacking without guilt. I didn't think that was possible. If you'd like to join me on this journey, you can visit factormeals.com slash darkness50off, then use the code darkness50off to get 50% off and free shipping in your first box.

That's factormeals.com/darkness50off, then use the code "darkness50off" to get 50% off and free shipping. The sealed book! Once again the keeper of the book has opened the ponderous door to the secret vault wherein is kept the great sealed book in which is recorded all the secrets and mysteries of mankind through the ages.

Here are tales of every kind. Tales of murder, of madness, of dark deeds strange and terrible beyond all belief. Keeper of the book, I would know what tale we tell this time. Open the great book and let us read. Lowly, the great book opens. One by one, the keeper of the book turns the pages and stops.

Ah, the strange story of a man who committed the perfect murder, only to discover that every murder must be paid for. A tale titled Death Last Last. Death Last Last

Here is the tale, Death Last Last, as it is written in the pages of the sealed book. Our story begins in the office of Dr. Robert Smith. There was a worried look on the doctor's face as he speaks to Edward Harrison. Sit down, won't you, Mr. Harrison? All right, thanks. Now, what is it, Doc? I can see by your face you want to tell me something about Mary, don't you? Mr. Harrison, your wife is dangerously ill. Does that mean she's...

She's gonna die? I must be frank with you. It does. Unless... Unless what, Doctor? Tell me. If there's a chance in the world, she's gotta have it, see? Her only hope is a brain operation. A very difficult and delicate operation. Without it...

Well, I could only give her six months, a year at most. No. No, it mustn't be. She's got to have the operation, you hear? I must tell you, Mr. Harrison, that only one man in this country has the necessary skill for the operation your wife needs. He is Dr. Howard Richards. I don't care who he is. Get him.

I was going to say, naturally, he's in great demand. His average fee for an operation is about $1,500. $1,500? Of course, if you can't afford that, he might consider the circumstances. No, I can't afford it. I can afford anything Mary needs. Then I'll get in touch with him at once. Yes, yes, sure. You make the arrangements right away. I'll get a hold of the money. I'll get it to you by tomorrow, sure.

Mr. Danvers, I'm Ed Harrison. Oh, yes, Mr. Harrison. Please sit down. Thanks. They told me you have to pass on all the real estate loans here at the bank. Have you looked over my application yet? I have it here. I see that you want to borrow $1,500 from us. That's right, and it's urgent. I've got to have the money right away. Mm-hmm.

Unfortunately, the security you offer, your home... What's wrong with it? It's a swell little house, good section, all in good repair. That's true, but you already have a first and second mortgage on it totaling $4,000, and, well, I'm afraid we can't make any further loans on it. But I've got to have the money, Mr. Danvers. I've just got to. I'm sorry to hear that, because there's nothing we can do to help you. Nothing we can do. THE END

You say you're not employed, Mr. Harrison? No, I own a shop. I'm a locksmith. That means you're never certain of your income. If you had a job now, a regular income you could depend on. What are you getting at? You mean you're not going to let me have the money? I certainly wish I could, but under the circumstances... I'm sorry, very sorry, but there's nothing I can do to...

I'm afraid the collateral you suggest isn't satisfactory, Mr. Harrison. We'd lend you the money if we could, but we just can't. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

Edward, you aren't eating and you're so quiet. Is anything wrong? What? Oh, no, no, of course not. You're worrying about me, aren't you? Well, no, Mary. I just think about making some changes at the shop and... Darling, please, you don't have to lie to me. I know that I'm not well, but I'm going to get better. Really, I am. I promise it. Of course you are. Dr. Smith said so. You're going to be well in no time.

Of course I am, dear. Now, I've got to go out. I have an appointment over the other side of the city with Horace Latimer. We grow up together. He wants to see me about something important. Edward had no appointment with Horace Latimer. But he went to see Horace anyway. For he and Horace had been boyhood friends. Then their paths had separated. Horace had grown wealthy.

But in his desperation, Edward Harrison hoped that Horace would remember the past and would lend him the money he'd been trying to raise all day. Horace could spare it easily, but would he?

Fifteen hundred? Well, that's rather a lot of money, Ed. I know it is, Horace. But it's for Mary. For an operation. I've got to have it. Oh, why don't you try the bank? You have a house, a business. I tried the bank and all the personal loan companies in town. They all turned me down. Said the security wasn't good enough. I see. Well, that's too bad.

You can bet I'd lend it to you, Ed, if I had it. Well, that's the trouble. I haven't any ready cash. No, the income tax, you know, and a couple of shaky investments that I had to bolster up later. All right, Horace. Never mind explaining. I get the idea. You're not going to lend me the money. Really, Ed, I would if I could, but I can't. I'm sorry. Save your sorrow for somebody else. I don't need your money, you hear? I'll get it someplace else. Yes, I'll get it.

Somehow. After he had slammed out of Horace Latimer's expensive home, Edward stood for a moment on the dark street corner, staring back with bitterness in his face. Sorry. Yeah, you're sorry. In a pig's eye, you're sorry. Oh, what a sap I was to think you were a pal of mine. What's that, buddy? Was you speaking to me? Oh, no, sorry. I...

I guess I was thinking out loud. That's okay. We all do it sometimes. Hey, you got a match? Match? Well, yeah, sure. Here, here. Thanks. Okay, just hold it like that. Make a move and I plug you. Gun! Yeah, this is a stick-up. Hand over your dough and make it fast, see? My dough? That's a hot one. I'm out trying to raise money myself. Now we're both out of luck. I've only got a dollar on me. Take it if you want it.

Anyway, it's more than I could raise. Don't try to kid me. Anybody who lives in this ritzy suburb has dough on him. Stand still while I see what you got in your pockets. A wallet and a leather case of some kind. You'll find just one dollar in that wallet. And I don't live in this neighborhood. I came here to try to borrow some money from a friend. A buck. One measly buck. With a lousy break.

But I bet you got a roll hidden in this leather case. It's heavy enough. You'll lose your bet. Nothing in there but my emergency kit. Yeah? Well, I'll just see for myself. Hey. Hey, this kit's full of skeleton keys and pick locks and stuff. What are you anyway, a second story waker? I'm a locksmith and safe repairman, if it's anything to you. Were you on the level just now when you said you was trying to raise dough? What's it to you? Yeah, you'd be surprised, pal.

Okay, I'm putting the gun away, but you ain't leaving yet. Me and you, we're going to talk business. Because I got a plan that'll get us both all the dough we need. Two more beers, waiter. Well, is the deal on my proposition? I...

Uh, I don't know, Mike. Sure you do. There's nothing to it. You can open locks and safes. I know where there's a house with plenty of dough in it. But, Birdler, I've never stolen anything in my life. Now, listen, you said you needed dough bad, didn't you? And so do I, plenty bad. But... All you gotta do is get the back door open and then the safe. In half an hour, you'll have your 1,500 and more. How else are you ever gonna get it? Answer me that. Uh, I don't know.

You sure the money's there, Mike? Positive. I was casing the joint and looked in the window in time to see the old geezer put a whole roll of bills in a safe that's no stronger than a bread box. You can open it with your teeth. Gotta get the money somehow. All right. I'll do it. ♪♪

♪♪

And now to continue the story, Death Laughs Last, as it is written in the sealed book. A few minutes later, Edward Harrison and Mike arrived at the large mansion and quietly made their way toward the back door. Okay, this is it.

Everybody's hit the hay long ago. It'll be a cinch. That lock looks easy. But I shouldn't be doing this. There must be some other way to get the money. Don't be a sucker all your life. You're gonna take what you want in this world. Don't you never get it? Well... Come on, get that door open. We gotta get inside before we're spotted. All right. Let me take a second. I think... Yeah. It's unlocked. Okay, get inside.

The safe's in the library down this way. Don't make any noise. You sure? There's only two of them in the house? Yeah, the old guy and this butler. Probably both of them deaf as posts. Here's the library. Come on, the safe's behind the picture on the wall. This picture? Yeah, that's it. I'll lift it down. There you are. That safe is just a kid's toy. Go ahead, get it open. It won't be that easy. I'll have it open inside a half an hour. Ah!

Hurry it up. You've been 40 minutes on that thing. It's coming now. There, the safe's open. About time, too. Let's see what's in it. Here's the cash box. We'll open it.

There, look. Double cash, Mazuma. What'd I tell you? There must be thousands there. Easy. Come on, we'll count it and divvy it up. No, no, never mind. Just give me 1,500. That's all I want. You can keep the rest. Are you kidding? No, that's all I want. Just the 1,500 that I need. Okay, it's your funeral. Here you are.

Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen hundred dollar bills. Fifteen hundred dollars? Yeah, for just an hour's work. Easy money, huh? What do you say we crack a couple more cribs tonight? Oh, no. I just want to get out of here, Nolan. Someone's coming. Someone's coming. Here, get behind this door. I'll take care of this. Who's there? Jenkins, is that you? Oh, where's that light switch? Ah, there.

Burglars? Jenkins! Jenkins, call the police, quick! Nobody's calling any cops tonight, chum. Help, police! Help! Maybe that'll convince you. You hit him. What'd you expect me to do, shake his hand? You killed him. That's murder. Yeah, and you're in just as deep as me. Don't forget that. Yeah, I'm an accessory to murder. Cut the guff and let's get out of here. Or do you want to get caught? No, no, of course not. Then let's get going. Bounce that light.

I don't hear nothing. Come on, we'll get out the way we come in. But suppose... suppose we are caught. Minor, they'll hang us. We ain't gonna get caught. We haven't left a clue, not even a fingerprint. Stand still, both of you. I have a gun and I have you covered. But, butler... If you move, I'll shoot. I can see you perfectly. Standing on the stairs, he's got a gun. We're caught. We're caught. Not yet. We ain't not by an old scarecrow with a rusty horse pistol. Put up your hands. I...

I'm going to call the police. You've done something to the master. I heard him call. Okay, okay, we'll put up our hands like this. You shot him. Come on, we got to get out of here in a hurry. Them shots will bring the cops but fast. Okay, here we are. Come on in. But why did you make me come here? Why can't I go home? You heard me. Come on in. That's better.

Now, take off your hat and stay a while. Why did you make me come here to your room? Two reasons. The first is I want to make sure you know what it'll mean if you let anything slip. It'll mean a rope around your neck. Get me? Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me. I won't let anything slip. If I thought you might, I'd slit your gullet right now. I won't. I... I have to live. For my wife's sake. Okay. Okay.

And the second reason you're here is so you and me can have a little talk. Talk? What kind of a talk? Well, chum, I like the way you got that door and that safe open tonight. You and me got a future together. What? As soon as the heat's off, we're going to do another little job together. No. I won't do it. I won't. Sure you will. I won't do it. You can't make me. Oh, yes, I can't.

If you don't, I can always send a little note to the cops, telling them it's you they want for them killings tonight. You wouldn't. They'd get you, too. I'd be a long ways away by then. But you can't get away. You've got a business here and a sick wife. You couldn't leave them. Well, you're going to do what I say? You devil. You... Don't say it.

You don't think you can just dip into crime and then back out again without getting your hands dirty, do you? You don't think you can pull a job and then go on as if nothing had happened? You're mixed up in murder. And somebody's always got to pay for murder. One way or another. I only did it for Mary's sake. It don't matter why you did it. You're in it now and you can't get out. Not without paying in some way. I...

I've got a good mind to go to the police, to confess, to get it off my chest. No, no, you don't. You see this gun? I'd plug you in a second if I thought... No, you... Get away from me. Let go of my hand. Let go. You got me into this. You're not going to make me go any further with it. I'll take that gun away from you and I'll... You fool. Let go or I'll plug you out. Mike. Mike. He's dead. I killed him.

In a daze of horror, Edward Harrison found his hat and made his way to the street. His mind in a whirl, he stumbled into a tiny bar a few blocks away. Struggling to control his shaking hands and to keep his voice normal, he ordered a double whiskey and gulped it down. Then, as his senses cleared a little, he heard the radio at the end of the bar broadcasting a warning to the city. ♪♪

Attention all residents of the city. Attention all residents. The police department is asking you to be on the line. A man wanted for a brutal double murder committed less than an hour ago. Please make a note of the following description. No, no. The man was... Hey, buddy, what's the idea? Why'd you shut the radio off for? Because I was sick of listening to it, that's why. Oh, is that so? Well, I'm not, see? And I got an idea maybe there was some other reason you didn't want to hear it.

So I'm going to turn it back on, see? No, no, you mustn't. Well, I'm gonna. If you try to make a break for it, I got a gun right here under the bar, see? So now let's hear what that dirty killer looked like. I repeat, be on the lookout for a man of medium height, lean and wiry, with reddish-brown hair, wanted for the double murder in Buxton Park earlier this evening. If you see such a man, report it once to headquarters.

We now turn you back to our regular night-hall program of popular dance tunes. Lean and whitey with reddish-brown hair, huh? Well, that ain't you. You're heavy-set and black-haired. For a minute there, you had me going. I was positive you was the killer, the way you didn't want me to hear the description. Just jumpy, huh? Well, here, have another drink on the house. Thanks, but I gotta get home. I need some sleep. Yeah.

That's what I need. Some sleep. The End

And now to continue the story, Death Laughs Last, as it is written in the sealed book. As Edward Harrison left the bar and hurried home, he was aghast at how close he'd come to giving himself away. It was Mike the police were looking for, not Edward Harrison. It was Mike whose description they had. Edward Harrison was safe.

Safe. Hardly able to believe in his own good luck, Edward reached his home and let himself in. Mary was asleep. Quietly he got into bed and at long last fell asleep. When he awoke, it was morning and Mary was already preparing breakfast. Good morning, darling. What time did you get home anyway? I waited up for you until almost two. I was pretty late. I

Stubbed at the shop and did a little work. Forgot to watch the time, I guess. Oh, and this morning you look terrible. I know. You're worrying about me. Oh, but you mustn't, darling. I'm going to be all right. Really, I am. Of course you are. I'm going to see to that. What do you think?

Dr. Smith called up last night. He wanted to talk to you. He said he had some good news for you. Good news? Yes, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. I don't know why. He asked for you to stop in at his office this morning. I think I know what it is.

Yeah, sure. I'll go right over and see him. But, darling, you're going to eat breakfast first, aren't you? I'll eat when I get back. I want to see the doctor first. Anyway, I'm not very hungry. Well, all right, Edward, but please hurry back. I want to know, too, what the doctor says. Yeah, sure, Mary. I'll be right back. But everything's okay now. Everything's okay. After he left the house, Edward bought a morning paper...

Big headlines told of the murders the night before, but he scarcely saw them. His eyes hurried through the story until he found what he was looking for, the news that Mike's body had been found. The butler Mike had shot had given the police Mike's description and then died before he could tell them there was anyone with Mike. So the police had listed Mike's death as a suicide or as an accident and closed the case. Edward Harrison was safe.

Perfectly safe. Safe? I'm safe. I've got the money. Mary's going to be all right. The cops aren't looking for me. Mike was wrong. Sometimes you can get away with murder and not have to pay anything, if you're lucky. And I've been lucky. I've been lucky. I've been lucky.

Good morning, Doctor. Mary said you'd phoned and had some good news. Oh, yes, Mr. Harrison. I called you last night after I got in touch with Dr. Richards. I wanted to tell you that you'd agreed to operate on your wife. Well, that's swell, Doctor. I got the money right here in my pocket. The money, yes, yes. I was also going to tell you that Dr. Richards had said not to worry about it. You could take as long as you wanted to pay it. As long as I wanted? Then it wasn't necessary.

I didn't have to do it. I didn't have to do it. I'm afraid I don't understand. Never mind, Doc. I mean, I've got the money. I want to pay it. He's got to take it right away. Well, what's the matter? What are you looking at me like that for? The operation is going to save Mary's life, isn't it? You said it would. You can't go back on your word. You can't, do you hear? It's not that, Mr. Harrison. Yes, the operation would save your wife's life.

But unfortunately, Dr. Richards was the only man in this country able to perform it. Well, so what? He said he'd do it, didn't he? And I've raised the dough to pay it. So what's the hitch? Mr. Harrison, Dr. Richards can't perform the operation now. But you said that... Yes, I know.

But he was tragically murdered last night by a burglar who broke into his home in Buxton Park. And so ends the tale, Death Laughs Last, as it is written in the sealed book. In an effort to save his wife's life, Edward Harrison had helped kill the one man who might have saved her.

Twisted indeed are the strands of fate in which destiny entangles mere mortals. ♪♪

And now, keeper of the book, before you close the great volume, show us the tale we tell next time. This one? Ah, yes. The tale of a man who was murdered by his wife and her brother and the strange way he rose from a watery grave to accuse them of his death.

The tale is titled, You Only Die Once. Be sure to be with us again next time when the sound of the great gong heralds another strange and exciting tale from The Sealed Book. The Sealed Book, produced and directed by Jock McGregor, is written by Bob Arthur and David Cogan.

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

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

I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me for tonight's Retro Radio, old-time radio in the dark.