THE INTRUDERS: Some Spirits Don’t Know They Are Gone | Paranormal & Crime OTR
05:07:49 Share

Looking to buy your first car or home? Understanding your FICO score is key to achieving your life goals. Knowing your FICO scores helps you apply for loans with confidence and avoid surprises. With MyFICO, you get access to your FICO score, credit reports, 24-7 monitoring, and alerts on the go. Take the mystery out of your score and get your FICO score for free today.

Visit myfico.com slash free and discover the score lenders use most. The Black Museum. Affiliated stations present Escape. Dinner Sanctum Miss. The Seal. Presents Suspense. And 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. The difference between man and animal, said Voltaire, is that man knows he will die. Animals have bodies, brains, instincts, and desires, as we do, but they do not have our fiendish comprehension that we are finite.

that one day, tomorrow, or the next, this year, or the one after, in this century, or the following one, our bodies, brains, instincts, and desires will have perished.

Of course, that is why we seek so desperately to convince ourselves of the truth of reincarnation. The promise of a life beyond this one. Of some kind of immortality. To soften the implacable reality of death. The house has whispers in it. Too bad. Really, Elaine. Really too bad. They mutter to themselves. What have I done to deserve this?

Sometimes they shout. It's your fault. It's not mine. It's yours. Shut up, both of you. I would think they'd still be talking after all these years. No!

Our mystery drama, The Intruders, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Elspeth Erick and stars Lois Nettleton. It is sponsored in part by Buick Motor Division and Carrier Air Conditioning. I'll be back shortly with Act One. ♪♪

We all have minds, instincts, and desires. And we all live with the knowledge that one day they will all run down and come to a stop. And the world will spin on, oblivious and indifferent to the fact that we no longer inhabit it.

So perhaps the fear that chills our blood is not so much that life will be over as it is that we will have so wasted it as to have left no impression whatever on the world we leave behind. I walked the last half mile or so to the house because I wanted to come to it alone. I had dreamed of it nearly every night for seven years, the serene old house standing under great elms and oaks,

built of the mellowest old field stone dug out of the resisting earth that surrounded it. And now as I walked up the path and saw the front door painted a soft olive green, the great brass knocker shining softly, I knew that I had done the right thing. I had come home. I pushed the door open.

There was the great wide entrance hall. There was the gently curving staircase with its polished mahogany balustrades leading to the floor above where now I was certain I would find my old bedroom just as I'd left it. Yes, I had done the right thing. I'd come home.

I started toward the staircase, anxious to see my old, my own, my so familiar room with its long windows opening onto the gardens, its four-poster bed all hung and muslin, its tiny fireplace crouching like a cat in one corner. All, all would say, Welcome home, Elaine. We're glad you've come. I had one foot on the first stair when something happened. I heard whispers, very soft whispers. Whispers.

So soft I couldn't distinguish the words. But one thing was unmistakable. I was not alone in my house. I had come home. But to what? Such a bother. It's too bad. It really is too bad. Why did it have to happen just now? When everything was going so well. Why did it have to happen to us? It's really too much. It's a shame. That's what it is. Yeah. Yeah, it's a shame. Who had taken over my house?

Who had dared to move into my house? Who was intruding on my property? We have to do something. Don't both of you look at me. I don't know what to do. I hope you don't think I do. You certainly don't think I do. Now let's not fight among ourselves. Let's put our heads together and think what to do. Yeah, we have to figure out something. Yes. Everything was spoiled. Strangers were in my house.

Three of them, it sounded like. They had broken into my house, and now they were upset because I'd come back to claim it. They must have seen me coming up the path, heard me open the door, walk in. And now they were trying to decide what to do next. She's so young. That's not the point. I know, but... But she can't stay here. Where can she go? That's what we have to figure out. She's so young and so frail. Such a little thing. The voices were coming from the front parlor.

I made up my mind. I would simply confront them. Tell them that I had come home to my own house and they must leave. Who's going to tell her? Not I. Certainly not me. You don't expect me to. You're the logical one. You can't make me do it. I won't. The door to the front parlor flew open and a woman rushed out. I braced myself against the post and tried to summon my courage to find my voice.

But everything was happening so fast. The woman hurrying straight towards me. The two men after her. You have to. I won't. You can't expect us to do your dirty work for you. I won't. I won't do it. Do you know what happened then? The woman rushed right past me and up the stairs. She took no notice of me at all.

I was astonished. I watched her run up the stairs to the second floor. I was trembling all over. Everything was being spoiled. I'd come home and now my home was not mine. It was filled with intruders. I turned to see what the others, the two men, were doing. The door to the front parlor had closed again. They must have gone back in. I tiptoed across the hall and put my ear to the door. I heard a noise.

and I could hear them talking. It's up to you. Why not you? You're the head of the house. Not when it comes to things like this. Oh, you mean not when it comes to whatever you don't feel like doing. That'll be enough out of you. I am not going to argue with you. The door suddenly opened, and one of the men came out. He was rather young, which surprised me for some reason. About my own age, I would suppose. Handsome, with black hair and blazing eyes.

I couldn't help but admire him. He strode angrily out of the room into the hall and slammed the door behind him. I watched him dash upstairs, two steps at a time, perhaps to comfort the woman, perhaps to enrage her further. Now there was only one of the intruders left. I would confront him, demand what right he had to be in my house and order him to leave. When he had complied, then I could deal with the other two.

You will leave my house at once. My voice lacked all conviction. I was embarrassed, mortified. The man, older than the other one who had just passed me in the hall, was standing at a window looking out. And it would seem hearing nothing. For he didn't even turn his head at the sound of my voice. He simply stared, unseeing out the window. Then his hands gripped his head.

A quivering sigh turned into a deep sob. His whole great body shook and his knees bent until they touched the floor. Lord, help me, Lord. I cannot bear it. I cannot. Lord God in heaven, help me. Help me or I am lost. I stood stuck still at the door. All my anger had left me.

All my indignation, all my resolve to rid my house of these usurpers. I had only a huge desire to cross over to him, put my arms around his big shoulders and draw his head to my breast. Whatever his trouble, whatever his misery, I wanted only to comfort him. I did what I could. I did my best. Lord, you know I meant nothing but good.

I never meant that things should be like this. I meant only the best. Only the best. I felt sobs in my own throat. A sympathy I had not known for years. A love for another human overcame me. A human I did not recognize, did not know. He turned slowly and started for the door. I held out both my arms. Forgive me. I'm sorry. So sorry. I'm sorry.

for whatever it is I have done. Then the most astounding thing happened. As I stepped forward to embrace him, he lifted his gaze from the floor, looked straight into my face, into my eyes, which by now were as full of tears as his own, and he said, Am I never to be forgiven? And having said those words, not to me, to anyone, he walked to the door.

The jacket of his coat brushed my dress as he walked past me to the door which was open, went straight through into the hall, and vanished from my sight. I was alone in the parlor. Whatever I had expected my homecoming to be, it was not this. No, never this. To be the outsider in a place that belonged to me? I went upstairs. But before I reached the room that had always been mine, I passed another room.

A big square room with a big double bed. And on it lay the woman. I crossed over to her. She was sleeping. But her lips moved. And I bent over to try to catch the words. Baby. Baby. Baby. That was all she said. But she kept saying it. Baby. I put my ear close to her mouth to try to catch another word. But I heard only baby. Repeated over and over. Baby.

Then I was suddenly aware, and I felt a chill sweep through me. I was aware that from her mouth no breath escaped. There was no feeling of her breath upon my cheek. I ran from the room across the upstairs hall. The door to another room stood open. Inside, the young man with the black hair and blazing eyes was pacing up and down, and

I watched him for almost a minute from the doorway, but he never looked up or took any notice of me. Suddenly, he grabbed a vase of flowers from a table and dashed it to the floor. Damn! The explosion of his anger drove me away and downstairs. I ran to the back of the house, to the kitchen. Seated at the big work table was the man, not crying now, not making any sound whatsoever, but staring straight ahead with eyes that were bleak and passionless.

He did not move as I entered the room. His big hands lay side by side on the table, palms down. Love and pity stirred me. I moved to where he sat and put both my hands over one of his. Still he did not move. How could he not move, I thought. And then, oh, then I realized that his hand...

His big hand that lay in both of mine had no substance at all. It was as though my hands held air. I touched nothing. I held nothing. The hand, big and strong and firm as it appeared to be, was nothing. And then I knew, certainly and surely, I knew that I had come home to find my house inhabited by ghosts.

What could be worse than coming home after a long absence to find your house occupied by three ghosts? Well, I'll tell you what could be worse. To find that some persons had backed up a moving van to your door and made off with all your belongings. Or to discover that a fire had burned it to the ground.

That would be worse. But three fairly civilized, seemingly non-violent ghosts? What's so bad about that? I'll be back shortly with Act Two. Our heroine, Elaine, has returned to her home.

The home she firmly believed to be hers and finds it tenanted by three people. Or what she believed to be people, but she has now decided must be ghosts.

There is the lady ghost, whose sleeping breaths cannot be felt upon Elaine's cheek. There is a young male ghost, who cannot hear Elaine's knock upon his door. And finally, there is a gentleman ghost, whose hand Elaine cannot feel when she takes it in both her own. Feeling perplexed, but strangely, not in the least frightened, I went upstairs...

I opened the door just as I had opened it countless times before and went in. I heard something. To my astonishment, to my infinite delight, there was a fire burning in my tiny fireplace. How could this be? Had the three unhappy and quarrelsome ghosts been expecting me? Was it their way of saying welcome to the owner of the house? I sat down in the Windsor rocking chair that I remembered from long ago. Knock, knock, knock.

It even creaked in the old familiar way. Sensitive my ghosts must be to know that I would be disappointed if anything had changed, if my rocker did not still give off its well-remembered, its well-beloved little squeak. So, born gently and sweetly into my own past, lulled by the creaking of the rocker and crackling of the fire, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up feeling much refreshed. I washed my face a little, brushed my hair, and went downstairs. I wanted to go back to the kitchen where I'd left the elderly gentleman. My favorite, I must confess, of the three ghosts. Though I felt pity for the woman and an odd attraction to the young man. This time, the old gentleman was not alone at the kitchen table. All three were there. The boy still looked angry. He was still angry.

The woman's still anxious and unhappy. Only the older man seemed to have composed himself. Now, I've heated up what's left of the lamb stew we had last night, and I want you all to eat some. Oh, I can't, Frederick. Neither can I. I want no nonsense from either of you. We have decisions to make, and we are not going to make them on an empty stomach. Really? There's some for you, Elizabeth. Now, eat it all. Oh, Fred, some for you. Now, come on, dig in. And some for me. Oh, and there's milk in that pitcher, so help yourselves. Oh.

As they started to eat the stew and drink the milk, I found that I was hungry, too. It had been hours since I'd eaten. There was a fourth chair at the table. What harm could it do if I sat down with them? It would be cozy. It would be nice. There was always the chance that one or more of them would notice me, speak to me, make friends with me. I picked up the old bent wood chair, sat in it,

And... Inched it towards the table. No one looked up. They kept right on eating. Seems I was hungry after all. Of course you were. Didn't think I'd ever want to eat again. Not after this morning. That was dreadful. I don't think she even knew who I was. Well, the main trouble is this house. Yes. Yes, the house. She loves it. Too much. Yes. Too much. What were they talking about?

This house. That must mean this very house in which we were all sitting. My house. My very own cherished house. And what did they mean? I loved it. Loved it too much. And that was the trouble. Is that what they were saying? Oh, really? My temper flared a little. After all, I was mistress of the house. They were simply guests and uninvited ones at that. I was the owner of the house. Meanwhile, I was hungry and no one was offering me anything. And I was hungry.

The lady ghost had not even touched her stew. I picked up her spoon and dipped into her bowl. Delicious. I couldn't think when anything had tasted so good. I picked up the pitcher of milk, since I had no glass, and took a hearty gulp. Life was going to be pleasant if my ghosts kept cooking and cleaning for me. There was always the possibility that one day they would see me as I saw them, and we would talk together, touch one another,

Be a close, if slightly peculiar, little family. I watched them finish their luncheon. I had volunteered a few remarks during the meal, and no one had paid the slightest attention. It was clear that I had not yet found a way to communicate with ghosts. I'll, uh, I'll clear the table. I'll help. No, no, let Fritz do it. All right, Fritz. Okay. Okay.

See there now, Mother? You did have an appetite after all. You ate a whole bowl of lamb stew. I hardly touched it. Steen's believing. Well, I didn't know I was doing it, I swear. I could hardly hold back a giggle. The lady didn't know I had eaten all her stew. How long, I thought, will I have to go on sneaking food from their plates? How long before they would notice it? How long before they would notice me? Fritz, will you wash up? Oh, sure. I want to go out and...

and pick the last of the roses. I'll come with you. Those two must be husband and wife, I thought, as I watched them go out the back door, hand in hand, walking a little wearily, leaning each one a little on the other for support. I lingered on in the warm, bright kitchen, watching the handsome boy ghost at the sink. I wanted to touch his wavy black hair where it curled down the nape of his neck.

I wanted to kiss the long-fingered hands that held the dishes under the running water, scrubbed and then dried them and put them away. But I soon tired of watching his brooding face, and I remembered the elderly couple who were by now wandering among the roses, my roses. There had been vases of them in every room of the house. It had been a vase of roses that this grim young man had dashed to the floor.

I would go out and see my roses again. There they were. She with a basket over her arm. He with a pair of clippers carefully snipping off the roses. The pink, the yellow, the white. And placing them in the basket she held. I fairly danced up to them. I felt I loved them so. Surely in this garden spot they would see me and know me. But they simply talked quietly to each other.

The yellow ones are almost finished. Yes, and the white. The yellow are my favorites. Well, we'll put in more next year. We always do that. But what for? One never knows. You may be right. What, hurt yourself? Just a thorn. Well, you should be more careful. Oh.

Andy went on cutting the flowers and putting them in her basket. She put her injured finger in her mouth for a second or two, then went on arranging the roses. The pinks together, the whites together, the yellow. What now? I did it again. Oh, really, Elizabeth? This time she held out her finger for him to look at. I looked too, and what I saw bewildered me.

More than anything that had gone before. From her finger, which she held up to him as piteously as a puppy with an injured paw. From her finger, after a drop of crimson blood. Blood. My ghosts could bleed. I told you to be careful. I know you did. I just wasn't thinking. It's hard. I know, my dear, I know. But I don't want you hurting yourself.

How can I be hurt any more than I've already been hurt? Tell me that. Well, I hurt too, you know. I do know. We've all been hurt. We're all bleeding. Yes. Let's go back. We have enough roses. I followed them as he tenderly shepherded her toward the house, stopping now and then to comfort her and dry her eyes. What was troubling my ghosts? What was the deep unhappiness that depressed them...

I ached with sympathy for my newly adopted family. The doctor's here. The doctor? Mm-hmm. He wants to talk to you both. Is it good news, or... He wouldn't tell me. He wants to discuss something with you. What? A possibility, he said. What possibility? A possibility of what? He wouldn't tell. He wants to talk to you.

We all went into the house, through the kitchen, into the front parlor where sat a strange man. Small, undistinguished with gray hair, parchment skin, and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Pale blue they were, but penetrating, bright, and somehow kind. I'm glad I found you in. You have news for us, Doctor. In a way, I have a...

She was asking for you this morning. For me? Did she... She... She asked for all of you. By... By name? Did she seem to remember... Not everything, no. But enough. Enough. Enough to give you hope?

Well, I should think so. Oh, Doctor. She seemed concerned about three of them. I must say, it was a happy thing for me to hear. When I saw her earlier this morning and she asked about all of you, I spent some extra time with her. I asked her if she'd like to come home. Come home? Could she?

Well, I had to talk to you about it first, of course. But if she's well enough... She's better. She's improved. Then why not? I want you to talk it over between yourselves. There's nothing to talk over. What are we waiting for? Let's go get her. Now, not so fast. I insist that you sleep on it. Then in the morning, if you're all agreed, come see her at the sanitarium. If all of you are like-minded, you can bring her home. I think...

I think perhaps we're taking chances, but then we never chance anything. We never gain anything. Am I right? Was the doctor a ghost as well? Frankly, I couldn't make him out at all. That bit of homely philosophy, life is full of risk.

but we must risk something to gain something. That didn't sound much like a ghost to me. To a ghost? After all, life is, well, what is it? Something they've lost? Or is it something they've found? Or is it something in between? The End

Our heroine at the end of Act Two had made some slight progress toward establishing herself as mistress in her own house. She had met the three ghosts who dwelt there, though clearly they had not met her, being apparently quite oblivious of her presence. Still, she had developed real feeling for them, no matter how they ignored her. She had touched them, though they did not react. She had even sat down to luncheon with them.

Now at last I knew what was troubling my three sweet ghosts. Someone they all loved. A woman. A girl. Was very ill. And now they were going to bring this invalid home. Home to my house. Perhaps they had chosen my house so that she would have a particularly lovely place to come to after the sterility of a hospital. When I went to my pale blue room that night,

There were fresh yellow roses in a white vase next to my bed. And surprise of surprises, my bed had been turned down. The blue and white coverlet had been neatly folded across the foot of the bed. The pillow and its embroidered slip had been plumped up at the head. And the turned-down corner revealed the loveliest of linen sheets...

laughed aloud in my great joy. My new family was about to be complete, and all of us would be very, very happy together. Oh!

In the morning, I came downstairs to find them chattering excitedly. Fritz, we've decided you should not stay here. Why? Because three of us might be too much company for her. You know how she's behaved those other times. Oh, but Frederick, this time will be different. Remember what the doctor said, it's only a chance. That's more than we've had before. All right, all right. Fritz...

You go over the whole house, and if you see anything, anything at all, any bit of dust or piece of scrap, everything must be absolutely perfect. And be sure there's food in the icebox and plenty of soft drinks. Fritz will take care of everything. Everything. Don't excite yourself. How can I help it? My baby. My baby is coming home. So it was her baby.

The day before, when I had bent over her, she lay sleeping in the bed and had heard her whisper in her sleep over and over again the word, baby. It was her child who was ill, who had been taken away from her, kept away for so long. Not a baby anymore, I suspected, but a girl. How big? How old? Would she be pretty?

The older man brought a car around to the front door. He left it for a minute to go inside to get his wife, and that gave me just enough time to clamber into the back seat and scrunch myself way down on the floor. That way they would never see me.

For I was becoming more and more certain that the time was very near when they would see me, when I would introduce myself properly and offer to share my house with them forever. But not just yet. We must all wait till the family was complete, till the one I'd never seen had been brought back from the sanitarium, till she was settled in, felt comfortable. Then they would begin to see me, hear me, touch me, love me.

It was only a short drive to the sanitarium. Tomorrow, she and I will go shopping for clothes. That's too soon. Well, next week then. Now listen, we must be patient. Very gradual about this whole thing. I know, I know. But let me dream. Dream away, darling. Dream away. I felt the car make a turn off the road to the right. Only then did I get up off the floor and look out the window.

There stood a great white house. Pretty enough, though not nearly so handsome as mine. The couple got out and hurried up the broad marble steps and went inside. I slipped in with them before the door closed. The doctor I had seen at my house the day before came out of a room, greeted the man and his wife, and took them back with him into the same room. Once again, I managed to slip in before the door closed.

I hid myself behind a chair. Please, sit down, both of you. Yes. Thank you. Well, now... How... How is she, Doctor? Yes, how is she this morning still? Is still improved? I'm not sure. How can you be not sure? You talked to her. She still wants to come home. We have everything ready for her. Does she want to? Oh, yes. She still wants to come home more than before. Well, then...

Well, wait. Doctor, there's more, isn't there? Yes, there's more. Well, tell us. She's anxious to come home. Very anxious. But her attitude toward all of you... Yes. You said yesterday she was concerned for us. That's changed? Yes, sir, it's changed. Changed back. Back? Back. Back to what it was? To what it was...

When she first came here... Oh, no. It can't be that she... She hates us. She wants to kill us. Oh, no. Now, now, now. Now, love and hate live together. You understand that, don't you? They live side by side in every human being. There is never just love, never just hate.

We have a glib sounding word for it. Ambivalent sounds so impersonal, so technical. But believe me, its substance is anything but impersonal. It is a state of being that rips us apart every moment of our lives. It is the condition that brings great joy and great sorrow.

A condition that rules us, confuses us, threatens to destroy us. It is, to put it briefly, it is the human condition. But what does all this mean? It means that Elaine is capable of loving you very greatly. And hating you just as much. You see, there is an imbalance in her, so she rocks from one side to the other, unable to regulate her feelings. Now...

If she goes home with you, you must bear this in mind. If she comes home with us. I wasn't paying much attention to what anybody said. Especially the doctor, whose talk I didn't understand at all. Crouched as I was behind the chair, I simply wanted the whole thing to be over with. For them to be united with their darling girl. And bring her back to my beautiful home so that we could start being a family. Yes? What's that? Oh, I understand. How long ago...

Well, no, that's not too bad. No, hold everything. I'll be right out. Excuse me, will you? Of course, doctor. Was that call, did it have to do with Elaine? Yes, she's wandered off somewhere. They're looking for her now. Don't worry. She's still on the ground. I'll be right back. I was beginning to get impatient. I was exhausted by my efforts to become part of their lives, to make them realize who I was and what I was and how important they were to me.

And how important I must become to them. I went up to them. I put my head in his lap. I took one of her hands in mine. And I kissed it. Over and over. Then the door opened. Doctor? What is it? I hardly know how to tell you this. What is it? Your daughter is dead. No! Dead. She drowned herself. There's a little pool on the property. It's not deep. She...

She must have drowned herself purposely. I can't think how she managed it. She's dead. I'm so very sorry. Then I knew. The two who were still sitting there were not ghosts at all. They were people. Flesh and blood people. Real people. Very real now in their grief. They had come all this way to fetch their daughter home and she was dead.

She had drowned herself in a little pool. I looked at my hands. There was water on my hands. And my hair was drenched in water. So very sorry. I wish there were somethings. There's nothing, Doctor. It happens sometimes when a patient feels the beginnings of his own recovery. Starts to feel afraid of what may lie ahead.

I suppose. We see it rather often. It's hard to be sane. And they know it. We'll go home now, Doctor. You'll let us know when to come back and get her and take her home. The doctor nodded his head and the two people left. Slowly, walking slowly, out to the car, getting into the car and closing the door. I hardly knew what to do.

In what relationship did we stand now? If they were living people, what was I? Clearly I had been confused in my analysis of the whole situation. They were real people, and I, I was nothing more than a ghost. I still loved them, and I could not desert them. I slipped back through a back window and crouched down on the floor. They didn't say a word to each other all the way home.

I had no idea what I was to do next. The boy I had thought to be a ghost and now knew was as real as the other two came out to meet them. And my heart was wrung with pity when I saw the look on his face. He'd expected her to get out of the car, not just them. And I wanted to run to him and say, but I'm here, you see? I'm right here. I'm really here. Only, of course, I couldn't do that because I was only a ghost.

I've lived here for a whole year now. The house stays the same. I sleep every night in my pale blue room. Every night the bed is turned down and I crawl between the pretty sheets. The next day it is made up again. This summer the roses were more beautiful than ever. I would go out to the rose garden every morning at daybreak and pick a yellow one and put it at her place at the breakfast table. She thinks he does it.

And he lets her think so. Just this morning, I left a particularly beautiful one. Oh, Frederick. You've done it again. My yellow rose. Oh, that. I don't know how you manage. I never hear you sneak out. Well, you're always asleep. She loved them so. The yellow roses. Yes, I know. Frederick. Yes, love?

Do you feel sometimes that she's here in this house with us? Many times. So do I. I'm staying on. The boy has gone away to school and they really need me.

♪♪

I'll be back shortly. Yes, the more I think about it, the more certain I am that each of us not only needs a ghost, but has a ghost. We cannot see it or touch it or hear it, but it is there. And it keeps us company when there is no one else.

A ghost, perhaps, is no more than a memory of someone once well-loved. Our cast included Lois Nettleton, Carmen Matthews, Fred Gwynn, and Russell Horton. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now, a preview of our next tale. It's all right, Carl. It's just me. Allow Mr. Stevens here to look through the viewer.

Well, you are about to meet the man you resemble so closely. I was looking through a viewer that fitted to my eyes like the mask on a periscope or an old stereopticon. By some trick of complimenting mirrors, the entire room was revealed and somehow lighted at the same time. So that even though the drapes were drawn and the room shaded, every detail was as clear as bright daylight. Too clear. Too clear.

As I looked at the man sitting on a chair facing me, I could feel my stomach churn like I was going to be sick. I was literally frozen with horror as I finally saw why Durwood Drake had chosen to become a recluse. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by all state insurance companies. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre.

Until next time, pleasant dreams.

That's myfico.com

slash free or download the MyFICO app and discover the score lenders use most. That's MyFICO.com slash free.

Looking to buy your first car or home? Understanding your FICO score is key to achieving your life goals. Knowing your FICO scores helps you apply for loans with confidence and avoid surprises. With MyFICO, you get access to your FICO score, credit reports, 24-7 monitoring, and alerts on the go. Take the mystery out of your score and get your FICO score for free today.

Visit MyFICO.com slash free and discover the score lenders use most. Looking for a mortgage, credit card, or auto loan? Then you should know your FICO score. Did you know 90% of top lenders use FICO scores? Visit MyFICO.com slash free today to get your FICO score for free. MyFICO makes it easy to understand your credit with FICO scores, credit reports, and alerts. Visit MyFICO.com slash free. That's MyFICO.com

slash free or download the MyFICO app and discover the score lenders use most. That's MyFICO.com slash free.

Looking to buy your first car or home? Understanding your FICO score is key to achieving your life goals. Knowing your FICO scores helps you apply for loans with confidence and avoid surprises. With MyFICO, you get access to your FICO score, credit reports, 24-7 monitoring, and alerts on the go. Take the mystery out of your score and get your FICO score for free today.

Visit myfico.com slash free and discover the score lenders use most.

Looking for a mortgage, credit card, or auto loan? Then you should know your FICO score. Did you know 90% of top lenders use FICO scores? Visit myfico.com slash free today to get your FICO score for free. MyFICO makes it easy to understand your credit with FICO scores, credit reports, and alerts. Visit myfico.com slash free or download the MyFICO app and discover the score lenders use most.

Looking to buy your first car or home? Understanding your FICO score is key to achieving your life goals. Knowing your FICO scores helps you apply for loans with confidence and avoid surprises. With MyFICO, you get access to your FICO score, credit reports, 24-7 monitoring, and alerts on the go. Take the mystery out of your score and get your FICO score for free today.

Visit myfico.com slash free and discover the score lenders use most. Exploring Tomorrow. And now here is your guide to these adventures of the mind, John Campbell Jr. There's the old saying that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. You know, it isn't really power that corrupts, but immunity, immunity to punishment and control.

And every fool with a little power wants to achieve that immunity. Usually it's held that like attracts like. The two individuals with the same great fundamental characteristic will be normally attracted to each other. You know, this isn't necessarily so. It may not be true. You may have two people who don't like each other but are forced by the very nature of the fact that they have a unique characteristic.

To endure each other. Oops, just a little more. Oh, Alan, isn't it beautiful the way it bubbles and bubbles? Oh, Alan, let's have champagne every night on our honeymoon. You want to take a bath in it? I can arrange that, too. Oh, Alan, really? Pink champagne? Just as pink as your blushing right now. Oh, Alan. What's the matter? Do you think Mr. and Mrs. Alan Carville are going to live like the rest of the slobs? I tell you, baby... Alan...

What's wrong, Alan? Nothing. Alan. You look so funny all of a sudden. Get off my back. Thank heaven I found you. Why haven't you been answering me these last few days? Do I have to check in with you everything I do, every place I go? Alan? Oh, it's all right. I'm all right, Gene. Just leave me alone for a minute. Get out of my mind, Laurie. Get out, I tell you. I'll talk to you later. You'll talk to me now.

What are you doing with this child? What are you trying to hide from me? All right, all right, I'll get rid of her, then I can talk to you. Give me 20 or 30 minutes to take her home. I'll give you half an hour, that's all. And don't try to close up your mind and hide from me again. All right, all right, I say. Jeannie, Jeannie, it's all right. You went so white there all of a sudden.

Alan, honey, are you sick? No, no, it's just one of those migraine headaches of mine. Honey, look, I'd better take you home. Oh, honey. It's all right. I just need some sleep, that's all. Come on, let's get your coat. You'd better not come in, that old landlady. Oh, that's okay. Good night, baby.

Good night now. And get lots of sleep. Take care of your poor head. Call me in the morning. That's a deal. Good night, honey. Good night, Alan. Good night.

What makes you do things like that, Alan? You stuck with me every inch of the way, didn't you? How old is she? Sixteen? Seventeen. What's it to you? Oh, I have to be conscience for both of us. Thank you, sweet Lorraine. Who asked you to? You did, Alan. You always have. All these things you do are challenges to me to set right.

All your venom against a fate that made you one of the only two telepaths in the world is twisted against me, your only partner in this lonely land. You strike out at me because I'm like you, and because by the same chance that made us, I'm the stronger one. That's a lie. I can break loose from you any time. I... Let me go. I...

I can't breathe! I won't hurt you, Alan. I could never hurt you. Though I thank whoever or whatever's responsible for making us as we are, that it's me, not you, who has the additional power to reach out and move physical objects with my mind. If you would, you waste something like that and then feel good about it. What I could do with something like that. Why don't you leave me alone? Because I love you, Alan.

If you'd been a man with decent instincts, bound as we are together, we could have married and found what little happiness is possible for two like us in this world. But there's a twisted streak in you that wouldn't let you settle for that. Go ahead, play the little mother. You're no good for anything else. You didn't think so once, Alan. You're over the hill, baby. Face it. I've faced it, Alan. Have you...

Put him in. Can't you see you're getting worse? When we were just children together, before we'd even seen each other face to face, we used to talk to each other at night, clear across the city, mind to mind, about how someday we'd go out and find others like us. If you had the chance to find someone like us now, you wouldn't take it. You don't want others. You want to be the only one. Why not? Why not?

You've got a gun in your pocket right now. Don't you see the danger in all that? Don't you know what it can do to you? Don't try to scare me, Lauren. I'm not trying to scare you, Alan. A telepath living in a world of non-telepaths is not a normal person. He can't be. He has to walk a chalk line all the time to preserve his sanity. He can't afford inner conflicts or emotional violences or shocks.

What do you plan to do with that girl? What's the gun for? And what's that you're trying to hide right now, right under the surface of your mind? All right, you want to know, I'll tell you. I'm getting out. I'm getting away from this city and away from you and that girl goes with me. I'm going to take what I want, anything I want, and live like I deserve to and you can't stop me. Alan! Alan, answer me! Don't shut yourself off from me like that! Alan! Alan!

Exploring Tomorrow continues in just a moment. This is Bill Goodwin. You know, someone once said humor is the true democracy. And that's why we Americans can smile when we tell the stories of the legendary heroes who helped to build our country's great institutions and industries. Like Boleg Bill, hero of the tuna fishing industry.

Back in Provincetown, Massachusetts, they claimed that when it came to hauling in horse mackerel, as the Easterners call tuna, Bill could handle two gaffs at once and catch more than any six men put together. And they're still talking about the time Bill caught old slick britches, the biggest horse mackerel of them all. No one could ever get his hooks into slick britches who weighed 2,000 pounds and had a tail six feet long.

But bow-legged Bill promised to land him single-handed. He set out in his boat, toss-up, and when he spotted Slick Riches, he made a grab for him, but the tuna slipped through his hands. So Bill drove over the side, and before folks knew what had happened, Bill was sitting astride old Slick Riches, who was bucking like a bronco. He leaped almost a mile out of the water, but Bill hung on. All over the harbor, they went jumping and leaping, but still Bill hung on. Finally, Slick Riches gave one last leap over the toss-up, and then calmed down all the fight gone at him.

Bill steered him toward shore, but all of a sudden he headed him back out to sea, slapped the tuna's tail and jumped off. Now, folks were mighty disappointed when Slick Riches disappeared, but it was like Bill told them, there's nothing that'll break a cowhand's heart so quick as to find a critter with the rough all rode off at the first mount.

Yes, sir, it is a democracy which lets us tell the stories of such a legendary character as Boleg Bill with a twinkle in our eyes and a chuckle in our throats. And so long as we continue to laugh together as a people, ladies and gentlemen, we will live together as a nation. Telepathy has long seemed like a wonderful thing to have, a wonderful possession. But have you ever considered it in terms of the absolute end of privacy?

You know, explorers have found that if you put two men in one little cabin isolated far away from the rest of the world, they don't learn to like each other. They learn to hate each other. Yeah, sure. Did I wake you, honey? Oh, I thought you was going to watch the Late Late Show on Channel 2. Well, it's just a little past midnight.

Oh, I'm sorry I woke you, honey. I just felt like phoning. Hmm? No, it's quiet as a church. Been through the plant and the tool shop four times already. I was just going to check the offices and... Oh, now, come on. Now, stop worrying. Nobody knows about these night payroll deliveries.

Anyway, they've come and gone. The money's already in the safe. Sure. Sure, I will. What? That's a gun you feel in your back. You say goodbye and hang up fast. And don't sit around. No, no, no. It's all right. I just remembered I forgot to ring in. And I'd better hurry and do that right now. I'll call you back later. Goodbye.

All right, let's head for that safe over there. Now, move. Don't worry. I have a healthy respect for guns. Daddy's over there. I don't know what good it's going to do. I ain't got the combination. Shut up. Stand over there where I can watch you. Hey, you opened it right up. Who told you the combination?

The president of the company. Are you kidding? What is this, a gag of some kind? Look, if this is just a joke, mister... No! I didn't make... Think about jumping me, will you? Slob! Slob! Slob, that's all he was. Slob. Alan, please tell me what this is all about.

with a migraine headache and you call up and get me out in the middle of the night and keep drinking but you won't tell me what's the matter what's the matter that's a funny one come here come here come close i'm gonna tell you something oh you're hurting my arm listen to me you know something you don't have trees think

They think really long and slow and peaceful. And sometimes they take all winter just to think one little thought. Thinking? Oh, it isn't real thinking. It's just living, you know. You hear them living calm and quiet and slow. And cats.

Listen to me, baby. You know how cats think? I... I... No. Well, cats think sort of S-shaped, like a snake crawling. And dogs, you know, dogs are all excited. Up and down, you know, like a pogo stick. Even when they're dreaming, everything thinks. Do you know that, Jamie? Everything. All day long. Forever. Never. Everything goes on thinking. As long as it lives and when it dies.

What do you say, Jeannie?

You love me, don't you love me, baby? You said you'd always do anything I ever wanted. Well, this is what I want. Get out tonight. And don't worry about money. I've got lots of it. You have? Sure. Where did you get a lot of money all of a sudden? I'll tell you when we're on the road, okay? Well, answer me. Or I'll leave you behind here. Alan, you wouldn't go off and leave me. Of course not, honey. But I've got to go. There's no two choices about it. And I've got to go now. Now you're coming with me, aren't you? Alan!

One of the worst things about a conscience is that the darn thing is always going with you wherever you are. Alan had something other than a conscience, and running away didn't do much good. You know, telepathy has no distance limitations. Alan...

Alan. What? It's starting to get light. Alan, you never did tell me where you got the money. Not now, not now. Can't you see I'm out of my feet? We could stop and get a couple of hotel rooms somewhere. No, we've got to keep driving. But we're nearly a hundred miles out of town already. You keep saying we've got to keep driving, but I don't see why we couldn't stop for just a few hours. Oh, shut up, will you? Alan. You know, I could get out and take a bus back. Who needs...

I don't know what's wrong with you. You never used to be like this. Then last night... Well, just shut up! Alan. What? Nothing, nothing. Alan. I'm not turning back. Yes, you are, Alan. This time you're turning back even if I have to make you. Make me then. Alan, you're slowing down. She's making me. She's making me. Alan.

Well, Alan. Talk out loud. You look in pretty bad shape. Give me a cigarette. There's some on the desk. I'm glad you came right back here when I turned you around. Shows there's some hope. Now cut it out. What did you stop me for? That watchman. It was you, Alan, wasn't it? What watchman? Alan.

All right, all right. Yes, it was me. He was a throb, so he's dead. So what? The gun you beat him to death with is in your pocket right this minute. So what? So I'm going to have to make you go to the police and show them the gun and tell them. You can't do that by remote control. You have to go with me.

I'll go with you. And what will you tell them about how you happen to know all this? How about that? I will tell them. What about us? About me and you? About you? I don't want to... Are you crazy? Do you know what that would mean? Do you think they'd believe you?

And if they did what it'd be for the rest of your life, you'd be owned, Laurie. Owned! Guarded and locked away by them. The slobs, like a piece of machinery, made to do what they wanted you to do for them. You'd never be free again. All I ever wanted was what any woman wants. The chance to lead a normal life. Look at me, Alan. I'm not bad looking. I never was.

But the only man I could ever have been a normal wife to was you. And you never grew up. You've been a selfish little boy all your life, and I've paid for it. Why didn't you leave me alone? Just leave me alone. Leave you alone? Do you think you ever really wanted me to leave you alone? I was forced to love you the same way the only woman in the world would be forced to love the only man in the world. Well, now it's too late. I can't let you kill again. Then do it.

Go ahead, handcuff me with that mind of yours. Take me to the cops. Make them believe you. You think that'll stop me? Do you think there's any jail that can hold me, any guards that can keep me? Go ahead. You're the only force in this world that can chain me, and you can't watch me 24 hours a day. You've got to sleep sometimes and... Laurie. Laurie, you're choking. Laurie.

You would break loose, wouldn't you, Alan? You would kill again, in spite of all I could do to stop you. All right, you can breathe now. No, don't look at me like that. I'm not going to kill you. Even now, I can't do that. That gun of yours is in your inside pocket. Lift your right hand, Alan. Put it inside your coat. Now, take out the gun. Don't try to fight my will, Alan. You know it's no use.

Now, you will point it at me. No. No, Laurie, not you. Anyone but you. Not you, Laurie, not you. Alan, Alan, Alan, it's me. Jeannie. Darling, can't you hear me? Jeannie. Sweetheart.

Just try to move your finger or your eyes. Just move your eyes a little so I know you'll hear me. Jeannie, I can't move. I can't do anything. Help me. It's like being buried alive. I'm paralyzed. Help me. Laurie. Laurie, come back and help me. Laurie. Laurie.

And so, Alan had his wish fulfilled. Alan wanted immunity from consequences of his actions. There's only one way to achieve it, and he achieved it.

If you do nothing, if you have no actions, whatever, then you have immunity from consequences. And that's the only way. Otherwise, you're responsible for what you do, whether you like it or not. Join us for a fascinating adventure in Exploring Tomorrow.

Heard in our cast tonight were Mandel Kramer and Bryna Rayburn. Script was by Gordon Dixon. Produced and directed by Sanford Marshall here in New York. Bill Maher speaking.

Looking to buy your first car or home? Understanding your FICO score is key to achieving your life goals. Knowing your FICO scores helps you apply for loans with confidence and avoid surprises. With MyFICO, you get access to your FICO score, credit reports, 24-7 monitoring, and alerts on the go. Take the mystery out of your score and get your FICO score for free today.

Visit MyFICO.com slash free and discover the score lenders use most. Looking for a mortgage, credit card, or auto loan? Then you should know your FICO score. Did you know 90% of top lenders use FICO scores? Visit MyFICO.com slash free today to get your FICO score for free. MyFICO makes it easy to understand your credit with FICO scores, credit reports, and alerts. Visit MyFICO.com slash free. That's MyFICO.com

slash free or download the MyFICO app and discover the score lenders use most. That's MyFICO.com slash free. Set sail on Titanic, the hilarious international smash hit musical set to the iconic songs of Celine Dion. Find out what really happened to Jack and Rose on that fateful night in the Chicago premiere from Porchlight Music Theater. Get your tickets at BroadwayAndChicago.com.

Set sail on Titanic, the hilarious international smash hit musical set to the iconic songs of Celine Dion. Find out what really happened to Jack and Rose on that fateful night in the Chicago premiere from Porchlight Music Theater. Get your tickets at BroadwayAndChicago.com. If you're a lineman in charge of keeping the lights on, Grainger understands that you go to great lengths and sometimes heights to ensure the power is always flowing.

which is why you can count on Grainger for professional-grade products and next-day delivery so you have everything you need to get the job done. Call 1-800-GRAINGER, click Grainger.com, or just stop by. Grainger, for the ones who get it done.

Set sail on Titanic! The hilarious international smash hit musical set to the iconic songs of Celine Dion. Find out what really happened to Jack and Rose on that fateful night in the Chicago premiere from Porchlight Music Theatre. Get your tickets at BroadwayAndChicago.com. "Fantasy. Death is a savage deity." "Is that you, Dolores?" "Yes, Warner." "Don't stop playing."

I heard the music coming from the conservatory, so I stopped by. What are you playing? Just a simple melody of my own. So weird. I thought possibly you were playing a dirge. A dirge? Yes. For Andrews. I fear neither dirge nor prayers nor candles burned on the altar will do Andrews any good. Oh, Wanda, what made him do it? He was always so happy, so full of the love of life. Why did he do such a thing? He was blind.

He couldn't stand the thought of being without the use of his eyes, so... Yes, but if only... I cautioned him. Over and over again, I warned him to take care of his eyes. But he wouldn't listen to me. Now he's dead. Poor Andrews. I suppose you and James will postpone your marriage a while, Dolores. Yes, I think it best, don't you? It wouldn't be quite decent to have a funeral today and a wedding day after tomorrow, would it? I wouldn't permit it in my home.

And this is still my house, you remember. Oh, now, who's that? Yes, come in. All right, Alma, what is it? I beg your pardon, Miss Jelmus. All right, all right, out with it. Don't stand there stammering. Yes, Miss Jelmus. It's for Mr. Loris. Mr. Harvey's here. Oh, Jim said he'd drop by. Shall I show him in here, Mr. Loris? Yes, please do. Yes, ma'am. By the way, Alma. Yes, ma'am? How does your head feel today?

Not so good, ma'am. It ached me all night long. I didn't get much sleep to speak of. Perhaps you should go to a doctor, Alma. I did, Miss Dolores. Yesterday. He said there was nothing wrong with me, but I know better. My head hurts something fierce all the time. Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you, ma'am. I'll show Mr. Harvey right in. Hello. Hello, Jim. Dolores, my dear, you look tired. How are you, Miss Johns? Very well, thank you. Jim, I'm glad you stopped by.

We've rather had the doldrums around here the past day or so. Yes, I know. I thought I'd stop by now and be here for the funeral this afternoon. Poor Andrews. You loved him too, didn't you, Jim? Yes, dear. I guess I did. I've known Andrews almost as long as you have. Well, all I can say is I warned him again and again. He'd only listen to me. Oh, Annie, please. Jim...

Let's go outside and get some air. I've been in the house all day. All right, dear. You both better stay around close. I may need you. All right, Juana. We'll probably be in the garden very well. Oh, Jim. Yes? Remember about the lily pond. Oh, yes, of course I will. It's dangerous, you know. Be careful of it, Jim. Don't get too near to its edge. Yes, I'll remember. Come, dear. Thank you.

Jim. Yes, dear? What did she mean about the lily pond? Oh, don't you remember that the railing around the pond was taken down for repairs? Hasn't been replaced yet. Yes, I know, but it's been down for almost a month. Here, let's walk on the grass, shall we? Why does she remind you about it now? Well, she probably doesn't want us to fall into it and soil our pretty clothes. But she seems so insistent. She said it's dangerous for you to be careful of it.

For you not to go too near its edge. You, Jim. Not me. Oh, she meant both of us silly. She just addressed me because she wants me to take care of you. Does she? Why, of course she does. What do you mean? Jim, I've had the impression for a long time now that she doesn't want us to be married. Nonsense. She's delighted. No, she's not delighted. But Dolores... I've wanted to tell you this for a long time.

But I've hesitated to say anything. I thought I might have been mistaken. Now I know it's true. She hates you, Jim. Juana hates me? Why, of all the silly things I've ever heard of, Juana and I are great friends. Darling, you're wrong. Juana has no love for you. I don't know why. But she'll be perfectly delighted if you and I never marry. Dolores. Jim, I want to be married just as soon as we possibly can.

Then I want to go away from here. Away? Where, dear? I don't care where. Just so it's someplace else. Anywhere but here. But darling, I thought you loved this place. Love it? I despise it. Dolores. I do, Jim. Darling, I'm so upset. There's something terrible going on around here. I don't know what it is. But it was responsible for Andrew's death. Darling, how can you say that? Because I know. You know what? There was nothing wrong with Andrew's eyes.

What? No. Nothing at all wrong with them. But he went blind. The autopsy proved it. That's why... I know. He died blind, yes. But I went with him to an optometrist about a week ago. Andrews had perfect vision in both eyes. And no sign of defect or weakness. But, Dolores, that's not possible. I know, but it happened. But how? How, dear? I can't answer that. Oh, Jim, look out! Good Lord! Oh, dearest, the lily pool. You almost walked right into it. Yeah.

Yeah, I thought it was over farther to the east end of the garden. I don't know why we should be so frightened of it. It's quite shallow. Even if one of us did accidentally fall in, we'd only get a bit wet. Is that all that would happen? Jim, what do you mean? I wonder. Come on, dear. We'd best be getting back to the house. I want to brush up a bit before the crowd begins to drift in. Dolores, will you play the organ a while? I'd like some music.

Do you mind if I don't, Auntie? I'm rather tired. Look here, Dolores. How about a swim down on the beach? The moon's up. It's quite warm tonight. Jim, I think I'd like that. Certainly, if you're too tired to play the organ, you're too tired to swim. Oh, it'll be good for her, Miss Jonas. She needs some fresh air and exercise. Yes, Auntie. You don't mind so much, do you?

No, I suppose not. Good. Is there a suit in the men's quarters of the bathhouse I can use? Yes, yes. You'll find several there, James. Take your choice. Oh, fine. Come along, Delora. No, let's not go that way, Jim. Let's take the back door and cut through the garden to the bathhouse. All right, dear. We won't be long, Auntie. Just a plunge and we'll be right back. Very well. Oh, James. Yes, Miss Jarvis? Remember about the lily pond. Yes.

Oh, yes. All right. It's still quite dangerous, you know. Don't get too close to its edge. You may fall into it. Yes, all right. We'll be careful, Miss Johns. We can see it all right in the moonlight. Come on, Jim. There. You see? She keeps reminding you about the lily pod. Well, that just proves she doesn't want anything to happen to me. I told you she doesn't dislike me. Jim, don't you think for a moment she doesn't. She dislikes you terribly.

I think she even dislikes me. But why? Good heavens, Dolores. She took you in when you were a mere infant. Less than three years old. She's kept you. Clothes, a fine home, everything. Yes, I know. Until she... she hates me. Dolores, I don't understand. If you've known this all along, why didn't you say something to me about it? Because it's just recently she's changed. I don't know why she's changed, but she has. Well, dear, suppose we forget everything for a while. This has been a trying day for all of us.

Come on. I'll race you down to the bathhouse. Well, Jim must not be dressed yet. Plenty of time. Jim? Jim, do you hear me? Are you in the bathhouse, Jim? Jim? What's that over there? Surely it can... Oh, no. Jim? Jim? The lily pond. It's head beneath the water. The lily stems around his throat. Oh, Jim. Jim! Please, try not to think about it.

It's all over now, and there's nothing to be helped by thinking about it. But how did it ever happen to him? Dolores, you heard the coroner's verdict. Jim must have wandered over to the lily pond while waiting for you to finish dressing. He apparently stumbled and fell, striking his head on a rock, becoming unconscious. He fell with his head underwater, and it strangled him. Oh, it was so sudden. It was so sudden.

I'd only been a little quick addressing. I might have saved him. Don't think of that, dear. We can't help what's happened. Lie still, dear. I'll answer it. Hello? Yes, Mr. Evans? Yes? Very well. I'll come to your office right away. Yes, within the hour. Very well. Goodbye. Dolores, I'm sorry, but I'll have to leave you a while. That was my lawyer. There's some very important papers I must attend to immediately...

I'll be all right, Auntie. I'll send Alma in to take care of you. But I'm afraid she won't be of much help. She's been complaining of headache constantly. Night and day. Did you call me, Miss Dolores? Yes. Several times. You were so long answering. I'm sorry, Miss Dolores. I was downstairs. Can I do something for you, ma'am? Yes, Alma. I want the key to this room. That room, Miss Dolores? Yes. And I want it right away.

My aunt has kept this room locked for 18 years. She's always told me she wants no one in there because her father died in that room. Yes, ma'am. That's it. Nothing else. I'm not so sure. I intend to go inside that room now. Get me the key. Oh, Miss Delores, I beg you, ma'am. Don't go into that room. Whatever you do, ma'am, in the name of heaven, don't go into that room. Why not? Tell me, Alma. What's in there? It's frightful, ma'am. Please listen to me.

My head's a-splittin'. I'm a sick woman. I'm almost a dead woman. But with the life that's left in me, I plead with you not to enter that room. Alma, stop this nonsense. It's not nonsense, miss. There's worse than the devil in there. Alma, do you have the key? Answer me. Do you have the key to that room? Yes, ma'am. That I have. I stole it from Miss Charles a month ago. Then let me have it. Give it to me. At once. Yes.

I'll open the door. There you are, ma'am. I'll turn on the light. Why, this room is empty. Nothing here but an old table covered with a huge black cloth. That's all, miss. Come now. Let's shut off the light and lock the door. No. Wait a minute. What's on that table? Please, Miss Delores. Don't go near that table. I want to see. I ask you not to, Miss Delores. Dolls. Four little dolls.

each about 12 inches tall, lying here on the table. Please come away, Mr. Lewis. Good heavens. This doll looks exactly like... like Andrews. Look. Lying there on his back, with a common pin stuck squarely in the middle of each eye. He went blind, Mr. Lewis. Good heavens. An exact image of Jim Harvey, lying with his head submerged in a miniature lily pond. Mr. Harvey died in a lily pond, in the gardens.

This doll. Alma, it's an image of you with a pin stuck into its head. Oh, Miss Dolores, ma'am, my head's killing me with its aching. Alma, this fourth doll. It's you, Miss Dolores. With another pin stuck into the doll's body so it pierces the heart. Don't you feel pains in your heart, Miss Dolores? Alma, what in the world does all this mean? It's witchcraft.

Witchcraft? Black magic. But I don't understand. It's Miss John, your aunt. First, she convinced Andrews he was going blind. Then, she convinced Mr. Harvey he'd die in the lily pond. And now, she's trying to kill me with a headache. And you, with a heart attack. But how? How? They use it where she came from, Miss. Where she came from years ago. Where was that? Haiti. Haiti.

Haiti? Yes. When you've got an enemy in Haiti, you want to get rid of him. You make a doll that looks like him. You put hair from his head on the doll's head. Cloth from his clothes for the doll's clothes. Then you stick a pin in the part of the enemy you want to make hurt. And it works. Alma. It does, Miss Dolores. Look at Andrews. Blind because of the hex. Look at Mr. Harvey. Dead in the lily pond. Look at me.

Me with my terrible headache. And the pin sticking in the head of that doll. We'll pull out the pin. Oh, no, don't. If you do that, I'm sure to die right away. Alma, tell me how you know all this. I've been listening, Miss Dolores. And watching for years. I've been watching and listening. Oh, Miss Dolores. Alma. Alma, what's wrong? Alma, speak to me. Are you all right? Alma. Alma.

She's dead. Mr. Lawrence, you feeling better? Yes, much. How did I get here in my bed, doctor? Your aunt found you here, unconscious. Then I did manage to get here before I fainted. Have you found Alma? Yes, poor girl. Dead. Brain hemorrhage. Brain hemorrhage? Yes. Where did you find her, doctor? In her room. She must have died in her sleep.

No. No, she didn't die in her bed. My aunt must have placed her there. Dolores, you know the truth. Do you, Dr. Seabrook? I've known it for years. I've been watching one of your aunt for years. When Andrus died, I became suspicious. When your fiancé perished in the lily pond, I was convinced. Convinced that one of them was using her ancient jungle powers. Her what? Let me tell you a story.

She was married to a wealthy plantation owner in Haiti about 18 years ago. One day, she decided to rid herself of him. So, she fed him poison. When he realized what she had done to him, he went off into the jungle to die. But first, he made a will, leaving all his money and property to the baby daughter of his closest friend...

A man who died of jungle fever and whose baby had been taken to America by friends. Wallace's husband left his fortune to that baby girl. That girl, my dear, was you. Before the poisoned man died, he sought out a jungle witch doctor and had him make a charm. It was a doll-like image of the woman who had poisoned him.

He took a lock of her hair from where he'd always carried it in a gold locket and the hair became the doll's hair. Then he took a long needle, dipped it in the most potent poison and plunged that needle again and again into the body of the doll image. The poison was one that brings about instant and complete paralysis of the human muscles. Paralysis? Yes.

It's a poison well known in Haiti. He... he cast a spell upon her? Just as she's been casting spells on us? Precisely. Her spells were effective. His wasn't. No spell is effective unless the victim is made aware of its existence. Just a few moments ago, I told your aunt the same story I've told you. You mean...

You told her about the spell that was cast upon her years ago? In an offhand manner. I passed it on to her. It was just a story I'd heard from a friend of mine in Haiti. I pretended I didn't know that she was involved. Where is she now? You feel like getting up? Yes, yes, I'm all right. This door leads to your aunt's room, doesn't it? Yes, it's not locked.

Is she in here? Yes, she's in there. Oh, she's ill. Aunt Juana, Juana. Doctor, look at her. The spell she cast upon you is broken now. Your aunt is dead. But look at her. Yes, she died instantly of complete paralysis. Death is a savage thing.

Dark Fantasy. You have heard Death is a Savage Deity, an original tale of dark fantasy by Scott Bishop, based upon Mr. Bishop's own novel of the same title. Death is a Savage Deity included Eleanor Naylor-Coran as Dolores, Ben Morris, who was James Harvey, Georgiana Cook played Juana, Jesse Lee Fulton was Alma, and Fred Wayne was Dr. Seabrook. Next Friday at this same time...

We will bring you another exciting and unusual tale of dark fantasy created by Scott Bishop. A weird adventure titled The Sea Phantom. Story of an ancient Spanish ghost ship. Dark fantasy originates in the studios of WKY Oklahoma City. Tom Paxton speaking. This is the National Broadcasting Company.

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 audiobook's page at WeirdDarkness.com Hold the kaleidoscope to your eye. Peer inside.

One twist changes everything. A woman awakens in a grotesque, human-sized arcade game. A mysterious cigar box purchased at a farmer's market releases an ancient djinn who demands a replacement prisoner. An elderly woman possesses the terrifying power to inflict pain through handmade dolls.

An exclusive restaurant's sinister secret menu includes murder-for-hire and harvested organs. With each turn through these 20 tales, Reddit NoSleep favorite AP Royal reshapes reality, creating dazzling patterns of horror that entrance as they terrify.

The Kaleidoscope, 20 Terrifying Tales of Horror and the Supernatural by A.P. Royal, narrated by Darren Marlar. Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com.

The Diary of Faith. Faith plays no favorites. It could happen to you. The Diary of Faith.

Book 97, page 854. In the Diary of Faith. Yes, here it is. The name Walter Vincent, occupation chemist. Yes, Walter, for four years you have been an employee of the Randall Foundation...

for scientific research. And in that time, you have come to realize how wrong you were. You select science as a life work. Although you are diligent and accurate, you lack inventiveness. And many times during recent months, your wife Carol has pointed out in no uncertain terms, a long and fruitless road which lies ahead of you. This realization brought you to temptation.

And a choice. Now for a moment. I, Fate, look ahead to a single instant in your life.

An instant of decision. I don't intend to give up everything now, Walter, no matter what it means. Good. We still have a chance if we work together. You see, Kramer is going to give Philip that letter at the masquerade. I don't understand. And that means just one thing. I'll have to go to the masquerade in his place. And I'll have to get rid of Philip. In that decision, Walter Vincent, you will find your goal...

and your destruction. Soon it will be time for a further entry under your name. When I have written, I will read from the record of Walter Vincent in the Diary of Faith. ♪♪

In the life of Walter Vincent, an infamous decision was made. Yet in the final analysis, it was a little thing, seemingly insignificant, that determined the inevitable outcome. It is ever thus. Remember, Walter Vincent, where it all started? You were driving home from the funeral of Professor Rudolph Tigman, an associate of the Foundation, who had died suddenly of a heart attack.

Your wife and Phillip Webb, also a chemist at the Foundation, were talking as you drove through the heavy rain.

He was a great scientist, old Tigran. The Foundation is certainly going to miss him. Strange, isn't it? How suddenly and unexpectedly it can happen. Just like that, and it's all over. Yeah, that's right, Carol. I only hope I can achieve half as much in my life as he did in his. I'd consider it a lifetime well spent. What?

How can you say that, Philip? Professor Tagman was a lonely old man. He never really lived in his whole life. He never had any money or fun. Just work and more work. That's all he knew. Yes, but look at all the splendid things he accomplished. And where did that get him? I bet he wished plenty of times he'd enjoyed life more as he went along...

Believe me, I'm not going to stake my happiness on a future I may never see. Oh, excuse me, Carol. This next corner will be fine, Walter. Oh, okay, Phil. Glad to drive you on home, though. No, thanks. But there is one thing. I'm going out to Teichman's lab tomorrow, and I'd appreciate it if you'd come along and sort of help me put his things in order out there. Why, sure, Phil. Glad to. Fine. See you tomorrow, then. Goodbye. Goodbye. Walter, I meant what I said about that future.

I'm completely fed up with the way we live. Oh, Carol, darling, don't talk like that. We'll get our chance one of these days. One of these days can be a long, long time. I'm not going to wait much longer. Well, you won't have to, honey. With Teichman gone, there are openings all down the line. And I'm almost a cinch to head my department. Well, we'll see, Walter. We'll see. THE END

Yes, Walter. The pressing impatience in Carol's heart is like a whip to your ambition. Because you'd do anything to make her happy. But the next morning, when the promotions were announced, the one you expected went to Philip. It was a humiliating shock to you.

And you knew how Carol would take it. By the time you arrived at Tigman's remote laboratory, you had regained control of yourself. And nothing was said of the promotion as you helped Philip pack the clutter of apparatus, supplies, and papers. And then, Walter, a little thing happened. I guess you can get most of that stuff in this box, Walter? Yes, I think so.

By the way, what was Togman working on, Phil? Do you know? I have no idea. I used to be his assistant, but for the last six months, they had me back in the office.

I hope there's something in these papers that'll tell us. Yeah. Well, I'll make a list of everything I put in this box. Fine. I'll go get something to carry the books in. Yeah. Oh, blast it anyway. What happened? Oh, my penned leek. I've smeared ink all over. Oh, there's probably a blotter in that bottom drawer of the desk. Be back in a minute. You opened the desk drawer, Walter.

As you searched for a blotter, your eyes fell on something else. Something destined to change your entire life. A notebook. At one glance, you realized what was in it. The results of the last six months of intense research by the great Tideman. A completely revolutionary method of cracking crude oil. You heard Philip returning, and quickly, you slipped the notebook into your pocket.

and turned to face him. Oh, by the way, Phil, I haven't congratulated you on your promotion yet. I think it's great. Thanks, Walter. I appreciate that. It was between us, you know, and...

Well, I thought maybe you'd... Oh, I'd resent it? No, no, not me. You make a better executive than I anyway. I'd be lost out of the lab. Oh, thank you, Walter. I'm taking my vacation soon, and when I get back, let's get together, huh? Sure. Oh, by the way, what are you working on, Walter? Petroleum. Yes, and I think I may have something, too. Don't say anything about it, Phil. You see, I'm not sure yet, but if I'm on the right track, it'll be big.

Very big. Yes, Walter. Because of a leaking fountain pen, you alone had found Tigman's notebook. You could have turned it over to the Foundation, but you had other ideas. In the days that passed, you made certain that nowhere else among Tigman's papers was there a hint of what he had been working on.

You checked and tested his formula. It was complete and accurate. Then, at last, you were ready. The startling announcement came out that you, Walter Vincent, had devised a new and revolutionary method for refining crude oil. This is amazing, Walter. As the director of the Randall Foundation, I congratulate you.

And leave it to me, my boy. I'll see to it that you get a position at once where you can really exercise your ability. Well, thank you, Dr. Kramer. And congratulations, Walter. Thank you. That was great publicity for the outfit. And say, I want you to pose with Dr. Kramer here, and then we'll get some individual portraits and matching shots of you in the lab, too. You know, the papers are going to eat this up. Woo-hoo!

Yes, just three short weeks after you had stolen Professor Tigeman's notebook, Walter, your world was completely changed. You had a new job at more than double your old salary. You were known in scientific circles as a very promising young man. And Carol, of course, was delighted.

But the change, Walter, had been brought about by your choice for evil. And already forces were gathering against you, even as you relished your newfound glory. And Carol chattered happily about her forthcoming party.

another little thing happens. Oh, Walter, this will be the first party we've gone to in years where I can really feel like somebody. Yes, I know. Well, I told you our break would come one day. Oh, I'm glad it's a masquerade. I've got the most wonderful idea for a costume. Marie Andernach. But, oh, well, it's going to be expensive. Oh, darling, I don't care if it is. We can afford it now, and if it'll make you happy, you... Oh, I'll get it, Carol.

Hello? Walter Vincent speaking. This is Dr. Freeman, Walter. Do you know when Philip Webb is coming back from his vacation? Oh, the day after tomorrow, I think, Doctor. Oh, that's too bad. Why? What's the matter, Doctor? Well, I'm leaving town tonight and I wanted to see him before I left. A very strange thing just happened, Walter. It was like getting a message from the grave. A message from the grave?

What do you mean, doctor? An envelope addressed to Philip just arrived. It was evidently lost in the mail. You see, it's from Professor Tyton. It must be about the work he was doing when he died. Yes, Walter. A little thing. A misaddressed envelope. A letter lost in the mail. Now suddenly loomed up in your life as a huge stumbling block.

It would topple your whole world in the ruin. You knew that somehow you had to get that letter or you were trapped. But you realized that the first thing you had to do was tell Carol. Tell her the whole thing. You had to know if you could depend on her. And that's the way it happened, Carol. That's the whole story.

Well, don't just stand there. Say something. It's such a shock. I don't know what to say. You...

You've got to get that letter, Walter. Some way, you've got to get it. That's what I wanted you to say, Carol. I had to know if I could count on your help. I don't intend to give up everything now, Walter. No matter what it means. Good. We still have a chance, if we work together. You see, Kramer's going to give Philip that letter at the dance. I don't understand, Walter. And that means one thing. I'll have to go to the masquerade in his place. And I'll have to get rid of Philip. Philip.

Yes, Walter. Because of a fountain pen that leaked. A little thing. You were faced with a decision. And your choice was for evil. Now because of another little thing. A misaddressed envelope. You were threatened with exposure and disgrace. A net of circumstances was closing around you. Soon there would be no escape.

Soon, I will write again under your name in the Diary of Faith. It was three days later, three tense, worried days later, that you, Walter, finally added the last detail to your method of murder. Philip had returned from his vacation, and you had talked to him.

Then you explained your scheme to Carol. Oh, Walter, I'm afraid. Are you sure there's no other way? Positive. I've looked for that letter every place I possibly could since Crane has been gone. I can't find it. There's nothing else we can do. All right, Walter. Now listen, I've talked to Philip. He's going to the Masquerade as Pinocchio. He's got a mask that covers the whole head, and it'll fit me. I told him today that I had to go to New York, so he thinks you're going to the dance with him.

I want to be sure a lot of people know that. That'll be easy.

Then what? Saturday evening, I'll get on the train here and get off on the stops at Maplewood. You meet me there with the car. And bring you back here? Yes. Then I'll take care of Philip. We'll go to the dance, get the letter from Kramer, and leave. I'll catch a plane. I've already got the reservation under the name of Jones. I'll overtake the train and get back on it. All you know is that Phil was a little high when he took you home. Oh, Walter, what if something goes wrong? Nothing can go wrong, I tell you. Not if we're careful and use our heads. The hardest time will be the dance.

We'll really have to play our parts there. And play them well. Yes, Walter. From now on, you'd have to play a part. And play it well. For murder is a hazardous game. Where they would do the most good, you'd drop casual bits of information about your trip to New York.

and that Philip was escorting Carol to the dance. And finally, on Saturday night, you even fixed it so David Sloan, the Foundation's public relations man, was at the station with Carol to see you off.

So if you can drop in and see him, it'll be worth a feature story in his new magazine. Well, I'll certainly try, David. It all depends on how much time I have. Well, Mr. Vincent, busy or not, you better find time somewhere to write me every day. Understand? Sorry you're going to miss that masquerade tonight, old boy. That's the one thing nobody really should miss. Don't I know it.

and I'm sending Carol with Philip Webb. Pinocchio and Marie Antoinette should make quite a pair. Hey, you think I can trust them together? I think so. Pinocchio's made of wood, you know. Yes, but there are no strings on him either. I'll keep an eye on them, Walter. Have a good time in the city and hurry back. I will, David.

Better get aboard, Carol. Now don't forget, one block south of the station at Maplewood. And don't be late. I won't, don't worry. I'll get rid of David and leave right away. As the train traveled a few miles to Maplewood, you talked with the porter about your compartment, tipped him lavishly, spoke to the conductor, and made certain that several of the passengers were aware of your presence.

and would remember you. Then as the train pulled to a stop in Maplewood, you stepped off quickly, quietly, melded into the crowd, and a few minutes later you were with Carol in your car, speeding back the way you had come.

Better slow down a little, Carol. We have to hurry, Walter. Slow down, I said. All we need right now is to be picked up for speeding. That'll fix things fine. When we get to Phillips, shall I wait for you? No. Go on home and put on your costume. I'll pick you up in his car. All right. We're almost there. It's down on the next block. Okay, turn here and stop. I'll walk the rest of the way. Okay.

Walter. What? Walter, be careful. Don't worry. This will be easy. The tough part's going to be that dance afterwards, and don't forget that for a minute. Now go on home and get dressed. I've got to get going. Walter.

What is... Why, Walter, I thought you were on your way to New York. I'm supposed to be, uh...

You, uh, you're still going to the dance, aren't you? Of course. I'm just dressing now. Well, let me in, Philip. I've got to talk to you. Sure, come in. What is it, Waldo? What's wrong? Is, uh, is anyone else here now? No. Waldo, what's the matter? Philip, uh, are you going to be alone tomorrow? Why, yes. Yes, I am. All day? You're not expecting anyone? Not going out? No, not until nine tomorrow night. Why? Oh, that's fine, fine.

Philip, I'm going to let you in. A bad one. I want to stay here tonight. Could you help me out? Now, wait a minute. I think you'd better start at the beginning and tell me all about it. All right, but... Oh, is that whiskey there in the decanter? I really need a drink, Phil. I'll get it for you. I've never seen you like this, Walter. You're in bad shape. Here you are. Thanks.

Well, Philip, it's like this. Oh, the glass. I'm sorry, Phil. It slipped. Oh, forget it. You'd better sit down, Walter. I'll pick up the pieces. It's nothing. Go on. Sit down, Walter. Walter, the poker. What are you... Yes, Walter. Killing Philip was simple.

For a moment you stared down at him, lying dead in front of his fireplace. Then you moved quick. You took his keys from his pocket, set his watch ahead to midnight and smashed the crystal. Arranged the room to look as if he had fallen and struck his head while replacing a light bulb in the chandelier. Then you entered his bedroom. When you came out again, you were Philip Webb, fully dressed in the bizarre costume of Pinocchio.

A few minutes later in Philip's car, you picked up Carol and drove to the masquerade. Walter, are you sure everything's all right? You didn't make any mistakes? No, no, I didn't. Now stop worrying me, will you?

You keep watching me in there, and just as soon as I get that letter from Dr. Cramer, you fake a headache so we can leave. All right. And don't let me get stuck with anybody where I have to talk too much. I won't. All right. We'd better go on in. And for heaven's sake, act like nothing's happened. Everything depends on this now.

Well, I'll be. Pinocchio, you old rascal. Get up terrific. Oh, you like it? Bill, that's a wonderful costume. I got to get a picture of that one. What a head and what a face. I told him it was going to be the best in the place. That's great, Carol. It really is. Say, you're rather pretty good yourself, Marie Antoinette. Thank you. It's sure too bad old Walter had to miss this party. We're really going to have a time tonight. I know.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

Kramer hasn't shown up yet, Carol. But he should be here any minute. How am I doing? Heard you comment? You're doing fine. I don't think anybody suspects a thing. Just keep it up. Don't worry, I will. We can't slip now. Oh, Philip. Philip. Pardon me, folks. Phil, Dr. Kramer just came in. He wants to see you a minute. He's back there in the corner. Oh, thanks a lot, David. I'll go right away. I'll wait for you here, Philip.

Well, well, well, well. Hello there, Philip, or should I say Pinocchio. That certainly is a fine costume. Oh, hello, Dr. Kramer. What I wanted to see you about, Philip, is a letter. It was lost in the mail, I presume. You see, it's for you from Professor Tideman. From Tideman?

Yes, I have it here. If you want it now, I can just as easily keep it until Monday. No, no, I'll take it now, Doctor, and thank you very much. Oh, Philip. Excuse me, Doctor. Yes, Carol? I'm sorry, but my head is splitting. Would you mind taking me home? Oh, that's too bad, Carol. Of course not. Come along. Come along.

I've got it, Terry. I've got the letter. Now nobody will ever know. Now we're set for life. Yes, Walter, it was all over now. You had the letter. The perfect alibi for murder. All you had to do was leave the dance, get back on the train, and you were safe.

But take heed, you who listen, lest you think fate unjust, a conspirator in evil. In a few moments, I will write for the last time under the name Walter Vincent. When I have written, I will read from the diary of fate. Yes, Walter. Yes, Walter.

As you and Carol moved toward the door of the ballroom, you were confident that your masquerade had been successful. Yes, your impersonation of Philip Webb had been perfect. And now safety lay only a few feet away. But then, Walter...

Another little thing happened. Let's get going, Carl. Oh! Oh, my heel. Carl, what's the matter? The heel of my slipper broke and caught my skirt. Let me get it. Oh.

Attention, ladies and gentlemen. Here's the high fun of the evening. Yes, friends, this has been a wonderful party. And now, hey, hey, wait a minute. Don't let that Pinocchio get away. I've got a big surprise for you. You can't leave now. I'm going to leave. The judges committee has selected the outstanding masquerader of the evening, none other than...

Pinocchio! Now, folks, it's midnight. And you're first, my boy, so remove your mask, Pinocchio, and take a bow, Mr. Philip Webb. Remove my mask? No! No! He's better. We'll give you a hand, Phil. No! No! I got it off. Why, it's not Phil Webb. It's Walter Vincent. Yes, Walter. Yes, Walter.

Your masquerade was perfect, so perfect that you won first prize and destroyed your own alibi. And now, as the seconds tick away inexorably toward the moment of your execution for murder, your wife Carol, for her part in the crime, sits alone in her prison cell, waiting hopelessly for an empty future.

And now it is time to close the book. Another entry has been duly noted on the pages of eternity, and justice has been served. In the case of Walter Vincent, as in the cases of all mortals, I, fate, am but the instrument of a plan. And the countless little things that happen are the tools with which I work. Because of a fountain pen that leaked, this man, Walter Vincent...

was given an opportunity, and he chose for evil. Then, because the heel of a slipper broke, and delayed his escape for a few critical seconds, I, Faith, brought him to justice. Ponder well the moral, you who listen, and remember...

There is a page for you in the Diary of Fate. The cast included Herbert Litton, Tom Brown, Gloria Blondell, Peter Leeds, John Arthur, Ray Erlenborn, Ivan Dittmars, and Hal Sawyer.

Diary of Fate is a Larry Finley transcription. Brought to you from Hollywood. ♪♪

The End

♪♪

Oh

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

Monsters, myths, mysteries, mirth, and more every Monday with Mind of Marlar. I like alliteration, can you tell? You can find a list of where you can subscribe to the podcast at weirddarkness.com under the menu tab for podcasts. This week we celebrate Candlemas, an ancient festival that should bring light. But who knows what rituals lurk beneath our Christian celebrations, what pagan rites lie close to the surface of our lives.

David and Ellen knew. They were happily married and loved their daughter too. But can this love be more dangerous than they know? Today, at this season of the year, I bring to you the story of the dispossessed daughter. Shh now. Good night. Good night. Good night, Jane. God bless. Good night, Jenny. Ellen. Shh. Good night. Baby alarm.

You haven't switched at all. Oh, right. Good night, Jane. Is she asleep? Of course. Supper time, then. Ellen, I wish you wouldn't do that. Do what? Ginny. You know I don't like it. She's still there, love. Somewhere. I can't pretend. It's... What? Unhealthy. Not for me. I can't deny her. But you dragged Jane into it. It's not fair. I'm not doing that. Supper time. Ellen...

I'm sorry, David. It's how I am. Dark out there. That's the country for you. I never expected it to be so total. I thought that was what we moved for. Peace and quiet for the children. Child. Never expected it to be quite so dark without street lighting. No wonder Peg and Matt were so superstitious. I can just see the church spire, I think. It's no good. I'm a city boy.

I need neon. We can't move now. Ellie. Listening device. Have you switched on the receiver? Why can't we? Switch it on. Don't know why we bother. She never wakes. You know Sean and Erica have got one? Mm-hmm. He reckons the man in the shop told him that some people have been picking each other up on it. Each other's babies? No, each other. Arguing, in this case. There were two couples in Abergavenny living next door to one another.

Both had babies and both had listening devices. But the first couple could hear the second couple having an argument. How? Well, the houses were close and the receiver in the first couple's house was picking up the transmitter from the other couple. And they were arguing. In the baby's room? What? Well, they must have been arguing in the baby's room for their transmitter to transmit the argument. Yes. Doesn't sound very likely. Well, that's what Sean says.

People don't usually have rows in front of the kids. We don't. Doesn't mean other people don't. I'm going to sleep now. Ellen. I'm tired, David. You're always tired. I do go out to work to keep you two. Did I ask you to? No. What is this about, David? Really about? It's not about anything. Oh, no? Ellie. Sleep, David. PHONE RINGS

What's that? I don't know. It's coming from her room. Yes. I'll go and see. Jane? Janie? You OK? Janie? Here. Come on. Go to sleep. Is she all right? Yeah, it's fine. She's awake. Just staring at the wall. Staring? At the wall. Didn't look unhappy or anything. Just staring. Thinking, I suppose.

But she always sleeps on her back. She's definitely going to be bright, that baby. We put her down on her back. Yeah, she must have turned over. Well, not bad for three months. It's not unusual. No? Erica's baby began to turn over at three months, I remember Sean saying. I don't. It's not unusual, David. OK? OK. There, Janie. Nice spot, isn't it? It's quiet.

Peaceful. You don't care, do you? Hello. Oh, hello. I'm sorry. Am I disturbing you? No. I've just noticed that's a small grave. I'm not intruding, am I? No, not at all. Private grief, I... That's okay. We were just saying hello. Of course. Imogen Meyer Pritchard. That's a beautiful name. Jane's sister. Oh, I see.

Died just a year ago. Yes. That's sad. Jane here would have had an elder sister, wouldn't you love? She'd be 15 months now. Yes, almost exactly 12 months between. And this is Jane Elisa. Yes. How did you know her name? Parish records. I'm attached to St. Nicholas's. Oh, I see. Russell Williams. I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm new to the parish. Ah, right. David Pritchard. Mm.

I begin my ministry on Candlemass. Very appropriate. Sorry? February the 2nd, tomorrow. Oh, I see. I'm afraid we're not regular attenders. I come occasionally. Alan stays and looks after Janie. But St Nick's allows children. Yes, I know. Well, Alan's not been one for church since Imogen. She was the age Janie is now. Three months. It's not much of a life. Yes, yes.

Ellen hasn't come to terms with it. She found it, finds it, difficult to forgive. That probably sounds presumptuous. No. No more of us believe in the Manichean universe than Synod would have you believe. What, sorry? That good and evil are still fighting for possession of this world. Even the clergy find it hard to reconcile everything to a loving God. Yes. Perhaps I could call, speak to her.

If we can find the right opportunity. Are you thinking of having Jane Elisa christened? We haven't got round to talking about it, I'm afraid. We were going to have Imogen baptised and didn't. It's a sore subject. It worries you? I have thoughts of her being in limbo, yes. A state which is neither heaven nor hell. A place for unplaced souls awaiting release. These old myths were very powerful.

Does the church still believe that? Oh, the church likes to think itself more enlightened now. And is it? No generation thinks itself less enlightened than the one before. And you still have Jane Elisa? Yes. She's a good girl, isn't she? Well, you know, I've got her a lot of the time. Sleeps through the night? Yes, almost without phone. Doesn't seem to cry either. Well, no. Only when she's hungry, and not much then.

Extraordinary. You're very blessed. Doesn't always feel like that. Not today. No, I understand. The anniversary of a child's death. Still, it's good you bring Jane Elisa to see her sister. You don't think that's odd? Not at all. I'm sure Imogen watches over this one. I like to think she's at peace. Of course you do. A dead, a happier dead, I think. No, she's fine. We've been for a walk.

Down to the church. We took some flowers. She liked the red ones best. No, Jane. Silly. Misses you, of course. No, she does. Okay. I'm making a style of lunch now. What time do you reckon you'll be back? Can't you make it before? You could give her supper. It's for me too, you know. I need you here sometime. It's a year today, you know. Okay. Now then. Jane and Lisa?

Your mother works too hard. She should be here. Damn, blessed pipes. Welsh bloody water. Damn. Sleep through that if you can, Janie. Jane? Everything okay, love? Jane?

I don't get it. I just... What the hell is going on? So, I went back upstairs. Nothing. Absolutely quiet. And Jane? Fine. No more wine? No. You're sure she was fine? Well, she had her face turned to the wall again, but who can blame her? David! Well, it's not surprising with all that racket going on. I'm taking that thing back on Monday. You think it's the listening device? Of course. Well, I hope so. What do you mean?

Why does she do it? What? Why does she keep turning away? She's not turning away. She's just a baby. They do that sort of thing. Don't hold it against her. So what's causing that noise? Just the baby alarm. It picked up a noise and, I don't know, kept it going. How? I don't know. Short circuits, overloaded capacitors. Got any other suggestions? Sleep well, Jane.

Sleep well, Ginny. Is she still asleep? Yes. Hasn't stayed all evening, by the look of it. She looked... What? Like Gin... Like Imogen. Just now? Yes. Well, they do look similar. Inevitable, I suppose. Same age? Yes. Different temperaments, of course. What's the matter? What? You're so tense. I'm tired. I'm not surprised. You're never here. Oh, stop it, David. For God's sake. I'm tired.

It's a year ago tonight. I know. Tonight. Ellie. No, David. What? No. I'm only trying to be of some comfort. Can't we even do that now? A year ago tonight, Imogen died, and for all we know, Jane was conceived at the same time. We don't know that. I do. Oh, for heaven's sake, Ellie. What? You must stop torturing us with the past, please. She's not past. Not for me. Damn. Who can that be? Hello? Hello?

It's funny. Stop it, for God's sake. It won't stop. What do you mean? I'm trying to stop it. It won't. Disconnect it, then. I'm trying to disconnect it. What on earth's going on? Janie! Nothing. Just like before. Like this afternoon. Jane. She's all right. But she's staring at the wall again. But she's all right. If you call that all right...

She should be crying. She should be crying. What's the matter with you, you stupid child? Don't. Don't. Come on. Come out of here. She's fine. It's just that silly listening device. I'm going to unplug it. Have you noticed the room? It's very warm. No. Can't be poltergeist, eh? Don't joke. I'm not. I was just thinking that they're supposed to take human warmth to... What is it?

Manifest themselves? David, I don't want to know. OK. Will you stay with her? We both will. Do you mind if I open the window? It's very hot in here. Yes. OK. Funny. What is it? The window, it's stuck. It's not budging at all. No, it's... My God. What's the matter? The window's solid. Like it's fused together. Like it's just one piece of wood. What?

The door. What? Hold it. Yes. Don't let it go under any circumstances, okay? Yes. David, don't go. I've got to ring someone, okay? We've got to get to the bottom of what's happening. And don't close the door. Who? What? Who are you ringing? Well, the vicar, I suppose. No. Try the doctor. We're not ill. I trust the doctor. Okay, you trust the doctor, but this isn't something you can treat with pills and sedatives. Yes.

The house is haunted. We need a priest. Don't be ridiculous. Well, isn't that what's worrying you? Isn't it? All right. Just don't expect me to believe any of that. What? The phone's not working. Well, I'll plug it in and try. Maybe it's not that warm. It's okay, Jane. It's all right now, love. It's working fine. I'm going to the vicar now. Oh, David. What's the matter?

Just then, in the cot. No, it couldn't have been. What? There were two of them, side by side. When did he say? He said someone had come straight away. Don't you think we should move her into our room? I asked him that. He said it was best not to wake her in case. She looks so peaceful, doesn't she? Yes. Like Imogen. I'm frightened. She'll be fine. You don't understand. What? She's under threat.

Jane. David, I'm sure she is. What is all this otherwise? Don't worry, I'll go and let him in. I'm sorry, Jane. Oh, hello. Hello. You weren't expecting me. No, well, it hadn't connected. Come in, come in. Thank you. They said at the vicarage someone will be round. I didn't think... We often have trouble at this time of the year. Sorry? Candlemasse.

Don't worry. Oh, you mean... An old pagan festival. Good Lord. Oh, that's something of a relief, I suppose. We're so cut off here. Well, you'd better come up. Thank you. Ellen? This is Reverend Russell Williams. We met this morning. Mr Williams, my wife, Ellen. Hello, Mrs Pritchard. I'm here to assist. Ellen? Ellen? I don't want any part of this. Ellen? It's all right, Mrs Pritchard. Ellen? Ellen?

I'm sorry, but thank you for coming. No problem. Your husband's told me of the events. Is she in danger? Not yet, no, not immediately. How do you know? The kind of phenomena Mr Pritchard's explained to me are like first signs, disturbances in the air that can affect people finely attuned to atmospheres. Electrical discharges are not uncommon. And what about the window? To seal in the flames of hell, I imagine. So you believe there is something going on? Don't you?

But you said it being candlemas, people got silly, scared themselves. Candlemas? Not quite. The Christian festival that begins tomorrow was imposed on a pagan rite. It's the church that's inverted a previous ritual and turned it to God. What we call diabolism is displaced paganism after all. Thus spirits not assigned to God are more likely to be abroad on pagan festivals. That's what we used to think.

However, some still believe that the devil collects souls promised to him on this night. David, make him go. Surely you don't believe that, do you? Let's say I don't disbelieve it enough to do nothing when I'm invited in. My God, I don't believe this is happening. We've only till midnight, the witching hour. Let's see what we can do to protect... What was the name again, Mrs Pritchard? Jane. No, no, Mrs Pritchard. What's the name? I...

Come on, love. It's right you should name her Mrs Pritchard. What's the big deal? She's Jane. David. Elisa. Jane Elisa. No. Why do you face away from the church, Jane Elisa? What's wrong, Mrs Pritchard? Tell us. I don't know. I just feel that we shouldn't say her name.

I don't know why. You've named her before all this. We're being silly. Lest the devil number her among his chosen. Is that it, Mrs Pritchard? Yes, I suppose so. I think we should all pray, don't you? Right. Should we kneel down? It would seem more appropriate. Ellen, what do you mean? I can't pray. I don't believe in it anymore. Ellen, it's Janie we're praying for. I know, but I can't.

God, I can't. Why the hell not? I can't tell you. Send him away, please, David. For God's sake, try and think about the poor kid for once. I am. That's why. What do you mean? I can't tell you. I don't understand this. Mr. Williams, look, can you talk sense to her? I think this is sense to Mrs. Pritchard. She has renounced God. But, Ellen...

Just this once. It isn't a matter of changing her mind, is it, Ellen? Your wife cursed God, David, the night her first daughter died. Isn't that so, Ellen? Ellen, when Imogen Meyer died, you swore to be an enemy to God. Yes. Her prayers are therefore inverted. Her presence is even harmful. Ellen, how could you? I wanted her back. I wanted her. Release. I prayed for Imogen.

But she didn't come. So you renounced God? Wouldn't you? And put Jane in danger? Good God, woman, what have you done? Please, it's nearly midnight. Mrs Pritchard, you must leave this room. No. I shall pray for Jane. No. Ellen, please, do as he says. Mr Pritchard, I beg you, please, remove her. Ellen, come on. No. No. Ellen, come on, out. No. Take me, not her. Ellen, please. Leave me. Take me. No.

David, the door! What? Oh, God, no! Don't solve it. It's huge, like one piece. Open this door! The chaney! No! What did you do? What have you done? Ellen! I prayed that he'd take me. You, any of us.

Give me back Imogen. Who? What are you talking about? Oh, God, oh, God. Who was left? Who do you think? I said to him, bargained with him, take any of us, take this unborn thing inside me. What? I named her then Jane. A year ago, I didn't realize it. I named Jane for him. No. Oh, look. Paint. Yes. It's blistering.

Janie! Let us in! Williams! Let us in! It's no use. Don't you understand? He won't open. What do you mean, he? Who do you think that is? In there. What do you think that is? It's the... God...

And we invited him in? The devourer of innocent souls. You named her. She didn't stop me. I couldn't. If I spoke out against him, he'd take Imogen. What? Claim her from Limbo. I knew he'd come for Jane. She was his price. And you agreed? Not just like that, no. It was a prayer.

Twelve months ago. I didn't realize it didn't happen. Only tonight I knew, but it was the only way. I had to get her back. It was Jane. Or Ginny. You've killed her! You've killed your daughter! You've sold her to the devil! Jane? Jane? Jane?

The room was as before. There was no damage from the blistering flames. And of the intruder, there was no sign. In the cot lay their child, untouched, but convulsed in misery. Angry, even. They recognized the girl. She was their child. But which one? Jamie? Only time will tell. Every night as Ellen and David tuck their daughter into bed, they almost say, God bless. But now they wonder if some other name might be more appropriate.

Something darker. Only time will tell. In the story of the dispossessed daughter, John Duttyn was David, Vivian Healbron was Ellen, and Gareth Armstrong, the Reverend Williams. The play was written by Catherine Nicholas and directed in Wales by Adrian Morby. My name is Edward de Souza, your man in black. And next week I invite you to come with me to St. Austin Friars,

Not a welcoming place, though, you will find. In fact, this is a place from which the congregation rapidly retreats. And next week, you can find out why. Five after the hour by Les Weinroth. Five after the hour by Les Weinroth.

It is five after the hour and the music sets the stage. Music to soothe, music to mollify, music to whistles.

Thank you, Whistler. The original score for Assorted Strings, Woodwinds, and Brass, composed by Frank Smith. Same score for same instruments, see above. Guided by the baton of Cesar Petrillo. Words of various nature and proper emotions to be enunciated by members in good standing of the American Federation of Radio Artists, Chicago Local.

This is Five After the Hour, and this is the play. It's titled, The Life and Times of a Happy Man. The voice you've just heard is that of Jefferson Mount, a happy man. The Life and Times of a Happy Man

This is the saga of Jefferson Mouse.

happy man. Jefferson Mulch has everything. A lovely wife, two lovely children, an expensive townhouse in a fashionable city district, and an equally expensive estate in the suburbs. Furthermore, Jefferson Mulch was the president of two large and thriving businesses. He belonged to two high-class and exclusive clubs. His two lovely children were enrolled in two expensive schools, and his lovely wife was a member of two society ladies' organizations.

Yes, Jefferson Mulch had everything and was indeed a happy man. Now, how did Jefferson Mulch know that he was indeed a happy man? That's easy, because people were always telling him so.

The day had yet to go by when someone or other didn't say to him... Jeff, old chap, you're a happy man. Certainly wish I were as happy as you. Well, thanks for saying so, Beeston. You get to believe things like that after a while. At least that's what happened to Jefferson Mulch. He sincerely believed he was a happy man. That is, until one day... That was the day Jefferson Mulch fell ill with a cold. Hmm?

And because he stayed in bed all that day and wouldn't see anybody, there was no one around to say to him... Jeff, old chap, you're a happy man. Certainly wish I were as happy as you. And then Jefferson Mulch happened to turn on the radio. The End

♪♪

Are you unhappy? And if so, why? Are you happy? If so, how do you know you are? Just remember, ladies and gentlemen, there's no reason on earth for you to be unhappy. Not when there's a voice of happiness on the air just waiting for you to come in and discuss your problems with him. See me. You're welcome, Eddie. Jefferson Mouch turned off the radio and said to himself...

Am I really a happy man? Now, this is where the plot takes a twist. When Jefferson Mulch asked himself that question, there should have been no answer. He was alone. There was no one in the room to reply. Well, practically no one. If you accept his alter ego. Yes, his alter ego was with him and was in a talkative mood. Alter ego. From the Latin, another myself. Very well. Speak, Jefferson Mulch.

Reply, alter ego. Am I really a happy man? Well, I... Well, of course I am. I've got everything in the world, haven't I? Don't ask, no. Eh? Do some time. Thank you. Not at all. Um, where were we? You just said you had everything. Oh, yes, yeah, I do. I've got a lovely wife, haven't I? Come on, who are you kidding? Well, I'll admit, Myrna does get a little tiresome sometimes, but... But, uh, what? But, uh...

Oh, all right, Count Foundry, Myrna's a bore, a terrible bore. Now, are you satisfied? I am. Well, I am. Myrna may be a dull woman, but she's also a beautiful woman. And she loves me. And so do my two lovely children. Your children? Cynthia's spoiled and selfish and snobbish. She picks her friends carefully by the size of their bank balance. But then she's been well-schooled on that score. Your wife's sort of that. Now, see here... And John, now there's a boy. If you don't give him what he wants, and when you do, he pouts because you haven't given him enough.

Yes, indeed, Mulch. Amen. It all stopped using that adjective. Happy, happy, happy, happy. I'm tired of hearing it. I'm very tired of hearing it. And what about the business? The townhouse, the country estate, the exclusive clubs and the well- I don't know. I really don't know. Lives.

Isn't it mulch? Yeah, terribly dull. Dull beyond all shadow of a doubt. Beyond all shadow. There must be a reason why I'm not a happy man, though. Oh, I hate that word. But it is a fact. A most certain and undeniable fact. Not a...

Well, there's a reason. There must be. And I'll find it if it's the very last thing I ever do. That's the spirit, Mouch. I've got it. That man on the radio, he ought to know. That's his business. Good. Let's get started. Oh, um, Gesundheit. What's that for? You're going to sneeze. Huh? Oh, you're right. So I am. That's the shit! That's the shit!

so

May I help you, sir? I should like to see the voice of happiness. What about, please? Happiness, of course. What's your name, please? Mulch. Jefferson Mulch. I'll put you down in the book as Mr. J.M. The voice will see you in just a few minutes. Thank you. Just what do you expect to accomplish by an interview with a radio station?

Mr. J.M. He's not a radio actor. He's a consultant. He analyzes people, tells them why they aren't happy. Were you speaking to me, Mr. J.M.? What? Oh, no, I was just talking to myself. Ready for the next case, Miss T? This is Mr. J.M., sir. He is not the man. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. How do you do, sir? How do you do? Well, come in, come in, sir. Come in and tell me all your troubles. Nothing could make me happier. Thank you.

Now then, just where is the detour on your highway to happiness? Well, sir, it's like this. I have always been a happy man, that is, until this morning, at which time I was in bed with a bad cold.

So you see, that's the story. Yesterday I was a happy man, today I'm not. And you want me to prescribe for you? That's why I came here. What can you tell me? Well, that depends. If you want to appear on my radio program and tell your story to my radio audience, I can tell you nothing at this time.

You see, I always wait until the fan mail comes in before I make my radio decisions. Easier on my popularity rating. If I let the people think that my decision is the same as theirs. That's why I'm such a happy man myself. But on the other hand, if you don't want to appear on my program, I can prescribe for you right now. Well, I really have no desire to go on the radio. Oh, very well, Mr. J.M. In that case, I will say this to you.

Having listened to your tale of alleged woe, and I might add, having mulled it over at great length as you spoke, I've come to the positive conclusion that you are the happiest mortal it has ever been my pleasure to sit down and talk to. You mean you have no advice for me? Advice? You need no advice. Go home and revel in your happiness. You are indeed a happy man.

I am indeed a happy man, he said. What are you sitting in this broken-down hotel for? Why go home? He told you you were a happy man. What more do you want? Doesn't the charm work anymore? No, hang it, it doesn't. Of course, J.M., you lead a pretty well-modulated life, you know. Everything a simple matter of routine. Maybe you ought to go home and kick over the traces, create a little excitement for yourself. Mm-hmm. You know that might just fix things up. Yes, it's a thought.

It's definitely a thought. Jefferson, dinner's ready. I'm not hungry. Nonsense. It's 6.30 and you're always hungry at 6.30. Tonight I don't expect to be hungry until at least 7.00. Good, Jim. Good. The help will leave if they must stay in the kitchen that long. Fine. I suspect you'd make a marvelous cook with a little practice, my dear. Good. Good.

Really, Jefferson? You're being quite impossible tonight. Mother, it's after 6.30. Aren't we going to eat soon? Your father doesn't seem to be hungry, Jonathan. Is he sick? No, he isn't sick. He just doesn't want to eat. Is that clear? Yes, sir.

Father, what about the convertible I asked you to buy me? Jonathan, if you want a convertible or anything else, you can go to... Easy, Jim, easy. Just go and buy it for yourself, provided you have any of your allowance left. Mother, it's 20 minutes to 7, and Hortense says if we don't sit down to dinner right away, she won't be responsible for the frog's legs. Father's not hungry, Cynthia. Not hungry? Are you with her? I am not ill. Haven't you ever not been hungry at 6.30, Cynthia? Why, of course not. Poor child. Could you advance me a little money? No.

Mother called the doctor. Father is? I am not. While we're all together, I have something I want to tell you. I'm seriously thinking about giving away two million dollars. What? You heard me. Jefferson, if this is your idea of a joke, I don't think it's very funny. I'm not joking. I'm very serious. Well, Jefferson, I think it's very sweet of you to be so altruistic. I don't suppose parting with two million dollars will hurt us any? How much have we got in the bank? Two million dollars?

And Myrna, I am putting up the house for sale the first thing in the morning. Wonderful, J.M. This is the most idiotic thing I ever heard of. I am also selling the business and the townhouse and everything else. The trouble with all of us is that life has been too easy. We're all too self-satisfied and comfortable. Jefferson, I'm going up to my room. When you feel that you can talk sensibly and rationally, you may come up and talk to me. Come, children. Yes, Mother. Very nice mulch, very nice.

What now? Oh, I'm not telling. But I will give you a hint. Ever since the Voice of Happiness asked me if I wanted to tell my story on the air, I've had an awful yearning to go on the radio. Cynthia, have you any idea how one would go about boiling onions? I'm afraid not, Mother. Oh, boy.

Say, perhaps if I turn on the radio, they'll have one of those programs where the announcer tells you how to do all sorts of things. Well, it's worth a try. And that, ladies, is how one boils onions. Oh.

I don't miss our country house so much, but I certainly could use Hortense in the kitchen. Well, I could do with a couple of club dances. And I do hate public school. You'll meet so many people. Oh, that's pretty, isn't it? Yes, but it's not boiling my onions. Oh, all right. And?

Before we close for this evening, ladies and gentlemen, the Harpenter of Happiness has a few words for you. Thank you, Mr. Garment. If you have a problem that's barricading your route to happiness, come in and see me. We'll discuss your problem and listen to your board of experts. Shh, Cynthia. That voice. Sounds familiar. Well, it's Shadid's father.

So that's what he's doing with our money. Well, whoever would have thought of Jefferson as a harbinger of happiness? You know, Mother, Father might just become famous doing that. But very soon we might have some money in the bank again.

How to Be Happy Though Living by Jefferson Mulch has already sold 175,000 copies and is in its seventh printing. Get his John Henry on a contract for a new book. Pronto. Happiness is just a state of mind by Jefferson Mulch. 150,000 copies. Eight print.

"The Avenger of Happiness will be the greatest motion picture ever to come out of Hollywood." "Get Mulch out here, we need a technical advisor!" It's been fun. I've been a happy man for the past six months. There's only one trouble. I seem to have two million dollars in the bank again. You are Jefferson Mulch? I am. I'm Arthur Jones.

Officer of Currency Stabilization, Department of the Treasury. Mr. Mulch, it has been called to our attention that you are doling out a minor fortune to people with problems. That's right. Through my radio program. Well, Mr. Mulch, I'm afraid all that will have to stop.

You have no idea what a program such as yours, with its subsequent rewards, can do to rupture a country's economic setup. You mean that my giving away $1,000 a question on my program is upsetting economic standards? Yes, and you have no idea to what extent. After all, everybody has problems. And if you give $1,000 to everyone with a problem, well...

Just stop a minute and think of the possible consequences. I see what you mean, Mr. Jones, and you can count on me. I have no desire to disrupt the entire nation, and I won't give away another cent on my program. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the harbinger of happiness. Now turn off the humbug, Harry. He hasn't had a good program since he stopped giving away cash prizes for problems.

Look at that Hooper rating. Less than one. Beginning next Monday, a new show will replace The Harbinger of Happiness. His sponsor isn't satisfied with it. Always thought that stuff was a lot of drivel myself. Well, Jefferson? Well? What? Go ahead, Jeff. This is it. You have no job now and no money in the bank. Where do we go from here? Answer, Jeff.

Oh, we'll get along, my dear. We've always done all right. Just doing all right isn't good enough anymore, Jefferson. You may like it, but I don't. And neither do your children. We're used to something better than this. Better than what, my dear? Better than doing our own cooking and living in five little rooms. Sending the children to public school and having to make new friends even while we're dodging the old ones. We're used to better than that. And we expect to get it.

You haven't learned anything in the past six months, have you? You don't know what it is to be happy. You only know what it is to be rich. I've tried to give you the chance to know something better than that, but obviously you don't want it. Jeffers, how much money do we have? Money? None. Likewise, stocks, bonds, real estate, none. We have nothing. Oh, I do have some life insurance.

In what amount? I don't know exactly. Let's say roughly a million. Jefferson, I am devoted to you. You've been a good and kind husband. A loving and devoted father. I am going to do this only because I know that someday you will be happy about it. Wait for me! Wait for me!

Angel! Angel!

Very well, angels. Quiet, please. Let us form a nice straight line for inspection. Thank you. Wings straight. Halos in place. Come, come. Very well. Fine, fine. You do look bright. Every one of you. Bright and shining. Angel Jefferson Mauch. Yes, sir? Your halo. There was a cherub.

Nice little fella had misplaced his. And your harp? That very nice second harpist in the heavenly choir. Two of his strings were broken. Well... Hmm. But your golden slippers? The assistant doorman at the pearly gates, the nice fat jolly little fella, his were being half sold. And I do enjoy going barefoot.

Jefferson, Jefferson, what are we going to do with you? I don't know, sir. I'm sorry I'm such a worry to you. Worry? Nonsense, Jefferson. You sound like a mortal. Why, you're one of our most shining lights. Why, Jefferson Munch, you are a happy man. The End

This, then, is the saga of Jefferson Mouch. Jefferson hasn't got a lovely wife anymore, nor two lovely children, nor an expensive townhouse, nor an equally expensive country estate. He also has no money in the bank, no thriving business, and he belongs to no exclusive clubs.

No, Jefferson has none of these. And little else if you're going to count personal property. But this, none can deny. Jefferson Mulch is indeed a happy man.

The Life and Times of a Happy Man was written by Carol Lederer and Les Weinroth. The original score was composed by Frank Smith, and the orchestra was under the direction of Cesar Petrello.

Next week, at the same time, you are again invited to meet with us at five after the hour by Les Weinreich.

Another five-minute mystery.

THE END

And so Johnny Raymond and his organ bring to a close the first program of his new radio series. This is your announcer, James Van Dorn, saying goodnight to you all.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. Quiet. That's better. Now, Mr. Horton, you're the director of this show. Would you tell me in your own words exactly what happened when Van Dorn died? Well, Inspector, it was toward the end of the program. Van Dorn reached for the button to put the studio off the air and then he

He just gasped and fell to the floor. I see. Where were the rest of you when this happened? Well, Taylor and I were in the control room and Johnny Raymond was at the organ. Are you Taylor? That's right. I'm the studio engineer. Did you notice anything peculiar during the program? No, sir. I was in the control room most of the time. Most of the time? Well, except for the few minutes when I went into the studio to check the equipment just before going on the air. You noticed nothing out of the ordinary? No, sir. How about you, Raymond? Well, I was at the organ singing during the whole show. You didn't see anything either? No. No?

Mr. Van Dorn just pushed a button and then collapsed. Let's take a look at this button. Which one was it, Mr. Raymond? Well, I wouldn't know. Kind of new around here. It's this black one here, Inspector. It puts the studio off the air when you... Oh! What happened, Mr. Horton? I don't know. Something pierced my finger. Pissed your finger? Yeah, let me see.

Well, what do you know about this? Hey, look here. A little pin sticking out of this button. Yes, and that's not all. You see this stain on the lower half of this pin?

My guess is right. This pin's been dipped in poison. But what does it mean? It means that Van Dorn didn't just die, but was murdered. Murdered? But how? Simple. When Van Dorn went to switch the studio off the air, he stuck his finger on the pin and died immediately. Incredible. But that means anyone could have slipped in here and put that pin there. You're wrong there, Mr. Horton. It means that one of you three put that pin there. One of us? Yes, Horton. Who? Who?

You, Mr. Taylor, you're under arrest for the murder of James Van Dorn. How did the inspector know it was Taylor who murdered Van Dorn? We'll give you the solution in just a moment, but first...

Oh, my God.

♪♪

And now for the solution. I murdered Van Dorn. Why, you're crazy. Am I? You said you went out to check all the equipment. If someone else had put the pin on that button, you would have noticed it. Well, one of the others could have... No, Taylor. It couldn't have been Raymond or Horton. Raymond's new in the radio business and knew nothing about the board or anything else about this studio. Remember, this was his first radio show.

If it had been Horton, he wouldn't have accidentally stuck his finger on it just now. No, Taylor. You were the only possible one. You'd better get ready to march. We're going to headquarters. ♪♪

Stay tuned for adventure and excitement in the world of the future. Entertainment for the entire family produced right here in Kalamazoo.

Join us now for a voyage into another. A journey into a realm as infinite and limitless as time itself. Destination of us, reaches of the imagination. WMUK special project, Future Takes.

The Parade by George Lepperts.

You are Mr. Sid Ryan. The same? My name is Lushar. I'm a Martian. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lushar. What was that again? A Martian. A Martian, as in Star Trek? Precisely. I'm a Rattarian myself. Sit down. Thank you. Now that we've had our little joke, Mr. Lushar...

What can publicity associate for you? It has been my observation that advertising and publicity are the very backbone of earthly civilization. Spoken like a true Martian, Mr. Lushar. Now, it will tell me the name of the client. The client, of course, will be the Martian. You don't give up, do you? Give up? The gag. I mean, Oliver. Yes, Mr. Ryan? Oliver, this is Mr. Lushar. Mr. Lushar claims to be a Martian.

Take him outside while you find out the name of the sanatorium he escaped from and tell him to bring the butter. Wait, wait. I'm happy to see, Mr. Ryan, that my telling you I am a Martian has approximately the effect I supposed it would have. I have reason to believe that we can do business. I have here a cash retainer of five thousand dollars.

I've sat down, Mr. Louchard. Oliver got the client a cigar. Yes, sir. No, no, no. The good cigar. Thank you. Well, now, what can I do for you, sir? I wish you to manage a publicity campaign. A very large, very important campaign. Is the product established or is it something brand new? Oh, it is something quite new.

Now, what would you judge to be the most effective type of campaign? Well, if the client has a lot of dough to throw around, a suspense campaign is best. You might put an ad in the paper saying, watch this space. And then about a week later, you run an ad saying, XYZ or PDQ. And you get people guessing what it means.

Then finally, when you've teased them enough, you bust loose and unveil the product. Excellent. Oh, very well, sir. We shall conduct a suspense campaign. Of course. In this kind of campaign, secrecy is very important. Once the name of the product leaks out, it's spread like wildfire and the whole campaign is afloat. Oh, of course. Quite so.

utmost secrecy. That's right. You realize that these things cost like crazy. I will say one million dollars is cover the expense.

What was that again? I said would one million dollars cover it? Yes, I imagine it would. You did say one million dollars. Well, I understood that you have handled some very large accounts. Of course. No, no, no, not at all, not at all. As a matter of fact, I don't touch anything left. Right, Oliver? Of course. That's right, Mr. Ryan. Absolutely right. Oh, good.

You will begin then by saturating the newspapers, radio and television with a very simple statement. What's that? I shall write it for you. The Martians are coming. Hey, that's not a bad teaser. I got that, Oliver? Yes, sir. The next ad will read, June 1st is Martian Day.

June 1st is Martian Day. What happens on June 1st? The parade takes place. What parade? I wish you to arrange a parade on Michigan Avenue. You mean like the Thanksgiving parade? Exactly. Except that the theme will be the world of tomorrow. The Martian world.

My clients would like it to be a happy occasion. Balloons, clowns, pennants, pretty drum majories. That sounds terrific. I might be able to interest the department stores in a tie-in. The parade will climax the campaign. On June 1st, the product will be unveiled. Good enough.

By the way, Mr. Lushar, just what is the product? What are we selling? Oh, no. No, Mr. Ryan. Secrecy. Remember. But I... It will all be revealed to you in good time, Mr. Ryan. For the moment, let us say we are selling a concept. A concept? Precisely. A concept of invasion from Mars.

Benny's Talent Agency.

This is Sid Ryan over in Publicity Associates. Listen, Benny, how are you fixed for midgets? I got midgets. Fine, fine. I need 40 midgets for a parade. June 1st. And listen, Benny, I want them dressed in little space suits, you know, like men from Mars, okay? Midgets. I want actors. I need 50 of them, also rigged up like men from Mars. Make them look gruesome. Got that? Gruesome. Also, I need some horses with me.

Pretty girls on top of them. Maybe you can get that bunch from the traveling circus, the ones we booked for the firemen last year. I'll try, sir. And never mind the expense. Just get me the talent, okay? I gotta hang up now. Call me back, Benny.

How you doing, Oliver? Oh, fine, Mr. Ryan, just fine. Got a full-page ad in the Gazette, ten-second spot announcements on every local station. It's costing a fortune. The more it costs, the bigger our percentage is. Spend like you were going to the electric chair, Oliver. Yes, sir. How are you making out in the parade? If it comes off, it'll be the biggest thing that ever hit this town. I've got Gilmore, Steckety's, and Jacobson's to contribute floats. Everything is...

filled around the Martian theme, see? Even the horses will have long feelers attached to them and funny-looking extra legs. It'll be sensational. Oh, yeah. Yeah, it sounds fine. Only I... Only what? Mr. Ryan, we don't even know what we're selling. Oliver, my boy, do you think old Sid Ryan has been sitting here spending all this dough and not putting two and two together? You

You know who Lusha represents? Just by accident, understand. I have learned that Century Pictures has been making a big new epic, a space opera entitled Invasion from Mars. Get it? Oh, I'm beginning to see you think they want a tech preview in Kalamazoo. Also, by mere coincidence, it happens to be the premier sometime around on June 1st.

Do you follow me? But Mr. Ryan, Century has an exclusive contract with New Feature Syndicate for all their publicity. So suppose Century Pictures doesn't like the way New Feature is handling their stuff. They want to get out of the contract, but New Feature says no. So they have to get around to the contract. A man named Lu Char, client unknown, starts publicizing the Martian invasion. Need I go further? Why get it, Mr. Ryan?

Gee, I suppose I should have thought out of that. No, Oliver. That's what I like about you. You're so innocent. Let me talk to Commissioner Patrick, please. Sid Ryan. Commissioner! Sid Ryan! Oh, it's you. If you want to drop a man off the ISB, the answer is...

I want a permit for a parade, June 1st, down Michigan Avenue. It's a Sunday, so there's no traffic. Everybody else gets a permit. Don't give me a hard time, Patrick. This is too big. I have the downtown Kalamazoo Association behind me. Okay, Ryan. Fill out the forms. I'll pass them on to the licensor. That's my boy. By the way, let's see a... Don't you read the papers, Patrick? June 1st is Martian Day.

Well, Mr. Ryan, how's the campaign going? Like fire, Mr. Lushar, like fire. Everybody and his brother is going along with the gag. We distributed 10,000 Martian hats to school kids.

I even arranged for Commissioner Patrick to accept a $50,000 check for the Policeman's Benevolent Fund from the, uh, man from Mars. Excellent. I understand Century Pictures is spending over six million bucks making that space opera. I beg your pardon? Oh, come on, Mr. Lushar. Said Ryan wasn't born yesterday, you know.

I know who our client is. You do? Always thinking. That's me. Well, as long as you know, let's keep it to ourselves, shall we, Mr. Ryan? As you once remarked, if anything leaks out, there is very little surprise. It ruins the effectiveness of the campaign.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is Gerard McLeod speaking to you from on top of the reviewing stand over the one-tethered Martian parade here on Michigan Avenue. It's a beautiful sunlit day here in Kalamazoo, a terrific day for a parade, and the streets are packed with thousands of spectators. All eager to find out what this is all about. There's an air of terrific expectancy. I just had word that the Martians have landed from Big Pink Balloons.

And while we're waiting here for the arrival of the parade, we brought some people up to our microphones to tell you their reactions to this spectacular affair. What's your name? Shackley. A little louder, please. My name is Shackley, all right. And where are you from, Mrs. Shackley? Portage. I see. I see you have your family with you, a nice little curly-headed boy. Well...

What do you think of Martian Day, Mrs. Shackley? Well, it all seems very strange to me. But the boys have been pestering me to watch it, so we've been standing here for two hours. I can't make head or tails of it. Well, neither can a lot of other people, Mrs. Shackley, but judging by the thousands here already, there's a lot of curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. Thank you, Mrs. Shackley. Now, folks, here they come, the first unit of the Martian parade swinging down Michigan Avenue.

Fanfare, colors, streamers, music, confetti, floats, all of this and more. Let's listen to the band for a minute. ♪♪

Now, here after the band, we have about 40 cute little midgets in weird-looking spacesuits carrying little gold weapons with signs painted on them. I can even read one sign that says, "Atomic Blaster." Another sign that reads, "We're Martians from Pawpaw."

And here come the clowns, laughing and bawling all over each other. They're giving free sugar candies to the kids along the way.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is a happy, laughing crowd along Michigan Avenue today. A true reflection of the great sense of humor and good nature that makes America the place it is. If I... What's this? Wait a minute. The crowd's murmuring. Now they've turned somewhat silent. There's something coming. I'll try to get it here. Just a minute.

Uh, what? Oh, uh, ladies and gentlemen... Ah, here come the Martians. We've finally reached the climax of the show.

Now, a great hush has fallen over the crowd. It's quite a sight to see these thousands of people standing here expectantly. And now, here they come, ladies and gentlemen. The Martians, marching in counted regimented ranks, row after row. This is really impressive, ladies and gentlemen, and a serious contrast with the rest of the joyous slapstick parade that's been witnessing up to now.

There's, oh, two hundred tall, broad-chested men dressed in metallic gray spacesuits, glass visors drawn across their faces. One is holding an ominous-looking gray gun in a ready position, marching in absolute silence, though some unspoken command is marking time. Even the children are awed by the unexpected warlike appearance of these marching people.

And now the first ranks of the Martians move past us on down Michigan Avenue toward the reviewing stand. No one moves. Wait a minute. Hold on. A woman has just dashed into the street, ladies and gentlemen. I don't know the reason. She just slipped through the police barricade and they're after her now.

She's already reached the ranks of the Martians, and she's trying to lift the visor on one of the Martian faces. Wait a minute. Hold it. She screamed and fell forward in a dead faint. The Martian column keeps right on coming. I'm afraid, for God's sake, they're going to trample her. No, no, the policemen have got her now. They're dragging her out of the way. She's out of the way now. They're trying to revive her now.

All sorts of rumors are beginning to come back from the crowd. Some are even whispering that the woman is dead. We don't know yet. Whatever has happened has seemed to put a slight shadow over the mood of the crowd here. The carefree holiday atmosphere has seemed to vanish. Nothing to be alarmed at, however. It just seems kind of a shame that anything like this should happen and spoil our enjoyment of the Martian parade.

Mr. Ryan, did you see that? A woman fainted. She ran out onto the street to take a closer look at the Martian. Then she screamed and fainted dead away. I'm well aware of that, Oliver, since I paid her 50 bucks to do it. What? The dramatic moment, Oliver. The stock and trade of a good publicity man. Blast!

Relax. Holy smokes. You sure think of everything. My share of this deal, roughly $100,000, I can afford to think of everything. Shut the window. Okay. Don't you want to see the finish? We'll go down to the reviewing stand for the finish. Right now, I want to make a phone call. Oh, by the way, where's Lushan? I haven't seen him. All right. Close the window, Oliver. Okay, Mr. Ryan. Okay.

Benny's talent agency. Benny, this is Sid Ryan. Oh, gee, Sid, I'm awful sorry. I forgot to call you. I'm awful sorry about those Martians. What do you mean sorry? They're terrific. Oh, don't joke, Sid. I mean it. Well, I mean it, too. They're great, great. Never felt better. Mean it, don't you? Of course I mean it. What is it?

Martians in the parade? About 150. Of course, I only ordered 50 under the circumstances. Sid, Sid, don't you know?

I couldn't get you a single actor. There's a strike. Huh? Wait a minute. Where did these guys come from if you didn't hire them? I don't know. Hold on. Oliver. Yes, Mr. Ryan? Did you hire those Martians? Well, no, sir, I didn't. Okay, Benny, I'll call you back. What's the matter, Mr. Ryan? I don't know. I just don't know. Open that window, Oliver. Oliver.

I want another look at those Martians. Look at them. Oliver, you were in the Army. But 150 movie actors learn to march like that in, say, 24 hours? No. Not in 24 days, Mr. Martin.

Not one out of step. The way they carry those ray guns. The only other time I've seen troops march like that was in a film of the Nazi SS troops marching through the streets of Paris. Mr. Ryan. Hold it. Get down there. Find out where the woman who fainted is and get her up here and make it fast. Mr. Ryan, here she is. I can't get my sense out of her. Dad!

Okay, Gloria, Gloria, relax. It's me, Sid Ryan. Gloria, settle down. Baby, it's me, Sid. It's awful. Those big green eyes and the feelers. Like a kid. Baby, sniff out of it. Now, what happened down there? You ran out and screamed like I told you, but the fainting, that wasn't in the air. No, I...

Just one question. Inside that helmet, what did you see? Let me get her a drink, Mr. Warren. She needs a doctor. Okay, Oliver, I've heard enough. You take care of Gloria. Get her a drink. Where are you going? To see the commissioner. We've got to stop this parade before something happens.

Okay, Ryan, what's the beat? Listen, Patrick, I don't know what it is, Steve, but something is wrong. You've got to stop that parade. I suppose you would like the riot squad. That would get you a front page spread on every paper in town. Look, Ryan, I've got no time for your cheap publicity gag. I'm a busy man. Listen, I'm trying to tell you. I don't know where those Martians came from, who they are, anything about them, or... Oh, wise guy, something horrible is already happening.

A couple of hundred little kids are in the hospital. Tow made poisoning from that phony Martian candy you passed out. What? Or didn't you know? I didn't. We've got to stop that parade. Sure, you'd like nothing better than to start a panic right now. And maybe a few hundred people getting trampled to death. Think of the newspaper space that would get you. Commissioner, this may be a matter of life and death. Get out of here quick or it'll be your death. Go on, beat it. Get out.

Your idea of a publicity stunt is making me sick to my stomach. Oliver? Oliver! Oliver! Where are you? Oliver. It is useless to scream at him, Mr. Ryan.

Your friend is quite dead. Lushar. He wanted to run to the police with some story about a Martian invasion, and I found it necessary to restrain him. Restrain him, you stinking murderer? No, no, Mr. Ryan. Collect yourself.

After all our planning, it wouldn't do to have it spoiled now, would it? Well, Char, start talking and talk fast, because when you get through, I'm going to take you apart piece by piece. What's this all about? Oh, surely you know, Mr. Ryan. After all, you've been publicizing it for months. You see, the Martian government sent some of us as scouts in advance, disguised as Earth men, of course, to study your habits, learn your weaknesses.

We've heard that your people on Earth are predominantly conditioned by advertising, publicity. So we conceived the idea of treating our entire invasion as a vast publicity stunt. Clever, yes?

After all, Mr. Ryan, who would suspect an invader who advertised his invasion in the newspaper, invited the public to a surprise attack, spent millions publicizing his plan? Holy shit! You've done very well, you see. There was no product. Ah, but there is a product. The product is...

Death. What are you pulling, Lushar? We Martians are humane people, Mr. Ryan. We do not like to destroy thousands when a few hundred will suffice. In exactly two minutes, our troops will treat the world to a spectacle of death. It will bring the rest of your planet to its knees. Nations will clamor to surrender. Perhaps, Lushar, but not if I can help it.

Operator, give me the telephone at the reviewing stand of the Martian Day Parade, and hurry! Reviewing stand, hello? Hello! It will do you no good. I want the mayor. The mayor, the mayor! Everybody loves a parade, eh? Wait a minute, things are finding out. What was that you wanted?

This is Ryan. I have to talk to the mayor. It's a matter of life and death. Oh, Mr. Ryan, Mr. Ryan. How melodramatic. Well, you can't talk to him now. Chief Lawrence is presenting the PBA check to him. The Martians are going to fire a salute. Listen, you've got to stop them. You idiot. The worst is already... Sir, you've been cut off. Is something the matter? No, operator. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. No. No.

WMUK Special Projects has presented The Parade, an original radio drama by George Lepperts. John Scott was featured as Sid Ryan, and Mark Spink played Louchard. Others in our cast were Richard Niesink, Bill Rout, Rita Gillespie, Richard Atwell, and Liam Rout.

Future Tense is produced and directed by L.A. Siegel. Next on Future Tense. Are you ready to receive the prisoner? I must warn all observers to remain behind the lead wall when the radiation lock opens. Open the lock. Step into the lock, prisoner. He's in with the lead. You can almost feel the radiation.

By now, he's as good as dead. Close the lock. No, no way, Joseph. Mary, come back. Hold the door. She'll be burned to death. Don't go out there. The lady is pushing us. Mary. Close the lock. Sergeant, get a technician in a radiation suit to pick her up. Have her shielded and brought to the decontamination chamber. Oh, my daughter. You'd better get into a lead suit, Donald. We'll see what we can do to save her.

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

Be sure to listen. Now in cooperation with police and federal law enforcement departments throughout the United States, the only national program that brings you authentic police case histories, Gangbusters. The brothers in banditry who thought the way to social standing was money, and the way to money was that even the highest polish leaves a mark.

Gangbusters has asked the Honorable John J. Grosh, now criminal sheriff, Orleans Parish, and former chief of detectives, New Orleans, Louisiana, to narrate by proxy tonight's case. The inside facts in the case of Brothers in Banditry. Sheriff Grosh, I know you have a lot to tell us tonight, so suppose you start right in. All right, Don Gardner. I think the place to begin would be a few years ago in Hollywood, California.

In a room at one of the fashionable apartment hotels, a young man and a young woman were dancing while a portable phonograph hummed out the rhythm of the latest rage from South America, the samba. That's it. That's it. Now you've got it. This is fun. All right, now stay with it. Stay with it. Sure, you've got it.

Oh, darn it. Now, come on, honey. Come on. It's simple. Oh, no. Not now, Ralph. Later, maybe. Turn it off, hmm? Sure, Lydia. Anything you say. I get one of these dances all set, and then they come out with a new one. I've just got to sit down. I think I've got some ice in there. I'll fix you a nice cool drink. No, thanks, Ralph. Sit down here with me. Sure, baby.

Cleveland's gonna be awfully dull without you, Ralph. Well, then stick around Hollywood. No, I've been here long enough without anything happening. My father gave me a year. If you're not in pictures by then, he said, come home. So, back to the social world in Cleveland. That's me. Well, maybe I'll drop into Cleveland someday.

Would you like that? Would I like that? I... Oh, answer that, will you, Lydia? Oh, what's yours? Answer it yourself. No, no, go ahead, honey. Whoever it is, tell them... Tell them I won't be back till Tuesday. I don't want to talk to anybody. Hand me the phone. Sure. Hello? Is this Ralph Oliver's room? Uh, well, uh... Well, is it or isn't it? Yes, it is. Now, let me talk to Ralph. Well, hello?

He's not here right now. Well, when do you expect him back? I don't know exactly. Tuesday, maybe. Tuesday? Look, where can I get in touch with him? This is his brother. I just got in town. Hey, hey, give me that phone. Oh, sure. Hey, Lott, you old pelican, how are you? Oh, great, Ralph. Say, what's the idea Tuesday? When did you get in town? Just a little while ago. What are you doing tonight?

Well, we were just thinking about getting dinner, Lot. Meet us, and then you can come back here and stay with me. Well, sure. What do they serve the biggest steaks in town? The El Dorado Club. We'll see you there in a half an hour. And in case you don't remember the face, look for a sailor suit with a stripe and a half. Well, J.G., so you finally made it. One way or another. Oh, why didn't you write me? Well, I'll tell you all about it, and don't be late. I'm hungry as a bear.

Oh, Lawton, that's wonderful. My CO didn't think it was so wonderful. I've never had such a good time. Why didn't you tell me about this kid brother of yours, Ralph? I've always kept him a secret. He's a woman stealer. And he's so young, too. Don't let him kid you, Lydia. There's only a year between us. Besides, I have only one love, and that's the Navy.

Would you care for another brandy, Lydia? No, thank you, Ralph. I think I'll just go potter my nose. No, I like your nose the way it is. You won't miss me. The matter of fact, I feel in the way. You must have lots to talk about. I'll be back in a few minutes. All right. Nice girl. She'll do a lot. Rich family? Rich enough. How are you doing otherwise? It's a struggle. Say, tell me something, will you? What?

How come they jump you from machinist mate second class to Lieutenant J.G. in a year? Navy promotions are too slow, Ralph. I decided to promote myself. Oh? I'm not in the Navy anymore. I, uh, just like the uniform. Honorable discharge? The other kind. Uh-uh.

If they catch you wearing that uniform, it'll go tough on you. Yeah, they won't catch me. I move too fast. Do you have to move too fast? Oh, wouldn't you if you had a bunch of bum checks trailing you? Yeah. But you gotta be careful, kid. Oh, I'm careful.

Well, where do we go from here? I don't know. You're the host. Me? Well, didn't you invite me out to dinner? Well, sure, but I'm kind of short tonight. Of money, you mean? What else? Uh-oh. What's the matter? I've only got $7 to my name. Beat me. I've only got $5. That's not much help. Check will be over $30 with all the drinks. What about Lydia? Forget it. She's well healed. Couldn't you tell her you left you all at home? Forget it.

I'm saving her for a bigger touch. But she's going on with Cleveland tomorrow. And I'm going to Cleveland soon. Well, what are we going to do? Hey, how about you and I fighting over who's going to pay? That's got whiskers. Well...

How about getting sick or spilling food or something? Call that head waiter over here. What's your idea? Just call him. Captain. Captain. Oui, monsieur. One moment. Now, when he gets here, tell him what a fine dinner we had and ask him to bring the check. But Ralph, I... Do as I tell you. Here he comes. Can I be of service, monsieur lieutenant? Yes.

Yeah, the dinner was excellent. Just right. Oh, thank you, monsieur. May I have the check, please? Oui, monsieur, in a moment. Say, isn't that Joe Davis? Excuse me. Oh, it is nothing, monsieur. I will have the check in a moment. Now, tell me how that helped us. Other than to bring the axe down quicker, the check will be over 30 bucks. Here, be a liberal tipper. Give him 40. Hey, what'd you get? All that dough. From the head waiter. But he doesn't know it yet. Oh, okay.

Ralph, how long you been picking pockets? His is the first one. But when I have to, I can do anything and do it good. Well, let's get out of here before he misses that one. As soon as Lydia comes back, we'll take her home. Then I want to talk over a few things with you. Okay, Lord, let's turn in, huh? It's late. I've just been sitting here thinking, Ralph. What's there to think about?

Aren't you sick of wondering where your next dollar is coming from? I am. I want to live off the fat of the land. Well, who doesn't? You came along just in time, kid. I was about to look for somebody to help me. Okay. You can count on your kid, brother. Good. Throw away that sailor suit and we go into business. A nice little business. Sort of capital gains. We invest a few dollars in some guns, run them to a fortune.

You know, Ralph, when you're cashing bum checks or even picking pockets, they don't look for you too hard. Robbery is something else. Look, Lord, when there's a holdup, the police look for criminals. We're not criminals. And we'll pick a town we both know well, like New Orleans. We'll do what we have to do and get out immediately. Go to some place where we're respected citizens. Like Cleveland. Like Cleveland. We stay there and have a good time until we're ready for another business trip back to New Orleans.

2540-1382. Good morning, miss. Good morning. We'd like to see Mr. Florissant. Who's calling, please? Detective Sanders and King, New Orleans Police Department. Oh, one moment, please. Yes? Mr. Florissant, Detective Sanders and King of the police department to see you. To see me? Yes, sir. They're right here. Well, send them in.

Are you about finished making up that deposit? About, sir. I'll bring it in when it's ready. Mr. Florence's office is the first one on the right. Thank you very much. Well, I hope we get away with it. We will. Don't worry. All right, luck. And here's luck. Thank you.

Mr. Floreson? Yes? I'm Detective Sanders. This is Detective King. We hate to trouble you when you're busy. Well, that's all right if there's anything I can do for you. We'd like to do something for you. For me? Yes, sir. You're in the habit of making a large bank deposit every Wednesday morning at 11. Well, that's right. As a matter of fact, the deposit's about ready now. We had a tip from an informer last night. This informer thinks two bandits planned to hold you up today on your way to the bank. What?

Really? The lieutenant doesn't put much stock in the report, but he sent us to escort you to the bank. Oh, fine. Have the deposit, Mr. Floresat. Oh, good. I'll take it, please. Oh, would you bring back some deposit slips, sir? Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Thank you. You're welcome, Mr. Floresat.

And another thing, Mr. Florissant, either we or other detectives will continue to escort you to the bank every Wednesday for three or four weeks, just to play safe. Oh, I'll be glad to have you, believe me. All right, we'll take the money. That's all right, I can carry it. He meant, we'll take it. Get him up, please. I've got it. Let's go. Okay.

Oh, miss. Yes, sir? Mr. Florison asked me to tell you that we're escorting him to the bank in a half hour. He doesn't want to be disturbed until we return. Oh, I won't disturb him. Good. Come on, Sergeant. That, Don, was how Ralph and Lott and Oliver staged their first robbery in New Orleans. They were delighted at their success. But the brothers soon learned it's seldom that even the most ingenious schemes fool the police. Now, back to Gangbusters.

You were telling us, Sheriff Grosh, that the brothers Ralph and Lawton Oliver had worked out an elaborate scheme to stage robberies in New Orleans, then leave town before the police could make headway in their investigation. That's right, Don. And at least a half dozen cleverly executed robberies were committed in quick succession. After the last one, they planned to leave for Cleveland, where they'd make the rounds as respectable citizens.

Lawton was waiting on a busy New Orleans corner for his brother when a brand new Cadillac sedan pulled to a stop. Lawton! Hey, Lawton! Come on, get in! Ralph! Where the devil did you get this? How do you like it? Hey, some hunk of automobile. Oh, my God!

How do you like that power? Oh, come on, come on. Whose is it? Don't tell me somebody left it standing there with the keys in it. It's ours. Ours? Yours and mine. We're going to Cleveland in style. You mean you bought it? Right off the floor. Oh, now stop kidding, will you? This car costs, well, it must cost $3,500 at least. $36 and a quarter. Oh, honest, Ralph. We'll make it up. What's money? Besides, the Cadillac's going to pay for itself. Yeah? How? Well,

Well, I figured out one more job for us before we kiss New Orleans goodbye. And we can use the car for it. But what about the plates? It's registered in our name. Oh, license plates are a dime a dozen, so we get a dozen. Then who knows it's our car. Then we head straight for Cleveland with a brand new Cadillac free and clear. That's my brother. Well, Inspector, I checked up on the license plates. Huh? Huh?

Stolen. You didn't expect anything different, did you? No, but I was hoping. Where was the car stolen from, Sergeant? I don't know about the car. The plate's taken off a 1940 Chevy. Some difference. Any reports on a new Cadillac sedan being stolen? I couldn't find any, Inspector. Not any place in the state. If anyone's missing a brand new Cadillac, they certainly ought to squawk about it. Here.

No, couldn't be. You mean you were thinking these bandits might own that car and just have stolen the plates? Yeah, but why do they need to buy a car? Sergeant, these two men seem to have a way of their own and a purpose of their own. They're well-spoken, polished, and a little too confident. Why shouldn't they buy a Cadillac if they want one? If they did, it shouldn't be too hard to trace. Look into the state registrations for the last week or two. There won't be too many Cadillacs with that model listed. Yes, sir. I'll get right on it.

Lydia. What? You've been unfaithful. Unfaithful? Yes. You've been taking samba lessons from somebody else. Well, I never expected to see you in Cleveland, Ralph. Well, I promised I'd be here, didn't I? That was a Hollywood promise. You don't know how I dreamed about seeing you again. How I couldn't wait to get here and then to hold you in my arms. Dancing? Not just dancing. Lydia, look.

Look, I'll be here two weeks. I want to see you every day and every night. Now, where are we going tomorrow afternoon? That's up to you. Tomorrow night? Tomorrow night, I'm busy. What's his name? A murderer. Let's sit down, Ralph. What's the matter with tomorrow night? Well, you can see me if you want to. It's up to you. This is our table, isn't it? Yeah.

What do you mean, if I want to? Tomorrow night's the annual charity ball. Well, I believe in charity. It so happens that I'm on the ticket committee. Congratulations. I'll take two tickets. How much are they? Whatever you want to give. Well, I'll take two at $500 apiece. Oh, that's very generous, Ralph, but I've already got mine. Okay, I'll still take two. Glutton won't want to stay in the hotel room. My whole family believes in charity.

All right, all right, my goodness. No rooms vacant, mister. We're all full up. I don't want a room. Then what do you want? Do you have a room named Oliver? Who are you, bill collector? No. Then come in, come in. Thanks. Well, did you want Ralph Oliver or Lawton Oliver? Oh, there's two of them. Brothers, nicest boys you ever saw, high tone. I see. I see.

Where's their room? It ain't in New Orleans no more. Who are you anyway? An insurance salesman? I'm a police officer, ma'am. Police officer? When'd they leave? Well, Friday, I think it was. Yeah, Friday, because Mr. Hunter Clark moved in on Friday. Never mind, Mr. Clark.

You know where they went? Traveling, they said. But if you ask me, it was Cleveland. Well, Ralph, that is, got a fiancé in Cleveland. You must be making a mistake about those boys. They're nice boys. Did Ralph get mail from Cleveland? Some. Now, see here, you don't think I go around reading my room as mail. I'm sure you don't.

Well, it was from Cleveland. High society gal. She writes on good stationery. So you're after the wrong man. Anybody who has a high society gal don't go mixing up with the police. You don't want the Oliver boys for nothing. They're very high type. Yes, I know. Very high type. Now, please, show me the room they occupied. Well, I'll show it to you, but you won't find nothing there. I clean it every day. Yeah? Every day. Right this way.

A thousand dollars, Ralph. A thousand dollars for tickets. It's an investment. Well, how long do you think the money's gonna hold out? We've been here two days and you've already spent nearly two thousand. Well, there's plenty more where we got this. Sure, back in New Orleans or someplace, but we're in Cleveland. You're dated up for two weeks. Lord, what? You know, associating with these people here gives you a lot of inside information. Now, the hotel across the street, for instance...

Did you know that every Monday night the wealthiest businessmen in town amuse themselves with a game of poker? A game of poker for high stakes in room 1102? Oh, who cares? At the next game, Lord, they're going to deal us in. And we'll wind up the only winners. Ralph, we decided not to work in Cleveland. This is for fun. I've got it all figured out. Well, this is going against everything we decided. We wear masks and disguise our voices. About midnight, we knock on the door and say it's the bellboy. When they open up... Okay, knock, knock.

Yes? What is it? Get set. Bellboy! Where did he sign it? Back in the room and reach. What is it? Go ahead, all of you. Shut up. Okay. On your feet. Quiet! Get up. Now leave the dough on the table. Empty your pockets and don't hold out. What can't you do? Shut up. We're gonna search every one of you before we get out, so put it all out. If you don't, it's 11 floors out that window. Go on, go on. Empty your pockets. That's it. All right, come on, come on.

All right, now, all of you, get in the bathroom. But listen... Get in the bathroom and make it snappy. Go on. Get in there. Hey. Get in there. Shut up. You. Me? Yeah. Shut the door and start counting. When you get to a thousand, you can come out. And count slow. Well, I... Go on, count. One, two, three, four, five... Shut the door. ...six, seven, eight... You got it all? Yeah, about. Take care of the fort. Right.

That's that. All right, come on, let's get out of here. Not yet. Wait a minute. For what? Come on. Take it easy. Now walk up to the bathroom door with me, but quietly. They're gone. Oh, you sure? You sure? Come on, let's open the door. Okay, I'll open the door myself. Start all over again, to a thousand. And if you open that door before you reach a thousand, I'll shoot you right through the head. If you think I'm going to leave or if you think I'm kidding, just try it. One, two, three, four, six, seven, eight.

Inspector LeJard. This is Sergeant Wayne. Cleveland just called me back, Inspector. Oh? They've been checking up there, and they've got a line on the Oliver brothers. Good. As a matter of fact, they had a robbery of a poker game last night. The bandits wore masks, but it looks pretty much like it could be the Oliver brothers. It's their kind of stunt. How about plane reservation, Sergeant? Check on them right away. What time do you want to leave? On the first flight out. Okay, I'll get the tickets and wire Cleveland. We're on the way.

Well, here we are, home again. It was a wonderful party, Lydia. Thanks for letting me tag along. It wouldn't have been the same without you, Lawton. Come on, honey. Good night, Lawton. See you in the morning. I'll be right out. Oh, don't hurry. Take your time. Ralph. Yes, honey? Mother and father asked me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. Good. I'd love to come. I suppose they know things are getting serious. Well, it's about time they know, don't you think?

More than time. Have you got your keys? Yes. Here. Good night, darling. I'll see you... Stay inside a minute, honey. Oh, sure. Lydia, let's get married. Ralph, I... Yes or no. That's all I want to hear. Well? Yes. Oh, honey. Oh, Ralph. Baby, we can... Don't say any more. Let me remember every word. Good night, honey. Good night, darling.

Well, what do you think, Lord? I propose... And what, Oliver? And nothing. Well, police officers, get in. Okay. I guess this is it, Ralph. Yeah. They're waiting here for us. All right, Sergeant. Police headquarters. Police headquarters. That, Don, was the end of the activities of the Oliver brothers, who thought they could lead a double life.

The only life they found, however, was behind penitentiary bars. And in addition, they're now waiting trial on six more robbery indictments. Well, thank you, Sheriff Grosh, for this extraordinary case history. And gangbusters, congratulations to the officers who participated in the investigation and apprehension of these criminals. The Green Hornet.

He hunts the biggest of all game, public enemies that even the G-men cannot reach, the Green Hornet. ♪♪

Oh, my God.

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

Hurry, Cato. We're about to blow the building racket sky high. Stop working on this job. It's ordered. Hey, he's Carlotti's man. I'm a no-worker here. You said it. We're taking an awful chance, Pelton. If Carlotti finds out about this, he'll break me. Look out, it's a bomb. Ah! Ah!

Can I come in? Is Mr. Fletcher... Oh, it's you, dear. Why aren't you home? I'm a builder, honey. I've got a dozen houses here that must go up. But you're not a watchman. Well... Look at me. Has anything else happened? Anything else? What do you mean? Oh, please don't. I'm your wife. You can't fool me with talk.

Yes, the watchman did quit. Because of Carlotti? What's Carlotti got to do with it? It is Carlotti, isn't it? Now look, honey, building's a man's job. He's been threatening you, hasn't he? Just talk. He has, I know it. No racketeer can bust me. So, that's it.

I suspected it when one of your houses caught on fire. I can't prove it was Carlotti. Tell me, what's Carlotti after? What's he doing? What's he after? He's a racketeer, isn't he? He's trying to force builders to pay out money to him. Is that why you had that fire? Because you wouldn't pay? I'm not going to pay. But the other builders, what about them? They're paying him. They're afraid of him. Afraid to talk. I...

I'm afraid, too. Now, don't you worry. Carlotti's tough, but the cops will get him. Sooner or later, they'll get evidence. If something doesn't happen to you first... I wish I had some proof, that's all. Dear, why not pay him? It isn't much, is it? No. He may have the rest hog-tied, but not me. You're going to continue taking chances? I'm an honest builder. The others are honest, too. Yet they've joined Carlotti's association. No racket can rope me in. What's that? That?

He's held his lumber truck. Delivering lumber at midnight? Yeah. Now wait here, honey. I'll be back.

I got your lumber. Thanks, Pelton. You're a right guy. I didn't want to get you in trouble with Carlotti, too. That's why I had you liberated at night. I hope you'll lick him, Fletcher. I sell lumber to the builders and his association, and I can't afford to lose the business. If Carlotti knew, he'd force them to buy from someone else. Yeah, he got him scared to death. Not one of them will talk. Carlotti's clever. Nothing to do with Carlotti.

Nothing can depend on him. Yeah, but they had your nerve, Fletcher. Well, he won't get me. The Daily Sentinel's been talking about him plenty, but nothing definite. Listen, Pelton. Maybe I'm courting disaster bucking Carlotti and his hoodlums. Oh, maybe about it. If Carlotti fails to bulldoze me, those he's intimidated may get their nerve back. Carlotti can't buck the whole bunch. Not if they all follow your lead, Fletcher. Look, look there. Hey, there's someone in my truck. Come on.

What's going on? You one of Carlotti's gangsters? I ordered that lumber. It stays. I don't work for Carlotti. Who are you? That mask. You. You're the Green Hornet. There we are. What the? That car. Don't try to follow me. It's useless. All right, Mr. Fletcher? All fine, Cato. You picked me up perfectly. No mistake. They know who I am. Yes, sir. We've been watching Fletcher's building job for the past several nights, Cato. I knew we'd get something eventually. What was that? You saw those two men and the woman? Who is she? She's Mrs. Fletcher, the builder's wife.

She was trying to persuade him to give in to Carlotti. She was? She was thinking only of her husband's welfare, Cato. She wanted him to give in before Carlotti got tough. Is he going to, Mr. Bates? Cato, from what I heard tonight, I think Fletcher is heading for a lot of trouble. Trouble? Carlotti's a racketeer. The Sunfield's been saying so for quite a while. What I heard tonight proves that Carlotti is cutting in on the builders. He's out to get them all, one by one. Can he do that, Mr. Bates? He's after Fletcher right now. And unless the Green Hornet can stop it...

Fletcher is Carlotti's next victim. This the publisher hangout, sister? It's the publisher's office. Hey, Cassie, I didn't know you had a brother.

So, Cash is your sister, huh? I'm glad to meet you. My name's Axford. Yeah? He's not my brother, you big nudge. But I just heard him say it. Me? I call all the dames sisters. Well, don't. Not with me. Oh, now, take it easy. My name's Carlotti. Is that your boss's office? You can't go in there. Sure I can, sister. Sure. No, you don't. Didn't I tell you my name? I said you don't go in there. Oh, yeah. Ha, ha, ha.

Okay, okay. No hard feelings. I'll find out if Mr. Reed will see you. Yes, Miss Case. A man must see you, Mr. Reed. Is he in an appointment? No, Mr. Reed. He just dropped in. He said that... Yeah, that's it, sister. His name's Carlotti. Carlotti, eh? Miss Case, you tell Mr. Carlotti to wait a few minutes. I'll see him very soon. Very well, Mr. Reed.

Yes, very soon. Hey, boss, did I get that name right? I think so. Carlotti's here to see you? Carlotti? I admit, it is a bit strange. Strange? Say, after the way we've been going at that mug in the Sentinel, I'm surprised he's still in the state. The Sentinel hasn't mentioned names, Lowry. You don't need a signpost to see the road, boss. That guy spells racket ever since he stuck his nose in the jail. Yes, he is an ex-convict. All I hope is he plays a return engagement. Lowry, we know Carlotti's trying to build up a racket in the building business.

He's got more than a dozen of those builders buffaloed already. But we can't prove that. Oh, that word. Why does it keep popping up all the time? All we know about Carlotti is that he started a builders' protective association. Yeah, to protect them against his own hoodlums. How about that fire this builder named Fletcher had? Fletcher hasn't joined, has he? I don't know. Unless the cops pin something on Carlotti, he's going to have to join. I see. Yes, sir? Carlotti, he's still out there, Miss Case? Yes, Mr. Reed. Send him in, please.

I'm curious to know why he's here. Those articles in the Sentinel. He's probably burned up. Undoubtedly, but he won't discuss them directly. He'll lead up to it, I'm sure.

Hey, Mr. Reed. Hi, Mr. Reed. What can I do for you? Who's this mug? Ain't I seen you before? Sure you have. Around your place. Yeah? He's my ace reporter, Carlotti. I sent him. Funny he didn't ever talk to me. I was there for information, Carlotti. I knew I'd never get it from you. Suppose you tell me your business, Carlotti. Why are you here? Me? A couple of things, Mr. Reed. We're not in the market for any protection. Never mind, Lowry.

Well, in the first place, I come to put an ad in your paper. An ad? Yeah, for my Builders Protective Association. We're making a drive for members. I'll bet you are. But before I give it to you, there's a little matter I want to straighten out. You're not referring to the Sentinel's articles by any chance? Yeah, that's it. How did you know? Tell him, boss. You're psychic. You object to those articles, Carlotti? Well, it's this way.

Somebody's got the wrong angle on me. I come around to straighten you out and to give you some business. All right, Carlotti, you've stated your business here. Now I'll give you the answers. There's only one answer.

Drop them articles and you get the ad. And if the Sentinel goes ahead with the series? Hey, I'm off in your dough. That's all you can understand, eh? Money and force. What do you mean? Do you need a gun to build up your protective association? Huh? That's a shoulder holster you're wearing. So what? I got a permit.

Are you going to take my ad or ain't you? The answer is no. What? We believe you're running a racket. We'd like to prove it, but so far we can't. But get this, Carlotti. We're going to keep after your fake outfit until we do. Oh, I'm wasting my time, huh? You are. Now, if there's anything else we can do... You know I can sue you. That's your privilege. Good day. Why, you... I said good day. Hey, Reed. Holy cow, did you see the fire? What fire, Axford? Right here, out the window. Hey, boss, that looks like a three alarm. It's across the river. Check on it, Lowry. You don't have to, Reed.

It's Pelton's Lumberyard. Are you still here, Carlotti? I thought I told you to leave. Sure, I ain't hanging around. Just one moment. Yeah? How do you know it's Pelton's Lumberyard? He has to do a little business with one of the members of the association. Not anymore, he won't. You can see the flames from here. Big, huh? You don't sound surprised, Carlotti. Don't I?

Anything else you want to say before I scram out of this joint? I've rejected your ad. That's all. Okay, Reed. Hey, boss, what was that rat grinning about? It wouldn't amaze me in the least if Carlotti had something to do with that place. Huh? That strong stuff. You heard him. Pelton sells lumber to Carlotti's victims. But Carlotti's in the building racket. What's he doing, branching out? Did you ever hear of a racketeer who didn't lie?

Oh, that's it. Once a racket gets underway, it keeps building up until it's smashed. I can see the fire engines from here. Ain't you going to send somebody to cover that fire? Of course. Get going, Lowry. Okay, boss. Chief, I'm going to dig something up. Mention Carlotti's name. Don't worry. I'll shout it out loud. Holy crow. Hold on to it. One side, you big lug. This is an assignment. Sure it is. What's wrong, X-Ray? Ah, Reed. You ain't going to make me miss the fun, are you? Fun? The fire.

Super Snakes, you know I love to go to fire. This one wasn't built to amuse you. I don't know if we can spare you, Exford. Oh, golly, Reed. I know I'm sort of valuable around the newspaper. All right, Michael, we can spare you this once. You mean it's okay? I can go with Lowry? Yes, but get going before I change my mind. Golly, I'm going to a fire. Did you hear that, Lowry? A regular tree alarm blaze. Well, come on. It'll be out before we get there. I'm coming. Super Snakes, it's some blaze. It is, Exford. A bigger blaze than you think.

That whole place, going up in flames. Now ain't that too bad, Pelton. You, eh? One of Carlotti's boys. Funny, you're being here. Me? I like fires. Ain't it a shame? Now we'll have to have our builders buy someplace else. I can't prove it. But I'll bet Carlotti had a lot to do with this. Like you say, Pelton. You can't prove it.

Now, you know, you hadn't ought to sold lumber to that Fletcher guy. Oh, that's it. I didn't say so, did I? I don't need a diagram. Well, I hope your insurance covers it. Ten thousand feet of prime lumber up in flames and I can't prove a thing.

Well, how about it, Pelton? I'm Lowry from the Sentinel. How did it start? I can't be sure. Did you ask the fire marshal? So, for his name's, what do you think? He says he can't tell not. The way this is going up, there won't be anything left. Golly, Lowry, we don't think it was done deliberately. Oh, shut up, expert. Look at it. There won't be a stick left. Hey, Pelton. Yeah? You do some business with the builders who belong to Carlotti's association? Yes, I do. Is that all you can say? What else do you expect me to say? Just wondering. If I could help you, I would.

But even if Carlotti were mixed up in this, you couldn't prove it? No. I'm sure of it. I've had enough experience with Carlotti to know that. He's one guy that covers his tracks. Yes? Lowry, boss. What about it, Lowry? You got anything from Pelton to the fire marshal? Not a thing, boss. Only suspicions. We can't print suspicions, Lowry. Nothing on Carlotti, huh? Nope. No headline in there, is there? Okay, Lowry. We'll handle the rewrite. Just a plain, ordinary fire. Plain, ordinary fire. Not by a long shot.

But if there's no other way to pin it on Carlotti, it's up to the Green Hornet. The Green Hornet

Immediately after leaving the office, Britt Reid went to his apartment, where he spoke to Cato, his valet and the only living man to know him as the Green Hornet. Pelton's lumberyard was burned to the ground. There's the headline on the Sentinel. Carlotti's spotters must have seen that new lumber at Fletcher's development and checked. And that means Fletcher is next. You go out now, Mr. Bates? The Green Hornet's going out tonight, Cato, to check on a few details.

When the time comes, Carlotti's racket is going to run into the Green Hornet. The curtain falls on the first act of our Green Hornet adventure. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a moment. ♪♪

The End

Now to continue our story. While the Green Hornet secretly checked on the Carlotti mob, a cab driver named Pazzi Petruccelli picked up a man and his wife.

Well, I started this and I'm finishing it.

Building's my business, and no racketeer... It's Dave who'll do the finishing. Carlotti and the Green Hornet. I'm going ahead with that house if it's the last thing I do. It... it may be a tombstone over your grave. Now, take it easy, honey. But those criminals. Carlotti, the Green Hornet. Oh, please, don't do it. I'm sorry, honey. We're ordinary citizens. Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher. We have a right to live, to do business on the level without interference from rackets. And nothing's going to stop me.

Never mind, Casey. I got it. Now, Axford, I'm Mr. Reed's secretary, not you. But you're busy with that stuff, and it's late already. Hello? Michael Axford, general assistant and bodyguard to Britt Reid, publisher of the Daily Central newspaper, which members... Oh, Axford. Huh? Who's speaking? Patsy! Now listen, you little sod-off runt of a cab driver. I'm a busy man. I ain't got time to... Holy crow! What's that? Are you sure you know what you're talking about?

Sure, sure. Very sure I believe you. I'm listening. Suffering snakes. Patsy, you recollect what I called you half-wit? When I take it all back, you got as much brains as me.

Can you imagine, Casey? Golly, I give the little half-pint a compliment and in claims I insulted him. What you did was practically the same as calling him a nitwit. Golly, that's what Patsy said. All right, Axford. What did he call about? Oh, holy crow, can you imagine me forgetting? Patsy had a passenger in his cab. Business must be picking up. You don't get it, Casey. It was the Green Hornet. What?

Potsy's passenger? Sure not. They was talking. Who? Potsy and his passenger? Golly, Cassie, sometimes I think you're a bit slow at the uptake. Hicksford, you big lug, will you explain before I die of curiosity? Ah, ain't that what I'm doing? Now listen. A

A fellow named Fletcher was in Patsy's cab tonight. This fellow said that Carlotti did the job in Pelton's lumberyard. Everybody thinks so, but there's no... This Fletcher must know, because he said Carlotti was coming after him next. What's all this got to do with the Green Hornet? He was butting in on Fletcher, too.

Super Snakes, Casey. Can you see Reed's face when I bring in the harlot I'll capture? You? Well, wasn't I a detective on the force? Where's Lowry? Axford, you big lug, where are you going? Holy crow, you're acting sick into the thicket, Casey. We're going over to Fritz's place. We're going to get the green harlot if we have to wait for him till doomsday.

Across the city from the Daily Sentinel building, a sleek black car raced through the night. At the wheel was a mysterious figure, his eyes gleaming through a mask. The Green Hornet. The greed's hand guided the black beauty to a deserted alley behind the racketeer's hangout. Wait here, Cato, where you can watch. I understand, Spitz. I'm going to need your help in a few minutes. You know when to follow me. The Green Hornet.

Rick Reed made his way cautiously to the open window next to the door. Flattening his back against the wall, he listened to the conversation within. Have you got the bomb, Turk? Right here, Carlotti. I got a tip from one of the boys. We're blasting Fletcher's house before it's built. Tonight? Right now. I made it just like you said, with a five-minute fuse. Sure. I want this pineapple planted just right, see? I ain't taking no chances on somebody's throwing arm. What's making you so jumpy? Is it the Green Hornet? What do you know about the Hornet? It ain't no secret.

Helped him spill it when his lumberyard burnt down. Ah, talks, that's all it was. Sure, sure. Come on. Take this bomb and plant it like I told you. Is the Hornet cutting in on our record? Listen, Turk.

Nobody cuts in on me, see? I handle plenty of guys and I don't scare easy. When I see that Hornet, I'll... You'll what, Carlotti? What the... You... You... Masked. Listen, Hornet, I was just talking. How much is your take, Carlotti? Why, I... You can't muscle in on us, Hornet. Expect me to talk with a gun pointing at me? You don't have to talk. Huh? I know your whole racket right down to the ground. You're a rat and I don't like rats. Who you calling a rat? Shut up, you. You don't have to poke that cat in my ribs. Oh.

You said you wouldn't cut anybody in. So what? Still feel that way? I don't know who you are, Hornet, and I don't give a hang. But it still goes. I'm giving you a warning now. The bigger the racket, the sooner I get in on it. Yeah? Yeah.

Well, maybe we can talk about... Get your hand away from that shoulder holster. Me? Don't reach for a gun or I'll... No, you don't. The lights. He turned out the lights. Get him, boss. I can't see him. Where is he? He's around someplace. Blast this darkness. Carlotte, he got me. Yes. What's the matter, Turk? Watch him. Where are you? Drop that gun. I said drop it. Try and make...

That's better. My wrist, you're broken. Nothing wrong with you. Just a tap from a gun butt. You finished off Turk? Yes. And you're getting a dose of the same. You can't... Take it down. Gas, my throat. Cool.

talking to each other in the darkness so I couldn't help but know where they were. Who's that? I heard noise. Are you all right? Yeah. Why did I turn on the light? I thought it was you, but I couldn't be sure. Are they... They'll be unconscious only for a short time. Here, help me with this table, Cato. Yes, sir. There.

The bomb is somewhere around there. Put it on this table, Kato. I have it. Very heavy. Now these. What are they? Tools, Kato. We haven't much time. Those rats must go ahead with their bombing. But, Mr. Brant. I said they're going ahead. And we're going to see that they do. I don't understand. This bomb is going to be planted in Fletcher's house, just as I figured. Now, you're a chemist, Kato. What's inside this bomb? I have to roll. All right, we'll open it up. Careful. I don't want any of our fingerprints on it.

Under Britt Reid's direction, Cato worked swiftly, using his knowledge of chemistry to advantage. A half hour later, Britt Reid spoke. That's fine. Your handkerchief. Yes, sir. They mustn't suspect a thing. How about he's coming too? Gather up those tools. Cato, we're leaving. Hurry, Cato. Into the car. All right? Let's go. All right.

A few moments later, Carlotti and Turk recovered from the effects of the gas and examined the bomb. It looks okay to me. He ain't touched this bomb, boss. I ought to know I made it. Green Hornet, huh? He gassed us and then got scared. Okay, Turk, on your way. You want me to go through with it? You heard me. The Hornet thinks he can bulldoze me, but I don't scare easy. Plant this bomb.

Now, these loose boards. I'll plant this bomb if I don't break my neck first. Put it here, Tate. Here's the best place. You've got a nerve, Hornet, after gassing me and Carlotti. Next time, you won't get off so easy. Do as I say. How do I know you ain't told the cops? When I be here, the cops want me more than they do you. Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm interested in this rocket. I don't need the police. Yeah, no sense ruining it for everyone. Now, plant that bomb. Now, listen. Let's talk. Get busy. Okay, you don't have to get tough.

Here's a match. The fuse is burning. Let's grab it. Out that way. Out the back. Hurry before it explodes. I tell you, Lowry, I seen a light in there. In a half-built house? Don't be crazy, Axford. I'm going in to see. Axford, if you drag me in a wild goose chase, I'll... Charlie, I told you. It ain't no wild goose. It's the Green Hornet. He got the tips fed from Patsy. You're bad enough without dragging in that screwy cab driver. Ah, the little blister ain't so bad.

If you don't let him get in your hair... Now, wait a minute. Suffering snakes, for all we know, the hornet may be in there right now. If you saw a light and I said if, the hornet's gone by now. If it was the hornet in the first place. I'll find out soon enough. You stick out here to cover the retreat. Okay, it's your funeral. Ah, golly, he's hard to convince. Wait till he sees me walking out of here with me fist in the hornet's collar. Then he'll... What's that? Sounds like somebody hissing.

Like a snake. There ain't no snakes around here. Holy crow! I see it now. A spruck and a fuse. It's a bomb. I gotta get it. I gotta be following it.

He was there, Carlotti. What are you talking about? Where have you been? You should have been back a half hour ago. The Hornet. I had the bomb in my hand. What? The Hornet was at Fletcher's place? Ain't I telling you. Boss, when that guy comes back, you better play ball with him. He's tough. Did he stop you? Snap out of it, Turk. Did that bomb go off or didn't it? Sure it went off. Soon as I lit the fuse, I scrammed out. I heard it go off. Then what are you yapping about the Hornet for? I told you, he was right in his spot. Did he try to stop you? No, he told me where to plant the bomb. Hey, I'm sorry.

I don't get that lug, Carlotti. Why didn't you head right back here? Because I couldn't. The Hornet, huh? Yeah, he clipped me on the jaw as soon as the blast went off. Okay. He said he was going to cut in on me. When he shows up, we'll be ready for him. Who's that? That ain't the Hornet. Now take a look. What's the... What's the matter? It's for your friend, boss. It's the cops. The cops. We'd better scramble. Oh, it ain't got nothing on us.

Keep them up, Collier. You rats. Plant bombs, will you? Hey, what is this? I don't know what you're talking about. Axford was in that house, in Fletcher's house, when the bomb went off. So what? We ain't got nothing here. Don't put that bomb there. You're crazy. You can prove it. No, you're lying. Lying, are we? Axford went in. He saw that bomb. Yeah, too bad. He ain't alive. Blown a bit, huh? And you think we done it? Never mind acting smart, Collier. That's the guy who's the class of that bomb. Leave me at him. We got him, Axford. Axford? What you said? I thought that pineapple went off. How come this guy ain't blasted to bits? I'll tell you why you're yelling at me with scope.

because the final effort but i think that they cannot make or what problem if they can work out there was enough for the bomb about the kind of way it back that's right the bomb was intact what's more that you're going to bring to all over again fingerprint you want to hear your through your own your whole record they got a spot that black green water he had to go out

and set a bomb off in that beacon lock. Will you stop with me? Look out, Lowry. You've got to go. Stop him. Break for the car, boss. No, you don't. Stop the gun, Carlotti. Oh, no. Don't hit me again. I give up. Okay. Okay, you got us. Come on, you rat. You're going in the car, all right. In the police wagon. If that bomb had gone off... It didn't go off, Carlotti. It was a dud. But it was still big enough to blast your crooked racket all over the front page. Oh!

That's the last three papers! Building racketeers arrested! Crooks and fat families! Read all about it! Green-hearted children! That's the last three papers! That's the last three papers!

♪♪

Oh, my God.

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

And now, The Hall of Fantasy. Welcome to The Hall of Fantasy. Welcome to the series of radio dramas dedicated to the supernatural, the unusual, and the unknown. Come with me, my friends.

We shall descend to the world of the unknown and forbidden, down to the depths where the veil of time is lifted, and the supernatural reigns as king. Come with me and listen to the tale of the shadow people.

Elaine, have you been... I mean, have you seen anything else since you spoke to me last? No, I haven't. Ever since Mother died, nothing's happened. Well, I only hope that... It came from upstairs. Come on. I don't know what to think. I only hope that... Damn it, if anything's happened to him... We'll see in a moment. There's no light in this room. You wait here, Elaine. Where's the light? Over to your left.

David. What's wrong? Why didn't you leave the light on? Your father's dead, Elaine. In just a moment, the Hall of Fantasy will present The Shadow People. And now for our story. An original tale of fantasy by Richard Thorne entitled The Shadow People. Somewhere along the line of your life, you've met them.

You have come in contact with the Shadow People. When did we first discuss it? Oh, yes. Brian and Elaine and I.

It was in my apartment. There was only one light on in the entire place. What's wrong? Elaine, what's the matter? It's silly, I know, but I thought I saw something in that doorway over there. Where? Over there, right over there. Where are you going, David? Over to that archway, just to let you know that nothing's here. You see, Elaine, nothing's wrong, nothing at all. Are you satisfied that there's no one else here but us?

Yes, I... Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought that I... Leave the overhead lights on. I'm sorry. I thought that... Put them back on, David, please. All right, Elaine. Look, what's bothering you, sis? I don't know. It's just that... I don't know. Tell us about it, Elaine. Tell us what's bothering you. You promise that you won't laugh at me? Of course not. Brian? Elaine, I'm your brother. If something's troubling you, I'd like to know about it. All right, then. Elaine.

The reason I was so upset was the fact that I saw someone or something standing in that archway. But, Elaine, David showed you that there was no one else in here. When the lights were put on, you saw for yourself that we were alone. I'm not talking about something you can see in the light, Brian. I'm not talking about a human being. Then what's it all about, Elaine? In the darkness, I saw something that can't be seen in a lighted area.

And I've seen it several times before. You're sure you're not imagining this, Elaine? Oh, I don't have that good an imagination, Brian. How long have you... Have you seen this thing, Elaine? Well, it... It started about six weeks ago. You were in Detroit on business, Brian. Mom and Dad were on vacation. I was in the house by myself. In the library. There was only one light on. I sat in the chair beneath it, reading...

Several times I thought that something was watching me. I felt there was someone in the room with me, standing right in back of me. Every so often I'd glance back over my shoulder, but there seemed to be nothing there. And then, then I thought I heard someone whispering. I wasn't sure, but when I heard it again, I got up and I looked all over the house. Oh, I'm not easily frightened, you know that, but out in the hallway...

It was almost entirely black. Luckily, I was near a light switch. I looked back over my shoulder... and I saw this huge, hulking shape for the first time. And I heard a voice. Or rather, the whisper of a voice. I couldn't distinguish the words. But that dark shape seemed to be moving towards me. My hand was on the light switch and I turned it on. In a minute, the light flooded the hallway. The shape was gone. There was nothing there...

I was alone again. As long as there's light, I know it can't hurt me. I know it can't reach me. You might have imagined it, you know. Of course that's possible, but I'm sure I didn't. It was so real. So real, that shape in the darkness. It was the very essence of evil itself. No!

There was an old man I knew of, a Dr. Hesedius. I'd heard that he knew quite a good deal about the supposed supernatural manifestations which had taken place in the world. I went to him to see if he knew anything that might explain the events of the story Elaine had told us. Yes, my good sir.

What do you wish? I have an appointment with Dr. Decelius. Oh, yes. If he mentions something about it, you are Mr. Drake. Yes. If you'll come inside. Thank you. Dr. Decelius is in the study. Please come in.

Please come with me. Doctor, a visitor for you. Oh, yes. Bring him in. You may go now. Yes, Doctor. Mr. Drake? Yes. Sit down, please, in that chair over there. Hello.

Thank you, sir. Now, what is the nature of your visit to me? Well, I understand, Dr. Veselius, that you have a great knowledge of the supernatural manifestations which have occurred on the earth. Great knowledge, Mr. Drake? No, hardly that. I have only scratched the surface in my years of study. Perhaps I can help you, then again. Perhaps I cannot. Well, may I tell you the story? By all means, my good sir. All right. Now, this didn't happen to me, doctor, but to my fiancée.

It seems that about six weeks ago, she was alone. But when the light was on, the dark form disappeared. And that's the story, sir. As much of it as I can remember. I see. It's a strange tale to tell. I'm fully aware of that, Dr. DeCivius. You say she seemed to hear whispered voices? Yes, that's what she says. I see. A moment, please. I have a book in my file.

Oh, yes. Here it is. This is the one. Yes. Perhaps I may be able to help you out through all. Let me see. This is a very ancient book, Mr. Drake. I seem to remember... Yes. Here is an account of a happening such as you relate...

And we shall live on the earth and they shall not see us. Yes, it has been foretold by the ruler of the darkness. They who live by day, retire to sleep by night, shall never know that we walk with them, that we watch them, that we wait for our chance. Only in the night will they see us.

For in the daylight, we are not seen. Only in the night, when the darkness grows together and the forms of the shadow people are shaped from the blackness, they will know us. They will know that we are their companions forever.

For we are the shadow people. I knew I had read something similar to the story you have told me, Mr. Drake. Dr. Asilius, what can we do? Well, give me a little time. Let me see if I can find any more references to these people of the darkness. One more thing, Mr. Drake. Be sure that your fiancée is never left alone at night.

Be sure that there is some living thing, animal or human, which accompanies her every second of the night. For she is in danger, Mr. Drake. A terrible danger. Back now to our story. An original tale of fantasy by Richard Thorne entitled The Shadow People. That night, the night of the day I had seen Celius, Elaine's mother died.

She died in her sleep. When she failed to appear for breakfast, Elaine's father went upstairs to see what was wrong. When he entered her room, he discovered that she was dead. The family doctor couldn't explain it, for Elaine's mother had been in perfect health. A few weeks later, I was out of the house spending a weekend with him. I glanced at the clock in the mantel, and it showed eleven. Eleven.

I can't understand why Brian hasn't returned from town. Well, he said he had some extra work to catch up on. He told me this morning that he might be late. Well, seven o'clock, I'm going upstairs. Glad you came out, David. It's good seeing you again. It's a pleasure to be here, sir. Well, don't stay up too late. See you both in the morning. Good night. Good night, Dad. Good night, Mr. Davis. He isn't the same, David. Ever since Mother died, he hasn't been the same. I didn't realize that until tonight.

He's changed. I only hope that he'll start living again. Ever since she died, it seems that a part of him died with her. Elaine, have you been... I mean, have you seen anything else since you spoke to me last? No, I haven't.

Ever since Mother died, nothing's happened. Well, I only hope... What's that? It came from upstairs. Come on. You don't think... I don't know what to think. I only hope... David. David, if anything's happened to us... We'll see in a moment. There's no light in this room. You wait here, Elaine. Where's the light? Over to your left. Come on.

David, what's wrong? Why didn't you leave the light on? Your father's dead, Elaine. I'd walked into the darkened bedroom. On the bed was Elaine's father. It didn't take a second look for me to know that he was dead. I switched off the light and walked back into the hallway to tell Elaine what happened. And then from the room there had come an eerie, quiet laughter. Elaine?

In the darkness of that room was some unknown evil power. The voice itself was unearthly. There was no substance to it. It sounded as if...

As if it came from the darkness itself. No. No, I don't believe you. It's the truth, Elaine. There's nothing more I can do. We'll have to notify the police. Tell me it's not the truth, David. Tell me it's not the truth. I'm sorry, Elaine. I wish I could. The father's dead. After the burial, Dr. Heselius got in touch with me.

He said that he wanted to meet both Elaine and Brian. That he wanted to talk to the three of us. Accordingly, a few nights later, he came out to their house. Mr. Davis, will you tell me just when you saw the first manifestation...

The night Brian was in Detroit. Now, Miss Davis, you have even seen this apparition in the company of other people. Is that correct? Yes. The night at David's apartment. All right. Now I'll tell you what I think. You are in deadly danger, Miss Davis. These beings want to claim you. So far, they have had no success.

Only in the darkness do they have power. Little by little, step by step, they have been removing the obstacles in their way to reaching you. First your mother, and then your father, Miss Davis. Both died in the same fashion. In the darkness, death struck at them. Now tell me, do you feel their presence here in this room as I talk to you?

Yes. Turn out the lights, Brian. Stand by the switch, if you please, Brian. If anything happens, turn the lights back on. All right. Dr. Asilius, I don't... Do you want me to continue working with you? Yes, sir. All right, then. Brian, turn off the lights. Yes, doctor. The room now is in darkness, Miss Davis. Do you feel or see anything? No, I... Yes.

Yes, I do. Do you see anything? Yes. Doctor, I don't... Be quiet, you fool. I know what I'm doing. In front of me, the darkness gathering together into a huge, terrible... Not only do you see us, Miss Davis, but everyone else in the room also will see the vague shapes forming themselves in the blackness. We do not want you, Doctor Aesthetius. The girl we want...

We advise you to drop this case. You will only bring down the wrath of the shadow people upon your head. The girl. We want the girl. Do not stop us. Let us take her now. Turn on the light. They're gone. Miss Davis, are you all right? Yes. Yes, I am. Just as she said. The darkness...

I saw it form into something, too. So did I. What are we going to do, Dr. Assis? At the present moment, I don't know. But this much I do know. You must leave this house immediately. You must try to get out of their reach. I don't know if that is possible. I hope it is. I shall have to return to my home. I must learn if there is some manner by which we can defeat these creatures. For the moment, leave this house. Dispose of it. In any manner you may see fit, but leave this house.

Back now to our story, an original tale of fantasy by Richard Thorne entitled The Shadow People. We had spent the night in my apartment, the three of us. The following day, Brian and Elaine made arrangements to dispose of the house. In the afternoon, Dr. Veselius called me and asked that I come to see him.

David, I'm glad you're here. Anything new, Doctor? Yes and no. You realize, of course, that this spiritual manifestation is not new. That it has gone on for centuries. No, I wasn't aware of that. It's true, David. De Mupissant wrote what was supposedly a fiction story about the manifestation, David. He called it Orla. However, according to the information here on my desk, it was taken from an actual case history.

Of course, he embroidered the story, added a few touches to something he didn't realize actually existed. But have you found anything with which we can fight them? Everything depends upon an answer I received from a colleague of mine in Paris, Dr. Henri Renault. I dispatched a telegram to him last night. Why hasn't he answered by now? There are certain things that must be done. It will take a few days, I'm afraid. We have to wait, David.

There's nothing else we can do. In the next few days, the house was sold and Brian and Elaine moved into a newer, more modern home a few miles from my apartment. Cecilia said it might take a few days for them to build up their power. I spent the night at the new house. The lights were left on and I watched for any unusual occurrence. In the daytime, I'd return to my apartment and get some sleep.

About four days after Elaine and Brian moved into the new house, I was at home when Hesedius phoned me. Hello? David? Yes, Dr. Hesedius? I hate to tell you this, David. What's the matter? What's wrong? They were a step ahead of me, David. I just received word that Renaud died or was killed. At the very moment I sent the telegram to him...

Step by step, they had outwitted us. They had anticipated every move we'd make. Even Dr. Hesedius was at a loss as to what to do. He agreed to meet me at the Davis house.

What did you want to see us about, Dr. Sillies? Did you find out anything more? I'm sorry to say that I haven't. At the moment, I'm at a complete loss. I don't know what to do. But what did you want to see us about this evening? Merely to check, to see if anything else has happened. Miss Davis, have you seen or heard anything? Not in the house. Only in my dreams. Your dreams? Yes. When I go to sleep at night, in my dreams, in the darkness, I see them. And it's grown worse, much worse. I was hoping that it would not have progressed so far.

There has been no disturbance in this house, but now they disturb your sleep, Miss Davis. Now, you must stay awake for as long as you can. I want the three of you to move into my house. Perhaps that will give you more protection. That night, we moved over to the Seedius house. Perhaps Elaine would have more protection there.

From there, we might be able to devise some plan of action, some way to beat those beings. For a few days, things were quiet. The shadow people seemed to have withdrawn. For a while, I thought that we might have succeeded in thwarting their purpose. Elaine no longer complained of troubled sleep. But that condition lasted for a few days only. About ten days later...

They made themselves known and felt again. That night we were in the study when suddenly Acelius whirled around and... Helene, what are you looking at? Outside the house. Right where the light leaves off, I see them. She's right, Dr. Acelius. I can see them too. What should we do, doctor? Nothing. What do you mean, nothing? There's nothing we can do. We can't just... We can't do anything, Brian. Don't you understand that they have us at their mercy?

The greatest man in my field was Henri Renault. If he could do nothing against them, what do you think we can do? He's right, Brian. There's nothing we can do. As long as the house remains lighted, just so long will they remain outside.

If the lights were... That sounds... Oh, my father was killed. The same sound. We heard the same sound. The lights. What's happened to the lights? Be quiet, please. I thought of this emergency. A candle. That's right, Miss Davis. As long as this burns, this one candle will be safe. For they cannot advance into the light. They are limited by the darkness.

As long as the candle burns, they will have to remain outside of this room. Around you, in every room of the house, in the darkness outside, we are around you. This time you shall not escape. This time we will claim you.

Take it easy, Brian. I can't stand it. I can't stand it. Brian, come back. Don't be a fool. I'm going after him. Stay here. We just can't let him go. He won't have a chance. I doubt it. Miss Davis, I'm afraid that your brother is dead. The wind, Doctor. Listen to the wind. I know. I know.

Yes, Doctor. Listen to the wind. You must realize by now that the three of you haven't a chance. You must know in your minds that we can destroy you at any moment we desire. But, Doctor Aesilius, you may still save your own life. Let the others go. Give them to us. No. No.

No, you will have to take all of us. Shall we destroy your light? Shall we move in on you now? As you will. Do as you will. I'm sorry, David. The candle is out. In the darkness. Take care again in the darkness. No!

We warned you, Aesilius. You and the others are dead now. And we shall live on the earth. And man in the day shall not see us. They will know that we wait for our chance. That we walk with them. Only in the night, when the darkness grows together...

The forms of the shadow people are shaped from the blackness. Will they see us? Then they will know that we are their companions. Look next to you. There, in the shadows. So runs tonight's tale of the unusual, the terrifying, the unknown.

Join us again when next we journey down the corridors of the Hall of Fantasy to hear another strange tale of the supernatural. All characters and events portrayed in these programs are fictional, and any similarity to actual events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. ♪♪

Presenting Orson Welles as the Third Man. The lives of Harry Lyme. The fabulous stories of the immortal character originally created in the story The Third Man with Zither music by Anton Karas.

Her name was Susie, but she was very, very far from being a floozy. She was lovely and she was a countess. And I mean a genuine countess, too. I can vouch for that. I checked on her ancestry to be sure about these things. When I first met up with her, she was suffering from a complaint not uncommon among the post-war aristocracy of Western Europe, the main symptoms of which are expensive tastes and a certain emptiness of the purse. Forget what I mean.

That's how we came to team up, in fact. And since Carl and I turned out to be just the supers and Susie was the star, I'll call this little adventure Susie's Cube. And now, Orson Welles as Harry Lyme, the third man, in today's story, Susie's Cube.

What brought me to Vienna was a hint that for an astute financier like myself, there was an honest buck or two to be made on the international currency market. Not blank. You understand, just a pale shade of gray.

My informant had neglected to mention, however, that the regulations were being policed with ghoulish enthusiasm by the authorities of the four occupying powers. And as four against one is tough odds in any language, be it French, Russian, American, or British, I decided that the lime neck was too valuable a thing to risk being stuck out. There were three hours to go before the next plane back to Paris, so I was filling in time in the American bar in the Hotel Continental, reading an afternoon newspaper.

At the next table, there was a man and a woman. He was the German officer type, you know, tall and straight back with that scar down one cheek. And she was, well, let's just say she had everything all in the right proportions and all in the right places. As I read on, I was vaguely conscious of the man rising. He left the barn, and after a while he came back, and the next second he was beside me with a click of a heel from a stiff military bow.

Please forgive this interruption. Certainly. The bookstall has no newspapers. We are wanting most anxiously to know the result of a case in the court today which is bound to be reported. Could I possibly be troubling you a little more? For my newspaper? No, no. Here you are. Go ahead. You are being most kind. I'm sure. Here we are. On the front page, as I call it. Baron Wynne's claim, court order against divorced wife. Here's one. Sprint it. You hear that, Susie? Here's one. I am so glad...

Your paper. A thousand texts. Oh, well, why not take it over to your friend over there and read the report in detail? No, no, no. This is only the verdict we are wanting. The Baron is being a friend of ours. Again, our grateful thanks. Auf Wiedersehen. Auf Wiedersehen, old man.

Curiosity being one of the lime failings, as soon as my heel-picking friend had returned to his own table, I read the story through. It seemed a certain Baron Dortmunder had been suing his divorced wife for the return of a family heirloom, a diamond necklace, which was reputed to have been owned by Marie Antoinette. The wife's defense was that it had been a present to her, that the court had ruled this out in order to return a necklace forthwith, speculating idly on what chance a fellow would have of disposing of a little thing like this necklace.

He had to come into his possession when suddenly there was another quick appeal. Your pardon, please. Oh, it's you again. You will forgive this insistence, but am I wrong? I think that I correct in believing you to be Herr Leibniz. Oh, yes, yes. Leibniz is my name. The Herr Leibniz.

What can I do for you, Herr... Carl Clausen. Carl Clausen. Glad to know you, Herr Clausen. The pleasure is, I'm sure, in you mutual. Yes, I'm sure. You have been reading the story of the Baron's necklace? Yes, matter of fact, I have. You are finding it of interest? Yes, in a small way. I'm quite a collector of object myself, you know, so it is said.

Yes. Well, I had no idea I was so well known at Marybeth. In our business, it is desirable to be well informed. May I ask what is your business, Herr Clauser? Perhaps the same as yours. It is possible you have been wondering how, if one is chancing to possess such a necklace, one would find for it the right buyer. Huh?

Are you a mind-reading act or something? Go right on, please. And it is occurring to the Countess and myself that you may be interested in a proposition of business. You are following what I mean? I have already a buyer for the necklace of $100,000. American dollars, old man? Yeah. Well, if I fall, no one can say I wasn't tempted. Lead on, Herr Clauser. The End

And that's how I came to meet Susie. Their plan was simple enough. The Baron Dortmund lived alone, except for a housekeeper and a man servant and a small villa in one of the suburbs. Every Thursday night, the housekeeper went off duty. Next Thursday, Susie planned to get the Baron out of the house by entertaining him at dinner. I'd left only the man servant. Clouser was to cope with him by calling on the pretense of wanting to see the Baron and then keeping the fellow standing by while he wrote a long note. Meanwhile, with the coast clear upstairs, I was to purloin the necklace.

It is maybe because we have a lot. The bedroom is on the first floor and from the bottom is the back end. From the garden there is a lattice screen that leads to the bathroom. Yes, yes. A childhood play. Well, that may be, honey, but I'm trying to tell you that I'm not a professional thief. Even if I get into the room, what do I do then? I imagine the necklace will be under lock and key, won't it? You'll have to ask.

I'll get hold of that. Well, perhaps you may be a service someday. So one evening when I was dining, he said, Alan, he drank a little too much champagne. And when he was not looking, I took an impression of the key in her. Susie is what you call a make-out, too. Obviously. I'd certainly like to oblige, but... But what, my friend? You give such assorted detail, but...

What's in it for Harry Lyme? Oh, we have not yet turned this card. No, we have not yet turned this card. How stupid of us. When the necklace is sold, what say you to one hit of the problem? I can answer that in one word, Herr Clauser. What would Herr Lyme suggest? A three-way split, one-third each. You want a third? For me, it is agreed. But Susie! What would one deserve to put in Herr Lyme's bag? Here's the one you take.

Thank you, Count. Is that okay with you, Herr Clauser? As we were all living in the one hotel, I saw quite a lot of Susie and Carl in the next couple of days. We

Already around the Christian name terms, little Carl and Toe, that was about as much solid progress as I could make. And it wasn't until Wednesday evening, the night before we planned to relieve Baron of the necklace, that we managed to grab ourselves a few minutes alone. There was a beer garden next to the hotel with an orchestra that played nothing but waltzes. Harry, I wish you were alive to talk to me. Well, here I am. No, no, you're too proud of yourself. Too much noise. Where came the gate? It's beyond that gate over there. No people? No people.

I think we've been wasting our time here. As we went through the gate and left the dancers and the music behind, my heart skipped a jump or two, and I had a sort of crazy, excited feeling, like a high school boy about to embark on his first love affair. Half of me was saying, go easy, Harry. Don't start something you can't finish. And the other half was longing to take Susie. You are seeming a little nervous, Harry. You are not worried about tomorrow night. Oh, no, no, no, Gretchen.

You're not objecting? You have joined with Carl and me? Oh, I'm glad. It is bringing to me much happiness, Elizabeth. You're so different from every other man I have known. Harry, when is it over? When the necklace is sold and we have divided the money, what will you do? Well, it might be very healthy to stick around here. I guess I'll go back to Paris. I shall miss you then. Why not come too? If only I could. What's to stop you? Oh, Carl. You mean...

You and Pete? Uh-huh. You have not yet. Well, I have wondered a few times. Once for a little while, we will be lovers. It is all over now since a long time, and we are just what you call associates of business. It is agreed what I do is my own affair, but he is by disposition very jealous, and I am always afraid. Listen, leave Carl to me. I've handled tougher guys than him. Susie, with the moonlight on your face and your hair, you're lovelier than ever. Am I?

Loveliest thing I've ever seen. He's Harry the Martian. I'm crazy. Harry. You will come with me to Paris, won't you? Oh, I... I'll try. Please let me go. Someone is coming. Okay, we'll get back to the subject later, huh?

I don't know just how much Carl was responsible, but I didn't get a chance to see Susie alone all next day, so the question of the future stayed up in the air. Now, of course, there was something even more important to think about, Operation Necklace. Around about nine o'clock, Susie went off to keep her dinner date with the Baron. An hour after that, Carl and I left the hotel separately. We met again later, according to plan, in a dark laneway that ran beside the Baron's villa. I left myself quietly at the end of the Baron's garden.

and hid behind a big shrub. Then Carl went openly to the front door and pulled the bell. A short pause. Good evening, you are here. Oh, it's you, Herr Klaus, huh? I crossed the lawn, and in another second I was climbing up the lattice. It was even easier than I'd thought. The latch on the bedroom door was old and loose, and in half a minute it was open and I was inside. I switched on a small flashlight, located the safe, turned the key that Susie had given me. It opened as sweetly as a dream. There was a lot of other stuff in the safe, but...

It was a necklace I was after. I found it at last, in a plush-lined case. I took one quick glance. It looked all right to me. A hundred thousand dollars was a bargain basement price for a set of rocks like that. I closed the safe, and then, as I was moving the balcony door, it happened. A small chair I failed to see and stumbled into. I paused for a moment, holding my breath. Then I heard feet pounding up the stairway, and voices. Where do you think it came from? From the master's bedroom.

This way. There wasn't any time to escape. I slipped behind a set of heavy curtains by the window, and as I did so, I wondered, was this just an accident? Or had Carl found out about Susie and me? Was this a double cross? In a moment, Orson Welles returns as Harry Lyme, the third man.

And now, Orson Welles as Harry Lyme, the third man, continues today's story, Susie's Cube. In another second, Carl and the Baron's servants were in the room. My hand was on my gun, ready. If it was a double cross, Carl was going to be very sorry indeed. The light clicked on.

No one here, you ask? He may be hiding. Nonsense. You must have imagined it. Look, Herr Klaus, sir. That chair is fallen over. That is no imagination. And the balcony door is unlatched. But you're sure you locked it? Quite sure. In that case, he's probably escaped into the garden. I see no one. That chair's got fear by now. Herr Klaus, sir, will you stay here, please, while I'm going down and telephoning the police? But is that necessary? It's what I have para-moodled.

All right. Off with you. Take it. You can come out now. Thanks. Fool. I'm nearly bungling the whole scene. I warned you this was out of my line. It's done now. Yes, I got a good one, Nicholas. You'd better go by this time. Wait for me in your room. Okay. See you later, sweetheart. Twenty minutes later, I was back at the hotel. I waited in my room till after midnight. I was just beginning to wonder, was there something gone wrong?

There was a cautious knock on the door, repeated three times. It was Carl's signal. Is everything all right? Sure, come in. You have caused me much trouble, Harry. Much embarrassment. And so what? No one can possibly suspect you. You're getting all steamed up about nothing, old man. This is maybe. But it makes for all of us much difficulty. With lack of Aaron, his loss might not have discovered for many days. By this time, we should all be out of Vienna and into Clia. Now the police are active and anything may happen.

You have the necklace, sir? Yes, of course I do. Let me see. There. Feast your eyes on that. It is too much. You said it. I am seeing that midday tomorrow is this man who wishes to buy. He will have the money in cash. Before I hand over the necklace, don't you think we should let Susie have a look at it, too? Why? After all, she's in this as much as you and I. She entitled to some visual proof that I'm handing it over to you. Suppose tomorrow morning you deny that I have.

Who's she to believe? You or me? You are doubting my integrity? Oh, no, no, no, no, not at all. Not at all. I just like to be sure. Herr Lime, I remind you I am a closer. That means I am a gentleman. A gentleman's word is his bond. That is something perhaps you would not understand. Now, take it easy, Carl. Elsewhere and in other circumstances, you would be obliging me to seek satisfaction. I bet you swung a nifty saber in the good old days at Heidelberg. No need to blow your top now. The necklace, please. Times have changed. The necklace.

There you are. Thank you. And, Carl. Yes? Maybe I did speak a little out of turn, if so, I'm sorry, old man. That is all right. You're perhaps both speaking a little on edge this evening. No hard feelings? Of course not, Harry. That's fine. And, by the way, where is Susie now? Have you seen her? Only for a minute. She was already here at the hotel when I returned. I managed to speak a few words with her. How did she get along with the Baron? It seems the dinner was disturbed abruptly when word came to the Baron of the robbery. So he went off with the police and she came back here.

By now, I'm imagining she's asleep. Well, that mightn't be a bad idea for all of us, one way or another. It's quite an evening. Good night, Carl. I was disappointed. I sort of hoped Susie had dropped in before she called it a night. I waited up another hour on the off chance that she would, but no sign of her. So I turned in. Next morning, she wasn't down for breakfast. At 11 o'clock, she still hadn't appeared. I went into the bar and bought myself a drink, just as I was beginning to get really worried. There she was.

Looking fresher and lovelier than ever. Good morning, Harry. Hello there. Where have you been? Why haven't I seen you? I've had to, as you call it, lie low. Lie low? Why? The police. You say you've been tailed? Yes. But how come? Must they possibly suspect you? I do not think they are suspecting me exactly. Well? But they are interested in me. Because I was last night with the bell. And so, for the time being, I have to be careful.

I have news for you. Important news. What is it? I'm afraid that Carl, he's how you say it, double-crossing us.

You must be wrong, Susie. I grant you he's a bit of a pain in the neck, but after all, he's an aristocrat and a gentleman. Would you be interested to know that Carl's mother was a waitress in a beer garden? What? And that his father died in prison, where he was spending 20 years for robbery with violets. You're kidding. And that Carl was brought up in the slums and gutters of Vienna, and that before he was of age, he was three times in jail for picking pockets. Oh, it can't be true. All that smooth politeness, that... It is true. I am very upset, Richard. You have three years, Richard.

Sure. Last night. Then perhaps you will explain to me why he has booked a seat, a single seat on the one o'clock plane for Zurich. Is that a fact, Susie? Yes, I have checked it for myself. So that's his little game. Well, he doesn't think he can get away with it, truly. What are you going to do? I'm going to get that necklace, of course. Thank you.

In a long and disillusioned career, I've had to deal with many double crosses, and experience has taught me there's only one way to do it. That's to get in first and never give the other guy a chance. So when I burst in on Carl in his room, my gun was already in my hand. Hey, what is the meaning of this? I do not understand. You can say that no-cum-pre stuff, old man. But I assure you... Don't reach for your pocket either. This happens to be loaded and might just go off.

The necklace, where is it? Please, if you would only explain. You heard me, the necklace. I'll give it three seconds. Fine, fine. It is in my hip pocket. All right, turn around. But I told you. Do as you're told, no tricks. Very well. That's more like it. Right.

Come on, I'll take charge of this, old man. If you will please to tell me what this is all about. Can't you guess, Carl? I can only assume it is what you call double-crossing. That comes very well from you, you two-timing crook. It's important. Now listen to me, Herr Clauser. This is Harry Lyme talking, so get it straight. What I was going to say to Carl remained unsaid.

At that moment, the door was flung open, and in burst an inspector and the biggest, toughest cop I'd ever seen. Here is the man, Glauser. Arrest him. Yes, Inspector. Hey, what goes on? Come along, you. This is an outrage. I protest. If Carl had had any sense, he'd have gone quietly, but he started to struggle, so the cop hung a smart one on his jaw, and the subsequent proceedings, as they say in all the best novels, interested Carl no more.

Permit me to offer my congratulations, Herr Leib. Oh, sure. All right. You can put that gun away now. You have recovered the necklace? The necklace? Oh, yes. It's right here in my pocket. May I have it, please? What? Certainly. The Herr Baron will be most grateful, I am sure. You must have been thinking we would never arrive, but we came as soon as we were receiving the telephone call. Telephone call? What telephone call? From the Countess, the lady to whom you gave the message.

Oh, yes. May I ask, Herr Leim, how it was you first came to suspect Colonel Clauser? Oh, just a hunch, I guess. Did you say Colonel Clauser? Yes. Were you not knowing, he was in the war a famous military officer. Clauser? In Bavaria, the Clausers for many generations are being much respected. The Colonel is... How do you call it?

Dark sheep of the family. Yes, I see. You've had dealings with him before? Yes, unfortunately. Tell me just one thing, Inspector. From your knowledge of him, would you say he's the sort of man who'll double-cross an associate? No, no. Impossible. He has many faults, it is true. Always his integrity is impeccable. He is, if I may put it so, a soul of honor. Ah, well, well, well.

Duplicitly, thy name is woman. I knew most of the answers now, but there were still a few I had to learn. After the inspector had gone, I went looking for Susie. I didn't have to search for long.

She was still in the bar, and her greeting to me was as casual as if nothing had happened at all. She seemed more than willing to talk, certainly. She admitted she'd lied to me about Carl planning a double-cross and about his background. Certainly she'd phoned the police and given them a message purporting to come from me. The further we went, the more baffled I must have looked. But finally she put her cool hand on mine and smiled at me and said, Poor Harry.

You find it all a little confusing, yes? Well, maybe I'm not the subtle type. But wouldn't it have been a lot simpler just to denounce both Carl and myself and made a thorough job of it? But I would never have dreamed to do that. But why? I had to get Carl out of the way, it's true. For a long time now he has been difficult, but with you it was different. How? I have no cause to wish you ill, besides I like you.

I like it very much. If anything were to happen to you... I still don't get it, you know. If Carl didn't plan to double-cross us, he'd have sold the necklace. And then your share would have been $30,000. Isn't that right? Right. But as it is, you get nothing. Huh? But that is where you are wrong. I get the necklace. Oh, look at this. To myself. How come? It is very simple. You see, when I dined last night with the Baron, he did me the honor to ask me to be his wife. Oh, my God.

Harry Lyme will be back in just a moment. And now, Harry Lyme. Appearances, like women, are notoriously deceitful. Now take Susie. That's right, you take her. I've got enough trouble of my own. And then there's Carl. Just because Carl said he was an officer and a gentleman...

And just because Carl looked like an officer and a gentleman, and even acted like one, I was sure he had to be a fake. Just goes to show you, nowadays you can't trust anybody. So long now.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

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.