THE WOMAN IN GREY: A Phantom Willed Into Existence, Exacting Her Manifested Malice!
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My dad worked in the mines of Kentucky, in the steel mill in Gary. And the parents of my partners worked in the mills too, or in the building trades, or driving trucks. So at Allen Law Group, we understand the struggle working people face when they lose their livelihood because of an accident. That's why we work so hard to help injured people win justice. Unlike the other firms, that's all we do. And because we know what you're facing, we won't quit until we win. I guess you can say it's in our DNA.

The Black Museum. Affiliated stations present Escape. Dinner Sanctum. I am the seal. Present Suspense. I am the whistler.

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

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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. In Greek mythology, the Titans were a race apart, one step below the gods. In our culture, a handful of poets, artists, and musicians belong in the same high place. And no one best establishes his right to be there than William Shakespeare, who spanned two centuries.

Baptized at Stratford-on-Avon on April 26, 1564. Died April 23, 1616. Like all great geniuses, a man before his time.

As the play I bring you now amply proves. My general Othello, I fear it is the Banchio. Terror! Upon my sword point! Where is my daughter? The Banchio, if you must fight my general, it will be across my bleeding body. Put up your bright swords, gentlemen. For the evening dew will rust them. If it were my cue to fight, I would have known at first before any of you. Is it my skin you challenge?

Or the man? Be assured, in any case, the moor stands ready to answer you.

Our mystery drama, The Green-Eyed Monster, was especially adapted from Shakespeare's Tragedy of Othello for the Mystery Theater by Ian Martin and stars Arnold Moss. It is sponsored in part by Buick Motor Division and Allied Van Lines. I'll be back shortly with Act One. ♪♪

Prejudice is as old as man himself. That's a part of this story. The other is one of the greatest tragic love poems ever penned. The fascinating dichotomy of a great man who was too trusting for his own good. And one of the most devious and devastating demons in all literature, whose name has become synonymous with total villainy.

The man known as Iago. Rodrigo, I was promised, promised, from high places among the doges of Venice that I would be second in command. As well you merit, Iago. And suddenly the great general, the Lord High Panjandrum, from his blackbird seat, pronounces to me, I have already chosen my right hand. Cassio? Cassio of Florentine. A fellow who never set a squadron in the field or has been battle-tested.

So I, whose sword has more than once saved Othello's life... ...as his mind, to be fair... ...am cast aside. I'm retained not as a commander, but as a servant. An ancient, if you will. Not you in the full flush of manhood. You mean an ensign? I am his moorships. Ancient. With no more position in the world's eye than a whipping boy. For me, I'd rather be his hangman. A dream...

There is no remedy. It is the curse of service. The ferment goes by who you know, not what you know. I only disclose to you why I have little cause to love the moor. I would need no cause to love a black upstart. I would think you had deeper cause or complaint than I. Because of Desdemona? Yes.

Does it not tear you apart, my friend, that your golden-haired love has been swallowed up by the Dark Moor, who is her master now far more than he is mine? What can I do? Here we are in Desdemona's father's house. He is a senator and helps rule Venice. Let's rouse him to your aid. Rouse him? But I... But, but, but... Does he know of Desdemona's love for the Moor? I'm sure he doesn't know of her infatuation. Then let us surprise him quickly.

Come, Langer, must I fight your battles for you? Let's rouse the night. Awake! Revenge, you're awake! Butthole! Look, look to your... What is the matter here? Don't you recognize me? Rodrigo! Well, now it all becomes more clear. I told you not to hump my door. My daughter is not for you. Who better would you promise her to?

Where is your daughter, senor? Search your house, if you will. You'll find your jewel has been stolen. And by black magic. My God, you'd better be mistaken. Some service here. Strike the tinder. Bring me a taper. What have we started? I know not yet. But keep my name hidden, or you shall be the worse. Though I hate Othello like the hell pains, yet of necessity for the present, I must hang out the flag in show of love.

And so, farewell, Rodrigo. Guard my name. As I would guard my life. As your life depends on it. My Captain Othello, in the trade of war I have slain men, but in my conscience this would not have been murder. I lack iniquity to lead me to that.

And yet as Brabantio spoke, I had it in my mind for love of you to sink my dagger in him. Far better you did not, my friend Iago. But he fated in such scurvy and provoking terms against your honor. He will be neither first nor last. My life can only be measured by what I've accomplished. God grant, it is enough. I would not care to try to put her to the challenge except for gentle Desdemona. It's only for her... Wait. Who comes through the garden so late?

Oh, I see who it is now. The servants of the Duke and my lieutenant. Good evening, Cassio and friends. What brings you here so late? The Duke greets you, General, and requires your presence haste post haste. What's the matter? The news from Cyprus.

Message upon urgent message from the fleet, and you are hotly called for. Not finding you at your lodgings, the Duke has sent no less than three parties to search you out. I'm glad you were the one to find me. I'll spend only a word or two in the house and straightway join you. Agent, what is he doing at this villa? Tonight he has boarded a tiny little craft that if she prove a lawful prize may just have made him forever. I don't understand.

Why, he has made Desdemona his. If they are married... Oh, here comes another troop to search for him. What is this story? General, I fear it is Brabantio. Be prepared, he comes here spoiling for trouble. Adulterers upon my sword points and these gentlemen of honor who support me, answer. Senior Brabantio, if you will fight my general, it must be across my bleeding body. Put up your bright swords, gentlemen, or the evening dew will rust them.

If it were my cue to fight, I would have known it first before any of you. As for you, good Senator Brabantio, your years command more respect than any weapon. Where will you have me go to answer your charges? I to prison until the law can take its course. If it please you, it might not please as much the Duke, to whose side and conference my Lieutenant Cassio has called me instantly.

We have no choice but to move against the Turkish fleet, hand with dispatch.

To this end, I am concerned that Brabantio and Othello are missing from our council since... My lord, the duke... Ah, well, here they are betimes. Forgive me, noble duke, that I come tardy. Valiant Othello, it matters not now that you are here. Our need was urgent to apprise you that we must employ you straight away against the general Ottoman enemy.

Forgive me, Signor Brabantio, for not greeting you. We have missed your counsel and your help tonight. Your Grace, it is not my place as counselor or business or even my country's danger that brought me from my bed tonight. I have such personal grief that engulfs all other thoughts and swallows all others away. Why? What's the matter? My daughter. Oh, my daughter. Dead? Yes.

To me. Abused, stolen from me, and corrupted by damned spells and medicines of black witchcraft. Who is the man? He stands beside me, charred with the brush of the devil and possessed by all his evil magic. This alien moor. Othello. If beasts deserve their names. A moment, signor. Calm yourselves. Othello. Othello.

What do you say to this? What can he say but it is so? A moment, good Brabantio. Let the man speak. Most potent, grave and reverent signor, that I've taken away this man's daughter is true. But for one reason only.

To make her my wife. Desdemona and I are married. There must have been some potion to confuse her. Did you indeed subdue and poison in any way this trusting girl's affections? I ask your grace to send for the lady herself. Let her speak before her father. And if you find her answer condemns me, then take away the office I hold with you. Nay, even more.

Take away my life. Fetched as devona hither. Iago. Yes, my general? You know where the lady is? Bring her here. At once, my general. And while we wait, I will briefly recite to you how I won the lady's love. It is your day in court. Once, her father, Brabantio here, professed to love me.

I see now I was a thing to show. Like a tiger caged or some ancient Roman gladiator... he would prod me on to tell the stories of my campaigns of flood and field... and hairbreadth escapes of vast caves and parched deserts... of captures and escapes, of bloody wounds and heady victories. At many times Desdemona was there to hear... coming and going at our household affairs...

And then as chance would have it, whilst we were alone, she begged me to tell her of all my pilgrimages and campaigns and all my agonies of youth. She heard so tenderly and talked of my life and called it passing strange and pitiful, wondrous pitiful. She loved me, you see, for all the dangers I had passed. And I loved her that she could pity them.

This is the only witchcraft I have passed. Now, gentlemen, we'll await my beloved Desdemona, that she may witness it. Well, here Brabantio is your daughter. If you would have her speak, it is your right. Dear father, my life, my education, my upbringing have all taught me to respect you, and I do. You are the lord of duty.

And up till now, I, your obedient daughter. But here's my husband by my side, whom I love dearly. And as much duty as my mother owed to you, preferring you before her father. So much I must owe my husband and my lord. By God, I'd rather adopt a child than beget it.

Come here, Moore. I now bestow on you with all my heart what, if you did not own already with all my heart, I'd fight to keep from you. For your sake, Desdemona, I am glad I have no other child. My Lord Duke, I'm finished. If you please, let's on now to state affairs. So be it. Othello, no one knows Cyprus better than you.

It is our consensus that to stop the Turk... you must leave immediately to handle the defense. Unhappily a poor time for you to leave your bride's bed. I am a soldier. I must obey commands...

I will leave immediately subject only to knowing that my wife is housed safely... and in such style as suits her breeding. If you please, I suggest her father's. No, I'll not have it so. Nor I. Nor I. If it please your grace, may I speak? Yes, yes, speak. How much I love the Moor must be apparent to all of you... since I am aware that in the act of marrying him and devoting my life to him... I turned my back on fortune and society...

My love, I trumpet to the world, for I see Othello's visage not in the color of his skin, but in the temper of his mind and the greatness of his soul. And so, I beg you, since he is now all my life, let me go with him. Whatever you and he privately determine, but haste is imperative. If it please your grace, my ancient Iago will assure the conveyance of my wife and...

whatsoever you consider necessary to be sent after me. Let it be so. And, Signor Brabantio, may I say... your son-in-law is far more fair than black. Look to her, Othello. If you have eyes, she has deceived her father. And may equally you. The ominous note has been sounded. And the stage is set.

It is time now for Shakespeare's most sinister and contemptible villain to move to the center of it and ruthlessly and relentlessly destroy a brave, graceful, trusting man whose straightforwardness is no match for the twisted mind of his evil genius, Iago.

I shall return shortly with Act Two. Othello has retired to spend one last hour with his beloved Desdemona before setting sail to organize the defense of Cyprus against the invading Turks.

Rodrigo, that foolish gentleman and pawn of Iago's, is left alone with him. And Iago first starts his diabolic plot to bring Othello tumbling down to the death of spirit and body. That is the price Iago's sick mind demands for Othello's imagined slights.

Come, Rodrigo, pull yourself together. What can I do now that Desdemona is lost to me? Can I count on your support if I dare to hope... I tell you again and again, I hate the moor. Go make money and we shall talk again tomorrow. I would not spend a second with Rodrigo except for the use I can make of him and his money. I need a better man for my design. Cassio.

In proper time, I'll abuse a fellow's ear with hints that Cassio is too familiar with his wife. The moor is of a free and open nature that thinks men honest if they seem to be. And though I hate the moor, he holds me in good esteem. The better to make my purpose work. Good, Cassio. Well met. Have you our precious cargo aboard? The Lady Desdemona is safe in my wife Amelia's charge. Throw out the gangplank.

Come, my lady, and my own mistress. We're safe to shore at last. Ah, the riches of the ship is coming ashore. All men of Cyprus offer her your knee.

Hail, Desdemona, welcome and most welcome. I thank you, valiant Cassio. But where is my lord? Not yet arrived from his victories, but all is well, and shortly he should join us. How did you part company? Returning from the Ottoman defeat, our ships were separated in a squall. Ah, good ancient Iago, you are welcome. And your good mistress. Forgive me if I welcome her thus. Tis only my breeding allows me this show of courtesy. Ha, ha, ha.

Sir, if Amelia gave you as much of her lips as she does me of her tongue, you might have regretted the impulse. You have little cause to complain. Oh, not I. You rise to play, but go to bed to work. Oh, if I find it work, then yours is the fault. Well said, Amelia. Never let him write my praise. I could do better, given the chance. How would you praise me, sir? You are both fair and wise. Fairness and wit are ones for use.

The other uses it. Little sir, suppose I were black and witty. If you were black and still had wit, you'd find a white

But to your blackness, Fitz. I suppose she was fair and foolish. No one who's fair could ever be foolish. Well said, it drew the ogle. That last spoke home. Closer to home, Cassio, than you might have dreamed, since it moved you to take her hand in yours. A little web, but enough to ensnare even as big a fly as you. Oh.

Ah, the moor. I know his trumpets. Yes, it is his ship. Take me to meet him so I can receive him in my arms. My conquering hero. My fair warrior. My darling. And my own. Oh, it gives me as much wonder as content to find you here. If I were to die now at this moment, I could not die happier. Heavens forbid. What?

Don't speak of death after you have so roundly defeated him in battle. Now our love can only increase and grow with every measure of the passing day. Amen to that. I cannot speak enough of my content and joy. I'll go, my good ancient. Go to the bay, dispark my coffers, see to it what must be done. Come, Desdemona, my sweet. Once more, well met at Cyprus.

That Cassio loves her, I am now sure. That she loves him? Why, where's the matter there? The girl is a magnet. She could hold a tunnel to her as a dear and loving husband. Now even I am drawn to her. Not from pure lust, but lurking in my mind is that this black ram has found his way into my fold. The very thought makes me steal myself the more to even myself with him. Wife for wife.

or failing that to put the more into a jealousy so strong that judgment cannot cure. Oh, good Iago, I have an unhappy brain for drinking. And in all the revelry tonight, I've...

Already had more than I should. Come, man, our gallants deserve it. Where are they? Just beyond the door. Invite them in while I open the wine. Against my better judgment. But the troops deserve relief after the break. One more cup and he will be as full of quarrel as my mistress' dog. Rodrigo is well beneath the influence. I see where I can raise some action that will come down on Cassio's head. Woo!

Fellow soldiers, on duty I am not drunk. Observe. Here is my right hand and this is my left. I can stand well enough and speak well enough. Of course, Cassio. So then you see, I am not drunk. I will stand the walk. Rodrigo. Yes.

I fear the trust Othello puts in him might endanger our defense. Rodrigo, someone should see to him. Leave it to me. I shall set him straight. If he does, we'll make him physician to the army. For surely anyone who could do that for Cassio as he presently reels and stumbles would practice spells with magic. Ah!

What, knave and addle-brain? You try to teach me my business? I'll cut you to ribbons! I'll cut you as a kill! Yeah!

Out of the way, Cassio, you drunk. Let me go, ancient, or I'll knock you over the battlement. My mutiny. Help. Lieutenant. Lieutenant, control yourself. No, no. Help me, sir. Help. Ring the watch bell. The watch bell. I'll swipe, lieutenant. You will be shamed forever. Stand back all. I'll hack him down who comes within length of my sword. What are these alarums? What is the matter here? Don't.

I'm bleeding. I'm hurt to the death. Hold for your life. Hold, Lieutenant. Have you forgotten your place in all sense of duty? Hold when the General speaks to you. The General? How we turn Turks. For Christian shame, stop this barbarous brawl, or he that makes one move will die upon his moose. Silence that bell. By the General's order, silence the bell.

Honest Tiago, I don't blame you for looking sick with disgust. Who began this? I'd rather have my tongue cut out than do offense to Michael Cascio. It was nothing, good captain, than a little too much wine before the watch. This good and honest gentleman, Rodrigo, I felt only that with war still abroad, the lieutenant should not try to stand watch. Blinded by the wine, Cascio attacked... Cascio...

From this day forth, you are no longer officer of mine. What's the matter, Othello? All's well now, my sweet. Come away to bed. Iago, see to the young man's hurts. Come away, Thestamona. It is a soldier's life to have his sweetest slumbers racked with strife. Oh, God, what have I done? Are you hurt, Lieutenant? I passed all surgery. I have lost the immortal part of myself.

My reputation, Iago. My reputation. You are too severe, Amaro. I drunk? You or any man may be drunk one time, but I tell you what you should do. Our general's wife is now the general.

Reach Desdemona and confess yourself openly to her. Ask for her help. You advise me well. I'm desperate of my fortunes any other way. This way will shape them to the proper end. My thanks. And good night, honest Iago. Who is there then to say I play the villain? When my advice is free and honest, when devils plan their blackest sins, they first make heaven a show, as I do now.

And while this honest fool begs Desdemona to repair his fortunes, I will drop my slow pestilence in her husband's ear. But Cassio lusts only after her body. So I will turn her virtue into pitch that shall in the end tar all as black as the damned moor himself.

If I have any grace or power to move you, sweet Othello, forgive your Lieutenant Cassio. If he does not love you truly, I have no judgment of an honest man. Desdemona, sweet, some other time. You know I can deny you nothing. Farewell, my Desdemona. I will come to you soon. And I will wait, your obedient slave.

Damn how I love her. And when I love her not, then hell can eat me up. Did Michael Cassio always know of your love for my lady? Of course. He carried messages between us very often. Indeed. Indeed? Well, what do you say in that? Is he not honest? My lord, for all I know. Well, what do you think?

My general? My God, he echoes me as if there was some monster in his thought. What is it? No, good my lord, forgive me. Take no notice. Good name in man or woman is their most precious jewel. Who steals my purse steals trash. But who robs me of my good name enriches not himself and makes me poor indeed. By heaven, I'll know what you are thinking. Othello, beware. Beware of jealousy. Beware of jealousy.

It is the green-eyed monster which mocks the meat it feeds on. Guard your heart and pray like me that all our ancestors defend us them from jealousy. Me? Jealous? My wife is fair, loves company, sings, plays and dances, and where her strongest virtue lies rests in that she has eyes and still chose me.

Oh, no, Iago. I would have to see before I doubt. And if I doubt, prove it. And that will never be. A fellow jealous? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

But the seed has been planted, and with Iago to nurture its growth, will grow and grow and grow. Inevitably, Othello hears a still small echo of her father's words, which will grow and grow to a shout. She has deceived her father, and may equally you.

I shall return shortly with Act Three. No man as graceful and gentle and as kind as Othello could have been brought down by the lies and distortions of even so Machiavellian a villain as Iago, except for one thing. Othello had an Achilles heel, the color of his skin.

So, like Achilles, he was vulnerable. And Iago's poisoned arrows at last had found the mark. From now on, it was a matter of carefully fanning the fever to white heat. And the means to accomplish that was a handkerchief. My dearest Othello, your guests await. Are you so fast to be rid of me, then? Not I.

Why do you speak so faintly? Are you not well? I have a pain upon my forehead, here and here. What pain is that? I fear to think what might be growing there. It is only the strain of battle and constant watching. Come, let me bind it hard with this and it will soon be gone. No, no. Your handkerchief is too little. Let it alone...

Come, you shall sit at dinner with me. Oh, my lord, I do not look as I should. So long as you are where I can keep an eye on you, it does not matter. I had not planned... I hope you had no other plans. Now come at my command and say no more. The lady, you dropped your handkerchief...

No matter. I shall put it by. Amelia! Iago! What are you doing here? You left me all alone. I have my duties to perform. And do not chide me, for I have a thing for you. What? Here in my lord's bedroom? Oh, be quiet.

It's something you bade me steal for you. A handkerchief. What handkerchief? What handkerchief, indeed. The one that was her first remembrance from the moor. Oh, why, you want it? Have you stolen it from her at last? Oh, my. No, not even for my husband's favors would I steal. Then how came you buy it? She let it drop through negligence, and I, being here by chance, picked it up. Here. The very one. Why do you want it so?

Give it back to me. It is so much your favorite of Desdemona, she'll run mad to find it lost. Don't let her know you found it or I have it. Your promise? It's such a little thing. You have it. My lips are sealed. I'll drop this handkerchief in Cassio's quarters and make sure he finds it. Trifles are monsters to the jealous.

Already my poison has changed the more, but now with what seems to be proof, not all the poppy or mandragora or drowsy spirits of the world shall ever win him back the sweet sleep of yesterday. You're early abroad, my general. Diago, what are you doing here on the walls? Just coming off my watch. I wish I'd known. I would have chosen to walk later. My lord is angry with me. Two days now you have kept me from your side. For good reason.

You were the one who set me on the rack. I tell you, it's better to be much abused than just to know a little. What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust? I saw it not, knew it not. It didn't harm me. When I knew nothing of Cassio's kisses on her lips, I slept well. But now, forever, farewell, tranquil mind. Farewell, content.

Farewell, the plumed troop, the royal banners and all quality that made ambition a virtue. Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war. Farewell. Othello's occupation's gone.

Is it possible... Villain! Give a living reason she's disloyal! If you would but let me speak! Why, would you never have? And so do I. Last night, before the watch, I was alone with Cassio in the guardroom where he was asleep. He is that kind of man who mutters in his sleep, and I... Would that I had not heard, but...

I could hear his words. What words? What words? Well, such as... Sweet Desdemona, let us be wary and let us hide our loves. And... Oh, cursed fate that gave you to the moor. Oh, monstrous, I will tear her all to pieces. No, no. Be wise. These are only words. She may be honest still. And yet...

Yet what? Out with it! I may be mistaken, but have I not seen in your lady's hand a handkerchief of cambric embroidered about with strawberries? He gave her such a one? Why do you ask? I speak, remember, at your command. I saw such a handkerchief today. Where?

I'm sure it was your wife's. Where? In the guardhouse. Cassio used it to wipe his beard. Oh, blood. Iago, blood. Patience. Your mind may change. Never. Let the Pontic see whose icy current, never ebbing, drives relentless through the Hellespont. Even so, my bloody thoughts will ne'er look back. Kneel with me now that I may take oath to those words.

Within three days, I will hear you say that Cassio is not alive. No!

Where could I have lost that handkerchief, Amelia? I do not know, madam. I'd soon have lost my purse. I'm lucky that my noble moor is true of mind and gently understanding. What? Is he not like every man? And how is every man? Suspicious, jealous. Jealous? A fellow. I think the son where he was born dried up all ugly thoughts. Here comes my lord.

For once I have him all alone. I will not leave him now till he mends his silly quarrel with poor Cassio. I will be in the antechamber. How are you, dear Stavona? I am well, my good lord. Dear heart, I have made bold to send for Cassio to come and speak to him. Have you a cold? Oh, just something I choked upon. Lend me your handkerchief. Here, sweet. Oh, no, no, no, not that one. The one I gave you. I don't have it here.

Well, that is a fault. To lose it or give it away would be a sin that could mean ruin. Oh, no, please don't say that. There's magic in the web of it. Woven by a sibble from silk, from hallowed worms, dyed in the shriveled remains of maiden's hearts. Then would to God I had never seen it. Why? Is it lost? It is not lost, but even supposing that it were. Is it gone? I've told you. Then fetch it.

Let me see it. Come. This is a trick to put me from my suit to have you welcome Cassio. Forget him. Fetch me the handkerchief. You'll never meet a more sufficient man. The handkerchief. Talk first of Cassio. The handkerchief. A man who founded all his fortunes on yours. Truly, for once, you are to blame. Death and blood let me away from you before I choke on my own bile. And this is the man who knows no jealousy? I never saw him thus before. I only hope that Cassio can tell me what's amiss. Ah!

Now, here be, Rodrigo. If I have taken your money, it is only for your sake. The Duke has sent advices that Cassio will be governor of Cyprus. If this be so, what chance have you to win her favors? But Desdemona is still wed to Othello. Othello's influence in Venice is on the wane. I promise you he will not stand before you long. Here comes Cassio. Draw your dagger and off with you in the dark to strike the blow which wins you all. If you but dare...

Die, you desperate die! Get off! Then here is one in return! Oh, God! To the rescue! Damned foolish bumbler! I can only hope that Othello proves more deadly at the death. You say you have seen nothing. My Lord, Othello, no. Cassio and she together? Why, yes, but... It is enough. I want to hear no more.

She is asleep. Yes, General. Then leave us now. But I... Leave us! It is the cause. Let me not name it to you, Chase Tars. It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood or scar that skin of hers that to my eyes is white as snow. Yet she must die or she'll betray more men. Put out the lights. And then...

Put out the light. If I quench it, how can it be restored? If I repent? Othello? Yes? Then come to bed, my lord. Have you prayed tonight? Yes. If you think of any crime against heaven, solicit to it now. I would not kill your soul unprepared. What is this talk of killing? That handkerchief which I so loved and gave you.

You gave to Cassio. No. You're on your deathbed. Beware of perjury. My lord, have mercy on me. I wish with all my soul, Desdemona, you might have had on me. Then banish me, but don't kill me. Don't strump it down. It is too late. Kill me tomorrow. Let me live tonight. It is too late. What's wrong within? Still as the grave...

Shall I let her in? Oh, my wife! My wife! I have no wife! Now, should the sun and moon at once go into eclipse, so softly draw the curtains, and it's done.

Come in, Amelia. Excuse me, my lord, but foul murder has been done. How's that? Cassio has killed a young Venetian gentleman called Rodrigo. And Cassio killed? No, not he. Not Cassio killed? The murder's out of tune and sweet revenge grows harsh. Oh, falsely murdered. Oh, that is my mistress.

Guiltless death, I die. Who has done this? Nobody. I myself commend me to my sweet Lord. Farewell. She is a liar gone to hell. I killed her.

She was false as water. And you as rash as fire, to say so. He proved it. With a handkerchief of mine she gave to Cassio. Oh, God, you fool. And Iago has schemed to destroy us all. When you know the truth, I will see you all harmed for the death of my sweet mistress. Help! Help! Summon the guard! The moor has killed my mistress! How came you, Cassio, by the handkerchief? I found it in my chamber room.

And Iago on the rack has now confessed he dropped it there, given to him by his wife. What does Iago face? As governor, and with such overwhelming proof as I have to hand, he will not have a pretty death. Enough. Then for myself, in utter despond, let me say what I wish to say, most briefly. If in the tablets of the future you should set me down, forget my accomplishments in the field, and remember me only as a man who loved not wisely...

but too well. And say besides... that in Aleppo once... where a turbaned Turk beat a Venetian... and reduced the state... I took him by the throat... and struck him... That's... at least... once more... standing over you... as you lie still... Desdemona...

I beg you remember I kissed you ere I killed you. No way but this. Killing myself to die upon a kiss. The inevitable climax at last reached. This is tragedy at its finest. Inevitable. Inexorable. Inexorable.

And somehow, in the honesty of all but the central villain, ennobling. I'll be back shortly. It would be unfair, of course, to leave our tragedy just as it resolved itself. For only one reason. That sinister, despicable, unforgivable Iago. Iago.

I'm glad to report that for those of you who might not know in advance, his punishment well fitted the crime. Since Casio was governor, and in a sense, dictator of Cyprus, it was left to him to dispose of Iago when all the facts came out. How kind would you have been? Our cast included Arnold Moss, Marion Seldes, Joan Arliss, Court Benson, Ralph Bell, and Ian Martin.

The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by True Value Hardware Stores. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams. ♪♪

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season

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The shadow knows. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

The Shadow, mysterious character who aids the forces of law and order, is in reality Lamont Cranston, wealthy young man about town. The Shadow uses his hypnotic power to cloud men's minds so that they cannot see him. Cranston's friend and companion, the lovely Margot Lane, is the only person who knows to whom the unseen voice of the Shadow belongs.

Today's story, The Flight of the Vulture. All right, grab that roof over there. All right, come on, you guys. Get those old knights into the boat and make it snappy. We're working as fast as we can, boy. Hey, you and that third stockman. You left headlamps out. Okay, all right. Come on, come on, lock up those vans. We'll be here all night. All right.

Okay, Cal State. All set. The old nags in the barn, the thoroughbreds in the stock van. Did you count them careful? Sure did. One old nag in the barn for every thoroughbred horse we took out. Ten horses in, ten horses out. All right, all right. All right, you men driving those stock vans, you've got your orders, so get going. Okay, boss. Here we go. All right.

Come on, come on. Push him along. Roll him fast. What is it? Harkin. Yeah, boy. All those old mags tied up in their stalls? Yeah. Not a chance of any of them getting out. They're tied fast. All right, let's go in the barn. Right. Up.

Open it up. And I guess everything's all set. Odds is they're quiet in that dog. All right, put them back to that straw in the corner. Right. This place ought to go up like a piece of paper.

There she goes, Cal State. All right, let's get out of here. Bolt that door. They're beginning to yell good now. I guess they know what's up. All right, what's the difference? They're all old or sick. Nags, they die soon anyway, wouldn't they? I've seen a lot of things in my time. But I don't want to be around when the fire hits them nags. Let's scram, Cal State. All right. I'm hungry anyway. Let's go eat. Let's go.

You think this Mr. Cal State's gonna show up? He said he would, Clara. Honest, Mark, I most wish he wouldn't show up at all. I know how you feel, Clara. I hate to part with old Jim myself. Why, that old horse practically raised our Bobby. You know, I'm mindful of the time he waited out in the river when Bobby was drowning.

That old horse acted like a human. He pulled alongside so the lad could climb on his back. I wish we could keep old Jim, Clara, but what can we do? If we don't pay no taxes, we won't have no home. All I know is we're in want. I know. The Lord's providing. It ain't for us to wonder why.

Blessed be the Lord. Amen. Hold it, Margo. Rain up. Oh, poor boy. What is it, Amar? Why are we stopping? I just wanted you to feast your eyes on this countryside. Oh, it is lovely, isn't it? Isn't it? Doesn't that hill over there remind you of a scene in one of those old western movies you saw when you were a kid? Huh.

What the head does, it's that. All it needs is a silhouette of William S. Hart on horseback. Say, Margo...

Did you ever know that I almost became a cowboy once? Oh, Lamont, you're kidding. No, that's a fact. Oh, I don't believe this. I can never picture calling you Hoot Cranston. I spent a year and a half on a ranch when I was a youngster. Really? Here, I'll prove it to you. Just drop your handkerchief on the ground. Oh, now, wait a minute. Those ranch days are over. Just drop your handkerchief. Okay, Hoot, but take it easy. Now, back ten paces. Come on, boy. Back. Back. Whoa. All right, Margo. Here I come.

Well, anyway, you've got the handkerchief. Yes, but who's going to get my horse? Here it comes back again. Listen, from now on, Hoot, I'd advise you to do all your handkerchief picking up in department stores. I think you're right, Margo. Hi, Mr. Cranston, Miss Lane.

Well, hello, John. Well, Bobby Heflin, you're getting to be quite a little man. Why, you've grown a lot since the last time we visited the Wentworth. Gee, Miss Lane, you look pretty in that riding suit. Oh, Bobby, bless you, and thanks. Mr. Cranston thinks so, too. Tell you, Lamont, there's nothing wrong with that young man's poise. Oh, quite the urban young gentleman. All right.

I'll have to tear a leaf from his book. Not a bad idea. How are your mother and father, Bobby? Mother's fine, but Dad's ailing with rheumatism. Oh, that's too bad. Well, how about your old horse, Jim? I hope he's all right. There he is. See? Over by the barn. Oh, yes. Suppose he remembers us, Bobby. Who, Jim? Say, he never forgets a friend...

Call him. Hey, Jim. Look at his ears go up. He heard you. Come on, Jim. Come on, sir. Come on. Oh, he is coming. He remembers you all right, Mr. Cranston. Come on, old fella. Come on. Oh, he's a wonderful old horse, isn't he? Wonderful. Of course he is. Well, Jim, old boy, how are you? See, Mr. Cranston, he's talking to you. Well, you're a good old horse.

You're one of the finest jumpers I've ever seen. Weren't you, Jim, huh? Not your head, that's it. Can you still laugh, Bobby? Oh, sure. Want to see? Hey, Jim, give Miss Lane a smile. He's not smiling, he's laughing at me. Well, Bobby, we must be going along. Thanks for a very interesting little exhibition. You're welcome. Goodbye, Miss Lane. Goodbye, Mr. Cranston. Bye, Bobby. So long, Jim. Bye, Bobby. Bye.

Come on, Jim. Let's go and get you some water. Gee, Jim. Someday I'm going to get a nice riding suit like Mr. Cranston had. Then you and me will ride way over to Martinsville. Hey, Bobby.

Come here, son. Oh, Pa. Miss Lane and Mr. Cranston were just here. They're visiting the Wentworths. That so? We just missed them. Oh, did I? That's too bad. Hey, Hector. You go to the house, son. Your ma wants you. Can I take Jim to water first, Pa? No, no, son. You leave Jim here. This...

gentleman wants to look him over. Look him over? What for? Are you a veterinary, mister? No, kid, I... Bobby, go to the house. I'll tell you all about it later. All right, Pa. Don't talk in front of the boy, Mr. Calcide. Old Jim's the apple of his eye. I guess the old horse loves a boy just about as much. Yeah, kids are funny. They can get attached to any old miserable nag. Yeah.

Well, I told you old Jim didn't amount to much as you figure horse flesh. Certainly a bag of bones, all right. But he means a lot to folks hereabouts. Well, if anyone's willing to pay more than $20 for him, they'll better my price. $20? Is that what you're offering me? Well, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you $35. Now, before you answer me, look at my stock van out there on the road. See them old nags? Eh? Well, I bought the push of them for what I'm offering you for this one. All right.

All right, the horse is yours. Treat him well. He's been a good old fellow. Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about that, mister. I know how to treat horses. Yep. Poor old Jim. Pa! Oh, Pa! Bobby, go back to the house, son. Go back. That man, he's taking old Jim away. Where's he taking him, Pa? Where's he? Look, look, son, you...

You love your ma and pa, don't you? Yes, pa. And old Jim, too. I love him. Yes, I know you do. We all do. But, son, you know me or your ma wouldn't do anything out and out wrong, don't you? Yes, pa. Well, you'd believe me if I tell you we were in danger of losing the farm. Yes, pa. I...

You know, Jim never refused to do anything to help us. No, never, but Pa... Listen to me now, son. All right, Pa. That's what Jim's doing now. He's helping us, same as always. Helping his keeper farm. And you got to help too, son. But being a little man now, you... But Pa, how's Jim helping us by going away with that man? Well, son, it's...

It's like this, see. We need money, need it bad. Taxes to pay. Pa, Pa, you ain't sold, Jim. Answer me, Pa. Yes, son, we had to. Oh, no, no. Oh, don't, Pa. Get him back. Easy now, son. Pa, Jim's our friend. Do people sell a friend? No, no, but... Would you sell me, Pa? Oh, Lord bless you, no, son, of course not. You sold Jim? Son, I'm trying to make you understand.

There's a lot of things people have to do against their will. This is one of those things.

Don't you understand that? No, Pa. Well, you will someday. Someday you'll understand. Now, come on, son. Let's go to your ma. Pa, look. That man. He's making Jim get in with those other boys. Don't look over there, son. Come to the house now. He's whipping Jim. Pa, stop him. Don't let him do that. Come on, son. Come on. No. No, make him stop.

I can't let Jim go. Jim! Jim! Come back, son. You can't do that. Come back, son. Jim! I can't come back, Pa. I can't come back, Pa.

Can't come back. Gotta save Jim. Bobby, here, son. Take this for your ma. Come on, like the doctor said you ought to. Do... Do people... Sell a friend's pa? Oh... Jim. Jim! Your pa's gone to get Jim back, son. Now won't you take this? So she'll get a little bit of sleep. Jim. Jim. Jim.

I'll never come back. Never. Oh, Lord have mercy. Ain't nothing to be done for our little tight. Nothing. Oh, don't, Mrs. Huffman. Don't give way. Here. Let me have that medicine. He closed an eye in two days. Margo? Yes, Lamont? Take the spoon. All right. Bobby. Bobby, now listen to me. This is Mr. Cranston. Mr. Cranston? Yes. Yes.

Mr. Cranston. Mr. Cranston. I... I... I saw you coming over here. Riding old Jim. Bobby, will you drink this for me? It'll put you to sleep. And when you wake up, we'll talk about Jim. Will... Will you bring him back? Yes, Bobby, I will. Oh, Mr. Cranston. Mr. Cranston.

If you do, I'll pray for you. Oh, Jim. Oh, Bobby. Thank you, Bobby. Now, will you take the medicine? Here we are. That's it. Take a good long drink, son. And just a little more. Yeah, that's fine. Now, lie back and sleep. Sleep? Wake up.

Talk... Talk about Jim. Talk about... Oh, Jim. Bobby. Son.

Oh, you've done it. Praise be the Lord. You've done it. He's going off to sleep. Oh, thank heaven. He certainly needs it badly. Well, there's only one thing to do. Old Jim will have to be brought back. Back? What do we give the farm if need be to get him? Poor Mark's walked his shoes bare trying to find that Mr. Calphade. Nobody knows him hereabouts. You say nobody knows this man Calphade? None that we can find.

He'd just come round and paid us $35 for Jim, and he loaded him in a van with three other old horses and went on his way. And that's all we know about him. For all of us, he may be on the other side of the country. $35? That's right. Yeah.

Dealer in old horses. Strange. Listen, there's Mark coming up the porch now. Good. Good. I do hope he has some word. Oh. Oh, Mr. Cranston.

Miss Lane. Hello, Mark. Mark. Come to see the little kite, did you? Yes, Mark. That's mighty nice of you. How is he, Clara? Mark, he's asleep. Oh, good, good. Oh, ain't no use in me asking. I can see it in your eyes. You didn't find him. No, Clara, I didn't. Oh, Mark.

Mark, what are we going to do? Easy, Clara. Girl, ain't no use you putting yourself down, too. No trace at all, eh, Mark? Traces, yeah, but that's all. I ran into a couple of farmers that sold them horses, but he'd gone. Old horses? Some old, some sick or blind. Margo, I promised that boy I'd bring old Jim back.

Well, maybe I can't, but I'm going to give an idea. I have a good fling. Oh, good for you, Lamont. Good night, Mrs. Heflin. If I stir anything up, Mark, I'll get in touch with you right away. In the meantime, don't lose hope. Thank you, Mr. Cratchit. Oh, that's wonderful. Good night. Good night. Well, Lamont, let's see now. You've got the whole state and a couple of million people. And out of all that, you've got to find one Mr. Calstead, trader in old horses.

How do you think you're going to bring about such a momentous social event? Well, suppose we start by calling on some farmers. Or rather, let me correct myself...

Suppose the shadow starts by calling on some farmers. ♪♪ Tell Sage to say he'd never heard of him, never. ♪♪ Night before last, he was here. Bought an old sorrel horse. ♪♪ Long about noon today he came, but I had nothing to do. ♪♪

Oh, I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee. Oh, I come from Alabama for my true love's courtesy. Oh. Uh-oh. Sorry to interrupt your song, but I'm pressed for time. Pull up. Whoa there, mustard plaster. Whoa. Whoa there. Yeah, that's better.

Now we can talk. Who had that address in Rupert?

Wherever you is, come on out and wonder that hay. That ain't no place for talking with a gentleman. I'm not hiding in your load of hay, Rufus. I'm sitting right beside you. Yeah, you see, you... Oh, now, chicken fitters, I done ate. What kind of game are you all playing? I don't see nobody beside me. You can't see me, Rufus. I have the power to cloud men's minds and make myself invisible. Oh, Lord, help me. You're not afraid, are you, Rufus? Afraid? Mister, I'm scared stiff.

I mean no harm. I simply want to ask you a few questions. Well, you ain't the man from down below, is you? Because if you is, I want to tell you this, Douglas. No, no, Rufus. I'm not the man from down below.

I'm the shadow. Yes? I want to ask you if you know a man by the name of Calcade. Boss, I swear I never met the gentleman my whole life. He's a horse trader, and he goes about... A horse trader? Yes. Horse trader, you say? Well, there's a gentleman who was buying a horse from my boss tonight. Yes? What kind of horse? Well, sir, he ain't no county... An old horse? No, sir. Yes, sir. Rufus, don't mention a word of this to a soul.

I want to follow that man when he leaves your boss's farm. Remember now, not a word. Mr. Shadow, after this, I don't reckon I'll be able to open my mouth for at least four days. Faster, Muggle, faster. I've got to write down the floor now. It's no use, Muggle.

Car ahead has given us a slip. Well, are you sure it was Cal State? Positive. He had two horses in the van. Bought one from Rufus's boss. It was Cal State, all right. We've lost him. Well, he couldn't outride us with that van. He must have turned in one of those side roads back there. Maybe. Turn back, Margo. We'll scour the countryside. We've got to get a line on Cal State. Cal State.

Okay, Hockey, the stock van's with the thoroughbreds got away safe. Now we gotta work fast. Pile up that hay near the end store. Right, boss. Hey, you think that car on the road was tailing us, Cal State? I don't know, but I ain't taking any chances. Gotta burn up those old nags fast. Well, there won't be anything left to prove anything when we get through here. Hey, but look, Cal State. We've been pretty lucky so far with all the stables we've been burning. But how much longer are we gonna get away with it? Yeah, let me worry about that.

Ah, that's that nag old Jim we've had so much trouble with. Ah, the one that belonged to the kid? Yeah, that's the one. Hey, how's that, Cal State? I got all the hay piled up. Ah, that's swell. Now drop a match on it. Ah, gee, this is the part that I don't like, boss. Shut up and do what I tell you.

Well, that'll take care of it, all right. Now, let's get out and shut the nags in. Yeah, I'm glad to get out. Come on, stupid. Make it snappy. I'm hurrying. I'm hurrying. Gee, I don't like this business. Keep quiet. All right, that's got it. Let's get in the car and scram. Come on.

Come on out, Margo. They're gone. Thank heaven. Phew. Brammer's had my face all scratched. That was a strange performance, wasn't it? I don't understand it, Lamont. They took ten thoroughbred horses out of that barn and then put ten old ones into it. Yes.

I wish we could have been near enough to hear what those two were talking about. Lamont, look. What? Margo, it's smoke. The barn's on fire. The horses, they'll be burned up. Oh, Lamont, we've got to get them out. Hurry, Margo, hurry. Well, what are you going to do? Stand back, Margo. I'm going to try and run those horses out. Well, I'm going in with you. No, Margo, you can't do that. Well, you can't handle all those horses alone, Lamont. All right. Release those in the center store. Fire hasn't reached there yet. They're running for the door.

Well, how are you going to get the others to pass the plane? I'll blindfold them with my coat. Wake that bugger! Be careful, Lamar! Come on!

Come on, boy. Good boy, come on. Margo! Yes, Lamont? Where are you? I'm out here, I'm all right. Have we got them all? I don't think so. They're so blinded, they're like antsy to come. Yeah.

Let's see now. There were ten. Margot. What is it, Lamont? Jim. Where's Jim? Oh, Lamont. He's not out here. Jim! Jim! He's still inside, Margot. I've got to get him. Oh, you can't go in there now, Lamont. The side wall's ready to come down. I've got to, Margot. I've got to get Jim. Lamont. Lamont, don't go in there, please. Jim! Jim! There. Get him, old boy. Jim!

Come on, Jim. Come on, boy. Come on. The world is coming down.

What kind of an insurance outfit is this? How long do I have to wait, Macy? Sit down, Mr. Carl Sade, and calm yourself now. Check's being drawn. That's to be okayed by several officials first. Oh, uh, by the way, Mr. Carl Sade, this is the fifth time in two months that you've lost a stable full of horses. Rather unusual, isn't it? Isn't it enough that I lost my fine-brotted stock without being tied up in red tape?

And answering your silly questions? Are you laughing at me? I didn't laugh. I laughed, Calcide. Hey, what is this? Who's doing the talking? It is I, Calcide. The Shadow. The Shadow? Why, this is screwy. I hear the guy and I don't see him. No, Calcide, you can't see me. And that's too bad. You can't see how sorry I am for your pathetic plight. The loss of your fine-blooded stock.

The Stark, yeah. In fact, you don't realize how completely you've lost them. This time you've failed, Calcade. What are you... Your ten thoroughbreds are in the hands of the police. And so are the rest of your gang. What is this, a gag? Fire chief told me the horses were all burned up. Did you see the charred remains when you returned to the barn after the fire? No. No.

Chief said they'd already been removed. That's right. He acted in accordance with instructions from the Shadow. That's a lie. You're trying to trick me. The ten old horses you substituted for the insured stock are alive and well. You've been doing this vicious thing again and again all over the country. But at last, the police have enough evidence to send you away for the rest of your life. You can't prove nothing. I have his signed claim, Shadow. Good. Open that door, Mr. Macy.

The police are waiting for you outside, Calcide. Well, package is all set, Margo. How about the note? Here we are, Lamont. All right, read it to me, will you, Margo? Mm-hmm. Dear Bobby...

Enclosed is your riding habit, made just exactly like Mr. Cranston's. Old Jim's blanket should reach you before you get there. We are both looking forward to our ride over to Martinsville with you and Jim. Love. Good. I'll put it right on top. All right. There we are.

Well, can you think of anything else we might do for the boy, Margo? Well, you could teach him your handkerchief trick. Oh no! Hoot Cranston does not ride again. They've been here for thousands of years, making their presence known in the shadows. They might be seen by a lonely motorist on a deserted road late at night.

or by a frightened and confused husband in the bedroom he's sharing with his wife. Perhaps the most disconcerting part of this phenomenon boils down to this question: has the government been aware of their presence all along and is covertly working with them towards some secret end?

In the audiobook, Runs of Disclosure, what once was fringe is now reality. While listening, you'll meet regular people just like you who have encountered something beyond their ability to explain. You'll also hear from people of great faith and deep religious belief who continue to have these strange and deeply unsettling encounters. Author L.A. Marzulli explores these ongoing incidents to discover the answers to these questions.

Who are they? What do they want? And why are they here? Can you handle the truth? Listen to this audiobook, if you dare. Rungs of Disclosure Following the Trail of Extraterrestrials and the End Times by L.A. Marzulli Narrated by Darren Marlar Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com

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

Monsters, myths, mysteries, mirth, and more every Monday with Mind of 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. Hold the kaleidoscope to your eye. Peer inside. One twist changes everything. A woman awakens in a grotesque, human-sized arcade game.

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

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

is Nelson Armstead. Sleep no more. Sleep no more. Turn down the lights. Sink back in your chair and don't look into the shadows. In the shadows, there may be moving things. Tonight, it may be you will sleep no more. Good evening. This is Ben Grauer introducing tonight's tale of terror told by Nelson Armstead on the National Broadcasting Company's presentation of Sleep No More.

The story of terror can be as simple as a sheeted ghost rattling chain. It can be a complex and hidden world of horror, lurking in such unholy dimensions as only the dead and the moonstruck can glimpse. Or it can be those terrible, fathomless shadows, which lie buried deep in the primitive mind of civilized man. And for this evening, well, Nelson Armstead, tell us about this evening's story. Thank you, Ben.

Some time ago, a listener wrote, asking me to do a particular story, which I told a number of years ago. Frankly, I was surprised she could remember so well. But the story is like that. I have never been able to forget it myself. And I'd like to tell it to you again tonight as our first offering. This is a story of a man who thought he could hate people with impunity. Written by Walker G. Everett, it's entitled, The Woman in Gray. ♪♪

Bill was at a dinner party at the Carters when the subject first came up, a dinner to which he would never have gone if he could have thought of a single plausible excuse. Sarah Carter had a girl visiting her from the East, her school roommate or something, Bill thought vaguely. Bill was her dinner partner. They were talking about some people she didn't like, and she said...

Yes, and they told it all over town that I was the girl who was caught in the raid and that I had a red wig on so nobody would know me. Oh, how I wish I could get even with them, the most hateful people. Now, haven't you any suggestions? Bill looked pensive. Manny Martini, he said, set up a pleasant buzzing in his brain and everything in life seemed very easy. And he said, you might tell everybody that they have a repulsive daughter hidden away that nobody ever sees and that's why they don't like young men calling at the house.

No, that's too easy. They have three daughters, all repulsive, only not hidden away. That is, yet. In that case, I don't know. Well, why don't you just leave it to me? What do you mean? Do you make little wax images and stick pins in them? There, she'd stolen a march on him. Because that was just what he'd been going to say. So he took a piece of celery, applied his mental spurs to himself, and came out in an inspiration. Oh, uh...

Haven't I ever told you about the lady in gray? No. Who is she? Just a lady in gray. Well, where is she? Right here beside me now. Oh, you can't see her. I'm the only one who can see her, but she's right here by me all the time. I've known her for years. Goodness gracious. Aren't you scared? Doesn't she haunt you? Oh, no. She likes me. That's why she stays here. Isn't it, lady? He turned and nodded to the imaginary figure beside him.

Well, of course, she's very modest and goes out of the room when I'm undressed, but all the rest of the time, she's here. Even her face is gray. Well, doesn't she do anything at all? Certainly. She gets after people I don't like. How terrible. Well, uh, sick her on the quarries in Hartford, Connecticut, then, and tell her to do her worst. I will. Right now.

Do you hear that, Lady in Gray? Hartford, Connecticut. Quarry's the name. The third house from the corner on the left. I don't want any mistake. Oh, she never makes a mistake, said Bill. He was rather pleased with his little joke as he finished the last of his martini.

That was the last Bill thought about it for two weeks... until Sarah Carter plowed across the room at a cocktail party and said... Now, what's this all about the lady in gray? Well, I don't know, said Bill. What do you mean? I had a letter from Elsa. She said to tell you your lady in gray did the work a little too well... and that you'd better be careful. What else did she say? Something about a family named Corey. They had an automobile accident and all died. Five, I think. What a coincidence...

And what a story! He lost no time in telling it around, of course. It was a good story, with enough of pleasant actual horror in it, but not too much. The quarry's remaining mythical, so that it was worth a chill and a laugh anyplace.

Two weeks later, he was at a dinner at Corrine Gorman's house, a fine old-fashioned dinner with old-fashioned cocktails before and new-fashioned highballs after and good old-fashioned screaming all the way through. Bill sat by Corrine.

She turned to him and pointed to two empty seats. You know, I could kill those people, she said. They're always hours late anyway, and finally they phoned from Winnetka that they'd broken down. Now, why don't you sick your lady in gray on them for me? Well, I would, but I don't hate them. I don't want them to turn over like the Quarries. How well do you know them? Not very well. Well, I can tell you some things. They've named their children Peggy Jean and Michael Peter...

They have some name for their car and they go to the circus every year and laugh and laugh and eat Cracker Jack and peanuts. That's the kind of people they are. Oh, well, I'd just as soon hate them for myself. Sure, I'll send the gray lady after them. Only they'd better look out. That was the last they thought about it until the dinner was nearly over and Corrine was called to the telephone and she came back white. It was they, she whispered. Terrible accident. A taxi hit them. Don't tell anybody for a minute.

Were they badly hurt? Yes. He wondered suddenly if he ought to say anything about the absurd conversation regarding the lady in gray. He decided not. Two coincidences were just a little too much. Yet he knew there was nothing in it. Hadn't he made her up out of a clear sky just to amuse the guest of Sarah Carter? But just the same, he felt it would be a little smart-alecky to allude to it. However, Corrine soon saved him the trouble, and she said, Never mention that gray woman again. Never, never. Oh, Corrine.

Oh, that didn't have anything to do with it. You know that. Yes, but it's a little too strange, that's all. As if Santa Claus should suddenly come down the chimney. Or you find a baby in a cabbage. I think that would be a great improvement. But this isn't any time to be funny. But the story leaked out, and Bill's Lady in Grey became even more famous.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

For about this time, he had a bad week. Seven nights of drinking and running around town, cashing checks all the time with a low, wormish feeling of approaching reckoning under the talking of nightly parties to get over yesterday's hangover. And every day, down at the office, getting blearier, going to the water cooler with the aspirin bottle in his hand and standing blindly in the window when the terrible 11.30 nausea swept over him in waves. But he didn't know what to do.

Because life didn't have much meaning anyway, and he was having a better time than most people. One warm night, it was the next Monday, he sat in his room alone. The window was open on blackness. The curtains were limp. His electric fan turned its flat face wearily from side to side, stirring up an ineffectual commotion in the air. The phone rang. It was the doorman who said, Mr. Jacobson to see you. Tell him to come up.

What could he want? Jacobson from the office, unctuous and self-righteous. For I hardly knew the man. The doorbell buzzed. Come in. Good evening. Good evening. Jacobson came in and sat down. Well, warm, isn't it? Terribly. You probably wonder why I'm here. Jacobson's mouse-like eyes took in the empty highball glass, the bowl of melted ice.

Well, uh... Yes, I do. You want a drink? No, thanks. No, I never touch it. Oh...

Okay. What I wanted to see you about is this. You know, Mr. Selfridge asked me to have a little talk with you, a friendly chat, merely between friends. Yes. It's about your work. A word to the wise, as it were. Oh? Have I been lying down on the job? Am I going to get the gate? Oh, no, no, not that. What?

But the first, perhaps, a trifle? A little too many parties, eh? Yeah, Mr. Selfridge thought that just a quiet tip from a friend. I see. Thank you. Oh, not at all, not at all. It's a pleasure. Yes, I don't doubt it. Oh, well, I didn't mean that. Well, I'll be running along. Jacobson got up. Nice little place you got here. Yes, I like it.

Oh, he hated the man. Why didn't he go? Well, I'd better go. I got a new convertible downstairs. I have to go slow. It'll take me a while. I live in the suburbs, you know. You do? How do you like it? Oh, it's a fine little bus. You can see it from the window. I'll look out. Good night. Good night. See you tomorrow. The lug in this convertible thought, Bill. I wish. He went to the window and looked out.

Presently, Jacobson came out, climbed into a little yellow car, started out, and drove straight into the side of a big truck that had swung around the corner with a horrible ripping and glassy noise. After a long time, Bill whispered, No, it can't be. He waited until he saw people like sudden ants flocking, and then he came back, poured himself a drink, and sat down on the couch. It had happened again.

And just after being told all that about his job, everything he did seemed to be wrong, and it was all his own fault. He gulped down his drink and made another, stronger. The light seemed so bright, made the room look so empty, with only those two black holes of windows. So he turned them out and sat in the single ray that came from the bathroom. When the lights were out, the room changed. The black windows became gradually a soft, warm blue, like a promise of day to come.

It was the room that was dark, but Bill just sat there a long time without moving. Finally, he put his hands over his eyes and whispered, Eat myself! Then the door opened, and in came the lady in gray. Now, it wasn't anyone dressed up to frighten him, or a sister come to call. It was the lady in gray, and Bill knew it. He looked at her steadily as she came nearer, quietly, delicately.

He felt his brains run down the inside of his skull like melting drugstore ice. The room started to rock and then swirl faster and faster. Finally, she was halfway across the room and he threw his glass at her. It smashed against the opposite wall. Bill stood up and whirled around. The whole room was swinging in a grayish haze. He turned to the window. They found him the next morning on the second floor fire escape. One of those horizontal ones with a weight on the end.

He had landed almost in the middle and was doing a ghastly little teeter-totter. A ghastly little story, too, Nelson Olmsted. I can understand now why your listener was never able to forget The Woman in Gray. But what is your second story tonight? It's a story by Algernon Blackwood, Ben, a name in modern short story literature that is synonymous with a particularly frightening kind of narrative.

Blackwood writes with a weird sincerity about the spirit world and the supernatural. This tale we're about to hear is a masterful one about a man who suddenly finds himself irrevocably involved in a crime of which he is innocent. It's a story of suspense called A Suspicious Gift. Blake had been in very low water for months, almost underwater part of the time. Due to circumstances which he was fond of saying were no fault of his own,

And as he sat writing in his room on the third floor back of a New York boarding house, part of his mind was busily occupied in wondering when his luck was going to turn again. In the daytime, he was a reporter on an evening newspaper of sensational and lying habits. His work was chiefly in the police courts, and in his spare hours at night when not too tired or too hungry, he wrote sketches and stories for the magazines that very rarely saw the light of day. On this particular evening, Blake sat scribbling by the only window that wasn't cracked.

His thoughts kept wandering to food, beefsteak and steaming vegetables. He pulled himself together and again attacked the problem. As he did so, there came a gentle knock at the door and Blake started. The knock was repeated louder. Who in the world could it be at this late hour of night? And he said, come in. The door opened in response and the man came in. Blake didn't turn around at once and the other advanced to the center of the room, but without speaking.

Then Blake knew it was no one from the boarding house and turned around. He saw a man, about 40, standing in the middle of the carpet, but standing sideways so that he didn't present a full face. He wore an overcoat, buttoned at the neck, and on the felt hat which he held in front of him, fresh raindrops glistened. In the other hand, he carried a small black bag.

Blake gave him a good look and came to the conclusion that he might be a secretary or a chief clerk or a confidential man of sorts. There was something singular about this man, something far out of the common. Though for the life of him, Blake couldn't say what it was. The fellow was out of the ordinary and in some very undesirable manner. He spoke in a quiet, respectful voice. Are you Mr. Blake? I am. Mr. Arthur Blake? Yes. Mr. Arthur Herbert Blake?

That's my full name. Won't you sit down, please? The man advanced with a curious sideways motion like a crab and took a seat on the edge of the sofa. He put his hat on the floor at his feet, but still kept the bag in his hand. I come to you from a friend who wishes you well. A friend of mine? Just so. A friend of yours. A man or a woman? That I cannot tell you. You can't tell me? I cannot tell you the name.

"'Those are my instructions, but I bring you something from this person. "'I am to give it to you, to take a receipt for it, "'and then to go away without answering any question.' "'Blake stared very hard. "'The man, however, never raised his eyes above the level of the second china knob "'on the chest of drawers opposite. "'What have you got for me, please?' "'By way of answer, the man proceeded to open the bag. "'He took out a parcel wrapped loosely in brown paper.'

When at last the string was off and the paper unfolded, there appeared a series of smaller packages inside. The man took them out very carefully and set them in a row upon his knees. They were all $100 bills. There are $10,000 here, and they are for you. What? $10,000? Are you sure? I mean, you mean they're for me?

He felt quite silly with excitement and grew more so with every minute as the man maintained a perfect silence. Was it a dream? He couldn't believe his ears or his eyes. Yet, in a sense, it was possible. He had read of such things in books. The generous philanthropist who was determined to do his good deed and to get no thanks or acknowledgement for it still had seemed almost incredible. His troubles began to melt away like bubbles in the sun. He thought of the landlady and the arrears of rent, of regular food and clean linen and books and music, of the chance of getting into some respectable business, of...

Well, of as many things as it's possible to think of when excitement and surprise fling wide open the gates of the imagination. But side by side with the excitement caused by the shock of such an event, Blake's caution was beginning to assert itself. It all seemed just a little too much out of the likely order of things to be quite right.

The police courts had taught him the amazing ingenuity of the criminal mind... ...as well as something of the plots and devices... ...of which the unwary are beguiled into the dark places... ...where blackmail may be levied with impunity. The only weak point in the supposition... ...that this was part of some such proceeding... ...was the selection of himself, a poor newspaper reporter, as a victim. It did seem absurd. But then the whole thing was so out of the ordinary... ...in the thought, once having entered his mind...

wasn't so easily got rid of. Blake resolved to be very cautious. The man, meanwhile, though he never appeared to raise his eyes from the carpet, had been watching him closely all the time. "If you will give me a receipt, I'll leave the money at once." He said this with a touch of impatience in his tone, as if he were anxious to bring the matter to a conclusion as soon as possible.

But, now, wait a minute. You say it's quite impossible for you to tell me the name of the well-wisher or why he sends me such a large sum of money in this extraordinary way? The money is sent to you because you are in need of it. It's a present without conditions of any sort attached. You have to give me a receipt only to satisfy the sender that it has reached your hands. The money will never be asked of you again.

Well, suddenly, it flashed across Blake's mind that if he took the money and gave the receipt before a witness, nothing very disastrous could come of the affair. It would protect him against blackmail, if this was, after all, a plot of some sort with blackmail in it. Or, in case the man were a madman or a criminal who was getting rid of a portion of his ill-gotten gains to divert suspicion, there was no great harm done, and he could hold the money till it was claimed or advertised for in the newspapers. "'I'll take the money,' he said."

Although I must say it seems to me a very unusual transaction. And I'll give you such a receipt as I think proper under the circumstances. A proper receipt is all I want. I mean by that a receipt before a proper witness. Perfectly satisfactory. Only it must be dated and headed with your address here in the correct way.

Well, Blake could see no possible objection to this, and he at once proceeded to obtain his witness. The person he had in mind was a Mr. Barkley who occupied the room above his own, an old gentleman who had retired from business and who the landlady said was a miser and kept large sums secreted in his room. He was, at any rate, a perfectly respectable man and would make an admirable witness to a transaction of this sort. Blake made an apology and rose to get him, crossing the room in front of the sofa where the man sat in order to reach the door.

As he did so, he saw for the first time the other side of the visitor's face, the side that had been always so carefully turned away from him. There was a broad smear of blood down the skin from the ear to the neck. It glistened in the gaslight.

Blake never knew how he managed to smother the cry that sprang to his lips, but smother it he did. In a second he was at the door, his knees trembling, his mind in a sudden and dreadful turmoil. His main object, so far as he could recollect afterwards, was to escape from the room as if he noticed nothing, so as not to arouse the other suspicions. The man's eyes were always in the carpet and probably, Blake hoped, he had not noticed the consternation that must have been written plainly on his face. At any rate, he had uttered no cry.

In another second, he would have been in the passage when suddenly he met a pair of wicked staring eyes fixed intently and with a cunning smile upon his own. In the mirror, the visitor was calmly watching his every movement. He tore upstairs, his heart in his mouth.

"'Farkley must come to his aid. This matter was serious, perhaps horribly serious. Taking no money or giving a receipt or having anything at all to do with it became an impossibility. Here was crime, he felt certain of it. He reached the next landing and began to hammer at the old miser's door as if his very life depended on it. He got no answer. He turned the handle and walked into the room and to his immense relief he saw the old man lying asleep in the bed. Blake opened the door to its widest to get more light and then walked in quickly.'

Something clutched at his heart as he looked closer. He stumbled over a chair and found the mattress, calling upon Barkley the whole time to wake up and come downstairs with him. He blundered across the floor and lit the gas over the table. In the full glare, he saw the old man lying huddled up into a ghastly heap on the bed, his throat cut across from ear to ear, and all over the carpet lay new dollar bills, crisp and clean like those he had left downstairs, and strewn about in little heaps.

For a moment, Blake stood stock still, bereft of all power of movement. The next, his courage returned, and he fled from the room and dashed downstairs. He reached the bottom, tore along the passage to his room, determined at any rate to seize the man and prevent his escape until help came.

But when he got to the end of the little landing, he found that his door had been closed and he seized the handle, fumbling with it and his violence. It felt slippery and kept turning under his fingers without opening the door and fully half a minute passed before it yielded and let him in headlong.

First glance, he saw the room was empty and the man gone. Scattered upon the carpet lay a number of bills, and beside them, half hidden under the sofa where the man had sat, he saw a pair of gloves, thick leather gloves, and a butcher's knife. Even from the distance where he stood, the bloodstains on both were easily visible.

Dazed and confused by the terrible discoveries of the last few minutes, Blake stood in the middle of the room, overwhelmed and unable to think or move. And consciously, he must have passed his hand over his forehead, for he noticed that the skin felt wet and sticky. His hand was covered with blood. And when he rushed in terror to the looking glass, he saw that there was a broad red smear across his face and forehead.

Then he remembered the slippery handle of the door and knew that it had been carefully moistened. In an instant, the whole plot became clear as daylight, and he was so spellbound with horror that a sort of numbness came over him, and he came very near to fainting. At this moment, there came a loud knocking at his door.

It was the police, and all Blake could do was to laugh foolishly to himself and wait till they were upon him. He couldn't move or speak. He stood face to face with the evidence of his horrid crime, his hands and his face smeared with the blood of his victim. And a voice, which he knew very well, said, Here it is, third floor back, and the fellow caught red-handed. It was the man with the bag leading in the two policemen. Hardly knowing what he was doing in the fearful stress of conflicting emotions, he made a step forward.

But before he had time to make a second one, the two policemen moved up to seize him. His only thought was that there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could do. You can turn up the lights now. You can look around you. Nobody is there, really. Everything is all right, isn't it?

Thank you, Nelson Armstead, for two exciting stories. The Woman in Gray by Walker G. Everett and A Suspicious Gift by Algernon Blackwood. Now, what about next week? Well, Ben, next week I plan to present two stories which I think you'll like very much. One is a narrative which has popped into my mind at the oddest and most unexpected moments. I've never been able to forget it. I've even tried to imagine what I would do under similar circumstances.

It concerns a man who made a fantastic wager. He bet that for two million dollars, he could spend 15 years in solitary confinement. Would you do it? Anton Chekhov writes a vivid story about the bet. Our second tale is by George Moore, entitled The Clerk's Quest. The human mind is universally enigmatic. Like fingerprints, no two form the same pattern, and no two run the same course of emotion.

Because of our ignorance as to the operation of the human mind, great writers have been fascinated with the subject. George Moore's story is an example. It concerns a poor bank clerk who smells perfume on an envelope and because of it falls disastrously in love with a woman he never sees. Be with us next week. May I add just a word of thanks for your letters. We have been immensely pleased that so many of you have taken the time to write. Thank you for your interest.

You have been listening to Sleep No More, an NBC Radio Network production directed by Kenneth McGregor. Mr. Armstead's albums are recorded exclusively for Vanguard Records. Until next week, when Nelson Armstead will again be here in person, this is Ben Grauer bidding you good night.

Day 1210

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, stay tuned for terror. Stay tuned for thrills and excitement. Listen to Craig Dennis in Lizzie Borden Took an Axe. Written by Robert Block for Weird Tales Magazine and adapted by the author especially for this program.

You'll hear it now if you... Stay... For... Terror. Hmm. Hmm.

And now, here is Craig Dennis in Lizzie Borden Took an Axe. Morning Bulletin, Jim Daly speaking. Jim, Jim, help me. Anita, what's the matter? I can't tell you, Jim, but it's happened. I'll come out at once. You must help me.

That's how it started. On a hot morning in July, with Anita's fear-filled voice pleading with me over the telephone. I left the office, got out the car, and raced down the long, lonely road leading to that house in the hills. I didn't know what I might find when I reached that house. Anything could happen there, with Anita locked up all alone with her crazy guardian. The thought of my fiancé alone with that madman almost terrified me.

For old Gideon Godfrey was insane. That's what I was afraid of. Anita told me that her uncle was hexing her, putting the curse of the evil eye on her. Nonsense, of course. Anita was too intelligent to believe such superstitions. But living there all alone under the power of that demented man, her sanity was going, too. I could see it. Lately, she had told me about something black. Something black that came into her bedroom at night. It was a sort of trailing mist, but it had a face.

and a voice. Both were horrible. It seemed to whisper to her when she was asleep, and then she would fight off the inky tentacles that clutched her body and wake up screaming. She called it an incubus, a night demon. She said Gideon Godfrey sent it to her. Yes, I had good reason to be afraid. The cunning maniac and the frightened girl, alone together in a lonely house, and now that phone call. When I pulled up before the house, I jumped out and made for the door.

I didn't nod, but walked right in. Anita stood in the parlor at the far side of the room, waiting. She said nothing, just held out her arms. I moved across the room to embrace her, but as I walked, I stumbled over something. I looked down and saw what I had stumbled over. The body of Gideon Godfrey lay on the floor, the head split open and crushed to a bloody pulp. ♪♪

Jim, Jim, help me. You must help me, Doc. Of course I'll help you, but what happened? Well, it was hot this morning. I was out in the barn. I felt tired. I dozed off in the hayloft. Then all at once I woke up and came into the house. I found my uncle lying here. Wasn't there any noise? Nobody around? Not a soul. Somebody killed him with an axe. But where is the axe? The axe? I don't know.

It should be by the body if someone killed him. Well, just a minute. Jim, Jim, where are you going? I'm going to call the police. Oh, no, Jim. Don't you see? If you call them, they'll think I did it. Yes, that's right. Pretty flimsy story, isn't it, Anita? If we only had a weapon, fingerprints or footprints or clues, you're sure you were out in the barn when this happened? Oh, yes. Can't you remember more than that? No, it's all so confused. I...

I had one of my dreams, you know. The black thing came. I seem to remember I went out there for fishing sinkers. Fishing sinkers? In the barn? Listen to me. You're not Anita Loomis. You're Lizzie Borden. Yes, she was like Lizzie Borden. I told her the story then. The story of Lizzie Borden. It was like the old jingle that began running through my brain. Lizzie Borden took an axe.

and gave her mother 40 whacks. When she saw what she had done, she gave her father 41. They had accused Lizzie Borden of murdering her parents one hot summer day after she came in from sleeping in the haymower. They said she took an axe to them. It was a famous case and now Anita was shuddering in my arms. Oh, Jim. Jim, don't tell me stories like that. Are you trying to compare me to that woman?

Are you hinting that I took an axe to my uncle? I'm not hinting anything. Just pointing out how similar your case is to Lizzie Borden's. Maybe that's the explanation of her case, too. Maybe she was possessed of a demon. Maybe the black spirit of murder descended upon her when she slept. Told her to wake up and take an axe and kill. Take it easy now. I need to stop it. There are no such things. You're just upset. You've got to think this thing out now.

Eventually, we must call the police. We can't get around that. But right now, the thing to do is try and find that axe. We started to search for the murder weapon then. We covered every room. There was no axe. Finally, I sent Anita to look upstairs while I went over the parlor again. There was nothing. My head began to swim. It was hot, quiet. There was only silence and silence.

That body on the floor with its ghastly grin. And then, all at once, I saw it. It was like a cloud. A black cloud. But it wasn't a cloud. It was a face. A face covered by a mask of wavering smoke. A mask that leered and pressed closer. I couldn't move. Then I heard something swish. I turned. It was Anita. As I grasped her wrists, she screamed and fainted. The black cloud over her face disappeared, oozed into air.

As she fell, I pried something loose from her rigid hands. It was a blood-stained axe. I put it down on the sofa and went into the other room. I carried the axe with me. No sense in taking chances. I trusted Anita, but not that thing. Not that black thing that swirled up like smoke to take possession of a living brain and make it lust to kill. In the other room, I phoned the police and sat down to wait. What could we tell them? The truth?

They wouldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe that an incubus could enter a human body and make it attempt a murder. But I knew how it must have entered into her. Made her kill Gideon Godfrey. I felt the cool axe blade in my hand as I leaned back. The verse kept going in my head. "Leszie Borden took an axe." What was that? I woke with a start. At first I thought the police had arrived.

Then I realized it was thunder. A heat storm was breaking. I blinked and got up from the chair. Then I realized that something was missing. The axe was gone from my hands. Anita! She must have awakened while I slept, come in here and stolen the axe again. Yes, what a fool I was to sleep. A demon! It had come back to her, entered into her. I faced the door, saw the trail of blood. It was true. I ran into the other room. Then I gasped with relief.

For Anita was still lying on the couch. I looked at the trail of blood on the floor. For the first time, I noticed that it seemed to lead away from her, not towards her. What did it mean? It meant she wasn't possessed of the demon now while she slept. Maybe, maybe the demon came to me when I dozed off. I was trying to remember. Where was the axe? Where could it be now? Then I knew. Knew everything. Knew that the demon had entered me while I slept.

Knew what I had done because I saw that axe now, crystal clear. That axe buried to the hilt in the top of Anita's head. You have just heard Craig Dennis in Lizzie Borden Took an Axe.

adapted for radio by Robert Block, from his story in Weird Tales magazine. The original music on this program was conceived and played by Romel Fay. In just a moment, we'll tell you about the next story in... Stay tuned for... In the meantime... ♪♪

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

I devise and bequeath to my heirs the seven deadly sins. Anger, jealousy, revenge, lust, envy, hate, and despair. And here is our distinguished star of radio, screen, and stage, Warren William.

Of all the sins that live in the human heart, none is so deadly as despair. It has been truly spoken that when a man loses faith in his friends, his neighbors, and himself, he is truly in a sorry plight. Harry McNeil, the Prince of Broadway, on a certain night not long ago, learned the full bitter meaning of the sin of black despair. I'll tell you the story in just a moment, after we hear a word from your announcer.

♪♪

And now back to Warren William as John Francis O'Connell in The Prince of Broadway.

These are stories of strange wills made by strange people. Strange people whose last written chapter in the book of life is dominated by good or evil. The Prince of Broadway is the story of my friend Harry McNeil, actor's agent. But Harry was more than just an actor's agent. He had that uncanny genius of seeing talent where others couldn't. And once he took some talented youngster under his wing, he never stopped until his goal was reached.

For ten years, he discovered and promoted new talent for his company, Artists Incorporated, and sent a steady stream of actors, singers, and dancers to successful careers and fame. And then, one day, he grew tired and quit his job. After an extended vacation in Bermuda, he came back to New York and opened a very small office in the heart of Tin Pan Alley.

The very first chance I had, I dropped in at his new address to wish him success in his new venture.

Well, it is, my friend, the old mouthpiece in person. And do me a favor and park the tombstones outside, will you? No tombstones with me, Harry. Just a social call and an invitation to lunch thrown in for good measure. Well, we'll skip the lunch today, John, if we may, but come on in, let's chew the fat. And forget the dignity of the law, if that's possible. No, that's not only possible, Harry, but a pleasure. I'll bring you up to date on Broadway gossip, but...

But tell me, Harry, how did Artists Incorporated take your leaving? Not very graciously, I can assure you. They even offered me a vice presidency and a trunk full of shekels to stay on, but no soap. I'm a free soul from now on. I'm going to be choosy. No more discovering, butting genius. You got to have it when they come in or else. Or else what, Harry? Or else I don't want them, that's all. Handle only names now, Mr. Mouthpiece. Look, see these gray hairs on my temple?

That's what I got trying to put potential geniuses in marquee lights. Gray hair and ulcers at 29. If I keep it up, where do you think I'll be at 39? Well, I'll tell you. You'll be filing my will in probate court, and for all I know, adding my will to your collection of strange wills made by strange people. Oh, no, not for me. You still give me a laugh in spite of your new resolutions. But I know you better than you think I do.

Yeah? There's someone to see you, Harry. Tell him to come back tomorrow. I'm busy. I didn't say it was a him. It's a her. Get what I mean? Well, um, well, maybe it's Alice Faye or Sonia Haney. Honey, what's her name? Just a minute. She says her name is Pulaski, Gertrude Pulaski. She has a letter for you from her singing teacher in Oshkosh. Gosh. I'm sending her in. Hey, wait, honey, wait. Oh.

When Gertrude Pulaski stood in the doorway, neither Harry or I could take our eyes away from her. She must have been the inspiration of... Did you ever see a dream walking? Luxurious ash blonde hair fell in soft ringlets around her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of a deep purple violet. Her figure would have made even the great Ziegfeld take a second look. And her provocative smile, well... Hello. Hello.

Oh, come in, Mrs. Gertrude. Thank you. Well, Harry, if you'll excuse me, I'll be running. Oh, no, no, no, don't go, John. This will only take a minute or two. Gertrude, I'm Harry McNeil. This is my good friend and attorney, John Francis O'Connell. Oh, it is a pleasure. How do you do? I know why you're here, Gertrude. You don't have to tell me. You want a career. Oh, yes. You want your name on Broadway. Yes. You want fame and fortune. Yes.

But it's no use. I don't develop talent anymore. I only take names, people who have reputations. Oh. I'm sorry, but... But what, Mr. McNeil? But what? Oh, but what will you sing? Of course, you hear? Let me sit down at the piano. Now then, let's find a good number. You know this one? Yes, of course, and I'll play it, too. Good enough. Here, here. I'll move over. Room enough? More than enough. Now you can turn the pages for me. Oh, that'll be a pleasure. ♪

Summertime And the living is here Hold it, hold it. Just a minute. That's enough. Look, sugar, let's relax and sing a little bit lower, will you? Now, this isn't an audition for the Met. These words were written right from some guy's heart. I want you to sing them from your heart. Here, move over and let me play it for you. Now, let's try it again. Yes, Mr. McNeil. Okay. Okay.

Summertime The livin' is easy We've heard of racehorses kept under wraps until the day of the big race. Well, Harry McNeil went one better with the beautiful Gertrude Pulaski. Six months went by, six long months that had my imagination on edge because I couldn't wait to learn what had happened to his newest discovery. He only gave me hints.

But one morning, I received an invitation in the mail to attend the debut of Judy Morrison in a song recital at Harry McNeil's penthouse apartment the following Saturday night. Oh, exit, Gertrude Pulaski. Enter Judy Morrison. The debut of a McNeil discovery was always one of the highlights for blasé columnists and important bigwigs. They were seldom, if ever, disappointed.

Always the showman, Harry kept Gertrude, I mean Judy Morrison, out of sight until our natural excitement and curiosity reached a crescendo. And then, at exactly 11 o'clock, she made her triumphal entry. The girl was breathtaking. She wore a long, flowing, green evening gown that accentuated the ash blondness of her hair. Her charm and smile were devastating. Her poise was perfect.

In appearance and demeanor, Judy Morrison was sensational. Well, now that you've all had a good look at Judy, she'll show you that beauty in appearance and voice are not incompatible. Judy, will you take over the keyboard, please? I don't know why I love you like I do. I don't know why I just do. I don't know what thrill me like you. I don't know why you just do. You never seem to want me.

Well, Judy, you've seen how your friends and mine like you. Supposing you thank them in your own way. Of course I do thank you so very much. But you and I, all of us...

Have this night been privileged to worship at the altar of a genius, the genius of Harry McNeil. Everything that I am, that I may one day be, I owe to him. His unselfish love, his patience, his wisdom, his... I only wish that he loved me half as much as I love him. From that night on, the ultimate success of Judy Morrison was an accepted fact. Harry arranged for her triumphal appearance at the world-famous Rococo Room.

The papers were filled with stories about her. But the day before she was to open, a storm broke. Harry called me. It's serious, John. I don't want to tell you about it over the phone, but I need a good lawyer, and quick. I'll come over right away, Harry. Oh, when Judy came to my office that day, she had a letter for me. I forgot to ask her for it, and she forgot to give it to me. It was a letter from her singing teacher up in Ice Sky. She addressed to Artists Incorporated, to my attention...

"'You see, John, everything was wonderful "'until her teacher came into town to attend her opening. "'He went over to Artists Incorporated to thank them for what they had done, "'and then, bluey, they found out that Judy was their property. "'I'm accused of piracy, but much worse, John. "'They've succeeded in blackballing Judy from every top spot in the country.'

As long as I have her under my wing, Judy will never get a job. I'm really sorry to hear this, Harry. Can't we make a deal? No, no, it's out of the question. They hate me for pulling out and they're after my scalp. John, nothing, nothing must stand in the way of Judy's career. I've never told a living soul, much less Judy, but I'm in love with her.

From the first day she stood in that doorway, I fell head over heels in love. Well, why don't you tell her? After all, marriage still comes before a career in my book. How do you know that Judy will... No, no, John. You see, we belong in different schools. To us, the theater is theater. It transcends everything. The show's got to go on. Judy will be everything I planned for her to be. I'll tell you how I want it worked.

Draw up my will. What are you going to do? A brody from Brooklyn Bridge? No, not that. I want you to will Judy Morrison, body and soul, to Artists Incorporated. Harry, you're talking like a fool. Well, if they own her, she'll go to town. She'll be where she belongs, on the top of the heap. And you, Harry? You know, John, I've held a pilot's license for five years. We're not in the war yet, but England is, and they need flyers.

One more thing. I want your word that you'll never tell Judy what really happened. Tell her, yes, just say that I got tired of going on. That I did everything I could for her, and from now on, she's on her own. I never thought that I'd live to see the day that you'd run out on Judy. You'll never know, John, how black, how bitter despair can be. If I have my way, you'll never see me alive again.

Part two of Strange Wills will follow in just a moment. ♪♪

♪♪

And now back to The Prince of Broadway and Warren William. My friend Harry McDaniel disappeared from the world of men.

Meanwhile, under the banner of Artists Incorporated, Judy Morrison became an overnight sensation. One night, Judy called me and asked me to meet her at the swank zebra room where she was currently appearing. I noticed a tenseness in her voice. John, I can't hold out any longer. I've got to know why Harry threw me over. It wasn't like him. Why is that important, Judy? Haven't you got what you wanted from life? Beauty, charm, talent, fame? No.

You're the toast of Broadway. Values in life change, John. Believe me. Nine months ago, I thought that was what I wanted. I thought that success was all that mattered. But I've changed. John, you never know what is in your heart until someone you once loved is gone. Now I know how deeply, how very deeply I loved Harry. It was because of him that I was able to reach this thing we call success. I know now that he was my inspiration. I want him, John.

I want him with all my heart. But he's gone, Judy. He joined the RAF. That's all any of us know. He's never written a line to a single one of his friends. John, tell me, tell me honestly. Did he love me? Well, really, Judy... You've got to tell me. You see, if Harry loved me, I'll search the world to find him just to sit at his feet. If he didn't, if he really tired of me, if I must abandon hope, then I'm going to marry Felix George, the vice president of Artis Incorporated. He proposed to me last night.

I said I'd give him my answer tonight. If ever a man was saved with a bell, it was I. Judy was called to go on with her act, and I was left alone to ponder the question of legal ethics and love. I was sworn to silence by my client, and yet I wanted to tell Judy the truth. I want to dedicate my next number to a very great and gallant man. His name is Harry McNeil, and I know no matter where he may be, he'd like to hear the song I'm going to sing.

You see, he taught me how to sing it. My dream comes home Then my dreams no more grow I will meet you and greet you You closely I owe Who lit water will sing Of the tender love

you'll bring we'll be sweethearts when my dream you see mr consular i put my cards on the table i've got a little boat of dreams that i won't let go of listen judy i'm going to do something i shouldn't but i'm willing to live with my conscience in spite of my action you're right

Harry loved you as no other human being ever will. Oh. He turned you over to Artists Incorporated because your singing teacher gave you a letter addressed to them. And by that letter, you belonged to them. They had you blackballed in every spot in town. And Harry did the greatest thing a real man ever did. He willingly and knowingly sacrificed his deep love for you in order that your ambitions would be realized. I knew it. I felt it all the time.

Oh, John, why didn't you tell me? I thought you wanted a career, Judy. I honestly did. Oh, John, men are such fools. Such fools. Judy's offer to entertain British troops was quickly and eagerly accepted. Within two months, she had arrived in London, and then she began her long search for Harry McNeil. Meanwhile at home, events moved with startling rapidity.

Then there came that day of infamy, December 7th, 1941. I received my commission as Captain U.S. Infantry and was assigned to legal duties in the Provo Marshal's office in London. Three days after my arrival, I had lunch with Judy at the Savoy. I think he's dead, John, and yet I won't be satisfied until I'm positive. He's listed as missing in action, and the squadron commander told me that...

That he was shot down in flames over Burlingame. Oh, don't give up, Judy. I've always believed in a sort of special providence that watches over people in love. No, I won't give up.

I'll keep right on searching if it takes me the rest of my life. Then came D-Day. France was liberated. World-stirring events followed in rapid succession. Germany was invaded. The Battle of the Bulge. And the end was nearing. And then, the news we had all been waiting for, Germany surrendered. But as the war came to its inevitable end, Judy became more disconsolate.

Though she searched every hospital in Europe, no trace was ever found of a Major McNeil. He had disappeared. Judy and I met once more in Munich. I hardly recognized her when I called for her at her billet. Her eyes were sunken, she was pale and wan, and the emotional strain she'd been under these past years was indelibly etched on her face. It's all over, John. My hopes are run out.

There's nothing left for me now but to go home. Judy, you've done everything a human being could possibly do under these conditions. You're tired, young lady. You must go back immediately. Yes, I know. I've made arrangements to fly to London tomorrow, and then it's back to New York. It's too bad, Judy. Yes, John, I guess my little boat of dreams is finally founded. What time is it, please? Why, uh, it's 3.30. Would you be a kind man and take a ride with me? Where to? On my last appearance.

I'm scheduled to sing at a little hospital just outside of Oberammergau. I understand that most of the patients are blind. I'm at your service, Judy. And if you will permit me to say so, I consider it an honor and a privilege. We have only about 60 patients. They are nationals of every country in the war. Are they all blind, Doctor? Most of them. But we have about 20 who are psychopathic cases. We are especially happy that you have come, Miss Morrison...

You see, we have learned that musical therapy is very beneficial as a means of recovery. In many instances, our medical knowledge is of little value. Well, if you are ready... You come too, John, won't you? Of course, if I can be of help. Come this way, please. Our piano survived a war, but I'm afraid it's badly out of tune. Here we are. Many of them are seriously wounded as well as blind. Oh, John, how horrible. Frau Zimmermann will accompany you. You have your music? Oh, yes, doctor, here it is.

I walk around the room as I sing. You see, Doctor, I'm looking for a certain soldier. In fact, I've been looking now for almost four years. He's listed as missing in action. What is his name? McNeil. Major Harry McNeil of the Royal Air Force. I'm sorry, Miss Morrison, but our records do not show... Yes, I know. I've heard that from London to Berlin. But I'm still looking. When my dreams no more

Judy sang her heart out to those boys, just as she'd done month after month, year after year. She visited every bed, looking, hoping, praying. Many of the patients were swathed in bandages from head to foot. How she ever hoped to identify Harry was beyond understanding.

But as she stood there, literally singing with eyes full of tears, she was a picture I'll never forget. The late afternoon sun came streaming into the room and formed an aura of light over her head. She looked like and was an angel of mercy. Oh, John, my last hope is gone. Take me home, please. We walked slowly to the door. Her head was bowed. Judy was crying softly. Just as we reached the door, she stopped.

She turned and took a last lingering look around the room. The sun had dipped even lower and shone across the beds of the wounded, making long, grotesque shadows on the wall. And then we walked out through the door. Suddenly, Judy raised her head. Her eyes had a wild, startled look. She grabbed my arm and looked up into my eyes. John! John, the ring! I saw it! The ring! His ring!

Oh, what a fool! She turned and ran back into the room. Ran to the bed of a man swathed in bandages from head to foot. Only his hands were showing. And on his finger I saw the ring. A black onyx stone that caught the last faint shimmer of sunshine. Judy was kneeling at the bed, sobbing as only a desperate love can sob. I found you, Harry. I found you. And she stood silently by, watched through tear-filled eyes...

We saw the hand of our brave and blind Major Harry McNeil close tenderly over hers. ♪♪ Warren William will be back in just a moment to tell you the rest of the story of The Prince of Broadway. But first, here is a word from your announcer. ♪♪

And here again is Warren Williams.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

And so, two wonderful young people found out that the theatre and love are not only compatible, but necessary for a complete happiness. And Harry's famous will, well, I just added it to my collection of strange wills.

Next week, I'm going to tell you a story about a last will... ...that started a treasure hunt on the floor of the ocean... ...for a king's ransom in rubies, diamonds and pagan gold. The log of the Spanish three-master Toledo... ...was washed ashore on a desolate West Indies island... ...through modern science and the skill of a beautiful young forensic chemist. The last position of the ship was discovered...

discovered not only by Captain Paul George, courageous young American, but unfortunately by the desperate crew of an ex-German U-boat who had fled Germany at the end of the war. What took place at the bottom of the ocean is a thriller that I promise you won't forget for a long time to come. We call this strange story Treasure to Starboard. This is Warren William inviting you to listen again next week.

Strange Wills is written by Ken Kropene and directed by Albert Ulrich. This is a Tellaways feature produced in Hollywood. Suspense. This is the Man in Black, here again to introduce Columbia's program, Suspense. Our starring Hollywood cast of characters reads as follows for tonight.

Azanjule, one of those stark, severe, and terrifying women who is encountered ever so often along the grimmer outposts of the American countryside. Miss Agnes Moorhead, as Carol Linden, the girl who returned to a scene of childhood happiness, found terror living in the house. Miss Ellen Drew, as Paul Carroll's husband who had his own ideas as to the explanation of these strange events. Mr. Ted Reed.

A first radio play by Larry Roman called Uncle Henry's Rosebush is tonight's tale of suspense. If you have been with us before, you will know that suspense is compounded of mystery and suspicion and dangerous adventure. In this series are tales calculated to intrigue, to stir your nerves, to offer you a precarious situation and then withhold a solution until the last possible moment.

And so it is with Uncle Henry's Rosebush and the performances of Agnes Moorhead as Aunt Julie, Ellen Drew as Carol, and Ted Reed as Paul. We again hope to keep you in... Suspend. I shall tell you the story exactly as it happened. There's no use pretending. I'll never forget, and I know I'll not awake and find it all a dream.

It's real, and for the rest of my life, I shall know it's real. Paul was to have his first vacation since we were married. I suggested we visit my Aunt Julie and Uncle Henry, who had a small farm upstate. They had always been very kind to me. When I was a child, I used to spend my summer vacations with them. They loved children. I've often wondered why they never had any of their own. Some time ago, I'd lost track of them.

They'd never seen Paul, and I was certain they'd like to. Paul said it would be fine. We'll surprise them, I thought. We were the ones who were surprised.

Just a few more miles, Paul. Remember this road. We used to hike along it going to the village. Ah, this country air is wonderful. Two weeks of green grass and wicker chairs. I can't think of anything better. Oh, you'll love Aunt Julie and Uncle Henry. They live alone, quiet and peaceful. It'll be quite a change from the city. Yeah. Well, they must be happy together. Oh, they are, but they're lonely.

Smooth lawns and orchards. And flowers. Uncle Henry planted huge rose bushes around the porch. Every night as I crawled in the bed, he used to bring me a rose. They're his favorite flowers. Ah, vacation, here we come. Come on, Carl, let's go. Just around the bend. Here we go. There it is. Carol, look. Why, Paul.

Are you sure this is the place? Yes, but all the weeds and the broken shutters. Looks as though it's been neglected for months. I don't understand. Perhaps it's deserted. But it can't be. It's their home. Oh, come on. Let's go up and see. The dirt on this porch must be an inch thick. No answer. Nobody here. Look, Paul, over there at the end of the porch. The rosebush.

Uncle Henry's rosebush. Why, it's trimmed and neat. It's the only thing that seems to be taken care of. Well, then somebody must be here. Maybe they can tell us what happened to Aunt Julie and Uncle Henry. Knock again. Someone's coming. Well? We're looking for a Mr. and Mrs. Connors. They used to live... Why, Aunt Julie, I didn't recognize you.

Well, it's me, Aunt Julie. It's Carol. I wasn't expecting you. Paul's vacation. We thought we'd spend it here. Well, you've been asking for us for years. This is Paul, my husband. Carol's told me so much about you. Why did you come? What? I said, why did you come? Well, aren't you glad to see us?

Aunt Julie, something's happened. Nothing's happened. Oh, but it did. Tell me, Aunt Julie, we'll help. Of course we will. You shouldn't have come. Well, Carol, if she doesn't want us, let's go. No, Paul. This isn't like you, Aunt Julie. Something dreadful has happened. I know it. Go, Carol. Please go. Listen, if it's money, Aunt Julie, well, we haven't got too much, but you're welcome to it. I tell you, nothing's wrong. But there must be. This house... You're her husband. I'm asking you to take her and go away. Oh. Come on, Carol.

We're not wanted. Let's go. We're going to stay. Well, there you are. She's your niece, and you know how stubborn she can be. We're going to stay. Where's Uncle Henry? I say, where's Uncle Henry? He's... he's not here. Oh, but where is he? He's not here. Isn't that enough? Well, he'll be back. He won't be. Oh, but Aunt Julie... He won't ever be back! I stood there bewildered. Aunt Julie had run out of the room. Perhaps she was crying. I don't know.

I just knew that Uncle Henry was gone. That he had left her. It seemed strangely impossible. They'd always been so happy. So supremely happy that it seemed that the only thing that could separate them on this earth was death. And now this. I couldn't believe it.

Paul and I walked into the living room. It was almost as dusty as the outside. The curtains were dirty, the floor littered with old newspapers. The entire room showed the same signs of neglect as the outside. And when I recalled how neat Aunt Julie had always been with her housework, oh, a feeling of apprehension crawled up my back. Frankly, I was frightfully worried, and I could tell by the look on Paul's face that he was worried, too.

I don't like it, Paul. There's something strange here. Yeah. I never saw a house in such a mess. It's not just the house. It's more than that. Something much more. I'm sure of it. Well, really, Carol, it's none of our business, don't you? Well, perhaps not, but you don't know Aunt Julie like I do. She'd never ask for help, no matter how much she needed it.

I'm just not trying, Paul. I suppose you're right. They've always been so kind to me. I've got to help them. But how can we, Carol? We don't even know what's wrong. They were always so happy together. Somehow I can't believe they've broken up. Something else has happened. Something terrible. Something terrible.

And I'm going to stay until I find out what. Well, in that case, we'd better find a place to sleep. All the bedrooms are upstairs. Come on. Right. Wow. Look at the dust on the banister. I bet this place hasn't been cleaned in a month. Paul. Huh? Did you see the way she looks?

Yeah. Gee, her face seems completely wrinkled with worry. No wonder I didn't recognize her. She seems much older and frightened. Well, do you think she's ill? I don't know. I wish I did. Wow, look at that hall. Gloomy and dirty. Where do these doors go to? That one's to Aunt Julie's room, and this one's Uncle Henry's.

The one across the way is the spare. I guess that's ours. Well, let's go in. Wow. What a mess. Well, might as well get busy cleaning. Yeah, there's nothing like a good round of house cleaning before supper. Paul.

So long as Uncle Henry's not here, maybe we can take his room. It's got an adjoining door to Aunt Julie's, and then in case she needs us, we'll be near. Okay. It doesn't matter to me which room we clean. Let's go. Yeah. This one over here. Well, this is... Oh, look. It's all clean and neat. Well, I'll be darned. It's the only clean place in the whole house. I don't understand.

Every room is inches in dirt, except this one. The outside is completely neglected. Except the rosebush. Uncle Henry's room and Uncle Henry's rosebush. I don't get it. Well, look on the dresser there. Aunt Julie's picture and a pipe and tobacco. Why, that's Uncle Henry's favorite pipe. Drawers full of shirts, socks, underwear. Carol, if your uncle went away, why did he leave this? I don't know. Strange, but...

What's that paper, Paul? Why, it looks like... It is an insurance policy for $30,000 payable to your Aunt Julie in case Uncle Henry dies. Carol, this is... What are you two doing here? Aunt Julie, I... What are you doing here? Well, we thought that we could... What's that in your hand? An insurance... Give it to me. And keep out of this room. We didn't mean to... I didn't know how to take this.

Uncle Henry's pipe and all his clothes were still in his room. And yet, Uncle Henry was gone. I couldn't understand why Aunt Julie got so angry. I looked to Paul for an explanation. I could tell he had something on his mind. But I didn't dare ask him what it was, and he didn't say. After Aunt Julie's outburst, we went back to the spare room and cleaned it. Then we washed and started downstairs for supper.

Watch your step, Carol. These aren't the strongest-looking stairs. You'll be all right. Paul, what do you make of Aunt Julie's behavior? Frankly, Carol, I'm worried. I'm frightened. May as well admit it. There's something stranger that frightens me to death. Well, I... I don't think there's anything to be frightened of. It's just that... Oh. There, that's the last step. This way to the kitchen. All right. Oh, as I was saying, I don't think there's... Look out, Carol! Oh, my God.

Well, that was close. That vase just missed you. A vase? Yes, and it was a heavy one. The one at the top of the stairway. If it would have hit me... Yeah. Oh, Paul, I'm frightened. Look, coming down the stairs. What happened? The vase fell. Just missed Carol. Oh, don't worry about it. I didn't lock the vase anyway. The vase? Yes.

What about Carol? She almost got killed. Never mind, Paul. It was an accident. An accident? We were just going in for supper, Aunt Julie. Care to join us? Well, I... Come on, Aunt Julie. It'll do you good. Oh, all right. Here. You two sit right down. I'll have something prepared in a minute. I'm not very hungry. Oh, nonsense, Aunt Julie. I'll fix something that'll make your mouth water. Here.

You know, when Carol and I get through cleaning this place up, it'll look just like new. Yeah? Sure. I think when Carol and I have a family, we'll take them to a farm. Really? Yes, yes. You know, this place would be swell for children. Oh, what do you mean? What did I say?

What's the matter? What's the matter with Aunt Julie? Where is she going? I don't know. I was just trying to make conversation. Just talked about children on a farm, that's all. Oh, Paul, I'm frightfully worried. Do you think we ought to call a doctor for her? I don't know. We have to do something. She certainly doesn't look too well. But maybe she isn't really sick. What do you mean? Well, maybe if your Uncle Henry did leave her...

Well, then maybe... You mean... You mean she still loves him? It's possible, but... Oh, but you don't really believe it. Oh, Carol, I don't know what to believe. I just know something's wrong. Uh-huh. I'm not hungry, Paul. Me either. Let's go for a walk. Maybe we can figure something out.

The country's so peaceful and beautiful in the night. Yes, it is. I wish you could enjoy it. But I can't. Don't try to fool me. Your first vacation in years and you run into this. Well, we have to help her. Of course. But how? We don't even know what's wrong. She not only won't tell, but we can't get near her long enough to talk to her. Suppose Uncle Henry really did leave her.

He may have gone off in a huff. That would account for the clothes being here. Well, perhaps. And suppose she still is in love with him. Well, that would account for... Oh, but even if that's so, could that make her feel so badly? Make her act like this? Not talking, neglecting everything? Everything except his room and his flowers. I don't know. A woman's love is a strange thing. If you left me, I don't know what I'd do. Well, if that is the case...

The thing to do is to make her forget. That won't be easy. No, I don't imagine it would be. But suppose... Suppose we take her to the city with us. Until she forgets. Well, we could ask her at least. Yeah. Yeah, come on. Let's go find her. Hey, watch out. You almost fell. I tripped. I'm all right. Look, Pa. What? Look what I tripped over. It's a mound of freshly dug earth. What's that for? Pa...

Paul, it looks like a grave. Don't be silly. Why, it's just a... Forget it. Come on, let's find Aunt Julie. Paul, that... Forget it. Say, what's that building over there? That's the barn. There used to be a swell old cow there with a bell around her neck and chickens and ducks and all sorts of pets. This must have been a happy place. It was, but now... Paul, standing by the barn, is Aunt Julie. Aunt Julie?

Come on, let's ask her now. Aunt Julie? What are you doing? Following me? How could you? Well, it was a nuisance. Oh, Aunt Julie. Oh, a cat with its neck wrung. This was the first indication of Aunt Julie's ruthlessness. It seemed so unlike the Aunt Julie that I knew. She was always kind.

There was no mistaking the anger in her eyes as she stood there in the dim moonlight, the strangled cat in her hands. "She killed it," she said, "because it was a nuisance. If she could do that, what else was she capable of doing?" Paul and I went into the house. We went upstairs and put the finishing touches in our room and went to bed. I couldn't sleep. As I watched the moon make its slow, solitary way across the heaven, I kept thinking, "Paul and I are also a nuisance."

Paul and I are also a nuisance. Toward midnight, I became drowsy and was just beginning to fall off to sleep when I heard footsteps in the hall. Paul. What? Paul. Paul, wake up. What is it? Shh. I hear footsteps in the hall. Footsteps? I don't hear anything. There. Hear it? Yeah. Must be Aunt Julie.

What would she be doing up this time of night? I don't know, but who else could it be? I'll go see. I'm coming with you. Now, quiet. Don't put on the light. I can't see. Yes, now I can. It is Aunt Julie. She's walking down the hall. I think she's coming this way. Quiet. Shh. I think she's...

What's she got in her hand? Looks like a scissors. Scissors? Yes. What would she be doing with... Carol, she's coming this way. Get back in bed, quick. What? Get in bed. All right, now. Quiet. She went out. What? Yeah. She just looked in and left. You think she knew we were awake? I don't see how. Let's follow her. All right. Where's my other slipper? There. All right, come on.

She's going downstairs. Come on, and be quiet. I think she's going outside. Let's go. Not so fast. Give her a chance to get out. There, she's out. Come on. Look, Paul. She's cutting a bunch of roses off the bush. She's taking them around to the back of the house. Come on. Here. Now get down behind this bush. Look, Paul. She's going over to that mound...

And placing the roses on it. But, Paul. Shh. But, Paul, it looks like... Quiet, Carol. She's kneeling beside it. Now she's getting up and coming back. Get down. She's gone. Paul, do you know what that is? I got a pretty good idea. Uncle Harry's roses with Uncle Henry's grave. I said it. Here.

I said it without thinking. Of course, we had no way of knowing Uncle Henry was dead. We had no way of knowing that that was Uncle Henry's grave or that it was a grave at all. But at that moment, stooping behind the bush in the blackness of the country, we felt it, not knowing why. Paul and I went back to our room as quickly and as silently as possible. Needless to say, we didn't sleep anymore. We just kept looking at each other, asking ourselves questions, trying to analyze our feelings.

Soon we could see the streaks of dawn coming up over the treetops. And we slept the early morning hours trying to... trying to convince each other that our thoughts were ridiculous. Frankly, I don't think we succeeded. Finally, we decided not to mention it. To go on with the cleaning the next day as we'd planned, to make believe nothing had happened until we had proof. That day we spent cleaning and all day Aunt Julie was nowhere to be seen. Yet I had a strange feeling that something, someone was watching our every move.

Toward evening, Paul and I sat down for a bite to eat. More coffee? Oh, thanks. I wonder where Aunt Julie is. I don't know, Carol. That's a strange aunt you've got. Yes. Paul, look. The window. What is it? Oh, I thought I saw someone looking in. What? There's no one there now. But I'm sure I saw... Probably just a shadow. Yes. Probably just a shadow. You're on edge, Carol. I'll be all right. Finish your coffee. I'll start cleaning the bathroom. I know.

Both work on the kitchen. And I take care of the downstairs. All right. Paul, you look worried. You know, this whole crazy business. Let's not talk about it. But putting roses on a... I'm sorry, Carol. It's you I'm really worried about. If something should happen to you, I'll never forgive myself. Nothing will happen. Now finish your coffee. I'll start cleaning the bathroom. Okay, Carol. I won't be long. Isn't too bad. There's the sink.

Some hot water. There, that's it. A wash rag around the sink bowl. Oh, dear. Just the wind. I guess I'm getting jumpy. This place won't be half bad when it's clean. The medicine chest. Clean the mirror. And the shelves. Oh. Paul? Paul?

Paul! What is it, Carol? Come here! What is it, Carol? What's the matter? Look, they're in a medicine chest. Where? It's a hypodermic needle. What would a hypodermic needle be doing here? Well, it's not likely to be here for nothing. Look, alongside of it. A bottle of... What's it say? I... I can't read it. It's awful looking stuff. Open the bottle. All right. That corks in tight. There, there. Oh, nauseating. Oh, my God.

Stuff like that would kill a person. Paul, it's not a joke. I'm sorry, Carol. Do you really think Aunt Julie... I don't know. Oh, it can't be, Paul. It can't be. Maybe not, but we'd better find out. And quickly, Carol, there's one more thing to do. I'm going to see if that's really Uncle Henry's grave. I'm going to dig it up. No, Paul, you can't. Don't you see? I have to. If it is, we're in danger. Of course. I'm still not sure that falling vase was an accident.

We have to find out about this business once and for all. I'm coming with you. We walked out toward the back of the house. And through my mind flashed the succession of events. Neglected house, Aunt Julie's insistence that we leave, the roses, the grave, the insurance policy, and now the hypodermic needle in that infernal oil. All the evidence pointed to but one conclusion. I couldn't believe it, and yet, there it was. Motive and method.

And now we were going outside to dig up the last remaining evidence. Well, this is it, Carol. Sure you want to watch? I won't stay in this house alone. Look at the beautiful roses around it. Hurry up, Paul. Let's get it over with. Okay. Here goes. I never thought I'd turn into a grave digger. This dirt isn't packed tight. Easy to dig. Here we go.

It's getting dark. Yeah. Oh, I think I'll run in and get a lantern. I'll be right back, Cal. All right. Every one of those lengthening shadows looks like a ghost. It gets dark quickly in the country. I was afraid, but I knew Paul would be back in a minute. I picked up the shovel and began to dig. That's better. I'm not so nervous. I'm working. Oh.

Is that you behind me, Paul? Bring the lantern closer. Gee, it's so dark. Paul. Paul, I...

Uncle Henry! What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing to my grave? Put it back! Put it back! Oh, my flowers! My beautiful flowers! My lovely roses! You've hurt them! You've hurt my roses! And I won't let you! I won't! I won't! Keep away! Keep away, Uncle Henry! I won't let you hurt my roses! My sweet, delicate roses! Take your hands away! Take them! You broke them! You killed them! Stop it! Stop it, Henry! I'm going to kill her after she did my roses! Stop it! Stop it! Take your hands away! Henry! Henry! Henry! Henry!

Oh, forgive me, Henry. I didn't mean... Are you all right, Carol? Yes. Oh, yes, I think so. What happened? What... Uncle Henry? Aunt Julie saved my life, Paul. And we thought she... Oh, can you ever forgive us, Aunt Julie? You didn't know? You didn't know? And he wasn't dead at all? No. No, he wasn't. I don't understand. He was living in his room all the time, Carol. I was taking care of him.

When you two insisted on staying here, I kept him out of sight. Oh, I didn't want to kill him, and I had to. He would have killed Carol. Aunt Julie. Oh, if you only had left when I asked you to. But perhaps it's better this way. He never got that violent before. I could always take care of him. The hypodermic needle and the sedative calmed him when he got a little wild, but then when I saw him strangle the cat, I knew he was getting completely out of hand.

Yes, it's better this way. He's better off dead. Poor Uncle Henry. The grave and the roses were a whim of his. A whim. And look, he fell right in his own grave. The End

And so closes the story, Uncle Henry's Rosebush, starring Agnes Moorhead, Ellen Drew, and Ted Reed. Tonight's tale of suspense. This is your narrator, the man in black, who conveys to you Columbia's invitation to spend this half hour in suspense with us again next week, same time, when we will present another flowery bouquet of suspicion and terror, and a homicidal maniac at large.

Only this time, the roses will be white. The story will be The White Rose Murders by Cornell Woolrich. The tale of a killer who trademarked his crimes by leaving a white rose on the victim. Our star will be Maureen O'Hara. The producer of these broadcasts is William Spear, with Ted Bliss, the director, Bernard Herman, and Lucian Mahowick, conductor and composer, and Larry Roman, the author, collaborated on tonight's Suspense.

Did you ever break a mirror and spend the rest of the day in dread, wondering what awful fate would befall you? It is bad luck to break a mirror, you know, because the gods in the mirror are protecting you from harm. And when you break your particular mirror, you're darkening the vision of your protectors and anything is liable to happen. Take the strange tale of Celeste Collins. She was a pretty Irish girl of 21 on this day of her birth date.

and the girls in the office were giving her a luncheon party. She was dressing in the bedroom, arranging her hair in a stunning coiffure and admiring herself in her hand mirror. Her hair was her crowning glory, the envy of the girls in the office. And so she preened herself in the mirror, turning first this way and that, completely satisfied with the effect. But she set the mirror down carelessly, and it slipped off the dresser,

falling to the floor with a shattering sound of broken glass. Celeste wrinkled her pretty nose and shrugged her shoulders. Just another miller. At any rate, it was time to go to work. She hurried from the house to catch the subway. While she was fumbling in her purse for a token, it spilled open and all the contents fell out of her toes.

Reaching under the stile to put her bag together only caused a long run in each of her silk stockings. Then she was an hour late for work because the train stalled in the tunnel and dried up transportation, and at the office she overturned a bottle of ink on the whole pile of contract she had typed so carefully the day before.

Well, by noon, Celeste had decided it was just one of those days when you should have stayed in bed. Although Celeste Collins was Irish, and the Irish are fays, steeped in the traditions of leprechauns and strange happenings, she was practical and sensible as well as people. The broken mirror was just a coincidence, and just a silly superstition anyway. And the birthday party that followed erased any doubt she may have had in her mind.

The girls wined her and dined her in the little restaurant around the corner. They'd even gotten her a birthday cake. And even though the morning had been awful, the rest of the day flew by with Celeste as happy as a bird. And so, at five o'clock, she went home. Her birthday had been a great success. It was only an hour later, while she was sewing a dress in the living room, that the doorbell rang. Expectantly, Celeste sprang to answer.

It was a delivery man with a large upright package that towered as high as the door. Celeste signed for it as the man moved the package to the center of the room and popped it up against the table. After he'd left, she eyed the heavy cords that bound the package and suddenly realized that the girls had taken this method of surprising her with a birthday present. Delightedly, she took her sewing shears and cut the cords.

The wrapping paper fell away with a hissing noise, and miraculously, there were two Celeste Collins in the room. The one standing away from the table, the other smiling back from the reflected depths of the full-length mirror propped against the table. But Celeste Collins started to scream. Help!

The face in the mirror was a twisted, satanic thing, an outrageous caricature of the lovely face before it. Celeste stepped back, overwhelmed with fright. She kept backing up, but the awful thing in the mirror receded with her, and then her legs were halted by the sill of the window behind her.

Whirling, Celeste saw her face again in the crystal clear panes of glass in the window. The same hideous, ghastly smile. With a terrible shriek, she hurled herself at the window and fell through. Six stories to the cement courtyard below. So you see, my friend, the birthday present was a gift from hell. Of course, Celeste saw only herself in the mirror. But look for yourself.

Look into the mirror. There, you've dropped it. Broken it into a million fragments. How dreadful. I'm afraid you're in for some bad luck.

Closer and listen carefully. You don't suppose I'm dying because I want to, do you? My family, the men all die suddenly. Always have, always will. Doctors can't explain it. Lots of things doctors can't explain.

Now, when it comes to dying, it's like everything else. If you want a thing done right, do it yourself, I always say. You can't trust anyone with the details, especially these days with the kind of help you get. Howard Williams speaking. Use your own judgment for once and don't call me back. I'm busy dying.

Yes, I said dying. Goodbye. Now you listen and listen carefully. Yeah!

Theater 5 presents a very private phone call.

Nurse Evans, Dr. Barlow has been in my husband's room more than an hour. Is something wrong? Now, Mrs. Williams, you mustn't worry. But I am worried. It isn't like Howard to be sick. Well, we all have to be sick sometimes. And Dr. Barlow is very capable. But it's all been so sudden.

The way Howard fainted last night. And today he couldn't get out of bed. And now Dr. Barlow won't even let me in the room. Oh, Nurse Evans, I just know something terrible is wrong with Howard. Really, worrying won't help, Mrs. Williams. Do let me fix you some coffee. No. And it's no use talking in that soothing way. Howard is going to die. And I'll be left all alone. No, please, you mustn't get... And I can't stand being alone.

My father died when I was 27, and I'd kept house for him since I was 16. And then all of a sudden he was gone. And I was alone. Well, we all have to be alone sometimes. But I hate it.

I'm not practical. I can't even balance my own checkbook. All I know is how to keep a nice house and entertain. And that's been enough for Howard. He was my father's business partner, you know. After father died, he looked after things for me and then...

Well, we just got married. Of course, he's much older, but I like him. I like my husband very much, Nurse Evans. Even if he won't take me on any trips as he promised he would, he won't take you on any trips. I'm not sure I understand. Around the world. Howard is in shipping, and he owns steamships and plantations and mines in Africa and the South Seas and just everywhere.

Places I've longed to go see ever since I read about them when I was a girl. Well, I should think he'd be glad to take you along on his trips, Mrs. Williams. That's just it. He never took any trips. He stayed right here and did all his business by telephone. Do you know how many telephones we have? Thirteen. Thirteen?

Before we were married, he promised we'd go around the world on our honeymoon. But then some business came up and we never went. That's the only thing I have against him in ten years of marriage. I admire and respect him and... But I don't want him to die. I don't want to be left alone again. Now, please, you mustn't let yourself get him. Oh, here's Dr. Barlow. Doctor. Doctor, how is Howard? Mrs. William, your husband wants to speak to you.

You must be very brave. You mean he's going to... I'm sorry to say it's only a matter of time, perhaps of minutes. No. No! He wants some last words with you. Now be strong and don't upset him. I'll try. Good. Go in now. He's waiting for you.

All right. Howard. Ah, there you are. Took you long enough. I suppose that quack Barlow told you. Howard, please don't die. Don't go away. Don't leave me all alone. Oh, stop that confounded blubbering. Yes, Howard. I hate crying women, so control yourself. Yes, Howard. Yeah, that's better.

Now listen to me. You see those three phones on my bedside table? Yes. The black one for your European calls. The white one for your calls to South America. And the red one. The one that never rings. Oh, you've noticed that the red line never rings.

That's because it's intended to ring only once. Only once? I said only once. Don't make me repeat myself. Sorry. When that red line rings, you must be here to answer it. When the time comes, you must not fail me. Promise, Flora? I do, Howard, I do. I won't fail you. Hmm.

Well, I'll give you credit for that. You're reliable. I've tried to be a good wife. Have you been satisfied with me? Yes, of course. You run the house very nicely. Well, then don't die. Don't go away and leave me all alone. Stop sniffling. I told you I detest crying women. I'll try.

You don't suppose I'm dying because I want to, do you? In my family, the men all die suddenly. Always have, always will. Doctors can't explain it. Lots of things doctors can't explain.

Now listen, Laura. And listen carefully. It's the phone. Which phone is it? White one. South America. See who it is. Not at a time like this. It's business. Answer it. Hello? Just a moment, please.

It's Rio de Janeiro. Shall they send your freighter Woodbine on to Tahiti and then Bally Bally or direct to Australia? Let me have it. Here. Hello. Howard Williams speaking. Use your own judgment and don't call me back. I'm busy dying. Yes, I said dying. That ought to give him something to think about. Howard? Well...

Are they really so romantic? Is who so romantic? You know, Rio de Janeiro, Tahiti, Ballybarri. They're all Americanized with neon lights and soda pop machines. Just the same, I'd like to see them. I'd like so much to see them. Now we'll never go. You're dying. We'll never go anywhere. Howard...

Howard! Doctor! Doctor! What is it, Mrs. Williams? Nurse, my kit. Yes, sir. Hurry. No perceptible pulse. Respiration nil. Now to check the heart. Doctor, is he... One moment. No heartbeat.

Yes, I'm afraid so, Mrs. Williams. Your husband is dead. No. No. You must be strong. Here is a letter he instructed me to give you after his death. Letter? It explains about the red telephone. You know how your husband opposed what he considered fuss and feathers. He expressly demanded no ceremonies of any sort and left positive orders he was not to be embalmed.

That means he must be buried within 24 hours. That's the law in this state. Oh, that's so soon. Tomorrow afternoon, he will be laid to rest in a family vault in Rolling Hill Cemetery. Until the mortician comes, I will remain in this room with the body. That is also your husband's order. I see. Also, his wishes are that after the funeral, you will remain either in this room or the adjoining sitting room for three full days.

Not even leaving for meals. I don't understand. Well, it's all explained in his letter. Now, Nurse Evans, please take care of Mrs. Williams. Of course, Doctor. Come with me, Mrs. Williams. You must rest now. It's gone. Howard, it's gone. Now I'm all alone.

Well, here we are back again, Mrs. Williams. You were very brave. I couldn't cry because it didn't seem real. But men put Howard in a box. Put the box on the stone shelf in the mausoleum.

And they put a slab in front of the box...

We all went away and left him there. Now, it was a very nice funeral. Dignified and simple. You understand that I'll be here to look after you for the next three days. I'll be in the room down the hall any time you need me. Yes. Thank you. And no one will bother you. The telephones won't ring because the secretary is taking all calls downstairs. Even the red phone? Yes.

The red phone? He said I must... I must be here to answer it, that I mustn't fail him. Well, I don't know anything about a red telephone, I'm afraid. A letter. The doctor gave me a letter from Howard about it. If I've lost it, Howard will be furious. He'll shout and swear and... He's dead, isn't he? Yes, Mrs. Williams.

Is this the letter here on the bedside table? Oh, yes. I must have put it there yesterday. Well, I'll leave you to read it. Oh, excuse me, Mr. Leedy. It's all right, nurse. I just wanted to speak to Mrs. Williams. Yes, of course. It's Mr. Leedy, your husband's lawyer, Mrs. Williams. Now, be sure to ring if you need me. My dear, you have been very brave. Thank you.

It just doesn't seem real. I understand. And I've been thinking. Why don't you plan a sea voyage, a trip around the world? New sights, new faces to help you forget. No, I don't want to do that. You hear? I won't do it. But I always understood it. You don't understand. Those cruises are full of women traveling all alone trying to find a man and never, never finding one.

Well, I won't be one of those awful women traveling every place all alone. But, my dear... Now go away and leave me alone. Perhaps I haven't explained my idea correctly. I'm sure our Mr. Roberts can do it better. I'll send up Mr. Roberts. No, I just want to be left alone. Howard, why did you have to die? Why? Why?

A letter. I haven't read the letter. You'll be angry at me. I'll read it right away, Howard. Right away. Dear Laura, you must stay in this room or the adjoining sitting room for three full days. That's because if the red telephone rings, you must be there to answer it. Laura, if that red line rings, it will be me calling you.

You calling me? But Howard, I don't understand. Oh, yes, of course, the letter. For generations, Laura...

The men in my family have died suddenly. Those quacks, the doctors can't explain it. It's a family inheritance, that's all. But are you paying attention, Laura? Sometimes we return to life after being to all appearances dead. My goodness. I say sometimes return to life.

Five of my ancestors have done so. Five we know about. One was saved. The others were found with their fingernails ripped off, trying to claw their way out of their coffins. Their bodies were twisted and contorted. Oh, how awful. This must not happen to me. You must not let it happen.

That red telephone, it connects to the family mausoleum. As I am laid to rest, the mortician will plug in a wire connecting the red phone to a microphone in the lining of my coffin.

If I so much as whisper, the red telephone will ring like a fire alarm, and you will answer it. Do you understand, Laura? Yes. Yes, I do understand. Oh, if you hear the phone ring, I will be calling. Answer it once. Then contact Dr. Barlow and the mortician. All three of you will rush to the family vault to rescue me.

So, Laura, stay close to the red phone. It may ring. I may return to you for the last time. Are you sure you understand? Yes, I do. I do. Oh, please come back, Howard. Please. Maybe you're there now trying to speak. Howard? Can you hear me? Howard, are you there? Howard, please speak to me. Please.

He does that, sir. It's too soon. I'll wait. I'll wait. Hello? Mrs. Williams? May I come in? Who is it? Mrs. Williams, I hope you'll forgive me for barging in like this, but Mr. Reedy feels it's important. I'm Lawrence Roberts. Lawrence...

Robert? Yes. You see, I've handled most of Mr. Williams' legal businesses last year. I'm one of the junior partners. You're one of the junior partners of the law firm? That's right. They gave me a partnership as a present for my 40th birthday. I'm the firm's foreign expert. Could we talk, Mrs. Williams, in the next room, perhaps? Well...

I suppose we could. Good, good. I have some papers to show you. Well, I don't really feel like talking about business now, Mr. Roberts. Oh, of course not. I do understand. However, on the other hand, it'll help take your mind off what's happened. Well, if you think so. I do, definitely. Here, shall we sit here? Right. Now, here's the situation. You

You've just inherited a rather large business enterprise, Mrs. Williams. All over the world there are mines, plantations, shipyards that belong to you. There are? There certainly are.

And, uh, Mr. Reedy thought that this would be a perfect time for you to take a long trip. No, I told him I won't. But, Mrs. Williams... I'm not going to be a middle-aged woman all alone with a lot of other middle-aged women on one of those trips. I just won't do it. If I have to be alone, I'll... I'll stay all alone right here. But you won't be alone.

The firm wants you to inspect your various holdings around the world. Naturally, we don't expect you to visit all those places by yourself. I'll be your guide. You'll go with me? All around the world. And you couldn't find a better guide. Why, I spent half my time traveling, and besides, well, I'm the only one the firm can spare. You see, I'm the only bachelor.

You're not married? Nope. Never took the plunge. Too busy traveling, I suppose. Now, this is my plan. First, we go to Rio de Janeiro. We'll get there just at carnival time. Carnival time in Rio.

Masks and costumes, dancing, music. And a lot more. You haven't lived until you've been through carnival time in Rio. Well, from Rio, we'll make a trip by boat up the Amazon. Wonderful. And then on to the Orient. We'll stop off in Tahiti. Tahiti. Of course. And then fly on to Bali-Bali. We'll stay long enough to see the exotic native dances. And then? Then...

Oh, there are dozens more places for us to see. The ruined cities of old Cambodia, picturesque Hong Kong, a trip up Mount Fujiama. I'll make sure you see everything, Mrs. Williams. Oh, you make it sound so exciting. Rio, Tahiti, Bali-Bali, Cambodia, Hong Kong, Mount Fujiama. Mm-hmm.

Uh, excuse me, Mrs. Williams, but, uh... Yes? Well, seems to be a phone ringing in the other room. Oh. Oh, yes, there is. Uh, most unusual sort of ring.

Can't be an ordinary phone. Sounds more like a small fire alarm. Yes, it's very loud. Want me to answer it for you? Oh, no, it's probably just the wrong number. Let's just go downstairs where it won't bother us, and you can finish telling me all about our lovely trip. Fine, fine. Well, first we have to get you a passport, and then your shots. Oh, okay.

Well, you'll have to go with me, but I'll be brave. And I suppose you'll have to get some clothes. Yes. What colors do you like, Mr. Roberts? Call me Larry, won't you, Mrs. Williams? Yes.

Oh, my God.

♪♪ Theater 5 has presented A Very Private Phone Call, written by Robert Arthur and directed by Harry Nelson. In the cast, Joyce Gordon, Ben Yaffe, Gertrude Warner, Hal Burdick, and Ralph Camargo. Audio engineer, Marty Folia. Sound technician, Ed Blaney. ♪♪

Thine soul shall find itself alone Mid dark thoughts of the grey tombstone Not one of all the crowd to pry Into thine hour of secrecy Be silent in that solitude

which is not loneliness, for then the spirits of the dead who stood in life before thee are again in death around thee, and their will shall overshadow thee. Be still. The night, though clear, shall frown, and the stars shall not look down.

From their high thrones in the heaven, With light like hope to mortals given. But their red orbs without beam To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee forever. Now our thoughts thou shalt not banish,

Now are visions there to vanish. From thy spirit shall they pass. No more like dewdrop from the grass. The breeze, the breath of God is still. And the mist upon the hill. Shadowy, shadowy. Yet unbroken is a symbol and a token.

How it hangs upon the trees. A mystery of mysteries. Story of a soldier and a war beyond the moon. A G.I. in the years beyond 2000 plus. 2000 plus. Science fiction adventures from the world of tomorrow. The years beyond 2000 A.D. 2000 plus presents

A veteran comes home.

I-20-P, rocket ship Luna arriving from moon at rocket cradle 4, E-section. Mommy, is that it? Is that the one with Daddy on it? Billy, I told you before, Daddy's spaceship arrived here several hours ago.

The spaceship from Mars has been here since 11 o'clock. Then where is he? Why don't I see my daddy? Because, darling, all the soldiers have to go through quarantine and army regulations and all sorts of things. Boy, my daddy's a space soldier. I'll bet he had all sorts of adventures. I'll bet he had... Attention, please. Quiet, Billy. Let's go.

Listen. All relatives of military personnel of rocket ship Millicent flight 82 from Mars holding blue cards report to gate 5. Oh, Billy, that's us. The soldiers are going to come out in a few minutes. Come on, darling, come on. Will he know me, Mama? Will Dad know me? Will I know him? Watch where you're walking, Billy.

Of course he'll know you, dear. He'll see me first, and then he'll see you. All I ever saw was his picture. Stand by that rope, Billy. We can see Gate 5 from here. Boy, he'll tell me all about the war on Mars. Oh, Billy, it's so good to have him back. Five years. Five long years. Can I see the spaceship later, huh, Mom? Later, maybe? Maybe.

Relatives of military personnel of spaceship Millicent, please do not cross the white lines. They're starting to come out now. Look, that man there in the white uniform, he's an atomic gunner. My picture book tells all about them. Eleven weeks on a spaceship getting to Mars.

Eleven weeks coming back to Earth. And more than four years fighting on Mars. Five years. Billy, stand back. Don't cross the white line. Flight seven, rocket ship crater from Earth to Moon will blast off in eight minutes from rocket cradle nine, west section, clear area, clear.

Here. Here we are. Over there. Look, Mommy. A band. They're going to play music. They're welcoming the soldiers home, Billy. The...

The first soldiers home from the war on Mars. More soldiers are coming out, Mommy. Oh, Billy, I'm so excited. Do you see him yet? Hey, Mom, that's a rocketeer with a green uniform. Oh, boy, he shoots rocket guns. I don't see him. I don't see him yet. So many men, so many. Can I have a drink of water, Mama? I'm thirsty. I don't see him yet.

I still don't see him. I want a drink. Billy, not now. Oh, look. I think that's Daddy. No. No, it's not. Oh, Michael. Michael, where are you? I'm going to show my Daddy my toy gun. We'll play Space Soldier together. We'll have fun. Billy. Billy, I see him. I see your Daddy. Where? Which one is he? Wave to him, Billy. Billy.

He's looking around to see if we're here. In the yellow uniform over there. Michael! Michael, darling, here we are, Michael! He sees us, Mommy! He's running to us! He's pushing the other people away! Oh, he looks so wonderful.

We're tired. Michael! Michael! Mommy, why are you crying? Because he's come home, dear. Michael's come home. Hey, Daddy! Here we are! Yoo-hoo! Hey, Daddy! Here he comes! Oh, Michael! Mary. Mary, darling.

Darling. It's been so long since I've held you. But, Michael, you've got to meet your son. Hello, son. Hello. Is that all you've got to say to your daddy? He doesn't have to say anything.

Just let me look at him. Oh, you've got forever to do that now, darling. Because you're a home. Our soldier has come home.

It's three o'clock in the afternoon, Mom. Why is Daddy asleep? He was tired, Billy. He wanted to rest. He didn't talk much when we came home, did he? No, but he will. You and he will have a lot to talk about. Hey, I think I heard him getting up. We'll open the door carefully and peek in. Now be quiet in case he's still asleep. Shh. Shh.

It's all right. I'm awake. Oh, well, you've slept two hours. I haven't been asleep. I'm just lying here. Is something wrong, Michael? Do you feel all right? Oh, sure, sure.

Just can't get used to being home. I'll make a snack for you. Billy, now you can talk to your father. Come here, son. Sit on the bed. Okay, Dad. I'll call you when everything's ready. What do you want to tell me, Billy? I don't know. But your mother said... Do you like me? Of course I like you. Will you play with me?

Well, I'm a little tired, son, but I guess it can be arranged. What do you want to play? Soldiers. Space soldiers. You're a soldier and all of you... Play something else. You don't like me. Just play something else, that's all. All the kids think it's swell my dad's a space soldier. Nobody else in my gang has a dad who's gone to Mars. I told him when my dad came home, he showed me how to play real soldier and we have... Stop talking about it. Yes, sir. Don't say yes, sir, to me. I don't ever want to hear you say that.

Stop crying. Men aren't supposed to cry. Space. For 200 years, the world hasn't had a war. For 200 years, the human race finally got peace. Federated world in the years after 2000. Science flourishes. Civilization grows. Then we learn how to travel in outer space. First the moon for scientific observations. Then we go on to other planets. Mars.

The one planet we know is capable of sustaining human life. And all the 200 years of peace gets rotted away. Because the Earth wants to explore Mars and the Martians object. New worlds to conquer where the Columbus is of 2,000 plus. And the interplanetary war begins. And we have to fight for every canal, every inch on Mars. Well, I don't want any son of mine thinking it's so great.

I hate it. Hate it. I was going to play space soldier with you. Space soldier. What do they do? Full of the romance of Mars? The mysteries of the unknown? How can you or anybody on this particular world know what it's like in that unhuman place called Mars? Play space soldier. Play. I remember the patrol. Patrol into the red grass.

Blades sharp as swords and covered with that sickening ooze of the Martian vegetation. We went on patrol, 14 of us. I was the patrol leader. All right, let's stop a minute.

Halt! Halt! Halt! You see anything? Just the red grass. Wait. About a mile and a half over there. A sand belt. Give me your glasses. Yeah, that's right. Whenever the grass meets the sand belt, we've got to be careful. Those sand spiders. More dangerous than a cobra. One bite and you're dead in half a minute. Men are all wearing shin boots. We'd better put on our mask and gloves, too. Sometimes a spider crawls up the clothing. Okay.

Masks and gloves, protective gear. Protective gear? Oh, no. It's too quiet. I've always got the feeling the Martians are around when it's this quiet. Yeah, I know what you mean. We'll go on now. Leo, you take four men and cover the left. Use electric rifles. Yes, sir. Admiral Roney, take four men and cover the right. Torpedo pistols. Yes, sir. Ted and I will take the other men and move straight on. Ted, we'll use atomic shell clips in our guns. We've

If we meet opposition and have to blast them, Leo's and Mulroney's groups can cover us as we move around the area we've radiated. Better keep our belt Geiger counters handy. Okay, Captain. Let's move. This slime from the grass sticks to everything. Careful. Careful of those sharp rocks.

There certainly aren't any Martians on that sand belt or we'd see them. If they're around here at all, they're between us and the sand belt, hiding in this red grass. Look out, huh? Jump away. Don't want to step on it. Good Lord, I didn't see it. A tooth flower. Those flowers are hard as ivory. It's a carnivorous plant. If you walk too close to it, it'll bite your leg in half. Mars.

The nightmare planet. And we'll keep moving. And keep your eyes peeled for killer vegetation and enemy Martians. It's getting hot. Always get like a novel about this time of day. Leo's group is moving ahead.

Apparently they've found nothing dangerous yet. Hello! Hello! Why are you waving? Everything's okay. Don't be too sure. Look over there. Sandstorm. Flipping across the sand belt. They come up in seconds, blast by at hundreds of miles an hour. Everybody down! Hit the tracks! Keep your hands up! Who's all over us?

Those grass blades like an Indian pick are lying down on a bed of knives. Hug the dirt. Here comes the sandstorm. 200 miles an hour. I can't hear you. Sand. Like moose. Can't see. Air is filling the red dust.

It's going down. The storm's going down. Wait a few seconds. All right. Let's get up.

Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Twelve. Two men missing. Here comes Leo. Captain, two men, Davis and Martin. What happened? They're dead, sir. The wind tore Davis' jacket. A sand spider bit him. The wind carried a swarm of them into the grass. What about Martin? Don't know what caused it, but he's dead, all right. Come on. Let's take a look. Come on.

There he is, sir. His skin is natural, not blue the way it turned when a sand spider killed you. Let me see. Good Lord. What's the matter? The Martians. Martians? They got him during the sandstorm. He must be around somewhere. Look at his back where I opened the jacket. Hit by a sonic beam. Right. That super sound wave gadget of theirs turns your guts to jelly. The Martians are here, all right. Now warn the men. Right on.

Give me your pocket magnet speaker, quick. Here you are, sir. Right. Leo, crawl in your belly over to the boys. Keep low. Okay. Let me know when you get there. Meanwhile, I'll talk on the magnet speaker. Yes, sir. Martians will hear me. So here's some lingo they won't understand. Now, get this. We have company for tea. Be trigger happy and remember the Alamo.

Is Leo there yet? Can't see him. Wait. He's coming on the UHF talkie. Snap on your earphones. Okay, Leo. No sign of the enemy. We're fanning out. We're covered by the red grass. We pass word, shoot first. Good. That's an electric rifle. Enemy sighted. The jelly got one. They're east 200 yards. Let's move in. Give them everything. Yes, sir.

Come on, Ted. Right with you. They're trying to crawl through this grass. Torpedo pistols. Our own age group has made contact. Leo. Leo. Yeah? Whoever reaches 100 yards, throw atomic grenades. Right. The Martians haven't returned any fire yet. They're probably waiting to get closer.

Then they'll fan the area with that sonic beam of theirs. Shed love's at 100 yards. He's throwing the cookies any second. Plug your ears. Check. That should have cleaned him out. We've got to be careful. We can't go in to see. We don't have any anti-radiation gear. No sound from the Martians. Nothing. Leo. Leo, any report from you? I think we got him. Absolutely no sign of life. Move south a few hundred yards. Then east.

Probe their positions. Right. Captain, I'm pretty sure it's all clear. Yeah, you're probably right. I just feel conservative right now. I'll be glad when they verify the Martians are cleaned out. This heat, this stinking grass...

What a planet. Well, at least the moon is dead. Why weren't we satisfied when we got to the moon? No, we had to go on to this forsaken... Listen. The sonic beam. The Martians are attacking. They must have had a group to the south. They're shattering them down. Look over there. We can't help them. Just hug the dirt. Look at all those men. Don't you think I know that? What are two of us against a Martian patrol? Try to reach Leo. Leo. Leo. Come in, Leo. Leo.

No response. I've got to get over here. You're staying here. You've got to stay here and try to get out later. But Leo... Leo's my brother. My brother. Well, here's your snack, darling. I hope you like...

Where's Billy? I thought he was in here with you. He went up. To play? I don't know. Oh, he has been so looking forward to having his daddy back. All the kids in the neighborhood are waiting to meet you. He's been boasting about you for months, ever since we got word that you were coming home. Yeah, I know. Michael, is something wrong? Did you and Billy have a quarrel? He's a stranger to me, Mary. A stranger? Yes.

You're wrong, son. He was just a baby when I left. I can't get used to him. Oh, but you will. You can't help loving him. I can't get to know him until he stops this terrible business of reminding me all the time. Reminding me of what I want to forget. But he's proud of you, of what you've done, of what you... You know, I told him what it was really like up there. He ran out of here crying. Michael! What do you want me to do, throw out my chest and brag about being a hero? Michael!

Pretend that a planet called Mars that Satan himself with the aid of a few million devils must have created. Pretend that Mars is heaven. That fighting a war so far away it takes months to get there is fun for the kiddies. I'm sorry, Mary. Just leave me alone. Michael, this isn't like you. How do you know what I'm like after all these years? I hardly know myself at this moment. Five years away from people.

Away even from the one world in the universe that contains human beings. But there were other men with you all the time. Hundreds, thousands of them. What do you mean you were alone? You don't understand. Michael, darling, I'm worried about you. A spaceship, half a mile long. Eleven weeks in flight, confined quarters. The same blank faces of men torn from their planet, catapulted into infinity. A fleck of controlled cosmic dust.

Being alone and on Mars, the base dug underground, living in plastic shells with barracks, never being able to move except in patrols. All of us men in a nightmare and being alone in our souls alone. Give me some coffee. All right, Michael. Here you are. Thanks.

Michael, you're home now. And you're not alone anymore. This is good coffee.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon and evening, that is. Yes? I'm giving a party for you. At first I was going to have it a surprise for you, but I think you should know. I don't want a party. We've our families here and all your old friends. They want to see you, Michael. Everyone's so happy you're home. Call it off. I don't want to see them. Can't you understand? I don't want to see them.

They're smug hellos. They're glad you're back, Cheddar. They're what's it like in another world and how's Mars, old man questions. They wouldn't understand the answers if I could somehow force myself to talk about it. But it won't be like that. They love you. They're happy that you're back. For the last time, no. Darling, you can't go on like this. Fighting the Martians in your memories and fighting the human beings who love you.

For your sake, Michael, I am not going to call off the party. Everyone is coming just as I planned. And you've got to meet them and see for yourself. You've got to understand for yourself that you're home again on Earth. And that you have a life to live once more. Do you mean that, Mary? I do, Michael, darling, I do. Because I love you. Well, I'm really a stranger in this house. Not really the head of it. Still alone.

A barracks filled with chintz curbs. ...of honor. Fluffy. All right, Mary. Have your party. Without the guest of honor. Michael! Michael! It's good to get out of the house.

Walk or walk forever. Sun shining. Beautiful and peaceful. Trees. Tall trees. Green and yellow leaves. No red grass. No red grass anywhere. The birds. The wonderful sounds they make. Five years. Never saw, never heard a bird.

The only creatures that ever made a sound up there were the Martian Contollis. Fat, greasy lizards that screamed like tortured souls. Look. Look at those flowers. Blue, green, red-orange, clean white. It's a sweet, glorious smell. Peaceful. So peaceful in which to be alone. The grass, the...

The grass was short, soft carpet like blades. A carpet of green, cool and gentle. I just sit on the grass. Lie on the grass and rest. Rest and think. Think. Think. I remember when Ted and I got back to command post. The Martian sky was dark. Clouds up there never looked like these clouds. We hadn't spoken to each other for a long while.

How we got away alive from the ambush, I'll never know. And now we were coming to the base under Commander. And that's the full report, Captain? Yes, Commander. That's right, sir. The fourth successful ambush by the Martians in as many days. We're going to have to do something drastic to stop it.

Air observation doesn't help. Endless miles of grass and sand. The Martians are small. Hide in the stuff. Take on its coloring like chameleons. If it weren't for their sonic beam, those killing sound waves, we could probably handle them. I know, I know. Can't the Earth Science Council work out a defense, sir? Yes, they're trying to. But even if they do, till we get it up here, we'll all be decimated. I'm thinking of an old weapon. Poison gas. That's an outlawed weapon, isn't it, Commander? Outlawed on Earth? Yes. But we're not fighting on Earth, Capt. S.

Sometimes I wish they'd never invented spaceships.

Well, let's not worry about it now. You may need some rest. Report to the hospital barracks. Take five days there. Yes, sir. Oh, one more thing. Lieutenant, the 12 men in the patrol were lost. One was your brother. Am I right? Yes, sir. I'm sorry. Thank you, sir. Now get to the barracks and get some rest. We've got a lot to do in five days. That's all, gentlemen. Okay.

The commander is sorry. Now get to the barracks. Don't take it so hard, Ted. Why shouldn't I? It isn't just because Leo was my brother, but because he was someone special. Up here on this rotten apple called Mars, we're all people out of touch with the decent things of our world. Now look, kid. Every man who lives here, lives up here, he's in his own vacuum. Can't believe what's happened to him.

Finding himself in a place where things that are unreal to the human mind are everyday realities. But I had something. I had the one thing that made me a human being up here. I had someone who loved me and whom I loved. And now he's dead. And I've got no one. I'm like everyone else up here now.

I've got no one. Mary? Mary?

Mary! Mary! Mommy isn't here. Where is she, Billy? She was crying. She went next door to the neighbors. Why'd you make my mommy cry? You're not nice. I don't like you. I'm... I'm sorry, son. I guess I haven't been very nice at that. Come here, Billy. Come here.

Son, I brought back a lot of bitterness from the other side of the universe. But a little while ago, I thought back to what another man told me on Mars. And I realized something that I didn't understand at the time. I'll be all right from now on, Billy.

You and I are going to be real friends, real pals. Can we... Can we play soldier? How would you like to play baseball or build model jet planes together? Or go on a hike in the woods? Gee, that'd be swell. I'd like that. You didn't care what you did with your dad just so you did something with him, huh? Mm-hmm. And all you could think of was soldier because that's what I did. Just proves how right Ted was. To be together...

And to love someone, that's what makes us human beings. Michael! Hello, Mary. Daddy and I are going to play baseball and have a hike and everything. Oh, Michael. Michael. It's all right now, darling. It's all right. You're soldiers. Come home. Michael!

Next week, another exciting and unusual story from the world of tomorrow, from the years beyond 2000 A.D. Be sure to listen. 2000 Plus is produced by Dreyer and Winolson Productions, Incorporated. In today's cast, Bill Griffiths portrayed Mike, Joan Shea was Mary, Alan Shea was Billy, Charles Smith was Ted, and Lon Clark was the commander.

The orchestra was conducted by Emerson Buckley, music composed by Elliot Jacoby, sound, Walt Shaver and Adrian Penner, engineer, Bob Albright. This is Ken Marvin speaking. ♪♪ From Hollywood. ♪♪ Barry Sullivan in... ♪♪

The Unexpected. The Unexpected. The Unexpected. Life is filled with the unexpected. Happy, romantic, tragic, and mysterious endings to our most ordinary actions. Dreams come true or dreams are shattered by sudden twists of fate in The Unexpected. Who knows what drama may happen tomorrow or an hour from now or in just a moment.

Who knows what destiny has in store for the lady down the street, the fellow at the next desk, or you, yourself. Who knows? Listen for just a moment for The Unexpected. The Unexpected

And now, Mr. Barry Sullivan, outstanding motion picture and stage star in a drama of the unexpected, titled Mercy Killing. Mercy Killing

My name is Arnold Stanton. I'm a salesman, a successful one. I live in a little frame house on a shady street out in the suburbs. I've been married for 12 years. All our friends say that Evelyn and I are an ideal couple, devoted to each other. But a few minutes ago, as I came through the front door, I decided to murder my wife.

Is that you, Arnold? You're a little late tonight, aren't you? Did you miss the bus? You're usually here by six, and it's five after. Oh, you look tired, darling. I think you've been working too hard lately. You really need a rest, or you'll be ill one of these days. And I don't know what I'd do if anything should happen to you. But we won't ever talk about that, will we, dear? Now, you just sit down here and rest. That's what you need, rest. Yes, I need a rest. A rest from Evelyn. Sometimes I hate her. Sometimes I'd like to take a throat in my hands and...

It's always, darling, what did you do today? And, Arnold, what shall we have for dinner? Why, she can't even get her hair fixed without asking me first. I can't stand it. From morning till night, day after day, she hasn't a thought of her own. She's not a real person. No, she's nothing but a parasite feeding on mice. If I could leave her. Why, if I mention the word divorce, she'd have hysterics for a week. I couldn't break her heart like that. Leaving Evelyn would be worse than killing her. Killing her.

It should be a simple crime. An accident, that's it. It's got to look accidental. A fall, that's logical enough. A fall on the stairs. No, no, in the bathtub and then... But not tonight. Tomorrow morning. Everyone knows she sleeps late. I'll ask her to get up early. No one will suspect. And then the first thing tomorrow morning. Evelyn, are you awake, Evelyn? She's gone. Is she downstairs already? Am I too late? Is that you, darling?

up early like you asked me to. I'm all ready for the tub and I'll have breakfast ready before you get dressed. Don't hurry. There's plenty of time. Now, I don't want you to be late because of me. I wouldn't want people to say that I wasn't a dependable wife. Arnold, don't touch me. The tub is slippery and I might fall. Arnold, you're pushing me. Don't! Arnold! 11.45.

Everything seems very normal. The office, Miss Roberts, very normal. And Evelyn is dead and I'm safe. They can't have found her yet. They'll call me as soon as they do. Shouldn't be much longer. I wonder who will find the body. Probably it'll be that Mrs. Bronson down the street. Yes, Mrs. Bronson. She's the likeliest. No, no, she wouldn't. She wouldn't. She wouldn't call the police. She doesn't know anything is wrong. She'd think Evelyn was out shopping or something.

Then, tonight, when I come home, I'd have to find her. Oh, no, I don't want that. I don't want to go back into that bathroom. But I won't have to. I'll get a call any moment now. Anyway, by the time I'm back from lunch, everything will be all right then. Did you have a nice lunch, Mr. Stanton? Oh, you know how restaurants are these days. Any messages while I was out? No, sir, not a thing. Nothing at all? No. Were you expecting something in particular? No. No, just wanted...

Well, I'll be in my office if you should need me. They would have called if they'd found her. I'd be notified right away unless... Unless something went wrong. Come in.

I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Stanton. I forgot to tell you when you just asked. Yes? There was a message for you. I don't know how I could have overlooked it. It was right on my pad. What was it, Miss Roberts? Oh, nothing urgent or anything like that. What was the message? It was from your wife. She's playing bridge and may be late getting home this evening. She didn't want you to worry about her. I... Is something wrong? I'm sorry, I forgot. No, no, nothing at all. Thank you, Miss Roberts. I won't let it happen again. Thank you.

Can't be true. She's not alive. That was blood in the water. Her blood, I saw it die. She's not alive. Miss Roberts must have made a mistake. Yes, that's it, a mistake. She did forget the message at first. It must have come in before, yesterday, or last week. Miss Roberts was looking at the wrong page in her book. Of course, that's it, just a mistake, a perfectly natural mistake. I shouldn't let a little thing like that upset me. I think I'll rest for a minute. I feel a little tired. I guess that's natural. I'll just relax for a moment. ♪♪

It's after five, Mr. Stanton. I'll be going now if there's nothing more. No, I have to hurry along myself. I don't want to be late. Evelyn will be waiting for me. Oh, no. Don't you remember? She's playing bridge. Oh. Oh, yes, yes. Of course. I forgot. Well, good night, Mr. Stanton. So it wasn't a mistake. Now, Miss Roberts doesn't make mistakes. And I have to go home. Home to Evelyn. Evelyn. Evelyn, are you there? Evelyn. Evelyn.

Evelyn! I've got to open the bathroom door. There's nothing to be afraid of. There's no one in there, no one alive, just Evelyn. I've got to go in there. I'm not afraid of Evelyn. She's dead. I know she's dead. What if she's alive? What'll she say? What'll she do? Well, maybe... Maybe the police are waiting for me in there. Waiting to see how I'll act. Oh, no, I can't go in. Not yet. Not until I know. If Evelyn is playing bridge. If she really is alive. She's at Mrs. Bronson's. I can find out. Hello? Hello?

Hello, is that you, Mrs. Bronson? Yes. Who is this, please? Arnold. Arnold Stanton. Why, hello, Mr. Stanton. How are you? I don't like to bother you, Mrs. Bronson, but there was a message for me this afternoon. Something about Evelyn. Bridge, I think. She isn't there with you, is she? Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, she is. Would you like to speak to her? Yes, I would. Well, just hold on. Evelyn. Just a minute, Mr. Stanton. Are you still there, Evelyn? Yes, I am.

Hello? Evelyn. Evelyn. Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Stanton. Evelyn isn't here after all. She must have left while I was talking to you. She's probably on her way home now. She ought to be there any minute. Mr. Stanton, did you hear me? Mr. Stanton. Evelyn, at last I know. The door is open and I know. There's Evelyn just as I left her. She's dead. Really dead. But Mrs. Bronson told me... They know. They must know. They're trying to trap me.

The police must be outside right now waiting to see what I do next. They'll probably come in any minute to arrest me. But they won't get the chance. It's your gun, Evelyn. I gave it to you because you were afraid. Afraid of being alone in the house, but you never needed it. Now I'm afraid, Evelyn. I need the revolver. They found me out. Somehow, somewhere I slipped. I wish I knew what it was, but there isn't time. Now I'll never know. Pick up the gun. Put it next to my cheek. It's cold against my face.

Now, squeeze the trigger. You think the story is over, don't you? But wait. Fate takes a hand. Wait for the unexpected. The Unexpected

And now for the surprising conclusion of Mercy Killing, starring Barry Sullivan, written by Robert Libet and Frank Burt, and produced and directed by Frank K. Danzig. And Evelyn and Arnold were so happy. Too bad.

But it's all over now. Well, not quite over. Just a few words more. A short comment from Mrs. Bronson. You remember the bridge-playing matron down the street? She's talking to Inspector Cook from Homicide. Yes, Inspector. In a way, I feel sort of responsible. You see, Evelyn was such a dear friend, and there was this other person. Really, he was a charming young man, and Evelyn had been seeing him.

I told her she was very wrong, but you know how it is, so I sort of covered for her, as they say. As a matter of fact, I called Mr. Stanton's office this afternoon and pretended I was Evelyn. You see, she had asked me to because today was to be something special, and she was afraid she'd be late. And then later he telephoned me to check up on her. I had to say she was with me, and when he wanted to talk to her, I pretended she'd just left. Just imagine. I told him Evelyn was on the way home.

And then he went upstairs and found her. Like that. Oh, it must have been horrible. I don't know what he thought, but he must have been overcome. People don't kill themselves unless they are. But anyway, he never found out about the young man. It makes sort of a perfect ending. Poor Mr. Stanton. He loved her so.

Mercy Killing, starring Barry Sullivan, was transcribed in Hollywood. Listen for another exciting story starring lovely Marsha Hunt, who meets the unexpected. This is a Hamilton Whitney radio production, presented under the supervision of Alvin C. Gershenson. KMA 907, Sacramento Police.

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

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

The cases you hear on this radio program are real cases. The police are real. The victims and the criminals are real. We are glad to provide Unit 99 and Sergeant Meredith so that you will hear how the police of a great city work night and day for your protection. Make no mistake about it. There are no actors on these tapes. They are real from beginning to end. Now to Unit 99 and Sergeant Dan Meredith on duty. Unit 57.

940, Unit 22, regarding a 415 near Carl's Drive-In at Sacramento Boulevard and Broadway. Check 57. One of the motorcycle officers are having a little trouble at the drive-in, 39th and Broadway, disturbance. Finally have a unit dispatched to them. We're only a few blocks away. Let's cover in and help out, too. We're at the drive-in. I think we're the first ones to come.

There's a young fella. Looks like he's pretty well beaten up. Bloody. Let's get out and see what it's all about. What happened here? I don't know. Some guy called me and I turned around and I got it. These boys here with you...

My car's sitting up there. No, my car's sitting up there, and the kid that was with me is up there. And you don't know who hit you? No, I don't. Looks like it happened. I want to find out. Yeah, it happened right here. Blood all over the place here, and you don't know who struck you? No, I don't. You can't identify the person? Somebody hit me in the eye, and I couldn't see anything, and then they kept on hitting me. That's all I know.

I'll tell you how I am. I was asking about a girl named Bobby and there was a Oldsmobile sitting here I know and I was parked here and I walked up there and he asked me what I was looking for her for and I said I wanted to see him and he said, well, he said, she's my girl. And I said, what's wrong? And he said, well, you're in my way and I want you to move. And I said, well, I asked him, I said, do you own the place? I said, I was just here and I was asking this guy here about Bobby. And I said, I'm going.

So that's all I know. Some guy said, hey, and turned around and hit me in the eye and I couldn't see nothing. And then kept on pounding me and knocked me down behind the car. Just one fellow or several? I don't know. There was the one guy, I know there was one guy that took a poke at me first and then I heard some guys talking or I don't know. I told them give me a fair chance and all I know is they kept me on the ground and kept hitting me. You say they. Do you know who it was? I don't know. There was one guy and I want a fair chance at him.

There was another guy he kept saying this my beef and did they hit you with their fists I don't know what they were using. How about getting this boy down at the hospital and have him checked out? Yeah, he's gonna need some stitches in that eye. Wanna go to your own doctor? It's alright. I've got a doctor. Do you want to go to the emergency hospital and have that eye treated? It won't cost you a thing. Well, it's a little better.

It would be. I had my nose broken before in a car accident. Now, do you want to file charges against these fellows that hit you? No, I just want a fair chance. You get yourself more involved by taking it in your own hands. I just want a fair chance. You see what gets you by getting a fair chance. Well, they didn't give me a fair chance. Maybe the next time they won't give you a fair chance either.

Well, if they don't, then they're sick. We take what you don't want to prosecute, is that right? No, I don't. I mean, next time maybe I'll have a fair chance. That's the way I look at it. Taking the law into your own hands is an open invitation for trouble. This young man was wrong in his refusal to prosecute. He was given treatment at the police emergency hospital and sent on his way. Unit 56. Oh.

940 regarding a possible 502 and 12th and K came code to check 56 came a 907 so hurry up call the 12th and K we're 12th and 13th and the officer up here beat man he looks like he has somebody let's get out and see if we can be of any assistance

You got troubles here, Dan? Yeah, a little bit. Just a possible 502. Here comes the traffic unit, McAdams and Bender. This fella here was driving this car here, Walt, and he pulled up to this here stop sign down here. The light was red for him. And when he pulled up, the traffic was coming through east to west on K Street.

And he backed up about 20, 30 feet. Then when the light changed in his favor, he didn't have any lights on at all. And when the light changed in his favor, he just dug out and spun clear around into the bus zone and pulled the hook. You can probably see all the skid marks down there where he burned on through. And then they, Teddy's limousine.

paced them over here and blocked their path off when I hollered at them. Okay. These four boys in the car with them. I don't know. They've probably been drinking a little bit, too. There might be something in the car. I pulled the keys out of the car, so I pulled them here. So you can get a unit here. You got the keys, Dan? Yeah, right here. What are you going to do, Mac? You going to take them in for check? Do you want to take these other four in or what? No, we'll just give this guy a sidewalk check right here and...

see what he can do, if he can complete it fine, then we'll just tag him. - Give you a parking. - Get him going. - Where were you parked at just prior to your... - Sir, I was parked... - How long had you been running without your lights on? - Well, we was up at Stan's Drive-In. We had them turned off there. We were supposed to meet one of my friends' girlfriends down there, and then came out of there and I thought we had lights on.

As far as the headlights was concerned, I didn't think much about it. As far as burning out, I don't think I did. Of course, I mean, that's between you and the police department. There's not much I can do about that. A lot of car there was sacrificed for fuel drinks. I know that.

I don't think that I was out of shape as far as the burnout was concerned, but the lights were out when I got here and the officers stopped me. And we got out and I'll admit the lights were out. Just quietly while we're standing here, there's a crowd. Will you stand on one leg? Just not obviously doing it, just quietly stand on one leg. Can you? Have you been drinking? Yes, sir. How much have you had? Three or four beers.

we all graduated from college again a little deal here of closing your eyes just we'll just stand here and just close your eyes and stand on my one foot no just stand on both feet just close my eyes put your feet together though i just classified hvd when she was any yeah he looks like he's going through it pretty good well i am i'll tell you the truth officers don't drink as a rule but

I've been going to school for four years. Which now you can see what... I'm way out of shape, I'll admit it. That's right. Now that it's all over and down with the cars here and them fellas are there and it's all over with, I'm wrong. I'll admit it. I'll definitely admit it. We'll just go to Citation 618 B.C. and...

No lights and had been drinking, Dan. Okay. This young man escaped with a citation for driving without lights with a notation that he had been drinking. It was the officer's judgment that graduation exuberance was as much to blame for his conduct at the wheel as was liquor. Unit 242. 940, Unit 2 at 23rd and Nora. QMA 907. Unit 2 just put in a 940.

They call for Unit 242, which is a juvenile officer. 2300 block on N Nellie. Let's take it in and see what it's about. Both the units are here. Juvenile and squad. Evidently inside. Let's get out. Yeah, the officers are already inside.

All right, come in. Hello, Stock Hill. Sergeant. What seems to be the trouble here? Well, this is the same old story. We've been out to this particular location on numerous occasions. We've been out at parties and things of that nature. I know personally I've warned this woman three times to desist, but she keeps on. It's not the first time we were talking to the neighbor just now.

Oh, I know him.

kids been for salt and battery we've had this boy here too on uh... franklin bulls stolen car here too when did we get you last what was it for uh... no we had you one night

Oh, you mean in town? Right here in town, yes. Two weeks ago, if I might interrupt, there was a group of fellows in front of his house and they attacked and assaulted two boys that were passing by. Two boys coming home from... Don't give me that smirk, son. They admit they were in front of your home. Right after that, subsequently, one of the boys went out and stole a car. That was a high-speed chase that the sheriff's office had.

one boy abandoned his car, lost his shoes and tried to steal another car out of 54th and H and assaulted a man that came out to see what the boy was doing in the car. What did we have you for when I talked with you? I think it was burglary. Burglary, that's right. That's about a year, year and a half ago. I joined the Navy. You joined the Navy. Weren't you in narcotics too? Marijuana? Never.

This is a fine group of teenagers in this one place here. Very reputable. She's been told this is the third time I've been in this place, Dan. You doing anything here?

No, this particular time you're not doing anything, but the neighbors claim for the last week there's been a continuous strain of kids in here. For the last week, son. When you guys come and told everybody not to be around here, we never did come up until he got out and we come over here to visit him. Got out of where? Well, he just got out of juvenile. He just got out. We just come over here to visit him. Weren't you picked up two times in Stockton for stolen cars? Once.

Stealing cars in Sacramento and picked up in Stockton. Does he live here? No, he lives down the street. He's been staying here. He's her brother's wife. He lives down 26th. What have you guys been doing tonight? Just talking. Where did you come from before you came over here? My house. How old are you? I'm 16. How old are you, son? 16. 16? 15. You? 18. 18? 16. And you're the lady of the house here? Yes.

She's a little bit on relief up there. Where's your husband now? In service. Her husband's in service. We've had numerous calls here. Disturbing the peace, breaking the windows. Her brother-in-law, he used to come over here and raise a cane, knocked out a couple windows. He's out, isn't he? No, he's in for a vagrancy now. Oh, they've bagged him. They've bagged him. He's still in time in the county jail now. I see that wall over there is kind of kicked out, too. Wow.

Well, I was over here one time and there was a known narcotics addict outside. We ran him off. And, of course, he didn't know. I'm just passing by. What a grand group. Stodgill, before you go and while we're outside here, what was your final on this case?

Well, Dan, this is just adding to the accumulation we've had at this particular address. Naturally, we have all the names of the parties involved. As far as I'm concerned, this lady's been warned for the last time, and I'm taking it up with Captain Gesner to see if some punitive action can't be taken. Certainly, we've had too many complaints, and in this particular case, there has been no violation of the law. The neighbors are acting a little prematurely, probably to forestall any reoccurrence of the trouble they've had in the past.

However, they were in violation of the curfew. Of course, we take that into effect, and I'm taking two of these boys home right now. Here's evidence of the contention that about 10% of our juveniles account for about 90% of our juvenile offenses. As the officer remarked, it was a grand group, all with records. The juvenile division is doing its utmost to break up this and similar gangs. Unit 910 at 4th Avenue, 2. OK-5, K-9-7.

Unit 5 got the call, but we're not too far away. We better cover in. Maybe we can get there first. Here we are. Lights out. You run around the other side. I'll take the other. Let's go fast. There's another gate to the front. Let's go through here. The officers are on the other side. I believe somebody's in front of the house. Look out.

Hello. Did you see them at all? No, I didn't. Come here, can we go back in the alley? We went through there. Could you identify this person if you saw him? I'm not sure. See...

There's a girl that's been around here, and she wants this boy awful bad. She likes him an awful lot. They tried to... Your mother wanted him to marry her up at Reno, you know? And she's been trying to come around here. And I saw her here. Just a minute now. Was it a male or a female? It's a female. Honest, I swear on the stack of bios. It was a girl probably. Yeah, she was out here down at 21st Street.

and when i wrote down the shadows to get a milkshake i saw her and i didn't know whether to say hi or not then i came back here when i wrote in here she was walking back there when she saw me and then she kept looking around for this boy and this boy that lives with us

And so she was looking back there, and then she went to some place and phoned to find out if he was here. And I just went to bed about five minutes ago, and I heard this tapping on the back window. And pretty soon the window opened. And somebody going, psst, psst, like that. Hey, hey, psst, psst. You think it was a girl then? I know it was. Did you see her at the window? No, I didn't see her, but I know she was around here.

She's the only person to do it. I mean nobody nobody don't fit it and then start saying you say you think she went down the Alley honest I say hey, what do you want here? And how old is she about? Oh, I approximately 20 She had black or she had a dark dress with duster light overcoat and dark shoes and

How big was she? How tall? She's about my height or about that much over. About that much. I see. And she was walking? Yeah. Well, listen, we'll take a run around the block more to see if we can spot anything. Yeah, we'll check the area. If you see anything, too, let us know, will you? I've got a boy in the car here that was coming down the street, but he's not involved, so I won't. Okay. Come on.

I always searched the neighborhood here for quite some time. I just heard Unit 5 go back into service, so I guess they didn't find anything either. Let's go 909. Apparently the only larceny in the heart of this feminine prowler was aimed at the affections of the young man of the house. The offense of going psst at a window doesn't sound too serious. Nevertheless, the units made a search of the neighborhood without success. Unit 2.

Investigate a man in a tree near 420, number 20 Street 2. Check. KMA 907. Unit 2 just got an unusual call. It's about 1 o'clock in the morning. A man in a tree, 400 block on 20th Street. Not too far away. Let's check it out and see actually what it is. The unit's up ahead here. Some lady coming up here. The two fellows back here are probably the ones that they want to talk with.

The officers are coming out. Hey, you been up in the tree? Well, the next door neighbor told me I could go into his tree. Up in his tree? Yeah, I wasn't trespassing or nothing like that. I wasn't trespassing or anything. I haven't been with him for two years and he bothers me. You told me you weren't going to call the police. I told you. I went. They're looking for you. I told you not to leave me alone. What did you do last night? What did you do to me?

What does he do to you? Well, he don't help me. He don't support my little girl. I don't hurt her or harm her in no way. You told me you weren't going to. Well, what are you doing over there up in the tree? Well, I was looking to see if he had another boyfriend over there. Now, me and him were talking over, we were talking real nice. We weren't fighting or anything else. Are you two divorced? No, we're not. No, we're not.

Were you in the house?

No, I wasn't in the house at all. No. I was in the next neighbor's yard here. The next neighbor here told me that I could... That you could climb the tree? When did he tell you that? Huh? When did he tell you that? Earlier this evening. He gave me a ladder so I could get up there. I could show you a ladder right now. He aided you to climb the tree and spy on your wife. Is that the proposition? Well, the deal is this. This man here...

Brought his kid over for my wife to take care of. And I didn't know it, and I thought there was a boyfriend. That was all. That was all there was to it. There was no trouble. Why didn't you go to the front door instead of climbing the tree? Yeah, there is. There's a glorious officer that said, this man is jealous because I come over here to see my baby. Yeah, well, I didn't know that. Oh, yes, you did. And I explained to him...

I said, "You quit that." And I said, "Probably your wife will go back to you." And we were talking together. And I said, "As long as you're on that," I said, "She'll never go back to you." I says, "Why don't you get her a job and prove to her different?" He says, "Well, me and her, who's on the front porch?" Look, Oscar, I live on the next walk up there. I was just buying on my wife from here. Why?

You can't see her from here. What would you do if you loved a woman? Well, after two years, you ought to give up. You should have made your bid one way or the other, it seemed to me like.

Man, there was no trouble. What do you do with your spine? I have no weapons, no nothing. There's no trouble here, man. I haven't been trying to hurt her or nobody else. You're not her boyfriend. No, but I thought you were the first wife. Isn't that right? We're happily married. Yes. And haven't we been talking to each other out here? We were talking to each other when the police come up.

Let's get this thing settled here. Man, I'm not trying to hurt nobody or nothing else. Do you want to go stand over there? Yes, I will. Cooper, what are you and Hennessy going to do here? Well, I think we'll take the gentleman there. He's had quite a bit to drink. I think we'll take him down and book him drunk. This is another case in which alcohol apparently made the heartbeat fonder.

This man was held overnight and released. This is Unit 99 in Sacramento, California. These on-the-scene tape recordings were provided by the Sacramento Police Department and were made on duty by Sergeant Dan Meredith in Unit 99. Your host is Chief James V. Hicks of the Sacramento Police Department. Unit 99 was directed by Tony Kester and came to you from Sacramento. Unit 99 to KMA 907.

Unit 99, 908 coming in. End of tour. Unsolved mysteries. The Borden case is undoubtedly without parallel in the criminal annals of America.

It is perhaps the most puzzling murder which has occurred anywhere in the whole world. The perpetrator of this double murder was saved from the gallows by a most extraordinary chain of circumstances. Circumstances which perhaps would not recur in a thousand years. The End

♪ ♪

The Borden place in Fall River, Massachusetts was a house of silences. A house of moody brooding silences brought about by pent-up hatreds, petty jealousies, niggardly dealings in money matters, and two daughters who hated their stepmother. A stepmother who hated with equal intensity her two stepdaughters.

Even from the outside, the Borden house where it stood on South Main Street had about it an air of ineffable doom. The atmosphere of a place accursed. It is exactly 30 seconds before 11 o'clock on the morning of August the 4th. Bridget, the maid, finished with her morning duties, is resting in her room on the third story. Mr. Borden is lying on the couch in the living room. Emma Borden is away from home. And Lizzie...

Lizzie Borden is standing on the back porch. Bridget! Bridget! Come here! What's the matter, Miss Lizzie? Come down quick. Father's dead. Somebody came in and killed him. Don't go in, Bridget. Don't go in. Get a doctor. Run across the street and get Dr. Bowen. Is there anything wrong, Lizzie? Mrs. Churchill, someone has killed Father. Please, please come over. I'll be over right away. The doctor isn't home. I left word for him to come. Miss Lizzie...

Where were you when this happened? I was out in the yard. I heard a groan. The screen door was wide open. I came in. Lizzie, Lizzie, where is your father? In the living room. Where were you, Lizzie, when it happened? I went to the barn to get a piece of iron. Where is your mother? I don't know. She had a note to go see someone who was sick. It must have been in town. But I thought I heard her come in.

I don't know but what she may have been killed too. Father must have an enemy. What's all this, Lizzie? What's it to hear about your father? It's Dr. Bowen. And he has Officer Allen with him. Oh, Doctor. Doctor, in the living room. All right, all right. Now stand back. Come on, Doctor. No. No need to examine him to see whether or not he's dead.

Get me a sheet, somebody. How long has he been dead, Doc? About ten minutes. Still warm. Lizzie. Yes, Doctor? Where were you when this happened? I was over at the barn. Where were you, Bridget? In my room. Upstairs. Did you hear anything? No. Were you asleep? No. I've just been lying down for a few seconds. Now listen. Nobody could have killed this man the way he's been killed without making some noise. No signs of any weapon either, Officer. Let me see your hands, Bridget. That's it.

Turn around. Oh, nothing there. You, Miss Lizzie. Let me see your hands. Me? Me? Yes, you. Whoever killed this man must have left them traces. And you were the only two people in the house. There's no signs of blood on Lizzie. Not even inside her body. I've looked, Midget.

You go upstairs and see if Mother's come in. Not alone, Miss Lizzie. I'm not going up those stairs alone. I'll go with you. Oh. Doctor. Doctor, Lizzie. Oh. Let's...

That's Mrs. Borden? Yes, yes. I knew something like this would happen. What? Why? I just did. That's all. Alan. Yes, Doctor? Geez. Mrs. Borden's been dead anywhere from one hour to two hours. And he's been dead only a few minutes. Yes. Every one of you stay where you are. I'm going to search for the weapon. But neither Officer Alan nor any other of the many members of the police force ever found the weapon. Mrs. Churchill, from her window across the driveway, saw no one enter or leave the house.

Mrs. Borden, the murdered woman, weighed nearly 200 pounds, yet no one heard a sound when the murderer felled her. Not a sound, not a cry, not a clue, but suspicions. Yes.

Lizzie Borden lay in prison staring at the whitewashed ceiling, hearing again and again the same words. Different voices, but always the same words. Where were you, Lizzie Borden, when this happened? Where were you, Lizzie Borden, when this happened? Where were you, Lizzie Borden, when this happened? Where were you, Lizzie Borden, when this happened? Where were you, Lizzie Borden, when this happened? Where were you, Lizzie Borden, when this happened? Where were you, Lizzie Borden, when this happened?

The Superior Court of New Bedford on this day, June the 20th, now in session. Chief Justice Albert Mason presiding. All stand while the justice takes his seat. Mr. Robinson, you may begin your closing appeal to the jury. Gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the witnesses describe the sitting room in which Mr. Borden was killed. Of the walls, the ceiling were splattered with blood.

Now, gentlemen of the jury, almost two hours elapsed between the murders. At no time was Miss Lizzie Borden out of the sight of Bridget the maid or Mr. Borden before his death, or a period of more than 20 minutes. How could she cleanse herself of bloodstains in that length of time? I repeat, how could she cleanse herself of bloodstains in that length of time? She could not.

Remember that according to the state, Lizzie Borden must have killed her stepmother about 9.30, got rid of the weapon, cleansed herself, and appeared before Bridget the maid before 9.45. Again, she had between 10.45 and 11 o'clock in which to kill Mr. Borden, again dispose of the weapon, and again cleanse herself of bloodstains. Impossible, gentlemen of the jury, impossible.

Within 15 minutes of Mr. Borden's death, Lizzie Borden was examined by Mrs. Churchill, who stated that there were no bloodstains on Lizzie Borden's person, not even inside her body. I have finished. I ask that you think carefully and seriously upon the evidence presented when you return your verdict. The district attorney may address the jury.

Gentlemen of the jury, the defense contend that Lizzie Borden did not have time to cleanse herself after killing her stepmother. Now that is something that no one can say. The medical testimony cannot and does not specify the exact moment at which Mrs. Borden was struck down. And Lizzie Borden may have had ample time in which to rid herself of the telltale bloodstains.

In regard to the killing of Mr. Borden, I admit the difficulty. I cannot answer it. You cannot answer it. But, gentlemen of the jury, Lizzie Borden was the only person who could have committed the double murder.

And so I say to you, gentlemen of the jury, as presiding judge in this case, that if the state have not proved their case, then you must find Paul the prisoner and return a verdict so. You may retire to consider your verdict. While the jury retire to consider their verdict, consider the case.

It is not easy to remove bloodstains. Bloodstains can be removed more or less easily from the smooth skin of the face, but from the hands, no. Remember, too, that there was no bathtub in the Borden home. Do not lose sight of the fact that no weapon was found, no burned clothes were found, and the murderer must have been literally saturated with the victim's blood. Consider, too, that at any moment Bridget, the maid, or Mr. Borden could have walked upstairs and discovered the murderer killing Mrs. Borden.

The jury have been out almost an hour. It is 4:30, and they file to their places in the jury box. Are the gentlemen of the jury agreed upon a verdict? We are, your honor. Lizzie Borden, stand up. Face the jury. We, the jury, find the prisoner not guilty.

A careful reading without emotion or favor of the trial transcript must convince any unprejudiced person that Lizzie Borden did not commit the double murder. Since this is an unsolved mystery, any solution is necessarily a supposition based, however, upon the known facts. A possible solution will be presented after you have heard from your sponsor. ♪♪

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On two occasions previous to the Borden murders, the Borden home had been robbed of jewelry and money. Stray tramps had probably perpetrated the robberies, and remember that these gentlemen of the highway leave secret markings on walls and houses informing their brothers of the road that these houses are easy to rob, or perhaps a mark that tells that the householder is kindly and that food will be forthcoming.

It is the morning of the murder. Lizzie? Lizzie? Yes, Mother? I'm going to town to visit a friend who isn't feeling well. Now, Mother? I'm going to my room to dress first. Have Bridget wash the windows. Yes, Mother. Bridget? Oh, Bridget? Yes, Miss Lizzie? I'm going to do some ironing. Will you wash the windows? Yes, Miss Lizzie. I've got the water and everything ready now. I'm going right outside. Mm-hmm.

Both of the irons won't be hot for quite a spell. I'll go to the barn and get the lead to make these sinkers for my fishing line. A tramp hidden in the basement since early morning makes his way into the house. This is his opportunity for petty theft. The house is empty, he thinks.

In the upper room, he comes face to face with Mrs. Borden. He silences her unheard cry with a blow. Panic seizes him and he turns to flee. Escape is impossible. Lizzie Borden has returned from the barn and tremblingly, the murderer hides in the same room where his victim lies dead.

Here's your father, Miss Lizzie. I'm going out to my room for a few minutes. Very well, Bridget. Oh, hello, Father. Hello, Lizzie. May I open for you, Father? I'm not the same, Lizzie. I'm tired. I think I'll lie down for a bit on the sofa. All right. I'm going out to the barn for a piece of iron. The murderer, still hidden in the upper room, hears the door slam. He creeps downstairs to the living room, sees Mr. Borden on the sofa, and thinking he's asleep, tries to creep past him.

Borden looks up, sees the blood-stained figure, but like Mrs. Borden, he is silenced with a blow before he can say a word. The back door creaks. Lizzie is returning. In a moment, the hue and cry will be raised. The murderer's only chance is to hide in the basement and wait for an opportune moment to escape. And so Fall River had an unsolved mystery. For the police, despite a statement that a murderer could have entered the house through the basement, didn't even look in the basement till the next day. And the murderer had, of course, made his escape in the dark of the previous night.

Dark Avenger. Dark Avenger.

♪♪ Over the minds of mortal men come many shadows, shadows of greed and hate, jealousy and fear. Darkness is the absence of light, so in the sudden shadows which fog the minds of men and women are to be found the strange impulses which urge them into the unknown. ♪♪ Dark Venture. ♪♪

And now the American Broadcasting Company presents Lou Merrow in The Miser. Well, officer, she's dead. I tell you, she's dead. Hey, relax, relax. She's dead. Miss Parsons is dead. All right, you said that 20 times. Slow down, relax. Let me get some of this down. So your name is Parsons? Emily Parsons, yeah. Emily Parsons. What's the address? 875 Western Avenue. Any further information? Yeah. Yeah, plenty.

After what I saw today, I couldn't keep it to myself. Oh. You know who killed her? Yes, officer. I killed her. Yeah. You heard right, officer. I killed her. You think that's such a terrible thing, huh? You didn't know Miss Parsons, did you? And you didn't know the spot I was in, biggest jam in my life. And you think she left a finger to help me? No. Let me tell you how it was.

I got this job about four months ago as a clerk at Charlie's Food Market. Nothing much, 30 bucks a week, but it was a living. That first day, I reported at 7 o'clock in the morning, and Charlie, the owner, was there to start breaking me in. I remember one of the first things I did was pick through the fruits and vegetables, put all the stuff that was turning a little bad into a box. And then I asked Charlie if I should take it out and burn it in the incinerator. Burn it?

No, always save this stuff for Miss Parsons. She'll be in about half an hour. But it ain't much good. Well, she's not particular. I give it to her at a special price. Also, leftover pastry, anything like that. Oh, one of those poor names, huh? Poor? That's what you think. Old Lady Parsons worth a million bucks. A million bucks. Yeah, that's the first time I ever heard of her.

I wish it would have lasted. I wish that I'd have dropped dead before I ever went to work at Charlie's. Anyhow, right at 7.30, like Charlie said, the front door opens and the little old lady in a long black dress comes on in.

Good morning, Charlie. Good morning, Miss Parsons. Do you have something for me today? Yep, everything in this box. Also, this bag of noodles. The cellophane got ripped, but the noodles are okay. Oh, that's fine. There's enough here to last me for a week. How much, Charlie? Oh, make it 50 cents. 50 cents? But isn't that a little... Okay, you give me what you think it's worth. Well, I...

Certainly don't think it's worth more than 30 cents. Well, all right. I ain't gonna argue, Miss Parsons. 30 cents. Here you are. Thanks. Oh, well, a box is heavier than it looks. Yeah, okay. Pete. Yeah? Miss Parsons only lives a couple blocks away. Would you carry this home for her? Sure, I'd be glad to. A woman with a million bucks eating a grocery store's leftovers? How do you like that?

And she lived in an old shack that looked like if a guy sneezed, the whole thing would blow sky high.

Inside it was dark and there was hardly any furniture. Also, it was cold. Put the box down on the chair. Okay. Say, uh... Say, it's none of my business, but it's pretty cold in here. Don't you have any heat? Oh, yes, I have a gas heater. Now that I'm back from the store, I'll turn it on and light it. There. There.

Now, it'll warm up soon enough. Yeah, but that isn't what I... There's not much sense turning on the gas burner when I'm not in the house, is there? Well... Well, that only runs up the gas bill, you know. Well, just the same, I only wanted to tell you... One sure way to hold on to your money is to be frugal in everything. And remember this, young man. When you got money, people respect you. At first, I couldn't believe that anybody with a million bucks or even a buck fifty-five would live like that.

I started delivering her groceries regularly. She showed me scrapbooks with articles about her father. Yeah, she must have had the dough all right. Her father was one of these financial wizards. And the last article which told of his death in 1924 said he left an estate of three million bucks. Oh!

But a couple of weeks after I started working at Charlie's, I forgot about Miss Parsons, though, because I got a chance to latch on to a little bundle of my own. Yeah. It happened on Monday morning about ten days ago. I'd open the store like I usually do when I swept out the place, picked over the vegetables for Miss Parsons when the phone rang in the back. It was Charlie telling me he'd be in at 9.30 to pick up Saturday's receipts of 900 bucks and make a bank deposit. Then, just as I hung up, I heard the front doorbell tinkle.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll be right with you. Good morning, sir. What can I do for you? You can open that cash register and keep your mouth shut. Hey, hey, what are you doing with that gun? Come on, open the register. Ain't got time to fool around. Yeah, yeah, sure, sure, sure, okay. Look, mister, I'm a married man with three kids. Come on, come on. Hey, is this all you've got? $14 and some change? Well, yeah, you see, we just opened up. All right.

I'll turn around and study that wall for a long time. And just keep remembering those sweet kids. As soon as he was out of the store, I looked into the cash register to make sure. The dope! He hadn't paid any attention to the white envelope with Saturday's receipts in it. More than $900! I hurried to the phone to call Charlie.

Ah, that Charlie sure was a lucky guy. Even when he got held up, the crook overlooks the big dough and takes only 14 bucks. How do you like that? Hello? Charlie, Charlie, this is Pete. A guy just came in and held me up. What? Yeah, yeah, just a couple of minutes ago, but listen... $900? Molly, we got held up for $900! No, no, Charlie, Charlie, listen... Did you call the police? No, I thought I'd call you first and tell you... Call the police and then call the insurance company. It's a good thing I took out that money.

Charlie, would you listen to me? I only wanted to tell you that... I'd be out 900 bucks if it wasn't for that. They never catch guys who hold up grocery stores. Nobody will ever see that dough again. But, Charlie, if you won't listen... Call up the police right away. I'll be right down. But, Charlie, don't you understand? He didn't get the 900... Charlie? He hung up on me.

Fine. Call the cops, he says. The dope, he never even gave me a chance to tell him. Police department. This is the assistant manager at Charlie's Market calling. I had just been held up. What's the address? 1227 Harding Avenue. All right, I'll get a squad car out there right away. How many men were there? Oh, just one. How much money did he get? Hello? Yeah, I heard you. He got $914. $914.

It was too easy to do anything else. I didn't have much time, so I hid the envelope with the $900 and a box of overripe vegetables I'd collected for Miss Parsons. The cops came within a few minutes, and Charlie was right on their heels.

but they didn't bother me a bit the first chance i got i grabbed miss parsons box of vegetables and started out for her place but first i went into a drugstore took the envelope of money out of the grocery box bought a stamp wrote my address on the envelope and dropped it in the mailbox on the corner it was just as easy as that then i went up to miss parsons but this time she wasn't alone

There was an important-looking guy with a briefcase. And when I was coming in, he was just leaving. All right, Miss Parsons. You should get the first check in about two weeks. Well, I'll be fine. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Morning, Miss Parsons. That's Mr. Humphreys, my financial advisor, you know. Some of my government bonds have matured, and on the first of next month, the government will send me a check for $2,000. And that's only interest. Yeah? Wow, wow. Here's your groceries, Miss Parsons. You see what comes from investing your money wisely, Peter? Oh, yeah. Of course, I don't have to worry about that. I'm always broke. Oh!

I thought I was making a big joke. But as things worked out, it didn't take me three days to blow every dime of that 900 bucks. A couple of poker games. A big night with a girlfriend. A visit to the neighborhood bookie. And I was right back where I started from. But if I thought that was tough, I found out how wrong I was. Yeah. I was alone in the store yesterday morning when a stranger came in.

Uh, hello. You're Peter Nolan, aren't you? Yeah, but I don't think I know you. My name's Duncan. I'm a special investigator for the insurance company that paid your boss, Charlie, $900. Oh, well, is Charlie around? Uh, no, no, no. Charlie's home. He won't be in till this afternoon. Oh. Well, Charlie's in for a surprise. Surprise? Yeah. The cops picked up the crook who robbed you a couple of weeks ago. They did? Did it...

They did, huh? Well, that's swell. Swell, yeah. Sure is a surprise. Oh, but that's not the surprise I'm talking about. No? The real surprise is that this crook says he didn't take the $900. Huh? No, he only got $14 and some change, according to him. According to him? Huh? That's a good one. That guy ought to write jokes for Bob Hope. Didn't get the $900. Huh? Huh?

What does he think is going to believe something like that? I believe it. Who? I believe it. I've talked to so many of these guys, I can tell in five seconds whether they're lying or not. Oh, but I didn't... This fellow's got no reason to lie. He's a three-time loser. $14 or $900. Doesn't make any difference. He's through. All right. All right, then if he didn't take the dough, I'd like to know what happened to it. Maybe it melted away.

How much do you have left? What are you talking about? How much do you have left? You saying I took it? I ought to bust you one for that. Okay. What's Charlie's home phone number? Sunset 3-2-1-6-6. Go ahead, call him. Tell him what you told me. He'll laugh in your face. Go on, go on, go on.

You know, what you did wasn't so original. I run into it a dozen times a month. Go ahead, go ahead, call him. And later on today, I'm going to have my lawyer call you. Oh, hello, Mr. Harris. Hey, wait a minute. Holding the hook down won't help. As soon as I leave here, I'll call him again.

Give me a break, will you? Just answer my question. How much of the 900 do you have left? Nothing. Not a dime. How much do you have in the bank? A 50-buck Christmas fund. How much can you raise between now and tomorrow? Not 900 bucks. Well, you're going to raise 900 bucks, or I'm telling Charlie and he'll throw you in jail. No, listen. You listen. I work for the insurance company, not for the police. My job to try and save us money, that's all.

Now, if you happen to find an envelope with 900 bucks in it somewhere in this store between now and, say, 12 noon tomorrow, it's okay with me. But I tell you I can't. And I tell you you've got to. After the insurance investigator left, I wanted to pat my head against the wall. Where was I going to get 900 bucks between now and tomorrow?

No loan company would give me that kind of dough on my salary. I couldn't ask Charlie. And who? Who? I went around the store like a crazy guy, kicking things, smacking things. They kicked over the box of leftovers. Miss Parsons wouldn't like that. I kneeled down to pick the stuff up, and it hit me all at once. Miss Parsons. Sure.

Oh, Peter. Come in. Hiya, Miss Parsons. I decided to save you a trip down to the store today. Here, I'll put the box right here. More cooking vegetables, eh? Yep. I sneaked in some good spinach, too, but don't you tell Sally. I don't think I should buy any of these, Peter. My doctor advised me to eat nothing but uncooked food for a few days. Oh, well, you keep it for later. It's a gift.

Oh, Peter. Come in. Hiya, Miss Parsons. I decided to save you a trip down to the store today. Here, I'll put the box right here.

More cooking vegetables, eh? Yep. I sneaked in some good spinach, too, but don't you tell Sally. I don't think I should buy any of these, Peter. My doctor advised me to eat nothing but uncooked food for a few days. Oh, well, you keep it for later. It's a gift from me to you. Well, thank you. You're quite welcome. Uh, Miss Parsons, uh, it's none of my business, but...

You're pretty well fixed, aren't you? Of course. Why do you ask? Well, I remember last time I was here, you were saying something about getting some dividends from government bonds. Yes. Two thousand. As a matter of fact, I received my first check in this morning's mail. And with all your other capital, well, it wouldn't hurt you much to... to... Yes? Yes.

Miss Parsons, I'm in the worst gym of my life. If I don't get 900 bucks today, I don't know what I'm going to do. And so you came to me for help. You're the only person I know, and it would only be a loan. See, I'd pay you back with interest. Well, I could give you the money as a gift and hardly notice that it was gone. No, no, no. Just loan it to me. That's all I ask. Well, you're a nice young man. You've been very good to me.

If I gave you the money, I wouldn't think of taking it back. Oh, gosh, Miss Parsons, I don't know what to say. Yes, I could go to my bureau and give you the money out of my petty cash this very moment. Miss Parsons? But if I did, I would be doing you an injustice that I could never forgive myself for. Miss Parsons, I... Huh? Yes.

The only thing that really counts in this world is independence. The ability to stand on your own two feet. Oh, but listen to me, I... My father used to drum that into my head again and again. Stand on your own two feet. Yes, ma'am, I know that, but... Except nothing from your neighbor but respect. Oh, right. Forget about the gift. Lend me the money. Strictly business proposition. My father had a lot to say about the institution of moneylenders, too.

No, I'll never be a party to any such business. But if you knew what a jam I was in... You'll find a way out. There isn't any way out, not if you won't help me. I'm sorry, I can't go against my principles. Principles? Why, you old miser, what kind of principles have you got? Living like a dog in this sack, eating food we ought to throw in the incinerator, too cheap to even turn on the gas heater and warm your house, piling up your money for what? For what? If you're quite finished, you may leave my house. Yeah, yeah, sure, it's a pleasure. THE END

But when I got out on the street, I didn't feel so tough anymore. Tomorrow at 12 o'clock, my whole life was going to be smashed to pieces. The only thing that could save me was 900 bucks and here this old dame with so much dough and she gives me a line about principles. I could go to my bureau and give you the money out of my petty cash. One of these nights, somebody was going to break into that shack of hers and dip their hands into that petty cash and... Hey. Yeah. Yeah.

No, no, that's crazy. I'd be the first one she'd suspect. She'd tell the cops about me asking her for dough, and then I'd... An old lady with nothing to live for but money? She wouldn't tell the cops if... She wouldn't tell the cops if she was dead. I left my room at 2.30 in the morning. I lived more than two miles from Miss Parsons' shack, but I was gonna walk it. Nobody was gonna see me. I'd taken a couple of shots of gin to kind of keep me going, and my mind was as clear as a bell.

The old dame didn't have nothing in the world to live for, nothing but that dough. I kept saying that over and over and over again as I walked like it was a line of a song. It was a little after 3.30 when I came to the street, and everything was all dark. I started getting the shakes when I went through the alley behind her shack, but just thinking of that insurance detective waiting to throw me in jail straightened me out.

Now I was walking up to the back of the shack. The door was locked. Walked around to the bedroom window. Yeah. It was open a few inches. And by the faint light of the moon, I could see that she was in bed. I started sliding the window open, but I kind of lost control of my nerves for a minute. I kind of got weak in the knees and... After a few deep breaths, I started raising the window again. Now I crawled over the ledge. Easy, easy.

I kicked over a chair. She was reaching for a bed lamp. I couldn't have that. I rushed over to the bed. My fingers closed around her throat. Please, please, please. And then I started to freeze up. All the strength drained out of me. It was such a terrible feeling, my fingers against her wrinkles. Please, please, please.

Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. I had to kill her. I had to kill her. But I couldn't. I had to. I had to. I had to. And I realized she'd gone limp. I thought for a moment maybe I'd killed her. But now she was breathing. She'd only fainted. Well, maybe that was all I needed. Maybe I didn't have to kill her after all. And then it hit me. Pete, she'd called my name. She'd seen me. Yeah, I did have to kill her.

But how? I stumbled around the room looking for something, anything. I... Bumped into a gas heater in the dark and I... Gas heater? Yeah. Yeah, I could kill that plane. Yeah, I started feeling all right again. But first the money.

Remember what you said about the petty cash being in the bureau. I went over to it. Started opening and closing drawers. Where was it? Where was it? I couldn't waste any more time. This tin can must be in here. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, here's your money. Hey, this is only loose change of diamonds and pennies. It can't be... What's this? A check. A government check. I jammed it into my pocket. Looked through the rest of the drawers.

There wasn't anything else. That was okay. $2,000 government check. I knew a guy named Tom would take government checks for 50 cents on the dollar and no questions asked. I could get a grand out of it. Yeah, that's all I needed. Hey, Miss Parsons? She was acting like she might be coming out of it. I had to move fast. I went through the house making sure that the doors and windows were closed good. Then I ran over to the gas heater and opened it up. Full blast.

After that, I went over to the windowsill and pulled the window down after me. I crouched outside the window watching. It was after five o'clock in the morning. The sky was starting to lighten up just a little. I crouched there until my wristwatch told me it was ten after six. Watching her through the window while the house filled with gas. And in all that time, she never moved once. I knew she'd never move again.

Then I remembered. This was my morning to open the market. If I wasn't there at 6.30, I might have to answer questions. Okay, okay, I could still make it all right. First, I wanted to look at that check. I reached into my pocket, but before I could get it out, I saw the milk truck in the alley. How long had I been there? I hadn't even noticed it before.

Then I saw the milkman coming out of one of the other yards. And, hey, he was coming right into Miss Parsons' backyard. I tried to jump to my feet, but I couldn't move. I crouched beside the wither so long my legs had cramped up. What was I going to do? I pressed myself against the side of the shack. It was still pretty dark. Maybe you wouldn't see me. He was knocking on her door. If he should smell the gas, then...

Thomas Parsons. I felt my heart beating in my throat. All the time was getting lighter and lighter. Any second he might see me. Oh, well. Oh. He was going away. He hadn't seen me. I was okay, okay. I waited until I saw him go into another yard. Then slowly I forced myself up. Pain shot up my legs till I saw stars. But I had to get out of here. I forced myself to limp along. I had to get out of here.

And gradually the stiffness and pain left me. I got to the store at 25 to 7 and opened it up. There were no customers that early, and I was plenty glad. I looked like a wreck. If anyone saw me like this, they might remember it when they heard Miss Parsons had been killed. I went in the back of the store, washed up, put on a clean shirt, made myself some black coffee. And gradually I began to feel like myself again. I was a quarter to eight already.

Later on, when Charlie got here, I'd ask for a couple of hours off and go downtown and sell the check to that guy, Tom. Yeah, I was all right. I pulled the check out of my pocket. It was all watered up. I started smoothing it out to get a good look at it when I heard the front doorbell tinkle. My first customer. So I jammed the check back into my pocket and started for the front of the store. Good morning. Anything I can... Huh? Do you have something for me today, Pete?

No, no, no, it can't be you. It can't be. Do you have something for me today, Pete? No, no, no, you're dead. I killed you. You're dead, you're dead, you're dead. And that's the whole story, officer. I beat it out the back way when I saw her and I ran all the way over to the station. But now I realize it was just my imagination seeing her like that.

But you know, I'm still glad I told the truth. So you murdered the old miser woman for a $2,000 government check? When I was in a spot, she wouldn't help me. It drove me nuts. Give me the check. Oh, sure, sure. Here, here, here. You never did finish smoothing it out, did you? Yeah, now you can look at it. Yeah, I... I...

Hey, this is the wrong check. It's the only one she had, isn't it? Yeah, but this is only for 37 bucks. Look here at the bottom. It says what it's for right on the corner. Why, welfare, appropriation, old age... Hey, what is this? She had millions. She wouldn't be taking an old age pension. Why, she even had a financial advisor, Humphreys. Humphreys?

He was a social worker assigned to the case. He was a pauper. Every cent her father had left her was lost in the last depression. Hey, wait a minute. How do you know all this? Because Miss Parsons was here ten minutes ago and told me. No. No, I tell you, she's dead. I turned on the gas heater. I watched her die. She's dead. Gas heater? When she told you she was only eating raw foods, that should have tipped you off. Poor old dame. She was really broke, all right. Your turning on the heater didn't mean a thing.

The gas company shut off for gas three days ago. Over the minds of mortal men come many shadows. Shadows of greed and hate, jealousy and fear. Darkness is the absence of light.

So in the sudden shadows which fog the minds of men and women are to be found the strange impulses which urge them on to their venture in the dark. Dark Venture is written by Larry Marcus and directed by William T. Johnson. Next week at the same time over most of these ABC stations we'll bring you another original story from the land of the shadows. In tonight's Dark Venture Lou Merrill was heard as Pete

Others in the cast were Irene Tedrow, Jack Moyles, Barney Phillips, Herb Vigran, and Sandy Bickert. John Lake was the narrator. Original music by Basil Adler. With three times as much money in circulation today as there was six years ago, phony rackets and swindle schemes are preying on the public pocketbook.

The National Association of Better Business Bureaus has put out a warning against fraudulent business opportunities and dangerous investments. Contact your Better Business Bureau for an investigation or write to the National Better Business Bureau New York before you enter into any dubious deal. This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company.

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I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me for tonight's Retro Radio, old-time radio in the dark.