THOU SHALT NOT KILL: Sweetheart or Slayer?
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I love my career as a puppeteer. I'm Frankie. After decades in theater and TV, I was diagnosed with chordoma, a rare cancer, and chose Northwestern Medicine Proton Center. Proton therapy uses precise doses of radiation to minimize exposure to surrounding healthy tissue with the goal of reducing side effects. Now, I'm so grateful to call myself a cancer survivor.

Northwestern Medicine Proton Center treats a range of tumors including head and neck, brain, breast, and GI. Visit protoncenter.nm.org. The Black Museum. Affiliated stations present Escape. Dinner Sanctum Miss. Bye. Let's see you.

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. Welcome.

I'm E.G. Marshall, bellwether of a fantastic flock that forms on these airwaves at this time and place. The presentiment of danger, the intimation of disaster, the uneasy, inexplicable feeling that something we cannot define is leading us into a catastrophe we cannot explain for a reason we cannot understand.

A fragment of a dream that vanishes upon awakening. A wisp of an idea that eludes our comprehension and escapes our memory. Is this the way fate seems to warn us of our mortal peril? If so, it is like the warning of the rattlesnake. Too little...

too late. You will soon commit murder, Lord Arthur. This is monstrous. I have absolutely no intention. Look, I'm not a murderer. No one is until he kills for the first time. I tell you, I cannot commit murder. And I tell you,

You can, and you will. I refuse to believe it. You're all alike. You all want to pry into your future, which you have no business doing. And when you see what fate has in store for you, you refuse to believe it. But murder? Yes, murder. What's so special about murder? People do it every day. Murder?

Our mystery drama, The Saxon Curse, is based on the Oscar Wilde classic and was especially written for the Mystery Theater by Sam Dan and stars Paul Hecht. It is sponsored in part by Sinoff, the sinus medicines, and all state insurance companies. I'll be back shortly with Act One. ♪♪

Today, things are tough all over. Even the very rich complain. They protest their wealth as being eaten away by ruinous taxes. They lament that their once sacrosanct watering places have been invaded by common folk. And most of all, they bemoan the fact that it's virtually impossible to find a decent servant.

They may have a point. Quite possibly, they may have been born at the wrong time. They should have lived, say, in England around 1905, when rank had its privileges, wealth had its license, and the common people knew their place. Our hero is the youthful Lord Arthur Savile.

A golden boy who lives in a golden time. Well, well, you naughty fellow. Why haven't you been to see me all this time? Dear Aunt Clem, I never have a moment to myself. That's because you spend all your time with Sybil Merton. I cannot understand why people make such a fuss over getting married. I assure you, I have not seen Sybil for 24 hours. As far as I can make out, she belongs entirely to her milliners...

How are you feeling? Dear boy, as you well know, doctors are of no use at all. They can't even cure my headache. Unfortunately, these wretched headaches seem to run in the family. You know the legend. There's an old Saxon curse leveled against one of our ancient Norman ancestors. Poppycock!

You must come into the drawing room. I have a most interesting company. Oh, I didn't know you were engaged. Well, if you needn't try to fit me in. I have Sir Matthew and Lady Reed. Sir Matthew Reed? He's the president of the Royal College of Physicians. Elected by mistake, I was told. But surely, so distinguished a physician could come up with a cure for your headache. The more I distinguished the physician, the more elevated the fee.

And of course you must meet Professor Septimus Podgers. Professor Septimus Rogers? Podgers. Well, now, who is... You haven't heard of Septimus Podgers?

But everyone knows Septimus. Except me. Professor Podgers is the celebrated chiromantist. What is a chiromantist? One who reads hands. Oh, a gypsy. Professor Podgers is a man of science. Oh, really? I must introduce you. He tells fortunes, I suppose. And misfortunes, too. Next year, for instance, I am in great danger. It's all written on my little finger. Oh.

Oh, the palm of my hand. I forget which. But aren't you tempting Providence, Aunt Clare? My dear Arthur, surely Providence can resist temptation by this time. Now come. You must come in and meet my remarkable Mr. Podgers. And so I entered my aunt's drawing room, where I was introduced to her Mr. Podgers.

I must say there was nothing esoteric or mysterious or romantic looking about him at all. He was a stout little man with a funny bald head, and you might take him for something between a family doctor and a country solicitor. He was staring at the palm of Sir Matthew, and I was amazed to see how Sir Matthew and Lady Reed gazed at him with rapt attention.

And what do you claim to see in my hands, sir? I see a man of adventurous nature. You have taken four long voyages in the past. By George, so I have. Yes.

You were shipwrecked once. Amazing. You have a passion for collecting curiosities. But everyone knows that. It's been in the paper. Arthur, dear boy, do not interrupt. I see in this line, the health line, a secret. Sir Matthew, you had a serious illness between the ages of 16 and 18.

Now, how in the devil would you know? Well, it's all written here. Extraordinary. The man is uncanny. And now, Professor Pudge, as my nephew, Lord Arthur Savile, is anxious to have his palm read. No, no, I'm not exactly... Oh, have him do it, Arthur. It's like someone opening a window in your mind. I'm not sure those windows shouldn't remain closed. Hmm. Hmm.

Perhaps the boy is afraid. Oh, I'm not afraid. Professor, as you can see, young Lord Savile is dying to have his hand read. Don't tell him he's engaged to the most beautiful girl in London, because that news has already been published in the morning punch. May I examine your right hand, Lord Arthur? Well, if you insist. He touched my hand, and it was as if a galvanic current ran through my body.

Something happened. I don't know what, but I do know this. Suddenly, he no longer seemed to be a somewhat ludicrous, fat little man. I felt I was in the presence of great power, authority. A shudder passed through me, and I was frightened to see that the shudder also passed through him.

Beads of perspiration broke out on his bald skull like a poisonous dew, and his fat sausage-like fingers grew cold and clammy. And I knew fear, real fear, for the first time in my life. My impulse was to run from the room, but I forced myself to stand still. I am waiting, Professor. Well, what do you see in my hand?

I see the hand of a charming young man. Within the next few months, Lord Arthur will go on a voyage. Naturally! His honeymoon! And lose a relative. Well, we all lose relatives. Sometimes I think they were created for the purpose. Can you tell us any more? No, Lady Clementine. That's all I can see. Ah!

I was furious with myself. What was this feeling of terror that had suddenly come over me? Why had I permitted myself to be frightened by some unwholesome charlatan? But was he a charlatan? Is it possible that written on my hand is some fearful secret of sin, some blood-red sign of crime? Is he gifted with the power to read it? Why do I feel now that some tragedy hangs over me?

I waited for a chance to take the man aside for a moment. What is it, Lord Arthur? I must insist on your giving me a straightforward answer to my question. What makes you think I saw anything in your hand, Lord Arthur? I know you did. I'm afraid you're mistaken. All right, how much do you want? I saw nothing. How much do you want? How much do I want? This is how you earn your living, isn't it? Professor Ford, there's a...

Please, Lord Arthur, Lady Clementine will be quite angry with me if I keep her... Whatever it is you saw, Professor, I have a right to know. But I did... I'll give you fifty pounds. Sir, I... A hundred. One hundred pounds. Now listen, where can we discuss this? You may find me at 30 West Moon Street. My hours are from ten to four. What was wrong with me?

Wasn't it obvious who he was? A preposterous trickster, a ridiculous quack. Yes, yes, it was obvious. But it didn't matter. Because he was an instrument designed to pierce through the fog of the unknown and reveal my destiny. What had he seen in my hands?

I need not tell you there was no sleep for me that night. Promptly at ten, I presented myself at 30 West Moon Street, a thoroughly unimpressive house in a completely nondescript neighborhood. The professor himself looked even shabbier in the daylight. He took my hand in both of his, and once again that same electric shock charged through my body and through his body, too. His eyes closed. His teeth seemed to chatter.

Suddenly he dropped my hand. Murder. What? Murder. I see murder. What do you mean, murder? Am I going to be murdered? No.

You will be the murderer. Now see here, Professor. Have you asked me... This is... This is... This is what? This is monstrous murder. I'm not a murderer. Oh, no one is until he kills. Now how can you sit there and tell me such... Such what? It's the truth. I'm not the kind of person who... Why didn't you leave it alone? I tried to discourage you. I tell you I cannot commit murder. And I tell you that you can and you will.

Who am I going to kill? I don't know. I don't know.

Your murder line stops short. Well, will I kill more than once? No. There is only one murder in your hand. And will I be caught? No. How can you be sure? Because I see no line of retribution in your hand. Then... then I'm to get away with it. Yes. Because you will obviously have chosen your victim carefully... and planned your murder skillfully...

and executed your killing flawlessly. Carefully? Carefully? Flawlessly? How? What do I know about murder? Oh, you will learn. After all, Lord Arthur, necessity has always been the mother of invention. Oh.

than which truer words were never spoken. Of course, to our hero, Lord Arthur Saville, murder was something that usually took place only in the sensational newspapers. It was neither the pastime nor the preoccupation of a gentleman. But now, suddenly, he himself is notified that he is not only about to commit murder, but he is to do it successfully.

I'll be back shortly with Act Two. Murder will out, said Chaucer. Murder cannot be hid, said Cervantes. And murder, though it have no tongue, will speak with most miraculous organ.

said Shakespeare. That is certainly a weighty consensus of extremely well-informed opinion. And yet, here we have young Lord Arthur Savile being cast by destiny in the role of a murderer who will not only murder, but remain undetected. But why, Professor Podgers, why am I about to commit murder? That I cannot say. I have no enemies. No one hates me. Why?

There must be a reason. I'm sorry, Sir Arthur. I can enlighten you no further. Wait. You saw three things in my hand. Two of them you told me last night. First, that I would go on a voyage. Do you still see that? Yes. Second, that I shall lose a relative. Is that still to occur? Yes. And... And I shall commit murder. Does that complete the list? It does, Sir Arthur. Yes.

How many relatives am I to lose? Just one. Just one? Quite so, sir. But I only have two relatives. Two? In all the world. There is just my twin sister, Pamela, and my aunt, Lady Clementine Beecham. Are you saying that one of them will die within the next few months? I am saying that is what is written. Which one? I'm sorry it doesn't say. But one...

We'll die. Yes, Lord Arthur. I looked at my hand, and suddenly it was no longer the familiar five-fingered palm made of firm pink flesh, and finally etched delicate lines. It was white, dead white, corpse white, like the white paper on which the death sentence is written. And here the death sentence was written in blood-red letters. Lady Clementine Beecham. And I even knew why.

She would die because it would be necessary to make sure that my sister, my dearest twin, Pamela, would live. And at that moment, I felt almost at peace, almost as if I was serving the ends of a just fate. For why should Pamela, lovely Pamela, newly married and about to know the joys of motherhood, die? Why shouldn't I make sure of her life? Aunt Clare.

Surely a woman of 80 could have no complaints. I was able to smile. I was even able to assume a pose with Professor Pogges.

Professor, I believe I owe you a hundred pounds. May I write you a check? If it's convenient, Lord Arthur. Oh, here we are. Paid to the order of Septimus Podger and so forth. A hundred pounds is cheap enough for such capital amusement. Amusement? Yes, and quite ingenious. I enjoyed every moment of it. But I assure you, Lord Arthur...

What I saw in your hand is the absolute truth. Yes, I dare say. Remarkably good show. I trust you're available for future entertainments, parties, and so forth? I am always at your lordship's service. And so I was committed to the killing of my Aunt Clem. But how to go about it? Direct physical violence was out of the question. I simply could not see myself assaulting my aunt. I would feel like a fool. That left one way. Poisoned.

But what did I know about poisons? Nothing. Ah, but Sir Matthew Reed, the famous physician, was a family friend, a member of my club. He lunched there daily, as I did. It would be a simple matter to join him.

I say, Arthur, that cop seems a bit underdone. Well, it's what comes of having a French chef. Yes, joining him for lunch was no problem. But how could I get him to talk about poisons? It was hardly a luncheon topic.

But imagine my amazement when suddenly, after his second glass of thought... The speaking of poisons, Arthur. What? I wasn't aware that we were speaking of poisons, Sir Matthew. Well, I was thinking of poisons, so it's the same thing. Yes, sir. Remarkable case in the newspapers. Read about it? No, sir. Hmm. Hmm.

Fella did away with his wife. Yes, sir. Botched it. Is that so? Chap was married 50 years, fell in love with a younger woman, and had to get rid of the old one. Bounder deserves to be hanged. Before murdering his wife, sir? No. For using arsenic. Ah. Messy, painful affair. Now, after 50 years of loyal service, the poor old lady deserves something like, well, laconicine.

A conatine, sir? Oh, yes. It's the creme de la creme of poisons. Swift. Takes almost immediate effect. Perfectly painless. It mixes well with food and drink. Quite palatable. Is that so? Harper, you must promise me something.

If after 50 years of wedded bliss with a divine civil, you should decide to, well, do her in, you should by all means use a carnitine. I promise.

Sir Matthew, suppose after 50 years I should wish to make a fool of myself. How could I come upon this acornatum? Why, I expect there shall always be a humbiz and pestle. There shall still be chemists by appointment to whomever the future monarch will be. A humbiz and pestle, of course. A HUMBIZ AND PESTLE

Yes, it was going along beautifully. It was as if I were following a track leading me to my sure destination.

That afternoon, I strolled up St. James Street to Humby and Pestle's. Mr. Pestle, who always attended personally on the aristocracy, was a good deal surprised at the mention of the word aconitine, and in his usual deferential manner, started to mumble something about... I assume, of course, Sir Arthur, that you have a prescription. I beg your pardon, Mr. Pestle. Uh...

The law requires... Oh, I hope you are not assuming that I intend something illegal. No, no, no, no, no, no. You see, it's for an absolutely humanitarian purpose. I have this huge Norwegian mastiff. You're familiar with the breed, of course. Uh.

I believe so. Yes, I am obliged to get rid of it since it insists on biting my Swedish chauffeur. The Norwegian Mastiff and the Swedish chauffeur seem to be sworn foes. There is no possibility of a peaceful solution. It's tragic. Yes, sir. Since Norwegian Mastiffs are plentiful, whereas Swedish chauffeurs are rare indeed... I think I understand, Lord Arthur. Thank you, Mr. Pesel. Yes.

Powder form is best, and a pinch in a dog's lunch or beverage. Ah, you are a man of great heart and understanding. Always at your service, my lord. And may I compliment you on your remarkable knowledge of toxicology. Was it only last night that I had met Septimus Podgers for the first time? Was it only this morning that he revealed the awful secret of my hand?

Was it only this noon that I had lunch with Sir Matthew... and discovered the Econotine? And has it been only ten minutes... since I walked out of Humby and Pestles... with the poison in my pocket? Yes. What did Podgers say? I would execute this murder carefully, skillfully, flawlessly? Oh, let me see. How shall I administer the Econotine to dear Aunt Clem? This could be a sticky business... and the entire project could fund her...

And it was remarkable how clearly I was thinking, how I was suddenly seized by the most happy inspiration. Why haven't you been to see me all this time? Dear Aunt Clem, I was here last night. The likely story you take advantage of my failing memory. How are your headaches, dear Aunt Clem? I would rather not discuss the wretched things. I have brought you a cure for your headaches. Wretched?

is no cure, dear boy. It's an ancient Saxon curse. No, but you must try this cure, dear Aunt Clem. It's proof against Saxon curses. Why do you say that? Because it was invented by an American. I assure you, it's a perfect cure. You must promise to try it. It comes in this

This little box. The box is charming, Arthur. It's made of silver. Open the box. Carefully. It contains a powder. Take a pinch in a little bit of wine. Well, I'll try it right now. Oh, good heavens. No, no, no. You must do nothing of the kind. You see, this is a homeopathic medicine. If you take it without having a headache, it may do you no end of harm. Wait till you have one and then try it.

You will be astonished at the result. Oh, I should like to take it now. The fact is, though I despise doctors, I adore medicines. However, I shall wait for my next headache. Oh, when shall that be? Well, I hope not for a week. I never know. But you're sure to have one soon. Oh, how sympathetic you are today, Arthur. Really, Sybil has done you a great deal of good. But

Now you must run away. I am dining with some frightfully dull people. If I don't get my sleep now, I shall never be able to keep awake during dinner. Well, good- Goodbye, dear aunt. Goodbye, dear boy, and thank you so much for the American medicine. Give my love to Sybil. Sybil. I must talk to Sybil. Since I should like to be as far away as possible when... when it happens...

Of course. That's the voyage Podger saw in my hand. I must take my leave of Sybil. But it's a month before the wedding. What excuse can I make? My dearest, I... I have a confession to make. A confession? Oh, no. Is it... Is it something serious? Oh, yes, it must be serious. Else why would it be a confession? I am willing...

To release you from your vow. Oh, this is... I have not told you everything. You haven't told me everything? What have you withheld? My dearest, I am a victim. A victim? A victim of fate? Of circumstance? Neither. I am a victim...

Of severe headaches. Headaches? Oh, you poor boy. It runs in the family. My Aunt Clementine... Oh, I know, I know. She told me. There's an ancient Saxon curse. And so you see, since you were unaware... No, I love you despite your headaches. I accept you for what you are. Yes, but... But I must take my leave of you, my darling. Your leave? You're going? You're leaving? You...

You will desert me? I'm going to Vienna. Vienna? But nobody ever goes to Vienna. There is, in Vienna, a celebrated doctor. A headache doctor? Well, a head doctor. Marvelous. And you're going to

See him? Surely he can cure my headache. Oh, my darling. Go. Go to him. Cry to him. You. You would not mind being neglected for ten days, fortnight, perhaps a month. My dearest, I have so many things to do to prepare for the wedding. I shan't even know you are gone. There you are. See how quickly and efficiently the thing has been arranged? Step by careful step, my murder has been skillfully planned.

And now, can there be any doubt that it shall be flawlessly executed? Yes.

And he's only an amateur. And this is only his very first attempt. So it only goes to prove that each of us has a hidden facet. An unknown talent. An ability that's kept secret even from ourselves. Does this mean that murderers are born, not made? Or does it prove that...

Murderers are made, not born. Whatever it means, someone is going to be killed just as soon as I return with Act Three. The order of the act has been schemed and plotted, and nothing can avert the final curtain's fall. Or so said a Russian poet.

And certainly it must be said that not only has Sir Arthur's scheming been careful, skillful and flawless, we can even add a bonus word and say meticulous. And so the deadly Akonatine waits with fateful readiness the very next headache of the Lady Clementine Beecham.

While I, of course, have made myself perfectly comfortable and happy in Vienna, a delightful, if somewhat socially backward city. And since I had announced to my beloved Sybil that I was here to consult a celebrated doctor, I decided, for the sake of the record, to do so.

Headaches? Yes, Doctor. Fierce, relentless headaches. Once or twice a month. Tell me about your dreams. Dreams? I never dream. You never dream? Never?

Impossible. It's true. I never had a dream in my life. We have found it. Found what, Doctor? The cause of your headaches. You have the headaches because you do not dream. So, all the bad thoughts are still imprisoned inside the skull. You see? I'm not sure. By George, there might have been something to what the fellow said.

Lately, I noticed I had been starting to get headaches. Maybe the Saxon curse had come down to me. But this lack of dreaming... All this was of minor concern. The crucial thing was I had made sure of my story. I had said I came here to consult a doctor. I had consulted a doctor.

I could now see where the execution of the perfect crime required superb intelligence, which is perhaps why it is beyond the capabilities of the lower classes. However, my visit was to end abruptly. That evening, there was a telegram from Sybil. Aunt Clementine died suddenly. So, she had taken the poison. She was dead.

And now, I must return at once, like the proper grieving nephew. I didn't pause to panic. I caught the night express to Paris, and from thence the train to London. The following morning, I was back in London. Oh, darling, you're home. Tell me, tell me everything. Where, where is poor Aunt Clem? In the hospital. The hospital? Yes.

I thought you said she was dead. She is quite dead. You see, she complained of a severe headache, and so she drank a glass of wine, and in just a few moments she... She... Yes? She seemed to be dead, but I couldn't be sure, and so I summoned James and Harrison Charles, and they carried her downstairs to her motor car, and we all rushed to the hospital...

At the hospital, they couldn't help her. Oh, no. She was quite dead by the time we arrived. Even Sir Matthew Reed himself was unable to bring... Sir Matthew? Sir Matthew Reed.

You read? He was there? Of course. He's her personal physician. What did he say, Sir Matthew? Oh, I remember quite distinctly what he said. If I didn't know young Arthur better, I'd suspect foul play. He said that? He smiled when he said that. Oh, dear Arthur, no one could possibly suspect you of doing the old girl in. Why, you were miles away at the time. Yes, in Vienna.

Did he say anything else, Sir Matthew? No, Arthur. But why are you so pale? What? Oh, the diet. Viennese diet. It must have... Did he perform an autopsy? Arthur! What a perfectly gruesome thing to say. Oh, I should hope not.

You don't know, then? Oh, my darling Arthur, you are upset. You're not yourself. I can see. Oh, I know how much poor Aunt Clem meant to you. She was dear to me also, always giving me little gifts. Yes, darling, I should like to rest. Of course, my dearest. Rest. You must be brave. One does not lose an Aunt Clem every day. Why was I frightened?

I had been assured that all would go well. There would be no retribution. That the killing would be carefully, skillfully, flawlessly executed. It was. Wasn't it? Why was I so apprehensive? Podgers had assured me. Podgers.

I must see him again. I must hear it from his lips again. He must read my future again. He must tell me that I shall not be caught. I rushed to West Moon Street. Here now. What you pounding on the door? I'm looking for Professor Podgers, Septimus Podgers. Is he in? Oh, yeah. He's in. Well, then why doesn't he answer? Well, sir, you asked, is he in? And he's in, all right. But he ain't in there. Is he in?

He's in jail. In jail? Oh, yeah. They come and carted him off about a week ago. Jail? Yeah. He had a bit of a confidence game. He'd get people to do all sorts of things and swindle them out of their money. How much did he take you for? Well, kiss him goodbye. You'll never see it again. I knew it. I knew he was just a common charlatan and thief. But he had the gift.

The gift of what? Prophecy. But how did I know? Perhaps it was all designed to get me to murder my aunt so he could blackmail me for the rest of my life. What could I do now? I couldn't very well visit him in prison. Oh, yes, I poisoned Aunt Clem thinking that the death of a very old lady would cause no suspicion. But I had reckoned without Sir Matthew Reed, Sir Matthew the expert, be authority on poisons.

And if he doesn't suspect, then, then I will be safe. But suppose he does suspect. Sir Matthew said, if I didn't know young Arthur better, I'd suspect foul play. But he smiled when he said it. Smile? He must have meant it as a joke. Oh, does he or does he not suspect? Why didn't it occur to me that I would inherit Aunt Clem's entire estate?

That could set tongues wagging. Did Sir Arthur perform an autopsy or didn't he? Does he intend to or doesn't he? How can I find out? I must find out. I'll corner him at the club.

You'd think a French chef would know what to do with veal. I think it's the Italian chefs who specialize in veal, Sir Matthew. The French more or less concentrate on beef. In terms of relying on foreigners. A damn shame about your Aunt Clem. Yes. What do you suppose was the cause of her death?

I don't know. I can't be sure. Ah. Do you contemplate doing an autopsy? A lady of that age? She can die for any number of reasons. Resistance low, heart not too strong...

Old people die because they simply give out. Yes, and she simply gave out. That has been my initial diagnosis. However... What is it, Sir Matthew? Just talking to you has raised a rather interesting point. What did she die of, specifically? Well, does it matter? In science, everything matters.

That was a good idea of yours. Idea? What idea? That I perform an autopsy. I didn't. Sir Matthew, do you intend to perform an autopsy? I don't know. It depends upon my schedule. If I've no surgery in the morning, I might just, and then again, my boy, I never make plans. Oh!

Did he know? Was he playing with me? Does a person who has been poisoned by a conatine show definite signs? Was this a game? If it was, then I have lost. For Mr. Pestle will certainly remember selling me... Or will he? After all, they are the busiest chemists in London. Mr. Pestle always struck me as an absent-minded type. Well, only one way to find out.

Ah, Lord Arthur. Ah, good day, Mr. Pestle. I was wondering if you might suggest a remedy for the gout. The gout? Aren't you rather young to be troubled by the gout, Lord Arthur? Well, yes, but it runs in the family, so when it attacks me in my turn, I intend to be ready for it. Oh, good.

Well, we have here a stool, and one elevates one's foot. Ah, excellent. Yes, thank you. I'll take it. Well, I'll have it sent, Lord Arthur. Ah, thank you so much. It's so good seeing you again. It's been a long, long time. Ah, so it has. Oh, no. Weren't you in here a fortnight past? Was I? Well, it seems to me you bought some...

A conitine? Yes. For your Swedish chauffeur. No, no, no. For your Norwegian mastiff. It must have been a fortnight. I could look it up. It must be very careful, you know, to record the dates of all poison purchases. It's the law. A most commendable statute. Well, good day, Mr. Pestle. Good day.

I was lost. Lost. Only a miracle could save me. But the age of miracles is past, gone, vanished. I shall be charged with the murder of my aunt. I shall be tried, found guilty, and hanged. And my head, oh, my head. My poor head is splitting.

Your Honor, I do not ask for mercy. I ask only for understanding. I killed my aunt to save my sister, my dearest twin sister, who isn't living in Canada, in order that she should continue to perpetuate... Arthur! Arthur, darling! Wake up! I only acted according to the command of faith. Arthur! Sybil! Sybil! Sybil! How did you get in here? He's called me, said you were in a...

Frightful shape. Nightmares and whatnot. Oh, my head. My head is splitting. Poor boy, the Saxon curse. The Austrian doctor was of little help. Nothing can help. Oh, you must never say that. Here, drink some coffee. A hot cup of black coffee. No, no, I don't like coffee. Oh, it's black. I know. I put in plenty of sugar. It won't make me feel better. It will, I promise you. Here. Here.

Drink it. All right. Now, now, isn't that delicious? Oh, Sybil. Sybil, I... I must make a confession. Oh, no, you're exciting yourself. I...

I poisoned my Aunt Clem. Oh, you did nothing of the sort. I did. I gave her poison. Poor boy, you feel so badly about her death. You've been having nightmares. I tell you, I poisoned her. You did no such thing, and Sir Matthew can prove it. Sir Matthew? Of course. He performed an autopsy on poor Aunt Clem this morning. What? Death was due entirely to natural causes. Yes.

Oh, that's wonderful. I feel like I had it completely. Oh, then it worked. The medicine worked. What medicine? Aunt Clementine's medicine in this little silver box. That box?

That silver box? It's the box you gave her. Sybil, did you... Did you... Which has the remedy, the American headache remedy. Sybil, no. Oh, how peaceful. How calm you look. It works. The remedy works. Sybil. Sybil, you didn't... The day you left for Vienna, I told your aunt it was because of your headaches. And she said, well, my dear, take this American remedy he gave you.

he gave me for my headache. And I said, Dear Aunt Clem, don't you need it? And she said, Oh, I'm much too old to experiment with Americans. Just put a pinch of this powder in wine or coffee or tea. Oh, Sybil. And so I did. And now you feel better, don't you? Oh, you must tell me the name of this remedy. I shall suggest it to all my friends. Arthur? Arthur?

Oh, I see. It even puts one to sleep. Oh, this is wonderful. You rest now, Arthur, darling. And I'll wait for you to wake up. As you might assume, she had a very long wait. Well, whatever you want to say about Professor Podger's prediction, his three basic forecasts did come true.

Lord Arthur lost a relative. He did go on a voyage. And there was a murder. Not that Sybil was ever tried for it. I'll be back shortly.

Consider the word written. For centuries, we have heard it used in all sorts of mystical context. It is written in the stars. It is written in the wind. It is written in our fate. It is written in our palm. It is easily dismissed as the meanderings of the imagination, but certainly something must be written somewhere.

There must be some sort of written plan. Else, how do you account for the fact that we human beings make the same mistakes over and over and over again? Our cast included Paul Hecht, Catherine Byers, Cork Benson, and Guy Sorrell. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now, a preview of our next tale. Still, he did not move.

How could he not move, I thought. And then... Oh, then I realized that his hand... His big hand that lay in both of mine... Had no substance at all. It was as though my hands held air. I touched nothing. I held nothing. The hand, big and strong and firm as it appeared to be... Was nothing...

And then I knew, certainly and surely, I knew that I had come home to find my house inhabited by ghosts. Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by Buick Motor Division. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time...

Pleasant dreams.

For the ones who get it done.

As the number one selling walk-in tub in North America, SafeStep walk-in tubs are built to maximize your safety and comfort. Each tub comes standard with a dual hydrotherapy system so you can enjoy the luxuries of bathing comfortably at home. Soothing jets increase mobility and ease pain, while the rainfall shower head refreshes you from head to toe. Visit safesteptub.com today to request your free quote and ask about our special offers.

They've been here for thousands of years, making their presence known in the shadows. They might be seen by a lonely motorist on a deserted road late at night, or by a frightened and confused husband in the bedroom he's sharing with his wife. Perhaps the most disconcerting part of this phenomenon boils down to this question. Has the government been aware of their presence all along and is covertly working with them towards some secret end?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now there's a new way to share weird darkness with the weirdos in your life. It's a skill on your Amazon Echo device. Just say, play Weird Darkness, and you'll immediately start hearing the newest episode. With your Amazon Echo or smart device, you can let me keep you company all day and all night. And it's easy to tell your friends how to tune in, too. Just tell your Amazon device, play Weird Darkness, to start listening. Sunrise and sunset.

Promise and fulfillment. Birth and death. The whole drama of life is written in the sounds of time. We present a new series of radio programs, The Clock. The Clock.

The world is full of statistics, and statistics are often measured from the point of view of time. For example, there is a baby born about once every 11 seconds in the United States, and once every 22 seconds there is a death.

Gamblers will tell you that if you stood at the roulette table in Monte Carlo with unlimited funds for 50 years, the odds would still be 36 to 1 against breaking the bank. But Smiley Scullin will tell you that the greatest odds of all is the risk you take when you break the Sixth Commandment. Thou shalt not kill. Better make yourself comfortable, baby. This story's a long one, and I've got plenty of time.

It starts in a railroad siding just outside of Las Vegas. I'd been riding the rods from Frisco, and I didn't have a dime. But I got some grub before I holed up in this cattle car, and I figured it'd last me all the way to China.

Must have been about midnight when the freight jerked to a stop, and right away I hear a couple of railroad dicks making their rounds with their shillelaghs, looking for a skull like mine to crack. You take that side, Joe. I'll take this one. If you catch one of them shizzling bubbles, beat the ears off them. Anybody in there? Ah, this one's empty, Joe. Try the next one.

Anybody in there? Flash your lighters, Joe. Hey, there's one. I'm in the corner. Come on out of there, you spindle. I ain't done nothing. Come on, I say. You come in and get me. Tough guy, huh? Well, I'll beat the living... Hey, light, sonny. You... Grab him, Joe. Don't let him get away. Go on, after him. Give him the works. He caught me full behind the ear and cut my head. But that was nothing to what I'd catch if they ever grabbed hold of me.

I ducked behind the cars and headed for a row of shacks near a clump of trees. I had just enough strength to open the door of the first one and flop on the floor like a winded puppy when I ran by. That was close. Boy, oh boy, was that close. Someone's chasing you, young man. Who's that? Don't be frightened. I won't give you away.

Here, let me light a candle. There's nothing to worry about. They'll never think of looking in this shack. Who are you? What are you doing in here? My name is Pillsbury. My name is Pillsbury, and this is my home. This is dope. There ain't even a bed here. I use the floor. Don't disturb me because these shacks have been condemned. And we're supposed to be boarded up. Kind of a fairly safe and uneventful life. Getting your rent free, huh?

You got any grub? I have some food. You're welcome to all you can eat. Oh, thanks. Thanks a lot. I'll do you the honor to accept your kind-hearted invitation. He had a couple of cans of salmon and a loaf of bread. I finished it off inside of 20 minutes. Then he gave me a smoke, which I hadn't had in days.

And I settled back and took it easy for a while. You ever been in Las Vegas before, young man? I ain't never had that pleasure. It's a gambling town, you know, and gambling's quite legal in this state. So what? Haven't you ever played roulette? Roulette's a sucker's game. Oh, it's true. The odds against winning the game are chance or long.

But when you've got a system... A system? A chump's got their systems. And the house always rakes in the dough. My system's infallible. Absolutely foolproof. I can win a fortune to rule that inside three or four hours. Yeah. You don't believe me. Well, sure, I believe you. Why shouldn't I? You're worth a million. And you've also got a hole in your head and your brains are spilling out. Well, I'm sorry you're skeptical. You take me for a dope.

If you're so hot at busting a bank, what are you living in this rat hole for? And look at your clothes. They're falling right off your back. You ain't got any more cash than I got. And I ain't got a nickel. That's not completely true. Say, what's all them fingers on the walls?

Oh, the joint's covered with numbers. As part of my calculations, I started working on my system years ago, and every once in a while, I'd run out of paper. You must be nuts. I tell you, my system is perfect. I've tested it myself. Yeah? How? Well, a few months ago, I went to the cartwheel bowl. That's the biggest gambling house in Las Vegas. I only had a few dollars, and I had to start with small stakes, but I ran a $5 bill into $500.

By calling six turns of the ball in a row. On the level? Yeah. I made a mistake of them winning too fast. What do you mean? The management became suspicious and they bowed me from the table. The word got around to the other gambling halls and soon I was excluded from them all. And that's why I need an assistant for my second and final try. You mean that they won't let you play anymore? They caught me checking my statistics.

They saw how easy it was for me to win. They should order us to keep now, forever. What's your deal with the five C's you want? I still have most of it. I've been waiting for another chance at the table. Let me see it.

You won't try to take it away from me. All you got to do is yell and I'll have them cuffs on my neck. Now stop stalling. If you want to let me zoom in, let's have a look. Just a second. Yeah. $420 and I could run into $420,000 if I had the chance. Sure. I got to hand it to you. The dough looks real. I'd like you to work along with me, young man. I'll give you 5% of all my winnings.

You mean you want me to play the tables for you? You must play them just as I instructed you. You know, I want you to deliberately lose a little to avoid suspicion.

Then when the numbers are right and my calculations add up, we'll make our killing. And I get 5%? Yeah. When I hit a million, your take will be 50,000. But, uh... How will I get into the joints? Look at the way I'm dressed. I won't get past the lobby. We'll provide for that. For $100, I believe I can buy you the proper clothes. And

And we'll still have 300 to play with. You want me to put on the soup and fish? You must make an impression. Otherwise, it'll become suspicious. Well, it's your dough. Your time and my investment. Agree? I've got nothing to lose. Just one thing, Harry, huh? Yeah? Don't try to cross me. Why? You'll cut for something. I've spent the best part of my life on this project, and that's all I have in the world.

If someone stole it from me, I'll avenge myself even if I have to crawl back from the grave. Here. Let me fix the tie for you, Smiley. Not quite right. Yeah. Yeah. How do I look, huh? You look the part in those clothes.

Only, just don't talk too much. Why not? Uh, well, you don't converse precisely like a gentleman. What? Uh, now, don't be insulted. You'll have enough money to pass for one by this time tomorrow night. Oh, okay, okay. Now, where's the system? You don't need the system. All you need is this roll of figures. Hmm? Hmm?

Well, what's it mean? Well, you have to play each number in the sequence I've arranged. Place your bets according to the amounts alongside. Now, for instance, you'll bet $50 on number four red, and you lose. I will? Then you'll put another $50 on number 12 black and lose again.

You let the next two numbers pass and play the fifth on number nine black for $100. And cash in, huh? No, no, no. You lose again. Oh, hey, we don't seem to be getting any place. You let one turn go by after losing on number nine and then play $50 on this number here, 20 red. That number will win. Yeah, and if it don't? It will. You follow my directions.

This is important. You must start right after number eight black turns. Don't be into play until someone else wins on number eight. Uh-huh. Then

Then follow this sequence and you'll come back with over $1,800 and we'll prepare for the killing tomorrow night. Yeah? Sure. Okay. Give me the list. Now, listen to me. Under no circumstances are you to vary this routine. And you must leave immediately when you're one on your final number. See? Is that clear? Oh, well, you're the boss. You'd better leave now. Two blocks up the road, you can get a cab to the cartwheel bowl.

You drink by any chance? Oh, I like a shot every now and then. One drink tonight is your limit. And I'm only permitting that one, so you'll mingle more easily with the crowd. You mean to say I've got to take orders about liquor, too? Alcohol and gambling don't mix.

You take the money and the list. I'll be waiting for your return. Well, wish me luck, Cyrus. Luck? That's one thing you won't need tonight. The cartwheel bow was part of a big hotel. The slickest I ever saw.

I got a little worried when I first walked in. But when I saw the way they kowtowed to my fancy clothes, I felt like I was in. I had a little time to kill. Cyrus said I shouldn't be another ten. So I walked over to the bar in the corner and ordered my one drink for the night. There was a dame sitting near the entrance and a knockout if ever I saw one. She was wearing one of them long-slung evening dresses and sipping a dry martini.

And I noticed she sort of smiled at me when I sat down next to her on the stool. Why? Will it be a chaser? I beg your pardon. Do you have a mask? Oh, sure, sure, baby. Here. Here.

Keep the fact. Thank you. Haven't I seen you somewhere before? Maybe. Me? No. Monte Carlo. Never been there. Oh. Well, I've been all over the USA half a dozen times. Name's Scallon. Miley Scallon. My name's Alton. Oh.

That sounds just how you look. Hey, Barkeep. I want a drink for the lady. You're very kind. You live in this hotel? Yes, I'm here for six weeks. Say, I'm getting a divorce this year. Oh, your hubby must be cockeyed for the babe like you walk out. Oh, he loves me, but he can't afford me. I like to gamble too much.

Why ain't you playing the table? I'm a little short of cash. Do you intend to play? I'm going to bust that bank wide open, baby. That's what they all say. But I've got a system. I've also heard that before. Yeah, so have I. But the old guy's still short of himself. The what?

Oh, nothing. I'm a little late. Hey, it's almost ten. Looks like I've got to get to work. Want to keep me company, baby? For luck? Why not? Then let's get started. Here's where Papa begins to make himself a million bucks. The End

The hands of the clock and the roulette wheel have something in common. They both go round and round. But the clock hands are sure and firm. They leave nothing to chance. While the man who stakes his life upon the little bouncing ball may find that his croupier is dead. Oh!

31 red. 31 red. Place your bets, please. Place your bets, please. Why aren't you playing? I gotta wait. For what? Until eight black turns up. Now, really, you sound a little silly. Go on and laugh if you want to. But I got a system that can't be beat. And I'm following orders.

Who is this man who gave you the fist? I just know a gink I met. Palomar. Number eight. Number eight wins on the black. Number eight on the black. Please, you better... Eight. That's me. I'll work my list. Uh, 50 bucks on the red form, is it? I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you. Oh, I ain't gonna win this one. What? Wait, Mike. I'll tell you.

The next one, baby. Cash. Number 20 red. Number 20 red. Place your bets, please. Place your bets. 50 bucks on 20 red. Are you crazy? That number just turned up. Maybe you're right. Maybe. Too late now. 20 red, we'll see. Hey. 20 red, we'll see. You won. Sure. No chips, mister. Give me the cash. You want your credit? Yes, sir.

Tomorrow's another night. You're in luck, Dr. James. Can't help it, baby. We'll be back tomorrow night. Sure thing. Will you be here? I'll be waiting for you. First I'm busting the lid off this joint, and then I'm having a little celebration. Keep your eyes open this time tomorrow, kid, and watch me go to Paris.

When I drove back to the shack in the cab, I kept thinking of Olga and the way she looked. She was the kind of dame a guy could go for, but she sure was part of the high cost of living. You'd need a mint to keep a dame like that happy, and she could go through 50 grand before you bet mine. 50 grand. 50 grand.

It wasn't much compared to what the old geezer was going to get out of us. What did he need it for? He'd kick off before he knew it. Money don't a waste, I figured. Money that could belong to me. I stopped the cab four blocks from the shack and walked the rest of the way. He was waiting for me like he said he would. But he acted like he took the whole business for granted.

Well, I'm back. Marty, you got the money? How do you know I didn't lose? You couldn't have if you played my system. Yeah. Yeah, I got the dough. Here. Eighteen hundred bucks in cash. Tomorrow night we'll raise the ante and clean them out. Say, look, Si, as long as we're partners, um...

Tell me just how you figured this system out. I'm sorry. The secret belongs to me. You got it on paper somewhere? Here in the shack?

You're getting too inquisitive, Smiley. I don't like it. Well, I think I ought to collect a bigger cut. What? You get nearly a million and I pick up a measly 50 grand. You're getting greedy. I've got big ideas, Cyrus. Here. It's $90 for you. You can keep the clothes and get out. What? That's 5% of what you won tonight and I'll find someone else to do my work. You're cutting me out?

You're a little too ambitious. Go on. Leave me alone. I have work to do. You must think I'm a prize jackass. You made yourself some money. What else do you want? More. What? Here's another hundred. I want a lot more than that.

I want that system. You're not getting it. You ever get slapped around, old man? Get out of here, you hear? I said come across. Get up. Get up. It's only the beginning. I'll massage you like a pension bag if you don't shell out. Did you hear me, you old fleabag? Get up. Hey, Cyrus. Cyrus. Cyrus.

Holy smoke. He's croaked. I only slugged him once, I swear, that's all. I think that he couldn't take it. Must have got a heart attack or hit his head. Anyway, he was finished. First, I thought of grabbing the next freight out. But then I got a hold of myself.

I went through his perfect sand and found what I wanted. It was a little red book with a lot of numbers and I couldn't figure out. But there was one thing about that book I could understand. Each page was marked in order. And all I had to do was follow the numbered charts and hit the jackpot. Nobody saw me leave the shack. Then I got a room in a small hotel for the night. The next day I laid low, but I didn't see nothing on the paper.

I figured they hadn't found her yet. I got my suit pressed and my shoes shined, and about 9.30, I was back at the Carpenter Bowl looking for Olga.

Well, back again. Well, this time I'm playing for keeps, baby. Still on your system? Tonight I give it the works. Want to watch me? I have an appointment with a friend of mine, but I'll be back a little later. Boyfriend? Maybe. Jam? Look, baby, when I walk out of here in four or five hours, I'm going to be well-heeled.

And when I'm looking for someone to help me spend my time... Maybe I can advise you, Charlie. I could go for a day like you, honey. You've got a face like a movie queen and a shape like nothing in this world.

Even smash. Two left. And I'm not finished. Do we make ourselves full? Well, it all depends on how you do it, Patrice. Before I get through with these clucks, the managers are going to be blowing their brains out. I'll be back. With a sack, baby, to cart away my dough. I've got a kiss for love. No, I do work fast. I live fast. Thank you, Hank.

Ouch! What's the matter? My ear. I've got a sore spot behind my ear. Are you discussing it? Oh, yes. I guess I see. You've got quite a bruise. Now, go on, baby. Get rid of that monkey you're wasting your time on and meet me at the table for the payoff. Oh.

Number 11 black. Number 11 black, please. Place your bets, please. $800 worth of chips. All hundreds. I looked at my little red book and found a circle under the first number, which was 6 black. I figured I was to start playing after that number came up. I was right.

Number six black. Number six black wins. Place your bets, please. 500 smackers on number one red. Number one on the left. Number one red wins. Place your bets, please. Leave it on the table and put it all on 17 black. Well, excuse me, sir, but that's $18,000. What's the matter? Can't the bank cover?

Very well, sir. Place your bet, John. All bets, please, ladies and gentlemen. All bets, please. Number 17 on the black. Number 17 on the black.

Congratulations, sir. We don't have that much cash, of course, but we'll give you our check. Who says I'm finished? You want to play again? Sure. Leave it lay. Put it all on 16 red. But you've won $648,000, sir. Peanuts. One more turn, I'll be really in the chips.

I'm sorry, sir. The bet is too high for the house. Well, sure. I thought the sky's the limit. We can't possibly cover a bet as large as that. I'm sorry. Will you cover $10,000 on number 16, Ray? $10,000? Well, if I hit the jackpot with $10,000, I'll top a million. Then I'll leave you chumps alone. If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll ask the manager. I saw him turn to a guy in a down jacket with his eyebrows.

I was just about to burst out laughing when I saw something else. Behind the manager, standing with the dame called Olga, were two plain-clothed dicks. Yes, we'll accept that. That's well like... Ten thousand on number 16. Place your bet. Place your bet. He's on the wheel like a scared stick. Those dicks were watching him. I knew why. Maybe they found out about the old man's system. Maybe they figured the guy who knocked him off would play that system and give himself away.

Number 16 red is the winner. I had to lose. I'm going to go. I had to show him I wasn't playing a system. It was just luck. I forgot my book and I started to play the numbers like everyone else. It didn't work out. Oh!

Ten. Ten red, 5,000 bucks. Ten red wins...

Twenty. Twenty black. Ten thousand bucks. Twenty black is the winner. Fifty grand. Play fifty grand on number twenty again. Twenty win. Twenty black. We beat this show. Crazy. The ball hit wherever I called it. I couldn't lose. I couldn't lose if I tried. And then I remembered it.

He said he'd get square with me if he had to crawl out of his grave. He was getting square all right. Number 20. 20 wins the game. He must have been standing there, a ghost in a dirty beard, putting that ball in the slot himself.

Well, that's the story. Of course, I had to be the chump. They had me on more counts than I figured. The cut behind my ear that the train beat gave me, that's what scared Olga. And she's the one who gave them the tip about my knowing the old geezer. With a sister. And now look at me, spilling my story to the DA typist like I was drunk.

Sitting here in the DA's office when I'm worth two million bucks. Me, I'm one of the richest guys in town. Sure. And I'm taking the system with me when I get the chair. Oh.

If a man named Omar Khayyam could have traveled across the countless years from out of the past to witness Smiley's scallions end, he might have spoken Smiley's requiem like this.

The ball no question makes of eyes or nose. But here and there a strike, a play, a goes. And he that tossed you down into the field, he knows about it all. He knows. He knows.

The clock will be heard again next week, same time, same station. Written by Lawrence Klee, narrated by Hart McGuire. The cast included Richard Meikle as Smiley, Ozzie Winbon as Cyrus, Georgie Sterling as Olga, Ken Hannum as the croupier. The clock, directed by John Saul, is a Grace Gibson radio production. We bring you Creeps by Night.

Tonight, once again, we introduce the man who has agreed to serve as your guide and companion on these sometimes terrifying pilgrimages into the world beyond the realm of human understanding.

The man who, for reasons that cannot be presently explained, must keep his identity a secret. Creeps by Night brings you its anonymous master of mystery, Dr. X. Good evening. This is Dr. X.

Joining with you for further research into the shadowy darkness of the unexplored. The darkness of the human mind. I wish first, however, to thank you for your letters commenting on last week's broadcast, The Walking Dead. Many of you requested that I reveal my identity, and a few of you hazarded a guess as to who I am. In due time, perhaps, I will be able to step out from under my cloak of mystery.

But for the present, I ask you to bear with me, since I shall have to be known only as Dr. X. Tonight I have a rare treat in store for you. Mr. Edmund Gwynne, the celebrated English actor, is our guest. The story I have chosen is drawn from the casebook of medical science and concerns itself with the often ghastly power of fear. Yes, we are all slaves to fear in one form or another.

But the fear that forms the basis for our dramatization tonight is undoubtedly the most horrible of them all. It is the fear of... But wait. Let me draw aside the curtain and bring you Mr. Edmund Gwen as Ramsay in The Strange Burial of Alexander Jordan. For more than a century, the old Jordan house has stood on a gentle slope, mistress of the surrounding 400 acres of birch woods and pasture lands.

And now, inevitably, death seems near to the last of the strong men who have always owned it. Aged, irascible Alexander Jordan. In his faded, musty bedroom, the shades are drawn against the hot morning sun. And in the half-darkness, his pale, hollow cheeks blend into the color of the pillowcase. He stirs as the door opens and his doctor enters. Aren't you rutted, sir?

Come in and sit down. Close the door. What's the trouble, Alex? I had one of my cataleptic fits last night. A bad one. I'm going to die pretty soon, Blutrich. Suppose you let me do the guessing. Don't interrupt. I'm not afraid to die, mind you.

I've never told anyone this, but my greatest fear is that it won't be death. And they'll bury me alive. Oh, I think we can be pretty sure if it comes to that. Don't be so positive. Thirty-eight years ago, a young butcher who called himself a doctor pronounced me dead when I had a cataleptic fit. And he got me buried, too, if I hadn't come out of it on time. That was thirty-eight years ago. Could happen again. Ratledge, I don't care if I sound like an old fool.

All my life, that scared me. The idea of somebody mistaking one of those fits for death. The only nightmares I ever have, I wake up in a coffin. I put my hands up and I feel the lid there. Sometimes it's wood, sometimes it's cold glass, but there's no room to turn around. I put my hands down and I can feel the silk lining.

They have me dressed in a swallowtail. They have a stiff collar on me. I reach up to tear it away. I can't breathe. I have to have air. Panic grips me. I try to shout, but no one can hear me. I beat on the carpet leg with my fists. I try to break the glass, but I can't do it. I haven't enough room. And...

Pretty soon I know that I'm dying. Really dying. In the cold horror of the grave. Because somebody mistook one of my cataleptic fits for death. I don't want that to happen, Rutledge. And that's why I called you. Oh, you're just getting worked up over nothing, Alex. Listen to me.

When the day comes that my nephew, Ramsey, or his wife, Martha, calls you, I want nobody but you to come, Rutledge. I don't want any other doctor to pronounce me dead. Is that clear? Don't worry. I want you to go over me very carefully. If you are absolutely satisfied that I'm dead, you can go ahead with the funeral. But I don't want my body embalmed. I don't want anything done to me except to put me in a coffin. And...

Getting a lawyer here to write all this down this afternoon, Rutledge. But I wanted you to hear it too. I want my coffin put in the vault down by the Birch Woods. That's why I built the vault right on this property, so that nobody would ever bury me underground. All right. It'll be done just as you say. Now, wait a minute. I'm...

This is the most important part. I want a large brass bell placed on the wall over the bed where Ramsay and Martha sleep. I want wires connected from that bell to the vault. Electric wires. What for? I want a push button attached to the ends of those wires, and I want the button placed in my hands as I lie in the coffin, so that in case I'm not dead, in case I awaken...

I can ring the bell and let them know. Well, I must say, Alex... I don't care what you say. I don't care what anyone says. That's the way I want it. All right, Alex. That's the way you'll get it.

Make sure I do. Well, I've got to run over to the Pritchard's. Nor is having another baby. Taking that digitalis faithfully? Yeah. Foolishness. But I'm taking it. Sure, that's good. Goodbye, Alex. Get out and soak up some of that sunshine. I'll see you Thursday. Send Martha in. Alone. All right. Just a minute there, Dr. Rutledge. Oh.

Hello, Ramsey. I'd like to know why you came this morning, Doctor. I came because I was sent for. Why doesn't somebody tell me when a doctor's been sent for? Is my uncle all right? He's not dead. That's what you want to know. Not quite yet. You see that he keeps on taking that prescription I left. He wants to see your wife. Alone. Martha? You heard me. Goodbye, Ramsey.

I know the way out without your help. Goodbye, Dr. Rutledge. Mother, wipe your hands. He wants to see you. What did you say, dear? I said wipe your hands. He wants to see you. Is the doctor still in there? Is he all right? The doctor's gone. He wants you in there. Alone. Oh, for goodness sake. Now what? Just a minute.

Why is he asking to see you alone? Why, Ramsey, how should I know? Something's up. Rutledge was in there a long time ago.

Why wasn't I told he was sent for? Why, he... Well, you were in the field this morning when he asked me to call the doctor. Next time, you tell me when he sends for people. And listen, when you get in there, watch what you say. Why, Fancy, I don't know what you mean. You know very well what I mean. Just listen, and don't babble. He mightn't like my ideas about what to do with this place after he's dead. Go on in there, now! Oh!

You've already wiped your hands six times. Yes, Ramsey, dear. You want me, Uncle Alex? Yes, come in and shut the door, Martha. Yes, Uncle Alex. Was the coffee all right this morning? Yes, fine. Where's Ramsey? He's in the kitchen. Sit down, Martha. Sit down.

Yes, Uncle Alex. I want to talk to you, Martha. Lawyer Gaines will be here sometime this afternoon to fix up my will. Oh, Uncle Alex. I've got a feeling my time is drawing near, Martha. And I just want to make sure that worthless nephew of mine doesn't get his hands on the Jordan place. I never made you marry him, Martha. I... Never mind. None of my business.

But I could have told you he was no good. Never has been. I wouldn't trust him with the farm. He'd sell it before my body turned cold. But I trust you, Martha. Thank you, Uncle Adler. Yes, I've thought it all over. I'm going to leave the place to you. At least you'll have a roof over your head and some land you can call your own.

You like it here, don't you? Oh, yes, I do. I'd be perfectly happy to stay here the rest of my life. Well, that's fine, because it's going to be yours, all of it. Oh, Uncle Al. You make me want to cry. No, no, none of that. I'm sorry. Just one more thing, Martha.

One important thing. Yes, Uncle Alex? I've given Dr. Rutledge some very careful instructions about my burial. Oh, please, Uncle Alex. Nothing to be afraid of, Martha. When it comes, it'll come, and that's all. Rutledge knows what to do. He'll tell you. And I want you to promise me that you'll follow the instructions. Yes, of course, Uncle Alex. On my word of honor.

As God is my witness. Thank you, Martha. By Jove, you've made me feel a good deal better knowing I have someone around I can trust. Matter of fact, I think I'll get up for supper tonight. Tell Ramsey to come in and help me dress after lawyer Gaines leaves. Tell him I don't want him in here before then. Yes, Uncle Alex. And don't breathe a word about this to Ramsey. I won't.

If you need anything, Uncle Alex, call me. Yes, I will. Well, what did the old buzzard want? His lawyer's coming this afternoon. Here to go in and help him dress after the lawyer leaves. He's having supper at the table? Yes. Bring in one of the special hams. I'll bake it with pineapple. Did it take you ten minutes in there to decide on baked ham with pineapple for supper? What we decided is none of your business. What do you mean, what you decided? I said it was none of your business.

Better get out and feed the chickens. When did you start giving me orders? Oh, go on out of my kitchen. I've got work to do. What did you talk about in there? Grangie, you're hurting my arm. I'll hurt more than Beck before I'm through. What's the lawyer coming for? Would you like me to tell him you haven't fed the chickens yet? Something suddenly made you awfully cocky, it seems to me.

Tell me what it is. Right now. Benzie! Tell me, I said. Benzie! Let go of her, Benzie! I'm so near. Get out of the house before I lose my temper! Go on, kid! I'm doing. If this ever happens again, Martha, you let me know. Yes, Uncle Alex, but you shouldn't have gotten out of bed this way. Oh, don't worry about me, Martha. I'm all right. I'm all right.

Bacon and eggs for his breakfast. And why not? Did you fix the fence post over on the west pasture? Never mind the fence post. Give me that tray. You attend to your own business. I'll take the tray into it. Your breakfast, Uncle Ali. Hmm.

That's funny. Uncle Alex? Uncle Alex! Oh, my Lord! Ramsay! Oh, Dr. Russell! Ramsay! I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he have everlasting life.

And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. What's the matter with Martha, Doctor? The funeral was evidently too much for her. I gave her a sedative and put her to bed upstairs. Where's the undertaker? Down at the vault with the electrician. They're waiting for you so they can close the coffin.

Of all the stupid things. He's dead, isn't he? Yes, but we're observing his wishes to the letter. Grass bells and electric push-buttons, rots. Perhaps it is, but that's how he wanted it. And incidentally, as administrator of the estate, let me remind you that according to the terms of the will, either you or Martha must remain within earshot of that bell upstairs for seven days.

You understand that? Yes, to me, life. I'm beholden to a woman. That. You could do worse, Ramsey. This is a nice place. I wish it were mine. If I had my way, you could buy it in a minute. Well, that's neither here nor there. See that Martha gets some rest. I left a bottle of medicine on the small table beside the bed. She's to take it according to directions if she has trouble sleeping. Lord, what's that? Her uncle wanted a bell loud enough to be heard. He certainly got it. Doctor. Doctor.

The undertaker or the electrician at the crypt touched the push button. Nancy! Nancy! Good Lord, I forgot. The bell's hung right above the bed where she was asleep. Come on. Oh, Nancy! Dr. Rutledge! The bell! Oh, it doesn't mean anything, Martha. Don't be frightened. Oh, thank goodness.

I was asleep. It hit me like a blow when it rang. For a moment, I couldn't even move. I felt paralyzed like in a dream. There, there, that's all right. Go on back to bed. You'll fall asleep again with the stuff I gave you. The bell won't ring anymore. I'll go right on down to the vault and see if the coffin is closed.

Get her back into bed, Ramsey, and let her have another teaspoonful of that medicine tonight. You just get over to the vault and stop there, monkey. I'll tend to her. I see that you do. And remember, don't leave this place for seven days. Oh, what's the use? Is it morning, Ramsey? No. Can't you go to sleep? No. I...

Sure, you've got things your own way. Dawn, sleep. Don't mind me. I'm just a hired man around here. Just a hired man. I'm just a hired man.

Can't you at least make a cup of coffee a man can drink? Slut, that's what it is. Filthy slut. I haven't been able to get into town and get anything fresh, Ramsey, and you know it. It's just that you're nervous and not sleepy. I'll drive you to town. No, Ramsey. We've still got five days to go. Four o'clock. Why can't I sleep? Why? Three nights have been now...

Three nights with that bell hanging over my head. Martha, you asleep? It must be that stuff Rutledge gave her. I'll take some. I can't stand it any longer. Now maybe, maybe I'll sleep. I'll sleep.

I tell you, Martha, there's only one thing to do with the place. Sell it. You're wasting your time, Ramsey. I will not sell it. I'm not getting any younger. I want a roof over my head. That's what Uncle Alex intended. But now's the time to sell farmers. We can get a good price. To begin with, Ramsey, it doesn't even belong to me. Well, it will in two more days, won't it? Yes. If that bell doesn't ring. Oh.

Oh, I've got to sleep tonight. It's the last night. Tomorrow the place is ours. I'll take someone. I've mentioned it before. I won't tell. I won't tell. Talking in her sleep. She's dreaming. She's having a nightmare. Too much of this dope, maybe.

Your mother. Wake up. Not there. Oh, she's dead to the world. The stuff running together must be powerful. That gives me an idea. No, trust you. No, dear. You won't have to trust me much longer, you dried up old fool. Let's have a look at the little model. I guess it's all right to turn the lamp on. She won't wake up. Oh.

There. Don't see what the label says. Maximum dose, one teaspoonful every 12 hours. Caution. Overdosing may be fatal. Overdosing may be fatal, eh? I'm so good. We'll see about that. Maximum dose, one teaspoonful.

I could put three in her coffee tomorrow morning. She'd never know the difference. That stale coffee's bitter as gone anywhere, and that it fits everything. Yes, I'm her only relative. If she dies, I get the place.

Why didn't I think of this before? Why did I wait six days and nights with that bell hanging over my head? Why did I? Lord! Good Lord! Am I dreaming? No, no! It can't be! It can't! Stop! Stop that ringing! Sandy! Sandy! The bell! I can hear it, you fool! Quick! Sandy! Stay where you are! I'll stop it! Sandy...

What did you do? What do you think I did? The wires. You pulled out the wires. Get back in the bed. Are you out of your mind? The key to the vault. Where is it? What? The key. Uncle Alex must be lying. You're crazy. He rang the bell. You were dreaming. Get back to bed. Give me that vault key, Randy. Give it to me. Now take it easy. Don't stand there telling me to take it easy. Uncle Alex may be fighting for breath, dreaming against the coffin.

Get the key. All right, all right. I'll go down there. I'll go with you. Doesn't need two people. Just let me get into my clothes. I don't trust you, Hansel. You've got no right to say a thing like that, Martha. What difference does it make to me whether Alexis is alive or dead? I don't stand against anything. He left the Jordan place to you. Oh, now where did I put that key?

Must be in this drawer. Hurry, Ramsey. I'm hurrying. There, here it is. You took something else out of that drawer, Ramsey. I did not. Just the tea. What's the matter with you anyway? Where are my shoes? Under the bed. I'll be watching you from the window, Ramsey. If Uncle Alex is alive, yell to me. And I'll phone Dr. Rutledge. There's a storm coming up.

That wind's from the east. Now, let's see if this key fits. Fits all right, but... But it won't turn. Ah, there we are. Now, where's that light switch? There it is. Yeah, that's better. Phew. Oh, it's foul in here. Even smells dead. There's the coffin. There's the coffin.

I hope they didn't screw down the lid. No. No, it comes right up. Yeah. He hasn't moved. He's dead. Yes, just the way he was when they put him in there. With his hands folded over the bubble. He didn't ring that bell. Who did? I don't know.

Oh, now I know. The storm. Lightning shorted the wire. Sure, that's what it was. It must have been. Still, I... I think I'd better make sure while I'm down here. Yes. Martha almost caught me taking this darning needle out of the drawer. I'll work it under his shirt and...

jab it through his heart. You're going to stay dead, Uncle Alex, no matter what happens. Stop it! Martha! You followed me. I told you I didn't trust you. What are you doing with that darning needle in your hand? Nothing. Get out of the way. Let me look at him. Dead. Stone dead. Who rang the bell? How should I know? Maybe his ghost. You were about to do something with that needle. What? You really want to know? All right. I'll tell you.

I was going to jab it through his black heart. I was going to make sure he was dead. And I'm still going to do it. Ramsey, you're out of your mind. Am I? We'll see. Keep away from that coffin. Shut up. I'll scream, Ramsey. The fashions will hear me. No, you won't. Yes, I will. Help! Help! Oh, so that's where he is. Wait till I close this door. Ah, Ramsey.

Now scream your lungs out. Vanity. Don't do anything you'll regret. Regret? What a fact. Why waste this needle on old dead Alex? I might do much better using it on you.

She had it in your heart. Randy! Why not? Then I'll get to own the place and sell it. Randy! Listen to me. I listened to you plenty these last few weeks. Ever since he made you the high and mighty boss. But now, it's my turn. Randy! I'll never find you down here. No! No, you'll dry up and rot. Just like he's rotting in that coffin. Randy! No! Randy! Randy!

before I could touch her. Wait a minute. That gives me an idea. There's a better way of doing it. Carry her up to the house, pour that medicine down her throat, give her an overdose. She'll be dead by morning, and no one can put it on me. Oh, this is beautiful. Everything's working out fine. You're going to be rich, man. Be rich. Get the door open first, and then...

Lord, the key's on the outside. And it's a snap lock. No! No! What am I going to do? I'm locked in here. I can't get out. The door's solid open. Six inches thick. No windows. No air. Well, the push button's in his hands.

I'll keep ringing it. Yes. Sooner or later, someone will hear it. Yeah. Yeah, they should do it. The questions or the macaws that they're bound to hear it and investigate. I'll keep ringing it all night. I'll... I'll... Oh, no. I have seen the bedroom. I ripped them out. The bell won't ring.

Look out! A trap! A trap in here! A trap! Trap! That was The Strange Burial of Alexander Jordan, starring Mr. Edmund Nguyen. For our next exploration into the darkness of the human mind, I have invited the celebrated exponent of the Mysterioso, Peter Laura, to be our guest.

So join with us when once again we raise the shadowy curtain of the unknown and look deep into the souls of men. Until then, this is your master of mystery, Dr. X, leaving you with Creeps by Night. Creeps by Night is produced by Robert Maxwell.

Original music composed by Paul Creston, conducted by Joseph Stopak. Supporting Mr. Gwen in tonight's presentation were Everett Sloan as Alexander Jordan, Abby Lewis as Martha, Gregory Morton as Dr. Rutledge, and Dr. X as himself. Edmund Gwen appeared to be courtesy of Metro-Golden-Mayer, whose 20-year anniversary picture, The White Pips of Dover, is currently being released.

George Gunn speaking. This is the Blue Network. Three, six, and two. Okay. Keep the torch shaded, but turn it down into the safe. Okay. Shine right inside now. Personal bonds and holdings for the ambassador. Texts to United Nations meetings here in New York. What's this?

No, nothing confidential so far. You... You know what you're looking for. What do you think? Yeah. Yeah, this is more like it. More secret. Oh, HMS. Urgent as confidential secret. Yeah, this'll be it. Keep shining the torch. Okay, you know what to do? Yes. You see me out, then you squeal. Shout blue murder, but give me time to get away. Right. Okay, coast is clear. Your money will be in the post. So long. I wonder...

I wonder if I've done the right thing. Five minutes, then I press the alarm. Blue murder, he said. Literally. The Sounds of Darkness. Lee Masters, FBI, who wages relentless war against crime. Lee Masters, the blind detective who challenges The Sounds of Darkness. Double Trouble.

Hello, Dan. What? Don't tell me. I know it. Curtis Blumenthal. How did you know? The dulcet timbre of the voice. Sweet nothings in my ear. Now listen. Johnny Bridges. Yeah, here's Lee.

Not for you, Lee. You know he could fire you, don't you? Through Ames. Why should he do a thing like that? I work for you, remember, sometimes. Oh, boy, the friends I got. Listen, Johnny Bridges, when you call me, I'm not going to call you. Give it here. What the heck's going on, Johnny? Johnny Bridges! Are you calling Lee or are you not? Yeah, Curtis, sir.

Oh, yeah. Mark, you're there, Lee. You know, one day, I'm gonna... Fire him. Yeah, well, don't. We need him around for light relief. Thanks, pal. Well, anyway, Lee, a job for you. British Embassy broken into. Papers taken. I want the FBI in. I've spoken already to Ames. We want it looked into. You mean they don't? Nope. Nope. Get over here fast, I'll give you the lowdown. And not a word to anyone. Like I always talk about our cases, huh? Lee, I'm serious. This is top level, international level. It could mean a lot of trouble.

I want another rock in the drink, Lee. One piece of ice will do me. Okay. Thanks. I think I'll mix me another. Dutch courage? Something like that. How are we going to play it, Lee? I'm trying to think it out. We put one foot wrong, I can see you and me both being out of a job. Yeah, well, we're the fall guys. Yeah, that's tough. Now let me recap.

Last night, about 10, the British Embassy was entered. The safe in the Ambassador's office opened, rifled. Certain papers are missing, apparently. The internal alarm was given. Sure? Yeah, of course.

We do have contacts in a lot of places, you know. You think the British boys watch us in London like this? Well, you know they do. Anyway, a rumpus inside the embassy. We get to hear of it. Curtis is told to contact them. He does so. No go. They're dealing with it themselves, right? No cops, no FBI. Either nothing of importance was stolen... That's not what our contact said. ...or something of great importance was stolen. Yep. And Blumenthal wants us to investigate. Yep.

All because of the peace moves in Great Britain, the anti-Vietnam feeling there, and the Cambodia-North Vietnam question coming up in the United Nations in two weeks, being brought up by Russia. Czechoslovakia, a satellite, you know. The General Assembly have already voted for UN intervention in an effort to stop the US from escalating the war there. Well, now it's up to the big five. Britain is one of them. And there's talk of a vote from Britain against the States.

May not mean all that much on the surface, but the effects could last for years. Only talk, though. Yeah. I think a directive, say, is missing from the British government to its UN representative here and its embassy.

Maybe not a direct order to vote against the states, but certainly sounding out the pros and cons of it. Political dynamite. What kind of allies are they, anyway? Good ones. But the Vietnam question is absorbing the world, Johnny. And we have to find the papers. Check that they are what we think they are. Confirm what we think they are. And with documentary evidence, we can approach them. Ask them why. Put our government's point of view to them again.

Get them to vote with us. Whether you like the Vietnam War or not, Johnny, it's here to stay. Thing is, are we? Yeah. Yeah.

Embassy? Who is that? British Embassy, reception. Who's speaking, please? I want to talk to your ambassador. Name, please? Kirby, Harold Kirby. What is the call about, please? It's to do with last night. Just tell him that, would you? Hold on, please.

Carruthers, I believe you want to talk to me, Mr. Kirby. Yeah, last night your safe got broken into. I've got some papers here, pretty interesting. I thought you might want them back. I'd expected a call of this nature, but we would like them back, yes. On the other hand, those papers are fairly meaningless. They're not worth very much. No? No.

You want me to tell you what they say, or maybe you know already. All I have to do is call into a precinct, hand those papers over to the cops. They'll be sent to the very top. I think your government might be a little embarrassed at that. You know, the United Nations jazz coming up. How much do you want? Fifty thousand bucks, old bills, sealed in an envelope.

Take it to the corner of East 41st and Buckley. Get someone to stand on the corner with it. It'll be collected. And the papers? Delivered to you in two days' time. Personal messenger. Why not hand them over when we hand them over? The money, I mean. Why do you take me for it? You got the address? 2 p.m. tomorrow.

You're going to use that phone all day. Read it. I've been waiting, buddy. So keep waiting. Close the door, you mind? Some guys. What's the local precinct number? Yeah. Nothing like collecting dough from both sides, is there? Yeah.

Hi, Lee. Seems like someone wants to make a feast out of this. How come? The cops just got hold of headquarters. Lincoln Turner was on the line. They wanted you, but he gave me the lowdown. Yeah? Phone call. Some guy wants 50,000 in old bills. Dropped on the corner of East 42nd and Buckley.

Half one tomorrow. In return, we get posted in two days' time some papers from the British Embassy. Ah, it figures. Making a sell from us and maybe already a demand from the British Embassy. Oh, that's what I said about making a feast out of it. Yeah. Spiro call yet? Yeah. I wrote down a list of the complete staff at the Embassy, where they live and so on, and what Spiro knows about each and every one of them.

They all seem pretty on the level. A couple of black marks, though, against a guy called Winterton, second secretary. A drinking. On the cards, he'll be heading back for England soon.

I see. Call Lincoln Turner back. Tell him to tell Curtis no money goes off yet. We'll tell him when, if we feel like buying the information. Okay. Tell him also there's a party tonight at the British Embassy. Some occasion, I don't know what. Tell him to get us invites. Okay. What as? Anything, any cover. But get us in there.

Are you enjoying yourselves? Uh, yeah, ma'am. Oh, I do so love the Meta Heim interlude for cello and harpsichord, don't you? So divinely played. What's your opinion? Meta Heim? Oh, oh, yeah, sure, ma'am. Great piece. Swing it.

Yes, I suppose it could be described that way. Do help yourself with your drinks, will you? Oh, Lee, this is killing me. Why don't we move in and talk to the second secretary right now? I think the Metaheim piece was good stuff. Boy, I heard there was stuff in here, but sitting for an hour and a half before the drinks come out, listening to... Music critics. Who? That's what we are for this occasion.

Or maybe I didn't tell you. No, you didn't. Well, we don't have to suffer much longer. You see the guy? Yeah, over in the corner. Long hair. Thin stripe. Bomb got him his nut. All right, let's go see him.

Excuse me. Chaps, chaps. It's the most extraordinary thing I've ever, ever, ever seen. You know, he fell over the chair, all to his, you know what. And listen, listen. And the Peruvian minister just stood there, covered in booze, but being very diplomatic about the whole thing. Thank you.

Move it, Johnny. Mr. Winneton, Mr. Winneton, there's a phone call for you, I believe. Someone asked me to pass it on in the hall. That's very good of you. Thank you. Well, see you around, Jeff. Yes, sir. We follow. Excuse me. Hello? Hello? Hello.

It's funny. Oh, it's you. You must have run off. Coming back inside, you... No, Mr. Wetterton. Neither are you. Right now. I could get you kicked out of here, you know. Yeah, sure you could, but you won't.

Now, our information is this. You set the alarm system going. You found out that the safe had been broken into. Yes, who told you? A little bird. Now, listen to me, Winterton. We're allies, but we'll cut the buddy-buddy routine down to rock bottom. You're missing certain papers. We know roughly what's in those papers. We want to peruse them is all. That information doesn't concern... It doesn't concern your government. Yes, it does.

We're not going to make capital out of it. Just be forewarned and forearmed when the next UN meeting comes up. Actually, I've no idea what went. Now, how would a guy get in here? All the staff, you included, is keeping a closed mouth, as it were, about last night. But it wasn't a breaking and entering, was it? No. Well, we're trying to get those papers. The dynamite. What if they were published in Europe or the States? What? The missing papers.

We play it our way. Only the embassies, heads of state, know what goes on. And a few other guys like us. But if you don't help us, you're in trouble. Look, I'm going back to the plot here. Stay where you are. They're sending you back to England, you know that? Me? Why? You lift your hand too much to your lips. I'm leveling with you on this. When? End of the month. You're going to be fired. We kid you not, Mr. Winterton. You help us, we'll help you.

We'll get you retired, as it were, instead. No shame, no disgrace, no embarrassment, really. Can you help me? I didn't have it expected. Getting into the safe was an inside job, wasn't it? Talk for your own sake, buddy. Talk. I didn't know the papers were that important. I believe you.

You can get back to your party now, but don't open your mouth to anyone. We'll keep our word. I can trust you. You have to, don't you? Poor sucker. Didn't help us any, though. No. A phone call to him personally. Offer of money. Money.

10 p.m. last night. He stays up, lets someone in through the door, takes him to the safe, gives him the combination. Papers are taken. By whom? A guy Winterton can hardly identify who would know that the ambassador had those papers. Some guy in the diplomatic service. Any sign? No. No, it must be the British or us. Us, huh? Well, I hope not.

Now, who would be close enough to the British ambassador to have picked up something? Oh, sorry. It's you. Oh, hi, Spiro. What are you doing out of the party? Last time Johnny saw you, you were serving drinks on a silver tray. I came out for some air. You faker, you.

Thanks for the tip-off about the safe breaking. That's all right. I expect something for it. It'll be posted to you, like before. Which is exactly what you came here for right now. To check, right? Actually, yes. I had better get back. As always, at the ambassador's right hand.

They pay him as a personal valet to the ambassador, and we pay him for certain information. Nice. Johnny, did Lincoln Turner say he'd taken a tape of the call through the headquarters asking for the dough? Yeah, why? I want to go hear it. Now. The call to us again, Lee? Yeah, one more time. Okay.

You got the address? East 42nd and Buckley, half past one tomorrow. 50,000, okay? Unmarked, old bills. You'll get those very interesting papers in two days' time. Boy, what you can't do with them. Want to hear some more? No, thanks. What were you expecting? I thought there might have been some collusion between Jeremy Winterton and Spiro. But that's not Spiro's voice.

Which means, I think Spiro might have gotten the tip off inadvertently, that there was something in the ambassador's safe. But he didn't go to Winterton. He contacts an outsider who calls Winterton, offers the poor guy some dough, which he badly needs. Winterton lets the guy, the third person in the triangle, into the embassy.

And the papers go. But Spiro, our contact, is in on it. Why does he tip us off, then, that the safe has been broken into, that the embassy are trying to hush it up? Oh, just to keep it in the clear with us and move suspicion from himself. It's an old trick. And we still don't know the actual guy who took the papers? No, but I think maybe Spiro can tell us. Let's go ask him. THE END

I'm not going to break into my apartment. Why don't you live in anyway? You used to, at the embassy. I like to be on my own sometimes. I wake early here and get to the embassy well before I'm needed. But I asked you a question. What do you want? Why do you break in here? Ask silly questions. You're a double, double process bureau.

We can break you. I do not understand you. Also, I will not talk. And if you are not very careful, I shall refuse certain services in the future. Johnny, call the British ambassador. Okay, we use your phone, Spiro? No, no, I do not allow... Use it, Johnny. No, you will not.

You cannot do this to me. No? Hello, British Embassy. Who's speaking, please? I'd like to talk to the ambassador, please. I have some information for him concerning a theft from his study. He'll want to hear what I say. Oh, would you hold on, please? Who's speaking? No, put down the phone. Lee, put it down, Johnny. Hello? You still there? Who's speaking, please? Who's... Okay, so we don't make a call through to your ambassador telling him all we know about you.

Just so long as you talk. I do not know who it was. There was a phone call to me. Someone who said he knew of me, that I was... sometimes willing to pass information on to... certain people for monetary reward. He said... what was the best way of getting into the ambassador's safe. He did not want to be involved, but I knew... that Mr. Winterton would...

Well, allow himself to be manipulated. Ah, nice phrase. Carry on. Well, I gave him Mr. Winterden's name and... And then all I know is last night the theft was discovered. I made contact with one of your men at the FBI to pass the news. Like I said, Johnny, hoping to clear himself. So you were blackmailed into helping the guy that phoned. Now, you've no idea who it might be? No. No.

None. I swear this. Okay. Pack your bags, Spiro. Get out of town. Come on, Johnny. But what happens to me? You can stay or the ambassador can get himself a new valet. Suit yourself. Me? I would take a powder. Fast. Fast.

Lincoln Turner still on the corner of the street? Yeah, trying not to look like a dumb cop. You think someone will come along for the dough? Yeah, I didn't think so at first, but now I think someone will come running past. Lincoln's holding out the packet with the count of a dough in it. It's pretty obvious. Someone will grab it, run off. And I'll leg it after him? No, you go down the street. Someone will be in a car waiting. Who? In a minute, Johnny. Spiro was always a big mouth.

I think the first lead came from him to someone at the embassy working there or visiting. An attache maybe. Maybe just a semi-professional who got in there somehow. You know how it goes. Gets into a place like an embassy under a pretext. Picks up tidbits. Tries to sell the information to anyone interested. Okay, someone talked to Spiro. He let something slip about in important papers. This guy knew Spiro.

With the information he got, he blackmailed Sparrow. Sparrow himself wouldn't help, but he put that someone onto Jeremy Winterton. Yeah. A man often plays drunker than he is. Meaning? Should be near 1.30 now. Go out the car, Johnny. Okay. You said for me to go down the street. Either side, huh? Looking for... Winterton. Who else?

What was in it for him, Johnny? Dough. He's a sharper cookie than we thought, maybe. He wouldn't just sit and wait to be paid some dough. He'd want in. So he knows more than he told us. He does know the guy that did the job. Knows who he is, know where he is. And be with him right now on this job to collect his dough and take a powder before his embassy kicks him out of the States. I sure hope you're right on this. And if I'm not? Okay, okay. You will be.

The End

Take me to your leader. Who? What? So Lee was right. Stay right there in the passenger seat, Winterson. Or this baby in my hand goes off. You expecting someone, maybe? Hey, stop that guy right down the street there! And maybe the guy's putting down the seat to us right now. You, move out of the way, please. I want to get into this car. Sure you do. Get out of the way! Winterson! Let me, Winterson! Leave me alone! I want to get into the car! Winterson! Don't!

A great buddy of yours leads you in the lurch. No, you don't... Okay, you guys, you can move on. This is a cop job. FBI, go on, beat it, all of you. Okay, okay, don't shot, buddy. Easy to sound in on you, Johnny. The crowd. You get it? Yeah. Winneton shoved. That's okay. We don't want him. We better pick this guy up from the floor. You attacked me. Hit me with a gun. We'll hit you with a lot more besides.

Hey, wait a minute. Oh, I know you. You're Simpson, our military attaché to the British Embassy. Where are the papers? I don't know what you're talking about. Lincoln, Johnny, we'll take him in. Grill him, break him. I reckon he'll end up with a good five years in the pen. Wait a minute. I'll take you to where they are. Good. Lincoln, get him into a car. Go get the papers. Meet us back at our office.

And now? Now we return the papers to the British Embassy after we've perused them. I don't think Britain will vote against us over Vietnam, but you never know. They'll think twice now. All friends again. Politics is politics, huh? Yeah, even with friends, a dirty business. Okay, Johnny, let's go. The End

You have been listening to The Sounds of Darkness. Join the world of Lee Masters, the blind detective, next Tuesday and every Tuesday night at 7.30 in The Sounds of Darkness. The Sounds of Darkness is produced by Henry van Beek.

Lights out for the devil and Mr. O. It is later than you think. Turn out your lights now.

We bring you stories of the supernatural and the supernormal, dramatizing the fantasies and the mysteries of the unknown. We tell you this frankly so that if you wish to avoid the excitement and tension of these imaginative plays, we urge you calmly but sincerely to turn off your radio now.

This is Mr. O. Archobler. The story you're about to hear is a ghost story, pure and simple, if ghost stories can ever be pure and simple. Most of all, this play concerns itself with evil and evil men. It's strange, isn't it? We've solved the fantastic problems of splitting the atom, of accurately directing spaceships millions of miles across space,

And yet the problem of evil men hasn't changed since Cain and Abel. I give you then, Ancestor, after a message from your station. Inner Sanctum Mystery. Hello, this is your host, welcoming you through the squeaking door.

Not for a half hour of terror, but to tell you about Radio Nostalgia magazine. Radio Nostalgia magazine is a must for old-time radio fans. It's the magazine with many photos and stories of old-time radio and its stars. Our current issue features a 16-page article on The Shadow. All subscribers will get a free Captain Midnight decoder badge...

a Captain Midnight Flight Patrol membership, and a flight commander certificate from the Secret Squadron. To get your copy, send $1.50 in check or money order to Radio Nostalgia, Box 8007R, Union City, New Jersey, 07087. That's Radio Nostalgia, Box 8007R, Union City, New Jersey, zip 07087. Send now and get a free 8x10 photo of the Lone Ranger and Tonto, boys and girls.

And now, if you haven't already done so, turn off your lights now and listen to Ancestor. You know, Al, I kind of wish I had a book. Huh? What do you say? I said I wish I had a book.

Oh, yeah? Well, I tell you, I do. What do you want with the book? What do you think? To throw it at your fat head? Don't get so funny. Sitting here in this lousy shack hour after hour, waiting, waiting. I tell you, it's enough to drive a man crazy. What's the matter, Professor? You begin to remember those three guys you'll knock off in prison? Shut up, shut your face, shut up, shut up. A guy like you, you got too much reading in your head and not enough money inside where it counts.

You never get no place in the rocket. I'll get as far as you will, you cold-blooded... Shut your mouth. What you need is a bottle. You bet your life. Yes, sir, I tell you this... Wait. Huh? Listen. What's the matter with you? I thought I heard... Heard what? I thought I heard... Outside, maybe we ought to... Oh, stay where you are. I'll go. Headed something, headed something.

Nobody there. I thought I heard... You hear nothing, see nothing. I suppose not. You got the jitters you're trying to give to me, huh? I thought I heard something. Well, stop thinking. This place is perfect hideout. Nobody know about it but you and me and Duke. Duke? When the devil's he? Don't worry, Duke will get here. But will he? What do you mean, will he? That's a lot of dough, $50,000. $50,000?

Oh, you think maybe Duke pulled a double cross, huh? I'm not saying he will. I'm just saying that 50,000's a lot of money. Listen, 10 years in Alcatraz, I was in the same cell block as Duke. You know that? Well? Well, I get to know that guy inside and out. I know every idea he got in his head. And I suppose double crossing isn't among those ideas, eh? Listen, Duke is one strong guy, see? Lots of muscle, lots of nerve. One tough guy. He got so much nerve and so much muscle, there ain't no room for the double cross.

Yes, I suppose you're right. Sure, I'm right. I'm always right. That's why you and me and Duke is in the big dough now. I'm always right. And just because I'm right, in a little while, we three are going to have another 50 grand to split up, see? How do you like that, Professor? Splitting up dough, I always like that. Sure, I never seen nobody like the dough the way you do. I bet you still got the first dollar you ever make in the ragged, huh? Wait. What's the matter now? You got the jumps again? No, no, no. Listen...

Oh, that's just the dame. Oh. Oh, yeah. She's got a lot of whips in her, eh, Professor? Three days. Yeah. A lot of good it's going to do as soon as the Duke gets here, eh, Professor? A lot of good it's going to do with that soft stuff. A lot of good. Oh, God.

I gotta stop crying. I gotta... My eyes, day after day. How many days has it been? It's so dark in here. If I could only have a little light, just a little. I gotta stop crying. I gotta think.

What's the use of thinking? They'll kill me. They'll kill me. I know they will if they'd only listen to me. I don't want to die. I don't want to die.

Crying, crying, crying. That dame's making me sick. Why doesn't she stop? Been going on like that for days. Don't worry, Professor. She'll stop crying pretty soon. You bet your life. You will. The dude gets here with a 50 grand. Yeah? Then maybe he won't. Oh, what do you mean he won't? The boss said he pays 50 grand for knocking off this double-crossing dame. And 50 grand is what we're going to get. 50 grand? Yeah, and it's cheap at the price.

Say, if that dame blew off her mouth like she says she's gonna do, the boss is going up to Alcatraz for 20 years. 50 grand for saving 20 years out of a guy's life. Plenty cheap, I bet you lie. But that dame, she's got a lot of friends. What difference does that make to us? Nobody ever tied us up with the others we knock off for boss before, do they? No. You leave it to the do.

He's one smart guy. When he finds a shark over the river, he finds a gold mine. You knock him on the head, you drop him in the river, under the ground they go. They never come up again. I bet you're lying. Yes, that's true. They never do come up, do they? No, not in a thousand years. The river on this ground, she runs deep and fast. Nobody we ever throw in ever come up again. Nobody, nobody. When I press my ear against the wall, I can hear the water running...

Like it was a river under the ground. There used to be a river near the house when I was a little girl. I used to play near the water. And there was sun and light. I got to see the light again. I got to. How long have I been here? I never see anybody. I never hear them. Just the water running, running far below. No. I won't listen anymore. Hey.

If they'd only let me talk to them, if they'd only let me make a deal, I wouldn't testify against them. I wouldn't. I want to live. I gotta live. Oh, I'm so scared. I can't be scared. If I start being scared, I'll go on getting more and more scared. I'll begin to see things in the dark. The dark is full of awful things. No, I mustn't think of it. I'll go crazy thinking. I mustn't be scared. I mustn't be scared.

Okay, Professor, a four for you and a one for me. Read them and weep. Two pair, king's up, huh? You bet, Jim. Wait a minute, hands off the cash, pal. Read these cards and weep. Son of a gun, three queens. Thank you. He draw four cards, he gets three queens. Hey, you got a lock.

Have I? Sure. Meeting up with me and Duke. Duke, where in the devil is he? Oh, you start that again. I tell you, Duke, get here. One o'clock. That's three more hours. Yeah, but what if he doesn't get here? I told you before, the dame goes in the river, we scram out of here. But Duke said not to touch her until he got here. Yeah, but me, I ain't take no chances waiting around here anymore. Only time dames, they don't talk is when they're under the ground or under the river. Yeah. Yeah.

Three hours from now, if the Duke come back with the boss's door not... In the river that dame goes, and that's that. And that river, she cover up everything. Everything. You betcha. Thought I was smart. Smart getting into the racket. Easy money. Yeah. Smart. And now they're gonna kill me. Oh, my head. It hurts so. I must be going crazy.

No, I mustn't think like that. It's so quiet in here. If I could only hear someone saying something, saying anything, I wouldn't feel as if I was going crazy. I wouldn't think that all the world is dead and I'm alone. I hear something. No, no, it can't be. I hear voices, people. People, they've come to help me.

Listen, everybody. Listen, here I am. Here I am in here. Listen to me. Help me. Help. They've gone. There's nobody in my head. It was all in my head. I'm going crazy. I am. I am.

Oh, help me, somebody. Help me. I gotta get out of here where it's light, where the sun's shining. Listen to me, somebody. I go crazy here in the dark. Help me. Help me. Help me. I will. I will. A voice. I hear it again in my head. I will help thee, my lady. No. No.

There's nobody here. I tell thee, I will help, my lady. There's nobody here. I know there isn't. No door open, no light. I come to thee from darkness. There's nobody here. I know it. I know it. The place is so small. You're not here. Or here. Or here. No. There's no one. No one. I tell thee, I will help thee.

But I hear that voice so clear. Look before thee, my lady. The fear should not be thine. I can't quite make out who are you. My name? Perhaps thou hast heard the name before. It's Philippe de Marteval. Philippe de... Ah, her senses have left her. Better so.

There's bloody work to do. We leave our The Devil and Mr. O's Story of Ancestor for a short message.

America, the greatest nation on earth. But as our country continues to grow, it must face the problems of expansion, such as the now ominous shortages of fuel and energy.

There are ways you can help conserve these vital resources, both at home and on the job. Reduce thermostat settings by two or three degrees. Shut off lights and heat in rooms not in use. And reduce the consumption of electricity in late afternoon or evening. Remember, in conserving fuel and energy, you help yourself and your community. ♪♪

This public service message is presented by the President's Office of Emergency Preparedness and the Office of Consumer Affairs. And now, back to our The Devil and Mr. O's Story of Ancestor. The Devil and Mr. O's Story of Ancestor

What's the matter, Professor? You think you're going to find nerve in the bottle? I drink what I please. Okay. He said he'd be here by one o'clock. He will. It's half an hour to one now. So there's still a half hour. Something went wrong. What do you mean there's something wrong in your head? Duke will be here, I bet you, ten grand or not. But one o'clock... It's thirty minutes from now, so shut up your face and quit squawking. You're making me sick. Now, wait. Where are you going? Out to the road. Too much yelling here. Now, wait. Don't go.

You greasy rack you're running out on me. I haven't got nerve, huh? Couldn't nerve for anything as long as there's money in it. Said I could never make money, huh? I'll show them. Half a million. Why, half a million by the time I quit this lousy racket. Half a million, I'll be able to buy anything from... Blasted clock. What time? Quarter to. Fifteen more minutes.

He's got to get here. He's got to. If he doesn't, Al will want me to help him kill her. What's the matter with me? Duke will get here. He always gets here. Sure. He'll do the job. Duke likes killing. It's cold. The door must be... No, the door's closed. Al must have come in. Al, is that you? De Marta Val. Huh? De Marta Val. Who said that? I... I see no one.

I am here. You? You're where? The coldness at thy side. Oh, that bottle I've had too much yet. That's it. Too much. I... Weak. I... Worm-like thing. Of course I do hear it. Blasted bottle. Put voices in my head, will you? Not mine, not mine, not mine. Pray to thy God.

I did hear a hurt. Pray to thy God. There is someone here. I can't see you, but you are here, aren't you? I came back in her agony. I hear you, and yet you aren't here. Oh, what's wrong with me? Things are what they are. There's no one who can talk without being. Use your eyes to see. Huh? What? Oh. Yes. Yes, I see you. You've been hiding my eyes there. Yes, I see you.

Tell me, what do you want? Who are you? How did you get in here? Out of the darkness, through her agony. Darkness? Agony? What are you talking about? Oh, my eyes. I can hardly see you blurred. I'm weary of you. Weary of me? What's that? Something in your hand?

Yes, I see it. It's getting clearer and clearer. Oh, what will it be? A bow. A bow? What are you going to do with it? I fit the arrow. No, no, no, don't drop back. Stop pointing that thing at me, the arrow. It might... Done. The worm no longer squirms. The End

Hey, Professor, I think the Duke is coming. I begin to see the headlights of a car down the road about a mile away. Hey, Professor, what's the matter? You don't... Oh, he ain't here, eh, Professor? In the other room, I bet you, hiding under the bed, eh? Well, I think I go in and... Eh, not too old to be used. What the... Wind? The door, she's shut. What's the matter with me? Me, I don't get the germs. I ain't afraid of nothing.

Hey, Professor, come on out of the room there. Wake up. I want to talk to you. There is little time for talk. Who said that? Professor, that you? Oh, yeah, I see you. Look for your hat on the floor. Come on, you get up. Get up or I kick your face in. Come on, get up. Professor, who do that to you? To Marta, boss. Stand where you are. Yes. I got a gun on you. Stand still or I kill you. Yes. All right, now, wise guy.

I'm going to find out what you look like. Come on in closer to the light. No. Listen, smart guy. I don't know how you get in here. I don't know what your racket is. But you listen to me. My name is Al Cialotti. Maybe you hear that name before, huh? No. No, yes. No, yes. Talk of words. Who are you? What are you doing here? Come on across to the light. I grow weary. You grow what? What are you talking about? Come on closer to the light, I tell you. Now, keep your hands up. Up, I tell you. What do you think you're doing?

Keep them up, I tell you, you're crazy. I got a gun on you. I'll blow you full of holes. What's the thing you got in your hand? Drop it, I tell you. Drop it. Okay. You're still standing there. Me, thank God. Me, my... What's the matter with you? What are you set up for? Who are you? I get it. You got a bulletproof vest on, huh? Okay, wise guy, you ain't got no vest on your head. I'm going to blow...

No, wait. What you doing? Wait a minute. Put down that... So, the worm, the rat, one more. No!

Professor, open up in there. It's Duke. Open up. It's about time you guys woke up. Well, what's the matter with you guys? Why don't you put on some light? Put on some light? Yeah, yeah. That's what I said. Lights. Al, where are you?

Me, I'm here. What's the matter with you guys? Saving dough and kerosene or something? Come on, come on, light the lamps. We can see. Oh, yeah? Since when are you guys owls? Now quit the gagging and put on some lights. We've got to work fast. There is time. Oh, yeah, that's what you think. We've got to knock off that dam and get out of here quick. There is time. What are you guys doing? Putting on a brother act? I say we've got to get out of here quick. And I mean quick. Maybe you guys want to fly in the chair, but I don't. Stop saying that.

What's the matter with you guys? There is time. Oh, I get it.

You've been pouring the stuff down you, the both of you. Why are you so stiff? You don't know whether you're coming or going. Coming or going? You lousy rats. I ought to blow the both of you apart. Me, I'm doing all the work. And what are you guys doing? Filling your insides full of cheap liquor like a couple of bindle stiffs. Now, come on, come on. Get out your rod and let's get this over with. Get this over with? Yeah, yeah, over with, over with. The dame, we got to get rid of her quick. Rid of her quick? Stop jabbering every word I say back at me. You hopheads.

The boss gave me the dough. Fifty grand. Now, we got to get that dame out of the river and quick. Dame? Yeah, dame, dame. That squealing, double-crossing dame. Maybe you guys don't remember why we came out here. Maybe you think you came out here for a gin party, huh? Now, come on now. Come on. Get out your gat and let's get going and get rid of that twist. No. No. What do you mean, no? Say, wait a minute. Wait a minute. You guys can't be that drunk. You're up to something. All right, all right. Let's have it. Let's have it.

Well, let's have it. What are you up to? What are you trying to pull? Come on, let's have a light in here. I can see what you mugs are looking like. Well, are you deep? Are you deep? Light a candle. Light? Okay, I'll light one myself. But I'm warning you, mugs, don't start nothing. My rod works in the dark just as well as yours. Where's that candle? Well, answer me, where's the candle?

Okay. Just wait till I get a light. I'll make you guys talk. There, here. There it is. It's a match. Yeah. There. Now. Now I'm gonna see what's eating you guys. Okay, now Al, I want you... Al. How will I... Oh, dear. There you are. What are you doing standing there against the wall? Yeah, and you, Professor. What's the matter with you guys? Why don't you say something?

Well, quit staring at me without saying nothing. Okay, I'll come over there and I'll show you. Al. Professor. Atrocious. Who did it to you, Al? Who did it? What? The martyr, Paul. Who said that? Answer me. Who said that? I. I see you standing there. I see you did this to Al and the professor. You did it. I. Why?

Why did you do it? No, stand where you are. I got a gat on you. Now talk fast or I'll blow your pot. Come on, tell me why you did it. I came to her agony out of the darkness. What? What'd you say? When you die, I return. I die? You expect to knock me off too, huh? Stay where you are. Stay where you are, I tell you. That'll stop you. You're gonna kill me too, huh? Well, why don't you do it now?

Her. They're still standing there. I shot you. You're dead. Like they're dead. But they talked to you when I came in before. And they must have been dead then. How could they have...

No. No, stay back. I tell you. You're dead. And dead, dead. And dead. Don't talk. Don't move. What are you pointing at me? What are you going to do with that thing? Don't point it at me. I ain't done nothing. I ain't... The worm. The rat. The snake. The snake.

Finished. Open up in there. Come on, Duke, Al, whoever else is in there. You haven't got a chance. Come on out, we're coming in now. All right, boys, come on. Careful, boys. There they are. Put them up, you. Put them up or we're... Chief, what is it? Look. Look at them. Dead. All three of them.

And each with a narrow through his throat. Doctor, how is she? She's all right, Mr. Martyrs. Your daughter's going to be all right. Nothing physically wrong. Thank you, sir. It was most fortunate the police got there when they did. Another few hours and the horror of that darkness in her mind...

Well, I'll repeat, it was most fortunate. But I heard through the door... You're referring to her cries. Let me assure you that it's nothing. It was nothing but hysteria, a reaction to her horrible experience, that's all. But she'll be all right, you can believe me. My poor little Ruthie. I hadn't seen her for years. And to find her again this way... Oh, uh, Mr. Martyrs, there's something I would like to ask you, if you don't mind. Not at all.

What is it, Doctor? In her hysteria, your daughter kept repeating a name. I've been wondering whether you can think of any reason for her saying it. Name? Name? What name? She kept saying it over and over again. I'm not quite sure, but I think it was... Yes, it was... Philippe de Martival. Philippe de Martival? Yes.

Could he have had anything to do with what took place? Oh, no, no, of course not. Philippe de Mataval was an ancestor of mine, lived back in the days of the Norman conquest, over 850 years ago. Oh, no, he had nothing to do with all this. THE END

This is Mr. Oikane. Question. Do I believe in ghosts? Well, I'll tell you what I believe in. Nothing in nature is lost. You burn a match and it's not destroyed. It's simply transformed into another form. The human spirit on death, consciousness, all else, what becomes of them...

The orthodox religions have one answer, the non-believer another, but no matter what you believe, remember this. Nothing in the universe is ever truly destroyed, just transformed into another form. Could that form under unusual circumstances be what we term a ghost? I don't know. But I do know about our next week's story after a short message.

So, Mr. President, what does it mean to say love makes all things new again? Love makes all things new again? Well, you see, if somebody's down in the dumps, that means they're very sad. I'd say, I care about you. And then they go, peee-yum! Why is that? Well, when a person knows somebody cares about him, they just feel great. They just go, peee-yum!

Oh, I see. No, that's the same thing as love. What's the same thing as love? Caring about people. Well, suppose there were two people down in the dumps, Mr. President. Well, I'd just say, I care about you, I care about you, and go pew, pew.

Suppose 200 million Americans were down in the dumps, Mr. President. I'd say, I care about you, I care about you, I care about you, I care about you, I care about you, I care about you. Love makes all things new again. Hey, what was that? Another sound of love from the Franciscans. This is Archie over again.

Were you ever a boy or girl scout on a nature study trip? That's what our play is about next time. Only our people aren't children. They're a very special breed of very special human adults. But that's next time in Nature Study. It is later today.

Then you think. Adventures in time and space transcribed in future tense. The National Broadcasting Company.

In cooperation with Street and Smith, publishers of astounding science fiction, bring you Dimension X. In these times, even a child knows the meaning of atomic fission, jet propulsion, and electronic transmission. What, we ask ourselves, will the child of the future know? What of the time when science unlocks the secret of life itself?

Could it be that one day, such things as constructing human life or passing back and forth from one dimension to another will become mere child's play? No!

My name is Sam Weber. I'm an attorney and a pretty successful one, if I do say so myself. My wife, Tina, and I live in a comfortable 12-room place up in Westchester. Now, I've read a lot of Horatio Alger stuff in my time, and so have you probably, but I'll bet you've never heard anything quite as spectacular as my story. Maybe you won't believe it, but I used to be a completely different guy. Frightened, sickly, nearsighted, a real mortem of me. No kidding.

That was five years ago. The big change in me began to take place on a cold December morning in 1945. Just a moment, please. Yes, please. Weber? Yes. Samuel? That's right. Step back. Okay, fellas, bring it in. Oh, just a moment. You must have the wrong address. Watch it, buddy. All right, sign here. Is that for me?

Webber Apartments. Looks like a coffin. I don't design them, Jack. I just deliver them. Sign here. After much straining, I wasn't in very good physical shape those days, I managed to push the box under my single light bulb. There was a card in the small envelope. Let's see. To Sam from your classmates at the Interdimensional and Cosmic Institute. Merry Christmas.

2145 A.D. Holy jumping catfish. Hey, mister, there must be some mistake. Hey! Holy jumping catfish. They were gone, and I didn't even know which delivery company it was. Well, I finally decided to open it up and see what was in it. After about a half hour of fumbling, I gave up. All right, then, don't open. Oh!

No sooner had I said the word open than it came apart like the skin off a banana. There inside was something resembling a kid's chemical set. Vials, jars, tubes, wires. You never saw so much scientific-looking junk in your life. And on top of it all was a book of instructions. Build a man set number three. This set is intended solely for uses of children between the ages of 11 and 13.

The equipment will enable the child to build and assemble complete adult humans in perfect working order. A disassemblator is provided so the set may be used over again. Refills and additional parts may be acquired from the Build-A-Man Company, 928 Diagonal Level, Blount City, Ohio. Remember, only with Build-A-Man can you build a man. ♪♪

When I left for work that morning, my brain was still reeling with the stuff I'd read in the instruction book. Thomas has an old jack that he's at law. Just a moment, I will connect you with Mr. Old Jack. Oh, good morning, Mr. Webber. Good morning, Aunt. I mean, good morning. Good morning.

I've got to get my mind off that book. Only with Build-A-Man can you build a man. Chapter 1, Making Simple Living Things. Chapter 2, Duplicating Babies and Other Small Humans. Oh, no. I've got to get a grip on myself. Here, do a little work. O'Brien versus O'Brien. Harton versus the city of New York. Oh, it must have been a dream.

Probably go home tonight and find the place empty. Well, well, well, if it isn't the poor man's Clarence Darrow. Oh! Oh, hello, Lou. I come as a bearer of sad tidings. Well, you don't look very sad. The boss wants to see you laughing, boy. What about? How should I know? Oh, and by the way...

You'll be very happy to know that I've just been promoted. I'm handling all the criminal stuff from now on. Congratulations. You know what this means for Tina and me, don't you, Junior? Oh, well, cheer up. Tina's not for you anyway. Some got it, some don't. I got it, you don't. So long, laughing boy.

That was my good friend, Lou White. In the year I'd known him, he'd already managed to steal a job I wanted. And he was now working on the girl I wanted. Her name was Tina. Tina Velvet. Good morning, Sam. Oh, good morning, Tina. My, you look good enough to... Yeah? Take to lunch. Oh, I'm sorry, Sam, but I promised Lou. Oh, sure. I hope you're not too disappointed. Me? Oh, no, no. Some got it, some don't. I don't.

And that was Tina. I tried to steady my blood pressure as I walked into the boss's office. You sent for me, Mr. Rojack? Oh, yes. Sit down, Weber. Sit down. Oh, thank you, Mr. Rojack. Weber, I've been reviewing the work of my staff counselors for the past six months. I want to know only one thing. Yes, sir? What happened?

I don't understand. You haven't had a single new client in six months. But no one has come in, Mr. OJ. My boy, in this business, you've got to be aggressive. You've got to go out and create new clients. You've got to show some zip. Yes, sir.

Do you have any zip? Oh, yes. Yes, Mr. Rojack. Oh, I've got zip all right. I just can't seem to turn it loose. That's all. Well, get in there and punch now, Weber. I want to see a change in you in the next few months. As a matter of fact, I'd better. You got that? Yes, Mr. Rojack. I'll try to show some zip. I left the office early and went home.

Sure enough, there it was, my build-a-man set, gleaming a little obscenely in the corner. I walked over to it, gave it a kick, and hollered, Open sesame. Three minutes later, I was flopped down in bed, reading, Chapter One, Making Simple Living Things.

An hour later, I was fooling around with such complicated items as the Junior Biocalibrator, which measured everything from blood pressure to hemoglobin content, and the Jiffy Vitalizer, which was actually supposed to put life in your creation, providing you had followed instructions carefully. At 8.30, I made my first simple living thing. Here, boy. Here, boy. Oh, maybe you aren't a boy. Oh, let's see. Here.

According to the book, you are a rubicular oyster hog. Not much to look at, but I made you. Me, Sam Weber, attorney at law. I have created life. Hey, come back here. Come back. Here, boy. Here, boy. Hey, hey, hey. It was no use. My rubicular oyster hog, which was a cross between a field mouse and an oyster, had run out under the door and into the world.

I was about to take off after it when there was a knock on my door. It was Mrs. LaPante, my landlady. Oh, hello, Mrs. LaPante. I heard a noise. Oh, just rehearsing a speech I have to make in court. You were squinting. Bad throat. Oh.

Oh, by the way, there was a gentleman looking for you this afternoon. A gentleman? Yeah, a tall old man in a black overcoat. Kind of nasty. When I told him, there wasn't anyone to go up to your room. Tell you what, I showed him the way out in a hurry. Oh, thanks, Mrs. LaPandy. Probably a bill collector. Yeah. Well, I've got to run. Oh, good morning, Sam. Here's that memo on Rosenthal versus Rosenthal and also a letter for you.

What's the matter? You look tired. Well, I had a bad night. Your lumbago again? Yes, yes. Oh, say, by the way, your client was here again this morning. The client? Mm-hmm. Oh, it must be the same fella that called at my house the other day. Well, what did you tell him? Oh, I said you'd be in later. Oh, thanks. Um, will that be all, Sam? Yes. Oh, no, no, I, uh...

Are you doing anything New Year's Eve? Oh, Sam, you haven't even noticed. Noticed what? Well, the ring, silly. Third finger, left hand. What? Lou gave it to me. Isn't it simply gigantic? But you... You're not gonna... We're gonna be married as soon as Lou finishes his next case. Lou is so sharp and businesslike. So is a guillotine. Sam, after Lou gave me the ring last night, I began thinking how...

Well, how I used to hope that it would be you. But, well, then I realized you'd never have the money, and, well, a girl has to think of things like a good steady income and a husband with... Zip. Yes, with zip. Well, Lou has plenty of zip. I'm sure you'll be very happy zipping around with each other. Oh, Sam. Well, Sam, I... Hey. Hey, what's going on in here? Oh.

Honey, is that little baboon giving you any trouble? If he has, I'll take him apart like an egg crate. No, no, no. Take it easy, strong heart. Hina just told me the good news about your engagement. She's crying with happiness. Is that right, honey?

Well, then, no hard feelings, Sam. Just that the best man got the girl, you understand. Oh, say, by the way, we're having a little celebration at Sigali's tonight. Drop in and we'll live it up a little, huh? ♪♪

I went home feeling like a man who has been stuffed into a washing machine with the dial set at rinse dry. I was a failure. I walked over to the mirror for a heart-to-heart talk with myself. Nothing. That's what you've got, Sam Weber, in unlimited quantities. Nothing. We ought to just tear you down and start all over again. We ought to take your... Hey. Oh, no. No, not that again. But why not? Think of it.

A Sam Webber without the psychological problems you've got. A dynamic, uninhibited Sam who could win a girl like Tina by sheer magnetism. Then when it was all over, we could just take the old disassemblator and presto. And I can do it, too. Homosomal content. Check it.

Cerebral content. Maybe a little more id and a little less super ego. Limbs, eyes, hair, general endocrine reaction. Well, here goes. It's moving. Holy mackerel, it's alive. It's getting up. Say, I feel great. Oh, now, now, now, take it easy. Do you know who you...

Of course I do. I have all the thoughts you ever had up until the point I was vitalized. My brain is an exact duplicate of yours, except that I'm not all blocked up psychologically. It said in the instruction manual you'd be uninhibited. Say, this is all right. Oh, by the way, since we both have the same name, it'll simplify things. If I call you Weber, I'll be Sam. Oh, now look here. I'll make the decision. How would you like a good punch in the nose? Well, is that any way to talk to your own parent?

I did create you, you know. Don't think I don't appreciate it, Weber, old man, but let's get one thing straight. I live my life and you live yours. You got that? Who pays the rent? You do, for a while anyway. I haven't decided whether or not I want to stay in the law business. The law business? I may want to spread out a little. Tina's the kind of girl to whom money is very important. Tina? Well, what did you expect? I have enough of your likes and dislikes to want her just as badly as you do.

The only difference being that I can get her. No, we're not quite the same, you and I. I've got zip. Don't use that word. Now, how about some dinner? You know, I'm starved. I have to go out. I'll need some clothes. Sorry, I only have this one suit. Fine, you can lend it to me. What about me? I'll bring you a sandwich after I come back from Seagally's. Seagally's? Well, you haven't forgotten, have you, Weber? We're invited to the celebration. Tina and Lou White. Oh,

Only it wouldn't look quite right if we both showed up, so I'll tell you all about it. Now, off with that suit, and no nonsense. Well, this is living it up, folks. Yahoo! Yahoo!

Have another drink, Mr. O'Jack. Thank you, Lou. Well, is everybody happy? Hey, honey, are you having yourself a little old time? Oh, yes, Lou. Fine, fine. Yeah, but you seem to be preoccupied. Oh, I was just wondering if Sam is coming. Sam? Oh, no.

Did you hear that, Mr. Rojack? She's worrying about Sam. Why, that little runt probably got frightened by a noisemaker. Well, well, well, the happy couple. Sam! Good evening, cats. Everybody's lit up like a Christmas tree. Well, I'll be... Say, Sam, are you in the bag? Never touch the stuff, Luma boy. Never touch it, Boy Scout training. Oh, Sam, I was afraid you weren't coming.

Miss a chance to be with you, beautiful? Never. Hey, what's got into you, Weber? Monkey glands? I don't read you, muscle-bound. Well, you seem different somehow, even your voice. Do you notice anything, Tina? Well, yes, it does seem richer somehow. Ah, nonsense. Sam Weber, you're nothing but a clean puff and you always will be. Mr. O'Jack, I think he owes me an apology for that. I should think so.

All right, all-American boy, make with the apologies. Apologize me? Oh, no. Why, for two cents. Folks, would you excuse Mr. White and me for a few minutes? We want to step out into the hall for a little private conference. Coming, Mr. White.

I'll be right back, honey. Don't worry about a thing. Okay, big boy, you've taken enough punishment. Now! Sam! Lou! Lou, don't kill him. He did... Oh, dear. He'll be all right in a little while, baby. But did you? I mean... Oh, Sam. See now...

We really shouldn't kiss like this. It's what you've always wanted, isn't it? Well, isn't it? Oh, Sam. By this time, he's probably kissing her. And there's nothing you can do about it, Weber, old man. Nothing. Hey, wait a minute. Where's that book of instructions? To disassemble a Build-A-Man model...

Merely focus the ray of the disassemblator device and press lever X. But that's murder, Counselor. Still, legally, in order to prove there's been a murder, you need a corpus delecti. And nobody even knows there is another Sam Weber. Sam?

So you're finally home. I'm starved. Sorry, Weber, old man, but very pressing business detained me. I suppose you made a fool of me over at Cigali's. Oh, on the contrary. What do you mean? My boy, you are looking at a man who in one fell swoop has got himself a raise, a promotion, and a wife. At least she'll be my wife tomorrow. Who? Tina, of course.

I don't believe you. I had to put on quite a show, but all around it was a real success. Mr. Ojak was so impressed, he called me aside and said he was going to give me a crack at some criminal cases. And if I made the grade, why, who knows, I may even accept a partnership. You've got it all figured out, haven't you? That's about it. Only you neglected to consider one thing. Oh, what's that?

Hey, put that down. Get back, you. You usurper, you. I'm going to melt you down like a Welsh rare bit. Weber, you can't do that. It's murdery. It's like killing your own son. After what you've done to me, it's a pleasure. I didn't ask to be brought into this world, but now that I'm here, I like it enough to want to survive. Take off my suit, you phony. You won't be needing it again. You're really going through with it, huh? I am. I am.

All right. Oh, here's your jacket. Give me that thing. Give it to me. Spanner. Now we'll fix this little item so it can't do any damage. Oh, no. You see, Weber, you don't have the guts to stand up against the man you might have been. Oh, what's that sound? I don't know. Seems to be inside the house. Somebody's coming up the stairs. Listen.

Take a peek through the keyhole, Webber. Holy chump, it's him. The old man with the black coat. His eyes all black and shiny without any whites. Looks insane. Don't open it. He's burning it. He's burning a hole right through the door. Good evening, gentlemen. As I feared, I'm too late to prevent you from duplication, Mr. Webber. And I see that you have destroyed the disassemblator.

That means I shall have to do the job manually. An ugly task. Who are you? I am the census keeper for the 24th oblong. You see, your Build-A-Man set was intended for one of the Weber children who is on a field trip in this oblong 200 years from now. Because of an unfortunate time warp, the set was delivered here accidentally. You mean this set came here from 200 years from now? Precisely.

Time, as with all things, is relative...

We shall have to recover the set, of course, and adjust any discrepancies it has caused. Meanwhile, the problem is, which of you two gentlemen is the original Sam Webber? Oh, I am. Listen, I... Difficulties, difficulties. Why cannot I ever have a simple case like a double conuplication? Now, look here, Mr. Census Keeper. The duplicate will obviously be less stable and more emotionally unbalanced...

Certainly a man of your qualifications can decide which of us is the more valid member of society. Which of us will conform more readily to the standards of... Naturally...

I observe that one of you is naked. Oh, wait a minute. And you also seem to be trembling. Whereas this gentleman seems quite calm. Hold it. You're making a mistake. I hardly think so. No, stay away from me. Please do not struggle. Help. Please. Please. Mr. Webber. Yes. It would be better if you didn't watch. Of course. Oh.

Well, that's my story. Within ten seconds, the old Sam Webber had been completely dismantled and packed into the box. Tina and I were married, and I went on to become a full partner in the firm of O'Jack, Somerset, and Webber.

Oh, and by the way, Tina and I have been doing quite successfully, but the old Sam Weber and his build-a-man set made such a mess of. We have one, two, three little conuplications. Sam Jr., age four, Sametta, age three, and Samina, age four months. Good night. You have just heard another adventure into the unknown world of the future, the world of Dimension.

Time is a strange and mysterious dimension. Could we alter the future if we could travel back in time to our own youth? Next week, we bring you a story of a man who found the answer in Time and Time Again. Time and Time Again

Dimension X is presented transcribed each week by the National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Street and Smith, publishers of the magazine Astounding Science Fiction. Today, Dimension X is presented child's play, written for radio by George Lefferts from the story by William Tenn. Featured in the cast were Leon Janney as Sam, Carl Weber as his alter ego, and Patsy Campbell as his girl.

Your host was Norman Rose. Music by Bert Berman. Dimension X is produced by William Welch and directed by Fred Way. In reply to many queries from our listeners, last week's story on Dimension X, Pebble in the Sky, was written by Isaac Asimov. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company. Adam Hatch presents...

The Strange Doctor Weird. The Strange Doctor Weird.

Good evening. Come in, won't you? You seem a bit nervous. Perhaps the cemetery outside this house is a special place. But there are things far worse than cemeteries. Such things as dark, forbidding swamps...

stretching for hundreds of miles and inhabited by snakes and mosquitoes and alligators, as in the story I want to tell you tonight. The story I call Death in the Everglades. Death in the Everglades

My story begins in the vast, shadowy waste of the Florida Everglades. A small dugout slides through the dark swamp water, pulled along by a weather-beaten guide. The guide's passengers, Gerald Drake and his wife Kitty, sit nervously in the center of the dugout, adieu by their strange and uncanny surroundings.

Gerald, how much further do we have to go? It's been two hours now since we left the mainland. I'll see. Guys, how much further is it to my uncle's home? It ain't much further. Just a small piece. Gerald, are you sure your Uncle Jason has money? Well, up until my mother died a year ago, Uncle Jason was spending her $500 a month.

and he owns thousands of acres of valuable Florida property. If he has money, why should he choose to live here all alone in this horrible swamp? Because he's an eccentric. Oh, Daryl, please, let's turn back. This horrible, dark swamp with its alligators and snakes frightens me. Oh, the feeling that something dreadful will happen if we don't turn back. Don't be a fool, Kitty. We can't turn back. We're broke, do you understand that? Uncle Jason is our last hope. We must go on. Oh, dear.

Why have you come here, Gerald? Well, after all, Uncle Jason, I am your only living relative, and, well, I wanted to find out how you were getting along. Gerald worries about your living. You're alone in the swamp. I'll always live here in the swamp. Always.

Quietly, peacefully here. I have my friends. Your friends? Yes. You just see them as you came here. Singing in the trees, swimming in the water. I know them all. They're my friends. They protect me from harm like true friends do. Yes, yes, of course, Uncle. I just... I know why you come here. You want money.

That's why you come here, isn't it? Well, yes. You see, Uncle Jason, we... Get out! Get out of here! I won't give you a chance, not a chance! But, Uncle Jason, after all, you must remember that I'm your only... Leave my house at once! Get out! Oh, my God! The guide won't be back until four o'clock this afternoon to take us to the mainland. Ah. Very well, then. Why, stay here until he comes. I'm going out now, and when I come back at sundown, I don't want to find neither of you here!

What are you doing? Trying to break the lock on this metal cash box. Cash box? Yes, my darling. I sure talked with Uncle Jason to convince me that he kept his money someplace in this house. It wasn't.

too difficult to find his cash box. If my dear uncle won't part with his money willingly, he's going to have to part with it unwillingly. Hi, Chase, what are you doing with it? You're a bit early, aren't you, Uncle Jason? You're trying to rob me. You're like all the others. I won't let you rob me. Give me my cash box.

I don't like the two that I go dating, but I must have that money in the pen. Come on now. You'll make him kill me. You'll never get away with my buff. Give it. I'll send you to the swamp. You'll never leave the swamp. Never. I'll go. If you insist. Let go of him. Let go or you'll kill him. That's exactly what I'm doing.

You're the one who's never going to leave the swamp, Uncle. You're going to stay here with your friends forever while I go back to the mainland with your money. There!

You killed him. You killed him. What's the difference of this? Don't be a fool. I think when she comes looking for Uncle Jason, they won't find a trace. What do you mean? I'm going to get rid of him, dear Uncle Jason. Give me a hand with this body, Kitty. We're taking Uncle Jason to his friends.

How much further do we have to carry him? This is far enough, darling. Just set him down here. Here? I don't want to hit. Yep. You'll do perfectly. Stop his legs. That's it. There we are.

You are just going to leave him here, are you? Why, of course, darling. Uncle Jason's friends will look after him. His friends? Why, yes. Look over there. See him swimming his way? Elevators. Most are elevators. They're coming up out of the water. Yes, so they are. Look. All of them are crawling up along with Jason's body. Yes. Goodbye, Uncle Jason. Ah!

Our mystery will be continued in a moment. But, Dr. Weird, if you'll come over here, I have a mystery of my own. Mystery is my business, young man. All right, here's the clue. The number five. Five.

Five big men? No, I'm afraid you're wrong, Doctor. I'm talking about the famous Adam Five, the quality hat made of all-perfels, available at the thousands of Adam hat stores and authorized dealers all over the country for only five dollars. And it's far from dead. In fact, it's the liveliest number you've ever seen, mister. Why not step into an Adam hat shop and prove it to yourself?

Try on your size in a famous Adam's wise. Examine its snappy style, its lively color, the look of distinction. You don't have to be a master detective to see that in quality and style, an Adam's is America's top hat. Now, Dr. Weird. And now I'll finish my story, Death in the Everglades.

An hour after Uncle Jason's death, Daryl and Kitty sat on Jason's dock, waiting for the guide to arrive. While they waited, Daryl tried to break open the metal can box, but without success.

Suddenly, we heard a shout. Hello there! Sorry if I kept you folks waiting. You hop in the dugout. We're going all the way back to the mainland. We'll get back in a few hours. You don't want to be caught in this. What are you staring at? That box you got there. That's the box your uncle keeps his money in. I've seen it when he's given me money for provision.

What are you doing with it? That's my business, and I don't have to explain it to you. You do if you want me to take you and my jug out of the mainland. Perhaps this will help you change your mind about that. Of course. Now, if you value your life, you'll have us on the mainland within two hours. Two hours, you understand?

The two hours are almost up. Why haven't we reached the mainland? It's already dark. It's just a small piece beyond this island we're passing. Hey, kiddo. A few minutes, we'll be on the mainland. But, Sheriff, the guide will go to the local sheriff and tell him everything. Don't you worry about the guide. I'll take care of him.

and or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or or oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

i don't think that they are all we've got to get you know we're going to make a man for you and i don't think that he did already dot com before and i think that he's going to be one of the people like that but i think that's what we're not going to be any

I admit that we can't get out of the swamp tonight. All we have to do is stay right here in the dugout until morning. When it's lighted out. No, we'll never fall down, Will. Even the guys get lost in the Everglades sometimes. Anyway, can

Anyway, they won't have us, Poe. They'll stop us just like you. They won't stop us. Uncle Jason's friends. They deserve them. All around us. Waiting for us. Look down at the water. There's something wrong. The other day... Hey, you mustn't say that. We're going to make it, you hear me? And we'll be rich. There's a fortune in this cash box. Here, open it for me. Then you'll see how rich we are. Here. It's a hard lock to pull off. Maybe I can shoot it open. No.

Kitty, the lock's broken. Kitty, look! Money! Money? Yeah. It's 50, 100, 150, 200... 210. 210.

There's only $210 in that box. Yeah, but look, look. There's a paper in the box. It'll probably tell us where the rest of the money's hidden. Come on, let's look. Let's see. Ah, it's a real estate fee. $20,000. Assessed value... Assessed value... $1,000. $1,000.

Oh, it can't be. Your uncle was a wealthy man. He had money and land. He had $210 and 20,000 acres of worthless swamp. Stop it, Mrs. Gallop. Stand up, Karen. Look around you. 20,000 acres of worthless swamp. It's all your fault. And we committed murder together.

Kitty, sit down! Sit down! Have you turned a dugout over? We're lost in your vast kingdom full of snakes and alligators. Why don't you ask one of your loyal subjects how to get to the mainland? You wouldn't do that! Kitty, dig out! We're turning it over! Kitty? Kitty, are you all right? Yes, sir.

Where are you? Right now I'm hanging on the dugout. We're going this way. Did he... Did he let them trick me? They're making a bunch of shirts in the mainland. We can't be warned of doing what we have to in the mainland. Then it would be all the worse for them, then. All we have to do is light the dugout and... Something's up. Help me. Help me.

Kitty, where are you? What happened? No! No! Too bad about poor Gerald and Kitty, isn't it?

Such a nice young couple. It's so unlucky. How were they to know that Uncle Jason's cash box contained only a few hundred dollars and a fee for some worthless squawk land? And then to die in such a horrible way, only a few hundred yards from safety, in the jaws of Uncle Jason's friends, the alligators.

You know, it occurs to me that perhaps Uncle Jason buried his fortune someplace in the swamp. Perhaps he would be interested in going with me to the Everglades to search for him.

Oh, you have to go now. Too bad. But perhaps you'll drop in on me again soon. I'm always home. Just look for the house on the other side of the cemetery. The house of Dr. Weird. Dr. Weird.

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The symmetry caretaker and the ashen-faced, trembling young man make an odd pair as they stand by an open grave under the pale moon. In the grave itself is a coffin. The lid has been prized open, and inside, the corpse of a middle-aged man. The caretaker warns,

Oh, I've heard about blokes like you. Read about grave robbers. But never thought I'd come across one. Here, I've sent for the cops, young man. Don't you try no rough stuff. I'm a match for you any day. But you don't understand. I tried to save his life and now it's too late. Don't you give me that. This fellow was given a decent Christian burial. You've desecrated him. Desecrated, you say?

Isn't it desecration to bury a man while he's still alive? Yeah, yeah. What you talking about? You don't think people go around being buried alive these days, do you? I don't know what to make of you. I watched you this afternoon. I thought you looked a bit peculiar. I don't know what you was doing at a pauper's burial. You shouldn't have had a pauper's burial. You shouldn't have been buried at all.

I could have saved him. You'd better think up a good story. Something told me that you was up to no good. No, no, no. Don't you try any rough stuff. I've already warned you. I watched you. The police are on their way. Breaking open a coffin like that. I knew you was up to something, but I never thought... It's because... Because I let him get buried alive and I was ashamed. Let him get buried alive for a measly 50 pounds. Now he's dead. Hey, you come out of a loony bin or something...

Now that I've had a better look at you, you don't look like no grave robber. I'm not. Listen. What's he to you, this fellow we buried today, eh? Nothing. Except I'm responsible for his death. I touched him. He's cold. Cold as death. He's only been in the ground a few hours. They don't stay cold like that.

Sometimes we get an exhumation order. We have to dig him up, see. You'd be surprised how warm they get. He is dead, isn't he?

I mean, I brought this piece of mirror with me. There's no breath. Look. I don't have to look. He's been in the municipal morgue for two days. He's given a pooping spittle. Now then, what's it all about, young man? I want to go home. He was dead all right when they buried him. But not when the ambulance took him to the morgue. You see, I know. You know? Oh, is he a relative of yours? I never knew he existed until two days ago.

I've been trapping the streets looking for work. I didn't want to go home. If you could call that one-room bedsitter, let her and I occupy her home. It was still ringing in my ears, the things she shouted at me as I left them. I've come to the end of my tether. I've pawned everything. Look, look, even the wedding ring you slipped on my finger in the church. What did he say? And all thy worldly goods. That's a laugh.

you were going to share all your worldly goods were you well if you don't get some money or a job i'm walking out on you dear i'm walking out on you and i'll go and live with my sister at least i'll get some warmth and three square meals a day oh don't say that leo was it my fault that i fell sick then i'm not allowed to work in the factory anymore

I've tried, Lil. I really have. Everywhere I go, they look at me and say, no vacancies. Not my fault either. I warn you, Joe Harris, I can't take much more of this. I know, honey, I know. I'll get something today. Really, I will. I promise. It was a promise I couldn't keep. Hanging the pavement. Watching the dislike and fear in the eyes of the well-fed as they said it. No, thank you. Fear that one day they might become like me. And then I saw them.

I was cutting through Duke's lane. Nothing on either side except a huge big wall. He was a short, fat little man. Our steps were loud in the quiet thoroughfare. I don't know what he's stopping for. Does he think I'm like a caution? That I'm a gangster or something? I suppose I look like something that crawled out of a piece of cheese. What happened? Governor, are you all right?

It can't be. He's gone out. There doesn't seem to be any breathing. I wonder who he is. Let's see. It must have something in his pocket. A wallet. Clammy. All this money. Must be a thief. He quit here at least. Poor swine. What good is his money now? I'd better call a cop. If you don't get some money or a job, I'm walking out on you, do you hear? I'm walking out. There's nothing anybody can do for this poor swine.

I'll find him soon enough. What does a guard do in a case like this? Beat it, you fool. Beat it with the first decent money you've had in months. Somebody will find him. Run! Lil! Joe! Joe, you've got some money! That's right, Lil. Two five-pound notes, thirty-one-pound notes, and the rest in ten-bub notes. It all adds up, adds up very nicely. Fifty quid in all. Oh, Joe, honey! Joe!

Hi. How did you get this money? You didn't go and do anything silly, did you? Such as what? Rob a bank? I wouldn't know how to start. But how did you get it? You'll never believe it. Remember I told you that when I was in the sanatorium, there was a fellow there with the same lung trouble named Ted Brown? Yes. Well, I lent him a quid.

You lent him a quid while I was... Well, I was still drawing my wages, wasn't I? We didn't know that the doctor wouldn't let me go back to the factory. It wasn't so bad then. All right, all right. What about this Ted Brown? Well, I'll meet him in the street, see? Says he'd been looking for me everywhere. Wanted to repay me the quid. Go on. Well, we goes into a pub to have a drink. There was a bookie there and Ted said he'd had a hot tip for the double.

hit one lil 50 smackers oh joe 50 smackers oh i love you lil went to get some groceries and a couple of bottles of beer i sat on the bed and had a further look at the wallet having taken the money out i thought it would be empty

There were two pockets, both with plastic windows. The first held a card which said, Harold Maxted, 26 Fairleigh Street, Ormsy. And then I looked at the second plastic window. There were strange words printed on a white card. It said, I am not dead. I'm subject to a form of cataleptic illness which may appear to cause death. If I'm found, notify Dr. Alfred Miller, Ormsy, 6641. No, it can't be.

Not dead. Cataleptic. What have I done? What have I done? They'll think he's... Oh, no. Telephone. I must telephone. But Leo, she'll wonder where I've gone. I've given her all my money. Here you are, darling. Take a look at this. Here, suck these bottles from me, will you? Jack? Jack?

What is it? What time is it, darling? I don't know. The pub was just opening. Just after six, I should say. Why? Give me ten bob. Do you get any change? I need some silver. I have to telephone. I won't be long, love. What is it? Well, I've... I've just got to telephone someone. You're not going gambling, are you? You haven't got the bug. You're not betting on tomorrow's races or anything like that, are you, Joe? There are all those bills to be paid. I know, love. I know. No, I'm not gambling, but I need it, please. I'll be back in a little while. It's just that... Please, Leo. All right. All right.

Here you are. Joe! It's all right, love. Would I be too late with the phone call? Would they bury this poor guy in Maxted not knowing he was a cataleptic, thinking he was dead? Come on.

This is even more of the doctor's consulting room where he's been. Come on.

Hello? Can I speak to Dr. Miller, please? Dr. Miller's gone abroad. He's been away for the last six weeks. Abroad? Oh, no. Have you taken over his practice, sir? No, I'm not a medical man. But if you're in need of a doctor, there must be plenty. No, no, isn't that... You don't know which hospital Dr. Miller was at? I'm afraid I can't help you. I must go. My wife's shouting. The dinner's on the table. I'm sorry. Thank you. Thank you.

And then another thought seared my brain. A hole in the ground. A long wooden box and the man being buried. Being buried alive. And a shovel heaping earth on the wooden boards. They said there must be a Maxted in a telephone directory. There was. Fourteen Maxteds. Everyone alive and bad-tempered.

No, I have no relatives who suffer from a cataleptic illness. There are plenty of other Maxes in the book. Try them. I have. You're Mr. Zachariah, Max said. You're the last on the list. Well, I can't help you. What now? Do I go along to the police and say, look, I stole a man's wallet. Somebody might be shoving him in six foot of earth. What do I do? I decided to sleep on it. Sleep? That's a laugh. Oh, that...

And in the beyond...

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Joe Harris had better do something about it pretty soon. Otherwise, the poor, unfortunate, cataleptic gentleman will be stiff with the cold. But let us see what he does do. Dove? I didn't know what to do.

It was less than six hours since I saw that chap fall. Maybe he's still there. Maybe if I go back to Duke's Lane, he'll still be lying there. Joe? Oh, sorry, I didn't want to wake you up. It's the middle of the night. Where are you going? I won't be long. No, Joe, you're not going anywhere. I thought you'd been acting strange. Joe, I know I've nagged you and threatened you, but it was only because you were getting so down, so beaten. I love you, Joe.

I don't want you to be doing anything that will put you in prison. It isn't that at all. Well, what is it? All right, Lil, I'll tell you. And then you'll see why I have to go. And so I told her. Told her the whole story of how I robbed a man I thought was dead. A corpse that had no use for the 50 quid in his wallet. So you see, I've got to find him. I'll find out where they've taken him. They'll think he's dead, Lil. No.

Joe, somebody will have found him by now. He's probably lying in bed fast asleep. People who have these sort of fits soon recover. No, they don't. After I'd phoned all the Macs as I could, I went into the Hornsby Library and I looked it up. Unless they get assistance, they can stay that way for days. By then, they'll... they'll bury him. And do you know what that makes me? A murderer. I'm letting a man die for 50 quid. Oh, no, Joe. Why don't you phone the police station? Why don't you phone the Hornby Police Station? Tell them the...

Oh, no, Joe. No, you can't do that. They'll call you a thief and put you away. Look, I'm getting dressed. I'm coming with you. Where did you say it was? Give me the phone. Joe, let's pray he's still there. That might be worse. He might have died for lack of attention. Let's pray someone saw him and they took him to hospital and they realized he wasn't... wasn't dead. He's a cop.

It's a bit nippy this time of the morning, isn't it? Go off night work, are you? Yeah, that's right. There was a little commotion in Duke's Lane a few hours ago, so my friend Phyllis told me. Something happened in Duke's Lane. Oh, yes, yes. Just before I came on duty. Postman saw a bloke lying in the lane here, dropped dead. Dead? Sure he's dead. So the police surgeon said. Why? Know anything about it? No. No, we don't know anything about it. It was just a...

Well, we wondered if it was anybody we knew, that's all. Oh. Well, I believe they've identified him, all right. If you knit round to the station, they may be able to tell you. Oh, I don't think it's anybody we know. Come on, lad. It's too cold to stand here chatting. Let's go off to bed. You two married? Yes. Then you should have been in bed ages ago. Good night. Or rather, good morning. Let's go to the police station, then. No, Joe, no. You'll have to explain about the wallet. What?

Besides, this policeman doesn't really know. Please come home. But, Lil... It's no good, Joe. We're going home. Come on. Have some more coffee, Joe. No, thanks. Lily, it's no good. We've got to go to the police. We're committing murder. It's two days now. I didn't sleep a wink all night last night. Kept having nightmares. Hearing Maxted's voice pounding in my brain. Pounding in my brain.

Telling me to save him before it's too late. You're the only one that can save me, Alice. They're burying me this afternoon. They're putting me in a coffin and they're going to cover me with earth. If you allow this to happen to me, you're a murderer, Joe Harris. A murderer, do you hear? You'll be punished.

Honey. Honey. He kept saying I'd be punished. If you said yourself, it's only a nightmare. All right, don't you go, I will. I'll say that I know... What was his name? Maxted. Harold Maxted. I'll say I know him and he's a cataleptic. That's it. I'll go there, right away.

Excuse me? Hello. Aren't you the young lady I saw down Duke's Lane the other night? Yes, that's right. Oh, I'm so glad you're here. You know we were talking about someone who dropped dead that afternoon. Well, were you able to identify him? Yes, we were able to identify him, all right. Why? He's a cataleptic. He's not really dead, you know. Oh, don't be funny. I've got the card here. They're burying him this afternoon. He's in the Orns in Mortuary. Cardiac failure. Cardiac failure.

This is the release for the body for him to be buried. Signed by the police surgeon, Dr. Herbert Spencer. He may have been a cataleptic. I don't know about that. But he died of heart failure. Being buried in a pauper's grave at Hornsey Cemetery, three o'clock this afternoon. Didn't die of heart failure, indeed. Not dead. Oh, well, maybe I'm being a bit silly. Thank you, Constable. Good night.

Sure, you said. The death certificate was signed by the police surgeon. Oh, what did that copper know about cataleptics? Had the doctor known he was a cataleptic? I'm going to stop the video. You can't, Jo. You can't. Once you tell the police about that wallet... Where are you going, Jo? I don't know. Kept drunk. I don't know anything anymore. Even my glass of beer went so in my mouth. I bought it with blood money. The blood that had was mixed in. I left the pub and walked.

So they were burying him in a pauper's grave, were they? I didn't ask my feet to move towards the cemetery. It seemed as though they didn't belong to me. They were burying him as I got there. A minister, a gravedigger, and an old man. Obviously the caretaker, plus a police sergeant. I wanted to shout, "Don't! Don't put him in that grave! He's not a corpse, he's alive!" Those three stripes on a copper sleeve seemed to represent a number of years I might get for stealing and for withholding information.

I ran from the cemetery as though I were running from the vengeance of Maxted himself. Hello, Joe. They buried him, the last time I saw them do it. A cheap wooden coffin. Oh, maybe it's a good thing the coffin was a cheap one. Maybe the death watch speaker got it in. Maybe there are holes in it. Maybe the poor swine will be able to breathe.

Fifty measly knicker. Fifty rotten pounds. I've turned myself into a murderer. You, Lilith, they'll nab you too. They'll say you were part of a conspiracy. What have I done to you? What have I done to us? Nothing, Joe. All right, so you pinched his wallet when we were both starving. No one can have you up for murder. It's beside the point now, isn't it, Lil? He's down there struggling for breath, isn't he? He won't be struggling for long.

I don't know anything about cataleptics, but you can't be nailed inside a coffin underneath six foot of earth for long. Look out the window, Lilith. It's got dark already. It's winter, Joe. I know the grave, Lilith. I'm going back. But Joe... You're not going to stop me, Lilith. I'm going back and I'm going to get him out of that grave. Please, Lilith. I've got to. All right, Joe. I'll come with you. Oh, no, no. I couldn't bear that.

I've got to do this on my own. Suppose... Suppose he's too heavy for you. You're not strong, Joe. It's a pauper's grave, Leo. They didn't take much trouble with him. Why, a pauper? With all that money in his wallet. That makes it worse, doesn't he? Maybe they couldn't raise his relatives. What with his doctor gone away and everything. Here, Leo. Get me that hammer out of the drawer. It's got that thing at the end for taking nails out. And that piece of mirror. All right. Here. I hope you're right.

But you know what you're doing. It's the only way, Leo. The only way. So here I am and it's too late. He's dead, all right. Blimey, young man, I wouldn't be in your shoes, not for nothing. Hey, just a minute. What did you say this bloke's name is? Maxted. Harold Maxted. Oh, no, it's not. What? This bloke's name is Sidney Fraser. Are you sure it's the same bloke? Positive. Positive?

No, it's the same bloke. His accusing face follows me around, sleeping and waking. Oh, you young man, yeah. Come and have a look with me. We don't give them much of a tombstone, these paupers. Tell you what. Sidney Fraser. Born February the 6th, 1920.

Died December 4th, 1967. Well, I've told you everything. They've given him the wrong name. You better tell that to the police constable. Oh, I'm sorry about this, young man. I warned you. I thought I was too old to tackle you on my own. When you started opening that grave, I ran to the cemetery office and phoned the police. Oh, well, it's almost a relief in a way. Hello. What's going on here? Oh, it's you again.

Your missus was in the police station this morning with some nonsense about... Huh? Digging up a grave, are you? There's something fishy going on. When I told my sergeant that your wife came in and said we were burying someone who's a cataleptic and not dead, he nearly strangled me. Said I should have taken full particulars. So I ought to charge her both with causing a public nuisance.

This fellow, Sidney Fraser, has had our trouble for years. Sometimes an ordinary hospital had the pleasure of his company. More often than not, it was a prison hospital. Our police sergeant warned him that he hadn't got long to live. And your wife comes in with a cock-a-bull story about burying him alive. As if we didn't know him. Sidney Fraser. In his day, he was the finest pickpocket in Ornsey.

Pickpocket? Why, only the other day we had a complaint from Mr. Maxted that someone had stolen his wallet. The bloke jostled him at a bus stop and then started running. From his description, we knew it was Sid. He picked Maxted's pocket.

He wasn't a cataleptic. He was a pickpocket. Yes. You'd better pull yourself together. What are you doing here, and why is this grave open? Oh, that's all right, Constable. Our young friend here got a bit mixed up. I opened the grave to show him he was mistaken. Then why did you ring the police saying there was a suspicious character lurking in the cemetery? Well, seems I was mistaken, that's all, Constable.

In fact, we were both mistaken. Weren't we, young man? Big pocket. Cataleptic. Well, well, well. Somebody should have told Joe Harris.

that lifting wallets from cataleptic gentlemen is a most grave offense. In fact, it is likely to incur a most stiff penalty. ♪♪

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Through the creaking door, of course. The manufacturers of State Express 3-5 Spilter King cigarettes invite you to listen next Saturday at 9 o'clock when they will again present... The Creaking Door. The Creaking Door.

Are you Dr. Turner? Yes, I am. Could I see you, please? It's very important. Well, couldn't it wait until tomorrow? I mean, you know, it's very late. Well, after 11... Well, it's very important, Doctor. I'm sorry to trouble you, but... Oh, all right, then. You see, Doctor, it's like this. My name is Blaine.

Perhaps that means something to you. Well, as a matter of fact, no, it doesn't. Horatius Blaine? Horatius Blaine. Wait a minute. Horatius Blaine. Yes, I seem to remember. Yes, yes. Yes, there was a Horatius Blaine found dead at Glenvale. And, if I remember correctly, I examined the body. And? An accident, if I remember. Yes. Yes.

It wasn't an accident, Doctor. Horatius Blaine was murdered. Oh, come now, now. Wait a minute. I know, Doctor. Because I am Horatius Blaine. I know what happened that night. You are... Oh, this is ridiculous. Is it, Doctor? Is it ridiculous? Look at me. Go on, look at me. I was the man you examined, wasn't I? Wasn't I, Doctor? I stared at the wild-eyed man opposite me. I stared and I remembered...

This was the man, but he was dead then, there was no doubt at all. And now he was here in my consulting room in the middle of the night, and I felt an unpleasant prickling at the base of my spine, and fear edged all around me as I faced this man who was dead.

Time, the silent herald of life and death, success or failure, the unseen force that measures man's destiny, reaching its most fateful moment as it slowly strikes the 11th hour. Time.

I remember thrusting aside the fear. I had to be sensible about this, because obviously there was a reasonable explanation. There must be.

He almost sensed the conflict raging in me. I can't accept it, Miss Helf, Doctor. Oh, but this is ridiculous. Now, now, come along. Come along, my good man, and sit down and tell me the real story. All right. Thank you. Well, I was murdered by Marwick and that woman. I remember it all clearly, but I could do nothing. Marwick was very strong, and they rigged everything to make it look like an accident. They were very clever, the two of them, but...

And of course they always have been. You must tell the police. But why don't you? They won't listen. You've been to them? Hundreds of times and more. But they wouldn't listen. And what did they say? They wouldn't listen to me. They brushed me aside as if I didn't exist. So then I came here to you. I see. Let's go to the police together tomorrow and I'll explain. They will listen. It's no good, Doctor.

You must go to Marwick. You must accuse him and that woman of murder. Now, look here. I can't go to them. Oh, but you must. Why don't you? You just don't understand, do you? And I hoped you would. Of all people, I thought you could help me. Now, listen to me, Mr. Blaine. Come round and see me tomorrow at eleven, and we'll both go to the police. Oh, it's...

It's no use. And you know, there's another thing. You look to me particularly healthy and strong. Now, if you'd been murdered, you'd be dead, wouldn't you? I am, Doctor. I am. Mr. Blaine, I've seen a good many dead people. And I promise you that you don't fit the description at all.

Now, please follow my suggestion. Come here at 11 tomorrow and we'll follow this business through the correct channels. You don't believe me? You don't? It's all so hopeless. No one believes. There's no one. What can I do to make you... What can I do? I'm really feeling very tired and if you come tomorrow as I suggested, I'll do all I can to help you then. No one believes.

No one believes. I opened the door and the tiny figure stumbled away into the night. And I remember watching him. And in the light of a street lamp he turned, his eyes dark and reproachful. It was then that I heard Helen beside me. Darling, what are you standing here for? It's terribly late. Well, that character over there, you see him? That's odd. He's gone. He was standing under that street lamp and...

Now, he's gone. Well, anyway, if he's to be believed, he's dead. Peter, what are you talking about? According to him, he's one Horatius Blaine. Now, the last time I saw him, he was lying dead from injuries received in an accident. You mean the man you've just seen is the same person? He can't be, obviously, but it is intriguing because, you see, they're identical. Oh.

I know, I know. If he's dead, he's dead, and that's the end of it. These can't be the same person, obviously, but they are alike. In fact, my dear, it's quite uncanny. What did he call about? To tell me he was murdered by someone called Marwick. Of course, he's a crackpot. People seem to go that way sometimes and pester their unfortunate doctor.

Oh, dear. I'm so tired. What did you tell him? Well, to call again tomorrow at 11 o'clock when this affair will be handed over to the police. You know, you've got to placate them. It's no good telling him that he's crazy. It's odd, isn't it? Yes, it's very odd. Now, don't you go worrying about this, darling. The thing is, Peter... Yes? The thing is, why did you answer the door in the first place?

Answer the door? Well, the fellow knocked, of course. But he didn't, Peter. What? He didn't knock. You were sitting in that chair there, reading. Then suddenly you got up and went into the hall. I came out to look for you, and you were standing at the door there. You said something about a man under the streetlight. I didn't hear anything or see anyone. My dear Helen, I heard the fellow clearly, and I saw him clearly.

He did knock, and I took him through to my consulting room. I did. I'm not a fool, and I certainly don't suffer from delusions. He told me his name was Horatius Blaine. Now, I ask you, would I make up a name like that, would I? He mentioned someone called Marwick, and there was some talk of a woman as well. Oh, well. Oh, let's forget about it, shall we? Come on, darling. Let's go up to bed. I followed Helen slowly up the stairs...

I kept telling myself, and it was a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this. Then I consoled myself with the thought that I would never see the strange Mr. Blaine again. He would be pestering some other doctor in the morning. But I was wrong there. I was so very wrong. Last night... Your mysterious visitor. Oh, uh, Blaine...

Great heavens, I've forgotten all about him. Liar. You were talking to yourself about him in the bath. I wasn't. Oh, but you were. I heard you. Blame, blame, blame. You said the name a dozen times. You know what I think we should do? We should forget all about it. The man's a crackpot. Well, it would be intriguing to investigate, now wouldn't it? Investigate? Investigate what? His murder. Oh, Helen.

The Horatius Blaine I examined was not murdered. He died from severe injuries. Great Scott, the police were quite satisfied. McNaughton was on the job and he's a sensible fellow. All the same, let's investigate just in case. It would be interesting, wouldn't it? I haven't the time to play detective and no more will I allow you to do so. All I want to do is to find out if there was a man called Marwick associated with Blaine.

That's all? Look, my dear, you're pathetic. Oh, but Peter. You're only wasting your time. Now, please, Helen, stay out of all this, will you? If Blaine comes to me at 11 o'clock today, we'll go to the police and let them sort this out. And I'll tell you exactly what happens. But, darling, I... Now, please don't argue. Yes, Peter. I remember waiting at 11 o'clock, half in trepidation for Blaine to arrive. But he didn't. And I confess it, I felt relief.

I felt this lets me out of a lot. Well, it was at dinner that night that Helen spoke of him again. He didn't call, did he, Peter? You mean Blaine? Of course. No, but I... I didn't really expect him to. Just proves what I said in the first place. The fellow's a crackpot. There is a resemblance to the other Blaine, but that is possible. Perhaps he's a brother or something. Anyway, it does let me out of a great deal of unpleasantness. I checked about, Marwick. You...

Did what? Checked about Marwick. But, Helen, I... Darling, I had to, and I'm glad I did. I phoned every Marwick in the telephone book. Goodness sake, why do that? Because I felt it our duty. Our duty is to mind our own business, not get involved with some crazy eccentric with a chip on his shoulder. More than likely, Blaine has some feud on with Marwick. Oh, Peter, I wish you'd let me tell you what happened. All right, well...

This particular Marwick is G.L. and he lives in Burnham Terrace. He answered the telephone. And when I asked him if he knew Horatius Blaine, he paused before he answered. Then he said, very carefully and cautiously, "Who is that speaking?"

Of course I didn't let on. And then he threw down the receiver. And what does that prove? It proves that he does know Horatius Blaine. It proves that there might be some truth in what your visitor told you. Oh, my dear Helen. But that's not all. All right, go on. I went to Burnham Terrace. You did what? Now just keep calm, Peter, and listen to me. You went there?

I pretended I was canning out a survey for a detergent manufacturer. Oh, this beats anything. It's a broken-down sort of a district, and the house looked deserted. I knocked, and the woman opened the door. Oh, I asked her a few questions. Then I inquired if Horatius Blaine lived there.

She gasped with sheer terror and slammed the door in my face. Oh, you shouldn't have risked doing a thing like that, Helen. You must have been crazy. Anyway, I'm satisfied that your visitor might have been speaking the truth. Helen, do you realize what you're saying? Do you? Yes, I do, Peter. I know what I'm saying. That the man who called last night was Horatius Blaine. And he was dead.

I stared at her. She spoke quite calmly. I could scarcely believe my ears. Was this really Helen talking? Don't you see what it means, Peter? Helen, what are you suggesting? I don't understand this, Peter. Not for a single moment. But I'm sure Marwick and that woman did kill Blaine.

It all works out, now doesn't it? It's crazy and it's unhealthy. Now, please forget it. You're frightened, aren't you, Peter? Yes, yes, I am, I suppose. I don't like thoughts of ghosts. In any case, they don't exist. They can't exist. I'm sure there's some perfectly reasonable explanation for all this. What are we going to do? Well? What on earth can we do? I ask you that, Helen. I can't go to Marwick and accuse him of murder...

In any case, I dare say the pharaoh's quite innocent. But he did act strangely. Well, perhaps he was surprised at you asking for blame. There are dozens of explanations. I'm going to see Inspector MacNaughton.

You'll be wasting his time. At least I will be doing something to help Blaine. Help Blaine? Don't you see? Don't you see? That's why he came to you last night. Because he wants help. He needs help. I suggested he call on the police, but he said they won't listen to him. There you see, Peter. That proves it. They won't listen. That doesn't prove a confounded thing to me. All right, then.

I'm going to MacNaughton. Go to him, then. Do what you like. It's obvious that you won't listen to me. I wish you'd realize, Peter, that this is something I've got to do. Well, Mrs. Turner, this is a pleasure. Sit down. Do sit down. Thank you, Inspector. Peter's told me I'm wasting your time coming here like this...

But I feel I should tell you this. Trouble of some kind? Do you remember Horatius Blaine? Horatius Blaine? Oh, yes, of course. Motor accident. Fatal. 14th of February. What about him? He called on Peter last night. He did what? Oh, I know you're going to think this is crazy, but it's true. He called on Peter to say he'd been murdered. But, Mrs. Turner, he was killed.

I saw him, there's no doubt at all. Absolutely none. It wasn't murder. He named a person called Marwick. Now, Inspector, I went to see the Marwicks. You went to see them? I mentioned his name and they were terrified. I'm sure they did kill him. Now, see here, Mrs. Turner... Oh, don't tell me this is ridiculous. That it's imagination? That you're sure there's some perfectly reasonable explanation for everything?

I tell you, those people did kill that most unfortunate man. But he couldn't have called on your husband. He did. Did you see him? Well, no, but Peter did and he talked to him. But you just told me that your husband doesn't believe. He does in his heart, but he's too afraid to acknowledge it. Oh, Inspector, you must go round to these people. And accuse them of murder?

Mrs. Turner, that's as much as my job's worth. If you receive an accusation from someone, you must investigate it, mustn't you? Well, we do make inquiries, yes. All right, then. I'm telling you that Horatius Blaine was murdered by Marwick. Now, you've got to do something about this. It's highly irregular and, I believe, irresponsible. You know, Mrs. Turner, you can't make these accusations without any foundation in them at all. Please, Inspector...

Oh, honestly. No, but all right. I'll do it. Though heaven knows I'm making a fine fool of myself. Well, what do you want? A few questions. I've got nothing to say to the police. Now get out.

Go on before I set the dogs on you. I'm coming in. Stand aside. A very fine way to treat a lady, I'm sure. Pushing her aside. What's going on, Sean? Police officer. And full of cheeky as too. Police officer? What the devil do you want? A few questions about one Horatius Blair. Never heard of him. Now come on, officer. Push off. There's nothing for you here. Talk about the rights of folk in a free country.

Pushes his way in. Bruises me arm. You see? You see? Finger marks. Oh, I'll have something to say about this. Just you wait. I'm given to understand that you knew Blaine. That you knew him well. I've never heard of him. Like I said. Yet this was the address given to us. And your name is Mowick. Must be some mistake. Who gave you our address? Oh, I know.

Some nosy little blonde who called round here with her sly looks and her questions. That'll do, Sean. Now, push off, mister. You're on the wrong tack this time. There's the door. That's right. There's the door. And you tell that little blonde to try and pin the murder on to someone else but leave us alone. Watch your talk. Well, all I was saying was that... I told you to keep quiet. Now do just that. Oh, you hit me. I hit you and I'll do it again. Easy does it, Marwick.

You asked me who told me to come here. Yes. Yes, that's right. Who told you? Blaine himself. But Blaine is dead. I tell you, he's dead. I know. But how do you? I haven't mentioned anything about Blaine being dead. Not a word. Oh, she... she read it in the paper, mister. It was in the paper. An accident. So he couldn't have called on you. On the contrary, he did. Although he was dead.

He accused you and this woman here of his murder. No. No, it isn't true. It isn't. Now watch yourself, John. If you're going to break, you'd better get out. And that's final. She's staying here, Marek. Yes. Blaine called on me and told me quite a story. I told you not to do it. I told you.

I said leave him be, but no. Oh, no. You wanted the cash, so you did it your way. Look, I told you to be quiet. I told you to keep your hands off her, Marie. He's a killer, he is. He is. He did it and rigged it like an accident. That's a lie. Oh, it's the truth. Now he's come back to haunt you. Good God. I said it was wrong. I did, Sergeant. I told him not to do it. I tried to talk him out of it, but I couldn't.

And now we're both in trouble up to the neck because of him. I'm getting out of here. Oh, no, you don't, Marwick. Stay where you are. There are some questions I would like to ask you. Well, that's how it is, Doctor. A full confession of murder. It's fantastic. We had no lead on them at all. Not an inkling.

And now we've got a fully-fledged murderer on our hands. There's no doubt at all? No doubt at all. The woman broke when she heard about Blaine, told us everything. It was some money they were after. Marwick killed him, then arranged the accident. It was all very clever, and it did fool us, I confess it. If Mrs. Turner hadn't forced the issue and insisted that I visit Burnham Terrace, they would have got away with it.

But there's a great deal I don't understand. For instance, did Blaine visit you? Yes, I think so. But you can't be sure, Doctor. Well, I was tired, Inspector. It had been a busy day. I seemed to talk to someone. Then, of course, perhaps I didn't. Anyway, Doctor Turner, you've done us a great service. Thank you. You can thank Helen here. It was all her idea.

I wouldn't have gone through with it. I still can't believe it all worked out the way it did. Lucky for us you insisted, Mrs. Turner. It was certainly lucky for us. Ah, well, I'd best be getting back to the station. I've still got a few loose threads to tie up. No, no, no. Please don't trouble to see me out. I know my way. Goodbye, Inspector, and thank you. What do you think it all means, Peter? I've no idea at all, none.

It couldn't mean anything. Do you think he did come that night? Perhaps. Or perhaps not. The more I think back, the less sure I am. Yet the name Malwick and everything, it does tie up. I believe he did come. I believe he wanted justice done. But for heaven's sake, Helen, why choose me? Me of all people. I don't believe that stuff.

I'm a practical man of science. I deal in facts, plain and simple facts. I like things I can see and feel and understand. The rest, I... Well, I... I don't know. I just don't know. Yes, it was an ideal ending, wasn't it? We couldn't have worked it out any better if we tried, could we now? I believe Horatius Blaine had a perfect revenge. And I'm glad for his sake.

Helen took my arm, and we both sat there, busy with our thoughts. Of course, Helen was right. The little man had the perfect revenge. But I'll never fully understand. Time. The silent herald of life and death. Success or failure.

The unseen force that measures man's destiny, reaching its most fateful moment as it slowly strikes the eleventh hour. ♪♪

Getting impatient for baseball season to start? Have a touch of spring fever? Want to get away from it all? We offer you escape. You are in mid-ocean, aboard a jinx ship. Already nine men have died. And you know that some malignant force is aimed at you from which you cannot escape. ♪♪

Escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, we escape to the North Atlantic in the year 1900 and to a sailing ship whose very name struck dread in sailors' hearts, as Joseph Conrad told it in his famous story, The Brute. ♪♪

You could never tell it just by looking at her. Proud and strong and beautiful on the outside. You couldn't see the black heart inside of her. And you'd never know, she'd killed at least a dozen men and maybe more. But I knew her. Knew her for the murdering she-devil she was.

I saw the day she killed her first one, and I was there too when she finally made a big mistake and killed the wrong person. But that was a long time later. Well, she had a name all right, but after that first day, her first killing, nobody with the family ever used it again. Everyone else from that day on would look at her half afraid and half snarling, and they called her the brute. The Brute

I remember I was 14 the day my father took me down to the South Thames boatyard to watch the launching of the ship. My brother Charlie was there, of course. Eight years older than me and very proud of his one gold stripe. Now that he'd be made an officer on the apps line, Charlie and father were talking. I just stood and listened to them and didn't say much of anything myself. Look at her, Dad. Ever see a ship in your life with lines like that? I bet you'll out-sail any clipper in the China trade. Well, that remains to be seen, Charlie. How soon are they going to launch her? Any minute now.

Oh, I'd give a lot to be sailing on her, instead of on the Malcolm Apps. Well, the Malcolm's a good ship, son. As good a ship as any the Apps family owns. I'm not kicking. I'm glad enough to be through apprenticeship and get my commission. But even at that, I'd almost rather be a bosun on this ship than a paired mate on the Malcolm. I understand that Colchester's to be her captain. Yes, that's right. Oldest commander with the Apps and Sons line. Look at the size of her, Dad.

She's a full 2,000 tons. Less half a ton, Charlie. Oh, good morning, Mr. German. Hey, Mr. Wilmott. Hello, Ned. How do you do, sir? No, Charlie, she came to 1,999 and a half when we measured her up. Well, 2,000 tons or not, Mr. German. You'll never build a better ship than this one. I don't know, Charlie. I built her the way Mr. Ops once did. She's big and she's stout, but...

I don't know. And what's your reason for saying that, sir? No reason that makes any sense. About the devil's own time with her. Cabin doors jamming when they shouldn't. Edge covers that wouldn't fit after they'd been measured up. Blocks fouling for no reason at all. I don't know, Mr. Wilmot. But if she were a human being...

I'd say that maybe she's insane. Oh, come now. You've been working too hard, Mr. German. Better take a vacation now that she's finished. Well, I could certainly use... I say, that's Maggie Colchester up there, the captain's niece. Is she going to do the christening? That's right, Charlie. And I'd better get down below now. My own men are going to knock the stays loose and let her slide down into the water. Well, good luck, Mr. German. Thanks, Mr. Wilbert. Come on board for the celebration after she's lodged. Bring the boys. Fine, thank you. We should be there. Let her go any minute now.

Dad, I'm going to sail on that ship someday. Oh, you'll probably sail on a lot of apps, Lion ships, before you're through, Charlie. Look, look, they're giving Maggie the champagne now, and she's going to Christmas. Yes, listen. I christen thee the Apps Family. The Apps Family. So that's what they're naming her, eh? All right, men, knock out the... Look, Dad, she's starting to move. There she goes. Yes, and look at that speed. I never saw it. German, look out!

Good Lord, he fell right into the ways and she... She went over him. He didn't fall. A timber rolled off the deck and knocked him under. She slid right over him, Mr. Jermyn, the man who built her. She's lost in blood, if that means anything. She's a brute and a murderess now, Charlie. Still think you'd like to sail on her? It was an accident. It doesn't mean anything. Perhaps not. I'll sail on her someday, sooner or later. I will sail on her. I will sail on her.

Well, the way things worked out, I was the one to sail on her first instead of Charlie. He'd gone on out to the Orient aboard the Malcolm. And six months later, when I started my apprenticeship, I found the company had assigned me to report to Captain Colchester on the Apps family, or the Brute, as everybody was calling it privately.

There was some kind of mix-up in the sailing orders, and by the time I came on board, a tug already had a line on the big sailing ship and was starting to ease her stern first out into the channel. All right now, ease ahead there. Pick up the slack. Captain Colchester was at the tap-rail shouting orders to the tug captain, and the mates were forward somewhere, handling the check line. You've got the slack now, hold on.

All away! I stood at the waist, waiting for a chance to report in and watching a young fellow about my own age who was doing something or other up aloft on the mizzenmast above me. The tug had drawn the line out taut, but the ship hadn't started to move yet. You've got no way on her yet. Hurry your engine up to full speed. The tug was churning the water to froth and the hosier was tight as a bowstring, but we still didn't move. Keep her up!

Then suddenly the ship gave a lurch and started back like a bucking horse. The men forage had no chance to ease the kick-check cable and a second later it snapped. The ship plunged on back and then sheared off a smash against the pier head that knocked me sprawling on the deck. And at that moment...

The lad who'd been working aloft on the mast crashed down onto the deck not ten feet away from me. And he lay there without moving. Give a hand up. Get out of my way, Spade. Young Hawkins just fell out of the tops. That's too bad. Is he dead, Captain Colchester? He's dead, boy. Now get a hold of yourself. Don't stand there trembling. You never seen anybody die before? Yes, sir. On the day they launched this ship. Germaine, eh? You're young Ned Wilmot, I suppose. The new apprentice. Yes, sir.

No doubt you may have heard this ship called by an unpleasant name once in a while. Yes, sir. The Brute. Well, you'll be kind enough to remember while you're aboard that her name is the Apps family and she's had her share of accidents the same as any other ship. Is that quite clear? Yes, sir. Get along forward with you and stow your gear away on the folks. You'll take over young Hawkins' duties for the time being. Yes, sir.

I sailed aboard the Brute for the next four years and watched her kill nine men during the time. We got so we tried to outguess her, try to figure how she'd do it the next time. But no matter what we think, we never were right. And it wasn't only the killing. It was everything. Most ships have little ways all their own, and you learn about them and allow for them. But not her. She was like a crazy woman. You never knew what she'd do next.

I remember once off the Gold Coast, she ran before a gale for two days as pretty as your please. And then broached to twice in the same afternoon, flung the helmsman clean over the wheel the first time, and the second time swamped herself fore and aft and split out every stitch of canvas. And after we got the decks cleaned up, we found one seaman had gone overboard. He was her fifth, I guess it was. Or maybe the sixth.

Oh, she was beautiful, the Abt's family was. Big and proud and beautiful. And along with it, a killer. A black-hearted, sea-going brute. My brother Charlie was on the China run all that time. First on the Malcolm and later on the Lucy Abt's. But we never happened to hit port on the same time. Finally, the time of my apprenticeship was up. We boomed into London at the end of the trip. I went before the board for my papers.

I guess they figured anybody who could stay alive for four years on the brute must be a seaman. Anyway, I passed. Mr. Apps handed me my sailing orders along with the commission. I was assigned as third mate to Captain Colchester on the Apps family. Well, congratulations, Ned. Glad you're going to stay with us. Thanks, Captain Colchester. You've been a hard-working apprentice, and I've no doubt what you'll be a good officer.

In fact, we have a man on board who'll make sure of that. Why? What do you mean, Captain? Got a new first mate on this trip. Come in, Charlie. Charlie! Well, hello there, youngster. I say, you've been doing a bit of growing in the last five years. Charlie, I didn't even know you were in port. Been in for a week down country, though.

I hear you fooled aboard. Careful, man. You're talking about your own third mate. Yes, so they tell me. And you'll be jumping lively on this trip, me boy. Easy, easy. Don't forget, I know this ship and you don't. And I'll learn it quick enough. Been wanting the chance for a long time. And between us, I think we can even break this jinx. Lads, there'll be no talk of a jinx on this trip. At least not in the cabin as long as Maggie's going along. Maggie? Who's Maggie? Ask your brother. I think he's the one who talked her into the trip.

Although she claims it's for her health. I'll leave you two to get acquainted. We'll be about ten days loading if you've got any plans. What's he talking about, Charlie? Who's Maggie? His niece, Maggie Colchester. You remember her, the girl who christened the ship? Of course. Ollie, hasn't Dad told you where I've been spending short leaves for the last year and a half? No, Charlie, I didn't know anything about it. Well, then let me show you something. Here. Now, if I have my way, Maggie will be wearing this before the trip's over. Here, take a look.

Blimey! That's all right. Yes, I bought it in Cape Town. It's a blue-white diamond set in platinum. Is it big enough to go on a finger? Oh, it's big enough, all right.

And that's where it's going if I can talk her into it. And who's going to talk who into what, Charlie? Maggie, I was saying that... I hoped I could talk you into going ashore for dinner with me. Oh, where are you now? You big liar. Oh, Maggie, this is my brother Ned. Ned, this is Maggie. How do you do? And are you one of the officers too? I'm the new third mate. Well, I certainly hope you're more truthful than your brother... Maggie. ...whose invitation to dinner...

I am accepting with pleasure. Oh, really? See you both later? All right, Char. About an hour. Charlie, she's lovely. She's more than that, Ned. She's everything as far as I'm concerned. Well, in that case, good luck. I hope you get her. We'll see about that. Anyway, with Maggie aboard, we've got to make sure this jinx ship stays on good behavior for once. It'll be the first time if she does. And it's the first time we've had both the Wilmots on board together. We'll tame her down, Ned.

We'll make a calm and peaceful as an old workhorse. Just you wait and see if we don't. And the strange part of it was, he was right. We stood out past Gravesend and made the passage to the China coast in 121 days of the finest weather you could ever hope to meet. And for the first time in her bloody life, the old ship settled down and sailed herself as neat as you please.

Charlie and I had talked about it sometimes when Maggie wasn't around. He'd always laugh and say the brute knew when she'd met her match that she didn't dare try to buck the two of us. I was more ready to give the credit to Maggie, to think maybe she'd charm the old murderess the way she'd charmed all the rest of us.

From the second day out, Maggie was the secret darling of every man on board. She was all over the ship, here, there and everywhere, with red tam and her bright blue eyes, never still a minute, and having the time of her life. If she'd come along for her health, she'd found it before we passed Gravesend. We raised a storm on the passage back and ran four days in a heavy gale. I stood by and held my breath, ready for anything, and nothing happened.

The old lady, Epps family, held up her head and sailed along like a seagull. Any time before she'd have buried her gunnel in the quartering seas. But now, all the water she shipped you could put in a teacup. A hundred and nine days from Hong Kong we raised the dungness light and early the next morning picked up a tug off Sheerness for the long tow upriver to London. The ship followed along on the towline like a puppy on a leash and we moved slowly up the river past Gravesend.

All of us were glad to be home, but Maggie most of all, I think, because she'd never been at sea so long before. I had to smile at the way she danced around in the bows, picking out one landmark after another as we came to them, sometimes standing up on the spare anchor we'd taken in on the foredeck in order to get a better look at the riverbanks ahead. She wasn't wearing the ring yet, but I knew she was going to and was only teasing Charlie as long as possible. What's wrong, Ned?

That tug stopped her engines. Collision up ahead in the channel, Charlie. Looks like a yawl and a schooner fell together. Oh, yes. Well, looks like they're clearing it up now. Guess we can move again in a couple of minutes. Maggie! Why don't you go on to the after deck? You're on the way up forward there. All right, Charlie. Stop worrying. We're almost home. Better save your orders for the crew, Charlie. She outranks you. I'll take orders from her any day. Yes. We are almost home, Ned.

We've had a lucky voyage. It's the first halfway peaceful trip I've ever made in the old brute. Oh, I told you we'd tame her down. She's turned over a new leaf, Ned. Well, it won't last long if she keeps on shearing off there and drifting back down the channel. Huh? Oh, yes. And we're heading straight for those fishing smacks. Better have the tug start up and hold a taut line on her. I've seen her do this before. Yes. Ahoy, the tug! Take up the slack and get her straight in the channel. Hold it against the current. Ah!

Any other ship would have held steady for the two or three minutes we stopped. But not the old rep's family. And now when the tug tightened up in the halzer, pulling at an angle across her bows, she wouldn't respond, wouldn't budge. The old girl wanted her own way. She was just as stubborn as ever. Ahoy the tug! We're still drifting. Open up to full speed. Confounder.

Never saw a ship act like this. The heavy hawser was pulled so tight it was humming, and Tug's paddles with their engines full whipped up the water like a mill race. And then it happened. The heavy towing chalk tore loose from the deck. The hawser began sliding across the bow, ripping out rail stanchions like matchsticks. Then my horse was going to sweep under the fruits of the spare anchor, the anchor that Maggie was standing on. Maggie! Get off that anchor! Look out! Charlie!

She tried to jump clear, but she was too late. The great anchor had tipped up on its side, clasped her about the waist like a monstrous arm of steel. It had carried her with it and swung down and over and smashed against the side of the ship. She went into the water. Take charge of the deck, Ned. I'm going in after her. Ned! Ned, was that Maggie? Yes, sir. She's overboard, Captain Colchester. Maggie. Oh, the dirty murdering brute. Now it's women she's killing.

Let go of the port-hacker! Hold the ship as she is and get the boat over! I hadn't told Charlie and I didn't say anything about it to Captain Colchester. But I stood there and I knew it wasn't any use. Because I'd seen the way the heavy anchor had carried her over. And then swung in to smash her against the bow before it dropped her into the water. And I'd seen the way that water beneath the bow was all...

Coloured red. They found her at late afternoon when the tide turned and she floated clear of one of the mooring boys. And the next morning, we tied up in the London docks. The men had been happy at coming into their home port, but now they remembered how she'd been happy too. Their own darling. I'd never before seen a crew leave a ship so quietly. And some of them, when they reached the wharf...

He turned back and cursed her under that breath. Finally, it was only Charlie and I, alone on the quarterdeck, and Captain Colchester was below somewhere in the cabin. She never wore it, Ned. The ring? She never wore it. But she would have, Charlie. I know she meant to. She was just having a little fun with you, that's all. With all of us on board, why did the brute have to go for Maggie? Why? I guess there's not much answer for that. She's everything I wanted. Everything. Yes, Charlie, I know.

I talked her into making the voyage. It was my idea. It's no good, Charlie, this kind of thinking. I guess you know that. I don't know. She's everything I wanted. Charlie, I... Over here, Captain. I'm going ashore. The shipkeepers come aboard now. The two of you are free to go whenever you like. Thanks, sir. Charlie, I... Nothing.

I'm resigning command in the morning. I'll never sit foot on board her again as long as I live. I feel the same way, sir. Well, come into the company office in a day or two and sign out for the log. Good day, gentlemen. Charlie, we'd better go ashore, too. We're done here. Yes, I suppose we are. I'll arrange to have our gear picked up later. There's no use of... Captain, look out! Missed him!

That yard arm off the main mast fell right behind him. Ah, you missed me, you murdering brute! And that was your last chance, fool! Ned, that yard was made fast at Dungeness. And now it falls out of the tops with the ship lying still at the wharf. Yes, Charlie. Come on, let's go ashore. Wasn't the devil satisfied for one trip? Is there no way of stopping her? How many more does she want to kill? Charlie! Oh, Ned. Ned, take me home.

Charlie was ten years older by the time we reached home, and it was two weeks before he'd do anything more than sit in his room and stare at the wall, saying nothing. Captain Colchester carried out his threat and resigned from the company the morning after we docked, and I filed my application for a transfer. The Epps family was reloaded and ready to sail, but she stayed on lying at the wharf with nobody to take her out.

And that's the way things stood for two weeks, until one morning, a bombshell dropped. Hello, Ned. Charlie! I wondered where you went this morning. Well, I left the house early. How do you feel? Fine. Ned, Mr. Epps tells me you've applied for a transfer. Another ship. Well, yes, I did, as a matter of fact. You saw old man Epps? Yes, I stopped in at the office this morning. Ned, it's up to you, of course, but...

I hope you'll change your mind. Not a chance. The ship sails tomorrow morning. Oh, so they finally found somebody crazy enough to take her out? Yes, they did. Me. You? You're going to skip with a brute? That's right, Ned. But I... It's a short voyage, North Atlantic run. Be awfully glad to have you along. Somebody I can depend on if you feel like signing on again. Charlie! Of course, it's up to you. All right, Charlie. I'll sign on again. Be glad to.

We boomed out past the Sheerness Light and headed north, hugging a lee shore in the stiff breeze. The ship drove ahead as steady as a barge, with scarcely a roll or a quiver. But in spite of the smooth and easy way she handled, I couldn't help feeling uneasy. I could sense the black spirit of her brooding somewhere down inside, mocking and taunting us with her bloody memories, and waiting for a new chance.

By nightfall, we were running hard in along the Ketterling coast, where those rocky headlands break at intervals out of the shelving sandy beaches. The onshore wind held steady in our quarter, and the sun sank down behind the land some three miles away. It wasn't quite full dark yet when Charlie sent for me. I came up to where he was standing alone near the wheel. Is that you, Ned? Right, Charlie. Bosun said he wanted to see me. Yes, I did send for you, Ned. How does that issue go as close to the wind? Aye, sir.

I've been standing here, thinking about Maggie, Ned. How she scrambled around over the decks, making friends with everybody, having the time of her life. Charlie, you've got to stop it. No, I'm all right. I like to think about her. It's this ship and all the memories around it. It's what I was afraid of. No, no, it's all right. Ned, I want you to take charge of the crew and give an order. Of course, you'll question the order, but you'll carry it out anyway. Do you understand? What's the order, Charlie? Have all hands prepare to abandon ship... What?

But why? There's nothing wrong. Mr. Wilmot, it is not an officer's place to question an order by the captain. You'll do as you're told. Yes, sir. You can give the order now, Mr. Wilmot. Charlie, I can't let you... Very well, Captain. All hands on deck! Stand by the boat, sir! To abandon ship! All right, helmsman. Find your place in the boat, sir. I'll take over the wheel. Aye, sir. You don't know what you're doing, Charlie. We're in no danger. There's no reason to abandon ship. You're always in danger aboard this black-hearted brute.

I'll put on the quarter now. You can get the boats in the water when she heals. Ready on. Steady, quarter! Easy on. All right. Now. All hands, boats! We shouldn't have any trouble running ashore to that beach there at the south. Hey, what about you? I'll hold her steady until everybody's clear. You'd better go over the side. Your boat's standing there. Oh, no, not until you do. I'm staying with you, Charlie. Don't be a fool, Ned.

I'm doing this alone. No, Charlie, not while I'm here. Mr. Wilmot, you will abandon ship and take charge of the boats in the water, and that's an order. Charlie, I can't... Mr. Wilmot! Very well, Captain. That's the spirit, lad. Learn to obey orders and step lively, and you'll be a seaman yet. Good luck, lad. Thanks, Charlie. Stand by for you in the boat. Of course, lad. I slipped over the gunwale and dropped down into the boat that trailed alongside on a line from the rail. I'd hardly hit the bottom when the line slackened. I knew Charlie had cut us loose from the ship.

He was alone on an hour, alone in the night sea, with a black brute.

Look, sir, look. He's laid it over, away from the wind. Charlie had put the helm over hard. With the terrible shudder of her dark sails and a smother of white foam from her bows, the great ship heeled about in a sharp turn and then began to drive ahead like some mad thing before the wind, straight before the wind and straight toward the shore. Look, sir, the rocks on the headland. She's going to smash herself. Faster and faster she plunged her head through the weltering seas, faster and faster on the back of the gale while the black-hearted spirit of her screamed in the rat line. Look, sir, the rocks. What in the name of heaven is he going to do?

And now, for one long instant, she hung poised at the top of a plunge and then drove smashing downward onto the... We stood by as close as we dared for three hours while the killer ship pounded herself to bits in the surging sea. But we didn't find my brother Charlie. And from the first minute, I knew we wouldn't. Because just before I'd left the ship, there by the helm, in the light of the binnacle lamp, I'd seen the thing he was holding.

clenched tight in his heart. It was a tiny platinum ring set with a blue-white diamond.

Next week...

You are far into the remote hill country of Afghan, in an ambush by the fierce Pathan tribes, trapped in a hopeless fight from which there seems no escape. Next week, we escape with Rudyard Kipling's gripping story, The Drums of the Foreign Aff. Good night, then, until the same time next week, when once again we offer you Escape!

This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. ♪♪ Murder by experts. ♪♪

The Mutual Broadcasting System presents Murder by Experts with your host and narrator, Mr. John Dixon Carr, world-famous mystery novelist and author of the recently published bestseller, The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This is John Dixon Carr. Each evening at this time, Murder by Experts brings you a story of crime and mystery which has been chosen for your approval by one of the world's leading detective writers,

Those experts who are themselves masters of the art of murder and can hold tensity at its highest. Tonight's guest expert is Mr. Hugh Pentecost, author of many memorable thrillers, who has selected a story by a young newcomer you'll do well to watch, Andrew Evans. Be very careful as you listen, for as Mr. Pentecost says of this thriller, the story has not only a twist, but an unforeseen double twist.

which takes one completely by surprise. And now we present Summer Heat. Look now at the old elm, the ivy-covered buildings on the campus of a small Midwestern university. It's a fine June afternoon when you hear laughter and the greetings of the reunion of the class of 36. Twelve years have passed.

But none of the members of the class seems much older to each other. There's the dark-haired Paul Baxter wandering rather strangely. There are two of his old friends, prosperous now, judged by their clothes and boisterous in greeting.

Paul! Paul Baxter! You old rascal! It's sure good to see you again. Hello, Steve. Bert, this is a surprise. Why don't you have a write to us, Paul? You had our addresses. Why, sure. That's no way to treat old classmates.

Just think, 12 years. Oh, they sure have gone fast. Too fast to suit me. Say, Paul, you've turned awful gray for only 33. Well, he always did take things too seriously. I suppose by now, Paul, you're one of the biggest lawyers in the state, huh?

How's Marsha? Yeah, you were all set to marry her after graduation, remember? Yes, and you were going to become her father's junior law partner. Oh, you sure had a sweet set-up there. Well, things worked out a little differently. You see, that party we had graduation night... Do you remember it? Remember it? How could we forget it? Oh, that was a real blowout. And were you tight, Paul. You know, that party...

This sort of changed my whole life. Changed your life? Well, how? Well, I don't remember much about the party itself. I guess I had too many drinks. In fact, I don't remember anything until I woke up the next morning. I could hear old Trinity ringing. I awoke to find myself on the couch in my living room. It was noon, and the room was hot, stiflingly hot. I remembered I had a date with Marsha and her father at one o'clock.

I got to my feet. My head ached. There were heat waves before my eyes. Feeling sick, I staggered toward my bedroom. Then I saw him. The man. Asleep on my bed, his back to me. For a moment, I stood there, trying to remember if someone had come home from the party with me. But the night before was a total blank. I crossed to the bed, bent over, shook his shoulder. Hey, fella. Hey, it's noon. Wake up. Come on, wake up. I shook him. He had flopped over.

and looked up at me with staring eyes. He was dead, and there was a knife in his chest. My hunting knife. I stood stunned, staring down at the body on my bed. The dead man was an utter stranger to me. He was neatly dressed in old clothes, and my knife, my knife was in his heart. I killed him. I couldn't remember when or how or why, but I'd killed him. Frantically, I tried to remember what had happened. Was he a panhandler?

Someone I'd met on the street and drunkenly brought home with me? I didn't know. I couldn't remember. As I stood there, trying to get a grip on myself, I suddenly realized there was someone at the door. Instinctively, I walked into the living room and towards the door. Just as I was about to open it, I realized the danger of letting anyone into the apartment. I put my ear against the door and listened. I heard voices. Yours, Steve. And yours, too.

Hey, Paul, open up. We want to say goodbye. Come on, Paul. Wake up, will you? We're leaving for California in 15 minutes. I guess old Paul isn't in. Yeah. I wonder how he felt when he woke up. Boy, what a head he must have had. Still, I sure hate to leave without saying goodbye. Well, he has our California address. He can write to us. Come on, or we'll miss that train. Then they were both gone, and I dared to breathe again. I tried to think calmly...

figure out what to do. I knew I should call the police, but they... they might charge me with murder. And what defense could I offer? I thought of Marcia. The slightest scandal and everything would be off. Our marriage, my job, my future. I couldn't call the police. I couldn't call them and sacrifice everything I'd worked for. Somehow I had to get the body out of my apartment, get rid of it before it was found. Then it came to me. My car was in the basement garage. The dumbwaiter in the kitchen led down to the basement.

I could put the dead man in the dumbwaiter, lower him to the basement, get him in my car, and then... Mr. Paul! Oh, Mr. Paul! It was Jenny, the cleaning woman. She'd let herself in with her key. I hurried into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind me. There you are. A fine time for a rising young lawyer to be getting up. Oh, hello, Jenny. I guess I overslept. I was at a party last night. A party, was it? Everyone on the campus is talking about it, and the complaints...

Well, now step aside and let me into that bedroom. I've got to start cleaning. Jenny, can't you come back later and do the place? No, I can't. Now get out of my way. Jenny, wait. I don't want you to clean up yet. Paul, what's wrong? Why are you blocking the door like that? Well, the truth of the matter is one of the boys had a bit too much last night and he's in my bedroom sleeping it off. Oh, well, get him out of there. Take him to a Turkish bath. Turkish bath. Oh, yes, that's a good idea.

Look, Jenny, just give me half an hour to get him dressed and out of here. Then you can come back and clean up. A half hour or nothing, I'll give you exactly five minutes. All right, Jenny, I'll have him out of here by then. You'd better. She was gone. And I had five minutes, just five minutes. I went into the bedroom and quickly went through the dead man's pockets. They were empty. There was no identification in them. The thin, pinched face told me he was a nobody, a derelict, someone who might never be missed.

As I was about to lift him off the bed, the phone rang. It's Shrew Ring. Fill the room. Hello? Hello, darling. Marcia. How was your stag party last night? Did you miss me? Miss you? You sound as though you have a dreadful hangover. Hangover? Oh, yes. Oh, excuse me a minute, Marcia. There's someone at the door. Yes? I'll be coming in to clean your hall. Jenny. So get your friend out of there. Oh, yes, Jenny, yes. Just give me another minute and we'll be out of here.

Marsha, I can't talk to you any longer. I'm in a hurry. Then you haven't forgotten your appointment with Father and myself at 1 o'clock. No, no, no. I may be a little late, but I'll be there. Paul, you mustn't be late. I've told you over and over what a stickler Father is for punctuality. He can't stand people who are late for appointments. Well, you'll recall how furious he was when you didn't show up. I know, Marsha, but I... You have 45 minutes to shave, shower, and dress. That's plenty of time. And, Paul, wear your gray flannel suit with the

and be sure you're there on time. Yes, Marcia, yes, but I've got to hang up. Jenny will be coming back any minute that I... Well, what if she is? Now, darling, you haven't forgotten what we discussed yesterday afternoon. Yesterday afternoon? Yes. I know Father's brusque and inclined to bully people, but don't let it upset you. After all, it's our future he's... Marcia, I can't talk any longer. I've got to hang up. Jenny will be back. I've only seconds left. What in the world are you talking about? Now, when... Marcia, I've got to hang up. I've got to. Goodbye. Goodbye.

I hung up the phone and wiped the sweat running down my face. It took only a moment to lift him off the bed, carry him into the kitchen, pull the dumbwaiter up and put his body into it. I closed the door to the dumbwaiter, ran out of the apartment and started down the stairs to the basement. I got down to the basement to find Ben, the janitor, leisurely pulling on the dumbwaiter rope.

Ben! Oh, Ben. Oh, hello, Paul. But your car, you're after it's there by the door all washed like you had. Thanks, but Ben, stop a minute, will you? I want you to do something for me. Sure, Paul. Just as soon as I've emptied this dumbwaiter... Will you stop blowing that dumbwaiter? Stop it here! Hey, what's wrong with you? You're acting mighty strange. I'm sorry I shouted like that, Ben. It's just that...

There's a package up in my apartment that I'd like you to mail right away. There's a dollar in it for you. All right. But there ain't no need to rush. Today's Sunday. The post office is closed. Closed? Sure. Say, what's the matter with you anyway? Must be the heat. Shh.

Something awful heavy on this dumbwaiter. Ben, wait a minute. There's something else. How's that? Stop a minute, will you? How can I talk to you while you're lowering that dumbwaiter? Go ahead. I can hear everything you're saying. Let go of that rope. Let go of your head. You're going crazy or something? I'm here for mine to call the super and tell him what you... No, no, no. Don't do that. Ben, up in my apartment, there's a bottle. Bottle? Yes. I brought it home last night. It's half full.

I wanted you to have it for cleaning the car. Oh, thanks. I sure appreciate that, Paul. I'll go up and get it as soon as I've emptied this dumbwaiter. It's almost down now. But Ben, Jenny just went in to clean. You know how she feels about drinking? Jenny? Jumping grasshoppers? Why didn't you say so? That woman will pour it all down the drain if I don't get there first. As soon as Ben disappeared up the stairs, I pulled the dumbwaiter the rest of the way down, opened the door, and he fell into my arms.

Slinging the body over my shoulder, I staggered with it to my car and swiftly dropped him on the floor in the back. It was an old touring car. The top was long since gone. To hide the body from view, I covered it with an old blanket. A moment later, I started a motor and rolled smoothly out of the basement and into the driveway. As I did, I heard Ben shouting to me from my window. All right, Paul, wait a minute. I got something for you. I pretended not to hear Ben calling. Instead, I stepped on the gas. Ben!

I was almost proud of myself as I drove past the campus. I was in trouble, but I was thinking fast, as a good lawyer should. I'd already decided I'd have to get rid of him by dumping him into the river. As I came to Main Street, driving neither too fast nor too slow, I turned left toward the river. There was very little traffic, and I was just about to speed up when behind me I heard a whistle blowing. It was Dugan, the town's only traffic cop, and he was blowing for me to stop.

There was nothing to do but pull over to the curb. As Dugan hurried up to me, I realized I'd driven through a red light. Hello, Dugan. Never mind that hello, Dugan stuff. What's the matter? You colorblind? I'm sorry, Dugan. I just didn't notice the light. You just didn't notice the light. That's fine. I think you and me had better take a ride over to Justice Miller. Oh, look, don't run me in, Dugan. It won't happen again. That's what all you college cut-ups say. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me... What do you got there in the back? Underneath that blanket?

Under your blanket? You heard me. What's under it? Well, that's Roy Hamilton, one of my classmates. Yeah, well, what's he lying on the floor under a blanket on a hot day like this for? Last night at our farewell shindig, Roy had a few too many. He's still out. I'm taking him home.

Where does he live? At Mrs. Randolph's boarding house. What are you handing me? That's in the other direction. Yes, yes, I know, but first I'm taking him to the Turkish bath on Elm Street. Yeah, well, by the time you get him there, the poor guy will be dead. Ain't you got no sense? What do you mean? Look at the way you got the blanket over his head and in his heat, too. I better pull the blanket off his face so he can breathe. No, no. I mean, I covered his face on purpose. Suppose Dean Richards or somebody saw Roy like this.

Yeah. Yeah, that's right. Just the same, I bet I... Constable! Constable! Can I see you for a minute? I'll be right with you, Jensen. Johnson. Where were we, Baxter? Oh, yeah, the guy in the back. He'll smother to death if we don't move the... It's important. I've got to see you. I'm coming. I'm coming. I won't run you in this time, Baxter, but from now on, stay awake when you're driving. I will, Dugan. And for Pete's sake, pull the blanket off that guy's head.

Take it easy, Jensen. I'm coming. As I stepped on the gas, I muttered a prayer of thanks for old Johnson, the janitor of the medical school building, who had called Dugan just as he was reaching for the blanket that covered my passenger. It was a few minutes after one as I drove out of town. I could picture Marsha's father fuming in my lateness. The sun was scorching in my open car as I drove along River Road, looking for a place to hide the body. I needed one where there were trees to hide me...

The hours that followed were like a nightmare. The heat was stifling and I could feel my hand shaking on the wheel from nervous tension. I drove and drove and drove, looking for a place to get rid of the body. But the whole countryside seemed to be swarming with people, families picnicking, Boy Scouts camping, kids in swimming, couples in parked cars. No matter where I turned, there was always someone in sight.

Little spots danced before my eyes. Waves of faintness swept over me. My hand began to ache, and my head too. Unbearably. It was already long after three. I was late for my date with Marcia and her father. That didn't matter. Nothing mattered but to get rid of the body in the back of the car. I had to get rid of it. I had to. I drove, mile after mile.

Turning from one road to another. Searching endlessly for a safe place to stop. Then I realized I was running out of gas. I saw a gas station ahead and I decided to stop there. It was a risk, but I had to take it. Okay, mister. That's five gallons. Want me to check your oil? No, no, thanks. How much? That's a dollar fifteen. Whew, boy, that's hot, isn't it? Yes, it's hot all right. Here you are. That's one fifteen out of five. Now get your change.

Hey, this rear tire looks a little flat. It's all right. You want me to check it? Won't take but a minute. It's all right, I tell you. Okay, mister, just as you say. Your rear door is open. I better shut that for you. Leave that door alone. Oh, but you don't want to drive along with your rear door open. That's funny. There's something in the car jamming it. I better have a... Leave that door alone and get my change. But you... All right, mister. Just as you say. I'll get your change.

He hurried into the station. I looked in the back of the car and saw what had kept the door from closing. It was a hand. His hand sticking out from under the blanket. The attendant had seen it. He would be phoning the police. I drove faster and faster. The police would be on the lookout for me now. My whole future depended on what I did in the next few minutes. And then it came to me. In one brief moment, it came to me.

The perfect way to get rid of the body was so simple, so perfect, that I laughed aloud with relief. A half hour later, I was parked in an alley behind one of the university buildings. It was Sunday, and the place was deserted. Despite my fatigue and aching head, it took me but a moment to carry the body into the basement of the medical building, and down the corridor to the basement room where the bodies for the dissecting glasses were kept.

Where does a wise man hide a leaf? In a forest. Where does a wise man hide a body? In a dissecting room. The room was big and cool and dimly lit. The far end was a long metal tank. I reached the tank and lowered him to the stone floor beside it. I had only to open the tank, slip him inside and leave. I reached for the lid of the preserving tank and was about to open it when I heard a voice. Hey, who's in there? It was Johnson, the janitor.

I quickly dropped behind the tank and waited, holding my breath. I heard you. Stop hiding and come out. I know you're here. I just saw your car through the window. You better come out if you know what's good for you. He'd seen my car. He knew I was in the room. But if I kept my head, there was a chance, just a chance. All right, Johnson. Here I am. Boxster, eh?

So it's you, is it? You're the one who... Johnson, wait a minute. Let me explain. Explain, huh? After last night, I'm not listening to any fancy stories. I'm the one who gets blamed when... What's that on the floor behind you there? On the floor? Nothing, Johnson. Do you think I'm blind or something? Step aside and let me see what... It's your body. Yes.

It's a body. So that's it. I thought you were trying to steal one. Instead, you were bringing it. Yes, I was bringing it. And just what were you going to do with that gentleman on the floor? Put him back in the tank with the rest? Yes, that's right. I thought he might not be noticed. As if I wouldn't have known. Well, go on. Call the cops. Let's get it over with. All right, Baxter. Of course, uh...

I don't have to call the cops. Nobody knows about this but you and me. What do you mean? Well, I was going to make a report, but this way there's no harm done. So I might be able to overlook the whole thing if I was persuaded properly. You might overlook it? Yeah, that's right. You just leave this fellow to me and there's no fuss because nobody's the wiser. You do that...

You'd keep your mouth shut? I guess I could be persuaded to. How much? Well, suppose we say $50. $50? That isn't much, considering what would happen if I reported you. No, no, it isn't $50. That's very cheap to help me cover up a murder. Murder? More of your jokes. I'm not talking about murder. I'm talking about putting number 37 here back in his proper place.

Number 37? Yes, 37. He just came in yesterday from the county poor farm, and last night he disappeared, stolen by you and your drunken friends and dressed up for a joke. Well, I don't like jokes like that. I drove downtown a while back to tell Doug and the constable about it, but, well, I didn't tell them anything. It would mean trouble for me for being asleep on the job. Number 37...

He was stolen from here last night. Aye, that's what I said. As long as you've brought him back, there's no harm done. That's why I'm willing to keep it quiet. Then I didn't kill him. It was just a joke somebody played on me. Just a practical joke. Here, here, here. What's wrong with you? It's a joke. It's a very good joke on me. This whole afternoon driving, driving in the heat trying to get rid of him was just a joke.

A joke! For goodness sakes, he's fainted. Well, that's the story of what happened the day after our graduation party 12 years ago. When I came to, I was in the college hospital. I'd been unconscious a week. They said it was just a slight breakdown brought on by sunstroke. I was all right after a while, but somehow I wasn't interested in law anymore. Marcia and I didn't get married, and I...

Didn't become her father's junior law partner. Good Lord, Paul. We never knew any of this. Gosh, Paul, I can't tell you how sorry I am. We never dreamed our gag would turn out like that. Your gag? Why, sure. See, after the party broke up that night, we were feeling pretty high, and, well, it was a crazy idea, but we thought it would be funny to steal a cadaver from the medical college and leave it in your room with...

With your knife in it. That was you? The two of you? Well, yes, Paul. Gosh, I feel terrible about this. But, well, that day we left, we came up to your apartment to tell you about a little joke. Only you weren't in. We had to rush for our train, but we phoned from the station. Then the janitor answered, and we told him to explain about the cadaver. I heard him calling, but I didn't stop. Paul, will you ever be able to forgive us for what happened? Forgive you? Forgive you?

No! No, I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you, do you hear? Kill you! Hey, wait a minute! No! Get away from me! Bert, help me! Paul! Paul, let him go! He's choking me! Help me! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!

Here he is, men. Grab him. Quick, grab him. Let go of me. Let go. Quick, now. Get him back to the hospital. I'll kill him. Take him out. I'll kill him. I'll kill him. I'll kill him. Now, you hurt, mister? No, no. I'm all right. But you came just in time. He was trying to kill me. Why? He sure was. He just went crazy. Well, I'm sure sorry this happened. You see...

He slipped away from the hospital this afternoon. We figured he'd head this way. The hospital? Yes. Poor fellow had a bad breakdown just after he graduated 12 years ago. He's been locked up ever since. Locked up? Yeah. He's always been perfectly harmless, though. He just went around all the time looking for a place to hide something. This is the first time he ever got violent. I can't figure out what came over him. ♪♪

And so the curtain falls on Summer Heat, which was chosen by guest expert Hugh Pentecost, whose latest thriller, Where the Snow Was Red, will be published next month. We welcome your comments on tonight's story. All letters should be addressed to Murder by Experts, Care of Mutual Broadcasting System, New York 18, New York.

Next week at this time, Murdered by Experts brings you the story of a woman who pitted her wits against death. A story selected for your approval by Brett Halliday, creator of the rough, tough detective known as Mike Shane. Until then, this is your host, John Dixon Carr, saying goodnight.

In our cast were Lawson Zerbe, Bryna Rayburn, Ian Martin, Cameron Andrews, Bill Zuckert, and Frank Behrens. Summer Heat by Andrew Evans was adapted for radio by Robert A. Arthur and David Kogan. Original music was composed by Richard LePage. The orchestra was conducted by Emerson Buckley. Murder by Experts is produced and directed by Robert A. Arthur and David Kogan.

All characters in this story were fictitious, and any resemblance to the names of actual persons was purely coincidental. Phil Tarkin speaking. This is the world's largest network serving more than 500 radio stations, the Mutual Broadcasting System.

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