Another Scary Story From THE HERMIT’S CAVE, and More #RetroRadio Stories! EP0277 #WeirdDarkness
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Suspense!

Welcome, Weirdos! I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness' Retro Radio. Here I have the privilege of bringing you some of the best dark, creepy, and macabre old-time radio shows ever created. If you're new here, welcome to the show! While you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, sign up for my free newsletter, connect with me on social media, listen to free audiobooks I've narrated, visit other podcasts I produce – you can

You can also visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression, dark thoughts, or addiction. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into Weird Darkness' retro radio!

The CBS Radio Mystery Theater presents...

Come in. Welcome. I'm E.G. Marshall. It was the 18th century playwright William Congreve who said it. See how love and murder will out. And although a quarter of a century intervened before they did...

That's what this story is all about. Appropriately enough, it starts with the more violent of the two. Hold it, you! Freeze!

If that's the way you want it, push her. Hey, what's going on? Okay, mister, you started it. Just no more sudden moves. And kill that heater. It's all right. Don't let the plane close for you. I'm police. Detective Joe Lombardi, 45th. What is it, Barney? You hold up? No, no, nothing like that. He's just a screwy neighborhood kid trying to pull a fast one for kicks. Hey, Joe! What you want to do that for? You killed him. No!

Our mystery drama, Murder Will Out, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Ian Martin and stars Mason Adams. It is sponsored in part by Buick Motor Division. I'll be back shortly with Act One. ♪♪

In the city of New York, the police pride themselves on not being a police force, but a police service. Talk to any bedrock cop. Reach down through the layers of why he wanted to become a police officer, and you'll find that the great majority put service first before pay, benefits, or power. That goes for almost any police force through the country.

Easy to malign these days. Not so easy to praise, because the weight of the crime graphs is hard to sustain. But above all, a cop is human. And that works on both sides of the line. Door's open. Come on in. Okay, Captain. Hey, you bring the coffee in? It's right here. Thought you might want to chew me out first. I shouldn't drink coffee. It ginches my ulcer.

Get it? I'll chew you out better with an aching gut. Yes, sir. Any news on the Crocker kid? Looks like he's going to make it. No thanks to you. The bullet went right through his chest but managed to miss anything vital. How, I don't know.

You should be as accurate on the range. Yes, Captain. And a hell of a lot less trigger happy. You know that boy is only 16. He's 6 feet 1, weighs 185, and he squeezed off two shots at me. How? He wasn't armed. It was nighttime. The streets badly lighted. Maybe he threw it away, but he had something in his hand, and I heard the shots. Maybe you heard a backfire. Oh, damn. Broom Danish again. Why can't I ever get a cheese Danish?

You want to know what he had in his hand? Maybe it was a zip gun. He had a bottle of beer. All right, so he heisted it. But his old man was hungover and he sent him over to Barney's Pub and the kid left it a bottle of suds. So it's against the law. With what we have to handle in this precinct, it's worth making a federal case over?

It's kind of looking that way for me, isn't it? A couple of citizens' committees brewing, some pressure from the newsboys, and unfortunately, it's a good story for them if they start digging up old bodies. Oh, I didn't mean that the way it came out. I know, Captain Stark. Well, you should. Sal was my best friend. We rode a squad car together for six years. And when he...

Yeah, I swear they... They fry this stuff. They boil the beans first and then they fry them in dish water. Call this coffee? You gonna break me? No, I... I gotta do something, Joe. I just can't sit still. You fired at him and he wasn't on. There were two shots. I heard them. A truck backfired.

Oh, I know how it looks, Joe. You were tired just coming up out of the subway. You see a guy on the lam. You tell him to freeze and he stops, turns, and it looks like he laid two on the line for you. A cop has a right to protect himself. Reflex action. I pulled my gun. But you didn't have to pull the trigger. You weren't hit, Joe. I should wait to be? You were in plain clothes. The bartender says you never even identified yourself as police before you fired. Okay, Captain.

You want my badge? I don't. I understand. I don't approve, but I understand. What do you want me to do? Hold back like my pop and get my brains blown out? Oh, that's the whole trouble. That's what I mean when I say I understand. If Sal had moved as fast as you, maybe... Same deal. My pop got her right in front of that same lousy gin mill. Now, wait a minute.

You were only five years old when it happened. It wasn't that simple. You studied the file and... I don't have to. I got it all from my mom all those years growing up, and I know the file like I know my own name. Fire, doctor. All right, all right. Knock it off. You think if we'd had enough of a case, I wouldn't have nailed that Leslie Peavy? First off, we couldn't find him, and second off, there wasn't enough case against him as it stood to warrant anything beyond an APB.

Then you got away. Sure. You let this crumb bump kill my pop, one of your own, 25 years ago, and the guy is still running loose. I'm not going to get caught up in this old argument, Joe. Except this far. It's your obsession that poises you not only as a police officer, but as a man. It's held you back your whole career. And now it's pretty near ended. You asked if I wanted your badge. No. No, I don't.

But I think you need some time to think over just what you want to be. The Avenger or a real-life cop who knows his job isn't guns and shootouts, but good, solid service to the public. I could suspend you. Okay, okay, go ahead. I'll take that from you because of my old friend. Now, instead of suspending you, I'm suggesting that you got a lot of vacation time coming, like at least a month.

You can start it today. That's the same thing as suspension. Not quite. I want one thing in return. What? I want you to forget you're a cop for the next four weeks and try to get to know yourself, Joe. Wake up. Wake up, wipe the slate, lock your gun in a drawer. Learn to be a real human being. Okay, that's it. You're off duty as of right now. I left the office choked with bile right up to the back of my tongue.

I shouldn't have been mad at the old man, but I was. He said he understood, didn't he? But he didn't. It's my private war. I got as many citations as I have call-downs. Centures. So maybe I'll never make it beyond detective third grade. Who cares? If I can't get the guy who rubbed out my father, I'll get enough to make up for it.

And thinking all this, I'm back at the stop-order book, running through its well-thumbed pages, back to that screwball name listed as having a warrant out on him even after 25 years. Leslie Peavy. And suddenly, I know what I'm going to do with that vacation I don't want. Morning, Green. Hi, Joe. Hello.

Let me have XB-3-1407, huh? Again? You know, Officer Green, you ought to take a tip from your predecessor, old Bunky. He just learned not even to ask when I came in, but went straight to the files and got it. Okay, but don't get so uptight, Detective Third Grade Lombardi. I'll get your file for you. What you need it for beats me. You've seen it often enough, you ought to know it by heart.

Here you are, XB3-1407. Thanks. For the file, not the smart talk. What are you freaking out on spots for? Oh, uh, did that kid you winged buy it? Nope. He's gonna make it. Oh, thank the Lord. Maybe. Maybe he wasn't up to anything this time, but he will be. I know the type. I can smell him. I can feel him.

And someday, maybe some other cop will just give him enough of a break to get his ticket canceled. Because that time, it won't be a beer bottle in his hand. It'll be real heat. Saturday special, hideout, gun, anything that shoots bullets and kills. What's the matter, Joe? Did they set you down for what happened? Oh, well, how come you're so bitter? I mean, well, it's none of my business, but you're a good-looking young guy, and I know you got a sense of humor. Catch you off guard, you can be real nice. Ah!

How come you get so little out of it? Why don't you have a girl, Joe? Why aren't you married? You know what's in this file, Green? Well, it's 25 years old. I haven't caught up on all my reading yet. Well, I'll fill you in.

You see, my pop... My pop trusted people. He gave them a break anyways. One night he's coming home, same as I was last night, out of the same lousy subway by that same lousy gym. And he stops in for a beer. And there's nobody else there except Barney Saunders, the same bartender that came out last night. And...

And this... This Leslie Peavy, see? Peavy has a gun, see? And he's holding up to it. So my pop, see? He was a uniformed cop, and he was off duty in civvies.

He pulls his own gun and he tells the Peavey crumb bun to drop this. The guy turns around and before my pop gets a chance to do anything more, Peavey kicks a stool into his gut and he takes out of there on a lamp. And pop follows and sees him heading for the corner and he yells at his police at a stop. He fires one warning shot in the air and this, this heist artist turns and squeezes one off that takes my pop right in the... This

It's okay, Joe. I understand. Look, why don't you let it go, Joe? Are you going to carry a monkey like that on your back all your life? Anyway, how are you going to find him after he's buried himself successfully all these years? I just need a few things out of the fire to you first. And then I'm betting that I can find him and I can get him identified. How? I have a hunch by now he's safe enough to have surfaced somewhere. And with a name like Leslie Peavy...

He shouldn't be that hard to get a fix on.

I had copies made of the old faded snapshot of Peavey in the file and of his birth certificate. Also, the name and address of the one other witness besides the bartender. Then I drove out to the airport terminal at Kennedy to follow up my idea on how to get a lead on him. There were four Peaveys in the New York, the Queens, the Bronx, and the Brooklyn books, none in Staten Island. I eliminated those fast. Oh!

Could I talk to Mr. Peavy, please? He's no longer at this number. Well, do you know where I might reach him? I see. Just to make sure, do you happen to recall his first name? I see. Do you recall if he was very tall or short? Very short. Thanks. I wouldn't be the man that I'm looking for. I'm sorry.

I see. Here you go, Mr. Peavy. You're a Spencer lady. Your name's Peavy. Thank you so much. Beg pardon? Oh, no, no. Sorry. Sorry, ma'am. You're not on radio. Sorry to hear that. Recently? Are you just leaving to enter the body now? I see. And I did get the name right. That was Leslie Peavy. John Bramble Peavy. No, no. I'm happy to say he's not the man that I'm looking for.

Well, I hadn't thought it would be that easy. I took out my notebook and pencil and started through the directors. 138 of them. I took my list. I went home to start running up a phone bill. On the 11th, Miami, Florida, I hit pay dirt. This is George. What can I do for you this fine bright day? Is this PV's auto repair? It sure is, brother.

I wonder if I could talk to your boss. Oh, Leslie ain't here right now. Off visiting at the hospital. Back tomorrow. Try then. Leslie? Leslie Peavy? Yeah, that's the name. Excuse me, but we're busy. So I made a blind cast and came up lucky with my fish. Now all I had to do was land it. Oh!

A quarter of a century, and suddenly, with the effort and small expense of a few phone calls, a man buried in anonymity has turned up. It seems almost too easy, or to bring up another metaphor, first catch your hair, then skin him. This is only the beginning of Joe's compulsive quest for vengeance. I'll return shortly with Act Two.

There's more than vindication involved in Joe Lombardi's search for the man who killed his father. That happened 25 years ago, and time is supposed to heal all wounds.

But not the one that flaws Detective Joe Lombardi. Unless he can rid himself of the specter who rides his shoulders, legs locked about his chest, like the legendary old man of the sea.

I don't know how they handled the investigation. At the time, I was five years old and collecting baseball cards. All I knew this time, I was going to prepare a foolproof case before I made my move. I was the fool thinking it was that easy. The first place I went naturally was to the pub to talk to Barney. You know who I am, Barney? Sure. Barney, you knew this Leslie Peavy that shot my old man. Knew him?

Not all that much. Maybe I seen him a time or two in a bar before the night he tried to rob me, but don't get me wrong. He was no habitué. But you could recognize him, like in this picture? Yeah, Detective Lombardi, come on. Yep.

Maybe 25 years ago, you looked something like that. I couldn't make it positive. Well, you made him then, all right. Well, sure. It was fresh in my mind. I did what I had to do as a citizen then. I ain't gonna be on tap anymore. You know something?

Tomorrow is my 65th birthday and my last day here. I'm retiring. I'm going to take my Social Security and go sit on my rump in St. Pete, Florida. And the one thing I'm going to be able to identify for sure are the Mets every spring. And even then, I'm going to need a scorecard.

I don't recognize nothing so good anymore. Look, all I'm asking is for you to hang around a few days maybe till I bring him back and to get an ident on him from you. Oh, sure. And if you do, then you book him. He goes to trial. Are you to hang around months or you drag me back from Florida? Nah, forget it.

Tomorrow night I do my last trick by 12 midnight and it's stopped the world. I'm getting off. Why can't you let the past be? Don't you think I want to? But first I've got to nail a guy that cut my pop down. Why don't you let sleeping dogs lie? Because they're not asleep. Well, then count me out. Shh.

I don't get you, Barney. My mom always told me you were a real friend of my father's. Well, I knew him. He was a good cop. But I didn't owe him nothing. I mean, he was a customer and I was the bartender, like that. How come you suddenly have a stake to retire, Barney? I thought the bookies had you nailed to the wall. Well, you know how it is. You lose a little, you win a little. Not the word I get. You wouldn't...

You wouldn't be running a little numbers batting carry. No, no, no. Nothing like that. Look, I'm 65. I got my social security just like any other citizen.

Okay, I won't press you, Barney. Well, thanks for the favor. Well, now you can do me one in return. How's that? St. Petersburg. It's not so far from where I think I found my man. I'll pay you fair by limousine if you want it. For you to come over and tell me whether I'm right or wrong. Oh, no. I already told you I wouldn't know him from the next guy. And I ain't getting involved.

I got a lot less future than you left, and that's all I care about. Oh, come on. Get out of my life. I walked away from Barney so frustrated, I wanted to put my fist through a wall. Why would he want to back down on such a simple request? Something about his attitude, the way he wouldn't look me in the eye, the defensive anger, all of them signs to any good detective that he was covering up something.

But what? And why? There's no way I could sweat it out of him. He hadn't broken any law I knew of. He had his rights. But I had to forget about Barney for the moment. There was one more witness to go. Sunnyside, Long Island. A street that was a row of two family houses. One of them was where the cab driver lived who saw my father get shot. If he was still alive. I don't know.

Yeah? I'm Detective Lombardi, 45th Missive. Detective? Oh, now, here are my credentials. Nothing to be scared of, Buster. Oh, I don't see how they could be. We ain't done nothing wrong. No, it's not. Just want to ask you a few questions. I called earlier, but there was no one home. You know, I just got back from work. If it's about the Skyler girl getting mugged and raped, we don't know nothing about it. It isn't about that.

First, is this the home of Mr. Louie Brotman? Yeah, I'm his son. He's a cab driver? Well, he was. He's retired now. I'd like to ask him a few questions. Well, he ain't home. He's out taking a walk. I wish he wouldn't stay out so long. The way things are, I don't feel safe if he isn't home before dark. And then he don't know enough to...

What kind of questions? Well, something that happened a long time ago. He saw a man get shot. Oh, oh, you mean the cop. Oh, sure, Pops told me about that. I was just a kid when it happened, of course. Yeah, me too. And the cop was my father. Oh, well, ain't that a shame.

Yeah, but they never found the guy who done it, did they? No, not... Well, I mean, I think we may, we may have turned him up. I... You see, I wanted your father to help me identify him. I mean, if he can, after all of these years. Well, I'm afraid he couldn't help you out. He may not have changed so much. Well, maybe not, but my father has. Yeah, that's him coming now. What? You mean, you mean the man with...

With a cane? Yeah, glaucoma, they call it. Happened five years ago. First, they thought they could save one eye, but it didn't work out. He's stone blind. So that left it squarely up to me. I knew the captain wouldn't back me up, not without witnesses to make a case. So it looked like I was gonna get that vacation air draw.

I had to go to Florida, to Miami. But first, there was something else I had to dig out of the files. I'm sorry.

I thought you were supposed to be on vacation. Just about to start. Something I had to check out here first. You taking that monkey along for a companion? The one on your back. The one that ought to have been buried in that musty old file you can't keep your nose out of. Green, I know you mean well, but put out, huh? There's only one way I'll ever bury that monkey, and that's... I get your message, Joe. I'll mind my own business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll get my own messages.

Board file, Officer Green speaking. Yes, sir. Sure. Green's preoccupation with the phone call was just what I needed. Give me the number. I took the file out of his sight, riffled through it quickly, and got out the old bench warrant that Judge Arnold had issued. The judge was long dead and the warrant no longer valid, but I had this notion that I might have to use it. By the time Green was through with his phone call, I had the file black on the counter, and he took it and put it away without checking it.

Right, sir. That was quick. You all through? Sure. Okay, now, just let me put this away. Sergeant Croft's got a rush order. See you, Joe. Aren't you going to wish me luck? Vacation? What else could you have? Maybe you're right, Green. I sure hope it turns out that way. All right.

Joe, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you I didn't want to see you for a month, that you're on a vacation? I'm heading for Florida in a couple of hours. I just stopped by to pick up a couple of things. Where about you going? Oh, I figured like maybe Miami Beach. Huh, Miami Beach. Your father and me once had a trip down there to pick up a prisoner.

Before we were both married, that was. Yeah, well, that's better forgotten now. Point was, we made a good friend. I kept up with him. Sam Williams, he's sheriff of Dade County now. You need any help or get in trouble, but you're not going to get in any trouble. Not if I can help it, Captain Stark. But I just maybe might could use a little help.

What kind of help? Well, you know where to go, what to see. Oh, sure. Well, you call on Sam, tell him you're kind of like a son to me, and he'll down there make you a president of the whole state. Incidentally, that Santana kid is off the critical list. He's going to be 100%. Now, I've talked with the deputy inspector and the inspector, too, and you won't be busted. You'll get off with just a censure if...

You keep your nose clean from now on, you get me? I get you, sir. Well... You go on down there, boy, and let the sun not only get some tan on you, but also shine inside and sort of open you up, huh? Give yourself a chance to start living and stop holding a grudge against the world. Ah!

He was such a right guy, I hated to hold out on him. But this gut hunch warned me that he'd never go for what I had in mind. Still, that Sheriff Williams might come in handy to keep me from going all the way. I didn't want to settle it outside the law. But to make up for my father, I was ready to. On the plane, speeding south, I closed my eyes and I...

I tried to imagine what Leslie Peavy would look like now. Just how I'd react when I came face to face with the guy who put a bullet through my father's head. Thinking about it, I was conscious, very conscious of the empty shoulder holster in my gun checked out with the pilot. By the time we landed, it wouldn't be empty anymore. I'd have my gun back with no license to use it in the state of Florida, which

Didn't mean that I wouldn't. I took a bus that turned on Collins Avenue away from the beach. I ran a good piece before the driver nodded to me to get off. PV's auto repair shop had a gas station with it. And they could have used some paint. A couple of cars on the lifts and a bald-headed guy with a permanently peeling red freckled scalp was pumping gas.

I walked over to him as the car he was servicing pulled away. Yes, sir. Hello and welcome to Miami. What'll it be? Gas, oil, white windshield, or are you looking for the men's room? A comic. Just try to keep the days bright. Call me George. What can I do for you? Why don't you talk to the boss? Leslie Peavy, right? Right.

And I wouldn't blame you for wanting to. You'll find a boss right there in the office. Just march on in. I got me a grease job I gotta finish. The moment was here at last. I could feel a knot in my stomach. A gun under my arm as hot as if I'd left it out in the sun to bake. I headed on in to meet a name I'd known all my life. As long as I could remember. Oh.

♪♪ What is it Detective Joe Lombardi expects to do when he meets the man who killed his father? Try to take him back to New York at gunpoint to stand trial with no witnesses left to appear against him? Or just simply put a bullet through his head with that same gun he has no license to carry in Florida? I'll return shortly with Act Three. ♪♪

For a moment, Joe Lombardi stops at the glass door looking into the office. There's a small trim blonde girl sitting working over some books at a desk.

The rest of the office is beyond his sight line, round the corner. He hesitates because of the girl. There's something about her that somehow dissipates his sense of mission. A sudden aching longing that if this were only a vacation, this is the girl he would want to meet on it. A completely irrational thought, but strong enough to force him to make an effort to thrust it aside and enter. Good afternoon. Can I help you?

Yes, I'm looking for a Leslie Peavy. Not anymore, you are. What does that mean? It's like a joke. You're not looking for, you're looking at. What, you mean you're the boss? If you mean do I run this little tourist trap, that's me. But you...

You can't be. Haven't you ever heard of women's lips? That's not what I mean. I mean, I'm looking for a man named Leslie. For some reason, I seem to have caught you clear off base, mister. Joe Lombardi. Mr. Lombardi. But I hate to tell you this. For a pretty good looking guy, you look kind of funny with your mouth wide open. That's beside the point. You got any proof that you're Leslie Peavy?

Sure. Have you got any proof you've a right to question it? These. My credentials. Oh. Badge 703, Detective Joseph Lombardi, Precinct 45, New York City. It's not a very good picture of you. Maybe. I wouldn't say that this is a very good picture of you either. Oh, I quite agree. First of all, it's old enough to be a daguerreotype. And second, it's a man. Oh. Oh, what are you stopping for?

Well, this is an old picture of... Oh. Did you say your name was Lombardi? That's it. Oh, no. Oh, no, not now. Not after all these years. Why? Was your father a policeman, too? That's right. I think that maybe you and I better go and talk somewhere. Why not right here? Oh, I can think of plenty of reasons. Oh.

You see, I never knew about you and your father till a couple of years ago, Detective. My mother died when I was born. I've just always grown up thinking that my last name was Chalmers. Chalmers? Well, that was my mother's maiden name as I found out. How did you find out? Well, things were kind of rough for Dad and me while I was growing up. I never understood why he couldn't get better jobs. He had the ability.

But he seemed so afraid of people, and we always lived in such small towns that a man just had to take what he could get. When did you learn your real name? About six years ago. My dad had a cousin who owned a gas station or auto repair, whatever you want to call it, and he died, and he left it to my father. That's when he...

Well, that's when I first learned that my real name was Peavy. I mean, in order to make it legal and everything. My dad couldn't inherit without telling who he really was. You mean he had to produce his birth certificate, things like that? Yes, of course. Well, I brought you here. It's the only quiet place that I know in the area. And still be able to look out to the sea.

I wish I could appreciate it with you. I really mean that. But I can't stop for things like that now. Well, what are you here for, Detective? To try to drag my father back to trial? He killed my father. Why wouldn't I? After all these years, don't you think he's suffered enough? After all these years, don't you think my mom and I have suffered enough?

This is one of my most favorite spots in the world. The waves rolling in, the gulls. And right down below, in that cove, I found my first starfish. I don't get what you're saying. I know. I just wish I could have brought you here under different circumstances. So, Mr. Sleuth,

Nose to the ground, nostrils wide, mouth panting. You have now tracked down the prey. I wish you joy of it. Now what? Now I'm going to do what you want. I'm going to take you to the arch criminal and see just how you're going to arrange for his arrest. What are we doing here? This is what is known as a hospital for chronic cases.

We are going to visit my father in the terminal ward. What's the matter with him? He has cancer. Incurable. Don't be surprised that he doesn't speak in the most dulcet tones. His larynx is affected, too. I thought...

Maybe I'd made it. I... I'd cheated you long enough. So I'd be gone and my daughter wouldn't get hurt. It isn't that easy. You killed my father, didn't you? Yes. Mr. Peavy, nobody wants to kick a man when he's down. But my father...

All my life I wanted to make up for him that someone took him out for no reason and wrecked my life and my mother's. Your father was a fine policeman, right, Detective? No one finer. So leave it that way. Now, wait a minute, Dad. Just leave it that way, Leslie. How about you, Detective? You gonna let it lay? Why should I?

Because... Nothing you could do... Could make me pay more than I... Already have for that... Stupid act. I might as well have... Been in jail for 35 years. One good thing was my daughter here. Leslie. The only person you can hurt... Is her. Leslie.

Give her a break. Please. I can't. I'm a cop. It's my duty to... I'm not going to take this. Not on myself. I don't care. But for you, Dad. Tell him the truth. I can't. He wouldn't believe me anyway. Well, then I will. Listen to me, Mr. Tough Detective.

My father shot your father in self-defense. He tried to kill him first. Sorry, Miss Peavy, it won't wash. My father fired a warning shot in the air. Oh, the hell he did. There were two witnesses. They saw the whole thing. Then they lied. Why would they lie? Because everybody knew about your father, that he was trigger-happy. All right, that is enough.

I don't blame you for trying to protect your own, but I don't take that from anyone. How could you know anyway? Because I told her, of course, when I had to tell her my real name. Which brings us around full circle again. Okay? Dad, you're in pain. Let me get the nurse. Not for a moment. Let's try to get this straight first. What really happened that night?

I was a pretty wild kid. Nothing real bad, but I wasn't always, like they say, on the side of the law. The night it happened, I was at the time running a little book. No connections, just private, penny-ante stuff. And one of my steadies was the bartender, Barney Sundry.

Osperia, the agony, his daughter, and I went through listening to that tortured story from a dying man. I can tell it in fewer words with less effort. What Peavy claimed was that Barney Saunders was into him for about 75 bucks. Peavy had had a couple of drinks that night. He went in to collect. Barney claimed that he didn't have the dough. He opened the cash register to prove it.

And there was a gun unregistered in there. And to throw a scare into Barney, Peavy lifted it and threatened if he didn't pay up...

He'd have him rubbed out. And that's when my Pop came in. Peavy recognized him. Barney pulled the fake hold-up line and Peavy lost his head and took it on the lam. In his story, when Pop squeezed off, the shadow went right by his ear and he could hear it hit metal somewhere and ricochet. With sheer reflex action, a turn back, fire in return, knowing as he claimed my father's reputation. I wouldn't even have listened to the story except for two things. I swear...

I never meant it. I never fired a gun in my life. Didn't even know how to aim it. If you're all that innocent, how come you didn't hang around to defend yourself? You kidding? You know what happens to a cop killer?

What can I prove? And when I read in the papers that Barney and the cab driver lied, I knew I was cooked. I took it on the lab. But just the same. What do you want to do? Kill him yourself with your questions? Can't you face the truth when you hear it? It isn't all that easy. So what do you plan to do? First of all, I've got to make a phone call. Oh.

Captain Stark here. Captain, it's Joe Lombardi from Florida. Oh. I, uh, I found Peavy, Captain, but he's dying of cancer. Can't even count on a week to live. So let sleeping dogs lie, Joe. Maybe, sir. After two questions. Was my father as trigger-happy as you think I am? Why do you ask? That's the second question.

I always had a notion you dragged your feet some on the case. Was it because that first shot popped fire, it wasn't straight in the air? Now, Joe, we all make decisions and, well, we make mistakes. Sal was my friend. I wanted to protect his memory. And remember, I had no sure proof. Just about where Peavy was standing when he fired, there was a lamppost with a fresh scar on the paint right down to the steel.

Could have been made by a bullet, but it ricocheted, of course, so who's to tell? We never found that bullet. Thanks, Captain. Now, Joe, wait a minute. What are you going to do? Captain, I just plain don't know. Leslie? Oh, why don't you leave me alone? I got something to tell you. Well, I have something to tell you.

He's dead. Now are you satisfied? No. What are you going to do, hound me? No, no, I'm going to drive you home, if you'll let me. Oh, I don't know. All right, what's the difference? I don't think I can see to drive anyway.

What made you drive back here? I don't know. Good place for confession, maybe. Maybe.

Confession? I'm just like my father was. I can see that now. Oh, I had a big excuse to get back at the world, but that wasn't really me. Who was it? I was a kid trying to live up to a kind of idol that my mother built, and who, heaven help her, wanted revenge and made me the way to get it. Maybe I don't blame her too much. She didn't mean it, but to suddenly...

Find out after all these years that my pop was... All right. All right, Joe. I'm sorry. I don't know what... It's all right. Let it go. We both have to get it out of our systems. I had to when I first found out about my father. I mean, who he really was and what he'd done. If it hadn't been for the cancer, I...

Well, that part of it's all over now. I don't know how to apologize. A grown man acting like that. Oh, you were just trying to get rid of the little boy. Like I had to get rid of the little girl. We both... We both had bad luck with fathers. Does that make us two of a kind? I don't know. What are you going to do now, Joe?

Well, I still have over three weeks of vacation time coming. Maybe if I stay down here, could, um... Could we see each other? I guess we could. I have no one else. Me neither. Leslie Peavy and Joe Lombardi. The last two people I ever figured could make a deal. Wait a minute. Let's not rush things. Who's rushing anything? We've got three whole weeks. Oh!

It took a while longer than three weeks for Leslie and Joe to iron out the past. But they did. And as we quoted William Congreve in the beginning, not only murder will out, but eventually, so did love. I'll be back shortly. The End

The one bone of contention before they were married was whether to run the gas and auto repair shop or have Joe return to the force.

It was Leslie who finally convinced him to. A wise woman. She knew the best way to atone for all the past... was for Joe to become the kind of police officer he always should have been. Servant of the people, not an avenging force. It's Lieutenant Joe Labardi now. And his name stands top of the list to replace his old friend and surrogate father... Captain Stark. Just as soon as he retires...

Our cast included Mason Adams, Marion Seldes, Robert Maxwell, Leon Janney, and Gilbert Mack. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown.

And now, a preview of our next tale. Corey, if you walk out of here and don't tell me why... Look, Inga, order some lunch. Have the roast beef, darling. It's good here. And I'll call you. If you go now, I don't want you ever to call me.

Go ahead, slam the door in my face. I really should do exactly that. And I wouldn't blame you. On the other hand, if you let me in, I'll tell you the whole story. I wanted to tell you the whole thing before, but I couldn't. That was part of the deal. I had to get Ray's approval. So I went to him this afternoon and he okayed it.

Well, how nice of Ray. He even liked the idea of your knowing. I'm his slave, Inga. I'm Ray Chaffee's personal slave. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams.

Hey Weirdos, if you enjoy what you're hearing from me and the Weird Darkness Podcast throughout the year, may I ask for a Christmas gift from you? It's an easy one, and it's free to give. This month, just invite two or three people you know to give Weird Darkness a listen. That is truly the greatest gift you could ever give to me.

Letting your family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, and others know about the podcast is incredibly valuable to me, my bride Robin, and our cat, Ms. Mocha Monster. That's it. Tell someone about the show. Drop a link to Weird Darkness in your social media. Maybe send a text to a few folks to wish them a very scary Christmas with a link to the show in that text. It doesn't matter how you do it, but it does make a huge impact when you do.

From all of us here at Marlar Manor, thank you, and Merry Christmas!

♪♪♪

With so many options, why choose Arizona State University? For me, the only online option was ASU because of the quality. Their faculty was really involved with their students and care about your personal journey. The dedication to my personal development from my professors, that's been extremely valuable to me. Earn your degree from the nation's most innovative university.

That's a degree better. Explore more than 300 undergraduate, graduate, and certificate programs at asuonline.asu.edu. ♪

Listen up, folks. Time could be running out to lock in a historic yield at public.com. As of September 23rd, 2024, you can lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account. But here's the thing. The Federal Reserve just announced a big rate cut, and the plan is for more rate cuts this year and in 2025 as well. That's good news if you're looking to buy a home, but it might not be so good for the interest you earn on your cash.

So if you want to lock in a 6% or higher yield with a diversified portfolio of high yield and investment grade bonds, you might want to act fast. The good news, it only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. And once you lock in your yield, you can earn regular interest payments

even as rates decline. Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account at public.com. But hurry, your yield is not locked in until you invest. Brought to you by Public Investing member FINREN SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info.

♪♪♪

♪♪♪

So while other people are watching their returns shrink, you can sit back with regular interest payments. But you might want to act fast because your yield is not locked in until you invest. The good news, it only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account only at public.com.

Brought to you by Public Investing, member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info.

With so many options, why choose Arizona State University? For me, the only online option was ASU because of the quality. Their faculty was really involved with their students and care about your personal journey. The dedication to my personal development from my professors, that's been extremely valuable to me. Earn your degree from the nation's most innovative university.

That's a degree better. Explore more than 300 undergraduate, graduate, and certificate programs at asuonline.asu.edu. And now, in cooperation with police and federal law enforcement departments throughout the United States, the only national program that brings you authentic police case histories. Gangbusters! Special attention. Tonight's

1945, a crime wave of the most serious proportion is spreading throughout the United States. A serious crime is being committed every 40 seconds and a murder every three hours. And so we present Louis J. Valentine, former commissioner of the largest police force in the world, who will interview by proxy the Honorable Fred N. Hauser, District Attorney of Los Angeles County, California. Commissioner Valentine.

Mr. Hauser, I know that tonight's case is about one of the cruelest killers of the last decade. Commissioner Valentine, the facts of tonight's case are almost unbelievable. During January of last year, such police flashes as the following were cracking out over the California airwaves. Attention, Al Simeone, most dangerous gun. Officials hold up the long California coast. Simeone coming with unredeemable injury. Simeone, December 4th, 1930, sent to San...

Assault with deadly weapon. Killer age 32, 6 feet, 1 pound, slender build, dark complexion. Approach with caution. Hello, darling. Oh, Al. Listen, baby, I'm treating you to a late dinner tonight. Well, then I can see you tonight. Yeah, the Flamingo Club for dinner and dancing. Get a table about 11 tonight. Oh, look, if I'm a little late, order a big dinner for us, huh? Steaks, ice cream. Working late again, darling? Yeah. Oh, okay.

I'm crazy for you. You know me for one week and you are crazy for me. You know I am. Okay, Louise, have a big dinner on it. I like a big dinner after I finish my work.

Hey, this is a nice place you got here. Well, we like all people to be happy and gay in Ash's Cafe. Well, to gaiety and to life. And to the success of... Stranger, put away that gun. All of you stay right where you are. This is a hold-up. You, the owner, open a cash register. Yes, sir.

You're joking. Open the cash register. But you've been sitting at the bar drinking for an hour. You're a friend. You're joking. I'm late for an appointment. Open that cash register. All the money. This is all of it. Turn your back and close the register. Why should I close it? Turn your back and close the register.

If anyone moves, I'll kill them, too. I'm late for a dinner appointment. So long, folks. Murder! Killing at Ash's Bar. Wanton murder of proprietor. Killer, slight of build. Black hair. Dressed as fashion plate. Has nervous habit of clearing throat. Description fits that of lone gunman Simeone.

This killer is fiendishly cunning. Sound a general alarm. This man must be taken dead or alive.

Oh, darling, I've ordered the most wonderful dinner for us. La Flamingo's best. You, uh, you like that, huh? Steaks and french fries and broccoli with hollandaise. Only a brunette would know what a man loves to eat. Do you really like brunettes better than blondes, Al? I never looked twice except at a brunette. Well, you're terrific. I've only known you a week, but I'd die for you. Ha, ha, ha.

What a charming way to make love. Al, why were you so late coming tonight? What business are you in? Well, uh, you'll laugh. Why? I'm a toy salesman. I sell children's toys. No, why would I laugh at that? That was why I was late tonight. I had to meet a man at the cafe.

I could make more money, but the pleasure of knowing when you sell toys, little children will play with them and be happy. Oh, Al, you're so sweet. I didn't know there were men like you. Didn't you? No. But you do make money, editor. You always seem to have so much money. The way I got things planned, baby, I'm gonna have lots more. Oh.

This is a hold-up. Quiet. Mr. Blackhead, what did... You've all been hearing the police flashes recently. You know I shoot quick if anyone moves. Well. That's strange. A woman tending barn. I am Mrs. Ortega. My husband owns this tavern. I only do it sometimes to help him.

Your husband here tonight? Yes, in the back room. You thought they go with a veteran of World War I. We have a son who's fighting in the Pacific now. That's nice. Somebody turn the radio on. I like to have music. Thanks. That's the idea. Now, Mrs. Ortega, open a cash register. I will not do it. Miles and I work hard for our money.

The music sounds pretty. Now let's have the music of the cash register open it. No. I should. You should, the mother of a boy who's fighting for your country. He will hear you and not dare talk to me like this. But he isn't here. Don't you touch my wife. No. I stand in front of her. Oh, dramatic, son. You're the one I wanted anyhow. Forget the cash register. Open the safe. I will open it. You can have everything there is. Suits me. Open it.

There. Take it. Scoop it up and give it to me. Put it in this bag. Now you'll turn your back and close the safe. You have everything. Now go and leave us. I said to close the safe. All right. My husband. You cut my husband. My husband.

All patrol cars, murder Ortega Cafe, 5124 Madison Road. Gunman, slight, black hair, immaculately dressed, shot and killed proprietor, Louis Ortega. Investigate at once. Description fits killer Simeone. Squad four, proceed to section and block off.

Oh, Al. Huh? I'm here, on the bench. Oh, it's so dark I didn't see you, Alan.

Gee, I've been so scared waiting for you. Yeah. Come on, sit down. What's the matter, honey? No cute little blonde ever ought to be scared. Well, the park's so dark and you're late. Then all of a sudden I heard the sirens of police cars. Oh, yeah. Some unscrupulous person probably pulled a hold up. Oh, I was foolish. Now you're here, I'm not afraid. I love blondes. No brunettes? I hate brunettes.

I'm afraid you'll sweat me off my feet, Al. Five days and you're it. Good. I had a little work to do, but I've looked forward all evening to meeting you out here on the park bench. Al. Hmm? What do you do for a living? Oh, you'll laugh if I tell you. No, I won't. I'm a salesman for artificial limbs. Limbs? Artificial limbs. Legs, arms...

I don't know. It gives me a feeling of worthwhileness, bringing happiness to people who are unfortunate. Oh, Al, you do. I could make more money other ways, but what's money besides the finer things in life? Al, you're wonderful. Well, I don't think I'm so good, but what's my opinion against thousands? There goes the police siren again. Maddy, you nervous? Of course not.

Not with you here. Just a police car probably hunting down some gunmen. I hope they get him, too. Sure, sure, sure. They're probably after that gunman who's been doing a lot of killing in cafes. Oh. Oh, but don't worry, honey. You've got me right here to look after you. I've got a lot of plans, baby. And you're in every one of them. Mr. Hauser, I certainly agree with you that Al Simeone was one of the cruelest killers of the past decade. I know you have many more interesting facts to tell us. But first...

Now back to Gangbusters and Commissioner Valentine. With killer Al Simone loose, Mr. Hauser, I know the district attorney's office as well as the police were faced with quite a problem. We certainly were, Commissioner, because Simone combined the worst features of a master criminal. He was vicious, tricky, unpredictable. One particular instance should be noted.

Another scotch and soda lady up this way. Attention, please. All cafes and restaurants. Quiet, everyone, please. There's a special announcement coming on over the radio. We are breaking in on this program to make a very special announcement. The killer who has been operating in cafes and taverns is still at large. We ask all cafe owners and tavern owners to keep as little cash in their safes as possible.

Special plainclothes detectives are covering many California cafes.

This killer who has been causing a reign of terror is vicious. Now we will continue with our program. Turn off the radio. It is too depressing. There's some music, please. You know, if that killer came in here, I'd give him a clip on the jaw and knock him flat. Oh, don't talk that way. No, I would, I would. He's probably yelling through and through. It is the man who talks too loud who is the most frightening. Yeah, well, I'd still say I'd hit him with my fists and knock him out. Yeah.

Do not talk so loudly. The people are laughing at you and they... In an amusing way I have. You think I'm the braggart. No, I'm him. Open the cash register. Don't shoot. Don't. I will give you all the money we have. Open it. Yes. Yes, I will open it. I've been watching this place. You have extra money in hand. Come on.

You would take that money from us so hard, my husband, and we work. Oh, don't get him angry, Mama. Let him take all the money and go away. No. We work for it too hard. Don't make a move, anybody. You shot my wife. My wife. If you shot me, I'll shoot anyone else who tries to stop me. Emergency. Double shooting. Southgate Cafe.

Mrs. Gertrude Nelson in serious condition. Mr. Frank Nelson, her husband, has died. Killer slight of build, black hair, immaculately dressed, fiendishly cunning. This killer must be caught dead or alive. Special officers are being assigned to all cafe districts. You look strange, Fingers. The last time I saw you, there were bars in front of you. The same to you.

See, you're hot, Simeone. The cops are sending out flashes about you every night. But I'm like the ghost who disappears. I can use your fingers. How'd you get in my room here? How'd you know where I was? I have ways. Mind if I put this bag of eggs down here on the bed? Eggs? Yeah, yeah. I was on my way home. I get hungry sometimes after jobs, so I buy a few eggs and carry them around in this little paper bag. You go nuts. Don't move quick in the bed and break them fingers.

Maybe if I put them under the covers with you, you might hatch them. Am I awake or are you a nightmare? Thing is, I've thought up a new racket and I can use you. Yeah? Yeah, I've put my last hold up of taverns and cafes. I'm going to give the cops a different kind of headache. Look.

All over Los Angeles, they have check cashing stations. Yeah, they got banks, too. So what? At all the big industrial plants, they got checkbooks. So? So these big corporations make checks out to the employees. The employees go to any one of a couple of hundred cash windows and cash their checks. Go on. You're getting interesting. There are so many of these places, the cops couldn't possibly cover them all. Yeah. Now, uh...

If I had a light-fingered man who could visit a lot of corporations and pick up a lot of loose checks, I could forge the checks, go to one of these cashing booths, and, shall we say, cashing? Brother, this ain't no nightmare. It's a dream. So says what? So says you're good. So says your desert face, hmm? What do I get? Ten percent.

It's a deal. It's good for a couple of grand a week. Oh, careful. I hope I didn't break those eggs in your little paper bag. Look inside and see. What do you think of my bag of eggs? A gun. Thirty-eight.

What a beauty. What a gag. I walk around like a little stuffed shirt with my little paper bag held in front of me. If the cops should start trailing me, I drop the little paper bag. It isn't mine. I don't know what's inside. And they can't hold me for carrying concealed weapons. And when you go to a window to cash a check? I'll place my little paper bag on the window. And if there's any trouble, there's the little gun right at my hand. You're crazy, Simeone. Crazy.

Crazy like a fox. I have a hunch fingers this little check cashing racket's gonna have the cops a-poppin'. Pardon me. Pretend you know me. I'll scream. I'll shout for an officer. I'm an officer. Here's my badge. This is very confidential. I know who you are. A cashier at the Acme check cashing service. What? Yeah. We're contacting you this way so as not to place you in any danger.

Shake hands with me? Yeah. That's a picture I'm putting in your hand. A picture of a criminal we're after. If he stops at your cash window, tell him you can't cash his check. Or to go to the check-cashing window in the terminal building. You understand? Yes, sir. That's all you need to know. We didn't want to contact you at your home. Thank you. That's all.

Hello? This is the Los Angeles Police. Mr. Henry? Why, yes? We're mailing you a picture. Please keep it in the strictest confidence. What do you mean? A picture of a criminal. If this man comes to your check-cashing window, tell him you can't cash his check. He'll have to go to the check-cashing window in the terminal building. I'll do anything you say, sir. The picture will arrive by mail in the morning. Please keep this in the strictest confidence. Yes, I shall be glad to, sir.

Headquarters. Captain, this is Inspector Harwood. Yes, Inspector. There are scores of check-cashing windows in Los Angeles. Now, between the district attorney's office and our own department, we've contacted almost every clerk. If this black-haired killer goes to one of these windows to cash any more of those bogus checks...

I think there's going to be fireworks. Good work, Inspector. We've laid enough traps, but he's avoided every one. We've got to get him before he murders any more people. And if we can, take him alive. Well, I'm going to cover the terminal building myself, sir. And if he's sat there... Yes, what's your plan? The way the terminal building's built, to be a hundred feet away from the booth. But I've had my shoes rubbered, sold, and heaved. I think I can make a run and hit him with a flying tackle. He's quick as a cat with a gun. He's going to have to be this time, sir, because I want to keep on living, too.

Well, hello. Good morning. I, um, want to cash a check. And, uh, don't knock this paper bag of eggs off your window, Reg. I didn't know eggs were so scarce. You men had to carry them around with you. Fresh ones are. I, um, have a wage check I want to cash. Well, let me see it. Yeah. Say, don't you get lonesome sitting in that booth all by yourself?

Sometime. You're a red-headed, then. Yes. You work for the oil company? Oh, yes. $250, eh? I'm a scientist. You are? A scientist who loves redheads. Oh, flatterer.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid you'll have to go down to the terminal building to cash this. Why? Well, we're a little low on funds. I'm sorry, sir. The terminal building. There's a cashier's booth there, like this one. Oh, you can't miss it. It's right in the middle of the building. All right. Oh, don't forget your bag of eggs. You know, I got a weakness for redheads. Have you? Mm-hmm.

Look, after I get my check cashed, suppose I come back and see you. Well, maybe. We could have a lot of fun. All right, I tell you. You cash your check down there, and if you aren't doing anything afterward, come back and see me. It's a date, Red. You'll be seeing me. Maybe. Operator, operator, give me the terminal building, quick.

Is this the terminal check-cashing window? Yes. I've got a check on that cash. Certainly. I'll just put this bag of eggs up on the shelf here. Don't drop them now. I don't want any scrambled eggs at this window. Now, this is a paycheck of $250. Oh, yes, yes. Yeah, right here. This is your signature? It is. That's nice.

You work there long? Oh, about five years. I'm in the research department. You must like that work. Yeah, yeah. It's fascinating. Can you cash the check? Oh, yes, yes. Let me see now. I've got to get my money out.

What identification do you have? I have my cards, and I can show you some of my papers. Good work, Inspector. He's out cold, Captain. What a football tackle. He's a slippery article, Inspector. He had his gun in his bag. Now get these cuffs on him. Inspector, you've tackled the cruelest killer on the West Coast, and he still doesn't know what struck him. He will, though, by the time the courts get through with him.

That's why I wanted him alive. So they could give him what he's got coming to him. What hit me? What hit me? The law, Simeone. The law. Well, Commissioner Valentine, Simeone was convicted of murder. And just three weeks ago today, he was taken into the death room of San Quentin Penitentiary. At two minutes past ten in the morning. Eight and a half minutes later, Simeone was pronounced dead. Dead. Dead.

We all dream, but for some people, what should be a time for their bodies and minds to rest, turns into a nightmare from which they cannot escape. Our next Weird Darkness live stream is Saturday night, December 28th on the Weird Darkness YouTube channel, and during the live broadcast I'll share some of these chilling nighttime stories.

Tales of shadow people, sleep paralysis, and demons who stalk their victims in that place between dreams and reality. I'll share true tales of prophetic dreams, some joyful, some not. Sleepwalking incidents that are both amusing and disturbing. I'll also share real stories of night terrors so horrifying that sleep

became something to fear and dread for those victimized by the night. ***You might not want to sleep after joining our next live-screen. It's Saturday, December 28th at 5pm Pacific, 6pm Mountain, 7pm Central, 8pm Eastern. On the lighter side, I'll also be responding to comments and questions live on the air and doing a giveaway of some Weird Darkness merch.

Prepare yourself for our next live-screen for chilling tales of what some people must endure in an attempt to get some sleep. Find the details on the live-screen page at WeirdDarkness.com.

♪♪♪

Listen up, folks. Time could be running out to lock in a historic yield at public.com. As of September 23rd, 2024, you can lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account. But here's the thing. The Federal Reserve just announced a big rate cut, and the plan is for more rate cuts this year and in 2025 as well. That's good news if you're looking to buy a home, but it might not be so good for the interest you earn on your cash.

So if you want to lock in a 6% or higher yield with a diversified portfolio of high yield and investment grade bonds, you might want to act fast. The good news, it only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. And once you lock in your yield, you can earn regular interest payments even as rates decline.

Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account at public.com. But hurry, your yield is not locked in until you invest. Brought to you by Public Investing, member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info. Stay ahead this fall and winter with Prime IV hydration and wellness. Our immunity armor drip helps you prevent and shorten colds, flu, and viral infections.

Need a weight loss boost? Our peptide treatments help shed pounds and feel great. For the ultimate wellness, try NAD Plus infusions to fight aging, boost brain health, and support addiction recovery. Feel better, live better with Prime IV hydration and wellness at 4910 East Ray Road in Ahwatukee.

♪♪♪

Heads up, folks. Interest rates are falling. But as of September 23rd, 2024, you can still lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account at public.com. That's a pretty big deal because when rates drop, so can the interest you earn on your cash. A bond account allows you to lock in a 6% or higher yield with a diversified portfolio of high-yield and investment-grade corporate bonds.

So while other people are watching their returns shrink, you can sit back with regular interest payments. But you might want to act fast because your yield is not locked in until you invest. The good news? It only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account. Only at public.com.

Brought to you by Public Investing, member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info. Stay ahead this fall and winter with Prime IV hydration and wellness. Our immunity armor drip helps you prevent and shorten colds, flu, and viral infections.

Need a weight loss boost? Our peptide treatments help shed pounds and feel great. For the ultimate wellness, try NAD Plus infusions to fight aging, boost brain health, and support addiction recovery. Feel better, live better with Prime IV hydration and wellness at 4910 East Ray Road in Ahwatukee. Mortmain by John Metcalf. Dramatized for radio by Rebecca Womenshurst. With Robert Glenister as John, Helena Breck as Salome,

and David March as Humphrey Child. The action of the play takes place somewhere in the south of England before the last war. Mortmain. Listen to the sea, a primal sound, that sound of water washing the shore, soothing troubled spirits. I often come here for your sake, Sal, right at this very spot and look out and remember. Memories are all I've left from those few precious days when we both thought you were mine at last, but you were never truly mine, were you?

You belonged to him. He possessed from the start. That fateful day when you became his wife. I was at the church. You never knew that, did you? But I had to go. See for myself. I, Humphrey Ramsden Child, take thee, Salome Clare Miles, to be my lawful wedded wife. Salome Clare Miles, take thee, Humphrey Ramsden Child, to be my lawful wedded husband.

He, middle-aged, sallow, solid, defective. And his mother, Harriet, veiled and slumped in a wheelchair at the back, gibbering throughout the ceremony. I never understood till later. And in the midst of it all, you, my darling, a sacrificial lamb. Perfection. The moon's up already. You look flushed, my dear. Do I? I suppose I am a bit...

Just I'm glad it's all over, the ceremony. I feel I can be more relaxed now. I begin to enjoy myself. The ceremony was the consecration of our vows, Salome. It may be unduly formal to some, but for me it is most fitting for such an important moment in our lives. Of course, I wasn't meaning to be critical. I take all my marriage vows seriously, every one of them. Meaning I don't? For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.

That's how much we are now a part of one another, together from now on. Till death us do part? Oh no, not just until then, but beyond. That's my conviction, Salome. Marriage joins more than our hearts, it binds our souls. Beyond death, throughout eternity. After that, I tried to stop thinking about you both, together. The pain was still too great.

Then about two years later that letter came begging me to meet you. It took courage, you knew that. But in that curious little tea shop you offered a picture of life at Seton Manor with Humphrey. His passions for boating, for moths, his house, the small talk of marriage, his mother. I wasn't convinced that you were entirely honest. But I listened and against my better judgment I accepted your invitation. I always found it difficult to say no to you, Sal.

And you'd assured me I'd have little to do with Humphrey. But on a balmy September night in 1938, I found myself sitting on that ill-fated houseboat. Put on the gramophone, Mary. Good old Humphrey, always wanted to defy superstition. How do you mean? Well, count. How many places? Thirteen. Thirteen at dinner. Very unlucky, some would say. Did you say thirteen? Oh my God, Teddy's right.

wrong florence did you realize there were 13 of us of course you would you mean this was intense naturally and then you're not superstitious about 13 seated at dinner yes of course i'm superstitious but i have always maintained that human fear can be used to good effect dear make yourself clear

I think Florence means that it's bad luck to seek 30 in a dinner. I know she does. It could mean someone's going to die or something like that. Not another death. Oh, don't worry yourself, Heather. It's just a bit of nonsense. Isn't there a play which starts with the guests suddenly realising that they make 30 at the table by Priestley or someone? Barry, I think. Ah, you spoke, Mr Temple. I was just clarifying something for your wife, that's all.

Of course, there's no truth in this consequent death business, but it makes a damn fine topic for table conversation, doesn't it, Mr. Temple? Nothing better than to stir up the crew's complacency just before embarking on a substantial meal, don't you think, Mr. Temple? You've all found your places. Salome has made such exquisitely delicate little name tags for you all. And now the first course, I think. What a little moonlight can do. Oh.

So, you're a friend of Humphrey's, Mr Temple? Oh, please, call me John. Miss... I'm Heather Fleming. That's my husband, Andrew, sitting over there next to Edward Scrivener. And I'm not exactly a friend of Mr Child's. I've known Sal, Salome, since we were children. Oh, really? Oh, that's nice. Well, nice for her. Here's the main course. Humphrey always serves superb food, quite delicious.

Everything looks so beautiful, darling, just like dining on a big Atlantic liner. I'd enjoy myself a good deal more if that infernal Fleming woman stopped gossiping with your friend. Oh, Heather, she's a dear, and she doesn't gossip. She's just trying to make people feel at home. I don't think it's any right of hers to make people feel at home. She's my guest, and she insists on masquerading as some pretentious hostess. That's absurd! What's got into you?

Yes, good night.

You've always said so. She's a good woman. Now I find her presence intolerable. We couldn't have excluded the Flemings tonight. Heather loves coming, and she's always been like a mother to me. Andrew's all right. I can't think how the old boy tolerates that infernal prattle day in, day out. If she belonged to me, I'd find a way to silence her, teach her a lesson. It's all right, everyone. Don't panic.

Don't panic! Tim was just showing us his famous egg balancing act and he's blown the salt off!

If you want to pick on your guests, you do no worse than making an example of Florence. She's so vulgar and awful laughter. If ever a man suffered constant humiliation, it's not Andrew Fleming, but Terence. As always, you miss my point. There is no pretension in Occy. She's clean, unadulterated cheapness. An exquisite concoction of all that is worldly and destined for the moth and rust.

Sometimes you talk in riddles. Not till you solve them. Of course, it came as a great surprise to us when Humphrey announced he was getting married. A confirmed bachelor married to Seton Manor in this old boat. Hmm.

And of course, there was his mother, you know. Absolutely devoted to her he was. Took her death very much to heart. Oh, really? Well, they said it was senile dementia. Only it was worse than that, and the poor dear eventually had to be committed. Must have been all of eight years ago now. I never realised. Humphrey never breathes a word. Well, it's not the sort of thing one broadcasts, is it?

You'll think me a morbid old thing, talking like this over such a lovely meal. You'll have a charming young man of a company. Now, don't misunderstand me, John. We're so glad Salome came into Humphrey's life when she did. There was a time we really feared he'd go the same way as his mother.

You see, the locals started spreading all kinds of rumours. Strange behaviour and all that. We never saw any evidence of it ourselves and we never set store by any such gossip. One can't in the country. Personally, I just think Humphrey's one of life's eccentrics. He certainly has an individual taste in clothes. All this gossip started about ten years back.

People claim that Humphrey was indulging in unnatural practices, whatever that might mean. They say he stole dogs from the village and took them back here to the estate. They were never seen again. And then headless sheep were supposedly found entangled in some barbed wire at the entrance to the manor. They claimed Humphrey had ritualistically slaughtered them. Oh!

Dreadfully far-fetched, and quite honestly... Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention for a minute? I'd like to propose a toast to the happy couple. I'll give you oomph and salome. Happy anniversary. Many more to follow.

Humphrey? Yeah, let me... Humph! Humph! Now you should give a speech, a response. Please, Ocky, sit down. No, I want a speech. You've got to make a speech, Humphrey. It's traditional. It's what Harriet... It's what your mother would have wished. Oh, dear, I don't think she should have said that. Friends, I am encouraged by my cousin Florence to address you. I intend to be brief. Turn down the music, Mary.

We meet tonight to celebrate a special anniversary. But in our celebrating, let us not forget our debt to the past. Until two years ago, as you know, Seton Manor had long been mourning its true mistress, my mother Harriet. Let us remember that it was my mother who breathed life into us, who fastened us, she from whose loving touch no nook or cranny was spared.

She who said it even now, I sense within, encircling us at dinner. Though her body is passed from us, let us not forget her. But then, exactly two years ago, I finally caught my beautiful Salome and brought her home. She is young in years, and like a pretty little moth, must bat against the light that Harriet has left behind.

But before you all tonight, I make this solemn vow. My house I hold most dear. My estate I hold most dear. And my wife, my most valued possession, I also hold most dear. I have her, and in time-honored fashion, I will keep. I offer a toast to us, to life, to death, and to the hereafter.

There's your speech, Florence. And I trust my beloved Salome that your appetite for occasion is duly sated. Ladies and gentlemen, if you care to make your way back to the house, I'll organise the sweet trolley to be brought out on the terrace.

Little girl's room?

Oh, you mean the lavatory, Heather. When you reach the house, up the stairs, straight in front of you, and it's the first door on the right. Oh, by the way, forgive the smell there. We've only just finished decorating. Thank you, dear. Urgent, you see, too much bubbling. Oh, and Heather, if you need a hand towel, they're in the large closet just behind the bathroom door. Just help yourself. Yes, I will. Now, Major, what about that malte?

Sal, are you all right? Of course. Why? Humphrey's little speech back there was an outrage. I thank you not to insult my husband, not while you're here as his guest. I'm not his guest, and he's under no illusion about that either. People always misunderstand. He was just being funny, that's all. Funny? Oh, I see. Just as he was about the 13 people at dinner, upsetting Mrs Fleming with all that talk of death and superstition. Oh, now you're going over the top. Heather knows Humphrey better than anyone. Enough to think him strange at times? Eccentric? What do you mean? Come on, Sal, he's warped.

His whole behaviour makes it so blatantly obvious. He's contemptuous of everyone here tonight. And what's worse, that contempt clearly extends to you. He has no regard for your feelings. That is quite enough. He's worth ten of you put together. That's not true. There's something very wrong here. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the whole place exudes a sense of misery and oppression. I felt it as soon as I arrived yesterday.

And Humphrey's performance tonight has convinced me I'm right. Oh, that's nonsense, John. Now stop it. You know I'm talking sense, Al. You felt it too. That's why you wrote to me. No. Wanted to see me. Insisted I should come and stay. You could have told me when you said you wouldn't feel settled until I'd visited you here. And now I realise why. This is no marriage of kindred souls. There's no love here with some kind of bondage. I love him, John. Love him. Good Lord.

Did you hear that? Sounds like some wretched animal caught in a trap. Do you keep any animals? No, nothing like that. Humphrey detests them. Anyone seen Heather? I think she went into the house, to the bathroom. She wasn't sure of the way. Oh, it's upstairs. Andrew, I think your wife's been taken ill. Come on, we must go inside. Where's Humphrey? Humphrey? Where are you?

Quick, which way is the bathroom? Upstairs. Follow me. Where's the light? I'll lead you. I've refurbished the first floor. We decided to keep the main bathroom there. Can't be smart that you used it. Next door to our room is very convenient. Are we there yet? It's up here. Put a light on. I can't see a thing. This is the bathroom here. The switch is outside somewhere. Yes, we'll have to feel for it. Found it!

Oh my God. There are moths everywhere. Heather. Oh, she's here. Oh dear God, they're all over her. Quickly, give me a hand. We've got to get them off. Oh, they're in her mouth. It's her eyes everywhere. Oh God. All right, Heather. All right, you'll soon be okay. I'm going to try to get a window open and get these things out of here. Heather, it's Salome. Can you hear me? You're all right. You're going to be

You've had a bad shock. Just sit here with me for a while. You will be up soon. When you're better, we'll go downstairs. Oh, my God, what's happened? Somehow Heather's stumbled onto some of Humphrey's marks. Don't just stand there like some great Gormley slum. The old girl needs branding. Heather! It's all right, Mr. Fennig. The wife's had a bit of a shock, but she's fine. It's all right, Gormley. It's all gone.

you're safe you're safe now darling where on earth could these have come from there's hundreds of them they're hamphreys he collects them i can't think how they got here perhaps you and ted can take her downstairs yes

Andrew, there's some smelling salts downstairs in the kitchen, but please take some. I've a number of a good emergency doctor in Bursalton. I say, anyone notice the smell? For a moment I thought the old girl had... Oh, you know, when someone's had a bad shock, perfectly normal. Yes, I noticed it too. Sickly, sweet. Something has very decidedly gone off. There seems to be something at the bottom of this closet. Has anyone got any matches? No, no, no, it doesn't matter. I can reach inside.

What is it? Something warm and moving. Moving? Stand back, everyone. Whatever it is, I think it's best to drag it out into the open. What is it? It's a dead dog. Very badly decomposed. Sealing with maggots. Get in here. I expect Humphrey put it there. I can't stand any more of this. I'm going to get to myself a brandy. What do you mean, Humphrey put it there?

In a bathroom cupboard, for God's sake. Some of his moth are carrion feeders. They need flesh for food. Humphrey's told me that before now. He must have put the dog here. God knows who the poor thing belonged to. Look, it's still got a collar round its neck. And where the hell is Humphrey? He called us all in here. What does it matter, John? Let's just get rid of it and forget about this. Forget? Oh, that would be too easy. Yes, let's forget. While some poor, defenceless old lady lies half delirious downstairs because of your husband's disgusting hobbies. Never in a lifetime. Look, just because...

I mean...

I do. Listen to him. The man is mad. He's not safe, Sal. Come with me now while there's still time. No, I can't. Please. You can't make me. You don't understand. Then I can't help you. No, don't leave me. I can't do any more. You've made your choice. You're free to do so. I loved you. I lost you. I found you again. And now... Oh, no, John, don't. I beg you.

Don't go tonight. You just don't understand. God be with you, Salome. You must live this nightmare. Why have you done this to me? For better or worse. Why did you upset our guests? Where were you when Heather had her accident? I'm a Lorelei. In reverse. I lure them onto rocks. They crash upon the rocks of life.

into the tides of death. My God! Don't you think I look fetching today, my love? Isn't it a beautiful dress? Where did you find that, Humphrey? Take it off! Oh, you know my son, I see. Your son? That's right. He's a good boy. Stop it! This is grotesque! Stop it, Humphrey! Oh, no! I'm not Humphrey Child. My name's Harriet Child. I can wear my hair in a bun now.

but i still have a little problem with my beard dr matthews it's salome child yes straight away i don't know how this started but he's on the roof and he has a dog and he's threatening to set in a light

I'm sorry, my medication can't help anymore. He needs something much stronger. He's going the same way as his mother. You're committed. I fear it's in the blood. You're committed, Dr. Matthews. Mrs. Child, there's every chance your husband is no longer harmless. I believe him to be criminally insane. Criminally insane? Can nothing be done? Nothing. Mrs. Child, it's for the best. We have stronger drugs there. He'll respond. He'll be quite comfortable. Oh. Dr. Matthews. Oh.

What are they doing? Trying to give him an injection to calm him down. It happens in these cases. What's happened now? He's all right. I must go to him. Mrs. Child. Oh, my God. I'm afraid the straitjacket was necessary. I really didn't want you to see. But you did want to see, didn't you, Salome? See how my mouth flutters now? You may think I'm mad, but...

But I tell you, I know secrets of the universe you couldn't even guess. - Come away, Mrs. Child. This is all too distressing. - That's right, Mrs. Child. Do what the nice says. But wherever they take you, I shall find you. You're mine, Salome, forever. You promised me till death us do part. Remember? And I tell you, death shall not part. Not part. - Death.

Humphrey Child seemed preoccupied by death and dying. For six months you tried to save him, then you wrote again, again begging me to help. I couldn't believe what he'd done to you. That haunted look. I wanted to take you away. But again you insisted on staying. Even in madness he had a good sense of timing, as though he was playing with us all. Then suddenly, for you, my darling, that merciful release. Only call to pass on our respects. When did it happen?

Of course, I blame her. Never really gave the poor man a chance. If you ask me, she only married him for his money. It's obvious she didn't love him. He was too good for her. I want only a small affair. Just family. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Humphrey Ramsden child, five years beloved husband of Salome Clare child. Death shall not part us. Shall not part us. And in time-honoured fashion I shall keep.

Our honeymoon should have been perfect.

You're very bright this morning. And why not?

I feel the sun shining on me. Suddenly life is good. I'm happy and fulfilled. And I've got my pipe, a tin of my favourite backy. Oh, you! Yes, and I've got my girl, Sal. Careful! The eggs! It's all right. Save them. Oh, you're a romantic, John Temple. I always suspected it beneath all that tweed and pipe smoke. If a fellow can't be romantic on his own honeymoon, then there's no justice in the world. I still can't believe it. It's like a dream.

Oh, I'm so frightened. I'll wake up and all this will disappear. Now, stop all that maudlin business. Right, you ready? Big or little helping of our special scorched scrambled egg. Burnt, more like it. Coffee? Oh, please. Milk? Just as it comes, you know me. I like to think I do. Oh, delicious. Can't beat it, really, can you, all this? The isolation, I've loved it all my life. I never really went sailing. Well, how the f*** have we dined on that night?

He called it Daisy. A stupid name for a boat. Arbody was very fond of it. Used to sail by night studying moths along the river. Never took me with him. Now, you don't have to think about any of that. It's all past history. You're Mrs John Temple now. Oh, I know. It makes me feel very safe somehow. Really? Of course. Have I behaved very selfishly? Why? Making you a marriage offer at a time when I knew it would be hard for you to refuse. John, they took Humphrey away over a year ago.

During that last 12 months of his life, well, he was in no sense of the word a husband to me. He used to get very abusive. That business of dressing up like a woman, well... In the end, I think he really believed he was his mother. Darling, please. No, no, it's good to tell you. It helps. He always used to say he'd find me, though. Wherever you are, little moth, I'll find you. I was always the worst bit, like a threat. I used to lie awake at night, anxious, in case he escaped and came looking for me. He...

It's silly, isn't it? I don't think so. You know, when you finally wrote to me after Humphrey went away, I felt as if I'd been rescued. I can't describe the sense of relief. I kept my word. I only had to wait for the inevitable and I knew you might accept me at last. I knew it was just a question of time. What's that line? There's a destiny that shapes our ends, rough-hewn them how we will, or something like that. Oh, you show-off. No, not really.

I just want to make up for all the time we've missed. Introduce you to all my old haunts. So that's why you wanted to come here. We needed somewhere private. What could be more perfect? Alone on Windhover 2. It was the perfect solution. Our own little island. Set in a silver sea. I see more like. I had a dip when I got up. Talk about goose pimples. Good job I've got a strong heart. All the better for having me in it. Happy? I think so. Only think so?

It was a bit of a shock last night. Passing Seton Manor. Too many ghosts, you mean? I hadn't been back since the day Humphrey was taken to the asylum. At the time, I simply walked out and left it, but it still came as a shock. I suppose I hadn't realised just how close we'd be. I only called you on deck to see those gannets flying against that brilliant sunset. Never even noticed that. Strange. It wasn't the memories that upset me. It was the way the place had deteriorated that hit me most. The whole place seemed to be rotting.

I almost felt it was watching me, angry at me for going away. Good Lord! What on earth was that? Some bloody idiots round the side. You stupid fool. Why didn't you look what you're doing? Sorry we bumped into you, old man. Wife had a spot of trouble with the oars. What is it, darling? I told you. Florence! I said to Ted, I thought I'd seen Sonomi, child. I saw you, not again.

in the world taking the sun, weren't you, yesterday morning? Of course you were. I knew it was you. That's why I said to Ted, didn't I? I said, if we need some shackles, why don't we row the dinghy over tomorrow morning and find out if that white boat's got any to spare? And if it is, slow me, child, I said. She'll... So won't you slow me? This lady isn't Mrs Child anymore. She's my wife. My name is Temple, John Temple. We don't have any spare shackles, and if you don't mind, right now, I'd like to inspect the damage. Oh, dear, we appear to have put our foot in it as usual. Dear, Amy.

Well, I know who you are. Sidney didn't realise so soon after poor old... John, darling, this is Florence Scrivener and her husband Edward. Ted, please. How do you do? He was a bit scraped about the stern. Didn't we meet once at my cousin Hump's place, Seton's? I don't remember. Of course we did. Same night old Mar Fleming took a wrong turn and got...

Lots of giant moths. Oh, well, something flappy. Would you like to come on board? John was just making some coffee. Oh, no, I don't think that's a very good idea, especially after the paint business. We really ought to be on our way, Hockey. How nice, running into you again.

Listen to that running into you. Mind you, I wouldn't have recognised the old tub. Tarted it up a bit by the looks of things. Much better shape than I remember it. Humph had it painted pink, as I recall. This is not Humphrey's boat, it's mine. And honestly, we don't have any shackles to spare. Oh, don't worry about that. We'll make out somehow. Well?

Oh, you know, I can't believe it. Humph dead and buried not long since. And look at you now, dear, positively blooming. How long is it since? A month, Florence, almost to the day. After all, you should know. I seem to remember you were at the funeral in full black. Really? Oh, how interesting. He was a remarkable man, my cousin, very remarkable. I wonder what...

make of his little Salome remarrying quite so soon? My wife's name is Salome, as you well know. OK, time we were going. I'd say the old welcome and all that. Oh, never could stand pussyfooting around. Sorry about the paint. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. Hateful woman. He was trying to stop her.

Is the damage bad? No, not really. Just scraped off the paint along there, see? So bloody careless. Flaming amateurs. What an awful people, those two. Yes, I never liked them. Although Ted seemed all right. He was quite nice in his own way. You know, I think we'll make a push ahead of schedule. It's getting a bit crowded round here, and I'd like to get to Corrott's farm by mid-afternoon. Do you mind? Oh, not a bit. After seeing those two, I feel I want to move away from Seton for good. Huh.

and I thought we'd left your past behind for good as well until later that evening we'd been sitting on deck after supper when I suddenly spotted that boat again we'd seen it once already the night before a curious shaped thing with cut down mast painted an awful sort of pink and exuding an air of neglect I was joking about people's taste when you abruptly said it was too cold to stay on deck and went below what are you looking at? nothing come on what was it? these some photos

Old photos of Seton and the boat. I was just seeing... You mean his boat? Is this where he used to sail? Yes, now and then. Sometimes he kept it not far from here. John, it's odd, but I don't know how these came to be here at all. I found them in my suitcase when I unpacked it. It's almost as if someone put them there. Sal, it's all over. Humphrey Child is dead. Everything is all right, isn't it? I suppose so. Of course it is. You hop into bed, give me those, and I'll tear them up.

Chuck them overboard, commit them to the waves, and then I'll join you for an early night. We can wash up in the morning. Salome! Salome! Salome, it's OK. It's OK, I'm here. I'm here. I'm here. Nothing can hurt you. Nothing. Shh, shh, shh. I thought I'd woken up, but all I could see... All I could see was Humphrey's face grinning down at me and his voice calling out my name.

I felt something beating in my face. I screamed and woke up. It was a giant moth. Over there by the mat, I hurt it when I brushed it away. It's still there, crawling. Laddie, brute! There, that's you finished. Oh, John. And you, my girl, can start by coming clean about that boat we saw. It's Humphrey's old bark, isn't it? I think so. What do you mean, think so? You know it is. Yes, all right. You recognised it when we saw it last night. Yes, all right. I did. But what was the point in telling you?

I knew you'd be upset. Besides, I'm convinced it's following me. Oh, brilliant. We see the same boat two times and now it's following you. No. I've seen it more than twice. The first night we docked at Skippers, I saw it then. I thought nothing of it, but when it appeared the next evening, I had to worry. And you said nothing? Nothing? I am your husband, remember? That doesn't mean you own me. You can't order me to tell you everything. You are coming with me right now. We're going to take the dinghy and we're going on board that paint wreck.

You are going to meet the people who have obviously hired it for a holiday. And you're going to set these bloody, stupid ideas about phantom ships pursuing you right back to Davy Jones's locker where they belong. No! No, please don't make me. I beg of you, Humphrey. You called me Humphrey. I thought your face. I'm sorry for a moment. It was Humphrey. It's gone. The blight is gone. I saw it. It was there only five minutes ago. You'll let off this time, Sal.

But the next time we see that wretched boat... You, Humphrey! About last night, we need to talk. I know. There are so many things I haven't told you, but I'd forget the past, like you said, and not let my memories upset me. I shouldn't have lost my temper. I'm sorry. It was unforgivable. It wasn't like you. I've never heard such anger in your voice before, such intensity. I didn't believe you could be so violent. Yes, it scared me too. I just completely lost control. I'm very sorry. It'll never happen again, never.

I promise. I know it's nonsense, but Humphrey's face last night, it was so real. And he was here again this morning, the moth. I felt it touching my mouth. I felt it. I felt it crawling over my skin and I heard it beating its wings. John, I didn't tell you the whole truth last night. I have seen Humphrey's boat twice, but I was so frightened. It seemed to rise up slowly out of the water. What?

I didn't tell you because it looked more and more decayed, more broken up, as if possessed by something rotten and evil. I can't explain. I was drawn to it. I was waiting for watching. I could sense something drawing me down into the water. It's calling me, but don't let me go.

You mustn't trust me, do you understand? You must stop me, whatever happens, stop me. We must return to land now, immediately. I want to be locked in. Locked in the cabin. But I... If you don't, it will claim me without question. He will claim me. Really did love me, you know. And I love you too. Remember that. You're safe now, darling. Nothing can claim you. About another half mile, Sal, and we can land.

Can't say I won't be relieved, but ashore. My God! My God, what was that? Shit, she's out of control. Swinging to port. Stop. It's Humphrey's boat. Rising out from the water. Rotted almost. My God, the speed. Salome! Salome! Death shall bite us. You shall not have her! She's mine! And mine she shall stay!

Humphrey's voice. I swear I heard it. Oh, my God, it's one of those child moths. No, not my moth. I've come to claim what's mine, Salome. Till death us do part, my dear. No, Humphrey, I'm not ready. Please leave me alone. John! John! Help me! Open the door, please! He can't hear you, my beloved. He has thoughts only for his precious boat. Come with me now.

I've come to take you home. It's over, Sal. We're all right. It's over. Sally. Sally. Sal. Sal. Sally. Sally. Oh, no. Oh, no. Not that, please, God. Not that. You'd gone, of course, though there was no sign of a struggle, nothing at all to suggest that you'd ever been. Just a moth on your pillow, broken. It was as if you'd never been my wife, Salome. Never existed. Just nothing. No body. Nothing.

All I have left is my heart, my memory. The sea, the sea has yawned. And in time-honoured fashion I shall keep, keep, keep. Robert Glenister played John, Helena Breck Salome and David March Humphrey in Mortmain by John Metcalfe.

Florence Anne Windsor Edward Ronald Herdman Heather Gudrun Joer Andrew Jonathan Adams Tom John Church

Mort Main was dramatized by Rebecca Wilmshurst and directed by Martin Jenkins. Hey, weirdos! Our next Weirdo Watch Party is Saturday, January 18th, and sci-fi film host and all-around nice guy Jukesua is back with another terrible B-movie. This one from the infamously inept Roger Corman. From 1958, it's War of the Satellites. And yet you propose to follow this tenth failure with another attempt?

An unknown force declares war against planet Earth when the United Nations disobeys warnings to cease and desist in its attempts at assembling the first satellite in the atmosphere. It's a movie eight weeks in the making, and it shows on every frame of film. See the last few seconds with a wire holding up a planet.

See the satellites spinning in different directions every time you see them. "There it is, the barrier." "All those men in that satellite will die." See shadows somehow being cast onto the backdrop that is supposed to be outer space. "Sigma barrier dead ahead. Crash emergency. All hands secure for blast." You'll even see actors wearing the same clothes day after day after day because...

Who knows? War of the Satellites! Join us online as we all watch the film together on January 18th at 7pm Pacific, 8pm Mountain, 9pm Central, 10pm Eastern on the Monster Channel page at WeirdDarkness.com. The Weirdo Watch Party is always free to watch - just tune in at showtime and watch the movie with me and other Weirdo family members

and even join in the chat during the film for more fun. We're always cracking jokes during the movie, usually at the actor's or director's expense, but hey, it's all worthy of criticism. It's Jukesua presenting Roger Corman's War of the Satellites from 1958.

You can see a trailer for the film now and watch horror hosts and B-movies for free anytime on the Monster Channel page at WeirdDarkness.com. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash TV and we'll see you Saturday, January 18th for our Weirdo Watch Party!

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So while other people are watching their returns shrink, you can sit back with regular interest payments. But you might want to act fast because your yield is not locked in until you invest. The good news, it only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account only at public.com.

Brought to you by Public Investing, member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info. Stay ahead this fall and winter with Prime IV hydration and wellness. Our immunity armor drip helps you prevent and shorten colds, flu, and viral infections.

A green hornet. A green hornet.

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

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The adventure not one cent for tribute. The events and characters depicted in this drama are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The adventure not one cent for tribute.

Is that the gas station on the next corner, Kruger? Not that one, Zellie. Did you see how much he's charging for gas? That one's okay. The one we want is on the next corner. Which way? Turn left. There's the place. Here it goes! Ha, ha, ha.

Well, boys, I guess we won't have no more trouble with that guy. Not now, Slagle. Drink up, boys.

You sure the bomb did a good job? I was watching through the rearview mirror, Schlegel. Kroger tossed that pineapple right into the middle of the gas pump. Don't worry, boss. You can pick up what's left of the place with an eyedropper. That's fine. From now on, he'll pay protection to O along with the rest. You've got a sweet racket, Schlegel. Sure. Every gas station in the city is kicking in. They're paying for protection, Telly. I make sure nothing happens to them. And if they don't pay? They run into trouble like tonight. You're

You were careful not to let anyone see you? We went by too fast, boss. Yeah, we used a stolen car. Ditched it a couple of blocks further on. The only guy that has an idea of us is the guy we bombed. Catch him talking. Besides, he don't know for sure. At least got his suspicion. Right. A guy who's scared don't make a good witness.

You need more than suspicions for proof. You said it, boss. As for the police, they can't prove a thing when they ain't got witnesses. Mr. Chase, get the district attorney on the phone for me. I have a lawyer here when I'm through talking. Yes, Mr. Reese. Sign it up.

Wow, he looks like a three-alarm fire the way he's burning up. Sally, get the district attorney on the wire. And tell Larry to stop cutting out paper dolls and come in here on the double. Mr. Reed's in a hurry. And I do mean hurry.

I wonder what it is this time. Last week he was turning out scorching editorials on dangerous drivers and how they were a menace on the city streets. Yes, Mr. Reed? Get me all the information we have on the recent gas station accident. Now bring it to me as soon as you get it. Or is that the district attorney? Mr. Reed's office.

Just a moment. Yes, Mr. Reed, it's the district attorney. I'll switch him on your wire. I have it. Get busy on that list. Hello. Hello, let me have the morgue. Don't tell me, Casey. The boss is going to make me the love-born editor. You'd do better at a rape track, Lowry. Hello, morgue? Morgue? Did somebody die? Not that morgue, silly. The place where we keep all the back copies of the Sentinel. Oh, no, Casey, you're kidding me. If there's any information he wants, I have it at my fingertips. Listen to Casey.

Mr. Reed wants all the information you have about recent gas station accidents. That's it, huh? I don't care how you get them. Well, check with the police. Go through your back copies. Casey, that last gas station that was blown up was a shambles. Wrecked pumps, gasoline. I never saw such a mess. It doesn't take a reporter to see that. Do I detect a note of sarcasm in that last crack? You do.

Honestly, Laurie, it's an open secret who's back of all these bombings and fires. Really? Slagle, that's who. Tell me something I don't know, Casey. Then why don't your stories say so? Listen, Casey. Sure, Slagle controls the gas stations in this town. He's got a protection racket that brings in the scent on every gallon. Then why don't you... But the Sentinel can't print that. There's no proof.

the soot from here to christmas my idea of heaven would be someplace where a newspaper can print what everybody knows is true even though it can't be proved yeah but this place isn't heaven not all flagalists here well maybe the district attorney can do something heaven talking to him laura just finished did he have anything mr reed not a thing miss kish how about that last bombing boss yeah it's the same story all over again laura suspicions with no proof

Even the owner of that gas station refuses to talk. And meanwhile, that snake Slagle keeps raking in all the gas he can get his grabbing hands on. There's one consolation, Mr. Reed. Yeah, Casey? None that I know of, Miss Casey. What I mean is, Slagle's only taking money from gas stations. Well? One cent difference in the price of gasoline isn't going to affect people so much. Miss Casey, you're making the same mistake that others do. The price of gasoline is as important as any other. But suppose Slagle's lack of a meat and vegetable market. People wouldn't be able to get the right kind or amount of food.

Now, you can't compare... It's practically the same thing. Keep your ears open, Casey. Here's where you get a lesson in simple economics. Meat and vegetable markets use trucks in their business. Yes. They have to pay the same higher price for gasoline that slag off courses from everyone else. But a cent a gallon... Well, that adds up. If they spend more for gasoline, they have to make it up somewhere else. In other words, if their expenses go up, they have to charge the public more for the food they're selling. You'll hit it, boss. And the same goes for every family that uses a car. Exactly.

Every cent they have to spend for gas means one cent less to buy milk and eggs and fresh vegetables for the family table. Of course. I didn't start to think. More people did think, Miss Case. Rocketeers like Slagle would never get started. Too late for that now. Slagle's got the gas station tied up tighter than Houdini. That's why I called you. We're going after every one of those gasoline dealers. Why, boss?

If we can find one man who acts as witness against Slagle, that's all a district attorney will need. They're sending the names up from the morgue, Mr. Reed. Go after them, Lowry. Take Clicker Benny with you. Okay. We ought to be able to convince somebody that he's smart to act as witness. Lowry and Clicker Benny made the rounds of the gas stations, which had recently had accidents, but their search was fruitless. They could find no one who would consent to appear against Bats Slagle.

They approached the gas station run by a man named Jennings. Lowry said... We're not having much luck, Licker. Everybody gives us the same story. I can't blame them exactly, Lowry. How would you like it if something happened to your family? I haven't got a family. Yeah, but most of these gas station operators have. Besides, they can't help much. They say they can't, but I know they... It may be true...

Apparently, Bat Plagle is pretty careful about making sure there's no actual evidence against him. Benny, all these accidents can't have just happened. Plagle's responsible, all right. There's no doubt about that. Only all the victims claim they saw nobody, heard nothing, and know nothing. I still say they're scared. How about this guy here? What's his name? Jennings. Okay, watch me work. It'd be about time. Nothing's worked so far.

He isn't out here. Must be inside the station. Yes, sir. You want some gas? Mr. Jennings? That's right. If they didn't hear you, I was busy checking in with a business I've been doing. How is business? Could be better. Who wants to know? Paying one cent tribute and every gallon the slag will cut into the province, doesn't it?

Listen, mister, you here to buy gasoline or what? Hold on, Mr. Jennings. We don't mean to be rude. If you want gas, I'll sell it. If you don't, clear out. You don't understand. We're from the Daily Sentinel. Sure. He does the recording and I take the pictures. How would you like your picture in the papers, Mr. Jennings? My picture? Yeah, the Sentinel's running a series on gas station operators. We want to tell our readers... Don't kid me. About some of our late...

Huh? You heard what I said. You ain't fooling me with that serious stuff you hear about Batswagle, ain't you? Nice work, Lowry. Okay, Jennings. I won't stall. How about it? You know plenty about the way Slagle works. Me? Not a thing. I suppose Slagle didn't like your place last month. Where'd you get that idea? This...

It was an accident. The gas tank exploded. Oh, Mr. Jennings, don't hold out on us. Come on, Jennings, you know it was Slagle. Hand it on him and you'll be a hero. Yeah, I'd rather be alive. But I figured it wouldn't do any good anyway. I didn't see nothing. You were here when it happened, weren't you? Sure, but I didn't see anybody.

I tell you, it was an accident. See, an accident. Just like the rest of them. Afraid to talk. Listen, you. Take a tip and get out of here before I get mad. Looks to me as if all of you are yellow. I'm warning you to get out. Letting Slagle make monkeys of you. Yellow as a chrysanthemum. Now get out and stay out. Don't come around again looking for a story. You'll get another poke in the jaw. Oh.

Don't tell me, Laurie, the only result of sending you and Miss Binney out is that bruise on your chin. Oh, the big jellyfish smacked me when I wasn't looking. Does it sound much like a jellyfish to me? Not this fellow, Mr. Reed. He was mad. What do I mean about Flagle, Mr. Reed? They were all jellyfish. You know the guy who socked me wouldn't open his mouth about Flagle?

Compared to them, the plan could talk your ear off. Lowry, I don't quite approve of your tactics in questioning this man Jennings. I couldn't help it, boss. By the time I got around to him, I was fit to be tied. Reporters are supposed to go out for facts, not fights. On the level, boss. I tried being polite. You know Lowry, Mr. Reed. If he can't get facts one way, he uses another. Whether any of them has something on Slagle or not, I don't know. All I know is they won't talk. Mr. Benny, you've been trying to conceal a grin ever since Lowry, you came in here. Me? Yes.

Did you snap a picture of Jennings hitting Laurina? Huh? Well, I, uh, my camera was handy and I just took it. Clicker, you double-dealing little... Give me that camera. Hey, can't a girl take a few shots for a private collection? Let go, you glass-jawed... Hold on, both of you. It'll ruin me, Paul. Clicker, show that print all around the city room. You said it. I'll have it enlarged, too. Clicker, I'll buy that picture from you. How much? Never mind that.

Rush the phone to the darkroom, Miss Binnie. That shot is going on page one. As long as she doesn't... What? You're going to publish it? Why, boss? Why? With a caption under it reading, This man is not afraid of hitting a reporter. Why is he afraid to talk about Schlegel? Wow! I've been waiting for a chance like this all my life!

Why don't that newspaper mind its own business? Putting my picture on the front page. Now, Jim... But Alice, I know very well why I won't talk. Perhaps you should tell what you know about Slagle. And have his mom do another job on my gas station? Or come over here after you and... and Timmy? Not a chance. Slagle wouldn't do that. Sure he would. Besides, I can't prove it was Slagle who had my place bombed. He's too slick for that. So we go on paying. Yeah. Yeah.

That reminds me, Flago collectors do here pretty soon. The money ready? Yes, in the envelope. If he didn't see this picture in a sentinel, I'd better have it for him on the line. The doorbell. Is that him? A little early, but... You stay here, Alice. I'll see him in the hallway. Be careful, Jim. Don't worry, honey. Gosh, I wish there was something I could do without making things bad for Alice and the kid. Hello?

Inside, Jennings. Hey, what? Man! Get back! A gun! I know you're the Green Hornet. That's exactly right. Wherever you come from, Hornet, you're not getting it, see? Jim, you forgot the money. Bring it here. Why, you dirt! I could give you a shot of gas and take it anyway, Jennings. Please, Jim, do as he says. Here. Here it is. That's better. That goes for Schlegel, Hornet. It was for Schlegel, but not anymore. That's all we have. The Schlegel collectors do any less. That's too bad.

The Green Hornet got here first. You can't. What do we tell him? Tell him anything. This cash goes with me. No, Jim. Alice, let me go. Get up. Green Hornet. No, Jim. I won't let you. It's too late. There he goes. But Dennings was wrong. The Green Hornet had no intention of leaving. As the car pulled away, Retread spoke to Cato, the only living man to know him as the Green Hornet.

Gato, level back around the block. I want to be there when Slagle's collector arrives. Yes, sir. I'll be there when he does. You wait for me in the car. A short time later, Slagle's collector arrived at Denning's home. He refused to believe Denning saw it. Stop stalling, Kennings. Where's that dog? I tell you, the Green Hornet took it. Don't make me laugh.

The hornet wouldn't bother with 20 bucks. But, Chute, my husband left the money in the other room when he came to the door before. I thought it was you calling, so I brought the money out to him. And the hornet grabbed it. You can't expect me to believe that. You got that dough hit someplace. The other room, I'll bet. Go ahead. Search if you want to. We won't find it in there. Oh, I won't, huh? Oh, yeah, call this, you dumb head. Write on the table and see what my name on it. Oh, that's not so easy. I wouldn't even look in here, huh? I swear it wasn't... You're getting too big for your hat, Jennings, since that picture got in the papers.

When I tell Slagle about this, he'll whittle you down plenty. Outside the window, a tall masked figure listened to Kruger's outburst and then moved away silently. Step number one in my plan to uncover Slagle's racket. Now, if only everything moves along as smoothly as it's been going so far...

The greenhornet is going to have a busy night. And that means a busy night for Bat Slegel as well. Slegel and his whole crooked outfit.

Riff Reed found that Bat Slegel, a racketeer, had every gas station in the city paying him a cent a gallon on gasoline as tribute. By intimidation, violence, and every force at his command, Slegel was making his victims keep silent.

Assuming the role of the Green Hornet in an attempt to smash Slagle's racket, Bickreed made it appear that the most courageous of Slagle's victims had attempted to withhold his weekly payment of protection money from Slagle's henchmen. Following Bickreed's instructions, Cato had the Black Beauty waiting in an alley near Jennings' house. Slide over, Cato. I'll take the wheel. Stay left, Bickreed.

Is that that work we're to do? So far, the plan is going fine, you know. I double back and toss the collection and lope in through the open window. Slagle's collector thinks Jennings is trying to pull a bluff. He's on his way to Slagle now. Is that that? Black duty will get up to Slagle's place twice as fast as he can make it. Kato, the green hornet is going to be in that office when Slagle's collector arrives. It's about time you showed up, Kruger.

Got the dough from Jennings? Yeah, there it is. Can you imagine that guy, Pat? He tried to stall. Jennings? Yeah, Jennings. What do you mean? Here's the dough. He said he didn't have it. Tried to tell me the green hornet had swiped his dough. The green hornet? That's a lad. And all the time he was right in the next room. Wasn't even hit. Tried to bluff you, huh? Didn't work. You ought to take him down a peg anyhow, Pat. If any one of them guys gives us trouble, it'll be him, all right. Not if you sure move his boss, it won't. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

Kruger, from now on, Jennings is going to have to pay two cents on every gallon instead of one. Twice as much? That'll teach him to try and act up with me. Now, let's count this dough just to make sure. Okay, Ben. It's getting late. Feels like more than 20...

Hey, Slager, look at this. What? Jenny's tricked us. Instead of real gold, this envelope is chipped full of plain paper. What? Why that? Let me see. He even used heavy paper so it would sound like the real thing when I felt the envelope. Well, the envelope was sealed, Pat. I didn't think he'd reply to stuff like this. He won't no more. Anything you think you can fool around with me, huh? Let me handle him, Pat. Nick, you might come back like you did this time. Besides, this job's more down Zellie's alley. Zellie?

Yeah, that's right. Slagle on the send. You're gonna do a job tonight, Zellie. I got it all figured. And here's what you're gonna do. Hidden in the shadows where he'd been since before Kruger's arrival, the Green Hornet listened to Slagle's conversation. Then Miss Slagle finished talking. That's the idea, Zellie. And make sure nothing goes wrong. I'm one Jennings to know he can't play around with my outfit. Well, that's your scheme. Huh? What's that? What's Slagle? Your mask. It's...

It's the Green Hornet. Move over next to each other. Got a rod, huh? I heard about that gun, boss. It ain't got bullets. Only gas. Oh, gas, huh? And only one gun. I get it. Don't knock the table over. That won't help. Get him from behind, Kruger. He can't shoot both ways. Okay, Bat. Take it, Jasper. Get him, Kruger. Now I got you. More. Who else? Jasper from behind. Jasper.

I was waiting. They didn't see me. Good work. One from each side at the same time is a little hard to handle. They almost had me. What do we do now? First, we make sure these two rats are unconscious. They're completely out. Can you fix them up so they'll stay that way until four in the morning? Four in the morning? That's the time when Slagle told Zellie to do that job. If we're going to trap these rats, we'll need every minute in between. Come on.

Jim, we ought to be going to bed. It's after 12. You go ahead, honey. I ain't sleepy. All right. Don't be long. Good night, Jim. Night, honey. Taking plenty out of me to be paying off to Slagle. He's not making any tougher one and I might as well quit. And that reporter...

Why'd I suck him in the first place? I said we must have looked jealous to him.

Gosh, if I did have any dope on Slagle's racket, I would call that reporter. That's a good idea, Jennings. Oh, it's you again. What do you want now? I'm your friend. You put me on the spot with Slagle. For one purpose. To take care of Slagle. It don't make sense. First you swipe that dough, then you bring it back so Slagle's collector can find it. Exactly. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be worried about what Slagle's gonna do. Plenty. I don't need a guy in a mask to tell me that. Jennings.

I'm going to help you stop him. You? You don't believe me? I've heard plenty about you, Hornet, and none of it good. Perhaps this will convince you. It's Lenny.

Dollar bills. Look at them. Wait. The money I get to Slagle's collector. What he took was nothing but strips of paper. I had this money with me from the first. I can't figure you, Hornet. Don't try to. But the whole thing's screwy. Money. Slagle. Jennings, I want to get Slagle as much as you do. Yeah, I guess this proves it. How can you get Slagle when nobody's got the goods on him?

Be at your gas station at four this morning. But it's closed. I close it up at twelve when my helper leaves. Never mind that. Call the cops, too. Call this reporter if you want to. Be there and watch what happens. The End

Jennings followed the suggestion given him by the Green Hornet. He called the office of the Daily Sentinel and asked for Lowry. I want to talk to a reporter named Lowry. Yeah, this is Lowry speaking. Who wants me? This is Jennings.

Denny's? Yeah. I forgot about that gas station. Oh, you. Well, listen, Denny's. If you want to take another poke at me for getting that picture in the Sentinel, you can forget it. I didn't want that picture released either. Well, you don't get it, Lowry. I'm talking about something else. Here's a tip for you. Be at my gas station around 4 o'clock. What for? The police are going to ask Slagle. I got the dope from the Green Hornet. The Green Hornet? You mean he's in on this? Will you be there? Will I be there? Try and keep me away. Hey.

Wow, talk about a scoop. So a sleigh will mob her up or something. Hello, hello. Listen, get me Clicker Benny. Show her on the phone, how else? I don't know where she is. Try every place. Try her home. Try the movie around the corner. Try any place but get her.

No, it isn't personal. It's business. I got inside information that the Green Hornet's going to bust Slagle's gang wide open. Come on.

Here we are, Kato. Jennings Gas Station. Yeah, it's deserted all right. And the problem now is how to get in. I'll look around, Miss Litt. See if the window's open. I'll try the door. The door's locked. It's not very strong, but easy to force it open. Better than that. No need to damage property. I found the window, Miss Litt. It's locked. But there's a hole in the window pane. Good, Kato. If there's a hole in the window pane, we'll be able to unlock it and get inside without any trouble. Yes. Hmm. Hmm.

If I can reach the catch. Probably this window was broken the last time Slegel had Jennings' place bombed. And Jennings didn't have enough money to repair it. There. I can feel the wind catching up. Have Slegel and Kruger, Kato? Yes, sir. Go in through this window and open the door. Then we'll bring the two of them in and put them right where Zellie will find them. Yes, sir. They're still unconscious. Working carefully and hurriedly, Bitreid opened the door.

Together, he and Cato carried the unconscious racketeers into Jennings' gas station. They moved in almost total darkness. I never think to look at Sligo that he weighs so much, Cato. Hey, Hagen, be careful of that chair. All right, put him down here next to Kroger. There, that's it.

The two of them, side by side, where Zellie can find them. Yes, sir. We'll leave the door unlocked so that Zellie can get in without any delay. Time for us to leave. We're not staying? No, we can't afford to stay here. It's too risky. But we'll be near enough to check if anything goes wrong.

Will Slegel and Kruger recover soon? Positive. They'll wake up in a little while now. Fine. I may be wrong, but Slegel's apt to be overconfident. He'll try to play out his hand in spite of everything. And that will mean his finish. Come on, Cato. Come on.

A short while after Bitreed and Cato left, the two racketeers stood. Slegel sat up. What happened? Where... Oh, Mark. Hornet. Yes. Who's that? Kruger. That you? Yes. Hornet did it. Couldn't get him. Kruger. Kruger, wake up. Huh?

Oh, Slater. Where are we? Cougars with that blasted Green Hornet. I remember now. He gassed us in my office. Snap out of it. Yeah. Yeah, your office. That's where he must be now. He snapped up the lights and left it. Sure, that's it. Scared to the powder. Now we'll find the light switch and then... Slater! This ain't your office. No, it ain't. Then where the devil are... Look out the window.

Look at them gas pumps. Hey, this is Jennings' place. I recognize a plane. Yeah, just lighted up the seatings outside. So the Green Hornet brought us here. Guess he figured we'd still be unconscious when Deli came around to a job on the place. We'd have been done for. Yeah, and we figured wrong. That gas he used wasn't as strong as he thought. We'll just walk off when Deli shows up and nobody to lie to. Hey, there's somebody coming now. See him? Through the window. Huh? Not Deli. Come on. We're going off. I'd meet him. What the...

Who's that? Take it easy, Deli. It's me and Kruger. I didn't expect you down here, boss. What's the matter? Checking up on me? Ah, we know you can handle it, Deli. It was the Green Hornet. He brought us here. The Hornet? He tried a little scheme to take care of me and Kruger. Only he slipped up, see? Now let's get busy.

Got the bomb? Right here, boss. Okay. We'll set it down right here next to the gas tank. Now give me a match for this fuse. We'll take care of this. Hold on to that. What the devil? Slagle, it's the cops. Okay, get in there. Grab him. We gotta get out of here. Hands up. You don't get me. No, I don't. What's Slagle? It's Slagle to me, Sergeant. Wait, Jennings, don't. Bomb my gas station, will you, Slagle? Hey, Quaker, snap this one. Jennings is going to poke Slagle. We just pay you tribute, huh?

Well, the cops got the goods on you now. All right, you got me. What else? Oh, honey, did you get it, Clicker? And how? Thanks, Dennings. You saved us the trouble. Put the cuffs on him. Okay, darling. Listen, officer, it's a mistake. I wasn't supposed to be here. Tell it to the judge, Kruger. Don't listen to him. He's in as deep as me. I tell you, the Green Hornet brought me and Slagel here. Sure he did, and a good job, too. The Green Hornet?

Is that why you got the tip, Jenny? Yeah, and it worked smooth as clockwork. That's the Green Hornet for that. So the Green Hornet's responsible for this, eh? Well, that's the first good thing he ever did. Listen, Sergeant, the Green Hornet's okay, see? No matter what people say, he's one guy I'm going to believe in from now on. Ah!

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Oh

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brought to you by Public Investing, member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info. Stay ahead this fall and winter with Prime IV hydration and wellness. Our immunity armor drip helps you prevent and shorten colds, flu, and viral infections.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Granite Furniture Company with stores in Sugar House, Murray and Provo presents... All the Fantasy! All the Fantasy!

Welcome to the Hall of Fantasy. Welcome to the series of radio dramas dedicated to the supernatural, the unusual and the unknown. Come with me, my friend. We shall ascend to the world of the unknown and forbidden, down to the depths where the veil of time is lifted and the supernatural reigns as king. Come with me and listen to the tale of The Judge's...

The Granite Furniture Company brings you The Hall of Fantasy. Listen now to original tales of the imagination and some of the classics of the supernatural as we take you down the corridors of the Hall of Fantasy to the mysterious realms of the unknown. These are stories of eerie and fantastic thrills brought to you by your friends at the Granite Furniture Store. And now for tonight's story, a radio adaptation by Bob Olson of Bram Stoker's story entitled The Judge's House.

Justice. Peace. How can we be certain of either when hatred burns unchecked even beyond the grave? I am Malcolm Lane. This is my story. I want to tell it to you while there is still time. I watched them carry the parcels into the judge's house. Mrs. Whittam, whom I had engaged as my housekeeper for the next three months, was directing the activity. She was an amusing little character. I had a promise that she wouldn't have to stay in the house after it began to get dark.

The upholsterer's man was coming up the pathway with a cart and a new bed. Mrs. Whittem had insisted on this one new piece of furniture because, as she put it... A bed that just hasn't been aired for 50 years is not fit for young bodies to lie on. And she was right, of course. But my head was too full of plans for study to worry about such details as my living quarters. As for the tales about the harsh old judge whose house this had once been, I had only a mild enthusiasm.

He must have been quite a character, though, to make an entire village fear him and his house even 50 years after his death. Mrs. Whittam was positive there was something about the old place, though she nor anyone else quite knew what it was. The consensus of opinion, however, was that they would not take all the money in Drinwater's bank to spend an hour here alone.

But Mrs. Whittam startled me with a very rational statement. The place is full of rats. And rats is bogeys. Just the same as bogeys is rats. That explanation suited me very well. For, as I said once before, my head was full of plans to study. Examinations were coming up soon, and I had paid three months' rent on this old house...

so that I would be assured of peace and quiet while I prepared for them. The only mysteries I'm interested in, Mrs. Whittam, are those of harmonical progression and elliptical functions. They're a mystery enough for me. Not that you won't find company here, Miss Delane. I've already cleaned all of 50 years of dust from everything. Oh, but that waistcoat in this room must be hundreds of years old...

And you'll find creaky doors aplenty, and loose flats all over, ready to flap in the wind. And bureau drawers that stick and then fall down in the middle of the night. And don't forget the rats. No, Miss Delane, don't forget the rats. The workmen were all gone, and but for the busy little figure, the housekeeper, I was alone. It was for this that I'd taken the tiresome ride to Benchurch, a remote little town that had all the attractions of a desert.

it was drawing close to evening as mrs witham was unpacking the last hamper and i could see that she was beginning to cast worried glances about as the shadows began to creep into the corners of this huge dining-room i had chosen for my living quarters

Oh, you may go now, Mrs. Whittam. It's getting dark in here, and I'm sure you're anxious to get home. You've done well with this old room. I shall reward you with complete possession of this house for the last two months of my tenancy. Three or four weeks will be all I'll need, and I'd hate to see that rent money go to waste. Thank you kindly, sir, but I wouldn't

wouldn't stay here for... I know, for all the money in Vint Quarters Bank. I'm really grateful, for I do want to be alone. And if you were not so opposed to it, I might be tempted to accept your company. Ah, you young gentleman. You fear nothing, and I'm certain you'll get all the solitude you need here. Good night, sir. You'll find your supper beneath the clock. Good night, Mrs. Whittam. Good night.

Oh, yes, this was comfort. After I'd finished my supper, I cleared the great oak table and got my books out. Then when I'd put fresh wood in the fire and trimmed the lamp, I sat down to a spell of hard work. I hardly looked up from my books until nearly eleven o'clock, at which time I threw some more wood in the fire and indulged in one of my most deeply ingrained habits, that of tea drinking. I thoroughly enjoyed tea and drank it this night with a sense of real enjoyment.

Soon the new wood I had thrown on the fire began to crackle, and the new flame threw quaint shadows about the great old room. As I sat there sipping my tea, I reveled in the complete sense of isolation. Then, for the first time, I noticed the noise of the rats. Strange, I hadn't heard them before. Maybe they're just getting used to me, but they're bold enough now. How busy they were, and what strange noises they made.

Up and down the old wainscot they went, and over the ceiling and under the floor, racing and gnawing and scratching. There were so many of them that I'd have sworn that if they set their strength to it, they could have carried the house away. I had a smile when I recalled the words of Mrs. Whittam. Rats is bogeys, and bogeys is rats. The stimulation of the tea gave me a sense of security, and I grabbed the lamp to take a good look around the room. Strange why such a beautiful old place should have been so neglected for all this time.

The carving in the oak panels of the wainscot was fine indeed, and that around the doors and windows was of rare merit. I saw some old pictures in the wall next to the fireplace, but they were coated so thick with dust that I couldn't distinguish any of their details, even though I did hold the lamp high above my head. Now and then I would get a quick start, as the light fell upon the old walls and disclosed the glittering eyes of a rat as he would stick his face out of a hole or a crack. In an instant it would disappear with a squeak in the scamper.

Another object that struck me as odd was the rope of a great alarm bell that hung in the corner of the room on the right-hand side of the fireplace. After my inspection tour, I sat in a high-backed chair that was near the fireplace and sipped from another cup of tea. For a while, I thought the noise of the rats would drive me to distraction, but that eased off and I became accustomed to it. The same as a person gets used to the roar of water when he camps beside a stream. Soon I was so engrossed in a mathematical problem that I had forgotten everything else in the world.

But since the solution to the problem came stubbornly, I looked up and was surprised to see that the fire had fallen to a dull red glow. There was a sudden quiet, a strange hush that comes in the hour before dawn. I became aware for the first time that the noise of the rats had ceased. When had it happened? I couldn't remember. Something instinctive told me that it had been in the last few moments and that it had been sudden. I looked up, and what I saw...

What I saw was a most amazing thing. For there on the high-backed chair sat an enormous rat staring at me through deadly, malignant eyes. I tried to frighten it away, but it didn't stir. It made a motion as if to throw something at it. But it only bared its teeth angrily, and its cruel eyes shone all the more bright. I'd grabbed the poker from the hearth and was going to kill the creature. But before I could reach it, that enormous rat jumped to the floor. And with a squeak that sounded like a consummate hitter, the whole world scampered up the rope of the alarm bell and disappeared in the darkness.

Then, as if by a signal, the noise of the other rats started all over again. By this time, I gave up working my problem and bartered it for some much-needed sleep.

It was Mrs. Whittam who woke me as she came in to make up the room. You're much paler this morning, Mr. Lane. I am. You shouldn't stay up so late with your work. It isn't good for you. But tell me, how did you spend the night? I was certainly glad to see you. Alive? Oh, yes, I was quite all right, Mrs. Whittam. The something didn't worry me too much.

But the rats certainly held themselves a camp meeting. There was one that sat up in that chair with a fireplace and wouldn't go away until I chased him with a poker. It was the biggest old devil I've ever seen. Old devil? Maybe it was the old devil. I only meant that... Never you mind, sir. Many a true word is spoken in jest. Well, pardon me, Mrs. Whittemeyer. I didn't mean to be rude. But the thought of the old devil himself sitting in that chair last night struck me as being rather funny. And it's a good thing you can laugh.

But all the same, if I were to spend the night here tonight, oh, heaven forbid, I'd make sure I was ready for him. That night, the rats put on an earlier show, for their scamperings began almost as soon as I'd finished with my supper. The cursed creatures seemed to get on my nerves, and I sat there and popped my pipe while they squealed and scratched and gnawed. They seemed to grow bolder by the minute.

By now they were coming to the chinks and cracks in the wall... ...and to their eyes shone like miniature lamps when the firelight struck them. They'd even make bold sallies under the floor... ...and I'd have to frighten them away by pounding on the table with my fist. That was how I passed the early part of that night. Despite it, I became more and more engrossed in my studies. And then a strange sensation coursed through me. For there it was again. Instinctively, I grabbed the handiest object I could find... ...and flung it at the baleful little beast...

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

I tried to get back to my work, but I suddenly became curious to know whether I had disappeared too. For I was certain that tomorrow I would most likely get myself a rat trap. I gathered all my books about me and put them in a handy position for throwing. Then I took the rope of the alarm bell and placed the end of it upon the table underneath the lamp, where there would be plenty of light on it. As I picked up the rope, I was amazed how pliable and strong it was. Ideal, I thought, for hanging a man. ♪

Soon my preparations were complete. Now this time, my friend, I intend to learn more about you. Once again, I was hard at my work and the noise of the rats was forgotten.

But just as suddenly as before, I was aroused by that same sense of startling silence. I was conscious of a slight movement in the rope at my elbow. Without stirring, I checked to see if my pile of books was at easy reach. It was. I cast my glance up the rope just in time to see the huge rat drop from it to the back of the high oak chair. I grabbed a book and hurled it. With amazing agility, the rat sprang aside and dodged it. I threw a second and a third, but each time it managed to dodge my battery.

It was almost funny, almost. Finally, when I was down to the last book, I took careful aim, and as I did this, the rat squeaked and seemed afraid. I let the book fly. It struck the rat with a resounding thud. It gave out a shrill, terrified shriek, and running up the back of the chair made a desperate leap. And with the speed of a bolt of lightning ran up the bell rope. The lamp rocked with a strain, but it didn't topple. Then I saw the rat leap to a molding and disappear through the hole in one of the big pictures that hung on the wall.

I made a mental note of the exact spot. Third picture from the fireplace, huh? I'll remember that and have Mrs. Whittemore scrub it clean the first thing tomorrow morning. I began to pick up the books I had thrown at the rat. As I did so, I took a good look at their titles. Conic Sections. Mr. Rat doesn't seem to mind that. Neither do this one on cycloidal oscillations. And this one on thermodynamics he dodged very neatly. Oh, here's the book that got him.

As I looked at the title of the book that had finally hit the huge rat, I could feel a pallor spread across my face. For the title of that book was The Holy Bible. You are listening to The Judge's House by Bram Stoker in tonight's journey down the corridors of the Hall of Fantasy, brought to you by your friends at the Granite Furniture Company with stores in Sugar House, Murray, and Provo. And now back to the story by Bram Stoker entitled The Judge's House. The Judge's House

Mr. Lane, this is Dr. Thornhill. Dr. Thornhill, are you ill, Mrs. Whittam? Your pardon, Mr. Lane, but Mrs. Whittam wanted me to come up here and have a talk with you. A talk? Well, in that case, let me prepare some tea for you. Oh, please don't. That's one of the things I came to talk to you about. Mrs. Whittam thinks you drink more strong tea than is good for you. She tells me also that you put in quite long hours at your studies. Mrs. Whittam, I engaged you as a housekeeper, not as a guardian. I...

Oh, please, Mr. Lane, I didn't mean to... As a matter of fact, Lane, she didn't mean to have me talk to you at all. That was my idea, I see. Well, now that you're here, what do you want me to do?

Leave this house. Well, even if I could see the reason for it, I doubt if I would. But as for the tea and late hours, I might be able to give them up. Would it make you feel any better, Mrs. Whittam, if I promised not to study after one o'clock tonight? Yes, if you promise. Then I promise. I advise you not as a total stranger to your problem, Mr. Lane.

I was a student once myself, you know. Of course. Shall we shake on a doctor? Fine. Now, if you will, I wish you'd tell me what you've noticed in this house. Well, it's just as I've told Mrs. Whittam. I'd be working late, and I'd suddenly... And when I looked to see which book it was that had struck the rat, the devil, as Mrs. Whittam calls it...

I was amazed to find that it was the Holy Bible. There now. Please, Mrs. Whittam, you're not hurt. Now, Mr. Lane, you say the rat always went up the rope of that alarm bell? Always. I suppose you know what that rope is? No, I... It's the very rope the hangman used to execute the victims of the judge's hatred. Oh.

No. Now, Mrs. Whitham, there's no reason to get upset about this, really. Doctor, you shouldn't put such horrible thoughts in poor Mr. Lane's mind. He has enough to unseat him already. I did it for a definite purpose. Mr. Lane, I want you to fix your attention on that rope. Now, I know your sound of mind and body, but hard work and long hours and this suggestion of the devil, especially in this lonely old house, can do things to the mind.

Now, I don't mean this as any offense, but if you should find yourself having, well, hallucinations or some unexplainable fright, I want you to pull that rope. It'll give us some kind of a warning in the village. We might be able to be of some help. Well, thank you, Doctor. I'll do that. I may get stuck with a problem. Fine. Goodbye, Mr. Lane, and, well, I wouldn't be surprised if Benchurch hears the alarm bell from the judge's house tonight.

I didn't quite share the doctor's views, but just the same, I caught myself staring at the bell rope. The more I stared, the more restless I became, and every now and then my mind would conjure up the vision of some wretched victim dangling from the end of it. But that line of thinking would have me out of my mind in a hurry. Mrs. Whittam had made the place neat and homey. I wandered over to one of the big windows and flung it open.

I was surprised to find that a sharp wind had come up, a very cold wind for April. It was more than a sharp wind, really, but it was carrying a storm. Little drops of rain began to pelt me in the face until soon it became a thing of fury. I bolted the shutters and built up a fire with some fresh wood. I was uncomfortable and was only vaguely conscious of the reason. Suddenly I knew. The rats were quiet tonight.

It gave me a slight case of the jitters, and I instinctively took a hasty glance at the bell rope. The rope was quite still. I wanted a hot cup of tea, but remembering my promise to Mrs. Whittam, I desisted. Instead, I sat at the great oak table and opened my books. Soon I had started a problem, and the noise of the rats began. For the first time since I had taken up residence in the church's house, I was glad to hear those rats. I had worked for an hour or so, and suddenly became conscious of the furious storm outside.

I was thankful that I didn't have to be out of it. The faint movement of the bell rope compelled me to walk over to it and take it in my hand. I saw nothing. It had only been the wind, and the rope was rising and falling gently with each new gust of air, which caused the bell to sway back and forth a little. That rope had a deadly fascination to it. I wondered why the judge wanted such a grisly memento in his house. The thought of it sent a chill through me. Or was it a thought?

Didn't I sense a tremor along that rope? I couldn't be sure, but at that moment I remembered the picture. I walked over to the table, picked up the lamp, and approached the spot where I'd seen the picture the night before. I counted out the pictures until I came to the third one from the fireplace. Even before I raised the lamp, I could see that Mrs. Whittem had washed it clean as I had told her to do. Then what I saw... What I saw gave me such a start that I nearly dropped the lamp. My knees almost gave way beneath me, and I was conscious of huge beads of perspiration that were forming on my forehead.

Just looking at it made me tremble like an aspen leaf. The picture seemed fairly to leap out at me. For there, dressed in his scarlet and ermine robes with a judge, with his merciless, evil face, his sensual mouth, and a nose that was shaped like the beak of a bird of prey. His face had a cadaverous culling. It was a ghastly picture. But it was the eyes that really made me go cold. Those eyes were... And heaven help me if I'm going mad...

Those eyes were the exact duplicate of the evil eyes of the great rat. The picture had been painted in this very room. I began to compare the two, and as my eyes swept the room, they were suddenly riveted to the judge's chair. For there, with a rope hanging behind it, sat the huge rat with the judge's eyes. And the hatefulness was now intensified with a fiendish leer. Never did the wind howl so. This had to stop. I wanted some tea, but I didn't take any.

Doctor had been quite right by it. The nurse must have been getting drawn pretty to it. Strange, too, because I never was in better health. Well, no tea. We'll substitute some brandy. Let's see now. I had a stiff glass of the brandy and went back to work. The rats were at it again, and I was glad to hear them, for they had become a sort of symbol of normalcy. The storm raised such a fury that I was unaware of anything else. But once, during a sharp, silent lull, I heard another sound, a faint squeaking noise. I listened for it again and soon detected it.

It was coming from the corner of the room where the bell rope hung. At first I thought it was just the motion of the rope in the storm... but I looked up and saw something in the dim light... that made me all the more positive that I was going mad. For there was the great rat, clinging to the rope and gnawing at it. I could see the lighter coloring where the bare strands were exposed. Just then the rat finished its job... and the rope fell to the floor with a thud. For a moment the huge rat just hung there like a tassel. It was then that I realized what had happened...

My only contact with the village was now gone. I don't know why, but I rushed to the lamp on the table, snatched off the shade, and ran over to the picture of the judge. A chill of horror went through me, that I think I must have expected what I saw. It seemed more like a confirmation than a shock, for there in the center of the picture was a great patch of brown canvas. As clean and as fresh as the day it had been drawn over the frame, and where the portrait of the judge himself had been, there was nothing. I heard a sound behind me.

When I turned around, I really got the palsy. I suddenly became incapable of movement. I could hardly think. I had been prepared to see most anything, but what was there? For there in the judge's high-backed chair, with his black cap in his hand, his ermine robes fixed about him with a smile of triumph, twisting his cruel mouth, was the judge himself. As the clock struck the hour, it seemed to beat the blood right out of my heart. At the twelfth stroke...

The judge placed the black cap on his head and walked deliberately over the place where the piece of bell rope lay in a heap on the floor. He picked it up and drew it through his hands as one would a valuable fur pelt. Then he began to knot one end, fashioning it into a noose. He tightened it and tested it with his foot. All this time he never took his horribly cruel eyes from my face. I began to feel trapped.

For some reason, I could barely move. I could only watch as he started to move along the table toward me. Then with a quick move, he threw the noose at me as if to ensnare me in it. It missed. He raised it again, every once taking those hateful eyes from my face. Once more, the noose came flying toward me. Once more, with some last ounce of strength, I dodged it. The room seemed flooded with light. The lamp had suddenly flared up high.

I looked about the room and was astonished to see the shiny little eyes of the rats as they peered out the cracks and chinks in the wall. I looked up at the bell rope, my lost and last hope of warning the village. It was covered with the little fellows. Funny thing, but those rats were the only thing that gave me even the slightest sense of comfort. For as the rats clambered along the bell rope, the bell itself began to sway and I heard a tiny sound. Yes, very tiny. As the clamber touched the bell itself, it was only a whisper of a sound.

But it would grow louder in time. Or would it? At this sound, the judge looked up and a scowl of terrible anger came to his face. His eyes were like red-hot coals and he stamped his foot so that the house seemed to shake. The rats kept running up and down the rope as if they were conscious that it was a race against time. Now the judge was approaching me with a noose in his hand. As he came closer, there seemed to be something paralyzing in his presence and I stood as rigid as a corpse.

Suddenly, I felt the judge's icy fingers against the skin of my throat. He was adjusting the rope above my neck. Then he picked me up and stood me on the high oak chair and put his hand on the swaying end of the bell rope. As he raised his hand, I was conscious of my little rat friends fleeing through the hole in the ceiling. They were my last hope. I stood there on the chair and couldn't move a muscle. Now that my last hope seemed gone, I wanted the judge to hurry and get it over with. Soon he tied the end of the rope just above my neck to the dangling end of the bell rope.

Lenny jumped down to the floor and looked at me with those eyes that hated me so. The smile of diabolical triumph seemed to wreathe him in horror. I began to wonder about hangings. I wondered how long it would take, whether the doctor in the village could possibly reach me in time, for I knew that I would soon be sounding the alarm bell. I even wondered what kind of a shadow I'd cast on the wall as I dangled from the end of the rope in this grotesque candlelight. But I didn't wonder for long.

Because suddenly, the judge grabbed the chair in which I was standing when the sudden movement jerked it out from under me. So runs the tale of The Judge's House. Remember to join us next week at the same time for another journey down the corridors of the Hall of Fantasy.

Tonight's program was adapted from the story by Bram Stoker, entitled The Judge's House. Heard in tonight's program were Dick Thorne as Malcolm Lane, Beth Calder as Mrs. Woodham, and Mel Wyman as a doctor. Musical background was provided by Earl Donaldson. The technical supervisor was Nephi Sorenson. This program was written by Bob Olson and produced and directed by Richard Thorne.

Remember, be with us again next Sunday night on call at 8.30 p.m. when the Granite Furniture Stores in Sugar House, Murray and Provo will take you on another journey down the corridors of the Hall of Fantasy.

♪♪♪

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So if you want to lock in a 6% or higher yield with a diversified portfolio of high yield and investment grade bonds, you might want to act fast. The good news, it only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. And once you lock in your yield, you can earn regular interest payments even as rates decline.

Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account at public.com. But hurry, your yield is not locked in until you invest. Brought to you by Public Investing, member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info. Stay ahead this fall and winter with Prime IV hydration and wellness. Our immunity armor drip helps you prevent and shorten colds, flu, and viral infections.

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Presenting Orson Welles as the Third Man. The Lives of Harry Lyme. The fabulous stories of the immortal character originally created in the motion picture The Third Man.

With Zither music by Anton Keras. If I were an honest man, which would be silly on the face of it, this would be my sermon. Any character who gets swindled is asking for it. You can't swindle a man unless he's so full of larceny that his very breathing is crooked.

This, to a man of my talents, would be disconcerting if I didn't know that nine people out of ten are full of larceny, like a certain American named Harris, who not so long ago came to Paris for a holiday. Strictly in Mr. Harris's honor, I concocted a juicy little swindle called horseplay. Horseplay

And now Orson Welles as Harry Lyme, the third man in horseplay. My game of horseplay began in the bar of the Creole. To start it, I had to call on a French pal of mine, André Janine. Say it to me again, Harry. The big man.

Over there, sitting at the corner table. See him? Yes, but... Look, look, Andre. All I want you to do is to get into conversation with him. Easy enough? Why not? Then, when you're talking, you find this billfold under the table. Under the table? Where you will have dropped it first. Aha! Yes, yes. And in the billfold, there are papers which will identify it as yours. You return it to me, simple. You'll be sure to bring this man with me when I return it. Let him return it. I'll be in a room here at the hotel.

And all these hocus-pocus are to accomplish what? All these hocus-pocus, my friend, will result in Mr. Harris, that big man at the corner table, giving me thousands and thousands of American dollars, as you will see. André Jeannine did his job smoothly. He was sitting down and talking to Harris in a matter of minutes, as though they were old friends. From not too near, I watched discreetly.

They were just getting up to go. And suddenly... Oh, I'm sorry, Monsieur Jenny. What? Your foot. I must have kicked me. Excuse me. But you did not. Let's see what... It's a billfold. You must have dropped it. Billfold? Drop it or not me. I've got mine, all right. Well, let's see here. Well, whosoever it is, it's your one fat wallet.

Well, look here at this. Oh, me, I've got nothing to be living around in Hotel Bar. Seven, eight, ten, fifteen, ten mil franc notes. Must be 400 American dollars anyway. Membership card here to some club. Club de Turf. Uh, what's that? Sounds like some sort of club where one may place bets on those races. A turf club. This is English? Oh, sure. A turf club, eh? Ah, fellow's name is Harry Lime.

Here, look at this. Looks like some sort of code cypher. And two race tickets. And look, look at this newspaper clipping here. From an American newspaper? I guess so. Mysterious racetrack plunger Harry Lyme winnings Belmont this season. Estimated at more than one million dollars.

Well, that does all right, doesn't it? We'd better ask at the desk or see if there is anybody here in the hotel whose name is... What is it again? Harry Lyme. Come on, let's ask. Yes, what do you want? Are you Mr. Harry Lyme? You're news for every man if you are. I don't want to see you. No interviews.

I simply will not be bothered by a lot of... One moment, sir, please. We simply go by to ask if you had lost anything. Lost anything? Certainly not. Good day, gentlemen. You sure you have your wallet, your billfold? Oh, good Lord, it's... Where? Now, just a second. I think we have found it, Mr. O'Hare. Oh, come in, come in, gentlemen. I'm sure you know how sorry I am. Uh-huh.

If I seem to be rude, it's just that these reporters, even here in Paris, you know, I'm handling the position. I suppose you can identify the bill for me. I certainly can. Now, let's see. Some cash, maybe four or five hundred in French-American money, a membership card and a crub de turf, a code cipher. I use my business and...

I'd see a couple of cablegrams. It's yours, all right. Well, can't tell you how grateful I am, sir. They would have put me in it. Here, why don't you take this cash and have yourselves a good time? Oh, nonsense. Don't be foolish. Please, please me very much if you take it. Seriously, these papers here, they're what's of value, although only to me. You're sure I can't repay you by... No, no, mille merci.

Well, then, at the very least, you must both be my guests for an evening while you're in Paris. Drinks, dinner, make the rounds of the hottest spots, maybe some girlfriends, huh? Oh, no, no, no. Meanwhile, let me place a bet for you just to cover your hotel bill while you're in town. A bet? I'm afraid I do not exactly see what you are... He reads on the horse races, don't you? Well, there, you mean you have some... Let me see, some hot tips. Well, in a way, yes, tips. You see...

I represent a large syndicate which, shall we say, is beginning to regulate the winning of races at French tracks. I'm merely the agent placing the syndicate money to the

a considerable disadvantage of French bookmakers and gambling clubs until they fall into line. Naturally, this is all confidential. Oh, what wrong have I made? That's why I was so curt with you when you first came to the door, you understand. I thought maybe you might be a newspaper man. Occasionally, they become embarrassingly close to realizing what the syndicate is up to. And naturally, any publicity would... Excuse me. Yes? Cable drum, monsieur. Merci, tiens, garçon. Oh, merci bien, monsieur.

The point is, gentlemen, I'm sent my instructions by coded cablegram, so you can see what a spot I'd be in without my cipher. So, I'm grateful to you both. I most certainly am. You mean the bets you place, the races, have been fixed in advance? Well, now, fixed is a very unpleasant word, but that's about the size of it. That's why it occurred to me that perhaps I could show my gratitude by placing a small bet for both of you, which with good odds would at least make you some cigarette money while you're here in Paris. Excuse me just a moment, will you? Yeah?

What a thing to happen in on, eh, Jannan? What do you mean?

Why, don't you get it? Fixed races. An absolutely sure thing. Aha, I've heard of things like that. Heard of them? We have one right here in our lab. Gentlemen, gentlemen, this cablegram. I have a very good thing. If you'll just excuse me. Oh, but of course, I'm sure. Monsieur Harris, we did not mean to stay here so long as this. No, no, no, no, no. Please, not at all. I insist you stay here. There are drinks, cigars, seltzer, a pair of water over there on the table. I'll be back in a matter of, oh, 15, 20 minutes at the most. Well... I had over. Yes, then. Now sit right down and make yourselves at home, both of you.

I'll be back in a jiffy. Yeah, put something on it for us. So, I leave this man Harris in my room with Janine. There he sits, thinking of the possibility that he'll make some money on a sure thing. A fixed horse race, with no risk whatsoever to his own pocketbook. Not bad, huh? What's wrong with that? Probably, like Harris, you'd feel you don't know for sure yet that I'm maybe not some kind of a nut...

But at least you'd have to admit I had good whiskey in my room, good cigars. I could rent a comfortable hotel suite. And in 20 minutes or so, I'd be back with a big smile on my face. Still here? Ah, good. We were wondering, Mr. Bynum. You know, I was afraid maybe you'd have left before I got back, before I'd even gotten a chance to learn your names. Did you think of that? Oh, stupid. Pardon, monsieur. I am André Janine, Mr. Lang. And you, sir? My name is Jack Harris. Jack Harris. Mighty pleased to have met both of you. Now,

When I think of it, you are, Jenny, I got odds of four to one, another 80,000 francs for you, Harris. Well, say, what do you know? My goodness, sir, thank you. It's like it grows on trees.

Yes, sir. Just like it grows on trees. 80,000 francs, about $200 for my sucker friend Harris. He never lifted a finger. That's living, man. Way up high on the hog. Just as Harris himself says. Just think, Janet. The only limit is the capital you've got to put down on a race.

How about that? How about that, indeed. See what I mean about nine out of ten being larcenous? And, of course, before this afternoon is over, another cablegram has been delivered, another bet placed just as a convincer. And when I come back into the room, I hope you don't mind, I had them give it to me in big bills so it wouldn't be a nuisance for you to carry around. Oh, a nuisance. Oh, a hundred, two hundred? Well, this will add up to eight hundred American dollars. That's not what I call a nuisance.

Now, to be sure, Harris has some 300,000 francs of my money in his pocket, but I don't need to worry too much. He won't run away. He's too anxious to get some more of this money that just grows on trees. Overnight, I leave him in the company of my friend Janine, for I have work to do to prepare the appearance of the Club de Turf. It's all a phony, of course, staffed by my pals, all set up just to pluck Mr. Harris, just to separate him from some of his nice little old American greenbacks. And sure enough, as expected, next morning, he's back knocking at my hotel room door.

Ah, come in, come in, come in. I was hoping you fellas show up. Drinks? I think none for me, thanks. For me, I can use one. Oh, after last night, I was celebrating my winnings in those fixed races. Help yourself, Harris, yes, I'm glad to see you. I need someone I can trust. And after the way you two returned my wallet yesterday, I know you're both dependable. Well, anything I can do. You can do me a favor. Pick yourself up a little change, same time. Here's my problem. The manager over at the club deterrent is getting suspicious of me, I'm afraid. He's...

just before telling me I'll have to place my bet somewhere else. I should think. After all the money you must have taken away from me. So, now, if you two would take this guest card... it'll get you into the club, okay, and place a bet for me. I've got a horse in the fifth race...

Bet him to win. I'll give you a blank check. Blank check? On credit. My credit, of course. Besides, you still have the few hundred thousand francs you won yesterday. Yes. Harris, you got your three hundred thousand? Right here. Okay, here. You give yours to Janine here. That makes six hundred thousand for the two of you. Now, are you listening? Yeah, sure. This is very important. Do exactly as I tell you, Janine. When it comes time to bet, you make out and sign this check for fifteen million francs.

Don't let these figures unsettle you, guys. It just sounds like a lot of money. Translated, that means only about 50,000 American dollars. Place the check together with your cash on Dancing Cloud in the fourth race at Chantilly. The odds should be about four to one. That would net you at C. Well, it's more than 200,000 American dollars. What a way to make money! Ha, ha!

Oh, by the way, Lime, I don't speak much French. Oh, don't worry about that, Harrison. The club de turf, most of the bettors are English or American anyway. All the business transactions are in English if you don't speak French. Oh, fine. Come on, let's go, gentlemen. Now, please. One moment, Mr. Lime. Yes? I don't have 15 million francs in cash to make that check good. I don't like the idea of putting my name to a check for...

Oh, now, look, Shannon, don't worry about that. This guest card assures you credit. Then when you win, you take up the check. What's the trouble? Yes, but what if we lose? Oh, don't be a dope, Shannon. You can't lose. It's a sure thing. You catch on quick, Harris. You can't lose. Oh, no.

Orson Welles returns in just a moment as the third man. And now Orson Welles as the third man continues with horseplay.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

a cashier behind his wicked window, paying out huge bundles of francs on pretended bets to the pretended crumb-bibbers. The whole thing a fancy front to impress my rich American Harris, whose breath by now is coming faster, whose eyes are shining brighter, for he's about to make a huge profit on a sure crooked wager. Quite a place, eh, Harker? Yeah, yeah. First time I was ever in a place like this. See, remember the headphones up there at the ball? Oh, yeah. He's talking W.R., you know? The results, too, I guess, of all the races. Yeah.

There's the cashier's window. Yeah. Do you think we should make the bet now? With all the odds right. Over there, see? Oh, sure. Well, I guess... You've got that blank check. Right here. But it's not blank anymore. Oh, come on. Let's get up that window. Well, the odds on dancing cloud right. Oh, sure, sure, sure. Come on. Hurry up, Jalen. I won't be right. Left bet is down. All right. Just so. Yes, sir? I want to place this on dancing cloud in the fourth at Chantilly. If you don't mind, sir, I'd like to see your card. Oh, fine. Thanks, Clive.

Dancing Cloud in the Fort of Chantilly. Check for 15 million francs and 600,000 in cash. For one bit of cash? Why, yes. One bit. Here's your ticket, sir. 15,600,000 francs on Dancing Cloud. Thank you. Next, please. Afternoon, sir. One million francs across the board on Beaumarchais, please.

Come on, Janin, let's sit up near that collar. I'm worried. My name on that check. Well, why worry? How can you lose? Besides, everybody I get was betting on Beaumarchais in this ring. Relax, Janin, relax. Lisa, there. Did you hear him? He did not even mention Dancing Cloud. Oh. Well, I guess they don't want to make it look too raw, you know. Why did I put my name on that check? Fifteen million francs. Oh, you'll be all right. Look at the way all these men around us are taking it. Sure, their money is on Beaumarchais. See?

See, there. Dancing cloud. Sir. How long do these races last? Do you know? No, a minute or two, I guess. Oh, it's awful. Knowing that the race is probably over by now and we sit here. My name was that jacked 15 million...

Do you think there's some mistake? I knew I could do it, a man we never saw before yesterday. But he did win without that money, didn't he? I know that. There'll be some mistake and there's some reason. I'll bet he's not even there. Listen, listen. Winner in the fourth at Chantilly...

Dancing clouds. Oh, we did it, boy, we did it. How about that? Oh, yeah, I ate 10 years in those two minutes. Come on, let's get up to that window. A quarter of a million in American dollars. How about that, eh? See, you got that ticket? Don't worry about that ticket. Oh, man, you know, those jockeys don't really know their stuff to pull a race like that.

And nobody suspects a thing. Winning ticket from the fourth race. Yes, sir. Oh, yes, sir. Will you be... Money, please, Rene. I'll need several thousand meal notes, please. And what more? Just a moment, sir. I'll check this card. You'll get all that money? All right, sir. If you'll just count it, please. One moment, please, gentlemen. Yes? I am the manager here, gentlemen. Would you mind telling me how you got here? This is a private club, you know. I know, but I have my card right here and... What do you know, huh? Credentials invalid, but...

You have a pretty large window here. Marcel, did you take this gentleman's check? Yes, sir, right here. Well, you have won this bet. The money is yours. We'll put this check through the bank, and if they approve it, you'll be paid off. We'll impound your money right here. You are stopping in Paris, aren't you? Just until the bank reports back. But... And by all means, keep your ticket. It's your receipt, gentlemen. Good day. Just a moment, please. Yes? Yes?

I'd prefer that you did not bank this check immediately. Huh? What is that? Well, I'll have the cash deposited in a local bank very soon. Matter of a few days, and you can clear it through. But right now, I'm a little embarrassed for funds in my own bank. Then you should not have written that check. Illegal, monsieur. Well, all right. I'll hold your check for a short time. Say, a week? A week? Oh, it's irregular. But, uh, all right.

You either deposit the 15 million francs in our bank or bring it here to the club within the week. That will show you could have paid the bet in the event you lost. Good day, gentlemen. Poor Harris. Poor Harris. I wish I could have been there to see him. Oh, his face must have fallen to see all that money, real money, too, right in front of him. Be reaching out to take it. Ha, ha, ha. Not yet.

So, Harris, a very disappointed little sucker indeed comes back to the hotel with Janine to talk it over with me. Don't you think that my getting us a week's time was pretty smart? Oh, sure, sure it was, but we still have to lay our hands on 15 million francs to make that check good. Yeah, exactly right, Harris. Well, Janine, how much cash can you raise? Cash? Hmm.

Yes, cash. Bien, bien, let's see. I have about 3.5 million francs in government bonds. I can cash those on short notice. Oh, how about you, Harris? Could you raise the other 11.5 million? That's only about 37,000 American dollars. I've been thinking about it, Lime. Worrying.

on the way over. You know, most of my money back in the States is tied up in real estate. As far as I figure it, I can't raise more than $28,000 in a hurry. Now, that leaves us stuck for $9,000. Yeah, yeah. Well, I'll tell you, I have a bank account here in Paris. I just hope my principal's back in the States never hear about this, but I guess I can take the chance of letting you have the other $9,000 until this thing's cleared up. Shouldn't take long. Oh, it'd be wonderful if you would. ♪

This next day or so is crucial. Until Harris' cash can be cabled from the States, I've got to be sure that he's kept on ice. $28,000, it's worth all the time and effort. Two days, three, and his money arrives. Johnny and Harris and I walk to the club to turf together, Johnny and I carrying the 50 million francs. So we get to the club. I look up from decoding a cablegram which was handed to me as I left the hotel.

Hmm. It's Mal de Mer in the third race at Chantier today. Three to one. Mal de Mer. Yes. We better look up that manager. There he is. Oh, monsieur. Huh? One moment, please. Ah.

You want him, gentlemen? You remember? Janine and Monsieur Rice here. Oh, I'm afraid I... That bet for 15 million. You held up our check until... Oh, yes, yes, indeed. Just present your ticket to the cashier. I assume you have the money with you? Right here. Yes, sir. Fine, fine. Just show the ticket and the money to the cashier. At the Bouguereau in the first of the quarter, get about by one, frankly, by a half.

Come on, Janin, cash that check, the ticket in. I'll just see if the odds are null and they're three to one. Golly, my share of that dough at three to one? Yes, sir, this ticket. My receipt for the manager will be just to show it to you. Ah, yes, Mr. Janin, is it not? You have the 15 million in cash? Right here. Yeah, the odds are three to one, all right. Fine. Money, please.

Now then, that's 78 million francs, right? That's right, I believe. These packages are 10 million apiece. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. That's 70 million. And 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. I think that's right. Count it, please. Well, why don't you place it on Maldemar? The second race is up. I think I'll watch the marker. That's a good idea. Put it all on Maldemar to win. First time for the second race, Jordi, was 2.05. Off time was 2.5 and a half.

78 million en mal de mer to win. And here's your ticket, sir. Well, gentlemen, a cooling drink while we wait. Did you place the money, Janine? Yes, I did. I hope nothing goes wrong. Here's the ticket line. Good Lord, man. You bet this horse to win? I said place. That horse will run second. Ah!

I say, manager, can we exchange this ticket from a win ticket to a place ticket? Oh, now, really, sir. But it's very important, and I beg of you, please. Now, really, this is ridiculous. The race is already being won. But it was a mistake, monsieur. I assure you that it was my intention that the wager should be for place, not win. I am sorry, sir. Nothing can be done after the marker has called the off time for the race. Rules of the house. Oh, you dumber.

Knox, Janine, my $9,000. I ought to thrash you with an inch of... Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. Get your hands off me. You crook. You'll throw my money away. He'll rule me too. Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. No, no, alive. No, alive. Harris, Harris, quick. We've got to get out of here. Come on, Harris, quick. The French police.

Of course, we left my specially rigged club as quickly as we could. Janin was sprawled in a welder of blood, and Harris, you may be sure, was stark sheer, 100% terrified. But don't you worry. This was all just fun for the kiddies. Just horseplay.

The bullets I fired were blanks. The blood all over Johnny's handsome garlic profile was chicken blood... spurting out of a punctured bladder at the opportune moment. After all, we now had my friend Harris' 28,000 American dollars, didn't we? So our only problem was to terrify him into leaving town without peeping to the police. In my hotel room, I poured him a drink. Here. Here, Harris, old man. You need this. Oh, thanks. I'm afraid I killed him. If you hadn't, I would have... I never should carry a gun. When I lose my temper, old man, I go crazy. We've got to think...

The worst of it is, I've involved you as an accomplice. Good Lord, that's right. One thing, it was a private club. Now look, you'd better pack, old man. Got an Italian visa? No, yes. Well, go to Italy. Try and get rid of that suit somewhere. There's blood spattered on it. Throw it off the train, perhaps. Yes, but where in Italy? Oh, in Italy. There's my wife, my business. Can't you lie low for a while, just a week or so, until we find out whether that fool Janine dies or not? I'll tell you.

Go to the Hotel Splendide in Rome. I'll wire you there. I'll get you out of this. Oh, yes, I'll get you out of this, old man. I feel, after all, that I'm partially responsible for all this. Well, it's awfully good of you. Nonsense, nonsense, old man. You do the same for me. Now, then, into the bathroom. Go on, wash up. There's a train to Rome in 30 minutes. Yes. And you've got to be on it. I will, yes.

He was, too. And I sat back, quietly savoring a highball, mentally spending my lion's share of his $28,000. My expenses weren't more than 8,000 tops. What a wonderful horseplay it had been, to be sure. Hmm. This would be Janine with the lute. Yeah? Yeah?

Ah, Janine, my sweet, my lovely, my dove, my pigeon. Where's the dough? Harry, the Vicks, the French cops, they raided your club right after you left. No, you're kidding. All the cast, they can lay their hands on the rest. Louis and Berthod and Radley and the whole crowd. Truth be here, this is all I could grab before I could get. How much, how much did you get? Our original steak, Harry, and a small profit. How much profit? Two millifrag notes, Harry. One piece. Two dollars and a half. Two dollars and a half.

Harry Lyme returns in just a moment.

And now, Harry Lyme. Grand Friends was one of the most successful failures I've ever had. There's a sunny side to it. I'm still at liberty and not at prison. This is a great advantage in my business. I'm not at all depressed, for I know that this is a lovely world full of Jack Harris's. And I assure you I will meet another such very shortly. Until then, if you're going to spend money on horses...

Be sure they're on the merry-go-round. But the most you can lose is the brass ring. ♪♪

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You ready, Edward? Hmm? You coming? No, I'm not. What do you mean you're not? I'm not coming. I'm going to the freezer shop. Sorry. Well, you said you were going to come and help me. I've got some urgent work to do. Work? It's Saturday morning. I know, but there's been a large insurance claim, and I have to work out the details before Monday. It's very complicated. Then why aren't you at the office dealing with it? What's the matter?

We don't seem to do anything together anymore. Please try and understand. Understand? It's always me that has to try and understand. Well, why not ask that lazy son of yours? Where is he? Why can't he help you? Because you said you were coming. It was all arranged. Well, now I'm not. So ask that bloody lazy son of mine to get off his backside and work up a sweat and... Hello. Talking about me again, I see. Yes. Help your mother with the shopping so I can get some peace.

I thought you were going. Well, I'm not going now. I have work to do. To pay the mortgage, the bank loan on the car, and the holiday we're all, I repeat, all taking at the end of the month. There's no need to take it out on Jack. Nineteen, and he hasn't done a decent day's work in his life. Because he's studying. Drama? My God. Why doesn't he study for something useful? Oh, it's easy to sneer at someone because they want to do something different from a pen pusher like you. Pen pusher?

Is that all you think of me, a pen pusher? Well, let me tell you something, Francis. I've managed to put a roof over your head and decent clothes on your back for the last 25 years. Pen pusher I may be, but at least I can walk down this road with some respect. Bloody pen pusher. God, you bitch. I didn't mean that. He knows you didn't. He's not just about coming out shopping. I know. Yeah, well...

Will you come with me and give me a hand instead? Of course. I'll just go up and change. Mum? Yeah? Everything between you and Dad is, um, well, all right, isn't it? In spite of everything. You wouldn't think so just now, would you? Everyone has arguments. Especially married people. And especially when they've been married for 25 years. Is that it, then? No. The relationship changes.

Maybe you take each other for granted. You get on each other's nerves. I don't even know whether you expect more from each other or less. I suppose 25 years is a peculiar time for a marriage. It's when being taken for granted begins to establish itself. When big rows materialise over little things. It's when the children are grown up and all that's left... Is dead. I didn't mean it to sound like that.

No, you suddenly find that you've come full circle. You're on your own again. The two of you. As it was when you started. And instead of fighting and working hard for something, you have to be content with what you've got. What you've achieved. And Dad hasn't achieved very much. Is that what you think? Well, it doesn't matter what I think. It's what you think, isn't it? Do you think he's a bit of a failure? No. Oh, no, I don't. I just think... Yes? Yes.

Well, I shouldn't be saying this. Maybe I'm being unfair, but I think he's become rather boring. And I expect I seem the same to him. I'm dreading the day he retires. Maybe he'll change. Maybe he'll become more boring, like our next-door neighbours. Since he's retired, they do nothing but quarrel. Haven't you heard them through the walls? Quite often, yes. Their bedroom is next to mine, remember? You know what I mean.

Maybe I'm the problem. What do you mean? Well, the fact that I'm at drama school, not earning. Maybe the pressure... Don't be silly. The thought of having an actor in the family is the only bit of excitement I can look forward to. An out-of-work actor in the family? Don't be silly, Jack. You're like me. You've got your mother's drive and initiative. OK. I'll become a star just for you. To be or not to be...

That is the question. That's not mum and dad, surely? To suffer the slings and arrows of our great...

Oh, God, they're at it next door now. Listen to them. What's the point of getting married if it ends up like that? It doesn't have to end up like that, though, does it? Surely not. I can't believe that all marriages have to end up like that. Good night, Jack. Night, Mum.

They're at it again. And how? Your father's asleep. Yes, I heard him come up. Good night, dear. Night, Mum. I'll never get married. My God, he can't have... Perhaps if I put my ear to the wall... Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Ah, there you are, Jack. Toast's getting cold. Has Dad gone? Yes, it's half past eight.

Let's hope the train's on time. He's not in a very good mood this morning. Why? I wanted to talk to him. What about? Next door. What do you mean? Well, they were rowing hammer and tongs last night. Well, you heard them. As I went to bed, yes. I heard Mrs Watson scream. Yes, screaming at Morris. No, it wasn't. Well, let me put it this way. I thought it was at the time, but I don't think it was. I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about.

Last night, the Watsons were having one God Almighty row. Yeah. They were calling each other names. That's normal. Then Mrs. Watson screamed and there was a silence. To the relief of the neighbours, yes. Now, Mum, I don't want you to laugh or put it down to my sense of theatre, but this morning when I was dressing, I just happened to look outside to see what the weather was doing. It was raining. That's right. And I saw Mr. Watson digging in the garden.

Mr. Watson never digs in the garden. Precisely. Whereabouts? Close to the house, near our fence. Well, why would he dig there? He hates gardening. Well, even if he loved gardening, have you ever seen the most avid gardener digging in the rain? Jack, what are you trying to say? What do you think I'm trying to say? It's ridiculous. It all adds up, Mum. Jack, I won't believe it. I heard her scream. I think something awful's happened next door. What?

What do you think we ought to do? Martha, for heaven's sake, what do you think we ought to do? You mean the police? Well, who else would you go and see? Without your father's say so. But he's not here, is he? Supposing it was nothing? Supposing it was all your imagination? Then no harm's done. We'd make ourselves look foolish. I heard them rowing, Mum. I heard her scream. Then there was nothing.

Now, this morning, he's out there burying her. You don't know that. Now, Jack, you don't know that. No, but it looks pretty suspicious to me. Look, can't we wait and I'll phone your father at the office? By then it might be too late. He might have gone off somewhere abroad. In an hour? Well,

Maybe he was planning it all along. Maybe it wasn't a crime committed on the spur of the moment. Maybe he already has his plane ticket for South America. Jack, this is madness. You're over-dramatising everything like you always do. Then I'll go and see the police. Well, don't blame me if your father's furious.

I've never been so embarrassed in all my life. He's apologised, Edward. Let's forget it. Apology? And do you think that's enough? I can't think what else I can say. Oh, you can't, eh? Well, I can, Jack. You can go and apologise to the Watsons next door for a start. And then the police. But, Dad... You're a menace, Jack. Do you know that? You're one great...

bloody disaster area. What are the neighbours going to think? And you're just as bad, Frances. Oh, it's my fault. It had to be my fault. To be taken in by his theatrical imagination. Yes, his macabre imagination. Murder, indeed. Bodies buried in the garden. I mean, Frances, I did credit you with a bit more common sense. If it had been true, I suppose I would have been accused of being inept. But it wasn't true, was it? Instead, the whole thing is a

bloody great embarrassment. In the local paper, no doubt, pictures of the so-called murdered wife laughing her bloody head off. She screamed. Because she fell.

She's in bed now with a broken ankle. And, in a fit of remorse, Morris is at last doing something about the garden. In the rain? To make amends, yes. Maybe you could take a leaf out of his book. Listen, you. You're a bloody lazy good-for-nothing. Thank God we're going on holiday to get away from all this embarrassment.

And when we come back, you're going to leave that drama school and you're going to look for a job. You can't get a job today. We're in a depression. And you're the cause of it. You're going out looking for a decent job, a real job. You're going to give up all this pretense of being a bloody actor. Pretense?

I convinced mother. This isn't funny, Jack. Are you siding with him? I'm not taking any sides, but I do agree with your father that it's made us the laughing stock of the street and ruined whatever relationship we had with them next door. We never had a relationship with them next door. You've never been in there and they've never been in here. They're strangers like everyone around here. They're strangers, like us.

Just our bloody luck. What's that, then? Fog. There's something wonderful and mysterious about fog at sea. Oh, you're a romantic. That's the trouble with you. Nothing wrong with that, surely. Oh, I hope it clears soon. This is one of the busiest parts of the channel. That's right, Edward. Get me all tensed up. For God's sake, Frances, shut up. You're such an unfeeling man.

No wonder Jack doesn't like you. Well, after his recent escapade with the police and our imaginary murderous next-door neighbours, I couldn't give a fig what he thinks of me. I'm determined not to be drawn, Edward. I'm going to enjoy my holiday, even if you're not.

That is, if we ever get to see France through this mist. I'm a romantic and you're a pessimist. I've come to the conclusion, Edward, that I don't think you like anyone enjoying themselves. I do if they allow me to enjoy myself. And we all know what that means, letting you have your own way. You're childish too at times, you really are. I'm going down to the restaurant. I'd like a coffee. Coming? In a minute. It's cold up here, don't be long.

My God, Francis. If I had the nerve, I'd push you right over the side now and watch you go under. No, Edward, no, you don't mean that. Yes, I do. Yes. Sometimes I could. I could quite easily. Mind you. I suppose she could do that to me sometimes. Dad? Oh, Jack, it's you. I was wondering where you'd got to. Well, as you can see, I'm here. Where's Mum? She's gone to get a coffee. That's where I shall go now. Look...

While we're on holiday, isn't there a chance of forgetting about... well, you know... Not easily, Jack, no. But in the cause of peace, I shall try. Thanks. Then, when we get back home, we'll return to normal, eh? Oh, come on, Dad. What if it had been true? What if it had been true and I'd done absolutely nothing? Wouldn't we have looked equally foolish? I'll see you downstairs in the restaurant.

Don't let's talk about it, Jack. We're on holiday. My God. Sometimes I think... Sometimes I could push that arrogant little man into the sea and just... No, Jack, you mustn't talk like that. You don't mean it. He's your father, after all. Mother's weak, of course. She gives in to him. Gives in to his boorish ways. She can be a pain in the neck, too, if it comes to... Oh, stop it, Jack. Jack.

It's called early morning fog. What? Oh, did I startle you? Uh, yes. I didn't hear you come up behind me. Sorry. I said it was early morning fog. It's going to turn out a nice day later on. You mocked my words. I saw you looking into the water. You've seen my wife? Your wife? Um, no, I haven't seen anyone. I think I'm the only one on deck. It's just that I saw you leaning over the side, so I thought you might have seen my wife. Uh...

No, no I haven't. Good. I expect she's sunk then. I was afraid she might have bobbed up like a balloon. Let's see. No, no, no, you're right. Not a sign of anyone. Mind you, I didn't think she would bob up and down, but you never know with a strong-minded woman like Annabel. Annabel? My wife. I couldn't stand her any longer. So I brought her on this boat trip and pushed her overboard.

I felt a bit sick afterwards, so I rested in the cabin. Suddenly I was afraid in case you might bob up again. Phew. Let me tell you something, young man. Never get married. Oh, I'm so sorry. You're not even... No, no, I'm only 19. Well, caught you just in time then. Are you on this boat by yourself? No, no, I'm with my parents. Are you a girlfriend? No. Well, not at the moment. Don't blame your...

Women are unnatural, aren't they? Well, their minds don't work. That's the trouble. They just have feelings. Do you know, before she came on board, Annabelle said to me, you're going to try to get rid of me. I feel it in my bones. Well, I ask you, how could she know? Unnatural. Anyway, I did more than try. I did get rid of her. Oh, she was fat, Annabelle. She was enormous. That's why she sang.

Do you know why wives are fat and girlfriends mostly slim? Er, no. Why? Because wives relax. They've got their man, they're secure for life, they have an income without work. Take Annabel, for instance. Beautiful girl when she was young. Loved her. Oh, yes. Oh, I really loved her. She was affectionate, aimed to please. But once she had that ring on her finger and a house to sit in, she just... Well, she just sat.

sat, ate chocolates, read cheap novels and watched television. And when she wasn't doing any of those things, she twittered on and on and on. Look, I hope you don't mind me saying this. What? Well, you are pulling my leg, aren't you? What about? Annabelle twittering? No, no, I meant about you pushing her overboard. Hear that? Yes. Well, that's just how Annabelle used to sound. That's right, just like a seagull.

There's this great big body and out comes a voice like... Valerie! Valerie is there! Did you hear that? Pardon? It's her. My God, it's Annabelle! Valerie is there!

Annabelle! You're dead! So are you. What? I poisoned your coffee before you drowned me. You're lying dead in our cabin at this moment. Only you're so insensitive you don't realise it. And who's this young man? What's your name? Jack. Then you can see me, Jack. Well, of course I can see you. You must be psychic.

Gregory, we must wander around the ship and find out who can see us and who can't. That way we can separate the plodhoppers from the sensitives. But how the hell did you get out of the water? I didn't. That is, my body didn't. But I'm here.

You really are dead, Gregory. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to see me, you being one of the Clothhoppers. If you don't believe me, go along to your cabin and see yourself. I did lie down in the cabin for a while, feeling a bit sick. Well, then I pulled myself together and came up here. You pulled yourself together? Dead?

out of your body, just as I did. Go along and look if you don't believe me. Excuse me a minute, Jack. Poor old Gregory. You see, Jack, now

I had a feeling he was planning to kill me. Felt it in my bones. But I went on being sensitive, like you. You're sensitive, aren't you, Jack? Anyway, I decided that if he could be so selfish and unfriendly as to kill me, I'd do the same to him, tit for tat. Now he's lost his own life and still hasn't got rid of me. We'll be bound together for all...

all eternity. The couple who did each other in. What closer bond could you get? But I'll try to be nicer to him now. Bygones and all that. Now, Jack, what do you think of all this? Well, I think that the rocking of the boat and probably a lot of duty-free booze has made you and your husband have delusions. A sort of

Shared DTs. DTs? Yes, it means delirium tremens. Alcoholics have it. They see things that aren't there, like green and pink elephants and whatnot. Now, you may have wanted to murder each other, but you obviously didn't, otherwise you wouldn't be here. That's what I think. Oh, you poor dear little soul. Here you are, psychic as they come, communing with a couple of ghosts, and you don't even realise it.

I accept a lot of people you've talked to during your life have been ghosts and you simply haven't known it. Oh, well. You know what I shall enjoy most about being a ghost? Know what? The sheer convenience of it all. I can visit other people's homes without them knowing, travel the world without it costing a penny, the sheer...

The freedom of it all appeals enormously to me. Ah, here's Gregory. The cabin's empty. That means you must have been found while you were up here talking to this young man and put wherever they put dead bodies on a ship. And where would that be? Do you know, Jack?

Um, no, sorry, haven't got a clue. I tell you what, Gregory, we'll have an invisible walk about the ship and see if we can find you. What do you say, Jack? Want to come with us? Look, I suggest you both go to the restaurant, sit down and order yourself some strong black coffee. You don't believe any of this, do you? He doesn't believe we're ghosts, Gregory. He thinks we're suffering from

What? He thinks we're hallucinating. I think you've had a jolly good fight. Rather like my parents do.

But you've also got yourself totally drunk and perhaps you feel seasick as well. That's why you're here. You're probably feeling absolutely dreadful. Well, speaking for myself, I never felt better in my life. Well, then I think you should make it up. You can't go on quarrelling forever. The child's right, Gregory. But I can't stand her. Oh, come on, Gregory. We're going to be together forever now, you know. So it's to our advantage to be friends. Look.

Let me start by saying I apologize for poisoning you. There. You see? It's easy. Oh, all right. I apologize to Annabelle for drowning you. Actually, I was a bit sorry afterwards. Now shake hands. That's right. Now go back to your cabin and sleep it off.

Look, the fog's clearing. He still doesn't believe us. The sea's getting a bit of a swell on it. The rest of the crossing's going to be rough. I feel it in my bones. Yes, I think I'll go downstairs too. I'm beginning to feel a bit... Sick. Yes, that's right. Just a bit. Excuse me.

Ah, there you are, Jack. You look pale. You all right? It's got rather rough, hasn't it? I'll be all right. You'll get used to the motion. Have a sip of water, dear. There's a biscuit there if you want one. No, thanks, Mum. Just try to relax. It's the tension that does it. Who are you waving to, Jack? Well, just a couple I met on deck earlier on. I don't know their surname.

What couple do you mean, dear? Over there, by the door. I think I'll have another drink. Same for you, Frances. Your father's in a generous mood. I think we're going to have a good holiday, Jack. I don't know what's brought it on. Probably what I heard the barman telling someone. One of the passengers has just died of food poisoning and his wife's missing too. They fear she may have fallen overboard. What?

Dad, are you sure? Well, I got to thinking that life's rather short and unpredictable when you come to think about it. And when I heard this poor couple, probably like us, just starting on the holiday, well, I suppose our lives have been getting into a rut. Will you tell me something? Please. What's the matter? Can you see them? Who, dear? The man with the moustache and the rather fat lady in the blue dress. The table to the left of the main door. Oh.

You feel all right, Jack? Can you see them? The table's empty, dear. Are you sure? Of course. What's the matter with you? It's like she said. I'm psychic. A seasick more like it. Go on, Jack. But, boy, let's go up on deck. We must be approaching the French coast. Some fresh air will do us all good.

Take a deep breath, Jack. That'll make you feel better. Slowly, Jack. As deep as you can. You'll feel better in no time. Look, the sun's really out now. It's going to be warm. I'm so looking forward to this holiday, Edward. Me too. Good God. What's that, Jack? Er, nothing. Nothing. Oh, dear. This is something... Someone... No, it can't be. You see them too. Holding hands, I wonder.

walking on the water yes yes it's probably a trick of the sunlight mustn't get like jack and his dramatic ways hey jack can you see them um a man and a rather big lady walking ahead of the boat on the water yes it's a it's a it's a trick of the light it must be no no i can't see anything maybe it's a good omen hey edward

If you're going to be nice, then be nice. I am being nice. Well, that remark you made just now. What remark? You can't remember that I'm not going to remind you. And one other thing. I don't want any more references to my being fat. Fat? You're not fat. Fat, I'm huge. You're huge! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

LAUGHTER That was Channel Crossing by Rosemary Timperley with Nicholas Lindhurst as Jack, Peter Sallis as Edward and Patsy Rowlands as Frances. Gregory and Annabelle were played by Gregory de Poulney and Sonia Fraser. Other parts were members of the cast. It was a BBC World Service drama production directed by Derek Hoddenos. MUSIC

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No, no stay where you are do not break the stillness of this moment I

For this is a time of mystery. A time when imagination is free and moves forward swiftly, silently. This is The Haunting Hour. The Haunting Hour

The Old Old Men. At the foot of Fulton Street, where fishing vessels and other boats come laden with cargo for New York City's people and industry, lies the Schooner Hotel.

Surrounded by dingy fish markets, grey forbidding warehouses, and abandoned buildings, it overlooks the cobblestones of South Street. Many years ago, perhaps, it was the private mansion of some colonial merchant. Now...

It houses only the old, the poor, and the unwanted. Retired sailors and fishermen, broken-down draymen, and those who have lived out their lives, but have not died. One foggy December evening, a shining black limousine glided to a stop in front of the hotel.

Mrs. Ralph Hollister sat in the back, tense with shock and astonishment. Schooner Hotel. Snowden, are you sure this awful place is where my stepfather lives? Yes, ma'am. I checked the address with the detective. He said Mr. Stebbins had been here three months, ma'am. Snowden, wait here, please. If I need your help, I'll call you. Yes, ma'am.

Funny the old gentleman coming back to where he started. Isn't it, Mrs. Hollister? Don't worry, Snowden. He won't be there for long. How much higher, Mr. Hazard? This floor. Practically there. Here it is, ma'am.

Be there, you old grape-robber. What in the name of Sam Hiller? Diana. Good evening, Father. Oh, yeah, Diana. Joe, I'd like you to meet my daughter, my stepdaughter. Diana, this walking corpse is Joe Hazard. He runs the place. We've met. That'll be all, Mr. Hazard. Yes, ma'am.

See you later, Larry. Dead, I hope. Let's go inside, Dad, and shut the door. Have a seat, Diana. I won't sit down because I'm not going to stay. You've had us all worried sick, running away from home and not letting us know where you were.

I sent you postcards. What more do you want? You're coming home with me right now. Immediately. Let's start packing. Now, Diana, don't start that. I'm not going back to all those stuffy society people. You're 78, Father. You're rich, entitled to comfort. Diana, now you get this straight. I won't go back with you. Dad. Now, listen, Diana. I've got everything I want. Good fishing, good sleeping, good eating, good friends. Friends?

Those horrible men... Yes, friends. There's not one of us that doesn't look forward to the other's funeral. Hey, Joe, Joe, put another lump of coal on the stove. It's cold in the lobby. Why don't you wear a warmer shroud? Now, don't be so stingy. You won't be here much longer to enjoy your money. Look who's talking about money, Joe. The undertaker told me that Stebbins was in price in a gold casket the other day.

That's a good one. Now, look here, Joe. There are nine of us, all about the same age. What do you mean, same age? I make you one. Okay, okay, Pete. But you'll all see, I'm going to outlast the rest of you old duffers. That boasting of yours is a bad business, Stebbins. Joe's right. As a matter of fact, you haven't been looking so well lately, Stebbins. Who says? Me, Tim Owens. Shut up!

Spinelli the Ice-Terman looked just like you, dude, right before he was took. He was hardly 75. Now, look, Peter, if you don't stop me... Don't be a sorehead, Stebbins. Pete's just paying you back. I can take it, Tim. But you've all been ganging up on me, haven't you, Scott? What's fair is fair. Lay off him, boys. Scotty's right, yeah. Of course, Larry. The boys can't help it.

Many a time, I've seen him taking an old horse from Frenchy's stable and says to myself, I wonder when they're going to lead Larry Stebbins away. Larry, you'd get a big kick out of seeing me go, wouldn't you? Of course I would. With you gone and all our wills made out to the survivor, there'd be real money in the pie. Sure, before we cut you in, the whole prize for surviving weren't more than $20,000 for the whole eight of us. Now, it's millions. That's why we're ganging up on you. Larry, I...

I never could figure why, with all your dough, you took a hand in it. Why, to win, of course, Tim. To see if I can lick the game of death the way I've licked everything else. Stebbins, you know what I think. No, what? I think you're nuts. Well, we'll see. Now, Tim, I ran into a bargain you could use real soon. Yeah? Yeah. A nice, cheap gray. Yeah.

It was horrible, Ralph, and yet he absolutely refused to leave. Well, Diana, we might as well face it. Your stepfather hasn't been happy living with us. But why must he stay in a place like the schooner? Oh, any other surroundings are too tame for him. He's always been a vigorous person. Then, oh, there's this morbid game they play. It's incredible. One night, he said he climbed into bed and found a tombstone there with his name on it. Oh, it isn't human, Ralph. It isn't human. Oh, Diana, it's not human.

Now, darling, take it easy. Ralph, you've got to make him move. You've just got to. All right, Diana, but how? I don't know. You just must go down there with me and speak to him. No, I'm afraid speaking won't do any good, dear. We'll have to use force.

All his life, Lawrence Stebbins has used force, and it's the only thing he understands. Do you know where Mr. Stebbins is, Mr. Owens? Couldn't rightly say. Saw him go out early this morning.

Hasn't been sitting around the stove at all today like he usually does. Oh, where's mr. Hazard Joe he's out for a breath of air Won't do him no good though. What do you mean? He's bound to go anyway. Ralph don't listen to him It's just that awful game. Oh, here's Joe now. Hey Joe Larry Stebbins doubt is looking for him. You seen him I'd come to take mr. Stebbins home. Mr. Hazard. I'm afraid you won't be able to do that. Miss Hollister Why where is he? Is

Is this his cap, Mom? Well, let me see it, please. Initials L.S. Abbott, brother. Yes, that's where he buys his clothes. Yes, I think it is. I thought so. Some kids out there gave it to me. Where'd they find it? They said it belonged to a guy who jumped off the end of the pier. An old man like myself, they said. Oh.

Suicide? That's what it looks like to me, mister. No, Ralph, it couldn't be. If there was one thing that Lawrence Tebbins wanted, it was to stay alive. You mean... I mean, if he died, there was just one reason. Murder. Murder.

Here it is, Fish Market Diner. Well, let's go in, Ralph. All right. But I still don't see why you're so suspicious.

What can I do for you? Did you know Lawrence Stebbins of the Schooner Hotel? Sure, I know him. Great sport. Regular customer. Was he in here today? Sure was. Had a big breakfast and was happy as a weasel. Next thing I knew, he'd kicked the bucket. What do you mean he was happy? Well, Mac, he was cracking wise. He even did an old-time dance with his hat on his cane. Hat? You mean his cap? Oh, no, ma'am. He was wearing a hat.

If we just stand here opposite the hotel, we can watch who comes and goes without being seen in the dark. Diana, watch that door.

Someone's coming now. Oh, you know him. That's Tim Owens. No, I can't see very well. We better get closer. Let's go over behind the loading platform on the next pier. All right. The light should show their faces better from there. Let's go. Made it. Ralph, look. Look where? Right behind me. Yes, there. The two of the old men. Pete Sanders and Charlie Hall. Both asleep. Yes.

But they're not asleep.

They're dead. Stone dead. It was just at the side of the pier north of the hotel. As soon as we saw them, we came for you, Sergeant Boyd. You say there were two of them? Yes, you can see for yourself. Probably just a couple of bums sleeping off a drunk. On a December night? Besides, I'm sure they were Pete Sanders and Charlie Hall. They were dead, all right. We'll see, we'll see.

You're a little edgy about your stepfather's suicide, ain't you, ma'am? Of course I am. Well, you could have made a mistake. You know, the police boat is still out there dragging the river. May take days to find him. Well, here we are. Now, we were standing just about here, weren't we, Diana? And the bodies... The bodies? They're gone. The bodies?

Say, Joe, Sergeant Boyd was in here looking for Pete Sanders and Charlie Hall while you were out. What do you want him for, Scotty? Said Stebbins' daughter thought she saw him dead. The way she and her husband was talking, you'd think Larry Stebbins wasn't fit for the undertaker anyway. No, no, Tim. Don't hold it against the young lady. She's all worked up. They'll find the old man's body, she'll calm down, and we can all go to the funeral. Say, Tim, you didn't happen to see Pete or Charlie this evening? No, I didn't, Scotty.

But I was out a while. Maybe Sullivan did. Wake up, Sullivan. Wake up! He's been sitting here in the lobby all evening, snoozing off and on. That's a good idea, Tim. Sullivan! Sullivan! Hey, wake up! He's out like a light. Hey, I think I'll hang some crepe on him. Scare him when he comes to. Oh, lay off that stuff for a while, Tim. It gives me the willies. Sullivan! Sullivan! Try shaking him, Scotty. Sullivan! Wake up! Hatch!

Hey, hey, don't fall over like that. Joe, Joe, he's not asleep. He's dead.

Diana, let's go home. No one's got in or out of the hotel for an hour. Ralph, I'm just as cold as you are, but I'm going to stay here. Even if it takes all night. All right, darling. Anyway, I'm convinced that you're right. The person who killed Sanders and Hall killed your stepfather, too. Only this time we came along before the bodies were disposed of. Ralph. What, Diana? Those were real bodies, weren't they? Yes.

Certainly. I even noticed a small wounded one. I think it was Hall. That's exactly what I mean. If they were carried anywhere, there might be bloodstains. Yes. We could trace them. They were probably taken backwards toward the river. I'll look there. I'll look over here, toward the street. All right. No, nothing here. Ralph. What? Come here. What is it, Diana? I've picked up a trail of dark red spots. Good. Yes.

We'll follow them. They seem to lead right to this abandoned building next to the hotel. So they do. From the direction, I'd say they'd go straight to that side door. We'll try it. Mm-hmm. That's where they've gone. Well, try the door. Diana, it's open. Come on in. Good evening, Diana. Good evening, Ralph. I've been expecting you. Mr. Stebbins.

When Lawrence Stebbins disappeared from the shabby schooner hotel at the waterfront, the police and everyone else thought he had committed suicide.

However, his stepdaughter Diana and her husband, Ralph Hollister, felt that Larry Stebbins, who had fought his way up in the world, would not give up the ghost simply because he was badgered by the other old men living at the hotel. They were sure someone had begun to play the macabre game of death in earnest.

especially after they found two of the old men dead. But when they opened the side door of the abandoned house next to the hotel and were greeted genially by the man whose murderer they were seeking, they didn't know what to think.

Well, Diana, what's the matter? You look as if you're not glad to see me. Oh, it's not that. Father, you're not... We thought that you were... You gave us quite a turn, Mr. Stebbins. If we expected anything, we thought it would be your...

I mean that we wouldn't find you here quite like this. You mean you thought I was dead. Well, why not say it? Well, after all... Can't stand this pussyfooting about a common natural word. We all die sooner or later. Question is who manages to hold on a little longer. Oh, please. Don't start that morbid talk again. It ain't morbid. It's natural. It's horrible. Now, now, Mr. and Mrs. Hollister, do you mind telling me what you're doing snooping around at this time of night?

Well, sir, I think it's your turn to answer that question. Why, right at this moment, the police are dragging the river for your body. They are?

That's downright amusing. Poor fellows must be cold out there. I fail to see anything funny about it. You wouldn't. Why are you here? Well, I came to like it here. Quiet. Lots of young people. Stop that nonsense. Why are you here? Here? Here? Oh, yes, here. Well, I was locked up here. That's not true. The door was open when we came in. That's true. Very true. And do you know why the door was open? No. Why?

All I know is that you're telling me a story. You're wrong, Diana. You see, the door was open to let you come in. You wanted to come in, didn't you? Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with... You wanted to come in. I unlocked the door. Now, really, I don't see that you have any cause for complaint. Look, that's beside the point. You say you were locked in here. Why? Why? Well, it's this way.

A fellow wanted to kidnap me. You mean that you're hiding here from someone? No, no. No, no. He did kidnap me. Oh, sure. And then he gave you a key so that you could get out. The funny thing about that, he doesn't know I have the key. Now, what do you think about that, Diana? That's something, isn't it? If you've got a key, why don't you

No, no, no. Couldn't do that. Next time he came around to check up on me, he'd miss me. Things just wouldn't work out right. Just who is this person? Who? Who? Oh, yes, yes. Who? Uh, Joe Hazard. He forced me in here. Why? Figured he wanted me out of the way for a little while. Uh...

What do you think? I think it's all a pack of lies. What do you mean? You don't have to stay down here one minute longer, and you're not going to. You're coming home with us right now. Now, wait a minute. Yes, who do you think you're bossing around? Oh, Ralph didn't mean anything, Father. It's only that this whole stupid affair has gone far enough. I told you I wasn't going uptown with you. All right, Diana, it's no use arguing. There's only one way to handle this. Grab his other arm and get him out of here. Come on, come on. Be careful, Ralph. Ever since I retired, you two have been trying to run me.

Well, you're not going to any longer. No one in the world can run Larry Stebbins. Why, Lawrence Stebbins, what's come over you? Just come to my senses, that's all. I want to stay here and nobody's going to tell me different. Now get moving. Huh? Where to? You're going down the cellar where you can't interfere. Turn left. Now down those stone steps.

Ralph, the bloodstains, they go this way. I can't believe it. I can't believe it. Be quiet, Diana. You wouldn't want to get me in trouble, would you? Now you. Ralph, open that closet door. Ralph!

The bodies, they're in here. Go ahead, get in there, both of you.

Sanders and Hall show up yet, Tim? No, Joe, and I've been sitting here all the time. I'm beginning to think the Hollisters were right. Yes, so am I, Scotty. There's some funny things going on around here, and we ought to pay them some mind. There's only five of us left. Us three, McIntyre and Everett. We'd better work fast. Where is McIntyre and Everett, Joe? Went to bed, Tim.

I told them they better stay down here, but they laughed and said I was nuts. Didn't they, Scotty? Mac said he was going upstairs to dream about my burial. I got sore as all heck. I can't stand that talk anymore after what's happened. Scotty, go upstairs and tell them to come down here. We ought to keep together. I'd feel safer if I knew you was all sitting here in the lobby. Okay, but they'll probably yell murder when I wake them.

You know what I think, Tim? Hmm? I think Stebbin' Suicide was a put-up job. How do you figure that, Joe? Just got a feelin'. The way the boys acted when they gave me his cap, like there was rehearsed. And then everything that's happened tonight.

I tell you, I'm scared. I'm scared stiff. So am I. You fellas thought Stebbins was kidding about living longer. But he's not that kind of a guy. Look how he made his dough in the shipping business. What do you mean, Joe? Oh, like he said once, he always got what he wanted. He wouldn't stop at nothing.

Never has. But murder, Joe, that's pretty terrible. I wouldn't put it past him, Tim. What's up? It sounds like Scotty. Joe, Jim, I'm getting out of here. I'm getting out of here fast. What's up, Scotty? It's terrible. Terrible. I went into their rooms and their bed was empty and the windows opened. Where were they? I looked out the backyard and they were lying there, the two of them, in a heap. There's only us three left now, Joe. Boys, this is all Stebbins' work. Stebbins?

Oh, Stebbins is dead. Joe was just telling me he thinks Larry Faith is croaking. He's around somewhere, I tell you, and we're going to find him. Where do you think he is, Joe? I've got an idea. He's in the house next door. Then how would he get in here? These used to be twin houses, Tim. There's a door in the cellar that connects them. Let's go and find out. I'll get my gun. I don't want to go there. Get the police. It's their job. There's no time to get the police, Scotty. Then let's get out of here. Let's go anywhere.

Oh, he'll get us for sure if we stay here. Scotty, Scotty, we've got to stick together. There's only three of us left now. Yeah, three of us and Stebbins. Oh, my God.

Ralph, what's happening? I can't hear very well through this ventilator, but I'm sure that after he locked us in here, he went upstairs. I heard the door slam, so he probably went out. If he only hadn't locked us in here with the awful body. Diana...

I suppose it's no use even trying to think he isn't guilty. I'm afraid not, darling. After the way he's behaved. But he's my own stepfather. Whatever happens, I can't turn him over to the police. Maybe it won't be necessary. Once he's had his way for the last time in his life... You mean... Yes.

Oh, it's horrible to say, but I hope for his sake that he does it. Oh, if there were only a way of getting out of here, it would make sense to decide what to do. You don't mean we'll have to stay here. Well, unless someone finds us or he lets us out, I...

I wouldn't be too hopeful. But that's impossible. Ralph, I don't want to die. I don't want to die not in this terrible closet. Quiet, Diana. I think I hear footsteps upstairs. What is it? He must be back again. It sounds like more than one person. Diana, the door. Diana.

The heavy door in the cellar wall that I told you about? It's opening. Can you see who it is? Is it Father? Not yet. Looks like three people. Tim, Scotty, I was right. Look, blood on the floor. It's Hazard. He's following the trail. Poor Dad, it's over for him. He'll reach to the closet. His bed, Pete, and Charlie are in there. Maybe they'll find us. I'll call. No, Ralph, no. I'd rather die than tell them about my stepfather. I'm going upstairs, Tim. Let me have your gun. He's up there, Ralph.

They'll find me. They'll kill him. I hear you, Joe. You want Scotty and me to come along? No. I think I can handle everything now. We'll wait here, Joe. You'll stay down here. Put up your hands, both of you. And move toward that closet door. Joe! Don't play that good at it. I told you I'd be the last to go. But none of you would believe me. To the rest of you, this was just a game. But if I don't get the money and soon I'm going to lose my hotel, there'll be only Stebbins and me.

And the police will take care of him. No, no, no. You wouldn't shoot an old pal, would you, Joe? I did in the other, Tim. No. Just you two left. Now, move towards that closet. Andrew, please. I don't want to. No, don't. Don't let them. They're coming in here. No.

There he is, Sergeant Boyd. Okay, Mr. Stevens. There he is. Got him. Not this time, Joe Hazard. We're booking you for murder. Nice sitting out here in the park, ain't it, stranger? Yeah, Pop. Don't call me Pop. You know who I am? No. Look at this clippin'.

Waterfront hotel keeper convicted for murder of seven on testimony of Lawrence Stebbins retired shipping magnate. And that's me Yes, sir seven murders and there needn't have been any if I'd stopped Joe hazard before he finished them off really Yes, sir went to eight funerals when I really gotta kick out of Joe hazards had to lock my stepdaughter husband up to a nearly crabbed the whole plan

You know, Joe Hazard thought he could plant all those murders on me. I bet you have to be pretty clever to outsmart Larry Stebbins. Listen, Pop, you're going to shut up. I'm reading. Okay, mister, I'll go. Eight funerals. No one will even talk to me. It's kind of lonely, though, now, Larry. Needed. No friends, no family. Yes, Larry, it's kind of lonely.

Like a tune. From shadows and stillness, mystery weaves a spell of strangest fascination, charging the mind with doubts and fears.

For mystery is a strange companion, a living memory in the haunting hour.

♪♪♪

♪♪♪

Heads up, folks. Interest rates are falling. But as of September 23rd, 2024, you can still lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account at public.com. That's a pretty big deal because when rates drop, so can the interest you earn on your cash. A bond account allows you to lock in a 6% or higher yield with a diversified portfolio of high-yield and investment-grade corporate bonds.

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Listen up, folks. Time could be running out to lock in a historic yield at public.com. As of September 23rd, 2024, you can lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account. But here's the thing. The Federal Reserve just announced a big rate cut, and the plan is for more rate cuts this year and in 2025 as well. That's good news if you're looking to buy a home, but it might not be so good for the interest you earn on your cash.

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Brought to you by Public Investing member FINREN SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info. This podcast is sponsored by Talkspace. You know when you're really stressed or not feeling so great about your life or about yourself? Talking to someone who understands can really help. But who is that person? How do you find them? Where do you even start? Talkspace. Talkspace makes it easy to get the support you need.

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But your husband didn't leave me any choice. ♪♪ Have Gun, Will Travel. ♪♪ Starring Mr. John Daner as Paladin. ♪♪ San Francisco, 1875. The Carlton Hotel. Headquarters of a man called Paladin. ♪♪

Sounds wonderful. And then, Mr. Paladin? And then, perhaps a cordial for a nightcap. I do believe I'll be looking forward to this evening a great deal, Mr. Paladin.

And I, too. Mr. Paladin! Oh, what? I've been looking for you. I find you. Hey, boy, your timing is abysmal. Oh, thank you, Mr. Paladin. But credit must go to mailman. He just bring special delivery letter for you.

Excuse me, my dear. Oh, say, I'll meet you in the lounge later? Where? Oh, she is very high dungeon. Dungeon? Yes, sir, that's what I say. Very high dungeon. Dear Mr. Paladin, I need you for an important assignment immediately, and so forth. There is a $3,000 bonus for you upon completion. Something, something. I appreciate seeing you at your earliest convenience, so...

Very truly yours, E.J. Randolph, Coloma Bank. Coloma. Oh, you there not long ago, yes? Yes, about two months ago. Oh, yes. Here are your two tickets for opera tonight. Take them back, hey boy. Yes, what? I'm leaving for Coloma tonight. Oh, must be real big trouble to interfere with a lady who was almost kissed. Wire Mr. Randolph. Tell him I'm on my way. Thank you.

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I found him sitting behind his desk at the bank. Well, paladin. Sure good to see you. Hello, Mr. Randolph. Sit down, sit down. Thank you. How about a little rye to cut the dust? Yeah, I don't mind.

I didn't waste any time getting here. The distance between San Francisco and Coloma is shorter when there's a $3,000 fee involved. Right to the point. That's what I like about you, Paladin. That's why I sent for you. Well, here's luck. Thank you. So, what can I do for you, Mr. Randolph?

Uh, you did a job for John Griffin about two months ago. He hired you to bring back Steve Morrow. Remember him? You don't forget someone you've killed. Didn't mean any offense. No, no. I'm not offended. Morrow tried to kill me. I had to kill him. Griffin wanted Morrow because Morrow had killed his son. What's that got to do with you? Morrow robbed this bank before he killed that Griffin boy. He took $30,000.

I still don't see the connection. Palden, I've got to have that $30,000 back by the first of the month or I'll lose everything I own. And you need help. Yes. Yes, I need help. Badly. Fifteen years of hard work building a business and a name for myself. Gone. Just like that. Gone and signed over to...

John Griffin. John Griffin? How does he figure in this? He's the biggest depositor the bank has. He knows about the stolen money, and he's using that knowledge. He's given me notice that he wants to withdraw $30,000 on the first. If I don't have it, the deed to this building and most of the other property the bank owns will be signed over to him. And I don't have it, Mr. Paladin. Well, then that makes my job fairly easy.

Well, how's that? Find Morrow's widow. She must have the money or at least know where it is. I don't think so. She's still living in that cabin up there on the mesa. Well, the sheriff and I have been up a dozen times searching the place, trying to talk her into telling us where it is. She hasn't got the money. If she had it, she'd have left Coloma and gone someplace else to spend it. Either that or at least paid up the back taxes on the farm. Huh. I thought for sure Rose had that money. Rose? Yeah.

Steve Morrow's widow. You mean Lucy Morrow. Her name's Lucy. Oh? Well, I'm going to check into the hotel and freshen up a bit. And then what? Ride out and talk to Lucy Morrow. Morning, Mr. Randolph. Yes? Good afternoon, Mrs. Morrow. I'm Paladin. Did you think I could forget you, Mr. Paladin? No, I suppose not. I'd like to talk to you, if I may. I'm going to work on the Rose Garden.

You can talk there if you wish. Yes, I noticed them as I rode up. They're beautiful. They are. It's an eastern variety, Calinaris. Oh, must be rather difficult to grow them out here. Oh, it's worth the trouble to have one lovely thing here. They were a present from Steve. He brought me some cuttings after one of his trips back east. Why have you stayed on here? Simple. There's nowhere else to go and no money to go with.

Your husband took $30,000 from the Coloma Bank. It's never been found. This house was turned inside out. Do you think I'd be living here like this if I had $30,000? Perhaps not. I don't know anything about that money, Mr. Paladin. I don't mean to bother you, Mrs. Morrow. Why do you bother me then? You knew this before you came out here. I killed Steve. If it hadn't been me, it would have been somebody else somewhere else. He was an outlaw, a killer.

Suppose I wanted to come here and tell you that I'm not an executioner. I was bringing him in and he went for his gun. Doesn't feel good to kill a man. Not a bit good. I know you're not the kind to kill for the sake of another notch on your gun, but Steve was my husband. Please don't come back here again. Or if you have to, wait until I'm gone. You're leaving? Yes. They're auctioning the place for $276 back taxes. Oh, don't look so pained. I'll get along.

Maybe it'll be best. Get out of here, Paladin. Leave me alone, please. Good afternoon, Mrs. Morrow. I'm a mean little kid. And are you pleased with yourself? Sure, because I'm a germ. A bathroom germ. Bathrooms is where the meanest germs get to live. Do I have fun causing odor and spreading disease? Well, you better watch out, son, or your landlady may find out about Lysol brand disinfectant. Lysol?

Oh, Lysol. That's what I said. Lysol. Well, anyway, a lot of women are finding that a dash of Lysol in their cleaning suds every week wipes out nasty bathroom disease germs like you, disinfects from one cleaning to the next as no other product can, wipes out many deadly viruses, too. Lysol makes every cleaner work better. It's the easy, modern way to get bathrooms really clean and free of odors. Lysol can do that?

And what's more, now besides regular Lysol, there's a new sweet-smelling pine-scented Lysol. And they're both out to get you. Hey, were you ever a mean little kid? One more remark like that and I'll open this bottle of Lysol. The Griffin Ranch was the same as it had been. Old, solid, and well-kept. Run by a man who was old and solid and tough. A man who had lost one son by Steve Morrow's gun and had one son left.

A man who could not forget or forgive. Well, you look about the same, Paladin. Come on in. Set a spell. I'd just as soon sit out here in the fresh air, Mr. Griffin. Fine, fine. What brings you back to these parts? $30,000. Stolen money, eh? A lot of people like to get their hands on that.

You ought to have a pretty good idea where it might be. Why do you say that? Well, you were the last person to be with that murdering fool. The way I had it figured, Morrow had the money with him when you killed him. I hear you've been living pretty high on the hog up in San Francisco. Those are harsh words, Griffin. Oh, now, now, now. Don't get itchy. I was just only joshing.

You wouldn't be back here if you had it. Steve Morrow didn't have that money when I found him. And according to his wife, he didn't even have it when he left the farm. Oh? You talked to her? I just came from there. Takes a lot of nerve for a man to go up and talk to the wife of somebody he killed. Hey, you suppose Steve Morrow hid it on that farm of his? Mr. Randolph and the sheriff searched it. I know. I know.

Old Randolph's getting fidgety. A while back, he got the idea that Morrow buried the money up on the mesa. You never saw such digging and poking around. I swear the mesa's ten feet shorter on account of it. That farmer joins your property, doesn't he? Yeah.

On the south. Why? I hear it's up for auction. Should be worth at least a couple of thousand dollars to him. I'll get it for 276, the taxes. Someone will outbid you at that price. I don't reckon so, Paladin. Nobody else is going to bid on it. Those who can afford to bid on it don't have any use for that farm. Randolph might have use for it. Ah, that old pussyfoot. He wouldn't know how to plant potatoes. He might know how to dig for stolen money. Tell me something, Paladin.

You working for Randolph? Maybe. Maybe not. You are working for him. I might have known. You know, I just assume the money doesn't get back to the bank. Oh? I'd lose about $60,000 in holdings that belong to it. Those holdings will be mine come the first of the month. Oh, that's not a pretty way to talk, but at least it's the truth. I see. I see.

What happens to Randolph, then? Out. Out in the cold where he deserves to be. If I ran my ranch like he runs that bank, I'd have been out of business a long time ago. Well, getting close to sundown, I think I'll be heading back to town. Oh, Paladin, I hate to see a man like you working on the dark side of the fence. I thought you always roamed the green fields. Which are the green fields, Griffin? Mine are. By the way...

If you buy that farm just for the taxes, Steve Morrow's widow won't get a cent. Well, now, ain't that a downright shame? She didn't kill your son, Griffin. No, but her husband did. And all I hope is that his kin are gonna suffer on account of it. That's how I feel about Morrow and her. Come in. Paladin. Well, Mr. Randolph. You, uh, make it a habit, staying up this late? Mm-hmm.

I do my best thinking when the town's settled for the night. You've covered a lot of ground today. Getting discouraged? Did you come here to discourage me? There's a lot of territory between Coloma and the Mesa. Morrow could have hidden that money anywhere. Not without telling his wife. Now, since when does a killer stop to worry about his wife? Randolph, whatever you want to say about Morrow, he loved his wife. He'd have wanted to make sure she was provided for him. He even spoke about her when he was dying.

His last words were, Rose, tell her... Wait a minute. Tell her? What are you talking about? Randolph, that money's up there on the farm. You mean she does have it? She doesn't know it, but it's there. Where is it, then? Why, we've torn that place apart. You just didn't dig in the right spot. I'm going up there now and get your money. You wait here. It's one o'clock in the morning. And I'll be digging by two. Well?

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will change your ideas about luxury cars. Test our best, the Ambassador V8 by Rambler, finest car ever priced so close to the lowest. See, drive the luxurious Ambassador, now at Rambler dealers. When I dismounted at Lucy Morrow's, I thought I heard a horse nicker in a nearby clump of cottonwoods. I waited, but all was quiet except for the wind through the trees. Lucy Morrow was a light sleeper. She answered my second knock.

What do you want? Put the shotgun down, Mrs. Morrow. What are you doing here this time of night? The money. It's here on the farm. We've been through that before, Paladin. They've ripped my place apart. Every floorboard, every inch of this cabin, the yard's full of holes. You saw it this afternoon. I know, Mrs. Morrow, but... The money isn't here. Look...

This is my last night in the only home I ever had, and I don't mean to be bothered. Mrs. Morrow... Now get away from here before I blast that shirt right off your back. You wouldn't have to leave tomorrow if I find the money. I'm not wasting any more words with you. Mrs. Morrow, in your rose garden, is there a bush not doing well? Paladin, it's late and it's cold. Answer me, is there?

Well, yes, there is one, but what's that got to do with the money? Flowers need soil at their roots, Ms. Morrow, not gold. What? You get me a shovel, I'll show you what I mean. You know, it took me a while to figure out that a dying man wouldn't call his wife Rose. If her name was Lucy... Hold the lamp a little closer. I think we've got it. Now, yeah, this is it. The leather bag from the Coloma back. We'll open it. Yeah.

Gold coins. $30,000 worth. Here in the Rose Garden all the time. Drop that. Raise your hands. What? Come on. Do what I say. Good. Now just stand steady. All right, Cleet. Let's move in. Keep that light high, woman, so as we can see you both. Lucy. Yes? When I say the word, throw that lamp at them high, eye level, then hit the ground fast. I'll say when. All right.

Now. No more. Don't shoot again. Just stand easy, mister. You shot him. You shot my boy. I didn't have much choice. Cleet. Cleet, boy. You hurt bad. I'll be all right, Pa. I'll get you for this, Paladin. Don't try anything foolish, Mr. Griffin. You're already in enough trouble. I'm in trouble? Trying to hijack stolen money...

Trespassing, attempted murder. Paladin, Paladin, there's someone coming. Yeah, I heard him. I think it's Randolph. Randolph? He knew I was coming out here. He probably couldn't stand waiting in town. After all, the money belongs to his bank. Paladin! Paladin, you all right? Yes, we're all right. We're over here, Mr. Randolph. Well, what happened? What was all the shooting? Well, there was a little discussion as to who was going to get that bank's money.

I won. You mean you have the money? You found it, all of it? I think so, here. Oh, good. Good, that's it right enough. Now, in regards to my fee, Mr. Randolph... Yes? I want you to give it to Lucy. What? Lucy? I think the woman ought to be able to keep her home if she wants to. At the auction tomorrow, you can decide whether you want to stay or leave this charming town.

Thank you, Paladin. As for you, Griffin, get your boy back to your own ranch and bandage that leg of his. I don't think Lucy Morrow cares one way or the other what happens to you. Mr. Randolph wants to bring charges later. That's up to him. As for myself, I'm saying goodbye to Coloma for the last time.

Oh, you're back, Mr. Paladin. And ready to see the city bright and shining? Oh, best you go away two, three more days, maybe. Why should I? Her. Who? Her. Her lady over there. She very unhappy when you no take her to the opera.

Didn't you explain it was business? Oh, yes, sir. Important business? Yes, sir, but her business more important to her, I think, Mr. Paladin. She maybe kill you, huh? I hope not. Well, the best way is the direct way. Excuse me. Hmm? Oh. I hope you missed me. You did miss me. Oh.

I have no other cheek to turn. Then kindly turn yourself around and leave me alone. I can hardly do that. You see, I've thought of nothing and no one but you all this time. Really? Really. Am I to believe? You are to believe only that which will make you feel better and me feel better and both of us enjoy a lovely evening together. That to me would be a simple solution. So? Dinner? Well... Please?

You are a very convincing man. The current issue of TV Radio Mirror has a feature story on the man who portrays Paladin every Sunday night on CBS Radio, Mr. John Daner. Have gun. Will travel. Have gun.

Created by Herb Meadow and Sam Rolfe, is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald, and stars John Daner as Paladin, with Ben Wright as Hayboy. Tonight's story was written by Albert Alley, and adapted for radio by John Dawson. Featured in the cast were Vic Perrin, Eleanor Tannen, and Joseph Kearns. Hugh Douglas speaking. Join us again next week for Have Gun, Will Travel.

♪♪♪

Heads up, folks. Interest rates are falling. But as of September 23rd, 2024, you can still lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account at public.com. That's a pretty big deal because when rates drop, so can the interest you earn on your cash. A bond account allows you to lock in a 6% or higher yield with a diversified portfolio of high-yield and investment-grade corporate bonds.

So while other people are watching their returns shrink, you can sit back with regular interest payments. But you might want to act fast because your yield is not locked in until you invest. The good news, it only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account only at public.com.

Brought to you by Public Investing, member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info.

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♪♪♪

Listen up, folks. Time could be running out to lock in a historic yield at public.com. As of September 23rd, 2024, you can lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account. But here's the thing. The Federal Reserve just announced a big rate cut, and the plan is for more rate cuts this year and in 2025 as well. That's good news if you're looking to buy a home, but it might not be so good for the interest you earn on your cash.

So if you want to lock in a 6% or higher yield with a diversified portfolio of high yield and investment grade bonds, you might want to act fast. The good news, it only takes a couple of minutes to sign up at public.com. And once you lock in your yield, you can earn regular interest payments even as rates decline.

Lock in a 6% or higher yield with a bond account at public.com. But hurry, your yield is not locked in until you invest. Brought to you by Public Investing member FINRA and SIPC. Yield to worst is not guaranteed. Not an investment recommendation. All investing involves risk. Visit public.com slash disclosures for more info.

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The Mummers in the Little Theatre of the Air. Now, The Hermit. Ghost stories. Weird stories. And murders, too. The Hermit knows of them all. Turn out your lights. Turn them out.

Have you heard the story, Reflected Image, eh? Then listen while the hermit tells you the story. Ah!

Hey, Dan. Dan, you gotta wait. I can't go a step farther. Gotta keep going. Oh, this heat. This desert heat. I can't go on. Listen, Taylor. We keep going. We're bound to strike civilization before long. Don't be such a devil, Dan. I gotta rest. All right. Dan.

For a few minutes, then. Desert. Desert. I hate it. Walking for hours. Sun beating down. Stop it, Taylor. You can't go on that way. If you do, you'll go loco. Come on. Let me have a drink of water. We should wait till the sun goes down.

Do us more good, then. You are the devil, holding out on water. My tongue's like a bale of cotton. All right. You think I'm a devil, hold out or not? There isn't any more water. No more water? I drained the last one when we took that drink four or five hours ago. I don't believe it. Let me have the bottle. Here. No water. No more water. No more water.

No more water! Now, listen. It won't do no good to get panicky. Only make your thirst worse. Crying out like that just another day would bring us into a settlement. Lost. Our bones will bleach white here on the desert. Sit back and rest. It's getting cooler now. Dan, look. Look over there, atop that rise of sand. I'm looking. Dan?

Do you see her standing there? I see the dead stump of a tree. So do you. I see her. A beautiful woman. The breeze blow on her dress. So cool like... And Dan...

She's waving to us, beckoning us to come on. Taylor, where are you going? Come back here. Wait. I'm coming. I see you. Don't go away. I'll get up. Just wait, that's all. Wait. Follow me.

I'll take you to our cabin. Cabin? Water! There's a well near the cabin. Follow me. Dan! She's real! She's telling us to follow her! Dan, hurry! Follow me. Follow me to the cabin.

All the water that you wanted, Dan. Follow me. Dan! Dan! Taylor! Taylor, you've got to get a hold of yourself. I talked to her. There was a woman here. It was no dead tree. She said to follow her. That way, east, she said, to the cabin and water.

Dan, you gotta believe. You gotta try it. Help me up, Dan. Taylor, you're seeing things. No, you gotta try. She was here, and she said to follow her. I can't believe you saw anyone. It's worth trying, isn't it, Dan? I talked to her.

She said to walk this way. Come on. It's getting too dark to see, Taylor. We ought to... Oh, you're gonna try. Well... Come on. Where's the woman now? She went ahead. I saw her move this way. Hello? Hello? See? No one answers.

You didn't see any woman. We've got to keep walking this way, Dan. Oh, it's crazy. Cabin. Water. The woman said this way. There wasn't any woman. You've gone off your nut, Taylor. You don't stop this crazy stuff I'm going to leave you in the morning. Psych out for myself. Look. Look. Do you see? By all that's good...

A light. I told you. Cabin water, just as the woman said. You must have seen the woman, Taylor. I didn't believe... Come on, Dan. Hurry. We've struck real luck. Luck and water. Hello? Hello? We're coming. Hello? No one answers.

It ain't a light in the cabin, Taylor. It's a star we see. No. It ain't no star. It's a light in the cabin. Too big for a star. It is pretty big, Taylor. You're right. I can see the shack now. Sure. Come on. The cabin door is open. They've heard us. The woman is waiting for us. Ray, water. Water. Water.

Take it easy, partner. Don't drink too fast or too much at first. That's enough, Taylor, for now. Where's your outfit, Stenny? Lost it three days ago.

You ain't packing any guns? No, we haven't any. Then you're welcome to stay the night. It was mighty nice of your wife to tell us we were welcome here. What's that, Stanger? Your wife, or the woman that told us to follow her here to the cabin and water. Don't say to me what you mean. Funny thing. I could drink forever, but it don't seem to quench my thirst. Let me take the cup now. Oh, baby, baby, take it easy.

Like you said, too much ain't good all of a sudden. Strangers, what are you doing here in the desert? A storm overtook us four or five days ago. We didn't even have time to unpack the animals. And when the storm was over, horses, outfit, everything gone. I see. What was this about you seeing a woman who directed you here to my cabin? Uh, Taylor here, he thought he saw a woman waving to him.

A woman who said there was a cabin and a well of water near. I figured all the time he was seeing things. Sort of a reflected image on the desert sand. Yeah. Folks drifting in the insanity are always seeing things on the desert. Sure. I know it. Now, how far are we from the nearest settlement? The nearest settlement is about 35 miles due east ahead. Not as far as I thought. We can start out in the morning. Sure.

I'll give you directions. Fine, partner. Fine. You live here all alone? Yep. My name is Fred Holcroft. Well, uh, glad to meet you. I'm Dan Torrance. My partner, Taylor Wiley. You're welcome for the night. I'll rustle up some grub. And after eating, I'll tell you a desert story that'll put you a-seeing a woman on the desert in the small class, as stories go. Yes. Yes.

I'll tell you a real desert story. This story will tell you what horrible things the desert can do to folks. It was about three years ago that me and my partner got together all our possessions. We sold them for all the property we could get... ...and bought stuff to start out on a prospecting trip. For a while, we didn't strike enough gold or make expenses...

Then one morning, Ab and me made a walloping strike and I tailored to town with our sabers.

What's all the shooting about? Me and I just come from the assay in office, that's what. Go on, what's the news? We stuck it, boys. We stuck it rich. You hear that? All across the air, we struck it. I say we stuck it. No more grubbing for us. We're in the money, boys. We're in. We're in.

Yep, we was rich. The first thing I did was to send back to the settlement for my girl to come out to me. Ab helped me get ready for her. We built this here cabin. Of course, it's no mansion, but it's a sight better than most desert shanties. Well, Lila came out, and we was married in El Toro, and then came back here to the cabin. Lila, she brought things along to pretty up the place.

curtains and such. We was real happy. Ab, Lila and me and the ghoul was still coming in. Night times, Lila and me would make plans as to how we were going to the big cities and live like king and queen. Then one morning, I comes into the cabin. Lila was sitting in that chair where you are sitting now, stranger. And Ab was standing there by the table. I could sense right away that something was up there.

I says, supper on, Lila? No. Time for grub, ain't it? Maybe so. Go on, Lila. Tell him. Tell me what? Lila don't want to stay here with you anymore, Fred. I reckon Lila's able to talk for herself, Ed. What's this Ab is telling me, Lila? Ed's got it right, Fred. I hate it out here.

And you won't give up and say we got enough to move on. Well, now... Let me do the talking. I can't stand it here in the desert. Not any longer. I'll go crazy if I have to be here another day. But I... Go on. Tell him all of it, Lila. It ain't only the desert you don't like. It's him. Lila's in love with me. Is this true? Lila, tell me. Is it the truth what I've been saying? Yes. There you have you, desert rat. I'll break every bone in your body. Now take it easy.

You won't touch me so long as I got the draw on you. Fight like a man, you yellow-livered skunk. Put down that gun and fight like a man. Don't listen to him. Don't you lay a hand on Ab, Fred. I ain't afraid to fight him. There's my gun on the table. Now,

Now, come on ahead. Yeah. Or you. Don't kill him. That's what I aim to do. Kill him. No. You'll never walk out of here. Your poison like a snake. I give up. No, no. I'll get out.

Can't have through with him. He'll crawl on your head, your knees. No, don't! Stop it! You winged me. I meant to kill you, you skunk. I can still fight this rat with one arm. No, Fred! No, don't! No, don't! I give up! No! Fred!

Ab. Ab, speak to me. You killed him. You killed Ab. You can't kill a skunk like him. No.

He's not breathing. Look. His head's all smashed from hitting the table. Alvin. Alvin, speak to me. Let me see him. He's dead. You killed a man, Fred Elcroft. Alvin. Alvin. Alvin. You're to blame for this, Lally. You're to blame for it all. And no good woman. You tried to kill me. Alvin.

For all your sins you'll pay. You'll start paying right now. But... But I tell the sheriff about you being a murderer? You ain't going to tell the sheriff or nobody else what's happened in this cabin. You're going to do just what I tell you to do. And no more. No more.

Three men on the desert in an old cabin. Two listen intently as an old man tells them a strange story of murder. The woman who beckoned them to the cabin that night. Where is she? He?

The hermit will tell you before the night is done. And now, the hermit again. Fred Holcroft continues to narrate his strange desert story to the two men who were led to his cabin by a woman. Listen.

Well, see, we buried her that night. What do you mean, we? Lila Neve, the woman who had betrayed me. I made her handle the shovel. I can remember as well as I remember today. She was sovereign and carrying on. But I kept her shoveling.

Keep shoveling. Cover up the man you love. Make him a good deep grave. Don't look to me for mercy. Keep digging. You love me, what it's meant. You gotta have mercy. I don't recollect you having no mercy for me. I hope he can still feel things while he's there in the sand. I don't know.

Yeah. I hope the sand chokes him. Burns out his eyes. Get up on your feet. He's buried deep enough now. And you listen to what I'm telling you. If anybody comes this way, we don't know what happened to Abby. You hear? We don't know nothing. No.

I can tell by the look in your eyes that you figure I was mighty cruel to Lila. But you got to remember, she had played me dirt. And what's more, she had tried to murder me to save that skunk of a man. I couldn't forget that. I didn't forget it. Every hour, I made her suffer for her sins.

I made her work the mine with me. Made her stand out in the blinding storms. In the heat of the sun till her skin was burned black and her eyes all puffed and faded out. Till her beauty was gone forever. Well, at least for me, I was sorting away the gold. Burying it right underneath this cabin floor. Fighting my time. And waiting till I had enough gold to buy whatever I wanted from this life. Then, Lila...

She took down with a fever. One night when the moon was riding high... and the sky bright as daylight on the desert sands... she got up from her bed. I tried to stop her. Don't touch me. I'm going away. You're sick, Lila. You can't leave the cabin. I'm going to Ab. To Ab, is it? Ain't you suffering enough for your sins? Yes.

You still got to mention his name? Let go of me, Fred. I got to find out. Go to bed. And never come back to this cabin. Never come back. I stood at the door of this cabin watching her staggered away in the moonlight night. I'd never searched for her body. Her bones are bleached white by now from the sun. As for me, well, I always figured on moving on.

but the sun and the desert scorching sands and the wild winds blown all of it so they got into my blood and i've stayed on here hoarding my gold but one of these days i'll be pulling out for the city and the lights the music all the rich things money can buy i don't understand it why are you telling all this to us two strangers

How do you know we won't report you as a murderer? I don't likely know why I'm talking. Unless it's that the loneliness in the desert has got me. You let the woman wander off into the desert to die? I told you just as it happened. Don't you understand, stranger? That woman didn't die. It was her we saw tonight. Her that beckoned us into this cabin. She never died at all. Taylor, you never saw any woman. You said the dead stump of a tree. You thought it was someone moving. She talked to me, I tell you.

What was that? Don't you know? It's her. Look. Look out the window. Lila. That's the woman who beckoned to Dan and me. She's standing out there at the window. No. She died there, Tuta. I never died, Fred. Never died. I've come for you. Don't let her in this cabin. Look. Look.

She walked right through the door. It can't be her. Look closely, Fred. I've come to finish up what I should have done years ago. Stop it. Don't let her do that again. I've got it now, Fred. This time I'll do more than wing you. She... She got me. She got me. Grab him, Taylor. Look at the blood. I'm dying. I...

He's done for. And the woman? She's disappeared through that door just like she came in. She's gone. And you and I, Taylor, we're going to be accused of this murder. We're telling the story straight, mister. You've got to go out there and get his body. And you've got to believe it. Just as we told you. The woman killed him and vanished. We're not guilty. Sit down, stranger. Take it easy.

What did you say the old guy's name was? Fred Holcroft, he told us. Old Fred, eh? Who

Who struck it rich or thought he did? That's him. He's lying there in the cabin now with a bullet through his heart. I guess you two were really touched by the sun. You got to go out to the cabin with us and see for yourself. Listen, stranger. You ain't going to get anybody in Artura to go out to that desert shack to look for the body of Fred Holcroft. What do you mean? We mean there ain't no sense in looking for the body of him that's been dead for 20 years.

I don't get it. Fred Holcroft's been dead for 19 or 20 years. I went out there at the time, recollected well. I was in the party that went out there, too. Sure. Found his body and that of his wife's. Both stretched out on the floor of the cabin. Died of the fever, I reckon.

Why, there ain't any cabin out there anymore. Blown away long ago by the wind. Yes, sirree. You two have really been seeing things. But you ain't the first ones that have come out of the desert... ...telling about seeing a woman standing out there in the sands... ...beckoning them to the cabin in a waterhole. Just a few months ago, a guy comes in here... ...babbling about a woman who led him to a waterhole. But ain't none of them ever been so touched before... ...that they saw the old man or the cabin...

or had a vision of a murder. Did anyone ever find old Holcroft's gold? No, nor his partner neither. Some folks reckoned he left Fred and his wife there to die and took the gold for himself. Listen then, it may be we saw a vision, but you come out there with us to the spot where the cabin did stand. Maybe we can prove to you that the story we heard last night was true.

Here's where we stopped. But you can see there ain't any cabin. You said the gold was buried underneath the cabin floor. That would be about here. All right, for the heck of it, let's start digging. Come on. Come on.

Gold. By cracky gold. Just as we told you. Just as he told it to us. Visions, huh? Visions on a desert. But it was more than our being touched by the sun. We saw spirits of the dead. We saw them and heard them. And we've found the gold that brought about evil and murder. Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! woo! woo

A reflected image of the desert. And yet it was not of the mind alone, but rather a ghostly vision of the past. Spirits that could not rest in their graves of sand. Ghostly visions returning to us to walk the desert on moonlight nights. To speak to the living.

to relate over and over the stories of their sin and murder. Yes. Turn on your lights. Turn them on. I'll be back. Pleasant dreams. I'll be back.

All characters, places, and occurrences mentioned in the Hermit's Cave are fictitious and similarity to persons, places, or occurrences is purely accidental.

Thanks for listening! If you like what you heard, be sure to subscribe so you don't miss future episodes. If you like the show, please, share it with someone you know who loves old-time radio or the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do. You can email me and follow me on social media through the Weird Darkness website,

WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can listen to free audiobooks I've narrated, get the email newsletter, visit the store for creepy and cool Weird Darkness merchandise. You can find other podcasts that I host. Plus, it's where you can find the Hope in the Darkness page if you or someone you know is struggling with depression, addiction, or thoughts of harming yourself or others. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.

I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me for this episode of Weird Darkness' Retro Radio.

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