Do You Dare Enter “THE HOUSE THAT TIME FORGOT?” | Ten #RetroRadio Stories! EP0279 #WeirdDarkness
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Only at Raley's in Nob Hill.

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Present, Suspense! I am the Whistler.

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 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. Come in.

Welcome. I'm E.G. Marshall. I'm happy you could join us. I must tell you something about myself, which perhaps you already know. Now and then, I succumb to a temptation which is as futile as it is irresistible. I ask for an answer to a question to which there is no answer, never has been, and may never be.

Yet the question stands and stays, patiently awaiting the answer that will let it retire. So now, I ask you, what is truth? We shall look for an answer in this story. You expect me to believe you? Well, why shouldn't you believe me, Mother? It's the truth. Well, I'm sure you think it's the truth. It is. I don't happen to agree. Well, I don't know what I can do about that. Tell the truth. No!

Our mystery drama, Guilty, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Elspeth Erick and stars Jack Grimes and Ann Petoniak. It is sponsored in part by the Buick Motor Division. I'll be back shortly with Act One. Kenneth Case is 39 years old. He lives in his mother's house on one of the tree-shaded streets of a pleasant suburb.

and he teaches philosophy at the State University. He's not handsome, but he has a genial look about him. He's not brilliant, but neither is he stupid. And most people enjoy his company. His means are modest, but so are his wants. And he has tenure in his job. The life of Kenneth Case has been placid and fairly free of stress until this moment. All right, hands at your sides and look straight ahead.

Take your time. Please. Please keep your voice down. I don't know him anywhere. Mother? Mother? I'll be right down, Kenny. Okay, take your time. I'm going to make myself a drink. I meant to be at the station house, but... That's all right. I had to finish up with the lawyers. It's not so easy to take out a second mortgage. I never thought I'd have to... You will make out all right? Well, of course. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. Well, that's right.

I don't suppose you made a drink for me. I'm sorry. I didn't know you wanted... That's all right. I'll make it myself. I need one as much as you do. I doubt that. Well, almost. Isn't $15,000 kind of a high bail? Well, I have no idea. Well, it seems awfully high to me. They know you're not going to run off someplace. I've never known how they decide what bail to set. I've never thought too much about it. I never thought it would concern me.

Even now, I can't believe it has anything to do with me. You want a little snack or something to go with your drink? No, no, no, no, thanks. It was that woman's identification that did it. Oh, I don't mean the identification. I stopped believing any of it long before they put me in the lineup. By the time I'd gotten that far, I was starting to think the whole thing was a joke. A joke? A comedy of errors. Well, it is.

You know, that detective showed up. I just thought he was, well, you know, just here to ask questions. Did I know Mrs. Malloy? Had I seen her that day? Et cetera, et cetera. When he said, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me, Mr. Case, I think I laughed. I don't remember exactly, but I actually think I laughed. That's when it started to be unreal. Something out of another world, another life. Not my world, not my life. You know, I think when she screamed out,

That's him. I don't think I really laughed out loud, but I wanted to. Inside, I could feel a little kind of giggle. Oh, I hope you didn't actually laugh. Now, what's the difference? The whole thing is a craziness. This woman, this total stranger, says a man five feet nine with a blonde mustache and a black briefcase knocked at my door. When I opened it, he grabbed me by the neck and he tried to choke me.

After that, he knocked me down and raped me. He took my jewelry and he ran. I read it all in the paper. No particular reason, except that I know the house she lives in. I pass it every day on my way to the university and again on my way home. That gave me some kind of special interest, I guess, just knowing the house. But then I forgot about it. Completely forgot till Detective Stein showed up and...

Well, you know. The woman's crazy. No, she isn't necessarily crazy. She's just mistaken. She's crazy. She said from the start the man was about 40. Blonde mustache, brown suit. Or a liar. Then she sees me. Blonde mustache, brown suit, about 40, and she says, that's my man. She wasn't necessarily lying.

In fact, I'm sure she thinks she was telling the truth. If only she wasn't. She made a mistake. She was wrong. They'll find out she's lying. Not lying. Just wrong. Whatever. I saw her a couple of times. You did? Don't tell them that. Yeah, on my way to work. She was on the porch. I never even spoke to her. There was no reason to. What does she look like? Oh, about your age, I guess. Is she pretty? Yeah, I don't know. Nice looking. There is, I remember, hair cut short...

Yeah, I remember that because you just had yours cut short, so I sort of noticed. Well, what I can't figure out is why you. What does she have against you? She made a mistake, that's all. She lied. No, no, she didn't. Well, she certainly didn't tell the truth. Yeah, she certainly didn't. Only how am I going to prove that? Make her take a lie detector test. A what? A lie detector test. Why not? Well, she believes she's telling the truth. Only I know she isn't.

Mother, I think you've given me an idea. I have. I'm going down to the station house. I can just make it if I hurry. What for? I want to talk to Lieutenant Stein. Come in. Oh, come in, Mr. Case. Lieutenant. Didn't expect you back so soon. No, I guess you didn't. Well, sit down, sit down. Thanks, sir.

Now, what can we do for you? I want to take a lie detector test. That identification by Mrs. Malloy shook me up, Lieutenant. Mm-hmm. She sounded so positive, and she's so wrong. Lie detector readings are not admissible in court, you know that? Yeah, yes, I know that. It's about the only thing I do know about them. But it's hanging over my head, this thing. I don't mind telling you. It's not pleasant. I don't imagine it is.

I may have to go through a trial. You will? Unless you find out who really did it before then. Well, we're still looking. Well, that's good. But in the meantime, even if it doesn't help me in court, if it comes to that, it would help me to prove my innocence. Who do you think you're proving it to? I don't know exactly. To myself? That's silly. I already know.

To you, maybe. I'd like to feel you're on my side. I'm on nobody's side. I'm just a detective. Yeah, but let's just say I'd like to take the test. Well, if you want to. I do. Janet, get me Dr. Knapp at the hospital, will you? Thanks. A doctor, huh? Why do no doctors run these things? Well, any qualified person can do it.

Dr. Knapp happens to be the polygrapher we use when there's any occasion, which isn't too often. Oh, I'm sort of looking forward to it. Yeah. Oh, Dr. Knapp, thank you. This is Lieutenant Stein. Can you run a polygraph for me? Well, any time, I guess. Hold on, please. You in a hurry, Mr. Case? Well, yes. Soon as possible, Doctor. This afternoon, 4.30. Fine, fine. See you, Doc. All set. 4.30? Right. 4.30.

Where do I go? To the hospital or where? How about right here? Is that possible? Easiest thing in the world. Well, all right then. Fine, I'll go home and tell my mother and I'll come back here at 4.30. Gee whiz. What's the matter? Nothing's the matter. I just didn't know it would be so simple. Look, would you be here later when I come back? Oh, sure, I'll be here. I have to give the doctor the list of questions.

Oh, you make up the questions, not the doctor. I'm the only one who knows what to ask. Yes, of course, you're right. The doctor doesn't know me at all. Thank you, Lieutenant, for everything. Not at all. I'll see you at 4.30. Right. You know, I'm beginning to feel better. It's a question of doing something, I guess, not just sitting and waiting. I'll see you later, Lieutenant. All right.

Am I early? Just a couple of minutes. How are you, Mr. Case? Well, all right, I think. I'm kind of looking forward to this. I guess because I know I'm not guilty of anything. It'd be nice if everybody believed me, but they don't. So I guess I want a machine to sort of stick up for me. Crazy. Oh, I don't know. Is that it? The polygraph? Yeah, that's it.

Small, isn't it? How big did you expect it to be? I don't know what I expected. I don't even know what I expect now. I just know I didn't do anything wrong. I know, I know. That must be the doctor. Hi, Doc. Hello, Lieutenant. This is Mr. Case. Dr. Knapp, Dr. Knapp, Mr. Case. Mr. Case? Hello. I was just saying, Lieutenant, here, that I wasn't sure what I expected from this test. And one of the things I didn't expect was that

You'd be a woman. I'm also a qualified polygrapher. Well, I didn't mean life is full of surprises. Are we ready? Okay to start, Mr. Case? Oh, sure, yeah, sure. If you'll be so good as to step over here, Mr. Case. All right. Now, this is the machine. Yeah, the lieutenant told me. That's your chair, this is my chair. Mm-hmm. Will you please remove your jacket and take your place in the chair? Yeah, sure, sure. Sit down, Mr. Case. Okay. Relax. That's better. Okay.

May I have your right hand, please? Right hand? Uh, sure. This is nothing but an abrasive saw that I'm rubbing into your palm. Similar to those used for making contact in electrocardiograms. Uh-huh. Now, I'm going to fasten the disc. Tell me if it's too tight. No, it's okay. Your left arm now, please. All right. This is a rubber sleeve I'm putting around your bicep, much like the one used for taking blood pressure. Too tight? Uh...

Maybe a little. There. Ready? Yeah, yes. Yes, thanks. This thing that looks like a rubber accordion, it goes around your chest. Will you lean forward a little, please? All right. There. That's all. Are you comfortable, Mr. Case? Yeah, I'm fine. Well, you're now connected to the machine, and the machine is connected to you. Mm-hmm. The disc in your palm registers pulse beat.

The band in your arm, pressure of blood. Right. The band around your chest measures your breathing. That's all there is to the machine. Simple, isn't it? Yes. Will it also make coffee? Not this model. You have the questions, Lieutenant? Yeah, right here. These are the questions I'm going to ask you. Each question has its corresponding number on the tape. They're synchronized. If there should be a long silence at any time, don't worry. I'm only waiting for the next number to come up.

You answer with yes or no. What? The questions are designed to be answered that way. Understand? No. Mr. Case... What kind of a game are you trying to run on me? A game. Well, there's hardly a question in the world that can be answered yes or no. Mr. Case, you're disturbing the wires. Any question worth asking can't be answered yes or no. Mr. Case, you asked for this test. I know I did. The polygraph has to have yes or no answers or it won't work at all. Believe me.

Okay, I believe you. Now, try not to move, please. And answer the questions in a low and uniform tone of voice. Ready? I'm ready. Is your name Kenneth Case? Yes. Were you born in the United States? Yes. Are you married? No. Are you a professor of philosophy? Men and machines. Machines and men.

If our age is distinguished by anything, it is man's devotion to the machine. There is almost nothing we have not invented a machine to do for us. From washing our clothes to killing our enemies, we worship the machine. It has taken over our lives. The day may come

when it will take over us. And in simple self-defense, we will turn ourselves into machines. I'll be back shortly with Act Two. Kenneth Case, age 39, professor of philosophy at the State University, lives with his mother in a suburban town.

The tenor of his life was interrupted when he was taken into custody on suspicion of assault, rape, and robbery. The victim was a Mrs. Malloy who stridently identified Kenneth Case as a criminal. At his own request, he has been granted a lie detector test, and the test is in progress. Do you have a dark blue suit in your wardrobe? Yes. Yes.

Do you have a brown suit in your wardrobe? Yes. Have you ever heard of a woman named Frances Malloy? Yes. Have you ever spoken with Mrs. Malloy? No. Do you shave with an electric razor? No.

Are you aware that Mrs. Malloy was assaulted in her home? Yes. Are you married? No. Do you pass by Mrs. Malloy's home on your way to work? Yes. Do you pass Mrs. Malloy's house on your way home from work? Yes. Did you see Mrs. Malloy on Monday evening, June the 3rd? No. Did you see her on the morning of June the 4th? No. Have you ever thought of starting a conversation with Mrs. Malloy? Yes. Have you ever started such a conversation? No.

No. Do you live at number 114 Forest Avenue? Yes. Does your mother also live at this address? Yes. Do you have a checking account? No. Do you have a savings account? Yes. Is it a joint account with your mother? No. On June 3rd, did you assault Mrs. Malloy? No. Please, Mr. Case, I asked you not to move and to keep your replies as close to a monotone as possible. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm going to have to adjust the machine. Glass of water, Mr. Case? Oh, yeah. Thank you. Ready? Yeah, ready. Do you own a radio? Yes. Do you own a record player? Mother? Mother? I'll be right down, Kenny. I'm going to make myself a drink. You want one? Please. Well, how was it? Not too bad. You mean it?

Well, at first, it wasn't quite what I expected. To start with, the polygrapher, which is what they call people who give these tests, turned out to be a lady doctor. A lady? Well, she works at the county hospital. Polygraphs are sort of an outside activity, I gather. Did she tell you that? Well, no, I just guessed. How old? What? How old is the lady doctor?

I don't know. Around my age, I guess. Maybe younger. I didn't get around to asking the rage. Now, don't be sarcastic, Kenny. Dorothy called while you were down there. Oh, what'd she want? Just to know how you were and how you're bearing up, etc. She want me to call her back? Well, I can't remember if she said to call her back or if she didn't. I'll call her back anyway. Finish your drink first. Yeah. Are you serious about Dorothy? Yes.

Well, I like Dorothy. You know that. Well, of course I know that. I asked you, are you serious? I don't think I'm serious about Dorothy. Does she know that? I think so. You just think so? I know so. You've told her? Don't worry, Mother. She knows. I wasn't worried. Why don't you call her back? She sounded genuinely worried. I think I'll have another drink first. I think I will, too. Okay. Ah!

You know, Kenny... I'm glad you're not serious about Dorothy. Well, you are. Well, she's too young for you. Here's your drink. Thank you, honey. I don't need your permission to get married, you know. Well, whoever said you did?

Well, the way you talk. Well, it doesn't hurt to talk about it, does it? I mean, you've waited this long to get married. I should think you'd want to be sure it's the right girl. I do? Well, all right, then. Now, take that girl you met on the Caribbean cruise. You almost married her. No, I didn't. Oh, yes, you did. I remember it very well. What was her name? She had a long, skinny face, looked like a horse. Christine. Now, that would have been a mistake to marry her. Now, you know that.

There was something not really feminine about that girl, that Christine, don't you think? Oh, I thought she was very feminine. Well, it's a matter of opinion, I guess. Anyway, it didn't take you long to get rid of her. Look, Mother, I was feeling pretty good when I came home. Now I'm starting to feel lousy. Can't we talk about something besides my old girlfriends? Well, what do you want to talk about?

I don't know, anything. Why don't you call up Dorothy? Later. I'll call her later. I like Dorothy. Well, I never knew that. Well, I think she's very nice and attractive looking. Don't you think? Well, I guess so. It's not like that awful, um... What's her name that you were so gone on last year? What awful what's-her-name? You know the one, that fat blonde, that divorcee? Myra Stanton? That's the one, Myra. She was years older than you.

She was exactly my age. She was. Well, she looked years older. And fat. Now, Dorothy isn't fat. All right. We've established that much. Dorothy isn't fat. Now, can we go on and talk about something else? Like, what's for dinner? Leftovers. Oh. Maybe we should go out. What for? I don't know. I feel like... I don't know. Sort of celebrating. Celebrating what? What?

Well, it may sound silly, but celebrating my lie detector test. What kind of a thing is that to celebrate? Taking a lie detector test like a common criminal. Do you want to go out for dinner or don't you? No, I don't. I went to a lot of trouble to dress up those leftovers and I want to eat home. Okay, maybe I'll see if Dorothy wants to have dinner with me. Honey, don't do that. I'll go out for dinner. I didn't realize it meant that much to you. Well, for some crazy reason, it does. Look.

I'll go up and change, and it won't take a minute. Okay. You make yourself another drink, and I'll be right down. Okay, okay. I'll wear my blue lace. I'll get it. Yes, hello. He's there. This is Mr. Case. Mr. Case, Lieutenant. Oh, yeah, yeah, Lieutenant. I thought you might be worried about the... Well, I'm interested, naturally. I'm not sure I ought to be doing this, but I figured... That's right. And for this, Mr. Case...

For what? What are you talking about? Dr. Knapp just handed me the analysis. I'm sorry to have to tell you. Tell me what? The analysis seems to indicate... That I'm what? That's impossible. That's what the analysis says. It's simply impossible. I thought I'd tell you. Thank you. Holographs aren't admissible. I'm all ready. How do I look? Was that Dorothy on the phone? It was Lieutenant Stein. What does he want?

He wanted to give me the result of the polygraph. Oh? The machine says I'm guilty. But I didn't do it, the man cries out. Even as a little boy, he must have cried out to his mother or his father. I didn't do it. Parents are ready to be persuaded or convinced. But what can the man expect from the machine? The silent, implacable machine. I'll be back shortly with Act Three.

Kenneth Case, under suspicion of assault, rape, and robbery, has asked and been allowed to take a lie detector test. Knowing his own innocence, he has returned to the house he shares with his mother, only to receive a phone call from Lieutenant Stein informing him that an analysis of the test results indicate he is guilty.

This information Kenneth Case has just passed on to his mother. The lie detector says you're guilty. How can that be? I don't know. It seems after they've asked all their questions and your answers have made marks on a chart, blood pressure, heartbeat, respiration, they take this chart and they analyze it. And this chart, those little marks, make out that you're guilty? So it seems. Well, how can that be?

Mother, I don't know. You were the one asked to take the test and paid to take it. Would you do that if you were guilty? Maybe they figure I thought I was good enough for a liar to get away with it. Well, why did you ever ask to take it? Because I wanted to clear myself, Mother. But they don't allow those things in court, you said. I know that, but I... Look, Mother, let's not get into all that now. Do you mind? They trapped you. No, they didn't. Why would they? Well, the doctor trapped you. That lady doctor. It was a perfectly legitimate test. Well, then why did you...

I don't know. Now let's just drop the subject. I don't suppose we'll be going out to dinner. No, I don't suppose we will. Well, I guess I'll go upstairs and take this dress off. Yeah, you do that. I'll be down shortly and heat up those leftovers. Okay? Okay. Now, Kenny, try not to brood about this thing, will you? Yeah, I'll try. It's filled milk, that's all.

They can't use the test against you in court. Not that I think you'll ever have to go to court. Mother, mother, go up and change your dress, son. Okay. I won't be more than a couple of minutes. Take your time. I'm not hungry. Kitty? Get that, will you? Yeah. All right.

Mr. Case? What? It's Dr. Knapp, isn't it? Yes. Did Detective Stein call you? Yeah, a few minutes ago. Oh, he said he was going to. Yeah, well, he did. I imagine you're upset. You would imagine, rightly. Mr. Case, may I come in and talk to you? What about? The test. What's there to say? Well, quite a lot, really. Anyway, I have a lot to say.

Please, let me come in. Okay, come on in. Thank you. This is very unprofessional, what I'm doing. Oh, is it? It's absolutely forbidden to contact anyone we've given the test to. I've never done it before, and I won't be doing it again. Look, I was just about to make myself a drink. May I make you one, Dr. Nani? No, I don't care for a drink, thank you.

Well, I guess I won't have one either. You were saying you aren't supposed to contact people you give the test to. I said I'm not supposed to. I never have, and I won't be doing it again because I'm giving the whole thing up. Oh? After I got my M.D., I decided to do some more studying to become an analyst. A psychoanalyst? Yes. It meant a lot more schooling.

And there's my training analysis to pay for. I was a little short of money. By that, I mean I didn't have any. So one of the things I did to get my hands on some was to learn how to give lie detector tests. The more I learned through psychoanalysis, the less I liked lie detector tests. Oh, why is that? I suppose you know what unconscious guilt is, or do you?

I can't say that I do. I know people are always saying you know something unconsciously. I have heard people say that. I guess that means that you know something, but you don't know that you know it or something. People do say that.

And they are profoundly wrong. Huh? It's not possible to know something unconsciously because knowing is a property of the conscious mind. Yeah, well... It's impossible to know anything unconsciously. As soon as you know it, it's conscious. Are you with me? I can't really say I am. But it's possible to feel unconscious guilt. In fact, most of the guilt we feel is unconscious. What we feel consciously is more like...

uneasiness. You sure you don't want a drink? No, thank you. Yeah, I think I do. It's a kind of pervasive discomfort. It accounts for a lot of our feelings of inadequacy, inferiority, and so on. Cheers. Oh, dear, I've done it again. Done what? Tried to explain something to someone who wasn't ready to listen. I was listening. Yes, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

It was very wrong of me. I'm sure you were just trying to help me out. I'm afraid I haven't succeeded. Well, it was nice of you to try. I'd hope to explain to you how unconscious guilt can and does affect us all. It's all beyond me. I'm sorry. I'd better be going.

Look, if you're still upset about the polygraph... Oh, I'll get over it. Yes, but if you should want to talk some more about it... I'm hoping they'll catch the real criminal pretty soon. Lieutenant Stein says they're still looking. In the meantime, if you want to talk to me, call me at the county hospital. Anytime. Will you? Oh...

I didn't know we had company. Mother, this is Dr. Knapp. Mrs. Kate. Dr. Knapp gave me the test. She dropped around. You're responsible for the whole thing. Oh, no. Doctor, you'd better go. Oh, I don't want to. Do you know what you've done to my boy? Come on. Try to explain to her, will you? I will. I will. And call me if you want to talk. I will. And thanks very, very much.

You didn't have to be so rude, Mother. Oh, she had some nerve coming here. She was trying to be helpful. She did the damage. Now she wants to help. You didn't eat very much. I'm not hungry. Where are you going? I'm going to call Dr. Knapp. The woman who was here? Well, she said I could if I wanted to. The woman who gave you the test? That's right, that's right.

Ah, here's the number. The woman who ruined you. Oh, mother, please. Well, she did. In the first place, I'm not ruined. In the second place... Oh, forget it. County Hospital?

Yeah, I wonder if I might speak with Dr. Knapp, please. She said I could reach her there. She gave you her number? Yes, thank you. Thank you. Well, what did she do that for? She said if I wanted to talk to her, I could. Dr. Knapp here. Oh, Dr. Knapp, this is Kenneth Case from this afternoon. Oh, yes. You said I could call you if I wanted to talk to you, and I do want to, so I'm calling you. You want to talk now? Not on the phone. Okay.

Can you come to the hospital? Yes, yes, I can. You have a car? Well, my mother does. I can borrow it. Well, go to the admissions desk on the main floor, and they'll put it there. Thanks very much. I'll be there in, uh, 20 minutes or so. Fine. I'll see you. Mother, uh, okay to borrow the car? You're not actually going to drive clear across town to see that woman. Yes, I actually am.

Where are the car keys? I swear she's got some kind of hold over you. Come on, where are the car keys? I am not going to give you the keys. I am not going to have you running off to that woman. Mother... The woman who ruined you. I just want to talk to her. Stay here, talk to me. Why do you want to talk to her? Because she understands about lie detector tests. She certainly does. She knows just how to make them come out. Look, Mother, it's not like that, please. Now, give me the keys. No, I will not.

You are not going to talk to that woman. You mean you won't let me take the car? No, I will not. I don't believe it. You're always running off to some woman. The minute anything happens, you're off somewhere to be with some woman. Mother, you don't know what you're saying. Yes, I do. It's been one woman after another all your life. Dorothy, Myrtle, Christine, and Myra, and...

And I can't remember all their names. Mother, give me the car keys. Now it's this woman doctor. How long will she last? A few months, then it'll be somebody else. You're like an animal, always sniffing around. You're disgusting. You disgust me. Give me those keys. I'm asking you for the last time. I'm not going to give you any keys of mine so you can go sniffing around that lady doctor. No, sirree. All right, I'll take a cab. No, you won't. You won't take any cab.

Not while I'm alive, you won't. Get away from that door, Mother. I'll stand here till hell freezes over before I let you go rushing off to that woman. Mother, get away from the door. Never, never. I'm never going to let you be an animal anymore. Mother! Stop it, damn it. You stop it. You hear me? You stop it.

Oh, Lord. Mother. Oh, God. I'm sorry. I'm terribly sorry. Mother. I'm sorry, Mother. How could you? Are you all right? I think so. Come on. Sit down over here. Come on. Would you rather lie down? You go on and see your doctor, friend.

Keys to the car are in my purse. No, I'm not... I'm not gonna leave you. I'll... I'll phone her and tell her I can't make it. Do you want a doctor? No, honey. I don't want anything. Yeah, well... Hello. Could you locate Dr. Marion Knapp for me? Maybe... Maybe you should keep your appointment. That's not important. What do you want to see her for? She told me some things when she was here and I wanted... Dr. Knapp?

Dr. Knapp, this is Kenneth Case. Oh, yes. I won't be able to get over to the hospital. Something happened? Yes, something happened. Quite a lot. Are you all right, Mr. Case? I think so. I mean, yes, I'm all right. Maybe I'll call you in the morning. Would that be all right with you? Of course it would. I'm not sure. My mother's... I mean, I can't be absolutely definite about it. You don't have...

Thank you. I'll call you in the morning, Dr. Knapp. I'll count on hearing from you. Yes. Counting on hearing from you. I won't forget. Goodbye, Doctor. Did you reach her? I just got through talking to her. Kenny, I told you, if you want to take the car, the keys are in the... No, no, no, no, no. I wouldn't leave you now. Oh, that's very sweet of you. You're a good boy. After what I did...

I said some awful things to you, Kenny. Yes, you did. But I didn't mean them. I was upset. What were you upset about? Well, you know, everything. Mother, you were upset about my going to see a woman. If Dr. Knapp had been a man...

Mother, I was going to talk to the doctor about something she told me this afternoon. I didn't listen too hard and I didn't understand most of it. Well, who could understand that psychological mumbo-jumbo? Well, I thought I'd like to try. She said something about unconscious guilt. How we carry it around with us and don't even know it. That's about all I remember, but she connected it up to why the lie detector test turned out the way it did. And I wanted her to try and sort it out for me.

Why don't you go over there now? I'll call her in the morning. I'll see her tomorrow. Who could that be at the door? Maybe I'd better find out. Yes, honey, you better. Lieutenant Stein, what are you doing here? I guess you're a little surprised to see me, huh? Yeah, well, yes. Well, Dr. Knapp called me. She said she'd talked to you on the phone and she didn't like the way you sounded.

So I thought I'd come over. Well, that was very nice of you. Very nice. I appreciate it. Dr. Knapp thinks a lot of you. I think you're all right, too. Thank you. On to the circumstance. Holograph. That doesn't mean anything. I've got some news for you. We found the perpetrator. The guy that beat up Mrs. Malloy. He looks something like you. Then Mrs. Malloy was pretty hysterical when she identified you. Anyway...

I thought you'd like to know. Oh, that... That is good news, Lieutenant. Yeah, I thought you'd like it. Well, I'll be getting on home. Thanks so much for coming by. Not at all. Good night. Mother? Who was it, Kenny? Who was at the door? Lieutenant Stein. They found the perpetrator. The what? The man who committed the crime. The man who... Who attacked Mrs. Malloy.

Look, Mother, if it's all right with you, I'm going to take the car and drive over to the hospital. I want to tell Dr. Knapp the machine was wrong. Guilty. The word falls heavy and precipitous. It has a horrid sound, yet a familiar one. As though at the moment of birth, the entire observing world had solemnly pronounced it over the tiny emerging head.

and the echo of the word will haunt us to the end of our days. Guilty. I'll be back shortly. To be pronounced guilty by a machine no bigger than a record player, or for that matter, to be pronounced innocent, it is a measure of our wisdom that such machines have no credit in our courts. It is a measure of our devotion to the mechanical instead of the human that they have credibility anywhere at all.

Our cast included Jack Grimes, Ann Petoniak, Nat Polam, and Gene Gillespie. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now, a preview of our next tale. Until just now, I thought I'd just... You would just what? Well, that I'd just say nothing. Judy, what do you know? Well, now I realize I can't let those people go on grieving forever.

I'll simply have to tell them, because at least they'll be comforted. Why didn't you tell us the truth in the first place? Because I was afraid no one would believe me. But that doesn't matter now, because I have no choice. I've got to tell the world exactly what happened. It began...

When we'd just flown high over Bermuda. 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 in 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, co-workers, neighbors, and others know about the podcast is incredibly valuable to me, my bride Robin, and our cat, Miss 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.

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This is...

Macabre. The Far East Network presents, in special performance, Macabre. Tonight's story, The Man in the Mirror. These freeways, always working on them.

Only two lanes here. Why can't they make their repairs on off hours? No, got a blast away during rush hour traffic. What's the matter with that guy ahead? How come he's slowing down? That'll teach him. Boy, I'm tired. Hard day at the office. Peg's got a hot supper waiting at home. I'd like to get there sometime today. That guy ahead didn't pay any attention to me at all. Come on, Buster, speed it up. It's 36. I ought to get home. Okay, I'll pass you then. Not for a barrel car, but I'll leave you with nothing to slap, buddy.

How's that for speed, eh? Hey, truck. I'm going to see you tomorrow. Collision. Go, go, go. He can't get away. Help!

What's wrong, man?

I hope you've got a strong stomach, pal. What's eating you? Look down there, where his face should be. I don't see it at all. Yeah, that's what I mean. I'm glad I got a chance to save this one, nurse. Careful, you need to be conscious, doctor. I got it. Another minute or two and we'll be all over it.

Responds to blood pressure. He's bleeding too fast. Asks for a fellow. Even if he lived, he couldn't get through life like this. Doctor, respiration irregular. Won't be long, I'm afraid. Scalping. I can hear every word they're saying. I can't move. Paralyzed. Scissors. Accident. A truck. Spun. Almost. Nothing left in my head. A dog trying to save me. Hemostat. Respiration shallow. Pardon me for the effort.

Nothing can save this man. Please, Doc, don't quit. I know you can't hear me, but please try. Help me, Doc. Don't shake your head. I'm not home. Doctor? Yes? Respiration stopped. I see. Don't give up. I don't want to die. Are you going to open his chest, Doctor? Heart massage? Yes. Absolutely hopeless. There isn't a chance. He may take another breath in a moment. Yes, I will. You'd better wash up, Nurse. Oh, don't leave!

A birth doctor? Spasmodic. Probably his last. I'm still alive, Doc. Try to save me. For God's sake! Scat the scope. Can't someone help me? Perhaps I can, John Randall. Who called my name? It was I, John Randall. You're another doctor. Indeed I'm not.

Did I hear you say you would give anything not to die? Yes, yes. I thought so. John Randall, I'll save your life for a price. Anything you say. Let me finish. I can turn back the clock, return you to the freeway before the accident. It will be as if nothing had happened at all. That's impossible. You haven't much choice, John. It's crazy. How can you expect me to believe a thing like that?

Is he dead, Doctor? I don't know in a moment, Nurse. You have no time to argue. Decide quickly. When you die, you'll be beyond my reach. Oh, I'm sinking, growing weaker. Dying? Decide. It's a bargain! Good. In just a moment, it'll be one hour ago. You'll be on the freeway driving home in your car. But remember, John Randall, I'll be back one week from tonight. Settle. Well, I'll find you.

In the mirror. Just look for me in your bedroom mirror. Goodbye, John. Don't forget our little agreement. Thank you.

Eh, these freeways. Always working on them. Only two lanes here. Why can't they make their repairs on off-hours? No, got a blast away during rush hour. What's the matter with that guy ahead? How come he's slowing down? I don't know, Jim. Hey, just had one of those familiar feelings. As if this had happened before. Strange. Now it's gone. Seems I almost remembered something unpleasant. It's not a pass that car up again. I don't think I've met her. Wonder why. Can't remember.

The way the truck was killed in a collision. Couldn't have had me sitting here driving home. I hosed off for a minute, I guess. Yeah, reamed it. Sure. No other explanation? What a relief. I've got to get home. Peg's having steak for supper. And she's one wife who expects a husband to be on time. My, you were hungry tonight, John. You ate like a condemned man at his last meal. Peg! Oh, I startled you, darling. Peg!

Why so deep and quiet? Nothing. Just thinking. John, I honestly believe you've been working too hard. Especially since you fell asleep driving home today. Oh, let's take a week off together and run down to Mother's. A week? Yes, dear. We haven't vacationed in two years. Not since we were married. Mother says we can have the cottage on the lake. You called your mother? Just before you came home.

Please, John. She wants us to come down. It's really a very nice lake, and you know how you like to fish. I don't think the office can spare me. Ask them. It takes time. We need plans. I can't just pick up and leave my job any time I want. Say yes, darling. It'll be our second honeymoon, and I don't see much of you anymore. Oh, Peg. What would I do without you? Oh, not too well, I hope. But

Darling, I love you. Tell you what. Call that old law firm you slayed for and tell them not to expect you back for a week. But Peg, I can't. John! Miss Bruce. Did you hurt your forehead? Sore. Don't touch it. How'd it happen? I don't know.

I probably banged it and fell asleep driving home. That settles it. I'll call mother in the morning and tell her to expect us. You need more rest, darling. Why, one of these days you may be killed driving home in all that traffic. Read the paper now while I clear away the dishes. All right, Peg. I am overworking. I blacked out on the freeway today. Not like me. This head bruise. I've never had a hallucination in my life. I won't start now. I'll check this thing out.

City hospital. Could you, I mean... This is the city hospital. May I help you? Yes. Would you check to see if a man hurt in a collision died there this afternoon? What was his name, please? Randall. John Randall. Thank you. Just a moment. This is ridiculous. Asking about my own death. I must be crazy. God didn't know. He sure couldn't have.

It's all so real. Hello? Yes. Did you find it? Emergency has no record of a John Randall accident victim. No record? You haven't made a mistake? No. Who's calling, please? Who's calling? Lady, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. What's the matter? Oh.

Can't sleep. It's too hot, I guess. It's nearly five. Time to get up soon. Want some hot coffee? No. Maybe I'll drop off for a nap. You haven't slept all night? I don't think so. John, something must be wrong. You always sleep like a log. Don't get excited now, Peg. Shall I call the doctor? You know you've been working too hard. Oh, I'm fine. Will you keep quiet so I can try to get some rest, though? Oh, all right.

You haven't said a thing about going to Mathers. Peg, I'm dead tired now. Shut up, will you? John, what's that on your forehead? No tricks, young lady. Now turn over and keep quiet. Darling, wait. I'll turn on the light. John, it's blood! What? Your forehead, it's bleeding! No, Peg. No, it didn't happen. I imagined the whole thing. Accident, really? Didn't happen. Accident? John, you lie right there. I'll call Dr. Shane. Don't, Peg. You must have cut a vein. Look at your pillow. Oh.

You've been bleeding all night. I've examined you thoroughly, John. I can't find a thing really wrong.

But we may have to go to my office for further tests. How do you explain the blood, Doc? I don't. There's no evidence of a wound at all. Where'd all this blood come from? That presents a puzzle. Of course, we're not really certain. It's really your own blood. We'll have to make tests. In the meantime, why don't you tell me the truth? What are you talking about? John, I've been your family doctor for many years. You're as healthy as they come.

Now you hint of some accident that never happened. You complain of a soreness in the region of the forehead and all this blood from some imaginary wound. Now, really, what do you expect me to think? Doc, you think I'm crazy. I didn't say that. You don't have to. There's more to this than meets the eye. The understatement of the year. Now put yourself in my place. What would you say? Send me to the hospital, I guess. That's more like it. Now tell me what really happened.

Start with the blood. I can't answer that. You want me to help, you'll have to tell the truth. I'm trying to, Doc. It couldn't possibly have come from you. But I... There isn't a mark on your body. Who do you think you're kidding? Impossible. Doc, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Give it a try. It might. Maybe I should have died on that operating table. What? All right. I'll tell you. You'll think I'm nuts, but so help me, it's the truth. It all started yesterday and I was driving home on the freeway.

I thought I had an accident. What do you mean, thought? Aren't you certain? Let me finish, Doc. I hit this truck. They rushed me to the hospital. I was dying. Face torn off. Blood everywhere. And then, just before I died, a voice called to me. He knew my name and everything. He said he would save me for a price. I had to agree. What did he ask? Didn't say. Just said he'd be back in a week to settle. Where are you supposed to meet this man? That's the funniest part. He said to look in my bedroom mirror.

Then he'd be there. Then what? Found myself back on the freeway. Said nothing had happened. I got home. I checked the hospital. They had no record of an accident victim of my name. I could have told you that. What do you think, Doc? I'm not trying to pull a fast one. I'm scared. You blacked out for a moment while on the freeway. Fatigued from overwork.

I've ruled out the possibility of a small stroke. Recovery was too rapid. Blacked out? Fatigue acts in strange ways, John. Sometimes makes it difficult to separate fantasy from reality. You've pushed yourself to the breaking point. You'll have to be careful. You don't believe it happened? Yes, yes, it certainly did. But only in your mind. Sounds reasonable. What about my forehead? It's pretty sore. Probably sympathetic. That leaves the blood.

If it weren't for that, I'd dismiss you right now with just a warning to slow down. I'm taking a sample of it back to the office with me. I want you to come along. What about Peg? Leave her home. We'll call her later. There's something here I don't quite understand. Peg?

Hello? Mrs. Randall? Yes? This is Dr. Shane. Oh, how is John? What did you find out? That's what I want to talk to you about. He's in the other room. He can't hear us. Is it serious? The blood on the pillow matches. It says all right. But I can't figure out where it came from.

He takes normal in every way, with one exception. Oh? The results of the EEG test show a brainwave irregularity. Now, it would seem that John received a hard blow on the head. However, I can find no physical evidence to verify this. What does it mean, Doctor? Hard to tell at this point. I think he's nervously exhausted from all the work. Practically in a state of shock from this nightmare of a freeway accident. That's pure fantasy.

You must help him overcome it, Mrs. Randall. My mother wants us to visit her for a week on the lake. Splendid. By all means, go in and make John rest. Do you think he'll be able to leave today? The sooner the better. And Mrs. Randall? Yes, Doctor? Your husband has a fixation about some man in a mirror. It's a dangerous thing. It might grow. Try to convince him. It never happens.

Oh, darling. Oh, have so much fun. Yeah, sounds good to me. Mother's given us a house on the lake where we can be all alone together. Second honeymoon, Peg. And we'll forget that thing on the freeway. We'll forget it. It didn't happen. It didn't happen. Oh, John, I'm so glad you're sensible about it. Kiss? Mm. Mm-hmm.

I love you, Peg. Oh, I brought the tennis racket. She talks about tennis at a time like this. Oh, let's hurry, darling. Sure, Peg. We deserve one last good time together. How about some more eggs? Oh, thanks. Coffee would be nice, though. Coming up.

Oh, this country air is wonderful. Five whole days of fishing, tennis, dancing and fun. Pass the donuts, Peg. Yes, my lord master. Hey, I bet you're pretty well trained. We'll have to relax like this more often. Oh, darling, it's so good to see you laugh. We can't let you get down like that again, can we? I wasn't so bad. Don't miss you at that old law firm. John, if they don't make you a full partner, you're not going back.

Well, what'll we do today? Oh, it's beautiful this morning. I know. Take me to the village to shop. Okay. I get my coat. Off we go. Honey, haven't you forgotten something? What? Mr. Randall, do you realize that in the five days we've been here, you haven't shaved once?

I know, Peg. Well, look at yourself, dear. You'll have to before we go shopping. Here, take my compact and see how you look in the mirror. No! John! You've ruined it! You deliberately threw it on the floor! I'm sorry. Really, Peg. But why? Oh!

Oh, John, you didn't want to look in the mirror. Peg. Oh, what a fool I've been. You're not getting over it. It's growing worse. Don't cry, darling. I'm trying. You believe that that man is real, don't you? I don't want to, Peg. I don't want to. Dr. Shane warned me about this. His hat's up to you, John. You have to make up your own mind. It's only fantasy.

Or you might spend the rest of your life in that other world. Is that bad? Yes, darling. Please, please try. It's like telling my right hand my left one doesn't exist. Oh, you've got to try. All right, I'll try. Dr. Shane said if you give in, he'll have to take you away. I love you.

John, are you feeling all right? Darling, why don't you answer? It's not daylight yet. He's not in bed. Where is he? John? John? Shh! I'm here, by the window. What's the matter, darling? Don't you feel well? Quiet. Look out there. Can you see anything? Just the lake, the moon, and the trees on the other side. Shh!

There is something out there. Maybe a dog. No. Dogs aren't that large. What did you see? I can't be sure. When I woke up, a shadow was at this window. My poor darling. Don't pity me, Peg. Dr. Shane said fixations with a time limit usually leave after the limit has passed. Shh. Be quiet. There's nothing out there. Now come back to bed. This is the seventh and last day, darling. That man's not coming back because he never existed in the first place.

Please, John, you just have to get by today, and then you'll be free.

It's so peaceful on the porch here, by the way. What's the time? Almost seven. Time has passed. We're safe. John, I'm proud of you. You've won, darling. You've stood your ground and won. Yeah, really a sweat, eh? It's just had to end this way. No one believes in witches and phantoms anymore. We're too scientific. I can think clearly for the first time in a week.

Now that it's over. Oh, we have this wonderful lake all to ourselves tonight. Mother went to the village and no one for miles around. Isn't it romantic? Thanks for standing by me. Is that a proposal, sir? Darling. Come on.

What would you like to do this evening? Walk around the lake. Hey, not bad. Hold on while I get some cigarettes in the bedroom. All right. Oh, God!

I'll be right back. Hurry, Peg! Oh, no. I didn't cut an armory. It's a devil's work. He's here. You don't have to hide. I know you're here. My, my. Quite messy. You didn't come back. Where are you? In due time, friend. You didn't expect me to forget our appointment, did you? I'm bleeding to death. You haven't helped me a bit. You were badly matched up. Difficult to remove all the traces. What is it you want?

Dr. Shane says you're a figment of my imagination. You're not real. Because I can see him and talk to him. I've never seen you. Oh. Of course not.

Does that make it less real? I don't owe you a say. Your agreement was for one week of life. That has been fulfilled. You should have followed your destiny and died in the accident. But you chose another path and bargained with me. My life is over. Join me in the mirror. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Oh, my God.

Mrs. Randall, I'm the coroner. You know, of course, your husband's dead. Don't see how he could have had such a terrible accident in a bedroom. Main point, I can't figure those. Why you didn't call me sooner? Mr. Randall's been dead a week. You have just heard Macabre, a special Far East Network presentation.

♪♪

Macabre comes to you each week at this time through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service. Macabre.

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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. T.

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.

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The End

Welcome to a half hour of MindWaves. Short stories from the worlds of speculative fiction.

The first story is from the book Science Fiction for People Who Hate Science Fiction, edited by Terry Carr. It's The Man with English by H.L. Gole. Lying in the hospital, Edgar Stone added up his misfortunes as another might count blessings. There were enough to infuriate the most temperate man, which Stone notoriously was not. He smashed his fist down, accidentally hitting the metal side of the bed, and was astonished by the pleasant feeling. It enraged him even more.

The really maddening thing was how simply he had goaded himself into the hospital. He'd locked up his dry goods store and driven home for lunch. Nothing unusual about that. He did it every day. With his miserable digestion, he couldn't stand the restaurant food in town. He pulled into the driveway, rode over a collection of metal shapes his son Arnold had left lying around and punctured a tire. Rita, this is going too damn far. Now, where is that brat? I'm in here. He kicked open the screen door. His foot went through the mesh.

A riptire and a torn screen. He shouted at Arnold, who was sprawled in angular adolescence over a blueprint on the kitchen table. You'll pay for them, by God. They're coming out of your allowance. I'm sorry, Pop. Sorry, my left foot. You could have watched where you were going.

He promised to clean up his things from the driveway right after lunch. And it's about time you stopped kicking the door open every time you were mad. Mad? Well, who wouldn't be mad? Me, hoping he'd get out of school and come into the store. And all he wants to do is become an engineer. An engineer. And he can't even make change when he helps me out in the store. He'll be whatever he wants to be. Please, I can't concentrate on this plan.

Edgar Stone was never one to restrain an angry impulse. He tore up the blueprint and flung the pieces down on the table. Oh, Pop. Don't say, oh, Pop, to me. You're not going to waste a summer vacation on junk like this. You'll eat your lunch and come down to the store and you'll do it every day for the rest of the summer. Oh, we will, Willie. To catch up on his studies. And as for you, you can go back and eat in the restaurant. You know I can't stand that slop. You'll eat it because you're not having lunch here anymore.

to do without making three meals a day. But I can't drive back with that tire. He did, though not with a tire. He took a cab. It cost a dollar plus tip. Lunch was a dollar and a half plus tip. Buy carb at the right drugstore a few doors away. And in a great hurry, came to another 15 cents. Only it didn't work. And then, Miss Ellis came in for some material. Miss Ellis could round out any miserable day. She was 50, tall, skinny, and had thin, disapproving lips.

She had a sliver of cloth clipped very meagerly off a hem that she intended to use as a sample. The arms of the slipcover on my reading chair wore through. I bought the material here, if you remember.

Uh, that was about seven years ago. Six and a half. I paid enough for it. You'd expect anything that expensive to last. The style was discontinued. I have something here, Miss Ellis. I do not want to make an entire slipcover, Mr. Stone. All I want is enough to make new panels for the arms. Two yards should do very nicely. Two yards, Miss Ellis? At the most. I sold the last of that material years ago.

I want this same pattern. Well, then I'll have to order it and just hope that one of my wholesalers still has some of it in stock. Not without looking for it first right here. You won't order it for me. You can't know all the materials you have on these shelves.

Stone felt all the familiar symptoms of fury, the sudden pulsing of the temples, the lurch and bump of his heart as adrenaline came surging in like the tide at the Firth of Forth, the quivering of his hands, the angry shout pulsing at his vocal cords from below. I'll take a look, Miss Ellis. She was president of the Ladies' Cultural Society and dominated it so thoroughly that the members would go clear to the next town for their dry goods rather than deal with him if he offended this sour stick of stubbornness.

If Stone's life insurance salesman had been there, he would have tried to keep Stone from climbing the ladder that ran around the three walls of the store. He probably wouldn't have been in time. Stone stamped up the ladder to reach the highest shelves where there were scraps of bolts. One of them might have been the remnant of the material Miss Ellis had bought six and a half years ago. But Stone never found out. He snatched one, glaring down, meanwhile, at the top of Miss Ellis's head, and the ladder skidded out from under him.

He felt his skull collide with the counter. He didn't feel it hit the floor. God damn it, you could at least turn on the lights. There, there, Edgar. Everything's going to be fine. Just fine. What's wrong with me? Am I blind? How many fingers am I holding up? Stone was peering into the blackness. All he could see before his eyes was a vague blot against a darker blot. Nun, who are you?

Dr. Rankin, that was a nasty fall you had, Mr. Stone. A concussion, of course, and a splinter of bone driven into the brain. I had to operate to remove it. Then you cut out a nerve. You did something to my eyes.

There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him. I'll take a look, though, and see. Now, dear, you're going to be all right. Sure you will, Pop. Is that young stinker here? He's the cause of all this. Temper, temper. Accidents happen, Mr. Stone. Stone heard him lower the Venetian blinds. As if they had been a switch, light sprang up and everything in the hospital became brightly visible. Well, that's more like it. It's night and you're trying to save electricity, right?

broad daylight, Edgar, dear. All Dr. Rankin did was lower the blinds and... Please, please, if you don't mind, I'd rather take care of any explanations that have to be made. He came at Stone with an ophthalmoscope, and when he flashed it into Stone's eyes, everything went black, and Stone let him know it vociferously.

Black? Are you positive? Not a sudden glare? Black. And what's the idea of putting me in a bed filled with breadcrumbs? It was freshly made. Crumbs. That's right, you heard me. And the pillow's got rocks in it. What else is bothering you? It's freezing in here. It was summer when I fell off the ladder. Don't tell me I've been unconscious clear through the winter. No, Pop, that was yesterday.

I'll take care of this. I'm afraid you and your son will have to leave, Mrs. Stone. I have to do a few tests on your husband. Will he be all right? Oh, yes, of course. Shock, you know. Gosh, Pop, I'm sorry all this happened. I got the driveway all cleaned up. And we'll take care of the store, Ed, till you're better. Don't you dare. You'll put me out of business. The doctor hastily shut the door on them and came back to the bed.

Stone was clutching the light summer blanket around himself. He felt colder than he'd ever been in his life. Can't you get me more blankets? You don't want me to die in pneumonia, do you? Dr. Rankin opened the blinds and asked, What's this like? Night. What is it, a new idea to save electricity, hooking up the blinds to the light switch? The doctor closed the blinds and sat down beside the bed. He was sweating as he reached for the signal button and pressed it.

A nurse came in, blinking in their direction. Why don't you turn on the light? Huh? They are...

Nurse, I'm Dr. Rankin. Get me a piece of sandpaper, some cotton swabs, let's see, oh, and an ice cube and Mr. Stone's lunch. Is there anything he shouldn't eat? That's what I want to find out, nurse. Now hurry, please. And some blankets. Blankets, doctor? Half a dozen will do, I think.

It took her ten minutes to return with all the items. Stone wanted them to keep adding blankets until seven were on him, and he still felt cold. Maybe some hot coffee. The doctor nodded, and the nurse poured a cup, added a spoon and a half of sugar he requested, and he took a mouthful. He sprayed it out violently. Ice cold, and who put salt in it? Salt? It's so dark in here. I'll attend to it, nurse. Thank you.

She walked cautiously to the door and went out. Try this, said the doctor after filling another cup. Well, that's better. Damn practical joker. They shouldn't be allowed to work in hospitals. And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to try several tests. Stone was still angry at the trick played on him, but he cooperated willingly.

Dr. Rankin finally sagged back in the chair. The sweat ran down his face and into his collar, and his expression was so dazed that Stone was alarmed. What's wrong, Doctor? Am I going to, you know, am I going to... No, no, it's not that. No danger. At least I don't believe there is, but I can't even be sure of that anymore. You can't be sure if I'll live or die? Look, it's broad daylight, and yet you can't see until I darken the room.

"'The coffee was hot and sweet, but it was cold and salty to you, "'so I added an ice cube and a spoonful of salt, "'and then it tasted fine,' you said. "'And, Mr. Stone, this is one of the hottest days of the year, "'and you're freezing.' "'And you told me the sandpaper felt smooth and satiny. "'Then you yelled that somebody had put pens in the cotton swabs "'when there weren't any, of course.'

I've tried you with different colors around the room and you saw violet when you should have seen yellow. Green for red, orange for blue and so on. Now do you understand?

No. What's wrong, Doc? Well, all I can do is guess. I had to remove that sliver of bone from your brain and, well, it apparently shorted your sensory nerves. And what happened? Every one of your senses has apparently been reversed.

You feel cold for heat, heat for cold, smooth for rough, rough for smooth, sour for sweet, sweet for sour, and so forth, Mr. Stone, and you see colors backward. Murderer, you thief, you've ruined me! The doctor sprang for a hypodermic and sedative. Just in time, he changed his mind and took a bottle of stimulant instead.

It worked fine, though injecting it into a screaming, thrashing patient took more strength than he'd known he owned. Stone fell asleep immediately. Now there were nine blankets on Stone, and he had a bag of cement for a pillow. When he had his lawyer, Manny Lubin, in to hear the charges that he wanted brought against Dr. Rankin, the doctor was there to defend himself, and Mrs. Stone was present in spite of her husband's objections. Hello?

I'll be honest with you, Mr. Lubin. I've hunted for cases like this in medical history, and this is the first one ever to be reported. Well, except I actually haven't reported it yet. I'm hoping it'll reverse itself. That sometimes happens, you know. And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? I'll have to go out wearing an overcoat in the summer and shorts in the winter, and people will think I'm a maniac or something, and they'll be sure of it because I'll...

I'll have to keep the store closed during the day and open at night. I can't see except in the dark. And matching materials. I can't stand the feel of smooth cloth and I see colors backward. How would you like to have to put sugar on your food and salt on your coffee? But we'll work it out, Edgar, dear. Harold and I can take care of the store.

You always wanted him to come into the business, so that ought to please you. As long as I'm there to watch him, it will. And Dr. Rankin said maybe things will straighten out. Well, what about that, Doctor? As his attorney, I'm interested in what are Stone's chances. I don't know. This has never happened before. All we can do is hope. Hope nothing. I want to sue him. He's got no right to go meddling around and turn me upside down. Any jury would give me a quarter of a million.

I'm no millionaire, Mr. Stone. But the hospital has money. We'll sue you and the trustees. Well, I'm afraid we wouldn't have a case, Mr. Stone. It was an emergency operation, and any surgeon would have had to operate. Am I right, Dr. Rankin?

The doctor explained what would have happened if he had not removed the pressure on the brain resulting from the concussion and the danger that the bone splinter, if not extracted, might have gone on traveling and caused possible paralysis or death. Well, that'd be better than this. But medical ethics couldn't allow him to let you die, Mr. Stone. He was doing his duty. That's point one. Mr. Lubin is absolutely right, Edgar.

There, you see? Everybody's right but me. Will you get her out of here before I have a stroke? Her interests are also involved. And point two is that the emergency came first. The after effects couldn't be known or considered. Any operation involves risk, even the excising of a corn. I had to take those risks. You had to take them? All right, what are you leading up to, Lubin?

Well, what I mean to say, Mr. Stone, is that we'd lose. So we'd lose, but if we sue, the publicity would ruin him. I want to sue. What, Edgar, dear? We'll have a hard enough time managing. Why throw good money after bad? Why didn't I marry a woman who'd take my side, even when I'm wrong? Revenge, that's what. And he won't be able to practice, so he'll have time to find out if there is a cure. And at no charge either. I won't pay him another cent.

Well, I'm willing to see what can be done right now. And it wouldn't cost you anything, naturally. What do you mean? Well, if I were to perform another operation, I'll be able to see which nerves were involved. There's no need to go into the technical side of it right now, but it is possible to connect nerves. Of course, there are a good many which complicates things, but the splinter went through several layers, you must remember.

Are you offering to attempt to correct the injury, greatest? Certainly. I mean to say I'll do my absolute best. But keep in mind, please, that there is no medical precedent. Well, in view of the fact that we have no legal grounds, whatever for suit...

Does this offer of settlement satisfy your claim against him, Mr. Stone? Oh, yes. I guess so. Well, then it's in your hands, Doctor. I'll have him prepared for surgery right away. It better work this time, Stone warned, clutching a handful of ice cubes to warm his fingers. Stone came to foggily.

He didn't know it, but he had given the anesthetist a bewildering problem which finally had been solved by using fumes of aromatic spirits of ammonia. Now four blurred figures around the bed seemed to be leaning precariously toward him. Hey, hey, Pop. Pop, look. Look, he's coming out of it. Pop. Edgar? Edgar?

Speak to me, Edgar, dear. See how he is, Doctor. Oh, he's fine. He must be. The blinds are open and he's not complaining that it's dark or that he's cold. How are we feeling, Mr. Stone? It took a minute or two for Stone to move his swollen tongue enough to answer. And he wrinkled his nose in disgust and demanded... Uh...

What smells purple? That story was titled The Man with English, written by H.L. Gold. One of the places it appears is in Terry Carr's book, Science Fiction for People Who Hate Science Fiction. Joining me in the reading and providing the women's voices were Jay Fitz, Carol Cowan, and Mindy Ratner. ♪

The second story this time comes from Roger Zelazny's book, The Doors of His Face, The Lamps of His Mouth, and Other Stories. The title is Lucifer. Carlson stood on the hill in the silent center of the city whose people had died. He stared up at the building, the one structure that dwarfed every hotel grid, skyscraper needle, or apartment cheese box packed into all the miles that lay about him. Carlson suddenly felt that he should not have come back.

It had been over two years, as he figured it, since last he had been here. He wanted to return to the mountains now. One look was enough, yet still he stood before it transfixed by the huge building, by the long shadow that bridged the entire valley. He shrugged his thick shoulders then in an unsuccessful attempt to shake off memories of the days five or was it six years ago when he had worked within the giant unit.

Then he climbed the rest of the way up the hill and entered the high, wide doorway. His fiber sandals cast a variety of echoes as he passed through the deserted offices and into the long hallway that led to the belts. The belts, of course, were still. There were no thousands riding them. There was no one alive to ride. Their deep belly rumble was only a noisy phantom in his mind as he climbed down to the one nearest him and walked ahead into the pitchy insides of the place.

It was like a mausoleum. There seemed no ceiling, no walls, only the soft pat, pat of his soles on the flexible fabric of the belt. When he reached the lift, he set off to the right of it until his memory led him to the maintenance stairs. Shouldering his bundle, he began the long, groping ascent. He blinked at the light when he came into the power rooms.

Filtered through its hundred high windows, the sunlight trickled across the dusty acres of machinery. He brushed his hair from his eyes and advanced down the narrow metal stair to where the generators stood row on row like an army of dead black beetles. It took him six hours to give them all a cursory check.

He selected three in the second row and systematically began tearing them down, cleaning them, soldering their loose connections with the auto iron, greasing them, oiling them, and sweeping away all the dust, the cobwebs, and pieces of cracked insulation that lay at their bases. Finally, he put down his broom, remounted the stair, and returned to his parcel. He removed one of the water bottles and drank off half its contents. He ate a piece of dried meat and finished the bottle.

He allowed himself one cigarette then and returned to work. It took him two more days to get the generators ready. Then he began work on the huge broadcast panel. It was in better condition than the generators because it had last been used two years ago, whereas the generators, save for the three it burned out last time, had slept for over five, or was it six, years. He soldered and wiped and inspected until he was satisfied. Then only one task remained.

All the maintenance robots stood frozen in mid-gesture. Carlson would have to rustle a 300-pound power cube without assistance. If he could get one down from the rack and onto a cart without breaking a wrist, he would probably be able to convey it to the igniter without much difficulty. Then he would have to place it within the oven. He had almost ruptured himself when he did it two years ago, but he hoped that he was somewhat stronger and luckier this time.

It took him ten minutes to clean the igniter oven. Then he located a cart and pushed it back to the rack. One cube was resting at just the right height, approximately eight inches above the level of the cart's bed. He kicked down anchor chocks and moved around to study the rack. The cube lay on a downward slanting shelf restrained by a two-inch metal guard. He pushed at the guard. It was bolted to the shelf.

Returning to the work area, he searched the toolboxes for a wrench. Then he moved back to the rack and set to work on the nuts. The guard came loose as he was working on the fourth nut. He heard a dangerous creak and threw himself back out of the way, dropping the wrench on his toes. The cube slid forward, crushed the loosened rail, teetered a bare moment, and then dropped with a resounding crash onto the heavy bed of the cart.

The bed surface bent and began to crease beneath its weight. The cart swayed toward the outside. The cube continued to slide until over half a foot projected beyond the edge. And then, then the cart righted itself and shivered into steadiness. Gingerly, he guided it up the aisle and between the rows of generators until he stood before the igniter. He anchored the cart again, stopped for water and a cigarette, then searched up a pinch bar, a small jack, and a long flat metal plate.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

With a sound like the stroke of a cracked bell, the cube tumbled onto the bridgeway. It slid forward and to the left. He struck at it with a bar, bearing to the right with all his strength. About half an inch of it caught against the left edge of the oven frame. The gap between the cube and the frame was widest at the bottom. He inserted the bar and heaved his weight against it three times. Then it moved forward and came to rest within the igniter.

He began to laugh. He laughed until he felt weak. He sat on the broken cart, swinging his legs and chuckling to himself until the sounds coming from his throat seemed alien and out of place. He stopped abruptly and slammed the door. The broadcast panel had a thousand eyes, but none of them winked back at him. He made the final adjustments for transmit, then gave the generators their last checkout. After that, he mounted a catwalk and moved to a window.

There was still some daylight to spend, so he moved from window to window, pressing the open button set below each sill. He ate the rest of his food then and drank a whole bottle of water and smoked two cigarettes. Sitting on the stair, he thought of the days when he had worked with Kelly and Murchison and Dijinsky, twisting the tails of electrons until they wailed and leapt out over the walls and fled down into the city.

The clock. He remembered it suddenly, sat high on the wall to the left of the doorway, frozen at 9.33 and 48 seconds. He moved a ladder through the twilight and mounted it to the clock. He wiped the dust from its greasy face with a sweeping circular movement. Then he was ready. He crossed to the igniter and turned it on. Somewhere the ever batteries came alive and he heard a click as a thin, sharp shaft was driven into the wall of the cube.

He raced up the stairs and sped hand over hand up to the catwalk. He moved to a window and waited. God, he murmured, don't let him blow, please don't. Across an eternity of darkness, the generators began humming. He heard a crackle of static from the broadcast panel and he closed his eyes. The sound. He opened his eyes as he heard the window slide upward. All around him, the hundred high windows opened. A small light came on above the bench in the work area below him, but he did not see it.

He was staring out beyond the wide drop of the Acropolis and down into the city, his city. The lights were not like the stars. They beat the stars all to hell.

They were the gay, regularized constellation of a city where men made their homes. Even rows of street lamps, advertisements, lighted windows in the cheese box apartments, a random solitaire of bright squares running up the sides of skyscraper needles. A searchlight swiveling its luminous antenna through cloud banks that hung over the city. He dashed to another window, feeling the high night breezes comb at his beard.

Belts were humming below. He heard their wry monologues rattling through the city's deepest canyons. He pictured the people in their homes and theaters and bars, talking to each other, sharing a common amusement, playing clarinets, holding hands, eating an evening snack. Sleeping row cars awakened and rushed past each other in the levels above the belts.

The background hum of the city told him its story of production, of function, of movement, and service to its inhabitants. The sky seemed to wheel overhead as though the city were its turning hub in the universe, its outer rim. Then the lights dimmed from white to yellow, and he hurried with desperate steps to another window. No, no, not so soon. Don't leave me yet, he sobbed.

The windows closed themselves and the lights went out. He stood on the walk for a long time staring at the dead embers. A smell of ozone reached his nostrils. He was aware of a blue halo about the dying generators. He descended and crossed the work area to the ladder he had set against the wall. Pressing his face against the glass and squinting for a long time, he could make out the position of the hands...

"'Nine thirty-five and twenty-one seconds,' Carlson read. "'Do you hear that?' he called out, shaking his fist at anything. "'Ninety-three seconds! I made you live for ninety-three seconds!' Then he covered his face against the darkness and was silent. After a long while, he descended the stairway, walked the belt, and moved through the long hallway and out of the building."

As he headed back toward the mountains, he promised himself again that he would never return. That story was titled Lucifer. It comes from the book The Doors of His Face, The Lamps of His Mouth, and Other Stories by Roger Zelazny. This is Michael Hansen speaking. Technical production from MindWebs by Leslie Hilsenhoff and Steve Gordon. MindWebs is a production of WHA Radio in Madison, a service of University of Wisconsin Extension.

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. See shadows somehow being cast onto the backdrop that is supposed to be outer space. 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 actors' or directors' 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/TV and we'll see you Saturday, January 18th for our Weirdo Watch Party!

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If you're a facilities manager at a university, you know students rely on the cafeteria for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the occasional late night snack. So when a dishwasher breaks down and dirty plates pile up, the mess hall can turn messy in the blink of an eye. Enter Grainger. With over a million industrial grade products and fast delivery, the product you need now is never far away. So you can turn that dishwasher back into a lean, clean washing machine. Call.

Click Grainger.com or just stop by. Grainger, for the ones who get it done. Hi, it's Sherry, owner of LifeSource Water. A LifeSource whole house water system ensures that clean, delicious, and refreshing water flows from every tap and faucet in your home. Our healthy water makes your hair shine and your skin glow. And now is the best time to get your LifeSource. For a limited time, we pay your sales tax. Save up to $1,000 on a new system. Call 800-WATER-99 for your no-tax

This is Mercer McLeod, the man with the story. In the stillness of the night...

The sound of the door buzzer seemed strident and demanding. There was a pause. Then it rang again. Tommy. Tommy, wake up. There's someone at the door. Tommy. Shall I answer it? Dear. All right. I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming.

Where is he? Who? Don't stall, sister. Look, there's blood on the doorstep. He came in here. There's no one here, and I'm going to close the door. Grab her, Joe. Leave me alone. What right have you to come in here like this? Another squawk out of you, and I'll slap you silly. Okay, Joe, search the place. Oh.

Well, I'll tell you of this midnight encounter in just a moment. THE END

♪♪

♪♪

Blood on the doorstep. Who's there? Sheila sat up in bed. She listened. Moonlight poured in through the open window, bathing her bare shoulders and rippling jet black hair with a silvery glow.

Holding her breath, she listened. Sheila's heart pounded madly. Except for this intruder, she was alone in the house. Her mother and dad were away on their vacation. Again, there was a slight noise, this time from the stairs. She watched the door of her room with dull terror. For the first time in her life, she wished the family hadn't bought this lonely house down by the lake. What good was a lovely garden and the cool lake breeze if one were going to be murdered?

Sheila opened her mouth to scream and found she couldn't utter a sound. And now the door opened. The moonlight illuminated a disheveled, swaying, grim-faced young man in a stained white shirt and dark trousers. Sheila, Sheila, I... Tommy, Tommy, what is it? Tommy! Sheila, I'm sorry. I had to come here. Tommy, what happened?

I... I've been shot. Sheila ran into the bathroom and returned with iodine and bandages, bewildering thoughts racing through her head. What was her fiancé running away from? And what's this? What was Tommy, the quiet, friendly chief designer of space aircraft, doing with a gun under his arm? She smoothed down the last piece of adhesive tape, decided that the bleeding had stopped, and started for the telephone to call the police. But wait...

Suppose Tommy was running away from the police. She shuddered and slipped on a negligee. What should she do? Tommy. Tommy, wake up. There's someone at the door. Shall I answer it? Oh, dear. All right. I'm coming. Just a moment. Where is he?

Who? Don't stall, sister. Look, there's blood on the doorstep. He came in here. There's no one here and I'm going to close the door. Grab her, Joe. Don't leave me alone. Right of you to break in here like this. Another squawk out of you and I'll slap you silly. Okay, Joe, search the place. Okay, boss. Now you, in there. Go on. Now, switch on the light. Now sit down. You're not the police. What do you care?

When we get this guy, we'll clear out of here and you can go back to bed. Who are you? Shut up. Doc, there's blood on the floor upstairs and it looks like this day's been patching him up. But he ain't dead. Nonsense. Go back and find him. If he makes a move, shoot. Okay, but... So you're in on this too, eh? What do you mean? Where is he? I don't know. Well, we'll get him. Doc, he's here. He got cold.

All right, good. Drag him down here. No, he's badly hurt. Shut up. Bring him down, Joe. Okay. Now, we're getting somewhere. You'll kill him treating him like this. So what? We want them drawings. Here we are, boss. All right, search him. I have, boss. They're not on him. I got his gun, though. He must have given it to the dame. Yeah, that's what I've been wondering.

Look, babe, give us them drawings and we'll scram out of here. But I don't know anything about them. Probably they're planted upstairs. Joe, turn the room inside and out. Okay, Doc. You'd save yourself a lot of grief if you'd tell us where they're hidden. Your friend here will probably conk out if he doesn't get to a hospital, so how about it? What makes you think he'd carry such things around in his pockets?

They locked their drawings up in the vault at the plant. He's been working on this design at home in the evenings. He was working on them tonight when we called on him. Unfortunately, he slipped through our fingers and took the drawings with him. Where did he put them? I don't know. Well, when he regains consciousness, I'm afraid we might have to urge you a bit to force him to be reasonable, providing, of course, that Joe doesn't locate them. There isn't much time.

What are you going to do? Well, we might have to cut your pretty face up a bit with a penknife. That should arouse his chivalry, don't you think? How are you making out, Joe? Nothing yet. Yeah, that's what I thought. Well, your friend looks like he's coming, too. Want to see the knife? There it is. Yep. I guess we wasted enough time. All right, sister. No. Come on. No. No.

Mrs. Mercer-McLeod again, and I'll be back to tell you the rest in just a moment. Oh!

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ Now, back to Sheila, Doc, and the unconscious Tommy sprawled on the floor. ♪♪

Sheila shuddered. Then she tensed. Had Tommy moved? She tried hard not to look directly at him, lest Doc notice too. Yes, he had shifted his arm slightly. Then he sighed. Doc turned and bent over him, gun poised. Sheila stealthily reached out and picked up a heavy bronze bookend. She sprang to her feet and crashed it down on Doc's head. He sank to his knees in a limp heap.

Atta girl, Sheila. Tommy! I thought you were dead. Shh. I'm just a bit groggy, that's all. When that smoothie held you in front of him, I didn't know what to do, so I pretended to faint. It seemed to take care of things for the moment, but gosh, it was mighty hard to keep still when he was pushing you around. That crack about cutting you up riled me too much. Pass me that bronze book, Hayden. Everything all right, Doc? Doc? Doc?

Pretend Doc is giving you the works, eh? I'll make slaps. Oh, yes, yes. Oh, stop it! You're hurting me! Hey, Doc, let me take a swat of that schmally skirt. I'll make her talk. Oh, boy! Well, that's that. Now for the police. You know, Sheila...

When we get married, there'll be no heavy objects around. You aim too straight for a woman. Oh, hello, please. Russian ambulance and a doctor as well as a squad car over to the Howell residence out at the turnpike. Right? Oh, Tommy, I thought we'd never get out of this. Yeah, that's thanks to you, dear. Tommy, what about those drawings? I hid them under one of the flagstones at the front door. One of the flagstones? Yes. I know which one because...

I dripped some blood on it. Well, Rita...

Well, Mercer, what about those drawings? What's the matter? Didn't know that I could draw, eh? All you can draw is your salary. Oh, pretty as a picture, aren't you? Well, I'm not as bad as I'm painted. I'm just etching to say that. I'm framed again. Well, as always, friends, all characters were portrayed by Rita and myself, and as Rita says... Goodbye. I say I'll be telling you another soon. This is yours truly, Mercer McLeod, the man with the story. Oh, my.

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

If you're a facilities manager at a university, you know students rely on the cafeteria for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the occasional late night snack. So when a dishwasher breaks down and dirty plates pile up, the mess hall can turn messy in the blink of an eye. Enter Grainger. With over a million industrial grade products and fast delivery, the product you need now is never far away. So you can turn that dishwasher back into a lean, clean washing machine. Call

Click Grainger.com or just stop by. Grainger, for the ones who get it done. Hi, it's Sherry, owner of LifeSource Water. A LifeSource whole house water system ensures that clean, delicious, and refreshing water flows from every tap and faucet in your home. Our healthy water makes your hair shine and your skin glow. And now is the best time to get your LifeSource. For a limited time, we pay your sales tax.

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Insured by NCUA. Head to Safeway this week for these amazing deals for members. USDA Choice Beef Rib Eye Roast, $5.77 per pound with a minimum purchase of $150 or more. Pairs well with Alexander Valley Cabernet, 750 milliliters, single price, $21.99 each. Or buy six or more and mix and match for $17.81 each plus CRV. For an amazing digital deal, choose Signature Select Classic Ham. Shank half or whole bone in for $0.87 per pound. Limit one item.

Visit Safeway.com for more details. See you in the aisles. Mystery in the Air, starring Peter Lorre, presented by Camel Cigarettes.

Ladies and gentlemen, there are two kinds of stories. Those you can take to bed with you and relax you and put your mind at ease. And then, then there's the other kind. And our story tonight is the other kind. I still do not know whether it was the shadow of the madness to which the author himself so tragically succumbed.

or whether there really was an evil something that could not be seen or described, why don't you decide for yourself? I'm simply going to tell you the facts in a case that's set forth by Guy de Maupassant in his immortal story, The Hauler. Each week at this hour, Peter Lorre brings us the excitement of the great stories of the strange and unusual...

of dark and compelling masterpieces culled from the four corners of world literature. Tonight, The Horla by de Maupassant. Mystery in the Air, starring Peter Lorre. Brought to you by Camel Cigarette. ♪♪

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Discover whether that rich, full camel flavor doesn't just hit the spot with your taste. Whether that cool camel mildness doesn't get along beautifully with your throat. See if you too don't say, Camels suit my T-zone to a T.

May 8, 1889. Oh, what a lovely day it was. I spent all the morning lying in the grass in front of my house. The house in which I was born and grew up. Oh, it's a wonderful house and I love it.

From my windows I can see our great river, the Seine, which flows along the side of my garden, yes, the great wide Seine, which goes to Rouen, Le Havre, and is covered by boats passing to and fro. Yes, down to the left lies Rouen, and a whole city dominated by the spire of the cathedral, and full of bells which sound through the air on fine days,

Even as far as my home. What a wonderful morning. I was almost sorry when Marie... She's my housemaid, you know, when she interrupted me. Your luncheon is ready, Missy. Oh, thank you, Marie. But, you know, it seems a pity to go in a house. Say, do you like it here, Marie? Oh, yes, sir. I like it very much. Yes.

I love to watch the boats go by on the Seine. Oh, you do, huh? So do I. See that one? That big schooner, and it's being pulled by... Look, what a little tug. Oh, look, it's no bigger than a fly. Isn't it beautiful? So clean and white and shiny. Yes, all white, yes. And she's a three-master, you know. Brazilian, I think, yes. Yes, I can see the flag. It is Brazilian.

Oh, she's had a long journey from South America to pass my house. You love this place very much, don't you, Monsieur? Yes, Marie, I love it.

I can feel those deep roots which attach a man to the soil on which his ancestors were born and died, and to the villages, yes, to the atmosphere itself. You don't know what I'm talking about, do you, Marie? No, sir. No. But I do know that if you don't come into the house soon, your luncheon will be cold. All right, all right, Marie, I'll come in. THE END

May 12th. For some reason, I've had a slight feverish attack the last few days, and I feel low-spirited and ill. I have continually a horrible feeling of impending danger, an apprehension of some coming misfortune or of approaching death. I've never experienced anything like this before. If it continues, I think I'll have to see my doctor.

Look, I've told you, your pulse is rapid and your eyes are slightly dilated. Otherwise, you're in splendid condition. But, doctor, then why is it when evening comes on, a feeling of oppression seizes me, just as if night conceived something horrible? Why is that? Probably just a slight attack of indigestion. Yes, yes, indigestion.

And yesterday, when I was walking in a forest of rumour... why did it suddenly seem to me that I was being followed... and that someone was walking at my heels, close, quite close to me? He was near enough to touch me, and yet... yet when I turned around, I saw nothing...

Nothing behind me but the path between the tall trees. Horribly empty. Can you explain that by indigestion, can you, huh? Well, here's a bromide. If you'll take it in several cold showers daily, I'm sure your fears will vanish. Yes, I'm sure. And you'll be able to sleep without any further trouble. All right, doctor. Thank you very much. Oh, my God!

Who is there? Just a moment. Just a moment. Yes? Are you all right? What is it, Marie? I'm screaming and calling out. I'm sorry. Wake the servants. I'm offending you. I'm having a nightmare, Marie. Look, if you dreamed that someone was looking at you and touching you and taking your neck in his hands and squeezing it, squeezing it,

squeezing with all his might in order to strangle you. Don't you think you would cry out too, huh? Yes, sir, I'm sure I should. You see, all right, just tell the other servants I shall try to be more quiet. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Good night. Hey, look. Look, Marie, my water carafe. Your water carafe, monsieur? Yes, it was full. I knew it was full when I went to bed. Yes, sir, I filled it last night. Yes, and now it's empty.

I haven't touched it and it's empty. Yes, sir. Somebody has drunk the water. Somebody has been in this room. Somebody...

drank that water. I don't know who could have, sir, unless perhaps you yourself in your sleep. Yes, yes, I myself in my sleep. Of course, that's it. I must have done it myself. Marie, Marie, tell him to pack my things. I'm going to Paris. I'm leaving the first thing in the morning. July 12th.

Paris. Paris, I must have lost my head during the last few weeks. At home, my mental state boarded a madness, for I had believed... Yes, I had believed that an invisible being lived beneath my roof. How stupid, how perfectly ridiculous it all seems now, yes. 24 hours in Paris have completely restored my equilibrium, and...

And tonight I'm going to dine at the house of my cousin, Madame Sablé. And, oh, Dr. Parent is going to be there. He's the famous specialist for nervous disorders. And I shall ask him, and I'm sure he can finally put my mind at rest about this silly hallucination. The End

Dr. Pound, I've been wanting to ask you, have you ever known of a case where a person feels that he is, how shall I put it, not entirely in command of his soul? It is curious that you should ask me that. Why is it curious?

Because now, only now in 1889, after all these years, we are on the verge of discovering one of the most important secrets of nature. What is that? Ever since man has thought, he has felt himself close to a mystery which has been impenetrable to his gross and imperfect senses. Whatever are you talking about, Dr. Parran? Apparitions, my dear Madame Sablé. Invisible spirits. Oh, you doctors. You're always being mysterious. Not at all. For more than a century now...

Men seem to have had a presentiment of something new. Yes. Mesmer and some others have put us on an unexpected track, and we have arrived at really surprising results. Oh, you're just trying to frighten us. Not at all. If you think so, would you like me to try to send you to sleep, madame? It would be a novel experience. Oh.

If you can do it. And if I can, it will answer your cousin's questions. Yes, it certainly will. Now, madam, if you would just sit in this easy chair. Now, you must let your mind go completely blank and look fixedly into my eyes. Yes, that's right. Now, you are going to sleep. To sleep. You're going to sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

You see, her eyes are becoming heavy. Her mouth is twitching. That's incredible. You have nothing but sleep in your mouth. That I don't like, because it frightens me. Sleep, sleep. Here, now she is asleep. An easy subject, I must say. Now, if you will stand directly behind her chair, I will proceed with the experiment. Now, I hand her an ordinary passport visiting card. So, now, Madame Sablé, you hold in your hand a looking-glass. Yes, I am holding a looking-glass.

What do you see in it? I see my cousin standing behind my chair. Doctor, what is he doing? He is twisting his ear. But, Doctor, she cannot see me behind her by looking at a piece of cardboard. No, of course she can't. She sees you through her mind, or someone's mind. This troubles you, doesn't it? Yes, it troubles me. But it answers your question. No, it doesn't.

No, it does not. That's common knowledge, Doctor. It's an axiom that human beings can be dominated by human beings. But what if a human being is dominated by something? By something else, I mean. Something not human. What then, Doctor? August 6th. I'm back at home.

Yes, now I know it's useless to struggle. Useless. Somebody possesses my soul and dominates it. Somebody orders all my acts, all my thoughts. I'm nothing except a slave and a terrified spectator of all I do. Yes, but who is he, this...

This invisible being that rules me. This unknowable spirit. This rover for supernatural rays. He must have a name. I know he has. I feel it. I can feel it. Oh, someday. Someday it will come to me. Oh, if I only could leave my house and go away and escape and never, never return. But...

But it's impossible. This... This being, I cannot call by name. He... He will not let me. I'm helpless. What can I do? What can I do?

In a few moments, Mr. Peter Lorre will bring us the climax of tonight's mystery in the air when camels present act two of the Horla. Experience is the best teacher. Even thousands of years ago, that was an old saying. Today, sports champions like polo star Cecil Smith are living examples of its truth.

Yes, as you see Cecil Smith streak down the field, see him hit a 60-yard backhand shot for the winning goal of the game, you know it takes experience to play polo like that. As Cecil Smith himself said, experience is the best teacher in polo and in cigarettes, too. During the wartime cigarette shortage, I smoked any brand I could get. Experience taught me how much I really appreciate camels.

They suit me to a T. During the wartime cigarette shortage, people smoked whatever brands they could get, remember? Yes, smokers compared the different brands, whether they wanted to or not. People became experts in judging the differences in cigarette quality. And on the basis of that experience, more and more people discovered they preferred the rich, full flavor of camels, the cool mildness of camels.

As a result... More people are smoking camels than ever before. Experience is the best teacher. Try a camel yourself. Now back to de Maupassant's terrifying story of a man obsessed by the idea that he is dominated by an invisible being.

Fear is ruining his life. The suspicion that he is no longer master of his own actions, even of his own soul, is rapidly becoming a certainty. It's only two o'clock and the whole night is before me. Oh, how still it is. And the stars, how bright they are. Who inhabits those faraway regions and what do they know that we do not know?

Will not one of them someday appear on our earth to conquer it? We are so weak, so defenseless. What was that? I heard the rustle of paper. Yet there's no wind. Absolutely no wind. There. It's that book, yes. The one on the table under the lamp. It's incredible. The page has turned. The page lifted itself up and fell down upon the others...

as if a finger had turned it over. My armchair appears empty, but... But no, it isn't. No, he's there. I know he is. Sitting in my place. He's reading.

I can't stand it any longer. I'll grasp him and... He ran away. He ran away before I could reach him. He ran away and... And the window closed after him. He's afraid of me. He's afraid of me. What do you call yourself, you... You evil shade? Whatever it is. Whatever it is. Someday...

Someday I'll catch you and... and crush you! Here! Come in here! What? What? We heard the noise and we wondered. Another nightmare, monsieur. No, it's not a nightmare. I... I was awake. Tell me. Tell me, Marie. Tell me.

Do you believe in invisible things? Invisible? Yes, invisible beings that dominate you. Well, I read an article about that in the paper today. What did it say? That somewhere in Brazil, I think, people are frightened, leaving their houses, seeing the pursuit by invisible beings which feed on their life while they're asleep. Yeah? Like vampires, you know? Maria. Maria. Maria.

That is where he came from. Oh, monsieur. Don't you remember the day we saw that little tug pulling that big Brazilian spoon up the river? Yes. Remember? She looked so white, all white, and he, he was on board. Yes, he came from there where his race originated, and he saw me, and...

And he saw my white house and he sprang from the ship. No, no, Marie, I understand. Don't you? Don't you? No, monsieur, I don't. No, no, you couldn't. It's all right, Marie, go to bed. There's nothing wrong. Don't worry anymore. Go back to sleep. Go.

Yes, now I know. How can I help it, knowing it's obvious? Yes, the rule of man is over, and he has come. He has arrived. But what is his name? What do you call yourself? What's that? No, I know it. He's shouting it out. Yes, yes, I listen. Oh, that's it, yes.

There's the horror. There's the horror. He haunts me. He is within me. He's becoming my soul. I shall kill him. There, monsieur. What? The iron shutters on the windows and door are complete. All right. I don't know why anybody wants half-inch iron shutters in their bedroom. There's more than I can see.

Well, at least it'll keep everything... I don't want to keep things out. I want to keep something in. Hmm? Never mind, never mind. If you're finished, you take your tools and go. My housekeeper will pay you. Yes, monsieur. Good day, monsieur. Good day. Now I'm ready. Yes, tonight he'll come. Tonight I'm ready for him. I'm ready for him. Hmm.

He's here, yes. I feel it at last. He's here, but... Oh, I don't want to alarm him. I'll casually close the iron shutter. So... So casually, as if I'm preparing for bed. Now I'll start to close the iron doors. As if I'm shutting myself in for the night. But...

But instead of shutting myself in, I'll... I'll shut myself out! Yes! Yes, it's down here. He's inside. He cannot escape. Downstairs, downstairs, yes. As fast as I can run. Oh, good, good. The lamp is still burning. Yes, fire. Fire, that'll dispose of him. Fire, fire.

See, the house is dry as tender. Won't take long. See, the flames are reaching the ceiling already. I'd better get out before I burn myself up too. Here, yes. Here, I can watch from here. How slow. How slow the house is burning. Don't you suppose... No. No.

A tongue of flame licking out on the top of the window. And another, and another. See it, girl? My house, my beautiful house, and...

Oh, but it's more beautiful. It's now in flames because he's inside. And he'll burn too, yes. And I'll be free. Free.

Free of the horror! Fire! Fire! The house is on fire! Get some water, somebody! Yes, it's burning! It's burning! Oh, now the whole place is in flames. Nothing! Nothing can stop it! That's Marie, the servants in the garage. She'll be killed! Here, stand back, all of you. The roof's going to cave in. Look, look, look.

Oh, the poor devil's forgot to get some help. Maybe we can get some out of there. It's lighting up the whole countryside. A monstrous, beautiful fuel pile. And he's burning, too. My present. That new being. That new master. The Horlock. Shut up!

The roof has fallen in! The roof has fallen in! It is over. That is the end for him. He's dead. Yes, but... Is he dead? No. No. A spirit would never fear premature destruction. Only we fear it. All our human terror springs from that, and... Well, then, after that... What? What?

The hauler, yes. After us who can die any day by any accident... ...comes he who can die only at his own proper hour. Because he has touched the limits of his existence. No, he's not dead. What can I do? What can I do? There's one thing I can do. I can destroy myself...

Yes. Yes. I must destroy myself. I'm going to destroy. Destroy myself. Destroy. Yes. Let me go. Yes. I know I'm being lured. I know. I know it's a story. I know it's by the Maupassant. Yes. I know it's Thursday night and we are on the air, but...

Oh, I beg your pardon. I'm sorry I got so excited, but I warned you at the beginning. It's a very uncomfortable story. Oh.

Thank you.

Each week, the makers of camel cigarettes send free camels to servicemen's hospitals from coast to coast. This week, the camels go to Veterans Hospital, Northampton, Massachusetts, U.S. AAF Station Hospital, Boca Raton Field, Florida, U.S. Naval Hospital, Bremerton, Washington, U.S. Marine Hospital, Galveston, Texas, and Veterans Hospital, Augusta, Georgia. According to a nationwide survey, more doctors smoke camels than any other cigarette.

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Next week, Mystery in the Air, starring Mr. Peter Lorre, brings you Beyond Good and Evil by Ben Hecht with a special musical score composed and conducted by Paul Barron. ♪♪

Mr. Pipe Smoker, do you know why more pipes smoke Prince Albert than any other tobacco? Well, just try a pipeful, then you'll know. Just taste the extra-rich, full flavor of PA's choice tobacco. See if you don't prefer Prince Albert's cool mildness.

Prince Albert is specially treated to ensure against tongue bite. Crimp cut to burn slow, smoke cool. Yes, Prince Albert is specially made for smoking pleasure. See if you don't enjoy your pipe more with Prince Albert. Be

Be sure to listen to Prince Albert's Grand Ole Opry Saturday night for a half hour of folk songs and humor with Red Foley, Minnie Pearl, Rod Brasfield, and the rest of the Opry gang. And as Red's special guests, those musical Denning sisters. Remember, Prince Albert's Grand Ole Opry, Saturday night over NBC. ♪♪

Listen again next week at this same time when the makers of Camel Cigarettes present Mr. Peter Lorre in Mystery in the Air. Next week's play will be Beyond Good and Evil by Ben Heck. The artists supporting Mr. Lorre tonight were Henry Morgan as the voice of Mystery, Peggy Weber as Marie, Lorene Tuttle as Madame Sablé, Ken Christie as the Doctor, Ben Wright as Dr. Parent, Howard Culver and Jack Edwards Jr. This is Michael Roy in Hollywood wishing you a pleasant good night for Camels.

This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.

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Visit Safeway.com for more details. See you in the aisles. At Merrill West Credit Union, we're working towards a brighter financial future for both our members and our community, knowing that when you succeed, we all succeed. Let's get acquainted with our premier savings for new members, now paying over 20 times the national average.

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, co-workers, neighbors, and others know about the podcast is incredibly valuable to me, my bride Robin, and our cat, Miss 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.

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?

Using more of your volunteers? 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. We are obviously in the grip of a force stronger than we can oppose. 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?

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. Have you ever watched a magician work? A really good sleight of hand artist can pull lighted cigarettes from the air.

is able to saw a woman in half. He can pull a rabbit out of a hat or make a fountain pen disappear. But have you ever seen a magician who could make a 200-pound corpse disappear? Hello, creeps. This is T4Y, opening the doors of the Mystery Playhouse. Our story tonight...

is an imaginative tale called Who Took the Corpse? It was written by D.L. Champion.

The little town of Fernville's only scarlet crime was born of a corncob pipe and grew to the stature of a celebrated case when its corpse vanished. The crime involved three men. One became the corpse, another the killer, and the third lived to record tonight's story. It all started one night in the Palace Bar, where Sid Doughton, the police deputy, watched Fernville's newest resident amuse the mill hands with clever card tricks. ♪

The newcomer was good. He was a magician, a suave, satanic figure in a red-lined cape. He called himself Marvelo. And Marvelo, Sid Doughton noticed as he crowded in to watch, carried his many drinks well. And now, gentlemen, a flip, so, a shuffle, so.

And here is your carefully concealed card, the ace of spades. Now, gentlemen, will the man who was smoking that horrible pipe desist the odors offensive? I guess he means that corn cob of yours, Sid. May I see that pipe, sir? Oh, sure. Let me knock the ashes out first.

Here you are. I placed the horrible object on the bar. So. Then I placed the magic cloth over it. So. What you gonna do, Marvolo? Make it smell like violence? No. No. I will do better than that, my friend. Now a magic word. Dushavi. Dushavi.

Presto a new pipe. Hey, somebody should have made Sid's old pipe disappear a long time ago. Come, sir. Don't you approve a new pipe for an old one? Nope, I like my old one. Let's have it. I'm terribly sorry, sir. I can't bring your old pipe back. It's in a limbo beyond my call. Bartender, another scotch, please. Marvelo! Sir? Give me that pipe.

You, sir, are an individual I dislike. A poor sport. Might be, but I'm a deputy. And also, I think you've had a lot of drinks. And also, I think I ought to take you home. Now, come on. It would be most unwise of you to lay a hand on me, my friend. Yeah, I know. I know. Now, come on. I told you not to lay a hand on me. Hey, look at that. Hey, Sid, what you doing sitting on the floor? Yeah, lots of chairs around. Hey, that's what they call jujitsu, isn't it? Yeah, that's jujitsu. Now, bartender, that scotch, please.

Hello, Sid. Hey, you ate your breakfast off the mantel this morning. I sure did. Well, I guess you heard what happened last night, Chief. Yeah. Say, what the devil are you doing? Rolling your own cigarettes now? Yeah, yeah. Ain't breaking in new pipes, and Marvolo never gave me back my old one. I'm going to the bank now, Lamb. Oh, that's right. It is payroll day at the mill, isn't it?

Oh, hang it, Sid. You used to knock pipe ashes out all over. Now you're spilling cigarette tobacco on me. Oh, I'm sorry, Lamb. I'll see you later. And I'll be at the palace tonight in case the boys rough it up. Yeah. Best deputy in the state, but the untidiest man I've ever seen.

You can tell it's payday, huh, Sid? Yep. Alice is sure busy tonight, Tom. Uh-uh. What? Here comes your pal Marvolo. Gentlemen. Gentlemen, may I have your attention? Gentlemen, please. Thank you. He's gunning for you, Sid. Now shut up, Tom, and listen. Card tricks and feats of magic are merely a profession, gentlemen.

My basic interest is the study of the occult, the black arts. Very few men, gentlemen, have gone as deeply into the forbidden realm of evil as I. Very few men possess my powers. What's he driving at, Sid? I read men's hidden thoughts. I see their souls mirrored in their minds. Tonight, in this room, a man plans murder. That man plans to murder me.

You're all my witnesses. I will point this man out to you by means of this knife. You blasted fool. All right, Marvolo, you asked for it this time. I don't know magic, but this is a .38, and these are handcuffs. And tonight you can study your black books in our jail. No jail and no steel handcuffs can hold Marvolo, you idiot. What do you say we just try it, huh?

See you in court, Marvolo. All right, all right. A little quiet, please.

Next case. Daniel Biggs, alias Marvolo. Where's the defendant? Said Doughton's upstairs getting him out of his cell, Your Honor. Well, what's keeping him? Somebody go up in here. Judge, what's worse? Well, Deputy, where's the defendant? He's gone, Judge.

Gone? What do you mean, gone? Where? Wasn't he in the cell? Oh, he was locked in the cell with handcuffs on. And I locked the outer door, too, but he's gone. Well, that's ridiculous. Any signs of escape? Nope, the door's locked from the inside, and the bars are solid. He's just disappeared into thin air. But I'll find that black devil, Your Honor. But the last thing I do, I'll find... It could very well be the last thing you do, Mr. Doden. Mr. Doden?

Order, order here. How did you get out, Mr. Biggs? Your Honor, how could you expect me to tell you that? The black arts reveal their secrets only to those who keep them. Yes, well, here's a secret the court will share with you. In Fernville, we don't go in for throwing knives around in public places. What is all this grudge between you two, Doughton? Your Honor, this guy has a screw loose somewhere. He goes around thinking that I want to kill him. And so you do.

A half hour after I left the palace the first night I met you, your animal brain had conceived a cowardly plot to murder me and to hide behind your badge of office. That's a lie. I warned you last night, publicly. Today, Dutton, before this court, I warn you that your plan won't work because I am going to kill you first. Boy, you... Hold it, Sid. Slim, did you hear that? Yep. Now look, Marvalo. For that kind of talk, I can arrest you again. For killing, I can hang you.

You got that straight? Hang, Marvolo. My friend, if your deputy doesn't change his mind about murdering me, I will kill him. And you will be powerless to stop me, or to hang me, or even to prove I have committed a crime. Don't trust him, Sid. Keep an eye on him. Yeah, yeah, he's just a nut. Oh, that doesn't bother me, lamb. But I'll watch him.

Hello? This the freight office? Hello, Tom. This is Sid Doughton. Say, did the express stop today? Yeah, that's right. New radio with a phonograph gadget. Sure, I got it for my wife's birthday. Now look, I took a room at the Palace Hotel, room 212. I want to keep it there and try it out. Send it over tomorrow, will you? Yeah.

Now don't forget room 212. Morning, bartender. Oh, hi. I must be your first customer. Yeah, you sure are, Marvlo. It ain't noon yet. Will it be? Double brandy, please. Right, Sharon. Ah, there you are. Say, you don't come around till night, usually. How come you're here so early? Yes, it is unusual, isn't it? But then it isn't every day that...

That one killed the man. Huh? Is it? I'm going to room 212. Hey, that's Stoughton's room. He's up there now. There's no radio. Yes, I know. Huh? How'd you know? It's a secret. How I know is my secret. Hey, you can't... Ah, he's nuts. He wouldn't do that and tell me about it. Sid can handle him anyhow.

In which direction is room 212, please? 212, it's right here, sir. That door over there. Thank you, thank you. Yeah? Marvolo. You can't say I didn't warn you, Doughton. No, you idiot. No, put away that gun. No, you'll hang. Now, don't, Marvolo, don't. Look, what do you want? This is it, Doughton. And after you're dead, they won't be able to bury you because they'll never find your corpse. Ah! Ah! Ah!

I saw him. I saw him do it. I saw him lying right there in the blood. I saw him. I saw him. Yeah, Lem. Yeah. Sure, he's dead. Marvalone? No. He's just standing in front of the room, grinning. Yeah. Yeah, Bill Sanders has got him covered with my shotgun. Yeah. Yeah, we'll hold him. Hurry up, will you? Oh.

All right, here comes the sheriff now. Yeah, there he is. All right, Bill. Take the shotgun out of his ribs. Well, Marv, you weren't bluffing, they tell me. You actually killed Sid. You're the police chief, Mr. Tracy. You expect me to testify against myself? Here's the gun. Thanks. Here you go.

Open the room door, Bill. What's going on here? Somebody being funny? There ain't no one in this room. I saw him. I saw him lying right there, Mr. Tracy. See? See the blood? There's blood, all right. Oh.

The closet's empty. The window's locked on the inside. Sid's radio half out of the crate. Well, Marvolo, where is it? Where is what, Mr. Tracy? Stoughton's body. Search me. I see.

Bill, how long did it take you to get up here after the shots? Long enough to grab the shotgun under the counter and run up the stairs. About three or four minutes. Where was this guy when you got here, Bill? Right where he is now, Chief. Look at you. Outside of being my deputy and a fellow human, Sid Doughton was a good friend of mine. And I can promise you, you'll dance on the end of a rope for this.

Come on, you're under arrest. What for, may I ask? Murder. Murder? But you have no corpse. No corpus delicti. How can you arrest me for murder? I can hold you for 48 hours on suspicion of murder. I should be able to find Sid's body by then. L.M. L.M. the mill just called to see if Sid was here. They're waiting for him to bring the payroll down. Oh. Well, now, isn't that a coincidence? Yes.

Marvolo, you sure picked a fine day for it, didn't you? Now I've got to find a $110,000 payroll as well as a corpus delicti. Well, then, maybe the guy really used magic to get rid of Doughton. As a district attorney, you make a lousy detective, Melton.

You realize I had to turn that killer loose in 12 hours? How about the bullets? Did you find them? Marvolo's gun shows he fired four chambers. It's a .25. That caliber slug stays in a man's body. You searched the palace? Top to bottom. He didn't hide it there. How about his house? Even Superman couldn't carry a corpse over the other end of town and come back in four minutes. But I searched anyhow. The only thing missing was his car. He's got a bill of sales showing he sold it to a dealer who drove it west three days ago. ♪

The End

Okay, Marbalone. You win the first round. I can't hold you any longer. Yes. Well, thank you for your hospitality, Chief Tracy. I think I will leave Fernville. That is, if I may. Sure, sure. You're free until I find Sid's body, that is. Oh, and by the way, you better spend that payroll money you took from Sid fast...

Well, you're going to wind up. It ain't going to be much good to you. Hello, Milton. Yeah, Lamb, what's up? I think I can crack this case. I just got a report on Marvolo's car. I can't make an arrest, of course, but the Chicago police have been able to tail the car, and they've told me where Marvolo is living there. He's apparently been there since he left here four days ago. I'm leaving for Chicago today. ♪♪

Red Cat. Red Cat. Taxi. Taxi. Look, son. I want you to drive me out toward Jarrington Park. There's no farmhouse out there I want to get to. I'll tell you where to drop me off. Okay, Pop. All right, son. Let me off at that crossroad. Don't you want to go to the house you want? No. I want to surprise a friend of mine. Here.

Here, son. Keep the change. Thanks, mister. There it is. Mailbox. Daniel Biggs. And there's Marvolo's car in the driveway. Uh-huh. Yeah, that does it. Good evening, Chief Tracy. Marvolo. Put up your hand. Well, Marvolo, thought you'd be in the house. I'm getting careless, I guess. Yes, very careless, my friend.

I was afraid you might track down my car, but it doesn't really matter. Just keep your hands on site, please. Let's go inside where it's more comfortable, shall we? Believe me, I regret having to do this, Mr. Tracy. Yeah. You'll probably regret it longer than I will. I'll do you one favor, Tracy. As a detective, there are aspects of this case which you might like to know about. Hmm.

I'll answer any one question for you. Just one question, Tracy, before you die. Hmm. That's very thoughtful of you, Marvolo. Not at all. All right. What did you do with Sid's body? Your deputy is... Sid! Sid, don't! Sid!

First time I ever had a corpse save my life, Sid. Sure glad to see you. Tell me what happened, Sid. Sure. Give me a match first. Here you are. Thanks. Well, there's lots of it that I don't know, Lamb.

Marvolo comes in the hotel and fires at me. There's a puff of black smoke from the gun, and I pass out. What then? Well, I don't know where he hid me, but I woke up, seemed like years later, in the trunk compartment of this car. Ant, now that Marvolo's dead, we'll never know how he worked it. How'd you get away from him? Worked the ropes loose this afternoon, hid in the orchard. I knew he'd taken the payroll from us. I saw him nab you, so I waited. Then I moved in. Oh, hang it, Shetton.

Why do you knock your pipe ashes out on floors? I'm sorry, Lem. I forgot. Hey, why are you stopping here, Lem? Well, might as well get some gas. Besides, I got a phone from Chicago police about Marvolo. Door up? Yeah. You got a phone here? Right inside the door. Thank you. Yeah.

Come on, come on. Hello, police headquarters? Give me Deputy Green, please. Hello, Green? This is Tracy from Fernville. Yeah. Say, send that squad car down the turnpike to Lettner's gas station, will you? Yeah, I got them both. The corpse and the killer. Sid! You were listening. Yeah, I was listening. I'd come in behind you. Easy. Don't try anything, Sid. Try anything? Why, I'll blast your way out of it. Oh, oh, oh.

I'm sorry you made me do that, Sid. I'm arresting you for the murder of your partner, Daniel Biggs. Alias Marvolo. That bandage will hold you till the squad car gets here, Sid. Light your pipe if you want it. Oh, thanks. How'd you figure it out, Lamb? Oh, well, I don't believe in magic, Sid. Marvolo had to have an accomplice to get out of jail. You're the only one who could have helped him stage that hokum. That...

Is that all you had to go on? No. No, man has habits, Sid. Little habits, like pipe smoking. Oh? You said you never got your old pipe back from Marlboro. And then you pulled it out when we were in the car. Yeah, I... I forgot, I guess. How do you...

How do you dope out my disappearance? Well, Marvolo probably shot four blanks at you. You cut your arm for the blood. The gal saw you lying there, and she ran out. You went out the window to the roof, and Marvolo locked the window after you. Then I figured you made it to the car outside of town and waited for Marvolo to show up. And, of course, you had that payroll with you, so I found it hidden in Marvolo's car. And by shooting Marvolo? You probably thought he was going to spill the setup to me.

You're right, you know. I wouldn't have had to split the payroll with him. I should have stuck to my old profession, huh, Lem? Yeah, you should have, son. Or you should have stuck to cigarettes. Oh, hang it, Sid. Why didn't you learn not to empty your pipe ashes all over? You're the untidiest guy I've ever seen. I'm sorry, Lem. I forgot. Sorry. Yeah, I'm sorry too, Sid. Mighty sorry. Come on, let's go, son.

Anyhow, this is the first case in history where the corpse becomes the killer and the killer winds up as the corpse. ♪♪ The story was called Who Took the Corpse? This is T4Y closing the doors of the mystery playhouse and saying goodnight, sleep tight. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service. ♪♪

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Another great reason to move your money to a credit union. Learn more at Meriwest.com slash Premier Savings. Meriwest Credit Union, working for you. Today, tomorrow, together. Insured by NCUA. Mr. District Attorney, champion of the people, defender of truth, guardian of our fundamental rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. ♪

Mr. District Attorney is brought to you by Vitalis. V-I-T-A-L-I-S. Vitalis, the famous preparation that keeps your hair well-groomed and used with the speedy 60-second workout, helps you to keep your hair. Friends,

Before we start tonight's dramatic story, I'd like to have a personal word with you. With our country at war, with each and every one of us determined to win this war, our government needs your material support. One way every man and woman can help is through the purchase of defense savings stamps and bonds. Buy a share in America. Buy all the defense savings bonds and stamps you can. This week and every week.

Do your share in helping our country to win. Our story tonight begins in the vaulted echoing galleries of the City Museum in your District Attorney's City. It is shortly past midnight.

And in the lofty Egyptian hall, a single light high on the ceiling casts eerie patterns of black shadow. Suddenly, a phone rings on the desk of the night watchman, rings and shatters the silence of this modern tomb of ancient art.

Hello? Hello? This is Patrick Hawk, night watchman of the city museum speaking. Hello? Hello? Well, don't be answering then. The devil take you for disturbing a man's rest. Now, what in the name of all the tory? Who's that? Stop! Stop in your tractor and shoot! Stop, I tell you!

Oh, no, you don't. Ah, but I do, my friend. No. No. No.

Well, what do you make of it, Chief? No Watchman. No Corpus Delecti. No nothing. I know, Harrington. And we can't tell what's been stolen until the director of the museum gets here. Meanwhile, I want you to search this section of the museum. Yeah, okay, Chief. Okay, I'll take a look around. But the boys from the precinct figured it was probably just some kids got locked in after closing time. That wouldn't account for the disappearance of the night watchman. That's right. Look.

Those bloodstains, eh? And the telephone the police found off the hook. Mm-hmm. And they all seem to indicate he never left the building. No. Yeah, what did you find out about that phone call, Chief? Well, Miss Miller is checking with the telephone company now. But meanwhile, we've got to locate that night watchman. Yeah, or what's left of him. Yes, look in the Egyptian room first, Harrington. That's where the night watchman's desk is. Yeah, okay. Hey.

Hey, Chief, here comes somebody. Oh, yeah. Oh, that's probably Anderson, director of the museum. Oh, yeah. Okay, Chief. If that night watchman's here, I'll find him, dead or alive. How do you do, sir? How do you do? I'm Cornwell Anderson, director of this museum. I'm the district attorney, Mr. Anderson. Oh, how do you do? Exactly what happened here tonight? Well, that's...

That's what I'm hoping you can tell me. Well, Patrick Cork, the night watchman, a devoted and trusted guard of long service, I think he could tell... He's vanished. Vanished? Yes. But how? We don't know.

But tell me, is there anything in this section of the museum that might easily be sold? Oh, my dear sir, the museum is full of priceless relics. Well, yes, of course. But do you know of any particular item that might be marketable? My word, so you think... Well, yes, now that you mention it, yes. Right in the next room, a real collector's prize. Our latest and proudest acquisition. Yes, what is it? A priceless miniature, a Holbein. An exquisite and flawless masterpiece of the golden age of miniature painting.

For a moment I was afraid... Afraid it was stolen? Yes. You see, there was a previous attempt. Where? When? The last spring. Didn't you report it to the police? No, no. It happened in London. In London? Yes. Where the miniature was purchased for us. Oh, yes. I see.

And is this miniature protected by the burglar alarm system? Oh, yes, yes. Even the breaking of the glass was set off the alarm system. Well, then the breaking of the showcase in the other room must have set off the alarm. Yes. Poor Patrick must have seen the intruders, struggled with them. Then suppose you take me to the case where this miniature is kept. Of course. It's right over here in the corner of the room. I see.

Well, there's nothing wrong with this case. No glass broken. No. No, there isn't. Oh, there. There's the miniature. No one has touched it. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes

I think I found the night watchman. Yes, where is he? Right over there in one of them Egyptian coffins, all laid out like an undertaker's done the job. My word, in a mummy case? Mummy case or coffin, he's in there. Which one? The middle one, the one with the dogs and palm trees painted on it. Here. Here, I'll just open it again. Here.

Is he dead? If he ain't, he ought to be. Oh, my word, I... You said it. Oh, boy, this gives me a turn. I'm used to corpses, but this... Hey, Harrington. This man isn't dead. Huh? He's unconscious, but there's pulse action and a faint heartbeat. Well, for the love of Pete, let's get him out of here. No, he may be suffering from internal injuries. Phone for an ambulance. Yeah, right, Chief, right. We're getting somewhere. Oh, poor Patrick, why...

What could have happened? You see that red welt around his throat? Why, yes. Extraordinary. Oh, not at all. This wasn't the work of mischievous boys or amateurs, Mr. Anderson. This man was strangled by an expert. Oh.

Well, Chief, it certainly looks like this museum robbery was planned by some very clever crooks. It was extremely clever, Miss William. We're not dealing with thugs and gunmen. No. Any word from Harrington yet this morning? Oh, yes. He's on his way down here to the office. And he says something about Scotland Yard, Chief. I wonder what he could have... Yes, this case has an international angle. See, Anderson, the director of the museum, tells me there was an attempt to steal a prized miniature shortly before it was purchased in London. But, Chief, there was a previous attempt...

Won't it be hard to check the Scotland Yard, but with the war and the heavy cable traffic? Yes, but fortunately, a yard inspector is over here now on other business. I met him just a few nights ago. His name is Essex. Oh, yes, yes, I've heard of him. I'm having Harrington check with me. Oh, that sounds like Harrington, Chief. He always slams doors. Hello, Chief. Hello, Miss Miller. Hello. Well, it seems Anderson of the museum got a bum steer about that there miniature, Chief. How so?

Well, according to the Scotland Yard inspector, they had a man watching the miniature and other things from the time they arrived from Amsterdam until it was shipped over here. Yes, and what happened? Well, nothing. Not a thing, Chief?

You mean to say there was no attempt to steal it? Not a ghost of a snatch. Chief, this case is beginning to go soft. Things are stolen and they ain't stolen. Guys are dead, laid out in a coffin. The next thing you know, they're up walking around. And there's a woman in the case, Harrington. A woman? Wouldn't you know it. No wonder nothing makes sense. What?

Where does she fit in? She made the telephone call to the museum just before the watchman was strangled. Well, who is she? Where'd you pick her up? She made the call from a pay phone in a drugstore. Well, we haven't picked her up. And we haven't enough of a description to broadcast an alarm. Harrington lets you and I go back to the museum. And, Miss Miller... Yes, sir? I've jotted down a list of questions here, and I'd like to have the answers as quickly as possible. So phone Mr. Williams, chairman of the board of the city museum. Right away, Chief. ♪♪

Hello? Oui, this is Pierre Joliet. Oh, oui. It was unfortunate. Well, we must wait. Oh, but no. The museum will be guarded extra well in the night. What? Today is this afternoon? But c'est impossible. It does not matter if you are pressed for the money. But...

But, monsieur, I tell you. Ah, mais oui. Very clever. They would not expect such a move. You have missed your calling, monsieur. Yes? Who is it? Be quiet, even a moment. It is only my confederate, monsieur. And your plan is good. And I shall not fail this time. Now be at your homes this afternoon and have the money ready.

Au revoir, monsieur. Yvonne, how many times must I tell you? Pierre, you are not going to try again. The police will not be expecting it. But last night you almost killed a man. Many times I have almost killed Yvonne, but never yet. You think you are so very smart. But one day you will hold the silken cord a moment too long and someone will die. The use of the silken garrote is a fine art, ma chérie.

I, I am master of that art. Even so, why can we not wait? The radio and the newspapers report it will sleet and snow this afternoon. The museum will be deserted. By tonight, we will have the money. I do not like this. You must do your part this one more time. You must talk to the guard. Keep him interested. Now, where is my cane?

Tell it to me, Yvonne. The cane? You mean the sword cane? Yes, certain. The noisy gun, it is not for me. You are a fool, Pierre. Do as I say, Yvonne. Bring the cane or I get it myself. And I use it on you. The End

Boy, this here museum's nearly as creepy by daylight as it was last night, Chief. Oh, I was meaning to ask you, how come you stopped so long at the police lab? I was having the chief chemist prepare something that may prove to be a solution to this case, Harrington. Well, now that we're... Well, for the love of my...

or patrick or question k a lot of watchman afternoon to you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that you know that

Did Mr. Anderson transfer you? No, no, it was his assistant. Mr. Anderson's off home for the day with the cold. Huh?

Hey, he didn't have no cold at one o'clock this morning. Well, I was hoping to get some further information on the history of the Holbein miniature from him. Well, now, his assistant, Miss Jones, might be after having it, sir. There's a pamphlet. Yes, that might do. Go get one of those pamphlets, Harrington. Yeah, okay, Chief. Right. Well, hello, Miss Miller. What brings you here at 90 miles an hour? No time for that now, Harrington.

Chief I have the information good man just minutes better hanged yet you get that pamphlet from the assistant director right away Well the whole first door to the right. Yeah, thanks. What are we now then? Let's have that report miss here our chief your hunch was more than right Yes, so it would seem

Oh, Miss Miller, this is Patrick Court, the watchman who was nearly strangled to death last night. Oh, hello, Mr. Court. You had a lucky escape. How do you do, Miss Miller? Sure, and as thankful I am to be alive this day. I should say. Well,

Well, Chief, what do you make of the report? It's pretty much what I'd expected to have confirmed. Do you have the key to the showcase guarding the Holbein miniature cork? I have that, Mr. District Attorney. Good. Open the case, William. Open the case, yes. Well, now, I don't rightly know, sir. Well, I'll have to disconnect the alarm system first. That'll be quite all right. Well, if you say so, sir. I'll disconnect the wire here at the switch. Uh.

Would you be wanting to take the miniature out, sir? No. No, I'm not even going to touch the miniature myself. Well, let everybody just try to touch it. I'm itching to get my hands on the devil that came across to choking me to death. Oh, just a minute, Cork. And now get this straight. If anyone, anyone tries to steal this miniature, don't raise a hand to stop them. But... Now remember, don't try to stop them. Oh.

Come on, Yvonne. It is almost closing time and we must act quickly. The museum is deserted. Pierre, this may be a trap. Nonsense. It is sleeting. That is why no one is here and it is perfect.

Now, go talk with the guard. Get him away from the miniature case. Into the Egyptian room. And give me time to cut the glass. Suppose the alarm goes off as it did last night. Even so, there is only the guard. I will take care of him. There he comes. Engage him in conversation for me.

Get him away from here. Oh, watchman, I beg your pardon. Oh, good afternoon, miss. What can I do for you? I came to see the Egyptian collection. Where is it? Well, right down the hall, miss, around the corner to your left. Can you not take me there? Oh, that I can. And the gentleman, too. Oh, I beg your pardon. The young lady and I are not together. Oh, I see.

And what would you be wanting to see? Nothing in particular. You wouldn't be interested in miniatures now, would you? Please, monsieur, take me to the Egyptian room. Well, I can't now. Speak up, man. Let me hear your voice again. What is my voice to you? It is the same. You tried to steal that miniature last night. You tried to strangle me. You come along with me. Pierre, the old man has recognized you.

Yes, so he has. That's what I have, all right. Now, come along. Not now. I have another idea. Pierre, you have killed this old man. I have merely destroyed a witness. Come, Yvonne. Now we will get the miniature. Come.

Well, Patrick Cork has ignored your district attorney's warning. We'll learn the outcome and hear the surprising developments of this case in just a moment. But first, men, I think you'll agree that the quick way to succeed in your business is to look successful.

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Oh, Chief. Yes? Sergeant Goshen of the 4th Precinct is on the phone. He's calling from the museum. That's all right. I'll take it here. Hey, I'll bet you the trap sprung, Chief. Hello? Worse than that, Harrington. Hello, Sergeant. Yes? What? The miniature is gone? The cork is injured? What? Seriously? Yes.

Yes, well, get him to the hospital. Get him the best specialist in the city. Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can. Yes, all right. Goodbye. What happened, Chief? I thought you told the old geezer to lay off. Yes, I did. I should have known a man can't forget a lifetime of training in an emergency. He tried to stop the thieves. A man and a woman with a French accent. And got strangled again. No, Harrington. This time the thief used a cane saw. Ran him through. What?

Well, what are we waiting for, Chief? They've grabbed the bait. Let's go get them. Come into the study, sir. Thank you. Thank you. Was it necessary to bring your wife to my home? Yes, sir. We are leaving the city immediately, Monsieur Anderson. Monsieur, give us the money and let us go quickly. Why? Why are you in such a hurry? What happened at the museum? Did you bungle again? No, this time I have the miniature. But unfortunately... Unfortunately what?

Unfortunately, the watchman recognized me and tried to prevent our escape. Oh, how could he? Cork is on the night shift. It would seem that he was transferred to the day shift. Ah, yes, it would. Did you use that silk cord again? No. I had only my cane saw. You murdered the guard? There was nothing else to do. Well, you shouldn't have come here after doing a thing like that.

I have no intention of getting mixed up in a murder. It is too late for that, monsieur. You are mixed up with us. And if we are caught, you also will pay for the crime. I have your $5,000. Give me the miniature. I beg your pardon, monsieur. Now we need $10,000. Yes, though there is a little more expensive. You agreed to sell the miniature for five. I haven't $10,000 and I can't raise it.

How much money have you, Monsieur Anderson? $5,000. That's all I agreed to pay, and that's all you'll get. Pierre, we are wasting time. Take the money and let us get out of here. Here is the miniature. Now, where is the money? The money is in my private safe over here. Ah, a private vault for all their treasures.

This is not the first time you have robbed your museum. That is my business. It seems practice in crime has steeled your nerves, monsieur. Pierre, someone is at the door. Who are you expecting? Is this some trick, monsieur? I'm not expecting anyone. The

The servants are off, and I'll have to answer the door. My car is out front. Whoever it is will know I'm at home. Then go to the door. Get rid of them. Oh, it may be some friend. I'll have to admit for a moment. Here, you must hide. Get in the vault, quickly, both of you. Don't be ridiculous, monsieur. Hurry, get in that vault. Oh, here, here, take this miniature with you. We have no intention of getting into your vault.

It would kill us both. For once, Yvonne, you are right. However, we will take the miniature. I have no time to argue with you. You involved me in one murder. It is a trap. He has a gun. A trap or not, get in that vault. It all depends on how badly you bungled. If it's the police, if they followed you here... Get in, do you hear me, madam? You wouldn't dare use that gun, monsieur. Wouldn't I? I think you would, Yvonne. Come. You know I would. Get in that vault.

♪♪

Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson. Mr. District Attorney. Yes, and my secretary and assistant, Miss Miller. How do you do, Mr. Anderson? How do you do? Mind if we come in? The snow is rather wet. Of course, of course. Thank you. I suppose you're here for some more information about the Holbein miniature.

A miniature has been stolen, Mr. Anderson. What? Why, how did it happen? Have the police any clues? Oh, yes. Yes, there were quite a number of clues.

Oh, I see you have a nice fire going in your study. Suppose we talk in there. Oh, yes, yes, of course. This is terrible. I want to help in every way I can. Mr. Anderson, you're so pale. Are you sure your cold hasn't turned to grip? No, I don't think so. Perhaps you'd like a drink. I know this must be very upsetting for you. Yes, I believe I will. Oh, will you join me? The whiskey is right here. Or rye, if you prefer. Some soda? Thank you. Thank you.

But if you don't mind, I'll have a plain glass of water. Oh, yes, of course, of course. Well, that'll be enough water, thank you. Oh, I... Plumsy of me. I've spilled the water all over your hands. Quite all right, no harm. Chief, you're all right. Look at Mr. Anderson's hands. What about my hands? Look at them, Anderson. Why, they're turning purple. He's had the miniature in his hands, Chief. It must be somewhere in this house. What's the meaning of this? What are you talking about? How dare you insure... Save your indignation, Anderson.

Where is the man with the French accent and his woman accomplice? I don't know. I know nothing about them. We'll get them. The guard described them. Well, then catch them. Why come here and accuse me? Your tell-tale hands. You've had the miniature in your hands. That's a lie. This purple in my hands means nothing. It isn't proof of anything. Sufficient proof to place you under arrest, Mr. Anderson. Arrest? You're going to arrest me? Yes. And

And on the basis of evidence I already have, I'll get a warrant to search this house for the many of them. You can't. You have no right. A perfectly legal right. Well, will you come with us of your own free will? Or must I call in my special investigator and have him handcuffed? Handcuffed? Oh, no. I'm not going and you won't take me. Chief, he's carrying a gun. Yes, so I see.

Better hand over that gun, Anderson. It's rather late in life for you to start making murder your business. Don't make me kill you. I'm getting away, that's all. Now, don't follow me. I'm going to get away. You ain't going nowhere. All right, Harrington, not too rough with him. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can. Boy, did I have a time getting in the back window. But I didn't do it. I didn't tell him to kill poor old Cork. I'm not to blame. You're a pretty cold-blooded man, Mr. Anderson. But a judge and jury will decide that.

And I think I know how they'll decide. Oh, Harrington, just as soon as you've got the handcuffs on him, come over here to this vault. I think that's where we'll find Mr. Anderson's two companions in crime. Before your district attorney tells you when and why he first suspected Anderson and the means he used to prove his guilt, here's a special message for every woman listening in tonight.

Now, you want your husband or your sweetheart to do all he can to keep the hair he has, don't you? Then tell him about Vitalis and the famous 60-second workout. Yes, tell him to use Vitalis and the speedy 60-second workout because it helps a man to keep the hair he still has. For you see, men, the easy Vitalis workout helps in four different ways, four very important ways. It loosens up your tight, dry scalp and really gives your hair a chance. It

It stimulates the circulation. It routes unsightly loose dandruff. And it helps prevent excessive falling hair. So, men, why don't you start using Vitalis and have good-looking, well-groomed hair every day? Use Vitalis in that easy, speedy workout and let it help you to keep the hair you still have.

Ask your druggist for a bottle of Vitalis tomorrow or even tonight.

And now, here is your district attorney. Well, ladies and gentlemen, fortunately, Patrick Cork did not die. But Anderson, Pierre, and Yvonne were tried, convicted, and received long prison sentences for their crimes. Chief, I think it was grand you knew Pierre and Yvonne were in that safe. Well, muddy footprints leading to the vault gave me that clue. Oh, and Chief, hadn't you better tell our audience why you suspected Anderson? Yes. Why?

His one simple lie caused us to investigate him. We soon discovered other art treasures had vanished from the museum and had been unreported. We learned that the city trustees were investigating and had already given Anderson a notice of dismissal as of January 1st. That and a need of money prompted him to take one last desperate chance. Yeah, Chief, and the trap you set for him was something.

Boy, you sure caught him purple-handed. Yes, Harrington. And that was simply a matter of sprinkling the miniature with an almost invisible aniline powder dye, which causes the hands of anyone touching it to turn purple if they come in contact with water. What about next week, Chief? Well, next week, ladies and gentlemen, we again have quite a different case and one of the most baffling sagas of double murder this office was ever called upon to solve.

The Case of the Bittersweet. So don't miss The Case of the Bittersweet at the same time next week. Until then, thank you and good night. And remember, buy defense savings bonds and stamps.

The names of all characters in tonight's dramatization are fictitious and any resemblance to names of living persons or actual places is purely coincidental. Jay Justin was featured in the title role, Len Doyle as Harrington, Vicki Volley as Miss Miller. The music was under the direction of Peter Van Steeden and the author was Jerry McGill.

Mr. District Attorney is brought to you by the Bristol Myers Company, makers of Vitalis, the largest selling preparation of its kind for keeping your hair well-groomed. Just think of the word vital and add I-S. Vitalis. Vitalis for your hair. This is the Red Network of the National Broadcasting Company.

At Merrow West Credit Union, we're working towards a brighter financial future for both our members and our community, knowing that when you succeed, we all succeed. Let's get acquainted with our premier savings for new members, now paying over 20 times the national average. Another great reason to move your money to a credit union. Learn more at merrowwest.com slash premier savings. Merrow West Credit Union, working for you. Today, tomorrow, together.

Insured by NCUA. At Merrill West Credit Union, we're working towards a brighter financial future for both our members and our community, knowing that when you succeed, we all succeed. Let's get acquainted with our premier savings for new members, now paying over 20 times the national average. Another great reason to move your money to a credit union. Learn more at MerrillWest.com slash premier savings. Merrill West Credit Union, working for you today.

Tomorrow, together, insured by NCUA. Murder at midnight. Good evening. What? Who are you? I beg your pardon? I said, who are you? What are you doing here? My name is Gabriel. I am butler to the Holloways. Gabriel? But you, you can't be...

Well, you're... You're dead.

Midnight, the witching hour when the night is darkest, our fears the strongest and our strength at its lowest ebb. Midnight, when the graves gape open and death strikes. How? How?

You'll learn the answer in just a minute in The House That Time Forgot. And now, Murder at Midnight. Tales of mystery and terror by Radio's Masters of the Macabre.

Our story by Sigmund Miller is The House That Time Forgot. Early evening on a desolate part of the Virginia coast, along a road near the beach comes a car with two people in it. I guess we've done enough looking for today, Eva. Oh, it's really beautiful country around here, dear.

Wild and lovely. Darling, if we can't find a house, perhaps we should buy some land and build. We'd better start back to town. It's getting dark. I think we're in for a storm. Oh, look, Fred. Look at that house we're coming to. Oh, isn't it a beauty? Oh, yeah. Nobody that owns that one would want to sell it. Drive slowly, dear. I'd like to take a good look at it. All right.

There's a for sale sign. Yeah? This house for sale. See Mr. Cecil Smith, Westfield, Virginia. Oh, that's interesting. Well, let's drive in there, into the grounds. Oh, we can come back tomorrow, Evie. It's really starting to blow up. But it'll only take a minute. I've just got to have a close look. All right, but we're going to get caught in the rain. I'll back in to save time. Watch the fenders on that side. All right, dear, I will. Come ahead. Am I clear? Okay, you're all right. Fine.

Ah, there's a light in one of the gable windows. I guess somebody's home. It's beautiful, Fred. Simply magnificent. The grounds look a little neglected, though. Grounds? Who cares about that? Go ahead and knock. Okay. I wish they'd hurry. We're going to get caught in a storm. Oh, don't worry about it. They don't seem to answer, do they? Try knocking again. Hmm.

That's odd. Must be somebody home. We saw a light in the window. Maybe they can't hear us. Let's try calling them. Hello there. Hello. That's very strange. Yeah. What? I hear something. Listen. It's a clock striking. Let's try the door. It's not locked. What do you think? Well, let's go in. Hmm.

It's a big place, but lovely. Wait a minute. Anybody home? If there is, they can't hear us or don't want to. Come on, dear. We'll come back tomorrow. Place needs fixing up, but it's worth fixing. Shall we take it? Well, I don't know, Eva. We'll talk to the agent in Westfield and then, well, we'll see.

So, you're interested in buying the Holloway house? Yes, Mr. Smith. It's just the kind of house we've been looking for. It's a fine place, all right. Even got a private inlet to moor a large-sized boat. It's got everything except...

Except what, sir? Well, it's only fair that I tell you all its defects. What defects, Mr. Smith? You see, Mrs. Jordan, it's kind of hard to put your finger on it.

There's something very queer about the house. Huh? Oh. You mean it's haunted? Well, I don't know exactly, Mr. Jordan. No one has seen a ghost there yet. Well, we don't mind ghosts, do we, Fred? No, no, we don't believe in them. Well, I didn't say it was haunted, but, well, people say that the house is alive, that it has a life and a will of its own. A life...

Well, I don't know what you mean. I've had four caretakers in the Holloway house since I took possession of it, and none of them stayed more than a few days. Well, why did they quit? I don't know. They didn't see any ghosts or apparitions, but they all felt the same way, that the house was alive.

Every one of them. Oh, well, there must have been something that scared them away. Well, I'd better tell you the whole story. Yes, we'd like to. Please do. The house originally belonged to Richard Holloway. Seven years ago, in 1939, Richard and his wife Diana went on a short cruise in their yacht, the Viking Second. That's an interesting name, isn't it? They never came back. Oh, really?

They had two friends visiting them who refused to go with them. The strangest part about it is that these friends warned them that they'd never return alive from the cruise. The Holloways laughed at them. Oh, well, how did they know, these friends, that the Holloways wouldn't come back? I don't know. Nobody knows. Well, did you talk to these friends? No, I never saw them.

I only know about it through John Gabriel. He was the Holloway's butler. He's been dead for two years now. As a matter of fact, even Gabriel didn't know these friends. He'd never seen them before. It's a mystery that I've thought about for years. I'm afraid it's going to be a mystery forever. Very interesting, but we'd still like to buy the house. Mr. Smith...

There was a light shining in one of the windows when we were there yesterday. We also heard a clock chiming. That's funny.

No one's been inside that house in over a year. Huh? Uh, Eva, perhaps we ought to think this over. Oh, nonsense, darling. You're not going to let some old wife's tail bother you, are you? No, no. But how could a clock still be going if no one's been in that house for a year? Well, there's a lifebuoy not far from the house. You might have mistaken it for the clock. Now, you see, everything has a logical explanation. Yeah, what about the light in the window? Well, it was probably a reflection from the sun or something. Well, it was probably a reflection from the sun.

We'd like to take the house, Mr. Smith. Well, if you wanted, I'd be glad to sell it to you. I just thought it fair to tell you all about it, so if anything happens, you can't blame me. Well, here we are, darling. Our house. I hope we'll like it. Oh, of course we will. Let's go in. Do you have the key, dear? Yes, but we don't need it. The door was open, remember? Oh, yes, yes, that's right.

Hey. It's locked again. Oh, Mr. Smith must have locked it. There you go. There you go, dear. Well, look. Hmm? Darling, everything clean. Dusted. Why, it's spotless. Oh, now, Mr. Smith really is a dear. Hey, it looks lived in, doesn't it? I told you we'd like it. I suppose. Hmm. He also put flowers around. He does smell of flowers. Roses.

But let's look around. Bright-looking kitchen, isn't it, Fred? Yeah. And this wonderful big refrigerator. And it's full of food. No. Fresh food. Oh, that Mr. Smith, why, he thought of everything. Oh, the bedroom is even bigger than I thought. Look at the beds. What? Someone has slept in them.

That man Mr. Smith sent to clean the house must have slept in it. Yes, and he apparently slept in both beds. This library. Darling, look at that paneling. Yeah, it's a very lovely room. Everything is charming. But... But what? Look at the fireplace. Well, what's wrong with the fireplace? Is there... Is just some half-burnt logs in it? Yes, just some half-burnt logs.

Still smoldering. Well, it was the cleaning man. I don't think there was a cleaning man. Now, don't be absurd, Fred. The clock we heard the first time we were here...

Eva, I just can't shake off the feeling that someone is still living here. You're being ridiculous. Maybe I am, but I feel like an intruder. Darling, it's that story Mr. Smith told us about the Holloways and their mysterious friends. It's got you all keyed up. Well, I'm going to call Mr. Smith and find out about that cleaning man you think he sent here. Operator.

Oh, operator, give me Westfield 403. You're really being a fusspot, Fred. Yeah, we'll see. Oh, hello, Mr. Smith? Yes? This is Fred Jordan. Oh, hello, Mr. Jordan. How's everything up at Holloway? Oh, everything seems fine. Thanks for having the house cleaned up. Cleaned up? I don't understand you. Didn't you send a cleaning man to straighten up the house? No, Mr. Jordan. The house was sold as is.

I never sent anyone over. Might interest you to know we found the house in a spotless condition, cleaned and ready for occupancy. Oh. Thank you, Mr. Smith. I'll be in touch with you later. Such a lovely night, darling. I'm glad we came out. Yeah, we'd better go back to the house. Oh, yeah.

Now, please don't be upset. There must be some logical explanation. Maybe... Maybe somebody took advantage of a boarded-up house and was living in it rent-free. I'd like to correct you, dear. Someone is still living in it besides ourselves. Sometimes, Fred, you get very ridiculous. Maybe. Let's go back inside. Look. What?

There's a fire burning in the fireplace. Well, now, what's wrong with that? I haven't touched this fireplace since we got here. You didn't. Look, the table is set for tea. Did you do this? No, I... I didn't. The teapot is hot. Somebody... Somebody must be here, hiding. If they are, I'll... I'll find them. Come on. I...

I don't understand it. I just... Cellar to attic and there's no one here. But it's incredible. Someone is living here and we can't see them. It doesn't make sense. There's somebody here right now. Right in this room. It sounds crazy, but I know it. Fred. What? The clock. What about it? It just struck midnight and it's...

It's only ten o'clock. A house that is deserted except for invisible tenants and a clock that is running backwards as it just struck twelve for... Murder at Midnight.

And now, back to Murder at Midnight and The House That Time Forgot. Fred? Fred, wake up. Get up. What? What is it, dear? What's the matter? Look out there, out the window. Why? Get up and take a look. No...

That what? That boat out there in the inlet? It must have put in while we were sleeping. Can't you read the name, dear? Huh? It's the Viking Second. The Viking Second? Yes. Wasn't that the Holloway's yacht? The one that never came back? That's what Mr. Smith said. Either Mr. Smith is a fantastic liar or something very fantastic is happening to us. Perhaps the Holloway's have finally come back. After seven years? It doesn't make sense. None of it. That's putting it mildly. Darling, we...

We ought to take a close look at the boat. You don't sound very enthusiastic about it, but yes, I suppose we ought to. Whoever's on it might be able to tell us something. The plane plant is down. Somebody must have come off the boat. They couldn't have, dear. At least they didn't come up to the house. Well, let's go up and see. All right.

There's no one on deck. Anyone here? No answer. Maybe they're down below. They must be. I'd rather not go down there. We've got to find out. Let's both go down together. All right. You keep right behind me. Don't worry, dear. I will. Here's the stateroom. There's nobody here either.

Anybody here? No one. At least... But the beds are still warm. Somebody just left the stateroom a little while ago. It seems so. Let's get out of here, Eva. I've got a peculiar feeling down my spine. It is chilly. We'd better go back to the house. Come on.

The lights are on in the living room. Did you put them on? Just one of the lamps, a floor lamp. Well, all the ceiling lights are lit. I can see that, dear. Let's go in. Here. The door's locked. We didn't even close it when we went out. No. I remember. We left it open.

Good evening. Who are you? I beg your pardon? I said, who are you? I'm John Gabriel, butler to the Holloways. Gabriel? That's right, ma'am. Whom do you wish to see? We don't want to see anyone. We live here. I'm afraid you're mistaken, sir. The Holloways live here, have been living here for years. But this is our house. We bought it. And the Holloways are dead. Dead? Yes.

I'm afraid someone has misinformed you. This is like a nightmare. Look here, Gabriel, or whoever you really are. We bought this house from Cecil Smith, a real estate agent in Westfield. He's not the kind of a man who plays practical jokes. No, he's not. He's a very sober man indeed. He told us you were dead too. As you can see, madam, I'm very much alive. Oh, this is crazy. We'd better talk to the people who call themselves the Holloways. Perhaps you should. They'll be in any minute. Please come in, won't you?

Will you excuse me if I close the windows? We're going to have a storm. Perfectly all right.

Would you care for some tea? Look here, Gabriel. We've been waiting an hour for Mr. Holloway and his wife. They haven't shown up, and I don't think they will. Now, just what is your game? Would you care for some tea, Mrs. Jordan? No, thank you. Did you hear what I said? Yes, sir, I did. As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Holloway arrive, I'm sure you'll be convinced of your error. They should be here any minute since they plan to leave tonight on a cruise. This is mad fantastic. Ah, they've come. Just missed the storm, Gabriel. Oh.

Oh, hello. I don't believe I know you. This is Mr. and Mrs. Jordan. Mr. and Mrs. Holloway. Oh, I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Jordan. Mr. Jordan. Well, thank you. Are you Richard Holloway? Yes. I can't believe it. It's all terribly confusing, Mr. Holloway. These people claim that this is their house. What? That they bought it from Cecil Smith. They also claim that you, Mrs. Holloway, and myself are dead. Somebody's playing some kind of a joke on them. I'd say it was a very unpleasant joke, Dick.

We've been living here for years and years, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan. Oh, before I forget, Gabriel, get our suitcases aboard the yacht, will you? We'll be leaving in a few minutes. Yes, sir, right away. Fred, do you suppose that maybe we're dreaming this? Well, if we are, we're dreaming it together. I'm sorry, I don't know how this happened to you. Perhaps you'd better stay here for the night. There's plenty of room. And we'd be delighted to have you. Would you mind if I called, Mr. Smith? Oh, please do. The phone's right there on the table. I know, thanks.

Operator, let me have Westfield 403. Never. Hello, Mr. Smith? That's right. This is Mr. Jordan. Who? Fred Jordan. Remember, you sold me the Holloway house. The Holloway house? Yes. You must be mistaken. I never sold it. That property's not for sale.

Who are you talking about? Who is this? Listen, Mr. Smith, you know very well who I am. You won't get away with this. I'll have you brought into court now. I never heard of you in my life. You must be crazy. Goodbye. Hello. Hello. Hello.

He hung up. What did he say? He said he'd never sold the house and he'd never even heard of me. You must have been taken in by someone who posed as Mrs. Smith. That's really a shame. You have to be very careful these days. We'd be glad to have you stay here until you find other quarters. Well, I... As a matter of fact, you can stay for a few days until we get back. We're taking a trip on our boat. Perhaps you'll be able to get it all straightened out in the morning. I just don't understand it.

The Mr. Smith we had dealings with wasn't a crook. I know he wasn't. That was my feeling, too, but I... You're not very loud to see in this kind of weather. Oh, we don't mind a little rain. My husband's a very good sailor, Mrs. Jordan. He can handle the Viking second in any kind of weather. It sounds like a gale coming up. We like them.

Exciting. Well, it's dangerous to set out in this weather. Very dangerous. Oh, now, don't worry about us. We don't drown easily. Darling, we'd better get started. Oh, yes, yes. I'm all set. Are the suitcases aboard? Yes, Gabriel took them. Something's wrong with your grandfather clock. It only struck eight times.

Yes, it's correct. Now, my watch says 8 o'clock, too. Well, how can that be? It's after midnight. You really are mixed up, Mr. Jordan. It's only 8 o'clock. Well, my watch says 1.30. Well, so does mine. I'm afraid ours is right, Mrs. Jordan. It's very old, but very accurate. Of course, there's a legend about it. The story is that it will sometimes go backwards in time. There's...

Has that ever happened? No. No, it's only a story. It's never gone anything but forward, like any other clock. But it's a nice story, isn't it? Yes. Yes, delightful. Might even be true. Mrs. Holloway. Yes? What is today's date? What? I believe it's September 10th. What year? 1939, of course. 19...

Thirty-nine? Yes, yes, of course, Fred. Mrs. Holloway, I'd like to ask you and Mr. Holloway something. Yes? Please, please don't go out on this trip you're planning. Why not? Because if you do, I don't think you'll ever come back. What?

What a terrible thing to say. Please, Mrs. Holloway, please. I don't know what's wrong with you two. You came in here with a strange story about owning my house, and now you tell us we're never going to come back. She's right. You won't come back. You'll pardon me for saying so, Mr. Jordan, but I think you're both crazy. I don't care what you think, but please don't go. Why, Mrs. Jordan? I have a hunch about it. We don't believe in hunches. Well, it's more than a hunch, Mr. Holloway. I know you're not coming back. If you'll excuse us, I think we'd better get started.

Come along, darling. I'm ready. I've put everything on board. Is there anything else, sir? Yes. Just take care of our guests. So that they're comfortable. Goodbye, Gabriel. Goodbye. A pleasant voyage. Make yourself at home and we'll be back. Despite your hunches. Oh, you mustn't go. Please. Oh, I... They've gone. If you wish you can occupy the master bedroom, I'll go up and make it ready for you.

Was there anything else you wished, Mr. Jordan? Ma'am? No, Gabriel. Just go to bed. We'll sit here for a while. It's rather late, sir. Nearly midnight. By your clock, Gabriel, but it seems to have stopped. So it has. It needs rewinding. It's going now. Yes. Seems to be ticking rather fast. Something's wrong. It never did that before. Ben! Ben!

Something's happening. Switch them on, Fred. As soon as I find the switch. What happened? I don't know. Maybe the storm. Lightning. Where's Gabriel? Gabriel. Gabriel. Never mind, dear. Can't you find the switch? Here it is.

Fred! Fred! All that dust. Like the first time we saw the house. It's as if no one had been here for years. Where's Gabriel? There is no Gabriel. We're back in 1946. And that means he's dead. You mean the clock did go backwards? Something else. You understand too now, don't you?

We were the friends that Mr. Smith told us about. The mysterious friends that urged the Holloways not to go on that trip. Yes, Fred. What? The clock has stopped. Well, it needs rewinding. No, no, no, don't touch it. We won't wind that clock again, ever. A house without tenants except for the dead. And the clock that runs backward in time...

If it was your clock, would you wind it? Or are you afraid it would keep you up nights while you waited for it to strike twelve for... Murder!

At midnight.

Remember to be with us again when death comes out of the past, out of time gone by, and the clocks strike twelve for... Murder at Midnight.

The Jordans, husband and wife, were played by Vinton Hayworth and Elsie Hitz. With music by Bert Berman, Murder at Midnight was directed by Anton M. Leder. ♪♪

♪♪♪

At Merrow West Credit Union, we're working towards a brighter financial future for both our members and our community, knowing that when you succeed, we all succeed. Let's get acquainted with our premier savings for new members, now paying over 20 times the national average. Another great reason to move your money to a credit union. Learn more at merrowwest.com slash premier savings. Merrow West Credit Union, working for you today, tomorrow, together.

Insured by NCUA. At Merrill West Credit Union, we're working towards a brighter financial future for both our members and our community, knowing that when you succeed, we all succeed. Let's get acquainted with our premier savings for new members, now paying over 20 times the national average. Another great reason to move your money to a credit union. Learn more at merrillwest.com slash premier savings. Merrill West Credit Union, working for you today.

Together, insured by NCUA. Speaking from London. The Black Museum. Here, in a grim stone structure on the Thames, which houses Scotland Yard, there's a warehouse of homicide. A very strange room where everyday objects, a woman's shoe, a tiny white box, a quilted robe...

All are touched by murder. You take this raincoat. It's a familiar object. Waterproof cloth, rayon lining, collar. You can turn up against stormy weather. Here in London, it's called a Macintosh raincoat.

But you wouldn't wear this raincoat. Oh, doesn't it, Inspector? The way it was tucked around that poor woman? And partially burned. As if someone had tried to destroy the evidence. Well, it is evidence, sir. But against whom? I'm not sure yet. But this raincoat, Sergeant... This raincoat will hang someone. You can depend on it. Today, that raincoat can be seen in a very special position...

In that very curious room in Scotland Yard, which is known as the Black Museum. From the annals of the Criminal Investigation Department of the London Police, we bring you the dramatic stories of the crimes recorded by the objects in Scotland Yard's gallery of death, the Black Museum.

In just a moment, you will hear The Black Museum starring Orson Welles. The Black Museum

♪♪

THE END

Now, the Black Museum starring Orson Welles. Now, here we are in the Black Museum, Scotland Yard's museum.

It's a museum of murder. Here are the objects of homicide, the weapons, the clues, which at one time or another betrayed killers. They've been collected over a hundred years. And now here they are, shelf upon shelf, in this dim, echoing room. Here lies death, on these shelves, in these glass cases. Just for instance, in this case, simple mallets.

Just the sort of thing a suburbanite might use in his garage or his shop working at wood carving on a quiet weekend. As a matter of fact, a suburbanite did use this mallet on a quiet weekend, but not for wood carving. Ah, the raincoat. Here we are. Stained, charred, too, around the edges. There's nothing you'd like to handle for very long, but there's a story attached to it.

A story begins in the kind of place you immediately associate with absolute silence. No, not a graveyard. A chess club. It is silent, isn't it? And into this silence of concentration...

They're intruded. London City Chess Club. Is Mr. Agard there? Sorry, sir, I haven't seen him yet. This is the steward of the club. May I take a message? We're expecting him. I see. My name is Champer. This is 46 Edison Mule East. He knows.

We've had some contact by way of Agard's insurance business. Yes, sir. And the message? I want to see him about a policy. Tell him it's rather urgent. I want him at my house tomorrow evening at 7.30 sharp. Very well, sir. I'll tell him as soon as he gets in.

Mr. Agard, sorry to disturb you, sir. Just a moment, steward. There. Now, your move. Now, steward, a most important telephone message for you, sir. It came in about half an hour ago before you came in. Otherwise, I would never have disturbed you. From a Mr. Chamfer, sir. Chamfer. Strange name. Oh, yes. Yes, perhaps I do know him. May I have the message, steward? That was all.

That was all until the next evening. A little bit after seven o'clock on a streetcar, this quiet little insurance salesman, John Agard, said to the conductor of the streetcar, I beg your pardon, does this car take me to Edison Mews East? I've never been out there before, you see. I'm not going... Yes, you're all right, mister. Take you about 20 minutes from here. Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. I'll call it out for you, if you like. Oh, yes. Thank you again. Thank you very much. Thank you.

Oh, I beg your pardon. May I trouble you for the right time, please? It's, uh, 7.35. I... I am right for Edison Muse East, aren't I? That one block to the car line. Oh, thank you. Thank you.

I beg your pardon, Constable. Yes, sir? I am looking for a Mr. Chamfer. In Edison News East, I have an appointment. It's insurance. Do you happen to know the gentleman, officer? I'm afraid not, sir. Oh, dear, oh, dear. My date was for 7.30. Is it much past that now? 7.45, sir. Steeplechimes just struck the three-quarter. Oh, thank you, thank you very much indeed. I am sorry to have troubled you, officer.

He seemed a worried little man, John Agate, upset over his difficulty in finding Mr. Chamfer, and he was still worried, apparently, about an hour later, when he's next to our neighbors, Harry and Ethel Benson, saw him coming across the scrap of lawn which separated their houses.

Here's Agard coming over. Funny. Why is it funny, Harry? They come over very often. That's just it. Martha isn't with him. Funny. Such a devoted couple. Martha had a bad cold today. Perhaps John needs something. Well, no, isn't enough. There he is. Hey.

Hello, Hagar. Spotted you coming across the lawn. Yes. Good evening. You know, I am sorry to bother you. No bother at all. Do you need something for Martha's cold? Oh, you know about that. No, and yes. I suppose the cold made her forget to unbolt the doors when she went to bed. You mean you can't get into your own house? Oh, man, that's it. Front and back. I can't seem to open either of them. Ah.

I don't quite know what to do about it. Not like Martha to forget a thing like that. Does she always bolt the door behind you when she's alone? Oh, at night, yes. There's only the two of us. I do so rarely go out without her, but tonight it was business. If you'll come across with me, I'd appreciate it. The three of them crossed the lawn to the Eggert house. Three ordinary people. An insurance agent, a bank clerk, a bank clerk's wife. The wife said...

Let me try the front door, just for luck. John Agard said. It won't help her. I've tried several times. The woman tried it. Well...

That's a bit strange. I could have sworn... It happens lots of times. The lock gets stuck. It's really open and you think it's locked and it just won't work. Well, now you're here. Won't you stop in for a moment? What with Martha's cold and all the... Oh, she'll like to see you. Come in, please. Well, just for a minute. Come in.

Martha? Martha, dear? The Bensons are with me. Martha! Oh, Martha. Good Lord. She was dead. Completely, horribly dead. One look. No doctor could help.

A woman's head was battered in. She lay before the fireplace, her arms and legs twisted awkwardly like some carelessly dropped wooden figure, and there was blood on the heart, but on the walls, too, on the chair, on the rugs. And tucked around the body, as you'd tuck a blanket around a child, was a raincoat. ♪♪

Let me go over this once more, Mr. Rager. Of course, Inspector. If you think it'll help. Details very often help. You say you left here just before seven. Took a trolley to Edison Mews. But you couldn't find the address or the man who called you. Even asked the constable on the beach.

Then you returned home to, uh, what you found. That is correct, sir. And your wife was alive when you left her. Oh, of course, of course. That was about quarter to seven. The boy who delivers milk said he saw her in the kitchen through the window about that time. The newsboy said he tossed the evening paper at the front door about 6.30 but saw no one. Can you corroborate any of those points? Oh, I took the paper with me at a quarter of seven.

Martha... Martha was alive when I left. Who could have done this, Inspector? Who? We'll find out. We usually do. May I see the cuffs of your trousers, Mr. Riggard? The cuffs of my... Oh, yes. Whatever for? Thank you.

No? No stains of any kind? Do you really think for one minute that I... We think nothing. Not yet. The raincoat, Mr. Rayguard, is it yours? Are there two worn spots at the buttonhole? There are. It's...

Nothing. When did you see it last? It was hanging on its usual hook in the hall. I see. Thank you, Mr. Eggert. That's about all for now. That's about all for now. But not nearly all. The experts were at work. Somewhere, somehow, the tiny thread which would lead to the heart of the tangle would be found.

In a quiet office in Scotland Yard, Inspector Mason discussed the expert's reports with Sergeant Crandall.

It couldn't have been robbery. A guard reports nothing missing. A guard reports a lot of things, including a mysterious telephone call that took him on a wild goose chase. During which he seems to take good care to leave a clear trail of his own movements. She was seen alive between 6.30 and 6.45. A guard was in the tobacco shop at 7.35. The girl who works there remembers him. He probably took good care she would. Beyond a doubt he did that.

But he couldn't have battered her to death after 6.45, cleaned up, destroyed whatever he was wearing, and still be in that shop at 7.35. Or made that trolley car a few minutes after 7. Exactly. Which leaves us, Inspector... With a raincoat. It's odd, isn't it, Inspector?

The way it was tucked around that poor woman? And partially burned. As if someone tried to destroy the evidence. Well, it is evidence, sir. But against whom? I'm not sure yet. But this raincoat, Sergeant... This raincoat will hang someone. You can depend on it. That was all they had. The raincoat. Inspector Mason thought about it. It was tucked around her just as if someone who loved her were taking care of her. There was a thread. It seemed the only thread...

Where did it lead? Where could it lead? Where could any of it lead? John Agard, you're under arrest. And you'll be later charged with the murder of your wife Martha. It is my duty to caution you that anything you may say... Today, that raincoat can be seen in a very special position. In that very curious room in Scotland Yard.

which is known as the Black Museum.

In just a moment, we will continue with The Black Museum starring Orson Welles. The Black Museum

The End

And now we continue with The Black Museum starring Orson Welles. The Black Museum

Well, they charged John Agard with the murder of his wife, Martha. The evidence seems slight, pretty flimsy, but still, there were strange lapses, contradictions of character. A quiet little insurance salesman responds to a call from a possible client, and suddenly he's talkative, almost garrulous. He establishes himself at definite places at definite times with total strangers, all of whom can be checked quite easily by the police.

The possible client is nonexistent. And then, of course, there was the raincoat. From the very beginning, the prosecutor for the Crown made it clear that a great deal of his case rested on that raincoat. And if the prisoner did commit this murder for apparently no reason, he deserves the full punishment. Much will be made of the quiet life he led with his raincoat.

Much will be made of the fact that no tiltil twist of blood was found on him or his clothing.

But I say to you, and we hope to prove this to your satisfaction, that this woman could have been beaten to death by someone wearing only the raincoat which we will place in evidence. Now, who, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, could have approached Martha Agard naked save for that raincoat except her husband, the prisoner, John Agard? Moreover, as you will see, the police officer... There was more of the same, much more counsel for the Crown without to make an impression or doubt about that, but then...

So was counsel of the defense. My teacher admitted that no trace of was found upon my client, although from the condition of the body and though time. John A. Goddard could never have committed this crime, performed the necessary ablutions, and been where he was definitely seen between 6.45, when his poor was not seen alive by a third party, and 7.05, the moment when my client spoke to the trolley conductor. But far, far more important...

is the relationship between my client and his poor wife, a relationship of love, of understanding, of the perfect companionship of declining years. For that reason alone, I submit my client could never have committed the crime with which he stands charged today.

So it began. The legal lines of battle were drawn. Twelve honest men sat in the jury box and gave their whole attention to the parade of witnesses, to the arguments, to the cross-examinations. Sergeant Crandall gave evidence on the amount of blood and the places where it was found. The

Defense counsel, cross-examined. It is apparent, Sergeant, that there was an attempt to burn the raincoat, which is now in evidence. Do you agree? Yes, sir. Such an operation would take some time, would it not? Oh, I assume so. I can't say for certain. I've never experimented with a raincoat. Very well.

You saw the scene of the crime before it was cleaned up, did you not? I did. From what you saw, would you say it was possible for the killer to escape splashes of blood? Well, I doubt it. He would get blood on his legs, his hands, his face, his hair. I expect so. Were any such traces found on my client? Well, none that I know of.

There's been a suggestion made that the murderer took a bath before leaving the premises. Did you see any traces of a bath? A wet towel, indications in the bathtub? No, sir. Nothing like that. One more point, Sergeant. These are the telling points.

But the crown made its own points as well. Inspector Mason, what did you think of the defendant when you first questioned him? I was rather surprised at him. He showed less emotion than I did. How was this indicated? We sat in the room where the murder had occurred. Mr. Regard smoked and talked. He held his cat on his knees and stroked it quite calmly.

At one point, he casually... Such points just... A clever prosecutor. Quite clever. He called the steward of the chess club. Was Mr. Agard in the club when the telephone call came from this mysterious Mr. Champer? No, sir. I looked particularly. He was not there. Did you recognize this Champer's voice? I've never heard it before. I haven't heard it since. Might it have been a disguised voice? It might. It sounded muffled. Very heavy.

Heavy, sort of. Thank you. Your witness. Mr. Stewart, in your observations of Mr. Agard, have you ever seen him behave as a poor loser? No, sir, never. Has he ever expressed violent opinions, to your knowledge? Mr. Agard, violent? He's the quietest man I've ever known. Did he ever mention his wife to you? Many times, sir. On what occasions? Usually about nine in the evening.

He always worried about leaving her alone too late at night, sir. A very considerate of her he is, er, was, sir. Thank you, that's all. There it was, all they had. An elusive case. An impression, really, more than a case.

Very difficult to prove, but just as difficult to defend. For instance, the evidence of Harry Benson, who was with John Ager when the body was discovered. And in all the years you've been neighbours, what would you say impressed you most about my client's relationship with his wife? His absolute devotion. Never a quarrel, never a raised voice. They liked the same things. They were perfect for each other. Your witness? Mr. Benson...

After the discovery, who called the police? Why, Agard did come to think of it. My wife was very upset. She was sick over what she'd seen, as a matter of fact. Yes, he was the one who thought of the police. He used the telephone quite calmly. Quite calmly. Thank you, Mr. Bensley. And naturally, the defense brought John Agard's immediate superior to the stand, the manager of the local branch of the insurance company Agard represented. This man's testimony was double-edged.

On direct examination, he stated... We have always had complete faith in Mr. Agard's integrity and character. He carried a large policy on his own life in favor of his wife. She was not insured. To the best of our knowledge, which is rather complete, Mr. Agard has never been in financial trouble in his life. On cross-examination, he explains... Yes, I live near Edison Mews East...

Mr. Agard has been to my house many times. He knows the way very well. I cannot imagine why he asked for directions. I was at the cinema that evening. My neighbor recognized Mr. Agard when he came to the door of my house. Unfortunately, I was not at home. When John Agard's turn came to take the witness stand, there was little left for him to say. I did not kill her. I had no reason to.

I loved her. Opposing counsel summed up. The judge made his charge to the jury. Again and again, you have heard the importance of the time element in this case. Could this man, or any man, have committed this crime, removed all traces of it from his person, dressed and been at a trolley car line 20 minutes from his house...

In the time between the moment the milk boy saw the victim alive... and the moment the conductor saw the defendant on the trolley car. More. There is no evidence to connect the defendant directly with the crime. The case is entirely circumstantial. No motive has been established. They listened. The twelve honest men in the jury box. They retired and they debated...

What went on in that jury room is sealed in silence under the honored tradition of the law. Anyway, 40 minutes elapsed. Then, the jury re-entered the courtroom. The clerk asked the usual question. Are you agreed upon a verdict? We are. Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?

Guilty. Prisoner at the bar. Have you anything to say why you should not die according to the law? I am not guilty. I have nothing else to say. You are looking well, John. They treat me well. I had a shock yesterday.

The governor of the prison came here. He said 8 o'clock in the morning, Monday the 16th. Don't worry, John. It will be put over. The appeal? It's being studied. The court won't rule for another month at least. They are going to stay in execution. A month. Another month.

A month. An extra week after that. Time went on endlessly, it seemed to John Agard. Waiting in his cell in Walden Prison. At long last, they gave him his own clothes and took him before three judges of the Court of Criminal Appeal. Handcuffed, he stood there between the bailiff and his own counsel. The voice of the judge seemed very far away. There is indeed reasonable doubt in this case.

We believe there is eminent difficulty and doubt. The case against the appellant was not proved with the certainty necessary to a verdict of guilty. This appeal will be allowed. The prisoner will go free. Yes, he went free. But the raincoat, that famous raincoat, can still be found today in its place of very particular honor.

In that curious room known as the Black Museum.

Orson Welles will be back with you in just a moment. THE END

The End

Now here in person is Orson Welles. So, Inspector Mason was wrong, wasn't he? The raincoat didn't hang anybody after all. John A. Goode went free and for the first time in the history of English law, a conviction for murder was set aside for reasonable doubt. Now what happened to John A. Goode? He lived out his life.

Just two years after his release, he died. Some say of loneliness. In Liverpool, a broken, weary old man. I've seen his grave in Liverpool. And I've seen the raincoat. That famous, enigmatic raincoat. In its place of particular honor. In that strange room in Scotland Yard. Known as the Black Museum. Now, until we meet again in the same place for another story, of the same kind, I remain as always...

Obediently yours. The Black Museum, starring Orson Welles, is presented by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Radio Attractions. The program is written by Ara Marion, with original music composed and conducted by Sidney Torch.

Produced by Harry Allen Towers.

The End

At Mayfair,

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Together. Insured by NCUA. Mutual presents the Mysterious Traveler. The Mysterious Traveler

This is the Mysterious Traveler, inviting you to join me on another journey into the realm of the strange and the terrifying. I hope you will enjoy the trip, that it will thrill you a little and chill you a little. So settle back, get a good grip on your nerves and be comfortable. If you can. If you can.

What is our story tonight? Why, tonight we're going to see what happens when an honest man yields to temptation and descends into the murky depths of murder and despair. It's the story I call... Dark, Dark Destiny. Dark, Dark Destiny.

In the office of Dr. William Norris, Joseph Harrison, a man in his thirties, is waiting anxiously as in the next room, Dr. Norris is finishing his examination of pretty young Mary Harrison. It isn't anything serious, is it, Dr. Norris? Please tell me it isn't. I'm afraid it's too soon to say, Mrs. Harrison. Until the x-ray plates are developed, I can't say yes or no.

And now your husband is waiting outside, and he's probably beginning to worry. Yes, of course, Doctor. Poor Joe, he does worry about me. Well, here's your wife, Mr. Harrison. You must have thought I'd kidnapped her. No, but I was getting a little worried, Doctor. I hope you didn't find anything very wrong. Well, I took a complete x-ray series. I won't be able to tell much until they're developed.

I'd like Mrs. Harrison to come back the day after tomorrow, if she can. Of course, Doctor. Any time in the day that's convenient to you will be quite all right. And meanwhile, I'll write out a prescription your husband can have filled. Will you step in a minute, Mr. Harrison? Sure thing. I'll be with you in a minute, Mary. All right, darling. Won't you sit down, Mr. Harrison? All right. What is it, Doctor? Bad news? I'm afraid so. Good.

Does that mean Mary's going to die? No, Mr. Harrison. Not that serious. But within a few months, she will be confined to her bed. I'm afraid she faces a life of invalidism. Oh, no. Oh.

No, it can't be. I'm sorry, Mr. Harrison. Doctor, there must be something you can do for her. Well, well, I don't want to raise your hopes, but... Yeah? There's one doctor in this country who, through a very remarkable type of operation, has been able to help people like your wife. Why didn't you say so? Let's get him. Well, I must warn you, Mr. Harrison, this operation doesn't always meet with success.

In many cases, the patient shows no improvement at all. After all, it's still in the experimental stage. Look, if there's one chance in a hundred, I want Mary to have that chance. Now, please get this doctor to operate on my wife. All right, I'll try. But his services are in great demand. And, uh, well, his average fee for an operation is about $1,500. $1,500?

Of course, if you can't afford that, he might consider the circumstances. No, I can afford it. I can afford anything that Mary needs. Very well, then I'll get in touch with him at once. Yeah, sure. You make the arrangements right away. I'll get hold of the money. I'll have it by tomorrow, sure. THE END

Darling, help me off with my coat, will you? Oh, sure, sure. How are you feeling? Oh, my backache is much better since I took the medicine Dr. Norris gave me. I'm sure I'm going to be all right, Joe. Of course you are. He's one of the best doctors in the city. He'll have you well in no time. Did he tell you anything more, Joe? No.

No, not a thing. Except that the treatment may take a little time. That's all. A little time? Yeah. Oh, dear, I hope it won't be too expensive. Your business has fallen off and we've used up our savings account. Now, don't you worry about the money. Don't you worry about anything. All right, darling. I won't.

But aren't you going to take your coat off? No, I... I... I've got to get that prescription the doctor gave me filled. You just take it easy until I get back. I might stop in at the shop, too. There's something... something I have to tend to. Oh.

Mr. Danvers, I'm Joe Harrison. Oh, yes, Mr. Harrison. Please sit down. Thank you. I see that you want to borrow $1,500 from us. That's right. I've got to have it right away. Unfortunately, the security you wish to offer your home is... What's wrong with it? It's a swell little house in a good section. It's all in good repair. It's all in good repair.

Houses are worth money these days. Quite true. But you already have a first and second mortgage on it, and I... Well, prices are falling, so I'm afraid we can't make any further loans on it. I've got to have the money. I've just got to... I'm sorry to hear that, because there's nothing we can do to help you. Then forget about the loan. I'll sell the house.

Only people who want houses. That's true, too. I don't think you can possibly clear much over the mortgages on a sale. A few hundred dollars, perhaps. You see, those mortgages were issued when prices were at their peak. And now, well, things have changed. Yeah. I see they have. The End

You say you're not employed, Mr. Harrison. No, I own a shop. You see, I'm a locksmith. Hmm. That means you're never certain of your income. Now, if you had a job, a regular income that could be dependent upon... What are you getting at? You mean you're not going to let me have the money? I'm afraid I can't, Mr. Harrison.

Your ads say that you lend up to $2,000 on a personal note. I only want $1,500. Look, you've got to let me have it. I certainly wish I could, but under the circumstances, I... I'm sorry. Very sorry. There's nothing I can do.

I'm afraid the collateral you suggest isn't satisfactory, Mr. Harrison. We'd lend you the money if we could, but we just can't. Sorry. But I've just got to have it. I've got to. Sorry. Do you hear me? I've got to have it. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

Joe, you're not eating. And you're so quiet. Is anything wrong? What? Oh. No, no, of course not. You're worrying about me, aren't you? No, Mary, of course not. I, uh...

I was just thinking about some changes at the shop. Darling, you don't have to lie to me. I know you're worrying. But I'm going to get better. Really, I am. I promise you. Sure you are. Sure. Dr. Norris said so. You're going to be well in no time. Well, I have to go out now. I have an appointment with Horace Latimer.

You remember I told you about him? We grew up together. I may be pretty late, so don't wait up for me. Joe had no appointment with Horace Latimer.

But he went to see Horace anyway, for they had been boyhood friends until their paths had separated. Horace had grown rich, and Joe hoped desperately that Horace would lend him the money he had been trying to raise all day. A sum that would mean nothing at all to Horace. Fifteen hundred dollars, that's rather a lot of money, Joe. I know it is, Horace, but it's for Mary. It's for an operation. I've got to have it. I see.

Well, now, why don't you try the bank? You have a house. I have tried the bank and a half a dozen loan companies. They all turned me down. They said my security wasn't good enough. Oh, I see. Well, that's too bad. But, you know, I don't quite understand why you came to me, Joe. Because we're friends, that's why.

Because when we were boys, we agreed that each of us would always lend the other a helping hand if we could. Boys don't understand business very well, I'm afraid, Joe. Well, I guess not. They don't understand business. They just understand friendship. Friendship.

You know, if I had the money, I'd lend it to you if you needed it. I don't doubt that at all, Joe, and you can bet I'd lend it to you if I had it. But that's the trouble. I haven't any ready cash. Free income tax, you know, and, well, a couple of shaky investments that I'm trying to bolster up. All right, all right, Horace, never mind explaining. I get the idea. You're not going to lend me any money. Not really, Joe. I would if I could, but I can't. I'm sorry. I'll save your sorrow for somebody who wants it. I don't need your money, you hear?

I'll get it someplace else. I'll get it someplace. After he had slammed out of Horace Latimer's expensive home...

Joe stood for a moment on the dark street corner, staring back with bitterness in his face. Yeah, you're sorry. I'll bet you are. What a sap I was to think you were a pal of mine. I should have known better. I should have known... What's up, buddy? Huh? You speaking to me? Oh, no. Sorry, I guess I was just thinking out loud. That's okay. Hey.

Hey, you got a match? Match? Sure, yeah.

Yeah. Thanks. Okay, hold it just like that. Make a move and I'll plug you. Gun. Are you... Are you... Yeah, this is a stick-up. Hand over your dough and make it fast, see? My dough? That's a hot one. I'm out trying to raise money and so are you. Well, I only got a dollar on me. Take that if you want it. Anyhow, it's more than I could raise. Don't try to kid me. Stand still while I see what you got in your pockets. Go ahead. Go ahead.

Wallet. And a leather case of some kind. You'll find exactly one buck in that wallet. You made a mistake, I tell you. I don't live in this ritzy neighborhood. I just came here to try to borrow a little money. One measly buck. But I'll bet you got a roll hidden in this leather case that's heavy enough. There's nothing in there but my emergency kit. Yeah, well, I'll see for myself. This kit is full of skeleton keys and pick locks and stuff.

What are you, anyway? A second-story worker? I'm a locksmith and a safe repairman, if it's anything to you. Oh, yeah? Yeah. Now, how about taking that dollar and letting me go on my way? I'm in a hurry. Not so fast, pal. Were you leveling just now when you said you were trying to raise dough? Sure I was. I got to have $1,500 by tomorrow. And what's it to you? You'd be surprised, pal.

Okay, I'm putting the gun away, but you ain't leaving yet. Why not? Because me and you are going to talk business. I got a plan that'll get us both all the dough we need. The End

Two more beers, waiter. Well, Joe, is there a deal on my proposition? Right. Oh, Mike, sure you do. There's nothing to it. You can open locks and safes. Yeah. I know a house where there's a safe with plenty of dough in it. You and me together, we'll go get it. We'll make a team. But burglary...

I've never stolen anything in my life. Listen, you need dope bad, don't you? Instead of why, plenty bad. Yeah, but I... You said you'd do anything to get it, didn't you? Yeah, yeah, I did. Then what are you hanging back for? All you gotta do is get the back door open and the safe. You can do that, can't you? Yeah, I suppose so. Then forget the butts. In a half an hour, you'll have your $1,500 and more. How else are you ever gonna get it? Answer me that. I don't know. Hey, look.

You saw all those big houses lived in by guys with dough? How'd they get it? They took it from somebody else, every one of them. Yeah, I suppose so. You sure the money's there? I'm positive. Look, I was casing the joint and I looked in a window just in time to see the old geezer put a roll of bills in a safe you can open with your teeth. All right, I'll do it.

I gotta have that money. And so, half an hour later, Joe and his newfound acquaintance stood in the shadows of the rear entrance of an imposing brick house, listening intently. Not a sound anyplace. Good thing there's no dogs around. One o'clock.

Everybody's hit the hay long ago. This'll be a cinch. That lot looks easy enough. I shouldn't be doing this. Must be some other way to get the money. Don't be a sucker all your life. You gotta take what you want in this world. Go on, get the door open. Gotta get inside before we're spotted. Well... All right. It'll only take a second, I think. Yeah, it's coming.

There, it's unlocked. Let's get inside. Come on. There. Good. We're in. Nobody spotted us. The safe's in the library this way. Don't make any noise. You sure there's only the two of them in the house? Yeah. The old guy and his butler. Probably both deaf as posts. We

Here we are. Here's the library door. Come on in. The safe's behind a picture on this wall. That picture there? Yeah, that's the one. I looked it down. There you are. There's the safe.

It's a kid's toy. A kid's toy? Nothing. That baby's tough. Well, you can open it, can't you? Yeah, but it'll take at least a half an hour. Get going. We can't stay here all night. Come on.

Hurry it up. You've been 40 minutes on that thing. I told you it was tough. It's coming now. Here you go. About time, too. Now, let's see what's in it. Here's the cash box.

When will I open it? Then we'll know what we got. There, look. Oh, cash. Mazuma, what did I tell you? There must be thousands there. Easy, come on. Let's count it and divvy it up. No, no. Never mind. Just give me the $1,500. That's all I want. You can keep the rest. You kidding? No, that's all I want. Just the $1,500 that I need. Okay, if that's the way you want it.

Here you are. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen hundred dollars, Bill. Fifteen hundred dollars. This for an hour's work? Easy money, huh? Hey, look. What do you say we crack a couple of more cribs tonight? No, no, no. I just want to get out of here now. Someone's coming. Someone's coming? Yeah. Here, get behind this door. I'll take care of this. What are you going to do? Never mind. Now shut up. Who? Who's there? Jenkins? Jenkins?

Jenkins, is that you? Ah. The safe's open. The bag is. Jenkins! Jenkins, call the police, quick! Nobody's calling any cops tonight, mister. Why, you... You're a thief! Jenkins! Jenkins! Maybe that'll convince you. Why did you hit him? What'd you expect me to do, hold his hand? Wait a minute.

He looks like he's dead. I wouldn't be surprised. He don't seem to be breathing any to speak of. That's murder. So it's murder. You're in it just as much as me. Don't forget that. Yeah.

I'm an accessory to murder. Cut the guff and let's get out of here. Or do you want to get caught? No, no, of course not. Then come on, let's get going. Okay, here we are. Come on in. Why did you make me come here? Why can't I go home? You heard me. Come on in.

That's better. Ah. Take off your hat and stay a while. I can't stay, Mike. My wife, she'll be worrying. I gotta go home to her. You've got worse things than your wife to worry about, pal. What do you mean? I mean the cops. Or have you forgotten you're wanted for murder? No, I haven't forgotten.

I'll never be able to forget. Why did you kill him? Why? So we wouldn't have to go to jail. Would you rather have gone to jail, Joe? Of course not.

Yes, I would. I... I'm all mixed up. How did I get into this anyway? You need a dough. That's how you got into this. And you got it. So cut out the sob stuff. We're in the clear. Nobody got a peep at us. Why won't you let me go home? Why do you make me come to your room here? Two reasons.

The first is, I want to make sure you know what it'll mean if you let anything slip. I know. You don't have to tell me. I won't let anything slip. If I thought you might, I'd slit your throat right now. I won't, I tell you. I have to live for my wife's sake. Okay.

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

Because if you don't, I can always send a little note to the cops telling them it's you they want for that killing tonight. You wouldn't do that. That gets you too. I'd be a long ways away by then. But you can't get away. You've got a business here and a sick wife. You couldn't leave them. Well, now you see why you're going to do what I say? You dirty... No, no, no. Don't say it. You don't think you can pull a job and then go on as if nothing had happened to you?

You're mixed up in murder. And somebody's always got to pay for murder.

One way or another. Well, he did it for Mary's sake. Don't matter why you did it. You're in it now and you can't get out. Not without paying in some way. I got a good mind to go to the police to confess. Get this off my chest. I know you don't. You see this gun? I'd plug you in a second if I... Get away from me. Let go of my hand. Let go of you. You got me into this. You're not going to make me go any further into it. I'll take that away from you. Mike. Mike.

Mike! He's dead. He's dead. He tried to shoot me and shot himself. I've got to get away from here. I've got to get back to Mary. I've got to get back to Mary.

In a daze of horror, Joe Harrison found his hat and made his way to the street. His mind was a dizzy whirl of thoughts which he could not control. They went around and around in his head. I'm a murderer. Don't catch me, don't hang me. I didn't mean to do it. I just wanted the money. The money was all I wanted. The money to make Mary well, that's all. Don't catch me. Don't hang me.

It must... I gotta escape. I got to. Mike said the murder has to be paid for somehow. That isn't true. Sometimes you can escape if you're lucky. I just gotta be lucky. I need a drink. Gotta have a drink before I go crazy. So Joe Harrison stumbled into a tiny bar on a dark street.

Struggling to control his shaking hands and to keep his voice normal, he ordered a double rye and gulped it down. Then, as his senses cleared a little...

He heard the radio at the end of the bar broadcasting a warning to the city. The police department is asking you to be on the lookout for the following man. Wanted for the brutal murder committed in Gramercy Park section two hours ago. Please make a note of the following description given by the victim before he died. The description follows. Hey, look, buddy, what's the idea?

Why'd you shut the radio off? Answer me. Why'd you do it first? Because. Because I was sick of listening to it, that's why. Oh, is that so? Well, I'm not, see? And I got an idea maybe there was some other reason you didn't want to hear it. So I'm going to turn it on again. No, you mustn't. Well, I'm going to. And if you want to make a try for a break, I got a gun right here under the bar, you see?

Now let's hear what the killer looked like. I repeat, be on the lookout for a man of medium height, lean and wiry, with reddish-brown hair. If you see such a man, report it once to headquarters. We now turn you back to our regular night program of popular dance tunes. Lean and wiry with reddish-brown hair, huh?

Well, that ain't you. You're kind of heavy-set and black-head. For a minute there, you had me going. I was positive you was the killer, the way you didn't want me to hear the description. Just jumpy, huh? Well, here, have another drink on the house, huh? Oh, thanks. I gotta go home. I need some sleep. Yeah, that's what I need. Some sleep.

Aghast at how close he had come to giving himself away, Joe Harrison hurried home. It was Mike the police were looking for, not Joe Harrison. It was Mike whose description they had. Joe Harrison was safe. Safe. Hardly able to believe in his own good luck, Joe reached his home and let himself in. Mary was already asleep.

Quietly he got into bed and at last fell asleep himself. Asleep troubled by nightmares that gave him no peace. When he woke it was morning and Mary was preparing breakfast. Good morning, darling. What time did you get home anyway? I waited up for you almost till two. I, uh... I was pretty late. I...

I stopped at the shop and did a little work. Forgot to watch the time. And this morning you looked terrible. I know. You're worrying. About me. But you mustn't, darling. I'm going to be all right. Really, I am. Of course you are. I'm going to see to that. What do you think? Dr. Norris called up last night. Wanted to talk to you. He said he had good news for you. Good news? Mm-hmm. But he wouldn't tell me what it was.

I don't know why. He asked for you to stop in at his office this morning. Yeah, I think I know what it is. Yeah, sure. I'll go right over and see him. But, darling, you're going to eat breakfast first, aren't you? No, I'll eat when I get back. I want to see the doctor first. Anyway, I'm not very hungry. All right, Joe. But please hurry back. I want to know what the doctor says. Yeah, sure, Mary. I'll be right back. But everything's okay now. Everything's okay. I'm sorry.

After he left the house, Joe bought a morning paper. Big headlines told of the murder the night before, but he scarcely saw them. His eyes hurried through the story until he found what he was looking for. The news that Mike's body had been found. The man Mike had struck had given his butler Mike's description before he died. But he hadn't seen Joe at all. So the police had listed Mike's death as a suicide or an accident and closed the case.

Joe Harrison was safe. Perfectly safe. Safe? Unsafe? Sometimes you can get away with murder. Not have to pay anything. If you're lucky...

And I've been lucky. When he entered the doctor's office, Joe's expression was that of a man who had just faced disaster and been rescued at the last moment. He seated himself and tossed the folded newspaper into the wastebasket.

Good morning, Doctor. Mary said you phoned that you had good news. Oh, yes, Mr. Harrison. Yes, I called you last night after I got in touch with the surgeon I spoke of yesterday, Dr. Nelson Richards. I wanted to tell you that he had agreed to operate on your wife. That's swell, Doctor. That's swell. I got the money right here in my pocket. The money? Yes. Here you go.

Yes, I was going to tell you that Dr. Richard had said not to worry about that. You could take as long as you wanted to pay it. As long as I wanted. And it wasn't necessary. I didn't have to do it. I didn't have to do it. I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Harrison. Oh, never mind, Doctor. I mean, here's the money. I got it. I got it right here. I want to pay for it. He's got to take it right away.

What's the matter?

Why are you looking at me like that, poor? The operation is going to cure Mary, isn't it? You said it would. You can't go back on your word now. You can't, do you hear? It's not that, Mr. Harrison. Yes, the chances are the operation would have cured your wife. But, well, unfortunately, Dr. Richards was the only man in this country able to perform it. Well, so what? He said he'd do it, didn't he? So what's the hitch? Mr. Harrison, Dr. Richards won't perform the operation now.

Why not? Dr. Richards was tragically killed last night by a burglar who broke into his home on Gramercy Park. This is the mysterious traveler again.

Fate plays strange jokes sometimes, doesn't she? Poor Joe Harrison. He forgot that good can never come out of evil, and that crime must always be paid for by someone. If only he hadn't let himself be tempted. But he did. What became of him? Why, he devoted himself to taking care of his invalid wife, Mary. But his deed continued to weigh on his mind. And when she died several years later, he confessed everything to the police.

I do hope his experience has proved that crime really doesn't pay. I always say... Oh, you have to get off here. I'm sorry. But I'm sure we'll meet again. I take this same train every week at this time.

You've just heard The Mysterious Traveler, a series of dramas of the strange and terrifying. In tonight's cast were Maurice Toplin, Joseph Julian, Elaine Kent, Palmer Ward, Kenny Lynch, and Bill Smith. Original music was played by Charles Paul. The Mysterious Traveler is written, produced, and directed by Rob Arthur and David Kogan.

Listen next week to a tale titled... Flight from Fear. Another strange and shivery tale of the Mysterious Traveler. The Mysterious Traveler has come to you from our New York studios. Carl Caruso speaking. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System. The Mutual Broadcasting System

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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