THE FIRST BABY BORN IN SPACE! | 10 #RetroRadio Stories! EP0267 #WeirdDarkness
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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.

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Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into Weird Darkness' retro radio. ♪♪ The CBS Radio Mystery Theater presents... ♪♪

Come in. Welcome. I'm E.G. Marshall, your chaperone at these arcane revels, which are celebrated here seven times each week. There's the smile of love and the smile of deceit. And the smile of smiles, where both smiles meet. Why are love and deceit so often found together? Must we deceive to love?

Or do we love to deceive? But where you find love and deceit together, they do not usually remain alone. Often, this duet becomes a trio. And the third member turns out to be death. How do you render justice in your country? We have courts. Courts? Halls, where people assemble and we have judges, juries, lawyers. Ah, yes, yes.

Is it wise to allow people to judge people? It is the best way, the most democratic. Only the immortal gods may decide. But how do you know to get them to make a decision? The gods have sent my people a spring of sparkling water.

The accused must drink at the spring. And what does that prove? The innocent walk away vindicated. And the guilty? The guilty fall down dead. Well, it is hardly the way. You will see it with your own eyes. We shall have a trial tonight. Oh? Who is the accused? You are.

Our mystery drama, The Smile of Deceit, was written especially for the Mystery Theater by Sam Dan and stars Jennifer Harmon. It is sponsored in part by Anheuser-Busch Incorporated, Brewers of Budweiser, and Sinoff, the sinus medicines. I'll be back shortly with Act One. ♪♪

The poet tells us that nothing succeeds like success. The question therefore arises, what is success? That depends on whom you ask. Inquire of the philosophers and you'll soon discover that as a group, they tend to knock it. They say things like, success has always been a great liar, or the greatest success is an early death.

That's all very well, but who among us would refuse to be successful? Who, if given free choice, would choose failure? Certainly not Miss Velma Strait. Women's lib to the contrary notwithstanding, success for many girls in our society still means the acquisition of a wealthy husband. And Velma, as we shall discover, has hit a rather respectable jackpot. Just a minute, darling.

Oh, it's Aunt Rose. Well, I see you were expecting darling. I was. Well, may I come in? Of course. Come in, Aunt Rose. By all means, come in. Well, aren't you glad to see me, Velma, dear? Well, you know I am. I just... Well, you said you didn't think that you could get away. Well, I really can't. But would it be right for you to graduate all alone with no one to applaud?

Besides, you said you're engaged, so I just had to... Come down and see if you approve. Oh, I shall approve. I know how I raised my little girl. I'm sure you chose a wonderful man. Oh, he is, Aunt Rose, absolutely wonderful. Just tell me all about him. Well, his name is Robert Morris Hastings III. Oh, that sounds impressive. He's a great man.

Is he at school here? Oh, yes. And is he graduating, too? Oh, no. He's on the faculty. An instructor? A professor. Oh, that's marvelous. Dear, I wouldn't dare to suggest this. It's so presumptuous to advise the young, but...

I'd hoped you'd choose a mature man. And I did. Oh, the young men today seem so unsettled, so, so uncertain. An older man is so much safer, so much more secure, and in many ways, more romantic.

Now tell me everything about Robert Morris Hastings III. Well, you shall meet him in exactly one minute. Oh, I will. He promised to stop in and say hello on his way to the faculty assembly. He said he'd ring the bell at 11 o'clock and he is the soul of promptness. Well, that's an excellent quality and a sign of good character. What does he teach? Anthropology. Oh, dearest, I am so happy for you. To be the wife of a professor. To

To live in the intellectually stimulating atmosphere of a university. Oh, well, we won't live here, Aunt Rose. Robert's resigning his post. He is? We're going out into the field. Robert's specialty is in psychic phenomena among primitive peoples. It's fascinating how the mind can be manipulated to produce, well, almost anything. Even death. Anyhow, starting next month, it'll be deserts and jungles.

Well, will you look at the clock. Eleven exactly. Robert, darling, come in. I can only pause for a moment, my dear. Darling, the most wonderful human being in all the world is here to give us our blessing. Aunt Rose, this is Robert. Robert, Mrs. Maynard Gardner. But you'll have to call her Aunt Rose.

How... How do you do? How I have looked forward to this occasion. Velma never stops talking about you. Aunt Rose. Let's all have some coffee. My dear, I don't have time. Darling, it only needs a minute to boil the water. Yes, but a cup of coffee right now would be too much. I already have had two at breakfast. Now, Robert, you promised to watch that. I know, my dear, and I do try. He's just...

I really should be going. But you just got here. I promised to pop in on my way to the assembly to say hello, and now I must pop out.

I'll look for you both at the commencement exercises. Well, if you must go. And Aunt Rose, you will be our guest at lunch. I should be getting back to the city. Nonsense. Of course she'll be our guest, Robert. I'll make a reservation for three at the Hamilton Room. Goodbye, ladies. Goodbye, darling. Goodbye. Well? Velma. Isn't he marvelous? Are you serious? Yes.

Are you saying you don't like Robert? How could you consider marriage with... Oh, I know. He's not as young as you might have expected. But didn't you say it was wisest to marry an older man? Older, yes, but... But what? Well... Well, let me put it this way.

I happen to be more than twice your age, and he'd even be too old for me. Age isn't everything, Aunt Rose. Robert is handsome, generous, very intelligent, kind, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. I know, a veritable eagle scout. And most important, he's rich. Oh, no. No, I can't believe what I'm hearing. Why not, darling?

You would marry for money? Absolutely. Oh, no, Velma, no. That's not how I raised you. If you can say that, then you learn nothing in my house. But I learned everything in your house, Aunt Rose. I learned how important money can be because I saw what can happen to girls who marry for love and love alone, the way you did.

I saw what happens when a cheerful spirit is hemmed in by too small a house and badgered by too small a budget. Your uncle and I were deeply in love. My uncle and you were deeply in debt. Thelma, what happened to that idealistic young girl who went off to college four years ago? I grew up. Giddy romantic love is a peculiarly American myth. Oh, really? It's because we're still a very young country...

We have yet to get rid of our juvenile fantasies. Love is a fleeting, ethereal emotion. How can you base a marriage on it? How? Yes, dear, how? Marriage is a contract. And a contract should be guaranteed by some solid collateral. Very well. Very well. If you must marry for money, it's...

Is he the best you can do? Oh, yes. I've explored all my options. Velma! I discovered that Robert happens to be among the wealthiest men on campus, student or faculty. He's the sole surviving member of the Hastings family. I never heard of them. They were Detroit people. Robert's father was a pioneer maker of motor cars.

He was bought out by one of the big corporations for a fabulous sum of money. Oh, but there must be other wealthy men closer to your own age. Oh, Lord. Listen to how I'm talking. Yes, there are, but Robert's money is clean money. Clean? He's the only surviving member of his family. The money is all his, and when he dies, the money will be all mine.

The others had brothers or sisters, all kinds of family complications. But Velma, do you realize in ten years Robert will be a very, very old man? Why, you'll hardly be in your thirties. I don't expect Robert to live another ten years or even five. He has a heart condition. Velma! And will be living a strenuous outdoor life in areas that aren't exactly healthy. I shall be a very young widow.

And then I could afford to marry for love. Oh, Velma. Something, something has taken possession of you. Suppose five or even ten years go by and Robert is still alive. Suppose somehow he may live on to an incredibly old age. Then I suppose I'll have to burn that bridge when I get to it. THE END

Ah, there you are, Aunt Rose. Have you been waiting long? No. Were you able to see Velma at the commencement exercises? Yes. She looks stunning. Don't you agree? I agree. Why do you disapprove of me? The fact that you would have to ask such a question would indicate that you couldn't possibly understand my answer. Well, why not answer anyhow? Well...

First and foremost, this dramatic disparity in your ages. Why should it bother you? Because Velma is being cheated out of a young and vigorous husband. Evidently, that doesn't bother Velma. It will. Why do you suppose she wants to marry you? For my money.

You're shocked. Why? I never heard of anything so cold-blooded, so... so practical. If money is so important to her, why shouldn't she marry for it? She loves me. She loves me for the security I can give her. Why do you want to marry Velma? Well, because I love her. No, no, no, no. You must let me finish. I love her for the beauty and the freshness she brings into my life. Oh, it goes against all logic, all reason.

I don't know what you did. Perhaps centuries ago it might have been called witchcraft. Such a statement is beneath you, Aunt Rose. But I cannot explain it any other way. Only ignorant people explain away what they can't understand by witchcraft. Not everyone has your values, your attitudes, your perspective on life. You're a clever man, a convincing man.

But I can't be had. I insist. You must have cast a spell over Velma. How can you be sure Velma hasn't cast a spell over me? Well, I can't be sure of anything anymore. Aunt Rose. Robert. Oh, there was such a crowd. Sorry I kept you waiting. No, I'm not. I wanted you to get to know each other. Aunt Rose, isn't he just marvelous? Tell me, Aunt Rose, what do you say now?

Bless you, my children. Well, there's a marriage for you. But maybe it's not so outrageous after all. At least the principals are being honest with each other. Or do they only think they're being honest? Let's review the bidding.

He wants her to be fresh and bright and beautiful. She wants him to live no longer than, say, five more years. And I want you to wait just a few moments. And then I shall return with Act Two. What is the best basis for a marriage? The question has intrigued the sages since the original introduction of men and women.

It would appear, however, that the best basis is the one that works best for the individuals concerned. You have already met Professor and Mrs. Hastings, Velma and Robert, May and December. Since each had what the other wanted, shouldn't they be able to look forward to a successful marriage? It all goes back to what I said at the very beginning. What do you mean by success?

Well, here's Aunt Rose to bring us up to date. And so they were married. And they left immediately on a combined honeymoon and field trip... to study the customs of a remote tribe in the Amazon. At first, Velma wrote often. But a year went by, and two, three, four, even five. And her letters became more and more infrequent... and less and less informative. And then, for a while, I didn't hear from her at all. And then one day...

I received a strange, frightening letter from Brazil. Dearest Aunt Rose, save me. Please save me. You must save me. Perhaps, perhaps it is my fault, but I don't want to die. No, I must be calm. I will tell you everything. Even the part that makes me look bad. You're my only hope. You must save me.

You were right. Oh, how right. It's five years. I've been married five years. I can't stand it any longer. I can't.

What are they banging on those things for? It's a very interesting ceremony, my dear. I'm sure. It's called the Test of the Bitter Water. Sounds fascinating. Are you all right? I'm fine. Are you sure? Damn it!

I said I was all right. Do you want me to write it down and get it notarized? Obviously, something is the matter. Why can't we go home? My work is here. Why can't I go home? Home is wherever our work takes us. It's your work. Why do I have to be here? Because a wife's place is with her husband's.

Now, come on. We'll be late for the ceremony. Chief Araya will be insulted if we don't attend. Please convey my regrets. I have a headache. My dear, we are the honored guests. It would be an insult. And I need the chief's goodwill. That's too bad. I'm afraid it is. If I tell him you have a headache, he'll send his favorite medicine man to cure you. And that might be quite painful. Oh.

And so I went with Robert. I had no desire to be sewn into a pigskin and smoked for hours to drive the evil spirits from my head. The entire tribe, hundreds of men and women were gathered about a rock from which there flowed a spring of sparkling water. All eyes were on a woman who stood alone near the spring, a

woman who seemed transfixed by terror. Finally, the drums increased in intensity, and Chief Uriah himself, a tall and posing man with steel blue eyes and stark white hair, stepped forward. Let the drums be silent! What is he going to do?

He's going to make her drink some spring water from that silver cup. Why is she so frightened? Well, she's afraid the water will kill her. Is it poison? No. No, I drank it myself. Well, then why is she... She... She's been accused of infidelity... to prove her innocence, she must drink from the spring. If she is guilty, water will kill her. But if it's not poison, how can it kill her? Well, that's what these people have believed for hundreds of years...

If she's guilty, she'll die. I've seen it happen. But how can it happen? That's what we're here to study. Well, suppose she refuses to drink. That's an admission of guilt. She'd be stoned to death. Marva, daughter of Raina, wife of Coray, step forward. I accuse you of infidelity. I accuse you of disgracing your family.

shaming your husband and soiling the honor of this tribe. Do I speak? No. Shall you then submit to the test of the bitter water? Will you drink the bitter water? Please. Please. Why do you avoid the test? The water is pure. See, I drink. See, my wife drinks. See? See?

Your own mother drinks. The water is pure, but only for the pure of heart. What have you to fear if you are a virtuous woman? I'm innocent. Innocent, I swear. Then drink. Take the cup. Take it in your own two hands. Raise it to your lips. Drink. And now the gods will judge you. Drain the cup. Now throw the empty cup to the ground.

Immortal gods, what is your judgment? The gods have spoken. Is... is she dead? There's no doubt about it. She's dead. What do you mean I can't wear pants? I didn't say you can't. Well, what did you say? I only said Chief Uriah thinks they're... well, that they're immodest. Immodest?

Why, the women in his tribe run around practically naked. Remarkable how modesty is culturally determined. In our civilization, a woman is immodest if she exposes her body. And here a woman is immodest if she conceals it. This Chief Araya of yours is becoming a pet peeve of mine. He's a stern moralist, almost in the mold of an Old Testament prophet.

How would you like to drive the jeep to Porto, Sao Diego? What for? The Institute is sending me an assistant. Oh, really? A highly qualified scientist and an erudite scholar. Well, that killed it. Would you pick him up and bring him back here? I don't know, Aunt Rose. Tell me, does life get its ideas from the movie? Because he's tall and he's good looking and he's not old.

He's young. And he's everything I've been missing and longing for in a man. Everything I thought was unimportant. How can I describe it? We like so many of the same things. We can talk so easily. We like to dance. You understand, don't you? And he was even honorable. Notice I said was.

Isn't it a glorious night? Tell me, Dennis, have you read the Stevenson-Halley analysis of the South American Indian languages? Oh, yes, sir. Do you agree? Well, I think their premise is correct, but it sheds no new light. If you boys are going to talk shop again, I think I'll turn in. My dear, you haven't finished your dinner. You can't go to bed yet, Velma. We have to have our dance. Professor, do you mind if I ask your wife to...

Dennis, Velma, I would rather you two didn't do any more dancing. Now what's the matter? Well, it seems that this kind of thing is shocking to the natives. You can't be serious. Chief Araya spoke to me about it. Dennis, you understand. Yes, I think I do, sir. These natives are remarkably straight-laced people. You know, it's odd. Our culture sees the savage as free and unfettered.

Actually, they're the prisoners of so many taboos. So am I. Everything, everything wrong that happens from here on is my fault. All my fault. I admit it. We were walking in the forest and suddenly... Don't move! It's all right now.

Just a snake. Just... Just a snake. He wasn't going to bother you. But you disturbed him. I'm sorry I had to shoot him. Sorry? Why, the murderous thing. We do enough to destroy the balance of nature as it is. What did you say? The balance of nature. It means... I know what it means. In my own way, I've destroyed a certain balance of nature. You have? How? And in destroying it, I...

I'm also being destroyed. Slowly. Are you... Something the matter? Hold me. Please hold me. But... Closer. Closer. Thelma, we shouldn't. We should. We should. But this isn't right. Don't you want to? I want to. But I... Then don't talk. Oh, Dennis. Dennis. Dennis.

I love you, Velma. Oh, how I love you, Dennis. Well, then, let's tell Robert. Tell Robert? That's the honest and honorable thing to do. No. Then you can get a divorce. What are you saying? You must divorce Robert. Why? Well, for a hundred reasons. One, you don't love him. Two, you love me. Let's wait. For what? For Robert to die.

Velma. How much longer can he live? Velma, I can't believe you're saying this. Kiss me. No. No, it's not right. Don't you want to love me? Yes. But as my wife. Marry me. How much money do you make? What kind of question is that? A very important question. Well, uh...

I have a research grant for the next 36 months. How much does it pay? $8,800 a year. You can't be serious. Well, why is money so important? We won't starve. Robert has money. He has over $2 million. Think of it. A million. Who cares? I care. It's all going to be mine when he dies.

Do you want me to throw away two million dollars? What does it matter as long as you have love in the house? It matters. It matters. He can't live forever. Oh, please me. But we... Don't talk. You talk too much. Darling, you're not eating. I'm not hungry. You want to go for a walk? Well, we can't go for a walk now.

The whole camp will know. What's the difference? Robert's asleep. I think he's not well. Maybe we'll be free sooner than we think. I can't believe we're having this conversation. Robert is the best friend I have in all the world. He taught me everything I know. And how do I thank him?

I betrayed him. That's an old-fashioned word, darling. Its meaning never changes. Let's tell Robert, now. I can't. I won't. Then I will. I'll swear to him it's a lie. I'll swear you wanted to seduce me, and because I refused, you're trying to... Do you know I think you would? And for you, for you, I betrayed my best friend. I even betrayed myself. Don't look at me like that.

No, Dennis. Please, no. Why do young girls like Velma get themselves into these situations? An extensive literature on the subject of May and December marriages exists. Indeed, a great deal has even been said on the subject on many of our own little tales here. However, the most succinct statement was uttered by Mr. Benjamin Franklin, who observed that where you have marriage without love...

You will soon have love without marriage. I'll be back shortly with Act Three. Against the advice of her Aunt Rose has married a man many years her senior. And way back in Act One, practically all of you were predicting what was bound to happen.

Well, why shouldn't it have happened? It's what usually happens in life, isn't it? The ancient Greeks called this kind of thing fate. And it happens to more people than you would think. Yes. I betrayed myself. Do you hear, Velma? I betrayed myself. Dennis, Robert, he will hear you. Oh, yes. Robert, Robert, mustn't know. I don't feel well.

Yes, Dennis, you don't look well. Maybe you better go back to your tent. Yeah, I'll do that. Do you want me to walk with you? No, no. There are things I have to think about. Think, Dennis. Think about us. Oh, yes. I am thinking about us. Everything will be all right soon. Yes. Soon. Everything will be just fine. Good night, Thelma. Good night.

Velma? Oh, did I wake you? No, no, I've been lying here thinking. Did you and Dennis talk about anything interesting at dinner? Not particularly. He's quite depressed. Oh, really? There was a job to head a research foundation, very prestigious, well-paying, and he put in for it. I didn't know that. I was amazed. I didn't think money and prestige were that important to him.

He was always happy just working in the field. Or so I thought. But evidently it wasn't enough for him. The job. What about the job? He got a letter this morning. The job's been filled. What was that? That was a shot. Yes, Aunt Rose, it was a shot. And it came from Dennis' tent. Something said to me, don't go in there. Don't go in there.

But Robert went in, and after a while, he came out. He's dead. But... I suppose the rejection by the Foundation was a little too much. Oh, it's horrible. I'll have to report this to the authorities. I'd hate to say it was a suicide, but... Maybe, maybe it wasn't. My dear, I know you liked him as I did, and you want to protect his name, but... Well, it's obvious. Oh!

You must come down here, Aunt Rose. You must. I have no one else in the world. Only you can save my life. Help me now. I'm enclosing money for an airline ticket. You take the plane to the city of Brasilia and then a bus to Sao Diego at the edge of the jungle. And I'll meet you there with the jeep. You must come before the 25th of the month. Please, before the 25th.

Because here's what's happened. The day after we buried poor Dennis, that horrible Chief Araya walked into the camp. Friend Robert. Chief Araya, sit. Join us for some refreshment. I am not permitted to eat and drink at your table. Is there a spirit here? An evil spirit. Powerful? A spirit of death. In whose body? Hers. Hers.

My wife? I make the accusation. Of what? The most disgraceful of all crimes. Adultery. How dare you? Please, my dear. Please, my dear? Filthy, disgusting heathen savage dares to slander me and you say please, my dear? Now, chief, who makes this charge? I, Araya, chief of all the forest country, make the charge.

It is my duty. What right do you have? It is my right, my duty. You live in my country. You live by my law. Friend Robert, I have come in peace. Go in peace. I live in peace. What is this? What right does he have to accuse me of... Oh, my poor darling.

The way you dress, to him... To him, it suggested a wanton woman. But I... And the fact that you danced with Dennis means to him that... There... There was never anything. Anything between Dennis and me. It's untrue. We're not talking about absolute truth. We're talking about the truth as he perceives it. And this means... What? It means you'll have to take the test of the bitter water. And if I refuse...

Shall I be stoned to death? Darling, if you refuse, I shall lose the... of the chief. Isn't that too bad? Drink the water. And once and for all, you'll prove to the chief that you are a virtuous woman. I refuse. Come on, darling, what could happen to you? I won't, do you hear me? But why? What could happen to you? What... what are you afraid of? I...

Well, what are you afraid of, my dear? I don't know, Aunt Rose. Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Oh, it's such beautiful country. It isn't. It's hot and humid and there are flies and mosquitoes and bugs and snakes. Now, dear, pull yourself together. I don't know what to do. Well, if the water isn't poison, drink it. What can happen? I'm just scared. Well, then don't.

Drink it. Then Robert loses all the years and effort he's invested in this tribe. Belna, if you are terrified by the prospect of that test, then regardless of the cost, don't take it.

Take it. And if I don't, then Robert will surely divorce me. Well, that might be best for you both. Oh, no, not now. Not after these five wretched years. I never knew how miserable a woman could be. I may have tried to tell you that a long time ago. I know. You were right. You were always right. But that doesn't help me now.

It's visibly fading. He can't live much longer. He has two million dollars. Velma, you must forget about the money. How can I forget? That's all I've lived for. It's my money and I won't give it up. Well, darling...

It seems your choices are obvious. Drink the water or lose the money. There must be another way. You did have an affair with Dennis? Yes. Well, turn the Jeep around and come with me. No. It's a crazy superstition of savages. I won't give up a fortune. I'll drink that water and spit in his eye. All right, then. You've decided. All right.

Thank you for seeing me, Chief. You come in peace? Oh, yes, certainly. How may I serve you? You are a fine woman. Thank you.

Fine-looking woman. Thank you. Uh, my niece, Robert's wife. Ah. This test. It is to be tomorrow evening? Yes. Oh, it's very upsetting to her. Why? What is there to fear? She is innocent. Chief. She is strong as...

as the women in your tribe. She comes from another world. You are a man of wisdom. You understand another world where customs are different. A world where women may commit adultery? No. Even your world says no.

Even missionaries from your world say your God says no. But she is very upset. Why? If she is innocent, what is there to fear? Let the drums be silent. Thelma!

Wife of Robert, I accuse you of infidelity. Do I speak truly? Answer him. No. Shall you then submit to the test of the bitter water? Yes. Here, I have filled the cup from the spring. Take it. Drink. Aunt Rose. One moment. Aunt Rose.

Chief, may I drink from that cup first? Anyone who chooses may drink from the cup. All right. Well, well, nothing seems to have happened to me. Here, Velma, the water's okay. And, Rose, I don't know what to do. Velma, I have gone as far as I can. I've proved the water isn't poisoned. Now, dear, you...

Must decide. What am I, some stupid native woman? Why am I afraid? Hand me that cup. Take the cup in your two hands. Raise it to your lips. Drink. Now the immortal gods are judging you. Throw the empty cup to the ground. And Rosa...

Bill. Bill, my boy. Child, you're all right. You're all right. Aunt Rosa. I see Dennis. He's pointing that gun at me. He wants to kill me, too. He wants to take me with him. No. I don't want to die. Stop him. He wants to kill me. No. No, she isn't. She is dead. Oh, she...

She can't be. She is dead. The immortal gods have spoken. How do these things happen? We do know that people die of fright, of remorse, of all the unknown ways that silently attack the mind. Robert died a week later. The shock was obviously too great for him as well. Velma was wrong. Robert didn't have two million.

He had five. And all of it went to a research foundation, which is where all of it, except for a small bequest to her, would have gone anyhow. On the other hand, everything we have, we give to you, as I shall explain when I return in a few moments. ♪♪

The question that faced us in the beginning still confronts us here at the end. What is success? According to the poetic Mr. Thomas Gray, all that beauty and all that wealth ever gave awaits alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

If this is true, then the only really successful creatures in this world are the worms. But if we cannot guarantee you success, we can promise you enjoyment if you tune us in seven times each week. Our cast included Jennifer Harmon, Arnold Moss, Joan Shea, and Robert Dryden. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown.

And now, a preview of our next tale. He can get out and kill somebody else? But I don't think he will. Think? You're willing to take a chance because you don't think he will? Well, what else can I go on but my own judgment? How do you know he won't kill somebody? I don't. Any more than I know I won't. Or you won't. Or anybody else won't.

Except possibly your mother, and I can't give you any guarantee about her, if it comes to that. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like... You've done a terrible thing. I don't think so. And you're going to regret it. I hope not. Well, you will. You'll see. When you're responsible for another murder, you're going to be very, very sorry for what you've done. Jack, Jack, please. If he kills somebody else, you'll be responsible. You'll be the murderer yourself.

Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by Sinoff, the sinus medicines, and Anheuser-Busch Incorporated, brewers of Budweiser. This is E.G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams.

♪♪

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At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts will check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car of business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car of business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our Carful Vehicle Review, where our experts will check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

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You are trapped in the dank darkness of a ruined plantation house, and somewhere in the pitch-black room is a homicidal maniac armed with a knife, groping for you, trying to prevent your escape. ♪♪

Escape, produced by William N. Robeson, directed tonight by Richard Sanville, and carefully plotted to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight we escape to a deserted sandpit off the coast of Georgia where terror stalks under the Spanish moss, as Joseph Hergesheimer tells it in Wild Oranges. ♪♪

What could have appeared more innocent of danger than that barren, low-lying shore of southern Georgia? What could have seemed less laden with terror than that lovely little cove, so tranquil and well-sheltered, so warmly bathed in late afternoon sun as we dropped the anchor of our catch and prepared our mooring? And yet there was something. First it was an odor of a grove of wild orange trees in late bloom, growing defiantly amid the tangled undergrowth of the shore.

The scent was strong and exotic and heady. And as I smelled it, I felt a vague uneasiness. Then as I watched the shore and Halvard, sole member of my crew, furled the sails, the mirror of the cove was shattered by a movement. First I thought it was a fish leaping and playing in the water.

Came around a spit of land from an inner bay. And then Halbert was beside me. That's queer, sir. Huh? I would have bet there was nobody within miles of here. But there's someone swimming. Huh? Yes. It's a girl. Aye. She'll be surprised when she discovers us, no doubt. And embarrassed. Oh, she swims well, doesn't she? As if she's been born in the water. Ah, yeah. She's seen us. Yes. Now she's running away.

That sprint would win an Olympic race. I wonder what she's doing here, where she comes from. Perhaps there. Hmm? Where? Through the trees. There's a house. You can hardly see it. I spotted it a moment ago. Oh, yeah, so there is. Oh, but it's a ruin. It's rotting away. No one could have lived in that since the Civil War. Well, there may be others back there. Yes, but this coast is deserted. Marked a swamp on the chart. I don't know, sir. Hmm. It's strange. Very strange.

Yes, it was strange. And strangest still was this vague uneasiness I'd felt. As twilight fell, the aroma of the wild oranges was overpowering. Suddenly, without knowing why, I slipped on a jacket, went to the side and dropped into the tender. Halvard stood by to cast off. He asked no questions and I said nothing. What could I say? I didn't know myself why I was going. I pulled the tender up on the soft sand of the beach and walked up a dim path through the orange grove.

The scent of the blossoms was full of such wild sweetness that I picked an orange and tasted it. It was bitter, of a pungence that was new and rare and strangely delicious. The dim moonlight only accentuated the ruin of the house. There were other smaller ramshackle buildings scattered about, overgrown with weeds and creeping vines. This had once been a great plantation. Now it lay still and lifeless. Then I saw the light.

Around the side were a smaller portico held off the weeds. A single doorway was framed in the pale light of an inner lamp. As I approached, I saw a shadow move across it. So swiftly, so furtively, that it was gone before I realized it had been a man. Then I saw her, sitting on the portico, rocking softly in her chair. What do you want? Nothing. When I came ashore, I thought no one was living here. You're from the white boat that sailed in at sunset? Yes, and I'm returning immediately.

It was like magic. Suddenly, without a sound, you were anchored in the bay. I... I've robbed you, too. Some of your oranges are in my pocket. You won't like them. They've run wild. We can't sell them. They have a distinct flavor of their own. I should be glad to have some on my boat. All you want. My man will get them and pay you. Please, don't. Oh, Nicholas attends to that. Won't you sit down? My father was here when you came up, but he went in.

Strangers trouble him. I should be getting back. I'm sorry to have disturbed you and your father. No. No, it was nothing. Good night, then. Good night. That was all.

A fragment of commonplace conversation. But it was enough. Now the uneasiness I felt, the strangeness of this place took shape for me. I saw it in her lovely, fragile face. I heard it in her voice. There'd been a hidden terror, a terrible, controlled fright that approached hysteria. There'd been a warning in it, and something else, a plea.

By the time I got back to the boat, I was completely unnerved, and Halvard made matters worse. You find anything, sir? There are people living there. Well, there'll be water then. Maybe we could stay here a couple of days, huh? What do you mean? Well, this is good anchorage, sir. I'd like to unship the propeller, and the topside could do with a coat of varnish. No, we're going on south. Aye, sir. No. No, wait, Halvard. Of course, you're right. We need a couple of days' work before we head into blue water. We'll do it here. ♪♪

And so we stayed. In the light of morning, the strange dread I'd felt seemed foolish, especially when I went ashore and found the girl looking young and fresh and fragile, fishing off the little pier in the inner bay. She had a pathetic little rod and line, so I got our tackle from the boat and landed a big rockfish for her, enough for several dinners.

We were carrying the fish to the house when we came on a pale, thin ghost of a man sitting on the portico. He started a swift retreat, but too late. Father, wait. This is my father, Litchfield Stope. How do you do, sir? Really? Really, you are? No, I can't. Strangers, they... Father, you must manage yourself better. You know I wouldn't bring anyone to the house who would hurt us. And see, we are fetching you a splendid rockfish. Ah, yes. So you are.

We are all alone here, sir. The man is away. My daughter and I. The fish, yes, acceptable. If you will carry it in for me. Nicholas would do it, but he's away. And the father isn't strong. This way. We have no ice. I'm going to put it in water. In here, right there. Thank you. You've been very nice.

Now I suppose you'll go on across the world. Not tonight. We're staying here, making repairs. Where do you come from? And where are you going? From Cape Cod. I'm going to the Guianas. Isn't that South America? I've traveled far on maps. I was born here in this house, and I've never been 50 miles away.

Oh, that's incredible. You seem like a girl who's been everywhere in the world and had the best education, everything. My father has many books in there, that's all. Your eyes are remarkable. Gray-green like olive leaves and magnetic. I came ashore to ask you if you had a large water supply and if I might fill my casks. Of course. Rainwater the cistern's full. I'll send my man Halbert then. Yes. They're...

There's something else in your eyes, in your voice. What is it? Fear? Fear? Why, no, of course not. What should I be afraid of? I don't know, but I saw it in your father's face, too. It's only your imagination. Yes, no doubt. Goodbye, then. Thank you for the fishing. Strange how this girl should upset me so. I tried to resist, but that evening I found myself going back to her.

tying the tender to the little pier I watched as she came to meet me. I'm glad you came. The fish waited... Oh, don't tell me. I'd rather not know. I might be tempted to mention it in the future, and I'm sure it would sound like a fish story. But it was imposing. Nicholas waited. He's our man. He's back. Let's stay here by the sea. It's so lovely in the moonlight. All right. Oh, it is nice here. I lied to you today about fear.

I suppose I am afraid. I suppose my father has passed some of his fear on to me. Why is he afraid? Well, that's a long story, going back to the first war. Please, tell me. Well, he was a young man then, and he didn't go to war. It wasn't that he was a coward, exactly. He just couldn't adjust to it, mentally. People mocked him, laughed at him, and threatened him. That's when a sort of perpetual fear started. He ran away...

He met my mother and married her. They came here. None of us has ever left this lonely place. Never will, perhaps. Your mother? She's dead. Loneliness killed her. Perhaps it's no wonder that I sound timid or afraid. Perhaps I am. Aren't you lonely, too? I don't know anything else.

But what about you? Who are you that you go sailing about the world with only your sailor for company? Oh, I'm nobody. My name is John Woolfolk. And you do nothing but sail about the world? Nothing. Why? Well, let's say I don't like modern society. Let's say I don't like entanglements. I see. Oh, I didn't mean... You needn't apologize. I envy you your freedom. I sit here a great deal.

And watch the ships far out there on their water roads. You are enviable. Sailing where you like. Safe and free. Safe and free. There is something more than you've told me. More behind this fear in your voice. No. But perhaps I can help. No. No, please. What's that? It's Nicholas. Blowing on the conch, I've got to go in. I'll come with you. No. No, please. No. Don't come. No.

You'll be going soon. Tomorrow, perhaps. Goodbye. Now I knew the terror I'd only sensed was real. This girl was possessed by fear. This house held some terrible secret. What could it be? Next morning, Halbert suggested we repaint the engines, and I agreed. We'd stay another day or two.

Later, Halvard went in to fill a cask of water. He came back without the cask and livid with rage. There was some idiot in that house. Next time I'll take the pistol. What do you mean? Where's the cask? It was broken. How? It was filling it at the cistern, and this idiot, a huge hulking brute, came out of the house. He told me to get away. Well, I tried to explain that we had permission, but he came at me with a knife. Gibberish. Well, I hit him, but it was like hitting an ox.

He put his foot on the cask and crushed it. I'll see about this. You be careful, sir. The man's not right. He's dangerous. Plenty dangerous.

I went ashore and around to the back door of the house. Millie wasn't in sight when I knocked a lumbering giant with pig-like eyes came to the door. What do you want? I take it you're Nicholas, the man who broke my water cask. It was full of our water. I'm not going to argue with you. I came ashore to instruct you to keep your hands off my property and my sailor. Let our water be. I told you I wouldn't discuss the matter. I don't have to justify myself to you. Just remember, keep your hands off... Don't get me started. What do you mean, started? Here, don't get me started. Mind, I warned you. Don't get me started. Put down that knife.

Go away now. Don't get me started. Go away. Don't get me started. I'm telling you. Nicholas, stop. What is this? What's the matter? Nothing. Nicholas and I have had a little misunderstanding, that's all. It's nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about, I said. But when I got back to the boat, I couldn't help asking myself why I'd left her with that brute. I just about made up my mind to go ashore again to check up when I saw her waving on the beach. She wanted to visit the boat. I went and got her.

There was no hint of terror in her face now, just shining girlish wonderment at the polished metal and the gleaming wood of the ketch. I offered to take her for a sail and her face lighted up like a child's. But when we reached the heavy swells outside the reef, her face got white and she froze. It's... it's so big. Are you frightened? I'll turn back. I'd rather you didn't. I must learn. I'm not a child. No, we're going back.

Before we got to the anchorage, her panic was almost out of control. But safely moored once more, she calmed slowly and said... How strange. To be forced back to this place I loathe by my own cowardice. It's not cowardice. The sea is frightening to those unused to it. Come, you must forget it now. Havard will have tea for us in a moment. How do you like our boat? Quite wonderful. Have you nothing else to care for?

No place or people on... None. And you are satisfied? Hardly. All the things most men value were taken from me in an instant. Can you talk about it? I haven't for 12 years. Not to anybody, but now, yes, I think I can. You see, we were just married. Only a few days. We were very, very happy. Then, in one instant, she was dead.

It was a silly, stupid accident thrown from a horse without rhyme or reason. So you left everything, taking your revenge on the world. You could put it that way, I suppose. I simply don't want to take a second chance to become involved and be hurt. But that's living, to be hurt. Do you think you can escape so easily? I must go. Father will be waiting. Why so suddenly? There's...

Yes, I see. That's Nicholas on the beach looking out here, isn't it? Yes. Dinner will be ready. Why do you have a servant like that? That man's dangerous. You mustn't say that. Please don't. Just take me in. Please. Now I knew that she too was afraid of Nicholas. I could see it in her eyes. Why then did I let her go to him? I don't know.

I was confused, I guess. That night a storm broke, a raging wind and rain, and to match my tortured mood, I hardly slept. Her face was always before my eyes, and by morning I knew that I must do something. I rode the tender in through a drizzling rain. I went up through the orange grove and stopped in the bushes by the house.

Someone was coming out of the house and I crouched down out of sight. It was Millie. I rose and called her. Millie! Oh, it's you. I was just coming out to look. I was afraid you'd gone out. The sea is like a pack of wolves. I won't go alone, not without you. What are you saying? That's madness. No, I've got to talk to you, Millie. There's a lot that needs explaining. Things that I have a right to know. No, not here. Come. Come.

She led me into one of the smaller ruined buildings. What must have been a store in the days of the great plantation. We crouched far back in the dripping shadows of a corner. Now... Millie. Millie, I love you. For the first time in 12 years, I'm living again, and I love you. I know nothing of love. It's easily learned. Well, perhaps if things were different someplace else, I might care very much. Then I'm going to take you away someplace else. Make things different. Give you the chance. No. No.

It's too late. You came too late. Why, Millie? Why? What is it? What is it you fear? Nicholas. He's nothing. Nothing to be afraid of. Has he been bothering you? He says he's crazy about me. He says I must marry him or... Where is he now?

No, you mustn't, John. Something frightful would happen. Not frightful, just unfortunate for Nicholas. You don't understand. He's not... not human. There's something about him. What about him? He came here in April. We were glad to get him. Servants are impossible to get back here in the wilderness. He would work for the smallest wages. Only a few days ago, I found out why he was glad to be here. I was cleaning his room, and I found this. Let's see.

Wanted for murder. Iska Nicholas. Homicidal maniac. He knows I found it. He knows. And he's been furious. Then you came. And he ran and hid in the pines. But he told me if I spoke about it, then it would happen to me. And if I left with you, it would happen to Father. You see, he thinks I'm in love with you. He told me to send you away. He said you must leave today. Millie, I should have realized. He says I must not be away for longer than an hour. I must go. Look, Millie.

It'll take us a couple of hours to get the boat ready. I'll come for you tonight at eight. Now, tell him you saw me and I promised to go, and act quietly. Say you... well, say you've been upset. You'll give him his answer tomorrow. Then at eight, bring your father and walk out to the wharf. That's all. But do it without hesitation or preparation. Oh, don't let him hurt us. Oh, please don't! Not now. He's finished, Millie. But do as I say. It won't be long, hardly three hours, and then freedom. Freedom?

Now that I knew, now that there was to be action, I felt better. Halvard and I got the catch ready for sailing, and 8 o'clock we tied it up to the little pier. The storm had abated slightly, but it was still raining. I got up on the dock and waited for Millie. Ten minutes passed, then 20. Something was wrong.

i told halbert to wait there with the tender then i walked slowly up to the house it was dark i went up to the side portico to the heavy door tiny crack of light showed under it i pushed it open the light came from a parlor to the right i looked in on the floor lay a body old litchfield stope he was dead crushed his arm twisted grotesquely under him it was not a sound in the house

Slowly I walked through the downstairs rooms. Nothing. Then back in the hall I heard a slight creak. Upstairs, someone had moved. Was it Millie, alive? Or Nicholas, lying in wait? I groped slowly up the stairs. I dared not use my flashlight. It would have made me a target for his knife. The upstairs hall was pitch black, and still there was no sound. I inched my way along the wall, slowly.

Then I stumbled on a loose board. The pistol flew out of my hand, but the stumble saved my life. The same instant I felt Nicholas lunge. Heard the knife sing past my ear and thud into the wall. Felt his great bulk smashing on my shoulders. My gun was somewhere on the dark floor. His knife was embedded in the wall. Now we were grappling hand to hand, rolling on the floor. Kicking, tearing, gouging, crushing. My strength and wit against the massive bulk of a maniacal killer. I...

How many minutes did that unequal struggle last? I don't know. It seemed an hour. Several times as if by common consent we rested for minutes at a time, locked in tight embrace. Once we rolled apart and lay panting, the breath aching in my throat. Then I heard him groping along the wall, searching for the knife or the gun.

I threw myself on him again, but he was too big, too furious. I felt my strength ebbing away. His fingers were closing over my throat. With one last effort, I tried to throw him off, to roll him off. I staggered dazily to my feet and looked up. He'd fallen through the banister down the stairwell. Nicholas had landed on the bottom. He lay there on the stairs, sprawled, his head at a grotesque angle. But he was not dead, only stunned.

I leaned against the wall, looked at him stupidly. There was something, there was something I was trying to remember. What was it? Then she came down the steps and I remembered. Millie. I had to walk right past him. There was no other way. Right past his head and my skirt.

I think we'd better go away. It's quite impossible here with him in the hall. We have to pass so close. Millie, yes, we'll leave at once. I must tell you about my father. You know, in Virginia, the woman tied an apron on the door because he would not go to war, and that preyed on his mind, and he was afraid of the slightest thing. Yes, yes, I know, but we must go. Things upset him so. He had no strength. To hear him talk like this like a sick child was almost more than I could bear. But now I heard something.

Nicholas had gotten up. He stood there and stared for a moment at us. Then he started slowly up the stairs. He was going for the knife. The least little thing upsets him. Millie, we've got to go. I was to meet a man. We were going away someplace where it'd be peaceful. He said at 8 o'clock. But Nicholas suspected, you see. He asked why Father had put on his heavy winter clothes. Then when I tried to go out, he pushed me. Millie. And do you know what Father did then? He came up and he said...

Don't do that. Take your hands off my daughter. His lips shook a little, but he said it. That's the important thing. Yes, yes, of course. Your father was a brave man after all. Now come, that man is waiting for you. There's no time to lose. Father said, take your hands off my daughter. Nicholas killed him, of course. Crushed him like a little mosquito.

But it was a brave thing to do. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to risk whatever injury it might do to her mind. I could hear Nicholas coming back. I swept her up in my arms and carried her out into the night down the path to the little pier. Behind me, I could hear Nicholas crashing through the brush like a giant animal in pursuit.

Are you all right, sir? Yes. About done in, but all right. Here, help me get her in the boat. Yes, sir. There. Somebody's coming. It's Nicholas. He's got a knife. Good. They wanted to get back at him. You get in, sir. I'll take care of him. Come on.

Halvard went to intercept Nicholas on the path. I heard them meet and struggle for a moment. Then a stooped figure came walking slowly onto the pier. I prepared to shove the boat out into the water and then... All right, sir. It's me. Oh, Halvard. Where's Nicholas? They stopped him. He was all pumped up. Are you hurt? Just a scratch. I missed his knife at first in the dark. It's nothing. Good. Let's get away from here then.

I held Millie in my arms as Halvard rode to the catch erratically, I suppose because of the storm. We were ready to cast off in two minutes. The last obstacle would be the narrow passing out of the cove. In this storm, it would be dangerous, very dangerous. I started to take Millie into the cabin. No! There's Nicholas! In the doorway! Nonsense! Nicholas is dead! You're on my boat, Millie! You're safe, Millie! John Woolfolk? I am John Woolfolk. But he...

You didn't come. Yes, I did, Millie. And you're safe. Come. I want to stay here. You sit here beside Halvard. I'm going up front to take soundings. In this van, you won't be able to hear me if I call. No, but you can hear me. Remember, we've only three feet clearance. You'll have to hold it steady through the passage. I'll manage it. Halvard, this is no time for pretense. How do you feel? All right. I've taken knives before.

Used to scratch. All right, we'll fix it as soon as we get outside. Now let's go. Turn over the engines, pull up anchor. The boat headed into the tearing wind of the storm, sped swiftly toward the narrow inlet. A foot too far on either side and we would hit. In this sea that would mean death for us all. I stood far up on the bow, taking soundings, feeling out the passage. Hooray!

The howling wind carried my call back to Halvard. The boat veered. I realized he must have lost a lot of blood. Halvard! Halvard, steadier! Slowly, haltingly, it came around. Three and a half! But it was anything but steady. The boat waved and swung as if an amateur hand were on the wheel. In a moment, we might hit. Three and a quarter! We were in the passage. Hold steady, Halvard! Steady! For just another moment! Just one moment!

We're through! Good boy, Halvard, I called. But when I went back, it was not Halvard at the wheel. It was Millie. Millie, her hands steady, her eyes washed clear of any madness. Millie with a tight little smile on her face, but no fear. And Halvard lay rolling with the swells in the bottom of the cockpit. I'm afraid he's dead, John.

He was wounded worse than you thought. Albert dead? He told me to take the wheel. Said it was life or death. Then he slid down like that. When? When was this? Back there in the passage. Just when you said three and a half. I'm afraid I wasn't very good. But I held on. Oh, Millie, you were wonderful. No, not yet. But I'll learn, John. I'll learn. I'll learn.

♪♪

Escape is produced by William N. Robeson and was directed tonight by Richard Sanville. You have just heard Wild Oranges by Joseph Hergesheimer, adapted for radio by John Dunkel, with Paul Freese as John Woolfolk, Jeanette Nolan as Millie Stopes, Bill Conrad as Halvard, Jack Crucian as Nicholas, and Sherry Hall as Litchfield Stopes. The special musical score was conceived and conducted by Cy Fuhrer. Next week...

You've planned it very well. She's dead, and you feel no remorse. Your escape has worked out perfectly. There's nothing to worry about, except perhaps an unexpected Christmas present. ♪♪

Next week, we escape with John Collier's grim story, Back for Christmas. Good night, then, until this same time next week, when once again we offer you Escape. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.

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This is John Dixon Carr.

Each evening at this time, Murder by Experts brings you a story of crime and mystery, which has been chosen for your approval by one of the world's leading detective writers. Those experts who are themselves masters of the art of murder and can hold tensity at its highest. Tonight's guest expert is Mr. Hugh Pentecost, author of many memorable thrillers.

who has selected a story by a young newcomer you'll do well to watch, Andrew Evans. Be very careful as you listen, for, as Mr. Pentecost says of this thriller, the story has not only a twist, but an unforeseen double twist, which takes one completely by surprise. And now we present Summer Heat. Look now at the old elm.

The ivy-covered buildings on the campus of a small Midwestern university. It's a fine June afternoon when you hear laughter and the greetings of the reunion of the class of 36. Twelve years have passed.

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

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

Just think, 12 years. Oh, they sure have gone fast. Too fast to suit me. Say, Paul, you've turned awful gray for only 33. Well, he always did take things too seriously...

I suppose by now, Paul, you're one of the biggest lawyers in the state, huh? How's Marsha? Yeah, you were all set to marry her after graduation, remember? Yes, and you were going to become her father's junior law partner. Oh, you sure had a sweet set-up there. Well, things worked out a little differently. You see, that party we had graduation night, do you remember it? Remember it? How could we forget it? Oh, that was a real...

blow out. And were you tight, Paul. You know, that party sort of changed my whole life. Changed your life? Well, how? Well, I don't remember much about the party itself. I guess I had too many drinks. In fact, I don't remember anything until I woke up the next morning. I could hear old Trinity ringing. I awoke to find myself on the couch in my living room. It was noon. The room was hot.

Hey, fella!

Hey, it's noon. Wake up. Come on, wake up. I shook him. He had flopped over and looked up at me with staring eyes. He was dead. And there was a knife in his chest. My hunting knife. I stood stunned, staring down at the body on my bed. The dead man was an utter stranger to me. He was neatly dressed in old clothes. And my knife, my knife was in his heart. I killed him. I couldn't remember when or how or why, but I'd killed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goodbye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Take it easy, Jensen. I'm coming. As I stepped on the gas, I muttered a prayer of thanks for old Johnson, the janitor of the medical school building, who had called Dugan just as he was reaching for the blanket that covered my passenger. It was a few minutes after 1 as I drove out of town. I could picture Marsha's father fuming in my lateness. The sun was scorching in my open car as I drove along River Road, looking for a place to hide the body. I needed one where there were trees to hide me.

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

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

searching endlessly for a safe place to stop. Then I realized I was running out of gas. I saw a gas station ahead, and I decided to stop there. It was a risk, but I had to take it. Okay, mister. That's five gallons. Want me to check your oil? No, no, thanks. How much? That's $1.15. Whew, boy, it's hot, isn't it? Yes, it's hot all right. Here you are. That's $1.15 out of five. Now get your change.

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

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

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

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

Stop hiding and come out. I know you're here. I just saw your car through the window. You better come out if you know what's good for you. He'd seen my car. He knew I was in the room. But if I kept my head, there was a chance, just a chance. All right, Johnson. Here I am. Boxster, eh? So it's you, is it? You're the one... Johnson, wait a minute. Let me explain. Explain, eh? After last night, I'm not listening to any fancy stories. I'm the one who gets blamed when...

What's that on the floor behind you there? On the floor? Nothing, Johnson. Do you think I'm blind or something? Step aside and let me see what... Why, it's a body. Yes, it's a body. So that's it. I thought you were trying to steal one. Instead, you were bringing it. Yes, I was bringing it. And just what were you going to do with that gentleman on the floor? Put him back in the tank with the rest? Yes, that's right. I...

I thought he might not be noticed. As if I wouldn't have known. Well, go on. Call the cops. Let's get it over with. All right, Baxter. Of course, I don't have to call the cops. Nobody knows about this but you and me. What do you mean? Well, I was going to make a report, but this way there's no harm done. So I might be able to overlook the whole thing...

If I was persuaded properly. You might overlook it. That's right. You just leave this fellow to me and there's no fuss because nobody's the wiser. You'd do that? You'd keep your mouth shut? I guess I could be persuaded to. How much? Well, suppose we say $50. $50.

$50. That isn't much, considering what would happen if I reported you. No, no, it isn't $50. That's very cheap to help me cover up a murder. Murder? Ah, more of your jokes. I'm not talking about murder. I'm talking about putting number 37 here back in his proper place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Exploring Tomorrow. And now, here is your guide to these adventures of the mind, John Campbell. When men start a new project, it starts with a plan.

The plan has to be carried out, worked through, the details arranged for. You don't have any trouble until the thing you did not expect turns up. So far human research has achieved an unmanned satellite in space. The sole purpose of any of these devices, any machine, is to serve human beings.

The machine goes first to try things out. But the sole purpose of doing it is so that men can follow. And women, too. But there are problems of purely human nature that sometimes complicate the most scientific of plans. Champagne. Oh, man.

There you are, my dearest. My darling, my love, Champagne. Oh, good heavens, Jeff. You'd think we were getting married all over again. Oh, why not? Let's make this our second wedding day. A celebration to end all celebrations. Besides, it is almost our first anniversary.

Happy almost first anniversary, Lieutenant Alice Wilson. Oh, no. Now, if this is going to be a late wedding feast, you must call me Mrs. Captain Jeffrey Britton. I demand my rights as a legally wedded wife, even if you do outrank me. Don't giggle. It's not proper for an officer in the United States Space Service to giggle.

And for goodness sake, don't tell me the champagne bubbles tickle your nose. Oh, they don't. I love the stuff. Pour me another. Another? My dear Mrs. Britton, that was the finest half pint of domestic champagne available, which is all a mere captain can afford. There is no more. What a shame. The finest rocket pilot in the United States, and you can't even afford another bottle? No, not even for going away, Farley.

Oh, Jeff. It is a going-away party, isn't it? I won't see you for six months. Now, come on, sweetheart. Don't cloud up and rain. It's good duty, and you'll be back soon. Six months isn't forever, you know. Oh, I know. But being stuck up on an artificial satellite for six months without you isn't my idea of fun. Oh, look, sweetheart. You'll like it up there. It's the oldest and biggest of our manned space stations. It's the oldest and biggest of our manned space stations.

It has plenty of room inside and a crew of 400 officers and men. It even rotates on its axis to give you artificial gravity. At least you don't have to worry about space sickness. Oh, Jeff, don't be so serious. It's not the fact that I have to be up there that bothers me. It's just that I'm going to miss you. I thank you so much for that. I'll miss you, too.

But there's nothing we can do about it. How right you are. The space service has no use whatsoever for personal feelings. Except, of course, that they hope you don't get killed. Do you know what? I give up what? I was shown an instruction film. Told all about Space Station One. You know how safe it is.

Did you know that every compartment has individual heating and oxygen supply in case of emergency? And did you know that all the walls are filled with a plastic self-sealing compound like a car tire so that if a small meteor hits it, it won't lose too much air? Sure, it's safe. A thousand miles straight up over Earth and you're as safe as in your bed at home. Hooray for safety! Hmm.

And now, my dear cheapskate husband, will you do me the favor of buying me another bit of champagne? I will have to buy it myself. Oh, darling, darling, this is our last night together for six months. So I suppose I'll have to buy more champagne. Hey, waiter!

Nurse Jenkins sent in Lieutenant Britton. She'll be right in, Doctor. Do you want to see me, Major James? I certainly do. Being medical officer of Space Station One isn't an easy job under any circumstances. But you have made it ten times as difficult. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble, sir. You certainly have.

I just got the laboratory report. The test was positive. It was? Oh, that's wonderful. Wonderful? What do you mean, wonderful? Well, I... My dear Lieutenant Britton, has it escaped your flittery female mind that you were in Space Station One in an orbit more than a thousand miles from the surface of Earth? Have you forgotten that? No, sir. Well, if I had Captain Britton up here, I'd personally break his neck, but he's not.

He's safe down on Earth while you're the one who's going to have the baby. Major James, neither my husband nor I intended this to happen. Of course not, but it did nevertheless. Oh.

I suppose it's not your fault, Lieutenant, but it leaves me in an awkward position. What are we going to do? This is a space satellite, not an obstetrics ward. I have neither the drugs nor the equipment to take care of you. Of course not. You'll have to send me back down to work when the next rocket leaves. You've been up here two months now, and your baby is due in another seven months. Do you think I would risk sending you down to Earth in a rocket at nine gravities of acceleration?

Not at this stage of the game, Lieutenant. How can I stay here? There's nothing else you can do. I'll have to contact the hospital at White Sands Rocket Base and have them send up the equipment I need on the regular supply rockets. Whether we like it or not, you'll be staying with us for a while. And we're going to have to take very good care of you.

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

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

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

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

Yes, sir, it is a democracy which lets us tell the stories of such a legendary character as Boleg Bill with a twinkle in our eyes and a chuckle in our throats. And so long as we continue to laugh together as a people, ladies and gentlemen, we will live together as a nation.

Alice had called attention to the fact that the space station had not been adequately designed. It had been designed all right to take care of men and of women, but taking care of human individuals is not enough if we are to really enter the space stage. We have to take care of the human race.

That's something Alice was bringing to attention. Here's some more of the laboratory reports on Lieutenant Alice Bruton, Doctor. Oh, yes, from her last checkup. How is she doing, Nurse? Seems to be doing quite well, Doctor. The light gravity is helping, I think. Only 59 days to go. Less than two months if our figuring is correct. I have nearly all the equipment I need now, and by the time she's ready, it'll all be here. I've been checking it off the list as the supply rockets unload each piece.

You don't have far to go. You know, nurse, five months ago when I found out that Lieutenant Britton was going to have a baby, I was really worried.

But now it looks as though there's going to be nothing to it. One of the doctors from White Sands Rocket Base is coming up next month to help, and everything ought to go pretty smoothly. I was sure worried for a while. Why were you worried, Doctor? After all, women aren't supposed to go around having babies in space stations. Well, it looks as though Lieutenant Britton's going to set a precedent. Good heavens, I hope not. If all the women in the space service get that idea, we'll be running a nursery up here, not a fueling station. Well, you'll just have to...

Emergency signal. There's been an accident. Phone, Doctor. Yeah, I'll get it. Sick Ward, Major James speaking.

What? Have you got her out of there? Well, then put her on a stretcher and get her to Ward 3. I'll be right down. What happened, Doctor? A small meteorite hit Section 6. And Lieutenant Britton was in there when it happened. They're bringing her up now, but there's no way of knowing how badly she's hurt. All right, be careful. Easy now. Now put the stretcher down on the bed. Easy. That's it. Yeah.

Now, just take it easy, Lieutenant. All right, men. She'll be all right now. Thanks. Close the door, please. Oh. Oh.

Oh. I heard all over. You'll be okay. Nurse Jingles will bring down a hypo in a few minutes. You'll be all right. I think I'll live, Major. But my ears are still ringing. You must have lost air. Can you tell me what happened? I was in section six checking for meters. All of a sudden, bam! A little meteor punctured the outer wall. Just a little bit of rock the size of a marble. Oh.

But it was moving fast enough to put a hole in the wall. It sure was. Then what? When I wasn't here, the air started going out into the vacuum of space. The wall itself sealing, but a lot of air left the room before the hole closed. The automatic door closed. My ears were ringing. Everything got fuzzy.

I guess I fainted. You're lucky the meteor was small and moving fairly slowly. The ceiling compound in the wall closed the hole before you lost too much air, really. Your nose isn't bleeding. You haven't got the bends, at least. No, but... I'm afraid the baby's going to be here sooner than we expected. Yes, it looks like it. Don't worry. Seven-month babies are just as good as nine-month ones. And you're a pretty healthy girl. You'll be all right. And so will the baby. I know we will.

Take care of us, will you, Major? Sure. Don't worry. That's what I'm here for. Remember? Yes.

How is she, nurse? Gave her a hypo. She'll be able to relax a little. She's lucky to be alive. It's not all luck. Everything worked automatically. That's what saved her. Well, she's all right now. You want me to prepare the room next to hers as a delivery room? We'll need it soon. Well, that's what I was afraid of. But how soon do you think? Not more than an hour or two, I'd say.

What's the matter, doctor? You look worried. Your premature baby has to have a specialized environment. An incubator. If it doesn't, its chances of survival are small, right? Well, we haven't got an incubator. The nearest one is more than 1,000 miles away. Straight down. The plans that had been made, again, were not sufficient.

You know, many times, a man who is working with machines and knows the machine in full, understands what it does and its functions, has never recognized what its basic nature is. He's too close to it. It's the forest and the trees again. And sometimes somebody who really doesn't know as much about the machine understands it better. Major James speaking. Yes, Colonel.

From where? Europe. Yes, sir. Yes, I understand, sir. Very well, Colonel. Thank you. Oh, brother, that does it. What's the matter now, sir? Our message to White Sands was intercepted. The newscasters have gotten hold of the story. The communications officer just picked up a broadcast from Europe. Big stuff. First baby born in space. Emergency measures being taken.

The whole world knows about it now, and everybody on Earth is praying for Lieutenant Britton and her baby. Big sob story. Oh, Doctor, you may not like all the publicity, and maybe it isn't a good thing in some ways, but personally, I'm kind of glad it happened. Oh? But why? Doctor, that girl may need all that praying. Oh!

Well, we better get things ready, nurse. How long do we have? Half an hour at the outside. My head nurse, Bryson, picks up the preliminaries. Any news? A station commander called.

He said that White Sands is assigned Captain Britton to pilot the rocket that's bringing up the incubator. She'll be glad to see him. She was supposed to have gone back to Earth a month ago. Yeah, it'll probably do her good to see him. How's she feeling now? Pretty fair. I think she'll be all right.

She's got a lot of nerve, that one. She'll be every bit as nervous as she loses that baby. I know, I know. You don't need to remind me. We need an incubator within half an hour and there won't be one here for two hours. We haven't got it and that's that. What can I do? I've tried everything. Can't the construction crew build one? I thought of that first thing. I called the construction officer. He told me that there isn't any spare material up here to build one out of.

It costs plenty to ship stuff up here by rocket, so they only order what they absolutely need. Isn't there anything at all? Well, not unless they cut holes in the space station. And that's what they're doing. They're ripping out one of the partitions. They'll use a heater from a wall and the oxygen operators from a spacesuit. They're trying to get it finished in time. But they won't finish in time, is that it? That's it. They'll get done about 15 minutes before the rocket gets here. There's just no time, that's all. I'm ready!

© BF-WATCH TV 2021

Now, try to take it easy, Lieutenant. Don't rush things. I'm not rushing anything. Now, don't worry about anything. You'll be all right. I know. But I wish Jess was here. Your husband is on his way, Lieutenant. He's taking a special rocket up from White Sands. How long will it be? We'll have to hurry. It'll be a little late, I'm afraid. We have the delivery room already. It won't be long now. I know it won't. Did you...

Get all the stuff you needed. How about the incubator? Well? There... There isn't any incubator. I didn't take the possibility of a premature delivery into account.

It's all my fault. But I've done what I could. Your husband is bringing an incubator up in the rocket. It won't be too long. I think we'll be able to keep the child in good health until he gets here. Looked up...

You're going to Britain. Alice, this is no time to get hysterical. Stop it. I'm not hysterical, Doctor. You are. Look at you. You're so nervous, you can't even think straight. What do you mean? Figure it out for yourself. Take a look around you and ask yourself, why is a space station like an incubator?

Good heavens, of course, that's it.

Can I come in? Yeah. We finally made it. Come over here. Oh, hey, you look fine. How does it feel to be the most famous mother on earth? Huh? Or of it? Oh, I don't care about being famous. It's wonderful just to be a mother. Oh, I don't know.

And how do you feel, Daddy Britton? Oh, wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Say, I brought you an incubator, but Major James said that you won't need it. I asked him why, and he said he felt too foolish about it to explain. He said I should ask you.

What's the story? Well, it was very funny. Poor man was running around in circles worrying about an incubator. He had you bring one up, and I understand he had the construction crew tearing down the walls to make one. Really? Really. And I finally asked him, why is a space station like an incubator?

And he got it right away. Got it? Got what? Oh, don't you see, silly? A space station is a sort of an incubator. It protects us poor, weak humans from the airlessness and extremities of temperature in space. And each room of this station is a separate compartment. They can be self-sustaining if they have to. So what did the major do? He just had one whole room isolated. He raised the temperature, pumped in extra oxygen, and bingo, he had an incubator. Well...

Where is my son? I want to see him. You're a daughter, dear, and she's in the next room. Oh, but you can't go right in. You just wait. You've got a good many years ahead of you to get acquainted with her. All right. I guess I just have to practice getting acquainted with you. Come here. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

There's the impression that science fiction has to do with machines. It's all about gadgets and ray guns. It isn't.

That's why it's science fiction. It has to do with human beings and the problems that human beings will have with the machines we do and must live with. And if the machines aren't properly designed to recognize that their purpose is to serve humanity, they're no good either.

Heard in our cast tonight were Lawson Zerbe, Carol Tytel, and the script was by Randall Garrett. Produced and directed by Sanford Marshall in New York, Guy Wallace speaking. This is the world's largest network. We pause now for station identification.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our Carful Vehicle Review, where our experts will check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car of business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our Carful Vehicle Review, where our experts will check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car of business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

Yes, I'm back. Back to remind you that fear is always just a glance, a touch, a smell, a thought away. We can run away from fear, hide from it, but our mind is a place where terror is trapped. In today's story, we enter a woman's mind, have access to it, to her mental diary. The woman, whose husband is a doctor, has not been well for some weeks.

Her husband, however, does not believe that she is really ill, but, unlike us, he does not have that access to her thoughts and the evil that threatens from the very walls that surround her. It's possible you won't ever feel quite the same about the walls of your own room after you've been exposed to the yellow wallpaper. John is a physician.

And perhaps, I wouldn't say it openly to a living soul, of course, but these are my secretest thoughts, and I must express myself somehow and somewhere. Perhaps that is one reason I do not get well faster. John does not believe that I am sick, or he says not, but of course it may be only to comfort me. And what can one do? If a physician of high standing and one's own husband assure his friends and relatives that there's nothing the matter but temporary nervous depression, well, what can one do?

So I take phosphates or phosphites, whichever it is, and tonics and exercise, and I'm absolutely forbidden to work until I'm well again. What am I to do? Well, at least we're in the country now, and that's always... If I had less opposition and perhaps a little more stimulus, that's what I need. But John says the worst thing I can do is to think about my condition. So I will let it alone and think about the house. It's a lovely house, the most beautiful place.

we were so lucky to find it quite alone and well back from the road and three miles from the village so old with hedges and walls and little gates that lock and a delicious garden so large and shady for me to walk in when i'm a little stronger i sometimes wonder is it haunted there's definitely something strange about it else why should it have stood so long untenanted before john took it he laughs at me for talking that way so does jenny his sister but i don't care

There is something strange about the house. I can feel it. And, can I confess? I don't like this room. Not a bit. No, not a bit. 'Twas a nursery once, I think. The windows are barred for little children. But the paper... The paper looks as if a boys' school had once used this room. It's all stripped off, the paper, in great patches all round the head of my bed, about as far as I can reach.

and in a great place on the other side of the room, low down. I never saw a more dreadful paper in my life. One of those sprawling, flamboyant patterns. All curves. Creeping, uncertain, twisted curves. And the colour is repellent. A smouldering yellow all over, and a sickly sulphuric tint in some patches and a lurid orange in others. No wonder the children hated it. I should hate it myself if I had to live here long.

clean yellow. I'm sitting by the window now, up in this atrocious nursery. I'm glad my case is not serious. Not really serious. But these nervous troubles are depressing. John doesn't know how much I really suffer. He knows there's no reason to suffer, and that satisfies him. I get so unreasonable with him sometimes, and angry with him sometimes. I never used to be so sensitive.

Of course, it's only nervousness. But John says if I'm not careful, I shall lose all self-control. So I try to control myself. Or before him, at least. That makes me very tired. And then I cry. I'm meant to be such a help to John. And such a real comfort. And I think I'm only a burden. And he worries about me. Nobody would know what an effort it is to do what little I'm able. Just to dress and walk about a little, perhaps, and order things. It's lucky Jenny is so good with our baby.

and yet I can't be with him. Oh, it makes me so nervous. I suppose John was never nervous. He laughs at me sometimes about this wallpaper. At first he meant to repaper the room, but afterwards he said that I was letting it get the better of me, and that nothing was worse for a nervous patient than to give way to such fancies. He said that after the wallpaper was changed, it would be the heavy bedstead, and then the barred windows, and then that gate at the head of the stairs, and so on.

and it would not be worth doing much. We're not here for very long, and in a way, I'm getting quite fond of the big room. All but that paper. Yellow wallpaper. I can see the garden out of the window, and the little deep-shaded arbours, and the old-fashioned flowers, and the trees. There's a beautiful shaded lane that runs from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in the paths. But John has told me not to give way to such fancy. So I try. At least I try.

Oh, I wish I could get well faster. But I mustn't think about that either. This paper looks as if it knew what a vicious influence it had. There's a spot where the pattern lolls like a broken neck. And there are two bulbous eyes that stare upside down. I get angry with it. And its impertinence and its everlastingness and... Up and down and sideways they crawl and those unblinking eyes are everywhere. And I never saw such expression in a thing before. An inanimate thing. Although...

Inanimate things can have great expression. I used to lie awake as a child and get more entertainment and terror out of blank walls and plain furniture than most children could find in a toy shop. And I remember what a kindly wink the knobs of our big old desk used to have. And there was one chair that always seemed like a strong friend. I used to feel...

that if any of the other things looked too fierce, I could always hop into that chair and be safe. All safe. All safe. But there is no old chair in this room. Moonlight. And I lie here on this great bed and follow the pattern, hour by hour. How huge the bed is. I believe it is nailed down. I cry at nothing. Not when John is here, of course, or anybody else. But when I am all alone. Like now. Tonight.

I am alone in the house. I will follow the pattern. I will. I will. I start at the corner. The far corner, where the paper hasn't been torn away. I know a little of design, but this thing was never arranged in any design I ever heard of. Each strip is alone. All alone. And the bloated curves, and the flourishes, all in columns. And they connect diagonally.

And they go off in long waves. Slanting waves. Like seaweed. And there is another pattern behind. But only in certain lights. And I can fancy sometimes, sometimes, a formless sort of figure. No! No! No! Oh, such an effort to think straight. I am to use my will. I am to keep well. He says, John says, that no one but myself can help me.

If we had not used the room, the baby would have had it. I would never have a child in such a room for worlds. Oh, it's lucky John kept me here and would not let me get out, for I can stand it ever so much better than a baby. Of course, I never mention it to them anymore. I'm too wise. But I keep watch all the same. I keep watch. There are things in that paper nobody knows but me, or ever will. It's always the same shape, only very numerous.

And it's like a woman stooping down and creeping about behind that pattern. I don't like it. I wish John would take me away from here. The moon shines all round, just as the sun does. I hate it sometimes. It creeps up so slowly. I got up softly a moment ago and went to feel and see if the paper did move. You think you have mastered the pattern, but you never have. Never. It changes as the light changes. No one else knows that.

I imagine a toadstool in joints and an interminable string of toadstools and all budding and sprouting and in endless convolutions and that there is something like it. That is sometimes. It changes so quickly I can never believe it. At night, in any kind of light and in twilight and in candlelight and in lamplight and worst of all in moonlight it becomes bars. The outside pattern. Bars.

It's moonlight now, and the woman behind as plain as can be. I lie still. I just lie still. Oh, I lie down so much now. He says it is good for me, and I am to sleep all I can. But I don't sleep. I can't. Cultivates deceit. I don't tell them I'm awake. Oh, no. And I am almost a little afraid of him, John. And he looks at me so strangely sometimes. And even Jenny looks strangely sometimes. And I think...

I wonder that perhaps it is the paper. I watch him when he doesn't know I watch. And I come into the room suddenly. And I catch him several times looking at the paper. And Jenny looking too. I caught Jenny with her hand on it once. Yesterday.

She didn't know I was there and watching. And when I asked her in a quiet voice and very restrained, and I asked her what she was doing with the paper, she turned round as if she'd been caught stealing and she looked quite angry. And then she said that the paper stained everything it touched and that she'd found yellow marks and smudges on my clothes. And it sounded so innocent, so innocent. But I know she was studying the pattern. And nobody is to find out but me. Not anybody. The woman behind is quiet in the daytime, but at night, no.

No. I will get better. I will get better. I will. I will. I will. I'm feeling so much better now. So much better. I don't sleep much at night, perhaps, for it's so interesting to watch. To watch developments. But I sleep a good deal in the daytime. In the daytime, it's tiresome and perplexing. There are always new shoots on the fungus and new shades of yellow all over it.

I can't keep count of them, I can't. Though I have tried. It's the strangest yellow, that wallpaper. It makes me think of all the yellow things I ever saw. Not lovely ones like buttercups, but old yellow things. Foul yellow things. And there's something else about that paper. The smell. I noticed it the moment we came into the room. But with so much air and sun, it was never so bad. Now we've had a week of fog and rain, and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here.

It creeps all over the house. It lies in wait. I can turn my head suddenly and surprise it. It's not so bad at first, and very gentle, but so subtle and enduring. I wake up in the night and find it hanging over me. It used to disturb me at first. I thought perhaps of burning the house to reach the smell, but I'm used to it now, and the only thing I can think of that it's like is the color.

The colour of the wallpaper. A yellow smell. There is a mark on the wall. A new one. Very strange, low down near the skirting board. A long, long streak that runs right round the room. It goes behind every piece of furniture except the bed. A long straight, even smudge. As if it had been rubbed over and over. I wonder how it was done and who did it. And why they did it. Round and round and round.

Round and round and round. It makes me giddy! But I really have discovered something at last. I really have. Through watching. So much watching at night when it changes so. The front pattern does move. The woman behind makes it move. Sometimes I think there are a great many women behind. And sometimes only one. And she creeps round. She creeps round so fast. And the creeping moves it. All over.

Then in the bright places, she keeps still. So very still. And then she looks at me. For a long, long while, she just looks at me. And perhaps she'll take the bars for a moment. The shady places. And shake them. And she tries to climb out. But no one can climb out through that pattern. It strangles. That is why there's so many. And the eyes turn white when it strangles. But I think that woman gets out in the daytime. For I've seen her.

I can see her out of every one of my windows. It's the same woman I know, for she's always creeping. I see her creeping up and down in that long shaded lane, and the long road there, under the trees, creeping along. And when someone passes, she hides and crouches in the hedges. She won't want to be seen. No, it would be dreadful to be seen. It would be so humiliating to be caught in daylight. I always lock the door in daylight.

I can't do it at night, for I know John would suspect something at once. And he's so strange now that I don't want to anger him. I don't want to distress him. I wish he would take another room. I don't want anyone to get the woman out at night but myself. I wonder often if I could see her out of all the windows at once. She may be able to creep faster than I can turn. I've watched her sometimes away in the open country, creeping as fast as a cloud shadow in a high wind. If only the top...

could be got from the under one. I mean to try it, little by little. Yet there's so little time. Only two more days. I found another strange thing. But I shan't tell them. Not this time. No, it doesn't do to trust people too much. Only two more days to get this paper off. And I believe John is beginning to notice. I don't like the look in his eyes. And I heard him ask Jenny a lot of professional questions about me. She had a very good report to give. She said I slept a good deal in the daytime.

John knows I don't sleep very well at night, for all I'm so quiet. He asked me so many questions and pretended to be very loving and kind, as if I couldn't see through him. Yet I think he's decided to go. Yes, at last. I shall have company in the new home. And I don't want company. Only two more days. He said he would go in two more days. He's come in. Oh, John has just come in. A moment ago, just a moment ago. And he... No. No.

I want to go back a little in my thoughts. I want to take it all so calmly and simply. The realization that John has decided that we will leave here and go back to town. I want to relish it. To relish it. Before he came in then, just before he came in, before he saw me, I was thinking so happily, this is the last day, the last day of all. Oh, I was so happy. And even last night I was happy. Then Jenny wanted to sleep with me. John being in town. They're all so sly.

But I told her I should rest better for a night all alone. And that was clever, for I wasn't alone. As soon as it was moonlight, the woman began to creep and move the pattern. I got up and ran to help her. I pulled and she shook, and I shook and she pulled. And before morning we had peeled off strips and strips of it. A strip about as high as my head and half round the room. And then, when the sun came and the pattern began to laugh at me, I declared I would finish it today. We go away today.

and they have moved all my own things down so as to leave things as they were before. Jenny looked at the wall in amazement when she came in this morning, but I told her merrily that I only did it out of spite, pure spite at the vicious thing. And she laughed, but so strangely, and said that she wouldn't mind doing it herself, but I'm not to get tired, and how she betrayed herself that time. But I am here, and no person touches that paper but me, not alive.

Jenny tried to get me out of the room to wait downstairs till John came. Oh, it was too patent. But I said it was so quiet and empty and clean now with all the things away, and I believed I would lie down and sleep again all I could to get ready for the journey when John came, and not to wake me even for dinner. And I would call when I woke. So Jenny's gone now, and the servants are gone, and only that nurse is downstairs waiting for John and I to come down. But John and I won't come down.

Not for a long time. Nothing here now. Nothing at all. Except the great bedstead nailed down with the canvas mattress we found on it. I enjoy the room. Now it's bare again. But how these children did tear about here. Their great gouges and scratches on the floor. And the bedstead is all splintered and almost gnawed, it seems. But I must get to work again. I locked the door. I had to lock the door, so that he wouldn't interrupt.

And I threw the key out of the window, through the bars, down beside the front path. I brought a rope up here. I've got it now. And even Jenny didn't find it, though she looked all round. And if the woman does get out and tries to get away, I can tie her. But I forgot. I forgot. I can't reach. I can't reach higher without anything to stand on. And there's only the bed. And the bed doesn't move. I tried and tried and I still try.

I tried to lift and push until I'm lame, and I peeled off all the paper I could reach from the floor. There was always that. But it stuck. It still sticks. And the pattern always laughed. Oh, I'm getting angry enough to do anything. To jump out of the window would be good, but the bars are too strong even to try again. And it wouldn't do. There's still so much to be done. So much. I don't like to look out of the windows even.

There are so many creeping women, and they creep so fast. Much faster than I can. I wonder if they all came off the paper, as I did. But I am firmly fastened now with my rope. They won't get me out in the road there. No. I suppose I shall have to get back behind the baton when it comes night. And that is hard. So hard. Oh, it is so pleasant to be out in this great room and creep as I please. I don't want to go outside. I won't.

not even if they ask me for you have to creep on the ground outside and everything is green instead of yellow but here i can creep smoothly on the floor and my shoulder just fits the long mark round the wall so i can't lose my way and i crept and then john came just a moment ago john came and he knocked and knocked and cried out and he seemed so angry and so anxious and so distressed and he called for a hammer

But the nurse downstairs must have gone out for a minute, and he went on calling. So I had to call out to him after a time, but in the gentlest voice. I had to call that the key was down by the front steps where I'd thrown it, and he went down. I heard him going down, and then he ran up with the key, and he came in. He's in here now, in the room with me. But when he did come in, when he first came in,

And when he stood there so empty and wild-looking in the door. Oh, poor John, poor John. I went on creeping, but I smiled at him over my shoulder. But why should he have given such a little moan, such a strange little moan? And why should he have crumpled so and fallen down? But he did, he did, right across my path, right across it by the wall.

So I have to creep over him every time. Every time I go round and round now, I have to creep over him, over him, over him, over him when I go round, round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round

Yes, fear is just a thought away, a haunting step away. I visited the woman the other day in her new home. Her room is small, but she likes it. The walls are a pleasant cream colour. She seems content. As I left, however, I stumbled against one of the walls. It was soft and yielding to the touch. Do you feel the same about the walls which surround you? No.

And when did you last touch them? In the yellow wallpaper, the woman was played by Anna Massey. It was written by Charlotte Parkins Gilman, dramatized by John Keir Cross, and directed by Jerry Jones. I am Edward de Souza, the man in black.

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At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car of business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our Carful Vehicle Review, where our experts will check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car of business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

Five after the hour by Les Weinrath. ♪♪♪

It is five after the hour. Play the theme song, Mr. Conductor. Play it sweet, play it smooth. Make music a man can whistle. ♪

Thank you. A theme song is composed for you, listener. Fashioned so that you can settle yourself comfortably near your radio, designed for your ease in listening. Require time for comfort and ease. 50 seconds. ♪♪

Now, prepare to be disturbed by the man without a face. Now they're gone. I must think this out very carefully. I must decide what to say before they return to kill me. Oh, it is so difficult to think now.

Think, man, think. Your future, your life depends upon it. Your future, your life. Do you not remember the day you died? Ten, or was it eleven years ago? I was at home, getting ready to attend a meeting of the bakers. Now, Liebchen, my cat. Here it is, dear.

My, you do look handsome. Do you like it wrong straight or cocked over his eyes, sir?

Very jauntily. That way. And you shan't be late, shall you? Oh, no. When the Munich Baker's girl meets for an evening of beer drinking, singing, marching, who can say any hour is late? Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.

Such sin, such murder. It was good. And the beer? Wunderbar. What more pleasant a life could a man desire? Good friends, good companionship, laughter, music, and marching to Sturmey. Right. Absolutely right. How easily you are both contended. Why should we not be content? Why indeed? Sturmey lies bleeding...

The space by the terms of Versailles is sold out by the capitalists and the communists and the Jews. And you are content to wear those foolish uniforms and sing sentimental songs. You, you have no purpose in life. What greater purpose can one have than to raise a fine family, have a successful bakery, and belong to a club? Yes, whatever are you talking?

Blind, blind thought of you. History is being written around you and you have not the eyes to see. Germany's destiny is being planned and you have not the sense to understand. He has come to lead Germany, to redeem Germany. He will be our savior. I should have sensed it then.

I should have recognized it as a disease. A disease that would spread over all Germany. A disease from which the German soul would shrivel and wither and eventually die. Now I remember my friend's face as he spat out those words. There was hate there in his eyes. Hate and fanaticism and cruelty and lust.

There was greed for power. There was everything a human should be frightened of. But I did not see it. Perhaps it was dark that night. Perhaps the beer blurred my vision.

Perhaps it was because this fastica was then only a hook at crossing a red field, and a fear was then only a politician who spoke very loudly and made us feel that we should conquer the world through bluff and bluster. So I returned to my home and hung up my uniform of the baker's guild

and went about baking the lightest Pfannkuchen in all Munich. Stubbkopf, schwein! How many times have I told you you do not pull the trays out yet? I'm sorry, master. I did not mean to be so careless. He did not mean to be so careless. For an excuse like that, an apprentice receives a reward like this. Ouch!

Now, perhaps you will remember the exact moment one pulls the trays out from the oven. Now, perhaps... And who dares to open the door without my permission? Who dares? Come with us. Immediately. What talk is this? What do you mean by... Pick him up. Take the boy, too. He has seen. Come on.

This is the Baker here, Doctor. Heil Hitler. Ja, Sieg Heil. The physical characteristics are as described. No, sir. However, we will try. His ancestors have, of course, been thoroughly checked. Five generations here in Munich. Aryan to the last drop of blood. Ja, good. Now, tell me, Baker...

Are you prepared to shed a few drops of your pure Aryan blood in the course of the Third Reich? I may. It is permitted that I speak. To answer questions, yes. But have I been brought here? My family... Your family is safe.

For the moment. They are in protective custody. But why? Take him away. They are ready for him in the operating room. The operating room.

The many surgeons, oh, they examined me. The measurements of my face, then the anesthetic, the operation. Weeks, many weeks in the room, never being spoken to. Strapped to the bed, my face a hideous torment, burning, itching, hurting, then...

That day. And now, we shall see the results of your surgery. I pray I have been successful. If you have, your work is over. Mine begins. We have come to remove the bandages. It will not be painful. Thank you. So, we begin. When we are finished...

We shall have a surprise for you. Eh, Herr Doktor? Of course. My apologies. There. Now, to remove this last bandage. So. Yeah. Incredible. This work I shall enjoy. Well, Eko, are you not curious? I do not know what to say. Good.

Continue so and you will prosper. With such a face, how can you help but prosper? Such a face? Yeah. Here, take a smell. Now, look at yourself. Oh, good eye. I must be bad. He has fainted from the shock. Yeah, understandable. Would not you faint if you awakened and found you had the face of Adolf Hitler? The End

The face of Adolf Hitler. My face. What a fantastic thing. My reason tarted. I was certain I'd gone mad. Then the little Herr Doktor, he of the club foot, came again to my room.

With him was the plain man I was to learn to fear. The one with the thin mouth and the nose glasses.

You are to be given the most glorious opportunity. The opportunity of laying down your life for your Fuhrer. My men of the Gestapo and Schutztapfel will of course give you every protection. Needless to say, you'll be watched at all times. You will do nothing unless ordered. Is that clear? I understand. To your person, the Fuhrer will be spared many taxing moments. His person will be reserved for only the most important activities. And now, your course of instruction will begin.

Head erect. Shoulders back. Left hand looped on the belt. Yeah, yeah. Better. Now, now the eyes flash. The head is thrown back. The right arm upraised in salute. Stiffly. Heil Hitler.

Heil Hitler. No, no, no, no. Not like everything. Like a liar. Again. But, Herr Doktor, I cannot much till I try. Yeah, enough. Take him back into the room with the recording equipment for the rest of the day. Wir sind belogen und betrogen worden. We have been lied to and betrayed by the realists, the communists and the Jews.

England has grown fat off the meat of our bones. Russia lies waiting to pick those bones. And the Jews, like the jackals they are, stand ready to eat their bait. Germans arise in Broggen and Betrothed water.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

That was why I was spared. There were others with faces like mine who could do the speaking on occasion. I learned of them quite by accident. And I kept the knowledge to myself. At first I was afraid. And then I was no longer fearful. People looked at me and cheered.

People looked at me and trembled. There were even those who knew I was not what I seemed to be, but they were respectful. After all, one does not know what will happen. Yes, I liked it. I felt the power, the glory of leadership.

Glorious needle, the youth of Germany welcomes you. In your thoughts we find our inspiration. In your deeds we find our ambition. In your hopes we find... We are you and you are Germany. Yes, one must clear the fear of principle to appreciate it. I thought of nothing else. Now I wore my uniform more and more, even as he did.

I resented having only the one uniform. I wished he would wear many, like the fat one did. I learned much of what transpired in the party, too. The hatred, the jealousies. But one thing above all others I learned, that to conquer the world, one must follow blindly. You will leave at once for Munich. At once. He is there. He is not well. The cares will stay to a heavily on him.

Various diplomats are expected. You will be seen in his study while he is resting. You will also abstain from any other activities. As you command, sir. In the event you do not completely understand me, may I point out that the various ways in which you entertain yourself are known to us? Yeah, my dear. That is all. Save one thing. Your situation is one from which there is no resigning. Also, if you are found wanting, there will be no other situation.

Munich, the Brenner Pass, Berchtesgaden, always with honor, with respect. Tachau, Belsen, Nordhausen, Gardelegen, the concentration camps.

How the gods outdid themselves to entertain me. And how the inferior race, when the political prisoners trembled as word passed through that I was there. The power and the glory of my... Then, the blood purge of June 1934. I was fearful at first, but it was soon over.

And I was safe again. I was more powerful than ever. Then, then, Transnistria in 1938. Anschluss. The Pools. We would show them. In 1939, Czechoslovakia. A few days later, Lithuania. Then, Poland. Poland.

And the war went on. And it was good. Always good. Man is intended to battle. And the German is destined to rule. Germany must have Lebensraum. And the Lebensraum she must have is the whole world. France has capitulated. And Marshal Verdun has agreed to terms of surrender. The Fuhrer is now on his way to Paris.

He danced a jig when France fell. He danced a jig after I had gone forward to try out his surroundings. But I had no fear. There was no one who could stand up to us. No one could question how am I.

...and less and less time with the staff of the High Command...

The Russian campaign. He promised it would be a great adventure. It was no adventure. Japan struck at America. The Americanish of fools declared war. And then the fat-bellied one proved a liar. He had promised us his look-pocket would drive from the skies anyone who dared rise up against it. He lied. I was near humble.

Come, sir. We must evacuate at once. The celebration that was planned, it is cancelled. The Wehrmacht has made a strategic retreat on the Russian front. Our forces have fallen back in good order. And the high command has prepared a trap that will ensnare the recklessly advancing Soviets. For the national security, great restrictions will be made on the home front.

All citizens of the Reich will register with the proper authorities at once. Today, I knew it was the end. The Russians were at the very gates of Berlin. The Americans and the British were in the skies over Berlin. And I was in Berlin.

The secret sub-basement of the Reich's Chancellery is him, the little club-footed man. The Herr Doctor had just announced over the radio that he would fight with the citizens of Berlin to the end. Now I hated him. He had betrayed us. He had promised us the world and had led us into this hell.

Then I heard them talking. I heard them... You have to order us. I understand. He will leave by plane. The other one will die here. But I did not want to die. I wanted to live. I had done nothing wrong. He had betrayed us all.

He had promised us victory. You cannot kill me, my wife, my children. I will go back to Munich, my bakery. You cannot do... I must think, plan. They will come back, the Russians. They will think I am him. They will come.

This one. We dug him out of the sub-basement of the Reichs-Chancellor, Tavares doctor. A good Nazi party member, no doubt. What is left of him, his face you see gone completely. No identification. Fingerprints were checked. He is no one. False. Very weak. Will he live? Who knows? Tell me, doctor, if such a one survives, is there a possibility for plastic surgery? Possibly. Let me see.

My guess, brown hair, weak mouth, pronounced nose. Typical Aryan, eh? Is it your guess they will make him a new face, Doctor? I rather think no. In the young, them the world can repair. Their faces, their minds, their hearts, their souls. For them, there is hope in the brotherhood of man. For this one and the others like him...

These we shall leave without faces, even as Germany is today. These have lost the right to new faces. These have lost the right to the brotherhood of man. This one and the others like him must go on until he dies, a man without the face. The End

You have been listening to The Man Without a Face, written, directed, and produced by Les Weinroth. Five after the hour, originated in the studios of WBBM, the Wrigley Building, Chicago. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our Carful Vehicle Review, where our experts will check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car of business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our carful vehicle review, where our experts check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

At Jiffy Lube, we car about cars. In fact, we're kind of obsessed. That's why we've been taking car business with quick quality oil changes and service for over 40 years. And with things like our Carful Vehicle Review, where our experts will check, fill, clean, and inspect your vehicle, you'll know we'll car for your car like we car for our own. Jiffy Lube. Car more. Visit JiffyLubeDC.com to find a Jiffy Lube service center near you.

Stay tuned now for adventure and excitement in the world of the future. It's entertainment for the entire family produced right here in Kalamazoo. Join us now for a voyage into another dimension. A journey into a realm as infinite and limitless as time itself. Our destination...

The farthest reaches of the imagination. WMUK Special Projects presents Future Tales. Sorcerer of Loneliness by Theodore Sturgeon. ♪♪

I'm not painting this picture of myself to get sympathy. I don't need it.

But it's important that you should know the kind of person I am. Otherwise, you won't understand what I'm going to tell you. It happened tonight, the thing I'm going to tell you about. Tonight, the 25th of June, 1982. I was down on the beach. Hey, mister! Hey, mister! What is it, kid? You seen a cop around any place? On this beach?

I found this pile of clothes down near the rock. A lady's dress and shoes. Oh, did you see anybody? A girl? Well, I think so, but she was running along the sand in the moonlight. I yelled to her, but she just kept running. And then I found these. Oh, look, kid, you go try to find a cop someplace, and I'll see if I can find the girl. Okay. I thought to myself, she's dead.

I'll never find her now, in this white flood of moonlight with the surf seething in over the pale sand. I ran and ran until my knees buckled and went down the swirl of it, the sea on my lips with the taste of tears, and the whole white night shouted and wept. And then I saw her, waist deep, walking into the surf.

Stop! Stop it! Come back! Come on, come out! Let go! Let me go! Don't do it! Please, please don't! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! I'm going to have to hit you! Forgive me! Oh, no! I hit her in the neck with the edge of my hand, and she slumped over. I brought her ashore and carried her to where the dune was between us and the water.

Then I rubbed her wrists. She had a pale, beautiful face with ancient, bottomless blue eyes. She opened them and looked at me after a moment. It's all right. Here, put my coat on. Why couldn't you leave me alone? I couldn't. Why? Because it's important to me. Suppose you want to know why I did it? If I told you I understand, would you believe me?

How could you understand? Maybe I know what it means to be lonely. That's it, isn't it? I don't know. I'm so terribly tired. Put your head against my arm and just stay. Don't be afraid. I've been looking for you for a long time. Looking? For me? All my life. How did you know? I don't believe you. Well, it's true. I found your message.

So you see, there's nothing to be afraid of. Not anymore. Just rest. The moonlight is terribly white. Yes, I'd like to rest for a while. She didn't remember it, of course, but I was one of the reporters who had covered the story when it first happened five years ago.

I'll never forget that day. I was working the police blotter. It was a quiet summer afternoon when they brought her in. Two big cops in blue uniforms.

Come on now, girlie. Come on. Let me go. I haven't done anything. Take it easy now. What's the trouble, Connelly? Disturbing the peace, Sergeant. Is this that Central Park call? Aye, this is it. I thought you radioed that there was a near riot up there. Aye, you should have seen the place. All right, give me the report. Well, me and Bennett got up there and there was a mob of people all surrounding this girl. See?

So we bust through and there in the middle of maybe 600 people, she's lying there sort of in a faint. I asked a couple of people what the difficulty was. They told me it's the flying saucer. The what? The flying saucer. What flying saucer? Let me finish, sergeant.

What flying saucer, I ask? And then they says that this girl was standing on the green and suddenly this saucer comes down and starts whirling over her head like a halo. What is this, miss? A gag? It happened. It did, huh? Well, now suppose you tell me your version. I was standing in the park and I looked up and there it was. Describe it. It was beautiful. It was golden with a dusty finish like an unripe conquered grape.

It made a faint sound, a chord of two tones, and it circled over my head like some great round hummingbird. Go on. Other people must have seen it because they were all looking at me and pointing. I saw one man cross himself, and then it came down and touched me and spoke to me. This flying saucer spoke to you? And just what did it say to you? I said, what did it say? I can't tell you.

Secret man? Yes. I see. Connolly, this girl is for Bellevue. Well, Sergeant...

The plain fact is that it happened just like that. And ten witnesses all agreed it did. Are you trying to tell me that there was such a thing as this whirring hummingbird of a saucer? Aye, there was that, Sergeant. And just how do you know, Connolly? Well, we've got the thing out in the squad car. You what? Bennett's bringing it in now. See? About 36 inches across it is and covered with strange markings. Great mother...

What did you call the bomb squad? I didn't think of it. Well, think of it, man. This may be some kind of atomic weapon. I'll turn it over to ballistics. Never mind about ballistics. Call the FBI. Tell them we've got this thing. Yeah, that's right. What about the girl? We'll book her on disturbing the peace. I got a feeling the government men may want to work with her.

What is it, Benides? I'd like to do a story on this for my paper. Could I have a look at the saucer? We'd better clear it first. Oh, could I talk to the girl? After she's been booked. Connelly, is the crowd still up at the park? Very likely. I'll run up there and get some eyewitnesses. Then I'd like to come back and talk to the girl. Up at the park, they were still buzzing about it.

Some said she was a communist agitator. Some said it was a flying saucer from Mars and she'd stepped out of it. Others said she was a saint and it was her halo. I took some notes for the paper and went back downtown to talk to her. But there were a couple of agents with her and they wouldn't let me in. And now then, miss, you told the sergeant this saucer spoke to you. Is that correct? Yes. Did it speak to you in English?

I don't know. You did understand it, though? Yes. Do you speak any other languages? No. Tell me, what message did you receive from this instrument? It wasn't anything, really. Suppose you tell me. I'd rather not. Miss, let me be very frank. I'm not a policeman. I'm a security agent. That means I deal with problems that affect the security of our country. You understand? Yes.

Now, we've examined this flying saucer enough to know that it is not of American manufacture. It also possesses an extremely high radioactive count. Now, that means it was made in an area where radioactive materials are in great abundance, such as an area where atom bombs are made. And that's why we want to know the message you received from the saucer. There was no message. You just made it up. Yes. I'm afraid you're lying.

Suppose we have some soldiers bring the saucer in here and hold it over your head. Would you object? I don't care what you do. All right, boys. Bring it in. All right. Come on. Come on. Now, when I tell the men to hold it over your head, do you try to recall what it says? I don't know what it says. Lift it up, boys. Hold it right over your head. I got this. Here.

It's talking to you now, isn't it? Yes. What is it saying? What did it say? All right, boys, create it up and send it down to the National Research Laboratories. Right. What about the girl, sir? We'll get nothing out of her. I don't believe she really knows what that humming noise is. Better have a psychiatrist examine her. They took her to the city hospital and she had a room to herself.

Whenever the door opened, she could see the policemen outside. The door opened quite often. There were a lot of important people, some in army uniforms, who came up from Washington just to see her and talk to her. Apparently, they had analyzed the flying saucer and discovered something that made this girl about the most important person in the country. I used to stand outside. I could identify the heads of certain security agencies, but...

Nobody would answer the questions that the reporter shot at. Sir, excuse me. Yes? I'm Jason Benaitis from the Trib. I've been assigned to this flying saucer story. As chief of the security sector... I'm sorry, I have no comment. Well, can you tell me how long the girl will be held? That's a matter for the civil authorities. We'll have the psychiatrist determine exactly... Excuse me, Mr. Benaitis. My car is waiting. A few days later, she was released from the hospital and returned to the court to be tried on a disorderly conduct charge.

They found her guilty and fined her $15 and turned her loose. When she walked out of the courtroom, she was handed a subpoena to appear before a congressional committee in private session. She answered all their questions except one. My paper sent me over to cover the hearing. Now, young lady, I want to remind you that I'm a senator of the United States and empowered by the people of this country to ask questions relating to matters of security.

You understand? Yes. Your name is Janet Boyce, is it not? I told you that. Now, at an earlier session, you testified that as the young girl, you were a member of a certain organization in your neighborhood. Would you name it? We didn't have a name. It was just a bunch of girls who got together to go bike riding and listen to recordings. Any particular recordings? Mostly Donny Osmond. I see.

Now, this flying saucer, you said it talked to you. You did say that, didn't you? Yes. And then you denied it. Yes. Why? Because I was tired of answering questions. Young woman, let me put something to you squarely. By the way, I think if there are members of the press here, I can divulge a rather spectacular piece of information to you. This flying saucer has been thoroughly examined and analyzed.

And I wish to inform the people of this great nation that it definitely, I repeat, it definitely did not originate on this planet. And now then, now then, Miss Boyce, consider that it is possible that our Earth might be attacked from outer space by beings much more clever and stronger than we are.

And consider that perhaps you have the key to our defense against these beings. Don't you owe it to the world? I don't think I owe anything to anybody. Even if the earth was not attacked, just think what an advantage it would give this country over its enemies. Young woman, I ask you, what did that flying saucer say to you? You know that what you're doing is tantamount to working for the enemies of your country?

I will give you one more chance. What was the message? It was personal. Gentlemen, I move that Miss Janet Boyce be cited for contempt. Oh, my God.

The furor was fantastic. The chief of security blasted the senator for divulging secret information about the origins of the flying saucer, and the senator said the people had a right to know, and besides, he was just guessing anyway and happened to guess right. And meanwhile, the press printed the girl's picture all over the front page and ran banner headlines like, Girl Refuses to Betray Martian Secrets, Flying Saucer Girl Won't Talk, Cited for Contempt,

The contempt trial was equally spectacular. She didn't plead any amendment. She just said the saucer was talking to her and it was nobody else's business. She was convicted and sentenced to five years in prison. Good night, Ace. Yes, Chief. For the Sunday supplement? Yeah, good. Well, do you think there's anything in it? Okay, whatever you say.

Mike? Get me everything you can on that flying saucer girl, will you? Yeah. Yeah, the one that was sent to jail about four years ago. Now, see if you can find out what she's doing now. She was released about six months ago, I think. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Yeah. The boss wants a feature for the Sunday supplement, though. Okay. ♪♪

I found out she'd gotten a job cleaning at night in offices and stores down near the beachfront. There weren't many to clean, but that meant there weren't many people to remember her face from the newspapers. I tracked her down and caught up with her in a one-armed coffee joint about four in the morning. Excuse me, miss. Do you mind if I sit here? No. Nice night, isn't it?

Moonlight and everything. Which are you? Security? Newspapers? Or just somebody out for a good time? You're pretty bitter, aren't you? Shouldn't I be? Yeah, I guess you should. My name is Jason Benaitis. I'm with the newspaper. It's been nice meeting you. I have to go now. Oh, just a minute. Please. I can't blame you, but... How did you find me? One of the legmen I've located your mother. I talked to her earlier tonight. Oh, how is she?

Still hitting the bottle. The way she knew where you were, you sent her some flowers on her birthday, remember? Yes. She wouldn't talk to me. Said she didn't want a daughter who was a jailbird. Tell me how it's been. Well, you can write about it. I promise you I won't write anything you don't want me to write. Okay. You want to know how it's been? Right after I got out of jail, I met a man at a restaurant. Nice man. Asked me for a date. I spent every cent I had on a red handbag to go with my red shoes.

They weren't the same shade, but anyway, they were both red. I was very excited about the date. We went to a movie. Afterward, he didn't even try to kiss me or anything. He just wanted to know what the flying saucer had told me. I didn't say anything. I just went home and cried all night. And that was it? No. I had another date. I get pretty lonely. This time they arrested the man I was with. He was a Russian agent.

On Christmas Eve, four men called me up and sang me a song. Would you like to hear the words? It doesn't matter. They go, the flying saucer came down one day and taught her a brand new way to play. And what it was, she will not say, but she takes me out of this world. I'm sorry. Now you go away and leave me alone. Yes. Aren't you going to ask me the big question? No. Everybody does. Yeah, well, not me. You will, sooner or later. Maybe. Maybe.

Look, can I take you home? No. Can I see you again? Please. No, I don't know. I'm afraid to let myself like anyone. Trust me, will you? I'm not sure. Maybe? Maybe. I'll wait here for you tomorrow night. All right. The next night, I went back to the coffee joint to wait for her.

I knew she got through about four in the morning. I got there about 15 minutes early. Mr. Benavides? Yes. Oh, say, you're the chief of the security section, aren't you? You used to work at... You have a good memory. Mind if I sit down? Well, I'm expecting someone. Yes, I know. Oh, I see. I'd like to talk with you. Go ahead. You, um...

You probably know that we've been trying to gain the confidence of this girl for some years now. Yes. And, uh, apparently you've succeeded where we've failed. Well, not really. In any event, you seem to be making some progress. She may not even show up. I think she will. Now, I'm going to ask you to help us. Help? In what way can I help? We have reason to believe...

that this girl is a courier for some alien power. And what do you base that? Well, there was the incident of the saucer, of course. We've definitely established that it came from some other planet. And recently, she's been throwing messages inside bottles into the ocean. What sort of messages? They're always the same. I know I have one right here. You're welcome to read it and see if it makes any sense.

We've had every decoding expert in the service trying to break it, but we can't seem to find the key. I see. She's thrown literally hundreds of these messages and bottles into the sea. We've got many of them, but not all, naturally. Now, what we're most interested in is locating the contact. And that's where you fit in. We'd like you to gain this girl's confidence even further. Try to find out just what these messages mean, and beyond that, what the saucer said to her.

will be doing us a favor in your country, a great service. You're certain this is some subversive activity on her part? Now, Ospina, explain the fact that she won't tell us her secret. Maybe because it's hers, and everybody has a right to have something of his own. Are you trying to tell me that you won't cooperate? I didn't say that. I'd like to remind you, Mr. Benaitis, that you have a duty to us. I know that. I also have a duty to myself and to God.

Now, if you'll excuse me. I folded the bottle message and put it in my pocket. I waited for her to show up. The minutes went by, and the hours, and I knew she wasn't coming, or she had come and seen me with the chief and changed her mind. And that's when I left the cafe and walked down to the beach.

That's when I dragged her out of the surf before she could follow one of her bottles under the water. How do you feel now? Are you cold? Why should you care? I do. Is that why you were sitting with the security chief in the cafe? I didn't arrange that meeting. He asked me to spy on you. I suppose he told you about the bottles. Yes. Wonder how much of the taxpayers' money they spent gathering them up. You'd think they'd get tired of it. All the writing in the bottles is the same.

Maybe you could have saved a lot of trouble. Do you think so? All of them. Judges, jailers, jukeboxes, people. Do you really think it would have saved me a minute's trouble if I told them the whole truth at the very beginning? Wouldn't it? No. They wouldn't have believed me. What they wanted was a new weapon. Some super scientific, super science from some alien super race science. That's all they think about us.

Well, it is pretty important. Would it ever have occurred to them that this super race from another planet might have super feelings or super longings or a super loneliness? No. All they think about is weapons. Isn't it time you asked me what the saucer said? No. They all ask me. I don't have to ask you. I know. You know? Let me read it to you.

There is, in certain living souls, a quality of loneliness unspeakable. So great it must be shared as company is shared by lesser beings. Such a loneliness is mine. So know by this, that in immensity, there is one lonelier than you. How did you know? It's the message you put in the bottle.

The same message that some lonely, strange being in some other world put into a bottle. Only his bottle was a flying saucer and sent across space to you. I'm lonely, too. Look at me. I've never had the love of a woman. I think I'm pretty ugly. You're not ugly. No, I don't feel ugly right now. Say it again. The message from the saucer? No, by this.

that in immensity there is one lonelier than you. I wonder if whoever first wrote it has found someone. I think perhaps he has. She looked at me and said nothing. But it was as if a light came from her. More light than even the practiced moon could cast. Among the many things it meant...

was the fact that even to loneliness, there is an end for those who are lonely enough, long enough. WMUK Special Projects has presented Saucer of Loneliness, written by Theodore Sturgeon and adapted for radio by George Leppard. Mark Spink was featured as Beniety, and Peg Small played Janet Boyce.

Our cast included Tom Small as the security chief, Richard Niesink as the senator, Martin Gingrich as the cop, John Scott as the sergeant, Rock Bartley as the boy, and Ico Generator as the saucer. Future Tense is produced and directed by Ellie Siegel. This is Gerard McLeod inviting you and your entire family to join us every Monday through Thursday at the same time for Future Tense.

Be sure to listen. Cooperation with police and federal law enforcement departments throughout the United States. The only national program that brings you authentic police case histories. Gangbusters! Emergency flash. The most serious proportions is spreading throughout the United States. Saturday, December 8th, 1910.

A serious crime is being committed every 42nd. Chicago, December 8th. Man killed, another wounded in... Chelsea, Massachusetts, December 8th. Police searching desperately for person who telephoned father of six months old baby that kidnapped child would be returned, quote, in a box, unquote. Redwood City, California, December 8th. 16-year-old high school girl kidnapped in green sedan. These are authentic... New crime wave has started. A murder has been...

United States every three hours.

in its relentless war upon this crime wave, that this country may be a safe country in which to live. Gangbusters presents Louis J. Valentine, former commissioner of the largest police force in the world, who will interview by proxy W.M. Adams, Sheriff, Potter County, Texas. Commissioner Valentine. Now, Sheriff Adams, suppose you start our gangbusters case for tonight. Well, Commissioner Valentine, I'd like to go back a few years to Dallas, Texas.

Sheriff Hart was telephoning to the Texas State Police. This escaped convict, I consider him one of the most dangerous criminals at large. Now here's the description. Blackie Thompson, 26, 5 feet 8 inches, weight 150, cold black hair, dark brown, suave, handsome, dresses like a fashion face. Blackie Thompson will kill on the slightest provocation. Uh, don't play anymore, Lela.

All right, Denny. That's our song. I can't stand it tonight, Leela. Do you realize ever since we were ten years old, we planned to get married? I'm sorry, Denny. Leela, you're just infatuated. You don't know anything about him. He only came to town a month ago. But I can't help my feelings, Denny. Sure, he's handsome, he's been places, he's flashy. He's exciting, Denny. He's romance. He's everything I ever dreamed of. And I'm just the guy who's always lived across the street.

You'll get over it. Never. You don't even know, Leila, what he does for a living. Oh. I suppose that's him now. Is my hair all right? Do I look all right, Denny? You look awful good to me. I'll be back in a minute.

Blackie. Hi, Ken. Denny's in the living room. I've just told him. Oh, yeah? I hated terribly to hurt him. You told your old folks you're leaving town with me? No, but I've got my bags all packed. After they're asleep, I'll leave them a note and meet you. I want to get out of this break. I never was so excited in my life. Oh, Blackie.

You do love me, don't you? Oh, sure. Oh, Blackie, there won't be one bored minute being with you. You don't know the half of it, kid. Leaving this way, I'll probably never be able to come home again. You'll... You'll always love me, won't you? You're okay, beautiful. Wait till you get a look at the outside world with me. Emergency, all state police. First National Bank at Rush Springs, Oklahoma. Cold black hair.

Gun shop at Reartook, Oklahoma, held up by three gunmen. Leader, immaculately dressed, brown-eyed, machine guns, shotguns, and ammunition stolen. Leader answers description of dangerous escape convict, Blackie Thompson. Pretty swanky nightclub, huh, Lela? Yeah, you never saw nothing like this in the Hicktown you come from. Huh? What's the matter?

Oh, I was just listening to that song. It just happens to mean a lot to me. Oh, thinking of that Hick Romeo I took you away from. Well, snap out of it. All right. All right, I'm sorry, Blackie. You wanted excitement. You're getting it, aren't you? Sure. Remember the first night you threw a fit when you found out who I really was? It was all so new to me, Blackie. And now I'm going to give you some real excitement. What? I'm pulling another heist tomorrow.

A bank? Yeah, and the heat's on me. You're gonna drive our getaway car. I'm gonna... Drive our getaway car. All right. All right, if you say so, Blackie. Well, that's what I do say. You still love me, Blackie. Oh, lay off that goo. I'm getting fed up with it. Now, you park the car in front of the bank, and I'll take Whitney and go in.

Yes, sir? You the cashier? Yes, sir? There's a stick up. Reach for the ceiling. Don't shoot. Reach for the ceiling. He didn't reach quick enough. Grab the dough. Okay, pal. Shut up. You broke the cashier? Never mind him. Get the dough. I got it. Okay, then. Come on. And if anyone tries to stop us when we get outside, kill them. Are you all right, Blackie? I heard shots. Shut your mouth and step on the gas. Step on it, I said. Come on.

That's a fast now, Lila. All right, Blackie. Those cops have sent out alarms. They spot a car hitting 60, they'll figure it's us. Keep your guns ready in the back seat there, Whitney. Don't worry, I'm ready. Oh, Blackie, I didn't realize it would be like this. You start whining now, I'll put a plug in you just as quick as I would anybody else. All right, Blackie, I'm sticking with you. I always will.

Hey, Blackie, you think we'll kill that cashier back in the bank? Oh, what's the difference? We got the dough. Blackie, look. Coming down that other road. A car. Pulled posse in it. Yeah. What'll we do? We can't turn back. Yeah, but Blackie... Oh, shut up. We've only got one chance. Now, listen, Leela. You do what I tell you. All right, Blackie. Anything you say. Keep driving straight ahead as though nothing's wrong. Yes. If those cops yell to pull up, stop the car. But when you do, pull up just a few feet ahead of them. You understand? What for? Never mind.

Get the guns back there, ready? And I'll crawl in the back seat with you, Whitney. Cops see us, all right, they're waving. Whitney, hide down on the floor of the car. Now, you do what I told you, Lela, or you'll get a slug in the back of the head. Pull over, you people. Pull over. Okay, officer. Stop just ahead of them, Lela. That's right. And when I say so, we'll jam our guns out the back window and let them have it. Blackie, no. Keep your mouth shut. I can see through the back window. Cops are getting out now.

They're walking this way. Okay, you people, get out of the car. Let them have it. More, more. Kill them. Kill them all. We got most of them, Blackie. It's horrible. Shut up. Get this car going. Blackie, you killed them. You killed them. I'll kill you if you don't give this car all it's got. No cops taking Blackie Thompson. One member of that patrol posse was killed, Commissioner Valentine. Two of the others were badly wounded, and another received slight wounds.

But Blackie Thompson and his gang escaped. Now back to Gangbusters and Commissioner Valentine. What happened, Sheriff Adams, after Blackie Thompson's spectacular escape from that posse? Well, Commissioner Valentine, Blackie Thompson, reckless as he was, thought it best to hide out for a while. He and Leela had a hideout just outside of Bartlesville, Oklahoma. Why, Blackie... Come in, Leela. ...new suit, new shoes...

But what's the idea of the suitcase? Are we going somewhere? Hand me those gloves on the bureau. These? Uh-huh. Pigskin. Pretty hard and rough. Blackie, you were planning on working out on me. No, one little talk with you first. You've been getting on my nerves. I'm fed up. Blackie. I don't want no singing. When I'm fed up with a dame, I'm through and that ends it. But I can't go home. I...

I haven't got any place to go. I haven't got anybody but you. You can't leave me. The reason I wanted to talk to you is... You think you're going to get back on me and tipping off the cops? You got another thing coming. No, Blackie, you can't leave me. One word to the cops and I'll find you and fill you full of lead. After I've given up my home and family and everything for you. These pigskin gloves are just like steel. And you have a beautiful face. I should bump you off now to make sure you don't talk. But just as a little sample...

It'll be a long time before that pussy of yours looks human again. And if you're even tempted to say a word to the cops, just remember that little sample. Blackie! Mike, come in the office a minute. All right, Sheriff. Did you check with the police in nearby cities on Blackie Thompson? Yes, Sheriff. No soap. How about water circulators? Well, they're just coming in from the printer. I'm sending one to every police chief in the country. Good. Sheriff Hart's office. Is it? Who is this? What bat? And I know where he is. Who?

Blackie Thompson. He said he'd kill me if I ever told. Who are you? I was his girlfriend. Where is he? I hope you lock him up till he dies. Is his gang with him? But his new... Hello. A tip on Blackie Thompson? Yeah, Mike. A woman. Blackie's supposed to be over at Tim's bar. I'm driving over right now. But you can't go alone, Sheriff. His old gang may be with him. I'll take my chances, Mike. This time it's going to be Blackie Thompson or me.

Hello, Sheriff. Kind of raw tonight. Hello, Tim. What brings you to my place, Sheriff? Something up? Maybe. Well, no one's been here except that fella sitting back there in the corner. He's the man I'm watching in the bar mirror. Yeah? Who is he? Five feet, eight inches, 150 pounds, black hair, dark brown eyes. That's right, Blackie Thompson. I saw his picture in the papers and I... Shh! What are you going to do, Sheriff? I'm going to take him. Hey, that guy's a killer.

Move down the bar out of range. All right, stay where you are, both of you. And if we don't? I knew you was a cop the minute you came in. I was waiting for your first move to kill you. Blackie, it looks like you've got the drop on me. I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to kill that dame that tipped you off. You wouldn't just kill me here in cold blood. Oh, wouldn't I? You said your last speech, Sheriff. Sheriff, you threw him right over your shoulder. All right, Blackie, get up on your feet. Okay, okay, I'm getting up.

I'm getting up. There are a lot of jobs marked up against you, Blackie. And one of them is cop killing. Irvin Blackie Thompson, rise and face the court. It is the sentence of this court that you, Irvin Blackie Thompson, for the crimes of kidnapping, murder, and robbery, be taken to the Texas State Prison at Huntsville. And that within the walls of the said prison, on the 24th day of October next,

Between the hours of six and ten in the morning, a sufficient current of electricity be passed through your body to cause your death. And may God have mercy on your soul. Just a minute, Whitney. You know the rules. Convicts aren't allowed near the death house here. Well, I, uh, I thought maybe I, uh, I thought I could see my old pal Blackie Thompson. They're, uh, electrocuting him in a week, you know. Yeah, get permission from the warden. Oh. Well, then, uh...

Would you? Quiet, Goddard. I'll kill you. Where'd you get that gun? Open the door of the death house, quick. Surprising what a little gun smuggled in can do. Now walk inside, Scrooge. Nobody ever escaped from this death house yet, Whitney. Give me those keys. Blackie. Blackie, what cell are you in? Over here, Whitney. Hurry, hurry. Yeah. Come on, Goddard. Run with me. Get me out of this cell. Open the door. Come on. Okay. I know what it's like to be in a death house. Come on, open it up, Whitney. Hurry. I'm working as fast as I can, Blackie. I'll never forget this favor, Whitney.

Okay, Whitney. Now I'll take that gun. Give me your gun. I'll shove the guard in the cell. That screws out for good. Hey, open my cell, Blackie. Now let's get out of here. Aren't you going to spring those other guys in the death house? Nuts, let them burn. I'm saving myself. Come on. I've got the ladder hit on the other side of this door, Blackie. Good. No guy ever broke out of this death house before. Now get that ladder. Okay, I got it. Over to the wall now. Okay. Stand the ladder up against the wall. Okay.

It's okay. I'll start up. No, you don't. I'm first. Hey, that's no way to treat me after I got you out of the death house, Blackie. Blackie Thompson, Blackie comes first. Look out. The guard up on the wall sees us. Oh, Blackie. Come back. Help me, will you? Help yourself, punk. What do you think I am?

Emergency! Emergency! Blackie Thompson has just escaped from the death house while Whitney, who waited him to escape, was shot by the tower guard and killed. Emergency! Blackie Thompson has just escaped. I'm right here in the shadow. Oh, darling. I couldn't see you. You really like these country club dances? No, they're boring. I wish you'd come in.

I've been watching you through the window. I knew you were here. I was trying to sneak out. I never knew a girl could be so in love in just one week. Well, you're running away with me or not? But do you realize I hardly even know your name? You're in love with me, though. More than anything in the world. Well, then after you get home tonight, pack, sneak out, and I'll have a car on the street in back of your house. You honestly love me, don't you? Would I be asking to run away with me if I didn't?

All right, I will go with you. I'll go with you to the end of the world if you want to. We won't go that far at first. I'll take you for a few weeks to Amarillo, Texas. Amarillo? Don't worry, kid. You won't be bored. I promise you that. Attention, attention. First National... About 28...

Handsome, immaculately dressed, this gunman cruelly beat cashier, believed to be killer Blackie Thompson, approach with caution. Sheriff's office. Hello. Hello, what's the matter? This is the sheriff's office. What's the matter? Who is this? Thompson. Blackie Thompson. Every office in the South's looking for Blackie Thompson. He's here, in Amarillo. Where? Who are you? I'm his girl. He told me he was going to marry me and shoot him and... Hello. Hello. Attention, Texas police.

Blackie Thompson reported to be here in Amarillo. All patrol cars cover main highways. Killer Blackie Thompson reported here in Amarillo. You don't suppose, Sheriff, that girl who phoned in gave us a wrong steer on Blackie Thompson? If she did, Inspector, she was the cleverest actor I ever heard. I'll wager every police car in Texas is patrolling tonight. Look. Way down there on the low road. See? Yeah. It's a sedan. Must be doing 70. But look. Way behind it. Three squad cars. We're after him, Sheriff.

Must be Blackie Thompson in the first car. He's outrunning the squad cars. Oh, what a rotten break. This road runs parallel to that road for miles before there's a cut across. We'll never be able to get down to the highway in time to cut him off. We've got to. Those squad cars will never catch him. There's only one way to head the car off. Go down the embankment. But it's a 60-foot bank and a rough field beyond. We've got to take a chance. Hang on. We'll either make it or be killed. Watch it.

That rock! Steady! Steady! Sheriff, you made it. He's about 300 yards ahead of us. Step on it. I can't go any faster. He's pulling away. I'll see if I can plug his tires. Good, he's stopping. Look out! Sheriff, you hurt? There's some of the glass in the windshield. We'll get him. Here comes the other squad cars. Come on, men. There he is, right by his car. Out in the sides of the road. Hello, men. Open fire. Hold it. Careful.

Thompson may be playing possum. I don't think so. Keep your guns on him, though. If he starts to get up out of that road, let him have it. You got my covers. There must be at least 30 bullets in him. Well, men, that's the end of Blackie Thompson. It's a shame that some of these men don't realize before it's too late.

that they just can't get away with it. Well, Commissioner Valentine, that's the case of Blackie Thompson. And I hope if there's anyone listening tonight who contemplates committing a crime, they'll just remember this case. We appreciate it, Sheriff Adams. You're telling us these inside facts tonight. The Boathook by Sheila Hodgson with Michael Williams as M.R. James, Brett Usher as Masterman, and David King as Professor Anders. The Boathook.

I have an affection for the Scandinavian countries. There is a particularly fine cathedral in Trondheim which I discovered in the spring of 1904. The Norwegian guide informed me that the original Archbishop of Trondheim had been English and responsible for the spiritual welfare of the Shetland Islands. I see no reason to doubt it. Oh, I beg your pardon. We were talking about Scandinavia. Yes, yes. Norway and Trondheim. Oh, dear me. I shall really have to leave you to make up your own mind about them.

Magnificent, I agree. It's a remarkable building. Yes, it dated around 1200. Whether any of the original stonework remains... Do look at that vaulted arch. Just a moment. Curious. We left a door open.

No, it's coming from the roof. I devoutly hope that it is not a loose beam about to crash down on us. I should object to being discovered dead in a foreign church. Difficult to see in the shadows. Only up there, hanging from the crossbar, it's a model boat, isn't it? Good heavens, how very odd. A beautiful piece of carving. You...

You can get a clear view from this angle. Yes, I fancy those chains are making the noise as it swings backwards and forwards. Must be in a cross-straf. I don't remember that from my last visit. Now, why should anyone hang a wooden boat? Excuse me, please. Good morning. Good morning, sir. You are speaking English. I'm also speaking English, so we understand each other, yes? I don't think we need a guide, thank you. Excuse me.

I am sorry, but I hear you asking. What a boat. Yes, indeed. Can you tell us? Of course. The fishermen hang these in church to ask for protection. A blessing on their sail. You understand me? They ask the holy saints to keep them safe across the water. I see. Interesting. Are they always so elaborate? No. That one is important. That is the Anitra. Yeah, they paint the name of the boat on the side. Quite make it out.

Oh, dear. Why have I left my glasses back at the hotel? Can you read it? No, it is just about. Anitra. Yes, Anitra. It's no good. Unfortunately, I'm short-sighted.

All this will give me is a crick in the neck. If I may introduce myself. My name is Sirrenson, Lars Sirrenson. How do you do, sir? I'm Dr. James, and this is my friend George Masterman of the Masterman Press. It is my pleasure. Mr. Sirrenson. You have a holiday? Part holiday, part business. Dr. James is well known for his ghost stories. They are being translated into Norwegian, and we are here to finalize the contract. Oh, a translation. Good. But who translates? I do translations from the English myself. Ah, indeed.

Who will be making this translation? You probably know the man. There can't be so many academics in Trondheim who specialise in English literature. This is a Professor Anders. Please? Professor Anders? Have you not met Professor Jürgen Anders? Something the matter? He's gone over there. He's sitting down in that pew. You're very awkward. I wonder what we'll have to do.

Perhaps a glass of water? Yes, we can get a glass of water. If there's a cafe nearby, it's a question of being able to explain. James, James, there's somebody coming. I really think we'd better leave it to them. Oh, Lord, now there's a clergyman looking out of the vestry. I suggest we go. As you wish. Poor fellow, this is most unfortunate. Yes, perhaps it would be prudent to get out of the way. If the man is seriously unwell, as neither of us can speak the language. Oh, dear, dear.

It is very little we can profitably do. Come on. Later in the day, we noticed an ambulance drawn up outside the cathedral. I cannot say I made any immediate connection then. Indeed, I thought no more of Mr. Lars Sørensen until a year later, as I sat in my study in Cambridge, awaiting the arrival of the distinguished professor and translator, Jorgen Anders. He's late. Oh, there's plenty of time.

We're not due in the lecture hall till 7.30. Tell me, do you remember that strange person we met in Trondheim Cathedral? The old gentleman who practically choked when I mentioned Anders? Professional jealousy. Ah, yes. My dear James, we both know that hell hath no fury like an academic passed over in favour of somebody else. Where is the man? Excuse me, sir. Yes, Mrs Craddock? This parcel has just come, sir. It's addressed to Professor Jorgen Anders. Bless my soul.

In heaven's name, it gets dripping wet. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. Has the postman gone? Wasn't bored by the postman, sir. I found it on the doorstep. Is it raining? No, Dr James. What a revolting sudden mess. We cannot possibly give that to Professor Anders. I imagine some clumsy boy dropped it in a puddle. Even the ink is running. Please, take it away, Mrs Cruddy. Take it to the kitchen and get it dry. Near the boiler might do it.

Though I shouldn't be surprised if this brown paper didn't start tearing. It can't be helped. Just do the best you can. And that, of course, is the man himself. No, no, Mrs. Craddock. Get the thing out of here. Yes, Dr. James. I'll answer the door. Good evening, Dr. James. At last. My dear professor. Please, come in. May I have your coat? Come in, come in.

You remember George Masterman? My puppet. Most clearly. How are you, sir? Pretty fit, thank you. Have you had a good journey? Bad crossing. I'd not like to see you. You'll take a glass of sherry with us? Well, sit down, sit down.

They don't expect you at the lecture hall till half past seven. You are speaking, I believe, on Nordic legends. A fascinating subject. I find it, sir. Is this to be an extended tour of England? I go to several cities, yes. Now, to speak plainly, you were content with my translation of your work? It seems excellent. Oh, yes, yes. Perfectly satisfactory. First class. I found your stories most curious. Tell me, Dr. James, do you personally, do you believe in the supernatural? My dear fellow, you shall have the answer I give everybody.

I neither believe nor disbelieve. I merely collect evidence. Your Sherry. Ah, and the evidence proves... Nothing as yet. But your mind will remain open. I certainly hope so. Good, good. I put to you a suggestion. Might it not be possible to move a solid object by paranormal means? No. No? Do you not think a violent emotion, a fierce hatred, some disturbance of the brain might actually cause movement? It depends what you mean.

If I hate you so much, I pick up this decanter and throw it at your head, Professor. Why, yes. Yes, my emotion has produced movement. But if you mean, can I cause the bottle to fly through the air of its own volition? My friend, there are many things we do not understand in this world. I agree, but the law of gravity is not one of them. James, James, it's twenty past seven. Good gracious. We shall have to go, I'm afraid. I think you have... What are you speaking, sir? I have not. No, Mrs. Craddock. It's rather interesting.

It's about you know what. What? Oh, dear, dear, dear. Masterman, will you take Professor Anders across to the lecture hall? Of course. It's on the west side of the quad. Yes, sir. I'll be with you in a minute. Dr. James. Yes, yes.

I'm in a hurry. That parcel, sir, addressed to your visitor. You told me to get it dry. Only I'm sorry to say the box fell to pieces. Never mind. I put it on the kitchen table. I didn't like to touch the thing. Some kind of animal would it be? Surely not. It's about a foot long, all done up in linen, and it seems to be heaving. Heavens. Oh, if you wouldn't mind coming to the kitchen and having a look, sir. Yes, yes. You see?

Yes, my soul. Do you see what I mean? Get me a pair of scissors or a kitchen knife. Quick, quick. Yes. What on earth? Oh, well, I never... Oh, that person, it's only a toy. A lovely little toy boat. This is quite extraordinary. Oh, fancy me being frightened by a kid's plaything. Has the foreign gentleman got children, then? I have no idea.

No, no, no, Mrs Craddock, this will be a model. Use, no doubt, to illustrate some point in his talk. Oh, dear me. He may want it. Get me a carrier bag, please. It had better be delivered to the lecture hall at once. Right.

Where the devil is James? I don't know. Still, we'd better get on. Yes. Gentlemen and visitors, we are honoured by the presence of Professor Jorgen Anders. Professor Anders comes to us from Norway and will speak on Nordic myths and legends, a subject which promises to be of great interest...

He is an expert on Scandinavian mythology and has, I understand, recently published a Norwegian translation of the works of our own, Dr. Montague James. So, without further interruption from me, I give you Professor Jorgen Anders. Still no sign. He'll be here in a minute. He doesn't know he has to move the vote of thanks. Yes, yes. Good evening. I wish to begin tonight by considering the early Icelandic literature, the fragments of poetry still preserved in the richness of the Edda.

Ah, there he is. James. James, over here. I do apologise, Mrs. Cheshire. Sit down, sit down. What have you got there?

It's for him. He may need it. A model boat. The northern gods, as shown in the edda, stood as massive as these Scandinavian mountains here. They flew over the waters and rode on the tempest. Professor Anders... They were superior to the elements, indifferent to ordinary... Professor Anders... They commanded the whole force of the universe... Professor... Yes, yes, yes, what? This has come for you. What the devil is it? I don't know.

Oh, get a cloth, somebody. It's quite all right, Professor. Has it got in your papers? It's all right, sir. Let me. It was my fault. I'm afraid I interrupted you.

Do continue. Professor, you were saying? Yes. He's lost his notes now. Let us have the next slide, if you please. That is upside down. I don't think it is, Professor. No, no, of course not. Now, here we have a glacier. From this place came rushing water hardening into ice. And the gods, the gods, as we read in the Wolfsunger Saga, the gods...

I wish people with coals would stay at home. It's generally a sign that the people can't hear you. Yes. Uncreated and unseen, the great giant. Could you speak up a little, Professor Anders? Yes, please. What have I done? Oh, no, no, nothing. Could you just speak a little louder? Oh.

This was to be the creation of man in Valhalla, the hall of the chosen slain. We find... The dead, I suppose. We shall find those men who were slain in battle, who were the special favourites of Odin. Was Valhalla the same as the Greek Olympus, sir? As I explained to you... Surely not, sir. Olympus was the seat of the Greek gods. Valhalla was more like the underworld.

Wasn't it? Yes, certainly. It's a matter of opinion. Odin was also known as Votan or Vodan. Why? I think we had better keep questions until the end. Odin and the gods also created other maggot-like creatures who lived in the mountains. They were trolls and dwarves and elves. They were dark and treacherous and cunning. They pursued with spite and malice anyone they thought or they believed had in some way done them wrong.

Professor Anders? Is something the matter, sir? I must go. I must go. I must go. Professor Anders? Professor Anders? And then he just ran out. But what do you make of it, sir? Make of it? Goodness knows. Bless my soul, this is a highly respected international scholar. I cannot believe he would deliberately let us down. I feel responsible. I introduced the man to college.

I am highly embarrassed, and I am also rather cross. A nice hot whiskey, sir. Yes, that will be splendid, Mrs. Craddock. Thank you. Let me answer that. I suspect a deputation complaining about tonight's fiasco. This is quite intolerable. I must really protest. Good heavens. Dr. James, what can I say to you? I have no idea. Excuse me, please. Professor Anders, Professor Anders.

it is nearly midnight. I am in the process of going to bed. you have wrecked what should have been an event of some importance in the presence of 100 students and several of our most distinguished dons. you came here sir at my personal invitation. if I call your extraordinary behavior discourteous it is the very least... I must have my coat. I beg your pardon? you have this. I want this. my coat. my papers. my notebooks. I collected your personal belongings from the lecture hall. it seemed the only rational thing to do. kindly wait a minute. there is a hat also.

You had better come in. Oh, dear me. You're soaking wet. Did you not take a cab? I have, Ock. It does not matter. Oh, look, please sit down. You appear to be ill. I really think I'd better offer you a bed for the night. No, I do not wish to sleep. Oh, it's no trouble, I assure you. My housekeeper is still about. I shall ask her to prepare the room. No, no, no. I must go from here at once. If you insist. Your whiskey, sir. Oh, I...

Would the gentleman like a glass? No, Mrs. Craddock, you will find a pile of things on the chair in my study. A hat, clothes, if you could bring them. Yes. You must forgive me. My dear fellow, what on earth happened? It is not possible for an inanimate object to move. You have said this, yes? It is not possible. Excuse me, I fail to understand. Ah, Mrs. Craddock, thank you.

Your coat, hat, and your briefcase. And there was this too, sir, the little boat. It's yours. It came by post. Addressed to you. No, no, no. My coat, please.

That is a present. Yes. A little gift for yourself, Dr. James. A thank you present, eh? Oh, you must have that. You must keep that, my briefcase. Professor Anders, there is really no need. No, not at all. You're most welcome. I wish to repay your kindness. So good. So kind. It's still raining.

let me call you cab. goodbye my dear sir. such a pleasure to meet with you. goodbye. wait! at least take my umbrella. gracious. do you know I begin to wonder if the man is entirely safe. dr James. he's coming back. for God's sake keep it high. what? what did you say? he's gone sir. gone. then I could only suggest you lock up mrs Craddock.

Dr. James! Dr. James! I don't want breakfast just yet, Mrs. Craddock. It's not breakfast, sir. You've got a visitor. What time is it? Half past eight. It's a young lady, sir, and she says it's urgent. Nonsense. What's her name? Anders. I think she might be some relation of that foreign gentleman who called last night. Oh, dear, dear, dear. Put her in the drawing room and tell her to wait. She won't like that, sir. She can scarcely expect me to come downstairs in my dressing gown.

Are you Dr. James? I am. Good morning, madam. What can I do for you? My name is Caroline Anders. Ah, yes, a relation I take it. And you speak English. Good. What is the precise connection between you and Professor Anders? I'm his wife. His wife? Good heavens. I am his wife, Dr. James. And I speak English because I am English. I beg your pardon. How very stupid of me. But I had no idea the professor was married. Jorgen has been married twice. I'm his second wife. Tell me, who are you indeed?

May I offer you some coffee? This is not a social call, Dr. James, and I object to wasting time. Where is he? Forgive me? Where is my husband? Am I likely to know? Jorgen gave a lecture at your college last night. No. He didn't? I regret to tell you that his talk was cancelled for reasons which I prefer not to go into. I form the impression he was unwell. My husband has excellent health. If you say so.

It is a thousand pities you were not at the lecture, Mrs. Anders. I had to visit my parents in Cambridge. I can't watch Jorgen all the time. With due respect, madam, neither can I. Are you sure he doesn't suffer from some nervous complaint? Certainly not. Why? What has he said to you? Very little. We have a very important lecture tour. We have to be in London by the 10th. Where did he spend the night? At some hotel, I imagine. No. I've been to the Royal Imperial. He checked in but never came back.

He told the desk clerk he had an appointment with you at half past six. That is correct. I saw him then. And again round about midnight. Mrs. Anders, you are naturally very concerned about this. I suggest we telephone the police. No. If he has disappeared... Don't be absurd. There is no need. No. No. I really think the police ought to be notified in case some accident... But it's your fault!

You organised the whole event. You were responsible. When you saw Jorgen was ill, why didn't you send for me? Because I failed to realise anything was wrong until halfway through the proceedings. And as for calling you, quite frankly, I had no idea you existed. I am staying at the Royal Imperial. I shall make a note of the address. Thank you. And call me the moment you have any news. Of course. The way you assume it. Mrs. Anders? Mrs. Anders? What is it? Where did you get it? What? That object. I beg your pardon?

Oh, that. Small boat. It was a present from your husband. I don't believe you. If you wish me to return it. No. Why should we care about a toy boat? You keep it. Keep it safe. It's nothing to do with us. And then she departed in a whirl of fur and indignation. Strange. You know she came here as well? To your office? Oh, yes. Yes.

In, as you so aptly describe it, a whirl of fur and indignation. She seemed to think that I, or the college authorities, or the publishing firm of Masterman and Son, had kidnapped her husband. Good gracious. Where the devil has the man gone? I can't imagine. What did you make of her? She's very pretty, and astonishingly young. May married to December, didn't you feel? The lady's handsome enough, but I found her lacking in grace, and, dare I say it, with a disposition of solid credit. Forgive me.

I really don't see what we can do to help. My dear fellow, we can't do anything short of going to the police, and she won't hear of that. I wonder why. Oh, by the way, we had a very pleasant notice in the Norwegian press. Would you care to see it? What? Oh, yes, thank you. Yes, indeed. My secretary has the file. Did you hear that? What? Someone coughing in the outer office. Miss Lindsay must have shown up a visitor. Miss Lindsay? Oh, please don't bother. Your secretary is busy. Nobody in the room. That's odd.

Miss... Miss Lindsay? It doesn't matter, I assure you. But I definitely heard a kind of dry cough. Oh, well. Let me find this file for you. Good heavens. It should be somewhere around. Masterman, bless my soul. I must really ask you to explain. Megabond? How in the name of wonder did that thing get here? What? What? There is a model boat on the desk. Oh.

I'll ask Miss Lindsay. Masterman, I left that boat in my house less than two hours ago. I can only assume it's Caroline Anders brought it to you. No. She must have done confound the woman. I said she might have it. I offered to give it back, but to return to my home and deliberately steal... James, James, Mrs. Anders had nothing in her hand, and I have never seen that boat before. Oh, but you have.

Of course, the lecture hall. Earlier. Your study? Earlier, earlier. Well, I'm sorry, I'm afraid my memory... It was hanging in the cathedral at Trondheim. Surely not. Examine the carving, the shape of the prow, and the name carved on the side. I haven't got my glasses with me. Be so good as to read the name. Anitra? Yes, I have the most horrid premonition, Nitra. Well, it must be a copy, a souvenir. It's come from some gift shop for the visitors. Oh, dear me, I do so hope you are right. Oh, damned!

Put your finger on it. A kind of electric... But wood does not conduct electricity, does it? The whole frame is shivering. Vibration, perhaps? By all means, let us call it vibration. Let me understand you. This boat was in your house recently. Two hours ago. I gave it to my housekeeper, who very sensibly desired to wash it of the dust. It feels dry enough now, and the shuddering has stopped. Dear, can such things be...

kindly ask your secretary to bring me string, scissors and quite a lot of brown paper. Certainly as soon as she returns. Though why... I fear we're in deep waters and meddling with a matter which could be extremely grave, dangerous. I shall return the boat to Mrs. Anders immediately at the Royal Imperial Hotel. Oh dear, oh dear. This is quite appalling. We shall be soaked. We must have walked half day. Dripping from the gutter. Turn up your coat collar. Allow me. Thank you.

Oh, there's a cab. Cab! Cab! Well, well. What an extraordinary piece of work. We should both have caught a very nasty cold. James. As it is, my socks are decidedly wet. James, what have you done with the parcel? I had it... I had it under my arm. Where on earth? You put it down when we took shelter from the rain. You've left it in the doorway. Oh, no. Not to at all.

Cabby! Cabby! Something wrong, sir? Yes, indeed. What a stupid... Please turn around and drive back. That was right you are, sir. Where to? The place where you picked us up. As long as you remember where that was, governor. It was unloaded like a... Where was it? It was the doorway of a drapery store next to Taylor's snuff and tobacco shop. You want to go back now? Hurry, man, hurry! It's not far. I must find it. Who do you mean?

Oh, dear. Dear, dear, dear. That didn't take long. All right, James? It isn't there. Good Lord. Are you certain? I mean, that's the same doorway. I'm positive. Yes, I put the packet up against the glass window. And the thing has gone. Stolen? Oh, come, come, come, come. Yes, much too strong a word. No doubt some passerby has picked it up. That is just possible, I suppose. My dear fellow, it hasn't walked away by itself.

So, back to my office? Yes, where to, sir? The Royal Imperial Hotel at once. Do you really want to go there this time? If you please, as fast as possible. But, James, there's no point. Why bother? I have a certain dreadful unease until we find Professor Anders. Though if what I suspect is wrong, if what I fear is entirely mistaken, then there is no point in the journey at all, thank God. But, Walter, he said it must be kept away forever.

I think you must be catching a feverish cold. This way, I think. Yes, yes, sir. 212, 213, 214. Pray God, this is a delusion. I have the most appalling fear. We must find Professor Anders. Good morning to you. Anders? Bless my soul. That is quite extraordinary. You wanted to see my wife. Please, gentlemen, step inside.

How are you? Well, yes. We've been wondering where you were, sir. Please, where should I be? I'm staying in this excellent hotel. There's a problem? Your wife is looking for you. Ah, no, not possible. Some misunderstanding, I think. Caroline is here with me. At the Imperial? You're together? May I ask since when? Oh, one hour, perhaps two. Well, we've obviously made a mistake. What's that noise? Excuse me? Someone is coughing. Irritating, yes. The person in the next room has a cold. Professor Anders...

I have no wish to intrude on you or the lady. But certain curious events make it necessary. Can either of you explain... Please, we wait for Caroline. That will be better. At the moment, she's taking her bath. You would like a drink? I'm afraid we're inconveniencing you. This is evidently the wrong time. James. James. We must call back after lunch. Not at all. You must eat with us. I'm sure Caroline would wish me to invite you. Oh, dear God. Caroline? Caroline?

what in heaven's name? Caroline? Caroline what is it? it's locked. you must open the door. why don't you help me? put your shoulders at the top panel. try to break the hinges. it's all right Mrs. Anders. your husband is coming. please calm yourself. oh no.

Oh dear God! What was that? What did she say? I can't see anything. There's steam. Lift her out of the water, quickly! Masterman, get a doctor, get the housekeeper! Get somebody for pity's sake! Please, hold her hand very, very carefully! Please, please, no, she's fainted, yes, just fainted. She's just fainted. She had not just fainted. Caroline Anders was dead. Particles of talcum dust drifted across the mirror.

Good morning, James. Oh, dear, may I help you? Have you seen today's paper? Mrs. Anders is to be buried on Tuesday. Ah.

ghastly tragedy. Heart failure, I imagine, don't you? I imagine? What do I imagine? No, this is pointless speculation. And besides, I could be wrong. I suppose as a matter of courtesy, we shall have to go. You think it necessary for both of us? I think it vital that I should come. He asked if I believed in it. I beg your pardon? The supernatural movement of objects. And you said no, rather wittily, I remember. Something to do with emotion and throwing things at your enemy's head. Why?

I listened to him. You did? Why should Professor Anders be so frightened of a model boat? Well, I presume it means something to him. Oh, yes. Oh, dear me. Yes, Masterman. It means something. The parents have a house by the river. I checked the address. The ceremony is at 2.30. Shall I call for you at 2? We can share a cab. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Someone is coughing. It's cold out here in the churchyard. Can you see?

Can you see him? Anders? Yes, he's over there. Not Anders. I can't see anyone I know. Oh, dear me. I so much hoped you could. Why? It doesn't matter. And the blessing of God remain with you always. Amen. Amen. Oh, they're moving off. Shall we join the party going to the house, or would you rather look at the floral tributes? Quite a number of people have sent wreaths. James? James, what is it? Dear God, I am not hallucinating. No, no. Oh.

Neither is it a trick of the light. It is there, isn't it? Against the wall. Between the crosses of lilies and the brick. I don't know what you mean. Oh. Oh, yes. You can see it too. The boat. That's impossible. Try to get hold of it. For pity's sake. We cannot let Anders catch sight of this. The people are watching us, James. Don't. Stand in front of it. It can't be the same one. No. Then we have two boats called, Anitra. Let us be rational. I left that object in a doorway.

It is possible, possible, my not probable, that some person discovered the thing and carried it here. Yes, of course. Of course? Well, yes, why not? Not a logical theory. Oh, dear, dear, dear, pass up by. Who happened to know Professor Anders and chance to hear of the funeral? And being, no doubt, a fellow Norwegian of benevolent intent. Oh, come, come, come. It is not even halfway reasonable. Do use your common sense. But the only other explanation... Does not bear thinking about it.

Quite. He's coming this way. Dr. James, thank you for your card. Professor Anders, you have all our sympathy in your great loss. You're so kind. You need not trouble to hide it from me, sir. I beg your pardon? I have already seen it. The flowers. Yes, yes. So many and so beautiful. Please stand aside. I know the boat is there. Forgive me.

Is there a special meaning? No. You can be frank with me. So good of you to come. Professor Anders, I once told you I have an open mind. If we are face to face with some kind of mystery... By no means, no, no. I give you my word. As you wish. I should have preferred a few honest facts. Excuse me, you will excuse my English. I do not always understand you. A pity. I am not ungrateful for your kindness. But I'm willing to trust me. What can I say? The boat. A private joke. A piece of childish malice. Yes.

Caroline would have known what to do. She was such a strong person, Caroline. Caroline has always managed my life, you see. Caroline would have told me how to... Please, will you come this way, everybody? But now I understand. I have been very foolish, so weak, so stupid. You know, it is almost as if Caroline herself was speaking to me. Yes, yes. At last I realize what it is I have to do.

Please do join the rest of the company. There's a meal waiting at the house. Don't you think we should go now, James? Excuse me, are you Dr. James? Yes, indeed. I hope you've got a drink. Thank you. I'm Caroline's mother, Mrs. Vickers. How do you do? My friend, George Master. Madam, I'm so sorry. Yes, yes, yes. She's gone, my lovely girl. I can't cry any more. That part of it is finished. Could I have a word with you in private? By all means. Please, follow me. There's nobody in my husband's study.

I only met your daughter once, Mrs. Vickers. She struck me as the most beautiful creature. How did he do it? I beg your pardon? Anders killed her, didn't he? Bless my soul! You are under some astounding misconception. Dear me! Of course, I quite understand in your present state of grief and shock. You were there at the time he murdered my darling child. Mrs. Vickers! Just tell me how it was done. Good heavens, you must rid yourself immediately of this extraordinary delusion.

I assure you there is absolutely no reason to suspect... No. His first wife died. So I believe a tragic coincidence. They said it was a boating accident. She was supposed to have drowned in a boating accident. I never wanted Caroline to marry the man. That's because he was rich and famous. My Caroline could have had her pick. She was wasted on that...

Do you realise Jorgen Anders was old enough to be her father? Indeed, yes, yes. I told her to forget the money all those vulgar jersey kept buying for her. He was a foreigner. Did she ever go to Norway? She had a good home. Mrs Vickers, I do sympathise. It must be hard to come to terms with... I gave her everything. She was my little girl. And now she's dead. Murdered. Mrs Vickers.

What I have seen, and what you have just told me, confirms my impression that Professor Anders adored his wife. More, I am convinced he was totally dependent on her, and he's devastated by her loss. He talked to you, I suppose. Smooth, cunning lies. James, the cab is here. Old, evil hypocrite. If you insist. But as for killing his wife, I really must protest.

By the time she died, Professor Anders was in the room with me and George Masterman here, who will confirm the fact. Isn't that so? What? When the accident happened, we were all together. That's true, Mrs Vickers. He never left us, even for a moment. Besides, the bathroom door was locked. You won't help me. Madam, there is no way in which... Good gracious. Where's that smoke coming from? Yeah, I can smell burning. Is something on fire? The garden's full of smoke. Good Lord, it's getting into the house. The wind must be in our direction. Good Lord.

I can see flames. There's somebody out there. My God. Anders. It must be man. He's trying to burn down my house. Stop that. Stop that. What in heaven's name? He's trying to burn the boat. That's lunatic. There'll be an accident if a spark lands on the wooden fence, wouldn't you? That rubbish. We'd better put a stop to this. Come along.

Dear God, what is that woman doing now? She's getting the boat away from Anders. She's pulled it out of the fire. I'll let go. Give me that. I've chosen modicum of sense. Let's give the lady credit. That should stop the fire. Not in the water. Not in the water. It must not go in the water. As we watched, Mrs. Vickers ran down the garden, crossed the grass and hurled the blazing boat into the river.

There was an acrid smell and smoke rose hissing from the surface. Dark oily bubbles drifted downstream, catching and blackening the weed. With the main source of heat gone, the bonfire began to subside in collapsing ash and billowing smoke, gusting across the lawn in a pulsating cloud. The air became full of tiny specks, like a swarm of malevolent flies. In the meantime, Anders had gone to the riverbank and was trying to fish the boat out of the water. Suddenly he slipped and fell in.

Help! No! Let me help. Get a pole, a rope. Hurry! The current's sweeping him away. He's going to drown. Well, here's a rope, and they're launching a dinghy. I might be able to reach him from here. If you'll hang on to my waist. Right. To prevent me from falling into the water myself. Can you manage? Now take the rope. Professor Anders! Hold on to this!

He's missed it. Dear God! Help! Unters, don't struggle. Just stay afloat. They've got the dinghy out. Help! Here you go! Hurry! For heaven's sake, don't panic, man. There's no danger. You're going to be all right. The boat is coming. Yes, yes, they'll have you out in a moment. Please, keep calm. The boat is coming for me. Alitra! Even as I watched, he flung up his arms and disappeared beneath the water.

I cannot to this day understand it, for of course the dinghy was coming for him. It was a bear ten yards away, unless in his distress Professor Anders imagined some quite other and alien vessel, but I prefer not to dwell on the notion. A year later, at George Masterman's insistence, I found myself in Trondheim again.

Your book has been a great success here. There's even some idea of bringing out a second collection, using the rest of your stories. And another translator. Well, of course. That's why we have agreed to meet Mr. Nielsen. Poor Jorgen Anders. Oh, he was very unpopular here. I gather the yacht accident was distinctly suspect. Several people thought Professor Anders had murdered his first wife in order to marry the beautiful English visitor. Ah, there's Nielsen. Good morning, gentlemen. Good morning. Good morning.

May I introduce Dr. James? A pleasure, my dear sir. I understand we may work together. Perhaps you have read the Anders translation? I have. A great scholar. Such a pity he is dead. Indeed. Tell me, Mr. Nielsen, do you think Professor Anders murdered his first wife? Yes. Good gracious.

Bless my soul. You knew the lady? Anitra Anders. A little. She was very timid. She did not like the sea. When he insisted she sail with him, Mrs. Anders hung a small boat in the cathedral, as the fishermen do, praying the good saints to protect her. A pious hope. It seems to have been misplaced. I did not know her very well. I knew her father much better, Lash Surrensen. Lash Surrensen? Upon my word, we met him once. So...

Well, for what it is worth, Sirrenson always believed his daughter had been murdered. Now, that's very interesting. Did you hear that, James? Now, perhaps Mr. Sirrenson took the model boat and pursued Anders to England. Oh, impossible. Well, if he really hated the man and suspected... I'm sorry, what you suggest is quite impossible. Why? Because Lars Sirrenson died in Trondheim Cathedral over a year ago. On what date, Mr. Nielsen? Oh, I am forgetting. Does it matter? Probably not.

But I have a horrid presentiment. All right, not her father, but imagine some other member of the family bent on revenge, carrying the boat to England. No. You can't be certain. I assure you I can, Mr. Masterman. The little boat is hanging in Trondheim Cathedral at this moment. Do you wish to see it? If you would be so good. Please follow me, but be careful crossing the road.

He led us through that magnificent building and there it was, swinging slightly in the draft, creaking a little, a model of the boat Anitra. This time, thank goodness, I had not forgotten my glasses. We studied the thing in silence. Then we thanked Mr. Nielsen and left. It would have been pointless to trouble that good man any further. But what alarms me, a source of a certain deep unease. Anders had asked me would it not be possible to move an object

by paranormal means. I had rejected the idea so emphatically, but now, you see, there are scorch marks along the side of that little boat in Trondheim Cathedral, and part of the hull has been burnt. Upon my word, you could swear someone had tried to set fire to it. Michael Williams played M. R. James and Brett Usher, masterman, in The Boathook,

by Sheila Hodgson, Sorensen, Peter Tudnam, Mrs Craddock, Joanna Wake, Professor Anders, David King, Caroline Anders, Cyriel Jenkins, Nielsen and Chairman, Eric Allen, students, Neil Roberts and David Lerner. The director was Martin Jenkins. MUSIC PLAYS

Emma, I refuse to have this conversation again. But, Father, please listen. I want to marry him. Marriage is not a simple whim. It's an altogether more complex business. This is no whim, Father. I love Sir Ashurst. He is the man I want to marry. It's that simple. It seems simple because you are little more than a girl, child.

A proper marriage settlement involves gold and property. I refuse to simply be sold to the highest bidder like Sir Mayor. You do me an injustice, Emma. I think only of you. Since your poor mother died, your happiness and security have been my sole preoccupation. All I want is to be free from this barricaded fort. Mercifully, you were too young to remember the months when this fort was besieged.

The hunger and disease during which your mother died. Four nights I kept a vigil beside her until I would have died myself that day. But I had a baby to think of. It was you who kept me going. I promised her I would always look after you. Her little flower, she called you.

The day you were born, she had made me climb down from the ramparts and pick the white flowers she loved. On the rocks. The only flowers that grow in this forsaken place. Not for long, but for those few months. We work side by side, these into the evening's packing orders.

There were none of these fancy unions then. We slaved till the job was finished. You're dancing. Or your fellow may be waiting for you outside. She loved those flowers. She made a garland of your cradle. Dearest father. I bet you kept a few fellows waiting in your time alley. Aye. They were hard times, Mrs. O'Hare. They were gay times.

Such singing you heard in this mill. Everything from calm, oily ballads to music hall songs. Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do. I'm half crazy. Mom, I never heard her sing before. Have I a lovely voice still, Alice, like you once said?

Remember me, Alice? Remember Ellie? Mum? Nobody else left remembers me, Alice. I knew we shouldn't have brought her here, Graham. I'm sorry about this, Mr Jennings. We'll head on. I think being here has slightly upset her. She's doing no harm, Mrs Brackett. Thanks for letting us bring her in. Best we go is I don't want her to get too excited and cause a bit of a scene. Well, you're in the wrong building then.

I had workers on the late shift running out of here in terror, convinced they heard Alice calling their name. Others in the room have heard nothing, of course, but they've been known to play tricks on each other. But occasionally, odd things have happened. Reams of paper moved at night that no two men could lift. Boxes thrown about. Unexplained coldnesses. Working here, you just get used to Alice's ghost, and yet somehow...

You never get used to it. Nah, nah, nah. I just don't believe in that sort of thing. Have you heard of calling you Mr Jennings? When you're a foreman like me, workers, even ghost workers, call you a lot of names, but rarely your own. I've never heard her speak to me, but I've heard... What? Such beautiful singing. The voice of an angel. That's how the paper described it in the report on a parish concert. I did a bit of research on her in the local library.

She sang at a concert just up the road, two months before the Titanic was launched. This mill made all the napkins for the Titanic. Such an order. We never thought we'd get it finished in time. With the original newspaper cutting up in the office, she sang something by Puccini. And then, when Irish eyes are smiling... The funny thing is, on my last wedding anniversary...

I took my wife out for a meal and found myself listening to the pipe music in the restaurant. I had to ask who it was. Puccini. I found that I knew every note because that piece runs through my head every time I walk down these stairs here. This was once the packing bay up here. That's right. Let me see if I still have the article about her.

She was always in too much of a hurry down the stairs after we finished packing. Who was Ellie? Alice. She couldn't wait to be out the door. All her talk about the stages she was going to sing on and women here begging for another song or to talk about the shows she saw as a girl in London. Always talking about herself, airs and graces, thinking she was above us. I didn't like her much. Ah, don't say that, Mum. It's true. Truth is, at that time...

I envied her. She ran down those stairs every evening, dreaming of the day she'd escape. I hated the fact that I couldn't have that dream. Mum. At 16, I hated being ordinary. I wasn't ordinary until her family came back here from London and she started working this mill and made us all seem ordinary. I used to sing too, you know.

People were always calling upon me at parties. You? I never knew that. I sang before she came to work here. The older women begged me for songs, said I was like a lark. I was their pet. Oh, the work was hard. But the older women adopted me and made a fuss and often talked of the lovely husband I'd get with my beautiful long hair. That made me feel special. I've seen photographs of you as a girl, Ellie.

You were beautiful. Teddy, you must have had all the young men here falling at your feet. You only think I was beautiful because you never saw Alice? I never meant it to happen, Alice. Can you forgive me? I know I wished it, but I never wished it to happen. Mum. Mum. Are you okay? Listen. What? Mum. Right, Graham, let's go. Okay. Rachel, listen. Can't you hear? Hear what, Mum? Seeing. Right and gay.

Irish eyes are smiling. Sure they'll steal your toy. Wasn't that a gorgeous wee song, Alice? Oh, it's as good as being at a concert. Isn't that right, Ellie? You have a nice enough voice, all right, Alice. Haven't you got one too, Ellie, if you'd only get it trained? I'm always saying you should have lessons. I know what my dad would say if I suggested throwing money away on singing lessons.

hating and anyway. My dad is always encouraging me, but man gets cross and says to talk sense. She won't even go to the concert tonight to hear me, if I ever get there at all. How will we get all this work done? I curse this damn daughter. I thought we'd be gone an hour ago. I'll lose my place in the concert. We'll get finished soon, Alice. Sure half the parish is only going to hear you.

I bet your mother'd be there, proud as a peacock in the front row. Mam won't be happy until I marry a boring postman. At least you'd have a bit of peace in bed in the mornings at the time postmen get up. Oh, a man's a man. If he can't be there to annoy you at six in the morning for his bit of business, he'll annoy you at four. Sure, if my Jack annoyed me at four in the morning, I'd be asleep by the time he finished. Ah-ha!

I'd wait to find him snoring on top of me. Listen to that talk, that. Listen to the young girl. I'd want an Italian husband with a big baritone voice who'd sing to me. All night? What would hide the neighbours wanting a bit of sleep? Who would you like to marry, Ellie? A kind man who'd take me out of this mill. You'd be lucky. I'm here 30 years. Men that rob banks in London haven't served 30 years.

I wound up like old Maggie on the stairs there. Barely able to scrub the stone steps for a few pence to keep her bones together. Oh, Maggie scares me. Ah, she's a fish tongue. She called me all kinds of names yesterday for knocking her bucket over. I don't...

I didn't mean to. You'd think she owns those stairs. Get away to hell, you old witch, I said. I'll be out of here one day singing on the London stage and you'll still be here screwing those steps. Oh, Maggie, wouldn't I like that? Time was she'd have grabbed you by the hair. I felt sorry and mean afterwards, but she gave me such a fright by shouting, You say the truth, Alice. You'll be gone and we'll all still be here. You can bring me a fur coat and a mother a pair of snuffboxes.

I pay for singing lessons for Ellie. Or maybe find her a rich husband off in Italy and ship him to Belfast in a crate. I'll find my own husband. We're only teasing, Ellie. We're all fed up stuck here so late. But another hour and we'll be finished this blasted order. Aye. And we'll go down with Alice to hear her sing at the parish concert. Oh, it was so lovely last time. Even the paper said so.

You can come with us. I won't. I'm not going to some silly concert. You'll enjoy it. Oh, come on, Ellie. You can say you saw me before I was famous. I hope you croak like a frog on stage. Who do you think you are, looking down your nose at us? You with all your airs and graces.

I hope, Alice, that you never get out of this factory. Ellie. I don't look down on anyone. All your fancy talk of stages and marrying Italians. There's nothing wrong with dreaming of wanting something better.

I thought you were my friend, Ellie. Didn't I even ask you to sing a duet with me at the concert? Only to show up my bad singing even more. Don't be silly. It was to get you singing again. You sang all the time when I came here first. Take back what you said, Ellie. You're spiteful, Ellie. I didn't mean it. Apologise. I'm sorry. I'm just tired. Here, give me those sheets. You head on, Alice. Go out the back gate. What?

I don't mind staying late. I'll finish your work too. I can't ask you to do that. What if the bus found out? It's half six. Even if you run, you'll hardly make the start of the concert. Try and get yourself moved back to the end so we can all see you if we get there on time. Can we go? Go on, love. We'll cover for you. What if old Maggie squeals on me? Old Maggie isn't the worst once you leave her in peace. Go, will you? You're a star, Ellie. A real friend. Quick now while Maggie isn't looking. Bye.

We'll all help you finish Alice's share, Ellie. It's natural for you to be jealous once in a while. I'm not jealous. Watch my baby's shares. Leave the child alone, Maggie. Mind the button. Somebody help! Quick! Alice! Is she all right, Maggie? She's very still. Her hair's twisted off, Molly. Oh, I reckon the child's broken her neck. Don't you ever hear me?

Oh, sweet Lord, she's dead. Alice, she'll never leave the mill now. But Ellie, love, oh, God, forgive me. She'll never leave here again. Mum, can you hear me? Grab that chair. I'll get her some water. Mum. What is it, Rachel? Have you heard a word I've been saying? You came over all strange. Why is it? I've been visiting. Did I come here to visit old friend? No.

I'm tired. Take me back to the home. My daughter's coming to visit me soon. I'm your daughter. It's me, Mom. You know me, Mom. I know ghosts. I'm 82. Daisy, too, the only friend you have left, a ghost. Do you forgive me? For what, Mom? I'm not talking to you. You forgive me! He's smiling, short as life from morning spring.

In the lilt of Irish laughter, you can hear the angels sing. When Irish hearts are happy, all the world seems bright and gay. When Irish eyes are smiling, sure they'll steal your heart away.

In The Linen Mill, you heard Dawn Bradfield as Rachel and Doreen Keogh as Ellie, with Jodie O'Neill as young Ellie, Alison McKenna as Alice, John Hewitt as Mr Jennings, Luke Griffin as Graham and Rosina Brown as Maggie and the linen worker. It was written by Dermot Bulger and produced by Gemma McMullen. More haunting women tomorrow with The Wedding Bouquet, with the bride turning up on time being the least of the problems.

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.

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

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

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

Prepare yourself for our next live scream 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.