
The Fat Man 51-01-17 (253) The Nightmare Murder
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George Dutton
No purchase necessary vgw group void where prohibited by law 21 + terms and conditions apply. Here comes the fat man in the nightmare murder Starring J. Scott Smart.
Joan Cameron
There he goes. He's stepping on the scales. Weight 237 pounds. Fortune danger. Who is it?
Brad Runyon
The fat man. It takes a good man to make a first class old fashioned. You have to muddle the sugar, bitters and water properly. Then toss in the ice and whiskey. And then carefully twist the lemon peel on top. Like anything else, it's simply a matter of following the recipe. But here's another illustration. If you take a liberal jigger of motive, add a slice of opportunity and a dash of means, and then pile a dozen or more old fashions on top of this, you're quite likely to end up with a real gruesome hangover murder. Like any solid, normal, routine job, this one began in my office. It was just after lunch. My feet were on the desk. I was munching a peppermint. I'd popped the latest edition just south of the bulge that marked the last resting place of a brace of breaded pork chops when the phone rang. Runyon speaking.
George Dutton
The detective?
Brad Runyon
That's the debatable point. But I like to think so. Who's this?
George Dutton
My name's George Dutton. Maybe you've heard of me.
Brad Runyon
Oh, you mean the author.
George Dutton
Well, that's a debatable point, too. I write mystery stories.
Brad Runyon
Yes, I know about private eyes who get hit on the head.
George Dutton
Look, I've never had any need for a private eye. I don't even know what one looks like. I never even saw a pistol or a gangster or a corpse. Until last night. A corpse, that is.
Brad Runyon
Wait. Just wait a minute. Let's take this in secret. Are you hiring me?
George Dutton
Maybe. How much?
Brad Runyon
50 in expenses.
George Dutton
Well, that's a lot. But I need you pretty badly.
Brad Runyon
What's the trouble?
George Dutton
I. I killed a girl last night. I want you to prove it.
Brad Runyon
Say that again. And slow.
George Dutton
You better come down here right away.
Brad Runyon
Where are you?
George Dutton
Melville Hospital. Alcoholic ward.
Brad Runyon
The closest I'D ever been to the alcoholic ward at Melville, was reading the Lost Weekend. After I convinced them I wasn't a prospective client, they gave me some of the dope on George Dutton. Their assumption was his writer's imagination had picked up an Italian collaborator during the period in question. Namely a batch of martinis.
George Dutton
Runyon.
Brad Runyon
Yeah. What can I do for you, George?
George Dutton
Sit down on the bed. Don't. Take it easy, will you? My head.
Brad Runyon
I know what you mean. Is that better?
George Dutton
Yeah. Now, look, you're gonna think I'm crazy like the rest of them, but I'm not paying you for an opinion. Here. Here's two days worth. 100 bucks.
Brad Runyon
Thanks. Now, for this. I'm supposed to hang a murder app on you, huh? Or did I hear it right over the phone?
George Dutton
You did. At least I'll know, Runyon. If it happened, if I killed her, at least I'll know I'm not crazy. Anything's better than that kind of doubt, Runyon. Anything.
Brad Runyon
Now, take it easy, George. Just tell me about it, huh?
George Dutton
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Calm, collected, lucid, logical. Right? Yeah, yeah, okay. I've been working hard, see, trying to meet my publisher's deadline on the novel. I got tired last night around 7 and went to bed. Dead, wrung out, gone, you know? Now, this I'm sure of. Somewhere around 10 or 11 o', clock, I got up, put on my clothes and went out for a walk around the block. I just turned the corner when it happened.
Brad Runyon
Why?
George Dutton
I'd seen the car a lot in my neighborhood. Black Buick convertible. I'd seen the girl in it, too. Stunning girl. Blonde, eyes like sapphires. Figure like.
Brad Runyon
Well, yeah, I know what you mean. So what?
George Dutton
So she. So she pulled up to the curb and asked me to get in.
Brad Runyon
How come?
George Dutton
Well, Am I so horrible? She did it, that's all. Okay. Who was he? I don't know. I don't know anything about her. She handed me a bottle. And that's how it started.
Brad Runyon
Mistake number one.
George Dutton
You're so right. So anyway, we drove around for a while and I listened to her talk. And pretty soon the bottle was gone. So she pulled out another one and pretty soon that one was gone too.
Brad Runyon
What's she talking about?
George Dutton
Death.
Brad Runyon
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
George Dutton
It seemed perfectly normal at the time. She was fascinated by death. Wrote poems about it, she said. Quoted from them all the time. Anyway, things got pretty fuzzy about then. I don't remember much. People, voices, lights. One thing, though, Runya. One thing. There was a big red rooster about 10ft high.
Brad Runyon
Oh, yeah. Naturally, it wouldn't be an evening without one. What was he?
George Dutton
Oh, wait a minute. Wait a minute. A sign run you A neon sign. I remember it blinking at me while she stopped by the trash can.
Brad Runyon
What trash can?
George Dutton
How do I know what trash can? A trash can. There was the Red Rooster and the trash can. And she stopped and took something out of her purse and dropped it in. There were more lights and more people and more riding in the car. And then pretty soon, we were alone. She was pouring drinks for the two of us.
Brad Runyon
Now, where was this?
George Dutton
I don't know. You got me. She handed me a glass. See? Erased hers. For a toast. To death, she said. And I saw she had a gun in her hand, pointing it at her head. I grabbed it, got a hold of it, but it went off.
Brad Runyon
Oh, great.
George Dutton
Last thing I remember was her lying on the floor. And then the floor was rushing up at me. Well, that's it.
Brad Runyon
What do you mean, that's it? What happened after that?
George Dutton
Nothing. When I opened my eyes, I was in my own bed, in my own apartment with my clothes right where I'd left them at seven the night before. The night man swears. I wasn't out of my room all night. Nobody believed me. They said I dreamed it. I had a couple more drinks, found the cop on the beat and told him too. That's how I got here. They all think I'm crazy. Well, maybe I am. Maybe I am. But go on, find out for me. Runyon. Get on it. Will you get on it.
Brad Runyon
So I got on it first. There was a janitor at George's apartment place.
George Dutton
Mr. Runyon, I benightman here for 12 years. I know George Dutton as long as he lives here. He couldn't leave this building last night without me seeing him. And I didn't see him. You can take my word, he's not.
Brad Runyon
Then there was the bartender George had mentioned. Look, all I know is he come in at an indecent hour this morning.
George Dutton
Screaming for the hair of the dog that bit him. Just like all the other times.
Brad Runyon
Yeah, especially the last time. What happened last time? Oh, same thing. Couple of years ago. Only that night he got out of bed and trapped Adolf Hitler in the information booth at Grand Central. The cop who'd hauled him over to Melville said the same thing. Likewise, a couple of news boys verdict unanimous. George was a lush and a loony, and I was inclined to go along with him on the theory that a special convertible, complete with blonde, is something even a New Yorker will stop and look at. I quizzed the Service stations around George's apartment house. Sure enough, up comes the guy who'd greased its gold plated chassis only a month before the record showed it belonged to Olivia Bradshaw at a Park Avenue address that went with the car. So I trotted over. Some kind of a soiree was going on in the huge living room. The butler looked at me, raised his eyebrows one at a time, and finally decided I wouldn't run off at the silver plate and hustle me into the library, which seemed to have another occupant.
Joan Cameron
As a spirit with yellow eyes gleaming Will I to thy courage Come again.
Brad Runyon
When you say that smile. What is it, this book?
Joan Cameron
Baudelaire. Lousy translation. By the way, I'm Joan Cameron, Lydia's poor country cousin. Who are you? One of Uncle Charles? Tribal sycophants?
Brad Runyon
Oh, I'm not sure what that means, but I don't think so. My name's Brad Runyon.
Joan Cameron
Oh.
Brad Runyon
Where is Lydia, by the way?
Joan Cameron
Out somewhere. You looking for?
Brad Runyon
Yeah.
Joan Cameron
Well, you're just in time. She and Uncle Charles are going abroad. You know, sailing tonight.
George Dutton
Oh.
Brad Runyon
Who's Uncle Charles?
Joan Cameron
Lydia's guardian keeper to the keys to the Bradshaw exchequer.
Brad Runyon
That sounds important.
Joan Cameron
It is.
Brad Runyon
Oh, in the chips, huh?
Joan Cameron
Oh, no. He does have a pair of scissors to cut the coupons for Lydia, which, incidentally, is a full time job. And that concludes my dissertation on the Bradshaws. A morbid subject at best. Let's talk about you.
Brad Runyon
Sure, sweetheart. After we talk about a quick way I can get a hold of Uncle Charles.
George Dutton
I beg your pardon.
Joan Cameron
This friend is Uncle Charles.
Brad Runyon
Pretty quick. How do you do, Mr. Bellchar?
George Dutton
Ah, Mr. Runyon, isn't it? It is.
Joan Cameron
Now, if you'll excuse me.
George Dutton
Strange girl.
Brad Runyon
Now, Mr. Runyon, I've come on a peculiar errand. Miss Badger, when do you expect your niece Lydia to act? Oh, in an hour, perhaps 2.
George Dutton
5.
Brad Runyon
I wonder if she'd consider making a short visit to Melville Hospital. Melville? Good heavens. What for? A client of mine thinks he killed her last night.
George Dutton
Now, just a minute. What kind of nonsense is this?
Brad Runyon
I know it sounds crazy, but it isn't nonsense. His name's George Dutton and he's in the alcoholic ward. He fell off the wagon last night, but hard. He has seen your niece riding around her convertible. She impressed him. So instead of the usual pink elephants, he had some hallucination about taking a ride with her last night and killing her. We can't talk him out of it.
George Dutton
That's fantastic. What do you want Lydia to do about it?
Brad Runyon
Well, just Stop by the hospital and convince him he's wrong. That's all.
George Dutton
But don't you understand? We're sailing for Europe at midnight.
Brad Runyon
Now, look, this will only take her 10 minutes, and it may mean the man's sanity. Well, otherwise, he's liable to be running around to the police and the newspapers.
George Dutton
Well, I'll ask Lydia to drop by.
Brad Runyon
Good, then. Thanks. I'll be running along then. Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Bradshaw.
George Dutton
Well, what's the verdict? Run you. You think I'm nuts now, too, huh?
Brad Runyon
George, listen. Listen. Now, hold of yourself. This doesn't mean you're nuts. Could happen. Shut up.
George Dutton
Shut up. What was her name?
Brad Runyon
Lydia Bradshaw.
George Dutton
Bradshaw?
Brad Runyon
Yeah, and she's coming over here to see.
George Dutton
Now, listen, Runyon, you're working for me, see? You're not working for them. You're working.
Brad Runyon
Wait a minute, George.
George Dutton
You listen to me. I'm telling you, this happened. I was there. I wasn't in bed dreaming it. This dame is dead. Do you understand that?
Brad Runyon
Shut up over there.
George Dutton
I won't shut up. I'm telling you kids, you'll go off your rockers.
Brad Runyon
Now, look, Doc. Wait. Look, George, there's no use arguing about it. I talked to her uncle. The girl's coming here. That'll convince you, won't it?
George Dutton
She's not coming here because she's dead. She's dead. I held her with these two arms. I heard the gun go off. I felt her go limp in my.
Joan Cameron
Arms.
George Dutton
And my arms. Oh, no. No.
Joan Cameron
I'm sorry.
George Dutton
Who, George?
Brad Runyon
Dusty.
George Dutton
Right over there.
Joan Cameron
I'm Lydia Bradshaw.
Brad Runyon
Well, what about it, George?
George Dutton
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Joan Cameron
What do you mean? Mr. Duck.
George Dutton
Last night. Last night we were together. Don't you remember?
Joan Cameron
Why, no. Sorry, I don't. I don't remember ever seeing you before.
George Dutton
Go away. Go away.
Brad Runyon
Come on.
Joan Cameron
Isn't there anything I can do?
George Dutton
No.
Brad Runyon
You may as well go now.
Joan Cameron
But the poor man.
George Dutton
You heard what he said. Now, go on, get out of here. Get Out.
Joan Cameron
I'm terribly sorry.
Brad Runyon
Thanks very much, Ms. Bradshaw.
Joan Cameron
I do hope you'll be all right.
Brad Runyon
Yeah.
George Dutton
Good night.
Joan Cameron
Good night.
Brad Runyon
Well, George, is that the girl?
George Dutton
Yeah, that's the girl.
Brad Runyon
So that tied it up. I refunded him 50 bucks at the hundred he gave me, recommended a good psychiatrist and took off. It was after my dinner time, so I walked toward the East 50s and little Italian restaurant that makes wonderful lasagna. Suddenly I found myself looking across the street at a bar on the opposite corner with a blazing red rooster in neon lights. Of course, he could have dreamed this too. In his heyday, he probably knew every pub in town. But the business of the trash can opposite the entrance, which was right where I said it was, was pretty accurate dreaming, even for a professional dreamer like George. For this reason, I decided to sacrifice my dignity. I sidled up to the trash can and began probing around.
George Dutton
It.
Brad Runyon
Was there a slim volume in black Morocco with gold lettering on the COVID reading Skyward Poems and Praise of Death by Lydia Bradshaw. I kicked myself for refunding that 50 bucks. I stood for a minute in the glow of the Red Rooster sign and thumbed through the book of poems. Then I went into the bar. Yes, sir?
George Dutton
What do you have?
Brad Runyon
Make it a beer. Any special kind? Well, how about a tall, cool glass.
George Dutton
Of McCoy's Pale Ale?
Brad Runyon
That sounds like a commercial.
George Dutton
It is.
Brad Runyon
See the sign up there?
George Dutton
Don't let them fool your brother. Reach for the real McCoy.
Brad Runyon
Okay, I'm sold. Raw one. Right. I cropped my real McCoy and skimmed through Lydia's Ode to the Dark angel tossing a morocco bound book into a trash can. It seemed a strange thing for a girl to do until you read the poetry, whereupon it became clearly the only thing to do. It was so awful I gave up trying to read it and concentrated on the funnest piece which, as with all privately printed works, was a picture of the author. Looking at it now, it seemed to me as if I'd seen Lydia Bradshaw somewhere before. Somewhere before she'd walked into George's room at the hospital. But I couldn't put my finger on it. How about another real McCoy? No, no, wait a minute. Don't go away. Yeah? Were you here last night? Sure. Why? Here, take a look at this picture. You ever seen any? Who is she? Name's Lydia Bradshaw. Was she in here last night? I don't know.
George Dutton
Maybe, but I don't remember seeing her.
Brad Runyon
She came in with the Amphitheater bunch.
George Dutton
I wouldn't remember anyway.
Brad Runyon
Marvin here. Four deep at the bar.
Joan Cameron
Why, Fred?
Brad Runyon
Huh? Oh, excuse me. I got.
Joan Cameron
Wait a minute, Frank. What do you mean you don't know Lydia?
Brad Runyon
Well, I didn't say that, Ms. Cameron.
George Dutton
I just.
Brad Runyon
Well, I mean, I didn't say I don't know her.
George Dutton
I only said I wouldn't remember if.
Brad Runyon
She was in here during rush hour last night. Excuse me.
George Dutton
I got a customer waiting.
Joan Cameron
Customer, my foot. The liar. Oh, please. Don't think I'm dogging your footsteps, Mr. Runman.
Brad Runyon
How do you happen to come here always? Do you say he knows your cousin, Lydia Bradshaw?
Joan Cameron
He ought to. She owns the place. Tell me, did you steal that book from the library?
Brad Runyon
No, no. I picked it out of the trash can outside.
Joan Cameron
What?
Brad Runyon
Yeah, Scout's on her.
Joan Cameron
But it's the only one she has left. She'd died before. She throw it away.
Brad Runyon
How about afterwards?
Joan Cameron
What do you mean?
Brad Runyon
No, just skip it. Here, look at this inscription on the flyers. To Greg. Someday I'll find you. What does she mean by that?
Joan Cameron
Greg Stanhope. She used to think she was in love with him. Maybe she was, I don't know. But Uncle Charles decided and broke it up. A fatal mistake, I might add.
Brad Runyon
Why fatal?
Joan Cameron
They found Greg the next day with a champagne glass in one hand and a gun in the other. He'd shot himself.
Brad Runyon
Hello, George. Yeah, this is running.
George Dutton
What are you wasting time on me for? Run you and I'm nuts, you know.
Brad Runyon
Now shut up. George. Take it easy. Ask me a couple of questions. Do you know anybody named Stanhope?
George Dutton
Greg Stanhope?
Brad Runyon
Yeah.
George Dutton
No, I never heard of.
Brad Runyon
Uh.
George Dutton
Huh.
Brad Runyon
How did you happen to say Greg?
George Dutton
I don't know. It just popped into my head. Greg Stanhope. It goes together somehow. Greg. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I do know. Yeah, she was. She was talking about him last night. That's who she toasted when she raised her glass just before she.
Brad Runyon
Okay, okay. Now one more question, George. Did anyone see you leave the building last night?
George Dutton
Sure. The janitor.
Brad Runyon
Anyone else?
George Dutton
No.
Brad Runyon
Well, look, supposing it went like you said. Suppose someone picked you off the floor at the Bradshaw apartment and brought you home. Is there anyone who'd know exactly where to hang your clothes to straighten out the rest of your apartment besides you?
George Dutton
Sure, the janitor would. But he already told.
Brad Runyon
He's got a couple of sidelines. George, as a writer, this may come as a disappointment to you, but you aren't nuts.
George Dutton
Listen, Mr. Onion, get your foot out.
Brad Runyon
Of my daughter before. Take it easy, pal. I'm coming in.
George Dutton
I already told you all I know.
Brad Runyon
About George D. That I'm inclined to doubt. Now, sit down, pal. You've had a hard day pushing a broom and raking in cash.
George Dutton
The one I should call cop. There's a law against breaking into a guy's apartment.
Brad Runyon
There's also a law against criminal conspiracy.
George Dutton
I said I give it you this afternoon.
Joan Cameron
All of it.
George Dutton
Don't call me no criminal conspiracy because I'm janitor no criminal, see?
Brad Runyon
How much did Charles Bradshaw pay you to turn me? George wasn't out of his apartment last night.
George Dutton
I don't know nothing, I tell you. Now get out of here.
Brad Runyon
Now you come clean first. You saw George coming and going. You helped Bradshaw put him to bed last night.
George Dutton
No, I didn't. Honest, I didn't.
Brad Runyon
You better level with me, buster, before I knock.
George Dutton
Come near me.
Brad Runyon
Someone had fired through the window and nailed the janitor before I could make him talk. I rushed over, opened the window and hit the back alley in half a minute flat. But it was too late. The car roared off half a block away, and that was that. I walked back to where the killer must have stood trying to make sense out of nonsense. I'd run into my share of murders but this was the first time in my book that someone committed one to cover up another one someone else had confessed to. Now, if that sounds confusing, it's only because it was. A party was going on three floors up. It was nice to know someone was having a good time, because I wasn't. I leaned back against the wall and mopped my head. There had to be an answer somewhere and it was lucky I'd leaned back or I would have been brained. A bottle whistled down three floors and glanced off my shoulder and bounced into some soft rubbish in the alley. I picked it up, looked at the label and suddenly it hit me. It was an answer from out of the blue. Don't let them fool you, brother, it said. Reach for the real McCoy. I found a phone and called the hospital and left instructions for George. Then I hailed a cab and rushed over to Lydia Bradshaw's apartment. What time is it, Ms. Bradshaw? Yeah, yeah, Bradshaw.
Joan Cameron
It's almost 11. As I told you, Mr. Robert, Uncle Charles is extremely busy taking care of the baggage and won't have time to talk to you before we stay.
Brad Runyon
Yeah, sure, sure.
George Dutton
I know.
Brad Runyon
How come you forgot that trunk over there, Miss.
Joan Cameron
Bradshaw.
Brad Runyon
Bradshaw. I'm having a tough time with that name. What about that trunk?
Joan Cameron
It's full of his first editions for the vault while we're gone.
Brad Runyon
Now, let's see. Where was I?
Joan Cameron
Will you stop Reading that stupid book.
Brad Runyon
Stupid, stupid. Listen to this. Astride the cosmic threshold, I gaze back toward the old familiar lighted realm once more. Then resolute to turn my face the new way toward the wild, unlighted shore. Three guesses now. Byron Keats or Nick Kenny?
Joan Cameron
I don't know and I don't care.
Brad Runyon
You ought to know, baby. You wrote it.
Joan Cameron
What do you mean, Mr. Onion?
Brad Runyon
Poems in Praise of Death, by Lydia Bradshaw. This mean anything to you?
Joan Cameron
An empty beer bottle, isn't it?
Brad Runyon
Yeah. Someone almost brained me with it tonight. McCoy's Pale Ale. Don't let him fool you, brother. Reach for the real McCoy. Still don't remember.
Joan Cameron
Should I?
Brad Runyon
Yeah. Took me a while, but I did. I wondered why you looked familiar to me.
Joan Cameron
Me?
Brad Runyon
Yeah, you. Two girls, two pictures. One of these girls is Lydia Bradshaw, Park Avenue debutante. And the other is a professional model. Which one is the real McCoy? It was an ad in all the magazines three years ago.
Joan Cameron
You figured out which is which by now, I presume.
Brad Runyon
Yeah. Why did you play along with him?
Joan Cameron
Is there any harm in it?
Brad Runyon
Well, I can think of about six laws you're breaking. Not the least of which is criminal. Conspiracy.
Joan Cameron
Criminal? What are you.
George Dutton
Just a minute, Lydia. Stay where you are, both of you.
Joan Cameron
Well, my name's not Lydia. Let's stop the pretense.
Brad Runyon
Gonna make it a double header tonight, Uncle Charles. I may.
Joan Cameron
Double what?
Brad Runyon
Murder.
Joan Cameron
Murder?
Brad Runyon
What did you. Shut up.
Joan Cameron
Murder? I didn't know anything about this. All you said was she'd killed herself. And you wanted to avoid a scandal about suicide.
Brad Runyon
It was a scandal, all right, but not about suicide. Wasn't it, Uncle Charles?
Joan Cameron
But what was it?
Brad Runyon
When Lydia killed herself last night, it threw the whole estate into the hands of the executors. Opened the books to the accountants. How much had you embezzled, Uncle Charles? A couple hundred GS, maybe.
George Dutton
More than that, Runyon. But you're wrong on technicality.
Joan Cameron
It's not a scandal.
George Dutton
Not unless it gets out.
Joan Cameron
And it's not going to get out.
George Dutton
I killed once. They can't do any more to me. For two or three, you can.
Brad Runyon
You can't cover it that way, Bradshaw.
Joan Cameron
No. Watch me, Runyon.
Brad Runyon
Watch me.
George Dutton
Don't.
Joan Cameron
Mr. Bradshaw. No.
George Dutton
Hey, Runyon. Runyon. This is the place.
Brad Runyon
George, you're just in time.
Joan Cameron
You killed him.
Brad Runyon
No. But he's gonna have quite a headache. The McCoy company puts out a good bottle, too. Down. Put her on a sofa, George, while I call headquarters.
George Dutton
Lydia Bradshaw.
Brad Runyon
No. No. This is the reasonably accurate facsimile we'll find Lydia Bradshaw in that trunk over there.
George Dutton
Well, then I did kill her.
Brad Runyon
No. No, you didn't. She committed suicide. But her guardian didn't dare. Let it be known. Or he'd have been discovered as an embezzler.
George Dutton
What do you mean?
Brad Runyon
Skip it for now. I need a drink. How about you, Runyon?
George Dutton
If it's all the same to you, I'll take some sarsaparilla.
Brad Runyon
The Fat man, starring J. Scott Smart.
George Dutton
Was directed by Clark Andrews.
Brad Runyon
The script was written by Harold Swanton. Heard on tonight's show were Lyle Sudro as George Dutton.
George Dutton
And Gertrude Warner as Joan Cameron. The music was composed by Mark Winston.
Brad Runyon
Your announcer, Don Low. Listen next week to another exciting adventure of the Fat Man. G Note for murder.
George Dutton
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Brad Runyon
First to show up, first in line, then just waiting. Me, I rev up.
George Dutton
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Brad Runyon
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George Dutton
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Detailed Summary of "The Nightmare Murder"
Podcast Information:
The Nightmare Murder is a classic radio drama that immerses listeners in a suspenseful mystery involving deception, hallucinations, and hidden motives. Centered around the enigmatic character George Dutton and the inquisitive Brad Runyon, the episode masterfully blends dialogue and soundscapes to unravel a complex narrative that keeps the audience engaged from start to finish.
The story unfolds with George Dutton, a seemingly ordinary man who reaches out to Brad Runyon, claiming responsibility for a murder he allegedly committed. As Brad delves deeper into George's confession, he uncovers a tangled web of lies, deceit, and family secrets that challenge his perception of reality and truth.
George Dutton contacts Brad Runyon, asserting that he killed a woman named Lydia Bradshaw. Despite lacking concrete evidence, George's earnest plea compels Brad to investigate the veracity of his claim.
Brad visits George at Melville Hospital's alcoholic ward, where George recounts the events of the previous night. According to George, he encountered a stunning blonde woman who led him into a disoriented state, culminating in a gunshot.
Brad scrutinizes George's alibi by interviewing the janitor and bartender from his apartment building. Suspicious gaps in George's account, such as his presence in bed while he claimed to have been out, raise doubts about his sanity and the truthfulness of his confession.
Brad discovers that the black Buick convertible mentioned by George was registered to Lydia Bradshaw, a Park Avenue debutante. This connection deepens the mystery, suggesting a possible link between George and Lydia.
Key Points:
Notable Quote:
In a climactic confrontation at Lydia Bradshaw's apartment, Brad pieces together the truth: Lydia's death was a suicide orchestrated by her guardian, Uncle Charles, to cover up embezzlement. George's hallucinations and false confession were manipulated by family members to divert suspicion.
Key Points:
Notable Quote:
Brad successfully exposes Uncle Charles's illicit activities, clearing George's name and restoring equilibrium. The episode concludes with reflections on the complexities of human behavior and the lengths to which individuals will go to protect their interests.
George Dutton:
Brad Runyon:
Joan Cameron:
Uncle Charles:
George Dutton ([03:04]):
Brad Runyon ([08:36]):
Brad Runyon ([15:22]):
Brad Runyon ([26:19]):
Brad Runyon ([27:38]):
The Nightmare Murder intricately weaves a tale of suspicion, psychological turmoil, and familial deceit. Through the interplay of its characters and a carefully constructed plot, the episode highlights the peril of assumptions and the importance of diligent investigation. Brad Runyon's quest for truth not only exonerates George Dutton but also exposes the underlying greed that fueled the night's tragic events. This episode stands as a testament to the timeless appeal of classic radio dramas, offering listeners a captivating blend of suspense and revelation.