← Stars on Suspense (Old Time Radio)
Stars on Suspense (Old Time Radio)
Encore - Best of Comedians on "Suspense"
02:34:53
I won't be able to put together new episodes for the next two weeks, so I've decided to reach back into the "Stars on Suspense" archive and share some of my favorite "best of" collections. This week, it's a showcase of the comedians who showed a...
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Would you hand me that, please? Thank you. Now, let's see. Survey. Survive. Susanna. Suspect. Ah, here we are. Suspense. Meaning held in doubt, expressing doubt. The state of being uncertain, undecided or insecure. State of anxious expectation or waiting for information such as to keep one in suspense. Therefore delay acquainting him with what he is eager to know. Suspense. Hello and welcome to Stars on Suspense, a bonus episode where I'm sharing my favorite shows from radio's outstanding theater of thrills that cast comedians in the lead roles. One of the signature features of Suspense was that it would put big name stars in roles that clashed with their established screen Personas. This was especially true when men and women who usually played for laughs were plopped in the middle of mystery and murder. Some performers, like Jack Benny and Lucille Ball made multiple visits to the show. Others stepped into the shadows of suspense for just a single episode. The folks we'll hear today made only one or two visits to suspense. Those shows were all memorable as they showed these comedians displaying a different side of their talent, one that was just adept at delivering a fatal blow as it was at delivering a punchline. Up first today is Danny Kaye in the Too perfect alibi from January 13, 1949. The smiling song and dance man is deadly serious as a guy who plans to do away with his longtime rival and win the woman they both love to get away with murder. He constructs the tightest of alibis. But as events play out, the alibi may have been too perfect for his own good. Then we get two stars for the Price of One with Jim and Marion Jordan, better known to Old Time radio fans as Fibber McGee and Molly in Backseat Driver. The couple starred in two productions of this show. We'll hear the first from February 3rd, 1949. A husband and wife are returning home after an evening out on the town. But they're shocked to discover an escaped murderer is hiding in their car with a gun in his hand. He starts giving directions and the couple embarks on the longest drive of their lives. Bob Hope headlines our third show from May 5, 1949. It's Death has a Shadow. The quick witted genius ad libber appropriately plays a fair, fast talking lawyer who suddenly finds himself in a jam and he may not be able to talk his way out. He calls his old friend, a cop played by William Conrad, for help. And as Hope relates the story of how he wound up in this predicament, it ties back to the still unsolved murder of Hope's wife. In our fourth show, Milton Berle plays an actor who performs his greatest role, that of a murderer. In rave notice from October 12, 1950, Burl kills a critical director and then employs the Stanislavski method of acting to convince the police that he was insane when he pulled the trigger. And finally, Eve Arden leaves the classroom of our Miss Brooks and stars in the well Dressed Corpse from January 18, 1951. Miss Arden plays a woman who's been selected as one of the best dressed in America. She meets one of the men selected for the same category and they hit it off. She thinks she hears wedding bells ringing in the not too distant future, but he reveals he's already engaged to another woman. Since this is Suspense, you can probably guess that the news is not well received. Five very thrilling stories starring some very funny people. We'll kick things off with Danny K in the Too Perfect Alibi. And now, Autolite and its 60,000 dealers and service stations present Suspense. Tonight, AutoLight brings you Mr. Danny Kaye in the Too Perfect Alibi, a suspense play produced and directed by Antonio Friends. Auto Light Resistor spark plugs. The spark plugs with a built in resistor are fast becoming the most popular plugs in America. And no wonder. For when you replace your old narrow gap plugs with wide gap auto light resistor spark plugs, you can tell the difference in your car. Your engine will idle smoother. You'll have better luck with lean gas mixtures actually save gas dollars. What's more, thanks to this built in resistor, Auto light resistor spark plugs cut down spark plug interference with radio and television reception. And remember, friends only. Autolite offers car owners and truck owners everywhere the sensational advantages of resistor type spark plugs. So be right with Auto light Switch to Auto light. And now Autolight presents Danny K. In a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Prince Charming. That's what Jack called me. And when he said that, something clicked inside of me. I remembered how in fairy tales the good prince always married the princess and they lived happily ever after. Yes, happily ever after. Except that first there was the ogre. That had to be taken care of. They were spending the weekend at my house in Croton. Catherine and Jack, the girl I loved and the fellow she loved. Oh, I admitted I was stupid to let myself in for it. But I just couldn't help myself. I had to have Kathryn near me. She was the loveliest thing on God's earth. Slender and blonde, with flecks of the purest gold in her hair and eyes just as green as the sea. Jack was what the Girls call a beautiful hunk of man a one time football hero. But now he was a clerk in a sports shop. A nobody. And why Katherine was so mad about him, I'll never know. After dinner Saturday night, we sat out on the terrace and looked out on the Hudson a half mile away. Everything was quiet, peaceful. Jack, shall I tell him? After all, he is our best friend. Sure, honey. Might as well. Tell me. What? We're getting married Monday, Sam. Married? Hey, hey. I'm the one who should look like he's gonna face a firing squad, not you, Sam. Oh, I'm sorry, kids. It was just such a surprise, that's all. How about it, Sam? Will you be the best man? Sure. Of course I will. Good. And congratulations, both of you. Thank you, Sam, dear. You know, you're the sweetest, kindest, nicest, best hearted person I've ever known. She means outside of me, of course. Well, I do not, Jack Stewart. If it weren't for you, you big lug, I might even be marrying Sam on Monday. Hey, say, I just thought of something. You like my place up here in Croton? Don't you like it? We love it. Well, then it's yours. Wait a minute, Sam. I'm giving it to you for your wedding present. Oh, Sam. You always pick up the check, don't you? What do you mean, Jack? Everything you do makes me look cheap. You give Katherine a job and pay her twice what I make. You give us free theater parties, free dinners and free weekends in the country. Now you want to give us a free house. Now look, Jack, you've got me all wrong. I just want to give you kids a good start, that's all. I. I want you two to be happy. Just like in the fairy tales, eh? The prince and the paupers and good old Sam. As Prince Charming as always. Well, no thanks. That was when I got the idea. When he called me Prince Charming. That was when I remembered about the prince, the princess and the ogre. And you know what happens to the ogre in all the fairy tales, don't you? You remember that, don't you? He dies. And he dies because the prince kills him. Catherine left with Jack and I was miserable. I paced the floor for hours. All I could think of was that today was Saturday and on Monday noon she would marry him. Two more days and she'd be lost to me forever. I couldn't let it happen. I wouldn't. I had to get rid of him. What I needed was a weapon to defend myself with after I killed. An alibi, a strong unshakable alibi. A perfect alibi. It took me all night and gallons of coffee to figure that one out. But I did it. And the first thing Sunday morning I phoned Jack in New York. I persuaded him not to hang up on me. Well, what do you want, Jack? Ever hear of the Allegheny Sporting Goods? Did I ever hear of J.P. morgan? Well, a friend of mine owns Allegheny and he needs a sales manager. I haven't arranged an appointment for you. First thing tomorrow so you can get the job before you get married. What? It pays 20,000 a year and you can buy your own wedding presents. Are you serious? Does he know I'm only a clerk? Well, it's just a matter of selling yourself, Jack. If you're free tonight, I'll be glad to give you a few pointers on the best way to approach him. Look, look, Jack. I'm going to a party in town tonight and if you can meet me around 10, here's the address, Jack. 3000, 365 East 56. I'll wait for you near the corner. Okay, thanks. Just one thing, Sam. Don't tell Catherine about this, will you? You see, in case I get the job, I'd like her to feel I got it on my own. You understand, don't you? Sure. Of course, Jack. Oh, thanks, Sam. See you tonight at 10. My hands was shaking so hard I could barely reach up to wipe the perspiration from my forehead. I was scared stiff. I was frightened because I had intended to ask him to keep it a secret from Catherine. Instead, he'd asked me. Everything about my alibi was working out perfectly. I drove to town. I went to the State street ticket office and bought a ticket for the Staten Island Ferry. Then I went uptown to my apartment. I had lots of time, so I decided to treat myself. There was a nice, thick, juicy steak in the icebox and I fixed it just right and rare. As I sat at the table enjoying the steak that cut like butter, I got an idea. A good idea. Just the thing. Eventually, it was time to go to the party. Why, Sam Rogers, where you been keeping yourself all summer, you dog? Running is still on my mountain up in Croton. Hi, Sammy. Hi. I spoke to everyone I knew and a few people I didn't know. I made certain that practically everybody saw or talked with me sometime during the evening. Hello, Sam. Where are you rushing off to, Frank? Hey, want to hear the 9:00 news? Oh, oh, the news. Do you mind if I join you? Not at all. Come along. We listened to the news until 9:15. Then I got involved in an argument over Sir Ryan's new play. Of course he's mad, Sam. That's why he's so wonderful. Before I knew it, it was time. One minute to ten. I slowly smiled my way toward the door and edged my way out of the noisy crowd. Without anyone noticing, I walked casually through the open door. Once outside, I quickly walked away from the house toward the corner. I stopped under a tree where it was dark to wait for him. Ah. Well. Well, I was just in time. A car turned the corner. I stepped out the flag it and froze. It was a police squad car. Hey, why don't you watch where you're going? My face was drenched when I stepped back on the curb. For the first time, I realized how easy it would be to make a slip. This time I made sure it was Jack's car before I stepped out. Park here, Jack, under the tree, huh? Okay. Sorry I'm late, Sam. The ferries were jammed. And on top of that, I had an argument with Katherine. Oh, what about? Oh, the usual, you know. First she brought up your house again. Then she was jealous about some girl I kidded with on the beach this afternoon. Didn't mean anything. But you know Catherine. We practically had a slugging match in the restaurant. She'll be over it by morning. Which reminds me, Sam, I'm awfully sorry about the way I blew my top last night. Oh, that's all right. You're. You're still gonna be my best man at the wedding, aren't you? Oh, sure, Jack. I'll be your best man. That's one wonderful. Catherine was right, Sam. You are the nicest, sweetest guy we've ever known. Oh, forget it, Jack. Now, suppose we sit in the back seat of your car and talk about your new job. Okay. Get in. Okay. And do you know that was the last word he ever said. Okay. There he was, lying in the back of his car and sticking up out of the middle of his back was my favorite steak knife. For suspense, Autolyte is bringing you Mr. Danny Kaye in radio's Outstanding Theater of Thrills. Suspense. Say, yeah, Let me read you a wonderful Christmas thank you note I got from my Aunt Susie in Maine. Why, I didn't even know you had an aunt. Susie Harlow. Well, you just listen to this, pal. Dear Barlow, she never could get my name straight. Thank you so much for those wonderful autolite resistor spark plugs you sent me for Christmas. Oh, no, you didn't. Listen now, Hap, she says, cousin Charlie, he's your third cousin. Once removed on your mother's side. You know told me that Auto light resistor spark plugs are those popular new spark plugs that have a built in resistor. And he said they have an extra wide garc Spap. What? She means spark gap. Of course. That helps make your car run slick as a kitten on skis. I see where you inherit your famous figures of speech, Harlow. Let's see. So cousin Charlie replaced my old narrow gap plugs with my new Wide gap auto light resistor spark plugs. And right away I could see what makes people rave about them so much. I declare my car idle. Smooth as silk. Runs better than a scared jackrabbit with a tailwind. And honestly Barlow, I've been saving gas. Wow. Susie's got me woozy. So friends, when it comes to spark plugs, be smart, be choosy, take your cue from Susie and mosey on down to your nearest auto light dealer tomorrow and get your car a brand new set of those Wide gap auto light resistor spark plugs. Remember, you're always right with Auto light. You said it, Harlow. And lets get back to suspense. And now Autolight brings back to our Hollywood soundstage. Mr. Danny K as Sam in a too perfect alibi. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. After I stabbed him, I watched him slump to the floor of the car. And that's all there was to it. The ogre was dead. And now the prince and the princess could live happily ever after. I pushed his feet into the car and slammed the door. I locked the car with the keys I found in the condition and put them in my pocket. Then I eased myself back into the house. I picked up the thread of conversation just as if it had never been broken. That's the name of the game, kid. Gin. You never should have held onto those two kings, Johnny boy. Okay son, suppose you stop Gibbon and play this card sharkish. He's got those things hypnotized. Well, just step to one side, John, and I'll show you a few tricks an old yogi named Ganga Jin once taught me. I played gin all evening with Frank Bostwick. And though I never did like him very much, somehow I felt warm and friendly towards him. Now then, around 12ish, the party broke up. I waited till practically luckily everybody else left. Then I bid my host good night, got into Jack's car and drove off. I got to the Staten island ferry slip just before 12:30. I was lucky. Traffic was still heavy. Nobody would notice me. I took out the ticket I bought in the afternoon and drove aboard. A moment later, we started across the bay. I could breathe again. I checked off another point in my alibi. If they ever faced me with a night shift ticket agent, he would have to swear he'd never seen me or sold me a ticket in his life. It was so easy. I felt like laughing. I turned and looked at him lying on the floor in the back. He wasn't fighting me anymore. My alibi had him beaten all the way down the line. Suddenly, two things happened to me at once. I saw the knife. The knife sticking out of his back. The ticket collector. I'd forgotten about him, too. I couldn't afford to have anyone remember me on this boat. And I had to get rid of that knife. I had to act fast, in spite of the sick feeling in my stomach. I leaned over the seat and yanked the knife out of Jack's back. His head jerked around and grinned up at me. I looked around for a piece of paper to wrap the knife in. There wasn't a scrap anywhere. Anywhere. I pulled out my wallet, grabbed two or three bills and covered the blood dripping blade in the bills. I got out of the car, jammed my tickets under the windshield wiper where he had to see it. Tickets. Tickets. And I scrambled through a maze of bumpers and fenders till I reached the rail. My heart sounded like a bass drum. I leaned on the rail and looked into the black water. Then I dropped the knife over the side. Hey, I saw you do that. What? What did you. Don't you know it's against the law? What is it? Dumping paper into the harbor. You could get arrested for that, mister. You better watch your step or something. Oh, thank you. I kept my head turned away from him so he couldn't get a good look at me. He'd never recognize me in a court of law. No, sir. Anyway, he. He'd forget all about me five minutes from now. My alibi was still 100%. I got back into the car when we landed. I drove a few blocks inland. I left the car in front of a house and walked back to the ferry. By the time I got home an hour later, I lost all my fears. I felt wonderful again. I went right to bed and slept soundly for the first time in weeks. I slept so soundly, in fact, that they stood there ringing my bell for five solid minutes before they woke me up. I opened my door and saw two detectives standing there with an invitation to visit Inspector Vanelli of the New York Homicide Bureau. Then I remembered about last night. Inspector Vanelli was a Slender, swarthy man who looked more like a successful businessman than a police officer. You know Jack P. Stewart, Mr. Rogers? Certainly. Why, he's been murdered. His body was found at 9 o'clock this morning in a parked car on Staten Island. What? I can't believe it. This was his wedding day. He and Catherine were going to be married. Mr. Rogers, what was your relationship with Katherine Gilpin? Inspector, I think I ought to tell you right off that I'm probably your best suspect. You are? Yes. Katherine turned me down for Jack. That probably gives me the best motive in the world for killing him, doesn't it? Well, supposing you let me decide who had the best motive. Okay, Mr. Rogers. Okay. All right. Now, the best place to begin is at the beginning. He kept me there hour after hour while the police stenographers crammed their pads with notes. Finally, late in the afternoon, one of the detectives hurried in and whispered something to him. Inspector Vinelli's hard face broke into a rocky smile. Okay, Mr. Rogers, you're clear. But I don't mind telling you now I was sure it was you. Really, Inspector, why have you changed your mind? Well, we have 35 affidavits from responsible people swearing that you were at a party between 9:30 and 11:30 last night. And that's when Stuart was murdered. That settles it. You've got a perfect alibi I could hardly believe had been so easy. Only yesterday, the girl I loved was miles away from me, unattainable. Today she was mine for the asking. No more rivals, no more competition. Gradually, she would forget Jack and turn to me. It would take time, I knew that, but I had plenty of time. I could wait. Katherine phoned me the next morning and suddenly I didn't have any time at all. Sam. Sam. They've arrested me for Jack's murder. They've what? They've arrested me. But they can't. It's just a stupid mistake. Catherine. Look, I'll call my lawyer and we'll get you out of there right away. But we couldn't in New York. You can't bail out a person accused of murder. What could they possibly have on her? It was ridiculous, but the thought of Catherine in prison was pure torture for me. My attorney suggested I retain Simon Blade, the shrewdest criminal lawyer in the state. Blade investigated every detail of Katherine's story. Finally, after two of the longest weeks of my life, he called me in. All right. Now here's the district attorney's case, Mr. Rogers. She and her boyfriend had an argument in a Public place, A restaurant. They argued about two things. One, she wanted to take your country house for a wedding present, but he didn't. Two, he made a little goo goo eyes at some blonde on the beach and she burned up. She tells him he's cheating on her, so then he burns up. He tells her to go marry somebody else and walks out. Yes, yes, but how do the police know all this? They have witnesses, Mr. Rogers. Witnesses. Now, she says that after the fight she went home alone and cried on her bed. But the DA Says she ran after the boy, rode out into the country with him and stuck a knife in him for calling off the wedding. Her words as good as his, isn't it? Certainly, certainly. And she's prettier than the DA too, But. Well, I'm not finished. It seems that the management of the restaurant bought two dozen new steak knives that week. Steak knives? Yes. The girl and the boy had steak for dinner, and the next morning, one of the new knives was missing. The police took a sample knife down to the morgue, and it makes a perfect fit with the stab wounds in the cadaver's back. Now all we have is her word that she didn't do it. And there's only one person in the world who can prove that she's telling the truth. Who? A corpse with three holes in it. On the day of the trial, I sat with Simon Blade and waited for them to bring Katherine in. And when she came, she looked so young and so. So lost. I had all I could do to keep myself from jumping to my feet and telling them the truth. Then she saw me. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. And I smiled back. And somehow I felt sure it would all come out right, just as I had planned it. Simon Blade was wonderful in that courtroom. One moment ringing sympathy from the jury for Catherine's pale face, the next, frankly exploiting her sex with a knowing eye. And when he strutted before a terrified witness, his barbs always hit the bull's eye. And how did you know, sir, that the knife was missing from your restaurant? We counted. We counted them and found one was missing. You count your silver? Yes, sir. What's the matter, Demos? Don't you trust your customer? Blade forced Demos to admit that customers walked off with knives, forks and spoons every day. That several persons had steak that night, and that anyone might have taken that knife. Everything was going along fine. And then the district attorney exploded a surprise in our laps. Do you recognize this handkerchief, Miss Gilpin? Yes, sir. It's mine. It's yours. And Would you please tell the jury what made these stains on your handkerchief? Why, blood. They're blood stains. But you must think. Whose blood? Jack's. It's Jack's blood. But I'm not guilty. Order. Order in the court. Are there any more such disturbances? I shall order the courtroom cleared. Proceed, Councillor. So, Ms. Gilpin, you admit this is the blood of Jack Stewart? Yes, He. He had a nosebleed. He always had them. When he was excited, I loaned him a handkerchief. A very convenient explanation. Shall I tell you, Ms. Gilpin, what I think the real explanation is? I think you stabbed Jack Stewart. Then in your jealous rage, you struck again and again. Then calmer. You noticed that your hands were covered with blood. His blood. No. You wiped them on the handkerchief. This handkerchief, Miss Gilpin? No. And went to dispose of the body. Oh, the D.A. was very convincing. And the jury thought so too. Because when they came in after 11 hours, they found Catherine guilty of murder in the first degree. We appealed the case and lost. I pulled every string I could to get a commutation from the governor. It was hopeless. I had to face it. Finally, I had killed Jack so I could have Catherine. But I couldn't have her now. And I didn't want to go on without her. I went to the DA and told him everything. Mr. Rogers, are you trying to tell me that you killed Stuart to keep him from marrying Miss Gilbert? That's right. That's right. Since I can't have her, I might as well confess. Will you arrange to have her released? Look, Rogers, I know exactly what you're trying to do. But I've got no time for heroes. I've got 35 sworn affidavits in my files which prove that you couldn't have killed Stewart. I've got my conviction, and so far as I'm concerned, this case is closed. He wouldn't believe me. And Catherine's execution was only a week off. I went to the newspapers with my story, but they wouldn't believe me either. One of them did send a reporter with me to see the people who were at the party that night. Sam, it's wonderful what you're trying to do. But I can't lie about it and I won't. That was the kind of answer I get everywhere I turn. Then I try to find the two policemen who passed as I left the house and the man who had seen me throw the knife off the ferry. But it was useless. I couldn't find one person who would believe me. Not one. The next day, I made a last attempt to see Katherine. They wouldn't let me. But late that afternoon I received a note from her. It was heartbreakingly full of all the things we planned now would never do. And what hurt me most was the part where she said. I heard all about it, Sam, and I love you for it. I love you for your foolhardy attempt to save my life at the expense of your own. Jack once called you Prince Charming, but he never dreamed what a prince you really are. Even she. Prince Charming. Even Catherine wouldn't believe me. And that was harder to take than all the rest. And you don't believe me either, do you, friend? Well, Mr. Rogers is very hard to sh. Listen, it's 12:00 all over again, isn't it Joe? Why don't you go home like a good fellow, Mr. Rogers? I can't sleep, Joe. I just. Just can't sleep. How can I sleep when nobody will believe me? Joe, why do the innocents always suffer in this world? Catherine was innocent. Why did she have to suffer? You got it all wrong, Mr. Rogers. The innocents don't suffer, but the guilty. Ah, they're the ones. Take you for instance. Supposing you really was guilty of Jack Stewart's murder. And supposing she paid for your crime. Why you'd have two lives on your conscience this very minute, Mr. Rogers. And then you'd have been suffering for those two lives ever since the. The night she went. Yes, you're right, Joe. You're right. It is the guilty who suffer. Say Joe, how about that fella? Him? He's been coming here these 10 years now telling the same story to anybody who listened. Ten years? Sure. And where do you suppose he's gone now? Another bar, most likely to pick up a conversation with somebody else like you and. And live through it all over again. But about what he said. Do you really think he killed him? M. Mr. Rogers? Him? Not on your life. Why he's a prince of a guy. Thank you Danny K. For a splendid performance. Mr. K. Will return in just a moment. Hello, your Aunt Susie. Must be mighty cold up in Maine this time of year. Cold? Why up main way it's so cold they use icicles for andirons. And do those wonderful autolite resistor spark plugs feel the frigid finger of freezing temperatures. Not on your life. Because. Because Auto light resistor spark plugs consistently give you smooth, dependable on the spot performance. And remember friends, only Auto light offers car and truck owners everywhere the sensational advantages of resistor type spark plugs. So with Millions of car owners switching to Autolite. Why don't you? Because you are always right with Autolite. And remember, Autolite means spark plugs ignition engineered resistor spark plugs. Autolite means batteries. D A full batteries. Autolyte means ignition system. The lifeline of your car. And now here again is Mr. Danny K. Thank you very much. I feel a little better now. Anyway, it's been a great pleasure for me to be here on Suspense, ladies and gentlemen. And I'm especially grateful to Tony Leader for letting me play the kind of role which you. You and I don't usually associate with me. It was a lot of fun. If you can call being a murderer fun. Well, next week Radio's outstanding Theater of Thrills will bring you Dana Andrews in a famous story by Cornell Woolrich. If the Dead Could Talk. Another gripping study in suspense. Danny Kaye will shortly be seen in the Warner Bros. Technicolor production. Happy Times. Tonight's suspense play was written by Martin Stern with music composed by Lucian Morowek and conducted by Lud Gluskin. The entire production was under the direction of Antonem Leiter. In the coming weeks, Suspense will present such stars as Robert Montgomery, Fibber McGee and Molly, Ronald Coleman, Jane Wyman and James Mason. Make it a point to listen each Thursday to Suspense Radio's Outstanding Theater of Thrills. And next Thursday, same time, hear Dana Andrews in Cornell Woolrich's if the Dead Could Talk. Remember, you're right with Auto Light. So switch to Auto Light. Good night. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. And now Autolite and its 60,000 dealers and service stations present Suspense Tonight. Autolight brings you Fibbermagee and Molly in Backseat Driver, a suspense play produced and directed by Antonio Leader. Say, Harlow, looks like Old Home we con suspense tonight. Old Home we camp. Well, I wouldn't say that. Not with millions of auto light resistor spark plugs finding new homes in every make of car in America. I know, Harlow. I. I meant Old Home week. Because Ihap there just isn't going to be any old or new home for more and more narrow gap spark plugs. Because they're being replaced in their old homes by wide gap auto light resistor spark plugs. With auto light resistor spark plugs. Your car, my car fibbers car. Everybody's car idle smoother. Gives better performance with lean gas mixtures. Saves gas dollars and cuts down spark plug interference with radio and television reception. There's one way for every car to be spark plugged. Right. With auto light resistor spark plugs only Auto Light offers car and truck owners everywhere the sensational advantages of the resistor type spark plug. And now Autolight presents Fibbermagee and Molly in a tale well calculated to keep you in suspend. It can't happen to you. You read about stuff like that in the papers. Girls murdered, mutilated drunks left dying in the gutter for the handful of change they had in their pockets. Lonesome old men tortured because some hoodlum gets the idea they're misers with a pot of gold hidden under the floorboards of the shack. Sure, you know it's real, but it can't happen to you. Oh, you get your fair share of trouble. I've been a professional man here in Los Angeles for 30 years. I've met up with bums and grifters and petty sharpers. They're around in any business. But the viciousness, the real deep down dirt, that's for somebody else. You do your work and go home to your family. And for a real bang up evening to break the monotony, you take your wife out to a movie. That's what I did that Saturday night. We'd driven all the way in from the San Fernando Valley to Beverly Hills for a picture Ellie especially wanted to see. Wasn't that a good movie, Joe? Uh huh. Just the kind I like. Songs and dancing and girls and pretty. I get so tired of cops and robbers. What's wrong with cops and robbers? Oh, you know what I mean. Murder movies. Honestly. All the policemen stupid. And all the crooks sneering out of the corners of their mouths. Yeah, the stuff those Hollywood boys dream up. You'd think the streets were knee deep in blood and you couldn't hear yourself think for machine guns. Yeah. Well, here we are, honey. You get in first, okay? All right, Ellie. Well now, just a second. All right, Joe. Don't forget the gas. I got plenty to take us out to the Valley. I'll fill up at Bills. You remember how that song goes, Joe? What song? In the picture. You know, two on the moon. The one the boy sang to the girl. Oh, that one. Let's see. Ah, heck, I don't know. Oh, well, we'll be hearing it again on the radio. How about turning it on the radio? Yeah, sure. Set her around 1100. We ought to get some news in a few minutes. I'd like to hear whether they caught that fellow, that awful mass murderer. Uh huh. They spotted him in LA this afternoon, but he got away. I know, you told us at supper. It makes you shiver. Don't worry, he won't get away with it. We left the lights of Beverly Hills behind and turned the into Coldwater Canyon. It's as quick a way as any to get us across the Hollywood Hills to the valley. It's dark in the canyon, quiet, with mighty little traffic at night. I cut my lights up full and we swept up the side of the ridge. News program came on, but I didn't pay much attention. Fellow was talking about brush fires. They'd already put out one near my place, though they were still patrolling it. We were over the ridge and sliding down to the valley before the program got to the part I wanted to hear. There it is. Pick it up higher, Ellie. And now the latest news on the New Hampshire murderer. Two weeks ago, Lewis Mattrick wiped out an entire family in Greenlee, New Hampshire. Today he was spotted 3,000 miles from the scene of his crime. At 5:30 this afternoon, a patrolman saw and definitely identified Matrick in downtown Los Angeles. However, by darting through heavy traffic at the risk of his life, the killer was again able to make his escape. According to neighbors of the slaughtered family, Mattrick first appeared in Greenlee about a year ago. From fingerprints in the Noland home, Lewis Mattrick has been identified as Lloyd Matthews, ex convict. He is wanted for questioning in the robbery and murder of a New York storekeeper a year ago, a crime that netted the killer less than 20. Can you imagine? Matric or Matthews is 32 years old, height 5ft 9 inches, weight 155 pounds. He has blue eyes, light brown hair, nose slanted to the left. When seen this afternoon, he was wearing a blue suit and a gray pork pie hat. He awful. Awful. Not pretty. No. And he's somewhere around LA this minute. Joe, you think it's right, us leaving Annie and Bud all alone while we. No, Ellen. Annie's grown up. And Bud's a smart youngster, if I do say so myself. You can't wrap kids in cotton wool. I know. Oh, I'm silly, I guess. Neighbors close all around. All they'd have to do is yell. But what would make a young man do a dreadful thing like that? Could be a lot of things. Maybe he's got a screw loose. Maybe he went nuts over a girl. Maybe he gets a kick out of killing, like some of you. I know all the answers, don't you? Hey, what the. Keep going. Go on. Keep going. I got a gun here and I'll use it. Tell him. You. Ellie. Against the back of my neck, I can feel it cold. Well, are you gonna move? Okay. Okay, brother. You're the boss. You said it. I'm boss. And remember it. Otherwise I'll blow a hole through your wife's head. I've had experience in these things. For suspense, Autolight is bringing you fibber McGee and Molly in radio's outstanding, Outstanding Theater of Thrills Suspense. Harlow, I've got to run. My wife Mary just called up and said someone stole our Autolite resistor spark plugs right out of the engine of our car. Gosh, Hap, I didn't know they were that precious. Skip along so long. Oh, that Mary. What a girl. She's wonderful. I said to Hap the other day. She she's got everything an auto light resistor spark plug's got. Hap comes right back and says to me, has she got a 10,000 ohm resistor? Does she save me gas and money, Harlow? And then right away he says, tell me this, does Mary improve radio and television reception? Well, by Cornelius, I couldn't stand it any longer. What's Mary got to do with that? I cried. Nothing. Shouts the triumphant Hap. Right. I shout back. But by Cornelius, those sleek, slim, trim, smart, swift starting auto light resistor spark plugs have. When it comes to plugs, even mine, there's no plug as good as a set of auto light resistor spark plugs. And those wonderful wonders are made by the Autolite Company, the marvelous makers of spark plugs, batteries, complete ignition Systems, and over 400 automotive, aviation and marine parts. And now Autolight brings back to our Hollywood soundstage, fibbermagee and mully in backseat driver a tale well calculated to keep you in suspend. I drove that car like we were skirting the rim of the Grand Canyon, with nothing between us on the bottom but a mile of country air. This was it, the thing that happens to other people, to the ones that end up on slabs in the morgue. But not to me. Not to Ellie. First car we'd seen since we left. Traffic swooped down behind us. It passed, but not before the headlights caught our passenger clean in my rearview mirror. He was hunched forward, sitting on the edge of the back seat so he could keep the gun rammed into the nap of Ellie's neck. He had light brown hair, pale eyes, and a nose that slanted. His mouth twitched jittery as the car went by. His eyes caught mine in the mirror and flickered. Keep your eyes on the road. Sure, sure. Lose your hat, bright boy. Like I said, you know all the answers. No, I didn't lose it. I stuffed it down a drain. Still wearing the blue suit, though I figured it changed pretty quick now. Think yours will fit me? You can have the suit and the car. Just let it. Oh, Helen. Joe, it's Matric. The missus is bright too. He crawled in here while we were in the movie. Joe, you should have had the car door fixed. You know better, honey. I meant to. I was going to tend to that tomorrow. Shut up. Let's see if you can both be bright enough to keep your trap shut. Turn left on Ventura. Take the slow lane and don't try playing no tricks. I've been in this burg before. Okay by me. That's real white of you. Straight out to open country, Mac. Then I'll take the missus up on that offer of the suit and car. What happens to us? Why, you just walk home. What else? Play it safe and you ain't got a thing to worry about. That was a laugh. That was nothing to worry about. That'd kill you. Once we got out into open country, we'd have a chance of walking away from the car. All a murderer can hope for is time. He doesn't leave witnesses around to get the law on his tail one second sooner than necessary. All I could do was stall and pray and make what feeble gestures I could at Lady Luck. The thing that came into my mind was so risky it brought my hair up on end. But there was a chance, provided that trigger finger didn't start jerking in the bright lights of the boulevard. I didn't think he'd notice, but a traffic officer would. I turned into Ventura and took the far lane obedient as a whipped pup. Must have made two or three miles before I heard what I was hoping for. What's that? Huh? Oh, the siren. Why, an ambulance? I guess we hear a lot of that. Ain't no ambulance. It's a motorcycle cop. Joe, it's young Mike Kennedy. He patrols this stretch. What are you up to? What are you trying to pull? Nothing. The kid's a friend of mine. Think you can get me easier? Well, I warned you. I ain't going alone. You asked for. Listen. Listen, will you? The kid lives near us. Practically grew up under our feet. All he wants is to pass the time of day or maybe send a message to our Annie. Yeah, yeah. You start popping now and we'll all be dead. Keep your shirt on and I'll get rid of him. Okay. But it better be good. I pulled to the curb and Mike come up alongside. He sat balancing the bike between his knees and the grin on his face was a mile wide. It had worked at least we were still alive and Mike wasn't two feet away. But where did we go from here? I had to think. But my brain was wet wool. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Well, what do you know? If it isn't Uncle Joe. Something funny? After all the times you've read us the riot act about observing the letter of the law. Oh, brother. Wait till I tell Annie. Mike Kennedy, what's the matter with you? I didn't notice anything wrong. Hi, Aunt Ellie. Nothing much the matter. Just Uncle Joe here proceeding sedately out the boulevard with his headlights up full. Headlights, my golly, that's right. I must have forgotten it, didn't I? You oughtn't to forget those things, Joe. Someday a big, bad cop might come along and haul you off to the state. Hey, is that Annie back there? No, no, it. It isn't. It's. It's our new neighbor, Mike. Mr. Anderson, that right. Glad to meet you, sir. Hello. I didn't know there were any vacancies out our way. Well, there weren't until recently. Mr. Anderson has taken over the. The Charles place. The Charles place? Are you kidding? No. Looks like things got too much for old man Charles. At last he's clearing out for good. Kind of sudden, wasn't it? I guess so. Well, that's too bad for old man Charles. I mean, mighty nice for Mr. Anderson, though. Good places are hard to find these days. All right, Uncle Joe. I'll let you off this time. Give my love to Annie. Mike. Watch it. Yes, sir. Nothing. Just come see us soon, boy. Always glad to have you. Thanks. I'll be around My next night off, I got a date with Annie. So long. That was that. Mike turned his bike and headed back down the boulevard. The chance had come and gone, but it felt to me like half my mind went off with the boy yelling at him. Must have been half a minute before I could pull myself together, knees back into. Nobody said anything. I didn't dare to, and neither did Ellie. I couldn't see her, but I could feel her holding herself stiff as a ramrod, scared even to turn her head. When two people have lived together as long as we have, each one knows what the other one is thinking. I went back to driving and praying. That and cutting my eyes up to the mirror just in case there might be a white motorcycle eye following us. There wasn't, of course. Back in the back, I knew he was watching, too. Those flickering eyes darting like lightning between us and the rear window. He was too busy checking to talk. Not that. That helped much. Rage and fear were pouring out of him so thick you could have grabbed a hunk of the atmosphere in your hand. It was queer to drive along like that on the crowded highway. Traffic streaming both ways. Lights from drugstores and cocktail joints and eating houses blazing to the sky. And to know if I lifted a finger for help, I'd sign our death warrants. It had to be luck, all luck. There was still a chance I'd get it. The way I figured it, we'd started out with just about enough gas to get us back to Bill Station. When we hit that, the meter ought to show. Empty gas gauge was hidden from me by the rim of the steering wheel. But I was pretty sure I was right. I waited until I saw the red and green lights above Bill's pumps a block and a half away. Then, very slow and easy, I slumped over for a peek at the gauge. I leaned just too far. Shut up. Sure. What now? What were you looking at? I was just easing the crick out of my neck. Yes, you was. You was looking at the dash, you. Oh. So that's it. Fresh out of gas. Look, I just remembered. Don't you me that. You know it all along. From now on, you keep your hands on the wheel, Mac, but leave me do the driving. Turn into that filling station, get high test gas and fill her up. Hi, Joe. Hi, Bill. Evening, Ellie. Hello, Bill. Oh, evening, sir. Up to the top? Yeah. Ethel. Ethel, it is here. You've been to the pictures, eh? I, uh. Huh. You people know everybody in the whole valley. We've lived here 30 years from back when this was just farmland. Course we know lots of people. I don't like it. Get the gas and get out. See, I was up to Mirandy's for supper. That right? Oh, boy. Her chili gets better every time. Don't see how it can, but it does. She's saving some for you. Said you'd be around after the show. Oh, my. I saw Miranda this afternoon and told her we'd be by for sure. Joan, that'll be $3.50 on the nose. Three and fifty. Thanks, Bill. Yep. Shamed you. What was all that about? Nothing much. Come on. Come on. I got to ask you everything twice. Miranda runs a drive in up the road a ways. On show nights, we usually drop in for a carton of chili to take home. I just hope she won't call home when we don't show up and get Annie all worried. Wait a minute. Drive in, you said? Yeah. And this Miranda could start checking on You. I didn't mean it like that. She could call your Annie, and between the two of them, they'd have the cops on the lookout for you before midnight. You're crazy. Like a fox. I ain't kept ahead of the buttons all this time by taking chances. We'll just pick up that chili Mac. You want to go to Miranda's? Why not leave Annie get her beauty sleep? I can cover a lot of ground before tomorrow morning. I ain't eaten so good lately. I could use the food, too. And with you and the missus to front for me, what's to worry about? He was right about that. I went back to driving and praying. Miranda's place is one of those goldfish bowls, mostly glass, with light pouring out across the space marked for outside service. She saw us pulling up, grabbed a quart carton off the back shelf and hustled to the door. Here you are, Ellie. I was just saying to Betsy, better fix up that chilly. Betsy. It's about time. Ellie and Joe showing up. Figuring the distance from Beverly Hills. Thank you, Miranda. Who's that in the backseat? I don't seem to recollect your face, young man. Though anybody will tell you I never forget a face. Well, this is Mr. Anderson, Miranda. He just came out here from the. From the east. How is that effect? Say, Joe, you planning to go straight up Ventura home? Sure. Why? Well, don't you do it. Go the back way. Even if it does take longer. Of course, the brush fire between here and your place is out, but there are still 50, 60 men patrolling it. What's that? Oh, but that ain't nothing to what's going on further out the valley. That new fire's clean out of control, licking up hundreds of acres. Well, they've been sending truckloads of firefighters past here all evening. And the road's blocked for miles. The road's blocked for miles, they tell me. And all them poor ranchers losing their homes being from the east. You wouldn't understand. But brush fires is awful things. Once they get out. Thanks. Start moving. We take the back way to your house, to our house. What say? Oh, you staying with Ellie and Joe? Yeah, until the roads. Until I can get into my own place. What are we waiting for? Night, Miranda. Well, goodbye. Be sure you come see me, Mr. Anderson. I'll be looking for you. So there it was. We weren't going to the country. We weren't going to be left to rot at the foot of a cliff or buried deep in brush. No, we were going home. Home to the Kids taking a murderer with us. I still couldn't see Ellie, but I could feel her tensing up tight as a pulled drawstring. Mr. Mattrick, you. You didn't mean what you said, did you? About coming home with us? You know a better place? I can hide out till the road's open. But it wouldn't be safe. We've got neighbors close all around. If somebody sees you. Nobody will see me. Nobody. Better. Joe, couldn't we get around the fire? Yeah, that'd be better. We could try. There are other roads through the valley. Listen, Mattrick, we'll nose around and find a way through somehow. Cut it out. You heard the old pity. Hundreds of acres burning, firefighters, cops. Get off the highway. We're going home. No. No, I won't have it. Joe, you stop the car right here. Shut up. You heard me, Joe. I won't have him in my house, not with Annie. And I said shut up. Lord's sake, Ellie, it doesn't matter about us, but the kids are. I won't let him. One word out of you. Stop. Alan, hush. Don't say another thing. I'm sorry, honey. Mattrick's the boss. We got to do like he says. That's telling her. Sure. Do like I say and everything will be rosy. You got no call to worry about the kids. I like kids as long as nobody gives me the brush off. We'll. We'll wake him up soon as we get home. And you and this Annie can fix up a chili supper for us. We'll have us a picnic then. Soon as the fire's out, we'll all take a trip to the country. Another picnic, huh? You keep going. As long as you're breathing, you keep going. Even when it looks like there's no way out. You hang on by your toenails. We poked up and down those black valley streets that twist and turn and sometimes wind up in dead ends. Ellie stopped crying after a while. She slumped down with her head rolling on the seat back, limp as a rag doll with the stuffing leaked out. It took a long time, but it had to come to an end. I saw the bulk of the house looming up. There was light sneaking around the edges of the blinds up in Annie's room. She wasn't asleep after all. She'd be sitting up in bed, maybe plastering red stuff on her fingers and dreaming about the date with Mike. Bud's room was dark. He'd be wrapped in covers, like in a cocoon, and dreaming whatever boy's dream I couldn't remember. I Pulled up to the concrete walk. I'd poured with my own hands before there was any Annie or Bud and I cut the lights in a second or two. My eyes got used to the dark. I could make out the high hedge Ellie planted around the place and the roof rising up beyond it. Out, missus, face the house. Now you, Max, slide out the same side, stand beside her, walk to the door slow and no funny business. I'm right behind you. Hold them, boys. It's okay, Mike. Got him. You all right, Uncle Joe? Aunt Ellie. Ellie. Ellie, honey, you all right? All right indeed. Smack flat on my face on a concrete walk and you falling on me. Nothing wrong with her. That's my girl. Well, don't you stand there. Help me up. Here you are. Oh, I've got to get in the house before the kids come busting out here. I won't have them mixed up in this. Well, how's he doing, boys? Got him through the gun. Hand on the right shoulder. See? A lucky shot, copper. If you weren't lucky, you'd all be cold meat now. Maybe. Matt. Rick, isn't it? Uncle Joe. That's him. Miranda scribed him to you, eh? The old girl didn't miss a trick. She even knew you were taking the back way home. You left a clear trail, Uncle Joe. Slick work. I had to get him out of the car before the fireworks started. Ellie didn't stand a chance. She helped, though. Ellie catches on quick. How bad? A mean guy like Mattrick. Make him think you don't want to do something and he'll break his neck doing it. I let on I was trying to run out of gas. That got us to bills. Then we both made out. There was no sense going to Miranda's, so we got bullied into going to Miranda's. It was a thousand to one. She'd run off at the mouth about the brush fires and scare him into hiding out. After that, all Ellie had to do was turn on the hysterics. He. He was dead set on coming here. Bright boy. Like I said, bright enough. You did all right, too, Mike. I was watching the rear view mirror all the time you were tailing us, but you never showed. You knew I was there, though. When one officer starts double talking another officer, he wants to know why. Officer double talk. You never said a thing to him. Except that I bought some place out here. Yeah, the Charles place. Poor old man Charles. In a tough spot and moving out for good. What's wrong with that, Mattrick? Didn't anybody ever tell you it wasn't smart to take up with strangers. Maybe I'd better introduce myself. The name's Charles. Joe Charles. Detective Homicide. Tonight I was off duty and was just taking my wife to a movie. Thank you, Fibber McGee and Molly, for a splendid performance. Why, thank you. Thanks very much. Bud. We're not used to doing a show with a gun stuck in our backs. No used to doing them with Jack Benny breathing down our necks. Vice versa. But that guy over there, he. He looks familiar. Why, deary, that's Mr. Wilcox. Old waxy himself. The guy that sells Johnson's Wax on our Tuesday show. And not Waxy on Thursdays, dear. He. Sparky. Sparky, eh? Well, what do you know. Hey, Junior. Hello, Fibber. Hello, Molly. Hello, Mr. Wilcox. Say, you two were terrific tonight. Tell me, did you drive over from Westville Vista? Uh. Oh, Molly, I'm afraid to answer that. Because if you did, I hope your car had auto light resistor spark plugs. See what I mean? And listen, pal, if I were you, I'd stop and see an Autolite serviceman on the way home. That old boy. Listen, Waxy, I mean, Sparky, you don't have to tell me where to stop. I stopped on the way over. Why, those masterful miracles of manufacturing. Magnificent. Now, McGee, McGee, that's Mr. Wilcox's story. Let him tell it. Well, what Fibber means is that auto light parts and orig are original factory parts. Auto light parts and service and your car go together like McGee and Molly, Hap and Harlow, Amos and Andy. So when you replace worn out parts, visit your auto light service station or the dealer who sells your make of car and ask for original factory parts and service leading cars. Use them all. Autolite makes them all be right. Get Autolite parts and. Uh, Just a minute, Fibber and Molly, don't go away. Oh, that's right. You want us to say that word, if you please. Oh, yes. Well, go ahead, McGee. No, you say it, Molly. Well, why don't we both say it then? Okay. Well, I know you're going to want to hear radio's outstanding theater of Thrills next week because Charles Lawton is going to be on the program. Yes. And in a famous story by John Collier called Demorteus. And it's another gripping story study in suspense. Tonight's suspense play was by Sally Thorson with music composed by Lucian Morowek and conducted by Lud Gluskin. The entire production was under the direction of Antone M. Leider. In the coming weeks, suspense will present such stars as James Mason, Jane Wyman and Many others make it a point to listen each Thursday to suspense radio's outstanding theater of thrills. And next Thursday, same time, hear Charles Lawton in Demortius. You will find Autolight service stations listed in your classified telephone directory under automotive electrical equipment. Your right with Autolite. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Now Autolite and its 60,000 dealers and service stations present suspense. Tonight, Auto Light brings you Bob Hope in Death as a Shadow, a suspense play produced and directed by Anton M. Leiter. Friends, those April showers that bring May flowers have nothing on an Autolite Stay Full battery. Why, the extra water in an Autolite Stay Full battery makes those April showers look like a drought in the Gobi Desert. Why, an Auto Light Stay Full battery needs water only three times a year in normal car use. Yes, sir, an auto Light Stay Full battery needs water only three times a year in normal car use. And in addition, an Autolite Stay Full battery has extra plates for extra power, protected by fiberglass insulation for stronger life and longer life. Why, in recent tests conducted according to the Society of Automotive Engineers life cycle standards, Autolite Stay full batteries gave 70% longer average life than batteries without all these features. So remember, you're right with Autolite. And now, Autolite presents Bob Hope in a tale well calculated. To keep you in suspense. Don't ever answer a telephone just because you've got nothing else to do. Just because you're curious. I was sitting in my big red leather swivel chair, my feet on the largest mahogany desk money could buy. A bottle of the best scotch balanced between my special custom built shoes. Everything, the best. That's the way I like to operate. The gold lettering across my office window spelling out Harvey Warren, Counselor at Law. I liked it that way. It had dignity. Yeah, I had everything. I had a house that rambled for 14 rooms. I built that house for Lily. Lily. She was beautiful. From the top of her auburn hair to the tip of her pretty little toes. Yeah, I had it all. I had everything. Till the day my Lily was murdered. That's why I couldn't stand being home anymore. I could smell her cologne in every room. A touch of it on every chair. That's why I was at the office that night with nobody but the bottle to keep me company. And that was the call I should have never answered. But at night, eight stories up in an empty office building, that ringing sounded urgent, like it was the most important thing in my lonely little world. Hello? Warren? Who's this? Oh, you know who this is. Yes, Bolster. No name, stupid. What are you doing at your office this time of night? What do you want? Have you got it? Well, sure I've got it. It's all ready for mailing. I'll drop it off when I leave. Don't bother. I'm gonna pick it up tonight. But I told you I'd mail it. I changed my mind. I'm coming over. I'll be there at 10 o'clock. I can't make it tonight. I'm leaving. I'm just going out. You'll make it all right. Yeah, but why all of a sudden tonight, Warren. 10:00. And Warren, don't try anything. What are you talking about? Why should I try anything? What could I try? You could be cute enough to figure out something. You're that kind of a guy, so don't try anything. Something must have gone wrong. All I was supposed to do was mail him his money. What got into him? Why would he want to come to my office now at night when the building was empty? Couldn't be just the money. He was coming for something else. Something else? But what? Police Department, Genesee. Get me Homicide. Now hold on. He wants Homicide, extension 458. Hello, Homicide? This is Homicide. Is Joe there? Lieutenant Joe Scarpone. Who's calling? Harvey Warren. Oh, hello, Mr. Warren. Hope you've been feeling better. Oh, thanks, Mike. I don't have much time. Would you get me Joe? Well, he ain't here, Mr. Warren. Where is he? I don't know. I've got to get to him. Something wrong? You got to locate him, Mike. Well, I've got a whole police department, Mr. Warren. Just say the word. What's wrong? Only Joe. He's the only one that can help me. Well, he may be calling in. Then tell him to call me at my office, will you? Don't make any mistake, Mike. I'm at my office. I couldn't get it out of my mind what had made bolster switch like that. What had gone wrong? Must have figured it out and was coming over for just one thing. To kill me. Lion Apartments. Lieutenant Joe Scarpone, please. One moment. He doesn't answer. Well, where can I reach him? He must have left some kind of a message. I'm sorry, sir, he hasn't been in all evening. Well, tell him to call Harvey Warren. Yes, Mr. Warren. At my office, understand? Does he have your number, sir? He's got my number. Don't make any mistakes in my office. He's got to reach me before 10:00. That's tonight, understand? I'll tell him, Mr. Warren. Thank you, Madge. I've got to try, Madge. He's got to be at Madge's place. I should have thought of it before. Busy. That must be Joe. He's got to be there. That's Joe trying to get me. I've got to wait. Have to give him a chance to get through. Why doesn't it ring? Why doesn't he call? Can't wait. Six, nine, four. Hello? Madge, baby. Oh, hello, Warren. What's this sudden devotion? Oh, Mads. Let me talk to Joe. And don't tell me he's not there. Of course he's not here, Warren. What's the matter with you? Madge? I gotta find him. Well, I am expecting him. When? Soon. Don't give me double talk, Madge. When? We've got a date. 10:00. 10:00. That's too late. Madge. What's the matter? Warren? Where can I reach him? Where can I find Joe? Did you try his hotel? He's not there. We'll call Homicide. He's nowhere, Madge. What's wrong? Warren, there's no time to explain. Help me find him, please. I'll do what I can at my office. Don't forget, at my office before 10. I kept on calling everywhere. Every bar he'd ever had a drink, his favorite restaurants. Even the Turkish bath where he played handball and got his rub down. Joe was nowhere. I looked at my watch. It said 9:31. The clock on the wall showed 9:35. Now, I wasn't even sure of the time. I couldn't afford to be wrong about the time. At the tone, the time will be 9:35 and 10 seconds. The clock on the wall was right. There wasn't much time. Even if I get a hold of Joe, it'd be too late. My mind was starting to play tricks, starting to tie my insides up in a hundred little knots. Suppose Bolster got here early. Suppose he got here before 10 and no Joe. I got up in a panic. My shirt was soaked wet to my back. I could run. Yeah, I could get away while it was still time. But then Bolster would really know something was wrong. Maybe he wasn't gonna kill me. Maybe he was just coming for his money. I had to get rid of the hysteria. Had to get a hold of myself. No use playing guessing games. I opened the door. I was gonna leave. I wasn't gonna be a sitting duck for a guy like Bolster. At that time of night, just one elevator was in use. It was directly opposite my office door. The indicator over the door flashed numbers. When the car was running, I went to press the button to signal for the night man. Before I could press it, the car started up. Somebody was coming up. I wanted to run. I didn't know where. I was on the top floor. My eyes went to the ceiling. Down the end of the hallway there was a spiral ladder that led into a trap. Up through the ceiling. Must have been the opening of the roof. I started to run for it. I stopped, silly, when all the time there was a stairway going down. I ran for the exit sign and ducked into the stairway. Down one flight and I smacked right into it. A steel gate spread like an accordion across the bottom landing. The gate they always fastened in place at 9:00. Trapped. I was trapped. And then I just stood there. Everything quiet. What happened to the elevator? Then I heard the door open downstairs, right below. It didn't come up to the eighth. It was the night man letting off the cleaning woman. I walked back up the steps. The light on the indicator showed the fifth floor. Then the indicator started flashing again. It was going down. Now was my time to signal the night man while he was still in the car. Before I had a chance, the telephone began to ring. It was coming from my office. Keep ringing, Joe. I'm coming. Just don't stop ringing. Hello? Hello, Joe? Oh. Oh. Ain't this Gladstone 2707? That's right. Are you calling? Give me Sammy. Who? I want to talk to Sammy. Right number, girly. Wrong party. I looked at the clock. It was no use. Too late, even if he did call. I started to go. I saw the bottle on the table. I had to take another drink. I felt a little better. Now I have to get out. Hello? Hello, it's me again. Look, girlie, there's no Sammy at this number. I know, but you sounded kind of lonely. I'm lonely too. Forget it, will ya? Don't tie up my phone, understand? Sure, I know you're waiting for a call too. Get off my number. I don't want this phone tied up. Sure, sure, I understand. But just in case, why don't you take my. I started to go and wasn't gonna stop, not for anything. Then I realized it might be too late. Suppose he was on his way up. Suppose he was watching the entrance. Why did that girl call back? What did she want? Then I knew it was a trick. A typical hoodlum trick. Bolster was using that girl to check up on me. Playing at cat and mouse. His way of holding me to the phone, making sure while he was on his way up. A trick. 20 minutes to 10. The clock kept staring at me, the minute hand beating its way around a circle. 20 minutes to 10. That girl again. Checking up on me? Who did Bolster think he was kidding? He knew I had to answer that phone. Hello, Warren. Joe, you don't know how I've been trying to get you all night. Yeah, I know your line's been busy. Oh, come right over, Joe. What's the matter? There's no time to talk. Just get here. Oh, well, I got a date, Warren. It's on my only night off. You know how match is. Joe, this is a matter of life and death. Whose life? My life. Oh, well, I'll be right there. Before 10, Joe. It's gotta be before 10. For suspense, autolight is bringing you Bob Hope in radio's outstanding theater of thrills Suspend. Hello there, Harlow. Say, what happened to your face? Lose an argument with a revolving door? No, Hap. I was at a big community picnic. Oh, sat in the sun too long, huh? I sat at the speaker's table. In fact, that's how well, it was like this. There was an audience. So I jumped up and said, an Autolite Stay Full battery needs water only three times a year in normal car use. Why, as a matter of fact, I did. I said that dandy dynamic, dependable Auto Light Stay full battery has a camel hanging on the ropes back in a corner when it comes to capacity. Yes, sir. An Auto Light Stay Full battery needs water only three times a year in normal car use. But hollow. Your father. I told him an Autolite Stay Full battery has extra plates protected by fiberglass insulation for longer life and stronger life. You said this during the picnic supper? Not only that, I told him. In addition, how in recent tests conducted according to the Society of Automotive Engineers life cycle standards, Autolite Stay full batteries gave 70%. Yes, 70% longer average life than batteries without all these features. And when I got through, do you know, Hap, they crowned me with a garland of leaves. But that doesn't explain about your face. Oh, I forgot to mention the leaves were poison ivy. Oh, and I forgot to mention. Here's suspense. And now Auto Light brings back to a Hollywood soundstage, Bob Hope as Warren in Death Has a Shadow, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. My eyes were drawn to the clock again. I watched the minute hand cutting down the time. If Joe came with a squad car, he'd be here in a matter of minutes. But it was his night off. Maybe he wouldn't be able to get A cab. I took another drink just for luck. I opened the door and listened for the elevator. Didn't take long. I went into the hallway. The light on the indicator was flashing. 2, 3, 4. Maybe it wasn't Joe. Maybe it was Boaster. How was I to know? I ducked into the stairway landing, watching Joe. What? Warren, are you nuts? Oh, I've never been so glad to see you, to see anybody. You know better than that. Coming up from behind a guy. Say, you look terrible. What's wrong? Well, don't close the door, Joe. Why? When he comes, we can hear the elevator. Okay. Now, what's it all about? He's due here at 10:00. He's a killer. Who is? A killer? I have to start from the beginning. You don't have much time. But you won't understand unless I explain. Okay, but don't start dramatizing. It's a quarter to 10. Well, we have to start with the day Lily was murdered. Remember? I called you. And when you came, you found me sitting in the bedroom looking at her. Her head hanging almost to the floor, the rest of her doubled up on the bed. Her auburn hair gently suspended, like someone spun fine silk around where the bullet went through that lovely head. She was so beautiful. I was sitting there looking at her, the sounds tumbling around my head. The photographers, the newspapermen, flashbulbs, all like a bad dream. Look, can't you take the hair away from her face? I'll cut your head off if you touch that body. Let's see the gun. Show him the gun, Mike. It's a gun. What's there to see? We understand it's Warren's gun. You understand nothing until it's official. The coroner said it happened this morning, about four hours ago. Now, how about that, Lieutenant? Quote him? Don't ask me. Mike. Yeah? They had enough. Get him out of here. Oh, wait a minute. Not so fast. I want one more shot of Warren. Put that drink back in your hand, Mr. Warren, please. Now, look, fella, don't overdo it. This is no private affair. Lieutenant Scarponi, why don't you lay off? Well, put the drink back in his hand, take it the way he is and get out. We'd like to do it the way it happened. He had a drink in his hand. It wouldn't look so good, Lieutenant, if the paper said you were covering up for a lifelong friend. Mike, get him out of here. Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Well, this is some mess, Warren. Yeah? How did it happen? Well, I loved her, Joe. You knew How I loved her more than anything in the world. Now look at her. Yeah. You know we've been fighting. Last night was the worst that ever happened. So I ran out of the house. What time? Right after dinner. I went down to the Silver Grill and had a couple. You can check on that. Uh huh. Then the Biltmore and had a few more. And I remember calling a cab on 7th and Hill. And then, so help me, Joe, that's all I remember. What do you mean, that's all you remember? Well, that's all I drew. A blank. We've known each other all our lives, Joe. Did you ever know me to blackout? That's not like you, Warren. But that's what happened. I don't remember anything. Until when? Until I woke up and called you. And where did you wake up? Right here in the bedroom. In bed? No. In this chair. Just like I am now. I saw Lily just like she is now. Blood on the floor. I know she's done for her. My beautiful Lily. Then I get up to get a bottle. And I sit down again in this chair. I take one good long drink. I reach for the phone on the night table. I call you. I've been sitting here since. With a bottle. Mm. And the gun, is it yours? Warren, you know that gun is mine. It was on the floor. It's the gun that killed him, Joe. Do you think I did it? Well, I don't have to tell you how it looks. I know how it looks. What I want to know is, do you think I did it? I'll have to book you, Warren. Oh, I couldn't have killed her, Joe. You know I couldn't. I loved her too much. I couldn't have killed her, Joe. Before we get to trial, Warren, for your own good, you'd better start remembering. Seems like a long time ago, Joe. I just couldn't remember what I'd been doing there in the bedroom after Lily was murdered. Couldn't even remember how I got there. Two minutes ago, you were scared to death. You were trying to reach me. Every place in town while I'm here. Do you remember that day in the courtroom? What's that got to do with the killer? Who's on his way up here quite a bit, Joe, that's what I'm coming to. But before he comes, you gotta know the whole story. I know the whole story. Not quite. Think back to that day in court, Joe. You remember how bad it looked for me? All the newspapers were sure I was done for because I couldn't remember where I was when she was killed. And I knew I was somewhere else when it happened. But all the evidence piled against me. Everybody. Sure. I was a dead duck. You imagined court at my side and the prosecuting attorney pressing the jury for the full penalty. And the only defense offered by the accused is that he doesn't remember. He pleads not guilty, claiming temporary insanity. Forgetfulness, as so conveniently happening to the accused, cannot be construed as insanity. The state must therefore ask that the full penalty according to the law. Match. Here. Get me some water. Hey, Pastor. Poor man. He just couldn't take it. That this court will keep. Order. Order. You all right now, Warren? You feel better? Joe, I. I didn't do it. Yeah, sure, sure, Joe. I remember now. I remember. I didn't do it. I was out of town when it happened. I was out of town. I was out of town where Lily was murdered, Joe. And we proved it, remember? And I was acquitted. Like a bad dream, wasn't it? Look, for the last time, Warren, is this what you call me up to your office for? What's this got to do with somebody coming over here to kill you? Yeah, like a bad dream. Okay, Warren. I've got a date with Madge. Oh, no, Joe. You got a date with a killer. Then who is the killer? I'll never forget that day they acquitted me. I walked out of court a free man. I know you weren't guilty. Your alibi proved you weren't guilty. I know all that. Yes, Joe, but you don't know I was guilty. What? What did you say? I was guilty. You're losing your mind, Warren. You're nuts. If I'm nuts, what does that make you? Makes sense, Warren. Lily thought I was nuts, too. Smart little woman thinking she could make a sucker out of me. She was gonna leave me take half of all I had. That's what she thought. How did you kill Lily that morning when you were in Glendale? I know you were in Glendale because your alibi proved it. It was Lily who gave me the idea how to do it. You know how beautiful she was? Every Thursday, the maid's day off, she stayed in bed, slapped the clock around, taking care of her looks. I began figuring Lily all day alone, Lily in bed. All I had to do was hire somebody to kill her while I was out of town. Then the guy coming up here. That's right is the killer. A three time loser and very tough. I gave him my gun to do it with, and that's all there was to it. He's the man you want, Joe. He's on his way up here to kill me. Instead of doing that, you'll arrest him and clear your books on the Lilly case. So this is why it was so important for me to get here, huh? You have to admit, it was neat getting myself pinched, faking the blackout, stacking the evidence against myself and forcing you to bring me to trial. I never had a blackout in my life, but it got me off. Great law, that double jeopardy. Puts you on the spot, though, doesn't it, Joe? You know I'm guilty, but there's nothing you can do about it. The law says I can't be tried twice for the same crime. You see, Joe, I happen to be one of those lawyers who knows his law. Yeah, you've always been at the head of the class. Never worked too hard to get there just by looking over the next guy's shoulder. And using him was the smart way. Yeah, Kitty. Very neat. I knew you'd be a good sport about it. Maybe I'm just another dumb cop to you. Well, I don't like anybody making a sucker out of me. Especially a guy who's supposed to be my good friend. Where you going? You got a date with this killer who's due here any minute. Well, I got a date with my girl. Good night, Warren. We're both going to keep our dates. Joe. What are you trying to do? You're a cop. You've got to pick him up. He's a killer, Joe. I can pick him up after 10 o'clock, can I? Oh, you can't leave me, Joe. You can't leave me here alone. I don't like your company. Oh, he's gonna kill me, Joe. He's gonna kill you. Now, why should he do that to a guy who pays so well for what he buys? Well, I'm the only one who knows he fired that gun. Are you gentlemen all through for the night? Yeah, I'm all through. He's gonna stay. I'm going down. Well, step in. Stay where you are, Warren. You can't leave me. Let go. My Joe. Close the door, mister. I said close the door. Joe. He's gonna kill me. Joe. Hello, Warren. What? Bolster. It was Bolster standing there and leering at me. Joey's here, Joe. Shut up. Don't do that again. Where did you come from? Well, you don't think I'd ever use a front door, do you? They build these places with fire escapes, you know. Now, into your office. I started walking. I had to do something. Him right behind. Then I made a break for it. Into the office. Then I saw the butt of his gun smash through the window. And then Bolster's hand reached through and unlock the door. Oh, you're pretty cute, Boaster. You're not gonna do anything. You want your money? Don't you want your money? Oh, yeah, yeah. The money comes first. Well, it's in. In one of these drawers, you know. You told me to do it with your gun. I don't remember which drawer. I couldn't figure it out. Why a guy should want me to plant his gun. That's strange. I was sure. Warren, where's the money? I'm trying to find it. Don't stall. It was a white envelope. You know. It didn't figure until you went to trial and they acquitted you. That's when I began to worry. So many white envelopes. But I still wasn't sure until tonight when I got here. When I see what you've been up to. Fine. That dough. I'm trying. I misplaced it. And then. Then it hit me. You was free and I was liable. No more tricks. It should be fine. That dough. Here. Here it is on a desk. Lay it down. Now turn around. Don't you want to see if it's all here? Turn around. And like a dumb six year old kid, I turned around. No. It was the funniest sensation. Hearing the shot, feeling the panic. But nothing happened. I turned around. Bolster's eyes started to roll. His mouth opened like he had something to say. And then he dropped. No, it didn't happen to you, Warren. Joe. The elevator opposite your door and the broken window. You can thank them both. You're a very funny guy, Joe. That's some game you played. Is he dead? He's dead. Hey, what are these for? I'm holding you for murder. Murder? How can you be so dumb? I was acquitted, remember? You can't try me again. I'm talking about this murder. Are you crazy? I didn't shoot Bolster. I didn't even have a gun. I thought you were one lawyer who happened to know all about the law. Or didn't you know that it makes no difference who shot him. The two of you were committing a felony. And the law says all accessories to a felony are equally responsible for all acts resulting from the felony. Unquote. But, Joe. Including homicide, Warren. Including homicide. I don't know all about the law like you, Mr. Harvey. Warren. I only know just enough to get by. Let's go, Joe. Wait a minute, Joe. I think I'm gonna faint. I'm gonna black out. Joe, wait. You see, I don't remember a thing, Joe. So help me, Joe, I don't remember. Thank you, Bob Hope, for a splendid performance. And thanks for the memory. Suspensefully you sat while I have been at that. And now it's time to talk about our product. And that's that. Skinny Wilcox. You sing too, Eli Swan. I know you do, Bob. Every Tuesday night for Swan Soap. On Thursdays I Autolight. I've run into a comic Wilcox. You know, I was in Toledo recently and was given an Autolite Stay full battery. Now I see why you've got a right to sing, Bob. I'm always singing the praises of Autolyte Stay full batteries. And for that matter, any of the more than 400 products for cars, trucks, airplanes and boats that are made in 28 auto light plants from coast to coast. Yes, sir. And Autolight also makes complete electrical systems for many makes of America's finest cars. Batteries, spark plugs, generators, starting motors, coils, distributors. All engineered to fit together perfectly, work together perfectly because they're a perfect team. So folks, don't accept electrical parts that are supposed to be as good. Ask for and insist on Autolite original factory parts at your neighborhood service station, car dealer, garage or repair shop. Remember, you're always right with Autolite. Now here again is Bob Hope. My thanks to Tony Leader for letting me be a villain for a change. And now, as a graduate of suspense, I'll be more interested than ever to hear radio's outstanding theater of thrills next week when that lovely Academy Award winner Claire Trevor returns to play in a story called the Light Switch. Another gripping study in suspense. Bob Hope will soon be seen in the Paramount Pictures Sorrowful Jones. Tonight's suspense play was written by Joe Pagano with music composed by Lucian Morrowek and conducted by Lud Bluskin. The entire production was under the direction of Anton M. Leader. In the coming weeks, suspense will present such stars as James Stewart, Joan Crawford, Frederick March and many others. So make it a point to listen each Thursday to suspense radio's outstanding theater of thrills. And next Thursday, same time, here Claire Trevor in the Light switch. You can buy Autolite Stafold batteries, Auto Light resistor spark plugs, Auto Light electrical parts at your neighborhood Auto Light dealers. Switch to Auto Light. Good night. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present suspense. Tonight, Auto Night brings you rave notice. A suspense play starring Mr. Milton Burl. Ring out, you hymn of hate. Ring out. Send word that all who listen. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Now what? You're supposed to be an actor, not a foghorn. Yes, sir. By what standards do you consider yourself to be an actor? You're persecuting me. I persecute nobody. A man cannot play a role. He's replaced. Replaced? There goes that persecution talk again. Replace me and I'll kill you. Witnesses. He's threatening me. Then don't talk of replacement. I'm not kidding, Norman. Replace me and I'll kill you in justice. Just a moment. Mr. Milton Berle in the first act of Rave notice. Wilcox. Ah. Say, Wilcox, I hear you're a campaign manager. You bet, Senator. And my candidates are cinched to win. What's his name? You're kidding, aren't you, Senator? He's the famous Auto Light Stay Full Battery. My candidate is so well known that every valiant voter vaunts his valor and veracity. What's his platform? Why, the famous Autolite staple battery needs water only three times a year in normal car use, Senator. And he's running on a platform to give longer life. 70% longer life, in fact, as proved by tests conducted according to the Society of Automotive Engineers minimum life cycle standards. And that's really an endorsement. Is your candidate prepared for a long cycle in office? Wilco. He sure is, Senator. Because every positive plate of the Autolite Stay Full battery is protected with a fiberglass retaining mat to help reduce flaking and shedding. So, friends, join the crowd voting for the Autolite Stay Full Battery. The battery that needs water only three times a year in normal car use. See your neighborhood Autolite battery dealer. And remember, you're always right with Autolite. And now, with Rave notice and the performance of Mr. Milton Burl, autolight hopes once again to keep you in suspense. Look, when I'm walking across Times Square like this, I'm just an ordinary man. Plain, unnoticeable. I watch the crowd. You wouldn't even notice me. It's as though I were. Invisible. Yeah, like that. Invisible. But wait. Come here. Come with me. Through this door, through here and into the darkness. Now I breathe deeply of the thick dark air and I become taller. My eyes drink in the gloomy shadows, become lustrous bird like noble. Here in this temple of the passions, I throw off my cloak of invisibility and I reveal myself, my true self. For this is the theater. And I, I am an actor. Down there, beyond the empty seats, lit by the single bare bulb of my fellow actors. And we're all here to make a play. Friend Norman, Seated alone in the third row is our director. This is the Fifth day of the rehearsal. Still rather rough, stiffish and so forth. But it's not a bad little play. And you know Norman. Norman will manage somehow to spoil it. Norman will misdirect actors and lose values. And I've known Norman for years from the group theater. We were in the group together. Oh, no. No, no, no, no. But, Norman, why not? Because I'm the director and I say no. No. Very well. Try again. I wish somebody would tell me what it's all about. Life, I mean. I wish somebody would give me the word adequate. Thank you, Norman. Oh. Oh, hello there. How are we coming? I come over here. I want to talk to you. Sure, Norman, sure. What is it? This is. Well, believe me, Sam, the most difficult thing I've ever had to say. Speak out, Norman. You know me. I've had to turn over the bell ringer to Luther. The bell ringer? What do you mean, Norman? That's my part. The bell ringer. What do you mean to Luther? Don't make it difficult for me, Sam. Difficult? I'm not making it difficult. Not at all. The bell ringer roll is mine, Norman. That's all. There's no difficulty involved. Please. You joke. No. It's not as if I hadn't warned. Tell me what's wrong. Tell me where I've stepped off. What irritates you? What doesn't fit and I'll fix it. I'll fix it. That's my role, Norman. I carry the whole cast with that role. Don't shout, Sam. You're making a fool of yourself. A fool? Norman, why are you doing this to me? Because you're not right for it. Not right? Yes. Wait. You fat pig. What do you know? No. Easy. What do you know? What do you know about acting? Easy there. Easy, I say. Easy. Fat. Fat belly, fat head, fat face. That's enough. You know nothing. I know you. I know actors. You're no actor. You stink. I'll kill you for saying that. I'll kill you. Witnesses. He's threatening me again. Yes. Listen good, Norman. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you. You see? You can't even deliver that line. You stink. Yes, sir? I want to buy a gun. Yes, sir. What sort of a gun did you wish to buy? One that will shoot through fat, sir. Pardon me. I. Sorry. I was thinking. What have you got? Why, pistols, rifles, shotguns? Well, I don't know exactly. What was it you wish to use the gun for? I want to kill a rat. A.22 would be about your best Bet here's a nice little item. Looks pretty small. This is an awfully big rat. Fat rat. I. I think a shotgun. A.410. Yeah. Yeah. You think that'll do it? Oh, mister, that gun will. I guarantee. I use a gun like that myself. Single barrel, light, handy. Truly beautiful weapon. Bullets. You got bullets? Shells. Shells are used in this weapon. Now, there are all kinds, depending on what weight shot you want to use. You choose it. I want one. One box. No. One bullet. One. Yeah. This rat I'm not gonna miss. It's time. Now, he'll come out of that far door of the entrance and he'll walk this way because he's going to go into Sardi's for a drink. I slide it out from under my coat and I smile and I say, goodbye, Norman. Pull the trigger. Heart or belly? Heart or belly? Belly. Yes, in the belly. His cultivated paunch fatted with actors. Hearts. Yes. Belly. Am I invisible now? I mustn't be noticed until the moment. Perhaps standing a little too tall. Sag. That's it. Perfect. The actor plays himself as a non actor. You should see this, Norman. Now, goodbye, Norman. Sam. No shock. I'm shocked. Oh, it hurts. Norman, you're dying. You're going to go to hell in a minute. Norman, I'm shocked. Somebody call an ambulance. It won't do you any good, Norman. You're dying. You'll be dead before it gets. Oh, it hurts. Is this how you play your death scene, Norman, you're dying. Play it. Please. Somebody call an ambulance for me. Don't let me lie here. Oh, if an actor played a death scene for you as badly as you're playing your own, Norman, do you know what you'd do? Ambulance. Help, please. Ambulance. The shotgun. He did it right in the middle of 45th Street. Oh, they brought him in an hour ago. Give you any trouble? Like a land. Hello. I thought you'd like to know that guy, he's still kicking. Alive. He's alive? Yep. So you're not a murderer? Not yet. I brought your lawyer. What's that? I'm your lawyer. How do you do? Sit down, won't you? Thank you. They say he's still not dead. No, but he's sinking. How much longer? They didn't say. When he dies, I become a murderer. Yes. They'll electrocute me. Yes. Must have been crazy. I thought of that. What do you mean? Temporary insanity. I thought we might plead that. Well, why don't we? Because you threatened him before. Witnesses at least twice. Went to a store, chose a Gun with great care, waited for him to appear. You did all this and then you shot him? That's right, I did. That's premeditated murder. First degree murder. So the temporary insanity thing is out? Way out. The only other thing I can think of is with the proof you were insane all along. Me, insane? But of course not. I should say not. What? Wait a minute. What would happen? I mean, if I were. Oh, they get the psychiatrists in, examine you, send you off to be cured. Yeah. You seem very calm. I'm an actor. He's gone. And I sit here seeming very calm. From time to time, the God passes, looks at me curiously. I know what's on his mind. He's saying this. It's a cold blooded murderer. I know. All my life I've studied the human beings. Memorize their gestures, tones, expressions, inflections, emotions. I've learned to probe every moment of my own experience from early childhood. Searched out my every reaction, emotion. Learned to feel the parallel emotions of others. The Stanislavski method of acting. I have it. Know it. Of course, if we could prove you were insane all along. But I'm not. The insane man moves without motive. And I had a motive. I know you. I know actors. You're no actor. Ooh, I could do it again. No actor. No actor. No actor. I could do it again. Insane. Crazy. Nuts. I know a joke. I know a joke. A wonderful joke. I'm going to beat Norman even in his grave. I'm going to have myself exonerated of his murder. Yes. Freed of the charges. It's so simple, I can hear it. Not guilty by reason of insanity. I'm gonna play the greatest role of my life. Play it without makeup, without lights, without script or cue. I'm gonna play a part strangely foreign to my nature. I'm going to play a homicidal man. Autolite is bringing you Mr. Milton Burl in rave. Notice tonight's production in Radio's Outstanding Theater Thrills Suspense. Wilcox. What's this? A campaign slogan for your candidates. Right. Oh, Senator, the Autolite Stay full battery is the battery that needs water only three times a year in normal car use. That's my candidate's simple sound and superior slogan. Seems pretty dry to me. Wilco. Why am I droll, dignitary? Let me tell you about my candidate's characteristics. He has fiberglass retaining mats protecting every positive plate to help reduce flaking and shedding. And Senator, everybody votes for Autolite Stay Full batteries because you can't buy a better battery for your car. What's the opposition, Wilcox? No opposition, Senator. Why? With a 70% longer life as proved by tests conducted according to SAE minimum life cycle standards, who would even think of opposing an auto light stay full battery? He's in Wilcox. What did you say he was running for? For the wonderful dealers from coast to coast who sell Autolite Stay full batteries to the master minded motorists who drive their cars to perfection with Autolite staple batteries. The battery that needs water only three times a year in normal car use. Better see your auto eye dealer and get an auto light battery at once, Senator. Good idea. And remember, Senator, you're always right with Autolite. And now Autolite brings back to our Hollywood soundstage, Mr. Milton Burl in Elliot Lewis's production of Rave Notice a tale well calculated. To keep you in suspense, I'm going to play a homicidal maniac. How? How? What is the most terrible thing I ever did? The thing closest to murder. I must recreate that move. Murder. Killing blood. I killed a cat once. Yeah, I was six years old. I didn't mean to kill it, but I had this stick. It was in an alley, this cat. And I poked it just for laughs. He didn't run. That's all I wanted to do was just to make him run. Oh, he scratched me. And I hit him, hit him across the back with a stick. And he started this hollering and squalling. And oh, I thought, oh, I thought I'm gonna get into trouble. Stop that noise. Stop that noise. And I hit him again to make him stop. And again to make him stop. And again. And there was blood, red blood on the gray cement. And struck and struck and struck out the screams. Struck out the life. Struck out the awful gaze of those great yellow eyes. Struck out the life. Struck out the spirit and the spark. I kill a murderer I am. I kill for the thrill of silence of the cat. I am a murderer, a murderer I am. I kill without reason. That's it. That's it. That's it. That's the character. All I need for turning it on is the memory. Those key points. Grace and cat's eyes. My feet feelings as a six year old. Oh, there will be refinements. I'll refine it. Oh, Norman, if you are only here to see this scene. You are only here. Dim the house lights. Raise the curtain. Now to get my audience in. What's that? Sounds like the shotgun guy. He's laughing. We better go see what's up. Hey, hey. Hey. You. Who. Who may I ask are you? What? Who are you? Who Are you? Who are you? Oh, come on now, Ma. Calm down. I asked the civil question and I expect a civil answer. Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? He was so nice and quiet for a while there. Hey, just answer my question. That's all I ask. And that's not much reward for a hero to be asking, now, is it? Don't you know who we are? I think he's putting on an act. Hey, don't turn your head away. We know you hear us, nuts. Leave him be. You think he's kidding? What does it matter? Oh, that brings me lousy. You can do better than that, Sam. You're supposed to be a murderer. A homicidal maniac. So what's the emotion? Guilt. Guilt. You've got to be guilty. Guilty. Guilty, guilty. Smear yourself with the stuff. Guilty. Bloody hands. That's you. Guilty. And you want to be punished? Yeah, punished. Punish yourself. That'll do it. But it'll hurt. So what? So what? Not like it hurts when they shave your head and slit your trousers and strap you to your seat. Oh, that seat. 10,000 coursing through this poor player's frail body, with which I am cursed. Murderer. Guilty. Guilty. Should be punished. Should be punished. One, two, three. Curtain going up. Guilty. Guilty. There he goes again. You go. Ah, what a judgement. And smashed a murder. Murder. I murdered him. I am a murderer. I'm a murderer. And I confess it. I confess. I'm a murderer. Hey, hey. I want to confess it. You don't have to do that to confess. To purge myself of this guilt. But you did all that when you first come in here. I am a murderer. I am guilty. Here. I smashed him. I smashed him. What are you getting yourself so worked up about? That guy isn't even dead yet. Not dead. He is dead. He's been dead these past 36 years. 36 years. Oh. Oh. If you won't punish me, I. Oh. Hey, what are you doing? Hey. I am guilty. I'm guilty. And I shall be smashed as he was smashed. Your hands. You're gonna bust your hand in that wall. I shall be smashed. It is written, you know, the writing in the blood that lies across the counterpane, in the bed, under the pillow when little boys are supposed to be far away in slumberland. Joke. That's the doctor. Good, good. He's getting a doctor. My hand. My hand is killing me. Seems that something broke then. I don't mind the bloody, scraped knuckles or even breaking the nails, but not the bones. I want to be sure I can Use this darn thing when I get out of here. When? If I ever get out of here. Two cats dead. Murdered by my stick. Four cats dead. Murdered by my stick. Six. Doc, I'll open the cell if you want to go. Of course I do. How long has he been doing this? Well, about 15 minutes, doctor. Since just before he sent Schultz after you. I see. All right, now, you can stop that. I don't stop. I don't stop. I don't look. I keep right at it. I keep in the pot. Murder. I guilty. It hurts. But if I keep at it. If I keep at it, I'm paying a price. I am paying my way out of being electrocuted. I'm going to be freed. I can only keep it up. You are doing yourself real good. This way, man. All right, come on. Leave me. Leave me alone. I want to pay. I am the guilty one and I want to pay the sentence. To the car. Hold him in. Come on. Now. Every call. Let me go. I must pay. I must pay. Steady, steady. Like a diamond needle. Oh, he's pressing the syringe. It'll knock me out. I can't act. I'm unconscious. I can't act. I can't play the part. I'm guilty. I can. I can. I can. So quiet here. So white. Such sweet stillness and peace. Gone. The darkness of the steel and concrete. And the cell. This white ceiling. They're watching me very carefully. The taller one, he's new. The other gave me the hypodermic. Yes, I long have I been out. Did I say anything while I was out? Perhaps if I keep still, they'll let me know. I must have been wrong. Are you awake? You say he showed definite suicidal tendencies? Suicidal? Immediate or simply self destructive? While he was unconscious, I listened to him. He spoke. He seemed under the delusion that he is invisible. Invisible. That's a new one. Now wait a minute. Look, he's opening his eyes. Hello, awake. Who are you? You remember me, don't you? No. Something to quiet you. A little while ago. A little while ago. You're trying to injure yourself that we'd think you're insane. You've decided to give that up, haven't you? If you'll only let me go. Let me out of here. I have to carry out sentence, you know how. Will you carry out sentence? Be smashed. I am to be smashed as I have smashed the case, Cat. Is that the law? An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth? You believe in that? If you believe in the eye for eye. Law. Don't you feel it's right that you received the same thing you gave your victim? Yes. I smashed him with a stick and the eyes that stared at me. Stick? You mean shotgun, don't you? Why would I say shotgun if I meant stick? I. I said stick. You shot the man with a shotgun. You're out of your mind. After you smashed him with a stick, what happened? What came after he was dead? Oh, I was frightened. I went home. Mama was there. She said, how did you get blood on your hands? And I said, a dog licked my hand and he had blood on his teeth. Understand? You're an actor. We are all actors. We try to act innocent when we are guilty. Doctor, come outside a moment, will you? I've got them. I've got them. Just keep playing it cold and clear. What are they talking about out there? I wish I knew. Doesn't matter. I have them. I know that I've got them. I've got them. Well, I guess you'll be leaving us soon. That's what I asked for. Thank you. Thank you. You're understanding, Doctor, I am guilty and I must carry out sentence. You know that. What the doctor means is that you're going to a place where they'll help you to get well. Get well? But I am well. I'm just guilty, that's all. Of course, if you have the affidavits drawn up, I'll sign. You'll get a court order committing. Right. Means you were right all along. You know, I wasn't sure until you told me about the man who was shot. About his recovery. Oh, yes. The guards told this man he'd recovered, but they didn't comprehend the cause. He went right on screaming and punishing me, see? Well, let's go. What would they have given him were he saying? Well, that depends. The injured party refused to press charges. He'd be out of here in an hour. Free man recovered rec. They didn't tell me he'd recovered. How could he be recovered? I shot him. I shot him in his fat paunch, in his belly. When did they tell me? It was while I was screaming. Maybe I was really into the part then and deep in it. Couldn't have heard them. I couldn't have heard. And now. Now he will walk out of here and I will go off to an insane asylum married to a role. And I loathe that. I hate. No. No. Doctor, come back here. Come back here, please. It was all a joke. Doctor, come back. Come back. What is it? Listen, Doctor. Listen. I have a confession. To make. Doctor, I'm not insane. Please believe me. Please believe me. Of course you're not. Just a little confused, that's all. Yes. Yeah, why not even confused? Don't you see? It was all a gag. It was just a gag. Of course it was. Now you're going to a place where you can rest and everything's going to be all right. Oh, no. Believe me. Believe me, I am sane. Why shout? I am not shouting. I only want to impress upon you. You were shouting rather loudly. Oh, look, I shot. And my lawyer said if I could prove insanity, I. I wouldn't go to the chair. Chair? I thought you were to be. You said smashed. Forget that. That was part of the method. Method? You know, the Stanislavski method. It's a system of acting. What do you think, Doctor? Don't know, man. He seems to be telling the truth. Think so? I can fool you all over again if you feel it's necessary to prove my point. No, I don't believe you'll be able to fool me again. Well, Doctor? Sane, I say. Sane, I say. The man is in full control of his faculties, Is aware of his crime, committed it out of what society calls sober motive. And you, sir, do you agree with the doctor? It's what I've been telling you. And I say same. That makes it unanimous. Vlad. That's over. Wow. What a performance. Gentlemen, never in the history of the theater has such a performance been rendered. Nor under such adverse conditions. Just one more question. Shoot. Shoot. Why did you kill him? Kill him? But I didn't. I shot him, that's all. Shot? You mean shot, don't you? Well, don't you? No. Woman is dead and you are saved. You're going to repay society with your life. Woman is dead. Oh. Treachery. Villainy. Bring down the curtain. Bring down the cur. Suspense presented by Auto Light. Tonight's star, Milton Berle. Well, Wilcox, did your candidate win? Win? Senator, why the Autolite stay full Battery is the winningest cand candidate the polls have ever produced. And this winsome leader is only one of over 400 auto light winners. For cars, trucks, planes and boats made by autolyte in 28 plants coast to coast. These include complete electrical systems used as original equipment on many makes of America's finest cars. Spark plugs, batteries, generators, coils, distributors, electric windshield wipers, starting motors, bullseye seal beam headlights. All engineered to fit together perfectly. Work together perfectly because they're a perfect team. So friends don't accept electrical parts supposed to be as good. Ask for and insist On Autolite original factory parts at your neighborhood service station, car dealer, garage or repair shop. Remember, you're always right with Autolight. Next week on suspense, Ms. Barbara Stanwyck as a woman who gambled. And the stake was death in the wages of sin. And in weeks to come, you will hear such famous stars as Richard Widmark, Herbert Marshall and William Holden, all appearing in tales well calculated. To keep you in suspense. Tonight's suspense play was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis with music composed by Lucian Waroweck and conducted by Lud Bluskin. Parts of this program were transcribed. Brave Notice was written for suspense by James Poe. Milton Verrell appeared through the courtesy of Texaco. And remember, next week on suspense, Ms. Barbara Stanwyck in the wages of S. You can buy Autolite staple batteries, Autolite standard oil resistor spark plugs, Auto light electrical parts at your neighborhood Autolite dealers. Switch to Autolite. Good night. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Autolite and its 96,000 dealers present suspense. Tonight, Autolyte brings you a suspense play of love and death in a New York penthouse. The well Dressed corpse and starring Ms. Eve Arden. Before our play begins, here is a word about Autolite from our good friend Harlow Wilcox. Hi, Mr. Wilcox. What can I do for you? Well, Sam, my friendly Autolite spark plug man, you can tell me what you think of those fresh, frisky and frolicsome ignition engineered auto light spark plug. They're tops, Mr. Wilcox. Now tell me if replacing worn out spark plugs with ignition engineered Autolite spark plugs will give a car smoother performance, quick starts, gas savings? You bet. What else would you like to know? Well, are Autolite spark plugs made by the same Autolite engineers who design coils, distributors and all the other important parts of the complete ignition system used as original factory equipment on many leading makes of our finest cars? Why, of course. Oh, and that's why we say Auto light spark plugs are ignition engineered. Designed to perform as a perfect team with your car's ignition system? Sure. Can I tell you more? Yes. Do Auto Light spark plug dealers like you replace worn out spark plugs with ignition engineered Autolite spark plugs, either standard or resistor type? Of course. But you know all about that, Mr. Wilcox. Yeah, but I just love to hear it. But you said it. And I'll say it again, because you're always right with Autolyte. And now with the well dressed corpse and the performance of Ms. Eve Arden, autolyte hopes once again to keep you in suspense, she's lying on the Couch in my office. Thought I'd just let her alone until you showed up, Captain Roark. Well, that was considerate of you, Lieutenant. Here we are inside. Are you sure that's her? I'm positive. Where was she picked up? In her bedroom. Hell's Kitchen. An alley. She lost her dress and one of the boys gave her his overcoat. What's your name? My name is Ruth Franklin. How old are you? 33. Where do you live? Pickwick Arms, on Riverside Drive. Do you drive a car? Yes. A blue convertible. Mediterranean blue. Did you go to school in this city? Graduate school, Columbia University. I went to Stanford. I work for the Carrington Green Advertising Agency. My secretary's name is Petey Wright. I'm the murderer you're looking for. Okay, I guess you're Ruth Franklin all right. I guess I can't blame you for not recognizing me. Did you know that six weeks ago I was voted one of the ten best dressed women in America? Yeah, I read something about it. I always knew that someday I would be. But when it actually happened, it was just as exciting as if it had been a total surprise. The invitation to the buffet luncheon to meet the press came on Friday. I ran right out and bought the most elegant and expensive dress I could find. And when I swept into the luncheon, everyone was looking at me, including the other nine well dressed women. Percy Hamilton of Radcliffe, a little bald headed man who moved and looked like a startled chipmunk, met me as I came in. Oh, Ms. Franklin, I'm so happy to see you. Right this way, please. You're a little late, you know. Percy, baby, you've confused me, perhaps with a debutante. I work for a living. I'm going to put you here at table 13. Oh, pardon me, Mr. Mason. That's all right. Mr. Mason, may I present Ms. Franklin. How do you do? How do you do? You two are going to be luncheon partners. Well, I. Run along. You, of course, couldn't be anyone else but the best dressed Franklin. I'm not sure I like the way you said that, Mr. Mason. My tone was not meant to imply a personal indictment, Ms. Franklin. In fact, it's a commendation. You play your part very well in this racket. Racket? Racket. Oh, I always draw the most charming luncheon partners. It was undoubtedly something in your childhood they made you wear, Buster. Brown collars or velveteen knickers. I wore dungarees. No, it's just that I have the best prima facie evidence anyone ever had that this is a travesty on good Taste and artistic judgment. Before I move to another table, Mr. Mason, I'd be utterly amused to hear one sentence telling me why you feel this way. I'd be happy to oblige. You see, I was picked as one of the best dressed men. Mr. Mason, for the first time, I'm beginning to savor the sweetness of your judgment. Well, that was the way it began. A little careless banter while we sized each other up and something in our measurements had meaning. Because despite speeches and cold chicken a la king and news photographers interfering with most of our content, we later found ourselves at the Stork Club, analyzing everything from Picasso to paper hanging. Sometime in the evening, he said he had to catch a plane somewhere, but he'd get in touch with me soon. The next morning when I walked into my office, Petey, my secretary, was wearing the smug smile of a girl who had caught her older sister with a boy on the back porch hammock. Seen it yet, boss? The gimbal lads, how were they? I can wait, all right. Seen what? The picture of you and Roy Mason. Mason? I hardly spoke a word to the man. They told me to look at him as if he'd just found a cure for the common cold. Hardly a word, huh? How'd you converse at the store? Club smoke signals with your cigarettes? Petey, you're very close to being fired. Let me read what some of the columnists say. The most handsome twosome in town last night were Ruth Franklin, the best dressed huckster, and Roy Mason. Petey, what do you know about him? I'll save you the embarrassment of asking me to get a file on him. I've already done it. Here you are, boss. The Life and Loves of Roy Mason assembled by Pete Wright. Girl. Boswell. All right, tell it. He was a war correspondent. Distinguished. He's written two books on world politics, the long road of Destruction and the coming Asiatic war. I've ordered both of them so you can talk his language. He has a weekly column and a weekly radio program. Yale, 38, unmarried. Just call me quick. Thank you and goodbye. I'll just leave these things here so you can drool over them. Have fun, Petey. Yes, boss man. You've had your fun. Now hands off. I'm going to marry him. I read those clippings through from beginning to end. And when I went home that night, I took both of Roy Mason's books with me. And the following night he called me. And then it was practically every evening and cocktails and weekends and meals and fireplaces and books and talk and Talk. I knew. And I let the papers know that Ruth Franklin finally found a man who came up to her epic requirements. I had him hooked. Now it was time to reel him in. Roy, I have some news I know you'll be interested in. You gonna run for president? Oh, no. Nothing as small as that. I'm going to get married. You're going to get what? Married. Oh. To whom? A man named Roy Mason. I just decided. Bruce, I'm sorry, I can't. I'm already engaged. Who is it, Roy? A Long island socialite, Elizabeth Granger. You know her? No, and I don't believe I'd want. Oh, Ruth, did you think we were going to be married? Of course I did. And so did every newspaper and columnist in town. I never pay any attention to the gossip columnists. Well, a lot of people do. Oh, Ruthy, now, don't take it like this. You must have known I had a life before I met you. I should have known a lot more, I guess, than I do. Ruth, don't lose your head over this. What do you expect me to do? Break down and beg you to change your mind and marry me? I'm sorry, Roy. I'll go home and read an old coward play and get over it. So that's the way it was. I'd saved myself for the one man who had what I had, brains and guts and talent. And I suddenly found out I'd saved myself for what I couldn't have. I went home, threw his books in the fire and sat down to have a long look at me. And all I found was a big, ugly hurt. Then it was light and time to go to the office. Petey. What are you doing at my desk? Hello, boss. I really didn't think you'd be in today, considering everything. Why shouldn't I be in? One of the best dressed women in America doesn't find out that her boyfriend is a wolf in best dress dress clothes every day. That's enough, Petey. Get out of here and get to work. All right, boss, but it's happened to all of us one time or another. You should have practiced when you were young. Then you'd know more about what happened to you. Listen, you brainless little typist, get out of here. Go on, get out. Okay, I'm going. But I know a good psychiatrist. He has a couch just made for people like you. You know, I could quit, too. The whole office knew about it. It pleased their tight little minds that I'd been caught off guard. Most everyone, including our three vice presidents, found Some sort of excuse to come in and see the woman who'd been taken in love. They were disappointed when they didn't find me planning a sudden trip to London or enrolling in Helena Rubinstein's charm school. But the lower echelon was even worse, especially the stenographers. They handed me those grief sharing eyes usually reserved for 16 year old girls who've been jilted by the high school fullback. But by five o'clock I swallowed two aspirin and my pride and called Roy. It had three cigarettes and two martinis. Any conversation coming up? What is it, Ruth? Newsprint, for one thing. Those nasty little black tracks on those clean sheets of white paper. They came right out and said you jilted me the same way. They came out and said we were a torrid twosome. Oh yeah, it's my fault. I'll phone them tomorrow and tell them how wrong they've been. You will not. It'd only make me look a bigger fool. Besides, they aren't the only ones. Oh, for heaven's sakes, Roy. Ask that strange looking little man to fill my glass. It's empty. Shark. Waiter. I haven't seen one person today who isn't in high glee over the whole thing. And incidentally, you look a little too smug to suit my taste right now. Ruthy, don't. Don't do this to yourself. You're too good a guy. It's easy for you to say. I wish I were in your position and you were in mine. Oh, don't you look at me that way. I'm. I'm truly sorry. It's embarrassed you. You're distressed now, but it'll pass. How can you marry someone like her? You'll be bored to death in six weeks. Let's not talk about her. What's she ever done to deserve you? Gone to a few parties? Made a trip to Europe every year. Learned how to play six hand canasta. Or maybe it's her figure, Roy. Ruth, if it's her figure, remember somebody pounds it back into shape every morning after those big nights. And if it weren't for several dozen foundation garments. Stop it, Ruth. You made a fool out of me for some grown up child who probably never did anything for herself. Servants paid to live for her. Please, you're raising your voice. People are looking. Let them look. A scene in a cocktail lounge makes good reading. And we always make the papers, don't we? Your voice. Will you keep your voice down? Why don't you go back to Asia or someplace and write Another book I hope I never see. Ruth. Ruth. Roy looked foolish shouting after me. I looked even more foolish trying to make a dignified exit through the tears. I'll leave it to me. I did a good job. I went off stage like a second lead in a little theater production the next day I didn't go to the office. I felt weak and weary and sick all over. And I didn't answer the phone until three in the afternoon. Hello, Me? Oh, trying to get you all day. What for? To tell you that we're friends, you and I. I hate like the devil to think that you really meant it when you said you never wanted to see me again. I sent you a letter last night, but I'd rather tell you what I said in person. Now, look, Ron, let me go on, will you? A man rarely meets a woman like you. I was lucky, real lucky. Ruth, you can send me away altogether if you want to, but I'd miss you for the rest of my life, and that's the truth. But you're going to marry her. Ruth, I want to talk with you calmly, decently, honestly. I want you for a friend. Mixing a couple of drinks in my apartment around 5 tonight. I hope you'll be there. All of a sudden I saw a way out of everything and I spent the next two hours getting ready for Roy. I remember I was wearing a new black crepe shirt, sheath by Dior, and my pastel mink. It was a cold night, but the air made me feel good, better than I've ever felt. I was politely late. You came. Let me take your coat, huh? It's a little chilly. I think I'll keep it on. Martini. Manhattan music, I think. Now a martini. Already had them fixed. I knew you wouldn't pass up a Mason special. You were rather certain in your pretty speech on the phone, weren't you? I meant it. And I am glad you're here, Ruth. All of that highly lacquered veneer you show. Your public is all right for them, but as for me, I'll take you the way I know you. Oh, tell me more. Underneath $40,000 a year and being the best dressed, you're quite a gal. One look told me that this amounts to a hats off conversation. Now, Ruth, we're ready to talk, you and I. Let's do it, huh? For the first time since we met, I know all about you. I know what makes you work. And I don't like that one bit. Roy. I don't like being ripped open for the public to watch. You don't Understand? Don't touch me. Ruth. Yes, it's a gun. Roy. For heaven's sake. Ruth. Ruth, stop this. You got it all wrong. Put down that gut. Get a doctor. We'll say it was an accident. Stay away from me. Phone a doctor. No. No, it wasn't supposed to be this way at all. Ruth. Ruth, I wrote you. I stood there looking down at him. He tried to talk again, but he couldn't say a word. And then, all of a sudden, he was dead. Autolite is bringing you Ms. Eve Arden in the well Dressed Corpse. Tonight's production in radio's outstanding theater of thrills suspense. Check your spark plugs, Mr. Wilcox. You sure can, Sam. Because it pays to have spark plus spark plugs checked and cleaned regularly. Helps keep a car running, right? Sure does, Mr. Wilcox. And it only takes a couple of minutes for an auto light spark plug dealer like myself. Why, when worn out spark plugs are replaced with new ignition engineered Autolite spark plugs, you'll get away in a flash for a ride that's smoother than a gigolo's line. Because you'll get smoother performance, quick starts and gas savings. He's off again. Ignition engineered Autolite spark plugs, you know, are installed right on the assembly line as original factory equipment on millions of leading makes of our finest cars and trucks. Money just can't buy better spark plugs for your car than autolite. You're right, Mr. Wilcox. So, friends, see your neighborhood Autolite spark plug dealer soon and have him replace worn out spark plugs with world famous ignition engineered Autolite spark plugs. And whether you choose the resistor type or the standard type, you can be sure you're right. Because you're always right with Autolight. And now, Autolight brings back to our Hollywood soundstage, Miss Eve Arden in Elliot Lewis production of the well Dressed Corpse. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. It hadn't occurred to me exactly what I was going to do after I had killed Roy Mason. I remember though, I finished my martini, wiped up the spilled drink and then just sat and looked at Roy lying there on the floor. Hello? Does anyone. And then I was aware of someone pounding. Hello in there. What happened? But. Hello? Oh, handsomely somebody. Hello? Hello? Is everything all right in there? Oh. Oh, hello, miss. I live in the apartment next door and I thought I heard gunshots in here. You did what? Over there. Oh, well, I better phone the police. Is there a phone? On the desk. Hello, operator? Get me the police. Yes, I said the police. Right away. There's Been a shooting. No one lifted a hand to stop me. Downstairs, I got a taxi back to my own apartment, changed, threw some things into a bag, gathered up my jewelry and. What? I took my car out of the garage and drove to the station and caught a train as far as Greenwich. There I registered under another name at a small hotel. I was going to go on up to Canada the next day, but there was something I just had to see before I left the country. So instead, I caught a train back to New York. Sergeant Collins, Homicide. Sergeant, I wonder if you could give me some information. I'll try, miss. I'm from the Kansas City Star. I happen to be on vacation in New York. But as long as I'm here, I'm trying to cover the Mason case. Yeah, well, has Mr. Mason been buried yet, or do you. Edge Flower Mortuary. Rosary tonight, burial tomorrow. Thank you, Siren. Sergeant. I was at the Edge Flower early, waiting across the street. It was cold and blustery, but I wanted to see her walk in. I wanted to see how well she could take it. But Elizabeth Granger didn't appear at his rosary the next morning. I wore dark glasses and a veil. I went to his funeral, but she didn't. Hello, Petey. I've been waiting for you, boss. Don't you know the police are looking all over town for you? Petey, who is Elizabeth Granger? Where does she live? Oh, that's. She isn't in the phone book. She wasn't at his funeral. There are no pictures of her in the papers. You know these things. Tell me, please. I can't help you. Nobody can help you now. You're a walking dead woman. Petey, listen to me. I don't want to listen to you. I'm afraid to. I'm afraid I'll end up like you someday. Well fed, well dressed, successful, well known. But dead. I came here for help, not to listen to your opinions. Everything you ever said in your life was a lie. I did your legwork, looked up things for you, verified them, checked them. Well, I checked about you just to satisfy my curiosity. You didn't go to Stanford or graduate school at Columbia. You were born and brought up in Hell's Kitchen. You went as far as PS432. You hated everything you had and were, and you tried to wipe it out. Petey, you must know. Tell me about Elizabeth Granger. I'll tell you this much. You're not gonna have the pleasure of watching her suffer along with you. You know why? Because Roy Mason wrote you a letter that came this Morning. I read it because I never thought I'd see you again. Do you want to know what's in it? Yes, please. It makes you look ten times as foolish as you do even now. He said that there was no such preacher as Elizabeth Granger. You're lying. He just invented her. Just invented her to get away from you. You're lying. There has to be an Elizabeth Granger. Here's a letter. Look for yourself. It was true, every word of it. There was no Elizabeth Granger. Roy just didn't want me and had to find some excuse. I walked to the door, wondering what to do, where to go. One more thing, boss. 10 seconds after you're out that door, I'm gonna call the police. I didn't answer or look back. I just ran out of the apartment house and found and had him drive me around and around, through streets and down streets and across streets. I scarcely even saw policemen or people. Finally, I left the cab and began walking around trying to understand myself and why I'd killed Roy. And everything that came out of my mind revolted me. I wanted to drink. A dozen drinks, a hundred drinks. You sure you're in the right place, lady? Just give me a double bourbon, Scotch, Triple. I don't care. Well, you're old enough. Hurry it up. Here's my money. Hey, Eddie, get a load of the Dow. How about what? Any dame dressed like that come into a place like this, slamming. What are you, stupid or something? I like to come down where life is rough, where men are men. I seen lots of them my day. Looking for thrills? Yeah. Yeah. What do you think she came in here for? Thought it was the White House or something. Oh, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. I'll show you how to handle a doll like that. Buy your drink, ma'am, huh? No. Get away from me. Oh, now, you don't really mean that, Tony. The drink's on me. Why don't we have it in the booth over here? We can talk, huh? Get away from me. Who do you think you are? All right, Eddie. No. Stale. What does she think she is, anyway? She's got no right in here unless she wants to be sociable. She's a bum and you know it, Tony. Eddie, can't you see this as a lady? Now, go for a walk, lady. Since when we had ladies in here? Give me the drink, bartender. Hey, wait a minute, you cheap little bum. Hey, Eddie, That D. Her picture was in the paper this morning. She killed somebody. I ran out of there. It was only a matter of seconds until they Called the police. So I just ran. I saw a police car and I ran the other way. Two blocks away, there was another police car at the intersection. I found an alley and ran down and fell headlong over a garbage can into the dirty, foul snow. I couldn't get up, and I cried cold tears. Come on, dearie. Come on. What are you doing? You won't need this coat where you're going. Leave my coat alone. That's all right, dearie. That's all right. Come on. The dress now. My dress, Ruby. Help me get it off. You can't take my dress off me. I can use a fancy dress like that, and you can't wear it in jail. Now tear it off you if I have to. Come here. No, please. You can't. All right, here you are. Grab her. Shoes will be in. Let go. My dress. That took my dress. Okay, every. Now, lady. You let them do it. Why did you let them do it? We'll get them Now. Come on. Lift up your head. I gotta see you. Oh, don't hurt me, please. I'm Somebody. Yeah, that's what I thought. Ruth Franklin. I'm Somebody. I'm somebody. Suspense Presented by autolite. Tonight's star, Ms. Eve Arden. Hey, Sam D. Dust my windshield, will you? I can write my name on it. You can write too, Mr. Wilcox. Can I write? Why I blister blackboards. Writing about the over 400 products made by Autolite for cars, trucks, planes and boats in 28 plants from coast to coast. These include complete ignition systems used as original factory equipment on many leading makes of America's finest cars. Generators, coils, distributors, electric windshield wipers, voltage regulators, wire and cable starting motors, all engineered to fit together perfectly, work together perfectly because they're part of the Autolite team. So, friends, don't accept electrical parts supposed to be as good. Ask for and insist on original factory parts at your neighborhood service station, car dealer, garage or repair shop. And because all Autolite parts are original factory parts, you can be sure you're always right with Autolight. Next week on Suspense, the appearance of the distinguished star of the New York stage in the Metropolitan Opera, Mr. Ezio Pinza in Aria from Murder. In the weeks to follow, we will present such famous stars as Paul Douglas. Then, in one of his infrequent radio appearances, Fred McMurray. To be followed by the first lady of suspense, Ms. Agnes Moorhead. All appearing in tales well calculated to keep you in suspense. Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis, with music composed by Lucian Morowek and conducted by Lud Bluskin. The well Dressed Corpse was written for suspense by E. Jack Newman and John Michael Hayes. Eve Arden appeared through the courtesy of the Colgate Palmale Fleet Company, sponsors of our Ms. Brooks. And remember, next week on suspense, Mr. Ezio Pinzon in a tale of jealousy and hate on the stage of a deserted opera house, a story which we call Aria from Murder. You can buy world famous Autolite resistor type or standard type spark plugs, Autolite staple batteries, Autolite electrical parts at your neighborhood Autolite dealers. Switch to Autolite. Good night. Winter driving calls for safer driving. The National Safety Council urges you to winterize your driving as well as your car. Keep the windshield clear, keep a safe distance from the car ahead and pump your brakes. Don't slam them. Be careful and don't skid yourself into trouble this winter. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. We just heard the two perfect alibi, Backseat Driver, Death has a Shadow Rave notice and the well Dressed Corpse. That will do. Do it for this bonus episode. Thanks so much for joining me. I'll be back on Thursday with our next regular show where we'll hear some old time radio thrillers starring John Hodiak. And in the weeks to come, we'll hear George Murphy, John Dana, Reginald Gardner and the best suspense shows starring Charles Lauden. In the meantime, you can check out down these Mean Streets, my old time radio detective podcast. New episodes of that show are out every Sunday. Now, good night until Thursday when we'll hear John Hodiak in More Tales well calculated to keep you in suspense. Ladies and gentlemen, the chief hope of our enemies is to divide the United States along racial and religious lines and thereby conquer us. Let's not spread prejudice. A divided America is a weak America. Through our behavior, we encourage the respect of our children and make them better neighbors to all races and religions. Remind them that being good neighbors has helped make our country great and kept her free. Thank you.