← Stars on Suspense (Old Time Radio)
Stars on Suspense (Old Time Radio)
Episode 407 - Berry Kroeger
02:02:54
In the earliest days of Suspense, Berry Kroeger introduced each week's story as the "Man in Black." Years later, this talented and versatile actor would step into starring roles on "radio's outstanding theatre of thrills." We'll hear him in an...
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Robert Montgomery
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. With another Hollywood legend in radio's outstanding theater of thrills. Our leading man this week is Barry Kroger. A character actor of the stage and screen who has a unique connection to suspense. A master of dialects and accents, Kroger could play nearly any kind of role on the air. From heroes to villains. From suave, sophisticated socialites to sneering gangsters. And he could be heard all over the dial on shows like the Shadow, Inner Sanctum and Murder at Midnight. He played villains in movies like act of Violence, Cry of the City and Gun Crazy. And he popped up on the small screen in Get Smart, the Man From UNCLE And Perry Mason, just to name a few. But Kroger is particularly important in the history of suspense. In the early days of the program, Kroger acted as the show's announcer, the voice of the man in black who introduced each week's tale. Suspense. Columbia's play theater of outstanding thrillers. Produced and directed by William Speer and scored by Bernard Herrmann. The notable melodramas from fiction and stage and screen, from the world's great literature of entertaining excitement, presented each week to bring you to the edge of your chair to keep you in suspense. In addition to acting as the announcer, Kroger also appeared in supporting roles on Suspense. In fact, he's in one of my all time favorite episodes, A Little Piece of Rope, where he stars alongside Lucille Ball. If you haven't heard that and want to give it a listen, I just featured it a few weeks ago on our 400th episode. Kroger also made a few starring appearances on the program. Today we'll hear both of them along with some of his other old time radio work. First up is August Heat, an adaptation of the short story by W.F. harvey. Barry Kroeger stars in this production that aired as part of an hour long suspense double feature on March 20, 1948. The first half of the show adapted John Collier's Wet Saturday with Dennis Hoey. And the back half consisted of August Heat. This episode aired during the brief period in early 1948 when suspense aired in an hour long format. A run that usually produced subpar episodes. Shows that suffered from padding to get stories up to an hour. But fortunately this installment produced two 30 minute stories and neither had to be stretched out with filler. Since Mr. Kroger only appears in the second story, we'll save Wet Saturday for another time and enjoy August Heat, the strange story of two men, a chance encounter, and the foreboding sense that one of them will soon be dead at the other's hand. Then, from July 20, 1958, Barry Kroger stars in It's all in your mind, a rare science fiction story from suspense. We'll hear an Armed Forces Radio Service rebroadcast of this episode that casts Kroger as a man plotting the murder of his own best friend so he can marry his friend's wife. But the friend also happens to be a scientist who's testing out a pill to give people the power of telepathy. And he wants Kroger to be a guinea pig. It sounds like a ridiculous idea until Kroger begins to hear the thoughts of people around him. I don't know if this episode is entirely successful, but the premise is pretty good and Kroger is great. Great as a would be murderer who may have developed psychic powers. Plus, it's an example of a genre rarely explored on suspense. And for those reasons, I think it's worth a listen. And we'll close with two more old time radio performances from Barry Kroger. First, he stars in Eight Steps to Murder, a story from Inner Sanctum Mysteries. It originally aired on CBS on June 4th 4th, 1946. Then he stars in Confidential Agent, a tale of wartime espionage adapted from a story by Graham Greene and dramatized on Escape in an episode from April 2, 1949. But first, we'll take a walk on a hot August day with Barry Kroger, and we'll get underway right after these messages. This is the cold season. What do medical authorities say about the common cold? Doctors tell us there's no known drug which will cure a cold. There are effective medications for treating complications accompanying or following a cold. If you've been taking sensible precautions and still have one cold after another, it's best to see your doctor. And here's another important health tip. When you have a cold and need a laxative, that's the time to rely on gentle Ex Lax. Pleasant tasting chocolated Ex Lax helps you towards your normal regularity. Gently overnight. Exlax gets along with any cold remedies you may be taking. And Exlax works where nature wants in the lower tract, not the stomach. Taken at bedtime, Ex Lax won't disturb sleep, gives you the closest thing to natural action. The next morning you're well on your way towards your normal regularity without upset or discomfort. So when you have a cold and need a laxative, take XLax, the laxative you can use with complete confidence. Ex Lax helps you towards your normal regularity gently overnight. Ex Lax. Do you like rich delicious chocolate flavored malteds? Well, you can make a malted just like that right in your own kitchen with Kraft chocolate flavored malted milk. Just make a tasty paste of craft chocolate flavored malted milk and a little milk in the bottom of a big glass. Fill the glass with chilled milk, stir it once more and there. A craft malted is mighty nourishing too because it's filled with all the food values in milk. Get a jar of craft chocolate flavored malted milk from your grocer and enjoy a craft malted off tomorrow at the beginning of another weekend. Two whole days to relax and have fun. You'll be planning picnics and backyard barbecues. Just be sure there's plenty of Paft Blue Ribbon cooling in your icebox tomorrow morning. Ask your dealer for a case in cans or bottles. Pabst Blue Ribbon is the finest beer served anywhere. Your taste will tell you why. And now a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. This, then, is August Heat, the second of two suspense dramas complete in this hour. And now, with the performance of Barry Kroger as James Clarence Withencroft and the reappearance of Dennis Hoey as the man. And with W.F. harvey's August heat, we promise a narrative well calculated to keep you in suspend. Fenistone Road, Clapham, August 20, 1947. I have had what I believe to be the most remarkable day in my life. And while the events are still fresh in my mind, I wish to put them down on paper as clearly as possible. Let me say at the outset that my name is James Clarence Withencroft. You must remember that in order to have the full implication of my story. James Clarence Withencroft. I'm 35 years old, in perfect health, never having known a day's illness. By profession I'm an artist, not a very successful one, but I earn enough money by my black and white white work to satisfy my necessary wants. My only near relative, a sister, died five years ago, so that there is no one in particular to whom I address this manuscript, only you who might by chance read it someday. For because of the peculiar circumstance about which you will soon hear, I have the strong Premonition that I shall never live to tell anyone about it. I breakfasted this morning at 9 at the usual time. It was no different from any other morning, and after glancing through the morning paper, I lighted my pipe. I proceeded to let my mind wander in the hope that I might chance upon some subject for my pencil. The room, though door and window were open, was oppressively hot. And I just made up my mind that the coolest and most comfortable place in the neighborhood would be the deep end of the public swimming bath. When. When I. I was suddenly shaken, a feeling swept over me such as I'd never experienced before. I attempted to rise to my feet. Somehow it seemed as though I'd suddenly been fastened to my chair. My hand went out in an effort to brace myself. And then, before I knew what I was doing, my pencil was in my hand and I began to draw. It was as though someone had taken my hand and was moving it across the paper swiftly, in bold strokes. Then I seemed to take over. My hand under its own power, began to draw. So intent was I on the sketch which began to appear before me. I soon forgot the oppressive heat, the roughness of the table. Everything was forgotten. This frantic feeling the sketch must be finished as soon as possible. I had no idea how long I worked until I heard the clock of St. Jude's in the distance. It was 4:00, and I had started just after breakfast. Now, for the first time since I'd begun, I actually seemed to see what I'd been sketching. I was surprised. The final result was, I felt sure, the best thing I'd ever done. It showed a criminal in the dark, immediately after the judge had pronounced sentence. The man was fat, enormously fat. The flesh hung in rolls about his chin. It creased his huge, stumpy neck. He was clean shaven, perhaps, I should say, a few days before. He must have been clean shaven. And he was almost bald. He stood there before the judge, his short, clumsy fingers clasping the rail, looking straight in front of him. The feeling that his expression conveyed was not so much one of horror as of utter, absolute collapse. There seemed nothing in the man strong enough to sustain that mountain of flesh. And then I saw that the sketch was not complete, for the man's other hand seemed to be clutching an instrument of some kind, a weapon, but had not been completed. I had made this sketch yet I had no recollection of what I'd intended the man to carry in his other hand. I took my pencil again and I attempted to fill in the fuzzy outline it was useless. It was as though my fingers had suddenly turned to lead. I sat down. I felt the moisture slowly forming on my forehead. And I was conscious of the oppressive heat again. And then I knew that there would be no finishing of the sketch at any rate not for the moment. So I rolled up the sketch and without quite knowing why, I placed it in my pocket. In spite of my peculiar inspiration, I was filled with the rare sense of happiness which the knowledge of a good thing well done gives. I believe that I set out with the idea of calling upon Trenton. For I remember walking along Lytton street and turning to the right along Gilchrist Road at the bottom of the hill where the men were at work on the new tram lines. From there onward, I have only the vaguest recollection of where I went. Through parks, along crowded streets, always fully conscious of the awful heat that came up from the dusty asphalt pavement as an almost palpable wave. And I remembered, too, the hollow sound of my footsteps as I moved along. Although walking aimlessly, I somehow knew that there was a goal, something to which I was drawn. I longed for the thunder promised by the great banks of copper colored clouds that hung low over the western sky. I must have walked five or six miles. I've really no idea how far I walked when a small boy roused me from reverie. What the time, mister? 20 minutes to 7. Thanks. Hot, isn't it? Yes. When he left me, I began to take stock of my bearings. I found myself standing before a gate that led into a yard bordered by a strip of thirsty earth. There were flowers, purple stalks and scarlet geranium. And great numbers of bees droned over them. I stood looking down at them a moment. Then for some reason, I looked up over the entrance to the place. There was a board with the inscription, Charles Atkinson, monumental mason, worker in English and Italian marble. From the yard itself came a chilly whistle. The noise of hammer blows and the cold sound of steel meeting stone. A sudden impulse made me enter, and I went in the direction of the noise. There was a man sitting with his back towards me. He was busy at work on a slab of curiously veined marble. He was not conscious of my presence as I stood there watching him for some time. Then, without turning, his hammer stopped in midair. As he was about to bring it down on his chisel, he looked up and then he held his position a moment before turning. But I knew that he was aware of my presence. And when he turned, I saw his face. It was. Although I had never seen him before, it was the face of the man I'd been drawing? Yes. It was the face of the man who. Whose sketch was in my pocket. He sat there on his low stool, huge and elephantine, the sweat pouring from his scalp, not speaking. Then he took a red silk handkerchief and he mopped his brow. Although this face that looked up at me was the same as my sketch, the expression was absolutely different. And suddenly the puzzled expression left his face and he smiled as if we were old friends. And he walked over and he took my hand. Good day, sir. Good day. I'm sorry to intrude. Not at all. Everything's hot and glary outside this seems there's an oasis in the wilderness. I don't know about the oasis, but it certainly is hot. Take a seat, sir. He pointed to the end of the gravestone on which he was at work, and I sat down. Very hot. That's a beautiful piece of stone you've got hold of there. In a way it is. The surface is as fine as anything you could wish. But there's a big floor at the back, though I don't expect you'd ever notice it. I shouldn't think so. Ah, I could never really make a good job of a bit of marble like this. Be all right in the summer right now. Wouldn't mind a blasted heat. But wait till the winter comes. Winter? Yes. There's nothing like a bit of fuss to find out the weak points in stone. Gravestone, you see. Oh, I see. Then what's this one for? You'd hardly believe me if I was to tell you it's for exhibition. But it's the truth. Artists have exhibitions. So do grocers and butchers. Well, we as em. Do all the latest little headstones, you know. He went on to talk of marbles. Which sort of marble best withstood wind and rain and which were easiest to work then of his garden and new sort of carnation he'd bought. At the end of every other minute he would drop his tools, wipe his shining head. This, eat this, eat bad. A man's not responsible for what he does. In this heat I said little, for I felt uneasy. There was something unnatural, uncanny in all of this. The feeling that I'd experienced it all before, exactly as I was experiencing it now. The oppressive heat, the fragrance of the purple stock in the air, the conversation about the marble, the flowers, everything. As though I'd experienced it before. And yet I knew that I'd never even been in this settlement of the town before. I tried to persuade myself that at least I'D seen him before. That his face, unknown to me had found a place in some out of the way corner of my memory. But I knew that I was practicing little more than a plausible piece of self deception. As I sat there quietly watching him, he looked up at me and he said, yeah, what do you think of that? He said it with an air of evident pride of a job well done. I could sense that he was experiencing the same feeling I had experienced when I'd finished my sketch. Then he got up with a sigh of relief. What? What ain't it? I was seated in such a position that I was unable to see his work. And for some reason I didn't move. Suddenly he. He began to read what he'd carved on the tombstone. He spoke deliberately and with a flat voice. In the midst of life, we are in death. Born January 18, 1912. I looked up with a start. This man had read my exact birth date. He passed away very suddenly on August 20, 1947. That's today. I usually use the present date on these exhibition stones. Do you usually put a name on them too? Yes. Sacred to the memory of James Clarence Wyverncroft. I just sat there in silence. The sound of birds and crickets seemed loud in my ears as we stood there looking at each other, saying nothing. And then he mopped his brow again. Ot what? I was finally able to speak. Where. Where did you see that name? I didn't see it anywhere. I wanted some name and I put down the first one that came into me head. It's a strange coincidence, but it happens to be mine. That's your name. You're James Clarence Withencraft. Yes. Well. And the dates? I can only answer for the birth date. It's correct. It's. It's a run go. I. I made a sketch this morning of you. Of me? What, you've never seen me before? No. Oh. I took my sketch from my pocket and I showed it to him. As he looked, the expression on his face altered until it became more and more like that of the man I had drawn. It was only the day before yesterday, but I told Maria there was no such things as ghosts. Neither of us had seen a ghost, but I knew what he meant. Then I spoke to him. You probably heard my name someplace. Yes. You must have seen me somewhere and forgotten it. Yes. Were you at Clacton on sea last July? No. Now. I've never been to Clacton in my life. Then we were silent for some time again. And we stood there looking at one another and at the Two dates on the gravestone and the birth. One was right and the other was today. Come inside and have some supper. His wife was a strange little woman who was pallid with the look of those who live their lives indoors. Her husband introduced me as a friend of his who was an artist and informed her that I was staying to supper. I spoke, making some comment that I hoped I would not be an intrusion, and she looked up at me. She said, you have a pleasing voice, Mr. Wythencroft, and you're welcome in my home. I'm sorry Charles has not brought you here before. Very little was said during the meal. And after the sardines and watercress had been removed, she walked over to a cupboard. She took down a thin black book, and as she handed it to me, she spoke. Would you read aloud, Mr. Wythencroft? Puzzled, I looked down at the book which she'd opened and placed before me. It was a very tiny book. The Prophet, it was called by an author unknown to me, with a strange Eastern name, Khalil Gibran. My eyes fell across the page, and suddenly I was reading aloud as she'd asked me to. Then Almitra spoke, saying we would ask now of death. And he said, you would know the secret of death, but how shall you find it unless you seek it? In the heart of life. The owl whose night bound eyes are blind unto the day, cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond. And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king, whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling that he shall wear the mark of the king? Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling? For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? Only when you drink from the river of Silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountaintop, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. When I looked up Mr. Atkinson had gone. But his wife stood before me and as she took the book, she spoke. Thank you. Then I went outside and I found Atkinson sitting on the gravestone and smoking. He looked up at me. He's hot. Hot. A man's not responsible for what he might do in this heat. Hey. She never asked anyone to read aloud before. And then we talked about the sketch again. He looked at it. Likenesses me all right. On trial. You must excuse my asking, but do you know of anything you've done for which you could be put on trial? Yes. Done nothing? Not yet. He got up, fetched a can from the porch, and he began to water the flowers twice a day, regular in the hot weather. And then the heat sometimes gets the better of the delicate ones. And ferns. Good Lord, they could never stand it. Where do you live? I told him my address. It would take an hour's quick walk to get back home. Then he stopped watering and he faced me squarely. It's like this. We look at the matter straight. If you go home tonight, you take your chance of accidents. A cart may run over you. Always banana skins and orange peels. To say nothing of falling letters. He spoke of the improbability with an intense seriousness that would have been laughable six hours before. But I did not laugh. The best thing we can do is for you to stay here till 12 o'clock. Then it'll be tomorrow, d'ye see? We'll go upstairs and smoke. It may be cool out inside. To my surprise, I agreed. We are sitting in a long, low room beneath the eaves. Atkinson has sent his wife to bed. He himself is busy sharpening some tools and a little oil stone, smoking one of my cigars the while. And as I look at my sketch before me, I suddenly see the fuzzy outline of what the man in the picture holds in his hands. While I had not been able to sketch it before, I am able to do so now. It is a chisel. It is stained with dark liquid. The sketch is completed Now. The air seems charged with thunder and I hear it in the distance. It is ominous, but it carries the hope of rain. Perhaps this damnable heat will be broken soon and the day will soon be over. It is close to 12. In seconds, the day will be over. I am writing this at a shaky table before the open window. The leg is cracked and Atkinson, who seems a handyman with his tools, is going to mend it as soon as he has finished putting an edge on his chisel. There it is. 12 is over and I shall be going home. But the heat is stifling. This heat is enough to send a man mad. This is Robert Montgomery again with thanks to Barry Kroger and Dennis Hoey for superb performances in August Heat. And to Mel danelli, who adopted W.F. harvey's story. Our appreciation and our applause too go goes to the cast of both plays who made our weather experiments so very successful. Next week we'll turn a full hour's attention again to the English scene. And to Emlyn Williams. Great play, Night Must fall. You'll meet Mrs. Bramson, Olivia Grain and Hubert Laurie. And you'll meet Danny. Danny with the quick smile. Happy, cheerful Danny whose appearance is as pleasant as the melody that's always with him. Mighty like a rose. That's Danny. Yes, that's Danny. Next week with Dame May, witty Heather Angel, Richard Ney and myself. And with Night Must Fall, we'll again hope to keep you in suspense. Good night. Mr. Montgomery may currently be seen in the Universal International production. Ride the Pink Horse. Wet Saturday by John Collier was adapted for suspense by Harold Medford. August Heat by W.F. harvey was adapted for suspense by Mel Danielli. Both were directed by Anton M. Leider and produced by Robert Montgomery. Lud Gluskin is our musical director and conductor. And Lucian Marowak composes the original scores. Next week here Night Must Fall, starring Robert Montgomery with Dame May, witty Heather angel and Richard Ney. On radio's outstanding Theater of Thrills. One hour of suspend a program you won't want to miss. That's Report Card. The next production of the famed CBS documentary unit. Overcrowded schools, out of date equipment and a shortage of trained teachers. All of these are contributing to a breakdown in American education for a dramatic report here. Report card, Wednesday, March 24th. Over many of these stations. This is CBS, where 99 million people gather every week. The Columbia Broadcasting System. Suspense. And the producer of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, the master of mystery and adventure, William N. Robeson. Back in the early days of suspense, more than a decade ago, we would not have dared present the story you were about to hear. You would have said it was implausible, too far fetched. But a lot of things that we thought never could happen are commonplace in this age of flying saucers and satellites. The fantasies of yesterday's science fiction writers are today's humdrum household realities. It's a long way from the family doctor's sugar coated pill to the psychiatrist's Rawulfia capsule. And tomorrow's pharmacology holds for us miracles yet undreamt of our story concerns one of these wonder drugs, which, who knows, may even now be in the experimental laboratory stage. Listen, listen. Then, as Barry Kroger stars in it's all in youn Mind, which begins in just a moment, another visit with Joe and Daphne Forsyth. Joe, Joe. Joe, stop reading that paper and talk to me. I'm listening. Go ahead. Well, I was talking to Mrs. Snider today. You know, she's the one whose boy had 31% less cavities. Uh huh. Well, she thinks that we should buy bigger savings bonds. Uh huh. She says that when people can afford it, it makes more sense. Oh, she says there are a lot of different denominations. They start at $25, but then there are 50, 100, 200 and even $500 bonds. Is that so? And then with the ones we've already bought through the payroll Savings Plan, we'd have quite a nest egg. Uh huh. Are you listening to me? Uh huh. Did you know that the total accumulated compounded semiannual interest of the Series E Savings Bond will amount to 93 and a third percent of the original purchasing price? Uh huh. I thought so. Joe, what did I say? You said that United States Savings Bonds are a safe, easy way of investing. I did? That they help guard our country's freedom and they're the best investment in America's future. I said something else, too. Oh, yeah. You said that the total accumulated compounded semiannual interest of the Series E Savings Bond will amount to 93 1/3% of the original purchase price. Well, now, how did you do that? Husband's trade secret. And now it's all in your mind. Starring Barry Kroger. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. For some time, I'd had the feeling that our three lives, the Laramies and mine, were on a collision course. If we went on this way, one of us was sure to get hurt. Perhaps all of us. But I couldn't stop. This evening, as I arrived at their house, I felt a strange reluctance to go in an ominous certainty that the crash was close. Jack, darling. Hello, Anne. Guess I'm a bit late. Oh, it's all right. Howard was late getting home too. He's upstairs changing. Oh. How about mixing us a drink? Sure. How is Howard? How is he ever. Mm. New dress? Mm. You like? It's exciting. You're exciting. Mrs. Laramie. Anne, darling. Oh, there you are, Jack. I thought I heard. Hi, Howard. Sorry I'm late. Oh, I was late myself. Jack, tonight I have something really big to celebrate. What happened? The company made You a vice president? Oh, better than that. Remember the experiment I told you about last month? Which one? You keep so many going at once. The mental telepathy drug. Here they are. You. You mean you've really done it? Mm. Those are your do it yourself telepathy pills? You might put it that way. When absorbed into the bloodstream and carried to the brain, the chemical in these capsules sensitizes the brain to the thought waves of others, just as the flick of a switch tunes a radio set to a broadcast. Have you tested these pills, Howard? Well, no. No, not completely. That's why I brought these first two home. I'm gonna take one, and the other is for you. For me? Why me? Howard, this could be dangerous. Oh, nonsense, Anne. It's perfectly safe. I've tested the pills on animals. They're absolutely harmless. Plus, a monkey can't tell me whether it's reading my mind. For that, I need a human being. It sounds pretty risky, tinkering with a brain. Why, I dare say you've often tinkered with yours. Oh, not me. I stay away from black magic. Ever take a sleeping pill? Yes, but. Tranquilizer? Oh, a couple of times. Well, you see. But, Howard, reading people's minds? Why not? Jack, Duke University's experiments have established telepathy as a fact. Some people can read the minds of others. I guess so. I don't see how. Take this capsule and you will. You're sure it'll be all right? Jack, would I subject my best friend to a test if I thought it was dangerous? Anyway, I have an antidote prepared just in case. Jack, please don't. Besides, I'm taking one myself. Well, Jack, might as well give it a try. That's the spirit. All right, bottoms up. Well, Howard, this is insane. No telling what it might do to Jack. Oh, how about me? I've taken one. Oh, I didn't mean. Jack, how do you feel? You notice anything? No. What should I notice? Well, if the capsules do what I think they will, you will be aware of our thoughts. I'm sorry, Howard. I don't get anything like that. Of course. I'm forgetting. It'll take some time for the chemical to reach the brain. Look, why don't you two go ahead and have dinner, and I'll go back to the lab and prepare equipment for the test. And you needn't come down for an hour or so. You mean I've got to take some tests? Well, naturally. Just a few controlled experiments. It won't take long. Howard, dinner's almost ready. Science is more important than dinner, my dear. An hour. All right, Jack. Well, okay. Too bad playing with pills isn't grounds for divorce. Darling, are you sure you're all right? All right? I feel wonderful. We have got a whole hour alone together. Music. Let there be music. Will you dance, madame? I'd rather kiss. Oh, Jack. I never knew what a kiss was before you. Darling, when I'm in your arms, it makes me remember I'm a woman. I come alive all over. I know. I know, darling. Kiss me again. Oh, darling, I can't go on like this. It's unbearable. Have you asked him for a divorce? No. Why not? You promised. Oh, it's no use, Jack. I know he'd never agree to it. It's too stuffy. Besides, it'd be bad for his career. This is insane. Three adult people should be able to work this out logically. Reduced to its simplest equation, three people are one too many. One must go. Go. One must go. Yes, one must go. Meanwhile, here at home, in the latest of a series of dope tests, a large drug and research and listen. Was robbed early this morning of nearly $50,000 worth of narcotics. Police Chief Hayes assigned 10 extra officers. That's it. What do you mean? That's what? Howard is working tonight. Alone. What if something happened to him and it looked like another dope robbery? What if something. If he got in the way of the burglars, they'd have to kill him, wouldn't they? Why, yes, of course they would. They'd have to kill him. In a moment, we continue with the second act of suspense. Memo on medals Information about our military awards and decorations. The awarding of American medals had its beginning during the Revolutionary War. Certain military and naval commanders were presented gold medals to commemorate their victories. The first medal in our nation's history was given to General George Washington after he had forced the British to evacuate Boston. That medal is now in the Boston Public Library, where it was placed on exhibit in 1876, 100 years after the historic event it commemorates. Technically, early medals were not decorations in the strictest sense. They honored both a victorious event and the officer in charge. Also, they were not designed to be worn as later medals were. Therefore, they were presented in a suitable case for safekeeping. What we now know as the Purple Heart medal was originally a badge of cloth, material specified in Washington's establishing order to be a figure of a heart in purple cloth or silk, edged with narrow lace or binding. Foreign decorations and medals are worn to the left of all American decorations. They are never worn alone. But must appear with at least one American medal. Few tributes are as meaningful and as cherished as the awards and decorations of our armed forces. And now, starring Barry Kroeger, Act 2 of It's all in your Mind. It was after 11 when I got to the Murdoch laboratories down by the waterfront, where the damp air smells of salt and sewage and dead fish. Looking up through the fog, I saw a light on the third floor, the window of the lab. For a moment, I thought I would be sick, but it passed, and I clutched at the gun in my pocket. I climbed quietly up the stairs and entered the lab. That you, Jack? Yeah. Ready for the tests? No, no, not quite. You sit right there. I'll be with you in a moment. As Howard puttered, I casually questioned him and learned that the lab's supply of narcotics was kept in a locked cabinet in the next room. The setup was perfect. The police would find the dope missing and Howard dead. The gun felt cold as my fingers closed on the butt. I would have sworn, Howard. For a moment, I could have sworn I heard you whispering. But I was watching your lips, and they didn't move. What? It's beginning to work. Then success. Real success. At last, a milestone in science. Can you get my thoughts, Jack? Must. Concentrate. Make it easier for him. Do you read me, Jack? Yes. Yes, I do. I can read your mind. The capsule works. You're telepathic. It was mad. Insane. I could read his mind. I stared at Howard as he bent over his notes. And then it came to me. If I could read his mind, he could read mine. Jack, I got it. I got that you're thinking. I can read your thoughts. I can. My God, he's doing it. I am. He knows I'm going to kill him. Kill. Kill. What are you thinking, Jack? What's the matter? Has something gone wrong on the drug? Why do you want to kill me? Jack, I've got to hurry. Don't give him a chance. He's mad. He's going to kill me. But he's my best friend. Howard, stop in the lab next door. I broke open the cabinet and cleaned it out, emptied everything into Howard's briefcase and quietly left the building. Along the wharf outside, I slipped the case and the gun into the water. The tide was going out. In an hour, they would be lost forever. Then I drove back to my apartment. Killing Howard had unnerved me, but the telepathy experience was worse. It shocked me again. As I walked across the lobby, a flood of thoughts reached out for me, clamoring to be heard Tumbling over and over each other like. Like ants in my mind. The barrage confused me. It was difficult to think. I hurried to my room. It's eerie, knowing all those people's thoughts. Call Ann in the morning. Probably not safe now. Now I'll know all her thoughts. All of anybody's thoughts. Can do anything, get anything better. Try to get some sleep. I'm tired. So t. Huh? What's that? I can't move. Can't move. Can't get away. What the. What's going on? Oh. Who could that be? Oh, the guy next door. A nervous little fellow. Oh, no. Must I dream other people's nightmares too? In a moment. We continue with the third act of suspense. We have together ample capacity in freedom to defend freedom. This is NATO, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. Day after day, month after month, since April 4, 1949, the activities of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization have moved steadily forward on many fronts. This complete cooperation must and will continue because the concept of national self sufficiency is out of date. Countries of the free world are interdependent and only in genuine partnership. And by combining their resources sharing tasks in many fields can progress and safety be found. The United States of America is a part of NATO. You should be aware of and alert to the objectives and programs of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. And now, starring Barry Kroger act three of it's all in your mind. When the alarm went off at seven, I was still tired. The nightmares of the guy next door had kept us both awake half the night. I realized that I couldn't take much more of other people's thoughts. I needed the antidote. Ann would know where Howard kept it. Wonderful thing, telepathy, Howard had said. Too bad he didn't live long enough. He'd have learned. It's like living in a madhouse. Hello, Anne. Oh, Jack, darling. Everything all right? Of course. Yes. The police were here. They've gone? Yes. They're convinced it was the dope gang. Good. Coming over? Isn't that dangerous? I'll decide that. Jack, you've never used that tone before. I've never felt like this before. What's wrong? I'll tell you when I get there. She wondered what was wrong. Let her live other people's nightmares and she'd find out soon enough. Suddenly I realized that Anne's thoughts hadn't come to me over the phone. And I remembered Howard saying something about the effect diminishing with distance. That I'd have to be near people to pick up their thoughts. But I kept hoping that the Drug had worn off during the night. The instant I stepped into the apartment lobby, I found out. Good morning, Mr. Benton. Hi, Joe. Got a morning paper left? Yeah, sure, Mr. Benton. Read all about the big dope murder. Man, what a night, this church. What did you say? Oh, you're looking great today, Mr. Benton. You got a big deal on. Was I talking out a lot? Why, you. What's the matter, Mr. Benton? Forget it. I'm in a hurry. He acts like he knew what I was thinking. Boy, it's a good thing he doesn't on the street. I stopped, looked back at Joe. He was still staring after me. Got to watch it. Almost gave myself away. Used to wish I knew what people were thinking. What an advantage I'd have. Can't keep this up. I need the antidote. I couldn't stand listening to other people's troubles, their gripes, complaints, psychotic hates, the evil and fear that spawned in the minds of men. It was almost like a punishment, like retribution. I couldn't shut out the thoughts. They were all around me. By the time I slammed the door at Anne's, I knew I couldn't face them again. Anne. Ann. Help me. Jack. You shouldn't have come here. Now, the police. You've got to help me, Anne. Help you? What's wrong? Does anyone know? No. No. It's the pill. It worked. It worked. The pill. The telepathy drug. Could it have worked? Is he sick? Sit down, darling. I don't want to sit down. Just help me get rid of these thoughts, these voices. He doesn't know what he's saying. He's losing his mind. I'm not losing my mind. You see, I know what you're thinking. It's real. We laughed about it, but, Ann, the antidote. Where did Howard keep the antidote? Why, he kept that sort of thing with the narcotics. For safety. Didn't you see it? With the narcotics? I didn't look at labels. I just grabbed everything in the cabinet, threw it into the harbor. It's washed out to sea by now and we got to get away. Jack, we can't. The police would be suspicious. Let them be. I don't care, so long as I get away from. Look, we'll get married right away and get out of here. Oh, no. I don't want to go away. I don't want to get married. I don't need Jack anymore. I can do better. Could tell the police. I could kill Howard. They can't arrest me, Anne. You wouldn't tell. You said you loved me. Anne, you've Got to help me. I'll help you, darling. In a pig's eye, I'm free. Want to stay that way. Must. Call police. Tell them he did it. Get rid of him. You do mean it? Anne. Stay away from that phone. Jack. No, Jack. No. Help. Don't touch me. No, you don't. Jack. Joking me? Yes, my darling. You won't talk to anyone ever again. Get Jack. Toad. Cat breath. I'm dying and I can't do anything about it. Stop. Jack. Jack. I won't tell. So glad. So dark. There's somebody at the door. I've got to get out of here. Out the back way. Got to get away. So many people. I can't stand it. I can't think. Get out of my way. Leave me alone. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. All of you. Stop thinking. I can't stand it. Let me alone. Stop it. Stop. So he ran right out in front of me. How could I know he was gonna. You expect me to read his mind? Suspense. In which Barry Kroger starred in William N. Robeson's production of it's all in your mind, written by Morris Lee Green and William Walker, supporting Mary Kroger. And it's all in your mind were Shirley Mitchell, Mary Ellis Rivard, Lou Krugman, Lawrence Dobkin and Sam Pierce. Listen. Listen again next week when we return with the Steel River Prison break. Another tale well calculated to keep you in. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service. Lipton tea and Lipton soups Present Inner Sanctum Mysteries. Good evening, friends of the inner sanctum. When you heard the sound of the squeaking door, it was exactly 30 seconds past the hour for murder. But don't worry, we won't keep you waiting much longer. Even as I talk to you now, our hero and his victim are standing beside me, wishing I'd dispense with formalities so they can get to more enjoyable pursuits like murder. Now, isn't it funny, Mr. Host? I feel the same way in hot weather. You mean the heat makes you feel murderous? Now, this doesn't sound like our Mary. Please don't misunderstand me, Mr. Host. I mean, the heat makes me want to dispense with formalities so I can get to more enjoyable pursuits like serving myself and my friends tall, cooling glasses of iced Lipton tea in my backyard under the trees. Mmm. What grand iced tea Liptons makes. So gloriously full bodied. So full of zip. And it's that brisk Lipton flavor that does it. A flavor that's never flat, but always spirited. And Satisfying. You see, brisk is the word the tea experts themselves use to describe the livelier freshness of Liptons. And those same tea experts agree that in iced teas, brisk flavor is extra important. That's why for the best iced tea you ever tasted, you should always insist on Lipton tea. It's good iced because it's brisk in flavor. So keep a frosty pitcher of iced Lipton tea always on hand. Thank you for those cooling thoughts, Mary. Now into our sizzling thriller, Eight Steps to Murder, written especially for Inner Sanctum by Emil Teppelman. This is the chronicle of a carefully calculated crime. A crime so twisted and subtle that it had to be blueprinted in advance. As Barry Kroger, in the role of Mark Durfee, the newspaper columnist tells his story. We shall watch this crime develop, step by step. Eight STEPS TO MURDER. When I decided to kill Basil Archer, I went about it like an architect laying out the plans for a complicated building project. Only a fool leaves the details of such an undertaking to chance. I calculated every risk. I weighed every possibility of failure. I blueprinted each of the eight necessary steps I had to take. My first step was to get a suitable weapon. I went on Monday morning to the office of a pawnbroker I knew on 48th Street. Good morning, my friend. How are you? Mr. Krug? Come in. Come in, Mr. Durfee. Thank you. You know what I want? Indeed, yes. I have it here. Exactly what you need. It's fully loaded. You can spin the barrel and see for yourself. It's a nice revolver. Looks a little awkward, Harold. You said you wanted it with the silencer attached. Yes. How much for this, Mr. Krug? 200 and fifty dollars. What? That is the price, Mr. Duffy. You know it's against the law to sell these. Well, yes, but.250. You will pay it, Mr. Durfee. Well, all right. You know what I want this gun for. But naturally, you know I'm planning to kill someone with it. But naturally, otherwise. Would you want a silencer on it? You wouldn't be above a little honest Blackmail, would you? Mr. Krug, please do not point that gun at me. It is loaded. I know that. What are you going to do? I regret this, Mr. Krug. I'm going to have to kill you. No. I swear to save it. He'll be sorry for this. You will make a mistake. You will make a slip. There'll be no mistake. There will. There will. You cannot think of everything. I have thought of everything. This is the first thing you. You. You cannot think of everything. I left Krug's body where it lay and put the silenced revolver in my inside pocket and stepped out into the air. I stopped, stuck still, the rain suddenly coming down in buckets. I hadn't counted on it starting to rain. My alibi for Krug's killing was carefully planned. Everybody at my hotel thought I was still in my room sleeping off a binge, but carefully staged a drinking spree last night. But if my clothes were wet, they'd know I'd been out this morning. You cannot think of everything. You cannot think of everything. I hurried back to my hotel. Walking in the rain, it was too dangerous to take a cab. I sneaked in the service entrance the way I'd come out and walked up the one flight of stairs. As soon as I got my room, I took off my clothes, dropped them all in the bathtub and started the shower going. Then I went to bed. About noontime when the phone rang. I knew it was the clerk downstairs calling because I'd left a call for 12. I let the phone ring. That was step number two. A few minutes later, just as I expected, Ryan, the house detective, let himself into the room with his passkey. I pretended to be asleep. Dead to the world. These are all the cockeyed shenanigans. What a load he must have taken on last night. I heard Ryan go into the bathroom where the shower was still running, then come out muttering, and approach the bed. Wake up, Mr. Durfey. What? Oh, my head. Oh, you must have been as high as a kite last night. You undressed in the shower, left all your clothes in the bathtub. They're soaking wet. I was safe. My tracks were completely covered. This was Monday afternoon. According to my schedule, Basil Archer was to die on Friday evening at 10 o'clock sharp. I was now free to take step three in my blueprint for Murder. For this purpose, I went to Basil Archer's office. He was a theatrical producer, you see. His office was upstairs, over the famous old fantasy theater where Archer's new play was to open on Friday evening. As I opened the door of Basil Archer's office, I was quite cool. I'd rehearsed myself. Well, Basil was seated at his desk talking to Gregory Sutherland, the young and handsome author of the new play. Hello there, Mark. Glad to see you. Hi, Basil. Just dropped in to get a line on the new play. You know Greg Sutherland, the author. Sure. Greg, this is Mark Durfee. We've met. I tell you, Mark, Storm over the Highlands is going to be the biggest hit of the Season. Greg's written a fine play. I'm glad to hear that, Basil. Ought to go over big, especially with your wife during the lead. Nina's a great actress. Confidentially, that's one of the reasons why I'm doing Storm over the Highlands. Just suited for Nina. Nina will be wonderful. I guess she likes working with you, Mr. Sutherland. It's always a good idea for the author and the star of a play to work together. Oh, have you and Nina been working together, Greg? Well, yes, Mr. Arch. We sort of thought if we could exchange ideas. I never saw two people put their heart and soul into a job like Nina and Sutherland here. They spend every minute they can together. Now, look here, Durfee. I don't like the way you said that. Oh, I'm sorry, Sutherland. You know I didn't mean anything. It's. It's only what people are saying, seeing you both together so much. What's this all about, Mark? This is the first I've heard of anything. Oh, forget it, Basil. Oh, by the way, here's a package. I want to give it to Nina on opening night. I wonder if you put it in your safe for me to fire you. Why, sure, if you want me to. I'll put it here on the bottom shelf next to the payroll money. Come in Friday evening during the first intermission, and I'll get it out for you. Fine. Are those all packages of money on the bottom shelf? Yes. Over 100,000 in there. Receipts from my other shows. Hey, Armac. All safely locked up? What kind of a present is it? I. I'd rather keep that a secret. T from March's office. I went straight to his apartment. I knew Nina would be home, and it was important that I talk to her now. Hello, Mark. I've been wondering if you'd come today. I told you I would. Nina. I've waited so long, darling. Oh, Mark. How long will it be now? How much longer? Oh, little Friday, darling. After Friday, you'll be free of him forever. And then you and I. There's work to do first. This is only the fourth step. There are four more to go. Everything's working according to schedule. And the next step is up to you. What must I do, Mark? Oh, I started the ball rolling. Basil's beginning to worry about you in Sutherland. He's got to be encouraged to suspect as much as possible. You got to be seen around with Sutherland as frequently as you can. Oh, that'll be easy. Sutherland's hardly more than a kid. He worships the ground I walk on. But I'd rather be with you, darling. There. Five days more, Nina. Then we can be together. Always. Outside Nina's house, I stopped for a moment with a queer sensation in the pit of my stomach. It was raining again. Reminded me of Mr. Krug. You can think of everything. You can think of everything. Seemed to hear Krug's voice drumming in my ears. Don't make a mistake, Mark Durvey. You'll make a mistake. I won't, won't. I? Won't you make a mistake. Oh, poor Krug. You know, a pawnbroker's life is not an easy one. And Krug took such an interest in his business. And he never suspected Mark Durfee. In fact, he probably liked him for his redeeming qualities. Come to think of it, Krug was pretty lucky at that. Mark didn't steal anything from the store but the gun. So Krug lost practically nothing but his life. You know, Mark's story gives me an idea. I'd like to draw up a blueprint myself. Yes, Mary. Another blueprint for murder. Oh, now, Mr. Host. I'd call mine a blueprint for summer refreshment. And I'd like to do it in sound. First, I'd start with the creak of porch rockers on shaded summer streets. And the murmur of Backyard Gardener in the lilac dust. And with the teensters home from school, there'd have to be some sweet swing music, of course. And just to make my blueprint of summer sounds complete, you'd hear the tinkle of ice in tall, cool glasses. Glasses of refreshing ice. Flipton tea. Yes, Iced Lipton tea. Just goes with summertime fun and enjoyment. Lipton has such a Wide Awake flavor, the whole family will love it. And that flavor, folks, is brisk. Yes, that's the secret. Lipton's brisk flavor is what makes iced Lipton tea taste extra good. So for a delightful treat to beat the heat, serve iced tea. And for the best iced tea ever, insist on Lipton tea. Brisk flavor, never flat. Couldn't have done better myself, Mary. But now let's catch up with our architect of murder. If Mark Durfee's blueprint works out according to schedule, our death rate should go up sharply to about one per person. Let's see. He should be up to his fifth step by now, shouldn't he? Tuesday was a clear day without rain, and I felt better. I knew now that I couldn't make a mistake. In four days, Basil Archer would die as planned. And now for the fifth step, an easy one for Mark Durfee. Because He's a newspaper columnist. It merely requires dictating a little item for his column into the dictaphone at his desk. There's a new play opening soon which should be a huge success if the author and the leading lady can do anything, make it click. They're working harder on it than the producer himself. It looks like they've clicked with each other, too. And now the sixth step. Eight Steps to Murder. And this is number six. Just a couple of telephone calls to set the sixth step in motion. Hello? Hello, Nina. Did you see the paper this morning? Mark, darling, it was perfect. I've had a half dozen phone calls. Everybody knows you met Sutherland and me. Good. Basil saw it too, at breakfast this morning. He did? How did he like it? Oh, he just looked glum. I don't think he believes it. All right, now here's what I want you to do. Get hold of Sutherland and make him take you out tonight. There's a fast little nightclub out on the island, the Pirates hold. I know the place. Kind of disreputable, isn't it? Yeah. Right. Well, now, look, you'll get Sutherland to take you there. You think you can manage that? Oh, he'll take me anywhere I want to go. Good. Be sure to be there tonight about 10. I'll take care of the rest. Basil Archer speaking. Oh, hello, Basil. How are you? Mark Dirphy. Now, look here, take it easy, Basil. I know you want to bawl me out about that piece in the column. I thought you were a friend of mine. Look, Basil, that's why I printed that piece. I don't like what's going on. Just what do you mean? If Nina feels like working with the author of the place. Sure, sure, that's all right. But look, why keep things secret? What do you mean by that? Well, you ask Sutherland if he has any plans for tonight. I know what plans he has for tonight. He's going to stay home and work on some lines in the last scene. Is that so? What are you hinting at, Mark? I'm hinting that you take a run out to the pirates hold. You know where is out on the island. And you'll see how hard Sutherland will be working on the last scene. Hello, Mark, this is Nina. Oh, where are you? I'm calling from the pirates hold. Basil was just here. Oh, God. Did he find you with Sutherland? Well, naturally, I did just what you told me to. Fine. Everything is set for tomorrow. You're sure everything will be all right? Yes, quite sure. Now, this is what I want you to do tomorrow. Just before the show opens, you'll take sick. Basil will have to put in an understudy for you. Yes, I can do that. All right. Then you'll dismiss the servant? Yes. Now remember this clearly, Nina. You're going to be my alibi for the hour between 9 and 10, understand? I am, Stanmark. I'll be over at 9, but I'll leave a few minutes later by the back way. Only you'll swear that I stayed till a few minutes after ten. Is that clear? Yes, Mark. And good luck. When I rang the doorbell of Nina's apartment Friday night, I knew that every step I'd taken thus far far had been right. I couldn't fail. Mark. I was afraid you weren't coming. I was afraid something had gone wrong. Nothing's gone wrong. You sent the servants away? Yes, they're all gone. I'm alone. I can swear you were here till after 10. Good. How. How are you? How are you going to kill him? With this? A gun? What's that bulky looking thing on it? On the muzzle? That's a. Silence her, Nina. Oh, well, you better hurry, darling. You haven't much time. There's one thing more that I've got to do here before I go. Why are you pointing the gun at me? Because I'm going to kill you, Nina. Dear Mark, I don't like that kind of joke. It isn't a joke, my darling. Art, are you crazy? You little fool. Did you think I'd go to all this trouble planning this thing step by step? Did you think I was doing all of this for you? But I thought you loved me. I. You thought I was committing murder Because I loved you, Nina. You're just another step in my blueprint. Now you've served your purpose, just like Krug. Krug was step one, your step. Step seven, Mark. I made sure Nina was dead. Then I hurried out and went to Basil Archer's office. I had to be sure my timing was right. This was the eighth and the final step. I knew Basil would be in his office during the first intermission, so. Hello, Basil. Oh, it's you, Mark. Come in. I want to talk to you. What about, Basil? Mark, what's going on between Sutherland and Nina? Oh no, Basil, you're not a fool. I. I can't believe it. Well, if you want proof, suppose you get that package out of the safe. The one I left with you. The package? What's that? You get it and I'll show you all. Well, here's your package. Now what do you want to show me? Still Got all that cash in the safe, huh? You know I always have it here. Yes, I know. Say, what are you doing with that revolver? Look, Basil, look into the muzzle. What the. That's just right. Oh. I opened the package Basil had given me. It was only an empty box, nothing in it. But there was something here I could put into it. Now, I stepped across Basil's body, knelt before the open safe and took out the neatly tied bundles of money and put them into the empty box. Hundred thousand dollars was well worth the months of planning, the careful blueprinting. I was a rich man now. I was ready for the finale, the last bit of routine business which would finish the whole thing off properly. Pick up the phone and dial police headquarters. Wouldn't be too difficult to imitate Basil Archer's voice over the telephone. I'd rehearse that, too. Yes, headquarters. Hello, this is Basil Archer speaking. I've just killed my wife. What's that? My wife and Sutherland. They were planning to run away together. They stole all the money from my safe and we're going away. So I killed her. Now I'm going to kill myself, too. Now, wait, Mr. Archer. Now wait a minute. Don't do anything right soft. Everybody just stay there and we send a radio. Now everything was set carefully. I placed the revolver in Basil's cold hen and left no prints on it because I was wearing gloves. I picked up the package and walked out into the hall. But in the hall I stopped short. Someone had just come into the building downstairs. I peered down and I saw Gregory Sutherland coming up. Mr. Archer, are you up there? You better hurry. The second act is starting. Sutherland was coming up the stairs. I couldn't get out. I wasn't trapped. Oh, no. There was a porter's closet down the hall. Tiptoed over to it and slipped inside just as Sutherland got to the landing. George, are you in there? Sutherland was in Basil's office. Now he'd be finding the body. This was my chance to sneak out. I opened the closet door, what Katie Hatch is after. This one flies up. Now we can make it in time. The guy said he was going to kill himself. The police had come in, answer to my telephone call. Now I couldn't get out. There'd be a crowd outside and I'd be seen leaving. I had to stay in the building. Still, I wasn't trapped. I knew just what to do. Instead of leaving the building, I would walk out of the closet and into Basil's office right after the police, they'd think I'd just arrived. I stepped out of the porter's closet. I started for the door of Basil's office. Then suddenly I got a sick, weak feeling in the pit of my stomach. I stopped, stock still. I'd almost walked in to my death. It was raining outside. Suppose I walked in there with my clothes all dry, claiming that I'd just come in from the street. They'd know that I'd been hiding in the building all the time. The rain, that rain, it almost tricked me again. You can't think of everything. You'll make a mistake. You can't. I can. I can. You old fool. I'll show you. I hurried back into the porter's closet. I knew how to beat this, too. I turned on the faucet in the sink, splashed and drenched myself from head to foot. Well, now. Now I looked as if I'd just come in out of the rain. I stepped out of the closet, went down the hall, entered Basil Archer's office dripping wet. The two policemen were standing over Basil's body with Gregory Sutherland. They all looked up as I came in. Oh, hello, mister. Sorry about this, friend. Basanacher committed suicide. Oh, no. Oh, it's impossible, Sergeant Moran. Basil wouldn't do a thing like that. Why? Who. Who found him? I did, Mr. Durie. I came to call him for the second act. Oh, this is terrible. He's taken an open and shut case, killed his wife, then came here and knocked himself out. And what's more, Mr. Sutherland. Yes? Before he knocked himself off, he phoned headquarters and said you'd stolen money from his safe. That's a lie. Wait a minute, Sergeant. Mr. Durfee. Yes, Sullivan? How did you get yourself all wet like that? You try not getting wet in that rain. Rain? What's rain, Mr. Dorothy? Suddenly. Suddenly I went clammy all over. I saw that none of them was wet. Their clothes were all dry. But how could that be? They'd just come in out of the rain. What rain, Mr. Dodgeford? Well, you. You can hear it, can't you? It's pouring rain. Just listen to that thunder. Thunder. Rain. Good heavens, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard. Don't you see, Sergeant? He's been in the building all the time trying to make us think he just came in and he got himself all wet for nothing. Sergeant, I bet you a dollar he murdered Archer. You're crazy. It's pouring outside. You can hear it yourself. Well, just listen to that rain beating down the thunder. You poor SAP. That isn't rain, you hear? It's my play next door. Storm over the Highlands. Remember, Those are the sound effects in the second act. So it looks like Mark Durfee was all wet. In fact, he got himself so soaking wet he practically liquidated himself. But cheer up. I'm sure he won't spend more than six months in jail. And that wouldn't be so bad, would it, if they weren't going to execute him afterwards. Poor Mark. If only someone had told him. Told him what, Mary? Well, look. Mark took eight steps to get in the cooler when you really only have to take one step to get cool. Sure, just step down to the grocer's and get a large, economical package of brisk Lipton tea. Then keep a pitcher of iced Lipton tea always on hand and help yourself to its cooling refreshment. Off and on throughout the day. That's all there is to it. And you'll find Lipton's makes perfect iced tea. Because Lipton's is never flat. It always tastes delightfully tangy and full body. That's why this summer, when you want iced tea, you should be sure to use the tea with the brisk flavor. Ask your grocer tomorrow for Liptons. And so ends our little essay on the modern methods of murder. Of course, our little essays on murder are only for the select few. As a matter of fact, only one person in every 10,000 is capable of murder. And speaking of statistics, due to our high birth rate, the population of this country is increasing faster than Inner Sanctum and kill them. Very discouraging. Very discouraging indeed. Oh, by the way, this month's Inner Sanctum mystery novel is the Panic Stricken by Mitchell Wilson. And next week, the makers of Lipton Tea and Lipton soups will bring you another Inner Sanctum story directed by Hyman Brown and called Bury Me Not. Now there's a plot for you. A plot right in the graveyard. Trouble is, the rains come and uncover it. What becomes of the body? Well, now, that's any body scarce. But come around next week we'll be right at the graveside and we'd like to have you drop in. Until then, good night. Pleasant dreams. Now that summer's here, keep cool by keeping out of the kitchen. Serve Lipton's noodle soup. It's quick and easy to prepare and gives you a delicious soup in a jiffy. With so much less work and trouble. It's the perfect hot dish to serve with cool summertime suppers. Because Lipton's is luscious noodle soup with real old time chickeny flavor. Besides, Lipton's noodle soup mix costs less and makes lots more than the usual canned soup. Ask for it tomorrow. Lipton's noodle Soup. And tune in next week for another inner Sanctum mystery. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Tired of the everyday routine? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Want to get away from it all? We offer you Escape. Escape. Transcribed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. You are trapped in a dark, empty house. A girl lying dead at your feet and surrounding you. Closing in on you are a band of killers, deadly enemies of your country and yourself. And they are intent on murdering you. Today with Barry Kroeger starred as David we escape to England and the story of a man whose life depended upon the outcome of his mission. As Graham Greene told it in his fascinating story, Confidential Agent it was getting dark as the ship threaded its way through the tugs into Dover harbor. The thick fog gave way reluctantly to the ship. It swirled over the deck. There was a cold bite to it, chilling me inside and out. Yet in a way, this cold English fog was more comforting than the atmosphere I had left. For in my country. Country there was war already. Austria had fallen before the goose stepping armies of a madman. And now my country was fighting with its back to the war. In order to continue the fight, we needed industrial diamonds to shape the tools of war. That's why I was now landing in England. There were others in my country. A group headed by a man known only as the Baron who wanted to turn our country over to the invader. Who would do anything to stop us from getting the diamonds we needed. So you see, my mission was a secret one. Not even our own embassy knew of it. So far the trip had been uneventful, except for meeting the girl. Her name's Rose Cullen. At first she seemed too curious, asking questions about my trip, my visit, my friends. And I wondered if she were working with the Baron. But as time wore on, I decided I'd been mistaken and I accepted her offer to drive me to London. Twenty minutes after we had docked, we were through the customs and walking towards the car park. Rose suddenly asked me to excuse her for a moment. Almost before I could answer her, she had vanished in the fog. Good evening, David. Baron. I've been expecting you. We have nothing to talk about, Baron. I think we could find the subject diamonds, for example. Or perhaps I could interest you in accepting, let us say, £2,000 for our point of view. Say £2,000. I still say we have nothing to talk about an honest man. It's a very dangerous hobby, David. Honesty. You may remember an old saying in our country. The honest man and the thief both pay the same price to death. Goodbye, David. He raised his hand in an open palm salute. And walked away, the fog quickly swirling up to hide him. There was a shot aimed at me. I jumped back against the wall. There was nothing to see but fog. Gray wisps of fog blanketing out everything. There was no way of telling from where death had tried to strike or from where it might strike again. Then I heard her returning. Had she left me to give them the chance? Or had it been her finger, manicured in perfume that had curled around the trigger? Sorry to be so long, David. Are you ready? Yes. I. I was talking to your friend, the Baron. The Baron? You must be mistaken. I don't know a baron. Come. Did he say he knew me? No. Perhaps I am mistaken. Of course. It might be someone I met at Father's. He loves to surround himself with titles. Oh. Who is your father? Ah, here we are. Will you drive? I'm simply exhausted. All right. My father. Oh, he's Lord Bendage. Didn't you know? Lord Bendage? But I thought your. Your name is Colin. Of course. My father's name was Edward Cullen. After his first million pounds, he became Edward, Lord Bendage. It's really quite simple. I came here to do business with Lord Bandage. Isn't that coincidence? Everybody I meet has business with him. I see. I can't think of anything more dull than father's business. What are you thinking? How in my country, I would go along a country road like this very slowly, ready to jump into a ditch if I heard a plane. I'm not sure the war has not followed me here. Don't be silly. The only war here is between the Prime Minister, who talks about peace in our time, and Mr. Churchill, who talks just as long about the glory that was Britain's. And nobody believes in anything. You're very cynical for such a pretty good. What is there for me to believe in? My father's diamonds? Hardly something to get passionate about. You have no, young man? Plenty. If I want to know who scored 60 runs in the Lansing Brighton cricket match or the odds at Epsom Downs. But there's no excitement. If it's excitement you want, perhaps we still will get it. One of my countrymen tried to kill me just before you joined me. Oh, really? Is true. He or his men will certainly try again before I reach your father. Don't be so melodramatic. Things like that don't happen except in thrillers. Unless, of course, you're a spy, are you? No, no, I'm more of a confidential agent. I. What's the matter? What's right ahead of us? It's just a lorry. Why is he blocking the road? We stole, probably. I'm sorry you're mixed up in this role, but it's only someone out of here. Hold on. We're going on. Damn it. There's a bullet in the window shield. Someone is trying to kill you. Yes. We must go to the police. With what? We saw no one we could identify. But we struck one of them. I felt the car hit him. Couldn't they be traced by him? All it would prove is that I ran him down. In fact, they might use that to have me arrested. Oh, no. If the Baron fails to kill me, and I think I can see to that, then it would serve him almost as much to have me arrested for murder. It was late at night when we reached London. Rose wanted to drive me to my destination, but I refused. It wasn't entirely distrust, but I feared that she might lead them to me without realizing it. So she dropped me off in the West End. When she'd driven on, I stopped the taxi, gave the driver the address. He brought me to an old two story house, its dirty gray front bearing witness to the poverty of the neighborhood. Here you are, Governor. This is number 10, mallone end. That's right, Governor. Just over there. You up across the road and you'll be at the. How can you be so sure, driver? It's so foggy here I can't see the number. I counted them. Counted the azies from the corner of I Street. I see. That's number 10, all right. All right. That'll be three and six. Oh, yes, of course. Here you are. Oh. Oh, thanks very much, Governor. Thank you. Good night. Good night. I stepped closer and peered through the fog that blanketed at the buildings. Only here and there a feeble gleam of light struggling through. I stood there for a moment, looking at it. There was no light visible in any of the windows. And I wondered, fear pressing in with the fog, if something had happened to our agent. I kept my hand near my gun as I pressed the button beside the door. If something had happened to our agent, this might be a trap. The door opened a few inches and a pinched elfin face, neither old nor young, looked out at me. What do you want this time of night? I'm sorry, but I'm David. David D as in diamonds. Oh, come in. Just A minute. I'll turn on the lights. Thank you. You. You're much younger than I thought you'd be. We are using them younger these days. I was just making a spot of tea. Perhaps you'd like some? Oh, yes, I would, very much, thank you. You see, I. I've been very careful with lights since I saw someone watching the house two days ago. One of the barons men, you think? I don't know. I just thought it better not to take chances. The baron came over on the same boat with me. Oh, did he see you? Oh, yes. Thank you. It's all right. We even had a short talk at the customs. You. What did he say? You offered me money for a vacation. How much? £2,000. You refused, of course. £2,000. Well, this tastes good after being out in the fog. It's warm. It's more money than I've ever seen in my life. How do I know you refused? I suppose that's a question I would ask, too, were I in your place. You know, I wonder if that isn't the baron's biggest crime against us, that he's made us eternally suspicious of each other. Yes, I. What is your name? Elsie. Elsie. Well, Elsie, you don't know that I didn't take the £2,000. But I am going to see Lord Bendage tomorrow, and maybe that will prove it. And then you'll be going back Monday? Yes. Oh, I see. Now, what do you have for me? Not very much. You see, I know that the baron has friends everywhere, even in the English government. But Lord Bendage will deal with you first if you are there on time and can prove you represent your government. If I did not show up, then he'd be free to deal with the baron. Yes, that's it exactly. Now, look, if you're seeing Bendage and his syndicate tomorrow. Yes. Then I must warn you again. The shot came through the window. I leaped to the wall, turned off the light. I knelt, found her wrist. There was no pulse. Elsie was dead. Kneeling there, I cursed myself. The minute she told me that someone had been watching the house, I should have known that both of us had to get out. I should have known there was no time for tea and talk. Suddenly, at a sound, the door. The killer or killers were in the house. To stay there, in that dark, small room, try to shoot it out with them. Could have only one ending. They were blocking off the front door. I couldn't leave through a window. I'd be a perfect target that way. I began to edge toward the other door. In the back. It was slow work. Then I was in what seemed to be a kitchen. A gloomy patch of light guided me to the door. I pressed my face to the glass. I strained to see outside. A man was standing only a few feet from the back door. There was only one other way to go up. I slipped out of the kitchen into the hall. After what seemed hours, I found the stairway and carefully stepped on the first step. It creaked and I leaped higher and up to one side. Just in time, another step fired again. There was only one thing to do. I raced up the stairs. I flung myself to the floor. I. Downstairs, I heard the front door open again. More of them had entered the house. They were taking no chances. I lay there on the floor at the head of the stairs, scarcely daring to breathe. I knew I could get anyone coming up that stairs with my gun. But was there another stairway to the second floor? I knew so many of these houses had them. Perhaps this one did too. Somewhere outside, I heard something thump against the side of the house. One of them was trying to get in. One of them was coming in through some window on the second floor. From every side, death was closing in on me. In just a moment we will return to Escape. But first, that happy but hectic couple, Ozzie and Harriet. Come home to CBS tomorrow at 6:30 Eastern Standard Time. So get your whole family together to welcome them home next Sunday night when they'll be heard on most of these same CBS stations just before the Jack Benny Show. And now with our star, Barry Kroger as David, we return to the second act of Escape and Confidential Agent. I was on the second floor of the old house on Mallon End. And the Baron's men were downstairs, slowly working their way up to me, searching me out. It was a quick decision. The open rooftop presented a chance of escape. And lying here in the dark was tempting discovery. A moment later I was through a skylight and in the night air, five house away, I found fire escape and had reached the ground. And two blocks farther on Blean Street, I found a cheap hotel and registered under another name. The next morning I took a taxi to the house of Lord Bendage. The butler with the empty face of the typical British servant took my coat and then showed me into the room where Lord Benditch and four other men waited. These men were the diamond syndicate here the men were expecting. Yes, I think you know the object of my visit. We had a letter a fortnight ago. Strange the purchase wasn't handled through your embassy or consulate. This is Mr. Forbes. How do you do, Lord Fetting. Me, Lord. Mr. Brigstock. How do you do, sir? Mr. O'Grady, you'll forgive us if we get to business right away. I should like that. I'm prepared to pay the highest market price. For which I have here a site draft and a bonus of 25% after the diamonds reach my country. You will take the diamonds yourself? Oh, yes. Then the bonus should be paid now. Bendage is right, old boy. You might never go back. And then where should we be? Perhaps, Lord Bendage, we could accept the offer as it is, if we are given notes covering the bonus. Oh, yes. I am quite prepared to do that. Very well. You understand, we could do better than this. But we'd like to do business with established governments. We must, however, be certain that you have the right to speak for your government. You have your credentials, of course? Certainly, I have them. Something wrong? That's extraordinary. I had them in my breast pocket with my passport. Him Kleptue left them at your hotel. Morning after a tacky evening. I had them right here when I entered this house. If you're implying I did have my papers, they've been stolen. I dare say. Well, it's obvious we can't do business with an unaccredited agent. Not that it should be stolen. Rough go, old boy. But it looks like you've had it. We are sorry, but Lord Benditch is right. I walked slowly out of the room. I must admit they were fair. The butler must have taken the papers when they helped me off with my coat. But I had no proof. I went out in the hall, took my coat from the rack. I was about to leave when I heard my name. David. It was Rose Cullen. David, did you get the diamonds from Father? No. My papers have been stolen. And your father won't deal with me since I could not prove I represent my government. Rose, do you know. Is your father's butler new? Well, I think so. Although I didn't really notice. I don't live here. I have my own apartment. You mean you think he. I'm sure of it. I had my papers when I came up the steps. They were gone when I went to show them to your father. Then that means. Come along, David. We'll find out. No, Rose, that would do no good. I'm sure that the baron will have covered all loopholes. The papers are far away by now. No. I must think of some other way to convince your father. Well, isn't there someone at your embassy? I don't think so. We don't trust them. Except perhaps the second secretary, he. But even he may have been reached. But we've got to do something. We can't just. Why do you suddenly want to help me? Only last night you were laughing at me, Rose. Maybe I was. Last night? Well, then why? Oh, David, can't you guess why? I want to help you, to be with you. Ror's look. All you think of is your stupid war. Last night I laughed at you because you were a stuffy little man from another country, filled with ideas of his own importance and briefs and papers. Now, after I've had a chance to think things over, I know this isn't true. Rose. A man in my position has to give up many things. He has no time to fall in love. Why not, David? Why not, Rose? All right, I won't embarrass you. Now, tell me something. Forbes and Brigstock were with Father when you met? Yes. Yes, they were. All right then. Brigstock is an ass. But they'll both help your country if they're sure it's all right. I'll get them. And the four of us will go to your embassy. We'll make them prove who you are. She was right. They both did seem anxious to help and were quite willing to go to the embassy with us. At the embassy, we waited for the second secretary. Then a man appeared, a countryman of mine, although I had never seen him before. May I help you, gentlemen? Yes. My name is forbes. This is Mr. Brigstock. How do you do? How do you do? We are associated with Lord Benditch. This is his daughter. We are considering doing business with this other gentleman who claims to represent your government. I know of no official representative being sent here. What is your name, sir? Here is my passport. See, this is very strange, Mr. Forbes. The man whose name is on this passport is no longer alive. Are you sure? He was shot by the rebels. Oh, you're lying. You didn't even look at the passport. You had your story ready before we even got here. As a matter of fact, yes. We were warned that someone was posing as this man. We've had the Scotland Yard man here hoping he'd show up. Inspector. Scotland Yard, eh? They'll get to the bottom of this, I have no doubt. Ah. Is this the man? Yes. And here is his passport, Inspector. I see. Well, sir, we're going to have to hold you. On what charges, Inspector? Well, there are several, Miss. Using a forged passport. Illegal entry into the country. Trying to obtain a contract under false pretenses. Inquiry into a hit and run death on the Dover Road last night. And inquiry into the death of a young woman on Mallon End. What if I refuse to accompany you, Inspector? Well, in that case, sir, I'm afraid I'll have to force you. If you need it, Inspector, I have a gun here. He doesn't need it. But I. Now, stand there. Don't try to follow me through the door. Wait, David. I'm coming with you. The two of us backed out of the room and ran downstairs. I knew it would be only a matter of minutes before there'd be an alarm out and Scotland Yard would be looking for me as well as the Baron's men. I was sure that I could beat the murder charges. But by that time it would be too late to get the industrial diamonds to my country even if I could buy them. Rose took me to her apartment. Then, without telling me what she was going to, she left. An hour later she was back. David, it worked. What worked? I went to find Forbes and Brigstock. I convinced them that you don't dare stay and face the charges. And they're going to sell you the diamonds you need in spite of Father. Isn't it wonderful? You are. I don't know how I can ever repay you. By taking me back with you. Rose, darling, I told you before. I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm only asking to go back with you to take part in something that's decent and honest. After that, we'll take what comes. You don't know what you're asking. Rose, it is not so simple as just going back. What do you mean? After today, Scott and Jard will be watching every ship leaving England. I can't book passage. I'll have to find some way to slip out of the country. Forbes can arrange that, too. After you get the diamonds. Forbes and Brigstock brought the diamonds a small package that meant life for at least a while longer to my country. They both seemed only embarrassed when I tried to thank them. And when they left, Rose went with them. They'd not been gone long. There was a knock on the door. I hesitated to answer to it. It's big stuck, old boy. I say. Let me in. Mr. Bricksook, is something wrong? Not a thing, old boy. You know, it occurred to me that you're in a bit of a sport about getting out of the country now that you have the diamonds. An idea happily struck me, so I just nipped back. You know how I can get away? Quite the perfect solution, old boy. Is this a gun? A spirit of you to recognize it. No, no, no. Assure you I am an expert shot, bullseye and all that sort of thing. You're one of them. In a manner of speaking, yes. You see, I'm one of the fortunate few who recognize that democracies are decadent. Too weak. You know, Nothing for me to do but work with other Johnnies who are gray. An Aryan world for all you Aryan supermen. Is that it? You know, Rose has exquisite taste in rugs. It's a pity you'll have to bleed all over it. You're quite insane, Briggs. Dar. Lot of talk. You see, people like you never have the brains to understand the glorious world that we are going to build. A world dedicated to joy through strength. Forbes. I say, most unfair, Alba. They can never resist making speeches. I thought there was something suspicious about Brigstock, leaving her so suddenly, so I followed him. However, there's no time to talk. You have to get out of here quickly. Where shall I go? I own a resort hotel near South Crawl. I'll make a reservation for you. And tonight one of my men will pick you up there, put you on a freighter bound for your country. And Brigstock? Brigstock is our problem. I'll give them a full report of it when I turn myself in, as I must do. Perhaps. Perhaps my trial will help my country as much as your escape will help yours. I reached the hotel just as it was getting dark. The lobby was filled with men and women in shorts and jackets. All of them talking of sports. Surely no place was safer. I went over to buy a newspaper. I say, don't I know you? Your face is familiar. I don't believe so. Foreigner, aren't you? No. I have it. Saw a photograph of you in the stock press edition of the Express. I'm afraid you've made a mistake. Can't get away from Scotland Yard. Best police force in the world. No, I remember. It was murder. Don't try to get away now. I shall take measures. You know, I thought of making a run for it, but there was no use. The lobby was filled with people. I couldn't hold up all of them. My captor sent someone to call the police. We sat down and waited. You foreigners aren't civilized, you know. Fellow told me when he was in Prague, he saw a trap shoot down the bobby right on the street. Can't do that sort of thing. You know anyone in here by the name of. Here we are. Are you the detective? Detective? Why, yes. Then here's your man. Oh, I see. I have a warrant for your arrest. Charging. I know the charge, officer. Don't bother with it. Well, Then come along. No handcuffs? No, I don't think that'll be necessary. I have a car right out here. Well, that was a close one. Close one? Yes. It's a good thing you played along, or I wouldn't have been sure what the charges were. You mean you're not a detective? Heavens, no. Mr. Forbes didn't tell me the yard was in this. Or they weren't. Before it was in the last edition of the paper. One man recognized me and called the police. It's lucky I came when I did, then. Very well. We'll be at the coast before they get a search underway. We reached the coast in half an hour and I was hoisted over the side of a small freighter like a piece of cargo. I stayed below until we were well underway and then went above. The deck was uncovered and the wind whipped the sharp spray across my face. I could feel the pressure of the package of diamonds in my pocket. My mission was over and I was on my way home. Yet I felt neither relief nor happiness. I'd thought there was no room in my life for both war and love. But now that there was only war ahead, I felt empty. I stared off at the lights glimmering somewhere far astern. That. That would be Plymouth. Hope Rose. Oh, Dick Rose. Now, Dick Rose, this is not the time for tears. When. When I was a little girl, someone told me that most men don't know what they want, so they make gestures. And Forbes said the same thing this afternoon. And so I. I decided not to waste time. And I made the decision for both of us. Between Mr. Forbes and yourself, my darling, it seems everything has been taken care. Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald. Today we have presented transcribed Confidential Agent by Graham Greene. Adapted for radio by Ken Crossen with editorial supervision by John Dunkle. Starred as David was Barry Kroeger. Featured in the cast were Edgar Barrier, Constance Cavendish, Herb Butterfield, Parley Bair, Olive Deering, Ben Wright, Wilms Herbert and Alec Harford. Special music was arranged and played by Ivan Detmars. Next week you are standing alone in a lonely canyon in the shadows of Superstition Mountain. While facing you timber's ragged, guns drawn, are three men who, at your first move toward hidden treasure, will shoot you dead. Next week we Escape with Ralph Bates. Unusual story. When the man comes, follow him. Be sure to tune in at the same time next week when once again we offer you Escape. Tomorrow night on CBS is really something to talk about and listen to Academy Award winner Jane Wyman on the CBS Family Hour of Stars. Ozzie and Harriot, Jack Benny, Amos and Andy, Sam Spade and Lum and Abner. These are only a few of the great stars and shows which will come to you tomorrow night on most of these same CBS network stations. Jack Benny, of course, will be heard on the entire CBS network. This is Roy Rowan speaking. Now. Stay tuned for five minutes of the latest news to be followed by the let's Pretend program over most of these same CBS network. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. We just heard Barry Kroger in August Heat. It's all in your mind, Inner Sanctum and Escape. That will do it for this week's show. Thanks so much for joining me. I hope you'll be back next week for more Old Time Radio thrillers. In the meantime, you can check out down these Mean Streets, my Old Time Radio Detective podcast. New episodes of that show are out on Sundays. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show in Apple podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com Meansts OTR and every bit helps and is appreciated. So thank you. Now good night until next week when I'll be back with another star and more tales well calculated to keep you in. 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.