Burton Grumberg (16:24)
Like they say, when you eat too well, demand dye gel. Miss Monroe, please cancel my appointments for the rest of the afternoon. It doesn't matter. Well, young woman, who is employing whom? Do as I say. Who is employing whom? I often think. Mr. Oh, Tucker. I often think we in business would have a much easier time if that axiom were observed. Who is employing. Quite right. So there are times when the removal of someone from this earth would be beneficial. This isn't Murder Incorporated, is it? Hardly, Mr. Hardly. There is absolutely no criminal aspect in our aims or our methods. I'll admit we're a secret society, but we're not exactly the black hat. No. You'd be amazed at the quality of our membership. It even includes members of the legal profession. No, I don't. Thank you. Yes, members of the legal profession. But let me tell you how the society came to be. It began with two men. I can't reveal their names just now. The year was 1949, and one of these men was a lawyer. The other one was a government psychiatrist. Both of them were involved in a rather sensational trial concerning a man accused of a hideous crime against two small boys. In their opinion, the man was unquestionably guilty. But an unusually persuasive defense counsel and a highly suggestible jury gave him his freedom. When the shocking verdict was announced, these two, who were personal friends as well as colleagues, were thunderstruck and furious. They felt. Well, they felt a monumental wrong had been committed and they were helpless to write it. I see, I see. The psychiatrist. Ah, yes. For some years he'd made studies in a field which might be called anthropological psychiatry. One of these researches related to the voodoo practice of certain groups. The Haitian in particular. You've probably heard a great deal about voodoo Obaya. As they call it in Jamaica. Anyway, I won't. I won't dwell on the subject. Unless you think we hold tribal rights and stick needles into dolls or something. The chief feature of his study, this psychiatrist. Was the uncanny success of certain strange practices. Naturally, he. As a scientist, you know. Naturally, he rejected the supernatural explanation. And thought a rational one. And, of course, there was only one answer. When the high priest or whatever decreed punishment or death for someone. It was the guilty person's own convictions concerning the power of the death wish. His face in the voodoo. This made the wish come true. Sometimes he would simply sicken and die. Sometimes, through the voodoo curse, he would die by accident. An accident prompted by the secret belief that once cursed, he must die. Eerie, isn't it? No doubt. Anyway, our friend, these psychiatrists began to wonder, you see, if any of us have progressed far enough along the path of civilization. Not to be suggestible to this kind of punishment. He proposed that they experiment on this subject. Just to find out what you mean. They. They actually. I mean, with. They went to see this man, you see, and they announced their intentions. They told him they were going to wish him debt. They explained how and why their wish would become a reality. And although he laughed, they saw superstition, fear in his face. This was the man, the one responsible for the crime. That's right. That's right. They promised him that regularly, every day. They would be wishing for his death. Until he could no longer stop the mystic juggernaut. That would make the wish come true. Pretty silly really, isn't it? The man died of a heart attack two months later. Ah, I knew you'd say that. Such a thing as coincidence, you know. Naturally, that's what our friends told one another. They weren't satisfied, you see. So they tried again. Again, I won't recount who the victim was. But this time they engaged the help of four associates. This little band of pioneers was the nucleus of the society I represent today. And you mean to tell me there's a thousand. Yes, a thousand and more, all over the country. A society whose one function is to wish people dead. At first, of course, membership was purely voluntary. But now we've got a system. Each new member of the Society for United Action joins on the basis of submitting one potential victim. Naturally, the society investigates to determine whether the victim is deserving of his fate. If the case is a good one, the entire membership then sets about to wish him dead. Once the task has been. I'm sorry, no, I. Once the person has met his decreed fate, well, then the New member must take part in all future concerted action. That and a small yearly fee is all that's required membership. And in case you don't think I'm serious, here are the facts to date. 229 victims were named by our selection committee. Of those, 201 are no longer alive. Coincidence, Mr. Gr. Well. Well, that leaves 28. Well, this indicates that our method isn't infallible, doesn't it? We're the first to admit that. But new techniques are being developed all the time. I assure you, in the end we shall get them all. As our members are listed in this book, Mr. Grunter, I'm going to give you the option to call one, ten or a hundred of them. Call them? Call them and see if I'm telling the truth. Well, like the court, any of them. No, no, no, no. I wouldn't need to take your word for it, Mr. Tucker. It's incredible, but I can see just how it works. I really can. Just knowing that a thousand people wish you dead is enough to. Well, enough to. There's just one question you mentioned something about a small fee. It's £50, Mr. Grant. £50? I see. 50 times a thousand. That works out till very reasonable money, doesn't it? I assure you the organization is not motivated by profit. And not the kind you mean. The dues merely cover expenses, committee work, research and the like. Surely you can understand that. Yes, I suppose, sir. Then you find it interesting. Interesting? Can you offhand think of anyone you would wish? I think I could. I'll hound you from the company, Grunter. You and all your psychopathic creeps if I put my mind to it. I've striven, striven hard, man and boy. Given the best years of my life to this organization. I love my work and I'll not see an over ambitious Juxtapitt take over. You will not step into my shoes. And from my shoes will not infant DB Stevens. This term will not become secondary to the whim of a thug like you. I dedicate my life to breaking you, Burton. Granza Burton. If only it could work. It does work, mister. I would have thought that 201 out of 229. Yes, but 200 and phew. But how can it work though? If wishes became deeds, I'd have slaughtered dozens in my lifetime. No doubt you would, Mr. Grunster. No doubt you would have. But you weren't aware of my organization then, were you? No, but yes, I suppose it was always different. My wishes then were always secret things hidden. No man ever knew about them. And Burton Grunzer strode about the room. He thought swiftly and concisely about the information, the knowledge this amiable little man, Mr. Tucker, had brought him. The power Mr. Tucker was placing within his grasp. 201 out of 229. Very good odds. What was that? 85%? 90? Something very like it. I assure you. In the end we shall get them all. Yes, if I. I can see how it would work. A thousand minds burning, burning with a single wish of death. So I can imagine. I can see the chosen victim sneering in disbelief at first and then slowly, gradually giving in, succumbing to fear. You put it very well, Mr. Grupp. You have a wonderful grasp of what we're aiming for. At first, of course, the victim would just think that. Well, it. That it might work. And then suddenly, Burton Grunter saw the ruddy face of Whitman Hayes. But the victim has to know all this, of course. He has to know the society exists and has succeeded in his wishing for his death. That's absolutely. It's interesting. Absolutely essential. You've touched on the vital point, Mr. Granter. The victim must be informed. And that precisely is what I have done. Your death wish began at noon today. The facade has begun to work. I'm very sorry.
