The Waxwork by The Price Of Fear

Summary

The Horror! (Old Time Radio) – "The Waxwork" by The Price Of Fear

Podcast Date: February 21, 2026
Production Date: Originally aired October 13, 1973
Host: RelicRadio.com
Main Voice/Narrator: Vincent Price as himself

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Episode Overview

This chilling episode presents "The Waxwork," a macabre tale adapted from a story by A.M. Burridge, performed by Vincent Price for the BBC radio series "The Price Of Fear." In this story, a down-on-his-luck writer spends the night in the eerie Chamber of Horrors at a London wax museum, hoping for inspiration. But as reality and imagination blur, terror takes a physical–and fatal–form.

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Key Discussion Points & Story Beats

1. Introduction – Setting the Tone (00:06–01:42)

• Vincent Price opens with an atmospheric invocation of classic supernatural dread:

  "Oh, stories. Real stories. And murder too." [00:06]

• The host introduces the "The Price Of Fear" series and today's featured story, "The Waxwork," first broadcast in 1973. [01:02–01:42]

2. The Writer and the Dare (03:08–04:46)

• Vincent Price (playing himself) unexpectedly meets Raymond Hewson, an unsuccessful freelance writer who’s arranged to stay overnight in the wax museum's Chamber of Horrors for a story.

  Raymond: "I've arranged to spend tonight all night in the Chamber of Horrors at the waxworks around the corner. I'm hoping to write a piece about it..." [04:22]

• Raymond seeks Vincent’s presence for credibility and comfort but insists on staying alone as part of his gamble for literary success.

3. Permission and Warning from the Museum (05:14–06:56)

• Ms. Frayne, the wax museum director, reluctantly agrees to Hewson’s request, seeing publicity value:

  “In your case, we have something to gain. Publicity.” [05:55]

• She sternly cautions about the psychological toll:

  “If you are at all susceptible to atmosphere, you are in for a most uncomfortable night.” [06:44]

4. Descent into the Chamber of Horrors (07:01–09:32)

• The group tours the dim, vault-like chamber lined with notorious wax murderers:

  “It was, by design, an eerie and uncomfortable chamber, the very atmosphere of which invited its visitors to speak in whispers.” —Vincent Price [08:01]

• Notable Figures: Dr. Crippen, Wilkinson the Strangler, the murder of the princes in the Tower, and especially Dr. Bordet, their "star turn."

5. The Figure of Dr. Bordet (09:35–11:52)

• Ms. Frayne explains Bordet’s real-life legend: a French doctor and hypnotist who killed for pleasure and was never apprehended.

  Ms. Frayne: “He carried on his work of healing by day and of throat cutting by night.” [10:32]

• Bordet’s wax figure unnerves both Vincent and Raymond:

  Raymond: "Those eyes, they seem to bite into you." [11:27] Ms. Frayne: "This figure's a little masterpiece. It's excellent realism, really, for Bordet practiced hypnotism and was supposed to mesmerize his victims before dispatching them." [11:35]

6. The Isolation Begins (12:02–13:08)

• Raymond is left alone—ostensibly to spend the night and write his story.
• Both Price and Ms. Frayne reiterate final warnings and goodbyes.

  "Good night. And thanks for tucking me in." –Raymond Hewson [13:02]

7. The Ordeal – Alone Among the Waxworks (13:08–22:23)

• Using Raymond’s notebook, Vincent reconstructs the night from Raymond’s perspective:
• Raymond sets up tape recorder and begins taking notes; the uncanny stillness unravels his nerves.
• A watchman delivers a chair, departing with a sardonic warning:

  Watchman: "Don't let any of them sneak up behind you, sir, and touch you with their clammy hands." [16:36]

• Raymond's agitation mounts—he thinks the wax figures are moving when unobserved:

  "They're all only waxworks. What was that? Something moved. Come on, come on. This won't do." –Raymond [17:30]

• He tries to rationalize but grows convinced someone—or something—is breathing in the room besides him.

8. The Horror Unmasked – Dr. Bordet (20:40–25:54)

• The Bordet figure comes to life; it is the real Dr. Bordet, who hid among the waxworks to evade police by swapping places with his statue during a fire scare.

  Dr. Bordet: "I raised a cry of fire, stripped my effigy of the cape, hid it, and simply took its place on the platform." [22:24]

• Bordet reveals a chilling philosophy:

  "The world is divided into two classes: collectors and the non collectors... I collect throats." [23:39]

• Bordet mesmerizes the terrified Raymond, preparing to kill him while denying his pleas.

  Dr. Bordet: "No, sir. Your appeals are useless. You are now completely under my control. You cannot even speak unless I tell you to do so. Now, you will please have the goodness to raise your chin a little. Thank you. Just a fraction more. Mercy, monsieur." [25:19–25:54]

9. Aftermath and Ambiguous Conclusion (26:09–29:53)

• Vincent, Ms. Frayne, and the watchman discover Raymond’s corpse:

  "Raymond Hewson sat still leaning far back in his armchair. His chin was tilted up, as if he were waiting to receive attention from a barber. And although there was not a scratch upon his throat, he was cold and dead." –Vincent Price [27:49]

• Were Raymond’s terrors the result of an overactive writer’s imagination, or did something supernatural occur?
• Creepy ambiguity as Price ponders unexplained laughter on the tape and the possibility of waxworks themselves laughing at Raymond's fate:

  "Could it really have been the waxworks, those vacant, staring effigies laughing at the fate of Raymond Hewson? Could it, I wonder? Well, good night. Sleep well." [29:53]

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Notable Quotes

• Vincent Price / Narration:

  "Isn't it strange how the coming of night can alter the whole shape, appearance, even the atmosphere of a house or a room? Sounds are different at night too." [01:42]

• Ms. Frayne:

  "If you are at all susceptible to atmosphere, you are in for a most uncomfortable night." [06:44]

• Raymond Hewson:

  "Better have a. That's better. Or Zane. It's not good enough. I'm going upstairs. I'm not going to spend the night with a lot of shifty bloody dummies who move when you're not looking." [18:13]

• Dr. Bordet:

  "The collectors collect anything according to their individual tastes. I collect throats." [23:39]

• Vincent Price:

  "His previous employers had been wrong in crediting him with no imagination. If anything, he had an overabundance of that particular commodity." [27:49]

• Final chilling sign-off:

  "Could it really have been the waxworks, those vacant, staring effigies laughing at the fate of Raymond Hewson? Could it, I wonder? Well, good night. Sleep well." [29:53]

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Memorable Moments & Tension Highlights

• The introduction of Dr. Bordet’s figure and Ms. Frayne’s account of his legend sets an early tone of unease [09:35–11:52].
• Raymond’s increasing paranoia—the sense that the wax figures are watching and even moving—escalates the psychological horror [16:49–18:13].
• Bordet’s sudden “awakening” and casual malice—his cool explanation of how he switched places with the waxwork combines plausible crime and supernatural suggestion [20:41–22:43].
• The ambiguous cause of Raymond’s death: no mark is found, leaving both rational and supernatural explanations open [27:49–29:53].

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Timeline of Important Segments

• 00:06 – Vincent Price’s opening remarks
• 01:02–01:42 – Podcast host introduces "The Waxwork"
• 03:08–04:46 – Vincent and Raymond's meeting, the dare revealed
• 05:14–06:56 – Ms. Frayne grants permission, warns of the chamber’s atmosphere
• 09:01–09:35 – Introduction to the waxwork gallery
• 09:35–11:52 – Dr. Bordet’s legend explained, his figure unnerves all
• 13:08–14:13 – Raymond settles in for the night, the experiment begins
• 16:05–18:13 – Raymond’s nerves fray, watchman’s unsettling joke
• 20:40–25:54 – Dr. Bordet is revealed alive, confesses his crimes
• 27:49–29:53 – Discovery of Raymond’s body, Price’s philosophical musings

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Tone & Atmosphere

• Filled with classic Gothic dread, the episode maintains a blend of dry British humor and psychological horror.
• Vincent Price’s voice, at once bemused and ominous, gives the tale a wry, chilling edge.
• Dialogue drips with unease and resignation; characters are distinctly British in their blend of skepticism and fatalism.

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Conclusion

"The Waxwork" stands as a superb example of old-school radio horror—grounded in atmosphere, psychological suspense, and subtle supernatural suggestion. Vincent Price’s narration and the interplay between the characters elevate a simple premise into a memorable parable about imagination, fear, and crossing the line between observer and victim.

For fans of classic horror or radio drama, this is a must-listen episode. But as Vincent Price reminds us:

"Well, good night. Sleep well." [29:53]

Transcript

[Vincent Price]

Oh, stories. Real stories. And murder too.

[Raymond Hewson]

Turn out your legs.

[Vincent Price]

Turn them out. Good evening. Come in, won't you? Why, what's the matter? Surely you're not nervous? Perhaps you can't I tell you a story?

[Raymond Hewson]

We are meant to call from out of the past. Stories strange weird tales of mystery and terror by radio's masters of the macabre story of the supernatural, the supernormal dramatized life that faith, the mysteries, the unknown. We tell you this Franklin. So if you wish to avoid the excitement tension of these magnet play, we urge you our latest theory to turn off your brain.

[Relic Radio Host]

Welcome back to the horror Old fashioned fear from the golden age of radio since 2007@ Relicradio.com we're going to hear from the Price of Fear this week. A series that first aired from September of 1973 to May of 1974 over BBC radio. It returned from May to July of 1983. The story we'll hear today is from October 13th, 1973. It's titled the Waxwork.

[Vincent Price]

The Price of Fear brought to you by Vincent Price. Browsing through a book of quotations the other day I came across the old Scottish prayer to ward off evil spirits. You remember from ghoulies and ghosties and long leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night. Well, isn't it strange how the coming of night can alter the whole shape, appearance, even the atmosphere of a house or a room. Sounds are different at night too. Anyway, reading that old incantation I was reminded of the tragic case of Raymond Hewson. It's an odd story which I've called the Wax Work. So let me tell you about it. Some years ago I was working on a film in London. One evening after we'd finished, I decided to take advantage of a little free time before a dinner engagement and to walk back to my hotel exploring London as I did. So I'd been walking for about an hour when I came across an evening inviting looking pub in an alley just off Baker Street. I went in and ordered a glass of beer and a sandwich. No sooner had I got my drink enjoying the early evening atmosphere of the place than I was surprised to hear someone calling my name.

[Raymond Hewson]

Vincent, I say. Vincent.

[Vincent Price]

Oh good Lord. Raymond Hewson. I haven't seen you for years.

[Raymond Hewson]

That's right. Not since. Oh, not, not, not since I did those extra bits of dialogue for that film. What was it called? Oh dear. The Thing without a thing or some such name. Well, I must say it really is the most amazing coincidence running into tonight of all nights. In fact, in a way, you might say it's providential.

[Vincent Price]

Raymond was a spare, pale man with lank brown hair, and although he spoke plausibly, even forcibly, he had the and somewhat furtive air of a man used to being snubbed. He looked, in fact, exactly what he was. A man gifted somewhat above the ordinary, who was a failure through his own lack of self assertion. He made a living as a freelance writer. And like most freelance writers, he was always hard up. Indeed, when he spoke of our meeting as being providential, I half expected that he was leading up to asking for a small loan. He. But that night, Raymond had other things on his mind.

[Raymond Hewson]

You see, I've arranged to spend tonight all night in the Chamber of Horrors at the waxworks around the corner. I'm hoping to write a piece about it and get it published. Now, if I could work one or two observations from you into the story, it'd be a great selling point. Do you mind?

[Vincent Price]

Oh, no, not at all.

[Raymond Hewson]

Look, Vincent, I know you're very busy, but I wonder if you'd mind doing me a favor.

[Vincent Price]

Oh, anything, my dear chap, within reason.

[Raymond Hewson]

Well, all I want you to do is come with me to the waxworks and see me settled in. No, it won't take very long. It's only a few minutes walk.

[Vincent Price]

Well, I do have a little time to spare and I must confess that I. I find the idea rather interesting.

[Raymond Hewson]

Oh, good for you. Well, now, look here, let me buy you a drink and then we'll go around to the waxworks. Now, I have an appointment with the director, Ms. Frane, at half past seven. So we've just got time.

[Ms. Frayne]

You must realize, Mr. Hewson, that there's nothing new in your request. In fact, we have to refuse it to different people at least three times a week.

[Vincent Price]

What kind of people, I wonder, would want to spend all night alone in a waxworks?

[Ms. Frayne]

Oh, mostly foolish young men who've made bets or who are trying to prove something to themselves.

[Raymond Hewson]

Do you always refuse?

[Ms. Frayne]

We do, I'm afraid. You see, if some young idiot were to lose his senses, we should find ourselves in a most embarrassing position. Of course, in this case, your being a writer, Mr. Hewson, somewhat alters the situation.

[Vincent Price]

I suppose you mean that writers have no senses to lose?

[Ms. Frayne]

Oh, no. But one imagines them to be responsible people.

[Raymond Hewson]

You can't know many writers, Ms. Frayne.

[Ms. Frayne]

And of course, in your case, we have something to gain. Publicity.

[Raymond Hewson]

Publicity? Erm, yes. Well, that brings me to another point.

[Ms. Frayne]

I think I know what's coming. Well, I have in fact already been in touch with our advertising manager, and he has agreed that in the event of your article being published in one of the national dailies, you will receive some payment from us.

[Vincent Price]

Raymond, how do you intend to treat this story?

[Raymond Hewson]

Well, to make it gruesome, of course. Well, gruesome, but with just a saving touch of humor. But I don't have to tell you anything about presenting horror with humor, Vincent.

[Vincent Price]

Well, perhaps not. I think I get the general idea.

[Ms. Frayne]

Well, Mr. Hewson, I wish you good luck with the story. But first I must warn you that it is no small ordeal that you are about to attempt. And I confess that it's not something I should like to do.

[Vincent Price]

May I ask why?

[Ms. Frayne]

So difficult to explain? But I'll tell you what. Come along now and see for yourselves. But I warn you, Mr. Hewson, that if you are at all susceptible to atmosphere, you are in for a most uncomfortable night.

[Raymond Hewson]

Oh, that's all right. Newspaper editors never stop telling me I have no imagination whatsoever.

[Vincent Price]

Although Raymond appeared to take the whole affair lightly, I knew him well enough to realize that he was not looking forward to the ordeal. He was obviously down on his luck, and I rather think he saw the whole thing as a last desperate gamble. These thoughts crossed my mind as we followed Miss Frayne through half a dozen rooms where attendants were busy shrouding the kings and queens of England and those others whose fame or notoriety had rendered them eligible for this kind of immortality.

[Ms. Frayne]

I've asked the porter to make you as comfortable as possible, but don't expect too much. I've also given instructions for the figures downstairs to remain uncovered. Through here, gentlemen, please. Oh, before I forget, I must ask you not to smoke. We had a fire scare here this afternoon. I don't know who raised the alarm, but whoever it was, it proved to be a false one. Mind your heads as we go downstairs.

[Vincent Price]

Ms. Frayne led the way down an ill lit stone stairway, which conveyed the sinister impression of giving access to a dungeon. On reaching the bottom, we passed along a small passage in which were displayed a few preliminary horrors, such as relics of the Spanish Inquisition and a pair of early English stocks. In turn, this corridor opened into a dimly lit room with a vaulted roof. It was, by design an eerie and uncomfortable chamber, the very atmosphere of which invited its visitors to speak in whispers. The waxworks figures stood on low pedestals with numbered tickets at their feet. Seeing them elsewhere without knowing whom they represented, one would have thought them a dull, even a shabby looking collection. But gathered together in that sinister room. Ooh.

[Ms. Frayne]

Well, here we are, gentlemen. Recent notoriety is rubbing shoulders with all the old favorites. Perhaps you recognize one or two of them. This, of course, is the famous Dr. Crippen. Insignificant little fellow, isn't he? Over there is Wilkinson the Strangler. And there you see a tableau depicting the murder of the two little princes in the Tower of London.

[Vincent Price]

It's a very dark Tower of London.

[Ms. Frayne]

Yes, I'm sorry that I can't give you any more light, but that's all there is. For obvious reasons, we keep this place as murky as possible.

[Raymond Hewson]

Good Lord. Who's that over there?

[Ms. Frayne]

Ah, yes. I was coming to him. That's one of our star turns. A present day murderer who has never paid the price for his crimes.

[Vincent Price]

The figure which Hewson had indicated was that of a small, slight man, not much more than five feet in height. It wore waxed mustaches, spectacles and a voluminous cape. There was something so exaggeratedly French in its appearance that it reminded me of a stage caricature. Something out of one of those delightful bedroom farces by Federeux. I could not say precisely why that mild looking face seemed so repellent, but I found myself instinctively taking a step backwards.

[Raymond Hewson]

Nasty looking character, isn't he? Who is it?

[Ms. Frayne]

That is Dr. Bordet.

[Vincent Price]

Bordet? I've heard that name recently. Bordet? I can't remember in what connection.

[Ms. Frayne]

You'd remember better if you were a Frenchman. For a long time he was the Terror of Paris. He carried on his work of healing by day and of throat cutting by night.

[Vincent Price]

Oh, yes, I remember now. Wasn't it said that he killed people for the sheer devilish pleasure it gave him? And always with a razor.

[Ms. Frayne]

That's right. After his last crime, he left behind a clue which set the police on his trail. In fact, they soon amassed enough evidence to send him to the madhouse or the guillotine on a dozen capital charges.

[Raymond Hewson]

But I thought you said that he was never caught.

[Ms. Frayne]

Oh, he was caught all right, and tried and convicted. But somehow he managed to escape and cheated the guillotine. One or two crimes of a similar nature have taken place in London quite recently. But then it's queer, isn't it, how every notorious murderer has imitators? Anyway, most of the experts believe that he is quite definitely dead.

[Raymond Hewson]

Well, I don't like him at all. Those eyes, they seem to bite into you.

[Ms. Frayne]

Yes, don't they? This figure's a little masterpiece. It's excellent realism, really, for Bordet practiced hypnotism and was supposed to mesmerize his victims before dispatching them.

[Vincent Price]

Oh, I see. I was wondering how so small a man could have managed to overcome his victims.

[Ms. Frayne]

Well, it was mesmerism, at least. There was never any sign of a struggle.

[Raymond Hewson]

Do you know, I thought I saw him move.

[Vincent Price]

Oh, come on now, Raymond.

[Raymond Hewson]

No, he moved, I tell you.

[Ms. Frayne]

You'll have more than one optical illusion before the night's out, I expect, Mr. Hewson. But remember, you won't be locked in. You can come upstairs whenever you've had enough of it. There are watchmen on the premises, so don't be surprised if you hear them moving. I've told them you're here.

[Vincent Price]

By the way, Raymond, you quite sure you want to go through with this?

[Raymond Hewson]

Of course. And I think it's very mean of you not to have offered to stay with me.

[Ms. Frayne]

Oh, that wouldn't be fair, Mr. Hewson. You must be quite alone.

[Raymond Hewson]

Don't think I won't mention you in my story, Vincent. Though I may as well tell you that I shall feature heavily as the hero.

[Vincent Price]

Raymond, I assure you that even if I didn't already have a dinner engagement, I should say, be only too happy to let you stay here all night by yourself. This place gives me the creeps.

[Ms. Frayne]

Well, Mr. Hewson, I'll wish you a very good night.

[Vincent Price]

And so do I, Raymond. A very good night and a successful story to celebrate tomorrow. Why don't you give me a ring? I'm at Jamison's Hotel in the Strand.

[Raymond Hewson]

Thanks, I'll do that. Well, good night.

[Ms. Frayne]

Good night, Mr. Hewson.

[Raymond Hewson]

And thanks for tucking me in.

[Vincent Price]

And so we left him. And after a quick and I must confess, welcome drink in Miss Frayne's office, I went back to my hotel to get changed for dinner. It must have been at about 3 o' clock the next morning that I received an urgent telephone call from Miss Frayne asking me to return to the waxworks immediately.

[Ms. Frayne]

And this is how our night watchman found him. He thought he heard somebody scream and came down here to investigate and immediately rang me at my flat. And I'm afraid that when I found what had happened, I rather panicked and rang you. You see, I didn't know what else to do. I didn't have his home number or anything.

[Vincent Price]

I understand. Have you notified the police? It's usual, you know, in cases of sudden death.

[Watchman]

I did think of it, sir, but I thought it better to ring Miss Frayne first. I could see at once it was too late to Call a doctor.

[Ms. Frayne]

I'm afraid I didn't think too clearly. Oh, how awful. This is the sort of thing we've always tried to avoid. What will the directors say?

[Vincent Price]

Well, there's time enough to let them know later. Have you any idea of how it could have happened?

[Watchman]

Not at all, sir. I just heard this scream, like, and came running.

[Vincent Price]

I noticed Raymond's notebook lying on the floor by the tape recorder, which had run out. I began idly turning over the pages. And what follows is my own interpretation of what happened from the time Ms. Frayne and I had left him on that fatal evening. Why don't you give me a ring? I'm at Jamieson's Hotel in the Strand.

[Raymond Hewson]

Oh, thanks. Yes, I'll do that. Well, good night.

[Ms. Frayne]

Good night, Mr. Hewson.

[Raymond Hewson]

Thanks for tucking me in. Right. Now, let's get organized. Now, let me see. Notebooks, pencils, tape recorder. It's in working order. Flask. Yes. Mustn't forget that. Oh, God, it's cold down here. I wish I brought a blanket. Now, rough notes first and then record. Should get a nice creepy atmospheric piece. Might even flog it to the BBC. Right. The dim, unvarying light fell on the rows of figures which were so uncannily like human beings. The air in the chamber was stagnant as the water at the bottom of a standing pond. Good God, what's that?

[Watchman]

Oh, good evening, sir. Starkly, did I. I'm very sorry. Ms. Frayne asked me to bring down this chair for you. She thought it might be more comfortable than the one you've got, sir.

[Raymond Hewson]

Oh, God, you made me jump.

[Watchman]

Yes, it does get you like that Downs here, sir.

[Raymond Hewson]

Creepy, that's what it is. Creepy.

[Watchman]

Now, sir, where would you like this chair? Over here, by Dr. Mordet.

[Raymond Hewson]

No, no, not there. No, just leave it over there in the gangway. I'll put it where I want it later.

[Watchman]

Oh, very good, sir.

[Raymond Hewson]

Will this do? Yes, thank you.

[Watchman]

Well, sir, I'll wish you good night. I'll be upstairs if you want me. Oh, and by the way, sir, don't let any of them sneak up behind you, sir, and touch you with their clammy hands. Good night, sir.

[Vincent Price]

Stupid old fool.

[Raymond Hewson]

And he gave me a heart attack. Now, where to put this damn chair? By a little Frenchman. God, how those eyes dig into one. Now, I know, I know. I'll sit here with my back to him. Then I won't have to look at his face. Why not? I'm not afraid of him. Or am I? Come on. Come on. Hewson. Come on, come on, come on, old son. Your nerves have started playing tricks already. He's only a waxwork. They're all only waxworks. What was that? Something moved. Come on, come on. This won't do.

[Vincent Price]

No.

[Raymond Hewson]

Where was I? Yes, yes. Stagnant as the water at the bottom of a standing pond. Yes, that's good. Now, note here. After a while, it seemed as if the figures moved when not being watched. But there was not a breath of

[Vincent Price]

air

[Raymond Hewson]

in the chamber to stir the curtain or to rustle a hanging drapery. There.

[Vincent Price]

Good.

[Raymond Hewson]

That's fine. Now clean it up and get this bit on tape. The dim, unvarying light fell on the rows of figures which. Hello. Something moved again. I could swear it. It's Crippen. Every time I take my eyes off him, he moves. Dammit, they all do. Better have a. That's better. Or Zane. It's not good enough. I'm going upstairs. I'm not going to spend the night with a lot of shifty bloody dummies who move when you're not looking. What's the time? Half past one. Six more hours. I'll never do it. What's that? He's Crippen again. I nearly caught him that time. You better be careful, Crippen and all the rest of you. I'll smash you all to pieces. Yeah. Jimmy, Why don't I go? Why should I sit here scribbling when I can write all this up tomorrow? Oh, no. What's that?

[Vincent Price]

All right.

[Raymond Hewson]

All right.

[Vincent Price]

All right. All right. All right. All right.

[Raymond Hewson]

Now, I'm Raymond Hewson, freelance writer. I've been here in this chamber of horrors for what, a few hours? My nerves are beginning to play tricks on me. And that's all they are, tricks. Oh, I'm a living, breathing man and all around me are statues. Dummies. They can't move and they can't whisper. Neither can they breathe. By God, one of them is. Somebody else in this room is breathing.

[Vincent Price]

You.

[Raymond Hewson]

Dr. Bodette.

[Vincent Price]

You moved.

[Raymond Hewson]

Yes, you did, Daniel. I saw you.

[Dr. Bordet]

Good evening, monsieur.

[Raymond Hewson]

I was right. You did move.

[Dr. Bordet]

Quite right, my dear friend. And now let me get off this ridiculous.

[Raymond Hewson]

Don't come near me.

[Dr. Bordet]

Really, Mr. Youson, let us not be melodramatic, huh? Ah, that's better. One gets so stiff standing in the same position all the time. I need hardly tell you that I never expected to have the pleasure of a companion here for the night.

[Raymond Hewson]

Oh, what the devil are you?

[Dr. Bordet]

My dear sir, have no illusions. I'm not one of these contemptible effigies miraculously come to life. I am Dr. Burdet himself.

[Raymond Hewson]

But I don't understand.

[Dr. Bordet]

How do I come to be here? Let me explain. You see, for some time now, I've been living quietly in England. Well, late this afternoon, as I was passing this building, I saw a policeman regarding me somewhat too closely. So I mingled with the crowd and came in here. And when I entered this chamber, I saw at once my means of escape from the so inquisitive policeman.

[Raymond Hewson]

I don't understand.

[Dr. Bordet]

Ah, you have no imagination at all, sir. It was so simple. I raised a cry of fire, stripped my effigy of the cape, hid it and simply took its place on the platform.

[Raymond Hewson]

But you must have been there for hours. Didn't anyone notice you?

[Dr. Bordet]

One small boy. Only he screamed and said that he saw me moving. I understood that his parents threatened to give him a good hiding on his return home. I can only hope that the threat has been executed to the letter.

[Raymond Hewson]

So you really are Dr. Bourdette. What a scoop. Scoop?

[Dr. Bordet]

Oh, yes, yes. Well, we shall see.

[Raymond Hewson]

I think I nearly packed up and went. Fantastic. Missing this. What a story, Dr. Podet. The French dragged the Ripper.

[Dr. Bordet]

A slight exaggeration.

[Raymond Hewson]

But why do it? Why commit these awful murders?

[Dr. Bordet]

You see, the world is divided into two classes. The collectors and the non collectors. The collectors collect anything according to their individual tastes. I collect throats. No, no. Do not attempt to move. It is useless. You cannot move unless I say so.

[Raymond Hewson]

But my notes. I must get all this down and I'll never have another chance like this.

[Dr. Bordet]

Exact more. You have given me the opportunity of gratifying my somewhat unusual whim.

[Raymond Hewson]

Just hold on a minute.

[Dr. Bordet]

Ah, but you have a skinny neck. If you will overlook such a personal.

[Raymond Hewson]

You look here, Dr. Bloody Bodette. If you think you could never have

[Dr. Bordet]

selected you from choice. I like thick necks. Thick, red, meaty necks. But enough talking.

[Raymond Hewson]

Enough talking. I haven't even started yet. I'm not alone here, you know. Haven't I got to shout? And the watchman will come running. And where will you be then?

[Dr. Bordet]

This is a little French razor. The blade, you observe, is very narrow.

[Raymond Hewson]

Look, I promise not to say a word about you being here and not to use the story until.

[Dr. Bordet]

Does the razor suit you, sir? Well, we shall look.

[Raymond Hewson]

I won't use a damn story at all.

[Dr. Bordet]

No, sir. Your appeals are useless. You are now completely under my control. You cannot even speak unless I tell you to do so. Now you will please have the goodness to raise your chin a little. Thank you. Just a fraction more. Mercy, monsieur.

[Vincent Price]

Mercy.

[Dr. Bordet]

That is

[Raymond Hewson]

parfait.

[Vincent Price]

Poor Raymond. When I had finished reading his notes, I turned my attention to the tape recorder. Of course, the batteries had run flat hours ago, but the ever obliging Raymond had brought along his own replacements, which were lying conveniently at his feet, unused. Carefully, I rewound the tape and switched the machine over to playback. Standing there in silence, the three of us listened as the tape played, hoping perhaps to find the answer to Raymond's sudden death. When it had finished, we stood there looking at each other, puzzled. Then I rewound the last few moments of the tape and played it again. And only then did I understand.

[Raymond Hewson]

Now, you look here at Dr. Bloody Bodette if you think enough talking. I haven't even started yet. I'm not alone here, you know. I've only got to shout and the watchman will come running. Where will you be then? Look here. Look, I promise not to say a word about you being here and not to use a story until. Look, I won't use a damn story at all.

[Vincent Price]

The waxwork figures stood apathetically in their places, waiting to be admired by the crowds who would soon wander fearfully among them. In their midst. In the center gangway, Raymond Hewson sat still leaning far back in his armchair. His chin was tilted up, as if he were waiting to receive attention from a barber. And although there was not a scratch upon his throat, he was cold and dead. His previous employers had been wrong in crediting him with no imagination. If anything, he had an overabundance of that particular commodity. As I left that sinister chamber, I glanced back. Dr. Bordet on his pedestal watched the dead man unemotionally. He did not move, nor was he capable of motion. But then, after all, he was only a waxwork. One thing, however, still troubles me. That laughter on the tape. Of course, it could have been on the tape already. It has since. I confess crossed my mind that perhaps Ms. Frayne had added it, hoping for extra publicity. Perhaps, I thought, that was why she had not called the police at once. But these thoughts I dismissed as being both ungallant and impractical. But what else could explain it? The alternative is too awful to think of. Could it really have been the waxworks, those vacant, staring effigies laughing at the fate of Raymond Hewson? Could it, I wonder? Well, good night. Sleep well.

[Dr. Bordet]

That was Vincent Price, bringing you the price of fear. Also starring in the waxwork was Peter Barkworth, with Cyril Shapps, Joan Cooper and Christopher Bidmead. The waxwork was first recounted by a.m. burridge, dramatised by Barry Campbell and produced by John Dy.

[Relic Radio Host]

There's more Old time radio@ Relicradio.com More from the Price of Fear, the Horror and all the other Relic Radio podcasts and a shoutcast stream with even more Old Time Radio. You can donate through the website if you'd like to help support support it or visit donate. Relicradio.com for more information on that. Thanks again to those who have thanks for joining me this week. Be back tomorrow with Strange Tales and next Saturday with our next episode of the Horror.