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The Relic Radio Show (old time radio)
Rocky Jordan and The Shadow
The Relic Radio Show begins with Rocky Jordan this week. We'll hear The Face Of Diana, from January 22, 1950. (30:22) Our second story in Mansion Of Madness, the November 5, 1939, episode of The Shadow. https://traffic.libsyn.com/forcedn/e55e1c7a-e213-4a20-8701-21862bdf1f8a/RelicRadio934.mp3 Download RelicRadio934 | Subscribe | Spotify | Support The Relic Radio Show If you’d like to support Relic Radio, please consider a donation [...]
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Rocky Jordan
This is the Relic Radio Show. Old Time Radio Entertainment still standing the test oftime from relicradio.com. this is the Relic Radio show with another 60 minutes of radio drama. As we do every Tuesday@ Relicradio.com. our first story comes from Rocky Jordan. This week we'll hear his episode from January 22, 1950, titled The Face of Diana. After that, it's the Shadow and Mansion of Madness. That story aired November 5, 1939. Sunday is a big day on CBS. Still waiting in the wings to bring you a variety of entertainment are Rocky Jordan, Horace Height, Eve Arden, Joe Stafford, the Whistler, Red Skelton. Now Del Monte Foods bring you a world of adventure with Rocky Jordan. Chris. Chris. I'm right here, Rock. You want something? I sure do. How'd she get in there? She who? And Lady Godiva with a short bob. What? Lady Godiva. Oh, as if you didn't know. Come on, take a look. But nobody could have gotten in here without the. Well, Rocky. All right, Chris, cut it out. Not bad. Not bad at all. Okay, okay. How'd she get in? I don't know, Rock. Nobody could have gotten past me. Well, somebody did. If it's not a gag, there was a reason for it. Either way, I don't like it. Now get her out of here. Okay, okay, you're the boss. But you may be breaking up. The beginning of a beautiful friendship. Del Monte, the brand you trust flavor in so many good foods. Yes, Del Monte, the best like brand of canned fruits and vegetables in the whole wide world. Takes you now to the Cafe Tambourine for another adventure with Rocky Jordan. The Cafe Tambourine in Cairo, gateway to the ancient east, where modern adventure and intrigue unfold against the backdrop of antiquity. Tonight's Rocky Jordan story, the Face of Diana. Well, that's the way it started. Innocent, nothing to worry about. Just a gag. Maybe. Only before it was over, I found out the joke was on me. And I wasn't laughing. It began when I walked into my office at the tambourine one afternoon to find her staring at me from the opposite wall. Eyes a little too blue, lips a little red. Chris didn't know how she got in, and it was a sure thing. I'd never seen her before. What's more, it was all right with me if I never saw her again. Only Chris had other ideas. Rocky, you really think we ought to get rid of her? It'll be your age, Chris. You've seen paintings before. Ah, but never one like this. How do you suppose it got in here? It didn't just walk in. Paintings don't have legs. No? Look again. All right, all right. People don't just pin pictures on my wall unless there's an angle to it. There's a title here. Diana at the Fountain. It may be the artist's signature. Hello, Tambourine. Hello, Rocky. Well, how do you like it? How do I like what? Diana at the Fountain. The picture. What else? Look. Who is this? Willie? Willie Rosen. You know, the painter down at the Muskie Bazaar. So you dumped that painting in my office? That's right. Those meals you've been letting me have on the cuff. I just thought I'd give you Diana, sort of as a payment. Look, Willie, forget the bill if you want her, but come and get this thing, huh? Rocky, I haven't got time. I. Wait, Rocky, I can't talk. Willy. Willie. Willie. Funny. Hung up on me. Who was it? Willie Rosen, the artist. Oh, he brought the picture in for you to keep. Not on your life. Getting rid of it as soon as we can. May I hope, then, that the picture is for sale, Mr. Jordan? I turned around. I don't know how he got there, but he was standing in the doorway, well dressed, Egyptian with the fez of the upper class. But he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were glued on the painting. I nodded for Chris to leave. I asked if it could be possible that the painting is for sale. It's possible, yes. Then would you mind if I observed it more closely? On display to all customers, limited time only. Yes, thank you. Not without merit. Excellent. Indeed, if you like that short. May I inquire where you got it? It's an old family heirloom. Oh, yes, of course. Indeed. With perspective, line coloring. Sure. A minor masterpiece. Yes, it might well be. Oh, you know how it is. All the best artists bring their stuff in here for me to handle. Mr. Jordan, I do not intend to pry into where you obtain the picture, but I am quite serious about buying it. What is your price? Ice? Oh, it's way too high. Obviously you do not recognize me. I am Kasha Bey. And I am well able to meet your figure, Mr. Jordan. Okay, I'll go along. You name it. £100. Cash. 500. Agreed, Mr. Jordan. The picture is mine. Kasha Bay pulled out a fat roll of bills, paid the £500, took the picture and was gone. The price was too high and it happened too fast. Much too fast. I decided to check on Kasha Bay. He was in the phone book, all right. Address on the Nile front in the right part of town. That made me wonder about Willie Rosen again. So I headed for his stall in the Moosquey Bazaar. That's when I got another surprise. Willie and his paintings were all gone. But somebody else was there. Wax mustache and goatee, Spotless white suit, flop brim, panama hat. And he guessed what I was after. Ah, senor. Do I perceive that you also are looking for Willie Rosen? As a matter of fact, I am. Now, where he's gone, I know only that the weaver across the way just told me that he gave up his stall this morning and his painting I've gone in payment of debts. He owed you money, of course? Oh, no, no. It's the other way around. Oh, but he did owe you money? Me? Oh, no, no, not at all. Purely a professional interest. I will explain that. I am Carlo Veroni, signor, an art dealer. Oh, I see. And you're very anxious to buy one of Rosen's paintings? Hell, I'm afraid not, senor. He an old friend of mine. I. I purchased one or two of his sketches at a small price. But only to encourage him, you understand. Oh, sure. Any idea where will he lives, Senor Veroni? His studio is not far from here. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of trying there, if you would like. Sure, Mr. Veroni. Let's go find him. Maroni took me half a block onto a street entrance and up through three flights of shaky steps to Willie's studio. I watched Ferroni's face as he knocked. There was no sound inside, so he knocked again. Right then I got the feeling that it was the wrong place to be, but it was too late. Maroney's hand was on the knob and the door swung open. Willie was there, all right. There was no use telling him he just sold a picture. There was a chair tipped over in the center of the floor. Willie's feet dangled about two feet above it, and the rafter was sagging with his weight. Well, Jordan? It's like I said on the phone, Sam. Mr. Veroni and I walked in here and found him like that. Very well. There are certain necessary questions. But of course, Captain Tabaya. Willie Rosen was a mutual friend. We came to inquire about him. It seems he's been real busy disposing of everything, Giving his paintings away to pay off debts. And even his studio is left bare. It's all quite clear. What does that mean? A man unable to face his own seeming failure. His last effort being to set his affairs in order before. Before this suicide. You got to that Awfully quick, Sam. And is it not obvious, Jordan? Sure. A little too obvious. Oh, come now. You are suggesting murder, and for what purpose? Robbery. Obviously, the man had nothing. I talked to him on the phone this afternoon, Sam. He was in good spirits. Hardly sufficient evidence. People are given to heroics at such a time. Maybe they are just the same. You better check. Check what, George? I don't know. As I thought. You have no facts. None at all. I just have a feeling. You just have a feeling. And may I point out you have had feelings before. And may I also point out that you've been wrong more times than you've been right. All right, play it your way. It's your case. It is indeed. And this time, Jordan, shall we keep it that way? Del Monte Foods is presenting tonight's Adventure with Rocky Jordan. Seems to me we're hearing a lot about budgets these days. And the big question, of course, is how to stay within one. So I have a tip for you women who are planning ways and means to eat better for less money. This year. Cook with the spicy, rich flavor of Del Monte tomato sauce. And that certainly is good advice, Larry. Del Monte tomato sauce really makes thrifty dishes. Something to talk about. Yes, it is important to cook with Del Monte tomato sauce. It gives you such a clear, zesty flavor, not too bland and not too spicy. A flavor that really builds up your hash, macaroni or Spanish rice, for instance. And Del Monte tomato sauce is so dependable, too. Ask any good cook. You know, around our house, we've used it for years. Yes, after all, Del Monte is the original tomato sauce. No other brand has matched its marvelous flavor. And what it does for the flavor of the other foods is something wonderful. Something you just have to taste to appreciate. You owe it to your own reputation as a good cook to see that you get the original tomato sauce. Del Monte. And now we take you back to Cairo and tonight's Rocky Jordan story. The face of Diana. Well, I gave up arguing with Sam. He said Willie Rosen's death was suicide. But I wasn't convinced. And there was still Kasha Bay to think about. So I left Woolly Studio and walked toward the Sharia Eldean to flag a taxi. But I didn't make it. A face at the street corner stopped me. I'd seen it before, and all at once I knew where. Pretty eyes almost too blue. Lips almost too red. She was the face on that picture Willie Rosen had brought to my cafe. Well, hello, Diana. Waiting for somebody? Your name is Diana, isn't it? I know why do you ask? But you do know Willie Rosen? Oh, yes. Yes, I know Willie. And you? Just a friend. Her name's Jordan. Cafe Tambourine. Of course. Willie's told me how kind you've been. I'm Shirley Peron. I noticed the new suitcases. Shirley. Going somewhere? Oh, Willie has been keeping secrets from you, Mr. Jordan. He and I are going to Alexandria to be married. Married? It's kind of sudden, isn't it? Not at all. We've been planning it for a long time. Shirley, did you know Willie had sold his stall in the bazaar? He'd been taking his paintings around to pay off debts. They're all gone, of course. That's how he hopes to have enough money so that we can start a little business in Alexandria. Look, I want you to answer one more question. It may be important. Of course, Mr. Jordan. What is it? When did you pose for that picture of Diana? Diana? What picture? When Willie painted of you. Of me? But he hasn't painted any picture of me. I never posed for Willie in my life. Mr. Jordan, is there something wrong? I didn't have the heart to tell her, but I did get her into a cab and on the way home what she told me, it started an idea bouncing around in the back of my head like the little ball on a roulette wheel. When the wheel stopped, it didn't say suicide. It was murder. Sam had already left Willie Rosen's. But 10 minutes later, I caught him at headquarters just as his limousine pulled up. Jordan, you again. Yeah, that's right, Sam. I thought I'd made it clear you wanted facts. I got him. Well, he was planning to get married. That's the only reason he was clearing up his debts here. You are sure of this, Jordan? Positive. Man doesn't take his life just as he's about to get married. Sam, is that all you came to tell me? No. Here are some more facts. Three, four, five. Jordan, what is this? £500, cash. I got it this afternoon from a man who came to my cafe looking for one of Willie's paintings. He wanted that picture bad, Sam. I could have named any price. That is odd. Very odd. It's more than that. Who was this man? Now we're getting someplace. Come on, Sam. I'll take you to him. We got into Sam's limousine and started for the address on the Nile front. When Sam saw what kind of neighborhood it was, he began to get jittery. But he didn't ask any more questions. The house we were looking for turned out to be a junior Grade palace overlooking the river. Sam kept puzzled eyes on me as I worked the knockout. Yes, May I. May I help you? We'd like to see Kasha Bay. Kasha Bay. Jordan, what are you doing? Kasha Bey is here. Please to come in. The servants are out for the night, but I will be happy to show you the way. She wasn't Egyptian, but she was tall and beautiful with a certain dignity. Only I had a feeling she was acting the part. With Sam, it was different. He was wiping his forehead with a big handkerchief, and it was no act. Jordan, have you quite gone out of your mind? What's the matter? Who is it? Counter. These two gentlemen would like to see you, Darling. So. Oh, Captain Zabaya, my most humble apologies. Commissioner Kashabe. Commissioner? Yes. Commissioner Jordan, I believe you have not met my wife of a few months. Countess, this is one of my most trusted captains of the police, Abaya Bay and Jordan. Don't you remember? It is a pleasure, Captain and Mr. Jordan. Now, if you two will step into my study. You will pardon us, my dear. Of course, darling. Now, Captain Zabaya, the purpose of your unappointed visit. Commissioner, I must confess. Ah, tell it, Sam. It's about your visit to my Cafe Tambourine this afternoon. Kashabee. Your Cafe Tambourine? Yeah, that's right. You bought a picture from me there by a painter named Willie Rosen. You wanted it real bad. Why, Captain Zabaya. Yes, Commissioner? Exactly how long have you been a member of the Cairo police for? For almost 10 years. Cachabe, I. It is unthinkable. I do not understand. And I will tell you. I have never seen this Mr. Jordan before. Neither have I been to his cafe, nor have I bought a picture from him today or anytime. Jordan? Don't believe it, Sam. He was there. Enough. Captain, I shall expect a formal explanation of this affair and in the proper manner. I shall submit a written report as soon as possible. That shall be with my apologies. Listen, Sam, why should I lie? Gordon, come out of this house now. Immediately. Sam marched me out, his fez flying behind him at the curb. He slammed the limousine door in my face and drove off. Now, any hope of further help from Sam was gone. So I caught a cab back to the Tambourine. By the time I got there, I was beginning to think I might be wrong. When I walked into my office, two things changed my mind. Both of them were big, native and nasty. Ah, so you have come back. Howdy. Attendee. Yeah, sure. Howdy. Look, this is a private office, but we come for the picture. I should have figured. Who sent you? Naba, tell him that we have come for the picture. Okay. As you say, bother. We come for the picture. Easy, Naba, do not strike him yet. Now the picture effect. Okay, you're several hours too late. I think the time has come that I. No, no, no, Naba, do not hit him yet. Now. Search, Naba. Search at once. Bodkar. I leave everything unturned. Have you two ever thought of trying this routine in vaudeville? Picture is not here. I do not find it. Satisfied now, Botar? Perhaps. But if the one who commands is not satisfied, we return. And when we return, we will. No, no, Naba, do not hit him yet. Come, we go now. Howdy, effendi. Okay, sure. Okay. To you too. I forgot to thank them for telling me I was right. The painting willingly had given me held all the answers. I was out to try and find them. First to the art gallery of Willie's friend, Carlo Veroni on the Sharia Mildan. The hour was late, but the place was still open. It was full of the usual statues and check prints of famous pictures along the wall. Baroni was there. And somebody else. The girl I'd met on the street that afternoon. Shirley Perron. Oh, Senor Jordan. It is good that you came. I've been consoling Ms. Peron on Willie's death. Sure. Hello, Shirley. Sorry I didn't tell you about Willie. I. It doesn't matter, Mr. Jordan. It's just that I can't understand. The police think Willie did it himself. No, no, that's impossible. We were so happy. Let's clear up something, Shirley. You told me Willie hoped to have enough money to start a business in Alexandria. He wasn't going to get it by selling his paintings. But he was. He had one painting he treasured. Not his own, but an original dega he'd had for a long time. Surely not genuine. Yes, I'm certain. And he must have sold it because it. It wasn't in his room when they found him. There wasn't any money there either. I hadn't thought about that. Suppose somebody was after the daga. Where would will he be able to hide it? Momento, Signor Jordan. There is a way used by many to hide a valuable painting. Let's hear it, Mr. Baroni. And our taste is only to apply a coating of shellac on the original and then paint another picture over it. Meaning? Maybe the painting Willie gave to me might. There's only one way to find out. I'll see you later. Whether Baroni's hunch was right or not. It took me back to the house of Kasha Fay on the Nile. There was a light in one of the upper windows, but the lower floor was dark. I scouted the side windows till I found one that came open. I hit the jackpot. The room was used for storage, full of odds and ends of furniture. I lit a match and went to work. Finally, in a far corner, covered by a tapestry, I found it. Diana at the fountain. That's as far as I got. You will observe the gun, Mr. Charlton. I always do. I had hoped you would not return. Now I ask why. Only to find something Kashape. A valuable dagger painting. I fail to understand. Sure, but you didn't give me £500 just for Diana at the fountain this afternoon. The dagger's underneath, right? Let's have a look. Do not touch the picture. You won't use that gun, Kasha. Pay. I regret that you make it necessary. I paid you for the picture a fair price. Now you are broken into my house and I have every right. Kasia. No, Countess. What are you doing? Do not come in here. There is no other way. No, no. Give me the gun, Kasia. Give it to me. Very well. I suppose I owe you some thanks, Countess. Yes, yes, you do. However, I. I think it is best that you now know the truth. No, my dear, no. Yes. It is too late to do otherwise. Wait here, Mr. Jordan. She left the room and in a moment she was back. With a bottle that held some kind of liquid, she stepped to the painting and with a cloth began carefully rubbing the liquid on the face. Slowly the face of Diana faded and in its place another one came through. Only it wasn't anything painted by Dega. It was the face of the Countess, Kasha Bey's wife. So now you know, Mr. Jordan. I see, Countess. Only you're really just an artist model. You posed for that picture yourself. Yes, I. I lied to become Kasha Bey's wife. I bought up every picture ever painted of me except this one. To keep your husband from finding out. I did not know that he had learned my secret long ago. So you were both after the painting? Only Kasha Baker. At first. You must understand, Mr. Jordan, I forgave my wife the moment I learned of her lie. But there were others who sure it wouldn't be good. The right people found out I had presented her as one of station. My position, my future were in jeopardy. And it was even worth. Strong arm methods, huh? Who paid Botar and his pal anyhow? You or the Countess? No, no, no. They were in my employ. And did you have them kill Willie? I. Wait, Mr. Jordan. The Countess had nothing to do with that part. I killed Willie Rose. No, it is not true. But it is. I went to his studio. You must believe me, Jordan. It's a good try, Kasha Bay, but it won't work. Well, he was killed not more than 10 minutes after I talked to him on the phone. You were in my office then, buying his picture, remember? But it could not have been my wife. It could not have been. It could have, but I don't think it was. Yeah. The answer this time's in another painting. Another painting, Mr. Jordan? A Daga. An original daga. All of a sudden. I think I know exactly where to find it. Ah, Senor Jordan, you are back so soon. Yeah, I'm back, Ronnie. And the dega you have found? I sure have. Excellent. Then. And where, Mr. George, will you figure it out? Willie Rosen, painter, wants to sell a valuable dega. And where would he take it? Where else but to an art dealer? To someone he'd done business with before. An old friend. An old friend? You Baroni? Sure. Then this is preposterous. Only Willie wanted money for that painting. A lot of money. More than you were willing to pay. You insinuate you killed him, Baroni should have been obvious from the beginning. Only it all got mixed up with another painting that didn't have anything to do with it. Lies. A pack of lies. If I killed for the day guy, where is it now? Some nice prints you got on your walls, Veroni. Those? They're only cheap copies. Are they? Then I'll buy them. Jordan. What are you doing with it? With this jackknife? It's not for you, Veroni. It's for these. Pictures like this. You're mad. You've lost your senses. Not that one, huh? Let's try this next one. Not that one either. And maybe this. And I knew I had it. He grabbed a pony van Gogh off the wall and swung. The frame glanced off my head and I bopped him with a fake Picasso. He shoved a statue of Venus at me. The knife platted out of my hand. He made a dive, but I grabbed a modernistic print of a hatching ostrich egg and I came down. Maroni's head poked through where the egg used to be. That's when he decided to call it a day. In just a moment, Rocky Jordan returns to conclude tonight's story. As most of us know, raiding the icebox is a favorite pastime with the American male. And it's even more of a treat when there's plenty of that zesty Del Monte catsup handy to go with those late evening snacks. There's nothing like a cold beef sandwich topped off with that wonderful rich spiced tomato flavor of Del Monte catsup. Well, as a matter of fact, Larry, Del Monte catsup is wonderful on any food that calls for catsup. As my family's favorite cook, I know from experience how Del Monte catsup adds so much zip and zest to other foods. And one of the big reasons Del Monte catsup has such rich, lively flavor is pineapple vinegar. Yes, Del Monte is the only catsup made with pineapple vinegar. A superlatively fine vinegar that coaxes out all that tempting, deep down tomato flavor. It gives Del Monte catsup an extra lift. A special zip and zest that means real enjoyment when beans, hash or chops need extra man appeal. Just see if the delicious spiced tomato flavor of Del Monte catsup doesn't do the trick for downright eating enjoyment. Friends, be sure your next bottle of catsup is Del Monte. Back now to Rocky Jordan for the conclusion of tonight's story. Well, my game of pictures with Veroni had stirred up a big noise. The police came and honed Veroni and me both down to headquarters. Sam took over, then talked first with Veroni for a while. Next he had me brought into his office and we were alone. He gazed at me through his horn rimmed glasses. But I wasn't sure what was going on behind them. Jordan. Yes, sir. Have I not read that the Indian people of your country had a charming custom to mark the end of hostilities? The offering of the peace pipe. Yeah, that's right. Have you got one? No. All that I can offer is a cup of coffee. Will you join me? Don't mind if I do, Sam. Thanks. Now, just for the record, there are perhaps a few things you would like to tell me. Well, now he listens. I deserve that. Jordan. Forget it. That's not bad coffee, Sam. Well, it seems there was an Egyptian official. I can't remember his name. Can't remember? Oh, yes, of course. Naturally, he married a woman who posed as a countess. But then he got wind of a painting that proved she was a phony. Only trouble was this got mixed up with another painting that wasn't fake. An original dagger. The one Veroni killed Willie Rosen to obtain. That's it. The motive was simple robbery from the beginning. Only a certain official and his wife stumbled in on it. That of course, Made Veroni think he was very much in the clear. That plus your suicide theory. Very well. Yes, very well. Actually, Veroni tripped himself in trying to lead me off the track. He suggested the idea of one painting over the other. That did it. Jordan, you sure do not recall the name of this. Oh, official. Funny, it still escapes me. All I remember is that he loved his wife an awful lot. Enough to protect her by confessing to a murder he didn't commit. Love is a strange emotion, Jordan. He did not. That reminds me, Sam. I gave you £500 belonging to Willie Rosen. There's a girl named Shirley Perrone. Willie would want her to have it. And the Dega painting too. As you say, Jordan, you will find me quite amenable. After all, you have taken a most disagreeable task from my shoulders. Oh, what's that, sir? The necessity of making a formal apology to. Isn't it odd? It seems that I too have forgotten his name. Well, good night, Jordan. For the finest in tomato flavor, enjoy the whole family of Del Monte tomato products. Del Monte catsup and chili sauce. Del Monte tomato sauce and tomato juice. And Del Monte whole peeled tomatoes. Remember, buy wisely. Buy for flavor. Buy Del Monte. Del Monte, the brand you trust for flavor in so many good foods. Rocky Jordan, written by Larry Roman and Gomer Cool, stars Jack Moyles in the title role with Jane of Ello as Sam Sabaya. And in produced and directed by Cliff Howell. With original music composed and conducted by Richard Arant. Remember, you have a date next week at the Cafe Tambourine run by Rocky Jordan. Same time, same station. And the story is an air of death. Whenever you want a quick dessert or a wonderful salad, think of Del Monte peaches. Sliced or halves. They have the luscious tenderness, the natural sweetness you find only in tree ripened fruit. Yes, for superb peaches, buy Del Monte. The best liked peaches in the whole wide world. Larry Thor speaking. Rocky Jordan is presented overseas. Cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow mode. The Shadow mysterious character who furthers the forces of law and order. In reality, Lamont Cranston, wealthy young man about town. The Shadow uses his hypnotic power to cloud men's minds so that they cannot see him. Cranston's friend and companion, the lovely Margo Lane, is the only person who knows to whom the unseen voice of the Shadow belongs. Today's story, Mansion of Madness. Hello in there. Hello? Is anybody home? You didn't expect it would be, did you, Lemon? We didn't Think we saw a light as we came up the road. Martin. I'm so dang. What in the world is a medieval castle doing in this country? Lamont? Oh, you know how castles get around. Well, just as useless, Mother. No one says. Well, at last. Come on. Well, how do you do? We. You will please come this way. Thank you. Come on. Mother. I. I hope you'll pardon our intruding on you here. We saw down the road. You will please be seated. Thank you. As I started to say we were stalled down the road. I was strike a light. Thank you. Our car was. Now I will call the master. Thank you. Margo. Would you be interested in hearing how he was called? I will please be seated. Nice pleasant little man, wasn't he? Did he see his face? I saw half of it. Dolly has one side is as flat as a coin. No eye, no ear. Don't saw it plainly enough for me. Look at this room. Oh, Margaret, get out of here. Can we? I don't like him. Careful, Margot. Come on. Come on. Margot. Good evening. My man tells me you've had trouble with your car. Yes, we stuck in the mud up the road a bit. I know this is an awfully late hour. Oh, no apologies, please. This is often that visitors come to Balhouse, even by accident. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Childress Madisol, uncle of Millicent Chamfer, present mistress of Valhallen Castle. On her behalf and on my own, I welcome you. Thank you. Montestor. Ms. Margot Lane charms. Ms. Lane. How do you do? Mr. Cranston. Mr. Mondes. How do you do, sir? Delighted. Mr. Granston. May I ask him what way I can serve you? I'd like very much to use your telephone. I want to call a garage telephone. We have no such thing here. No telephone. Nothing new has been put into this catchment since it was built in 1640, nearly 300 years ago. 300 years ago? That's correct. Well, Houghton was built by Sir Austin Chancellor's early 16th century. Would you step over here a moment? Yes, yes. Come on. This is a portrait of Sir Austin. Interesting looking charity. He was forced to flee his native land because of political differences. He built this castle in the hope that he could create in this new land a replica of his ancestral esteem. And did he find happiness? Come here to this window. To that tower. It's a bit difficult surrounded by mist as it is. I don't quite. Oh, yes, yes, yes, I see. Sir Austin was found hanging by a rope from its lobsters. Suicide. Oh, how there's a superstition that has come to Balhadon ever since. A superstition about Sir Austin's death. There are those who claim that the tragedies of Valhousen recurred just as they happened originally, right down to the present day. What was that when? I pay no attention, Mr. Cranston. Don't be frightened, Miss Lane. The girl. What's wrong with her? Millicent. Go back to your apartment. Giles. Millicent. The mistress of Balhouston. It's here. It's not in my imagination this time. It started in my dressing room. It moved across the east balcony and down the service stairs. You know, there's not been a cat in Valhausen since your mother passed on. Only that one, uncle. That one. Now, Millicent, have you ever seen a cat here? No, but it was weird. Wailing, just as a pity. And I found poor mother. Come, my dear. You're frightening our guests. Then, Mr. Johnston, permit me to present Miss Millicent. My dear, we're including Harlan. Welcome. I hope you won't think me over. Oh, not at all, Miss Millicent. Miss Lane and Mrs. Branston have had a bit of an accident. They came here for help. An accident? Oh, my dear. You're not. Sir. There's nothing serious, Miss Millicent. Our car is stuck in the mud, unable to go any further. Then, by all means, you must take care to me. It's very kind of you, Miss Millicent, but I. I think we'll push on to the nearest village. I'm afraid that's not feasible. The nearest house is ten miles away, well beyond the moor. Ten miles? You couldn't sense me, Miss D. I see only one way out. You must permit us to offer the hospitality of D. Why, that's very kind of you, but I think you're most welcome. I'll have my man prepare rooms for you. And it's very late, Millicent. You must be off to bed. Yes, I'm not afraid now that I know there are others in the castle. Good night. Good night, Mr. Fenster. Good night, Miss Millicent. Good night. I believe I owe you both an explanation. You see, the child had a frightful shock several years ago. Shocked? Yes. Her mother was paralyzed during the latter years of her life being quite extensive, she lived here alone, unattended. Millicent was at school in Europe for many months. Ministers received no answer to her letters. So she came back to Valhouden and found her mother's skeleton in this room, seated in a wheelchair. Her only companion beside her A cat. Well, that explains the cat. Oh, it explains many things, Mr. Cranston. The voices she hears, the departed. Chances were to in her distorted imagination, return to bellhouse. Oh, the poor girl. Oh, I'm sure the doll must be very crying to you both. I'll hurry, Cebu, along with your rooms. Make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back directly. Yes, yes, thank you. Well, Marle, not a pretty situation, is it? Definitely not. What can you do? I'm not sure, Mar. But I'd like to stay. In fact, I must go. Wow. Well, Margot, it seems that many invisibles walk the halls of Dalhousie tonight. There will be one other. The Shadow. Don't be afraid, Ms. Medicine. I mean no harm to help you, if help is possible. I'm afraid I don't recognize your voice. What's your name? I have no name, really. I'm called the Shadow. I don't understand. Are you one of the visions? No, not one of the visions. Please, let me explain. I'm a living, breathing mortal just like you. But I possess a hypnotic power through which I can create a mental mistake that makes me invisible. Then you're not. You're not one of them. You're not. So there's nothing supernatural about these men, These. These cancelput you speak of. They're dead? Oh, yes. They come back to Dalhowding with every change of the moon. With every change of the moon. Have you seen them? I've seen them. Just as he was the knight of Hindu servants through the night of his present. A Hindu servant, did you say? Why? Nothing. Tell me about old Broton. Who was he? He was my grandson. The last male chance of blind. You say he was killed? Yes. It happened on the main station. Old Bratton had just come from a hunt on the moon to take my hand. Now tell me exactly what it is you've seen. Is murder. Just as it happened 18 years ago. First I hear his hound howling. Then I hear climb slowly to the first landing. Then he stopped short. His hand goes to his throat. He makes a gurgling sound and turns and hounds on the face. Has anyone else seen this? Anybody but yourself? No, and nobody believes me. I don't suppose you do. I believe your sir. See, Emmett, Everybody humors me like I was mad. Sibo was rude enough to smile when I told him about the vulture. Vulture? Oh, of course you don't know about that. It perches me a tree just outside that window. It comes when old Barton does. Nothing I do will drive them away. It just hollow eyes, Darington missing. Horrible Tongue? You're positive? You see all this, Ms. Millicent? I mean, there could be no mistake. There, you see? You tough me off. You said you wanted to help me. How do you think you can? I don't know. I'd hope there might be a way, but frankly, I'm bewildered. I just don't know. Lamont, will you please explain to me why we've been called a court? I've told you, Montoy. Mr. Montal has asked us to testify to what we saw and heard that night at Bellhouse in Castle. But why have we been waiting here all this time? Why can't we just go in and tell what we saw and get out of here? Because the court isn't in session. They've declared a recess. Recess? Oh, ridiculous schoolboy stuff. I'll bet you that if women were running these places, things would happen a lot faster than they do now. Now, wait a minute. I seem to recall a few shopping with you, my dear. Oh, well, that's different. And the people that hang around here, look at them. Pure criminal types, every one of them. Who, for instance? Well, that man who just came out of that room, for instance. That man there. Yes, darling, that's the judge. Oh. The court is reconvening. At one time, you have heard the testimony of Margo Lane and the Mount Francis. Two unimpeachable witnesses come into this courtroom to help send that poor girl to an institution. We couldn't help ourselves, Margo. We had to tell what we saw and heard at Belle Houghton that night. Poor Millicent. He looks so alone. It is quite obvious defendant Millicent Chandelford is of unsound mind. Evidence proves that beyond the question of doubt. My client, called Montresol, has exercised extreme patience in caring for this unfortunate girl. Now, he feels that for her own good, she should be placed in an institution where she can receive proper professional attention. Let's not solve it. Violence. Young man, what is the meaning of this advert? I'm sorry, your honor, but I just couldn't figure it wouldn't. All these lies any longer if caught. Please. Just a moment, councillor. Young man, come up here. Now, what is your connection with the defendant, Mrs. Stancifor? What? She's a girl I love. She's a girl I hope to marry till her uncle, Mr. Martisol, shut her away from me. Your honor, this boy is simply a disgruntled, rejected suitor. I got rejected? By whom? Why, Millicent? All right, I'll show you how much of a rejected suitor I Am. Millicent. Millicent. Tell him you love me. I do. I love you with all my heart. There. Do you see? Judge. Your honor, I object to this display. Judge. Let me take Millicent a watch. Let me marry her and give her the protection and affection she deserves. Young ma'am. I wish the problem before the court could be settled that easily. It pleases the court. I would like to proceed with argument on a motion to put this girl in an institution. It pleases the court to resist. 10 minutes. Perhaps we can resume in a more sedate atmosphere. Everyone will stand up as the veteran. Margo. I have an idea. And I think it can be executed by the Shadow. Shadow? Whoever you are. This is an impossible thing you are. I'd like to do it for you. Lord knows you've done enough for law and order. I've got to hand down a decision. Sign the girl's commitment papers today. Give me two days time, you Honor. Just two days. Postponement. But I just can't grant postponement on nothing. Your honor. You've got to give me some time to accomplish my goal. Please. Your Honor. Tell you what I'll do. Yes, I'm probably a sentimental old fool. But I'll give you 24 hours. So not back. But something definite. In that time I'll have to permit the girl 24 hours. That's all. It'll be sufficient. There's a change in the moon tonight. Change in the moon? Nothing blazes has that to do with the case. Maybe nothing, your honor. Maybe everything. It's funny. This rain. The way things change is just a few hours today when you and Mr. Transfer fight. I was sure I could go on hating you both for the rest of my life. We were in a bad butt rather well. But I can see now just how Monica made use of your visit to Bell Houses. What is the sort of the freak he was looking for two prominent people like you to bear out a contention that Millicent was mad. My fellow. That Monica. You'd make a nice trophy for a hunting room. I think you're huge. Hey, we're getting near Bellhouse. Don't you think we'd better go over what we're expected to do? Mr. Pan? There's not much to it. Robert. You and Ms. L wait in the turn. I'll get into the castle somehow. And I'll open the side door under Millerton for you. And the flames. We move quickly before Mons. Simple the way you tell us. How are you ever going to do it? I let you in On a little secret, Robin. I do it all with Miller. Did you manage to get in here without. Don't give me the credit. Mr. Cranston did it. I don't know how, but he turned the trick. Well, Mr. Cranston, the important thing is you and Ms. Lane are here. And you'll drop my daughter. That's all it sounds. I don't know if I can tell you. Listen. It's here. It's darting again. Don't be frightened. You won't say to the lonely man. Look. What is it, Robert? Down a tree. Up by the window. It's a vulture. Vulture? Right close to the window. He's almost within me. Robert, let me have that letter opener there on the desk. What are you going to do, Lamar? I'm going to try my hand at the gentle art of night throwing. Robert. All right. There. That back. Mother, come over here. All right, Mr. Cranston. Let her go. Bullseye, you suck it. Lightning's breath. Yeah, till he sits and squ. Interesting. Very interesting. I couldn't. There's nothing you can do. You always wait for old. The window, Robert. Cut him on. No. I hear something out in the movie. A crown. They're coming this way. All right. I don't see how anyone could live in a place like this and still hold on to the sanity. Others have reasoned that way. Margot. I don't exclude him. Margo, put out that symbol. I'm going out in the hall. I don't want the light to see through. Now open the door. Wait a minute, Mr. Cranston. I'm going to. All right, Robert, open up. Now close it. Follow me. Robert, drop down behind this balustrade. You can see the stair from the back. Mr. Cr. Yes. Look. Look. Coming around that car. That's our man. Now watch it. Hold the button, maybe. No. Keep hiding. Hear the land. You ready to run, Robert? What are we gonna do? Head him off before he can get to that big tight stone at the bottom of the stairs. Look. He stopped on the landing. Ready? Now we'll bite and choke him when he falls down the spin. Come on, Robert. Stop there where you are. Come away. Say, look out, Mr. Cranston. Barely. I got him. No use, mister. We're under your hope. Out of the way, Robert. Come. You do. You've got enough, Mr. Kosher. Oh, no. Eh? You got him. You nailed him right in the butt. Don't worry. That was quick. Who is he, Lamont? I don't know, Margot. We'll see. Track him out, Robert. I'll turn him Over. Sure. Boy, you should see that stock Mr. Cranston gave. All right. Now we'll see who the half baked man he booked. Robert. Just a present. Take Millicent to her apartment. Margot, you come with me. All right, Millicent. Job. Come on, Margot. Oh, what's next? I want to look at that Vulture tree is right outside the store. All right, Margot, after you. Thank you. There. There's our charming feathered friend. Still perched and still undeterred and still possessed of that confounded voice. Margot, take a look at this. What is it? A wire? Yes, and if I'm not mistaken it. Well, let's give it a yank and see what a long sinewy hand. Long, copper and properly insulated. There we are, Margot. Mr. Vultured Zinnard, heart, soul and mind are all encased in this little device like a radio loudspeaker. That's exactly what it is. I have no idea. Vultured, the sex deceitful creature. Margo, you take the car, drive to the village and phone the police. Don't let them know who you are. Tell them to get out here right away. What are you going to do? I'm going to follow this wire, probably to one of those abandoned guard houses at the end of the moor. Tell the police to watch for a flashlight signal and rush to the location and hold anybody they may find there. The shadow is going to find the human vulture at the other end of this line. All right, Simpson, the vulture once more longer this time to take it down and bring it in. Okay, Monica, come on. We can just connect the microphone now. You want me to do the hounds again? Yeah, it's at the thought it sound as if they're coming back across the moor. So I had to seek his evidence. What was that? Did you do that, Stevenson? No. Came from over there by the door of the hut. That laugh is not in Stevenson's repertoire of impersonation of mothersoul. Stevenson? What encounter is this? You see anybody? I'll answer for him, mother soul. He can't see me any more than you can. Well, who are you? I am the Shadow. Shadow? Oh yes, I've heard of you. Quite an elaborate array of insanity producing machinery you have here. What do you mean? The simple thought of a broadcasting outfit. We're radio amateurs, that's all. Yes, sure, that's all. Amateurs at radio, but professionals at crime. I'm afraid you're making a mistake. You're the one who's made the mistake, Montesault. You made the mistake of thinking you could drive Millicent Chancellor, but mad. Or at least make her believe herself mad. This is ridiculous. I don't know what you're talking about. You're denials don't interest me, Motherfall. I'm only concerned. Concerned with destroying your plan, your control over Move that gentle board. And a fortunate at an end. What's that? Couple automobiles cut along East Drive. Police. Monol. Coming for you and your impersonating Confederate police. Run, Monol. Run to your doom. Yeah. Oh, Castle. Looks a lot different than did the first time we came here, eh, Margo? So glad those kids are getting married. She looks very lovely in that wedding gown, doesn't she? Say, are you listening to me? Yes. Yes. I was just thinking. What about? What would happen if you were ever married. Filthy alarm. Lamont, this is pure supposition. I was just thinking of you walking up the aisle just as Robert is now. Yeah. Ready to take the sacred vows that would endure for the rest of your life. Yes, Margo. All of a sudden somebody would shoot the best man. The minister would fall down poisoned and bridesmaid would be stabbed. And you'd be off again on another case that fussed up the whole darn. Today's program is based on a story copyrighted by the Shadow magazine. All the characters and all the places named are fictitious. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The Shadow Magazine is on sale at your local newsstand. The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay, the Shadow knows. You can find more from Rocky Jordan, the Shadow, this podcast and all of the other Relic radio shows@ Relicradio.com. you'll find our shoutcast stream there as well, with even more old time radio lots to listen to there, all made possible by your support. If you'd like to help out, visit donate. Relicradio.com or click on one of the links on the website. Your support makes it all happen. Thanks to those who have helped out. Thanks for joining me this week. I'll be back tomorrow with another hour of mystery on Case Closed and next Tuesday with our next episode of the Relic Radio Show.