Theater Five and Night Beat

Summary

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The Relic Radio Show (Nov 4, 2025):

"Theater Five – Congratulations, Mr. Mayor" & "Night Beat – Fear"

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Overview

This episode of The Relic Radio Show showcases two classic audio dramas from radio's golden age. The first story, "Congratulations, Mr. Mayor" from Theater Five (original airdate Dec 8, 1964), is a chilling small-town allegory about leadership, sacrifice, and dark tradition. The second, "Fear" from Night Beat (original airdate May 25, 1951), follows reporter Randy Stone as he confronts the primal terror that lurks within himself—and within us all.

Both stories delve into human nature from different angles: one with dystopian, even Shirley Jackson-esque horror, and the other with noir-tinged psychological suspense.

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1. "Congratulations, Mr. Mayor" (Theater Five)

Main Theme

An outsider is celebrated as the new mayor of a seemingly idyllic town—until he discovers a nightmarish ritual at the heart of its tranquility.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

• The Election Victors and Small-Town Hospitality

  • Grant, a relative newcomer, wins the mayoral election with strong local support.
  • The outgoing mayor, Harry, hints at the cyclical nature of town leadership.
  • Peggy and Grant’s budding romance provides a soft counterpoint to underlying unease.

• Foreshadowing and Traditions (00:45–03:26)

  • Jokes about the "real loser is the man who wins" allude to the town's dark secret.
  • The tradition: Each mayor serves a single seven-year term, preventing stagnation.

• Establishing the Town's Perfection (11:26–13:43)

  • Harry and Alice reminisce about their own arrival and swift rise to local prominence.
  • The town seems untouched by crime, addiction, or social ills—framed as almost "too perfect."

• The Shocking Truth Unveiled (14:13–18:57)

  • On election night, Judge Saunders and others reveal the town’s secret:
    • Every seven years, the outgoing mayor is ritually executed (“sacrificed”) by the entire adult populace to release the buried violence and ensure continued peace.
    • Alice, Harry’s wife, struggles with her role in his fate.
    • The incoming mayor, often an outsider, is chosen specifically to take the fall.

• Emotional Aftermath and Irony (19:14–20:39)

  • Grant and Peggy, oblivious, enjoy a romantic moment at the lake—mirroring Harry and Alice’s past.
  • Symbolism: Grant skips stones in the lake, and Peggy desperately pleads, “Please don’t, Grant, for me... You might hit something. Hurt it.” (19:41)
  • Grant promises, “I’ll never throw another stone as long as I live,” unaware of the ritual he’s inherited.

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• On the nature of the town and tradition:
  “The real loser is the man who wins.” (00:45, B)

• Harry on the mayor’s term:
  “The town fathers knew what they were doing when they decided that a mayor should have a single seven year term. This way a man can finish what he starts, but he won’t grow stale on the ground.” (06:13, B)

• The Judge reveals the ritual:
  “Every seven years. The sacrifice of one man who can help release the violence every one of us keeps hidden and controlled for the 2,625 days or more between elections. And who could do this better than the personification of the town, its elected representative, its leader?” (16:15, C)

• Harry, understanding his fate:
  “That’s why I was picked. None of your good citizens would sacrifice themselves. It had to be a stranger like myself or Grant. Someone who would fall in love with a town and convince themselves that it fell in love with him.” (16:34, B)

• Peggy and Grant at the lake:
  “I’ll never throw another stone as long as I live. And with a wife like you to take care of me, I have a feeling that’ll be a very long time.” (19:41, B)

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Timestamps for Key Segments

• 00:45 – Opening, campaign aftermath, Grant’s gratitude
• 06:13 – Discussion of mayoral term limits and town virtues
• 11:26 – Harry and Alice’s reflection, foreshadowing displacement
• 14:13 – Ritual revealed, Harry’s realization and confrontation
• 16:34 – Harry’s bitter clarity and judgment
• 18:57 – The sentence pronounced; Alice must cast the first stone
• 19:14–20:39 – Epilogue at the lake; chilling irony

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2. "Fear" (Night Beat)

Main Theme

Randy Stone, a big-city reporter, receives a death threat from a stranger. As he navigates a night thick with paranoia, he journeys through a gauntlet of fear, realizing its universal grip.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

• Opening Reflection on Human Fear (22:18–24:34)

  • Randy is haunted by “the panic at the nightclub fire,” feeling humanity is closer to the jungle than it believes.
  • A salty, wise proofreader ("Fraser") challenges his moral superiority, urging humility and empathy.

• Letters and Threats—The Descent Starts (26:32–29:26)

  • Randy receives an anonymous letter: “Sometime between the evening of May 24th and the following morning, I am going to kill you.”
  • The killer wants him to live in fear, heightening the tension by claiming he’ll strike at random.

• The Night Becomes Ominous (30:07–33:30)

  • A cryptic phone call from Winona, Illinois, further unsettles Randy.
  • Suspicion falls on a seedy cafe regular, leading to a humorous yet tense soup-swapping episode where paranoia peaks.

• Fear’s Irrational Grip (35:54–36:09)

  • Every encounter—a nervous man, a philosopher in a doorway—feeds Randy’s spiraling anxiety.
  • “For the first time in my life, it was all strange. I hated it. I hurried toward Fullerton...the whole city was against me.” (41:56, D)

• A Real Cry for Help (42:28-48:12)

  • Upon hearing a cry from a condemned building, Randy’s fear nearly prevents him from saving a trapped stranger—paralyzed, he fears the mysterious letter-writer might be inside, lying in wait.
  • After the rescue, the killer is revealed to be a harmless sanitarium patient—a case of mistaken fear and misunderstanding.

• Perspective Restored (49:20–50:18)

  • Fraser comforts Randy:
    "Don't you get it yet, brain? We're all in the same jungle, and fear is what keeps us there. And the only way we're ever going to get out is hand in hand." (49:55, C)

• Randy’s Closing Reflection (50:18–51:55)

  • “As soon as you stop hiding it, as soon as you share it around, the sting is gone...maybe the day we all stop being afraid, maybe that’s the day the new world...will begin.”

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• Fraser, on understanding fear:
  “You won’t ever understand fear until you’ve really been afraid. I mean, afraid in every drop of blood, in every nerve. Then you’ll...maybe climb down off that pedestal.” (25:03, C)

• Randy, feeling the primal grip:
  “For the first time in my life, it was all strange. I hated it.” (41:56, D)

• Fraser’s summation:
  “We’re all in the same jungle, and fear is what keeps us there. And the only way we’re ever going to get out is hand in hand.” (49:55, C)

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Timestamps for Key Segments

• 22:18 – Randy’s introduction, panicked recollection
• 24:13 – Fraser challenges Randy’s assumptions about fear
• 26:32 – Letter of threat arrives
• 30:07 – Call from Winona, suspicion, paranoia grows
• 35:54 – Winner’s arrival, more evidence of fear taking hold
• 42:28 – “Please help me,” the condemned building crisis
• 47:21 – Resolution, killer revealed as harmless patient
• 49:20 – Fraser and Randy reflect on fear and compassion
• 50:18 – Randy’s final monologue on sharing fear

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Conclusion

This hour from The Relic Radio Show offers two masterful examinations of the shadows beneath everyday life. “Congratulations, Mr. Mayor” presents a community that purchases peace at an unthinkable price, while “Fear” is a psychological odyssey where terror proves to be the great human equalizer.

Both dramatize that what we repress—be it violence or panic—will inevitably surface, and only by facing it honestly (or communally) can we hope to transcend it.

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For more relics from radio's golden age, visit relicradio.com.

Transcript

[A]

This is the relic radio show, Old time radio entertainment still standing the test of time from relicradio.com. welcome back to the relic radio show. Another hour of radio drama for you this week as we do every Tuesday@ Relicradio.com. our first story comes from theater this week. You'll hear. Congratulations, Mr. Mayor. It's episode from December 8, 1964. After that, it's night, beat and fear. That episode aired May 25, 1951.

[B]

The elections in my town are different than most. The real loser is the man who wins. Theater Five presents Congratulations, Mr. Mayor. Well, how am I doing? Fine, Fine. With the mayor's endorsement backing you up, you can't miss. I already told you that. If I'm that much of a favorite, why did I have to work so hard in the campaign? Matter of sticking to the forms. Boy, it's all a matter of sticking to the forms.

[C]

Hello, silly headquarters. Yes, just one moment, please. It's for you, Mr. Spring.

[D]

Oh.

[B]

Oh, yeah, Spring speaking. It is?

[D]

You sure?

[B]

Well, that's even better than we'd hope. Yes, I'll tell him. Let's have it quiet for a minute, boys and girls. Quiet, please, please. That was Mike Clark over at the polls. Our candidate has pulled so far ahead that he can't possibly be caught anymore. It looks as if we've got ourselves a new mayor. Now, I do have to tell you that Durloff hasn't officially conceded yet, but if you remember last time when he was beaten by Mayor Weider and the time before that when he was beaten by Phil Carson.

[C]

Poor Mr. Durloff, always a bridesmaid.

[B]

Yes, well, anyone who remembers him 7 and 14 years ago knows that he's not exactly hasty to conceive. So we'll just have to wait for him to come to his senses. Sam, all of you, I just want to say. Well, thanks. Forget it, Grant. Oh, no, but I don't want to forget it. Just one year ago, I was a stranger to this town. The way you all took me in made me one of you. Well, I. I just don't know what to say. Well, then why try? We don't usually cozy up to strangers, Grant. But you made your mark in this town that first month when you helped to lead the drive to build the new hospital wing. Any man who could do that is no stranger. Well, yes, but. Sam, now you listen to me for a minute. You just try to be the kind of mayor that Harry Weider's been these past seven years. Do that, and the town will be well rewarded. I'LL try.

[C]

Well, congratulations, Mr. Mayor.

[B]

Thanks, Peggy. I. I want to talk to you later. There's something I have to ask you. Something I couldn't talk about before I knew how all this was going to turn out. Yes, Grant, I'm sure you can guess what I plan to ask. But I'd rather we were by ourselves than I actually ask her.

[C]

So would I. Look, here's an idea. Why not get completely away just as soon as we can get away? You can drive up to Farnes Lake.

[B]

And we can be all by ourselves in the moonlight.

[C]

Yes, of course. In the moonlight.

[B]

Listen, you two. I don't like to interrupt anything, but I just saw the mayor and Mrs. Weeder pull up outside. Peggy, why don't you run downstairs and see if there's anything you can do.

[C]

Yes, sir.

[B]

Grant, I hope you don't mind my sending Peg away, but I wanted to speak to you about her for a few seconds. What about her? Nothing. Just that she'll make some man a pretty terrific wife. You don't mince words, do you, Sam? Never learned how. Well, I really don't see why I should tell you, you old fox. But I will. I plan to ask her to marry me later tonight. Well, best wishes, boy. I mean that sincerely. Even if I will have the devil's own time finding me another secretary. Hold on there. She hasn't said she'll have me yet. Oh, she will, though take the old man's word for it, she will.

[C]

Ladies and gentlemen, quiet please.

[B]

Yes, quiet. Quiet.

[C]

Ladies and gentlemen, the Mayor is here with something to tell us.

[B]

Thanks, Ferguson. This will just take a minute. Friends, Alice, that is Mrs. Weeder and myself just visited the Durloff headquarters at his invitation. He wanted me to deliver a note to Grant. I think we can all guess what's in it, Grant. Thanks, Harry. This is certainly is. Here's what he says. Congratulations on your victory and all good wishes for a successful term is made. Thank you. Thank you. I just want to tell everyone in this room how deeply moved I am tonight. It's customary, I suppose, on these occasions to say that the victory is not the candidates alone. Tonight, that rather trite sentiment is more than true. The victory is yours. All I can do is hope to make you proud of it.

[C]

That was a lovely speech, Grant.

[B]

Well said, boy. Let me add my best wishes.

[C]

And mine.

[B]

Harry.

[C]

Alice.

[B]

You know without you two, I could never have done it. Oh, nonsense. You're what this town needs. New blood. The town fathers knew what they were doing when they decided that a mayor should Have a single seven year term. This way a man can finish what he starts, but he won't grow stale on the ground. Well, you haven't been growing stale, Harry. Well, perhaps not yet, but the signs are there. Who can say how I'd be in a year or two? Oh, come on. No, Grant, you are the best thing that could have happened to us. That goes for me too, boy.

[C]

And I'm bound to agree with my husband.

[B]

Thank you. Thank you. I won't let you down.

[C]

No, of course you won't.

[B]

Derek. Why don't we have a victory drink together? Judge Saunders is meeting Alice and me at the Brass bowl in a few minutes. Why don't the three of you come along?

[C]

Yes, that's a splendid idea. Dad would love to see.

[B]

Well, Peg and I were going to drive out Grant.

[C]

We'll have time for one drink.

[B]

All right, if you'd like to. What about you, Sam? Oh, count me in, then. What are we waiting for? Let's get started right away.

[C]

Isn't it wonderful about Grant, Dad?

[B]

Well, it's good news. But we all knew he'd win. He had to.

[C]

He'll be a good mayor, won't he, Judge? I mean, he'll do a good job.

[B]

He'll do what he has to do. All of us do what we have to. Hey, hey, hey. What is this? This is Grant's big day. Why is everyone so glum? Who's glum? I'm sorry, Harry. I was just thinking about some personal problems. Anything I can do, sir? No, no, I can handle. All right, everyone. I propose a toast. To Grant Seeley, the people's choice. To Harry and Peggy and. And Peggy. May Grant's campaign to woo her be as successful as its campaign to woo the voter.

[D]

Oh, Harry.

[B]

Oh, I'll drink of that. Well, now. Now it's my turn. To Harry. May my term in office be one half as successful as his one.

[C]

Well, now, Grant, my friend, you'd better take me away from all this.

[B]

All right. Can I convince you to stay for one more, too? Oh, no, thanks. We'd really better be on our way.

[C]

Yes, get along.

[B]

You two sound as if you want them to go.

[C]

Well, they'd much rather be alone. And anyway, we should be getting ourselves home soon. Today's a long, long day. Well, so long, all you wonderful people. Come along, darling.

[B]

Bye.

[C]

You had something to tell me, remember?

[B]

Bye now. Bye.

[C]

Bye. Come on, Harry. It's time for us to leave, too.

[B]

All right. Not even boss in my own home. What man ever is?

[C]

Oh, now, you Men, stop sympathizing with each other. Good night, dad. Sam.

[B]

Good night. Good night.

[C]

All right.

[B]

They're a nice couple. Which one are you talking about? Both. They're both nice couples. Yes. It seems like such a rot. It can't be helped, Judge. It has to be. Anyway, Grant has seven good years to look forward to. Seven years as mayor with Beg by his side if he wants her. And Harry and Alice. Harry had his good years. As for Alice, she knew what she was getting into. So did you, Judge. Don't forget that. How could I forget? Well, I suppose we'd better get ready. Yes. Get the town ready. Election night. Oh, I dread election night. But it comes anyway, Judge. It always comes. Ra. Perfect night.

[C]

What? Oh, yes, isn't it? Harry, let's stay out here in the garden.

[B]

All right. I thought you were tired, Alice.

[C]

No, I'm. I'm not now.

[B]

All right, then. Neither mine.

[C]

What is it?

[B]

Oh, I was just thinking about Peggy and Grant. You know what? I'll bet he's taking her up to Farnes Lake. Well, don't you remember? That's where I took you when I won my election seven years ago. I asked you to marry me that time, remember?

[C]

Yes, I remember.

[B]

And I'll bet that's just what he's doing. I'll bet he asks her to marry him when they're alone at Farns Lake.

[C]

Yes, maybe he will.

[B]

You know, it's. It's funny about Grant and me. I mean, so many things happened to us here in the same way. Both came here without knowing anyone. We both were elected mayors.

[C]

Well, people liked you.

[B]

Oh, it was more than that, Alice. We became overnight heroes. Grant with their spearheading, the drive to build the new hospital wing. And me, because I saved that child.

[C]

That was a brave act, Harry.

[B]

Was it? I never could be sure. I just saw the boy there on the street and the car was heading for him, and I ran and shoved him out of the way. And suddenly I was a town hero. Then a few months later, when Mayor Carson's term ran out, your father and Sam Spring and the mayor asked me to run for the office. Remember how? I didn't want to at first.

[C]

Yes.

[B]

You were the one who convinced me.

[C]

I know I did.

[B]

See, that's funny. It happened that way with Grant, too. When the hospital fight made him a hero, Sam, your father and I went to him and. You know, I think he would have turned us down. Until Peggy went to work on it.

[C]

He. You make a good mayor, Harry, Just. Just like you do.

[B]

There's had to be something wrong with him if he didn't. This town practically runs itself. All the big problems of crime and drug addiction, things like that other places have to worry about just don't exist here. And whenever a problem does come up, the whole town falls all over itself to hell.

[C]

Harry, you have been happy here, haven't you?

[B]

With you, darling, of course.

[C]

No, I. I didn't mean that. I mean here, this town.

[B]

Darling, I told you how it was for me before I came here, didn't I? I was a drifter going from place to place, so I always did well enough. I always made money, but I couldn't take root. I couldn't stay in one place.

[C]

I know.

[B]

Empty in this part of the country, as you know. I remember driving here down that endless road that runs in from the east. Not a tree on it for a hundred miles. You can't see a tree. And then suddenly there's this town. Everything green and white and freshly scrubbed. The children looked happy. There was peace on the faces of the people. Somehow I knew that this was where I was meant to be. Here was where I could finally stop drifting.

[C]

Oh, I wish you hadn't stopped.

[B]

Why, alas.

[C]

But you still have a chance. You do. Harry, get in your car and drive straight out of town. They'll follow you, but you have a head start. If you just leave now and drive fast, I can delay them so they'll never catch up until you're far enough away. Until you're in some other town where they won't dare hurt you, where they won't.

[B]

Joke, Alice.

[C]

What joke? Of all the things in the world, it's not a joke. Oh, I love you. I just found it out. I really love you, darling. Oh. Oh, it's too late. What's too late?

[B]

It's only your father and Sam Spring, Chief of police wills with him.

[C]

But.

[B]

What's wrong, honey? Tell me what's wrong. Well, honey. Oh, Judge Saunders. I'm glad to see you. Something's happened to Alice. She's suddenly hysterical. I don't know why. Yes, I know. We were afraid of this. Yes, but what's the matter with her? It's you, Harry. I don't understand. Of course you don't. She does, though. She knew from the beginning. What are you trying to say? Good term about this? But, boy, it's all over. I know that Grant's the new mayor. Alice and I just congratulated him this evening, remember? It's not as simple as that, Harry. I only wish it were. What's not as simple.

[C]

Oh, dad, why don't you go on torturing us this way? Can't you come right out and say you're going to.

[B]

Now take it easy, girl. Your father knows what he's doing. There must be a certain ritual in these cases. A certain decorum.

[C]

Decorum?

[B]

Will somebody please tell me what? Have you ever wondered what happened to your predecessor in office? Well, he died, didn't he? From a heart attack. Not from a heart attack, Harry. We killed him. You what? We sacrificed him. Myself, Sam, the chief here, all the good citizens of Cowan, all the people. Everyone over the age of 15. Doc believes that it might do the younger children more harm than good. Good? Are we talking about the same thing? That this is murder? We know what it is. Why though? Can you tell me that why? Have you ever wondered why this is such a nice town? Why there's no real crime problem? Why husbands don't beat their wives and wives remain faithful? Why there is no alcoholism and even teenage violence is wrath? Are you trying to say that murder is ever just a single scapegoat? Every seven years. The sacrifice of one man who can help release the violence every one of us keeps hidden and controlled for the 2,625 days or more between elections. And who could do this better than the personification of the town, Its elected representative, its leader?

[C]

Father, stop it. It's wrong. You know it is wrong, girl.

[B]

Can you say how many murders we prevent? How many acts of brutality this one occurrence takes the place. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Oh, I see it now. That's why I was picked. None of your good citizens would sacrifice themselves. It had to be a stranger like myself or Grant. Someone who would fall in love with a town and convince themselves that it fell in love with him. Harry Potter. Sucker. I was. You chose me for a hero, didn't you? That child. I say, was that a put up job too? You were a ruthless man, Harry. We gave you. And Alice. Was she part of it? She was, wasn't she?

[C]

Harry, I love you. You must know that now.

[B]

You were supposed to convince me to take the job and marry me. To see that I stayed. My terms. Well, you did a great job, honey. A real great job.

[C]

Please don't.

[B]

You even kept me away while they were. While they were killing poor Carson. Take it easy, boy. It wasn't Alice's fault. She's had a rough time. Oh yes, I feel sorry for her. She had her duty. A duty to her town. Is that what Peggy's doing tonight? Is she Luring? Grant away so that he won't know what's happening to me. Is she saying yes? She'll marry him tonight so that she can see him killed seven years from now? She's doing what she has to do, Judge. I know, Harry. I'm sorry. But it's time. By the power invested in me by the town council, I sentence you, Nightmare. To be taken down to the old pit in the southwest corner of town, where you shall be bound and rendered helpless, and where each of your fellow townsmen and townswomen who are at least 16 years of age and physically capable will hurl a single stone at you. No, don't.

[C]

Don't.

[D]

Don't.

[B]

Until your bones be broken. No. Your head be crushed and your body be like.

[C]

Let him go.

[B]

All right, chief.

[C]

Take it Now.

[D]

Keep.

[B]

We're friends.

[C]

Don't let them take them. Let me stay here.

[B]

I can. Everyone must be a part of this. You know that. Peggy's the only exception. As you were seven years ago. It's your duty, darling. You must finish what you started. Then you must cast the first stone.

[C]

First. Go. Yes, I'm coming.

[B]

Oh, it's just lovely to be up here at the lake in the moonlight with the girl you're going to marry.

[C]

Well, give me a kiss to prove.

[B]

I'll take. Oh, Grant.

[C]

That was nice. What are you doing? Nothing.

[B]

Just passing some stones into the lake.

[C]

Just don't.

[B]

Why?

[C]

No. Just. Please don't, Grant, for me. You might hit something. Hurt it.

[B]

I didn't know you were so tender hearted. But don't worry, darling. I'll never throw another stone as long as I live. And with a wife like you to take care of me, I have a feeling that'll be a very long time. Darling, what's wrong? You're. You're shivering.

[C]

Don't talk, Grant. Just hold me.

[B]

Theater 5 has presented Congratulations, Mr. Mayor, written by Mort Golding and directed by Warren Somerville. In the cast, Ian Martin, Mary Jane Higby, Nat Poland, Joyce Gordon, Danny Ako and Jackson Beck. Audio engineer Neil Pulse. Sound technician Ed Blaney, script editor Jack C. Wilson. Original music by Alexander Vlastenko Orchestra under the direction of Glenn Oer. Executive producer for Theater 5, Ted Bell. We invite your comments write to Theater 5, New York 23, New York. This is Fred Foy speaking. This has been an ABC Radio Network production. Night Be.

[D]

Hi, this is Randy Stone. I cover the night beat for the Chicago Star, which is as good a way of making a buck as any if you like walking. And nobody's hiring Mailman. Yeah, I'm real bitter tonight. It all began with a column I wrote, oh, a few months ago about a fire in a little nightclub over on the north side and the panic that followed. Afterwards, I couldn't get that panic out of my system. Human beings reduced to the level of animals. All I had to do was walk calmly out of the building, but no, they tore and smashed and clubbed and clawed, not caring about anything but their own precious skin. And so three people were trampled to death. It griped me, and I wrote in my column that we were all a lot closer to the jungle than we realized. When human beings could act so vile and so ugly in the face of fear. A couple of hours later, the galley sheet of the column was tossed on my desk. And as usual, the proofreader had found a dozen mistakes in my spelling. But something else was added across. The story was written. Too bad the human race doesn't come up to your standard. Signed Fraser. I don't know, maybe I was feeling a little bad about the column myself, but it was kind of got under my skin. I put in a call at the proofreader's desk to have Mr. Fraser drop around. I'd hardly hung up the phone when a little dame about 70 years old, 5ft tall but hard as nails, came down the aisle, pencils sticking out everywhere from her gray hair and her celluloid eye shade firmly in place.

[C]

Mr. Fraser's been dead for 38 years. But if you don't mind talking to his widow, I.

[D]

Sit down. I. I just called you over to punch you in the nose.

[C]

Oh. Gonna do it here. Should we go down to the alley?

[D]

I'll take a rain check. It's too soon after Mother's Day.

[C]

You burned me up. Putting yourself on a pedestal.

[D]

Shame on you. Well, you weren't at that fire. You didn't see those nice human beings tear at each other like tigers.

[C]

And you've never really been afraid, have you, Mr. Stone?

[D]

Oh, I don't know.

[C]

Of course you don't know. That's what makes me sore. You don't know what real panic can do to you. It can tear you apart. It can poison you.

[D]

Don't kid me, Fraser. You've never been afraid of anything in your life.

[C]

Oh, not much. I wasn't. You ever hear of the Lakeside?

[D]

No.

[C]

That was when you were still in cotton siding. Well, it was a vacation ship. And it tipped over in Lake Michigan, and I was on it. And let me tell you something, laddie boy. I tore and clawed and ripped with the best of them. Sure, I was ashamed afterwards, but it left me with something more than shame. It left me with understanding. Well, maybe the only way to understand hunger is to go without food. You won't ever understand fear until you've really been afraid. I mean, afraid in every drop of blood, in every nerve. Then you'll understand it and maybe you'll climb down off that pedestal. Now, was there anything else you wanted to say to me?

[D]

No. No, but thanks for letting me talk myself out.

[C]

Okay. See you around. Oh, and another thing.

[D]

Yeah?

[C]

You spell like a 2 year old. I before E except after C. Will you please remember that?

[D]

She was a doll. I wasn't going to argue with her about anything, spelling or fear. Except that being a strictly no hero type guy, I'd still like to see the day that anything could turn me into the savages I saw at that fire. And that was the end of it. For a few months after, anyhow, until I got the letter. This letter was on top of the pile. Nothing unusual about the envelope. No return address. Postmark, Winona, Illinois. Dear Mr. Stone, I am mailing this letter so that you will receive it on May 24. It is important that you receive it then because after that you would not receive it at all. You see, sometime between the evening of May 24th and the following morning, I am going to kill you. Hmm? Oh, Anonymous. Well, yeah, that figures. Going to kill you. I realize you will instantly decide that I am a harmless crackpot. Oh, instantly, brother, instantly. And I am counting on that to keep you from going to the police. Let me assure you that I have no motive for killing you. I know you only through your newspaper column, and you know me not at all. But then, what motive has the hunter of the fox beyond the excitement of the kill itself? Brother, I selected you as my victim because as you walk the city at night, you make a very excellent target. And also because obviously, from your writings, you are an intelligent man. Your flattery's gonna get this kid nowhere. I am writing you about my plans because I want you to spend every second constantly on guard. I want you to wonder about your fate. Wonder when it will happen and how. A knife, a gun, poison, whatever way I choose, I assure you I will trap you in a most unusual fashion. Well, thank you and good night. And I tossed the letter from Winona, Illinois, into the wastebasket. Everyone who wrote a column got one of these every so often. The world was filled with such goose. By the time I started on my night beat that evening, I couldn't even Tell you the exact words of the letter. By the time I made my regular stop at Gus's Beanery around 9, the letter from Winona was gone from my mind. The venery was empty. I went over to the counter. Evening, Mr. Stone.

[B]

Hey, your paper called. Kindly give the switchboard a ring.

[D]

Ah, thank you. What's the soap du jour?

[B]

What's always the suit de at this establishment? Whatever won't go down the garbage disposal. Mix with liberal amounts of Lake Michigan's finest.

[D]

You make it sound heavenly. A large bowl. I'll call it. As I dialed the paper, I idly watched the seedy little character push his face against the restroom's plate glass window and then come slowly into the place, shuffling on the uncertainty. Then the gal at the paper answered and I turned to the phone.

[C]

Chicago Star.

[D]

Ah, this is Stone. What small crisis are we faced with tonight?

[C]

Oh, Mr. Stone, you had a long distance call. Let me see. Here it is. From somebody in Winona, Illinois.

[D]

That letter.

[C]

You say something?

[D]

No, no. Go on.

[C]

Well, the party seems terribly anxious to reach you. He left a number to call him. Winona said if he didn't hear from you within an hour, he was coming into the city to find you. That was almost two hours ago.

[D]

Did he leave his name?

[C]

No, just a phone number. 1836. But like I said, he called two hours ago and he said that.

[D]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.

[C]

Well, you might try him though. He really seems desperate to find you.

[D]

Oh, well, good for him. Thanks, kid. As I hung up the phone, I noticed that my stomach muscles had tightened ever so slightly and the palm of my hand was just a little damp. I called the Winona number like a real sucker and the phone rang on and on at the other end and I got the mental picture of some wild eyed moon sitting in a dark room, hearing the phone ring and shrieking himself silly and having fooled me. Then I turned and started walking back to the restaurant counter. I noted that the seedy little character who'd come in while I was on the phone with every seat in the restaurant empty, had chosen the seat next to mine. There he was, nursing a cup of coffee right next to my bowl of soup. I kind of smiled inwardly at the odd little feeling that gripped my knees for an instant and was gone. I sat down beside him, looking at his reflection in the long mirror behind the counter, a watery eyed, moth eaten little character in a frayed coat. I salted my soup, reached for the spoon. Then I realized humorously that the feeling that had been in my knees was now in my wrists. Now, let's face it, Randy, old boy, old kid, old top. This is undoubtedly the killer, and he has unquestionably spilled stricken into your soup. I grinned to myself, wondering why the grin kind of caused my lips to ache. And then I dipped my spoon into the soup. Only, you know, it was a little funny how he did chosen the seat next to mine with a whole restaurant at his disposal. The spoon of soup was on its way to my lips, and that odd feeling had now settled in my elbow. Ah, knock it off, I thought. Act your age. You're a big boy, Randy. Drink the soup. But it was an amusing thought. I mean, Winona was only 40 miles from Chicago, and he would have had time to get here by now. Ah, the soup, kid. Yeah, well, the soup had reached my lips and my eyes automatically went to the big mirror. He was staring straight at me expectantly. I put the spoon down. Now, Gus, come over here, will you? Sure.

[B]

What can I do for you, Mr. Stone?

[D]

My soup got cold. How about another bowl? Sure thing. It's a break for the cat. Oh, no, not the cat. Why not the cat? Friend, I'm sorry. Forgive me. I'll be going now. One second. Why not the cat? Fine. Soup like that, I sure wouldn't mind if the soup wasn't so warm. Why, that bowl of soup you were away, it blew me like a magnet. It became the most wonderful thing in the world. Sitting next to it, inhaling its spicy aroma. Oh, it's frightening how one's values change. It's very frightening. I'll be going now. No, no, no. Wait a minute. The soap is fine for me. Gus, serve this gentleman the hot bowl and see what else you'll have.

[B]

Sure, Mr. Stone.

[D]

I always made my own way.

[B]

Sometimes everything gets out of hand.

[D]

But really, I. I don't want charity. Well, take my word for it, sir. I owe it to you. I left the venary a little after 10, feeling like an idiot. Junior grade, back to work. Wandering the lonely places of the night, looking for my story. The railroad yards where kids in overalls flipped off the freights and brushed the straw from their jeans, thinking Chicago. Here I am, past the produce markets beyond the loop where trucks were already coming in, unloading their crates of fruits and vegetables through the narrow canyons of the downtown financial district. Deserted, empty. The night wind whipping the scraps of paper that was so vital yesterday into the gray gutter. But tonight, the story wasn't there. It wouldn't come tonight. Something was gnawing at me, and I kept Pushing it away, trying to shame it out of my system. And I couldn't shake it. Finally, I stopped in at a gas station. It was closed for the night, but the phone booth was open. But Winona 1836 was never going to answer. Then the newspaper again to see if they'd heard from him.

[C]

Oh, yes, Mr. Stone. I was trying to reach you. He came in all right, more than an hour ago.

[D]

He's there now?

[C]

No, he hung around a while. He seemed so agitated. Then he said he'd find you himself and left.

[D]

What does this character look like?

[C]

Gee, how would you describe an average looking fellow? Only excited.

[D]

Oh, great. Listen, if he comes back, you very quietly dial P051313. You understand that?

[C]

But that's the police.

[D]

You catch on fast, baby. NBC is bringing you Nightbeat, starring Frank Lovejoy as Randy Stone. Three chimes mean good times on NBC. There's more mystery later this evening with two rough and tough crime fighters. There's the amazing Mr. Malone, a daring private detective equally proficient at romance or solving murders.

[B]

Followed by the Man Called X, an.

[D]

Intrepid soldier of fortune, played by Van Heflin, who travels to all the dark and mysterious corners of the world, combating.

[B]

The evils of international intrigue.

[D]

Yes, there's action and adventure every Friday here on NBC. And now back to Nightbeat and Randy Stone. After the gal on the switchboard had told me that my chum from Winona was now in town, I stayed in the phone booth in the deserted little gas station to call the police. A crazy man somewhere in the dark city looking for me. No, no, I wasn't having any. Hello? Oh, hello. Give me Captain Barton. Pardon? Speaking. Oh, Captain, this is Randy Stone of the Star. Yes, Randy, look, some screwball is outgunning for me. I think I need some help. A little slower, Randy. I got a letter from this guy. I thought he was just a crank, but I can't understand you. Talk slower.

[B]

Relax, Randy.

[D]

This doesn't sound like you. Well, it is me. It's me, all right. Now, look, I don't know who this guy is or when he'll decide to move in, but it's not so good for the nerves. Captain.

[B]

Now, wait a minute.

[D]

Wait a minute. Start from the beginning. And then I heard the sound. Someone tapping on the glass door of a phone book. I turned. It was dark, but I could see his face, wild and excited. Hear what I said, Randy?

[B]

Do it slow.

[D]

And I don't even remember hanging up the phone. I felt my throat closing up. He was a Slight fella, his hands hammering against the glass door. They looked extraordinarily white and strong. I opened the door quickly. Thanks. Sorry to have to cut you short like this, but, boy, I think this is it, huh? Her pains are coming every three minutes now. The doc said when they start like that, call him quick. Man, am I nervous. It's my first kid, you know. He was nervous. I started walking fast, trying to find a cab so that I could get to the police station and make that lughead Barton understand what was happening. Only none of the cabbies ever bothered with this neighborhood this late at night. Warehouses, small factories, lofts, everything shut it up for the night. A hundred times I'd walked this street without ever realizing how completely lonely it was. A figure was coming the other way. Without even thinking, I crossed the street to the other side. And the figure went on. Now, I wasn't wasting any time telling myself what a dope I was. I wanted to get to that police station fast. There were no cabs, but a block ahead was a subway entrance. I hurried toward it, all my nerves jangling. I figured maybe a cigarette might make me calm down. I ducked into a doorway, struck a match. As the match burst into flame, I saw I wasn't alone, waiting for you. Me? You. The funny prince Charlie. Harry Struman, the man on the flying trapeze. Anybody with a pack of cigarettes and a social conscience. Here, take the whole pack. I thank you for you have made me king of the night. Now till dawn, I will stand here and let the galaxies entertain me. Sagittarius, the Pleiades. Pursuits, the tiny North Star. Dancing, all of them to the music of our thrashing earth. Oh, fine. Great. Thank you. See you. I kept on walking, thinking, Riley, any other night what a kick I'd have gotten from shooting the breeze with a guy like that. Poet of the darkness. His study, any alley, any doorway of the city. But tonight, all I wanted was to reach the subway up ahead and get to the police. And then I was standing before the subway entrance, but it was dark. And across the entrance was the sign, closed after 10pm Fullerton Station. Open. Fullerton Station. That was four blocks across town. Everything was against me tonight. The whole city was against me. Every building and every street. For the first time in my life, it was all strange. I hated it. I hurried toward Fullerton through an area of condemned tenements now being torn down for a housing project. Everything broken and shattered against the night. But beyond the ruins, the lights of Fullerton street, the subway. Safety. The word had Never meant much to me. But now it meant everything. I was walking very quickly, trying with all my willpower to keep from running, my heart beating too hard inside me, and my nerves feeling them tightening.

[B]

Please help me.

[D]

And I stopped. Help. I looked around me frantically. Not another soul. The bulldozers and other heavy equipment standing alone in the streets. The smashed buildings. Nothing else. Then I realized the voice was coming from the building just to my right. An ancient, sprawling apartment house. Two upper stories already demolished, but the lower part still standing. I rushed over to the building. The windows were boarded up, but the boards were rotting. And I throw one aside. Are you in here?

[C]

Yes.

[B]

Yes.

[D]

Please help me. Hunter.

[C]

Trapped. Falling. Timbered. Cutting.

[D]

I ran to the arched entrance of the building, also boarded up. Even in the darkness, I could read the large sign nailed across the front. Condemned. Danger. I tore the boards aside and I went into the building. It was like looking into a cave. The faintest moonlight from outside revealed broken floors, smashed walls, and narrow hallways leading off in all directions.

[C]

Hurry, whoever you are, please hurry.

[D]

I can't hold out as long as I looked through my pockets for matches, there were none. I'd given them to the philosopher. Have any idea where you are in relation to the entrance?

[C]

No.

[B]

Can you find a drywall place you won't collapse?

[D]

Look. Fell. I can't find you in the dark. I'll go for help.

[C]

No.

[D]

No, please.

[C]

So. Can't hold out much longer. Timber. Let me down. Don't leave me.

[D]

All right, all right. But keep talking. I'll try to follow your voice. You tell me if my footsteps seem to be getting closer.

[C]

Yes, I will.

[D]

Thank you.

[C]

Thank you. Thank you.

[D]

I went down what had apparently been the man Horrid. Rooms arched off in every direction. I stumble, I crash through rotting floors, try to reach empty room after empty room, some dimly lit by the moon, most of them in deep, suffocating darkness. Keep talking. Your voice sounds closer. Okay, Houston. I'd gone down at least half the length of the building once. I looked back, and the front door seemed so far off now gave me a strange feeling. Think really close.

[C]

Tricks off. You don't.

[D]

You never know. Let me object. How or where?

[C]

Mister. Mister.

[D]

Why did you stop? Why did you say that?

[C]

Why? I don't get you.

[D]

You never know when fate will catch up to you. How or where. That's what the letter said.

[C]

What letter? Mister?

[D]

What are you talking about?

[C]

Step on it, Mister.

[D]

Harry, how long have you been here? Answer me. Why didn't somebody else find you? Why did you wait for me?

[C]

Can't answer a question.

[D]

But I couldn't move. The blackness seemed to close me and I started having trouble breathing.

[C]

Come on. Come on. You're close now.

[D]

Close? Yes. His voice seemed to be right ahead of us. Or behind. Where was it? Was he waiting for me there in the darkness? Waiting to spring at me, a gun in his hand? Or a knight?

[C]

Come on. What are you doing, Harold?

[D]

His voice didn't sound right. It didn't sound right. He was only pretending to be hurt. He wasn't hurt at all. Arnold, stop it. Randy, get a control of yourself. You gotta help him. But no, I couldn't move. My legs had turned to stone. I couldn't budge. Completely at his mercy, this crazed man. I'll trap you in a most interesting way. What was that? I thought I heard a movement. He was coming for me through the darkness. I had to get away. I had to get away. Sit down, Randy. Yeah. Thanks, Captain. Thanks. Hey, you look terrible.

[B]

What's happened?

[D]

Well, I started telling you over the phone. This crazed loon sent me a letter saying that he was going to kill me. He was going to trap.

[B]

I know all about the letter. The guy's right in the next office.

[D]

The next office? Sure.

[B]

He came into town a couple hours ago. Send Mr. Harris in.

[D]

He was here when you phoned.

[B]

I was just getting you along. And then before I could tell you, you hung up.

[D]

But he couldn't be. He.

[B]

Mr. Harris, this is Randy Stone, the man you've been trying to reach.

[D]

Oh, Mr. Stone. You. You're the one who sent the letter? Oh, no, no, no, no. I'm the tenant there at the sanitarium. Sanitarium? Yeah, for the insane. It's a private one in Winona. I should have known better, but. Well, he seemed so rational at the time. What are you talking about?

[C]

The letter.

[D]

You know, the letter.

[B]

He gave it to me.

[D]

He asked me to mail it as a favor to him. Said he was sending you a letter of appreciation for your fine column. But wait. I know it's against all the rules to mail the letters without the superintendent reading them, but. Well, like I say, he seems so rational. And then after I mailed it, then he told me what he'd written. That's why I've been trying so desperately to reach you. Gosh, I could get fired if it ever came out that I. You mean he's up in Winona? Locked up? Oh, sure, sure. You don't have to worry about that. Captain. Get a car and for God's sake, hurry. Yes, the poor guy in the abandoned apartment was still alive when we got to him, but no special thanks to me. I felt like such a fool. I didn't know how I was going to live with myself. And then I remembered somebody. And even if it was just a little after three in the morning, I went calling. When she saw who it was, she reached for a coffee pot to bang me on the head. But when I told her about tonight, well, she added water and put the coffee pot over a high flame instead.

[C]

You had to wake me up to tell me what a bum you are, huh?

[D]

Yeah. No different from the others. Clawing, tearing.

[C]

And just why should you be different, lover boy? You a special design or something? After the Lord finished with you, he threw away the pattern.

[D]

Okay, okay.

[C]

Don't you get it yet, brain? We're all in the same jungle, and fear is what keeps us there. And the only way we're ever going to get out is hand in hand.

[D]

Well, that sounds great, but what about me? How do you ever get over feeling like a worm?

[C]

Oh, there's a way. I'll give you some of this poisonous brew and then I'll whisper the secret into your little pink ear.

[D]

It wasn't much of a secret. All she did was send me down to the office, back to the typewriter to put it all down. Every word and in the first person. And, you know, maybe it's the same with fear as it is with a lot of other things. As soon as you stop hiding it, as soon as you share it around, the sting is gone. But, brother, fear is a deadly weapon that makes the atom bomb look like a squirt gun. Maybe the day we all stop being afraid, maybe that's the day the new world they all talk about will officially begin. Anyway, I guess the article I wrote was okay, because when it got back to me from the copy reader's desk, scrawled across the front and that bold, angry hand was welcome back to the human race, but your spelling is atrocious. Okay, Fraser. I love you too, copy boy. Nightbeat, starring Frank Lovejoy, is produced and directed by Warren Lewis.

[A]

There's more from Theater 5 Nightbeat, the Relic Radio show, alongside all of the other Relic Radio podcasts at the website relicradio.com our shoutcast stream is there as well with even more old time radio. And if you'd like to help support it all, a donate button. Give that button a click or visit donate relicradio.com your support makes all of this possible. Thanks to those who have helped out. Thanks for joining me this week. I'll be back tomorrow with an hour of mystery on Case Closed and next Tuesday with our next episode of the Relic Radio Show.

[B]

It.