 Yes, Roma wines taste better because only Roma selects from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, Roma Wines, present Suspense! Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Mr. Lloyd Nolan in Green Eyed Monster, a suspense play produced, edited and directed for Roma Wines by William Spear. Suspense, radio's outstanding theatre of thrills, is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines. That's R-O-M-A, Roma Wines, those better tasting California wines, enjoyed by more Americans than any other wine, for friendly entertaining, for delightful dining. Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Lloyd Nolan. Get a remarkable tale of Suspense! I got to sleep pretty late. I'd been reading a book about the Civil War and I got interested in the section on Gettysburg. There was some material there I hadn't known about. I didn't sleep very well, even after I had turned off the bed light. You know, when you're accustomed to having someone else in the house, it's a sort of an uneasy feeling to know that you're alone. I remember hearing the clock in the front room strike four, and I must have fallen asleep. I was dreaming as I recall it, about a very bloody battle between the blue and the grey. When the alarm clock went off, it was set for seven, because I knew and had a busy day ahead. It took me a little while to realize what it was, because in the dream at that moment I'd invented a belt that scared the opposing forces right off the field. It was nice and quiet then. I lay warm in bed for a while, trying to remember my dream and not succeeding. When I did remember that I was alone in the house, that Margaret wasn't there to wake me up if I dozed off for just a few more minutes. I'd just gotten out of bed when the telephone made a loud, early morning noise. I shoved my feet halfway into some slippers and muttered down the hallway. Yes? Sorry to disturb you. This is Michael Dawson. I was a little early, but I think so. Do you drive a Pontiac convertible license number 99R479? Uh, yes. Where's your car now, Mr. Dawson? It's right in front of the house. What's up? Say, uh, who is this? Police department, Sergeant O'Connor. Oh, well, uh, just a minute. I thought it was awfully early in the morning for this to happen. It's awfully hard to think clearly when you haven't had a cup of coffee or a cigarette. I walked to the front window and my car wasn't there. And I went back to the phone, still thinking how hard it is to think clearly when it's early in the morning. Uh, hello. Yeah, right here, Mr. Dawson. It's gone, the car. I just wanted to be sure. Your car was stolen last night, Mr. Dawson. It's pretty badly banged up. You insured? Well, I think so. I don't know. I suggest you report the theft of the insurance company and come down to the police garage where the pink owners slipped. Oh, all right. I'll be down as soon as I can. I got dressed, made coffee, drank it, had a cigarette, and I called Tommy Castle, my insurance man. I told him that the Pontiac had been stolen and what the cop had told me to do. He said he'd drive me down to the garage. I had the pink slip on the desk and I took it with me. It was a quarter to eight when Tommy picked me up in front of the house and we drove down to the police station and started walking around to the garage. You don't need to worry, Mike. You're very well covered. Now aren't you glad that you took all the insurance I recommended? Well, I suppose so. Because you're very well covered. Well, that's swell, but if it's completely wrecked, where am I going to get another car? Ah! They can probably fix it like new and it won't be long before the market will be flooded with new cars. Uh, Mr. Dawson? Yes? Sergeant O'Connor. Oh. Cars over there, Mr. Dawson. Where? Oh, oh, yeah. Oh, I see. Everybody smashed up. Now, let's look it over very closely, Mike. Mm-hmm. What a mess. Well, it serves me right for leaving it out in the street all night. Now, it never would have happened if my wife had been home. Now, Margaret is more thorough than you are, Mike. Is Mrs. Dawson a blonde about five feet three? Well, yeah. Why, do you know her? Uh... Is that your wife, Mr. Dawson? Stuffed in the trunk of the car was Margaret. She was wearing the same dress she'd had on the date. Tuesday it was. Every day she'd gone to visit her mother. The whole scene was very clear. I can remember easily. Her face was smudged, and I thought she wouldn't like to be seen with her face dirty, and her clothes were badly rumbled. And just below the left shoulder blade, sticking up straight from her back was the handle of a brass letter opener. I started to weave a little then. Hey. You all right, Mr. Dawson? Easy, Mike. Well, we can sit down. I'm all right. Please, I'm all right. Sorry, I told you that way, but we had reasons. Reasons? Well, it seems to me that you could have been a little more... Look at it. Tell it. I wanted to kill Margaret. She had a few little forts the same as all of us. Who would want to kill her for them? Here, now, here. Come on, sit down, sit down. Looks like our local Jack the Ripper again, stabbing the old general setup. He never did anyone any harm. You better take him home. In a minute, in a minute. Let him sit here a while. Margaret. Put a little blood, Margaret. I did that pretty well, don't you think? Because I wasn't surprised at all. I'd planned the whole morning. I didn't think it would all happen that early, but I knew it would happen. You see, I had stolen my car and left it wrecked for the police to find. And in the trunk of my car, I'd stuffed the body of my wife, Margaret, who I had stabbed in the back at 4.30 Tuesday afternoon. For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Lloyd Nolan in Green Eyed Monster. Roma Wine's presentation tonight in Radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense. Between the acts of suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines. More Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. Yes, Roma is America's favorite wine for everyday pleasure, for gracious hospitality. Because in Roma, you enjoy the important difference of better wine, extra goodness in fuller bouquet, richer body, and better taste. And there's a reason Roma Wines taste better. First, Roma selects California's choicest grapes. Then with ancient skill and America's finest wine making resources, Roma Master Ventner's guide this great treasure unhurriedly to tempting taste perfection. These choice wines are placed with mellow Roma wines of years before. And from these reserves, the world's greatest reserves of fine wines, Roma later selects for your pleasure. Discover for yourself the finer quality, the better taste of Roma California wines. Tomorrow, enjoy a glass of Roma sherry, port or muscatel. You'll agree that Roma wine is your best buy in good taste. That's R-O-M-A, Roma, the better tasting wine. And now, Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage Lloyd Nolan, as Michael Dawson, and Kathy Lewis as his wife, Judy, in Green Eyed Monster, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. I was, of course, the prime suspect in the murder of my wife, Margaret. The only thing was that there had been a series of crimes in my neighborhood during the last couple of months, crimes that all followed a general pattern. And since I was clever enough to fix Margaret's murder so that the death was as neat as the others had all been, it was decided at the coroner's inquest that the murder had been committed by a person or persons unknown, by which they meant the Jack the Ripper character that was running around loose, and I wasn't held. I waited a decent week after it was all over, and then I called Judy, my Judy. Oh, she was so beautiful. She was tall and brunette and willowy and beautiful, with the loveliest green eyes you ever saw. She answered the phone right away and said she'd be right over. Come in, honey. You're the most beautiful thing in the world. I'll bet you say that to all of you. Come here. Really, everybody in the street will see it. It's OK. Say, where'd you get that dress? An old aunt gave it to me. It didn't fit her anymore. Fits you. Thank you. Come on in. In the kitchen. Have you a new recipe for poached eggs? No, I want to tell you something. A story, Mike, sorely? A story, a beautiful story about a lovely brunette and a guy who's nuts about her. Who could you mean? Come here, will you? You're very friendly today. Well, you shouldn't have worn that dress. This is a way it affects you, I wear it all the time. Have you missed me? Sure. Have you missed me a lot? Actually. You love me, don't you? Of course I love you. You rehearsing for your bar exam? Come on. Sit down there. All righty, I'll sit down here. A cup of coffee? A cup of coffee. OK. There you are. Don't you want some? Uh-uh, no. Sworn out? No, I have something to tell you. I'm sorry about your wife. Yeah. Yeah, it was quite a blow. I'll bet. What do you mean by that? I thought you said you love me. Well, I do. Then you aren't too sad about Margaret, are you? Well, it's a shame that she had to end up that way. You know how those things are. Give me a kiss and stop talking so much. New perfume? Where'd you get it? Where'd you get it? Well, really, do you own me or something? I want to know where you got that perfume. Sit down and relax. What's the matter with you? I ought to slap your face. You do, and I'll slap you right back. Judy, I love you. Of course you do. Well, that's what I want to know. I get jealous. Naturally. Do you love me? Sure. You don't act like you love me. Do you want me to gaze at you with great, fond eyes? No, no, of course not. What do you want? I want you to tell me that you love me. Why? Because I? Go on. Well, I've proven how much I want you. I think that you should return the feeling. How have you? Have what? Proving how much you want me. Why, but telling you over and over again that I love you by loving you more than Margaret. Why? By killing Margaret? You heard me. What makes you think I killed Margaret? Didn't you? Now look, Judy. This is a pretty tough way to treat you. Didn't you? Yes. Then I love you. Kiss me, Mike. She loved me. She really loved me. That's all I cared about, all I could think about. She was so wonderful. She just, we got a little house in Glendale and were married out there when nobody knew us. And then that first evening, the first hour almost, that we were alone together in our own home, somebody came to the door. And it was Tommy Casley, barged in. He talked and talked about insurance. And yours too, Mrs. Dawson. That's why, well, that's why I feel it's my privilege, yes, my duty to talk to you this way. Now, I'm the last one in the world who wants to stir up any unhappy memories. But well, if you remember, Mike, I urge you repeatedly to take out a joint life insurance policy on yourself and on your, well, that is the farmer. You mean Margaret. Yes, yes, thank you, thank you. Well, you know what happened? What happened, Mr. Castle? Why, he never took out the insurance. And so when Margaret, when the, I mean, she simply wasn't insured. Maybe that's just as well, Mr. Castle. Well, I'm afraid I don't follow you, Mrs. Castle. Well, if Mike had collected any insurance when Margaret was killed, those silly policemen, you know how they are, they might have thought Mike had some reason. Well, Judy, well, as I was saying, now, you two are just married a whole new life ahead for you. Now is the time to think about the future. Now, listen, I don't like this whole conversation. This is no way to talk to a man on his wedding day. But Mike, that's where you're wrong, my boy. This is just the way to talk to a man on his wedding day. Now, can I talk to you for just a second, Mike? No, no, no, please, please don't go, Mrs. Dawson. This is only a second. Now, let's, Tommy, this is our wedding day. Mike, Mike, listen to me. You are to sign an application on Judy's life. Why do you know how many women are killed in automobile accidents every year? And here, here in Los Angeles, this Jack the Ripper character only kills women. You know why? All right, let me sign it and please, Tommy. Well, sure, sure. Yeah, there we are. Of course, you'll have to take a physical examination, but that'll be nothing to a youngster like you, you know? Folks, I can't tell you how much this is going to mean to you when, now, what did I do with my hat? Oh, yeah, there it is, there it is. I can't tell you how much this is going to... Hey, Castle, are you going straight back into town? Oh, yes, yes, I am. Anything I can do? I think I'll ride in with you if you don't mind. Well, yeah, I'd be glad to. But Judy... I'm sorry, Mike, I forgot to tell you an old girlfriend of mine called me today. She's in town just the one night and I told her I'd see her. But Judy, it's... I know, but just one of those things, dear. Are we ready, Mr. Castle? Uh, yeah, ready? Sure, sure, I'm ready. Don't worry, darling. Don't wait up. Well, I just stood there. I didn't know what to say or what to do. Now, wedding night, I moved the curtain aside and watched her go down the walk with Tommy. She was holding onto his arm real tight, too tight. She smiled up at him. I went into the living room and tried to read Sandberg's Lincoln. It's quite a book, five big volumes. Ah, but I couldn't read. By midnight, I was in a blind rage. I was going to get in the car and go look for her. I was going to call the police. And a minute later, I was in a cold sweat of fear that something might have happened to her. And then back to a blind, scalding jealousy again. Finally, it got to be 3.30 in the morning. Oh! Tommy, is that you, Tommy? Ah! Oh! Oh, Mike, I just came in. I heard the phone ringing and ran up the stairs. I'm a little out of breath. Where's Judy? Huh? Judy? Oh, you mean the Mrs. What? I don't know. Didn't she hear? Where did you see her last? Well, I let her out at Sunsetting on Western and that was about to. No, you did, didn't you? Of course I did. Good gosh, Mikey, you don't think that I did. Oh, darling, I told you not to wait up. It's four o'clock in the morning. I know, darling. I'm sorry. Poor Ethel wanted to talk about it trouble, because I just couldn't bear to leave. Ah, I smell coffee. Poor Ethel. This was our wedding night. Darling, you're white as a sheet and you're trembling. But sure I am. Wondering about it this hour and this, this Jack the Ripper character. What was that? Where have you been? What have you been doing? I just told you, Ethel, darling, you want to. Now listen to me. Listen, if you ever do a thing like this again. Now, darling, you listen to me. You're not going to try to run my life for me, are you? Your life? I'm thinking about our life. I'm thinking about the. Mike, that's what I'm thinking about our life. And that's not all I'm thinking about. Well, all right then. I'm thinking about Margaret. Margaret? You mustn't be like this, darling. You must promise me not ever again, because I don't think Margaret would like it. She couldn't have made it much plainer, could she? And that's the way it was. From then on, my life was a nightmare, someone you're crazy in love with and crazy jealous of. Wondering where they are, who they're with. Not able to do a thing about it. Sometimes I'd think it was getting better. It was going to be all right. She'd stay at home for days of the stretcher a couple of weeks. Then it would begin all over again. She'd just take the car and go. Always some girlfriend, she said. Girlfriend. Well, finally I guess I did go a little crazy. I have to know one way or the other. So one night when she was getting ready to go out, I went to the garage. I jimmied the lock on the trunk compartment of the car so she couldn't be snapped shut again. And I crawled in, pulled the lid down after me. It must have been crazy, because it never even crossed my mind until I was lying in there, all scrunched up in the dark. About the last time anybody had been in there. I mean, Margaret. She drove for quite a while. It almost seemed as though she was just cruising around. I mean, not heading for any place in particular. Finally she stopped. I heard her get out of the car and go in somewhere. When I was sure she had gone, I cracked the lid of the trunk open and looked out. It was dark. She was going into a crummy little cafe. She was in there a long time. And when she came out, there was somebody with her. It was a girl. Kind of a long way. I could get a taxi. I don't mind. Go ahead, go ahead. Well, thanks. So it was a girl, wasn't it? This time anyway. And then the car was stopping. I cracked the lid of the trunk again. It was a nice night and the convertible top was down, and I heard it all. But this isn't the way. Why are we stopping? You'll find out. Get out. Get out. Don't argue. Get out. This is your idea of a joke or something. All I can say is, get out. As the car roared off, I had a glimpse of it lying there by the road. The girl's body with a knife in the back, dead. After the car was back in the garage, it seemed as though I lay in that dark trunk for hours, shaking, trembling all over. After a while, I crawled out of the trunk all cramped and stiff and went into the house. And there she was in bed. She looked at me with those half-closed eyes, those lovely, lovely green eyes. And then she turned over with a little sign and was fast asleep. As I lay there in bed, staring into the darkness, the only answer that seemed to make any sense was that I was losing my mind because of what I'd done to Margaret, maybe. Then I'd imagined the whole thing. But the next morning there it all was in the papers. More murder pictures, fiend strikes again, fiend. That was my duty. My lovely, wonderful duty. The woman I was in love with. From then on, I watched her like a hawk day and night. I never let her out of my sight. I hardly slept at all. I did things like letting the air out of the tires so she couldn't use the car. Like hiding everything in the whole house that was sharp a point of knives, ice picks, scissors, letter openers. And Judy, she was wonderful, calm, serene, apparently without the faintest idea of what was in my mind. I watched her, and I began to think what I had before. Somehow it must have been a terrible mistake. That was what I was thinking last night. Here we are. I brought you some tea and malvatoes, darling. You're looking better, I think. Well, thanks. Thanks, Judy. By the way, whatever happened to that letter opener? The new one we used to have on the desk. The what? The letter opener. What do you want it for? Open letters, silly. First of the month. There's a stack of bills in there that high. You're not thinking of going out, are you? You don't know where that letter opener is? No. No, I don't. I guess I can find something else that will do just as well. I had the letter opener, of course, but I didn't tell her. I didn't dare. I could feel it inside my inside pocket as I lay there on the couch in the den where I could watch the front hall and the living room door. I heard a fussing around upstairs for a while, and then she came down, and I heard the back door close. She was going to the garage. As I got up, I could feel the letter opener pressing against my side. It was a terrible pain in my head. I don't know exactly what happened after that. The next thing, the phone was ringing, and it was morning. I got off the couch, and I stumbled out into the hall to answer. I'm always groggy in the morning, but before I've had my coffee and a cigarette but this morning it was as though I'd been drugged to something. I couldn't think at all. Hello. Mr. Dawson, Michael Dawson? Yeah, yeah. You drive a Pontiac Convertible License number 999-R479? Yeah, yeah, I think that's the number. Why? Well, we've got your car, Mr. Dawson. You're insurance agent today. Oh, he is. We'd like you to come down here right away and bring your pink owners slip. Oh, wait, who's this? This is the police department. I was still pretty much in a pod when I got down there. I couldn't quite figure things out. My car must have been stolen again, really stolen this time, wrecked, I suppose. And where was Judy? Maybe she'd wrecked, or maybe they'd caught her. No, but then they'd have told me about it and not just asked about the car. Tommy met me outside. He must have been waiting for me. How are you feeling, old man? I'm all right, I guess. I'm afraid you're in for kind of a shock. Pretty bad, pretty bad. Oh, there he is now. Mr. Dawson? Yes. Come this way, please. Is that your car, Mr. Dawson? Yes. Yes, but it isn't right there. Doesn't seem to be anything to matter with it at all. Lift up the trunk, will you, Sergeant? Yes, sir. He was lying in there with her head twisted round, staring at me with those lovely cycles, green eyes, dead, Judy, my Judy, and the letter opener was in her back. Come around in a minute. Better get a sonographer in. He'll probably want to make a statement now. You all right now, old man? Yeah, sure. We can't pay the insurance, of course, you know. You understand that. Insurance? The life insurance on Judy. But I'll get your lawyer to do anything I can. Lawyer? Don't you think you're going to need one, Mr. Dawson? Oh, I'll take care of all that. One accident, that's one thing. But two, two wives, both in your car. Now there's your letter opener with your fingerprints on it. It won't go, Mr. Dawson, not anymore. And then, of course, there are all the others, seven of them that you killed in the last three months. That I killed? Now, now, Mr. Dawson, you're not going to give us any trouble, are you? No. No, I'm not going to give you any trouble. Yes, I guess I killed her up right, and I must have. I didn't kill the others, of course, but I confessed to them. I was glad to. I'd rather have them think that it was me than Judy, my beautiful green-eyed Judy. I've got lots of time to read. I'm almost through the third volume now, till that life of Lincoln. Only two more volumes to go. They're pretty long, pretty thick, but I think I'll make it just about. The Spence. Resetted by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, Roma, America's favorite wines. This is Truman Bradley bringing back for a curtain call our suspense star of the evening, Lloyd Nolan. Lloyd, ever since I saw you and Lady in the Lake, I've been wanting to ask you how you liked acting directly into the camera. You know, talking and looking right at the lens as if it were an individual. Well, I really, I enjoyed it, but it was a little tough acting as easy when you're talking to another person that sort of helps to watch his reactions, see his expressions, change as you deliver the line. Well, Lloyd, if you like to watch reactions, just try this idea, will you? To see your friend's expressions reflect pleasant anticipation, serve them Roma Californian sherry from this hamper of Roma wines. Yours to enjoy with the compliments of Roma, the greatest name in wine. Well, thanks, Truman. I will. You'll find as I do that everyone enjoys Roma sherry. For this golden amber, fragrant wine with its tempting nut-like taste is so good so many ways. Roma sherry is the perfect first call to dinner. The ideal start to a pleasant meal every day. And Roma sherry is delightful and right for friendly entertaining anytime. That's right, Truman. Roma sherry is always the best of taste. Yes, Roma sherry does taste better because Roma selects the better tasting wines for the world's greatest wine reserves. That accounts for the delightful difference in Roma wines. The polar bouquet, richer body, and the better taste. That's why more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. There's three very good reasons, Truman. Well, thank you and good night. Lloyd Nolan appeared to the courtesy of 20th Century Fox, producers of the late George Apley. Tonight's suspense play was written by Elliot Lewis and Robert Richards. Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Mr. Richard Conte as star of Suspense. Produced and directed by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.