 a very intricate and artistic bottle. Anything you wished while it was in your possession came true. But you had to settle the bottle to someone else in a fortnight for less than you paid for it. If you didn't, you'd go stark, staring mad. This is Peter Laurie opening the doors of the mystery playhouse. Yes, tonight's bedtime story is about a body. An empty bottle. Well, not quite empty. Maybe, but you'll see what I mean in a minute. Let's just say for now that this is no ordinary bottle. And I think you'll be interested to hear about it. I really do. Robert Murray Stevenson wrote this story many, many years ago. But it's been modernized and the scene changed from Hawaii to New York City. So get yourself set for something different in a way of a mystery. Listen now to a fascinating thing about an infant. A body bottle for one cent? No, I can't get rid of it. I can't get rid of it. See him? See him in the bottle laughing at me. See him head jumping up and down and laughing. He can't get away from it. He can't get away from me. He did this by the bottle for one cent and now I can't get rid of it. Come gentlemen, let me close the door. Well as you can see gentlemen, my wife is mad. Mr. Wilder, in my entire career as a psychiatrist I've never heard anything so strange. Your wife is absolutely convinced there is an infant in that bottle. I told you it was an unusual case, Dr. Jenkins. That's why I asked your assistance. I'm inclined to think it's paranoia, delusions. Well that was my original diagnosis, Dr. Jenkins, but now I'm thinking of schizophrenia. Projection of personality. No, it's neither of those things. It's the bottle. I wish I had never set eyes on... Come Mr. Wilder, you're not beginning to think the bottle is inhabited by a creature. I don't know what I think. Ever since that bottle came into this house nothing has been the same. Gentlemen, perhaps I should tell you that I've always feared that I myself would go mad. It's in the blood. My grandfather... Mr. Wilder, that would have no bearing on your wife's mental condition. And as for this bottle, there's absolutely no scientific evidence. I'm going to take that attitude. What's the use of talking to you at all? Dr. Erickson, I suggest we let Mr. Wilder tell us what he wants to in his own way. Science or no science, there's something diabolical about that bottle. It was strange just the way it came into my possession. It all started about four weeks ago. It was late when I left the office. It had just started to rain so I darted into a doorway while I looked for a camera. All of a sudden I was conscious of my surroundings. I was shopping at the doorway. Though I'll swear that there had never been one there before. It was our anniversary and I thought I'd buy something to celebrate the occasion. I want something for a woman, not too expensive. May I suggest this bottle here on the shelf? Well, that's very nice, but I can't afford anything like that. Oh, you'd be surprised at how inexpensive it is, sir. It's fine lime, the exquisite gold lacing, the twisted glass here around the neck. A master glassblower made that piece. Well, it's very nice, but perhaps something else would be more... I'm sorry, sir. The bottle is the only piece we have for sale. Wait, this big store, all this stuff... Oh, I admit it's clear, sir, and I don't blame you for being surprised. I was engaged to set up this shop, fill it with curios, and then offer this bottle as our sole item, not merchandise. I think I've heard of anything so eccentric. Let me see that bottle again. Yes, sir. Well, I'm not an expert, but I can see this bottle is worth a lot of money. Maybe $1,000. Oh, that's the oddest part. You can buy it for three cents. Three cents? Is this some kind of a joke? I hadn't been offered a lot of money. I wouldn't be working here. You'll think I'm a little mad now, sir, but I can't sell you the bottle without explaining certain things. All right, go ahead, explain. First, it is said there's an imp in the bottle, and the person who possesses the bottle can have all the things he wishes for. Aladdin's lamp. Now, I know it's a joke, as you will, sir. Second, whoever possesses the bottle soon begins to go mad. If he doesn't get rid of it within a fortnight, he becomes completely and eternally mad. Well, the whole thing's clear now. Some rich eccentric is having a bit of fun. I hope it's something like that. Third, whoever buys the bottle can only get rid of it by reselling it for less than he paid for it. Well, I'm not gullible if somebody thinks he can offer a beautiful expensive bottle for sale of three cents, hang a lot of superstitious ideas on it, and have fun watching someone shy away. Well, he's mistaken in my case. I'm not superstitious. I'll buy that bottle. There you are. Here's the three cents. How nice is we've ever had. And I think that legend is perfectly false, maybe. Especially that part about the owner of the bottle getting anything he wishes for it. Oh, I wish I had $20,000. Now I'll get it, darling. Hello? Oh, hello, Jameson. I always thought he'd go out with a heart failure. He left me $20,000. Huh? Oh, sure, sure, I'm glad to forget the money. Okay. Call me tomorrow. Is something wrong here? Susan, if you don't mind, let's not go out to dinner, right? I'd just like to sit around and look at that bottle. Are you upset about something that you are? It's that bottle, isn't it? All right, so it is. Darling, you're not going to start all that about the silly legend again, are you? Lily, how do you know it's silly? $20,000, the other things. Don't you realize that every time I've made a wish, it's come true? Coincidence, dear. But what if it isn't coincidence? The legend is true. Well, you know it's in the blood of my grandfather. You promised we'd never talk about it. What good will not talking about it? It's just a doorbell, dear. I'll get it. Whatever it is, I don't want to see it. All right, dear. Sorry, insistent. Alice. Who is he, dear? You crooked lawyer who's been pestering me for weeks. Tell him to get out before I throw him out. Oh, are you going to throw out? You? How dare you walk in here? Well, you won't see me in your office or I came here. My business with you is important. You haven't any business with me. You never have had and you never will have. You're a shite, the lawyer and a petty crook. Now look here, Mr. Wilder, you can't talk to me like that. I'll sue you for defamation of character. I'll sue you. You understand? Said Mr. Ellis died of heartache. Oh, I know what's in your mind. That bottle. You think it had something to do with Mr. Ellis's death. Don't you see it's just coincidence and all this about beginning to go mad. It's too superstitious nonsense. Robert, are you going to talk to me? Oh, darling, please. In three more days, the fortnight ends. And I shall be complete. Robert, why don't you take that bottle off and leave it someplace? Get rid of it. According to the legend, the only way I can get rid of it is by selling it for less than I'd pay for it. Then sell it if you insist. And head that bottle around telling about the legend and offering it for two cents, then people would know I'm sorry. Then just take it out and get rid of it. Please, Robert, for my sake, if not for your own. If in some magical manner it comes back to me, then you'll know that the legend is true. And if it is true, I won't be back. Won't be back? Oh, Robert, don't talk like that, darling. I don't want you to go at all. Stay here. No, I'm going now, Susan. Let me have that bottle. Robert, no, I don't want you to leave. And let go of it. Robert! I have to do it. Don't you understand? I have to do it. Robert, please don't go! Robert! I was almost out of my mind when I left the house with the bottle. I felt that unless I got rid of it, the legend about the bottle was true and I'd soon go mad. I walked down a dark street and stuffed the bottle deep into an ash barrel. Then we leave, get pretty shaky. I called a cab and asked him to drive me to the nearest place. I could get a drink. Here you are, sir. Well, how much do I owe you? Down a hair. Okay? Here you are. Keep the change. Thanks. Hey, fella. Yes? You left something in the cab. Well, what is it? It's got there. I put it there. Search me, fella. I guess you had it with you when you got in the cab. Let's drive here. Here's five dollars. What? Drive to the Brooklyn Bridge and take that bottle and throw it in the river. Do you understand? I don't understand, but for five bucks I don't have to. Leave it to me, mister. I'll get rid of that bottle for you. No, just the cigarette. Okay. Here's a change, mister. Give it. Something swell is just happening to me. But all right. I guess I gave you a devil of a time. It all seems so silly now. Let's not talk about it anymore. Let's have that drink. I'll mix it. No, no, nothing to it. You sit down and be comfortable. Let me do it. I hope that some of that lock to the lift cabinet seems to be jammed or something. Oh, now I got it. It's all right, dear. I... Do you think it would disturb him? Thank you. I won't be a moment. The doctor says you're going to be all right. Robert, I can't stand for this. Even though I don't believe in this foolish legend, I can see what it's done to you. But you must believe it. You saw how the bottle came back after I tried to get rid of it. No, Robert. It must have been in the liquor cabinet all the time. You were so excited when you rushed out of here, I didn't even think you had it with you. You're just deluding yourself. No suit. In any event, I'm going to put an end to all this. I'm going to take that bottle and sell it. And sell it for less than you paid for it. For two cents. Then, darling, if I do, will you be satisfied in your own mind that nothing is going to happen to you? Yes, Susan. If you can sell the bottle and I'll be all right. I know I will. If anyone comes to the door, we won't answer it. Don't you think you're overdoing it a bit? On the contrary. I've helped one of them all day. Ever since you told me that you sold the bottle to Mr. James. All right, Robert. A toast. A toast. I drink to the ruination of all imps, be they in bottles or otherwise. Darling, you're not listening. Susan, there's just one thing to bother. How did you ever get Jamison to buy the bottle? He's such a superstitious old guy. Well, to tell you the truth, he was pretty difficult. He said he'd take the temporarily to help us out. But he made me promise I'd find someone else to buy it from him. What? No one would buy it from Penny. Whoever did, it'd be stuck with him. Robert, you have plenty of friends who do anything to help you get over this ridiculous delusion. Friends? Who? What friends? Never mind. Now, for the last time, Robert, Mr. Jameson did buy the bottle from you, and I have arranged to have someone else buy it from Jameson. You have? Yes, I have, and that's all you need now. Now, is this a celebration, or isn't it? Oh, darling, I'm sorry. You certainly have some fun coming to me. I won't say any more about it, I promise you. That's better. Now, let's drink this champagne before it gets flat. Oh, someone would come at a time like this. Don't answer. Well, I'd better. Oh, not Susan. I think it's something I ordered from the stool right here. I'll be right back. Is Robert Wilder? Yes. I got a package here for you. I don't know what's in it, but it's Mark Frato. Must be glad. That's quite all right. I know what it is. Thank you. Oh, lady, just one more thing. Yes? This sounds kind of screwy, but it says on here, COD-1 Penny. That's right. COD-1 Penny. So you can say what you like, a paranoia, a schizophrenia, use all the scientific terminology that you want. I know that my wife went mad because of the bottle in her. However, I hardly expect famous psychiatrists like yourselves to believe that. As I told you, Dr. Jenkins, it's a most unusual case. I was unaware of these facts, however, when I asked you to consult with me. I understand, doctor. First, Mr. Wilder believed the bottle was inhabited by a genie, a creature. Then, through association and suggestion, his wife has led to believe the same thing. The bottle comes to her and she believes she is mad. Her malady has all the earmarks of oral suggestion. I believe that's why it is. Well, yes, yes. As in self-hypnosis. A perfect analysis, doctor Jenkins. I wish I could believe something like that. Mr. Wilder, I think I have a cure for your wife. You mean a... Do you really think you can help Susan? I believe so. If she is able to sell the bottle within the fortnight to someone else, it might cure her. Or, at least, compel her to believe she was cured. Yes, yes, that's the legend. But how could she sell the bottle? She paid one cent for it. There is no smaller monetary denomination. No, not in American money. Dr. Erickson, do you still have that English hat penny, that locked charm of yours? Hat penny. I think I see what you have in mind, doctor Jenkins. Well, yes, I still have it. Here. Oh, thank you. If the woman deludes herself that she can only be cured by selling the bottle, then I'll humor her and buy it. Excellent, doctor Jenkins. Mr. Wilder, I think we can promise to have your wife well again in a few weeks. Or in a few days, for that matter. And now, Mr. Wilder, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to your wife and try my experiment. Just a moment, doctor. I don't quite understand you. You mean that you're going to buy the bottle? Yes, for a hat penny. But you know you'll never be able to sell it again. Sell it? You let me take care of that problem, Mr. Wilder. Go along, doctor. Doctor, wait. Don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you? If you buy that bottle, then you'll become mad. Well, I'll take my chance on that. Good night, Mr. Wilder. Doctor Jenkins. Doctor Jenkins. So he doesn't believe me. Well, I warned him. I warned him. And, doctor Jenkins, what about doctor Jenkins? Did he go mad? Well, now, what do you think? Do you think it's possible that there was something in that bottle? Or I couldn't be cut there? Still, I'd like to know how that doctor comes out, wouldn't you? Anyway, that was tonight's mystery playhouse performance, The Bottle Limb by Robert Bruce Stevenson. See, we'd better hurry down to the green room or we'll be late for the preview of our next mystery. This is Peter Lowry closing the doors to mystery playhouse. Good night. Good night.