 And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world, Roma Wines presents... Suspense. Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Miss Susan Hayward as star of Dame Fortune, 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 excellent California wines that can add so much pleasantness to the way you live, to your happiness in entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals. Yes, right now, a glassful would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Susan Hayward in a remarkable tale of... Suspense. Nobody's believed this so far, but maybe someday somebody will. Not that it really matters. It's just something to do to pass the time while I'm waiting. It was our fifth anniversary and we were having a party. And as usual, partly because a ham is always a ham, no matter how long they've been out of the business, and partly because it's really easier to go ahead and do it than to spend your whole evening refusing, I was supplying the entertainment. But each time I do, just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin because I've gone under my skin because I've gone under my skin. Suddenly, suddenly, why do you think I married her? Broadway's last was Nicholson's game. Oh, darling, for someone who's been married to me for five whole years, you still say some awfully nice things. Well, why not, darling? I say, Jean, sing, you'll be so nice to come home to. Were you in that show? What was the name of it? Oh, no, dear, Frank had already snatched me from my career by that time. Excuse me, Jean, darling, you wanted on a phone. Phone? This hour? Who is it? I don't know, dear, it's a man. Probably one of your old admirers. Oh, don't be silly. All my old admirers gave up ages ago. All right, I'll take your word for it, my sweet. But now you'd better go see who it is. All right. Don't anybody go away. I'll be right back. All right, now, I'll buy you a drink. Hello? Hello, Jean. Who's this? Perhaps I should say Mrs. Nicholson. You're not Jean Marley anymore, are you? Who is this? Is this something I can do for you? I'm rather busy right now. That is a phrase you might forget me. I've been away such a long time. This is Charlie. Charlie? Charlie Prescott. Little San Quentin. You're still there, aren't you, Jean? Yes, I'm still here. You're surprised? So you're back. I'll see you. Oh, no, Charlie. That's all over. You mean you don't want to see me? Save it, Charlie. I suppose I knew all along this would happen someday. When'll it be? Oh, sooner or better. How about tomorrow? I can't tomorrow. Make it Wednesday in the afternoon. Say three o'clock? Same old place? No, not there. What about the Shangri-La? All right. You be sure and be there, won't you, sweetheart? I'll be there. Three o'clock, then, sweetheart. Three o'clock? Oh, just an old friend. Oh, why didn't you ask him over? Oh, he was just passing through town and wanted to say hello, that's all. Well, maybe some other time. Yes, some other time. Don't let anybody tell you that prison doesn't change people. It does. And Charlie'd had seven years of it. It's not just the prison pallor that you'll always tell you about or extra dividends and gray hair. It's something else, an expression in the eyes. And more than that, something I didn't figure out until quite a while later. I'll say you're looking great, sweetheart. Let's cut out the compliments, Charlie. You don't mean them, and neither do I. Now, wait a minute, sweetheart. Don't get me wrong. You don't think I'm sore about anything? Like, say, because you're married? You don't think that now, do you? Why should you be? You knew I wasn't going to wait around for you. It was never that serious between us. Ah, that's what I'm saying. Why, I'm tickled pink, you married the guy. Particularly since I hear he's really in the dough, huh? But good. The trouble with you blackmailers is... Oh, that's a nasty word, sweetheart. The trouble with you blackmailers is that you think all a woman with a wealthy husband has to do is just run down to the cellar and bring up a basketful any time she wants to. Well, it's not like that. He spends the money. I don't. No joint bank account? Oh, sure. What do you think happens when all of a sudden two or three hundred a month just starts disappearing? I wasn't thinking of hundreds, sweetheart. Oh, of course not. And the bigger you think, the harder it gets. Don't you see that? Well, he's got a will, hasn't he? I suppose so. Don't stall, sweetheart. You know he has. You know what's in it. It all goes to you, doesn't it? Yes. I guess it does. You know it does. And you want a cut? I want half. Before taxes are deducted or after. Don't get wise. I did a lot of figuring where I was, and I figured you owed me something, sweetheart. I figured you owed me plenty. Well, you're going to have a long time to wait for it, darling. I'd say about thirty years because he's healthy as a horse. Who said anything about waiting? You do have big ideas, don't you? You like it? You don't really think I'm going to become a party to the murder of my own husband, do you? Sweetheart, you mustn't use those words. You must have gone a little crazy up there, Charlie. Who said anything about you being a party to her? Oh, you handle it. I just wait. Is that it? Well, I know it's not as big a part of the job as you handle the last time, but that's a general idea. What do you say? What do you think? Sweetheart, did you ever stop to figure out what they'd give you if they found out? I don't know. I do. The same as they give me. Maybe worse. Listen, Charlie, suppose I told you I love him. You? I wouldn't believe you. I wouldn't believe it if he combined the best features of John D. Rockefeller, Albert Einstein, and Clark Gable. No, I suppose you wouldn't. Well, that's the way it is, Sweetheart. That way or the other. Make up your mind. Well, it would have to be an accident. That's okay. It could be an accident. All right, Charlie. You win. There's only one way that I know of to deal with blackmail. Agree to the terms first and find an out afterwards. And that's how I'd plan to play it. I will confess that the murder of my husband for his estate was a little stiffer price than I'd been prepared for. But by the time I left, I knew how I was going to play that tool. Charlie had never been quite as smart as he thought he was. That's one reason why he went to prison, and I didn't. That evening after dinner, I went in to see my husband in his study. There's something I have to tell you. Well, what is it, darling? I'm pretty serious. Well, all right. What is it? Frank, I'm being blackmailed. What? This is going to hurt you, darling. Afterward, you can do anything you like. But I know that the only sensible thing and the only decent thing is to tell you the whole story. Gene, no matter what it is, no matter what, I love you, darling. That's all that really matters. Do you understand that? Yes, I do, darling. Frank, a number of years ago before I knew you, I had some trouble, bad trouble. I was just a kid, and when I got mixed up with a wrong man, his name was Charles Prescott. I didn't know how wrong he was until someone got killed. Charlie managed to convince the jury, more or less, that it was an accident. His sentence was from 10 to 20 years. He got three years off for good behavior. Frank, he's out of prison now, and he has evidence that I was involved. I was involved much more than ever came out in the trial. Well, that's the story. Well, that's not so bad, darling. What's his price? His price is... Oh, Frank. Oh, there, there, darling. It's all right, it's all right. Now, come on, tell me the whole thing. His price is that he plans to murder you and make me give him half of what I inherit. The man must be crazy. That's just it, he is. He's just crazy enough to try it. He's planning some sort of an accident. Oh, Frank, I'm frightened. Now, darling, don't you worry a bit. I know just how to handle this. Oh, Frank, not the police. No, darling, no. Not the police. Early the next morning, we were visited by a chunky little man named Sparks from the Continental Detective Agency. I told him the story, or most of it, and all the time I was talking, he kept watching my husband. I got the impression he might be a little difficult to deal with. As it turned out, I wasn't far wrong. It's a good story, Mr. Nicholson. But it's not right. Not right? What do you mean? Well, for instance, why don't you go to the police? I've told you it's a case of blackmail. But it's not just a case of blackmail. Hmm? According to your wife, here's an ex-con with 13 years still hanging over and out on parole, and he's threatening your life. We can throw him back in the can just like that. Look, Mr. Sparks, you, uh, you don't have to know all my family affairs to handle this case to you. No. But it would help. Suffice it to say that, uh, it's a delicate matter. We can't go to the police. Then perhaps you better tell me just what you do want me to handle. I want you to locate him and then follow him day and night. Get him out of your sight. Eventually, I suppose, he'll try it. To kill you. Oh, Frank. Now, Jean Darling, remember, you were going to let me handle this. I know, but... But don't you see, dear, if we actually catch him in the act of attempted murder, then we can send him back to prison and nobody would ever believe anything he said. Hmm, must be a very delicate matter. It, um... it is, Mr. Sparks. Well, you'll hear from me. Mr. Sparks, suppose he should try to contact me? You mean you think he'll try to shake you down beforehand anyway? Just for love? Well, you see, he thinks I've agreed with his plan. The accident. Hmm. The way we're handling it, there's only one thing to do. Play him along. I see. Well, is that all the information you need, Mr. Sparks? If that's all you'll give me, that's all I need. By Friday night, they've located Charlie. By Monday morning, they know more about him than his own mother. Frank took the train for San Francisco that night. He wasn't due back until Wednesday morning. Tuesday afternoon, Charlie called me, as I told him to. Hello, Charlie. Oh, hello, sweetheart. Yes? You get that? What you said you'd get for me? Yes, I got it. I hope you got enough, because, uh, what I mean, well, it's gonna be, uh, what, expenses? Expenses? Yeah, I gotta make contacts. I don't let anybody else in, but I'm gonna need a little outside help on one or two things. Oh, I see. These things take time. Mm-hmm. It may be quite a while. I'm not stalling, you understand, but you can't expect action on a thing like this right away. I think I understand. It, uh, maybe two, three weeks, even more. It's gotta be laid out right, you know what I mean? Mm-hmm. Well, uh, where can I pick it up? The stuff you got for me. You can come out here. Out there? Yes, this evening, about 10. There'll be no one here. Listen, I don't think that's so good, Duke. You're not afraid, are you, Charlie? No. No, but... You tried to see the layout of things. It might give you some angles. Well, yeah, but... You remember what we said? How it had to be done? Accident? That's right. Well, you be here at 10, Charlie. I'll have everything ready for you. I knew then what prison had done to Charlie. He'd lost his nerve. Now that he faced it, murder was too much for him. He'd never go through with it. It would all come down to one petty shakedown after another, year after year. It was even more obvious now that I'd have to do what I'd counted on from the beginning. If my husband was to be murdered, he'd have to be murdered by me. For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Susan Hayward in Dame Fortune by Max Wilk and E.R. Merklin. Roma Wines' presentation tonight in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrill's Suspense. Between the acts of suspense, this is Ken Niles for Roma Wines. Next Thursday, ghosts and goblins will haunt your street. It's Halloween, a good night for grown-ups to remain safely inside entertaining a few trusted friends. A good night to serve Roma Wines, so delicious with snacks or sandwiches. Yes, Roma Wines add friendly companionship to any occasion. And with Roma California's Sherry, Port or Muscatel, you're sure to please every guest because more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. The reason? Roma Wines taste better. Yes, Roma Wines are better tasting. First, because Roma starts with California's Choices Grapes. Second, because Roma, with America's finest winemaking resources, guides this luscious grape treasure unhurriedly to tempting taste perfection. Third, because only Roma selects from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. Delight your Halloween guests with better tasting Roma Wines. Tomorrow, ask for Roma, R-O-N-A, Roma Wines, largest selling wines in America. And now Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood sound stage Susan Hayward in Dame Fortune, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Charlie arrived that evening in a rented car, right on time. As I opened the door to him, I noticed another car just putting out its headlights about a quarter of a mile down the hill from our driveway. That would be Mr. Sparks. Charlie had never seen the house before and he was impressed, but a little nervous. I took him into the drawing room. Hey, quite a layout you got here, sweetheart. Frank likes to have the best of everything and he can afford it. Sit down. Well, uh, you know, I can't stay but a minute or two. What's the matter with you, Charlie? You seem jumpy. Oh, me? Why should I be jumpy? I don't know. I'll tell you something, though. I was a client. I have had the funny idea somebody was following me the last couple of days. Who'd want to follow you? That's what I can't figure. I'm clean with the local dicks and they don't tell you unless they think you're working on a job. Nobody else would want to tell me. Unless I've been double-crossed by somebody. Like you, sweetheart. But if I double-crossed you, you'd see that I was sent to the penitentiary, wouldn't you, Charlie? I would devote my entire time to it, sweetheart. And that's why I wouldn't double-cross you, isn't it, Charlie? Yeah, I guess you're smart enough to see that, all right. You got the dough? Yes, I've got it. How much? A thousand dollars. Well, uh... Oh, I knew you'll be around shaking me down for more before you get to business. But that will hold you for a while, won't it? Sure, sure. Well, uh, I better be moving. Where's the dough? I don't have it here. You don't have? No, it's in the car. Frank was home for a while and I didn't want to bring it into the house. He's inclined to be a little snoopy sometimes. Well, let's get it. You can get it on the way out. It's in the glove compartment. No, no, wait a minute. I'm not sure I like this. Oh, don't be silly. The car's in the garage and nobody's around. It's chilly and I just don't want to go out. That's all. It's in the Cadillac convertible. Yeah. I guess you're enough spot to pull me fast once at that, aren't you, sweetheart? Okay. You'll be hearing from me. Yes, Charlie. I'm sure I will. Through the glass panel by the door I watched him head for the garage. Somewhere out there in the darkness, I knew that Mr. Sparks would be watching him, too. Then I buzzed the house phone for Olson, the chauffeur. He lived over the garage. Olson speaking. This is Mrs. Nicholson. I'm sorry to disturb you, Olson, but I haven't a glance out of the window just now and I thought I saw a man prowling around the garage. A man? Yes. I suppose it's silly, but would you mind looking out your window and see if you notice anything? Sure, sure, Mrs. Nicholson. He was running away. You want me to go after him? He was running away. Sure, he's running plenty, but maybe I can catch him. Oh, no, that's all right. If he was running away, I'm sure he won't come back. There's nothing you could take out there anyway. If you want, I'd be glad to. Oh, no. No, that's all right. I'm sorry I bothered you, Olson. Good night. Good night, Mrs. Nicholson. I waited almost two hours until I was sure Olson would be asleep. Then I went out to the garage myself. I'd taken a course in automobile mechanics during the war. I hadn't learned much, but I'd learned enough to know what would make a steering knuckle fall apart after about an hour or two of hard driving. And Frank was driving down to San Diego the next morning as soon as he got back from San Francisco. And Frank was a hard driver. Frank left the next morning on schedule. I won't say it was pleasant waiting. I paced the living room in the hall for almost an hour, but never more than ten steps from the telephone. Hello? This is Charlie. I got to talk to you. I can't talk to you now. Listen, Jean, I got to tell you something. I can talk to you now. I began my pacing again. The phone rang three more times in the next fifteen minutes, but I didn't answer it. Then it stopped. Almost three hours went by. I'd begun to be afraid that one of those other calls had been the one I was expecting. And then it rang again. Hello? I'd like to speak to Mrs. Frank Nicholson, please. This is she. Mrs. Nicholson, this is Dr. Whitty of the La Jolla General Hospital. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs. Nicholson, but there's been an accident. Your husband. My husband? Oh, is he? Well, it's hard to tell just yet, Mrs. Nicholson, but I think you'd better come down here. I got out of the sedan and started for La Jolla. I was terribly nervous and depressed. I crept along at no more than forty miles an hour, but somehow I got there. They showed me directly to Frank's room. He was all covered with bandages, but he was sitting up in bed. And with him was Mr. Sparks. Hello, Jean. Frank. Are you... Oh, not too bad. Oh, darling. A couple of ribs in an arm. They thought I had a fractured skull for a while, but I guess I have a pretty hard head. Well, what happened? Well, something went wrong with the car, Jean. I was going pretty fast. I'm lucky to be alive, I guess. Charles, Prescott. Frank, I saw a man prowling around the garage last night. Olsen saw him, too. You think Prescott might have camped with the car? Oh, Frank, I told you not to go through with this thing. Well, I don't know. What do you think of that theory, Mr. Sparks? Oh, you remember Mr. Sparks, don't you, Jean? Of course. It couldn't have been Prescott, Mr. Nicholson. He never got into the garage. I was right behind him, and I guess maybe he heard me. Anyway, he beat it. I understand you were in the garage last night, Jean. Isn't that correct, Mr. Sparks? We had another man posted on the grounds. That's what he reports. Of course I was. There was a book in the car that I wanted. There was a thousand dollars in currency in the glove compartment, too. Yes, I know. I didn't have time to tell you this morning, but he wanted money. I talked him out of it. Mr. Sparks knew he was at the house. You told me to see him if... Frank, you don't think that I... I don't want to think so, Jean. Oh, how could you? How could you? Well, it's just that steering knuckles don't usually come loose by themselves. That and all the rest of it. Then it must have been an accident, a real accident. Don't you see that? Oh, Frank, how could you believe that I do a thing like that? I love you. Oh, I know. I've thought and thought and thought everything. Mr. Sparks has told me and I... Oh, I can't believe it, Jean. Mr. Sparks, you don't think I could have done anything like that. You can't. It's just a matter of your beliefs, I guess. Beliefs? What you want to believe, and who you want to believe in. My office will send you a bill, Mr. Nicholson. Good day. Oh, Frank. Frank, darling. Oh, I'm sorry, Jean. I'm horribly sorry, darling. It's just that, well, it looks so bad and... Oh, I wanted so much to hear you say you didn't. Oh, I didn't. I didn't. You know I didn't. Of course I do, of course I do. Look, darling, look, cheer up, cheer up. I've got a plan. A plan? Yes, yes, we need a vacation. I'll be out of here in a week or so, and then we'll go away. We'll just drive around the country, do a little hunting and fishing, whatever we like. You always used to love those trips. Oh, yes, Frank. Let's. Sure. Sure, we'll just go off and take it easy for a while and forget the whole thing. Yes, let's. And forget the whole thing. That's what we did. And I almost did forget the whole thing. It seemed like a nightmare that I dreamed a long, long time ago. I couldn't believe that I'd really done what I'd done. And I knew I'd never do it again. As though by mutual consent, we never spoke another word about it. But I was at peace for the first time since I could remember. And I knew that even Charlie could be dealt with somehow when we got home. We drove all over the state for almost three weeks. And on the way back, we stopped over at Little Lake in the Sierras. One day we rode across it and had a picnic lunch on the other side. Oh, it was beautiful and so peaceful. There wasn't another soul around for miles. Frank still had the cast on his left arm. It made him a little clumsy. Getting back into the boat again, he stumbled over the shotgun, till it up against the seat. I knew he was dead even before I got to him. At police headquarters, they questioned me a little while and then they left me in the room alone. But a few minutes later, the door opened and somebody came in. It was Mr. Sparks. Well, so you finally did it. Oh, no. No. The trouble with you amateurs is you don't know your case histories. That hunting accident gag is too old, Mrs. Jacobson. Much too old. But I didn't. I swear. I swear to you I didn't. Well, you got the money now anyway. At least you can hire yourself a flock of good lawyers. Please. Please don't. I can't bear it. I didn't do what I tell you. You can ask Charlie. Charlie Prescott. Charles Prescott killed himself this morning when the police arrived to question him. Look, Mrs. Jacobson, I'm in this thing up to my neck, unfortunately. I'm going to have to tell what I know. And I know somebody tampered with a steering knuckle on that car and it wasn't Prescott. I know you tried to kill your husband and put it on Prescott. It just doesn't add up any other way. All right. Yes, I did. But I didn't do the other. You've got to believe me. I didn't. You didn't shoot him, man. By all that's sacred in the world, I swear I didn't. Hmm. Could be. You do believe me. Say that you believe me. What's the difference? Nobody else will. That's all. Except my execution will be on the 31st. One week from today. Suspense. Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. And now this is Ken Niles, returning for the curtain call with a lovely star of tonight's suspense play, Miss Susan Hayward. Susan, we think you were wonderful. Well, it was a wonderful part, Ken. For your grand performance, Susan, here's a gift basket of Roma Wines with Roma's compliments. Well, thank you very much. Ken, will you grant me one tiny little favor? Well, I certainly just name it. I'm simply fascinated by the way your narrator says suspense. Ask him to say it again, huh? Just for me. For you, Susan, he'd probably say it in technicolor. Joe? Suspense! And Susan, you needn't be insuspense about what to serve when friends drop in for the Roma California sherry in your gift basket is the favorite of millions for afternoon or evening entertaining. And Roma sherry is the perfect first call for dinner. Roma sherry. I'll remember, Ken. And when you serve Roma sherry, Susan, your guests will remember its finer taste. For to make Roma sherry better tasting, Roma Vittners select California's choicest grapes. Then, with America's finest wine-making resources, Roma guides this great treasure to tempting taste richness. Later, Roma selects from this world's greatest reserve of fine wines for your pleasure. No wonder more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. That's a real recommendation, Ken. Now tell me who's on suspense next week. Well, next week gets Brian Donlevy in a suspense play about a man upon whom a freak of nature confers a terrifying attribute. He is a human liar detector. It's impossible for him to hear a falsehood without instantly knowing it and revealing the deception. Terrifying is right. I'll certainly be listening. And that's no lie. Thanks, Susan. And we're looking forward to seeing you in the Walter Wanger production smash-up. Thanks, Ken. Good night, everybody. Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Mr. Brian Donlevy, a star of suspense. Produced and directed by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.