 Now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Roma Wines, present. Suspense. Tonight, Roma Wines bring you the MGM star, Miss Agnes Moorhead, in Post-Mortem, 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 and entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals. Yes, right now a glassful would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Agnes Moorhead, in a remarkable tale of... Suspense. Up with the buttercups. Come on, get up, get up. Here comes the sun. Good morning, darling. Oh, Stephen, you goose. Ah, your coffee, madame. My stars and crown, I wish you wouldn't insist on my having coffee and bed. Stephen, it makes me feel like a loose character, just like the old days when I was in the thick. Coffee and bed, then a long soak in the tub under the sun lamp. That's all dark art is prescription for those aches and pains of yours. There isn't any aches and pains for weeks now. There, that proves it. You can't afford to stop the treatment now. Besides, you look beautiful with a sun tan. Well, if that's the case. Have some coffee with me? Oh, I'm sorry, it's nine o'clock. Oh, that trend doesn't leave the nine twenty-two. Ah, but the early bird gets the seat, my precious. I'll just start the water running and set up the lamp. Oh, you needn't go to all that bother. How do you like your water this morning? Warm, lukewarm, hot? Warm. Setting the lamp for ten minutes. Mind you don't take too much, right? Ah, dear, all right, all right. Now, if you get in the bath, just as you hear me close the front door, you'll get just the right amount of sunshine. Oh, really, Stephen? Now, where's my goodbye kiss? Stephen, I... Goodbye, Stephen. Goodbye. Up with the buttercups. Come on, get up, get up. Here it comes. Well, I'm done, I guess. Well, I've got everything now. Sorry to disturb you, darling. Well, you better hurry. You will miss that train. Bye-bye, darling. Be good. What? What does she know yet? Oh, hold that, William, this is me. All right, fine. Now, let's go inside, maybe in the kitchen. Yes. What were you doing? Fixing breakfast for your husband? I'll put the camera away, can't you? Since she doesn't know yet? She don't know yet. Haven't you been listening to the radio, Mrs. Me? No, no, it's Tuesday burned out. Why? She really don't know yet. Well, for heaven's sake, will you tell me what it is? Why are you going to ask us in? Well, I shouldn't have. Why, that's very funny. Now, your husband, ma'am. My husband, where he just left the house. No, no, we got news for you, Mrs. Me. My name is Archer now. I explained that to this man, yes. Wesket's my name. Paul Wesket, I'm from the evening bulletin'. Oh, you're a newspaper man. Oh, my stars and ground, I haven't been interviewed by the press since I opened in Bright Eyes in New Haven. Oh, it's 20 years ago. You are an actress. Well, I gave up my career after I married Miss Mead. I often thought I might go back to the theater, but things didn't work out that way. Yeah, well, that's very interesting, Mrs. Archer, but about the news we were going to tell you. Well, don't tell her like a guess. Oh, please, let me... Can't you guess? No, and I wish you'd... I'll give you a hint. It's the day that Darby has run off. Darby? Can't you guess why we're here? Your horse has come in first. Oh, you must have the wrong party. I don't own any horse. Oh, no, no, no, no. Don't you understand? The news just came over the ticket from London. You're one of the three Americans to hold a ticket on Ravana on the sweepstakes. Oh, there must be some mistake. Don't you understand? You've won $150,000. $150,000? Oh, my stars and ground. What's the matter? Don't that make you happy? Boy, what a caption. Housewife wins sweepstakes. Must be mistakes, she says. Oh, no, no, there really must be some mistake somewhere. It must be somebody else at the same name. You see, I haven't any ticket on R... I haven't any ticket at all. Well, sure you must have. Where'd they get your name and address from otherwise? They don't just make them up out of thin air. What are you trying to do? Hear that? Oh, now, wait a minute. Wait a minute. You say the winning ticket is in the name of me? Yes, Mrs. Josephine Meade. You said that was your name. Well, then it must have been my late husband who bought the ticket. You see, the housings is my name and I stayed on here after I lost Harry and after my marriage to Mr. Archer. Oh, yeah, then that's right. Meade bought the sweepstakes ticket in your name. Anyway, you're the winner. But I don't even have the ticket. You mean it's lost? Well, I never even knew he bought one till now. He never said a word to me about it. Gee, you better look around good and see if you can find it. Yeah, you can't collect the money without it. Have you any of your late husband's effects around the house, Mrs. Archer? No, no, they've all been exposed of. But I went through everything very carefully. If there had been anything there, even sewn into the lining of one of his suits, I'd have found it. I think, Mrs. Archer, if your late husband never told you about it, he must have been intending to surprise you in case it won anything. So he would have put it somewhere where you wouldn't be likely to find it, wouldn't he? Well, he would in any case. I didn't approve of his gambles. Oh, Mrs. Archer, now think hard. Wasn't there a suit he didn't wear very much, one you might not have sent out since the ticket was bought? Put away in mothballs, maybe? Well, there was his dark blue. Dark blue. He'd only worn that once or twice. I mean, I never looked there. You see, I sent all his other clothes to the Russian War Relief, but the dark blue was in such good condition. It was practically new, Mrs. Archer. Oh, that's where that ticket is. I'll bet any amount. It's in that dark blue suit. Let's have a look right now. Well, I'm afraid that's not possible. Not possible. Oh, really, Mrs. Archer? Because that's the suit Mr. Mead was buried in. For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you as star Agnes Moorhead in Post-Mortem, a radio play by Robert Talman from the story by Cornell Woolrich. Roma Wines' presentation tonight in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills. Suspense. Between the acts of suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines. Evenings at home can be dull as dish washing or friendly as a fireside, depending upon the ingenuity of the lady of the house. Now, here's a simple suggestion many smart American homemakers follow to brighten stay-at-home nights. 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Agnes Morehead as Josie Archer with Joseph Kearns as Stephen in Post Mortem, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Music So you can see them, that's the only place it can be. It's there in the casket with him. What makes you so certain of that? Well, the one and only time he wore that suit before his death was once at it afternoon when he went out for a stroll and stopped in at a pool room. What more likely place than that for him to borrow a sweepstakes ticket? Well, if it's buried with him, he'll kiss a goodbye. But $150,000, Stephen. You haven't any right to disturb a grave just on a hunch like that. Harry might have lost the ticket. Oh, I tell you, I knew Harry me. He'd no more lose a thing like that than... Well, he just wouldn't. If it's there, it'll just have to stay there. Hi, Stephen. All we have to do is get a cord. I tell you, I won't stand for it. It's sacrilege. If we've got to disturb the dead, we'll just have to let the money go. But it wouldn't be like desecrating a grave. I wanted us to have that money. After all, you were in this place. As your husband, I forbid you to disturb that man's remains. Stephen, really, I... Now forget that there ever was such a sweepstakes ticket. Is that understood? All right, Stephen. Whatever you say. Yes. And if that snooping newspaper man comes back here, you're not to let him in this house. Yes, Stephen. Is that a promise now? Yes, Stephen. It's a promise. Well, I've got to go now. I'll miss my train. We'll talk about it some more tonight when I get home. All right, dear. Oh, uh, don't forget to take your sun-lamp treatment. No, I won't. Bye now. Bye, dear. I'm not reconsidered. I definitely have not reconsidered. Stephen and I have talked it over, and he's deeply shocked, and so am I. I must confess that the very suggestion of disinterring for Harry, you'll simply have to go elsewhere for your front-page scoop, because I am absolutely adamant on this point. And no, I'm out of his way. All right, all right. Oh, I shouldn't be doing... All right, you wait here, Mrs. Archer. No, I shouldn't... Now, don't take it like that, Mrs. Archer. We have a court order all properly signed and perfectly legal. I shouldn't have let you talk me into this. I'm just weak. That's all. I'm just weak. Yes. Stephen is sure to suspect something. That 150 grand ought to go a long way toward making him forgive you. Well, will... Will it take long? No, the workman is supposed to have it already. All it has to be done. Well, it won't take long. Would you rather wait in the caretaker's house? No, no, no. I'll come along with you. All right. You, Mr. Wescott? Yep. Well, there it is, Mr. Wescott. We hoisted it up, but we didn't open it yet. All right, here's the authorization. Pry the lid off of there and make it snappy, will you? All right. Hey, you take that hand over there, Jack. Okay. Keep it off the face. What are you doing now? Frisk in the corpse. Oh, okay. And don't ask me why. Dear me. Oh, dear. Keep the light off his face, will you? Sensitive type. Okay. I got what I came for. Please get that light off his face. Okay, Mr. Okay. All right, if you're all finished, we'll tuck him in again. Wait a minute. Mm-hmm. Put the light back on him. On his face. No, on his face. Hey, what's a big idea? Okay, you can toss that light in. Listen, you guys. Leave this just as it is. Stick right here until you hear from me. I'll come. What's the matter, Mr. Wesker? I'm not sure yet, but I just got to hunch that the DA is going to want an autopsy on this body. Nice stars and crowns. Up with the butterflies, here comes the sun. Hey, what's this? Up and dressed already? Well, I bought some things in town yesterday afternoon. The delivery man usually comes around 10 o'clock, so I thought I'd put off my sunlamp and bath until then. Oh, you will take your treatment then, promise me? Oh, all right, darling. But really, you worry too much about me. You must have come in awfully late last night. Did you see the show through twice? Stephen, I... I didn't go to a picture last night. Mm-hmm. I did what you told me not to. What are you talking about? Here it is, Stephen. $150,000. You fool, you stupid little fool! Stephen, let go of my shoulder. You're hurting me. Who's with you? Who saw it beside you? Nobody, Stephen. I got the permit and took it out there and showed it to the man in charge of the ground that he got a couple of workmen. Yes, go on, go on. Well, one of them got it. Out of the vest pocket, and then they put the lid on again and lowered it and covered it up. Are you sure everything was put back again just the way it was? Yes, Stephen, of course. Well, I... I'd hate to think he wasn't put back properly. Then you weren't angry with me? Well, I guess I acted pretty silly about it. I thought... I don't know what I thought. Stephen! Stephen, you didn't suspect me of having anything to do with... with Harry dying so suddenly. Oh, of course not. What an idea. Look, you better give me that ticket for safekeeping. I'll put it in the safe down at the office till you're ready to turn it in. Oh, that's a wonderful idea, Stephen. It makes me nervous having it around the house. $150,000, Stephen, just think of it. Yes. Harry's been pretty good to us, hasn't he? Oh, don't say things like that, Stephen. Oh, I'm sorry. Oh, good lord, it's nearly 10 o'clock. I've missed my train. Well, if you hurry, you can catch a 10-15. Yes. You won't forget your lamp. No, I'll start at a 10-15 shop, I promise. Sorry to be such a dutch uncle darling, I do worry about you. Well, you're wonderful to me, Stephen. Goodbye, darling. Goodbye, Stephen. See, be careful, darling. He just this minute left the house. I suppose he took the ticket with him. How did you know? I know a lot of things. For instance? The DA's ordered that autopsy on the body of your late husband. Oh, my stars and crowns. I think they'll find out he was murdered. No. Oh, no. Your present husband, Stephen Archer, is an insurance agent, isn't he? Well, yes, but I... I'm sure your late husband's heavily in your favor just before his death. Oh, well, that doesn't prove anything. Well, maybe not. Uh, he's pretty good to you, isn't he? Well... Takes you to Florida every winter, stuff like that. I should say not. How did you get such an idea? That coat of tan you've got. Oh, that's from the sun lamp. I had a slight cold a while back and now Stephen insisted I use the sun lamp for 10 minutes every morning while I'm in the bath. While you're in the bath? He says it's more beneficial that way. It's a terrible nuisance, of course. The bathroom's quite small and the lab is always toppling over and falling on top of me. How's that? Well, I always wait until Stephen has left the house in the morning to take my bath and then he almost always forgets something at the last minute and comes dashing back and blundering into the bathroom and over and goes. What sort of things does he forget? Oh, and one day it's this clean handkerchief and the next some papers or other things that he needs or a fountain. Does he keep all those things in the bathroom? No, no, but he can never find where they are so he comes barging into the bathroom to ask me and then over and goes to the lab. You don't say. I suppose you're insured pretty heavily in his favor now. Well, you're naturally big in the business. Yes, naturally. Mr. Westcott, you don't think that... I don't think anything yet. Oh dear, whatever shall I do? I tell you what, there's a way to find out if you'll cooperate with me. With your acting experience this ought to be easy for you. Now this is what I do. Stephen, this is Mr. Westcott. He's with the bulletin. What can we do for you, Mr. Westcott? I stopped in the district attorney's office on my way here, Mr. Archer. They've just completed an autopsy on the body of Harry Mead. It wasn't my idea, Stephen. Believe me, it wasn't. You understand, of course. I'm not with the police. I'm in this for a news story. Or anything else that might come my way. I see. I might be able to help you people if you'll tell me the truth. What was the result of the autopsy? The court hasn't made out yet, but I think they'll find he died of a blow over the head. Sit down, Mr. Westcott. I might as well tell you everything. You don't have to tell this man anything. Stephen, let me do this in my own way. You see, Mr. Westcott, it was all my doing. Stephen was in no way to blame for what happened. He used to come over in the evenings to see Harry, not me. But the more I saw him, the stronger the feeling grew on my part. He was heavily insured in my favor. He never took me seriously. He always scarred at my love for the theater. And I couldn't help thinking how opportun it would be if anything took him away from me. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Westcott? Gone. Well, the night Harry died, he had gone out in the back of the house. You see, to get some air. I was doing the dishes and it came over me all of a sudden what I had to do. So I dried my hands and went upstairs and got out an old flat iron I no longer use. And I came downstairs with it, hidden under my apron and went out to where Harry was. Well, I stood there talking with him for a moment. And I waited till he turned his back to me. And then I did it. You did what? Well, I swung the flat iron by its handle squarely at the back of his head. He didn't die right away, but he was unconscious and I could see it was all over. He had a weak heart, you know. And, well, afterwards I took the iron over in the vacant lot and buried it. And the rest happened as I told you. Stephen came round and we carried him into the house. You mean you didn't notice the wound? Didn't it bleed? Well, it did a little, but I washed it off. And then I took some pinkish face enamel I had left over from the days when I was an actress and I plastered that over the wound and even powdered it so it would be less noticeable. I made a good job of it because after all I do know something about those things, you know, Meika. So that's why the doctor never noticed it when he examined Harry's body. Josie, I can't believe it. Forgive me, Mr. Westcott, but this is a terrible, terrible shock to me. Well, now you know everything. I suppose you may as well drive me to police headquarters. Why should I? You mean you aren't going to turn me in? That dent in his head could have been made by the men who exhumed the body. You and I are the only witnesses to that, Mrs. Archie. But, yeah, but look here, can't they tell me? In most cases, in this case, the body happens to be in a remarkably fine state of preservation. Besides, if I do you a favor, maybe you'll cut me in for a little of that sweepstakes taken. Anything? Anything you like? Good. I'll come back tomorrow and we'll talk it over. Good night. Good night, Mr. Westcott. And thanks. Thanks from the bottom of our hearts. Good night, Mrs. Archie. Good night. Well, my dear. Stephen. I've got to do a little thinking, Josie. This, uh, this changes things considerably. It won't make any difference between us. Well, it's Stephen. I did it for us so we could be together. A few of all people and going out there and then looking at his body. But he was so well-preserved, Stephen. He just looked as if he was sleeping. What is? Well, he was looking so well. After all, it's been some time. It's just like in the Emerald Snuffbox. What? The Emerald Snuffbox, you remember. I played it for 33 weeks at the Court Theatre opposite Henry Dixie. That was how they knew that it was poison because of the way the body looked after all that time. Poison? Well, those bungling police doctors will never find it out. We can shut up that fool over a porter with a sweepstakes ticket. That was a windfall anyway. We'll never miss it. But Stephen, we can't count on things turning out the way we want them to. I made that confession just to give us a little time. We could take a plane in the morning and be in South America in a few hours. Oh, no. That'd be very foolish. No, my dear, our best strategy is just to go on as we always have. I'll take the train into the office. You'll take your bath and sun lamp, and we'll be the same loving couple we always have been. Tell me, have you got any idea where my iron pills are? I went off without them. Well, they're on the side before. I can't hear you, dear. Mind if I open the door just a bit? No, Stephen. Is that what you say? Josie. Josie. Now who the devil? All right, I'm coming. Mr. Atchard. Yes? My name is Madison, Bureau of Detectives. Oh, yes, Inspector. Come in. This is most opportune. Your coming just this time. I was just about to telephone the police. Oh. The most terrible thing has happened, my poor wife. Your wife? She was in the bath, taking her sun lamp treatment like a blundering fool. I opened the door and the lamp fell over into the tub. I ran downstairs to cut off the house current, but before I got back, she must have... Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ran all the way downstairs to cut off the house current. Why didn't you just pull out the plug? I was panicky. I got confused. There was a dreadful glare of light sparks flying all over the place. I was half blind. Where's she now? She's still in there. I was trying to get up my nerve to go in when the doorbell rang. I couldn't bear to see her like that. Inspector, electrocuted. It's too horrible. Well, we'll go up there and have a look. Probably too late, though. Yes, Inspector. I'm afraid it is too late. But as you say, we must do all we can. Well, Miss Atchard, this certainly happened at an opportune time, as you say. Yes. A warrant has just been sworn out for your wife's arrest for the murder of her first husband, Harry Mead. This reporter here from the bulletin said he got a confession out of her. Hello? Oh, poor Josie. Poor Josie. Oh, perhaps it's just as well it happened this way. Is it, Stephen? Is it just as well? Josie! Well, Mrs. Atchard, congratulations. You carried it off with flying colors. What do you mean, carried it off? My stars in crown, Stephen. I wasn't even in the tub. I just stood behind the door and screamed when the lad went out. Why, Josie, you ought to be ashamed of yourself giving me a fright like that. It's no good you're pretending any longer, Stephen. Mr. Westcott was absolutely right. You're nothing but a common murderer. Josie, I'm sure you don't believe that I... That is what my confession was for, you goose. Oh, you kill poor Harry. Well, you've got the poison and everything. Don't you, Inspector? That's right, Mrs. Atchard. Why, you're worse than Sheldon Lewis was in the Iron Claw. You would stoop to anything. Ah, stars in crown when I think. What might have happened if Harry hadn't had on his new blue surge when he bought that blue-stake ticket? Well... Josie. Some little Josie. Well, I guess this about ties it. Come on, Atchard. Let's go. Up on your feet. Yes, Stephen. Up with the Buttercup. Suspense. Resited by Roma Wines. R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Before we hear again from Agnes Morehead, the star of Post-Mortem Tonight's Suspense Play, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines. Here's a trick in taste magic that will help you win family praises, even for meals made of leftovers. 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And afterwards he told me all about next Thursday's suspense show, on which he's going to be the star. You sure and listen in because it sounds wonderful. Next Thursday, same time, Roma Wines will bring you Vincent Price as star of... Suspense, Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills. Produced by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.