 Good evening. This is Peter Lorre. Hey, did you ever have a nightmare? Did you ever go through a horrible experience that seemed very real? Yes, sometimes reality and unreality seem as one and I'm not so sure anymore. But the fellow tonight in a mystery playhouse. Tonight we are going to have a nightmare. That is, we are going to hear about somebody else, which is almost as bad. This gentleman had a particularly realistic one. In fact, he didn't know for the life of him. Whether or not it really happened. You listen for yourself to the unfolding of William Irish's strange and intriguing story of a man who dreamed he committed murder and woke up to the fact that maybe he actually had. Listen to nightmare. What's on your mind? Look kid, I'm working. What's so important you can't tell it on the phone. Cliff, it actually happened. That's why I've got to see you. Did you kill somebody? I can't believe it, not you, Vince. Listen, meet me in the office in 15 minutes. Whatever you do, don't tell anybody else about this. Go ahead, Vince. Tell me some more about this dream of yours. Well, after that, Cliff, all I remember is the white face. The face of a woman. Beautiful, but, but false somehow. You see, we were in a room with nothing but doors, eight doors, frame to frame with no wall space between. Well, I, I opened one of the doors and suddenly someone rushed at me. We struggled and he forced me to the floor. As we fought, he said to the woman, hand me that knife. Well, I raised my hand to defend myself and suddenly I felt the handle of something. I realized the woman had put the knife into my hand by mistake. And then I... Then you stabbed him. Yeah, and I stabbed him. Well, after that the woman disappeared and I felt I had to hide the body. Well, behind one of the eight doors there was a closet. I propped the body inside and I locked the door. Then I went out of the house. It's horrible. I can't get it out of my mind. But what makes you think any of this actually happened? It's an unpleasant dream, sure, but it's not unusual. Lots of people dream they killed someone. But when you dream do you wake up with big scratches on your wrist like this one? What are you asking me to believe? You got up in your sleep and you killed somebody? Scratch on your wrist proves nothing. I admit that, but... Then when I got out of bed this morning, I... Here, I found this button. Now, wait a minute. You're not going to tell me that button came off in your hand while you were wrestling with that guy in the dreams. That's the way it happened. That I refused to believe. It came off your shirt. I could never afford pearl buttons. You know that, not real pearl. Now, listen to me, Vince. I don't want to hear any more of this. If I weren't your brother-in-law, I'd lock you up and call the psychiatrist. How do you think all this makes me feel? Cliff, if it wasn't for the key, I could forget the whole thing. Key? Key? What key? I suppose it's something else from your dream. Now, stop it, Vince. I don't want to hear any more. That's right. Go ahead. Get sore. But no matter how angry you get it, it doesn't destroy the reality of this key. Look at it. You never see a key like this these days. It's threaded. It's full of scroll work made of brass, old-fashioned, but nevertheless real. And in the dream, if it was a dream, that's the key I used to lock the body in the closet. What's there left to think? Only this. There's somewhere, somewhere, there's a door that this key belongs to. And behind that door, there's a dead man, and I don't know where. My lord, I don't know where. Who he is and how and why it happened. Now, look, kid, it's just one of those cock-eyed dreams that happen to people. That's all. Ah, if it'll make you feel any better, you can go into the teletype room and watch the reports, Vince. Every crime committed in this state is reported on those machines. Maybe you can identify yourself with some criminal and get this thing off your chest. I'll join you later. Haven't you given up yet? Don't be funny, Cliff. There's one here that's possible. A stabbing in a town called Clarksburg. Clarksburg? Yeah. There's no transportation up there. You never did learn how to drive a car. You'd really need supernatural aid to kill somebody up there. Oh, wait a minute, Cliff. There's some more coming in on that stabbing in Clarksburg. It's a description. Killer, five feet nine, weight 150, brown hair, wearing a yellow and green sweater under a brown suit. Hey, Vince, you wear a yellow and green sweater, don't you? Don't be corny. You gave me that sweater for Christmas. Maybe it's only a coincidence, but you're about five feet nine, weight about 150. Ah, that couldn't possibly have been you, Vince. Who are you talking for yourself? I know I found that key and the button in the pocket of my brown suit. You're not kidding anybody. You want to know just as much as I do. Come on, let's get started for Clarksburg. The lousy rain must be a cloudburst. Ah, I can't see a thing. This windshield wiper's broken. Cliff, do you know where we are? We've been lost for the past five minutes. I don't even remember how we got on this road. Well, I'm going to roll down the window, getting wet, sped it, and crashing into something. Hey, Cliff. Yeah. Take the next road to the left. That'll get us to Clarksburg. How do you know it'll get us to Clarksburg? I thought you said you'd never been out this way before. Well, I don't know how I know. All of a sudden, everything looks familiar to me as if I'd been over this same road before. I just know you've got to turn left at the next road. Stop here, Cliff, stop here. Hey, what's the big idea? You're trying to kill somebody, grabbing a break that way? That house, Cliff. There was the big porch. That's the house with the eight-room door. How do you know that's the house? What you said you'd never been out here before. I've never been here before in my life. Unless... Unless it happened in your dream, is that it? Well, I think this is all crazy. We'll soon know for sure. Come on, we're going in and see whether there's an eight-doored room or not. The front door wasn't locked, Cliff. Never mind that. How do you know the eight-doored room is upstairs? I just know that's all. Cliff, I think it's this room right here. This is it. This is the place, all right. Count them. One, two, three, four, five. Hey, doors. Where's that key? It's right here in my pocket. I don't think I'll have to get it out. I can't. My hands are all wet. Perspiration. Stop acting like a baby. You're sweating all over. There's the key. Now, which door? That one, I think. There's nothing there. Not now, there isn't. But there was something there. What? There's blood on the wall. Oh, Lord. How do you believe me? How do you understand that I wasn't joking when I told you about my dreams? Sure, I believe you. I believe you dreamed you killed somebody and stuffed them in the closet there. I believe you never saw this place before. That you intuitively knew which road to take and which house to come to. What do you take me for, a dope... I wasn't lying, dear. Cliff, I wasn't lying. You came to me for help, didn't you? But you didn't have guts enough to come clean to say, Cliff, I went out to a place last night and killed a guy for such and such a reason. Now you cook up a dream trying to take advantage of me because I married your sister. No, Cliff. Abusing my gullibility because I like you. Make it a fool out of me. Cliff, I wasn't lying. Everything happened just as I told you did. How I happened to know this house was here, I don't remember. You've got to believe me, Cliff. Shut up. The dream's over now and baby's awake. You're going to start all over from scratch, you and me. I'm going to get the facts out of you. Please, Cliff. Let go of my shoulder. You're hurting me. What were you doing here last night? I never was here before. I never saw it until I came here with you. Don't lie. Every time you lie, you're going to get something like this. Please, Cliff. I'm not crazy already without you beating me up. Who was the guy you did it to? What was the thing? I tell you, I don't know. I don't know. Are you going to answer me, Vince? I can't. You're asking me things I can't answer. Who was the guy? Why did you kill him? I've handled close mouthed guys before. You're going to tell me if I have to slap it out of you. Right in this spot where you killed somebody else. Cliff, please. Please don't hit me again. What was that? It sounded like a door slam. There was somebody else in this house. Which door did we come in? I don't know. One of the eight. All right, you guys. I've got you covered. Back up against that door there. One false move and I'll drop you. You've found what you're looking for yet. Yeah, I guess I've seen enough. This stuff in your wallet identifies you. Cliff died at homicide division. Why didn't you say you're a detective? Nobody's business. Okay, okay. Wagner's my name. I'm the sheriff around here. When I see people monkeying around a house where a murder's just been committed. Murder? You found the body? Yeah. As a matter of fact, there were two murders. A man was killed and stuffed in that closet over there. He found the other body outside. A woman. Wasn't dead when she was found, but she was dying. Run over by a car. Deliberately. The car was run back and forth over her body. She said a few things before she died, told us all about the other body in the closet, and gave us a pretty good description of the killer. She said the same person murdered the man in the closet and deliberately ran over her body with a car? No, but what else is there to conclude? Yeah, poor Mrs. Fleming. She owned this house. Expect her husband home from South America tonight. She was a flirt, but even so a very charming woman. You don't happen to have a picture of this woman, this Mrs. Fleming, do you? There's one in the next room, that door behind you. Open the door, Vince. I can't, Cliff, I can't. Open the door! Please, Cliff! Open the door! That's her, that big picture on the left. Pretty, wasn't she? Cliff. That's her. Well, now it's a matter with him. He's fainted. Can't stand the sight of people who've been murdered, even if it's only a picture. Give me a hand with him, will you? You feel any better, kid? Yeah, yeah, I feel all right. Cliff, Cliff, that picture, it was the same woman. The woman from the dream. Oh, so the woman who was run over and over with an automobile. But I can't drive, Cliff. You know I can't drive. Yeah, if it hadn't been for that, I'd have turned you over to Wagoner for murder. Did the sheriff leave? Yeah, he left. But I still don't believe that stuff about a dream. Are you sure you didn't leave something out? Some small detail? No, no, no. I told you everything, Cliff. I was tired. I went to bed early. I fell asleep. And it's right after Mr. Berg closed my door. Berg? You didn't mention any Mr. Berg before? Well, he moved into our room he house about a month ago. Why did he come into your room? Well, the lights went on a blink. I remember he was carrying a candle. How was Berg holding that candle? Well, the flame was right in front of his eyes. I remember staring at it. I was very tired, Cliff. I don't remember everything. And Berg, he said, you're very tired, didn't he? Yeah. Yeah, now that you mention it, he did say that. Good. Now, have you ever seen this picture? No. No, but the man looks familiar. See? That looks like Berg. I never saw him so well dressed, but that's Berg, all right? I found this picture in this room. Here? In this room? You found Berg's... Why are you driving at him? Sense, reason, logic, sanity. The man you identify as Berg also happens to be Mr. Fleming, the husband of the woman who was killed last night. Berg is Fleming, and Fleming is Berg? Now, I'm really going out of my mind. It's simple to a flat foot. I figure that Fleming pretended he went to South America. He took a room in your rooming house under the name of Berg. And tonight he's pretending to return from South America. At least Wagner said he's expected. And last night Fleming came back here and murdered his wife? But who killed the other one? The man? You did. But you didn't know you were doing it. Oh, I did kill someone after all. I am a murderer. I still don't understand how it happened. All right, kid, relax. Because we're going to find out tonight. Find out? Right. Now, if Fleming comes home as his wife expected him to do, you're going to be waiting in this room for him. Waiting with a gun. That won't do any good. It might after you've learned a few answers. Now, I'm going to tell you exactly what to say to Fleming word for word. You might not understand, but you're going to memorize the things I tell you to say word for word. Memorize? Yeah, because your life depends on it. Cliff, you're not going to leave me here alone, are you, Cliff? There'll be nothing I can do to help you, kid. If everything goes right, you'll come out of this scot-free. If anything goes wrong, that's the end. Now, Fleming will probably come up those stairs at the far end of the hall. You'd better stand over here. The first thing to remember, let him speak first. How did you get here? You showed me the way, didn't you? You remembered coming here? You're lying. Who brought you here? Who came with you? Justice Gunn. That's impossible. You had the look, the typical look. And why did you do everything you were told? I wanted to see where it was all leading. I thought there might be some good in it for me later. You purposely pretended? You mean you went ahead and consciously killed her? I figured you'd pay off heavy afterwards to keep me quiet. I found your wife and her lover just as you said I would. It was easy. I should have known my control wasn't perfect when I saw my wife come running out of the house. She saw my car, came toward me. I waited and gave it the gas. I killed the man and you killed your wife. You wanted them both dead, didn't you? Yes, yes, but I didn't want to have to kill her myself. I loved her, but I hated her. She said I was too old for her. That's what I wanted to hear. What? That's it? To hear you convict yourself? What did you do? I was lying to you. Your control was perfect. You hypnotized me easily. I guess I've got a weak will or something. Well, then what did you do? I was lying to you. I was hypnotized all right. I happened to see your picture here in the house. I recognized you as Burg. And now I can't clear myself before the law ever. And you're going to pay for doing that to me now. Now, wait a minute, wait a minute. Don't, don't do that. Don't shoot. Now, look, look, look. Here, here, I have a watch. See it? Solid gold, inset with diamonds and rubies. It's worth $20,000. It's yours if you'll let me go. Stop dangling it that way. What are you trying to do? Now, listen to me. Give me another minute, a minute by the watch. Stay where you are and I don't move. You, you know what I should do you, my friend. You wouldn't want to smash this beautiful, lustrous watch. A golden, shining little timepiece. You can't take your eyes from it, can you? Please, don't. Take it away, shining in my eyes. But you love that you're fascinated by it, aren't you? And now you're tired. You're very tired. And that gun is much too heavy for you to hold. Just drop the gun to the floor. It won't be so heavy anymore. Just drop the gun. Drop the gun. My control is perfect. Here, take this notebook and this pencil. Take notebook, pencil. Right as I dictate. I am wanted for the murder of two people at the Fleming House. I wanted the murder of two people at the Fleming House. They are bound to get me, so I take this way out. They are bound to get me. Take way out. Son, your name. There, now give me the notebook and the pencil. Now pick up your gun again. Hurry. That's it. Now put the barrel of the gun in your mouth. Put the barrel of the gun in your mouth. Good. Now pull the trigger. How is he, Sheriff? He's dead. We just made it in time. I didn't think he'd try anything like that. Vince, Vince, come on a bit, boy. I'm all right. It's just that everything's hazy. Fleming really threw a trance on you. You were just going to blow your own head off when I plugged Fleming. Had to. Only way I could break the spell in time to save you. You shot Fleming? Cliff, did I do it all right? Did I do everything you told me to do all right? Perfect. I had a hunch it was hypnosis the minute you told me about the candle. Well, how was I going to prove it? Only by having you come up against Fleming. That's why I left you here. Wagner and I were in the basement with a dictaphone. We put a microphone in the ventilator. I didn't want to make you nervous. That's why I didn't tell you about it. Then I'm, I'm free. I won't be tried for murder. Not around here you won't. I'm a sheriff here. This crime is solved. Oh, thank heaven for that. I don't think I could go through a court trial. One nightmare in a lifetime is enough. It was a nightmare. Tonight's performance in a mystery playhouse. And now for heaven's sake, let's get off that nightmare. Let's walk down to the green room. For a gander at what sweetness and light is in store for you next time. Always sweet, always light. You know what? Our play is only hers in there, so follow me, please. Come, come, come. Hard to convince Anna at first. Easy enough for me to say we have to get rid of Oli. But Oli was Anna's brother. We talked it over on the cliff near the land. We have to, Anna. We have to go through with it. Oh, Richard, there must be some other way. The way things are now, everything's hopeless. You know that. With the paint formula cleared, we can be married. Richard, I love you so much. I'd do anything for us. But, but this, this is... Murder? Huh. You needn't look at it that way, darling. So far as you're concerned, Oli will just disappear. But suppose something goes wrong. Suppose you're convicted. Not a chance. You can't convict a man for murder until you find the body. And they'll never find Oli. We must, Anna. We must. Very well, Richard. When? When will you... The moment Oli finishes the formula, it's almost ready now. I'll have to do it that instant to make my alibi whole. Today, tomorrow, soon anyhow. Everything else is ready. I love you above everything else in the world, Richard. I love you enough for even... Have I been a friend? No. Oh, I'm snoozing, eh? Travelling on trains makes some people sleepy. Not me. Been on trains all my life. Never get sleepy. So far? Satan's point, Maine. Satan's point? Never heard of it. Must be a devil of a small place. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! How sad. Satan's point. Devil of a small place. Good, eh? Have a peanut? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Devil of a place. Devil of a place. Devil of a place. Devil of a place it was that day. We went over every detail again and again until our story was perfect. A lot depended on the story we constructed. A lot depended on telling it well. I told it well. To the police in Maine and to the alianists in Boston. I started the story with the morning of October 11th in Oli's laboratory. This is my last mixture. It will be ready in a few minutes, and I want your eyes to be well rested. Think you've got it this time, Oli? No, there's no longer any doubt. When these pigments are mixed, I will paint a square board. It will look like a dirty green to my eyes. And to mine? To yours? Those of millions of others who are colorblind. Red. Red that you have only imagined till now. Red of the rose. Red of a sunset. Red of fire. Red of blood. I put the blindfold on. I could sense Oli's tenseness. He'd worked 15 years to make this moment alive. But just from all I can see, a miracle is about to take place. I confess to one great fear. What's that, Oli? I'm not afraid the formula is wrong. I'm afraid for you. For me? Yes. I have to warn you, Richard. I don't know. No one knows what mental reaction takes place when a person who has never seen color before suddenly does. You... You mean that I could be affected? You could be. You see, red excites even normal people. It vibrates in the brain. But you... Let's have a look, Oli. Now, Richard, when you take the blindfold off, it looks straight ahead of you. The board is right before your eyes. Look, Richard, when you do start talking right away, I want your immediate reaction. Okay, here goes. See, Richard? Looked at red. Richard, talk. Something I couldn't. It's hard enough to recall the little that I do. I was staring straight ahead of me at a square board. Nothing happened for a brief instant. And then... I caught my breath sharply. It burned. I closed them, but the patch of exquisite color seared my brain. A single hot flashing stab of pain pierced my head. And then I felt a surge in power. A physical power gripped me. And Oli's voice reached me. My whole being seemed to focus on his voice. I had to choke it off. I didn't recall reaching for him across something. And finding his throat. And then... Then nothing more. But the breaking of glass. And a sensation of violent action. Motion and action that lasted long after the voice stopped. Then I felt cold air lashing at me. I was carrying something limp and heavy. There's a point of rock outside the house. It juts over the sea. I stood there for I don't know how long. The first clear thing I recall is identifying Anna's voice coming toward me. Something died in me. I sagged to the ground morning. Anna... Anna, I'm afraid! I'm afraid! How do you suppose all this is, huh? Sounds like somebody got themselves murdered, doesn't it? That was an appetizer for our nictons to your creed. And that old master ship. The laughing boy of the inner sanctum. Raymond... Raymond's going to be here next time. A company with his fellow creeds. In another tent to scare their living daylights out of you. So why not humor the old creed? Be around when we open this grating door within us. This is Peter Laurie. Closing the doors of the mystery playhouse. Good night. This is the armed forces radio service.