 The human mind is like a cave. Beyond the light, there are dark passageways and mysterious recesses. All right, Dr. Daniel Danfield of Explorer, those unknown retreats, and know their secrets. Today's story opens in the town of Barlow, located in southern New York state. It's late evening. Four people are beginning a final hand of bridge. Outside the snug living room, it's bitterly cold. With the light fall of snow on the ground, cards are shuffled out. There you are, folks. Pick up your cards last time. We really shouldn't stay even for this hand, snowing the way it is. Long drive back at Johnson. No, ten minutes won't make much difference. This stopped snowing an hour ago. Uh, what do you bid, Bill? Well, look at my card straightened out here. Okay, I'll bid a spade. Grant? No, I could double-bill, please. I'll bid two diamonds. There you go, talking across the board again. What now, Mr.... Oh, forget it, forget it. Sam, what are you bidding? Sam. Huh? Oh, oh, let's see here, I'll see you. Good heavens, he's drunk again. I am not drunk. I was a judge. I'll see you. Oh, Sam, you are drunk. What am I going to say to your mother? How could he be drunk? We've only had three bourbons each. Yeah, three bourbons each. How about that, Sam? You killed the rest of the bottle when you went out to mix those last ones? You're all crazy. So where's the judge? I'll bid five spades. Five spades? Oh, what's the sense in playing anymore? Come on, Sam, we might as well get started. No, wait a minute. I want to talk to this jug yet. Now, look, Sam, I'm your best friend, and I'm telling you, if you keep on with this drinking, it's going to get you down. That's all? Yeah, that's so. Some people can handle liquor and some can't. You happen to be one of those who can't. Why don't you face it? Now, Bill, there's no use talking to him when he's in this condition. Yes, there is, too. Sam always remembers everything that's said when he's drunk. I think Bill should talk to him. I wouldn't care so much if his mother weren't visiting us. She'll blame it all on me. See? My little woman doesn't care if I drink. It's only my mother she's thinking about. And you know that's not so. Yes, Toe. You are being hard on him, Bench. After all, Sam works hard, and drinking relaxes his nerves. Have you ever heard that crack before? Sure he worked hard, so do I, so do a lot of guys. Just because Sam makes more money than the rest of us doesn't mean he works any harder. He has the right to drink himself into a stupor. Oh, well, I'm stupor, am I? I didn't say you were stupor. But what I am saying is that one of these days your ticker is going to quit. Oh, yeah? Yeah. You can't keep up this pace. You're killing yourself trying to keep ahead of the rest of the crowd. Not to you, Billy Boy. Okay, not to me. But you won't be wearing that silly grin when you wind up in a hospital or a casket. No? No. Want to know something, Billy Boy? Bet I live longer than you do. Not the way you're going now you won't. Wanna bet? I'll keep going twice as hard and live twice as long. You're just lazy, that's all, Billy Boy. You're envious. You aren't smart. You spend half your time thinking up excuses because you're not making the dough I am. Sam, stop it. No. Time somebody told the guy off. He's got an inferiority complex. I'm sick of his preaching. Sick of being told I'm an old boozehound. Knock on myself. I'll just to keep ahead of the pack. He thinks you'll live longer than I will. I don't want to make a bet. All right, Sam, I will. I bet you $1,000 I'll live longer than you do. Oh, this is ridiculous. Son of nonsense. Sam, for heaven's sake. Don't mind this, Blanchie. All you gotta do is worry about telling Mama I was stink off. $1,000, ain't Billy Boy? It's a bet. Who's gonna pay off when the other one conks out? Well, he tried out a check right now and give him to ask her. Tomorrow she can cast him. You do know such things. This farce has gone far enough. Bill, you can't afford to tie up $1,000 for the rest of your natural days, and I won't have you. Natural days? Yeah. Do you hear what she said, Billy Boy? Natural days. She doesn't know... Shut up, you fool. Natural days, huh? Is she only knew what we knew, eh, Billy Boy? Natural days, oh, boy. Shut up. Sam, stop that laughing. What in the world are you running on about anyway? All right, shall I tell him, Billy Boy? Shall I tell him that our natural days will probably end before Esther has time to get the check cast tomorrow? In a moment we'll return for the second act of Danger Dr. Danfield, but first, now back to Michael Dunn for the second act of... Danger Dr. Danfield. Well, Westin, now that it stops snowing, we ought to be back in New York in less than an hour. I almost hate to get back, Dan. We had such a wonderful time up at Lake Pleasant. Yes, yes, it was Pleasant. Rather a romantic spot, Lake Pleasant. What was that you said? I said, uh, we had a nice vacation. Well, it'll be good to get back to work again. No, and I was sure that you said, Dan, look! Yes, yes, yes, I see. A young woman standing on the road, waving her arms. Don't stop, Dan. It might be a hold-up. I doubt it, Westin. That young lady's in trouble. She does look scared. Hello there, anything wrong? I ain't haven't do stuff. My husband, he's been shot. Shot? Your husband? Where is he? Back there, sitting in your car. I can't explain now. You've got to help me. No, of course we will. Rusty, move over and give the young lady room, will you? All right. Here, let me help. Thank you. I'm all right. It's about a mile down the road. Tell me, how did this accident happen, Mrs. ... It wasn't an accident. Sam was murdered. Murdered? Yes. It was terrible. Shot came from off in the woods. I didn't know what to do. You see, Sam and Bill had made a big mess. Just a minute, please. Suppose you tell us who you are and then begin at the beginning of the story. No, look, I ... You poor kid. Sam, do you have to ask your questions now? It's all right, I want to talk. My name is Blanche Hardy. Tonight, Sam, my husband and I spent the evening in Bala with some friends, Bill Thayer and his wife. Sam drank too much. We all lectured him. What was the bet you spoke of? Oh, silly. Sam got annoyed because Bill told him if he kept on drinking and working so hard, he wouldn't live much longer. And your husband bet this Bill he'd outlive him? Yes. We didn't take him seriously at first, but they both wrote out checks and gave him the bill's wife as to the whole. And you think that Bill shot your husband in order to win the bet? Oh, no. I don't know what to think. Sam's mother is staying with us. I didn't want her to see Sam drunk, so I drove into an old wagon road on the way home, hoping that Sam would take a nap and sober up. And that's when he was shot? Yes. Sam was just drunk enough to be stubborn. Apparently, he'd run, sat there talking, laughing about the bet he'd made with Bill. How long were you there before it happened? About 30 minutes, I should think. For a moment, I didn't realize what had happened. I just sat there stunned. Sam had fallen sideways. I spoke to him. He didn't answer, no. Yes, I lost my head. I don't blame you. Tell me, do you remember what you did, Mrs. Harding? I got out, started to run. Suddenly, I realized I was going in the wrong direction. I turned and came partway back. I saw a moving light, and it was an automobile passing on the road. I guess otherwise I would have become lost. And you can think of no one else but this Bill Flair, who might want to see your husband dead? Oh, but you mustn't say that. Bill wouldn't want to see Sam dead. They were good friends. Slow down, please. I think it was a long year. Oh? Yes, there's this wagon road going into the woods. There's the tire tracks, all right? You two stay here with us. Dan, I'm good. Oh, you're not rusty. The police would never forgive us if we messed up this new fall in the snow with a lot of footprints. Hand me the flashlight from the glove compartment. I guess you're right. Here you are. Thank you. Better close the door and keep it here going. It's pretty cold. I'll be back in a minute. Be careful, Dan. You don't suppose the man who shot Dan is still around? I doubt it. Besides, Dan can take care of himself. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come along. What do you mind telling me your name? Oh, I'm sorry. We should have told you before. Dan is Dr. Daniel Danfield, and I'm his secretary, Rusty Fairfax. Dr. Danfield is a chronicologist? Yes. Well, then perhaps you'll find out who shot poor Sam. He probably will. He likes to get mixed up in this sort of thing. Oh, here he comes back. Find anything, Dan? No, not much. What do you mean, not much? I mean, Rusty, that it looks as though it might have been Mrs. Hardy who had drunk too much of the party, and not her husband. What? What are you talking about? I didn't find your husband, Mrs. Hardy. In fact, I didn't find your automobile. There's nothing back there but a single set of tire tracks going off into the woods. No, I can't believe it. I can't. I must be going mad. You're sure you didn't have too much to drink yourself, Mrs. Hardy? Of course I'm sure. Even if I didn't have too much to drink when I manufactured such a fantastic story, would my husband leave me out on the highway at 12 o'clock at night? Would I urge you to go looking for the automobile if I didn't think it was there? I think she's right, Dan. Yes, there's no question about it. Tell me, is this your street, Mrs. Hardy? Yes, it's third house on the right. Oh. Something wrong? Well, that automobile parked in front of dollars. Dan, there's someone sitting in it. Yes, I see there is. Sam. Can see the bullet hole inside of his head. Well, that interests me more, Mrs. Hardy, is that the window on the driver's side of the car is open. Well, let's get out and take a look. I knew we'd find it with Sam. Just to make sure, let's open the door. Oh, Dan, he must have been leaning against the door. He's not all on the heap. Yes, I see, Dan. What are we going to do, Dan? We just can't leave him here. I can get full of Captain Otis of the state police. Otis, I think, will be very much interested in this case. Well, Captain, how did you make out? Not so good, Doc. We dusted everything for fingerprints and didn't find any. I rather expected that. I'm not as close as it was last evening. Everyone will be wearing gloves. Have you talked with Mrs. Hardy this morning, Captain Otis? Yes, and fantastic though, her story sounds, I believe it. Well, I suppose there's nothing to do but to begin at the beginning and work the thing out. Doc, how about sticking around, huh? I'll be glad, you Captain. Suppose we go out to the scene of the alleged murder and see what the marks in the snow tell us. Come on, let's get out. Well, there's a set of tire marks made by Hardy's car. I can check those, he's enough. And, uh, those footprints were made by Dan last night. I see. Well, how about that other set of footprints in the tire tracks? Say, there is another set. Hmm, walked in but didn't walk out. Well, they were made by a woman. Hmm, it seems strange that they went into the woods and didn't come out. Yes, yes. Well, I'm sure the car was parked. And the footprints we've just been following end right here. How about that set over there? Well, those, Captain, I think, were made by Mrs. Hardy when she left the car. She said she ran to the woods away before she realized she was going in the wrong direction, I remember. Hmm, and how about this set of footprints that lead in from the road and end here where the car was parked? I think we'll find, Captain, that those were made by the person who drove the car back to the Hardy home. But Dan, there's only one set of tire tracks going off into the woods. Naturally, there would be rusty. The chances are that this wagon road swings back to the main highway, or possibly in a set another road over beyond. Well, that sounds reasonable. But before we check it, let's look around here some more. Hmm, it's a good idea, Captain. I've seen her. Hardy was shot in the left side of the head, so the killer must have been over in that direction. Right, you are, Doc. All right, let's go. It couldn't have been very far away because of the heavy undergrowth around here. You would probably be standing over there in that big pine. You're right, Mr. Fax. Here's the footprints in the snow. Hmm. There's no doubt these were made by a man. There are two sets, one coming up to the tree and the other coming back to the woods toward the highway. Dan, look, there's a depression in the snow. Why, George, it's a handle of a... Well, yes, it's a gun. Don't touch it, Doc. The killer must have thrown it there after he shot Hardy. Oh, do you think so, Captain? Why, of course. It's perfectly obvious what happened. Well, what if it is? The murder probably won't last too. There won't be any fingerprints. Now, wait a minute. Now, look, Doc, what's on your mind? Don't you think that the killer stood here and shot Hardy and then threw the gun away? No, I don't, Captain. I don't believe a calculating murderer such as this person must have been would do anything so obvious. Hmm. Well, then what do you think happened? I think that if we make an impression of these footprints, we'll find that they belong to boots owned by Bill Thayer. I think we'll find also that the gun there in the snow didn't belong to him at all. And I think that the woman's footprints, which we found on the tire tracks, were made by Mrs. Thayer. In a moment we'll return for the third act of Danger, Dr. Danfield, but first, now back to Michael Dunn for the third act of... Your Dr. Danfield. Oh, hello, Assistant. Expecting company, Bill? Well, make sure it's that. All morning long you've been as nervous as a cat. And now I find you're tearing up the road as though you expected a ghost to appear. Nonsense. A little bit of a hangover, that's all. And you think the police can cure it? Look, what? What the devil are you talking about? Isn't that what you worried about, Bill? Isn't it the police car you expect to see coming down the road? For heaven's sakes, what are you getting at, Esther? I know, Bill. Know what? About you and Blanche. About me? I don't know what you're talking about. Yes, you do, Bill. Look, Bill, don't lie, please. It'll only make matters worse. I am a man. Understand what? That it was only a harmless little temptation. Blanche is very attractive. But she's not for you, darling. I see. How long have you known? It doesn't matter. Nothing matters now except that I still love you. And I'm not going to let it make any difference. And you don't have to worry about the police. Why should I worry about the police? I followed you last night, darling. When you said that you were worried about Sam driving home because he was so drunk, I meant it was just an excuse. It wasn't an excuse. I was worried. Bill, Bill, stop lying. Sam wasn't even driving. Blanche was at the wheel. Well, she wouldn't have been for long. You know how Sam is when he's drunk? Yes, that's right. Sam was at the wheel when he was shot. Wasn't he, Bill? What did you say? Oh, darling, why won't you trust me? Why won't you believe that I'm trying to help? Help? I don't need any help. I don't need any help. Let him go. You're trembling, why? Don't you think that I saw you come out of the woods? I did, you know? I heard the shot. Well, that's where you were last night. Who's that? It's the police. Don't worry, darling. Don't worry. I won't. Please, Blanche, get control of yourself, darling. Don't let them see that you're nervous. Oh, let them in. Yes? Hello, are you Mrs. Sayer? Yes, I'm Mrs. Sayer. Oh, I'm Dr. Danfield. This is my secretary, Ms. Fairfax. Oh, yes. We're working with Captain Otis on the murder of your friend Sam Hardy. Oh, yes. Come in, please. Thank you. Oh, is this Mr. Fairfax? Yes, I'm Fair. What was the name, Danfield? Yes, that's right. This is my secretary. Just why do you think Sam Hardy's murder concerns us, Danfield? Did I say it did? Then why are you here? Because the Hardy spent last evening in this house. Because when they left, you both followed them. Did we? You're jumping to conclusions on that one, brother. I followed because Sam was drunk, and I knew he'd insist on driving. Oh? They stopped to change seats. I plan to insist on driving him the rest of the way home. That's very good thinking, Mr. Fair. Fortunately, I can prove that you're lying. That would be interesting. Let's see you do it. Very well. If your car have good-rich Silver Town tires. Yes, why? Oh, I'm just checking. Sir, would you mind showing me your overshoes? Overshoes? Yes, just the ones you wore last night. You see, we made an impression of some footprints we found on the snow near the spot where Hardy was shot. And I suspect that they all match up very nicely with the soles of your overshoes. Yes, they are. All right. So, what's standing in the woods near the parked car? Does that prove I shot Sam? You're getting ahead of me there. I didn't even remotely suggest that you shot Sam Hardy. Anymore than the fact that your wife drove the Hardy automobile with a corpse of Sam still in it onto his home suggests that she shot him. But it doesn't prove either one of you innocent. Esther, is what he says true? Don't answer that just yet, Mrs. Thayer. There's a link in this chain of evidence that's missing. Frankly, I'm guessing when I suggest that you were both at the scene of the crime last night. You have no evidence? I have what I think will turn into evidence, yes. Then you actually can't prove a thing. I won't have to prove a thing, Thayer. Captain Otis of the State Police is on his way here right now with Mrs. Hardy. It's Captain Otis who will do the proving. And the so-called missing link you're after has nothing to do with Sam's death at all. Oh, yes, yes, it has a lot to do with it. I think the missing link is the real motive for the murder. It isn't. It isn't that serious. Oh, you've got to believe us. Believe what, Mrs. Thayer? Keep quiet, Esther. No, no, I won't. It'll only be worth it if the police find it out by questioning or if Blanche tells us Captain Otis. That's very sensible of you, Mrs. Thayer. All right, then let me tell it. Blanche Hardy and I were carrying out a mile flirtation. Wasn't serious, although Sam happened to have stepped into a room one day, unexpectedly. I see. So it became serious with Sam. I suppose so. Good. That's all I wanted to know, Thayer. Oh, well, Rusty, what time is it? Time? It's 10 minutes to 12. All right. Captain Otis should be here any minute now. Then I think we'll know the identity of the murderer. Uh, Doc Danfield and I have been checking our notes all morning, Mrs. Hardy, and we are reasonably sure that the footprints we found near the scene of your husband's death were made by Bill and Esther Thayer. But why would either one of them want to murder Sam? Why? They were our best friends. No, possibly it was because of the best the two men made. Oh, no. Even you must realize that one intelligent man wouldn't murder another. Just, just a $100,000 bet. Oh, then there must have been another motive. Well, they couldn't. Oh, no, wait a minute. Yes? Not. Too silly to think of a... No, I know I must be wrong. Wrong? Wrong about what? About thinking that Bill could possibly have shot Sam because... or because Bill was interested in me. That's the oldest motive for murder in the world, Mrs. Hardy. There was nothing serious. Bill wouldn't commit murder. I know he wouldn't. No, possibly not. I haven't met this Bill yet. Oh, is that the Thayer home? Yes, the one with the car parking time. It's all like a dream. I can't believe it really happened. Bill and Sam were such good friends. The line between love and hate is finally drawn, Mrs. Hardy. Now let's go on in. Dan and Miss Fairfax are waiting for us. Oh, hello, Captain. Mrs. Hardy. Hello, Doc. Hope we didn't keep you waiting. I don't know. Everything was very nicely timed. Doc, Dan, dear, has Bill... Admitted shooting Sam? No, Blanche, I haven't. Did you think I would? Of course I didn't, Bill, only... Only what, Blanche? Do you think it was...? I wouldn't answer that, Mrs. Hardy. Well, hello, Miss Fairfax. Hello, Captain. Doc, you'd better introduce me to these people, and then let's get going. Right. Mr. and Mrs. Thayer, Captain Otis. How are you doing? Now then, Doc, let's have it. Very well. When Mr. and Mrs. Hardy left the house last night, Hardy was pretty drunk. Mrs. Hardy prevailed upon him to stop the car and try to sober him up by taking a nap. She drove into the wagon road for that purpose. Huh. That was when Hardy got him behind the wheel. Like most drunks, he objected to being told what to do. Yes. Thayer was following the Hardys. He saw the tail out of their car disappear into the woods. He guessed the reason. He stopped his own car, cut through the woods, and stood near the big pine, listening. I've already admitted that. I knew Sam would be belligerent. If Blanche needed help, I wanted to be on hand. Oh, that was noble of you, Fairfax. However, some time later, Mrs. Thayer called a taxi from the all-night stand, and the legion set out for the Hardy home. When she saw her husband's car parked beside the road, she drove on pass, dismissed the cab, and walked back. And it was just about then that you heard the shot. Is that right, Mrs. Thayer? Well... Yes, that's right. So what can I say? They know. Yeah. Yeah, I guess there's no use. It was I who shot him. You shot him, Fair, but you didn't kill him. What? Sam Hardy was already dead when you pulled the trigger. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Mrs. Hardy had fixed it so the fumes from the exhaust came into the car. I didn't. That's not true. Oh, yes, it's true, Mrs. Hardy. We've gone over your car and found where you had previously attached the length of rubber hose to the exhaust pipe so you could direct the fumes with a minimum of... But, uh, I... When you stepped in the woods, Mrs. Hardy, Sam was asleep. You rolled up the windows of the car and then stepped outside and waited for him to die. Afterward, you arranged the exhaust pipe the way it was before and then rolled down the window on the driver's side so that no one would suspect he'd been asphyxiated. You can't prove that. You can't prove it. Sorry, Mrs. Hardy. You were wearing woolen gloves. A thread from those gloves caught under breath if holding the exhaust pipe. Oh, no! No, you can't tell by this, Sam. Not just a little thing like that. It doesn't prove anything. It doesn't not just a little thing like that. In a moment, we'll return for the conclusion of Danger, Dr. Banfield. But first, now for the conclusion of... Danger, Dr. Banfield. Just for my benefit, Ben, will you go on with that story and clean up the loose ends? Loose ends, Rusty? Yeah. Let's face it, Doc. There are plenty of them. You must have been pretty sure it was Mrs. Hardy who was guilty in order to ask me to back up your bluff about the thread from the woolen glove catching on the bracket of the exhaust pipe. Oh, I was, Captain. And what I can understand is why didn't Mrs. Sayer see Mrs. Hardy when she ran from the woods and started up the highway? Mrs. Sayer did see her, Rusty. Naturally, she didn't give her presence away because she knew that Bill was in the woods and was practically sure it was he who fired the shot. Well, that makes sense, but look, Doc, how were you so sure that Blanche Hardy was fixated her husband? Because, Captain, by the time we found Hardy his body in the car in front of his house, Rigor Mortis would have set in if he had been shot, and it hadn't. You see, Rigor Mortis never sets in when a person dies of carbon monoxide poisoning. Say, that's right. When we opened the door of his car, Hardy's body fell out and crumbled up in a heap. Wouldn't have crumbled up like that if Rigor Mortis had set in. That's right, Rusty. Why didn't you tell me about that in the first place, Doc? Because, Captain, proving that Mrs. Hardy was lying and proving her gildy of murder were two different things. I wanted to establish her motive first. Well, that wasn't the only reason. No, it wasn't. Frankly, I had to have material for a lecture on delivering tomorrow night. Well, then, we did have a nice vacation anyway. You know, Rusty, if Captain Otis weren't here, I'd end our vacation with a proper gesture. As a matter of fact, I think I will anyway.