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And then I realized the phone was really ringing. I seemed to remember. It had rung before and I hadn't answered it. But maybe it had been only this one ringing a long time. Because just as I got there it stopped. Hello? Hello? I suppose I'd had one of my spells. I never could remember very well just after them. But I know I've been working or trying to. It was my latest and I thought it would be my best. It was about a woman who killed her husband. But I'd had all kinds of trouble with the end. Everything was all right up until the explanation how she did it. I knew of course but somehow I just couldn't write it. It wouldn't gel. It had been going on like that for some weeks. Then today I must have had another spell. I'd been having them ever since the accident. Ever since Ned was drowned. They'd begin with headaches. It would get worse and worse and I'd lie down. And when I'd wake up I wouldn't remember for a while. Sometimes when I woke up I wouldn't even be in the same place. Instead of lying on the couch or on my bed I'd be sitting up in a chair or at my typewriter. Once I even found myself sitting in the car on the garage. It was a strain of everything of course. That's why I started going to Dr. Winter. And now it seems though my poor nerves are faded. One shock after another. Because now Dr. Winter was dead. You see he'd been murdered. This is Harry. Harry Bailey. Where have you been? Why? I've been right here Harry. Why don't you answer your phone? I've been trying to get you all afternoon. I must have been asleep. How's the book coming? Oh not very well. I'm afraid Harry. Still still. I guess so. I'm awfully sorry Harry. I know I promised it to you weeks ago. I get it. Those things happen. Listen Emily. I've got a great little proposition for you. It'll make you some money. It'll get your mind off the book for a while. And it'll be worth a million dollars worth of publicity for us. Oh what's the catch? Well I was talking to young Hayes. He practically runs the old man's newspaper chain for him now you know. And he wants you to cover the winter case for the whole syndicate. Oh. Now wait a minute. Before you make any snap judgments. In all the time I've been your publisher I've never given you a bump steer yet have I? But Harry I'm not a reporter. That's just it. You write it from your point of view. The way it looks to the country's foremost woman detective story writer. The clues. The evidence. How it all fits together. Truth is stranger than fiction and so on. You see what I mean? Well I don't know. You see I was a patient of his Harry. All right all the better. Famous man murdered in small resort town. And also happens famous woman mystery writer lived in same small town even was murdered man's patient. Knows everybody with their first names and so forth and so on. Emily this will put your name in headlines in every city in the country. I know that's a trouble. You see well what will Cara say? Well why? What's it to Cara? Well I'll grant you she may have had a slightly exaggerated idea of his importance. But after all she was his man Friday for the past year. And now to have her own mother. Stepmother anyway. Writing it all up in the papers and making capital out of it. Don't be silly Emily somebody's got to write it. And you'll do it with sympathy and honesty and understanding. What's the greatest thing that could happen as far as getting a fair break in the papers is concerned? And it's a chance in a lifetime for you Emily no kidding. Oh I'd like to as I say. All right Harry I'll do it. I had a girl. Now listen I'll have Hayes draw up the contracts right away. Anything you say Harry? Well I'll be in touch. Night now. Good night Harry. Hello Mother. Hello darling. Who was that? Harry Bailey. He wants me to cover the winter case for the Hayes syndicate. See what? I told him I would. Oh Mother. Oh Mother how could you? Why not Cara? Because. Because it's bad enough that he's dead without dragging it through the papers all over again. But it will be in the papers anyway darling. And as Harry says at least I can give it sympathy and understanding. Empathy and understanding. Why Cara? Please Mother please don't do it. Stay out of it. We'll only get more heartaches out of it that's all. Why Cara? Why? You almost sound as though you were afraid. Are you afraid of anything? Afraid? All right then maybe I am. Maybe that's just what I am. Afraid. I had never really understood Cara. She was Ned's child not mine. I was only a stepmother. Not that we weren't the best of friends but. She'd always been a little strange. More like a mother I imagine. And then the shock of losing Ned and this on top of it. There were times when she seemed almost in a dame. It was hard to blame her. The next day Harry phoned to say the contracts were all in order. And I was to report to a lieutenant Han of a homicide bureau. Who would permit me to interview the girl they were holding for the murder. And in general act as my guide, philosopher and friend. But upon appearing at his office. I found a gentleman with his hat on his head and his feet on his desk. Who didn't bother to remove either. And nearly stared at me. Something? I'm Emily Carlisle. I was told to report to you. You're the lieutenant Han? Uh huh. I was told that you would sort of show me the ropes. Uh huh. I deduce from your attitude that you are not particularly pleased by the prospect. I cannot tell a lie. You deduce right. Well isn't this nice. We're not going to get along. I wouldn't say that Miss Carlisle or is it Mrs. Miss. My married name is Wales. I was married to Ned Wales you know. Ah. Suppose we clear the air a little lieutenant. I take it the barrier between us is the old one of professional versus amateur. Dealer in fact versus dealer in fiction. And you disapprove of fiction. I got nothing against detective stories or detective story writers. I even read them myself once in a while. Well laughs. Well that is encouraging. Well what? To find that you can not only read but laugh. Okay. Then just what is the difficulty lieutenant? I don't like to see people tried in the newspapers. I have no intention of trying this girl. What's her name? Clair Ogleby. I have no intention of trying her. All I want to do is present the facts. Tell the story. Uh huh. Well I guess you want to see it don't you. Among other things yes. Unless of course you have something better to do. Oh no no. You're my assignment from now on. I'm in the dog house. Well I can think of less appropriate places. Okay. Why? This is a big case. National sensations, special prosecutors, hullabaloo in the papers, special feature writers like you. Yes. And I'm in a minority of one around here. So nobody likes me. Stop being cryptic lieutenant. Um what are you driving at? They got a big thing on their hands and they want a conviction. I don't agree. About what? About the girl. You see I think she's innocent. That was interesting. The girl was even more interesting. She was about 25 a pretty girl and she was lying on her bunk in the cell staring up at the one dim light in the ceiling. She didn't even look around when I came in. This is Miss Emily Carlisle the writer, Claire. She wants to talk to you. I'll be back after a while Miss Carlisle. Leave me alone. I can't, Claire. I have a job to do. That makes you different I suppose. No, but I still have a job to do. That's what they all say. They've got a job to do. On me. Who's trying to do a job on you, Claire? A lot of smart people who make their living at it, like you. You mean that they're trying to say that you killed him and you didn't? I loved him, you fool. Why would I kill him? Why would I kill him? Why did you confess to killing him? He was dead, wasn't he? What difference did it make? That's what they wanted me to say, so what difference did it make? Then you didn't kill him. All right, I killed him. That's what you want me to say too. All right, I killed him. I don't want you to say anything, dear. I just want to know what happened. He was killed, murdered. That's what happened. They say you quarreled with him. I dug my nails into him. I wanted to hurt him. I was blood on my dress, and so I burned it, and they found that. Then when I heard what had happened, I ran away, and they found me. Oh, they've got everything fixed just fine. I had a job to do, that's all, and they did it. And as soon as they get it over with, the better, and then everybody will be happy. Maybe even me. Why did you quarrel with him? Have you ever been in love with some man, and then one fine day you found out you were just the last of a long list of other women? Have you? Have you? Yes. As a matter of fact, I have. Then you know why I quarreled with him. Yes. All right, then, and I'll tell you something else, too. I didn't kill him, but now I wish I had. Do you hear me? I wish I had! I suppose she told you she killed him, and you believed it. First she said she had killed him, and then she said she hadn't. You didn't answer the second part. She indicated you have certain evidence. Okay, come in here. The DA's got the original sample, but the picture should give you a rough idea. Oh, what's that? A piece of a dress that was found under the bed. They match it to the dress she burned, more or less. And what's that plaster thing? Cast of tire marks. Do you read Dick Tracy? Oh, I've used plaster cast of tire marks, myself and my books. But they look a little vague. They are. You know something, Lieutenant, I'm inclined to agree with you. About what? About the girl. I think she is innocent. So you can write it from a hood den at angle, huh? Okay, Lieutenant, if you please, and a little more attention to detail, by the way, why is everyone so anxious to believe this particular girl did it? Because they think they can make it stick. Why look further? Because it's good for them. They make their reputations that way, just like your boss makes circulation. Let's face it, you and I know what Dr. Winter was like. There must be a dozen girls in this town who have just as much reason for killing him as this one. What I said. As for the confession, she's obviously an hysteric. And it's for this stuff. I don't know much about tires, but this dress pattern is as common as a cotton handkerchief. There must be 50 of them within a mile of where we're standing right now. Same goes for the tires, I've told them all. Then there must be something wrong with your method, Lieutenant. Now, what do we deduce from all this? I'll tell you what I deduce. What? As a woman who's killed a man in this town. A murderous. A murderous that's still on the loose. For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you glorious wants and then murdered by the book. Roma Wines' presentation tonight in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills. Suspense. Suspense, Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills, is presented by Roma. That's R-O-M-A. Roma Wines. Those better tasting wines from the world's largest reserves of fine wines. Vacation time is in full swing and that means more time for baseball, tennis, golf, fishing, gardening. Whatever form of recreation you choose, here's a delightful way to cool off and refresh yourself. Just serve a tall, cool Roma wine and soda. Half-filled glasses with robust Roma California burgundy, delicate Roma sauté or any Roma wine. Fill up with ice and soda, sweetened to taste, then sip and be surprised. You'll agree with everybody that refreshingly delicious Roma wine and soda really is a treat that beats the heat. Treat your family to Roma wine and soda tomorrow. Serve Roma wine and soda whenever guests drop in and all some along. And for better taste, be sure you use America's favorite wine, Roma wine. R-O-M-A. Roma wine. And now Roma wines bring back to our New York soundstage Gloria Swanson as Emily Carlisle in Murder by the Book, a tale well-calculated to keep you in suspense. At first I was quite excited about the whole thing, about covering a murder case, I mean. It was good for me. It took my mind off myself. The book I should have been finishing and couldn't. And poor Ned, being drowned last summer, that had been more of a strain than I even realized. I knew that now. Not that I was terribly fond of Ned, but we had been as close as we ever were. Not just as close perhaps, but it had been a shock. That's why I'd been going to Dr. Winter myself. He'd as much as told me that the cells I had were a direct result of what happened to Ned. Oh, it shows you how tiny and yet how strange our little world can be. Here I was writing up the case of Dr. Winter's murder for the newspapers. Of course, right away I discovered that the evidence against the girl they were holding was all circumstantial. And Lieutenant Han got me prints of the pictures, the piece from the dress they said she was wearing, and a tire mark. And I went out to do a little checking of my own. First I went to Gorman's department store. Actually, it's the only real store for women's things in town. Well, well, well, Miss Conner, long time no see, eh? What can I do for you? If you could identify a dress for me, a certain dress. A dress? Why, sure. What kind of a dress do you have in mind? No, I don't want to buy one. I just want to find out about one. A particular dress, this dress. That this picture was taken of? That's only a piece of it, of course. Oh, oh, oh, that. Yes, you've sold quite a few of them, haven't you? Say, I hear you're going to write up this winter case for the papers. That right, Miss Conner? Oh, yes, I am. As a matter of fact, at this dress... Oh, I know this dress all right. We had him last spring. Sold like hotcakes for a dozen of them. Did you keep any records of who sold them, whom you sold them to? Can I get a list? No, no, no complete record. Mostly cash sales, you know. Made up of a partialist. That's all a partialist. Well, that's what I want. That's better than nothing. Going into competition with the police department now, eh? No, I'm trying to help them, Mr. Gorman. You give me... You'd better see them about that yourself then. Lieutenant Han gave him the list three weeks ago. You'd better see him. Oh, I didn't know he had one. He never told me. Cops don't always tell everything they know, eh? You go see Lieutenant Han. He's the man you are to see, Lieutenant Han. I felt a little silly. Why hadn't he told me? But then, of course, I'd never asked you. The big stop was Morton's big service station on the corner of northern Maine. They did practically all the tire business in town. How do, Miss Carlisle? Fill it up? Well, yes, I guess so. But I want to ask you something. Sure, Miss Carlisle. What is it? Well, you see this thing? It's the imprint of an auto tire. Oh, from the winter case, eh? The cops was already in here. I heard you was working on the case, Miss Carlisle. In a way. And I was trying to find out about this tire. Well, that tire, ma'am, that's a 616 Goodstone. Pretty new, too. You can see from this middle tread here. I don't see how anybody can prove much by this here. Do you sell many of these? Uh, what did you call them? 616 Goodstone. Oh, yeah, plenty. And that's what I mean. I don't see how you can prove much without that tire. You find them on all kind of cars. I know, but... Well, look here. You got them on your own, Miss Carlisle. Same kind. 616 Goodstone. Almost new, too. You see what I mean? Oh, yes, uh, I see. Yeah, plenty of them kind of tires around. Do you want that tank of gas now, Miss Carlisle? No. No. Thank you. Never mind. Funny how you never notice things like tires if you're a woman anyway. Let it always handle things like that. And then afterwards, Cora had done it. Cora. And of course, as a boy had said, there were hundreds of tires like it. Hundreds. Cora wasn't home yet, and I wandered around the house and tried to think, but I didn't get very far. I was afraid of one of my headaches was coming on. I decided to try and write my first article. When I sat down at the typewriter, I remembered I hadn't put the cover over it last time, and oh, it was all dusty. I went to the room closet and rummaged around in the basket and kept there for old rags. I just started to dust off the typewriter, and I noticed it. The rag I held in my hand. It wasn't just an ordinary rag. It was a piece of a dress. And it wasn't just an ordinary dress. It had a cute little red and white print pattern. The kind of the dress the police said was worn by the woman who had murdered Mr. and Dr. Winter. It was then I heard Cora coming in. I think they asked us to rag in my hand into the desk. Mother, you're home. Hello, darling. Been shopping? A few odds and ends. What have you been doing? Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Cora, what about the car? What we need new tires pretty soon? Right now I had new ones put on all around only a while ago, you remember? I had forgotten. When was that? Oh, six weeks ago, anyway. Then it was before? Before what? The murder. Well, you stop it. Do you have to go through with this thing, Mother? It's better for me to write it than some stranger, don't you? If you wish. But it's so different from what happened in the story. For instance, I can't even remember what we were doing the night. The night it happened. Can you? We were home. Are you sure? Don't you remember? Isn't it silly? You had one of your headaches. I was in my room. You were in yours. Then I was. I sleep all evening. You were? But you don't know. You weren't with me. What a pity. I'll stop. Oh, Cora. Yes? Whatever happened to that old print dress? It was yours, I think. What print dress? You know, with a red and white flower print. You did have one like that, didn't you? I haven't seen it for quite a while. But it couldn't just have disappeared. The last time I saw it, you had it. Don't you remember? No. Would this be it, Cora? Oh. So this has all been a cross-examination, has it? There were certain things I had to know, Cora. Well, I won't stand for it. Do you hear? You can do anything you like about yourself, but I won't let you drag me into it. I won't. You were in love with him, too, weren't you, Cora? When I woke up, the sun was shining, and I was lying on the bed in Cora's room, and Cora was gone. I made some coffee, and then I went down to see Lieutenant Harmon. What's the matter, Miss Carlyle? You look sort of played out. I had rather rest this night. I've been thinking the thing over, Lieutenant. I've been thinking about a lot of things. Yes, you've been doing a little checking up by here. Yes, Lieutenant. Why didn't you tell me you had that list about the dresses? Was it because you knew that someone in my house had bought one of those dresses? Speaking of your stepdaughter, Cora Wales. Yes. We didn't know about it, of course, but we knew the same thing about a couple of dozen other women. It didn't make much difference. Got any new ideas? Lieutenant, I've been writing a new book or trying to about a murder. A woman who killed her husband. I didn't know how to finish it, but now... Look, it's all sort of mixed up in my mind, but you know the old theory about a murder will always return to the scene of the crime. I don't get it. I know. If someone killed because a person they killed knew something, they'd have to kill anyone else who knew that same thing. Wouldn't they? You still going on the theory the Ogilvy girl's innocent? I know she's innocent. You know. That's pretty strong talk, Miss Carlyle. Well, call it woman's intuition. Call it whatever you like, but I just know that there's someone... Look, Miss Carlyle, maybe I had you wrong yesterday. I can see you're not kidding about this thing. I'm not talking about now, but if you really got something, you better tell Papa. No. No. You say you think somebody's going to come back to the scene of the crime? I don't know. I don't know what I think. I just know... Look, Miss Carlyle, I don't like it. You're upset. You're frightened. I want to help you. No. No. I'll have to do this my own way. Do what? I don't know. I can't very well use a rubber hose to get it out of you, but do as part of my job. What? What's part of your job? To see that nobody else gets killed around here, including you. I could feel a headache coming on as I left his office. I almost ran to my car. All I could think of was that I had to get home before it happened, but it was coming over me awfully fast, faster than it ever had before. The house was empty. I threw myself on the couch and pressed my hands over my eyes. The pain was horrible, horrible. And then suddenly I had the feeling that I wasn't alone, that someone was standing there, standing over me, someone I couldn't see, someone who was crushing my brain, squeezing my temples on a kind of terrible, invisible vice, someone who was trying to kill me. Having a dream, another of those horrible dreams, I was dreaming that I had gone upstairs to Kara's room and she was there packing the things. She saved TV, or heavy. I clipped into the room very awfully. I had a heavy poker or something in my hand. I clipped it very softly behind her. I raised the poker and then she ran around. She saw me. You knew it wasn't an accident, didn't you? You knew you didn't. You didn't just drown. You knew I killed your father. I pushed him and when I went to Dr. Winter, he found out too. Something buried in my subconscious, he said, and he made me tell him. He told you all that, Cindy. So now I'm going to have to kill you too, Kara. I hear the doctors keep talking about schizophrenia. That's a double personality, you know. They seem to think I did all those things without even knowing it. Drowning Ned. Trying to kill Kara. That's what the cells were, they say. The other personality. Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. But I wish I could talk to Dr. Winter. I went to him first about the cells. He said he could cure me if I told him the truth. Only of course I can't talk to him now. He's dead. I killed him. In just a moment, we will hear from Gloria Swanson, tonight's star of Suspense. Presented by Roma. That's R-O-M-A. Roma wines. America's largest selling wines. Yes, more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wines. That's because Roma wines taste better. Taste better because Roma selects and presses only the choicest California grapes. Then these natural juices are guided unhurriedly by Roma master vintners and wine making resources unmatched in America to full taste richness. These Roma wines are placed with mellow Roma wines of years before. And from these, the world's greatest wine reserves, Roma later selects for your pleasure. Treat your family and guests to the better taste of Roma California wines. For everyday use or for friendly entertaining, serve amber Roma sherry, ruby Roma port, or golden Roma muscatel. Roma adds so much to your pleasure, yet now costs so little that you will want to keep a supply of better tasting Roma wines on hand. Remember to ask for Roma wines. America's largest selling wines. This was a great pleasure to appear on tonight's broadcast of suspense. Next week, suspense will originate from Hollywood, when Roma wines will bring you Vincent Price. Good night. Tonight's suspense play was written by Robert L. Richards. Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Mr. Vincent Price as star of Suspense. Produced fortunately by William Spear. This is CBS for Columbia Broadcasting