 The weird circle. In this cave, by the restless sea, we are met to call from out the past, stories, strange and weird. Bellkeeper, hold the bell, so all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle. Come by, speak again the immortal tale, a terribly strange bed. Jack Westcott was the best friend I ever had. He was the gayest of people. That was until we left America. I was writing a book about historic murder cases and had come to Paris to do some research work. Jack was fascinated with my work, strangely fascinated, almost horribly so. He enjoyed finding twisted minds and probing them. His hunger for crime was bound to end in tragedy. On the last evening of our visit in Paris, we were walking on the left bank of the same river when Jack noticed a crowd gathered about our old friend, the head of the Paris police force, Inspector Duvall. I was in hurry to return to the hotel to finish writing my murder manuscript. The deadline was in the morning, but Jack insisted. What's the excitement all about, Duvall? Well, hello, Mr. Westcott. Still looking for ancient murders, Mr. Manning? Not tonight, Duvall. Angel or otherwise. Take a round, Mr. Manning. I'll show you a murder, the likes of which you've never seen before. OK, boys, drag it out of the river. What is it, Inspector? A corpse, Mr. Westcott. A corpse that's been squashed thin as a piece of paper. Let's see it. What do you mean, thin as a piece of paper? Bring it over here, boys. Right under the gas light. Horrible looking thing, isn't it? Horrible and fascinating. It looks like it got squeezed in a giant press. We've had an epidemic of these corpses lately. Any idea who's doing it? Not even a vague notion, Mr. Manning. Hey. Hey, you. You, the fat man. You mean me, Inspector? Yes, I mean you, fat man. How come you're always around when we pull a corpse out of the river? Why? I enjoy murder. You enjoy it? You enjoy murder? It appeals to my sense of the artistic. Oh, it does. Well, there's something fascinating about these bodies. Something for a connoisseur alone to appreciate. The symmetry of the remains. The beautifully flawless flatness of the corpse. The hollow in the stomach. Lying in this puddle of gas light, this mass of flesh and bones makes a nice picture. I should enjoy painting this if I could paint. I know what you mean, fat man. But wouldn't you prefer probing the mind of a man who conceived this crime? A man's mind is his secret self. Well, enjoy the ghastly spectacle, my friend. Enjoy it. Good evening, gentlemen. All right, men. Take the body down to the morgue and try and find out who it is. Come on, Burke. I'd like to follow that fat man. In Heaven's name, why? He's nothing but a psychopathic case. I want to satisfy a hunch. Well, if you're such a good detective, why don't you join Scotland Yard? Well, I might, Burke. I might at that. Now, where the devil is that gross piece of flesh disappeared to now? He was right in front of us until we turned this corner. We've lost him, Jack. And I don't wonder. We've passed through every side street in the whole city. If you ask me, he knows he was being followed. Good. If he knows, he'll show his hands sooner. Now, the only place he could have gone around here is into the back door of this house. I wonder what house this is. It's a gloomy dump. Let's go back to the hotel, Jack. I've got to finish that manuscript tonight. It's like a public bar to me. The Labelle Tavern. Are you coming with me, Burke, or are you going home? I'm with you, old boy. I brought you to Paris. And by heaven, I'm going to return you to America. Now, this must be the doorbell. Here goes. And, Burke, no matter what I do tonight, don't worry. Come in, my gentlemen. Come in. You were perfectly right, Fat Man. Those two Americans did follow you. They're sitting at the bar inside. The Americans value their lives so slightly. Amazing, isn't it, Cecilia? Their lives. Our lives. They might be cops. I don't want to get in my neck and un-noose. To be quite candid, I am not interested in your neck. You're so impatient and impatient as an evil ascribed to the very young. It might be a pity if you are not allowed time to cure yourself of that evil. Don't threaten me of that pig. I'd hope to slap some sense into that lovely but empty head. Obviously, my stupid pigeon, those two Americans are wealthy. They would enjoy our roulette table. If you would show them to it, remember, I'll talk to the croupier, and he will take care of the wheel of fate. If you don't do your part well, you'll face a lifetime in jail. What happens if they get wise? Room 16? But, of course. Let me... I knew you'd understand. Yeah, I understand. There's something so gay about Americans, I always say. I hope you boys don't mind if I stick around. Well, Miss, not at all, Miss. Not at all. You can call me Cecilia. How about another drink? That's fine. Three more of the same, bartender? What do you do for a living, Cecilia? Oh, I'm a model in a dress shop. I don't believe you, Cecilia. Jack, stop ribbing the girls. She's a good kid. I'm on the level. I'm interested in her. Here's the drinks. Thanks. Why do I interest you? Well, because you're fairly easy to figure out. Am I? Why? You really want me to tell you? Sure, I do. Well, here's mud in your eye. You say you're too shady. Oh, oh. Potent stuff, Jack. Potent stuff tastes like cyanide. Well, Cecilia, I'd say you're a poor girl who lives in the slums. But you're prettier than anybody in your entire neighborhood. Well, let's see. And then you must admit a man. What of it? No, no, saint. You promised you a lot of do-debs, and suddenly you found you'd commit your first crime. Let's say murder. What'd she do? Set her mother on fire? Well, for that I said three more drinks. Bartender, three more. Well, now let's say it really was murder. The second murder wasn't so hard. And the third was easy, wasn't it? I never had nothing to do with a murder. Well, for the sake of argument, let's say you have. But inside of you all the time is this wanting to be liked, wanting to be on the level. But you're so called friends, they don't trust you, Cecilia. Someday they'll double-cross you. Here are the drinks. Thank you. Nobody will ever double-cross me. Well, here's mud and you're right. Drink up, boys. Hmm. Is there anything else to do around here? You seen the gambling rooms? Gambling rooms? Ah, that's right. Who runs those gambling rooms, Cecilia? I don't know. One of your friends? A fat man perhaps with a long nose? I don't know the owner. Gosh, you're real nine. Is there a fat man in the back room now? Probably. Gambels here a lot. Do you really want to play? Sure. Well, come on, Jack. We'll see who's right. My books are your instincts. Number 21 wins. Jack, the fat man's in the corner of the room. Yeah, so on, Burke. And he saw you all, boy. I don't think he didn't. Come on, boys, let's play. Money, money, money, pleasure, but, gentlemen. They'll make some room for us over here. Come on. Hello, Cecilia. Hello, Monty Laurier. You playing again? I thought you lost every cent you owned last night. A desperate man finds desperate ways to raise money. Even murder, eh? You heard about it. Perhaps. And perhaps not. I'd like you to meet some new friends of mine, Monty. This is Jack Westcott and Burke Manning. Monty Laurier. How do you do? Money, money, money, gentlemen, play your bets. I bet 30 francs on odd. I bet 100 francs on number 13. Good boy, Jack. The play is dead. Down and on, the little ball goes where she stops. Nobody knows. Hey, Frank, don't feel a little dizzy. You had too much to drink, pal, and all the drinks were strong. Number 13 wins. What do I want? Good for you, American lucky for you. I won the first time I ever played here, but never again. Money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money. That was the first time Jack won in that incredible evening. But as the ball spun, his winnings increased. The table seemed to have gone crazy. Jack became gambling drunk. The croupier seemed desperate as that wheel spun round and round, each time increasing Jack's winnings. The room was tens of excitement. And even the little thin loser, Laurier, had seen surprise. Missile, Westcott, your luck is phenomenal. You've won 30 times, 30 times. Jack, you've won a fortune, man. Stop now before it's too late. Leave him alone, Burke. Let him play if he wants to. Sure, let me play if I want to. I want to break the bank. Careful, Missile. Let me warn you. Careful. Jack, it's almost midnight, and I've got a lot of work to do tonight. Please, let's go and remember the fat man. The fat man be hanged. Here, Jack, have another drink. Thanks, Missile. Jack, be sensible. Ah, stop being an old Andy, Burke. I'll see you later at the hotel. Make the book have a bloody ending. I'm in the mood for a good murder tonight. Remember, Jack, I warned you. Goodbye. Money, money, money, gentlemen. Place your bets. I, uh... I told the croupier you wanted to see him back here, fat man, but it... Wasn't the croupier's fault the American broke the bank? That is for me to decide. Where is the American now? Outside. Buy him drinks for the house. Good. Good. That ought to keep him busy. You... you called for me, Missile? Yes, yes, I did. I'll need you to, Cecilia. Shut the door. I don't like to frighten our patrons. I'm... I'm sorry about the wheel, Missile, but... It was broken, and I... I couldn't control it. That is unfortunate for you. What are you going to do, Missile? Come here. Don't put your fat hands on me, fat man. Let me... Don't fight the fat man. You can't move, can you, croupier? Because if you move my arm, we'll break your neck. Call my name, Cecilia. I might need a little aid with the stupid fool. What are you going to do, fat man? Have his brains pressed out of his body in room 16. His mind is no good where it is now. No, Missile. Please, Missile. Not room 16. What's that? What was that, Monsieur Laureate? We'll probably be lucky if we don't ask questions. I want another drink. Jack, listen to me. Put on your hat and coat and leave this place. You're being watched all the time. Who's watching me? Hello, Jack. Oh, have a drink. No, Jack. You've had enough to drink. Leave this place right away. She's right, Jack. You must leave. I'll see you home personally. Come on, then. Oh, I know you don't, Monty Laureate. I know your tricks. The last man you saw home was found with a dagger in his breast. How come you're so interested in me, Cecilia? Because you're the first person who ever treated me decent. Oh, please go home. Sooner or later, every woman develops a mother complex over me. Now, I don't want to be a mother. Who is trying to mother you, my friend? Oh, hello, fat man. Cecilia's. Oh, she's developed a rather latent maternal instinct. I think a maternal instinct is out of place tonight. After all, tonight's a night for celebration. Yeah, the fat man's right. Celebration. Bartender, open a bottle of champagne. Bartender, a champagne. A champagne for Monsieur Wescott. Won't you join us, Cecilia? Yeah. Of course I will. Here is the champagne, Monsieur. Won't you drink with us, Monsieur Laureate? No, thank you, fat man. I don't think so. I never enjoyed toasting to death. Death? Open the bottle, bartender. Good night, Jack, and good luck. Good night. Good night, good night, good night, good night, good night. Here's the handkerchief, fat man. Oh, Jack, your money is all tied safely in your handkerchief. Thank you, Frank. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, well, I put the handkerchief. It would be wisest to tie it to your belt. I feel dizzy, fat man. Oh, you need a cup of good hot coffee. That will straighten you right out. Cecilia, go in the kitchen and fix our friend a cup of coffee. But I... I really... Don't tell me, my little pigeon, that your hearing is failing you? I'll get it right away. I'm glad we're alone, fat man. I want a chance to talk to you. Talk away, Jack. Tell me confidentially. Why do you enjoy seeing a mutilated body dragged out of the river? There's beauty in death. In the act of death or in the recovery of a body after life is lifted? In both. Then do you enjoy committing a crime? Perhaps. Perhaps it would be pleasant to watch a man die. Slowly. Very slowly. In order to see life leave the body. Say that you and I watched a murder by pressure. What would happen? I'm interested, fat man. What would happen? The face is the first part affected. It would turn red. And the victim would probably feel hot blood pounding in his brain. Pounding like steel hammers. Then his eyes would feel sore as if the fluid creating sight were ebbing. Slowly away. That would be painful. Painful, but glorious. His face would discolor. The pressure on his chest would be so great he... He'd try to scream, cry out, but he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to move. Not a limb. Not a muscle. He'd be paralyzed. I'd see to that. And in that moment all the horror that is in man's mind would be indelibly imprinted on the brain until a sudden crushing noise would blot out thought. And what would that crushing noise be? The pulverizing of the human bone. Here's the coffee, fat man. Ah, let me see it. Hmm. Tastes all right. Here you are, Jack. This will fix you. I... No, I don't think I want any. If you'll pardon me, I... Oh, so dizzy. So frightfully dizzy. Oh, of course you are. Here, Jack. Drink it. Drink it, my friend. My good, good friend. If you don't want to drink it, Jack, don't, don't. Open your mouth, my friend. It will sober you very quickly. No, I... Open your mouth. No. There. Now, how do you feel? I... I'm sick. I'm sick. It's dope, isn't it? It's dope. Let me... No. Oh. Our friend, Jack, is asleep, Cecilia. Call the bartender. I think our friend will spend the night with us in room 16. I've been looking all over Paris for you, monsieur. You've been looking for me? Yes, I've called every hotel in the city trying to find you. I know you don't remember me, but I met you earlier this evening at the La Belle Tavern. My name's L'Oriotte of the Paris Police Force. Yes, yes, of course. I want you to come in. Where's Monsieur Wescott? I had to leave him at the tavern. He wouldn't listen to me. You see, monsieur, I've been assigned to watch that tavern. It's been under suspicion for several weeks. Look, great Scott, man. Where's Jack now? At the tavern. He's carrying an enormous amount of money on his person. I know the fat man will never allow him to leave with that money. Why don't you raid the tavern? Unfortunately, we can't. We have no proof. As a matter of fact, they might not harm at all. But just in case, I thought it might be a wise idea for you to go down there. You can go to the door and ask for... What do you want? You're the bartender, aren't you? I am not Napoleon's grandma. What do you want? My friend, Jack Wescott, hasn't come back to the hotel as yet. We've been waiting for him, and I thought that he probably decides to spend the night here at your place. Your friend is not here. Go home, American. Before you get yourself in more trouble than you can handle. Who was it? The other American, asking about his friend. Where are you going? Upstairs. To take Mr. Wescott a candle, like the fat man told me. Be sure the fat man told you, or else... I'm sure. Very sure. Jack. Jack, I... I brought you a candle. Are you asleep? Wake up, Jack, please wake up. Please. Maybe if I shake him. Wake up. I hate to slap you, but your life depends on it. Oh, what is it? Oh, wake up, wake up. Jack. Jack, clearly he's still asleep. Come, Cecilia. Let our friend sleep. I'm so sick. So dizzy and sick. Why didn't she let me sleep? I feel paralyzed. More of a tall. Just as if I'm drunk. Maybe if I concentrate on the room, I'll go to sleep. Funny that a French gambling house should have a bedroom. What is an old English four-posted bed doing in a French room anyway? What a heavy canopy over my head. So solid-looking. Almost as if it were made of steel. I must concentrate on something. The picture above my head. It's just even with the canopy. Evil-looking span. With five feathers in his head. Look. The eyes moved. I'm certain of it. The eyes moved. I was sure there were five feathers. Now there are only four feathers. Three feathers. I wonder who's outside my door. Try to sleep. No. Now look at the picture. That has disappeared. I can barely even see the face. The canopy is being lowered on me. That's what it is. The canopy. It can't move. The paper thing corpse. Oh, I gotta move it. It's coming closer. Closer. Closer. Who'd have squashed me? Oh, I must move. Can't. It's almost done. I can't wait down. Just to crawl out a bit. If I get a coat, I crawl out of here. I... I can't sleep with that horrible connection. I'm not a god here. The window. Open the window slowly. I'll crawl to the window. I can push the window open slowly. Very slowly. Climb down on him by now. Listen to me, men. Push the window open. Oh, it's stuck. Be sure and deliver the money back to me. Oh, there. I'm not opening it wide enough to crawl through. You can raise the canopy now. Excellent, gentlemen. Help! Help somebody! Help me! Get down to the window! That didn't work the first time, Mr. Westcatchel. I've raised the means of making it work the second. Perhaps it would be more pleasant to watch light ebb out in front of me. No, no. Place him carefully on the bed. Let me go. Let me go. Good. This ought to prove most enjoyable, Mr. Westcatchel. It's a pity you haven't my detached viewpoint. Let me go. Put him in. Then lower the canopy. No! No! No! Ben, quick! Check, check, boy, here. Hold on to me. I'll drag you out. Don't you put your hands on me, Larry? Watch him, then. Now, take care of the bottom. I'm all right, quick. Don't worry about me. I'm Cecilia. I'll help her. Let me go, Cecilia. Don't push me! Inspector Devile, that's the story. Burke were waiting outside all the time. They saw me at the window and Cecilia let them in. Glowshave, eh? A lucky escape. Gloria and I have pulled him out of the bed just in time. And Cecilia pushed the fat man under the canopy as it closed down. Must have been a horrible sight, Burke. Well, what about Cecilia, Inspector? What would they do to her? Unfortunately, the police can't find her. And I've instructed them not to look too hard. In the years of the past, we have heard the story of a terribly strange bed. The Elkeaper told the...