 Crime Classics brought to you by Plymouth with a reminder that tomorrow is the day for your first look at the big, bright, beautiful new 54 Plymouth on display tomorrow. Good evening. I am Thomas Highland with another true story of crime. Listen. That was a cake baker breaking an egg and separating it. The white here, the yolk here. That was the last of 12 eggs to be separated. Next step in the recipe, beat the whites. Our cake baker is French and a good baker too, so of course the cake will be of a lightness and a delicacy that a cake that kisses back. Pour in the sugar, the flour, and now the ingredient that makes this cake different from all other cakes. You didn't hear anything because it was only a smidgen, and smidgens don't make any more noise, not even a smidgen of arsenic, which that was. The noise comes later. So tonight, my report to you on the seven-layered arsenic cake of Madame LaFage. Crime Classics, a new series of true crime stories taken from the records and newspapers of every land from every time. Your host each week, Mr. Thomas Highland, connoisseur of crime, student of violence, and teller of murders. First, a message for all of you. This is the week, tomorrow's the day. The day the great new 54 high-style Plymouth comes to town. And the $25,000 contest with a chance for you to win a brand new 54 Plymouth or one of hundreds of cash prizes. You'll love the new 54 Plymouth. It's big, bright, beautiful, longer this year with a low, wide, sleek silhouette. And inside, a Plymouth brings to the low price field the luxury of high-style interiors with an exciting array of new fabrics and color combinations for you to choose from. Power steering is available in the new 54 Plymouth. Full-time power steering to help you every mile you drive. And you like the way it makes parking in tight places a cinch because it does 80% of the work for you. Three new Plymouth lines this year too. New Plaza, new Savoy, new Belvedere. Three separate lines and in every line a wide selection of body styles and color combinations to choose from. The 54 Plymouth has 64 new features and advancements. Yes, it's 64 for 54. And tomorrow's your day for a first-hand look at this dramatic new car. Tomorrow starts the Big Plymouth Contest too, so be sure to get your entry blank from your Plymouth dealer when you go in to see the big, bright, beautiful new 54 Plymouth tomorrow. And now once again, Mr. Thomas Highland and his report on the seven-layered arsenic cake of Madame LeFarge. As the fourth decade of the 19th century was closing, Louis Philippe was on the throne. It was late summer of 1839, a season of unrest in Paris. In the dark alleys and dank cellars, a populace seathed and grumbled and wrote slogans in chalk on the cobblestones. Phrases such as Elan, Abar, Bonavent, or Guillotine, which meant that in this stage people were either for things or against things or wanted them up or down or forward or Guillotine. This was in the city, but a few kilometers away in the country in Glongier, it was peaceful. Summer was dying gently and the folk took their cue from nature. I'm quite sure she will be eminently satisfactory, Madame. Her name is Marie Fortunet Capello. It is music, no? Marie Fortunet Capello. Is she rich? She has 25,000 flanks in her own name. Marie Fortunet Capello. She will make a most excellent daughter-in-law to you, Madame. I personally will guarantee it. I only meant that she is of quality. I personally knew her father, an artilleryman to Napoleon, who froze to his cannon outside of Moscow. Commendable. So, you see, you have come to the correct marriage broker. Madame. Yes? Your son Charles, he has been apprised of the arrangement you are negotiating for him. 25,000 francs. Yes, and her own trousseau. He has been apprised. Go to him then and tell him he is most fortunate. His beloved is not only of wealth, but of beauty. We are in agreement, Madame. Uh, she is in good health. Excellent. She has never been married before? Never. Then we are in agreement. Therefore, if you please... Ah, 10% of 25,000 francs. 25,000 francs. Ah, here. 3,000 francs. And 500 francs change. Madame. Yes? Your son, your fortunate son Charles. Yes? He still spends his time at the blast furnace. I cannot get him interested in anything else. Strange. I only say this because I recall in my youth there were other things to do. Strolling, picnics in the boire. My son Charles is a young man who likes to spend his time at the blast furnace. To each his own. Eh, Madame? Goodbye, Madame. Charles Lafarge was one of those rare individuals who was just a natural born smelter. An unsung bessemer as it were. In his early youth he evinced a healthy interest in iron things and tongs and anvils and blast furnaces. His father had died while fishing for bloaters in the sand. This when Charles was three years old. His mother, a good woman, was quick to recognize her son's natural bent and indulged his talents. As a matter of fact, she invested nearly all her savings in a blast furnace and an iron-mongry business for her son. Charles spent most of his waking hours in the shop. Shaping things on the anvil. Cooling metal, or what he liked best to do. Smelting. He was doing that the day his mother broke the news to him. Her name is Marie Fortuna Capello. And he was six feet four inches tall. What of her? You will marry her. Why? All young men get married. You'll have a wife now, son. Yes, Mama. Come here to me closer. I want to look at you. At what do you look, Mama? Nothing. You'd better get cleaned up. And he did. Charles got cleaned up. He bathed, shaved and got into the clothes of a gentleman of the country. He was introduced to his fiance, made guttural noises of approval and in a few hours they were married. The ceremony took place in the empty and dismal halls of the Lafarge castle. In attendance were Mama Lafarge and one Dennis Barbier. A Dennis it should be mentioned was an employee and bosom friend to Charles. And it must be assumed that Dennis was happy for his friend for having brought such a winsome and lovely creature into an abode usually a reek with odors of sulfur and slag. At the end of the ceremony, Dennis offered his arm to Mama and they left. Then this is what happened to the newlyweds. Frightens? Please. Frightens? How? The terrible heat of it. Well, it is a fire, it is hot. How frightens? Please. Look to me. Yes. This bar, this iron bar. You see? You see a bending. Why did you not look? I do not know. My mama said to me you would do what I say you do. I will try. Well, then look to me. Yes. This metal piece, this round metal piece, you see? Yes. For you. What? For you. I don't. To lock about you if you will run away from me. A shackle? Do not run away from me. Oh, don't touch me. Husband to you. It is not your husband, Madame. It is I. It is Dennis. It is Dennis. Dennis. What do you want? Your husband sent me to speak with you. May I come in? Your husband said I was to enter your room and to speak with you. Speak to me of what? Madame, how long has it been since you've been here in the Chateau? You know it four months more. Such joy you have brought to all of us. We have not seen much of you since you've locked yourself in your room for the most part, but if this makes you happy, all of us are happy. Say what you wish to say and get out. I bring sad news. What? Your husband has gone to Paris alone. I will turn my back while you weep. You finish? Madame, you look so radiant after a good cry. When did he go? This morning. Oh. He has a plan for a blast furnace, a new principle. My husband. He was introduced to pencil and paper just last week and already he has the theory for a new furnace. Remarkable, is it not? I wish him well. He asked me shy, man, that he is to say another thing. The 25,000 franc, which is banked in your name, he wishes it. Where are you, Madame? Poor Madame. Where are you, Madame? I would give it to him. Just a while ago, below at the furnace, he fashioned a thing. Oh, it's diabolical. The equipment your husband can make. Before he left, he lifted it up with both hands and said, just my wife's size. And if I give it to him? He will have compassion for you. He says only that. He will honor your desire to remain alone. Very well. Oh, you are a good wife. Oh, a word. Yes. I too have compassion for you. You must understand that. Compassion? Why? Your husband is a brute. He is a brute. He is also an imbecile. Yes. He is better off if he is dead. Yes. What? I said yes. He is better off if he is dead. Of course he is. Madame? Madame, I take your leave. Madame? Madame Lafarge, open quickly. Open. Monsieur Denis. Madame? What are you doing in my chambers? A terrible thing, so terrible. What are you talking about? What she has said. Who? The wife of your son. She said she... What? What is it? That she wished your son dead. I'm sure every wife in the world has wished her husband dead at one time or another. But the way it was said. How? With the kind of madness, with the curling of the lips, the clawing of the hand, with hate, with purpose. I wish my husband dead, she said. The heavens give me strength to make it so, she said. No. Yes. This manter kept up a few moments more. Then Mama became firmly convinced that she had a potential murderous for a daughter-in-law. Denis, on the other hand, went to the pharmacy and bought some arsenic. You are listening to crime classics and your host, Mr. Thomas Highland. How would you like to win a smart new 54 Plymouth convertible? Well, you couldn't get one for doing less. So be sure to enter the exciting Plymouth contest that starts tomorrow. $25,000 worth of prizes in all. Six sleek new 54 Plymouths to be given away and hundreds of cash prizes. How do you enter? Easy. Tomorrow, visit any Plymouth dealer and see the exciting new 54 Plymouth. Look it over. Sit in it. Ask questions. Then on an entry blank, your Plymouth dealer will give you just telling 50 words or less what you like most about the new 54 High Style Plymouth. And with 64 new features and advancements to choose from, there's plenty to write about. For instance, find out about Plymouth's new High Drive, newest, smoothest, no-shift drive in the low price field at only slight extra cost. So be sure to visit your Plymouth dealers tomorrow. See this big, bright, beautiful new 54 Plymouth and enter the contest. Don't put it off, either, because the contest closes Monday at midnight. Be sure to see the new 54 High Style Plymouth tomorrow. And now, once again, Thomas Hyland and the second act of Crime Classics. And his report to you on the seven-layered arsenic cake of Madame LeFarge. If you happen to pick up any standard almanac of France for the year 1800 and 40 and look up the climate for the first week of the year, you will read That's the French way for putting it, that there were blizzards and snows and hails and sleets and cold rains. As a matter of fact, this was one of the most miserable weeks in the annals of French weather. It is only legend, but it's worth mentioning, a freak storm up from the provinces caused a fall of frozen bloaters on the banks of the Seine. And northward, in the town of Glendier, the blizzards swirled bleakly around the parapets of the LeFarge castle. But on the main floor, in a kitchen lighted by a roaring blaze and warmed by a scene of domestic enterprise. No, you must take the dough and roll it. There. On the table of my aunt. Your aunt must have been too generous, Madame LeFarge, to have given you so much furniture. Need the dough, daughter-in-law. And now I must ask you a question. What is it? Do you hate my son, your husband? I will answer you. At times I do hate him. This I can understand. But do you wish him dead? Oh, no. Or perhaps in a burst of fury, yes, but... Oh, no, he is... he. Yes? Like a child. Like a small child. Dennis said... What? Nothing. Dennis is so quick to take offense. He cares so much for my son. Have you noticed? Truly a friend, truly. I feel for your son. Somehow, right now I feel for your son a warmth. So the baking of these cakes, which I will send to him in Paris. I am the most fortunate of mothers-in-law. I have resolved to give my marriage every chance to forget what has happened. Therefore, I will do as my husband bid. You will send him the money? All of it that is in my name. Twenty-five thousand francs? To the sous. I will send it along with the cake. Marie. Yes, dear mother-in-law? You are good. It is important that Charles build his blast furnace when that is done. Never mind. Here, will you put the dough in the pan? There should be enough to fill those five small ones. Gladly. I will wash my hands and write Charles a note. You will find a pen on the desk of my aunt. And when you are finished, we will put it with the cakes and the money. And Dennis will mail all of it. Let me kiss you. And they offered each other their cheeks. Then, Marie washed her hands and wrote her husband a tender note. Madame Lafarge put the cakes, five small ones, into the oven which her aunt had willed to her and dozed for a while in her aunt's favorite chair. Then the cakes were ready. They were iced and wrapped. Into the parcel was then inserted an envelope containing 25,000 francs and a few words of encouragement and endearment and new resolution. Then... Dennis? And Madame? Dennis, take this parcel and mail it to Monsieur Lafarge in Paris. It contains cakes and money, so mail it with this batch. And Dennis, my mother-in-law and I appreciate an opportunity to become more... Well... You may spend a few days where you wish, Dennis. Not here. Not here, Dennis. Not here, Dennis. Charles Lafarge got the parcel all right. It was mailed all right and he got it. But if you think for one moment that Dennis was there when it arrived, you're right. So, my dear friend Charles, I thought that you would be lonesome in Paris. Many of the young men get lonely in Paris. You are good. So, I thought to... Now, who could that be? Charles. Charles. Now, who could that be? May I see? I will see. Thank you. Package for you, Charles. A package? Yes, it is. May I open it for you? I will open it for you. Glandier, from your wife. What could it be? I feel kindly toward my wife. Perhaps... When this of the blast furnace is done, when I get back to Glandier, I will... A cake. I like cake. Such a large cake. And here, an envelope. Ooh, money. How much? Ah, 3,000 francs. I hoped she'd send it 25. Oh, there is a note here too. Read it to me. Dear Charles, keep warm. Here is cake. Here is money. Your wife Marie. Charles? Yes. May I cut a piece of cake for you? I will cut a piece of cake for you. Myself, I will eat none of it. My stomach is turning into a paunch. It is a fine-looking cake. Here, eat. Do you like it? Is it good? Is it light? Yeah, more. Here, eat. What's the matter? The cake lies against my heart. Oh? Painfully. With much... My friend is sick. Doctor, doctor. My friend is eating of cake and he is sick. His wife sent him cake and he is sick. His wife sent him cake and he became sick, Inspector. I do not wish to say it, but you forgive me, do you not? Yes, you do. I was in the presence of his wife when she said she wished her husband dead. That she thought him a brute in an imbecile and she wished him dead. And then she sent me to buy arsenic for mice, she said. For mice. Then this cake comes to my friend Charles LeFage and he eats of it and now he is dead. Inspector, you forced me to say it. I did not wish to say it, but... you forced me. For Tune, Capello LeFage was arrested on the charge of murder. She was put in prison in January, 1841 and brought to trial in July. It is safe to say that this period was a time of travail. For Marie lost 40 pounds, her golden hair turned to silver and her youthful complexion turned ashen. These in the main were observations made by Raoul Lassie, the George Garvey of the Fourth Estate of that day. Nor during the trial were the interrogations less unmerciful. She was asked first of all whether she loved her husband. Less perhaps than other women. More perhaps than some. And did she ever say she wished him dead? No, not meaningly. May I make a statement? My name is Dennis Barbier. Charles LeFage was my good friend. We addressed each other in the second person singular, familiar as two. I grieve for his death. I grieve that his widow has been placed in such a precarious position. Yet I am forced to say that I, Dennis Barbier, your friend of Charles LeFage, did hear Marie LeFage wish her husband dead, meaningly. You provoked me. Poor little thing. You did. You provoked me. If you wish to say so, I will not disagree. Wife to my friend Charles LeFage now dead by poison. Of arsenic indeed, which Dennis himself had purchased. I myself purchased the arsenic and gave it to you. It was for mice. For mice, if you wish to say so, I will never disagree. It was for mice. For mice. Ask my mother-in-law. Ask her. Madame LeFage. Very well. I recall no mice. I run a clean chateau. And your daughter-in-law says for mice. I say you killed my dear friend Charles LeFage. Murderous! No! Murderous! No! Yes! And what of the cake? There were five small cakes. There was but one cake, a large cake of seven layers. Ask my mother-in-law. Ask her. Madame LeFage. I do not remember them. You yourself put them in those five pans. I do not remember. And what of the money? From the bank I took 25,000 francs and put them in the parcels. There was only 3,000 francs in the parcels. Murderous! Sentence to life imprisonment at hard labor. Also occasional exposures in the pillories. Then Mama, 12 years later on her deathbed, suddenly... It was not a seven-layered cake. It was five small ones which Mary sent to my son. Something must be done. And something was done. Mary LeFage, who had already served 12 years, had her sentence reduced to just five more years. Then she was sent to a home. Then she killed herself. We'll return in just a moment to tell you about next week's crime classic. For High Style Plymouth is the car for you, and tomorrow's the day to see it. Tomorrow's also the day to enter the big $25,000 Plymouth contest. You'll find all the easy rules and a complete list of prizes on the entry blank your Plymouth dealer has for you. So remember, you have a date tomorrow to see the big, bright, beautiful new 1954 Plymouth. And here again is Thomas Highland. Next week, the broad state of New Mexico. At a time when it was worth your life to walk down the street, armed or unarmed, day or night. My report to you will be on Billy Bonney Bloodletter, also known as The Kid. Thank you. Good night. For Dom LeFage, tonight's crime classic was adapted from the original court reports and newspaper accounts by Morton Fine and David Friedkin. The music was composed and conducted by Bernard Herman. And the program is produced and directed by Elliott Lewis. Thomas Highland is portrayed on radio by Lou Merrill. In tonight's story, Eve McVeigh was heard as Marie, Irene Tedrow as Madame LeFage, Joseph Kearns as Dennis, Edgar Berrier as Nooni, and William Conrad as Charles. Roy Rowan speaking. Crime Classics was brought to you by Plymouth, with a reminder that the new 54 high-style Plymouth comes to town tomorrow. Be sure to see it. This is the CBS Radio Network.