 And now, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. In a moment, Act 1 of Golden Years, starring Peter Fernandez and Rosemary Rice, and written especially for Suspense by William N. Robeson. This portion brought to you by the makers of Parliament's cigarettes. Listen, more and more people are smoking to this tune every day. Parliament gives you extra margin, Parliament gives you extra margin. The filters read that stand made to stay underneath and clean. Quarter each away, Parliament gives you extra margin. Parliament gives you extra margin. You're smoking underneath, you're smoking clean with Parliament today. I really didn't know Buddy well at all. We just met about a week ago at the mall shop. He was real cute. He thought I was cute too. At least he said he did. And last night we had this date. Only he wanted to break it, so I went over to babysit for Mrs. Foster. But before that, I guess I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, the whole terrible thing must have started yesterday morning over at Buddy's house. I wasn't there, of course, but it must have happened something like this, I guess. Dad, could I ask you something? Sure, son, what's in your mind? I, uh, I got a date tonight. That's nice. Dad, will you put down that paper and listen to me? Buddy, that's no way to speak to your father. I'm sorry, mother. Dad! Yes, yes, buddy, I'm listening. You said you had a date tonight, didn't you? Which is scarcely new. So I was wondering... The answer is no. Why don't you wait till I finish? Because I know what you're gonna say. And the answer is no. You may not have the car tonight. Why not? Do you know the answer to that, too? All right, so I got a ticket. It was only a 35 and a 30. Which makes it speeding, son. All right, all right, so it was speeding. But gee, Dad, that was six weeks ago. So I grounded you for two months. Yeah, but gee, you... Well, can't a guy get time off for good behavior? I'm caught up on my homework. I'm helping mom with the dishes. That's true. And this date I got. How am I gonna explain to her that I haven't got a car? Just explain how you hot-rodded through the residential streets of this town when you did have a car. Well, can't. I don't think you're being very fair. That's the subject in which you are not qualified to pass an opinion. But the other kids... And that's the discussion I will not be trapped into, either. What other parents do with other kids is of no concern to me. I didn't get a speeding ticket, son. You did. And just because the traffic court lets you off with a warning is no reason why I shouldn't punish you. Yeah, punishment. That's all you can think of. I'll bet if my real father was alive... Honey! I don't care. You are not my father and you haven't got a right to punish me like this. Now, you'll listen to me, young man. I'm your legal father and you'll do as I say. Now, I adopted you when I married your mother. In the eyes of the law, I'm every bit as much your father as if my blood ran in your veins. I'm sure glad it doesn't. On that, we see eye to eye, young man. But as long as you remain in this house, you'll do as I say. How is that clear? Loud and clear. I will not put up with your insults. Yeah, yeah, I know. Thanks a lot, father. Thanks for nothing. Oh, Fred. It's a phase he's passing through. Sixteen's an awful age for boys. But he'll grow out of it. You'll see the day when you'll be proud he's your son. Sometimes wonder if I'll live that long. That's the way it must have happened. Something like that, I guess. Anyway, like I said, I had this date with Spuddy last night. Only, I ran into him sort of accidentally in the afternoon. You see, I dropped into the mall shop for a coke. And I played a few records and then, guess what? Who should walk in but Buddy? Hi, Sue. Oh, hiya, Buddy. Whatcha doing? Nothing. Me too. Funny. What? It's a coincidence, kind of. What is? Who is? Me dropping in for a coke and you dropping in? Coincidence. Yeah. What's the matter, Buddy? Nothing. You're all for quiet. Look, Sue, I gotta break our date tonight. Why, Buddy? My old man won't let me have the car. Oh, well, that's all right. We don't have to go anyplace. Well, it's not all right. Hey, look, I've got an idea. Mrs. Foster wanted me to babysit for her this evening. I could tell her yes. And then you can come over there and, well, we can listen to records or look at TV or something. She won't mind. It's nice of you to be so understanding, Sue, but don't you see it's the principle of the thing. He's got no right treating me this way, like I was still in junior high school or something. I know, Buddy, but the parents are all alike. They just never seem to learn. Oh, he's gonna learn. Tonight. That's the real reason why I'm breaking our date. Huh? What do you mean? I'm gonna kill him. Tonight. You're kidding. No, I'm not, Sue. I mean it. I've got it all figured out. He always falls asleep after supper in front of the TV waiting for the 9 o'clock news. When the news comes on, he wakes up like an alarm clock. He looks at the news and then he goes to bed only tonight. Tonight he'll never see the news. He'll never wake up at all. What's so funny? You are. That imagination of yours, you're too far out. I'm serious, Sue. I'm gonna do it tonight. Listen, I think you better come over to Mrs. Foster's with me tonight and we'll talk about it. There's nothing to talk about. I've made up my mind. He's had this coming to him for a long time, that dirty old... Right! There's no way to talk about your father. Well, it's just it, Sue. He isn't my real father. He's my stepfather and I hate him. I've hated him ever since I was a little boy. But that's no reason to kill him. It's reason enough for me. I've taken enough from him. I'm not gonna let him push me around anymore. Crazy kid, talking that way? Crazy! I didn't really take him seriously then. What until later when... Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself again. He left saying maybe he'd call me at Mrs. Foster's later. He didn't tell me where he was going when he left the mall to shop, but later I found out... Hello there, boy. Hello, Mr. Schmidt. You come one minute later, won't you? Be out of luck. I was just closing. I'm glad I made it. Well, what will it be? I need a box of ammo for my twenty-two. So are you going hunting? Yeah, I'm going hunting. You have a note from your father? For what? You did not know? The last time I saw your bullets, your father came with me, said not to sell you anymore without his permission. He did? So you didn't know anything about it? Well, you never said a word to me. Well, I'm sorry, but you'll have to get his permission first. Yeah. Get his permission. Always get his permission. And again, before I close up? No. I guess not, Mr. Schmidt. You get that note from your father. I'll be glad to oblige. Sure, Mr. Schmidt. Hey. Wait a minute. This will do the trick. What? This hunting knife. Yeah, more quiet than a bullet. What are you talking about, buddy? Nothing, Mr. Schmidt. I'll take this knife. Put it on my dad's bill, will you please? Yeah, sure, sure. Buddy, I'm sorry about the bullets. No sweat, Mr. Schmidt. Is that you, too? Yes, Mrs. Foster. Come on in, dear. The door is unlocked. OK. The baby's dinner things are laid out in the kitchen. I'm so glad you were able to come over and help out tonight. Oh, darn, this zipper. Here, can you get it unstuck, Sue? Well, try. There. Why, Sue, what's the matter? You're handshaking. Oh, uh, it's nothing, Mrs. Foster. Nothing but your white as a sheet. Here, Sue, sit down. I'll get you a glass of water. No, no, please. I'm all right. Yes, I am. Well, you don't look all right. Now come on, tell me, dear, what's the matter? What's upsetting you? Mrs. Foster. Yes? Mrs. Foster, do you think a boy would kill his father just because he wouldn't let him borrow the family car? Sue, what are you talking about? You see, Buddy Birdwell, my boyfriend sort of, he wasn't kidding, but I thought he was when he said it, but now I'm not so sure, and I keep thinking back, and he was awful serious. Serious about what, Sue? Tell me. About murdering his father. Why? I said he was going to murder his father tonight. For heaven's sake, why? Because he wouldn't let him have the car. Oh, but that's plain crazy. That's what I thought, but now I... I know. Buddy, you've hardly touched your supper. I'm not hungry, Mom. Maybe he's in love. Ha! Big joke. Oh, no, no. Well, didn't I hear you say you had another date tonight, son? How can you have a date without a car? Oh, well, no, you could walk. Walking, when I was with the horse and buggy. Oh, along with the courtesy and politeness to your elders? Look, let's just change the subject, huh? Yes, let's do that. Don't do it always. What's the big idea of telling Mr. Schmidt to sell me any ammunition for my 22? Oh, son, son, look, you shoot that gun the same as you drive the car. You'll end up killing somebody with one or the other unless you stop. How right you are, Daddy-O. And that's everything I can remember he said, Mrs. Foster. Do you think he really means to do it? I don't know. But just to be on the safe side, we've got to warn his father. Where does he live? Oh, I don't know. You don't know? No, you see. Well, I really don't know buddy awfully well. I just met him only last week over at the malt shop. I see he picked you up. Well, not exactly. Oh, you picked him up? Well, that's not exactly yet either. I understand, Sue. I used to hang around the malt shop myself not so very long ago. So, you see, I don't really know very much about him. But even so... You wouldn't want him to murder his father. Oh, no. Neither would I, and I don't know him at all. Now let's see if we can find their telephone number. But Mrs. Foster, you have an important meeting to go to. That's right, Sue. And you know what the meeting's about? No. Well, believe it or not, it's the meeting of the mayor's committee on crime prevention. Oh, no. So if I can prevent a crime without leaving the house, why attend a meeting on the subject? Now, what's this lethal Lothario's name? Um, Buddy Birdwell. You don't think he was serious, do you? I don't know, Sue, but I'm sure they're going to find out. Birdwell? Yes, that's right. A-C-A-D-I. Here we are, Birdwell. I'll tell the art director many in the book, so we'll begin with Birdwell Albert. Well, no answer on that one. That's the last Birdwell in the book. Either it's a busy signal or a disconnect, or if they do answer, they never heard of you, little friend Buddy. Well, Gawley, I'm sorry, Mrs. Foster, I guess. Maybe I was a little hysterical about the whole thing. Why didn't I think of that in the first place? What, Mrs. Foster? The police. Of course they are the ones to handle this. They'll know what to do. I'll tell the police station, Sergeant Kenny speaking. Oh, Sergeant, this is Mrs. Foster of the mayor's committee on crime prevention. I want to report a murder. What? A murder. Oh, yes, Mrs. Foster. It hasn't happened yet, but I'm afraid it's going to. Well, who's got a murder for us? Well, this boy, Buddy Birdwell. Oh, yes, Buddy Birdwell. He told his girlfriend that he was going to murder his father tonight just before nine o'clock, and I thought you ought to know so you could stop him. Yes, ma'am, now, where does he live? Well, that's the trouble. I don't know his address, and I called all the Birdwells in the phone book. Well, now, we'll do what we can, Mrs. Foster, but we hardly ever hear about murders until after they happen. Mother? Yes, Buddy. Why did you marry Dad? Well, because I loved him. Well, that was a long time ago when I was a little boy. Do you still love him? Of course I do. Would you care if anything happened to him? Why are you asking me such questions? I'm growing up, Mother. I've got to know a lot of answers. Stop scraping that knife on that stone. It makes me nervous. Okay, Mother. It's got a good edge now. A nice razor sharp edge. You didn't answer my question. Would you care if anything happened to him? Well, of course I'd care. He's my husband. He's my whole life. You too. Me, why? You're on his side. I don't know what you mean. Mother, why did you divorce my real father? Oh, Buddy, we've been through all this. Have we? Tell me again. Tell me, why did you divorce him? I didn't love him anymore. What about me? You didn't love me either, then. You sent my father away. Boy needs a father, and you sent him away. I had nothing to do with that. I divorced him, but I did not send him to Korea. Maybe he wouldn't have had to go if you hadn't divorced him. Now stop it, Buddy. I won't listen another minute. What I did, I did for your good as well as my own happiness. You sent my father away. You've got to remember, Sue. We haven't much time left. It's nearly nine o'clock. Now think, dear. What else do you know about this boy? I've told you everything, Mrs. Foster. I can't remember anything else. Then we'll have to go right back to the beginning again. Do you think you'll really do it, Mrs. Foster? I don't know, but we've got to be sure that he doesn't. No. Now, from the beginning, Sue. I think, what did he say to you this afternoon? Oh, all right. Well, let's see. He said he had to break our date because his father wouldn't let him have the car. And then I said... Now, never mind what you said. Just remember what he said. But remember everything. I'll try. I'll try. Then he said he was going to kill him while he was asleep in front of the TV. He said he'd had it coming for a long time. And then he started to say things about his father. And I said he shouldn't talk that way about his father. And he said he wasn't his real father. He was his stepfather. And that's why he hated him so much. Oh. Oh, well, that explains it. Why none of the Birdwells in the phone book ever heard of Buddy. Why? Because Buddy's name may be Birdwell, but apparently it isn't his stepfather's name. Oh, yes, of course. All we've got to do now is find out the name of Buddy's stepfather. Only, how do we do that? I don't know. Well, think, did he ever talk about his father? Like, well, like where he works? No, not that I remember. Any organizations he belongs to? No. Luncheon clubs, country clubs, churches. Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute. He did say something about church once, all. Oh, I was kidding him about the way his voice squeaks sometimes. And he said he was a star soprano in the... Oh, St. Luke's choir before his voice change. St. Luke's? Well, that's my church. Oh, now we're getting somewhere. Dr. Devon should know. Who's he? He's the pastor's name. Oh. Good evening, Dr. Devon's here. Oh, good evening, Doctor. This is Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Frank Foster. Oh, yes, Mrs. Foster. How are you this lovely evening? I'm fine, thank you. And Mr. Foster? Oh, he's well. Well, we haven't seen you at services for several weeks. Yes, I know. Mr. Foster's been out of town, and I haven't been feeling well. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Nothing serious, I hope. No, no. Look, Dr. Devon, I need your help. Of course, Mrs. Foster. What can I do for you? Do you recall a choir boy named Buddy Birdwell? Birdwell? Yes. Buddy Birdwell. He was your star soprano a couple of years ago. Oh, yes, yes, a fine boy. But I must say, he's also been lax in attendance recently. Yes, well, Doctor, what I want to know is, what is his father's name? Why, Birdwell, of course, although I can't recall the first name at the moment. No, it probably isn't Birdwell. I'm referring to Buddy's stepfather. Oh, yes, yes, of course. Yes, it comes back to me now. His buddy was very proud of his real father, and he insisted on re-assuming his name when he became fourth. Yes, yes. But the stepfather, what's his name? Does he know? Yes. Oh, dear, it's all the tip of my tongue. Carstens? No, no, it... Carsten, yes, that's it. Ralph Carsten is a fine man, a fine boy, a fine family. Ralph Carsten? Oh, Doctor Devens, do you think this... this fine boy is capable of murdering his fine stepfather? Mrs. Foster, whatever puts such an idea in your head. Well, he did indirectly. Do you have Mr. Carsten's phone number? Yes, it's around here somewhere. Would you just hold the line for a second? Yes, Doctor. Oh, yes, here it is. Where's five, three, two, nine, six. Five, three, two, yes, nine, six. Thank you very much, Doctor. Is there something wrong, Mrs. Foster? Is there anything I can do? Pray, Doctor. That's about all you can do now. Pray for that fine boy and his fine stepfather. Pray hard. Mrs. Foster, I... W. E. Five, three, two... Oh, why doesn't somebody answer that phone? Buddy. Buddy, why are you standing there with that knife in your hand? I... Answer the phone. Buddy, don't you hear me? Yes, Dad. Mr. Carsten residence. Yes, ma'am. Is this Buddy Birdwell? Yes. Is your father there? He's here. Is he all right? You didn't... He's all right. The phone... I need to walk him up in time. Oh, for goodness sakes. What am I doing here? I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry. What do you mean you're sorry? Here, here. Give me that phone. Hello. Hello. Yes, who is this? Just speaking, Mr. Carsten. Are you all right? All right. Of course I'm all right, except the phone woke me up. And the first thing I see is this son of mine standing over me with a knife. Now he's just standing here blubbering like a baby. Look, what's going on around here? Call me, and I don't know you, but please don't think me a busybody or a medda when I tell you this. Tell me what? Just this. Son of yours needs you. Maybe your help. We've been listening to Golden Years, starring Peter Fernandez and Rosemary Reiss, and written especially for Suspense by William M. Robeson. In a moment, a word about next week's story of Suspense. Directed by Fred Hendrickson. Edited by Norman Ober. Music supervision by Ethel Huber. Heard in tonight's story were Iber Francis, Elspeth Eric, Mary Jane Higby, Ronald Dawson, Brett Morrison, and Pat Hosley. Listen again next week when we return with Point of a Needle, written by Joseph Cochran. Another tale well calculated to keep you in. Suspense.