 Lipton tea and Lipton soups present Inner Sanctum Mysteries. Good evening, friends of the Inner Sanctum. This is your host to welcome you through the squeaking door. What's that? You're scared. Don't be frightened. Why, we've been beating our brains out to make things pleasant for you. Yes, take that fellow lying on the floor. Now, that's a nice guy, really solicitous. He put a bullet through his head because he didn't want you to be bored. Oh, you don't like that pretty lady hanging from the chandelier. Well, we'll fix that. We'll cut her down and nail her to the wall, and she'll be a pinup girl. My goodness, Mr. Host, sounds as if there's nothing you and your friends wouldn't do to oblige. Oh, but there is, Mary. You never catch us being nice to anyone to oblige. Not on your death would we do that. I can't believe you're so different from most people, Mr. Host, and most people enjoy doing nice things for others. Like what, Mary? Why? Like always having Lipton tea on the table. That's one of the nicest things you can do for your family and friends. Why do I say Lipton tea? Well, there's a good reason for that. Lipton's has that wonderful brisk flavor, and brisk flavor is the thing that makes a world of difference between Lipton's and other teas. In fact, brisk is the tea expert's own word for that fresh, lively, full-bodied flavor of Lipton tea. And it's a word you'll agree just naturally applies to Lipton's the very first time you taste this delicious tea. For Lipton's has a zesty, full flavor that makes it stand right out. So, for extra cheer and comfort and satisfaction in your tea drinking, get acquainted with Lipton's right away. Why put up with just so-so teas any longer when there's so much more pleasure to be found in Lipton's brisk flavor? And now, friends, do whatever it is that you do when fear fastens cold fingers on your spine. A cigarette, perhaps, or a handkerchief to twist? Anything to brace you against tonight's tale of horror. It's an original radio play written especially for Inner Sanctum by Michael Sklar, and called Death is a Double Crosser. Our star tonight is Lawson Cervé, who plays the part of Harry Smith, murderer. I looked at the blood-splattered mallet, still gripped in my hand, and down at Marie's body. It was like coming out of a bad dream, only to go into a nightmare. Instead of using a mallet to cut the King Midas diamond, I'd used it to murder my wife. And the big diamond was still in the vice. Still sparking in the light of the work lamp, still tormenting me with a glow of its inner fires. The thing was evil. Anderson had won me. Anderson was right. My luck had been all bad ever since I came to this house. We were one of those old New York brownstones, big enough for several families, but only two people were living there when I came. Anderson and my wife. Marie was working as his housekeeper, and she gave him a land. He's about 70 years old, Harry. He lives all alone here. It's perfect for you. No family? No wife, no children, no friends. He never goes out except on business, and no one ever comes to see him. Sounds good to me, Marie. Good. It's perfect. I'll tell him you just got out of the army. He won't ask questions. He'll never find out you were in prison. What does he do for a living? He's a diamond cutter. A diamond cutter? You don't say. He was famous once. He doesn't cut little ones, Harry. Only the great big diamonds were thousands of dollars. I moved in with Marie, and for a while everything was quiet. I didn't mind it quiet after that five-year forgery rap and sing-sing. And then one day the peace and quiet ended. I met old Anderson on the steps going down the street. Good morning, Harry. Oh, hello, Mr. Anderson. You look all excited. Some good news coming away. I hope so, Harry. Of course I can't afford to be either, but it would be pleasant to work again. And it's nice to know that people still remember you. Is it a job? A wonderful job. If I get the assignment, I'm sure I'll get it. He couldn't give it anywhere else. A diamond? One of the largest diamonds in the world. The King Midas Stone, discovered last year in the Kimberley Fields, was purchased recently by Johnson, the multimillionaire. I'm on my way to his home to discuss the cutting. Wow, good luck. I sure hope you get the job, Mr. Anderson. The next afternoon Anderson invited me up to his work room. On the bench was a square black velvet covered by a white cloth. Something big was underneath that cloth. Anderson lifted it. And for the first time I saw the King Midas Diamond. How do you think of it, Harry? For a second, I couldn't talk. That blood was pumping too fast. Two hundred and fifteen carats. When I finished cutting, it'll be reduced to a hundred and twenty-five. How much will it be worth? Diamond like that? You could get a hundred thousand dollars, and no questions asked. It's funny. It's kind of oily on the surface, but down inside it gleams like it's on fire. Does it frighten you? Yeah. A stone like that does things to me. The story of great diamonds is a history of intrigue, violence, and murder. You said something about cutting it. I have to study the King Midas until every detail of the task is clear in my mind. Then just a few light blows of the mallet on the chisel, and the result will be a flawless diamond. How long will it take? Oh, I should say about two months, Harry. I went downstairs to Marie. One look at me and she knew she was going to die. I told her my plan. If they catch you, they'll send you back to jail. They won't catch me. I've got it all figured out. This is our chance. He told me himself that the diamond will be worth a hundred grand when he's finished. A hundred grand? Yeah, no more pots and pans and scrubbing floors. No more passing phony checks. We'll be set for life, Marie. How are you going to go about it? I'll wait for you. How are you going to go about it? I'll wait until he's finished cutting the diamond. How will you know when he's finished? You'd have to know the exact time. If you waited too long, he might turn it over to the owner, Mr. Johnson. Then where would you be? Don't worry. I've got that figured out, too. So you want to become a diamond cutter, Harry? If you'll teach me the work, Mr. Anderson, I promise I won't be any botherer. All I want to do is watch you while you go about cutting the King Midas. Diamond cutters aren't made overnight. It takes a great deal of time. I spent 50 years learning the craft. Oh, please, Mr. Anderson, you don't know what this means to me. Well, all right, Harry. I'll let you watch me as I work. So that's how it began. Every day for two months I went upstairs and watched Anderson as he studied the King Midas diamond. Cleavage must take place along Thane's parallel to the octahedron faces of the crystal. Step by step he explained the job, how he would split it, where he would place the notches so that the diamond would split along the exact lines he wanted. He went over every detail again and again and again. Finally, he cut the notches for the splitting. Slowly, carefully, and then he placed the diamond in the vise. He got out the chisel on the mallet and placed them on the workbench. It was like a wedding ceremony. I was on fire. I couldn't wait. Just a few taps for the manate and it's done. Are you going to do it now? No, Harry. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow. We kept putting it off. Then I realized what it was. He was scared. He couldn't trust his unsteady hands. It hit me like a ton of brick. He was never going to cut that diamond. You're so smart. What are you going to do now? I'm going to cut the diamond myself. You? Yeah, me. I know how to do it. It's all set. There's nothing to it. But what about Anderson? We don't need Anderson anymore. You mean? Yeah. But that's murder. So it's murder. They'll never pin it on us. I figured out a way to do it without leaving any trace behind. We went upstairs. Anderson was standing where I left him at the workbench. He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear us come in. He isn't walking. Get it over with. Hi. Let it go on me. I... I don't like to do this, Mr. Anderson. Very... very... stop it. It's no use, Mr. Anderson. I don't... He begged for mercy. He fought back, but it was useless. I had a firm grip on his neck, both hands, and he was an old man. I squeezed tighter and tighter until his voice was cut off. His body stopped thrashing around. Held him like that a couple of seconds more for good measure. You can let go of him now. He's dead, Harry. Dear, dear, dear. Imagine that. Cold-blooded murder. Killing a harmless old man like Mr. Anderson, choking him to death. Isn't that slail? And all because of a piece of ice. Why it makes me hot under the collar. And that cool cucumber, Harry Smith. I'll bet he gets so hot that he'll burn before he's through. Mr. Host, I'd surely hate to look forward to such a fate. Oh, no danger, Mary. That is, unless you plan to embark on a crime career just for excitement. No, thank you, Mr. Host. I find enough excitement in the little everyday pleasures of life. Take yesterday, for instance. I was in the middle of the luncheon dishes when the doorbell rang, and then walked my cousin Betty, a whack just back from overseas. You can imagine that called for a real celebration. And in no time, I had the tea kettle on, and we were sitting down to a real gab fest over our friendly cups of Lipton tea. We were in the sun room, and the sun was streaming in, lending its bright golden rays to cheer us on. We just sat there sipping and talking. Oh, it must have been for hours, because the sun was going down in a rosy blaze when we finally tore ourselves away. And believe me, Lipton's played a lively part in the fun we had. Even Betty remarked on it. When she got up to go, she said, You know, Mary, it's tea like that that makes a person glad to be home again. And friends, that's really true. Lipton's grand brisk flavor is worth hunting the world over to enjoy. It gives you such extra delight, complete satisfaction. Try it yourself. Tomorrow, start enjoying Lipton's, the tea with brisk flavor. Well, friends, let's get back to Harry Smith and his charming wife. Such nice people. They killed old Anderson, the diamond cutter, to steal a piece of ice worth $100,000. And unless they have a lot of another kind of ice handy, they'll have to do something fast to get rid of the body. We carried Anderson's body down to the cellar and broke open the brick wall. Placing the old man's body behind it, we bricked it up again. Then we went through my plan. I wrote a suicide note. To whom it may concern, I, Olaf Anderson, because I failed in the task of cutting the King Midas diamond, have decided to take my life. When this note is found, I will be dead. It was easy for me a professional forger to fake the suicide note in Anderson's handwriting. I had him say he was going to end it all in the river and that he was taking the diamond with him to his death. And that night, Marie and I took a walk across the footpath over the Hudson River Bridge. We reached the middle of that. Not the suicide note in Anderson's overcoat pocket. Yeah. No cars coming from either direction. Now's a good time to drop it. Yeah. The cops will find the coat and figure that he took it off before he climbed the rail and jumped. All right. Come on, Harry. Let's get away from here. We went home. Marie telephoned police headquarters and asked for the missing person's bureau. I want to report a missing person. It's the man I work for, Olaf Anderson. Yes, Anderson, I'm his housekeeper and I'm worried because it's so late and he hasn't come home. My name, Mrs. Harry Smith. We went to bed. I guess we would hear from the police the next morning and I was right. Yes. What is it? Megan is the name, lady. Detective Joe Megan, missing person's bureau. Oh, yes. Come in. Are you the party who reported a man named Olaf Anderson missing? Yes. Did you... Did we find him? I think so. I'd like you folks to come down to the morgue with me. The morgue? Point four. We've got a body down there. A body of an old man that fits the description of Anderson. It was fished out of the Hudson River early this morning. You might be able to identify it. We are, folks. Before I left the sheet on this slab, I ought to warn you. This stiff ain't exactly pretty. We can stand a little shocked, Megan. I just thought the lady... I'm all right. Okay, then. Well, do you recognize him? His face is gone like he went through a meat shopper. Most of his clothes were gone, too, when we got him. The guy must have got caught in the propeller of a passing ship. Marie, it's Mr. Anderson. Harry. Don't you recognize a pass? They're from that old suit he always used to wear. Oh, yes. Yes, you're right. So you can identify him, eh? I'm sure that's Mr. Anderson. Well, I guess that closes the case. Suicide. Body recovered. And a great big hunk of diamond at the bottom of the Hudson River. It was a lucky break for us. We were in the clear, and the king mightest diamond was ours. We went back to the house. I took the diamond up to the workroom, and I placed it in a vice. I got out the mallet in my chisel. I thought it'd be easy to cut the stone until I tried. Well, what are you waiting for? My hand is shaking. I'm kind of nervous. Things have been coming too fast. Let's put this off until tomorrow. I didn't know why he said I'd do it tonight, but... But what? I don't feel so well tonight, Marie. You're lying. How long are you going to keep this up? I take it easy. You said you knew how to do it. I do. Well, then cut it. For heaven's sakes, get it over with. Don't rush me. If I make a mistake, it'll cost us $100,000. You've been putting it off for three days now, Harry. First this, and then that. There's always something. You've always got a reason for not cutting that diamond. Listen, Marie, I've got to be careful. Knowing how to cut the diamond is one thing. Doing it is another. You're scared. That's what's the matter with you. Don't say that. You're frightened. Look at your hands. See how they shake. Well, you can hardly hold a mallet and chisel. You're as bad as Anderson was. She was right. My hands were shaking, just like Anderson's, before I killed him. I tried for control. I told myself the diamond was nothing but a chunk of carbon crystal. I placed the chisel against the stone. I raised the mallet, but I couldn't bring it down. Now what are you waiting for? Hey, I don't know how hard this strike. A gentle blow. That's what you said Anderson told you. I, uh, I can't do it. You can't do it. Of course you can. Don't be a stupid fool. There's nothing to it. She went wild. She began to shake my arm and screened at me. But her voice seemed to come from a distance. I kept staring at that diamond as though I were hypnotized. My throat was dry as dust. I was dizzy. Pin points of fire shot across my eyes. The diamond was doing things to me and it was driving Marie crazy. Suddenly I couldn't stand it. Her voice snapped something in my mind. You, you fool, you stupid idiot. Don't stand there like a silly girl. Shut up. Don't you dare shout at me. Shut up. I've had all I can take from you. Why have all the nerve you... Harry, put on that mallet. Stay away from me. I didn't mean those things I said. Take as much time as you like. Don't... Harry! I'm sorry. I lost my head. Marie, say something. He's dead. I killed him. I took her body down to the cellar, reopened the wall, placed her body with amnesty. I hardly finished putting the bricks back into place when the front doorbell rang. I cleaned my hands, went upstairs and opened it. Hello, Smith. It was Megan, the detective. He came in, looked around suspiciously and closed the door behind him. What's the matter with you, Smith? Me? Yeah, you. You look sick. Me, sick? I never felt better, my life. Maybe it's the light. She'll wipe it home? No, she isn't. She'll take it home soon? I know. No, she... went to Baltimore to visit her mother. Left kind of suddenly, didn't she? What are you driving at, Megan? Like the chip off your shoulder. Nobody's picking on you. Yet. What do you mean? This Anderson suicide. You said the case was closed. It was closed until this morning. Now there's a couple of angles in the case that don't make sense. I'm not even sure the old guy we pulled out of the river is Anderson. But I identified him. Sure, you did. Yesterday, a guy named Keely shot up at the morgue and swore that same body was his father. It must be Anderson. The suicide note... Suicide note said Anderson was killing himself because he made a mistake and ruined the King Midas diamond. Dad, don't you see? But Anderson never got the job of cutting that diamond. He what? Say that again. Anderson never was commissioned to cut the King Midas diamond. How do you like that? It can't be. He told me himself. I got that information straight from the owner, Mr. Johnson. I don't believe it. Johnson was out of town until this morning. I got in touch with him making a routine check on the facts. He told me never commissioned Anderson to cut the stone. Said Anderson was too old and unreliable to be trusted with the job. But I saw the diamond. Saw it on Anderson's workbench. The diamond you saw must have been a phony. A diamond. Still upstairs in the work room. Still waiting to be cut. I couldn't believe it was a phony. I wouldn't believe it. It had to be the King Midas. Megan was getting more and more suspicious. I had to act fast before he got down to the cellar and noticed the fresh plaster on the wall. I had to make sure about the diamond. I'd gone too far now to back out. I hit Megan on the head with an hand iron. It was unconscious. I dragged his body out of the closet and locked the door. Upstairs in the work room. Grabbed up the chisel. Now it's no time to think now. No time to be frightened. I had to know if that diamond was the King Midas. I put the edge of the chisel to one of the cleaving grooves. Struck with a mouth. The chips. It is glass. Megan was right. I went through all this for nothing. The whole thing was clear now. Anderson had lied to me. He had lied even to himself. Yeah, that was it. He had been unwilling to admit even to himself that he was no longer good enough to be trusted to cut the King Midas diamond. He was nuts. And he made up that crazy story. And I swallowed it. One thing left to do. I had to get away as far away as possible as fast as I could. I ran to the stairs. Going somewhere, Smith? Megan. Eyes to hands. Get in my pile. I'll come on down here. That's close enough. How'd you get out of the closet? It's not trick at all to force that door when I recovered from the crack on the hedger, gave me. And it sucked. It's something for me, Smith. You know, it gave me a brand new angle on this case. A new angle? Yeah. How's this? You thought Anderson had the King Midas diamond. So you killed him for it and planted that phony suicide note on the bridge. You know, we almost fell for it. You killed Anderson. It wouldn't be at all surprised if you murdered your wife. And all for a phony five and ten cents to a diamond. Poor Harry Smith. What a life for Smith caught between the hammer and the anvil. You know, he never should have lost his head and murdered his wife. No, because now it looks as though he's going to have to lose the rest of him. Yes, right now Harry is really harried. And when the state executioner gets him, he'll be fit to be tied in a noose. Well, this has all been very exciting, Mr. Host. But now, before we go, suppose we leave our listeners with a very special word. And that word is? A word that's quicker to say than a minute. The word brisk. Because friends, brisk signifies the flavor you want in a tea. And brisk stands for Lipton tea. So if you like tea at its most flavorful, delicious best, just remember this. Always ask for Lipton tea. Maybe you meant to get it last week and just forgot. Well, keep that from happening again. Right now, put down Lipton tea on tomorrow's grocery list. And now, friends, a few parting words of advice cull from the case history of Harry Smith. Remember, you can't afford to cut up when you cut diamonds. And don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today, because someone might do you in tomorrow. Oh, by the way, this month's Inner Sanctum Mystery Novel is The Lying Ladies, by Robert Finnegan. And next week, the makers of Lipton tea and Lipton soups will bring you another Inner Sanctum story, directed by Hyman Brown and called Night is My Shroud. Where would you least expect to meet the man of your dreams? You know, tall, good-looking, well-groomed in the movies, tending the soda fountain, or riding your own dumb waiter. You'll be listening to Inner Sanctum at the same time next week to see how your dream may come true as only dead dreams can. Until then, good night. Pleasant dream. To make him say, I'll have another helping of soup, please, better serve lots more Lipton's noodle soup, and serve it lots more often, friends. It's delicious, chickeny tasting soup, has that real old-fashioned flavor, and it's full of tempting, tender noodles. You prepare Lipton's noodle soup mix with ease and speed, and it costs less and makes lots more. It's Lipton's noodle soup. So ask for some tomorrow. And next week, tune in for another Inner Sanctum mystery. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.