 Lux presents Hollywood. The Lux Radio Theatre brings you Lana Turner and Thierry O'Mont in Crossroads. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Lana Turner was a high school girl sipping a chocolate soda at a drugstore counter and perhaps thinking about the latest Clark Gable picture. When someone, not an astronomer, walked in and discovered a new star. But there was no mistake because she was soon to see herself on the screen co-starring with Clark Gable. Three years ago, one of the leading screen actors of France left the Paris sound stages to command a tank in the front line. He won the Croix de Guerre. When France fell, he made his way to America by way of Morocco and Lisbon. He began all over again in a strange land, and today, Thierry O'Mont is a star once more. These two adventure stories join tonight as Lana Turner and Thierry O'Mont co-star in the Lux Radio Theatre. Lana has just finished making Slightly Dangerous over at Metro Golden Mayor, and they're expecting great things at the same studio for Thierry's new picture, Assignment in Brittany. Tonight, we're presenting them together in another Metro Golden Mayor screenplay called Crossroads. There's a great thrill in discovering a new star, and that thrill is one of the things we try to give you as often as possible in these dramas which Lux Toilet Soap brings you each Monday night. When a star clicks, nobody has any doubt about it. If you'd seen Lana Turner's screen test or Thierry O'Mont's, you too would have predicted stardom for both of them. I suppose I've seen at least 3,000 screen tests during the past 30 years. About half of them were girls, and most of them were very beautiful. Almost the first thing a producer or director observes in a screen test is whether the girl has a good complexion. If not, she has two strikes against her at the start, but girls with a Lux complexion always score a hit. But it's time right now for the first act of Crossroads, starring Lana Turner as Lucienne and Thierry O'Mont as David Talbot. The time I speak of was before the war, France, in the year 1935. Or is it only 8 years ago? It seems so much longer. I married three months then, and I thought the pairs had been made just to mirror my happiness. Where it was so game, so full of light, there could never be tragedy there, or so I thought. Nothing but laughter and dancing and music. How wrong I was. My name is Lucienne Talbot. My husband was David Talbot at the Foreign Office. He was young and brilliant, well on his way to becoming an ambassador. He used to joke about it as if it didn't matter, or what we both knew how much it meant to him. And then one evening, just before dinner, the letter came. The letter that was to change our entire life. I remember telling him I had a surprise for him in the dining room. What do you mean, close my eyes? Well, close them, and no peeking, David. All right. Well, what happens now? Right over here, please. Now, open. What's that? What does it look like? I baked it myself, with a little help from the cook. A kid? But what is it for? For darling, it's your birthday, of course. With 91 candles. No, no, no, of course not. Let's see, 91 candles, 91 days. Or we have been married three months. And you forgot. Darling, I'm so sorry. Well, don't speak to me, I despise you. Darling, would it help if I kissed you? Well, it might. Look at me. Did I tell you this morning I'm a very happy man? Yes. Oh, did I? And did I tell you this evening? Uh-huh. Oh. Well, it must be true, hm? Oh, David. Excuse me, Madame. Yes, Albert? Madame, this package came for you this afternoon. A package? Well, let me have it, Albert. And, Monsieur, this letter was delivered at the door just a few minutes ago. Thank you, Albert. Darling, it's a bracelet. With accompaniments of the groom. Oh, but you told me you forgot. Oh, no, you told me. Oh, David, it's lovely. Did you pick it out yourself? You know, it makes me feel just like a bride. Darling, you'll always be a bride. David. Hm? Wait a moment, dear. Tell me something. When does a bride become a wife? David. David, what's the matter? This. This letter. What is it? Who is it from? I don't know. Here, read it. Dear Jean. Oh, well, that's not for you. It's addressed to me on the envelope. Go on. Well, it says, um, allow an old friend to congratulate you on your noble career. Accept my good wishes for a happy life with your bride. You are now able to pay me that old debt of one million francs. Read the rest of it. May I suggest that you deliver the money to the old, deserted farm, Santé Road. Road over the wall at 11 tonight. I'm sure you will understand the reason why this letter must remain unsigned. But what does it mean, David? I have no idea. What are you going to do? Well, there's only one thing I can do. David, I'm frightened. David took the letter to the police. If only I could have seen into the future that night. If only I'd known what it would mean to us. We could have paid the money and perhaps never been troubled again. As it turned out, David went to the deserted farm on the Santé Road. But the police were with him. There they found a man, a withered, misshapen creature named Le Duc. Within a week, the man was brought to trial. Carlos Le Duc. You've been brought to the bar of justice charged by the state with extortion. You're accused of writing an anonymous letter to David Talbot in which you asked repayment of a debt in the amount of one million francs. Mr. President, the defense will prove that the letter written by my client was a straightforward request for money owed him and not an instrument of extortion. Mr. President, the prosecution will prove that no such debt existed. A creditor does not request payment by asking that money be thrown over a wall in the dead of night. At least my creditors are not so imaginative. Your creditors might be if you are living under an assumed name and they were considerate enough to help you keep your deception a secret. The court would like to know to whom you refer is living under an assumed name. If the court will permit my client to tell his story, my reference will become clear. Very well. Michelle Le Duc, will you tell the court, please, when you first met the man called David Talbot? I met him in 1919, right after the war. In those days his name wasn't Talbot. Then he was known as Jean Peltier. Jean Peltier? Yes, Monsieur. He was a petty criminal with a list of crimes charged against him as long as a bell roped. I claim the court's indulgence. But what has Peltier's record to do with charges against this defendant? It seems quite clear that if a previous relationship existed between the defendant and Monsieur Talbot, whatever his name may have been, there is a possibility that the debt actually existed. Proceed. There was one great talent this Peltier had. A talent for escape. He was never caught by the police. It was in 1922, three years later, that he came to owe me a million francs. It was a decent debt. What were the circumstances of the debt? I regret I'm not at liberty to give further details. Maybe Monsieur Talbot will explain. D'accord. Thirteen years passed, and I'd never heard of Jean Peltier. Then one day, about three months ago, I saw his picture in the paper. It announced his marriage to Lucien D'Cordier. I realized that Jean had changed his name. But whatever his game was, I had no wish to spoil it. All I wanted was my million francs. What had started out to be the trial of an extortionist suddenly became the trial of my husband. While the Duke was testifying, they would set staring at him, a puzzled frown on his face. The expression of a man who was trying desperately to remember. The spectators in the court leaned forward to catch a glimpse of him. They were so willing to believe the worst. So anxious to assume that the Duke was speaking the truth. But we had one friend, Dr. André Tessier. And when he was called to the stand, I noticed that David seemed to relax. You're Dr. André Tessier? I am. According to the court records, you first became acquainted with David Talbot in 1922. Yes, that's so. When he was brought to my hospital at Avignon. That was a few days after the wreck of the Paris Marseille Express. That was a great disaster when a train hit an open switch. We're familiar with the details, Monsieur. Proceed. Well, I examined him and I diagnosed his injuries as a spinoid fracture with an attendant subdural hemorrhage. One moment, please. Would the learner, Doctor, be kind enough to explain these scientific terms? Just what do they mean? For your information, Monsieur, they mean that his head had been cracked open like a ripe watermelon. Thank you. You are a psychoanalyst, Doctor. I am a physician, Monsieur, specializing in mental diseases and nervous disorders. My office is at 41 rue Torrance. Continue, Doctor. Continue. Yes, I will continue, indeed, I guess. David Talbot was very strong. In a few days he recovered consciousness, but I discovered that the damage to the brain was greater than I thought. It was complete amnesia. He knew nothing of his life up to the moment he awoke. Really, Doctor? And how did you know the patient brought was David Talbot? He was identified by whom? By the captain of a freighter who brought him from Martinique. Captain Maurice Durand. He died a year later in a wreck of Naragaska. Then only one man identified the patient, Doctor. David Talbot had never been in France before. There could be no one else. And that man is dead. Un-portunate, isn't it? Go on, Doctor. Under careful and prolonged treatment, David Talbot became normal in every respect except one. Memory. He still is cut off by a veil of blackness from that period of his life prior to 1922. Have you any further evidence to contribute, Doctor? No, there is nothing more to tell, except that during these years I became David Talbot's friend, as well as his physician. I know his soul as well as his brain. And to say that he is a criminal is rubbish. That is all, Doctor. The attorneys had not finished. They called another physician to the stand. A man who claimed that no case of amnesia could ever be proved genuine. The court listened and believed. Once again I saw the doubt across their faces. The newspapers had the story now. Monsieur Talbot has been mentioned as our next ambassador to Brazil. The people of France are entitled to know the background and character of their servant who aspires to a high place. Perhaps we shall learn something from Monsieur Talbot himself when he takes the stand this afternoon. David on the stand, his face was drawn in pain. His nerves drawn taut by the ordeal. But outwardly he seemed quite calm and confident. Monsieur Talbot, you have just told the court that the first time you ever saw the prisoner Le Duc was at the preliminary hearing. Yes, Monsieur le Président. Then what is your explanation of the death to which the prisoner refers? I have none. It's a fantastic piece of fiction. Monsieur Talbot, can you tell us where you were on the night of March the 27th, 1922? Of course. I wasn't the Marseille Paris Express. How long had you been in Marseille before boarding the train? Two days. I arrived from Martinique on the 25th. How do you know? How do I know? You heard Dr. Tessier testify that the captain of the freighter identified me. Yes, but I also heard Dr. Tessier testify that there was a veil between you and all that happened prior to March the 27th, 1922. That is correct. Then how may I ask, can you possibly remember having been in Marseille? Well, I... I don't remember. I was told. Oh, you were told. Then you will be kind enough to explain to the court if you can remember nothing prior to the accident. How can you remember that you do not owe one million francs to my client, Carlos Leduc? What is the point of the Defense Council statement? Only this. That we will prove that Jean Pelletier was also on that train. That David Talbot perished in the wreck and that the man brought to Dr. Tessier was not David Talbot, but Jean Pelletier. Silence! Silence! Sir Talbot, have you made any effort to trace your origin or to forge a link with your past? Monsieur le Président, I have made every effort. That I was aboard Captain Buons ship has been well established. He said I came aboard at Fort de France, Martinique. Three years ago, I went back there. I... I found nothing on the island that I could recognize. You found no relatives or friends who knew you before your accident? None. The name of Talbot was unknown in Martinique. It must be very disturbing to know nothing of your past. Well, not really. Not when one's present is so very crude. I assume you refer to your position in the Foreign Office. And to my wife. Monsieur le Président, may the state examine Monsieur Talbot, please. Of course. Monsieur Talbot, what are your duties at the Foreign Office? The gathering and correlation of information from our agents abroad. Are government funds allocated for that purpose? Yes. Do you know where those funds are kept? In my office, largely. Now, would you be betraying a government confidence in telling the court the extent of those funds? Well, it varies from 500,000 to as much as 5 million francs. These funds are in your hands? Yes. In other words, it is a position of great trust. I suppose so, yes. Thank you, Monsieur. Monsieur le Président, all this is quite beside the point. The clear fact that a witness occupies a position of trust is no proof of his integrity. Many criminals have occupied positions of trust for years before committing their embezzlement. Monsieur, I protest this. I've been summoned to this court as a witness for the state. The defendant's attorney is treating me as if I were the prisoner. Monsieur Talbot. I demand that he confine his examination to the really soon. Or that I be formally indicted and given an opportunity to defend myself. Your point is well made, Monsieur. The court will give it all due consideration. Next witness, please. Madame Lucienne Talbot. Madame Talbot, do you swear to speak without hatred, without fear, to give the whole truth and nothing but the truth? I do. Madame Talbot, when did you first meet your husband? Three years ago. At the home of the foreign minister, Monsieur de Val. At that time, were you aware that Monsieur Talbot was a victim of amnesia? Of course. It was no secret. And you have never had any reason to doubt your husband's identity? Why should I doubt his identity? He is my husband. I am proud to be his wife. Madame, tell me, have you any positive proof that your husband actually is David Talbot? Positive proof? No, I haven't. I see. Then the reason for your confidence is based on nothing more than the faith of a woman in love. Do you know a better reason, Monsieur? I... That will be all, Madame. Thank you. The trial dragged through another day. Following morning, a woman was brought to the court. As she passed, she didn't even glance at David, but the jurors turned and stared at him. She was tall and well-dressed and was very beautiful. We discovered later that her name was Michel Alain. And what is your occupation, mademoiselle? I'm a singer at the Serene Club. Mademoiselle Alain, do you know or did you know a man by the name of Jean Peltier? Yes. Where did you meet him? At the races. What was he doing? Gambling on the races. What else? You, uh, were in love with him? Yes. Mademoiselle, when did you last see Jean Peltier? On the night of March 27, 1922. Where? At the railway station at Marseille. What was he doing? He was boarding the Marseille Paris Express. And you never saw him again? No. Will Monsieur Talbot step forward, please? This way, Monsieur. Just stand right here. Thank you. Mademoiselle, who is this man? Come, please, come. He calls himself David Talbot, but who is he? He... he is... Well, the truth, please. He is Jean Peltier, the man you loved, isn't he? Yes. Yes, he is. I've never seen this woman in my life. The court will decide that. Be seated, Monsieur. Mademoiselle, can you tell us anything about Peltier that might identify him, a scar, a birthmark, some individual habit? No, no, nothing. Nothing peculiar about his hands? Why, no. Oh, yes. Yes, there was something. He always wrote with his left hand. Monsieur Talbot, with which hand do you write? I... I write with my left. Just a moment, please. There is a mistake. I must speak. Dr. Tessier, you have not been called a doctor. What sort of evidence is this? A left hand. Of course, David writes with his left hand. When he was brought to me, his right hand was crushed. Paralyzed. I taught him to write with his left hand. Your information will be weighed along with the other evidence. Please sit down. That afternoon, a note was given to the prosecutor returning. He glanced at it quickly and then brought it over to where we sat. When David had read the note, he looked up in a puzzled way and then handed it to me. It said, I have vital information bearing directly upon this case. I ask permission to present the evidence, documentary evidence pertaining to it. The note was signed, Henri Sarou. Your name? Henri Sarou. Occupation? Wine salesman. Give the testimony, please. Well, I... I've just recently arrived from Africa. On reading the papers about this case, I ran across the name of Jean Peltier. And immediately, I felt it was my duty to testify. You see, for many years, I've represented my firm in North Africa. Four years ago, I became ill. I was brought to the hospital in Sidi Belabis. In the bed next to me lay a man dying of fever. I felt sorry for the poor fellow. I talked to him. I gained his confidence. He told me his name in the story of his life. It was a pathetic story, monsieur. Bad friends, a woman, fevery. The usual rode down. Two nights later, he died. But you referred to documentary evidence. I did. I have his papers here, which the dying man gave me. His name was Jean Peltier. The trial was over. And the man with Duke sentenced to a year in prison. A week later, we gave a party, David and I, to celebrate the end of our travels. Darling. Yes? Te amo, ma querida. Oh, thank you, David. But what does it mean? Why, that's far too good. It means you are lovely. You are beautiful. I love you. That's a rough translation, of course. Oh, well, not so very rough. Pardon, monsieur. A gentleman has arrived. Oh, why, it's monsieur Sarou. Oh, how nice. Madame, I'm very happy to see you, monsieur. Oh, you're having guests. Please forgive my bad manners, and calling you such an awkward moment. Or at least have a glass of champagne. Well, I... Oh, please do. I can't impose on you like that. It's no imposition. Albert, another glass, please. We tried to look you up, but you're not in the phone book. I wish you'd found me, Madame. Paris is the wrong city in which to be alone. I'm sure of that. To your very good health, monsieur Sarou. Thank you. We are very deeply indebted to you. I wish there were some way we could express our gratitude. Oh, really, monsieur. Madame, to your happiness. Madame, monsieur Martin has arrived. Oh, you'll excuse me. Of course. I went to the door to greet our guest. As we stood there talking, I glanced back at David. I knew immediately that something was very wrong. David looked as if he had just received a blow on which Sarou was smiling. I could not hear what was said. I learned that long afterwards. I'm sorry, monsieur, but... What was it, you said? I said that I admired your nerve. But you called me zonk. And why not? That's your name. Jean Poitiers. At the British Commission, we'll hear Lana Turner and Pierre Omon at two of Crossroads. And now, greetings to our young friend Sally. May I ask what that paper is in your hand, Sally? Mr. Kennedy, I have written a poem. Well, well, Sally, that isn't like you. Must be because spring is right around the corner. Okay, go ahead, but be quick. But first have you heard this one. She's always in a lather. That's why your skin's so nice. Sally. It's a luck-so-plather, you see, Mr. Kennedy. Sally, either you read that poem right now or else. Well, it's called To The Ladies, and it goes like this. If you'd be pleased with your reflection in the mirror, lady, mind, just be sure that your complexion is a luxe one, smooth and fine. That's no poem. That's a jingle. There's another verse, though. If you want to be attractive, rouse the love-light in his eyes, use the lather that is active, give your skin a care that's wise. That's all, Mr. Kennedy. And now you can give a little prose talk on why luxe toilet soap cares wise. Well, then here's why, very briefly. Luxe toilet soap, you see, is made of only the finest ingredients. Its lather is luxurious, creamy. That's why it's right for delicate skin. Why it cleanses thoroughly, but very gently, too. Nine out of ten screen stars use luxe toilet soap daily. So why don't you try this gentle care for 30 days? Use it as screen stars do. Smooth lots of the creamy luxe soap lather well into your skin. Rinse with warm, then cold water, and dry with a soft towel. Do that several times a day, always at bedtime, and see what a difference it makes in your skin. It'll feel softer and smoother. Look lovelier, too. Get some fine white luxe toilet soap tomorrow. Now our producer, Mr. DeMille. Act two of Crossroads. Starring Lana Turner as Lucienne, and Pierre Omont as David Talbot. There are many things I can tell now that I didn't know at the time. When everything was over and I could bring myself to think of it again, I pieced the story together bit by bit, incident by incident. When Saru came to our house that night, I didn't know why. But I remember the look on David's face. I remember that they left the drawing room together. They went to the library on the floor above. We can talk here, Mr. Saru. Splendid, Jean. Why do you insist on calling me Jean? What's your game? It's no game. Why have you come here? What did you want? I want one million francs. Really? Why should I give you one million francs? Because you're a man with such a delicate past that to talk about it would cause you great embarrassment. You know, that was a wonderful moment in court when the defense attorney asked you, Mr. Talbot, where were you on the night of March 27, 1922? What would you have answered if he'd said, where were you that morning? That would be a difficult question, even for a man with a memory. Oh, yes, I forgot. You've lost your memory, haven't you? Please forgive me. Well, I haven't lost mine. I remember where I was that morning. I was in Marseille, and with my good friend Jean Peltier. It was a cold morning that March 27. I remember the old messenger wore ear muffs as he stepped out of the bank, carrying rather a large briefcase. He climbed into the taxi and ordered the taxi driver to take him to the Crédit Lyonnais Bank. What are you trying to tell me? I also remember that the taxi driver turned up a crooked little street, where, for no reason at all, the motor stopped. Suddenly, the old messenger had visitors. The doors on either side of him opened and two men stepped in. They ordered him to hand over the briefcase. But the old man was brazed. He decided to fight. So one of the men drew his gun and shot the old man squarely between the eyes, and he fell to the floor of the taxi. Oh, he was very, very dead. But then, of course, you don't remember. By the time the crowd had gathered, the two men had gone, and so had the briefcase, which contained two million francs. And the taxi driver, a man by the name of... What was it? Oh, yes. Le Duc. Le Duc, you mean? Yes. And when the police questioned him, he suddenly had a slight attack of amnesia? Yes. He couldn't remember that one of the men was myself and the other, the man with the gun, was you. You are lying. This is blackmail. Since natural, you should take that attitude. But it doesn't frighten me. Le Duc wasn't frightened either. He's now in prison. Le Duc is a bungler. I should never have entrusted him. Or Michelle, with such delicate business. I realized that during the trial. That's why I came to your rescue, my friend. At least Le Duc had the decency to accuse me of being a petty criminal. Now it seems I am also a murderer. You still don't remember, Jean? Oh, really now. Try hard. Don't you even remember the burn on the back of your left hand from the flashback of the gun? It was rather deep. Deep enough, I imagine, to leave a scar. May I see the back of your left hand? Get down with it. Oh, come now. Don't cover your hand. We're friends. At least we were friends, weren't we? Remember, we were supposed to meet you in Waterdam about three weeks after you killed the old man. But you never got there, Jean. You skipped, didn't you? And with our share, one million francs. I said get out. All right, my friend, I'll get out. It'll give you time to think things over. But please don't think too long. Because I may grow impatient. If I do, you'll hear from me. In some way or other. Good night, Jean. Give me the prefecture of police. Yes, I won't. No. Wait. Wait. Never mind, I'm sorry. It's a mistake. When I went to the library, I saw David sitting at the desk by the telephone. He was staring down the scar on the back of his left hand. It was a week later that I had a visitor. David was working late at the office, and Albert announced that a lady had come to see me. When I went downstairs, I recognized her at once. It was Michelle Elaine. The woman who testified at the trial. What do you mean? How do you do, madame Salvo? I hope you remember me. Yes, I remember you. May I sit down? Oh, please do. Thank you. I suppose you're wondering why I came. Well, I am rather surprised. Well, you see, I felt it only fair to you and to myself to justify what I did at the trial. You said my husband was Jean Peltier. Yes. I wonder if I can make you understand, madame. It must have happened to you, too. You're walking along the street, perhaps, or sitting in the park. Suddenly, your face appears. For the moment you think it's someone you know, you almost call out, and then... Well, all at once, the impression is gone. Well? Well, that's what happened in the court. It's been on my conscience ever since. My only excuse is that he was so much like Jean Peltier. Hey, madame, I have Jean's picture in this locket. I've kept it for years. Look, madame. Why, that's... Well, that's almost... You see? You see how closely your husband resembles him? Yes. They are very much alike. Oh, the locket, please, madame. Oh, I'm sorry. Here, thank you. Well, I'll go now, but I felt I owed you a personal apology. Well, you're very kind. I'm sorry your husband wasn't at home, but perhaps we'll meet again sometime. I'm at the Sirene Club. Maybe you'll drop by some evening. Well, thank you. Please come. I should like to show him the picture, too. Will you have some more coffee, darling? I think there's still some left. Thanks. I think I'll take a little cognac. Cognac? But, David, you never drink cognac? No, I just feel I'd like it tonight, that's all. Oh, busy day, darling? Yes, very. Well, come and sit down next to me, and I'll tell... Come and sit down next to me, and tell me all about it. Did we have our usual cabinet crisis? David? Oh, I'm sorry. Oh, what's wrong, David? Is there something worrying you? Oh, no, no, I was just thinking. What were you seeing, dear? Oh, I just asked if we had our usual cabinet crisis today. No, no, we have them only on Fridays now. Oh, I forgot. You know, darling, sometimes I sit here at home, feeling sort of useless and unnecessary. Then I think of you and how important your work is, and I think, well, I'm his wife, and if he's important, so am I. And then my ego's all fixed up. You are very nice, including your ego. What was that? Well, just the front door, darling. Oh, I see what it is. Well, Albert will answer it. No, it's all right. I don't mind. Excuse me, dear. He was gone for just a moment. When he came back to the room, he was putting something in his pocket. It looked like a clipping from a newspaper. Nothing. I must leave at once. Something had just come up at the office. I won't be very late. At least I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't wait up for me. Make yourself comfortable. I want to see Saru. Do you? He must have been getting his messages. I received one tonight. Oh yes, yes, the newspaper clipping. He told me. The times of March 27, 1922. Bank robbers, slay messenger, escaped with two million francs. He has a sense of humor, hasn't he? I find it a bit morbid. Did your wife tell you about the picture in my locket? Yes. Yes, I thought she would. Look, Jean, do you remember when this was taken? No. No, I do not. No, but it is you, isn't it? A little younger, of course. A bit more handsome, Jean. Where is Saru? What do you want him for? I want to talk to him. You can talk to me. All right. Every shred of decency I have tells me I shouldn't do this. But I'll give you a check for 50,000 francs. 50,000? Oh, no, sir. Besides, checks make Saru nervous. I can give him cash. Oh, but not that kind of cash, Jean. Not 50,000 francs. No. Let's understand each other. At the moment you have a certain nuisance value. That's worth just so much to me. But don't make the mistake of assuming I believe this peltier story. Why, you think? For 13 years you've lived a lie, Jean. You fooled your wife, your friends, and even your country. You must have known that someday we'd meet again. What makes you think you can fool me? I see I've made a mistake coming here. Good night. Wait. You're forgetting something, Jean. Saru got you into that courtroom. Well, he can put you back into it again. But before he does, you'd better provide for those you'll leave behind. It's, uh, not going to help your case. When the court hears you've let your own mother live like a pauper. I have no mother. Oh, no? Well, then go down to the slums. Go to 19 Rue Blanchot and see a ghost. Yes? What is it, please? Madame, may I come in, please? Well, I'm an old woman. I receive no visitors. The hour is late. Madame, I'm in trouble. I need your help. Yes, I see. Come in. Won't you sit down, monsieur? Madame, I have a strange question to ask. Yes, monsieur? Do you know me? Yes, I know you. From the trial, of course, I followed it very closely. Oh. I saw your picture in the papers. I was so relieved when it was over. Why were you relieved? You were in trouble. Ah, Madame Peltier, do you have a son? When he was little, oh, he was a gay one. Always busy as a bumblebee. They grow up so soon. Have you a picture of him? No. No, I had never had a picture of him. Would you say there was any resemblance between your son and me? Some might think so, yes. But to a mother. I couldn't be your son. My son is dead. Everyone knows my son is dead. Why don't they leave the dead alone? I'm sorry. I'm an old woman and I need peace. It's late, monsieur. I must ask you to leave. All your shoes, they're wet. It's nothing. But it's a bad night. You should wear your rubbers. You'll take cold. Madame, I... I hesitate to mention this, but if you have any need of money... Oh, no. No, please. Good night. Good night, Madame. Wait. Just let me look at you. Just for one more moment. Madame. Have no fear. Goodbye. And may heaven take you. My son. Madame! Madame, open the door! Open the door! Yes? Are you still awake, darling? I thought you'd be asleep for hours. Oh, I couldn't sleep. I was so worried about you. You were worried? Why, dear? Well, I... I didn't think you'd be gone so long. I... I called the office, David. Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, but you know what happened. I never got to the office. As I was going into the building, I met one of our men. He just returned from Brazil. So we went around to the club and got talking, and I had no idea it was so late. Oh, David. Oh, darling, I love you so much. Don't ever leave me. Go on, Lucien. What else has you worried? Well, there are so many things, Andre. You're his friend and his doctor. That's why I've come to you. I'm your friend, too. Now, what else? Well, this morning, after David left for the office, it all came back to me again. Maybe Saru's visit that night meant nothing, and maybe Madame Elaine really meant to apologize for what she did in court. But, David, he's... Well, he's so different. He's so changed, Andre. Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of. Your nerves have had a shock, Lucien. You went through the trial so beautifully. Never once did you let anyone see those little pangs of doubt that must have stabbed at your heart. It was a strain, my dear, but that's all past now. There's no doubt any longer, is there? Andre, it's so strange. What is? I love him very much, Andre. There's nothing that can happen to that love. Nothing. And it would make no difference, even if... even if I knew he was Jean Pelletier. Lucien. We pause now for station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. In just a few moments, Mr. Turner and Pierre O'Mont will return in Act 3 of Crossroads. Why, Sally, you look very excited. I am excited, Mr. Kennedy, because now is the time we're going to tell everyone about our wonderful Luxe and Luxe toilet soap offer. Go right ahead, Sally. It's real springtime news we've got tonight. It's news about flowers, throwing news. Just think. For only 10 cents and a Luxe opening tab or a Luxe toilet soap wrapper, you get six large packets of flower seeds. The first quality from one of America's leading seed houses. The kind of flowers that are easy to grow and that everyone loves. Exactly what kinds are they, Sally? Well, there are surely poppies, doubles and singles in scarlet and pink. Candy-tuffed, wonderful for borders or window boxes, and cosmos and white, pink, crimson and purple. You know, cosmos bloomed to late fall in a perfect for cutting, and goodness me, Mr. Kennedy, I'm out of breath. Well, I'll come to your rescue, Sally. There are also morning glories called heavenly blue, and you'll find them well-named. Then there are marigolds in vivid shades of gold and lemon yellow. And last but not at all least, there are zinnias called Dahlia flower giants because they give big bushy blooms in almost every vivid color you can imagine. And here's a very important fact. All these six packets of seeds have been specially treated with plant hormones for bigger, earlier flowers. Yes, Mr. Kennedy, these seeds are truly exceptional, and they've been chosen to give you a garden of blossoms that will flower from early summer till frost. Have borders of them around your victory vegetable garden, too. And if you don't have space for a real garden, you can plant gorgeous window boxes with the candy-tuffed and marigolds and morning glories. Now, here's what you do to get your six packets of seeds. Send 10 cents and either a luxe toilet soap wrapper or an opening tab from a box of luxe flakes to Luxe Flower Garden, Box One, New York City, together with your name and address. You can get a handy order blank from your dealer if you wish. For additional seeds, be sure to enclose another dime and either another luxe soap wrapper or another luxe flakes opening tab for each extra set desired. Planting instructions are on the back of each packet. Act quickly, for you must allow two to three weeks for seeds to reach you, and this offer will not be good after May 31st. I'll repeat the address. Luxe Flower Garden, Box One, New York City. Be sure to wrap coins securely and write name and address plainly. No stamps, please. This offer is good only in the United States. Now, Mr. DeMille returns to the microphone. In real life, the arrow mount is on the brink of another great adventure. We'll tell you about that after the play. Now, here's the third act of Crossroads, starring Lana Turner and Pierre Oman. What I had told Dr. Tessier was true. It made no difference what David had done. I loved him. I loved him as David Talbot or as Jean Pelletier. And I would have given anything to help him, no matter what it meant. Well, he must have known how I felt. That's why he decided that he must run away. Lucienne! Lucienne, where are you? In here, darling. Oh, David, aren't you ready yet? We're going to be late at the devours. Yes, I know. Here, look, darling. I have a surprise for you. See? David, our passport? Yes, we are catching the morning plane at Le Gorge. Is it Brazil? Have you been appointed? Well, it isn't exactly official. But I think that privately, you may address me as Monsieur l'ambassadeur. Oh, won't it be wonderful? Darling, just think. Two whole weeks alone on shipboard. Can't we go somewhere and celebrate? Do we have to go to that party? You must, dear. I start to tell you, I just called Martin at the office. He's asked me to help him, and, well, he's done it for me so often that I couldn't refuse him. Well, what can I tell Madame de Valle? It's so late. That's all right. You run along, and I'll join you there later. About eleven? All right. And afterwards we'll do every night spot in the town, from Syros to Maxime's. All right? Yes, darling. Don't say anything about Brazil to de Valle. We must be very surprised when he tells us. Oh, David, I'll swoon. Good. Now you run along. All right. I hate to go without you. See you. I shall miss you, too. But it's only until eleven. Yes. Good night, dear. Good night, David. I'll be waiting. Hello? Hello, Jean? Who is this? This is Sarou. Now listen carefully, Jean, and please don't interrupt. All that you are not catching that plane tomorrow. If you try, I shall have the police and Lee Bourget to help change your client. Listen. Don't interrupt tonight, Jean. Come to the club's terrain at ten o'clock with one million francs. And if you don't, I'm afraid you'll find yourself behind bars in the morning. I warned you I might draw impatient. Good night, Jean. Hello. Hello. Sit down, Jean. You're late. I got here as soon as I could. Did you bring the money? I've been trying to get it. A man can't just go to his friends and ask them for a million francs. Then you didn't bring the money? No. You have a very devoted wife. She has jewels. How simple. Can I go to my wife and say, Darling, I am a murderer. Please let me have a million francs. I can. I can say just that. Madame, your husband's a murderer. Just a small loan. Would you mind? Oh, come now, please. There's no sense wasting any more time. Sarou, I want to get you the money. I do anything to have this nightmare off my neck. Believe me, it hasn't been easy for me. Sitting up there in my office handling large sums for the government. Oh, yes. Michel, he handles large sums of money for the government. Go on, Jean. That money isn't mine. That's a thrust from the Republic. Oh, please, no vulgar appeals to our patriotism. No, this is business. Don't you see that they'd know in a minute the safety's in my office. I'm the only one who has a key. Jean, you've forgotten a lot of things you used to know very well. I don't know what you mean. Oh, come now. A man goes to his own office where he has a perfect right to be. While he's opening the safe, he's attacked. Bound and gag. The next morning, he's found by the child woman. The safe has been rifled, but you are completely innocent. You go back to your own life, your career, your wife, Brazil. What... What guarantee have I that this is the end? We'll disappear. You will never hear of this again. What about the... the picture, the luggage? You can have that just as soon as we get the money. Shall we leave now for your office? Yes. I'm ready. 11 o'clock came and David had still not arrived at the devouts. At 12, I left the house. I called a cab and drove to his office. Just as the car pulled up to the curb, I saw David entering the building. There were two people with him. Saru, Michelle, Arlene. I paid the driver and waited for a moment undecided. Then I went into the building. The night watchman was there, but he recognized me and let me up the stairs to David's office. When I got there, it was pitch black, but I saw a light flash near the safe. There they were, the three of them. The safe opened, money on the floor. I stood there hardly breathing, and then, without even knowing what I did, I cried out to him, David! Wait, Michelle. Hold the light. It's a woman. David, no, David, don't do it. Don't please don't, David. There's nothing else to do. Oh, but there is. There must be. You're frightened now. I know you are, but I'll be with you. We'll face it together. But can't you see I won't let you do it? I'll tell the police. Oh, no. I leave here with the money or I'll call the police. You can be the judge, madam. Why do you suppose I'm doing this? Would you prefer to see me and the guillotine? Well, what do you want me to do? Help us tie him up. Then you find him robbed, gagged, tied in a chair. The perfect alibi. You give us a chance to get out of here and you can scream as loud as you like, all right? Yes. But remember, you... Wait. Did you hear something? No. I did. Saru. There's someone in the outer office. I saw a shadow. Get the money out this way. The police. The police. Michelle, quick. Don't move. Don't move or we'll shoot. The back way. Hurry. The shot had gone wild, but Saru stood frozen in his tracks. The building was surrounded and there was no escape. They took us to the office at the commissaire of police. Madame Talbot, I hesitate to enter your name in the police book. All front snows your family. Monsieur, my wife has nothing to do with this. I came to my office tonight quite by accident. So you have said, monsieur, now, Michelle Alain, that is your true name, mademoiselle. Yes. Tell me, do you recognize these two men and this lady? Come now, come. You were a witness at the Leduc Trial where Arnais Saru presented the evidence which proved that this gentleman was not a criminal named Jean Peltier. Wait, please. There's no sense going on with this. I am Jean Peltier. David. What's that? On March 27, 1922, I was involved in the robbery of a bank messenger. Oh, don't listen to him. I was also involved in his murder. It isn't true. David, you don't know what you're saying. I do, Jean. Monsieur, you must ignore my husband's statement. It was brought out at the trial that he has amnesia. He can't remember anything that happened before waking up in that hospital. And this murder, this murder was the morning before the Paris Marseille train was wrecked. Is this true, monsieur? Yes. And how do you know you were involved in this robbery and murder? I was told. By whom? By my accomplice in the crime. Henry Sarouk. No, wait. I can't go on knowing that I helped to murder a man, Sarouk. I can't live with it any longer. It doesn't, you told me. I've been tortured by the thought. No, listen to me, Sarouk. I beg of you. And you too, Michel. Let's confess everything and throw ourselves on the mercy of the state. What? Mademoiselle Alain was connected with the crime? Yes. At that time, monsieur, she and I were, well, we were not and just friends, as you can see from this locket. May I have it, please, Michel? It was she who drove me to the station after the murder. No. I never saw this man. Not until the day I testified in court. Shut up. Henry, this is murder. You want to go to the guillotine? We have nothing to do with murder. I'll do the talking. You've talked too much already. That's why we're here. The perfect black male crime. It couldn't fail, you said. Shut up, you fool. I won't shut up. Well, he's not Jean Peltier. Peltier was killed in the wreck of the Paris Marseille Express. David. No, I'm... Sarouk and Edith went to the hospital after the wreck. They found Peltier among the dead. While they were there, they also learned that one of the survivors, Monsieur Talbot, was suffering from amnesia. And you waited all these years to blackmail me? He waited until you had something to lose. He planned everything. Even that picture in the locket. It's a fake. A superimposure. Well, Monsieur Talbot, I think we've heard all we need to hear. Henri Sarouk, Michel Alain, I hereby order you to stand trial and decree that you be remanded to prison until such time as you were tried by the state. But it was his idea, I tell you. Sarouk! Come along. You hysterical fool. Hysterical? Just wait till you hear me at the trial. Well, Monsieur Talbot, you certainly took a desperate chance. Oh, not really, Monsieur. I knew I wasn't Peltier. David, I don't understand. Was it you who called the police? Of course, darling. But if you knew you weren't Peltier... I didn't know it until tonight. When you left me at home, I felt it was the end of the world. After Sarouk called, I stood looking at our passport pictures, remembering, and then... then something reminded me of this picture and the look. But they weren't the same? Well, for all practical purposes, yes. But do you remember once, just after we were married, Henri Tessier was at the house, we were talking about why I combed my hair on the right side. Yes, I remember. Tessier said when he came to the hospital, it was combed on the left. But your hair had been cut right along the part. And to cover the scar, you had to change the part to the right side. Yes, now look, darling. This picture on the left is supposed to have been taken before the accident. Look at it carefully, dear. What's wrong with it? Oh, of course. The part's on the right side. Exactly. Well, then you knew that this picture must have been taken after the accident. Oh, darling, you're wonderful. When you phoned me tonight and told me to send the police, I thought you'd go out of your mind. Oh, setting the part was easy enough. The problem was how to get Saru into it. Well, how did you do it, David? By two simple little words. Government funds. It took the bait at one gull. Oh, my David, you handle the Brazilian Embassy as well as you've handled this. I'll be very proud of you. In here, madame. Let me go. Let me go. What's the meaning of this? Oh, it's you, monsieur. Good evening, mother. We've had this woman investigated. She is an actress permanently out of work. A friend of Saru's, of course. Why have they brought me here? Monsieur'd tell them they shouldn't disturb an old woman in the middle of the night. Mother, I'm afraid you are a dead pigeon. I don't understand. All I ask is my solitude. That's what you're going to get, madame. Ten years of it. Take her out. Come along, madame. Let me go. Let me go. Lucien. Oh, David. Did I tell you today that I love you? Well, David, remember where we are. But darling, how can I? I have amnesia. A curtain falls on Crossroad. And we are very glad that the paths of Lana Turner and Pierre Armand crossed at this microphone tonight. Thank you, Mr. DeMille. Well, how do you like the Lux Radio Theatre, Pierre? Wonderful, Lena. Now I'll go home and see what my father says. Oh, is he your severe critic? Well, you see, my father was a picture producer when we lived in France, and I think he was listening tonight. Oh, well, you're the first producer, son. I know who took a back seat. No, he's on the right end of the business. Let me know what your father thinks about production, Pierre. I will, sir. And I'd like to thank you now for the welcome you have given me here. You really were very, very kind to me. Oh, that is nothing. Nothing unusual, Pierre. You don't think Lana Turner is unusual? Um, how did I get into this? I think she's beautiful. She is more than that. She is many-fict. Oh, well, you've got me there. Oh, you're just saying that because I use Lux soap. I wonder if every girl knows that Lux soap is a grand way to care for her complexion. Well, you're living proof of that, Lana. Now I must tell our audience that Pierre O'Mont will not be with us in Hollywood very much longer. After he finishes his next picture, he leaves Hollywood to join his countrymen at the front. Those comrades of his and ours who are fighting for the cause of the United Nations. We wish you all the luck in the world, Pierre. Thank you. Thank you, everyone. What is your play next week, Mr. Domingue? Well, I have a telegram here that tells the whole story. It reads, accept with pleasure, invitation for clam-bake and corn roast in Lux Radio Theatre next Monday night. In view of mileage rationing, please send camel to pick us up on road to Paramount. And it's signed, Bane Crosby and Bob Hope. And the play, ladies and gentlemen, well, what else could it be but the road to Morocco? Bane Crosby and Bob Hope will be... will bring us their... their greatest co-starring screen success next week. And with them, we'll present Ginny Sims. Well, I know what I'll be doing next Monday. The same thing as this whole audience. Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night, Ron. Au revoir, Pierre. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Toilet Soap, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Bane Crosby and Bob Hope and Ginny Sims in The Road to Morocco. This is Cecil B. DeMiro saying good night to you from Hollywood. Heard in tonight's play were Bradley Page as Saru, Paula Winslow as Michelle and Norman Field, Regina Wallace, Victor Rodman, Cliff Clark, Leo Cleary, Charlie Lung, Fred Mackay and Ferdinand Mounier. Our Lux Radio Theatre production of Crossroads has come to you with the good wishes of the makers of Lux Toilet Soap, the beauty care that 9 out of 10 Hollywood stars use to help keep their complexions beautifully clear and smooth. Our music was directed by Louis Silvers and this is your announcer, John M. Kennedy, reminding you to tune in next Monday night to hear Bane Crosby, Bob Hope and Ginny Sims in The Road to Morocco. Why should food rationing and shortages worry me? I know how to get vitamins and minerals for my family. I just buy VIMS and add them to my ration meals. A great idea. For VIMS give you all the essential vitamins that all minerals commonly lacking. They're a pleasant to take too. Children love them. Ask for VIMS at your druggist. V-I for vitamins. Double M-S for minerals. VIMS. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.