 Lipton Tea and Lipton Soup present Inner Sanctum Mystery. Good evening, gentle friends of Inner Sanctum. Welcome through the creaking door for another soothing half hour of sweetness and life. Oh, I've learned a new trick. Would one of you like to step up here and be soared in half? What? No volunteer? Well, maybe you're right. The first part, the sawing in half, that's easy, but the second part, the putting together again, I'm still not very good at that. Mr. Host, how can you joke about such things? Are you trying to get our listeners in a mood for enjoying themselves? That's it, Mary. Well, jokes like that certainly won't put people in a good mood. Here's a much better way to do it. Just serve folks a piping hot cup of Lipton Tea, and they'll be in a good mood in a minute. For Lipton's is the password to pleasure. It's tea at its delicious best. Thanks to Lipton's brisk flavor. Brisk, you know, is the tea expert's old word for the fresh, lively, full-bodied flavor of Lipton Tea. Unlike ordinary, dull-tasting teas, Lipton's is never flat. It's always spirited and satisfying. Try it real soon and get the extra enjoyment of Lipton's wonderful brisk flavor. What does a man think of when there's murder in the air? The close presence of death. Does it have matter and substance? Does it generate unseen light waves that touch a man's subconscious or unheard sound waves that speak to him when he sleeps? Well, let's listen to I Walk in the Night, written by Amel Teveman, with Larry Haynes, the role of Peter Lang, to tell you the story himself. I don't know if it was the ringing of the doorbell that awoke me, driving me back to consciousness out of a deep, heavy sleep. I felt groggy as if I'd been drugged. My eyes were so heavy, so hard to keep open. That infernal ringing, I stumbled out into the hall. Mernersville, my wife, they are opposite mine. I knew the door would be locked. We'd quarreled last night while the Jetsons were visiting from the house next door. Merners made a scene. She went to a room and locked herself in. Please, please wake up in there! As I stumbled down the hall of the front door, I recognized Phil Jetsons' voice. Phil and Henrietta lived in the house next door just across the lawn. All right. All right, I'm coming. Just a minute. Can't get this open. Oh, thank heaven you woke up, Peter. I thought you'd never hear me. What's wrong, Phil? What's that poker for? Henrietta saw a prowler come out of this house. A prowler? What's the matter with you, Pete? You look groggy. Wake up. I don't know. I feel as if I'd been doped. What's this about prowler? Henrietta saw him climbing out of Merners' window. She yelled at me and I grabbed the poker and came running out. A poker? What was it? What's the matter with you? Didn't you hear me? A man was in Merners' room just now. Great Scott. Merners alone in there. Come on. Merners. Merners, are you all right? Open the door. She doesn't answer. Phil, are you sure the prowler came out of this room? Yes. They ran around the house and got away. Look, Pete, have you got a key to this door? Oh, it's bolted on the inside. We've got to break it down. Come on. Put your shoulder to it. Once more now. Where's the light switch? Oh, here. Here, I've got it. Better not come in, Pete. Oh, let me in. I've got to see. Take it easy, Pete. Oh, burn it. Strangle to death. Burn it. Look at the black and blue marks on the throat. This chain on the neck, it's broken. It was her locket. The one I gave her last Christmas. The killer must have taken it with him. And see here, her fingernails, there's bits of skin under them. She must have struggled and scratched the killer's face, her hands. Why, Phil? Why should anyone want to kill her? Then began the long torture of the investigation. Detective swarming over the house. Men and derby hats examining the body of my wife, measuring the Rome searching for fingerprints. And finally, more men who came and carried her away forever. Throw it all, Phil, and Henrietta sat with me, trying to give what comfort they could. Oh, Peter dear, please talk to us. I can't stand seeing you sit there with your head in your hands. It won't bring Murna back to life. Henrietta's right, Pete. You've got to get a hold of yourself. I know. I know, but I can't stop thinking about it. Those marks on the throat, the torn chain, the locket pawn. Look here, Pete, there's something we have to talk about. Now, get that dazed look off your face and listen to me for a minute. Yes, yes, Phil. There's a police inspector in Murna's room right now. O'Brien is his name. He'll be coming in soon to question you. Now, you'd better not tell him about the quarrel you had with Murna last night. I don't get you. It would look bad for you. For me? Oh, well, what do you mean? Phil, you don't say that I... Suddenly I caught my breath. My right hand in my bathrobe pocket had touched something cold. Phil and Henrietta both stared at me. Peter, what's wrong? Phil, Phil, look what I found in my pocket. What is it? Look, a locket. It's Burnett's locket. The one that was torn from my throat. Phil, Phil, how could this get in my pocket? Here, give me that quick. What, Phil? Give it to me. Presidents, Murna's locket all right. You'll recognize it, Henrietta. Yes. What are you going to do with it, Phil? Get rid of it quick. Out this open window. Now, if the police find it out there, they'll think the killer dropped it. But Phillip was in my pocket. What are you looking at, Phil? Your hand, Pete. What? Your left hand. I looked down at my left hand. There are my wrists. Those three long gashes where the skin had been scraped, as if by the fingernails of a woman fighting for her life. Phil, do you think I could have killed it? Nonsense. I don't believe it. You could never do a thing like that, Pete. Good night. How can you be sure? How can I be sure? Peter, please, don't talk like that. You're making yourself out some terrible monster, but you aren't. Phil and I know you can't be like that. I don't know. Maybe I got up in my sleep and killed Mano without ever knowing it consciously. After all, I did have that quarrel with the last night. Cut it, Pete. Here comes O'Brien, the detective. I hope I'm not intruding. Oh, no. It's all right, Inspector. Come in, O'Brien. Mr. Lang is very upset. The shock. Harris, I understand. Believe me, Mr. Lang, you have my deepest sympathy. I wouldn't bother you at all to turn like this, but... Inspector O'Brien was a pink-cheeked, cherub-faced, chubby little man, but his eyes were cold and blue and restless. He kept jumping from Phil to Henrietta to me as he fired his questions at us. Mr. Lang, one more thing. I understand you had a small party here last night. Oh, no, no. It wasn't a party. It was just Phil and Henrietta and Ted Hale. Ted Hale? He has met his cousin. Oh, I see. This Ted Hale, her cousin of your wife, she said. Pardon me, Inspector. Yes, Mr. Johnson. Peter is too easygoing and good-natured to tell you about Ted Hale. As Peter's attorney, it's my duty to give you certain information. Ah, go ahead. My name, Mrs. Lang, owned a considerable property in her own right. Recently, I drew a will at her request. In it, she leaves a sizable sum to Ted Hale. Aha. Oh, I... I just thought of something. What is it, Henrietta? Well, Peter was so groggy when he woke up. That's right. He looked as if he'd been drugged. Well, don't you remember last night? Ted Hale went in the kitchen to mix the last round of drinks. Oh, Henrietta, that's ridiculous. On the contrary, it's quite important. Now, tell me, this Ted Hale, what does he do for a living? Well, he works for me and my brokerage office. To please matter, I gave him a job as my confidential secretary. Ah, I suppose you tell me where Mr. Ted Hale lives. I think I'll have a talk with him. Now, all you have to do, Pete, is sit tight. Let O'Brien follow up his lead. Phil, I can't let him address Ted Hale. He didn't kill Myrna. I did. I must have the locket. He scratches. It's not fair to Ted. As your attorney, I won't let you strap yourself in the electric chair. You go back to your room and get some sleep. Henrietta, do you mind going back to our house by yourself? Of course not. I'm going to sleep right here in the living room on this couch, in case Peter needs me tonight. On my bed in the dark, I kept seeing a thousand pictures. Myrna, her face modeled with strangulation. Phil, always so sure of himself. Henrietta, worried and frightened. And O'Brien, his face grim and his blue eyes cold. Going off to question Ted Hale. I must have been close to dozing off when I heard the doorbell faintly, as if in a dream. I tossed about in bed for a moment or two. And then I heard the voices in the living room. Phil's cold and harsh. And someone else's, loud and angry and frightened. I got out of bed and opened the door. I went down the hall to the living room. I had to know who was in there arguing with Phil. It was Ted Hale. Ted, what are you doing here? Phil phoned me. He told me about Myrna. I called him up, told him O'Brien would be coming for him. I suggested he come over here and talk it over with me. Pete, don't let them arrest me. You've got to help me. Me? Help you? You know I didn't kill Myrna. Well, I'm not sure. Pete, what? I was here last night, you know. When you had that fight with Myrna? What do you mean? If I'm arrested, it says I had a motive. But what about you, Pete? You were always quarreling with Myrna. Now, look here, Ted, if you're threatening me... I only want you to help me, Pete. Don't let them arrest me. Hide me. Hide me out till this blows over or until they get the real killer. I think Ted is right, Pete. We should help them. But where? I'll handle it. You have a dark room fixed up in the cellar, haven't you? Yes. We'll stick a cart in the air and let Ted hold up for a day or two. Nobody will think of looking for him in this house. Poor Peter. Seems to be in a daze half the time. Yes, his trouble is that when he's awake, he's half asleep, and when he's asleep, he's half awake. And I wonder he can't sleep well. He seems to be such an honest person, he can't lie easy. You know, it's too bad he doesn't go over and stay at Phil's house, Mr. Host. Phil and Henrietta seem the kind of people who do everything to make him comfortable. Well, I just hope they know something about hospitality, Mary. Oh, I'm sure they do. Why, everybody knows that the proper way to treat guests is to serve them something delicious. For example, when guests drop in at my house, the first thing I do is put on the tea kettle. And almost before they have their wraps off, I have my best tea service out, and I'm serving them some of my fragrant fresh-made cake and a cup of heartwarming Lipton tea. For no matter what time of day or night guests arrive, there's nothing like wonderful Lipton tea to make them relax and feel at home. Yes, Lipton's brisk flavor is so lively and full-bodied and satisfying, it just naturally hits the spot with everybody. In fact, I always say whenever you want to serve your friends or your family a grand, refreshing drink, make it tea. And make it tea at its delicious best, Lipton tea. Now, let's get back to our sleepwalker. There's no telling what he might have done while we were talking about tea. Now, let's see, where were we? Peter and Phil were going to hide Ted Hale in the cellar. Now, listen to me carefully, Peter. If Ted Hale is arrested and talks, or Brian will learn about the quarrel you had with Myrna last night, he'll start digging into things that won't look so good for him. No, Phil, wait. And I know you're trying to help me, but if I did it... If I did kill Myrna, then he was trying to protect me. It isn't right. I'm a dangerous man. But you can't brush it off like that. Do you know what it means to lie awake in the night wondering whether you've killed your own wife, wondering whom I'll kill next? Cut that out. We've got business to attend to. Now, here's my plan. We'll let Ted stay here tomorrow. And then tomorrow night, I'll smuggle him out of the country, get him passage on a freighter to South America. You think he'll go? Sure, he'll go. He's scared stiff. But we'll need money, lots of money. Now, how much have you got in the safe at the office? About 10,000 cash, but there's a batch of negotiable bonds. They'll do. I'll get down to the office the first thing in the morning and get them out of the safe. You had the combination? Yes, you gave it to me when you gave me your power of attorney. Remember? Well, yes. Now, don't you worry about a thing. Oh, here, take this powder. It's just one of the bromides that Henrietta uses will help you get to sleep. By tomorrow morning, everything will be fixed up. Fine. It was almost dawn when Phil left. And it must have been hours later, close to noontime, when I felt myself being roughly shaken out of a heavy, troubled sleep. Pete, Pete, wake up. What? Hey, wake up. Come on, snap out of it. Oh, Phil, gosh, I feel groggy. What was in that powder you gave me? Never mind the powder. Get your eyes open. I've got something to tell you. Phil, what's wrong? What happened? Listen to me carefully, Pete. I went down to the office before business hours this morning and opened the safe to get the money out. Yes? The safe is empty. Empty? The securities are gone. Well, it can't be. Who else had the combination besides you and me? Only Ted Hale. Oh, do you think that... I'll bet you a dollar to a donut is gone. Come on, let's check. Look, Pete, there's a light in the dark room. You must have got up early and beat me to it to the safe. Ted, you in there? Always the optimist, huh? Come on, open it up. Ted! Good heavens. Ted Hale hadn't gone anywhere. He was lying there on the cut. His head was a bloody pulp. It had been bashed in while he slept with a long-handled cold shovel which lay there alongside the cut. Great Scott. He's been murdered. We stood there in a narrow dark room, Phil and I, and we looked at each other. There was a strange gleam in Phil's eyes. I tried to read the meaning of that gleam, but he averted his eyes too quickly. He dropped his gaze to my hands. I saw what he was looking at. My hands were black and grimy with cold dust. And on the brimy, cold blackened handle of the shovel, it was a fresh set of fingerprints. Phil, did I kill him? Did I kill him in my sleep? The same as Merna? Phil, I can't stand it being a murderer. I'm going to get myself up. You'll do nothing of a kind. If you did it, Pete, you're not responsible. But you do think I did it. And Merna too? I don't know. I don't know what to say. Just think, Phil. Maybe tonight I might kill you or Henrietta. There's no telling what I might do. No, no, Phil. It's hard to believe, but there's the proof I'm a murderer. I'm dangerous. There's only one thing to do. I won't let you do it. What else is left? Come on. I'm going to help you hide Ted's body. How much further, Phil? Oh, there it is. There's the bridge up ahead. Okay. Help me with it. Okay. We had the body of Ted Hale in a sack with a pair of hundred-pound dumbbells to weight it down. Merna's funeral took place the next morning, and I had to endure the condolences of friends and business associates. But Phil and Henrietta stood by me all through it. It'll be over soon, Peter. Then you can rest. Keep your chin up. I'll get rid of the stragglers. Look, look who just came in. Where? Inspector O'Brien. What does he want, Phil? Take it easy. Take it easy. Let me do the talking. I came to pay my respects, Mr. Lang. Oh. Well, thank you, Inspector. No trace of Ted Hale, is there, Inspector? I'm afraid not, Mr. Judson. I'm combing the city for him, but I'm afraid he's got clean away. You see, it was marvelous to see how calmly Phil could toss to O'Brien about Ted Hale. Knowing all the time just where the body was under that bridge. I glanced at Henrietta. She was watching Phil, too. You know what I think, Mr. Judson? I think Ted Hale will never be caught. I have a very funny feeling that he's dead. Later that afternoon, I took a taxi cab, and I went down to police headquarters and asked to see Inspector O'Brien. Glad to see you, Mr. Lang. You're looking a little better this afternoon. I feel better, Inspector. I feel better because I've come to an important decision. Oh, yeah? Inspector, I've decided to tell you something that'll startle you. That's pretty hard to startle an old hand in my business. Go ahead, I'm listening. All right. Inspector, Ted Hale didn't kill Mona. I killed her. That is, I think I killed her. You think you killed her? Don't you know? Sounds crazy, doesn't it, but I assure you, I'm perfectly safe. Just a second now. You either killed her or you didn't kill her. If you killed somebody, you know it. No, not in this case, Inspector. You see, I think I did it in my sleep both times. Mona and Ted Hale, too. Hold on now. I'll get someone to take notes. I suppose you start in the beginning. I told him the whole story. How Philip awakened me. And we found Manor strangled. A groggy drug feeling I'd had. Ted Hale had tried to blackmail me. And how Philip awakened me once more and we'd gone down to the cellar and found Ted with his head bashed in. I talked for a solid hour. I'm glad you came to see me, Mr. Lang. Glad you told me all this. You must have had a hard time reaching a decision to come here. Yes, it was hard, Inspector. Phil wanted me to go away. It would have been so easy to go away and let him take care of things. But I'd never be able to sleep if you had killed someone else. Well, you needn't worry, Mr. Lang. There won't be any more killings. Not if I'm safely in jail. You're not going to jail. You're going home. What? And those notes the stenographer has taken, Mr. Lang. I've almost enough material to convict the real murder. I need just one more thing. Now, you go home and wait. Don't worry. You mean I didn't kill murder and Ted? How you just go along home and take it easy. I'm back at home now. It's two hours since I left O'Brien's office and I've taken the time to write down this full account, just as I gave it to the stenographer. As I write now, I can look across the lawn to Phil Judson's house. Five minutes ago, I saw Inspector O'Brien and two detectives go in there. The front door is opening now. I can see them coming out. O'Brien first, then the two detectives, with Phil between them. They've got handcuffs on Phil. And here comes Henrietta. She's running across the lawn, coming here. Peter! Peter! Coming, Henrietta. Peter, they've taken Phil away. Yes, I saw it off the window. Oh, darling. Everything went right, exactly as we planned it. Hold me tight, Peter. Tight. We can be together now, forever and ever. I'd have killed a dozen learners for you, baby. I know. And you were clever, Peter. So clever. The hardest part was getting Phil to cooperate. But I knew he'd do anything for a friend. What a fool he is. He stepped right in and took over. You should have seen O'Brien when I told him the story. I could tell exactly what he was thinking. Here's a poor, innocent sap whose best friend is framing him, giving him drugs, and then making him think he commits murder. Oh, Peter. As soon as he's convicted, I'll be free. And we can go away together. All right. But you'll have to cancel that trip. Both of you. O'Brien, you... you heard what we said? Sure did. Every word. Remember at my office, Mr. Lang, when I told you I only needed one more thing to cleanse the case against the murderer? Well, this was it. I faked the arrest of Mr. Judson, then I sneaked back to see what you'd do about it. Mm-hmm. You did plenty. Well, Pete certainly ruined a perfect crime by talking too much, which all goes to show that it's not wise to kill in town. Mercy. People do go out of their way to get themselves into trouble, don't they, Mr. Host? I'm really surprised at Henrietta, though. For being a partner in crime, Mary. No. For not being a partner to her husband. Most women, you know, take great pride in looking out for their husband's happiness. Mm-hmm. You mean like mending the bullet holes in their shirts? Oh, Mr. Host. There are lots of better ways than that to keep a husband happy. For example, when your husband comes home from work, give him the refreshment of a brimming cup of piping hot Lipton tea. Lipton tea makes a wonderfully pleasing drink at mealtime or any time, because Lipton's is such a grand tea. So deliciously different, more flavorful and full-bodied. If you've been forgetting to get it, why not jot down Lipton's on tomorrow's grocery list now? Remember, Lipton tea always meets with favor, because Lipton tea gives you brisk flavor. And now, friends, a parting word of advice. If you ever wake up and think that you've murdered someone in your sleep, don't go to the police. Now, just take another powder, brother, and go back to sleep. Oh, by the way, this month's Inner Sanctum Mystery Novel is The Innocent Mrs. Duff by Elizabeth Sanxy Holding. And next week, the makers of Lipton tea and Lipton soup will bring you another Inner Sanctum Mystery directed by Hyman Brown and called Accident. As the wind whistling in your ears frighten you folks. Oh, now don't be scared, because when you're pushed down an empty elevator shaft and you hit the bottom, nothing ever can frighten you again. It's just an accident. And you'll learn all the mystery of it if you're listening to Inner Sanctum next week. Until then, good night. Pleasant dreams? For a wonderful soup, be sure to try Lipton's noodle soup. Lipton's is the extra delicious noodle soup that folks rave about on account of all those tender golden egg noodles and that honest to goodness chickeny flavor. Tastes like homemade soup that you'd spend hours in making, yet Lipton's is ready in a jiffy. Lipton's noodle soup makes costs less and makes lots more than ordinary canned soups. So get some Lipton's noodle soup tomorrow. And tune in next week for another Inner Sanctum Mystery. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.