 Autolight and its 96,000 dealers present Mr. James Mason in Banquo's chair. A suspense play produced and edited by William Spear. Oh, Wilcox, you happy huckster. Welcome me home. Why have you? What's the greatest spark plug engineering miracle in years, Otto? Well, the wide gap autolight resistor spark plug, of course. Why? Because this newest addition to the complete line of regular, transport, aviation, resistor, marine and model spark plugs, ignition engineered by Autolight, offers special money-saving advantages, like double life under equal conditions compared to spark plugs without the built-in resistor. Right, Wilcox. Why these sensational wide gap autolight resistor spark plugs give greater gas savings, smoother performance, faster starts in cold weather, and it's all due to the 10,000 ohm exclusive autolight resistor built right into every autolight resistor spark plug, which makes practical a wider initial gap setting. Now tell them hollow. So friends, see your friendly autolight spark plug dealer tomorrow, and have him replace worn-out spark plugs with a set of ignition engineered autolight spark plugs. And whether you choose the resistor type or the regular type, you'll be right because you're always right with autolight. And now with Banquo's chair and the performance of James Mason, autolight hopes once again to keep you in suspense. I will begin by reading to you a recent newspaper cutting about myself. It has a bearing upon the story I'm about to tell you. Please listen. The recent retirement of Sir William Brent from the English criminal investigation has given great joy to all the lawbreakers in our land. For more than two decades, Sir William has terrorized the underworld. The ex-head of the English criminal investigation has been the scourge of thieves and murderers. In but one single solitary instance has he been known to confess defeat or to express dissatisfaction with the outcome of his prosecution. This was the now famous Bedford murder case. That news item was written by Arthur Grange, a reporter who had been covering crime trials for years and whom I knew very well indeed. I had not, of course, given up the Bedford case. That too is now over. But that the case should be resolved as it was, no one on earth could have foreseen. I'd already made my arrangements with May Wakefield and, of course, with Bedford. Arthur Grange's call came on Wednesday. I just received your wire. I hope you're coming. Well, I am scheduled to go up to Woodsbury on Friday and dine with my sister. How important is this dinner? I don't think you will ever forget it as long as you live. Isn't Tarratt House the place where Bedford murdered his aunt? You have a good memory. What's it all about? Will you be here, Arthur? You make it sound so mysterious. It will be. Can I bring my revolver? Yes, I think you should, Arthur. Good night. That's a will. It rained all day Friday, and by evening Augustine November when began to drive the rain hard against the exposed wall of Tarratt House. This mansion is a huge red brick ugly product of Queen Victoria's time. It did not stand gracefully but squatted at the back of a private road almost hidden from view by several dripping pine trees. The neighborhood was in decline as best days were over. Perhaps mine were too, I thought, as I came down the stairs. But after tonight it won't matter. Good evening, Queen. Hello, Lane. Last tonight is with us. It is miserable. There's not much warm room here. There's a fire in the library. How are you, Sir William? Quite well, Arthur. What made you move into this drafty old dungeon? I don't live here. It's my temporary quarters. I still live over there in the West End. And here is Miss Stone. Miss Roberta Stone. This is Mr. Arthur Grant. Pleased to meet you. How do you do? Roberta is the famous mystery story writer. Oh, yes. I've read your books and enjoyed them. Oh, thank you, Mr. Grant. Perhaps you can tell me, Miss Stone, what mysterious event is going to take place here this evening? I was told to come armed. He told me the same thing. Here's my gun. I've never found this monstrous, ugly thing in all my life. You're pointing it at me, Roberta. It's not at all polite. I'm sorry, Sir William. This house, Roberta, was the scene of a particularly unpleasant crime, as Mr. Grange can tell you. Oh, yes. In this very house, John Bedford murdered his aunt, Miss Martha Ferguson. Oh, how nice. But the Bedford couldn't have picked a more ideal place. Sir William, you must tell us what you're up to. We'll have a drink first, and then I'll tell you both all about it. Lane, will you serve the drinks? Yes, sir William. Good. Now I can tell you that tonight I am going to close the Bedford case. Mr. Grange, thank you, Lane. You're going to close the Bedford case tonight? I'll give you the facts in an orderly fashion. I never arrested John Bedford for the murder of his aunt, Miss Ferguson, for two reasons. First, he had an absolute and perfect alibi. Arresting him would only be a waste of time and money. And secondly, according to English law, a man discharged can never be arrested again on the same murder charge. What's going to happen tonight? In a short while, John Bedford will be here to dine with us. And, uh, oh yes, his victim, Miss Ferguson. You mean Miss Ferguson wasn't actually murdered? Miss Ferguson is most thoroughly dead and has been dead for years. You're going to have the body of old Miss Ferguson here while we... Please don't anticipate me. As you both know, I've never lost a case except the Bedford murder. I've resigned from the criminal investigation for the sole reason of trapping John Bedford. Well, I must say you have a great amount of patience, sir William. Yes, I am infinitely patient. For three years I've been planning for this night. This is a moment of considerable triumph for me. I wanted to have some witnesses. A writer will record this event. And an admirer will appreciate the skill with which I will bring a notorious murderer to his proper end. I have an uncanny feeling that this is going to be gruesome. Come. You'd be ashamed to run away, wouldn't you? I'll stay, of course. Oh, will I? Long as I have my weapons... Splendid. But before I tell you about my diabolical scheme, let me first acquaint Roberta with the details of the murder. I think I can recreate the circumstances for you quite accurately. Very well then. Exactly three years ago tonight. Hilda, where are you? Oh, where is that foolish maid never around? Why don't you answer when I call? I was in the kitchen, ma'am. It's after ten o'clock. You should be on your way home. I was just about to leave. Has my nephew called? No, ma'am. Mr Bedford hasn't called since yesterday. I told him he couldn't come here anymore, just like you told me. I don't ever want to see him again. He's no good, an evil man who will come to an evil end. You're never to let him in here, Hilda. He won't ever come in this house. Not if I can help it. Now you'd better run along and make sure all the doors are bolted before you leave. Yes, ma'am. Good night, Miss Ferguson. Good night, Hilda. Oh, pity about my nephew John. Such a pity. Who's there? Who is it? It's John, Aunt Martha. Your own affectionate nephew. What are you doing in my house? Oh, you're not at all pleased to see me. You're only living relative, too. I'd like you to leave at once, or I'll call the police. Well, I'd rather not, auntie. I won't ever talk with you. You don't want to talk to me. All you want is my money. You're putting the whole subject on a very vulgar level. You've had all the money you will ever get out of me. You won't get tuppence after I die. And it may interest you to know that I'm changing my will tomorrow. So I hear, auntie. You're wearing gloves that... Yes, auntie. Keep away from me! Oh, no, you're an old woman, auntie. All that money is no good for you. You can't ever use it. To me, money is life. And you're going to die soon, anyway. No, no, you're not going to do that. Oh, yes, auntie, I am, and I'd be doing you a favour. You're old and ill and lonely. Please, no screaming, auntie. And don't you worry, auntie. He'll have a fine funeral for you. That's pretty much the way old Miss Ferguson was murdered. I made Hilda found the body the next morning. I immediately went to work on the case. All the evidence pointed to John Bedford. He almost admitted it himself. I had him brought to my office for questioning. Would you do so, William? Oh, hello. Please come in. Thank you. Cigarette? Thank you. Well... How does it feel to kill your aunt? May I have a light, please? Yes, of course. I wouldn't, sir, William. You see, I never killed anyone. Have you? Yes, I've shot and killed lawbreakers who tried to get away, and I've sent many of them to the gallows. Yes, so I understand. What was your relationship to your aunt? I was her nephew. Very amusing. She didn't like you, did she? I'm a truthful man, she didn't. She thought I was a spendthrift and a parasite. She was quite right. Where were you on the night of the murder? In jail. I drunk a little too much and got into a bit of a tiff with the police. Quite an alibi. Quite a fact. Now, it was hardly possible for me to be in jail and kill my aunt at the same time, unless, of course, my aunt came into my cell and allowed me to murder her, after which she walked back to turret house as a ghost, dragging her body behind her. That's hardly possible. Don't you think you ought to check my story? I already have. You're a skillful fellow. Why don't you arrest me then, sir? No, no, no, Mr. Bedford. I have time and patience. Oh, you'd better work fast. By the time you get round to me, I'll have spent all of my aunt's beautiful money. It's not her money I'm after. It's your life. Your beautiful life, Mr. Bedford. Good day. Yes. And tonight I shall have him. Tonight, in your presence, he will commit that murder again. And this time I shall arrest him for it. The light is bringing you James Mason in Banquo's chair. Production and radio's outstanding theater of thrills suspense. Say, hollow, while I was on vacation, I used nothing but those miraculous new wide-gap auto-light resistor spark plugs in my car. In what a performance? That's the wide-gap auto-light resistor spark plug for you. They're the newest addition to the complete line of regular transport, aviation, resistor, marine and model spark plugs, ignition engineered by auto-light. Hollow, let me tell you how those wide-gap auto-light resistor spark plugs worked like a charm. Of course they did have just as any auto-light spark plug, but with auto-light resistor spark plugs you do get special advantages, such as smoother performance on leaner gas mixtures, greater gas savings, even double life under equal conditions as compared to spark plugs without the built-in resistor. And it's all due to the 10,000 ohm exclusive auto-light resistor built right into every auto-light resistor spark plug. So friends, see your neighborhood auto-light spark plug dealer tomorrow and have worn out spark plugs replaced with ignition engineered auto-light spark plugs. Whether you choose the resistor type or the regular type, you'll be right because you're always right with auto-light. And now auto-light brings back to our Hollywood soundstage our star, James Mason, in Banquo's chair. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. That's how matters stood. I refused to let my man arrest him. But how in the world could he have murdered his aunt while he was in jail? Well, he might have bribed the prison guard to let him out for an hour. You're right, Roberta. I believe that's exactly what he did. Unfortunately, the guard in question died of pneumonia soon afterwards and left us no further source of evidence. Well, as far as I can see, sir William, you haven't a leg to stand on. You can't touch Bedford. Every man, particularly a criminal, has an Achilles heel. I sat down at my desk and potted him out on paper. I decided I didn't know enough about him, his personal habits, his real character. So a month ago, I was... Sir William, what a surprise. Want to invite me in? Oh, of course, sir. Please come in. Thank you, Mr. Bedford. Well, I'm really honoured to have the great man pay me a visit. You're not after any more clues, I hope. It's got to get rather feature, sir William. Oh, no. No, not at all. I know when I'm beaten. Well, I don't want to appear smug, sir, but everyone has his waterloo. Would you have a drink, sir William? Thank you. I don't know whether you've heard that I have resigned from the criminal investigation. I'm a private citizen now. Oh, yes, I heard nothing about that. I couldn't believe it. No, it wasn't my love for justice that made me pursue my profession with such tematity and success, to the sole exception of your case, of course. It was a game of skill with me, my wits against all comers. I lost in your case. Well, then we all have to lose sometimes, don't we? I don't believe you, sir William. You're still out to get me. There isn't much chance, is there? I'm afraid not, sir William. I've kept out of trouble so far on our cottonwoods. I had no idea you were superstitious, Mr. Branson. A sophisticate like you? Just a habit, I think I was a charmer. I see. Before I go, there's just one thing. I noticed in the papers that you're looking for a tenant for a carried house. Oh, yes, I am. I'd like to rent it. The scene of the crime? Of course, why not, there's no harm in it. As a matter of fact, it's perfect. And once more, I'll let you have it very cheaply for old time's sake. I saw Bedford frequently. Our acquaintance developed into friendship, an armed friendship, of course. He knew I was out to get him, and I wanted him to know that. But he was so pleased, so vain that he'd bested me that it gave him delight to see me. And that's how I got to know him pretty well. Fundamentally, he's superstitious and afraid. He's uncomfortable in the dark. He's an insomniac. He finds himself utterly unable to read horror novels. His sneering self-assurance is a mask for a nature that's subject to deathly fears. Well, tonight is the anniversary of the murder, and tonight Mr. Bedford dines with us at eight o'clock. I asked you two to be here early so that we could have a talk. It's nearly eight now. Now, this is the plan. You both know May Wakefield? Shakespearean May Wakefield? Oh, yes, of course. Wonderful, the greatest lady Macbeth I ever saw. That's right. Now, during dinner, she will enter the room in the precise likeness of Miss Ferguson, the murdered woman. We, of course, will pretend not to see her. We'll remain outwardly unconscious of her. Only Bedford will be aware of her presence. Hamlet, the play's the same. Exactly. Now, during dinner, the electric light will be switched off at the main, and candles will be lit. We must have the correct atmosphere. You understand now? You are not to see Miss Wakefield. She doesn't exist for us. Is that clear? I'll look right over. That will be Bedford. Dear Mr. Bedford, good of you to come in this weather. I never miss a meeting with you, sir William. Oh, Lane, will you take Mr. Bedford's things? Yes. Missable weather? Oh, indeed. This way to the dining room? Thank you. I almost forgot my way around in this ugly old place. Perhaps you have unpleasant memories associated with turret house. Perhaps I have. Bedford looked herself over with his characteristic arrogance and superiority. I made the proper introductions, and then we all set out to dinner. Still nasty outside, Mr. Bedford. Oh, it's getting worse. Looks as if we're in for a few days of this weather. Too bad. I'm thinking of doing some riding tomorrow. The soup. It's excellent. Oh, yes, sir William. Your cook is to be congratulated. The soup is a masterpiece. Poor Alice. She's been my cook for over 20 years, but she's given me notice. Absolutely refuses to stay here any longer. Why? She says this house is haunted. Roberta, this might make an interesting story for you. You should speak to her. She can give you a detailed description of the ghost. Alice swears that she's seen the figure of an elderly woman with finger marks on her throat, walking about the house. Oh, ha, ha, ha! Hmm? Oh, no, come now, sir William. This is just too good, such an obvious attempt to frighten me. So William is convinced that I murdered my arm. No, please, sir William, a little more subtlety. Surely I deserve it. Perhaps the cook did see the figure. It might interest you to know, Mr Bedford, that I don't believe in ghosts. And I'm sure my cook never saw this elderly figure, except in our frightened imagination. I am afraid, sir, that your little attempt did not work. But I must admire your graceful acknowledgement of its failure. I suppose I should give up plaguing you, shouldn't I? Oh, no, sir William, never give up. I may have a weak spot somewhere you never can tell. If at first you don't succeed, you'll know. A bit far from here, Mr Bedford. Oh, thank you, mister, and there's really no need to change the subject. I hope you'll find this game as amusing as I do. I, um, saw a very exciting play last night. Excuse me a moment, it's really fearfully hot in here. Do you mind, sir William, if we get a little freshened? I'm sorry, it is stuffy in here. Elaine, open one of the windows, please. There it is, awful weather, simply awful. Yes, I don't know how we'll ever get home. If I can't stand this weather myself, I think I'll go to the Riviera next week. Elaine, what on earth's wrong with the lights? I don't know, sir. Well, don't stand around, fetch some candles. We can't sit here in the darkness and get the chauffeur. He knows something about electric lights. I'll call the chauffeur right away, sir. I'm terribly sorry about this. We've had trouble with the wiring before. We'll have it fixed up in a few minutes. Have some more wine, Mr Bedford. I've had enough, thank you. It was a tense moment. I looked at Roberta and Arthur, they were both pale and uneasy, and so was Bedford for all his poise. I believe that the only calm person in the room was myself. Oh, Mr Bedford, you were saying something about visiting the Riviera. It must be lovely at this time of year. It is. I've been there before. What's the matter, Mr Bedford? Nothing. Nothing at all. I wish we could have some more light. It's rather difficult to see. I'm really terribly sorry this had to happen just at dinner. Please have a little more wine, Mr Bedford. No, I don't drink much. The figure of a woman, I'd entered the room. She'd come in silently like a ghost. It was done so softly, so skillfully, that her presence seemed completely unreal. It was a superb entrance. We all saw her, but we made no sign of recognition. In the dim candlelight she looked ghastly. It was an incredible piece of makeup. Bedford looked at all of us, to see if we'd seen the figure standing a few feet away from him. But we ate our dinner calmly. He looked again, shook his head, and then gupped the wine in front of him. Don't tell me you see anything. See what, Mr Bedford? You'll look perfectly well, what? There she is, just as plain as that. What's got into you, Bedford? It's my arm. My arm! You've had too much wine. Your aunt is dead. You're not seeing ghosts, I hope. Yes. Oh, yes, that's it. I've drained too much. I'm not used to drinking, you know? Yes, yes, yes. She's coming towards me. Calm yourself, Bedford. I've never seen you like this. There's no one else here. Do you see anyone, Roberta? No. No, I don't see anyone. No, neither do I. I can't stand this. I'm getting out of here. You're not wearing gloves today, John. No, she's real. God, I didn't see her. I can't hear her. Let's come over here. She, she starts, she starts... Sit down, Bedford. She's gone to the door. She won't let me out. I'm an old woman. Money is no good for me. I'm lonely, John. Let me by, Aunt Martha, out of my way! Out of my way! Get away from that door. I'll murder you again! To hear Aunt Martha, I'll kill you again, you old witch! Please let me go. Officer Graham, come out and arrest him. Your hand is confession. Sir, I did put the handcuffs on him. I've got him there. Well, Bedford, it seems that I've finally caught up. I'll kill her again. I'll kill her again. I'll kill her again. That wasn't your aunt. That was Mae Wakefield. I'll kill her again. I'll kill her again. Take him away, Graham. He's in a state of shock. Let's continue our dinner. I'm sorry for this interruption. You don't think I want to eat anymore? Don't be squeamish, Roberta. We must celebrate my final case. It's been a long job, but it ended just as I knew it must. I'm most grateful to the both of you for your help. It was a little grim for me. That was the finest piece of acting I've ever seen. Mae Wakefield certainly knew her part. We must congratulate her. She almost convinced me. She must have removed her makeup by now, or lane. Tell Miss Wakefield to come down and join us. We have a fine dinner waiting for her. Excuse me, sir, but this telegram came a little while ago. I didn't want to disturb you during dinner. Let me have it. Why, Sir William, is anything wrong? I'll read it to you. Extremely sorry. Severe influenza makes it impossible for me to leave my bed tonight. Will tomorrow night do. Signed... Mae Wakefield. Lord help us. If it wasn't Mae Wakefield, who was it? I did not answer her. I looked at the staring faces of Roberta and Arthur, and then I turned away. A vein in my temple began to throb. I put my hand to it, and it stopped. I... I think I'll have some wine. Now, Lane. Yes, Sir? Fetch a bottle of brandy and pour three stiff drinks. Better make it four. I think you need one, too. Suspense presented by Auto-Lite. Tonight's star, James Mason. Well, Hap, it's great to have you back. Me and those 400 Auto-Lite products. Yes, you and over 400 products made by Auto-Lite for cars, trucks, planes, and boats in 28 plants coast to coast. These include complete electrical systems used as original equipment on many makes of America's finest cars. Spark plugs, batteries, generators, coils, distributors, starting motors, and bullseye-sealed beam headlights. All engineered to fit together perfectly, work together perfectly, because they're a perfect team. So friends, don't accept electrical parts supposed to be as good. Ask for and insist on Auto-Lite, original factory parts, at your neighborhood service station, car dealer, garage, or repair shop. Remember, you're always right with Auto-Lite. Next Thursday for Suspense, our star will be Alan Ladd. The play is called Motive for Murder. And it is, as we say... A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Tonight's Suspense play was produced and edited by William Spear and directed by Norman MacDonald. Music for Suspense is composed by Rene Garagank and Lucian Morawek and conducted by Lud Bluskin. Vanquo's chair was adapted for radio by Sigmund Miller from a short story by Rupert Croft Cook. James Mason can soon be seen in the Universal International Picture One-Way Street. In the coming weeks, you will hear such stars as Ronald Reagan and Ginger Rogers. Don't forget, next Thursday same time, Auto-Lite will present Suspense, starring Alan Ladd. By Auto-Lite resistor or regular spark plug, Auto-Lite's faithful batteries, Auto-Lite electrical parts at your neighborhood Auto-Lite dealer. Switch to Auto-Lite. Good night. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.