 And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world, Roma Wines, present... Suspense. Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Mr. Hume Cronin as Star of Blue Eyes. A suspense play produced, edited, and directed for Roma Wines by William Spear. Suspense. Radio's outstanding Theatre of Thrills is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines. That's R-O-M-A. Roma Wines. Those excellent California wines that can add so much pleasantness to the way you live. To your happiness in entertaining guests. To your enjoyment of everyday meals. Yes, right now, a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Hume Cronin in a remarkable tale of... Suspense. Today began just like any other day. Got to bed early last night because I had to go over the accounts with Mr. Bevan's. And when you go over the accounts with old Hawkshaw, you've got to be in tip-top shape. Well, I dressed myself rather carefully this morning. I put on the necktie with the little flowers on it. The blue and red one. Jane said she liked it. Told me it matched my eyes. Made them look bluer. Well, I went down to breakfast. My wife, Laura, was having her coffee. Good morning, Oliver. Morning, dear. I'll have to warm your coffee. Here's the paper. Oh, thanks. Oliver, must you wear that tie? Hmm? That frightful necktie. It's not at all becoming. Well, it matches my suit. It's a perfectly dreadful shade. Makes you look like a roub. Well, I like it. Well, I don't. And I wish you wouldn't wear it. Oliver, aren't you listening to me? Oh, sure, sure. I was reading. Oh. Well, don't let my conversation disturb you. That's all right. Oliver. What's wrong now? Oliver, I don't know what's gotten into you lately. You forget things. You scarcely seem to hear a word I say. Aren't you feeling well? I feel fine. Why shouldn't I? Well, you look a bit drawn. I believe I'd better make an appointment for you with Dr. Thacker. Look, Laura, there's nothing the matter with me. I better get going now. I'll be late. Well, you haven't finished your breakfast. That's all I want. I'm not very hungry. Where's my briefcase? On the hall table. Oliver, are you sure you're not ill? You look positively hollow-eyed. I never felt better in my life. Well... See you tonight, dear. Goodbye. Oliver. Yes? I hope you'll all... ...or nothing. Goodbye. Laura was like that. A chronic warrior. She seemed to take delight in fretting about things that wouldn't even occur to the average person. Imagine me not feeling well. Why, I've never had a sick day in my life. There on the trellis was my prize rose bush. Climbing talisman, they call it. Suddenly, I was thinking of Jane. Perhaps if I put a rosebud in my buttonhole, Jane would notice. She'd say something about how the scent matched her perfume, and then maybe we'd talk about roses. And I could impress her. Because I know quite a lot about roses. I was just about to pick one of the buds. Well, well, good morning, Mr. Duffield. Good morning. A two-letters-for-a-day. Oh, good morning, Mr. Crowley. Oh, yes. You're doing a little gardening, huh? Well, no. I was just sort of looking garden over. Oh, well, it's a mighty fine garden you've got there, Mr. Littlefield. You work pretty hard on it, too, I suppose. Yes, I've given it a fair share of my time. Yes, a little too much, maybe. I beg your pardon? Well, it pays to be on the safe side, Mr. Littlefield. Now, of course, of course, this ain't none of my business, but it seems to me, well, you're getting to look a little peeked there, man. You better go easy. Yeah. Well, good morning, Mr. Crowley. Yeah, good morning to you. I've got to get going anyway. It was the second time I'd heard it, and the day was hardly more than an hour old. First Laura, now the postman. I felt all right. I felt swell. I thought of the rosebud again. I bent down, snipped off a bud from the bush. I had to take the red cross-pin out of my lapel to get the rose in, but I didn't mind taking the time. After all, one minute more or less never harmed anyone. I didn't know, then, how precious a minute can be. Glanced at my watch, 823. Had to run part of the way to the station. I arrived out of breath, panting, perspiring a bit, but I made it. Steve and Joe helped me aboard. Hey, Oliver, you ought to get it early this start in the morning. Well, I was delayed at the house. Listen to old Olly Weez. And you're the guy who used to be drag scarter in high school. Where's the old wind, Olly? Oh, I'm all right. Just a second now. Oh, seriously, Oliver, it's dangerous business for a man of your age to be running around that way. You're out of my age. Listen to him. You should think I was 80. Say, you know what you need? Maxadrine. Pepe up. Make you feel like a million. I tell you, there's nothing wrong with me. I got two or three here with me. A little box from a pocket somewhere. Ah, here we are. Let me make you a little present. Non-habit-forming, you know? Maxadrine? What do I want with Maxadrine? You keep it in your pocket. Take a half of one with some water when you get a little, let's sagged-out feeling, you know? Pepe up like a million. Make him a new man out of you. Getting to be just like a club. You do to get membership with Smile at Me and say, Mr. Littlefield, you look sick. Mr. Littlefield, you look peaking. Mr. Littlefield, why don't you just find a nice, quiet corner and go and curl up and die, Mr. Littlefield? It was nine o'clock when I got to the office. I noticed a lumpy feeling in my solar plexus. Right here. Little to the left of my heart. It was just indigestion, of course. I got my accounts together and went into Mr. Bevan's outer office. There was Jane at her desk. She looked lovely this morning. Sunlight coming through the Venetian blind seemed to blend with her blonde hair. All at once, I wondered why I'd ever married Laura. Sunlight never did anything for her hair. Jane was busy and she didn't see me come in. I coughed, lightly. Oh, Mr. Littlefield, good morning. Good morning, Jane. I heard you cough. Do you have a cold? No. No, I haven't a cold. I never felt better in my life. I'm sorry, Mr. Littlefield. Forgive me. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm afraid I'm a little jumpy this morning. Well, I can understand you're being jumpy. Mr. Bevan's can certainly be an old bear if he finds a mistake in the book. He's certainly can. But I wouldn't, I wouldn't worry. You're well dressed for the occasion that Rose and your lapel should appeal to his more pleasant side. That is, if he has a pleasant side. I just happened to notice the bud in one of the bushes in the garden this morning. I don't know why I wore it. It looks very nice. Thank you. It's a climbing talisman. Do you know anything about roses? No, no, I'm afraid not. They're my favorite flower, though. I grow them as a hobby. I had some exhibited ones. Oh, my dear, you must be quite a gardener. Oh, no, no, not really. You see, there isn't a lot to growing roses. You just have to watch your soil carefully. Irrigate, of course. And roses take a good deal of spraying, too. Oh, yes, I see. And let me tell you, if you intend to exhibit your flowers there mustn't be any evidence of insect damage. You see, a rose is judged first by its form and color, then substance, then... Excuse me, Mr. Littlefield. Yes, sir. Have you seen Littlefield? Why, yes, sir. I'll buy him a name. Heaven has to come in here. Doesn't he know he has a nine o'clock appointment with me? Mr. Bevins, Mr. Littlefield has been waiting for you in the outer office. You didn't call, sir. Is it necessary for me to call my employees after I've made a specific appointment? I'm sorry, Mr. Bevins. I'm sure that Mr. Littlefield... Littlefield's a fool. Have him come right in here. Yes, sir. Oh, Mr. Littlefield, I'm... It's all right, Jane. It's all right. I'll go right in. I walked to the door. I could feel that lump inside of me getting bigger, almost choking. What right did Bevins have to say such things about me? And in front of Jane. I reached for the door handle and turned it. Well, well, Littlefield, what are you standing there for? Come in. Come in. Sit down. Littlefield, I believe you're aware of my sentiments regarding punctuality. I expect my employees to be on time. In fact, I demand that they do. Well, you see, Mr. Bevins, I... Never mind. We'll discuss the matter at later date. Right now, I want to see the vouchers. Last month's. Yes, sir. Right here. Littlefield, these are the Mae vouchers. Oh, so they are. Sorry, Mr. Bevins. Here. Hmm. Let me see the audit on these. Yes, sir. Not the sales slips, Littlefield. The audit. What the devil's wrong with you, man? What? The portion that think you are completely addled. Addled? Well, I'm not addled. And I'm not a fool, either. You had no right to call me that. Do you understand? Littlefield, I think you must be ill. I'm not ill. Don't say I'm ill because I never felt better in my life. All that's wrong with me, Mr. Bevins, is that... I'm mad. Yes, that's the word for it. I think you are mad. Completely mad. No, that's not what I mean, either, Mr. Bevins. I'm perfectly all right, except that I'm not going to sit here and listen to you calling me names. I've got 17 years worth of tempers stored up right here, and I'm warning you, Mr. Bevins. I'd like to tell you just what I think of you. Get out of this office, Littlefield. If there's one thing I will not tolerate, it's insubordination. All right, Mr. Bevins, all right. So I'm insubordinate. And it may surprise you to know that I wanted to be insubordinate for 17 long years. See here, young man. 17 years I've worked for you, and what thanks have I had for it? Two dollar raises and listening to you about... Littlefield, get out! You're fired. I know, sure. I'm fired. But that's all you can do to me, Mr. Bevins. All you can do is fire me. Why didn't you fire me a long time ago? So there I was, out of a job. What was the next step? Couldn't go home in the middle of the day? I could, but you don't know Laura. I'd never been able to explain it to her. She wouldn't have understood. She never understood anything. With her, it was payday, the bridge club, and you had freester. Everything's suburban, everything in a rut, always in a rut! I went back and sat in my office to think. Then I got out and went to the watercolour. I pulled my handkerchief out to wipe my hands, and something fell out of my pocket. It was that little pillbox. I opened it. There were three-and-a-half of those Maxidrenes in it. I swallowed them all. And I sat down, and a little later, I began to feel clear in my mind. My life was this awful, deadly grind because I was married to Laura. She was the cause of all my unhappiness, the cause of my failure, the reason for my losing my job. Something would have to be done about Laura. Why not eliminate the cause? That was it. Eliminate the cause, and you have the situation lit. Suddenly my mind was made up. I must kill Laura. In the acts of suspense, this is Ken Niles for Roma Wines. Every great artist creates many fine paintings, but there is usually one picture in which the artist's talents combine magnificently to produce a masterpiece. It is frequently so with wines. Long fame for the excellence of Roma Wines, Roma, America's greatest vintner, has created a limited bottling of outstanding character, grand estate wines, each a masterpiece of fine winemaking. Yes, grand estate wines by Roma possess all the qualities of wine greatness, brilliant clarity, full fragrance, and soft, rich taste. For Roma vintners with infinite patience and age-old skill have captured from choicest grapes the ultimate in wine goodness. That is why discriminating wine users everywhere recognize grand estate wines as the crowning achievement of vintner skill. Tomorrow, enjoy the delightful experience awaiting you in grand estate California wines. For gracious hospitality before dinner, serve your guests grand estate medium sherry. For smart afternoon or evening entertaining, delight everyone with grand estate ruby port or golden muscatel. Remember the name, grand estate wines by Roma, each a taste masterpiece. And now Roma wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage Hume Cronin, who has Oliver Littlefield in blue eyes, continues a narrative well calculated to keep you in suspense. Merge is a tough proposition. It takes a lot of thought. It mustn't be messy or violent. It's got to be quick and effective. Or a guy stands a good chance of getting caught. How to do this thing? How to do it without a slipper? Suddenly I had it. Laura took some medicine every night at bedtime, two tablespoons of powder that Dr. Thacker prescribed for her in a glass of warm milk. If I were to get some poison that looked like that powder and substance... Yes, that was perfect. Miss, quick and effective. Three o'clock. I walked up the steps of the public library and went in. Yes, sir, can I help you? I'd like to see some books on... Yes. I just wanted to look something over on roses. Oh, I see. Well, that's horticulture. Section five, just across the aisle. Oh, yes, horticulture. Of course. Thank you. I took a book from the shelf, thumbed a few pages, finally decided to risk a quick glance in the direction of the librarian. See if she was still watching me. The desk was empty. She'd left it. Then I saw where she was, at the other end of the library, stacking books on a hand card. Here was my chance. I could slip across to the science alcove without her seeing me. I went to the section marked Science, Medicine. Looked in the card index file under P, Pharmacology. Pharmacology and Therapeutics by Walter A. Bastido, P, H, G, M, D. Someday I'm going to look up those initials and find out what they mean. I found the book. The index said look under hydrocyanate acid and cyanate. And there it was. Cyanate. Used as an intensifier in photographic development. Two and a half grains of this cyanate is reckoned to be a lethal dose. I could buy the stuff at a photographic supply store. Two and a half grains. Fatal. Pardon me, sir. Yes? I'd like to put these books away if I may. Oh, you're the gentleman who was looking for books on roses. Yes, yes, I was. Well, I'm afraid you're in the wrong department, sir. As I told you a moment ago, you'll find everything on roses in... Oh! Oh, that was clumsy of me. I'm terribly sorry. Oh, it's all right, my fault. I was in your way. You dropped your book here. Thank you. Well, this isn't a book on roses at all. It's pharmacology. Oh, well, what do you know about that? I must have picked up the wrong book somewhere. Yes, you must have. She stared at me as I put the book back on the shelf. I turned and walked away. I could feel her eyes following me to the door. I was conscious of that lump under my heart again. It felt heavy and hard like a rock. There was a dryness in my throat, too. I swallowed a few times to get rid of it. At 4th and Sutter, there's a photographic supply place. Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon. I'd like some cyanate. Yes, how much do you want, sir? Oh, enough to treat some negatives with. Quite a few negatives. About two pounds? Yes, I think that'll be fine. I'll weigh it for you. What kind of camera have you been using? What? Oh, I have a brownie camera. A brownie, eh? Yeah. A lot of people are going back to them since the war. You can take good pictures of a boxed camera if you use it right. You know what they say? It's not the camera, but the man behind the camera that makes the pictures. Yes. And what size negative do you shoot with it? Negative? Well, as far as negatives go, I... I shoot in a quarter by a screen a quarter, probably, and that's what most brownies do. Yes, that's the size. I wasn't going to be able to keep this up much longer. I was bound to make a slip sooner or later. Couldn't say that I was in a hurry. He might get suspicious. A man buying poison shouldn't ever be in a hurry. Why was he taking so long? I get the old perspiration of my forehead cold and damp. The room began to look lopsided. Everything seemed to be swaying, swaying. Grip the counter with both hands. Grip it tightly. Now, smile. Here you are, sir. That'd be 57 cents. Yes. Here you are. Thank you. Hey, hey, just a minute. Hey, hey, mister, hey! I heard him shout after me, but I kept right on walking, faster. So a photographic studio was just like a drug store after all. If you bought poison, you had to sign for it. Well, I wasn't going to. No, I wasn't going to. I ducked around the corner. Hey, hey, mister, hey, hey! Hey, officer, did you see a fellow just come out of here? What for? Gray suit, blue tie, rose in his buttonhole? No. He's gone. What do you make of that? The guy gives me a 20 instead of a 1. Disappears. Well, I can do business like that all day long. I won't forget that, Gint. No, sir. I arrived home at 6.30. Laura wasn't there. The table wasn't set. Well, she was probably late shopping. I went upstairs and I found the bottle in the medicine chest. The cyanate matched the powder in the bottle perfectly. She'd never be able to tell the difference. I poured half the bottle's contents into the sink, marked with my finger the level of the medicine and then refilled the bottle with cyanate up to the mark and shook it so as to mix it thoroughly. I emptied the rest of the poison into the sink and let the water run for a minute. Now it was done. Everything accomplished and very neatly too. All I had to do now was wait. I glanced at the bedroom door. It was closed. All the doors on the second floor were closed. That's another thing. That's another thing I hated about Laura. So precise about her housekeeping. Everything in its place, even to closing the doors when a room wasn't in use. Back downstairs. I tried to light a cigarette, but my hands were beginning to shake. Nerves again. I took a book from the table by the sofa. Tried to read. Then I realized what I was reading. Funny I should have picked up that book. Memory album of Oliver and Laura Littlefield. And a dance program tied in Pink Ribbon. Homecoming dance Indiana University in 1928. First anniversary. Oliver and Laura Littlefield celebrating their first anniversary, July the 12th, 1929. They invite you to an informal tea. Suddenly I was lonesome for Laura. I missed her. Where was she? Why was she late? I wanted to hear her voice, even if she nagged me. It didn't really matter. I wanted to hear her say something. I thought back over the events of that day. I thought of my married life with Laura. It hadn't been as bad as I let myself believe. It hadn't been bad at all. Laura loved me. She did love me and I loved her. I must have been crazy to even think of killing her. What would I ever do without her? I leaped to my feet and I ran up the stairs to the medicine chest. I poured the cyanate down the drain, all of it. I washed out the sink with my hand to be sure that the last bit of the poison was gone. It was only then that I... that I was calm again. At last I'd come to my senses. I loved Laura now more than ever before. I thought of Laura. I thought of the necktie I was wearing, the one that she didn't like. I'd change it before dinner. I opened the door of the bed, then I saw her. Sprawled on the bed, her face distorted in pain. I went to the bed and I shook her. Laura. Laura! She didn't move. She was cold. Terribly cold. Hello? Hello, Dr. Thacker? This is Oliver Littlefield. Can you come right over, doctor? Something's happened to my wife. I think she's dead. You were right, Mr. Littlefield. She's... This glass she drank from. It's poison. Why? Why? I'm afraid, sir, it looks like suicide. Suicide? She wouldn't do a thing like that. She had no reason. She had a reason, Mr. Littlefield. Your wife was dying of an incurable disease. But that's not true, she would have told. She wanted to keep it from you. Those were her wishes. I'm sorry, Mr. Littlefield. Without saying anything more, she left the room. I sat there staring at Laura. My mind was a blank. I don't know how long it was until Dr. Thacker came back. Um, Mr. Littlefield. What is it? This bottle. That's the medicine you prescribed for my wife. I think not. Of course it is. What are you talking about? I didn't prescribe cyanate. Seems that I may be obliged to revise my diagnosis of your wife's death. I don't understand. Really, Mr. Littlefield, isn't it quite obvious? Your wife's death was caused by a lethal dosage of cyanate. Her medicine bottle was filled with cyanate. The odor is still there. Yes, but I can explain that. You see, there wasn't a bit of it left. I threw it all away. She must have bought some herself. I hardly think she'd fill her medicine bottle with poison if she intended to commit suicide. Wait a minute. Wait, please, Doctor. You've got to listen to me. I didn't do it. That's what you're thinking. I didn't do it, Doctor. Dr. Thacker, you've known me for a long time. You can take my word for it. Hello, operator. Give me the police. You see, it started with that blue tie. It made my eyes look bluer. Everybody told me I was sick. I started to feel sick. Yes, this is an emergency. Then the rosebud and Mr. Bevins and the Maxadrine. I didn't know what I was doing for a little while, Doctor. Hello, this is Dr. Thacker. Better send someone to 6931 Clairman right away. You know, people can drive you out of your mind if they keep saying the same thing to you over and over again. Big fun. You've got to listen. It was the blue tie. Laura started it. She said I was hollow-eyed. I don't know. It looks like homicide. 12 short hours. But since then, the hours have been long. Endless eternity. How long will I have to wait? How long will they file out of that room and tell me what I already know? The coroner's jury found that Laura Littlefield met her death by poisoning. It's recommended that her husband, Oliver Littlefield, be held to answer. There's no other verdict. The testimony of the librarian, the clerk at the photographic store, the doctor, powerful evidence that lies, damning evidence that... it'll send Oliver Littlefield to the electric chair. Mr. Littlefield, it's all over. I knew it. I knew what you'd find. The coroner's jury found the testimony of the librarian, the clerk, and the rest convincing. Undeniable. And, of course, the presence of the glass of poison that your wife's bedside was confusing. Undoubtedly, she had intended to commit suicide. But, of course, we know now that she didn't. When will I be arrested? That is a matter for the police if they decide to prosecute. Of course, under the circumstances... Circumstances. Circumstantial evidence. I didn't murder my wife. I didn't. I didn't. Of course not, Mr. Littlefield. The autopsy settled that. Not a single trace of poison in the body. She died as a result of her illness. No poison? No poison, and lucky for you, Mr. Littlefield. Because if she'd committed suicide, if she planned, just how would you have been able to prove your innocence, Mr. Littlefield? Just exactly how? Suspense. Brought to you by Roma Wines. R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is Ken Niles for Roma Wines. One more day to Labor Day weekend. The traditional occasion for tasty outdoor barbecues or picnics. And your last chance to select the delicious Grand Estate Wines that can add so much pleasure and good taste to your holiday dining. Yes, Grand Estate Wines are becoming the choice of discriminating wine users everywhere. For in Grand Estate Wines by Roma, you enjoy the brilliant clarity, full fragrance and mellow taste that distinguish truly great wines. Your first sip of Grand Estate Wine will convince you that in Grand Estate there is a difference. A difference born of choicest grapes and the patient priceless skill of Roma, America's greatest vittner. So this weekend enjoy the magnificent taste harmony of Grand Estate California Burgundy and juicy charcoal broiled steaks or grilled hamburgers or bring out the full flavor of chicken with glorious Grand Estate California Soturn. Remember the name Grand Estate Wines by Roma. Crowning achievement of vintner skill. The courtesy of Metro Golden Mayo produces of the Technicolor musical Holiday in Mexico. Next Thursday same time, Roma Wines will bring you Mr. Robert Young as star of Suspense, Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrill. Produced by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.