 Yes, Roma Wines taste better because only Roma selects from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A. Roma Wines, present. Suspense! Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Miss Joan Bennett in Overture in Two Keys, 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 better tasting California wines enjoyed by more Americans than any other wine. For friendly entertaining, for delightful dining. Yes, right now, a glassful would be very pleasant as Roma Wines bring you Joan Bennett in a remarkable tale of Suspense. Are you feeling any better now? You know what I've been wondering, lying here. What's that, Mrs. Allen? Are you really a nurse? Why, of course. That stuff you keep giving me to make me sleep, it doesn't. You'd be asleep in no time, Mrs. Allen, if you'd only make up your mind to it. It's all in your mind, you know. That's funny. You saying that to me. Now then, Mrs. Allen, you mustn't keep talking. That's how it was with him. All in his mind. That's why I couldn't help him. That's why nobody in the world could help him. I know that now, but I couldn't bring myself to admit it until last night. You know where I was last night? I was at the Hollywood Bowl. It should have been the proudest night of my life. I was waiting for my husband to enter the stage and take his place as the leader of a great orchestra. Yes, I should have felt proud, but all I could feel was fear. It wasn't a new fear, it was an old fear, as old as our lives together. It began nearly two years ago. Ira and I had driven to the Pasadena Station to meet a new pupil of his in from the east. I didn't have any reason to believe that this new arrival would be any different from the dozens of others who come every year to live with us and study music with my husband. Ira, I don't see him anywhere. Don't you know what he looks like? Huh? What's that, my dear? Oh, never mind. There, that looks like it might be him over there. Excuse me. Are you looking for Professor Whitmer? Oh, Professor Whitmer. Yeah, I'm Mark Allen. You'll have to talk to my wife. I can't hear you just now. Glad to know you, Mr. Whitmer. How do you do? You know those streamlined hearing devices, you see, advertising the papers all the time, Mr. Allen? I have one, but like an idiot, I left it at home. Well, that's something Beethoven would have liked to have been able to say, Professor. Yes. But you know, Mr. Allen, I think he'd rather have put up with being plain deaf. Excuse me, sir, but what about your bank? We have our car with us, Mr. Allen. Right. Just taking the car. Would you look after Mr. Allen's bag, my dear? I just did. It's the one right here. Just put the bags in the bag. Yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am. Here you are. I guess we can all ride in the front, can't we? After you, Mrs. Whitmer. See, Mr. Allen, my wife takes care of everything. That's what poor old Beethoven needed. Good, dependable life. Is this your first visit to California, Mr. Allen? That's right. Never been further west than Chicago before in my life. You'll find the climate a nice change anyway. What about you, Mrs. Whitmer? You, uh, native of California? Not exactly, but the professor and I have lived here ever since we were married. It's a great tragedy. A great conductor losing his hearing like that. It doesn't worry him so much. Now that he has his own protégés. Must be hard on you, though, sometimes. Why should it be hard on me? Oh, I just thought it might be. That's all. By the way, what's your first name, Mrs. Whitmer? Why, uh, Frenzy. Do you mind if I call you that? Sometimes? Well, of course not. You couldn't call me anything you like, Mr. Allen. Ira, there's the bell. Huh? What's that, my dear? There's a train coming. Oh, yes. Thank you, my dear. I'll give you a scare, Mr. Allen. I really shouldn't be driving without that fool device. My dear, would you like to drive? You drive? We're almost home now, anyway. Is, uh, this where we live? Uh-huh. This is Brooksville. Nice little town we live in. I certainly hope you'll enjoy it, Mr. Allen. I'm sure I will, Frenzy. That's all there was to it. And yet if he'd asked me to go away with him to Timbuktu that night, I'd have gone. But he didn't. He didn't ask me anything. He just watched me. Not like the musical genius he was supposed to be. He was rough and hard and strong. A kid from the wrong side of the tracks. A kid like me. And I was watching him. I was watching him all the time until one morning. Ira had gone into LA for the day. I was in the kitchen washing up the breakfast dishes. And he was supposed to be up in his room composing. But he wasn't composing any more than I was washing dishes. He was waiting for me to go up to him. He didn't have to wait long. Oh, pardon me. I was looking for my husband. The concert at the Philharmonic. He did? Oh, I wanted him to do an errand for me. Well, that's too bad. Oh, well, it'll have to wait until next week now, I suppose. He, uh, might remember and call you. He might? That's nice. What's it called? Overture. Overture and two keys. Oh. You asked me that before. At breakfast. Remember? Oh, yes. So I did. I'd forgotten. But look at me. Why, the professor would kill me if he caught me wasting your time like this. Maybe that's one reason you waited until he was out of the way. Wow. You want to hear the other reason? It's been on your mind ever since that first day at the station. Only a figure you'd wait. How do you make the first move? It's the way a dame always figures. Until she meets the right guy. Meaning you? I don't mean Santa Claus. What does that make me? Come here, darling. You like to play hard to get, don't you? Am I so hard to get? I've been going crazy. What do you think I've been doing? When does he get back? Late. How late? Six o'clock came too soon that night. It always came too soon. I think I'd read at that clock more than I'd read at Ira. We couldn't cheat on the clock. But with Ira, well, taking care of Ira wasn't a problem for any Einstein. But Mark was the one who had to do it. Mark had to fix it so that earphones or no earphones, Ira would be deaf. As deaf as an adder. Sometimes I couldn't understand why Mark got so upset over that part of it. He used to tell me that I never would understand. I wasn't a musician and I wasn't deaf. Well, anyway, I had plenty of other things to feel bad about. We both did. We were like two shipwrecks sailors dying of thirst and all we got to drink was salt water. You can stand that kind of thirst just so long. Hello. Hello yourself. Keep on playing. He just called off his LA appointment. What's up? He thinks he's in for the flu or something. Anyway, he's staying home all day. Lock the door, baby. Mark. He was talking about you. He said you decided to cut the course. I've taken in all about. About all he can teach me. Besides the doors running short. You're lying. But I'm glad you're lying. Mark, take me with you. We can go way together. Where? New York, Chicago, it doesn't matter. You follow us. You know that. The kind of guy who would track us down to the end of the earth. That makes you like the rest of them. That's all Ira thinks about his career. He cares about as much for me as... Okay, okay. As far as the law is concerned, your professor Whitmer's wife. And there isn't anything we can do about it. Isn't there, Mark? Nothing that makes sense. Mark. Does it make any sense to you? I've thought about it. You wanted to hear me say it, though. Didn't you? Don't look at me like that. We only didn't feel this way every time. But we do. Don't we? Ira! I must apologize for lowering myself to the role of a knee-dropper. Ira, please! Then it's also regrettable that you, Mr. Allen, should presume that my affliction would affect my powers of observation. For that matter, my tolerance. You'll kindly make arrangements to leave my house. I guess that's about the way it is, Professor. I've already taken the liberty, or should I say the precaution of reserving a ticket? To New York. We have 40 minutes to get to the Pasadena Station. I must talk to you. Undoubtedly, my dear. Mr. Allen is going to catch his train. I must go get the car. You might help Mr. Allen with his packing. What time do you have? 5 to 11. Yeah. We can just make it. Mark, you're not really going. Mark! No, it's right there on the piano. I thought you were forwarding a place. At least you can tell me where you're going. You heard him? New York. There's the car now. Mark! Mark, let me know if you should change your mind. I won't have to let you know, Franzi. I haven't changed my mind. After he left, I remember looking at the alarm clock beside his bed. It said 11 o'clock. Then I thought about what I'd be doing tomorrow at 11 o'clock. And the day after that and the next week and the next year. 11 o'clock for all the rest of my life would be the time he walked out of that door. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I just sat there listening to the clock. I must have sat there without moving for hours. Then I heard the bell. My first thought was that it was Ira. Automatically, I got up and walked downstairs to answer it. Good day, ma'am. You, Mrs. Whitmer? That's right. Lieutenant Scott, please head quarters. You know this gentleman here? Oh, yes. You must get ready for some bad news, Mrs. Whitmer. My husband? I've been in an accident. Lieutenant, I'm an old friend of the family. Maybe you better let me tell her. You'll have to give me some address then, Mr. Allen. Call me here. Pasadena 1213. That's only a matter of the next few days, you understand? I'll stay in town as long as you need me. Pasadena 1213. All right, Mr. Allen. Good day, Mrs. Whitmer. Goodbye. Goodbye, Lieutenant. Mark. Oh, Mark, I thought I was never going to see you again. It was pretty terrible. I had told him a couple of times to take it easy. He must have done 70 when we hit the main dragon. Maybe that's why I didn't recognize where we were. Anyway, I wouldn't have known we were that close to the crossing until I heard the bell. He still had time. If he'd thrown on his brakes when I hollered at him, it would have been all the time in the world. Maybe he thought he could make it, or maybe he just didn't hear me. I don't know. I just don't know. It was too late to grab the wheel. It was too late to do anything. That was when I jumped. Mark. The next thing I knew, there were cops all over the place. It was a dock there, too. I'd been here hours ago if I hadn't had to convince him, but I didn't need any ambulance. And Ira? And those cops, they asked more questions than... Mark. I asked you about Ira. Ira didn't need any ambulance either, Franzi. He was dead. For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Joan Bennett in Overture in Two Keys. Roma Wines' presentation tonight in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills. Suspense. Between the acts of suspense, this is Ken Niles for Roma Wines. These cold, blustery evenings, there's real pleasure in staying comfortably at home, listening to favorite radio programs, reading by the fireplace, and enjoying the mellow pleasure of a fine Roma wine. Yes, better tasting Roma California wines, Sherry, Port or Muscatel, add warmth and friendliness to quiet evenings and informal entertaining. And because Roma Wines taste better, more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. Roma Wines taste better because Roma begins with choicest grapes. Then with patient skill and America's finest winemaking resources, Roma guides these choice grapes unhurriedly to tempting taste perfection. Later, along with Roma Wines of years before, this rich, great treasure awaits selection from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. So share with your friends these better tasting Roma Wines. Insist on Roma, R-O-M-A, Roma Wines. And now Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage Joan Bennett as Franzi Whitmer with Howard Duff as Mark Allen in Overture in Two Keys. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. They held the inquest at the house. It took the coroner less than three minutes to return the verdict. Accidental death. I thought we should wait, but Mark said it wouldn't make any difference if people were going to talk, they'd talk anyway. So a couple of weeks later, we drove down to Yuma and got married. During the ceremony, I felt a little like laughing and much more like crying. And let me tell you, if you ever get married in one of those Yuma wedding chapels, you'll feel like crying too. On the outside, there are neon lights to tell you how they do business day and night. And on the inside, everything is strictly like a funeral parlor. Artificial lilies, incense, and of course an organ. And do you, Franzi Whitmer, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband to happen the whole of this day forward? I do. And do you, Mark Allen, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife? Hmm? I do, I do. I repeat, do you, Mark Allen, take this woman? Yes. Do you happen to hold from the stay forward until death do you part? Poor Mark. I kidded him afterwards about ploughing his lines and he acted very serious about the whole thing and tried to make out that he didn't hear that particular part. Well, I guess every man thinks that those words are written just to make him nervous and every woman thinks they are written just for her. At least I know I did. At first, we were as happy as any two people could possibly be. And then, it wasn't that anything changed but I began to worry about Mark. It was as though he were expecting something. Sometimes when he thought I wasn't watching him it almost seemed as though he were listening to something. A couple of nights ago, we had the party. It was kind of a send off for Mark's debut at the Bowl and it was a very Tony affair. All the longer. Imagine my humiliation, Mr. Allen, right in the middle of Mimi's death scene too. And afterwards he had the nerve to tell me there was nothing wrong with his voice. It was stage fright. Oh, I could have slaughtered that tenor. If you'll excuse me, Madam Tetra, I think my wife wants me. Oh, there, darling. Fine. Can't we get rid of these people? Eventually, I suppose. Here comes Stanley. Maybe he'll know how to cut it short. Well, it looks like a good party. You see, Mrs. Allen, you get an important manager and all the important artists visit your home. Now, can you get them all out of my home? Oh, no, you can't disappoint your public, Mark. What about playing something to sort of wind up the evening? How about the overtune? I know it won't sound on the piano, but after all, it is a fe... Now where is he going? You asked him to wind up the evening, didn't you? Well, how can I make an announcement if he doesn't tell me what he's going to play? Of course it wasn't anything important. Phone calls that come at a moment like that never are. It was just someone who wanted to wish Mark good luck tomorrow night. I said thanks and hung up. It wasn't until I was halfway back up the stairs that I knew something had gone wrong. What happened? There's nothing to be alarmed over, Mrs. Allen. Where's my husband? He's upstairs, resting. And what's the matter with him? Nothing at all, my dear. Really nothing at all. He was a little over-tired, so he went upstairs. If you ask me, Mrs. Allen, it's a plain case of stage fright. Well, I was telling him only the... I didn't wait for the rest. When I found him, he was just lying there, staring into the darkness. I wanted to hold him in my arms but he seemed like a long while later when I woke up. I didn't want to wake up. I was tired, dead tired, so tired that waking up hurt me all over. Only this time it hurt more than usual. Then suddenly I was sitting upright in bed with a chill running straight up my spine. The sound came from the music room. I fumbled for the light, but that didn't tell me anything I didn't know already. Mark's bed was empty. Somehow I got out of bed and walked downstairs. I kept walking until I was standing outside the music room door. If I'd been standing at the bar of judgment, I would have still said the same prayer. That the door would be locked, but it wasn't locked. The room was in darkness except for the small lamp on the bed. And there, looking like something out of a horror picture, sat my husband. I couldn't see his face, only his hands flying up and down in the lamp light. His knuckles were wet with blood. Mark! Darling, I had to do it. I had to do something. Talk to me. Keep on talking to me. What do you want me to say? Just keep talking and hold my hand. Oh, darling, look at your hands. Mark, tell me what's wrong. I don't understand. Everything was fine until I left the room to answer the phone. Was it a phone, Belle? I didn't hear any phone. Mark! I wouldn't have even known you'd come upstairs if it hadn't been for your perfume. Even then, I didn't believe it. Then I came down here. I played like this. I couldn't hear. Then I played louder. I still couldn't hear. I couldn't hear! Darling, don't, don't. You're all right now. Mark, it's often late. What time is it? Four o'clock in the morning. You do it, too. What did I do? Listen to see if your watch is going. It must be a reflex action. Even he did it. Mark! It always reminded me of Nelson putting his telescope to his blind eye. I don't suppose you understand about that. I don't suppose you understand about that. I don't suppose you understand about that. Even if you'd loved him, you'd never have known what it meant for a musician. To be deaf. Mark, there's only one thing I know I care about. I don't care about anything else in this world. I just don't care. Fran? Yes? You know, don't you? Yes, Mark. You've always known, haven't you? Yes, I suppose I have. I'm sorry, Fran. I don't care. I don't care about anything but you. It has an awful sound. Murder. As I sat watching him walk across the great stage of the Hollywood Bowl, I wanted to pray. But I knew I hadn't even the right to do that. All I could do was think of what he must be thinking. How he must have timed it to the split second. How he must have snipped the wire on the earphones so I wouldn't notice it. How he must have felt when they were coming to the railroad crossing and he heard the warning bell to hear anything. Mark had planned it that way. He had killed my husband because he couldn't hear a little bell. It's true, please. Please, I have to get... I'm his wife. Thank heaven. That's all right, doctor. Mrs. Allen, the press are outside. You must talk to them. Mark, I heard the bell. Darling, it's all right. It's all right. I'm here with you. It's me, Franzy. Didn't you hear it? I've seen him in my life. The doctor was as pleased as an old midwife and insisted that it was the sedative that had done the trick. I wish he'd been right. But you see, by then I was beginning to see what was wrong with Mark. And I knew that all the doctors in the world wouldn't do him any good. But I still dared to hope that somehow I could. All right, come on, let's go. Don't you want me to drive home? I'm okay now. Oh, you mustn't cry, baby. I'm okay now. Let's go away from here right away to Canada, someplace for a year longer if you want. Even if you don't even look at a note of music, it doesn't matter. You'll be right away from everything and then it won't happen anymore. I know it. If you'll only get away right away, even from me if that would help. Where should we go? Florida? New York? Oh, darling. You know it's about time you saw something else but palm trees. Let's make it New England, why don't you let me drive? You can't with one hand. I can too. Mark, you know I was wondering, can you get double sleeping bags in Vermont? Mark, Mark, you'd better slow down. Yeah, maybe Canada. Mark, we're coming to the crossing. There's a train. Mark! They say you can almost hear how quiet it is some places in the woods up there. Mark! That's how the music ended. They told me today that he was dead This is Ken Niles, returning to our stage with a lovely star of tonight's suspense play, glamorous favorite of movie going millions but a newcomer to suspense fans, Miss Joan Bennett. Welcome to the suspense family, Joan, and congratulations. Your performance was wonderful. Thank you, Ken, but I'd like to share some of the compliments with Howard Duff, who played the composer so wonderfully. And as a token of our appreciation, here's a gift basket of Roma wines Thank you, Ken, and thanks to Roma. Among the fine Roma wines in your gift basket, Joan, is Roma muscatel, a wine to add warmth to your welcome when friends drop in. A delightful taste treat with desserts, too, rich in the tempting fragrance and distinctive taste of the world-famous muscat grape. Better tasting Roma muscatel is a mellow, satisfying wine born in California, praised by Americans from coast to coast. Yes, Ken, Roma muscatel by Joan, Roma muscatel, like all Roma wines, begins with choicest grapes. Then Roma vintner skill and America's finest winemaking resources guide these luscious grapes unhurriedly to tempting taste perfection. Later, along with Roma wines of years before, this rich grape treasure awaits selection from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. No wonder more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. You've convinced me. And now may I remind our listeners of something, 1946 saw the worst epidemic in 30 years of infantile paralysis. We must fight this brutal child crippler and guarantee medical care and treatment to all victims. Join the March of Dimes. Send your dimes and dollars care of your local March of Dimes headquarters today. Thank you and good night. Joan Bennett appeared to the courtesy of Diana Productions, and next Thursday, same time, you will hear Roddy McDowell as star of Suspense. Produced and directed by William Spear for the Roma wine company of Fresno, California. Stay tuned for the thrilling adventures of the FBI in peace and war, following immediately over most of these stations. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.