 And now, the Mole Mystery Theater, presented by M-O-L-L-E. Mole, the brushless shaving cream that guards your tender skin with its special protective film. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Jeffrey Barnes welcoming you to the program that presents the best in mystery and detective fiction. Our story tonight is entitled The Joconda Smile and was written by one of the outstanding literary figures of our time. Aldous Huxley. It is the story of a man named Henry Hutton whose life is intimately involved with three women, three different types of women. Yet having one thing in common, all three are in love with Henry Hutton. It is a story full of hate, love, jealousy and passion, and it leads inevitably to the murder of one of the women. Henry Hutton was a successful man. He had a prosperous business in town, a beautiful home in the country, a car and a chauffeur. On the other side of the picture was Hutton's wife, Emily, a self-pitting individual who made herself a martyr to the various ailments of which she continually complained. It was to be expected then that Henry Hutton should seek his happiness in other places. We find him now in his chauffeur-driven car, and with him is the lovely young girl, 15 years his junior. Darling, I've had a wonderful time. I do love driving in the country. It's been wonderful being with you, darling. I'm so glad you think so, but sometimes I'm afraid. Afraid of what? Is it wrong? Are going out together? Well, all depends on how you look at it. Is it wrong to expect a little happiness out of life? Maybe it is when it makes somebody else unhappy. Well, if you were thinking about my wife, Emily, you'd need too much too busy feeling sorry for yourself to be concerned about this. No, no, but sometimes I... Now don't you worry about your pretty little head anymore. Well, here's where I leave you. McNabe will take you home. You're going to see that expensive woman again, aren't you? I've promised my wife I'd drop in and invite Janet over for lunch tomorrow. I don't like that woman. I actually believe you're jealous. After all, Janet's only a friend of my wife. Jealous of her? She's twice as old as I am. And not nearly as pretty. Besides, I don't care a hoot for her. See you tomorrow night. What if I say no? No, but you won't, will you? Oh, darling, I do love you so much. What a delightful surprise. Hello, Janet. Won't you sit down, Henry? Well, I really can't stay long. Emily asked me to drop by my way home. Oh, how he is, Emily. Not much better, I'm afraid. But she hopes to be well enough to see you at lunch tomorrow. Can you come? I'd love to. If you think she's well enough to have a visitor. Of course. You'll do her good. It was both good. Married life three is often better company than two. How cynical. Oh, I still believe in the ideal. Marriage between two people in perfect tune with each other. That is something worth hoping for. You know, Henry, I envy you. Envy me? Why? You really have two lives. Two lives? Well, for one, there's your life out here in the country, where you have fresh air, sunshine and unimportant people who envy you. Yes, and my other life? Your life as a business executive in town, where you meet important people, make important decisions. Oh, that. Janet, why don't you take on a position in the city? I've always felt you'd make a wonderful career woman. I've often thought of it, Henry, but I'm afraid it's too late. I've gotten used to doing nothing, and I've got the money to do it with. Oh, well, I've really got to be running along now. Then you'll come tomorrow? Of course. Fine, I know Emily will be looking forward to your visit. Yes, Emily. Oh, I'm so glad you're home. Isn't it rather hot in here? Really, dear. You know I have to keep warm. I hope you're better this evening. Oh, not much, I'm afraid. Dr. Libet thinks I ought to go to the wells for the summer. Well, go, my dear, go. I'm to drink the waters and have a massage and electric treatment, too. I'm sure it'll do you good. I was wondering if you'd come with me, dear. You know I'm going to Scotland on business the end of the month. Oh, it's a long trip. The thought of it is such a nightmare. Oh, and I don't know if I can manage it. You know I can't sleep in hotels, and then there's the luggage. No, no, I can't go alone. But you won't be alone, you'll have Anna with you. I don't think I'll be able to manage with just my maid. But you must, my dear, if the doctor tells you. Besides, a change will do you good. I don't think so. Dr. Libet thinks so, and he knows what he's talking about. No, I can't face it. I'm too weak. I can't go alone. Emily, please, for having safety reasonable. I'd rather be left here to die in peace. I'll see you to your car, Dr. Libet. Thank you, Emily. There's something I wanted to ask you. Yes, Emily? I know it's a dreadful thing to ask, but is Emily really as sick as she makes out? No, but Emily is the type of woman who thrives on sympathy. To be impatient with her. That only aggravates her condition, which is none too good. That's what I want to know, Dr. Libet. Is it likely that she'll ever be well again? It depends on a number of things. I really couldn't promise. I see. Thank you, Dr. Libet. That was a simply marvelous luncheon. I love eating out here in the garden. It is nice, isn't it, Janet? Dr. Libet says the air is good for me. Janet, I'll never be able to thank you enough for recommending that man. Dr. Libet is a dear. It's so reassuring to have a doctor like that, especially in my condition. Of course, you poor dear. Where's Henry? He's seeing Dr. Libet out. Oh, here he comes now. Janet's wonderful, dear. She's really done me a world of good. Mrs. Hutton. Shall I take the things away now? Yes, but leave the coffee. Mr. Hutton, they want another cup. Oh, I do believe it's time for my medicine. Would you mind, Anna? I'll fetch it, ma'am. Never mind, Anna. I'll get it. I'm going in for my place. He's really such a dear, Janet. Poor man, sometimes I think it's not fair to him. Oh, I dare say everyone has problems of one sort or another. Oh, of course, you poor dear. It can't be very pleasant for you. All alone in that big house with not a soul to keep you company. There's always spotty. Just think I can talk to him for hours and he never answers back. Oh, I suppose it's better to joke about it. But just the same, you must get pretty lonely sometimes. Yes, I suppose I do. Here you are. Here's your medicine, dear. Thank you, Henry. Oh, I do hate the horrid tasting stuff. But Dr. Libet seems to think it's helping me. In that wine glass, it looks just like Sherry. Isn't it sweet of her, Henry? Always trying to make things pleasant for the poor in the room. Oh, awful. I pour you a cup of coffee. That ought to take the taste away. Dr. Libet thinks you're doing quite nicely, dear. I'm so glad. Here you are, Emily. Here's your coffee. I put sugar in it. Thank you, Janet. I do feel much better this afternoon. But I'm tired. As soon as I finish my coffee, Henry, would you help me to my room? Of course, dear. She'll be all right. I'm afraid she's not doing it all well, Henry. Well, I thought you cheered up so much when you came. That was nerve. Just nerve. I've been watching her. In her condition, anything might happen. Libet doesn't seem to think there's any immediate danger. Emily asked me to give you her apologies. I really feel terribly sorry for her, Henry. And for you. Couldn't we go somewhere and talk this whole thing out? I have an engagement in town. I promised to go over to the Johnson's. Can I drop you anywhere? No, thank you. Well, I'll say goodbye then. Goodbye. And do try to come and see me again soon. I thought you'd like this, please, Doris. You know the nicest faces, and you're the nicest man. And I think you've had just about enough wine for one evening. Something the matter? I didn't sleep too well last night. I'm a little tired. Oh, you poor man. Why do you always keep speaking of Emily? Oh, darling, I was... You think I like to be constantly reminded that I'm treating my wife so badly? I'm a selfish, unfeeling... Nobody said you were. I had to tell her another lie tonight. Said I was going to the Johnson's. You're unhappy. It's all my fault. Oh, no, Doris. It's not your fault. It's not anybody's fault. Maybe you didn't see me anymore. No, I couldn't bear that, Doris. I was detained. My car had a breakdown. Emily was anxious to see you. I'll go up to see you now. Too late. Too late? Yes. Her wife is dead. And so Emily Hutton is dead. She was a pitiable woman. As Dr. Libbard said, she was a woman who thrived on sympathy. Oh, I need sympathy. This is awful. It's terrible. Every time I shave. Day after day. It's dreadful. Oh, I need sympathy. My friend, you don't need sympathy. What you need is moley, the brushless shaving cream that puts face protection first. Moley helps guard your face against irritating little necks and scrapes because it has a special protective film, a slick, smooth, moist film with more real body and substance than light, fluffy shaving cream. Moley gives your razor something to ride on. Your razor rides along smoothly from the first stroke to the last without pulling or tugging at your whiskers. And then your tender skin gets the very best of protection against aftershave burn and irritation. Moley is made with ingredients of assured quality. Ingredients that meet the official U.S. pharmacopoeia requirements for medical purity. So gentlemen, try moley. The brushless shaving cream that puts face protection first. And now back to Jeffrey Barnes and act two of tonight's play. Henry Hutton returned from a rendezvous to discover his wife had died a half hour before he returned. Dr. Liburd, the family physician diagnosed the cause of a death as heart failure. After his wife's death, Henry Hutton came to a decision. Dear Doris, I don't think it right that we should continue seeing each other. I know this letter is going to make you unhappy, but believe me, it is all for the best. Don't write to me anymore. Dear, please forgive me for writing, but I cannot help it. You don't know how awful I felt when I heard about your wife's death last month. I'm so lonely and frightened that I can't think of going on without you to give me courage. I'm going up to the seashore next week. It'll be wonderful. Well, don't you, darling? I wouldn't be here if I didn't. No, so afraid you meant what you said in that awful letter. After all, there's no point in my becoming a hermit, is there? I do love it up here. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come. What are you thinking about? I'm thinking how wonderful it would be if time could stand still. There could be no past, no future, only this moment with its sense of freedom. Darling, whatever became of that sense woman. Janet? You should mention her. You have? Yes, she's really quite a character, you know. Yes, so you told me. I'm going to pay her a visit tomorrow. Why? She asked me to come. Well, you don't have to go, do you? No, but I'm going. You're not in love with her, are you? I'm not in love with anybody, but you... Then why are you going? I'm curious about Janet. I feel as if I never really knew her at all. I see. And you think she might be worth knowing? Oh, are you Janet? Fine. Henry, remember that suggestion you once made, that I open up a little art gallery? Yes. Well, I've been giving it a great deal of thought, and I've decided to go ahead and try it. Splendid. I've made inquiries in the city, and I think I've got the perfect location. There's only one thing that makes me hesitate. What's that? I've absolutely no head for business. I'd be glad to offer you whatever advice I can. You don't understand, Henry. As a partner. But I can't. I have a business of my own to look at. It wouldn't take up too much of your time. I'm afraid I couldn't, Janet. But Henry, I wouldn't have the courage to go into it alone. Well, I'll be only too glad to advise you about the business. It's not just the advice I need, Henry. It's your business sense, your ability to deal with people. I'm afraid it's out of the question. I couldn't come in with you as a partner. Oh. Henry, don't you think everyone has a right to a certain amount of happiness? Of course. Fate hasn't treated either of us very kindly. It might have treated me worse. You're being cheerful, but I can see behind the mask. You were lonely for so long. You had no real companionship in your marriage. I'm afraid that was more of my fault than Emily's. You were so patient. You never complained, but I could guess. Guess what, Janet? That you were in love with me. I honored you, Henry, for respecting the marriage tie, even when it was an unhappy one. But we're free now. Henry, I've been so unhappy. So lonely. Janet, please, do try and calm yourself. Janet, please. I love it up here in the mountains. We couldn't have picked a nicer place for our honeymoon. It's so cool here on the port. Hmm? Yes, it is nice. I wish we never had to go back to that dreadful city. What are you thinking about, darling? Nothing. Are you worried about anything? Oh, not about that horrible spent woman again. Tell me, Henry. But, my dear, there's nothing to tell. I think you'd better go in and just getting rather chilly. All right, dear. Oh, here's a letter I just came for you. It's from Dr. Liver. Oh, thanks. Will you be coming in soon? In a moment. So, people are beginning to talk about my marriage to Doris. Well, let's watch this. Better come back to London. Janet Spence is telling everyone you poisoned your wife to disturb you at your office. That's all right, Henry. I heard back as soon as I got your letter. It's a pretty nasty business, Henry. Janet Spence has stirred up a hornet's nest against you. She's a jealous, malicious gossip. I have a good mind to sue her for slander. She went to the police. Police? Emily's body was exhumed. Traces of arsenic were found in her stomach. Arsenic? You mean she was poisoned? Yes. You seem to take it for granted that I killed Emily. If they do anything to you, I'll kill myself. You'll listen to me. Nobody's going to do anything to me. The most ridiculous thing I ever heard. Oh, darling. Forgive me. I'm so frightened. There's nothing to be afraid of. There's only a lot of circumstantial evidence. The coroner's jury will never commit me for trial. Did they ask you a lot of questions today? Yes. What kind of questions? Another woman. They asked you that? Yes, I'll answer it. Yes, comfortable. Sorry, sir, but you'll have to come along with me. The coroner's verdict? Willful murder, sir. You'll have to stand trial. I saw them kissing in the back of the car often. They went for a drive the day and Mrs. Hutton's death. There was enough arsenic and sexicide in Mr. Hutton's greenhouse to poison an army. The poison must have been administered eight or nine hours before death. Mr. Hutton brought the medicine already poured out in a wine glass. There can be only one verdict. Henry Hutton poisoned his wife. He is guilty of willful murder. It's nothing seriously wrong, Jenna. Just a nervous upset. A few days rest around the house and you'll be all right. I guess everything's been too much for me, Dr. Libert. The trial and all was quite upsetting having to testify against Henry Hutton. For Henry. Today the court set the date for his execution. To think that I entertained him in this house. How could I have been so mistaken about a man's character? It was rather sharp to all of us. And then to run off with a girl like that. Shall I bring the tea now, Miss Ben? Oh, yes, Anna. Hello, Anna. Don't you recognize me? I'm Dr. Libert. I didn't know you were working for Miss Ben now. Oh, yes, sir, Dr. Libert. Oh, and I'm that grateful to Miss Ben for offering me the position. I don't know anybody else I'd rather be working for. Now that poor Mrs. Hutton is dead, that's sweet of you, Anna. Oh, Dr. Libert, did I tell you what happened to Spotty? No, what happened? He was playing in the garden this morning. He apparently ate something that made him sick before we could call in the veterinarian. He died. Oh, that's too bad. Did Mrs. Hutton have anything to eat or drink after she took the medicine? No, she didn't. Oh, yes, ma'am. Excuse me, Miss Spence, but don't you remember? Mrs. Hutton had a cup of coffee. Oh, of course. How stupid, my forgetting, I poured it for her myself to take away the taste of the medicine. I see. Well, I've got to run along now. I'll drop in again tomorrow. Dr. Libert, I wasn't expecting you till morning. I just thought I'd drop by on my way home. Well, if you've been worried about your patients, you needn't be. I'm feeling much better. Janet, it was you who poisoned Emily Hutton. Dr. Libert? Wasn't it? I don't think I understand. That cup of coffee you gave Mrs. Hutton after she took the medicine. Oh, you think I... Really, Dr. Libert, it's too ridiculous. I took the liberty of having an autopsy performed on your dog this afternoon. An autopsy? Yes, he died of arsenic poisoning. Oh, no, he didn't. He couldn't. Janet told me you keep a large quantity of arsenic weed killer for your garden. Yes, but I don't... He must have gotten hold of one of the containers. With a loose cover. Oh, no. That's too horrible. Too horrible. You loved Henry Hutton, didn't you? I wanted him to be free. I was so lonely. So lonely. News for you. Dr. Libert, I've made my peace with God. I'd rather be alone than my last night. But this isn't your last night, Henry. You're free. Free? Janet Spence confessed. Confessed what? She poisoned Emily's coffee. Janet Spence did that? Yes. You knew she was in love with you, didn't you? I knew that. Yes, but... Oh, Lord, what a ghastly joke. Henry. What's the matter? Oh, no. No. It's too ironical. Janet. Janet poisoning Emily's coffee. So I'd be free to marry hers. But... I put the arsenic in Emily's medicine, so I'd be free to... to marry Doris. Well, mystery fans, that was a strange climax. Emily Hutton was killed by two people, and both of them were motivated by love. It's rather frightening the things that people will do because of love. Oh, you're telling me, Mr. Barnes? I used to get in plenty of trouble. All because of love. See, my girlfriend always wanted me to look smooth. Smooth? Yeah, she wouldn't see me unless I just had a shave. A clothes shave. And, Mr., those little nicks and scrapes I used to get drove me nuts. But them days are over now. Oh, what did you do? Get rid of the girl? Oh, no, sir. I just changed to Moley. Yes, gentlemen. Moley protects your face against annoying little nicks and scrapes because it's got a special protective film, a moist, smooth film with plenty of real body and substance. When you use Moley, your razor rides along smoothly from the first stroke to the last. Shaves clothes and clean without pulling or tugging at your whiskers. So, gentlemen, try Moley. You'll find that your shaves will get better, better, and better when you use M-O-L-L-E. Moley, the brushless shaving cream that puts face protection first. This is Jeffrey Barnes again, ladies and gentlemen, inviting you to be with us next week when we present the very latest adventure in crime from the pen of the very popular William Irish. The original music for the Moley Mestre Theater is conducted by Jack Miller. The G-Con to Smile was written by Aldous Huxley and adapted for radio by Eric Arter. Until next Tuesday, this is Dan Seymour saying good night and good shaving with the brushless shaving cream that puts face protection first. Moley! I'm as pale as a sheet and I'm dog-tired every day. If you find yourself saying that, your doctor may find you have a borderline anemia resulting from a ferro-nutritional deficiency of the blood. Then make up your mind to win back a glowing complexion, red-blooded vigor with iron-I-geese tablets. Iron-I-geese tablets are made to help build up red blood cells to help you have the healthy, vital feeling that should be yours. Insist on I-Y. Iron-I-geese tablets. This is the National Broadcasting Company.