 Inner Sanctum Mysteries. Good evening friends of the creaking door. This is your host to welcome you into the Inner Sanctum once again. Come in. You know, so many people have asked me to explain the significance of the creaking door, but I don't really have to. You see, the door creaks for itself. I was going to have a friend of mine here tonight to give you a short explanation. Being an undertaker by profession, he's an authority on the subject, but he couldn't make it. He's been so busy, poor chap. He's literally buried in his work. My friend, let's get dreadful. Now remember, don't scream back at the radio. I'd want to hear any kind. Then listen as we hear our star and see more in the role of Catherine Brine. Tell us this story in her own words. The flash of lightning, like a giant white electric light, lit up the sky that night as I went up the walk. And Brine Manchin looked like a huge gable tomb standing there on the hill. For a moment I wanted to run, but much as I hated it, I'd come back. Not because I lived there. Not because I wanted to be there. But because of this house, I should find out if I was going to live or if I was going to die. I let myself in quietly, made my way to the living room. There was a rustling of skirts, and Mother suddenly appeared in the dim, shadowy lights. Cathy, Cathy, dear. Hello, Mother. Oh, you're so late. I was getting worried. Was my stepfather worried too? Why, yes, dear. Mark is still up. Dear, you've got to take your coat off. It's so through. Don't you touch me. Cathy, darling. Don't start sniveling over me again, Mother. I can't stand it. I was just trying to help you. Always trying to help me. Why didn't you think of helping me before you married that man upstairs? But no, you're such a pretty woman, Mother. You couldn't possibly be without a husband. What would people say? Catherine, please, you can't go on like this. No, I can't. I can't go on very much longer without destroying myself. You must not say such things. And why not? But make you and Mark very happy if I should die. Wouldn't it? Catherine. No one in this house wants me to go on living. Good evening, Catherine. Mark, I didn't know you were here. I'm aware of that. I heard you. Mark, she didn't mean it. She didn't mean a word of it. No, but I did. Now that you're both here, there's something I must find out tonight. It's very important. What is it? Ten years ago, my father died. Catherine, we can't discuss that now. We must. I've got to know certain things. Why? Because if I don't, something quite dreadful might happen to me. Now, Catherine, you're exaggerating. Dr. Wells doesn't think so. I've been going to him for months now. He knows there's grave danger that I'll go completely out of my mind if I don't find out about this. My poor darling. Don't pity me, Mother. Help me. Tell me how my father died. You know you were there. But Catherine, there's nothing to tell you. Your father was killed in an accident. He was a doctor. That will be enough, Laura. Mark. We'll call Dr. Wells the first thing in the morning and discuss the matter with him. Why don't you let her tell me? What have you got to hide? We are not going to discuss this until I speak to Dr. Wells. Now, Laura, I suggest you come upstairs as soon as possible. Good night, Catherine. Mother, he's gone. You are going to tell me. Where was this accident? How did it happen? Who was involved? Cathy, you're in no state to hear anything right now. Mark was right. We should speak to Dr. Wells about it first. Yes. Speak to him so you both can make up an appropriate lie to tell me. I don't want any lies. I want the truth, Mother. And I'm prepared to go to any length to get it. Look at this. Now, Catherine... Look at it, I tell you. Look at it. What? What is it? A woman sold it to me today. A strange little woman. It's a sort of tiny, painted tile. Not just an ordinary tile, Mother. It comes from the Orient woman, said. Do you see this very odd design? If you look at it long enough, she said, a strange thing will happen. You'll find yourself able to talk with the dead. See them wherever they are. Catherine, I'm going to talk to my father. You can't be serious. You won't tell me what I want to know. Then maybe the dead will. Mother left the room. And I sat down in front of the fireplace. Just as I used to when I was a child. I looked at the tile. At the design. The parallel lines and dots began to dance before my eyes. I stared at it. It seemed to hold, control my gaze. And then almost at once, I felt an icy chill and the design vanished. In its place there was black, infinite space. Filled with shadows and still shadows beyond shadows. Then I noticed a speck of gray come out of that blackness. There was a strange, sulfurous odor in the air. As it came toward me, at first, very slowly, and gradually faster and faster, as though it were coming to me through endless years of space. Suddenly there was an ear-shattering thunderclap. A streak of lightning zigzagged through the room in an insane dance. And I heard the front door close. I heard footsteps approaching. I turned around, faced the doorway, and then I saw him. Don't scream. Who are you? You are Cathy, Cathy Brine. You know me? I did, ten years ago. Where did you come from? Tell me, how do I appear to you? How you appear? Yes, please. You have white hair, white beard, but your eyes, no, it can't be. What can't be? That my eyes are the eyes of a corpse? That I look more like a dead man than a living one? Yes. That should not be so strange. Who are you? Did you know my father? Doctor Brine, very well. Very well indeed. How did they die? I want to know that. He was murdered. Murdered? Yes, murdered. How do you know? I saw it all. You? I was punished for it. You murdered him? No, I didn't kill him. He was the only friend I had in the world. That's why I came back here tonight. Didn't you ever know how your father died? No. Would you like to know? More than anything in the world. He was the kindest of men, and that's what led to his destruction. He took a man under his care, a man who had been given up as a raving maniac, and rather than see this man placed in an institution, he kept him in the guest cottage of his house. Wait. Wait, I remember now. The man was a poet. Yes. His name was Dennis the Moor. Your father believed this man was a great poet and struggled to save him. Did this man murder my father? No. No. One evening when your father came in to treat the Moor, there was a third man in the darkened cottage. This man leaped at your father and drove a knife into his back. The poor madman, frightened, ran over the countryside until he was caught by the police. And he was charged with the murder of your father. You... You said you saw all this. I did. Then you are... The madman, Dennis the Moor. You... You're dead? Perhaps I am. The murderer. Who was the person who murdered my father? You know him quite well. He's the man who's now married to your mother, Mark Weldon. Can you prove this? Your father is the only one who can prove this. My father, can you bring him back here? Bring him back? You came back. If you could only bring him, then prove this. Prove it? Perhaps I can. Perhaps I will bring him back tonight. Just then, there was a tremendous thunderclap and the electric lights failed. I tried to see him by the firelight, but he wasn't in the room. I ran to the door, stumbling over furniture and the shadows and screaming for him to wait. I opened the front door, but he wasn't there. Kathy, we heard you screaming. Did you, mother? What happened? I... I found out how my father died. Really? How? He was murdered. Laura, did you tell her anything? No, not a word, Mark. I swear. Kathy, how did you find out? I told you how I'd find out. That... that tile? Yes, it worked. That's impossible. Of course you'd say that. But I discovered tonight that you, Mark, murdered my father. That you cleverly arranged that a poor patient of his named Dennis D'Amour would be arrested for the crime that you committed. Who told you this? Dennis D'Amour. D'Amour? Was he here? Yes, he told me everything. And you believed him? Why shouldn't I? Why, the man's a maniac. I don't know how he ever got here. He should be at the state institution for the criminally insane. Number, please. Hello, operator. Will you put through a call to the state institution for the criminally insane at Blighton? I wish to speak to whomever is in charge. And call me back as soon as you get them. It's urgent. Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you. Now, Catherine, you claim you actually spoke to this man? Yes, Mark. He told me he saw you murder my father. Why, you're lucky you escaped with your life. The man is a homicidal maniac. I find it shocking that you should even begin to believe this fantastic story. But it seems to be true, Mark, doesn't it? My father was murdered. And Dennis D'Amour was sent away for the crime. Yes, yes. That part of it is true. But to accuse me... Laura, we tolerated her in this enough. But this is... Hello. Hello. Oh, yes. Hello, Dr. King. This is Mark Weldon speaking. Has one of your patients, Dennis D'Amour, escaped? What? Yes, that's right. A homicidal maniac. In a fire that broke out in this place? Yes. Yes, I heard you. Thank you. Goodbye. Mark, what is it? Dennis D'Amour is dead. He was killed two years ago. Would you like to have a little Chinese tile that can produce dead men? Or don't you think that Dennis D'Amour is a ghost? Perhaps you think he's just an old Popeye poltergeist? Well, we'll know in a moment. As we hear Catherine Brine tell us the second half of her weird story. My stepfather's hand trembled as he hung up the phone. And even in the red glow of the firelight, I could see his face that suddenly turned red. It's impossible. The dead can't come back. Unless you're making up this whole thing, Cappy. Why should I embed a story like this? Because you've always been insanely jealous. You've always hated your mother for marrying me. Isn't that true, Laura? Isn't it? Yes. It's true. There. You see, Catherine, your mother loves you. She wouldn't lie. Now tell us the truth. You made up this whole wild tale about Dennis D'Amour, didn't you? No, Mark. I didn't invent it. Dennis D'Amour was here. He couldn't have been. He's been dead for two years. Then how would I know the things I told you? I don't know. And that's what you've got to explain. Mark, why does this upset you so? If you didn't murder him, what difference does it make about D'Amour? Why are you so frightened? I'm not frightened. I'm not frightened. Why are you so frightened? I'm not frightened. I'm just determined to get to the bottom of this thing. What was that? Just the thunder, Mark. Laura, why are you looking at me like that? Like what? Staring at me. As though you've seen me for the first time. Do you believe this mad story Catherine's told us? Do you think I murdered her father? I just remembered certain things, Mark. I can't help it if I think of them now. What things? Tell me what things? Two days before the murder, you told me you were in love with me. I sent you away, told you never to come to this house again. Go on. On the night of the murder, I saw you standing in the moonlight, near the guest cottage. You did? I thought I was mistaken, especially since you claimed you were at home that night. Oh, Mark, don't be angry with me. I can't help it thinking of these things now. It's only natural. Natural? Is it natural for a man's wife to accuse him of a crime like murder? And on the basis of what? The word of a psychopathic girl who should have been confined long ago. She talked to a man who's been dead for two years. I suppose you believe that too. And who is this man, even assuming that he's alive? A madman. A homicidal maniac who took your first husband's life when your husband tried to cure him. Well, I've had enough of this. Mark, what are you taking out of that drawer? Kathy, come here. Why, Mark, put the gun away. Shut up, Lola. Oh, Kathy, I won't hurt you unless you try something dangerous. I'm holding this gun because I believe your mother and I are no longer safe in the same room with you. Now I want the truth. You were lying to us before, weren't you? No. Very well then. Where is this man, you saw? I'd like to see him, too. I don't know. Of course you don't because he doesn't exist. He does. He appeared when I looked at the Chinese tile. The Chinese tile? Good. Look at your Chinese tile now. Make him appear. You'll do as I tell you. Look at that tile. Go on. All right, I will. Now, what do you see? Nothing but the design. Yes, and that's all you're going to see. No. The design is fading. It's getting dark. Dark. Nothing but blackness. I heard the front door. Someone just came in. Yes. Those footsteps. That's just how he came in the last time. Perhaps, but I doubt if it's... Good evening. It is, Demor. You remember me, Laura. Yes. You've changed a great deal, but it is you. Mr. Weldon, it's been ten years since I've seen you. Demor, then you're not dead. There must have been some mistake when I identified you. Not dead. You escaped. Someone must have been identified instead of you. That's the only explanation. It depends on what you choose to believe, Mr. Weldon. I brought a guest with me. My father. Dr. Brine, I'm sure you know these people quite well. Of course you do. What's he saying? He's talking to my father. That's right, Kathy. Unfortunately, you cannot see him. But he's here, aren't you, Doctor? Demor, what are you up to? What do you think? If you come back here to make trouble... Double. I've come back because someone wanted to know the truth. And I've brought the doctor back for the same reason. Doctor, before these others, I want you to tell us who murdered you. Who murdered you? Mark, you shot him. Yes. Why? Why? He's dangerous. A maniac. That's not the reason. It's because you murdered my father. And you don't want us to know. All right, Kathy. I did kill him. Mark. He doesn't make any difference now. This maniac has planted suspicion in your minds. You would have found out sooner or later. Mark! Yes. I killed him. For you, Laura. I loved you. But that's over now. It's been over for a long time. I know what to do now. And it's going to be very simple. Thanks to our friend lying there. What are you going to do? Don't you know, Laura? It's so simple. Your bodies must be found in such a condition that they will be certain D'Amour killed you. And then I'll tell them how I shot the homicidal maniac to protect myself. It's the same way. He killed my father. Yes, Kathy. You won't die, Catherine. D'Amour. Did you think you could kill me, Weldon? D'Amour. Do you think those shots will stop me? Don't you come near me. Stand back! Nothing will stop me, Weldon. The gun is empty. Now, don't let go of me. Let's strike D'Amour. They hit him, but they didn't stop him from lurching toward Mark and seizing him by the throat. As they fell to the floor, the kerosene lamp fell off its table. It might have been the wind, but I believe otherwise. I'm almost certain it was my father. In a moment the drapes were on fire and the whole place was blazing. I screamed to my mother to leave. She ran with me out of the blazing building into the storm that raged outside. Two weeks later, my mother came into the hotel room where we were staying. I've just come from the police, Kathy. Well, mother? Only one body is positively identified. Whose? Mark's. The other body? They haven't been able to find it in the rubble. I don't believe they ever will. But Kathy, the police, checked with the authorities at the state institution. It seems that some of the patients did escape at the time. They had the fire there two years ago. It's possible that the Moor was among them. It's possible, but I doubt it. You think the Moor died two years ago? Yes, mother. Don't you? Well, friends, I guess you've met ghosts before, but I'm sure this is the first time you've ever met a crazy spook. Or don't you think Dennis the Moor was a ghost? Well, there's only one way to find out if ghosts really exist. Just ask one to haunt you sometime. You'll be sure to listen, won't you? Until next week, then. Good night. Pleasant dreams. Inner Sanctum has come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.