 And now, a tale well-calculated to keep you in suspense. In a moment, act one of For Chance to Dream, starring Paul McGrath is Dr. Locke, and written especially for suspense by Barb Corcoran. Well, Mrs. Foster, this meeting is certainly under more pleasant circumstances than our first. Yes. I'll never forget the day you called me, Dr. Locke. Please sit down. Thank you. But now you're giving my husband back to me fully recovered, and I do want to thank you for all you've done. Uh, yes. Dr. Locke, is anything wrong? Isn't Paul all right? Well, Mrs. Foster, this is a general hospital, and as far as the abrasions, broken arms, skull fracture are concerned, we were able to affect a complete recovery, but, uh... Well, uh... What is it? What's wrong? Now, when you visited your husband here, did he ever mention Ernest Masterson? No. He's the man whose wife... ...was killed by your husband's car. Well, should Paul talk about it? I mean, isn't it better forgotten? Well, some things can never be forgotten, and even worse, some things are remembered wrongly. Wrongly? Yes, this was an unfortunate accident. A sudden blowout, the car whipped onto the sidewalk, and Masterson, who was badly injured, and his wife was killed. Now, you know it was an accident. I know it's an accident. We remember it that way. The police, the car and his jury agreed that no one was to blame. Even Masterson has taken that attitude. But you're afraid that Paul doesn't? I'm pretty sure he doesn't. You see, since the accident was nearby, both your husband and Masterson were brought to this hospital. Masterson is making a good recovery, despite a rather weak heart, but it's taking longer because he's older. Has Paul said anything to him that makes you think something is wrong? Uh... Your husband won't talk to him. Won't talk to him? Why not? I'm not sure. It seems that your husband blames himself for the death of Masterson's wife out of all proportion to the truth. He's often depressed and forced. He doesn't talk. He's often nervous, irritable. I've tried to talk to him, and Masterson's been to his room repeatedly trying to show him there's no grudge that he shouldn't go on accusing and blaming himself. But we haven't been able to do a thing. Guilt is a burden not easily thrown down, and it can become unbearable. Can't we do something? I suggested a psychiatrist might come in and talk with him. He was very clear in his refusal. Doctor, just what do you think? Well, I think Mrs. Foster that he's acted as his own judge and jury, and no one else was allowed at the trial, and I'm afraid the verdict was guilty. Are you sure of this verdict? That's not very scientific, I know, but I do know that something is wrong. And that something might happen? It's possible. And since it is possible, I must tell you of it, no matter how much it might upset you or how wrong I might be, and I hope I'm wrong. What might happen? Guilt is a terrible lever. Expiation is often the only thing powerful enough to pacify it. It's possible, in expiation, in trying to make atonement for the wrong he feels he's done. But to judge and jury, he might add... Executioner. Oh, no! You mean, do something to himself, take his own life? Oh, no, he couldn't do that. Uh, I'm sorry to tell you this, but you know that I must. He has a dream almost every night. He talks in his sleep. I've watched him. I've listened to him. It seems to follow a pattern. He fights for a time seemingly against doing something. Then the struggle is suddenly over. He gives in. This resistance period is getting shorter. Soon it may be gone altogether. But in this dream, he commits suicide? Believe me, Mrs. Foster, when a mind is obsessed by a compulsion, nothing is out of the question. Now I've asked him about this dream. He seems confused. He either will not or cannot tell me. What can we do to help him? I'll do anything you say to him. Don't let him see that we've been discussing. Yes, sir. Come in. Well, down to get the old man out. Oh, darling, you look wonderful. I'd like to thank you for everything, doctor. I guess I wasn't cut out to be a model patient. Well, if they were all as little trouble as you. We better run along. I know you're pretty busy. Oh, I stopped to say goodbye to Masterson. Thought you'd like to know. Well, fine. That's fine. Well, I hope you're going to enjoy your freedom. I intend to. Thought we might take a little trip. By train. I'm through driving for a while. Would you like that, darling? Yes, that would be wonderful. I was thinking we might take a run up to Providence tomorrow morning. Providence? We don't know anybody in Providence. Well, that's a good reason to be going. We'll meet somebody. Hope to see you again, doctor, unofficially. No one wants to see the doctor when he's well. Goodbye, doctor. But he's not well, Miss Clemens. I'll swear it. He seems fine. Seems yes, but there's something... Too bad he couldn't have taken it all like Mr. Masterson. He lost his wife, and yet he seems completely without bitterness. I don't think I could be that forgiving. Most his guilt won't let him be forgiving either to himself. If only we knew more, Miss Clemens, we could anticipate and block any attempt he might make. Break the pattern of his dream. No, not that. No. No, I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't mean... I didn't... I didn't... I didn't... Please, please, I can't. I won't. I can't. Oh, I'm sorry. Oh, I'm so sorry. Don't make me. Oh, no, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, wake up, darling. Paul, can't you hear me? Darling, you're dreaming. What? Paul, are you all right? Oh, oh, Mary. Darling, what's the matter? What were you dreaming about? I can't remember. There's just... there's shadows. I'm all confused. I... I don't know. It's all right. It's all right. Now, darling, it doesn't matter. Come on now. You go back to sleep. We've got a long train ride tomorrow. Mary, I don't think you should come with me to Providence. Oh, why not? Darling, why not? I don't know, but you'd better let me go alone. No, you're not Paul Foster. You're not leaving me behind. I want to meet somebody in Providence, too. But, Mary... Now, my mind is small, but it is firm. I'm going with you. All right. All right, Mary. Good night, darling. Good night. Good night. Now, what is that? Bill or fan mail? Uh, no, from Jan. He must have come by early this morning and dropped it in the mailbook. Anything to save a stamp? What's he got to say? Oh, no, Jan. It's the usual thing. One of the children is there. This is upsetting, and I repeat, I may be wrong. He has to be safe. Check his luggage in case. Just in case there's a gun or any other weapon. Are you still worrying about Mr. Foster, Doctor? Huh? No. You're getting so you can read my mind, Miss Clemens, and I'm getting so I can't get him out of it. I only knew more. I wonder... I wonder if Masterson might know something that might help. It's worth a try. I didn't want to bother him about Foster. But now, at least he would be doing something. Will you get him, please, Miss Clemens? He'll be glad to help, and the walk from his room will do him good. I wish we had something to read. Oh, sure. That's the way it always is. Rush for the train and forget the essentials. Uh, I think I'll take a walk. Oh, all right, darling. You'll be good, and you'll be careful your first day out of the hospital. It's a promise. Oh, I'm married. Darling! I ran out of cigarettes and thought you might have some in your suitcase. What's wrong with these? They're right here on the windowsill. Oh, my goodness, right under my nose. Here, let me close that. Oh, thank you, dear. Where did you come back? I wondered if you wanted me to bring you something. Oh, thank you. That is nothing now that I have cigarettes. Okay. See you later. Lock the door. Oh, no bother at all. I have to have somebody to talk to. It still feels good. I guess the old ticket gets a little overworked. Miss Clemens said you want to talk to me about Foster? Oh, that's right. I guess maybe then this note Foster left me yesterday might make some sense to you. I'm going to hear someplace cool. He came to say goodbye. Real nice of him. I was sleeping, so he left me a note. Oh, here it is. I don't quite understand what he means. Miss Clemens said you think he might do something to himself on the kind of what he done to me. And then... Is that right, Don? Yes, yes, but this note... Have I been right about the danger and wrong about... Soon you can really forgive me. I will even the score. What does that mean, even the score? Maybe he means like it says in the Bible. A tooth for a tooth. Killing himself won't do that. Won't do no good at all. Won't bring Ellen back. She is the dearest thing I had in the whole world. And who even the score Foster would have to lose the dearest thing he... Is what? Maybe subconsciously he's got some fantastic idea because of the guilt he feels that he must make you and himself equal in the way that he made you unequal. Good Lord. Maybe it's not suicide we're faced with, but murder. Excuse me, you're Mr. Foster? Yes, that's right. I have a telegram from Mrs. Foster. Oh, okay. I'll take it. Fine. Thank you. You're a telegram. Dr. J. Locke, Grant Hospital. Dr. Locke. Why doesn't she crawl? Uh, Mr. Masterson, I want you to help me some more. I've got to get a line on what he's thinking consciously or subconsciously what he may do. Why did he want to go to Providence? Now think back. Try to remember anything you can, anything at all you know about it. Oh, my gosh, Doc, I don't remember much. I tried to put it all out of my mind. I know, and I'm sorry to have to ask you, but Mrs. Foster's life may depend on your remembering. Yeah, sure, Doc, sure. Well, Foster's a salesman. I guess you know that. He's always traveling around. I heard that the night before the accident he stopped over in a town called... I can't remember. The night before the accident, the last night that you and he were even, the last night both your wives were alive. Yeah, I guess it was. He drove right down from there, and then I always thought a man walked on the outside to protect the woman. My doing that didn't keep Ellen from being killed. Please try to remember the name of the town, the last town he stated. I'll try. I'm sorry, Doc. I just don't seem to... Wait a minute. Abbey. Abbey, something there. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember. Abbington. That was it, Abbington. You know where it is? No, up along the coast somewhere, but I ain't sure. I wonder if it could be on the run between here and Providence. Nothing. What have you got? Too much. There. Oh, beautiful. 20, 30, 40, 67, 9. 69. Hey, I'm gonna keep score. Give me your pencil. I got a feeling this is going to be my lucky day. Oh, it's inside pocket on my jacket. There, behind you. I'll make them redo the old saying to lucky at cards and love. Now, can I use this timetable for a scorecard? Sure. Huh? Something wrong? We are going to Providence, aren't we? That's the plan. Why? Oh, nothing. I just wondered why there was this heavy line drawn around Abbington. Yes, yes, operator. Mrs. Paul Foster at the Brewster Hotel, Abbington. And please hurry. It's very important. Well, it's a break that there's only one hotel in the town. I sure do hope you'll get it all right. Good to admit it all sounds pretty wild to me. Dreams and making restitution back there and all these. I know you're a mighty smart fellow, Doc, but... You know what I mean. Yes, I do very well, Mr. Madison. And I agree, but there's always the chance. You see, he suffered a tremendous head injury. No one can ever say for certain just what damage is done. Not to the brain. We can check that quite well. But damage to the mind, that's quite a different matter. Hmm. People can do crazy things, all right. If we can just get her away from him until we're sure. Hey, Dr. Locke. Yes? Oh, well, can't, uh, what can't handle it? You're all right. I'll be right there. Mr. Madison, will you stay at this phone? I'll be right back. If she calls before I do, tell her to leave the hotel at once to get away from him. Sure, Doc. Sure, sure. I'll stay right here. I'll warn her. I wouldn't want her hurt like Ellen was. Well, Mrs. Foster's life may depend on it. Yeah. I know that. You all right, Doc? Oh, yes, yes. Once, once the pain goes. Huh? I'm all right now. Do you often get that terrible pain in your head? You never mention it. Well, it's nothing really. I'm fine now. See, I'm sorry I had to drag you off the train. I just couldn't stand being cooped up any longer in the noise. I know. I know. I was getting on my nerves, too. Anyway, as long as I'm with you, I'll get off any train, any time, any place. Come on. You'd better hunt off a hotel if this Berg has one. Look at that. Why? That sign. Now, there's coincidence for you. Seems we came to Abington after all. Oh, yeah. I had the bags taken up. You go ahead. I'll be up a little later. Why don't you come now, do you? Oh, Mary, don't worry. I'm just going to take a walk. Get the train out of my system. You're sure you're all right? I'm positive. All right. See you soon. I forgot to remember. What do I have to do? I must remember. I must... Oh, to Mrs. Pearl Foster, to happy... Nobody here made any such call. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey, hey. You hear that, Evan? You hear it? Nobody warned you, did they? I don't feel so good. Heart's beating awful fast. Too much excitement. Hello? Is this Dr. Locke's office? Yes. Ready with your call to Mrs. Paul Foster at Abington. Go ahead, please. Is there anybody on the line? The party that made the call. He ain't here. Everybody knew we were here. I... I don't know. I don't know. Nothing to worry. Yes, it was all just a mistake. Just a mistake. A mistake. I'm getting killed. Did she call? Did you talk to her? Mr. Massison? Huh? Mrs. Clemens said there was a call. Did you talk to Mrs. Foster? No. I didn't. She wasn't there. You totally operated the try again. You left word for her to call back. I don't like to remember. All kinds of confusion. I don't feel so good. My chest is all tight. It's all right now. I understand you. Just take it easy. I'll pay the... Will you, on that call to Mrs. Foster at Abington, will you please try again? Very well, sir. I'll ring it again and call you. And please hurry. Oh, if only we're in time. Doc, you believe what it says in the Bible? Vengeance is mine, say it, Lord. Yes, yes, yes, I do. If only we were sure that Foster does. Well, you've been a big help, Mr. Massison. At least I could do. No sense in depriving him of his wife just because he deprived me of mine. Mrs. Massison, it was an accident. Everybody said it was an accident. Oh, don't make me kill Mary, please. Oh, let me stop. Let me stop. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh, don't make me kill Mary. It's a dream. Is it a dream? Do it. And don't dream anymore. Peace. Do it. And then stop. And then, and then peace. I have the strangest call. This is the same person. Hello? This is Dr. Locke. You must come out. Oh, what's the matter with you? Where is Foster? Oh, please. Where is Foster? Oh, my God, please. I'm still connected. Get me the police. I'm addicted. Hurry. Yes, Dr. Locke. Mr. Massison, look at him. Oh, the excitement. He's faded. What's the matter? His heart gave out. He's dead. And just because he wanted to help. You've been listening to Perchance to Dream. All McGrath is Dr. Locke, and written especially for suspense by Bob Corcoran. In a moment of word about next week's story of suspense. Suspense is produced and directed by Bruno Zorato Jr., music supervision by Apple Huber. Featured in tonight's story were Terry Keene, Bernard Grant, Bob Dryton, Guy Rapp and Tony Darnay. Listen again next week when we return with Memory of a Murder, written by John Robert. Another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.