 No, Betty, no! Don't make me... I say yes! It's got to be, you know, and here, she's got to die! Betty! I say yes! Here! I'll hold her arm! All right, Betty, but no... Midnight, the witching hour when the night is darkest, our fears the strongest, and our strength at its lowest end. Midnight, when the graves gape open and death strikes. How? You'll learn the answer in just a minute in... Nightmare. Tales of Mystery and Terror by Radios Masters of the Macabre. Our story by Joseph Rascall is one of the most terrifying and fantastic nightmares we've ever heard. It's titled... Nightmare. Beats, say, hey! Stop it, Helen, stop it! It's me, it's Ernie. Hey, bed, where do you suppose? It's almost 12 o'clock. We should let me get some sleep. Then just a dream. Ernie, it was so real! I dreamed somebody was leaning over me just now with a pillow. Oh, it was horrible. They were trying to smother me to death. And Ernie... Yeah? It was you. What? Oh, that's a beauty. Where's the light? Oh, my goodness. You poor, foolish little... Come here, butch. I'll kiss you back. No, no, don't touch me. Keep away. What is this? That pillow in your hand. Oh, for crying out bells. Can't I even straighten it out? Sorry, dear. Gee, don't mind me, but that horrible nightmare, it seemed so real. Arling wasn't that crazy. You, the sweetest, gentlest husband in the world. Then why? Ernie, now please, don't look so hurt. Now I can't even look hurt. I just murdered my wife and her sleep, didn't I? No, you were just about to. Everything's happening tonight. Hello? What? Who? Wrong number. And what's more, this is a heck of a time to be ringing. Why, what a nerve. On a night that maybe that was the police you phoned in your dream. Now will you go to sleep? Ernie, crap, I'm sure I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I was just telling you my dream. You asked, didn't you? No, you're a character. I guess I'll have to put you in that book I never wrote, too. Well, now what? That was it, too. Huh? That book you never wrote. You nagged about it so much, no wonder. Oh, and that look when you bent over me. Like a man on earth, you suppose, made me have a nightmare. That's easy. You would insist on eating hamburgers after the show tonight. Yes, I did, didn't I, when we got out of the movies. Hamburgers, of course. Ernie, they were part of my dream, too, hamburgers. Ernie, stop punching on that pillow, please. All right, all right, go ahead then. Better tell me your dream, all of it. Neither of us are sleeping till you do. I'll just light this butt. Oh, let's have it. You grew some details. Well, I don't know if I can remember now. It was all so hazy and terrifying. Well, what happened before I smothered you with a pillow? A crazy quilt. Something about your job. And I was a millstone around your neck and hamburgers, and you hated me in July 15. July 15? Yes, I can't imagine what that meant. Look, look, start at the start. Why did I decide to murder you? Because of that other woman, your secret love. Huh? You promised her you'd kill me tonight when I was asleep. My secret love? Yes, she had you in her spell. That's kind of bad casting, isn't it, Butch? I'm the dishes and dustpan type, remember? In the five years we've been married, have I ever looked at another... I know, I know, I told you it was a crazy dream. Maybe you want me to eliminate my one night a week out, too? My Saturday gin rummy with the boys. Oh, no. Who was my secret love? Did she have a face? Well, this is the silliest part of it, Ernie. That's absolutely ridiculous. It was that girl, Betty Daniels. Betty Daniels? Who's she? You remember that tall, dark-haired artist I introduced you to at Cape Cod last summer? Cape Cod? At the exhibition. No, I don't... Oh, wait a minute. Trousers, long cigarette holder, very intense. Yes, very intense. What was she doing in your dream? We settled over, we walked off, and that was that. Casual. Yes, I know, I already remember myself. I can't imagine why I dreamt of her. Why? No, no, don't touch me. Don't dream. Awful. Provincetown and us looking at the art exhibition just the way we did last summer. Only now the picture was about ten feet tall and hanging crooked. She came along. Betty Daniels. Just the way she did then. Hello, Helen. And I introduced you the same as I did then. Only not exactly the same. Like in a dream. You know, silly. Betty Daniels, this is my husband, Ernest. He is very faithful to me. How do you do? How do you do? We've never met. That's a marvelous gloria painting, Helen. Don't you think? Do you prefer hamburgers? Well... My wife prefers hamburgers, Miss Daniels. Oh. Oh, I didn't know. Only after a movie, though. Anyway, I'm sure I can't tell one painting from another. My husband's the art lover in the family, I guess. And I just tag along for the fish. Only I don't like fish. I like hamburgers. I know. You don't wear trousers like I do. You're... ...luffy. Betty and I met on the beach. She's a painter. Our rowboat's got tangled. That's how we met. Yes, it was all very casual. I hardly remember. Well... Ernie and I are going back to New York today. Isn't that a shame? I wish you two wouldn't stare at each other so. Well, we'd better run along, Helen. Lots of packing to do. Ernie has got to get back to his silly old job. He's a reporter. A reporter? Shouldn't he write a book he never wrote? Well, imagine that's what he always says. Well, goodbye. I'm wondering why I'm thinking of you now. Goodbye. Goodbye. It seems sort of dissolve into each other. Like a kind of dream movie. And I'm trembling with fright because I have a feeling I know how the plot's going to end. The next thing I remember, Ernie, I'm in a penthouse apartment on Park Avenue. Everything zigzag, even the butler. And I'm the maid, Helen, there. And what I'm doing is turning pages for Betty Daniels while she plays the piano. For you, Ernie. Isn't that crazy? Neither of you hardly notice me at all. And I keep trying to open my mouth. Like that. But it's stuck. And I'm absolutely frozen at what I overhear. Darling. Yes, butch. Love our loveless. Out of this world. Ah, this is heaven. Ernie, do you ever call your wife butch? Never. What gave you that idea? I hate the very sight of her. She's really a little ignoramus. You're telling me. She prefers hamburgers. Ernie, do you think she suspects yet? Of course not. She thinks I'm at a gin rummy game. Darling, you're blind, but she's not. She knows. She knows? How? How'd she find out? You may go, Helen. Helen, you hear me? Why don't you go? Answer me if you lost your tongue. Oh, well, there's murder in the air. How'd she find out, Betty? Tell me. Darling, you suppose she doesn't know what happened last summer in Provincetown? After we all said goodbye, you came to look for your cigarette lighter. She knew you hadn't lost your lighter, that you'd come back to ask me for my New York telephone number. She knew? Of course, intuition. She knows we've been having a secret affair ever since. I can't go on like this. I'm tired of being just a gin rummy excuse. Ernie, if you love me, you'll do what I promised. But I pity her so. Don't be a fool. Isn't it her fault you never wrote that book you never wrote? It's true. She wouldn't let me give up my job. She's a millstone around the neck. Ernie, get rid of her, Ernie, get rid of her, and I'll bring your genius to the world. I've plenty of money and you can give up reporting and write that book. Fulfill your destiny. Fulfill my destiny? Oh, Betty, you'll help me? Yes. But only if you forget July 15th. You'll forget about July 15th. It won't mean a thing to you from now on. Not a thing, I promise. And you'll do away with it. The way I told you. Yes, like you told me. The pillow. The pillow. Don't let her hear. Just look at her standing there at the piano. You've been spying on us, Helen, haven't you? Haven't you? Answer if you lost your tongue. Don't try to fool us. We know you're the real Helen and not the maid. She's heard everything you've said, Ernie. So we'll have to kill her now. Unless, unless she gives me a divorce. Will you give him a divorce? Answer or we'll finish you right now. Hey, love. Here's the pillow, Ernie. Right now. I'll hold her on. Answer, Helen. Don't make me do it. Answer, Helen. I pity you, but I hate you. You let her cry. Look at me. Strict and dumb. I'm out of smoothing, but she's not saying anything. What are you trying to say? Helen, please don't make me do it. Will you give me a divorce? Tell me. Tell me. Ernie. Ernie, stop. Oh, as we are. Do you want her body found here? Well, hang on. She's got it. She's got it. No, no, not here. I'm not like this. There must be some other way. Later tonight, Ernie. After the movies. Hamburgers. She'll get hungry for hamburgers. She's bound to. The waiter will ask her how she wants them. That'll give you the clue. And then, when she's asleep. And they'll find her in her bed. The perfect crime. And you see, Ernie? Hamburgers. A frightened girl reliving a dream that was more terrible than any reality. A dream that could even become more terrible. As the clock on the mantle takes on. And the hands draw closer to 12 o'clock and... Murder. It's midnight. Now back to murder at midnight and nightmare. Let's hear the rest of this dream of yours, Helen. What happened after that? Well, it was after that that it really got bad. It was so crazy, but so real. I don't know what stopped you, Ernie. Kept you from killing me then, but you didn't. And still, I knew you were going to. You dragged me out into the street and then into a movie and then out again. And I looked at you and you were crying. Because you'd made up your mind to finish me off when we got home. You should have let me write that book, Helen. You should have. And I kept crying. I love you, Ernie. Don't kill me. Please don't kill me tonight. But I've got to. I've got to. I pity you, but I've got to. And you pulled me along through the streets again. I was terrified. And then I saw a policeman and I cried to him, Officer. Yes? What is it, lady? Please save me. My husband here wants to kill me. Oh, wants to kill you, eh? Why, that's a crime. A felony. Oh, why are you joking? Don't joke about it. Do something. Please. I'm frightened to death. Don't pay any attention to her, Officer. She's dreaming. I'm not. Don't believe him. He wants to wait till I go to sleep tonight. And then as soon as I fall asleep... Oh, come now, lady. He wouldn't do it to you in your sleep. Why, you're cute. Not in her sleep now. Would you, mister? Of course not, Officer. Not in her sleep. As a matter of fact, we're stopping off first for a hamburger. She's hungry. No, no, no. I'm not. I mean, I am, but I don't dare. I'm starving, but I don't dare. He's just waiting for me to order one, Officer, to see what I'll say. And then he'll take me home and kill me. Oh, lady, stop. Sure, and you're breaking me hard. Come along, dear. No, no. What can I say? Darling. And then we were in the little lunchroom in our neighborhood, around the corner from our house, sitting on stools. The counterman came over to us. He winked at you, Ernie, and you winked back at him, and he said... Evening, folks. What do you have? You looked at me, but I shook my head. I shook my head and the tears was screaming out my face. I tell you what, Joe. Make it two hamburgers. Right. Rare, medium or well? Medium, Joe. Make mine medium. Right. And the little lady? How do you have yours, Alan? How do you like yours? Make hers medium, too. Two hamburgers. Medium. Two mediums. Coming up. And what do you have on them, folks? Relish or unrelish? Relish. Make mine with relish, Joe. Right. And the little lady? The man's talking to you, Alan. How do you have yours? Answer him, I say. Answer him. This is it. How do you have yours? Joe, I've looked at the next thing I dreamt. We were home again, sitting in the parlor, everything exactly the same, Ernie, just like tonight before we went to bed. But in my dream, I was sitting paralyzed in a cold sweat waiting for the word, the word from you that meant my death. Well, butch, I guess we better hit the hay. What do you say? What do you say, darling? No, uh, wait. Did I tell that counterman how I wanted my hamburger, sir? Of course, dear. What did I say? I can't seem to remember. I forget to come along to bed. No, no, I don't want to go to bed yet. Please don't make me go to bed. I'm scared. Alan. Come to bed, darling. Like a good little girl. We went to bed. Lights out, eh? I tried to think of everything I knew to keep awake. I wondered whether I ought to count to a hundred or whether counting would put me to sleep. I tried not to count, but I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier. Sleep, honey? I heard, but I pretended not to. I fought to keep my eyes open. I knew I would die if I closed them. A sleep, butch? I didn't answer. I couldn't if I wanted to. I was so scared. And then pretty soon I heard you stirring ever so quietly. And in a moment you were leaning over me. Oh, Ernie, I know it was just a dream, but it was so real. And there was hatred in your eyes, and there was a pillow in your hand, and I knew you were going to do it right then. And I... Oh, that's a beaut, that's honey. Oh, my aching bag. Darling, when you have a nightmare, you sure do it up golden, brown and creepy. Wasn't it crazy? Oh, darling, wasn't it mad? Oh, wouldn't I tell it around the office tomorrow? Oh, this is too good, kid. But, Ernie, how does a person have a horrible dream like that? What does it mean? Oh, it's a cinch. I'll interpret it for you. And without a dream book, too. You will? Well, go on then, Ernie. Tell me. Okay, then here it is. First of all, a dream always means the opposite, right? You ever hear that? Yes, I have. That's right. It does. Which means I must love you simply awful. Granted? Granted, silly. But goodness, what about the rest of it? Easiest thing in the world. Darling, where'd we go tonight? To a movie. What kind of a movie? It was a murder story. Gee, that's right. Do you think that was... Not an interrupt, Butch. Who was starring in the movie? Betty Davis. Repeat the first name? Betty. And the villainous in the dream, My Secret Love, the girl we met last summer, was also Betty. Betty Daniels. Oh! Well, that gave you Betty on the brain when you went to sleep tonight and movies and murder and those hamburgers you did stop to eat after the show wrapped up the whole sequence. And no wonder. They're still lying on my stomach, too. What was the pillow doing in it? Sweetness and light. What were you talking about early this evening? That chore you intend to get after some day? Oh, yes. I've got to stuff the pillows. They're caved in the way the feathers have come up. Right. That's your pillow you had on the brain. Which brings me back to the hamburgers. Yes, I was going to ask you. I mean, that nonsense of how did I want my hamburgers? What did all that mean for him to say? Precious, how did you order your hamburgers down tonight, remember? No, I can't recall. Of course you can. Think now. How do you almost always order your hamburgers? Smothered in onions. Oh, Ernie, of course. Smothered in onions. Smother. Pillow. Smother with a pillow. Jack! Oh, my heaven takes alive. Oh, my. Gosh, so that was it. Oh, if that doesn't be... Ernie, that was wonderful. Really. The way you did that, figured that all out. I think you'd make a terrific detective. So I'm a police reporter. Close enough. Darling, it's made me think so. But maybe I have been a little bit selfish. What do you mean? Well, that book you always wonder, right? Maybe I ought to let you give up your job and try. Oh, and have us both starve? Nuts. Anyway, in my sane moments, Helen, I've always known the truth. I'm no writer. If I had it in me, it would have come out of me. Job or no job. I could go back to work again, you know. I could take up nursing again. It was pretty hard, but I... No, no, no, nonsense. I won't have it. I won't say any more about it, and that's fine. You're a swell guy, though, Butch. To offer to. Oh, there was one thing more, Ernie. What do you suppose that was? That was all that about July 15th, about you're forgetting July 15th. What did that mean, you know? Yeah. Don't you? No, I can't. It does seem familiar, but I can't seem to... Where are you going? Get something on my wallet. Wait a minute. What's the date of our anniversary, Helen? July 15th, of course. Tomorrow. What was that? Right. You've had that on the brain, too. Oh! Here. A little present for you, darling. Oh, what an early ticket. Railroad tickets to Montreal. Right again. We're taking an anniversary trip. I wanted to surprise you when you woke up, but... Well, anyway, happy anniversary, baby. Oh, Ernie. Oh, you great big precious darling. How can I ever? Didn't forget. You always did before, but this time you didn't. First that dream and then finding out that it did me just the opposite. No, no, no, Helen, don't. It's so sweet of you. I'm so thrilled. Montreal, where we had our honeymoon and you haven't forgotten. Oh, Ernie, I do hope I've been a good wife to you. And if there's anything I ever... I mean, if you want me to, I can always change. Darling, I wouldn't want you any different for the world. I want you to stay just the same sweet little girl I married. And now, let's get some shut-eye, huh? Lights out? All right. But I'm going to put the tickets right here under the pillow. And they have a happy dream for a change. Ah, good night, Butch. You haven't kissed me. Good night, dear. You were asleep? Shouldn't have phoned before, Betty. She was still awake. Not yet. You got the tickets? Yes. I know. Just gone off. Then what are you waiting for? Nothing. I'll do it now. Right now, as soon as I hang up. Ernie turns and picks the pillow off his bed as the clock finishes striking 12. Murder! Remember to be with us again when death appears out of the darkness, wearing the face of one you know. And the clock strikes 12 for... Murder! By Elspeth Eric. Walter Vaughn was Ernie. With music by Charles Paul, Murder at Midnight was directed by Anton M. Leder.