 The Clyde Beatty Show. The world's greatest wild animal trainer Clyde Beatty with another exciting story from his brilliant career. This master of the big cats captures ferocious jungle beasts and trains them to perform under the big top in the circus where there are always thrills, action, and danger. Hundreds of dramatic behind-the-scenes adventures are all part of the Clyde Beatty story. Here is the story of death in State Room B. Well, let's see honey, this is number 12 Pickworth Street. The building just ahead must be the Grazner building. Oh, I hope Mr. Dawson has really located something. Clyde, you realize we've been to every theatrical agency in London and we still haven't found so much as one good act to take back with us. I know. Well, we'll soon find out what Dawson called about it. I can't understand it. Before the war, there were all sorts of good European acts to choose from. It takes time to get back to normal, honey. Oh. Well, here we are. I say Harriet, too, let's take the lift, shall we? After that beastly tram ride through all the petrol fumes, all that sort of things. The elevator operator will hear you. Gang up, please. Step right in. Oh, third floor, please. Right, Your Honor. What time do you have, honey? 4.30 on the nose. Good. We're right on time. Which way would the Dawson theatrical agency be? It's the first door on your right, dear. Oh, thanks. Maybe it'll prove a lucky thing running into Mr. Dawson at the courage yesterday. Well, let's keep our fingers crossed. Well, here you are. Nice to see you again, Betty, Mrs. Betty. How are you, Mr. Dawson? First read, thanks. Please sit down, won't you? Oh, thanks, Dawson. That's a nice office you have here. Well, it serves my needs very well. But I know you want to know what I call about, so I'll come right to the point. We're awfully anxious to hear what you've located, Mr. Dawson. And wait until you've seen this act. It's made to all of your circus. Well, just what kind of an act is it, Dawson? I've decided not to tell you anything about the act itself. I'd just rather you saw it. Well, that's fair enough. Now, look here. We have a rehearsal and audition room just through that door. There are the Dumas in there now getting ready to show you their act. The Dumas? Yes, a man and wife team. Jacques and Roselle Dumas. Oh, French, huh? Yes. They've been in England only three or four months. And actually, I haven't represented them while they've been here. As a matter of fact, I'm not representing them now. But I don't understand it. I just happened to hear they were about to return to France and they discharged the chap who was acting as their agent and manager just a couple of days ago. Dylan was his name, rather an unsavory character. I see. This act isn't the sort of thing that I've been handling, so all I'm doing is to try to bring you two together. Well, it's very nice of you to do this for them, Mr. Dawson. Well, they seem like very nice people and I'm forgiving them a hand. I think with the proper opportunity they'd take a new lease on life. They haven't got on too well of late, I'm told. Little quarrels, misunderstandings. Their act will have to be sensational before we'd hire anyone who might give us more headaches. Circus people have to get along with everybody, you know. Oh, yes, of course. But I don't think you need worry. I think Dylan was responsible for a good deal of their differences and he's out of the way now. Do you think they'd want to come to America with us if we liked their act and offered them a contract? Oh, I'm sure they would. That's the goal of practically every performer in Europe. Well, they should be ready by now. Shall we go in? Let's go. You've got my curiosity around. Good. And I'm anxious to see if you agree with me. In my opinion, the Dumas Act has more thrills and danger packed into a short period than any I've ever seen. More danger, you see? Mrs. Batey, in this act you're about to see. The slightest miscalculation could end in death. Now back to Clyde Batey and death in State Room B. In the rehearsal room next to Dawson's office we met Jacques and Roselle Dumont. They were an attractive pair and I guessed their age to be around 35. My curiosity about their act was heightened still more when the only pieces of equipment in the room turned out to be a small table and some 15 feet away a large wooden wheel or disc attached in an upright position to a metal frame. The lower edge of the disc just cleared the floor. Well, Jacques, the Bateys are very anxious to see your act. And we are anxious to show them, Monsieur. It would take but a moment if you are ready now. Yes, quite ready. Oui, Monsieur. Come, Roselle, do not waste time. They seem very nice, Mr. Dawson. I knew you'd like them. Now what? You know, Jacques is strapping Roselle's arms and legs to the big wheel there. Oh, so I see. I wondered what those straps attached to the disc were for. Now she can't move, you see. And now Jacques turns on the switch there on the framework. The wheel is starting to turn. Hey, what is this? A human pinwheel? Exactly. Well, Jacques has gone back to the little table in front of the wheel. He bows to us, removes the scarf from the table. Knives? Mr. Dawson, surely this isn't a knife-throwing act. I warned you, you'd be surprised. But boy, you can't possibly keep from hitting Roselle while she's turning that way. Can't he? Let's watch. And here goes the first knife. Great scot! The knife stuck in the disc an inch from her throat. Not bad, eh? I tell him to stop. I can't watch. Steady, honey. They know what they're doing. I hope. He'll have Roselle completely outlined with knives in a matter of seconds. I can't believe it. That's the greatest exhibition of timing and precision I've ever seen. I don't like it. He's done. Oh, come now, Mrs. Batey. Jacques doesn't miss. Or rather, he does miss just in a minute. There. That's the last one. Thank heaven. Brother, I can see him now. We'll feature him in the Wild West show. Jacques is stopping the wheel. He let Roselle down now. Well, Batey, what do you think? I think that's the most sensational 30-second exhibition I've ever seen. If they want to come to the States, they're hired. So, it is signed, Monsieur. Good. And now that the business of contract is out of the way, I feel like celebrating. Why don't you and Roselle have dinner with us? You are most kind, Monsieur, but... We will accept with pleasure, Monsieur Batey. But first, we must hurry home and tell Yvonne the good news. Yvonne? My cousin, Madame. She has lived with us since way before the war. Oh, and will she go to America with you, too? Well, I... But of course! We could not leave Yvonne behind. Could we, Roselle? No. No, of course not. Won't you bring her along to dinner? We'd love meeting her. Merci. Suppose we pick you up at your hotel around 7. Then we'll go over to the Savoy. The chow over there is... Climb. Oops. Pardon, Madame. The cuisine over there is magnifique. Monsieur Batey, it was so nice of you to invite me along. Oh, not at all, Yvonne. We're enjoying it as much as you are. And I'm so thrilled about going to America. Oh, tell me, when will we be sailing? Well, I'm going to book passage for all of us on the Atlantic Star. It sails day after tomorrow. And we promise we will not, how you say, miss the boat, Monsieur. Look, look, coming toward the table. What? Who is it, Roselle? It is Monsieur Dylan, the man who was agent and manager until recently. Well, well, the small world is indeed. How are you, Roselle, Jacques? Mind if I join you? Well, you see it. Thank you, thank you very much. It might be far too. You know you are not welcome here. Why do you not leave? Because there's something I want to say first. But this is hardly the time or the place. Hold it, Jacques. Might as well let Mr. Dylan speak his piece now. As later, it won't bother us any. Well, there's a man with some manners. You must be the bloke, what's I, the act, right? That's right. Batey's my name, and this is Mrs. Batey. Well, you seem to know who I am. Oh, pardon me. Every cigarette? No, thank you. Yvonne? You know I don't smoke, Monsieur. Oh, sorry. Roselle, Jacques? We have our own, thank you. I would not smoke the foul-smelling cigarettes. Oh, yes, I keep forgetting. Nobody else appreciates tack is stamped. Ha! Suppose you come to their point, Monsieur. I'll be very glad to, Jacques. The point is this. I'm on to your game, and I don't like it. Yeah. Two days ago you gave me the sec. Now you've signed a contract for a year in America. Three times what you've been making. Now it's a co-incident, isn't it? What do you mean by that, Monsieur? Just this. I heard about what happened this afternoon, and I know we're not being treated. You knew before you sent me what was in store. Well, wait a minute. Are you suggesting these people knew I was going to hire them and fired you to keep from paying you a commission? Of course they did. I never trusted them from the beginning. Look, mister, you got it all wrong. I never saw or heard of these people before today. And that is the truth. Monde Dieu, we would not do such a dishonorable thing. Don't end me that honor, and you won't get away with it. Please, get out at once. Rose, do not let him upset your soul. I think maybe you'd better go with that, Dylan. Oh, certainly, I'm going. But they needn't think for a minute I'm going to forget what they've done. Lord Mortier, I... Oh, they're adorable men. He has no right to speak that way to Jacques and Rose. Well, there's nothing he can do, so let's not worry about him. In three days, we'll be starting to put lots of distance between Mr. Dylan and ourselves. Once aboard the Atlantic Star, you can forget him. It's about time you got back, crybaby. I've had three turns around the deck, two cups of coffee, and a game of shuffle-ball. I'm sorry, but even on a ship, business seems to keep interfering with pleasure. Business? Yeah, the purser collared me down in the lounge and wanted to know if I'd get the Dumonts to do their act in the dining salon after dinner. Oh, I thought the ship carried its own entertainer. Well, it does, but it seems one of the acts didn't show up by sailing time, and somebody from another act is sick, that leaves them pretty shorthanded for a ship's performance. I see. Well, what's funny? I was just thinking. It's a lucky thing we don't have any lines and tigers along. They'd probably want you to set up the steel arena and give up a performance, too. It wouldn't surprise me in the least. But the Dumonts said they'd be happy to fill in if I agreed, and I sort of hate to have them go on when they're upset the way they are, though. Well, what do you mean? Well, they're all in a storm again. They found out this afternoon that Dylan is aboard. Dylan? What of what? Well, don't ask me, honey, but he's on this ship, and they're worried. Jock and Roselle are both on edge. I see now what Dawson meant when he said they weren't hitting it off too well. Well, they'll come down all right. I think a lot of their personal troubles come from having a relative with them constantly. Oh, I don't see what Roselle's cousin has to do with it. Yvonne's young, charming, beautiful. Three good reasons for a wife to worry, dear. Well, whatever their problems, they've still got a good act. I'm anxious to see the passengers' reaction to the wreck. Oh, look at the time. I'd better start getting dressed. That you had. When that dinner bell rings, I'm going to be plenty ready to put on the feet bang. Oh, that was a beautiful dance team. It's so graceful. Yeah, they were fine. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. And now it is our privilege to present the only act of its kind in the world, the ultimate in skill and daring. This act requires for the matter of seconds to perform. But during those few seconds, a life is literally at stake. For this reason, when the drum roll starts, it's like a drum roll. It's like a drum roll. For this reason, when the drum roll starts, we request that the audience be as quiet as possible. I give you now from Paris, Jacques and Roselle Dumont. I didn't know they had to have quiet while their act was on. They don't, honey. That's just for effect. It makes it sound more dangerous. When Jacques's throwing those knives, he couldn't hear a bomb go off beside him. Oh, they're ready now. Roselle has trapped on and the disc is turning. Yeah. There's the first knife. Two. Three. Four. Look at the spectators. Nine. They can't believe it. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Oh, no. Roselle, that knife hit her. Come on. Now back to Clyde Beatty and death in Stateron B. The moment Roselle was struck by the knife from her husband's hand, the dining salon broke into panic. Harriet and I made our way quickly to the small stage, reaching it just as the curtains were drawn. The ship's doctor arrived at the same time, and together we released Roselle from the straps which held her to the wooden disc. And then, while the doctor bent over her unconscious form, Harriet and I tried to comfort Jacques. Roselle, mon chéri, whatever I done. Now take it easy, Jacques. Getting hysterical won't help. Please, Jacques, try not to think about it. I cannot help it. I do not understand how it could have happened. Jacques, you're very darling. What an awful thing. I have just learned what is it. If I'm, how can I? You do not talk now, Jacques darling. It was not your fault. Clyde, the doctor's motioning for you. Oh, well, I'll see what he wants. Oh, my poor little Roselle. Will she ever forgive me? Of course she will. With an act such as yours, it's a wonder it hasn't happened before. The doctor's going to have Roselle move to her stateroom. Do you want to show them the wave on? Oh, but of course. It is day to room B on the deck below. All right. You go with them and we'll take Jacques to our stateroom. Very well. And Jacques, please do not worry. Everything will be all right. I hope so. Of course it will. Come along, Jacques. It's no good staying here on the stage. Here, Jacques. I had the steward bring some brandy. Merci, madame. You are most kind. Just make yourself comfortable. If only I could know how... how Roselle is. Well, the doctor's doing everything he can. We'll know as soon as he can tell us anything. I still cannot understand how this terrible thing could happen. Perhaps you were nervous. The ship might have rolled a bit. No, no. It was neither of those things. I was perfectly sure of myself. But after the knife left my hand, I realized it would hit Roselle. Well, timing on an act like yours is awfully delicate. But we have done the act so many times. My timing has always been perfect. But tonight it was almost as if... But what is the use? Excuses are not any help. What do you mean, Jacques? What were you going to say? Well, it will sound foolish, but it seemed to me as if the wheel slowed down just a little bit just as I threw the ninth knife. Wheel slowed down. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it seemed that way to me. Of course it is impossible. Wait a minute. Is it impossible? Well... After Roselle was hit, did you turn off the switch to stop the wheel when you rushed over to it? I do not remember. I was so confused, Monsieur. Tell me something, Jacques. In your act, isn't it absolutely imperative that you maintain a regular tempo or rhythm when you throw those knives? But of course, Monsieur. And if that wheel did slow down just a bit, the knives would strike two or three inches off their intended mark. Oui, that is true. God, you mean you think someone might have tampered with the motor or something? I don't know, but it's a thought. The knife that struck Roselle was number nine. The one which should strike just under her left arm, Pete. Yeah, only this time it struck her heart, or mighty close to it, anyway. I'll see who it is. You are Mrs. Bady? Why, yes. I'm Forsey, ma'am, ship security. Oh, come in, Mr. Forsey. Thank you. This is Mr. Bady and Mr. Dumont. Mr. Forsey. Sorry to barge in this way. It's all right, Forsey. Did I understand you to say you were the ship's security detail? That's right. I was just making a routine investigation of the accident. Tell me, how is Roselle? She's dead. Oh, no. No. It cannot be true. Easy, Jacques. Oh, I'm so sorry, Jacques. Harriet, you stay here with Jacques. I'll go with Mr. Forsey and give him whatever information he needs. That's a good idea, Bady. Come along. Well, what you've told me may throw a different light on things, Bady. That is, if Dumont's imagination isn't playing tricks on him... Well, I thought it might be worth checking on it, anyway. Apparently, nothing's been moved or touched here on the stage. Is this where Dumont was standing? Yeah, by the table there. I see. Let's have a look at this wheel contraption over here. Let's see now. Oh, what is it? Nothing. The switch to the motor is turned off. Jacques didn't remember whether he turned it off or not. Bady, has it occurred to you that this Jacques might have deliberately thrown that knife so it would hit his wife? Yeah, I'm afraid it has. Would he have any reason to want to kill her? No, I don't think so. They didn't get along too well, I guess, but I don't think their troubles were the kind that would prompt him to murder his wife. It would be simple, though, wouldn't it? Who could prove it wasn't an accident? That's right. There's no way in the world to prove it. Somehow, I think Jacques was telling me the truth about the wheel slowing down and throwing his timing off. I am. Do you see anything unusual about this apparatus here? No, I don't. Yes, it was... Hmm. Oh, what's the matter? This electric cord running from the motor. Oh, what about it? Well, let's find the socket where it's plugged in. All right. The cord runs across the floor and under that piece of scenery at the end of the stage. Here, we can get around this side. All right. There's not much light back here. I've got some matches. Don't bother, baby. I've got a small flashlight. Here we are. Yeah, it's better. Over here, Forsey. Look, this plug's pulled halfway out of the socket. Well, I'll be there. Somebody's disconnected it enough to cut off the current. It looks that way all right. Of course, it could have been done by accident. Someone might have tripped over it. Maybe. Where does that door lead? To the promenade deck. And somebody could have come in here behind this scenery and gotten back out without being seen. Oh, yes. Wouldn't have been any trick at all. This is beginning to get intriguing, Forsey. Yes, isn't it? Hello. What's this? What? On the floor near the light socket here. Oh, I thought it was a scrap of paper, but it's only a cigarette butt. Oh. Hey, wait a second. Let me see that. Here you are. Hold the light closer. Well, you don't see those very often. Turkestan. What? They're a Turkish brand. Very strong smelling. Don't care for them, myself. Turkestan. It's Dylan. He smokes those. What in heaven's name are you talking about? The Dumas former agent, Dylan. Oh. He's aboard this ship, and the Dumas were afraid he might give them some trouble. I see. They fired him, and he thought they were cheating him out of his commissions. Then today they discovered he was aboard ship, too. Well, I think perhaps we'd better find him and have a bit of a talk. If he smokes Turkestans, he's probably the only person on the whole ship who does. Most people don't care for that strong aroma, but, well, you probably know all that. I know practically nothing about cigarettes, Forsey. I don't smoke, but... Hmm? Nothing. I just thought of something I'll tell you later. Well, come along then. Let's find this Dylan person. See, you're blokes, I've done nothing, and you've no right to barge in and put me to the third degree this way. If you've done nothing, you've no worries, Dylan. No, look, please. I understand you were angry with the Dumas, but you even threatened them. Oh, sir, they never threatened to have someone killed. How do you happen to be on this ship, Dylan? My being on the same ship as the Dumas is quite by accident. I decided to go to Canada, something I've been meaning to do for years. But I didn't even know until this afternoon that Dumas were aboard. And where were you during the entertainment this evening? Well, right here to MacGabbin. Can you prove that? No, no, I was alone. Well, see, I suppose someone did pull the plug from the socket, and you say, what make you think it was me? This. What? We found this on the floor backstage, near the light socket. I understand this is the brand you smoke, Dylan. Well, yes, but that proves nothing. Maybe not. And then again, maybe it does. You'll see. In the meantime, I'm holding you on suspicion of murder. Look, if you can't, I didn't do it, I'll tell you. Now calm down and come along with us. Well, well, you're taking me. I want to see you face to face with Jacques Dumont. All right, just sit down, everybody. This won't take long. I guess you all know Mr. Dylan here. They all know me all right. Come on, let's get on with it. Yes, sit down, Yvonne. Thank you, Malcolm and Betty. Now I'll be very brief and to the point. We have reason to believe that tonight's tragedy was not just an accident. Dumont, you were right about the wheel slowing up. We found the electric plug had been disconnected. Well, you didn't stare at Jacques Argin, did you? It could not have been anyone else. You wanted to get even with us. I apologize. All the evidence points toward Dylan all right. But the evidence is strictly circumstantial. Evidence? Pig, you haven't moved at all, then. Here, Yvonne, wait. What evidence did you find, Monsieur? We found the half-smoked butt of a Turkistan cigarette. It was right near the light socket. Ah, so you weren't careful, is there, Monsieur? Don't be ridiculous. If I were playing something odd, I wouldn't be guilty of making... Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I admit, such evidence isn't much to go on. But since it's all we have, I'm forced to hold Dylan here. But Mr. Beatty came up with an idea that might be worth living. Well, uh, I'll need a lady's purse to demonstrate. Honey, where's your... Oh, it's in the other room. I'll get it. Well, never mind. Here's one. Is this yours, Yvonne? Oui, it is mine, Monsieur. You mind if I borrow it a moment? A woman's purse is private, Monsieur. What's this all about, anyway? You'll soon see, Dylan. I think there's a good chance I may have the answer to this whole business. You don't understand? What do you mean, Monsieur? I mean to have a look inside here. Oh, but, Monsieur, you cannot... Hold her, Forsey. I've got her. What are you doing here? Are you all right, Betty? A pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes. Yeah, with one missing. Yvonne, what does this mean? Young lady, you've got some explaining to do. Take her away, Forsey. Oh, haven't you turned in yet, Harriet? You want me to sleep, not knowing what's going on? I'm all confused, Clive. Yvonne confessed. Oh, she confessed. But what? Why did she want her own? Hey, yet. When I've got a hunch, it was so she could fall heir to being Jacques's wife. It's pretty plain she's in love with him, and was jealous of Brasile. And she actually planted that cigarette spot, so if her pulled cord were found, it would point toward Dylan? Sure. She knew that in their act, the ninth knife came close to Brasile's heart and that by slowing down the wheel, she shot through it, it would probably be fatal. Oh, awful, Clive. But I still don't see how you knew it was Yvonne instead of Dylan. Well, I didn't, for sure. But remember when we were having dinner at the Savoy the other night, when Dylan sat down with us, he offered his cigarettes around? Yes, I remember. And Yvonne said she didn't smoke? Yes. Well, tonight, when she rushed backstage after the accident and said she just heard what had happened, I noticed something subconsciously that didn't register until later. Go on. Well, not being a smoker myself, I always noticed the smell of tobacco on others and I could definitely smell tobacco when Yvonne came backstage and stood next to me for a moment. You never miss a thing. It sort of made me wonder if when we found that cigarette butt back to the light socket, so I checked up with the cigar counter in the lounge and the man there told me it only sold two packs like that all day and one of them was sold to a young French lady. Well, well, I do believe I'm married to another Sherlock Holmes. Elementary, my dear Harriet. Elementary. Clyde will return in a moment with a preview of our next story. Once again, here is Clyde Beatty with a word about our next show. When the lights under the big top flicker out when the brilliant costumes are hung away and when the last dab of grease paint is removed, those dazzling people who thrilled you with their feats of daring become ordinary folks. When next we meet, you'll hear the tender and exciting story of a circus family, the Fly Politos. All stories are based upon incidents in the career of the world-famous Clyde Beatty and the Clyde Beatty Circus. The Clyde Beatty show is produced by Shirley Thomas. Death in State Room B was written by Robert T. Smith and Frank Hartowski. All names used with fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a Commodore production.