 Yes, Roma Wines taste better because only Roma selects from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A. Roma Wines, present. Suspense. Tonight Roma Wines bring you Miss Virginia Bruce in Night Comes Riding, a suspense play produced, edited and directed for Roma Wines by William Spear. Suspense. Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills. It's presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines. That's R-O-M-A. Roma Wines. Those better tasting California wines enjoyed by more Americans than any other wine. For friendly entertaining, for delightful dining. Yes, right now a glassful would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Virginia Bruce in a remarkable tale of suspense. It was a Monday, most ordinary Monday in the world, except that I had stolen an extra five minutes' dose after the alarm went off and I was feeling just a teeny bit guilty about it. Ed always leaves for the office at nine sharp, so I can't afford to waste a second in the mornings. By the time I had the furnace going, the table laid in the breakfast nook and the coffee and toast started, it was seven thirty. That left me ten minutes before Ed would be ready for me to run his bath. Ten precious minutes to myself. I suppose every woman has some little pet vanity of her own. With me it's my hair. Ed's always trying to make me have it cut. He says long hair is unhygienic and besides a woman of my age shouldn't be concerned with appearances. I often wonder what he would say if he knew I spent ten whole minutes every morning just brushing and combing my hair. Just brushing and combing, marring myself in the mirror like any schoolgirl. Only this morning I didn't. I was a little upset. Lily! Lily! Yes, dear? Where's my blue shirt suit? I can't find it anywhere. Oh, oh, Ed, I gave it to the cleaner. Oh, no. Well, it did need cleaning so badly you said so yourself. I said nothing of a kind. But you did, Ed, you said... All right, all right, I'll wear the gray. You'd better come out and start your breakfast. It's late. Yes, yes, yes, I'll be right out. Ed? Yes? Um, Roger didn't come home last night. Oh, didn't he? No, no, I'm worried. Well, I don't see why. At the time he doesn't get home until three or four o'clock in the morning. Cream, please. Yes, dear. But he's never stayed out all night before. Look, Mellie, look. For two years I've provided food and shelter for your nephew so he could go to college in this town and I've never complained. And please don't say it's because of his old man's money, either. You had a quarrel with him last night, didn't you? It wasn't a quarrel. I, uh, well, I just told him a few things for his own good, that's all. There was more than that. I heard you. You fought with him. I didn't fight with him. There was a little scuffle, maybe. There was blood on the lapel of your suit, too. All right, all right, maybe there was. But say, what are you driving at? Nothing, Ed. I'm just wondering why Roger didn't come home. Well, don't worry. He'll show up. Well, I gotta get going. But it's only half past eight. I've got a walk today. I had trouble with the car last night, and say that reminds me. Mellie, what are all those glass jars doing up on the shelf in the garage? Oh, my preserving jars. Well, whatever they are, they certainly don't belong in the garage. But, Ed, I never start with my preserves until the 15th, you know. Oh, look, Mellie, look. Rales are sending a mechanic up the first thing this morning to look over the car. I don't want the garage looking like a, like a cannery. Besides, those things are dangerous up there. Suppose they should fall. All right, dear. Put them down in the cellar. Why, up there, where they are, those things could be the death of somebody. By the time I'd washed up the breakfast things and fed Bobby, Bobby's my pet canary, it was 10 o'clock. Suddenly, I remembered those wretched preserving jars. I was just darting on them, and I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, and the shadows behind me. I spun around, my heart pounding away, 10 to the dozen. And then I saw it. It was a hand hanging out of the open window of the car. A very still, white hand. Roger's hand. It was cold when I touched it. Roger was dead. What happened after that? I know I was running away from that awful darkness and out into the sunlight of the yard, and I was screaming, I guess. Then I must have fainted, because the next thing I knew there was a little crowd of people standing around, and someone was holding me in his arms. And that was Duncan. It's all right now. It's all right, Mrs. Anderson. It's all right now. Who are you? What? You don't know me, Mrs. Anderson. My name is Duncan Shaw. You fainted. The next few weeks were like a nightmare for local police and then the state authorities to questioning, looking, snooping. They knew he'd died of carbon monoxide poisoning, but there were some wounds too on his head, and they couldn't explain them. All this and what happened to poor Roger and Ed being so nervous and irritable. Finally there was an inquest. I didn't even go to it. It was all in the papers the next day. You're not eating your breakfast, Ed. Well, I, I don't feel hungry. Oh. All right. Ed. Yes. What does an open verdict mean? Open verdict? Yes. That's what the coroner's jury said about Roger, wasn't it? Yes. Yes. That's right. That's right. Well, what does it mean? Well, it means that they don't know. They just don't know how it happened. You mean whether it was an accident or something else? Yes. Yes. I don't think it was an accident. Do you, Ed? I don't know, Millie. I don't know what it was. Who do you think did it? What do you mean by that? Just what I said. Who do you think did it? I don't know. What do you mean? It probably was an accident. Maybe it was suicide. How do I know? Well, somebody hit him. All right. Maybe somebody did. I don't know and I don't care. You don't what? I said I don't know. I don't know anything about... I didn't say anything more. I just watched him as he stormed down the path to the garage. I suppose it was the way I felt about Ed that was the reason for what happened next. I mean, I'd always felt that way about Ed in some ways, I guess. But now it was different and worse. Anyway, that morning I was taking a basket of old junk out to the tool shed and it was heavy and maybe I wasn't looking where I was going. But as I came around the corner of the house, I ran right into someone. Someone who grabbed me by the arm. I'm sorry. Let go of me. I'm sorry. What do you mean by frightening me this way? I didn't mean to frighten you. Well, what are you doing around here anyway? You don't remember me, do you? No, I certainly do not. I picked you up that day you fainted. I just came around to offer my condolences. Oh, well, thank you. Here, let me help you with it. Oh, no, no. Please don't bother. There's no bother. You've got nothing better to do. See, I'm a member of that growing army known as the unemployed. Oh, I see. Where do you want this stuff put? Please, I wish you wouldn't. Very well. I'll be going then. I hope you'll forgive the intrusion. Your foot? What about it? Well, when I dropped the basket, I hadn't realized it. No, dear lady. I'm afraid this wound goes back a little further than that. You mean, oh, I am sorry. Please forgive me. That's all right. But really, I feel terrible. A veteran and no job. And here I've been. There must be something I can do to make up for it. Oh, don't feel that way. But perhaps, and believe me, this isn't charity. Perhaps you'll let me make you some breakfast. Breakfast? Well, then that's settled. Come along. You must be a stranger in these parts. You might call me that. What in the world have I brought you to a little out-of-the-way place like Richmond? All this mad? Anything more you'd like to know? Well, I know. You mustn't think I... Well, here we are. You just sit down now and make yourself comfortable. I'll have something ready in a jiffy. I've been rude. I'm sorry. You're terribly nice, Mrs. Adams. Oh, not at all. Tea or coffee, Mr.... You know, I've forgotten your name. Shaw. Duncan Shaw. And tea. You know, Mr. Shaw, I mean, I've been thinking and... No, I won't be offended. Well, it's just that my husband's always talking about the state the garden's in. And I never seem to have time to do anything about it myself. And there's a lot of other things like the mailbox and the fence in the back that's falling apart. Well... You're sweet. Of course, I couldn't pay very much, so if it's going to interfere with any other plans... No, I don't think it would interfere with any other plans. I don't think it would interfere at all. That's how it began. Just as casually as that. A few weeks ago, I could never have done such a thing. I'd have worried about what Ed would say and how I was going to tell him. Or I would have felt guilty and ashamed that I was keeping a secret from him. But it didn't make any difference now. I didn't care. Duncan came to work every day after Ed had gone to the office and left before he got home. And it got so I looked forward to his coming with a strange secret happiness. Hey, I hope I'm not disturbing you, Mrs. Anderson. Oh, no, of course not. I was just going home for the day and I... Well, of course. If you'll wait just a minute. I left my purse upstairs. You've already paid me today, Mrs. Anderson. Oh, yes, so I did. You said you were going to hang some curtains this afternoon. I thought I might be able to help. Well, that's very kind of you, I'm sure. Would you join me in a cup of tea first? Well, I wouldn't want to trouble you. Oh, there's no trouble. I've got it all made. Oh, so it is. You take milk or lemon? Oh, please. I'll do it. May I? Of course. It's just that I... You're not used to being waited on. Well, now you come to mention it. I suppose I'm not. Or maybe you've just forgotten what it feels like. Perhaps I have. Sugar? Why? Yes, please. There are a lot of other things you've forgotten, aren't there? Oh, I don't know. Like poetry, for instance. Poetry? You recognize this? Edna St. Vincent Malay. Where in the world? You asked me to clean out the attic. Duncan, give it to me. Well, there's not much left to give. Malay or Nick Kenny. It's all the same to the rats. But there's a name on the fly-leave. Mildred West and part of a sonnet written out in longhand. You remember what it was? Mildred West? Well, I know. I don't think I do. I think you do. I think you know it by heart. Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath nor clean the blood nor set the fractured bone yet many a man is making friends with death even as I speak for lack of love alone. Mildred. Yes? You're lovely. Please. Your hair. It's like the Princess Griselda that I used to read about when I was a little boy. I used to pretend I was her knight in shining armor and one day I would come riding up and rescue her from the dark tower. You see, she was a prisoner too. Oh, no, Duncan. No. All this time you've been like her waiting to be rescued, waiting to escape. Haven't you, Mildred? Haven't you? Oh, yes, Duncan. Yes. Yes, yes. I'm afraid. Of what, darling? Being happy? No. Only of how it will end. Why does it have to end? It will. And then I want to die. But somebody at the door. It must be Ed. I'll go. Wait, you don't have to. I've been going to tell him anyway, and now as there's got a time... Tell him. Mellie, where's the... Oh, Ed. This is Duncan Shaw. Duncan Shaw? Yes, he's been doing some work around the place. Oh, he has, has he? I'll be going, Mrs. Anderson. I'll see you tomorrow, darling. We'll talk about that later. There's nothing to talk about, Ed. Isn't there? I don't want him around here. Why not? I don't like strangers hanging around here. Haven't there been enough of them already? How do you know he isn't... You sound almost as though you had a guilty conscience, Ed. Guilty conscience? What do you mean? Guilty of what? I haven't put a name to it, Ed. But I could. What are you talking about? Murder. For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Virginia Bruce in Night Comes Riding. Roma Wines' presentation tonight in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrill's Suspense. Between the acts of suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines. For entertaining friends for everyday pleasure, more Americans select Roma than any other wine. That's because you enjoy an important difference in Roma, an extra dividend of pleasure in fuller bouquet, richer body, and better taste. To bring you superior wines, better tasting wines, Roma selects from California's choicest grapes. Then, with ancient skill and winemaking resources unmatched in America, Roma master-ventoners guide this grape treasure, unhurriedly, to tempting taste perfection. These choice wines are placed with mellow Roma wines of years before, and from these reserves, the world's greatest reserves of fine wines, Roma later selects for your pleasure. So why not enjoy a Roma-California wine tomorrow, whether your favorite is sherry or port, muscatel or toque? You'll find any wine by Roma is better tasting wine. That's R-O-M-A, Roma wine, your best buy in good taste. And now Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood sound stage Virginia Bruce as Mildred Anderson, Wally Mayer as her husband Ed, and Howard Duff as Duncan Shaw. In Night Comes Riding, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. We never spoke of it after that. We never spoke of much of anything. I knew he'd hated Roger. I knew he'd fought with him and I'd accused him to his face of killing him. He didn't even bother to deny it. What was there to talk about? Besides, I was in love. That was part of it too, I suppose, part of my trying to escape. Falling in love with a boy years younger than myself, a stranger that I'd only known a few short weeks. I knew I was living in a dream world and I'd have to wake up someday, but I didn't care. Will you pass the note, please, Millie? It's by your plate. Oh. Well, I see there's another robbery in town last night. Frank Davis' house. He was wounded, too. They took a shot at him. That's too bad. Well, you might show a little interest. That might have been our house, you know. That might have been me that stopped that bullet. Yes, I suppose it might. Yeah, and you wouldn't care much about that, either, would you? I didn't say that. Look, Millie, look, there's no use holding this thing against me forever. Holding what against you? Listen, I know you didn't tell them how I fought with Roger that night, and I'm grateful. When the police are looking for a suspect, you never can tell what they're liable to pounce on, but now... It's 8.30. You'd better get started. All right, Lee. All right, if that's the way you want it. Oh, well, I see your protégé is out there bright and early this morning. Is he? Yes. What's the catch, Millie? You're not paying him enough to amount to anything. Maybe he just likes working for an important man like you. Oh. Or maybe he's smitten with the lady of the house, huh? That'd be a hot one, wouldn't it? Millie's boy. Millie's boy, friend. Ha, ha, ha, ha. Well, I gotta go. Morning, Mr. Anderson. What? Hello, Grisselda. Hello, Duncan. You're beautiful. Had your breakfast? Your hair is beautiful. I'll fix you something. No, I'll wait. Don't you want breakfast? Milton, I want to talk to you. What? So serious? Yeah, serious. What is it, Duncan? I've lied to you, Milton. Lied to me? Yes. In the first place, I'm... Not a veteran. Oh, well, what difference is... And this gimpy leg, this limp, I didn't get it in the war. I had it long before, and that's why I wasn't in the war. Why, Duncan, why should that make any difference? Listen, do you remember the time I told you the fairy story at first time about Princess Grisselda? Of course. I should have told you another story right then. Does it have a happy ending? No. Then I don't want to hear it. You've got to hear it sooner or later. Duncan, please, if it's... Now, listen. Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He wasn't much different from any other kid born on the wrong side of the tracks then. He just happened to be behind the door when the silver spoons were passed out, but he didn't care. And he did have one break. He had an older brother, Mike. Mike was my whole world until he was killed. Oh, Duncan. We hadn't been doing anything wrong just a gang of kids playing cops and robbers with an old warehouse for props. But to him, we were fair game. Maybe we did wrong to run away, but we were just kids, scared kids, so we ran. That's when he started shooting. The first shot winged me in the leg. The next one caught Mike on the shoulder and knocked him down. Who started shooting, Duncan? Your husband. Mike fell forward on his knees. I can still see him, just a kid on his knees in the dirt. And then the next shot was a bullseye. I hit him right in the middle of the back. I wanted to kill him then, but I knew I didn't have a chance. He was a big slap with a gun on his hand, protecting the community. And I was just a kid, but I... I swore then that someday, someday... You'd kill him. Yes. And that's why you came back? Yes. And that's why you came to me? No, no, Notre. That was something I hadn't planned on. You see, I fell in love with you. Sort of makes a difference. He killed Roger, too. I know it now. That's another reason. I couldn't say anything before, but... Murder. Oh, what's the difference, what you call it? No difference. And after a while, we could go away. We could... No one would ever know we... We could really be together, really be free. Oh, free. But we'd... We'd have to plan it that way. Something simple, accidental. Duncan. I know it's... It's horrible to even talk about it, but... Duncan, it can be simple. You mean you... Listen. Listen, he told me himself this morning. He was reading about the robbery last night. He said it could have been our house. He said it could have been him. Sure. Sure. Shot while protecting his home. An accident, one of those things. Does he still have a gun? No. We'd better do it soon. Yes. Tonight. Tonight. Why not? I'll leave the kitchen door unlocked. All right. What time? He's always asleep by 12. Duncan. Yes? You're not afraid, are you? Because I'm not. Not anymore. Afraid? No. Just glad. Because at last I'm gonna kill him. I was quite calm after that. I got supper as usual as I had for the past 10 years. Ed would be home for supper at 7.30. Ed was always home for supper at 7.30 on Thursday. Only on this Thursday for the first time in 10 years. Ed was late. 30 agonizing minutes late. Well, something sure smells good. You're late. What happened? I stopped in Atlanta's hardware. I bought you a little present. Gun. It's no water pistol. What do you want a gun for? What do you think? What are you afraid of, Ed? Who says I'm afraid? But with those robberies and all these other things... What other things? Let's skip it, shall we? All I say is a man's entitled to a little protection for his home, for his wife. Isn't that right? All right, when do we eat? I'll dish it right up. Ed. Yes? About the gun. What about it? Well, where do you want to keep it? I mean, I'll put it away for you somewhere where you'll always know. Oh, no. No, no, Millie. From now on, this gun is my right arm. Anybody starts prowling around this place is in for the shock of his life. Why, this thing will knock a man down at 50 yards and any closer... Well, what's the matter with you? You look as if you'd seen a ghost. Nothing. Nothing. Well, come on. Come on. Let's eat. I'm starved. He kept it right next to his plate all through dinner. Finally, after about an hour of listening to the radio, he got up to go to bed, and he took that gun with him. I followed, as I always did, to turn his bed down for him. And as I came into the room, I saw him putting it under his pillow. After that, it seemed hours and hours, lying in the dark, watching the luminous hands of the little bedside clock creep on to 11, 11, 15, waiting until I was sure he was asleep. Slowly, ever so slowly, I slipped my hand under his pillow, reaching for the gun. What's the matter? What's the matter? I think I forgot to lock the kitchen door. Go to sleep, Millie. Go to sleep. I locked it myself. I looked at the clock, nearly quarter of 12. There was no time for anything else now. I slipped out of bed and down the back stairs of the kitchen as quickly and as silently as I could. I was just pushing open the screen door when I felt a hand like a vice close on my arm. Are you out of your mind? Duncan, Duncan, you've got to get away from here quickly. Oh, have I? He's got a gun. He got it this afternoon. He's got it with him now. So that's it. I thought you'd never go through with it. Duncan, listen to me, please. He'll kill you. You listen to me. I am doing the killing tonight. I don't think you can save him at the last minute. Nobody can. What do you think I made love to you for all these weeks for? You think it was fun playing Iceman to a frumpy housewife? Oh, Duncan. You might as well know what you might as well know all of it. It was me that killed your nephew, too. I thought he was your husband. Now get out of my way before I kill you, too. Oh, Duncan, listen to me. I don't care. I don't care what's to happen. But if you go up there, he'll kill you. And I don't want you to die. Maybe I still love you. Maybe I'm crazy, but I don't want you to die. Let go of me. Oh, Duncan! The glow stunned me, and I fell, but only for a few seconds. And then I was cramming in my feet again and running blindly across the dark kitchen and up the back stairs. There was still time. I could still stop it. Please, please, let there still be time. It was quiet, deathly quiet. Then the lights blazed on in my eyes and from what seemed a million miles away, I heard someone calling my name. Millie, Millie, I got him. I got him. The burglar, I got him. It's all right, Millie. It's all right. He's dead. He's dead in a mackerel. Yeah, look, look. Well, what do you know, Millie? It's your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, Millie, Duncan Shor. There's always so much to do in the mornings. The furnace and Ed's breakfast and his bath. I can't afford to waste a second. Somehow I just don't have time anymore to brush my hair. It's too bad because I've always had lovely hair. Once someone said I had hair like a princess. Like a princess in a fairy tale. America's favorite wines. Our star of the evening, Virginia Bruce, we'll be back with this in just a moment. This is Truman Bradley inviting our new suspense listeners to discover what our regular listeners already know, that there's an important difference in Roma wines, a difference you enjoy in fuller bouquet, richer body, and better taste. Yes, Roma wines taste better because Roma selects better tasting wines from the world's greatest wine reserves. That's why more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. For attempting taste treat tomorrow, serve Roma California sherry, perfect first call for dinner. Delicious for entertaining anytime. And now, Virginia Bruce. Thank you, Truman. I just want to tell our listeners how much I've enjoyed appearing on suspense and how much I think they'll enjoy next week's suspense shows starring Angela Lansbury. Good night, everyone. Tonight's suspense story was written by Pamela Wilcox. Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Ms. Angela Lansbury as star of Suspense. Produced and directed by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. Wherever distinguished people dine, you'll find Cresta Blanca table wine. Yes, in America's finest hotels, restaurants, and homes, it's C-R-E-S-T-A, B-L-A-N-C-A, Cresta Blanca, Cresta Blanca. From the finest of the vines come Cresta Blanca table wines. Each Cresta Blanca wine is a Vintner's masterpiece, carefully created for the discriminating taste. Distinguish your dining with Cresta Blanca table wines. Shanley's Cresta Blanca wine company Livermore, California. Tune in again next Thursday, same time for Suspense. This is CBS, The Columbia Broadcasting System.