 do you hear them do you hear the bells bells I don't hear any bells Mr. I tell you they're ringing look mr. Heats got you are you in the middle of the desert right now there ain't any bells within a hundred miles a year but there must be there has to be no no no no witching hour when the night is darkest our fears the strongest and our strength that it's lowest ever midnight when the graves gave open and the death strikes how you learn the answer in just a minute in death tolls a requiem murder at midnight tales of mystery and terror by radios masters of the macabre our story by Max Ehrlich is death tolls a requiem quietly closed the door behind me it was a roll ready and waiting for death the curtains were drawn blotting out the bright afternoon sunlight the air was hot and stifling the silence oppressive and unearthly I stared down the face of the old man in the bed the old man I hated his eyes were closed to sunken shadows against the white little skin his wax and hands hung with me over the cupboard three days he'd lingered while I'd waited for him to die now for a moment I thought but now his tail lips moved how are you feeling father I'm not long to go myself not long it's only the bells that keep me alive bells yes over there in the tower I lie here and wait they seem to rally me I live for the father yes father what what time is two o'clock two o'clock Peter must be there now there in the tower pulling on the ropes starting them swinging and with bells out there they are my son listen to them your inheritance listen to them ring oh what music they make what beautiful vibrant music they give me the strength the will to live a little longer hated him sentimental old fool my father he'd spent a half million dollars to bring those bells over from peddwick England the place of his birth and with them he'd brought the bell tower brick by brick and the English bell ringer Peter Griggs a half million dollars my inheritance hung in that bell tower there was no money left nothing my father'd lost everything left me nothing nothing but those accursed bells ding dong ding dong they seem to mark me taunt me jeer at me I hated the very sound of them but the old fool in the bed my son those bells bring back the past to me when I was a boy in Penbridge I had them told us the hour every hour I married your mother to the sound of those blessed bells and buried there to the sound of them stop stop raving about those bells stop it you cheated me out of my inheritance let me pedal us you cheated me do you hear listen to the bells yes they know can't you hear them jeering at me mocking at me you're penniless they're saying you bought those bells my father lay there I turned from his white still face and half walked half stumbled toward the bell tower across the grounds of our estate something stronger than myself drew me to it I entered the tower and stared up into the gloomy belfry yes there they were the bells gleaming dimly in the half light that bronze mouth yawning down at me and then as I stared up at them I heard a step behind me who's there why it is only it is only Peter oh I didn't see you standing there in the shadow so you've come in to look at my little broody you've come to admire my three children yes mr. Brooke in all the world there are no finer bells than my wee babies it was none other than Christopher Hodgson himself who cast them in the 17th century I master himself my father rung him and his father before him and these these are the bells my father paid a half a million dollars for I and he got them cheap sir these are historic bells known to all of England and the folk of old peddwick party with them hard they gave them as a gift you might say your father gave the town an orphan asylum and a hospital and now he has the bells no they'll hang up there forever I ain't as well for their in good hands your father is of old peddwick sir and like me he loves the bells and knows what they say when they talk Peter I my father will never hear the bells again what do you mean by that sir he died 15 minutes ago oh mr. Brooke he did yes oh dust we are and a dust we shall return sort is written and so shall it be for he was a fine man sir thank you Peter both me and my children up there we'll miss him I will miss him so you call the bells by names you talk to them I like a father to his children and they talk to me they talk to you the bells talk to you I was not they have tongs and they have hearts and souls come my baby the good master is higher the master pulled one rope and another and worked another bell by means of his trust through a loop and a third the bells rang and clang trod and echoed beat against my brain and jangling tones and overtones I looked up at them as they swayed and their mouths seemed to accuse me of my father's death I couldn't stand it I couldn't stand any longer I turned and ran from the belter this funeral I dropped in at the office of Frederick Denne in my father's attorney and the executor of what was left of the estate there were certain things I wanted to discuss so you want to tear down the Brooke Memorial Tower and sell the bells yes mr. Denny from what my father told me they have considerable value yes Arthur they do their intrinsic value aside from their worth as historic relics and antiques runs into hundreds of thousands I've already had two office of purchase you have yes one from the university one from a museum good however the bells are not for sale what mr. Denny you know the condition of the estate why I'm penniless dad left me nothing nothing unless I can realize something from the bells I'm sorry Arthur but the terms of your father's will are quite specific then I'll break the will I'm my father's right player and whatever I can sell those bells for belongs to me I'm sorry my boy I drew up this will myself and I can assure you it's air tight there was nothing I could do nothing I was beaten and I knew it and day after day night after night every hour on the hour I heard those blasted bells ding dong ding dong they mocked me taunted me jeered at me laughed at me they seem to talk to me they talk to Peter the bell ringer now they talk to me mocked me every hour all I hated them cursed them blocked my ears against them but they kept on ringing and ringing and ringing until I thought I'd go mad finally I could stand it no longer I had to silence those hateful bells once and for all I had to steal their cursed tongues forever that night late I went to the bell tower fevered and a kind of frenzy determined to blow out their voices somehow I entered the bell tower Peter was there ringing the bells stop ringing those bells stop the bell yes now now do you hear this evil in your face you don't like the bells like your father you hate my little children you mean them I told you to stop those bells I'll make it stop what are you the awful pressure in my head went away it had been easy to strangle Peter his foot had caught in the pedal news of the bell rope he never had a chance now I had to make it look like an accident like suicide I picked the bell ringer up tied one end of the bell ropes around his neck and gave him a long push swan in the bell tower like a grotesque pendulum the rope creaking under his weight Davey up there big George pretty Betty with the sound of the bells shaking his fist laughing at his bronze tortures as he stops them from striking 12 for murder and continuing his story there was an investigation of Peter's death the county medical examiner and I went to the bell tower and looked at the bell rope on which Peter's body had been found the way I see it mr. Brooke it's a clear case of suicide the deceased fastened this rope around his neck climbed up on the belfry ladder and plung himself out into space yes yes mr. Holcomb it looks as though as though he did just that mr. Brooke is one question I want to ask you me what what is it a man usually doesn't commit suicide unless he has a motive did you notice anything peculiar about this bell ringer's behavior before this happened why why no nothing except that he he was deeply depressed when my father died you see my father loved the bells as much as Peter did and that might account for it but I understand this English bell ringer was rather a queer duck anyway what's that what mr. Holcomb the bells ringing ringing how can they take it easy mr. Brooke take it easy the tower door is open and wind just came through made the bells tinkle a little oh oh yes of course it it was the wind I'm sorry that's all right mr. Brooke after what you've been through I don't blame you for being jumpy it was official suicide and for two weeks the bell tower was closed and the bells silent it was then that I had an idea I went straight to the executor of my father's estate mr. Denny and told him what was in my mind Arthur I'm sorry but what you asked is impossible we can't take those bells down but mr. Denny you've read the papers this bell ringer's suicide has made a mockery out of the tower all the cheap publicity in the newspapers the sensationalism the people coming to stare at the bells why why I feel that my father's memory is being desecrated I know the whole thing's been very unfortunate but we cannot let you tear down the tower and sell the bells as you know yes yes I know the will my father's will safely and his last wish must be respected very well at the bell stay but for the love of heaven mr. Denny can they remain silent must they ring any more to remind everyone in town of the tragedy your father specified that they must be rung on the hour every hour just as they did in England and that's the way it'll have to be Arthur we're already negotiating for a new bell ringer mr. Denny listen listen to you hear them bells bells yes can't you hear them can't you hear them you must hear them mr. Denny you must oh yes I do now very faintly your sense of hearing Arthur is remarkably acute those bells are from the next town Silver Valley sometimes you can hear them here when the wind's right oh why don't they stop why don't they stop talking talking talking what do you mean nothing nothing look here Arthur something's wrong you're on edge ill why don't you go away for a good long rest say a month or so it'd do you good go away yes yes why not rest that's what I need rest and quiet away from the bells I was acquainted Lee and I knew in the mountains 100 miles away the food was good and a golf course nearby and well I made reservations for a week I ate slept played golf rested and then one afternoon I was in the lobby of the inn chatting with the private enjoyed you staying here mr. Brooke oh yes Frank fine fine well you've been lucky in the weather and never did see such nice weather what's that what's what do you hear bells bells of course I do and from the church Greenville two miles away but why are they ringing why are they ringing mr. Brooke what's come over you it's Sunday in that Frank Frank I'm checking out checking out now with mr. Brooke you made reservations for man I'm leaving now do you hear right away just as soon as I get my bags back the bells I had to get away from the bells that was it that was all I needed I remember the place when I went when I was a boy an island off the seacoast there was an old fisherman there a friend of mine and I knew he'd put me up the place was miles from anything from the mainland from bells I took a train charted a small boat and spent three quiet days there then on the fourth day as we were surfcasting for striped bass all right mr. Brooke let's see a cast way out into the surf nice long one that was now a striper just hooks onto that baby who's why you're good what is it mr. Brooke I hear bells bells why sure you do the coast guard's testing a new bellboy out on those reefs over there what's wrong mr. Brooke you're as white as a sheet I've got to get away from here those bells everywhere I went they pursued me ringing their accusations in my ears I left the island gun to my car drove I didn't know what I was going I didn't care I just had to get away from those bells and then some days later I was driving through a desert area in the southwest I was deep in the desert railing off mile after mile on the highway when suddenly from far off I heard bells I sat my teeth the steering wheel tight enough was enough I'd fight them now fight them to the bitter end I wouldn't let them master me turn me apart drive me man go I had to beat them and I do it now I drove on and on and on and the bells followed me I must come from a train running parallel to the highway somewhere over the river the desert yes it must be a train it couldn't be anything else mile after mile I drove with mine after mile the bells followed me I began to wonder when would the tracks cross the highway tracks always crossed highway somewhere they just didn't run parallel indefinitely and then and then off I hit I saw some trucks and men it was a construction crew fixing the road I stopped the car and hailed the foreman what is it mr. doesn't doesn't the train cross the highway somewhere up ahead train what train is no railroad in this area the desert but they must be I hear train bells well I don't hear any bells mr. I tell you they're ringing look mr. you must have some stroke or something there ain't no train within a hundred miles ahead but there must be there must be there has to be I had to go back to the estate back to the Brook Memorial Tower and destroy the accursed bells I'd inherited I had to close their bronze mouths pull out their wagging tongue smash their goodering faces they had possession of me they were driving me out of my mind I had to free myself on the ones and for all only then would I be at peace I headed for home and every mile every hour the bells pursued me ringing in my ears day and night pounding and relentless I could be a state I went to the garden's toolhouse picked out a heavy sledgehammer headed toward the bell tower the car was just coming up the driveway it looked like Dennis but I paid no attention I ran into the ladder into the belfry now now is the time there were the bells were leering at me grinning at me I'd smash them now now and forever I live to the sledgehammer and brought it down to the first metal institution of yours it's run very efficiently one of the finest in the state thank you professor by the way it must be close to midnight I didn't expect to stay here this late but it was so interesting and what is the time anyway well I don't have a watch on me professor but just a second listen the time now professor Alvin is exactly midnight how do you know that doctor that patient you just heard professor the one who just cried aloud is a very remarkable case a human timepiece he has no watch of course but every hour on the hour he hears bells he hears bells every hour on the hour precisely professor Alvin and he's never more than a second or two out of the way and so a man lies in a bed in a padded cell and hears the bells ringing ringing every hour on the hour just as he once heard the real bells strike 12 for this again when death tolls are a cream and the clock strike 12 for was played by Michael Fitzmorris with music by Bert Berman murder at midnight was directed by Anton M. Leader