 Suspense. Radio's outstanding theatre of thrills brings you an hour, a full 60 minutes of suspense. Tonight starring Eddie Bracken and featuring William Conrad in Nightmare, based on the short story by William Irish, directed by Anton M. Leeder and produced by Robert Montgomery. Good night. You know, when you stop to think about it, one of the nicest things we say to one another is good night. A lot of thoughts are implied in those two words, and all of them are good. Actually, what we're saying is have a good night. May it bring you rest, may you sleep well, and if your sleep is invaded by dreams, may they be pleasant dreams. All good, well-intended thoughts bound up neatly into two brief words. Good night. And sleep itself is a condition that most of us welcome. Quite apart from the biological need it serves, we're grateful for the momentary escape, for being removed from reality, for the quiet, peaceful hours on the fringe of consciousness, and so most of us, most of the time, anticipate the night and sleep. Families and good friends regularly surrender each other to the gentle care of the night and call it a good thing. But in the blackest recesses of night, there can be terror. And the very night that offers you sleep may also offer the torment of dark dreams. Vivid, terrible, half-real dreams that grip you, plague you with horror through the night, and are reluctant to release you to the morning. Fear, panic, terror of such stuff are nightmares made. Nightmares like the one we bring you tonight. And now with Nightmare, one of the best-known and most imaginative short stories of Cornel Woolrich, writing as William Irish, and with our star, Eddie Bracken, we again hope to keep you in... Suspense! What I could see was this beautiful face. This beautiful girl's face, like a white, luminous mask, swimming detachedly against unfolding darkness. There was no danger yet, but I wanted to get out of wherever this was. There was eight doors in the room with no free wall space between. I tried one, another, a third. They were the wrong ones. I couldn't get out. The white mask began to change its expression. Slowly it became evil, vindictive. It spoke, it snarled. There he is, right behind you, get him! He was just a black huddle, a dark, lumpy mask. It slowly uncoiled until it loomed before me upright. It came toward me, toward me, toward me with catalytic slumice. I wanted to turn and run in the minute, the half-minute, that's all there was left now. But I couldn't move. I couldn't lift a foot. I just waved back and forth as if my shoes were nailed to the floor. He came on, his outline still indistinct, like a lumpy clay image. I could see the arms come up from the sides and couldn't avoid them. They were like lobster claws. I could feel its breath on my face. I could feel the pressure of his hands on the side of my neck, rather than in front as if trying to break it, rather than strangle me. His thorns were digging into the straining cord right under my ears, piercing into the tenders black flesh right beside the jawbone, clawing at the merciless hands and tried one off at last. But it wrenched free of my restraint, trailing a nail scratch across my wrist, and climbed itself back where it had been, his arched body, then pulled at it and grabbed at it with the instinct of clutch of a drowning man. A button came off in my hand and I hung on to it. I don't know why, I just hung on to it. Is he dead? No. No, not yet. Finish it. Hurry. My hands passed him to protect myself, and something was put into one of them. She put it into my hand instead of his. I fixed my hand on a tight, lifted my arm and drove into him from the back, fell heavily and sprawled across me. It took almost a minute for me to push it away. Is it done? Did you kill him? I stood up. She saw me, but she disappeared as though swallowed by a shroud. I hurried, I heard a door closed and turned to see which one she'd used to get out, that I might remember and find my way out, but I was too late. When I turned, she was gone and all the doors looked alike again. I was alone with the dead body, the core of my fear lay sprawled on the floor. I had to hide it, had to shut it away. I tried the doors one by one till one of them opened. It was a closet, a shallow closet, but enough to hold the body. I dragged it across the floor. I shut the door of the closet, pressing it tight in to keep the terror that the body still held away from me. Below the knob I found a key, a strange key shaped like a three-leaf clover. I turned it, heard the lock click into place, then put the key into my pocket. But I couldn't keep my eyes away from the knob. It was turning slowly to the right and then to the left. And as it turned, it made a ringing noise. A ringing noise. A ringing. The phone. Hello. What? Who is this? Oh, little look, I'll phone you later when I'm awake, okay? Oh, sure, bye. Bye. It was a dream. It was all a dream. Dead bodies, beautiful women. How Freudian can you get? Must have been that salami I had last night. Never read salami before going to bed. Eleventh commandment. Fourteen minutes after that means I still have time to... I stood staring stupidly at my wrist. There was a deep scratch on my wrist. For a minute I was startled and I realized what must have happened. I scratched myself and my sleep and the details ended into my dream. Yeah, that's what must have happened. I dropped my watch and it was broken, but it didn't matter. It was a cheap one. I continued dressing. I chose a blue tie, threw up the collar, drew the tie-lane through and folded it again. Part of my mind was getting ready to get frightened, but I held onto it steady like I held the collar. In the mirror I could see them. The bruises on my throat, brownish purple marks, which hadn't been there when I went to bed the night before. It took me a moment to realize, to try to reason it out. I must have done this to myself too, crossing my arms over my chest and attempting to strangle myself and my sleep. It didn't make much sense, but it was the best I could do. I decided not to think anything more about it and continued dressing. When I had my jacket on, I put my hand in my change pocket and took what was in it to check car fare and lunch money. A button mixed in with a change. A button that didn't belong to any suit or coat I owned. I closed my hand over it and I had the feel, the shape. There was no doubt about it in my mind. It was the button from the dream. I rushed to the closet, checked every last thing I had. The button matched nothing. It wasn't from anything of mine. It didn't belong anywhere. I couldn't kid myself anymore. People don't find buttons and dreams. I decided I needed a cup of coffee. I was getting the jitters. I slipped into my top coat and opened the door. Then before I shut it, I checked to make sure I had my key. The key I took out of my pocket wasn't my key. It was shaped like a three leaf clover. My knees were weak. My stomach was quivering. But I couldn't go back into the room. I had to see people, hear cars in the streets. It didn't help. All was real. Nothing was wrong. It was me. Something in me. I ducked into a drugstore. But I couldn't eat. Instead I went to the phone booth and called my sister Lil. Hello? Hello, hello Lil. Vince. Are you awake now? Yes. Is Cliff at home? No. Are you expecting him back? I'm quiet. Then he won't be back until tonight. Did you bring him back? Sorry I bothered you, Lil. I just wanted to talk to Cliff. Dinner? Well, sure. No thanks. I don't think so. Goodbye. I called the store and told them I was sick. Then I walked all day in the sunshine. Wherever the sun was brightest, I sawed and stayed in that place. And when it moved, I moved with it. I couldn't get it bright enough or strong enough. Yet it didn't seem to warm me. At about six o'clock I found myself in front of Cliff's house. The lights were on inside and I could see Cliff. No. It was Lil moving around, setting the table, preparing dinner. That meant Cliff wasn't home yet. I waited outside. Well, what's the matter, kid? Are you afraid to ring the bell? Oh, Cliff, I didn't hear you coming. Well, are we going out or are we going to stay out here? I'm hungry. Cliff, I got to talk to you. Something crazy happened to me. Well, can I wait an hour? I've had a long, hard day at the office. Is that you, Cliff? Yeah, honey. Well, I thought I heard you talking. Is someone with you? No, Vince. Oh, you said you weren't coming, Vince. Well, I... Oh, never mind. The chickens will do for three. Come on in. Well, that's Lil and there's nothing you can do about it. I hadn't eaten all day and I hardly touched the food she served. I couldn't wait to get Cliff alone and tell him what happened. The detective should be able to help me. Just finish up the dishes and then I'll be back. Get your hat, Cliff. What? I've got to talk to you alone. Oh, sure, kid. Um, Lil, Vince and I are going to stretch our legs. Be back in a couple of minutes. No, Cliff, only bear. Okay, okay. There was the button, the same shape and size and everything. It was in my trouser pocket with my change. It's on the dresser back in my own room now. If you want to come over, you can see it for yourself. And last of all, the key turned up on me next to my own keys in the pocket where I always keep it. Here. This is the key, huh? Yes, that's the way it looked. When I saw it when I was asleep, the same shape, the same color, the same design, it even weighed the same. Hey, hey, hey. You're all in pieces, aren't you? I don't take it that way. Kid, don't let it get you. Cliff, you've got to help me. I'm walking on a high wire and there's no net. Where'd you get this key from, Vince? I mean, where did you first get it from before you dreamed about it? But you don't understand. That's what I've been trying to tell you. I didn't have it before I dreamed about it. I never saw it before then. Then I wake up and it turns real. That goes for the button, too? The button, too. Well, you not only have no net, you don't even have a wire. What's really got you going? Did the dream really happen? Don't you understand? There's a door somewhere in this city right at this very minute that this key belongs to. There's a man propped up dead behind it. I don't know where. I don't know where, no who he is. How or why it happened. Only that I... I must have been there. I must have done it. Oh, why? Why would it come to my mind like that in my sleep? Why? That way I could say, how about a little drink, huh? Lil or no Lil. Waiter. Only coffee. Huh? Yes, sir. Waiter, two coffees. Two coffees, yes, sir. When the coffee came, Cliff started questioning me. And the man, the fellow, whoever he was. No, I couldn't seem to see his face through the whole thing. I only saw it at the very end after it was already too late. And then when the door started to open again, after I locked him in and it seemed as though I was gonna find out something horrible about him, I guess. But I woke up before there was time. Uh-huh. And, uh, last of all, the place. You say nothing but doors all around you. Have you been in a place like that lately? Ever seen one in a magazine illustration and a story you've read in a movie? No, no. Well, let's get away from the dream for a minute. Let's leave it alone. Starting to get me too. Now, what did you do last night before this whole thing came up? Nothing. Just what I do every night. I left the store at the usual time, had my meal at the usual place. Oh, you're sure it wasn't something you ate? No food is responsible for that key. You can't create a thing like that from a dream. And I didn't have it when I went to bed last night. Cliff didn't lose his temper right away. He's a good detective and a good guy. Listen, Vince, there's no halfway business about these things. It's either one thing or the other. Either you dream a thing or you don't dream it. It really happens. Now, you're 26 years old. You're not a kid. Now, don't worry. You'd know it and you'd remember it plenty plain afterwards if you ever came to grips with a guy and he had you by the throat like in his dream and you rammed something in his back. I don't take any stock in this stuff about people walking in this sleet and doing things without knowing it. They can walk a little ways from the bed, maybe, but the minute anybody touches him, it does anything to stop them. They wake right up. They can't be manhandled and go right on sleeping through it. I never walked in my sleep. You can ask Lil, if you think... Oh, right. Now, do you have any recollection at all, no matter how faint of being out of your room last night of grappling with a guy or ramming something into him? No. All I have is a perfectly clear recollection of going to bed, dreaming that I did all these things and then waking up again. Okay, then that's all there is to it. Man, it didn't happen. You're either dreaming or you're doing. There's no two ways about it. Don't say anything a little about it. Will you, Cliff? Yeah, I should say not. I wanted to take you for bugs. Hey, you'll get over it, Vince. First, I'll get to the bottom of it and then I'll get over it. Cliff, are you gonna help me? What do you want me to do? Well, you're a detective. You got the key and the buttons over in my room. You must have often had less to work with. Find out where they came from. Find out what they're doing on me. Now, listen, cut that stuff out. You hear? I don't want to hear any more about the key. I got it and I'm keeping it and you're not gonna see it again. And if you hop on this spooky stuff anymore, I'll help you all right, right into the nearest sanitarium. I was on my own, just like before I had been there. Me and my shadows. Next day I phoned the store and told them I still wasn't feeling when and then, well, I stopped in at a newspaper advertising bureau and composed an ad. Classified? Yes, real estate. Is this the entire copy? Uh-huh. Check it with me, see if it's correct, please. Wanted, I am interested in inspecting with a view toward leasing or buying a house with an octagonal, mirror-paneled room or alcove, period. Location, size, and all other details of secondary importance, provided it has this one essential feature, desired for reasons of a sentimental nature, period. Communicate Boxell World Express giving exact details, period. Is that everything you want to say, sir? Yes, I believe so. How long you want it to run? A week. Should hear something in that time, shouldn't I? Should. Lady once advertised for an alligator that answered to the name of Lulu and she got it in four days. I guess alligators answering to the name of Lulu are more plentiful than houses with octagonal, mirrored, paneled rooms. I got some answers, but none of them are right. None of the houses fit the scene of the dream. The next day, Sunday, I was in my room. Hiya, kid. Hello, Cliff. What are you dressed for? Well, matter of fact, Lil and I are gonna take her right out into the country for the day and she packed a lunch for three. Cold beer, ham and turkey sandwiches. Listen, I'm all right. I don't need fresh air joints to get rid of the devils if that's the strategy you're planning. No, kid. You see, I got this new second-hand Chevy in exchange for my old second-hand Chevy and I thought that maybe you'd like it. In the end, I decided to go with them on their picnic. Cliff was right. There was no point sitting around brooding and waiting for something to happen. I might as well forget it for a few hours, if I could. After our picnic lunch, I was almost beginning to relax. Have another sandwich, Cliff? Oh, why? I'll think of a reason later. You have just talked me into it, my dear. Just toss it over, all right? How about you, Vince? If I had another sandwich, Lil, I'd never be able to move another muscle. Where are we, anyhow? I don't know. Ask the pilot. He got us here. So, help me. I was flying blind. Well, here's a weather report. Just came in, friends. Rain and soon. Well, how soon do you think, then? Right now. Come on. Get the stuff into the car. Oh, I'm getting some. Vince, you take the blanket. I got the baskets, huh? No. Hurry up and we'll float back to town. It frightens me. If you can't find your way back to the main road, can't you turn in somewhere and stop a while? Well, I'm sorry, Lil. It's hard to see through the rain. Well, if you spot a house or a barn, please turn in. I'm scared. Of course, honey. Yeah, if only I had some idea where we are. I can't see 10 feet ahead in this stuff. There's a cut-off a little ways ahead. Around the next turn, if you take it, it'll lead us to a house with a big, wide porch. We can get in under there. Well, how did you know that? Were you ever up around here these parts before? No. Well, then how did you... I don't know. Well, let's concentrate on driving instead of conversation. Have you seen any road signs? No, Cliff. Not a thing, yeah. Are you getting us more tangled up than we already were, Vince? No. Don't stop. Keep going. He'll come to it. Two big stone lanterns. Turn the car left between them. I don't know how I knew that myself. Oh, there they are. There they are. Well, turn, Cliff, like he told you. Yeah. Through the trees. There's a house back there. Oh, Vince was right. Oh, well, I'd be glad to get out of this storm. I'll stop as close to the entrance as possible there. All right, honey. Dry here, but I wish we could get in and away from that lightning. I'll try the doorbell, Cliff. Okay. Well, no one seems to answer. There's a key under the window box with the geranium. Well, he's kidding, but look anyway, Cliff. Okay. That's what it is. I'll put on this light so we can see where we're going. Not that switch. That's the one to the porch. The one that controls the hole is on the other side. He's right. Well, what is this, a rib? How do you know so much about this place anyway, Vince? Oh, just a lucky guess on his pun. Good afternoon. Cliff. Anybody home? Don't do that. He's cold, Cliff. He's shaking. Yeah. I was shaking. Do you see him? And I was closed. He's acting so nervous. But I was dripping with perspiration. I didn't know what made me say those things about the road and the key and the light switches, but they came out as though I had been here before. I was scared. Wait for the summer, I guess, but it's funny they'd leave it on lock like that. The electricity's still unconnected. Oh, here being a detective comes in handy, Cliff. We shouldn't get in trouble walking in like this. Well, as long as we're here, I don't think anybody would mind if we made some coffee. I'd love some. How about you, Cliff? Sure. Go ahead. I couldn't look at Cliff, though I felt his eyes burning a hole in the back of my neck. Lil went into the kitchen and I began to wander around nervously. I found a bedroom and then a two-entrance bath. I went out by the second entrance and I was in another bedroom. Through the doorway, across the room, I could see myself. My face was whiter than my shirt and my body was quivering. I shifted, came closer, dying a little, wavering as I advanced. Two of me, three, four, five, six, seven. I was across the threshold now and the door brought around from its position flat against the outside wall, pulled in after me, flashed the eighth image of myself on its mirror-backed surface of myself and Cliff. No! What's the matter, Vince? Cliff, this is the place. This is the place. Yeah. Now wipe off your forehead, your ring and wet. Have you got it? I got it. Try this one first. It's a fake. What are you doing up there? Keep it downstairs a minute. Don't come up, honey. Vince is taking his pants off to dry them. It's a safe cut open. That's what he was crouched before that night when he seemed to be just like a puddle on the floor. He must have had a blow torch down there on the floor in front of him. That's what made the bluish light and made her face stand out in the reflection. Like... like a mask. And that door that you haven't opened yet, it's the one I propped him up in. No, don't. Not right away. Just give me a minute longer. Just give me a chance to get... Cut it out! There's blood on the back wall and the floor. Dry cake blood. Cliff! Vince, let's hear about another dream. In tonight's full hour of suspense, Eddie Bracken appears as Vince in Nightmare by William Irish. Tonight's study in suspense. In just a moment, we will return with Act Two of Suspense. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. And now, back to our Hollywood soundstage and to our producer, Mr. Robert Montgomery for Act Two of Nightmare, soaring Eddie Bracken in a narrative well calculated to keep you in suspense. It had all belonged to Vince until now. A wild dream heightened by young imagination. It was his alone. Awful as it was, it all belonged to him. But he had shared his Nightmare with Cliff, and Cliff is a detective. He'd never once believed Vince. He told him he was cock-eyed that it couldn't be true. But there they are, the two of them, in a deserted house with which Vince seems quite familiar, although he swears he's never been there. And they face each other in a room paneled with eight mirrors, just like the room in Vince's Nightmare. I don't know what Cliff would have done up there in the mirrored alcove, but I blessed my sister when she called us down for coffee. Cliff and I went through the motions of eating with Lil, and then waited tensely until she dozed off in the living room, the excitement of this dorm. Then Cliff pushed me back into the kitchen and shut the door. He gave me a look that belonged in a police station basement and lit a cigarette. He didn't offer me one. Policemen don't with their suspects. He bounced the match down, and he shoved his hands deep in his pockets. Now make it short and make it quick and leave Freud out of it. You think I lied, don't you? You knew which cut-off to take that would get us here from a dream, didn't you? You knew where the key to the front door was cashed from a dream. You knew which was the front porch switch and which was the hall from a dream. Well, you know what I'd do to you if you weren't Lil's brother. I'd push your lying face right through the back of your head. You came to me for help, didn't you? But you didn't have guts enough to come clean. I can respect a guy no matter what he's done if he'll own up to it, make a clean breast of it. I can even understand to make allowances for a guy that'll deny it, flatly lie about it. That's only human nature. But a guy that'll come to somebody, trading on the fact that he's married to a sister and he knows he'll give him an ear, making a fool out of him like you did me. Well, I've got no use for him. He's low and lousy and no good. Look, I found this key in my pocket when I got up this morning. How did it get there? Look, I found this button. Well, some dream, wasn't it, all right? Well, the dream's over and baby's awake now. And we're gonna start in from scratch, right here in this place, you and me, and I'm gonna get the facts out of you, whether they go any further than me or not, that's my business. But at least I'm gonna get them. Don't hit me, Cliff. Please. Now, what were you doing in that place? Huh? What brought you here? I was never here before. I never sought until I came here today with you and Lell. Who was the guy you did it to? What was his name? I don't know. I tell you. I don't know. Are you gonna answer me, Vince? Are you gonna answer me? I can't. You're asking me things. I can't. Answer me when I ask you a question. I can't. I don't know. I don't know. You're not gonna get away with this, kid. I've handled Closemouth guys before, and I... Use this gun much, but I know what to do with it. Who are you? What you two doing in here? We came in out of the rain. Is that suture? Might. Might not. Identify yourselves and hurry up about it. Look inside the wallet. Where are you going? For a drink of water. Left tap. Right one's hot water. Thanks. Cliff, Dodge, Homicide Squad. Glad to know you, Dodge. About a little identifying yourself. Well, I'm a deputy attached to the sheriff's office. Detailed to keep eye on this place. See my badge? I was to home having a little supper, and... Hey, how'd you get in? Thought I had it all locked up safe and sound. The key was better than a flower box on the porch. Twice, huh? Must be a spare then. Funny. We never knew there was a second one ourselves. Why should this house be your particular concern? Was a murder uncovered in it last week. There was? Well, I'd like to hear about it. All about it. We all sat down. I saw the deputy was enjoying this talking shop with a big city detective. Cliff listened while he kept an eye on me. Well, this house belonged to a wealthy couple named Fleming. Husband was away on business in South America when it happened. In fact, we ain't been able to reach him to notify him yet. Wife was a pretty little thing. Was? Yep, real pretty. Flirty, too. Used to fool around with a friend of her husband's named Dan Ayers. Well, that morning, the milkman saw a bundle of rags by the side of the road not far from here. It was little Miss Fleming, all covered with dew and leaves and twigs. Dead? Diane. She must have dragged herself along the ground for hours too weak to yell for help. Milkman took at the hospital. Both legs broken, skull fracture, internal injuries. Oh, no. Hey, kind of gets this young fella, don't it? Stuff's new to him, guess. What was it? Who did it to the woman? Dan Ayers' car. We found it with blood and hairs on the tires and fenders, banding under some trees. At the same time, Wagoner, that's my chief, he found the safe in this house busted and looted. It's in an eight-sided mirrored room. They got on the floor above. I'll take you up and show you afterwards. Cut it off, Vince. Why don't he go outside if this gets him? I want him in here with us. He should get used to this. Well, suit yourself. Well, finding that safe, give us a case. Ayers knew Fleming kept lots of dough in that safe. Knew he went away on business trips. This last time, Ayers come up here, went to work on the safe and got caught by Mrs. Fleming. She takes one look and starts running for town to get help. Why didn't she use the telephone? Cause this warrant no simple robbery. She must have seen by the look on his face that he'd kill her so she'd run for her life. He comes down, gets into his car, catches up with her and runs her down, drives right over. He thinks she's dead and takes off. Or say he drove the car right over us. I don't know how to drive. I don't know how to drive. Cliff knew it too. His expression changed. And he pushed his pack of cigarettes over to me. Uh, have a smoke, kid. It'll do you good. Thanks. Well, we sent out a general alarm for Ayers, but at five that afternoon, Mrs. Fleming regained consciousness for a short time. Wagner, my chief, was there, and he heard her say, is Dan all right he didn't kill Dan, did he? Well, that was enough to send us hotfooting right back to the house and we found Ayers dead body. No. Dan stabbed in the back with some kind of a drill. Dead since the night before. Mrs. Fleming died about eight that evening. There went our case. Did you get anything on the real killer? Well, practically everything, but the guy himself. She was right in the alcove when it happened. Saw the killer by the torchlight and lasted long enough to give us a complete description. All adobe is over at my chief's office. Well, let's go over there. Give her the one silver. Come on, Vince, you two. I'll leave a note for Lil. Look, Cliff, I... I know this is out of your line, but you'd better come anyhow. Hello, Mr. Dodge. You too, Mr. Hardy. I'm interested in hearing the description of the killer. Well, it's pretty complete. I got it for Mrs. Fleming. Here's a transcription. My whole interview with her at the hospital had a stenographer take it down into bedside. He was one of those efficient young sheriffs and they droned on and on. My clothes became drenched with perspiration and my stomach was quivering again. See you there, buddy. Well, here's what you want, Dodge. Killer was about 25 and skinny. Cheekbones stood out, cash-shatters in the torchlight as they wavered on his face. They must be looking at me. I covered my cheeks with my hands and stared down at the floor. My face was burning under my fingers. And light brown hair. She even remembered that it was parted low on the left side. Take a woman to notice a thing like that even at such a moment. And an unusually long forelock that kept falling in front of his face. My hand went up a little higher and brushed mine back. It only fell down again like it always did. His eyes were fixed and glassy as though he was mentally unbalanced. He had on a knitted sweater. It was darned up in the neckline in a different colored yarn. Little made it for me. And I'd burned it with a cigarette. She fixed it up the best way she could and Clef knew about it. Took us hours to get, but that's it. You got pictures of Mrs. Fleming and theirs? Death photographs. Care to see them? Yeah, let's have a look. I got weaker and dizzy as they handed the pictures around. I didn't look at them, but I saw Clef distract the other men's attention long enough to slip them on top of the file case. Next thing I knew we were getting ready to put the lights out and leave. Coming, Vince. Aren't you folks back to the house? It's all my way home. Well, Sheriff, thank you very much for... Oh, say, Vince, run back a minute and see if I left my cigarettes in Mr. Wagner's office, huh? Sure. Sheriff, I want you and the deputy to look me up at least. His voice dwindled behind me. And I was in the darkened office again alone. I knew what I'd been sent back for. He wanted me to see those pictures. I switched on the lights. They run the file case. I took them in my hands and I stared at them. Those are pictures? Uh, he's not well. He's under treatment by a doctor right now. He gets these dizzy spells now, and then that's all it is. There you are, kid. Drink this water. Yes. Shut up and don't say anything. You'll be all right. I'm sorry for all the trouble we've caused. Perfectly all right. Come back any time. That was a place I never wanted to go back to. Clef and I didn't say much as the deputy drove us to the house. We picked up Lil and started back to town. I think you've got a nerve, Clef. We couldn't talk them either. Because Lil was blazing, saw it, Clef, leaving her alone, laced into it. And I think for once he was grateful. Kept him from thinking too steadily about me. She only quit when we were near my place and she saw me holding my head. What's the matter, Vince? Don't you feel well? The outing was a little bit too strenuous for him. I wonder the way you drive. Yeah? Well, I got us here, didn't I? Great. I'll see what I can do about having you decorated for it. I'll go up with Vince a minute. No, it's all right. I'm feeling... I'm coming up with you, Vince. He closed the door to my room behind us and then turned to me. He spoke low and very undramatically. No fireworks. Lil's waiting downstairs. I'm going to take her home first before I do anything. It's bad enough what this is going to do to her when she finds out. I'm going to see she gets at least one good night's sleep before she does. Clef. Clef. Run out. That's the best thing you can do. Meet your finish on the hook somewhere else where your sister and I don't have to see it happen. And if you're still here when I come back, I'm going to arrest you for the murder of Dan Ayers and Dorothy Fleming. I don't have to ask you if you kill those two people. You fainted dead on the floor when you saw their pictures. Now take my advice and don't be here when I get back. I'll turn in my information at my own precinct house and they can pass it on to Wagner. Then I'll hand over my own badge in the morning. Clef, you frightened. Killers always are. Afterwards, don't forget you got a half hour. I didn't move for about half the time he'd given me. Then my hand went to my cheek as it had in the sheriff's office and my face felt bristly. Without thinking, I went into the bathroom and turned on the warm water tap. I took my cream and blade holder from the cabinet. Not a sheer reflex of habit. And I realized I didn't need the cream and the holder and I put them back. I took the racer in my hand. I was seeing black spots in front of my eyes when he tried to get in the door. I tried to keep very quiet so I think I'd land and go away. Go away. I could barely stand up. Open the door, Betzer. I'll shoot the lock away. I held my breath for a second. And then I had no strength left. Vince. You could have saved yourself a trip back. They didn't keep me at the hospital. Just took stitches in my wrist and told me to go home and take it easy for a while. I hadn't been able to do even that right. It was four in the morning when we got back to my room. Clef stood over me while I undressed and I got into bed. Now remember just take it easy. What about the arrest? Post-boned? Canceled. I gave you your chance to run out and you didn't take it. As a matter of fact, I sent a little home alone. I'd been downstairs watching the street door the whole time. When a guy's willing to let the life run out of his veins, there must be something to his story. You don't die to back up lies. I think you've been telling the truth to the best of your knowledge. I'm tired. Licked. I don't even want to talk about it anymore. Well, I think I better stick with you tonight anyway. It's all right. I won't try it again. There's blood on the floor. You sure picked a messy way. I did think of gas that the hotel doesn't have. If more houses had no gas, there'd be fewer. I'm not sure. All the modern conveniences. But electricity is undependable too. Lights go out. Happened to a fella in the next room one night. And he had to use a candle. It was the same night that I had the dream. How did you know he had to use a candle? Were you in there at the time? No, he wrapped and stuck his head in my door for a minute. I wanted to know if the power had failed all over. You know how people are in little hotels like this. Can you do that? Can you tell by the hall? All lights go out at 11.30. I guess it was after that. That's still no reason why you should bust in on you. Look, I'd like to hear the rest of this. The rest? I told you all the rest too. That's what you think. Just watch what I can get out of it. He wouldn't let me go to sleep. I had to tell him about the man next door who moved in a week or so before the night of the dream. That particular night I had been reading in bed. And as I put down the lights and about ready to doze off, he knocked. Come in. He was holding the candle right in front of his face between his eyes. And in the darkness I had to stare at the candlelight and his eyes behind it. He explained about the lights and he... Please excuse me for intruding. You must be tired. Very tired. You look so sleepy. No, I know. You want to sleep. I shouldn't have come. You can sleep now. Sleep well. Your eyes are so heavy. You look so tired. That's all there was to it. He left and I went to sleep. Did you hear him shut the door? Well, I suppose so. I don't mean suppose. I mean, did you actually hear the door shut? Think about it, kid. This is important. I don't remember. Did you ever have any conversation with him other than hello and goodbye? Well, he offered me some cough crap several times and I told him I didn't like him. But once going down in the elevator, he absolutely insisted that I take one. So I did. Testing will power. Never mind. I don't want to frighten you right now. Look, you get some sleep, kid. You're a week after what you tried to do tonight. Where are you going? I thought you were staying here tonight. I'm going back to the Fleming House and do Wagner's headquarters too while I'm at it. You're going all the way back up there at this hour of the morning? And, uh, Vince, don't give up yet. We'll find a way out without shortcuts like you tried tonight. I didn't wake until noon, but I didn't dare leave the room for a cup of coffee. I didn't want to miss Cliff when he got back. About two there was a knock on the door and I almost fell over in my rush to open it. Cliff, I... Excuse me, I... Say, are you Vincent Hardy? Yes. Well, I think I got what you want. What I want? Yeah, my Uncle Henry built it. He was crazy. It's got a room with eight sides. I'm terribly sorry, but I'm not in the market for that house any longer. You ain't? No. Oh, you're like Uncle Henry too, huh? He would have liked you. Well, goodbye. Cliff finally showed up around three. It was terrible. He hadn't slept all night. He showed me a picture he'd brought. You know this guy, Vince? This guy? Well, the glasses are missing and the mustache and the hair isn't rumpled. But Cliff... Yeah? This is the guy from next door. Where'd you get this picture? From Wagner. It's Mrs. Fleming's husband. They're both the same fellow? Right. I'm a great kid. I checked the fingerprints Wagner got there, yours. You and nobody but you went into the Fleming house, killed Ayers and hit his body in the closet. No. But you didn't kill Dorothy Fleming because you can't drive. Somebody else did that in Ayers' car. Somebody who brought you up there and was waiting for you at a safe distance. But why didn't I know I was doing? Well, that'll come later. What we have to do now is prove that the circumstance of the drink could have happened. Get it done on record officially. Well, what are you... I think it's better if you don't know too much. A telegram address to Mrs. Fleming was received from her husband while I was up there. He's arriving back from South America today. Where are we going? Where is the place you would least rather go of all places right now? That... that room. That house. I'm sorry, kid, but that's the place I'd like to go and stay in alone tonight. If you ever want to get out from under the shadows again. I don't know what do you say? Shall we make the try? I'd been sitting on the floor outside the mirrored alcove to rest. When I heard him come in, he didn't come right up. I suppose he stopped to put his things away. Then I heard him tap the keys of the piano downstairs. He heard his footsteps coming and I pushed myself backwards along the floor into the alcove. My heart was pounding so hard I had to keep my mouth open. He was in the bedroom opening suitcases looking for things. I pushed myself into the closet where the body had been. And in a moment he walked into the alcove and put on the lights. I could see him through the keyhole as he walked past the door. Then he stood still turning to go. This was the time. Now. I held the gun tight and pushed the door open soundlessly. He heard me as I stepped into the room and whirled around. I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs at him. But I kept my lips together. Cliff had drilled me carefully on how I should act, what I should say. He'd particularly warned me to make Fleming talk first. How did you get here? You showed me the way, didn't you? You... You remembered coming here? You didn't think I would, did you? You couldn't have. Then how did I come back again? You explain it. How long have you been in here, like... like this? Since after dark, I got in before you came home. What'd you bring with you? Nobody. Just this, a .44 automatic. That's all the company I wanted with you. Exactly how much do you remember? Much more than you think. You remember the drive-up? You couldn't have. I told you to remember it only as a dream. You had the look. What look? I was holding a thumbtack pressed into the palm of each hand the whole way. Then why did you do everything that you were directed to do so passively? I thought there might be something in it for me later, if anyone went to all that trouble. You purposely faked? I can't believe it. You didn't even draw back. Show a sign. I let you out of the car. Put the knife in your hand. Said you on towards the house. Told you how to get in, what to do? You mean you went ahead unconsciously? Sure, I figured you'd pay me off afterwards. Or went wrong in sight. Well, I accidentally dropped the knife you gave me. Ayers jumped me in the alcove. In the darkness, your wife put a drill into my hand instead of his. And I killed him in self-defense. Yes. And she ran out. I had to go after her and stop her myself. I got her with Ayers' car. She never even saw me. That's what I wanted to know. Are you crazy? You must have known. No, I tricked you. You had me hypnotized that night all right. But you've just convicted yourself out of your own mouth to me. I don't want to be paid off. You pick someone with a weak willpower to be but strong scruples. I was an honest man. You made me commit murder. I can't clear myself in the eyes of the law ever. But you're going to pay for doing that to me now, this way. Wait. Don't do that. That won't help you any. You shouldn't have left me alone. That was your mistake. Here you go, Fleming. Wait. Wait one minute more. Just a minute. Now look. Look at me. Look at my eyes. Clifford warned me to be careful, but I wasn't careful enough. I couldn't seem to help myself. I just glanced at him. His eyes met and suddenly mine couldn't get away anymore as though they were hit by glue. A sort of torpor turned me into wax. But I made an effort to do one more thing. It came out as a single sentence. Fleming? I'm going to shoot you. No. You're tired. You don't want to shoot anybody. You're tired. The gun's too heavy for you. Why do you want to hold that heavy thing? That's right. You're tired. All right. This will stand up in any court. There's enough evidence on this wire recorded to send Fleming to the electric chair. Listen. Listen. What's all that mumbling? I can't quite make out what this... We'd better get up there. Come on. Fleming must be trying to do... Holy smokes, he's getting away. Come on! There are pencil and paper in the glove compartment. Take them out. Good. Now write what I tell you. Start. I am wanted for the murder of those two people at the Fleming house. It's bound to get me sooner or later. And I have no chance. I see no other way but this. Now, sign your name. Vincent Hardy. Get out of the car quickly and take the chain attached to that anchor. Over there. On your right. Over there. Go ahead. I'll tie it around your stomach and legs and pick up the anchor. Yes, that's it. Carry it in your hand. Walk to the end of the dock. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I fought against it as hard as I could. And when I got to the end of the dock, I just threw the anchor into the lake and my body went numb. You got Fleming? Fleming's dead, Mr. Dodge. The car hit a tree and folded up like an accordion. What if Vince would be gone too if I dosed another minute in that cellar? I don't feel bad. You did all right by the boy. You went in after him like a veteran lifeguard. Say, if you can take care of him, Mr. Dodge, I want to get these recordings into my safe at the office and send some boys out to pick up Fleming in that car. Yeah, sure. Go ahead, Sheriff. Vince will be all right. What's he telling the truth, Cliff? Yeah. Fleming used to be a vaudeville hypnotist. Tried using his old act to get rid of heirs and his own wife. That you'll be cleared because we have proof that you were not responsible for your acts while under the hypnosis. Thanks, Cliff. That you'll have to appear in court and stand charges. I will. You scared kid. I'll be standing there next to you the whole time. Come on now, let's go. This is Robert Montgomery. Our congratulations and thanks to Eddie Bracken and William Conrad for two fine performances in Nightmare. Next week for Suspense, we treat the subject of weather in a locale that is famous and infamous for its weather, England. And in order to do justice to the ill-famed atmospheric conditions which often shroud this island, we shall present an hour of suspense divided into two separate half-hour dramas, two select studies with two elements in common, dramatic weather and dramatic suspense. Taken one at a time, these plays are singular triumphs. Put them together and, well, I can promise you a deadly combination next week when with Wet Saturday by John Collier and August Heat by W.F. Harvey we again hope to keep you in suspense. Good night. Mr. Montgomery may currently be seen in the Universal International Production Ride the Pink Horse. Mr. Bracken will soon be seen in his forthcoming production, 750 Smith. Nightmare by William Irish was adapted for radio by Alfred Pauka directed by Anton M. Leeder and produced by Robert Montgomery. Lud Gloskin is our musical director and conductor and Lucian Marowak composes the original scores. Next week, here too great shows, Wet Saturday and August Heat on Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills, one hour of... Suspense! C.B.S.