 Remember a hallmark card when you carry enough to send the very best. The makers of hallmark cards bring you a true story from the life of Alphonse Bertillon, starring Charles Boyer on the Hallmark Hall of Fame. As our distinguished host, Edward Arnold. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Hallmark Hall of Fame. Tonight our true story is transcribed from the life of Alphonse Bottillon, master detective of the French suraté. Whenever violence and murder are done, every time Scotland Yard catches a Crippin or the suraté, a Landryl or the FBI at Dillinger, silent tribute is paid to this man, Alphonse Bertillon. Tonight we bring you one of his most famous cases, and our star, another famous Frenchman, the distinguished actor, Mr. Charles Boyer. Now, here is Frank Goss. Here's a timely reminder. If someone you know having a birthday this coming week, if there is and you'd like to make a happy day even happier, then send a hallmark card. At the fine stores that feature hallmark cards, you'll find the widest selection of new birthday cards, and you'll find one that just seems made to order for the person you have in mind, whether it's a child, a relative, or a close friend. And the card you send carries an added compliment, for it has the hallmark and crown on the back. This is the card that you look for when you carry enough to send the very best. And now with Charles Boyer as Alphonse Bertillon, Mr. Arnold brings you the hallmark hall of fame. The turn of the century in the fall of spring rain, and a place of Paris, the voire, a place of frontings and winding promenades. And now this, the body of a man lying on the thawing earth, a man doubled over, wrapped in tarpaper, bound tightly with rope, a murdered man, and kneeling over him, Jira, help me here, help me inside these ropes. Alphonse Bertillon, detective of the French Suratée. He spent his life putting science to work for the law. He studied and classified human skulls. He measured every bone in the human body and discovered that the measurements of no two human beings are exactly alike. He called his system anthropometry and applied it to the apprehension of criminals. But like all men who possess a great theory, Alphonse Bertillon was continually asked to prove it. The tarpaper, the rope, were removed from him. I'll want them in my laboratory, Jira. Of course. Of course, Mr. Bertillon. I'm yours, Jira. The tarpaper and the rope in the laboratory, as you wish it, sir. I will gather them up and... Hey, wait. Sir? Hold your lantern close. Here. Here. Look at his hands. The hands of a man who has done no manual labor. And here, Jira, you see this? His sleeve, sir? His sleeve. His right shirt sleeve. How it is cleaner, newer than the left. Perhaps as he fell, his left arm. Not as he fell. There are men of whom this thing of the shirt sleeve is characteristic, Jira. Oh? Yes, men who deal with writing, with pens, with ink. And wear on their right sleeve a special cuff to protect it from stains, from smudges. Yes, I have seen... Now, this clerk may be an accountant. Such a man whose hands are soft and marked with soil as these ones are. And Jira... Yes, sir? Where murder is, where death is, there is always something else, identity. Not merely of the victim, but of his murderer. Cover him, my Jira. Cover him from the rain. What do you... To give you the report, sir, of the tests I have made in the laboratory. The men of science, eh, Berthieu, the student, the search of the player with test tubes and microscopes. That is the menu, eh, Berthieu? The results of the test tube and the microscope, sir, have given us the pattern of the murder of the man we found in the boar. Excellent. And they're eloquently spoken. Well, go on, go on. He was struck and murdered in a wine cellar. He was then dragged into a second room, filled with sawdust, sand and curl. And then into a third room. A room always in blackness, without windows. I marveled at him, and I bow. And it is needless for me to ask if you know where all this to place the address perhaps... Well, I believe it was in a house somewhere along the Seine, which would explain the presence of sand on the tarpaper. And the room always in blackness and without windows. Surely, Clairvoyance, Berthieu? Only shirt color under the microscope and on the coat and vest, evidence of alcoholic fermentation, which proved the wine cellar. Exactly, sir, which proved the wine cellar. I marvel. Indeed, I marvel at you, Berthieu. And at another thing also. What thing? How rich we are in knowledge and information and deduction. And how ignorant we are of a simple thing. The victim's identity. Not ignorant at all. His identity is known. Ah, your system. We found a wallet. In it, his name, his address. Excellent system. The disease is Charles Stilley, 33, with Sam Yichel. And we know it is he, since a photograph which was in the wallet, is a likeness of the victim. Also, yes, that he was an accountant and matched against our records a thief who left our prisons two years ago with a wife named Lucille. But the name of the murderer, Berthieu. Nowhere? Well, now we try your system. Find him. About Charles. I'm sorry. Do not be. My husband is an unlucky man. Whatever he chooses to do, inevitably turns out badly. When he chooses to break the law, he is always caught. He is dead. Very well. Thank you. Wait. Yes? He was murdered. He is dead. He was murdered. How many times can such a man treat the law and not expect? There is a necessity to find his murderer, Mrs. Stilley. You will not find him here. My husband came at a certain hour when he chose and was fed and went again. He was to me a border who did not always pay his lodging. I'm sorry. Uh, was he employed? The bookkeeper at Dumier & Company. The actuaries on Dujalbert Street. And when you see the Monsieur le Detective, tell him to send me his last week's pay. Which Monsieur Tellier's desk? Feel. Go ahead and feel. Nothing else in the drawer is there. Inflexible room. No small objects as to hint of a motive for murder, no packets of potions or letters of love yet. And I must tell you this. Down the street now there is a shop. And in this shop of Monsieur Cappasseau there are fabulous dresses which must cost each three times the salary of Charles Tellier. Yet, very often he would... Yes, go on. You said your name was Bertillon. Alphonse Bertillon. That is correct. The one who measures the length of skulls and jaw bones and thereby solves the most intricate crime. Surely, Monsieur. A man who can call upon such sorcery does not need the help of a simple actuary. Good day. Lovely, Monsieur. And three times the salary of Charles Tellier, Monsieur Cappasseau. Then this Charles Tellier must be a rather poor man, Monsieur Bertillon. Then why should he appear frequently in front of your dress shop? Why should he do a thing like this? It's to think about, isn't it? It really is to think about. Really? Married. What? I say, are you married? Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. Is this your wife? Certainly. Who else would write such an inscription upon a picture? My fondest love? Marcel? A sister? True. True indeed. However, this is my wife. I compliment you. I often do, too. This dress business you have here, very successful, isn't it? I am fortunate. And your home in the back must be luxurious. May I compliment you again? Of course. Your clothes. Exquisite. Thank you. Greatest. Oh, less than elegant, I am afraid, for I travel in them to Brussels this evening. Else, I would be wearing a touch of brocade and a velvet collar. Nice. Oh, yes. My wife should soon be here. It is a scent she prefers. Yes. Now, another thing. Of course. Is there a cellar here? Cellar? Cellar? Oh, no. Wine cellar? No. Monsieur Cabasseau? Yes. I don't have a warrant. Therefore, you cannot, sir. I wouldn't think of it. Of course. No. Monsieur Cabasseau? Yes. Monsieur Berthillon? An idle thought. Good day. And therefore, he is the murderer. What? There is no doubting it. Yes, sir. Cabasseau? Certainly, he possibly his wife. The murderer? Or murderer. Because? Because he's an older man married to a younger woman. What, without a cellar, dear Berthillon? Old man, yes. And married to a younger woman, yes. But without a cellar, you said it yourself? What a cellar? What? I'm going back there, sir. I'm going to break into the shop. And there will be a cellar. The very one in which was murdered till you. Unless you will issue a warrant, so I may search? Impossible. A very respectable man. There are no grounds at which to issue a warrant. Nearly that he is married to a younger woman. A murdered victim loitered about his dress shop. That's your own risk, then. No warrant. Yes, sir. And if you are sharp for breaking into the shop and the home, we will disavow any knowledge of what... Yes, sir. Men have been shot and killed, you know, for exactly that. Seven last year. I looked it up. Good luck, Berthillon. Yes, sir. Just a moment. We'll bring you the second act of the Hallmark Hall of Fame. A few ladies will excuse me a moment. I'd like a word with your husbands in private. A gentleman tomorrow is the big day. And if you'd like to make a special hit with your wives tomorrow, I suggest you drop in at a fine store that features Hallmark cards. There you'll find a wonderful selection of Valentine's created just for wives, and you're sure to find one that just seems made to order for your wife. A Valentine with that added touch of beauty or humor that you expect from a Hallmark card. One amusing Hallmark Valentine, for instance, tells a husband's story, page by page, with little cut-out scenes that pop into place as you turn a page. And the story goes, sometimes I fuss, sometimes I preach, but still it's true my favorite speech is, I love you. Other Hallmark Valentine's for wives have a lovely, lacy old-fashioned look about them. With messages a wife will keep and reread many times after Valentine's Day has passed. There's one that says, I know a smile I love to see, a voice I love to hear. I know a hand I love to hold, a presence I love near. I know a heart, a loving heart that's thoughtful, fine, and true. I know them all, and love them all for they belong to you. And remember, gentlemen, whichever Hallmark Valentine you choose, your wife will appreciate the added compliment on the back, the Hallmark and crown, the symbol you look for when you carry enough to send the very best. P.S. a few ladies have been listening. There's an equally large and wonderful selection of Hallmark Valentine's designed just for husbands. And now with Mr. Charles Boyer as our star, Edward Arnold brings you the second act of our true story from the life of Alphonse Bertillon. John's methods were not only of weights and dimensions by tape and scales, but depended too upon measures of the mind. He would say, Ask yourselves two questions about every premeditated murder. Who profits from this crime? Where is the woman? And prove that 90% of all major crimes have a woman mixed in them. And said, I distrust a man who always smiles. And would, if the occasion demanded it, disguise himself in the rough clothes of a French workman in order to break into a suspect's home. Put up your hands. I have a pistol here and I shall not hesitate to use it, so put up your hands. Yes, madam. Come closer. Yes, madam. Gently. Oh, I'm skilled with this weapon. Yes, madam. What violence did you come here to commit? Theft. I am a thief. How did you get in here? The cellar. The cellar? The wine cellar. The trapdoor to the cellar is still nailed down. Therefore... Therefore I did not break him through the cellar. Therefore you are a liar. Yes, madam. A liar and a thief. Yes, madam. With no shame. I should be in jail. Or worse. Worse? Fortunate it is that my husband has left for Brussels. He has a great temper, your husband. And he perhaps would kill me for this insult of breaking into your house. Yes, he has a temper to kill. Who are you? A liar and a thief. Who should be given to the police? As you shall. As you shall. They clever indeed. First you enter a man's house without a warrant to do so. Then you come face to face with a pistol belonging to the man's wife. Now I have to release you from my own jail where I find you locked up as a common thief. Bertil, you try my patience. You try my patience. Now please consider these facts. First, the man tells me he has no wine cellar, but he does. Bertil. While other men of the surity go about their work in a business like manner and are respected by the citizens of Paris, you spend your time with theories and are ridiculed by police and citizens alike. This is not entirely true, Inspector. Many have begun to measure criminals in the manner I have prescribed. Indeed. As we do here now in Paris. But of what value is it? How many times have we actually gone to the files and searched for the measurement of a man's jawbone? How many times? Well, well, speak up. It's all right. In front of the inspector, here I am. He's very understanding. You asked to know when Mr. Cabasseau returned from Brussels. He's in Paris. He returned at dusk. Thank you, Girard. Very well, Inspector. Would you be so kind as to hand me my hat? Well, now where are you going? To the home of Mr. Cabasseau. Oh, not to break in, but to prove a theory. Wife and myself at dinner, Monsieur Bertillon. I am but pleased to offer you a place at our table. I am honored, Monsieur. Thank you. But, Jean, this is the criminal of whom I have told you, the thief. Was it not an adventure we had, madame? How well you bled your part, exquisitely. But, Jean, I will not stop with the criminal. I assure you, my dear, he is no criminal, and this matter of his illegal entry into my home while I was in Brussels. We shall discuss properly over Sherry and Partridge. Marcel? Yes, dear. It's a place for Monsieur Bertillon, the server of porcelain. Sit down, Monsieur. Thank you. May I, may you what? Make an observation upon the elegance of your dinner table, the crystal, the porcelain, the silver-shaping dishes. Make it then, stunning. Monsieur, yes, what are you doing? Your place, Monsieur. And your silver. He's sketching, Jean. Sketching on my napkin. Sketching what? You, to another pose, Monsieur. First, a thief, now an artist. Not really. An artist to have an exceptional eye for proportion. That's all. Come look at it, Jean. Not very flattering. It is not my intention to flatter. But your intention is to prove you are a criminal. Jean? Delier was a young man, as you are young, madame. And you, Monsieur Cabasseau, of me what? You are a possessor of a cellar. Why are you ashamed of your cellar, Monsieur? Why did you lie about it? If you are such a very respectable man... Get out. Check my napkin. If someone should say to you, is there a cellar in your home, would you say no? Well, no. Not unless you had committed a murder in your cellar. See him better. Therefore, I ask that you issue a writ of arrest. Listen to me. I am sure Cabasseau is the murderer. Listen to me. Very well. Cabasseau is an important man. And if I issue a writ of arrest, then he is taken into custody, and you cannot prove your accusations. Do you realize? I can prove them. Oh! In this envelope. I have indicated here, in centimeters, length of jaw to full length of face, eye socket to breath of forehead, et cetera, et cetera. Yes, yes. Now, I present you with this other data. At the end of the hall... Yes. ...and then of influence. Yes. Because you are Jean Elegance to the wealthy. You must have in memory for the time some years ago you were measured at a small police station for the proportion of the length of jaw to the length of face of eye socket to the breath of forehead, et cetera, et cetera. But it is impossible. Why, I... Yes, yes. You have changed the color of your hair. You have now your stash. You have gained weight. But it is less than nothing. There is no longer such a thing as a disguise, but to disguise the length of the jaw, the curve of the chin, or bone structure, impossible. Listen, very Jean Plagnier, but now I am respectable and honorable man. Only why you had to commit murder to maintain this attitude. Then you know about Charles Tellier. Because we keep a file. He was arrested with you, also a thief. Then he came back to haunt you with your old sins. Blackmail, Monsieur. Yes. He demanded money. He came to my dress shop. But how did you know? How could you recognize him? An apology. First, I thought this a crime of passion. Jealousy. That your wife, a lovely woman. She had nothing to do with it. Lovely woman. Monsieur Cabessu, I arrest you in the name of the Republic of France for the murder of Charles Tellier. And Hussain, one who tries to hide his past is a liar and a fool. For somehow it races to catch up with him, an indevious way overtakes him, destroys him always. Who set a path for our modern day science of criminology. Who left behind countless weapons of detection. Who was one of the greatest forces for the law the world has ever known. Arnold and Charles Boyer will be back in just a moment. At this time of year, most of us know people who are home with winter colds or viruses, or perhaps there's someone convalescing in a hospital whom you'd like to cheer. Well, two wonderful doctors' aids are thoughtfulness and a smile. And a hallmark card fits both these prescriptions. The patient or the friend home with the sniffles will really appreciate your thoughtfulness in sending a hallmark Get Well card. And at the fine stores that feature hallmark cards, you'll find bright, amusing cards that'll bring a smile and an array of cheer into any sick room. You'll find too that hallmark has some original new ideas for Get Well cards. Some of these cards will be appreciated for their beauty, some for their sparkling humor, while still others bring an inspiring prayer. Mail becomes even more important to someone ill in bed, and a hallmark card from you can be a real morale booster bringing a lift to the whole day. You'll find special hallmark cards that say just what you want to say to everyone from the child home with the cold to a person who's just had an operation. The added personal touch makes a hallmark card doubly appreciated and shows you went to a fine store and chose that particular card just for the receiver. And remember, whichever hallmark Get Well card you choose, there'll be an added note of cheer on the back. The hallmark and crown, the symbol you look for when you carry enough to send the very best. Now, here's Edward Arnold with Charles Boyer. Bravo, Charles Boyer, for your vivid and memorable portrayal of Monsieur Bertillon. I know all the friends of the hallmark hall of fame thoroughly enjoyed your performance, and it was a very special event to have you visit us. Thank you, Eddie. I enjoyed playing Bertillon. You must have been a fascinating fellow. I feel I had the opportunity of learning more about him from your story. I think, too, that the fact that your story is on the hallmark hall of fame are always about real people, make your plays of unusual interest and worth. You're most gracious, Charles, and we're looking forward to your giving us the pleasure of another appearance very soon. We hope you'll listen in next week for we have a most stimulating play again about a real person. Frank, I suppose you tell our audience about it. Next week, our true story is from the life of one of America's greatest naval heroes, John Paul Jones. Few people realize that he was once accused of murder, faced a court-martial, and a mutiny, or that his real name was actually John Paul. That's the true incident we'll tell about next week. That sounds like an unusual program. Good night, Eddie. Good night, everyone. Goodbye, Charles Boyer, and until next week, this is Edward Arnold saying, good night. Carefully selected to give expert and friendly service. Remember a hallmark card when you'll carry enough to send the very best. The hallmark hall of fame is produced and directed by William Frug. Tonight's transcribed script by Morton Pine and David Friedkin. Featured in tonight's cast were Victor Perrin, Byron Cain, Herb Butterfield, Betty Harford, Edgar Barrie, and Jane Webb. Be sure and enjoy the hallmark hall of fame on television every Sunday over another network. Consult your newspaper for time and station. This is Frank Goss saying good night to you until next week at the same time when you hear a true story from the life of John Paul Jones on the hallmark hall of fame. This is the CBS Radio Network.