 This is Hollywood and CBS presenting forecast number four Herbert Marshall directed by Alfred Hitchcock in the first program of a proposed new series entitled suspense Tonight's forecast program ladies and gentlemen represents the ideal form of collaboration Mr. Alfred Hitchcock brilliant English director of such outstanding motion pictures as the 39 steps Rebecca and foreign correspondent was eager to create a very special type of radio drama the suspense story as Narrator and star for his production. He thought at once of the distinguished actor with whom he had been associated in countless British film successes Herbert Marshall Mr. Marshall suggested that they dramatize a certain favorite story of his and that story happened to be the very one mr. Hitchcock had had in mind Mrs. Bella clowns classic in chills the larger The larger is a work of fiction which springs from recorded fact a Story which begins in the year 1888 in London a London terrorized by the fifth in a succession of recent murders It was believed that these deeds were the work of one person a tall gaunt figure in a black in Vanessa Cape carrying a small narrow bag That meager description provided by a highly unnerved witness was the sum total of all that was known of the murderer It was enough however to keep alive and alert the interest of all London Of all those in fine quarters and all those in small grimy houses as for example Ellen Bunting Ellen was no different from all the other middle-aged housewives dwelling in the great city's squalid white chapel district She knew all the known facts of the case as Herbert Marshall will tell you Ellen knew it was quite proper to refer to this wielder of the knife as The Avenger of course Ellen Bunting was far more concerned with her personal problems than with thoughts of the Avenger Yet the case of that strange elusive killer quite often forced all other matters from her mind There was that mad meaningless scheme. He seemed to follow All his victims for example have been women all have been young attractive and oddly enough blonde But Ellen could no more understand the motive for his brutal slashings than could the police This night she and her husband Robert Bunking Sat before their fireplace reading the newspaper account of the latest murder The Avenger had struck again As that an expersed it he might be anybody you might be the fellow you pass on the street It's a terrible thought If only the police had something to go on It looks like that avengers just too quick for him Look, it says here that this girl he got last night was like all the others pretty blonde in there Let's see described by her friends as a very light-hearted girl. What a pity Do you ever stop to think who fits that to a tee in fact fits all those girls quite by my own daisy? Oh, that's a horrible thought. Well, maybe it's a good thing. She's with her aunt then instead of here London ain't a safe place for any girl right now. Just the same. I can't stop thinking I'll find it'll be to ever beckling You know the daisy seems just as much my own daughter. She is yours But I'm telling you there's no sense even thinking about having her back right now. We just can't afford it Oh, I know that a little honey. Well, well, maybe we could manage it some way How haven't I script myself off crazy trying to keep us going, but you don't care about that Do you know your daisy is more important to you than I am really really let them sound I can't help if it Don't what are we going to do? Tell me that we'll get along there something will turn up We haven't had a larger for months. Nobody even comes to look at the room anymore Things will work out. Oh, they ain't never going to work out. So we won't even have a roof over our heads and Oh, I'm sorry Robbie. I I didn't mean to take on It's all right. I didn't think it. It's just that I've been so worried. Well, don't you go wedding another second Oh girl my first thing you know, you won't be pretty anymore. You'll have your face all wrinkled. I'll see you Come on. Let's see a smile. Come on. Just have one Who do you suppose that could be visitors I wanting Do you think it's somebody looking for rooms? Well, it might be want me to go to the door. No, I'll go You just stay here. Yes. All right. Now be sure you get a good look at a reason for you. Let them in here I'm coming. Oh, I do hope it's Hmm. Yes, sir Is it not true that you let lodgings? Yes, sir Won't you come in sir? Thank you. Could I could I take your cape sir? There's no need Now I am I'm looking for a quiet room. It must be quiet. Oh, we have that there above all our house is quiet Your bags are me. I take it. No, I'll hold it It'll be so good as to show me the room, please. Oh, yes. Yes, sir. It's right up these stairs This way. Thank you You see sir, there's just my husband and me here and we're ever so quiet and I'm sure you'll find this room to your liking sir Here we are Now I'll just like the guy There Very good. It is pleasant, isn't it sir? And there's not many rooms with such pretty pictures are there now. We've had them in the family for years Pictures interest me very little You see what really impresses me about the room is the very simplicity of it the um, the bareness Yes, sir. It's not at all crowded. It will be quite suitable. Mrs. Buntings. Mrs. Bunting. You see, I do a great deal of studying in my book here The Holy Bible. Yes, sir. Please let me help with your luggage. No, don't touch it Oh, but I only wish to you only wish to help of course. You must forgive me Mrs. Bunting. It's just that I I'm so very weary. Of course, sir. He bringeth them to their desired haven Beautiful words, Mrs. Bunting. Indeed they are sir. And now at last I have found my haven of rest Yes, sir, then then you'll be taking the room. Let us see now What are you going to charge me with attendance mind? I shall be staying in most of the time and I should be wanting meals Oh, we can see to that then does 30 shillings a week suit you Why yes, sir. Yes, sir. That will be quite all right. Good, and I shall pay you in advance. My name is Mrs. Bunting. Mr. Sleuth. S-L-E-U-T-H. Think of a hound of Mrs. Bunting, and you'll never forget my name 23, 24 30, 30 shillings. Thank you, sir. And I think I should enjoy a little light supper now, Mrs. Bunting Bread and butter perhaps. Could you arrange that? Well, certainly sir. I'll do that now and if you'd be requiring any beer or spirit Certainly not. Oh, sir. What did I say? I thought you understood me, Mrs. Bunting, and I had hoped that you and your husband were abstainers But we are, sir. We don't keep nothing about. I would have had to go out and... Of course, of course. Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Bunting I fear I spoke sharply. I don't wish you to be rude. After all you You've been so kind, considerate. I hope I know a gentleman when I see one. Thank you. Thank you very much Now I'll just hurry with your supper. Did he take the room? Don't bother me now. I have to get him some supper. What did you mean? Come to the kitchen where he won't hear us. He took it early? He took the room? Yes. We're all right now. Thirty shillings. A week in advance. Oh, it's wonderful. Wonderful. Anything to see what this means? Yes, you can have Daisy now Yes. Here Bunting, we'll warm that tea pot and put some tea leaves in it. Righto, righto. Yeah, do you know something, old girl? We're not going to worry too much about Daisy being in danger of that Avenger fella. Whatever do you mean, Robbie? Well, she's not a girl who takes a drink, you know. Oh, what's that to do with it, please? Oh, something I read in the paper while he was upstairs with the gentleman. They just found out that every one of the Avengers victims had been drinking. They figured he must be some kind of a rabid abstainer. What a peculiar chance. Now hurry Bunting, please. Yeah Two thoughts. Two thoughts only, Governor Ellen's mind. The lodger's light supper and her own good fortune at having such a lodger. Mr. Sleuth was an eccentric surfer, then he was such a gentle one, so quiet, so very religiously inclined. She started up a staircase to Mr. Sleuth's room. Her husband at her side. Wounded who aren't to be safe though, one's face is back in London, eh? We all see she stays closer than the earth. Well, hopper downstairs. Hurry up, will be supper, old girl. Cast down many wounded from her. He, many strong men, have been slain by her. Come in and to know the wickedness of folly. Why, Mr. Sleuth. Yes. What is it? Those pictures. Those pretty girls. You've turned all their faces to the wall. And that maneuver, that strange action, was the beginning of Ellen's concern. Soon they came to heart a recollection of the black Inverness Cape, the small narrow bag, the urgent matter of alcoholic drink. And these details began to shape themselves into a pattern which grew more disturbing with each passing hour. The day following, the lodger did not leave the upstairs room once, nor did he leave the next day. And the oddness of this took its place in the pattern. Then too, the approaching arrival of Daisy, her stepdaughter added to her concern. On the second night, her sleep was restless with vague, horrifying images. And so when she heard the first stealthy footsteps outside her bedroom, she was instantly awake. All those steps downstairs, down the hallway, stillness, fell upon the house. And outside the streets were so silent she could hear distinctly the clock from a church tower a mile away. Told the hour. In her troubled frenzy, she pictured a lone figure plodding through the deep fog, moving quietly, stealthily, stalking, searching, finding. Soon after, she heard the lodger return. She sought to quiet the horrible dread which had possessed her. She assured herself that Daisy's arrival that day was no cause for alarm. Now she reasoned. How could there be anything really evil about so religious a gentleman as Mr. Sleuth? But for her, there was no more sleep, merely a tormented state of half consciousness, a state which suddenly dropped from her shortly after the daybreak. Horrible murder. That was the pressing scream of a newsboy far down the street. Her inventory heard the boy cry out the event as late as stroke, made during the night. The glimpse that morning of the gray-faced lodger brought the steepest night's warm terror full to the surface. But on the next instant, she saw the pitiless, helpless, weariness in his eyes. And curiously, the terror began to pass. She found that she was hoping desperately that her fears were unfounded. Earlier, she had determined to tell Bunting of the awful convictions in her mind. Now, however, she felt she must be certain, certain before she spoke to a soul. She knew there was one thing she must examine. That was the lodger's single piece of luggage. She'd thought of it often. What could it hold? Not much in the way of clothing, surely. It was too small, too narrow. It was more like a case. A case for a knife. It was a long toward noon that Ellen found her opportunity to search the lodger's room. Soon after Bunting left to meet Daisy, Mr. Sleuth himself walked from the house. Ellen watched the tall, thin figure in the black, invaders' cape disappear down the street, and then... She rushed upstairs, into the room. Quickly, she moved to the closet. It was no different from what it had always been, utterly empty. She found nothing under the bed. She went then to the chest of drawers against the wall. She opened the top drawer and found inside nothing but a frayed shirt, two handkerchiefs. The next drawer under clothes, socks. The next empty. There remained only one possible place for the small narrow bag, the bottom drawer, and it was locked. Hugging the drawer, she heard suddenly the opening of the front door downstairs. And it's stricken. She rushed out of the room and down the hall to the head of the stairs. Upstairs, Ellen? Ellen, Daisy's here. Oh, Mother Ellen, it's so good to see you. Oh, whatever's the matter? Yes, you've gone quite white. Oh, well, I... I'm all right. I wasn't expecting you so soon. Oh, you don't know how fine it is to be back, Mother Ellen. Oh, the country's all right in its way, but there's nothing like London now, is there? No, no, there isn't. But as long as that adventure's about, I can see we're going to have to do something about these blonde locks, Ellen. Oh, don't worry about that. I'll die, maybe, or just pin them under my hat. Daisy, I might as well get you settled. Oh, now, Father, isn't that just like it? She's straight to the point, and no point. Well, I'll bet a six when she'll have a dust cloth in her head before you've got your coat off. Mrs. Bunting, I see my door is open. Oh, we were just leaving, sir. Does this mean that all of you have been in my room? Oh, not at all, sir. What must I do? Keep it locked? But you see, sir, I was just tidying up a bit, and Mr. Bunting, he brought his daughter up, sir. She just arrived. This is Daisy, sir. Nice to meet you, sir. She's been away for quite a long while, you see, Mr. Sleuth, and that's why we're a bit excited, you might say. Yes, you must have been surprised when you came and everything was laughing and carrying on that way. Yes, yes. I must say I was. However, Mr. Daisy, there are all types of joy other than not. Yes. I'm sure there are. The despicable evil joy of the abandoned, and the divine happiness of the blessed. A vast difference that. You do understand me, don't you? Yes, sir. Yes, Mr. Sleuth. I devoutly hope so, Miss Daisy. Nowadays, there are so very few young women like yourself who do. In fact, I all but despaired ever of finding one. If you'll excuse us now, sir, we'll be getting Daisy's things put away. Of course, Mrs. Bunting, and I must be getting to my room. Believe me, Miss Daisy, there's been a revelation to meet you. Oh, thank you, sir. I'm sure we shall have much to discuss. He's a queer one, all right. He's such a gentleman, you see. At that moment, Annan had been determined to pour out her terrible knowledge, and then the moment passed by. She told herself that perhaps the past few days have been nothing more than a grim illusion, a tormenting play of imagination. She would wait then until she had attended the coroner's inquest into the last avenger murder. There, perhaps, she would hear evidence to disprove all her fears, to assure her there was no earthly harm in Daisy being so near the lodge. This was her grave is concerned now, for on the next day, Mr. Sleuth made it a point to see the girl more than once. And fearfully, Ellen saw that Daisy welcomed his visits. As Ellen was preparing to step out of the inquest, she heard once more the voices of her stepdaughter and the lodger coming to her through the kitchen door. She hesitated before entering. Tense. Strangely apprehensive. You should hear what Mr. Sleuth was just saying. Perhaps, Daisy, you would excuse yourself. He thinks people, and especially girls, should spend all their time praying. I sought to explain, Mrs. Bunting, that all women are placed on this earth filled with evil. They therefore must struggle constantly to find the paths of righteousness. Why, Mr. Sleuth, you mean a girl's not to enjoy life at all? Not to have fun? Fribolity, my child, is the devil's breeding ground. And all his implements are there. Temptation. Pleasure. Oh, that's crazy. Well, there's nothing I like better than a glass of wine. You drink. She didn't know what she was saying, Mr. Sleuth. Just a child, and Daisy, you'd better go now. But I didn't say nothing wrong. What's so harm in a glass of wine? She lieth in wait as for a prey and increases the transgressors among men. I don't know what you mean. I never heard such nonsense. You call holy scripture nonsense? So what I prayed against is true. You are beyond salvation. That's not so. What are you saying? Daisy, go into the front room. It's quite all right, Mr. Spunty. I must be going upstairs anyway. I'm used to being misunderstood, you know. People never realize that my efforts are simply for the greater good of humanity. Of course, sir. And that the power on high will direct my hand toward the expulsion of all evil. Daisy. Daisy, listen to me. Yes? I've got to tell you about. About? I'll be back. The moment to reveal the secret horror had come again and passed. Erin's sudden recollection of Mr. Sleuthers, he stood in the doorway, had overwhelmed her. She must give him this last chance, this last frantic search for his proving evidence, this trip to the inquest. If that chance should fail, then she would tell Bunty or the police. So with the knowledge that Bunty was left in the house to look after Daisy, she boarded the underground train bound out. But as the train pulled away from the station, a new torture came to her. It began to mount in her mind. It was the sudden realization that provided Sleuthers was no matter. She was equally responsible for his crimes. She had been giving him protection. Protection. Protection. If anything should happen to Daisy, she would be equally guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Fully as guilty as... the Avenger. Seated at the rear of the small but crowded inquest room, listened to each of the witnesses as they were called. And from one of them she found the first hope she had known for many days. This witness lived next to the alley in which the Avenger had committed his crime that night. She had seen him from a window and the man she described in no way resembled the Avenger. But in another moment, Ellen's hope was swept away. It was pointed out that the fog had been so heavy that the witness could not possibly have seen the murderer from her window. She left the stand replaced by a Mr. Cannot. This elderly gentleman was certain that he had not only seen but talked with the Avenger. He was in Regions Park he testified only a few moments before the moments before the murder, Mr. When I saw him, he was quite a tall man, a handbag, you say? Yes, a small narrow one, just such a bag I might add as might contain a knife. I then heard these words the tension which had been mounting up within her became almost unbearable. Rigid with horror, she gripped the arms of her chair, she heard the coroner. I shall have to ask for more order in the court. And now, Mr. Cannot, I understand you heard this man speak. Oh yes, he had a rather high hesitating voice, an educated man I would judge but quite man. What do you mean by that? Well, as he emerged from the fog, he was talking aloud to himself. Believe me, sir, he was reciting scriptures from the Bible. Scriptures from the Bible, horrified Ellen Rose from her seat only half hearing the confusion about her. Are you asking us to believe I would say, Mr. Cannot, that the man we are looking for would be least of all and that's where you're in error, Mr. Cannot. The religious note is the very key to the case. Very interesting. That'll be all, Mr. Cannot. Just a moment, sir. Don't you understand? The man you're after must be a religious maniac. That's the only explanation possible. You will please stand down. The court was dismissing the very truth. Ellen knew that now. She would no longer keep silent. Her hand shut forth and she screamed. Ellen Bunting, on the verge of speaking, had fainted. And then, when she was revived, a few moments later, she said nothing. Her brain was in too great a turmoil. Her nerves too shocked. Like one in a dream, she allowed herself to be led from the courtroom. The voices of spectators were only vague sounds. Yes, it was hysterics. Yeah, that bit about the knife. Yeah, the knife. The knife. She was seated at home with the remarks from the spectators remain in her mind. She heard them over and over. That bit about the knife. Such a bag is making them. We all see she stays closer than the house, eh? No army being safe. Direct my hand toward the expulsion of all evil. Expulsion of all evil. What's the harm in a glass of wine? As Ellen neared her neighborhood, her bed increased. With each moving footstep, she was two streets away from the house. Then one, then then you're so bunting. Sharply like the thrust of a knife, she realized what this meant. Daisy was left alone with a lodger. Oh, bunting, tell me bunting. Where's Daisy? Where is she? I say, where? Oh, listen to me, try to understand. Sleuth is the Avenger. What are you saying? Oh, lodger, he is the Avenger bunting. Oh, but there's no time for that. Daisy's in danger. Yes, Daisy. She's not there. She's not downstairs. Then there's just his room open the door. You say, cut, what's the idea, Hitch? I've a few more lines to do. As Mr. Marshall, the narrator you have, not as Mr. Sleuth, the lodger. Hitch, you can't stop the play right here. It isn't fair, you know. Why isn't it bad? What more is there to say? Mr. Hitchcock, won't people want to know what bunting and me found in the room? All right, Ellen. What precisely did you find? There. You see? Nothing. No lodger, no Bible. And that locked dresser drawer. What about that? We unlocked it, sir. And what was in it? Nothing, sir. You are certain, Mrs. Bunting? Oh, you gave me quite a turn, Mr. Sleuth. I mean Mr. Marshall. Yes, sir, I'm sure, sir. There was nothing. Well, picking your part, Mr. Hitchcock, I don't think we'd better just mention about Daisy. I don't know bunting. Well, she's gone out for a walk, that's all. Did she enjoy it? Oh, very much, sir. Made it to King's Cross and back in just under an hour, sir. Blended time bunting. Well, there you are, Bump. There's the story. Now, wait a minute, Mr. Hitchcock. You can't do that. That's not the story. Of course it's not. Look here, Hitch. Here's the fellow who composed and conducted all our music. Wilbur Hatch. He wants to know about this, too. Everybody does. All right, Bump. What did they want to know? They want to know more about him again. And now I think we ought to say something about the Columbia Four-Cards show for... Mr. Hitchcock, sir, will you please... Stop him, Mr. Marshall. Hitch, listen to me. Yes? What is it? They want to know when the Avenger finally was caught. Oh, well, let me ask you something about it. Are you acquainted with Loretta Young? Yes. What's that got to do with it? Well, in next week's Columbia Preview series, Miss Young will take the starring role in the drama of an American Red Cross nurse. That's good news, isn't it? That audience exactly when and how Mr. Sleuth was caught. Caught? Why on earth should he be caught? Why? Well, he was the Avenger, wasn't he? Was he? Your guest's gentle listener is as good as ours. Even Mrs. Bella Clowns, who wrote the novel, isn't entirely sure. For his masterful direction, our thanks to Alfred Hitchcock, whose latest pictures are David O. Selznick's Rebecca and Walter Wenger's foreign correspondent. For his superb characterization of Mr. Sleuth, our thanks to Herbert Marshall and our thanks to the outstanding British character actor, who tonight portrayed the role of Bunting, Edmund Gwen. If you like tonight's program and want to hear more in the same highly original Hitchcock vein, radio versions of the Lady Vanishes and the 39 Steps, for example, write to CBS and tell us so. Your interest will help bring suspense to the air as a weekly feature. Forecast next week presents from Hollywood, Loretta Young in Angel, first of a proposed series of actresses and the romance of a typical Red Cross nurse. From New York, a new sort of comedy show, Ed Gardner as Archie in Duffy's Tavern, with Gertrude Neeson, Colonel Stoopnagle, Larry Adler and John Kirby's Orchestra. Don't miss forecast at this hour next week. Promise Prevents with speaking, this is the Columbia Broadcasting System.