 Hello creeps. Yes, this is Private Z opening the doors of the mystery playhouse again. You know, there are many types of crime and detective story, but one of the favorites concerns the perfect crime motive. A crime so clever, so foolproof, that the criminal will not be detected. But man's not a robot. He's a delicately balanced mechanism whose emotions sometimes betray him. Such is Stanley Morgan whom you meet tonight in the story not quite perfect. Long after midnight in a New York apartment, a man hunches over a typewriter. Nearby on the floor lies the still body of a woman. The veins on the man's forehead stand distended and his hands are wet with sweat as he writes. I, Stanley Morgan, make this confession of my own free will. All my life had been a coward and a failure. The only thing I ever succeeded at was murder. I'd once thought of myself as a potential playwright. And yet this story here is the first and last I'll ever write. And this wouldn't have been written if I had not met Esther, a lovely, desirable, exciting woman. She was everything a man could want in a woman. And she was practical and materialistic, too. Oh, Stanley, you're so amusing. Charging around like a white knight begging me to marry you and share your poverty. Don't laugh at me, Esther. I'm not a complete fool. I know we've got to have money to be happy and a lot of money. But even if we had money, Stanley, you'd need a divorce first. And your wife will never give you one. Well, anyway, promise me you won't marry Bob Randall. Not this year, darling. I might have parted with my wife Margaret many years ago if her father hadn't died and left her fortune and trust for her. Living under the spell of all that money destroyed any ambition I might have had. And heaven knows, to be a playwright, you've got to have ambition. As a consequence, the last 10 years of our marriage were years spent in the presence of that scorn and despising that a woman reserves for a man she keeps. Methodically, every Friday Margaret gave me $25 and $1 bills. Here's your allowance, Stanley. Oh, thank you, Margaret. There you're cutting down on me. There's only $17 here. Don't you remember? You lost your temper last week and broke a vase. I deducted $8 to replace it. One day I was sitting in a bar and I fell into conversation with the bartender and suddenly I realized that I was going to murder my wife. George, how about another drink? You sure pack away the rye, Mr. Morgan. Maybe I should just leave the bottle here. Rye expands a soul, George. Trouble with people? They don't give their souls enough exercise. You having trouble with your wife, Mr. Morgan? I'll make you say that. No, no, no, don't get sore. I'm not poking my nose in your business. Only when a guy about 40 years old starts talking about how Rye gives gymnastics for the soul, well, I know he's having wife trouble. Now, take that guy over there. He ain't been home for two days. He's a funny one. Got involved in a trick-holdup the other day. Well, all right, you can't stop there. You got my curiosity up. Scooty thing. That guy and his wife was walking home the other night. Dark, understand? Well, some bozo jumps out of the bush. Give me your money or your life. This guy throws up his hands. But there must have been something about the woman the burglar didn't like. So he whores off and gives it to him a black eye. Funny, she must have been holding out. I got a better theory. Oh, theory goes better, huh? Or give. It was dark, see? In a way, I figured this guy took advantage of the situation, to slug his wife and blame it on the burglar. Ha, ha, ha. Gee, I ain't I just a natural born enemy of marriage? Far as quickly as I could. I was tingling with excitement. The bartender had unwittingly suggested a scheme for a perfect crime. And as a playwright, well, a potential playwright. A plan appeal of my imagination. I went to the subway and I caught a train for the barry. And there in a little side street saloon, I met a man. A man who was going to help me kill my wife. Hey, waiter, bring me and my friend another drink, will you? You, uh, want another drink, don't you, mister? Call me Red. Okay, Red. Uh, my name is Morgan Stanley Morgan. Forget it. Better not to have a name around a place like this. A derelict like me don't need a name. A sightseer like you is better off without one. Hey, hey, you, you sound as if you got it into somebody. I got it in for everybody. But mostly I got it in for myself. Maybe what? You need a new chance, Red. Are you kidding me, mister? That spit about a new chance hanging on a gab boon. I'm a professional derelict. I'm a bum by preference and opportunity. I keep one eye out for the main chance. And the other skeptical of fall down games. Now what's on your mind? Well, there's one thing I like, Red. It's a man who lays all his cards on the table. See, I came here looking for someone like you because... Spit it out? Well, what I mean is I need someone to do a, well, not exactly pleasant job for me. I don't do no murders. I didn't ask you to do a murder, did I? Jump? However, for a fee, I'll put you next to somebody who'll knock down anybody you want. Well, no, what I get out of my mind is quite respectable. I don't care about that part. How much money's involved? $100. You're lying. There's nothing respectable about $100. But spread it out once. Let's see where it goes. Looks like this, Red. You see, I've been married to a woman for 20 years and just recently I met another woman and I... wrote her some letters. Oh, you chump. You great, big, stupid chump. Yeah, yeah, I know it was a very foolish thing to do, but I couldn't know she was after my money. And you want the letters back, huh? Okay, what's the layout? Well, there's a doctor's headed street in your house and tonight I'll be walking down that street with the woman. I'll tell her I've agreed to pay for the letters and ask her to bring them. And I jump out of a bush, throw a gun and take everything both of you got, including the letters. Right, right. And you know I won't keep the letters and blackmail you myself. Well, I just have to take that chance. Okay. Make it $150 and you've purchased a boy. I realized how far the idea of murder had progressed with me. By nature, I was no killer. Bloodshed and violence have never been a part of my life. And yet the lure of money and my desire for rest have possessed me and drove me on. In accordance with my plan then I invited Margaret to a late movie and on the way home it happened. I just can't get over it, Stanley. You're taking me to the movies for a change. I have to do something. I earn my $25 a week, don't I? Stanley, why are we turning here? You're afraid to walk down a dark street with me, Margaret? Really, Stanley, that tone of voice. I didn't know that all you're capable of is taking money from a woman and carrying on a trashy little love affair. Stanley, Stanley, what's that? I don't see anything, Margaret. A man. Look out. Stanley, uh, don't make a sound. It's a stick. Do as he says, Margaret. He's got a gun. Okay, lady, folk over your handshake. Give it to him, Margaret. Go ahead. Give it to him. Be quick with it. Be quick. All right. Here you are. Now put your hands up. Hey, what do you think you're doing? Be careful with that gun. Yeah. Yeah, Margaret. I had a gun. I killed himself to fence. And now I'm going to take his gun. Stanley, Stanley, you arranged the whole thing. I see it all you. You deliberately had that man hold us up so you could... 25 a week in one dollar bills. Police department, please send somebody to Hudson Avenue near Pine. There's been a holdup. A flag has shot my wife. Police thought I had killed the holdup man and that he had killed my wife. About a month later, Esther and I were discussing our forthcoming marriage. She called me on the phone and she was saying... I think we should be married, right? Okay, dear. Uh, just one thing. I'd like to go to South America for our honeymoon. Is that all right with you? You know, we could go to Rio and then when we're tired of Rio... Hang up the phone, Stanley. What? I didn't say anything. I just got to start. Hang up the phone, Stanley. Call your back, Esther. Just somebody who came in. Surprised to see me, Stanley? Oh, it can't be you. Not you. You're dead. You're dead. No, I'm dead. Not a bit dead. Where? Where did you come from? The door was open, so I just walked in. I'm capping you. You're dead. I killed you. No, you just thought I was dead. You couldn't have taken a good look at the corpse, or you would have known it wasn't me. Or couldn't you stand to look at the corpse? It wasn't you, I sure. It was somebody else. Right. That swell layout you got here. Oriental rugs. Paintings. It adds up to a lot of shackles. You sent somebody else. The substitute. You tricked me. You got a one-track mind. You take me for a sucker, I should show up for a fall-down job. I found a guy who wanted to make a quick 50. He gave him the gun and I said to myself, that's an end of the business. Imagine my surprise when I read in the newspapers about my friend. All shot up. And your wife too, Morgan. Shut up. Shut up, do you hear? Okay, be sensitive. So I investigate and what do I discover? Stanley Morgan inherits 75,000 fish. Well, it's plain to me that Stanley hasn't been playing cricket with me. You can't prove a thing. Okay, so I'll just sip the police off and let them do the proven. After they've been shooting questions at you for 24 hours. No, no, no, no. I couldn't take it. Now that we, uh, off business, huh? I won't pay a penny in blackmail. Oh, now I didn't think you were selfish, Morgan. I just don't understand you at all. Won't pay blackmail, nasty word. Would rather go to the electric frying pan. Well, you're dirty. All right, man. How much do you want? Now, you collected 75,000. I leave you 10,000. I won't pay. Listen, Morgan, I thought I was being generous. 10,000 ain't, hey, you could do a lot with 10,000, but no, you weasel around. Oh, no, no, no. Wait, wait, wait. But I'll pay you the money. Oh, Lord, how I wish it had been you on the other end of that gun. How I wish it had been you. Have your fun, Stanley. Only get me that money and get it today. The banks are still open. Get going. I'll be waiting right here for you. On the way to the bank to get the money for red, I learned a fundamental truth about myself. I am hopelessly and irrevocably a coward. It's one thing to write about murder, to conceive a plan of murder, but you've got to be tough minded to carry it off. And I wasn't tough. I was just a frustrated writer. All the way back to the house, I thought only a vest and how I was going to tell her our marriage was off, so... I was pretty surprised when I came in the house to find... What are you doing here? I was worried about you, dear. You broke off so abruptly on the telephone. Well, I couldn't help it. How long you been here? She came right after you left, all in a jiffy. I wish I had a female crazy about me. I wish it wouldn't come in unexpectedly this way. Oh, Stanley, I'm awfully sorry. There's really no need for you to be nervous anymore. Yeah, relax. I told a girlfriend all about it. You told? What did you tell her? About Margaret. About the money. I sort of wised her up. Don't like to see a charming woman like that marry a guy she doesn't know all about. I'm sentimental about charming women. I should have killed you a little while ago, right? Stanley, you should be in the comics. Well, now you know everything, Esther. I killed my wife and this fellow's blackmailing me for it. I killed her for a money so that you and I could be together. Stanley. Oh, don't say it. Don't say anything. I fumbled the whole thing and I almost got away with it. If it hadn't been for red, I'd... Yeah, me. Smart little me. Here's your money. Take it and get out. No, no, no. Just hold it in your hand. Hold it in for a minute. I want to see how a guy's face looks when he's given just 65,000 bucks away. I'll take that. Hey, Esther, what's the idea, sweetheart? Hand that go back. No, good, Red. You're not getting this. Now, look, you... We're not going to be bled the rest of our lives, Red. The way to stop blackmail is before it starts. Esther, give him the money. He'll go to the police. No, he won't. Because I'm going to the police first. Oh, you... You wouldn't. Well, Red... Don't tell me that you're speechless for one. Oh, am I? Well, then what? What are you doing, Esther? Hello, Operator. Give me the police department. Morgan, stop that screwy damage to Nick. No, it's your Nick, Red. You see, the way I tell it, you were in that hold up, too. You escaped, and then you came here with some silly lie that Stanley arranged the whole thing by... You signed to blackmail us. But we're proving our innocence by going directly to the police. Oh, hello. Police department. Please connect me with the police commissioner. Esther, don't question me. Grill me. I can't afford that. You think Red can? Look at his face. Prison record written all over it. You're bluffing. You don't dare. You're sweet of your hang. As far as I'm concerned, you're both hanged before I pay you one cent of blackmail. Esther. Remember, Red, you were an accomplice to this murder. An accomplice. Hello, commissioner. No, you don't. That's very effective, Red. Now all you have to do is follow me around for the rest of your life. Breaking the connection every time I call a policeman. No, no, no, no. Look, here we can make a deal. No thanks. Just give me ten cents. Oh, are you... Five cents. Five hundred. It'll buy you a nice long railroad trip. Give him the money, Stanley. Now look. Take it and get out, Red. Okay, hand it over. And don't forget, Red, if the police ever hear about this, even anonymously, I'll testify that you were an accomplice. Okay. So long, Morgan. And, uh, watch yourself. You got a tiger on your hands, Red. Oh, it seems like a dream. I don't know how you did it. I guess you did everything I should have done. Oh, you're just so magnificent. I-I-I blundered the whole thing so badly. I'm really a coward as hard-asted. Seems I have the kind of temperament that can only conceive a murder, but when it comes to it, well, I have to say something. Don't don't let me babble on like this. Well, we'll-we'll be married now, after I... Suppose I'm not really good enough for you, but... No. No, you aren't. Esther. I want a man, Stanley. Esther? I would have married you, Stanley, before this. I forgave you your fault. I thought you were an artist. Temperamental, eccentric. Someone who should be indulged. But now I know you're just a coward. But after everything worked out perfectly, we have the money... I have the money. Tires and the thing of forever correcting people. Well, don't just sit there gaping, Stanley. I've waited five years for a man I thought I was in love with. I've given up everything for him. Don't you think I deserve something? I want that money, Stanley. And I'm going to marry Bob Randall. You have an ability. What? The inevitability of the tragic. Sit down. What are you talking about? That was a dramatic theory of the ancient Greeks. The hero of a tragedy is always... hopelessly ensnared by faith. In death... is his inevitable end. Stanley. Stop it. I committed two murders for you. Stanley. You... stay away from me. What are you doing? You left for me to do it. Don't you see how... inevitable it all is. But a rotten play... wouldn't last two weeks on Broadway. Don't you think so? Wouldn't last two weeks on Broadway. Call the police. I'll be here any minute now. I wonder how many weeks before I'm tried and... executed. The only way I could ever write anything honest... and sincere... and true to life... was by playing the leading character. Past closing time in the mystery playhouse, so... the nice, sweet pipe... is the armed forces radio service.