 Suspends. This is the man in black. Here again to introduce Columbia's program, Suspends. Our starring Hollywood cast of characters reads as follows for tonight. As Anjule, one of those stark, severe, and terrifying women who is encountered ever so often along the grimmer outposts of the American countryside, Miss Agnes Moorehead. As Cara Linden, the girl who returned to a scene of childhood happiness, found terror living in the house, Miss Ellen Drew. As Paul Carroll's husband, who had his own ideas as to the explanation of these strange events, Mr. Ted Reed. A first radio play by Larry Roman called Uncle Henry's Rosebush is tonight's Tale of Suspends. If you have been with us before, you will know that suspense is compounded of mystery and suspicion and dangerous adventure. In this series, our tales calculated to intrigue, stir your nerves to offer you a precarious situation and then withhold a solution until the last possible moment. And so it is with Uncle Henry's Rosebush and the performances of Agnes Moorehead as Anjule, Ellen Drew as Carol and Ted Reed as Paul. We again hope to keep you in suspense. I shall tell you the story exactly as it happened. There's no use pretending. I'll never forget. And I know I'll not awake and find it all a dream. It's real, and for the rest of my life, I shall know it's real. Paul was to have his first vacation since we were married. I suggested we visit my Aunt Julie and Uncle Henry, who had a small farm upstate. They had always been very kind to me. When I was a child, I used to spend my summer vacations with them. They loved children. I've often wondered why they never had any of their own. Some time ago, I'd lost track of them. They'd never seen Paul, and I was certain they'd like to. Paul said it would be fine. We'll surprise them, I thought. We were the ones who were surprised. Just a few more miles, Paul. Remember this road? We used to hike along it going to the village. This country air is wonderful. Two weeks of green grass and wicker chairs. I can't think of anything better. You'll love Aunt Julie and Uncle Henry. They live alone, quiet and peaceful. It'll be quite a change from the city. Now they must be happy together. How they are, but they're lonely. Smooth lawns and orchards and flowers. Uncle Henry planted huge rose bushes around the porch. Every night as I crawled in the bed, he used to bring me a rose. They're his favorite flowers. Ah, vacation, here we come. Come on, Carl, let's go. Just around the bend. Here we go. There it is. Carol, look. Why, Paul? Are you sure this is the place? Yes, but all the weeds and the broken shutters. Looks as though it's been neglected for months. I don't understand. Perhaps it's deserted. But it can't be. It's their home. Come on, let's go up and see. The dirt on this porch must be an inch thick. No answer. Nobody here. Look, Paul, over there at the end of the porch. The rose bush. Uncle Henry's rose bush. Why, it's trimmed and neat. It's the only thing that seems to be taken care of. Well, then somebody must be here. Maybe they can tell us what happened to Aunt Julie and Uncle Henry. Knock again. Someone's coming. Well? We're looking for a Mr. and Mrs. Connors. They used to live. Why Aunt Julie? I didn't recognize you. But it's me, Aunt Julie. It's Carol. I wasn't expecting you. Paul's vacation. We thought we'd spend it here. Well, you've been asking for us for years. This is Paul, my husband. Carol's told me so much about you. Why did you come? What? I said, why did you come? Aren't you glad to see us? Aunt Julie, something's happened. Nothing's happened. Oh, but it did. Tell me, Aunt Julie will help. Well, of course we will. You shouldn't have come. Well, Carol, if she doesn't want us, let's go. No, Paul. This isn't like you, Aunt Julie. Something dreadful has happened. I know it. Go, Carol. Please go. Listen, if it's money, Aunt Julie, well, we haven't got too much, but you're welcome to it. I tell you, nothing's wrong. But there must be. This house. You're her husband. I'm asking you to take her and go away. Come on, Carol. We're not wanted. Let's go. We're going to stay. Well, there you are. She's your niece, and you know how stubborn she can be. We're going to stay. Where's Uncle Henry? I say, where's Uncle Henry? He's not here. But where is he? He's not here. Isn't that enough? Well, he's there. He won't be. Oh, but Aunt Julie. He won't ever be back. So there'd be Wilterd and Julie had run out of the room. Perhaps she was crying. I don't know. I just knew that Uncle Henry was gone. The kid left her. It seemed strangely impossible. They'd always been so happy, so supremely happy that it seemed that the only thing that could separate them on this earth was death. And now this. I couldn't believe it. Paul and I walked into the living room. It was almost as dusty as the outside. The curtains were dirty. The floor littered with old newspapers. The entire room showed the same signs and neglect as the outside. And when I recalled how neat Aunt Julie had always been with her housework, all a feeling of apprehension crawled up my back. Frankly, I was fright, frightfully worried. And I could tell by the look on Paul's face that he was worried too. I don't like it, Paul. There's something strange here. Yeah, I never saw a house in such a mess. It's not just the house. It's more than that. Something much more. I'm sure of it. Well, really, Carol, it's none of our business, don't you? Well, perhaps not. But you don't know Aunt Julie like I do. She'd never ask for help. No matter how much she needed it. I'm just not trying, Paul. I suppose you're right. They've always been so kind to me. I've got to help them. But how can we, Carol? We don't even know what's wrong. They were always so happy together. Somehow, I can't believe they broken up. Something else has happened. Something terrible. And I'm going to stand till I find out what. Well, in that case, we better find a place to sleep. All the bedrooms are upstairs. Come on. Right. Look at the dust on the banister. I bet this place hasn't been cleaned in a month. Paul, did you see the way she looks? Yeah. She, her face seems completely wrinkled with worry. No wonder I didn't recognize her. She seems much older and frightened. Well, do you think she's ill? I don't know. I wish I did. Look at that haul. Gloomy and dirty. Where do these doors go to? That one's to Aunt Julie's room. And this one's Uncle Henry's. The one across the way is the spare. I guess that's ours. Well, let's go in. What a mess. Well, might as well get busy cleaning. Yeah. It's nothing like a good round of house cleaning before supper. Paul, so long as Uncle Henry's not here, maybe we can take his room. It's got an adjoining door to Aunt Julie's. And in case she needs it, we'll be near. OK. It doesn't matter to me which room we clean. Let's go. Yeah. This one over here. Well, this is Paul. Look, it's all clean and neat. Well, I'll be darned. It's the only clean place in the whole house. I don't understand. Every room is inches and dirt, except this one. The outside is completely neglected. Except the rose bush. Uncle Henry's room and Uncle Henry's rose bush. I don't get it. Well, look, on the dresser there. Aunt Julie's picture and a pipe and tobacco. Why, that's Uncle Henry's favorite pipe. Shores full of shirts, socks, underwear. Carol, if your uncle went away, why did he leave this? I don't know. Strange, but. What's that paper, Paul? Why, it looks like it is an insurance policy for $30,000 payable to your Aunt Julie in case Uncle Henry dies. Carol, this is. What are you two doing here? Julia. What are you doing here? Well, we thought that we could. Put that in your hands. And insurance. Get into me. Put on. And keep out of this room. Oh, we didn't know that, car. I didn't know how to take this. Uncle Henry's pipe and all his clothes were still in his room. And yet, Uncle Henry was gone. I couldn't understand why Aunt Julie got so angry. I looked to Paul for an explanation. I could tell he had something on his mind, but I didn't dare ask him what it was. And he didn't say. After Aunt Julie's outburst, we went back to the spare room and cleaned it. Then we washed and started downstairs for supper. Watch your step, Carol. He's not the strongest-looking stairs. He'll be all right. Paul, who do you make him for Aunt Julie's behavior? Frankly, Carol, I'm worried. I'm frightened. May as well admit it. There's something strange here that frightens me to death. Well, I don't think there's anything to be frightened of. It's just that, oh, there. That's the last step. This way to the kitchen. All right. Oh, as I was saying, I don't think there's. Look out, Carol. Wow. That was close. That vase just missed you. Vase? Yes, and it was a heavy one. The one at the top of the stairway. It would have hit me. Yeah. Oh, Paul, I'm frightened. Look, coming down the stairs. What happened? The vase fell. Just missed Carol. Well, don't worry about it. I didn't like the vase anyway. The vase? What about Carol? She almost got killed. Never mind, Paul. It was an accident. An accident? We were just going in for supper, Aunt Julie. Care to join us? Well, I. Come on, Aunt Julie. It'll do you good. Oh, all right. Here. You two sit right down. I'll have something prepared in a minute. I'm not very hungry. Oh, nonsense, Aunt Julie. I'll fix something that'll make your mouth water. You know, when Carol and I get through cleaning this place up, it'll look just like you. Yeah? Sure. I think when Carol and I have a family, we'll take them to a farm. Really? Yes, yes. You know, this place would be swell for children. What do you mean, sir? Oh. What did I say? What's the matter? What's the matter with Aunt Julie? Where is she going? I don't know. I was just trying to make conversation. Just talked about children on a farm. That's all. Paul, I'm fightfully worried. Do you think we ought to call a doctor for her? I don't know. We have to do something. She certainly doesn't look too well. But maybe she isn't really sick. What do you mean? Well, maybe if your uncle Henry did leave her, well, then maybe he... You mean, you mean she still loves him? That's possible, but... Oh, but you don't really believe it. Oh, Carol, I don't know what to believe. I just know something's wrong. Uh-huh. I'm not hungry, Paul. Me either. Let's go for a walk. Maybe we can figure something out. A country so peaceful and beautiful in the night. Yes, it is. I wish you could enjoy it. But I can. Don't try to fool me. Your first vacation in years and you run into this. Well, we have to help her. Of course. But how? Yes, we don't even know what's wrong. She not only won't tell, but you can't get near her long enough to talk to her. Suppose Uncle Henry really did leave her. He may have gone off in a half. That would account for the clothes being here. Well, perhaps. And suppose she still is in love with him? Well, that would account for... But even if that's so, could that make her feel so badly? Make her act like this? Not talking, neglecting everything? Everything except his room and his flowers. I don't know. A woman's love is a strange thing. If you left me, I don't know what I'd do. Well, if that is the case, the thing to do is to make her forget. That won't be easy. No, I don't imagine it would be. But suppose we take her to the city with us until she forgets. Well, we could ask her at least. Yeah. Yeah, come on. Let's go find her. Hey, watch out. You almost fell. Chipped. I'm all right. Look, Paul. Look what I tripped over. It's a mound of freshly dug earth. What's that for? Paul. Paul, it looks like a grave. Don't be silly. All right, it's just a... Forget it. Come on, let's find Anjuli. Paul, let's go. Forget it. See, what's that building over there? That's the barn. There used to be a swell old cow there with a bell around her neck and chickens and ducks and all sorts of pets. This must have been a happy place. It was, but now. Paul, standing by the barn, it's Anjuli. Come on, let's ask her now. Anjuli, what are you doing, following me? How could you? Well, it was a nuisance. Oh, Anjuli. A cat with its neck rung. This was the first indication of Anjuli's ruthlessness. It seemed so unlike the Anjuli that I knew. She was always kind. There was no mistaking the anger in her eyes as she stood there in the dim moonlight. The strangled cat in her hands. She killed it, she said, because it was a nuisance. She could do that. What else was she capable of doing? Paul and I went into the house. We went upstairs and put the finishing touches in our room and went to bed. I couldn't sleep. As I watched the moon make its slow, solitary way across the heaven, I kept thinking, Paul and I are also a nuisance. Paul and I are also a nuisance. Tarned midnight, I became drowsy and was just beginning to fall off to sleep when I heard footsteps in the hall. Paul, Paul, wake up. What is that? Shh. I hear footsteps in the hall. Footsteps? I don't hear anything. There. Yeah. Must be Anjuli. What would she be doing up this time of night? I don't know, but who else could it be? I'll go see. I'm coming with you. Now quiet. Don't put on the light. See? No, I can. It isn't, Anjuli. She's walking down the hall. I think she's coming this way. I think she's. What's she got in her hand? Looks like a. What would she be doing with? Carol, she's coming this way. Get back in bed quick. What? Get in bed. All right now, quiet. She just looked in and left. Do you think she knew we were awake? I don't see how. Let's follow her. All right. Where's my other slipper? There. All right, come on. She's going downstairs. Come on and be quiet. I think she's going outside. Let's go. Not so fast. Give her a chance to get out. There she's out. Come on. Putting a bunch of roses off the bush. She's taking them around to the back of the house. Come on. Get down behind this bush. She's going over to that mound and placing the roses on it. She's kneeling beside it. Now she's getting up. Do you know what that is? I got a pretty good idea. Uncle Henry's roses was Uncle Henry's grave. I said it. I said it without thinking. Of course, we had no way of knowing Uncle Henry was dead. We had no way of knowing that that was Uncle Henry's grave or that it was a grave at all. But at that moment, stooping behind the bush in the blackness of the country, we felt it, not knowing why. Paul and I went back to our room as quickly and as silently as possible, needless to say, we didn't sleep anymore. We just kept looking at each other, asking ourselves questions, trying to analyze our feelings. Soon we could see the streaks of dawn coming up over the treetops. And we slept the early morning hours trying to convince each other that our thoughts were ridiculous. Frankly, I don't think we succeeded. Finally we decided not to mention it, to go on with the cleaning the next day as we'd planned to make believe nothing had happened until we had proof. That day we spent cleaning, and all day Aunt Julie was nowhere to be seen. Yet I had a strange feeling that something, someone was watching our every move. Toward evening, Paul and I sat down for a bite to eat. More coffee? Oh, thanks. I wonder where Aunt Julie is. I don't know, Carol. That's a strange aunt you've got. Yes. Oh, look, the window. What is it? Oh, I thought I saw someone looking in. What? There's no one there now. But I'm sure I saw it. Probably just a shadow. Yes, probably just a shadow. You're on edge, Carol. I'll be all right. Finish your coffee. I'll start cleaning the bathroom. I mean, we'll both work on the kitchen, and I'll take care of the downstairs. All right. Paul, you look worried. You know, this whole crazy business. Let's not talk about it. But putting roses on it, it's you I'm really worried about it. If something should happen to you, I'll never forgive myself. Nothing will happen. I'll finish your coffee. I'll start cleaning the bathroom. OK, Carol. I won't be long. Isn't too bad. There's the sink, some hot water, and that's it. The wash rag around the sink bowl, just the wind. Yes, I'm getting jumpy. This place won't be half bad when it's clean. The medicine chest, clean the mirror, and the shelves. Oh. What is it, Carol? Come here. What is it, Carol? What's the matter? Look, they're in the medicine chest. What? It's a hypodermic needle. What would a hypodermic needle be doing here? It's not likely to be here for nothing. Look, alongside of it, a bottle of, what's it say? I can't read it. It's awful looking stuff. Open the bottle. All right. That cork's in tight. There, there. Nauseating. Stuff like that would kill a person. Paul, it's not a joke. I'm sorry, Carol. Do you really think Aunt Julie? I don't know. Oh, it can't be, Paul. It can't be. Maybe not, but we better find out. And quickly, Carol, there's one more thing to do. I'm going to see if that's really Uncle Henry's grave. I'm going to dig it up. Well, Paul, you can't. Don't you see, I have to. If it is, we're in danger. Of course. I'm still not sure that falling vase was an accident. We have to find out about this business once and for all. Well, I'm coming with you. We will come toward the back of the house. Through my mind, flasks the succession of events. Neglected house, Aunt Julie's insistence that we leave, the roses, the grave, the insurance policy, and now the hypodermic needle and that infernal oil. All the evidence pointed to but one conclusion. I couldn't believe it, and yet there it was, motive and method. And now we were going outside to dig up the last remaining evidence. Well, this is it, Cal. Sure you want to watch? I won't stay in this house alone. Look at the beautiful roses around it. Hurry up, Paul. Let's get it over with. OK. Here goes. I never thought I'd turn into a grave digger. This dirt isn't packed tight. Easy to dig. Getting dark. Yeah. I think I'll run in and get a lantern. I'll be right back, Cal. All right. Every one of those lengthening shadows look like a ghost. It gets dark quickly in the country. I was afraid, but I knew Paul would be back in a minute. I picked up the shovel and began to dig. That's better. I'm not so nervous. I'm working. Is that you behind me, Paul? Bring the lantern closer. It's so dark. Paul. Paul, I- What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing to my grave? Put it back. Put it back. Oh, my flowers, my beautiful flowers, my lovely roses. You've hurt them. You've hurt my roses, and I won't let you. I won't. Get away. Get away from me, Henry. Why don't you hurt my roses? My sweet, delicate roses. Take your hands away. Take them. You broke them. You killed them. Stop it. Stop it, Henry. I'm going to kill her after she did my roses. Stop it. Get your hands away. Get her. Get me. Get me. Oh, forgive me, Henry. I didn't mean. Are you all right, Carol? Yes. Oh. Yes, I think so. What happened? What? Aunt Julie saved my life, Paul. And we thought she... Oh, can you ever forgive us, Aunt Julie? You didn't know. You didn't know. Did it, Paul? No. No, he wasn't. I don't understand. He was living in his room all the time, Carol. I was taking care of him. When you two insisted on staying here, I kept him out of sight. Oh, I didn't want to kill him, but I had to. He would have killed Carol. Aunt Julie. Oh, if you only had left when I asked you to. But perhaps it's better this way. He never got that violent before. I could always take care of him. The hypodermic needle in the sedative calmed him when he got a little while. But then when I saw him strangle the cat, I knew he was getting completely out of hand. Yes, it's better this way. He's better off dead. Poor Uncle Henry. The grave and the roses were a whim of his. A whim. And look, he felt right in his own grave. And so closes the story. Uncle Henry's Rose Bush, starring Agnes Moorehead, Ellen Drew, and Ted Reed, tonight's tale of suspense. This is your narrator, the man in black, who conveys to you Columbia's invitation to spend this half hour in suspense with us again next week, same time, when we will present another flower, a bouquet of suspicion and terror, and a homicidal maniac at large. Only this time, the roses will be white. The story will be the white rose murders by Cornell Woolrich, the tale of a killer who trademarked his crimes by leaving a white rose on the victim. Our star will be Maureen O'Hara, the producer of these broadcasts, William Spear, with Ted Bliss, the director, Bernard Herman, and Lucian Mahowick, conductor and composer, and Larry Roman, the author, collaborated on tonight's suspense. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.