 Good evening. This is Crime Classics. I am Thomas Highland with another true story of crime. Listen. The drone of lawmakers before the president of the Senate wraps the gavel for silence. The year of 44 BC, the city, Rome, the conclave of the toged and jeweled men waiting the arrival of Caesar. And there stands Brutus, silk and clad and heavy jawed, and there, Cassius, sleight of figure and hawk-like features. And there, Casca, a casca later called Vile, probably he didn't deserve such a name at all, for he was only one of several who held sharp daggers beneath their vestment this day, the Ides of March. Here he comes. Tonight, in my report to you on 23 Knives Against Caesar. Crime Classics. A series of true crime stories taken from the records and newspapers of every land from every time. Your host each week, Mr. Thomas Highland, connoisseur of crime, student of violence, and teller of murders. Now once again, Mr. Thomas Highland. Julius Caesar was born in the year 102 BC, and by the time he was 16, at the year he received the toga virilis, the symbol of manhood, he was already an opinionated young fellow. I'm a direct descendant of the goddess Venus. When anybody asked him of his ancestry. And a few years later, having been house guest at many homes on both sides of the Appian Way. To all women, I am all men. Prompted to give an opinion about his prowess as a soldier. The world will taste my sword. About his intellect? A genius. Bold strategist. Of unsurpassed valor. Godlike. Which is a good time to tell you what he looked like. The Suetonius has him as a man of tall stature, fair complexion, shapely limbs, somewhat full faced and keen black eyes. He was somewhat overnight in the care of his person, a smoothly shaven with superfluous hair above his eyes, plucked out. He combed his hair forward to hide the fact of his growing baldness, a fact which disturbed him greatly. Cleopatra. Noble Caesar. Tine not your fingers in my hair. Oh, but it is the remembered touching of you that... How do you have to go back to Rome? Because it is the time to. Oh, what would be better? To float on this barge till where the Nile begins. To the heaven that lies over the edge of the world. Pretty thought. Of a woman in love. Woman. Girl. In truth. Woman. Oh, Caesar. What? There is about you. What? A divine thing. Now girl again. Something Godlike. Long ago. Oh, long ago when I first heard the name Caesar. Master of men that mastered Gaul and the unknown places beyond the seas. And my teacher said your name and what you had done. The word came to mind. Godlike. Truly. And when you came to Egypt in pursuit of Pompey and finding him already murdered and the weariness and at the same time elation on your face and I saw you for the first time. That word again. Godlike. Cleopatra. Oh, Caesar conqueror. Caesar king. Divine Caesar. Perhaps. Perhaps. Yes. When I return to Rome. A hero. Hero of the world. There will be talk as you have talked. That you are of the gods. Yes. But now soft flows the Nile and quiet curves the moon in Egypt's sky. And I am at the feet of my conqueror. Child queen. In the first century BC. Triumphant parade. Infants of hero. People on Roman holiday. Julius Caesar has returned to the city. Past the temple of Concordia. Past the house of the Vestos. Turn left under the arch of Septimus Severeus and into the forum. Caesar has come home from Egypt. The conqueror is home again and Laurel Reaves sets well upon his brow. Everything will be all right again. Caesar will see to it and he mounts the rostrum and the crowd hushes and Caesar speaks. I came. I saw. This last day left your bosoms. Goal once torn asunder by marauding and barbaric tribes is now united and pays homage and tribute to all of us here. With Pompey is at an end. Pompey is dead in Alexandria and his legions I pursued into the desert. And I, these things I must tell you those veterans of my legions who wish it will receive land and booty in the transferring colonies. Those among you who are without slaves may choose among the barbarians. The prisoners. The constitution of our state will be re-explored so that you, my people, will reap its blessings and rewards no longer at the mercy of corruption. These things by divine word. These things by the divinity which lies close to me. And this is the first time on record that Julius Caesar hinted openly of his divine potential. He didn't shout it. He just let it fall nice and easy against the ears of the Roman citizen. And speaking of Roman citizens, I'd like you to meet a couple. One's name is Flavius, a shopkeeper 43 years old. Wife, three children, hobbies, the spring rituals, Greek picture stories, ambition to visit Greece. And the second citizen is named Luca. Son of Timber, another worker, 40 years old, wife, two children, hobbies, the arena watching all sports. Just average gentlemen, family men, decent, home-loving, owning a toga for dress and one for work and sandals to match. And friends. And now and then they were apt to meet on the street, somewhere near their respective shops. Hey Luca, hey Flavius, where do you go? Returning from the parade. Where am I? A spectacle. Yes. What is the... Here where I have lifted my son Cassio on my shoulder so he could see. I have seen your Cassio. He waxes with each day. Did you get close enough to here, Caesar? Yes. What did you think? Well, I'm not sure either. What about the slaves? Are you going to take a slave? I've got four to feed now. He's giving too much to the veterans. Well, if it wasn't for the veterans, where would we be now? I guess so. He said he was going to... You mean about the constitution? You remember he came back from Britain? He said the same thing. He came back from Gaul, the same thing. Spain, the same thing. Now Egypt, the same thing. Only a little duster. Talking about Egypt. Cleopatra? A friend of mine in the legions saw her. Oh, well. He says in Egypt it was good to be Caesar. Listen, you want to stop over the shop. He brought back some picture stories. Maybe. Let me ask you something, Flavius. Did you hear what I heard? What do you mean? What Caesar said about divinity? I remember he said something. Divinity? You think he's trying to get us to raise temples to him? Oh, he wouldn't. No, no, no. Caesar now? Maybe so. Well, well, I have got to get back too. Give my love at home. Thumbs, thumbs. Friends gesturing each other farewell. And down this street and up a hill named capitaline hill and halfway down its farther side there was a building of marble in a grove of cypress. A building dedicated to leisure and sweating off the fat. Roman baths for the Roman nobles. Highest stratum. Slaves to bring apples and towels and pills and unguents. The tear of rocks steaming in the waters of the pool. Warm and scented. And sitting on edge, feet at dangle. Two highest stratum nobles. Brutus and Cassius waiting for their Caesar. And that's what you think, Cassius? It doesn't take a suffocleys to figure it out. Promise the poor what they want. Promise the middle class what they want. Promise the nobility what we want. That's the kind of speech it was, Brutus. And it's a danger. Danger? Consider. He can only satisfy one group by taking away from the other. Therefore it is impossible that he keep his promise. Therefore... I don't think that's the danger at all. What's the matter with you? Weren't you listening? Of course I was. He wants to be a god. I wanted you to say it, Brutus. Because you are his friend. And he leans much. Hail. Hail, Brutus. Hail, Caesar. Long life to Caesar. Not so godlike as Caesar when he swims. Egypt has swelled him. They say Cleopatra. Yes. Look at him. Bald. Caesar who would be god. All slave. Take towel to me. The dust of continents is washed from me, Brutus. How well you swim. The Nile, Brutus. The Nile what exercises it provides. Oh, Caesar. Speak, Cassius. Speak. Your speech of this afternoon. What thought you of it? Interesting. And you, Brutus? Provocative. Oh. What did it provoke, Brutus? I asked myself how it would be where I friend to a god. It would be worthwhile, Brutus. I can tell you that. And I can tell you too, Cassius. The custom of naming new gods is only for the Greeks and Orientals. In Gaul, Cassius, I tame the torrent of a river. In Britain, the torrent of a people. In Egypt, the Queen's torrent. Tamed and changed. So what now is a custom that I cannot change it? Listen. Already there is talk that Caesar speaks, Cassius. Caesar speaks. In Egypt, the people bowed down to me and burned incense. Made sacrifice? In the Senate tomorrow, I shall propose the erection of a statue. And Mark Antony will lay upon my brow the laurel reed. He approaches Caesar. Oh. Your poet. Sinner. Sinner. Sinner friend of my heart. Rise, rise, Sinner, so that I may embrace thee. Dear Sinner. Oh, I've missed you these months. Your sweet words. Caesar, divine Caesar. What catastrophe would be Rome's if suddenly there were no more laws but divine commandments? It must not happen. He is your friend. Rome is my life. Brutus. Yes. There are others who speak as we do. Who? Casca, Tillius, and those who are alone. How do they speak? Of the death of Caesar. Are you with us Brutus? I have said it. Rome is my life. Therefore death to Caesar. Death to the tyrant Caesar. And while this kind of unkindly talk was going on about him, Caesar was on the hot rocks listening to what Sinner the poet had written for him. And liking it. Sinner, Sinner, Sinner. Saturday afternoon in the Roman Baz. A refresher paragraph on ancient Rome. It may come as a shock to some, but I must tell you that the primitive city of Rome was not in the Tiber Valley at all, but on the ridges surrounding it. It was not until the empire flourished that Rome spread out to take up all of the compass marshes that hugged the bend of the road. It was not until the empire flourished that Rome spread out to take up all of the compass marshes that hugged the bend of the road. It was not until the empire flourished that Rome spread out to take up all of the compass marshes that hugged the bend of the river opposite the Vatican hill. The streets weren't paved until about the 2nd century B.C. The first paved street ran down the capital line hill to Casa Hecate, a popular pathway that it was, and so it remains to this day. Since the city depended on wells and springs for its water supply, aqueducts were put in at an early date. And with the most important plumbing down, you've heard so much about. Yes, the Romans were there to stay. Hail, Flavius! Hey, Luca. Have a fig. Well, thanks. Well, from Smyrna. Smyrna of the north, that is why they are so skinny. Well, I've heard our Caesar eats no skinny figs. You seem troubled. Troublest times. The stomach again, Luca? It hurts when I place palm of hand to it so, and press it. But then press not? Then I could not tell whether it hurt. True, true. But more vexing is my trouble. Caesar? My wife disagrees with me. The function of a wife? She thinks Caesar is a god. Yeah, my wife also, my eldest daughter and my son. My children taught too of the new god who walks the Roman streets and sits in the Roman senate and who wears the laurel crown. And they call Caesar god. Troublest times. Troublest times could become not troublest. How? Except Caesar as god. Foolishness. Is it? How say you? I've done much thinking. Since Alexander the Greek, there's been no such mortal as Caesar. A singular human Caesar. Therefore perhaps no human. Therefore perhaps a god. Therefore... This is your wife speaking through your mouth. With logic. There are rumors. What rumors? That a statue is to be erected to Caesar while he lives and sacrifices to be brought to it. Then Caesar will enter the realm, Flavius. He will be a god. I believe it better that we accept the fact. Perhaps it will be fruitful for all of us if we have a god in our midst. As it has not been fruitful in spite of the promises Caesar has made. As a mortal. It is to ponder. In truth, it is to ponder. Have another fig. Countrymen, beloved subjects. I behold here the statue. Well up the tears in my eyes. Shiver thou my body. Befumble my soul. And yet I cannot. For within me is a flame. And a voice in the flame. A voice that speaks and says. This is your statue, Caesar. Which they have built for you. Accept it, Caesar. Divine Caesar. Hear me, my people. Divine Caesar. Descended from the gods. And himself. Descended from the gods. And himself. Quite a phenomenon. Hundreds of thousands of birds. Suddenly appearing in the forum. At the precise instant when Caesar was proclaiming himself a god. And they hovered. And they shrieked. And they beat their wings. And Caesar could not make himself heard. And the people ran from that place because they knew it was an omen. Descend themselves a god. But there was no one to hear him. For all the people had fled from that place. For they knew it was an omen. Caesar. Take my hand, Caesar. For I am blind. For I will take you to a place so that you may wonder. This is where we walk. A place of darkness, Caesar. No. It is bright with sunlight. Dark? For I am blind. Lead me. Lead me. Caesar. Yes. What else besides sunlight do you see? There. A soldier. Yes. Where the corridor brightens. Where it darkens. Phantom. Phantom, why do you laugh? Lead me to the soldier, Caesar. And what does the soldier hold in his hand? A flame. And now what does he hold? Nothing. The flame has destroyed itself. And yet. Yet where the soldier has held it. No scar. No seer. No burn. An omen, Caesar. You're passing. You're death. No. No will you leave a mark of flame you are and quickly will you die. No. Your death, Caesar. No. No. Caesar. Caesar, wake. No. No. What nightmare are you having? No. No. Wake. Wake, Caesar. No. No. Burnier. Wife. What nightmare did you have? Of death. Of my own death. I dreamed it also. Last night. That I held you in my arms and you were slain. How? With knives. The knives of home. Friends to you. What was that? What voice? Beware. An outside voice. Listen to what he says. Oh, Caesar. Beware. The. Slave. Slave. Outside there is one who cried that Caesar should beware the I to march. Bring him to me. Go. My husband and Caesar, we march. That voice, the voice of dread. I know it. I know it well. How could you know it? Woman, I know it well. I know it. Oh, it is the voice of my troubled dreams. A voice that said to me, I would die. But you're imagining. That said to me, I would die. And your dream and the birds and the forum. And now. And now. Voice. Voice of my dreams. Dread voice. Who are you? What are you that you say, Caesar, beware the I to march? I am a soothsayer. And why do you shout beneath my window? Oh, Caesar. Beware the I to march. Why? Why? Beware tomorrow, Caesar. For the poor tense say that tomorrow the I to march. Is your death. Laugh not, Caesar, but mourn for your passing. I laugh because it is a huge joke I play upon myself. In truth, the voice of this soothsayer is similar to the voice of my dreams and the face, if there is a difference. The eyes of the man in my dreams were sightless. I am blind, Caesar. For God's will it and their brother. You remember the year of 44 B.C., the day of the 15th of March, the scene of the Roman Senate. I would like to read to you from Plutarch's lives. When Caesar entered, the Senate stood up to show their respect to him. And of Brutus' confederates, some came about his chair and stood behind it. How pale today my Caesar. What petition have you, Brutus? Caesar's brother is in exile. I will not grant it. Whereupon Tilius lay hold of Caesar's robe and with both hands pulled it down from his neck. Which was the signal for the assault. Casca gave him the first cut in the neck. Why, Casca? What does this mean? But Casca did not answer. Those who came prepared for the business and closed Caesar on every side with their naked daggers in their hands. However way he turned, he met with blows and was encompassed like a wild beast on every side. And Brutus was the last. You do, Brutus. Die, Caesar. And gave him one stab. Caesar is dead. Citizens, Romans, listen. Caesar is dead. End to tyranny. End to a desperate. Caesar is dead. It must be true, Flavius. Else the noble Brutus would not say it. Well... It just goes to show. Show what? You can have ambition. Don't let it run away with you. My son Cascio wants to be a senator. I'm trying to tell him to be content. Got a nice business he can step into. Well, you know how kids are. I can hardly believe it. What? Caesar dead. Why not? You think he was a guard or something? Well... I'll give my love to the family. The sons. 23 stab wounds were counted. Speeches were made and Caesar was cremated. The next day, official decree by the Senate elevated him to the rank of a god. There was a celebration that lasted for 23 days. And all the Romans agreed it was one of the finest celebrations on record. They danced around his statue a lot and decked it with flowers. And a god couldn't expect much more than that. In just a moment, Thomas Highland will tell you about next week's crime classic. Caesar, tonight's crime classic, was adapted from Accounts of the Times by Morton Fine and David Friedkin. The music was composed and conducted by Bernard Herman, and the program is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. Thomas Highland is portrayed on radio by Lou Merrill. In tonight's story, Edgar Berrier was heard as Caesar. Featured in the cast were High Everback, Lou Krugman, Irene Tedro, Betty Harford, Marvin Miller, and Harry Bartel. Bob LeMond speaking. Here again is Thomas Highland. Next week, a field in France during the reign of Louis-Napoleon. We will concern ourselves at that time with a missing family and several freshly opened graves. It's listed in my files as Jean-Baptiste Troppmann, killer of many. Thank you. Good night. Forward on Liberty's Team. That's the 1954 slogan of the Boy Scouts of America, 3,300,000 strong who celebrate their 44th birthday this week. Behind that slogan is a great team of Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, explorers, and adult leaders, organized in 89,000 units through the country, its territories, and wherever Americans live abroad. To them, to all of them, a salute from CBS Radio and its affiliates. Congratulations and happy birthday. Keep up the good work. Everybody loves Junior Miss Thursday nights on the CBS Radio Network.