 And now, tonight's presentation of Radio's outstanding Theatre of Thrill's Suspense. Tonight, the story of a supermarket and a young man who finds that after closing time, once the daily bustle is still, this very ordinary store becomes a place of danger and terror absolute. So now, with high ever back as Harry, here is tonight's suspense play, Never Steal a Butcher's Wife. It started the first day of the job. I was clerking the liquor department of the supermarket. I haven't been to Los Angeles a week. My brother, when I left New York, had given me this letter to a friend of his, a guy who owned a string of these supermarkets. The letter was about could he use me? I was a good fella, he could count it a favor, you know. And a guy had this opening, liquor clerk. And comes the following Monday, I'm at work. I spent the morning loading the refrigerators with beer, soda water, all that stuff, and sizing up the place. You know, back east, we don't have many of these supermarkets. There was the vegetable department run by a nice little dark guy, and there was a delicatessen that was run by an old geezer and his frow. There was a bakery department and meat department, and of course the groceries. No clerks. You pushed a little cart around and helped yourself. To get out, you passed the cash register, and the girl loaded your stuff and rang up the price. My surveillance of the place had reached the girl who checked the groceries when the troubles started. She was looking at herself in a little mirror and putting on some lipstick. Her back was to me. I see you stopped putting on the lipstick, but still looking at the mirror. I see your eyes in the mirror. And then she turns around very slowly and looks at me. Just looks at me. She must have been 50 feet away at the least and with customers between us. But it was like we were all alone. The two of us on a beach somewhere. An empty beach. I should have looked away. I should have winked and forgotten it. I should have gone on stacking beer and thinking about how to be a success. That's what I should have done. What I did do was I stood right there and locked eyes with her for I don't know how long. And all the time I was looking at her, I was sending her mental telegrams. You and me, baby. You and me. Hey, what's the matter, asleep on your feet? What'd you say? You had a new guy, huh? Yeah, I just started this morning. I'm Nick Arno, I work the vegetables. Harry Carr, pleased to know you. Yeah. Get two bottles of cold beer. Sure. Cold is a witch's heart. Only don't open them here by the counter, you know, the law. I have my pack with my lunch. Nick. What? Come here. Gal over there by the cash register. Mary? Is that her name, Mary? Yeah. What about her? That's what I'm wondering. What about her? Oh, she knows herself. She's married. You kidding? You see that big guy over there with the knife? The butcher? Yeah. You ask him if I'm kidding. Who's he? Her husband. Oh. See. I looked over at him. He was a funny looking guy. A real creep. He stood there sharpening a tremendous big cleaver whistling to himself. He had on a hard straw hat and a white apron. He had those rimless glasses with thick lenses so that his eyes looked like baseballs. When he saw I was looking at him, he nodded and went on whistling and stropping. A real creep. Later on I watched him softening up some sort of stakes. He had a big steel mallet with points on it and he was wanging away at this meat like a pile driver. And I watched him grinding and slicing and quartering, sawing the bones off some of the cuts and always those eyes like baseballs and that teeny little mouth lost in the big red face whistling. And I looked over at her and she was giving me the eye again. We closed at seven. The vegetable guys carted out the old stuff. The man put away his pickles. I checked the register, counted my slips and made my entries. Kraus, the butcher was still there packing and cleaning, putting stuff in that big refrigerator room back at the counter. But she had left. I got into my street coat and walked out. She was standing looking at the shoe display a couple of doors down from the market. I said hello. Don't you say hello wherever it is you come from? Well sure. Hello. You taking the bus? Yeah. Which way do you go? Down to Western. Oh, I'm going that way. I'll drive you. No, no. I don't think you'd better. What's the matter? I wouldn't want to trouble you. No trouble. I'm parked right here. What about Mr. Kraus? Oh, he'll be there an hour yet. He takes the bus. Oh. Come on. Well, come on. Don't be afraid. You're afraid of me. No, I'm not afraid of you. Well, then get in. It's all day long. I'm pushing liquor at them. Now they're pushing it at me. You're cute, Harry. No, I mean it. You're cute. Hell, it's so you, baby. You really think so? Sure, baby. Harry. Let's get out of here. Got someplace else? Hey, I got a work in the morning. Silly. This is the morning. It is. Hey, Mark, what's the time? Quarter or two. You really think I'm cute, Harry? Sure, baby. But it's late. It's way late. Don't worry, sugar. Come on. I'll take you home. Uh-uh. I'll take you home. Of course I felt lousy the next morning. I'm not much of a drinker. But she looked fresh as a daisy, smiling and joking with her customers. I didn't look over there. I didn't want to. I didn't want to think about what must have gone on between her and Kraus when she got in. He didn't look happy. I knew why. I kept waiting for him to turn those baseball eyes on me. But he never did. He was not smashing, slicing, grinding, sawing, all that. When I came out that night, she was there. I tried to disregard her. But she said she had something very serious to talk over. And the way she said it, well, I got in the car again. He's awful. Really, you don't know. Yeah, I guess it's tough. You just wouldn't believe some of the things. He's crazy jealous. Of you? Well, I guess maybe... Jealous of me. Or should I say, of you. Me? What does he know about me? What did you say? Well, I got in this morning and there he was, sitting up like Graham in his bathroom. He said, where have you been? And I said, what's it to you, Andy? I call him Andy and drive him crazy. He said, don't you think you can fool me? And then he started to cry and say a lot of things about Babylon and sitting on the water with a little crazy talk. I... Well, I better go. Don't be silly. He doesn't know who you are or who it is. But he could find out. Not unless I told him. You wouldn't do that. Of course not, baby. As long as you're good to me. The next night, I stayed in the market. I was scared. Didn't want any more of that. I did inventory. I counted bottles. I cleaned the refrigerator. I changed the water in the soft drinks cooler. I kept busy. Across the market, Kross was moving around, and after a while, he took off his apron and his straw hat and came over. Hello, Mr. Kross. Give me a bottle of beer. Sure thing. We're closed, aren't we? Here's an opening. Thank you. You're working late. Well, you know how it is. Nothing to do evenings. No? I'm new out here. It takes time to make friends. For me, maybe. Not for you. Good-looking young fellow like you. I don't know. You're a big broad-shouldered guy. Yeah, sure. Big. How's the beer? Listen, you know my wife. Your wife? Yeah. You know her. Isn't she the one who checks the groceries? Yeah. Very nice-looking lady. You think so? Well, I mean... Don't get me wrong. I mean it very sincerely. A very nice, respectable looking... Yeah, sure. Not this. You'll notice something funny goes on there. Funny? Somebody is playing around with her. I want to find out who. With her? He wouldn't believe that would you? No, no. No, I should say no. Listen, do me a favor, huh? Sure. What? You keep your eyes open. I find out who he is if it takes a year. Then I do. I kill him. Good night. Good night. He's the debonair lawyer detective whose exciting cases come your way Monday through Friday day times on most of these stations. This week, listen to Perry Mason try to help a damsel in distress. And now, we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage, High Everback, in tonight's production of Never Steal a Butcher's Wife. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. You see how it happens? You go along, minding your own business, trying to be a sweet guy and whammy. Up pops the devil, the root caves in, and there you are. The execution is honing the axe and whistling to himself. I tell you, I was nervous. My hands were sweating and my teeth were aching. If it hadn't been for needing the job bad, if it hadn't been for that, I'd have put on my coat and hightailed it out of there but fast. It was a situation. You see, you didn't understand what I told you the other day. What's that, Nick? About Mary. I told you she was a married woman. What are you talking about? I seen you, the both of you, coming out of a bar the other morning. You're nuts. Don't pull a hard face with me, Harry. I ought to tip cross-off to what's going on. Nick, Nick, Nick, you're not going to do it. You're not going to do it. I'm going to tip cross-off to what's going on. Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick. Good guy, will you? Yeah, good guy. I'm telling you, you better be a good guy and leave the butcher's wife alone if you know what's good for you. I will, Nick. I will. I swear it was a mistake. That's all. So be a good guy. Nick, forget about it, huh? This one's okay, but you do it again. You get what's coming here. Sure, Nick. Sure thing. I'm not just talking. Blow, will you blow? Don't you know your husband is watching you? Always got his glasses off. He couldn't see Hollywood Bowl. You better be nice to me, Harry. Please, Mary, please. Go back to your cash register. Okay. I want to see you tonight. No. Oh, yes. Look, understand me, baby. You're poison. I'll get away. You'll see me, Harry. I don't want... All right. Where? I'll be parked around the corner. Around the corner. And don't be late. I'll get in. Look, can't you understand? I don't want any trouble. What are you so afraid of? Trouble. Oh, come on, baby. Let's go have some fun. Look, please, I've asked you not... What is it? Hello. I warned you. You got it wrong, Nick. Oh, no. What is all this? You shut up. Don't you talk to me like that. I was looking down his nose at me, and he was a nice, wide-open target, but I didn't hit him. Because all of a sudden, I knew what I had to do. And I knew I had to do it fast. I didn't turn. Nick was still back there beside the car. I went into the market. Mr. Cross. I... I found out. I said I found out. I found out who it is. Yeah. Look, Mr. Cross, I knew yesterday, but I didn't want to get him in trouble. He said if I opened my mouth, he'd tell you it was me that I was the one. Vegetable man. I'm sorry, Mr. Cross. I never did like him. I never did. Well... Good night. Vegetable man. I took a fifth of old smuggler home with me. No dinner. I just lay there on the bed about three hours, talking to myself. And finally, the heck with the job. I got up and I started to pack. I was broke, but I didn't care. I'd have to skip out on my rent, but it didn't matter. I didn't care. I wanted out, from Cross, from Mary, from Nick. And suddenly, I figured that even if Nick was a snooping little rat with his hole ear now, I ought to clear him. So I wrote a note to Cross. I said, I did it, Cross, don't blame anybody else. I took the note in my bag and the key to the market. And I tiptoed out of the roaming house. I caught a bus and went to the market. The boulevard was deserted. I looked in through the glass door. In the back of the place up high, there was a red neon beer sign that blinked on and off. On and off. I unlocked the door, went in, locked the door behind me. The place was eerie in the dark, what with that red light blinking on and off. It was a thousand little red lights bouncing off the canned stuff in the grocery cart. I went to the butcher counter first and I laid the note on the scale where he'd be sure to see it. Then I crossed over past the vegetables and the bakery, past the delicatessen to the liquor department. It was dark and I kept bumping into things and I thought, why am I acting like a criminal? I turned on the light. The whole place was suddenly dazzling. It hurt my eyes. I was just thinking about maybe taking a couple of bucks when it happened. I hadn't touched it. Somebody had turned the lights off again. There were other switches in the place I didn't know where. And after the brightness, the place seemed twice as dark. The red sign blinked on and off and on and off. And then I saw him. Cross! He was standing behind the meat counter at the scale and he picked up the note. My note! I did it, Cross! And he read it. I couldn't see his eyes. Just the glasses. And every time the light blinked, they showed red, bright red. Like some sort of terrible toy. And then he began to move. And it was like a movie that you see one frame at a time. Each time the light blinked on, he wasn't where he'd been before. But closer. Closer! Mr. Kraus! Oh, no. No. No, Mr. Kraus! Those red glasses kept coming at me. I edged toward the vegetables and he moved too. I moved the other way toward the groceries. There was a railing. I climbed over it and I was in one of the long narrow aisles of cans and bottles. The stuff was piled head high. I waited, hoping maybe he didn't see me. But he did. I hid behind a tower of dog food boxes. He sounded 30 or 40 feet away. I waited. I looked around the corner. He was looking down another aisle. I ducked my head back. I couldn't understand that sound. I looked again. The aisle was empty. In the center where Kraus had stood were his shoes. He'd taken them off. Very quietly, I bent and took mine with two. I began to tiptoe away from where I'd seen him. Then I rounded the corner. There he was, not two feet away with his back to me. I lost my balance and I put my hand out to steady myself. The whole display went over. I ran. I ran. Then I was at the end of an aisle. There was the wall. The back wall. I turned and he was coming. Coming straight at me. My hand touched something cold. A bottle. I grabbed it. It was ammonia. Kraus! Kraus, get back! Kraus, or I'll blind you. Kraus, I warn you, I swear I will. Kraus, I've got ammonia here. I'll blind you. If you come any closer, Kra... Crazy blind giant, tearing at his eyes. The ammonia running down his face. I didn't wait. I ran past him. I ran and ran and cut around the cash register and passed the delicatessen and the bakery to the door. It was locked. The key I'd left it in the locker, it was gone. I tried to break the glass with my fist, but it was like steel. I tried to kick it, but I left my shoes behind. And Kraus kept coming. Feeling his way along. Moaning, silhouetted in the blinking light. The red light that gleamed like a tongue of fire on the knife he held in his hand. I was behind the counter of the meat department. Under my feet, the sawdust. I vent, scooped up a hand for him. His face was awful, twisted and gleaming in the blinking red light. His glasses were gone and his eyes were screwed tight, shut in pain. He stopped ten feet away, swaying. Then he opened his eyes, opened them as wide as he could and moved his head from side to side trying near sightedly to see me. And then his head stopped moving and holding it sideways using one eye to see me. He came on, the knife held way back. And I waited. And I let fly with a sawdust and jumped to one side, my back against the wall and he pushed it and skidded in the sawdust and he fell. And then, he was very still for a moment. I waited. Backing. He rose to his knees. In the blinking light, I saw the knife. He'd fallen on it. It was sticking out of the middle of his chest. Crows! Then, very slowly, he got to his feet. One hand over the place where the knife was and then he started toward me again. There was a rack over the chopping block. He reached up and got a cleaver. I backed. Behind me, I felt a large, cold handle. The door to the meat storage room. I heaped that open. Inside, it was cold. Bitter cold. And dark. In the center of the door was one small, thick pane of glass. It was clouded. I wiped it clear with my hand and looked out. Crows stood there. His face an inch from mine, looking in. And then his eyes rolled back and his face went slack and he fell out of sight. He was dead. I was sure of it. Now I felt around in the dark for the now, but I couldn't find it. I felt the door from top to the bottom. There were bars and bolts and something that felt like a handle, but it wouldn't move. I mean, I heaved and tugged, but it wouldn't move. There was a knife on a slab there, a butcher knife. I felt around the door for a crack, slipped the knife in and twisted another door, I thought. Maybe there's please another door out of this place. And I began to search for it in the dark, feeling along the icy, damp walls. I walked under something cold and moved when I touched it. Side of beef. But no door. I moved farther. Another icy cold thing. And I moved on. Came up against another. Cold as the rest. And I moved on. Cold as the rest. But I'm crazy. I know it. I'm crazy. This one. This one feels as though it's wearing silk stockings. So here I am. It's awfully cold. Cold as a witch's heart. Cold as a tomb. This thing I have in my hand, this knife handle, I wish it had a blade. I know what I'd do. I know. But it hasn't. Anyway, I'm innocent of anything. They'll believe me. They will. There's a letter outside on the scale that says, I did it, Kraus. Don't blame anybody else. And as my silk case, that'll prove I meant to go away and not to cause anybody a hard time. And there's... Oh, the time goes slow. And while I'm waiting, and waiting and waiting, I'll tell myself the whole story again. And again. Again. It'll give me something to do, you know. Something to think about. You see, it started the first day of the job. I was clerking the liquor department of the supermarket. I hadn't been to Los Angeles a week. My brother, when I'd left to New York, had given me this letter to a friend of his, a guy who owns a string of these supermarkets. The letter was apart. Could he use me? I was a good fellow. Suspense. In which high ever back starred as Harry in James Poe's story, Never Steal a Butcher's Wife. Enjoy tonight's Tale of Suspense. Well, there's a different kind of suspense on CBS Radio's Monday through Friday daytime serial, The Brighter Day. This week, Reverend Dennis and his family are the targets of a vindictive plot. Find out what happens. Listen to The Brighter Day tomorrow and every weekday Suspense is produced and directed by Norman McDonnell, with music composed by Lucian Morrowick and conducted by Lud Bluskin. Never Steal a Butcher's Wife was written for Suspense by James Poe and starred high ever back as Harry, featured in the cast with Paula Winslow, Jack Kruschen and Lawrence Dobkin. They tuned now for yours truly, Johnny Dollar, which follows immediately over most of these same stations. Listen while you work. Enjoy Hilltop House every Monday through Friday in the daytime on the CBS Radio Network.