 Inner Sanctum Mysteries Good evening, friend. This is yours to welcome you through the creaking door into the Inner Sanctum. Come here. See, how about joining our Shriek of the Month Club? We're offering free a shroud-bound copy of Die Alone and Like It. We're about an unsuccessful author who dies of marital illness. Yes, her husband got sick of her. However, he was thoughtful enough to bury his novelist wife in the basement. Now at last, she's in the best cellar class. And now for tonight's gruesome little item. Oh, you better not disturb that fellow in the corner. He's our ghost of honor tonight, poor guy. He died last night for lack of sleep. Now he's in for a way. Meet John Thompson, age 29, driving a blue coupé across the George Washington Bridge, heading west. It's kind of a close night. Keep Lightning is dancing up in the sky when I come down off the bridge into Jersey. Running a mobile gas station isn't bad when things are breaking right. But the way things are, I figure I'll do better out of the way. I hit the highway and let her out of it. I spot her a few miles past the bridge. She's standing there by the side of the road, out in the middle of nothing. I don't know exactly why, but I stopped. Want to lift? Thanks. Now hop in. Going far? Not very. Well, yeah, when you want me to leave you off, huh? My name's Thompson. John Thompson. Hello, Johnny. Yeah, hello. What's your name? Anne. Where in particular are you heading for? I don't know, but... I'll know when we get there. Yeah, sure. Look, this ain't the old routine, but you look like I kind of know you for some place. Do I? I don't remember from where or when, but your face. Oh, maybe it just reminds me of somebody I used to know, down anymore. Maybe. You don't remember me, huh? Should I, Johnny? Well, it would be kind of more sociable. I'll try, Johnny. We go on like that for a couple of three miles. Her not saying anything and me sneaking looks at her. She's pretty young and nice to have next to you, but there's this feeling that I don't know her and don't. And I get to wondering where she's going in the middle of the night. Anne. Yes, Johnny. Maybe we can get some music. The knob for turning on the radio is over on your side. See it? All right. I got these all night programs with people like us, you know, driving at night or jockeying a truck or sitting up with a sick friend. Our next request number just found in this minute by a young lady named Anne. Well, we can't make out your last name, Anne, but anyway, Lou's going right ahead and playing for you. Lou at the piano, playing Stardust. He plays a nice piano, huh? Very nice. Kind of funnier. A girl with the same name as yours just phoning in to the show and we started listening to her. I mean, with the same first name. Is it? Yeah, well, I guess it's quite so. I like Stardust. Maybe you better try another station. Why? I like Stardust. Yeah, but get another station. I'm happy with this one. Get another station or turn the set off. I don't care which. Do what I'm telling you. Why? Don't ask me why. I can't take that music. It bothers me. Are we please? No. I said, would you please turn it off? No. Look, it's my car. It's my radio. I want you to... Oh, never mind. I'll turn it off myself. You better watch the road. You might have an accident. I'll turn it off myself and I'll let go of my hand. No, I don't want you to turn it off. Let go. I gotta keep my other hand on the wheel. I won't let go. I want you to listen to Stardust. I like it. But I don't. I'm warning you. Very pretty. All right. This is what you wanted. So you're gonna turn it off. Clear. Let go of the wheel. You wouldn't listen to me now. Now it's too late. I was streaked with light through the blacks. I shook my head. I was conscious again. I'd slid forward under the wheel and the car hit the tree. Pulled myself up. Get out of the car. It wasn't damaged bad. Bumper taken most of the shock when we hit. One fender was crumpled. And I remembered. And who was dead I knew. I'd felt her neck give before we crashed. I swallowed hard for a couple of seconds and went back to the car. But then... She wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere near the car. She hadn't been thrown clear. She must be dead. Still she wasn't there. Not anywhere. I drove away. Fast. My head don't feel so good. But I stopped thinking as I go through the night. I do puzzles and arithmetic. Multiplication. 49 times 76. 102 times 27. So I won't think. Not thinking isn't easy when you're alone. So when I see a diner, I think that's for me. And I stop and get out. I walk over to the diner. The air's still heavy and the cricket's a raging chain. I go in. I'll be in my... Oh, java and a hamburger. Sure. Coming up. It's a hot night, ain't it? Oh, I didn't notice you're sitting next to me. Yeah, it's plenty hot. You're driving a nice car. I notice you're pulling in. That's all right. Yeah, it looks good. Hey, Joe, I was wondering. You going far? Far enough. Yeah, that's what I was thinking. West. Uh-huh. How about me riding with you for a bit? My feet are getting awful tired holding me up. Oh, sure, I guess so. Oh, thanks. Thanks a lot. Yeah, I could use a bit of company position. Hey. So you dropped your coffee. I'm sorry to get any of it on you. I miss, but your hands are trembling. Well, I'm tired. Come on, let's get out of here. Hey, that'll take care of my check. Well, hey, you ain't finished your hamburger. I'm not hungry. Well, you mind if I work it over? No, of course not, only let's get out of here. Sure is a dark night. Hurry up, will you? Yeah. Dark enough to hide a corpse in. What did you mean back there by dark enough to hide a corpse in? Nothing. Just an expression. Why? Well, it seemed like a funny thing to say. I don't think so. Hey, hey, you better slow down. We're going through a town. That deserted this hour of night. No, it ain't. Look at that, down near the corner. What? You seen her, huh? Standing under that lamppost, pretty as a picture, ain't she? Hey, slow down, will you? Maybe she wants a lift. You're crazy. Well, look, she's giving us the thumb. We're going to pass her in a minute. Don't bother me. Yeah, but... Hey, hey, she's calling you. She knows you. You can't pass up a girl like that. Will you shut up? I don't get it. You was willing to give a hobo like me a lift and you don't even know me. You know that girl. She's not there. She can't be. Well, you've seen her. No. You look where I was pointing. You heard her. No. All right. Yes, I did. But she's not real. She couldn't be. Why? She's dead. Yeah, how do you know? Because I saw her die. Yeah? Yeah. In an accident. A hundred miles from here. Well, and what was she doing under that lamp? I don't know, man. Maybe it was a ghost. Maybe I'm going crazy. I've seen her. Maybe you're dead, too. And the ghost's riding with me. Look at you. Chips of an old block of ice. Blitters from the petrified forest. Or are you always that way? Hmm? Oh, you're not really frightened. Just pretending, huh? Well, I suppose you climbed down off that chandelier and listened to the rest of the story about John Thompson, who took a girl for a boogie ride. John and the bum he'd picked up rode on for a while in Thailand. The night was closer and heavier. And John was tired. Hey, hey, watch it, will ya? Oh, sorry. Close my eyes for a second. Well, you better keep them open. It's healthier. Yeah. I'm kind of pooped. It's been a long night. That chatter about ghosts. Yeah? How come? Oh, I was kidding. You were, huh? It wouldn't be because... How would you like to get out? I'd like it fine. I get nervous riding with a guy who turns green when you mention corpses. Hey, hey, watch that bridge! You nearly dunked us in that stream. I can't keep my eyes open. What if I wash my face, bathe my eyes with cold water? Yeah, that's an idea. You can stay in the car. I'll be a couple of seconds. I'll go along. I, uh, I could use a drink. Looks good. Dark, peaceful. You know, you could sleep in water like that. Yeah, sure, but you wouldn't wake up. Go on, wash. Huh? Oh, yeah. Too slow. Sure. Cold? It's good. Uh-huh. Good for what ills ya. But what does add you, mister? Nothing. I'm tired. It's all getting sleepy. I'm better now. Okay. Well, let's get back to the car. I'm walking the rest of the way. What? Yeah, I want to get there. There's nothing wrong with my driving? I didn't say there was, mister. But are you sure there ain't something wrong with you? All right. Walk. I don't need anybody to ride with me. No, mister. You already got somebody or something riding with ya. So I walk back to the car and get in. And I'll pay no attention to the old bum said. Nothing wrong with me? Nothing. Start the car and drive off. Down the highway into the darkness. It's a long night. Maybe the longest night I ever lived. But it's only night someplace. West of New York. And that's all. A storm hanging overhead. Never breaking. That's all. Hello, Johnny. It's her. Sitting right next to me. When she saw me looking at her, she... She smiled. Hello, Johnny. Oh, oh. I... I didn't expect to see you again. No, Johnny. I left you so far behind. Not so far behind. Yeah, but I guess you must have got a list on some other car, faster car than mine. That's how you got ahead of me. We're ahead of you, Johnny. That's the way it works. Sure. You're... You're... You're all right, though. I'm all right. Very all right. Oh, I'm glad to hear that. I mean, funny, isn't it? The rain's still holding off. You're not going to swan at a port hours ago. Why are you talking so much, Johnny? Because... Because I'm afraid of it. When will we get there, Johnny? Get where? Where you're going. I don't know. Why? Because I'm going there with you. Oh. And... That's... Back again. That song's back again. I don't have to take it. I can't take it. If you haven't seen that song, I told her I didn't like it. I'm not going to tell her again. I won't do any good. This time I'm going to play it smart and sure. She's looking straight ahead, watching the roads slide under the headlights. So I choked the car. Hey! What is it, Johnny? Motor. Well... There's something wrong. Oh. Yeah, I better get out and see. I'll wait here. Sure. Get the hood up. And... Yes? I can fix it, but... Will you bring me the wrench? Where is it? In the dashboard compartment. All right. I thought it's Johnny. Well, will you bring it to me? Here it is, Johnny. Thanks. Now all I have to do is... Hey. Hmm? What's that behind you? Where? Well, turn around. You'll see. All right. So she turns her back to me. Looks down the road we came. And I lift the heavy wrench. And I... No! This time I made sure. She's dead. Lying on the road. But I still got to make sure she won't... Even dead be riding with me again. So I... I lift her up. Put her back in the car. Get in myself next door. And start the car up. I remember the stream. Not much of a stream, but... Deep enough for a thin girl, the lion. And that's where I go. It don't take long to get back to the stream. The bridge over. Which is where I stop. Nobody around. Only the darkness and the water flowing underneath. Where Anne is going to lie. But before I let her go... I dig out my tools. Tire iron, wrenches, the jack, heavy stuff. Tie them to her. So she'll lie quiet under the water. And I get done. She's heavy now. Heavy than she ever was before. But I lift her over the rail. Hold her for a second in my arms. And then I let her go. Quick. Not off the loud. Into the water. Drops to the bottom of the stream. Where maybe... Maybe it'll be soft and cool for her. I gotta get away from here fast. Fast! Every time the wheel turns around. Every time the valve's open and closed. Every time the sparks fire. I'm getting further away from her. This time she isn't going to follow me. This time she's deep under the water. With iron tied to her. Her head bashed in. She'll never turn around again. And find her sitting next to me. I'd never hear her calling Johnny again. I'd never see her eyes or a thin body again. Clouds are pressing down now. No more moon. Thunder's purring closer like a big cat. I don't care. I'm through with her forever now. I'm so happy I could sing. La-la-la-la-la-la-la. Oh. Oh no. The light is turning off on on like God's neon sign. The thunder's pounding in my head. I go faster. It occurred. Take it at 60. It's standing there. Lifted by the light and it's... Gas pedal's down to the floor. The motor's roaring like a hundred horses screaming. We're pulling up the hill with it. With the rain slanting against the wind. The pain like a million fingers tapping on my brain. At the top of the hill, by the wind, her wet dress plastered against her body. No. I can't... I can't take it much more. The car's sliding down the wet road like death on butter. She's there all the time now. Running with the car face plastered against the closed window next to my seat. Johnny. Anya, you're dead. Am I, Johnny? You're dead. I killed you. Don't you remember? No, Johnny. Back there, I hit you. I dropped you into the water. I hit you. You're dead. Am I, Johnny? No, not now. And please, please. I'm just tired, Johnny. Tired of running away. Isn't the road too long? The road away from me. Go away. Go away, Anne. No. You want to drive me mad? No, Johnny. Then what do you want? Just to go with you to the end of your road. But where's that? Why, maybe here. Maybe right here. In this town, Johnny. In this... Yeah. Small place, and I'm riding through it. The storm is dying out. Yeah, and the air is clear now. Fresh after the storm. Anne? No, she's gone. Now the thing is, where... Oh, right up ahead. They always have one. Yeah, green light shining over the door. They're always open. And there's always a sergeant half-sleeping in the chair behind the desk. Hello? Uh, no. What do you want? My name is John Thompson. All right, so your name is John Thompson, so what? If you check, I think you'll find that I'm wanted. Wanted? For what? For the murder of my wife, Anne Thompson. Huh? Hey, don't move. I've got you covered. I killed her in our apartment in New York City. Come on. Stick your hands out. When I killed her, the radio was on. They were playing Starter. How'd you like our new arrangement of Starters? We're billing it this week as tune number one of the murderer's hot parade. With, of course, a boogeyman beat on a new grave lane. All right, before I stop off for a little chat with John and that one-way death cell appears, let me give you a bit of homicidal advice. Never kill your wife with a radio on. Tune in later. Well, friends, it's time once again to close that creaking door. I'll hear next week at the same time when we'll be back with a little hunk of horror. You'll be sure to listen, won't you? Until next week then, good night. Pleasant dreams.