 Good evening, friends. This is your home to welcome you through the creaking door into the inner sanctum. That music you hear is a new little thing dedicated to us. A little number called Baby It's Cold Inside. That's because the characters around here are 20 degrees below normal. Oh speaking of characters, meet our pet ghoul, Gorgie Gorgie. He's straight away from us but he came back because, as Gorgie puts it, there's no place like long. Gorgie was a real successful ghoul, never let any grass grow under his feet. Of course he wasn't always a ghoul, he was quite undecided on a profession. When one day he passed a burial ground and right then and there, Gorgie took a turn for the pair. Tonight's Inner Sanctum Mystery, Image of Death, was written by Ed Adamson and Bob Sloan and stars Barry Kroger and the role of Victor with Gene Allen as Kitty. Before we begin, let me warn you, any similarity between the characters in tonight's tale and those in your nightmares is purely intentional. Okay friend, hang on to your nervous systems. The man stands in the dim-lit room, looking down at the motionless body on the floor. His large hands with the whip-clawed muscles are in startling contrast to his dim sensitive face. For another moment he stands there, staring vacantly. Then he walks to the telephone, dials the number and waits. I want to report a murder, you'll find the body at 14 crowns true. I'll be here waiting for you. Me? Right. I'm a man who's been dead five years. The police are on the way now. I sit here and I wait. And I think back over the five years. Back to the night that I, Victor Corday, died. I was in my studio working on the statue. There's a strange emotion that only a sculptor can feel. The acceleration of taking senseless stone and enduing it with life meaning. I was so overwhelmed with the feeling that night, I lost complete track of time and place. I had no idea my wife had come into the studio and was standing behind me. Victor, what? Evelyn, what are you doing up this time of night? I couldn't sleep, I was thinking. The money again? You know, we're almost down to rock bottom. Don't think I told you not to worry about it. I'm not worried anymore. The statue will be finished in a month or two. You don't have to wait until it's finished. What? It'll be so easy, so sure. What are you talking about? Your sister Clara. What's she got to do with it? Her insurance is made out to you. And Clara is a helpless and curable, invalid. Evelyn, I don't understand. How many times has she begged for death since the accident? How many times has she asked us to help her out of her misery? Evelyn, stop this. I've got it all planned. No one would ever find out. Stop it. Kill my sister? Make myself a murderer? She won't feel a thing. It'll be simple and quick. I won't listen to you anymore. You'll do it, Victor. Whether you want to or not. Evelyn, get away from that statue. This will make you do as I say. Oh, months of work. Destroyed. There'll be nothing coming in, Victor. Now you'll have to do exactly as I say. Victor, Victor. How could you do a thing like that? It'll feel good. Let's go, Victor. You're hurting me. Evelyn was limp in my arms. When I let go, she slumped to the floor. I stood over her, wondering what had happened. When I saw the ribbon of blood at my feet, and then the bloody wall hook against which I'd accidentally pushed her. I touched her. I spoke to her, but she was motionless and silent and dead. And that was the night that I died too. I didn't mean to kill Evelyn, but I knew no one would believe me. So I ran away, changed my name to Victor Kahn. I buried myself for five years. I became a gravestone cutter. I used these hands of mine for carving monuments to the dead. And for five years I hid, going nowhere, meeting no one. And then she came along. It was late one afternoon. I was in my shop near the cemetery, finishing work on a black marble headstone. Hello. Victor? I said hello. Who? Who are you? Oh, now don't tell me. Don't remember me. How do you know my name? I know a lot about you. I've been watching you for a long time. Watching me? Why? We could be friends, Victor. You need a friend. Will you please tell me who you are? Kitty Regan. You can just call me Kitty. I'm a waitress in a restaurant where you eat once in a while. Wouldn't you like me for a friend? What do you want, really? Oh, you shouldn't be afraid of me. I have no reason to be afraid of anybody. Oh, yes, you have. I can tell. I've watched you. When you're out of this shop, looking around like you were running away or waiting for somebody to catch you. You don't know what you're talking about. And you're always alone. Be afraid to make friends. You don't have to be afraid of me, Victor. Not as long as you give me the money. Why should I give you money? You don't have to. I can go to the police. I can always go to the police. And that's the way it began with Kitty. She couldn't have known what I'd done. She might have thought it was robbery or something like that. But she couldn't have known. It was murder. She drained me of every penny I'd made. But strangely enough, I didn't mind. I actually started to look forward to her visits. And then one day I realized why. Kitty Regan was cheap and low and evil. But I'd fallen in love with her. Well, how do you like that? He says he's in love with me. Don't laugh, Kitty. Please. I want to marry you. Marry me? Well, that's a riot. A crummy character like you. Where's my money? It hasn't been a very good week. I only had one job. Well, whatever it is, hand it over. Kitty, I want to show you how I feel about you. You already showed me. No. This will make you really understand. I'm going to make you a figurine in ivory to be very valuable. Oh, so you think you can make something that's worth a lot of money? You, a great stone cutter. I have talent in these hands of mine. Great talent as a sculptor. Oh, sure. Sure, you're a regular Michelangelo. Come on, hand the money over. All right. Well, I'm going to prove it, Kitty. I'm going to prove that I'm somebody you'd be proud to love. I realized the danger in making that ivory figurine for Kitty. You would have my stamp on it. But then Kitty couldn't possibly know its real value. I only did it to prove to her that I was something better than a gravestone cutter. A week after I'd given her the ivory figurine, I went to her apartment. Two half-packed releases were on the studio couch. What's the matter, Victor? What are you looking at? Those bags, Kitty. Where are you going? Oh, all that. I'm moving away from here. This crummy room is getting on my nerves. You're running away from me. Where'd you get that idea from? Kitty, don't ever run away. Because I'm following you wherever you go. I'm not running away. I just rented a new apartment on the other side of town in the Linda Park section. Linda Park? You've got to have money to live over there. Oh, I have some money. Where'd you get it? It's none of your business. Let me finish packing. Kitty, the figurine I made for you is not on the table. What? Where is it? Oh, look, Victor, don't get excited. Where is it? What have you done with it? I sold it. What? I sold it. What's so awful about that? You sold it? You sold my gift to you? I needed more money. You haven't been doing so well lately. And I figured the ivory was worth something. You shouldn't have done that. You bought it, said the carving was pretty good. Oh. You really got talent, Victor. You can become an important guard. Kitty, I don't care about that. I just want you. All right, Victor, then. Then you can have me. You mean that? You really mean that? Well, sure. Yes, as long as you do what I say. How many of those figurines can you make a month? I'll do that. Sure, sure you can, baby. You'll do it for me now, won't you? Kitty, you don't realize what it may mean. There may be death in it for both of us. You're a screwy sort of a guy, but do you know something? I'm beginning to like you. Are you? Really? Mm-hmm. You never kissed me, did you? I never kissed you. Welcome here. You'll do what I want, baby, won't you? Oh, Kitty, I'll do anything for you. I knew I shouldn't have done as she asked. But the will to live isn't always as strong as the will to love. I worked day and night until my hands became raw from the mallet and chisel and stone. As time went on, the chances for my own personal safety became less and less. I was working in my shop one night when my dead past came to life. Well, at last we meet, Miss Carlin. He was George Adrien, an art dealer from the West Coast whom I dealt with years ago. Adrien looked at me and sly, secret smile on his lips. So, uh, that's the name you use now, awfully close to Corday, isn't it? I don't know what you're talking about. Corday, I consider it an honor to renew our acquaintance. Now see here, I never saw you before in my life. Oh, stop it, you're just wasting time. You needn't be afraid. I'm not going to expose you. The fact that you murdered your wife is no affair of mine. Undoubtedly, she deserved it. How'd you find me, Adrien? Oh, it was quite by accident. A young woman named Kitty Regan sold me an ivory figurine of yours and then some more worth of yours later. All of it had the unmistakable stamp of Victor Corday on it. And what do you want? Frankly, I'm one to take advantage of a situation. Then it's money. Exactly. All right. How much? Quite a sum. It's much more than you're able to give me at present. Now being two reasonable men, I'm sure we can work out installments. Adrien had my life in his hands. I had only one defense against him. This latest piece of yours should bring you very good price. He stepped closer to examine the statue. My fingers tightened around the gouge in my hand. Five hundred dollars should be a reasonable amount for the first installment of his life. I stepped in behind him and drove the gouge home deep into his soul. I carried Adrien's body to the cemetery near my shop and buried it in a freshly dug grave. But I had no peace of mind. In a few days, death began to close in on me again. An art critic from a Chicago paper wanted to do an article on me and I couldn't refuse. Kitty kept egging him on and he insisted on seeing every bit of my work including the tombstones I'd made for the dead. The night we went to the cemetery, a heavy rain was falling. I shook with fear as we stopped at the grave where Adrien's body lay just a few inches underneath the surface and the rain kept pouring down, washing the dirt away. Well, this is an interesting piece, Mr. Carlin. It's not really one of my important works, Mr. Rogers, shall we go on? Oh, you mustn't be so modest. This sculpture would be worth a great deal to a gallery. It's pretty that it remains here unseen. Oh, Victor, maybe the owner would sell it back. No, Kitty. I wouldn't think of asking such a thing. I still have other pieces we can sell. Let's go back to the shop, shall we? What are you looking at, Mr. Rogers? The face on this figure. It's uncanny. What do you mean? It's much like the face of a figure I saw in Los Angeles some years ago. It was done by a man named Corday. You ever hear of it? Yes, I've heard of it. Your work is very much like his, especially the face on this figure. The face you see there is Kitty. Oh, still it might pass for the model Corday always used, his wife, Evelyn. You have a great future, Mr. Carlin. Thank you. Now, shall we go? Victor, can I speak to you for a minute? Don't mind me. I'll just walk ahead of this. What is it, Kitty? Why'd you lie to him? That's not my face. I never posed for you. I know that. There's some other woman, isn't there? No, there is. Now that you're making money, you'll spend it on another woman. That old sculptor's wife, Evelyn. You will be a fool. Because her husband killed her. You see what Roger's meant yesterday? You see what a great sculptor I really am, Kitty? Could be that Roger's is dead wrong about you. He knows Roger's is an expert. Expert, my eye. He isn't even an art critic. What? He's a phony. What are you talking about? Roger's. He doesn't work for Chicago paper. That's just a guess. Kitty, how do you know? Oh, I have ways of finding things out. How do you know? Oh, let's go with me, Victor. This is important to me. Let's go. I'll leave it. How did you find out? All right, I'll tell you. Pull up the paper he said he worked for. Yes? I got something invested in this thing, too, you know. And? And? They never heard of him. There's no reason for you to get all hot about it. Don't you understand, Kitty? If he isn't an art critic, why is he posing as one? I don't know. Well, I do know. Only I've got to make sure. What difference does it make? Probably just an agent trying to get a line on your work. An agent for home? The police? I never thought of that. Victor, I know you've been hiding for some reason. You're in some kind of trouble. What kind? Let me alone. Kitty. Yeah? Go back to your apartment. Stay there until I call. Why? What are you going to do? That's none of your business. You just stay there and wait. I may need you later on. I went to the hotel where Roger's was staying. Climbed down the fire escape to his window. I opened the window carefully. Went into the room. I could hear the water running in the shower. I quickly found out what I wanted to know. The identification was in his pocket. Frank Rogers, Los Angeles Police Department. Suddenly the door to the bath opened and Rogers was standing there in a robe. What are you doing here, Carlin? I knocked Mr. Rogers, but you didn't answer. So I just came on in. Oh, I guess I couldn't hear you from the shower. I, uh, thought I'd locked the door. No. The door was open. Well, I was sure I'd locked it. Well, however, it doesn't make any difference. You're here and that's the important thing. Isn't it? Cordy. Thanks for coming over and sending me the trouble. It's good you didn't try to run away. I'd have gotten you anyway. Quite wrong, Rogers. I have you. I found this gun in your pocket. Put it down, Cordy. You haven't a chance. The shot at this time of the night will bring everybody in a hotel here. Thank you for warning me. Killing me won't help you. I, uh, sent my report to headquarters. It'd be just a matter of time before they catch up with you. Maybe you're right. Sure, I... Cordy, I've already killed one man with this gouge. Put that down, Cordy. Stay where you are. I'll have to do this quietly, Rogers. You warned me. Cordy, don't! I left the hotel. A few blocks away, I went into a drug store and called Kitty. She didn't answer. I went to her apartment. She wasn't home. I waited in the park across the street. I waited and waited. And finally she came home. And with her was there was another man. I wanted to kill them both right then and there. But I was too stunned. I wandered around for hours. And then the thought came to me. I went back to my shop and worked. For the rest of the night I worked in a blind rage. Then this morning Kitty came to see me. Victor. Yes, Kitty? Victor, have you seen the morning paper? No. I've been busy. Rogers been murdered. Has it? He was killed in his hotel room last night. I was right, Kitty. Rogers was from the police. You did it, didn't you, Victor? There. The stone's finished. Answer me. You did it, didn't you? Yes. I could. Why? I had to. But you won't tell on me, will you? What makes you think I won't? Because I'm too valuable to you. I can give you the things you always wanted. A lot of good you are to me now. You're a murderer. We could run away. We could hide. They could never find us. Not on your life. I'm not running away with you from now on. I'm running from you. And I came here to say goodbye. Yes. I had an idea that's why you came. There's somebody else, isn't there? No. You don't have to lie to me. I saw you with him last night. What? I was outside your house last night No. All right. So there is someone else. You're no good to me anymore. No. Kitty. What do you want? Just one more thing. I'll make it snappy. I have a gift for you, Kitty. A parting gift. It'll stay with you long after I'm gone. Gift? What kind of a gift? A figure in black marble. This one? Yes. I worked all night on it. I think it's the most beautiful figure I ever made. It's a tombstone. See here. Your name engraved. May the date. Yes. Today's date. Yes. Kitty. Today. The date of your death. No. You mustn't be afraid to die. Victor, wait. Just wait. The rest of this gardener will be all over. No, Victor. I won't leave you. I won't ever leave you. But you don't love me. I do. I do. I'll prove it to you. I'll go with you. I'll run away any place you go. You're only saying that because you're afraid to die. No. No. It's because I want to be near you. No, Kitty. Victor, put your arms around me. Put your arms around me. Kitty. I'll show you how much I care. You're just saying. No. No, I'll prove it. Hold me tight. Isn't this nice, Victor, isn't it? Wonderful, Kitty. No. Kiss me. You'll see I name it. Kiss me, Victor. I want to report a murder. You'll find a body at 14 Crown Street. I'll be here waiting for you. I'm a man who's been dead five years. And that finishes our sculptor's model story. Kitty should have known better. Fool around with a guy who works in Marvel and you're liable to end up stone dead. That's what happens to you when you can't keep your chisel out of other people's head. Well, friend, as we say here in the Inner Sanctum, it's all over but the screaming. It's all over. Ha ha ha ha. Armed Forces Radio, sir. The voice of information and education.