 Roma wines taste better because only Roma select from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. And now Roma wines, R-O-M-A, Roma wines, presents Suspense! Tonight Roma wines bring you Miss Lily Palmer in Philomal Cottage, a suspense play produced, edited and directed for Roma wines by William Spear. Suspense, radio's outstanding theater of thrills, is presented for your enjoyment by Roma wines. That's R-O-M-A, Roma wines, those better-tasting California wines enjoyed by more Americans than any other wine, for friendly entertaining, for delightful dining. Tonight in our suspense theater we celebrate the talents of two distinguished ladies. Our play is by Agatha Christie, England's number one suspense specialist, and our heroine is the distinguished continental star who has recently come to join our Hollywood film colony, Miss Lily Palmer. But before we ring up the curtain on tonight's play and on the performance of Miss Palmer, let me make a suggestion. 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Yes, right now a glass bowl would be very pleasant as Roma wines bring you Miss Lily Palmer as Alex Martin with Raymond E. Lewis as her husband Gerald in Philomel Cottage, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Philomel Cottage. What's that Alex? Oh I was just reading the sign over the gate. What does Philomel mean? Why you little foreigner, we've been here for three weeks and you still don't know. Philomel is another name for the bird that's supposed to sing only for lovers. We've been hearing it every twilight. Nightingale. Of course. That signed Philomel Cottage is the main reason I wanted this place for us. Glad you bought it. Oh Gerald, this was a 50-50 investment and you know it. 50-50. A thousand pounds from me and two from you. But we did have to have the place, didn't we? Oh, what an utterly hopeless romantic I'm at. Well, you can't get out of it now. Oh Gerald, do you know what day today is? Today it's the 13th. Our anniversary darling, we've known each other exactly a month. No, exactly 30 days. Oh Gerald, really now. Oh, what is it dear? Do you have that pain again? No, no. It's just a little indigestion I think. Oh Gerald, let me have it. Do you want me to get your... No, no. Well dear, it's 11.35. I'd better get out of the village. Want to get that camera equipment. And the human timetable walks through the garden gate. My dear, there's nothing wrong with system even on a honeymoon. The sooner I go, the sooner I get back. Come on Gerald, forget your old photography. Why don't you stay and do some gardening. Be good for you. Better for old George. He gets paid for it. He's not you again until Saturday. The place will go to rack and ruin. Over my dead body. Goodbye dear. Now don't walk too fast dear. Remember last time? And be careful darling. Wait, it just slipped out. Be careful. I was swinging there on the garden gate smiling out my happiness across a part of England that was as remote and plaited as any you'd care to find. I wonder why it's such a ridiculous thing. If this were London, say, that would have... London? And slowly my smile fell away. I knew then that the memory of that last week in London had never really been far from my mind. That and that last talk with Dick on the top deck of the bus crossing Trafalgar Square. I'd never seen him like that before. So old and muscle. I tell you, Alex, the man's a perfect stranger to you. You know nothing about him. I know that I love him. How can you know in a week? You've only met him. That doesn't take every one seven years to find out they're in love with the girl. That's meant for me isn't it, Alex? It's no use Dick. Alex, don't you know what it's been for me not being able to tell you. I couldn't not with the income I had. Never decided I couldn't wait any more. I was going to tell you anyway. Do you know what happened? I'm afraid I don't. Yes you do. But money you inherited. That money from your cousin or uncle or whoever it was. Well I don't see what. You didn't think that I could ask you to marry me then do you? You don't think I could live off your money? I'm sorry, Dick. Believe me I am but I... It really doesn't matter now one way or the other. It doesn't matter does it? You can let it matter to that mutton chap. That's what he's after. You mark my words he's up to your money. Dick, it might interest you to know that Gerald has money of his own. Far more than I have. Than more than I am. Maybe that's the difference. I've had enough of this. I'm getting off at the next stop. Alex please. All right. But let me tell you something. If you think I'm going to let Gerald cut me out and not do anything about it you're very much mistaken. I'll catch up with him. I'll catch up with him if it's the last thing I do. I'll catch up with him if it's the last thing I do. Oh, it was just a heat of the moment outburst of hurt pride. I shook my head and shook it away. Then the telephone rang inside the cottage. Who could be calling? Couldn't be Gerald. Gerald had hardly had time to get beyond the turn in the road. Except if something had happened to him. If he'd had another attack maybe maybe one of the villagers was calling to say that he... Hello? Alex, this is Dick. What? Who did you say? Dick? Alex, what's the matter with your voice? I wouldn't have known it. It's Dick. Dick Gwindeforum. Oh, where are you? Traveller's Arms. That's the right name, isn't it? Round you or quaded with your village pub. You mean you're here? Yes, I'm on holiday doing a bit of fishing. Any objection to my looking up you two good people's afternoon? Oh no, no. No, you mustn't. I'm sorry, Dick, but I only meant that we'd be away this afternoon. Won't you come this evening? Thanks very much, but I'll probably be away by then. Depends upon whether a pal of mine turns up or not. Goodbye, Alex. One moment, I stood quite still. Then I walked across the living room and by the time I reached the side porch, I'd made up my mind. I would say nothing to Gerald about it. I stepped out into the garden and... Oh, why George? I thought you'd agreed that Saturday was your day here. Oh, well, there'd be a fair over the squares on Saturday and I said to myself, I says, Mr. and Mrs. Martin, they won't mind if I come for one for the Wednesday instead of a Saturday. Oh, of course, Mr. Oh, and I thought too, I might as well see you before you go away so as to learn your wishes about the boxwood edges. Before I go away? Ah, to London tomorrow. Me? Going to London tomorrow? Where did you hear that? I met Mr. Martin down at village yesterday. He told me it was both going away to London tomorrow and it was uncertain when you'd be back again. Well, now, don't tell me that you and the master did agree in all that, eh? Oh, naturally not, no. This trip just slipped my mind, George. Yeah. Never could understand why anybody wanted to go up to London, no. Fuck Mr. Ainsworth soldier, this house, he went up there and can leave behind you. And after fixing up this place I see, there were cats all over everywhere. You're going to take a loss, I says, to him when I seen he put the place up on sale. It's not everyone that will have your sad for washing themselves in every room in the outslide. But George, he said to me, I'll get every penny at two thousand pounds for this house and buy a gummy date. He got three thousand? Two thousand. So, me without him was talked of at the time and the very eyes figured it was thought to be. No, George, you see, I gave to him. Well, it really was three thousand. Mr. Ainsworth, the cheque is three thousand to you. Well, he didn't say it to me, he said it to my husband. Well, I can now do some spading now. And the price was still bad. As I strolled on across the garden, I was conscious of a thin, vague thought struggling to make itself heard. And then abruptly it was gone. My eye had fallen upon a small, dark green object lying in the far-overside one of the flower beds. It was Gerald's diary, my husband's focal diary. I picked it up and opened it. I remember I scanned the entries with some amusement. I once again reminded of Gerald's enslavement of time and systems. On page 21, there was an entry. April 14, Mary Alex at St. Peter's Church, 230. And then I looked at today's date, Wednesday, May 13. Only one thing was written there in red pencil. It said, 6 p.m. Now, what did it mean? What was to happen at 6 p.m.? And I, something just, oh no. But this is ridiculous. What am I afraid of? Gerald is my husband. I love him. I trust him. Then I looked again at that cryptic entry. 6 p.m. Yes? Miss me, darling? Oh, why wouldn't I? It's 3 o'clock. You've had time to buy out the whole village. Only the camera shop. Now, if I don't have the best equipped darkroom this side of London won't be my fault. If you're not careful, that darkroom of yours is going to overfill the whole cellar. Oh, incidentally, here's something you've been watering the flowers with. Catch. Oh, my diary. Dropped it in the garden, did I? I know all your secrets. Oh, not guilty. Well, I'm not so sure. What about your resignation at 6 p.m. today? Oh, that. Well, you've caught me at last. It's a rendezvous with a very handsome young woman. Quite remarkably like you, in fact. You're evading the issue. Not at all. I simply a reminder that I want you to help me develop some negatives this evening. At 6 o'clock? Well, I'll be getting dinner. We might have just a sandwich or two of some coffee out on the porch. But before we work on the negatives, you mean? Yes, that'll be pleasant, won't it? You know something, Alex? I've never found anybody yet who could touch your coffee. No, really. And that covers Australian Canada, too. You and your mysterious past. Why do you say that? No reason, I... But, Gerrit, I do wish I knew more about you. Alex, you're serious. Well, I know it's silly. Darling, I've told you all about me, my boyhood in Sydney, my life in Canada. Oh, I see. You mean love affairs, you women are all alike. Well, but there must have been other women. Oh, I don't mean that you're a bluebeard or something, but surely... What? Bluebeard? What's your mind on such a subject, anyway? Never mentioned it before? Oh, I don't know, Gerrit. I've been rather upset all day. I imagine I can thank old George for that. The gardener, you mean? Yes. He had some ridiculous idea. We were going away to London. He said you told him so. Where did you see him? Oh, he came to work today instead of Saturday. He's an old fool. Why, Gerrit? Well, he is an old fool. I want to... Gerrit! Oh, Gerrit! Fly down, fly down here, darling. I'll bring you some water. Some... your medicine. Are you all right? Oh, I'm sorry, darling, getting you all upset about... Oh, just because of the stupid old gardener. Oh, I... I... I made some weak joke to him about being off to London in the morning. He must have taken it seriously, or else he wouldn't hear properly. Just straightened him out, I suppose. Oh, hardly you know the gossip he is. I didn't want the whole village to think my husband was leaving me in the dark about his plan. Are you all right, dear? Really? You told him we were going there? Naturally. Yes, of course. Sorry you were placed in that kind of a situation, darling. I suppose you ran into anybody else today. This far from the world, Gerrit? It isn't very likely, is it? Well, Gerrit... Now, not another word. You aren't yourself now. That's quite plain, and I want you to have a little rest, a little nap. You'll be right as rain by six o'clock. Must you do those photographs tonight? You don't... My dear, when once is the time to do something, one should stick to it. That's the only way to get through one twerk. All right, up with you. Upstairs to your bed now. Very well, dear. I'll be getting things arranged in the dark. I went upstairs to my room. I told myself there was no basis, no basis whatever for my state of mind. And still the turmoil, the doubt, the odd unaccountable sense of dread persisted, grew and grew until quite clearly I knew what I must do. Knew I must find some testimony to my husband's past, something to reassure me in. And then, strangely, I remembered that single lock drawer in Gerrit's bureau. I took tour to the door at the head of the stairs, opened it, and entered my husband's room. A key. If only I could find the key to that lock drawer, but there was none in sight. The closet, and then his coat pockets, and then... There, my feet. They're on the floor. I saw it. I opened the drawer, looked down. A small packet of letters tied with a light blue ribbon. And when I saw the uppermost envelope, my face flushed with shame. They were my own letters, love letters written to Gerald before we were married. There was nothing else in the drawer, just a roll of ancient faded newspaper clippings. My glance to the top clipping, it was from an American paper. The trial of one Charles Lemaître, notorious, window-ambiguous. A skeleton had been found beneath the floor of his house, and most of the women he'd married had never been heard of again. Another of the clippings described Lemaître's behavior in court. His interest in the cameras, of the news photographers, his sensational escape from prison, and another displaced picture, long-bearded, scholarly-looking fellow. Reminded me of someone. I glanced at the caption beneath the picture, Modern Bluebeard. Modern Bluebeard! My eyes went back to the picture, and in a flash, I saw there was evidence. I went through the other clippings. Dates had been found in the man's pocket diary. Dates, it was contended when he'd done away with his victims. He was an amateur photographer. He was from Sydney, from Canada. He was subject to heart attacks. He was, he was terrified. Dick had tried to warn me. Dick had been near me that morning, and I turned him away. It was then that I noticed a sound. There was a pipe in the corner running up through the room from below, near its base. Something was striking at that pipe as though someone were, as though someone were tea. I knew then that Charles Lemaître was preparing the dark room for the latest one from his victims. Six o'clock. Less than an hour from now. All the dicks or pieces shot into place. The money paid for the house. My money! My money only. The bond side entrusted to his keeping me. And then suddenly, I heard the quiet. The digging had stopped. It came from that house at once, before he came out. The clippings, back in the drawer. Don't lock it. Don't lock it. Don't bother. Just, just get away. I rushed to the door. Out on the hall and... Yes, my dear? You, you started with me. I, I, I was just, I was just trying to find you an e-file. Were you, dear? Well, that's nothing to look so guilty about now, is it? Better come on down, getting late, you know. Just have time to make the coffee and sandwiches before we do the pictures. Well, I'll be right down, darling. As soon as... You really mustn't delay, must we? Coming, Alex? Very well. Never mind, Jared. Hi, Alex. How cold you are. Cold? Oh, yes. Yes, I am rather. Well, I will soon pass away, I'm sure. Hurry along, dear. Hurry along. Yes. Into the kitchen. Alex, what is the matter? Oh, nothing. I'll be all right. The kitchen. Yes, yes. I'll fix it something in a second. You just sit here in the living room and... Oh, no, no, no, the porch. That would be more comfortable, won't it? And I'll be right with you. Glanded, Alex. I'll just... Why, no, of course not. What, Jared? How rotten of me not to have suggested it, since you're feeling a bit under par, you can probably do with some help. I'll come with you. I knew then that someway, somehow, I must get word to big. The possibility that he might be gone by now, I just put out of my mind. No more panic. No more panic. When I carried the coffee out on the porch, I glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was ten minutes till six. A pity you're so abstracted, my dear. Huh? Oh, why do you say that? Because you're missing the loveliest sight you are likely to see again. Look out beyond the garden, the first soft shades of twilight. Twilight of a Philomel cottage. I say, Alex, you are below par. Oh, what do you mean? It was the first time you've ever slipped on the coffee. You must have tossed in the entire canister. Oh, I'll be more careful after this. Oh, dear, that reminds me. Alex, where are you going? Nothing to get excited about, Gerald. I forgot to order things for tomorrow. I'm just going to phone the grocer. Grocer this time of evening? Oh, he generally stays late on Wednesdays. I'll be right back, Alex. Well, don't shut the door, Alex. Oh, it keeps the insect out of the living room. Oh, you're not afraid. I'm going to make love to the grocer, are you? Operator. Exchange. Operator, get me the traveller's arms. Please, hurry. Hello? Hello? Mr. Wendiford, please. Will you? What? You don't know if he's still there? Oh, well, see, won't you? It's most important. Don't let me disturb you. Oh, darling, you do. I hate anyone listening when I telephone. But I do, Gerald, truly. You're quite sure you're really calling the grocer. Well, as a matter of fact, I'm not sure. What? What I mean is, I'm afraid I've got the wrong person. A perfect stranger. I don't understand. Someone I know nothing about. You know nothing about them? Why don't you hang up? Here, who's at the end of that wire? Let me see. Hello? Hello? Oh, it's dead. All right, my dear. Might as well get started. Oh, we're late now. Late? Other pictures? Precisely. Three minutes after six. Quite Gerald. It won't be six o'clock for eight minutes. Look, it's a clock there on the menu. Oh, I don't go by that relic. I go by my own wristwatch. Gerald, listen. Stop pacing and listen to me. I don't feel up to it tonight. I'm upset and I'm tired. Alex, I promise you, you won't be a bit tired after it's over. No, I'm not going to wait one minute longer. No, I won't do it. I'm not coming with you. How long, Alex? Or I'll carry you there. No! No! Gerald, stop! Stop! I've got something to tell you. Something to confess. Confess? Yes. Yes, to confess. Something I ought to have told you before. I've had my secret path, too. A former lover, I suppose. Well, in a way, but something else. You'd call it... Yes. I expect you'd call it a crime. A crime? You? I don't believe it. You'd better sit down now, Gerald. There. I told you, I'd never been married before. That was not entirely true. There was a marriage when I was 22 in Vienna. He... He... He was an elderly man with a little property. I... Go on. I induced him to ensure his life in my favor. And at one time I was a nurse with access to a number of poisons. And there's one poison, a white powder. You know something about poisons, perhaps? No, I know very little about them. How? Well, this one is absolutely untraceable. Any doctor would give a certificate of heart failure. And that... I can't... Go on. I want to hear it. I... Well... All right. I always made his coffee for him. And one evening I put a pinch of this poison in his cup. I remember that evening how very much like... How very much like this it was, how peaceful he... Gasp a little and tried to move from his chair but couldn't. And presently he died. How much was the insurance money? Oh, about 2,000 pounds. I... I speculated though I lost it. And it was over two years before I married again. And he was a much younger man. Quite well off. There was a will in my favor. To make his coffee too, just as my first husband had done. I made very good coffee. Alex. It was the same. Along about twilight. The coffee. It was the same as the other. He just sat there in his chair. The coffee. And died. Our village doctor pronounced it heart failure. My husband did have a weak heart, you see. And that helped. It helped a great deal. Alex, listen. That netted me over 4,000 pounds. I didn't speculate with coffee. That's why I tasted it that way. You never poisoned me. You poisoned me. I'll kill you. Yes, I poisoned you. And already the poison is working, you see. You can't move from your chair. You're lying. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. Alex. Don't do, Alex. Constable, you'll see what's happening in that room. Right, sir? I had to tell him. And the most horrible story. Oh, I couldn't have kept it up any longer. You came just in time, Dick. You understood on the phone. Darling, when I heard you say you've got the wrong person, someone you knew nothing about. Excuse me, sir. What did you find, Constable? A man sitting in a chair, sir. Our trouble, it looks like. And, uh... Yes. Well, sir. He's dead. Your husband, man. And you might say... A perfect stranger. He was just sitting in his chair. And presently, he died. Suspends. Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A. Roma, America's favorite wine. And now this is Ken Niles bringing back to our suspense microphone the star of tonight's play, a lovely newcomer whose great acting talent has carried her to overnight Hollywood stardom, Miss Lily Pump. Lily, your performance tonight certainly qualifies you as one of Hollywood's reigning queens of suspense. Well, thank you, Ken. But how can I accept another throne? I'm already married to the king of Siam. You're what? If you remember, it's my husband who plays the Siamese monarch on the screen. Oh, yes, of course. And for your majesty's entertaining pleasure, this New Year's Eve, here's a little present from Roma, America's greatest vendor. A gift basket of Roma California Champagne. Did you see a little present? I call Roma Champagne a magnificent gift. Well, true, Lily. And your friends will call Roma Champagne magnificent, too. For pale gold, sprightly dry Roma Champagne adds a touch of continental smartness to New Year parties. Naturally fermented by the world-famed Charmont bulk process, brilliant bubbling Roma Champagne is sparkling wine at its finest. It will make those golden moments live forever. Say it with Roma Champagne. Say it with Roma. I will, Ken. And, Lily, to bring you the finest in sparkling enjoyment, Roma begins with choicest grapes, especially selected for fine Champagne. Then ancient Roma skill and the magic of necessary time guide this grape treasure to rare taste luxury in America's finest Champagne sellers. That's why those who know Champagne will call Roma Champagne golden masterpiece of America's greatest vendor. So welcome the New Year smartly. Say it with Roma Champagne. Right, Ken. Good night. Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Mr. Mark Stevens as star of Suspense, produced and directed by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. Stay tuned for the thrilling adventures of the FBI in peace and war following immediately over most of these stations. In the coming weeks, Suspense will present such stars as Dan Douye, Alexander Kitchcock, and others. Make it a point to listen each Thursday to Suspense, radio's outstanding theater of thrills. Suspense is broadcast from coast to coast and to our men and women overseas by shortwave and through the worldwide facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting District.