 That I say, I'd like to buy a satchel, if you please. There, that one in the corner would do. The scarlet one. You see, scarlet is my favorite color because it reminds me so very much of blood. You know what I came about, Sam? Sit down. Do you have a smoke? Yes, of course. Do you think Mr. Craig knows what we're doing? I believe he suspects. What are your plans? Tonight, Peter Craig will sign over the last of the estate to me. And when do I get the money you promised me? Within a week. Why, that wait that long? Because it's the best that way. You should wait longer. What not do for the private nurse rose ester to become suddenly rich overnight? You remember the price, don't you? $100,000. I should have more. You were netting a cool million. The deal was all right with you when I made it. Yes. Yes, it's all right. What time tonight? About eleven. And he's good and sleepy. So he'll take the powder without suspecting. You said he already suspects. Not everything. He doesn't know we give him dope to make his mind go blank. We can be pretty sure of that. Oh, that he signs those legal papers while under the influence of the drug? He couldn't possibly know that. He's been taking medicine for so many years when you hold a glass of it in front of him, he takes it automatically. He has one more paper to sign? One more. I'll give him the powder the minute you come into the house tonight. After that, disappear. Yes, I will. But remember, Sam, I expect my share of the money within a week. I think I've been quite patient with you since we went into this thing. It wouldn't be wise for me to become suddenly impatient. Mr. Women, sit down, sit down. Thank you, Mr. Gray. Nice. Hand me my glasses and that table over there. I can't see a thing without my glasses. Your medicine, Mr. Gray. Eh? Medicine. Oh. Oh, all right. Thank you, nice. Can you get my glasses? Here they are. Do you wish warm milk before going to bed tonight? Warm milk, no, not on your life. And don't you go locking my laboratory tonight. I'm going to tinker around in there a bit as soon as Mr. Woodard leaves. Yes, sir. Just ring. You need any things, Mr. Craig. You look well, sir. I never felt better in my life. Now, what's on your mind this hour of the night? Well, Mr. Craig, I've been handling your legal affairs for quite some time now. Yes, yes, yes. You should have seven years, I believe. That's all. This afternoon, I stumbled upon something that absolutely astounded me. And what was that? I happened upon the deed to your estate. I noticed it had never been turned over to you in a legal manner. Well, it's a small technicality, but I thought I should advise you about it. Have you done anything about it? Well, yes, yes, I have. That's why I came out tonight. I have the papers with me. Put everything in perfect order. I say, Mr. Craig, is something wrong? No, I'm just asleepy. I'd better sign the paper now. Yes, sir. I think you'd better. Here, Mr. Craig, on this line right here. Yes, yes, yes. That's right. That's all, Mr. Craig. Thank you very much. This is just exactly what we needed. Just exactly. Nurse! Oh, no. There is no better than to leave me here in darkness. Nurse, nurse, come here. Come here at once. She's not here. She's gone. She's gone and left me when it's so dark, so still. Left me here to die. You know, I can't stand darkness. You know, I can be left alone. You know, you know, my heart. To my manservant, Alex Monroe, I bequeath the sum of $5,000. This is my will. All that remains aside from the forgoing is for Mr. Samuel Willard, my attorney, to carry out the duties I already have it outlined to him. Herewith, attest my hand. Peter Craig. That is Mr. Craig's will. I wish to assure you that the last portion, a portion concerning the duties involving myself, have been carried out. They have to do with the funeral itself and the preparations for the funeral. I wish to thank each of you for coming here tonight to hear the reading of Mr. Craig's will. It will each receive your individual shares of the estate in the next two weeks. Now, good evening. Well, Rose? They took it quite well. Why shouldn't they? After all, they were only his servants. He had no relatives. It didn't strike any of them as strange that Craig should have let the bulk of the estate to fee. You played your cards very well, didn't you? I think so. The smartest thing was giving the servants a share. Yes. Now, I suppose I'll receive my share. Of course. Within a week. Good. Would you mind answering a question for me? I know. What is it? Those instructions about the funeral. I saw nothing unusual about them. There wasn't anything unusual. But just what were these secret instructions, Mr. Craig, left for you in a sealed envelope marked to be read immediately following my passing? Oh, that's what he just stated. He wished to be buried in the family vault. But there was something strange of that. Yes. He directed me to his laboratory, a certain compartment where I found a box wrapped in brown paper and tied with a heavy cord. He instructed that this box was to be buried with him. And was it? Yes, I had it placed in a coffin. Do you know what was in the box? Yes. I don't mind saying I was curious, so I opened the package. Well? It wasn't anything worthwhile at all. Just a couple of pounds of modeling clay. Modeling clay? Yes. What in the world do you think his idea was in wanting to be buried with such an insignificant thing as modeling clay? This way, please, Professor White. Thanks, Mr. Willard. Peter Craig, as I've told you, was an old friend of mine. I certainly was surprised to arrive here and learn he had passed on. Yes. We buried him last Thursday. Mr. Craig had no relatives. I didn't know the names of any of his friends, and that's why you weren't notified. I once worked with Mr. Craig at Oxford. He could have been a professor there anyway. Professor? Here, down these steps. Yes, he was quite an electrical engineer. Work miracles, almost, with wires and tubes and batteries, condensers, all that sort of thing. Well, I knew he liked to fuss around in his laboratory. I've only been inside the place once. Didn't know he was a master at any particular science. Oh, yes, indeed. He was one in a million, always experimenting, always trying some new idea. Here we are. This is Mr. Craig's laboratory. I see. This wax on the door. Oh, that. The police sealed the place up, and they were investigating the death of Peter Craig. Investigating? Yes. Mr. Craig died unattended, heart attack. He fell and struck his head. At first, the police feared foul play. Oh, I see. Oh, I suppose it'll be quite all right to break the seal now. Oh, certainly. We've forgotten all about it. There we are. Now, I'll go first, Professor White. Light switch is very inconveniently placed. OK, sir. This is what you wanted to see. Yes, sir. Just as I thought, table after table and shelf after shelf of electrical equipment. It seems pretty much of a mess to me. Poor old Peter Craig. He never was very tidy. I came in here the day the police were around, just before they sealed the room up. I've never been here before. All these wires and electrical panels and tubes and things give me the creeps. Well, Craig certainly could put weird contraptions together. He spent many hours here. I believe his experiments were the only things that gave him a desire to keep on living. Say, here's a strange-looking workbench over here. What do you mean, Professor? Well, look for yourself here. See, the tabletop is littered with short links of almost invisible copper wires and with little bits of fresh putty. Putty? No, it's not putty. It's modeling clay. You? Yes, you're right. Yes, and here's a cardboard box of this stuff. That box? The brown paper? This heavy cord? Yeah, well, it appears that there was a great deal more than clay in this box. You can see that a good portion of it has been torn away from the original mass. It's the same box. The very same one I put into the casket. What? What could Peter Craig have been doing with modeling clay and thin copper wires? Mr. Willing. Yes? Is that the only entrance to this laboratory? Is it the one the police sealed? Well, yes, it is. No windows, no other door. And yet that seal was unbroken. We both saw it was. But look here on this workbench here. These bits of clay, still moist, not dry and hardened, like they'd be if they'd lain here long. And this hand towel here, look at it. Damp, as though someone had just recently dried his hands on it. Mr. Willing, what's this? Do you know? A locket on a golden chain. Where did you find it? Here on the floor, near the wall over there. His picture is a child inside. You know what's in the locket without opening it? Yes, it was Peter Craig's request that he be buried with this locket in his hands. Yes, yes, this is Rovester. Who wishes to see me, clerk? Well, if he won't give his name, I certainly am not interested. He said to tell me he's the man with the scarlet satchel. Satchel? No, I don't wish to see him. Send him away, please. Tell him to go away. Tell him to go away, Craig. Good evening, my dear. You, the man with the scarlet satchel. I remember when you bought it. You took me with you. And when I suggested a black or brown-colored bag, you said... I said that scarlet is my favorite color because it reminds me so very much of blood. Yes. Well, this isn't true. It can't be true. Peter Craig is dead. Yes, my dear. So he is. But you are Peter Craig. I was Peter Craig once upon a time. Now I am merely an old man with the scarlet satchel. What is in that satchel? I'm just returning a gift, my dear. A gift? Oh, it was the most excellent jest I know, but hardly becoming of so charming a person as yourself. What do you mean? Do you remember the modeling clay? Hmm. I see you do remember. It was merely a joke. We sent it to you only in fun. We... And Mr. Willard and I... Oh, yes. Mr. Willard. Well, I never did tell you how much I appreciated receiving a child's plaything from two such thoughtful people. But now I have come to return the gift. Go away. You... you're some imposter pretending to be Peter Craig. The real Peter Craig is dead and buried. I am going, my dear. But I leave the gift with you. You'll find it there in the satchel. You'll find its contents most interesting, I'm sure. And now, good night, my dear, and goodbye. It's gone. It isn't true. Peter Craig is dead. And so I'm buried. Oh, this is just a horrible dream. Yes, I'll wake up any minute now and... And it's such a scarlet. More scarlet now than it ever was. There on the floor where he left it. It's opening. Anything is opening that satchel from the inside. What in the name of heaven is that thing? Oh, no. Stop. Stop, I tell you. Give way. Give way for me. No! Miss Esther, was a friend of yours, Mr. Willard? Yes, she was. And that newspaper certainly gives a startling account of her death. Yes, Rose Esther was heard by neighboring tenants screaming hysterically. When investigators broke their way through her locked door, they found the nurse sprawled upon the floor of her living room. Both the girl's hands were clasped tightly to her face. Her eyes were staring blankly, wide with terror. Her last gasping words were scarlet satchel, a terror-stricken girl undoubtedly died from fright. Yeah, sounds like a murder plot from Sherlock Holmes. Scarlet satchel? Just a minute, Professor. Still Willard, man. Don't jump like that while you startle the life out of me. It's gone. Gone? What's gone? He kept it here in this closet. I remember when he bought it. Who bought what, Mr. Willard? What in heaven's name are you so excited about? The Scarlet satchel. He always kept it here. Now it's gone. I still don't understand what connects you. The cemetery. That's it. We've got to go out to the cemetery. Come on, Professor White. We've got to go out there and see what's happened to the grave of Peter Craig. His body's gone. Peter Craig's wall has been opened. Opened? As though someone inside had pushed up the coffin lid to escape. That lid was heavy. Peter? Peter Craig. It was so difficult for an old man to push up so much weight. Peter, what donors is this? Is the explanation of this? They told me you were dead and buried, man. Then for once, my good friend, they told the truth. Yes. If he is dead, I saw him just after they found him. He'd been dead for hours. His heart had stopped. Rigor mortis had set him. Yes. I was a perfect corpse. Peter. He was taken to the funeral parlor in Bond. He lay in his coffin a day and a night before we buried him. Mr. Willard, there's some explanation. I saw them close the coffin on him. Saw them bring it out here. Watch them put it into the vault and seal the door. And Rosester witnessed the same thing. That's why I startled her so. You killed her. You killed Rosester. No. But I... She was killed by the thing in the scarlet satchel. The scarlet satchel? Professor White, look. He's carrying it down. There is one plan in the entire scheme of things that a mortal man does not know. That those who are mad at never rest easily within their graves brought a full and perfect vengeance. Maddie. They left me alone, alone in the darkness and stillness of a night to die. They knew that my heart couldn't stand the shock. It was as much madder as if they'd stopped my heart with a dagger thrust. No. No. I had nothing to do with that. You and your friend, Miss Esther, once thought it very hilarious when you sent your child's plaything to the males. At the time, I was not amused. Mr. Willard, now I am. The clay modeling set. Exactly. Peter. Peter, man, what are you doing? The scarlet satchel. He's opening it. I'm taking out my little big-may friend. Peter. That thing looks alive. No. No. It can't be. It's nothing but a little figure modeled in clay. Just a little clay doll. It can't be human. Then watch it come to life. Peter. Good heavens. It's moving, walking like a man. You see, I have put the modeling clay to good use. I have created with it your damnation. No. No. Keep it away from me. Don't let it come any closer. Keep it away, I say. Don't let it touch me. Stop it. Keep that deadly thing away from me. Don't let it touch me. Keep that deadly thing away from me. You have heard the man with the scarlet satchel. The 16th original tale of Dark Fantasy by Scott Bishop. Ben Morris played Sam Willard. Fred Wayne was Peter Craig. George Anna Cook took the part of Rose Esther. And Muir Height was heard as Professor White. Next Friday night at this time, listen to another startling and weird Dark Fantasy adventure. Superstition Be Hang, written by Scott Bishop. Tom Paxton speaking, Dark Fantasy originates each Friday night in the studios of WKY, Oklahoma City. This is the National Broadcasting Company.