 Suspense. A star of the long shot. A suspense play produced, edited and directed by William Spear. And is how in the world a man of your intelligence could expect to get away with it? Oh, you haven't heard the whole story. Yeah? Well, come on, let's have it. You got your book, Miss Andrews? Yes, sir. Okay, Raymond, okay, start from the beginning. You know, of course, there's anything you say, but... Oh, what difference does it make if you found the body? Nothing I can say now. It's going to matter one way or another. Yes, I admit it was a long shot, but if you followed the horses as long as I have, you know that once in a while a long shot pays off. When it does, it pays plenty. Just like this one would have if it hadn't been for a smart Nevada cop. Smart Nevada cop? Oh, I don't understand. Here, let him talk. Let him talk. Okay. Go on, Raymond. Thanks. It seems a year, but I guess it's only ten days since I was sitting in the Astor Lobby in New York. I'd had a terrible run of luck at the tracks. Started out the season with $2,000 and ended up with $0.28, so how is that for you? Hey, give me one. Give me one. There you are, mister. Thank you. Paper. I don't know why, but I found myself absentmindedly looking through the classified section. All of a sudden, a small black square in the help-wanted column seemed to come up and hit me right in the eye. Englishmen will pay $150 in expenses to fellow countrymen, preferably Londoner, in return for services as driver and traveling companion on automobile trip to San Francisco. There was a phone number and an address on 76th Street. You say you're from Devonshire? Yes, I understand. Have you spent much time in London? Well, frankly, I'd much prefer Londoner. Sounds a sort of fetish with me, you understand? Yes, I'd probably bore you to death. However, if nothing else turns up, I'll call you. Oh, step inside, please. Thank you. You've come about the advertisement, I presume. Yes. Oh, have a chair. Thanks. You know, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. Oh, yes. Been played all day, not a prospect in the lot. Now, what about you? Well, my name's Kelly Raymond, born in London in Vigolane, just off St. James Square, August the 18th, 1902. I know the town like the inside of my hat. Really? You're not making this up. Oh, no, no, of course not. How long did you live there? 30 years. Vigolane? I'm not sure I know it. Well, I suppose Vigol Street is the proper name. It turns right off Sackville and runs a few squares before it crosses Regent Street. Oh, yes, yes, yes. Of course I place it now. Well, Raymond, you seem to be a bit of all right. Tell me, why would you like to drive with me to San Francisco? You're at all interested in horse racing, Mr... Sorry, oh, boy, my name is Hendricks, Walker Hendricks. No, I can't say that I am particularly been to Ebson Towns on a few occasions. I see. Well, I've become rather fond of it. I might even say financially dependent on it in recent years and with Bay Meadows opening shortly... Bay Meadows or Jack? That's a track near San Francisco. Oh, yes, I see. Perhaps you wondered about my advertisement. Well, it was a bit unusual. Yes. Well, fact is I'm extremely depressed with Americans, frankly. Never would have come here if it hadn't been for urgent business in San Francisco. Naturally, I couldn't bear the prospect of making the trip alone. I hope to find a fellow Britisher in the same predicament. Oh, excuse me a moment, OK? Yes. Hello. Oh, oh, yes. Well, I'm frightfully sorry, but I've just engaged a man. I didn't tell him why I had to leave town, of course. There was the small matter of a few bad checks and a cell waiting for me in the city jail if I ran into the wrong people. And, thank heaven, with all his eccentricity, he knew when to stop asking questions. Yes, yes, I was sitting pretty. The only thing I was afraid of was death from sheer boredom because from the moment we started out, all he could talk about was London. Have you spent much time in Soho, Raymond? Well, I never lived there, that's what you mean. Oh, no, no, no, I mean the restaurants and so on. Have you visited them? Oh, well, let me see. There's the Moroccan. Oh, no, no, no, what was it? The Algerian cafe in Dean Street. Oh, quite right, the Algerian and Dean Street. Isn't that the place where they sell the wonderful coffee in the little brown packages? Yes. Yes, I'm sure. There's a big French woman there that we used to call Madame. Oh, quite, I recall her now. Do you remember the sign on the wall behind the counter? Let me see. Something about anyone caught gambling or playing for money will be kicked into the gutter and not picked up again. Oh, yes, dashed amusing, wasn't it? As a matter of fact, I remember her clearly now. Yes, I saw her there a short time ago. Oh, it seems to me she died, didn't she? Was that a fact? Yes. Oh, you probably met her daughter. Oh, slow down a bit, will you? Uh-oh, there's a sign. Cleveland, 12 miles. Oh, well, we'll spend the night there, I think. Oh, good idea. Let's see. Oh, yes, we were talking about servo. Yes, we were talking about servo, and we continued to talk about it the rest of the way to Cleveland and most of the night in the hotel room. I began to think the man doubted my authenticity and was trying to trip me up. On the way to Chicago the next day, we covered Whitechapel, Fleet Street, Bloomsbury, and Mayfair. He still hadn't stuck me, but I was beginning to feel like a well-thumbedicus guide at the time we reached Chicago. We had just finished settling down in our hotel room. You've seen that remarkable man in Covent Garden, Raymond. Yes, a lot of remarkable men in Covent Garden. Of course, but I mean the one who does that wonderful balancing act. Oh, yes, yes, Jim the Porter. Balance is 20 vegetable baskets on his head in the middle of traffic at High Noon. It's quite a sight, that. Mr. Hendricks, I wonder if I might have a small advance on my salary? Oh, I suppose so, yes. This is still rather early, and I thought I might look over the windy city. Of course, Raymond. Oh, sure. Let me open my release. Oh, gosh, this infernal lock is always acting up. Oh, there we are. Won't it be enough? Oh, fine, thanks. Say, I believe I'll join you. Stretch the legs a bit, eh? I could see that he was good for a couple more hours of London. But there was no getting out of it. Around the corner from the hotel was a place where I was reasonably sure of running into some of the racing crowd I'd met during the Arlington season. I lost no time getting there. I had a club sandwich, and at Mr. Hendricks' request, I was expounding scholastically on the difference between Chicago and London, Bacon, when... Kelly! Tommy! Hey, good to see you, Kelly. I thought you were in Miami. Yeah, I'll leave it in a couple of days. How about coming along? Oh, well, I'm on my way to San Francisco. This is Mr. Hendricks. Tommy, do it. How long are you? How do you do? You can't walk out on me like this, Kelly. I got a deal for you. No. Yeah. Oh, sure. You'll excuse me, Mr. Hendricks. Oh? Oh, oh, oh! Rather, of course. Yes, yes, yes. Go right in. Hey, what was your name in that club? I'll, uh, get right to the point. We bought us some jockeys. Huh? It's coming up next week at High Lea. $500 will get you $10 grand on a parlay, but it's got to be $500. Now, look at your shirt on this. I never failed you yet, have I? No, I've got to drive that stiff to San Francisco. Oh, what if you just walked out? Well, when I suppose I could, here's for the $500. Has, uh, he got any money? Wait a minute. That Valise. Huh? Tommy, you sure this can't lose? I'm positive. Now, listen, listen. All you have to do is watch that booth where Hendricks is and phone me at the hotel if he leaves. Yeah. I'll call you in about five minutes and tell you where to meet me. I'd remembered about that wallet full of bills in Hendricks' Valise back of the hotel. It was easy to slip out the back of the place, leaving Tommy watching him from the small window in the door to the back room. In two minutes, I was back in our own hotel. There it was, just like we'd left it, and to make things even easier, he'd forgotten to lock it. It was $680 in $20 bills in the wallet and a sheaf of legal-looking documents in the portfolio next to it. Glanced at them idly as I pocketed the money. On top was a letter to Hendricks from a law firm in San Francisco, and although this was no place to be caught reading other people's mail, I began reading it. It was dated two months ago, October the 18th, 1934, addressed to Hendricks in Bedford Park, London. I wish to thank you for the patience and cooperation you have shown in the matter of your uncle's estate. Realize our position, of course, since you are completely unknown personally to either relatives or legal counsel in the United States. It has been necessary to establish proof of your right to the estate entirely by documentary evidence. Happy to state that such proof is now thoroughly established. Ask that you present yourself with documents requested in our previous letter at our San Francisco offices and trust that final disposition of the estate will be accomplished without further difficulty. Signed Martin Kelston attorney at law. I put the papers back in the police, grabbed my luggage and started to leave. But I didn't leave. I stopped with my hand on the door knob and all of a sudden my mind started going a mile a minute. Birth certificate. I feel David's from Friends, notarized statement from the Department of Records, chief of letters, the evaluation of estate. Oh, my heart began to pound. Yes, this was a long shot. I knew it as I stood there looking down at those papers, checking them carefully. But it paid off a hundred thousand dollars. Everything, every affidavit and statement was a guarantee that their bearer was Walker Hendricks and to tie it up tighter, one of the letters said pictures wouldn't be necessary. Just a passport. Yes, it was a long shot. But did you ever see odds like that, boy? Maybe you're right, boys. Well, I don't know. Maybe I lost my reason there in the hotel room because of my nose trying to think a million things through at the same time, trying to calm down and see it clearly when I knew Hendricks was liable to walk in any minute. Anyway, I put the papers and the 680 dollars back in the valise and put the copy of McFalty's Your London and Mine on top. Then I called Tommy Dewitt at the horse's neck, told him the hire deal was off, that there wasn't any money in the room. We left Chicago the next morning right on schedule. Oh, ma'har, six miles. Expect we'd better stay there tonight, eh? Oh, you were saying you know the George in, Raymond. Yes, you know, it's not in London proper. It's in Southwark, on the other side of the river. Oh, yes, I'm really all right with that. What would you give for some of their jugged hair or their bubbling squeak? It's a rare oldie in the George. I couldn't see a leak anywhere. All I had to do was pick the right time and place. He looked 45, but according to the birth certificate, he was only a year older than I, so I can't tell how old a man looks by the way he writes a letter. Yes, I thought of the handwriting tool, made traces of the signatures on the letters and practiced on them every minute I was alone. Have it been there, Raymond? Have it been to the cock? What, the cock? Yes, yes. Oh, yes, it's Fleet Street. I used to go there with a friend of mine, a reporter on The Times. It seems there was a waitress there that he was quite fond of much to the dismay of his parents. Oh, right on schedule. Salt Lake City, three miles. Joe, I'll be glad for a wash. That plain country's appalling. Nice to have some trees for a change. Not a bad spot at that. In fact, I have an aunt here, you know. An aunt? Yes. How long since you've seen her? I've never seen her. Don't intend to. She's a sister of my mother's, a Marguerite stodder. Thoroughly Americanized, I understand, and probably a crashing bore. Aren't you going to look up your dear old aunt now that you're right here in Salt Lake? No, definitely not, definitely not. I managed to get away from Hendricks right after dinner and told him I had a friend to look up. Yes, here was a way of telling about that payoff ahead of time. A laboratory test right here in Salt Lake City with nothing to lose if it didn't work out. How do you do? Are you Mrs. Marguerite's daughter? Yes. Walker Hendricks. Oh, I... I can't believe it. May I come in? Yes, of course. I'm a little... You must excuse me, I... I understand now, Marguerite. You know, I was so hoping it would be you I found your address in the phone book, you know. Please make yourself comfortable. I'll fix some tea. Oh, no, I just finished dinner. Please let me. I'll only be a minute and somehow I can talk much better over a cup of tea. Very well. I give in. You're a pleasant surprise, Walker. Thanks. I'd expected you'd be a little more like... Like you? Like what? Oh, perhaps I'd better not mention it. Oh, please do. You know, I think it's time we talked these things over. You'll never know how mature Uncle Gerald regretted what he did. Oh, you mean the will? Of course not. Long before that. Cecilia never told you, I suppose. No. Oh, no. She never told me. I'm so hurt, it's no wonder. If they could only have understood each other better. But she and your Uncle Gerald were as two peas in a pod, Walker. Neither would give in an inch. You know, Aunt, she never mentioned her family. No, I suppose she wouldn't. After all, she loved your father and Gerald hated him. And so she left? Yes. Of course you naturally don't know all these things. No, no, naturally. Uncle Gerald would be the last to admit it. But I'm sure the will was his stubborn way of giving in to her. Well, perhaps. I'm sure of it. And since I've met you, Walker, I'm happier than ever it worked out this way. And now that there's nothing any of us can do for your poor mother and father, oh, but I was going to fix tea, wasn't I? You just make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back. There ever was any doubt in my mind. It appeared then and there. I even tried to catch myself up and she never suspected a thing. They knew absolutely nothing of Cessli Hendricks from the time she left home until Gerald died, leaving her the hundred grand. At that point, they made a pretty thorough search. Pound, both she and her husband had died in England. And their son, Walker, was the only heir. I could have told her I was born in a tower of London and she would have believed me. That was it. Now I even had an identity witness to back me up. It's 521 miles from Salt Lake to Reno, but I convinced Hendricks we could make it before stopping. I had a special reason. We had to hit the desolate section of Middle Nevada about midnight. As usual, from the time I stepped on the starter that morning, he was off on another tour of London. You know, for all the years I've lived in London, I've never visited Billingsgate. Oh, you must have. It's right next to the bridge. You know, there's hardly a spot in London where I haven't been. If you like fish, you'd be interested. Otherwise, I wouldn't recommend it. Oh, fascinating district around there, though. When you get right down to it, killing a man's a pretty tough job. Even when it's as perfect as this was going to be. So for once I was so thankful for London. It gave us something to talk about and there was so much in my mind that I might have given myself away in silence. So I prattled on like a phonograph. Yes, I used to go down there as a boy to watch the Dutch eelboats put in and out of the harbor. I never heard of a Dutch eelboat. Well, I expect most Londoners haven't. Amazing thing about that town. It seems that the greenest tourists knows more about it than the Londoners themselves. I'd say you've done rather well, boy. Don't you know, I've been on my own since I was 14. Now, take yourself, for example, ten to one you've never been in Fetticoat Lane. Perfectly marvelous place. It was right in the heart of the city. Japs, Chinese, Malayans, everybody shouting at once and selling something different. That's rather near Hangman's Dock, isn't it? Yeah. Catch that sign, will you? Oh, very well. Slow down a bit. Ah, Wendover, Oasis, well... Oh, yes, Elko, Three Miles. By the way, Raymond, don't you think it might be wiser to spend the night here? I thought we decided. Well, yes, I know, but I've been thinking it's rather a long go to Reno. Well, you can doze in the car. Yes, but why? We've got lots of time. Look, here's what we'll do. Make Reno tonight and take a little extra jaunt around Lake Tahoe tomorrow. And we won't lose a bit of time, and I promise you that it'll take your breath away. How's that? Well, we'll have a quick bite in Elko and move right on. It's only a few hours. Oh, very well. Although frankly, Raymond, I'm enjoying this reminiscing so much I hate to cut the trip short. Oh, good. Well, that's decided, isn't it? We left about eight. At midnight we were somewhere between Winnie Mucka and Reno, passing through some barren hills. I knew the time had come, and my hands began to shake so much that I had to grab the wheel with both of them. I felt beneath the cushion for the wrench. I was still there. Finally, I held my breath and pulled over on the shoulder. Huh? Oh, I see. Oh, what were you stopping for? Look, look, over there against that cliff. Well! Oh! He never knew what hit him. I turned out the lights of the car and pulled the body out on the right-hand side. We hadn't passed the car for hours, so I wasn't worried much about being seen. Ah, he was heavy. Pretty heavy. But I managed to carry him over my shoulder as I walked off into the brush. There was a small cave on one side of the ravine. I shoved the body in and rolled a large rock over the opening. I started a small landslide which completely covered the hole. Nobody could possibly find it. The clouds came back across the moon again and I got a bit off in my direction because I ended up on the highway at the top of a rise some distance ahead of the car. I had just about reached the car and I saw something that made my stomach feel as if it was full of ice water. But there, behind Mike, I was another one with a seal on the door. The seal of the Nevada State Police. There was nobody in the car. The officer must have been wandering around looking for the driver of my car. I lifted the hood of the engine and knocked the battery cable off one of the terminals. And then I waited for a year there in the silent. And then I almost cried out in relief. The officer appeared from the other side of the highway. Hey there! I don't know, officer. He just went dead on me. Having a look up the road when you arrive. Yeah, we usually check on stalled cars in this stretch. You say she went dead on you. Yes, the lights went out, the motor just died. The lights went out, huh? You, uh, been under the hood? I wouldn't do much good, I'm afraid. I'm pretty green at that sort of thing. Now let's have a look. Fine. Get the flashlight on. Your battery cables jar loose, brother. Got a wrench? Oh, yes. Here. Right handy, huh? There you are. Say, uh, try her now. You know, that's pretty simple. Yeah, it was. Thanks, thanks ever so much. That's okay. Let's see, uh, your name's Hendrix, huh? Check the registration. You're a long way from home, brother. That's right, yes. Well, thanks, thanks a lot. You're welcome, brother. Good night. Too sure, I guess. I had the passport faked here in San Francisco complete with picture and a perfect imitation of an English visa. I was all set. And yet when the time came I began to waver again. I wasn't sure about that cop. But what if he sent someone back the next day to look around? Battery cables just don't jar loose by themselves. For three days I sat in my hotel room here thinking I bought Nevada papers from an out-of-town newspaper stand on Market Street. No mention of the murder, nothing, nothing. And that's why you were smart. You'd never have got me if anything had leaked out of the papers about finding that body. Well, anyway, when I couldn't stand it any longer, I flipped a coin. Heads, I'd do it. Tails, I wouldn't. I came up heads. Well, you know the rest. Naturally I denied it until you sprained on me that the body had been found and then I knew it was no use. Well, why don't you say something? Still think I couldn't carry it off, Kelsen? Well, don't just sit there with a blank look on your face. Just say something. Well, Raymond, we were holding you for the murder of Walker Hendricks, but it appears we were wrong. What? What's the matter with all of you? It was a long shot, Raymond, but it was a pretty good bet. Maybe that's why both of you gambled on it. What do you mean, both of you? You and whoever you bumped off in the van. With wh-whoever I b- Hendricks is dead. I know he's dead. Oh, Hendricks was murdered all right, but you didn't do it. What? You see, he bitched to it, Raymond. Who be-who? Your traveling companion, he wasn't. Hendricks, he wasn't even an Englishman. That's why he was pumping you so much about London. He was, uh... Well, what do actors call it, uh, getting up in his part? What are you talking about? I thought you found Hendricks' body in Nevada. Oh, brother. Hendricks never was in Nevada. Poor guy never left New York. The New York police turned up the real Hendricks in the East River the day after you left town shopping for the guy who killed him. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service.