 Suspense. This is The Man in Black. Here again to introduce Columbia's program, Suspense. Our star tonight is Miss Mary Aster, one of Hollywood's most charming and resourceful actresses, and a lady who is no stranger to the art of keeping audiences in suspense. Ask anyone who saw her in the Maltese Falcon or across the Pacific. The story called In Fear and Trembling by J. Donald Wilson is tonight's tale of suspense. If you have been with us on these Tuesday nights, you will know that suspense is compounded of mystery and suspicion and dangerous adventure. In this series, our tales calculated to intrigue you, to stir your nerves, to offer you a precarious situation and then withhold the solution until the last possible moment. And so it is with In Fear and Trembling and Miss Mary Aster's performance, we again hope to keep you in suspense. The edge of the cliff overlooking the sea sits a gray stone mansion, weather beaten by the storms of several decades. To this mansion, Gilbert Durant brought his bride, Lucia, that was four years ago. Gilbert and Lucia were quite happy until a year ago, when Lucia's half-sister Beverly came to live with them. Gradually, something began to happen. Lucia felt it, felt that some insidious horror was beginning to gnaw at her happiness. She began to know that Gilbert's ardor was beginning to cool. He became more absorbed in his writing. Then she felt the cold claminess of the great stone structure creeping about her, clutching at her heart. Anyone who saw her could tell that fear was growing in her mind, a fear of something which she could not or would not explain. One evening, Lucia, having excused herself at dinner, tossed on her bed in a fretful sleep. It's driving me mad. That makes the fourth or fifth time I've dreamed the same thing, the same in every detail. I've never heard you scream before. No. Oh, that's probably because what? Oh, it always comes a little closer to me. Tonight, it almost reached me. It? What do you mean? I don't know what it is. It's a figure, a human figure, but I can't tell whether it's a man or a woman. It comes through that door and walks slowly across the room with its arms outstretched, reaching for me. Are you sure you were dreaming? Now that I think of it, it isn't like a dream, ordinary dream. Its reality seems to carry over even after I'm awake. That's what's made you so ill. This dream, if it is a dream, means something. Is that what you think? It's a premonition? Perhaps. Nine o'clock. Where's Gilbert? Your husband went horseback riding over an hour ago. Did he go alone? Your sister went with him. Beverly? Why didn't he ask me to go? Well, you've not been yourself lately. Not been feeling well. Yes, yes, of course. Well, if you're feeling better, I'll go back to my room. Oh, yes, I'll be all right. Thank you, Ms. Benson. Good night. Good night, ma'am. Lucia lay there for a while, staring wild-eyed at the patch of moonlight on the bedroom door, listening, waiting. Then as the clock struck half past ten, the door opened and the figure stepped into the room and moved noiselessly through the moonlight to Lucia's bed. Suddenly, Lucia opened her eyes. Lucia, what's wrong with you? What are you doing in my room? I just wanted to know how you felt. How long have you been standing there? Oh, just a few seconds. I was dreaming, I guess, but I woke up, you startled me. Why were you yelling, don't, don't? I don't know. I haven't the slightest idea. I talked to Dr. Handy about you today. I told him I'll run down you were and he suggested that I get a tonic for you. I'll drop him at the drugstore on my way home tomorrow evening. A tonic? Yes. Well, what is it? Oh, I don't remember. Something, something in Strickland. Strickland? Yeah, see, said it would give you an appetite. Where have you been, Gil? Oh, I've been riding. Nice moonlight night. Very pleasant. Did Beverly enjoy it? Yeah, she's an excellent rider. I decided to buy that filly from Thompson, going over there tomorrow afternoon. Is Beverly going with you? Yes. She's a good judge of horse flesh. Why? Nothing, I just asked. Well, good night, Lucia. See you at breakfast? Yes. Good night. Something, something in Strickland. Something, something in Strickland. Lucia jumps from her bed, rushes down to the library, snaps on the light and steps to the shelf holding the encyclopedia. She runs her fingers down the long line of books, L-M-N-O-P-R, and then she stops and stares. The S to T is missing. Then she sees it on the desk, the missing volume. She rushes to the desk and stares down at the open page. Yes, yes, that's it. Strickland. I'll tell you what, Beverly. I'll leave the deal entirely up to you. Up to me? Gil, that's not fair. Why not? Well, suppose she turns out to be a lemon. I don't think she will, because you're going to have the job of training her. Oh, you certainly flatter me. Not in the least. Oh, good morning, Lucia. I just realized what time it was. You'll be leaving in a few minutes. Yes, it's nine. That's a very minute. Step on it. More coffee, Beverly? No, thanks. How do you feel, Lucia? Better, much better. You better eat something. No, I can't. At least some coffee. Yes, I'll have some coffee. I've got to run. See you later, Lucia. Yes, Gil. And I'll see you this afternoon, too, Beverly. Yes, I'll meet you in town at two. Oh, Gil, don't forget Lucia's medicine. No, I won't. Goodbye, Lucia. Are you meeting Gil in town, Beverly? Yes, he wants me to decide on that filly he's interested in. Where did you learn so much about horse school? Seems to be natural. Why don't you get interested in horses, Lucia? Why should I? What are you interested in? Well, I am interested in a few things. My husband in particular. You don't act interested in anything. Really? Well, if you'll take my advice, you'll snap out of this coma and get some pep. Does Gil like women with pep? No man cares about a woman who sits around and molts. I think you're a hypochondriac. Do you? You should do something about it. I intend to. I intend to do something about it. Glad to hear it. Get out, do things, play games, golf, tennis, swim and ride. Maybe this medicine will fix you up. You know all about it, do you? What is it? I don't know. It's a tonic, a builder-upper. I wish I could believe that. But at least you can try it. Won't hurt you. No? I wonder. Come in, Dr. Handi. Well, Lucia, why did you call me out here? What's wrong? I just couldn't make it into town. Oh, it can't be as bad as all that. Did Gilbert talk to you about me yesterday? I saw Gil for a few moments at the club during lunch. Said you were run down. Did you give him a prescription for me? Oh, never do that until I've examined the patient. You didn't give him a prescription? Well, no. What did you suggest for me? Oh, I don't know. Mention a few tonics he might get for you. Spoke a beef iron and wine and curry and egg and, uh, I don't remember what else. Then you mentioned nothing specifically. I don't think so. I see. Now, that seems to be wrong with you, Lucia. I don't know exactly, but something has been happening to me that, well, frankly, I'm afraid I'm losing my mind. We all feel that way at times. I'm serious. Things happen to me in the night. What sort of thing? At first I thought they were just nightmares, but when you have a nightmare, you wake up and the fear is gone. You realize the truth. But this vision that comes to me haunts me through the waking hours as well. Vision? Something. I think it's a person. Comes through my bedroom door, comes toward my bed without stretched arms, as though it intends to strangle me. Each time it comes a little closer. And my fear is that eventually it will get to me before I wake up. See, you always dream the same dream? If it is a dream, yes. And who is the person? I don't know. You don't think it's really a dream? No. I think it's a premonition. Have you any basis for such a fear in real life? Is there someone or something that you're afraid of? Doctor, I'm convinced they're not dreams that I'm not asleep. Oh, not dreams. I'm positive they're not mere dreams. Well, I think it's all due to your run-down condition. You probably don't sleep as soundly as you should, so you transfer sounds in the night to dreams and nightmares. That's exactly what I mean. If I'm only half asleep, I may be transferring actual movements and sounds into dreams. In other words, if someone slams a door in the night, I may half hear it and attribute it to a dream. But then perhaps I'm not dreaming. Don't you see? I think you'd better come into town and have a thorough physical. Do you mean a checkup by a psychiatrist? Oh, I may have someone help me. It's the usual thing you know. Oh, no, Doctor. I'm behind so far. No, no, no, no. Everything's going to be all right. I'm afraid. Afraid that I'm going to die. That someone is trying to kill me. Oh, you're not going to die. That's ridiculous. I'll call you and make an appointment. That's better. Very well. In the meantime, try not to think about it. Keep your mind on the brighter side. Yes. I'll try. All afternoon and on into the evening, that awful knowing of jealousy and fear occupy every moment, gill and beveling. How could they do such a thing? And how far will they go to get you out of the way, Lucia? Will they stop even at murder? Are you asleep, Lucia? No. How are you feeling? I seem to develop headache. Have you eaten anything today? No. I didn't care for anything. Well, this will help you. But I'll take a dose now. I'll measure it for you. What is it? Point. It's the tonic. Did Dr. Hanby prescribe it? Yes. Yes, he did. Where's Beverly? Down in the library. Did you buy the horse? Yes. Beverly thought she was a fine animal. I didn't know Beverly knew so much about horses. She's a horsewoman after my own heart. Is she? Ride's like the wind, too. She had intended to go home tomorrow. Is she staying on? She's got to. I wouldn't think of her leaving now. Why not? Well, for one thing, she's going to train the horse. And what else? Why, nothing else. Here, take this. It's a little bitter, but you'll get used to it. You'll. Go ahead. It won't hurt you. I don't want it. And why not? It has poison in it. I suppose it does have a little, yes. But only enough to act as a tonic. I don't want it. I won't take it. Are you going to act like a child? Take it and quit arguing. I won't. I won't. Take it. Swallow it down. I can't take it. You're impossible to see. I'm afraid. You need this medicine, but you're so concomitantly stubborn, you'd rather sit around and mope all day. Very well, there it is. You can take it or not. I'm disgusted trying to help you pull out of this. Good night. No, no, no, no. Wait, Gila. I'll take it. I'll take it. I don't care whether you do or not. There. I've taken it. Terribly bitter. Well, that's more like it. Now I'll take another dose around 11. Gil, where's Mrs. Benson? Why, I told her she could have the night off, but she might like to spend the evening in town. You, you let her off. Yes, she's been sticking pretty close lately. Yes, yes, she has. Good night. Good night, Lucia. What's wrong, Gil? You look upset. I am. Lucia didn't want to take it. No, why not? She's afraid of medicine. What are you going to do? She finally took a dose of it. But if I know her, she'll never take another drunk. She's got to take it, Gil. You've got to figure out a way to make her take it. You can't be disguised. It's too bitter. Try something else. I'll try and coax her into it again. Isn't there something that tastes more pleasant, or something you could put in milk or orange juice? I'll find something. Of course you will. You've got to. She's... wait a minute. There's someone listening outside the door. Oh, oh, sir. Well, Benson, what are you doing standing here in the dark? Why, I was just going upstairs to see if Mrs. Durant wanted anything before I went out. I see. Now, by the way, I'm staying home for a couple of days, and I thought that since you've been staying so close to the job, you'd welcome a few days leave. Leave? Why, yes. But Mrs. Durant, me preferred that I stay. I think you'd better take a little rest yourself. You needn't come back till Friday. But I... I don't need to rest. You come back Friday. Yes, very well. But that night for once, the good Mrs. Benson disobeys orders. A few minutes before 12, she returns to the mansion. No lights are burning, so she makes her way quietly through the back entrance, slips up the stairs, and taps lightly on Lucia's bedroom door. Mrs. Durant? Mrs. Durant? Then she turns the knob, opens the door, and snaps on the light. Mrs. Durant, are you here? Then Benson steps quickly toward the bed. The bed is empty, but a horrible sight meets her eyes. Blood! Blood all over the bed! Oh, get me the police department. All right, Mrs. Benson, now just calm down and tell us what happened this evening. Well, earlier in the evening, Mr. Durant told me that I could have the night off since I'd been staying close to Mrs. Durant for some time. And then later he said he'd decided to let me off until Friday. I didn't want to go, but he insisted. Was there anyone else in the house? Yes, Mrs. Durant's half-sister, Beverly. Did you leave the house? Yes, but I sneaked up the back stairs and told Mrs. Durant I'd be back about midnight. Have you had till Friday? Why did you come back at midnight? Because we were both frightened. Of what? Well, Mrs. Durant had been having premonitions that someone was trying to kill her. Who was trying to kill her? She didn't know, but she was terribly frightened. Is that all? No. Her husband tried to get her to take some medicine he had brought home. She refused, and he got angry. How do you know he was angry? I heard him talking about it to Beverly. They were in the library, and he told Beverly that Lucia was stubborn. Beverly said that he'd have to think of some other way. Did Mrs. Durant suspect her husband and Beverly of trying to do away with her? Yes. Yes, she did. She was convinced that Mr. Durant and Beverly were in love and wanted her out of the way. See. Well, so you came back tonight because you anticipated that something was going to happen. Yes. The house was dark, so I came up the back stairs, knocked on her door. When I got no answer, I came in, turned on the lights, saw she was gone. And then I saw the bed all covered with blood. She wouldn't take the poison, so they did it another way. That's what they planned in the library. Where are they now? Any idea? Well, they didn't take the poison, so they did it another way. They didn't expect me back tonight, so they've probably gone to dispose of the body, intending to come back here and clean the place up later. I see. Anybody else know about Mrs. Durant's fears? Yes. She talked to Dr. Hanby. I called him right after phoning the police and told him about it. He knows. Dr. Hanby, Captain Blake, what in the world is the meaning of this? From all indications, Mrs. Durant has been murdered and the body is disposed of. Dr. Anderson and Mrs. Durant told you that she was afraid that something was going to happen to her, that she was going to die. Who told you that? Mrs. Benson here. I see. Well, she did call me in this morning. She'd been having strange dreams, premonitions she called them. I called them hallucinations. What do you think it was? She couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman, but someone was always approaching her bed without stretched arms, trying to choke. Do you think it was more than a dream? She was a sort of hypochondriac. I asked her to come in a town where I could give her a thorough examination. I didn't take her story too seriously, but this certainly puts a different slant on the entire picture. Yes, we haven't found the body, but I have men out looking now. We'll find it. Yes, Mr. Durant and his sister-in-law. They found them about half a mile down the beach. Oh, how are you, Durant? What in the world goes on here? What's wrong, Doctor? Take a look at that bed. What happened? Lucia. Where is she? We thought you might enlighten us on that point. What do you mean, where is she? It's Lucia dead. Oh, Gil, what? What happened? We think your wife has been murdered. Murdered? But what are you doing here, Mrs. Benson? I thought you were going to Friday. Why did you tell her to go on Friday? Well, I thought she needed a rest. She'd been having long hours. Where is Lucia? Where have you and your sister-in-law been? Well, I slipped upstairs and saw Lucia was asleep, so we decided to take a little ride down the beach. We're still early. Didn't take anything with you? Certainly not. What do you mean by that? What would we do? I don't know. I just asked. Did you two try to get Lucia to take some medicine? No. Wait a minute, Beverly. That won't do any good. Yes, we did. Lucia was run down and needed a tonic, but she refused to take medicine. Why did she refuse? I don't know. Maybe she was afraid of being poisoned. Poisoned? Why should I want a poison? Now, Lucia was my wife. How long has your sister-in-law Beverly been here with you? Well, I don't know. Just a minute. Are you inferring that Gil and I... I'm not inferring anything. I merely asked you questions. But Gil, tell him that... Just a moment, Beverly. Mrs. Benson, what have you been saying? What did you tell them? I told them the truth. You think I planned to kill Lucia? Is that it? Yes. You and this woman. You're out of your mind. You tried to get her to take some medicine. She knew you were in love with her, sister, and that you were trying to poison her. And how did she come to that conclusion? She had premonition. That means nothing. And besides, I heard you talking, you and Beverly planning the whole thing. What? She's lying. I heard you. And when you realized Lucia wouldn't take the medicine, Beverly said you'd have to think of some other way. Some other way to what? To get rid of her. To kill her. There must be some... Dr. Handy, you know better than this. Do you think I had a reason back of wanting to know about various medicines? Well, no. No, I didn't. Not at the time. But now... Now what? Well, sorry to say it all adds up to something suspicious. Seems more than just coincident. Do you think I killed Lucia? Look about you. Look at the room. What else am I to think? What was the tonic you tried to give your wife? It had stricter in it. That right, Durant? Yes. It was one of the things Dr. Handy mentioned. It was iron, fine iron, and stricter. Did you mention that, doctor? Well, I suppose I did. It's commonly known tonic. Did you add anything else to it, Durant? Certainly not. How about it, Sergeant? What's the report? The bottle contained iron, quinine, and spicklin, and a heavy content of arsenic. Arsenic? But that isn't possible. I put nothing in it. Where would I get arsenic? It was in there, just the same. What happens? Doctor, this isn't true. You know it isn't. I hate to see it, Gil. The evidence looks bad for you. Benson knows what this is all about. She's lying. She knows Gil wouldn't do such a thing. She's back of it all. Why? I don't know. But believe me, I'll find out if I have... That'll do. That'll do. Under the circumstances, I think it all better come down to headquarters so we can keep you separated. Come on. And no more talking. After 48 hours, hours of relentless grilling, endless questioning, Hill and Beverly are released on a writ of habeas corpus. Weeks go by, and Blush's body has not been discovered. So the district paternity makes a public announcement that no murder charges can be preferred against them due to lack of corpus delicti, the failure to produce the body, Blush's body. Then one evening, Beverly and Gil talk in the library. Beverly, I want you to know how wonderful I think you've been. Stuck right beside me, never lost your nerve, and, well, you're one girl in a million. Thanks, Gil, but it isn't over yet. They won't stop their search for Blush's body, and if they find it, we haven't a chance. I know, but what can we do about it? Well, why couldn't we leave the country? Together? Not necessarily. They'd be sure to follow us. We could go separately in different ways and... And meet someplace later on. Is that what you mean? Yes. That's what I mean. It seems a bit mad, but it'll be equal to an out-and-out confession. Oh, but Gil, if they find Blush's body, we haven't a chance. It's too strong against us. We could never come back, Beverly. What of it? I don't want to die, Gil, and I don't want anything to happen to you. Beverly, I... I'm frightened, Gil. I can't stay here. It was a horrible fear hanging over me. I'll go mad. If you don't go, then I will. I'll leave tonight. Please, Beverly, I need you more than ever now. Please don't go. Don't worry, Gilbert. She won't leave you. Blushia. Kevin's Blush. I won't let her leave you. I'll see that you both go together and stay together for a long, long time. Blushia, what? Blushia. We thought you were dead. Disappointed, aren't you? Where have you been? What are you going to do with that gun? You thought I was dead, but I'm not. I'm live enough to pull this trigger. I've been hiding for weeks, and I've been behind those curtains for the last 20 minutes. I heard every word. Now I know you're in love with each other. Now I know you wanted to do away with me. In love? Beverly and I... From the day she came here, she took you away from me. I did not. We never thought of such a thing. Never. Never at all, ma. Why lie about it? You've let your imagination run away with you, Blushia. You're insane. You think so? Well, if I am, it's your fault. Yours and Beverly's. You've driven me insane, both of you. I had a plan to get even with you to make you pay for what you've done, but it failed. What plan? You see, I didn't know about the law of corpus delicti, but I do know. And this time there will be a body. Two bodies. Yours and Beverly's. You're a suspicious-minded devil, Blushia. I plan to trap you on a murder charge. My murder. But it's going to be your murder now. You were convinced that Beverly and I were in love? Of course. I never needed a dream nor a premonition. I cut myself and smeared blood on the bed and disappeared. When I found they couldn't touch you without the corpus delicti, I came back to kill you. Blushia, you fool. You vicious-minded fool. I'm going to tell you something, and go ahead and shoot me if you will. Blushia, not until now, this very moment, has the thought of loving Beverly ever occurred to me. You've never loved Beverly. No. But I can tell you this, Blushia. Now that I've seen you as you really are, I could never love you again. Never. Kill me. Wait, Beverly. But I was sure I was convinced that you were Beverly. You were sure only because your warped jealous mind convinced you that there was something between us? You mean I- You certainly made a sorry mess of your life, Blushia. That I- All I've done is killed your love. Oh, Kill. Yes, Blushia. And you've no one to blame. No one but your own miserable self. Kill. Blushia, don't lose- Oh, Kill. Probably the best thing for her and for us. And so closes in fear and trembling, starring Metro Golden Mayor's Mary Aster, tonight's tale of suspense. The broadcast originated in Columbia Square in Hollywood. This is your narrator, The Man in Black, who conveys to you Columbia's invitation to spend this half hour in suspense with us again next Tuesday. When another of the screen's lovelier leading ladies, Geraldine Fitzgerald will star in the uneasy drama called Will You Walk Into My Parlor? William Spear, the producer, Ted Bliss, the director, Matt Glusken, the musical director, Lucian Morrowick, the composer, and J. Donald Wilson, the author collaborated on tonight's suspense. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.