 Now, Auto-Lite and its 60,000 dealers and service stations present Suspense! Auto-Lite brings you Mickey Rooney in The Lie, a suspense play produced and directed by Anton M. Lieder. Friends, get in step. Get a rep for Pep. Get Auto-Lite resistor spark plugs and do it now. Replace those narrow gap spark plugs with wide gap Auto-Lite resistor spark plugs. Your engine will idle smoother, give you better performance on leaner gas mixtures, actually save gas. That's right, actually save gas. Because those wide gap Auto-Lite resistor spark plugs give you better performance on leaner gas mixtures. Auto-Lite regular type spark plugs have long been standard factory equipment on many leading makes of cars and trucks. And now six, that's right, six of these leading makes of cars and trucks have switched to new Auto-Lite resistor type spark plugs for factory installation on their new 1949 models. The new Auto-Lite resistor spark plugs are the spark plugs of today and the future. Remember, you're right with Auto-Lite. And now Auto-Lite presents Mickey Rooney in a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Hey, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate, you got the gate. I shut up. I've been kicked out of better colleges. Son, why don't you leave that bottle alone? I know it's none of my business. Are you my father? Of course not, I'm only trying to. Well, then don't call me son. And you're right. It's none of your business. You fresh pup. If I were your father, I'd be ashamed to admit it. I watched where you got on, and it's in the middle of the semester, bounced out on your ear, weren't you? I know your type, taking everything you can get from the old man and not giving anything back, only grief and gray hair. Ah, shut up! You can stop Mansfield, put away that bottle, kid, you're home. Old hometown depot again. Didn't look friendly. Nobody was gonna look friendly. A whole-terms tuition fee shot for the third time. Well, Dad had tried to cover up what he felt. But she wouldn't. Not glad. I could hear already in my imagination. Oh, so you're home again. Guess you found out it was all a waste of time. They couldn't teach you anything at college. Maybe they ought to change things. Maybe they ought to learn from you. But make them pay, Marty, dear. Make them pay. Maybe we get back some of the money you've wasted. What do you think you are, a rich man's son? Well, I knew you from the day I married your father. And I expect to see the day when I have to send you cottons of cigarettes up to the pen. Well, I was gonna hear it again. No way of stopping that mouth. To break the ice I called home from the station. Busy. Five minutes later I called again. Busy. So I waited, and five minutes later I called again. Talking, talking, that's all she ever had under a peroxide. Talk, talk with a cheap crowd of hers. It wasn't my dad on the telephone. He was in Baltimore working. Well, I grabbed a bus and went home. You're lovin' stepson! Look at that. Didn't even bother to hang up the telephone. What a woman. Hello? What's that? Hello? Who is it? It was a man. It would be with her. Heard my voice. Thought it was dad and hung up. Dad had come home early today. Plenty of signs. There was the paper he always picked up in Baltimore. Cigarette stuff. I knew it was his. It was that awful Turkish brand he'd been smokin' since before I was born. No one else could stand. Yeah, he came home early. They must have gone out. I wandered into her bedroom. No reason. Just wandered. You know what I saw? She was curled up on the bed. Yes, Glad, curled up on the bed. So I had a cuddling there. No makeup. Her hair all glued up with that bleached stuff of hers, and she was dead. But dead. Somebody had broken her neck. If ever a man deserved a break, it's my dad. If ever a man deserved a decent, loving wife like my real mother, if ever a man deserved the kind of son fathers dream about instead of the mutt the rat I was turning out to be. Well, I didn't have much time for philosophizing. I got rid of the newspaper, cigarette butt. I must my hair, tore my clothes, picked up her dead hand with those purple cat-like fingernails, and I scratched it across my face. I think she was alive the way those nails dug in. And then I went to the phone. Hello, this is Martin Delavan calling from 22 Beach Street, South. Yeah. I think you better send somebody around to pick me up. I just murdered my stepmother. In radio's outstanding theater of thrills, suspense. Hey, that's quite a stack of letters you got. Yep, that's my fan mail, laudatory letters, pay-uns of praise. You mean people like you? Of course they like me because I tell them to replace old narrow-gap spark plugs with white-gap auto-light resistor spark plugs. And naturally they like auto-light resistor spark plugs once they try them. Here's one from Mr. W. E. Schmitz of Houston, Texas who writes, gentlemen, I recently switched to auto-light resistor spark plugs for my 1942 car. I've been trying other brands for years, but when I switched to auto-light, I can truthfully say I've never seen such an improvement in my 43 years in the automobile business simply by changing plugs. Well, from an automobile man, eh? From the sort of man who'd know that switching to auto-light resistor spark plugs means smoother idling, better performance on leaner gas mixtures, and actual saving of gas. And auto-light resistor spark plugs cut down spark plug interference with radio and television reception. All right, Harlow, but let's not interfere with the reception of suspends. And now, auto-light brings back to a Hollywood soundstage Mickey Rooney as Martin Delavan in The Lie, a tale well-calculated to keep you in suspense. Get cocky with me, young fella, and just remember that you put yourself in a jam that always turns out to be pretty rugged. Let's have the story again. Look, I've told it to you twice. Let's have it again. You don't have to play McTavish of Scotland Yard. You don't have to find the killer. I told you I did it. But you make it sound so exciting. Let's have it again. Okay, okay. Beginning where? You were expelled from college this morning, but drinking. They always expelled me for drinking. You took the early afternoon train at State Junction, got out here about six and telephoned from the station. Take it from there. The line was busy. I took a bus from the station. I came in without making any noise. It just didn't happen to make any. From the hall out there, I hear this... This... I heard my stepmother talking on the phone. To a man? Yes. How'd you know it was a man? I could tell. Smart boy. What was she saying? She... She said enough. I'd like to find out what makes enough. Well... What makes enough? The point when you put your hands around somebody's neck and start to squeeze. She was two-timing your father, huh? All right, go on. I guess I lost my hit. I remember grabbing her by the neck just as she heard me and turned around, and I remember her fingernails coming up toward my eyes and digging into my face. Would you say she did a good job on me? Yeah, look at these scratches. You did a better one on her. Well, this is about checks with what you said before. Good for me. You don't want to change anything? I want you to take me downtown and book me. There's no hurry. I want you to reenact this for us before our motion picture camera. Movies? That'll be fun. Hey, what's the matter? You don't look happy. Would it have pleased you more if you'd had to beat it out of me with a rubber hose? Maybe. Maybe it would. Handicap. Right here, Lieutenant, in the kitchen. Now, break out your camera. Somebody burned a newspaper in the kitchen stove. The ashes are still warm. Now, which paper? Can you make it out? No, no, no. The ashes are all stirred up. Did you burn a newspaper, kid? Yes. Why? Well, after I killed her, I got kind of a chill, and I thought it'd start a fire. And then you changed your mind. That's right. So you just waited for it to burn out and you just stirred up the ashes, huh? Listen, if people were always rational, they wouldn't come at murders. Oh, psychologists, too, huh? Okay, set up the first shot from the hallway, Endicott, as it comes in. Jack, where's your father, Delavan? Where can we reach him? I don't want him pulled into this. Leave him alone. Don't start jabbering at him, making things worse than they are. Get a hold of your blood pressure, Bob. It happens that you killed his wife. Now, where do we reach him? He's in Baltimore. Henry Delavan, company import and export. Commutes every day? Yeah, yeah, but he wouldn't be at his office now. It's long past closing time. All right, William. You like your old man, huh? Oh, I guess he passes. That's all? We haven't seen much of each other since he got married again. I get expelled from different colleges, and he bulls me out, and I ride him for checks, and he sends them. Mm-hmm. Okay, let's make our try for the Oscar, shall we? You just go through the motion starting at the door exactly as it happened. Without my makeup, Lieutenant? Very funny. Except there's a dead woman in the bedroom. You better change your attitude, kid. Who's this? It's my father, please. Take it easy with him. Dad! Dad! What's going on in my house? Come on in. What are you doing here this time of year? Let me break into him my way. Where's Glad? Where's your mother? What are all the police doing around here? Marty, speak up. All right. I'll give it to you straight. She's dead. What? What do you mean? You know what dead means? She's dead. I killed her. No, no, Marty. Don't say that. It isn't true. You... I killed her! How would you know anything about it? You were in Baltimore. You were in Baltimore, weren't you? Gentlemen, please. I'm Lieutenant Steele. Lieutenant, don't listen to my boy. He couldn't have possibly... Don't try to tell anybody what I couldn't have done. You know, I always wanted to kill her. Anyway, you weren't here. You were in Baltimore until now at your office. I wasn't in my office. Dad! I didn't feel very well or long about noon. I quit for the day. May I see my wife, please? In the bedroom. And what did you do for the rest of the day, Mr. Delevent? You don't have to answer that, Dad. You don't have to say anything. I've signed a full confession, Dad. I went into a Turkish bath, and I stayed there for several hours. Yeah, we can check that easily enough. Of course. I'm sorry to say that my son is right, Lieutenant. I wasn't here. When you commit a crime, it's as though someone snapped a switch and the sun went out. Now you live in shadow. You wear faded blue denims with your number on them. You're surrounded by so much iron. Doors and bars in your bed you sleep on. You weigh every word before you say it. Because it might make the difference between living and dying. Most of the time you're angling to live. By the time I was through, I'd made sure I would die. You did a bad thing, Marty. Why did you do it? The important thing is that I did it. That's what we've got to keep remembering. Now don't let me down. You haven't said anything, have you? About what? About you. What's there to say? What's there to... Oh. Oh, I get it. I get it. Swell. Swell, we'll keep it that way. Oh, I suppose I ought to be able to understand what you're trying to say, Marty, but I can't. I'm so confused. They keep hammering away at me, trying to break down my story where I was. Well, that Turkish bath routine wasn't very bright. They can check on that dad. They did. There's no question about that, Marty. I was there. When? All that afternoon, from two until five. Who says you were there? Beside yourself? Well, the cleric, the attendants, the rubbers. Now, they all know me, Marty. I've been going there every Wednesday for months. This couldn't be true. Everything else about the whole nightmare could have happened. It was happening. But not this. He had killed her. He must have killed her. I'd hung a perfect frame on myself because he did it. What's the matter, son? Dad, how would that days ball of more paper get into our house before you came home? Well, it's delivered to me. I buy one in the morning to read it on the way in, and the one that's delivered, I read in the evening at home. It's that simple. And I suppose you're going to tell me that since I've been away, Gladys learned how to smoke those Turkish blowtorches. No, but well, you know how chain smokers are, son. They're bound to run out of their own brand some time, and they'll smoke anything they can get their hands on. Anything they can get? Oh, sure. Anyone could figure that out. But why talk about newspapers and cigarettes, Marty? We have only five minutes together. No, don't talk about anything. What a jump I've been. What a sap. Oh, Dad, Dad, you don't know. I know only one thing, Marty, that you didn't do it. How do you know that? Well, who would have known better? What does that mean? Why, you're my boy. Oh, you've been wild, but that was because you were so hurt when I remarried. And when she turned out to be what she was. Oh, you don't have to keep reminding me of that, son. Oh, I'm sorry, Dad, I'm sorry. Anyway, I know my boy Marty. And you didn't kill her. Makes no difference, Dad. I got an airtight case against me. I'm gonna fry just as crisp as though I did it. I never thought for more than a second that you killed her, Marty. The way you kept jabbering, you were in Baltimore. I was here. You were in Baltimore. Like a needle stuck in a wrecking. Oh, what can we do now, Lieutenant? Do? Well, it's out of my hands. You got a trial. Trial? For what? You say you know I didn't kill her. Listen, kid, you framed yourself too well. You didn't leave a shred of evidence that points to the real killer. You had a motive. You cleaned up every trace of someone else, and now that someone else is laughing up his sleeve. But, wait a minute, they can't convict me and execute me for a crime I didn't commit. Take it easy, kid. Take it easy. You mean take the rap? You mean you'd like me to sit with my hands folded like a good little boy and let him shave my skull, slit open my pants like because somebody else broke her neck? Well, have you got a real idea who that somebody could be? How would I know? You think I ran around with her friends? I never saw one of them. But I'll bet you had a little black book that was so full it was spilling old. The danger of this thing is out of my hands. According to police routine... But we're talking about a life! Don't you understand my life! And I'm trying to tell you that you're talking to the wrong man. See the DA, kid. He's the only one who can help you. Every word of my confession was a deliberate lie, sir. A lie. See, I dictated it, and I reenacted the whole thing before the camera because I thought I was protecting someone else. A real murder? No. No, but I thought so at the time. Is this somebody's name? I'd rather not tell you that. Why not if he's innocent? Because I don't want him dragged through the mud. Here's the report you've been waiting for, sir. Oh, thanks, and again. Yes. Now, look, Delefinne, I'm too busy to play games. This report establishes beyond doubt that it was your skin and blood under her fingernails. That clinches it for me. But wait a minute, don't you... That's all. I'll see you at the trial. And I guess you know how it'll come out. So callous was this killer, so consciousness, that not only did he freely admit his guilt, he willingly reenacted the whole ghastly thing before the police department's camera, as you've seen. Far from showing remorse for his crime, he gloried in it. You know the evidence. His fingerprints, his blood under her nails. I ask that you return a verdict that will make mandatory the extreme penalty. Death for Martin Deleman. I'm gonna die. Dad. Dad. Find a way out for me, would you? I don't know where to turn, Marty. I'd give my life to save you. Would you, Dad? Would you sometimes... You know, people just use that expression. I sometimes wonder if they really would do a thing like that. Isn't that what you did for me? It's such a shame, Marty, that this should happen to us because of her. The only good thing she ever did was to bring us together again. By dying. Then... you knew all about her. For a long time. But I kept hoping... Well, maybe she didn't appreciate you, Dad, but... but I do. You're not so bad yourself. Dad. Yeah? It's probably too late, but... one part of my story was true. She had been talking to somebody. What? The receiver was off the hook and there was still a party on the other end. Who was it? I picked up the receiver and I said, Hello? I heard a funny kind of gasp and then a click. But, Dad, don't you see? It means somebody's ear was in on that murder. We've got a witness. Somebody who knows I didn't do it. He and the guy who murdered her. All right. Time's up, kid. We have just another five minutes. We've got rules here, mister. I'm just the right guy to be worried about rules. Shove off, will you? Come on, now. Wait a minute. Shove off, will you? Dad, did you try everything? Try everything. Take your hands off of me! No, leave me. Hey, Joe, come on. Dad, help me. Come on, Marty, tell me what to do. Help me, Dad. Marty, tell me how to help you. Steal! Steal, Dr. Steal. Tell him about the phone call. Tell him we've got a witness. Dad, remember, it's a matter of time. I haven't got much time. Boys' life depends on this and we haven't got much time either. Is there anything I can do to help? Fine, now let's see. It was around six in the evening when Marty Delavan got off the train and tried to call home. Uh-huh. He got a busy signal. Let's give ourselves a break and say it was the same party who was on the line when he came home. Could you trace that call? I can try, Lieutenant. A call that long would have plenty of overtime on it. Well, stretch it out a little, kind of narrow down the field. Say, uh, five minutes before he called, another 10 before he gave up, another 10 to get out to the house on the bus and then coming in, looking around, finding the receiver off the hook. Say, uh, say 45 minutes. Oh, my gosh. It's a matter. I just happened to think. What have Mrs. Delavan put in that call? You'd have a record of it, but the charge would be on her bill. That wouldn't show the name of the person she was calling. Those are the breaks. I'll see what I can do. Hello. Hello, Lieutenant. Oh, what did you find? Well, William J. Simmons. Sure. What? You see, he never stopped saying we were cheating on her telephone and make a record of every number she called. Fine. Fine. But, uh, what was that name? Beginning. Mrs. Delavan talked for 39 minutes to a subscriber named William J. Simmons. 798 Shore Avenue. That kid isn't any of the things she called him in the courtroom. I know. And I couldn't stand by and see him fry for a murder he didn't commit. Still, you're a fine detective, but a little too much of an optimist. Now, this weasel you brought in here, his story is only as good as the amount of proof you can attach to it. Look, I'm no weasel. I didn't want to get mixed up in this because I got a wife and kid, see? You know what it means if your wife finds out you've been playing around? Tell it into the Dictograph. Huh? How do I start? With your name. Um, uh, William J. Simmons, 798 Shore Avenue. Okay. You were acquainted with Mrs. Gladys Delavan? Yes. You were in love with her? Well, in a way. Tell us what you heard over the telephone at six o'clock on the evening she was murdered. Well, we were talking. Just talking. See, about... about how we felt. Suddenly, I hear this guy's voice on the phone somewhere off in her house. He yells, Where were you yesterday? We had a date, didn't we? Then he comes closer, still yelling. What did he say? Oh, all kinds of stuff. Names, things like that. Then she begins to scream, Don't Steve. Don't, you're hurting me, Steve. I can tell he's got her by the neck. He's choking her. I can tell he's choking her. Come on, kid, on your feet. Is it... Is it time? Time for what? You know... I don't know anything. You're wanted in the warden's office. Come on. What? What's up? Search me. Hey, that's pretty good. I'm the guard, you're the prisoner, but I say you search me. Yeah, do you know who's with the warden? Well, that local dick, Steve. McTavish of Scotland Yard. A couple of other guys in your old man. My father. My father. What... What do they want with my father? Search me. Hey, I said it again. We ought to hold you for obstructing justice, young fellow, but I suppose you and your father have suffered enough. So it was somebody else. Somebody else all the time. Your description of the murdered lady was very accurate. She got around. Who... Who is he? How'd you find him? Well, that's a pretty terrific story, Marty. You see, we traced the guy who was on the phone and he heard Mrs. Delavan holler the name Steve. Now, a detective has to be smart. He's got to be a psychologist, a science bug, an incredible kind of a guy who can take the name Steve and pick a murderer out of 140 million people. So how did I do it? Well, how? I opened a little black address book. Remember you tipped me after that and looked for a guy named Steve and there he was, Steve Barton. So I picked him up. McTavish of Scotland Yard. And this time of the real confession. How do you feel now, son? I don't know. I've done so much thinking about what it means to die that I'm not sure which world I'm standing in. Now tell me, kid, what was the name of that newspaper you burned and who did smoke that cigarette? Dad, is all this on the level? On the level, Marty. Well, just to keep it on the level, gentlemen, it was the Baltimore Star, the paper my dad always reads and the cigarette was his favorite brand. Maybe you understand now. Come on, Dad, take me home. Thank you, Mickey Rooney, for a splendid performance. It was fun to do. Say, hollow, I've heard great things about some new award suspensors received. Well, yes, Mickey. The Alfred P. Sloan Award for the Outstanding Radio Program in 1948 Promoting Highway Safety was awarded to CBS and Auto Light last week. Well, say, wasn't that the Jimmy Cagney Suspense Show of last December? Right, Mickey, and coincidentally enough, last week the National Safety Council announced a similar award to Auto Light for the same program and for their promotion of safety on the highways. Wow, that's great going. And it reminds me, haven't I often heard an announcement on this show? Let's see, how does it go? Oh, yeah, I know. Drive carefully. The life you save may be your own. That's right, Mickey. Yes, Auto Light is proud to lend support to the promotion of Highway Safety. They're proud, too, of the more than 400 products for cars, trucks, airplanes, and boats that are made in 28 Auto Light plants from coast to coast. And Auto Light also makes complete electrical systems for many makes of America's finest cars, batteries, spark plugs, generators, starting motors, coils, distributors, all engineered to fit together perfectly, work together perfectly, because they're a perfect team. So folks, don't accept electrical parts that are supposed to be as good. Ask for and insist on Auto Light, original factory parts, at your neighborhood service station, car dealer, garage, or repair shop. Remember, you're always right with Auto Light. Now again, here is Mickey Rooney. It's been a real pleasure to be here and I'll be listening next week when Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills presents Bob Hope in Death Has a Shadow. Another gripping study in... Suspense! Mickey Rooney appeared by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, producers of the Technicolor picture Little Women, starring June Allison, Peter Lawford, Margaret O'Brien, and Elizabeth Taylor. Tonight's suspense play was based on a story by William Irish and adapted by Herb Meadow. Music was composed by Lucian Morrowake and conducted by Lud Blusken. The entire production was under the direction of Anton M. Lieder. In the coming week, suspense will present such stars as James Stewart, Claire Trevor, Frederick March, and many others. Make it a point to listen each Thursday to suspense, Radio's Outstanding, Theatre of Thrills. And next Thursday, same time, hear Bob Hope in Death Has a Shadow. You can buy Auto Light resistor spark plugs, Auto Light safe fold batteries, and light electrical parts at your neighborhood Auto Light dealers. Switch to Auto Light. Good night! This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.