 Another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. The city that was written for suspense by Richard Weill. When you need someone to do a specific type of job, you hire someone specially trained to do that job. After all, this is an age of specialization. But what you may not know is that right now, there are several hundred thousand men and women who have received special training and are searching for employment. Now these folks, many of whom are veterans, have physical handicaps, which actually often makes them better able to fill specific jobs. That sound strange? Well, maybe so, but here's the explanation. These men and women, recognizing their shortcomings, have sought and received special rehabilitation and training in specific areas of work. They are highly skilled because they've been taught to make best use of the physical and mental abilities they possess. So if you're looking for help, contact your state employment service and ask about physically handicapped workers. Employing the physically handicapped is good business. It is now 50 years since the first motion picture was made amidst the orange groves of a sleepy little California village called Hollywood, and a latter-day gold rush began. Hollywood quickly became a sprawling, brawling boom town and true to the tradition of the Western frontier, a tradition it helped to create and has fondly fostered, Hollywood lived violently, and not a few of its citizens died violently with and sometimes without their boots on. The stakes were high, worldwide fame and undreamt of fortune, and the passions that poured onto the silver screen sometimes spilled over into private lives with lethal results. In a moment, this city that was the place by Richard Wyre. This Halloween, when your doorbell rings, give those little trick or treaters a treat they'll never forget. Snap their picture and give them a print. But before next Monday night rolls around, get several packs of Sylvania blue dot flash bulbs, the world's largest selling brand. Because only with flash can you catch all the fun and color of Halloween. Only with flash can you get all the clear shock details. What's more, flash bulbs work with any film, any time, day or night, anywhere with any camera. So this week, when you're out shopping, be sure and ask for Sylvania blue dot flash bulbs. And also ask for your free 32-page flash guide book designed by Sylvania to help you take better flash pictures. Remember, it's yours free with the purchase of only one pack of Sylvania blue dots. But hurry, the witches will be flying before you know it. So get your Sylvania blue dot flash bulbs today. Hollywood of 35 years ago. There was a town for you. It flamed with color. It bubbled with intrigue. And it frequently simmered with sin. Gods and goddesses strolled the boulevard in those days and rode to the studio in their $20,000 custom-built Rolls Royce. It was the era of Valentino and Mabel Norman and Wallace Reed of Barbara Lamar and William Desmond Taylor and William S. Hart and the great vamps, Nita Naldi, Paula Negre, Peter Barrow. It was the era too of Anthony Kendall. Matt and A. Idle turned movie king and his leading lady, Rena Shelfante, who used to be called the golden flame of the silver screen. You must remember that. And how they were tied up with the Corsica killing. All the facts of that course, celebra, were not told at the time, but they can be told now. And this is what really happened, that rainy night in November, 35 years ago. Tony and Rena had finished a long day's shooting. It was nearly 7 o'clock when Tony tooled his big white Cunningham Roadster into the driveway of his Whitley Heights estate. He stopped the car under the arch of the entrance gate and was reaching for the electric control button. Then a masked figure with a gun stepped out from the darkness. All right. Hold it right there. What is this? It's the end of the line for you, big shot. Oh, no. Oh, yeah. Here's where your boyfriend gets what's coming to him. Tony, it's Bart Maloy. Well, that wasn't very smart to recognize me, Rena. Now you go with him. All right, Bart. Cut the melodrama. You're drunk. Now go on home and sleep it off. We'll see you at the studio tomorrow. There isn't going to be any tomorrow for you two, because I'm going to... Look out, Bart, behind you. Let go of that gun, Bart. Let go of it. Oh, you don't. I said I can't. No, it's safe. It's better. Now I'll just unload it so nobody can get hurt. Here. You can have it back now. Now go on home and get some shut-eye. I'll see you in the morning. So you can fire me in front of the whole crew? How did you know we were going to... Not we. You. I heard all about it an hour ago. Alec Benson didn't want to let me out. You're the one who cut my throat. So you might as well call the cops and do the complete job on me. I have no intention of calling the cops. Why not? That would make your day perfect. Look, Bart, suppose we forget all about this, hmm? All three of us. Right, Rena? Of course. Gee, that's big of you. Both of you. Maybe someday I can pay you back. Now go on home, Bart. You need sleep. Sure, that's all I need. Just a little sleep. And thanks, Tony. Thanks for everything. Tony. Yes, Tony. Would you mind driving me straight on home? Well, what about dinner? Oh, I don't feel much like eating now. I just want to go home. All right. All right. Tony. Tony. Why did you put Barton on the picture in the first place? He was on the skits. There wasn't a casting director in town who'd hire him. You and your big heart. Don't you know that the surest way to make a man hate you is to do him a kindness? Maybe. But he promised he'd go on the wagon. So the first day he showed up pink-eyed as a rabbit and chewing clothes to camouflage the smell of whiskey. He's always chewed clothes as long as I've known it. Sure he has. It's the trademark of an alcoholic. Tony. You know, he scares me. No, don't be silly, Donny. Bart may be lush, but he's not a murderer. In just a moment, we will return for the second act of... Suspense. The people come in to me and they say, Otto, you were once a great chef. Because I am now selling meat in my butcher shop, one sometimes forgets I know lots about cooking meat, too. Though I'll let you in on a little cooking secret of mine. French's Worcestershire sauce. Aha. Only French's Worcestershire has in it a collection of spices the Germans know accentuates the good flavor of meat. French's also has soy and chopees, tamarins. I could go on and on. What these ingredients do to everyday food? Mouth watering. May I suggest you try this with pot roast? Add one tablespoon French's Worcestershire to each cup of gravy. Ah, would you believe the difference? With French's, you really spark up your meals. And people will say, my goodness, but you're a wonderful cook. Just as they used to say to me. Of course, Bart Malloy didn't take Tony's advice and go home. The evening was still young, and in his misery he needed company. So he headed for Henry's on Hollywood Boulevard. Everybody went to Henry's in those days. He was packed every night with actors, directors, writers, producers, come to see and be seen, and the partake of Henry's wonderful turkey sandwiches, his fabulous German pancakes, and his fragrant coffee. Malloy is down in cup after cup of it now, each one generously laced with whiskey from his hip flask. Also, he's airing his grievances to Fritz, the friendly waiter who knows him well. So I take a drink, one measly drink, and he tosses me off the picture. It's a louse, that's what he is. Star-spangled louse. Ah, nine, Mr. Malloy. Oh, Mr. Kendall's a fine gentleman, a real fine gentleman. I'll tell you something, Fritz. I'm going to fix your fine gentleman's wagon for him, if it's the last thing I ever do. Oh, you shouldn't say such things, Mr. Malloy, especially in such a time as this. Just as soon as he's finished his picture, he won't, Mr. Alfante will be... Yeah, I know. Maybe I ought to figure out a nice present for him, huh? Ah, that sounds better, Mr. Malloy. You know something? I always thought Mr. Shelfante would make that Russian dirt. Oh, what is it? Corsica. Oh, yeah, yeah. Sergei Corsica, yeah. She were crazy about each other until Tony came along. Fritz, you may not know, but you just gave me a terrific idea. Mark Malloy lost no time in putting this terrific idea into action. First, he telephoned the director, Sergei Corsica, and made a date to drop by his apartment later that evening. Then he called Rainer Shelfante and employed his not inconsiderable talent as a mimic. Oh, this is Hollywood 2749? Yes, it is. May I speak please with Mrs. Shelfante? I'm Dr. Von Kesselring, Dr. Friedrich von Kesselring. This is Mrs. Shelfante, doctor. I am Mr. Corsica's physician, Mrs. Shelfante. I have a regret to say some unhappy news for you. Well, is something the matter with Sergei? He has suffered a coronary occlusion. Lloyd counted on the rainy streets and the fact that Rena had to come all the way in from Beverly Hills to give him the time he needed with Corsica. Five minutes later, he pulled up in front of the Russian director's house high on the Hollywood Hills. Well, not exactly in front of the house, for it perched 60 feet above the streets and reached by a private elevator which opened on the sidewalk. A very futuristic Hollywood show place at the time, this hideaway of the mad Russian. Well, I pushed the bell. The elevator door clicked open. And a moment later, he stepped out of the cage into Sergei Corsica's living room. Hello, Sergei. How are you, my friend? It's good to see you. Good to see you. How's this a lousy night? For me, it's perfect. I sit before the fire and I try to solve a chess problem. You will have some tea. Over there is some water. Tea? Also brandy, whiskey, vodka. Choose it for yourself. Well, maybe just a little one. You know, cut the fog. Good. Now, sit down and tell me why you call me. Well, Sergei, I need some advice. Why would you like to... It's like this. I'm going to come out of this picture I'm on with quite a bit of dough. You told me you'd been buying real estate, remember? No. I have quite a bit of property in Santa Monica. Santa Monica, that's too far out. Like the San Fernando Valley. Can't tell me that people are ever going to go all the way out there. Hey, I thought you said you were going to be alone tonight. I expect no one. Maybe your luck is changing, huh, boy? Well, don't get up. I'll send the elevator back down. And I'll just slip out the service entrance. But I assure you... Yeah, I know. I know. Probably your maiden aunt just in from Vladivostok. Just the same, I'll go out the back way so as not to embarrass the lady. You have it a dirty mind, my friend. I would suggest that you... But what does it mean? The gun. I guess you might say it means... Goodbye, Sergei. Malloy moved fast now. He wiped his fingerprints from the smoking gun and from the whiskey glass. Then he dropped the gun to the floor and headed for the service entrance. He was gone when the elevator stopped and Rena walked into the living room to discover Sergei's bullet-riddled body sprawled on the floor. When the police arrived, summoned by a neighbor they heard the shooting. They found her there. She's gone in hand, kneeling over the body, sobbing over and over. In a moment, we'll return for the third act of suspense. Hi, this is Dennis James with a long-time favorite. Yes, the long-time favorites are usually the best, aren't they? And one favorite folks have relied on over the years is Kellogg's All-Brand. Since 1919, America's favorite natural laxative cereal. Kellogg's All-Brand is the safe, gentle way to overcome irregularity caused by lack of bulk in your diet. It tastes good, too, and it never gets mushy in milk. There's only one All-Brand, Kellogg's All-Brand. So relieve constipation the way millions do with Kellogg's All-Brand. A, double L, hyphen, B-R-A-N. Yes, you're so right to stay regular with Kellogg's All-Brand. Try it, okay? Okay. They allowed Rena Chalfante one phone call. Naturally, she called Tony Kendall. But there wasn't much he or his attorney could do for him since there's no bail on a murder charge. So Tony went to the scene of the crime and there he found that an old friend of his was in charge of the investigation, Sergeant Kay of homicide. I'm sorry, Tony, but it just don't look good for your girlfriend. But Rena is no killer. It's not for me to say. I can only go by the evidence I find and... Well, it all points to her. But where's the motive? Rena had no motive. She might have. What do you mean? Well, this is just a theory, of course. All right, all right. Let's have it. You may not like it, Tony. I told you. Go ahead. Well, she and Korsakov were... well, they were pretty good friends before you came along, right? Yeah. So maybe he's still in love with her. Maybe he doesn't want her to marry her. Maybe he threatens to do something to stop the wedding. I see. And maybe she shoots him. Right. Wrong. Rena is not a killer. Maybe, but it looks like she did it. You've been all over the place, I suppose. Stam to stern. And everything strictly copacetic. Except for a whiskey glass with no fingerprints on it. A what? This one right here. Somebody had to shot a bourbon out of it and then wiped off the prints. Wait a minute. Sergei didn't drink. He didn't? Well, then maybe your girlfriend... Here we go. That may be routine again. Now, Marty, for your information, Rena isn't a drinker either. That samovar over there is more in her line. Oh, so that's what you call that thing? What's it for? For making tea. Russian style. Yeah, what's, uh... what's all this stuff in these little sauces? Oh, lemon peel, cinnamon, rose petals, cloves. They put it in a tea. All at once? No. One at a time. Oh. I think Korsakov must have been a clove boy. We found a lot of them on a floor. Clothes, hmm? And a whiskey glass. Yeah. You got a theory? Maybe I have. What is it? I'll let you know when I've proved it. In just a moment, we will return for the concluding act of... Suspense. You know, there are millions of motorists in this country. Most of them are careful law-abiding drivers who are smart enough to know that it pays to be careful, but it takes only one careless act to cause a serious accident. So don't break the law of the road or the law of averages. Drive carefully all the time. First of all, don't speed. More highway deaths are caused by excess speed than by anything else. Second, drive with your head as well as with your hands and feet. Use sound judgment in your driving and develop good driving habits. And finally, be courteous. Don't be afraid to give the other fellow a break. You will both live longer. And here are a few pointers for safer driving. Pass the car ahead only when you're absolutely sure it's safe. Don't take chances. Always allow plenty of space between your car and the car ahead. At least one car length for every 10 miles per hour you're traveling. And at night, dim your bright lights when approaching another car. Now by following these safety rules, you can help cut down on accidents. Tony Kendall was in makeup and on the set at 8 o'clock the next morning. The cameras were in place and the lights were all set up for the climax scene of Passion Lost, the big fight scene. Alec Benson, the director, greeted Tony with the long face usually reserved for funerals. Oh, Tony, I just heard about Rena. All right, all right, save your sympathy. She's innocent. Oh, of course. But what's it going to do to our shooting schedule? You're just chock full of compassion, aren't you? Well, I mean... I was the great man this morning. Good morning, Bart. I was going to lower the boom. You were Alec. Well, Bart... I told you last night we'd forget all about it, Bart. I thought you meant... You're still on the picture, Bart. But Tony, I've already hired... You heard me, Alec. Tony, I don't know what to say. Let's save it. Let's get on with the fight scene. Okay. Now, this has got to top any fight scene that's ever been photographed. Sam, I can't hear myself... We've got to make this brawl in the spoilers look like a chorus boy's picnic. Now, I want... Look where you're going, knucklehead. Don't trip over those cables. Will you please knock it off, Sam? You make more noise than the hammers. Sorry, Mr. Benson. Now, let's get the suspense of the fight in the tolerable David, the brutality of Noah Birrian, the seawolf, the cruelty of... Look, Alec, why don't you let Bart and me sort of work it out by ourselves first? Then we'll tell you how we see it and if it's okay with you, we'll try and take. Well, all right. Just call me when you're ready. Fine. Come on, Bart. Let's block out the action. We begin here on the balcony when I find you coming out of Helena's room. Sure. Now, uh, you go for your gun, but before you can get it out from under your Tony. Yes. I, uh... I want to thank you for keeping me on the pictures all right, Bart. Now, as I was saying, when you, uh... I want you to know how sorry I am about Rena. Are you really? Are you really sorry? I sure am. Rena's one of the greatest... Then you'll be happy to know that she did not kill Kosikov. No. Then, uh... Who did? Why, you did, Maloy. You killed him. What? It must be out of your mind. Well, but I want... You killed him. And then you framed Rena. You did it for revenge. To get back at me. You're talking like a maniac. What about the clothes that dropped out of your pocket onto the... Kosikov had clothes, too. They were by the samurai. That does it. You were there, Maloy, weren't you? You killed him. Try and prove it. I won't have to prove it. You're going to admit it. I am, huh? That's right. I am going to beat the truth out of you right now. Keep away from me, Kendall. Keep away. I'm going to beat the face of you. Oh, for the love of... Wait a minute, Tony. Hold it, boys, until we can say it. Hold it, Mr. Spencer. Oh, wow. What a wallop. You look real, didn't it? Well, what are you standing there for? Let's get down on film. Bring it up from your heels. Let me straight, or I will kill you right here and now. Go a little easy on that strangle, Tony. They sense as an eye, or I may squawk about it. Come on, Maloy. I realize I'm only the director around here. But even so, would you mind letting me in on it? Tell them, Maloy. Tell them, or I'll... I killed Kosikov. All right. Call Marty Kay, will you? Tell him we've got his killer for him. You better have a couple of the boys keep an eye on Maloy until he gets here. What are you going to do? Me? I'm going over and get my girl out of the jailhouse. And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, a story out of the Hollywood of the 20s, the city that was. As you know, Reiner and Tony Kendall are still one of the film capital's happiest couples. As a matter of fact, I had tea with them last week. Reiner served from a great brass samovar and I had my choice of sugar and cream and rum, of course. And then there were little china bowls filled with slivers of lemon peel and dried rose petals and sticks of cinnamon. But do you know something strange? There weren't any clothes. Suspense. You have been listening to the city that was written for suspense by Richard Weil. In a moment the names of our players and a word about next week's story of suspense. Americans want peace and world friendship. And one of the most effective ways to achieve this ideal is to form personal international friendships. To people all over the world, the United States is a land of wonder. They want to know more about us, how we live, what our homes and schools are like, what we do in our leisure time. Well, these people are anxious to correspond with you to become international pen friends. You can enrich your life and make a new friend for yourself and your country by striking up a correspondence with someone overseas. So, if you're between 16 and 60, drop a note giving your name, address, age, and a few facts about yourself to Letters Abroad, 45 East 65th Street, New York 21, New York, and close a self-address stamped envelope. And that address again is Letters Abroad, 45 East 65th Street, New York 21, New York. Paired in tonight's story were House Jameson as the narrator, Michael Cain as Bart Malloy, Martha Greenhouse as Reena, Bernard Grant as Kendall, and also included in the cast were Danny Aco, Sam Raskin, and George Petrie. Listen again next week when we return with The Green Lorelei by George Bamber, another tale well-calculated to keep you in...