 Suspense, presented by Roma Wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Salute, your health, sir. The world toasts Roma, and Roma toasts the world. The wine for your table is Roma, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is the man in black here for Roma Wines. To introduce this weekly half hour of suspense. Tonight in Hollywood are stars are Mr. Robert Young and Margo. The suspense play which stars Robert Young and Margo, and which is produced and directed by William Spear, is A Tale of Ordeal by Fire by Cornel Woolridge. And so with the night reveals and with the performances of Robert Young and Margo, Roma again hopes to keep you in suspense. Tell us the story, Mr. Jordan. Might help to get it out of your system. Yes. Go ahead, Harry. What? Tell it here, Marie, in front of you? Sure, I can stand it if you can. Well, all right. I'll tell it from when I first began to know, for sure, two weeks ago. I should have known before that something was wrong. I should have known by her eyes. It was a queer look in them, staring at me one minute and avoiding me the next. Well, I came home late one Monday night. They were asleep, my son Johnny, and my wife here, Marie. I lay in bed reviewing my day's work. You see, I'm an investigator for the Herkimer Fire Insurance Company. And while thinking about the fire on 2nd Avenue, I fell asleep. Suddenly, I was sitting bolt upright, wide awake. The strange feeling of being alone in the room. I looked towards Marie's bed. It was too dark to see. I called Marie. Marie! There's no answer. I got up and walked to her bed. The quilt was bunched up. I pulled the covers down. The bed was empty. In the bathroom. No, she wasn't there. And not in Johnny's room, either. Johnny was alone. Marie wasn't in the apartment. I put on the light and looked at my watch. It was 2 in the morning. I got dressed and walked out and rang for the elevator. It was nothing. Of course, it was nothing important, but my heart kept hammering away. Morning, Mr. Jordan. Kind of late for the... Yes, good morning, Steve. Did you see my wife go down? Yes, Mr. Jordan. About half an hour ago, I'd say. Yes, that's of course. Did you see which way she went? Yes, she went towards 3rd Avenue. Said she was going to... Yes, that's right. There's one over on 96th Street. Open all night. Thanks. That was it. She went to the drugstore. I was worried over nothing at all. I didn't know what to do quite. I didn't want to follow her, but the elevator boy was watching me, so I strolled easily along towards 3rd Avenue. I stood on the deserted dark corner and looked up and down the street. Then I saw her coming. She was walking towards me briskly. Harry, what are you doing here? I got up and saw you were gone. I couldn't sleep. I had a dreadful headache, so I decided to go down for some aspirin. Yes. Yes, of course. The drugstore on 96th Street. But you were coming from 98th Street. I took a little walk. I thought some fresh air would do me some good. Yes, it is a nice night. I've only been gone about ten minutes. Steve says you were gone about a half hour. It was only ten minutes. What time is it now? 235. I've been out for almost 15 minutes. Oh, it's more than... It was 15 minutes. No more than that. Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Everything seemed all right. Still, I felt something was wrong. We got into our apartment and we both went to bed. For a minute or so, we said nothing. You've been working hard, Harry. Don't you think you ought to take a week off and sort of rest up? Oh, I feel perfectly all right, dear. There's nothing wrong with me. Listen. A fire. A fire. Yes, not far. Over east a couple of blocks by the river, I'd say. That's my district. A fire. Oh, what the... Hello. Hello. Between 2nd and 3rd, Mr. Parmitter? An apartment building? Yeah, nice. Okay, Mr. Parmitter. Good night. A fire on 98th Street? Yeah, I couldn't see Marie in the dark. I knew she was staring at me. I was very tired. Good night, Marie. Good night, Harry. This is a story of a husband and a wife. In a moment as the story continues, we shall learn how they came to know that death was living with them. Tonight, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California brings you Robert Young and Margo, as stars of suspense, radio's outstanding theater of thrills. Somewhere tonight, perhaps in Havana, Cuba, a man and a girl sit at a table in a gay cafe. Music laughter filled the big room. A traffic breeze stirs the palms in the terrace. As we watch, the young man pours wine into their glasses. They raise them in a toast to each other. Salud. Salud. Ah. An excellent wine, verdad? As pleasant to the taste as your beauty is to the eye. Do you know where this fine wine comes from? It comes from our good neighbor to the north, Los Estados Unidos, from America. His name is Roma. Yes, from our own America. From our own sunny California come Roma Wines. Made in California for the enjoyment of the world. Doesn't that tell you all you need to know to make you want to choose Roma Wines for your own use? Whether your particular preference is for a nut-brown sherry, a delicious red claret, a full-bodied burgundy. When you choose Roma, you know you're getting the world's best wine value. For Roma Wines are America's largest selling wines. Only through such tremendous popularity can Roma afford to sell so reasonably wines into which have gone all the care and wine knowledge that produce wine masterpieces. There is a Roma wine for every taste. Simply choose the one you like best. Roma wine, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. And now it is with pleasure that we bring back to our soundstage Mr. Robert Young as Harry Jordan and Margot as Marie, his wife, in The Night Reveals, a story well calculated to keep you in suspense. Go on, Mr. Jordan. Well, gentlemen, the next morning I went over to 98th Street to inspect the remains of number 340 and to see if there was evidence of anything suspicious about the origin of the fire. Mr. Parminder was there. Well, there it is. Got it. I guess we'll be paying off on this one, all right? Yeah. Completely burned out. Uh, anyone hurt? Well, few, but no one dead. Luckily they just installed the new fire escapes. Just the walls left. They must have been quite a sight in the height of its glory. Yeah, quite a sight. Man, those walls look pretty bad. They might collapse almost any time. Yeah, the building will have to be razed. And fire did a good job. Oh, here's the commissioner. How are you, Mr. Maral? You know anything about the fire commissioner? No, not a thing. Well, we'll take a look. I wouldn't go in there, Jordan. Those walls are pretty bad. I can take care of myself. Maybe you better not go inside, Harry. Don't worry about me. I know fires as well as anyone. I can ruin hallway. And ashes up to my ankles. Until I reach the remains of the stairway. Underneath were several baby carriages. Just twisted pieces of metal. A burned fragment of something fell nearby. Come on back, Jordan. I'm all right. I poked around the carriages sifting through the clean fine ashes. Something caught my eye. A glob of yellow metal. I picked it up. And I worked my way out. You're going through, isn't she? Yep. Clean through. Nothing left of her. Can you find anything, Harry? Nothing much. The fire started in the hallway, all right. Cellar's untouched. Fireworks its way up. What's that in your hand? Well, that is just a piece of metal, I found. Here. I just picked it up for my kid. He liked shiny things. What do you think, commissioner? Probably one of those gadgets they have on baby carriages. I guess you're right. It isn't anything. But it was something. I had run my fingernail across this glob of metal. It looked like gold. I decided to examine it in detail at home. Mama says I was bad today. Harry, you're home early. Yes. I got through sooner than I expected. I... What is it, Harry? Your locket. You're not wearing it. You never had it off before. My locket? Well, I... Don't you remember? Daddy, can I go over to see Davy Taylor for a minute? Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, Johnny. All right. See you. Thanks, Daddy. You shouldn't have done that. I didn't want him to go. He hasn't had his dinner. Never mind, Johnny. What did you say happened to the locket? Well, I gave it to you. To me? Yes. I put it in your pocket to have it fixed. The catch was loose. I don't remember. You've been very forgetful lately. Very forgetful. Maybe you thought you gave it to me. No, no. I put it in your pocket, Harry. I forgot to mention it to you. I wanted you to take it to the jewelers and get the catch fixed. I just put it in your coat pocket while you were shaving. When? Yesterday. Yes. Yesterday morning. Then it should be in my pocket now. I wore this suit yesterday, too. Nothing in my pockets, Marie. Well... Marie. Yes, Harry? Is anything wrong with you? Don't you feel... With me? No, no. Of course not. I'm all right. I'm perfectly all right. There's not a thing wrong with me. Well, you look worried. Is if you've got something on your mind. Oh, it's nothing. I've just been having a headache. Maybe you ought to see a doctor. Oh, no. It really doesn't amount to much. Well, I think I'll take another look for the locket. Which suit did you say you put it in? Your blue suit, I think. Or maybe it was the gray, though. I don't... I couldn't make it out. What had she done with the locket? She pawned it? Had she given it away? Then I remembered something. I went into the bathroom and locked the door. I looked at this shapeless little glob of yellow metal. I rubbed the blackened spots away, all of it until it was gleaming. I studied it, turning it over and over. I noticed a thin crack. It was small, so I took a nail file out of the medicine chest and began to file it. I kept filing until I had enlarged the crack to the full length of a piece of gold. Then I slipped the nail file inside and pried it open. Tiny fragments of glass, and then... Then I saw a piece of scorched paper. It was a photograph. Picture of my son, Johnny. This glob of metal was my wife's locket. I put the locket in the picture in my pocket and walked out. The next hour, I sat trying to read a book. Well, I'm going to revisit herself, first feeding Johnny and then helping him with his homework. What's the largest continent in the world? Oh, I know. It's... It's Asia. And the next largest? Oh, that's easy. Africa. It's full of jungles. That's where Tarzan lives. Isn't it time for Johnny to be in bed? Oh, yes. I had no idea it was so late. Run along to your room, Johnny. I'll be in in a minute. All right, Mother. Good night, Dad. Good night, Johnny. Sleep well. He's getting along very well in school, except for arithmetic. He seems to be having a little trouble. Oh, Johnny will be all right? Yes. Johnny will be all right. I know he'll be all right. I watched her. She seemed very uneasy. I walked over to my pipe rack where I kept several books of matches in a jar. There weren't any there. All this time, I knew she was watching me, watching me closely. I looked behind the rack. There wasn't a match around. What the devil happened all my matches? I have a match here. Let me light it for you. Did you take the matches out of the jar, Marie? Well, I... Did you? Yes, I needed them in the kitchen. Shall I light your pipe for you? No, I'll light it myself. I picked a match out of the booklet. It was a clean, white match with a green head. I struck it against the side. The match sputtered up into a yellow flame, fringed on the bottom with blue. Marie stared at it until I felt the sharp bite of the flame on my thumb. Would... Would you like a cup of tea, Harry? No, dear, I don't think so. I watched her... her hand casually brushed along the table and picked up the matches. Marie! Leave the matches on the table. I need them. I'm rather short of matches and the pilot light isn't working. Is that the only book of matches in the house? I'll have to get some tomorrow. Where are you going, Harry? Get a drink of water. Never mind, Marie. I'll get it myself. I went into the kitchen. There was a paper bag alongside the gas range. Matches. All thrown in, helter-skelter, books of matches and safety matches, all mixed together. I walked back and sat down in my chair. She sat a few feet away, torturing a handkerchief. She looked so helpless and terrified that my anger passed away. Marie, you've been having headaches lately. Perhaps you ought to see a doctor. You haven't been looking too well. I'm just tired. It's nothing serious. Look, um, how would you like to go away for a few days? Take a vacation. I'll get a maid to take care of Johnny and me. It'll do you a lot of good. No, no, I don't need a vacation. There's nothing wrong with me, but Harry, there is... Yes? There's nothing the matter with... You were about to say something else. I've got to go into Johnny's room and see that he's covered. He always throws the covers off. I sat there looking at the door and I glanced about the room. There was the pack of matches lying open on the table. I closed the cover and my eye caught her purse lying nearby. It was bulging. Harry! Well, what's the matter? My purse! Yes, that's your purse. Here, look. See, the handle's loose and it's full of matches. A dozen books of them for clippings. Give it back to me. Why are you saving these clippings? Why do you carry matches with you? I bought the matches in a store. They were a dozen for five cents. These clippings, look here. Fire on 112th Street causes severe damage. And these others. Why are you saving these clippings, Marie? There's nothing wrong in that. I'm interested, interested in your work. I intend to keep a file on fire. It'll help you in your work. Oh, that's very considerate, Marie. This has to happen to us. Towards midnight I went to bed. Marie didn't follow me. I lay in the semi-darkness wide awake trying to think what I should do. I couldn't collect my thoughts. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see the flame of the match. Yellow and blue calling along the matchstick. Then Marie came in with a cup of steaming liquid. Drink this, Harry. It'll help you sleep. Oh, what is it? It's cocoa. It's very good for you. I'm not the one that's having trouble falling asleep. We both couldn't sleep last night. I'm taking some of this myself as soon as I go to bed. All right. Leave it on the nightstand. Be sure to drink it while it's hot. Yes, Marie. I will. Good night, darling. Good night, Marie. Coco. Then suddenly I knew. I looked around quickly for something to pour at it. There was a radiator pan. It was empty. I poured the cup of liquid into it. Then I lay back and waited. For the next move. About a half hour later, I heard the door open softly and Marie tiptoed towards my bed. Harry. Harry. Are you asleep? I didn't answer, but grieved evenly. She hovered for a moment over me, then she tiptoed out, carefully closing the door behind her. I dashed out of bed and hurried into my clothes. Quickly I poured the liquid from the pan into a bottle and put it into my pocket. Then I grabbed my coat and followed her. She had only a few minutes headway. I would catch up to her easily and then we'd have a showdown. Steve looked at me with control amazement. Hello, Steve. Hello, Mr. Jordan. My wife went down a moment ago, didn't she? Yes, Mr. Jordan. Just took her down. She went towards Third Avenue, didn't she? I think so. She sort of stopped me for a minute and then turned towards Third. Had to get back to the elevator because you were ringing. When I reached the corner, I looked up and down Third Avenue and I saw her. She was walking north. I crossed to the other side of the street and followed her, keeping at a distance. At 98th Street, she turned east. Down the middle of the block was the remains of last night's fire. She paused in front of the gutted building for a long time, just stood there, looking at it. Then she walked inside. I waited for a few seconds and then followed her. It was pitch dark in the burnout hallway. It was a match. Then I saw what she was doing. She was collecting the charred debris near the baby carriages. How foolish. There wasn't anything that could burn there now. She lit another match. I watched the flame light up her face. A face so intent upon her work that she didn't hear me approach. Marie! Who's there? Me. Harry. Come along, Marie. We'd better get out of here. The police. Complete silence. We both knew. When we came to our apartment house, I stopped and rang to the elevator. In the light of the hallway, I could see her face. My wife's face. Ashy gray. Her eyes. Bright and painful. You run upstairs, Marie. I'll be along in a minute. Harry, where are you going? I'll be right back. Please, don't do anything. You run along, Marie. You're not going to... No, I'm only going to the drugstore to get something. I'll be back in a few minutes. She was waiting for me. Did you? Did you do it, Harry? Harry, please, please tell me. I've got to know. I had the cocoa you gave me analyzed. I'm sorry. I had to do it. Don't you see I couldn't help it? It was very easy for the drugist, especially when I told him what I thought was in it. Sodium amatol. That's the stuff that makes you sleep through an earthquake. Please try to understand, Harry. You must understand. Is the kid asleep? Yes. Johnny's all right. I was sorry for Marie. She looked so haggard and worn. It wasn't her fault. I'm sorry for myself. My head was roaring. I wasn't feeling too well. I kept seeing sparks in front of my eyes. I closed my eyes for a moment. Let's go to bed, Harry. Marie, we can do something. Let's burn up every match. Every match in the house. We'll never bring another match in here. No, no, Harry, we can't do that. You don't want to? No, Harry, not now. See, this is the first book. It's turning black. We'll do it with every book of matches. It's no use. It's no use, Harry. Strange isn't it that this should happen to me? Me, a fire inspector. That's funny. Give me the matches, Marie. All the matches. No, I can't do it. I won't. Give them to me. Please, please, please. Don't take them out. Do anything. You want anything. Where did you hide them? Tell me. Where are they? Inside the range. Behind the paper bank. I dropped her hand and she sank to the floor in a huddle, weeping. Then I went into the kitchen and got all the matches. By now, my anger was cooling off. Look, Marie. Look up. See? I light each book of matches one at a time until they're all gone up in smoke. Yellow flame licked its way down the matches. The cover caught fire and blackened. I watched her look at the flame with day's eyes. Listen. Listen, Harry, do you hear? Just someone in the hall. Oh, it's more than someone. Something's happened. Something has happened. I'll take a look. Hey, Mr. Jordan, the house is on fire. The house, the house is on fire. Yes, Marie. Wake up, Johnny. Johnny, Johnny. We'll have to hurry. The flames are coming up the stairs. There's enough with draft. The house is on fire. We've got to get out, Johnny. Come on. It's too late to go down. We'll have to go up to the roof. I've hurt my leg. Come along, Johnny. She'll come along. No. No, I want to wake the mother. It's all right, Johnny. Go along with Daddy. I'll follow you. No. No. Hold on to my arm, Marie. Come on. Give me your hand, Johnny. Don't be scared. The fire won't hurt you. It won't hurt you at all. You're safe with me. Get our way upstairs very slowly because of Marie's brain ankle. Finally, we got to the roof. There were some firemen on the next roof. About 10 feet separated the two buildings. Don't get panicky. We'll get you off safely. How are we... We won't be able to jump. They're putting a board across the two roofs. We'll just walk across. Johnny, you go first. Don't be afraid. There. The rope will hold you in case you slip. Go ahead, Johnny. Another will follow you. Don't turn around. Keep walking. Shooting up through the hole where it had bitten through. Great flames shot out, stabbing at the sky. The top of the roof was burning now. Red flame crawled along, searching out the inflammable spots. A wooden pole caught fire and blazed up in the long, narrow, curving arc. This time, Marie was shaking. Shaking violently. Not with cold. I pitied her. And then she threw up her hands and shrieked. No need to. Not the police. You don't know what you're saying. What is it, lady? You'd better calm down. Officer, please. No, no, it's no use, Harry. Officer, these awful firemen. What is this? Who is the pyromaniac? The criminal is... my husband, this man here. Arrest him, officer. Mr. Sonic, kind of... well, painful for you to hear it all over again, Marie. No. It was all right, Harry. I wonder... I got a cigarette. Could I... No, I'll light it for you, Harry. You don't have to worry. I won't try and keep the matches here. She's been awfully good to me, gentlemen. You'll take good care of her. She tried everything to help. She hid the matches so as to keep them from me. She even tried to give me sleeping pills, so I... It's all right, Harry. I'm sorry about the locket here. It must have fallen out of my coat when I was in that building in 98th Street. It's all right, Harry. You can buy me another one sometime. You. You can. Blame me. I'm sorry. You can't blame anybody for liking fires. It's not their fault. Fires are beautiful to watch. So bright and clean. They burn up all the filthy dirt. And they're magnificent to watch. Especially the big ones. The way the flames roar and crackle, lighting up everything around you. The beautiful fire. The beautiful fire. The night reveals starring Mr. Robert Young and Margot. The night's tale of suspense. I want you to know that the distinguished Roma California wines include the most enjoyable types for every possible occasion. Dry table wines, red and white, appetizer and dessert wines, and also champagne and sparkling burgundy. Nothing can add more downright pleasure to your meals or to your entertainment of friends. And no enjoyment could be more economical. For not only are they supremely delicious, Roma wines are America's largest selling wines and they cost only a few cents a glass. The vast quantities regularly purchased and enjoyed by wine lovers, the advantageous locations of the great Roma wineries in the favored wine districts throughout California, these things permit truly modest prices that make Roma wines the world's outstanding wine values. Roma. R-O-M-A. Roma wines are true to type. Roma wines are faithful in flavor. Roma wines are sound of character. Roma wines are reasonable in cost. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is Robert Young. It's been a great pleasure for me to appear tonight on Suspense, one of my very favorite programs. And I know you want to be listening next Thursday when my friend and colleague at Metro Golden Mayor, Mr. Charles Lawton will be your star. Don't forget then next Thursday same time for Charles Lawton in Suspense. Presented by Roma wines, R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.