 Now, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California presents Suspense. Tonight, Roma Wines bring you the distinguished actor Mr. Henry Daniel as star in a play especially written for suspense by a contemporary master of crime fiction, John Dixon Carr. Suspense is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines, that's R-O-M-A, Roma Wines. It's those excellent California Wines that can add so much pleasantness to the way you live, to your happiness and entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals. Before we bring you Henry Daniel in our suspense play, here's a brief message from famed hostess, Elsa Maxwell. When even so simple a main dish as a steaming, fragrant dish of spaghetti or beans, is surrounded by bright green salads, golden rolls or muffins, and brilliant Roma California burgundy, the food is more appetizing, more enjoyable. And for a summery touch, a vase of flowers, perfect color complement to the deep, rich beauty of Roma Burgundy. You'll enjoy the fruity, robust taste, the tart pecancy of distinguished Roma Burgundy served cool. Truly a masterpiece of fine wine making. Like all Roma Wines, Roma Burgundy is unvaryingly good, always high in quality of bouquet, rich in color and taste, the happy reward of selected grapes brought slowly to perfection, gently pressed, then carefully guided to flavorfulness by the ancient skill of Roma's noted wineries in California's choicest vineyards. Yet all this goodness is yours for only pennies a glass. Remember, because of uniformly fine quality at reasonable cost, more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. R-O-M-A, Roma Wines. Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you a remarkable tale of suspense. And with the dealings of Mr. Markham, and with the performances of Mr. Henry Daniel in the title role, and of Joan Loring as Judith, and Gavin Gordon as Ronald, Roma Wines hope indeed to keep you in suspense. This is the story of a man who commits murder and gets away with it. Does the idea shock you? Do you believe that justice must always be done? But let's be honest with ourselves. You and I needn't be cynics to know that justice is very seldom done. Innocence flinches, guilt is childlike and bland. Innocence is imposed upon. Guilt can compass all things, even a successful murder. And I know this. Because I was the murderer, you say? Oh, no. In quiet Scotland Yard, I was the victim. In Bond Street, not far from Piccadilly, there used to be an establishment which in a less fashionable part of town would have been called a shop. On the windows, in letters as discreet as a visiting card, were the words Charles Markham, antique dealer. Such a delightful fellow, Markham. Such a character. Thirty years ago, yes, as long as that, this antique shop was a dingy place despite deep carpets and crystal chandeliers. It rustled with the ticking of a hundred clocks. It was shadowed by damacined armour and the loom of tall tapestries. And late, one summer night, when the shutters were long closed on those windows, a four-wheeler drew up before that door on the gaslit street. That's all, Caby. You needn't wait. Good night. He must be there. He must be. I won't go back to that place. I'll kill myself first. Look here, I say, old man. Look here. Oh, I beg your pardon. And I beg yours. I'm not the person you were expecting, am I? No, madam. As a matter of fact, I was expecting a police officer. A police officer? Nearly an old friend who often drops in for a talk and a drink. Oh. You are Mr. Markham, aren't you? Yes, my name is Markham. Can I have you have any service to you? I want to come in. I want to buy a present for somebody. Really, madam? It's nearly one o'clock. Surely tomorrow morning. That'll be too late. This is a special occasion. You see, it's a birthday present. That's it, a birthday present. I've got to deliver it at breakfast and Sir Charles Lightell says that this is the only place in London to buy antiques. Sir George flatters me. One moment, I put some lights on. Oh, no, please. That little light will be enough. But you won't be able to see anything. That doesn't matter. I'll trust your judgment. And just as you like. This way, madam. What's that? That noise? You mean the clocks, madam? There are more than a hundred clocks in this room. I'm very fond of them. Might I interest you perhaps in a clock? No, I hate them. All the same, this grandfather clock might amuse you. What about it? Observe the signature. Your Hanny's Carver. Londini. Faket AD 1752. You could see better, madam, if you raise that veil. I'll keep my veil down. Thank you. Just as you please. But look at the clock. I open the glass face like this. I push the minute hand forward like this. What was that voice? Only the clock, madam. Nothing more. The clock spoke? Clever, isn't it? A device of old John Carver anticipating Mr Edison's gramophone by more than a hundred years. Would you don't like clocks? No. May I ask whether the present is for a lady or a gentleman? It's for a man. Has he some knowledge of antiques? No. Yes, I mean... Furniture perhaps? Porcelain? Bronze? Tapestries? Weapons? He might be very much interested in weapons, yes. Then I imagine his name is Mr Ronald Gilbert. Will you tell me, Miss Ray, why you rarely came here tonight? So you know who I am. Naturally. You're Miss Judith Ray. Why did you come here? I wanted to see what sort of man you actually were. And have you found out? No. But I won't go back to prison. I won't. As you will. But since this is to be a business confidence, Miss Ray, and I imagine it is... Yes. Then suppose we go into my office here at the back of the shop. Will you precede me? Thank you. You must excuse the dust covers I put on the chairs here. I'm leaving for a holiday tomorrow and the shop will be closed. When I return next week, Miss Ray, I shall expect the amount requested. In cash, of course. But I can't raise £2,000. You ought to know that. Your fiancé could raise the money, I imagine. Ron, do you think I'd have Ron know where I've been and what I've been? It's better than having his father learn it, surely. Sit down, Miss Ray. I'd rather stand. Thank you. Now that's a very foolish gesture. But the ladies will do it. They think it gives them dignity and shows their disdain of the poor blackmailer. You see, I make no bones about it. I am a blackmailer. You seem rather proud of yourself. Why not? I am the one person in England, perhaps, in the world who has made it a large-scale business. Congratulations. What is all life but blackmail? The child says, if you don't give me that, I'll scream. The grown woman says, if you go on behaving like this, I'll leave you. Your sex, Miss Ray, are blackmailers from the cradle. You know, Charles Markham. Yes. I wonder if anyone has ever hurt you very much. Hurt me? What do you mean? When you talk about the world and people in general, your face goes white under the eyes. You pick up that letter opener from the desk. Not a letter opener, please, Miss Ray. A Medici Dagger. 16th century work. It isn't the money that really interests you, is it? I don't understand. You hate the world. You just want to torture people as you think you've been tortured, isn't that so? This is a very sharp dagger, Miss Ray. If I throw it down on the desk, it sticks. Like that. Isn't it so, Charles Markham? My motives, Miss Ray, aren't in question. I wonder. Whereas your motives are. Let me see. Ten years ago, in 1903, a certain girl called Letty Wilson, your real name, I believe, fell in love with a rather contemptible underworld character named Arthur Acres. Please. No humiliation was too great for her. She worked for him, lied for him, stole for him. I was only 18. I didn't know what I was doing. This girl, for a very shabby theft, was sentenced to three years hard labor at Holloway Prison. Five months later, she escapes from prison and disappears. All these years after which she appears in the West End was Miss Judith Ray, fashionable milliner. Haven't I made up for it? Haven't I? No. For one mistake after ten years? That's the way of the world, my dear. I didn't create it. And I'm forgetting the best part of the comedy. This paragon of virtue next falls in love with Mr. Ronald Gilbert, son of Major General Sir Edmund Gilbert, such a respectable family, too. Stop it, please. Then shall we say two thousand pounds? Suppose I did raise the money. I don't know how, but suppose I did raise it. Well... What guarantee would I have that you wouldn't ask for still more money? I probably shall ask for more money, Miss Ray. That's my privilege as a blackmailer. Then I'm never going to be free of you, is that it? Frankly, that's it. Unless I kill you, of course. What if I did kill you? People have threatened that before, but they haven't meant it. Maybe I mean it. Well, you can easily test you out. There's a sharp knife stuck in the desk in front of you. I'm going to get up and deliberately turn my back on you. Like this. Be careful, Charles Markham. As a student of human nature, I'm curious. How much will you risk to keep this secret? Have you the courage to kill and risk hanging? Yes, I think I have. What was that? Aren't you glad you held back at the last moment, Miss Ray? I said what was that? That, my dear, was the front doorbell. Probably my friend Inspector Ross from Wigmore Street police station. Come on in, old man. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be with you in a minute. You wanted me to try to kill you, didn't you? No, I was merely curious. And in any case, Miss Ray, it would be useless to kill me. Useless? Why? Because I shouldn't die. Don't talk, Rod. It's quite true. A man in my position must take certain precautions. If you killed me, I shall be back to haunt you within half an hour, and I don't happen to be joking. Come in. Look here, Markham. Ron! Good Lord. Judith. Mr. Ronald Gilbert, as I live. Ron, what are you doing here? He hasn't got anything against you, has he? Speak up, Mr. Gilbert, have I? The fact is, Judith, I... Look at him, Miss Ray. See how he changes colour and twists his moustache, and altogether resembles a boy caught at the jam cupboard. The perfect picture of a gentleman being a gentleman. Look here, Markham. I'm not very clever. You can always make a fool out of me when you start talking, so let's stop talking. I've brought the money. What money? My fee for keeping quiet about you. So you went to Ron, too. You told him about it? Naturally. If possible, always sell your wares in two markets. How much money? Never mind, Judith. I'd hoped I could do this without your knowing. How much money, Ron? Three thousand. It's all I could raise. Has he told you who I am and what I've been? Look here, Judith. Who the devil cares who you are, what you've been. I happen to be in love with you. I... Oh, never mind. Let's get out of here. Ron, it's no good. He'll only come back for more. I know that, but what else can we do? Nothing, I'm afraid. Where? What's that knife doing there? Stun on the desk. Nothing dangerous, I assure you. Oh. Only a curio. Very sharp, of course. Miss Ray was much interested in the dagger. May I have that envelope with the money, please? There you are. Take it. Thank you. As I explained to Miss Ray, I'm leaving tomorrow for a holiday. Hence the general disarray and the dust covers on the chairs. And glad we could settle this affair, as you would say, like gentlemen. This is your job, Mark, am I supposed? You can't help being what you are. But never again, as long as you live... Well... Never even say that word, gentlemen. Be careful, Ron. Look at his face. Tell me, Mr. Gilbert, how much money is in this envelope? You heard what I said. 3,000 pounds. Then take it back, my friend. I find we can't strike a bargain after all. What do you mean? Just what I say. Here's your money. You will now oblige me, both you and Miss Ray, by leaving my shop. What do you mean? What are you going to do? Tomorrow morning, perhaps even tonight, I'm going to get in touch with the police. I shall tell them where they can find Letty Wilson, alias Judith Ray. You can't do that, Mark. Oh, yes, he can. You've hit him where it hurts. 3,000 pounds, my friend, is not enough compensation for the way you talk. There's the way through the shop. Shall I escort you to the front door? No. You prefer to stay here and make a fool of yourself? You're not going to tell the police, Mark. I promise you that. And how are you going to stop me? With this! Ron, put that gun away. It's a funny thing, Judith. I felt a bit of a fool, you know, bringing this revolver along, and now I've got a use for it. Oh, yes, I've got a use for it. Maybe the best thing would be for me to go into the street now and call the police. You'll never get to the street, Markham. Get back in here. So both of you, it appears, came here under false pretenses. You said you wanted to pay me some money. The money's still there. But you've lost your chance to get it. And our dear Judith said she wanted to buy a present for you. I showed her this grandfather clock there. This talking clock. Don't go a step beyond that clock, Markham. I warn you. You wouldn't dare. Wouldn't I? No, and I'll call your bluff. One step. Two steps. Run! I know you're a whole silly tribe. You wouldn't risk it. You wouldn't. What's happening to me? Don't try to grab at the clock, Markham. It won't save you. You wouldn't risk your life. You wouldn't risk your family position. You wouldn't. I had to do it, Judith. Don't you say I had to do it? Oh, Ron. Ron. Steady. We'll find a way out. Maybe he's not dead, Ron. Go and look at him. He's dead all right. Please, Ron, go and look at him. Well? Shout through the heart. Well, it went clean through him and smashed the face of the grandfather clock. It's all I can see in this dim light. This isn't happening to us. It can't be happening. Got to think. I've got to think. I'm scared. You're not going to give yourself up? Have this whole thing made public? No fear. Wait a minute. There may be a way out. What way? He said he was going for a holiday. It means his absence won't be noticed. The shop will be closed. Nobody will come here for days, and certainly nobody will come here tonight. The police officer. I forgot the police officer. What police officer? A friend of Markham's. Inspector somebody from Whigmore Street. He's expected here tonight. Then we are finished. Ron, could you pick Markham up and carry him? Yes. Yes, I could manage that. Why? There must be a back way out of this shop. Probably in the office. Hurry, Ron. Why? I don't like to touch him. Hurry, Ron, please. He's as heavy as a sack of meal. He seems to be looking straight at me. I know. Everything here seems to have eyes and to move a little in the shadow. Did you see the expression in Markham's eyes? Just before you... No. I didn't notice. He seemed to be looking behind us or beyond us. I don't know how to describe it. And he said something to it that scared me. He said he couldn't die. He said that... Close the door, quick. The back door. Wait. Oh, there it is. It's locked. Isn't there a key? No. Maybe in his pockets. Look in his pockets on the key ring. There isn't time, Ron. I think I heard the front door open. The police... I've got it. The dust covers. What? Those white cloth covers that threw over the chairs. Look at them. What on earth are you talking about? Like the game we played when we were kids. Somebody sits in a big chair. You fit the dust cover over him and nobody can tell he's sitting there. Don't you see, Judith, that's how we can hide Markham's body. It might work if there's time. There's got to be time. Take the cover off that big wing chair. All right. Maybe there's a chance. I'll... I'll fit him into it. There. That cover back again. Pull it down around his feet. Don't let it touch his chest. The blood will show through. There. There. That's got it. Now, you can't see anything now, can you? No, but... Ron. Well? What did you do with the gun? Gun? The revolver the gun you shot Markham with. Oh, I put it down on the floor when I picked up his body. Out in that other room? Yes. As I'm afraid so. It's too late now, Judith. The police are here. What are we going to say? I don't know. Trust your wits and try to brazen it out. Yes? Come in. Good evening, Miss Ray. Good evening, Mr. Gilbert. Charles Markham. You're Charles Markham. Correct, Miss Ray. But why is that surprise you? Why do you look as though you were seeing a ghost? Because we are seeing a ghost. If you're Charles Markham, whose body is it? Judith, be careful. Body, Miss Ray? Did you say body? Miss Ray is upset. She doesn't know what she's talking about. If you killed me, I should be back to haunt you within half an hour. That's what you said. Indeed. My dear young people, you're very welcome. But the situation is surely a little odd. I come in here and find you two looking as guilty as a pair of murderers in my private office in the middle of the night. There's nothing odd about it. I wanted to buy Judith something. At one o'clock in the morning. Yes, why not? May I ask how you managed to get in? The front door was open. We just walked in. And you say there was nobody else here? There's nobody here, Mr. Markham. Not a living soul. Then you didn't by any chance meet my brother? Your brother? Brother? Yes, my brother, Robert. You couldn't have mistaken him if you had seen him. He looks so much like me that few people can tell us apart. And that's it. Poor Robert often deputizes for me. He's learned to act like me, think like me, talk like me. But he doesn't like the work much. Of course, you know what my work really is. Your brother? Yes, my brother, Robert, is an idealist. He thinks, poor fellow, that my profession is beneath contempt. But he acts the part and acts it well because I pay him. And it's convenient to have a double who'll run risks for me. What have you done with his body? We haven't done anything with him. My friend, if you've killed Robert, you've committed a totally useless murder. You don't see him here, do you? No. But I see his handiwork. Meaning what? I've warned him many times about throwing a knife down on a polished desktop. Those scratches on the desk are fresh scratches. Of course, if you give me your word of honor, he's not here. Of course he's not here. Well, then, in that case, all we can do is sit down and make ourselves comfortable. Will you sit down, Mr. Gilbert? And you, Miss Ray, how about the wing chair by the window? I... What's wrong, Miss Ray? Why don't you sit down? Because I prefer to stand, thank you. Then perhaps you won't mind if I sit in the wing chair. It's a very comfortable one. My brother always says... Don't sit down there. No, no, don't sit down there. So that's it? Yes, that's it. What's the use of going on like this? I killed him. You admit that? Yes. Yes, I admit it. But Judith had nothing to do with this. I swear she hadn't. My telephone, you notice, is against the wall. I shall have to turn my back to you when I ring. Ring where? Wigmore Street Police Station. Give him a chance. Please give him a chance. Hello? Operator? I want Region 0586. I won't let them take you around. I won't. No good, Judith. I killed a man. I meant to kill him. That's all there is to it. You have a very sensible attitude, my friend. And if the lady has any idea of flying at me with that knife... Just notice what I've got here. A 32 revolver, one chamber fired, picked up off the floor in that other room where... Oh, hello. Wigmore Street Police Station. For the last time, Mr. Markham, won't you give him a chance? Be quiet, Miss Ray. May I speak to Inspector Ross? Please, Mr. Markham. Hello, Inspector. Charles Markham. I understood you were going to drop in and see me tonight. Oh, I see. Well, naturally, business before pleasure. As a matter of fact, I rang you up to make sure you wouldn't come here tonight. I've got a lot of work to do, and I'm leaving for Eastbourne early tomorrow morning. Let's make it some other time, shall we? No, Inspector. No. It's as quiet as the grave hereabouts. I've never known a more peaceful night. Goodbye. Why did you do that? Please, don't excite yourself, Miss Ray. Didn't you hear what I told the Inspector? Yes. Is this some more trickery? Trickery? How can that be? I don't know. That's what I'm asking you. I should call it generous when I let my poor brother's death go unavenged. You're not doing this without a reason. Naturally not. Has it occurred to you, either of you, that I might not want my business dealings revealed in court? What are you driving at? Has it also occurred to you that a man's double, who looks exactly like him and shares all his secrets, may become a danger rather than an asset? He knows too much. He wants too much, and so... I think I understand. You're glad he's dead. Not glad, my dear. You've shocked my brotherly feelings, but definitely relieved. Look here, you can't get away with this. Get away with it, sir. Come now. Aren't you forgetting that you're the murderer? And what are you going to do? It's very simple. We three, in an unholy partnership, will dispose of Robert's body. Or would you rather hang? He's got us wrong. There's no other way. But how can we dispose of the body? Oh, this seems worse than killing him. It's a filthy, cold-blooded practical necessity. As for disposing of the body, nothing is easier. We shall simply gather the necessary materials and then... And so, as I said before, this is the story of a man who commits murder and gets away with it. Ronald Gilbert looks back across the years and is still firmly convinced of his own guilt. But of course, Gilbert never shot anybody. I was the man who committed the murder. Don't you remember the bullet that killed my brother is supposed to have passed through his body and smashed the face of the grandfather clock? But that's an impossibility. The face of a grandfather clock is much higher than the heart of a man. You see, two shots were fired in the very same instant. Gilbert missed and smashed the clock face. I fired from the door of the office and did not miss. That was why my brother looked past those two. I went out by the back door, locked it, and reappeared at the front afterwards. It was not Robert Markham who died. I am Robert Markham. It was Charles who died that night, and I killed him to stop forever the wholesale blackmail that was poisoning the lives and blasting the hearts of a thousand half-crazed people. His records I destroyed, his correspondence I burnt. He's dead and gone. I have assumed his name and identity ever since. Yes, I committed a murder. And yet, if you were on a jury, dare you say that you would condemn me? Oh, come now. Would you? And so closes the dealings of Mr. Markham, and which Roma Wines have brought you Henry Daniela's star with Joan Loring as Judith and Gavin Gordon as Ronald. In tonight's study in Suspense. Suspense is produced, edited and directed by William Spear. Before Mr. Daniel returns to the microphone, this is Truman Bradley with a word for Roma Wines, the sponsor of Suspense. America's famed authority on hospitality, Elsa Maxwell, recently made this suggestion for gracious entertaining. Your friends will compliment your good taste when you serve delightful Roma California Toque with coffee or dessert, with nuts and fruit, enjoyable at any time, served cool. A most timely suggestion from Miss Maxwell. You'll find flame bright Roma Toque velvety smooth, moderately sweet, light, yet delightfully rich, and you'll find Roma Wines always delicious of unvarying fine quality and goodness. And the next time you use vermouth, choose Roma Vermouth. Zestful, full-flavored Roma Vermouth is blended, developed with all the traditional winemaking skill of Roma Wanneries, is made and bottled in the heart of California's famous vineyards, yet surprisingly low priced. Try Roma Vermouth soon, won't you? This is Henry Daniel. For a long time I've looked forward to making an appearance on Suspense, and I hope that I should be invited for a return engagement. Now, here's something important. Every dollar invested now in the seventh war loan, which ends this Saturday, is a fighting dollar that paves the way to victory over Japan. It's an invested dollar stored for your future security. Buy an extra war bond or two by Saturday, and do your share in bringing the seventh war loan to a successful close. Henry Daniel is currently being seen in RKO's production, The Body Snatcher. Joan Loring is currently being seen in the Warner Brothers production, The Corn is Green, and will be starred on Suspense at a later date. Next Thursday you will hear Mr. George Caloris as star of Suspense. Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is CBS, The Columbia Broadcasting System.