 suspense, the hushed voice, and the prowling step in the dead of night, the crime that is almost committed, the stir of nerves at the ticking of the clock, the rescue that might be too late, or the murderer who might get away, mystery and intrigue and dangerous adventure. We invite you to enjoy stories that keep you in... your suspense. Tonight we present The Body Snatchers by John Dixon Carr. Beware of the body snatcher who prowls after dark. Beware of the grave he robs. Beware of the murders he commits to provide new corpses for the doctors. Up to the year 1832, The Body Snatchers terrorized England. According to the law, four bodies a year could legally be supplied to the surgeons for anatomical study, and even these were a monopoly granted to the barbers and surgeons company of London. The study of surgery had to go on. In hundreds of medical schools all over England, perfectly reputable doctors were compelled to buy bodies and ask no questions. In 1828 burst the scandal of Burke and Hare who found grave robbing too slow, and murdered 16 persons in order to supply Dr. Knox of Edinburgh. And so out of basic good purpose, sprang the evil of The Body Snatcher. Turn back the clock now to a cold night just 110 years ago. Look into the brick kitchen of a house on Wandsworth Common, not far from London. There in the light of a tallow dip sits old Mother Slade in her draggled bunnies. What's keeping them? Two hours, two mortal hours by the Dutch clock, and they're not here yet. Mother Slade! On the graveyard not off a mile off, and once I thought I heard Church Bill's ring, and one Mother Slade did you call? No, my girl, I did not call. What I thought I heard. And what are you doing up at this hour, my girl? I was only locking up, Mother Slade. Ain't it enough to have taken you over from a good for nothing, Mother, not worth the gunpowder to blow her up? Please, Mother Slade. I'm giving you a good home, and brought you up practically like a lidey, with only the housework to do. I'm sorry, Mother Slade, only I wish you wouldn't talk like that about me, old Mother. And what do you do, Peggy Lester? Stop up until this hour. You miss Slade, miss Snuffbox twenty times a day. I was only going to say I thought I heard a horse and cart in the lane. In our lane? Yes, Mother Slade. There it is now. Yes. Easy, my dears. Drive easy with the merchandise. The doctors don't like it if you bump the merchandise. Merchandise, Mother Slade. What's that? I'll tell you what it is, my girl. I didn't mean anything, Mother Slade. It's your uncle Matt and your cousin Robert coming home from their business. That's what it is. You hear that, Peggy Lester? I didn't miss Slade, you Snuffbox. It's on the table. And if you don't want me to take my fingernails to you instead of a strap, you get on up to bed this minute, dear. Yes, Mother Slade. I'm coming, my dears. Don't be impatient. I'm coming. Nasty, dim light this candle gives. Oh, Mother Slade has got the romantic, so cruel she can oddly move. Just pull back the bar, open the door. We'll meet. Did you get it? Did we get it? Strike me blind, but that's a good and ain't it, Rob? Stare the gab, cord you get. Didn't sign close the door. They ain't after you. Ain't they? Can't you hear anything? I thought I heard church bells. More like a perishing funeral bell, if you ask me. Take it easy, Rob. Take it easy. We've shaken them off. Have we? I wish I was a certain of some people. The spades and the sack is still in the cart. Let them stay. Who's are coming to find them? Then you didn't get it after all, you six-cow pera. Now, don't you start up blaming us. Now, you shut your potato trap, Mother Slade, or a metal maker shut it. What happened? I'll tell you what happened. He was too quick, that's what. The girl was only billied this afternoon. The sooner the better, my dear. What's the good of the merchandise if it ain't fresh, eh? You hold your noise and listen. We left the awesome cart outside like we always do. We creeps up to the Lich Gate to the churchyard. Walk softly, Matt. Walk softly, Rob, in your oily beaver hats and necklace, under the starlight and the white frosted elms. Take care of the graves, too. Spring guns may be set in some of them to protect the dead from rodders. And if the coffin is one of those new iron ones, all your labor will be in vain. Open the gates softly, and make such a bloody riot with them shovels. I can't help it. I'm loaded down with all this stuff. Oh, and who'll do all the work when we do get there? I will. Matt. I. Listen. I can't hear nothing except your teeth are chattering. Matt, does other people besides us in this year's churchyard? Aye, two or three hundred deaders, but they won't bother us. I mean living people. Don't talk so. Somebody's got a dark lantern. I see me flash past the gravestones. Oh, where? Can't you see it there? It's coming straight toward us. Yes, I see him. Come on. They've seen us, Matt. He's got it. Well, down beyond the gravestones. That's Dan. He can't shoot through stone. Matt, it says he's sacred to the memory of... It's the girl's relatives. They've been watching her grave. Oh, true. If only I had my barkers. First time in two years I'd gone without a brace of pistols, and this happened. But you ain't got your barkers, Matt Patterson. I got what's just as good. Give me a shovel. What are you going to do? Charge them. This year's shovel's got a nice edge. Are you daft? They'll have to take time out to reload, won't they? Somebody's started a bill. That'll bring down every peeler within a mile. If you want to tie a ticket and then neck in your own rope, stop where you are. But if you don't want to get scragged before your time, follow me. That's all there is to it, Mother Slade. We went out by the gate and blow me if they could stop us. You perishing nuns, cows. Did they recognize you? No. We had on their kitcheps around our eyes. And did you do it? I don't know. There's blood on the shovels. No, there ain't, Mother Slade. I wiped it off. Anyway, we're here. What I want now is a Christian fire to sit by and a drop of spirits to warm me stomach. There's no spirits in the house, Matt Patterson. Don't you lie to me, you ugly man. Let go of me, Matt Patterson. I'm warning you. You better let me go, Matt. There's no spirits. Only half a loaf of bread. Don't I know it? I haven't tasted a drop of gin all day. Black dogs on the back. Well? Look at what I say. The doctor was promised a corp tonight. All right, dearie, he gets a corp tonight. Oh, there's that funeral bell again. What's the clock all had? Come on, spit it out. A nice young corp without any trouble or bother. All right. What about young Peggy upstairs? Strike me blind. What about it, eh? You'd have to be mighty careful. Why? You'd have to smother her with a pillow while I sit on her legs. That's what Birken Eyre done up in Edinburgh. Then you don't leave any marks on him. Get off her, tick-wait. If the doctors see they've been polished off, just plain murdered, they won't have nothing to do with it. These two aces, they don't like it. Like it or not, dearie. They all do. Who's buying the beef tonight? Dr. George Arnold. Him? The young filler out full and weight? That's the man, dearie. But I thought he was too pious and only to play. That's what Dr. Arnold thought, too, till they started putting the screws on him at Barts College. No corp they said to him? No lecture. No lecture, no students. They all comes to it, dearie, sooner or later. What beats me is why they got to have these bodies. You'd think the doctors killed enough people as it is without her buying them after they were steeped. Don't you question the ways of Providence, Matt Patterson? You can't do it, Matt. You can't do it, Mother Slade. You stole that noise, Bob Plenty. Do you want to wake the poor girl upstairs? But you can't do it. This cove Arnold, he knows her. Arnold knows her. He knows Peggy. Peggy Fair worships the grand he walks on. Oh. He said her arm once when Mother Slade broke it, accidental-like, and she can't forget him. What's Arnold going to think when he opens up the sack and he finds his... What can Arnold do? He's bought her, ain't he? He can't go to the police and say he's bought her. Peggy. Peggy Lester. Don't treat Mother Slade. Don't do it. And how do you two sickheads know what Mother Slade is going to do? You're going to kill her, ain't you? Peggy. Peggy Lester. I thought I heard her moving a bat upstairs. You did, Mr. Milk and Water. She's on the stairs now. Rob, you're the least to be depended on. Go out and fetch in the sack. Don't do it. He'll bring us all bad luck. Matt, you're a lad after me, own art. You stop where you are and do just as I tell you. Trim the candle. Let's have it all nice and snug. What else she brings, you think? 15 guineas. Maybe 20. Maybe more. 20 guineas? Strike me, Brian. But this is a way of doing business that I like. Did you call me Mother Slade? That's right, my ducky. That's right, my little pet. Put your wrap around you and your slippers to keep your feet warm and come right down here to Mother Slade. I'm coming, Mother Slade. I'm coming. Who in those times would be a surgeon and still be an honest man? At that drugged hour of the night, look into the sitting room of a spacious house. Many candles are still a light there, though they have burned down nearly to their silver sockets. There is Chinese people on the walls, and a turkey carpet underfoot in front of the fire now almost out sits Dr. George Arnold with his bottle-green coat and heavy hair. Dr. Arnold, sir? I beg your pardon, Mrs. Tankrid. Dr. Arnold, sir, it's gone till o'clock. Yes, yes, so it has. You've got a lecture to deliver tomorrow, and you'll be all worn out. Why don't you go on up to bed? Mrs. Tankrid. Yes, sir? You're a jewel of a housekeeper. I admire you, and I can't do without you, but would you please go away and let me alone? Sure, I'm very sorry, sir. No offense intended. Oh, stop. I shouldn't have said that. I'm thinking too much, perhaps. Smoking too many cigars, if you'll excuse me. Why must they keep tolling that bell at East Hill Church? Why must they keep it up all night? Well, sir, Elsie says the parson told him to do it. Wait. Who is Elsie? I know you're always up in the clouds, mooning over books and whatnot, but I did think you'd recognize the name of your own parlor, mate. Oh, that Elsie. I see. Well... Elsie says it's because of the murder in the churchyard. What murder? Two resurrection men. Body snatchers, sir. Oh, you wouldn't know anything about such people. No, no, no, of course not. They were caught trying to rob a grave, but they got away. One of them rule was a horrible bigfiller. Split Willy Kendrick's head open with the edge of a shovel. Is anything wrong, sir? No, not exactly. Well, I fought for a second, see, and now you look. Did they... did they get the body? Yes, sir. It was Willy Kendrick. His head was split open with a shovel. No, no, I mean, did these resurrection men get what they were after? No, sir. Thank God. Oh, you may well say that, doctor. It wasn't exactly speaking the religious sense, but never mind. What else he says? There are what she calls peelers all over the place. Peelers? Yes, these new policemen. After Sir Robert Peel, and somebody from the new detective police that they're using instead of the Bow Street runners. Well, Mrs. Tankard, I'm going to smoke one more cigar and then I'm going to bed. Very good, sir. You see, sometimes you give orders, then it's too late to recall them. Whatever the medical practice is, you can't look your conscience in the face afterwards. Then I can't tell you how or why. A miracle comes along and saves you and you're free, you're... What was that? Sounds like a horse and cart in the drive, sir. Mrs. Tankard. Yes, doctor? Will you please go upstairs? Now make haste. Well, if it's visitors, sir, or even a patient. Mrs. Tankard, you heard my instructions, obey them. Sir, there's the front door. Yes, I heard it. For the last time, go away. I will admit whatever visitors we have. Yes, sir. Good evening, dearie. Oh, come into the sitting room here, miss... Mrs. Slade. Yes, sir. Just call me Mother Slade. You don't hardly seem natural or friendly to hear anything else. It's a pleasure to curtsy to you, doctor. Cool. What a lovely room. I... I suppose... Your candles is going out, though. One bar one. Then you'll be in the dark. I suppose you've come to report failure. Failure, dearie? I... I understand you didn't get what you went after. Bless you, dearie. We got something just as good. Finest piece of merchandise you ever saw. You haven't got it here. Bless you, dearie. Mother Slade always keeps her word. Bring the merchandise in, my dears, so the doctor can see it. Quiet, please. A worth-cross, dearie. I forgot. Don't thank Mr. Pat. The big seller with the black eyebrows is Uncle Met. The little seller with the watery eyes is Cousin Robb. And between them, in that sack, they're Carrion. Who is it in the sack? Nineteen-year-old girl, dearie. Finest anatomical spissen in you ever saw. Where do you want this year's thing dumped, Governor? Easy now, Matt. Why did you bring it here? That's why you told us to bring it, dearie. I mean, why did you bring it to the front door? Why not to the surgery? Only place in the house where there was lights, Governor. Hurry up. Now, where do you want it? Well, take it... Yes, dearie? Take it over and put it in the cupboard there, where I'm pointing. This cupboard here, sir? Yes, then close the cupboard door. Shame on you two. Tracking your muddy boots over the doctor's lovely turkey carpet? Easy, my dears. Easy now. All right, Robin. She goes there. Don't bruise the merchandise. Whatever you do, don't bruise the merchant down. Right, my blind watsley orge. She can't feel it near. Here's your body, Mr. Sorbonne. Now, let's see your money. Well, just one moment before I give it to you. There ain't no itch in this, is there? Better not be. No, I... I made a bargain with you and I'll stick to it. Thank you. That's uncommon genteel of you. Kind of stand back, sir. You're two stone of fat heavier than I am and you don't impress me. Easy, mate. Take it easy. I want to ask only one question. Where did you get that body? That's a question, dearie. What people in your profession don't ask. Why not? Because they don't dare. That's why. Would the police be interested in where you got the body? No, dearie. Not as so interested in as where we brought it to your house. It's your responsibility now. Yes, I suppose it is. The victim wouldn't be, by any chance, that pretty little girl you used to treat so unmercifully. You wrote your noise about how I treated her. I was rather fond of Peggy. Strike me blind. I think the soulful... Get out of this house, all of you. Go on, get out. Not without that money, dearie. It's 20 guineas now. There's money on the table under that newspaper. Take what you want and get out of here before I... Oh, what was that? Ah, what was it? A late visitor, I imagine. Were you expecting anybody? No. Don't drop the lovely money. Don't drop it all over the carpet. Take it. Is there a back way out here? Yes, it's the way you should have come. Through that arch and down the passage. Thank you for the rhino, cabinet. And no games, mind you. If you know what's good for you. Good night, dearie. Remember, you've got the body now. Yes. I've got the body now. Poor, poor little devil. Dr. Arnold, sir. In heaven's name, Mrs. Tancred. Haven't you gone to bed yet? I had to get upset to answer the bill. Oh, yes, yes, of course. I'm sorry. Why, Dr. Arnold, what's the matter with you? Matter. You're as white as a ghost and you're almost crying. Am I? Well, we must remedy that. Why, it's so dark in here. I could barely see your city there. The candle's going out one after another. Nothing but smoke and a nutly smell of grease and that cupboard door. What about that cupboard door? I always declare, sir, it won't keep shut without any latch or bolt if you'll excuse the... Mrs. Tancred, keep away from that cupboard. Dr. Arnold, sir. Are you ill or anything? No, but keep away from that cupboard. Who rang the bell? Oh, dear, I was almost forgetting. It's that man, else he was talking to us about. What man? The officer of the detective police, sir. He wants to see you. Well, I'll see him, but in some other room, not here. It's...as you say, there's not enough light. Not a bit of it, doctor. Not a bit of it. Never too dark, as you might say, where the police are concerned. I couldn't help it, sir. He must have followed me down the hall. Are you... That's right, doctor. I'm stalker at your service, Inspector Stalker. How do you do, Inspector? Mrs. Tancred, you may go. Oh, by your leave, sir. I'll just get some more candles and put them in that bracket by the cupboard. It's not in use. No, you'll needn't trouble. It's no trouble, sir. Excuse me. First of all, doctor, I must apologize for intruding as late as this. Not at all, Inspector. Would you be seated? Thank you, sir. Thank you kindly. No. I dare say you're wondering why I'm here. Oh, yes, I am, rather. It's a bad business, doctor. A very bad business. You mean the murder in the churchyard? Oh, you've heard about it. Well, my housekeeper said something about a... a man being killed with a shovel. That's right, doctor. Not much doubt about who did that. No. No. The little fella dropped his dark lantern with the initials on it. They're professional body snatchers. We've had our eye on them for a long time. Speaking of body snatchers, doctor... Well, I expect this anatomy law is pretty hard in you surgeons. It's an infamous law, sir. Oh, the same, doctor. It is the law. Yeah, yes. And if any surgeon happened to be caught with a body... especially a murdered body... What are you... What are you hinting at? Oh, nothing, doctor. Nothing. By your leave, I only want to ask a question. Well? What time did your friends leave? Now, come, doctor. As one man of the world to another, do you see any green in my eye? You are not going to say you had no guests when their horse and cart are still at your front door. They... didn't... get away. No, doctor. They didn't. They met a little reception committee as they left by the back door. Darby's on the wrists. Snap. Just as I might reach out and touch your wrist. Like this. What do you mean by Darby's handcuffs? I've got a pair in my pocket. Gags into their mouths. That's to keep them from biting. Look, do we have to go on with this? You already seem to know everything I could tell you. Not exactly everything. I don't know, for instance, where you've hidden the girl's body. You're a very diligent man, Inspector Stalker. Thank you, sir. I tried to do my duty. You said a... a girl? These gin muddled degenerates have been watched every second since they left East Hill Churchyard. They hadn't a body then, but they brought one here. And there's only one other person who lives in the same house with them. Dr. Arnold, sir? Mrs. Tancred, listen to me. Yes, sir? Must you always break in with the most completely old-time entrances at all the worst period of my life? I was only trying to be helpful, sir. That's right, madam. Always be helpful. You had to have some light. Here's the candle, sir. Five of them. In a big candelabrum. We can hang them in the bracket. Madam, hold up that light. Hold it high. Really, sir? I'm not in the habit of being spoken to as... Hold it high, I tell you. Do as the Inspector tells you, Mrs. Tancred. This is a very fine carpet you've got here, Doctor. Yes, others have admired it tonight. But it oughtn't to have footprints on it. Muddy footprints. Footprints leading from the door. Ask the sofa. Ask the half. Over to that cupboard. Quite correct. And I think that's done it, Doctor Arnold. I think it has, Inspector Storker. We couldn't have proved anything against you for that churchyard business, but this... Let me open Bluebeard's cupboard, Inspector. Let me be the first to show you what's inside. You wanted a certain body. It appears you've come to the right place. Now... Look. Lord Almighty. I'm the body, Mr. Police. Standing up and very much alive. I'm wearing a nice new dress that the Doctor gave me. But I gave you... Don't say anything. Please don't say anything. Stop a bit, Miss. Aren't you Peggy Lester? Yes. Just because the Doctor has to be so terribly respectable and a girl whose fond of him has to come here in secret... Wait a minute, everybody. Peggy Lester, you're lying. So that's it. Why didn't I guess it? It's the oldest body snatchers trick in the world. Is it? Of course, the old pinch-penny like Mother Slade couldn't sacrifice a good household drudge. Of course, they brought the body here, instead of taking it to the surgery where it might get locked up. Could you be persuaded, Inspector, to tell us just what you're talking about? The body snatchers, sir. Well, what about them? They take a living accomplice and put him into a sack and sell him to a green doctor as a dead man. Yes, but see here, they get the best price they can. Then in the middle of the night, their accomplice gets up and robs the Doctor's house. And the Doctor can't tell us because he's bought illegal goods. I never intended to go through with it. No, young woman. I tell you, I wasn't going to rob the house. They made me do this. I was going to tell Doctor Arnold when I found out where they were taking me, I pretended to go through with it so I could warn the Doctor. They can hurt so much, you'll agree to almost anything. That sounds like the truth, but it puts me in a funny position and no mistake. Oh, you're... your three murderers, Inspector, seem to be... seem to be leaving. They're leaving right enough. Trust up like fouls and under guard. Does anybody go with them? How can anybody go with them? I'm willing to believe this girl acted under threats. She's committed no crime and I don't, for the life of me, see how we can touch you. Can't touch me? No, sir. I can found you for making me lose a night's sleep. There's no body. You didn't even buy a body. Will you tell me, Doctor, just what crime you've committed? And so ends the body snatchers. A story of London at midnight, a hundred years ago, and tonight's story of... Suspense. Columbia presents these tales of mystery and intrigue and dangerous adventure for your relaxation and enjoyment. Next Tuesday, there will be another in this series. Same hour. 9.30 Eastern wartime. William Spear, the producer. John Deak, the director. Alexander Semler, the composer, conductor. And John Dixonka, the author. Our collaborators are... Suspense. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.