 And now, tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense. Tonight, the story of two people and the terror that rolled with them in the city. We call it Backseat Driver. So now, starring Miss Vivy Janus and Mr. Parley Bear, here is tonight's suspense play, Backseat Driver. It can't happen to you. You read about stuff like that in the papers. These girls murdered and mutilated, drunks left dying in the gutter for the handful of change they had in their pockets. Loansome old men tortured because some hoodlum gets the idea they're misers with a pot of gold hidden under the floorboards of the shack. Sure, you know it's real, but it can't happen to you. Oh, you get your fair share of trouble. I've been a professional man here in Los Angeles for 20 years. I've met up with bums and grifters and petty sharpers. They're around in any business. But the viciousness, the real deep down dirt, that's for somebody else. You do your work and you go home to your family and for a real bang-up evening to break the monotony, you take your wife out to a movie. That's what I did that Saturday night. We'd driven all the way in from San Fernando Valley to Beverly Hills for a picture Ellie especially wanted to see. Wasn't that a good movie, Joe? Just the kind I like. Songs and dancing and girls in pretty clothes. I get so tired of cops and robbers. What's wrong with cops and robbers? Oh, you know what I mean. Murder movies, honestly. All the policemen stupid and all the crooks sneering out of the corners of their mouths. The stuff those Hollywood boys dream of. You'd think the streets were knee-deep in blood and you couldn't hear yourself think for machine guns. Well, you get him first, honey. I don't think your door is closed tight, honey. Oh, don't forget about the gas. Oh, I got plenty to take us out the valley. I'll fill up at Bills. Remember how that song goes, Joe? What song? In the picture. You know, two on the moon, the one the boy sang to the girl. Well, that one, let's see. Oh, heck, I don't know. Well, we'll hear it again on the radio. How about turning it on? Settled K and X. We ought to get some news in a few minutes. I'd like to hear where they caught that fella. That murderer? Mm-hmm. They spotted him in LA this afternoon, but he got away. I know. You told us it suffered. Makes us shiver. Oh, don't worry. He won't get away with it. We left the lights of Beverly Hills behind us and I turned into Coldwater Canyon. It's as quick away as any to get us across the Hollywood Hills to the valley. It's dark in the canyon, quiet, with mighty little traffic at night. I flipped my lights up full and we swept up the side of the ridge. The news program came on, but I didn't pay much attention. The fella was talking about brush fires. They'd already put out the one near my place, though they were still patrolling it. We were over the ridge and sliding down to the valley before the program got to the part I wanted to hear. Oh, there it is. We put up higher on it. It's awful. Just awful. Not pretty, no. Somewhere around LA this minute. Hmm? You think it's right? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. You think it's right us leaving Annie and Bud all alone? Oh, now. Well, and Annie's grown up and Bud can take care of himself. You can't wrap those kids in cotton wool. I know. I'm silly, I guess. Neighbors close all around, all they'd have to do is yell. Joe, what would make a young man do a dreadful thing like that? Could be a lot of things. Maybe he's got a screw loose, maybe when nuts over a girl. Maybe gets a kick out of killing like some of them do. You know all the answers. Hey, Joe! Keep going. Go on, keep going. I've got a gun here, I'll use it. You just keep going like this and no tricks. Otherwise, I'm going to blow a hole right through your wife's head. I've had experience in these things. You are listening to Backseat Driver, tonight's presentation in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills. Suspense. For that phrase, Thursday night, hang on to your chair and bring in the whole family to keep you company because you'll want some people near you when the whistler comes around. You'll hear his mysterious whistle open the door to another mystery on most of these same CBS radio stations. And now, we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage Miss Vivy Janus and Mr. Parley Bear starring in tonight's production, Backseat Driver, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. I drove that car like we were skirting the rim of the Grand Canyon with nothing between us and the bottom but a mile of country air. This was it. The thing that happens to other people, to the ones that end up on slabs in the morgue, but not to me, not to Ellie. The first car we'd seen since we left traffic swooped down behind us. It passed, but not before the headlights caught our passenger clean in my rear view mirror. He was hunched forward, sitting on the edge of the backseat so as he could keep the gun rammed into the nape of Ellie's neck. He had light brown hair, pale eyes, and a nose that slanted. His mouth twitched, jittery. As the car went by, his eyes caught mine in the mirror and flickered. Keep your eyes on the road. Sure. Sure. Lose your hat. Right, boy. Like I said, you know all the answers. No, I didn't lose it. I stuffed it down a drain. Still wearing the blue suit, though. I figured it changed pretty quick now. I think yours will fit. You can have the suit and the car. Just let us. Shut up. Let's see if you can both be bright enough to keep your trap shut. Turn left on Ventura. Take the slow line. Don't try playing no tricks. I've been here before. OK by me. That's real wide-out. Straight out to open country, Mac. Then I'll take the Mrs. up on that offer to suit and the car. What happens to us? Well, you just walk home. What else? Play it safe and you ain't got a thing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. Once we got out into open country, we didn't have a chance of walking away from that car. All a murderer can hope for is time he doesn't leave witnesses around to get the law on his tail one second sooner than necessary. All I could do was stall and pray and make what feeble gestures I could at Lady Luck. The thing that came into my mind was so risky it brought my hair up on end, but there was a chance provided that trigger finger didn't start jerking. In the bright lights of the boulevard, I didn't think he'd notice, but a traffic officer would. I turned into Ventura and took the far lane, obedient as a whip pup. We must have made two or three miles before I heard what I was hoping for. What's that? An ambulance, I guess. There ain't no ambulance. It's a motorcycle cop. Joe, it's young Mike Kennedy. He patrols this place. What are you up to? What are you trying to pull? Nothing. The kid's a friend of ours. You think you can be easier? I want you. Listen, will you? The kid lives near us, practically grew up under our feet. All he wants is to pass the time of day or maybe send a message to our Annie. Yeah. I'll be dead. Keep your shirt on and I'll get rid of it. But buddy, it better be good. Kerb and Mike came up alongside. He sat balancing the bike between his knees and the grin on his face was a mile wide. It had worked. At least we were still alive and Mike wasn't two feet away. But where'd we go from here? I had to think that my brain was wet wool and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Good evening, sir. Well, what do you know if it isn't Uncle Joe? Something funny, kid? After all the times you've read us the riot act about observing the letter of the law. Oh, brother, we'd like to tell Annie. What's the matter with you, Mike? I didn't notice anything wrong. Hi, Aunt Ellie. Oh, nothing much the matter. Just Uncle Joe here proceedings to date lay out the boulevard with his headlights up full. Headlights? My golly, that's right. I must have forgotten to dim them. Now we ought to forget these things. Someday a big bad cop might come along and haul you out to the sta... Oh, hello. This is our new neighbor, Mike. Mr. Anderson. All right. Oh, glad to meet you, sir. I didn't know there were any vacancies out our way. Well, there weren't until recently. Mr. Anderson has taken the Charles Place. The Charles Place? You kidding? No. At last it looks like things got too much for old man Charles. He's clearing out for good. What kind of sudden, wasn't it? Yeah, I guess so. Oh, that's too bad. Pro man Charles, I mean. Mighty nice for Mr. Anderson, though. Good places are hard to find these days. All right, Uncle Joe. I'll let you off this time. Give my love to Annie. Mike. Yes, sir? Watch it, dude. Nothing. Come see us soon, boy. Always glad to have you. Oh, thanks. I'll be around my next night off. Got a date for Annie. That was that. Mike turned his bike and headed back down the boulevard. The chance had come and gone. But it felt to me like half my mind went off of that boy yelling at him. It must have been half a minute before I could pull myself together and ease back into traffic. Nobody said anything. I didn't dare to, neither did Ellie. I couldn't see her, but I could feel her holding herself stiff as a ramrod, scared even to turn her head. When two people have lived together as long as we have, each one knows what the other one's thinking. I went back to driving and praying. That and cutting my eyes up to the mirror, just in case there might be a white motorcycle eye following us. There wasn't, of course. In the back, I knew he was watching, too. Those flickering eyes darting like lightning between us and the rear window. The way I'd figured it, we'd started out with just about enough gas to get us back to Bill's station. When we hit that, the meter ought to show empty. The gas gauge was hidden from me by the rim of the steering wheel, but I was pretty sure I was right. I waited until I saw the red and green lights above Bill's pumps a block and a half away and then very slow and easy. I slumped over for a peek at the gauge. I leaned just a little too far. Sit up, bud. Sure. What now? What were you looking at? I was just easing the crick out of my neck. Yes, you were. You were looking at the dash. So that's it. Fresh out of gas. Now, look, I just remembered it. Don't give me that. You know it all along. From now on, you keep your hands on the wheel, Mac, but let me do the driving. So you know that filling station, get high-test gas and fill it up. Hi, Joe. Evening, Ellie. Hi, Bill. Good evening, Bill. Oh, evening, sir. Up to the top? Yeah. Apple. Apple it is. Here you've been to the pictures. Yeah. People know everybody in the whole valley. Well, we've lived here 20 years. From back when this was farmland, of course we know lots of people. I don't like it. Just get fired and get out of here. Make it five, Bill. Okay. Say I was up to Miranda's for supper. Yeah, right? Boy, her chili gets better every time. Don't see how it can, but it does. She's saving some for you, you know. Said you'd be around after the show. Oh, my. I saw Miranda this afternoon. Told her we'd be by for sure, Joe. Well, that'll be $1.50 on the nose. $1.50 and a half. Here, thanks, Bill. Well, same to you. What was all that about that Miranda stuff? Nothing much. Come on. Come on. I gotta ask you everything twice. She runs a drive-in up the road a ways. On show nights, we usually drop in for a carton of chili to take home. I just hope she won't call home when we don't show up and get Annie all worried. Wait a minute. Drive-in, you said? Yeah. And is Miranda gonna start checking on you? Oh, no, I didn't mean that. It's just that... She could call your Annie in between the two of them. They'd have the cops on a lookout for you before midnight. Oh, you're crazy. Yeah, like a fox. I ain't kept ahead of the buttons all this time by taking chances. We'll just pick up that chili, Mac. You want me to go to Miranda's? Why not? Will you, Annie, get a beauty sleep? I can cover a lot of ground before tomorrow morning. I ain't eaten so good lately. I could use the food, too. With you and a missus to front for me, what's to worry about? He was right about that. I went back to driving and praying. Miranda's plays one of those goldfish bowls, mostly glass, with light pouring out across the space marked for outside service. She saw us pulling up and grabbed a quart carton off the back shelf and hustled to the door. I was just saying to Betsy, better fix up that chili, Betsy. It's about time Ellie and Joe was showing up, figuring the distance from Beverly Hills. Oh, who's that in the back seat? I don't seem to recollect your face, young man. Though anybody will tell you, I never forget a face. Well, this is Mr. Anderson, Miranda. He just came out from the east. Oh, is that a fact? Say, Joe, you planning to go straight up into our home? Why, sure. Well, don't you do it. Go the back way, even if it does take longer. Of course, that brush fire between here and your place is out, but there are still 50, 60 men patrolling it. What's that? But that ain't nothing to what's going on further out the valley. That new fire's clean out of control, licking up hundreds of acres. They've been sending truckloads of firefighters past year all evening. Roads blocked for miles, they tell me. The road is blocked? For miles, they tell me. All them poor ranchers losing their homes. Being from the east, Mr., you wouldn't understand, but brush fires is awful things once they get out of control. Yeah, yeah, thanks. Joe, suppose we start moving, huh? Let's take the back way to your house. To our house? What say? You stay in with Ellie and Joe? Yeah, until I can get into my own place. What are we waiting for, Joe? Good night, Miranda. Well, goodbye. Be sure you come see me, Mr. Anderson. I'll be looking for you. It was. We weren't going to the country. We weren't going to be left to rot at the foot of a cliff or bury deep in brush. No, we were going home. Home to the kids, and taking a murderer with us. I still couldn't see Ellie, but I could feel her tensing up, tight as a pulled drawstring. Mr. Matric, you... didn't mean what you said, did you, about coming home with us? You know a better place I can hide out until the road's open? Well, it wouldn't be safe. We've got neighbors close all round. Nobody's going to see me. Nobody better. Joe, couldn't we go round the fire? Yeah, yeah, we couldn't. We could try. There are other roads through the valley. Now listen, Matric, we'll nose around and find a way through somehow. Everybody hundreds of acres burning firefighters' cops. Get off the highway. We're going home. No. No, I won't have it. Joe, you stop the car right here. Shut up. You heard me, Joe. I won't have him in my house, not with Annie and Bub. I said shut up! But stop it, I tell you. It doesn't matter about us. It's the kids. I won't let him touch us. One more word out of you. Joe, stop! Now, don't say another thing. I'm sorry, honey, but it's the boss. We've got to do like he says. Yeah, that's telling her. Sure, you do like I say, and everything's going to be rosy. You've got no call to worry about. The kids, I like kids. As long as nobody gives me the brush off, we'll wake them up soon as we get home. You and his Annie can fix up a chili supper for us. We'll have a picnic. And as soon as the fire's off, we'll all take a trip to the country. Another picnic, huh? Yeah. It had to come to an end. I saw the bulk of the house looming up. There was light sneaking around the edges of the blinds up in Annie's room. She wasn't asleep after all. She'd been setting up in bed, maybe plaster and red stuff on her fingers and dreaming about the date with Mike. Bud's room was dark. He'd be wrapped in covers like a cocoon and dreaming... whatever boys dream, I couldn't remember. I pulled up to the concrete walk I'd poured with my own hands before there was any Annie or Bud. And then I cut the lights. In a second or two, my eyes got used to the dark. I could make out the high-hedge Ellie planted around the place and our roof rising up beyond it. Out, Mrs. Waste the house. Now you, Mac, slide out the same side, stand beside her. Oh, no funny business. I'm right behind you. All right, Uncle Joe. And Ellie? Ellie, you all right? All right. Smacked flat on my face on a concrete walk and you falling on me. There's nothing wrong with her. That's my girl. Well, just don't stand there. Help me up. Here. There we are. I've got to get in the house before the kids come busting out here. I won't have them mixed up in this. Well? How's he doing, boy? I got him through the gun hand and the right shoulder, see? Lucky shot, cop. You weren't lucky at all. They'd call me now. Maybe. Matrix isn't a good idea. Matrix isn't it, Uncle Joe? That's him. Miranda described him to you? The old girl doesn't miss a trick. She even knew you were taking the back way home. You left a clear trail, Uncle Joe. That slick work. I had to get him out of the car before the fireworks started. Ellie didn't stand a chance. She helped, though. Ellie catches on quickly. I'll bet. Mean guy like Matrix, you make him think you don't want him to do something, he'll break his neck doing it. I let on how I was trying to run out of gas and that got us to bills. I was made out there was no sense going to Miranda's so we get bold into going to Miranda's. It was a thousand to one. She'd run off at the mouth about the brush fires and scare him into hiding out. After that, all Ellie had to do was turn on the hysterics. He was dead set on coming here. Yeah, yeah. Bright boy, like I said. Yeah, bright enough. You did all right, too, Mike. I was watching the rear view mirror all the time you were trailing this, but you never showed. You knew I was there, though. When one officer starts double-talking another officer, he wants to know why. I said a thing to him except that I'd bought some place out here. Yeah. The Charles Place. Poor old man, Charles. In a tough spot. Moving out for good. What's wrong with that? Matrix, didn't anybody ever tell you it wasn't smart to take up with strangers? Maybe I'd better introduce myself. My name's Charles. Joe Charles, detective, homicide. Tonight I was off duty, just taking my wife to a movie. Suspense. In which Mr. Parley Bear and Miss Vivi Janes starred in tonight's presentation of Backseat Driver. Next week, the story of twin identities in crime. It is based upon fact. We call it The Greatest Thief in the World. That's next week on... Suspense. Suspense is produced and directed by Anthony Ellis. Tonight's script was written by Miss Sally Thorson. The music was composed by Rene Garaghan and conducted by Wilbur Hatch. Featured in the cast were Larry Thor, Tony Barrett, Jack Edwards, Joe Pranston, and Helen Pleath. Thor's Address is the CBS Radio Network.