 Boris Karloff on Inner Sanction Mystery, brought to you by the makers of Carter's Pills. Good evening, friend. Let me welcome you once more to the Inner Sanction. This is Raymond, your host. Tell me, won't you, and sit down? No, no, I'm not being polite. I'd prefer you to sit today, because within the next five minutes you're going to be so weak in the need that you won't be able to stand. Inner Sanction Mysteries again has the pleasure of bringing you the famous star of radio screen and stage, now featured in the current Broadway success, Arsenic and Oleis, Boris Karloff. This evening, Mr. Karloff appears in Robert Newman's dramatization of Edgar Allan Poe's famous story, The Tell-Tale Heart, presented for your entertainment by the makers of Carter's Little Liver Pill, the best friend to your sunny disposition. Now our story. The story based on the tale by the greatest master of the macabre that ever lived, Edgar Allan Poe. The story of a man who could hear not only every sound on earth, but even things that don't exist. So, turn down the lights, call in a friend or neighbor to keep you company, and listen to Boris Karloff as Simon in the Tell-Tale Heart. It's early evening, the sun is just setting behind a range of low hills, and top of the nearest hill is a huge rambling building surrounded by park-like grounds, a road winds from its gates down to the little village below. Down this road comes a man. He's tall, gaunt, his hair is snow white. He's so busy with his spot that he doesn't see the small dark man who sits by the roadside, but just as he is about to pass him. Good evening. Oh, my good evening. Nice evening, isn't it? Nice. Why, it's the most wonderful, perfect evening. I'll ever know this sight of heaven. You don't say. And you can't know what it's like to feel as if you just risen from the dead, as if your tomb was open, and you were told that you would return to the world that you knew and loved. Can I? You can't. You see, my name is Simon. I was a musician. Two years ago, I went stone deaf, suddenly, completely. Do you know what deafness means to a musician? It's like dying, or worse, like dying and knowing that you're dead. I went to doctors, but they could do nothing for me. But finally, one of them sent me to see the doctor who has the place up on the hill here. Dr. Adair? Yes, Dr. Adair. He kept him with him for six months, and now, now I'm going home again. We cured you? You can hear? Hear? Listen. Listen hard, and tell me what you can hear right now. Nothing very much. The wind? Cricket? Cricket and the wind. Do you know what I can hear? I can hear the grass growing, the sap rising in the trees. I can hear the stars moving in their courses. I can hear things that no man ever heard before. Now, do you know why I said that this was the most wonderful evening that ever was? Yes, Simon. But I knew why before. You see, I just left the place up on the hill myself. You left there. You mean... When I was taken there, I was blind. Oh. Your eyes. Yes, I... I haven't noticed before that they are. Ladies, shall we walk on together? Simon? I just... Where did you plan to go? Well, I've been thinking about that for weeks now. All the weeks when I couldn't leave my room. I was getting used to being able to hear again. Gradually. From my window, I could see an old mill. Just this side of the village. Yes, it's deep in the woods. Deserted. There's moss on the water wheel. And the door hangs open by one hand. You mean that you can see it from here? My eyes have become as good as your hearing. You thought of going there, living there for a while, until I was ready to return to the world. Oliver, why don't you come with me? Then when we are both ready, we can go back together to the world. I could do that. Think of what it's going to mean, how much we're going to be able to help people. You will be our site and I with my hearing. Perfect. Yes. Yes, of course. All right, Simon. We'll go to your old mill. Well, Oliver, up this path. Pause it. Pause it. Someone's coming. The farmer. He seems to be looking for something. Good evening. I'm looking for my cow. Have you seen her? What kind of a cow is she? A brown and a white one with a crooked horn. Wait. I hear her. She's grazing in the field on the other side of the woods. Here? That's almost a mile from here. I have good ears. Good. You must have ears like a fox. What? That field. That's the squares. How did you get there? You think someone took her? Who would? Well, it's the square's land, but he's the richest man around here. Why should he have taken my cow? Wait a minute. Ah, let me see. Yes. Yes, I do see someone with your cow. He's just leaving her. You can see that? Right through the woods? I have good eyes. Who is it? What's he like? Is he tall, wearing a brown jacket? Yes. I knew it. It's the square. He's trying to steal my cow. I'd better go get her. Thank you very much. Perhaps I'll see you both again. Perhaps. We'll both be staying around here for a while there in the old mill. Why did you tell him that, Oliver? Did you really see the square taking his cow? I saw what he wanted me to see. What do you mean? He hates the square because the square's rich and he's poor. But what? Never mind, Simon. Shall we go on to the mill? Here we are. And it's just the way I knew it would be. The wires, peaceful, no noises, just sound. And even those are dulled by the waterfall. Yes, it's just the way I knew it would be too. Dark, dank. The home of the rats and spiders. We'll be happy living here with them. Happy with rats and spiders? Why? Because they're like me. Rats see in the dark. And spiders, thin webs. I don't understand you, Oliver. Must you all be seen the worst, the most evil side of everything? Always. But why? Don't you love people? Don't you think that this is a good world? A good world when I was blind for more than two years. But who's fault was that? What difference does that make? I was blind. And did anyone care that I was? No. Love people. I hate them. But, Oliver, that's wrong. You've no right to hate anyone or anything. What's wrong? What? It sounds like wings, like... Yes, there it is, there. A swallow. Why, it's frightened, trying to get out. Why, it's beating itself against the wall and... Oh, poor thing. It's hurt itself. Fall into the ground. I'd better catch it. Is it badly hurt? No, I don't think so. Oh, just this one wing. Yeah, let's see. Perhaps we can put a splint on it, heal it. Do you think so? Here. Here, Oliver. But be gentle. It's still terribly frightened. I will. I will. Oh, Oliver! What are you doing to that bird? Doing... Glad you... Well, you crushed the swallow. Killed it. Well, so it has. You... You killed it... Deliberately. You think so? I told you we all have some badness deep inside us. Even you. Here you are ready to believe the worst of me, that I'd wantonly crush a... a harmless little spider to death and... Simon. What is it? I... I don't know, but there's something in your face. Something that wasn't there before. I don't know what you're talking about. I'm going up to bed. Simon! Simon, wait! Yes, it wasn't he that was blind. It was I, I. Or he's bad. Evil, clean fool. He's like one of the spiders he loves so much. Lurking here and spinning, cunning webs to catch innocent people in. And what he saw in my face just now, there was something there. Something that wasn't there before. Death. Why did this have to happen to me? I was so happy just a little while ago, I loved everyone the whole world. And now... now I have to kill him. And here I am, friend. Raymond, your host in the Inner Sanctum. Who also loves everyone. So, Simon has decided he must murder his companion. Not because he wants to, but in order to keep him from spreading the hate and evil he seems to love. That's a charming idea. But if Oliver's eyes are as good as he says they are, good enough to see death in Simon's face, how will he be able to do it, hmm? Quite a problem, isn't it? Well, Raymond, everyone has problems. It's the answer that counts. Yes, it does, Mr. Hurley. He's in a mystery drama. Yes, and in a domestic drama, too. If you don't believe it, listen to what Agnes Vail says to her husband at the dinner table. Bob, you haven't said a word about the case, and I've dated it, especially for your birthday. After 30, no one wants to be reminded of birthdays. That's silly. Besides, a person only as old as they seem. Well, if that was the case, I'd be about 60. You mean 90. No one could save up the grouch you've gotten only 60 years. If you fell as irritable low and out of sort as I have lately, of course I would. Anybody would. So the thing to do is have to feel that way. What can anyone do about it? Very simple, my dear. Try Carter's little liver pills. Right, and when you don't feel good, try Carter's little liver pills. They do the work of Calamol but have no Calamol in them. For they are simple pills made of vegetable drugs. They wake up the flow of one of our most vital, digestive juices. When this vital juice flows at the rate of two points a day, it helps to digest our food and bring back the glorious feeling that goes with regularity. Then most folks feel like happy days are here again. But be sure you get the genuine Carter's little liver pill. Well, friends, are you sorry I advised you to sit down before? I thought not. You still want me to go on with the story of the telltale heart? Very well. It's a little later that same evening and Simon is sitting in the upper story of the old deserted mill. Waiting, listening. Sleep, Oliver, sleep. Aren't you ever going to sleep? Oh, I know you're lying down. I heard you getting undressed. I even heard the thread snap when you pulled that button off your shirt. But you're not asleep yet. I can tell by your breathing the way your heart's beating. And that's what I must wait for. The time when you're really asleep, when you close those hawk eyes that can see even in the dark that could read murder in my face when I didn't know it was there myself. Wait a minute. Oh, you're asleep. Oh, now I must go. Easy with the door. Careful. You won't wake up. He can't. And even if he does, I'm out and held him over his face and smothered him. That's it, yes. Then I wouldn't have to touch him. Who's there? Who's there? There is someone there. I can see you. It's Simon. Yes, it's Simon. What do you want? What are you doing here? I know you've come to kill me. Yes, Oliver. I've come to kill you. You can't do that. Yes, Oliver, I can. And I have to. Oh, please. I don't like that. I'm stronger than you are. You can't get away from me. Pounding, driving the blood through your veins. Slowly now. Slower and painter. Running down like a tired clock. I'm not going to let you go until it's not me interested in hurting people. That's why I had to do it. And that's why I'm not going to give myself up or confess that I killed you because I could still help people. You understand, don't you? That's why I must get rid of your body, hide it somewhere. Oh, what am I to do with you? I know. I'll keep you here. Tear up the floor and hide you underneath it. It's one here and there. It should be big enough. And now... Oliver, goodbye. Build them down again with the same rusty nails. Spread this dust over the cracks. No one will be able to tell what I've done. No. Not even with your eyes. Don't use them. A light. A lantern outside. Trent. The constable. The constable? What do you want? Oh, nothing much. Thought I'd dropped in. Say hello. Come in, constable. Come right in. Thanks. We're a time of nights to be visiting, but I rather was strangers living out here and I thought I might. Well, of course it's part of your job to investigate strangers, isn't it? No way. Not that you're a stranger, exactly. What do you mean? You've been around here for some time, haven't you? About Dr. Dare's place and the hill I mean. Oh, yes, yes, of course. I just left there this afternoon. Huh? A new friend? Where is he? Sleeping friend. There's no one here with me. I'm all alone. Look at that, dear shirt. Do you mind if I look around? No, of course not. Not today. Now, cure word or anything like that. No, no, don't. Apologize, constable. Go right ahead. Well, constable. There should be no sign of anyone else. Well, I told you so. Yes, you did. Now, I'll just sit down here for a minute. My pipe's going. No, no, not that. Don't sit there. Yeah. Because... Well, it was just that the floor looked a little rotten and I was afraid that... What? I guess it's all right. You don't have to hold me anyway. Don't step in if I've hurt you. That's what? That noise. Beating away like... I don't hear any noise. But you must, you... Those ears are fine. Sometimes they're too good. It's just your watch ticking. Watch? I haven't got a watch on me. You? You haven't? But then what? Well, I... I could use a bit of exercise. But suppose I walk you back to the village. Well, that's mighty nice of you. Glad to have your company. But there's no worries, eh? Let's sit here for a while and... I don't want to sit. Constable, will you come now? Now, this minute, if you don't... I don't know what I'll do. Hey, you have gotten yourself into a state. Is anything the matter? Oh, no, of course not. It's... Oh, it's just that I get nervous, restless and... You won't mind if I... If I walk up and down right here, will you? It'll make you feel any better. Go ahead. Thank you. This floor, it... It is noisy, isn't it? It isn't noisy enough. Constable, this... This lever here, I've been wondering about it. What's it for, you know? Well, yes. I think it opens the slouch, starts the middle wheel turn. It does, then. And it tries. See if it still works. There. Yeah, still works all right. It's better I can do. You're not loud enough, still. Constable, by heaven's sake, will you come now? Leave here with me. If you don't, I'll go back. Look, look, there's no need to get so excited. Right if I'm not excited. Perfectly calm and quiet. Will you come now, right away? But I told you. I know what you're doing. Sitting there, pretending you haven't heard. Making me stay here and listen to it. Beating louder and louder and louder. I confess, I thought it eats you under the floor. I kill you. And that noise you hear is its heart. The beating of its bell-tail heart. Oh, doctor, dear. Oh, Constable, hello. Well, did you find him? Yes, doctor. I'm glad. Some of my boys will be bringing the other one, Oliver, along in a little while. Bringing him? Isn't that a little bit him? Well, sort of. They were in the old mail by the river. Simon had evidently tried to kill Oliver, but he hadn't done a good job of it. He nailed him up underneath the floor. And when we got him out, he was unconscious, and he was still pretty weak. I see. Bring Simon in, will you? Sure. All right, Simon, in here. Yes, Constable? Now, turn him around so that he's facing me. That's it. Well, hello, Simon. Hello, doctor. Simon, why did you run away from here this afternoon? Run away? I didn't run away. I left. What need was there for me to stay when I was cured? Oh. And what you did or rather tried to do to Oliver? Ah, that was wrong. I know it was wrong, but I had to do it. He was bad, doctor. Bad. He hated everyone, wanted to hurt them, and I couldn't let him. You know, it's strange, Constable. Two men, both mental cases, because of a sudden affliction. But while Oliver's blindness made him hate, Simon's deafness filled him with love for all mankind. Deafness? You mean he's deaf? But when you talk to him, he answers you. Yes, he reads lips. That's why I had you turn him around so he was facing me. But he's stone deaf. He will never hear again. What's that you'll say? I'm deaf, but I'm not deaf. Well, there's no one can hear better than I, no one. I heard everything when I left here. Things no man has ever heard before. The song of the swan, the breathing of the fish, while I even heard the beating of Oliver's heart after I'd killed him. Yes, Simon, of course. I'm not deaf, I tell you. I'm not. I'm not. Simon did hear all the things he said he did. Even the beating of the tell-tale heart. And not with his ears, but with something else deep inside his poor, sick brain. Speaking of tell-tale heart, I saw it's not hard at all. It's just Mr. Hurley, his knees knocking together. And if you think you're kidding, Raymond, you're crazy. We're not kidding, Ed, and Mr. Carlisle's audiences, that's the equivalent of applause, since everyone's generally much too scared to show the usual approval with their hands. So we won't take any chances, we'll just use words and say thanks for us, Carlisle, for your splendid performance of tonight's dramatization of Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart. It is a pleasure, Raymond, to be able to bring our friends one of the world's most famous stories. And I'm very grateful to Everett Sloan as Oliver and Charles Cortiata who played Christie for the help that they gave me. So now I suggest that you listen to Ed Hurley, who has some helpful advice for which you may be very grateful. This is Raymond again, your host, getting ready to close that door to the Inner Sanctum and say good night until the same time next week. In the meantime, if you care to do a little blood-thirsty reading, try this month's Inner Sanctum novel. I'll eat you last. It's the Brandon. In case you've already read that, why not try some of the other stories by the author of tonight's mystery drama, Edgar Allan Poe. According to all critics, this writer has quite a future. Oh, good night. Pleasant dream. Inner Sanctum mysteries will be on here again next Sunday night, same station, same time with another chiller, poor thriller fan. So be with us then. This is Ed Hurley speaking for the makers of Carter's Little Liverpool and reminding you, when you don't feel good, try Carter's Little Liverpool, the best friend to your sunny disposition. This is the Blue Network of the National Broadcasting Company.