 If you were planning to commit murder openly, and yet wanted not to be caught, you would of course choose a time of year when the streets would be filled with people. People in outlandish costume, celebrating a holiday. In fact, the perfect night for your crime would be Halloween. Hello creeps. This is T4Y opening the doors to the mystery playhouse. I feel a word of explanation is due about tonight's play. It's called The Ghost with the Gun. It was written by Anthony Boucher, and it's a story that could take place only on the night of all Hallows, Halloween. It's a wonderful device Mr. Boucher has used, a clever and ingenious device. And so I'm going to ask you to imagine for the next 25 minutes that it is Halloween. And you're busy answering doorbells, wrong by children busy playing trick or treat. Or, if you'd rather, you may be one of the players. There isn't anything unusual about people living in stores in Berkeley, California. Most of their owners abandoned them to fight for Uncle Sam, and were glad enough to rent them out to the war workers who had piled into town, looking for any available space they might try to call home. Tonight in one of these two floors, our man and woman. There might be any ordinary, fairly young couple, as she sews and he tries to concentrate on the evening paper. They might be, but inside they're missing. What's wrong Rose? Another one of those kids with a mask at the window. It's trying to scare us. So just encouraging them then, answering the door every time and giving them candy when they ring? That's what I bought it for. Don't forget honey, we were kids once. Trick or treat. You know what I mean, mister? Do I get a treat or play Halloween tricks on you instead? Well, I guess it'll have to be a treat this time. Gee, candy, two hands full. Thanks, mister. Trick or treat. Wonder what they do if I held out on them sometime. Not much to this place. Please don't remind me that I gotta live here with you and that Joe Barker in a store facing right on the street, where you gotta soap up your own windows so people can't look in and think you're an ad for tomato juice or something. Listen honey, where is there a safer place for me to hold up Berkley's full of transients now? Nobody keeps an eye on strangers. Too many of them. And with Joe already worked in here it was a natural. How do you know you can trust Joe? Don't worry about him, we're old buddies. I told you that honey. I'd sure like to know where he's getting all the money he throws around. You don't earn all that out at the war plant. Don't ask too many questions, Rose. Then you don't get into any trouble. Oh, Ben, if that's another one of those. Ah, honey, they're just having fun. Trick or treat, mister. Trick or treat, huh? These kids got a swell racket, you know. Shake down, we used to call it back in... Then. Okay, Rose. I'm sorry. Trick or treat, mister. Here's some candy. Run along, kid. Hey, thanks. You're okay, mister. Have a little treat for us, honey. I brought a bottle home for Halloween. Oh, wait till Joe comes home from the movies. He'll have a drink with you. I gotta have to drink now to Halloween right now. Ben, even that stuff don't give you courage anymore. That's okay. I've got enough courage to hang on to you. Oh, let's get out of this place, Ben. You can't do any good here sitting in the house all day afraid of your own shadow. Turn it out, Rose. It's true. I know you're scared. Now, don't if I don't like Halloween. Boy, how Joe and I used to celebrate back in Chicago when we was kids. Maybe that's what got us started. You walk up to some dope and you tell them trick or treat or else. Oh, don't go, Ben. Maybe they'll leave us alone. Just one more, honey. I'm having fun. Trick or treat, Mr. Flaxner. Mr. Flaxner, it is this time. Well, you're a real polite ghost. But suppose I said trick this time. Mr. Ghost, guess what would you do? Ben! Rose. Rose, honey. It's shot. Somebody shot it. What's that? You're, you've hurt Ben. Ben, say something. Don't die. Rose, what's happened? You're home. I've fainted, I guess. Ben. Ben's dead, Rose. Rose, you shot him. No, Joe. No, I didn't do it. Just one of them kids that come play in Halloween tricks. It was dressed like a ghost. Then what's the gun doing here on the floor? I didn't see it before, Joe. Honest. The ghost, that thing, whatever it was, must have thrown it in here afterwards. What was it? Couldn't you see? Just something white sort of floating away in the dark. Oh, okay. I'm not surprised. Joe, Ben was mixed up in something back in Chicago. Had to come out here. He shot a man, Joe. I can tell you now. Johnny Angelina was his name. They called him the angel. I got crossed up in black market liquor. That's why we had to skip town, why he left then sent for me. Oh, so that was it. I knew he was scared of his skin. But you and me, baby, we gotta keep our linen clean. What do you mean, Joe? And I'm not like him. I've got sense. And first I gotta get rid of this gun. You still think that I... I don't care who did it. You know I went for you like a ton of bricks when I first laid eyes on you. Oh, don't, Joe, please. No. Not like this with him lying there. Okay, baby. But I gave Ben his break. Now I'm looking out for you and me. Understand? Oh, Joe, don't leave me alone with him. I'm getting a San Francisco train right now. Paying a local fare, getting off the first stop and walking back. Now leave this gun on the train. You get it? What if somebody comes? Maybe they heard the shot. You're nerve, baby. It's not likely anybody will show up if nobody's come by this time. Now give me five minutes, then call the police. But, Joe, what did they think about... I was alone with them. Tell them the same story you told me. You still think that I... I told you, don't care. You and me. They like this from now on. Joe, Joe, don't you. You're hurting me. No, no, no. Joe. That's us. Now give me five minutes and then get on that phone. And so, Miss Franklin, you and the murdered man were sharing this place. With me, Inspector. You say we shot about 7.30 or so? About that time, Inspector. We had the radio on listening to one of those mystery programs and was over just a short time before. That's right, Inspector. I heard it myself. It's off the air at 7.30. Oh, it's you, Willoughby. You're no good rookie cop. Where were you when I wanted you? You heard what the lady said, listening to the mystery program. Well, just keep out of my way, Willoughby. I'm doing all right without you. You messed me up this time with your phony clothes and the armed services won't be the only thing you'll be recently discharged from. All right, Joe. Your name's Joe Barker, that right? Correct, Joe Barker. And where were you when I... I was at a movie. One of them double bills at the campus theater. Don't go. It's lousy. Oh, yeah? Well, look, Barker, what time was it when you were at the show? Oh, I got out about 7.30. Takes about 20 minutes to get up here. I was walking. What about the gun, Inspector? The men haven't found it yet, Willoughby. No where on this block, anyways. But they did find this. That's it. The white sheet and the mask. Whoever shot Ben was wearing it. Well, that might help us some. Might help us, Inspector? I'd say it tells us from the size of the sheet our murderer would have to be five feet or under to be completely covered in disguise. That's right. He looked awful short. I am. Either of you happen to know anybody five feet or under who might have wanted this man out of the way? J. Inspector, I don't know right off. Joe, what about that, that hunchback? Say, you're right, Rose. Listen, Inspector, Miss Franklin here and I heard Ben and this hunchback having a row one night. He wouldn't say what it was about. A hunchback? Wait. And there's somebody else. Helen, a girl named Helen Kirk. Oh, Rose, you don't think... Oh, Joe and I. Well, she was a friend of Ben's before I came out here. She works out where Joe does. She's little, not over five feet. A hunchback and a doll, huh? Hmm. Miss Franklin, where did you say you and Ben Flaxen came from? Chica... Cheyenne. You didn't mean to say Chicago, did you? No. Cheyenne. Both of us come from there. All right. That'll be all for now. Don't leave town. I'll be wanting to see both of you again. Well, Inspector, uncovered any startling facts since my roast beef and coffee? No dope on Flaxen at all from Cheyenne, will it be? I thought not. Well, look at these wires. I've got plenty from Chicago and Washington, too. So they know Ben Flaxen's fingerprints both places? I thought the girls slipped up about Chica... Cheyenne. He was in the black market in Chicago? Hmm. And liquor, mostly. Doing all right, too, until some mugged me Johnny Angiolino got bumped off. Well, they think Flaxen did it. They said the cops couldn't get anything on him, but they think Angiolino's pals did. That's why Flaxen are blue town. Johnny Angiolino, that... That may sound similar. Well, you probably remember him as the Angel Inspector. He was a dwarf four feet eight or nine, I'd say, at the most. Just the right size for our trick-or-treat killer. Hmm. A ghost with a gun. Oh, but he couldn't be Willoughby. Ghosts don't come back and kill their own murderers with the same gun used on them. Or do they? Oh, don't go on it, Willoughby. I know you get me all bald up again if I let you in on this case. Take it easy, Inspector. Remember, we have two other suspects besides the ghost. Let's check up on their alibis. Who's the door? Open this door. Who are you? What do you want? It's late. I go to sleep. What do you want? In, first of all. Ah, it's better. Sorry to get you out of bed, but it's really only half past twelve. Gene-only poor unspec. What do you want with me? Plenty. You're handling black market poultry. You had a row with a corpse of mine. It happens he used to play black market games, too. I don't talk. No? You better come along with me. Maybe the boys can persuade you to open up. I don't go with you. Okay, big boy, drop that gun. When did he come in? Just now, in just in time, I guess. Maybe not, not while I have it. You take this. I guess that'll put him where we want him for a while. Magino? I did. What's your game, impersonating an officer? Impersonating? I hope you know. I hope the inspector never hears that one. He's the right to take me away. So you're in this with a hunchback. My name's O'Rourke, bud. Take a look at this. I wrote your old investigation. Well, on the level. Since when are the FBI and city police playing cops and robbers with each other? Here's my credential for care. Oh, that's a good one. Yeah, except it landed on my chin. I'm sorry, Willoughby. I took you for one of the black market boys mixed up with Gino here. Yeah. What's a G-man doing stooging for a black market operator? Turn that the other way around, Willoughby. Gino's our stooge in a whale of a good one. I thought you were from the gang he's working at. I helped it all. Helped to catch you, black market. But what were you doing with Ben Flaxner? Well, one of the black market boys see him, telling me he used to work with Johnny Angeline. Maybe he will work with us. Then we catch him. He telling me, think about it. Okay, but where were you tonight at 7.30? He was with me, Willoughby, making out a report. Well, I guess that still leaves me with a ghost. A ghost? Yeah, a ghost and a doll. I think I'll check on the doll first. Miss Helen Kirk, I believe. How'd you get in my apartment? Your landlady was very helpful when she found out I was the law. You're a cop. Where do you get off coming here at this hour? Yeah, my wife says nearly 1.30. I just quit work. Then I don't suppose you heard about Ben Flaxner. Benny, what's happened to him? Tonight, between 7.30 and 8.00 some time, he was shot and killed. What? Who'd want to kill Benny? That's what I'm trying to find out. You and a murdered man were friends. Sure I knew Benny. Before he brought her out here. Oh, he hadn't told you about Rose Franklin before. No, he didn't. A little skunk. Oh, well, pardon me. I guess now I ought to have more respect. I guess you didn't see much of him when she arrived, huh? Well, that was no skin off my teeth. But I got plenty of other chances. I can imagine. Thanks. You're not so bad yourself. I can see you're the cute type men really go for. Yeah, I guess I'm what you might call petite. In French. Yeah, most human like them little. Like you. Come here. Look at me with my shoes off. Say, you're no bigger than a kid. Ain't it the truth? I don't even come up to your chin. No, about four feet eight and nine, I'd say. Well, you don't have to back away. I wasn't going to bite you. You know, Ben Flaksner, for whom you just mourned so prettily, was shot by someone just your height, Miss Kirk. She told you that, didn't she? She sicked your aunt to me that rose. No, no, she merely suggested I look you up. Why do you go and believe what she tells you for? She's jealous of me. How do you know she didn't make that story up? That ghost and everything to get even with me? How do you know she didn't do it uptown? Now, now, Miss Kirk, you mustn't get so excited. You think maybe I could have done it? Nobody's accusing you of anything at the moment. Well, well, well, good morning, Inspector. It's not that good, Willoughby. Did you follow that tip I gave you last night on the Kirk Dame? Yeah, yeah, I followed the tip. You checked at the Richmond plant? Yeah, I checked at the Richmond plant. You want to know what I found? One time last night was working at the time Flaxen was killed. Yeah, looks like I was, shall we say, on the wrong track. Yeah, I should say we shall. You better take this next move, sitting down, rookie. Sounds familiar. Well, shoot. We got a report on a slug. The gun that killed Flaxen was identically the same type of brand new make that killed Johnny Angelino, the angel. But, Inspector, ghosts don't come back and kill people. You said that yourself. Yeah, yeah. Maybe somebody five feet or under you said that yourself. Hey, maybe I gave myself a bum steer. Inspector, wait a minute. Can you get me that sheet in the mask we found last night? What for now? I'm visiting every kid on that block after school today. One of them must have seen that ghost with a gun last night. I don't be frightened, Tommy. You were out last night playing trick or treat, weren't you? I didn't do nothing to make the police come. Oh, look at this, Tommy. Is this your sheet in mask? No, no, it ain't. You can ask my dad and mom. They'll tell you. Yes, sure. I was at Flaxen's last night, Mr. Willoughby. Rod didn't have anything to do with him getting killed. Did you see anybody else around playing trick or treat? Sure. Sure, a lot of kids were out. Were any of them wearing this sheet in this mask? Sure. That's Terry Murdox. He lives down on the next corner. This is your sheet, isn't it, Terry? And this is the mask you wore last night. No, no, they're not mine. Your mother said they were. No, honest they're not. She said you came home early last night when right to bed and had terrible nightmares. She had to sit up with you. No, no, I didn't. You said you were so upset you couldn't go to school today. I was sick, though. Because something happened last night that frightened you. Isn't that it? Yes, yes. What was it, Terry? I don't know. Terry, you're a junior G-man, aren't you? That's what your mother said. Now, I want to help. I want you to help me. Oh, how? Something happened when you called at Flaksner's place last night, and he was shot. Now, you know what it was. I'll try to help me, Terry. Okay, I'll try. It scared me awful. I tried to yell even, but I couldn't. It was like everything bad I ever dreamed about. Inspector, this is Willoughby. What now? How about rounding up Helen Kirk and Geno the Hunchback and having them both over at Flaksner's place at seven tonight? Oh, uh, and be sure Rose Franklin and the Barker guy are there. Ronnie! Yes, Inspector, I'm giving a little Halloween party of my own tonight, even if I am a day late. And, uh, guess who's going to be guest of honor? I'm afraid. Why, Inspector, the ghost with a gun, of course. Wait a minute. I see all of our guests have arrived. Oh, yes, Mr. Willoughby. Oh, but the one you're supposed to bring. Yeah, you're a little late, aren't you, copper? But not too late, Miss Kirk. Hey, what do you want with me? You'll see, Geno. I knew two Miss Franklin and Mr. Barker. Oh, yeah? I found our ghost with a gun of last night. The one who shot Ben? No, the ghost didn't shoot Ben Flaksner, Miss Franklin. There was something standing behind our ghost, something that came sneaking up behind our little trick-or-treat boy when he was shot. Willoughby, Willoughby, please. You sure you know what you're talking about this time? This time, Inspector, yes. So, you see, our murderer didn't have to be five feet or under after all. But didn't this here ghost see who it was? This here ghost, Miss Kirk, was grabbed from behind. His mouth covered so he couldn't scream by two very long, strong arms and whisked away into the night. Oh. The ghost knows who the real killer is? He thinks he might. Oh. When the thing got him out of sight into one of the rooms, he thought he was the one who shot Ben Flaksner. He thinks he might. Oh. When the thing got him out of sight into a pitch black alley, he warned him never to tell what had happened or he'd come back and put him out of the way like he'd shot Flaksner. I thought you said you were bringing this ghost over tonight. It's guest of honor, Willoughby. He's waiting outside. Come on in, Terry. Terry Murdock. This is your ghost. And I think the thing that crouched behind him is here with us in this room right now. Am I right, Terry? Yeah. I know him now, Mr. Willoughby. Inspector, the gun. Barker's gun. I've got him. I've got him, sir. I had a nickel in my hand. There you have it. Cool it. Now let go. Yo, it was you. Man, if I'm not mistaken, this gun you were about to use is the same one you used to kill Ben Flaksner. Joe, you told me you'd left it on the train. Probably a gag, Miss Franklin, to let you think he was protecting you. He wanted to shoot that poor little guy. Because Barker's up to his neck in black market dealings here in Berkeley. Flaksner knew it and was blackmailing Barker. You can't prove anything what that kid says. Who'd believe him? I would, Barker. And besides now, I've got your gun. A ballistics test will prove the same gun you used to kill your buddy Flaksner last night. You played your last Halloween trick, Mr. Barker. Now the state's going to furnish the treat. That was The Ghost with the Gun by Anthony Boucher. And this is T4Y closing the doors to the mystery playhouse and saying good night, sleep tight. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service.