 He said it was made of iron. The spindle didn't reach it. What's that? What did you say? Boo. It's alive. Boo. Boo. His heart gets you here. It is hearted still. The witching hour when the night is darkest, our fears the strongest, and our strength at its lowest end. Midnight when the graves gave open and death strikes. How? You'll learn the answer in just a moment then. Death is no end. Tales of mystery and terror by radios masters of the Macabre. Our story by A.S. Guinesses. Death is no end. May 31st, next. May 31st, deposits $9,840.74. Withdrawal $6,302.16. Mitchell. One moment here. 6302.16. Check. Let's not stop, fellas. It's almost midnight now. We've still June to tally. Let's plow right ahead. Yes. June 1st deposits $15,972.38. We stood there in a skin-deserted bank. Two middle-aged clerks checking other people's money. Behind us loomed the wire cages. Two of them with their doors flung open. Mitchell and Phyllis Bagley, the flexible employees. Mitchell and Bagley, new kind of animal confined to their cages by day and left out at night. Perhaps all women take stock when they reach 40. Perhaps they all experience the thing I'm going through at this moment. A kind of clear, cold reality. Mitchell must have sensed the sudden surge of bitter hate. Phyllis, dear, what is it? One of your headaches? Nothing, Mitchell. Let's plow right ahead. Oh, you just wait here. When we leave the bank tomorrow evening and hop into our little car, two whole weeks in the Wisconsin woods alone begin. Won't that be wonderful? Yes, Mitchell. Now, June 15th. Yes, yes, and let's plow right ahead. Like obedient oxen. Now, June 15th. Deposit $7,400. What was that? I don't know. Hey, who put that box in there, Lee? What's that light over there? Oh, it's only old Mike Haslund. Drunk. Who's there? Answer me, I'll plug you up. Oh, take it easy, Mike. It's Phyllis and I. Oh, the Bagley's. Hehehehe. He's with old Bagley. I wouldn't be... Now, Mike, you'd better sleep it off. We'll be here another half hour. Good night. Watch me. Drunk. You don't like me doing you with some Bagley. Well, I ain't drunk. Just a little tiny. You need a little tiny every night. A little tiny game, Mr. Old Boy. You're an old drunk. I'm Phyllis. And that's Tony. Go kill him. That's all right, Mitchell. Women are all like that. Tony, kill me. Mitchell, yes. How old is he hanging? Seventy, Mike. Now, now go over there. Seventy? That's what you think. Where am I? I won't tell you. Nope, you'll never get it. The doctor says he never saw a ticker like mine. Made of iron. Nothing can kill it so hard. Nothing but liquor. Makes it stronger. Just listen to this old ticker, Mrs. Bagley. Here it is. It's me. Get him away from me. Come on now, Mike. A little tiny kill every night. Phyllis, help me. He's passing off. Nothing will kill it so hard. Oh, dear. All of a sudden, it was clear. The old drunken watchman. Everything was clear. I was 40 in my last chance to come. Sleep it off. In the president's office. Mitchell, he drinks like this every night on duty? Mike? Oh, it's nothing. All the men in the bank know about it. Except the boss. Last ten years, old Mike has been hopping out for half an hour every night that way. He kills plays around the corner. Mitchell, I'm leaving you. I'm tired of this life. Earning nothing a week, always counting the money other men have made for their women. I'm leaving you, Mitchell. Phyllis. No, honey, I knew I'd be stepping away. Maybe I'd been mapping this out unconsciously for years. But now I was in the driver's seat. Phyllis, darling, dear, why? I know we don't earn much, but... Much? $80 a week together. Tell me how to make more, Phyllis. Please, tell me anything. Anything so long as you'll stay with me. Tell me anything, Phyllis. I did. Phyllis. Phyllis, do you realize what you're saying? Phyllis. Take it or leave it, Mitchell. All the bank? As easy as making withdrawal, Mitchell. Phyllis. We leave the plan for our vacation tomorrow after work. We come back here at 11.30 at night when that old fool Mike is out drinking. We'll be gone before he returns with a quarter of a million dollars to hide in the Wisconsin woods. It's foolproof, Mitchell. It's the only thing that'll keep me with you. Well? Phyllis, I... I want you. I need you so much, Phyllis. But... I'm afraid. I knew I had him. The void in him was growing bigger. And I alone could tell it. Well, Phyllis, you lucky girl. Now make good use of these next two weeks. Put the roses back in your cheeks. Well, thank you, Mr. Whalen. I didn't know you cared. And you, Mitchell, forget the bank. Yes, sir. You're sure that... Oh, positive, Mitchell. I give you permission to forget the bank. Phyllis, you know what this old work horse of yours asked me earlier today? No, what? He said... He said, Mr. Whalen, if you can spare me, I'll be willing to cancel my vacation. Mitchell's panic was rising as the hour drew close. I'd expected that. I knew that once up in the Wisconsin woods I could calm his fears. Eleven twenty-five at night. We were a block away from the bank. At eleven thirty, we saw the old watchman leave by the back entrance. One minute later, we were parked in the alley beside the bank. And at work, disconnecting the burglar alarm on a big safe. It's... it's all right now, Phyllis. The alarm's off. What time is it? We're all about the time. We've got twenty minutes before he returns. Twenty-twelve. And there it is. Phyllis, it's all yours. Oh! Please, Phyllis, take it. What was that? What time is it, Phyllis? You can tell yourself. It's not twelve yet. I don't understand. He came back. He'll tell me what to do, Phyllis. Quick, quick, Phyllis. Act like we're checking our books. Call him. He doesn't want to mention anything. He didn't remember last night's business when he said goodbye to Mr. Whalen. Come on, Phyllis. Yes, yes. Push that machine. Right behind you. Oh, oh. What's that? A hard-working bag lead, Mike. Well, they keep you busy, don't they? Oh, yes, yes. What do you think of the crest of that guy, Gil? Gil? Ten years have been going there just because I'm out of cash. Hey, weren't you two supposed to be going on your vacation? Vacation? Oh, yeah. Now, that's safe. It's open. Hey, what goes on here? I don't know. Nothing, Mike. Nothing. Put up your hands. No, Mike. I'm taking no chances. Mike, you're acting silly. Handbag, Mrs. Bagley. You've known us for a long time, Mike. Well... We wouldn't do anything wrong. Nothing except... Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Phyllis. Stop that mental... Stop it. Stop it! The Burlac bag will take his body to Wisconsin with it. Mrs. Terrabrew stronger as the night passed. I had to drive. The incident with the night watchman had destroyed what little courage he had. I had to drive. The incident with the night watchman had destroyed what little courage he had. We were about an hour away from the woods when he had his worst attack. What's that? What's... what's the matter with you? You said we couldn't kill him. He said we couldn't kill it. Hassler said we couldn't kill it. Mitchell, would you like to stop for a hamburger? Made of iron, Mike said the spindle didn't reach it. It's still beating back. They're still beating. Mitchell, what's wrong? Nothing. Nothing. Where are you going? I thought I heard some of the tools rattling in the trunk. As long as we stopped, I'll take over. No, no, no. Don't. Don't. He's alive! I've got to hear it! Hassler, he's dead. We're going on. When I got back into the car, Mitchell was unconscious. Ain't him. I let him sleep while I drove north. I had some thinking to do. You can hide money anyplace. Not a body. Somehow I had to find a guide who would take us into the back country. A guide. Who wouldn't be coming back. A dead man in the trunk. And a woman driving into the wilderness in the night. Already thinking of her next victim. Murder has its own laws of progression. Especially when it's... Murder! Death is no end. In the depth of night, Phyllis Bagley drives toward the Wisconsin woods with her grim cargo. As the car crawled over the dirt roads, I kept staring through the windshield, watching for a lighted shack. Here in Indian territory at five in the morning, I had to locate a guide to lead us into the woods. I see a light, Phyllis. Light where? Through the trees up ahead. Turn off the headlights. Like a lantern or a flashlight coming this way. It's an Indian. Hello. Hello. You lost? Yes, we arrived a little later than we expected. Not sure of the way. No good with our guide. Fishing? Yes, but we're different. We'd like a place where nobody else goes. Once I best guide up here, now I, old man, do back. Oh, you don't look old at all. I'll bet you're still the best guide in this territory. You very kind lady. How old do you think I am? Not more than 60, I'd say. I don't tell you, nobody knows. I got secret. Really? How to keep heart young. I tell you what, you so nice lady to me, I be your guide, you like? Well, that would be wonderful, but... We go now. Well, are you all prepared? I'm always ready, lady. Sleep blanket on back. Ears, eyes in head. I prepared. I come in machine. Open the door, Mitchell. Mitchell. Not again? My husband doesn't feel well. That's why we're up here. Maybe I help him. Maybe I tell him secret of strong heart. Thought the Indian took us to his ideal. It was possible to find unless you'd been there. And it had a fast flowing deep stream close by. Deep enough and fast enough to swallow two bodies forever. Mitchell, go help him unload stuff in the car. I'll set the tent up. I'm not going near him. What's wrong with you? We're safe now. No, we're not. Safe except for you. Safe except for that Indian. Where did he come from? Out of the woods in the middle of the night. Eager to lead us back into the woods without even going home. Why? He doesn't talk about his heart like that. Mitchell, you'll stop that kind of drivel or else you'll never speak. It's swift, ruthless murder. What's that? My castles with open or hospital bed keep sending out the same pitiful cry. It's a car radio, of course. Why? You must have left it on. He didn't leave me while into the theory that my castler robbed the bank and disappeared. They claim as proof that the old man was irresponsible and heavily in debt. The bank management has ordered all its employees on vacation to report back to work immediately. Why did you turn the radio on? Me? Please, lady. Why me? Well, you were the only one near the car. Why I should. Why should he indeed? And even if he did, it was an innocent saver. Oh, the police believed my castler robbed the bank and vanished. This is an angle I hadn't even thought of. The bank is calling us all home. Well, in a way I was glad. I don't think I could have tolerated Mitchell alone much longer. I look forward to the night like a caged animal to freedom. Mitchell, what is it? Come out of the tent. It's time. What time is it? It's almost midnight. Please, I... I can't even put... Mitchell, we've gone over this before. This job is yours. You're in this as far as I am. What are you? He's found a secret under that tree. Here's the gun. Mitchell, what a man with seeds. Every step closer to the Indian seemed to weigh him down further. I was determined that as long as we were involved in murder, Mitchell must not remain only possibly guilty. Gun hand, rose slowly, then... I can't! I can't! I didn't mean to. I didn't want to. What you did. Come on. We've got to get them into the stream, both of them. The body's gone. This will help me dig a hole, bury the money, and cover it up again. Then... That is fine, Phyllis. Very. Light a cigarette for me, Mitchell. My hands are dirty. Mike Hasler is alive. Mike Hasler is not dead. No, no, no, no! The police are now convinced beyond any doubt that... Car radio again. I shut it off and dismissed it in my mind. Paul be wiring. We left for home the following morning. Now I was worried about Mitchell. He sat beside me, quiet, rigid. I had no idea what he was listening for until... Phyllis. Yes? Stop the car. What for? If you're only making believe, you'll hear it. You know you do his heart. Mitchell, listen to me. Back there in the woods, I would have killed you without a moment's hesitation. Come on. But I couldn't. You're part of my alibi. Now you're in this as deep as I am. And if you insist on carrying on this way, you'll hate me. No, no, no, you'll hear it too. You just don't want to admit it. You're insane. But you must his heart. Hasler's still beating in the trunk. Hasler is dead and buried. But not his heart. The Indian, he heard it. He knew. Stop it, stop it. You don't hear it. Boom, boom, boom. From the trunk, from Hasler's heart. In the trunk. I'll show you. What are you? The garage up ahead. We're turning in. Phyllis. I'm asking the attendant to open the trunk to check the spare. And you're not getting in. I'm asking the attendant to open the trunk. And you're not getting out of the car. Would you take a look at the spare, too? Yes, ma'am. Sure will. Phyllis, listen. It's louder. He'll find out as soon as he opens the trunk for this piece of shit. Shut up. That Indian, he knew all about it the way he laughed and spoke about his heart. Who turned the radio on? Who? He's found it. He... It can't be. Thank you, no. Here, this is for you. Thanks. Have you looked in your trunk lately, ma'am? No. Why? In a messie. Must rattle when you're going fast. Oh. I'll fix it when we get home. Bye. Bye. There's your heartbeat. You heard him, didn't you? A rattle. Too rattling. Where's your beating heart now? I... I don't hear it. I don't hear a thing. Phyllis, you better pull over. Let them pass. What is it, an ambulance? Police. Let's see your driver's license. Why? What's the trouble? Never mind. Let's see the license. Phyllis Bagley, eh? Yes. How do they carry both of you? Okay, June. Let's take a look in that trunk. Okay. Trunk. Why do you want to look in the trunk? Lucky, that gas station attendant called. Yeah. Mrs. Bagley, what's in that sack? I don't know. We'll soon see. Give me a hand, Joe. What did it look like to you? It's him, all right. Mike Hasley. Don't shoot. I told you. What I'd like to know is why they did it this way. Sticking him full of little holes and blowing his brains out and then drowning him. I don't get it. Maybe dead, but death is no end. For his heart will go on beating endlessly in the brain of the murderer. Endlessly until a gallows trap is sprung. And the murderer's brain too is dead. Having paid in full the price for... Remember to be with us again when death's footsteps echo in the deserted streets. And the clocks strike 12 for... Elsbeth Eric and Louis Van Rootman were heard as Mrs. and Mr. Bagley. With music by Charles Paul, Murder at Midnight was directed by Anton M. Leder.