 Autolight and its 98,000 dealers bring you Mr. Charles Boyer in tonight's presentation of Suspense. Tonight, Autolight presents the true story of a man who alone was responsible for most of the methods of police detection in use today. It's called the Bertillon Method, our star Mr. Charles Boyer. Only a few days left to sign up for the Autolight family charity drawing. This is Harlow Wilcox reminding you that unless you register by this Monday, May 3rd, you'll miss out on the greatest opportunity ever offered for your church, hospital, school, or other favorite charity to share in $100,000. Listen to what this Connecticut woman recently said. My name is Mrs. Leon Barr. I have just signed up for this drawing. I think it a wonderful opportunity for people to help their pet charities. And if my name is selected, I shall designate our Greenwich Hospital. So act fast. Sign up tomorrow at any or all of these Autolight family car dealer showrooms. DeSoto, Hudson, Plymouth, Studebaker, Dodge, Willis, Nash, Packard, Kaiser, or Chrysler. Remember, there's nothing to try or buy, no obligation except printing your name and address. But if you're one of the 25 selected, you will designate your favorite recognized charity to share in $100,000. But remember, there are only a few days left to register. So make sure you sign up tomorrow. And now, Autolight presents transcribed Mr. Charles Boyer in the Bertilion method, hoping once again to keep you in suspense. Paris. At the turn of the century and the fall spring rain. And a place of Paris, de Bois. A place of fountains, winding promenades. Now of this. A drip of rain on leafless trees and the body of a man lying on a thawing earth. A man doubled over. Wrapped in tarpaper. Bound tightly with rope. Murdered man. And kneeling over him. Jura, help me here. Help me untie these ropes. Alphonse Bertilion, Detective of the French Surtait. He spent his life putting science to work for the law. He studied and classified human skulls. He measured every bone in the human body and discovered that the measurements of no two human beings were exactly alike. He called his system anthropometry and applied it to apprehension of criminals. And something more to know about him. That now, whenever violence and murder is done every time Scotland Yard catches a Crippen or the Surtait, a Landry or the FBI, a Dillinger, silent tribute is paid to this man. To Alphonse Bertilion. For reasons such as this. Anything in his pockets, Jura? Only these coins. Nothing else. An event of spring, eh, Monsieur Bertilion? And no identity. And no identity. Now, the tarpaper, the rope will be removed from him. I'll want them in my laboratory, Jura. Oh, of course, of course, Monsieur Bertilion. I'm yours, you, Jura? The tarpaper and the rope in the laboratory, as you wish it, sir. I will gather them up. Wait, sir. Hold your lantern close. Here. These wounds about his head. He was struck from behind. Perhaps as he walked the path there. No. No? Now the lantern, here, Jura, over his hands. The hands of a man who has done no manual labor. And here, Jura, you see this? His sleeves, sir. His sleeve. His right shirt sleeve. Are we disclaimer? New word on the left, perhaps, as he fell his left arm? Not as he fell. There are men of whom this thing of the shirt sleeves is characteristic, Jura. Oh? Yes. Men who deal with the writing, with pens, with ink, wear on their right sleeve a special cuff to protect it from stain, from smudges. Yes, I've seen such cuffs. An office clerk, maybe? Or an accountant, such a man whose hands are soft and marked with toil, as these ones are. And, Jura, yes, sir, where murder is, where death is, there is also something else. Always something else. Identity of the victim of his murderer. Cover him, Jura. Cover him from the rain. Vector Kamaskas. Yes, sir, what do you wish? To give you the report, sir, of the tests I've made in the laboratory. The men of science. Eh, Bertillon? The students, the searchers, the player with test tubes and microscopes. That is the man you are, eh, Bertillon? You wish to hear the report, sir, and the working detective whose only materials are of informers and drunkards and whisperings and small vengences. You still sniff at these men, Bertillon? At their methods? No, no, sir. Respect them, very highly. Therefore, you must respect me, your chief, very highly. What are the reports, Bertillon? Eh, the results of the test tube and the microscopes, sir, and the pattern of the murder of the man we found in the Bois. Excellent, excellent, and eloquently spoken. Well, go on, go on. Eh, that he was struck and murdered in a wine cellar. That he was then dragged into a second room filled with sodas, sand, and coal. And then into a third room. A room always in blackness without windows. I marvel, Bertillon, and I bow. And it is needless for me to ask if you know where all this took place, the address perhaps. I believe it was in a house somewhere along the Seine, which would explain the presence of sand stuck to the tarpaper. And the room always in blackness and without windows. Surely, Clare-voyance, Bertillon. Only a shirt collar under the microscope and two colorless blind parasites. Species of blind beetle that can live only in a pitch black room. And on the coat and vest, bacillia of alcoholic fermentation. Which? Which proved the wine cellar. Exactly, sir, which proved a wine cellar. I marvel. Indeed, I marvel at you, Bertillon. And at another thing also. One thing, how rich we are in knowledge and information and deduction. In a ignorant we are of a simple thing. A victim's identity. Not ignorant at all. For his identity is known. Ah. Yes, sir. By the alchemy of this system of yours of weights and measures and contours and proportions. No, sir. Not this system, then. Another system. Well, we found it in a wallet. In it, his name is a dress. A boy this morning, passing at some distance from the scene, stumbled across it and brought it to his father who brought it to us. Excellent system. The deceased is Charles Delier, 33 Rue Saint-Michel. And we know it is he, since a photograph which was in the wallet, is a likeness of the victim. Also, yes, he was an accountant and matched against our records. A thief who left our presence two years ago. Also. Ex-creditist. This finding of a wallet. With a wife named Lucille. But the name of the murderer, Bertillon. Nowhere. Find him. Yes. I am Alphonse Bertillon. Sur tes. Of Charles. I'm sorry. Do not be. My husband is an unlucky man. Whatever he chooses to do inevitably turns out badly that when he chooses to break the law he is caught, follows. He is dead. Very well. Thank you. Wait. Yes. He was murdered. He is dead. He was murdered. And it will be his bad luck to lie in a potter's field. There is a necessity to find his murderer, Mrs. Delier. Yes. Who murdered him then? And why? I don't know. And this. What? There is not very much I do know about him. Only that he worked. Appeared at a certain hour in the evening, not promptly, was fed. Disappeared or stayed according to what mysterious thing moved him. Now dead. Now dead, sir. And it would please me if you left now. Did he still work at bookkeeping? At Dumier & Company? The actuaries under Gilbert Street. As I said, Mrs. Delier, I am sorry. Be sorry then. And as I said, it would please me if you left. Yes, yes, of course. Head of scratch paper. Which are the three things I allow each of my employees to hold in his desk? So would Mr. Delier's desk. Feel. Go ahead and feel. Nothing else in the desk drawer is there. Inflexible rule. No small objects to hint of motive for murder. No packets of potions or letters of love. Yet I must tell you this. Down the street now, there is a shop. And in this shop of Mr. Cabasseau, there are fabulous dresses which must cost each three times the salary of Charles Delier. Three times his salary, Mr. Cabasseau? Then this Charles Delier must be a rather poor man, Monsieur Bertillon. Then why should he appear frequently in front of your dress shop? And this he did. So his employer told me. Why should he do a thing like this? It's to think about, isn't it? It is really to think about really. Married? What? I say, are you married? Oh yes, yes indeed. Is this your wife? What? I say, is this your... Oh, my wife. Certainly, who else would write such an inscription upon a picture because you are you and I am me, my love, Marcel? Well, sister? True, true indeed. However, this is my wife. I compliment you. I often do too. This dress business you have here. Very successful, isn't it? I am fortunate. And your home in the back must be luxurious. May I compliment you again? Of course. Your clothes. Exquisite. Thank you. Great tease. Less than elegant, I am afraid, for I travel in them to Brussels this evening. Else I would be wearing a touch of brocade and a velvet collar. Nice. Oh, yes. My wife should be here soon. It's a scent she prefers. Yes. Now, another thing. Of course. Is there a cellar here? Cellar? Cellar. Oh, no. Wine cellar? No. Monsieur Cabessu? Yes. I don't have a warrant, but therefore you cannot search. I wouldn't think of it. Of course. No. Yes. Why should you want a warrant for these particular premises for... Come in, my dear. Monsieur Berthillon was just on his way out, hurriedly, so there is not time for an introduction. Carriage! Carriage! The serial date. He is the murderer. What are you talking about? Cabessu. Certainly he. Possibly his wife. The murderer? Or murderers. Because? Because he's an older man married to a younger woman. But without a cellar, dear Berthillon. Older man, yes. And married to a younger woman, yes. But without a cellar. You said it yourself. There is a cellar. What? I'm going back there, sir. I'm going to break into the shop. And there will be a cellar. The very one in which was murdered, tell you. Unless you will issue a warrant, so I may search. Impossible. There are no grounds on which to issue a warrant. Merely that he is married to a younger woman. And a murder victim loitered about. At your own risk, then. No warrant. Yes, sir. And if you are shot for breaking into a shop and a home, we will disavow any knowledge of it. Yes, sir. Men have been shot and killed, you know, for exactly that. Seven last years, I looked it up. Good luck. Yes, sir. Auto light is bringing you Mr. Charles Boyer in the Bertillon Method, tonight's presentation in radio's outstanding theatre of thrills suspense. Listen to this on the spot interview recorded in Bronxville, New York. And what is your name, officer? Petronman James Morris, the Bronxville Police Department. I understand that you signed up for the auto light family charity drawing. That's right. Uh-huh. And should your name be selected, how would you care to designate the money? I was split three ways, cancer fund, heart fund and Bronxville PBA. Very fine. And may I wish you good luck. Thank you very much. Have you signed up yet? Are you giving your favorite recognized charity, either local or national, the unique opportunity to share in $100,000 in cash? There's absolutely no cost to you, no obligation at all. All you do is sign your name and address on a registration form at any auto light family car dealer showroom. And you may be one of the 25 persons selected. Just think of the thrill you would get when you named your favorite charity to share in $100,000. Registration closes this Monday, so get down to any or all of these car dealer showrooms, DeSoto, Hudson, Plymouth, Studebaker, Dodge, Willis, Nash, Packard, Kaiser or Chrysler. Remember, only a few days left. And now auto light brings back to our Hollywood soundstage, Mr. Charles Boyer in Elliott Lewis' presentation of the Bertillon method, a true story well calculated to keep you in suspense. Bertillon's methods were not only of weights and dimensions by tape and scales, but depended to upon measures of the mind. He would say, ask yourself two questions about every premeditated murder. Who profits from this crime? Where is the woman? And prove that 90% of all major crimes have a woman next to them. And said, I distressed a man who always smiles and wouldn't, if the occasion demanded it, disguise himself in the rough clothes of a French workman in order to break into a suspect's home, to break into a suspect's home and get caught. You there, put up your hands. I have a pistol here, and I shall not hesitate to use it. So, put up your hands. Yes, ma'am. Come closer. Yes, ma'am. Gently, for I'm skilled with this weapon. Yes, ma'am. What vileness did you come here to commit? Thief. I am a thief. Yet have I not seen you before? Doubted. Sincerely, having spent so much time in prison. How did you get in here? The cellar. The cellar? Yes, the wine cellar. Liar. Ma'am. The trapdoor to the cellar is still nailed down. Therefore... Therefore, I did not break in through the cellar. Therefore, you are a liar. Yes, ma'am. A liar and a thief. Yes, ma'am. With no shame. I should be in jail. Or worse. Worse. Fortunately, it is that my husband is left for brass. Ah, he has a great temper, you husband. And he perhaps would kill me for this insult of breaking into your house. He has a temper to kill. Who are you? Liar and thief. Who should be given to the police? As you shall. As you shall. Shondam came, complimented Madame Cabassu upon her vigilance, her costume and her bravery, and arrested her thief and prowler. Then took him to a precinct station and led him to a cell. When? And precisely, here the committee ends. My colleagues? For I am Alphonse Bertillon of the Franchurité. Call my chief, Monsieur Camas-Casse. Which, after an hour of discussion and compassion for the fantasies of thieves, to prove a point they did. And Monsieur Camas-Casse, chief of the Surtée, came to the precinct station. Release him. It is he. Alphonse Bertillon. Two days later, Bertillon received word that Monsieur Cabassu had returned from Brussels and was now once again in the bosom of his elegant shop and home. Bertillon went there and, Monsieur Cabassu, since you have chosen to interrupt my wife and myself at dinner, Monsieur Bertillon, I am but pleased to offer you a place at our table. Will you? I'm honored, Monsieur. Thank you. But Jean, this the criminal of whom I've told you, the thief. Well, it's not an adventure we had, Madame. I, in the role of a thief, and you, how well you played your part. Exquisitely. But Jean, I will not stop with the criminal. I assure you, my dear, he is no criminal, and this matter of his illegal entry into my home while I was in Brussels, we shall discuss properly over sherry and partridge, Marcel. Yes, dear. Better place than, Monsieur Bertillon, the server of postmen. Oh, please, sit down, sit down, Monsieur. Oh, thank you. May I? May you what? Make an observation upon the elegance of your dinner table, the crystal, the porcelain, the silver shaping dishes. Make it then. Stunning. It is how we conduct ourselves at all times. The precise accessories for the precise occasions. When one must eat, one must eat with elegance. Monsieur, yes. What are you doing? Your plate, Monsieur. And your silver. He's sketching, Jean. Sketching? Yes. Sketching what? You. Why? You have an interesting face. Oh, exceptionally. Another pose, Monsieur. First a thief, now an artist. Oh, not really an artist. I have an exceptional eye for proportion, that's all. Come look at it, Jean. Not very flattering. It's not my intention to flatter. But your intention is to prove you are a criminal. Oh, Jean? Thélier was a young man, as you are young, madam. And you, Monsieur Cabersu, of me, what? You are a possessor of a cellar. Why are you ashamed of your cellar, Monsieur? Why did you lie about it? What did you say you did not have? Get out! Of course. Good night. At first, no cellar. And all at once, Inspector, a cellar. True. Now, why should a man lie about a cellar? Well. Give me one reason why a man, any man, should lie about a cellar. Would you lie about your cellar if someone should say to you, Inspector Kamaskas, is there a cellar in your home? Would you say no? Not unless. Not unless you have committed a murder in your cellar. True. Therefore, I ask that you issue a writ of arrest. Listen to me. I am sure he's a murderer. Listen to me. Very well. Mr. Cabersu is an important man. And why not? Since he has committed an important murder. And if I issue a writ of arrest, then he has taken into custody. And you cannot prove your accusation, do you realize it? I can prove them. In this envelope here, a sketch of Mr. Cabersu. And the proportions I have indicated here, in centimeters, length of jaw to full length of face, eye socket to side of forehead, et cetera, et cetera. Yes, yes. Now, I present you with this other data. Please. Compare them. Yeah. Issue the writ, Inspector. Yes. What's the meaning of this? Police. Where is Mr. Cabersu? He is asleep. Where is he? Quickly, quickly, where is he asleep? His suite is the closest to the head of the stairs. Wait. Get up. You're under arrest. What is the meaning of this? Out of bed. Out of bed quickly. But why? You are under arrest. Here is the writ. Murder. Here. Put on your trousers. It is an outrage. You will see. Murder is always an outrage. This is infamous. I will make you pay. Because you are a man of importance. A man of influence. Yes. Because you are Jean Cabersu. Yes. Surveyor of elegance to the wealthy. Yes. And no longer Jean Plagne. I said, and no longer Jean Plagne, Monsieur. Well, Abash, thief, cutthroat. How did you know? Friend to a murdered man. Impossible, the truth. Not impossible. You must have in memory for the time some years ago when you were measured at this small police station for the proportion of the length of jaw to the length of face of eye socket to the side of forehead, et cetera, et cetera, that you have changed the color of your hair, that you have nimbus stashed, that you have gained weight, nothing. No disguise. For to disguise the length of in here, our bone stretcher, impossible. Listen very well. I am Jean Plagne, but now I am respectable and honorable man. Exactly why you had to commit murder. To maintain this attitude. Then you know about Charles Tellier. Of course. He was arrested with you. Also a thief. Now come back to haunt you with your old sin. Blackmail, Monsieur. Yes. An apology. First I thought this a crime of passion. Jealousy. That your wife, lovely woman, she had nothing to do with it. Lovely woman. Monsieur Cabessu, I arrest you in the name of the Republic of France for the murder of Charles Tellier. A man who said, one who tries to hide his past is a liar and a fool. For somehow it races to catch up with him and in devious ways overtakes him, destroys him. Always. Who set a path for modern day science of criminology. Who left behind countless weapons of detection. Who was one of the greatest forces for law the world has ever known. Suspense. Presented by auto light. Tonight's star, Mr. Charles Boyer. This is it. The last announcement. The giant auto light family charity drawing closes this Monday, May 3rd. So if you haven't registered in this $100,000 event, you'd better hurry. Your favorite charity may miss the opportunity to collect thousands of dollars just because you neglected to sign up. So follow the example of this woman who was interviewed recently in Bronxville, New York. Hello there. I'm Bob Emmerich and what is your name? I'm Mrs. E. W. Lewis. I understand that you just signed up for the auto light family charity drawing. Is that right? Now, should you be selected, what charity would you choose? Well, since I have a son studying medicine, I think I designate Bellevue Medical Center. I think that's wonderful. May I wish you the best of luck. Thank you. So friends, visit any or all of these auto light family car dealer showrooms and register while there's still time. DeSoto, Hudson, Plymouth, Studebaker, Dodge, Willis, Nash, Packard, Kaiser or Chrysler. Remember, there are only a few days left to give your favorite church, school or other recognized local or national charity the cash opportunity of a lifetime. So sign up tomorrow sure. Next week, the story of a man who wanted to save his life, but he had to get into a fight to do it. And the fight was with the giant of Thermopylae, our star, Mr. Frank Lovejoy. That's next week on Suspense. Suspense is transcribed and directed by Elliot Lewis with music composed by Lucian Marwick and conducted by Ludblustkin. The Bertilion method was written for suspense by Morton Fine and David Friedkin. Featured in tonight's cast were Herb Butterfield, John Daener, Vic Perrin, Jane Webb and Edgar Barrier. And remember next week, Mr. Frank Lovejoy in The Giant of Thermopylae. This is the CBS Radio Network.