 Box 13, with the star of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday. Box 13, care of star times. I have something that may intrigue your sense of adventure. I myself cannot follow it up because I am blind. However, if you will come to the braille room at the public library tomorrow at 11 in the morning, you may be able to find something of interest. You may be able to find something of interest. I think someone is in desperate danger needs help. I'd like to know what you think. William Michaels. Well, the letter did intrigue me. And as I found out later, Mr. Michaels did have something. And now back to Box 13 and Dan Holliday's newest adventure, House of Darkness. I wonder how this Mr. Michaels knew about Box 13, Mr. Holliday? I wonder about that too, Susie. He says he's blind. This is really one letter I'd follow up if I were you. You would why? Well, wouldn't you? Wouldn't I if I were you? No, I mean, you know what I mean, don't you? Not now, I had an inkling before, but that's all gone. Never mind though, what time is it? Quarter till 11. Well, it gives me 15 minutes to get to the public library and also get a ticket for speeding if I want to get there on time. But maybe it'll be worth it. Well, I didn't get the ticket and exactly 15 minutes later, I walked into the braille room at the library. There were only two people in the room, a man and a woman. The woman was busily running her sensitive fingers over a book. But the man was facing the door with a tense, expectant expression on his face. I walked over to him and sat down. He turned his face toward me and then... Box 13? That's right. Your William Michaels? Yes, yes, that's right. I don't know whether you'd come or not, as a matter of fact, I have wish you hadn't. Your letter mentioned adventure. I never turned that down. What have you got, Mr. Michaels? This. This book? Yes, it's in braille, as you can see. Yes, I know that, but what about it? Let me read you a passage from page 80. Listen closely. Go ahead. The terror of the night is hidden in the dark corners of my mind. And the shapes and fathoms that live in fancy are become real. Is that all? Yes, that's all on the page. All that was originally on the page. But listen to this. Help me. One, two, one, seven, Granger Avenue. Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that's on the page? Yes. Someone who knows how to read and write braille has used a pin or a needle to put this message on the bottom. Let me see that page. The characters are faint, but someone has done what you said. What do you make of it? I don't know. Before we go any further, how did you come to write to box 13? Well, I have a friend who reads the newspaper to me. He saw your ad in the Star Times. Adventure wanted will go any place, do anything, write box 13. And being a romantic sort of fellow, well, he read it to me. Oh, I see. We sat and conjectured a lot of things, what you might get into through that ad. Oh, I managed to get into quite a lot of trouble, Mr. Michaels. But let's go back to this braille message. Help me. One, two, one, seven, Granger Avenue. When did you discover it? Well, yesterday morning, quite by accident, I almost ran my fingers past it. I thought the characters were imperfections in the paper, you see. That was at first. Run your fingers over it again, will you? Yes. I did. Why? They're still sharp enough for you to read the characters. Yes, that's true. Therefore, they haven't had time to be pressed down. Make them eligible, so to speak. And what does that mean? That they were made quite recently. Yes. Yes, of course. That's clever. No, it's just common sense. Do you think I should have taken this to the police? I don't know. It may be a joke, a prank. Yes, I thought of that. Let's find out, shall we? Are you going to that address? Oh, no, not yet. Not until I find out the name of the person who had this book out of the library. How can you learn that? You see, every library book has a checkout card in the pocket on the inside of the front cover. Now, the checkout card has the number of the borrower's card on it. And the borrower's card has the name and address of the person. Let's go to the main desk, return this book and see what the checkout card says. And that we did. We waited until the book was returned to the braille room. Then we looked at it again. Well, does it tell you anything? The checkout card, I mean. Let me see your library card. Oh, yes. Here. Your card number is 9E4839. Now, that's the last card number written on this checkout slip. Then the one before mine must be the card number of the person who had the book out before me. Maybe. For the borrower's names ahead of yours, one of them has to belong to the person who put that message in the book. Copy them down and maybe we can find out whose card it is. Come on. Where to? The main desk again. Do you think it's some sort of joke? If it is, it's in bad taste. But coming at the end of that dismal paragraph, you read me. Do you think that means anything? Your guess is as good as mine. Here we are. Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss. Yes, sir. May I help you? I think you can. Here's a list of four card numbers. I'd like to know to whom the cards belong. Oh, I don't think I can give you that information, sir. Against regulations? Well, yes. Well, my name is Dan Holliday. I think you have several of my books here in the library. Oh, of course. I've seen your picture on the jackets. Oh, no, don't hold that against me, please. Oh, I won't. But you wanted some names? Yes, you see, I'm doing a little research, and, well, it's for a story. Well, I guess in your case, it'll be all right. May I have the numbers? Oh, yes, here you are. I'll be back in a moment. I didn't know you were a writer. In fact, I didn't even know your name. That's right. Now you know. Dan Holliday. Then this should be just your meet, Mr. Holliday. It all depends. If one of the card numbers checks with the address of the message, then maybe we've got something. I almost hope it does. And then again, I... Here she comes, Holliday. Here you are, Mr. Holliday. I hope you won't mention this because it is against regulations. I've already forgotten it. Are you writing a story about this? I don't know yet, but thank you very much. Not at all, Mr. Holliday. Well, what are the names? There are four of them, Mr. Michaels. And the last one on the list is Mrs. Martha Corbett. One, two, one, seven, Granger Avenue. Half hour later, Michaels and I sat in my car a few houses down from one, two, one, seven, Granger Avenue. Maybe the whole thing was a joke. Then again, maybe it wasn't. Michaels sat silently for a couple of minutes, and then... Do you... do you see anyone, Mr. Holliday? No, not a soul. What kind of place is it? Big, dark. Not at all the type of house associated with sweetness and light. But then maybe I'm making mysteries out of nothing. You're not going in? With what? Could I ask to see Mrs. Martha Corbett? Why not if she needs help? We don't know that, Michaels, and we... Why did you stop talking? Isn't that a car? Yes, yes it is. Stopped in front of the house. Who is it? I don't know. But it's a doctor's car and he's getting out. Doctor? Uh-huh. Which means nothing at all. Doctor's illegal. What's he doing? He's gone into the house. Michaels, I've got an idea. What is it? I'm going to make a phone call and find out something. A phone call? To whom? To the automobile club and find out who belongs to their license number on the doctor's car. Then later I'll visit the doctor. Well, I found out who the doctor was. I dropped Michaels at the library and told him I'd be meeting there later. It took me ten minutes to convince the doctor's receptionist that I had to see him. Then in his office... My nurse tells me you insisted upon seeing me, Mr... The name is Holiday, Dan Holiday. Oh, very well, Mr. Holiday. What seems to be the trouble? I have a headache. A headache? Good heavens, man. My nurse seemed to think it was some fatal disease. Well, it's a bad headache. Who sent you to me, Mr. Holiday? One of your patients, Dr. Fulsey. Oh, really? May I ask which one? Oh, yes, of course. I'll give you a couple of tablets to relieve you. But the cause of the headache is something we'll have to look into. Here you are. Thank you. A glass of water? The patient who sent me was... Mrs. Martha Corbett. Oh, oh, I'm sorry. I must have knocked the glass out of your hand. Although I didn't touch it. Did I? I'm sorry. It was clumsy of me. No harm done. So Mrs. Corbett sent you to me, huh? Yes, she recommended you very highly. Is that so? When did you last see her? Well, not recently. Just what are you trying to pull, Mr. Holiday? Pull? I don't understand. Evidently not. Because I don't think you even know Mrs. Corbett. No, what makes you think that? She hasn't seen anyone for six months, not a soul. Except you. I'm her physician. So you are. Dr. Fulsey, what's wrong with Mrs. Corbett? Until you tell me what you're trying to do, I refuse to answer your questions. Pause. I told you she asked for help. You're lying. Maybe you are, too. I... Mr. Holiday, I... I want to show you something. I have no idea what business this is of yours, but since you seem to think it is, I don't mind showing you these. Here, look at these papers. These... These are commitment papers for Mrs. Martha Corbett. Exactly. Seven years ago, she was confined to a sanatorium. I see. And now... And now this. Who's the phone call to? The police, Mr. Holiday. You want to stay around for it? Put it down, doctor. You win. Now, I'll give you just one minute to get out of my office. If you're not gone in that time, I'll complete that call. All right, doctor. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I won't do it again. That's right. You won't. And you left his office, Mr. Holiday? What else could I do? I poked in there on a flimsy excuse. You threatened to call the police? Mr. Holiday, please believe me. I'm blind myself, and I... What do you mean, Michaels? I know what she thinks, how she thinks. I don't know what you're driving at. A person who is blind develops almost a psychic sense. Call it an extra sense if you want, but he does have it. I'm sure that Mrs. Corbett needs help. Now, look, all we have is that message in the library book. I told you, Dr. Falsy showed me our commitment papers. But he didn't put through the call to the police. He... I see what you mean. A bluff. Yes, it could have been. I wonder if a person with nothing to conceal, with nothing to be afraid of, would have gone through with that call. Well, put yourself in his place. Would you? I think I would have. Maybe you're right, Michaels. Then what are you going to do? Well, I've gone this far. I may as well go all the way. Yes? Where? All the way into that house on Granger Avenue. And now back to House of Darkness, another Box 13 adventure with Alan Ladd, as Dan Holiday. Well, maybe it was a wild goose chase with no chance of bagging any game at the end. But it was worth the try. If Dr. Falsy was bluffing, then he put on a good act. If he wasn't, I had to play it straight anyway. So, later that same afternoon, I walked up the stairs to the front door of 1217 Granger Avenue. I rang the bell and waited. Yes? Oh, how do you do? My name is Holiday. Yes, what do you want? I'm Dan. I'm the Inspector from the Power Company. I have to look over the wiring and fixtures in your house. No. If it's convenient, yes. Well, it really isn't at the moment. It'll only take a few minutes. I know it's a nuisance, but it has to be done. How long will it be? How many rooms have you got? Only six that we use. Oh. Then it'll be about a half hour. Well, all right, come in. If you have something to do, I can make the rounds myself. I'll go with you. I'll show you the rooms we use. All right. Please lead the way. The library is here. Hmm. One ceiling fixture. Two wall fixtures. Any lamp outlets on the baseboards? Two. Right here. Well, they look OK. Ceiling fixture seems all right. Ever have any trouble with shorts blown fuses? No, none at all. Everything in the house is in perfect working order. Oh, that's good. Makes my job easier. All right, Mr. The name is Whitley. And didn't you know that? I cover about a dozen houses a day. Names don't mean a thing to me. Only fixtures. Oh. Well, come this way. The dining room is just off the library. Next to that is the kitchen. Then one of the bedrooms. And the beds are off to the right of the bedroom. There are several small panties. We went through one room after another. Then we went upstairs and Whitley led the way along the hallway that started the head of the stairs and ran to a window at the far end. There were only two rooms off the hallway. We stopped at the first one. This room is merely a storage room. Would you care to see it? Oh, yes, I would. That is if you don't mind. Not at all. Oh, just an empty room. Just an empty room. As you can see, the ceiling fixture has only one bulb in it. Well, seems to work all right. And that's all. What about that room down there? We never use it. What's in it? Nothing at all. Beyond a few odds and ends of old furniture. Mind if I look at it? It's locked. Don't you have a key for it? No, the key was lost. I'm having another one made. Perhaps if you come again... It's an inside room, isn't it? No end as I mean. Does that make any difference? I assure you the room is never used. The lighting fixtures were sealed up some years ago. Oh, I see. No, if that's all. And if you don't mind, I have some other things to do. And... What's that? This is an old house. The water pipes are defective. This away, Mr. Holliday. Oh, certainly. Oh, have you a phone? Why, yes, downstairs. I'd like to use it if you don't mind. All right. If you'll follow me. He led the way back downstairs. I knew I had to stay in that house if I was to find out what or who was in that locked room. I had an idea and I hoped it worked. But if it didn't... Well, I'd never get another chance to get back into the house. Then, downstairs... There's the phone. Help yourself. Well, thank you. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you, Mr. Whitley. But these things have to be done, you know. Of course. Hello, Michaels. This is Holliday. I've just made my inspection of one, two, one, seven Granger Avenue. Everything looks okay. I call to find out if there's anything else to do in this neighborhood. What? Uh-huh. Oh? Oh, hang on. I'll find out. Mr. Whitley. Yes? I wonder if you would mind looking out of the front window and see if any linemen are working the street. I... All right. I'll be back in a moment. Michaels, listen closely. Wait ten minutes after I hang up and call this number. Grammar C-8342. A man named Whitley will answer. Say you're a Dr. Falsi, and you've got to see him immediately. Give him a phony address. Say you're calling from a phone booth. That's so Whitley doesn't have to check the car back. Sound excited? Nervous. Then hang up with no explanations. Have you got it? Yes. Yes, I've got it. Good. Sure, Michaels. I'll go right over there right now. Oh, just a second. There are no linemen working outside at all. Oh, well, thank you. They haven't got here yet, Michaels. Yeah. See you later so long. No, if you're quite finished. Yes, I'm quite finished. Thank you. Whitley saw me to the door. I went to my car and pretended to drive away. But I parked around the corner then walked back toward the house. I hid in a doorway until I saw Whitley leave the house. It was in a hurry, so I knew Michaels' fake call had reached him. It was evening and almost dark. I circled the house and tried all the windows until I found one leading into the basement that I could force. Brother, I was breaking the law, but I had to. I went upstairs to the room Whitley had and let me see. I knocked. Mrs. Corbett. Mrs. Corbett, I've come to help you. I found your message in the library book. You? I thought the door was locked. I'm closer. I'm right here. Who are you? I don't mind that now. What's going on here? Please get me out of here. You must. The door wasn't locked. You could have gotten out. I'm blind. I'm afraid. I tried to get out before, but someone's always there. Well, there's no one in the house now. Whitley's gone. Gone? For good? No, he'll come back. Who is he? Why are you kept in here? He's my nephew. They want me to sign the willies drawn up and then they'll kill me. No, no. They won't. Day after day, I put messages and books they brought me from the library. First, I wrote them, but they found them. Then I put the message in braille. I know all that. You said something about a will. Yes. If I sign it, they'll kill me. I can't stand it much longer. I'll have to sign it and then they'll kill me. As soon as I sign it, they'll kill me. Mrs. Corbett, I saw Dr. Fulsey. I saw commitment papers he had. That's not true. He forged them. Forged them for my nephew. Don't you see, if I ever got out, they'd have those papers to prove that I... Yes. Yes, I see. How long have you been here? A year. Please, you've got to get me out. Look, Mrs. Corbett, I broke the law by getting in here. If it happens, you're not telling the truth. I'm in a bad spot. They could prosecute me. You've got to believe me. Please. Maybe I do. All right, I'll take the chance. Listen, someone came in downstairs. Something must have gone wrong. You can't get out of here. There aren't any windows. Listen, now you've got to help me. I'll get in the closet. Don't give any sign that you know I'm here. Hurry, hurry. They mustn't find you. That's up to you. I got into the closet and waited. Then I heard. Well, Aunt Martha, I was a little worried about you. Whitley, we've got to get her out of here. Don't worry, Fulsey. We will. You had to fall for that fake inspector. Shut up. Aunt Martha, we'll give you one more chance. Sign the will now and nothing will happen to you. No, I won't sign it now. What does she mean now? I don't know. Aunt Martha, what did you mean? Nothing. She did, Whitley. That fake call from you. Aunt Martha, is someone here? No, there's no one. Please let me alone. Fulsey, go to the closet. Open the door. Don't worry. If someone's in there, we can take care of them. Go on. Whitley, it's him. The man who came to see me. Well, well, the inspector himself. Come on out. All right. What do you think you'll do with that gun? What do you think? Fulsey. What? Call your office. Arrange for an ambulance to come here. What are you going to do? What we have to do. Look, no killings, please. Shut up. May I ask how you found out about the fake call from our Dr. Fulsey? I called his office when he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Well, Fulsey, go on. Please, Whitley, no killings. You're in this up to your neck. You'll do as I say. Oh, sure, do what he says, Dr. Fulsey. Throw away a lifetime of helping others. Isn't that what a doctor does? You shut up. All right, I will. Whitley, there's some other way. I don't think so. No, there's no other way, Dr. Fulsey. Just do what he says. Forget that you once took a note, a note that all doctors take. It's easy to forget, isn't it? You'll stop talking now, Holiday. Or I'll see that you do. One way or the other, I'll get it. So why shouldn't I talk now? Go ahead, Doctor. Call the ambulance. Take Mrs. Corbett and me out of here. Go ahead. Fulsey, go on. We left the house. Whitley had a gun in my bag. Mrs. Corbett had been drugged and was put on a stretcher. The ambulance waved in front. I looked around. The street was almost deserted except for one man walking slowly toward the house. Then I heard it. The tapping of a cane. A lone man coming closer. It was Michael's. He stopped. Holiday, get in the ambulance. Go on. Whitley, for the last time, don't try this. Whitley, we've got the hurry. Go on, Holiday. What are you staring at? That man? No. He's blind, isn't he? Holiday, that man, you know him? No, I don't. I think you do. And you make one sound, one move to let him know what's going on. He goes with us, too. I said I don't know him. Remember what I said. One move and he goes along. If you want that to happen to us, you please. Well, that's better. Remember what I said. Let him get past. I'm sorry. I stumbled. It's all right. Hurt? No, no, no. I caught myself against the side of this car. All right. It frightened me. I seem to have dropped my cane. Here you are. Thank you. Thank you so much. Well, that's being a good boy, Holiday. You would have killed him, too, wouldn't you? Yes. You saved his life, Holiday. Now get in. And we'll all take a little ride. Well, it looked hopeless. This was going to be a great ride. Our only hope was Michael's, but how could he help? He was blind. But he must have read my mind because he laughed. You were very smart, Holiday, but you seem to have outsmarted yourself. Yeah, it looks that way, doesn't it? But do you really think you're going to get away with this? Why not? Your only hope is a blind man. Whitley, what's that? Fawzi, what's that? Police cars. All right. Don't get excited. They can't be after us. Whitley, they are after us. Don't lose your head. Looks like something slipped up, doesn't it, Whitley? You're whistling in the dark. Look, their signaling is to stop. Go on. Get going. Outrun them. It's no use. We can't do it. There's a traffic signal ahead. Oh, have them go through. No, they'll shoot. Holiday, this is your fault. Oh, no, you don't. I'll kill you. Looks like this is your last ride, Whitley. Fawzi, tell the driver to stop this ambulance. Yes, Mr. Holiday. I don't know how Michaels did it, Whitley, but I'm very glad he did. Keepers, how'd you ever do it, Mr. Michaels? With these. Justice hands and his fingers, Susie. I don't get it. Sure, Michael. All right. Now, look, Susie, here's a coin with a date on it. Yeah? The date is 1935. Oh, you felt those numbers with your fingers? That's right, Susie. And it was simple for him to run his fingers over the license plates of the ambulance. When I stumbled, I dropped my cane. I ran my hands over the car. I knew it wasn't a regular automobile. And I felt the license plates. Gee, and then you went to police. That's right. And that, Susie, is what you call using your head and fingers. Good night. Listen in again next week when, through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd stars as Dan Holiday in Box 13. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sandbell. And this week's original story was written by Sam Walters. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager and the part of Susie is played by Sylvia Picker. Byrne Carstensen is in charge of production. Box 13 is a Mayfair production from Hollywood. Watch for Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount Picture.