 Suspense! Presented by Roma Wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Sado, your health, senor. Roma Toast the World. The wine for your table is Roma, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is the man in black here for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California to introduce this weekly half hour of suspense. Tonight in Hollywood, Roma brings you the MGM star, Mr. Charles Lawton. The suspense play which stars Charles Lawton, which is produced and directed by William Spear, is called Wet Saturday. This remarkable and sardonic story is rather difficult to describe. Well, it most certainly isn't a who-done-it. Is it, Mr. Lawton? No, no, it definitely isn't. The question involved is not at all a matter of who-done-it. It's a matter of whether or not the who-who-done-it is going to get it in the neck. And if not, then who is, regardless of who actually done it. It's very complicated. Very well put, sir. And before the curtain rises on suspense, will you eavesdrop with me a moment? Dinner is over. A delightful dinner in one of the great homes of a land far to the south. And one of the guests is complimenting his host. Harrahul, your reputation as a host grows with each of your magnificent dinners. That superb wine tonight, where did you find such perfection? I will tell you a great secret. When I visited our good neighbor, Nellie, the United States, I tasted the wines of their California and knew instantly it was a great wine country. And I learned that some of their very choices, mignettes, produced the wine we enjoyed tonight. Roma wine. Our good neighbor to the south is Wright. Our own sunny California provides perfect conditions of climate and soil to produce some of the world's finest wines. And note this. What your wine connoisseur of another land prized as an expensive import, with import duties and high shipping costs included in his purchase price, comes to you from the great Roma wineries in California as an inexpensive American product. Roma's wide varieties of types and Roma's modest costs means that you can enjoy these fine wines often when entertaining guests as a pre-meal appetizer to serve with meals or for after-dinner enjoyment. You will be amazed at how little your dealer will ask for an assortment of several types of these fine Roma wines. Visit your dealer tomorrow and ask him for Roma, R-O-M-A, America's largest selling wine. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. And now with wet Saturday and with the performance of Charles Lawton, we again hope to keep you in suspense. On this rainy afternoon, we should like you to meet the Princey family and their visitor. They are, of course, at home. Mrs. Princey, daughter Millicent, George, the son and heir, sprawled on a couch, and finally Mr. Princey, biting on a dry pipe. Their living room is dull and overstuffed, rain beats at the windows. They are any middle-class family at home on a wet day, except for one small item. As you sit with them in the living room, you can see through the door to the sun porch a pair of men's feet encased in high black shoes. They look like the feet of a curate. There is a tenseness in the room. The air is charged with excitement. But the feet are very still. Don't keep staring at them. Listen to me, all of you. Don't you see? They'd hang out. That's what they do. They'd hang out. Oh, Fred, it's too awful. Awful? It's catastrophic. A supposedly sweet, gentle, intelligent girl, respected and loved by the whole village doing a thing like this. Think of the publicity and the disgrace. Do you think I'm going to resign from the bench, the vestry, and sell out and live in some foggy hotel abroad? Oh, no. No. I'll kill myself. I will, I will. Dub your fool. Any more than you have been, the Governor, me. Will you be quiet? Wouldn't it be a benefit for you, George? Everybody in the village knows you're not responsible. Get off that couch and sit up in your spine. You might be of a little use here if you could think. What would I say, Governor? This isn't my funeral. Shut up. As long as I can remember, George, you've been a trial and tribulation to me. Oh, I can't stand it. I can't stand it. You've got to stand it, my dear, and keep that hysterical note out of your voice, dear. Yes. Yes. We are, we're talking about the weather. Now, George. Yeah? George, if he fell down the old well, say, striking his head several times, what about that? I really don't know, Governor. What about it? Don't be an ass, George. I'm asking you to think. He'd have had to hit the side several times in 30 or 40 feet. Is it all the correct angles? No. No, I'm afraid not. I'm afraid that won't do it. Oh, we'll have to go over it all again, Millicent. Oh, no, Father. No, I couldn't. I couldn't. Millicent, we must go over it all again. Dad, you're torturing her. Oh, face facts, mate. We're them lying there. No use pretending it's a picnic. They might hang you, Millicent. Oh, do stop that shaking. Stop it, Millicent. Stop it. You must stop it. You must keep your voice quiet, Millicent. We are talking about the weather. Now we will proceed. I can't. I can't not with those feet there. You should have thought of that, Millie. I'm not moving her. Shut up, George. And stop shuffling your feet. Now, Millicent, look at me and answer me truthfully. Do you hear? Answer me. You were in the croaky court? Yes. Who knew you were in love with this wretched currant? The whole village knows. They've been snigering about it in the pub for the three years past. Shut up, George. Millicent, we continue. You were on the croaky court? Yes. You were putting the croaky set into its box? Yes. It was starting to rain. I was carrying the balls and mallets into the sun porch. The box was there. You heard someone enter the garden gate and come across the yard? Yes. Could you see who it was? Not at first. I was going into the sun porch. I threw down all the mallets but the red one and turned round. And it was withers? Yes. So you called him? Yes. Loudly? Did you call him loudly? Could anyone have heard? No, Father. I'm sure not. I didn't really call him. I just spoke his name. He saw me as I went to the dawn. He just waved his hand and came over. Now, can I find out from you whether there was anyone about, whether he could have been seen? I'm sure not, Father. I'm quite sure. So you both went into the sun porch? Yes. It was raining hard there. What did he say? He said, hello, Millie. An excuse is coming in the back way. But he set out to walk over to Liston. Yes. And he said, passing the park you'd seen the house and suddenly thought of me. He thought he'd just look in for a minute. He had something to tell me. Yes, go on. He said he was so happy he wanted me to share it. He'd heard from the bishop he was to have vicarage. And it wasn't only that. It meant he could marry. And he began to stutter and get all confused. And because I thought it meant me. Don't tell me what you thought. Tell me exactly what he said, nothing else. Yes. Well, well... Crying. It's a luxury you can no longer afford. Tell me what happened. He said no. He said it wasn't me. It's Ella Braggden Davis. And he was sorry and all that. Then he went to go. And then? I got mad. He turned his back. I had the red mallet of the croak he said in my hand. I'd forgot to drop it in the box when I came and I was just... Did you shout or scream? I mean, as you hit him. No, I'm sure I didn't. Did he? Come on, speak up. You've got a tongue in your head. No, father. And then? I threw it down. I came straight in here. I went to look for mother and that's all. My poor baby. And you're sure no one else was about? No, no one. He's a child alone, Fred. You're not such a child, mate. Oh, really? I had no idea. George, will you keep quiet? I'm thinking. You see, George, he probably told people who was going to listen. And certainly no one knows he came here for he didn't decide until he crossed the park. He might have been attacked in the woods. We must consider every detail. A curate with his head battered in. Oh, don't, father, don't. Now, shut up. A curate with his head battered in. A curate with his head battered in. Well, who would want to kill with us? Who would want to kill with us? Well, I would, with pleasure. How do you do, Mrs. Princes? Well, well, well, well. Well, sit down. Sit down. Pray you mustn't get up for me, Mrs. Princes. You are the militant, my worker. I'm just being neighborly on a bad day. I wanted to ask you about those darlier bulbs, Princes. I took a shortcut on account of the rain and walked right in. I knew you wouldn't mind. He heard you, father. Oh, my dear. We can all have our little jokes, can't we? Don't you pretend to be shocked. This way, Smollett. This chair facing the fireplace, old man. Sit down, mother. Just straighten the curtain to the fun porch here. It looks so gloomy out there. Might as well shut the rain out. Well... We were, uh, just talking about a little theoretical cure at killing Smollett. Young people these days like killers. Parsonicide? Justifiable parsonicide. You heard about Ella Bragdon Davis? I should be a proper laughing stock. Why should you be a proper laughing stock, Smollett? Oh, I had a shot in that direction myself. She half said yes, too. Didn't you heard? She told most people. Now I'll look as if I were jilted. Too bad. Oh, fortunate of war. Yes, fortunate of war. Yes, odd how that happens, isn't it? Yeah. Uh, sit down, Smollett, old man. Uh, mother, Millicent, uh, would you console Captain Smollett with your best light conversation? Uh, George and I have something to look at outside. The rain, you know. Very bad, very bad. Come along, George. Right, oh, Governor. Perhaps we'll need rain coats. Can't think so, George. Uh, just make yourself at home, Smollett. Make yourself at home, old boy. Uh, thank you, thank you. Nasty day to be going out. Oh, it's something about the old well, uh, just off the Sun porch door, you know. This terrible, sudden weather seems to have loosened some of the stones. Too bad, too dash bad. Spoils the tennis and the croquet. I mean, a day like this, uh, doesn't it, Millie? Yes, it does. She was practicing out on the croquet court earlier. She had to dople your chair nearer the fire, Captain. It was so damp, we thought it would be cozy to light it. Uh, thank you. I'm quite comfortable. I-I hope you don't feel too bad about Ella Bragdon, David. Oh, can't always win, you know. Can't understand the what you women see in these bloodless clerics. Oh, I always thought Mr. Withers was, uh, is a very charming man. I quite agree, but why should anyone want to marry him? You wouldn't want to marry him, would you, Millie? No. That is, I... I used to. Oh, no, of course not. Well, yes, Prince. Good Lord, man. You will come on a fella suddenly. Yes, of course I did. You don't mind this old double barrel shotgun, do you, Smollett? I've been working on it, sir. May I have your attention for a minute? There's something on the sand porch I'd like to show you. Well, yes, yes, of course. Smollett, George and I went out to see if we could shoot some rat which had been driven out of the old well by the high water. We were afraid they might get into the house. But you must listen to me very carefully, very carefully, or you'll be shot by accident. Prince, what's the matter with you? You heard me ask, as you came in, who would kill Withers? You also heard Millicent make a comment. An unguarded comment. Well, what of it? Very little, unless you were to hear that Withers had met with a violent end this afternoon. Well, dear Smollett, it is what you are going to hear. What? Withers did? Yes. Who killed him? Millicent. Good Lord. Oh, shut up, sniveling Millie. Yes, it's a mess. And of course, you would have remembered and guessed. Maybe, yes, I suppose I should. Therefore, you constitute a problem. We kill him. It's one of those disgusting things. Pityable too, I think. She deluded herself that he was in love with her. Good heavens. Millie, yes, of course I see. He told her about the Davis girl, Ella Bregdon Davis. I understand. I have no wish, as you will comprehend, that she should be proved either a lunatic or a murderous. I could hardly go on living here after that, could I? Besides, I'm rather fond of Millie. Quite. On the other hand, you know about it. Yes, I see that makes me a problem. You were wondering if I could keep my mouth shut, if I promise. I'm wondering if I could believe you. But if I promised. If things went smoothly, yes. But not if there was any sort of suspicion or any questioning. You would be afraid of being an accessory. I don't know. I do. What are we going to do? I can't see anything else. Never be full enough to do me in. You can't get rid of two corpses. Well, I regard it as a better risk than the other. It could be an accident. Or you and Withers could both disappear. There are possibilities in that. Listen, you can't... I can. But there may be a way out. There is, Smollett. You gave it to me yourself. I did? What? Well, you said you would kill Withers. You have a motive. Smollett, I can't trust you. You must trust me. Or else I would kill you now in the next minute. I mean that. You can choose between living and dying. Go on. There's the old well just outside the sun porch door. That's what I'm going to put with us. No one outside knows he's come up here this afternoon. No one will ever look there for him unless you tell them now. You must give me evidence that you have murdered Withers. I murdered him? Why do you want that? So that I shall be dead sure that you'll never open your lips on the subject. I see. What evidence? George, hit him in the face. Sure. You keep out of this. Captain, you should be more careful. Look what your teeth did to my knuckle. Do it again, George. Barnett, how can you? You keep quiet, Millie. Stop snivelling. I'm sorry, Smollett. But there must be traces of a struggle between you and Withers. Then it will be not altogether safe for you to go to the police. Now, George, would you get the croaky mallet? And George, take your handkerchief to it. You'll find it there on the sun porch floor. Yes, sir. There, Captain. There's the weapon. I told you, Smollett, there it was. Now, if you please, just grasp the end that mashed Withers' head. I shall shoot you if you don't. Good Lord, you can't. All right. That's it, oh boy. That's right. Now, deposit it by the side of the house. Out of the rain, of course. Now, wait, George. First, you'd better pull a few hairs out of his head and put them under the nail of Withers' right hand. I'm sorry to mess your hair up, Captain. Don't be a baby, Smollett. That's all we need. Enough of Withers, and we'll fix it right up. I'll be right with you, Governor. Smollett, you may turn round now. Withers is just there in the sun porch. Draw back the curtain, old man. Good Lord. Yes. Messy. Now, you, Smollett. Now, you've just got to drag him through the door and dump him in the old well. Just beyond the door, Captain. I won't touch him. I won't. All right, all right. Stand aside, George. Out of range, George, just over there. There's only one place I want this charge of shot to go to. Now, Millie, you keep quiet and stop sniveling. My aim is... Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Smollett, much better. I go along now. In here. You've got to take him outside, old boy. Why, the shoulders ought to do it, Captain. You keep quiet, George. Now, go on, Smollett. Go on. Under the arms. You've seen dead men before. Now, don't go green. Drag him out. Drag him out, boy. You little pulling. I'll just hold the gun here to make sure. Everything goes all right. Steady now. Mind the step there. Come away from the window, dear. Don't look. But, Captain, Smollett... Your father is a very resourceful man, Millicent. I'm sure what he's doing is a... But, the Captain, I can't stand this. You mustn't question your dear father. No, you're too still, I did. There's enough trouble around here without blabbering. Don't you call me blabbering, George, Princey. Well, you see, Smollett, everything is perfectly safe. You remember, you see, that no one knows that with us came here. Everyone thinks he walked off to Liston. And he's at five miles of country to search. They'll never look in our well. Don't you see how safe it is? I guess so. Good heavens, oh boy, you're dripping wet. Why don't you slip your raincoat on? Is the tea ready, dear? In just a minute, dear. I'll ring for Bridget. It's exactly what you need, Smollett. A nice, hot cup of tea. It's the best thing in the world to ward off a cold. Sit down, won't you, old man? Don't you mind getting the chair wet. That's all right. Would you have a cigarette? I hope so, for a while. I stick to my pipe. Funny how you get attached to pipe. My wife always says to me... There's a tray in front of me here on the table. Say, Captain, oh, you cut your lip. Oh, well, I just knocked it. Why, how dreadful. Here, Bridget, give the Captain this cup. No, no, no, thank you. I... I... I'd rather think I'll be running along if you don't mind. Why, Captain Smollett, without any tea... If you don't mind, Mrs. Princey, if I could just have my raincoat. Oh, I'll get it for you, Captain. This is a very distressing Smollett. Very on. I'll be all right presently, I'm sure. Oh, here we are. Let me help you, sir. Thank you, young man. There. You better go out the front way, Smollett. The walk is dry. Oh, let me hold the door for you, Captain. And don't worry, old fella. Don't worry at all. No, no, no, I... I... Good afternoon. It's nothing serious, I imagine. Dear little rest, of course. You'll be as right as rain. Oh, by the way, Millicent, you're not... You're not looking any too well, dear. Not well at all. I'm sure it was that croaky coat. Being outdoors in weather like this is simply foolhardy. Huh? Mate is right, Mary. You saw what happened to Captain Smollett. Come along, dear. I shall give you a hot foot bath and put you to bed. A couple of days in bed and you'll be fine again. Now, you get plenty of rest, Millicent. And don't you worry about a thing. I've got the best cure for you, dear. I guess I'll have a little nap, too, Governor. Fine, I've known for a nap. Yes, it is. Nice. Indeed it is, Sam. Well, enjoy yourself, boy. I'll see you later. I'll see you all later. Oh, uh... Would you get me to police station? Police station? Right away, sir. Police headquarters. Sergeant Yancey speaking. Oh, hello, Sergeant. This is Princey of Abbott's Road. I believe you know me. Oh, indeed I do, Mr. Princey. Sergeant, a rather horrible thing has just occurred. Quite extraordinary. It's murder, in fact. Murder? I'm afraid it looks rather bad. Well, it's for a close friend of ours, unfortunately. We saw him do it. I think you'd better send someone over right away. Oh, man should be there right about now, Mr. Princey. I beg your pardon. I say, our man should be there now. Constable Martin has his post right below your house. Come in. Seems Captain Smollett was with him. Captain Smollett? We reported some rather queer goings on at your place, but I certainly didn't understand it was murder. But just don't touch anything, Mr. Princey. And don't worry. Don't worry at all. No, no, no, no, no, Sergeant. Oh, don't worry, thank you. I'm right here and stop shouting. We have some visitors, Governor. I can see that. Well, Constable, good afternoon. Good afternoon. Hello, Smollett. See what a remarkable fellow you are coming back like this, here to re-enact the crime. Only the one against me, Princey. The one against the curate, I'll leave to you people. Extraordinary sense of humor you have. Mr. Princey, I just had a look at what's in your well. Not up to you. I'm sorry. Mr. Princey, I just had a look at what's in your well. Not a pretty sight, that. Not pretty at all. Yes. Captain Smollett was thorough, if nothing else. You saw him when he did it, sir? Out in the back? Oh, yes, yes, oh, quite. We were just returning from a walk, and Smollett has evidently been laying for the curate, hiding out in those bushes by the road, I imagine. Oh, he was never inside this house. Never? And you say, Captain? I say that while I was inside this house, a guest of the family, I was coerced into dragging the curate's body outside and dumping it in the were. Well, there we are. Well, not entirely, Constable. I'll just remove my raincoat here and demonstrate how damp I got my clothes when I went outside without it. Hmm. Now, that's interesting, isn't it? Yes, yes. He undoubtedly removed his coat at some point between here and your post. I might as well tell you that his weapon, a red, croaky mallet, is out by the side of this house. I shouldn't be a tall surprise that you'd find his fingerprints all over it. All over the end of the mallet, Constable, the end that mashed wither's head. Not the end I'd have to grasp in order to do the mashing. That's a decent try, Smollett, but it won't work. There must be other evidence, Constable. You undoubtedly find it when you examine the body. He means a hair under wither's nails. Well, sir, I happen to notice something when your young George there opened the door for me. If you'll carefully look, I believe you'll find a few of my precious hairs under his nails, too. What are you trying to say? George, will you? Constable, this is a complete waste of time. So far there's a violent struggle between Smollett and wither's concern. Smollett's face speaks for itself quite eloquently. But no more eloquently than your son's knuckles. As you see, Constable, a fresh abrasion. He did that on my teeth. Oh, uh... Or, uh, did he? What? I said, uh... Or did he? He might have done that on wither's teeth. Oh... Oh, I see. I see what you mean. Oh, but I didn't get me. You keep still, you nitwit. Let me think. Let me think. As a matter of fact, George, the more I think of it, the more convinced it was your voice I heard. Quite a vigorous quarrel. Something about the, uh, curate. Guilting your sister. Don't be ridiculous, Smollett. Very well, Pincey. If he didn't do it, who did? Yes, that's what I like to know. How about it, Mr. Princey? Yes, that is a sticker all right. George, my boy, it looks to me as if you're elected. Elected? What do you mean? I didn't do it. Well, I won't, sir. I'm not going to take the blame for her. Milly did it. She did it with the mallet I saw. Me? Milly? You could prove that? Prove it? Well, yes, yes. Her fingerprints on the mallet. Why, George? Don't you remember when you made me touch the mallet when you picked it up with your handkerchief? George, I'm sure you wiped that handle clean. Oh, well, I can hardly expect you to remember that if you can't even remember killing the curate. Well, I think... I told you to keep still, George. I am thinking. You're not going to let him say that. As long as I can remember, George, you have been a trial and tribulation to me. What? You shouldn't have done it, George. Oh. You shouldn't have done it. Now it's all over nice hot cappuccino. Warms the cockles of the arms. Very good for you. And so closes wet Saturday starring Mr. Charles Lawton, tonight's tale of suspense. In just a moment, we shall hear again from Mr. Lawton. But first, let me ask you a question. Isn't it true that things we most enjoy are so often the little extra things, and more often than not, something that pleases the taste? That suggests a bottle of really good wine, Roma wine. It's so easy for you to make certain of high quality in your wine, because all you have to do is to go to your dealer and ask for Roma, America's largest selling wines. They are made in California, one of the world's greatest wine producing sections. You'll have your choice of Roma's great variety of types, from a delicious tangy sherry, a brilliant claret, or a hearty burgundy to a sweeter, prettier port. And you will be so impressed by the modest cost of Roma wines, you will want to enjoy them regularly at home, as well as when you entertain. For this traditional form of hospitality is smart, yet inexpensive. A full measure of enjoyment, yet moderation in its best sense. For wines with greatness of character, always ask for Roma wines. R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. But remember, before you buy wine, buy war bonds and stamps. Hello, this is Charles Lawton. I hope you enjoyed our play this evening. And next week I'm told that suspense will bring you another of John Collier's stories. It's one of my very particular favorites. It's called Back for Christmas, and your star will be Peter Laurie. Charles Lawton appeared by courtesy of Metro-Golden Mayor, the Technicolor Musical Thousands cheer. Don't forget then, next Thursday, same time for Peter Laurie in Suspense. Presented by Roma Wine. R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.