 And now, tonight's presentation of Radio's outstanding Theatre of Thrills, Suspense. Tonight, the ironic story of an actor who played his part perhaps too well, thus leaving himself unable to better his performance. So now with Hans Conrad as Sam, here is tonight's suspense play, Rave Notice. When I'm walking across Times Square like this, I'm just an ordinary man. Plain, unnoticeable. It is though I were invisible, invisible. But wait, come here. Come with me through this door, through here, and into the darkness. Now, I breathe deeply of the thick dark air, and I become taller. My eyes, drinking the gloomy shadows, become lustrous, bird-like, noble. Here, in this temple of the passions, I throw off my cloak of invisibility, and I reveal myself, my true self. For this is the theatre, and I, I am an actor. Up there on the stage, beyond the empty seats, lit by the single-bear bulb, are my fellow workers. We are here to make a play. Friend Norman, sitting alone in the third row, is our director. This is the fifth day of rehearsal. It's not a bad little play, but you know Norman. Norman will manage somehow the spoilage. Norman will misdirect actors and lose values. I've known Norman for years. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Norman, why not? Why not? Because I am the director, and I say no. No. Very well. No, no. Try again. I wish somebody would tell me what it's all about. Life, I mean I wish somebody would give me the words. Now that is adequate. Well, thank you very much. Oh, please. Oh, I can't take five. Norman. Oh, that's the best. Oh, hello there. How are we coming? Oh, Sam, come over here. I want to talk to you. Sure, Norman, sure. What is it? Now, Sam, I have had to turn over the bell ringer to lose her. The bell ringer? Well, that's my part, the bell ringer. What do you mean, losing her? No, please, don't make it difficult for me, Sam. Difficult? I'm not making it difficult. The bell ringer role is mine. That's all. There's no difficulty involved. Oh, please. You joke. No, it's not as if I hadn't warned you. Well, tell me what's wrong. Tell me where I've stepped off, what irritates you, what doesn't fit, and I'll fix it. How shall I start? Well, that's my role, Norman. I carry the whole cast with that role. No, don't show. Sam, you're just making a fool of yourself. A fool? Why are you doing this to me? Because you are not right for me. Right? No. You fat pig, what do you know? No, easy. What do you know, what do you know about acting? You see, Sam, take easy there. Fat, fat belly, fat head, fat face, that's enough. You know nothing. I know you. I know actors. You are no actor. You stink. I'll kill you for saying that. I'll kill you. Witnesses, he threatens me again. Yes? Well, listen well. Norman, I'm going to kill you. You see, you can't even deliver that line. Oh, you stink. I want to buy a gun. Oh, yes, sir. And what sort of gun did you wish to buy, sir? One that will shoot through fat. Sir? Pardon me. I was thinking, what kind of gun? Well, what was it you wished to use the gun for, sir? I want to kill a rat. Oh, well, a 22 would be about your best bet. Well, then let me see here. Here's a nice little item here. That looks pretty small. This is an awful big rat, a fat rat. Oh, well, I think a shotgun. A 410. Yes. You think that'll do it? Oh, mister, this is a truly beautiful weapon. Yeah. Uh, bullets. You have bullets? Oh, bullets. Shells you use in this weapon. Very well. I want one. One box. No, one bullet. What? Yeah. This rat I'm not going to miss. It's time now. He'll come out the stage door and he'll walk this way because he's going to Saudi for a drink. I slide it out from under my coat. I smile. And I say, goodbye, Norman. And I pull the trigger. Heart of belly. Heart of belly. Belly, belly. Yes, his cultivated plunge. Fat belly. Yes, his cultivated plunge. Fatted with actors' hearts. Am I invisible now? Mustn't be noticed until the moment. Perhaps standing a little too tall. Sag. That's perfect. The actor plays himself as a non-actor. Oh, you should see this, Norman. Now. Goodbye, Norman. Sam, no! Yes! I am shocked. Norman, you're dying. Please, someone call an ambulance. Please, is this how you play your death scene? Please, Norman, you're dying. Please, play it. What a shotgun he did, right in the middle of 45th Street. Wow. It brought him in an hour ago. You be in any trouble? Yeah, like a land. Oh. You thought you liked to know that the guy, he's still kicking. Alive? He's alive? Yep. So you're not a murderer? Not yet. Oh. Hey, I brought your lawyer. What's that? I'm your lawyer. Oh, how do you do it? Sit down, won't you? Thank you. They say he's still not dead. No, but he's sinking. When he dies, I become a murderer. Yes. They'll electrocute me. Yes. I must have been crazy. I thought of that. What do you mean? Temporary insanity. I thought we might plead that. Why don't we? Because you threatened him before witnesses, at least twice, went to a store, chose a gun with great care, waited for him to appear. You did all this, and then you shot him. That's right, I did. That's premeditated murder. First degree murder. So the temporary insanity thing is our way out? The only other thing I can think of is, if we could prove you were insane all along. What would happen? I mean, if I were. Oh, they'd get the psychiatrist in, examine you, send you off to be cured. Of course. You seem very calm. I'm an actor. He's gone, and I sit here, seeming calm. From time to time the guard passes, looks at me curiously. I know what's on his mind. There sits a cold-blooded murderer. I know. All my life I've studied the human being, memorized their gestures, tones, expressions, inflections, emotions. I've learned to probe every moment of my own experience from earliest childhood, searched out every reaction, emotion, learned to feel the parallel emotions of others. The Stanislavski method of acting. Oh, I haven't. I know it. Of course, if we could prove you were insane all along. But I'm not. The insane man moves without motive. I had a motive. I know you. I know actors. You're no actor. But I am. No actor. No actor. No actor. No actor. No actor. Matt. I know a joke. A wonderful joke. I'm going to beat Norman even in his gray. I'm going to have myself exonerated of his murder. Yes, free to the charges. It's so simple I can hear it. Not killed here by a reason no one said. I'm going to play the greatest role of my life. Play it without makeup, without lights, without script or cue. I'm going to play a part strangely foreign to my nature. I'm going to play a homicidal maniac. You're listening to Rave Notice, tonight's presentation in Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrill's Suspense. Radio's only adult western drama, Gunsmoke, now comes to you twice every Saturday on CBS Radio. There's a thrilling daytime edition and the nighttime show as well, bringing you the old west as it really was dangerous, deadly and full of action. Meet Marshall Matt Dillon and all the other citizens of Dodge City who coped with lawless frontier elements just as their real-life counterparts did decades ago when the West was young. On most of these stations Saturday, daytime and night, enjoy Gunsmoke. And now we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage, Hans Conrad as Sam. In tonight's production of Rave Notice, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. I'm going to play a homicidal maniac. How? How? What is the most terrible thing I ever did? Thing closest to murder. I must recreate that mood. Mood, murder, killing, blood. I killed a cat once. I was six years old. I had a stick within an alley. This cat, I poked it, just to laugh. He didn't run. That's all I wanted to make him do, just to make him run. No, he scratched me and I hit him. I hit him with a stick. He started squalling and I thought, I'm going to get into trouble. Stop that noise. Stop that noise. I'm going to hit him again to make him stop. And again, to make him stop. And it was blood. Red blood on the grace of man. And struck and struck and struck out the screams, struck out the lights, struck out the awful gaze of those great yellow eyes. Strike out the lights, strike out the spirit, the spark. I kill a murderer I am. I kill for the thrill of the silence of the cat. I'm a murderer. A murderer. Am I? I kill without reason. That's the character. All I need for turning it on is the memory. Those key points. Grey cement, cat's eyes, my feelings as a six-year-old. There'll be refinements, of course. I'll refine it. Oh, Norman, if you're only here to see this scene, dim the house lights, raise the curtain, and now to get my audience in. Who may I ask? Are you? Huh? Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? Ah, come on now, Mac. Calm down. Don't know I asked a civil question. I expect a civil answer. Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? This is so nice and quiet for a while now. No, don't answer my question. That's all I ask. There's not much reward for a hero to be asking, or is it? Don't you know who we are? I think he's putting on an act. Turn your head away. We know you hear us. Ah, leave him be. You think he's kidding? What does it matter? Yeah. Well, that was very weak. You think you're better than that. You're supposed to be a murderer. A homicidal maniac, so that's the emotion. Guilty. Guilty, you've got to be guilty. Guilty, guilty, guilty. Smear yourself at the start. Guilty. Bloody hands. Guilty, and you want to be punished. Yes, punish yourself. That'll do it. It'll hurt. So what? Not like it hurts when you shave your head, slit your trousers, and strap you to your seat. Oh, that seat. 10,000 volts coursing through this poor player's frail body. Murderer. Guilty. Should be punished. One, two, three, curtain going up. Guilty, guilty, then blood on my hands. Blood and filth and disease. I smashed him on the grace of men and smashed him. Murder. Murder. I murdered him. I'm a murderer. So I want to confess to purge myself of this guilt. Oh, take it easy. No, no, I'm guilty. You hear? I smashed him. I smashed him. Well, you're getting so worked up about the guy and even dead yet. Not dead. He is dead while he's been dead these past 36 years. 36 years! Hey, what are you doing? If you want to punish me, I'll punish myself! Hey! Hey! I'm guilty, and I shall be smashed! I'm going to bust your head on the wall! If you know the writing and blood that lies across the counterfeit and the bed under the window where the little boys are supposed to be far away and slumberland, shoot and get the doctor! Getting the doctor. My hands, my hands are killing me. I think I broke something, then. I don't mind the bloody scrape. Knuckles are even breaking the nails, but I'm not the bones. I want to be sure I can use the dancing when I get out of here. But when? If I ever get out of here! Two cats dead! Murdered by my stick! About 15 minutes, Docs. It's just before essential death. I see. All right, now you can stop that. I don't look. I keep right at it. Keep in the car. Murderer. Guilty. Stop it! It hurts, but I'm paying the price. Stop! I'm paying my way out of being electrocuted. I'm going to be free! All right, grab him. No, please! Please! I want to pay. I'm the guilty one, and I want to pay the sentence of the cause! Let me go! I will pay! Hypodermic needle. Injection. It'll knock me out. I can't act if I'm unconscious. I can't play my pod. My guilty, guilty pod. I've got to hurt myself. I've got to hurt myself. So why is such sweet stillness and peace? Gone in the darkness of the cell, steel and concrete. There's white ceiling there. And they're watching me very carefully. The taller one, he's new. The other gave me the hypodermic. Yeah, hypodermic. How long have I been out? Did I say anything while I was out? Perhaps if I keep still there, they'll let me know. You say, shall definite suicidal tendencies? Suicidal, immediate, or simply self-destructive. While he was unconscious, I listened to him. He spoke, seemed under the delusion that he's invisible. Invisible? That's a new one. Look, he's opening his eyes. Hello? Awake? Who are you? You remember me, don't you? No. I gave you something to quiet you a little while ago. A little while ago? When you were trying to enter yourself, so we'd think you insane. You've decided to give that up, haven't you? I have to carry out sentence, you know. How will you carry out sentence? To be smashed. I'm to be smashed as I have smashed the cat. Is that the law? Yes, yes, I smashed him with a stick. Stick? You mean shotgun, don't you? Oh, why would I say shotgun if I meant stick? I said stick. Have you shot the man with a shotgun? You're out of your mind. After you smashed him with the stick, what happened? What? What came after he was dead? I was frightened. I went home. Mama was there. She said, how did you get blood on your hands? I said, a dog licked my hand. He had blood on his teeth. Understand you're an actor. We are all actors. We try to act innocent when we are guilty. Doctor, come outside a moment, will you? I've got them. I've got them. Just keep playing it cold and clear. What are they talking about out there? I wish I knew. It doesn't matter. I've got them. I know that. I've got them. I've got them. Well, I guess you'll be leaving us soon. Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You're understanding, Doctor. I am guilty and must carry out sentence. You know that. What the doctor means is that you're going to a place where they'll help you get well. Get well? Of course. Doctor, if you'll have the affidavits drawn up outside, we'll get a court order committing him. Right. Seems you were right all along. You know, I wasn't sure until you told me about the man who was shot, about his recovering. Oh, yes. The guards told this man he'd recovered, but he didn't comprehend, of course. He went right on screaming and punishing himself. I see. Well, let's go. What would they have given him, were he sane? It depends. If the injured party refused to press charges, he'd be out of here in an hour. A free man? Recovered? But they didn't tell me he'd recovered. How could he have recovered? I shot him in his fat pond. When did they tell me? It was while I was screaming, maybe. I was really into the plot then. I was deep in it. I couldn't have heard them. I couldn't have heard. And now, now he will walk out of here. I'll go off to an insane asylum, married to a role that I loathe that I hate. No! No! Doctor! Doctor, come back! Come back! It was all a joke, Doctor, a game! Come back! Come back! Please, Doctor! What is it? Oh, listen, Doctor, I have a confession to make. I'm not insane. Please, believe me. Believe me. Of course you're not just a little confused, that's all. No, no, no, no. You're wrong. Don't you see? Doctor was just a gag. Just a gag. Yes, of course it was. Now, you're going to a place where you can rest and everything is going to be all right. Oh, no, no, believe me. I am sane, believe me. Why shout? No, I'm not shouting. I only want to impress on you, Doctor. But you were shouting, rather loudly. Oh, look, my lawyer said that if I could prove insanity, I wouldn't go to the chair. Chair? I thought you were to be, you said smack. Oh, forget that. That was part of the method. Method? It's the Stanislavski method. It's a system of acting. What do you think, Doctor? I don't know. The man seems to be telling the truth. Think so? I could fool you all over again if you feel it's necessary to prove my point. No, I don't believe you'll be able to fool me again. Doctor? Same. I say the man is in full control of his faculties, is aware of his crime, committed out of what society calls sober motive. You, sir, do you agree with the doctor? Agree? That's what I've been telling you. And I say, same. That makes it unanimous. Well, unanimous. Gentlemen, never in the history of the theatre has such a performance been rendered, nor under such adverse conditions, believe me. Just one more question. Of course, Doctor. Why did you kill him? Kill him? But I did not. I shot him. That's obvious. Shot? You mean shot, don't you? Don't you? No. He... Norman, he is dead. And you are sane. And you are going to repay society with your life. Norman is dead! Gradually! Suspense. In which Hans Conrad starred as Sam. Next week, the story of several hours spent by two people in a deserted bus shelter and the slow realization by one that the other is quite mad. We call it the shelter. That's next week on Suspense. Suspense is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald with music composed by Lucian Morrowick and conducted by Ludbluston. Rave Notice was specially written for Suspense by James Cole. Featured in the cast were Lawrence Dobkin, Edgar Barrier, Parley Bear, Jack Prussian, James Nussar, Howard McNeer and John Stevenson. This is the CBS Radio Network.