 Mystery House. Mystery House. That strange publishing firm owned by Dan and Barbara Glenn, where each new novel is acted out by the Mystery House staff before it is accepted for publication. Mystery House. The title of the story we're trying out for Mystery House tonight, Barbie, it didn't intrigue me. Burry me not. That's not the only thing that will intrigue you. The whole story is full of surprises. Oh, not the whole story, Mrs. Glenn. What do you mean, Tom? Right about now, there's always an important message for our listeners. And here it is. Listen. Okay, places, everybody. Set the scene for tonight's story, will you, Tom? Burry me not. Tonight's story opens in the office of Police Lieutenant Cain. Vera Blythe is being questioned about the mysterious death of her husband. Well, I'm sorry, Mrs. Blythe. I don't like this any more than you do, but I have to have all the facts about your husband's death. But, Mr. Cain, I've told you. I don't know anything about his death. Oh, come now, Mrs. Blythe. You've admitted you and your husband have been quarreling. Of course we quarreled. Every married couple quarrels, but... But, Mrs. Blythe, you went too far, didn't you? Your temper got the best of you, and when your husband walked out... No! When he walked out, you followed him to his hotel room. No, no, I didn't. You brought a gun with you, not intending to use it, but you lost your temper. He goaded you. No, no, no, I didn't. I tell you, I didn't. Mrs. Blythe, look. The gun has your fingerprints all over it. It was lying on the floor next to your husband's body, and you were found rushing down the hotel stairs within three minutes of the time the shots were heard. But I didn't do it. He telephoned me. I thought he wanted to make up. I went there because he called me. Mrs. Blythe, the evidence is all against you. You went to his hotel room and asked him to come back. Your pride was hurt, or if either of you were to walk out, you wanted to do the walking, so you tried to get him back. No, I didn't even know where he was until he telephoned me. You went to his room and he only laughed at you. He told you it was all through. And because he was so calm, you got hysterical. And before you knew it, you had the gun in your hand. He was still laughing at you. So you pressed the trigger and fired at his laughing face. You couldn't take your hand off the trigger. The gun kept right on firing, and the bullets kept hitting that laughing face. Yes, you wanted to wipe that laugh away forever. And from the looks of the corpse, you just about did it. Oh, no, I couldn't do it. I didn't touch the geek. Mrs. Blythe, you're suffering from shock. We call it a form of self-hypnosis. That's why I'm trying to help you. I want to restore your real memory of what actually happened. I'm suffering from shock. I shouldn't let myself get hysterical. Ah, that's better. But, Mr. Cain, I didn't do it. You did? No, no, not again. Now, let's not go through all this again. Please, Mr. Cain, let me tell you what I do know. Okay, okay, go ahead. Orham hasn't had an acting job for over a year. But actually, he was getting paid by Dr. Gale. Alfred Gale, the vitamin king? Yes. Orham looks so much like Gale that Gale hired him as a double. Why should Gale need a double? I don't know. I suppose Gale was afraid because he had so much money. That's ridiculous. I know, I thought so too. But Orham used his substitute for Dr. Gale at lectures. I mean, when Gale was engaged to give a lecture on health, he'd get Orham to appear for him. Your husband looks so much like Gale, the public couldn't tell the difference? Even I couldn't tell the difference. Except that, well, Orham had his car on his leg just below the knee. Yeah, well, what about their voices? Wasn't there a difference in them? Oh, yes, but Orham was an actor. He could change his voice so that no one would ever know. Why? This telephone call you said you got. You're sure that was your husband's voice? I'm positive. I lived with him too long to mistake it. But I don't see what's... Well, if you didn't kill your husband, then somebody else did. Now, I don't say I believe you, Mrs. Blythe. But it's just possible that this Dr. Gale did have a reason to be afraid. What do you mean? Well, supposing Gale had some enemies, the killing kind. If somebody told them that Gale had checked into this cheap hotel, they'd have seen that as a perfect chance to do away with him. You mean, maybe Gale had, to ever these men are tipped off, that he was registered under Orham's name? I said maybe. Now, look, can you identify your husband's body if it is his body by that scar on his leg? Yes, but that won't prove... No, it won't prove anything. But it may make it a little easier to get Gale to sing. Granted, he knows something about this. But... Nothing. We're going to the morgue right now. Because this is a morgue. Don't go pulling any flaperoo on me. Hold on. Oh, this is ghastly. I don't... Now, stay on your feet, Mrs. Blythe. Now, you want to get to the bottom of this thing, don't you? Oh, yes, but please hurry, Mr. Cale. I can't stand this awful place much longer. Ah, here we are. Here's the body. Now, just one look. Now, which leg did you say this scar was on? The right. There. What did you... What is it? I can't see in this light. He's gone. What? Yeah, the body's gone. There's nothing here. Just a sheet and an overcoat. What? And tell me all about it. Sit down, Brady. Sit down. Don't jump. And our chief, look. Brady, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's excuses. I've got bodies disappearing. I've got women feigning and going home to bed. But I ain't going to have excuses. Now, I want that body, Brady. Now, where is it? Chief, I'm trying to tell you that. Don't try to tell me, Brady. Just tell me. Where is the body? Where? Chief, it's... Don't tell me you know where it is, Brady. No, don't do that. That would be too much. Why, it's only four hours since it disappeared. Now, you couldn't possibly have found it in four hours. Now, could you, Brady? Where is the body? It ain't disappeared, chief. I've been trying to tell you. What? Now, Brady, look. I'm a patient man, Brady. But I'm not going to stand for any tomfoolery about this. Now, where did you find it? That's all you've got to tell me. Where did you find it? In the morgue. What? I've been trying to tell you. It was in the morgue all the time. Right in the same place where it belonged. It's there now. I'll show you. Brady, wait a minute. Calm down. Look, you don't seem to understand. The body I'm talking about was gone. I was there myself, Brady. I saw it gone with me on ice. And I still got 20-20 eyesight. So help me, chief. It's the truth. The body was right there where you told me it should be. And with a face all smashed in by bullet holes, too. Yeah, with a smashed face with... Brady, I'm warning you. You'd better be sure of this. If you... Oh, come on. We're going down to the morgue. And you'd better be right about this, Brady. I see. Here it is. Yes, I see, Brady. I see. I see. But, Conn found it. I'm too young a man to be having hallucinations. That body was not there when I was here with Mrs. Blythe. Now, chief, the guy in the office says it was there all the time. The guy in the office said, I don't care what the guy in the office says. It was not there. Now, that, I'm sure of. Now, let's have a look for that scar. If the scar is there... Now, what scar? The scar on his right leg. Mrs. Blythe says her husband had a scar on his right leg. Just below the knee. You mean you think there are two guys with their faces bashed in like that? Yeah, here it is. Here it is. Below the right knee. Yeah, I must be armed, Blythe, all right. Well, I hope you're satisfied. Satisfied? I'm a long way from satisfied. I want to know who pulled the hocus-pocus on that disappearing body. You know, chief, sometimes I think you're getting old. I'm a lot older than you're going to be unless you get... Pull that sheet back over him. Boy, that face his mangle gives me the creeps. Yeah, you're also getting soft. Shut up and come on. Yeah, where you going? To talk to Mrs. Blythe. Go ahead, step on it, Brady. Look, you don't have to worry about red lights. You're the cop, remember? Okay, okay, but what's the rush? I thought you said the blind dame went home to bed. Yeah, I know, I know, but that body switch is making me nervous. I think maybe I was a fool. You think? No. Shut up, Brady. I'll be making your face look like that when we saw on the morgue. That's still why the rush. I don't get you. Has it ever occurred to that thick brain of yours that maybe Mrs. Blythe played me for a sucker? Pull that fast shuffle in the morgue and then that faint, the pretty neat way of getting loose from us. You mean you didn't leave nobody to watch her? Of course I left somebody to watch her, Underwood. And he's about as smart as you are. But now look to you. So far, against you, I look pretty good. I've got dough that says the dame didn't do it. All right, all right, Skippeth, and turn this corner. You have to do that, you know. The Blythe place is that brownstone front there. Well, I still gotta hunch the Blythe dame is here. Yeah, I'll save your brains. We're going in and see. It's the second floor. Come on, Brady, come on. Come on. It's Underwood. They got Underwood. All right, go on. Find Mrs. Blythe. I'll look after Underwood. Okay. Underwood. Underwood. Underwood, did you? Hey, his pulse. He's gone. Hey, Brady! Right up. Yeah, they got Mrs. Blythe too. She's bleeding something awful. Yeah, let me look. Yeah, it's a flesh wound in the arm. Nice, soft place to get shot in the arm. Yes, they plot thickens. Mrs. Blythe, the only real suspect Lieutenant Cain had, has been shot by an unknowyled assailant. Or was she? Cain is right in casting suspicious glances at Mrs. Blythe. There might be more to this shooting than appears on the surface. At any rate, the second act of Berry Me Not will prove whether Cain's guess is right. Act two of Berry Me Not. Lieutenant Cain, back at his office, has called in the much-discussed Dr. Alfred Gale in the hope of finding some new clue to clear up the mystery surrounding the death of actor Orham Blythe. Now look here, Lieutenant. I'll be glad to answer what questions I can, but you must remember I'm a busy man. Yeah, well, sit down, if you please, Dr. Gale. The police are busy, too, you know. We want to get this over with as soon as possible. Oh, of course. Stupid of me, stupid of me. I must be more patient. That's part of what I call my manifesto of health. Patience. Must learn to use my own advice, huh? Well, we have to get information about the persons who've been threatening you. Threatening me? What do you mean, threatening me, Lieutenant? Oh, look, Doctor, we know you hired Orham Blythe as a double. That's true, isn't it? Yes, but... Mrs. Blythe believes you used her husband as a decoy against somebody who wanted to kill you. What's that? Ridiculous. Man in my position, respected, loved. Ridiculous. Not quite, Doctor. You had a reason for having a double? What was it? I'm a busy man. Too busy. Appointments, lectures, my vitamin business. Too many demands on my time. Forced to have someone to pinch it for me. Someone who could deliver my lectures and gain the same confidence in the public as myself. Obvious, isn't it? Someone who looked like me. A spitting image of me, huh? That was this actor fellow Blythe. Perfect. Looked just like me. Could talk, too. So I hired him to take over my lectures. Gave me more time. All right, Doctor. Orham Blythe gave you more time to spend on your gambling. What's that? Now look here. You can't... Oh, I can't. Oh, Doctor, well, I have. You know, the police have underworld connections, too. Underworld? My dear sir, do you realize... Suppose I talk for a while, huh? I've checked up on you through the underworld. And what do you think I found out? See here. I am a busy man. I can't sit around listening to false accusations. Oh, you misunderstand me, Doctor. I'm not accusing you. But certain characters in the underworld do accuse you of welching on a gambling debt of over $50,000. What's that? Oh, it's ridiculous. I'm a busy man. Too busy to be bothering with this. No, no, Doctor. Let's not waste time on the gambling debt. The point is that it's perfectly possible that somebody who had an interest in that debt might like to blow you to bits. Bits? What? You had me all wrong, Lieutenant. Oh, don't bother to deny it, Doctor. The point is, did you or didn't you get a tip that somebody was going to rub you out? And if you did, did you plant Orham Blythe in your place so that he was murdered instead of you? Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Yes, I don't blame you, Doctor. It wouldn't look so good to have the newspapers tell that story. No, it might affect the vital business. It's a trumped-up story if I ever heard one. That actor fella was always having trouble with his wife. Told me so himself. Obvious, his wife did it. Murdered him in... murdered him in cold blood. Isn't that the expression? You're a detective, too, eh? Well, then, how do you explain the fact that Mrs. Blythe was shot, too? Obvious. Trick. She deduced you were suspicious of her. Shot the policeman, then shot herself. Made it look like she'd been attacked. Found it easy to confuse you. Simple as that, is it? Yes, simple. Uh-huh, well, we'll see, Doctor. In the meantime, I'm going to give you a little protection against your gambling friends. Protection, eh? For me? That's right. Sergeant Brady is going to go with you. And he's going to stay with you, just in case. I assure you, Lieutenant, that it's absolutely unnecessary, absolutely. No, just a little service from your police department. I protest. It's an imposition. On who? Me, of course. You don't seem to understand, Lieutenant. I'm a busy man. Too busy to be worrying about policemen. You don't have to worry, Doctor. That's what Brady's paid to do. In the meantime, Mrs. Blythe and I have some unfinished business with the corpse. Corpse? Eh, what do you mean? That'll be all, now, Doctor. You'll find Sergeant Brady just outside the door. Now, look here. Good day, Doctor. That's right, Doc. I'm coming in with you. Imposition. I don't need protection in my own home. You never know, Doc, with the friends you've got. I might as well do the thing gracefully. Make yourself at home, Brady. Have a cup of coffee. I could stand some, Chairman. Hey, where you going? Oh, great, Scott, Sergeant. You seem nervous. I said where you going? Oh, just to get the coffee, Sergeant. All right, but just remember where you go, I go. Exactly what I was thinking. Ridiculous, isn't it? What's ridiculous? You going every place I go. I got my orders. I'm sticking to them. Of course, of course. You're here to protect me, huh? That's right. Exactly. Strikes me, Brady. We might make a bargain, huh? What are you talking about? Simple. You want to do your job? I want to do mine, huh? Yeah, only right now you are my job. Yeah, so it seems. It occurred to me, though, we might make our jobs easier for both of us. Now, what do you mean, then? Simple. I can't do my job with you gauging constantly over my shoulder, and I fear following me every step is going to prove irksome to you. Maybe so, but that's the way it is. Uh, suppose you were to... Listen, Doc, I know what you're going to say. Only it's no deal, see? No matter how busy you are, I'm sticking with you. If your friends take another crack at killing you, I'll be ready for them. And then... Hey, who turned out them lights? Maybe do this again. This is the most horrible place. Well, I'll really, Mrs. Bly, this time it'll only take a minute, but I want you to see that scar, just to be sure the body is your husband's. Isn't this the place? Yeah, it should be right here. Let's take you. Now what is it? No, no, not again. They can't do this to me. What is it, Mr. K? What? No, you look. I'm wrong. Tell me, I can't see anymore. What? What? It ain't true, is it? There's no body there. Tell me, go on. It isn't gone. Come on, we're going to... But, Mr. King, are you sure it couldn't... couldn't the body have been moved? Maybe this isn't the right place. Oh, no, I made sure that when we came in here. They swore up and down it was there right where it belonged. Now there isn't even an overcoat under the sheet. Oh. No, no, no, no, you don't. Now you can't paint on me again, Mrs. Blythe. Come on, we're getting out of here. I don't understand. Neither do I, but this time I know you didn't do it. Now all I get to make sure of is that Brady was watching Dr. Gale. Brady, for the love of Pete, what's happened to you anyway? Brady, come on, come on, wake up, wake up. Come on, Guy. Here, here, start on Tygo's knots, Mrs. Blythe. Hey, what the... Oh, hello, gee. Oh, my head. What a wallop. You got an aspirin? Oh, thank goodness he isn't badly hurt. Hey, what happened? What happened, he says. Brady, I left you in charge here, you remember? You're supposed to tell me what happened. I ain't in the mood for jokes, Chief. All I know is I get conked as soon as the lights go out. The lights? They're on now. Hey, look, I'm sitting here with that stuff shirt, Dr. Gale, and he's trying to talk me out of dog and his heels when all of a sudden the lights go out and whammo. Somebody takes a cut at me from behind. I should have given you a bodyguard, I guess. Where's Dr. Gale? In my left pocket. Are you being funny? Well, let's find him. Sure, where? Where? We'll have to search the house. He may be a stiff by this time. Oh, please, no more dead bodies. Come on, where's the stairway? Maybe he's upstairs. Yeah, right through this archway, you hear? Okay, let's... Hey, hey, Dr. Gale. Yeah, they got him, too. No, he ain't dead. You can feel his breath. Who shot him? He wasn't shot, Mrs. Blatt. He was hit on the head with a blackjack and then choked. But the murderer must have been in a hurry. He didn't choke him long enough. Yeah, but look at those fingernail marks on his neck. There's still blood coming from him. Well, let's pick him up, Brady, and put him on a bed somewhere. Okay, there's a big sofa in the parlor. Here, here, I got him. All right, easy now, Brady. You've got his legs all tangled up. No, no, no, he can't be. What's wrong with her? Here, help me put it down. Oh, I should have known, I should have known. Mrs. Blatt, now what's the matter? I should have left you at home. Look at his legs. Look. What's the matter with his legs? Can't you see? You pull the trouser leg up. What? Brady, look, that scar. It's Aram. It's my husband. Hey, hey, he's moving his eyelids. Now calm down, Mrs. Blatt. Maybe Dr. Gale had a scar, too. Oh, not just like that. It couldn't be just like that. Look out, chief. He's coming to you. Get away from me, coppers. I'm getting out of here and I won't hesitate to shoot. No, no, you don't. There's a gun, Gale. Give it to me. What do you think you're doing? Yeah, I knew this guy was a rat. Aram, Aram, what's the matter with you? Greetings, Vera. So nice to see you again. Oh, so you aren't Gale after all, huh? If you're not sure, how can you expect me to be? Aram, I knew you'd get into trouble, but this is... Really, Vera, your tears never were convincing. You've always been a horrible actress. Now you leave your domestic complaints out of this, Gale. I mean, Blithe, you've got some explaining to do. You mean the police department is stymied? You mean you need me to explain? My two cents, I... Hey, let him talk. That guy must have slugged me himself. He turned out to lie to the... Brilliant, Brady. Brilliant. An astounding deduction. Go ahead, Blithe. Talk. And now I get it. You didn't find the body of the morgue, did you, Chief? No, that's it. Blithe, you figured you could fool us with the body as long as your wife wasn't called to identify it. But when I told you I was going to take her to the morgue, you knew you had to get rid of that body. So you knocked out Brady. Then you got to the morgue ahead of me and back here in... Of course he did. Look at his fingernails. Blood. He grabs ahold of his own throat to make it look like he's been choked. Then he beans himself on that marble stairway so he's out as cold as I was. Wanted to pin it on your wife because you hated her, huh? Of course I hated her. Oh, I don't understand, or of what have you done? He was pretty cute. He wanted to trade places with Gale and get all of his money. All he had to do was kill Gale and make it look like he himself was killed. So he called you and asked you to come to his hotel. In the meantime, he had raised to have Gale get there just ahead of you. He took your gun, Mrs. Bly, to kill Gale, and left it there on the floor. He had everything arranged so that you'd be found at the scene of the murder. Well, I knew he hated me, but this... Don't waste your tears on him, Mrs. Bly. You're lucky to get rid of him. You know all the answers, don't you? But there's one little item I'm going to have the pleasure of telling you. The extra body. That was almost a masterpiece. Well... I was fortunate in learning you discovered the presence of the scar on my own leg. I knew if you saw Gale's body, you wouldn't find the scar, so... This better be good. So I telephoned a mission house and said I was giving a charade for which I needed a man with a scar just below his right knee. Of course, I used Gale's name and offered to pay him handsomely. When he arrived, I had no trouble destroying his face in the same way you found Gale's. Bullet holes are excellent for quick makeup. But the scar wasn't the same as yours. No, it would satisfy everybody except Vera. That's why you got to see the scar and she didn't. She didn't, yeah. Thanks to you killing a good cop and wing in her. Of course. I couldn't let her see either body. Two bodies and you thought there was only one. Two bodies? Well, I'll make you a little bet, Chum. There's going to be another one. Yours. And this time there'll be plenty of witnesses.