Suspense.
The hushed voice and the prowling step in the dead of night.
The crime that is almost committed.
The stir of nerves at the ticking of the clock.
The rescue that might be too late.
Or the murderer who might get away.
Mystery and intrigue and dangerous adventure.
We invite you to enjoy stories that keep you in...
Suspense.
For Suspense, tonight we present The Body Snatchers by John Dickson Carr.
Beware of the body snatcher who prowls after dark.
Beware of the graves he robs.
Beware of the murders he commits to provide new corpses for the doctors.
Up to the year 1832, the body snatchers terrorized England.
According to the law, only four bodies a year could legally be supplied to the surgeons for anatomical study.
And even these were a monopoly granted to the barbers and surgeons company of London.
But the study of surgery had to go on.
In hundreds of medical schools all over England, perfectly reputable doctors were compelled to buy bodies and ask no questions.
In 1828, burst the scandal of Burke and Hare, who found grave robbing too slow...
and murdered 16 persons in order to supply Dr. Knox of Edinburgh.
And so out of basic good purpose sprang the evil of...
The body snatcher.
Turn back the clock now to a cold night just 110 years ago.
Look into the brick kitchen of a house on Wandsworth Common, not far from London.
There in the light of a tallow dip sits old Mother Slade in her draggled body.
What's a keep in them? Two hours. Two mortal hours by the Dutch clock.
And they're not here yet.
Mother Slade!
On the graveyard not half a mile off.
And once I thought I heard church bells ring and one...
Mother Slade, did you call?
No, my girl, I did not call.
But I thought I...
And what are you doing up at this hour, my girl?
I was only locking up, Mother Slade.
Ain't it enough to have taken you over from a good-for-nothing mother not worth a gunpowder to blow her up?
Please, Mother Slade.
And given you a good ome and brought you up practically like a lidy with only the housework to do?
I'm sorry, Mother Slade, only I wish you wouldn't talk like that about me own mother.
And what do you do, Peggy Lester?
You stop up until this hour. You mislay me snap-box twenty times a day.
I was only going to say I thought I heard a horse and cart in the lane.
In our lane?
Yes, Mother Slade. There it is now.
Yes. Easy, my dears. Drive easy with the merchandise.
The doctors don't like it if you bump the merchandise.
Merchandise, Mother Slade? What's that?
I'll tell you what it is, my girl.
I didn't mean anything, Mother Slade.
It's your Uncle Matt and your cousin Rob are coming home from their business. That's what it is.
You hear that, Peggy Lester?
I didn't mislay you, snuff-box. It's on the table.
And if you don't want me to take my fingernails to you instead of a strap, you get on up to bed this minute. Do you hear?
Yes, Mother Slade.
I'm a-coming, my dears. Don't be impatient. I'm a-coming.
Nasty, dim light this candle gives.
Oh, Mother Slade has got the romantic so cruel she can hardly move.
Just pull back the bar, open the door.
Wilmette, did you get it?
Did we get it? Strike me blind, but that's a good one, ain't it, Rob?
Still the gab, can't you get? Get inside and close the door.
They ain't after you.
Ain't they? Can't you hear anything?
I thought I heard church bells.
More like a perishing funeral bell if you ask me.
Take it easy, Rob, take it easy. We've shaken them off.
Have we? I wish I was a servant of some people. The spades and sack is still in the cart.
Let them stay. Who's a-coming to find them?
Then you didn't get it after all, you sick scull perra.
Now don't you start a-blaming us.
Now you shut your potato trap, Mother Slade, or Matt will make you shut it.
What happened?
I'll tell you what happened.
He was too quick, that's what. The girl was only buried this afternoon.
The sooner the better, my dear. What's the good of the merchandise if it ain't fresh, eh?
You hold your noise and listen.
We left the awesome cart outside like we always do.
We creeped up to the litch gate of the churchyard.
Walk softly, Matt. Walk softly, Rob.
In your oily beaver hats and neck claws.
Under the starlight and the white frosted elms.
Take care of the graves, too.
Spring guns may be set in some of them.
To protect the dead from rodders.
And if the coffin is one of those new iron ones, all your labor will be in vain.
Open the gates softly.
Can't make such a bloody rye with them shovels.
I can't help it. I'm loaded down with all this stuff.
Oh? And who'll do all the work when we do get there?
I will.
Matt.
Aye?
Listen.
I can't hear nothing except your teeth, Jetherin.
Matt, there's other people besides us in the sea churchyard.
Aye, two or three hundred deaders. But they won't bother us.
I means living people.
Don't talk so.
Somebody's got a dark lantern. I see it flash past the gravestones.
Oh? Where?
Can't you see it there? It's a-coming straight toward us.
Yes. I see them. Come on.
They've seen us, Matt.
Let them have it, Matt.
He's a-down beyond the gravestones.
Cratch Dan!
They can't shoot through stone.
Matt, it says he's sacred to the memory of her-
It's the girl's relatives. They've been watching her grave.
They want to get out now. They'll have to climb the wall.
Oh, Strews.
If only I had me barkers.
First time in two years I've gone without a brace of pistols and this apple.
But you ain't got your barkers, Matt Patterson.
I got what's just as good.
Give me a shovel.
What are you going to do?
Charge them. This year's shovel's got a nice edge.
Are you daft?
They'll have to take time out to reload, won't they?
Do you hear that? Somebody started a bill.
That'll bring down every peeler within a mile.
If you want a tyvan ticket and a neck in your own rope, stop where you are.
But if you don't want to get scragged before your time, follow me.
That's all there is to it, Mother Slade.
We went out by the gate and blow me if they could stop us.
You're perishing nuns, cows.
Did they recognize you?
No. We had our neckaches, they ran our eyes.
And did you do it?
I don't know. There's blood on the shovel.
No, there ain't, Mother Slade. I wiped it off.
Anyway, we're here.
What I want now is a Christian fire to sit by and a drop of spirits to warm my stomach.
There's no spirits in the house, Matt Patterson.
Don't you lie to me, you ugly mother.
Let go of me, Matt Patterson. I'm warning you.
You'd better let him go, Matt.
There's no spirits. Only half a loaf of bread.
Don't I know it. I haven't tasted a drop of gin all day.
Black dogs on me back.
Well?
Mark it what I say.
The doctor was promised a corp tonight.
All right, dearie, he gets a corp tonight.
Oh, there's that funeral bell again.
What's the clock, old hag? Come on, spit it out.
A nice young corp without any trouble or bother.
Aye.
What about young Peggy upstairs?
Strike me blind.
What about it, eh?
You'd have to be mighty careful.
Why?
You'd have to smother her with a pillow while I sit on her legs.
That's what Burke and Eyre done up in Eddebury.
Then you don't leave any marks on them, see?
Here you are, for a tick weight.
If the doctors see they've been polished off, just plain murdered,
they won't have nothing to do with it.
These two eyes, they don't like it.
They like it or not, dearie, they all do.
Who's buying the beef tonight?
Dr. George Arnold.
Him? The young fella out full and white?
That's the man, dearie.
But I thought he was too pious and holy to play.
That's what Dr. Arnold thought too,
till they started putting the screws on him at Bart's college.
No corp, they said to him, no lecture.
No lecture, no students.
They all come to it, dearie, sooner or later.
What beats me is why they got to have these bodies.
You'd think the doctors killed enough people as it is
without a bayonet after they was dead.
Don't you question the ways of Providence, Matt Harrison.
You can't do it, Matt. You can't do it, Mother Slade.
You stole that noise by plenty.
Do you want to wake the poor girl upstairs?
But you can't do it. This Cove Arnold, he knows her.
Arnold knows who?
He knows Peggy.
Peggy Fair worships the ground he walks on.
Oh.
He set her on once when Mother Slade broke it,
accidental-like, and she can't forget him.
What's Arnold going to think when he opens up the sack and he finds us...
What can Arnold do?
He's bought her, ain't he?
He can't go to the police and say he's bought her.
Peggy. Peggy left her.
Don't do it, Mother Slade. Don't do it.
And how do you two sickheads know what Mother Slade is going to do?
You're going to kill her, ain't you?
Peggy. Peggy left her.
I... I thought I heard her moving about upstairs.
You did, Mr. Milkenwater. She's on the stairs now.
Rob, you're the least to be depended on.
Go out and fetch in the sack.
Don't do it. It'll bring us all bad luck.
Matt, you're a lad after me, aren't you?
You stop where you are and do just as I tell you.
Trim the candle. Let's have it all nice and snug.
What does she bring, do you think?
Fifteen guineas. Maybe twenty. Maybe more.
Twenty guineas? Strike me blind.
But this is a way of doing business that I like.
Listen. Did you call me Mother Slade?
That's right, my ducky. That's right, my little pet.
Put your wrapper round you and your slippers to keep your feet warm
and come right down here to Mother Slade.
I'm coming, Mother Slade. I'm coming.
Who in those times would be a surgeon and still be an honest man?
At that drugged hour of the night,
look into the sitting room of a spacious house.
Many candles are still alight there,
though they have burned down nearly to their silver sockets.
There is Chinese paper on the walls and a turkey carpet underfoot.
In front of the fire, now almost out,
sits Dr. George Arnold with his bottle-green coat and heavy hair.
Dr. Arnold, sir?
I beg your pardon, Mrs. Tankred.
Dr. Arnold, sir, it's gone two o'clock.
Yes, yes, oh yes, so it has.
You've got a lecture to deliver tomorrow and you'll be all worn out.
Why don't you go on up to bed?
Mrs. Tankred.
Yes, sir?
I'm not a housekeeper. I admire you and I can't do without you,
but would you please go away and let me alone?
Sure, I'm very sorry, sir. No offense intended.
Stop, I shouldn't have said that. I'm thinking too much, perhaps.
Smoking too many cigars, if you'll excuse me.
Why must they keep tolling that bell at East Hill Church?
Why must they keep it up all night?
Well, sir, Elsie says the parson told them to do it.
Wait, who is Elsie?
Oh, I know you're always up in the clouds, mooning over books and whatnot,
but I did think you'd recognize the name of your own parlour maid.
Oh, of that Elsie, I see. Well?
Elsie says it's because of the murder in the churchyard.
What murder?
Two resurrection men, body snatchers, sir.
Oh, you wouldn't know anything about such people.
No, no, no, of course not.
They were caught trying to rob a grave, but they got away.
One of them was a horrible big fella.
Split Willie Kendrick's head open with the edge of a shovel.
Is anything wrong, sir?
No, not exactly.
Well, I thought for a second, seeing how you looked.
Did they get the body?
Yes, sir, it was Willie Kendrick.
His head was split open with a shovel.
No, no, I mean, did these resurrection men get what they were after?
No, sir.
Thank God.
Oh, you may well say that, doctor.
Wasn't exactly speaking in the religious sense, but never mind.
Elsie says there are what she calls peelers all over the place.
Peelers?
Yes, these new policemen, after Sir Robert Peel,
and somebody from the new detective police
that they're using instead of the Bow Street Runners.
Well, Mrs. Tankred, I'm going to smoke one more cigar,
and then I'm going to bed.
Very good, sir.
You see, sometimes you give orders, then it's too late to recall them.
Whatever the medical practice is,
you can't look your conscience in the face afterwards.
Then I can't tell you how or why.
A miracle comes along and saves you, and you're free.
What was that?
Sounds like a horse and cart in the drive, sir.
Mrs. Tankred.
Yes, doctor.
Will you please go upstairs? Now, make haste.
Well, if it's visitors, sir, or even a patient.
Mrs. Tankred, you heard my instructions. Obey them.
Sir, there's the front door, then.
Yes, I heard it. For the last time, go away.
I will admit whatever visitors we have.
Yes, sir.
Good evening, dearie.
Oh, come into the sitting room here, Miss...
Mrs. Slade.
Oh, sir, just call me Mother Slade.
You don't hardly seem natural or friendly to hear anything else.
It's a pleasure to curtsy to you, doctor.
Cool. What a lovely room.
I... I suppose...
Your candles is going out, though. One by one.
Poof! Then you'll be in the dark.
I suppose you've come to report failure.
Failure, dearie?
I... I understand you didn't get what you went after.
Bless you, dearie. We got something just as good.
Finest piece of merchandise you ever saw.
You haven't got it here.
Bless you, dearie. Mother Slade always keeps her word.
Bring the merchandise in, my dears, so the doctor can see it.
Quiet, please.
Oh, it's crossed, dearie. I forgot.
The big seller with the black eyebrows is Uncle Matt.
The little seller with the watery eyes is Cousin Rob.
And between them, in that sack, they're carrying...
Who is it in the sack?
Nineteen-year-old girl, dearie.
Finest anatomical specimen you ever saw.
Merciful heavens.
Where do you want this thing dumped, Governor? Easy now, Matt.
Why did you bring it here?
That's where you told us to bring it, dearie.
Why did you bring it to the front door? Why not to the surgery?
Only place in the house where there was lights, Governor.
Hurry up. Now, where do you want it?
Well, take it...
Yes, dearie?
Take it over and put it in the cupboard there, where I'm pointing.
This cupboard here, sir?
Yes. Then close the cupboard door.
Shame on you two.
Cracking your muddy boots over the doctor's lovely turkey carpet.
Easy, my dears. Easy now.
All right, Robin.
Don't bruise the merchandise.
Whatever you do, don't bruise the merchandise.
Right, me blind, what's the odds?
You can't feel it now?
Here's your body, Mr. Sawbones.
Now, let's see your money.
Just one moment before I give it to you.
There ain't no itching. This is...
better not be.
No, I made a bargain with you and I'll stick to it.
Thank you. That's uncommon genteel of you.
Kind of stand back, sir. You're two stone a fat heavier than I am,
and you don't impress me.
Easy, Matt. Take it easy.
I want to ask only one question.
Where did you get that body?
That's a question, dearie, what people in your profession don't ask.
Why not?
Because they don't dare, that's why.
Would the police be interested in where you got the body?
No, dearie, not as so interested in as where we brought it to your house.
It's your responsibility now.
Yes, I suppose it is.
The victim wouldn't be by any chance that pretty little girl you used to treat so unmercifully?
You old your noise about how I treated her.
I was rather fond of Peggy.
Strike me blind. I think the saw both of you.
Get out of this house, all of you. Go on, get out.
Not without that money, dearie. It's 20 guineas now.
There's money on the table under that newspaper. Take what you want.
Get out of here before I...
Oh, what was that?
Aye. What was it?
A late visitor, I imagine.
Was you expecting anybody?
No.
Don't drop the lovely money, Rob. Don't drop it all over the carpet. Pick it up.
Is that the back way, are these?
Yes, it's the way you should have come. Through that arch and down the passage.
Thank you for the rhino, cabinet. And no games, mind you, if you know what's good for you.
Good night, dearie. Remember, you've got the body now.
Yes, I've got the body now.
Poor, poor little devil.
Dr. Arnold, sir?
In heaven's name, Mrs. Tancred. Haven't you gone to bed yet?
I had to get up, sir, to answer the bell.
Oh, yes, yes, of course. I'm sorry.
Dr. Arnold, what's the matter with you?
The matter?
You're as white as a ghost and you're almost crying.
Am I? Well, we must remedy that.
It's so dark in here, I could barely see a city there.
The candles going out one after another.
Nothing but smoke and an ugly smell of grease and that cupboard door.
What about that cupboard door?
I always declare, sir, it won't keep shut without any latch or bolt.
If you'll excuse the level...
Mrs. Tancred, keep away from that cupboard.
Dr. Arnold, sir? Are you ill or anything?
No, but keep away from that cupboard.
Who rang the bell?
Oh, dear, I was almost forgetting.
It's that man Elsie was talking to us about.
What man?
The officer of the detective police, sir. He wants to see you.
Well, I'll see him, but in some other room, not here.
As you say, there's not enough light.
Not a bit of it, doctor, not a bit of it.
Never too dark, as you might say, were the police are concerned.
I couldn't help it, sir. He must have followed me down the hall.
Are you...?
That's right, doctor. I'm Stalker at your service, Inspector Stalker.
How do you do, inspector? Mrs. Tancred, you may go.
By your leave, sir. I'll just get some more candles and put them in that bracket by the cupboard.
It's not in use.
No, you needn't trouble.
It's no trouble, sir. Excuse me.
First of all, doctor, I must apologize for intruding as late as this.
Not at all, inspector. Will you be seated?
Thank you, sir. Thank you kindly.
Now, I dare say you're wondering why I'm here.
Well, yes, I am, rather.
It's a bad business, doctor.
A very bad business.
You mean the murder in the churchyard?
Oh, you've heard about it.
Well, my housekeeper said something about a man being killed with a shovel.
That's right, doctor. Not much doubt about who did that.
No?
No. The little fellow dropped his dark lantern with the initials on it.
They're professional body snatchers. We've had our eye on them for a long time.
Speaking of body snatchers, doctor...
Well?
I expect this anatomy law is pretty hard on you surgeons.
It's an infamous law, sir.
Oh, the same, doctor. It is the law.
Yes.
And if any surgeon happened to be caught with a body, especially a murder body...
What are you hinting at?
Nothing, doctor. Nothing.
By your leave, I only want to ask a question.
Well?
What time did your friends leave?
Now, come, doctor. As one man of the world to another, do you see any green in my eye?
You're not going to say you had no guests when their horse and cart are still at your front door.
They didn't get away.
No, doctor, they didn't. They met a little reception committee as they left by the back door.
Derby's on the wrists. Snap.
Just as I might reach out and touch your wrist. Like this.
What do you mean by derby's?
Pancas. I've got a pair in my pocket.
Gags into their mouths. That's to keep them from biting.
Look, do we have to go on with this? You already seem to know everything I could tell you.
Not exactly everything.
I don't know, for instance, where you've hidden the girl's body.
You're a very diligent man, Inspector Stalker.
Pancas, sir, I try to do my duty.
You said a girl?
These gin muddled degenerates have been watched every second since they left East Hill Churchyard.
They hadn't a body then, but they brought one here.
And there's only one other person who lives in the same house with them.
Dr. Arnold, sir.
Mrs. Tankred, listen to me.
Yes, sir?
Must you always break in with the most completely ill-timed entrances at all the worst period of my life?
I was only trying to be helpful, sir.
That's right, madam. Always be helpful.
You had to have some light. Here's the candle, sir.
Five of them in a big candle album. We can hang them in the bracket.
Ma'am, hold up that light. Hold it high.
Really, sir? I'm not in the habit of being spoken to as...
Hold it high, I tell you.
Do as the Inspector tells you, Mrs. Tankred.
This is a very fine carpet you've got here, doctor.
Yes. Others have admired it tonight.
But it oughtn't to have footprints on it. Muddy footprints.
Footprints leading from the door, past the sofa, past the half, over to...
To that cupboard. Quite correct.
I think that's done it, Dr. Arnold.
I think it has, Inspector Stalker.
We couldn't have proved anything against you for that churchyard business.
But this...
Let me open Bluebeard's cupboard, Inspector.
Let me be the first to show you what's inside.
Who wanted a certain body, it appears you've come to the right place.
Now, look. Lord Almighty.
I'm the body, Mr. Police. Standing up, I'm very much alive.
And I'm wearing a nice new dress that the doctor gave me.
But I gave you.
Don't say anything. Please don't say anything.
Stop a bit, Miss. Aren't you Peggy Lester?
Yes. Just because the doctor has to be so terribly respectable...
and a girl who's fond of him has to come here in secret...
Wait a minute, everybody. Peggy Lester, you're lying.
I am not lying.
So that's it. Why didn't I guess it?
It's the oldest body snatcher's trick in the world.
Is it?
Of course, the old pinch penny like Mother Slade...
couldn't sacrifice a good household grudge.
Of course they brought the body here.
Instead of taking it to the surgery, where it might get locked up.
Could you be persuaded, Inspector, to tell us just what you're talking about?
The body snatcher, sir.
Well, what about them?
They take a living accomplice and put him into a sack...
and sell him to a green doctor as a dead man.
Yes, but see here...
They get the best price they can.
In the middle of the night, their accomplice gets up and robs the doctor's house.
And the doctor can't tell us because he's bought illegal goods.
I never intended to go through with it.
No, young woman.
I tell you, I wasn't going to rob the house.
They made me do this.
I was going to tell Dr. Arnold when I found out where they were taking me.
I pretended to go through with it so I could warn the doctor.
They can hurt so much, you'll agree to almost anything.
That sounds like the truth, but it puts me in a funny position and no mistake.
Oh, your three murderers, Inspector, seem to be leaving.
Yes, they're leaving right enough.
Trussed up like fowls and under guard.
Does anybody go with them?
How can anybody go with them?
I'm willing to believe this girl acted under threats.
She's committed no crime.
And I don't for the life of me see how we can touch you.
Can't touch me?
No, sir.
I confound you for making me lose a night's sleep.
There's no body.
You didn't even buy a body.
Will you tell me, doctor, just what crime you've committed?
And so ends the Body Snatchers.
The story of London at midnight, a hundred years ago.
And tonight's story of...
Suspense.
Columbia presents these tales of mystery and intrigue and dangerous adventure.
For your relaxation and enjoyment.
Next Tuesday, there will be another in this series.
Same hour, 9.30 Eastern wartime.
William Spear, the producer, John Deet, the director,
Alexander Semmler, the composer, conductor,
and John Dixoncar, the author,
are collaborators on...
Suspense.
This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.