Now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Roma Wines present Suspense.
Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Miss Faye Bainter as star of The Lucky Lady, a suspense play
produced, edited and directed for Roma Wines by William Spear.
Suspense, radio's outstanding theater of thrills, is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines.
That's R-O-M-A, Roma Wines, those excellent California wines that can add so much pleasantness
to the way you live.
To your happiness and entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals.
Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Faye Bainter
in a remarkable tale of Suspense.
When the police accused George with the murder of those young actresses, I took up for him
till the very last.
Of course, I should have known better because Lady Susie didn't trust him, and Lady Susie
is a smart cat.
She has a way of picking winners among humans.
On the surface, George didn't look like a criminal, big and gruff.
There was nothing unusual looking about him except his hands.
Still, that peculiar antagonism between George and Susie from the very first day came to
work for me at Rehearsal House.
It was a dismal afternoon.
The rain had been pouring steadily for hours, and in the unreal half-light of the old brownstone
parlor, those blunt twitching fingers seemed grotesquely alive with evil.
I was frantic or I probably never would have hired you.
What's your name?
George.
George.
George Smith.
Married.
My wife's dead.
Oh.
Any children?
One, a girl.
Where is she?
Dead.
Oh.
I don't talk about it, Mom, ever.
I see.
Any references?
No, but I'm a good worker.
Oh, goodness knows, that's what I need.
You want me to stay on the place?
Oh, yes, indeed.
There's a small room down in the cellar that our last handyman used before he went to the
munitions factory.
It's quite comfortable.
Come along.
I'll show it to you.
You're showing me the room?
This means I'm hired?
Well, for a while, at least.
Of course, I don't like your not having references, but with the men's shortage...
You won't regret hiring me, Mom.
Well, in a girl's boarding house, we just do need a man for the heavy work.
There's always the furnace to tend to...
Only girls live here?
Young actresses.
I was one myself years ago.
Actresses?
Yes, poor dear, they don't have an easy time.
That's why I opened this boarding house, just to help them out as much as I can.
Actresses?
Hmm.
Pretty ones.
Here's the door to the cellar.
Now watch your step.
Anybody home but you?
Just me and Susie.
No, no, you don't have to take my arm.
Just hold on to the railing.
It's a cat!
A cat!
Get away!
Get away!
Stop kicking my cat!
You devil!
Stop it, I say!
Susie, come here!
Mr. Smith, what do you mean?
I'm sorry.
I never liked cats.
They bring me trouble.
Then obviously, you're not the one for the job.
But I gotta have this job.
Not if you're going to treat my cat that way.
Why this whole house revolves around Lady Susie.
Lady what?
Lady Susie, my cat.
The girls here at the house call her Lucky Lady Susie.
A cat Lucky?
She's brought luck to many an actress right here in this house.
Why the girls regard her as some people do a rabbit's foot or a luck charm.
She's a tradition.
Well, if she's that important, we'll get along.
Won't we, Kitty?
Nice Kitty?
No, I wouldn't have hired George, but I had to have a handyman.
But I think I realized right then that he was no good for the house.
Even if he was startled, that was no excuse for a great big man to kick a harmless little
pet.
My mother always said, any man who isn't kind to animals is not to be trusted.
But what with the war and...
Well, George was a good worker.
However, he and Lady Susie never did get along.
Odd too, because she was friendly with everybody.
By strange coincidence, girls that she'd scratched in a playful mood had achieved fame in the
theater soon afterwards.
Also lucky Lady Susie was pampered and coaxed by the young hopefuls at rehearsal house.
The girls usually stopped by my parlor for tea every afternoon before going up to their
rooms to change.
Of course, Lady Susie was always here.
More tea, Alice?
No, thanks, Miss Plymouth.
You, Jane?
Half a cup, please.
It may get me out of this blue mood.
Here you are, Jane.
And your usual cream.
Thanks.
Come here, Susie, and sit on my lap.
Oh, if you'd just bring me a little luck.
Now, Jane.
I'll never get anywhere in the theater.
Just keep on plugging, dear.
You'll make it.
Did anybody hear how Diane came out with a reading?
She should be home any minute now.
Poor dear, she's worked so long for a break.
Haven't we all?
Oh, but Diane will get along.
I'm sure of it.
She got the good luck token from Lady Susie last week.
Miss Plymouth, girls, you darned...
Diane!
I made it, I made it.
I got the part.
No, dear, not tell us all about it, please.
Oh, and all because of Miss Plymouth, the guardian angel of struggling young actresses.
Who feeds us three meals a day.
And never submits a bill.
And has the most wonderful cat in the world.
Susie, you know, don't you, that you're making me a famous actress?
Now, Diane, Susie just gives you confidence in yourself.
There's nothing to the superstition that...
Oh, yes, there is.
One tiny scratch from lucky lady and success is inevitable.
Why, only last week she scratched Diane, and now, look, she'll be a star over now.
Oh, yes.
I think it...
I'm very happy for you, Diane.
Thanks.
Oh, Susie, why don't you scratch me?
Just a tiny scratch here on my head.
Here's your tea, Diane.
Miss Plymouth, oh, thanks.
Fire feels good on a day like today.
Come here, Lady Susie, let me tell you about my part.
What's wrong with Lady Susie?
Just keep talking, girls, until I get over to the door.
I've got to tell you, it's the most...
I thought so.
George, what are you doing up here?
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
I'm going to the bathroom.
So you got the part you wanted?
That's fine.
Oh, yes, George, isn't it thrilling?
You'll be a great actress, Miss Diane.
Nice kitty, hush.
That will be all for now, George.
But if you'd like me to fix the fire...
When we need more wood, I'll call you.
Yes, ma'am.
Good evening, Miss Diane.
He knows everything about us, doesn't he?
I don't like it. The idea, he's listening at the door.
Oh, come on. Now, Flemmy's harmless. He's lonely.
Poor man does everything he can for us.
You trust everybody, Diane. Too much.
Well, it does seem safer with the man in the house.
There's something sinister about him, and Susie doesn't trust him.
The way she claws the rug and that strange yowl of hers, whenever he's around.
I wonder why she does that.
Could be a warning of some kind.
Just be careful, girls. I don't want anything to happen.
Oh, Miss Plym, thanks to lucky lady Susie.
Nothing but good can happen to me from now on.
Diane did become a success.
The play was a hit, and overnight her fame had spread from Broadway to Hollywood.
There were radio contracts, movie offices, magazine spreads.
Diane was the toast of the hour.
Lady Susie was enjoying her share of the fame, too.
But Diane's press agent knew the value of a good story.
He played up the superstition of Susie's ability to pick a winner.
Diane and Lady Lucky had pictures taken together.
Soon my shabby rehearsal house had become the residence for aspiring actresses.
And I was turning girls away.
Do you know, even with her fame, Diane refused to move to a better house.
She stayed on in her little single room, with a one overhead bulb as though nothing had changed.
At first she was so happy, it was a joy to be around her.
But then it began.
She'd stare into space for minutes at a time.
There were worry lines between her eyes.
Being an old actress, I knew too well what her trouble was.
One night, Lady Susie and I stayed up later than usual,
just to cheer her up when she came home from the theater.
Hello.
I am tired.
You haven't been your cheerful self lately, Diane.
Plimmy, you were a famous actress once, weren't you?
Yes, dear.
How long did it last?
Your fame, I mean.
Oh.
Until a new toast to Broadway came along.
Then I faded into obscurity again.
Wasn't that terribly hard to take?
It's so cruel.
One never gets used to it, Diane.
Plimmy, I couldn't bear it.
To be unknown again?
To go on living with only dreams of the past?
Every actress has that fear, Diane.
But don't worry, darling.
Perhaps...
I won't.
Ah.
Well, I guess I'll go upstairs now.
Why don't you take Susie upstairs with you?
She's good company.
Oh, Miss Plim, you think of everything.
Susie's just what I need.
Now, don't you worry your pretty head about the future, dear.
It'll take care of itself.
Good night, Miss Plim.
Good night, Diane.
Miss Diane.
Oh, George.
I didn't mean to scare you.
Oh, it's so dark out here in the hall.
I didn't see you.
You like that cat, Miss Diane.
Oh, Susie's a good luck cat.
Cats bring nothing but evil.
You're up late, George.
I stay up lots of nights till you come in.
Oh?
You're so pretty, Miss Diane.
Your hair, your face.
You walk nice.
George, you shouldn't...
Susie, Susie, hush, hush.
She always yells that way.
She don't like me, Miss Diane.
She's just like the cat my daughter had.
Your daughter?
You make me think of my daughter, Miss Diane.
She was pretty, too.
She... was killed.
Oh, George, I'm sorry.
My daughter and my wife, they...
was killed, sudden.
Both at once.
Oh, how horrible.
I keep trying to forget.
Then I see you and I remember all over again.
George, you mean that I...
I heard what you were saying to Miss Plim.
You're worrying about your fame lasting.
Miss Diane, you'll be famous as long as you live.
I know you will.
Thank you, George.
Now, good night.
Good night, Miss Diane.
I'm sorry, Miss Diane.
You're right.
It's all right, Miss Diane.
I'm really sorry.
It's all right, I'm sorry.
Oh, Susie, shh, shh.
Susie, be quiet.
Why are you so afraid of George?
Susie, oh, heaven.
Susie, the light bulb's burned out.
Oh dear.
Miss Plim.
Oh, Miss Plim.
Yes, Diane.
The bulb's burned out and it's awfully dark up here.
What'll I do?
Oh, that's a shame, Diane.
George?
No, George will fix it.
What's the matter with you, Susie?
I thought cats could see in the dark.
All right, all right, let's go over by the window.
There's some light from the street lamp over there.
There we are.
Ah, this is better, huh, Susie?
I wish George would hurry with that light.
Susie, Susie, what's the trouble?
Kitty, what...
Oh, my God, Susie,
what's the trouble?
Oh, my God, Susie,
what's the trouble?
Who's there?
George?
Susie, Susie,
you're scratching me.
George?
George, I know you're in this room.
George, you...
George...
Let go of me!
What's all this? What's...
Of course, we all heard the screams coming from Diane's room,
and I rushed upstairs at once.
I walked into the room, and there lay Diane.
I think all the girls knew instinctively,
just as I did, that she was...
George.
That awful George was staring into her face
as though he was in a kind of a trance.
She's fainted.
Where do you miss Diane? She's fainted.
Fainted?
She's dead.
For suspense, Roma Wines
are bringing you as star Faye Bainter
in The Lucky Lady by Ruth Bartlett Vemeck.
Roma Wines presentation tonight
in radio's outstanding theater of thrills,
Suspense.
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And now Roma wines bring back
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Faye Bainter, who as Miss Leonora Plim
in The Lucky Lady,
continues a narrative well calculated
to keep you in suspense.
It was certainly a sad and dramatic scene
as we all stood there in Diane's room
looking down at her.
Even more beautiful in death than she had been in life.
George had that awful,
vacant look on his face.
Dad?
She's dead?
George, what happened?
I sent you up here to fix a light bulb for Miss Diane.
Then I heard her scream.
What happened?
When I came up to her,
she was screaming.
What happened?
When I came up, it was dark.
She left the door open and I stood in the room.
I could see Miss Diane from the street lamp,
but she couldn't see me.
She was talking to the cat.
I didn't mean to hurt her.
The light was shining on her pretty hair.
I just tried to touch it.
Now she's dead.
Pretty Miss Diane.
There were no signs of violence,
no unusual marks on her body.
Diane lay as if she was asleep.
When you police came,
you were sure at first that poor George was guilty.
But you could find no evidence to back up your suspicions.
Besides, even though we didn't like him,
everybody in the house was suspicious.
You know,
when we didn't like him,
everybody in the house took up for George.
The girls just couldn't believe that he was guilty.
Then, too, the next day,
a suicide note was discovered.
The inspector found it
between the pages of a recent success story
about the lovely young actress.
It said,
I don't know how much longer the success is going to last,
but I do know I couldn't stand being a nobody again.
Just any day now,
I'll be taking my final curtain call voluntarily.
For only one day,
can an actress achieve lasting fame.
The note was signed,
Diane.
Later, it was announced to the papers
that Diane Carville's death
appeared to be suicide.
However, before this announcement was made public,
the inspector had paid me a visit.
It's, uh,
it's about George, Miss Plym.
Yes, Inspector?
The state's attorney is satisfied
with the suicide verdict.
But I'm not sure that the state's attorney
is satisfied with the suicide verdict.
But I'm not. But, Inspector?
The screams George found in the room,
it doesn't make sense that Diane Carville killed herself.
Yes. But I can't prove anything.
There's no evidence. Just, just this uncanny hunch.
What do you want me to do, Inspector?
I, uh, look.
Look, I want you to let him go on working here
as though nothing had happened. But, Inspector?
Let him know you think he's innocent, that, uh,
that the case is closed. I can't see how...
Give him honey of rope. If he's guilty, he'll hang himself.
Inspector, the safety of my girl.
Possibly. On the other hand, he may be innocent.
There's no evidence.
No evidence.
When his wife and daughter died, there was no evidence either.
On the very day that George came back to work,
Jane, the young actress I've told you about before,
came running into the parlor all out of breath.
Oh, Miss Plym.
Why, Jane!
I got it! I got it! I'm set with a guilt!
Janey, oh, sit down, dear.
Have a cup of tea, then tell me all about it.
Well, it's the part in the play.
And, and Elliot Mugent said that...
Oh, Lady Susie, you wonderful creature.
Lady Susie?
Yes, last night. Look, here on my arm.
But you didn't say anything about it.
I didn't tell anybody.
I've been trying so long that I couldn't be sure
even Lucky Lady could change my luck.
But she did.
Well, of course, the cat had nothing to do with it, dear.
You believe she charmed you,
and you probably read better than you'd ever read before.
No!
Yes, George?
I was passing in the hall,
and I heard what Miss Jane said. I'm glad for you, Miss Jane.
Thank you, George.
Now, you'll be a famous actress, like Miss Diane...
George!
Excuse me, ma'am.
Well, it happened to Jane, too.
Just as Diane had done,
Jane became the toast at the town.
Then, right at the peak of her career,
she died, mysteriously.
And at rehearsal house.
There was the burned-out light bulb,
the horrible yowling of Lady Susie.
But this time,
George disappeared before the police arrived.
A city-wide manhunt began for George.
And in the meantime,
just as I'd done for Diane,
I wrote a letter of condolence to Jane's father.
I'm glad for you, Miss Jane.
I wrote a letter of condolence to Jane's parents,
sending all the newspaper clippings,
telling them what a blessing the poor child
has succeeded in a life ambition
before such a dreadful thing had happened.
Jane's mother sent me
a long, appreciative letter as Diane said done.
And I pasted the two letters
side by side in my scrapbook.
It was about the sixth day after Jane's death
that the inspector called me on the phone.
Now, listen carefully, Miss Plym.
What is it now, Inspector?
Yes? Listen, lock yourself in your room
and stay there until the police car arrives.
A man who looked like George Smith was seen in your neighborhood a few minutes ago.
Oh, Inspector. There's no time to talk. Lock yourself in.
It may be your life next. This man is dangerous.
But I've never handled a dangerous man before.
Don't under any condition leave your room.
He's probably sulking through your house right now.
Oh, dear, I... That's all, Miss Plym.
But Inspector, I...
Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
All alone and...
Naturally, I was frightened,
realizing that even at that moment,
a criminal or worse, a maniac
might be under my own roof.
When the inspector hung up, my mind was confused.
My heart thumping like a washing machine.
It was then that I heard
lucky Lady Susie.
She was howling the way she always did
when George was about, but it was even worse than usual.
But now she sounded as though
she were fighting in pain.
The sound was coming from the direction of the cellar
where George's room had been.
The warnings of the inspector were gotten.
The door was opened.
All I could think of was that my poor little cat
was probably being tortured.
Susie! Lady Susie!
Susie!
I opened the door
and I stood there weak and chilly all over.
For there was George,
angry as I'd never seen him with his big hands
as he was trying to push poor
Lady Susie into the furnace.
She was rising and scratching with all her might.
Lady, you had learned.
I came in here since the first minute I came to this house.
You brought nothing but bad luck.
You made everybody mistrust me.
George! George, drop that cat this instant!
Miss Priam.
George, I'm ashamed of you.
Poor little Lady Susie, or you poor, poor little pet.
Come here, kitty.
There, there.
George, I'm terribly angry with you, any grown man
who would try to push a poor little helpless kitty
into a burning furnace.
The cat's brought nothing but trouble.
Why, George, you don't look so well.
The cat would be better off dead.
It's brought nothing but evil.
George, why don't you come upstairs?
I was just making some tea.
Tea?
Come along, George.
We'll talk it all over in the parlor.
You know, the police are after me.
Of course, George, but they'd never think of looking
in my parlor for you.
They blame me with Miss Jane's murder.
All right, let's get the tea over with.
We'll just let it steep a second.
George, I can't forgive you.
George, I can't forgive you
for trying to kill my cat.
Why would you do such a cruel thing?
I hate cats.
They're evil.
I understand you're a dangerous criminal, George.
What do you prefer, cream or lemon?
Cream.
It was my daughter's pet cat
that turned over the kerosene lamp
and set the house on fire.
My wife and daughter were burned.
I got the blame.
There's your tea.
I got the cup.
Just the same, George.
You shouldn't have mistreated Lady Susie.
I'm going to turn you over to the police, you know.
How's your tea?
It's bitter, Mom. I don't like tea.
No, no, don't turn me in, Mom.
I tell you, I've got to get that cat.
She got me in all this trouble.
Drink your tea, George.
Yes, Mom.
Come on, open up in here.
Is that the police?
Yes, George. I'll have to let them in.
I'm here.
I'm...
My head, I'll...
I'll...
My goodness.
George is dead.
Oh, well.
Don't tear the door down.
I'm coming.
So you killed him,
Miss Plym?
Why, yes. You said he was a dangerous criminal, so I...
How, Miss Plym?
A little potassium bicloride
in his tea.
He thought it was sugar.
Potassium?
That's what I use for the girls, you know, Diane and Jane.
What?
You mean you murdered them?
I gave them lasting fame.
You what?
Their names will remain in the history
of the American theater forever
because they died at the peak of their success.
That's what they both wanted.
But...
But the suicide notes.
Oh, I wrote those, of course.
You see, all these years I've suffered
the tortures of being a has-been,
an actress who's no longer wanted.
I didn't want those lovely girls
to suffer.
But how?
The poison...
Well, the time was right.
I put bicloride under Lady Suzy's claws
and sent her up to their rooms with them.
That was perfectly natural,
as the girls loved her so much anyway.
The burned-out bulb was my idea, too.
You see, when George went in to fix the light,
he'd frighten Suzy.
Then she'd scratch the girls.
The poison would take effect almost immediately.
I kept telling you
George was innocent.
But... But, Miss Plym...
No, you were right about George.
I never should have trusted him.
Wasn't it dreadful
what that horrible man tried to do to my cat?
Suspense!
Presented by Roma Wines.
R-O-M-A.
Made in California for enjoyment
throughout the world.
Before we hear again from Faye Bainter,
of the Lucky Lady tonight's suspense play,
this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.
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Roma Wine. Made in California
for enjoyment
throughout the world.
This is Faye Bainter.
It's been a pleasant and stimulating experience
as usual to make an appearance on Suspense.
Where an actress never knows until she's read
the very last paragraph,
whether she's a deep-dyed villainess or a lady in jeopardy.
Mr. Spear has just been telling me
that next Thursday an actor
who is an incomparable favorite with
all of us will be your star.
That'll be Colonel James Stewart,
late of Uncle Sam's fighting forces.
Jimmy Stewart will appear in a role that I think
will surprise you.
One unlike any he has ever done before.
I certainly won't miss next Thursday's Suspense show.
And I know you'll make it a point
to listen to.
Faye Bainter will soon be seen in the Paramount production
The Virginian.
At the same time,
Roma Wines will bring you Mr. James Stewart
as star of Suspense,
radio's outstanding theater of thrill.
Produced by William Spear
for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California.
Suspense is broadcast from coast to coast
and by short wave to our men and women
of the armed forces overseas through Armed Forces Radio.
This is CBS,
the Columbia Broadcasting System.