Now, Roma wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Roma wines present Suspense.
Tonight, Roma wines bring you the MGM star, Mr. Keenan Wynne, as star of The Night Reveals,
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
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Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma wines bring you Keenan Wynne
in a remarkable tale of Suspense.
Go ahead, tell us the story, Mr. Jordan.
It might help to get it out of your system.
Yes, go ahead, Harry.
Well, tell it here, Marie, in front of you?
Sure, I can stand it if you can.
Well, all right, I'll tell it from when I first began to know for sure two weeks ago.
I should have known before that something was wrong.
I should have known by her eyes.
It was a queer look in them, staring at me one minute, avoiding me the next.
Well, I came home late one Monday night.
They were asleep, my son John Ann, my wife here, Marie.
I lay in bed reviewing my day's work.
You see, I'm an investigator for the Herkimer Fire Insurance Company, and while thinking
about the fire on Second Avenue, I fell asleep.
Suddenly, I was sitting bold upright, wide awake, with a strange feeling of being alone
in the room.
I looked towards Marie's bed.
It was too dark to see.
I called, Marie?
Marie?
No answer.
I got up, and I walked to her bed.
The quilt was bunched up.
I pulled the covers down.
The bed was empty.
In the bathroom?
No, she wasn't there, and not in Johnny's room either.
Johnny was alone.
Marie wasn't in the apartment.
I put on the light.
I looked at my watch.
It was two in the morning.
I got dressed, walked out, rang for the elevator.
It was nothing.
Of course, it was nothing important, but my heart kept hammering away.
Oh, morning, Mr. Jordan.
Kind of late for you.
Yes, yes.
Good morning, Steve.
Did you see my wife go downstairs?
Yeah, Mr. Jordan, about a half an hour ago, I see.
Oh.
Oh, yes.
Yes, of course.
Did you see which way she went?
Yeah, sure.
She went towards Third Avenue.
Said she was going to the-
Going to the drug store, I guess.
Yeah, that's right.
I mean, it's over on 96th Street, open all night, you know.
Oh, thanks.
Well, that was it.
She went to the drug store.
I was worried over nothing at all.
I didn't know what to do quite.
I didn't want to follow her, but the elevator boy was watching me, so I strolled easily
along toward Third Avenue.
I stood on the deserted dark corner and looked up and down the street, and I saw her coming.
She was walking toward me briskly.
Harry, what are you doing here?
Well, I got up and saw you were gone.
I couldn't sleep.
I had a dreadful headache, so I decided to go down for some aspirin.
Yeah.
Oh, yeah, of course.
The drug store on 96th Street, but you were coming from 98th Street.
I took a little walk, thought some fresh air would do me some good.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, it's a nice night.
I've only been gone about 10 minutes.
Well, Steve said you were gone about a half an hour.
I was only 10 minutes.
What time is it now?
2.35.
I've been out for about 15 minutes.
Well, it's more than that.
It was 15 minutes, no more than that.
Well, yeah.
Yeah, I guess so.
Well, everything seemed all right, but still I felt something was wrong.
We got into our apartment and we both went to bed.
For a minute or so, we said nothing.
Listen.
A fire.
A fire.
Yeah, yeah, not far.
Over east a couple of blocks.
By the river, I'd say.
That's my district.
A fire.
Hello.
Hello, Harry.
Sorry to wake you in the middle of the night, but there's a bad one over near you.
Between second and third.
Maybe a total loss.
Between second and third, Mr. Parmiter?
On apartment building.
Yeah.
98th Street.
340 East 98.
I called you because I'd like you to go there direct first thing in the morning instead
of coming to the office.
Okay, I'll meet you there.
Okay, Mr. Parmiter, good night.
A fire on 98th Street.
Yeah.
Yeah.
I couldn't see Marie in the dark, but I knew.
I knew she was staring at me.
I was very tired.
Good night, Marie.
Good night, Harry.
For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you a star keen and win with Kathy Lewis in The
Night Reveals by Cornell Woolrich.
Roma Wines presentation tonight in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Between the acts of Suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.
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Remember, that's Roma, R-O-M-A, Roma, America's favorite wine.
And now Roma wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage Keenan Wynne as Harry Jordan and
Kathy Lewis as his wife Marie in The Night Reveals, a tale well calculated to keep you
in suspense.
Go on, Mr. Jordan.
Well, gentlemen, the next morning I went over to 98th Street to inspect the remains of number
340 and to see if there was evidence of anything suspicious about the origin of the fire.
And Mr. Parmiter was there.
There it is.
Got it.
You're paying off on this one all right?
Yeah, completely burned out.
Anyone hurt?
A few.
No one dead.
Lucky they just installed the new fire escapes.
Just the walls left.
Fire must have been quite a sight in the height of its glory.
Yeah, quite a sight.
You say those walls look pretty bad.
Might collapse most any time.
Oh, the building will have to be razed.
That fire did a good job.
Oh, there's the commissioner.
Hello, Parmiter.
Jordan?
How are you, morale?
No, anything about the fire, commissioner?
No, not a thing.
Well, we'll have a look.
I wouldn't go in there, Jordan.
Those walls...
I'm afraid I'd scare myself.
Maybe you better not go inside, Harry.
Now, don't worry about me.
I know fires as well as anyone.
You stay outside, Mr. Parmiter.
I'm going in.
I walked gingerly into the blackened, ruined hallway in ashes up to my ankles until I reached
the remains of the stairway.
Underneath were several baby carriages, just twisted pieces of metal.
Burning fragment of something fell nearby.
Come on back, Jordan.
I'm all right.
I poked around near the carriages, sifting through the fine, clean ashes.
Something caught my eye.
A glob of yellow metal.
I picked it up and I worked my way out.
Ah, she's burned through, isn't she?
Yeah, cleaned through.
Nothing left of her.
Did you find anything, Harry?
Oh, nothing much.
Fire started in the hallway all right.
Cellar's untouched.
Firework's its way up.
What's that in your hand?
Oh, that?
Oh, it's just a piece of metal I found.
Here.
I just picked it up for my kid.
He likes shiny things.
What do you think, Commissioner?
Oh, probably one of those gadgets they have on baby carriages.
Yeah, I guess you're right.
Yeah.
It isn't anything.
But it was something.
I had run my fingernail across this glob of metal.
It looked like gold.
I would examine it in detail at home.
Hello, Johnny.
How are you, Johnny?
Just, Mama says I was bad today.
Harry, you're home early.
Yeah, yeah, I got sooner.
I got through sooner than I expected.
What is it?
What is it, Harry?
Your locket.
You're not wearing it.
You never had it off before.
My locket?
What?
Why, don't you remember?
Daddy, can I go over to see Davey Taylor for a minute?
Yes, yes, Johnny.
Go ahead.
All right.
Gee, thanks, Daddy.
He shouldn't have done that, Harry.
I didn't want him to go.
He hasn't had his dinner.
Never mind, Johnny.
What did you say happened to the locket?
Why, I gave it to you.
To me?
Well, I put it in your pocket to have it fixed.
The catch was loose.
I don't remember.
I put it in your pocket, Harry.
I forgot to mention it to you.
I wanted you to take it to the jeweler's, get the catch fixed.
I just put it in your coat pocket while you were shaving.
When?
Yesterday.
Yes, yesterday morning.
Well, then it should be in my pocket now.
I wore this suit yesterday, too.
Nothing in my pockets, Marie.
Well...
Yes, Harry?
Is... is anything wrong with you?
I'm perfectly all right.
There's not a thing wrong with me.
Well, you look worried, as if you had something on your mind.
Oh, it's nothing.
I've just been having a headache.
Maybe you ought to see a doctor.
No, it really doesn't amount to much.
Well, I think I'll take another look for the locket.
Uh, which suit did you say you put it in?
Your blue suit, I think.
Maybe it was the gray, though.
I...
I couldn't make it out.
What had she done with the locket?
Had she pawned it?
Had she given it away?
And then I remembered something.
I went into the bathroom and locked the door.
I looked at this shapeless little glob of yellow metal.
I rubbed the blackened spots away until all of it was gleaming.
I took a nail file out of the medicine chest and began to file it.
I kept filing until I had enlarged the crack to the full length of the piece of gold.
Then I slipped the nail file inside and pried.
And pried it open.
Tiny fragments of glass, and then...
Then I saw a piece of scorched paper.
It was a photograph.
A picture of my son, Johnny.
This glob of metal was my wife's locket.
I put the locket and the picture in my pocket and walked out.
All right now.
Now what's the largest continent in the world?
I know it's...
It's...
It's Asia.
Mm-hmm.
And the next largest?
That's easy.
Africa.
Full of jungle.
That's where Tarzan lives.
Isn't it time for Johnny to be in bed?
Yes.
I had an idea it was so late.
You run along to your room, Johnny.
I'll be in in a minute.
All right, Mother.
Good night, Dad.
Good night, Johnny.
Sleep well.
He's...
He's getting along very well in school.
Except for arithmetic.
Seems to be having a little trouble.
Johnny will be all right.
Yes.
Johnny will be all right.
I know he'll be all right.
I watched her.
She seemed very uneasy.
I walked over to my pipe rack where I kept several books of matches in a jar.
But there weren't any there.
All this time I knew she was watching me.
Watching me closely.
I looked behind the rack.
There wasn't a match around.
What the devil happened to all my matches?
I have a match.
Here.
Here.
Let me light it for you.
Did you take the matches out of the jar, Marie?
Well, I...
Did you?
Yes.
I needed them in the kitchen.
Shall I light your pipe for you?
No.
No.
I'll light it myself.
I picked a match out of the booklet.
It was a clean white match with a green head.
I struck it against the side.
The match sputtered up into a yellow flame, fringed on the bottom with blue.
Marie stared at it until I felt the sharp bite of the flame on my thumb.
Would... would you like a cup of tea, Harry?
No.
No, dear, I don't think so.
Marie!
Leave the matches on the table.
I need them.
I'm rather short of matches.
The pilot light isn't working.
Is this the only book of matches in the house?
I'll have to get some tomorrow.
Where... where are you going, Harry?
Get a drink of water?
No, no.
I'll get it for you, Harry.
Never mind, Marie.
I'll get it myself.
I went into the kitchen.
There was a paper bag alongside the gas range.
Matches, all thrown in, helter-skelter.
Books of matches and safety matches all mixed together.
I walked back and sat down in my chair.
Marie, you've been having headaches lately.
I'm just tired.
Nothing serious.
Well, how would you like to go away for a few days?
You know, take a vacation.
I'll get a maid to take care of Johnny and Mia.
It'll do you a lot of good.
No, no, I don't need a vacation.
There's nothing wrong with me, but, Harry, there is...
Yes?
There... there's... there's nothing the matter with...
You were about to say something else.
I've got to go into Johnny's room and see that he's covered.
He always throws the covers off.
I sat there, looking at the door, and then I glanced about the room.
There was the pack of matches lying open on the table.
I closed the cover, and my eye caught her purse lying nearby.
It was bulging.
Harry!
Oh, what's the matter?
My... my purse.
Yeah.
Yes, your purse.
Here, look.
See the handle's loose, and it's full of matches, a dozen books of them, and these newspaper
clippings.
Give it back to me.
Why are you saving these clippings?
Why do you carry matches with you?
I bought the matches in a store a dozen for five cents.
And these clippings, fire on 112th Street causes severe damage, and these others.
Why are you saving these clippings, Marie?
There's nothing wrong in that.
I'm... I'm interested.
I'm interested in your work.
I intend to keep a file on fires.
It will help you in your work.
That's very considerate, Marie.
Oh, Harry, you're so good.
Why should this have to happen to us?
As far as midnight, I went to bed.
Marie did not follow me.
I... I lay in the semi-darkness, wide awake, trying to think what I should do.
I couldn't collect my thoughts.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could see the flame of the match, yellow and blue, crawling
along the matchstick.
Here, drink this, Harry.
It will help you sleep.
What is it?
It's cocoa.
It's very good for you.
I'm not the one that's having trouble falling asleep.
We both couldn't sleep last night.
I'm taking some of this myself as soon as I go to bed.
All right.
Leave it on the nightstand.
You'll be sure to drink it while it's hot.
Yes, Marie, I will.
Good night, darling.
Good night, Marie.
Cocoa.
And then suddenly, I knew.
I looked around quickly for something to pour it in.
It was the radiator pan.
It was empty.
I poured the cup of liquid into it.
And then I laid back and waited, waited for her next move.
About a half an hour later, I heard the door open softly, and Marie tiptoed toward my bed.
Harry?
Harry?
Are you asleep?
I didn't answer.
Just kept breathing evenly.
She hovered for a moment over me, and then she tiptoed out, carefully closing the door
and then she went back to sleep.
I didn't know what to do.
I was so scared.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't know what to do.
I was so scared that I went home and went through a room, and I saw Marie carefully
closing the door behind her.
I dashed out of bed and hurried into my clothes.
Quickly, I poured the liquid from the pan into a bottle and put the bottle into my pocket.
Then I grabbed my coat and followed her.
I rang for the elevator.
She only a few minutes headway.
I'd catch up with her easily, and then, well, then we'd have a showdown.
Steve looked at me with controlled amazement.
Hello, Steve.
Hello, Mr. Jordan.
My wife went down a moment ago, didn't she?
Yeah, yeah, Mr. Jordan just took her down.
She went toward Third Avenue, didn't she?
I... I think so, sir.
She sort of stopped for a minute then turned toward Third Avenue.
I had to get back to the elevator because you were ringing.
When I reached the corner, I looked up and down Third Avenue.
Then I saw her.
She was walking north.
I crossed to the other side of the street and followed her, keeping it a distance.
At 98th Street, she turned east.
Down the middle of the block.
With the remains of that last night's fire.
She paused in front of the gutted building for a long time.
Just stood there, looking at it.
Then she walked inside.
I waited for a few seconds and then followed her.
It was pitch dark in the burned out hallway.
Ahead of me, I could see the glow of a match.
Then I saw what she was doing.
She was collecting the charred debris near the baby carriages.
How foolish.
There wasn't anything... anything that could burn there now.
She lit another match.
I watched the flame light up her face.
A face so intent upon her work that she didn't hear me approach.
Marie!
Who's there?
It's me, Harry.
Harry, why didn't you...
Come along, Marie. We'd better get out of here.
Police.
I took her hand and without a word she came along.
We walked home in complete silence. We both knew.
When we came to our apartment house, I stopped and rang for the elevator.
In the light of the hallway, I could see her face.
My wife's face.
Ashy gray.
Her eyes bright and painful.
You run upstairs, Marie. I'll be along in a minute.
Harry, where are you going?
I'll be right back.
Please, Harry, don't... don't do anything.
You run along, Marie.
You're not going to...
No, no, I'm only going to the drugstore to get something.
I'll be back in a few minutes.
I came home a half an hour later. She was waiting for me.
Did... did you do it, Harry?
Harry, please tell me I've got to know.
I had the cocoa you gave me analyzed.
I'm sorry, I had to do it. Don't you see? I couldn't help it.
It was very easy for the druggist, especially when I told him what I thought was in it.
That's sodium stuff that makes you sleep through an earthquake.
Please try to understand, Harry. You must understand.
Is the kid asleep?
Yes, Johnny's all right.
Well, I... I was sorry for Marie.
She looked so haggard and worn. It wasn't her fault.
I was sorry for myself. My head was roaring.
I wasn't feeling too well. I kept seeing sparks in front of my eyes.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Let's go to bed, Harry.
Marie, we can do something.
Let's burn up every match, every match in the house.
We'll never bring another match in here.
No, no, Harry, we can't do that.
You don't want to?
No, Harry, not now.
See? This is the first book.
It's turning black. We'll do it with every book of matches.
It's no use. It's no use, Harry.
Strange, isn't it, that this should happen to me?
Me, a fire inspector?
Oh, that's funny.
Give me the matches, Marie. All the matches.
No, I can't do that. I won't.
Give them to me.
Please, please don't. Please don't take them.
I'll do anything you want, anything.
Where did you hide them? Tell me, where are they?
Inside the range behind the paper bag.
I dropped her hand and she sank to the floor in a huddle, weeping.
Then I went into the kitchen and I got all the matches.
Please, please, Harry, don't burn them up.
By now my anger was cooling off.
Look, Marie, look up.
See? I light each book of matches one at a time until they're all gone up in smoke.
The yellow flame licked its way down the matches.
The cover caught fire and blackened.
I watched her look at the flame with dazed eyes.
Listen, listen, Harry, do you hear?
It's just someone in the hall.
It's more than someone. Something's happened.
Something has happened.
I'll take a look.
The house is on fire.
Yes, yes, Marie, wake up Johnny.
Johnny, Johnny.
We'll have to hurry. The flames are coming up the stairs.
There's an upward draft.
What's the matter?
The house is on fire. The house is on fire. We've got to get out.
It's too late to go down. We'll have to go up through the room.
Oh, I've hurt my leg.
Mother, wait for mother.
She'll come along.
No, no, I want to wait for mother.
It's all right, Johnny. Go along with daddy. I'll follow you.
No, I won't go. I won't go.
Hold on to my arm, Marie. Hold on.
Come on. Give me your hand, Johnny.
Now, don't be scared. The fire won't hurt you.
It won't hurt you at all. It'll save your life.
We made our way upstairs very slowly because of Marie's sprained ankle.
Finally, we got to the roof.
There were some firemen on the next roof about 10 feet separated the two buildings.
Don't get panicky. We'll get you off safely.
We're going to have to jump across, daddy. Mother won't be able to jump.
It's all right, Johnny. Don't be scared.
Putting a board across the two roofs, we'll just walk across.
All right, now. One at a time.
Put a rope around you and come across.
Johnny, you go first. But don't be afraid, dear.
The rope will hold you in case you slip.
Mother, you've got to go first.
I'll go right after you, Johnny.
You promise.
Go ahead, Johnny. Mother will follow you.
No, don't turn around. Keep walking.
That's it.
All right, the kid's safe. Now you, lady.
Oh, be careful. A board.
The board slipped.
Hey, honey, one of you guys, get another board.
It's all right. It's all right. Your mother's going to be all right.
You pushed the board off, Harry. I saw you do it.
No, I didn't, Marie. I didn't.
All right, there it is.
Okay, lady, just tie the rope around you. Don't be afraid.
Don't look down. Ready?
Okay, boys.
There, she's all right.
Now you, mister. All right.
That's right. Tie the rope around you. All set.
Okay.
On the ground, we stood there, the three of us.
Watching the fire.
Sparks were shooting up through the hole where it had been through.
A great flame shot out, stabbing at the sky.
The top of the roof was burning now.
A red flame crawled along, searching out the inflammable spots.
A wooden pole caught fire and blazed up in a long, narrow, curving arc.
The wind was helping it.
And all this time, Marie was shaking, shaking violently.
Not with cold, I pity her.
And then she threw up her hands and shrieked.
Ah!
Oh, no, no, darling, don't.
We can't stand this. We can't go on this way. Police!
Now, don't do it, Marie. There's no need. Not the police.
You don't know what you're saying.
What is it, lady? What is it?
Pay no attention.
No, no, it's no use, Harry.
Officer, officer, these awful fires, they're not accidental.
There's a pyromania, a criminal, I know who it is.
You've got to arrest the person, arrest him, so there won't be any more.
All right, lady, all right. Now, what is this? Who's the pyromania?
The criminal is my husband, Harry Jordan.
This man here, arrest him, officer.
Well, that's about all there is to the story, gentlemen, that I was brought here.
Must have sounded kind of, well, painful for you to hear it all over again, Marie.
No, it was all right, Harry.
I wonder, oh, I got a cigarette, could I?
No, I'll light it for you, Harry.
You don't have to worry. I won't try and keep the matches here.
She's been awful good to me, gentlemen. Take care of her, won't you?
She tried everything to help. She hid the matches so as to keep them from me.
She even tried to give me sleeping pills so I wouldn't, I...
It's all right, Harry.
I'm sorry about the locket, dear.
Must have fallen out of my coat when I was in that building at 98th Street.
I...
It's all right, Harry. You can buy me another one sometime.
You can't blame anybody for liking fires.
It's not their fault.
Fires are beautiful to watch. So bright and clean.
They burn up all the filth and dirt.
And they're magnificent to watch.
Especially the big ones. The way the flames roar and crackle.
Lighting up everything around you.
The beautiful fire. The beautiful fire.
The beautiful fire.
Suspense. Presented by Roma Wines. R-O-M-A.
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Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Keenan Wynn appeared through courtesy of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
Producers of The Postman always rings twice.
Next Thursday, same time, Roma Wines will bring you Nancy Kelly, a star of...
Suspense! Radio's outstanding theater of thrill.
Produced by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.