Now, Roma wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Roma wines present Suspense.
Tonight, Roma wines bring you Mr. Hume Cronin, who is currently being seen in the Metro Golden
Mayor production, The Green Years, as star of Too Many Smiths, 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 Hume Cronin in a remarkable tale of Suspense.
Right in here, Doc.
What happened, Sergeant Hurley?
I picked this guy up in a depot. I've been looking for him for three days. He's standing
in a crowd screaming somebody made a sucker out of him. Getting violent.
Well, I better have a look at him.
All right now, no one's going to hurt you.
She made a sucker out of me.
There he goes again.
Who made a sucker out of you?
Yeah, she made a sucker out of me.
Hand me my bag.
Here. What are you going to do, Doc?
Give him something to quiet him down.
You think he's pulling an act?
He's trying to tell. Maybe temporary insanity. Pull up his sleeve.
Come on, you. Easy. Come on.
She made a sucker out of me.
Who did? Who made a sucker out of you?
Fate. It was fate, I tell you. Yeah. Yeah, that was a gag.
This guy's crazy.
Maybe. That's far enough. Hold him.
Will that stuff put him to sleep?
Should.
How long will he be under?
About 10 hours.
She ran out on me. She left me flat.
He's starting to work.
Very fast reaction.
I'll come back and question him later.
What's he in for?
Murder.
Who'd he kill?
Some cheap confidence mug, but the motive we haven't got.
You see, Wallingford's my name. Charles Richard Wallingford. Yeah.
Don't call me Smith.
Hey, get that. He's talking in his sleep.
Sometimes they do under the influence of a sedative.
Wallingford.
Especially when they have something in their conscience they want to get rid of.
I'd better take notes. And you stay here as a witness, Doc.
Yeah. That's me. Charles Richard Wallingford.
But don't let that fancy moniker fool you. No, sir. I'm no banker or executive.
I'm just a guy who worked in a porter in a big office building downtown.
But I don't want you to think I didn't have any ambition. No.
I know that someday I'd get my break and when I did there was nothing going to stop me from going places.
No, sir. Not a thing.
Now, take that night for instance. It was six o'clock and most of the offices were emptying out.
I had my broom and mop and was ready to start cleaning the office of PJ Rogers.
PJ. He's the president of the Apex advertising agency.
I always like to start with the top boys.
I looked around PJ's office.
Soft, easy chairs. Lots of buttons to push to make people jump.
Yeah, this would be the life.
Well, I started my broom going. I swept around and I bent down to pick up the waste basket.
Piece of torn paper caught my eye.
Now, get this. I don't know whether it was fate or just plain curiosity, but I read what was written on it.
It was a memorandum from the desk of S.M. Parry to PJ Rogers and it said,
The judges have decided that the winner of the toothpaste contest is Pat Smith of Boston.
I knew that that was the century toothpaste contest that just ended last week.
Twenty-five thousand smackeroes to the winner.
And this guy, Pat Smith of Boston, won it.
Some guys have all the luck. Just for writing a slogan.
Twenty-five thousand dollars and this guy doesn't even know he won it yet.
Yeah, he don't even know he won it.
But I do.
I got what's called an inspiration.
According to the radio, the winner won't be announced until the 15th of this month.
Today's only the 12th.
Charlie, my boy. Charlie, my boy, I say to myself.
When fate decides to hand you a break, who are you to turn it down?
I stalled around until I made sure everyone had left the agency.
Then I went for the filing cabinets that had the entries. They were listed from A to Z.
I found the names and began with S and I started looking for Pat Smith from Boston.
There were over 200 Smiths. Abe Smith, Betty Smith, Carl Smith.
I went through them until I came to Olly Smith.
And the next one was Pat Smith of 500 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, Massachusetts.
I copied the address and the slogan.
Brother to me, that slogan sure sounded corny.
But who am I to judge $25,000?
I went downstairs to the locker room, I changed my clothes, I beat it over to Grand Central,
and I caught the midnight to Boston.
Front, boy.
500 Commonwealth Avenue is a big hotel with a sign reading, for men only.
I walked up to the desk.
May I help you, sir?
Yeah.
You have Mr. Pat Smith staying here?
Pat Smith, now let me see, George Smith, Harry Smith, ah, Pat Smith.
Yes, sir, room 1133.
1133, thanks.
Oh, say, mister, look, we have...
The clerk started to yell something after me.
The elevator door closed and I didn't wait.
Yeah, I wish I had, but I didn't.
Hello.
My name's Wallingford, Charlie Wallingford.
I'd like to talk to you.
What about?
About $25,000.
Is this a joke?
That kind of money isn't funny, mister.
Come on in.
Thanks.
I'll just move my clothes and you can sit down.
Yeah, thanks, thanks a lot.
Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Wallingford?
Mr. Smith, how would you like to make $12,500?
That's a lot of money.
It sure is.
What do I have to do?
You wanted the Century Toothpaste Contest, didn't you?
The slogan contest?
Yeah, how'd you know?
I worked for the people that run the contest.
I see.
And I can fix it so that you can win first prize.
I'm beginning to understand.
Good.
And I don't have to do any explaining.
It isn't exactly legal, is it?
Well, maybe not.
I thought all these contests were running the up and up.
They are.
This happens to be an unusual circumstance.
I see.
If somebody had to win, it might as well be you.
Tell me, why of all the contestants did you happen to pick me?
Oh, I don't know.
Just chalking up the fate.
And suppose I don't agree to your proposition?
Then I'll find somebody else who will.
Simple as that?
Yeah.
All right.
What's the deal, Mr. Wallingford?
Just plain Charlie to all my business friends.
Shake.
Yeah.
Well, I suppose you're busy.
Not at all.
Don't you have some kind of job you got to get to?
No.
That's why I came to Boston.
Oh.
How long you been here?
Two days.
Wait a minute.
How come your entry had this address?
Oh, I reserved this room a month ago.
I've been using it as my mailing address.
Oh, I see.
Where you from, Pat?
Nowhere in particular.
Just where my business takes me.
You don't say.
Got any family?
No.
Not a soul.
Maybe you have friends here in Boston.
Not a one.
Gee, that's too bad.
Why the look?
Oh, nothing.
I was just thinking.
About the money?
Right the first time.
You know, it's too bad our paths didn't cross before.
Why's that?
I think we'd have made a good team.
What's your racket?
Stocks and bonds.
Sell them?
Uh-huh.
Legitimate?
What do you think?
I don't.
Say, isn't contests out of your alley?
That's just a hobby.
But sometimes they pay off, huh?
Well, come on, let's blow this place.
We'll really celebrate our little deal.
Sure, anything you say.
I knew I had this guy figured from the second I laid eyes on him.
Just a small-time confidence mug.
And I knew he wasn't going to play 50-50 with me.
No, sir.
The minute he got his hands in that dough, I'd have to sing for my half.
So I decided to take it all.
Yeah.
I could be Pat Smith for a couple of days.
And just so there wouldn't be too many Smiths,
I'd fix this one up with a one-way ticket.
We went to a place for coffee and sandwiches.
I had some of my sleeping pills with me,
and by the time we got to the apple pie, he was feeling them.
What's wrong with me?
What's the matter?
My head.
Going around the top.
Oh, come on, come on, give me your arm.
Yeah.
Ah, here we are.
The air will straighten you out.
I just want to lay down.
You will.
In a little while.
Where we going?
Just walking.
I want to lay down.
Oh, hey, hey, take it easy.
Hey, easy.
Stand up.
Hey, why are we walking on this dock?
Just to get you some air.
Bring you around.
All right, all right.
Hey there.
Yeah?
What's wrong, mister?
Well, nothing, officer.
My friend here isn't feeling very good.
Oh, yeah?
Let me have a look at him.
Sure.
Hey, hey, wake up.
I just want to lay down.
Okay, mister.
I just want to check up.
I don't know what the funny things happen around here tonight.
Boy, you can't be too careful.
No, sir.
Good night, officer.
Good night.
I waited until the cop disappeared under the fog.
Smith had passed completely out of the picture.
Dragged him down to the end of the dock.
I looked around me and I found a piece of lead pipe and I...
And that was over.
I stripped off his clothes and I changed with them.
I stuck the pipe under his belt and I pushed him into the water.
I watched his body sink.
Then I left the dock.
I went back to the hotel and I went up to Smith's room and...
After a while, I went to sleep.
Yeah?
Mr. Smith?
Mr. Pat Smith?
Speaking.
Well, there's a young lady waiting for you.
Waiting for me?
Yes, sir.
She says she's your fiancée.
For Suspense, Romowinds are bringing you as star Hume Cronin
in Too Many Smiths by Arthur L. Gray.
Romowinds presentation tonight in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Between the acts of Suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Romowinds.
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So, insist on Roma, R-O-M-A, Romowinds, enjoyed by more Americans than any other wine.
And now, Romowinds bring back to our Hollywood sound stage, Hume Cronin and Too Many Smiths, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Hello? Hello? Hello?
I lay there, paralyzed with that phone in my hand.
Hello? Hello? Mr. Smith? Did you hear me, sir? Your fiance.
My fiance?
Yes, sir.
Oh, yeah, okay. I'll be right down.
She'll be waiting for you in the reception room.
This didn't jive. Smith said he didn't know anybody in Boston.
I started to break out in a sweat. I had to go down and face her. Trying to avoid it would make things look suspicious.
I took my time dressing, but my mind was going like a machine gun. But it was no use. There was nothing I could do but to face her and try and bluff my way.
Pardon me, miss. Are you looking for Pat Smith?
Yes.
Well, I'm Pat Smith.
Oh, I'm afraid there must be some mistake.
I guess there is.
Yes, the Mr. Smith I'm looking for is my fiance.
You sure he's registered in this hotel?
I am very sure.
Well...
Oh, how foolish of me. There must be two Pat Smiths here. You and my fiance.
Yeah, of course. Yeah. I never thought of that.
It's such a big hotel. I'll ask the clerk.
Yeah, do that.
Goodbye, Mr. Smith. I'm awfully sorry. I disturbed you.
But that's okay. Two Pat Smiths. That was something I hadn't counted on.
I watched her cross the lobby to the desk. She spoke to the clerk. He smiled and picked up the phone. The dame sat down and waited.
In a few minutes, a middle-aged guy walks up to the desk and the clerk pointed out this dame to him.
I took a good look at this other Pat Smith and I beat it into the elevator and went upstairs to my room.
I headed for the desk and I started going through the late Pat Smith's things.
I found his papers and then I saw what I was looking for. A copy of the slogan he'd written.
Oh, brother, I breathed a sigh of relief.
It was the same as the one I'd copied from the agency's files.
Fate is sure sticking closer to me than a suspicious wife.
That stupid clerk could have sent me to the wrong Smith and if I'd knocked him off, I really would have been in a jam.
I didn't sleep at all good that night.
Around 8 a.m. I headed for the drugstore in the lobby. My head was buzzing. I wanted a cup of black coffee.
As I was drinking my second cup, I glanced in the mirror in front of me and I saw the second Pat Smith come in.
I turned around to watch him buy some stuff at the counter.
Razor blades, shaving cream, soap and a large tube of Century toothpaste.
Century toothpaste.
It was only then it began to creep into my mind.
Maybe this Pat Smith had entered the contest also.
And if so, maybe he was the guy that was going to collect the 25 grand.
Maybe I'd been barking up the wrong tree.
Sick, weak, empty feeling settled in my insides.
I put a quarter on the counter and I followed Smith into the lobby.
I beg your pardon.
Yes?
Isn't your name Smith? Pat Smith?
Yes, it is.
Funny thing, but that's my name also.
Oh yes, yes, I heard there was another Pat Smith staying here.
You mind if I sit down?
No, no, go right ahead.
Thanks.
Kind of funny two Pat Smiths living under the same roof.
Oh, I don't know, Smith's a very common name.
Yeah, yeah, you're right there.
You know, that's how I met your girlfriend.
Uh, my girlfriend?
Yeah, the tall blonde, good looking dame.
Oh yes, yes, I remember. But wasn't she looking for you?
I don't get you.
Well, the clerk telephoned me in my room that she was waiting downstairs and when I met her it seems that I wasn't the Pat Smith she was looking for.
Darn it.
You what?
No, so naturally I assumed it was you.
There couldn't be a third Pat Smith here.
Well hardly. I spoke to the clerk about it and he checked the register.
Maybe she had the wrong hotel.
Well, I doubt that very much because I've seen her about the lobby the past few days.
You have?
Mm-hmm. Why, what's wrong?
Oh nothing, nothing, I'm just thinking. Yeah.
I see you're doing a crossword puzzle.
Yes, are you interested in puzzles?
Sometimes. I like contests better. You know, the kind they have on the radio?
Uh-huh.
You ever enter one of those?
Well, as a matter of fact I have.
How about the Century Toothface contest?
Oh, of course, $25,000. That's quite a big prize to shoot for.
Yeah, it is. What kind of slogan did you write?
Well, I think it's pretty good. I got a copy right here in my pocket. Would you care to read it?
Sure would.
Let me see now where it is.
Oh, here it is. I don't think it'll win first prize, but it might win one of the lesser ones.
Well, what do you think Pat?
Yeah, that's pretty good. Much better than the one a certain party I knew wrote.
Didn't take no book credit to see that the slogan this Smith wrote was the better of the two.
I was a fool. If I'd looked through the files at the agency more carefully, I'd have seen that there were two Smiths and which Smith won the dough.
I was in a tough spot. Tonight at 10 they were going to announce the winner.
I had just six hours to figure out an angle or lose 25 grand.
Hello.
Hello, Mr. Smith.
Who's this?
Mr. Smith's fiance. Remember?
Yeah, I remember. What do you want?
I think you and I better have a little talk.
What about?
About my fiance.
Where are you?
In the lounge.
I'll be right down.
Well, hello.
Sit down, won't you?
Thanks. Okay, what's on your mind?
You.
Me? Gee, I'm flattered.
You needn't be.
Okay. What about me? It's so interesting.
Why you killed Pat Smith.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Let's not be stubborn about this, Mr. Wallingford.
Must I repeat my question?
No. Who are you?
You already know that.
What's your name?
Betty.
Betty what?
I'm asking the questions.
How do you know he's dead?
It's in the evening papers.
Let me see that.
Here.
Police discover body in Charles River.
First thought to be Charles Wallingford, but fingerprints taken from the dead man proved his identity to be Pat Smith,
the small-time confidence man wanted by the police in three states.
The police are looking for Wallingford.
New York City police have discovered that Wallingford's been missing from his rooming house for the past five days.
You see how I know.
Where do you fit?
I was supposed to meet Smith here. We had a little job planned.
Oh, I see.
And you went and spoiled it. Why?
Come on, come on. Start talking.
If I don't like the tone of your conversation, maybe the police will.
Well, I couldn't see any way out but to tell her the whole story.
I couldn't bluff.
I was scared and she knew it.
She didn't say anything while I was talking. She just sits and stares at me.
I always told Pat those contests would be the death of him.
Well, that's how it is.
This other guy will collect all the dough.
You giving up so easily?
You have any ideas?
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
I was a fool to get mixed up in this in the first place.
Are you sure this Smith is going to win?
It can't be anyone else.
Ah, you've gone so far. Why not take another step?
What do you mean?
I met this other Smith just as I met you.
Yeah, I know that.
And from the way his eyes lit up I could see he was kind of sorry I wasn't his fiance.
So?
I don't think Mr. Smith would mind very much taking a walk with me down by the river.
Maybe holding hands?
I see what you mean.
Just the way you did the other job.
Well, I don't know.
You scared?
No, no, no. I'm game.
Good.
Look, you get him on that dock. I'll take over from there.
Don't worry, don't worry. He'll be there.
Yeah.
By the time the cops fish him out of the river we'll have the money and plenty of distance.
You mean we go together?
What's the matter? Don't I appeal to you?
Oh, sure, sure.
Wait here. I'm going to phone him and cast out the bait.
Okay. Here's hoping he bites.
Don't worry, he will.
I watched her walk out of the lounge to the phone booth across the lobby.
Every eye on the joint on her.
I knew Smith didn't have a chance.
And if I hung around her I wouldn't either.
Oh, she was murder that dame.
After this job was over I was heading in the opposite direction.
I could see her talking and when she hung up I could tell by the expression on her face that Smith was a cooked turkey.
He'll be down in five minutes. You better beat it.
Okay, baby. You're carrying the ball from now on.
See you on the dock.
I glanced back at the table and she was sitting there, calmly powdering her nose for the kill.
Then fate stepped in again. I don't know why, but it suddenly hit me that maybe she was giving me the double cross.
After all, how long do I know the dame?
I went back into the lounge through the street entrance and I managed to sneak into a booth behind the one she was sitting in.
In a few minutes Smith came in through the lobby entrance and walked over to her.
Well, good evening. I came down as quickly as I could.
So I see. I suppose my phone call surprised you.
Oh, yes, yes indeed.
I'll come to the point, Mr. Smith.
Somebody is going to murder you.
What?
Please keep your voice down.
Oh, I'm sorry, but in heaven's name, why would anyone want to murder me?
For $25,000.
I don't have that much money.
You will.
Look, I don't understand.
The Century Toothpaste Contest.
You hit the jackpot.
How do you know? The winner won't be announced until 10 tonight.
I have a way of knowing these things.
I'm going to call the police.
Come down, Mr. Smith. I've got a better idea.
She lowered her voice, but by straining I got wind of what she was pulling.
That was clear.
She wanted the money, but without a murder rap.
Then she was going to tip off the police about me,
which would give her clear salin' with Smith in the dough.
Yeah, she was clever, all right.
But you know, it was funny. It didn't burn me up.
I wasn't even sore.
I was just tired and scared. I wanted to get away.
Anywhere, so long as it was far from Boston.
I had a few dollars left, so I beat it.
I went to the railroad depot.
My train didn't leave for an hour, so I walked around.
I bought a paper.
I felt like a punch-drunk fighter.
I was licked, and I knew it.
Faded let me down, all right. I was through.
While I was standing in the crowd, waiting for the gate to open,
when I saw it.
Right there on the front page, I saw it.
I started to laugh.
Yeah, I... I couldn't stop.
I couldn't stop.
There it was, right there on the front page.
I just broke up a...
Hey, officer! Hey, officer!
I was tired.
What's wrong with this man?
You. What's the matter with you, buddy?
Hey. Hey.
You're Charles Wallingford, alias Pat Smith.
You're wanted for murder.
What a story.
Starts out as a simple swindle and winds up murder.
Yeah, but a story still doesn't tell me what I want to know.
What's that, Doc?
What cause for his temporary insanity?
Oh, it doesn't at that.
Hey, that newspaper.
He was reading...
Where is it? On the first page.
Yeah, here.
Take a look at this.
The winner of the $25,000 Century Toothpaste Contest was announced last night.
The lucky winner was...
Was Miss Pat Smith,
of the little town of Boston, Georgia.
Suspense!
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as 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.