And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world, Roma Wines
presents...
Suspense!
Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Miss Susan Hayward as star of Dame Fortune, 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 in entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of
everyday meals.
Yes, right now, a glass full would be very pleasant as Roma Wines bring you Susan Hayward
in a remarkable tale of...
Suspense!
Nobody's believed this so far, but maybe someday somebody will.
Not that it really matters, it's just something to do to pass the time while I'm waiting.
It was our fifth anniversary and we were having a party, and as usual, partly because a ham
is always a ham no matter how long they've been out of the business, and partly because
it's really easier to go ahead and do it than to spend your whole evening refusing.
I was supplying the entertainment.
But each time I do, just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin, cause I've got
you under my skin, cause I've got you under my skin.
It's not everybody you know, the hostess can entertain, is it?
Certainly, certainly.
Why do you think I married her?
Broadway's loss was Nicholson's gain.
Oh, darling, for someone who's been married to me for five whole years, you still say some
awfully nice things.
Well why not, darling?
I say, Jean, seeing you'll be so nice to come home to, were you in that show, what was the
name of it?
Oh, no dear, Frank had already snatched me from my career by that time.
Excuse me, Jean darling, you wanted on a phone?
Phone?
At this hour?
Who is it?
I don't know dear, it's a man, probably one of your old admirers.
Oh, don't be silly, all my old admirers gave up ages ago.
All right, I'll take your word for it, my sweet, but now you better go see who it is.
All right, don't anybody go away, I'll be right back.
All right, now I'll buy you a drink.
Hello?
Hello, Jean.
Who's this?
Perhaps I should say Mrs. Nicholson.
You're not Jean Marley anymore, are you?
Who is this?
Is there something I can do for you?
I'm rather busy right now.
I was afraid you might forget me.
I've been away such a long time.
This is Charlie.
Charlie?
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie Prescott, or the San Quentin Prescotts.
You remember now, don't you?
You're still there, aren't you Jean?
Yes, I'm still here.
You're surprised?
So you're back, huh?
Out is what we call it sweetheart, only yesterday.
And I want to see you.
Oh no Charlie, that's all over.
You mean you don't want to see me?
Save it Charlie.
I suppose I knew all along this would happen someday.
When let be?
The sooner the better.
How about tomorrow?
I can't tomorrow.
Make it Wednesday in the afternoon.
Say three o'clock?
Same old place?
No, not there.
All right.
What about the Shangri-La?
All right.
You'll be sure and be there, won't you sweetheart?
Because if you're not, I'm going to feel very bad.
I'll be there.
Three o'clock then, sweetheart.
Three o'clock.
Who was it darling?
It was Charlie.
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie Prescott.
Charlie, darling, anyone I know?
No, just an old friend.
Well, why didn't you ask him over?
Well, he was just passing through town and wanted to say hello.
That's all.
Well, maybe some other time.
Yes, some other time.
Don't let anybody tell you that prison doesn't change people.
It does.
And Charlie had had seven years of it.
It's not just the prison palette they always tell you about or extra dividends in gray
hair. It's something else, an expression in the eyes. And more than that, something I
didn't figure out until quite a while later.
I'll say you're looking great, sweetheart.
Let's cut out the compliments, Charlie. You don't mean them and neither do I.
Now wait a minute, sweetheart. Don't get me wrong. You don't think I'm sore about anything.
Like say, because you're married. You don't think that now, do you?
Why should you be? You knew I wasn't going to wait around for you. It was never that
serious between us.
Yeah, that's what I'm saying. Why, I'm tickled pink you married the guy. Particularly since
I hear he's really in the dough, huh? But good.
The trouble with you blackmailers is...
Oh, that's a nasty word, sweetheart.
The trouble with you blackmailers is that you think all a woman with a wealthy husband has
to do is just run down to the cellar and bring up a basketful anytime she wants to. Well,
it's not like that. He spends the money. I don't.
No joint bank account?
Oh, sure. What do you think happens when all of a sudden two or three hundred a month just
starts disappearing?
I wasn't thinking of hundreds, sweetheart.
Oh, of course not. And the bigger you think, the harder it gets. Don't you see that?
Well, he's got a will, hasn't he?
I suppose so.
Don't stall, sweetheart. You know he has. You know what's in it. It all goes to you,
doesn't it?
Yes. I guess it does.
You know it does.
And you want a cut?
I want half.
Your taxes are deducted or after.
Don't get wise. I did a lot of figuring where I was and I figured you owed me something,
sweetheart. I figured you owed me plenty.
Well, you're going to have a long time to wait for it, darling. I'd say about 30 years
because he's healthy as a horse.
Who said anything about waiting?
You do have big ideas, don't you?
You like it?
You don't really think I'm going to become a party to the murder of my own husband, do
you?
I wouldn't listen to use those words.
You must have gone a little crazy up there, Charlie.
And who said anything about your being a party to it?
Oh, you handle it. I just wait. Is that it?
Well, I know it's not as big a part of the job as you handled the last time, but that's
a general idea. What do you say?
What do you think?
Sweetheart, did you ever stop to figure out what they'd give you if they found out?
I don't know.
I don't know what they'd do, the same as they'd give me. Maybe worse.
Listen, Charlie, suppose I told you I love him.
You? I wouldn't believe you. I wouldn't believe it if he combined the best features of John
D. Rockefeller, Albert Einstein and Clark Gable.
No, I suppose you wouldn't.
Well, that's the way it is, sweetheart. That way or the other. Make up your mind.
Well, it would have to be an accident.
That's okay. It could be an accident.
All right, Charlie. You win.
There's only one way that I know of to deal with blackmail. Agree to the terms first and
find an out afterwards. And that's how I'd plan to play it. I will confess that the murder
of my husband for his estate was a little stiffer price than I'd been prepared for.
But by the time I left, I knew how I was going to play that too. Charlie had never been quite
as smart as he thought he was. That's one reason why he went to prison and I didn't.
That evening after dinner, I went in to see my husband in his study.
Oh, hello, darling.
Frank, there's something I have to tell you.
Well, what is it, darling?
It's pretty serious.
Well, all right. What is it?
Frank, I'm being blackmailed.
What? Blackmailed?
This is going to hurt you, darling. Afterwards, you can do anything you like. But I know that
the only sensible thing and the only decent thing is to tell you the whole story.
Jean, no matter what it is, no matter what, I love you, darling. That's all that really
matters. Do you understand that?
Yes, I do, darling. Frank, a number of years ago, before I knew you, I had some trouble,
bad trouble. I was just a kid and well, I got mixed up with the wrong man. His name
was Charles Prescott. I didn't know how wrong he was until someone got killed. Charlie managed
to convince the jury more or less that it was an accident. His sentence was from 10
to 20 years. He got three years off for good behavior. Frank, he's out of prison now and
he has evidence that I was involved. I was involved much more than ever came out in the
trial and well, that's the story.
Well, that's not so bad, darling. What's his price?
His price is... Oh, Frank.
Oh, there, there, darling. It's all right. It's all right. Now, come on, tell me the
whole thing.
His price is that he plans to murder you and make me give him half of what I inherit.
Good Lord, Jean, the man must be crazy.
That's just it. He is. He's just crazy enough to try it. He's planning some sort of an accident.
Oh, Frank, I'm frightened.
Now, darling, don't you worry a bit. I know just how to handle this.
Oh, Frank, not the police.
No, darling, no. Not the police.
Later the next morning, we were visited by a chunky little man named Sparks from the Continental
Detective Agency. I told him the story, or most of it, and all the time I was talking,
he kept watching my husband. I got the impression he might be a little difficult to deal with.
As it turned out, I wasn't far wrong.
It's a good story, Mr. Nicholson, but it's not right.
Not right? What do you mean?
Well, for instance, why don't you go to the police?
I've told you it's a case of blackmail.
But it's not just a case of blackmail. According to your wife, here's an ex-con with 13 years
still hanging over him out on parole, and he's threatening your life. We can throw him
back in the can just like that.
Look, Mr. Sparks, you don't have to know all my family affairs to handle this case, do
you?
No, but it would help.
Suffice it to say that it's a delicate matter. We can't go to the police.
Then perhaps you'd better tell me just what you do want me to handle.
I want you to locate him and then follow him day and night. Never let him out of your sight.
Eventually, I suppose, he'll try it. To kill you?
Oh, Frank.
Now, Jean, darling, remember you were going to let me handle this?
I know, but...
But don't you see, dear, if we actually catch him in the act, attempted murder, then we
can send him back to prison and nobody would ever believe anything he said.
Must be a very delicate matter.
It is, Mr. Sparks.
Well, you'll hear from me.
Mr. Sparks, suppose he should try to contact me?
You mean you think he'll try to shake you down beforehand anyway, just for luck?
Well, you see, he thinks I've agreed with his plan. The accident.
Hmm. The way we're handling it, there's only one thing to do. Play him along.
I see. Well, is that all the information you need, Mr. Sparks?
If that's all you'll give me, that's all I need.
By Friday night, they'd located Charlie. By Monday morning, they knew more about him than
his own mother.
Frank took the train for San Francisco that night. He wasn't due back until Wednesday morning.
Tuesday afternoon, Charlie called me, as I told him to.
Hello?
Hello, Charlie.
Oh, hello, sweetie.
Oh, hello, sweetheart. Everything in order?
Yes.
You get that, what you said you'd get for me?
Yes, I got it.
I hope you got enough, because what I mean, what is going to be, well, expenses?
Expenses?
Yes. I've got to make contact. You know, I don't let anybody else in, but I'm going
to need a little outside help on one of two things.
Oh, I see.
And these things take time. Maybe quite a while. I'm not stalling, you understand, but you
can't expect action on a thing like this right away.
I think I understand.
It may be two, three weeks, even more. It's got to be laid out right, you know what I
mean?
Mm-hmm.
Well, where can I pick it up? The stuff you got for me.
You can come out here.
Out there?
Yes, this evening, about ten. There'll be no one here.
Listen, I don't think that's so good.
You're not afraid, are you, Charlie?
No, no, but you...
Besides, you ought to see the layout of things. It might give you some angles.
Well, yeah, but...
You remember what we said, how it had to be done?
You mean accident?
That's right.
Sure, sure.
Well, you'll be here at ten, Charlie. I'll have everything ready for you.
I knew then what prisoner had done to Charlie. He'd lost his nerve. Now that he faced it,
murder was too much for him. He'd never go through with it. It would all come down to
one petty shakedown after another, year after year. It was even more obvious now that I'd
have to do what I'd counted on from the beginning. If my husband was to be murdered, he'd have
to be murdered by me.
For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Susan Hayward in Dame Fortune by Max Wilk and
E.R. Merkland. Roma Wines presentation tonight in radio's outstanding theater of thrills,
Suspense.
Between the acts of Suspense, this is Ken Niles for Roma Wines. Next Thursday, ghosts
and goblins will haunt your street. It's Halloween. A good night for grownups to remain safely
inside entertaining a few trusted friends. A good night to serve Roma Wines, so delicious
with snacks or sandwiches. Yes, Roma Wines add friendly companionship to any occasion.
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Roma Wines are better tasting. First, because Roma starts with California's choicest grapes.
Second, because Roma with America's finest winemaking resources guides this luscious
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from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure. Delight your Halloween guests
with better tasting Roma Wines. Tomorrow, ask for Roma. R-O-M-A. Roma Wines, largest
selling wines in America. And now, Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage, Susan
Hayward in Dame Fortune. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. Charlie arrived that
evening in a rented car, right on time. As I opened the door to him, I noticed another
car just putting out its headlights about a quarter of a mile down the hill from our
driveway. That would be Mr. Sparks. Charlie had never seen the house before and he was
impressed but a little nervous. I took him into the drawing room. Hey, quite a layout
you got here, sweetheart. Frank likes to have the best of everything and he can afford it.
Sit down. Well, you know I can't stay but a minute or so. What's the matter with you,
Charlie? You seem jumpy. Oh, me? Why should I be jumpy? I don't know. I'll tell you something,
though. I'll just get... What's the clock? I have had the funny idea somebody was following
me the last couple of days. Who'd want to follow you? That's what I can't figure. I'm
clean with the local dicks and they don't tell you unless they think you're working
on a job. Nobody else would want to tell me. Unless I've been double crossed by somebody.
Like you, sweetheart. But if I double crossed you, you'd see that I was sent to the penitentiary,
wouldn't you, Charlie? I would devote my entire time to it, sweetheart. And that's why I wouldn't
double cross you, isn't it, Charlie? Yeah, I guess you're smart enough to see that, all
right. You got the dough? Yes, I've got it. How much? A thousand dollars. Well... Oh,
I know you'll be around shaking me down for more before you get to business. But that
will hold you for a while, won't it? Sure, sure. Well, I'd better be moving. Where's
the dough? I don't have it here. You don't have it? No, it's in the car. Frank was home
for a while and I didn't want to bring it into the house. He's inclined to be a little
snoopy sometimes. Well, let's get it. You can get it on the way out. It's in the glove
compartment. No, no, wait a minute. I'm not sure I like this. Oh, don't be silly. The
car's in the garage and nobody's around. It's chilly and I just don't want to go out, that's
all. It's in the Cadillac convertible. Yeah. I guess you're in no spot to pull me fast
once at that, are you, sweetheart? Okay. You'll be hearing from me. Yes, Charlie, I'm sure
I will. Through the glass panel by the door, I watched him head for the garage. Somewhere
out there in the darkness, I knew that Mr. Sparks would be watching him too. Then I buzzed
the house phone for Olsen, the chauffeur. He lived over the garage. Olsen speaking. This
is Mrs. Nicholson. I'm sorry to disturb you, Olsen, but I happened to glance out of the
window just now and I thought I saw a man prowling around the garage. A man? Yes. I
suppose it's silly, but would you mind looking out your window and see if you notice anything?
Sure, sure, Mrs. Nicholson. Say, Mrs. Nicholson, that's right, I seen him. He was running away.
You want me to go after him? He was running away? Sure, he's running plenty, but maybe
I can catch him. Oh, no, that's all right. If he was running away, I'm sure he won't
come back. There's nothing you could take out there anyway. If you want, I'd be glad
to. Oh, no. No, that's all right. I'm sorry I bothered you, Olsen. Good night. Good night,
Mrs. Nicholson. I waited almost two hours until I was sure Olsen would be asleep. Then
I went out to the garage myself. I'd taken a course in automobile mechanics during the
war. I hadn't learned much, but I'd learned enough to know what would make a steering
knuckle fall apart after about an hour or two of hard driving. And Frank was driving
down to San Diego the next morning as soon as he got back from San Francisco. And Frank
was a hard driver. Frank left the next morning on schedule. I won't say it was pleasant waiting.
I paced the living room and the hall for almost an hour, but never more than ten steps from
the telephone. Hello? Gene, this is Charlie. I've got to talk to you. I can't talk to
you now. Listen, Gene, I've got to tell you something. I can talk to you now. I began
my pacing again. The phone rang three more times in the next 15 minutes, but I didn't
answer it. Then it stopped. Almost three hours went by. I'd begun to be afraid that one of
those other calls had been the one I was expecting. And then it rang again. Hello? I'd like to
speak to Mrs. Frank Nicholson, please. This is she? Mrs. Nicholson, this is Dr. Whitty
of the La Jolla General Hospital. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs. Nicholson,
but there's been an accident. Your husband. My husband? Oh, is he? Well, it's hard to
tell just yet, Mrs. Nicholson, but I think you'd better come down here. I got out the
sedan and started for La Jolla. I was terribly nervous and depressed. I crept along at no
more than 40 miles an hour, but somehow I got there. They showed me directly to Frank's
room. He was all covered with bandages, but he was sitting up in bed. And with him was
Mr. Sparks. Hello, Gene. Frank, are you... Oh, not too bad. Oh, darling. Put the ribs
in an arm. They thought I had a fractured skull for a while, but I guess I have a pretty
hard head. Well, what happened? Well, something went wrong with the car, Gene. I was going
pretty fast. I'm lucky to be alive, I guess. Charles. Prescott. Frank, I saw a man prowling
around the garage last night. Olsen saw him too. You think Prescott might have tampered
with the car? Oh, Frank, I told you not to go through with this thing. Well, I don't
know. What do you think of that theory, Mr. Sparks? Oh, you remember Mr. Sparks, don't
you, Gene? Of course. It couldn't have been Prescott, Mr. Nicholson. He never got into
the garage. I was right behind him and I guess maybe he heard me. Anyway, he beat it. I understand
you were in the garage last night, Gene. Isn't that correct, Mr. Sparks? We had another man
posted on the grounds. That's what he reports. Of course I was. There was a book in the car
that I wanted. There was a thousand dollars in currency in the glove compartment too.
Yes, I know. I didn't have time to tell you this morning, but he wanted money. I talked
him out of it. Mr. Sparks knew he was at the house. You told me to see him if he... Frank,
you don't think that I... I don't want to think so, Gene. Oh, how could you? How could
you? Well, it's just that steering knuckles don't usually come loose by themselves. That,
that and all the rest of it. Then it must have been an accident, a real accident. Don't
you see that? Oh, Frank, how could you believe that I'd do a thing like that? I love you.
Oh, I know. I've thought and thought and thought everything. Mr. Sparks has told me you're not...
Oh, I can't believe it, Gene. Mr. Sparks, you don't think I could have done anything
like that. You can't. It's just a matter of your beliefs, I guess. Beliefs? What you want
to believe and who you want to believe in. My office will send you a bill, Mr. Nicholson.
Good day. Oh, Frank. Frank, darling. Oh, I'm sorry, Gene. I'm horribly sorry, darling.
It's just that, well, it looks so bad and... Oh, I wanted so much to hear you say you didn't.
Oh, I didn't. I didn't. You know I didn't. Of course I do. Of course I do. Oh, look,
darling, look. Cheer up. Cheer up. I've got a plan. A plan? Yes, yes. We need a vacation.
I'll be out of here in a week or so and then we'll go away. We'll just drive around the
country, do a little hunting and fishing, whatever we like. You always used to love
those trips. Oh, yes, Frank. Let's. Sure. Sure. We'll just go off and take it easy for
a while and forget the whole thing. Yes, let's. And forget the whole thing. That's what we
did. And I almost did forget the whole thing. It seemed like a nightmare that I dreamed
a long, long time ago. I couldn't believe that I'd really done what I'd done. And I
knew I'd never do it again. As though by mutual consent, we never spoke another word about
it. But I was at peace for the first time since I could remember. And I knew that even
Charlie could be dealt with somehow when we got home. We drove all over the state for
almost three weeks. And on the way back, we stopped over at Little Lake in the Sierras.
One day we rode across it and had a picnic lunch on the other side. Oh, it was beautiful
and so peaceful. There wasn't another soul around for miles. Frank still had the cast
on his left arm. It made him a little clumsy. Getting back into the boat again, he stumbled
over the shotgun, till it up against the seat. I knew he was dead even before I got to him.
The police escorted us. They questioned me a little while and then they left me in the
room alone. But a few minutes later, the door opened and somebody came in. It was Mr. Sparks.
Well, so you finally did it. Oh, no. No. The trouble with you amateurs is you don't know
your case histories. That hunting accident gag is too old, Mrs. Nicholson. Much too old.
But I didn't. I swear. I swear to you, I didn't. Well, you got the money now anyway. At least
you can hire yourself a flock of good lawyers. Please. Please don't. I can't bear it. I
didn't do what I tell you. You can ask Charlie. Charlie Prescott. Charles Prescott killed
himself this morning when the police arrived to question him. Look, Mrs. Nicholson, I'm
in this thing up to my neck, unfortunately. I'm going to have to tell what I know. And
I know somebody tampered with a steering knuckle on that car and it wasn't Prescott. I know
you tried to kill your husband and put it on Prescott. It just doesn't add up any other
way. All right. Yes, I did. But I didn't do the other. You've got to believe me. I didn't.
You didn't shoot him, man. By all that's sacred in the world, I swear I didn't. Could be.
You do believe me. Say that you believe me. What's the difference? Nobody else will. That's
all. Except my execution will be on the 31st, one week from today. Suspense. Presented
by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. And now
this is Ken Niles returning for the curtain call with a lovely star of tonight's Suspense
play, Miss Susan Hayward. Susan, we think you were wonderful. Well, it was a wonderful part,
Ken. For your grand performance, Susan, here's a gift basket of Roma Wines with Roma's compliments.
Thank you very much. Ken, will you grant me one tiny little favor? Why, certainly. Just
name it. I'm simply fascinated by the way your narrator says, Suspense. Ask him to say
it again, huh? Just for me. For you, Susan, he'd probably say it in Technicolor. Joe?
Suspense. And Susan, you needn't be in suspense about what to serve when friends drop in.
For the Roma California sherry in your gift basket is the favorite of millions for afternoon
or evening entertaining. And Roma sherry is the perfect first call for dinner. Roma sherry.
I'll remember, Ken. And when you serve Roma sherry, Susan, your guests will remember its
finer taste. For to make Roma sherry better tasting, Roma vintners select California's
choicest grapes. Then, with America's finest wine-making resources, Roma guides this grape
treasure to tempting taste richness. Later, Roma selects from this world's greatest reserve
of fine wines for your pleasure. No wonder more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine.
That's a real recommendation, Ken. Now tell me who's on Suspense next week. Well, next
week it's Brian Donlevy in a Suspense play about a man upon whom a freak of nature confers
a terrifying attribute. He is a human lie detector. It's impossible for him to hear
a falsehood without instantly knowing it and revealing the deception. The terrifying is
right. I'll certainly be listening. And that's no lie. Well, thanks, Susan. And we're looking
forward to seeing you in the Walter Wanger production smash-up. Thanks, Ken. Good night,
everybody. Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Mr. Brian Donlevy as star of Suspense.
You stand directed by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. This
is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.