Suspense!
Produced, edited, and directed by William Spear.
This is the second in a special limited series of five Friday night performances of Suspense
at this hour.
Suspense is compounded of mystery and suspicion and dangerous adventure.
In this series, our story is calculated to intrigue you, to stir your nerves, to offer
you a precarious situation, and then withhold the solution until the last possible moment.
Tonight from Hollywood, we bring you Mr. Jackie Cooper as star in The Clock and the Rope,
a radio play by Lewis Pollock.
We trust that with this tale, we shall once again keep you in Suspense.
Would you like to hear the old story about the innocent man facing execution and his
last minute attempts to get a pardon and how it feels when he doesn't get it?
Well, I can tell you all about it, because that's my story.
There's a couple of different twists to it, of course, there always are.
For one thing, it happened to me, now I keep away from people.
I keep away from cities and buildings, buildings with the cells they call rooms and the doors
that don't always open.
I never button my collar, you'll find out why.
I earned my living as a guide for hunting parties, me, who couldn't find my way across
the city park.
I never sleep indoors and I can't stand clocks.
Most of all, I can't stand clocks.
It happened so fast, I told them it wasn't murder, it was self-defense, involuntary self-defense,
like putting up your arms to protect yourself.
But it didn't work out that way in court.
That's the other different twist I told you about.
They convicted me, they sentenced me to be hanged, and they hanged me.
I was night man, my job wasn't hard, and to me interesting.
Sell a little gas, do the rough strip down for some repairs that had to be done the next
day, take care of any tranch and overnight parking.
Then this girl started dropping in for gas every other night or so, late.
I liked her style, but I was too shy to say anything and I guess she figured it.
She'd sit with a sort of a little smile, half turned in her seat, and watch me while I filled
the tank.
Then she'd pay me and pull away with a funny look in her eyes, like she was getting a kick
out of the way I acted.
Then one night, instead of pulling away when she paid me, she spoke.
Oh, come on, come on, open up.
Say something, I've been here 20 times.
You can say a word or two, can't you?
You know, hello, it's a nice night or it ain't.
Oh, well, I didn't know that you wanted me to.
You're a funny fellow.
I didn't look like I didn't want you to, did I?
Or don't I know my looks anymore?
Oh, sure.
Oh, I just, well, can I get your windshield here?
Tell me, did I hear somebody call you Hank the other night?
I guess you did.
My name's Henry, Henry Guilford.
Does your girl call you Hank?
Haven't you got a girl?
No, steady girl.
Is that what you mean?
I don't mean anything.
Anyway, what would you be doing on a steady girl working here every night?
Well, I get one night off, go to a dance or something.
Oh, you get a night off?
Oh, sure.
Hey, say, you like to dance?
I have, Dan.
Well, I'm off tomorrow night.
You ever go to the Arcadia?
They got a good band there.
Forget who it is this week.
I'm sorry, tomorrow night isn't my night off.
But I get off at midnight, though.
Well, gee, the Arcadia closes at midnight.
All the big dance places close at midnight.
We don't have to have a big place, do we?
Well, I don't know.
No.
There's the Owl Inn out on Tapscott Avenue.
They run late, have a pretty good little band and booths and everything.
That'll be fine.
I'll pick you up at your job.
No, I'm way at the other end of town.
I have to drive my car back anyway.
Suppose I meet you at the Owl.
I'll be there a little after midnight.
I'll be there.
Okay.
See you.
Yeah, see you.
Jose, hey, what's your name?
My name's Mike, Mike.
Mike, Mike.
Well, that next night around 1130, I caught the trolley going out along Tapscott Avenue.
The motorman was old Steve Hoffman.
He'd known me since I was a kid.
He'd written me about my new gray suit and especially about wanting to get off at the
Owl Inn.
Said I was stepping out in fast company.
Well, we got there in about 20 minutes and I started up the driveway, kind of thrilled
at the idea of a midnight date.
I was just starting up the steps to the inn when I heard voices coming from a grove of
trees to one side.
Seemed to be a quarrel, so I instinctively glanced that way and saw a man and a girl
talking.
The girl was my girl.
She was saying something.
Nobody, I tell you.
Don't give me that stuff.
I've followed you all the way out here.
Who are you meeting?
Nobody.
Who are you meeting?
Oh, Joe, I told you nobody.
Don't lie to me.
Who are you meeting?
Hey, come back here.
Hey, what is this?
Get out of my way.
Look, this is...
What's you, Hank?
Well, here, here, I'll help you up.
I'm sorry I got in your way, but I...
Oh, Hank, so this is the guy, huh?
Swell.
Hey, now what's going on?
What do you mean anybody, huh?
Hey.
What did you get him for?
Joe, he's got nothing to do with you.
Get up, Hank and Ron.
This guy is just crazy.
Crazy?
Well, go call somebody.
What?
Now, wait a minute, fellow.
Look, I don't know what this is.
Oh, Hank, will you get out of here?
Run.
You want more?
I got it right here for you.
Hank, it's a blackjack.
Will you run?
Please?
No, no, wait a minute.
I'll get you drunk, here, put that away, now somebody's gonna get...
Let go?
No, you don't grab...
Let go?
You got him.
You got him, Hank.
Hit him.
Hit him again.
Hit him.
Hit him.
Hit him.
Hit him.
I did it, I guess.
Hey, who is he?
Oh, he would have done worse to you.
He's...
We used to go together.
Oh, I didn't know you had a steady fellow.
I thought we made our date.
You didn't ask me.
Besides, we were breaking up.
He had no right to interfere.
Well, what do we do now?
I mean about him.
You better go.
I'll take care of him.
No.
You mean leave him here with you?
Please go, will you?
There'll be more trouble if you're too...
Go ahead, will you, Hank?
I'm gonna leave right away too.
He'll be all right, honest.
Well, okay, I guess.
He'll be all right up.
Joe.
Joe?
But he wasn't all right.
He was dead.
I knew about it hardly two hours later.
She didn't come and tell me.
The police came and got me.
They didn't learn about me from her either.
They didn't know anything about her.
And they acted like they didn't want to know.
Sometimes you punks aren't as smart as you think you are.
I wasn't trying to cover up, I tell you.
I wasn't.
Why did you walk home?
You rode out there on a trolley.
Why didn't you ride back?
I just wanted to think, that's all.
Yeah, sure, sure.
Of course, you weren't thinking about how maybe the motor man wouldn't remember taking
you out there if you didn't ride back.
No, why would I do that?
I've known old Steve Hoffman all my life.
That I found out.
I told you, you aren't as smart as you think you are.
I'm not trying to be smart.
Okay, okay, okay.
So you hit him in self-defense and you saved the girl.
Now, what's her name?
Her name?
Gee, I never got it.
She never told me.
You mean you had a date with a girl and you didn't even know what her name was?
Well, yeah, well I asked her.
I seen her often.
Well, she didn't tell me.
Are you sure there was a girl?
Of course.
Now who did I have a date with?
Maybe just with the guy you killed.
I never met him before.
I don't even know him.
You just don't know anything, do you?
Well, I'll ask you a very simple question.
I'm sure you can answer this one.
I'll try.
How much money did you take off the man you murdered?
How much money?
Yeah, how much?
Where is it?
His pockets were turned inside out.
You went from self-defense to help yourself.
They pushed me around some after that.
They'd take me to court and then back to my cell.
Half the time I didn't know what was going on.
They gave me a lawyer, Mr. Hall, Bailey Hall.
He'd do the talking.
He kept asking for things like reduced bail, time for further investigation, continuances
to find witnesses, just sort of stalling all the time.
I don't know why.
I told him I didn't have any money for any bail and witnesses.
There was only one I wanted, that girl.
But he kept on.
I was trying to hold up things.
And one day he told me I'd been indicted.
I knew what that meant all right.
Then I had to go on trial for murder.
That's bad, boy.
I've done all I could to delay indictment and trial and hope that something would turn
up, but we're in for it now.
I wish you could give me something more to work on.
What do you mean?
Well, this girl you can't even name.
I can't go into court with just that.
The police feel certain there never was a girl.
There's no trace of her anywhere.
Maybe she'll show up.
Show up?
My boy, you've got a lot to learn.
I hate to bet my case on a hope like this.
That's all I got.
Whole case smells.
A man is killed and his pocket's empty.
You admit hitting him.
You talk about a girl who saw you hit in self-defense.
You don't know her name.
She doesn't show up.
The police can't find her.
It's a great case for the state.
Mr. Hall, that's all I know.
I can't help it.
Why, George, if you'd never mentioned the girl and just claimed self-defense or a fight,
I'd like it 10 times better.
It's a girl thing that's so bad, it makes your whole defense phony.
Good Lord, boy, if you made up a girl, why didn't you make up a name?
I've been all through that with the police.
If you're gonna talk that way to me, we'd better forget the whole thing.
Maybe you'll give me another attorney or none for all I care.
Easy, easy, boy.
Sorry, I piped off.
It isn't a new attorney you need.
It's a new story.
Well, I'll do my best.
Do my best.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's right.
Guilford rode out to the inn that night in my trolley.
On my run.
Speak louder, please.
Yeah, that's right.
Guilford rode out to the inn that night in my trolley.
On my run.
Speak to the jury, please, and talk louder.
Oh, louder?
Oh.
I, uh, I said I took Guilford to the inn that night.
It was about 1210.
Uh, that's 10 after midnight, you know.
Card talk, doesn't it?
The way we talk around the barn.
He got out and started for the inn.
Yes, well, just a minute.
Did you notice anyone else around?
Any girl, for instance?
Girl?
No.
Nobody else.
Just my friend, Fatty Cushion, that's all.
That'll be all.
We play Puyknuckle together, don't you?
Thank you very much.
Yes.
And the defense may have the witness.
And as soon as we started to talk to Guilford, he confessed to striking the blows.
He talked about doing it in self-defense and about a girl he had a date with, a witness
to fight.
Yeah.
Well, now, Lieutenant, has your department been able to trace this girl whose existence
is claimed by the defendant?
No.
No trace of her at all?
No, sir.
No trace of her at all.
Beyond the shadow of any reasonable doubt.
Now then, we come to the actual evidence, ladies and gentlemen of the jury.
Where do we get the evidence?
From the witnesses.
And who is the state's principal witness?
None other than the defendant himself, Henry Guilford.
But the defendant can prove his story.
He has a witness, the girl who saw it all, the girl he saved from a bad beating.
Would any girl be so heartless as to leave such a benefactor in the lurch when just a
word would save him?
Why doesn't she appear?
Why hasn't she found?
But no, no trace of her.
Not even a small size note.
In other words, she is behaving exactly as you would expect of someone who is not real,
but just the figment of a desperate man's imagination.
The defendant will rise.
Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?
We have, your honor.
What is your verdict?
We the jury find the defendant, Henry Guilford, guilty as charged with murder in the first
degree.
Henry Guilford, you have...
Yes, sir.
It was crazy.
Sometimes I thought it must be just a crazy nightmare.
Like when you're going to wake up and everything's going to be all right.
I was innocent.
And they were going to hang me.
For murder.
Because they couldn't find a girl.
One girl who knew I hadn't done it.
Can you imagine how that feels?
My boss at the garage and the fellows who worked there days chipped in some money.
I had an uncle in West Virginia who sent Mr. Hall $50 in cash, a promissory note for another
50.
And I guess Mr. Hall put up some money himself for expenses.
Anyway, he kept appealing the case all the way up to the state Supreme Court.
But it didn't do any good.
Kept coming back with the original decision sustained, Mr. Hall said.
I asked him if he was going to take the case to the United States Supreme Court.
But he said he couldn't.
He had nothing to justify a hearing.
Guess he meant everything was cut and dry.
All this time the courts had kept changing the date.
The date I was supposed to be hanged.
Now all of a sudden I knew there weren't going to be any more changes.
The last date set was it.
How do you suppose that feels?
I think I started to suffocate right then.
There was something growing in my throat that wouldn't let me breathe.
Evening of the next day, McGill, the deputy warden, came into my cell with a couple of
guards.
Told me I was moving.
I knew where.
It was down on the main floor, a row of only three cells.
These were larger cells.
More light.
More convenient.
This was the last death row.
Now there's a team of two guards who live right in the cell with you the last few days.
It's one time a prison breaks down and shows a human touch, I guess.
Where else?
I just want to make sure you don't go ahead and carry out the sentence on yourself.
Anyway, whatever it was, I was grateful.
Because now I was lonely.
Wait deep inside myself.
I ached with loneliness and fear.
I was afraid.
Well, not like a man.
Afraid of a boy or a child.
Who's gone someplace?
The last place.
I was going alone.
The thing you feel most the last hours is the time.
The clock.
Remembering how often you wished it would hurry so you could get off work or go out
of school or see your girl, like a fishin'.
Oh, you remember a hundred hours like that one.
Six hours is all you got left.
Outside, you know, they're watching the clock, too.
Not like you are, but they're watching it.
All the usual people concerned with an execution, doing the usual things.
Your lawyer in the ward, governor maybe, newspaper men, guards, the executioner.
I know what every one of them was doing as they watched the clock that night.
They told me afterwards.
Now I'll never forget it.
The clocks all over the state ticking away my life.
You know, you ought to get some sleep, warden.
It's only five hours away.
I know.
Oh, I wish I could lose this pain in my chest for a little while.
I think I'll just lie down here on the couch.
Why don't you do that, warden?
Yeah, yeah.
Oh.
What time is it?
It's coming up one a.m.
Been feeling bad all day?
Not too good.
I've got this thing in my chest.
I suppose it's nervous indigestion.
Good day.
Yeah.
Had it a couple of weeks, as a matter of fact.
I'm exhausted.
This is a tough job, McGill.
Every time it gets harder, it takes it out of me.
What do you think of young Guilford?
Nice kid.
Yeah.
Yeah, nice kid.
He sounds like he's...
Well, that's not up to us.
It's not up to us.
Well, I'll try and get some rest.
Yeah.
When shall I call you, warden?
Oh, make it an hour beforehand.
Five o'clock.
Hello.
This is Bailey Hall.
Yes, I'm Guilford's attorney.
Look, it's four o'clock in the morning.
I need...
You're who?
You're...
Well, where have you been all this time?
What?
Yeah, now look, you're not just some crank that's after publicity.
I know, I know, I know.
It's for six o'clock.
Where are you?
Well, wait for me.
I'll be right down.
We've got about two hours.
I'll stake my reputation on the governor.
This is a girl.
At least it deserves a stay of execution.
It's true, sir.
Honest, I swear it's true.
I've been away.
I've been in Mexico.
You just don't read the papers there.
I just hadn't heard about it till tonight, but it's just as he said it was.
Self-defense.
Please, sir, it's after five o'clock now.
Can't we get...
What about the money that was taken out of the dead man?
I took it.
I took it.
I needed it.
I didn't know he was dead.
He was drunk.
He was...
I had every right to the money, honest.
He'd been my husband.
Well, very well.
Richard.
Yes, governor?
Type out a stay of execution on the Guilford case for three weeks.
Bring it in and I'll sign it.
You can take it down.
All right.
You'd better phone the warden to make sure, though, governor.
The boy's only got about a half hour left.
Oh, warden's office.
Yes, this is warden Barnes.
What?
Well, put him on, of course.
Yes, governor.
Young Guilford?
Oh, you don't say so.
Why, that's splendid, governor.
Yes.
Yes, I'll let them know right away.
Yes.
Mr. McGill!
Yes, warden.
Harry, Jack, come in here quick.
What's the matter?
Something's happened to the warden.
Let me get him up on the couch.
Yes, warden.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
You're not going to get hurt.
That's better.
Looks like a stroke.
Yeah, you better call the doctor, will you?
Sure.
Phone off the hook.
Never mind that.
Call the doctor.
Must have been the strain on this execution.
Warden.
I think he's kind of like the kid.
What's the matter with his phone?
I'm afraid there's no hurry for the doctor.
The warden's dead.
Gee.
Yeah.
It's 5.30.
I'm afraid it's time to go.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
It's 5.30.
I'll have to take over for the execution.
Uh, gentlemen.
Gentlemen, please.
It's now 10 minutes to six, gentlemen.
In a few moments, you will be admitted to the ground floor of Blockhouse A, where the
scaffold has been erected and where the execution, which you are to witness as newspaperman and
members of the medical profession, will take place.
You'll find rows of benches.
Please take your seats quietly in any of the rows except the first, which has been reserved
for members of the medical examining committee.
We ask you to cooperate with us in our duties and to respect the solemnity of the occasion
by moving quietly and refraining from any loud conversation from the moment you enter
until you leave.
Thank you.
The minister was reading from the Bible when the outer cell-block door clanged.
I knew it was time.
They were coming for me.
This was it then.
There was a group of guards.
The deputy warden was with them.
They opened my cell door.
One of the guards came straight up to me.
He was carrying a leather strap with a big buckle on it.
I stood up.
I felt him strapping my arms behind me.
The minister stopped reading for a moment to say something.
Steady, my son.
We'll go now, Guilford.
I started to say something to the deputy, but he nodded his head at the man, and he started
to move.
The two guards who'd been with me in the cell stood back.
One of them reached over and let his hand fall on my shoulder for a second.
I tried to say goodbye.
I walked and realized they couldn't breathe very deeply, though I wanted to.
Just short breaths were all I could take.
The deputy turned around once and looked at me.
He seemed nervous.
That bothered me.
I wish he wasn't so nervous.
We got to a door in the corner.
Through that and another door that was already open.
I walked through and I was in a room full of men, but my eyes went to something else.
There were steps just ahead of me, unpainted wooden steps.
They led to a platform, and from above that, there was, I saw the rope.
I walked up with you, my son.
Huh?
What?
The guard who was waiting worked fast.
He moved me into position.
The men in the room were going me now.
There was a movement among them.
One of them had fainted and his bed fell over.
He landed hard.
I wondered if he'd hurt himself.
Then I felt something over my head.
He lifted it and came down over my head.
Somewhere inside of me, a scream began, but my lips were closed and I was just saying
to myself, hurry, hurry, hurry.
Don't put any calls through here.
What, what, what?
But you know better than to ring the phone now.
Guilford's on the scaffold.
What?
Governor's messenger at the outer gate.
Well, are you sure it's not?
The trap is sprung.
McGill!
McGill, stop this apartment!
Stop it!
Stop it, McGill!
No, a man doesn't always die right away when he's hanged.
They talk about the neck being broken and death coming instantly.
No, not always.
Death doesn't come for a long time.
For some men it's nearly 20 minutes.
For others it may be less.
But never under 12 minutes before the heart stops.
You can check on that.
Me?
I was only up a few seconds.
They cut me down and the doctors worked on me right on the wheel stretcher that was waiting
to carry my body out.
No, I didn't lose consciousness.
I sometimes wish I had.
I sometimes wish I had gone then instead of being brought back to remember every bit of
those last hours.
There was a new trial after I was on my feet again, but I don't know what was said and
I was free.
I saw the girl, Judy.
I know her name now and I thanked her.
Neither one of us knew what to say after that so she just went.
Yes, I never sleep indoors.
I never button my collar.
I don't like buildings, any building.
It's got stone and steel and holes in it.
I want to be out here where I can see the sky anytime I open my eyes and I open them
often.
I think too much when they're closed.
I hear the clock, the clock.
Suspense.
Produced, edited and directed by William Spear.
Tonight you heard Mr. Jackie Cooper as star of The Clock and The Rope.
This was the second in a limited series of five Friday night performances at this hour
which will present radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Jackie Cooper appeared by courtesy of United Artists.
Appearing with Mr. Cooper were Cathy Lewis, John McIntyre, Elliot Lewis, Joseph Kearns,
Paul McVeigh, Junius Matthews, Wally Mayer, Lester Jay and Jack Crushen.
The fourth Suspense is under the direction of Lud Gluskin with original music composed
by Lucian Morawak.
Next Friday same time we will bring you one of the most remarkable studies in Suspense
ever to be presented in this series.
Mr. Dan Durier will be our star in The Man Who Couldn't Lose.
Don't forget next Friday same time listen to Suspense.
This is CBS, The Columbia Broadcasting System.