Suspense!
Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present Ms. Loretta Young in Lady Killer,
a suspense play produced and edited by William Spear.
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And now with Lady Killer and the performance of Loretta Young, Auto Light hopes once again to keep you in suspense.
Flight 175 to Morningside and Capitol City now loading at Gate 3.
Will passengers please board the plane?
Is this the right plane for Capitol City, stewardess?
Yes, sir. Name, please.
I'm Benson, Grant Fender.
Take any seat, Mr. Benson.
I have a horror of getting in the wrong plane someday and winding up in Shabette.
Things like that happen to me.
Well, it's not very likely this time. Your name is on the passenger list.
So it is. That won't keep me from worrying, though.
Name, please.
Nordlinger. Miss Nordlinger.
You can leave your coat with me if you like, Miss Nordlinger. I guess I would be better.
Here you are.
Take any seat, Miss Nordlinger.
Thank you, stewardess.
I always think the best way to problem is to ask stewardess to move more.
No, you can't, stewardess. Company rules.
I beg your pardon. Is this seat taken?
As a matter of fact, Miss Nordlinger, I was saving it for you.
You know me?
We've never met, but we travel in the same circle.
Don't I look at all familiar?
No. But how do you do?
Sit down, fasten your safety belt, have a pillow.
Sick of gum? Set your blanket?
I'll settle for the gum.
Here you are.
Thank you.
If you chew gum when you're up in the air, it relieves pressure on the ears.
Why it relieves pressure on the ears, I happen to beg your pardon.
Do you always babble on like this?
Pretty near always, though sometimes...
Miss Nordlinger.
Oh, yes? Yes, stewardess.
This telegram just arrived for you.
Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.
We'll be taking off in a few minutes, so if you want to send an answer...
Oh, no. I'm sure an answer won't be necessary, stewardess.
I'll tell the boy not to wait.
Thank you.
Aren't you going to open the telegram, Miss Nordlinger?
I promise not to peek, or at most only a little bit.
I can't open it. You see, I'm not Miss Nordlinger.
I'm sort of on the dull-witted side.
Well, the flight was booked solid, but I came out to the airport hoping there'd be a cancellation.
And just before the passengers started to get on board, a woman came up to me and offered me a ticket.
How did she know you wanted one?
Well, she overheard me talking to the clerk at the reservation desk.
So?
Well, it would have taken extra time to have the ticket validated in my own name, so I decided to use hers.
This telegram complicates things.
What's your real name, deceitful woman?
Lincoln. Peg Lincoln. Miss Peg Lincoln.
And I didn't deceive you. I deceived the stewardess.
You just happened to have your ears flapping when I told her my name was Nordlinger.
Ah, then, Miss Lincoln, would you mind telling me why you let me go on with all that bilge about traveling in the same circle?
Well, you were trying to pick me up, and I thought I'd better help out a little.
That's what I liked about the modern woman, so shy and retiring, like Mata Hari.
Well, after all, it's a two-hour trip to Capital City.
Dear, I wish I knew what to do about this telegram.
Didn't the Nordlinger woman give you an address?
No, she didn't. I gave her mine, but she was in such a hurry to get away.
Uh, too late to do anything anyway. We're taking off.
Oh, that's, that's funny. I feel busy all at once.
Well, since we're still on the ground, just your imagination. Miss Lincoln.
Oh, it's so stuffy in here. I'm awfully sick.
Your Honor, Your Honor, I'd like the plane take off. There's someone sick here.
It feels like poison.
Sick? Oh, brother, was I sick.
When I came to in the hospital after a nightmare in which stomach pumps seemed to be reoccurring,
I was told that I could thank my handsome seatmate for the fact that I was still alive.
He'd stopped the flight, carried me off the plane, and raced me into the hospital.
Furthermore, he had engaged a private nurse and had telephoned every hour until assured that the danger was over.
I bounced back fast.
Next morning, found me weak as a kitten, but sufficiently recovered to leave the hospital.
A bubbling Mr. Benton was waiting to drive me home.
So we bid a reluctant farewell to Rosemont Hospital, to its unsmiling nurses with their picturesque thermometers,
to the pungent, unforgettable aroma of chloroform that lingers in its halls.
Miss Lincoln. Miss Lincoln.
Oh, yes?
Are you sure you didn't die?
I'm sorry. My mind was on something else.
Miss Lincoln, or may I call you Peg?
Let's keep it at Miss Lincoln for a while, Mr. Benton.
I wish we read the same books.
Meaning?
The books I read, A Fellow Saves the Girl's Life, She Falls All Over Him.
Yes?
The ones you read, it's Let's Keep It at Miss Lincoln for a while.
Maybe I should explain. I am an insurance investigator.
And insurance investigators get to be pretty good at spotting phonies.
I think you're a phony.
Well, aren't you sweet?
Not very.
You know what I'd do if you were drowning right now? I'd throw rocks at you.
I don't doubt it.
A cryptic remark. I love cryptic remarks.
Did Dr. Shipman happen to mention what I nearly died of?
He said it had some of the symptoms of food poisoning.
Suppose I told you I never eat for 12 hours before traveling?
I'd say you must have had something. Contaminated water, maybe.
Or maybe a stick of poisoned chewing gum to relieve the pressure on my ears, eh?
If you're getting at what I think you're getting at.
I am.
Do you know I canceled an important business trip just to make sure you were okay?
Or you'd be at the embalmers right now if I hadn't run it.
Sure, sure I would.
You did some expert diagnosing, all right. A little too expert for a man who hadn't had any medical training.
Don't look now, but you're losing your mind.
Now look, why would I want to poison a girl I'd never seen before, never had anything to do with?
That's what Dr. Shipman asked.
You mean you ran off with a mouth to him?
I pointed out that the poison may have been meant for the woman whose ticket I bought.
It's too late to make any poison tests, but to be on the safe side, Dr. Shipman decided to check on you.
He called Chief of Police Longman.
Oh, that must have been good. Ray Longman and I used to trade tricycles.
Oh, the Chief rates you high, all right. Above suspicion was the phrase he used.
But you're still not sold.
I was for a while, but just after I got into your car, I found this unopened telegram in my pocket.
Isn't that the one that was delivered to you aboard the plane, the one addressed to that Nordlinger woman?
Yes.
Well, what about it?
Well, it wasn't in my pocket when I left the hospital ten minutes ago.
You just didn't notice, that's all.
Want to look at a copy of the hospital receipt I signed for the personal article's return to me?
You'll find everything else on it. No telegram, though.
An oversight.
Oh, hospitals don't make oversight.
Would you mind running through the whole plot for me? I'm a little haziest to my motives.
All right. You poisoned me thinking I was a Nordlinger woman.
Fortunately for me, you discovered the mistake in time to correct it.
Well, for a murder, I certainly am, Ken.
However, you wanted to look at the telegram, so you stole it.
Probably as you carried me out of the plane. You read it, and then you re-sealed the envelope,
and then met me at the hospital hoping to slip it back into my pocket before I missed.
You've got the telegram right there. Open it up. Maybe we can put an end to this fairy tale.
Thank you. No, I'd rather wait until I find the Nordlinger woman.
She's still alive.
Well, then I'll open it for you.
Here, give that back to me, please.
Have a nice trip, love. It's signed Aunt Ellen.
Well, that's in my gang's secret code. That means boatload of stolen jewels ready to sail at dawn for what cheer Iowa.
Thoughtful of you to rip the envelope so I couldn't check the resealing.
How can you be suspicious of somebody so charming?
The Chief of Police knows what's on my mind.
If anything happens to me, it'll take more than that charm of yours to keep the badge boys off your neck.
But I do have charm. That we're agreed on.
Oh, yes. But you're wasting it on me.
Next one is my apartment building.
Oh, look out! Look out for that girl!
Oh, get out of the way!
No!
I can see you can swallow this water, please.
Oh. What happened?
It's me, Jack, the elevator operator.
Oh, gee, you had me scared.
Jack, how did I get...
I carried you into the apartment lobby.
Oh.
I guess you're still weak from the hospital because you fainted after the accident.
Oh. Where's Mr. Benton?
The man, the man who was driving the car. Where is he?
Police headquarters. They want you to report in too whenever you're feeling better.
And the girl was killed?
Yeah. She was awful.
Oh. Dead?
Yes, Miss Lincoln. It was so awful.
A friend of yours too, huh?
No. No, I don't...
Gee, she was just leaving here when the car hit her. She was asking for you.
Who was she?
Well, I wrote her name down. It's in my pocket somewhere.
Yeah, here it is.
Patricia Smyth. I don't know any Patricia Smyth.
She said it was important to get in touch with you.
Oh. Jack, Jack, did it strike you that Mr. Benton, the driver, could have avoided that accident by yanking the wheel the other way perhaps?
Well, I was reading the financial page when it happened. I didn't see nothing.
Oh.
But anything you want me to swear to it on, Miss Lincoln?
No, no. Never mind, Jack. Call me a cab, will you?
Oh, Miss Lincoln, you're sick. You ought to be in bed.
Well, look here. Something tells me if I stay a lot healthier if I get to the telegraph office right away.
I'm sorry. Now, what was that message again, Miss?
It was addressed to Kate Nordlinger at the municipal airport.
And the message?
Have a nice trip. Love, Aunt Ellen.
Uh-huh. Well, not sent from this office. Might I see the telegram?
Certainly. Here it is.
Why, this thing is fake, Miss.
Are you sure?
It's a regulation form, all right, and the message is pasted on in the scripts, but, well, look how different the type is from one of ours.
Yeah. Yes, I see. Well, was any telegram sent to Kate Nordlinger at the airport?
You're Miss Nordlinger?
Yes, I am.
Well, I can look it up in a minute.
Thank you. That'll be fine.
Uh-huh.
What's the minute here? I think I can find it right away.
Oh, yes. Yes, yes, here's one.
Let's see. It reads, um, on your return, we'll contact you at Hotel Ludwig.
It's signed Patricia Smythe.
Patricia Smythe.
S-M-Y-T-A-T.
What was the name of that hotel?
The Ludwig, Hotel Ludwig. Right there, right across the street.
Oh, oh, yes. Thank you very much. You've been very helpful.
Quite well.
Good afternoon, Hotel Ludwig. Just a moment, I'll connect you.
May I help you, Miss?
Yes, if you would. Bring Miss Kate Nordlinger's room and tell her that Miss Lincoln would like to see her for a moment. It's important.
Whose room did you say?
Miss Nordlinger's.
Well, I'm sorry, but we have no Miss Nordlinger registered at the Ludwig.
Well, I was sure she was staying here.
A friend of yours, Miss?
Why do you ask that?
Well, it seemed a natural sort of question.
Well, not to me, it didn't. Why do you want to know she's a friend of mine?
No reason. No reason at all. I'm just making conversation.
Well, make a little more conversation, will you? Did you ever have a Kate Nordlinger registered here?
Well, yes, but she's not with us any longer.
When did she leave?
Last night.
Why didn't you tell me that before?
I didn't think it important.
Yes, you did, or you'd have mentioned it. Where'd she go?
I don't know, I really...
Why are you so scared?
I'm not scared. It's the manager's orders. We're not supposed to talk to reporters.
Oh, now what makes you think I'm a reporter?
Well, who else would ask questions the way you do?
An insurance investigator.
Oh.
Here are my credentials. Now, what's this all about?
Well, you'll have to promise to keep it confidential, Miss.
Because?
Thanks to the cooperation of the police, there's been nothing about it in the papers, and we'd like to keep it that way.
Such things are bad publicity for the hotel.
What do you mean, such things?
Well, suicides.
Oh.
Last night, Kate Nordlinger threw herself out the window on the fourteenth floor.
Auto Light is bringing you Lorena Young in Lady Killer, tonight's production in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspend.
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And now, Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood Soundstage, our star Loretta Young as Peg Lincoln, with Larry Dobkin as Grant Benton in Ladykiller.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Come in.
Hello, Ms. Lincoln. Taking over Kate Nordling's room as well as her name?
How about a stick of chewing gum?
No, thanks, Mr. Benton. I thought you were at police headquarters.
The police didn't keep me long.
It was obviously an accident, so...
Obviously?
Look here, Ms. Lincoln. My car hit a girl and killed her. It was her own fault, but that doesn't make me feel any better about it.
I could do without the cracks.
Oh.
What are you doing here?
I just happened to be leaving my room as you walked into this one.
That was convenient.
I thought I recognized you and so...
You live at this hotel?
Certainly, when I'm in town.
Oh, I see.
Or did you think I just dropped by to push Kate Nordling out the window?
So you know about that?
The chief of police is a friend of mine, remember?
Oh, yes, that's right.
Me living on the same floor as the woman who committed suicide, I thought maybe I could help with some background information.
But you couldn't, of course.
No, I couldn't.
Uh-huh.
Believe it or not, I never once laid eyes on the woman.
Oh.
And it wasn't until I saw you walk in here that I connected her name with the name of the telegram.
Well, I had better be going now.
You think I'm lying, don't you?
No, no, not necessarily. I...
Please don't come one step closer, Mr. Benton.
Ms. Lincoln.
One step closer and I start screaming.
Take it easy. I'm not coming any closer.
I won't try to kid you.
I'm scared of you. Really scared.
I'm going out of that door now. And don't you move.
This is absurd.
So much as lift a finger and I'll yell my head off.
I'm scared I'll tell you.
And I kept running until I was out of sight of the hotel.
At police headquarters, I suppose I looked just like any other psychopath with a persecution complex.
But I was stubborn about it.
Finally I got in to see the chief of police himself, Ray Long when his name was.
Surprisingly young for his job, middle thirties I should say. Good looking, patient and reasonable.
But when I told him of my experiences with the Charming Mr. Benton, he laughed out loud.
Why, Grant Benton was his best friend. The whole thing was impossible.
In the first place, there was no connection between the deaths of the two women.
Patricia Smyth, the girl in the automobile accident, had been a clerk at the police department.
The chief had known her well.
Kate Nordlinger had held a private detective's license for five years prior to her suicide, as he kept calling it.
So far as anyone knew, the two women had never even seen each other.
It wasn't until then that I mentioned the fake telegram.
Well, I'll tell you what I'll do, Miss Lincoln. I'll check with the telegraph company.
If anything develops, I'll get in touch with you later.
Get in touch with me later?
I know, I know. You're taking all this very seriously.
What am I supposed to do? Sit around like a duck in a shooting gallery until you decide to...
You can't be your own insurance investigator. You're a court procedure.
Would you under oath swear that Grant Benton deliberately drove into Patricia Smyth and killed her?
Well, I...
Oh, no.
No, I couldn't, but...
Well, I know he did it deliberately.
But I couldn't swear to it. If that makes any sense, then...
It does. In order to swear to it, you'd have to know exactly what went on in his mind at that moment.
Well, that's all very well and good, but don't you see that...
I assure you there's nothing to link Grant Benton with the Nordlinger woman's suicide.
And that brings us to the so-called attempts on your life.
Would you care to press charges?
Well, I... I can't prove anything.
So where does that leave us?
It leaves you thinking that your best friend is the victim of a few embarrassing coincidences.
And it leaves me thinking that...
That the chief of police is just a big dumb flatfoot being taken in by a pal?
Which is exactly what I did think.
I felt pretty sick when I left his office.
I went back to my apartment and locked the door and moved a dresser behind it, but...
Even that didn't give me any feeling of security.
I couldn't find anything else to do but paste the living room floor, so I...
I paced and... I paced and I paced and...
Finally, late in the afternoon...
Hello?
Miss Lincoln?
This is the chief of police, Ray Longman?
Oh, yes, yes.
I checked the telegraph company. Your story's on the level.
I already knew that.
Yes. Well, there are a couple of other developments I'd like to tell you about.
Could you come out to my home tonight after dinner?
Why, yes, I guess so.
Grant Benton will be there.
Oh. Well, now look here, I...
Yes, it's important.
I wrote down the street directions, and there were a lot of them because the chief's home was in the secluded hill section on the outskirts of town.
When I arrived there, my insides were doing push-ups.
But I was calm enough on the inside, I hoped.
Ah, Miss Lincoln.
Oh, good evening, chief.
I was half expecting you to be late. Most people have trouble finding my house tonight.
Well, I started early.
Won't you sit down?
Thank you.
Take the easy check.
Thank you.
Grant should be arriving any moment.
I, uh...
I want you to understand that...
Well, I'm not out to trick him into a confession or anything.
It's, uh...
Well, I'm hoping that the three of us can talk things out.
The situation's become uncomfortable all around.
With Benton being your best friend, I can see where this is rather awkward for you.
Awkward?
You know what happened this afternoon?
Know what?
Grant walked in on me just as I was testing this typewriter to see if the print checked with the print on the fake telegraph.
Oh.
I felt like Benedict Arnold.
I'm sorry.
Did the print check?
No.
Now I know what they mean by one-track mind.
There are other typewriters.
Well, that must be Grant now.
You can take my word for it, Miss Lincoln. There's no need to be frightened.
All right.
Good girl.
Ah, come in, Grant.
Thank you, Ray.
Well, what a handsome couple you two make.
Our forthright young chief of police.
And the lovely lady who was only recently voted Miss Unbridled Imagination of 1950.
All right, that's enough, Grant. Sit over there and behave yourself.
Now then, Miss Lincoln, to business.
What can I do for you?
Chief Longman thinks you can convince me you're innocent.
I have reservations.
On what plane?
Where would you like me to begin?
Let's start with a fake telegram.
Explain that away.
Starting with a beaut.
The one thing I can't explain, I haven't the faintest idea why it was done or who did it.
But you didn't.
No.
Won't you even try to believe me?
Yes, yes, I'll try.
I'll even concede it was an accident when your car killed Patricia Smythe.
Are you willing to believe that that blonde miss, whatever her name was, committed suicide?
Kate Nordling?
Mm-hmm.
How did you know she was a blonde?
I read it in the paper with my big blue eyes.
The whole thing was kept out of the newspapers and you told me that you never laid eyes on me.
Well, pardon me for interrupting, Miss Lincoln, but I questioned Grant right after the suicide,
at the time I probably mentioned that the Nordinger woman was blonde.
You did, Chief. I distinctly remember.
Don't let him talk you into it, Chief.
For heaven's sake, open your eyes. He's it. The explanation fits.
What explanation?
Well, can't you see?
Patricia Smythe worked as a clerk in your office
and she happened on some information that incriminated our friend here.
There was no sense her telling you about it.
You were too fond of Benton to believe it anyhow.
So she went to Kate Nordlinger, a private detective, and they worked together on the case.
Benton found out what was going on.
When he learned that Miss Nordlinger was taking a plane to Capital City
in order to talk to the state's attorney, he decided to act.
He'd seen Patricia Smythe around police headquarters plenty of times,
but the Nordlinger woman, he only knew by name,
which is how he came to give me the poison by mistake, don't you see?
I apologize, Grant. I thought Miss Lincoln understood this was to be a friendly meeting.
The girls will be girls.
But listen, Chief. That's all I asked. Just listen.
Very well. Go ahead.
Well, through the telegram, Benton learned that Kate Nordlinger was staying at the Hotel Ludwig.
That night while I was at the hospital, he killed her. He pushed her out of our window.
Later he recognized Patricia Smythe coming out of my apartment building.
She'd come to warn me of what I was getting mixed up in.
And he murdered her. He ran her down with his automobile.
Now really, Miss Lincoln, you're lucky.
Never mind, Ray. She's right.
I've made a couple of slips and the entire Supreme Court couldn't shake her loose now.
Very well, Miss Lincoln. If it makes you any happier, I killed both women.
I have the dubious honor of having proved your point.
You'll still be trying for laughs when they strap you in, won't you?
They're not strapping me.
If you get a glance at our forthright Chief of Police, you'll notice a rather large gun in his hand.
You'll further notice that it's pointed not at me, but at you.
Sorry, Miss Lincoln. We did our best to talk you out of this.
Now you've given me no choice.
Let me tell you what our forthright Chief of Police means.
He means that he and I run the gambling activities of this town.
And people who interfere are apt to get hurt, very hurt, dead, you might say.
I don't think the Chief is going to shoot.
Oh, there are two schools of thought on that.
I think I should mention that the bushes outside are sick with men from the State's Attorney's Office.
What, Easy, Chief, Easy?
When you telephoned to invite me here, Chief,
you told me that you had checked with a telegraph company about that fake telegram,
but later I talked to them again and it turned out that you hadn't checked,
which meant that you'd known about it all along.
It was then that I decided to long distance the State's Attorney.
You'd better leave the comedy to me, Miss Lincoln. That's not even a good stall.
The men outside are under orders to demand entry at the slightest disturbance.
Fire that gun, Chief, and they'll be here like a swarm of gnats.
And if I don't fire?
You'll take your chances in court.
After all, it was Benton who actually killed those two women.
You have any qualms about this, Chief? Just hand the gun over to me.
Wait a minute, Grant.
Stay right where you are for the moment, both of you.
What are you going to do with that ashtray?
Heave it through the window.
There's your slight disturbance, Miss Lincoln.
They'll be here.
We'll wait.
That bluff went over like a lead balloon.
Now if you let me have the gun, Chief.
Don't give it to him, Chief, please! Don't give it to him!
I'm not blinking now.
Quiet, Grant.
Make a joke, Mr. Benton.
Make a joke!
Suspense presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, Loretta Young, and featuring Larry Dobkin.
Remingchester, I've weighed your story about the buffalo.
Thank you, Wilcox, but I could have told you his weight, nearly two tons, to be exact.
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Next Thursday for Suspense, our star will be Mr. James Mason.
This will be a broadcast you won't want to miss, for next Thursday, Mr. Mason will appear in The Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe, one of the all-time masterpieces of Suspense.
Tonight's Suspense play was produced and edited by William Spear and directed by Norman MacDonald.
Music for Suspense is composed by Lucian Moraweck and conducted by Lud Bluskin.
Lady Killer is an original play for radio by William Bruckner.
Congratulations to Loretta Young, who has again been nominated for an Academy Award.
Ms. Young may currently be seen in the Metrobol with Mayor Production Key to the City.
In the coming weeks, you will hear such stars as Ronald Reagan, Alan Ladd, and Ginger Rogers.
Don't forget, next Thursday, same time, Auto Light will present Suspense, starring James Mason.
You can buy Auto Light resistor or regular spark plugs, Auto Light staple batteries, Auto Light electrical parts at your neighborhood Auto Light dealers.
Switch to Auto Light. Good night.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.