Suspense!
Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present Mr. James Mason in Banquo's Chair, a suspense
play produced and edited by William Spear.
Harlow Wilcox, you happy huckster, welcome me home.
Why, half fuels!
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And now with Banquo's chair and the performance of James Mason, Auto Light hopes once again
to keep you in suspense.
I will begin by reading to you a recent newspaper cutting about myself.
It has a bearing upon the story I'm about to tell you.
Please listen.
The recent retirement of Sir William Brent from the English Criminal Investigation has
given great joy to all the lawbreakers in our land.
For more than two decades, Sir William has terrorized the underworld.
The ex-head of the English Criminal Investigation has been the scourge of thieves and murderers.
And but one single solitary instance has he been known to confess defeat or to express
dissatisfaction with the outcome of his prosecution.
This was the now famous Bedford murder case.
That news item was written by Arthur Grange, a reporter who had been covering crime trials
for years and whom I knew very well indeed.
I had not, of course, given up the Bedford case.
That too is now over.
But that the case should be resolved as it was.
No one on earth could have foreseen.
I'd already made my arrangements with May Wakefield and, of course, with Bedford.
Arthur Grange's call came on Wednesday.
I just received your wire.
I hope you're coming.
Well, I am scheduled to go up to Woodsbury on Friday and dine with my sister.
How important is this dinner?
I don't think you will ever forget it as long as you live.
Isn't Turret House the place where Bedford murdered his aunt?
You have a good memory.
What's it all about?
Will you be here, Arthur?
You make it sound so mysterious.
It will be.
Can I bring my revolver?
Yes, I think you should, Arthur.
Good night.
It rained all day Friday and by evening a gusty November wind began to drive the rain
hard against the exposed wall of Turret House.
This mansion is a huge red brick, ugly product of Queen Victoria's time.
It did not stand gracefully but squatted at the back of a private road almost hidden from
view by several dripping pine trees.
The neighborhood was in decline.
Its best days were over.
Perhaps mine were too, I thought as I came down the stairs.
But after tonight it won't matter.
Oh, good evening, Miss Green.
Hello, Lane.
Last tonight is good, sir.
It's miserable.
It's not much warmer in here.
There's a fire in the library.
How are you, Sir William?
Quite well, Arthur.
What made you move into this drafty old dungeon?
I don't live here.
It's my temporary quarters.
I still live over there in the West End.
And here is Miss Stone, Miss Roberta Stone.
This is Mr. Arthur Grange.
Pleased to meet you.
How do you do?
Roberta is the famous mystery story writer.
Oh, yes.
I've read your books and enjoyed them.
Oh, thank you, Mr. Grange.
Perhaps you can tell me, Miss Stone, what mysterious event is going to take place here
this evening.
I was told to come armed.
He told me the same thing.
He has my gun.
I've never fired this monstrous ugly thing in all my life.
You're pointing it at me, Roberta.
That's not at all polite.
I'm sorry, Sir William.
This house, Roberta, was the scene of a particularly unpleasant crime, as Mr. Grange can tell you.
Oh, yes.
In this very house, John Bedford murdered his aunt, Miss Martha Ferguson.
Oh, how nice.
Mr. Bedford couldn't have picked a more ideal place.
Sir William, you must tell us what you're up to.
We'll have a drink first, and then I'll tell you both all about it.
Lane, will you serve the drinks?
Oh, yes, Sir William.
Good.
Now I can tell you that tonight I am going to close the Bedford case.
Mr. Grange?
Oh, thank you, Lane.
You're going to close the Bedford case tonight?
I'll give you the facts in an orderly fashion.
I never arrested John Bedford for the murder of his aunt, Miss Ferguson, for two reasons.
First, he had an absolute and perfect alibi.
Arresting him would only be a waste of time and money.
And secondly, according to English law, a man discharged can never be arrested again
on the same murder charge.
What's going to happen tonight?
In a short while, John Bedford will be here to dine with us.
And, oh, yes, his victim, Miss Ferguson.
You mean Miss Ferguson wasn't actually murdered?
Miss Ferguson is most thoroughly dead and has been dead for years.
So you're going to have the body of old Miss Ferguson here while we...
Please don't anticipate me.
As you both know, I've never lost a case except the Bedford murder.
I'm an egotist.
I've resigned from the criminal investigation for the sole reason of trapping John Bedford.
Well, I must say you have a great amount of patience, Sir William.
Yes, I am infinitely patient.
For three years I've been planning for this night.
This is a moment of considerable triumph for me.
I wanted to have some witnesses, a writer who will record this event and an admirer
who will appreciate the skill with which I will bring a notorious murderer to his proper
end.
I have an uncanny feeling that this is going to be gruesome.
Come.
You'd be ashamed to run away, wouldn't you?
I'll stay, of course.
So will I, as long as I have my weapon.
Splendid.
But before I tell you about my diabolical scheme, let me first acquaint Roberta with
the details of the murder.
I think I can recreate the circumstances for you quite accurately.
Very well then.
Exactly three years ago tonight.
Almost three.
Hilda?
Hilda, where are you?
Oh, where is that foolish maid, never around?
Yes, Saget.
Why don't you answer when I call?
I was in the kitchen, ma'am.
It's after ten o'clock.
You should be on your way home.
I'm just about to leave.
Has my nephew called?
No, ma'am.
Mr Bedford hasn't called since yesterday.
I told him he couldn't come here anymore, just like you told me.
I don't ever want to see him again.
He's no good, an evil man who will come to an evil end.
You're never to let him in here, Hilda.
He won't ever come in this house, not if I can help it.
Now you'd better run along and make sure all the doors are bolted before you leave.
Yes, ma'am.
Good night, Miss Ferguson.
Good night, Hilda.
Oh, pity about my nephew, John.
Such a pity about him.
Such a...
Who's there?
Who is it?
It's John, Aunt Martha, your own affectionate nephew.
What are you doing in my house?
You're not at all pleased to see me.
You're only living relative, too.
I'd like you to leave at once or I'll call the police.
Well, I'd rather not, Auntie.
I won't ever talk with you.
You don't want to talk to me.
All you want is my money.
You're putting the whole subject on a very vulgar level.
You've had all the money you will ever get out of me.
You won't get tuppence after I die.
And it may interest you to know that I'm changing my will tomorrow.
So I hear, Auntie.
You're wearing gloves that...
Yes, Auntie.
Keep away from me!
Oh, no, you're an old woman, Auntie.
All that money's no good for you.
You can't ever use it.
But to me, money is life.
And you're going to die soon anyway.
No, no, you're not going to do that!
Oh, yes, Auntie, I am, and I'd be doing you a favour.
You're old and ill and lonely.
Help!
Please, not screaming, Auntie.
They must strike.
And don't you worry, Auntie.
We'll have a fine funeral for you.
That's pretty much the way old Miss Ferguson was murdered.
Her maid, Hilda, found the body the next morning.
I immediately went to work on the case.
All the evidence pointed to John Bedford.
He almost admitted it himself.
I had him brought to my office for questioning.
How do you do, Sir William?
Oh, hello.
Please come in.
Oh, thank you.
Cigarette?
Oh, thank you.
Well, how does it feel to kill your aunt?
May I have a light, please?
Yes, of course.
I wouldn't know, Sir William.
You see, I never killed anyone.
Have you?
Yes, I've shot and killed lawbreakers who tried to get away.
And I've sent many of them to the gallows.
Eh, so I understand.
What was your relationship to your aunt?
I was her nephew.
Very amusing.
She didn't like you, did she?
I'm a truthful man.
She didn't.
She thought I was a spendthrift and a parasite.
She was quite right.
Where were you on the night of the murder?
In jail.
I drunk a little too much and got into a bit of a tiff with the police.
Quite an alibi.
Quite a fact.
Now, it was hardly possible for me to be in jail and kill my aunt at the same time, unless,
of course, my aunt came into my cell and allowed me to murder her, after which she walked back
to Turret House as a ghost, dragging her body behind her.
That's hardly possible.
Don't you think you ought to check, my darling?
I already have.
You're a skillful fellow.
Why don't you arrest me then, dear?
No, no, Mr. Bedford.
I have time and patience.
Oh, you'd better work fast.
By the time you get round to me, I'll have spent all of my aunt's beautiful money.
It's not her money I'm after.
It's your life.
Your beautiful life, Mr. Bedford.
Good day.
Yes, and tonight I shall have him.
Tonight, in your presence, he will commit that murder again, and this time I shall arrest
him for it.
Auto Light is bringing you James Mason in Banquo's Chair, tonight's production in Radio's
outstanding theatre of thrills, Suspense.
Say, Harlow, while I was on vacation, I used nothing but those miraculous new Wide Gap Auto
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And what a performance.
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Harlow, let me tell you how those Wide Gap Auto Light Resistor Spark plugs worked like
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But with Auto Light Resistor Spark plugs, you do get special advantages, such as smoother
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conditions as compared to spark plugs without the built-in resistor.
And it's all due to the 10,000 ohm exclusive Auto Light Resistor built right into every
Auto Light Resistor Spark plug.
So friends, see your neighborhood Auto Light spark plug dealer tomorrow and have worn out
spark plugs replaced with ignition engineered Auto Light spark plugs.
Whether you choose the resistor type or the regular type, you'll be right because you're
always right with Auto Light.
And now, Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage, our star, James Mason, in Banquo's
Chair.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
That's how matters stood.
I refused to let my man arrest him.
But how in the world could he have murdered his aunt while he was in jail?
Well, he might have bribed the prison guard to let him out for an hour.
You're right, Roberta.
I believe that's exactly what he did.
Unfortunately, the guard in question died of pneumonia soon afterwards and left us no
further source of evidence.
Well, as far as I can see, Sir William, you haven't a leg to stand on.
You can't touch Bedford.
Every man, particularly a criminal, has an Achilles heel.
I sat down at my desk and plotted him out on paper.
I decided I didn't know enough about him, his personal habits, his real character.
A month ago, I went to visit him.
Sir William, what a surprise.
Want to invite me in?
Oh, of course, sir.
Please come in.
Thank you, Mr. Bedford.
Well, I'm really honored to have the great man pay me a visit.
You're not after any more clues, I hope.
It does get rather tedious, though, with you.
Oh, no.
No, not at all.
I know when I'm beaten.
Well, I don't want to appear smug, sir, but everyone has his water, Luke.
Would you have a drink, Sir William?
Thank you.
I don't know whether you've heard that I have resigned from the criminal investigation.
I'm a private citizen now.
Oh, yes, I heard something about that.
I couldn't believe it.
Oh, it wasn't my love for justice that made me pursue my profession with such tenacity
and success, with the sole exception of your case, of course.
It was a game of skill with me, my wits against all comers.
I lost in your case, but then we all have to lose sometimes, don't we?
I don't believe you, Sir William.
You're still out to get me.
There isn't much chance, is there?
I'm afraid not, Sir William.
I've kept out of trouble so far, knock on wood.
I had no idea you were superstitious, Mr. Bedford, a sophisticate like you.
Oh, I think it's just a habit since I was a child.
I see.
Now, before I go, there's just one thing.
I noticed in the papers that you're looking for a tenant for a carried house.
Oh, yes, I am.
I'd like to rent it.
The scene of the crime?
Of course, why not?
There's no harm in it.
As a matter of fact, it's perfect.
And what's more, I'll let you have it very cheaply, for old time's sake.
I saw Bedford frequently.
Our acquaintance developed into friendship, an armed friendship, of course.
He knew I was out to get him, and I wanted him to know that.
But he was so pleased, so vain, that he bested me, that it gave him delight to see me.
And that's how I got to know him pretty well.
Fundamentally, he's superstitious and afraid.
He's uncomfortable in the dark.
He's an insomniac.
He finds himself utterly unable to read horror novels.
His sneering self-assurance is a mask for a nature that's subject to deathly fears.
Well, tonight is the anniversary of the murder, and tonight Mr. Bedford dines with us, at
eight o'clock.
I asked you two to be here early, so that we could have a talk.
It's nearly eight now.
Now, this is the plan.
You both know May Wakefield?
Shakespearean May Wakefield?
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Of course.
Wonderful.
The greatest Lady Macbeth I ever saw.
That's right.
Now, during dinner, she will enter the room in the precise likeness of Miss Ferguson,
the murdered woman.
We, of course, will pretend not to see her.
We will remain outwardly unconscious of her.
Only Bedford will be aware of her presence.
Hamlet, the play's the thing.
Exactly.
Now, during dinner, the electric light will be switched off at the main, and candles will
be lit.
We must have the correct atmosphere.
You understand now?
You are not to see Miss Wakefield.
She doesn't exist for us.
Is that clear?
I'll look right through her.
That will be Bedford.
Ah, my dear Mr. Bedford.
Good of you to come in this weather.
Well, I never miss a meeting with you, sir, William.
Oh, Lane, will you take Mr. Bedford's things?
Yes.
Miserable weather.
Oh, indeed.
This way to the dining room.
Thank you.
I almost forgot my way around in this ugly old place.
Perhaps you have unpleasant memories associated with Turret House.
Perhaps I have.
John Bedford looked us over with his characteristic arrogance and superiority.
I made the proper introductions, and then we all set out to dinner.
Is it still nasty outside, Mr. Bedford?
Oh, it's getting worse.
It looks as if we're in for a few days of this weather.
Too bad.
I'm thinking of doing some riding tomorrow.
The soup.
It is excellent.
Oh, yes, sir, William.
Your cook is to be congratulated.
The soup is a masterpiece.
Poor Alice.
She's been my cook for over 20 years, but she's given me notice.
Absolutely refuses to stay here any longer.
Why?
She says this house is haunted.
Roberta, this might make an interesting story for you.
You should speak to her.
She can give you a detailed description of the ghosts.
Alice swears that she's seen the figure of an elderly woman with finger marks on her
throat walking about the house.
Oh, come now, sir William.
This is just too good.
Such an obvious attempt to frighten me.
Sir William is convinced that I murdered my aunt.
No, please, sir William, a little more subtlety.
Surely I deserve it.
Perhaps, perhaps the cook did see the figure.
It might interest you to know, Mr. Bedford, that I don't believe in ghosts.
And I'm sure my cook never saw this elderly figure except in her frightened imagination.
I am afraid, sir, that your little attempt did not work.
But I must admire your graceful acknowledgement of its failure.
I suppose I should give up plaguing you, shouldn't I?
Oh, no, no, sir William, never give up.
I may have a weak spot somewhere you never can tell.
If at first you don't succeed, you know.
Do you, do you live far from here, Mr. Bedford?
Thank you, Miss Stern, there's really no need to change the subject.
I hope you find this game as amusing as I do.
I saw a very exciting play last night.
Hey, Mark.
Excuse me a moment.
It's really, really hot in here.
Do you mind, sir William, if we get a little fresh air?
I'm sorry, it is stuffy in here.
Elaine, open one of the windows, please.
Yes.
Hey, it is awful weather.
Simply awful.
Yes, I don't know how we will ever get home.
I can't stand this weather myself.
I think I'll go to the Riviera next week.
I'm always...
Oh.
Elaine, what on earth's wrong with the lights?
I don't know, sir.
Well, don't stand around.
Fetch some candles.
We can't sit here in the darkness.
And get the chauffeur.
He knows something about electric lights.
I'll call the chauffeur right away, sir.
I'm terribly sorry about this.
We've had trouble with the wiring before.
We'll have it fixed up in a few minutes.
Let's get on with our dinner.
Have some more wine, Mr. Bedford.
I've had enough.
Thank you.
It was a tense moment.
I looked at Roberta and Arthur.
They were both pale and uneasy.
And so was Bedford for all his poise.
I believe that the only calm person in the room was myself.
Oh, Mr. Bedford, you were saying something about visiting the Riviera.
It must be lovely at this time of year.
It is.
I've been there before.
You know, I...
What's the matter, Mr. Bedford?
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
I...
I wish we could have some more light.
It's rather difficult to see.
I'm really terribly sorry.
This had to happen just at dinner.
Please have a little more wine, Mr. Bedford.
No.
I didn't drink much.
The figure of a woman had entered the room.
She'd come in silently like a ghost.
It was done so softly, so skillfully, that her presence seemed completely unreal.
It was a superb entrance.
We all saw her, but we made no sign of recognition.
In the dim candlelight, she looked ghastly.
It was an incredible piece of makeup.
Bedford looked at all of us to see if we'd seen the figure standing a few feet away from
him.
He looked at us and said,
I'm going to go and see if you can see me.
I said, no, I'm going to go and see if you can see me.
I said, no, I'm going to go and see if you can see me.
I said, no, I'm going to go and see if you can see me.
Bedford looked at all of us to see if we'd seen the figure standing a few feet away from
him.
But we ate our dinner calmly.
He looked again, shook his head, and then gulped the wine in front of him.
Don't any of you see anything?
See what, Mr. Bedford?
You look perfectly well, what?
There she is, just as plain as...
What's got into you, Bedford?
It's my aunt.
My aunt!
You've had too much wine.
Your aunt is dead.
You're not seeing ghosts, I hope.
You're not seeing ghosts, I hope.
You're not seeing ghosts, I hope.
You're not seeing ghosts, I hope.
You're not seeing ghosts, I hope.
You're not seeing ghosts, I hope.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes, that's it.
I drank too much.
I'm not used to drinking.
You know?
Yes, yes, yes.
Why?
Yes, she... she's coming towards me.
Calm yourself, Bedford.
I've never seen you like this.
There's no one else here.
Do you see anyone, Roberta?
No, no, I don't see anyone.
No, neither do I.
I can't stand this.
I'm getting out of here.
I'm not wearing gloves today, John.
Look, she's real!
God, I didn't see her!
I can't hear her!
Let's come over here!
She... she's touching me!
She's touching me!
Get out, Bedford!
She's gone to the door!
She won't let me out!
I'm an old woman.
Money is no good for me.
I'm lonely, John.
Let me by, Aunt Martha!
Out of my way!
Out of my way!
Get away from that door!
I'm going to die!
Oh, my God!
I'm going to die!
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God!
Get away from that door!
I'll murder you again!
To hear Aunt Martha!
I'll kill you again, you old witch!
Please let me go!
All right, switch on the lights.
Officer Graham, come out.
Arrest him.
You heard his confession.
Sir, I did put the handcuffs on you.
I've got him, sir.
Well, Bedford, it seems that I've finally caught up with you.
I'll kill her again.
I'll kill her again.
I'll kill her again.
That wasn't your aunt.
That was May Wakefield.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
That was my aunt.
I did not answer.
I looked at the staring faces of Roberta and Arthur.
And then I turned away.
A vein in my temple began to throb.
I put my hand to it.
And it stopped.
I...
I think I'll have some wine.
No.
Len?
Yes, sir?
Fetch a bottle of brandy and pour three stiff drinks.
Better make it four.
I think you need one, too.
Suspense presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, James Mason.
Well, Hap, it's great to have you back.
Me and those 400 Auto Light products.
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Remember, you're always right with Auto Light.
Next Thursday for Suspense, our star will be Alan Land.
The play is called Motive for Murder and it is, as we say, a tale well calculated to keep
you in suspense.
Tonight's Suspense play was produced and edited by William Spear and directed by Norman MacDonald.
Music for Suspense is composed by Rene Garagank and Lucian Morawek and conducted by Lud Bluskin.
Franco's Chair was adapted for radio by Sigmund Miller from a short story by Rupert Croft
Cook.
James Mason can soon be seen in the Universal International Picture one-way street.
In the coming weeks, you will hear such stars as Ronald Reagan and Ginger Rogers.
Don't forget, next Thursday same time, Auto Light will present Suspense starring Alan
Land.
You can buy Auto Light resistor or regular spark plugs, Auto Light staple batteries,
Auto Light electrical parts at your neighborhood Auto Light dealer.
Switch to Auto Light.
Good night.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.