Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present Suspense.
Tonight, Auto Light brings you a story of treachery and greed.
A story we call Murder in G Flat, starring Mr. Jack Benny.
The
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And now with murder in G-flat and the transcribed performance of Mr. Jack Benny,
Auto Light hopes once again to keep you in suspense.
Oh, Lieutenant, in here, sir, in the rec hall.
What's he doing in the rec hall?
Well, he thought he'd tune the piano while he was waiting, Lieutenant.
Sunday night. Why couldn't you guys pick a better night than Sunday night?
My one day off, and I have to come down here.
Sorry we had to call you, Joe.
This is the guy, huh?
Yeah. Hey, you.
That's it. C-flat. I had my wrench.
This is the Lieutenant.
Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, Lieutenant.
Name?
Oh. My name is Remington. Hercules Remington.
That's it, Joe. We checked.
Pardon me, Lieutenant, but my wife Martha is going to be awfully worried.
You see, I haven't seen her since this morning.
They told me...
You haven't seen your wife since this morning?
No, and I thought that if I could phone her and at least tell her where I am...
Where'd you pick him up?
Coney Island, Joe. He called us from there.
Yes, and I should have called my wife, too.
Look, Lieutenant, I don't want to seem persistent about this.
Well, I have plenty of time later to call your wife.
Now, give the Lieutenant the story in detail,
just like you told it to me on the way down here to the station.
What kind of work do you do, Remington?
Well, I'm a piano tuner, Lieutenant.
Yours is out of tune.
C-flat, Lieutenant.
See, if I could get my bag, I'd tune this.
Look, Remington, I haven't got all night.
Now, either get on with your story or I'll have...
All right, Lieutenant.
But...but I really would like to call my wife first.
Start your story.
All right. All right.
If there's any explaining to be done to my wife, you guys will have to do it.
We'll be happy to. Now, go ahead.
Yes, sir.
Well, Lieutenant, this whole mess started yesterday morning, Saturday.
I got up, had breakfast with my wife Martha and my Uncle Herman.
He's my black sheep uncle of the family.
He's a carnival man, came to work at the World's Fair here,
and has been living with us ever since.
I think he ought to pay at least one-third of the rent,
but Martha, well, she feels sorry for him.
Anyway, I left the house around 10 o'clock
on my way to the Lipenridge School of Music.
I usually tune their pianos on the first Saturday of the month,
you see, because there aren't any classes there on that Saturday.
I catch the BMT at 57th and get off at Union Square.
Well, yesterday morning I got on the subway, just like I always do.
I carry a little ordinary brown bag with all my tools in it
and usually lay it right next to me under the seat.
I was just sitting there thinking hard,
wondering how I was going to meet the bills at the end of the month
when a man sat down next to me.
He shoved something under the seat and just sat there staring ahead.
B flat, B flat, B flat, B flat, B flat, B flat.
I beg your pardon.
Oh, oh, oh, I'm sorry.
I guess I got carried away for a moment.
Four stops later, the man got up, reached under the seat,
pulled out a little brown bag and started for the door.
I remember noticing he was bald-headed and wearing big black horn-rimmed glasses.
For a minute I thought he'd stolen my bag of tools,
but I reached my hand under the seat and found my bag was still there.
I remember sort of chucking to myself,
thinking of the coincidence that he'd been carrying the same type of bag.
Well, anyway, I got off at Union Square and walked up to the Lippenridge School of Music on 14th.
There are four floors there, you know, a piano on each floor.
I usually start at the top and work my way down.
Well, since the school doesn't have any classes on Saturday, the place was deserted.
Hmm, that one's sour.
Yeah, D flat.
I'll soon have that in shape.
What the?
I zipped open my bag to take out my tuning hammer and my wedges,
but there were no tools in my bag.
The tools were gone and in their place were bundles and bundles of crisp ten dollar bills.
And then it hit me.
A little bald headed man on the subway.
The man sat down next to me.
This bag belonged to him.
He picked up mine by mistake.
There was no name on the bag, no identification of any kind.
I started counting one of the bundles.
Each bundle contained one thousand dollars and ten dollar bills and there were twenty five bundles.
I had just come here to twenty five thousand dollars.
When I got home, Martha was washing some clothes out on the back porch and
Uncle Herman was rolling pennies for his pitchpenny concession.
I called both of them into the living room, pulled all the shades down,
closed and locked all the doors and set the bag on the table.
Hercules, what are you doing back home so soon?
What kind of nonsense is this, nephew?
Martha, Uncle Herman.
You look awful pale.
I guess I do.
Hercules, what's the matter with you?
Listen to me, both of you.
I... I'm rich.
Oh, for heaven's sakes, Hercules, act your age.
I'm not lying to you.
Look, I gotta get out soon.
Well, you must be sick.
Look, will both of you be quiet for just a minute?
Sounds like he's drunk.
Are you sick, Hercules?
Look, I'm not sick and I'm not drunk.
I've got it right here.
You've got what?
Look.
Wow.
Hercules.
Now do you believe me?
Now do you believe I'm not sick or drunk?
Look at it.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
Twenty-five thousand dollars?
That's a lot of money.
Hercules.
Hercules, where'd you get all this money?
I found it.
Found it.
Found it?
Yes.
I...
Listen to me, Hercules Remington, don't you lie to me.
Where'd you get all that money?
I told you, Martha, I...
I found it.
I haven't lived with you for ten years for nothing.
I know when you're lying to me.
Now tell me, where'd you get all this money?
Okay, if I tell you the truth, I...
I know you won't believe me.
Well, tell me anyway.
Well, all right.
Look, this morning I got on the subway, just like I always do.
Some little ball-headed man with black horn-rimmed glasses sat down next to me.
When he got up to get off the subway, I noticed he was carrying a brown bag, just like mine.
At first I thought it was mine.
But mine was still under the seat.
Anyway, when I got to the music school, I opened my bag and...
and all this money was in it.
Sounds fantastic.
Hercules.
But it's the truth.
The little man picked up my bag by mistake.
I searched this one for some identification, but there isn't any.
Then...
Then you mean the little ball-headed man has your bag with the tooth in it.
I guess he does.
It seems odd that anyone would be carrying this much money around in a little brown bag.
Odd or not, the fact still remains that I didn't steal it.
Well, I guess there isn't any way that you could get a hold of this man, so...
we'll just have to turn the money over to the police.
The...
The police?
Yes, I said the police.
But... but why?
Why?
Good heavens, Hercules, you don't expect to keep this money.
Why not?
Which isn't ours.
Why? Why isn't it ours?
I found it. I didn't steal it, Martha.
Hercules.
Martha, don't you see? Maybe this is fate.
Maybe we were meant to have this money.
Maybe if we just...
You're crazy. You're out of your head.
You're talking like a madman and I won't have it.
But Martha...
You didn't come by this money, honestly. It isn't legally yours.
Now, wait a minute, Martha. Maybe Hercules is a little...
Now, you stay out of this, Uncle Herman.
Hercules, you're going to take this money to the police.
No.
No, I'm not.
I'm not going to take this to the police or anyone else.
Do you understand me?
I'm not going to take this money to the police.
Hercules, I don't understand you at all.
But mark my words, you'll pay for this.
Well...
Don't pay no attention to her, nephew.
But why does she have to be that way?
Why can't she understand me just this once?
Why can't she see my side of it?
See, I didn't steal this money.
No, you didn't, nephew.
Then I'm going to keep it.
Sure you are, nephew. Sure you are.
You're going to keep it.
You bet I am.
The next morning, that was this morning, Sunday,
Martha wouldn't speak to me at all.
Her eyes were all red and puffed up.
I could see that she'd been crying.
Uncle Herman wasn't doing much talking either.
Martha just kept sniffling as she puttered around the stove.
Martha, my peach isn't peeled.
Peel it yourself.
But I...
Here, I'll peel it for you, nephew.
Thanks, Uncle Herman.
Martha, please, won't you try...
Don't you talk to me.
No, don't be too hard on him, Martha.
After all, a man's got a right.
I told you once, Uncle Herman, you stay out of this.
It's none of your business.
Sorry.
She's plenty mad.
Well, ain't you going to answer the phone?
Hello?
Uh, Mr. Remington?
Yes?
Hercules Remington?
Yes, who is this, please?
I, uh...
I want to return you a bag of piano duels to you, Mr. Remington.
I...
I believe there was a slight mix-up.
I believe in my haste, I picked up your bag instead.
But...
But how did you find me?
I mean...
Oh, it was quite simple.
There's only one piano tuner with the initials H.R. in New York City.
Well...
Well, what do you know?
You do want your piano tools back, don't you, Mr. Remington?
Listen to me...
I don't think you'd like the idea of not being able to tune any more pianos.
Why?
And I'd like to have my bag returned.
Of course.
As soon as possible.
Yes.
Tonight.
Tonight?
At 9.30 tonight, meet me at Madison Square Garden.
Madison Square Garden?
At 9.30, at the 49th Street entrance.
The door on the far end will be left slightly open.
And, uh, please be prompt, Mr. Remington, with my brown bag.
You see, it will displease my business partner considerably if he finds I've lost the bag.
All right.
The 49th Street entrance, the door on the far end.
Hercules, what's wrong?
You're as white as a ghost.
I am?
You sure are.
I guess I should be.
That was the little bald-headed man with horn-rimmed glasses, Uncle Herman.
I've just lost $25,000.
Uncle Herman went in the living room to read the Sunday paper.
I went in the bedroom to tell Martha about the phone call.
But she wasn't there.
In fact, she wasn't anywhere in the house.
She was gone, and I figured that she'd probably gone over to her sister's house.
I was so nervous the rest of the afternoon I couldn't eat a thing.
I left the house for Madison Square Garden about nine o'clock,
from Riches to Rags in about 24 hours, and I was back riding the subway.
I walked up 8th Avenue to the garden.
I turned and walked up 49th Street to the entrance and stopped.
Sure enough, one of the doors on the far end was open a little,
just as the little man had told me it would be.
I slipped in through the open door.
It was pitch black.
I couldn't see a thing.
Hello?
Hello?
Anybody here?
Hello?
Is there anyone here?
What the?
I stumbled over something and almost fell.
I struck a match and looked down at a body,
the body of the little man in horn-rimmed glasses.
His head was all covered with blood.
I started to blow out the match, and then something caught my eye.
Lying next to his body was my brown bag with the initials H.R.
And next to the bag, covered with blood,
was my tuning hammer.
Auto Light is bringing you Mr. Jack Benny in Murder in G-Flat,
tonight's production in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Senor Wilcox, why does the Auto Light Stay Full battery need water
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And now Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage Mr. Jack Benny
in Elliot Lewis's production of Murder in G Flat.
A tale well calculated to keep you in...
...suscend.
Please lieutenant, may I call my wife? I want...
Finish your story first Mr. Remington, you can call her after that.
Oh, alright.
Now you were standing over the body of this man in Madison Square Garden.
You found your tuning hammer next to the body.
Yes, yes my tuning hammer.
Let me tell you lieutenant, I was scared, plenty scared.
Here I was standing over a dead man in Madison Square Garden
and clutch in my hand was his brown bag containing $25,000.
Who would kill him? Who would...
But I couldn't stop to think about that now, I had to get out of there and fast
and take my bag and hammer lying on the floor with me.
I started to reach for my bag when...
A sound G flat, someone had opened up a knife.
Whoever was coming toward me, I blew out the match and waited.
Who was in that corridor with me?
Was it the business partner of the little man?
Was it...I started to move backwards and then a big black figure loomed up at me.
With all my strength I brought the brown bag swinging up from the floor.
I ran until I thought my legs were done.
My mind was all fogged up now.
I couldn't think straight.
Who was the guy who just tried to kill me?
One thing I knew for sure, I had to get rid of this money until I could think things out.
But where? Where could I get rid of it?
I neared the corner of 59th and 8th Avenue and then saw it.
A bus terminal. Why not?
A public locker in the bus station.
I opened the door and walked in.
Stratton, Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, leaving in 10 minutes.
Yes, man, in about 20 minutes.
Excuse me, mister, I'd like to have a key for a locker.
Just a second.
G sharp.
What did you say?
Oh, nothing.
What do you know? I haven't got an empty one right now.
Have to wait a little while.
You mean out of all of these hundreds of lockers you haven't got one empty?
I'm sorry, mister, but you can see for yourself.
A lot of servicemen in town over the weekend.
Well, how long will it be?
Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe a couple of hours.
Okay, I'll wait. I'll sit over there.
I bought a paper at the newsstand and sat down on one of the benches.
I didn't even know what I was reading.
I just kept... and then I saw it.
On page two.
A complete account of a robbery that had occurred on Friday night in one of the downtown post offices.
Two bandits had escaped with $25,000 in ten dollar bills.
This was it. It must have been.
But would the police believe a story like that? Of course they wouldn't.
I had the money and it was my tuning hammer there, lying next to the body in the garden.
I got out of that bus tournament in a hurry and walked up 8th Avenue.
Where could I go? The only place I could think of was Coney Island.
Coney Island and Uncle Herman and his pitchpenny concession.
It was late and the island amusement park was almost deserted.
It was cold and close to eleven.
Uncle Herman was leaning against the side of his concession as I walked up.
What? My nephew?
What are you doing out this way?
Uncle Herman, quick, let's go in back.
All right. There ain't no customers anyway.
Yeah.
Now, what happened, Hercules? Did you give the money back to the man?
I went to meet him at the garden, just like he told me.
But when I got there and I found him, he was dead.
Dead?
He'd been beat over the head with my tuning hammer.
Why, Hercules.
I was just about to grab my hammer and bag and get out of there when someone made a lunge at me in the dark.
But I got away. I went to a bus terminal to put the money in a locker.
I had to wait. And then I read that the money is stolen post office money.
Oh, you got yourself in a mess, nephew.
I'm frantic. I don't know what to do. That's why I came here.
Well, I'm glad you did, nephew. Glad you did.
But what am I going to do?
The best thing would be to go back and get that hammer and bag.
Leave the money here. I'll hide it for you.
But maybe I ought to go to the police.
You can't go to the police with that story. They'd never believe you, Hercules.
I know. I know.
Now bring your bag and come with me, nephew.
I've got a hiding place for that money that no one will ever find.
Uncle Herman locked his place up and then he led me over to the fun house.
It was closed now and the place was all dark.
But Uncle Herman had a key.
He led me up some stairs to a high ramp that people climb on, you know, to slide down the big chute.
He stopped at one of them.
Here, nephew, right under this top chute we'll just pry one of the boards loose a little and slip the bag with the money underneath.
No one in the world will ever look for it.
There we are.
Now, give me the bag, nephew.
Here you are, Uncle Herman.
Are you sure that no one will find it here?
Absolutely, nephew. You and I are the only ones who know where it is.
I...
There's nothing to be afraid of.
Now, hand me the bag.
Here you are.
That's it.
Now, let's just check to make sure that...
What's the matter, Uncle Herman?
Where's the money, nephew?
The money? What are you talking about?
It's in the...
Is this what you call money?
Well, this bag's got nothing in it but bundles of torn newspaper.
I don't understand.
Hercules, dear nephew, what did you do with the money?
I don't know. It was in there. You saw it yourself when I brought it home.
Is this a scheme of yours, Hercules?
Scheme?
Trying to cheat on your dear old uncle, aren't you, Hercules?
Uncle Herman, what are you talking about?
Where's the money, Hercules?
She flat. That knife. She flat.
This ain't no time to play games with your Uncle Herman, Hercules.
Uncle Herman.
Where were you tonight?
What's that, Hercules?
G flat. Your knife. It's G flat.
Looks like this thing has got you going, Hercules.
It was you in the garden, wasn't it, Uncle Herman?
You killed him.
Let's not waste any more time, nephew.
Now, tell me where that money is.
I don't know.
Stop lying to your dear uncle, Hercules.
I'm not lying.
I usually use this knife to scale fish.
The smell of fish is stronger than the smell of blood.
But I tell you, I don't know where that money is.
You're lying to me.
You came down here just to throw me off, didn't you?
Make me think you lost the money.
Uncle Herman, stay away from me.
All right, Hercules.
So you won't tell your dear uncle.
He rushed at me with the knife.
I stepped back, tripped over the board.
He had flied loose and fell down.
But Uncle Herman...
Ah!
He went hurtling over me, head over heels, down the long slide.
And I got back down at the bottom of the slide chute.
He was dead.
The uncle had his neck broken, Lieutenant.
Yeah. What about the money?
Well, Mr. Remington's wife turned it over to the authorities this morning,
about 11 o'clock.
She said the money wasn't his, and she didn't want him carrying it around.
Well, I guess that'll be all, Mr. Remington.
You can go now.
But isn't it dangerous?
I mean, the partner is still...
We picked up his business partner a few hours after the robbery.
Oh.
But just in case you happen to come across another $25,000
that doesn't belong to you,
promise me that you'll get in touch with the authorities,
will you, Mr. Remington?
Oh, I've learned my lesson, Lieutenant.
Believe you me, I have.
Oh, for heaven's sakes, I almost forgot.
I've got to call my wife.
She's probably frantic by now.
There's a payphone right outside in the corridor.
Payphone?
Yeah, right around the corner.
You can't miss it.
Hmm.
Well, she's waited this long.
I'll just tell her when I get home.
Suspense.
Presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, Mr. Jack Benny.
Ah, fine meal, Pepito. So long.
Hey, no dessert, Senor Wilcox.
I never desert, Pepito.
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Next week on Suspense, our stars will be Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz
in Early to Death.
And in weeks to come, you will hear such famous stars as James Stewart,
Anne Baxter, and Rosalind Russell.
All on Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis,
with music composed by Lucian Morrowek
and conducted by Lutte Bluskin.
Murder in G-Flat was written for Suspense
by Richard George Pedicini.
Portions of this program were transcribed.
In tonight's cast, Joseph Kearns was heard as Uncle Herman,
Lee Benadera as Martha, and Larry Thor as the Lieutenant.
Others in the cast were Clayton Post, Jack Crushen, and Paul Fries.
Jack Benny may be heard each Sunday on CBS
on his own radio program, The Jack Benny Show.
And remember next week on Suspense,
Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz
in a story about a mysterious airplane crash
in the mountains of Mexico.
A tale we call Early to Death.
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