I fetched his body to reach it.
I waited until he had his back to me with his hands raised high in the air, reaching
for the window frame.
And I opened my purse, took out the gun, aimed very carefully at his spot just in the center
of his left shoulder blade, and pulled the trigger four times.
He didn't immediately fall.
He had his fingers over the window ledge, ready to unfasten the catch when the bullets hit
him.
With some terrible effort, he dug his nails into his stucco to keep himself from dying.
Once he tried to turn his face and look at me, but he hadn't that much life left.
At last he fell.
I bent and looked at my husband's body.
He was quite dead.
I wiped off the gun, his gun, and threw it behind an acacia bush.
And I walked back to the car slowly and carefully, removing any of my footprints which showed
in the loose dirt of the road.
I dusted my shoes and drove home.
I put the car in the garage and went in and had my shower, and lay down in the library
to wait.
A few minutes after the grandfather clock struck eleven, the telephone rang.
Hello?
Mrs. Skinner?
This is she.
This is Jonathan Brown at the sheriff's office.
I need to speak to you.
I'm sorry, I'm busy.
This is Jonathan Brown at the sheriff's office.
I have some bad news for you.
Oh, what is it?
Mr. Skinner, ma'am.
He's been killed.
Mrs. Skinner?
Hello, Mrs. Skinner?
Are you all right?
I waited quietly for a moment, then I let the phone fall to the floor.
Mrs. Skinner?
I listened until I heard Jonathan Brown hang up, at which time I replaced my telephone
on its stand, and went into the kitchen for some ice, which I put in a large Turkish towel.
I then arranged myself on the living room divan, and again waited.
Mrs. Skinner?
In here, please.
Oh, oh yes, thank you.
Are you all right, Mrs. Skinner?
What was this stupid thing for me to do, breaking the news that way, you know?
I'm all right.
I came over as soon as you, well, you know, dropped the phone.
I felt faint suddenly.
And no wonder.
Tell me what happened, Mr.
Brown, Jonathan Brown from the sheriff's office.
Mr. Brown, please sit down.
Oh, thank you.
Well, your husband was up at the Johnson house this afternoon, as well as we can figure,
up there on the side of the mountain, you know.
He must have been trying to get into the window, and somehow somebody, well, shot him.
Sure you want me to tell you?
I'm sorry.
Go, go on, please.
We looked around the place, couldn't see anything, although we found the, you know, weapon.
It was a gun.
Found it in the brush near where he was, no footprints or anything.
To think that my husband shot him.
There, there, there.
Terrible shock.
There now.
Thank you.
I'll be all right.
Oh, don't you worry about a thing, Mrs. Skinner.
The best thing for you to do right now is rest and take it easy.
Thank you for your help.
You've been most kind.
The only thing I think you'll have to do will be make an appearance at the coroner's inquest,
unless you're still not feeling well, you know.
In which case, I guess, maybe you shouldn't be there.
Oh, no.
No, thank you, Mr. Brown.
You let me know when you need me, and I'll be there.
I slept very well that night.
How much better a position I would hold as the tragic widow and as the discarded wife
of a successful man.
The next few days, a few photographers and newspaper men called, but they were kind and
gentle and didn't make too much bother.
Finally, Mr. Jonathan Brown called to say that he would send a car for me on Friday
morning.
The next day, as it turned out, to take me to the coroner's inquest.
The small courtroom was crowded, and almost everyone there eyed me with great sympathy.
The inquest proceeded evenly, and there was as yet no evidence as to the identity of my
husband's murderer.
I have had this blackboard brought into court so that I might show the position of the body
when found.
I think it might be of interest.
Proceed.
Now, the body was found just below the first story window on the left side of the house.
The dead man was obviously trying to gain admittance, you know.
He didn't die immediately, as I will show you, but stayed alive long enough to try to
keep himself from falling, since marks from each of his fingernails were found running
down the side of the building.
Here, then, is the window sill.
Here are the marks of his fingernails, and here is the spot where the body lay when it
was discovered.
As he talked, he watched me do this, Mr. Brown.
And I didn't know why until I heard the first scrape of the chalk against the blackboard.
For one awful moment, it was the sound that had been made by my husband, as he tried so
desperately to hold himself alive.
I found myself tightly clutching the wooden table in front of me.
My arms and body tense, trying not to faint.
Now, since a large deposit of the dried stucco from the building was found under each of
the victim's fingernails, I believe I can best illustrate the manner of the victim's
last moments with a physical illustration.
Now, suppose I am the victim, you know, and this blackboard is the side of the building.
We hear gunshots, and then the victim slowly sinks to the ground.
Please don't make that noise.
Auto Light is bringing you Miss Ann Baxter with Joseph Kearns in the 13th sound.
Tonight's production in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
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And now Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage, Miss Ann Baxter in Elliot Lewis's
production of The Thirteenth Sound, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I must have been taken home from the inquest, for the next consciousness I had was lying
on my bed.
The house was quiet.
Off to one side of the room, an old pipe hanging from between his teeth, sat Mr. Jonathan Brown
from the sheriff's office.
Feeling better?
Oh, thank you.
I'm terribly sorry to have...
Oh, that's all right.
I thought maybe you better not go, you know.
It's quite a strain.
Yes, it was quite a strain.
Corner asked whether it'd be all right to go on without you.
Everyone seemed agreed, you know, so we finished up while the doc looked you over.
What happened?
He said you'd be all right.
Shock.
No, no, I meant about my husband.
It is death at the hand of person or person's unknown, you know.
Is there anything further I must do?
Not a thing, Mrs. Skinner.
Oh, you've been very kind.
Well, it's a terrible thing happened to you.
I'll be going now.
If there's nothing more you need from me.
Oh, nothing, thank you.
Well, goodbye then.
And don't you worry.
We'll find who did it, you know.
After he had left, I had the time to be angry at myself for my behavior at the inquest.
What must the people have thought?
To faint only from the noise of a piece of chalk on a blackboard.
I wondered if Mr. Brown had suspected anything because, as I remembered, he'd been watching
me as he drew those silly little diagrams on the board.
He hadn't been looking anywhere else.
Not at the coroner, or any of the reporters, or even at what he was doing.
He had been looking at me.
Well, of course he was looking at me.
He was showing his sympathy.
I slowly allowed myself to return to my former position in the community.
And as I'd anticipated, I was greeted with respect and admiration.
Poor dear Mrs. Skinner.
How tragic.
The first evening I accepted an invitation was five weeks after my husband's death for
bridge at the country club.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
I wonder if you'd forgive me.
By something wrong, Melissa?
I have a terrible headache.
I'm afraid I've strained my eyes.
Oh, my dear, why don't you lie down for a few minutes?
If you wouldn't mind.
Why not at all?
Would you care for an aspirin tablet, Melissa?
Thank you, no.
If I could just lie down.
I told you that you needed new glasses.
Now I suppose you'll get them.
Locking the bar.
I'll get you comfortably settled.
Oh, don't bother, please.
You go right ahead with your game.
I'm sorry to be such a nuisance.
Oh, poor dear.
That is uncomfortable.
There's something it don't pay to neglect.
Your eyes, you know.
Mr. Brown.
Good evening.
I didn't see you come in.
You know these...
Oh, sure.
Good evening, Mr. Greg, Mrs. Greg.
Good evening, Mr. Brown.
Would you object to a new partner?
Considered a fairly good wisp,
pinnacle and bridge man?
We'd be delighted, Mr. Brown.
Please join us.
Yes, please do.
Yes, very kind of you.
No sense starting a new game.
I'll just pick up where the lady went away.
Splendid.
Then I believe it's my deal.
I hope I deal myself a good hand.
I've had atrocious luck all evening.
Maybe I can change it for you.
Maybe you can.
Incidentally, Mrs. Skinner,
I always meant to ask you whether or not you minded noises, especially.
Sharp noises like, say, chalk on a blackboard.
I don't understand.
Chalk on a blackboard?
At the inquest, I always wondered about it.
You fainted just when the chalk was scratching across the blackboard.
I don't remember hearing it.
I'm afraid I fainted before you drew any diagrams.
I assume that's what you were planning to do, draw diagrams.
That's what I was planning to do.
Yes, ma'am.
Yes.
There we are.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Let me...
That's all right.
I can reach them.
I...
Something wrong, Mrs. Skinner?
I didn't...
Again, it happened.
And again, as the noise was made, it sounded to me like my husband's fingernails sliding
down the rough side of the Johnson house.
And again, as I slipped into darkness, I could see that Mr. Brown was watching me.
I stayed at home for the next few days.
I canceled all appointments.
By Friday of that week, the musical group of which I was chairman was giving a concert
of chamber music, which I had to attend.
I went to the musical alone, studying my program when Mr. Jonathan Brown entered.
I tried to avoid his eyes, but he came directly over to where I was sitting and took the place
immediately next to me.
Is his seat taken?
Oh, good evening, Mr. Brown.
Mrs. Skinner, well, good evening.
I didn't recognize you, you know.
I was to be joined later.
Oh, I'll just sit here a moment then.
You know, I'm terribly sorry about the other night.
There's really nothing at all for you to be sorry about.
It's very kind of you to say that, you know, but I do feel guilty as all sin being the
cause of your getting sick.
Well, really, Mr. Brown, I wasn't sick at all.
I was very close at the club that night, if you remember.
Yes, ma'am, it was.
Well, just so I don't feel it was my fault, you know.
No, I don't want you to feel it.
It was your fault.
Well, that's very kind of you, you know.
Oh, if you don't mind, I'll stay till whoever holds this seat gets here.
That's quite all right.
Thank you.
Thank you, and welcome.
We crave your indulgence and a certain open-mindedness for giving a fair chance to the first piece
with which we're going to open our program this evening.
The title of this piece is The Thirteenth Sound, and the composer is Julian Carrillo.
Now, this piece is what you call, I guess, modern music, and the really unusual thing
about it is that the instruments play in quarter tones.
Now, a quarter tone is somewhere in between the other tones, like we're accustomed to
hearing.
So, on this following piece, the instruments are not playing like you would think out of
tune.
This is the way it's supposed to sound.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Well, tune up, Jim.
This should be very interesting, don't you think, Mrs. Skinner?
The thirteenth sound.
Have you heard it?
Oh, what?
No.
No, no, I haven't.
Too hot again, Mrs. Skinner?
It does get stuffy in here, you know.
I'm all right.
It's hot in here.
Oh, you know, it's hot in here.
Oh, you look terribly peaked.
You sure you're all right?
I'm quite all... excuse me.
I left Mr. Brown sitting on the rented folding chair.
My man drove me home.
I've never liked modern music.
I locked all the doors and I turned on all the lights, and I did a foolish thing.
I found a hammer and a piece of board, and I beat on the board with a hammer as hard as
I could, and finally the heavy, steady pounding that I made drove the other sharp, shrill,
awful noise from my mind.
And I turned out all the lights, opened the windows, and went to sleep.
I didn't sleep well, but I didn't stay awake either.
I hadn't set the alarm next to my bed when I first awoke the next morning.
For a minute I couldn't remember what had happened.
I felt drugged, and I heard the gardener mowing my lawn, and I looked around my room and saw
all my familiar possessions.
It had been the heat both times that I had fainted it had been close in the room, and
the first time it had happened at the inquest, I'd been overwrought and disturbed.
Anyone would have fainted at her husband's inquest.
There was nothing strange about that.
I looked at his picture on my dressing table.
He looked so smug and safe.
How happy I was to be rid of him.
I got out of bed and put on a lovely chartreuse brocade housecoat I'd just gotten, and went
downstairs.
And then I heard...
What?
I didn't know.
I didn't care.
I knew only that I had to stop it before it happened to me again.
Stop it!
Please stop it!
Pardon me, Mrs. Skinner.
Get out of here.
Who told you to do your work here?
Did someone tell you to make that noise near my house?
No, ma'am.
The lawnmower wasn't cutting.
I had to sharpen it.
Get out!
Go on, get out of this property at once!
Yes, ma'am.
Yes, ma'am.
Go on, don't ever come back, you hear?
Don't ever come back!
Good morning, Mrs. Skinner.
It's a lovely day.
I turned and ran back to my living room.
I was still shivering there in the beam of sunlight.
I waited for him to come bursting into the room after me.
I waited, but nothing happened.
No one came into the house.
I turned and looked.
Mr. Brown was walking slowly out my front gate.
His shoulders seemed a little more stoop than usual, but he was leaving.
I went up to my room.
I knew what I must do.
I carefully packed all my clothes because I was going away.
Halfway through my packing, I went downstairs for my coffee and then the doorbell rang.
Who is it?
It's Miss Greg.
Oh, just a moment.
Come in.
Did I disturb you?
No, not at all.
Well, then I will come in, but I can only stay a minute.
Would you like some coffee?
Oh, no, thank you.
When I was so sick, you remember, the doctor absolutely forbade me having any more coffee.
I didn't know that.
Sit down, please.
Um, do you drink much coffee?
Why do you ask?
I thought perhaps one of your recent attacks might have been caused by that.
Mr. Greg is an exponent of aspirin and salt tablets.
I think it's much simpler than that.
Just cut out the coffee.
I think my attacks were just caused by this heat.
I'm planning to go away where it's cooler.
Oh, how splendid.
That will certainly help you.
Um, I don't mean to be disrespectful, heaven knows, but perhaps you might meet a fine young
man who will...
Perhaps.
Uh, when do you plan to leave?
Tomorrow morning.
I'm leaving for New York.
Oh, that's terrible.
I beg your pardon?
Oh, the clubhouse.
The unveiling ceremonies are the day after tomorrow.
We assumed that you'd be there for the ceremonies.
Oh, I'd forgotten.
And you simply can't leave.
Why, I don't even know what we'd do without you.
The day after tomorrow?
You'd really need almost all that time to properly pack.
And we have no one who can replace you on the speaker's platform.
All right then, Mrs. Gregor.
I'll stay for the ceremonies.
So I put off my trip.
I packed carefully for it and stayed at home for the two days.
I made my reservations and prepared to close my house.
The day of the unveiling, I ordered my bags sent to the station, in direction to the care
taker, and then drove to the new clubhouse with Mr. and Mrs. Gregor.
The building was really very lovely.
It was almost ready for occupancy.
This day we were unveiling an heroic figure which graced the entrance way.
Isn't this exciting?
Yes, very.
You ladies have done a marvelous job.
Oh, thank you.
What's that fellow doing up there?
Up where?
Oh, see?
Up on the roof.
The workman?
Oh, yes.
It makes me nervous to see people at such heights.
He is awfully close to the edge.
Oh, he knows his business, I imagine.
Yes.
I'm very anxious to hear your little talk, Mrs. Skinner.
Thank you.
Well, I think we should get on with it, eh?
Why, I believe it'll only be a few more minutes.
No, no.
Of what?
What?
What is it?
Good heavens, look.
That workman, he's gonna fall.
Can't someone catch him?
He's hanging on to that rope.
Some of the men are running up there now.
No, they've got to catch him.
They will.
They will.
No, no, no.
Oh, he's falling.
I did it.
What?
I did it.
Nonsense, Mrs. Skinner.
You had nothing to do with it.
I did it.
I killed him.
I did it.
Oh, you don't know what you're saying.
You're upset.
I did it.
I killed him.
I did it.
Mrs. Skinner, let me take you home.
You're not well.
I killed him.
Let me take you home, Mrs. Skinner.
I killed him.
Listen to me.
Don't you understand?
I understand.
I killed him, Mr. Braheck.
Stop that noise.
Can't you hear it?
I killed him.
I killed him.
I know.
I know, ma'am.
I killed him.
It's going to be all right, you know.
You just come along with me.
Do you sign it, Jonathan?
You're not gonna sign it, Jonathan?
Uh-huh.
Shame.
Yeah. People do funny things.
Yeah.
Did you pay the fella?
Uh-huh. He's very clever.
Sure is.
I really thought he was falling off that building.
He used to be an acrobat.
Yeah.
How'd he make that noise?
He was holding ten penny nails in his hand.
Scraped them along the face of the building as he slid down the road.
He's an awful raggot.
Uh-huh.
How pity.
Nice lady, you know.
Yeah.
What the devil are you doing?
Huh?
Fixing my nails, I guess.
Well, cut it out, will ya?
Sure.
What's the matter with you?
That noise makes me nervous, I guess.
You know?
Suspense.
Presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, Miss Anne Baxter.
Friends, this is Harlow Wilcox again.
To remind you that Auto Light is the world's largest independent manufacturer of automotive electrical equipment.
In 28 plants from coast to coast, Auto Light makes over 400 products for cars, trucks, planes, and boats,
including famous Auto Light stay-full batteries carried by your neighborhood Auto Light battery dealer.
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the battery that needs water only three times a year in normal car use.
And remember, you're always right with Auto Light.
Next week on Suspense, our star will be Miss Rosalind Russell in When the Bough Breaks.
And in weeks to come, you will hear such famous stars as Phil Harris and Alice Fay, Charles Boyer and Jeff Chandler,
all on Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis with music composed by Lucien Moroweck and conducted by Lud Bluskin.
The 13th sound was written for Suspense by Elliot and Kathy Lewis.
In tonight's cast, Joseph Kearns was heard as Mr. Brown, Florence Bates as Mrs. Gregg, and Norman Field as Mr. Gregg.
Others in the cast were Howard McNear, Sarah Selby, Anthony Barrett, Jim Nusser, and John Stevenson.
Our sincere thanks to 20th Century Fox Studios who made possible Ann Baxter's appearance tonight.
Watch for Miss Baxter's appearance in that studio's forthcoming production, Follow the Sun.
And remember, next week on Suspense, Miss Rosalind Russell as a woman who holds death over her husband's head,
a tale we call When the Bough Breaks.
You can buy autolite staple batteries, autolite standard type or resistor type spark plugs, autolite electrical parts at your neighborhood autolite dealers.
Switch to autolite. Good night.
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