Auto Light and its 98,000 dealers bring you Mr. Herbert Marshall.
In tonight's presentation of Suspense.
Tonight, Auto Light presents part one of the most famous of all literary puzzles, Charles
Dickens' unfinished novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drew, our star Mr. Herbert Marshall.
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And now, auto light presents Charles Dickens' The Mystery of Edwin Drew, starring Mr. Herbert
Marshall, hoping once again to keep you in suspense.
This is the last night I have to live, and I will set down the naked truth without disguise.
I was never a brave man, but the task comes without much difficulty.
I can speak of myself as if I had already passed from the world.
For while I write this, my grave is digging, and my name is inscribed in the Black Book
of Death.
It was in the organ loft of the assembly hall at Toystrom College where I first began to
learn how a man's mind can become a thing of horrible wonder, apart, arriving tormenting,
beyond his poor power to control.
I'd gone there as I so often did for the peace and quiet, for the song of birds, the scents
from gardens and woods that joined with me and my music.
And it was there, suddenly without warning, that my mind filled with those words, words
long forgotten, only half learned at best somewhere in the dim past.
When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness, he shall save his soul alive.
The wicked man?
What has that to do with me, with John Jasper?
Simple instructory music.
Jack?
And why should I be filled with a strange sense of guilt?
Are you in there, Jack?
The wicked man.
Me?
The wicked man?
Jack, are you in there?
Jack, are you in the organ, love?
Jack?
Who's that?
It's I, Jack, your nephew, Edwin Drews.
Edwin?
I'm out here in the assembly hall.
Edwin, Edwin, my boy.
Jack, Jack, it's good to see you again.
Let me see what the past three months have done for you.
I can't say they've done you a bit of harm.
No reason why they should.
But tell me of yourself.
You look a little tired.
Tired?
I've never felt better in my life.
Not worried about something, are you?
Some strain you're under, perhaps?
In this sleepy old college town?
Oh, but look here, come into my office.
We're wasting all this time and talk.
I've been saving a special welcome for you, my boy.
Sit down and rest your weary bones while I make it ready.
Oh, Jack.
Jack, I'm truly home again.
I can see that now.
No wonder you love it here at Ploistrom.
Is that what you think, Edwin?
Well, who could think otherwise, looking at you?
You're respected, your talent for teaching music, admired and looked up to.
You'd be duty-bound to love it.
You're wrong, Edwin.
I hate it.
What?
I hate it.
Jack, I'd never dreamed.
Well, now, now, let there be an end to such talk, Edwin.
We've laid our tooth much too long as it is.
To your future, Edwin.
I know, Jack, hold on.
I'll not make that the first toast upon my return.
Oh, why not?
There's a much better one to drink to on this day of all days.
To my future wife, Rosa.
Of course, Edwin.
To Rosa.
As bestowed there, Edwin and I, drinking to her, to Rosa, I began to realize why those
words about the wicked man have come to me just before his return.
It has been a warning.
A warning that might have already come too late.
Good evening, won't you?
Oh, it's Mr. Jasper.
Good evening, Rosa.
Have I startled you?
Why, no, Mr. Jasper.
It was only that I...
You were expecting someone else?
Well, Edwin said that he might get here early.
I'm sorry I disappointed you then.
Oh, no, it isn't that really.
I'm being quite rude, aren't I?
Please come in.
Thank you, my dear.
You look most charming, Rosa.
I'd swear that gown was purchased in London, especially for your party tonight.
You surprised me, Mr. Jasper.
I didn't know you were so observant of concerning women.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
You surprised me, Mr. Jasper, I didn't know you were so observant of concerning women.
Concerning women, Rosa, or you?
Why, me?
I'm only one of your music students.
No, no.
You're a good deal more than that to me, Rosa.
I'll open the parlor.
We can wait there for the other guests.
You said I was a good deal more to you than just a music student.
What did you mean?
Edwin's my nephew.
You're his betrothed.
Surely the love I bear for him extends to you also.
Oh, I hadn't thought of your feelings toward me in just that way.
Had you thought of them then?
Allow me to be frank, Mr. Jasper.
I'm going to marry Edwin despite the fact that I do not love him.
You do not?
Oh, as a brother, perhaps as a very dear friend, but not as one should love a husband.
Then why marry him, Rosa?
Because I couldn't bear to see him hurt.
Because I promised both my parents and his that we would marry.
There's nothing that can change your mind.
No, Mr. Jasper.
Not even if you loved another.
I do love another.
The other guests.
Rosa.
Excuse me, please.
I must let them in.
I remember little concern in the party that followed, being too occupied with my own thoughts.
But two insolents do stand out as foreshadowing events to come.
The first, a conversation between Dean Chris Barkle and his protégé, Neville Landless,
a strange and intense young man, but newly arrived from Ceylon.
Yes, of course, my dear.
He is a beautiful girl, Dean.
One of the most beautiful it has ever been my fortune to meet.
It might be best for you to curb your admiration, Neville.
Rosa's already spoken for.
In Ceylon, that is not always the reason.
I need hardly remind you, my boy, that this is cloistered in England.
I warrant her fiancee would not take too kindly to your attitude.
Fiancee?
Young Edwin Drude.
Ah, yes.
I now understand his air of proprietorship.
Obviously, he's not one who appreciates his good fortune.
May I ask, Mr. Landless, the exact meaning of your remark concerning me and Rosa?
Edwin, really, I didn't know that you...
I don't mind, Mr. Drude.
It seemed to me that you were taking the young lady in question rather for granted.
I merely commented on it.
A manner of comment that hardly comes under the heading of civility in England, Mr. Landless.
Though perhaps your somewhat heathen background may account for it.
Oh, come now, gentlemen, this is hardly the time or place...
No, how does it seem very civil for you to comment so upon a stranger here,
one who has not had your so-called advantages in upbringing?
Perhaps the best civility is to mind our own business,
if you will set me that example I promised to follow it.
You take too much upon yourself, sir.
In my part of the world, you would be called to account for it.
By whom, for instance, Mr. Landless?
By me, sir.
At your earliest convenience.
Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen, please.
Edwin, Edwin, let's have no more of this.
I were to bring the two of you.
I don't like it, my boy.
Nor do I care for certain comments made in my presence here, Jack.
This is hardly a matter of moment, Edwin.
We are all hosts here to Mr. Landless, a stranger newly arrived,
who should respect the obligations of hospitality.
Shall it be over then?
So far as I'm concerned, Jack, there's no anger left.
Mr. Landless?
None, Mr. Jasper.
So be it then.
The incident is over.
When it became time for Rosa to play, I took my place at the piano beside her
in order to turn the pages of the music.
I stood there watching, watching her hands caressing the keys
like two white, tender doves, seeing her lips pursed tenderly
in concentration, the curve of her soft cheek, her eyes intent upon her music,
yet finding moments free to glance up into mine, a tired of emotion
welled up within me as I watched.
And then I saw it begin to overtake her too.
It was evident in the trembling of her hands, the color draining from her face,
her quickening breath.
Oh, no, I can't bear it.
I can't bear it.
Take me away, please.
Take me away.
Take me away.
Take me away.
Take me away.
It was then the decision was made.
It was then I knew that the end result was as fixed in time
as the inexorable approach of death.
In this instance, the death of Edwin Drude.
Auto Light is bringing you Mr. Herbert Marshall in Charles Dickens'
The Mystery of Edwin Drude.
Tonight's presentation in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
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And now, Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage Mr. Herbert Marshall
in Elliot Lewis's production of The Mystery of Edwin Drude,
a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I have said that a man's mind can become a thing of horrible wonder, a part.
So it must have been with mine that night.
For I know now that the plan, the complete, the perfect plan,
was born the very moment that Edwin Drude led Rosa from the room.
Oh, the poor girl. She's quite evidently overwrought. Yes, quite overwrought.
Little wonder, with the strain she's had to bear.
It can hardly be conducive to one's nerves when a fiancé becomes proprietary and overbearing.
It will appear that your earlier differences with Edwin Drude still rankle and still endless.
I believe I have my anger well under control, Mr. Jasper,
though the same can hardly be said for the circumstances that provoked it.
Oh, come now, Neville, it is hardly becoming to maintain such a disagreeable attitude.
Hardly becoming, perhaps, but a natural reaction, and one that can be as naturally overcome.
And just how would you suggest this to be done, sir?
Through friendly discussion over a friendly nightcap, Mr. Landless.
Shall we say at my gatehouse, within the hour?
Will Drude be amenable?
He's already accepted my invitation.
Then I shall accept also.
Thank you, Mr. Landless. You shall not regret it, I assure you.
I took my leave then, and pursued my way through the silent cobbled streets of Cloisterham.
My path led me beside the city's venerable crypt.
That strange jumble of old walls, ancient druidic stone, and decaying monuments,
wherein dwelt the bones of centuries of Cloisterham's dead.
Upon reaching it, I forsook the cobbled stones of the street for the rubble of the crypt.
Beware that there amound by the yard gate, Mr. Jasper.
Oh, is that you, Duddles?
Aye.
What was it you said?
I said, where the mound, Mr. Jasper?
What is it?
Lime, that's what.
Lime? What you call quick lime?
Aye, quick enough to eat your bones, and your boots, with a little hand stirring.
Quick enough, surely, to eat your bones.
Really, now you use it for your stonemason work, do you?
Aye, though it's little enough stonework for Duddles these days.
What with the mayor and them wanting to learn where the olden ones is?
Oh, yes. Searching for the final resting places of ancient druids, aren't you?
Aye, try and task it is, too.
What with the way they're buried here, without no rhyme, no reason.
Scattered about like in walls and under passageways.
At best I'd say it was an impossible task, Duddles.
Not for Duddles and his armoury, it's not.
Hammer? How can that possibly help?
Well, look you over here, Mr Jasper.
Here's a wall, ticky-tiss, over six feet, crumbling bad in spots.
Hard to tell just what might be buried there, if anything.
But Duddles will soon put an end to that mystery.
Aye, taps, you see.
Solid here, unolden.
So I goes on tapping.
Hollow here, nothing.
I tap some more.
Here I find solid.
Ah, hollow again.
There you have it, Mr Jasper. Walls hollow.
Toe filled with rubbish and whatnot I wage, but hollow plain enough.
Like most of the walls around here.
Plenty of room in them for a hundred more bodies it need be.
Yes, I dare say.
Well, thank you kindly for a most illuminating lecture.
Well, no.
You didn't say why you come visiting here in the first place, Mr Jasper.
I don't believe I know, Duddles.
I don't believe I know.
When I arrived at my lodgings, Edwin was already there.
And no sooner had we got the fire blazing and made ourselves comfortable
than Neville Landless put in his appearance.
Please, to sit down, Mr Landless.
Whatever small comfort you find here, consider it to be your own.
My thanks, Mr Jasper.
Turn up the lamp on the desk, will you, Edwin?
I have a pair of scissors and a pair of scissors.
Turn up the lamp on the desk, will you, Edwin?
I'll prepare some mulled wine for that nightcap I promised.
Of course, Jack.
You'll probably notice, Mr Landless, that I have the lamp so arranged
as to illuminate a painting over the chimney place.
I have noticed it, Mr Jasper.
You'll recognize the subject, of course.
Miss Rosar, I could hardly fail to do so, though the portrait is far from flattering to the original.
Don't be so hard on it, Mr Landless.
It was done by Edwin, who made me a present of it.
I am sorry, Mr Drude, if I had known I was in the artist's presence.
I doubt that your remark would have differed, Mr Landless.
Perhaps it would not have, Mr Drude.
Oh, come now, gentlemen, let there be no more of this.
The wine is prepared.
So, and surely no lady, or at least the portrait of one,
should intrude upon the drinking habits of good friends.
For you, Mr Landless.
Thank you, sir.
Edwin.
My thanks, Jack.
Now, for the first toast of the evening, I should like to propose one to my nephew, a most fortunate man.
A toast in truth, Mr Jasper.
I shall drink to it.
Thank you both, gentlemen.
Yes, Mr Landless, I ask you to observe my nephew, for he is indeed one of the most fortunate men of the world.
And an enviable state, if I truly possess it, Jack.
How could you doubt it, my boy?
A family estate that eliminates the burdens of economic necessity?
Rosa, eager, waiting to supply you with the greatest blessings of domestic bliss and love.
Quite different from your prospects and mine, is it not, Mr Landless?
Yes, quite different, Mr Jasper.
Upon my soul, Jack, I almost feel apologetic for having my way smoothed, as you describe, almost, but not quite.
Perhaps it might have been better for Mr Drude to have known some hardships in the achievement of his possessions.
And why, pray, might it have been better for Mr Drude to have known hardships?
Yes, Mr Landless.
Tell us why.
Because they might have made him more sensible of good fortune.
That is not the result of his own merit.
Have you known hardships, may I ask?
I have.
And what have they made you sensible of?
I have told you once before tonight.
You've told me nothing.
I told you that you take a great deal too much upon yourself.
You added something else to that, if I remember.
I did. I said that in my part of the world you would be called to account for it.
That part of the world is a long way off, I believe, at a very safe distance.
Say here, then. Say anywhere that gentlemen may be found.
What would you know of gentlemen, Landless?
You may know a common thief or a common boaster when you see him, but you're surely no judge of gentlemen.
I have taken all I'm going to take from you.
Here now, Edwin. Stand still. Mr Landless, give me that bottle.
I'll give it to your precious nephew.
I warn you, Drude, I'll cut you down some day for this.
I swear it.
The scene had gone well, I thought. Very well.
And after Landless's enraged departure, after I had calmed Edwin down and sent him home,
I waited for what I knew would inevitably follow.
It was close to midnight when it did.
May I come in, Jesper?
Of course, Dean.
I understand you had some difficulty with my protégé tonight.
He told you?
There was no overlooking his wrought up state when he came home.
I questioned him at once. It must have been rather difficult.
Murderous might be a more exact term.
Murderous? Surely you exaggerate, Jesper.
I hardly think so.
But what could justify the use of such an expression?
The facts. I feel certain that if I had not been there to intervene, he would have laid Edwin dead at his feet.
Oh, unbelievable. And yet he did repeat to me the warning he gave young Drude.
That he'd cut him down some day?
His exact words, Jesper.
I think, sir, that you have in your charge a most dangerous man,
one who might well attempt to carry out his threat against Edwin's life.
Oh, no, no, no. I can't believe that, Jesper.
I'm confident that if we could get them together again, get them to shake hands upon it,
all their differences could be resolved.
You're much more optimistic than I.
Surely it's worth a try for your nephew's sake, for no other.
Talk to him. I'll talk with Neville.
I know he'll meet with Drude whenever and wherever you say.
Very well, Dean. I'll try.
Though I say to you now, and you are my witness,
I'm convinced that unless Neville Landless leaves Cloisterham,
the end result could be nothing but tragedy.
It was two days later that Dean Chris Barcl
brought me assurance of Neville's willingness to cooperate.
Immediately I sought out Edwin Drude for a dinner on Christmas Eve,
just the three of us.
And so the stage was set, and the hours flew,
and the ugly streets of Cloisterham turned bright and gay with the holly and the mistletoe.
The dinner in my lodgings went carefully and well that Christmas Eve.
The holiday spirit burned as brightly as the fire in the house.
There was peace on earth to all men of good will.
Not even the unseasonable storm that began to rage outside
could dampen the gaiety of the evening.
Rather it served as a challenge,
an opportunity to heighten the feeling of good fellowship that seemed to be born that night.
It was sometime around midnight when the two men, arm in arm, took their departure.
You would suggest something like this, Jack.
Fancy going to see the river at this hour on Christmas Eve.
Only a madman would suggest such a thing.
And only two young madmen such as you would take up such a suggestion,
if indeed you are to take it up.
Nothing could stop me from it now, Mr Jasper.
It's unbelievable that that sluggish, muddy stream could ever become a raging torrent.
Nevertheless, you'll find it is so, Mr Landless.
One of the few worthwhile sights to behold in Cloisterham.
Our river reborn at the height of a storm.
I warn you to be careful, however.
The footing will be treacherous.
You're a wicked man, Jack, to inflame us over the idea and then attempt to draw us back.
Will you not succeed in stopping us now, Innifil?
No, Edwin. Nothing will stop us now.
Then come along. We'll be on our merry way.
There is little I can tell you of the night that followed.
For there is little that I remember clearly.
I know only that when dawn finally broke,
I found myself in the organ loft, playing,
my clothing wet through,
and burning within my brain was a memory.
A memory of a man walking alone through the wind and rain in the black of night.
A man walking through the deserted streets of Cloisterham.
A street that suddenly, unknown to him, were no longer deserted.
A memory, I said it was.
Or was it a dream?
I did not know.
But as I sat there in that organ loft,
in the dim light of Christmas morn,
there was one thing I did know.
Edwin's room would never be seen again.
Suspense.
Presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, Mr. Herbert Marshall.
This is Harlow Wilcox speaking for Auto Light,
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Next week, part two of Charles Dickens' unfinished novel,
The Mystery of Edwin Drude, at which time we will attempt to solve this literary puzzle.
Our star once again, Mr. Herbert Marshall.
That's next week on Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis,
with music composed by Lucian Morawak and conducted by Lud Bluskin.
The Mystery of Edwin Drude was adapted from Charles Dickens' unfinished novel by Sidney Marshall.
In tonight's story, Terry Kilburn was heard as Edwin Drude,
Betty Harford as Rosa, Ben Wright as Landless,
Joseph Kearns as Dean Chris Sparkle, and William Johnstone as Dirtles.
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