Suspense. And the producer of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, the master of mystery
and adventure, William N. Rogerson.
Among the many misconceptions under which we live and have our being is the one that
states that there is no such thing as the perfect crime. The open files of unsolved
murders in every police department across the land give the lie to this proposition.
However, it is true that the criminal more often than not slips up on the tiniest of
details and ends up alone in a tiny room with a tiny gas pellet dropping into a tiny pan
of water under his chair. We wonder if you can spot the detail Dort Sharple's overlooked
as you listen to Mr. Glenn Ford starring in Murder and Antigua, a tale well calculated
to keep you in.
Suspense. Ever stick out your thumb and pull in a million dollar plum? Well, I'm the little
Jack Horner that did it, only my name isn't Horner. It's Dort Sharples. I was hitchhiking
along Highway 70 across the Arizona desert heading for L.A. It was August and I was hot.
Oh man, it was hot. It was so hot the lizards were fanning themselves. There wasn't much
traffic, nobody would stop. I'd walked about eight miles outside Littleberg called Quartz
Eye and I was tired. I was tired and sore. Finally a black sedan came along and I was
all set to holler cuss words at it for not stopping when suddenly this guy slows down.
It was a young guy about my age. He was alone. Hop in. Thanks, I sure appreciate this man.
It's all right. I could use some company. Yeah. You know, for a second there I didn't
think you were going to stop. I wasn't frankly. Yeah, well, a guy has to be careful nowadays.
You know what changed my mind? Maybe you won't like this but it suddenly struck me that you
look like me. Yeah, I guess maybe I do with that now that you mention it. What if that
was me walking along I thought? Besides if you got a face like mine it must be an honest
face. Hey, maybe you got something there. You going to Blythe? What's that? The next
town across the Colorado. Oh, you know, no, I'm going clear into L.A. I happen to be going
through L.A. on my way to Santa Barbara. If you want to spell me at the wheel we can make
Los Angeles by a little after midnight. Brother, you've got yourself a copilot. By the time
we crossed the river into California I learned the guy's name was John Braley and that he
was going to visit his invalid aunt. Now this aunt didn't own all of Santa Barbara, not
quite. And the guy didn't volunteer this information. I had to kind of probe it out of him. Between
Blythe and Desert Center an idea began to percolate and not just from the heat either.
Say, I bet your aunt's going to be awfully glad to see you, Braley. How long did you
say they'd been? I was ten when I left. Oh yeah. Yeah, that would make it seventeen years.
You see my mother died when I was three and Aunt Delia took me in. Does she know you're
coming? Yeah, I sent her a wire. Oh yeah, good. You think she'll recognize you? I doubt
it. The reason I'm going back, her husband died about a month ago. That'd be your uncle.
Uncle by marriage. I never thought of him as an uncle. My aunt married him when I was
nine. He and I never got along. That's why I left Aunt Delia's place. You mean you ran
away? No, another aunt in Delaware took me. For a while Delia and I wrote to each other
but her husband made her quit. He sounds like a first rate heel. Yeah, I always thought
so. Anyway, what with school and then the army and getting a job afterwards, why, I
just lost track of Aunt Delia. You got a lot of relatives in the East? No, no. My other
aunt died when I was twenty-one. Delia's the only relative I got left. I guess that means
you'll be coming into something pretty good someday. I suppose so. This may sound funny
but the idea sort of scares me. Yeah, I wish somebody'd scare me like that. I kept pumping
him until I could have written his autobiography. Yes, I mean autobiography. I stored away facts
about his uncle. He hated how Braley used to like to draw pictures when he was a kid,
how he got his only spanking when he was eight for spilling ink on his aunt's favorite tapestry,
how he wouldn't eat peas and got sick on enchiladas at the Santa Barbara Fiesta in 1935. Everything.
Could I remember it, man? You know what people used to say to me? You know, with your memory
boy you could be a good lawyer, you know, but that takes work. Now just east of Indio
before Highway 70 runs into 99, I figured I was thoroughly briefed. You want me to drive
a while, Sharples? No, no, no thanks. It's okay. Unless you want to take over. No, no.
Technically, maybe I shouldn't be driving at all. Oh, I've got one of those mail order
driver's licenses, but I doubt if I could pass the California test. You see... Hey,
hey, wait a minute. Hey, you notice something funny? No, what? I think we're getting a flat.
Oh, no. Yeah, sure. This car kind of rides funny. You feel it? You know what I think
it is? I think it's the right rear tire there. This would have to happen clear out in the
middle of nowhere. Yeah, you said it. I tell you, maybe we better stop and take a look.
I don't even know where the spare's any good. I may be imagining things, I don't know, but
we better make sure. I'll check it. Just a minute. There's not a soul in sight either
way. Well, we won't need any help. Well, I hope not. How is it? Maybe you better come
back here. Okay. I'm sure, Glad I've got you along. I'm not much good at... Oh, come
to think of it, there may not be any tools in the car. I bought this car in a hurry off
a used car lot. I've got all the tools I need, Braylee. It doesn't look flat to me. No?
Come here. Lean down here and take a look. It still doesn't seem... I was right about
the tools, wasn't I, Braylee? I put the blackjack back in my pocket and dragged Braylee off
the highway. I put him in a ditch. I made sure he was dead. Then I changed clothes with
a blackjack and covered his body with sand and brush and all of the stuff that was laying
around. I was back in the sedan on my way. Still no other car was in sight. I adjusted
the rear view mirror so I could see my reflection. I watched my lips move as my voice said, Dorch
Sharples. Never heard of him. My name is John Braylee. I pulled into L.A. about 2 a.m.
I waited around till morning, though, before I went to Rena's apartment. See, I wanted
her to be real wide awake when I told her my idea. But, Dord, it sounds crazy and dangerous.
For a million bucks, we can afford to be crazy. What, suppose somebody finds out you aren't
this guy, Braylee? Who will know? Who's going to know? His aunt hasn't seen him since he
was a kid. There's no other relatives, no connections on the coast, none back east either.
Are you sure you can carry it off, Dord? Rena, will you listen to me? I know everything about
that guy. I even know when he lost his first baby tooth. But what do you want me to do?
I'm going to... You just stay where I can get in touch with you, you hear? You be ready
to come up to Santa Barbara. How long will you have to wait to come into this money?
Pretty old lady may live for years. No, no, I don't think so. She's pretty well along
and she's an invalid. You know, a lot of things can happen to an old lady.
Well... No, no wells about it. It's a real break.
Now, I might have done it alone. I could have done it alone. But I thought of you, kid.
Real sweet of you, Dord. Real sweet. Yeah, sure. And we're partners, huh?
Yes, Dord. Great. Now, look, kid, listen. One thing, very important.
Lay off that dork stuff from now on, huh? From now on, you call me John Braley.
Kiss me, John. It didn't take me long to cover the hundred
miles to Santa Barbara. The reunion with Aunt Delia was... Well, it was quite touching.
Yeah, I sat on a little old stool, you know, right in front of her, right by her wheelchair,
drinking tea at the housekeeper, this Mrs. Parker. She kept pouring it, so... And we
talked, you know, we talked over old times. Oh, Johnny, it's so good to have your home
again. Johnny. Johnny. You know, nobody but you ever
called me that. You remember the kids used to call me Jack or Curly mostly?
Oh, and how angry you used to get. You hated to be called Curly.
Yeah, and when I got into a fight about it that time, remember with Pudge Martin?
You sent me to bed without any supper and then you took away my paints and my crayons
for a whole week. Well, not for a whole week, Johnny.
Oh, yes, you did. I relented on Sunday afternoon.
Well, let's see. It seemed like a week. Oh, you did love to draw. You know, I've
seen some of your drawings. I was looking at them only the other day and... Oh, that
must be Mr. Crittenden. Crittenden?
Yes, my attorney. He's been just wonderful to me since your uncle died. Handles all of
my affairs. I've asked him to come up to meet you.
Huh? Well, I hope you don't mind.
No, no. That's all right, Mrs. Parker. Don't
bother. Come right in, Bryce.
Hello, Delia. My, you look positively radiant. Well, well. Is this the prodigal nephew?
Yes. Bryce, this is Johnny. Or should I say Mr. Crittenden, my nephew John Braley.
How do you do? How do you do? So this is John. My boy, let me warn you
that I know every infamous detail of your crime-ridden career. That is, up until the
time you were ten years old. No, Bryce.
Now, women, I'm afraid, Auntie, that Mr. Crittenden has an ipso facto case against me. I offer
this tapestry. That's going to be exhibit A. Take a look.
What do you mean? Well, if you examine it real closely, you
will see traces of a stain. Now, Auntie, isn't this where I spilled ink in... Oh, what do
you mean? Wasn't it 1935? Why, Johnny, do you still remember that?
I certainly do. And you spanked me with a hairbrush. The accused has paid his debt to society.
Case is billed. No, Johnny, that stain is worth more to me
than the tapestry itself. Oh, now come on.
I think she means it, John. Your arrival has already made her look ten years younger.
Oh, how absolutely absurd. In fact, I think you could get up out of that
chair this minute and trounce me soundly at a game of tennis.
There wasn't any doubt about it. I was in. And Delia's health improved so rapidly, I
realized I'd have to think of a way to... I had to kind of speed things up. That meant
I had to get Mrs. Parker, the housekeeper, out of the house for good. So I began devising
little things to make her appear inefficient. Now, Auntie wasn't supposed to have spices,
so I sneaked into the kitchen and I doctored the food with some pepper.
After Mrs. Parker set the heating unit for the night, I got up and I turned it off. Andy
woke up freezing. And Mrs. Parker became so confused and upset that she began helping
me out by forgetting things and making mistakes all on her own.
Johnny, I know Mrs. Parker means well, but, well, as Dr. Davis says, I've got to have
someone I can depend on at all times. Yeah. Well, I haven't liked to say anything,
but after all, she's been with you for a long time. But, well, the poor old soul, I think
she does need a rest. Oh dear, it's going to be so difficult to
tell her. I'll attend to that, Auntie. And I'll see about
getting another housekeeper, an intelligent, capable, younger woman.
Hello? Rena, this is me.
Who? You know, Mr. Braley.
Oh, yes. How are you, Mr. Braley? I'm great. Now listen, kid, I'm calling from Santa
Barbara. I'll get up here right away, check in at the San Martin Hotel as Rena Durwin.
And you wait there till I call you. We're in, baby, but good.
You are listening to William and Robeson's production of Murder and Antilia, starring
Mr. Glen Ford. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
By the time Rena arrived in Santa Barbara, I'd fixed up a set of references of her ability
and character that would have flattered Florence Nightingale and Susan B. Anthony.
Oh, Rena came out for an interview pretending she was sent by an employment agency I was
supposed to have called. Oh, she made a terrific impression on the old lady.
At a nod from me, Andy hired Rena on the spot, and Mrs. Parker left with a cardboard suitcase
amongst pay red eyes and the sniffles. Well, after she got Andy to bed that first night,
Rena and I met on the veranda. How did I do, Doris?
The name. Nobody's around to hear.
Look, just don't take any chances. You call me Mr. Braley all the time.
All right, Mr. Braley. How did I do? Perfect. Now, come on, let's take a walk over by the
bluff there away from the house, huh? This is sure a sun layout. Looks great in
the moonlight. Yeah, they'll all be ours, baby.
Yeah. How are you going to do it? Do what?
You know. Mm-hmm. Now, right up there ahead is a cliff.
You see it? There it is. Now, that's a 200-foot drop under those rocks down there.
You're going to push her off the cliff? No. No, nothing as brutal as that.
No, it's an accident, you see. You take Andy for an airing in her wheelchair, and as you're
pushing the chair, you trip and you fall. The chair starts rolling, you run after her,
but poor Andy goes over the edge. And you're hysterical with shock, of course.
Yeah, I am. I don't know. What's wrong with you taking Andy for an airing?
Look, look, if I could do it, what would be the point of you being here at all? You're
just an employee, a brand new one. You've got no reason on earth to kill her for her
dough, but I mean, they just might get that idea if I was wheeling her.
Yeah, I guess you're right. Yeah, and that's why it's important for
us not to have very much to do with each other. That's going to be difficult, Dord.
Mr. Braley. No one can see us now, honey. Oh, baby, can't you wait?
No. All right.
Just one kiss, please.
The next afternoon, Andy and I were in the library. I was trying to look interested in
the scrapbook she was pawned through. I hope she wouldn't notice how fidgety I was.
My eyes are so weak now, Johnny, but I know every detail of these just from memory.
Oh, here you are on your first tricycle. Well, I'll be darned. Was I ever that small?
It doesn't seem possible, does it? Oh, here's what I was looking for.
The cow you drew when you were nine. Oh, you were quite the artist.
Hey, this is great. I was a, what do you call it, surrealist or something.
Well, I colored it green. Look at that. A green cow on purple grass.
Well, it certainly caused a sensation at your school.
There's a wonder I wasn't expecting. Oh, Johnny.
Oh, I've always been just sick about this picture. One of the few of you and me together.
You broke away from it just as the photographer took it.
Yeah, just a blur. What's the cat doing in it?
But don't you remember? That Xerxes. What? Oh, you remember?
Oh, sure. Old Xerxes the Persian. Yeah. Oh, gee, you know the fun he and I used to
have together. Of course, I used to tease him a lot when you weren't looking.
Yeah, but he sure was a nice... What's the matter, Auntie?
Johnny, are you trying to fool your old Auntie? What do you mean?
Well, you were frightened plum out of your wits by cats. If Xerxes so much as brushed
up against you, you'd scream bloody murder. That's why you jumped when the picture was taken.
I did? I did. Yeah, didn't I? Yeah.
Remember, Dr. Thompson said it was a deep-seated phobia and you'd probably have it all your life,
like Napoleon. Did it ever go away, Johnny, this fear of cats?
Well, yeah, it went away. I mean, most of it went away. A guy...
After all, he doesn't like to remember what a coward he was when he was a kid.
Maybe she was satisfied with that explanation. But I thought she watched me a lot closer after
that with her dim old eyes. Rhene and I couldn't put it out much longer. I might call a real boner.
That night, Rhene and I set it up. I said, tomorrow, right after breakfast.
Oh, you'll come with me, won't you? Honey, it's better if I'm not around.
You don't have to be right there. Just be where I can see you. I couldn't do it all alone. I don't know if I can...
All right, all right, all right. Just don't lose your nerve, kid. That's all. Just don't lose your nerve.
Don't lose your nerve.
I didn't sleep much that night. The next morning after breakfast, Rhene and I got the old lady into
her wheelchair. Well, there you are, Auntie. Thank you, Johnny. Oh, my, but isn't it a lovely day?
It certainly is, Mrs. Furnham. But I do think I'd better have a scarf over my head.
I'll run upstairs and get one. Would you mind, dear? Hey, there's two scarves right here on the sofa.
Oh, never mind, Mr. When there's some down here. Yeah, here now. Which one do you want, Auntie?
The green and red one or the blue and yellow one? Why, doesn't matter, Johnny. Either one.
All right. Let's see now. I think the green and red one will go better with that robe you're wearing.
Yes, so it will. Yeah, now doesn't that look nice? All right, let's go then.
No, wait, I've changed my mind. You mean about going out? Yes, it's so much bother.
Bother? Nothing. You need some fresh air. Well, I'll just sit here by the open window.
Look, you need some sun. Now, come along, Mr. When. Please, Johnny, I don't want to go.
I just want to stay here and rest. Please. Why, sure. Why, sure, Auntie. Okay, okay. If you don't want to go.
And did you finally calm down? But she still had Rena. Put her to bed. Then she asked me to drive into town.
She wanted me to get her some medicine she was out of. I was, you know what I was doing? I was hoping the old lady was maybe coming down with something that would save Rena and me the trouble of that last wheelchair ride.
But no. The next morning was cloudy and sultry. When I got downstairs, Rena already had the old girl out on the lawn in her wheelchair.
She came over to me and whispered. She just wants to stay there, Dork. No, ride. Well, that's tough. That's real tough because she's going anyway. Now, come on, Rena.
Suppose it makes her fun. I think the two of us can handle an old lady in a wheelchair. But if she screams. So she screams. All right. This estate is as isolated as Alcatraz. Come on, come on. Let's get it over with.
All right. It's starting to sprinkle. I know it is. Now, come on. Hurry up. Let's finish this thing before we get wet.
Daddy, Miss Darwin, it's starting to rain. Oh, we're coming, Auntie. Oh, I just knew it would rain today. I just knew it. Yes. Yeah. Well, well, here we go, Auntie.
You came just in time. I thought you'd forgotten me. Forget you. Why, don't be silly. Oh, dear. It's really starting to come down. Well, hurry. We'll be soon.
Johnny, the house is back that way. Johnny, where are you taking me? Just relax, Auntie. Rena, Rena, help me push, will you? Sure. All right. Let's make this quick.
Johnny, what are you doing? Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Johnny, do you hear me? I'm frightened. Pastor Rena. You're not my Johnny. Are you? You're not my Johnny.
Okay, Rena, let it go. Oh, stop it, please. Please.
It was done. I looked over the edge to make sure. Yeah, she was dead all right. I made Rena tear her hose and skin her knee, rub some dirt on the wound.
It was raining hard now. As we got back to the house, I heard a car swinging around the last turn on the grade. It pulled up the driveway by the porch and a man got out. It was Crittenden.
Get hysterical, Rena. Come on, limp. Oh, I tried to stop her, Mr. Braley. I tried to. Mr. Crittenden? John, what are you two doing out in this rain? Who was your aunt?
Well, something awful's happened. I was just going to phone you. Oh, I tried to catch her. I tried. My aunt is dead. Damn. Yes. And it's all my fault. All my fault.
Stop that. It's not your fault. What happened? Well, aunt Deal, you asked Miss Derwin here to wheel her over there so she could admire the view. In this rain?
It wasn't raining then. Miss Derwin tripped in the wheelchair coast of downhill. She tried to catch up, but it just plunged over the cliff. Call an ambulance. Maybe there's still a chance.
Well, Crittenden ran down to look over the cliff. I went into the library and phoned the ambulance and the police, too, just to make it look good. I was downing a double shot of bourbon when the lawyer came in.
That poor woman. At least she didn't suffer. Oh, thank heaven for that. Use a drink? No, thanks. Well, I'll never forget that scream. Don't torture yourself.
This young woman, what's her background? Oh, Miss Derwin, why, an employment agency sent her out. She has wonderful references.
Gentlemen, I'm sorry I lost control of myself. Oh, Miss Derwin, this is Mr. Crittenden. How do you do? Mrs. Farnham's attorney. How do you do?
Could I bring you gentlemen anything? Nothing for me, thank you. Now, please sit down and relax. You've had quite a shock. Yes, sit down, Miss Derwin. Thank you.
There seems to be nothing to do, but wait. I'm a fuss budget about these things, perhaps, but that bust of Shakespeare on the bookcase, isn't it in a rather precarious position?
What? Oh, no, I never noticed. Right over your head there. It makes me nervous. I'll slide it back. Rather a top heavy thing. Look out, Dorte!
My, that was close. Bailey missed you. I'm sorry. No harm done. Lucky you had the presence of mind to call out Miss Derwin. What was it you called, Mr. Praley?
I didn't call him anything. Look out, Dorte! Was what you said. Why did you call him Dorte? It was just an exclamation. She saw the statue toppled over. And called you by your real name.
Mr. Crittenden, I'm afraid I don't quite see the reason for all this. This peculiar questioning with my aunt lying out there dead.
Mr. Braley, you said Miss Derwin came recommended by an employment agency. That's right. Yesterday I checked every agency in town. There was no real Derwin registered with any of them.
That's not true. You checked into the San Martin Hotel only the day before you reported here for your interview. But that doesn't mean...
One of my assistants is checking those references you gave. Mr. Crittenden, being my aunt's attorney, I doesn't give you the right to insult her employees. Just what are you trying to prove?
I had a talk with Mrs. Parker the other day. Mrs. Parker? Oh, she saw her because she got fired. So she tries to create distrust and suspicion of this girl who took her place.
I've known Mrs. Parker for years. There was no physical or emotional reason why she should suddenly turn into an absent-minded, careless incompetent...
Nevertheless, she did. Dr. Davis...
I talked to Dr. Davis and he's of the opinion that somebody in this house engineered things so Mrs. Parker would be asked to leave.
I'm sure my aunt would resent your prying into the fares of her household.
I'm afraid you're mistaken. This prying, as you call it, is made at your aunt's request.
What do you mean?
She telephoned me yesterday afternoon to tell me about a strange doubt, a suspicion.
About what?
About you.
Me?
She suddenly was disturbed by the horrible feeling that you are an imposter.
And she thought that I was...
Why, that's absurd, is it?
Your recollections of your childhood here were quite convincing, except for one or two things.
This is all...
Oh, you mean my fear of cats? But, well, look, people get over these childish phobias.
Yes, more than that.
Remember a drawing she showed you, a watercolor of a cow?
Sure, a green cow. What about it?
And the scarves? Remember you thought the green and red would go better with her robe than the blue and yellow one?
So what?
Doesn't it strike you as peculiar that a boy who could draw quite a fine cow should paint it green and then, years later,
be so exacting about harmonizing his ant scarf?
You see, John Braley was colorblind.
["The Blue and Yellow"]
Suspense.
In which Mr. Glenn Ford starred in William M. Robeson's production of Murder and Andelia by Lou Houston.
Listen.
Listen again next week when we return with 227 Minutes of Hate by Sam Pearce.
Another tale well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense.
Supporting Mr. Ford in Murder and Andelia were Ellen Morgan, Lillian Bief, Shepherd Menken, and Herb Butterfield.
Music composed by Lucian Morrowak and conducted by Wilbur Hatch.
["The Blue and Yellow"]
Suspense has been brought to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.
["The Blue and Yellow"]