Suspense. And the producer of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, the master of mystery and adventure,
William N. Robeson.
The story you are about to hear concerns a murderer, a murderer and his accomplices.
One of the accomplices is innocent because it is a blind, brainless phenomenon of which scientists know little except that it does exist.
This accomplice is a freak of nature which lives high in the stratosphere at altitudes sometimes too great for commercial airliners,
but at altitudes less and less challenging to military jets.
It is a narrow river of wind. Sometimes it dries up like a creek in summer.
But at the flood its velocity is incredible. It has been clocked at 200 miles per hour.
And just as a river will add its own speed to the efforts of an oarsman stroking downstream,
this torrent of air adds its velocity to an eastbound plain clever enough to find the current.
This river of wind is called the jet stream. This is the story of how it sped a murderer from his crime.
Listen then as Frank Lovejoy stars in Jet Stream which begins in exactly one minute.
Can you recognize this American symbol of heroism?
It is a golden laurel wreath embroidered on a square of cloth worn centered on the outside of the right uniform sleeve.
Points of the laurel wreath up with the lower edge of the insignia four inches above the end of the sleeve.
This emblem represents the Meritorious Unit Commendation awarded for outstanding service
and exceptionally meritorious conduct in military operations against an armed enemy for a period of six months or more.
The action cited must have occurred on or after January 1st, 1944.
The campaign streamer for the Meritorious Unit Commendation is Scarlett with the name of the Theater of Operations embroidered in white.
The Meritorious Unit Commendation may also be awarded to Allied Nations military units
which have participated with us in joint action against an enemy.
Those who aid our country in time of war are recognized and honored by a grateful nation.
And now, Jet Stream starring Frank Lovejoy, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
The day you decide to murder your wife can start like any other morning in New York.
May I help you, Mr. Martin?
Thank you, Vicki.
Including a letter from your wife, darling.
Oh, good, good. This ought to have the answer. Let me have it.
I thought of another one last night, darling.
Another way to murder her?
Oh?
All you have to do is sign out one of your jets from the Air National Guard and fly out to Los Angeles and strangle her.
Be back the next morning and nobody will ever know.
Well, I'm afraid they're not that fast unless I caught the Jet Stream.
And besides, the cops just might suspect me if they checked up and found my name on a flight plan.
Oh, I figured that out. You sign out in Bud Lynch's name.
Ha ha ha. I see. Well, where do I get a hold of his instrument card, his service number and such?
He keeps his military stuff in his desk.
And you have the key to every desk in the office. My, my. You have been thinking.
Vicki, let's not play that game anymore. You're getting too good at it.
Oh, look at this.
What's the matter?
Oh, no, no.
What is it, John?
She's finally going to do it. She's finally going to do it.
What?
She's going to phone Calloway. She not only will consider a divorce, she's going to phone the boss.
John, it was 15 years ago and you were acquitted. You said so.
You were, weren't you?
Well, of course I was. You think they'd let me fly in military planes if I'd been convicted by a court martial?
If you were acquitted, what difference will it make to Calloway?
Suppose a client found out I'd even been accused of forgery.
Calloway finds out he'll have to fire me. You know that.
Why is she doing it?
Oh, she's jealous. She's bitter and twisted. She doesn't think straight. Half the time she's looped.
But she was sober when she wrote this, I can tell.
Maybe you can make up with her. Take her back. After all, you have so much in common, your little son.
Oh, come on. Take her back. Are you kidding?
You're what I want. You're everything I want.
Well, you have a funny way of showing it. How come you'd marry someone like that in the first place?
Well, let's call it the war, okay?
Okay.
Ah, get me her number in L.A.
Yes, darling. John.
Yeah.
Did you forge a check?
I was acquitted.
That isn't what I asked.
All right. Yes, I forged a check. I had to.
But you were acquitted.
They couldn't prove it was me.
Good. I wouldn't want you to have been stupid, even then.
All right, all right. Now, get me Milly, please.
I opened the window and let in the sound of New York.
The smell and feel of wealth and power was in the air.
I'd come a long way from a two-bit copywriter's job in Los Angeles, and I wasn't going back.
Hello, Milly.
Oh, do you know what time it is out here?
Yes, it's 7 a.m. in L.A. Now, look, Milly, I got your letter.
Now, what do you want, anyway? I'm sending you half my salary, more than half.
I didn't ask for any more money.
Well, what do you want?
Listen, lover, I'm your wife. Remember, I'm tired of being out here alone with Timmy while you live it up back there with some cheap dog.
Well, look, calling my boss is just going to lose me my job.
That's your problem. I'm calling Calloway, and I'm calling him today, and I'm telling him all about your glorious Air Force career. You got that?
Now, he's out of town.
Then I'll call him tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the day after that. You understand? You understand that?
For a long while, I just sat there.
And then slowly, I became aware of the model of the F-100 Super Saver jet on my desk.
I hardly heard Vicki come in.
Here's your speech for the Air National Guard, darling. You and Bud Lynch are due at the press club, eight sharp tonight.
Oh, okay. Leave it here.
And here's something else.
I stared at the card she'd handed me for a long moment before it registered.
It was a flight instrument card just like my own, but typed on it was Bud's name.
Captain B.L. Lynch, New York Air National Guard, service number 3476218.
For a long time, I stared at it with the blood pounding in my ears.
Outside line, please.
Mitchell Field, give me the weather desk.
Weather, this is Captain Lynch, B.L. Lynch, Air National Guard.
I'm requesting a plane for a cross-country to L.A. and return tonight. Is the jet stream active?
That much?
Good. Let me have the operations officer.
In a moment, we continue with the second act of...
Suspense.
Another visit with Joe and Daphne Forsythe.
Joe?
Yeah, Daphne.
Look at this story about savings bonds in the paper.
Yeah, what about it?
Do you think that's the best way to tell people about savings bonds?
Why not?
Look, see, it says here that savings bonds are a guaranteed investment.
Right now, they pay off at the rate of four bucks at maturity for every three bucks invested.
Uh-uh.
You're not convinced?
Mm-mm.
Why not?
No salesmanship.
No salesmanship? What more do you need to know?
Why, right now, more than eight million Americans are buying savings bonds regularly through the payroll savings plan.
So?
So what?
That's what I say, so what?
Now, look, Daphne, if millions of Americans are convinced that savings bonds are their best investment,
not only financially, but for the future of their country, what the heck is bothering you?
Well, I think they could sell a lot more with salesmanship.
You know, slogans and jingles.
Listen, if you're spending more and saving less, try a savings bond.
Oh, boy.
Or maybe a savings bond pay good, like an investment should.
Daphne.
You get a lot to like in a savings bond.
Interest earnings guaranteed.
Wow.
Well, did I sell you?
Yeah, but I forgot what it was you were selling.
Savings bond.
I'll take a hundred.
Oh, Joe.
And now, starring Frank Lovejoy, act two of Jet Stream.
But seriously, seriously, some of our buddies in the Air National Guard have given more
than time, they've given their lives.
From you of the New York press, we ask this, understanding of the occasional loss of life
inevitable when civilians fly high speed aircraft and recognition for the records we break,
the milestones we pass, and the security we bring to our country.
Oh, what a flag-waver you are, John.
Thank you, bud.
How did the time come up?
It's just 8.30.
You came right out on the nose.
How about a drink?
No, I'll run along.
I have some work to do at the house tonight.
I had work to do, not in my apartment, but at Mitchell Field, Long Island.
I stood by my locker in my squadron's hangar and struggled into my G suit.
And when I took my helmet from the locker, I almost dropped it.
On the front was my name, Major John Martin A.N.G.
Any one of a dozen people would have seen it.
What was I doing anyway?
I wasn't a murderer.
This was fantastic.
Yet I found myself scraping the name from my helmet with my sheath knife.
And then I went to operations.
Yes?
I'm Captain Lynch, B.L. Lynch. I called this afternoon for an F-100 cross-country to L.A. in return.
Yes, Captain. She's on the line. Could I see your instrument card, please?
There you are.
Okay, Captain. Have a good flight.
Tower, this is Air National Guard Jet 4389. Request takeoff clearance.
4389, cleared for takeoff.
Roger.
4389, you are airborne at 2129. Good night.
Roger. Good night.
Off the ground at 2129. 929 p.m. New York time, 629 p.m. California time.
Millie would be putting Timmy to bed, probably.
Or does a two-year-old put himself to bed?
An hour ago I'd been speaking to the New York Press Club.
In a few hours I'd be in California.
The modern jet was incredible. Then I remembered what I was using it for, and I almost turned back.
But I pulled the computer out of my knee pocket and began to navigate.
Five hours later, after a refueling stop at Albuquerque, a vast glow in the west took shape.
The lights of Los Angeles were on.
I looked at my watch, not yet midnight on the coast. I'd made it on schedule.
It still all depended on catching the jet stream, going back.
Going back after what?
But now I had a landing to worry about, and then some fast talking to a refueling crew for the loan of a jeep.
The house looked rundown shabbier than when I'd left it.
Maybe she wasn't home.
Then I could climb into the jeep and go back to the airport.
Well, John Martin, what are you doing here?
I came to talk to you, Millie.
You sure don't waste any time. Come on in.
You still playing Junior Birdman? My beneficiary in your insurance? Have a drink.
No, thank you.
Do you mind if I have one? There. Now what do you want?
A divorce.
No.
Oh, Millie, there's no sense in our-
Unless you come back here to live, I'm calling you your boss. Is that clear?
But why? Why?
Because you're my husband. I don't like your horsing around with whoever you're horsing around with back there.
I won't stand it, see?
Why do you want me back? You don't love me. You know you don't.
Don't love you? Buster, I hate you. Hate you. Hate you. Hate you.
Oh, we woke him up. Now you'll ball right.
Do you care to take a look at your son?
Yes, yes, please.
See? You got to know your little boy, too. You can play baseball with him like a son of a-
Oh, Millie, you're drunk.
And if you're lucky, little tummy, maybe your daddy will teach you to forge chess.
Stop it, Millie.
Wouldn't you like to learn how to be a paper hanger, tummy?
Shut up, shut up, shut up, you witch, you dirty witch.
In just a moment, we continue with the third act of...
Suspense.
We have together ample capacity in freedom to defend freedom.
This is NATO, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.
NATO possesses a shield of well-equipped, highly trained land and sea forces,
plus tactical air support and special units.
The NATO shield extends from north of Norway to the eastern mountains of Antolia in Asian Turkey.
Complete disposition of forces is covered by a radar warning system,
plus a perfected network of telecommunications,
enabling this supreme commander to direct operations with extreme rapidity over a 2,000-mile front.
The United States of America is a part of NATO.
You should be aware of and alert to the programs and objectives of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.
And now...
Starring Frank Lovejoy, act three of Jet Stream.
I looked down at the body of my wife next to Timmy's crib.
From then on, something seemed to take over, some instinctive self-preservation perhaps.
I slipped on my flight clothes.
I knocked over a Mickey Mouse clock in Timmy's room as if in a struggle so they'd know the time of the murder.
I went through Millie's bureau and took what cash I found. I ripped her bed to pieces.
Then I went back to the nursery.
For a long moment, I stood looking down at my son.
Would a burglar kill him too?
It would be easy if it would help confuse them.
Mommy, I want my mommy!
I suddenly was sick with shame.
I turned and ran out of the house.
Sergeant, is that Jet Stream still active?
I hope to tell you, if you can find it, it's at 45,000 feet, 190 knots.
190?
That's right. If you can find it, you'll be in New York before I get off watch.
You can't feel the Jet Stream any more than you can see it or understand it,
but you can tell when you're in it because all your navigational estimates are wrong.
You're flying the beam, but you're passing your stations too fast.
Las Vegas? So soon?
And yet a radio range doesn't lie. I checked my computer.
I was in the Jet Stream, all right.
I was in a river of air that was giving me an additional 200 knots over the ground.
Now if I could just stay in it.
I was already picking up Denver.
Denver Omni. Denver Omni.
Denver Radio. This is Air National Guard Jet 4389 moving my Denver estimate up by 15 minutes.
4389, did you say 15 minutes?
Affirmative, Denver. 1-5-15.
Roger.
Now let me see. Denver to Omaha.
I would be half an hour ahead of schedule at Omaha, 45 minutes ahead at Detroit, and one hour at New York.
I knew now that I'd make it.
I opened the window in my office and let in the morning sounds of New York.
I looked at my watch. It was just past nine.
I'd made it. I'd even beaten the office people to work.
The shadow that had hovered over me for 15 years was gone. I should have been happy.
But instead, I was empty and lonely.
I heard Vicki arrive at her desk outside and flip down the intercom to call her, and I heard her talking to someone.
He may be late today.
Yeah, how'd you know?
He told me yesterday. Who are you anyway?
Lieutenant Berman from Homicide. His wife was murdered this morning in Los Angeles. We think he did it.
Murdered? But John couldn't have done it. He was giving a speech to the press club last night.
He was? Well, we'll check on that. Anyways, in Los Angeles now. Say, where does...
John! See, I told you.
Are you Martin?
Yes, yes, and you're...
Lieutenant Berman from Homicide. I have bad news for you, Mr. Martin, and an apology.
Bad news?
Yes, sir. About four hours ago, your wife was strangled in Los Angeles, apparently by a burglar. I'm sorry to have to tell you.
Oh, John.
We'll do everything we can to apprehend the killer, sir, but frankly, there aren't any clues. As your secretary will tell you, we even suspected you.
That's all right.
What's the matter, John?
His wife was murdered this morning, Mr. Lynch.
Oh, no, John.
Hey, which one of you guys is Lynch?
Uh, hi, I'm why?
You an Air National Guard pilot?
Yeah.
I'm Johnson from the nose of boss sent me over to take your picture.
Me? Why?
It's that hop you made last night to L.A. and back.
Why?
You just stepped away over here by the...
John, what went wrong?
I don't know. I thought we were in the clear.
What do you mean, we? Leave me out of this.
You're nuts. I haven't flown for a month. Los Angeles and back, you said.
So you didn't happen to visit your buddy's wife while you were there, did you?
Don't be ridiculous. I had a drink at the club after the meeting was home by 10. Ask my wife.
Oh, Vicki, I guess this is it.
John!
I made the flight, Lieutenant. I used his name.
What, John? He's crazy, Lieutenant. He's in my squadron, but...
Well, he'd need my instrument card for one thing.
Where is that?
Here, in my desk.
It's gone.
And who has the key beside you?
Nobody. Just Vicki.
I see.
You're not gonna make anything out of that.
We might.
I'd like to see you try.
All right, Martin, let's go.
See, Johnson, don't these National Guard jokers fly cross-country all the time?
What's so special about this?
Geez, Lieutenant, I thought I told you. This guy hooked onto that jet stream they talk about.
Under 11 hours to L.A. in fact.
The National Guard figures he broke the world's record.
What did you say?
He broke the world's record.
John, did you hear him? You broke the world's record.
You idiot! You stupid, stupid idiot!
All right, Miss. All right, you better come along, too.
Suspense.
In which Frank Lovejoy starred in William N. Robeson's production of Jet Stream by Michael Frost.
Supporting Mr. Lovejoy in Jet Stream were Alan Morgan, Virginia Gregg, James McCallion, Harry Bartel, Norm Holden, and Sam Pearce.
Listen.
Listen again next week when we return with another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Suspense has been brought to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television.
Suspense has been brought to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.
Suspense.
Suspense.
Suspense.