Suspense. And the producer of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, the master of mystery
and adventure, William N. Robeson.
With your permission, we will on this occasion drop the editorial we and speak in the first
person. 25 years ago this week, I entered the infant radio industry as a writer at Station
K.H.J. in Los Angeles. My quarter century in broadcasting has been filled with excitement
and some boredom, failure and some success, fun and quite a few heartaches. Much of the
excitement, success and fun I have known in radio has been shared through the years with
that unexcelled mistress of the microphone, the first lady of suspense, Miss Agnes Moorhead.
So it is Miss Moorhead I have asked to share my silver anniversary program. Listen then
as Agnes Moorhead stars in the chain, which begins in exactly one minute.
Memo on medals. Time out to discuss some interesting but little known facts about decorations and
awards of America's armed services. The time limit on rewarding an act of bravery with
a medal is 36 months. According to current regulations, no award can be made more than
three years after the actual performance of the act or service being honored. To date,
the only woman ever awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross was Amelia Earhart. By special
act of Congress, she was voted this medal for her daring solo flight across the Atlantic
Ocean on July 2, 1932. It was President Woodrow Wilson who created the Army Distinguished
Service Cross by executive order in January of 1918. This is our next highest award for
valorous service after the Medal of Honor and corresponds to the British Military Cross
or the Croix de Guerre of France, Belgium and Italy. There is a story behind every American
medal awarded to the military, a proud story of devotion to country, an unselfish service
to keep it strong and free.
And now, The Chain, starring Agnes Moorhead. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
All I did was send a letter, that's all. You can't blame me for what happened. I didn't
start it. Hundreds of people do it every day. I've always been a good wife. By the morning
it started, I was fixing George's breakfast. Not just toast like some women, but bacon
and eggs and hot biscuits.
Coffee ready?
Where have you been? Your bacon is burned to a crisp.
I said I only wanted fruit juice and coffee. I went down to the road to pick up the mail.
Why do you always run for the mail? Are you expecting something you don't want me to see,
George?
If there was anything I didn't want you to see, I could have it sent to the office.
Oh, could you? I didn't know you were important enough to receive personal mail at the office.
Leonora, that's enough. Burt Reynolds was appointed district manager. I should have
gotten the job, but I didn't. Now, let's forget about it.
Well, maybe you can forget about it, but Abby Reynolds won't let me forget. She has a couple
to do her work now. She can spend half her day in town, but not Leonora Carpenter. No,
poor Leonora is stranded out here without a car, without anything.
Here's your coffee. What was in the mail?
Just this letter for you.
For me? Where was it from?
I don't know, Leonora. I don't open your mail.
Well, you needn't be so sarcastic. Oh dear, for my cousin Emily. One of those ridiculous
chain letters.
This letter was started by a holy man in Tibet to end all evil. You must make two copies
and mail them to others within 24 hours or the chain will be broken. Whoever breaks the
chain will meet with evil. A Navy pilot broke the chain and was killed in a crash two days
later. Such a ridiculous thing. Now, who can I send it to?
Well, you can burn it and not send it to anybody.
Well, maybe you don't think so, but I think our luck is bad enough as it is. I could send
one to Abby Reynolds, of course, but I'd have to sign my name to it.
She'd tear it up.
Yeah, she would. That would be just like Abby. What's the name of the couple they hired?
I don't know. Kirsch, something or other. Kirchowski, Peter Kirchowski.
You're not thinking of sending a copy to him.
Why not, George? Why not?
Well, it's absurd. Why you don't even know the man.
Well, I send one to him and he sends one to Abby.
He probably won't send it to anybody.
But he will, George. He's a foreigner, isn't he? And they're all so superstitious. You'd
have to send it to him and not even know anybody else.
Suit yourself. Need anything from town?
No.
Time for me to be getting down to the office then.
You never used to leave so early, George. You used to eat a big breakfast.
I'm just not hungry.
Well, maybe you'll be hungry by the time you get to town. And you'll have time for a second
breakfast at the drugstore.
Maybe.
You might even meet Miss Holden. She probably has her breakfast there.
Leonora!
She's very pretty, George. Not at all like your former secretary.
Betty Holden is a very efficient girl. If she's pretty, I've never noticed it.
Well, notice it, George. Notice it while you're having your second breakfast.
I'll see you at dinner, Leonora.
George didn't fool me a bit. He never did. After I cleaned up the kitchen, I sat down
with a letter. I made a copy and addressed it to Mr. Peter Kurczewski, care of Mrs. Abby
Reynolds. And then I made a second copy.
Whoever breaks the chain will meet with evil.
Then I sealed it in an envelope and addressed it to Miss Betty Holden.
Leonora!
Here I am, George, in the living room.
Leonora, why in the devil did you send that silly letter to my secretary?
Well, it said send two copies and that's what I did.
Well, why Miss Holden?
Well, why not?
Because it was a stupid and a childish thing to do.
Is that what she said?
She's too much of a lady, but that's what she thought and so did I.
You and Miss Holden seem to think very much alike. It's a pity you're not married to
her.
Yes, Leonora, it is a pity.
So it's true then. You two agree that I'm stupid and childish. Well, what other agreements
do you have, George?
Leonora, if you don't stop, so help me or I'll fight...
Go ahead and hit me, George, because of a secretary who means nothing to you. Go ahead.
Go ahead and hit me.
No, that wouldn't do any good, Leonora. You're not worth it.
I knew they were talking about me. I could see it in their faces every time I went into
town. They always blame the woman when something goes wrong, but they didn't know what George
was like. I started going into town every day, whether I had to or not, to show them
I had nothing to be ashamed of. Thursday was the day Abby Reynolds did her shopping in
the Bontan and I planned to meet her there accidentally.
Leonora! Leonora!
Oh, hello, Abby.
I tried to phone you this morning.
Oh? Well, I've been in town all day.
There's something I have to tell you. Bert and I know you meant no harm, but...
So George has been criticizing me to Bert.
Why, no, dear. I mean about the letter, the chain letter you sent to Peter Kurczewski.
Well, what harm could that do, Abby?
None. That's what Bert tried to tell him, but he's a very strange man. And well, you
see, Leonora, his wife died yesterday.
Oh, no. No, Abby. But what has that got to...
He got the letter a few days ago. He can't read English, so he usually brings what little
mail he gets to Bert. But his wife got sick that morning and he took her to the hospital.
He didn't ring the letter to Bert until this morning and without thinking, of course...
Bert read it to him?
He tried to reason with a poor man, but Mr. Kurczewski didn't seem to hear. He just kept
staring. And then he turned and walked out of the house.
He blames me? He thinks it's my fault?
Why did you ever send it to him, Leonora? Why did you pick him?
Well, I meant no harm, Abby. I swear it. I meant no harm.
In a moment, we continue with the second act of...
Suspense.
Another visit with Joe and Daphne Forsythe.
Joe?
Uh-huh?
Do you think we can afford a vacation this year?
Well, I don't know. Let's see. The car could stand some work. Then there's that share we've
been meaning to buy and I guess we could always cash in a savings bond or two.
What?
I said we could cash in one of our bonds.
Joseph, don't you dare.
Well, I was just suggesting...
Don't even think about it. Those bonds are our future. When they mature, we'll get back
four dollars for every three.
Yeah, I know that.
They're guaranteed, too. Three times over. Principal, interest, and replacement if lost
or stolen. The whole United States stands behind them.
Sure, Daphne, but we...
Well, if we cash them in before they mature, we'll be giving up all that lovely interest.
And what happens when we really need the money?
Daphne...
I don't see how you, who thought of buying a bond every payday in the first place, could
suggest such a thing.
I guess maybe it was a moment of weakness.
Well, don't you ever bring it up again. Savings bonds are not only a good investment for us,
but they help our country, too. Shame on you, Joe.
I'm ashamed. I'm covered with humiliation. I hate myself.
I should think so.
Okay, if I go back to reading my paper now?
Uh-huh. But Joe, I was just wondering...
Yeah?
Do you really think we can afford a vacation this year?
Now. Starring Miss Agnes Moorhead. Act Two of The Chain.
The country hill bus wasn't due for half an hour, so I decided to walk home. I crossed
the wooden bridge over the river and turned off the main road up the hill. Really wasn't
far, and a few minutes later I was home. Almost home. As I turned in at my gate, a man stepped
out of the bushes.
Hello, Mrs. Carpenter.
Who are you?
You don't know Peter Kurkiewski, huh?
Yes, I do.
You stay away from me. Stay away from me, do you hear?
You don't know man you sent letters to, huh? You're afraid, are you, Mrs. Carpenter?
Why are you afraid? You killed my wife. You're afraid I'll kill you?
I swung my handbag across his dirty face, and as he staggered back, I dropped the bag
and ran. Ran across the lawn and up the steps to the front door, but my key was in my purse.
Then I remembered the spare key under the doormat. I got it and unlocked the door. As
he pounded up the porch steps, I slammed the door in his face and locked it.
Come out! Come out, Mrs. Carpenter!
You go away! You go with you here! You leave me alone!
You can't get away from me! Nobody around to help you! You don't get away! I wait for
you!
I leaned against the door, trying to get my breath. I could feel Kurkiewski on the other
side of it like a big crazy ape. I raced through the house. The kitchen door was locked, and
so were the storm windows on the lower floor. I ran upstairs to the bedroom. George's service
revolver was in the bureau. I got it and opened the window.
Come down, Mrs. Carpenter! You get off this property!
You come down! Look, I've got a gun and I know how to use it,
do you understand? You killed my wife, Mrs. Carpenter!
I didn't! I did not! I never even knew her! You hanged me there, though! Then she died!
You go away! I warn you! I'll shoot! Go ahead! Shoot! Shoot!
I didn't kill him. He started back away across the clearing. I fired again, and again, and
again! But I couldn't hit him! He backed into the trees at the end of the property!
You're going to pay for what you do, Mrs. Carpenter! I come back! I see you again! You're going
to pay!
I gripped the gun and waited until I saw him going down the road toward town. And then
I unlocked the bedroom door and clipped down the stairs to the telephone.
Number, please. 3417. One minute.
Castle Insurance Company, Mr. Reynolds speaking. Bert, this is Leonora.
Yes, Leonora. Let me speak to George, please. I'm sorry. He's out for the afternoon making
some calls. Is Miss Holden there? No, I think George gave her the afternoon off. Oh, I see.
Anything I can do for you, Leonora? No, no, Bert. Did you tell George about Kurchevsky
and the letter? Yes, Leonora. I told him, and he told me why you sent it. Now, is there
anything else I can do for you? If George comes in, will you... I'll tell him to call
you. Goodbye, Leonora. Bert, I meant no...
George knew. He knew when Betty Holden knew. She was with him in town, keeping him there.
This is what they wanted. They wanted something to happen to me. Well, there was still a police.
I can't arrest him for attempted murder. There isn't even enough evidence for simple assault.
After all, it was you who fired a gun at him. Well, haven't I the right to protect myself
in my own house? In the house, yes, ma'am, but you were behind locked doors firing at a
man out in the open. If you'd killed him, you'd have been charged with murder. Now, if you're
smart, you'll drop dead. You've got to find that man and arrest him. I demand it. All
right, ma'am, and all I can charge him with is trespassing. Oh. We can hold him until
his fine is paid, and that's all. I don't care what you charge him with. Arrest him. Arrest
him. Just arrest him. Arrest him. It began to get dark after the police left, and I sat
there listening to every sound. Then it started to rain. I heard it against the roof and the
windows, and it frightened me. If somebody came up to the house, I wouldn't be able to
hear them. Seven o'clock came, then eight, nine, ten. I didn't dare turn on a light.
I heard the hum of a motor and the strange sound it made skidding along Country Hill
Road. It was George. It just had to be George. The headlights flashed through the windows
as the car turned into the drive, and a moment later I heard his key in the lock.
Deonora.
Surprised to see me, George?
Well, all the lights were out. I thought you were in bed.
Is that what you thought? Is that why you waited so long to come home? Where were you?
Where I go is no longer any concern of yours.
You were with her.
All right, Deonora, I was for the first peaceful evening in ten years, but not the last.
What are you saying, George?
I'm going to divorce you, Deonora. I'm moving into the hotel in town.
I'll stop you, George. There isn't anything I won't do to stop you.
Oh, I know. I can depend on you for that.
What does mean anything to you, George? You don't know what I've been through. You don't know what happened today.
I know you tried to kill a man with my gun.
How? How do you know that?
Everybody knows it. The police are looking for Krzysztofski.
You have no feeling about what you've done to that poor, confused man, have you?
I haven't done anything to him, the superstitious idiot. All I did was send a silly letter. That didn't kill his wife.
Well, I don't want to talk about it. All I want is my clothes.
You can't have them. I won't let you.
Well, then I can get others. Goodbye, Deonora.
I forbid you to leave this house.
Get out of my way.
George, no, I'm your wife. Remember how things used to be with us?
Let go of me.
They can be that way again, George.
Get out of my way.
George, don't leave me. Don't leave me.
I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. The rain got heavier. It pounded on the windows like somebody tapping on the glass.
Each time the lightning flashed, I could see the wet ribbon of the main highway down below and the river beginning to wash over the bridge.
A shutter tore loose and started a bang, then...
Hello?
Hello, Mrs. Carpenter?
Yes. Yes, who is it?
Lieutenant Marsh, police headquarters.
Have you found Krzysztofski?
Yes, the boys brought him in a half hour ago. I did all I could.
What do you mean?
Trespassing is a minor charge, Mrs. Carpenter. Bail was set at $25 and Mr. Reynolds just came in and bailed him out.
You mean he's free? You let him get away? Well, you've got to send somebody up here. You can't leave me alone if he's loose.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Carpenter. This is a storm emergency. Besides, the bridge is washed out and I'm tying up a line talking to you. Good night.
Lieutenant! Lieutenant!
Operator.
Operator, get me Mr. George Carpenter at the Clearview Hotel.
Sorry, but the lines are open for emergency service.
But I must speak to him. I just must. I...
I'm sorry. We only have three circuits left open for emergency calls.
But this is an emergency. I tell you, it's a matter of life and death.
One moment. I have a clear line now. Please make your call. Please.
All right. All right.
Hello?
George! George, it's Leonora. You've got to help me, please. They arrested Kerchevsky, but Mert Reynolds bailed him out.
I know what Mert told me.
You know it? You let him do it. You want me to be killed.
He took Kerchevsky home and put him to bed.
But he won't stay there. He's crazy. You've got to come out here, George. I need you.
The bridge is out.
Well, you'll find a way to get here. Oh, do you want me to go mad, George? I'll give you your divorce. I won't fight it. I promise you, George. Only don't let me die.
Leonora, you're hysterical. It's after midnight. I...
George? George! Oh, please! George! George!
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.
Nations of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization have given their solemn guarantee that an attack upon one is an attack upon all.
And such attack will be resisted with all forces available.
The NATO alliance will never be used for aggression.
The United States of America is a part of NATO.
You should be aware of and alert to the objectives and programs of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.
And now...
Starring Miss Agnes Moorhead, Act Three of The Chain.
The line was dead. Dead like I was going to be dead.
Krzysztofski would come. They didn't know it, but I did. So I sat there and waited.
And then the rain stopped and the moon came out.
I sat there listening to the ticking of the clock.
It struck one, then two.
And then I heard someone moving outside.
I remembered what the officer had said. I couldn't shoot him until he broke into the house.
He was fumbling with the door. He was forcing something into the lock. And then it clicked.
The door swung open. He was framed in the center of it and I fired.
I knew he was dead. But I could feel him behind me, chasing me.
I ran down the hill to the river. It had almost burst its banks.
But there was a boat coming across.
I could hear the sound of the oar locks as it came closer.
I was crying with relief.
The boat scraped under the shadow of the willows and I ran down to it.
Hello! Oh, hello! Hello!
Hello, Mrs. Carpenter.
No! No!
It was Gatchevsky. He came closer. His hands reached out for my throat.
Hello, Mrs. Carpenter.
No, you're dead. You can't hurt me. You're dead.
My wife, she's dead.
You're hurting me. Let me go. Let go of me.
Don't move, Mrs. Carpenter. My hands are big, strong hands.
I could break your neck easy. Just one trick.
My husband was the one. He told me to send the letter.
I didn't want to. He made me.
You lie, lady. Your husband is good man.
Gatchevsky.
Don't you like to die, Mrs. Carpenter? You like to write letters?
You like other people to die?
I didn't mean to shoot you. I thought you were hurt.
I was coming down to get a doctor for you.
But you just came across the river.
You couldn't have gotten down here before me.
George. It was George up at the house.
I killed George.
You killed your husband?
I thought it was you. I'm here. I'm here.
You want to kill me, but you kill him.
You killed your husband, Mrs. Carpenter.
You killed him. Now they make you pay.
It was an accident, I tell you. It was an accident.
Let me go. Let me go.
Sure, I let you go now, Mrs. Carpenter.
Go on, lady. Run. Run.
Only where you got to run to.
Suspense.
In which Miss Agnes Moorhead starred in William M. Robeson's production of
The Chain by Joel Murcott.
Supporting Miss Moorhead in The Chain were
Ellen Morgan, John McIntyre, Jane Ovello, Herb Ellis, and Larry Dobkin.
Listen. Listen again next week when we return with Everett Sloan in Game Hunt.
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 Service.
Thank you.