And now, another tale well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense.
Dead Man's Story, written for suspense by Robert Arthur.
The time, late on a foggy night.
The place, a room on New York's west side near the docks,
where the faint hooting of fog horns comes in the window.
Lying on the bed, a man listens to them and knows that beyond those walls, windows, and locked door,
ten thousand men of the New York City police force are looking for him.
Then comes a knock on the door, which means life or living death.
I'd like to ask you a question.
Have you ever been on a shipwreck and drowned at sea?
No, I don't expect you to answer that.
But just in case you're wondering, I can tell you it's a very interesting experience.
My name, Larry King.
My record, one term at Sing Sing, one term at Plattsburgh, one term at Auburn Prison.
Three terms, all for acquiring sums of money that weren't legally mine.
Making me a three-time loser.
A very uncomfortable position to be in, especially since there was a fourth charge against me
and I was hiding out, quite broke and without much hope when she came to my rescue, as she had so often before.
Larry. Larry, it's Julia.
Julia, Julia, come in quickly.
How'd you find me?
Steve phoned me.
Oh, Larry, why did you do it?
Very good question.
Just a bad habit, I guess.
But you promised.
I never was very good at keeping promises, was I?
At this time, you'd be sentenced for life.
Now, that's occurred to me, Julia.
But you, you shouldn't have come here.
I couldn't leave it.
Leave you here to be caught.
You always turn up when I need you, Julia.
Why?
Because I remember the good things about you, not the bad.
The good things about our four years together.
It's time you thought of yourself now.
Your present husband, a bank executive, he wouldn't like to know that you still come to my help.
I can't help it.
You'll have to get out of the country.
I'll raise the money, sell some of my jewels.
Steve will help me find a freighter captain who will take you to South America.
Will you let me do this one last thing for you, Larry?
Yes, Julia.
And I promise not to come back.
Three days later, Julia got a message to me.
I slipped up and met her down by the docks.
We went on board and the captain led us down a corridor.
This way.
Be very quiet.
Yes, of course.
This is the cabin.
Do you have the money?
This envelope.
It's a twenty-one hundred dollar bill.
Old bills.
Good.
We sail in five minutes.
Oh, baby.
This is it.
I was never any good at saying goodbye.
I know.
It doesn't matter.
Here's a passport.
Your name is Charles Riker now.
And here's three thousand dollars.
All I could raise.
You won't get into trouble about the jewelry?
No.
Tom will never notice it's gone.
Julia.
Yes?
In spite of everything, I want you to know that there was never anyone else for me but you.
Larry.
That's it, Julia?
Yes.
Of course.
Goodbye, Larry.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, sweetheart.
Half an hour later from the port hall of my cabin, I could see the lights of Manhattan fading away.
It had nothing to do with the weight.
The ocean rolled away behind us.
The weather grew milder.
And on the seventeenth day, we entered a Honduran port.
As soon as we docked, I met the captain on deck.
Are you ready to go ashore, senor?
Ready as I'll ever be.
You have a passport?
I have a passport.
I am not expecting trouble.
One hope's not, but it is easy to be sure, senor.
How?
The customs officer is my friend. For $1,000, I can guarantee no trouble.
You can, can you?
And if I don't pay off, you might just tip a word to the customs officer?
No, senor, I did not say that.
And maybe the money would wind up in your pocket?
I smell a rat and it's you.
It is a mistake to speak to me this way. We should be friends.
Friends? Listen to your chiseler.
You're not putting the squeeze on me. You see what I have in my pocket?
A gun. Senor, I warn you.
We're walking down that gangplank together.
If things go smoothly, fine. If they don't, I'll shoot.
You? You would not dare.
It wouldn't be any worse for me than returning to the States to face life imprisonment.
In fact, the idea of shooting you rather appeals to me.
Senor makes a very funny joke. There will be no trouble.
There wasn't any trouble.
Half an hour later, I had a tiny room in a fourth-rate hotel, hot as a baker's oven,
and was stretched out on a sagging bed listening to bad mambo music
and staring at the cracked spiders and flies in the ceiling.
This was freedom.
But I was already beginning to wonder if it wasn't overrated.
As the weeks went by, I wondered more.
The food, if anything, was better at Sing Sing.
I couldn't work, you see. I couldn't leave. I couldn't do anything except save my money
and see how long it could hold out.
This might have gone on for a year if it hadn't been for my visitor one evening.
Come in.
Oh, I thought it was a houseboy. Afraid you got the wrong room, mister.
I don't think so, King. I'm Lieutenant Sanders of the New York police.
Oh, you sure you got the right party?
I was never more sure of anything.
How'd you find me?
An anonymous letter a couple of weeks ago, somebody who couldn't write English very well.
Yeah, that figures. But suppose I say I'm not going back with you?
I have the extradition papers. In the end, you'll have to go.
How'll you have it? Easy or hard?
Well, to tell you the truth, I'm tired of this place.
Have a drink.
That cop Sanders wasn't a bad guy. I spent a day showing him the sights.
Then we went aboard the freighter SS Port Royal, loaded with bauxite,
off for the trip back to the States.
After a week, we put in in a Caymanera Cuba to load deck cargo.
Next morning, we weighed anchor and started through the winter passage.
It was then, with New York the next stop, that I really began to wonder
if I'd done the right thing in giving in so easily.
Oh, it's time to turn in.
Want a nightcap?
No, no, thanks.
All right, put out your left hand.
What for?
I'm handcuffing you to the bunk.
Why? Where would I go?
I've been a cop long enough to know what a prisoner is thinking.
We're in the Bahama Channel now, passing one island after another.
It wouldn't be too tough to cut a life raft loose.
Ha ha ha, you got me all wrong.
I'm playing it safe. Put out your hand.
Oh, now look at this, Hannity.
What's wrong? That's the emergency signal.
We got the Hannity.
The bunk's out of the...
Sanders, Sanders!
It's my chest.
See if you can lift the bunk off my chest.
Sure, sure. Just hang on.
You hear that? Means trouble.
They're abandoning Chip.
Take it easy.
I'll help you.
I'll run to there in a minute.
There's no use. My legs are pinned.
Chip's sinking. Dex, are you ready?
I'll get help.
What is it? What's wrong?
The door. I can't open it. It's jammed.
Try breaking it down. Hurry!
I can't. I can't break it. It's metal.
Well, try yelling.
Help! Help! We're in cabin two. Help!
There's no answer.
Everyone's getting off the ship fast.
There go the lights.
Feel this listing?
We're going down fast.
Must have ripped a big hole in it.
Help! Get us out of here! Get us out!
There's no use. They've all gone.
Notice how quiet it is?
Yes.
We're below the surface.
We're going down now to the bottom.
Feel the pressure in your ears?
We can't be going down yet. There's no water in here.
We're still breathing.
The ship must hold an air pocket.
That's the only reason we aren't dead.
But we're living on borrowed time.
In just a moment, we will return for the second act of...
Suspense.
Two hours later, we were still alive.
We shouldn't have been where we were.
The deck slanted at a 35 degree angle and everything was completely silent.
Except for the beating of our hearts.
King?
Yes, Lieutenant.
I don't feel so good.
Every breath feels like the last.
But we're still alive.
While there's life, there's hope.
Some hope?
Two men trapped in a cabin full of air in a sinking ship 50 feet underwater.
Who's going to come by and rescue us?
You never can tell.
What was that?
Cargo shifting.
All kids are getting away, maybe.
Feel the ship move.
We're rolling to a different angle now.
What was that?
The ship unjammed the cabin door.
It just swung open.
Using my cigarette lighter for light, I explored.
Just a few feet below us was the water.
Black and rippling a little as the ship shifted with the movement of the cargo.
Up ahead were a couple of cabins I could enter.
And a heavy door that I didn't dare open lest I let the air out.
I found a jug of water and an iron rod I could use as a crowbar.
And I got the lieutenant from under the fallen bunks and gave him some water.
It was all I could do.
Thanks, King.
But I guess pretty soon you'll have a little more air for yourself.
What do you mean?
I'm dying, I can tell.
Look, it was you who just said while there's life, there's hope.
Just whistling in the dark.
Here goes the cargo again.
You feel the ship shift?
We're carrying bauxite off Brazil. It slides easily.
This is a slant.
There it is again.
The whole ship's vibrating.
My guess is some of the hull plates near the bow have been ripped open.
The ore is pouring out of the holds into the sea.
It stopped.
And we're moving.
Listen.
It's here.
Air bubbling out?
We're in.
We're moving.
We're going up.
You feel that jerk?
Why? What's happening?
We've lost thousands of tons of ore.
The ship's lighter.
The trapped air is taking us up.
You think we'll reach the surface?
I don't know.
Look out the porthole.
The water seems to be getting lighter.
Listen.
If the ship reaches the surface, we only stay a few seconds, then dive to the bottom.
We won't have much time to get out.
You mean we won't? Come on, I'm taking you up to the deck.
With Sanders on my back, I pulled myself inch by inch up this deeply sloping corridor.
I could feel the ship jerking and shuddering as we rose.
The sound of water and air bubbling grew louder.
I reached the companion way.
Suddenly, the ship jerked and plunged, throwing us against this middle wall with a tremendous splash that came almost level in the water.
We were on the surface.
I dragged Lieutenant Sanders up the rest of the way and kicked open the door.
The ship was still rolling.
There was a breeze in my face.
I was almost blinded by the sun in my eyes.
We can't.
We made it.
Do you expect to see sunshine again?
Make it fast.
It may go under any second.
I'll make it fast.
Here's a life raft. I have to get the last of the sun tires.
Hurry, man. Hurry.
It's coming.
These last things are half-untied. We should be working on them earlier.
There.
Now, let's slide down into the water.
There, that does it.
Now we can get off this ship, Lieutenant.
Can you?
Lieutenant.
In just a moment, we will return for the concluding act of...
Suspense.
The sun is rising.
The lieutenant lay looking up at the sky.
His eyes wide open.
But he was dead.
I helped myself to the money in his wallet and the passport.
He wouldn't need them where he was going.
Then I slid down to the life raft and began paddling away.
Ten minutes later, the port royals slid under for good.
And I was alone on a calm sea with nothing in sight but sky and air.
Two days later, I drifted onto a large island.
I burned the life raft and started walking.
In a few miles, I found a native village.
I was on the island of Great Inagua, some 100 miles northeast of Cuba.
I bought passage on a fishing boat to Cuba.
And two weeks later, I managed to slip into Miami.
Without even thinking about it, I headed for New York by bus.
When I got there, I phoned Julia.
The Wentworth residence.
My name is Ryker, Charles Ryker, and I'd like to speak to Mrs. Wentworth.
Mrs. Julia Wentworth, please.
I'm sorry, sir, but that's impossible.
But it's very important. If you'll give her my name, it'll...
Haven't you seen the paper, sir?
The papers?
Yes, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth were in an automobile accident last night.
Both were in critical condition.
Do you hurt?
Yes, sir.
What hospital?
General Hospital, sir.
I'm sorry, sir, but you can't go in that room.
I have to see Mrs. Wentworth. I'm a personal friend.
I'm sorry. No one can see her. Mrs. Wentworth is on the critical list.
Please, just for a minute.
It's really quite impossible.
But I've got to see her. Talk to her.
She's been unconscious for hours.
Now, I'll have to ask you to leave.
But when she regains consciousness, can I see her then?
Only if you're a member of her immediate family or her attorney.
Now, this way, please.
As I left the hospital, I remember that once Julia had said that John Werby was the family lawyer.
I had to see her, and he could arrange it.
I found his office in the phone book and went there, and an hour later, got to see him.
You say your name is King.
Lawrence King?
Yes, Mr. Werby.
Julia probably never mentioned me to you, but you may know that we were once married.
Oh, yes, I know. In fact, I know your name very well.
But I can't get over your being alive.
Both you and Sanders were reported dead.
Survivors saw the ship go down.
It came up again.
Just soon, everybody thought I was dead.
Mr. Werby, I have to see Julia. I must see her.
If only to let her know that I'm still alive.
I'm very sorry, Mr. King.
Very sorry?
Both Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth are dead.
No, no.
He died an hour ago. She, half an hour.
She...
She was dying while I was in there in the hospital.
I'm afraid so.
Julia, you're dead.
Can't believe it.
Believe me, I sympathize fully.
Mr. King.
Yes?
The fact that Mrs. Wentworth lived half an hour longer than her husband is very important to you.
I don't see how.
Mr. Wentworth's entire estate went to Mrs. Wentworth.
Almost four million dollars.
What does it matter?
She's dead.
It matters a great deal.
If Mrs. Wentworth had died first, her husband's estate would have gone to charity.
Instead, it goes to her.
She left a will.
In that will, she leaves her estate to you.
To me?
Yes, almost four million dollars.
Less inheritance taxes, of course.
This is rather funny.
I'm afraid I don't see anything amusing.
Aren't you forgetting that I'm dead?
I went down in the Port Royal.
There were witnesses.
It will be a simple matter to establish the fact that you're still alive.
And once it's established, I'll go to prison as a four-time loser, which means a life sentence.
Yes, I'd forgotten that.
I can do one or two things.
I can walk out of here, disappear, and go on living as Charles Ryker and let the police think I'm dead.
Or I can claim the estate and become the richest man in Sing Sing.
Quite a choice, isn't it?
Yes, a rather difficult choice.
Which will it be, Mr. King?
Which will it be?
That's a good question, isn't it?
A very good question.
I've been thinking about it for quite a while, and I still haven't come up with an answer.
If it was you, what would your choice be?
Suspense.
You've been listening to Dead Man's Story, written for suspense by Robert Arthur.
In a moment, the names of our players and the word about next week's story of suspense.
Heard in tonight's story were Kevin McCarthy as Larry, Rebecca Sand as Julia, and Sam Gray as Sanders.
Also included in the cast were Joseph Boland, Guy Rep, Ruth Tobin, and Richard Kendrick.
Listen again next week when we return with Out the Window by William N. Robeson, another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
The latest news followers then have gone will travel on CBS Radio.