Another tale well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense.
The City That Was, written for suspense by Richard Weil.
When you need someone to do a specific type of job, you hire someone specially trained to do that job.
After all, this is an age of specialization.
But what you may not know is that right now there are several hundred thousand men and women
who have received special training and are searching for employment.
Now these folks, many of whom are veterans, have physical handicaps,
which actually often makes them better able to fill specific jobs.
Does that sound strange?
Well, maybe so, but here's the explanation.
These men and women, recognizing their shortcomings, have sought and received special rehabilitation
and training in specific areas of work.
They are highly skilled because they've been taught to make best use of the physical and mental abilities they possess.
So if you're looking for help, contact your state employment service and ask about physically handicapped workers.
Employing the physically handicapped is good business.
It is now 50 years since the first motion picture was made
amidst the orange groves of a sleepy little California village called Hollywood
and a latter-day gold rush began.
Hollywood quickly became a sprawling, brawling boomtown.
And true to the tradition of the Western frontier,
a tradition it helped to create and has fondly fostered,
Hollywood lived violently.
And not a few of its citizens died violently, with and sometimes without their boots on.
The stakes were high, worldwide fame and undreamt of fortune.
And the passions that poured onto the silver screen
sometimes spilled over into private lives with lethal results.
In a moment, The City That Was by Richard Wythe.
This Halloween, when your doorbell rings,
give those little trick-or-treaters a treat they'll never forget.
Snap their picture and give them a print.
But before next Monday night rolls around,
get several packs of Sylvania Blue Dot Flashbulbs,
the world's largest selling brand.
Because only with Flash can you catch all the fun and color of Halloween.
Only with Flash can you get all the clear, sharp details.
What's more, Flashbulbs work with any film, anytime, day or night,
anywhere, with any camera.
So this week, when you're out shopping,
be sure and ask for Sylvania Blue Dot Flashbulbs.
And also ask for your free 32-page Flash Guidebook,
designed by Sylvania to help you take better Flash pictures.
Remember, it's yours free with the purchase of only one pack of Sylvania Blue Dots.
But hurry, the witches will be flying before you know it.
So get your Sylvania Blue Dot Flashbulbs today.
Hollywood of 35 years ago.
There was a town for you. It flamed with color.
It bubbled with intrigue. And it frequently simmered with sin.
Gods and goddesses strolled the boulevard in those days
and rode to the studio in their $20,000 custom-built Rolls Royces.
It was the era of Valentino and Mabel Norman and Wallace Reed,
of Barbara Lamar and William Desmond Taylor and William S. Hart.
And the great Vamps, Nita Nalde, Polo Negre, and Peter Barrow.
It was the era, too, of Anthony Kendall,
matinee idol turned movie king,
and his leading lady, Rena Shalfonte, who used to be called
the Golden Flame of the Silver Screen.
You must remember them.
And how they were tied up with the Corsica killing?
All the facts of that poor celebra were not told at the time,
but they can be told now.
And this is what really happened that rainy night in November 35 years ago.
Tony and Rena had finished a long day's shooting.
It was nearly 7 o'clock when Tony tooled his big white Cunningham roadster
into the driveway of his Whitley Heights estate.
He stopped the car under the arch of the entrance gate.
And was reaching for the electric control button.
And a masked figure with a gun stepped out from the darkness.
All right, hold it right there.
What is this?
The end of the line for you, big shot.
Oh, no.
Oh, yeah.
Here's where your boyfriend gets what's coming to him.
Tony, it's Bart Malloy.
Now, that wasn't very smart to recognize me, Rena.
Now, you go with him.
All right, Bart, cut the melodrama.
You're drunk.
Now, go on home and sleep it off.
I'll see you at the studio tomorrow.
There isn't going to be any tomorrow for you two.
Because I'm going to...
Look out, Bart, behind you.
Let go of that gun, Bart.
Let go of it.
Oh, you don't.
I said I'd kill you.
No, I say...
That's better.
Now, I'll just unload it so nobody can get hurt.
Here.
You can have it back now.
Now, go on home and get some shut-eye.
I'll see you in the morning.
So you can fire me in front of the whole crew?
How did you know we were going to fire...
Not we, you.
I heard all about it an hour ago.
Alec Benson didn't want to let me out.
You're the one who cut my throat.
So you might as well call the cops and do the complete job on me.
I have no intention of calling the cops.
Why not?
That would make your day perfect.
Now, look, Bart, suppose we forget all about this, hmm?
All three of us.
Right, Rena?
Of course.
Gee, that's big of you.
Both of you.
Maybe someday I can pay you back.
Now, go on home, Bart.
You need sleep.
Sure, that's all I need.
Just a little sleep.
And thanks, Tony.
Thanks for everything.
Tony.
Yes, darling?
Would you mind driving me straight on home?
What about dinner?
Oh, I don't feel much like eating now.
I just want to go home.
All right, all right.
Tony.
Tony, why did you put Barton on the picture in the first place?
He was on the skits.
There wasn't a casting director in town who'd hire him.
You and your big heart.
Don't you know that the surest way to make a man hate you is to do him a kindness?
Maybe.
But he promised he'd go on the wagon.
So the first day he showed up pink-eyed as a rabbit and chewing cloves to camouflage the smell of whiskey.
He's always chewed cloves as long as I've known him.
Sure he has.
The trademark of an alcoholic.
Tony, you know, he scares me.
No, don't be silly, darling.
Bart may be a lush, but he's not a murderer.
In just a moment, we will return for the second act of...
Suspense.
The people come in to me and they say, Otto, you were once a great chef.
Because I am now selling meat in my butcher shop, one sometimes forgets I know lots about cooking meat, too.
Though I'll let you in on a little cooking secret of mine.
French's Worcestershire sauce.
Aha.
Only French's Worcestershire has in it a collection of spices we Germans know accentuates the good flavor of meat.
French's also has soy, anchovies, tamarinds.
I could go on and on.
But these ingredients do to everyday food.
Mouth-watering.
May I suggest you try this with pot roast?
Add one tablespoon French's Worcestershire to each cup of gravy.
Would you believe the difference?
With French's you really spark up your meals.
And people will say, my goodness, but you're a wonderful cook.
Just as they used to say to me.
Of course Bart Malloy didn't take Tony's advice and go home.
The evening was still young and in his misery he needed company.
So he headed for Henry's on Hollywood Boulevard.
Everybody went to Henry's in those days.
It was packed every night with actors, directors, writers, producers, come to see and be seen.
And the partake of Henry's wonderful turkey sandwiches.
His fabulous German pancakes.
And his fragrant cottage.
Malloy is downing cup after cup of it now.
Each one generously laced with whiskey from his hip flask.
Also he's airing his grievances to Fritz, the friendly waiter who knows him well.
So I take a drink, one measly drink.
And he tosses me off the picture.
He's a louse, that's where he is.
Star spangled louse.
And I, Mr. Malloy, does it need so.
Mr. Kendall's a fine gentleman, a real fine gentleman.
I'll tell you something, Fritz.
I'm going to fix your fine gentleman's wagon for him if it's the last thing I ever do.
Oh, you shouldn't say such things, Mr. Malloy.
I've never had a time as this.
Just as soon as he's finished his picture, he won't, Miss Shalfante, will be...
Yeah, I know.
Maybe I ought to figure out a nice present for him, huh?
Ah, that sounds better, Mr. Malloy.
You know something?
I always thought Miss Shalfante would marry that Russian director.
What is his name?
Korsakov.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Sergey Korsakov.
Sure were crazy about each other until Tony came along.
Fritz, you may not know it, but you just gave me a terrific idea.
Mark Malloy lost no time in putting his terrific idea into action.
First, he telephoned the director, Sergey Korsakov, and made a date to drop by his apartment later that evening.
Then he called Rainer Shalfante and employed his not inconsiderable talent as a mimic.
Hello.
Hello, this is Hollywood 2749.
Yes, it is.
May I speak, please, with Miss Shalfante?
I'm Dr. von Kesselring, Dr. Friedrich von Kesselring.
This is Miss Shalfante, Doctor.
I am Mr. Korsakov's physician, Miss Shalfante.
Why have I regret to say some unhappy news for you?
Well, is something the matter with Sergey?
He has suffered a coronary occlusion.
Oh, no.
Malloy counted on the rainy streets and the fact that Rainer had to come all the way in from Beverly Hills to give him the time he needed with Korsakov.
Five minutes later, he pulled up in front of the Russian director's house high on the Hollywood Hills.
Well, not exactly in front of the house, for it perched 60 feet above the streets and was reached by a private elevator which opened on the sidewalk.
Very futuristic, a Hollywood show place at the time, this hideaway of the mad Russian.
Malloy pushed the bell.
The elevator door clicked open.
And a moment later, he stepped out of the cage into Sergey Korsakov's living room.
Hello, Sergey.
How are you, my friend? It's good to see you.
Good to see you.
It's just a lousy night.
For me, it's perfect. I sit before the fire and I try to solve chess problems.
You will have some tea. Over there is some of our tea.
Also brandy, whiskey, vodka. Choose it for yourself.
Well, maybe just a little one. You know, to cut the fog.
Good. Now sit down and tell me why you called me.
Well, Sergey, I need some advice.
Why, we'd be glad to.
It's like this. I'm going to come out of this picture I'm on with quite a bit of dough.
You told me you'd been buying real estate, remember?
No, but I have quite a bit of property in St. Emonica.
St. Emonica? That's too far out. Like the San Fernando Valley.
Can't tell me that people are ever going to call all the way out there.
Hey, I thought you said you were going to be alone tonight.
I expect no one.
Maybe your luck is changing, huh, boy?
Well, don't get up. I'll send the elevator back down.
And I'll just slip out the service entrance.
But I assure you, Var...
Yeah, I know, I know. Probably your maiden aunt just in from Vladivostok.
Just the same, I'll go out the back way so as not to embarrass the lady.
You have a dirty mind, my friend. I would suggest that you...
But what does it mean, be gone?
I guess you might say it means goodbye, Sergey.
Malloy moved fast now.
He wiped his fingerprints from the smoking gun and from the whiskey glass.
Then he dropped the gun to the floor and headed for the service entrance.
He was gone when the elevator stopped and Rena walked into the living room
to discover Sergey's bullet-riddled body sprawled on the floor.
When the police arrived,
summoned by a neighbor who heard the shooting,
they found her there, run in hand, kneeling over the body,
sobbing over and over.
Oh, Dennis!
In a moment, we'll return for the third act of suspense.
This is Dennis James with a longtime favorite.
Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm.
Yes, the longtime favorites are usually the best, aren't they?
And one favorite folks have relied on over the years is Kellogg's All Brands
since 1919, America's favorite natural laxative cereal.
Kellogg's All Brands is the safe, gentle way to overcome irregularity
caused by lack of bulk in your diet.
It tastes good, too, and it never gets mushy in milk.
There's only one All Brand, Kellogg's All Brand.
So relieve constipation the way millions do with Kellogg's All Brand.
A, double L, hyphen, B, R, A, N.
Yes, you're so right to stay regular with Kellogg's All Brand.
Try it, okay? Okay.
They allowed Rene Shalfante one phone call.
Naturally, she called Tony Kendall.
But there wasn't much he or his attorney could do for her
since there's no bail on a murder charge.
So Tony went to the scene of the crime, and there he found
that an old friend of his was in charge of the investigation,
Sergeant Kay of Homicide.
I'm sorry, Tony, but it just don't look good for your girlfriend.
But Rena is no killer.
It's not for me to say.
I can only go by the evidence I find, and, well, it all points to her.
But where's the motive? Rena had no motive.
She might have. What do you mean?
Well, this is just a theory, of course.
All right, all right. Let's have it.
You may not like it, Tony. I told you. Go ahead.
Well, she and Korsakoff were, uh...
Well, they were pretty good friends before you came along, right?
Yeah. So maybe he's still in love with her.
Maybe he doesn't want her to marry you.
Maybe he threatens to do something to stop the wedding.
I see. And maybe she shoots him.
Right. Wrong.
Marty, Rena is not a killer.
Maybe, but it looks like she did it.
You've been all over the place, I suppose.
Stem to stern.
And everything's strictly copacetic,
except for a whiskey glass with no fingerprints on it.
A what? This one right here, see?
Somebody had a shot of bourbon out of it,
and then wiped off the prints.
Wait a minute. Sergei didn't drink.
He didn't?
Well, then maybe your girlfriend...
Here we go with that maybe routine again.
Now, Marty, for your information, Rena isn't a drinker either.
That samovar over there is more in her line.
Oh, so that's what you call that thing. What's it for?
For making tea. Russian style.
Yeah, what's, uh...
What's all this stuff in these little sauces?
Oh, lemon peel, cinnamon, rose petals, cloves.
They put it in the tea.
All at once?
No. One at a time.
Oh. Well, I think Korsakov must have been a clove boy.
We found a lot of them on the floor.
Clothes, hmm?
And a whiskey glass.
Yeah.
You got a theory?
Maybe I have.
What is it?
I'll let you know when I've proved it.
In just a moment, we will return for the concluding act of...
Suspense.
You know, there are millions of motorists in this country.
Most of them are careful, law-abiding drivers,
who are smart enough to know that it pays to be careful,
but it takes only one careless act to cause a serious accident.
And that's the reason why we're here.
It pays to be careful, but it takes only one careless act to cause a serious accident.
So don't break the law of the road or the law of averages.
Drive carefully all the time.
First of all, don't speed.
More highway deaths are caused by excess speed than by anything else.
Second, drive with your head as well as with your hands and feet.
Use sound judgment in your driving and develop good driving habits.
And finally, be courteous.
Don't be afraid to give the other fellow a break.
You'll both live longer.
And here are a few pointers for safer driving.
Pass the car ahead only when you're absolutely sure it's safe.
Don't take chances.
Always allow plenty of space between your car and the car ahead.
At least one car length for every 10 miles per hour you're traveling.
And at night, dim your bright lights when approaching another car.
Now by following these safety rules, you can help cut down on accidents.
Music
Tony Kendall was in makeup and on the set at 8 o'clock the next morning.
When the cameras were in place and the lights were all set up for the climax scene of passion lost, the big fight scene.
Alec Benson, the director, greeted Tony with the long face usually reserved for funerals.
Tony, I just heard about Rena.
What a turn.
All right, all right. Save your sympathy. She's innocent.
Of course. But what's it going to do to our shooting skater?
You're just chock full of compassion, aren't you?
Well, I mean...
How's the great man's morning?
Good morning, Bart.
Who's going to lower the boom? You or Alec?
Well, Bart...
I told you last night we'd forget all about it, Bart.
I thought you meant...
You're still on the picture, Bart.
But Tony, I've already had...
You heard me, Alec.
Tony, I don't know what to say.
Let's save it.
Let's get on with the fight scene.
Okay.
Now this has got to top any fight scene that's ever been photographed.
Sam! I can't hear myself think!
All right, you guys, hold them hammers!
Now, we've got to make this brawl in the spoilers look like a chorus boy's picnic.
Now, I want...
Look where you're going, knucklehead! Don't trip over those cables!
Will you please knock it off, Sam?
You make more noise than the hammers!
Sorry, Mr. Benson.
Now, let's get the suspense of the fight in The Tolerable David,
the brutality of Noah Beary and the Sea Wolf,
the cruelty of...
Look, Alec, why don't you let Bart and me sort of work it out by ourselves first, hmm?
Then we'll tell you how we see it, and if it's okay with you, we'll try it, too.
Well, all right. Just call me when you're ready.
Fine. Come on, Bart. Let's block out the action.
We begin here on the balcony when I find you coming out of Helena's room.
Yeah.
Now, you go for your gun, but before you can get it out from under your Tony.
Yes.
I, uh...
I want to thank you for keeping me on the picture.
It's all right, Bart.
Now, as I was saying, when you, uh...
I want you to know how sorry I am about Rena.
Are you really? Are you really sorry?
I sure am. Rena's one of the greatest heroes.
Then you'll be happy to know that she did not kill Kosikoff.
No? Then, uh...
Who did?
Why, you did, Malloy. You killed him.
What?
It must be out of your mind.
What would I want to commit him? You killed him.
And then you framed Rena.
You did it for revenge. To get back at me.
You're talking like a maniac.
What about the clothes that dropped out of your pocket onto the...
Kosikoff had clothes, too. They were by the samovar.
That does it.
You were there, Malloy, weren't you?
You killed him.
Try and prove it.
I won't have to prove it.
You're going to admit it.
I am, huh? That's right.
I am going to beat the truth out of you right now.
Keep away from me, Kendall. Keep away or I'm going to...
I'm pretty facing you.
Hey, Mr. Benson, look, I'm your old son.
Oh, for that love of... Wait a minute, Tony.
Hold it, boys, until we can see.
Oh, Mr. Benson. Oh, wow!
What a wonderful...
Well, what are you standing there for? Let's get it on film.
Lights! Larry! Paul!
Stop cranking those cameras!
All right, you guys, you heard Mr. Benson.
Lights! Cameras!
Is that... That's fine, Paul.
Slam it against that toy.
Good.
Now bring one up, Tony. Bring it up from your heels.
That's the idea. A real beamator.
You did it to me, Malloy. You killed it!
Get your hands off my throat! I can't breathe!
Now, tell me the truth, Malloy.
Give it to me straight or I will kill you right here and now.
Go a little easy on that strangle, Tony.
These sensors in Iowa may squawk about it.
Come on, Malloy, this is your last chance.
Yes, I did it. All right, cut!
Save those lights!
Now, look, I realize I'm only the director around here.
But even so, would you mind letting me in on...
Tell him, Malloy! Tell him or I'll...
I killed Kosikoff.
All right. Call Marty Kay, will you?
Tell him we've got his killer for him.
You better have a couple of the boys keep an eye on Malloy until he gets here.
What are you going to do?
Me? I'm going over to get my girl out of the jailhouse.
And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, a story out of the Hollywood of the 20s, the city that was.
As you know, Rena and Tony Kendall are still one of the film capital's happiest couples.
As a matter of fact, I had tea with them last week.
Rena served from a great brass samovar, and I had my choice of sugar and cream and rum, of course.
And then there were little china bowls filled with slivers of lemon peel and dried rose petals and sticks of cinnamon.
But do you know something strange?
They weren't in their clothes.
Suspense.
You have been listening to The City That Was, written for suspense by Richard Weil.
In a moment, the names of our players and a word about next week's story of suspense.
Americans want peace and world friendship.
And one of the most effective ways to achieve this ideal is to form personal international friendships.
To people all over the world, the United States is a land of wonder.
They want to know more about us, how we live, what our homes and schools are like, what we do in our leisure time.
Well, these people are anxious to correspond with you to become international pen friends.
You can enrich your life and make a new friend for yourself and your country by striking up a correspondence with someone overseas.
So if you're between 16 and 60, drop a note giving your name, address, age, and a few facts about yourself to Letters Abroad, 45 East 65th Street, New York 21, New York.
And close the self-address stamped envelope.
And that address again is Letters Abroad, 45 East 65th Street, New York 21, New York.
Music
Heard in tonight's story were House Jamison as the narrator, Michael Caine as Bart Malloy, Martha Greenhouse as Rena, Bernard Grant as Kendall,
and also included in the cast were Danny Occo, Sam Raskin, and George Petrie.
Music
Listen again next week when we return with The Green Lorelei by George Bamber, another tale well calculated to keep you in...
suspense.
WROW Albany, New York.