And now, a tale well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense.
Can the devil really take possession of the mind of man?
Listen to So To Satan, starring Kermit Murdock,
and adapted especially for suspense by Joseph Cochran
from a short story by Jules Archer.
Just for the record, I'm not Frank Wineglass,
president of the Figurette Faire,
and yet I'm a significant part of him.
I'm sure Frank's dimly conscious of me,
but he wrote in his diary,
I believe every man must carry a personal Satan
caged deep within himself,
a subtle compelling force that suggests mad ideas,
wrong ideas, irresistible ideas.
That's Frank's estimate of me.
On my own behalf, I'd say I'm keener than Frank
in understanding what is inevitable
and telling him so at once.
And I do have my mischievous comic side,
as Frank discovered that evening at the exclusive Hampton Club,
where the members for the most part believe that silence is golden.
Shhh! Don't found it, man.
Must you make so much noise with that ice?
Oh, sorry, Colonel Dover.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Frank wasn't a bit sorry, and I got the message.
I waited and let Frank remind himself that
Colonel Dover had the annoying habit of glaring over the top
his newspaper at anyone who made the slightest sound.
At the right moment, I made my move.
Frank, can you imagine what would happen to this sacred silence
if we gave the Colonel the hot foot?
After the third scotch, Frank agreed it was an hilarious idea.
He got up, walked over to the Colonel,
and stopped, pretending to tie his shoe.
He lit the match and got back to his chair.
We waited.
Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!
Fire! Great Scott! My foot is on fire!
Shhh! Blasted it!
If I knew what Bounder did that, I'd have him expelled!
He would have been sured! Sured!
Ha ha ha!
As I said, I grasped the inevitable,
and what I suggested a few days later met with flat refusal,
even to listen.
But I knew it, camera.
Then, too, I had the lever to pry Frank away
from his deepest fears and inhibitions
and commit even murder.
The lever was Diane Rodel, model for Figurette.
She came into the office of Harry Feeney as Frank's partner
one morning after they'd had a night out in town.
Hello, honey boy.
Oh, hello, Diane.
Feeling low, honey boy?
Don't call me that.
Why, honey boy, last night you said...
I mean around the office. Frank might hear you.
Even if I nestle up close and whisper it like this.
Honey boy.
No, no, no. No matter what happened last night,
these are business hours.
That's why I'm here.
Some other time, huh? I can't think. My head is...
But my bill collector, he's such a nasty man.
And when I say some other time,
he says, no, sister, right now or else.
Harry, you don't want him to talk to me like that, do you?
Oh. Well, here's $200.
And for the love of my don'ts...
Ah, thank you, honey boy.
And from now on, this will be my week's salary.
What do you mean? Your salary's 100 bucks a week.
Oh, it was. Now it's 200.
And I want a 10-year contract.
What?
Now, see here, Diane, you can't put the bite on me.
No. No, absolutely no.
Don't get impulsive, honey boy,
or I'll show these photographs to Mrs. Feeney.
Oh, Diane, this is blackmail.
Oh, no, honey boy.
You know I'm the best model figure I've ever had.
I'm worth $200.
Yeah, sure, sure. I know you're a good model, the best.
But there's Frank. He's my partner.
You also have a partnership with Mrs. Feeney.
Now, what's she going to say about these photographs?
Oh.
All right.
Give me the photos.
Say nothing about this, and I'll adjust your salary.
We'll call it a cost of living increase.
And because you're so valuable to the firm, that is,
you'll be sewed up with a long-term contract.
How's that?
Why, honey boy, that's what I came to ask.
I'm so glad you thought of it first.
Harry, are you bats?
$200 a week.
And a 10-year contract.
Why?
Has she got something on you?
Take a look at these photos.
She hinted that Agnes might like to see them.
No doubt she would.
Well, it's your funeral.
And then it's all right?
We give her the $200?
You pay the extra $100.
The firm isn't paying for your nightclubbing with Diane,
with pictures.
Don't get mad now.
Did you get the negatives?
Well, no.
You see, Diane's got them in a vault.
She says they're her contract insurance.
Harry, you're a fool.
We didn't need your wife's money to expand the firm.
I'd call the police, have her arrested for extortion.
The next time I whispered to Frank,
that sharp look didn't come over his face.
And he listened.
For this time, I was able to add, for Doug's sake,
to the word murder.
Douglas Wineglass was Frank's adopted son.
The attachment was even stronger than I realized.
Doug handled the firm's advertising.
He was a shy boy, 24, who walked with a limp
caused by a knee infection when he was a child.
This morning, he limped into Frank's office,
and he was bustling with suppressed excitement.
Dad, Dad, I've got to talk to you.
Oh, come in, Doug, come in.
I thought you had something on your mind.
Dad, you're going to become a father-in-law.
Son.
Oh, that's fine. Really, it is.
Why, being a father-in-law is pretty close
to being a grandfather.
Now, who's going to make an honest man of you?
She's the girl who makes millions of women
buy figure-ed undergarments.
You mean Diane Rodel?
Dad, I didn't expect that tone from you,
just because she's a model.
Doug, isn't it possible you've let yourself be carried away?
I know how it is, a beautiful girl like Diane.
Now, don't say anything against her, Dad.
She's the sweetest, most sincere
and modest girl I've ever known.
I love her, and we're going to be married.
Doug, think this over.
For a lot of reason.
Give me one, just one.
All right.
Ask yourself why Diane, with her looks and her glamour,
wants to marry a kid like you's, lame and one-legged.
I've heard enough, Dad.
Nothing you can say will interest me.
Not after that.
Oh, Doug, Doug, come back.
I didn't mean it.
Fine mess you've got me into.
What's the trouble, Frank?
Doug just told me he's going to marry Diane.
Yes, I know.
Sweetest, most decent girl he ever knew.
Frank, you didn't tell him about, about...
No, because it wouldn't do any good.
The only way I can convince him is with those photos.
Let me have them.
I burned them.
Well, then you've got to tell Doug.
I can't. Diane's a way ahead of you.
What do you mean?
She phoned and said if I ever told Doug anything
to hurt her chances, she'd send the photos to my wife
in the next mail.
Frank, Agnes had thrown me out.
And if she did, I wouldn't have a dime.
What a partner you turned out to be.
Frank fought off my suggestion to murder Diane.
He told himself he could buy her off.
He called Diane and arranged to see her that night.
Why, I didn't argue.
I knew he had to try everything before the inevitable solution.
So nice of you to call, Mr. Wineglass.
Do sit down.
You know why I'm here, so let's skip the preliminaries.
Get down to the price.
What's your half a figurette worth?
$60,000.
Let's not play foxy with each other.
My source of information tells me it's worth $150,000.
The same for Harry Feeney.
Except his wife owns his shares.
Knowing you can't shake her down,
you think you'll get it through Doug.
Oh, l'amour, l'amour.
I just can't resist, Doug.
And vice versa.
A grand passion like ours is worth $150,000.
Well, good night, Daddy.
My boy thinks you're the most decent girl in the world.
How perfectly darling of him.
You wouldn't ever tell him anything different.
Now would you, Mr. Wineglass?
All right, Frank, you've tried everything.
But there's no other way.
With careful planning, I think we can open Doug's eyes
and work it so Harry Feeney would take the rap.
He's around your neck, you despise him.
You could kill two birds with one stone.
What do you say, Frank?
I kept him tossing all night with the details.
The first step, of course, was to undo the harm with Doug.
Well, that was taken care of first thing in the morning.
You wanted to see me?
If it's about Diane, you may as well save your breath.
Doug, I'd appreciate it a lot if you'd forget what I said yesterday.
I behave like an old fool.
I guess I was touchy about being left in the dark until it happened.
Oh, sure, Dad, I... I understand.
I'd have told you sooner, only I wasn't sure she'd have me.
To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure about my game-like either.
Well, I'm glad she didn't let that stand in the way.
She's a wonderful girl.
Now, do you think Diane could bear up if I sent you on a business trip?
Where do I go and when will I be back?
Oh, you'd leave in the morning for the National Convention of Garment Workers in San Francisco.
You'd be gone about ten days.
We'll say, why don't you plan to take the 20th century tomorrow and show Diane the town tonight?
Step number one was easy.
Doug softened up and out of town for ten days.
Diane out of her apartment for tonight.
Step number two consists of you and Alibi, Frank.
We'd better put it through a test run.
And at the same time, set up the motive for the forthcoming trial of the people versus Harry Feeney, your partner.
Everything hinged on the timing.
So promptly, at nine-o-two, we were at the Hampton Club.
Colonel Dover's face was buried in the newspaper, as usual.
At nine-fifteen, he had turned page one.
Now, Frank, let him have it.
What a blast!
Oh, sorry, Colonel. Very sorry.
Well, that's all right.
Perfect, Frank. Oh, perfect.
Nine-twenty. At my whisper, he rose.
Stepped out the French window and went to the garden.
It took three minutes to reach the Madison Arms, Diane's apartment house up the street from the club.
Entering by way of the cellar, he climbed the ten flights of stairs without meeting anyone and emerged at the car in a window.
He had a bit of luck when he got out on fire escape and found the window to Diane's room open an inch.
Nine-thirty, he was picking out a note on Diane's typewriter.
He finished the note and at exactly nine-forty, he left the apartment.
He hurried down the stairs, walked to the club and entered by the same window.
He sank into his chair. Colonel Dover had turned another page of the newspaper.
Frank wanted to do it right away, but I made him wait a couple of minutes.
Now.
Oh, compound it, sir. Must you clear that infernal throat every two minutes?
Oh, sorry. Terribly sorry, Colonel.
The run-through was perfect. Frank was elated.
I told him the plan was foolproof.
Frank, the only thing that can trip you up is nerves.
So now relax, get some sleep.
I reminded him to mail the letter he had typed on Diane's stationery.
The reaction to that didn't take long.
Oh, Frank, listen, what am I going to do?
Look at this letter I got this morning. What am I going to do?
How do I know? You tell me what it's all about.
Here, read it.
Harry, honey boy. Honey boy, good gracious.
I'm afraid the time has come. I need a little extra money.
Let's make it $25,000.
You can bring it to my apartment tonight at 945 Sharp.
Don't telephone any excuses or I'll stroll down to the mailbox.
$25,000? She writes as if it were petty cash.
P.S. Bring it all in cash, please.
I can't raise $2,500, let alone what she's asking.
Frank, you couldn't see your way clear to let me have it, huh?
You'll get it back every cent.
Sure, when Agnes dies.
I'll get her to sign over some of the stock to you.
I'll convince her somehow.
All right, all right. Stop sniveling.
I'll give you the money. On one condition.
Anything you say, Frank.
Just this. When you see Diane tonight, get those negatives.
Slap her around if you have to, but get them. Understand?
Oh, sure, sure, sure. I'll get them even if I have to knock her out.
Frank, old boy, you're a real friend. I'll never forget this. Never.
Book, line and sinker.
Hello?
Hello, Diane. Frank Weinglas.
Why do you have to get a girl out of bed so early in the morning?
I'm calling for Harry. He's come to see you tonight.
About those negatives.
You can tell him.
Now, wait, Diane. He's prepared to pay for them.
I'll get them.
I'll get them.
I'll get them.
I'll get them.
Now, wait, Diane. He's prepared to pay for them.
You can write your own ticket.
Well, that sounds interesting.
Where's he getting the money?
Well, I'm letting him have some. And he made a killing at the track.
What time is he coming?
Between nine and ten.
Will you tell, honey boy, I'll be waiting anxiously.
Frank was on edge, so I made him wait in the club a full five minutes more.
He felt his pocket for the murder weapon.
One of Harry's scarves taken from the office hall tree.
According to schedule, it would be wrapped around Diane's beautiful neck at nine thirty-seven.
Frank slipped out by way of the French window and made his way to Diane's apartment.
No need to climb the steps this time. She would have been very happy.
She was anxiously waiting for her honey boy.
Come right on.
Oh, it's you.
I thought Harry was coming.
Well, you know how Agnes is. He couldn't get away.
So he sent me with the money.
How much? If you told me, I could name the price.
Have you got it with you?
If you have the negatives.
I've got them.
You see them when I get them.
How much?
One hundred and fifty grand.
That's what I figured it would be.
It'll break Harry, but that's his funeral.
Sure you want to count it.
But you'll find it's all there.
One hundred... two... two...
Why, you big bum, there's nothing but blank paper here.
Come on, there's nothing but blank paper here.
Frank found the negatives right next to her heart.
He burnt half of them, leaving enough to show who it was.
Picked up the fake money, made his way back to the club,
just as the Colonel was turning the second page of the newspaper.
He slipped into his chair and calmly waited for my signal.
Now, by the eternal, sir, this is too much.
You, you, sir, if I hear one peep out of you again,
I will...
Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I beg your pardon.
One peep, sir, and I will complain to the steward, sir,
and demand your expulsion.
I'm dreadfully sorry, Colonel.
I promise you it won't happen again, sir.
Yes, well, see that it doesn't, sir.
Oh, by the way, Colonel...
Oh, what now?
May I ask a favor? My watch reads 920.
It stopped when I entered the club. It was 915.
Well, it is exactly 952.
Now, sir, may I go back to my paper?
Thank you. 952.
Only three minutes off schedule,
we'll add a five-minute margin for error. Not bad.
Diane dead, Doug in San Francisco,
and to make it perfect,
Harry has promptly let himself in by the door that you left unlocked.
He'll reel back, leave his fingerprints all over the place,
rush out without noticing the burnt negatives of the scarf,
and he'll be frantic until he finds you.
Mr. Wineglass, telephone call for you. I'll plug it in.
Oh, well, thank you.
Hello?
Frank, Frank, I've been trying to get you all evening.
I'm in an awful mess. You've got to help me.
Oh, what's the matter?
Didn't the meeting with Diane work out?
Didn't you get the negatives?
Well, that's just it.
I haven't been able to get away from Agnes.
Why?
When I was finally able to sneak out to call Diane
and tell her I was stuck, she didn't answer.
Frank, get to her, find her, and explain.
Tell her I'll get there, but it'll be after midnight.
I saw Frank go wide.
If Harry was home until after midnight,
they couldn't pin the murder on him.
I called on Frank to be calm, reminded him that
if they couldn't pin it on Harry, they couldn't pin it on him either.
Besides, the main purpose had been accomplished.
Diane wouldn't marry Doug.
I told him to go home, get some sleep.
Early in the morning, he was awakened by the doorbell ringing.
And when he opened the door, he saw an officer.
Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Wineglass,
but they want to see you at the station.
What's the trouble?
Diane Rodel, a model in your employ, has been murdered.
Diane?
I see. They want me to give any information I can.
Do they suspect anyone?
Hate to be the one to tell you, but they're holding Douglas Wineglass.
Oh, that's impossible. He's in San Francisco.
He was to take a train, but stayed in the city
until the last minute and decided to take a plane.
He phoned the police from her apartment.
We found him holding some burnt negatives.
He didn't deny the murder.
He just kept saying he didn't want to live any longer.
Get me down to the station as fast as you can.
I'll clear this up in no time.
All right, the car is waiting.
I whispered, Frank, don't be a fool.
The boy doesn't mean that much to you.
He didn't even hear me.
Maybe I didn't know the real Frank Wineglass after all.
Maybe Frank was willing to pay with his life
just to prove me wrong for once.
So long, Frank.
I won't be taking this trip with you.
You'll double-cross me at the last.
Suspense.
You have been listening to Soul to Satan, starring Kermit Murdock,
and adapted especially for Suspense by Joseph Cochran
from a short story by Jules Archer.
Suspense is produced and directed by Bruno Zarratto Jr.,
musical supervision by Ethel Huber.
Heard in tonight's story were Elizabeth Lawrence as Diane Rodel,
Robert Dryden as Harry Feeney,
Ian Martin as Colonel Dover,
Richard Holland as Douglas Wineglass,
and Dick Hamilton as the police officer.
Listen again next week when we return with
The Juvenile Rebellion, written by Robert Sanadela.
Another tale well calculated to keep you in.
Suspense.
CBS Newsmen everywhere report in depth and detail
on this station of the CBS Radio Network.