And now, a tale well calculated to keep you in...
...suspense.
A construction gang boss is suspected of murder.
He suspects his own sanity.
Listen now to Man Trap, starring Don McLaughlin,
and written especially for suspense by John Robert.
We were in the Southwest, a construction gang building a highway,
dynamiting through mountains of rock that rose 2,000 feet.
I was gang boss. My name is Brick Delaney.
Next in command was Artie Finch.
We'd been on a lot of jobs together, Artie and I.
We could have been friends, but Artie had his wife Lola on his mind,
and jealousy written all over his face.
Even while talking construction.
I'm packing dynamite in these groves here on the map.
Okay?
The location's okay, Artie, fine, but why are you packing it?
Why not Pedro packing dynamite's his job?
Because I want it like that, Delaney.
I want to go back to sleeping nights.
Now, what's the gripe?
The same old one, you and Lola.
There's nothing between me and your wife, Artie.
You and your wife?
There's nothing between me and your wife, Artie.
You can't take your eyes off her.
Neither can 50 other guys, Artie.
Lola's a good-looking gal. Guy can't help being guys,
but it's hands-off. She's your wife, and I...
I respect that. Believe me, Artie.
After I pack those rocks personally, I might believe you.
What's packing those rocks got to do with it?
I'm up there on the side of the mountain with a keg of dynamite under me.
If you want Lola bad enough,
all you got to do is set off the charge before I signal all clear.
What?
Yeah. Blow me to bits by accident.
On purpose.
Artie, you're stark, raving nuts.
Sure, I don't deny it.
I'm going bats wondering how much you go for Lola
and how much Lola goes for you.
Come on, Artie.
And how often do you meet?
When I'm not looking and where?
Artie.
And what are you two connivers up against me?
Sure, I'm nuts.
That's why I'm packing that dynamite instead of Pedro.
Just what's that going to prove?
If I live, I'll know there's a limit to how far you'll go against me.
If I live, I'll think maybe I'm way wrong about you.
If I live, maybe we can be friends like before.
Artie, you're nuts.
You afraid, Delaney?
Afraid you might see to it that I do blow up?
Okay. Prove what you have to your own way.
You know Pedro's routine?
That are perfect.
When I pack the rocks and I'm in the clear out of the blast area,
I blow this whistle.
Twice. You blow it twice. And loud.
All right.
And you count off 30 seconds before you release the blast.
Do I know the routine?
Go pack the rocks.
It was crazy like a schoolboy dare,
but Artie was a schoolboy when it came to Lola.
I waited for the whistles to signal all clear.
I counted off 30 seconds and then released the blast.
With that explosion, my nightmare began.
Right there in that construction shack.
Senor Delaney!
What is it, Pedro?
You blow up the mountain without waiting for the whistles!
You blow up the Senor Artie!
Pedro, what kind of a crazy joke is this?
No joke, Senor! I swear, no joke!
Without waiting for the whistles, you said,
but there were two whistles clear and distinct.
No, Senor, there were no whistles!
I, Pedro, am not deaf to the whistles.
And I, Delaney, am not deaf to the whistles either.
You dirty little lying idiot trying to pull off here.
Please, Senor, I tell the truth!
You blow up the Senor Artie, Senor!
But if you want Pedro to lie, then Pedro lie.
Then I hear the whistles. See?
Oh, mother of me, yes, yes, I hear the whistles.
I swear to that!
Sure of something and then you're not sure.
Could I have imagined those whistles?
We searched the side of the mountain in the area of the blast,
searching for whatever was left of Artie.
Searching with me was Kelleher, the town sheriff.
Everything was according to the book, you say.
Finch packed those rocks, then signaled all clear.
Yes, I set off the charge after hearing Artie signal.
Two whistles, huh?
Two whistles and 30 more seconds as an additional safety precaution.
Uh, how is it Artie Finch packed those rocks?
Wasn't that something new for him?
Well, Artie asked if he could do it.
How come?
No reason. Novelty, I guess.
How come you allowed it?
Artie knew the routine.
That isn't my question, Delaney.
Well, I haven't any answer.
I see.
Couldn't it be maybe that you ordered Artie to pack those rocks?
Why would I do that?
I don't know.
Gang bosses get funny ideas sometimes.
I'm afraid we're wasting our time looking for Artie's remains.
That blast hit him like a fragmentation bomb.
Well, look, maybe it didn't hit Artie. Maybe Artie isn't dead.
Then where is he?
Well, I don't know. Maybe he's days wandering around somewhere in the mountain.
He got out of the blast area, but not far enough.
I don't think so, Delaney.
We haven't found a corpse, but I've been picking up a few things here and there while I've been searching.
Picking up what?
This, for instance.
A piece of cloth?
A collar off a windbreaker.
And this?
A watch.
The shell of a watch.
There's an inscription in the case, if you notice.
To Artie with love. Lola.
And something else, Delaney.
A more, uh, gruesome exhibit.
I've got my back to it.
Have a look.
Oh.
Oh, I'm sick.
I said the blast hit him like a fragmentation bomb.
In his town office, the sheriff had Lola Finch identify some articles.
What about this watch, Mrs. Finch?
It's a watch I gave Artie.
On his last birthday.
Was Artie in the habit of wearing it?
All the time.
Go ahead, cry if you want to.
I've already done my crime.
Lola, I...
I'm terribly sorry for what happened, but...
But it wasn't anybody's fault. Is that what you wanted to say, Delaney?
It was one of those weird accidents.
Not one in a thousand.
One in a thousand, huh?
I'd mark that on Artie's headstone.
Tell her if you're trying to make a reputation as a cynic, you're doing it big.
Artie doesn't mind me being cynical.
The dead aren't very sensitive.
What is it with you, Keller?
Missouri.
I was born in Missouri.
A lot of funny ideas kick around in my head.
Like?
Like this one. Lola?
How was the marriage while it lasted?
Fine.
Happy, both of you?
Of course.
I never saw a happy man get drunk as often as Artie did.
And was anxious sometimes, like everybody gets.
What are you hinting at?
Did Artie blow those whistles, but sit right down on the dynamite?
What?
Could he have committed suicide?
No. Not Artie. Never.
You're so sure, huh?
Artie liked living. He was cheerful about things. He made plans.
Don't get steam-heated. It was only an idea.
Uh...
I've got something to attend to for a minute.
I'll only be a minute.
I was alone with Lola when she threw her bombshell.
Why did you do it, Delaney?
Who? What, Lola?
Murder Artie.
Lola, you're crazy.
You think I deliberately dynamited Artie?
I don't think it. I know it.
Why would I?
Take another look.
Look at what?
At me.
I'm the girl you used to write gooey letters to.
Even I blushed reading them.
That was before you married Artie, Lola.
And when I danced at the amour la, you sat up front every night till closing time, all pop-eyed.
That also was before you married Artie.
You proposed marriage how many hundred times?
But you married Artie.
I married Artie because I was afraid of you.
What... what does that mean?
I was afraid to stay single with a maniac like you around.
Sure, sure, before.
I admit I had ideas, but after you and Artie hooked up, I... I gave up.
Liar.
What are you accusing me of?
Of prowling after me on the streets night after night since I've been married to Artie.
What?
Of watching me whenever you could in the hairdressers in restaurants peeping at me.
Lola.
Or trying to pull me into a car right in front of the Eagle Hotel as recently as last night.
What are you talking...
Last night was my anniversary.
I'd been married a year to Artie.
Lola.
Now tell me you didn't murder Artie on the job, you crazy maniac.
Oh, none of what you said rings any bell at all about my spying the car.
I don't remember any of that.
You really are insane.
Oh, no, maybe... maybe just being clever.
Building a defense against a murder rap.
Well, look, about that attempt to kidnap me, there was an eyewitness to it.
Who's the witness?
Pop Wilkes.
He runs the shoeshine parlor on Main Street.
He saw the whole thing right through his store window.
Anytime you want to refresh your memory.
Well, I'm back.
Have a nice chat, you two?
Huh?
I asked, did you and Mrs. Finch have a nice chat?
Look, I... I don't get your drift, Kellar.
No, you don't.
But Lola does.
Don't you, Mrs. Finch?
I'd be stupid not to.
You arranged to leave us in here alone.
I knew you were a smart one.
See Delaney in this drawer?
See that gadget?
Yeah, I see it, yeah, so what?
It's called a tape machine.
It makes a record of conversations.
Why, you...
So long, Delaney, see you around.
I can go, you say?
Is there any reason why you should stay, Delaney?
No. No reason.
And so long.
I want to hear what the tape says.
Kellar had a record of Lola's accusations.
I went to talk to Pop Wilkes.
Could one guy split up into two people with one half of him blank
as to what the other half was doing or done?
I'd heard of cases like that.
Are you here for a shine, Mr. Delaney?
Yeah, Pop shine heavy on the polish.
You always do.
Set your foot right now.
How's that there road coming along, huh?
Okay.
About through with the blasting now, are you?
Yeah, Bob.
It's too bad about Artie Finch.
That was a bad break.
You didn't come in here only for a shine.
Why do you say that, Pop?
Your shoes are shined already better than I can shine them.
How much are you going to pay me to shut up?
Shut up about what?
Me seeing you trying to drag Artie's wife into your car last night.
One guy could be two people.
I was getting proof of it.
In the Atlantic House saloon, I began seeing faces in the bar mirror
and double focused.
Two faces.
Two versions of my own face.
Hello, Delaney.
Shall we continue our little chat?
You said all you can say.
Oh, not half yet.
I saw you get a shine at Pop Wilkes.
Who's watching who now?
Did you get your memory back with the shine?
Well, you're not talking.
But you are on the reels of tape.
Reels of tape you'll hang from.
Oh, you want that?
I'll dance at your funeral, the same dance you sat through for 40 nights at the Amarillo.
And that's for my murdering Artie?
For your murdering Artie.
A guy you didn't give a rap about.
He was my husband.
Only Wiley kept making big pay.
Only so long as you didn't have to dance your feet raw for 35...
Now, what's this kind of talk going to get you?
I don't know, Lola. I'm just trying to think.
Think? You mean figure out a new line of defense, don't you?
Just kind of find it funny, you talking like a prosecuting attorney.
You all hopped up and screaming for revenge because of Artie.
Artie, who was a paper husband.
Who you blew up.
Nobody's arrested me yet.
No. But don't get too happy over that.
It's officially an accident so far.
But wait till the evidence changes it to an accident on purpose.
Where's this evidence coming from?
Oh, from you, Delaney.
Me?
Well, you put the finger on yourself.
You'll brood over the murder and think of Artie blown into a thousand pieces.
Pretty soon he'll begin to haunt you.
He'll be with you everywhere, every minute, waking and sleeping.
You'll see him in your dreams.
You'll wake up mornings to Artie asking how many lumps of sugar, please.
Look, when it's like that, it's bad like that.
What does a guy do, Lola?
He confesses.
He runs to Kelleher and confesses to murder.
Lola had it right.
Artie began living with me.
On the job. Dynamiting through the mountain.
Pedro's packed the rocks, Delaney.
Artie!
Hear the whistles, Delaney?
Artie, I heard them when you whistled too.
Artie, I'll take a note.
Ready now?
Count off 30 seconds.
Now, release the charge.
Blow it up.
That was Artie screaming.
Artie being blown to bits all over again.
I got Artie again later.
Pulling into my garage.
Oh, Delaney.
Artie.
You got to remember to wait for the whistles, Delaney.
Artie, I waited. Artie, I swear I heard.
Two whistles, then you count off 30 seconds before releasing the charge.
Artie, no. Artie, you're driving me crazy.
Two whistles, Delaney.
You're dead, Artie! Get back in your grave!
How can I, Delaney?
There was hardly anything left of me to bury.
Buried?
And upstairs, where I lived.
I didn't even get time to get the key in the lock.
Somebody inside an empty apartment was letting me in.
Come in, Delaney.
Artie, please, please, no more tonight.
Artie, aren't you a little confused, Delaney?
Keller.
That's better.
Been seeing ghosts, have you?
Yeah. Artie, he's with me everywhere. There's no let up.
Keller.
Yes, Delaney?
I murdered Artie Finch.
Now lock me up and take me out and hang me.
Let's get this over with.
You're moving a lot faster than the lock can, Delaney.
I can't stand any more of this.
Then sit down and listen.
Listen? Listen to what?
Lola Finch accused you of murder.
I have it on tape, but I didn't arrest you.
No, you didn't and I couldn't figure out why you didn't.
Because there are angles to what happened out there to Artie Finch.
Angles that need thinking about.
What? What angles?
For one thing, insurance.
Artie's death is worth $30,000 to his widow, Lola Finch.
Why didn't Artie carry that much?
He doubled the amount one month before he died.
A lot of dough, $30,000 for a dame like Lola.
With that much, he set fire to the world.
But if she doesn't get the money.
Doesn't? How could that be?
If Artie committed suicide, say,
there's a clause that voids the policy in the event of suicide.
Not a cent for the widow.
Is that why you've been hounding the suicide angles since the start?
That's also why Lola made the fancy speech about how Artie loved life.
How Artie had big plans for the future.
You mean she was trying to beat down the suicide angle?
As hard as she could.
That's also why she's playing on your nerves.
Talking into the tape machine, making you see ghosts.
I don't get it.
In the event of murder, she still collects.
You hang, but Lola collects.
Now, Blainey, let me ask you something.
Artie had no business packing those rocks, did he?
No. He asked to do it. He insisted that he wanted to.
He gave you the two-whistle signal that it was all clear for you to go ahead and blast.
Yes, that's right.
That meant he was supposed to be out of the blast area.
Yes.
But he wasn't out of the blast area. He was right in it.
That means he deliberately stayed in it.
Artie meant to be blown up?
That's my theory.
Why?
To make Lola a rich widow.
That doesn't make sense.
Artie Finch didn't make sense.
He married a woman who ate him alive.
He gave her every penny he had.
When he went broke, he borrowed to give her more.
Yeah, Artie always was a sucker for punishment.
Sure. You see the angle now?
Not altogether. What's your angle in pushing this suicide idea as hard as you are?
20% of the money saved.
The company promised me 20% as a reward.
Oh, I see. Then it could have still been an accident or murder.
That's all I really got to you, huh?
Yeah.
That's all I really got to me.
In bed, fighting off sleep to keep Artie out of my dreams.
I thought some more about one guy being two people with one half of him blank to the other half.
I couldn't buy Kelleher's theory because of Pedro and Pop Wilkes.
Pedro hadn't heard the whistles.
Pop Wilkes had spelled out insanity for me.
My insanity.
Delaney.
Artie, please, please lay off.
Give up, Delaney. Confess you were to me.
I tried to. I tried to, Artie, but Kelleher wouldn't believe me.
Give up and confess, Delaney.
Artie, no more. No more tonight.
Give up and confess, Delaney, and you won't be saved.
No more tonight, I tell you. Stop that laughing.
Stop that laughing.
Delaney, don't shoot.
Don't shoot anymore.
Artie.
I shot a ghost.
But a ghost who bled all over the floor, blood coming from his chest, his neck, his shoulder.
Artie, dying on my floor.
Dying a second time.
Delaney, it was a trick Lola thought up.
A phony death.
I hid out in the mountains.
Thirty thousand dollars.
We were going to blow it in on a time for ourselves.
Even my jealousy was all an act.
Do you hear me, Delaney?
Yes, I hear you, Artie, but there was almost enough to reconstruct a corpse.
Who was it, Artie?
A tramp I'd hauled off a boxcar.
I got him bearded up and sat him on that keg.
You had to be cold-blooded for that.
You get cold-blooded from the ice in Lola.
What about Pedro?
Papa Wilkes?
A grand apiece was the bait.
Some guys sell their souls for a grand, Delaney.
Like some guys sell it for thirty grand, huh?
Yeah, like me.
I'm sorry, Delaney, for everything.
I'm remembering we were friends once.
So it all turns out that I murdered you anyhow.
Yeah.
The rap this time will be a medal.
They'll pin a medal on you.
Delaney.
What?
Stay away from Lola.
Don't step into my shoes.
It's a funny time to give me advice.
You're out of it now, Artie.
You're dying.
Goodbye, Delaney, again.
And this time I'm not kidding.
Suspense.
You have been listening to Man Trap, starring Don McLaughlin,
and written especially for Suspense by John Robert.
Suspense is produced and directed by Bruno Zerotto Jr.,
musical supervision by Ethel Huber.
Featured in tonight's story were Joseph Julian as Callagher,
Terry Keene as Lola, Ralph Bell as Artie Finch,
Lawson Zerby as Pop Wilkes, and Ralph Camargo as Pedro.
Listen again next week when we return with
The Luck of the Tiger Eye, written by Jack Butram.
Another tale well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense.
There's no doubt about it.
Other people's kids are never as funny as your own,
except the kids on Art Linkletter's house party.
They're always good for a laugh, so join them weekdays right here.
Stars shed their inhibitions on Arthur Godfrey time weekdays on the CBS Radio Network.