And now, a tale well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense.
In a moment, Act One of Hide and Seek, starring Jackson Beck and William Redfield, and written
especially for suspense by Bob Corcoran.
This first portion of Suspense is brought to you by the makers of Marlboro Cigarettes.
Why don't you settle back and have a full flavored smoke?
Have a Marlboro.
You'll get a lot to like with a Marlboro, the filter cigarette with the unfiltered taste.
Try Marlboro.
The lost soul cry of a lake steamer fell into the sleeping Chicago street like a wet feather,
sending out ripples of fear that washed against a dandy man who would soon die.
The nerve kept jumping under his eye.
His hands were sticky.
He stared out the window, forcing himself to go through the routine he'd created.
He'd stop at the all night cigar store no matter how late, and have his shoes shined so he
could go home with a clean pair.
It was one of the reasons they called him Dandy, but he wasn't enjoying it tonight, and never
would again.
He came off the shoeshine chair like a dancer, moved to the door of the store.
Nothing either way.
A half dollar glittered in the light and disappeared as the boy snapped it out of the air.
Thanks, kid.
Thank you, Mrs. Angeles.
The street stretched ahead, parked cars empty, some old newspaper blowing, big city tumbleweed.
Dandy caught his reflection in the store window and had to stop in spite of his nervousness
and desire to get away.
A practiced hand rolled the brim of his hat and the winds or knot of his tie got pushed
to perfection.
Yeah.
No wonder they called him Dandy.
Neat as a pen, even his fingernails.
Dandy thought of that afternoon, and his mouth twisted in self-disgust as he cut across the
street and hurried on, keeping near the curb and watching the shadows.
A jerk play, like a luck-happy punk instead of a professional gambler.
Just a few more blocks to go and nothing had happened.
He felt a little easier, but he had to get a thousand fast.
Bigelow didn't like guys who played and then didn't make good on the sour ones.
He had a long list of things he didn't like, and that was on top.
Dandy knew that when he made the bet that afternoon.
You got it though, ain't you Dandy?
Yeah, sure Ed.
I just ain't got it on me.
If you pick a cruller, I want that money.
Sure, Ed.
I want it fast.
Hey, what am I, the thief of Baghdad?
I always been good, ain't I?
Yeah, you always been good, Dandy.
It's just we're friends.
I don't want you to shoot Welch on me, that's all.
I ain't no Welcher.
I know a guy who was no killer, till he knocked off a guy.
I won't Welch, Ed.
That's good, because if you did, I'd lose a friend.
And all your friends would lose a friend.
Permanent.
Okay, don't worry.
It's a sure thing.
The horse finished fifth, nowhere.
But he'd get the money, sure.
Take maybe a week.
Guys forget your name fast when you're broke.
But nothing to worry about.
His hotel on again, fighted him just ahead.
Maybe he'd get out of town for a few days.
Not that there was anything to be afraid of, just, Edgy's bet.
Play it safe.
He breezed into the hotel lobby.
Thank God it was empty.
Then the ripples of fear came back when he saw the scared-faced kid at the desk.
What's the matter, Herbie?
There was a guy waiting for you.
He's in your room.
He belted me and took the key.
Told me not to tell the cops or you nothing.
But you've always been nice to me.
It's all right, Herbie, it's all right.
What's he look like?
He's a real big guy.
Fat but big.
Thanks, kid.
I'll make it up to you later.
He fought to keep calm.
No time to turn into a panic man.
Stiff-armed to the door and got into the street.
His hand measured the few bills in his pocket and he wondered how far they'd take him.
Bigelow was closing in.
Then a piece of shadow split away from the wall.
Hello, Dandy.
Did the kid tell you about Bigelow's friend waiting for you inside?
I don't know what you're talking about.
Not about the one waiting outside, huh?
The man was tall and thin, skinny even.
He looked as if they'd made his face, forgotten a mouth and then torn one.
Dandy tried to move around him.
Let's get my buddy, then we'll go see.
When I say move, move.
Dandy fought his fear as he watched the elevator arrow swing down.
He was tall and fat.
His eyes looked as if someone had tried to hide two grapes in some dirty grease.
You got him.
Good.
He was taken off.
This punk here must have told him he was in his room.
You're the punk, huh?
Don't matter, we got him.
You're going to keep your mouth shut about this, aren't you?
Leave him alone.
Shut up, Dandy man.
I won't save you for Bigelow.
Kid, you say anything, this is just a sample of what you'll get.
Let's go.
Where are we going?
I said Bigelow wants to talk to you.
What's that want with me?
Did you hear that Earl?
A conical tin shade hung over the desk.
Everything had a coating of dirt as if Bigelow had had the place sprayed with it.
Dandy was very careful not to touch or rub up against anything.
Nice to see you, Dandy.
It's always nice to see you.
Always so sharp, the Dandy man.
The suit must have cost you plenty.
Me I'm just a slob.
No $200 suits for me.
A ready mate from Joe the tailor in Madison.
Just a slob.
But I pay my debts.
Where's my money, Dandy?
Well you see Ed...
No conversation.
I can get that any time with the boys here.
But I want to tell you...
You got the thousand?
Yes or no?
Oh now listen Ed...
Enough answer like he says.
We don't like to be rough, Dandy.
We're friends.
What's the answer?
No I ain't got it.
I can get it for you Ed.
I ain't no well-sher.
I mean ask anyone in town.
You told me you had it.
I figured wrong.
What come of your figured room?
I didn't know how far I'd gone.
I laid out a lot of bets.
The whole roll huh?
Kiss in the dark.
You too can be a winner.
Anybody can play.
And you did it on my market, Dandy.
Not all of it.
Thousand of it.
I don't like to be played for no chump.
I don't like it.
You should be gambling with my money.
Just give me a week.
Seven days.
Six.
Five even.
Tomorrow I'll have it.
Chicago's hard in reputations, Dandy.
One guy does it to me and maybe some other think I'm losing my grip.
It would be bad if word got around somebody played me for a patsy.
Ain't that right fellas?
Yeah, like you say.
I shouldn't have spread the bet so thin.
Should have kept down a little.
Left to pay off that big one.
I'll get it, I tell you.
Point is you should have had it.
Like you said.
Oh Ed, what's a thousand to you?
You got...
Ain't no use, Dandy.
Like they say down at the courthouse, you gotta be made an example of.
Yeah.
You wouldn't kill me.
I don't want to be hard.
I'll tell you what.
I'll leave it up to the boys.
Plant them.
Take the bloom off the Dandy man.
Get him out of here.
I'll take that watch, Dandy.
You won't be needing it.
I'll match you for it.
Sure, I ain't greedy.
We're going out to the forest preserve, huh?
A nice drive into the country.
It's peaceful out there.
You'll get a nice rest.
You're caught.
A joker.
Yeah, we go down Clark Street, see?
To North Avenue and then west to the country.
We park a little and we come back.
Me and Lloyd, that is.
Out North Avenue, right through the old neighborhood, his mind raced ahead.
Forgotten details of dirt and squalor struggled forward from the shadows where he pushed them,
the streets, the alleys.
Then it hit him, the police station on Blackhawk.
If he could get out of the car, run.
Run to the station.
He'd have to make the break when the car was moving time and just right.
There was only one street that cut into North Avenue that would do him any good, Sedgwick.
Then halfway down the block, into the alley and through the vacant lot at the end, the
car couldn't follow.
Then a half block more to the police station and he'd be safe.
And then suddenly he saw the battered old black on yellow sign as the car entered the
intersection.
Sedgwick.
Dandy hit the door, then the street bent over, running, sprawling into a tin newsstand.
Then he was on his feet, running.
The car wrenched around like a giant crab and then heaped down the street.
They didn't shoot.
Dandy's hand hooked on no parking sign and he swung into the alley without slowing.
Then he knew something was wrong.
He looked up and saw.
There was a building at the end of the alley where the vacant lot had been.
He whirled around.
The warehouse stretched back to the street on one side, the other had store bags, solid,
no fences.
The backbone of the elevated track cut over the end of the alley.
A dirty bulb burned on the warehouse fire escape that crawled up the side of the building
like a steel vine, dead, just out of reach.
He pivoted and ran back to the back of the alley, softly, softly, hide and seek.
He'd played it here before.
It was a restaurant that blocked the alley.
As he moved in among the garbage cans, his nose wrinkled.
Two shadows moved along the warehouse wall, bottling him up.
There were four garbage cans, then a space, then some more.
The shadow was deepest right behind them.
Dandy knelt down, then slid out flat.
His soft manicured hands quivered from what he felt under them.
He tried to hold his breath.
Let's get him.
No, he might be any place in there.
Well, you could stay here and I could look.
He's too fast.
I don't want to shoot at that distance.
Biggles pan is to be sure.
I want to put the gun right in the middle of that suit and burn it.
If we go for him now, there'd be too much noise.
Well, maybe an elevator comes along and covers the noise.
Still a chance.
Dandy ain't worth it.
Yeah, that's right.
There was a drugstore back where he jumped out.
Call Frank.
Tell him to bring another guy.
Then I'll be quiet and sure.
We can go on out to the country like Bigelow wants it.
Okay.
Hey, wait a minute.
You want to come out now?
It'll be easier.
If we got to go to a lot of trouble, it's going to make us mad.
The skinny man took a drag on his cigarette.
Dandy could see it wink and then glow bright red.
The long finger flipped it in a gentle arc over the cans into the deep shadows.
It hissed and went out as it hit the muck.
We'll use them on you, Dandy.
We'll cook you a little at a time.
You lousy stall.
Stall.
Pray for a break.
Why don't you play it smart, Dandy?
Take off.
He tries to go past me. The shots won't make no difference.
I'll pick Gamp in the corner heading north.
Okay.
Hey, get some cigarettes.
We want to have plenty.
And Dandy remembered.
He'd get out after all.
The hundred to one shot suddenly turned into a bolt race.
He remembered when he was a kid.
The cops would come along on their way to the station.
Sure, that wouldn't be changed.
It was routine.
Cops never change routine.
They get fat on it.
When the cops came, he'd holler.
And they'd get the two who'd been pushing him around.
Go ahead.
Wait.
Fat man.
It'll be right over. I got the cigarettes and matches.
Lots of matches.
Still playing hard to get.
He's gonna wish he hadn't.
Dandy grinned as he thought of the cops.
And then suddenly realized how much his back ached
from holding his head out of the slopped tin cans.
He thought of his suit and his shirt and his hand painted silk tie.
And what his friends would say if they could see Dandy DeAngelis
laid out in this sewer.
The smell flooded in on him.
And he gritted his teeth.
He didn't want to lie in that too.
It was the first time he'd ever wished he was on an elevator.
Well, the cops would be here any second.
He didn't know what made him turn his head.
He just lifted his cheek off his hand and swiveled his head around.
Oh.
The skin went tight all over his body.
And he almost screamed and jumped up.
But instead, he froze and stared.
Just two feet away, its head just emerging into the light
was an enormous rat.
He hated them.
Worse than anything, he hated them.
When he was a kid, he'd always been afraid of them.
They were the old tenement, the dank hallways and crowded rooms,
the dirty smells that got into your skin and stayed there.
He'd been bitten as a boy and never gotten over it.
Oh, what?
What am I gonna do?
He thought he'd left all that behind him.
But he hadn't.
Dandy D'Angeles, the dandy man,
lying in filth, staring at a rat.
If he made a sound, they'd move in on him.
And then the matches and cigarettes and gun in the stomach.
Easy, dandy boy, easy.
If it meant his life, he'd stay there with a rat.
Sure.
What can I do?
What can I do?
It moved a few inches into the light,
hugging the garbage can on the other side of the open space.
It was a foot long and heavy.
He remembered when he was a kid and they'd kill one.
The filth into the fleas.
That had been bad enough.
But then, rats with dirty shadows had hugged the wall and ran.
This one was on the same level with him,
hugging the same wall.
He'd come down a long way.
Anytime you're ready, dandy.
I guess he likes laying in that mess.
There was a little breeze,
and he saw the fur on its back move.
He felt sick again.
He was so sick.
It hunched itself around.
Dandy started back in spite of himself,
in spite of the men waiting for him to make a sound.
It didn't run at his slight motion.
Dandy killed his breath.
He was so close to it,
he could even see the rings on its tail.
Oh.
It moved again, and this time faced right at him.
His eyes seemed to stare right into his own.
The thin-skinned ears stood upright and straight,
and Dandy could see the fleas crawling.
It lifted its head, and Dandy saw the teeth that never stopped growing,
but get worn down and sharpened all the time.
The spot on his hand where he'd been bitten as a kid started to burn.
Get away.
Get away.
Dandy tried to move back.
He was afraid to scare it for fear it would scuttle off over the cans and bottles
and detract the two waiting to kill him.
He reached out to the side and back.
His right hand closed on a milk bottle.
He gripped the neck, and slowly,
watching the rat brought the bottle up beside his head, his arm cocked,
he stayed there, trying not to jump up and run away from it,
trying to wait for...
He hadn't been watching.
Let's keep an eye on those guys. They say they'd be right over.
Take it easy.
You'd get anxious to get your hands on a bunk of.
I'd get it over with.
Dandy realized with relief that he'd have heard the cops if they'd gone by.
They were always loud, but they'd better hurry.
He swung his head slowly back to the rat.
As he did, his skin crawled.
If there was one rat, there were always more.
He looked to the side, dreading what he would see.
But there was nothing.
It moved.
It tore at him.
He stopped breathing and waited.
It hunched there, watching him.
Maybe it thought he was dead.
He'd heard about dead people and rats.
Maybe it wanted the warmth.
It crouched there, evil, foul, staring at him.
No.
No.
He forgot the men in the alley, the burning cigarettes and the gun held close to his belly.
He forgot the cops who were going to come any minute to be just as quiet as he was.
All he could think of was that he was Dandy DeAngeles, lying there in front of a rat.
The old neighborhood was still there, waiting for him all these years.
He hadn't gotten away after all.
No.
But he would get away.
He swung the bottle, invisible in its speed, swung it with all his might.
No.
Swung it with all the disgust and loathing and hatred that he felt.
It didn't break.
It hit something soft.
He beat it and beat it and beat it and beat it.
He didn't hear them as they moved over to him.
Their guns at his head.
Finished.
Finished.
Free.
Dandy stopped and stood up.
He looked down at it as it lay in the light between the cans.
It wouldn't bother him anymore.
The old neighborhood and the dirt and the smells sank.
Sank back.
Away.
Away.
He dropped the bottle.
Tried to wipe his hand.
Look at that.
Dandy killed a rat.
Yeah.
Now it's our turn.
Suspense.
You've been listening to Hide and Seek, starring Jackson Beck and William Redfield,
and written especially for suspense by Bob Corcoran.
In a moment, a word about next week's story of suspense.
All of us see the product that comes out of Hollywood.
What people like to know, though, is what goes on in Hollywood.
The amusing anecdotes, the joys, the heartbreaks, life in this so untypical town.
These and many other intriguing subjects provide Ralph Story's weekday dimension reports in Hollywood.
Listening to this CBS Radio Network feature will bring you information and entertainment of film land.
Your next date with Ralph Story in Hollywood tomorrow.
Another CBS Radio Network dimension feature is A Woman's World with Betty Furness.
Three times each day, we send Betty your way.
Suspense is produced and directed by Bruno Zarrato Jr.
Music supervision by Ethel Huber.
Sound patterns by Joseph Cabibbo and Don Creed.
Featured in tonight's story, Santos Ortega as Bigelow, Larry Haynes as Lloyd,
Joseph Julian as Earl, and Jack Grimes as Herbie.
Listen again next week when we return with Dagger of the Mind, written by John Robert.
Another tale well calculated to keep you in...
...suspense.
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