Now, Roma Wines presents...
Suspense!
Tonight, Banquo's Chair, starring Donald Crisp and John Loder.
Suspense is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines. That's R-O-M-A, Roma Wines.
Those excellent California wines that can add so much pleasantness to the way you live, to your happiness and entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals.
Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you...
Suspense!
This is the Man in Black, here to introduce this weekly half hour of...
Suspense!
This evening, Roma Wines bring you as stars two distinguished gentlemen from the Hollywood Sound stages, Donald Crisp and John Loder.
Mr. Crisp and Mr. Loder are here to enact for us a strange and startling drama, in which they, in the interests of justice, made use of an unusual method to wring a confession of guilt from a criminal.
But before we raise the curtain on Rupert Croft Cook's story, Banquo's Chair, which is tonight's study in Suspense, here is a message from your host.
Let us picture a scene beneath a radiant Caribbean moon, at the fashionable Hotel Nacional de Cuba in Havana.
An American dinner guest has just raised his glass in a toast to Havana. Its traditions, its beauty, the superb dinner, the wine.
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But the wine of which you speak so highly, that is of your country. It is the famed Roma Wine, made in your own California.
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And now with Banquo's chair, and with the performances of Donald Crisp as Sir William Brent, and John Loder as Arthur Grain, Sir William's friend who relates the story to us, we again hope to keep you in suspense.
I would like you to look at this photograph. It's the picture of Sir William Brent, ex-head of the English Criminal Investigation.
I knew Sir William well, and he always terrified me. Not in the sense that he was brutal or evil, he was none of that, but look at that cold face, particularly his eyes.
When he looked at you, you flushed with guilt. Every misdeed you ever committed in your life floated over your face. A glance from him made you feel as if you were stark naked. He saw you with all your defenses down.
I'm going to tell you about Sir William's last case, a case that, well, even recalling it sends real shudders through me. I swear it's true. I wish I never had, but I saw it with my own eyes. I witnessed it in all its dreadful details.
One night about 11 in the evening at the club, a boy came up to me, telegram for you, sir. I ripped open the envelope and read the telegram. Dear Arthur, will you come and dine with me at Turret House, Sydenham on Thursday?
There will be several guests, and I think I can promise you an unforgettable evening, signed William Brent. I was annoyed. I don't like to receive telegrams so late in the evening.
And Sir William could easily have phoned, unless he didn't want to go into details with me. I decided to phone him.
Hello? Hello?
This is Arthur Grange calling.
Yes, I know. Did you receive my telegram?
Yes, Sir William. What's all the mystery about?
I'll tell you about that on Thursday. Are you coming?
Yes, I'll be there.
Very good. I particularly want you to be there.
You sound so mysterious. I'm thinking of coming armed or bringing a couple of bodyguards.
No, it wouldn't be necessary to bring bodyguards. But you had better come armed, well armed. Yes, bring a revolver. Good night.
Early Thursday evening I made my way to Turret House. A windy November rain slashed at the streets. Turret House is a huge red brick, unpleasantly somber mansion.
An ugly product of Queen Victoria's time. There it squatted, back of the road, almost hidden from view by several dripping pine trees.
The neighborhood had seen better days. I walked up along the unkept path until I reached the great oak and gall.
Good evening, Mr. Grange. I was waiting for you.
Hello, Len. Nasty night, sir, isn't it?
It's not much warmer in here.
There's a power in the dining room.
Good. What ever made Sir William move into this drafty dungeon?
Oh, we haven't moved in, sir. It's only temporary. Sir William just rented it. We still live in the West End.
Oh, I see. Have any of the other guests arrived?
Yes, Mr. Grange. Miss Stone is here.
Oh, hello there.
Oh, you must be Roberta Stone, the mystery writer. I'm Arthur Grange.
How do you do, Mr. Grange?
I've read all of your stories, Miss Stone, and enjoyed them tremendously.
Oh, that's very nice of you. Thank you so much.
Listen, just what's going on here tonight?
I don't know. Sir William sounded awfully mysterious.
Didn't he, though? He told me to come armed.
He told me the same thing. Here's my gun. I must admit I've never fired it in my life. It scares me to death.
Why do you suppose he picked a spot like this to give a dinner party?
Oh, it's the scene of the crime.
Huh? What crime?
Murder. A particularly unpleasant one.
Really? I must say the murderer couldn't have picked a more ideal setting.
Well, good evening, Roberta. Arthur. I'm glad you're both on time.
Hello, Sir William.
What a nice apartment you have here. A sort of mausoleum and dining room combined.
You're a bit afraid, aren't you?
Of course not. Why should I be?
Your eyes give you away.
What's all this about? You invite us to this godforsaken damp dungeon and tell us to come armed?
Now, don't be upset, Arthur. It's only a precaution.
Who's the other guest, Sir William?
Well, there are two more guests. But first, I'll tell you all about it.
Lane, will you serve the drinks?
Yes, Sir William.
I'll tell you what's going to happen tonight. This house, Turrett House, was the scene of the Sydenham murder, a very famous case.
Yes, of course. I remember it.
That's right. No offense, old man, but wasn't it the only case you never solved?
Arthur, I solved the Sydenham case, but I couldn't bring the criminal to justice because of insufficient evidence.
You mean you knew who the murderer was?
Yes, of course. It was the nephew.
The nephew? Then why in the world didn't you put him in...
Because the nephew had an absolute and unimpeachable alibi.
To have arrested him would have meant a waste of time and money, and a release in the end.
Besides, according to English law, a man acquitted can never be arrested again on the same murder charge.
The nephew, John Bedford, will be here to dine with us. And, oh yes, the victim, Miss Ferguson.
What? Hey, wait. Do you mean Miss Ferguson wasn't actually murdered?
Miss Ferguson is quite dead. Has been dead these two years.
You mean you're going to have the body of Miss Ferguson here while we eat?
Well, this promises to be a very gay dinner.
Now, see here, as you both know, I've never lost a case except the Sydenham murder, which will be finished tonight.
Now, I'm an egotist. I don't believe there's a criminal in all England that can outwit me.
And as a matter of fact, I've resigned from the criminal investigation for the sole purpose of trapping Mr. John Bedford.
You have an awful lot of patience.
Infinite patience. I devoted two years to this case, and now that my moment of triumph has arrived, I wanted to have some witnesses.
A writer who will record the event, and an admirer who will applaud with awe the cleverness of my scheme.
If it's as gruesome as I think it is, I won't be here to watch it.
Oh, I think you will. Horror has a way of fascinating and hypnotizing people.
Besides, Arthur, you'd be ashamed to run out now.
I'll stay, of course.
So will I.
Oh, good. Now, before I tell you my scheme, let me first acquaint you with the details of the murder.
Well, exactly two years ago tonight, in this very house,
Oh, Miss Ferguson.
Hilda. Hilda, where are you? Oh, where is that foolish maid?
Yes, Miss Ferguson.
Why don't you answer when I call?
Well, I was in the kitchen, Mum.
It's after ten o'clock. You should be on your way home.
Well, I was just about to leave. Has my nephew called?
No, Mum. Mr. Bedford hasn't called since yesterday. I told him he couldn't come in, just like you said.
I don't ever want to see him again. He's no good. He's an evil man who will come to an evil end.
You're never to let him in here, Hilda.
He won't ever come in this house if I can help it.
No, Mum.
Now you'd better run along and make sure all the doors are bolted.
Yes, Mum.
Hmm. I'll change my will. Won't leave him a penny, I won't.
Good night, Miss Ferguson.
Oh, good night, Hilda.
Good night.
Who does he think he is? In the morning I'll change the will. That's what I...
Who's there? Who is it?
It's I, Aunt Martha, your own affectionate nephew.
What are you doing in my house?
You're not at all pleased to see me. You're only living relative, too.
I'd like you to leave at once or I'll call the police.
I'd rather not, Auntie. I want to have a talk with you.
You don't want to talk to me. All you want is money.
Yes, Auntie. I want money and lots of it.
You've got all the money you'll ever get out of me.
You won't even get a penny after I die. I'll see to that.
Perhaps you'll appreciate the value of money after you've worked for it.
Why are you wearing gloves?
I've made up my mind, Auntie.
What are you doing? Keep away!
You're an old woman, Auntie. All that money is no good for you. You can't ever use it.
I'm young. Money means life to me, a rich and gay life.
You're old, Auntie, and you're going to die soon anyway.
No! It can't be! You're not going to do that!
Yes, Auntie, I am!
You don't want to live anyway, Auntie. You're lonely, sick and old.
I'm doing you a favour!
Nobody can hear you, Auntie.
I'm your heir, your only heir, Auntie. Your next of kin.
Your stage is going to be mine, Auntie. All of it.
Now, don't you worry, Auntie. We'll have a fine funeral for you.
The
Yes, yes, that's pretty much the way old Mrs Ferguson was murdered.
Hilda found the body the next morning.
I immediately went to work on the case. All the evidence pointed to John Bedford.
Everyone believed he committed the crime. He almost admitted it himself.
I had him brought into my office for questioning.
How do you do, Sir William?
Cigarette. Thank you.
Well, how does it feel to kill your own aunt?
May I have a light, please? Yes, of course.
Thank you. I wouldn't know, Sir William. You see, I never killed anyone. Have you?
I have, Mr Bedford. I've sent quite a few to the gallows.
So I understand.
What was your relationship to Miss Ferguson?
She was my aunt. Don't be slippant.
Well, to tell you the truth, sir, my aunt didn't like me.
She thought I was a spendthrift and a useless parasite, and she was quite right.
Now, I believe it's customary to ask the accused his whereabouts on the night of the crime.
Yes, it is. And won't you tell me?
In jail. I had a little too much and got into a bit of a tiff with someone.
That's quite an alibi. Quite a fact.
It was hardly possible for me to be in jail and kill my aunt at the same time.
Unless, of course, my aunt came into my cell and allowed me to murder her,
after which she walked back to the Tullet House as a ghost dragging her body behind her.
Hardly possible.
Don't you think you ought to check my story?
I already have. You've done a very skillful job.
Too bad you couldn't use your talents for something constructive.
Well, then, why don't you arrest me, Sir William?
No, Mr Bedford, I have time. Plenty of time.
Well, you'd better work fast.
If you get around to me, I'll have spent all of my aunt's beautiful money.
It's not the money we're after. It's you and your beautiful life.
Good day, Mr Bedford.
That's how the matter stood. I refused to let my men arrest him.
But how in the world could he have murdered his aunt when he was in jail?
Perhaps he bribed the prison guard to let him out for an hour.
That's excellent, Roberta. I believe that's exactly what happened.
Unfortunately, the guard died of pneumonia soon afterwards,
which left us no further source of evidence.
As far as I can see, Sir William, you haven't a leg to stand on.
You're quite right, Arthur. I haven't.
Except that every man, particularly a criminal, has an Achilles heel.
I discovered John Bedford's weakness.
Sounds like I'm going to have a good story.
What is it?
He's very superstitious.
How did you learn that?
I've never suffered a defeat in my life.
John Bedford was the first setback.
Here was a clever, calloused criminal who laughed at me.
No one had ever done that before.
Bedford knew I could do him no harm, and he made the most of it.
Carefully and patiently, I thought it over.
I looked upon Bedford as you would look upon a Chinese puzzle.
There is no such thing as an impregnable defense.
A few months later, I went to visit Bedford.
Sir William, what a surprise. Would you come in, please?
Thank you, Mr. Bedford.
I'm really honored to have the great Sir William Brent pay me a visit.
You're not after any more clues, I hope.
It does get rather tedious.
Not at all. I know when I'm licked.
I don't want to appear smug, sir, but everyone has his Waterloo.
Would you have a drink?
No, thanks. I suppose you're curious about why I came here.
Well, I hardly imagined it was a friendly visit.
I've resigned from the criminal investigation.
I'm a private citizen now.
Yes, I heard about that.
You know, most people misunderstand me.
It wasn't my love for justice that made me pursue my profession
with such tenacity and success.
Yes?
Of course, with the sole exception of your case, of course.
It was a game of skill to me.
My wits against all comers.
I lost in your case.
But then we've all got to lose some time.
I don't believe you, Sir William.
You're still after me. But I'm afraid it's no go.
I've kept out of trouble so far, Nuck Wood.
That's an odd habit for a man like you, Bedford.
You're not superstitious, are you?
Of course not.
Well, now as to the reason for my visit.
I noticed in the papers that you're looking for a tenant for Tarrant House.
Why, yes, I am. I'd like to rent it.
Well, the scene of the crime, huh?
Well, of course, why not? There's no harm in it.
As a matter of fact, I'll let you have it very cheaply.
And that's how I rented this house.
The house where the murder was committed.
What's your plan?
It had better be a good one. Mr. Bedford sounds like a hard customer.
Yes, it's a strange plan, but an effective one.
I saw Bedford frequently.
Our acquaintance blossomed into a kind of friendship.
An armed friendship, of course.
He knew I was out to get him, and I wanted him to know that.
He's vain, very vain. And this game intrigued him.
I also learned he's a very superstitious.
Tonight is the anniversary of the murder.
And tonight Mr. Bedford dines with us at eight o'clock.
It's nearly eight now.
Now, this is the plan. You and Rume Wakefield, of course.
Naturally, the Shakespearean actor.
That's right.
Now, during dinner, Miss Wakefield will enter the room
in the precise likeness of Miss Ferguson, the murdered woman.
We, of course, will pretend not to see her.
We remain outwardly unconscious of her.
Only Bedford will be aware of her presence.
I believe Bedford will confess.
But this is the anniversary. I'd imagine you'd keep away on this night.
He's giddy with success on also the fact that Roberta Stone,
the famous writer, is here with us.
Tweaks his vanity. He'll be here and promptly.
I don't like this.
Well, this is just like one of your stories.
It doesn't become you to be frightened.
I won't run away.
Now, there's one more thing.
During dinner, the electric lights will be switched off at the main,
and candles will be lit.
We must have the correct atmosphere.
You understand now. You are not to see May Wakefield.
She doesn't exist for us. Is that clear?
Well, I'll look right through her.
Oh, it gives me the creeps.
Ah, that's Bedford.
The appearance of John Bedford suddenly made the whole scene grimly real.
He was a tall, well-built man in his late thirties,
immaculately dressed and perfectly groomed.
At first sight, his face seemed pleasant enough,
but on closer scrutiny, his gray eyes were hard and cold.
He looked all of us over with arrogance and superiority.
I heartily wished I was elsewhere.
This was one scene I had no desire to witness.
After the introductions were over, we sat down to dinner.
Is it still nasty outside, Mr. Bedford?
Oh, getting worse.
Looks like we're in for a few days of this.
That's too bad.
I was going to do some writing tomorrow.
Mmm, the soup is excellent.
Oh, yes, yes, indeed. Your cook should be congratulated, sir.
The soup is a masterpiece.
Poor Alice. She's been my cook for 20 years,
but she's given me notice.
Absolutely refuses to stay here.
Says this house is haunted.
Roberta, you might make an interesting story for you.
You might speak to her.
Oh, really?
Alice swears that she's seen the figure of an elderly lady
with finger marks on her throat walking about the house.
Come now, Sir William. This is too good.
What an obvious attempt to frighten me.
Sir William is convinced that I murdered my aunt.
But please, Sir William, a little more subtlety.
Surely I deserve it.
Perhaps the cook did see the figure.
It might interest you to know, Mr. Bedford,
that I don't believe in ghosts.
And I'm sure my cook never saw this elderly figure.
It's all in her mind.
I am afraid your little attempt didn't work, sir,
but I must admit your graceful admission of its failure.
Yes, I suppose I'd better give up, shouldn't I?
Oh, no, no, no, never give up.
If at first you don't succeed, you know...
Do you live very far from here, Mr. Bedford?
Thank you, Miss Stone.
There's really no need to change the topic.
I hope you find this game as amusing as I do.
I'm sorry, Mr. Bedford,
but this isn't my idea of pleasant dinner conversation.
Well, we'll talk of pleasant things, then, eh?
I saw a very exciting play last night.
Excuse me a moment. It's really fearfully hot in here.
Do you mind if we get a little air, sir?
Oh, I'm sorry. It is rather warm.
Lane, open the windows, please.
Yes, sir.
What terrible weather.
I don't know how we'll ever get home in this.
It's a bad month of the year.
I had intended to go to the Riviera after the season, but you...
Lane, what on earth is wrong with the lights?
I don't know, sir.
Well, don't stand there. Light the candles.
We can't sit here in the darkness.
And get the chauffeur.
He knows something about the electric lights.
I'll call the chauffeur right away, sir.
Yes, I'm terribly sorry about this.
We've had trouble with the wiring before.
The chauffeur will have it fixed in a few minutes.
Now, let's go on with our dinner.
This is one of your tricks, Sir William.
Have some more wine, Mr. Bedford.
Thank you.
It was a tense and terrible moment.
I looked at Roberta. She was pale and frightened.
Bedford, for all his poise, was uneasy.
He didn't know whether Sir William was planning anything,
or whether this was really an accident.
My heart was pounding away,
and my palms were wet with perspiration.
Only Sir William appeared cool.
There was not a trace of emotion in his face.
Oh, Mr. Bedford, you were saying about visiting the Riviera.
It's quite a change from England at this time of year.
Well, I suppose I'll make the trip next month, but I...
What's the matter, Mr. Bedford?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
I wish we could have some light. It's rather difficult to see.
Yes, I'm terribly sorry. I just had to have my... just a dinner.
Have a little more wine, Mr. Bedford.
Oh, yes. Here's, thank you.
The figure of a woman had entered the room.
She had come in silently, like a ghost.
We all saw her,
but not one of us moved or made a sign of recognition.
In the dim candlelight, she looked ghostly and unreal.
Bedford looked at all of us to see if we had also seen the figure before his eyes.
But we ate our dinner grimly.
He looked again,
then shook his head and gulped more wine.
Don't any of you see anything?
See what, Mr. Bedford?
There's another one of your tricks.
Can't any of you see her?
What's got into you, Bedford?
It's my aunt. My aunt.
Your aunt's dead, Mr. Bedford.
You're not seeing ghosts, I hope.
Maybe I had...
She's... she's coming to old me.
Now calm yourself. I've never seen you like this.
There's no one else here.
Do you see anyone, Roberta?
No. No, Sir William.
I don't either.
Let me out of here.
I can't make you out, Bedford. There's no one here.
My nephew.
You're not wearing gloves today, John.
She's real.
Can't any of you see her? Can't you hear her?
What's come over you, Bedford?
I'm leaving here.
I'm going to the door. She won't let me out.
I'm an old woman.
Money is no good for me.
I'm lonely, John.
I'm lonely.
Let me by, old Martha, out of my way.
There's no one in your way, Bedford. Please sit down.
Get away from that door! I'll murder you again!
You hear that, Mother? I'll murder you again, you old witch!
I'll murder you again!
All right. Switch on the lights.
I'll murder you again.
Officer Graham, arrest him.
You heard the confession.
Put the handcuffs on him.
I've never seen anything so horrible.
Let me out of here.
Well, Bedford, it seems that I've finally caught up with you.
I'll kill her again. I'll kill her again!
That wasn't your aunt. It was Miss Wakefield, the actress.
I'll kill her again! I'll kill her again!
Take him away, Graham. He's in a state of shock.
Shall we continue with our dinner?
I hope you're fully satisfied, Sir William.
Quite. It's been a long job.
But it has ended as I knew it would.
I'm most grateful to you both for your help.
I thought it was a pretty grim affair.
I must say you know your job.
May Wakefield certainly knew hers.
That was the finest piece of acting I've ever seen.
Yes. Her make-up was incredibly good.
I must congratulate her. She's probably gone to her room.
Oh, Elaine.
Yes, Sir?
Please call Miss Wakefield.
Miss Wakefield, Sir?
Yes, the lady who's been assisting us this evening.
I haven't seen her, Sir, but I look for her, Sir.
Yes, well, tell her to come down and join us.
We have a fine dinner waiting for her.
Oh, excuse me, Sir, but this telegram came a little while ago.
I didn't want to disturb you during dinner.
Let me have it.
Sir William, what's wrong?
Good.
I'll read it to you.
Extremely sorry.
Severe influenza makes it impossible for me to leave my bed tonight.
Will tomorrow night do.
Signed, May Wakefield.
Lord, help us.
If it wasn't May Wakefield, then who was that figure here tonight?
There was no answer.
I looked at Sir William staring at the telegram.
His face was gray and stony.
On his left temple a crooked blue vein stood out.
It twitched once or twice, and then was motionless.
He looked.
He looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
And so closes Banquo's Chair, starring Donald Crisp and John Loder.
Tonight's tale of Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed by William Spear.
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This is John Loder.
There is no program that Mr. Crisp and I admire more than Suspense.
And I know I speak for him as well as myself in saying how thoroughly we have enjoyed our appearance here this evening.
Now, with the request of our government, I want to pass this information along on behalf of the Merchant Marine.
Six ships a day instead of five soon will be coming off the ways of our shipyards.
The United States shipbuilding program is being increased rather than cut.
A few days ago, contracts were awarded for 262 additional new ships.
Every one of them must be manned by 40 to 50 men, most of them with previous sea experience.
The longer Pacific distances and expanding supply problems on every front will call for the continuous employment of large numbers of men and ships until Japan is totally defeated.
The universal demand for a strong post-war Merchant Marine makes post-war opportunities in these jobs fully as great as in any American industry today.
Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Mr. Charles Lawton as star of Suspense.
Presented by the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California, Roma wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.