Now, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California presents...
Suspense!
Tonight, Roma wines bring you a suspenseful play by Dashiell Hammett called Two Sharp Knives,
and starring John Payne and Frank McHugh.
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 a remarkable tale of suspense.
And with the drama called Two Sharp Knives, and with the performances of Mr. John Payne as Scott Anderson
and Mr. Frank McHugh as Wally Shane, Roma Wines hope indeed to keep you in...
Suspense!
Shortly after 2 a.m., a poker game was breaking up at Ben Camsley's,
the doctor coroner of Dearwood City.
Scott Anderson, Dearwood's efficient chief of police, and Wally Shane, his wife,
were just about to leave.
Talk about thieves. Our own chief of police committed nothing less than larceny,
the way he won that last part.
Yes, and having won it, I noticed he's losing no time in making off with the swag.
Shots! Why don't you boys just break down, admit you don't know how to play like old Professor Scott here.
You couldn't win a poker hand if it was on a punch board.
It's a good thing he's chief of police.
Come on, Wally, let's get out of here before these amateurs break my heart.
Okay, Scott, anything you say.
Where are we heading for, chief?
Just across the street, Wally, the railroad station.
Oh, shucks. Aren't you afraid of the excitement?
Don't you think that watching the 211 come in is half to be too much for your blood pressure?
Well, if it is, Wally, you can always carry on.
You've been a fair imitation of an assistant to me for some time now.
Yeah?
Yeah.
If anything happens to me, you'll be chief.
Don't worry, it won't be any harder for you to fool the public as chief.
Hi, Elmer.
Hi. Oh, howdy, Scotty.
Well, hi, old Wally boy.
Hi, Elmer.
Say, it's kind of late for you bigs to be around, isn't it?
Oh, I don't know. We sort of figured we'd put the town to bed tonight.
How's the 211? On time?
Right on the nose, Wally, right on the nose.
She ought to be blowing for the bend in just about three seconds now.
By golly, she fooled Mrs. Early. That's her now.
Why, you expecting anyone on us, Scotty?
No, Elmer, I'm not expecting anyone.
Wally, I just thought we'd mosey over and watch her come in, that's all.
You know, Elmer, you can never tell who might get off though.
Jesse James or Jack the Ripper or even your Aunt Gussie.
Yeah, I guess you're right, Wally.
Well, here should be he prodigies, but I've got to be rolling the wagon out to the bank, Scotty.
Good, good.
Hi, Elmer. How's it going?
Oh, I can't complain. I can't complain, Captain.
Well, maybe you can, Elmer, but I sure can.
You hold us up with that freight there.
Not much more?
No, no.
This is the last piece now.
Well, maybe I can't show all guns.
Okay, see you tomorrow, Elmer.
Hey, Scott, do you see what I see?
You mean do I see the man who just got off that train? The answer's yes.
Well, he's a ringer for the guy we got that circle about.
That is the guy.
Well, then, what do we do now?
We take him, Wally, let's go.
Whatever you say, Scott. Here he comes, over toward the taxi stand.
Driver, I want to go to the Dearwood Hotel.
Oh, never mind. I see the hotel sign just a few blocks down the street.
Sorry, I'll walk.
Hello, Furman.
Oh, I don't believe I...
You're Lester Furman, aren't you?
Yes, I am.
Philadelphia?
Yes.
I'm Scott Anderson, Chief of Police here in Dearwood, I...
What? What's happened to her?
Happened to who?
Oh, no, you don't.
You think you can pull that sort of stuff with me? You're very much mistaken.
Now, look...
Okay, Scott.
You're silly.
Let me get a quack at that mug.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute, gentlemen.
Hold it, Wally, hold it up.
Well, Furman...
I'm sorry for a moment there. I thought that you weren't really a policeman.
Thanks. I guess I look almost human in civvies.
Until... until I saw the other gentleman's uniform, I thought you were a hold-up man, Mr. Scott.
Never mind the thanks.
It was silly of me. I'm sorry.
Well, let's get going before anything else happens.
Are... are you taking me to police headquarters?
Mm-hmm.
What for?
Philadelphia.
I... I don't think I understand you.
You understand you're wanted in Philadelphia, don't you?
I'm wanted in Philadelphia?
Yeah. Got a cigarette?
Huh? Oh, yes, of course.
You are?
What am I wanted for?
Murder.
Here we are. Here's the circular on Lester Furman.
It was sent out by the Trans-American Detective Agency in Philadelphia.
$1,500 reward for the arrest and conviction of Lester Furman, alias Lloyd Fields, alias J.D. Carpenter,
for the murder of Paul Frank Dunlap in Philadelphia on December the 8th, 1942.
Oh, no.
Take a look at it.
Well?
It's a lie.
You're Furman, aren't you?
Yes.
The photograph reproduced in the circular is a picture of you, isn't it?
Yes, yes, it is, but I... I can't understand it.
Here, here, here. You'd better sit down.
Oh, well, what we got here?
We got Lester Furman.
Oh, the Phil...
You lucky stiffs.
Now you and Wally spent a grand and a half reward, though.
Jeez, I've never seen nothing like it.
If it ain't vacations in New York at the city's expense, it's reward, Moolah.
George, someday, if you don't remember you're the jailer around here and not the D.A.,
you're gonna be wearing your teeth on the outside of your lip,
and I'll be the guy who arranged it that way. You understand?
Oh, just cause you caught a guy who's hot in Philadelphia.
It's a lie. I never killed anybody. I won't be framed. I won't be framed.
Oh, Shocks. Take it easy, Furman.
Save it for the Philadelphia police. We're just holding you for them.
If anything wrong, it's there, not here.
But it's not the police. It's the trans-American deti...
Mr. Anderson, I... I...
I suppose you're sure there's nothing I can do.
There's nothing anyone can do till morning.
All right, George, you take Furman out and lock him up.
Come along, darling. We ain't had nobody in our little hoot-cow for three days running.
You'll have it all to yourself, just like a sweet at the Ritz.
Well, good night and... thank you.
Make him as comfortable as you can, George. If he wants anything sent in, OK.
He's valuable, huh? Now, if some bum didn't mean a nickel to you,
maybe I ought to take a pillar off my own bed for him.
Eh, nuts. He's just like the rest of them to me. Shut up!
Perhaps you forgot my remark about your teeth a while back, George.
Any day now, I'm going to forget your uncle's county chairman
and throw you back in the gutter just to see how high you'll bounce.
Remember that. Do all the talking you want, but do what I tell you.
Oh, shock, Scott. George don't mean nothing. He's just money mad.
OK, OK, I'm going home now. If it's anything urgent, I can be reached there.
But I don't want to be disturbed unless it's urgent.
Oh, hello. Hello.
Scott, this is Wally. Yeah, Wally? Oh, what time is it?
It's five after six in the morning and you'd better come right down, Scott.
That fellow Furman's hung himself. What? Hung himself?
Yeah, by his belt from a window bar. Dead earn a mackerel.
I'll be right in, Wally. Phone Ben Camsley. Tell him I'll pick him up on the way down.
Oh, shucks. No doctor's going to do Furman any good now.
Well, I won't have him hurt to have him looked at.
You'd better phone the county court at Douglasville, too, and file a routine report.
I already did that. And what's more, hold on to your seat.
The DA's on the way over, in person. The DA?
I'll be there before you hang up.
For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you with stars Mr. John Payne and Mr. Frank McHugh,
whom you've heard in the first act of Two Sharp Knives by Dashiell Hammett,
which is Roma Wines' presentation tonight of Suspense.
Between the acts of Suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.
Elsa Maxwell, famed hostess, makes this suggestion for added mealtime enjoyment.
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R-O-M-A, Roma wine.
And now, Roma wines bring back to our sound stage,
John Payne as Scott Anderson, Dearwood City Chief of Police,
and Frank McHugh as Assistant Chief Wally Shane in Two Sharp Knives,
a play well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Come on in, Chief. Good old Ted Carroll, the D.A.'s here,
and he's plenty hot under the collar.
Yeah, what's he burning about?
Oh, he's just mad. He's run up quite a phone bill for us, too.
Been calling Philadelphia every couple of minutes since he got here.
What kept you so long?
I couldn't get my car started. Well, let's go in.
Hello, Ted.
Listen, Scott, what is all this?
Oh, what?
This fiddly D, this hanky-panky.
I suppose you mean Furman. Wasn't it suicide?
Sure it was suicide. I just telephoned TransAmerican,
dug a guy out of bed there. They phoned me just a few minutes ago
and said they'd never send out any circulars on Furman.
They didn't want him for murder or anything else.
The only thing they knew about him was he used to be a client of theirs.
I don't know what to say, Ted.
I don't either. What on earth kept you so long, Scott?
A car stall. Came as quick as I could.
Well, what makes you so edgy, Ted?
Oh, nothing. I guess it's just the district attorney in me.
Oh, shucks. Jance, if you're not careful,
you're liable to give the impression that you two don't like each other.
Okay, okay, Wally. I'll quit if he will.
Tell me what's wrong, Ted.
Well, there's plenty wrong, Scott. Everything's wrong.
First, that TransAmerican thing. They never sent out any circulars about Furman.
And I'll get this. I talked to the Philly police just before you came in.
There wasn't any Paul Frank Dunlap murder down there that they know about.
They've got no unexplained murder for December 8, 1942.
What did you get out of Furman before you let him hang himself?
Only, well, that he was innocent.
Well, didn't you grill him?
Didn't you find out what he was doing in town?
Wally, didn't you...
Oh, shucks. What fur?
He admitted his name was Furman. The circular description fitted him.
The photograph was him.
TransAmerican Detective Agency's supposed to be on the level.
Philadelphia wanted Furman. We didn't.
But, Scott...
Oh, sure, Ted, sure. If I'd known he was gonna hang himself,
but then if your aunt wore pants, she'd be your uncle.
You said Furman had been a client of TransAmerican.
Then tell me what kind of a job they were doing for him.
Well, his wife left him a couple of years ago,
and he had them hunting for her for five or six months.
But they never found her.
They're sending a man up here tonight to look things over.
Yeah.
Yes.
Hmm.
And I might as well tell you, Scott,
they're gonna raise plenty of trouble over this.
Yeah, yeah, I know that, Ted.
There usually is trouble when somebody dies in a jail cell.
Chief Henderson?
Yeah, yeah, come in.
They told me I'd find you here.
I'm Carl Rising, Assistant Manager of TransAmerican Detective Agency
in Philadelphia.
This is Mr. Wheelock, who was Lester Furman's personal attorney.
How do you do?
Glad to know you, Mr. Rising. Mr. Wheelock, this is Wally Shane, my assistant.
How are you?
How do you do?
I know you're general, but I'm not sure I'm a good fit for you.
I'm not sure I'm a good fit for you.
I know you gentlemen are already in possession of most of the details
concerning Mr. Furman from the time he arrived in Dearwood
until the time of his death.
But perhaps you don't know that the police of most towns
in our corner of the state have also received copies of this reward circular.
Get it for him, will you, Wally?
Here you are.
Why, this... this circular is a forgery.
Wow. You're sure it's a forgery, Mr. Rising?
Oh, yes, yes, there's no doubt about it.
And it's an excellent forgery.
The papers, style and type are almost exactly like those we use at Transamerica.
Almost, but not quite.
Wow. What do you know? A forgery.
Tell me, Mr. Wheelock, was Mr. Furman a native Philadelphian?
Oh, my, yes. He was well-known, respectable, prosperous citizen of Philadelphia.
Married, wasn't he?
In 1934, he married a 22-year-old girl named Ethel Bryan,
daughter of a Philadelphia family.
He had a child, isn't that right, Mr. Wheelock?
Yes, born in 1936.
But the child lived only a few months.
Mrs. Furman's wife disappeared after the child's death.
What year was it she disappeared?
Mr. Rising should remember that. His agency worked on that matter.
Yes, I remember it very well. Mrs. Furman disappeared in 1937.
We never heard anything of her again,
although Furman spent quite a lot of money trying to locate her.
Furman never divorced her, huh?
No, sir. I should say now he was very much in love with her.
And he seemed to think that the kid's dying made her a little screwy
so that she didn't know what she was doing.
That's right, isn't it, Mr. Wheelock?
Well, that is my belief, Mr. Rising.
You said Furman had money, Mr. Wheelock.
How much did he have, and who gets it?
I should say his estate will amount to perhaps a half a million dollars
left in its entirety to his wife.
His wife, huh?
Hmm. That's quite a handy sum for anyone to have, huh, Wally?
Yeah.
Tell me, do either of you know why Furman came to Deerwood?
No, I don't.
No? Oh, shucks. You were his attorney, Mr. Wheelock.
Don't you know if he told his servants or his office employers
or someone why he came here?
I know of no one of whom he told,
and I can't see that these questions of yours are getting us anywhere.
Why do you persist in asking them?
Because, Mr. Wheelock, everything shows that somebody framed Furman
into the Deerwood jail, and that frame-up drove him to suicide.
Nothing shows anything else.
And there has to be something else, a lot else.
Well, Chief, what do we do now?
I'm going across the street to Fritz' Undertaking Parlor.
Maybe I'll find something else there.
You find anything at the Undertaking Parlor, Scott?
No, not much.
Well, I was over there myself just after you left, and I did.
You did? What?
Well, I saw these...
Save it, Wally. Come in.
Hello. Am I bugging you into anything here?
Oh, shucks, no.
You know, the coroner's report is always welcome at a time like this, Doc.
What's on your mind, Doc?
Well, is it all right to talk here? I mean, can anyone hear us?
No, no, go ahead, talk.
Listen, Scott, two of those bruises showed.
What bruises?
Furman. Up under the hair, there were two bruises.
But why didn't you tell me?
I am telling you, Scott. You weren't here when I made my examination.
You were off chasing some stick-up hoodlums.
This is the first time I've seen you since then.
But why didn't you spill the stuff about Furman's bruises
when you were testifying at the inquest, Ben?
I'm a friend of yours.
Do I want to put you in a spot where people say you drove this fellow to suicide
by third-degreeing him too rough?
Oh, shucks, Doc. You're nuts.
How bad was Furman's head?
Well, that didn't kill him, if that's what you mean.
There's nothing the matter with this, Scott.
Just a couple of bruises that nobody would notice unless they parted the hair.
It killed him just the same.
You and your friendship that...
Hello.
Yeah, Fritz, a couple of ladies?
Who are they?
Oh, okay, I'll wait.
I've got to run along now, Scott.
Okay, I'll see you later.
Right.
It's Fritz at the undertaking parlor.
A couple of ladies want to see Furman's body. He's going to ask why.
That's what I was going to tell you, Scott.
When I was over there, I saw...
Hello, hello.
Oh, are you one of the ladies who wants to see...
your Furman's wife, Mrs. Furman, hmm?
Oh, then by all means, Miss Furman.
Only when you're through over there, I want you to come over to my office.
I've got some things I want to ask you.
Right.
Well, what do you know about that Furman's wife?
That's what I've been trying to tell you. I saw him.
And one of them's Hotchaw Randall, a babe with a record as long as your arm.
She's one of that mob you had me working on in New York last summer.
Does she know you?
Sure, but not by my right name.
She thinks I'm a Detroit rum runner.
No, no, I mean, does she recognize you just now?
I don't think she saw me. Anyway, she didn't give me a tumble.
Okay, Wally, stick around a while, but stay out of sight.
Maybe I'll be bringing these dolls back with me.
Whatever you say, Chief.
Come in.
Chief Anderson?
That's right. Mrs. Furman?
Yes. This is my friend, Mrs. Crowder.
Thought your name was Randall.
What do you care, Chief? I'm not hurting your town any.
Okay. Now, before anybody says anything, I want to tell you something.
Furman didn't commit suicide. He was murdered.
Murdered? My husband murdered?
We got alibis. We were in New York. We can prove it.
You're likely to get a chance.
How'd your people happen to come down here?
Murdered.
Who's got a better right to come down here?
She was still his wife, wasn't she?
She's got a right to look out for her own interest, hasn't she?
Yeah, that reminds me of something.
Excuse me just a second. I gotta make a phone call in the next room.
Oh, murder totally.
Hey, Hamill.
Yeah, Chief?
I want you to have someone get hold of that lawyer, Wheelock,
before he leaves town and tell him I want to see him.
And is Wally around?
No, he's not here. He said you told him to keep out of sight.
I'll find him for you, though.
Right. Tell Wally I want him to go to New York tonight.
Send Mason home to get some sleep. He'll have to take over Wally's night trick.
Okay.
Feeling better, honey, now?
Mr. Anderson, do you think I had...
that I had anything to do with Lester's... with his death?
I don't know, Mrs. Freeman. I know he was killed.
I also know he left something like half a million.
Dollars?
Dollars.
All right, Chief. Now, now, don't be a clown.
The kid here didn't have a thing to do with whatever you think happened.
No?
No, no.
We read about Lester Freeman committing suicide in yesterday morning's paper.
And about there being something funny about it.
And I persuaded her she ought to come down to Dearwood and that's all...
I wouldn't have done anything to hurt Lester.
I left him because I wanted to leave him,
but I wouldn't have done anything to him for money or anything else.
If I'd wanted money from him, all I'd had to do would have been to just ask him for it.
That's all.
Well, he used to put ads in the paper telling me if I wanted anything to let him know,
but I never did.
You can ask his lawyer, Mr. Wheelock.
Anybody who knew anything about it can tell you that.
Yeah, that's the truth, Chief.
For years I've been telling Ethel she was a chump not to tap him,
but she never would.
I had a hard enough time getting her to come for her share
now that he's dead and got nobody else to leave it to.
I wouldn't have hurt him.
Why did you leave him then?
Well, after the baby died, I just...
Excuse me.
Oh, yeah, Hamill.
You gave Wally the message.
Yeah, I want him to go to New York tonight.
Okay, where is he, home?
He is home.
Okay, thanks.
This circular is what got your husband on the jug, Mr. Furman.
Did you ever see that picture before?
No, I...
Why, that...
It can't be.
It's a snapshot I have.
It's an enlargement of it.
Who else has one?
Nobody that I know of.
I don't think anybody else could have one.
Have you still got yours?
Yes, I...
I don't remember whether I've seen it recently.
It's with some old papers and things, but I must have it.
Oh, Mrs. Furman, it's stuff like this that's got to be checked up.
Neither one of us can dodge it.
Now, there's two ways we can play.
Yes.
I can hold you here on suspicion
till I've had time to check things up,
or I can send one of my men back to New York with you for the checkup.
I'm willing to do that if you'll speed things up
by helping them all you can.
And if you'll promise me, you won't try any tricks.
I promise. I'm as anxious as you are to track this down.
All right, all right. How'd you come down?
We drove. That's my car, the big green one across the street.
Fine. Then my man can ride back with you.
But no funny business.
Funny shumny. What do you expect of...
Huh? Oh, send him in.
Hello, Mr. Wheelock. Is this really Mrs. Furman?
Yes, that's really her, all right. How do you do?
Fine. You wait here, Wheelock. I'll be back in a little while.
Come on, girls.
Where are we going?
We're going to solve a murder, sister.
Who lives here?
Wally Shane, my assistant.
He's the man who's going to drive you to New York tonight.
All right. Here we are.
Wally?
Who is it?
Scott Wally.
Oh, come in.
Ladies first.
Harry. Harry!
Hello, Ethel.
You two know each other, huh?
Well, shucks. We just sort of...
Don't reach for that gun, Wally.
I've got you covered.
I guess you win, Scott.
I guess I do.
Why didn't you get out of town, Wally?
No, it's Harry.
You must have known when you saw these two women.
I did.
But when Hamill phoned and said you were going to send me to New York,
I figured I was getting a break.
You fooled me plenty on that one, Scott.
Yeah.
You going to come along nice and quiet, Wally?
Oh, shucks. Why not?
Okay. And I'm afraid I've got to say it.
Well, Lashane, I arrest you for the murder of Lester Fuhrman.
You comfortable in here, Wally?
Can't complain. For a cell.
Say, Scott.
Hmm?
You didn't just stumble on all this, did you?
No.
Fuhrman had to be murdered by a copper.
Only a copper with no reward circulates well enough to make a good job of forging one.
Only a copper, one of my coppers, would be able to walk into Fuhrman's cell,
bang him across the head and string him up.
When you told me you knew the Randall woman,
well, there it was.
What got you like this, Wally?
Oh, shucks.
What gets most saps into jams.
A yen for easy dough.
I'm in New York, see, Scott, working on that debt and job for you.
Then I run into this Ethel Fuhrman, and she goes for me like a houseifier.
Like her, too, so that's dandy.
But one night she tells me about how much dough her husband's got
and how it would all come to her if...
Well, I got to thinking.
Thinking what?
I think she's nuts enough about me to marry me.
I still think she'd marry me if she didn't know I killed him.
So, anyway, I did it.
I swiped that snapshot.
I sent those circlers out to a lot of places, you know,
not wanting to point too much to this one.
And when I was ready, I phoned Fuhrman and I told him to come to the Dearwood Hotel that night
and sometime before the next night he'd hear from his wife Ethel.
I knew he'd fall for any trap that was baited with her.
Oh, shucks.
I guess I'm not as sharp as I thought I was.
Maybe you are, Wally, but that doesn't always help.
Old man Camsley, as Ben's father used to have a saying,
to a sharp knife comes a tough stake.
I'm...I'm sorry you did it, Wally.
I always liked you.
I know you did.
I was counting on that, too, Scott, but...
Oh, shucks.
And so closes Two Sharp Knives,
in which Roma wines have brought you John Payne and Frank McHugh
as stars of tonight's study in...
Suspense.
Suspense is produced, edited and directed by William Spear.
Before our stars return to the microphone,
let me say a word for Roma Wines, the sponsor of Suspense.
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This is John Payne.
I'm sure I speak for Mr. McHugh too in saying how delighted
we have been to be invited to appear on Suspense.
Before Mr. McHugh brings you a message from our government,
I would like to pass along to you the billboard
for next Thursday's half hour of Suspense.
It will star that polished and sinister actor, Clifton Webb,
in a radio play based on John Dickson's car novel,
John Dickson Car's novel, The Burning Court.
Okay, Frank, take over.
The Battle of the Pacific has moved into high gear.
Our fighting men are doing more than their share
in this big second half of our fight for victory.
The current seventh war loan drive is an opportunity
for you to do your share.
The money you invest in war bonds now will increase in value.
We'll be your ready cash for tomorrow.
Buy those extra war bonds today.
John Payne will soon be seen in the 20th Century Fox
Technicolor production, The Dali Sisters.
Frank McHugh can soon be seen in State Fair
from the same studio.
Next Thursday, same time, Mr. Clifton Webb
will be your star of Suspense.
Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A.
Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.