Roma wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Roma wines present Suspense.
Tonight, Roma wines bring you the MGM star, Miss Marsha Hunt, as star of Pink Camellias,
a Suspense play produced, edited and directed for Roma wines by William Spear.
Suspense, radio's outstanding theater of thrills, 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 Miss Marsha Hunt as Martha in Pink Camellias.
A remarkable tale of Suspense.
It's not often a woman can look back and see the events of her life like tiny, confused pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Meeting, finally and neatly, to form one picture.
I can do that tonight. I can see so clearly and I must make you see too.
If only I have time, if only I have enough moments left.
The years I spent with Aunt Abby were long and dull.
She was an invalid, her heart was bad, so she lay in her bed day after day, making the most of it.
Ordering and complaining. Well, I was an orphan. Help us, so what could I do?
Aunt Abby took me in and I worked for my keep. Worked hard.
It was I who kept the house running. I who went into the village two miles away to buy the cakes and candy she grew fat on.
It was I who sat by her bed and read the sickening love stories to her.
I bore the brunt of her frenzy at being old and ill and unwanted by men.
And it made her happy to see me grow more afraid and less attractive.
Then, about a year ago, one afternoon when we were having tea.
Martha, these aren't the cakes I like. Really, you are stupid.
It was the little chocolate ones I wanted, the ones with the center scooped out and the frosting inside.
They didn't have any, Aunt Abby. I asked for them.
If they can't do better than this, we'll change to another pastry shop. Caramelizing.
Shall I begin reading now, Aunt Abby?
I don't think much of this candy either. Oh, here's the piece I like at last.
Read? Oh, no, Martha, not now. I have some news for you.
News?
Yes. We're going to have a guest. A young man. Does that excite you?
Oh, Aunt Abby.
Oh, Martha, you are a cold fish.
Well, as a matter of fact, he's a relative of yours.
A very distant one and not really a blood relative at all.
He's my second husband's sister's son.
And, let's see, what does that make him to you?
Why, I suppose...
Oh, never mind figuring it out. You are so literal.
When is he coming?
Just a minute. I'll look in his letter again.
Let's see now. Oh, yes, I thought so. It's the day after tomorrow he'll be here.
Shall I tell John to see that there's a room ready for him?
Yes, do. Oh, dear. This silly boy, Neil.
He says he and my second husband talked about me all the time.
I guess poor Walter never did get over me.
How old is he, Neil?
35ish, I'd say. He was about 20 the last time I saw him. Too handsome to believe.
But don't you go getting ideas about him, Miss.
Whether he's handsome or not, I don't want you making a fool of yourself.
Anyway, Martha, you're just not the type of woman he'd look at twice.
She went into detail.
She compared me to herself and told me no man who had known her had ever forgotten her.
And I looked at her, lying there, fat and old, with a fleck of chocolate on her chin.
Neil came two days later.
I watched him make over Aunt Abby.
I watched him hold her hand too long and smile too sweetly at her.
And I knew from the first moment that Neil Garson was weak and without a shred of principle.
I knew he wanted something from Aunt Abby and that he would flatter her and fawn on her until he got what he wanted.
But I also knew that for the first time in my life I was in love.
As foolishly in love as a heroine and one of the cheap love stories I had to read aloud.
Well, that'll do for today. I do wish, Martha, that you could learn to read with some expression.
I'm sorry, Aunt Abby. I'm no actress.
You're the dullest girl.
I think she does very well, Abby, and I don't think she's dull.
Of course she is.
No, I think she has great depths, unexpected depths.
You're talking like a fool, Neil.
Do you want me to do anything else for you, Aunt Abby?
No, you can leave now. You do get on my nerves sometimes.
Oh, just a minute, Martha. Why is it you always wear your hair pulled back so tightly?
My hair?
It would look wonderful falling to your shoulders. It's a beautiful shade of red, you know.
Like a mother's, isn't it, Abby?
Neil.
My mother? How do you know anything about my mother? Why, even I never...
Abby told me about her. Showed me a picture, too.
But Aunt Abby, you never showed me a picture of her. Where is it?
Back in the trunk where it belongs.
Now, Neil, my dear, would you please leave us alone? I have something to discuss with Martha.
But please, I'd like to see it.
Certainly, Abby.
I've never seen...
Now, Missy, I have something to tell you that I don't expect you to like.
Yes?
You know that Neil is a writer?
No, I didn't know.
His things are very artistic. He's read some to me.
Oh, but of course it's hard to make a living when you write things that most people are too stupid to appreciate.
Yes, I guess it would be.
Well, I've decided that he shall have his chance to do what he wants to do without having to worry about scrabbling for a living.
I've left him half my estate.
Only half?
Don't be sarcastic, Martha. There'll be plenty for you.
Of course there will. I don't need much. I'd have no way to spend a great deal of money.
I do believe you mean it. But you're right. You'll just go along the same way after I've gone. You'll certainly never marry.
No. No, I won't marry. Aunt Abby, my mother wasn't plain like I am. She was beautiful, wasn't she?
Why are you going to start that again?
But why won't you tell me about her?
Because she wasn't like us. She didn't fit into our family at all.
No, you're not like her, Martha. And you can get down on your knees and thank heaven that you're not.
It was after dinner that night, Neil asked me for the first time to walk in the garden with him.
I wasn't fool enough to believe that it was for any romantic reason, but I snatched at the chance to be alone with him.
Let's sit on that bench by the birch tree.
All right.
There. Nice night. Cigarette?
No, thank you.
Well, don't mind if I smoke.
Ah, this is a nice spot.
Yes.
Abby tells me you know about the will.
Yes.
How do you feel about it?
Well, I hadn't thought. There's enough left for me.
Is that all you want? Just enough?
What else would I want?
You could be beautiful, you know.
Oh, you're teasing me.
If only I had money, or if you had, or even better, if both of us had. I'd teach you how to get some fun out of life.
You would?
Would you like having me teach you, Martha?
Oh, I, I, there's no use talking about it. Neither of us has any money and probably won't have for years.
How bad is her heart, really?
As bad as it's been since I've known her. She could die any minute, or she could live for years.
Yes, I suppose she could.
Flowers are lovely out here. Garden is good.
Yes. Bennett's worked for Aunt Abby for years. He loves the place.
I was in the greenhouse the other day when Bennett was getting out some of that stuff to put around the rose bushes. Arsenic compound, it was.
That's why the roses are so perfect. Seems the poison kills all the worms.
Yes.
You ought to wear flowers, Martha. You'd be lovely with camellias in your hair.
I must get you some. Oh, but then that would be silly, wouldn't it, for me to go all the way into town to buy you flowers when the greenhouse is full of them.
But I'd like to see them in your hair.
Maybe, maybe I'll wear some someday, Neil.
You'll be lovely, Martha.
For suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you a star, Marsha Hunt, in Pink Camellias by Charmian McGurk.
Roma Wines presentation tonight in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Between the acts of suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.
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And now Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood sound stage, Marsha Hunt as Martha in Pink Camellias, a play well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I've never felt so alive as I was planning my first murder.
Neil noticed the change in me, the new confidence in myself. He was fascinated.
He was afraid of me and yet he had to be with me. He was weak, Neil was. He was too weak to do his own murder.
But I was strong enough.
About time you showed up. Sent for you a half hour ago.
What did you want, Ann Aggie?
For heaven's sake, take these roses and put them over on the other table. Oh, that's better. They were smothering me.
Bennett brought them in this morning. Really, we must get rid of him. He's so old, he depresses me.
I hinted to him this morning that it was time for him to go, but you'd better make a definite the end of month.
I like young people around me.
All right, Aunt Aggie.
And if it's not too much trouble, Miss, I wish you'd go into town this morning and get me some of my little cakes.
I intended to.
Well, I'm surprised to hear it. You've been mooning around here lately like a lovesick calf, never doing anything for me.
Yes, Aunt Aggie.
Any funny business and you can get out and get a job where you'll really have to work. I've made things too easy for you.
Yes, Aunt Aggie.
And when you go into town, try to get the cakes I like for once.
Oh yes, I'll be very careful to get them, Aunt Aggie. The little chocolate ones with the icing in the center.
The cakes she loved best. The icing in the little hole in the center was soft and chocolate brown.
The arsenic lightened it hardly at all, but then it took so little.
Hardly more than enough to kill one of the worms on the rose bushes.
I dressed carefully that day. I wore a dress that made my eyes green and brought out the red of my hair.
I have never looked so well.
Just before I got the tea tray lunch, I walked out to the greenhouse and picked two camellias of the faintest pink.
They looked lovely in my hair.
Well, where have you been?
Here's your tea, Aunt Aggie.
I've waited long enough. But you got so few cakes. Only enough for today.
Honestly, Martha, I have few enough pleasures in life. I should think you'd show me some consideration.
What's in that dish?
Strawberries.
Yes, Bennett sent them in for you. They're the first of the season.
He's trying to get around me so he can stay. Well, it'll do him no good. But put plenty of cream on them.
That's it. And a cake, Martha.
Here you are, Aunt Abby.
Where's Neil?
He's working. He'll be in later.
Is this all the strawberries?
Yes, but Bennett said there would be more in a few days if you want them. He has them set up in boxes in the greenhouse.
Just one more cake, Martha. That's it.
Why are you all dressed up?
I'm not.
It won't do you any good. You'll never get him.
You...
Martha.
I...
You see, Aunt Abby, you didn't run out of your cakes. There were plenty there. All you'll ever want.
There was no investigation into Aunt Abby's death. It was surprising, the doctor said, that she hadn't been carried off by a heart attack before.
There were no surprises in the will. She had left small bequests to the servants and the rest of the estate to be divided between Neil and me.
Very soon now we'd have our money. And I'd have Neil. I had a hold over him now, for the knowledge of murder shared is as strong a bond as love.
For a while, Neil was in the best of spirits. But gradually, as we waited for the money, he changed.
Few odd days in this house now go off my head. Nothing to do but sit around these gloomy rooms and read musty old books.
You're jumpy, Neil.
Well, what if I am? There are things that would make anyone jumpy.
I know.
You don't know. You like remembering. When that little smile comes in your face, I know you're remembering.
John's coming.
What do you want, John?
I've got tea, sir.
Well, put it down here.
Big pardon, Miss Martha.
Yes, John.
I thought I'd better speak to you about Bennett.
Bennett? What about him, John?
Well, he hasn't been himself, you might say, since your aunt died. I don't know the last time I saw him eat a mouthful of food. He just sits and stares into space. And today he's down on his back.
Really sick?
How starved, I'd say, Miss. And brooding about something.
Brooding?
I don't know what about, Miss. He doesn't talk.
Oh, I'll call the doctor. And I'll go out and see him myself. Thank you, John.
Yes, Miss. I'll tell him you're coming.
Bennett knows.
Shh!
Don't be a fool. Of course he doesn't know. No one saw me in the greenhouse.
He knows, I tell you!
I'll go and talk to him. Maybe I'll take him some hot soup.
You're kind, Martha. You're so kind. But he won't drink your soup. He knows.
I'm sorry. I can't get up, Miss. It was good of you to come.
The doctor will be in to see you tomorrow, Bennett.
But can't I do something for you now? Is there something you'd like to eat?
Oh, no, no, thank you, Miss. No, thank you.
Is something bothering you, Bennett? Would you like to tell me about it?
Your... your aunt was going to let me go. After all these years. She as good as told me I was through.
Oh, but she left you enough to live on.
She was going to take my flowers away. But she didn't manage it. She died before she could get rid of me.
Yes.
Yes. That... that poison works fast on bugs in the garden, don't it, Miss?
Yes, it does.
Did it work fast on her too, Miss?
Bennett!
It... it just came to me all at once. The stuff was out in plain sight there.
Bennett, you can take care of the flowers for as long as you live. I won't sell the house.
I am too tired, Miss Martha. But I feel better for talking to you.
You and I are the only ones that know. Oh, your aunt was a mean woman, Miss.
I didn't care much for her. She never paid any attention to how pretty the flowers was.
The only time she was ever nice to me was when I... I took her something I'd grown for her to eat.
Oh, don't feel bad about her, Miss. Her and the bugs... they should have been killed.
I sat up with Bennett all night until he died. He didn't speak of my aunt or the poison again, and I never knew how he had guessed.
Bennett's death did something strange to Neil. It made him really hate me.
I've been looking for you, Neil.
I wish I never had to see you again. What kind of poison did you use on old Bennett?
I've told you a thousand times I didn't kill him.
You make my skin crawl, Martha.
That's too bad, because you're going to have to be around me for the rest of your life.
I've been thinking, Martha.
Yes?
I'm getting out now.
You'd better wait until things are settled.
I've thought things out, Martha. I had nothing to do with Abby's death. There's no way they could prove I had.
They could prove it as well about you as about me, Neil.
I tell them you did it. I tell them just how you did it.
No, you're the logical one to suspect. You're the one who came here and made a hateful old woman decide to leave you a fortune.
If I'd been after the money, I could have killed her long ago and got twice as much.
Oh, no, Neil. You mustn't tell the police anything. They might hang you for it.
Not when they learned about your mother.
My mother?
Yes, that beautiful mother of yours. And you're like her, Martha. You're so like her, with your hair down around your shoulders and the pale pink camellias pinned in it.
That lovely mother who killed your father and herself. That beautiful, insane mother.
Even in the first moment of shock, I knew it was true.
Neil wasn't lying.
That was why I had never been told about my mother. That was why murder had seemed so right and easy for me to do.
Neil thought now he was the leader once again. I let him think it.
I pulled my hair tight at the back of my head and shrank back into the colorless woman who couldn't possibly be a threat.
Say, Martha?
Yes?
Come in here a moment, will you?
What is it, Neil?
I wish you'd ask around and find a good doctor for me to see. I'm having trouble with my eyes.
Just enough to make his eyes burn and smart. Just enough to make a little rash come out on his skin. Not enough yet to let him know he was dying.
The night came, though, when I decided to finish my work. Tonight, I planned a wonderful meal.
Squab and wild rice and strawberries from the greenhouse.
We had coffee in the drawing room. Neil took sugar in his. Neil took sugar that was loaded with death.
I drank my coffee black.
Another cup, Neil.
Thanks. I don't expect to sleep anyway, Martha.
Why don't you?
I'll be thinking about you. How beautiful you look. I'm glad you made yourself lovely for me.
I'm happy you think I'm lovely.
Are we friends again?
Of course.
I'm sorry I had to be so rough on you, but you weren't getting out of hand there, you know.
Maybe I was.
I just want you to know, Martha, that I've never felt about any woman the way I feel about you. If things had been different...
I thought I sickened you.
I was afraid of you, the way you were then. You were so cold.
I wasn't cold. I loved you very much.
And now?
I don't feel quite the same.
It's too bad. We would have been wonderful together. But you can understand how I feel, can't you? I mean, knowing...
Yes, I can understand. What's the matter?
The pain. Nothing.
Oh, dear.
What is it?
I knew I'd forget something.
Oh, what's that?
Flowers for my hair. Oh, well, there's some over here in this vase. I brought them in this afternoon.
Here. Do they look all right, Neil? I haven't a mirror.
Why, yes, they're...
But they're like the ones you...
They're camellias, my favorite flower. These are the last of the pink ones.
Pink camellias?
You look so strange, Neil. What is it?
You look like you did just before...
Before I killed Aunt Abby?
Yes.
I seem to look my best when I'm killing someone.
Mother.
But of course, Neil, you're dying. You've been dying for a long time.
But it hurts now, doesn't it? It burns, doesn't it?
Mother. Help.
I can never feel this way again, Neil. I can never love anyone the way I loved you.
And I can never hate the way I've come to hate you.
It makes it more exciting to really hate the person you kill.
I didn't hate Aunt Abby, you know.
Mother, no.
I despised her, that was all. I think you have to love someone before you can hate.
Aunt Abby was the first person I killed, so I was interested in watching her die.
Oh, but it wasn't like this.
And she didn't know that I was the one who brought death to her.
You know, though, don't you, Neil? You know.
Neil? Neil?
Oh, but it didn't take very long. It didn't take long at all.
I finished eating my strawberries, then I left him, crumpled there in the drawing room.
John would find him and call the police.
But it was while I was walking up the stairs to my room that I knew I wouldn't be able to tell them how I had worked things out.
I had intended to be here to tell them.
I thought I would have years of life in a quiet little room where I could remember everything.
They don't execute the insane, you know.
But as I was walking up the stairs, I knew I wouldn't have years.
I knew I only had a little time.
Bennett. Bennett and his strawberries.
Bennett killed Aunt Abby, too.
Just the way I would have done it myself.
I know how he felt as he took the little green stems off the strawberries and worked the poison in where the fruit was white against the deep pink.
He must have been happy as he worked.
I know how he felt because I'm like him, like that frail little man.
And I'm like my mother.
All people who kill are alike.
I should have known Bennett was like me.
If I had known I wouldn't be dying now.
I'd have all the years to remember in.
And Abby will be pleased at the way things happened.
And Neil, Neil will laugh.
Neil, Neil will laugh.
Suspense.
Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Before we hear again from Marsha Hunt, the star of Pink Camellias, tonight's Suspense play, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.
Before you enjoy Suspense again, New Year's Eve will have come and gone.
Make this the first New Year of peace in five long years, a new year to remember with the gay continental smartness of Roma California champagne.
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Serve Roma champagne with dinner or at any time.
And for a magnificent Roma champagne cocktail, try this simple recipe.
A cube of sugar, a dash of bitters, fill with chilled Roma champagne and you have a superb taste treat.
While you can get several bottles of Roma champagne tomorrow, no other sparkling wine but Roma champagne can give you such lavish luxury of taste at such low cost.
Insist on Roma, R-O-M-A, Roma champagne. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
This is Marsha Hunt. It has been a great pleasure to appear for the Suspense audience.
Next Thursday, Mr. Paul Henreid will appear as a man who waits for 20 years to commit a murder and then commits it in such a way that the law cannot touch him.
Sound like the perfect crime to you? Well, we'll all have to listen to find out.
In the meantime, a most happy new year to you from all of us here.
Marsha Hunt appeared to the courtesy of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, producers of They Were Expendable.
Next Thursday, same time, Roma Wines will bring you Mr. Paul Henreid as star of Suspense, radio's outstanding theatre of thrills.
Produced by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.