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Roma Wines presents Suspense.
Tonight, Roma Wines bring you the MGM star, Miss Agnes Moorhead, in Postmortem, 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.
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Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Agnes Moorhead,
in a remarkable tale of Suspense.
Up with the buttercups, come on, get up, get up, here comes the sun.
Good morning darling.
Oh Stephen, you goose.
Ah, your coffee, madame.
Oh my stars and crown, I wish you wouldn't insist on my having coffee in bed.
Stephen, it makes me feel like a loose character, just like the old days when I was in the theater.
Coffee in bed, then a long soak in the tub under the sun lamp.
That's old Doc Archer's prescription for those aches and pains of yours.
There aren't any aches and pains for weeks now.
There, that proves it.
You can't afford to stop the treatment now.
Besides, you look beautiful with a sun tan.
Well, if that's the case.
Have some coffee with me?
No, I'm sorry, it's nine o'clock.
Well, that train doesn't leave until nine twenty-two.
Ah, but the early bird gets the seat, my precious.
I'll just start the water running and set up the lamp for you.
Oh, you needn't go to all that bother.
How do you like your water this morning?
Warm, lukewarm, hot?
Warm.
I'm setting the lamp for ten minutes.
Oh.
Mind you don't take too much now.
Oh, I do, all right, all right.
Now, if you get in the bath, just as you hear me close the front door, you'll get just the
right amount of sunshine.
Oh really, Stephen?
Now, where's my goodbye kiss?
Stephen, I...
Goodbye.
Stephen, I...
Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Goodbye.
Up with the buttercups.
Come on.
Get up, get up.
Here comes the...
Oh, I feel so good to get into a nice little cab.
What would you say to me?
Listen to me, right now, ha-ha-ha.
Oh my goodness.
Talk to her.
Oh...
Oh, here comes the train!
I'll see what you've done.
Gosh, I hope it didn't break.
These things are expensive.
Hey, you didn't have it turned on.
I turned it on so you could hear me.
That timer on it makes so much noise.
Well, no harm done, I guess.
Well, I've got everything now.
Sorry to disturb you, darling.
You better hurry.
You will miss that train.
Bye-bye, darling.
Be good.
Go on.
Get on it.
Go on.
Hey, bud, oh, if I had the wings of an angel, then who will do the trick?
Oh, now what?
All right, all right.
I'm coming.
Damn it.
Oh, well, you don't have to burn up the battery.
Oh, get my room.
Oh.
Mrs. Meade?
Oh, I don't want any today.
What?
What was that you called me?
Are you Mrs. Josephine Meade?
Well, I was.
My name is Archer.
Now I've remarried.
But what was I?
This is the place, fellas.
Hold everything.
We're coming.
Well, who are those men?
Who, you?
Oh, does she know yet?
Oh, hold that, will you, Mrs. Meade?
All right, fine.
Now let's try another one inside.
Maybe in the kitchen.
Yes.
What were you doing?
Fixing breakfast for your husband?
Now put the camera away.
Can't you see she doesn't know yet?
She don't know yet.
Haven't you been listening to the radio, Mrs. Meade?
Oh, no.
A tube's burned out.
Why?
She really don't know yet.
Well, for heaven's sake, will you tell me what it is?
Why, are you going to ask us in?
Well, I shouldn't.
Why, that's very kind of you.
Oh, well, I...
Put the camera over there, Sam.
Well, I...
Now, your husband, ma'am, it would be kind of...
My husband, where he just left the house.
Has something happened to him?
No, no.
We got news for you, Mrs. Meade.
I wish you'd stop calling me Mrs. Meade.
My name is Archer now.
I extend that to this man here.
Wesket's my name.
Paul Wesket.
I'm from the Evening Bulletin.
Oh, you're a newspaper man.
I'm a star-and-ground.
I had an interview by the press since I opened in Bright Eyes in New Haven just 20 years
ago.
You were an actress.
Well, I gave up my career after I married Mr. Meade.
I often thought I might go back to the theater, but things didn't work out that way.
Yeah, well, that's very interesting, Mrs. Archer, but about the news, we were going to tell
you.
Can't you guess?
Please let me...
Can't you guess?
No, and I wish we'd tell...
Well, I'll give you a hint.
This is the day the derby is run off.
Derby?
Can't you guess why we're here?
Your horses come in first.
Oh, you must have the wrong party.
I don't own any horse.
Oh, look.
Oh, no, no, no.
Don't you understand?
The news just came over the ticker from London.
You're one of the three Americans to hold a ticket on Ravenal and the sweepstakes.
Oh, there must be some mistake.
Don't you understand?
You've won $150,000.
$150...
Oh, my star-and-ground.
What's the matter?
Don't that make you happy?
Boy, what a catch.
Housewife wins sweepstakes must be a mistake, she said.
Oh, no, no, there really must be some mistake.
Somewhere, it must be somebody else with the same name.
You see, I haven't any ticket on...
I haven't any tickets at all.
Well, sure, you must have.
Where'd they get your name and address from, otherwise?
They don't just make them up out of thin air.
What are you trying to do?
Oh, now, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
You say the winning ticket is in the name of me?
Yes, Mrs. Josephine Meade.
You said that was your name.
Well, then it must have been my late husband who bought the ticket.
You see, the house is in my name,
and I stayed on here after I lost Harry
and after my marriage to Mr. Archer.
Oh, yeah, then, that's right.
Meade bought the sweepstakes ticket in your name.
Anyway, you're the winner.
But I don't even have the ticket.
You don't have it?
You mean it's lost?
Well, I never even knew he bought one till now.
He never said a word to me about it.
Gee, you better look around good and see if you can find it.
Sure, you can't collect the money without it.
Have you any of your late husband's effects around the house, Mrs. Archer?
No, they've all been exposed to.
But I went through everything very carefully.
If there had been anything there,
even sewn into the lining of one of his suits, I'd have found it.
I think, Mrs. Archer, if your late husband never told you about it,
he must have been intending to surprise you in case he'd won anything.
So he would have put it somewhere where you wouldn't be likely to find it, wouldn't he?
Well, he would in any case.
I didn't approve of his gambling.
All right, Mrs. Archer, now, think hard.
Wasn't there a suit he didn't wear very much,
one you might not have sent out since the ticket was bought,
put away in mothballs, maybe?
Well, there was his dark blue.
Uh-huh, dark blue.
He'd only worn that once or twice.
I mean, I never looked there.
You see, I sent all his other clothes to the Russian War Relief,
but the dark blue was in such good condition, it's practically new, Mr. Westlock.
Oh, that's where that ticket is.
I'll bet any amount it's in that dark blue suit.
Let's have a look right now.
Well, I'm afraid that's not possible.
Not possible.
Oh, really, Mrs. Archer?
Because, uh, because that's the suit Mr. Meade was buried in.
For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you as star Agnes Moorhead in Post-Mortem,
a radio play by Robert Talman from the story by Cornell Woolrich.
And now, for 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 soundstage,
Agnes Moorhead as Josie Archer with Joseph Kearns as Stephen in Postmortem,
a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
[♪Music playing in background.
So you see Stephen, that's the only place it can be.
It's there in the casket with him.
What makes you so certain of that?
Well, the one and only time he wore that suit before his death was one Saturday afternoon
when he went out for a stroll and stopped in at a pool room.
What more likely place than that for him to have bought a sweepstakes ticket?
Well, if it's buried with him, we might as well kiss it goodbye.
But $150,000, Stephen!
You haven't any right to disturb a grave just on a hunch like that.
Harry might have lost the ticket.
Oh, I tell you, I knew Harry Meade.
He'd no more lose a thing like that, and then, well, he just wouldn't, that's all.
If it's there, it'll just have to stay there.
But, hi Stephen, all we have to do is get a court order.
I tell you, I won't stand for it. It's sacrilege.
If we've got to disturb the dead, we'll just have to let the money go.
But it wouldn't be like desecrating a grave.
Harry would have wanted us to have that money.
After all, you are his best friend.
Josie, as your husband, I forbid you to disturb that man's remains.
But Stephen, really, I...
Now forget that there ever was such a sweepstakes ticket. Is that understood?
All right, Stephen, whatever you say.
Yes, and if that snooping news paper man comes back here, you're not to let him in this house.
Yes, Stephen.
Is that a promise now?
Yes, Stephen, it's a promise.
Well, I've got to go now. I'll miss my train.
We'll talk about this some more tonight when I get home.
All right, dear.
Oh, don't forget to take your sun lamp treatment.
No, I won't. Bye now.
Bye, dear.
Hello? Oh, Mr. Westcott.
Oh, no, no, I have not reconsidered. I definitely have not reconsidered.
Stephen and I have talked it over, and he's deeply shocked, and so am I.
I must confess that the very suggestion of disinterring poor Harry,
you'll simply have to go elsewhere for your front page scoop,
because I am absolutely adamant on this point,
and no amount of persuasion will make me change my mind.
I shouldn't be doing this. I knew it. I shouldn't be doing this.
All right, all right.
I shouldn't be doing this. I know it. I know it.
All right, you wait here, Mrs. Archer.
I shouldn't be doing this. I know I shouldn't be doing this.
Now, don't take it like that, Mrs. Archer.
We have a court order all properly signed and perfectly legal.
I shouldn't have let you talk me into this. I'm just weak.
That's all. I'm just weak. Yes.
Stephen is sure to suspect something.
That 150 grand ought to go a long way toward making him forgive you.
Will it take long?
No, the workman is supposed to have it all ready.
All that has to be done now is...
Well, it won't take long.
Would you rather wait in the caretaker's house?
No, no, no. I'll come along with you.
All right.
Hello there.
You Mr. Wescott? Yep.
Well, there it is, Mr. Wescott.
We hoisted it up, but we didn't open it yet.
All right, here's the authorization.
Pry the lid off of there and make it snappy, will you?
All right. Hey, you take that hand over there, Jack.
Okay.
What's the matter?
Is it stuck or what?
Take it easy, lady, will you?
It's coming.
Oh, no.
There you are, mister. It's all yours.
All right. Hold this light for me, will you?
Keep it off the face.
What are you doing now? Frisking the corpse.
And don't ask me why.
Damn me. How dare you.
Keep the light off his face, will you?
Sensitive type.
Okay. I got what I came for.
Please get that light off his face.
Okay, mister. Okay.
All right, if you're all finished, we'll tuck him in again.
Wait a minute.
Put the light back on him. On his face.
Now on his face.
Hey, what's the big idea?
Oh, Harry.
Okay, you can toss that light in.
Listen, you guys.
Leave this just as it is.
Stick right here until you hear from me.
How come? What's the matter, mister Wesker?
I'm not sure yet, but I just got a hunch the D.A.
is going to want an autopsy on this body.
My stars and crowns.
Up with the buttercups,
here comes the sun.
Come in.
Hey, what's this?
Up and dressed already?
Well, I bought some things in town yesterday afternoon.
The delivery man usually comes around 10 o'clock,
so I thought I'd put off my sun lamp and bath until then.
Oh.
You will take your treatment then, promise me?
Oh, yes. All right, darling.
But really, you worry too much about me.
Oh, you must have come in awfully late last night.
Did you see the show through twice?
Stephen, I...
I didn't go to a picture last night.
Hmm?
I did what you told me not to.
What are you talking about?
Here it is, Stephen. $150,000.
You fool, you stupid little fool!
Stephen, let go of my shoulder. You're hurting me.
Who is it with you? Who saw it beside you?
Nobody, Stephen.
I got the permit and took it out there
and showed it to the men and it's the edge of the ground
and he got a couple of workmen.
Yes, go on, go on.
Well, one of them got it.
I put it in the vest pocket and then
they put the lid on again
and lowered it and covered it up.
You sure everything was put back again just the way it was?
Oh, yes, Stephen, of course.
Well, I'd hate to think
he wasn't put back properly.
Then you aren't angry with me?
Well, I guess I acted pretty silly.
I guess I acted pretty silly about it.
I thought...
Oh, I don't know what I thought.
Stephen!
Stephen, you didn't suspect me
of having anything to do with...
with Harry dying so suddenly.
Oh, of course not.
What an idea.
Look, you better give me that ticket for safekeeping.
I'll put it in the safe down at the office
till you're ready to turn it in.
That's a wonderful idea, Stephen.
It makes me nervous having it around the house.
It's worth $150,000, Stephen, just to think of it.
Yes.
Harry's been pretty good to us, hasn't he?
Oh, don't say things like that, Stephen.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Oh, good Lord, it's nearly 10 o'clock.
I've missed my train.
Well, if you hurry, you can catch at 10.15.
Yes. You won't forget your lamp.
No, I'll start at the 10.15 shop, I promise.
Sorry to be such a dutch uncle, darling, but
I do worry about you.
Well, you're wonderful to me, Stephen.
Goodbye, darling.
Goodbye.
Come in quickly.
He just this minute left the house.
Suppose he took the ticket with him?
How did you know?
I know a lot of things. For instance?
The DA's ordered that autopsy on the body of your late husband.
Oh, my stars and crown.
I think they'll find out he was murdered.
No.
Oh, no.
Stephen Archer is an insurance agent, isn't he?
Yes, but I...
And he insured your late husband heavily in your favor just before his death.
Oh, well, that doesn't prove anything.
Oh, maybe not.
He's pretty good to you, isn't he?
Takes you to Florida every winter, stuff like that.
I should say not.
How did you get such an idea?
That coat of tan you've got?
Oh, that's from the sun lamp.
I had a slight cold a while back, and now Stephen
insists that I use the sun lamp for 10 minutes every morning
while I'm in the bath.
While you're in the bath?
Yes, he says it's more beneficial that way.
It's a terrible nuisance, of course.
The bathroom's quite small, and the lab is always toppling over
and falling on top of me.
How's that?
Well, his wake up, Stephen has left the house in the morning to take my bath,
and then he almost always forgets something at the last minute
and comes dashing back and blundering into the bathroom, and over he goes.
What sort of things does he forget?
Oh, one day
there's this clean handkerchief
and the next some papers or other things that he needs
or his thumb pen.
Does he keep all those things in the bathroom?
No, no, but he can never find where they are, so he comes
barging into the bathroom to ask me, and then over goes the lab.
You don't say.
I suppose you're
insured pretty heavily in his favor now.
Well, it will naturally
be in the business.
Yes, naturally.
Mr. Reskowitz, you don't say that.
I don't think anything yet.
Oh dear, what ever shall I do?
I tell you what, there's a way to find out
if you'll cooperate with me.
With your acting experience, this ought to be easy for you.
Now this is what I'd like to...
Ah, Stephen, Stephen,
this is Mr. Westcott. He's
with the bulletin.
Oh, yes, what can we do for you, Mr. Westcott?
I stopped in the district attorney's office on my way here,
Mr. Archer. They've just completed an autopsy
on the body of Harry Meade.
It wasn't my idea, Stephen. Believe me, it wasn't.
You understand, of course, I'm not with the police.
I'm in this for a news story.
Or anything else that might come my way.
I see. I might be able to help you people
if you'll tell me the truth.
What was the result of the autopsy?
The report isn't made out yet, but I think they'll find
he died of a blow over the head.
Sit down, Mr. Westcott.
I might as well tell you everything.
Josie, you don't have to tell this man anything.
Let me do this in my own way.
You see, Mr. Westcott,
it was all my doing.
Stephen was in no way to blame for what happened.
He used to come over in the evenings
to see Harry, not me.
But the more I saw him,
the stronger the feeling grew on my part.
Harry was
heavily insured in my favor.
Oh, Josie.
He never took me seriously. He always scoffed at my love
for the theater.
And I couldn't help thinking how opportune
it would be if anything
took him away from me.
Do I make myself clear, Mr. Westcott?
Gone.
Well, the night Harry
died, he had gone
out in the back of the house,
you see, to get some air.
I was doing the dishes and it came over me all of a sudden
what I had to do.
So I dried my hands and went
upstairs and got out an old
flat iron I no longer use.
And I came downstairs with it
under my apron and went out to where Harry
was.
Well, I stood there talking with him for a
moment. And I waited till
he turned his back to me.
And then I...I
did it. You did what?
Well, I...
I swung the flat iron by its handle
squarely at the back of his head.
He...he didn't die right
away, but he was unconscious and
I could see it was all over.
He had a weak heart, you know.
And, well, afterwards
I...I took the iron over in the vacant
lot and buried it. And the rest
happened as I told you. Stephen came
around and we carried
him into the house. You mean you didn't
notice the wound. Didn't it bleed?
Well, it did a little.
But I washed it off.
And then I
took some pinkish face enamel I had left
over from the days when I was an actress and I
plastered that over the wound
and even powdered it
so it'd be less noticeable.
I made a good job of it because
after all, I do know something about
those things, you know,
makeup. So
that's why the doctor never noticed it
when he examined Harry's body.
Josie, I...
I can't believe it. Forgive me,
Mr. Wescott, but this is a terrible, terrible
shock to me. Well, now you know everything.
I suppose you may as well drive me
to police headquarters.
Why should I? You mean
you aren't going to turn me in? That
dent in his head could have been made by the men
who exhumed the body.
You and I are the only witnesses to that,
Mrs. Archer. But, yeah, but look here,
can't they tell me? In most cases, in this case,
the body happens to be in a remarkably fine
state of preservation.
Besides, if I do you
a favor, maybe you'll cut me
in for a little of that sweepstakes ticket.
Anything?
Anything you like?
Good.
I'll come back tomorrow and we'll talk it over.
Good night. Good night, Mr.
Wescott. And thanks.
Thanks from the bottom of our hearts.
Good night, Mrs. Archer.
Good night.
Well, my dear. Stephen.
I've got to do a little thinking, Josie.
This, uh, this changes
things considerably. It won't make any difference between us,
will it, Stephen? I did it for
us so we could be together.
You of all people, and going
out there and then looking at his body. But he was so
well preserved, Stephen, he just looked as if he was
sleeping.
Isn't that peculiar? What is?
Well, that he was looking so well.
After all, it's been
some time. It's just like
in the Emerald Snuff Box. What?
The Emerald Snuff Box, you remember, I played it for
thirty-three weeks at the Court Theatre opposite
Henry Dixie. That was how they knew
that it was poison, because the way
the body looked after all that time.
Poison?
Well, those bungling police doctors will never
find it out. We can shut up
that pool of a reporter with a sweepstakes ticket.
That was a windfall anyway. We'll
never miss it. But Stephen, we can't count on things
turning out the way we want them to.
I made that confession just to give us
a little time. We could take a plane in the morning
and be in South America in a few hours. Oh, no, that'd
be very foolish. No, my dear,
our best strategy is just to go on as
we always have. I'll take the train into the office,
you'll take your bath and sun lamp, and
we'll be the same loving couple
as we always have been.
Josie!
I'm up here, Stephen, in the bath.
Demi, have you got any idea where my iron pills are?
I went off without them. Well, they're on the sideboard
in the dining room. You know perfectly well.
What's that? I said they're on the sideboard.
I can't hear you, dear. Mind if I open the door
just a bit? No, Stephen, the sun lamp's right in front
of the door. When I move it. That you say?
I said don't open the door. The lamp,
Stephen.
Oh, Stephen! No, Stephen!
No!
Josie.
Josie!
Well, that's that.
Now who the devil?
All right, I'm coming.
Mr. Archer? Yes?
My name is Madison, Bureau of Detectives.
Oh, yes, Inspector, come in. This is
most opportune. You're coming just in time.
I was just about to telephone the police.
Oh? The most terrible thing has happened.
My poor wife. Your wife?
She was in the bath taking her sun lamp treatment.
Like a blundering fool, I opened the door and the lamp
fell over into the tub. I ran downstairs to cut off
the house current, but before I got back, she must...
Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ran all the way
downstairs to cut off the house current. Why didn't
you just pull out the plug? I was panicky.
I got confused. There was a dreadful glare of light,
sparks flying all over the place. I was half blinded.
Where's she now? Oh, she's still in there.
I was trying to get up my nerve to go in
when the doorbell rang. I couldn't
bear to see her like that, Inspector.
Electrocuted. It's too horrible.
Well, we'll go up there and have a look.
Probably too late, though. Yes, Inspector,
I'm afraid it is too late, but as you say,
we must do all we can. Yeah.
Well, Miss Darcher, this certainly happened
at an opportune time, as you say.
Yes. A warrant has just been
sworn out for your wife's arrest
for the murder of her first husband, Harry Meade.
This reporter here from the bulletin
said he got a confession out of her. Hello.
Oh, poor Josie.
Poor, poor Josie.
Oh, perhaps it's just as well
it happened this way. Is it, Stephen?
Is it just as well? Josie!
Well, Mrs. Darcher, congratulations.
You carried it off with flying colors.
What do you mean, carried it off?
Five stars and crown, Stephen. I wasn't even
in the tub. I just stood behind the door
and screamed when the lamp went out.
My Josie, you ought to be ashamed
of yourself giving me a fright like that.
It's no good you're pretending any longer, Stephen.
Mr. Westcott was absolutely right.
You're nothing but a
common murderer.
Josie! Surely you
don't believe that I... That is what my
confession was for, you goose,
to trap you. They know all
about how you killed poor Harry.
Well, you got the poison and everything.
Don't you, Inspector? That's right, Mrs. Darcher.
Why, you're worse than Sheldon Lewis was in
the iron claw. You would stoop to anything.
Ah, stars and crown when I
think. What might have happened if Harry
hadn't had on his new blue surge when he bought
that sweet steak ticket? Well, officer,
do your duty.
Josie.
Some little Josie.
Well, I guess this about ties it.
Come on, Archer, let's go. Up on your feet.
Yes, Stephen. Up with
the buttercup.
Suspense!
Presented by Roma Wines,
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of Post Mortem, tonight's Suspense Play,
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This is Agnes Moorhead.
It is always like coming home again to do
suspense. You know, Vincent Price
came out to Metragolan Mayor the other day
to see a private showing of the Green Years
of Listening. And afterwards he told me
all about next Thursday's Suspense show
on which he's going to be the star.
Be sure and listen in because it sounds
wonderful. Next Thursday,
same time, Roma Wines will bring you Vincent
Price as star of
Suspense, radio's outstanding
theater of thrills.
Produced by
William Spear for the Roma Wine Company
of Fresno, California.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.