Now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A.
Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Roma Wines presents Suspense.
Tonight, Roma Wines bring you the David O. Sulznik star, Mr. Joseph Cotton,
in Crime Without Passion by Ben Hecht.
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.
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Yes, right now, a glass full would be very pleasant.
As Roma Wines bring you Joseph Cotton in a remarkable tale of...
Suspense.
She had phoned me to come over to her apartment. She wanted a showdown.
Well, I wanted a showdown too, and so I went over to her apartment.
And after all the time I've given you, why everybody thinks we're engaged to be married,
now you're trying to give me the go-by just like that.
The girls in this show, what a laugh they'll hand me.
Who do you think you are anyway?
Now, now, calm and watch your temper.
To think, to think I've been such a fool.
Earl Wilson and Winster, well, just everybody won't think give me the rash in their column.
And the rest of the bunch around the El Bravo.
When they get through with me, I'll probably lose my lead in the bird of paradise.
The nerve, treating me as if I was a nobody.
What do you get like that, taking up a girl's time?
She was a dancer at the El Bravo club.
She was number one on the line in the bird of paradise number in the floor show.
That was where I first noticed her.
I looked at her now with complete detachment.
I wondered what I had ever seen in this redheaded illiterate creature with her childish face and muscular legs.
How could I have ever considered her charming or desirable?
Probably for you.
More likely it's Eddie White calling you that dean of collegiate heroes.
Oh, yeah?
For me, by any mischance, just say I'm not here.
Hello? Hello?
No, he's not here. I don't know where he is. He's not here.
Your office. Always making me lie for you.
And as for that crack about Eddie White, you don't fool me, not for a minute.
Don't just stand there and say, mm-hmm, in that smutting way.
You know very well I haven't been seeing Eddie White. You're just using that for an excuse, aren't you?
Well, I...
Well, I know, aren't you?
You know all the answers.
Sure I know the answers to that. You're just saying that because you're trying to get rid of me.
Trying to put me on the escalator, that's what.
Well, have it your own way.
Have it your own way? Why, you...
Now cut that out.
You think that because you're a lawyer you can get away with this? I'll show you.
Hey, look out.
You're a photograph and it's swell expensive frame. I'll show you what I think of that too.
You're not going to make a sucker out of me, you stupid...
No, no, no. No, not my Derby.
Your Derby. Why, I'll smash your face.
Stay away from me now. Don't come near me. Oh, that hurt.
I need to have it out.
Why, you...
Why, you little vixen. How...
I hate you. I loathe you.
I hate all of your...
Don't you try to strike me. Don't you dare.
Lou.
Put down the candlestick, Lou.
Put it down, Lou.
Don't. Don't.
I was suddenly aware of a large brass candlestick in my hand.
And on the floor lay calm and brown.
I leaned over her.
Her skull cracked and blood was running from it.
Her eyes were closed. I listened.
No heartbeat.
I was suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that...
I had committed a murder.
I don't think there's a lawyer in New York with more thorough experience
in the handling of criminal cases. No.
I knew all the angles.
I knew the pitfalls of the defense in such a case as this.
I knew the psychology of the prosecution.
I had unexpectedly and inadvertently been cast in the role of a criminal.
Through my mind rushed all the prejudices and difficulties of such a case.
And in less than a minute, I had put myself on trial on a plea of self-defense,
reviewed the evidence, and found myself guilty.
It's a curious thing.
No doubt the public at large, the laymen, would expect that some unpublicized
and secret professional legal maneuver would be used by the great Lou Hendricks
in the present predicament.
It would seem to the reader of crime fiction and the listener to radio mystery drama
that some less hackneyed word than alibi would be the key word to my puzzle.
I am sorry, ladies and gentlemen.
I should dearly love to shake some diabolically ingenious trick out of my lawyer's sleeve.
But such would be a waste of time.
An alibi was what I needed.
I needed to establish simply and conclusively that I was not there
at the time of Carmen Brown's murder.
Time was the important element.
Yes, I must begin at once to establish that alibi.
For suspense, Roma wines are bringing you Joseph Cotton
in Crime Without Passion by Ben Hecht.
Roma wines presentation tonight in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Between the acts of suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma wines.
For suspense, Roma wines are bringing you Joseph Cotton
in Crime Without Passion by Ben Hecht.
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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Remember, more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine.
And now, Roma wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage Joseph Cotton,
who as New York's famous criminal lawyer Lou Hendricks,
in Crime Without Passion, resumes a narrative well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense.
I leaned over and glanced at the watch on common thrift.
The dialed glass was broken, the watch had stopped.
The hands pointed to two minutes of four.
The clock on the desk had just struck four.
The telephone. I let it ring. Had to.
Of course, the phone made it impossible to establish an alibi by setting the time forward.
Other phone calls might come in before five o'clock.
Someone, perhaps a maid, might even come to the apartment in person.
Through my mind rushed the courtroom scene in which my case would be tried.
The prosecuting attorney wouldn't miss that.
At three-fifty, Carmen Brown was alive.
As witnessed the fact that she answered a phone call,
which came through the switchboard to her apartment at that time.
At two minutes after four, just twelve minutes later,
a phone call came through that same switchboard which she failed to answer.
Why, gentlemen of the jury?
No. What I needed was an alibi for the hour preceding four o'clock.
The time at which her watch had stopped.
I must provide not only an alibi for myself, but also fortify it with evidence.
Tending to prove that someone other than myself had done the deed.
But how?
Fingerprints? They told a graphic story.
A story that would reveal that Carmen had been in a rage demanding something of the killer.
This would point directly to me since I was known to have been her admirer
and steady caller at her apartment.
But if I could make it appear as though the assailant was demanding something of her,
he was in a jealous rage.
It smashed the articles including the frame-framed photograph of Lou Hendrix.
And it concluded with the killing of Carmen.
I wiped the fingerprints carefully from the articles in question with my soap handkerchief.
Again, I imagined myself on trial in the courtroom.
This time with my defense counsel addressing the jury.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
Carmen Brown had undoubtedly been attacked by some other shooter
who was obviously jealous of the defendant, Lou Hendrix.
As witness, the destroyed photograph of the latter.
You will also note her assailant was crafty enough to remove all fingerprints.
So far it was good.
I had set the scene. I was ready to leave the apartment.
But wait, I just remembered.
A gun was in Carmen's desk only a few freaks from where she now lay.
They would wonder why she hadn't defended herself with it.
The prosecuting attorney wouldn't miss that.
Oh no, he had pointed an accusing finger at me.
And yet Carmen Brown did not reach for this weapon
with which she could have defended herself.
Why? Was it because the assailant was someone familiar with her?
Someone against whom she had no thought of harming herself?
Or perhaps because the assailant was familiar with the premises
and knew where the gun was and prevented her from reaching it.
I took the gun and slipped it into my coat pocket.
I would dispose of it later.
I took every precaution to make sure that no one saw me as I left the building.
My trained legal mind warned me against a surprise witness
which in so many court cases was dramatically brought forth by the prosecutor to confound the guilty.
I remembered grimly how some of my best cases had tumbled by the appearance in court
of some aimless, stray human, someone who happened to have seen the defendant
during his pre-supposed alibi.
The prosecutor would have a gleam in his eye questioning such a witness in the courtroom.
And you say you saw the defendant Lou Hendricks leaving the apartment building
shortly after the time of the murder?
This must not happen.
I had my plan pretty well in mind by now.
I took a back short cut to Broadway, the Palace Theater.
With an off hour, there was not a long line waiting.
I bought my ticket and went quickly in.
Seats without waiting. Seats in the third aisle to your right, please.
The moment I was seated, I got up again.
I returned to the lobby up the other side of the aisle and went directly to the lost and found desk.
Is there something I can do for you, sir?
I wish to report the loss of a pair of gloves.
Do you have any idea where they were lost?
Somewhere in the theater I had them when I came in.
Not usually to look careless, but the picture was so engrossing,
I was completely carried away with it.
Apparently I failed to carry away my gloves.
Gloves, I imagine they'll be turned in, sir?
Oh, I'm sure they'll be found.
If you'll just make a record of it.
Lou Hendrix is the name with an X.
Hendrix, huh? H-E-N-D-R-I-X, huh?
That's an unusual spelling.
Well, all right there, Mr. Hendrix.
If you'll just fill out this blank with your name and address and the time.
Oh, yes, yes, to be sure, the time.
Let's see, what is the time?
It's exactly 20 minutes after four.
I'll record that on the blank for you.
Oh, could it be that late?
I haven't had no idea of the time.
Quite a long picture.
Yes, the picture was a little longer than most.
I hope you enjoyed it, sir.
Oh, yes, yes, indeed, I enjoyed it very much.
It was well worth sitting through.
Well, thank you very much.
I had established an alibi for having spent the time
between 2.30 and 4.20 in the movie theater.
This was a period of two hours,
and this was now recorded in black and white at the lost and found desk.
I'd taken care that this should be a movie that I had already seen
so I'd be able to recite the plot of question.
The main body of my alibi had been a cheese.
I now went directly from the movie to my next court of call,
Sardi's Restaurant, where I'm well known.
How are you, Mr. Hendrix? Your usual same?
Yes, Henry.
Sin the headline?
No, no, I just came from a movie.
Oh, by the way, what is the exact time?
I've got to make a telephone call.
It's just 4.30, Mr. Hendrix.
4.30? I think I'll make my telephone call while you make me a chicken sandwich.
Okay, the booth is just there, you know.
Hendrix, Brown, Walsh, and Healy.
Mr. Healy, please. This is Mr. Hendrix.
Oh, certainly, Mr. Hendrix. One moment.
Hello?
Hello, Tom. This is Hendrix.
I've been trying to locate you all afternoon.
Oh, what for?
Several things came up that needed your attention.
Oh, it's not so hard to locate. Where did you try?
I tried everywhere I could think of. Even Carmen Brown's apartment.
Yeah? Did you talk to her?
Sure. I was trying to find out if she knew where you were.
What time was that?
Oh, about 3.50.
How did she seem when you asked if I were there?
Well, I don't know. Why?
Well, try and think. I'd like to know.
Well, come to think of it, she struck me as a little curt or upset about something.
Upset, eh?
Listen, I don't want you to call me at that number anymore, understand?
Well, sure, if you say so.
I'm all washed up at that telephone number.
Understand what I mean?
In the future, that number is out. Any other calls?
No.
Okay.
Again, my mind reverted to the courtroom scene in which I imagined my case being tried.
But this time, I had my case well in hand.
The thought of facing the prosecuting attorney did not disturb me.
The thought of that little bout between the two attorneys even amused me.
So, Mr. Hendricks told you that you needn't try to reach him at Ms. Brown's apartment anymore, eh?
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, when the defendant made this statement to his trusted friend and law partner,
he had undoubtedly good reason to believe there was another man in Carmen Brown's life.
I had forged another link in the chain of evidence pointing to my innocence.
Everything was working out in favor of a perfect alibi for my defense.
Everything was going fine. I was beginning to enjoy the case very much.
Now that the tension was relieved, I began to look upon my case as a sort of a game.
I began to get a kick out of it, and I conceived the idea of building up another witness.
Eddie White was the only one of Carmen's previous and was whom I knew,
and I considered for a moment involving him in the case.
He was Carmen's previous suitor just before I entered the picture.
He was known to be a hot-headed young gentleman given to nocturnal fisticuffs in public places,
but I finally dismissed this idea.
This witness I decided would be Miss Moore, who was also a dancer at the El Bravo Club.
She was Carmen's closest friend and confidant.
I telephoned Miss Moore and requested her to join me at the restaurant. She came right over.
You see before you, Miss Moore, a man suffering from the perfidy of one whom he has loved and trusted.
Would you mind saying that again in plain English?
Well, to put it more simply, I think Carmen has been two-timing me.
Miss Moore, I am consumed with jealousy. I must know the truth, and you are the only one who can tell me.
I don't get you, Mr. Hendricks.
Miss Moore, I'm going out of my mind with a brooding and uncertainty of this thing.
Oh, that's terrible, Mr. Hendricks.
My law practice is suffering. I'll wind up by losing all my money.
Oh, you mustn't do that, Mr. Hendricks. You know something?
No. What is it?
Oh, honest, Mr. Hendricks, I wouldn't tell this to another soul.
You know Carmen's my best girlfriend.
Oh, yes.
But you're such a swell guy. Well, I think you should know.
But to tell you the truth, I don't think Carmen appreciates you. That's what.
Miss Moore, if there is another man someone Carmen really loves, I'd force myself to step aside. It's her happiness.
Oh, well, I ain't saying she has. I just say Carmen has got an awful swell head since she got the lead in the Bird of Paradise number.
She thinks she's some punkin'. And I'm only saying I don't think she appreciates a high-class gentleman like you.
Thank you, Miss Moore. Have you seen Carmen today?
No, I haven't. Have you seen her?
No, I don't trust myself with fear. Goodness knows what I would do feeling this way.
Oh, Mr. Hendricks, you're all worked up, and I don't blame you.
Say, I have to leave you. I hate to leave, but I gotta go. It's getting late, and the dinner show goes on before long, you know.
Tell Carmen I'll be over to the El Bravo tonight and give her a last chance to prove herself.
Oh, I'll sure give her your message, Mr. Hendricks. I sure will.
I knew Carmen had not been receiving attention from another man, but if I could get Miss Moore to testify in court,
I could use her to convince the jury that I was jealous of Carmen, but that I loved her and wanted her alive, not dead.
This would make my case airtight.
I then made another telephone call. This was the Commons' apartment.
Hello?
Hello, is Miss Carmen Brown in?
I'll ring her apartment.
I'm sorry, she doesn't answer.
Well, this is Mr. Hendricks calling. Hadn't she been in at all? I've been trying to get her all day.
She hasn't come in while I've been here, Mr. Hendricks.
How long is that?
About three hours.
Thank you. I'm coming over there. Tell her if she comes in, will you?
This would strengthen my apparent effort to contact Carmen. It was a bold stroke, this, to go back to her house.
I approached the switchboard operator.
Good afternoon, Mr. Hendricks.
Oh, has Miss Brown come in since I called on the phone?
I haven't seen her. I'll ring her apartment again.
She still doesn't answer.
Well, please give her this note when she comes back.
All right, Mr. Hendricks. I'll see that she gets it.
I handed her the note. It read,
Darling, don't torture me anymore. Give me a chance to believe you.
I'm willing to forget what I heard or thought I heard over the phone, as ever, Lou.
This, too, would throw suspicion on another suitor.
Not only had I established an alibi for myself, but also I had succeeded in pointing a finger at a suspected rival.
I saw myself looking winningly at the jury while my defense counsel continued to address them.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
if the defendant Lou Hendricks had known Carmen Brown being dead in her apartment,
would he have written such a note?
The testimony reveals, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
that the defendant strongly suspected that Carmen Brown was receiving, uh, attentions from a suitor.
But, but he did not know that this very afternoon,
this creature had entered her apartment, struck her down, and killed her,
while the defendant was still trying to seek her out and forgive her.
My alibi was now complete.
I had every angle worked out. I summed up my case. It was perfect.
From my superior legal knowledge, my vast experience, I had built a perfect case for myself.
I was very pleased. My case was ready.
I had an excellent dinner, really excellent.
I then put in another phone call to Carmen's apartment.
I was ready to hear the news of the finding of the body.
At the news of the crime, I would rush right over and act my part of the thoroughly grief-stricken suitor.
This would be the finishing touch, our final flourish, if it were.
Miss Brown does not answer.
Crime had evidently still not been discovered.
I decided the best course would be to go to the El Bravo Club.
I was well known there. I would order coffee and dessert and wait there until Carmen's absence was noticed
and her murder discovered.
Good evening, Mr. Hendricks. Please wait there.
Oh, good evening, George. Hello there. How are you?
Hello, Lenore. Hi, Kay.
Hello.
David, oh, Ludd.
So I sent you away with my son because you think I'm going to sit around here.
Blond, blond, can't you think of anything but blond?
Oh, honey, come on, let's go home.
Oh, no, dear children, no, I can't trust you.
Oh, the famous criminal lawyer Lou Hendricks.
Our ex-college hero Eddie White. Product of the higher education.
Looking him over, I see.
Yeah, why have I sit here?
This is the entertainer's table. I have no monopoly on it.
Then I'll sit down.
By the way, Hendricks, I didn't know you were such a movie fan.
Just what do you mean?
Saw you going into the Palace Theater this afternoon.
You did? Just what time was that?
What time? Oh, a little after four, I should say.
You're crazy.
You think you saw me going to the Palace after four?
Well, I came out at 4.20 after seeing the whole show.
I don't care what you say. I saw you going in at a quarter after four, to be exact.
I was going to say hello, but you weren't looking my way.
Had you liked the picture, ought to be in your line, all about one of those crooked legal sharks.
And you say you saw the defendant Lou Hendricks going into the theater at a quarter after four?
Yes, sir, I did.
The surprise witness that I had been so carefully guarding against.
Here he was, sitting opposite me and the person of all people, Andy White.
In a flash, I could see all the evidence I had planted turning against me.
The prosecution would take it apart piece by piece.
The all too obvious false mechanism of my alibi.
There wasn't an alibi. I had no case.
Andy White's simple statement of the time, 4.15, revealed all of my subsequent actions as those of a thoroughly guilty man.
Look, White, it must have been somebody else you saw.
Listen, don't tell me I saw you looking around, buying your chicken and ducking in.
I know it was a quarter after four because I had a date outside.
And don't get excited it wasn't with Carmen.
That's a lie.
What's that?
I said you're lying, you didn't see me.
Oh, that's what you said, is it?
Listen, I never liked you and I don't take that kind of talk off a guy I got no use for.
Get that!
You're a liar.
You're not only a liar, but a numbskull, a perennial dropkicker.
Once a dropkicker, always a dropkicker.
Oh, you little shyster!
Take your hands off my collar.
Let me go.
Take your hands off me.
You're calling me a liar, huh?
You little shyster!
You're no good little...
Somehow, I don't know how or when, I had taken the gun out of my pocket.
Carmen's gun, the gun I was going to dispose of.
I was holding it in my hand, and it exploded.
No one heard the shot through the blair of the orchestra.
A new number of the floor show was starting.
Everyone's attention was focused on the dance floor.
The chorus girls were coming out for the Bird of Paradise number.
Everything was a little blurred, a little hazy.
I looked at the girls as they came forward.
Leading the chorus, I saw...
I saw Carmen Brown.
She was dancing.
This... this could not be.
I... I grew sick.
I shut my eyes.
And I opened them again.
There was no hallucination.
It was Carmen.
Under her ear, at the back of her head, I saw strips of quirt plaster.
Now I knew then what had happened.
I left her apartment without taking a second look at her.
Evidently, the blow had merely knocked her out.
She must have regained consciousness and called for a doctor.
But as simple as that, she was alive now.
And dancing.
Lou Hendrix.
The shining legal intelligence.
I had built a perfect alibi to exonerate myself of a murder which had never occurred.
While across the table, slumped in a chair opposite me,
was the body of a man for whose murder I had no defense.
Every step of my carefully built alibi, my perfect case,
would help to convict me of the killing of Betty White.
This time I had no alibi.
This time there was no possible defense.
This time when the judge asked the foreman if they had reached a decision,
there could be only one reply.
Yes, your honor, we have.
We find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree.
Suspended.
Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A.
Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Before we hear again from Joseph Cotton, the star of Crying Without Passion,
tonight's suspense play, This is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.
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This is Joseph Cotton.
I've always been particularly fond of crime without passion and it's been a great pleasure indeed
to appear in it tonight for you on Suspense.
Next Thursday, I know you'll want to hear a very young actor whom we've all admired for a very great number of years.
It's Jackie Cooper grown up in just out of Uncle Sam's Navy.
He'll appear on Suspense in a role quite different from anything you've ever associated with him.
Joseph Cotton will soon be seen in the David O. Selznick Technicolor Production,
Dual in the Sun.
Next Thursday, same time, Roma Wines will bring you Jackie Cooper as star of Suspense,
radio's outstanding theater of thrill.
Produced by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California.
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This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
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