And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Roma Wines present Suspense.
Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Mr. Hume Cronin as star of Blue Eyes,
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 in entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals.
Yes, right now, a glass full would be very pleasant as Roma Wines bring you Hume Cronin in a remarkable tale of...
Suspense!
Today began just like any other day.
I got to bed early last night because I had to go over the accounts of Mr. Bevins.
When you go over the accounts of old Hawkshaw, you've got to be in tip-top shape.
Well, I dressed myself rather carefully this morning.
I put on the necktie with the little flowers on it, the blue and red one.
Jane said she liked it, told me it matched my eyes, made them look bluer.
I went down to breakfast. My wife, Laura, was having her coffee.
Good morning, Oliver.
Good morning, dear.
I'll have to warm your coffee. Here's the paper.
Thanks.
Oliver, must you wear that tie?
Hmm?
That tie is not at all becoming.
Well, matches my suit.
It's a perfectly dreadful shade. Makes you look like a rube.
I like it.
Well, I don't. And I wish you wouldn't wear it.
Oliver, aren't you listening to me?
Oh, sure, sure. I was reading.
Oh, well, don't let my conversation disturb you.
That's all right.
Oliver!
What's wrong now?
Oliver, I don't know what's gotten into you lately. You forget things.
You scarcely seem to hear a word I say. Aren't you feeling well?
I feel fine. Why shouldn't I?
Well, you look a bit drawn.
I think I'd better make an appointment for you with Dr. Thacker.
Look, Laura, there's nothing to matter with me. I better get going now. I'll be late.
But you haven't finished your breakfast.
Well, that's all I want. I'm not very hungry. Where's my briefcase?
On the hall table. Oliver, are you sure you're not ill? You look positively hollow-eyed.
I never felt better in my life.
Well...
See you tonight, dear. Goodbye.
Oliver!
Yes?
I hope you're all...
Oh, nothing. Goodbye.
Laura was like that. A chronic worrier.
She seemed to take delight in fretting about things that wouldn't even occur to the average person.
Imagine me not feeling well. Why, I've never had a sick day in my life.
There on the trellis was my prize rose bush. Climbing talisman, they call it.
Suddenly I was thinking of Jane.
Perhaps if I put a rosebud in my buttonhole, Jane would notice.
She'd say something about how the scent matched her perfume, and maybe we'd talk about roses.
And I could impress her, because I know quite a lot about roses.
I was just about to pick one of the buds...
Well, well, well, good morning, Mr. Littlefield. Good morning. Two lettuce for you today.
Good morning, Mr. Crowley.
Well, I see you're doing a little gardening, hmm?
Oh, no, I was just sort of looking the garden over.
Well, it's a mighty fine garden you've got there, Mr. Littlefield.
Worked pretty hard on it, I suppose.
Yes, I've given it my fair share of time.
Oh, yes. A little too much, maybe, hmm?
I beg your pardon?
Well, it pays to be on the safe side, Mr. Littlefield.
Now, of course, of course, it ain't none of my business, but it seems to me that you're getting to look a...
well, a little peaked. You'd better go easy.
Yes. Well, then, you know...
Good morning, Mr. Crowley.
Yes, good morning, you sir. I gotta get going anyway.
What was the second time?
The second time I'd heard it, and the day was hardly more than an hour old.
First Laura, and now the postman.
I felt all right. I felt swell.
I thought of the rosebud again.
I bent down, snipped off a bud from the bush,
had to take the red crosspin out of my lapel to get the rose in,
but I didn't mind taking the time. After all, one minute more or less never harmed anyone.
I didn't know then how precious a minute can be.
I glanced at my watch, 823.
I had to run part of the way to the station.
I arrived out of breath, panting, perspiring a bit, but I made it.
Steve and Joe helped me aboard.
Hey! Oliver, you ought to get an earlier start in the morning.
I was... I was delayed at the house.
Boy, listen to old Ollie wheeze.
And you're the guy who used to be a track star in high school.
Where's the old wind, Ollie?
I'm all right. Just a second now.
Seriously, Oliver, it's dangerous business for a man of your age to be running around that way.
Man of my age? Listen to him, you'd think I was 80.
Say, know what you need? Maxidream.
Pep me up, make you feel like a million.
I tell you there's nothing wrong with me.
I got two or three here with me. Little box, pocket here somewhere.
Here we are. Let me make a little present.
Non-habit forming, you know?
What do I want with Maxidream?
You keep them in your pocket.
Take a half of one with some water when you get that sagged out feeling, you know?
Pep you up like a million, make a new man out of you.
It's getting to be just like a club.
All you had to do to get a membership was to smile at me and say,
Mr. Littlefield, you look a little sick.
Mr. Littlefield, you look a little peaking.
Mr. Littlefield, why don't you just find some nice quiet corner and go and curl up and die?
Mr. Littlefield.
It was nine o'clock when I got to the office.
I noticed a lumpy feeling in my solar plexus.
Right here, a little on the left by my heart.
It was just indigestion, of course.
I got my accounts together and I went into Mr. Bevan's outer office.
There was Jane at her desk.
She looked lovely this morning.
The sunlight coming through the Venetian blind seemed to blend with her blonde hair.
All at once I wondered why I'd ever married Laura.
Sunlight never did anything to her hair.
Jane was busy and didn't see me come in.
I coughed, lightly.
Oh, Mr. Littlefield, good morning.
Good morning, Jane.
I heard you cough. Do you have a cold?
No, no, I haven't a cold. I never felt better in my life.
I'm sorry, Mr. Littlefield, I just...
Oh, forgive me, Jane. I didn't mean to snap at you.
I guess I'm a little jumpy this morning.
Well, I can understand your being jumpy.
Mr. Bevan's can certainly be an old bear if he finds a mistake in the books.
He certainly can.
But I wouldn't worry. You're well dressed for the occasion.
That rose in your lapel should appeal to his more pleasant side.
That is, if he has a more pleasant side.
I just happened to notice the bite in one of the bushes in the garden this morning.
I don't know why I wore it.
It looks very nice.
Thank you. It's a climbing talisman.
Do you know anything about roses?
No, I'm afraid not. They're my favorite flower, though.
I grow them as a hobby. I had some exhibited once.
You must be quite a gardener.
Oh, no, no, no, I'm not really.
You see, there isn't a lot to growing a good rose.
You just have to watch your soil carefully. Irrigate, of course.
And roses take a lot of spraying, too.
Oh, I see.
And let me tell you, if you intend to exhibit your flowers,
there mustn't be any evidence of insect damage.
You see, a rose is judged first by its form and color, then substance, then...
Excuse me.
Of course.
Yes, sir.
Have you seen Littlefield?
Why, yes, sir, he...
Why hasn't he come in here?
Why doesn't he know he has a nine o'clock appointment with me?
Well, Mr. Bevan's, Mr. Littlefield has been waiting for you in the outer office.
You didn't call, sir, and...
Is it necessary for me to call my employees after I've made a specific appointment?
Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Bevan's, I'm sure that Mr. Littlefield...
Littlefield, you're a fool. Have him come in here right away.
Yes, sir. Mr. Littlefield, I just...
It's all right, it's all right, Jane.
I'll go right in.
I walked towards the door.
I could feel that lump inside of me getting bigger, almost choking.
What right did Bevan's have to say such things about me?
And in front of Jane...
I reached for the door handle and turned it.
Well, well, Littlefield, what are you standing there for?
Come in, come in.
Sit down.
Littlefield, I believe you're aware of my sentiments regarding punctuality.
I expect my employees to be on time.
In fact, I demand that they do.
Well, you see, Mr. Bevan...
Never mind, never mind, we'll discuss the matter at a later date.
Right now, I want to see the vouchers, last month's.
Yes, sir.
Right here.
Littlefield, these are the May vouchers.
Oh, so they are.
I'm sorry, Mr. Bevan's.
Here.
Let me see the audit on these.
Yes, sir.
Not the sales slips, Littlefield, the audit.
What the devil's wrong with you, man?
What?
A person would think you are completely addled.
Addled?
Well, I'm not addled.
And I'm not a fool either.
You had no right to call me that, you understand?
Littlefield, I think you must be ill.
No, no, I'm not ill.
Don't say I'm ill because I never felt better in my life.
All that's wrong with me, Mr. Bevan's, is...
That I'm mad.
Yes, that's the word for it.
I think you are mad, completely mad.
That's not what I mean either, Mr. Bevan's.
I'm perfectly all right, except that I'm not going to sit here
and listen to you calling me names.
No, sir.
I've got 17 years' worth of tempers stored up right here,
and I'm warning you, Mr. Bevan's, I'd like to tell you just what I think of you.
Get out of this office, Littlefield.
If there's one thing I will not tolerate, it's insubordination.
All right, Mr. Bevan's, all right. So I'm insubordinate.
And it may surprise you to know that I've wanted to be insubordinate for 17 long years.
See, here, young...
17 years I've worked for you, and what thanks have I ever had for it?
Two dollar raises and listening to you about...
Littlefield, get out! You're fired.
I know, sure, I'm fired.
But that's all you can do to me, Mr. Bevan's.
All you can do is fire me.
Why didn't you fire me a long time ago?
So there I was, out of a job.
What was the next step?
Couldn't go home in the middle of the day.
Well, I could, but you don't know Laura.
Never would have been able to explain it to her. She wouldn't have understood.
She never understood anything.
With her, it was payday, the bridge club, a new hat for Easter.
Everything suburban, everything in a rut, always in a rut.
Oh, I went back and sat in my office to think.
After a little while, I got up and went to the water cooler,
pulled my handkerchief out to wipe off my hands, and something fell out of my pocket.
It was that little pill box. I opened it.
There were three and a half of those maxadrenes in it.
I swallowed them all.
I sat down, and in a little, I began to feel clear in my mind.
My life with this awful, deadly grind, because I was married to Laura.
She was the cause of all my unhappiness, the cause of my failure,
the reason for my losing my job.
Something would have to be done about Laura.
Why not eliminate the cause?
That was it.
Eliminate the cause, and you have the situation lit.
Eliminate the cause.
Suddenly my mind was made up.
I must kill Laura.
For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Hume Cronin in Blue Eyes
by Charles Smith and Lewis Reed.
Roma Wines presentation tonight in Radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Between the acts of Suspense, this is Ken Niles for Roma Wines.
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And now Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood sound stage,
Hume Cronin who as Oliver Littlefield in Blue Eyes
continues a narrative well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Murder is a tough proposition, takes a lot of thought,
mustn't be messy or violent, it's got to be quick and effective
or else a guy stands a chance of getting caught.
How to do this thing? How to do it without a slip?
Suddenly I had it.
Laura took some medicine every night at bedtime,
two tablespoons of powder that Dr. Thacker had prescribed for her
and a glass of warm milk.
If I were to get some poison that looked like that powder and substi...
Yes, that was perfect, I couldn't miss.
Quick and effective.
Three o'clock, I walked up the steps of the public library and went in.
Yes sir, can I help you?
I'd like to see some books on...
Yes?
I just wanted to look over something on roses.
That's Horticulture Section 5 just across the aisle.
Oh yes, Horticulture course, thank you.
I took a book from the shelf, thumbed a few pages and then
finally decided to risk a quick glance in the direction of the librarian,
see if she was still watching me.
The desk was empty, she'd left it.
Then I saw where she was at the other end of the library, stacking books in a hand car.
Here was my chance, I could slip across to the science alcove without her seeing me.
I went to the section marked science, medicine, looked in the card index file under P, pharmacology.
Here it is, pharmacology and therapeutics by Walter A. Bastido, PHGMD.
Someday I'm going to look up those initials and find out what they mean.
I found the book, the index said look under a hydrochloric acid,
and cyanate, and there it was, cyanate, used as intensifier in photographic development.
Two and a half grains of this cyanate is reckoned to be a lethal dose.
I could buy this stuff in a photographic store.
Two and a half grains, fatal.
Pardon me sir.
Oh yes?
I'd like to put these books away if I may.
Oh, you're the gentleman who was looking for books on roses.
Yes, yes, I am.
Well, I'm afraid you're in the wrong department sir.
I told you a moment ago you'll find everything on roses.
This clumsy me, I'm terribly sorry.
Oh it's all right, it's my fault, I was in the way.
Oh, you dropped your book. Here.
Thank you.
What? This isn't a book on roses at all. It's pharmacology.
Oh, well what do you know about that? I must have picked up the wrong book somewhere.
Yes, you must have.
She stared at me as I put the book back on the shelf.
I turned and walked away.
I could feel her eyes following me through the door.
I was conscious of that lump under my heart again.
Felt heavy and hard like a rock.
And there was a dryness in my throat too.
I swallowed a few times to get rid of it.
At Fort from Sutter there's a photographic supply place.
Good afternoon sir.
Good afternoon. I'd like some cyanate please.
How much do you want sir?
Oh, enough to treat some negatives with.
Quite a few negatives.
About two pounds?
Yes, I think that'll be fine.
Well, I'll wait for you. What kind of camera have you been using?
What? Oh, I have a brownie camera.
Brownie, eh? Yeah, I have a brownie camera.
Brownie, eh? Yeah, a lot of people are going back to them since the war.
You can take the pictures with a box camera if you use it right.
You know what they say, it's not the camera but the man behind the camera that makes the pictures.
Yes.
What size negative do you shoot with it?
Negatives? Well, as far as negatives go, I shoot...
Two and a quarter by three and a quarter probably.
That's what most brownies take.
Yes, that's the size.
I wasn't going to be able to keep this up much longer.
I was bound to make a slip sooner or later.
Couldn't say I was in a hurry, he might get suspicious.
A man buying poison should never be in a hurry.
Why was he taking so long?
I could feel perspiration in my forehead, cold and damp.
The room began to look lopsided.
Everything seemed to be swaying.
Swaying.
Grip the counter with both hands, grip it tightly.
Now smile.
Here you are, sir, that'll be 57 cents.
Yes, here.
Thank you.
Hey, just a minute.
Hey, Mr. K.
I heard a shout after me but I kept right on walking, faster.
So a photographic studio was just like a drug store after all.
If you bought poison you had to sign for us.
Well, I wasn't going to.
No, sir, I wasn't going to.
I ducked around the corner.
Hey, Mr. Hey, officer, you see a fellow just come out of here?
What fellow?
A gray suit, blue tie, rose in the buttonhole.
No?
Well, he's gone.
Now what do you make of that?
The guy gives me a 20 instead of a one and disappears.
Well, I can do business like that all day long.
I won't forget that, gent.
No, sir.
I arrived home at 6.30.
Laura wasn't there.
The table wasn't set.
Of course, she was probably late shopping.
I went upstairs and found the bottle in the medicine chest.
The cyanate matched the powder in the bottle perfectly.
She'd never be able to tell the difference.
I poured half the bottle's contents into the sink,
marked with my finger the level of the medicine,
and then refilled the bottle with cyanate up to the mark
and shook it so as to mix it thoroughly.
I emptied the rest of the poison in the sink
and I let the water run for a minute.
There, it was done.
Everything accomplished, and very neatly, too.
All I had to do now was wait.
I glanced at the bedroom door.
It was closed.
All the doors on the second floor were closed.
That's another thing.
That's another thing I hated about Laura,
so precise about her housekeeping, everything in its place,
even the closing doors when a room wasn't in use.
I went back downstairs and I tried to light a cigarette.
My hands were beginning to shake.
Nerves again.
I took a book from the table by the sofa, tried to read.
Then I realized what I was reading.
Funny, I should have picked up that book.
Memory album of Oliver and Laura Littlefield.
And a dance program tied in pink ribbon.
Homecoming dance, Indiana University, 1928.
First anniversary.
Oliver and Laura Littlefield celebrating their first anniversary,
July the 12th, 1929.
They invite you to an informal tea.
Suddenly, I was lonesome for Laura.
I missed her.
Where was she?
Why was she so late?
I wanted to hear her voice.
Even if she nagged me, it didn't really matter.
I wanted to hear her say something.
I thought back over the events of that day.
I thought of my married life with Laura.
Hadn't been as bad as I let myself believe.
Hadn't been bad at all.
Laura loved me.
She did.
She did love me and I loved her.
I must have been crazy to even think of killing her.
What would I ever do without her?
I leaped to my feet and I ran up the stairs to the medicine chest.
I poured the cyanate down the drain, all of it.
Washed out the sink with my hand to be sure that the last bit of the poison was gone.
After that, I...
I was calmer again.
I guess I'd come to my senses.
I thought of the blue tie I was wearing.
The one Laura didn't like.
I changed that before dinner.
I opened the door of the bedroom and...
Then I saw, sprawled on the bed, her face distorted in pain.
I went to the bed and I shook her.
Laura?
Laura!
She didn't move.
She was cold. Terribly cold.
Hello?
Hello, Dr. Thacker?
Doctor, this is Oliver Littlefield. Can you come over right away?
Something's happened to my wife.
I think she's dead.
I am afraid you were right, Mr. Littlefield.
This glass she drank from, it's poison.
But why?
Why?
Because it looks like suicide.
Suicide? She wouldn't do that.
She had no reason. She should...
No, she had a reason, Mr. Littlefield.
Her wife was dying of an incurable disease.
But that's not true. She would have told me.
She wanted to keep it from you. Those were her wishes.
I'm sorry, Mr. Littlefield.
Without saying anything more, he left the room.
I sat there staring at Laura.
My mind was a blank.
I don't know how long it was until Dr. Thacker came back.
Mr. Littlefield.
What is it?
This bottle.
That's the medicine you prescribed for my wife.
I think not.
Of course it is.
What are you talking about?
I didn't prescribe cyanate.
It seems that I may be obliged to revise my diagnosis of your wife's death.
I don't understand.
Oh, really, Mr. Littlefield. Isn't it quite obvious?
Your wife's death was caused by a lethal dosage of cyanate.
Her medicine bottle was filled with cyanate. The odor is still there.
Yes, but I can explain that.
You see, there wasn't a bit of it left. I threw it all away.
She must have bought some herself.
I hardly think she'd fill her medicine bottle with poison if she intended to commit suicide.
Now, wait a minute. You've got to listen to me.
I didn't do it. I didn't do it, if that's what you're thinking.
Dr. Thacker, you've known me for a long time. You can take my word for it.
Hello, operator. Get me the police.
You see, it started with that blue tie.
It made my eyes look bluer.
Everybody told me I was sick. I started to feel sick.
Yes, that's right. This is an emergency.
Then the Rosebud and Mr. Bevins and the Maxedrine.
I didn't know what I was doing for a while.
Hello, this is Dr. Thacker. You'd better send someone to 6931 Kilburn right away.
You know, people can drive you out of your mind if they keep saying the same thing to you over and over again.
Can I beg your pardon?
You've got to listen. You've got to listen. It was the blue tie.
Laura started it. She said I was hollow-eyed.
No, it looks like homicide.
Twelve hours. It all happened in twelve short hours.
But since then, the hours have been long, endless, eternity.
How long will I have to wait?
How long until they file out of that room and tell me what I already know?
The coroner's jury found that Laura Littlefield met her death by poisoning.
It's recommended that her husband, Oliver Littlefield, be held to answer.
I can hear it now.
There's no other verdict. The testimony of the librarian, the clerk at the photographic store, the doctor.
Powerful evidence that lies.
Damning evidence that...
That'll send Oliver Littlefield to the electric chair.
Mr. Littlefield, it's all over.
I knew it. I knew what you would find.
The coroner's jury found the testimony of the librarian, the clerk, and the rest convincing.
Undeniable.
And of course, the presence of the glass of poison at your wife's bedside was confusing.
Undoubtedly, she had intended to commit suicide. But of course, we know now that she didn't.
When will I be arrested?
That is a matter for the police. If they decide to prosecute, of course, under the circumstances...
Circumstances. Circumstantial evidence.
I didn't murder my wife! I didn't! I didn't!
Of course not, Mr. Littlefield. The autopsy settled that. Not a single trace of poison in the body.
She died as a result of her illness.
No poison?
No poison. And lucky for you, Mr. Littlefield.
Because if she'd committed suicide as she planned, just how would you have been able to prove your innocence, Mr. Littlefield?
Just exactly how?
Suspense.
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Your first sip of Grand Estates wine will convince you that in Grand Estates there is a difference.
A difference born of choicest grapes and the patient, priceless skill of Roma, America's greatest vintner.
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Remember the name, Grand Estates wines by Roma, crowning achievement of vintner skill.
Hume Cronin appeared through the courtesy of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, producers of the Technicolor musical Holiday in Mexico.
Next Thursday, same time, Roma Wines will bring you Mr. Robert Young as star of Suspense, radio's outstanding theater thrill.
Produced by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.