And now, Roma Wines, R-O-M-A, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
Roma Wines presents Suspense.
Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Mr. Jack Carson, a star of Easy Money,
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 Jack Carson in a remarkable tale of Suspense.
The night I'm telling about, that Easy Money was hanging up there somewhere, just waiting to fall right into my lap.
I didn't even know it.
All I knew was I had business elsewhere.
I was playing the piano at Mario's over in Brooklyn, but that night I slipped out early.
I didn't even tell Ellen I'd just left.
Because for the first time in 14 years, I had a purpose in life, a plan, an objective, and I wanted to think.
I was sitting in Gus's grill over a cup of coffee, still thinking.
When I looked up suddenly, and there was Ellen.
Hmm. Where'd you come from?
I followed you. I think I'll have something to eat too.
A girl can sure work up an appetite chasing a man.
Look, go away, will you? I'm depressed.
That's all the more reason you need me, darling.
The food here is terrible. Some of Gus's customers have to be treated for shock.
Let's go somewhere else.
This is the only place where my credit's still good.
I stopped at your rooming house yesterday. Somebody said you had to move.
If you need money, Paul, why didn't you tell me?
Because I'm through taking money from you.
You're only borrowing it.
Look, this is a terrible blow to my pride, darling, but for the tenth time will you marry me?
Nope.
Why not? It'd make me terribly happy.
You'd be happy for a month and miserable for the rest of your life.
Is this a kind way of telling me that you don't love me?
You're never out of my mind.
Just walking in the street, I get lonely for you.
Then marry me, Paul.
I'd be good for you. I'd always be nagging you and driving you to work harder and get someplace.
I'm just exactly where I belong, walling a piano at Mario's for those lecherous leg breakers.
I know better.
You know, a couple of times I was there when you stayed after closing.
You thought you were all alone, and I heard you playing.
How did you ever get like this?
You're imagining things.
Well, you never tell me anything about yourself.
Paul, when I stopped at your room yesterday, I saw something on the floor that kind of puzzled me.
Did it?
Uh-huh. A page torn out of last week's Destiny magazine.
What's so puzzling about that?
It was all carefully folded.
You know, it looked like something you'd been carrying in your pocket.
I thought maybe you dropped it, so I brought it along.
What would I want that for?
I don't know.
It's just a full page ad about the diary of Martha Lathrop that's starting next week.
It says, after ten years abroad, Martha Lathrop has just come back to America.
Her authoritative books have opened the secret doors of politics.
Her keen mind has alerted America on world affairs and punctured the stuffed shirts of important men.
Now read the sensational story behind all her stories.
Extraordinary woman.
Yeah.
Oh, well.
You didn't answer my question yet.
Which question?
The only one that really interests a woman.
Are you going to marry me?
I'm already married.
You're married?
That happens to men, you know.
Why didn't you ever tell me, Paul?
Because it's something that happened a long time ago. It's 14 years since I last saw her.
14 years?
And you never did anything about it?
There was nothing I could do until now.
Until Martha came back to this country.
Martha?
You mean this woman in...
Yeah, yeah. She's my wife.
Martha Lathrop? Your wife?
I'm going to see her tonight.
But why? In all these years, why didn't you ever...
Because sometimes marriage really seems to mean what it says.
Till death do us part.
I left Ellen and went up there.
She was living in a big converted brownstone on Gramercy Plate, overlooking the park.
The door was opened by a rough-looking character who would have been a lot more convincing as a private dick than as a butler.
Which is what he was apparently supposed to be.
For a moment I wondered if he knew anything about me.
If this watchdog might be the one person she could have told to warn him against me.
But of course I was wrong.
Not with her pride, not her, not Martha.
Yes?
I want to see Miss Lathrop.
You have an appointment?
No, but...
Then you can't see her.
You're not a waiter, madam.
Without an appointment you can't see her. Nobody can see her.
Miss Lathrop is a very sick woman.
Sick?
The newspapers didn't say anything about it.
Never mind what the newspapers said. You heard what I said.
Well look, just give her this watch. I'll wait.
What about the watch?
Well just give it to her. I think she'll see me. It has her name in it.
Oh. Something you found?
Uh, yeah. Something I found.
He took the watch and went upstairs.
I knew the watch would work because Martha herself had given it to me as a wedding present.
I knew exactly how it would work, up to a point.
And if she still wouldn't give me what I wanted, I was ready for that too.
But there was something about the whole setup that I didn't get.
The house itself, dark and somber as a prison.
The pug ugly butler.
The part about her being sick. It didn't fit. It just didn't fit with what I knew about Martha Lathrop.
I sat down in the living room to wait.
It almost jumped out of my skin.
It was a big bird like a parrot, a macaw or mackaw, whatever it's called,
peering at me through the bars of a cage.
I remembered now reading about how some big game hunter had given it to her.
It was big and bright colored and mean looking with a green stripe between its eyes,
which gave a really quite startling impression that the thing was wearing spectacles.
I was still staring at it when I turned and I saw Martha.
For the first time in fourteen years.
She was pale, thinner than I remembered, but with the same hard intense blue eyes.
The same air of cold condescension, but it was something else.
Suddenly I knew what it was.
It was fear.
A look of hidden fear that was almost shocking to me,
who had almost known Martha as utterly even cruelly fearless.
I was in for another shock.
She didn't speak to me, she spoke to the butler.
Robert, have you searched him?
Not yet, Miss Lathrop.
Please do.
Turn around.
What's the idea?
I said turn around.
Well, he's all right, Miss Lathrop.
Very well, you may go now, Robert.
Yes, Miss Lathrop.
May I ask what that was all about?
I've had some very trying experiences since I saw you, Paul.
You must have if you have to search all the callers for concealed weapons.
What are you afraid of, Martha?
I'd rather not discuss it if you don't mind.
What do you want?
You're not exactly overjoyed to see me, are you?
I said what do you want?
I read about your diary, I came to congratulate you.
Then congratulate me and get out.
Look, Martha, that bird seems to be as bad tempered as you are.
Can you keep him out of this conversation?
This conversation is over.
Not my end of it, no.
What did you come here for? Money? Because the answer's no.
No, not this time.
This time I want something money can't buy.
One of the very few things it can't.
What's that?
To be free, Martha.
Why?
So that I can marry again.
Did I happen to say something funny?
I suppose to some people love isn't funny, is it?
Wasn't to me when I married you.
That was the one bad miscalculation I made in my life.
I know.
I knew that first time you went to Paris for a newspaper, I'd never see you again.
You said going away would only be temporary, but as the French say,
there's nothing so permanent as the temporary.
Why didn't you get a divorce then?
Why didn't you think then that someday you might want to marry again?
After my experience with you?
My dear Martha, what I thought of women after that isn't fit language even for your ears.
But you weren't above taking money from a woman, were you?
You weren't above forging checks with my name, were you?
I needed it.
And I knew your vanity.
That was my temptation and my safety.
That you couldn't bear to look ridiculous by admitting that you had a...
a no good bum of a husband.
We made our bargain.
I could have sent you to jail. I still can't remember that.
Now why didn't you divorce me?
Because I...
Because you didn't want me, but you couldn't bear the thought that I might be completely free of you.
That's ridiculous.
Someone once said that we kill the thing we love.
Are you trying to say I still love you? You?
Oh, maybe in a twisted sort of a way.
Because mine was the only love you ever really had.
Maybe somewhere deep in your mind you're trying to keep the bleached bones of it.
I...I'm not completely...
I wonder, Martha. I've always wanted...
Get out of here!
Without an answer? Without my freedom?
The answer's no. Never, do you hear? Never.
Now, get out.
Alright, Martha. But never is a long, long time.
For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Jack Carson in Easy Money.
A radio play by Sydney Renthal.
Roma Wines presentation tonight in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Between the acts of Suspense, this is Ken Niles for Roma Wines.
Whether you've been hunting ducks or houses, there's no pleasanter ending to a busy day than a quiet family evening at home.
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Buy now for the holidays and save on Roma, America's favorite wine.
And now, Roma Wines bring back to our Hollywood sound stage, Jack Carson in Easy Money.
A tale well calculated to keep you in Suspense.
So Martha wouldn't give me a divorce.
All right, I could have stood that.
But that business about sending me to jail, it was different.
And I knew my Martha.
And I knew that now that she was back from Europe and could do it, she still hated me enough so that someday she'd yield to the temptation and would do it.
Yeah, but that was all right, too.
Martha wanted to play that way, I was ready. I was way ahead of her.
In a place like Mary, as the customers we have, you can get a hold of almost anything you want, if you know who to ask.
But the first thing I got was nitrazine because it was the easiest and one of the deadliest.
And the next was a bunch of keys, pass keys.
And that was all I needed.
So the next night after I left Mario's, I just waited out in the park across the street.
I was prepared to wait there every night for a week if I had to.
But it was less than an hour.
A taxi drove up in front of the house.
A well-dressed, well-heeled looking gent got out and went in.
The taxi waited.
In about ten minutes he came out again with Martha and they drove off.
A little time after that, the butler left.
I walked across the street.
And the third key I tried let me in the door.
It was that fiend of a bird.
But it only stopped me for a minute.
I won't say I wasn't nervous.
I guess anybody's nervous when they're about to commit a murder.
But I hadn't any reason to be, I kept telling myself.
Who was going to pin it on me?
As far as anybody who knew Martha was concerned, I didn't even exist.
Well, I went upstairs and found her bedroom.
And on the bedside table I found the bottle of sleeping pills, just as I expected.
She'd always use them and she was the type that always would.
Very carefully I took each little capsule apart and emptied its contents down the wash basin in the bathroom.
Then I filled each one up again with nitrazine, enough to kill a horse.
I was down at the bottom of the stairs again when a light went on in the vestibule.
She was coming back.
I had just time to slip behind one of the heavy curtains in the living room, but that was all.
I wouldn't have any need like that.
But Martha, to suspect me of all people.
Please, Martin, I would rather not discuss it.
Martha, you must realize that these obsessions are symptoms of a sick mind.
I said I would rather not discuss it.
Good night.
She'd had a quarrel with someone. That was good.
Now I knew she'd take the sleeping pills.
She went directly upstairs. I waited.
Five minutes later the butler came in.
But he went straight on to his own quarters somewhere in the back of the house.
I waited some more.
It seemed like hours, but I suppose it was only a few minutes.
I wondered if she'd taken the sleeping pills yet.
I wondered if I'd hear her when she fell.
Finally, I didn't dare wait any longer.
I slipped out from behind the curtain and crossed the living room.
I just closed the front door quietly behind me when a light went on inside.
I pressed into a corner of the vestibule.
Through the glass panel of the door, I could see Martha and a negligee coming down the stairs.
And she had a bottle in her hand.
The bottle of sleeping pills.
For a second I thought she must have found out somehow that she was going to call the police.
Yeah, but she wasn't.
Moving like a sleepwalker, she crossed the living room.
She was dumping one of the pills out of the bottle into her hand.
And then she stopped.
She stopped in front of the cage of that bird.
Suddenly I saw the whole thing.
The tough butler who said she was sick and searched people for weapons.
The fear behind her eyes.
The man she just quarreled with about obsessions and symptoms of a sick mind.
Martha was insane.
I watched while she took the sleeping pill in her fingers and held it through the bars of the cage for the bird.
I saw the bird grab it in its beak, but I didn't wait for the rest.
Softly as I could, I opened the outer door and went down to the street.
Martha was insane.
And because she was insane, because she thought people were trying to kill her, I couldn't kill her.
Nobody could ever kill her.
Hello.
Paul, are you all right?
Alan, sure, I'm all right.
What time is it?
Eleven o'clock.
I just saw the papers.
Saw the papers?
About Martha Lathrop.
What about her?
She's dead.
Poisoned.
Poisoned?
They found nitrosine.
That's impossible. It couldn't be.
I'm afraid it's true, Paul.
Alan, where are you?
At Gus's.
Paul, Paul, let's go away.
With what?
I've got a little money, enough to get us to Chicago, maybe Los Angeles.
We could change our names and start over again.
Why, Alan?
You think I killed her, don't you?
Paul, if you did, I know why you did, and I don't care.
You're quite a gal, Alan, but I didn't kill her.
You were there. You said you were going to...
Yes, I was, I was, but I didn't kill her and I can prove it.
Don't you believe me?
Okay, paper. Paper, here you are.
Here you are, here you are.
Hey, you, beat it.
Wait a minute. Give me a couple of those.
Yes, sir, here you are. All about the big murder.
Murder?
Yes, sir, a few. Okay, pal, thanks.
All right, now beat it.
Okay, take it easy, will you? I gotta make a little...
Paul.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
It wasn't you. Oh, Paul.
Dr. Martin Osterman.
That must have been the guy she went out with last night.
And they've got him cold.
They quarreled publicly. They dressed him.
She said he was trying to poison her.
He'd given her the prescription for the sleeping pills that killed her.
Alan, how would you like to have some real money and earn it?
Easy money.
Money?
This Osterman is rich, filthy rich.
But, Paul...
If I can prove I didn't do it, I can prove that he didn't do it.
Harrison, Winters and Forbes.
Which one is handling the Osterman case?
I'll give you Mr. Harrison.
Hello?
Mr. Harrison?
Yes?
The papers say that you're Dr. Martin Osterman's lawyer, is that right?
Yes, yes, that's right. Who is this?
Your client's in a pretty bad way, isn't he?
Look here, I'm not in the habit of speaking over the phone to people that I...
You'll speak to me, because I can prove he's innocent.
You can what?
That's what I said. I can prove it.
Well, Mr. whatever your name is, if you have any evidence,
I'd certainly be glad if you'd come down to my office and tell me...
Well, I'll send somebody else down, my secretary.
She'll want money.
Well...
Fifty thousand dollars.
Fifty thousand dollars?
You get in touch with Dr. Osterman and see if he doesn't think his life is worth that.
What you're suggesting is not only against the law, but...
I don't care about the law and I don't think Osterman will either.
I'll have somebody down there in an hour.
Can you arrange it by the time I get there?
Can you arrange it by then?
Well...
Possibly.
All right.
And we'll want the money in cash.
Harrison, Wittes and Forbes.
There's a young lady waiting for this call in Mr. Harrison's office.
I want to speak to her.
Oh, yes.
Hello?
Paul, Ellen.
Have they given you the money?
Yes.
Did you count it?
Yes.
All right, put Harrison on and then start for Grand Central Station.
All right, Paul.
He wants to talk to you.
Thank you.
Hello?
Mr. Harrison?
Yes.
All right, here's the deal.
Martha Lathrop was not murdered.
She committed suicide.
What? Suicide?
Suicide.
And here's the proof.
She was suffering from delusions.
She thought people were trying to kill her, poison her and so on.
Dr. Osserman confirms that, of course.
Yes, he...
What he doesn't know is that it had gone so far
she was trying out things she ate on that big parrot she had.
The macaw?
Yeah, the butler confirmed that.
Anyway, she tried out those sleeping pills on the bird before she took them.
And you'll find a dead bird in the house to confirm that.
Good heavens.
So she knew those pills were poisoned before she took them.
Martha Lathrop killed herself.
I must say they took it like a sport.
They paid up and shut up.
An hour later, Ellen and I were on a train speeding along the banks
of the Hudson River bound for California.
Oh, Paul.
Fifty thousand dollars.
Easy money.
That must be the easiest money any man ever made in his life.
Must have been about two weeks after we got to California
that I got the phone call.
Yes, Mr. Bentley?
Yeah?
My name's McNulty. I run a pet shop downtown.
You must have the wrong number.
Oh, no, no, no, I don't think so.
I got something down here you might be interested in.
A bird.
A bird?
Yeah, a macaw. Real beauty.
Got a green stripe between his eyes.
Makes him look exactly as though he's wearing glasses.
You interested?
No. No, I'm...
Oh, I could easy bring him up to show you.
I got your address.
No, I said I'm not interested.
That night I told Helen I'd found bugs in the place,
so we moved.
Two nights later I was alone and there was a knock on the door.
Mr. Bentley?
Yeah? What do you want?
I brought the bird anyway, Mr. Bentley.
I thought sure you'd want him when you saw him.
Look, I said...
Quite the time finding where you'd move to, though.
Oh, look, isn't he a beauty?
Look, I told you I...
Did you see one like him before?
Oh, they're very rare, very rare.
What made you think I'd want him?
I just thought you would.
Don't you want him?
How much?
Well, now, like I say, that's a very rare bird.
Five hundred?
Yes, that'd be all right, Mr. Bentley.
Here.
Oh. Thank you, Mr. Bentley.
And I'm sure you'll enjoy it.
Now get out.
Yes, yes.
Good night, Mr. Bentley.
There could be no doubt about it.
It was the same bird.
I opened the cage and roughed his feathers
to see if the marquise might have been painted on.
Hey!
He bit me.
But it was the same bird.
He sat there staring evilly at me through those spectacles of his,
laughing at me.
I reached in the cage again...
and rang his neck.
I wrapped the body up in a newspaper.
I got a shovel out of the garage.
I drove about five miles up Topanga Canyon
and parked in a side road with my lights out.
I went down into the canyon and started digging.
I dug like a madman.
The sweat was running into my eyes
and I was gasping for air.
Suddenly a light was shining full on my face.
All right, Bentley.
Wait, wait. The bird is dead.
I couldn't have done it.
I couldn't have killed it.
The bird is dead!
Uh, Ellen...
Ellen had nothing to do with it.
She thought I was innocent all along.
Okay, we got nothing against her.
But the bird, I...
Well, Bentley, that was what you might call
psychological warfare.
We knew you were guilty though when you bought it.
I mean, the poison.
Oh, oh, we found poison, all right.
Still traces on its beacon claws when we got there.
But there was one thing we couldn't understand
for quite a while.
Dr. Dittenauers of the Bronx Zoo finally tipped us off.
But if Martha took the poison,
I saw her give it to that bird.
I saw the bird gobble it up.
Why didn't it die?
Yeah. You see, with this nitrazine,
some birds can take that stuff by the spoonful
and it won't even phase them.
You just picked the wrong kind of poison
and the wrong kind of bird.
And so, being of sound mind
and somewhat relieved to know it,
I do hereby bequeath in this my last will and testament
to that witness here in the death house at Osceoning, New York
on this seventh day of November,
to my wife, Ellen, the sum of $48,700,
the remainder of that easy money,
hoping that the facts herein set forth
will assure her that she has a right to it,
since I will shortly, to my regret,
have earned every nickel of it.
Suspense.
Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A,
made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
This is Ken Niles presenting our Suspense Star of the Evening,
the handsomest man in Hollywood, Jack Carson.
Jack, you can stop twisting my arm now. I said it.
I suppose I'm not really the handsomest,
just one of the best looking.
Well, Jack, when it comes to looks, I'll take Hedy Lamarr.
But as an actor, believe me, Jack Carson ranks with the best.
Gee, thanks, Ken. I'm sorry about your arm.
That's all right, Jack. My arm is still in good enough shape
to give you this gift basket of fine Roma Wines
with the compliments of Roma, your host tonight.
Wonderful. That's a grand present, Ken. Why, thanks to Roma.
You folks really make me feel at home.
Well, Roma Wine has a way of doing that, Jack.
That's why your Roma gift basket includes Roma California Sherry.
When friends drop in, share with them
golden amber, fragrant Roma Sherry.
Roma Sherry's tempting nut-like taste is the favorite of hosts and guests
for afternoon or evening entertaining.
And millions enjoy Roma Sherry daily as the perfect first call to dinner.
I'll buy that, Ken.
And Jack, because Roma and only Roma
selects from the world's greatest reserves of fine wines,
Roma Sherry, like all Roma wines, is better tasting every time.
Yes, no other vintner selects for your pleasure
from so vast a treasure of good taste.
No other vintner can equal Roma in winemaking skills and resources.
No wonder more Americans enjoy Roma than any other one.
Makes sense to me, Ken. Well, I must be going.
Thanks for everything, and sincerely,
it's been a stimulating and exciting experience tonight.
I never miss suspense, and I've been looking forward
to my appearance here for a long time.
I hope you'll have me back again.
Well, thank you, Jack. We thought you were great
in your newest Warner Brothers picture,
two guys from Milwaukee, and we'll be hearing you
on your regular Wednesday night show for Campbell's Suites.
And give a listen to us next Thursday on Suspense.
We'll have Hume Cronin as our star.
I'll do that.
All right.
Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Hume Cronin
as star of Suspense.
Produced and directed by William Spear
for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California.
In the coming weeks, Suspense will present such stars
as Judy Garland, Chester Morris, Olivia de Havilland,
Cary Grant, Joseph Cotton, Roddy McDowell, and others.
Make it a point to listen each Thursday to Suspense,
radio's outstanding theater of thrill.
Suspense is broadcast from coast to coast
and to our men and women overseas by short wave
and through the worldwide facilities
of the Armed Forces Radio Service.
Stay tuned for the thrilling adventures
of the FBI in peace and war
following immediately over most of these stations.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.