Yes, Roma wines taste better because only Roma selects from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure.
That's R-O-M-A, Roma wines. Those better tasting California wines enjoyed by more Americans than any other wine.
For friendly entertaining, for delightful dining.
Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant as Roma wines bring you Agnes Moorhead in a remarkable tale of...
Suspense!
We were driving too fast. But I knew that if I slowed down at all I would begin to tremble.
And so although the road was torturous, climbing steeply up the mountain, I kept my foot pressed hard on the gas pedal.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see that my husband was looking quietly into the green valley far below.
He looked peaceful now. He had made his speech about driving too fast.
I'd asked him to be quiet. And now he was quiet.
I wondered what he would do if I stopped the car and told him right then that we were driving up to the Johnson house so that I might kill him.
I parked the car on the highway at the foot of the dirt road leading up to the house.
We walked quickly behind the heavy trees. My husband stopped once to wipe the dust off his shoes.
I hurried him on and we soon arrived at the front door.
As planned I'd forgotten the key. I did open my purse and look however.
And that gave me the opportunity to release the safety catch on the gun I'd borrowed from my husband's belongings.
I suggested that we try one of the windows. He agreed.
And we slowly made our way through the underbrush that was growing wild at the side of the Stucco building until we reached a first floor window.
The window was set high above the ground and my husband had to stretch his body to reach it.
I waited until he had his back to me with his hands raised high in the air reaching for the window frame.
Then I opened my purse, took out the gun, aimed very carefully at a spot just in the center of his left shoulder blade and pulled the trigger four times.
He didn't fall right away. He had had his fingers over the window ledge ready to unfasten the catch when the bullets hit him.
With some terrible effort he dug his nails into the Stucco and tried to keep from dying.
I couldn't move. I wanted to scream but my throat felt paralyzed.
He tried to turn his face and look at me.
I tried to look at him but he didn't move.
He tried to turn his face and look at me. But he hadn't that much life left.
At last he's dead.
I stopped screaming finally. Felt better for it.
I bent and looked at my husband's body. He was quite dead.
I wiped off the gun, his gun and threw it behind an acacia bush.
Then I walked back to the car slowly and carefully removing any of my footprints which showed in the loose dirt of the road.
At the car I emptied some cigarette butts from the dashboard ashtray onto the road.
Dusted my shoes. Then turned around and drove home.
I put the car in the garage, went in and had my shower and lay down in the library to wait.
A few minutes after the grandfather clock struck eleven the telephone rang.
Hello?
Miss Skinner? This is she.
This is Jonathan Brown, Sheriff's office. I have some bad news for you.
My husband? Yes ma'am. He's been killed.
Miss Skinner? Hello Miss Skinner? You alright?
I waited quietly for a moment. Then I let the phone fall to the floor.
I listened until I heard Jonathan Brown hang up. Then I replaced my telephone on its stand.
Went into the kitchen for some ice which I put in a large Turkish towel.
I then arranged myself carefully and attractively on the living room to then and waited again.
Miss Skinner? In here please.
Oh yes. You alright Miss Skinner? That was a stupid thing for me to do, breaking the news that way.
I'm alright.
I came over as soon as you dropped the phone.
I felt faint suddenly.
No wonder.
Tell me what happened Mr.
Jonathan Brown, Sheriff's office.
Mr. Brown please sit down.
Thank you.
Well, your husband was up at the Johnson house this afternoon as well as we can figure. Up there on the side of the mountain you know.
He must have been trying to get into the window and somehow somebody well, shot him.
I'm sure he wants me to tell you.
I'm sorry. Go on please.
Well, we looked around the place, couldn't see anything. Though we found the, you know, weapon that was a gun.
Found it in the brush near where he was and no footprints or anything except tire marks down the main highway and a bunch of cigarette butts where someone must have been sitting in the car, waiting you know.
Those were my tire marks.
You was up there?
Well, I had an appointment to meet my husband this afternoon at the foot of the road leading up to the Johnson house.
He had said that he had had some business to attend to and would get a ride with this other person.
He was very mysterious about it.
I waited for an hour or more at the foot of the road.
You were so clever to recognize the meaning of those cigarette stuff.
Well, yes.
When he didn't come I thought perhaps I was mistaken about the appointment and so I drove home.
When I think of perhaps I'd gone up to the house I might have saved my poor dear husband's life.
No, no, no, no. Don't shock. I know.
I'm all right. I'm all right. I'll be all right.
Now don't you worry about a thing, Mrs. Skinner. The sheriff's office will round up the guilty party or parties and have them brought to trial, you know.
As I'm sure.
I slept well that night for the first time in ten years.
My husband during his lifetime had snored loudly and steadily and during his later years he had acquired the nervous and distressing habit of grinding his teeth in his sleep.
This night all was quiet and peaceful in the house.
In my house. And as I say I slept beautifully.
The next few days were also beautifully quiet.
A few photographers and newspaper men but they were kind and gentle and didn't make too much bother.
Finally Mr. Jonathan Brown called to say that he would send a car for me on Friday morning.
The next day it turned out to take me to the car in his inquest.
Small courtroom was crowded and almost everyone there eyed me with great sympathy.
The inquest proceeded evenly. There was as yet no evidence as to the identity of my husband's murderer.
I again stated that I had left the tire marks and cigarette stubs at the foot of the road that led to the Johnson house.
No I hadn't heard a shot.
No my dear husband had no enemy.
Then I've had this blackboard brought to court so that I might show the position of the body when found.
I think it might be of interest. Very well proceed.
The body was found just below the first story window on the left side of the house.
The dead man was obviously trying to gain admittance you know.
He didn't die immediately as I will show you.
But stayed alive long enough to try to keep himself from falling.
Since marks from each of his fingernails were found running down the side of the building.
Here then is the window sill and here are the marks of his fingernails.
And here is the spot where the body lay when it was discovered.
And here is the house.
As he talked he watched me.
I didn't know why until I heard the first scrape of the chalk against the blackboard.
For one awful moment it was the sound that had been made by my husband as he tried so desperately to hold himself alive.
I found myself tightly holding the wooden table in front of me.
My arms and body tears trying not to faint.
Since a large deposit of the dried stucco from the building was found under each of the victims fingernails.
I believe I can best illustrate the manner of the victims last moments with a physical illustration.
Suppose I am the victim you know and this blackboard is the side of the building.
We hear the gunshots and then the victim slowly sinks to the ground.
Oh please, please I can't sir. Please don't make me die.
For suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Agnes Moorhead in the 13th sound.
Roma Wines presentation tonight in radio's outstanding theatre 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, Agnes Moorhead as Mrs. Sally Skinner and William Johnstone as Jonathan Brown in the 13th sound.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I must have been taken home from the inquest for the next consciousness I had I was lying on the guest bed.
In the corner sat Mr. Jonathan Brown. He must have seen my eyes open.
Ah, feeling better?
Yes, thank you. I'm terribly sorry.
That's all right. Quite a strain, you know.
Yes, it was quite a strain.
I asked whether it would be all right to go on without you. Everybody seemed to grieve, you know. So he finished up while the doctor looked you over.
What happened?
Oh, he said you'd be all right. Shock.
I meant about my husband.
And his death at the hand of a person's unknown, you know.
Is there anything further I must do?
Not a thing, Mrs. Skinner.
You've been very kind.
It's a terrible thing happened to you.
Well, I'm going now if there's nothing more you need from me.
No, no, nothing, thank you.
Well, goodbye then and don't you worry. We'll find who did it, you know.
After he had left I had the time to be angry at myself for my behavior at the inquest.
I was the people of Thoth.
To fade only from the noise of a piece of chalk on a blackboard.
I wondered if Mr. Brown had suspected anything because as I remembered back to earlier afternoon, he had been watching me as he drew those silly little diagrams on the board.
He hadn't been looking anywhere else.
Not at the coroner or at any other reporters, not even at what he was doing.
He'd been looking at me.
Well, of course he was looking at me.
He was showing his sympathy.
I slowly allowed myself to return to my former position in the community.
I was able now to do the things I'd always wanted to do but had been restrained from doing by a certain attitude of my husband.
He had never liked entertaining.
He believed that we should belong to the country club and take a civic pride in the fact that our home was the largest and most beautiful in the community.
In fact, it was his desire to sell our lovely home that caused me to finally take that complete and drastic step.
The first evening that I accepted an outside invitation was for one of the Wednesday night evenings of bridge at our club.
At my table were the president with the bank and his wife.
As I sat down I noticed that a window pane on my left was shining.
Good evening, Miss Gray. Good evening.
Well, I'm afraid I'm the culprit here.
Playing ball with the kids this afternoon and I threw one right through your lovely window.
Oh, really?
But I got old Sam here. I brought him along with no pane of glass and he'll fix us up ship-shaped no time at all.
Go ahead, Sam. Right over there.
Yes, Mr. Brown. Sure. Don't mind me, folks. I'll be through here in just a jiffy.
Oh, incidentally, Miss Skinner, I always meant to ask you whether or not you minded noises especially.
Sharp noises like you see chalk on a blackboard.
I don't understand. Chalk on a blackboard?
At the end test, I always wondered about it. You faded just when the chalk was scratching across the blackboard.
I don't remember hearing. I'm afraid I faded before you drew any diagram.
I think that's what you were planning to do, draw a diagram.
That's what I was planning to do, yes, ma'am.
Yes. Does he have to do that?
There's something wrong, Mrs. Skinner.
Does he? Does he have to do that? I can't. I can't. I didn't know.
I stayed at home for the next few days. I canceled all appointments.
The heat really was unbearable.
In October, I resumed my activities. I began to see people again.
I grew especially interested in chamber music.
Through my activity, I arranged a musical evening to be given by a group of which I was the second vice president.
They planned the formation of the Philharmonic Society eventually.
I went to the musical alone and I was studying my program when...
Ah, is this seat taken?
Good evening, Mr. Brown.
Well, Mrs. Skinner, good evening. Didn't recognize you, ma'am.
Well, I was to be joined later.
Well, I'll just sit here a moment then.
You know, I'm terribly sorry about the other night.
It's really nothing at all for you to be sorry about.
Very kind of you to say that, you know, but I do feel guilty as all sin, being the cause of getting sick like that.
Oh, really, Mr. Brown, I wasn't sick at all.
Why?
Mr. Gregg told me I'd probably been affected by the heat.
It was very close to the club that night, if you'll remember.
Yes, yes, well, it was.
Well, just so I don't feel it, it was my fault, you know.
No, I don't want you to feel that it was your fault.
That's very kind of you, you know.
If you don't mind, I'll stay here until whoever holds the seat gets it, all right?
That's all right.
We crave your indulgence and a certain open-mindedness
for giving a fair chance to the first piece with which we are going to open our program this evening.
The title of this piece is The Thirteenth Sound, and the composer is young Julian Carillo.
This piece, because of the unorthodox nature of it, created a veritable furor in New York City some weeks ago
on the occasion of its premiere.
It's what you'd call, I guess, modern music.
And the really unusual thing about it is that the instruments, instead of playing as they usually do
in Mozart, Haydn and such classical veins, play in quarter tones.
Now, a quarter tone is somewhere in between the other tones, such as we are accustomed to hearing.
So on this following piece, the instruments are not playing, as you would think, out of tune.
This is the way it is supposed to sound. Thank you.
So now, the various members of the quartet will tune their various instruments into these quarter tones.
And this is quite a short piece, but I know you're going to like it. Tune up, gentlemen.
This should be very interesting, I think so, Miss Skinner. Thirteenth sound. Have you heard it?
No, no, I haven't.
It's too hot again, Miss Skinner. It does get stuck in here.
I mean, it's hot in here.
You're terribly painted. Show me your arm.
I'm colored. Excuse me. Will you let me out?
I am... will you please excuse me?
I left Mr. Brown sitting there. My man drove me home.
I never liked modern music. I locked all the doors and I turned on all the lights.
And then I did a foolish thing. I found a hammer and a piece of board.
And I beat, and beat, and beat, and beat on the board with a hammer as hard as I could.
And finally the heavy, steady, safe pounding that I made drove the other sharp, shrill, awful noise from my mind.
Then I turned out all the lights and opened the windows and went to sleep.
I didn't sleep well, but I didn't stay awake either.
I hadn't set the alarm next to my bed, and when I first awoke the next morning, for a minute I couldn't remember what had happened.
I felt grudged. Got out of bed and put on this lovely chartreuse, brocade housecoat and started downstairs.
The sun was shining outside. It was a beautiful day. Not the sort of day when you could be disturbed by unrelated noises.
I felt grand when I got downstairs. Then I heard...
What? I didn't know. I didn't care. I knew only that I had to stop it before it happened to me again.
Stop it! Please stop it!
Huh? Pardon me, Miss...
Get out of here! Get out of here! Who told you to do your work here? Did someone tell you to make that noise near my house?
Why, no, ma'am. The lawnmower, the dirty thing wasn't cut and I had to shut it.
Get out! Go on! Get off this property! It's one!
Yes, ma'am.
Don't ever come back! Do you hear? Don't ever come back! Don't!
Morning, Miss Skinner. Lovely day.
I turned and ran right back to my living room. I stood shivering there in a beam of sunlight.
I waited for him to come bursting into the room after me. I waited.
And then the doorbell rang. Who is it?
It's Mrs. Gray.
Oh, just a moment.
Come in.
What, did I disturb you?
Oh, no, no.
Then I will come in. But I can only stay a minute.
Would you like some coffee?
Oh, no, thank you. When I was so sick, you remember, the doctor absolutely forbid me having any more coffee.
Oh, I didn't know that. Oh, sit down, please.
Do you drink much coffee?
No, why do you ask?
Well, I thought perhaps your recent attacks might have been caused by that.
Mr. Gray is a great one for aspirin and salt tablets.
I think it's much simpler than that cut out coffee.
Well, I think my attacks were just caused by this heat. I planned a sea voyage.
Oh, how splendid. That will certainly fix you.
You know, I don't mean to be disrespectful, heaven knows.
But perhaps on the boat you might meet a fine young man who will.
Perhaps.
When do you plan to leave?
This afternoon. I'm leaving for New York.
Oh, you can't.
Pardon?
For the clubhouse, the unveiling ceremonies of this afternoon.
Oh, I forgot.
Well, you simply can't leave. We have no one who can replace you on the speaker's platform.
Oh, well, I... well...
Well, all right then, Mrs. Greg. I'll stay for the ceremony.
I drove to the new clubhouse with Mr. and Mrs. Greg.
The building was really very lovely.
It was almost ready for occupancy.
We were unveiling a heroic figure which graced the entranceway.
Our speaker's platform was built alongside the figure,
and quite a few of the members and their families were sitting on the wooden benches in the front patio,
waiting for the ceremonies to begin.
Isn't this exciting?
Oh, yes, yes, very.
You ladies have done a marvelous job.
Oh, thank you. Thank you.
Ah, what's that fellow doing up there?
Why, where?
See, up on the roof there. That's Rockman.
Oh, yes.
Makes me nervous to see people at such heights.
Off the toast bed. I guess he knows his business, I imagine.
Yes, I suppose he...
I'm very anxious to hear your little talk, Mrs. Skinner.
Thank you.
I think you've managed that, Marvoli, since you're unfortunate.
Well, you understand.
Yes, yes, thank you.
Well, I think we should get on with it, eh?
Well, I believe it'll be only a few more minutes.
What?
What is it?
Oh, good heavens, look, that's Workman.
He's going far.
Can't someone catch him? He's hanging on the ledge.
Some of the men are running up there now.
But they've got to catch him.
Oh, they will, they will, don't they?
They've got to catch him.
What?
They saw him.
Oh, no.
Turn your eyes, ladies. Turn your eyes.
I... I did it.
I did it.
Why, nonsense.
I did it.
You had nothing to do with it.
I did it. I did it. I did it.
Why, he's not hurt at all.
I did it. I did it.
Well, do not worry.
Listen to me. Listen to me.
I understand.
I can't even...
Make some noise.
Did you hear that? I can't even...
I can't even...
I know, I know, man.
It's going to be all right, you know.
You just come along with me.
Did she sign it, Jonathan?
Mm-hmm.
Yeah. Shame.
Yeah.
People do funny things.
Yeah.
Did you pay the fella?
Mm-hmm.
He's clever.
Very clever.
Sure is.
I really thought he was falling off of that building.
Used to be an acrobat.
Oh.
So how did he make that noise?
Yeah.
Holding ten-pony nails in his hand.
Yeah.
He was holding ten-pony nails in his hand.
Yeah.
He was holding ten-pony nails in his hand.
Yeah.
He was holding ten-pony nails in his hand.
Yeah.
He was holding ten-pony nails in his hand.
He scraped them along the face of the building as he slid down.
Yeah.
Did you think of that too?
Mm-hmm.
Made an awful racket.
Mm-hmm.
Pretty.
Nice lady, you know.
Yeah.
What the devil are you doing?
Hmm?
Oh.
Fixing my nails, I guess.
Well, cut it out, will you?
Sure.
What's the matter with you?
The noise makes me nervous, I guess.
You know?
I'm not going to be able to get out of here.
I'm going to be able to get out of here.
Suspense.
Presented by Roma Wines.
R-O-M-A. Roma.
America's favorite wines.
This is Ken Niles.
Returning for a curtain call with a brilliant star of tonight's suspense play, Agnes Moorhead.
Apparently, Agnes, you're not superstitious.
Accepting the lead in a play called The Thirteenth Sound on February 13th?
Ha ha.
Superstitions are no phobia with me, Ken, but I do have one.
What is it?
I refuse to give a party for 13 people.
Yes, but even a 13th guest is in luck, Agnes, when you serve Roma ports.
Ruby red, fragrant, nectar-tasting, and
nectar-sweet Roma California port adds warmth to the welcome for everyone.
And Roma port is so easy to serve.
You simply pour and hospitality reigns.
Yes, Ken, Roma port does make entertaining a pleasure.
Not only that, Agnes, there's a difference you can taste in all Roma wines.
And this better taste begins with the choicest grapes in all California.
Then, Roma's unmatched skill and winemaking resources guide these luscious grapes unhurriedly
to tempting taste perfection.
Later, Roma places this rich taste treasure with Roma wines of years before.
And finally, Roma selects from the world's greatest wine reserves for your pleasure.
Well, it's easy to see why Roma wines taste better, Ken.
Yes, Agnes, and here's the most conclusive proof of all.
A gift basket of Roma wines for you and your guests to enjoy with a compliment of Roma.
The greatest name in wine.
I'm delighted, Ken.
Thank you very much.
And good night.
Tonight's Suspense Play was written by Kathy and Elliot Lewis.
Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Ann Baxter as star of Suspense.
Produced and directed by William Spear for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California.
Stay tuned for the thrilling adventures of the FBI in Peace and War, following immediately
over most of these stations.
In the coming weeks, Suspense will present such stars as James Stewart, William Bendix,
Eddie Bracken, and others.
Make it a point to listen each Thursday to Suspense, radio's outstanding theatre of thrills.
This is DBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.