WEBVTT

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Suspense!

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And now, Schenley brings you Gloria Swanson as star in radio's outstanding theater of

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thrill, Suspense, presented by Roma, that's R-O-M-A, Roma Wines for your everyday pleasure.

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Tonight, Roma Wines of Fresno, California bring you Gloria Swanson in Murder by the Book,

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a suspense play produced, edited, and directed for Schenley by William Spear for Suspense.

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I must have been asleep.

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At first I thought it was one of those dreams.

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And then I realized the phone was really ringing.

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I seemed to remember.

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It had rung before and I hadn't answered it.

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But maybe it had been only this once, ringing a long time.

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Because just as I got there, it stopped.

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Hello?

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Hello?

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I suppose I had one of my spells.

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I never could remember very well just after them, but I know I'd been working or trying

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to.

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It was my latest and I thought it would be my best.

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It was about a woman who killed her husband.

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But I'd had all kinds of trouble with the end.

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Everything was all right up until the explanation, how she did it.

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I knew of course, but somehow I just couldn't write it.

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It wouldn't gel.

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It had been going on like that for some weeks.

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Then today I must have had another spell.

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I'd been having them ever since the accident, ever since Ned was drowned.

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They'd begin with headaches.

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It would get worse and worse and I'd lie down.

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And when I'd wake up, I wouldn't remember for a while.

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Sometimes when I woke up, I wouldn't even be in the same place.

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Instead of lying on the couch or on my bed, I'd be sitting up in a chair or at my typewriter

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once I even found myself sitting in a car out in the garage.

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It was a strain of everything, of course.

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That's why I started going to Dr. Winter.

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And now it seemed as though my poor nerves were fated.

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One shock after another, because now Dr. Winter was dead.

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You see, he'd been murdered.

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Yes?

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Emily?

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Yes?

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This is Harry, Harry Bailey.

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Where have you been?

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Why?

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I've been right here, Harry.

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Why don't you answer your phone?

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I've been trying to get you all afternoon.

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I must have been asleep.

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How's the book coming?

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Oh, not very well, I'm afraid, Harry.

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Still stale?

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I guess so.

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I'm awfully sorry, Harry.

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I know I promised it to you weeks ago, but...

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Forget it.

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Those things happen.

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Listen, Emily, I've got a great little proposition for you.

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It'll make you some money, it'll get your mind off the book for a while, and it'll be

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worth a million dollars worth of publicity for us.

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What's the catch?

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Well, I was talking to young Hayes.

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He practically runs the old man's newspaper chain for him now, you know.

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And he wants you to cover the Winter case for the whole syndicate.

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Oh...

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Now, wait a minute before you make any snap judgments.

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In all the time I've been your publisher, I've never given you a bump steer yet, have

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I?

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But, Harry, I'm not a reporter.

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That's just it.

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You write it from your point of view, the way it looks to the country's foremost woman

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detective story writer.

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The clues, the evidence, how it all fits together.

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Truth is stranger than fiction, and so on.

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You see what I mean?

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Well, oh, I don't know.

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You see, I was his...

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I was a patient of his, Harry.

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All right, all the better.

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Famous man murdered in small resort town.

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Just so happens, famous woman mystery writer lived in same small town.

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Even was murdered man's patient.

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Knows everybody by their first names, and so forth and so on.

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Emily, this will put your name in headlines in every city in the country.

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I know, that's the trouble.

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You see, well, what will Cora say?

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Well, why?

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What's it to Cora?

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Well, I'll grant you she may have had a slightly exaggerated idea of his importance, but after

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all, she was his man Friday for the past year.

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And now to have her own mother, stepmother, anyway, writing it all up in the papers and

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making capital out of it.

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Don't be silly, Emily.

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Somebody's got to write it, and you'll do it with sympathy and honesty and understanding.

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What's the greatest thing that could happen as far as getting a fair break in the papers

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is concerned?

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And it's a chance in a lifetime for you, Emily, no kidding.

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Oh, I'd like to, as I say.

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All right, Harry, I'll do it.

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Have a girl.

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Now listen, I'll have Hayes draw up the contracts right away.

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Anything you say, Harry.

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As well.

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I'll be in touch.

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Right now.

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Good night, Harry.

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Hello, Mother.

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Hello, darling.

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Who was that?

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Harry Bailey.

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He wants me to cover the winter case with a Hayes syndicate.

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He what?

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I told him I would.

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Oh, Mother.

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Oh, Mother, how could you?

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Why not, Cora?

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Because, because it's bad enough that he's dead without dragging it through the papers

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all over again.

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But it will be in the papers anyway, darling.

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And as Harry says, at least I can give it sympathy and understanding.

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Sympathy and understanding.

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By Cora.

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Please, Mother, please don't do it.

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Stay out of it.

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We'll only get more heartaches out of it, that's all.

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Why, Cora?

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Why, you almost sound as though you were afraid.

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Are you afraid of anything?

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Afraid?

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All right, then maybe I am.

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Maybe that's just what I am.

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Afraid.

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I had never really understood, Cora.

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She was Ned's child, not mine.

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I was only her stepmother.

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Not that we weren't the best of friends, but she'd always been a little strange.

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More like a mother, I imagine.

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And then the shock of losing Ned and this on top of it.

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There were times when she seemed almost in a daze.

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It was hard to blame her.

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The next day Harry phoned to say the contracts were all in order

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and I was to report to Lieutenant Hahn of the Homicide Bureau

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who would permit me to interview the girl they were holding for the murder.

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And in general act as my guide, philosopher and friend.

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But upon appearing at his office, I found a gentleman with his hat on his head

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and his feet on his desk who didn't bother to remove either

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and merely stared at me.

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Something?

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I'm Emily Carlisle.

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I was told to report to you, your Lieutenant Hahn.

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Uh-huh.

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I was told that you would sort of show me the ropes.

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Mm-hmm.

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I deduce from your attitude that you are not particularly pleased by the prospect.

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I cannot tell a lie. You deduce right.

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Well, isn't this nice? We're not going to get along.

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I wouldn't say that, Miss Carlisle, or is it, Mrs....?

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Miss, my married name is Wales. I was married to Ned Wales, you know.

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Ah.

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Suppose we clear the air, little Lieutenant.

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I take it the barrier between us is the old one of professional versus amateur,

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dealer in fact versus dealer in fiction,

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and you disapprove of fiction.

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No, I got nothing against detective stories or detective story writers.

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I even read them myself once in a while for laughs.

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Well, that is encouraging.

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What?

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To find that you can not only read but laugh.

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Heh. Okay.

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Then just what is the difficulty, Lieutenant?

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I don't like to see people tried in the newspapers.

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I have no intention of trying, Miss G... What's her name?

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Claire Ogilvy.

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I have no intention of trying her. All I want to do is present the facts.

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Tell the story.

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Uh-huh.

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Well, I guess you want to see her, don't you?

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Among other things, yes.

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Unless, of course, you have something better to do.

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Oh, no, no. You're on my assignment from now on.

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I'm in the dog house.

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Well, I can think of less appropriate places.

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Heh. Okay.

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Why?

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This is a big case.

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National sensation, special prosecutors, hullabaloo in the papers,

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special feature writers like you.

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Yes?

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And I'm in a minority of one around here, so nobody likes me.

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Stop being cryptic, Lieutenant.

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Uh, what are you driving at?

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They've got a big thing on their hands and they want a conviction.

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I don't agree.

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About what?

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About the girl.

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You see, uh, I think she's innocent.

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That was interesting.

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The girl was even more interesting.

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She was about 25, a pretty girl,

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and she was lying on her bunk in the cell,

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staring up at the one dim light in the ceiling

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she didn't even look around when I came in.

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This is Miss Emily Carlisle, the writer, Claire.

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She wants to talk to you.

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I'll be back after a while, Miss Carlisle.

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Go away. Leave me alone.

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I can't, Claire. I have a job to do.

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That makes you different, I suppose.

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I know, but I still have a job to do.

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That's what they all say. They've got a job to do on me.

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Who's trying to do a job on you, Claire?

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A lot of smart people who make their living at it, like you.

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You mean that they're trying to say that you killed him and you didn't?

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I loved him, you fool. Why would I kill him? Why would I kill him?

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Why did you confess to killing him?

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He was dead, wasn't he? What difference did it make?

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That's what they wanted me to say, so what difference did it make?

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Then you didn't kill him.

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All right, I killed him. That's what you want me to say, too.

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All right, I killed him.

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I don't want you to say anything, dear.

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I just want to know what happened.

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He was killed, murdered. That's what happened.

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They say you quarreled with him.

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I dug my nails into him. I wanted to hurt him.

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There was blood on my dress, and so I burned it, and they found that.

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Then when I heard what had happened, I ran away, and they found me.

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Oh, they've got everything fixed just fine.

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I had a job to do, that's all, and they did it.

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And the sooner they get it over with, the better, and then everybody will be happy.

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Maybe even me.

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Why did you quarrel with him?

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Have you ever been in love with some man, and then one fine day you found out you were just the last of a long list of other women?

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Have you? Have you?

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Yes. As a matter of fact, I have.

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Oh. Then you know why I quarreled with him.

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Yes.

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All right, then, and I'll tell you something else, too.

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I didn't kill him, but now I wish I had. Do you hear me? I wish I had!

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Well, I suppose she told you she killed him, and you believed it.

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First she said she had killed him, and then she said she hadn't.

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You didn't answer the second part.

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She indicated you have certain evidence.

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Okay. Come in here.

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The DA's got the original sample, but pictures should give you a rough idea.

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Oh, what's that?

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A piece of a dress that was found under the bed. They matched it to the dress she burned, oh, more or less.

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And what's that plaster thing?

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Cast of tire marks. Did you read Dick Tracy?

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Oh, I've used plaster casts of tire marks myself in my books, but, you know, they look a little vague.

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They are.

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You know something, Lieutenant? I'm inclined to agree with you.

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About what?

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About the girl. I think she is innocent.

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Oh. So you can write it from the who-den-it angle, huh?

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That's as far as I'd be, Lieutenant, if you please, and a little more attention to detail.

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By the way, why is everyone so anxious to believe this particular girl did it?

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Because they think they can make it stick. Why look further? Because it's good for them.

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They make their reputations that way, just like your boss makes circulation.

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Let's face it. You and I know what Dr. Winter was like.

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There must be a dozen girls in this town who have just as much reason for killing him as this one.

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That's what I said.

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As for the confession, she's obviously an hysteric. Any good alieness could break that down.

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Oh, I said that too.

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And as for this stuff, I don't know much about tires, but this dress pattern is as common as a cotton handkerchief.

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There must be 50 of them within a mile of where we're standing right now.

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Same goes for the tires. I've told them all that.

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Then there must be something wrong with your methods, Lieutenant.

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Now, what do we deduce from all this?

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I'll tell you what I deduce.

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What?

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As a woman who's killed a man in this town, a murderess. A murderess that's still on the loose.

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For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you Gloria Swanson in Murder by the Book.

13:49.320 --> 14:02.320
Roma Wines' presentation tonight in Radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.

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Suspense, Radio's outstanding theater of thrills, is presented by Roma.

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R-O-M-A, Roma Wines.

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And now, Roma wines bring back to our New York Soundstage, Gloria Swanson as Emily Carlisle in Murder by the Book.

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A tale well calculated to keep you in Suspense.

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At first I was quite excited about the whole thing, about covering a murder case, I mean.

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It was good for me. It took my mind off myself, the book I should have been finishing and couldn't.

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And poor Ned being drowned last summer. That had been more of a strain than even I realized. I knew that now.

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Not that I wasn't terribly fond of Ned, but we hadn't been as close as we once were.

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But it had been a shock. That's why I'd been going to Dr. Winter myself.

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It is much as told me that the spells I had were a direct result of what happened to Ned.

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Oh, it shows you how tiny and yet how strange our little world can be here.

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Here I was writing up the case of Dr. Winter's murder for the newspapers.

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Of course, right away I discovered that the evidence against the girl they were holding was all circumstantial.

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And Lieutenant Hahn got me prints of the pictures.

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A piece from the dress they said she was wearing and attire marks.

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And I went out to do a little checking of my own.

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First I went to Gorman's Department Store. Actually, it's the only real store for women's things in town.

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Well, well, well, well, Miss Carlisle. Long time no see, eh?

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What can I do for you?

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I was wondering if you could identify a dress for me. A certain dress?

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A dress? Why, sure. What kind of a dress? You have mine.

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No, I don't want to buy one. I just want to find out about one.

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A particular dress. This dress that this picture was taken of. That's only a piece of it, of course.

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Oh. Oh. Oh, that.

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Yes. You've sold quite a few of them, haven't you?

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Say, I hear you're going to write up this Winter case for the papers. That right, Miss Carlisle?

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Why, yes, I am. As a matter of fact, this dress...

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Oh, I know this dress all right. We had them last spring. Sold like hotcakes. Four dozen of them.

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Did you keep any record of who you sold them to? Could I get a list?

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No. No. No complete record. Mostly cash sales, you know. Made up a partial list. That's all. A partial list.

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Well, that's what I want. That's better than nothing.

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Going into competition with the police department now, eh?

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No, I'm trying to help them, Mr. Gorman. If you'll give me...

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You better see them about that yourself, then. Lieutenant Hahn. Gave him the list three weeks ago. You better see him.

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Oh. I didn't know he had one. He never told me.

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Cops don't always tell everything they know, eh?

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You go see Lieutenant Hahn. He's the man you want to see, Lieutenant Hahn.

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I felt a little silly. Why hadn't he told me? But then, of course, I had never asked him.

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My next stop was Morton's Big Service Station on the corner of North and Main.

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They did practically all the tire business in town.

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How do, Miss Carlisle? Fill it up?

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Why, yes. I guess so. Oh, but I wanted to ask you something.

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Sure, Miss Carlisle. What is it?

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Well, you see this thing?

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It's the imprint of an auto tire, and I want... Oh, from the winter case, huh?

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The cops was already in here. I heard you was working on the case, Miss Carlisle.

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In a way. And I was trying to find out about this tire. I mean...

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Well, that tire, man, that's a 616 Goodstone. It's pretty new, too.

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You can see from this middle tread here, you see.

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I don't see how anybody could prove much by this here.

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Do you sell many of these? What did you call them?

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616 Goodstone. Oh, yeah, plenty. That's what I'm talking about.

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I don't see how you could prove much with that tire.

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You find them on all kinds of cars. I know, but...

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Look, here, you got them on your own car, Miss Carlisle.

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Same kind, 616 Goodstone. Almost new, too.

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You see what I mean? Oh, yes. Yeah, I see.

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Yeah, plenty of them kind of tires around.

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Hey, you want that tank of gas now, Miss Carlisle?

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No. No, thank you. Never mind.

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It's funny how you never notice things like tires, if you're a woman anyway.

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They did always handle things like that, and then afterwards, Cora had done it.

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Cora. And of course, as the boy had said, there were hundreds of tires like it. Hundreds.

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Cora wasn't home yet, and I wandered around the house and tried to think, but I didn't get very far.

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I was afraid one of my headaches was coming on. I decided to try and write my first article.

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But when I sat down at the typewriter, I remembered I hadn't put the cover over it the last time, and it was all dusty.

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I went to the broom closet and rummaged around in the basket we keep there for old rags.

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I just started to dust off the typewriter when I noticed it. It was the rag I held in my hand.

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It wasn't just an ordinary rag. It was a piece of a dress, and it wasn't just an ordinary dress.

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It had a cute little red and white print pattern, the kind of a dress the police said was worn by the woman who had murdered Dr. Winter.

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It was then I heard Cora coming in. Stinctively, I thrust the rag just in my hand into the desk.

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Mother, you home?

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Oh, hello, darling. Been shopping?

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Just a few odds and ends. What have you been doing?

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Oh, a little of this, a little of that.

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Um, Cora, what about the car? Won't we be needing new tires pretty soon?

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Well, now I had new ones put on all around only a little while ago. You remember?

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I'd forgotten. When was that?

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Oh, six weeks ago anyway.

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Then it was before?

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Before what?

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The murder.

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Will you stop it? Do you have to go through with this thing, Mother?

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I think it's better for me to write it than some stranger, don't you?

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If you wish.

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But it's so different from what happens in stories. For instance, I can't even remember what we were doing the night, the night it happened. Can you?

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We were home.

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Are you sure?

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Don't you remember?

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It's... isn't it silly?

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You had one of your headaches. I was in my room. You were in yours.

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Then I was asleep all evening.

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I suppose you were.

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But you don't know. You weren't with me. What a pity.

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I'll start, Topper.

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Oh, Cora.

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Yes?

21:50.320 --> 21:54.320
Whatever happened to that old print dress? It was yours, I think.

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What print dress?

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You know, with a red and white flowered print. You did have one like that, didn't you?

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I haven't seen it for quite a while.

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But it couldn't have just disappeared.

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The last time I saw it, you had it. And then I don't know what happened to it.

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I had it?

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Don't you remember?

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No. Would... would this be it, Cora?

22:15.320 --> 22:19.320
Oh. So this has all been a cross-examination, has it?

22:19.320 --> 22:21.320
There were certain things I had to know, Cora.

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But I won't stand for it, you hear? You can do anything you like about yourself, but I won't let you drag me into it. I won't.

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You were in love with him, too, weren't you, Cora?

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Yes. Yes. Now are you satisfied?

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Yes, I was in love with him. I was in love with him!

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When I woke up, the sun was shining, and I was lying on the bed in Cora's room.

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And Cora was gone.

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I made some coffee, and then I went down to see Lieutenant Hahn.

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What's the matter, Miss Carlisle? You look sort of played out.

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I had rather a restless night.

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I've been thinking about this thing, Lieutenant.

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I've been thinking about it a lot.

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Been doing a little checking up, I hear.

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I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

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I've been thinking about it a lot. Been doing a little checking up, I hear.

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Yes, Lieutenant. Why didn't you tell me you had that list about the dresses?

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Was it because you knew that someone in my house had bought one of those dresses?

23:20.320 --> 23:23.320
You're speaking of your stepdaughter, Cora Wales.

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Yes.

23:24.320 --> 23:29.320
We did know it, of course, but we knew the same thing about a couple of dozen other women. It didn't make much difference.

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Oh.

23:30.320 --> 23:32.320
Got any new ideas?

23:32.320 --> 23:37.320
Look, Lieutenant, I've been writing a new book, or trying to, about a murder.

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A woman who kills her husband. I didn't know how to finish it.

23:40.320 --> 23:44.320
Now, look, it's all sort of mixed up in my mind, but...

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you know the old theory about a murderer will always return to the scene of the crime?

23:48.320 --> 23:49.320
I don't get it.

23:49.320 --> 23:51.320
I know. Put it this way.

23:51.320 --> 23:56.320
If someone killed because the person they killed knew something,

23:56.320 --> 24:00.320
they'd have to kill anyone else who knew that same thing now, wouldn't they?

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You still going on the theory the Ogilvy girl's innocent?

24:03.320 --> 24:04.320
I know she's innocent.

24:04.320 --> 24:07.320
You know? That's pretty strong talk, Miss Carlisle.

24:07.320 --> 24:10.320
Well, call it woman's intuition. Call it whatever you like.

24:10.320 --> 24:12.320
I just know that there's someone...

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Look, Miss Carlisle, maybe I had you wrong yesterday.

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I can see you're not kidding about this thing.

24:18.320 --> 24:21.320
Not that I pretend to know what you're talking about, but...

24:21.320 --> 24:24.320
if you've really got something, you better tell Papa.

24:24.320 --> 24:25.320
No, no.

24:25.320 --> 24:26.320
You...

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I can't.

24:26.320 --> 24:29.320
You say you think somebody's going to come back to the scene of the crime.

24:29.320 --> 24:31.320
I don't know. I don't know what I think.

24:31.320 --> 24:33.320
I just know that...

24:33.320 --> 24:36.320
Look, Miss Carlisle, I don't like it. You're upset and you're frightened.

24:36.320 --> 24:37.320
No.

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I want to help you.

24:37.320 --> 24:41.320
No, no. I have to do this my own way.

24:41.320 --> 24:42.320
Do what?

24:42.320 --> 24:43.320
I don't know.

24:43.320 --> 24:47.320
Well, I can't very well use a rubber hose to get it out of you,

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but I just want you to remember that whatever I do, it's part of my job.

24:50.320 --> 24:52.320
What? What's part of your job?

24:52.320 --> 24:59.320
To see that nobody else gets killed around here, including you.

25:05.320 --> 25:08.320
I could feel the headache coming on as I left his office.

25:08.320 --> 25:10.320
I almost ran to my car.

25:10.320 --> 25:13.320
All I could think of was that I had to get home before it happened.

25:13.320 --> 25:18.320
But it was coming over me awfully fast, faster than it ever had before.

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The house was empty.

25:20.320 --> 25:23.320
I threw myself on the couch and pressed my hands over my eyes.

25:23.320 --> 25:25.320
The pain was horrible.

25:25.320 --> 25:26.320
Horrible.

25:26.320 --> 25:29.320
And then suddenly I had the feeling that I wasn't alone.

25:29.320 --> 25:31.320
That someone was standing there, standing over me.

25:31.320 --> 25:33.320
Someone I couldn't see.

25:33.320 --> 25:37.320
Someone who was crushing my brain, squeezing my temples in a kind of terrible, invisible vice.

25:37.320 --> 25:39.320
Someone who was trying to kill me.

25:44.320 --> 25:47.320
I was having a dream.

25:47.320 --> 25:50.320
Another of those horrible dreams.

25:50.320 --> 25:55.320
I was dreaming that I'd gone upstairs to Cora's room and she was there packing her things.

25:55.320 --> 25:58.320
She didn't see me or hear me.

25:58.320 --> 26:00.320
And I crept into the room very softly.

26:00.320 --> 26:03.320
It seemed as though I had a heavy poker or something in my hand.

26:03.320 --> 26:05.320
I crept up very softly behind her.

26:05.320 --> 26:08.320
I raised the poker and then she whirled around. She saw me!

26:11.320 --> 26:13.320
You knew it wasn't an accident, didn't you?

26:13.320 --> 26:15.320
You knew he didn't just drown.

26:15.320 --> 26:18.320
You knew I killed your father. I pushed him.

26:18.320 --> 26:21.320
And when I went to Dr. Winter, he found out too.

26:21.320 --> 26:24.320
Something buried in my subconscious, he said.

26:24.320 --> 26:25.320
And he made me tell him.

26:25.320 --> 26:27.320
He told you all that, didn't he?

26:27.320 --> 26:29.320
So now I'm going to have to kill you too, Cora.

26:29.320 --> 26:31.320
I'm going to have to kill you!

26:42.320 --> 26:44.320
All right, Miss Carlisle. All right.

26:44.320 --> 26:46.320
You better come along now.

26:56.320 --> 27:01.320
I hear the doctors keep talking about schizophrenia.

27:01.320 --> 27:04.320
That's a double personality, you know.

27:04.320 --> 27:09.320
They seem to think I did all those things without even knowing it.

27:09.320 --> 27:11.320
Drowning Ned.

27:11.320 --> 27:13.320
Trying to kill Cora.

27:13.320 --> 27:16.320
That's what the spells were, they say.

27:16.320 --> 27:18.320
The other personality.

27:18.320 --> 27:21.320
Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

27:21.320 --> 27:24.320
But I wish I could talk to Dr. Winter.

27:24.320 --> 27:27.320
I went to him first about the spells.

27:27.320 --> 27:31.320
He said he could cure me if I told him the truth.

27:31.320 --> 27:35.320
Only, of course, I can't talk to him now.

27:35.320 --> 27:37.320
He's dead.

27:37.320 --> 27:43.320
I killed him.

27:58.320 --> 28:04.320
In just a moment, we will hear from Gloria Swanson, tonight's star of Suspense.

28:04.320 --> 28:11.320
Presented by Roma. That's R-O-M-A. Roma wines. America's largest selling wines.

28:11.320 --> 28:15.320
Yes, more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wines.

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Taste better because Roma selects and presses only the choicest California grapes.

28:23.320 --> 28:28.320
Then these natural juices are guided unhurriedly by Roma master vintners

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and winemaking resources unmatched in America to full taste richness.

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These Roma wines are placed with mellow Roma wines of years before.

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And from these, the world's greatest wine reserves, Roma later selects for your pleasure.

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28:56.320 --> 29:00.320
Roma adds so much to your pleasure, and yet now costs so little,

29:00.320 --> 29:04.320
that you'll want to keep a supply of better tasting Roma wines on hand.

29:04.320 --> 29:08.320
Remember to ask for Roma wines, America's largest selling wines.

29:08.320 --> 29:14.320
This is Gloria Swanson. It was a great pleasure to appear on tonight's broadcast of Suspense.

29:14.320 --> 29:21.320
Next week, Suspense will originate from Hollywood, when Roma wines will bring you Vincent Price.

29:21.320 --> 29:22.320
Good night.

29:22.320 --> 29:24.320
Tonight's Suspense play was written by Robert L. Richards.

29:24.320 --> 29:29.320
Next Thursday, same time, you will hear Mr. Vincent Price as star of Suspense.

29:29.320 --> 29:32.320
Produced forcibly by William Spear.

29:32.320 --> 30:01.320
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.

