In just a moment, suspense with Madeleine Carroll.
Hello. Oh, hello, Tom. Where are you?
Thought you were driving over tonight.
Couldn't get your car started. Well, what's wrong with it?
Well, sounds like ignition trouble to me, Tom.
Why don't you call Ed's Auto Electric?
Best service station in town. He's an auto light man.
Really knows his stuff and believes in preventive service.
You know, fixes things before they happen. Carries auto light parts.
You know, auto light. Spark plugs, batteries, complete ignition systems.
Yeah, that's right, the works.
Oh, by the way, Tom, auto light has that swell high tension show on the air.
Suspense. Ever hear of it?
Well, why don't you tune in? It's coming on right now.
Suspense.
Auto light and its 60,000 dealers and service stations bring you Radio's Outstanding Theatre of Thrills.
Starring tonight, Miss Madeleine Carroll in Anton Lido's production of The Muppets.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Oh, Mr. Ballou, there's a woman outside.
She doesn't have an appointment, but she must speak to Mr. Ballou privately.
All right, I'll speak to him.
I'll lay you six to five. It's a divorce. She's got that nothing must get in the paper lure.
Will you come in, please?
Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr. Ballou.
Please sit down. Dottie, buzz me when it's half past.
Okay, Mr. Ballou.
We can't be overheard here, can we?
No. Now then, Mrs.
I'd rather you didn't take notes.
Oh, well, all right. But I do need your name.
I'll take it.
Do lawyers have any kind of code or rule against revealing confidential information?
Like priests? Yes. However, you want me to promise before I hear your case?
Yes.
All right, if it makes you feel better, I've handled hundreds of divorces.
Oh.
And never lost a patient. It is a divorce.
Yes, in a way. But he's dangerous, and there's a child.
The court's usual order is to have a child.
But he's dangerous, and there's a child.
The courts usually lean toward giving the mother custody.
I know, but Mr. Ballou, I'm in desperate trouble, I'm afraid.
You can't understand till I tell you.
Well, then?
You see, I'm English. My husband is American.
He grew up here in Boston, a very prominent family.
The Morissons. He's Dr. Paul Morrison.
Yes, I know Dr. Morrison. Oh?
That is, I've heard of him.
Then you know he's a surgeon.
I met Paul in London in 1939.
We were married very soon after we met.
And then England went to war, and Paul decided to stay in England to help out.
He was different then.
So deeply concerned over human suffering.
The war changed him. Changed him hideously.
For those first two years in London, we were happy.
Almost completely happy.
Quite suddenly, America was in the war,
and Paul had his orders to return to the American Army Medical Corps.
We spent the little time we had left at a cottage in the country.
And all the time I was trying to forget the one thing that had been praying on my mind
ever since they told me at the hospital that...
But I couldn't.
And so finally, even though it was our last day together,
I went up to London to do what I had always known someday I would have to do.
It was late afternoon when I returned.
Who is it? Oh, darling, where on earth have you been?
I'm sorry I'm so late, Paul.
Never mind about being sorry.
Come over here this instant, give me a kiss.
Want to know something?
What?
You're a heartless hussy going off and leaving me alone all day.
Our last day.
Do you think I'd have gone if it hadn't been important?
Look, darling, I'm a doctor too.
I don't know what doctor you want to see this time,
none of us can perform miracles.
I don't believe in miracles, Paul, and I didn't go to London to see a doctor.
I went to find out if we could adopt a child.
Adopt a child?
I know you've always been against the idea, Paul.
Darling, this is no time to go into a big complicated thing like that.
I'm going to be on my way home by this time tomorrow.
It's not this time tomorrow I'm thinking about, Paul.
It's all my life.
If I can't have a child of my own, then I want to adopt one.
But Sheila, I...
I sort of halfway picked out one at the orphanage today.
What?
You were a child in an air raid, and, oh, Paul, you've always wanted a boy.
I've wanted a son, yes.
But adopting a child involves certain risks.
There are fundamental laws of heredity.
Now you're being plain old-fashioned.
You can call it anything you like. It's out of the question.
Why? Give me one reason why.
You know the reasons as well as I do.
All I know is I'm a woman and I want a child.
Sheila, come here. Look at me.
Maybe I'm old-fashioned or overcautious,
but if we got a child that way,
picked him out like something on a grocery shelf,
you might feel he was your son, but he wouldn't be mine.
And the son has to be for both of us, or not at all.
I stayed on in London for more than six months after Paul left.
It was ghastly there for everyone.
As for me, I lived in a fever of loneliness, worse than loneliness.
Then my mother asked me down to the country to wait out the war with her.
It was a summer evening when I took a crowded train from Paddington,
and I sat alone in the compartment, numb with my hunger for Paul.
You must understand, that day I wasn't myself.
I wasn't accountable.
You see, I had a double kind of loneliness.
When the conductor opened my compartment door for other passengers,
I didn't even look up at first.
Here we are, missus. I'll let you in.
Oh, thank you ever so much.
Give us the window seat.
No, I want the window seat.
No, dear, no, dear, and you too.
I reckon the missus is going to want some of their fresh air for the little neighbor.
You can have my seat if you like. It doesn't make any difference to me.
Oh, it's very calm of you, miss, I'm sure.
Mum, I want to see the guards, then.
Not now, Johnny.
But, mum, you promised.
Missus, I'll let you know when we're near Reading Junction.
Oh, thank you.
Your trouble at all, missus.
I hope Mary's not taking up too much room on the seat, miss.
No, no, not at all.
Well, she's shoving and pushing me, mum.
Oh, Mary.
I'm not either. I just need more room in here.
Oh, enough, stop, you two, stop it.
Mary, stop rummaging in my carry-all. There's nothing in it to eat.
Oh, dear. Children can be such a troll.
Now watch, now, now hush.
Yes, I know you're hungry.
Can I hold him for a minute?
What, what, miss?
Mary is a pig. Mary is a pig.
Pig yourself.
Do you two like to look at pictures?
Here's a magazine with all sorts of pictures about America.
Oh, dear, dear.
My husband sent it to me.
Oh, that's cons of you, miss, I'm sure.
No, thank you, lady, thank you.
Thank you.
Well, that'll keep him quiet.
My mother ought to be too, people, that's yours.
I'll hold the baby while you fill his bottle.
What, if it won't trouble you?
Oh, no, no, I don't mind.
I sat there, scarcely breathing, looking down at the baby in my lap.
It was as though I'd never felt warmth before.
He stopped whimpering and looked up at me with very big brown eyes that seemed to hold recognition.
He's taken a real fancy to you, miss, and now mistake.
What's his name?
Jamie. It was his father's name.
He was killed last week in a bomber over Germany.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
But at least you have the children.
Oh, yes, miss.
But sometimes, I don't know, sometimes I think it would be better if I didn't have this last one.
Oh, no, you can't mean that.
It's not easy, miss, with no man to provide.
You said you were married, miss.
Do you have any children?
No, I have no children.
Oh, baby, oh.
You'd know if you had one, knowing all the things I won't be able to give him.
I can't help thinking it'd be better off if I left him on someone's doorstep, so to speak, someone well fixed like you.
You'd regret it all your life.
But it's his life I'm thinking about when I say it.
Of course, I'm not brave enough to do it, but I wish I was.
Oh, well, if wishes were horses, as they say.
We're just pulling into Redding Junction, missus, if you still want to get their cappuccino.
Oh, thank you, thank you, Johnny and Mary.
Come on, Mary, Mum's going to get us something to eat.
I want to see this pie first.
Well, you can look at the magazine when you come back.
Now, now, run along, Bussov, you'll wait for me outside.
All right, Mum. Come on, lazy.
Wait till I get my coat on.
I'll take Johnny now, miss.
I'm going to sit right here. Why don't I hold him till you come back?
Oh, I wouldn't want to bother you.
Oh, it's no bother at all.
Well, you won't have any trouble with him. He's always been a good baby.
Mum, come on, come on.
I'm coming, I'll wait. If you're sure, miss, quite sure.
Oh, yes, I'm quite sure.
Maybe you'll say what I did was wicked,
that she didn't tell me to take her child.
But I know she did.
She made her decision and I made mine.
After a few minutes, I got up and carried the baby down the corridor.
I was trembling so I was afraid I'd drop him.
I managed to get off the train and made my way across the crowded platform.
It was nearly time for the train to pull out.
Hurry up, now. Train's leaving.
I'm going to get the baby.
Hurry up, now. Train's leaving.
Then I saw the woman, her two older children coming toward me.
I stepped behind a post.
Oh, she's a pig. Mary's a wicked pig.
Too bad.
Come on, now we've got to hurry.
Now we've got to hurry.
I stood there and watched the three climb onto the train.
Then he began to move.
And it was the brakes or a train whistle.
If only I hadn't imagined it was something else.
Above the racket of the train, it sounded like...
Like a woman screaming.
For suspense, Auto Light is bringing you Miss Madeline Carroll
and the radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Hello. Oh, it's you again, Tom. Swell program, eh?
What? The name of that Auto Light service station?
Well, it's Ed's Auto Electric.
Just look for the big Auto Light sign down on Main Street.
But wait, here's more dope on Auto Light service.
Listen to Frank Martin.
Auto Light, Auto Light service stations are listed in your classified telephone directory
under Automotive Electrical Service.
And now, Auto Light brings back to a hearty welcome
to the most popular
and most popular
And now, Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage
Miss Madeline Carroll as Sheila in The Morrison Affair,
a tale well calculated to keep you in Suspense.
He suspects something's wrong, but...
Well, then make a clean breast of it. Tell him.
Oh, no, you mustn't. He mustn't ever know.
He'll kill me or Jamie or both of us.
How on earth did you make your husband believe?
That was easy.
I figured it all out on the way to Mother's.
I took a bus at Reading Junction,
then another train.
It was almost midnight when I got home
and let myself in the front door.
MUSIC
Mother was waiting up.
Is that you, Sheila?
Yes, Mother. Oh, you've had me well at home.
Sheila!
Is the fire still lit in the kitchen, Mum?
Don't ask questions now, please. He's hungry.
I'm going to heat him up some milk.
Whose baby is it? He's mine now.
What do you mean, Sheila? Whose was it?
I don't know. Here, hold him while I get the milk.
Oh, shh, baby, shh.
You mean you've adopted him?
I stole him.
Sheila! I don't ask you to understand, Mother.
I only ask you to help me
because I'm your child and because
I can't ever have a child of my own.
But Paul won't let you keep this child.
If he thinks it's his own, he will.
Oh, look, the poor little mite's starving.
Yes.
It may be years before the war's over
and I see Paul again. He'll look forward to seeing his son.
But he's bound to ask where his son was born.
He was born here.
There are records of such things, Sheila.
The date, the place, the parents, the doctor...
I know.
Mother, telephone Dr Lucas.
Dr Lucas? Why, he...
He's a charlatan. He's not even a real doctor.
Oh, does that matter?
He's greedy and that's the kind of man I need.
Tell him I want to see him tomorrow.
Because tomorrow
my son Jamie will be born.
That night before I went to bed
I cabled Paul at his last APO address.
Why haven't you answered my letters?
Or don't you like my news?
His answering cable came in the morning.
What letters? What news?
We'll phone.
It was going to be easy.
Paul had travelled so much.
New York, Baltimore, three months in the Pacific.
It would be easy to make him believe
that some of his mail had gone astray.
I waited all day for Paul's call
and for Dr Lucas.
That miserable little man took his time about it.
Ah, Mrs Morrison.
I'm late but your mother assured me
no one was ill.
No, it's about my son.
Why, I didn't hear that you had...
I'm having difficulties about his birth record.
I've lost the certificate and I need a duplicate.
Why, Mrs Morrison, I'm sure if you write to...
As a matter of fact, I want the record changed.
Changed?
I want the certificate to say that he was born here today.
Mrs Morrison.
It can be done, can't it?
It's rather difficult.
You mean it's expensive?
Yes, very expensive.
There's the risk to a doctor's reputation.
How much?
Er...
A thousand pounds.
All right.
No, I'm afraid it will have to be 1200 pounds.
All right, but that's all I can pay.
Here, you can write it out under this lamp.
One moment, I'll find the form.
Yes, here it is.
He's the son of Mr...
and Mrs Paul Morrison.
Excuse me, please.
Yes?
Go ahead, Major Morrison.
Hello? Hello, Sheila.
Paul! Paul, darling!
Where are you?
India. I turned the whole army inside out to get a priority.
Can you hear me all right?
Fine. But, darling, why didn't you answer my letters?
Well, I answered every one I got.
Then the important ones got lost or something.
You haven't heard the news?
What news?
You're... you're going to be a father, Paul.
Did you hear me, Paul?
Yes.
But, Sheila, that seems impossible.
But it's happened all the same.
Any day now, you'll have a son and heir.
Oh, you've made up your mind.
It's going to be a boy, eh?
That's what you want, isn't it?
Yes, it's what I want.
But it seems like a miracle.
I was dead certain that I...
Something wrong, Mrs Morrison?
I was cut off.
Operator! Operator!
Yes?
I was cut off. It was a call from India.
Didn't you hang up?
Certainly not. I was cut off.
Well, I'll try to get your party back.
Yes, try.
But it's all right if you don't.
What is the name of your son, Mrs Morrison?
Jamie.
Jamie Morrison.
Jamie Morrison, born June 3rd, 1940.
Born June 3rd, 1940.
June 3rd, 1942.
You know, Mrs Morrison, heredity is tricky.
There's nothing wrong with my son's heredity.
And then there's always the danger of being found out,
As long as anyone knows beside yourself.
At first, some nights I'd dream that Jamie's mother had come to fetch Jamie.
But that was only at first.
I buried my guilt.
Buried it deep.
I buried my guilt.
Four years went by.
Then the war was over, and Jamie and I sailed to join Paul in America.
The day I arrived in New York, I may have been nervous.
But I was sure at last of happiness.
As sure as I'd ever been in my life.
Oh, Paul.
Paul, darling.
My dear. Oh, I've never seen you look better, darling.
Motherhood suits you.
Is that my daddy?
Jamie.
Well, how do you do, James?
My name isn't James. It's Jamie.
Jamie?
Yes, I've always called him that. I don't know why it's a kind of nickname, I suppose.
Well, from now on, we'd better settle for James.
We Morrisons never appreciated nicknames.
Funny about his eyes.
His eyes?
I've got to look up my Mendel.
Can two blue-eyed people have a brown-eyed child?
They must. We did. No matter what Mendel says.
Well, he's positively the first Morrison with brown eyes.
But why not? He's the miracle kid.
The miracle kid.
Blue eyes. Brown eyes.
I rolled the phrases around my mind,
hunting their real meaning.
I was over-sensitive, of course, but...
But from the first day, I felt that Paul was hostile to Jamie.
Where's my miracle kid?
He's taking his nap. What do you want with him?
I'm driving down to the rifle range with a friend.
I thought I'd take James along.
Oh, but he's too young, Paul.
Too young for what?
To play with guns.
That's just why I want to take him along.
The sooner he knows how to handle guns, the better off he'll be.
Mommy! Mommy!
Mommy!
Mommy! Mommy!
Where are you, Mommy?
Here I am, Jamie.
Mommy, I fell off.
Oh, darling, darling, what's happened?
I fell off the horse. He went too fast and jumped around,
and I fell off and hurt my knee.
Yeah, I brought the iodine. He's more scared than hurt.
Oh, not iodine. Use peroxide. It won't sting.
I told you he was too young to ride.
Oh, it was a gentle horse.
Jamie lost his seat when it started to trot, that's all.
We'll do better next time, won't we, kid?
I guess so, Daddy.
There won't be a next time.
Yes, there will be, Sheila.
Jamie, go up to Mother's room.
I'll be along in a minute to fix your knee.
All right, Mommy.
There's candy in my bureau. You know where.
Yes, Mommy, I know.
Paul, what are you trying to do?
I'm trying to make my son like my son.
He's my son too, you know.
What you're doing to him, Sheila,
he's not anybody's son. He's a zombie.
I swear I'd rather see him dead than what you want him to be.
I suppose it was then that I first realized what I would have to do.
But someday, someday soon, I'd have to get Jamie away from Paul.
I was frightened.
I even began to carry a gun in my bag.
And I began to make plans.
I'd start again, build a new life for myself and my son.
Then yesterday, I knew that I'd have to hurry,
that I couldn't postpone my decision any longer.
I found out when Paul came home from the hospital,
he came directly to my house.
He was in a terrible state.
He came home from the hospital. He came directly to my room.
Ah, there you are.
I want to tell you something, Sheila.
What is it? What's happened?
A big day at the conference.
Oh, you mean the medical conference.
A psychiatrist from Chicago named Drake
read a paper on psychosomatic medicine.
Terrific. And then there was a curious report on euthanasia.
You know, mercy killing. Interesting, but extreme.
In what way?
Well, the doctor delivering the report favors
not only the mercy killing of incurables,
but also the death of the person who hates weeding out
and purifying the race by studying heredity
and eliminating those whose heredity is questionable.
A real crackpot.
Horrible.
Sheila, while his report was going on, though,
I began to wonder about you and Jamie.
About me and Jamie?
Yes. I wanted to ask you,
is there something about Jamie's heredity
that you don't want me to know?
Then I understood.
The danger was real and now.
For myself, but mostly for Jamie.
Paul was playing with me like a cat plays with a mouse.
This talk about mercy killing, heredity,
this subtle, cruel talk,
threatening me with Jamie's death,
announcing in advance the mercy killing
of a child who is inferior because he isn't a morsel.
That's why I've come to you, Mr. Ballou.
I can't risk Paul's death.
I can't risk Paul's getting custody.
I have to take Jamie away first,
far away where Paul can't reach him,
and then get a divorce.
I want you to tell me where it's safest for us to go
and get the papers I need.
Mrs. Morrison,
I promised that whatever you told me would be confidential.
I'm sorry I made that promise.
If I hadn't, I'd go to Dr. Morrison and tell him...
He wouldn't!
...that his wife carries a heavy load of guilt,
a very heavy load, and it's colouring everything she does.
You think I'm insane?
I think you have dangerous delusions.
And you won't help me?
I can't, Mrs. Morrison.
The psychiatrist might help you,
but only if you go to him now before it's too late.
Mrs. Morrison! Mrs. Morrison!
You have to go to the hospital.
Dr. Morrison said for you to come right away.
What is it, Elsa? What's happened?
It's the little boy.
Jamie! He got hold of one of his daddy's guns.
He's done it! He's killed Jamie!
Jamie was playing with it, and it went off
when it was pointed right at himself.
He's hurt bad.
Take my blood, Paul. Take it. I'll do anything.
Sheila, get hold of yourself. You're hysterical.
We have to know his blood type first.
The lab should be calling back any minute.
Paul, I'd rather you didn't operate.
Ask Dr. McDonald.
This isn't McDonald's kind of a case. I...
Don't you trust me, Sheila?
I thought you might be too nervous being his father.
Am I, Sheila?
What? Am I his father, Sheila?
Dr. Morrison speaking. All right.
It's the lab. Hello?
Yes, Brooks. It's what?
You're absolutely sure?
Did you check twice? I see.
Yes, thank you.
You gave the results of the blood test.
Paul. We can't use your blood, Sheila.
You know from the blood test?
Yes, Dr. Morrison.
Get the boy ready for operation. I'll start immediately.
Yes, doctor.
No, what, Sheila? No, don't tell me.
All I know is that your blood is type A,
and mine is type A, and James's type B.
Wait here, Sheila.
Don't do it, Paul.
Do what?
I won't let you operate. I won't. I won't.
Get Dr. McDonald, or I'll kill you.
You're out of your mind. You can't shoot that gun.
I can and I will before I let you touch Jamie.
Now that you know he's not your son...
I've always known it. You're lying.
From the first moment I saw him,
it's a proven medical fact two blue-eyed people
cannot have a brown-eyed child.
And all your cruelty was deliberate.
At first I thought you'd been unfaithful
to another man who was his father,
but the blood proves he's not yours either.
You adopted him. I stole him,
and I'm not going to lose him now.
We're all ready, Dr. Morrison. Thank you.
Wait here, Sheila. Paul, I warned you.
Mrs. Morrison, don't!
He fell like a sack of dry leaves,
and liquid the color of dark grapes
seeped through and spread slowly
across the front of his surgeon's jacket.
Then people came and dragged me away.
I've seen no one since except those who guard me
and my lawyer, Mr. Ballew, who came to tell me
that Paul was dead and that Jamie would live.
The operation was performed successfully
by Dr. MacDonald.
Then Mr. Ballew began to talk about how to
defend me against the charge of murder.
Why not tell him the truth?
Let me tell you the truth, Mrs. Morrison.
After you shot Dr. Morrison,
he could have lived.
He had to choose between his life and Jamie's.
What could he do for Jamie?
The bullet had lodged in Jamie's brain.
It would take hours to find a brain specialist
as good as Dr. Morrison.
But he didn't operate.
He ordered them to take him to the operating room.
Then for an hour and a half, he stood at Dr. MacDonald's
elbow directing every move of his scalpel.
When the operation was over,
Dr. Morrison was dying.
But Jamie would live.
And so, in my defense,
Mr. Ballew intends to plead insanity.
But I wasn't insane then.
Nor am I now. I know that.
I'm nearly a selfish woman.
Everything I did, I did for myself, not for Jamie.
I can see that now.
But Paul gave his life for his son.
And no matter what happens to him now,
Jamie had a father.
Thank you, Madeline Carroll, for a splendid performance.
Miss Carroll will return in just a moment.
Hello, Tom. Yeah, I knew it was you.
What?
He just called to say thanks for taking care of Jamie.
He's a good man.
Listen to that.
You haven't proven your own defeat yet.
Did I do well in that?
Now, John, do it.
Um...
you $400,000.
Is that all that you have to say?
Kesho, it's over.
And good luck.
First three seconds, Tom would have won.
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And keep in mind, wherever you go,
Auto-Lite means spark plugs,
Ignition engineered spark plugs,
Auto-Lite means batteries,
Stay full batteries,
Auto-Lite means ignition system,
The lifeline of your car.
And now here again is Miss Madeleine Carroll.
It's been a great pleasure to appear with this fine cast on Suspense.
It's a program I've always enjoyed hearing,
and I'm looking forward to next week's story,
in which that rising young star, Burt Lancaster, appears.
It's another gripping study in...
Suspense.
Madeleine Carroll appeared through the courtesy of 20th Century Fox,
whose current production is The Luck of the Irish,
starring Anne Baxter and her own power.
Tonight's Suspense play was written by Pamela Wilcox,
with music composed by Lucian Marlech and conducted by Lud Gluskin.
The entire production was under the direction of Anton M. Lieder.
In the coming weeks, Suspense will present such stars as Gregory Peck,
Edward G. Robinson, John Garfield and others.
Make it a point to listen each Thursday to...
Suspense, Radio's outstanding theater of thrills,
and next Thursday, same time, hear Burt Lancaster.
This is the Auto Light Suspense show.
Drive slowly.
Death and danger travel in fast company.
Good night. Switch to Auto Light.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.