In just a moment, Auto Light presents Suspense with Edmund O'Brien and Anne Blythe.
Say Harlow.
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Naturally, Harlow. Let's hear some more about it later. Here's Suspense.
Suspense.
Auto Light and its 60,000 dealers and service stations bring you Radio's outstanding theater of thrills.
Starting tonight, Mr. Edmund O'Brien and Miss Anne Blythe in Anton Leder's production of Muddy Track.
A tale well calculated to keep you in Suspense.
They say to me, don't be bitter, Harry. I'm not bitter.
They say, forget it, Harry. That I can't do.
I'll never be able to forget it, or her.
How did it happen? Well, like practically every important thing that ever happens to anybody, it just happened.
I was in the bar, see?
Got a match? I said, got a match.
Who, me?
What's the matter? Girl shy or just match shy?
I thought you were talking to the bartender. Here you are.
Well, glad we got that straightened out. What are you drinking?
Coke. At this hour.
Clear me up on something, angel face. Are we trying to get acquainted with each other?
You're cute.
I'm broke, flat, busted. Go pick yourself another target.
Have a drink on me.
I only take a round when I can buy one back.
I'm not trading. I'm buying.
You could have fooled me.
I repeat, you're cute.
Eddie, give my friend a bourbon. What's the matter? Been playing the nags?
You read minds, too, huh?
Simple. Tracks open. That's a good suit you got on, and you've been nursing that coke for 20 minutes.
Besides, your racing form showing.
That's pretty good. How's my future look?
Depends. What do you do for a living?
I'm glad you waited for me, Brandy.
Augie.
I like you to wait for me. When you don't wait, it makes me unhappy.
Now, there was a guy I wouldn't want to see unhappy.
He was friendly, all right, but he was overdoing it.
Everything about him was too set, too sharp.
Clothes, manicure, even his eyes, like two blue marbles.
But, Augie, you said you wouldn't be here till 10.
So? Who's this guy?
His name's Clark, Harry Clark.
Brandy, go powder your nose.
I... Okay, Augie, you don't have to get in a nuptial, Roy.
You're always getting so...
What were you talking to Brandy about?
No kidding. Is that her name?
What were you talking about?
Believe it or not, a job.
Oh, so you're looking for a job. Where are you from?
Out of town.
Tell me, you particular what you do?
Why, what's the job?
Answering the phone.
That can't pay much.
5% of the take.
What take?
I'm Augie Pershing. I run the books in this town,
and I've got a new set-up for you if you want it.
Ah, a bookie, huh? It's a new one for me.
Well, I don't know if... Say, why would you want to give me a job?
You want the job or don't you?
Well, since you put it that way, Persian, we're in business.
Eddie, a couple more drinks.
Where are you drinking? Bourbon?
On second thought, I think I'll switch to Brandy.
Not a good idea.
Brandy lovers die young.
I'll take that chance.
You've got a lot of nerve, ain't you?
Yeah, and that's all I've got. I'm flat broke.
How do you feel about advances?
I don't mind them at all, so long as you keep them in cash.
I should have walked out then. It was too easy.
But I couldn't kick too much.
I had 25 of Pershing's bucks in my pockets.
I guaranteed he'd pick me up in the morning like he said.
It was punctual. At 10.30 a.m. sharp,
a big black sedan pulled up in front of my rooming house.
Persian was all smiles as we drove across town to a small apartment house.
He took me up to the third floor to apartment 3B,
opened the door and handed me the key.
Well, this is where you work.
Here's the scratch sheets and there's the fold.
Ah, nice place.
By the way, who's Eleanor Grayson?
Why?
Well, that's the name over the bell.
Oh, she lives in this apartment.
She know you're using the place?
You just answered the phone.
Yeah, but suppose she came in?
Look, you get here at 11 and pull out at 4.
She'll never see you.
That's the way I want it all the time, understand?
But how do I...
She thinks Brandy uses the apartment.
Does she?
You're too nosy and you talk too much.
Is that advice?
Yeah, let's call it that.
The boys have passed the word around about the new phone.
You ought to be getting action pretty quick.
Write up all the bets you take.
I'll call you up from time to time with results.
So long.
It was one of those small apartments with a pull-down bed,
but it was kind of nice.
The sun came in at the windows of the living room.
I had it in mind to explore the kitchen for a cup of coffee,
but Persian was right.
The word had got around.
Hello?
This is J.K.
Give me five win, five show on oatmeal
and a third at Pimlico.
Five win, five show, oatmeal.
Okay, J.K.
By the way, how's the track there?
Let's see.
Pimlico, raining, but still fast.
Okay, thanks.
I was in business.
I still had the coffee on my mind,
but I had something else on my mind, too.
The picture of a girl smiling at me alongside the telephone.
It was good to have company,
even if it was only a picture frame,
because I was beginning to develop a queer, creepy feeling.
And again, I thought, maybe I ought to get out.
But they kept me too busy.
It was almost 1 o'clock,
and I still hadn't had that cup of coffee.
The phone kept ringing,
and the girl in the picture kept smiling.
I felt kind of cold all of a sudden,
maybe because I hadn't eaten all day.
I headed for the kitchen thinking there'd be some eggs, at least,
maybe some bacon.
There was one of those swinging doors to the kitchen.
I pushed it open.
She was lying at the end of the kitchen,
near the sink, all lumped up,
her blond hair matted with blood.
I grabbed a stove to keep my legs from buckling.
I was glad I hadn't eaten,
but I turned her over just the same.
It was Brandy.
She was dead.
So that's why Augie Persian hired me,
and I'd called him a sucker.
For Suspense, Autolite is bringing you
Edmund O'Brien and Anne Blythe
in Radio's outstanding theatre of thrills, Suspense.
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And now, Autolite brings back to a Hollywood soundstage
Mr. Edmund O'Brien as Harry and Miss Anne Blythe as Eleanor
in Muddy Track, a tale well calculated to keep you in.
Suspended.
Brandy looked a whole lot different
than she had last night.
Her mascara had mixed with tears,
and her face was bruised.
Somebody had given her the backhand treatment.
It had all the earmarks of a fine Persian hand.
But the thing that had put her out of circulation
was a blow on the back of her head.
So Augie Persian had fitted me out for a murder rap.
That's why he was so anxious to hire a guy
he didn't know anything about.
The doorbell.
Who could that be?
I looked around.
I was three floors up, no fire escape, no back door.
All I could do was hope they'd go away.
Too late.
Oh, I didn't think anybody was here.
What do you want?
Well, this is the day I clean up and change a little.
Not now. You can let it go until tomorrow.
But I don't usually come here tomorrow.
I said let it go.
Hi, who are you?
Never mind, never mind. Here's a dollar for your trouble.
Oh, thank you, but I don't think I should take it.
Make it next week.
I had to force myself to wait there
till I could be sure she'd gone away to clean another apartment.
Finally, I let myself out.
Carefully.
It was good to get out on the street again.
People, kids.
And somewhere, somebody laughed.
If I hurried, I had a fair chance of getting out of town.
I could keep out of Persians way.
I walked all the way to my rooming house when the thought hit me.
It stopped me cold.
Fingerprints.
I'd left them all over the place.
I started back on the double.
Ran all three flights up to the apartment.
Opened the door where the key Persian had given me.
Fingerprints.
I had to get rid of them all.
I picked up the phone, wiped it clean.
The kitchen.
I tried to keep my eyes away from her, but I couldn't help it.
She looked so pitiful there on the floor.
And then I noticed something clutched in her hand.
A pasteboard.
I carefully forced her hand open.
It was a pawn ticket.
I put it in my pocket and started to get up.
It was the girl in the picture.
She was leaning against the kitchen door, a face white with shock.
Is she dead?
Yes.
Who are you? What are you doing here?
How did you get in this apartment?
I live here.
Oh, and you're Eleanor Grayson?
Yes, who are you?
I'll ask the questions. Come on, I'm a detective.
Let's get out of here.
I herded her out of the apartment.
She thought I was taking her down to the station,
but I steered her into a chop suey joint.
I ordered some tea for her.
She looked like she was going to faint.
She drank it.
Feel better?
Oh, yes. Yes, thank you.
I'm sorry to be such a bother.
I guess it was quite a shock.
No. No, not really.
What do you mean?
Brandy was a strange girl, always getting into trouble.
Always getting mixed up with the wrong sort of men.
You've known her long?
All my life.
We're from the same town.
Came here together.
Shared the apartment for a while.
She worked on the elevator next to mine in the Broadway building,
but she hated it.
And then one day a photographer rode in her car,
and the next day she was a model.
That's when she took the name of Brandy.
Her real name is Evangeline.
She had the face of a Madonna, but...
I know. I met her.
Looked like uptown, talked like downtown.
That must be...
Yeah. Now, take it easy. Take it easy.
Now, tell me, what was she doing in your apartment today?
She paid half the rent.
Well, she said she needed to use the phone for modeling appointments,
but I never really believed that.
I needed the money.
I shouldn't have let her.
Now I'll get into trouble.
She was killed in my apartment.
Now they'll blame it on me.
Look, look. Why don't you go away and stay with a friend tonight?
You're in no shape to go back there.
You're very understanding for a policeman.
You'd be surprised about us policemen.
You'll help me.
I'll do what I can.
You promise?
Yeah, sure, sure.
Don't bank on it too much, but everything I can.
It's a lousy trick to lie to her like that.
Poor kid.
Ah, she'd be all right, and I needed time.
That siren meant that the chase had started.
It was my skin I had to worry about.
I put her on a streetcar,
then I headed in the opposite direction on another one.
I had to transfer twice to reach the spot I was bound for,
the safest way to get out of town.
About an hour later, in a diner on the outskirts of town,
I found my boy.
Yeah, I'll give you a ride, Mac,
but I ain't highballing out till midnight.
And I can't pick you up here. Insurance spot is around.
Know where Fremont turns into Kelso by 101?
Yeah, yeah, I'll find it.
Well, look, be there by the signal a little after 12.
I'll pick you up.
I went back to my rooming house to get my stuff.
My rent was paid.
I wouldn't have to see anybody.
I'd sure be glad to get out of this town.
You made me lose a bet, Clark.
He was a fat man, and he was holding a cigar.
He put the cigar in his mouth, and I was conscious of dimples,
three of them, one in his chin, one in each cheek.
I had never seen him before.
Yeah, I bet you wouldn't be fool enough to come back here.
What do you want?
I'm the contender type. I hardly ever want nothing.
But Augie does. Augie Persian.
He wants to see a bed.
I didn't say anything.
I didn't have any words to argue with the gun he pressed against me
as we went down the stairs.
There was a car about halfway down the block,
a big black sedan.
I knew that once I got into that car,
the chances were I wouldn't climb out again.
So I made a run for it,
ducked into an alley.
Don't be a sucker, Clark.
I hid behind a bulge of a chimney.
As he came around, I let him have it.
Right in the stomach.
He went down like a paper sack filled with water.
He just sat there and grinned,
holding onto his belly, sucking in air like an asthmatic.
I ran to the other end of the alley
and rolled my first seven when I hit a bus sign
advertising beds at half a buck a throw.
This would be my hideout until 11.30,
when I'd catch my truck ride.
I hit the pillow,
shut my eyes.
When I woke up,
the sun was coming through the dirty windows.
There were two old men talking close by.
No, sir, eh?
You can't catch me leaving town with that dragnet the cops got spread.
What time is it?
About seven o'clock.
Seven o'clock in the morning?
Well, that ain't the moon shining out there.
I'd lost my chance to get out of town.
But what was worse, dragnet, he said.
I had to find out.
I dashed out onto the street to buy a paper,
and then I discovered it.
The paper was clean.
Somebody in the flophouse had rolled me.
I didn't have a penny.
And the newsboy hollering his head off about
mysterious man sorting models killing.
I couldn't afford to float around town with no dough.
I couldn't afford the chance of ending up in a police lineup.
And I certainly couldn't afford to let Persian get his hooks into me.
There was only one other person I knew.
I had to risk seeing her.
I made my way to the center of town.
I went through an arcade into the Broadway building
and watched the elevators.
She was running the second one from the right.
I went up to the top floor on one of the others
and got off and waited.
When her car registered near the top
and nobody was in the hall,
I pressed the button to signal.
Down, please.
I've got to talk to you.
You're not a detective. You didn't fool me for long.
I know. I'm sorry about that, but...
Did you kill her?
Why would I want to kill her?
I just met her last night in a bar.
But you were in the apartment leaning over.
I know. I know. It looks bad, but you've got to believe me.
That's the starter signal. I have to go.
Please. Wait.
I haven't got anybody to turn to but you.
They're looking for you.
The cleaning woman told...
I wouldn't want you to think that I...
I'll lose my job.
Please. Please.
The police have been in the building all day.
You'll get caught here.
You've got to believe me.
I didn't kill Brandy.
I've got to go. Please. They'll catch you.
Look, look. I'm broke.
I haven't got a nickel. You've got to help me.
I've got to talk to you.
Here's a dollar.
I'll try to get you more later.
I get off work at six.
Meet me at the Chinese restaurant where you took me yesterday.
Okay. Thanks.
The buck was crumpled in my fist
till I got out of the building.
Then I stuck it in my pocket
and discovered a little piece of paper
and got there first.
It was the porn ticket.
The ticket I'd taken out of Brandy's hand
when I found her in the kitchen of the apartment.
Might be nothing.
It might be something.
I had to find out.
Hey, bud.
Are you talking to me?
Yeah. Can you tell me where the Acme porn shop is?
Sure. Right down the block there.
Oh, thanks.
Hey, mister.
Not that way. The other way. The other way.
I knew which way I was going all right
because in front of that porn shop
I'd seen a long black car
and sitting behind the wheel was Augie Pershing.
I spent the next two hours in a movie
but I don't know what the picture was about.
The porn ticket kept bothering me.
And Eleanor, was she really on my side?
Could I depend on her?
I decided to go to the Chinese restaurant all right
but I wouldn't go in.
I'd wait a few doors down the street.
If she was on the level, she'd come alone.
Here I am.
What? You said the restaurant.
Hi. Are you hungry?
No. Let's walk.
It won't be safe to walk. They're looking for you.
Come on. We can't stand here.
There's the park across the street.
We'll talk soon. All right.
You look tired. I am.
I'm dead.
Here's a bench. Why don't we sit down?
Okay.
No. No. Maybe it isn't such a good idea.
Why not? Well, parks are full of cops snooping around.
Maybe we'd better go, huh?
No. No, let's stay.
Here, sit down.
Oh, it's nice here.
It's quiet.
No elevators, no noise, no people.
Poor kid.
I forgot.
Isn't easy for you either, is it?
I'm worried about you.
What are you going to do?
I don't know.
I don't know if I only had something to go on.
Wait a minute.
There is something. I almost forgot it.
What?
The pawn ticket.
Pawn ticket? Yeah, I found it in Brandy's hand.
Let me see it. I got it right here.
Kiss me. Huh?
There's a policeman. He's coming this way. Hurry up and kiss me.
I held her in a clinch until the cop's footsteps disappeared past us,
every nerve tight as a stretched tendon.
And then, suddenly, the tightness was gone.
And there was something else in its place.
It had started out as just a prop kiss,
just a guy and a gal on a park bench.
But that wasn't what it turned into.
Eleanor?
Oh, Harry.
I didn't notice it before.
You're beautiful.
Oh, Harry.
All day, I've been running and running.
Just now, 30 seconds ago, I started to slow up.
I know.
There isn't much time, Harry.
Please let me see the pawn ticket.
Sure, honey.
Got it right here.
What's the matter?
That car down there.
Where?
Big black sedan. Look. See? Just stopped without lights.
Persian's car.
Persian? Yeah, but how did he know where I was?
Harry, Harry, give me the pawn ticket.
We've got to get away from here, Eleanor. Come on.
No, wait. Come on, don't be silly. Come on, hurry.
Stop. Stop!
What are you doing with that gun?
Never mind.
Just hand over the pawn ticket.
I'm so anxious to have it.
What's this all about?
Don't ask questions. Just give me the ticket.
All right, Eleanor.
Put down the gun.
I'll give it to you.
No tricks now.
Of course not. No tricks.
Don't move, Clark.
This is a gun I got too.
See if she's dead, Dimples.
We were fighting for the gun.
It went off. I...
I don't understand why she...
Don't ever trust a dame, Clark.
Any dame.
Eleanor told us you'd be here in the Chinese restaurant or the park.
She called me.
What?
She called you?
She ain't dead, Augie.
But she ain't gonna live very long.
Hey, looks like crime doesn't pay, Eleanor.
Don't kill him, Persian.
Me kill Harry?
Oh, no, Eleanor.
You were the target for tonight.
Me?
Yeah.
But you saved me the trouble.
Persian, you're crazy.
You're crazy.
No, you are, Clark, for trusting her.
Why don't you tell him, Eleanor?
Tell him why you killed Brandy.
How you'd been hacking her clothes, her jewelry.
How you'd been killing her.
How you'd been hacking her clothes, her jewelry.
How she finally caught up with you.
I didn't mean to kill her.
She found a porn ticket.
Threatened to have me arrested.
She slapped me.
We...
We had a fight.
She fell and hit her head on the sink.
I didn't know what to do.
Ran away.
And just then a perfect fall guy turned up.
Friend Harry here.
That's why she needed this porn ticket.
What porn ticket?
This one.
Well, this ties it all up.
She had to have this.
Even if I had fallen for her double cross
and rubbed you out,
this ticket would still point to her.
Harry.
What, Eleanor?
Tell me.
I...I didn't want to.
I...
If only we'd met before, I...
Well, that apartment is now
available for new tenants.
We better beat it, Augie.
Come on, Harry.
You know, I tried to catch up to you all day.
To give you protection.
Oh, shut up.
Yeah, I know, kid. I know.
Now look, idiot.
Leave me alone. I said shut up.
Shut up.
Thank you, Edmund O'Brien
and Anne Blythe, for a splendid performance.
Mr. O'Brien and Miss Blythe
will be back in just a moment.
Harlow,
where in the world do you get all those
auto light adjectives you throw around?
Ah, those aren't adjectives. Those are facts.
And the fact is, I, old
Harlow A for Auto Light Wilcox,
would give a mountain of money for a
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To remind America's millions of owners
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Tell her my sentient you'll be taken care of extra pronto.
Harlow, listen.
Auto light?
You'll find auto light service stations
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Auto light friends, and here's something else to remember.
Auto light means spark plugs.
Ignition engineered spark plugs.
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Stay full batteries.
Auto light means ignition systems.
The lifeline of your car.
And now here again is Mr. Edmund O'Brien.
I'd like to say for Anne Blythe
and myself that it's been a pleasure to appear
on Suspense tonight.
That's right Eddie, and next week we'll be
listening to one of the most famous of all
suspense shows, Agnes
Moorhead in Sorry Wrong Number.
And that is really tops in.
Suspense.
Anne Blythe
appeared through the courtesy of Universal
International and can now be seen in Mr.
Peabody and the Mermaid, released by
Universal International. Edmund O'Brien
may soon be seen in Warner Brothers' Technicolor
production, Fighter Squadron.
Tonight's Suspense play was written by Bob
Shelley and Buckley Angel, with music
composed by Lucian Moorweck and conducted
by Lud Bluskin. The entire
production was under the direction of Anton M.
Lieder. In the coming weeks, Suspense
will present such stars as Ronald Coleman,
Rosalind Russell, James Cagney,
Margaret O'Brien, Claude Reigns, and
Peter Laurie. Make it a boy to
listen each Thursday to
Suspense, radio's outstanding
theater of thrills. And next Thursday
same time, hear Agnes Moorhead in
Sorry, wrong number.
This is the Autolite Suspense show.
On this Armistice Day,
Autolite is proud to join All
America in a salute to the United
States Marine Corps on its
173rd anniversary.
Good night. Switch to
Autolite. This is CBS,
the Columbia Broadcasting System.