Suspense!
Tonight, transcribed, Auto Light brings you Miss Joan Crawford in The Ten Years, a suspense
play produced and directed by Anton M. Leder.
And now, Auto Light presents Joan Crawford in a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Everyone is so good to me. I like being here, but some of the others don't, I guess.
Do you hear? They scream sometimes like that in the night. Maybe they scream because they
remember things. But I remember things too, especially when people come out from town
to see me, to bring me things. But there's nothing, nothing that I want. They can't bring
back my sister, my beautiful sister Adele. They came today, and with them they brought
back memories of Adele, when we were children, the night that Mother died, the night we made
the promise. Don't cry anymore, Adele. I'm afraid, Clara. We're alone. We're not alone.
But if something happened to you... Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm going to take care
of you. But that's what Mother said. Now she's left us too. But Adele, Mother didn't know
that she, she wouldn't have left us if she could have helped. Promise me you won't die,
Clara, and that whatever I do, you'll do, and that, and that you'll never leave me. I promise.
And we'll be together always and forever. Always and forever. I promise.
And for years I kept that promise. Adele and I were as close as anyone could be. We had
few friends, but I didn't mind as long as she was happy. But sometimes I was frightened
at the way she clung to me after we were grown. I was afraid of what would happen to her in
case anything ever happened to me. And then something did happen. I met Douglas Foley.
Adele liked him until she realized that I'd fallen in love with him. Then she hated him
in a childish, vicious way. He tried to win her over, but it was no good. And then he
asked me to marry him. And I said yes. That night after he'd gone, Adele was waiting for
me in my room. Adele? Clara! Douglas told me. Adele, you're so white. You're ill. But
you promised me. But Adele, I'm not leaving you. You're going to live with us. No, it
won't be the same. You promised always and forever. But we were children, Adele. You
promised. We'd be together always and forever. But Adele, I... You see... Clara! If you
marry him, I'll never speak to you again. But we were married. And we believed that Adele
would forgive us in time. But she didn't. She refused to see us and letters went unanswered.
Then when we learned that my husband's new job was to take us to Europe, I first thought
of Adele, if she would only go with us. But when we drove to her house, she refused even
to come to the door. And we were forced to sail without her. My son Doug was born in
Europe. And I wrote Adele a long letter telling her about him. But the letter was returned
unopened. When Doug was just 10, we returned to America. I went directly from the station
to Adele's house. She was working in the garden when we drove up. I was shocked at her appearance.
Her hair had turned almost white and there was a strange look about her. I sent Doug
to the gate to introduce himself. She looked at him in a puzzled manner. Then she saw us
sitting in the car. And she turned and walked into the house. The next thing I remember
was that day one month after my return home when I was put on trial for murder. For my
husband's murder. Mrs. Foley, will you tell us again what happened the night of your husband's
murder? My husband was working in the garden all day. When it began to grow dark, I called
him in. But he insisted that he had something to finish. I called him several times after
that. And then I became irritated and I gave up. I had my dinner alone and I went up to
my bedroom. Then you do admit that you quarreled with him the night of the murder. We didn't
quarrel. I was irritated but I said nothing to my husband. I see. Your husband's death
was caused by a deep narrow wound in the vicinity of the heart. It is the opinion of this court
that the instrument used might have been an ice pick. Mrs. Foley, have you any other ideas
as to what might have inflicted this wound? No. Had your husband any enemies, Mrs. Foley?
No. And so I was acquitted that day because of insufficient evidence. I thought Adele would
come to see me during those awful days but she didn't. I saw her in the courtroom but
she never looked my way. I believe it was about two months after the trial that my son
and his friend Roy went on an all-day hiking trip to the beach. They were late getting
back. It was almost dark when I saw Roy coming up the street. He was alone and he was running.
Mrs. Foley! Mrs. Foley! Roy, where's Doug? He's down at the beach with her. With whom?
Your sister. My sister? Oh, for heaven's sake, Roy. Will you tell me what this is all about?
Well, you see, Mrs. Foley, Doug and I went down to the beach with him. It seemed that Roy
and Doug had forgotten to take along their drinking water and they hadn't missed it until
they'd come to a very deserted strip of the beach. Come on, Doug. Maybe we can get some
water at that little house over there. Funny place for a house, isn't it? Yeah. Come on.
Looks like nobody lives here. All the better. And just drink out that faucet in the yard.
You won't have to ask nobody. Come on. Sure runs down, ain't it? Maybe the faucet isn't
working. The garden's all dead. Sure it's working, see? Someone's just plain lazy then.
Or maybe no one lives here. Sure they do. There's a mailbox. Maybe there's a name on it.
Look. Miss Adele Norris. That's Mom's sister. Yeah? Well, let's drop in and see her.
She wouldn't even know who I was. You could tell her, couldn't you? Say, maybe she'd give us
some cake or something. No. She's mad at me and Mom. Come on, let's get out of here. Hey,
Doug. Look at all those dead leaves on the porch. Let's have a look around. No, she might
come out. Oh, she can't hurt you, can she? Let's peek in the window. No, Ron. Look,
Doug. The place is all upset. It's all dirty and everything. Let's look in the rest of
the windows. There's no one around. Here's the kitchen. Hey, look at all the dirty dishes
piled up. Say, maybe my aunt's sick. Look, someone's coming to the window. Oh. What do
you want? We wanted to see if you were all right. Go away. Don't you recognize me? No.
Are you sick? No. I'm your nephew, Douglas Foley. Go away, whoever you are. I'd like to
help you. Go away, I said. Mother wouldn't want me to leave you here like this. Who is
your mother? I told you. Don't you remember? She's your sister. I have no sister. My sister
died when I was 18. Roy, you go home and get my mother. My aunt's sick. I'll climb through
this window and I'll see if there's anything I can do. You stay out of this house. Doug,
let's both go. She doesn't want you here. She's sick. You go for my mother and hurry. If
you come into this house, she'll be sorry. If you dare. Did you say your name is Douglas
Foley? Yeah, that's right. Douglas Foley is dead. Forever and ever. No, don't you see?
The one who died was my mother. Douglas Foley became between two sisters. And then he died.
Yeah, but I'm trying to tell you. My mother and Roy isn't dead. Then I guess he'll have
to die again. That's it. Yes. He'll have to die again. He'll have to die again. He'll
have to die again. You're sick. You need help. I'm sick. Yes. Don't you want me to come in?
Yes. Come in. Douglas Foley. For Suspense, Auto Light is bringing you Joan Crawford in
the video's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense. And now, Auto Light brings back
to our Hollywood sound stage, Miss Joan Crawford as Clara in The Ten Years by Mel Dennelly.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. You see how clearly I remember things. I remember
so well the horror of that moment when Doug's little friend finished telling me how he had
left Doug there alone with my sister, Adele. And I even remember what Roy said at the end.
So I came back to tell you, Mrs. Foley, on account of Doug made me. Now I wish I hadn't
left him there with her. I know she's your sister and all, but I saw her face when she
came to the window. She looked awful, Mrs. Foley. She looked awful crazy.
I followed Roy's directions and I went by foot north along the ocean. I must have walked
a good mile before I came to the house. The front door was standing open. There was a lamp
burning on the table. Adele? She lay on the bed. I couldn't see her very clearly by the
candlelight, but I could see that she was fully dressed. Her hair was undone and it
spilled down over the pillow. For a moment I thought, I thought she was dead.
What do you want? Adele? What do you want? It's me, Clara. Where's Douglas? He's dead.
Adele! Your husband is dead, I tell you. I don't mean my husband. I mean my son. Where
is he? He was murdered with a long shot. Be still! You don't know what you're saying.
Where is my son? I haven't seen him. You have. He was here. I know that. I haven't
seen him. Yes, you have. Try and remember. Where is he? I don't know. Yes, you do know.
What have you done to him? Was he your son? Yes, Adele. Please. I hated him. I know.
Where is he, Adele? He went away. Where? Where did he go? He went to the village for
a talk. Are you telling me the truth? Yes. How long ago did he leave? I don't
admit. Will you stop questioning me? Can't you see that I'm sick? I tell you, he went
for a doctor. Why do you come here, Clara? After ten years? I've come to help you. I
don't need your help. Adele, did Doug really go for the doctor? You think I'm lying? I
don't know. But if he isn't back soon, I'm going for the police. The police? Those sack
fools. I'm so sick, Clara. Oh, I know. I'm going to take your things off, Adele. You'll
be more comfortable. Then when the doctor comes, if he comes... Don't you touch me!
You're sick, Adele. Let me take your things off. No, no! Can't you leave me alone? Leave
me alone! How do you know what's good for me after all these years? I'm in pain, Clara.
I have a heavy pain here in my heart. When I'm tightly laced, I can almost bear it. All
right. All right, darling. We'll leave it till the doctor comes. Will the doctor help
me, Clara? Of course he will. Douglas Holey came between two sisters. Oh, dear. He worked
in the garden, bending down low. I'm so tired, Clara. I know. Try and rest, Adele. Close
your eyes. He was working in the garden, and I was on my way home. I saw him there, Clara.
He looked the same after ten years, because he had your strength to draw from. But I was
alone. I had grown old, and he had stayed young. Young. And then he... And then she seemed
to doze off. Her breathing was so labored, and I thought, perhaps she'll rest more easily
if I undress her. And I went over to the bed. She was wearing a corset. I reached over and
I began to unhook it. She started mumbling something in her sleep. You broke your promise.
Always and forever you were there. But she didn't wake up. Always. And I finally managed
to take her corset off. But as I went to place it on a chair, I noticed something sticking
out of the material. At first I thought it was a broken stay, but it was round, and one
end was sharp. I looked closer. It was a steel knitting needle. A long steel one. And there
was rust on it. Or was that brown stain rust? Adele had concealed a knitting needle, and
there was proof of what I guess I'd always known. That Adele had murdered my husband.
I dropped the needle to the floor. Then something caught my eye. It was a hand sticking out
from beneath the bed. It was wide and still. It was a child's hand. I fell to my knees.
Oh, Doug, Doug! And just as I reached out for him, I... I felt a sharp blow on the back
of my head. And I fell, unconscious. I dreamed. I dreamed that Adele and I were children again.
And that she was laughing. And we were playing an old game of ours where we tied each other
with our bathrobe cords. And then we waited for a knight in armor to rescue us. And then
I think it was the odor of kerosene that brought me to... The room was filled with it. Oh, my
head was pounding. I couldn't seem to focus my eyes. I tried to raise myself to my feet,
but I... I couldn't seem to move my arms, my legs. Suddenly I realized why. I was tied
with a bathrobe cord. I was a child again. Adele and I were playing our games again. My
husband and everything that had happened between Adele and me had been nothing but a bad dream.
Oh, a feeling of relief swept over me. Suddenly I heard footsteps and the door creaked slowly
open. And then I knew that what had happened had not been a dream, for Adele stood there
in the doorway. Not Adele, the child who would rescue me, but Adele with gray hair who hadn't
spoken to me for all those years. She wore a long dressing gown. She was barefoot, her
long hair streaming about her shoulders. And there was a vague and stupid smile on her
face. She carried a bucket in her hand and the odor of kerosene filled the room. She
didn't seem to notice me as she went past me. She threw the liquid from the bucket onto
the table. Adele! No, Adele! But she paid no attention to me as she left the room again.
I struggled. I struggled wildly, but it was no use. Oh, I was tied securely and then I
saw a still figure on the bed. It was Doug. Oh, his face was so white. He was unconscious
and there was a deep gash at the side of his head. Then Adele came back into the room.
She had filled that bucket to the brim and she walked toward the bed again. Clara? Adele,
untie me. Untie you why? Adele, listen to me. This is your son, Clara. Yes, yes, Adele,
untie me. We were looking for him and he was here all the time. Please untie me, Adele.
I never knew your son. For years I never knew him. How old is he, Clara? He's only ten.
He's just a boy. Adele, you're sick. Untie me and we'll go for a doctor. You want me
to be well, Clara? Yes, untie me. Are we friends again, Clara? Yes, we're friends. I want
to help you. But I can't forget the ten years, Clara. I must wash those years away before
we can really be friends again. Adele, forget those years. Let me help you. Don't untie
me. No, we can't forget them, Clara. We must wash them away. That's what I was doing. I
was washing away the years. Your husband's gone. Your son is all that remains, Huffle.
Then we can be sisters again. You don't know what you're doing. Untie me, Adele. But this
isn't water that I have in this jug. No, you see, you're sick. This is what I put into
the lamps to make them burn. No! I could burn away the years. Then that would be better.
No, Adele, for the love of heaven, untie me. Burn away these years that remain on the
bed. No, Adele. If I could do that with this candle, then you and I could really be friends
again. Like when Mother was alive. We could be sisters again. Always and forever. We're
sisters now, Adele. You're lying. We're not sisters. Adele, listen to me. We're children
and you've tied me with this cord and now you must untie me like you used to do when
you left me too long and I cried. You're lying. We're not sisters and we haven't been for
years. And now I'm going to punish you for lying. Just as Mother used to punish us when
we were children. Then she started walking unsteadily toward me. A lighted candle in one
hand, the bucket in the other, the liquid slapping over her dressing gown as she walked.
Do you remember the time Mother washed out my mouth with soap and she caught me in a
fib? That's what I'm going to do to you now. Or perhaps it would be better if I burned
you. No, no. Don't scream, Clara. Don't waken your precious son. We mustn't waken you.
Adele, Adele, untie me. I promise you that I'll take Duggan. We'll go away. You'll never
have to see us again. No, Clara. And she kept moving toward me, holding the lighted candle
close to her breast. You mustn't ever lie to me again, Clara. Adele, Adele, you're
ill. You don't know what you're doing. Wash away the years. Burn away the years. Suddenly
I saw a tiny flicker of flame on her breast. The frilly dressing gown, she had held the
candle too close. Her entire dressing gown was a mass of flames that spread swiftly to
her hair. In a moment she was a blazing torch. And the ardor burning filled the room. I could
see her face. Surprised and contorted with pain. She turned and looked towards the better
second, the bucket flaming in her hand. But then she went screaming out the door and towards
the steam. Adele, Adele, Adele, Adele. Mrs. Foley. Yes. You mustn't scream like that.
I wasn't screaming. That was my sister, Adele. Yes, I know. Try not to think about it, Mrs.
Foley. You knew my sister was burned to death, didn't you, Mrs. Willard? Oh, she was so very
beautiful. Yes, I know. Try and rest. Is there anything I can get you before I go to bed?
No, thank you. Well, go to sleep then. I will. Good night. Good night. And pleasant dreams.
Was that my sister, Mrs. Willard? No, no, Mrs. Foley. It's one of the others. Oh, they
scream because they remember things. Yes, yes, I suppose they do. Good night. Good night.
I remember things, too. I remember. Promise me you'll never leave me, Clara, and that
whatever I do, you'll do. I promise. Always and forever? Always and forever. I promise.
Thank you, Joan Crawford, for a magnificent performance. Now here again is Miss Crawford.
I want to thank Tony Leader and his wonderful cast of actors, especially Lurine Tuttle,
who played my sister, for helping me to make my appearance on Suspense so very pleasant.
Like all of you, I am a great Suspense fan, and I'm looking forward to hearing next week's
story. It's another gripping study in Suspense.
Thank you.