Suspense!
Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present Mr. Red Skelton in The Search for Isabelle,
a suspense play produced and edited by William Spear.
Hey, Hap, did you hear about the super snook from Sandy Hook who found Snoo in his car?
Snoo? What Snoo?
Nothing, what's new with you?
Oh, Harlow, that's really pretty corny.
It sure is, but it just shows how easily you can be fooled.
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And now with the search for Isabelle and with the performance of Red Skelton, auto light
hopes once again to keep you in suspense.
You know, Isabelle first came into my life when I received a card from the telephone
company stating that my application for a phone had been approved and they were going
to install one in my apartment. Well, I left instructions with the apartment house management
to let the service man in.
When I got home from work that evening, there was the telephone, his biggest life, sitting
there on the night table.
Well, I just looked at it for a minute, like I'd never seen that phone before.
Gosh, it started to ring. I about jumped out of my skin.
I just let it ring a couple of times. Just wanted to hear it.
To me it sounded like the bells of St. Mary.
Hello?
Is Isabelle LaRue in please?
Oh, I'm sorry. You must have the wrong number.
Is this Evergreen 31924?
Take a look. Yes, Evergreen 31924.
Well, isn't Miss LaRue there?
No, this phone was just installed. This must be her old number.
Oh, I'm sorry to have troubled you. Thank you.
Oh, no trouble at all.
I wouldn't have thought much about the call except by next Saturday I'd had a dozen more
just like it. And most of them were men. But it interested me. Any gal that gets around
like that must interest a guy. So I decided that the next time I would try to find out
a little further.
Hello?
Harold Mason's office calling for Miss LaRue.
Oh, yes. Put him on.
Just one moment.
Hello, Miss Isabelle LaRue. Mr. Mason calling.
Well, Miss LaRue will be right here. Put Mr. Mason on.
Hello, Isabelle. Harold.
Well, this isn't Isabelle.
Who is this?
Well, you see, this is Dick Brown. Isabelle LaRue used to have this number. You know,
I would appreciate it very much if you could tell me any other way I could get a hold of
her. You see, I get quite a few calls and... Hello? Hello, Mr. Mason? Hello?
He hung up. Why? I don't know. But one thing I found out was that little Isabelle, if nothing
else, must know the right people. A guy like Mason who has got to go through two secretaries
to make a phone call must have a couple of chips. She was beautiful, no doubt about that.
She must have to be. They get so many calls from so many different guys. And the right
kind, too. She was very mysterious. Or why else would they hang up when I ask about her?
She was tall, willowy, very sophisticated, and a blonde. No, a brunette. And a lot of
fun. I drew a mental picture of her as a gag just to see how close I'd come when I actually
met her. While I finally dozed off, she must be beautiful and lovely. Beautiful, tall,
maybe a redhead.
Dick? Dick? Dick? Can't you see me? Here I am. Where? Up here. Oh. That's it. Come
on. Just a little further. That's the boy. You're? Who else? Isabelle. Of course. Oh,
you are lovely. So beautiful. Just as I pictured. Thanks, Dick. You're pretty swell yourself.
Oh, what am I? Come here. Oh? Well, you wouldn't. Afraid? Of course not. It's just- What? Well,
what are you doing with me? I'm just a common bank clerk. What about Mr. Mason? Harold,
he bores me terribly. Oh? Look, every man is at my fingertips. Yeah, that's what I mean.
If I wanted them, I'd be with them. Instead, I'm with you. You only want something you
haven't got. Once you have it or know you can get it, you love with your heart, not
mine. Oh, I do love you. Put your arms around me. Kiss me. The alarm clock broke it up just
when it was getting good. Well, the next day was Sunday. It may sound kind of silly, but
I just couldn't get her or that dream off of my mind all day. Instead of ordering donuts
for breakfast, I ordered two Isabelle's plain. It got on my nerves. Well, the public library
was open, so I wandered down and I thumbed through the present and all the past issues
of who's who, the phone books, film magazines, newspapers, and there was nothing. Not a word
about Isabelle Le Roux. Then that night about 11 o'clock- Hello? Let me speak to Isabelle,
will you? Look, she doesn't live here. The phone- Don't hand me that, pal. This is John
Worthington and I have to speak to the Roux, understand? I'm sorry. I can't help you.
Then just give Isabelle this message, will you? Listen, I can't- Just tell Isabelle
I don't want to see her friend. I want to see her. And if she don't call me by tomorrow
morning and tell me she'll give me another chance, that'll be all. Get it? Okay. And
it'll mean plenty of trouble, too. I'll come down there to the Beverly Towers and really
put on an act that she won't forget. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got the name? John Worthington.
Worthington- Yeah, I got it.
Well, I didn't give it much thought then. That particular phone call to Isabelle, that
is. But the next morning at breakfast, something happened. I was drinking my coffee and I caught
the sight of the paper next to me. It was all over the front page, Playboy, Gambler.
John Worthington leaps to his death from the top of the Beverly Towers. Now, the papers
had it doped out that the reason for the suicide was that John Boy was a couple hundred thousand
in debt. But I, and only I, knew different. It was Isabelle LaRue.
Auto Light is bringing you Mr. Red Skelton in The Search for Isabelle. Tonight's production
in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Hey, Harlow, what's this I hear about you being tossed out of the zoo for annoying the
animals? I can't figure it out, Hap. Well, what were you up to when they hustled you
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batteries have over three times the liquid reserve above the plates than ordinary batteries.
In addition, each one of these positive plates is protected with a fiberglass retaining mat
for longer battery life. The fact is, in recent tests based on SAE life cycle standards, Auto
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features. So friends, see your neighborhood Auto Light battery dealer today and get an
Auto Light stay full battery for your car. Remember, you're always right with Auto Light.
And now Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood soundstage, our star Red Skelton with Kathy
Lewis in the search for Isabelle, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Yes, sir. This millionaire playboy and gambler, John Worthington, had jumped to his death
from the top of the Beverly Towers. I knew it was on account of LaRue. The worst part
of it was that two or three times during the day, I caught myself not blaming him. I dreamed
about her all the time now. It was getting so bad that I was actually fond of going to
sleep so I could meet her again. And suddenly one night, just as I was dropping off, I thought
of something. The Beverly Towers, a clue. I would ask her. I love you. I love you. Isabelle,
are you at the Beverly Towers? Where else? Thanks, honey.
The Beverly Towers is about as swanky as you can get, strictly for the white tie and ermine
trade. But Isabelle was different. I knew that. So different. I arrived at the Beverly
Towers and I walked up to the elevator as big as life. Boy, I've never seen a joint
like this. The elevators were even gilded. Your floor, sir? Well, I'm from the FBI, a
tea man. What apartment is Miss Isabelle LaRue's? LaRue? Well, I shouldn't tell you, but for
how much? Money? The United States government don't tip, my boy. Yeah, it's 903. But look,
I think you better get your information across the street. The blue bottle bar and grill,
talk to the bartender. Because if you don't, I'll be in trouble. Thanks, son. We won't
forget you when we crack this case because your government has plenty of influence in
Washington. It was actually around the corner on 3rd Street, the blue bottle bar and grill.
Well, I cased it with the joint through the window. It looked pretty rough. Well, anyway,
well, I realized it was midnight already and they were starting to close up and I was pretty
tired. So I figured that tomorrow would tell the tale. A half hour later, I was back in
my apartment, got undressed and climbed into bed. I was tired. So tired. Hello. Hello, is
Mr. Brown in, please? This is Brown speaking. This is the Mount Vernon Police Department.
Police? Oh, now don't worry. We noticed that you have the telephone number Evergreen 31924.
Yes, I do. Well, we're trying to locate an Isabelle LaRue. Isabelle? And we thought you
might be getting some calls for her. Oh, you did. Floorbell McCoy, you said? No, no, Isabelle
LaRue. No, never heard of her. Well, we're sorry to bother you. But look, if you do get
any calls for her, try to get their names and let us know, will you? Sure will. All
right. Thank you. I put the receiver back on the hook. I must be going really nuts.
Why did I do that for? So she's in trouble. What business is it of mine? Why didn't I
tell him? Well, about after an hour, I finally went off to sleep. Dear, dear, darling, come
here. Isabelle, look, why don't you let me alone? I don't want to, darling. Do you love
me? What difference does that make? A great deal. Tell me. No. I love you. Well, you couldn't.
But I do. All right, I'll tell you. I love you. I need you, darling. No, no, I need you.
I'm in trouble. Yeah, but what kind? Terrible trouble. Come help me. I will. Promise? I
promise. And come quick. Help me. Help me, Dave. Oh, Isabelle, wait a minute. Wait a
minute, Isabelle. I forgot to ask you. What apartment are you in? 903? Where is? Where
is? It was 730 and by 815 that morning, I was standing in front of 903. I was standing
in front of 903. I was shaking like a leaf. I could feel my lower lip start to quiver.
It always does that when I'm getting nervous. I knock softly. Twice. I waited. There was
no answer. I was holding one of my new calling cards in my left hand and I could feel it
getting wet. What do you want? Well, does the... I'm Mr. Brown calling for Miss
LaRue. Never heard of her. Well, she lives here. I live here, smart boy, and I go away.
You live here? Who else? I'll beat it, smart boy. Well, now look, I know she's in... Hey!
Next time don't pound the door off. He was a big guy in a brown pinstripe suit. I got
a look at the room inside. There was another tough guy in there. He'd been holding a revolver.
Well, I tried to find that elevator boy to check whether I heard him right when he said
room 903 was Isabelle's. But he wasn't around. So I did what else he said. I went around
to the blue bottle bar and grill. Yeah, what'll it be? What do you got? Oh, about a little
eight-year-old scotch. Good. Huh? Chaser? Yeah. A root beer. Huh. Well, you're serious
about this drinking stuff. What's the matter? You gay, I leave you? Well, it's worse than
that. I can't find her. Hey, you don't know Isabelle LaRue. Isabe... Hey, just who are
you, huh? Here's my card. Ah, light's kind of bad in here. Richard Brown, Municipal Bank
and Trust Corporation. Uh-huh. Are you a good friend of Isabelle's? We had only just discussed
getting married, that's all. Oh, I see. Well? Well, I don't know where she is myself, but
I think this gentleman does, Mr. Brown. Oh, hello. Hi. Mr. Brown here is looking for
Isabelle LaRue. Says he and she was gonna get married. So I told him you might be able
to help him, Roy. Oh, sure, sure. I know where she is right now. Oh, where? What are you
drinking, pal? Oh, eight-year-old pre-war. Ah, you don't want to drink that. Hey, Max,
that 13-and-a-half-year-old special, huh? Right. That's just... You know, I was about
to recommend it. And here you are. Not for me, Max. I'm a brandy drinker myself, Mr. Brown.
Well, you must be the fella Isabelle's been talking about. Come on, come on, drink up.
Well, I'm probably not the guy she's been talking about, but she's in trouble and I
want to help her. Of course, of course you do. Well, where is she? Well, the address is
a little involved. Look, why don't we step in here, huh? Finish our drinks here. Oh,
sure thing, sure thing. You have a car? Oh, of course. Where? Well, it's right out there.
It's that great convertible. Oh, well, fine then. You won't have any trouble. Hey, come
on, drink up. Thanks. Well, how long have you known the delightful Isabelle, Miss Leroux,
that is, Mr. Mr. Just call me Roy. Oh, thanks, Roy. Ah, forget it. Come on, come on, a toast,
a toast to Isabelle, the one and only Isabelle Leroux. To Isabelle, wherever she may be.
Well, well, how long have you known the delightful Isabelle, Miss Leroux, that is. Oh, but, Isabelle.
Oh, Isabelle. Nick, I knew for sure I was back at my apartment with enough bandages
around my head to pass for a Hindu Swami, which is maybe what I should have done. I
was lying on the bed and my left hand was clutched one of my own cards. On the back
of it was scrawled, it's a misdemeanor and so forth to say you are a member of the FBI
and thus such is true. Lay off trying to contact I Leroux, sign, sincerely, your FBI. Oh,
my head was throbbing like a trip hammer. I reached over and took a couple of aspirins
and in a few minutes I was off again in the land of Nod.
I'm here. Isabelle. Dick. Here. Look, please don't come near me. Why didn't you help me?
I tried, honest. Don't you love me? Oh. Don't you? You know I do. Tell me again. I love
you. I love you, Dick. I can't go on like this. We can't. I'm with you now. I'll always
be with you. But you'll leave again. Never again. Come close to me. There. Oh, Isabelle.
You smell of liquor. Oh, well, I just had a... My big foolish brave boy. They give you a
lucky. They did? What else? Oh, I love you. Promise you'll always be mine. Forever. Dick.
What, dear? Where are you going to go when you get up and have a nice hot dinner? Blue
bottle bar and grill. Where else? As I walked in, I detected a hush fall over the patrons.
The bartender hadn't seen me yet. But when he did, his face turned the same color as
the dish towel he was wearing over one shoulder. Hey, give me the same as you gave me before,
only this time not so strong. Oh. Oh, it's you. Yeah. Brown's the name. You want to see
a card? I remember. That was a scotch, wasn't it? Yeah, you got a good memory. But not that
13 and a half year old stuff this time. Oh, sure. Had your head, sir? No, I always wear
bandages. It holds my hair down. Pour above the bar if you don't mind so I can see it.
Oh, sure, sure. That's better. Now, where is Isabelle Leroux? Oh, really? I didn't have
nothing to do with it. Come on. Out with it. Where is she? Please. She's in 903 Beverly
Towers. 903, just as I suspected. Mr. Brown, don't tell nobody I told you that they'll
kill me. Oh, no, they won't. Thanks for the scotch. Yes, sir, what can I do for you? Well,
what kind of a gun can I get for 1750? Say a gun, gun 1750. Oh, yes, I have a practically
brand new shotgun, 12 gauges. No, I was looking for a pistol. Pistol, pistol, pistol. Yes.
Ah, here. Here's a honey, a.38 revolver. Well, it don't look so good to me. Well, what
can you expect for 1750? It shoots and I was told very accurately. It's a deal. Ah, fine,
fine. You will have to sign some forms here and some identification. You know, sleep
longer. And then there I was, standing in front of room 903 in the Beverly Towers.
If Isabel was in there, I was going to get her out. And this time I knew she was in there.
I reached in my pocket and I pulled out the gun. I pulled the hammer back. I held it
close to my body so if anyone might be walking down the hall, they wouldn't see it. I started
to pound on the door again. Well, if it isn't Smart Boy, I thought I told you not to pound.
Let me in. Smart Boy's got a gun. I might get hurt. Let me in. What else? My hospitality's
boundless. Come in and have a cocktail. Yeah. 13 half year old Scotch cocktail, I suppose.
Where's Isabel? Oh, come on. Where is she? I know she's here. Put the rod away before
you get hurt, Smart Boy. Hey, there's a moony. Oh, hello, Roy. Come on in. Close that door
behind you. Now you two put your hands out. What is this? Now both of you get over back
against that wall. Look, Brown, I don't know what you're trying to prove. If you're as smart
as you think you are, you'll get out of here fast. Isabel. Isabel, come out. It's OK. Stand
back where you are. You got hurt once, nosy. Keep quiet. Isabel. What are you waving the
gun around for? Now stand back. You nervous? You let Isabel go. Hey, you're shaking so
bad you couldn't hit the wallpaper. Now you stay away from that mantle. I just want to
pick up this automatic. That's all. Now stay away. You're too nervous. You're out of your
league, Smart Boy. Put that gun down. Drop the rod. Drop it. Don't. That's it. Drop
the gun. Well, the cops were there before the last bullet had left my gun. They slapped
handcuffs on me and both of them. Apparently the only thing I'd shot was the gun out of
Desimone's hands, a feat for which I'm still being complimented for. Well, the lieutenant
looked across the desk at me with real respect. Gosh. Yes, sir. I got to hand it to you, my
boy. Takes nerve to walk in on a guy like Desimone. Who's Desimone? What do you mean?
Tony Desimone, the guy who tried to murder you. Yeah, but so what? What does he do?
You didn't know. The biggest racketeer and bookmaker alive. Yeah, takes nerve. Does?
We were waiting to catch him on something big and you fixed it for us. Now we got him
on attempted murder. Hey, how much do you owe you? Nothing. Oh, you're lucky. He owed
about 200 grand and Betsy had taken off the other suckers. Guys like that poor Worthington
guy and what's his name, Mason. Oh, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Looks like Isabelle Le Roux is
finally out of business. Oh, don't say that. Oh, why not? Please. Who's Isabelle Le Roux?
You don't know. No, tell me. Oh, you're kidding. No, I'm not. Who is she? You don't know how
it works, huh? Well, look, all bookies use fronts. Fronts? You mean Isabelle is a front
for Tony Desimone? No, no, no. Isabelle Le Roux is Tony Desimone. There is no such person
as Isabelle Le Roux. No. Oh, no. Oh, well, that isn't so. Huh? Now, will you tell me
why you went to all of this trouble? Well, you see, well, there was a girl and well, she's...
Oh, you wouldn't understand. Tony Desimone is up in prison now. Now, wouldn't this be
true if Tony Desimone was the same as Isabelle Le Roux? She wouldn't be coming to see me
anymore now, would she? Well, you'll have to excuse me now because it's a little late
and well, I got to turn in and besides, well, we want to be alone. I'm sure you'll understand.
Dear, dear. Oh, dear Isabelle. Oh, a new dress. Mm-hmm. Like it? Well, it's a little...
Well, I love it, you understand, but isn't it a little daring? Oh, my gosh. I wouldn't
want to see you wear it around anyone else. I won't, darling. I love you. And I love you.
You're so handsome and strong and brave and wonderful. What else?
Suspense presented by Auto Light. Tonight's star, Red Skelton with Kathy Lewis. Well done,
Red Skelton. Well done. Well, thank you, Harlow. I've heard you as a comedian, now as a dramatic
actor. But look, have you ever done any commercial work? What, didn't you see me sell full of
brushes? Oh, yeah, I forgot that. Yeah, do you want me to sell some of your Auto Light
stay full batteries now? Red, they practically sell themselves, especially after we tell
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Remember, you're always right with Auto Light. Next Thursday for Suspense, Van Heflin will
be our star. The play is called Murder of Aunt Delia and it is, as we say, a tale well calculated
to keep you in suspense. Tonight's Suspense play was produced and edited by William Spear
and directed by Norman MacDonald. Music for Suspense is composed by Rene Garryganck and
Lucian Morrowak and conducted by Lud Bluskin. The Search for Isabelle is an original play
by Richard Vodra. Red Skelton appeared by arrangement with Metro Goldwyn Mayor, producers
of Battleground, starring Van Johnson, John Hodiac, Ricardo Montalban, and George Murphy.
Red Skelton may be heard on his own Tide show for Procter & Gamble over CBS every Sunday
night.
You can buy Auto Light staple batteries, Auto Light resistor spark plugs, Auto Light electrical
parts at your neighborhood Auto Light dealers. Switch to Auto Light. Good night.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.