Suspense!
Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present Mr. Kirk Douglas in The Butcher's Wife, a
suspense play produced and edited by William Spear.
Wilcox, I say there, Wilcox, old man.
Remming Chester shotgun as I live, breathe and batter my brains for burgeoning boasts
about the battery of batteries, the Auto Light Stay Full Battery.
The battery that needs water only three times a year in normal car use.
See, sounding off.
Is it not you who defied me to find a camel that could go without water as long as an
Auto Light Stay Full Battery?
Defy you I did, you dubious dunderhead.
Please, no compliments.
I concede your claim regarding ordinary one-hump camels, but what about a two-hump camel?
Need I say more?
Well, you probably mean he can go twice as long without refilling, but Auto Light Stay
Full Batteries hold over three times as much liquid reserve above the plate as ordinary
batteries.
Need I say more?
Jones, I shall have to find a dromedary with four humps.
Even that won't do it, for Auto Light Stay Full Batteries need water only three times
a year in normal car use.
What's more, in recent tests based on SAE life cycle standards, Auto Light Stay Full
Batteries gave 70% longer average life than batteries without Stay Full features.
So get wise, get an Auto Light Stay Full Battery, because you're always right with Auto Light.
And now with the butcher's wife and the performance of Kirk Douglas, Auto Light hopes once again
to keep you in suspense.
It started the first day of the job.
I was clerking the liquor department of this supermarket.
I hadn't been in Los Angeles a week.
My brother, when I'd left New York, had given me this letter to a friend of his, a guy who
owned a string of these markets.
The letter was about could he use me, I was a good fellow, he'd count it a favor, you
know.
And the guy had this opening, liquor clerk, and comes the following Monday.
I'm at work.
I spent the morning loading the refrigerators with beers, soda water, all that stuff, and
sizing up the place.
You know, back East, we don't have these supermarkets.
There was a vegetable department run by a nice little dark guy.
There was a delicatessen.
That was run by an old geezer and his frow.
There was a bakery department, a meat department, and of course the groceries.
No clerks.
You pushed a little card around and helped yourself.
To get out, you passed the cash register and the girl loaded your stuff and rang up the
price.
My surveillance of the place had reached the girl who checked the groceries when the trouble
was over.
She was looking at herself in a little mirror and putting on some lipstick.
Her back was to me.
I see her stop putting on her lipstick, but still looking at the mirror.
I see her eyes in the mirror.
And then she turns around very slowly and looks at me.
Just looks at me.
She must have been 50 feet away at the least and with customers between us.
But it was like we were all alone, the two of us on a beach somewhere, an empty beach.
I should have looked away.
I should have winked and forgotten it.
I should have gone on stacking beer and thinking about how to be a success.
That's what I should have done.
What I did do was I stood right there and locked eyes with her for I don't know how long.
And all the time I was looking at her, I was sending her mental telegrams.
You and me, baby.
You and me.
Hey.
Hey, you.
Hey.
You and me, baby.
Hey, what's the matter?
She's not here.
Hey, what's the matter?
Sleep on your feet?
Oh, what did you say?
You're the new guy, huh?
Yeah, I just started this morning.
I'm Nick Arnall.
I work the vegetables.
Oh, Harry Carr.
Pleased to know you.
Yeah.
You got two bottles of cold beer?
Oh, sure.
Cold as a witch's heart.
Only don't open here by the comrade, you know.
It's the law.
Yeah, sure.
I have them out back with my lunch.
Well.
Oh, uh, uh, uh, Nick.
What?
I mean, the, uh, the gal over there by the cash register.
Huh?
Mary?
Is that her name?
Mary?
Yeah.
What about her?
Well, that's what I'm wondering.
What about her?
Oh.
No soap.
She's married.
Oh, you're kidding.
You see that big guy over there with a knife?
The butcher?
Yeah.
Ask him if I'm kidding.
Well, who's he?
Her husband.
Oh.
See ya.
I looked over at him.
He's a good guy.
I looked over at him.
He's a funny looking guy.
A real creep.
He stood there stropping a tremendous big cleaver, whistling to himself.
He had on, you know, one of those hard straw hats and a white apron.
He had those rimless glasses with thick lenses so that his eyes looked like baseballs.
When he saw I was looking at him, he nodded and went on whistling and stropping.
A real creep.
Later on, I watched him softening up some sort of steaks.
He had a big steel mallet with points on it.
He was whacking away at this meat like a pile driver.
I watched him grinding and slicing, quartering, sawing the bones off some of the cuts.
And always those eyes like baseball and that teeny little mouth lost in the big red face,
whistling.
I looked over at her and she was giving me the eye again.
We closed at seven.
The festival guys carted out the old stuff, delicatessen man put away his pickles.
I checked the register, countered my slips, made my entries.
Krause the butcher was still there packing and cleaning, putting stuff in that big refrigerator
room back at the counter, but she'd left.
I got to my street coat and walked out.
Hello.
She was standing looking at the shoe display a couple of doors down from the market.
I said hello.
Don't you say hello wherever it is you come from?
Sure.
Hello.
Taking the bus?
Yeah.
Which way do you go?
I don't know, Wester.
I'm going that way.
I'll drive you.
No, no, I'll take the bus.
No, no, I don't think you'd better.
What's the matter?
I wouldn't want to trouble you.
No trouble.
Well, I...
Come on.
I'm parked right here.
Yeah, but what about Mr. Krause?
He'll be there an hour yet.
He takes the bus.
Oh.
Come on.
Well, I...
Come on.
Don't be afraid.
I'm not afraid of you.
You're afraid of me.
Come on.
Get in.
So all day long I'm pushing liquor at them.
Now they're pushing it at me.
Oh, you're cute, Harry.
I mean it.
You're really cute.
So are you, baby.
You really think so?
Sure, baby.
Harry, let's get out of here.
Go someplace else.
Hey, hey, wait a minute.
I got to work in the morning.
Hey, silly, this is the morning.
It is.
Hey.
Hey, Mac, what's the time?
2.30.
Harry, Harry, you really think I'm cute.
Oh, sure, baby.
Look, but it's late.
Real late.
Don't worry, sugar.
Look, look, come on.
I'll take you home.
No, no.
I'll take you home.
I took you home.
I got him.
It wasn't me.
It was Donna.
You got Pochette.
Oh, I'm going to have миллиard.
Yes, 1944, you know, grade.
He could take away Beau Do on the past.
He'd want to see shoes like this, too, intelligent for a baby, isn't it?
No, I never
on me. But he never did. Just went on smashing, slicing, grinding, sawing, all that.
When I came out that night, she was there. I tried to disregard her, but...
Barry!
She said she had something very serious to talk over. Well, the way she said it, I got
in the car again.
Now, he's awful, Harry. Really, you don't know.
Yeah, I guess he's tough.
You just wouldn't believe some of the things.
Look, Mary, I...
He's crazy jealous.
Of you?
That's silly.
Well, I guess it's...
Jealous of me. Or should I say of you?
Me? What's he know about me?
Well, I got him this morning and there he was, sitting up like grandma in his bathrobe.
Maybe says, where you been? I said, what's it to you, Auntie?
I call him Auntie. It drives him crazy.
Now, look, Mary...
So he said, don't think you can fool me. And then he started to cry and say a lot of things
about Babylon and then sitting on the water, real crazy talk.
Look, I'd better go, Mary. I don't...
Oh, Harry, don't be silly. He doesn't know who you are, who it is.
Yeah, but he could find out.
Not unless I told him.
Oh, look, you wouldn't do that.
Of course not, baby. As long as you're good to me.
The next night I stayed in the market. I was scared. I didn't want any more of that stuff.
I did inventory, counted bottles, cleaned the refrigerator, changed the water in the soft drink
cooler. I kept busy. Across the market, Krauss was moving around, cleaning up.
After a while, he took office apron and his straw hat and he came over.
Hello, Mr. Krauss.
Give me a bottle of beer.
Sure thing.
All right, to drink it here?
Sure. We're closed, aren't we?
Oh, here. Here's an opener.
Thanks.
You're working late, huh?
Where are you? Know how it is? Nothing to do evenings.
No?
No. I'm new out here. Takes time to make friends.
For me, maybe it would take time. But not for a good looking young fellow like yourself.
Oh, I don't know. You're a big broad-shouldered guy.
Yes, you're big. That's me.
How's the beer?
All right. Listen, do you know my wife?
Your wife?
Yeah. You know her? She...
Isn't she the one who checks the groceries?
Yeah.
Oh, very nice looking lady.
You think so?
Well, of course. Don't get me wrong. I mean it very sincerely.
Very nice, respectfully looking...
Listen, have you noticed anything funny going on there?
Funny?
Somebody's playing around with her. And I want to find out who.
With her?
You wouldn't think it now, would you?
No. I should say no.
I don't know who it is, but listen, haven't you noticed anything?
I mean, some guy who shoots the breeze with her or something like that?
No. No.
Then will you do me a favor?
Sure. What?
Keep your eyes open.
Oh, I will, Mr. Krauss. I promise you.
Ah. Ah. I'll find the guy.
I'll find out who he is if it takes a year.
And when I do, I'll kill him.
Good night.
Auto Light is bringing you Kirk Douglas in The Butcher's Wife.
Tonight's production in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
I say, Wilcox, you're keeping me in suspense.
Ah, but not for long, Remmingchester, old man.
I'll tell you here and now, you just can't find anything, man, beast, or battery,
to beat the liquid reserve of a genuine Auto Light staple battery.
That's a powerful statement, Wilcox.
That's a powerful battery, Remmingchester.
Needs water only three times a year in normal car use.
Extraordinary. Well, I must be on my way.
If I'm to find a more capacious camel, after all, life is short.
Not the life of the Auto Light staple battery.
With fiberglass retaining mats at every positive plate,
Auto Light staple batteries give 70% longer average life
than batteries without the staple features.
That's based on recent tests conducted according to SAE life cycle standards.
See your Auto Light dealer soon, friends, because you're always right with Auto Light.
And now, Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood soundstage our star, Kirk Douglas,
in The Butcher's Wife, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
See how it happens? You go along minding your own business,
trying to be a sweet guy in a whammy.
How pops the devil. The roof caves in in their yard.
The executioner's honing the axe and whistling to himself.
I tell you, I was nervous. My hands were sweating and my teeth were aching.
Well, if it hadn't been for needing the job bad,
I'd have put on my coat and high-tailed it out of there, but fast.
There was a situation.
Mary's looking over at me every now and then, giving me the big eyes.
The heck with you, baby. Get yourself another boy.
And Krauss is looking over, raising his eyeblows. Do I know who it is yet?
And I'm making a long face and shaking my head.
Then Nick, the vegetable man, comes over.
I see you didn't understand what I told you the other day.
What's that, Nick?
About Mary. I told you she was a married woman.
What are you talking about?
I see you. The both of you coming out of a bar the other morning.
You're nuts, Nick. Listen, I have...
Don't pull the hard face with me, Harry.
I ought to tip Krauss off to what's going on.
Nick, Nick, be a good guy, will you?
Be a good guy, will you? I'm telling you, you better be a good guy.
And leave the butcher's wife alone if you know what's good for you.
Look, I will, Nick. I will. I swear it. It was a mistake, that's all.
Yeah.
Oh, be a good guy, Nick. Forget about it.
All right. This once, OK.
But do it again and you'll get what's coming to you.
Sure, Nick. Sure.
And I'm not just talking.
Harry.
What?
Blow, will you? Blow.
Harry, I wish you wouldn't treat me this way.
Look, Blow, get away.
Look at me, Harry.
Don't you know your husband's watching you?
He's got his glasses off. He couldn't see Hollywood Bowl.
You better be nice to me, Harry.
Please, Mary. Please go back to your cash register.
I want to see you tonight.
No.
Oh, yes.
Look, understand me, Mary. You're poisoned. Now get away.
You'll see me, Harry, or you'll see Krauss.
All right. Where?
I'll be parked. Around the corner.
Around the corner.
Don't be late.
Oh, Harry.
Stop being silly. Come on, get in.
Look, please, can't you understand?
I don't want any trouble.
What are you so afraid of?
Trouble.
Oh, come on, baby. Let's go and have some fun.
Please, I...
What's the matter?
Oh.
Hello, Nick.
I warn you.
Listen, you've got it wrong, Nick.
Oh, no.
What is all this?
You shut up.
Don't you talk to me like that.
I talk to you like I please, cheek.
Harry.
Hit him, Harry.
I didn't hit him.
He was looking down his nose at me,
and he was a nice wide-open target,
but I didn't hit him.
Because all of a sudden, I knew what I had to do,
and I knew I had to do it fast.
Harry.
Hey, where are you going, baby?
I didn't turn.
Nick was still back there beside the car.
I went into the market.
Mr. Kraus.
Yeah?
I...
What?
I found out.
What? I can't hear you.
I said I found out.
I found out who it is.
Who?
Nick.
The vegetable man.
Yeah.
The vegetable man.
Yeah.
The vegetable man.
I knew yesterday, but I didn't want to get him in trouble.
I told him to lay off, but he said nuts.
He said if I opened my mouth,
he'd tell you it was me, that I was the one.
The vegetable man.
I'm sorry, Mr. Kraus.
I never did like him.
Well, good night.
Good night.
I took a bottle of brandy home with me.
No dinner.
I just laid around the bed about three hours,
talking to myself.
Finally, the heck with the job.
I got up, started the pack.
I was broke, but I didn't care.
I'd have to skip out of my rent,
but it didn't matter.
I didn't care.
I figured out from Kraus, from Mary, from Nick, and...
Suddenly, I figured that even if Nick was a snooping little rat
with his holier than now, I ought to clear him.
So I wrote a note to Kraus.
I said, I did it.
Kraus, don't blame anybody else.
I took the note in my bag and the key to the market
and I tiptoed out of the rooming house.
I caught a bus and went to the market.
The whole of Vard was deserted.
I looked into the glass door.
In the back of the place, up high,
there was a red neon beer sign that blinked on and off,
on and off.
I unlocked the door, went in,
and locked the door behind me.
The place was kind of eerie in the dark.
What with that red light blinking on and off.
One minute the place was pitch black
and the next it was a thousand little red lights
bouncing off the canned stuff in the grocery store.
I went to the butcher counter first.
I laid the note on the scale where you'd be sure to see it.
Then I crossed over past the vegetables and the bakery,
past the delicatessen to the liquor department.
It was dark and I kept bumping into things.
I thought, why am I acting like a criminal?
So I turned on the light.
The whole place was suddenly so dazzling, it hurt my eyes.
I looked at the cash register.
I was just thinking, maybe I'll take a couple of bucks.
When it happened,
I hadn't touched it.
There were other switches in the place hiding nowhere.
After the brightness, the place seemed twice as dark.
The red sign blinked on and off, on and off.
Then I saw Trous.
He was standing behind the meat counter at the scale.
He picked up the new my note.
I did it, Trous, and he read it.
I couldn't see his eyes, just the glasses.
Every time the light blinked, it shone red.
Bright red like some sort of terrible toy.
Then it began to move.
It was like a movie that you see one frame at a time.
Each time the light blinked down, he wasn't where he'd been before.
But closer, closer.
Trous!
Mr. Trous!
The red glasses kept coming at me.
I edged over toward the vegetables,
and he moved to...
I moved the other way toward the groceries.
There was a railing. I climbed over.
I was in one of the long, narrow aisles of cans and bottles.
The stuff was piled head high.
I waited, hoping maybe he didn't see me.
But he did.
I hid behind a stack of canned dog food.
He sounded 30 or 40 feet away.
I waited.
I looked around the corner.
He was looking down another aisle. I knocked my head back.
I couldn't understand that sound.
I looked again.
The aisle was empty, but in the center where Kraus had stood were his shoes.
He'd taken them off.
Very quietly, I bent and took mine off.
Then I began to chip through away from where I'd seen him.
And then I rounded the corner.
There he was, not two feet away with his back to me.
I lost my balance. I put my hand out to steady me.
A whole stack of cans went over.
I ran. I kept running, and there I was.
I was at the end of an aisle, and there was the wall, the back wall.
I turned, and he was coming, coming straight at me.
My hand put something cold, a bottle. I grabbed it.
It was ammonia.
Kraus, get back.
Get back, Kraus, or I'll blind you.
Kraus, I warn you. I swear I will.
No!
He stood there like a crazy giant,
like cyclops tearing at his eyes the ammonia running down his face.
I didn't wait. I ran past him, bumping him aside,
ran and ran and cut around the cash register,
passed delicatessen in the bakery to the door.
It was locked.
The key, I'd left it in the lock. It was gone.
I tried to break the glass with my fist,
but it was like steel.
I couldn't kick it. I'd left my shoes behind.
And Kraus kept coming, feeling his way along, moaning.
In the blinking light, I could see he still had the knife in his hand.
I slid behind the counter to meet him, under my feet, the sawdust.
I bent, scooped up a handful.
His face was awful, twisted and gleaming.
His glasses were gone and his eyes were screwed tight shut in pain.
He stopped ten feet away, swaying.
Then he opened his eyes, opened them as wide as he could
and moved his head from side to side, trying nearsightedly to see me.
Then his head stopped moving and holding it sideways,
using one eye to see me, he came on, the knife held way back.
I went... I... I...
I'd fly with the sawdust and jumped to one side,
my back up against the block, and he twisted and skidded in the sawdust and he fell.
He was very still for a moment.
I waited.
He rose to his knees.
In the blinking light, I saw the knife.
He'd fallen on it. It stuck out of the middle of his chest.
Kraus!
Then, very slowly, he got to his feet.
One hand over the place where the knife was and started towing me again.
There was a rack over the chopping block.
He reached up and got a cleaver.
I backed up.
Behind me, I felt a large cold handle.
The door to the meat storage room, I eased it open.
Inside, it was cold, bitter cold and dark.
In the center of the door was one small thick pane of glass.
It was clouded.
I wiped it clear with my hand and looked out.
Kraus stood there, his face an inch from mine, looking in.
And then his eyes rolled back and his face went slack and he fell out of sight.
He was dead.
I was sure.
I felt around in the dark for the knob, but I couldn't find it.
I felt the door from top to bottom.
There were bars and bolts and something that felt like a handle.
I can't and tug, but it wouldn't move.
There was a knife on the slab there.
I put your knife.
I felt around the door for a crack, slipped the knife in and twisted.
Broke off.
Another door, I thought.
Maybe there's...oh, please.
Another door out of this place.
I began to search for it in the dark, feeling along the icy damp walls.
I walked into something cold that moved when I touched it.
Oh, the sight of beef.
But no door.
I moved farther, another icy cold thing.
And I moved on and came up against another.
Cold as the rest, but...
And I'm crazy.
I know it.
I'm crazy.
This one...this one feels as though it's wearing silk stockings.
So here I am.
It's awfully cold.
Cold as a witch's heart.
Cold as a tomb.
This thing I have in my hand is knife handle.
I wish it had a blade.
I know what I do, I know, but it hasn't.
Anyway, I'm innocent of anything.
They'll believe me.
They will.
There's a letter outside on the scale.
It says, I did it, Kraus.
Don't blame anybody else.
And there's my suitcase.
Well, that'll prove I meant to go away and not cause anybody a hard time.
And there's...
Oh, time goes slow.
And while I'm waiting and waiting and waiting,
I'll tell myself the whole story again.
And again, it'll give me something to do, you know.
Something to think about.
You see, it started the first day of the job.
I was clerking the liquor department at the supermarket.
I hadn't been to Los Angeles a week.
My brother, when I left New York, had given me this letter to a friend of his.
You know, a guy who owned a string of these supermarkets.
The letter was about, could he use me?
I was a good fellow. He counted the favor, you know.
The guy had this opening a liquor clerk.
It was the first day and I'd come to Los Angeles.
I could be a short time...
Suspense!
Presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, Kirk Douglas.
Remmingchester.
Nice, hey.
You gave me a star.
No, I didn't, Remmingchester old man.
Must have been your new Auto Light's day full battery.
The battery that needs water only three times a year in normal car use.
Just the thing for starting right.
And remember, it's just one of more than 400 products made by Auto Light for cars, trucks, planes and boats in 28 plants, coast to coast.
These include complete electrical systems for many makes of America's finest cars.
Batteries, spark plugs, generators, coils, distributors, starting motors, Auto Light bullseye, sealed beam headlights.
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Though don't I accept electrical parts supposed to be as good, ask for and insist on Auto Light original factory parts at your neighborhood service station, car dealer, garage or repair shop.
Remember, you're always right with Auto Light.
Next Thursday for Suspense, Marlena Dietrich will be our star.
The play is called Murder Strikes Three Times 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 Lucian Morrowek and conducted by Lud Bluskin.
The Butcher's Wife is an original play for radio by James Pohl.
Kirk Douglas, whose throwing performance in Champion has placed him among the Academy Award contenders, will soon be seen in Young Man with a Horn.
You can buy Auto Light staple batteries, Auto Light regular or 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.