Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present Suspense.
Tonight, Auto Light brings you Blood on the Trumpet, a suspense play starring Mr. William Holden,
with special trumpet effects by the famous Ziggy Elman.
I don't get to this part of New Orleans much, Sergeant Juno.
I used to come and listen to jazz once in a while.
Who's been on the case?
Me and Lieutenant Angelini. We've been on it steady for 48 hours.
This the place, Juno?
Well, yes, is it?
It's not exactly a respectable looking hotel.
When a man runs from murder, Casdu, he can't stop to live in style.
Who found the body?
Landlady, she called him.
Messy, huh?
When you beat somebody's head in with a thing like a trumpet, it's real messy.
All right, Casdu, this is it.
You want me to kick it in?
No, uh-uh.
Put your horn down, Vic. This is Sergeant Juno of the New Orleans Police.
Put the horn down.
Come out, kid. Come out with no monkey business.
Let me break it down.
No way.
The police. Oh, I'm glad it's the police.
I'm so glad it's the police and not him.
Vic, in the presence of police officer Casdu, I arrest you for the murder of your wife.
In just a moment, Mr. William Holden in the first act of Blood on the Trumpet.
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You feel okay now, V?
How's a guy supposed to feel when he's arrested for murder?
Want a cigarette?
No.
You've done a good job on her, boy.
Thanks.
Oh, here's my report, Casio. Get the Steno to type up three carbons and give one to Lieutenant Angelini.
Angelini?
Yeah, Vic, Lieutenant Angelini. He's the big boy in charge of the case. Very famous New Orleans.
Yeah, I've heard of him. Eichstad told me about him.
All right, Vic. Let's start from the reason why you killed Sarah, your wife.
Why? I didn't have a reason. It just happened. We had a fight.
I don't know. I'm all mixed up.
Come on, Vic, boy. Try hard for Sergeant Juno.
Go back to when it started.
When it started? Who can say when it started?
Maybe it started the first day I married Sarah. My own mind, I don't know.
Or maybe it started when I started playing trumpet at Lou Eichstad's club down in the French Quarter.
They call me great. Real great. The best trumpet since Beiderbecker Armstrong.
Everybody thought so. Everybody. Everybody but Sarah, my wife.
She didn't. She had different ideas about it.
She couldn't understand a man loving music.
Has-been. You're a has-been. Only you never went anywhere to be a has-been.
You were always a second-rate hornblower and you'll never be anything else. Do you hear me? Never anything else.
Oh, Sarah, these walls are like paper. So let them hear. I don't care.
Let them know what a bum I've got for a husband.
I'm sick of your talk. I'm sick of you.
Turn that lousy record off. Leave it on.
Sarah, you've got cotton in your ears. I said leave it on.
All day long the same record around and around. I said put it back on.
It makes me sick. Sarah!
Always the same song and dance. A little time, Sarah. A little time.
Sarah, please. You're a dreamer. You blow pipe dreams through that horn you play.
Shut up! Wait, Sarah, wait. My ship will come in.
Sure, I'll wait. While I'm waiting you beat your brains out blowing a horn in a cheap dive.
Your ship sunk and you don't know it.
You know something? I wish I was dead.
To hear that trumpet man, I wish I was dead.
Sarah, when you talk like that, I wish I could kill you myself and make your wish come true.
For five years the same argument over and over and the same words, they never changed.
I was late getting to the club, but I didn't care.
Sarah talking to me like that.
The first set I was so sore I didn't need anything to make me hop, I blew that horn by the beat of my blood.
We got our first break after the second set and Lou, the owner of the club, came over and took my arm.
Said he had somebody he wanted me to meet.
Oh, over here, Vic, my great trumpet man.
What's up, Lou?
Oh, a girl's up, Vic. A music lover who'd like to meet you.
Miss Luana Doran, meet my trumpet man, Victor Roberts.
How do you do?
Hi.
Sit down, Victor, sit down. Talk some music. Talk some old time jazz.
Entertain Miss Doran, Victor. Talk about the jazz we play.
Yeah, yeah.
Sit down, Vic.
Thanks.
Buy your drink.
Is water strong enough?
You're good on that trumpet, Vic.
Think so?
Mm-hmm.
Pin a metal on me.
Hey, look, horn boy, you don't have to sit here and talk to me.
Oh, I'm sorry. I tell you what I'll do, Miss Doran.
I'll let you buy me that drink and you can tell me the story of your life.
That sounds like a bargain.
She ordered up and we sat and talked.
She told me the story. It was a brutal one.
A sick father and a rotten mother.
So to get away from it all, she married young.
A musician that had had a sickness beside music.
He drank himself to death.
But from him, she'd learned something.
She'd learned to love music, which was why she canvassed jazz joints.
She said she'd been in every night for almost two weeks now listening to our combo.
She thought we were good.
Particularly the bright boy on the trumpet, me.
The guys were moving up to the next set, so I made my excuses and left her.
Blue Eichstadt stopped me by the platform.
Lay off, Vic. It's no good.
I don't know what you're talking about.
I'm talking about trouble as another guy.
A rough guy. A guy that's a mean cop.
A guy that doesn't deserve the name cop and he wants her bad.
He comes in every night, sits over in that corner and watches her.
I don't see him tonight.
Rico Angelini is a bad name for you to mix with.
Look, Lou, take it easy. I just met her.
Lay off, Vic. Go home to sary your wife.
We finished the last set about one.
The table where Lou Ann had been sitting was empty.
Then one of the waiters came up and handed me a napkin.
I looked at it.
It had an address written on it in lipstick.
Blood red lipstick.
Capitular Hotel, Canal Street.
I started to fold it up and toss it away, but then suddenly I thought about Sarah.
And I didn't toss it away.
I shoved it in my pocket and walked out.
It took me 15 minutes to get back to the boarding house.
The light up in our room was still on and Sarah was still up.
And just like that, against the pull down shade, I saw two shadows.
One was the shadow of Sarah.
And the other, the shadow of a man.
I choked and my breath came hard.
My Sarah, my own Sarah with some other guy.
I waited five minutes. Ten minutes.
Then the light snapped out.
I went up the stairs, onto the porch, and ducked behind a swing.
The front door opened and the outline of a big guy came out and went down the steps.
I couldn't see his face, but as he passed under the street lamp, I could see he was wearing a green checkered shirt collar.
Sarah, my own sweet little nagging wife, two-timing me, playing me for a sap.
I took the napkin out of my pocket.
Thanks, Sarah, for helping me to decide.
Then I went where the lipstick told me.
Hi, trumpet man.
Hi.
Did the lipstick smudge?
I'm here. It didn't smudge.
Want to come in?
Lou Eichstadt says to lay off.
He's your father, maybe?
What do you want?
A ride. How about a ride in my fast car, Vic?
A ride this time of morning?
I know a little place where they serve good black coffee.
I've had kind of a rough time tonight. I'm tired.
Too tired for some good black coffee?
This is all crazy. I...
A cup of black coffee and small talk?
I like your looks. That's all.
That's all? You think that's all?
Down by the wharf?
That's my last offer, trumpet man.
I asked for it, didn't I?
We went down and got into her car, and she headed straight for the wharf.
At Cirello's, the lights were low, the music was soft, and the coffee was good.
We sat and talked, and pretty soon we got back into her car and drove close to the river.
She stopped the car and looked up at me.
Her eyes were real black.
She moved her lips close to mine.
Those blood red lips.
What's Angelini?
How did you know? Oh, Lou Eichstad, I get it.
Who is he? What is he?
A cop. I met him somewhere one night. He's called me a couple of times, but that's all.
That's all?
That's all, trumpet man. Nothing ever like this.
Vic, let's go away, just you and I.
That's not possible.
Why? Tell me why it isn't possible.
I have a wife.
Now it makes a difference, doesn't it?
No, Vic. No, it doesn't.
Why should it make a difference?
I don't know. I just thought maybe it would.
Vic, this can be for keeps.
You really mean it, don't you?
Let's go away, and you'll see how much I mean it.
Let's go away together.
Leave her. We'll go away and start something new.
I'm all mixed up in my mind.
I meet you one night. You don't even know me. We hardly know each other.
I like the way you look.
Vic, let's go away. Let's go away in a little while.
I don't know.
I'll wait for you, Vic. I'll wait for you at the hotel.
I... All right.
All right, baby, you wait for me at the hotel.
I'll wait for you.
Press hard on my lips, Vic.
Real hard, just like you do when you're trumpet.
Something that had been hard for me to settle was easy now.
I was through with Sarah, my great big headache.
I was finished, and she wouldn't yell at me anymore, or cheat anymore.
I could go away now.
Go away from her.
I could go away now.
Go away from her and her nagging voice.
Away from Sarah, and away from hate.
You, Vic?
Yeah, me, Vic.
Where have you been all night?
It's four o'clock in the morning.
Your voice makes me sick.
What should I think?
What should you think?
I'm no good bum husband who stays out all night.
Now, be quiet for one minute, and I'll tell you a secret, my sinful wife.
I'm leaving you. I'm going away.
You're going away?
You're insane. What do you think?
Oh, it's time, Sarah.
I finally woke up from that crazy sleep I was in.
I'm leaving you.
So, you're leaving me.
Yes, I'm leaving you.
We don't make the right kind of music anymore.
Music. Is that what you call it?
No, it's not music.
It's a hell. That's all it's ever been.
Do you hear me?
Everything I've ever done, every sacrifice I've ever made
in just a simple sentence, you make, it's all over.
Just as simple as that.
Maybe it just isn't music.
Maybe it's something else.
Like maybe another woman.
Sarah.
I knew it. I smelled it.
Someone else. That's it, isn't it, Vick?
Sarah, stop it. Don't say another word.
Who is she?
Some music lover you picked up?
Who is she? Answer me.
Be quiet.
Who is she? Who is she, you dirty chick?
I said be quiet.
You make me sick.
You hit me.
I'll show you, you dirty lass.
I'll show you.
Stop it, sir. Stop your ruff.
I'll switch you.
You...
Sarah.
Get up, Sarah. I didn't mean to...
Sarah.
I said to get up.
I didn't...
Sarah, what's the matter?
Why don't you...
Sarah, you're bleeding.
I didn't mean to, Sarah.
No. No, Sarah. No.
No. No.
Auto Light is bringing you Mr. William Holden in Blood on the Trumpet,
tonight's production in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Winter, winter, quite contrary.
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I'm sorry.
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And now Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage, Mr. William Holden and Elliot
Lewis's production of Blood on the Trumpet.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Something banged against my head.
I turned over on my back and opened my eyes.
And then I sat up.
I was in bed and the banging noise became a shade flapping against the window of a cheap
hotel where I was hiding out.
I got up off the bed and moved over to the window.
The clock down across the street said 2.30.
The sun was high and hot.
I remember running from a boarding house last night, running until I found this cheap hotel.
What does a killer do?
He runs.
He runs from everything.
I found a nickel in my pants pocket.
And on this nickel I pinned my hopes for survival.
I call Luana.
Hello?
Luana Vic.
What happened, Trumpet boy?
Is she talking you out of it?
Luana, wait.
Please listen to me.
Now listen to me, folks, and try not to get excited.
Hey, you sound as if...
Luana, Luana, look.
After I left you, I was in the bathroom.
I was in the bathroom.
After I left you, I went home to tell Sarah I was leaving her.
She got mad.
She got real mad.
So, well, I got a little rough.
And what I did, I didn't mean to do.
Baby, Vic, what is it?
What happened?
I hit her a couple of times.
I hit her and she fell.
And I...
Vic.
It was an accident.
A mistake, Luana.
I didn't mean it.
I don't know how it happened.
It was so fast.
I just got mad.
Vic, Vic, baby.
Luana, listen.
I've got to get out of town.
I've got to run.
I can't go back to the house.
Where are you?
Some cheap hotel, the Piedmont, just off Decatur.
I need money.
You've got to help me.
What can I do?
Get me enough money to get us out of town.
But, Vic.
You said it.
Last night you said we'd go away together.
Vic.
Meet me.
When?
Half an hour.
No, no.
You better stay right there.
No one will spot you.
Stay where you are till it's dark.
Then meet me.
Where and at what time?
Tonight at seven o'clock when it gets dark.
Down near the end of the coffee stand in the Cafe du Monde.
All right.
Tonight at seven.
I'll come near the end of the stand where it's dark.
I hung up.
I couldn't stay in the hotel.
My picture was probably spread over every paper in town.
Maybe the clerk remembered me coming in.
I'd better get out and move around.
I went down to Decatur Street.
It was starting to fill with late afternoon shoppers.
I walked up and down the streets until four o'clock.
And then I found an almost empty cafe and went in and ordered a cup of coffee.
I was sitting there staring ahead trying to clear my mind when suddenly I felt a big fabby
hand grip my shoulder.
I turned and looked up into the beady gray eyes of the Batman with the green checkered
shirt collar.
Why did you do it, Vic?
I jumped up and with all my strength I shoved both arms straight out and hit him in the
stomach.
I could feel both of my fists sink into the pounds and pounds of flesh.
And then he was reeling backward knocking over chairs and people.
And I was running out the door and down the street.
I slowed down mixing in with the people pushing along.
How was it possible?
The guy that had been up in that room with my wife.
Was it just a coincidence that he found me or was he really looking for me?
Time.
Before I had no time.
Now I had too much of it.
I passed a movie theater.
I stopped.
Keep off the streets until dark.
That was it.
I went in.
I don't even remember the name of the picture.
I couldn't even concentrate on it.
Because all the time I kept thinking about the fat man.
What did he want with me?
Was it really just a coincidence that he'd spotted me?
The picture ended and the lights went up.
I crouched down low in my seat staring straight ahead.
And then out of the corner of my eye I saw him.
He was walking up the aisle looking up each row of seats.
He was looking for me.
I turned my head and held my hand up to the side of my face.
He was coming closer now.
He was at the next row.
The lights went out and the news wheel started.
I moved quick.
I stumbled into the aisle and out in the lobby and got lost in the crowd of people leaving
the show.
It was no use.
I couldn't shake him.
Everywhere I turned he was there.
What did he want?
Did he want to kill me?
Kill me for murdering Sarah?
Was that it?
But that was my own business.
If I wanted to kill my wife, that was my business.
Oh no, no.
Bad reasoning.
I hadn't wanted to kill her.
I just...
I ran until I thought my legs would drop.
And then it was seven o'clock and I was down by the pier.
There were a few people drinking coffee at the stand.
I walked down to the far end and then I saw her coming.
Luana.
Vic.
Over here.
Oh Vic, you're crazy.
The cops are looking all over for you.
I don't care about the cops.
It's him.
What are you talking about?
The guy that was with Sarah, the big fat guy.
He's after me.
All day long he's been after me.
Luana, we gotta get out of here.
Vic, you're crazy.
You're all mixed up.
You don't know what you're talking about.
I'm not mixed up, Luana.
I tell you, he's looking for me right now.
Any minute he might show up.
Vic, maybe you better give yourself up.
Maybe it would...
For you.
Don't you understand?
I did this for you.
I didn't ask you to kill her.
I didn't...
Vic, stop it.
You're hurting me.
All I need now is for you to turn against me.
Vic, let me go.
Let me...
Luana.
Luana, come back.
Please come...
Back.
For you.
I did it for you, you dirty filthy...
Hello, Victor.
What do you want?
What do you want from me?
I wanna give what's coming to you, killer.
I'll get you now, killer.
I'll get you now.
Because you finally cracked.
It was no good.
I just couldn't run anymore.
Everywhere I turned, he was there.
I was being hunted by a guy with murder in his heart.
Can you understand that, Juno?
I made it back to the hotel and I was waiting for him when you guys showed up.
I never knew I'd be so glad to see the police.
Never knew I'd be so glad.
The girl turns you in, Vic.
Luana.
She cried, Victor.
She cried when she told us where he was.
I guess maybe she did right.
Yeah, I guess she did.
All right, sign this confession.
Caswell, call in Lieutenant Angelini.
Lieutenant, wanna come in and look at the killer?
Hello, Vic.
It's you.
The fat guy.
Take it easy, Vic.
Boy, take it easy.
Why?
He made me go out of my mind.
A cop was chasing me.
I just wanted to see a killer run, Vic.
Sign the confession, Vic.
No.
No, this confession is all wrong.
The part about the trumpet.
This is all wrong.
I didn't hit her with a trumpet.
Come on, trumpet boy, sign.
No, Angelini, I won't sign it.
I didn't hit her with a trumpet.
You're crazy.
I won't.
Something smells.
Hey, look, you.
I'm tired.
You give me a good chase.
You make a confession.
Now you sign it.
No, I won't do it.
This isn't what I said.
I never said anything about hitting her with a trumpet.
I hit her with my fist and she...
You're crazy.
You murdered your wife in cold blood.
You went up there after you finished at the club.
You had an argument.
Then you smashed her head in with a trumpet.
Then you wiped the blood off the trumpet.
Hey, wait a second, Angelini.
Shut up, Juno.
Can't you see this guy's stalling?
Now, come on, killer.
No, I won't shut up, Angelini.
Hey, now listen.
My typed report's still on my desk.
You haven't read it yet.
Well, so what if I have?
So I was the guy that went up there and tapped her body.
When I got back, I briefed you.
I made the report out.
You just said you didn't read it.
Well, there was something in that report I didn't bother to tell you about.
I didn't think it was that important.
I didn't tell you that the blood had been wiped off of the trumpet.
There were only two people who knew that.
Me, Lieutenant Angelini.
Me and the killer.
Why, you...
Juno, it was Angelini.
Are you lousy, Juno?
Oh, it fits.
What Luana said to me, what Lou Eichstead said, it fits.
This guy framed me.
I'll break your neck.
Take it easy, Angelina.
He was nuts for her.
Only she couldn't see him for dust.
He must have spotted me that first night with her.
He followed me.
He was the guy Sarah was with when I got home.
He was waiting for me.
I'll kill you.
Grab him, Captain.
You grab him.
Lieutenant, easy.
Filthy trumpet boy.
Filthy.
You framed me, Angelini.
Why?
Look at me, trumpet man.
Look hard at my extra flesh and tell me why I would frame a man like you.
Luana, your wife wasn't dead when I went up there the second time.
Her head was cut on the side.
She was bleeding.
She wasn't dead.
You're under arrest, Angelini.
I can't say I'm sorry you're a disgrace to the family.
I can't say I'm sorry you're a disgrace to the force.
All right, Vic, that's all I need from you.
You can go now.
Hey, you.
She's waiting for you outside.
Luana.
And she's crying for you.
Juno.
Right, Sergeant Juno?
Hey, you think if maybe I wasn't so fat, she would have cried some tears for me.
Sure, Angelini, sure.
She might have cried for you.
Suspense presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, Mr. William Holden.
Friends, this is Harlow Wilcox, and now I'd like you to meet our star, William Holden.
Thanks for the curtain call, Harlow.
I was hoping you would invite me to say a few words.
About your new Paramount Picture Union station, no doubt.
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Bill, that's the best curtain speech you could make, but you'll need more than a few words.
I know, Harlow.
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Music
Next week on Suspense, Mr. Cary Grant, a star of On a Country Road.
And in weeks to come, you will hear such famous stars as Ozzie Nelson and Harriet Hilliard and Van Heflin,
appearing in tales well calculated to keep you in...
Suspense!
Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis, with music composed by Lucien Mora Weck and conducted by Lud Gluskin,
with special trumpet effects by Ziggy Elman.
Blood on the trumpet was written for Suspense by Richard George Pedicini.
And remember, next week on Suspense, Mr. Cary Grant in On a Country Road.
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Auto Light electrical parts at your neighborhood Auto Light dealers. Switch to Auto Light. Good night.
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