Now let's see.Suspect.Suspectant.Suspend.Ah, here we are.Suspense.The condition of mental uncertainty.Usually accompanied by apprehension or anxiety.Fear of something which is about to occur as... Do not keep me any longer in suspense.
Hello and welcome to Stars on Suspense, with another Hollywood legend in radio's outstanding theater of thrills. Our leading man this week is Herbert Marshall, who's back for his seventh appearance on the podcast.
Marshall was practically part of the furniture on Suspense.He starred in the 1940 audition program that spawned the series, and he went on to make 20 appearances on the show between 1944 and 1959.
Today, we'll hear two more of his starring turns from Suspense, along with an episode of his own old-time radio adventure series. First up is The Man Within, adapted from the 1929 novel by Graham Greene, and originally aired on CBS on April 27, 1953.
Marshall stars as a smuggler who's just fled the scene of an altercation that left a man dead.
He seeks refuge at the home of a woman, and for a moment, it seems like the two may be able to forge a future together, if his cowardice won't get in the way.
She wants him to testify against his former comrades in crime, but he fears their reprisals.It's an unusual story for suspense.
Announcer Larry Thor introduces it as the nightmare world of a coward, and the main struggle is the inner turmoil Marshall's character faces about whether or not he should testify.
But even if it's not a traditional suspense story, it's a great piece of radio drama, with a script by Morton Fine and David Friedkin, a pair of writers we've heard from many times on the podcast, and direction from Elliot Lewis.
The cast includes Betty Harford as the woman Marshall loves, and Ben Wright as the man he may betray. Then we'll hear Herbert Marshall in Action from October 5, 1953.
It's an adaptation of a story by Charles Montagu, and it stars Marshall as a wealthy man who's starting to face his own mortality.He doesn't want to grow old and infirm, so he plans to go out on his own terms during the summit of a steep ice cliff.
He's made up his mind to die until he makes a discovery when he's up on the mountain.Action was performed twice before over on Escape.
And while it's a story that's probably better suited for that show, this suspense production is great, thanks in no small part to Herbert Marshall's performance.And we'll close this episode with an adventure of the man called X.
The series starred Herbert Marshall as Ken Thurston, a debonair, globetrotting secret agent.We'll hear the episode that aired on NBC on May 4th, 1951, one that brings Thurston to Monaco for his latest international adventure.
Our Herbert Marshall triple feature begins with Graham Greene's The Man Within, right after these messages.
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And now, a tale well calculated to keep you in... Suspense.
Autolite and its 98,000 dealers bring you Mr. Herbert Marshall in tonight's presentation of... Suspense.
Tonight, Autolight presents the nightmare world of a coward, as we bring you Graham Greene's study in fear, The Man Within.Our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall.
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And now, Autolight presents The Man Within, starring Mr. Herbert Marshall, hoping once again to keep you in suspense.
After a while, after I lay there in the long grass, after the end to running for a while from death, night came and with it the fear.And later I said to myself, who are you?And I answered, you are a hunted man and you are going to die.
Carlisle will find you and he will kill you.Then I got up and I ran some more.Then there was a house.There was a wall around it of stone and separating the house from the woods.
And there was a flame of candle on the ledge of one of the windows and I thought I saw inside a room a shadow move.Then stay dark and motionless.It was a house And I was tired.It was a shelter.And I was afraid.
And outside here, somewhere, was Carl Iron.
Get away.I'll kill you.Please.I wouldn't be afraid to do it.I've learned to use this gun.
I want a hiding place.I'm being followed.
You can't stop here.You'd better go the way you came.
But I can't.They'd get me.Look here, I'm on the side of the law. It's not the officers who are after me.Oh, don't you see?
Get back.You can't stay here.Now turn around and go out.
When I get you, I'll teach you charity.I told you to... I'll teach you.Now, now I have it, miss.
No.Yes.But I wasn't going to kill you.I pointed it at the sky.You saw that.
Yes.You're very frightened, aren't you?
I don't want to die out there. A man named Carlisle.
It's too much.It's too much.
He's my father, dead in his coffin.He died this morning.
I've never seen a dead man before like this, face to face.
Tomorrow morning the people will come, the villagers, and I will bury him. My father must be terribly alone now.
You can stay if you like.There's no one I'll tell.
It's just that I need to hide.
There's a shed, that door there, and you can hide.Now listen to me.You are my brother, do you see?Tomorrow at the funeral, everyone will come here and they will see you.And you will tell them that you are my brother.
All right. What should I call you?Your name?
And tomorrow when they ask, you heard of our father's illness and you came back this morning after years in the city and watched him die.I don't know why.
I don't know why I've helped you as much as I have.
Afraid of me, that's why.
It was not fear.It would be a fool who'd be afraid of you.I suppose I was tired of being alone.
Then she led me to a shed where I was to sleep.And then she went away from me to some upstairs room of the cottage.And in an instant, I slept.And my awakening, a swiftly running current of voices.The villagers gathered to the funeral.
An undertaker's man shutting the coffin lid casually as a man shuts a book. Then the nailing of it, with no air of finality.Then village men to carry it from the cottage, place it in a farm cart.
And with dark Elizabeth beside me, Elizabeth who was now a sister to me, walk into a wall of white mist that melted before me, closed behind me.
And our footsteps sounding no louder than the drip of misty rain that fell from trees and bushes along our road.Then reach the burying place.
Stand beside the dark Elizabeth in the misty graveyard, and be aware that yet, somewhere outside my mind, but ready to leap within the fear, the tempest of fear, the fear of Caol Ion.
O holy and merciful Saviour, Thou most worthy Judge Eternal, suffer us not at our last hour for any pains of death to fall from Thee.
The mist opened a little, and I could see the fields.There was no car lion, and I stood alone, wanting to turn and run and put a wall of mist between me and that gathering of strangers.Loneliness and fear were like the emptiness of hunger.
Only six steps away, and I would be lost to all the world in a blanket of white wool.But then, I would be lonely again.
Take me away from here.Take me home, brother.
Food.Have you any food?I haven't had any for 15 hours.
There's tea and bread in the cupboard.I'll get it.
There's no reason why I should shut you out.I've been alone. You're better than no one, even you.Tea, bread, butter.Eat, Andrews.
The reason I came back with you... Fear.
And something else.I'll tell you, and you can laugh at me.I was homesick for here.I'm not making love to you.It wasn't you.It was just the place.I slept here, and I hadn't slept before for three days. Elizabeth.
Why I like you.Of whom are you frightened?
Of whom are you frightened?
Of death.And it is a man I know.A man named Carlion.
Of another man you are frightened.
Carlion.A man with a voice as near to music as any voice I've ever heard.Except for yours.A man who...
What's that?You're imagining things.Can't you whisper?Let go of me.
Do you want to tell the whole world I'm here?
There.Didn't you hear that?Into the shed, quick.The place where you slept.There's no door, you fool.There are shadows and darkness.Find one to hide in you and your fear.Well?
Forgive me. I'm completely lost in this fog.
One can't be too careful around here.You're not alone.
I'm alone?My brother's just gone out.He's not far.I can easily call to him if you don't go.
You mustn't be afraid of me.Perhaps I know your brother.Is he a little over the middle height?Slightly built, dark, with frightened, obstinate eyes?
That's not my brother.He's short and squat and very strong.
Then I'm not looking for your brother.He must have been here very lately.His tea is hot.And he left in a hurry with his tea unfinished.Curious if we didn't meet.
That's my cup you have.Will you allow me to finish it?
I'm sorry I didn't meet your brother.
There's another door.That's the shed, and there are only tools and withered plants.The man you described, the frightened, obstinate man,
He slept here last night.
He went for the morning.North, I think.I don't know.
He may return here, then.
I don't think so.The frightened man who was here... A sort of Judas.He was afraid of you.
He's an informer.And because of him, six men are in jail on a charge of murder.There was a fight, and a customs guard was shot, poor devil.This man, Andrews... Yes?He spoiled everything. Three of us escaped.Harry Frawley, who is with me.St.
Andrews, the informant.He's made of us jailbirds and fugitives and murderers.The man killed because of smuggled casks of brandy.What a dull, dirty game he's made it all appear.
I should talk with him.Make sure I was right.And then... What?I should kill him. He was laughing at me the whole time we were friends.I told him all the things I liked, shared what I loved with him.
I can only make him forget what I told him by killing him.You say he went north?
If he comes back, do not shelter him or warn him.Stay with peace.Stay alive.
This knife.I would have killed him.
And you, if you were told... Oh, coward, coward, coward.
What he said, is it true?
If you heard him, he would kill me.
You informed.And whatever your reason, you were driven to the side of the law.Well, stay there.Go into the open.And bear witness against the men they've caught.
Carlisle will kill me.Do you understand?Do you?
Each of a coward is cold.
I want to stay.I want to live.
A coward's hand on my cheek and it is cold.
Let go of me.The fog is gone.The sky is quite clear and I can see six stars.
Because I want you to love me.
And you will go to town and bear witness, testify at the trial.
A long walk to the town.You must sleep where you slept last night.Good night, Andrews.
Autolite is bringing you Mr. Herbert Marshall in Graham Greene's The Man Within.Tonight's presentation in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
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To quickly locate him, just phone Western Union by number and ask for Operator 25.And remember, from bumper to tail light, you're always right with Autolite.
And now, Autolight brings back to our Hollywood soundstage a production of The Man Within.A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
And bring up more whiskey for the lad.No, I'd rather have food.Whiskey, whiskey for the appetite.Now, Mr. Andrews, I must tell you, you're a very brave man.
No, no I'm not.A coward. She said so.
Oh, who said such a ridiculous thing?
Nobody.It doesn't matter.
It's in the viewpoint.To me, you are brave to come here to my rooms as you did.Because she told me to come.
It seems... It seems that it is necessary I change somehow so that she can love me.To be a man.
I see.I'll do my best for you.I've taken a room for you here at the inn.
But I won't go back to her.You understand that?
If she will love you now, then why?
The fear.Carlisle is not caught.He will find me.After tomorrow, I must get away.
You will have the whole of England to drop into.But I must tell you this.
Forget smuggling when this is over.Act honestly in the future.
Don't pray to me.Don't talk to me of honesty.You're not risking your life at this trial, as I am.And don't you be impertinent.
You're doing this to save your own skin, else you'd stand trial tomorrow like the rest. Ah, drink your whiskey.Go to bed.
My name is Francis Andrews.
Very informal.Order!Order in the court!Where were you on the night of February 10th? On board the ship, good chance.What were you doing there?
I was engaged in smuggling.We were to run a cargo that night, so as not to pay the duty.Tell the court what happened that night.I helped load the dinghy with the casts of brandy.Then I got in with them and helped row to shore.
When they began to unload the cargo, I slipped away.There was no moon.It was very dark and they did not see me.They didn't see me go.I got away among the dunes and hid. Then I ran again.To where?To a house on the moors that I found there.
To a girl who was in it.Elizabeth.
Tell us about the letter, Mr. Andrews.
Two days before, I had sent an anonymous letter to the officer in charge, stating the time and the exact place and who... Judge of this court, order!
Another question, Mr. Andrews.How long have you been in your profession? Three years.And you hated what you were doing?Yes.Why didn't you leave then?
I had nowhere to go.And no money.
Did it ever occur to you to work honestly?No.
Why did you first join?Friendship for a man.A man who you're not caught.Carl Iron.
The man in front of these others in the dark who you betrayed?
Then what were your motives for laying information with the revenue?
The men hated me.All of them. Except Carlion.Oh, go on.And I was afraid of being hurt, and I hated the sea and the noise and the danger.And I wanted to show these men that I was someone to be considered, that I had the power to smash all their plans.
And your friend Carlion, did you do nothing to warn him?It was a case of him or me.That is all, Mr. Andrews.
Will the defense cross-examine?No?You may step down, Mr. Andrews. You may continue, Sir Henry.
I call the prisoner Jason Collier.
So he was called, Jason Collier, and sworn in.He refused to talk, as did the two who came after him.Instead, they looked at me, and each in his turn smiled, smiled.I could not understand why.And the courtroom became very hot, the faces blobs,
And time became drone of voices and but accused and denied.Accused again.Ebbed.They were found guilty.Then through streets filled with jeering, an officer to escort me.Through succession of back doors and dirty lanes, through stables.
Then the white heart and the room I had in it. Light its darkness with candle, and in the floating wisps of its rays, an image.In mirror, an image.Informer.Brave, courageous informer.And the mirror shadow, coward, coward.Still coward.
Fear-ridden man, fear-sick man.Because Carlion was free.Carlion alive. In Carlyon's hands, still my death.Coward!And no love from Elizabeth for a coward.Room.Candle dancing with fear.Shadow drifting with fear.
Andrews.So there you are.Harry.Harry Frawley.Knife says stay where you are unless you want to squeak to a new tune. There are officers in this hotel.What do you want, Harry?Why do you want to quarrel?I'm here to do you a service straight, I am.
You're out.You ain't very grateful.Don't you want to hear my news?What news?You shouldn't have squealed.Not on the others.
It was like your mother, you might say, when we used to see and see storms and things made you whisper, whimper, like a pudding baby.You were a squeaker, you were.You said you had news.Of Carlyon.I've finished with him.
But he ain't finished with you.Look.Don't interrupt, Squeaker.Now I've got the roll of it.It's like this.Carlyle ain't finished with you.Nor with your ladybird.What do you mean?Your ladybird.The one of the cottage in the mists.Her.Do you call her?
Elizabeth.Elizabeth.Pity.To shelter a Squeaker and then to die.Pity, pity.
Carl Lyon wouldn't do anything to her.I know he wouldn't.
He'll be off to give it to her tomorrow or the next day.You're lying.It's a trap to get me to go back to her, so Carl Lyon will catch me.But I won't.I won't go back, I tell you.Carl Lyon, it'll soon kill you as you look at her.
But he says killing's too good for you.He says you ought to have some fun with you first.He says... Elizabeth... Tell him I'll not go back.Tell him it's no use laying that trap for me.Good. I've brought you Carlyon's news, and we're quit.
And silence now, and again alone.And the coward's image to reach for mirror, offer its embrace.Its only whisper, only a trap.Why such a trap for a coward who's only repelled by danger? Carl Lyon would not kill a woman.Carl Lyon.
Snuff a candle and its images.Leave the hotel.Walk with no fear of death but a terror of life.Without escape, without will, walk.And reach the downs as a first orange glow lifted above the eastern horizon.Then run to stifle thought.
Run fast until there's no more breath.
Only the flinging down again upon salt tufts of grass and cool And silver sky touched now with green.Up and run again!Then, the house, and the wall around it, and an opening door, and Elizabeth.
Oh yes, I can see that.I get you tea.
From that cup. That was the cup we both drank from.
Not that one.I remember the one.It had a chip out of the rim.This one.Come.Bread, tea, here.Tell me, what are you doing here?
Has anything happened since I've been away?
No, nothing ever happens here.
The door was unbolted. Do you think that's safe?
It was unbolted when you first came.I didn't want a less warm welcome for you when you came back.
You knew I would come back.
You laugh at me.You despise me.You know that I'm a coward.I betrayed you.
How have you betrayed me?
It came out in court that you sheltered me.
I betrayed you.I told them you sheltered me.And now Carlisle means to punish you for it.He'll be here today or tomorrow.
You're with me and I have no fear.
He will kill you and me.No.Fool, go from here.Go away.
I love you and I will stay here in this house where you came to me.Do you hear?I love you.
Am I worse than death?You're not afraid of that.
I don't fear it any longer.You are filling me with yourself.That means courage.
Oh, love me.So long alone.Oh, love me.Andrews.
Yes, what?What?What is it?Have you seen something?
Nothing.I remembered.We shall need water before tonight.We must go with a pail now before it's dangerous.To the well.The pail's in the corner there.
What a time to remember. My knife, take it.
Half minute's walk, no more.The path behind the trees.Half a minute, no more.The knife, take it!Yes.
A farewell for a half minute's absence.I kiss you when I come back.Go, now.
She's dead, Andrews.She meant the knife for me.She came for me and she stumbled, fell to the floor and the knife pierced her.I'm sorry.Intensely, deeply sorry.She was fine.Finer than you or I. She knew you were here.And she sends me away.
I wanted you, Andrews, not her.Not the death of that lovely girl. You, not her.With my knife.You will kill me, Andrews.You, the coward.You brought death to what you loved.Because of her.
Of Elizabeth.No more, Carlisle.There is peace now. and a kind of happiness.Carlyon is dead.Carlyon is dead of the wounding of my knife.The knife that had tasted of Elizabeth.
Carlyon dead, and I killed him, and I am free, and the coward who whimpered in the darknesses of fear is a man. who waits for the coming of the police, who waits in a cottage where fear is dead and where love lies dead.
Suspense.Presented by Autolite, tonight's star, Mr. Herbert Marshall.
This is Harlow Wilcox speaking for Autolite, world's largest independent manufacturer of automotive electrical equipment.Autolite is proud to serve the greatest names in the industry.
They are members of the Autolite family, as well as are the 98,000 Autolite distributors and dealers in the United States, and thousands more in Canada and throughout the world.
Our family also includes the nearly 30,000 men and women in 28 great autolite plants from coast to coast and autolite plants in many foreign countries, as well as the 18,000 people who have invested a portion of their savings in autolite.
Every Autolite product is backed by constant research and precision built to the highest standards of quality and performance.So remember, from bumper to taillight, you're always right with Autolite.
Next week, we proudly present the first radio dramatization of William Shakespeare's tragic history of love and death, Othello.Our stars, Kathy Lewis, Richard Widmark, and Elliot Lewis.That's next week on Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis, with music composed by Lucian Morowick and conducted by Lud Luskin.Graham Greene's The Man Within was adapted for Suspense by Morton Fine and David Friedkin.
In tonight's story, Betty Harford was heard as Elizabeth.Featured in the cast were Ben Wright, Joseph Kearns, Raymond Lawrence, Richard Peel, and Bill Bissell.
You can buy Autolite resistor or standard type spark plugs, Autolite electrical parts, and Autolite stateful batteries at your neighborhood Autolite dealers.Switch to Autolite.
This is the CBS radio network.Autolite and its 98,000 dealers bring you Mr. Herbert Marshall.Tonight's presentation of Suspense.
Tonight, Autolite presents the story of a man who, having no fear, attempted his own death.A new dramatization of C.E.Montague's Action.Our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall.
Yes, sir, Mr. Wilcox.It's Johnny plug check time again.
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To quickly learn the location of your nearest Autolite spark plug dealer, phone Western Union by number and ask for Operator 25.And remember, from bumper to tail light, you're always right with Autolite.
And now, Autolight presents Action, starring Mr. Herbert Marshall.Hoping once again to keep you in suspense.
It happened very simply, one Monday morning.I woke up and there was a slight numbness all down my right side. The arm, fingers, a good deal along the leg.Rather less in my foot and just a little in the head.
I lay still for a moment to let it pass off, but it didn't.And I suddenly knew that it wasn't going to.I'd heard about such things.Other chaps at the club, the office.Now it had happened to me.I remember getting up.I could still stand, walk.
...dress and shave.But the numbness went on.That morning, instead of walking, I took the tram to the office.It was a pleasant autumn day.And there were a lot of young people aboard, healthy young people.
The conductor moved down the passageway, collecting fares.
Fares, please.Animal fares, please.
Animal fares, please, sir.From Wellington Avenue, please.That's Sir Thropeny, sir.Right you are.Oh, now, we don't take buttons, sir. I'm sorry.
I thought... That's quite all right, sir.Does rather look like silver.And let's see.Ah, here's a threatening bit, sir.Thank you.
His tact and sympathy were perfect.And I had a new care now.Sight, too.Was that going?Sight, touch, the whole sensory business.Losing precision.Entering on the long slope to decay.
I don't think I got much work done that morning, though in a way what I did was good for me.Kept my mind off things.I had a call of the one appointment with an old friend, Adrian Tillett, whom I hadn't seen for a month or two.
We'd arranged to meet at my club.I was a little early and sat in my usual place to wait for him.
I say, Bill!Yes?Did you hear about Chitterhouse?They brought his birdie back to England yesterday.
You've done some mountaineering yourself, haven't you?
Blast if I know what you fellows see in it.Bloody awful way to die, if you ask me.Fallen off a mountain.
I suppose there are worse ways.
Try to tell that to his wife.Well, I'm feeling a bit peckish.Will you join me for lunch?
Thanks very much.I'm waiting for someone.
Hello, Bill.I'm sorry to keep you waiting.
No, you haven't.I've just got here myself.
Oh, hold on.Steady.I say, you look seedy. Feeling all right?Yes, splendid.
Come along.We'll have a bite to eat.Good.I'm famished.
That's better.Cigar?Thanks.What about you?I don't think so.Look here, Val.Is anything wrong?I mean, well, you... You look like a dying duck in a thunderstorm.Something I can do?I'm afraid not.Serious?
I suppose it is, in a way.
If you want to talk about it... I might as well.
I woke up this morning and I felt numb.The right side.I must have had some sort of a stroke during the night.
Have you been to the doctor?
No.I don't think I shall. You know as well as I do what he'd say.
But my dear old boy, you can't let a thing like that just go.
I don't intend to be an invalid for the rest of my life, Tillett.I've seen this happen to people.Some of you end up in a bath chair, being fed by some harlot and nurse who won't even let you wipe her own nose.No thanks.
What are you going to do?
I don't know yet.The big thing seems to be, how long? How long does a thing like this take?
Men like you, you live to be a hundred.You're an active chap.There's no reason on earth why... No, that's just it.Why don't follow?I don't want to live to any age like this.Say, why not come up to my place on Friday, spend the weekend?
Change of air will do you good.No, I really don't think... Don't be an idiot. Marjorie's dying to see you.She always complains that you've given us up.Now, I'm going to expect you.The stream's awfully good this year.We'll do some fishing, right?
Right.Thanks.Thanks to that.The rest of the week passed and the sensation of numbness remained with me.Sometimes a bit more or less. At nights, I thought.I thought a great deal.On Friday, I drove down to Weybridge.
It was obvious that Tillich had told his wife about me.It didn't matter much, except I found myself annoyed at her solicitude.I suppose she couldn't help it.But it was one of the things that definitely made up my mind.I knew what I was going to do.
And I told my old friend. We were on the bank of the stream.He'd just landed a nice trout.And we sat down for a smoke.I've made up my mind what to do, Tillett.
I wondered.I had an idea you were up to something.You've been rather quiet, you know.
No, no, about the same.I had a dream just before I came down here.I was climbing. It was on a crag that became steeper and steeper as I went up.First it was vertical, then it overhung more and more... until I was actually climbing a reverse slope.
Must have been awkward.Oh, it's been done, you know.Has it?Yes, I've read about it, but I've never done it myself.
What happened in your dream?
I fell.Woke up.I thought a lot about it.It's that margin of safety, you know. One does a lot of climbing, and if you're any good at all, you don't slip in the really difficult places.But supposing you... you pair away at the margin of safety.
An experiment.What could you do before all the margin was gone?If you didn't care.I don't know.I haven't tried climbing.If one cut out the old fear of death, one could do some amazing things.
Is that what you're going to do?
Yes.Look for one of those crags?
Yes, I've never done that.I know of one I'd like to try.Zenal.The Charlie Rock.It's the ridge of the Weisshorn.Sounds impressive.There are higher mountains, but not many more interesting.
If you want to be a human fly, why not try the chalk pit down the road?Straight up and down.Not so far to fall.That wouldn't do.No.It wouldn't, would it? I'm not going to say anything, Bell.There's nothing one can say, really.
I wish you wouldn't do it, and I understand why you think you must.
When will you leave?Next week.The snows will be coming at the end of the month.Not much sense in making it too dangerous, is there?No.Not much sense in that. Ten days later, I arrived at Zinal and met an old guide I'd known for many years.
His name was Gaspar, and he knew the mountains of the Alps as very few men know them.He and his wife ran the hotel, and after dinner, it was my first night there, We talked over a cognac.
Ah, it is good to see you again, my friend.I repeat, what a surprise, and so late in the year.I remember July was my month, wasn't it?Ah, those days.We did some fine climbing, you and I, fine.And where shall we go this time?
My time is my own, and now yours.The amateurs have gone.We shall climb for sport, huh?
Perhaps so.I... I want to try the west side of the Charlie Hook.Good, good.Hope you won't be upset, Gaspar. First time I go up, I mean to do it alone.Alone?Yes.
Did you say the west side?
May I speak of something I've noticed?Of course.When I saw you today, I noticed something, a slight limp.You have been in an accident?
No, just a little stiffness.
You have done some climbing since we last were together?Not much. But the west side of the ridge, for a man out of condition, is that wise?
When do you plan to start?Tomorrow.I have never tried it myself.
I'll give you a full report.
Yes, I hope you will.The last man who tried it never came back.He fell, and we still have not found the body.
Autolite is bringing you Mr. Herbert Marshall in action.Tonight's presentation in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, suspense.
The frost is coming, so be wise.Now is the time to winterize.
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And now, Autolite brings back to our Hollywood soundstage Mr. Herbert Marshall in Elliot Lewis's production of Action, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
That night, before I went to bed, I sat for a little while, alone in the smoking room.I had nothing to do, no goodbyes, no last letter to write, no will to be made.That was done and accounted for.
I felt my right arm and leg with the fingers of my left hand, still numb.That strange, unfeeling feeling.After that, I read for a bit, then turning out the lamp. went to my room.The next morning was dazzling.
The soft green valley meadowland, sparkling.And above, against the bluest of skies, the mountains.The autumn sun was warm.And as I decided to travel as lightly as possible, I was glad for that.Leaving the hotel,
I made my way past the cow barn, the tiny post office, and on toward the path which led gently upward.I must have been walking for about five minutes when he caught up with me.
Herbert.I nearly missed you.You were gone before I knew it.Good morning, Gaspar.A beautiful morning for your climb.I thought if you did not mind that I would walk with you to the bridge.
I don't mind in the least.
My wife was worried.I'm sorry to hear that.About you.My wife is a woman who has premonitions.You know women.Yes, she needn't worry.Do you know?Yes, I told her.You are one of the best.
Still, she could not understand why you would suddenly appear and decide to climb the most difficult place on the mountain.Surely she knows mountaineers.Yes, she knows them.
And she knows they do not attempt such things without a little practice of flexing of unused muscles.
I'm in splendid form, Gaspar.
Up there, that is where you go, huh?The bulge.Yes.And when you have conquered that, you will come back?What an odd question.Exactly what I told my wife.She had a premonition that all was not well with you.
You'll have to reassure her, won't you, Gaspar? Yes, I shall, my friend.I'll say goodbye here.Yes, I... I wish... You will be all right, Abel.Remember to conserve your energy and when you reach the top, come back to us.You will come back.Yes.
I left the old guide of the wooden bridge and walked on.The place I'd picked to climb was on the west side of the Charlie Hark.It's a dip in the ridge that joins the vice horn to the Charlie Horn.The lowest point of the dip is over 12,000 feet.
The last part of the rise to the ridge is a wall of ice that undulates like a sheet of hammered copper, concave at one point, convex at another, and at two or three parts it overhangs.How much I did not know, but you could see it.
And it was the underside of that overhang I was going to climb.I would try to do it honestly, get to the ridge and prove that in this small matter, where there is no fear of death, a man can do more than he knows.
My timetable began quite on schedule.Three hours work up to the Alp from Senal.Three more up from the Alp to the foot of the ice wall.Half an hour for food, another half an hour for final preparations.Then I was at that point.The wall of ice.
And above the great overhanging bulge. It stood out above me like a gigantic blister on the face of the ice.Must have been 40 feet in diameter.
And it jutted so much that a stone dropped from its outermost point would only have touched the slope again some 100 feet lower.
To reach that outermost point, I knew I would have to climb for about 20 feet as you climb up the underside of a ladder that leans against the wall.And I would have to make the ladder, rung by rung.
Fashion each one out of ice with my axe held in one hand, while with the other hand on both feet, I'd cling to the three rungs already made.Each rung would have to be like a letterbox in a door.
Big enough for the toe of my boot to go into, but shaped so that when my hand entered, the fingers could bend down inside and grip as you grip the top of a fence.Then I was there, and the overhang was before me.The work was amazingly hard.
I'd only carved five letterboxes and used them, and an hour had gone.Five more, and daylight was failing. My left hand was chilled, almost dead with the ice it had gripped.And my right hand swollen and sore from the constant use of the axe.
My right knee began to shake uncontrollably.I almost laughed.Chattering teeth.I looked up.And some eight feet above was the goal.Beyond it I could see nothing but a tranquil sky with a rose-colored flush dying out of it.And suddenly... Very clearly.
As a complete matter of fact, I knew I couldn't get up those eight feet.My strength was going.I was about finished.And then, because the will is there until the end, I... I tried again.Tried.But the axe barely scratched the ice.
My left hand was frostbitten past feeling. Only five more feet to go.But five more than I could drive myself to.This was the finish then.What I'd set out to do.And that was the end.
I'm done.I didn't know why.I was still holding on.Holding.And it was queer.
Something was very queer. I felt little chips of ice stinging my cheeks as they slid down from above.Was an ice avalanche coming?What did it matter?Let the ice do what it wanted.My business with it was done.Then... Then there was a sound.Annoying.
A hissing sound.I saw the ice axe slide over the bulge overhead. and move out over my head to drop far below.Someone was above me.And suddenly, I don't know why, there was... there was a lightness in me.
No more dream.No more dying.I had to go up.Up very quickly.No longer the care in cutting the steps.Now they were marvels of inadequacy.I didn't think about it.Just ice cuts deep enough for a footing to raise up to cut the next.And the next.
And it must have been three minutes, perhaps less, when my chest came up to the dead center of the bulge and I... I saw what I had come for.
It was a woman, dangling at a long rope's end, her body revolving a little as it hung against the steep ice and holding the rope, perhaps 80 feet above her, the man, his ice axe driven well into the slope behind, holding well with one hand, the other gripping the rope.
Cut the rope, Teddy.Cut it. I'm done.It's killing me, Connie.You must... You can get down.The children think of... You must.It's killing me.
Well, here, sir.Hold on.Sorry.I'm coming.Hold on.
I felt like a fool.Absolute freedom from uneasiness concerning my own plight.For I still wasn't up myself. But I never liked heroics.And this sounded horribly disgustingly heroic.And I kept it up.I had to.
There in two minutes.Hold on.One minute more.Just one.Almost.Hold on.Hold on.Half a jibbit.I'm just there.
And I'd arrived over the bulge.A foothold on an upward slope.I cut a big step. Planted my own firmly in it and took her weight on my shoulder.Slowly the man above paid out the rope till she was by my side, standing safe.
You're... You're quite a happy sight.
Have you got her?All right?Yes.Right as rain.Give us a moment or two, then dig in and we'll come up.
The last daylight was gone when the three of us stood on the level roof of the ridge.I tried my best not to look at him or at her.These are things best not observed.I think she stayed in his arms for a long moment. We... Well, you understand.
Thanks.Thanks for our lives.
Oh, Lord, I just happened to be there.Luck, that's all.Yes.
Luck.I suppose we'd better push off.Getting a little chilly.
It was luck. There was a full moon, and the downward trail was something else from the way I'd come up.We none of us spoke, I don't think a single word, all the way back.And then, the village, the hotel, and she was put to bed, alive, tired.
It was only after that in the smoking room that I learned their names.His name was Golan, Theodore Golan.The woman upstairs, his wife Hillary.
And because he seemed to feel himself under some sort of obligation to me, I told him about myself, my climb, why.
And when I finished, he said, look here, I'm a doctor and I know about such things.Tell me, when you were making that last climb over the barge, did that numbness cramp you?Did you notice it?No.It had been there. But not the last ten minutes.
When you're in action.Action?Yes, I mean doing something, something you're absorbed in, lost in.
I see.That's the way it should be, you know.What you've got, the numbness, that will stay with you, but does it matter quite as much as you thought?No.I don't think so.You won't try that sort of thing again? Then it's going to be all right.
Yes, it's going to be all right.
Suspense.Presented by Autolite.Tonight's star, Mr. Herbert Marshall.
This is Harlow Wilcox again, speaking for Autolite.It's always good to welcome back our longtime friend, Herbert Marshall.Bart, we enjoyed every minute of tonight's story.
Thanks, Harlow.And may I compliment Autolite for the excellent programs to come.Next week, Van Heften in the shot. And the following week, Jeff Chandler in an exciting story, My True Love's Hair.
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So, from bumper to taillight, you're always right with Autolite.
Next week, the story of a duel, an incomplete duel, since one of its participants chose to wait and owe his adversary the shot.Our star, Mr. Van Heflin.That's next week on Suspense. C.E.Montague's action was adapted for suspense by Anthony Ellis.
Suspense is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis, with music composed by Lucian Morawick and conducted by Ludd Gluskin.Featured in the cast were Ellen Morgan, Harley Bear, Herb Butterfield, Richard Peel, and Ben Wright.
Herbert Marshall will soon be seen in Writers to the Stars, Ivan Tor's technical reproduction for United Artists.
And remember, next week, Mr. Van Heflin in The Shot.
You can buy autolight resistor or standard type spark plugs, autolight electrical parts, and autolight stay-full batteries at your neighborhood autolight dealers.Switch to autolight.Good night.
This week and every week is a good time to hire the handicapped. Surveys have proved that properly placed handicapped workers are steady and reliable.Consult your state employment service and hire the handicapped.This is the CBS Radio Network.
Now we present Herbert Marshall as the Man Called X, a regular weekly feature on NBC's five-show festival of comedy, music, mystery, and drama.
Transcribed for you by... Chesterfield, the cigarette that has for you what every smoker wants, mildness plus no unpleasant aftertaste.The cigarette that brings you Bing Crosby and Bob Hope.
By the makers of Anacin, for fast relief from pain of headache, neuritis, neuralgia. And by RCA Victor, world leader in radio, first in recorded music, first in television.
Herbert Marshall as The Man Called X. Wherever there is mystery, intrigue, romance, in all the strange and dangerous places of the world, there you will find The Man Called X. Uh-oh, here are those two guys again.
Say, Bing, you got a minute?
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Don't tell me you own that, too.
Never mind that stuff.Get to work, will you?
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Hurry up, Dad.Here comes the music.
Why, Chesterfield, Chesterfield, the one that proves its case.Yes, Chesterfields are milder, milder, plus no aftertaste.So ho, open a pack and give them a sniff, then you'll smoke them.
From Cannes to the Italian border, the Maritime Alps push almost to the sea, forming a narrow 50-mile strip of beach and crag known as the Côte d'Azur, the French Riviera.
Here are assembled the dissolute and the disenchanted, the rich, the noble, the greedy, by day lounging at the edge of the blue Mediterranean, at night cramming the casinos, pushing forward their chips with trembling fingers.
Only at dawn is the wild clamor of desperate gaiety silent.At dawn, the game is over. But in the garden of a villa just inside the borders of the tiny principality of Monaco, another game is in progress.And the stakes?
Two men stand back to back, small antique pistols in their hands.
Gentlemen, you know the rules.When I begin to count, take five paces, turn and face one another.Then you may fire at will.
An aging British novelist counts off the paces.
A paunchy mustachioed Egyptian prince turns, takes careful aim, and squeezes his fat finger against the trigger.A young American playboy lies sprawled across a flowerbed, a red stain slowly spreading on the pleated white of his evening shirt.
Here's another one, Ken.This time it's the Tribune.Want to look at it?No, thanks, Chief.I've read enough of them already.
Playboy scion of wealthy senator killed in duel.Shocking disregard for moral standards. Fight over married woman shows depravity of the international set.That's about it.The whole thing just doesn't add up, Chief.
Mark Whitney wasn't the kind to get involved in a foolish mess like that.
What's more, he had a serious job in his hands.Sure he can.Whitney was a good man.One of the best the Bureau ever had.But around those crazy people, anything could happen.Not even a cracked marksman missing a 300-pound target at 10 paces?
You think the duel was faked?Oh, well, well.Where's that last letter we got from Whitney?In the top drawer there.
I'm heading for the Riviera for a rest.Hope to fish for some channel bass.We'll try to catch a big one.
That's right, Ken.He had a crude lead.
Sure, but there aren't any channel bass along the Riviera, Chief.Except the kind who channel information behind the Iron Curtain.Wait a minute.
You think Whitney was on to something hot?Could be. It could be that he hooked into a whopper when they pulled him overboard.Oh, no, Ken.There were too many witnesses.R. Clifton Lockridge, the novelist.That actress, Rhonda Duvalli.
She's Prince Harkim's wife, remember.I know.But she seems to have been in love with Whitney.Ken, people like those don't lie to cover up a cold-blooded murder.Maybe not.Maybe it's just a crazy hunch.
But the last time I was in Monte Carlo, I found the best system for gambling was to play your hunches.Now, hold on, Ken.So long, Chief.If I win at roulette, I'll cut you in.
I'd expect to see you up front.Ah, monsieur, I have been promoted since you were last in Monte Carlo.No longer am I the bouncer.Now, I am assistant manager.Number three.And you, monsieur, what brings you to Monte Carlo?
I felt lucky and decided to play a few hunches.Besides, I came to settle the estate of a friend of mine.
Perhaps you knew him, Orio?Mark Winston III.Oui, oui, oui, I knew him, poor boy.Had I known how it would end, I would have let them finish the fight here. Well, did they have a fight at the casino?Certainly, it was magnificent.
First, the American sinks his fist in the prince's stomach, all the way to the wrist.Then the prince knocks him down and jumps on him.Then the American rolls him over like a ball.Ah, I hated to break it all.Oh, sure.
Did you happen to know how it started?Alas, no, mon ami.I arrive when things are already going good.The American sinks his fist into... Yeah, yeah, you said that. Is there anyone who might have seen the fight begin?Oui, George, the croupier.
Young Whitney, the prince, his wife, they were all playing at George's table.I can call him over if you like.Oh, don't bother.
I'll have to spend these chips somewhere.
As you say, mon ami.The fourth table on the right.
Eh, bonjour, madame et messieurs.Eh, bonjour. Merci, monsieur.Where shall I place your wage, eh?Any number you choose.I do not bet, monsieur.I know the odds too well.
I'm betting you know a great deal more than that.
A friend of mine had a quarrel here last week.I'm curious about it.Curious enough to double my stakes.
Monsieur, I watch the wheel.The faces of the players come, go, change.I do not notice. His name was Mark Whitney.Well?You lose, monsieur.Take my advice.Do not gamble anymore.You are sure to lose.Someone has to win.I've always been pretty lucky.
The percentages are against you, monsieur.No matter what the stakes, money, information, life even.Take my advice.Leave Monte Carlo before you lose more than you can afford.Remember. The percentages are against you.
Thanks for the tips.Can you move, I say?Wait, don't move.I have to talk to you.What month were you born in?I know, December.
I knew it, a Sagittarius. I could tell it the minute I looked at you.I need a Sagittarius in my orbit.The stars are just right for it.I do everything by the stars, you know.You've got to come to my party tomorrow night.
Oh, that's very kind of you.
I'm afraid I... I'm Mrs. Farrar, you know.Helen Farrar.You must have heard of me.My party is a world famous.
I do hope you're coming tomorrow.Of course, it won't be anything elaborate.Just a little get-together at my villa.A few games of chance.No one really important.Except, of course, dear Rhonda and Baby.Baby?Prince Harkin, you know.
We all call him Baby because he's so fat, of course.
I heard you mention being a friend of poor Mark.I do hope you won't hold it against Baby.It wasn't his fault.
Rhonda's been disconsolate ever since.So has Baby.So have I.
Yes, and it must have been pretty hard on your business.I... I don't know what you mean.Don't you?Or has giving parties become so profitable that you've abandoned your little sideline of blackmail?
As I recall, Mrs. Farrar, was it?When you left the United States two years ago, it was to avoid prosecution on several counts of blackmail.
I've never been so insulted in my life.Good night.Oh, Mr. Thurston.Hmm?Don't forget about the party.
How could I? After all, it was written in the stars.
Oh, hello there.Oh, you must be that Sagittarius Helen's been babbling about.Name's Thurston, isn't it?That's right.Yes, R. Clifton Lockridge.You might as well call me Bitters, like the rest of them.You see, I'm supposed to have a dry wit.
I haven't, but fortunately, in this rarefied strata of society, a small amount of nastiness passes as a great deal of humor.
I've always found your books amusing.
Thank you, so have I. Come along, Thurston.You might as well meet the rest of the menagerie.
Who says he'll make it?Eighth's the point.
Uh-oh.Imagine having a craps table at a private party.Like to try your luck, Thurston?
Not at that table, thanks.Excuse me a minute, will you?
How about a little action, for instance?
What'll you... Oh, hello, Mr. Thurston.Hello, Pegon.Here.Let me have a try at those dice. Just as I thought.Loaded for beer, eh, Mr. Thurston?Pagan.
Oh, they're not mine, Mr. Thurston.How could you think such a thing?They belong to my cousin Pierre.He works at Monte Carlo.Oh, sure.Besides, who wants to get rich?I just came to the riviera because you were here.
All right, Pagan.Who told you this time?The chief secretary again?
Who else?Mr. Thurston, stop staring.It isn't polite.Especially when I don't know what you're looking at.
Over there, at the back of our table.
That's Ronda Duvalli, the Italian actress.
Oh, she's the one Mark Whitney... Well, come on, Mr. Thurston, what are we standing here for?
Easy, Pagan, that's her husband.
The fat character in the uniform?Oh, don't be silly.What could she see in him?
Prince Hakim Raid is one of the richest men in the world.
Well, I don't see what... Oh, a marriage of connivance, eh?
Come away from the table, Ronda.You've lost enough.
I lose what I like.A million francs, two millions.You can afford it.If it doesn't please you, go home.I'm staying.Oh, how can she talk that way to all that money?
Blunder!We will leave together.
Take your hands off me!I'm going out for some fresh air.Hey, Mr. Rich.Where are you going?
Out on the terrace.See you later, Peter. Here, here.You'd better try my handkerchief.
Oh, God.I'm sorry.But it's all been so frightful, like a nightmare of hatred and jealous... and murder.
What else can you call it?
Rhonda, who told Harkin about your interest in Mark?
Must have been Helen.Helen Farrar.She knows too much and tells everything. Unless you pay for her silence.And then you have to pay more and more, all the money I... Huh?
Won't you introduce me to your friend, Rhonda?
Of course, darling.This is the Mr. Thurston Helen told us so much about.My husband, Prince Achim.Prince Achim?
You will forgive us, Mr. Thurston.My wife is overwrought.It's time she went home.Isn't that right, Rhonda?
Yes. I'm tired.Very tired.Good night, Mr. Thurston.We'll meet again.Soon.
I'm short of it.Good night.
Quite an actress, isn't she?
Oh, hello, Lockridge. Didn't see you there in the shadows.
Well, I suppose I should have spoken up when you and Rhonda came out, but I enjoy eavesdropping.It's a novelist's prerogative, you know.You'll have to forgive Baby, by the way.These Egyptians take their women so dashed seriously.Forget about that.
Yes, Mark, funny thing about that business.There are always men hovering around Rhonda.Baby's challenged three or four of them, but he's always backed out, apologized.
I decided he was something of a coward, and then he finally goes through with a duel against a known crack shot, who by some strange coincidence misses his aim completely.
Oh, yes, now that you mention it.Oh, yes.
Hey, Mr. Thurston, wait for me.I do want to walk home.
What a party, Mr. X. I haven't had so much champagne since my sister Olga got... Hey, Mr. Thurston, looks like you got a ticket.Hmm?Oh, see, stuck under the windshield wiper.Here, I'll get it.If you need it fixed, my cousin has some good connections.
Hey, this is some kind of a note.
Let me see it. If you are truly a friend of Mount Witness, come to Eden Rock by 1.30 this morning.Ah, block printing, a little signature.
Eden Rock?Garden of Eden!Let's go!
Hang on to your hat.We haven't got much time.
Take it easy, Mr. Rex.If I gotta go to the Garden of Eden, I don't wanna get there in one place. Well, there isn't anybody here, Mr. X. Guess she must have gotten cold feet.
Shoot that flashlight down there onto the rocks.
Sure.Wait.Mr. X?Yeah.Oh, poor Prince Hakeem.Hold that door and he has to go and fall off a cliff.
Pagan, I've got a hunch he was pushed.
We will continue with The Man Called X in just a moment.If you would like to know a quick, easy way to ease the pain of a headache, neuritis, or neuralgia, then by all means try Anacin.
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Anison comes in handy boxes of 12 and 30 tablets and economical family-sized bottles of 50 and 100.Now, Act II of The Man Called X, starring Herbert Marshall with Leon Belasco as Pagan Zellschmidt.
Why do we have to climb all the way down here, Mr. X? He's dead anyway, isn't he?Well then?
I'd just like to see if... Shoot.Yes, he's already been searched.Nothing on him.
Well, what are we waiting for?It's cold and I'm getting wet.Wait a minute.Look at his head, Pete.Bold as a billiard cue.Yeah.But Mr. X, in the casino he had black hair.Maybe he got so scared he just all fell out.
Or maybe he wore a toupee. Give me that flashlight.Let's see.Here it is.Up on this rock.
How do you like that, Mr. X?Oh, it just shows you can trust nothing you see.Why, I bet you that... What are you doing?Where did you get that piece of paper?
Fastened inside the toupee. Red 38, red 21.If you lose, cut stakes in half.Red 7, black 4.
It's a system for playing roulette, Mr. X. Hey, maybe that's how the Prince Hakeem got so rich.
Not with this system.Come on, Pagan.Let's get back to the casino and lose some money.Sure.Lose?But Mr. X... Come on. Ah.Red 36, red 21.
Hey, what's that sign up ahead?
Just like back home, eh?Now, where were you?Oh, yes.Red 36.Mr. Hicks, look out!Hey, what kind of a detour is this anyway, bringing us right to the edge of the cliff?
A very special detour, Pagan, meant just for us.For us?Yeah.Let's get back on the highway.
Room for another player at this table?Hello, Thurston.Planning to lose a little money and supplement the marshal plan?
Looks like Mrs. Farrar's party has moved to the casino, Lockridge.
My party was a bore, darling.I should have known.I've told myself a hundred times, never entertain unless Saturn is in conjunction with Mars.And look where Saturn is tonight.
Where was he?I never saw a shot like that.
There seems to be somebody missing.
You mean my husband, Mr. Thurston?
Yes, Rhonda.I thought you went home with him.
Maybe he was in one of his moods.We quarreled again, he let me off here.
I'll play red 36.Let's try 21 red.21 red. With noir, eight black.
Mr. Thurston, that's money you're losing.
Maybe four is my lucky number.Let's find out.
I can't stand to watch anymore, Mr. Thurston.All this money going out and nothing coming back.
Cans, noir, fifteen, black.You lose again, monsieur.
Well, I guess that does it.Let's see.Five hundred thousand francs.
Five hundred thousand?Even if francs, it's money.
I'm afraid I'll have to give you a check.Oh, I'm very sorry, monsieur.All of you will accept it.Well, I do not think so, but I shall get it.
Don't look so sad, Pagan.We'll drive out to Eden Rock and watch the sun come up.It's supposed to be quite a sight.Huh?Perhaps you'd like to come along, Mrs. Farrar, Rhonda?
Yes, I lost quite a bit tonight, and I'd appreciate it if you'd take my check.Oh, but monsieur, it is against the rules, even for you.
That's too bad.It's all made out.Here.But I don't... Bien.Bien.I will make an exception.Thanks.
Good night, everybody.I hope you enjoyed the view from Eden Rock.
What are we doing out here, Mr. X?It's dark as a coal bin, and the prince's body is still down at the bottom of the cliff.
And you didn't tell nobody he was even dead.
Whoever murdered him already knew it.
Well, sure, but this is new.You lost money, too.
It was a good investment.
That wasn't a roulette system on that slip of paper.It was a code.
It said to cut your bet in half if you lose.No gambler ever does that.You'd never get even.But if you were sure you were going to lose, I... At least one of the other players knows that same code.The one who murdered Hakim.
I made it plain we were coming here, so we ought to have a visitor before they... Well... Good evening.
Mr. X. Am I prompt enough for you?
Then you're not surprised?
No.Hacking's body was successfully... Well, it was searched very carefully.But whoever killed him knew he was bald.Otherwise, they'd have been puzzled and searched for the hairpiece.
Poor baby.So vain about his hair.As if that wig covered his ugliness.And what else have you managed to deduce, Mr. X?
Not enough, I'm afraid. I thought maybe you would help me.The code was used for passing information to a Russian agent, wasn't it?
To the coupier.One thing I don't understand.Why are you and the prince would be mixed up in a thing like this?Money, Rhonda?
For me, yes.For him, power.His grandfather was one of the strongest men in Egypt.Baby hoped to recoup his strength.The communists made him promises.
I told you.I can believe in giving a woman nothing.I had to beg for every penny. But the communists pay well, much better than your rich Americans.Unfortunately, Baby was disturbed.I am afraid he did have a conscience.He wanted to talk to you.
Mrs. Farrar had told us who you were.I could not permit him to see you.
So you killed him.What was Baby disturbed about?
Mark Whitney's death, of course.He had finally managed to figure out it was murder.Baby was such a coward.It took me days to get his challenge, Mark.
Mark accepted the challenge.Perhaps if he had known his revolver was loaded with a blank... Whitney was killed because he found out about this code of yours.You are right again.So?
Oh, put that gun away.Killing us wouldn't look like an accident.
I have no intention of firing, unless you force me.Now, if you will just back up to the edge of the cliff.
Mr. X, I don't think she's kidding.Sorry, Rhonda, I'm not moving.
Then I must kill you. I have no choice.
You can turn yourself over to the police.They're almost here, you know.
The check I gave Olio tonight was a message to bring them.He's quite good about following instructions.Learned it in the foreign legion.
I... I do not believe you.
It is not possible.I... I will get away.Back to Italy.The party will help me there.It is only a few kilometers to the border.I will be... Rhonda!
Oh, Mr. X. Mr. Thurston, the police are here.I have followed your orders.
Not much they can do now, Olio.Except pick up your croupier and hold him for espionage.
Yeah, but the Princess Rhonda?
On the rocks.Ah, it was an accident?
No, I wouldn't say it was an accident, Olio.I'd say she died of natural causes. Always happens to people who are infected with greed and the desire for power.Oh, well.Come on, Peter.
Our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall, will return in just a moment.Here's a word from RCA Victor. It's good company anywhere.Yes, anywhere, anytime there's fun at your fingertips with an RCA Victor portable radio.
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Take your pick of the beautifully styled models at your RCA Victor dealers everywhere. Now, here again is our star, Mr. Herbert Marshall.
Thanks for being with us.Those you heard in tonight's cast were Jane Morgan, Gene Tatum, Will Wright, Tony Barrett, Gerald Moore, Eric Snowden, and Ted Von Eltz.Next week, Ken gets involved in an operation that literally knocks him off his feet.
And between a famous doctor, a pretty nurse, and Leon Belasco as Pagan Zellschmidt, Well, join us, won't you, when next I return as the man called X. Good night.
The Man Called X is a regular weekly feature on NBC's five-show festival of comedy, music, mystery and drama.Transcribed for you by the makers of Annison, for fast relief from pain of headache, neuritis, neuralgia.
And by RCA Victor, world leader in radio, first in recorded music, first in television. The Man Called X, starring Herbert Marshall, is a J. Richard Kennedy production with music composed and conducted by Felix Mills.
Tonight's story was written by Robert Libet and Frank Burt.All characters and incidents on this program are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual characters or incidents is purely coincidental.
Be sure to hear the big show with Tallulah Bankhead and a great parade of stars, the Sunday night feature of NBC's All-Star Festival.
And until next week, same time and station, this is Jack Latham saying goodnight for The Man Called X. William Bendix stars in The Life of Riley.
We just heard Herbert Marshall in The Man Within, Action, and The Man Called X. That will do it for today's show.Thanks so much for joining me.I know this episode is coming your way a little bit late,
But to make up for it, I've got another show coming your way in just a few days.It's a bonus show featuring my favorite suspense episodes starring the great James Mason.
And in the meantime, you can check out Down These Mean Streets, my old-time radio detective podcast.New episodes of that show are out every Sunday.If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger.
You can rate and review the show in Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen.
and if you'd like to lend support to the show you can visit buymeacoffee.com slash mean sts otr now good night until next time when i'll share my favorite episodes of james mason starring in tales well calculated to keep you in suspense
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