Now, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California presents...
Suspense!
Tonight, Roma Wines bring you Mr. Lloyd Nolan, as star of 19 Deacon Street, a suspense play
produced, edited and directed for Roma Wines by William Spear.
Suspense!
Radio's outstanding theater of thrills is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines.
That's R-O-M-A Roma Wines.
Those excellent California wines that can add so much pleasantness to the way you live, to
your happiness and entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals.
Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Mr. Lloyd
Nolan in a remarkable tale of...
Suspense!
Ah, what a business, what a business.
Do you know how it is when you're keeping something to yourself, something that scares
you, something that nobody else will believe?
Well, if I tell you how it really happened, you'll say I'm nuts.
But if I don't talk, then for sure I'll go nuts.
Listen.
Did you ever have a dame get under your skin till you were ready to hang yourself with
your own belt just to be rid of her?
Yeah.
She did that to me.
That blonde.
That beautiful blonde.
And the funny thing is, we never even met.
Ties is my business wholesale.
I came to Chicago with a red hot line and an exclusive to the Middle West, all sewed
up.
All I had to do was find a place to do business and a place to live.
You think that's easy, huh?
You should see Chicago these days.
Well, some ham actor on the train tipped me off to a theatrical rooming house at 19 Deacon
Street.
I only wished he'd broken his neck before he saw me.
Anyhow, I go to this place and from the outside it looks all right.
I wait a minute or two and finally an old dame comes out looking like a tired old duchess.
Good afternoon.
Uh, yeah.
I'm, uh, I'm looking-
No vacancy.
Oh?
Well, an actor on a train said that maybe it'd put me up.
Are you an actor?
Uh, yeah, sort of.
Well, I do hate to turn you away if you're in the theater.
There was a time when we catered exclusively to theatrical people.
Oh, any kind of a room would be okay.
Well, come in, young man.
We'll see what we can do.
We have a room that we don't rent.
It's not really fixed up for renting, but I might-
Now, look, lady, I'm not particular.
I'm away all day.
All I want are places to sleep, see?
Come upstairs.
I just know I shouldn't have promised myself.
Now, young man, I'm going to show this to you on one condition.
What's that?
This room belongs to someone very dear to me.
She's away.
I've never rented it because, well, I expect her back.
Oh, yeah?
I want you to promise that no matter what, you will not move anything or ask any questions
about her.
That's a funny thing to ask.
Some people wouldn't understand.
Promise?
Okay, it's a deal.
I'll turn on the light.
Well, do you like it?
Well, I don't know.
It's kind of feminine, isn't it?
Yes.
Yellow fluffy curtains and costume dolls, cold cream, greased paint, dressing gown.
Hmm, nice perfume.
And hey, Lady Stockings, ain't this a little unusual?
We haven't changed it at all.
You don't realize this, young man, but you're standing in a shrine.
Am I?
Oh, what?
We haven't touched her room because some day she'll be back and she'll find everything
just as she left it.
Is this her picture on the mantel here?
Yes.
Isn't she beautiful?
Wow, you can say that again.
I never even saw such a beautiful dame.
And notice the long golden hair.
Oh, if you could really see it, long and shimmering like thin strands of purest gold.
And she'll be back.
Well, when do you expect her?
I don't know.
What didn't she say?
No, she didn't say a word.
One day she was here and the next day she was gone without a word.
How long ago?
In a few days it'll be ten years.
Well, I took the room.
If I knew then what trouble it would bring me, I'd have slept in the park instead.
When the landlady left, I went over to the mantel and I looked at the blonde's picture.
Yeah, she was really one beautiful dame.
And there was something else about her, some little thing I couldn't pin down.
Well, I took the French doll off the pillow and flopped down.
But from where I lay I could look right at the picture.
I looked and I felt the back of my neck crawl.
Finally I couldn't stand it any longer.
I jumped up and I turned the picture to the wall.
And then I dozed off.
And there she was, crying.
Just her face.
Soft gray eyes and her golden hair.
Strands of pure gold like the old dame said.
Yeah.
Oh, what was she crying about?
What was wrong?
I didn't get it.
Laverne.
Laverne.
What's the matter, Laverne?
Mr. Swartz.
Laverne.
Mr. Swartz.
What are you crying about?
Mr. Swartz, are you all right?
Yeah, just a minute.
I'm all right.
It's just a bad dream, I guess.
But I heard you calling out.
You were calling Laverne.
Who?
Laverne.
That's who you were calling, wasn't it?
I don't know.
Laverne.
Yeah, I guess I was.
How did you know, Mr. Swartz?
How did you know her name was Laverne?
Well, I don't know.
I don't know how I knew.
I knew her name.
I knew the name of the blonde, but I never met her.
I pressed at the landlady for details, but the old dame wouldn't talk.
So I locked the door.
I went to work to find out for myself.
I emptied all the dresser drawers out on the bed.
Plenty of nice clothes, plenty of shoes and dresses and intimate things, you know, but not one scrap of paper to tell you anything about the girl herself.
Not a letter, not a card, not an envelope, nothing.
Then I got my first break.
In a little jacket, I found the key. It had a tag on it and the figure nine was written on the tag.
There was nothing locked in the room, nothing the key should fit.
But maybe someplace I'd find the lock it was made for.
And later, high in the closet door, I found a telephone number, scrawled with eyebrow pencil.
Briar Gate 1-2-7-3.
I went downstairs to the hall phone.
No one was around.
I felt like a joint dialing a number that had been written more than 10 years ago, but I put the nickel in.
I started dialing.
B-R-I-1-2-7-3.
A busy signal.
That meant the number was still alive.
And maybe, just maybe, somebody on the other end could tell me about Laverne.
And hour later, I was still dialing that number and still getting a busy signal.
So I finally give up and went to my room.
What business was it of mine if some stale babe wanted to disappear?
I had my own headaches.
I had 400 dozen fancy neckties to get rid of.
Laverne was...
She was still in that room.
I felt it in my bones.
And I couldn't sleep.
In the morning, I started out to look for a place to set up shop.
Oh, I was plenty groggy, but I told myself that if I didn't sell those neckties,
I'd find myself back in the bargain basement of Rosenblatt's department store,
which was a sobering thought.
So I started walking down to Madison Street.
It's a warm day and I'm walking fast and suddenly I look up and I'm on State Street.
Now, I know that town pretty well.
I don't have to go anywhere near State Street to get to Madison, but here I am.
I'm on State Street and I'm standing in front of an old building.
All around me I see hawks, shops, flap houses, tattoo joints, you know, the kind of neighborhood.
And right in front of me, this old building, all boarded up.
Suddenly I get the brainwave that this is the kind of joint I need for my business.
Looked like it hadn't been used for 50 years, so the rent couldn't be too high,
and it's big and central.
So I just ankle around to the alley, try the back door.
Figure there must be a caretaker or somebody around, so I give a yell.
Hey! Anybody in there?
No dice.
This is kind of funny because I can see a light shining through the crack in the boards.
So I start pounding on the door.
Hey, open up! Open up, will you?
What do you think you're doing?
Oh, hello, officer. Well, I just thought that there'd be a janitor around.
Does it look like there'd be anybody around with the doors all padlocked like this?
Yeah, but look, there's a light burning inside.
It's just a work light on the stage. It burns all the time.
What do you want, mister?
I want to rent the joint. Where can I find the owner?
Rent it, huh? You'd better get in touch with Jasper Florens.
Oh, the big stage producer.
That's right. He used to run this little burleque house before he was in the chips. Got his start here.
You can probably get him on the phone at his office.
Florens Productions.
Oh, hello. I'd like to speak to Mr. Florens, please.
Oh, who's calling, please?
My name's Swartz.
What did you wish to talk to Mr. Florens about, please? He's very busy.
Yeah, yeah. Now, look, I ain't no ham actor looking for a job.
Tell him I want to rent some space from him.
Rent space?
Yeah, the old Florens theater on State Street.
Oh.
Well, hello.
I'm sorry, but the Florens theater is not for rent.
Not for rent. But why?
Well, okay, okay. Have it your way.
I burned up the nerve of that guy letting his theater sit there empty while I needed it so bad.
Well, I wandered back to the house a little later and...
As soon as I got what inside of it, I got that queer feeling again.
It was just like that blonde was standing there waiting for me.
Well, I walked in and went to my room.
I got out of detective mystery and tried to pass the time away, but it didn't work.
I couldn't think of a thing.
Except for a burn.
Then I lay back on the bed and I must have been dead tired.
Because in nothing flat, I was out.
And there she was again.
That beautiful girl, Sabin.
This time I was sure she was trying to say something to me.
Trying to get a message of some kind to me, but...
I just couldn't understand.
What was she trying to say?
Was she asking me to find her?
Find me.
Between the acts of suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.
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More than thanks for the good harvest reaped from the soil of our great land.
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Serve cool.
Remember, because of uniformly fine quality at low cost, more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine.
R-O-M-A, Roma wines.
And now, Roma wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage, Lloyd Nolan,
as Maury Swartz, Thai salesman and raconteur in 19 Deacon Street,
a play well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Why me? Why me? Why me?
After that, I was afraid to sleep, so I grabbed my hat and ran out of the house.
I stopped at a joint down the street and ordered some coffee.
And while I was sitting there, I all of a sudden remembered what my uncle, my mother's brother, used to say.
He said, if you want to forget something that's bothering you, just concentrate on something else, anything else.
Well, but what could I concentrate on? Then I thought.
And then I thought of the theater, the Florence Theater.
The guys had tried to run it for years and failed, but I needed it.
And if I used my brain for that one thing, if I did nothing but plan ways of breaking Florence down,
I might be able to level myself out and at the same time swing the deal.
Later that morning, I got in touch with an agent I knew, and he gave me Florence's address.
I took a cab out there. It was on Lake Shore Drive and very hoi polloi.
Florence was sitting in his study. He looked just like his pictures, tall, gray looking with a nice sort of smile.
But his necktie was lousy. Well, we had quite an argument.
Did I understand that you're interested in the Florence Theater?
Yeah, that's right. I tried to see you at your office, but I couldn't get past your secretary.
That's why I thought I'd take a chance and see you in here.
I see. You're rather persistent, aren't you, Mr. Swartz?
Well, you see, it means a lot to me, Mr. Florence. I understand it's been closed for years, but...
I believe my secretary told you I didn't want to rent the theater, didn't you?
Well, sure he did, but Mr. Florence, did you ever have a hunch?
A hunch? Why, yes, of course.
Well, do you generally play your hunches?
Well, sometime.
Well, I got a hunch about your theater.
I see. Well, I'd like very much to help you, but I'm afraid it's out of the question.
But why?
Well, it's where I produced my first shows. Has memories for me.
Some pleasant, some not so pleasant. Reopening that theater would be like reopening a part of my past that I'd rather keep closed.
Oh, but ain't that kind of silly, Mr. Florence? I wouldn't put on shows there. All I want is...
I admire your persistence, Mr. Swartz, but the answer will always be no.
Okay. You win for now. But I ain't giving up. Because when I want something real bad, I get it.
And I want your theater bad for personal reasons.
Now, here's my card. I've written my phone number on it in case you change your mind.
And you'll change your mind, Mr. Florence.
You think so?
Yeah, I think so. As you say, I'm persistent.
Hello? Oh, Mr. Bogart, yes.
This isn't Mr. Bogart. I was just kidding. This is Swartz again.
Huh? Oh, you.
Yeah, you're still... you're sure you don't want to rent that theater?
Still very sure, Mr. Swartz.
Look, Swartz, I want you to stop hounding me.
It's not doing anybody any good standing empty.
That's for me to decide. I want you to leave me alone, do you hear? I want you to leave me alone!
Yeah, and that's how it went. And it worked at first. For a while I... I forgot about Laverne.
And I got Florence plenty nervous. But every time I went back to 19 Deacon Street,
I wondered who was more nervous, him or me.
And all the time I'm dogging Florence, I'm still sneaking in calls to that phone number I found in the closet,
Briar Gate, 1-2-7-3. And I'm still getting busy signals.
And then one night as I'm listening to the busy signal, I get mad.
Hey, operator! Operator!
This is the operator, sir.
So what's been going on around here? For three days and nights I've been dialing this number,
and all I've got is a busy signal.
I'll connect you with my supervisor.
What good's that going to do? Now, look, is there any way to get that phone number?
Now, look, is there any way of finding out who this number belongs to?
Surely, sir. Unless it's an unlisted number, you can get that information by dialing 2-0-8-0.
You mean I can find out who's at the other end of this phone by dialing that number?
Boy, there's nothing like that back home.
Yes, sir. Chicago has that service.
And I spend three days listening to a busy signal.
Say, lady, where can I dial for brains?
So I dialed 2-0-8-0, and that's how I found the place.
It's a little run-down spaghetti joint named Joe's.
Over in the corner I see the telephone that's been giving me the busy signal, and no wonder.
It's a public phone booth.
Right now one guy is in it and two others are waiting for it.
I go over and climb on a stool.
What can I get you?
Uh, you, Joe?
Yeah, what can I get you?
How long you been in this place, Joe?
Uh, 14 or 15 years. Why?
Well, you've seen a lot of people come and go, huh?
Shoes, plenty. What can I get for you?
Look, you got a good memory for faces?
Look, you see, I'm busy, mister. I got no time for games.
You want something or you don't want something?
Here, Joe, take a look at this picture.
Shoes.
Yeah.
So what?
You recognize her?
Yeah, she's been in here a long, long time ago.
What's her name, Joe?
I can't remember her name. She was a showgirl, I think.
Uh, Claire or something.
Wasn't it Laverne, Joe?
Yeah, that's right.
Yeah?
Laverne Claire.
She's always come in here with a big shot.
With a big shot?
Well, he wasn't so big a shot then, but he was going to places.
And then she jilted him and ran off with some other guy.
I remember very good, because he used to come in here after that
and sit here alone all the time.
It break him up pretty bad.
Hey, and who was this big shot? You remember that, Joe?
Oh, sure, sure.
The big producer, Jasper Florence.
Now, what can I get you, huh?
MUSIC
Jasper Florence, the poor guy.
Here I've been hounding him for that theater
and he's holding out because it'll break his heart to let it go.
He won't rent because it's a chunk of his life, a bad chunk.
And it's in that theater.
Well, that's what a dame can do to you.
But what a mean dame she must be.
But anyway, I begin to feel better.
Now, first thing tomorrow, I go out,
find another place to do business, and I'd start selling ties.
But when I get home, I was in for another surprise.
On my door there was a note from the landlady.
Jasper Florence called.
He changed his mind about the theater
and will meet you there at 8 o'clock.
Well, figure that one out.
I looked at my watch and it was 5 after 8 already.
I get to the theater about 20 pairs.
Nobody's there.
So I wait around in front for a few minutes
and then I look down at the front door.
The padlock I saw on it the other day was gone.
I give the door a little push and it swings open.
Well, it's just like any other theater lobby.
White tile, brass rails, cobwebs all over everything, of course.
I go on into the house and there in the center of the stage
is that one big work leg the cop told me
they've been keep burning all these years.
What a queer duck that Florence must be
to keep electricity going for 10 years.
And in the center of the stage is a big organ
and the light behind it sends screwy shadows up against the wall.
I walk down the long aisle and up the stairs onto the stage.
As I walk across it, I could hear my footsteps echo.
I never could resist listening to an echo, so I yelled, hello!
Acting like a kid whistling in the dark.
Hey, look, Maury, you're all alone here.
There's nothing to be afraid of.
Well, then I see that organ and I walk over to it,
run my hand across the keys.
I quit that in a hurry.
Then as I wipe the dust off my fingers, I look up into the flies.
I look and I see sandbags hanging.
Whoa, they must weigh 150 pounds.
I was just looking up at the catwalk, which I...
Then I see somebody move.
I was sure of it.
Just off stage, a guy moved in the darkness.
Don't ask me why, but I started to walk toward him very quietly.
Yeah, he was there. I could see him now.
Hey, come out of there, you!
He didn't move.
So I walked over closer and...
It was... it was a dressing room.
And the guy I saw reflected was Maury Swartz.
That's right, me.
Maury Swartz reflected in a dressing table mirror.
Well, just then I saw a door to another dressing room across the hall.
That door was closed, but something about it made me stare.
It was the number on the door.
Number nine.
I remember the key I picked up in Laverne's room.
Then a flash, I had it out of my pocket and was trying it on the door.
Number nine, the tag said, and it worked.
My knees were shaking and sweat was rolling down my face,
but I opened the door as wide as I could.
I stepped in.
And then I stepped on something.
It was dark, I couldn't figure out what it was.
So I let her match.
There.
On the floor were the white bones of a skeleton.
And beside them, long golden strands of hair.
And then I... I knew.
My heart was beating a mile a minute as I stowed back to the stage.
I got there and I started for the footlights.
Suddenly I looked up, the master curtain was crashing down on me.
I jumped back.
Got away just in time, didn't you, Swartz?
Too bad.
Florence, where are you?
You can't see me, Swartz, but I can see you.
I'm up here in the flag gallery in the shadows.
But you're well lighted by that work light.
You make a very good target down there.
I would do that, Swartz.
If you make one move to put out the light or get away,
I'll cut these conduits and you'll be smashed to nothing.
You... you killed Laverne, didn't you, Florence?
You killed her and then you closed your theater
and locked it up so she'd never be found.
No wonder you wouldn't rent.
And what are you going to do about it, Mr. Swartz?
You don't have much of a chance, do you?
Now there's no way off the stage, is there?
Well, I... I can get out the wings, Florence.
It's a long walk, my friend.
And before you make it, I'll drop these sandbags on you.
Oh, yeah.
Well, maybe in a minute or two I'll make a dash.
Maybe I'll be faster than you will. Then what, Florence?
Then you'll fry for killing that girl.
She had it coming.
And so have you, my friend, for being a meddler.
And you're going to get it. I'm cutting the weights loose now.
No, no. Don't do that, please, will you?
I...
Oh, that's a long way to fall
and an awful way to die.
Even for you, Florence.
Well, there's the story.
And if you don't believe it, there's nothing I can do.
Florence was leaning over, cutting those ropes
and the guardrail and that old theater give away.
And it was curtains for him.
Well, I hope I entertained you.
And, oh, by the way, if you happen to need any ties,
I got a nice new line in.
I hope you won't think it's sacrilegious,
but these ties, and they come in all colors,
they got a girl's picture on them.
That's a cute idea, huh?
I call it the Laverne tie.
So don't forget, look me up.
I got a little stand in Rosenblatt's department store.
You'll miss it, right in the bargain basement.
Roma Wines have brought you Lloyd Nolan,
a star of 19 Deacon Street.
Tonight's study in...
Suspense.
This is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines,
the sponsor of Suspense.
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R-O-M-A. Roma wines.
Lloyd Nolan appeared through the courtesy of 20th Century Fox Film Corporation
and can now be seen in their production, The House on 92nd Street.
Next Thursday, Roma wines bring you Miss Nancy Kelly in...
Suspense! Radio's outstanding theatre thrill.
Presented by Roma wines.
R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.