Mystery House.
Mystery House. That strange publishing firm owned by Dan and Barbara Glenn.
Where every new novel is acted out by the Mystery House staff before it is accepted for publication.
Mystery House.
A new lease on death. You know, I like that title, Barbie.
You'll like the story we're doing tonight too, Dan.
Once in a while, some author sends in the manuscript of a book that's really different.
And this is one.
Well, fine. You know, that's one trouble with stories.
So many writers turn out yarns that are just like all the rest of the stories they've ever written.
Well, that's one thing you can't say about me, Mr. Glenn.
Oh? Well, I didn't know you wrote stories, Guy.
I don't write stories. What I write is the absolute truth.
And here's a material you'll think is different too.
The Mystery House.
Well, let's get on with tonight's story, huh? Places, everybody.
Is that the scene, Guy?
A new lease on death.
The scene is a street in a rather undesirable part of town.
A well-dressed couple is stopped by a seedy-looking character who is obviously after a handout.
Pardon me, bud. I suppose you could stick a guy to a sandwich and a cup of coffee.
You sure it's for a sandwich?
Oh, Larry, don't give the poor bum a lecture. Give him a quarter.
Larry.
Hmm? What?
I believe that. Larry. Oh, stop him. He's running away. Get him. Bring him back quick.
Hey. Hey, you. Come back here.
Hold on. Let go of me. Let go. I tell you, you haven't got any right to stop me.
I can go where I please without...
Wait, Guy. Miriam knew what you were talking about.
All right. I made a mistake. If I'd seen you, I wouldn't have stopped you. Now go on.
No, no. Ken Starr. I wouldn't have known you.
Well, there's no reason why you should know me, is there, Larry?
Everybody was pretty happy to forget me, I guess.
Ken Starr. What in the world happened to you? Well, you look like a ghost.
Yeah? Well, maybe I am. You wouldn't look so good yourself, Miriam. You've been through what I've taken.
Oh, you poor thing.
I'm not asking for sympathy, Miriam. I can just see you at the country club.
Girls, you'd never guess who I saw panhandling on the street last night. Ken Starr. He looked like a bum.
You have no right to talk that way.
After all, you didn't give anybody a chance to help you, Ken.
You mean I didn't get on my knees and beg my friends for help?
Ken, it's not too late yet. You can't throw your whole life away.
I've already thrown my life away, Miriam. Once you die, you never get a chance to come back to life.
You're being a little melodramatic, aren't you, Ken?
No, I'm quite serious, Larry. I died during my murder trial when they brought out the story of Elsa Gaynor and me.
But you weren't convicted. They set you free.
I was dead as far as Elsa Gaynor was concerned. Reasons were good enough. I was dead in business.
People don't trust their financial affairs to a man who's been tried for murder.
But I wish we'd seen you before, Ken. It's so tragic to think of you and how successful you were.
And how singularly unsuccessful I am now. It isn't so tragic, Miriam.
Actually, I don't feel so badly about it. I don't feel at all. Not until somebody opens the wound again.
Ken, I have a little proposition to make you.
No. Thanks, Miriam, but I'm not considering charity.
This isn't charity. I have a proposition to bring you back to life.
Really, Miriam?
You run along, Mary. I want to talk to Ken privately.
But, of course, you have a perfect right to do whatever you like, Miriam, but do you think that...
Oh, I'm quite harmless, Larry.
I didn't mean that.
I'm sorry. You know, your pride gets a little sharp when you've nothing to be proud of.
Please, Larry, tell the rest of the crowd I couldn't make it, and don't tell them where I am.
Don't say anything about who we saw. Promise?
I don't think this is wise at all, Miriam.
I didn't ask you what you thought. Well, promise?
All right. Good night, Ken.
...
Gosh, Miriam, I've been needing so furiously. I didn't even look at your apartment.
You're very neat.
Well, it's wonderful what a couple of bestseller books and a feature writer's job will do for a gal.
Now, that's the best food I've had in months. It was nice of you.
Now I'll help you going along.
Just a minute. I said I had a proposition to make you.
I'm not taking money from anybody. That's what you want.
Oh, don't be a fool. When I saw you on the street, I got a simply tremendous idea for a book.
The title's Comeback. It's the story of a man who deteriorates to nothing and then is given every tool to make a comeback.
Very interesting.
It's going to be a personal case history with nothing held back. Of course, we won't use your name,
but it's going to be a story of you.
A guinea pig for the laboratory? No thanks.
Oh, now don't be stealthy. You earn everything you get, and what you'll get will be a chance to come back to life.
Don't you think I got hurt enough before I died, Miriam, without sticking pins into me again?
The apartment across the hall is vacant. I'll rent it tomorrow.
We'll say you've been in South America, and you've got a new fortune down there.
You've just come back, and are ready to start your business again.
No, I couldn't go through with it. You don't have enough money to...
I have enough money to give you a good front. That's all you'll need.
You've always had more brains than any man in our crowd.
With the right front, you'll soon be making a great deal, just like you did before. If...
If... If I'm up to it.
Well, how about it?
Why, well, give me a little time.
No, you'll get more and more scared. You're deciding right now.
All right. All right. I'll give it a try.
Miriam, you've got to stop this foolishness. You're writing for a terrible fall.
If I get cracked up, Larry, it'll be my funeral.
Everybody else is fooled. They think Ken Starr is wonderful. The man who came back, they're calling him.
Well, I know he's the man who was brought back.
He's getting away with it beautifully.
But it can't last, Miriam. He doesn't have the stuff.
He didn't have it when he went to trial for murder, and he's lost a lot since. An awful lot.
He's a wonderful person, Larry. Life gave him some mighty swift kicks in the pants.
But he's the same sweet guy always was underneath.
He's just as clever and charming. Coming to the surface.
And you've no idea what a thrill it is to me to see him grow.
Wait till he sees Elsa and her new husband. Watch him fall apart.
This is a big town, Larry. With a little handling, he doesn't need to see either Elsa or Harlan McGrath.
You're in love with Ken Starr, aren't you? Oh, you don't need to answer me.
You're just as simple-minded about him as you were when he was carrying a torch for Elsa.
Well, what if I am?
You're not going to see him throw your life away, Miriam. It isn't love, it's an old obsession.
I think too much of you to let you wreck everything you have.
If Ken Starr would have me, I'd marry him tonight. I've always felt that way.
You're a writer and you're in love with drama. You can't tie yourself to a psychopathic case.
He's not a psychopathic case. He's...
All right, then arrange a dinner. Invite Ken and me. And also invite Elsa and Harlan McGrath.
No. He... Well, he isn't ready.
You arrange that dinner or the show's all over.
You wouldn't.
You fool the rest of the town with your story about Ken getting back from South America.
But you can't fool me. Remember? I was there.
Either you have that dinner party or I'll blow your little game sky high.
Harlan had to stop off and talk to a business acquaintance for a few minutes before he could leave, Ken.
And anyway, I wanted to see you alone first.
You're looking very handsome, Ken.
You're as lovely looking as ever, Elsa. You know, your voice still does things to me.
That's very flattering. Oh, I'm so glad to know you've done so well.
But I've missed you, Ken.
I've never missed you, Elsa, because you've always been with me.
Well, you've improved at making pretty speeches.
This... this Harlan McGrath, this new husband of yours, did I annoy him?
No, he was after your time. Oh, he's a grand person. You like him a lot.
No, Elsa, I'm afraid I'm not that big.
Ken, please. You won't make a scene. I couldn't bear it.
Oh, you never could stand scenes, could you, Elsa?
You've always been shielded from unpleasantness of any kind, till you married Bill Gaynor.
And you've got a big dose of the wrong side of life and random e for protection.
I suppose I should have testified at your trial, but I was so frightened.
I never did believe you killed Bill, though.
Oh, it's very big of you, Elsa.
Maybe... maybe it was that I thought I knew who had killed him and I was afraid to testify.
I've always been such a coward.
What? You had evidence that you held back? Evidence that would have cleared me?
I'm not sure. I... Ken, don't look at me like that. You... you frighten me.
Well... Oh, hello, Miriam. Larry.
You two have had long enough to yourselves. We decided to join the party.
From the look in your eye, Ken, I'd say Elsa still has that old black magic for you.
Larry.
We weren't talking about black magic, Larry. As a matter of fact, I was trying to get the dope on her husband.
Oh, you like him. Everybody likes Harlan. This time, I'm afraid there's no excuse for you to come dashing to Elsa's rescue, Ken.
Oh, by the way, where is Harlan?
There's no need to wait for him. He wasn't sure how long he'd be detained and said for us to go right ahead and start dinner.
But shouldn't we wait?
Nonsense. He won't mind a bit. After all, you're supposed to be on time for dinner appointments.
Well, if you're sure, it's all right.
Perfectly. Well, then we might as well go into the dining room right now.
I've never been here for dinner before, Miriam. Which way?
Right down the hall, Elsa. I'll lead the way.
Here.
Well, Harlan's already here. Harlan, why didn't you come into the living room?
He's sitting at the table.
There's something wrong.
Harlan. Harlan, what's the matter? Why don't you say something?
He's sick.
Just a minute.
Great Scott.
He's dead.
What? Oh no. No, that can't be.
Well, here we go again. I don't suppose there's a scratch on his right hand, is there?
Yes.
Yes, there is. It'll be filled with the deadly South American poison.
Some detective will find some of it in my apartment, somewhere.
Excuse me, this is where I came in.
Ken, Ken Selbert. Get him away from that window. Ken, what is this thing you're doing?
Oh, get it go away. I'll jump, Miriam. I don't think I'm up to going through all this again.
Oh, Mary, help me here.
No.
Sit down, Ken.
I guess we'll have to call the police.
Well, did Ken Star kill Alston McGrath's husband? What was the motive for his death?
How was it accomplished?
We'll find out in the second act of New Lease on Death.
Meanwhile, here's a brief message from our sponsor.
And now, act two of New Lease on Death.
Detective Cedric Darnay has taken over and seems quite perplexed at what should be a simple case.
You have no strength for me, Mr. Staff.
Sure, sure, why not? I've been through all this before.
It's a repeat performance. You'll find the poison in my apartment just across the hall.
Where?
Well, I'm afraid I can't help you there, Darnay. You'll have to look around.
But it'll be there.
Don't you worry. You got an admission that you killed Mr. McGrath?
Sure, why not?
No, he didn't do it, Mr. Darnay. He couldn't have done it.
No? Why not?
He was standing in the living room talking to Elsa McGrath when Mary Montag and I walked in.
Elsa said her husband had been detained by a call on a business acquaintance.
I see. You think then there is no possibility of collusion between Mrs. McGrath and Mr. Staff?
Quite. Of course not.
You concur in that opinion, Mr. Montag?
Why, I... I guess so. To be honest, about it I wouldn't know.
That's ridiculous. Ken and I hadn't seen each other for four years till we met here. I'll swear to that.
Swering to a statement does not impress me, Mrs. McGrath.
You see, a murderer has already done something so much more serious than breaking an oath.
What's all the talk about? Why don't you put me under arrest and get it over with?
You think because of your previous unfortunate experience with Mrs. McGrath's first husband you'll be in great trouble?
What do you think? No, Donny, I know when I've been struck out.
Whoever did it the first time is good enough to do it again.
Certainly. Mrs. McGrath, tell me, you're having any trouble with your husband?
No, certainly not.
If you'll pardon me, you do not seem to be greatly bereaved.
Harlan and I understood each other perfectly. Ours was no madly romantic love affair.
But we were fond of each other and, well, it was a very satisfactory arrangement.
She isn't capable of any real feeling for anybody but herself.
She let Ken Starr go through hell rather than be smeared in court.
Why, you little... And I thought you were my friend.
Nobody could be a friend of yours if it involved anything on your part.
You're the most selfish woman that ever lived. Oh, I am, am I?
I saw what you were up to when I came into the living room tonight.
You'd thrown Ken to the wolf, but he came back alive.
And when you saw him, you were planning how you could put him back on your shelf.
Really, Miriam? Oh, don't give me the grand dames stuff.
You never wanted him in the first place, but you never wanted anybody else to have him either.
You fool, what are you trying to do? Let this detective get us all into trouble.
I ought to... Oh, please, go right ahead. Don't mind me.
I find it most interesting. I, I'm sorry.
I suppose I should be ashamed of myself.
I think it, Miss Shelby, you feel you are a far more suitable mate for Mr. Starr than Mrs. McGrath.
I... How dare you talk like that.
I dare a great deal, Miss Shelby. You are afraid to put your emotions on display, hmm?
Murder is the most primitive of all emotions.
Well, I guess I've made a fool of myself.
All right, I'm in love with Ken Starr, and always have been.
What? Mr. Darnay, it seems that nobody's ever fallen for the right person around here.
Elsa's first husband was in love with a chorus girl, and Ken Starr was in love with Elsa.
Elsa was, well, in love with herself.
And Miriam Shelby carried the torch for Ken.
And I've been hanging around Miriam for five years, more or less, without results.
But his most helpful information, if correct, Mr. Montag, oh, it's correct all right.
It opens most interesting avenues of conjecture.
Eh? Like what? For example, your unrequited love for Miss Shelby.
See here, are you accusing me of murdering Harlan McGrath just to get Ken Starr out of the picture?
I make no accusations, Mr. Montag. I merely theorize.
I remember at the time of Bill Gaynor's death.
Remember, I told you tonight, Ken, I had a feeling maybe I knew the murderer.
Based upon what?
Bill had said something about having to see Larry Montag, and said he didn't know why Larry wanted to see him.
That's a lie. I had no appointment with Bill Gaynor. I never had a business appointment with him in my life or his.
It's a fine time to be tossing in a thing like that.
Over four years after his murder, the means of the gods grind slowly, sometimes, Mr. Montag.
As I recall, the same method was used for Mr. Gaynor's murder. Is that not correct?
Sure. Identical.
Well, why don't you go across the hall to my apartment and find the poison?
Here, here are my keys.
You are very bitter, Mrs. Starr.
Bitter? Why wouldn't I be bitter?
Look, Mr. Donne, I've been thinking. The dining room opens up the hall.
You can come into it without going through the rest of the apartment.
Yes?
Larry could have made a business appointment with Harlan McGrath, met him, and scratched his hand with that poison.
Then he could have brought him into the dining room, left him, and come up to the front entrance of the apartment.
Miriam, you don't know what you're saying.
Anyway, it will stand up, Miriam.
Why not?
Nobody would make the mistake twice of using his own name and setting him murder rendezvous.
Elsa, was the appointment made at Harlan's office?
Yes, why?
Five bucks will get you fifty. But the records will show his appointment was with me.
You see, I've been through all this before. I know just what to expect.
Oh, how do you do, Michelle B.
Sit down.
I'm honored by having you visit my office.
Ken told me you found the poison in the back of a dresser drawer in his apartment.
Yes, and the appointment was with Kenneth Star, too. At least, that name was used.
You're theorizing it was white last night, Mr. Donne. It must have been Larry Montag. It had to be.
He planned all this to get Ken out of the way.
You seem more sure of yourself, Michelle B.
I have a good reason for being positive. It was Larry Montag who planned that dinner party.
He said if I didn't have it, he'd tell the whole town how I'd pick Ken up out of the gutter and reclaimed it.
Why did you not tell me this before?
Well, I didn't realize how important it was.
It seems to be the one thing I needed.
He doesn't stand for reason that a man who narrowly escaped conviction of one murder would commit a second murder in the identical manner and plant clues against himself all over the place.
Then you put Larry under arrest?
Yes, immediately.
Hello, Ken. I thought you'd come in.
Elsa, you've heard about Larry Montag?
They've arrested him, haven't they? Poor fellow.
Things are different this time, Elsa.
What do you mean?
Well, this time I'm not mixed up in it. We can get married now, can't we?
You rather startle me, Ken.
There's nothing new about the idea, Elsa.
You've been away for more than four years. I hardly know you anymore.
But in some ways I haven't changed, Elsa. I'm still just as madly in love with you as I ever was. You still mean more to me than anyone else in the world.
Ken, I'm all mixed up on something. This job of yours in South America that everybody said was so tremendous.
Then while the detective was there, Larry said something about Miriam having picked you up when you were down and out.
What difference does it make?
Well, it makes a good deal of difference.
It better not, Elsa.
Look at me like that, Ken. After all, I'm used to nice things. I have expensive taste. I need a husband who has a good deal of money.
I'll get money all right.
Oh, you'll get it. But you don't have it, is that the point?
Look, look, Elsa. We're wasting time. We've wasted years. Let's go get married right now.
I'm not at all sure that I want to marry you.
Oh, I guess Miriam and Larry were right about you. The only person you're in love with is yourself.
Please hear, Ken Star. You can't talk to me like that. I'll thank you to get right out of this house.
Oh, you will, huh?
And hurry up about it.
You've got a lot of nerve ordering me out of your house. After all the hell you sent me through.
I had nothing to do with your being arrested.
Poor fool. You almost sent me to the electric chair. That telephone call to Bill Geer from Larry Montag was the important part of the whole setup.
And you never came forward and told about it.
What do you mean?
I arranged things so that it looked like somebody had planted evidence against me, tried to frame me.
But then I called for the appointment and said I was Larry Montag.
You said you were Larry Montag?
Of course. That was to be where his perfect crime broke down, you see. All the evidence pointing toward me.
But then that telephone call was to trip him up. And you didn't have the decency to step forward with a call. I couldn't ask about it because I wasn't supposed to know.
Then you really did kill Bill Geer. You're a murderer.
Yes. Yes, I killed him for you. You wanted it done, didn't you? You said you wanted to marry me.
That you couldn't stand living under the same roof as him. You made a bargain outside.
You thought I actually wanted you to commit murder?
You did want me to do it. You said you'd marry me in a minute if anything ever happened to Bill.
Well, something happened to him, all right. And you well stoned your deal.
You killed him.
We had a contract. We're going to keep that contract if I have to kill every man who ever looks at you.
You killed Holland, too.
Yes. It was almost too simple. I didn't cover up a thing. I deliberately set all the evidence against me.
I used my right name when I called Holland McGrath for an appointment. Said I wanted to talk to him about the death of your first husband.
I didn't even bother about hiding the poison. I didn't even deny killing him. And nobody believed me.
You won't get away with it. You'll go to jail. You'll be sentenced to death.
You think you can scare me with death, Elsa? You think you can scare me with death? A man who's already been through it?
No. I've nothing to lose, Elsa. I can risk anything to get back to life. You can give me...
You're insane. I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth.
You'll marry me or you don't ever marry anybody else, Elsa.
I'm not going to let you do that. You can't shoot me. You have to...
I wouldn't try to shoot you if I were you, Mr. Star.
We were just having a little argument.
I heard the argument. The whole thing. You were a clever killer, Mr. Star.
Allow me to congratulate you on the extreme subtlety of your methods. So subtle that they seemed almost impossible.
Thanks, darling. You overlooked only one thing.
What's that? The obvious motive.
Twice this lady's husbands were murdered and each time you were in love with her.
But you arrested Larry Montag. I fooled you enough for that.
No. I arrested him because you had not spoken to the charming lady about marriage.
You were afraid and I arrested Montag to give you security.
You're pretty clever yourself, darling.
Thank you. I consider that a compliment from an expert. And now if you will come with me to the police station...
Just a second. If you'll pardon me, there's one thing I have to do first.
No!
I'm ready now, darling. Here's my gun.
Do you realize that this brutal murder of Mrs. McGrath will inevitably mean electric chair for you?
But I'm not afraid. Nothing to lose. Remember? This is where I came in.
Well, Bobby, what's the story for next week?
It's a story about a newspaper reporter who gets fired from his job and plots a horrible murder as a result of it.
Hmm. Sore about being fired, huh?
It's a fast-moving story of revenge and how a hate-inspired mind works.
There's all the excitement and glamour of the newsroom, plus a murder puzzle that'll keep you on your toes right up to the final word.
Well, it sounds like one of your four-star specials. What's the title?
It's called Death of Deadline.