The strange Dr. Weird.
Good evening. Come in, won't you?
Why, what's the matter?
You seem a bit nervous. Perhaps the cemetery outside this house
is upset you. Look, there are things far worse than cemeteries.
For instance, a woman with murder in her heart is in my story tonight.
The story I call The Voice of Death.
My story, The Voice of Death,
begins in the snow-covered wilderness of Canada.
In a high, narrow canyon, a man and woman on skis
sit resting on the trunk of a fallen tree, catching their breath.
Blanche, I can't tell you how sorry I am that Uncle John didn't leave you anything in his will.
There's nothing to be sorry about, Gerald. After all, I was only your Uncle John's second cousin.
Well, I only wish Jane and Dan had taken it as well.
They certainly were downcast after the reading of the will this morning.
Naturally. They were your Uncle's niece and nephew too, and they had hoped to share this date with you.
You can't blame them for being disappointed.
No, I suppose not.
We'd better be starting back to the lodge.
I can see you're a little uneasy about being in this canyon.
Well, isn't it a bit dangerous being here?
Look at the way the snow's piled up above us on both slopes of this canyon.
If there was a snow slide, we'd be buried alive.
It isn't that dangerous. Of course, a loud noise or someone shouting might start a tide.
Come on, love.
There's some sort of scientific explanation for that, isn't there?
Hmm?
I mean, vibrations set up by the voice?
Yes, that's right. I've often stood outside the mouth of the canyon and started snow slides in here by shouting.
Snow slide must be quite a sight. Hundreds of tons of snow roaring and crashing down.
Oh, it is.
Well, you can breathe easily now. We're out of danger.
Oh, dear.
Blew something?
Oh, yes, my camera.
I think I left it back on the trunk of the tree we were sitting on.
Oh, Gerald, would you mind getting it for me?
No, of course not, Blanche.
You say it's on the trunk of the tree?
Yes. Yes, that's right.
Uh...
Do you see it, Gerald?
No, Blanche. I don't.
Well, perhaps it fell into the snow.
Look around.
I am walking, but I don't see any sign of it.
Perhaps it isn't in the...
Blanche! The snow! It's starting to slide!
Gerald, run this way!
Help! Help! Help!
Too bad, Gerald.
But that's what happens to people who stand between me and the million dollars.
Oh, Blanche, it's so horrible.
Gerald buried under all that snow.
Perhaps he should have stayed into the canyon until he found the body.
Nonsense, Jane. There's nothing we could have done there.
Dan and I will share Uncle John's estate now.
But I'd gladly give up my share if it would bring Gerald back along.
I know you would, dear.
Oh, we should have.
Oh, Blanche, it's so horrible.
Gerald buried under all that snow.
Perhaps he should have stayed into the canyon until he found the body.
Oh, dear, dear. We crossed the river here, Jane.
But the ice looks so thin.
Blanche, we didn't cross here on the way to the canyon, did we?
No, dear, this is a shortcut.
Blanche, it looks too dangerous.
It does, the quarter.
I'll tell you what I'll cross first.
Blanche, I wish you wouldn't.
That ice is going to break any minute.
Nonsense.
See, I'm already halfway across.
But I can see cracking the ice under your skin.
I know, but the ice is still strong enough to support me.
There, see? I made it.
All right, Jane, it's your turn now.
Blanche, I'm frightened.
Darling, there's nothing to be afraid of.
Now, come along.
Well, all right.
Look, you better take off your skis.
I think you'll find it easier to walk than ski over the ice.
You're not as good a skier as I am, you know.
Very well, Blanche.
I'll go with you, Jane, no.
Hurry, dear, it'll soon be dark.
I've got them off now.
Here I come.
That's it, I told you the ice would hold you.
Blanche, the ice feels as though it's going to give way under me any second.
Oh, he felt the same way when I crossed, but as you see, I managed to get here.
Hey, see, I can... it's breaking.
Come on.
Blanche, I... I can't swim.
Blanche!
Don't let me go!
Poor Jane.
She should have known better than to take off her skis before crossing the ice.
Well, now that leaves only Dan.
Will Blanche succeed in getting rid of Dan?
Will she get Uncle John's estate?
Will Dr. Weird be back to tell us about the rest of this chilling tale?
Yes, yes, I'll be back.
But with all these questions, aren't you going to ask one about Adam hats?
No, Doctor, I'm not.
You see, there are no questions about Adam hats,
because Adam is unquestionably the finest hat value in America today.
Seriously, every Adam, regardless of price, offers outstanding quality,
workmanship, choice of material, attention to detail.
The style features of Adam are just as remarkable.
Tailored and blocked by experts in an amazing variety of distinctive shapes and shades,
Adam hats offer the latest word in smart fashion.
No man can afford to neglect the appearance of his headgear.
Every man can afford an Adam.
Now let's see what chills the rest of your story will afford, Dr. Weird.
And now to continue my story, The Voice of Death.
It is the day following the tragic deaths of Gerald and James
in the living room of the luxurious lodge of the late John Drake,
of Blanche, Dan, and Sidney Rand, attorney for the estate.
There is a strange look in Mr. Rand's eyes as he speaks to Blanche.
All I can say is it looks very odd, Blanche.
First you go skiing with Gerald and he dies under a snow slide.
Then a few hours later, while alone with you, Jane drowns crossing a river.
I don't like your attitude, Mr. Rand. You act as though I caused their death.
Blanche is right, Mr. Rand. You haven't any right to say that.
The village coroner said their deaths were accidental.
I know what the village coroner said, but that doesn't mean that I have to agree.
Look, it's five o'clock now.
If you don't stop at the station right now, you're going to miss your train.
Dan, won't you change your mind and come with me?
No. I told you I'm staying up here for another week. I need the rest.
I just hope you won't find permanent rest up here.
And just what do you mean by that?
Just this. If anything were to happen to you, Blanche would be heir to everything.
Think it over.
Dan, you don't believe I had anything to do with their deaths, do you?
Of course not. Blanche is absurd to think that you could have been to blame in any way.
Four days passed, days in which steadily falling snow kept Blanche and Dan cooped up in the lodge.
With each day that passed, Blanche seemed increasingly nervous and jumpy.
For no reason was that apparent to Dan.
When the fifth day dawned bright and fair, Dan suggested a long ski run, and Blanche eagerly agreed.
After skiing a few minutes, she called out...
Dan! Dan, we aren't going through the canyon, are we?
Of course we are.
Dan, let's go around it this time.
That's three miles further on. What's wrong with going through the canyon?
Oh, is it because that's where Gerald died?
Yes, I get that, Dan.
Well, look, I hope you aren't brooding about Gerald's death. Blanche, you mustn't be.
I'm not brooding, but I... Dan, have you heard a voice calling outside the house the last few nights?
A voice?
Yes. I've waked up several times thinking I heard Gerald's voice calling out in the storm.
Blanche, look, you heard the wind howling. Now, come on, will you?
We've got to get through the canyon. That's the only way to calm your nerves.
There, girl. Now only another couple of hundred yards and we'll be out of the canyon.
Let's hurry, Dan. This is where it happens.
Come on along, then, if you want to hurry.
Whee! Whee!
The Gerald... Gerald's voice!
Blanche, come on.
Whee!
This is where you can go.
Blanche, come on.
Oh, no. No.
Blanche, why have you stopped? Come on.
This is where you can go.
Oh, I don't hear anything. I don't. It's just my imagination.
Blanche, come along.
I'll never leave you until you tell the truth.
Oh, no.
Come back.
Come back.
Yes. Yes, I'm here with you.
I caused the snow slides. I shouted and caused it.
I did it because the fortune was mine. Mine!
And I got cheated out of it.
Now be quiet. Don't talk to me anymore.
Don't talk to me.
Blanche, look out. The storm's flooding.
Come on. No, help me. Dan, help me.
No!
A moment later, as Dan stared stunned at the spot where Blanche had vanished beneath tons of snow,
Mr. Rand, the lawyer, came skiing up to him from around an outcropping of rock.
Dan, you fool. You were so close to that snow slide, you almost killed yourself.
Mr. Rancher, she's dead. She's buried under all that snow.
Yes, I know. Well, you heard her confess, didn't you?
Yes, but when I agreed to follow the instructions you left for me in the mailbox,
I never dreamed it would end like this.
I kept on telling myself she was innocent.
Yes, but she wasn't. I knew all along she couldn't be.
That's why I made her think I was clearing out.
Instead, I went down to the gamekeeper's cottage by the lake.
That's where I've been the last few days.
Yes, I guess that after I got your first note asking you not to show any surprise no matter what happened.
But, Mr. Rand, the voice that Blanche heard in the night and the voice just now,
I could have sworn it was Gerald's voice.
I counted on that. I knew Gerald well.
And vocal limitations are a sort of apoligric of mine.
My scheme was a wild one, Dan, but it was the only possibility of getting a confession from her.
Those murders she committed were perfect.
Two perfect murders. And she was so beautiful.
Her own screams brought down the snow slide that killed her.
And I don't think all the judges in the world could have found a more fitting punishment
than I want her own conscience provided.
Too bad about poor Blanche, wasn't it?
It looks as though the man who said the female of the species is more deadly than the male
knew what he was talking about.
By the way, if you're an heir and you know someone who stands to gain by your death,
I'd be very careful to stay away from...
Oh, you have to go now. Perhaps you'll drop in on me again soon.
Just look for the house on the other side of the cemetery.
The house of Dr. Weir.