My name is Russell. I'm the man whose adventures you will hear about in the mystery theater, which follows right away. Hello, headquarters? This is Patrolman Witt reporting from police call box number five at Drake Avenue. Any orders? Not an A. Okay. Here? No, it's beat as quiet as a church tonight. Yep, goodbye. What the hell? Gunshots. Came from that direction too. Here, here. What's going on? Oh, the policeman. I'm glad you came along. Officer, my name's Murray. What are you doing with that gun? Drop it. Yes, sir, but I want to report a murder. Wait a minute. This man here, he's dead. Who is he? I don't know. Oh, you don't, eh? Put your hands up. You're under arrest. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Jeffrey Barnes welcoming you to the program that presents the best in mystery and detective fiction. You have just heard the opening scene of tonight's exciting story. It is entitled The Eleventh Jura, written by Vincent Starrett and presents one of the most unusual court trials in mystery fiction. You have just heard the committing of the murder and the arrest of the accused, James Murray. But on with the trial. We take you now to the jury room where you will meet the leading character of Vincent Starrett's dramatic story, The Eleventh Jura. Yes, my name is Russell, Steve Russell. I'm the eleventh juror of the jury assigned to the case of the people versus James Murray. We've been out for two and a half days and every ballot we've taken has had the same results. Eleven to one for a guilty verdict. I'm the one. I'm the holdout. And by now, my fellow jury men are crying to go home and beginning to hate me. Hate me because I won't go along with them and hang an innocent man. Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute, please. Now, wait a minute. Quiet down. Now, look here, Mr. Dean. Being foreman of this jury doesn't give you the privilege of riding roughshod. I demand that we take another ballot. Riding roughshod. Huh. Look who's talking. Mr. Russell, as you well know, we've had 27 ballots now. And unless you're ready to change your vote... Hold on. Hold on. How do you know some of the others won't change their vote? Now, let them have his ballot, Dean. Maybe it'll make them see the light. Okay. So we'll have another ballot. Get out the pencils, boys. Well, I got writers cramp, can't we just have a voice vote? Okay. Okay. Voice vote it is. And Russell, if you lose this time, I hope you'll get over your pigheadedness and come along with us. I'm not half as pigheaded as you are, Dean. Oh, you're not, eh? Well, let me tell you. Come on. Come on. Are we going to vote or aren't we? All right. All right. All who vote guilty say aye. Aye. All opposed? Aye. 11 to 1. Same old song and dance. Well, I'm sorry, boys, but like I've said before, unless one of you can prove to me that James Murray had some motive to kill Howard... Motive be hanged. Murray was drunk. He shot Blessing in a drunken rage. Oh, don't waste your breath arguing with him. In two hours, the judge will be calling this a mistrial and then some other jury can put the noose around Murray's neck. Well, they all want to hang Murray so that they can go home. Well, who doesn't want to go home? I dare say my business suffers from my absence more than theirs does. You know, if it wasn't for Dean, I think my argument about James Murray having no motive for this killing would carry more weight because Murray didn't have any motive. He didn't have any at all. Let me tell you about the trial and you'll see what I mean. Just the highlights. First, there was a testimony of patrolman Witt. He was a policeman who made the arrest. Continue, Officer Witt. Well, I ran in the direction I heard the shots come from. Howard Blessing lay dead with two bullets in him. James Murray stood there just looking at the gun in his hand sort of dazed like I could tell he'd been doing a lot of drinking. How long between the time you heard the shots and the time you reached the scene, Officer? About half a minute. Then isn't it possible that someone other than Murray could have fired the shots, dropped the gun, and run, leaving Murray to pick the gun up before you reached the scene? Never mind, that's all. State's witness. Officer Witt, is it not so that the murder took place directly beneath the street light? Yes, sir. When you rounded the corner of Belvedere and Lambeth a quarter block away, did you see anyone else in the street, anyone at all? No, sir, not a soul. Just the prisoner, James Murray, and the deceased, Howard Blessing. There you are, gentlemen. Why, the defense is evidently trying to confuse you by implying that some unknown murderer exists. Had anyone else fired those shots and run, leaving poor Mr. Murray holding the gun, Officer Witt would have seen this unknown man in the street light. Objection. Even the prosecutor could run out of the range of the street light in a few seconds. We are wasting time, Your Honor. I am not concerned with a mythical murderer, a galloping ghost. We are concerned with James Murray, caught standing over a dead man and holding a smoking revolver in his hand. Mrs. Pearson, you live on the ground floor apartment on Lambeth Avenue near Belvedere? Yes, sir. Tell the court what you heard about two o'clock on the night of the murder. Well, I was sitting by the window when I heard two men pass by. They were arguing. You heard the prisoner speak. Was either of the voices his? I beg your pardon? I said, was either of the voices you heard that of the prisoner? Certainly not. One man had a kind of whiny voice. The other was deep and rumbly like. Gentlemen, Howard Blessing, the murdered man had a whiny voice. We can prove that. James Murray is far from having a deep one. That's all, Mrs. Pearson. Thank you. Your witness, Mr. Prosecutor. Mrs. Pearson, you didn't see these men, did you? What was that? I say you didn't see the men. Oh, no, it was too dark. But you heard them plainly. How? But you heard them. Yes, sir. Mrs. Pearson, did you hear the shots fired a few minutes later? I beg your pardon? I said, did you hear the revolver shots? No, but I... Rather than Mrs. Pearson, heard two men arguing through a closed window, yet she couldn't hear three pistol shots less than a block away. She can barely hear my questions in this room. That's all, Mrs. Pearson. Mr. Trapp, you've known the deceased Howard Blessing for some time. About five years. We were pretty good friends. And you knew Blessing was a widower, Mr. Trapp, whose wife died some years back? Yes. Did Howard Blessing ever show you a small framed miniature of his wife? Oh, yes. Many times he always carried it with him. Did he show it to you the night he was killed? Yes. Did you see him put it back on his person? Yes. What is the point of this line of questioning? I am trying to establish, Your Honor, that this miniature disappeared, that it was taken from the murdered man by some unknown person. That's all, Mr. Trapp. Prosecution is witness. No questions. Mr. Murray, how did you happen to be at Belvedere and Lambeth at the time of the murder? Well, I was on my way home. I had had several drinks. I don't know, frankly, how I got where I was. I was just there. Did you have a gun on your person when you left the Black Owl Tavern to go home? Oh, certainly not. Mr. Murray, did you ever know or hear of the deceased Howard Blessing until the morning of your arrest? Oh, never. So help me God, I never knew him, never heard of him. He was a total stranger? Yes, total stranger. That's all. Prosecution is witness. Mr. Murray, Mr. Murray, where do you live? 102 Bedford Road. And you were drinking at the Black Owl Tavern on Oak Street? Yes, sir. Then how could you have been on your way home at Belvedere and Lambeth? I don't know. I just wandered that way. I see. And then you're wandering, Mr. Murray, you plucked a gun out of thin air, huh? Oh, no, that is, I don't know how I got here. Gentlemen, gentlemen, why go on? In summing up Mr. Murray's testimony, we find that he says he was innocent, but admits he was too drunk to know. We find that he was on his way home, but going in the opposite direction. We learned that Mr. Murray didn't have a gun with him. The gentleman, the gun found in his hand and marked exhibit A on that table, that is no mirage. Nor was the dead Howard Blessing a mirage, nor the bullets that killed him. That is stark truth. That is murder. Now, what has the defense offered as proof of Murray's innocence? A witness so hard of hearing that she couldn't hear revolver shots, yet who claims she heard two men argue as they passed her window. A vague story about a miniature which the dead man didn't have on his person. And then the fact that Murray did no blessing. Oh, that is a honey. Is blessing any less dead because he was a man of the this, this gun toting drunkard? No gentlemen, Murray kill blessing. Stranger or not, he's guilty. Murray must hang. Well, those were the highlights of the trial. Oh, I admit the circumstantial evidence against James Murray is pretty strong. But the judge said if there was any reasonable doubt in our minds as to whether Murray killed Howard Blessing, we should find Murray innocent. Well, there's plenty of reasonable doubt in my mind. Oh, that must be the bailiff coming in to ask if we reached a decision. Yeah, the two hours have passed. Well, now it looks like we'll have to admit a mistrial. Well, boys, this is it. I'll let him in. Oh, just a minute, Dean. You dropped something. Huh? What? What did I drop? Oh, on the floor here. Oh, I'm sorry. On the floor here. Looks like. Looks like it. Holy mackerel. What's the matter, Russell? What is it? This changes everything. Just a minute, boys. Bailiff, come back in 30 minutes. Hey, what goes? What's the idea, Russell? What was that you picked up off the floor? Look here, Russell. What do you think you are telling the bailiff to come back in 30 minutes? You'll find out all too soon, Mr. Dean. Fellow jurors, now you'll have to listen to me. Fellow jurors, fellow jurors, listen to me. You all remember during the testimony that the defense made a point out of the fact that a certain miniature during the picture of Howard Blessing's wife disappeared from Blessing's pocket just before he was murdered. Well, boys, before we decide to hang Murray, perhaps Mr. Dean would like to explain what this miniature happened to be doing in his pocket. And now back to Jeffrey Barnes and Act Two of the Eleventh Jury. James Murray, a smoking gun in his hand, has been found standing drunkenly over the body of one Howard Blessing. All the jurymen, with the exception of Steve Russell, believe Murray is guilty of murder. Russell has held out for nearly three days. Just as the foreman of the jury, a Mr. Dean, is about to report a mistrial to the court. Russell electrifies the jury room by demanding to know how a mysterious miniature, supposedly belonging to the murdered man, has found its way into Dean's pocket. For the tenth time, fellow jurymen, I tell you, I never saw that miniature before in my life. And I don't know how it could have gotten into my pocket. And Dean's the man, my friends, who wouldn't believe James Murray when he said he didn't know how that gun got in his hand. How about that, Dean? It's a story that doesn't hold water, Dean. Take it easy, will you, fellas? All right, boys, just a minute, just a minute, please. Just a minute. I think this thing has gone far enough now. I've made my point. Huh? What point, Russell? Here's what Dean dropped out of his pocket. Well, I'll be... That's my watchfob. What? Your watchfob? Hey, what goes here? What is this, Russell? Boys, when Dean accidentally dropped that watchfob on the floor, I saw my chance to teach all of you a lesson. A lesson? I picked it up, said it was the miniature, then slipped it in my pocket and watched you fellas swarming all over Dean, ready to hang him with the drop of the hat. On circumstantial evidence, circumstantial evidence, mind you. Now, don't you see that you're doing the exact same thing to James Murray? No one actually saw him shoot Howard Blessing, and Murray was too drunk to know what happened. I claim somebody else could have shot Blessing, shoved the gun into Murray's hand and beat it. Now, wait a minute, Russell. I admit you've made us all look like fools over this watchfob, but that doesn't prove your story about an unknown killer. Not for my money, it doesn't. Oh, why not? Perhaps a holdup man, a thug killed Blessing. Why wasn't his money taken? Okay, so it wasn't a holdup man. Perhaps it was some enemy of his. Why, there could have been a hundred different reasons why somebody might have wanted to kill Blessing. Oh, yeah? Name one. Name one? I could give you a dozen right here and now. I said give just one. What's the matter, Russell? Did he call you a bluff? Yeah, you can't even name a bluff. Now, now, wait a minute, wait a minute. Do I understand you fellows to mean that if I can make up a story showing how Blessing was killed, you'll admit there's a reasonable doubt of Murray's guilt? Huh? Why not? Well, I for one would anyhow. How about the rest of you? Okay, sit tight and hold your hats. As I said, I can make up a dozen different stories. So this is just one way the murder might have happened. Oh, I like it. Now let's say about ten years ago in a small Ohio town there's a guy named Smith. Let's call him, call him George Smith. Ten years ago. Some start. Quiet, now give him a chance. Smith's standing on the station platform with a girl and we'll call her Elsie. She's crying a little and he's talking to her. He says... I don't want to go, sweetheart, but I can't make a cent, Miss Berg. You want to marry me, don't you, dear? And she says... Yes, darling, yes, and I know you're right. I know father won't let us marry till you've got money and a good job. But it might take so long and I love you so much. There, you get the picture? Smith is leaving for the big city to make lots of money so the old man will okay his marrying Elsie. Well, the train's about to go and they kiss. And Smith hops aboard shouting... Wait for me, darling. Wait. And she says... Forever, George, forever. Well, get this. She doesn't wait. No, no, no, no, no, no, it's not her fault. Another guy comes on the scene. He's a rat of a guy with flashy clothes and a fast line of patter. And he works on Elsie, real slow and smooth. And the rat says... Hi, Elsie. I was talking to Tommy in the barbershop today. Said he heard George was doing well in Chicago. He says his father saw George at one of the hot spots there when he was in Chicago last month. You see, you see, this home base robber starts slow, but let's say in about a year he's got Elsie so she believes most anything. Now, Russell, I don't see what this corny story of yours has to do with the case. Dean, let me finish. Okay, shoot. By the way, Russell, who is this rat? Suppose we say his name's Howard Blessing. Huh? Blessing? A murdered man? What are you getting at? Shut up and let him talk. What happens next, Russell? Well, Smith had no way of figuring out why when his letters weren't answered. He stays on in the city and finally a wedding announcement reached him. Just a wedding announcement. So Blessing has ruined the boy meets girl routine, eh? Right, right. Now let's say Smith knows Blessing from way back while it burns him up, see? Mr. and Mrs. Blessing instead of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, get it? But he's a right sort so he swallows it. Only it hurts going down. Brother, have you got an imagination? You ought to write for the movies. He sure should. But what's all this got to do with Murray? Why do you interrupt so much, Dean? Well, don't you want me to finish the story? Well, I... Well, I have no objection. All right then, shut up. Go ahead, Russell. Right, right. Now let's say a few years pass and one day Smith gets a letter. And it's a letter from the girl's mother. It's a sad letter saying... Dear George, my baby married a fiend whose brutality and unfaithfulness finally became more than she could bear. We found my poor little girl hanging in her cellar last Monday as suicide. Howard Blessing is as much a murderer as though he had done it. So let's say the letter went something like that, huh? Now if you fellows sat in judgment on Blessing, what would you do? Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you guys going to let him go on with his third-rate version of Eastland? No skin off your nose, Dean. Now look, Dean, this is the third time you've interrupted. Are you sure you haven't some reason why Russell shouldn't finish the story? Well, no. Okay, go ahead, Russell. Yeah, go ahead. All right, all right, all right, all right. Well, let's imagine Blessing caught sight of Smith in town one day. Might make a guy like Blessing carry a gun from then on, mightn't it? Might. Well, we're supposed to anyway. Fine. Now comes the night of the murder. Smith runs into Blessing on Lambeth Avenue. Smith says he's going to beat Blessing's head off. They go up the street arguing. And that's what the Pearson woman heard through her window. They get to the corner and Blessing begins to whine. He takes out the miniature of his dead wife, Elsie, and he shows it to Smith. And Blessing says, Smith, look, I want to show you something. Look, I love Elsie. Here, I've got her picture. Would I carry it with me if I hadn't loved her? Well, that's all Smith needs, the sight of that picture. He slaps it out of Blessing's hand and grabs it by the collar. Blessing pulls a gun out of his pocket. Smith grabs his hand and says, Give me that gun, you idiot. Blessing pulls the trigger. Once. And Smith grabs Blessing's wrist. Smith wants to protect himself, you see. All right, all right. The men struggle. And suddenly the gun goes off. Twice. Blessing's head. He goes down. Right there is where Murray comes up. He staggers up, drunk as a hudal. And then Smith scoops up the miniature and beats it, leaving Murray standing over the dead man. Then the cop rushes up, sees Murray, and Murray's on the way to the gallows. Exactly. Absolutely right. And that, boys, is one story of how it might have happened. Well, I put it on the cuddly. You know very well it could. Because they are born to be cuddly. And they think he's the guy? He is. He's got a boy. Now, now, you want to hear a few more possibilities? Not me. I'm convinced there's plenty of reasonable doubt about Murray's guilt. I vote for acquittal. I do too. All right, let's make that official. Let's make it official. All in favor of acquittal signify by saying aye. Aye. Well, that does it. I think we're now ready to inform the court that we've reached a verdict. Not so fast. What? I haven't voted yet. A few questions. Yes, Dean? You say you made this story up? That's right. Then it proves nothing, right? Sure it does, Dean. It proves somebody besides Murray might have killed Blessing. It proves reasonable doubt. Not in my book it doesn't. I still think Murray is guilty. So this is still a mistrial. What? Right back where we started. This is the last straw. So let's call the bailiff and get it over with. Bailiff? Bailiff? He'll be here in a minute. And what do you think of that, Russell? I think I'm licked. I think I can't stall any longer. Dean, I've convinced everyone but you. Now I'm going to convince you. Take a look at this. What is it? Let me see. What is it? This is a miniature. A miniature? That's right. And this means that you... Right again. Take a good look, boys. The George Smith in my story is me, Steve Russell. Holy mackerel. Gee, how's that? By coincidence, luck, chance, I was called on this jury. And then I couldn't stand to see Murray die. Well, where do we go from here? You called me, Foreman? Huh? Oh, yes, bailiff. You can tell the judge we've arrived at a verdict. Yes, sir. And bailiff? Yes? Yes, Mr. Dean? Bailiff, step outside a moment. Yes, sir. Boys, we all know Murray is innocent. But what are we going to do about Russell? As you know, the proceedings in this jury room are confidential. Any recommendation we make must be made officially to the court. Now, do we turn Russell over for trial or not? Well? Mr. Foreman, I... Yes? Well, I say we forget Russell's story. What about the rest of you? Dean, in my opinion... Yes? In my opinion, Russell killed Blessing in self-defense. I say we forget about it. Have a good eye, sir. Okay, then. It's agreed. We find Murray not guilty and let it go at that. The case is closed. There is an epilogue to tonight's story. Steve Russell eventually, of his own volition, stood trial and was acquitted. Yes, mystery fans, I think we can call the 11th jury's attempt to save an innocent man a complete success. This is Geoffrey Barnes again, ladies and gentlemen, inviting you to be with us next week when we will present Eric Ambler's suspenseful study of mortal terror. His popular adventure in mystery entitled Journey Into Fear. It was especially adapted for radio by the very popular Milton Geiger. So, mystery fans, be sure to listen next week to Eric Ambler's Journey Into Fear. The original music is composed and conducted by Jack Miller. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. The 11th juror was written by Vincent Starrett and adapted for radio by Christopher Mayo. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service. The Armed Forces Radio Service.
