If you were planning to commit murder openly, and yet wanted not to be caught, you would of course choose a time of year when the streets would be filled with people. People in outlandish costume, celebrating a holiday. In fact, the perfect night for your crime would be Halloween. Hello creeps, this is T4Y opening the doors to the mystery playhouse. I feel a word of explanation is due about tonight's play. It's called The Ghost with the Gun. It was written by Anthony Boucher, and it's a story that could take place only on the night of all Hallows. Halloween to you. It's a wonderful device Mr. Boucher has used, a clever and ingenious device. And so I'm going to ask you to imagine for the next twenty-five minutes that it is Halloween, and you're busy answering doorbells rung by children busy playing trick or treat. Or, if you'd rather, you may be one of the players. There isn't anything unusual about people living in stores in Berkeley, California. Most of their owners abandoned them to fight for Uncle Sam, and were glad enough to rent them out to the war workers who had piled into town looking for any available space they might try to call home. Tonight in one of these two bivouards are a man and woman. They might be any ordinary, fairly young couple as she sows and he tries to concentrate on the evening paper. They might be, but let's step inside and listen. What's wrong Rose? Oh, another one of those kids with a mask at the window. Trying to scare us. You're just encouraging them then, answering the door every time and giving them candy when they ring. That's what I bought it for. Don't forget honey, we were kids once. Trick or treat, mister. Trick or treat? You know what I mean mister. Do I get a treat or play Halloween tricks on you instead? Well, I guess it'll have to be a treat this time. Gee, candy, too hands full. Thanks mister. Trick or treat, wonder what they do if I held out on them sometimes. Not much to this place. Please don't remind me that I gotta live here with you and that Joe Barker in a store facing right on the street where you gotta soap up your own window so people can't look in and think you're an ad for tomato juice or something. Listen honey, where's there a safer place for me to hole up? Berkeley's full of transients now. Nobody keeps an eye on strangers. Too many of them. And with Joe already working here, it was a natural. How do you know you can trust Joe? Don't worry about him. We're old buddies. I told you that honey. I'd sure like to know where he's getting all the money he throws around. He don't earn all that out at the war plant. Don't ask too many questions, Rose. Then you don't get into any trouble. Oh Ben, if that's another one of those... Ah honey, they're just having fun. Trick or treat, mister. Trick or treat, huh? This kid's got a swell racket, you know. The shakedown, we used to call it back in... Ben! Okay, Rose. I'm sorry. Trick or treat, mister. Here's some candy. Run along, kid. Hey, thanks. You're okay, mister. How about a little treat for us, honey? I brought a bottle home for Halloween. Oh, wait till Joe comes home from the movies. He'll have a drink with you. I gotta have to drink now to Halloween right now. Ben, even that stuff don't give you courage anymore. That's okay. I've got enough courage to hang on to you. Oh, let's get out of this place, Ben. You can't do any good here sitting in the house all day afraid of your own shadow. Turn it out, Rose. It's true. I know you're scared. Don't if I don't like Halloween. Boy, Joe and I used to celebrate back in Chicago when we was kids. Maybe that's what got us started. You walk up to some dope and you tell them trick or treat or else. Oh, don't go, Ben. Maybe they'll leave us alone. Just one more, honey. I'm having fun. Trick or treat, Mr. Flaxner. Mr. Flaxner, it is this time. Well, you're a real polite ghost. But suppose I said trick this time, Mr. Ghost. Yes, what would you do? Rose, Rose, honey, it shot. Somebody shot it. Oh, Ben, you hurt. Oh, Ben, Ben, say something. Don't die. Oh, Ben. Ben, don't leave me like this. Rose, Rose. Ben. Rose, Rose, Ben. Rose, what's happened? Oh, Joe, Joe, you're home. I fainted, I guess. Ben. Ben's dead, Rose. Rose, you shot him. No, Joe, no, I didn't do it. It was one of them kids that come playing Halloween tricks. It was dressed like a ghost. Then what's the gun doing here on the floor? I didn't see it before, Joe, honest. The ghost, that thing, whatever it was, must have thrown it in here afterwards. What was it? Couldn't you see? Just something white sort of floating away in the dark. Oh, okay. Well, I'm not surprised, I knew Ben was mixed up in something back in Chicago. Had to come out here. He shot a man, Joe, I can tell you now. Johnny Angelino was his name, they called him the Angel. I got crossed up in black market liquor. That's why we had to skip town, why he left Ben sent for me. Oh, so that was it. I knew he was scared of his skin. But you and me, baby, we got to keep our linen clean. What do you mean, Joe? Well, I'm not like him, I've got sense. And first I got to get rid of this gun. Joe, you still think that I... I don't care who did it. You know I went for you like a ton of bricks when I first laid eyes on you. Don't, Joe, please, not like this with him lying there. Okay, baby. But I gave Ben his break. Now I'm looking out for you and me, understand? Oh, Joe, don't leave me alone with him. I'm getting a San Francisco train right now. Paying a local fare, getting off the first stop and walking back. Now leave this gun on the train, you get it? What if somebody comes? Maybe they heard the shot. Keep your nerve, baby. It's not likely anybody will show up if nobody's come by this time. Now give me five minutes, then call the police. But, Joe, what did they think? I was alone with them. Tell them the same story you told me. You still think that I... I told you I don't care. You and me, we're like this from now on. Joe, Joe, don't you... You're hurting me. Just like this. Oh, Joe. That's us. Now give me five minutes and then get on that phone. And so, Miss Franklin, you and the murdered man were sharing this place? With me, Inspector. You say he was shot about 7.30 or so? About that time, Inspector. We had the radio on, listening to one of those mystery programs, and was over just a short time before. That's right, Inspector. I heard it myself. It's off the air at 7.30. Oh, it's you, Willoughby, you know, good rookie cop. Where were you when I wanted you? You heard what the lady said, listening to the mystery program. Well, just keep out of my way, Willoughby. I'm doing all right without you. You messed me up this time with your phony clothes, and the armed services won't be the only thing you'll be recently discharged from. All right, Joe, your name's Joe Barker, that right? Correct, Joe Barker. And where were you when I... I was at a movie. One of them double bills at the campus theater. Don't go, it's lousy. Oh, yeah? Well, look, Barker, what time was it when you were at the show? Oh, I got out about 7.30. Takes about 20 minutes to get up here. I was walking. What about the gun, Inspector? The men haven't found it yet, Willoughby. Nowhere on this block, anyways. But they did find this. That's it. A white sheet and a mask. Whoever shot Ben was wearing it. Ah, well, that might help us some. Might help us, Inspector? I'd say it tells us from the size of the sheet, our murderer would have to be five feet or under to be completely covered and disguised. That's right. He looked awful short. I am. Either of you happen to know anybody five feet or under who might have wanted this man out of the way? Gee, Inspector, I don't know right off. Joe, what about that hunchback? You're right, Rose. Listen, Inspector, Miss Franklin here and I heard Ben and this hunchback having a row one night. He wouldn't say what it was about. A hunchback? Wait, and there's somebody else. Helen, a girl named Helen Kirk. Oh, Rose, you don't think... Oh, Jo and I. Well, she was a friend of Ben's before I came out here. She works out where Joe does. She's little, not over five feet. A hunchback and a doll, huh? Miss Franklin, where did you say you and Ben Flaxner came from? Chicago. Cheyenne. You didn't mean to say Chicago, did you? No, Cheyenne. Both of us come from there. All right, that'll be all for now. Don't leave town. I'll be wanting to see both of you again. Well, Inspector, uncovered any startling facts since my roast beef and coffee? No dope on Flaxner at all from Cheyenne, will it be? I thought not. Well, look at these wires. I've got plenty from Chicago and Washington, too. So they know Ben Flaxner's fingerprints both places, huh? I thought the girl slipped up about Chica, Cheyenne. He was in the black market in Chicago? Hmm, and liquor mostly. Doing all right, too, until some mug named Johnny Angelino got bumped off. Well, they think Flaxner did it. They said the cops couldn't get anything on him, but they think Angelino's pals did. That's why Flaxner blew town. Johnny Angelino-ed it. That name sounds familiar. Well, you probably remember him as the Angel, Inspector. He was a dwarf, four feet eight or nine, I'd say, at the most. Just the right size for our trick-or-treat killer. Hmm. A ghost with a gun. Oh, but he couldn't be, Willoughby. Ghosts don't come back and kill their own murderers with the same gun used on them. Or do they? Oh, doggone it, Willoughby. I know you'd get me all balled up again if I let you in on this case. Take it easy, Inspector. Remember, we have two other suspects beside the ghost. Let's check up on their alibis. Open the door. Open this door. Who are you? What do you want? It's late. I go to sleep. What do you want? In, first of all. Ah, that's better. Sorry to get you out of bed, but it's really only half past twelve. Geno only, poor Anspec. What do you want with me? Plenty. You're handling black market poultry. You had a row with a corpse of mine. It happens he used to play black market games, too. I don't talk. No? You better come along with me. Maybe the boys can persuade you to open up. I don't go with you. Okay, big boy, drop that gun. When did he come in? Just now, and just in time, I guess. Maybe not, not while I... There, you take this. I guess that'll put him where we want him for a while. Eh, Geno? What hit me? I did. What's your game, impersonating an officer? Impersonating? I hope the inspector never hears that one. He tried to take me away. So you're in this with a hunchback. My name's O'Rourke, bud. Take a look at this. Federal Bureau of Investigation. Oh, on the level. Since when are the FBI and city police playing cops and robbers with each other? Here's my credential scare hook. Oh, that's a good one. Yeah, except it landed on my chin. I'm sorry, Willoughby. I took you for one of the black market boys mixed up with Geno here. Yeah, what's a G-man doing stooging for a black market operator? Turn that the other way around, Willoughby. Geno's our stooging, a whale of a good one. I thought you were from the gang he's working on. I help the low, help to catch you black market boys. But what were you doing with Ben Flaxner? Well, one of the black market boys see him, telling me he used to work with Johnny Angelino. Maybe he will work with us. Then we catch him. He telling me, think about it. Okay, but where were you tonight at 7.30? He was with me, Willoughby, making out a report. Well, I guess that still leaves me with a ghost. A ghost? Yeah, a ghost and a doll. I think I'll check on the doll first. Miss Helen Kirk, I believe? Say, how'd you get in my apartment? Your landlady was very helpful when she found out I was the law. You're a cop. Where do you get off coming here at this hour? Yeah, my watch says nearly 1.30. I just quit work. Then I don't suppose you heard about Ben Flaxner? Benny? What's happened to him? Tonight between 7.30 and 8 sometime, he was shot and killed. What? But who'd want to kill Benny? That's what I'm trying to find out. You and the murdered man were friends? Sure, I knew Benny. Before he brought her out here. Oh, he hadn't told you about Rose Franklin before? No, he didn't, the little skunk. Oh, well, pardon me. I guess now I ought to have more respect. I guess you didn't see much of him when she arrived, huh? Well, that was no skin off my teeth. But I got plenty of other chances. I can imagine. Thanks. You're not so bad yourself. I can see you're the cute type men really go for. Yeah, I guess I'm what you might call petite in French. Yeah, most of you men like them little. Like you. Come here. Look at me with my shoes off. I say, you're no bigger than a kid. Ain't it the truth? I don't even come up to your chin. No, about four feet eight or nine, I'd say. Well, you don't have to back away. I wasn't going to bite you. You know, Ben Flaxner, for whom you just mourn so prettily, was shot by someone just your height, Miss Kirk. She told you that, didn't she? She sicked your aunt to me, that Rose. No, no, she merely suggested I look you up. Why do you go and believe what she tells you? She's jealous of me. How do you know she didn't make that story up? That ghost and everything to get even with me. How do you know she didn't do it herself? Now, now, now, Miss Kirk, you mustn't get so excited. You think maybe I could have done it? Nobody's accusing you of anything... at the moment. Well, well, well, good morning, Inspector. It's not that good, Willoughby. Did you follow that tip I gave you last night on the Kirk dame? Yeah, yeah, I followed the tip. You checked at the Richmond plant? Yeah, I checked at the Richmond plant. You want to know what I found? Helen Kirk got to work on time last night, was working at the time Flaxner was killed. Yeah, looks like I was, shall we say, on the wrong track. Yeah, I should say we shall. You better take this next news sitting down, rookie. Sounds familiar. Well, shoot. We got a report on a slug. The gun that killed Flaxner was identically the same type of brand new make that killed Johnny Angelino, the angel. But Inspector, ghosts don't come back and kill people. You said that yourself. Yeah, yeah, but it's got to be somebody five feet or under. You said that yourself. Hey, maybe I gave myself a bum steer. Hmm. Inspector, wait a minute. Can you get me that sheet and the mask we found last night? What for now? I'm visiting every kid on that block after school today. One of them must have seen that ghost with a gun last night. I don't be frightened, Tommy. You were out last night playing trick or treat, weren't you? I didn't do nothing to make the police come. Oh, look at this, Tommy. Is this your sheet and mask? No, no, it ain't. You can ask my dad and mom. They'll tell you. Yeah, sure. I was at Flaxner's last night, Mr. Willoughby. I didn't have a chance to see him. I was just a little kid. You were at Flaxner's last night, Mr. Willoughby? I didn't have anything to do with him getting killed. Did you see anybody else around playing trick or treat? Sure, sure. Lots of kids were out. Were any of them wearing this sheet and this mask? Sure. That's Terry Murdoch. He lives down on the next corner. This is your sheet, isn't it, Terry? And this is the mask you wore last night. No, no, they're not mine. Your mother said they were. Honest, they're not. She said you came home early last night, went right to bed, and had terrible nightmares. She had to sit up with you. No, no, I didn't. She said you were so upset you couldn't go to school today. I was sick, though. Because something happened last night that frightened you. Isn't that it? Yes. Yes. What was it, Terry? I don't know. Terry, you're a junior G-man, aren't you? That's what your mother said. Now, I want to help. I want you to help me. Oh, how? Something happened when you called at Flaxner's place last night, and he was shot. Now, you know what it was. Now, try to help me, Terry. Okay, I'll try. It scared me awful. I tried to yell even, but I couldn't. It was like everything bad I ever dreamed about. Hello? Inspector, this is Willoughby. What now? How about rounding up Helen Kirk and Geno the Hunchback and having them both over at Flaxner's place at seven tonight? Oh, and be sure Rose Franklin and the Barker guy are there. What are you doing now? Giving a little party? Yes, Inspector, I'm giving a little Halloween party of my own tonight, even if I am a day late. And guess who's going to be guest of honor? I'm afraid I couldn't possibly. Why, Inspector, the ghost with a gun, of course. Hey, what's going on around here? I can't wait the whole evening. I've got a day. Keep quiet. Wait a minute. I see all of our guests have arrived. Oh, yes, Mr. Willoughby. Oh, but the one you're supposed to bring. Yeah, you're a little late, aren't you, copper? But not too late, Miss Kirk. Hey, what do you want with me? You'll see, Gino, and you too, Miss Franklin, and Mr. Barker. I found our ghost with a gun of last night. The one who shot Ben? No, the ghost didn't shoot Ben Flaxner, Miss Franklin. There was something standing behind our ghost, something that came sneaking up behind our little trick-or-treat boy when he rang your bell, something crouching behind him, waiting, and shot. Willoughby, Willoughby, please, you sure you know what you're talking about this time? This time, Inspector, yes. So you see, our murderer didn't have to be five feet or under after all. But didn't this here ghost see who it was? This here ghost, Miss Kirk, was grabbed from behind, his mouth covered so he couldn't scream, by two very long, strong arms, and whisked away into the night. He... the ghost knows who the real killer is? He thinks he might. Oh. When the thing got him out of sight into a pitch-black alley, he warned him never to tell what had happened, or he'd come back and put him out of the way like he'd shot Flaxner. I thought you said you were bringing this ghost over tonight as guest of honor, Willoughby. He's waiting outside. Come on in, Terry. Terry Murdoch. This is your ghost, and I think the thing that crouched behind him is here with us in this room right now. Am I right, Terry? Yeah. I know him now, Mr. Willoughby. Inspector, the gun, Barker's gun. Grab him, Willoughby, grab him. I've got him. I had a nick him in the hand. I had to shot the kid on the go. Joe, it was you. And if I'm not mistaken, this gun you were about to use is the same one you used to kill Ben Flaxner. Well, Joe, you told me you'd left it on the train. Probably a gag, Joe. To let you think he was protecting you. Gee, why'd he shoot that poor little guy? Because Barker's up to his neck in black market dealings here in Berkeley. Flaxner knew it and was blackmailing Barker. You can't prove anything what that kid says. Who'd believe him? I would, Barker. And besides, now I've got your gun. A ballistics test will prove it's the same gun you used to kill your buddy Flaxner last night. You played your last Halloween trick, Mr. Barker. Now the state's going to furnish the tree. That was The Ghost with the Gun by Anthony Boucher. And this is T4Y closing the doors to the mystery playhouse and saying good night, sleep tight. Good night. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service.
