Good evening, creeps. This is PFCX, raising the curtain of the mystery playhouse. Tonight's play was written by A. Merritt and is entitled, Burn Witch, Burn. Creeps, this is a story that borders on the supernatural. It is about a doctor, a man of science, who finds himself in conflict with a strange evil force that defies all science. A doctor who doesn't believe that some things he hears are possible until he sees them with his own eyes. Listen now to Burn Witch, Burn. My name is Dr. Lowell. The laws of science have always been the horizon of my understanding. That is, until recently. I'm confused, bewildered. I've seen things which could hardly occur according to scientific explanation. Awful, gruesome things. Things which belong in the dark ages. It all began on that day when that notorious gangster, Julian Recori, brought one of his gunmen into my hospital. The man died horribly. Most horribly. I stood there studying the terra-frozen face of the dead man. I was baffled, but I couldn't accept the explanation of Recori who kept mumbling. La Strega, La Strega. What's that you're saying, Recori? La Strega the witch. That's who killed Peters. Look here now. You've upset my hospital staff badly enough bringing that man in here without any regard for the proper procedure. It was an emergency, Dr. Lowell. Nevertheless, now you have the audacity to suggest some ridiculous superstition as the cause of his death, which indeed. Then you tell me what killed him, doctor. When the autopsy report comes in, we'll know. You'll know nothing. Look at Peters death. Look at the face. You have seen men die before lots of them. Well? Did you ever see a man look as he did before he died? You saw the eyes staring up at you, through you, beyond you, a world of fear and terror. You want me to believe he was killed by black magic? By a witch? I don't care what you believe. It's true. Mr. Recori, I have other patients. Doctors, you're blind fools. Oh, you mean Dr. Burrell? Goodbye, Mr. Recori. You can make arrangements with the nurse outside for the removal of your friend's body. Doctors, fools! Hey, he's mad. Yes. How's nurse Walters? I gave you the facetitive. This man's death was certainly a harrowing experience. No question about it. I myself never experienced anything like it. The horror of his expression. The convulsions was as if the whole trouble was in the man's mind, not the body. Stop it before you begin to sound like Recori, who believes a witch killed him. A witch? Did you ever hear of anything so absurd? My impression suggested something in the nature of murder. Murder? Yeah, well, not in the ordinary sense of the word. It seems as if there was a will determined to kill his body. Well, then you mean something else. I've seen a few die in my time because they lost the will to live. No, no, I meant there was another will. Another will? Yes. A will stronger than Peter's gripped his, stifled it. Then in complete possession, willed his death. Dr. Breyer. I know it sounds far-fetched. Edith. Nurse Walters, you were told to lie down. I can't lie down. I'm not lying down. I'm not lying down. Nurse Walters, you were told to lie down. I couldn't. Oh, Bob. What is it, dear? I'm afraid. Of what? I don't know. I can't explain it. That man lying there, Peter's. Dr. Lowell speaking. Very well, I'll be there at once. That was the serology lab. They found something odd in Peter's blood. I'll be there if I need it. Darling. Bob. Why, you're still trembling. Let's get out of here. No. Stop looking at him, dear. He was just a thug, a gunman. You're mistaken. You didn't know him. It's something to do with that doll woman. Doll woman? That's where I saw him. Or rather, a doll that looked like him. Edith, you're completely unnerved. Please let me take you to your room. Bob, will you do something for me? Of course, dear. Take me away from here. Where to? Anywhere. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow we'll go away. Far away. We were going to get married in June. We'll get married sooner. At once. Edith, you... Oh, don't look at me that way. I'm not mad. I'm just frightened. Of what? I... I don't know exactly. It all has to do with... Edith. Edith, what is it? Edith, what are you staring at? Bob, I... Edith. Bob, I... Bob, I... Bob, I... Bob, I... Bob, I... Bob, I... Bob, I... Bob, I... Edith. We've got to save her, Dr. Goh. We're fighting what killed Peters. Obviously, she's contracted the disease. Edith, Edith. She's in Cormorant. She can't hear you. Whatever it is, she's fighting it. Yes, I know. We can't just stand here and watch her die. What can we do? Nothing helped Peters. What did you find in his blood? Why did they call you to the lab? Nothing that will help us hear. What was it? A strange incandescence in certain blood corpuscles. No doubt, Rekori would call it witch fire. Dr. Lowe, look. Her eyes. She's opening and closing them. Maybe she's trying to say something. Two, three, four times. Now six, seven, eight, nine. She stopped. There, once again. She stopped. Her pulse is weakening. Edith, Edith, my dearest. Fight. Edith. Edith. I'm sorry, my boy. She's gone. I know what Nurse Walter's meant to you, Barber. After all, it's been several weeks now and your work has been... I'm going to find out what killed her. If necessary, I'll devote my life to it. It's obviously some new disease. Maybe some obscure tropical disease. I don't believe that, Dr. Lowe. Even in the face of facts? What facts? You saw the answers I received from the letters I sent out to the doctors of the city? There have been nine other cases, all fatal. But the autopsy showed no reason in the world why both Peters and Edith shouldn't be alive this minute. Have you a theory, Doctor? Yes. I think it was murder. I said it before about Peters. Now I'm more than ever convinced of it. Of course you realize murder usually has a motive. Here's a list of the other victims. A banker, an acrobat, an 11-year-old child, a spinster, a man who... I know all that. What could these people have in common to supply a motive? A love for children. Come now. One was even a child. Even the banker supported a large orphan asylum. Edith adored her niece. And Peters, a gunman? A daughter. And it all proves a common interest. In what? In children. And children love dolls. Edith mentioned something about a doll woman. I've racked my brain for days. It's the only clue I can find. But what doll woman? Where? You were convinced that Edith tried to signal you with her eyes before she died, weren't you? Yes, she blinked her eyes four times, and nine times, and again once. In terms of the alphabet, D is the fourth letter. I the ninth, A the first. D-I-A. Is it the beginning of a name, an address? What? Well, does Diana suggest anything? No, no, no, not Diana. Or it could mean diary. Diary. Diary, of course. What a fool I've been. Why didn't I ask you sooner? Hey, hey, where are you going? To Edith's apartment, to find a diary and get to the bottom of this unholy business. Bob. I'll be back later. I tell you, you're barking up the wrong tree. Forget your wild ideas about murder and possessed wills. A microscope and test tube will give you the solution. Not this time, Dr. Lowell. Dr. Lowell speaking. What's that? Rikori's been stabbed. Very well, I'll be right down. The gang chief, Rikori, was stabbed just below the heart by a long, thin instrument. Dr. Lowell questioned Rikori's bodyguard, McCann. The man was frightened. He told a story of taking Rikori to a strange doll shop run by a grotesque old woman. Rikori came out of the shop carrying something under his coat. He got back into the car, McCann said, and then... All of a sudden I hear him suck in his breath. I feel his body tighten up and then he sags loose all over. Only you and Paul the driver were with him in the car. That's right, Doc. And neither of you stabbed him. No. That means he must have stabbed himself. Is that what you want me to believe? I don't know. I'm all mixed up, Doc. I can't make it out. Where's Paul the driver? When a boss slumps over, I yell to Paul. As soon as he stops the car, the door flies open and something falls out into the street. What? The boss was carrying under his coat when he came out of his doll shop. It was dark. I couldn't see what it was. Paul jumped out after it. I grabbed the wheel and raced here. It's a pretty thin story, McCann. Doc, I wouldn't hurt the boss. You gotta believe that. I wouldn't hurt him, Doc. Oh, I... Mac! Mac, I got it. Paul. Paul, the boss ain't croaked. He might pull through. Doc, this is Paul, the driver. Hiya. I got it. Here. This is what the boss had under his coat. It's a doll. Let me see that. Look at the face. Holy mother. Isn't that the face of the Peters? The spitting image of Peters. And what's this running down the back of its collar? Looks like a big hat pin. No, no, no. It's a sword. A tiny sword. And there's blood on it. Recori's blood. Holy mother in heaven. Dr. Braille, I'm glad you're here. What's happened? Julian Recori was stabbed. I know. I just spoke with him. He said he was stabbed by a doll. Nonsense. He was stabbed by this tiny sword, yes, but... How could the doll stab him? What's this? The doll. If you look closely at the face, you'll see it's the face of Peters. That's what Edith meant when she said she saw Peters before. She saw this doll. She saw the dollmaker when she went there. I found it all in her diary, Dr. Lowe. I cannot believe this doll stabbed Recori. Your explanation, then. Well, I'm beginning to believe that maybe this doll woman is involved, but everything can be explained scientifically. I don't know. Post hypnotic suggestion, perhaps. This doll woman might have hypnotized Recori to stab himself, but suggested he should think he was attacked by the doll. Completely unsound, Dr. Lowe. Experimentation has proven over and over again that no subject under hypnosis will commit any extreme act that he wouldn't commit normally. I know. But perhaps this woman has developed hypnosis beyond anything yet to... Dr. Lowe, what is it? What's wrong? Dr. Lowe! Stop! Stop shaking me! Are you all right? Of course. Just... just felt a bit faint. You'd look as if you were in a trance. It's Lestrega. Like the boss says, Lestrega. I didn't tell Braille, but during that moment of faintness, I'd heard a voice, a beautiful, low, exotic voice, and it said, kill. Kill Recori. That night I set up with Recori to kill him. I was so afraid. I was so afraid. Recori. That night I set up with Recori who had fallen into coma. Doc, Paul and me will be right outside the door. If anything happens... No, no, no. Stay here. Okay, Doc. Now listen to me carefully, both of you. Obey me in every detail. Recori's life depends on it. Okay, Doc, shoot. Now here's the important thing. Watch me closely. Watch you, Doc? Yes. If I should go to your chief, I'll do three things only. Take his pulse, listen to his heart and breathing, take his temperature. If you see me do anything else, stop me. If I resist, tie me up. Then phone Dr. Braille. Here's his number. There's everything understood. Yeah. Okay, Doc. Paul, I don't like it, but all right. Paul, will you switch off the ceiling light? The bed light will be enough. Okay. So, what's the time? I don't know. I'm tired. Dr. Lowen? Dr. Lowen? Relax and release yourself to me. Yes, sleep. But through your sleep, the excitement, the exhilaration, there is with me. Dr. Lowen, there, on the bed, that man, he's ugly, vicious. Destroy him, Dr. Lowen. Kill him. Go to the table, doctor. Take out one of your sharp instruments and plunge into his throat just under the ear. Go now, there, there, there, now. Quiet, I'm calling Paul. Let me go. Slut, Mac. Never. What is it? It's okay now, Doc. What happened? Plenty. You're about to take Rikori's temperature with a knife. That settles it. I couldn't argue anymore. Hypnosis, telepathy, call it what you will. I believed in the witch now. And I knew that eventually I would destroy her or she would destroy me. Before leaving Rikori's room because of some inexplicable compulsion, I took Rikori's gun. Later, as I was preparing for bed, Dr. Braille came in. Impulsively and again as if compelled, I hid the gun in the drawer of my night table. I heard what happened, Dr. Lowen. We should notify the police. The police would laugh at us. We have a solitary shred of evidence that this, this dull woman is behind this thing. You're right, of course. Tell me, how's Rikori? His recovery is amazing. He's even walking about. I'm staying just outside your door. I've rigged myself up a cot. Why? I don't know. But after what's happened... I see. Would you turn out the light, please? Thank you. Good night. Good night. Remember, if you hear anything, call me. Dr. Lowen. Hello. Dr. Lowen. Hello. The gun. The gun. Reach out. Take it in your hand. No. No. If you will listen to me and obey me, acceleration and power will come to you. Excitement, doctor. Raise the gun to your head, doctor. That's it. Now, kill. Kill. I was doing as she directed. Kill. The gun was in my hand. Then slowly, ever so slowly, my hand moved it up toward my temple. Inwardly, I fought to regain my will, but still my hand moved up, up, up. And always that accursed voice. Kill. Now the gun was at my head, my fingers slowly tightening on the trigger. I fought to stop it, fought to cry out. And then with one supreme effort, I screamed and directed the gun away. Dr. Law, are you all right? Preyo. Preyo. Oh, good Lord. I've shot him. Cory, are you sure you feel up to this? You want to destroy the witch, don't you? Well, we can't waste another minute. It's either she dies or we die. I don't want to die that way. How's Dr. Braille? Better. He'll recover. Good. When we get there, Rikori, you, McCann, and myself will go in. Have your other men in the other cars surround the place. Keep your gun handy, McCann. Right. Here we are, boys. McCann, go tell the boys to cover the place. Okay. Well, here we are. Can you...pick the lock, Rikori? Let me see. Yeah, this is easy. The joint's covered, boys. That does it. Quiet now. It's probably in the back room. Good evening, gentlemen. Laszka Eger. Come in, gentlemen. I've been expecting you. Move aside, boss. Let me... I'll do this job myself. You'd like to kill me, Rikori? Go on, boys. Shoot. Shoot. I can't. Rikori, for heaven's sake, don't look in her eyes. McCann, shoot, shoot. Drop your weapons. First you, Rikori. Now you, McCann. So, you see, Dr. Lover, I'm only a steamy old woman. Very old, ages old. And with all the dark wisdom of the ages, though. Don't try it once. You can't, because I've ruled it so. Pick up the gun, Dr. Lover. That's right. Now. You will kill these men. What are you mumbling? Galya est omnis duis, impates tres. What is it? What are you saying? All Gaul is divided into three parts. A trite jingle from schoolboy Latin, I kept saying it over and over. Galya est omnis duis, impates tres. As long as I said it, I knew I could keep my mind a-blank. And she could not hypnotise me. Galya est omnis duis, impates tres. I turned the gun on her. It was her life or the lives of all of us. Galya est omnis duis. Dr. Lover, you're pointing the gun at me. You're to kill this conspiring of yours. You cannot kill me. You're powerless, powerless. Galya est omnis duis, impates tres. As Treygo was dead, when falling she had broken the lamp. In a moment the place was in flames. I turned to Rekori. Rekori, Rekori, snap out of it. What is it? Maken, Maken. My gun, what happened to it? Look, the witch on the floor. She's dead. The joint's burning, let's get out of here. Doc, Doc, come on. Shouldn't we take her out of here? No, let her burn through, it's better. Let it all burn. This way, come on. Burn, witch, burn. And that creep swings down the curtain of the mystery playhouse for the night. Burn, witch, burn was adapted for radio by Joel Hamill. The music was composed and conducted by Alexander Semmer. Arnold Mott was featured in tonight's play. We'll creep until next time, this is PFCX reminding you to sleep tight. Good night. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service. Thank you.
