And now the Mole Mystery Theater, presented by M-O-L-L-E. Mole, the heavier brushless shaving cream for heavy beards. Good evening. This is Jeffrey Barnes, welcoming you to the program that presents the best in mystery and detective fiction. Tonight's story is entitled, Last Night, and was written by the very popular William Irish. I particularly like this story because of the people in it. They're very ordinary, real life people. Not gangsters, nor tough detectives, nor mad, homicidal scientists. But average people like you or me, or your next door neighbor. In short, they are the kind of people you never expect to find involved in a murder. Before you begin your story, Mr. Barnes, here's another true to life story for men. If you have wiry, hard to cut whiskers, or a tender skin, and you find that shaving is really tough, then shave with Mole, the heavier brushless shaving cream. Yes, sir, man. It's smooth. So smooth. It's slick. So slick. It's a smooth, smooth, slick, slick shave you get with M-O-L-L-E. Mole, the heavier brushless cream for tender skins. That's right. Mole is a heavier cream, the kind of cream you need for wiry, hard to cut whiskers or a tender skin. Because Mole is heavier, it softens your whiskers, stands them up straighter, and makes them easy to cut. So you shave faster, closer, easier, and you shave painlessly with Mole. The heavier brushless cream for tender skins. Mole. And now for the Mole Mystery Theater presentation of Last Night. ["Last Night"] It's funny. The way I used to think things just couldn't get any worse. I'd wake up and say to myself, it's morning again, and I'm awake again, and Gil and I are still broke. We owe $2,500 and we'll probably lose the summer resort if something doesn't happen soon. Then one morning, it did. All the worries I took to bed with me the night before dissolved into nothing. And that bigger thought began beating against my brain. Gil's a murderer. My husband's killed a man. When I woke up, I could tell the sun was somewhere overhead. The weekend was over and Gil hadn't wrangled the money out of Mr. Burroughs. I remember yawning. A long, comfortable cat yawn. And thinking, there must be something better we can do besides operating a health resort at a loss. Buttering up rich old crabs to borrow money to keep it going. Good morning, guy. You're up early. Not very. I didn't get to bed at all. Oh, and that means... Never mind, honey. Never mind what? So Burroughs wouldn't lend us the $2,500. We'll get it somehow. Maybe there's another way besides borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. What are you talking about? I got it out of him. Gil, all this? $2,500? Well, you certainly don't act very happy about it. I could have sworn you didn't get... Let's get down to breakfast. I'm hungry. But Gil, not the whole $2,500. That's what I said. In cash? You mean that he carries that much around? He was going to deposit it Monday morning. Now, look, why the questions? We've got the dough now. Forget it. Is he still here? No, he left. On the 8 o'clock train? Had you drive him down? Jackie, for Pete's sake. No. Not the 8. He took the milk train. How do you know? I left him at the station. Oh, with the secretary, with Marsh? No, no. By himself. Gil. Gil, what aren't you telling me? Did you have words over that loan? What put that in your head? Well, if there wasn't any friction, why did he pick up and leave at that ungodly hour alone? Oh, who knows? Anyway, it's over. Forget it. I'm going downstairs. I got dressed quickly, but I had trouble because my hands seemed to be all fumbly. They were shaking. I was afraid and I didn't know why. I had a vague, uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Maybe it was the look in Gil's eyes. I finished and hurried downstairs. What do you mean, do I want the money? Do you think I got nothing else to do but drive out here? He was here again. The man we owed the 2,500 to. Earlier that morning, I'd have felt a little sick hearing his voice, but now I was glad. Gil could give him the money and we'd be rid of him. How long does this keep up? You giving me the runaround? I don't like it. I don't like it either, but I tell you, I haven't got it this minute. What do you want me to do? Take it out of my blood? You're going to get it. I've been mighty patient with you and this is the last time I'm coming out here like this on a fool's errand. I'm not kidding either. Next time you'll see, I mean business. Gil? Gil, what are you... What are you doing there? Spying on me? Gil, look at me. Why didn't you give him the money? You have it. I need a drink. You afraid to let anyone know you have it? All right, I'm afraid. You've got to tell me. Look, I've got to know. Did you do anything to Mr. Burroughs last night? Did you do anything to... All right, Jackie, Jackie, now pull yourself together. You're the only thing they've given me. You're the one thing that I want to keep. Did you do anything to him last night? Yes, I did do something. Gil! Not what you think. It's bad enough, though I'm worried. Now stick with me, Jackie. What was it? I'll get it. Hello? Yes. Oh, Mrs. Burroughs. Yes, your husband did leave this morning. His train should have arrived at Grand Central about 8.30. Well, maybe he went directly to his office. Oh. Oh, I see. Well, I'm sure you'll hear from him. Let us know, will you? Thank you. Yes. Goodbye. Gil, Burroughs never got home. Gil, do you hear me? Yes, yes, I hear you. How do you know as old ladies tell him the truth? Now, come on, let's go on into breakfast. Gil! My neck and shoulders seemed bound as if in a plaster cast. I felt rigid and my head was splitting. But I followed him into the dining room. We had one other paying guest, our regular, as Leonar made call her. Irene Grobles was a tall and swaying redheaded of Orphe. She and old Burroughs had been distinctly formal with each other, but there was an undercurrent of fright, even in her flippancy every time they were together. I had the feeling that they'd known each other before. Good morning, good morning, good morning. I was beginning to think everybody died in their sleep. Where is everybody? Where's the mummy today? Out getting new bandages? He's gone. Oh, well, can't say I'll miss him. Somebody ought to murder that guy. Too bad he didn't leave that divine-looking secretary of his, though. I've always made it a point to dislike male secretaries, but in Mr. Marsh's case, I'd make an exception. Thanks, Mrs. Grobles. Good morning, everybody. Good morning. Come now, Mr. Marsh, do you call that nice being a peeping tom? Just the same, I'm so glad you didn't leave, too. What's this about leaving? Hasn't... didn't he tell you he was going? Who? Burroughs. Mr. Burroughs, didn't he tell you that he was leaving? You're joking. No, I'm not. Gil? Why, he couldn't have left. He didn't say anything to me. He took the milk train, about five. Well, did he leave any word for me? I suppose you're to follow. My, how mysterious. I stopped in his room on the way down, thinking he was already out. Mrs. Blaine, doesn't it seem odd to you that he didn't take his clothes? Not take his... I still have both his tickets. I can't imagine... He must have forgotten them in his hurry. Maybe he received bad news of some sort. Maybe his wife is ill. If you'll excuse me, I'll put in a call there. Don't do that. I beg your pardon, Mr. Blaine. I said don't call his home. Well, why not? Mrs. Burroughs phoned here a little while ago. He... He hasn't arrived home yet. Hasn't arrived home yet? Who drove him to the station? I did. Why? No, then he did get the train. Or did he? What do you mean, or did he? What are you insinuating? If you've got something to say, say it. Gil! Gil, please! My goodness. Take it easy, Blaine. All I meant was that you see him get on the train. Nothing to get hot under the collar about. Get on the... Oh, sure, sure I did. I saw him get on myself. I saw him leave. Something was wrong with the room. It started to spin around and around. All because I remembered Gil telling me that he had left Burroughs at the station. Left him. Gil was lying. Why? The sick fear in my heart told me that something had happened to the old man. And my husband knew what that something was. As the curtain falls on Act One of tonight's story, Gil's strange behavior has convinced his wife that he's in more trouble than he'll admit. Of course, Gil may have good reason for his silence. There are times, you know, when a man would rather do anything than face his wife's questions. Yes, Mr. Barnes, that's true. There are some things even the bravest men hate to face. For instance, many a man would rather twist a tiger's tail than face the torture of a morning shave. Well, almost. That's because they have wiry, hard-to-cut whiskers or a tender skin, and shaving is really painful. And yet it needn't be. Not if they shave with Mole, the heavier brushless shaving cream for tender skins. That's right, men. Mole is a heavier cream. The cream that softens your whiskers, holds them up better and lets your razor breeze right through them. With Mole, you shave faster, closer, easier, and you shave painlessly. Try it and see if you don't say, It's smooth. So smooth. It's slick. So slick. It's a smooth, smooth, slick, slick shave you get with M-O-L-L-E. Mole, the heavier brushless cream for tender skins. Mole. And now back to Act Two of the Mystery Theatre presentation of Last Night. From the minute he drove up to the house, I knew he was a detective. He had that sharp-eyed look about him. Then Leona mistook him for just another bill collector. The novelty of those had worn off a long time ago. Sit down, Mr. Ward. My husband's gone to the village. Yes, I know that. Now let's not waste precious time, Mrs. Blaine. Mr. Homer Burroughs was a guest here from Friday until sometime late Sunday night or early this morning. That's right. When did you see him last? My husband drove him to the station. That isn't what I asked you, Mrs. Blaine. About one o'clock this morning. And one a.m. was the last time you saw him alive. Mr. Ward, I don't like the way you say that. You've got no grounds in coming here and... But surely you'll admit to the strangeness of the situation. Isn't it unusual for a man of 64 to leave alone in the dead of night like that and never to have arrived? Well, we're not accountable for his eccentricities. Now, he left here, I assure you. Well, look under the carpet if you're not sure. Oh, I don't doubt he left the house. Well, then what more have we got to do with it? Instead of snooping around up here, why don't you just check at the other end? He never reached the city. How do you know? Just because nobody's seen it? He could have been run over by a taxi or overcome by amnesia. But to get to the city, he would have had to take the train. Well, he did take the train. My husband... Mrs. Blaine, no one at all boarded the 420 train last night at your particular station. The rest of the day was a nightmare. He questioned everyone in the house, all five of us, time and again. When I dragged myself to bed early that evening, about eight, I pulled the covers up over my head. And I wondered how it would feel to go to sleep and not wake up. My eyes flew open. I was suddenly awake in the dark. I had no idea how late it was or when I had fallen asleep. And the sound or motion awoke me, just a gathering tension in the air. As that boat upright fumbled with the light. Don't touch that light. Leave it alone. Gil. Gil, what is it? Gil! Get back. Get away from this window. I don't want them to see me here. Who? Gil, who is it? Who's trying to open those garage doors? Why are they trying... It's that smart cop Ward, I think. If he gets them open and he goes... Gil! The gun! Oh, Gil, no! Get back, I tell you. Get out of the way. If he works those doors open, I'm going to shoot to kill. What does he want with our car? I don't understand. I think he's worked the lock. If he opens those doors, I'll kill him. Kill him? Why? No! No, I'm not going to let you, Gil. I won't let you murder him. I don't care what it is. Get your hands off my arm, Jackie. Leave me alone. I know what I'm doing. I know what you're trying to do and I'm going to stop you. I'm warning you, Gil. I'm going to put on the lights. Shh, shh, shh. Just another few seconds. I'm warning you, Gil. Ay, you little fool. You're frightening him away. Gil, who was... Was it Ward? I don't know. I'm not sure. Did he come in the house? I guess so. He disappeared around back. Gil, what's the matter with you? You're the color of gray paste and I don't understand it. I don't understand it at all. What did he want in the garage and why do you want to keep him? He'll make another stab at it tomorrow night and the night after. I can't stand it anymore. I'm getting out of here now. Why, Gil? Don't you see that you'll be convicting yourself? I've got to run. I have no choice. Haven't you? You think I killed him, don't you? I... Don't deny it. You know, I had a row with him about the money. You know, I drove him alone to the station in the dead of night. I let him out there. He's never been seen alive since. You told Marsh that you saw him get on the train. All right, all right. So I was lying. It's a perfect circumstantial case without a chink in it. It's hanging by a thread over me. But you're snapping even that thread by running away. Yes, yes. Here's another piece of circumstantial evidence. You know, that $25 check Burroughs asked me to cash? Yes. Well, I added two zeros and then the word hundred to the face of the check. It was easy. The bank was open this morning. And we were in $2,500. Oh. That's why you couldn't pay the collector the money. Yes, yes, it was hot. It was plenty hot because Burroughs was missing and I was scared. All right. All right, darling. One more thing, and don't lie to me this time. Gill, I want the truth. I'm your wife and I've got to know. Is that all you've done? That's all. I didn't kill him. I swear I didn't. But I can't prove it. Gill, if you were guilty, I'd go away with you. I'd run away with you. But you've done nothing. Now I'm not going and I'm not going to let you go. I didn't ask you to come with me, did I? Gill, if you leave here, you leave me too. For good. I love you, Jackie. But I like my neck too. Gill, don't go. It's been a long time together, baby. Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye? Gill. All right. No. Okay, then. I'll have to do without it. Thanks for the memory. Gill! I don't know what I put on. All I know is the tears in my eyes made the colors swim in front of me. I had to catch Gill and make him come back. Gill. Good evening, Mrs. Plain. I thought you went to bed. No, no, no, Mr. Ward, I couldn't sleep. Did I frighten you? It's all right. I thought it was... You thought it was who? Nothing. Never mind. It's all right, Mrs. Plain. I know your husband went out. He left a few minutes ago. Gill. Looked like he was heading for the tavern. I think maybe I'll join him. Good night, Mrs. Plain. My heart was beating wildly. If I hadn't turned out that bedroom light a little while ago, that detective might have been dead now. Why? What was it about the garage or about the car that was so important to all this? The car. Gill drove burrows to the station in it. I racked my brain to think of something unusual about the car. It was freshly painted two weeks ago. The brakes had been relined. The key to the rumble seat had been lost. The rumble seat. The rumble seat. It was simple. Now I knew where the body of Mr. Burrows must be. No wonder he had disappeared so completely. Someone had found the key. Someone had murdered Mr. Burrows at the station and put his body in... The key. Perhaps the murderer still had the key. Find the key and find the murderer. The house was empty now. Even Leona had left to do her weekend shopping. I must go back and search every room. Find that key. I prayed I wouldn't find it in Gill's room. I was no detective and I had to work fast. No telling when someone might return. The time wore on and still no key. I became more and more feverish. This was the last room. Only one more. Oh, what if Gill hadn't lost the key? What if he was lying again? I had to find it here in this last room. I'd been there only a few minutes opening drawers, emptying vases. Went from the bathroom. I heard the cascading of water. Someone was there taking a shower. I had to work even more quickly now. Mere seconds. The torrent of water muffled any sound I could make. There were pocket articles on the bureau. A wallet, cigarettes, matches, handkerchief. And then... The key lay there in full view. No deep hiding place. There out in the open. I grabbed the key and ran out of the room. And down the hall and into my own room. I leaned against the door and stared at the shining silver in my hand. This little key meant... Gill was in it. Gill! The murderer was in the next room. And I knew that if I used it to open the rumble... I'd find there the body of Mr. Burroughs. Hello. Hello, operator. Operator, get... You should have liked to have doubted Mrs. Blaine. Or weren't you expecting me? Mr. Marsh, I... Put the phone down, Mrs. Blaine. I said put the phone down, Mrs. Blaine. This is a gun. This is Jeffrey Barnes again. In just a moment we'll return you to the final act of last night. If you've been having trouble trying to combat dandruff... bear in mind that most ordinary hair preparations merely remove loose dandruff. Now plain water does that. So if you want to fight a common type of dandruff effectively... the thing to do is use double dandrine. Double dandrine is a scientific product that goes to work on your scalp... and actually combats this dandruff by killing the germs... that many outstanding authorities contend are a cause. And it kills them on contact. Now the reason why double dandrine is so amazingly effective... is that it contains an active antiseptic called alzheimer. This is a special ingredient used by many hospitals... because of its remarkable efficiency. And no other hair preparation contains alzheimer. You get it only in double dandrine. So try double dandrine and see why most ordinary hair preparations... can't compare with its dandruff-combatting effectiveness. If you're not completely satisfied... return the empty bottle and get your money back. Try double dandrine at your drugists. Mr. Marsh, what are you going to do? First we'll lock the door. Now, suppose you give me that key back. It doesn't belong to you. No, it has since last night when I murdered Burroughs. I didn't know what to do with the body. Then your husband made it very convenient. Gil? Yes, Gil. He not only left the car across the street from the station... when he went to the tavern for a drink... but he was nice enough to leave the key for me. It was easy. I shoved the old guy in the rumble, locked it and left with the key. Now, hand it over. But how did Gil... hand it over? Thanks. How did he know where Burroughs was? The same way you did. The key was missing, the body was missing. He added them up like numbers. Got the same answer you did. Please, Miss Blaine, I don't like hysterical women. What are you going to do? Don't raise your voice, someone might hear you. This is going to look like an accident. Why did you do it? Now that Burroughs is dead, his widow will inherit everything. And I can wrap her around my little finger. There's a second marriage in the cards for her. I played a long shot and it can still come through. You're not going to spoil it now. What are you going to do? You want to know too much, Mrs. Blaine. If you hadn't been so curious in the first place... there'd be no need for all this. What are you going to do? I'll show you. Take your hand off me. Get in there. Get into the bathroom. Leave me alone. You're just making things harder. Come on. Please, I won't do anything. You can take the key. Please, I won't tell anyone. Just leave me alone. Jackie. Darling, are you there? Listen to me, you. I've got a gun sticking into your ribs. Don't make me nervous. Be careful what you say. Jackie, don't lock me out. I've got to talk to you. I've heard what I'm saying about before. Now go ahead and watch your tongue... or you'll never talk again. What? What do you want? I want to see you. Oh, please, baby, I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to jump at you like I did. Go away. Honey. I said go away. You and your lying and your double dealing. I'm through, Gil. I never want to see you again. Now just go away. Jackie, Jackie, let's talk this thing out. There's nothing to talk about. Come on, come on. Get rid of him. My fingers are getting itchy. Honey. Gil, listen to me. Easy, lady, easy. Watch your words. Listen to me. We're through for good. I told you tonight you can go car and somebody else will show it from now on. Maybe that little blonde you told me about. That one from Hartford. Go ahead. Go to her. I don't want you. All right. That's the way you feel about it. Oh, Gil. Oh, Gil. That was being sensible. Now into the bathroom. You don't touch me. You keep away from me. Now two doors now closing us away from the rest of the house. Oh, no. Now I'll just turn on the shower. If you screamed, I'll think maybe you're singing. Gil. That's it. Sing pretty. It's your swan song. Please, I promise I won't tell anybody. It's just like an accident. You were taking a bath and you slipped and you hit your head and it knocked you out. No. But unfortunately the water was still on and it got higher. Keep away from me. And higher. Please. It's just like that. It happens to people every day. Don't run away, Mrs. Blaine. How far can you run in a room this size? They'll find you in your own bath dead. Take care of that blow on the head now. All right, boys, hold it. You're through for good. Jackie, darling, you all right? Oh, Gil. Oh, Gil. Hold your hands up high. Take his gun, Gil. I've got it. He was going to drown me. Oh, Gil. Oh, he was. Well, drop your hands, Marsh. Let's see what else you can do with him. You're pretty smart, Blaine. Not as smart as you thought you were. You got two strikes against you, Mr. Marsh. First, you tried to pin a murder rap on me, Wee Fawn Burroughs' body in the rumble. Second, you tried to kill my wife. I'm sensitive about that. She's the only one I've got. Nice job. Thank you. By the way, Gil, if you hand over that 2,500, I'll take care of it. No one will beat a wiser. Thanks. You're pretty regular. There's one more thing. How did you know Jackie was in trouble? Oh, that was easy. She told me to go back to my blonde in Hartford. There never was a blonde. She knew that. That's right. It was a brunette. From the Kipsey. This is Dan Seymour saying good night until next week when the Mystery Theatre presents code number two. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.
