Good evening, Creed. Welcome to the mystery playhouse. Miss Bradford, I'm back. Miss Bradford. Miss Bradford, are you asleep? You have to be at the radio studio at 7.30, you know. Miss Bradford. I hate to wake you up. So, Creeps, you have just heard the first scene of tonight's story, entitled Challenge to the Listener, written by Hugh Pentecost and featuring two of your favorite radio stars, Richard Widmark and Everett Sloan. In it you will meet two men, one the killer, the other a detective assigned to track him down. Now, the author Hugh Pentecost has deliberately avoided identifying the two men, and all the facts are given. Nothing is concealed. So let's see if you can spot the killer and successfully meet the challenge to the listener. Our story begins in the lobby of a summer hotel in the mountains just a short distance from New York. The desk clerk and another man are listening to the radio. And now here is the latest word on the Nancy Bradford murder. A question in his office late yesterday. Police Commissioner Henley had nothing neutral. Hey, why'd you turn off the radio, Burt? Because you're going to drive yourself nuts, Pop. You've got this Nancy Bradford case on the brain. Oh my gosh, I think you'd be interested in murder. You a cop and all. Look, I'm not a cop. I'm just a house dick, and you're not a cop either. You're just a desk clerk. Now leave them matters for the police. But, Burt, I have a hund... Excuse me, please. Oh. Yes, sir? Any mail for me? Name's Hartman, Terry Hartman. Let me see. H... H... No, sir. Oh. Well, thank you. A paper's just come in at 11 o'clock this morning, Mr. Hartman. Complete story on the Bradford murder. Want a paper? Well, I, uh... Special supplement. Complete story. All right, I'll take one. Here. Here you are, sir. Thank you. Now, what was I saying, Burt? Oh, yeah, yeah. I got a hunch the killer's up in the mountains around here. At least the cops think he is. Yeah? Why? Well, I heard that we got a plain clothes man staying right here in this hotel. Who told you that? Just heard, that's all. One of the maids told me she saw a revolver in one of the rooms. Good night. That don't prove nothing. Proves plenty to me. Look here. In the paper it says that the killer left two pine needles at the scene of the crime. We got plenty pine trees around here. Good morning. Morning. It's nearly 12.30. I must have slept late. Compliment to your beds here. Any mail for me? Doyle. Doyle? No, no, Mr. Doyle. Oh, thanks. By the way, what does the paper say about the weather today? I was thinking of getting in a little fishing this afternoon. The paper says clear and sunny. But my rumour tells me it's going to rain. I'll take a chance after lunch anyway. Burt, he's a plain clothes man. Eh? Now, don't tell me he ain't taking you into his confidence. You a cop too? I'm not a cop. Pop, you must have been hitting that room with his medicine pretty hard this morning. I've never seen you so worked up. Well, I have a feeling there's going to be plenty of excitement around this place. And I'm going to find out just what goes. Eh, okay, Pop. Listen, I'm going to tell you this because if I don't, you'll nose around until you mess things all up. There is a plain clothes detective here from New York. What? I told you! Oh, oh. And there is a possibility that the Nancy Bradford murderer is here. Holy mackerel. The detective took me into his confidence because he figured he might need my help. Now, will you keep this all to yourself? Murderer here? Well, what do you know? So does that Doyle fella? He's fat? The paper says... The paper says, and I quote, the doorman of Nancy Bradford's hotel described the killer as a tall, short, fair, dark, fat, thin man wearing a gray snap-brim hat, blue-tinted sunglasses, and a tweed top coat in July. In other words, the description of the killer given by the doorman is worthless. Well, I don't know... Check that out, man, fella. He's thin. And fat. No, no, no. Mr. Doyle, he's fat. Oh, Pop, forget the whole business. Well, the paper also says that the killer must have been crazy or something to be to the death the way he did. So long. Where you going, buddy? I'm going in to get my lunch. Oh, Mary, you got a table for me? Oh, it's just for that. Any place to see empty, Jim. I'll take your order in a minute. Waitress. Oh, waitress. That man wants you, Mary. Yeah, I see. Yes, sir. Are you ready to get dessert now? Oh, I never take dessert with my lunch. I'm too fat already. Oh, you look very good today. No, I just have coffee. Coffee? Okay, I'll get it right away. Now, wait. Yeah? Yeah. Do you know everybody here at the resort? Well, not everybody. Over at that table by the window, that man reading the newspaper. Oh, that thin man with the blond hair? Yeah, that's right. Do you know him? No, sir. You see, over the fort, we have quite a crowd. Okay, thanks. You can bring me my coffee now. Okay. Miss. Waitress. Yes, sir. I wonder whether you could help me out. Huh? I think I know that man sitting over there, but I can't remember his name. Oh, that's funny. What? What's funny? Oh, he just asked me about you. He what? He just asked about you. He said his name. Here, here's a dollar. Forget that I said anything. You get it? Yeah. Forget it. But, what's gotten into him? Oh, well, it takes all kinds to make a move. Yes. Yeah. What did he say to you? The man who was sitting there? Yes, yes. The one I asked you about a minute ago. Oh, yes. He's the same thing you're saying. Who I was? Yeah, that's right. Thanks. Thanks very much. Pretty gruesome business, the Bradford Cave. What? Oh, I'm sorry if I startled you. I noticed you were reading about the Nancy Bradford murder. Oh, no, no, no. I wasn't startled. I just didn't hear you coming. Cigarette? No, thanks. I stick to this old pipe. Easier on the nerves. Line? Thanks. Thank you. My name is Doyle. I noticed you in the hotel dining room at lunch. You just arrived? Yes. I thought I'd get away from New York over the holidays. I need the rest. I'm a radio writer. What, you mean, love that soap? No, no. I write dramatic shows. The agency handles the commercials. Radio? Oh, well, and perhaps you knew Nancy Bradford. I understand she did a lot of radio acting. That's why you were so interested in the newspaper account of the murder, huh? I never happened a meeting. Oh. I was going out on the lake to try to catch a few bass. I rented one of the rowboats. It's pretty sunny, but there's some shady spots along the shore. Care to join me? What'd you say your name was? I didn't say. But it's Hartman, Jerry Hartman. Well, what do you say, Hartman? Care to come along? Well, I, uh, no, I've always felt kind of strange about boats. I, uh, don't swim. Well, don't worry. I swim very well. What about it? We probably won't catch anything anyway. I just thought a little company. But, uh, you feel like being alone? No, no, I, uh, I think I'd like it. Good. The boat's tied up at the end of the dock there. All right, let's go. There it is. I've got cackling bait for two. If we get thirsty, I've got a thermos of iced tea. If you care for anything stronger, I'll have a, uh, got a pint. No thanks. I don't drink. What? And you were in the radio business? That's why I'm on my second ulcer now. Radio's occupational disease, huh? Well, step in, thanks. Set? Yeah. Okay, here I come. Now I reach over and unhook the chain. I'll roll, right? Well, there we go. Okay. When you get tired, I'll take over the oars. Oh, I'm not as fat as you think. A lot of it's muscle. You know, it seems impossible that he could have got away without leaving a clear trail. What? Who could have gotten away from what? The, uh, Bradford murderer. Oh. I've, uh, toyed with the idea that the man with the blue glasses wasn't the murderer at all. No. Now, look, suppose you were a friend of Nancy Bradford's, and you went upstairs and walked into that shambles. What would you do? My impulse would be to get away, not to be involved. Mm-mm. That couldn't have been the way it was. Why not? Well, he spoke to her on the house phone. It said so in the paper. The doorman heard him say, hello, darling, it's me, and he went right up. She must have been alive then, you see. Maybe the man in the glasses was bluffing. No, no, and even if he was bluffing, then he was involved anyway. Yeah, it must have been that guy, all right. Only the description of him isn't any use. He wouldn't wear those blue glasses again. You can bank on that. I guess you're right. And those pine needles. Yeah, what about them? Well, he must have come from someplace where he'd walked in pine needles. They stuck to his shoes and maybe to the bottom of his trousers. Plenty of pine trees around here. That's a pleasant idea. The Bradford murderer may have been around here all the time. I've been vacationing. That's quite possible. Why are you staring at me? You know, I was just thinking that it's odd that your hair is so bleached by the sun, and yet your face isn't the least bit sunburned. It isn't bleached. That's its natural color. Is that so? What were you saying about the murderer being near here? Oh, well, I didn't say he definitely was near here. I just said it's possible. Oh, sure, sure, it's possible. Anything is possible. Yeah. And then there's the brooch. What brooch? Nancy Bradford's brooch. It was found in a path in the woods here. Some local kid picked it up, turned it over to the cops. They found it here? That's right, a day or two after the murder. How do you know that? Well, I... Well, I don't know. I guess I read it somewhere. That's funny. I thought I'd read everything about the case, and I never saw anything about the brooch. Well, I must have read it somewhere. I wouldn't have any other way of knowing. No. No, I suppose not. You'd think if they found the brooch, the place would be swarming with detectives. Yeah. Well, maybe it is. They wouldn't necessarily come out in the open for fear of scaring off their men. Oh. I suppose they would handle it that way. Since they have no way of identifying the man, they'd just lie low and wait until he made a mistake. What kind of a mistake? I don't know. Probably they don't know either. They'd just wait and hope. You know, this fishing business is overrated. We've been here for 20 minutes already. You've got to be patient when you're fishing, Hartman. Say, you wouldn't kid me about being a radio writer, would you? Well, it's a secret, but I'm really a junior G-man. Oh. Say, Hartman, how would you go about solving the Bradford case if you were a detective? Well, the doorman's description wouldn't help much, but all you'd have to go on from a physical side is that the murderer's extremely strong. He'd have to be to do the beating job he did on that poor woman. Not necessarily. I believe it's a medical fact that people who are worked into a homicidal race are not going to be able to do anything about it. It's a medical fact that people who are worked into a homicidal rage show evidence of strength far beyond their normal capacity. Something to do with the adrenal glands. Really? I wouldn't know about that. Hey, looks like you had something. Yep, so it does. Grab that net and get him when I'm playing up close. Okay. Hey, he's putting up a little fight. Yeah, rock bass usually do. There, get him. Yeah, got him. Oh, I'd dump him on the floor of the boat. Hey, look at him, he's all over the place. I'll soon stop that. Hand me that stick. Here. Thanks. Okay. There, that did it. Now what's the matter, Hartman? Nothing, nothing, nothing. You're upset? The way I subdued the fish. I get it. You don't feel anything? Cold-blooded. Nice fish. We'll have them for dinner tonight. You were saying, Hartman, you'd expect to see some evidence of a cruel streak in the man you'd be looking for, if you were a detective. Did I say cruel streak? Sure you did, or maybe it was the papers. Anyway, don't you think you'd look for that? Yeah, yeah, I think you could expect that. Not a nice guy to find yourself alone with. No, not nice at all. Uh-oh. Looks like a storm coming up. See how dark it's getting? Yeah, I do. Hey, maybe we better think about getting back. Yeah, I guess so. Think we can make the hotel before it breaks? Well, we can try. Here, I'll take in the lines and get things organized. You pull up the anchor and I'll start rowing. Okay. We better hurry. I just felt a drop of rain. Pull my anchor up. I need to be caught on something. I can't budget. All right, let me take a whack at it. Now, let me have it. You've got to put your back into it. Look. There we are. Ah. See how easy it is if you've got a muscle or two? Yeah, I see. Well, we'd better hurry. It won't be long now. Okay. Ha, ha, ha, ha. What's so funny? Of course the murderer would be smarter than that. Smarter than what? To show his strength. Since that's what the police is looking for. Oh. Now, if I were the murderer, I'd have done what you did. Well, I did. Demonstrate how weak I was. Two weeks to lift an anchor. I see. I guess that would be the clever thing. Ha, ha. As a matter of fact, the anchor wasn't stuck very tight. I made it look tougher than it was. Why? Just a gag, Hartland. The idea amuses me. What idea? Oh, that we're both wondering a little bit about each other. Oh, we're in for a soaking, all right. Hey, do you ever wear tinted sunglasses, Hartland? Post-blond suffer from bright sunshine. Wrong pigmentation of the oil. I don't think this gag of yours is very funny. I wish you'd cut it out. Sorry. I hope you don't mind getting soaked. It's really starting to come down good. I've been wet for days. Scared, Hartland? No, I'm not scared. I just don't like thunderstorms. I never did. Must be a bit like what happened to the Bradford murderer. What do you mean? Oh, on a sunny day and then the wrath of God. Yeah, then the wrath of God. Why do you suppose he did it, Hartland? Nancy Bradford was a beautiful woman. Young, desirable. Some people can't stand treachery. What did you say? I said some people can't stand treachery. Treachery? That's the way some men would look at a turndown. Ah, maybe they would, Hartland. Ha, ha, ha. Oh, Mike, what's the joke now, Toil? Your hair. My hair, what about it? Oh, help me, Hartland. I thought the color had run. When it got wet, I thought it was dyed. Well, it's not. Yeah, I can see that now. I see a lot of things now. Just a few more yards, Hartland. Be safe in the hotel. Yeah, right behind you. Come on. Whew, pretty wet. What do you say to a brandy? No, no thanks. I never drink. You never drink. You said that. But after that soaking, you should have something for medicinal purposes. Ah, you see, you're catching cold. Well. I got a bottle of brandy. Good stuff in my room. Come on. Well, I'd better change my clothes first. You'll die of pneumonia before you do. Look, this is my room right here. Get a good slug of brandy in you first. It'll save you life. What do you say? I say OK. Fine. Step in. Thank you. There's the bottle on top of the dresser. Pour yourself a drink. I want to get the shower running in the bathroom. It takes forever to warm up. Be with me in a minute. Yeah, sure. These summer hotels are all the same. Never enough hot water. That's right. Take your time. Give me time to look around. I thought so. Get your hands up. Turn around, Hartman. I've got a gun. Now keep your hands up. That's right. Don't stop reaching. I had a feeling you'd die. I'm not going to let you die. I'm going to get you. I'm going to get you. I'm not going to stop reaching. I had a feeling you'd snoop if you had the chance. That's why I gave you the chance. Find anything interesting in the bureau drawer? So you're the Bradford murderer. It won't work, Hartman. It won't work. You can't get away with it by accusing me. I know you're the Bradford murderer. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! No Doyle, you're the killer, not me. I knew it when I saw the way you beat that fish with that stick, when I saw you pull up that anchor and when you kept probing and probing to find out who I was. I knew it the way you reacted to my telling you about the brooch. It won't work, Hartman. Only two people could have known about the brooch, it wasn't in the papers. The murderer or a cop. That's right, Hartman. All right, how do you explain these torn and mutilated pictures of Nancy Bradford in your bureau drawer? They came from Nancy Bradford's apartment. So you had to destroy even the symbols of Nancy Bradford. You must have hated her, Hartman. No, it was you who hated her. Even after you murdered her, you had to go on destroying everything that reminded you of it. You ought to know. You ought to know how the murderer felt. You even told me some men would think of a turndown as treachery. It was you, Doyle. You've been hanging around this place because you lost the brooch. You didn't know whether it had been found or not. No one knew for certain but the police. That's right. No one knew but the police. And it was you who wanted to know for sure if it had been found. You were trying to find out from me because you decided that I was a cop looking for you. No. Well, you were right. I was looking for you. I'll bet the pretense that you weren't strong enough to lift the anchor. You pretended squeamishness when I beat the fish with the club. It matched the description of the killer, Doyle, your action. Don't you understand? I did that on purpose just to see how you'd behave. You're a good actor, Hartman. You've been in the radio and theater business. You knew how easy it would be to fool the doorman at Nancy Bradford's apartment. Look, look, look. Why go on with this, Doyle? Drop your gun. You can't get away with it. Don't make a move, Hartman. Stay right where you are. Let's cut the kidding. Hartman, I warn you. You... Doyle. Well, Hartman, looks like I won. You're over, Mr. Doyle. You killed him. He's dead. Oh, Burke. Burke, come here. Look. There, on the floor. Is he dead? Yeah. His name was Hartman. He was the Bradford murderer. I'd been looking for him. Special assignment. Yeah, special assignment. Special assignment for murder, you crazy killer. No. What's the meaning of this? Why'd you hit him? Mr. Doyle's an officer. Officer. Hartman was the officer. The plainclothes detective I told you about. Doyle's the Bradford murderer. Well, Burke, did Doyle confess? Yeah, but the guy's up there in the room with him right now. Should have heard him boast about that game of wits him and Hartman played in that boat. Well, why'd he kill Nancy Bradford? He was her first husband. I heard the DA say it was a paranoid killer. That means crazy, huh? Yeah. She'd been hiding from him, changed her name, remarried. Then Doyle showed up. He'd been all right, wanted to see her, to apologize for all the trouble he'd caused her. And they're a ratchet. Yeah, you know the rest. Doyle's surrounded by cops and reporters, and Hartman is laying in Gormley's undertaking parlor. All by himself. Poor fella. Yeah. Pop, get out that bottle of yours. I need a drink. And that brings down the final curtain on Challenge to the Listener, starring Richard Widmark and Everett Sloan. Tonight's performance, in your mystery playhouse. Until next time, green, Susan Hunter Galloway, closing the doors of your mystery playhouse and reminding you to... sleep well. Good night. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio service, the most information and information. Thank you.
