The Columbia Network takes pleasure in bringing you suspense. Suspense, Columbia's play theater of outstanding thrillers, produced and directed by William Spear and scored by Bernard Herman. The notable melodramas from fiction and stage and screen, from the world's great literature of entertaining excitement, presented each week to bring you to the edge of your chair, to keep you in suspense. Tonight's adventure in suspense is from the pen of Dorothy Sayers. She called it the Cave of Alibaba. Like the tale told by Scheherazade, a distinguished ancestress in the storytelling art, Miss Sayers' thriller deals with forty thieves and with two magic words. For your uneasy listening then, suspense presents... The Cave of Alibaba. On a Saturday afternoon in January, in the grim and narrow house in Lambeth, a man sat eating kippers and reading the daily paper. He was smallish and spare, with brown hair rather too regularly waved and a strong brown pointed beard. His double-breasted navy blue suit, his socks, tie and handkerchief were all scrupulously matched, and his brown boots just a trifle too highly polished. He did not look a gentleman, not even a gentleman's gentleman, yet there was something about his appearance which suggested that he was accustomed to the manner of life in good families. A superior butler perhaps, yet not old enough to be retired. A footman who had come into a legacy, yes. He had just finished eating and he was sipping his coffee when a slight noise at the front door caught his ear. Swiftly, too swiftly for a quiet little man sitting eating kippers and reading his paper on a Saturday afternoon, he sprang up, he dashed through the small hallway and he flung the door open. Of course, no one in sight. The society is at least dramatic in its delivery of its correspondence. And as if he knew what he could find, he shut the door and turned to the hat stand in the hall. An envelope had been placed there. It was addressed to Joseph Rogers. So Mr. Rogers opened the note. Number 21, an extraordinary general meeting will be held tonight at the house of number one at 1130. You will be absent at your peril. The word is finality. Finality. Yes, I think so. The man called Joseph Rogers stood for a moment studying the note. Then he strode to the rear of the house to a tall safe built in the wall. Carefully, he manipulated a dial. He swung the safe door open. He stepped inside into a small strong room. He opened a drawer marked correspondence, placed the note inside and then came out again. A moment to reset the lock for a new combination. And then he went back into the living room. He reached for the telephone. He lifted it from the cradle and then reconsidered. Too dangerous. He hurried upstairs and clambered into an attic. In the furthest corner, he searched for and found a knothole in the woodwork. He pressed it. A concealed trap door swung open and he was on the loft of the adjoining house. He paused before three cages, in each of them a carrier pigeon. Carefully, he wrote a note. He stripped it under a pigeon's wing. There you are, my pretty. There, take it easy now. There you go. Fly straight. 4.30. I'll send another pigeon at five and the third at six. I'll answer by nine thirty at the latest. Oh, I forgot one thing, most important. Mr. Rogers moved through the trap door, back into the attic of his own house. And once again, he stood before the tall safe built in the wall. He opened the door, stepped into the strong room, moved for a moment quietly in the dark and then spoke gently. Now, be good, my sweetheart. I'm depending on you. Open sesame. Come on now, old thing. Open sesame. Open sesame. That's better. That's very much better. By nine thirty, his answer was back. All the little piece of paper said was a hasty OK. At a quarter before eleven, he took his revolver from a locked drawer, inspected it carefully. Yes, loaded it with cartridges from an unbroken packet and left the house. He walked quickly, keeping well away from the wall. And when he climbed on a bus, he sat next to the conductor where he could watch all who got on and off. By twenty five minutes after eleven, he was out on lonely Hampstead Heath, pausing in the shadow of a large tree to adjust a black velvet mask on which in white thread was stitched the number twenty one. Then he stepped briskly to the door of the villa that lay before him and. What is it? Finality. Come in. Go right on through. Number one will check you in. Right. Twenty one, sir. Lift your mask. Very well, twenty one. You may go on to the meeting room. Thank you, sir. The room of the villain, which was the Rogers now still was a large one, brilliantly lighted room as a gramophone in one corner, blaring out a jazz tune to its rhythm. Couples, masked men and women were dancing somewhere in evening dress, some in tweeds and jumpers in another corner of the room was the bar. Mr. Rogers went up to it and asked the masked man in charge for a double whiskey. Consumed it slowly, leaning on the bar. The room filled. Someone moved across to the gramophone and stopped it. Mr. Rogers looked around. Number one, the massive gentleman in evening dress who had checked him in appeared on the threshold. Someone in black stood beside him. Her mask, embroidered with a white number two, covered her hair and her face completely. Only her, her fine bearing, her white arms and her dark eyes shining through the eyes, it's proclaimed there is a woman of power, a physical attraction. The masked dancers were silent now as number one spoke. Ladies and gentlemen, we are short two members tonight. I need not inform you of the disastrous failure of our plan for obtaining the plans of the court Wendell Sam Helicopter. Our courageous and devoted friends, number 15 and number 38, were betrayed and taken by the police. Some of you might fear that under examination these two would break down and give away our society. There is no need for such a fear. I gave the usual orders and their tongues have been silenced. Their dependence will be discreetly compensated in the usual manner. I call upon number 12 and 34 to undertake this agreeable task. They retained me at my office for the instructions after the meeting. Will the numbers I have named kindly signify by raising their hands that I are able and willing to perform this duty? Thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, please take your partners for the next dance. The gramophone struck up again. Mr. Rogers turned to a girl near him in a red dress. She nodded and they slipped into the movement of a foxtrot. The couple's gyrated solemnly and in silence. Their shadows were flung against the blinds as they turned and stepped to and fro. The girl in red spoke to Mr. Rogers. What's happened? I'm frightened, aren't you? I feel as if something awful was about to happen. It does take one a bit short. Number one's way of doing things, but it's safer like that. Oh, those poor men. No talking, please. You know the rules. Sorry. In silence, the dance continued. And then it came to an end. And then when it had finished, the dancers came again to where number one sat and waited with tense eagerness for him to speak. Ladies and gentlemen, you may wonder why this extraordinary meeting has been called. The reason is a serious one. The failure of our recent attempt was no accident. The police were not on the premises that night by accident. We have a traitor amongst us. This last failure was not the first. You'll remember the unfortunate way in which the affair of the Dinglewood Purls turned out. And there were others. However, I am happy to say that our minds can now be easy. All these troubles have been traced to their origin. The offender has been discovered and will be removed. The misguided member who introduced the traitor to our ranks will be placed in a position where his lack of caution will have no further ill effects. There's no cause for alarm. Ladies and gentlemen, please take your partners for the next dance. Again the gramophone took up its bizarre monotony and the masked dancers glided and turned. And their movements were sharper, more staccato. The girl in red was claimed by a tall mask and evening dress. A hand laid on Mr. Rogers' arm made him start. A small, plump woman in a green jumper slipped a cold hand into his. The dance went on. When it stopped, everyone stood detached, stiffened in expectation. The endless interval was over. Number one raised his voice. Ladies and gentlemen, you will no doubt wish to be relieved of the questions on your mind. I will name the persons involved. Number 37. Silence! You have failed in discretion. You will be redeemed. If you have anything to say in defense of your folly, I'll hear it later. Sit down. Number 37 sank down upon a chair. He pushed his handkerchief under the mask to wipe his face. Two tall men closed in upon him. The rest fell back. Ladies and gentlemen, I will now name the traitor. Stand forward. Number 21. Take off your mask. Number 37. This man was introduced to our society by you under the name of Joseph Rogers, formerly second footman in the service of the Duke of Denver, dismissed for petty thievery. Did you take steps to verify the statement? I did. I did as God my witness. It was all straight. I had him identified by two of the servants. I asked all over about him. The story was true elsewhere it was. Number 21. Your name has been given as Joseph Rogers. Is that your real name? Answer me. Is that your real name? No. What is your name? Peter Death Bredden Whimsey. Silence! My compliments, your lordship. We thought Lord Whimsey was dead. He was killed so the paper said two winters ago. I shoot a big game in Africa. He even left a will proved to 500,000 pounds. To his mother I believe, the Dowager Duchess of Denver. Lord Peter Whimsey indeed. Well known book collector, man about town, distinguished criminologist. Took an active part in the solution of several famous mysteries. Taking an active part if you don't mind. So you deliberately led us to think you were dead. And became Joseph Rogers to gain entrance to our society. What has become of the real Joseph Rogers? He died abroad. I took his place. At the end of your impersonation to uncover our society. Precisely. I see. The robbery of your own set upon which we congratulated ourselves. And which you helped to execute was arranged. Obviously. The robbery of the Duchess, your mother, was arranged by you. It was. It was a very ugly tiara. No real loss to anybody with decent taste. The burglary of the Winthrop Mansion. The theft of the necklace at Covent Garden. The others as well. You arranged them all. All. May I smoke by the way? You may not. Numbers fifteen, twenty-two, thirty-nine. You have watched the prisoner. Has he made any attempt to communicate with anybody? None. His letters and parcels have been opened. His telephone tapped and his movements followed. Even the water pipes in his house have been under observation for Morse code signals. You're certain? Absolutely. Then we may be sure that he has been alone in this adventure. Well, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. Very well. Take the prisoner away. And be sure you explain carefully to him first the manner of his death. I'm sure he'll enjoy it. Wait. Wait. At least you can let me die decently. Take him away. Stop. I have something to say. Something to sell. We make no bargains with traitors. No, but listen. Do you think I haven't thought of this? I'm not a fool. I've left a letter. To whom? To the police. If I don't return tomorrow, it'll be open. It's a bluff. The prisoner sent no letter. He's been strictly watched for months. I left the letter before I came to Lambeth. Then it can't contain no information of any birth? Oh, but it does. The combination of my safe. Indeed? Has the man's safe been searched? Yes. What did it contain? No information of importance, sir. An outline of our organization, the name of the house, nothing that can't be altered and covered before morning. And did you investigate the inner compartment of the safe? You hear what he says, did you? He's trying to bluff. There is no inner compartment. I hate to contradict you, but I'm really afraid you must have overlooked it. And what did you say was in the compartment, if it does exist? The names of every member of this society with their addresses, photographs and fingerprints. And how did you say you had come to try to get this information? By doing a little detective work on my own. But you've been watched. True. The fingerprints of my watch has adorned the first page of the collection. That statement can be proved? Certainly. The name of number 40, for example... Stop! Stop! If you mention names here, you will certainly have no hope of mercy. Bring the prisoner to my office. Ladies and gentlemen, take your partners for the next dance. Yes, sir. Well, he might have gone on. I've proved that I know your gang from number one through number 25. Do you want me to prove that I know the others as well? My lord, your story fills me with regret that you are not in fact a member of our society. What courage and industry are valuable in an association like ours? I fear I cannot persuade you. No, I suppose not. Yes? Ask the members kindly to proceed to the supper room. Ladies and gentlemen, I'll not conceal from you the seriousness of the situation. The prisoner has recited to me 25 names and addresses which were thought to be unknown except to their owners and to me. There has been great carelessness. Fingerprints have been obtained. He showed me some photographs of them. He tells me that the book of names and addresses is to be found in the inner compartment of his safe, together with certain letters and papers stolen from the houses of members and several objects with fingerprints. I believe he tells the truth. He offers the combination of the safe in exchange for a quick death. I think his offer should be accepted. What is your opinion, ladies and gentlemen? The combination is known already. Fool! This man is Lord Peter Whimsy, a scientist of crime. Do you think he will have forgotten to change the combination? Oh, I say give him the product. I'm getting short. You agreed? It's a bargain, Whimsy. What is the combination? The word of the combination is unreliability. And the inner door, the inner compartment? In anticipation of the visit of the police, the inner door is open. Good. Number 12 and 36. You will go to the prisoner's house and watch it anymore. That's right. I agree. Nobody ought to be trusted. Then what, ladies and gentlemen, do you suggest? You go yourself. You're the only one that knows all the names. You go yourself. I second that motion. I second that motion. Is the wish of the meeting, then, that I should go? No. I say no. No, don't go. Number one is our president, the head and soul of our society. If anything should happen to him, where should we be? You've all blundered. We have your carelessness to thank for all this. Do you think we should be safe for five minutes if he were not here to repair your follies? Well, there's something in that. Pardon my suggesting it. The lady appears to be in a position peculiarly favorable for the reception of the president's confidences. The contents of my modest volume will be no news to her. Why should she not go herself? Because I say she must not. If it is the will of the meeting, I'll go. Give me the key of the house. Here. Is your house watched? No. If I have not returned in two hours, act for the best to save yourselves. And do what you like with the president. The president has been gone two hours. Traitor! What's happened to him? How should I know? Perhaps he's looked after himself and gone while the going was good. Liar! He'd never do that. What have you done with him? Speak, or I'll make you speak. I can only form a guess, madam. I'm afraid that your president may quite inadvertently have left the door of the inner compartment closed behind him, in which case... Let me explain the mechanism of my safe. The inner compartment has two doors. The outer most most opens outward with an ordinary key. Who do you think that the president is so stupid as to be caught in an obvious trap? Undoubtedly he will have wedged open that inner door. But the sole purpose of that inner door is to appear to be the only one. Hidden behind the hinge of that door is another, a sliding panel, also left open. Inside the compartment is the big heavy ledger containing all the information about this society. This ledger lies on a steel shelf. Do I make myself clear? Yes, yes, yes, go on. The steel shelf is balanced on a concealed spring. When the weight of the book, the ledger, is lifted, the shelf rises almost imperceptibly. And in rising it makes an electrical contact. Now let me draw a picture. Your president steps into the inner compartment, sees the book, takes it up anxiously to examine to see if it's the right one. The shelf rises, the electrical contact is made, and the steel panel behind him slides into place. He's trapped. You devil! What is the word that opens the inner door? Quick, the word! Do you remember the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves? Well, when I had this safe constructed, my mind went back, well, call me sentimental if you will, to my childhood. The words that open the door are open sesame. How long can a man live in this devil's trap of yours? Oh, I should think he might hold out for a few hours if he didn't use up all the oxygen by hammering and yelling. I imagine if we go there at once we'll be able to get him out all right. I'll go myself. I think you'd better take me with you. Why? Well, I'm the only person who can open the door. But you've given me the word. Yes, you have the word, but this door of mine, I'm rather proud of it. You know, it's my own invention. It's the latest thing. It will open to the words open sesame all right, but to my voice only. Your voice? I'll chop your voice from my hands! Don't! What do you mean, your voice only? Don't clutch my throat like that. You'll wreck my voice and then the door might not recognize it. That's better. The door got stuck for a week once and when I had a cold. Is what he says true? Is it possible? Perfectly possible, madam. It'll have a microphone arrangement. Could be done also with light vibrations. We must let him go. Take the ropes off him. Let him go? Nothing. He doesn't go to blab to the police. The president's done in, that's all. And we'd all better make traps while we can. It's all up boys. Right, chuck this fellow down the cellar and fasten him in. I'll go and destroy the ledgers. Thirty-two, you know where the switch is. Give us a quarter of an hour to clear, then he can blow the place to glory. No, no, you can't leave one to die. He's your president, your leader. I won't let it happen. I won't. I'll free this man myself. Here, none of that. Let me go. Let go of me. Think, Larkin, think. It's be light in an hour or two. The police may be here in any moment. Please. Oh yes. Yes, you're right. No, we mustn't imperil the safety of all for just one man. He himself would not wish it. Throw this man in the cellar and let's get out of here while it's dying. Here. This is good enough. Leave him here. Right. Now let's go. Hey, you chaps. Yeah? Should have gagged him. I say, it's lonesome down here in this cellar. You might at least leave the light on. Don't worry about the dark. That ticking you here is the time tube for the bomb that's going to blow out this place. It's all set. You won't have long to wait. Not long. Who is it? Who's there? Shh. Hold still so I can cut the ropes. Well, if it isn't two. My compliments, madam, on your loyalty to your presence. Quick, quick. They've set the time fuse. The house is mined. Follow me as fast as you can. Number one must be saved. And only you can do it. Well, how did you manage to? There's no time for questions. Get up and follow me. You will release him. You promise? I promise. But I warn you, madam, that this house is surrounded. When my safe door closed, it gave a signal to Scotland Yard. All the members of the society had taken it. Never mind them. Here. Outside. Quick. All right. Who's there? Is that you, Inspector? Get your fellows away, quick. The house is going up in a minute. Where is he? Lord, where is he? It's Inspector Parker, old man. Are you all right? I'm a bit winded. What happened, Inspector? About half a dozen of them got blown up. The rest we bagged. Hurry. We must hurry. Who's this? One of the gang. She's called number two. We must save him. We must. I can't forget the gentleman at the safe. Parker, where's your car? It's down the lane. Send one of your men down to get it. Right. Johnson, bring that car here. Yes, sir. I've got the number one of the whole company quietly asphyxiating at home. I promise we'll get back and save him. He's the bloke that we've been wanting. The man at the back of the Morrison case and the Hope Wilmington case and hundreds of others. Is this it? Quite a contraption. Yes. I only hope he hasn't upset the adjustment by something about it. Oh, please, hurry. I hope you haven't heard my voice. You sound all right. I can only be conversational. Come on, old thing. Show us your paces. Open sesame. Open sesame. He confounded you. Open sesame. Open sesame. He's dead. Let me see. No, he's not. He lived to stand his trial. And so all's right with the world, as it always is when Lord Peter Whimsy is involved. The Cave of Alibaba by Dorothy Sayers was the story which gave us tonight's Suspense. Suspense is produced by William Spear. Our guest director for this evening was Robert Louis Shea. Tonight's radio drama was written by Peter Lyon and scored by Bernard Herman. Romney Brent was Peter Whimsy. William Moulton played number one. And Ira Gerald, the lady in the case. Others in the cast were Kathleen Cordell, Victor Beecroft, Roland Bottomley, J.W. Austin, William Podmore, Ian Martin, and William Moulton. Next Wednesday, Suspense will not be heard because of a special all-star Hollywood broadcast which Paramount Pictures will present. Two weeks from tonight at this time, Columbia will bring you another selected story from the world's great literature of thrills. Another study in... Suspense. This is Barry Kroger and this is the Columbia Broadcasting System. .
