43-08-10_The_Fountain_Plays.txt

Suspense! This is the man in black, here again to introduce Columbia's program, Suspense. From Hollywood tonight, we bring you the noted British actor, Mr. Edmund Gwynn, the star of an unusual murder study by his distinguished compatriot, Miss Dorothy Sayers. The story called The Fountain Plays is tonight's tale of suspense. Currently appearing in the Metro Goldwyn Mayer Technicolor production, Lassie Come Home, following such successes as Foreign Correspondent and the stage plays The Wookiee and The Three Sisters, it is Mr. Gwen's particular pleasure to embody on the stage and the screen the eternal middle class Englishman, the common man of Britain, and proud of it. The character Mr. Gwen portrays in our play tonight, Mr. Archibald Spiller, conservative John Bull that he may be, has lately He had a bit of luck. Mr. Spiller lives on a little country estate with a cook and a manservant, and in the garden, yes, a fountain. Of all these little luxuries, it is the fountain which pleases him the most. An interesting sort of hobby for such a man, a fountain. Perhaps more interesting than even Mr. Spiller himself realized at the beginning of that memorable evening. These events were really quite unusual, and with their publication, and with the performance of Mr. Edmund Gwynn as Archie Spiller, We again hope to keep you in. Suspend. The Fountain Plays. Now then, Mr. Spiller. What about it? Have a care of the fountain, Sam. Get wood if you stand too close. Fountain? You're a blasted fountain. Wasting your money on a doodad. It's not expensive, Sam. It's very ingenious, really. Uses the same water over and over again, you see? Don't try and put me off. What about it? Well, I told you I'd talk to you about it later, you see? Later. Later. Well, I want to talk about it now. I want a straight answer to my question. I miss you, Miller. You've given me nothing but bluff and bluster. Do I get it or don't I? That's what I want to know. And if. Fine, now go on. Please, please, my guests are arriving. I'll talk to you tonight. You'd better talk straight, too. It'll be your last chance, Miller. Hello! Hello there, everybody. You're just in time for a cocktail. Come in, come in. Master said we'd find you here, Danny. I hope we're not interrupting. Certainly not. Certainly not. You know Mr. Gooch, don't you, my dear? Of course. And this is my neighbor, Mrs. Digby, Mr. Gooch. How do you do, Mr. Gooch? And Ronald Prowfoot, my daughter's fiancée. How do you do, sir? Oh, dear, dear. Do help yourselves, everybody. You'll find all the fixings right there on the stone setting. Oh, dear, dear. Betty, you play hostess, will you, dear? All right, dear. I'll take mine neat. I was just showing Mr. Gooch the wonders of my little fountain. Oh, Daddy, you do make such a fuss over that fountain. Oh, well, even so, I always say that there's nothing quite like a bit of ornamental water to set the place off. Sort of like the Versailles Gardens, what? Oh, it's really lovely, Mr. Siller. And so secluded with the rhododendrons and the lilac hedge all around. Ah, you like that, eh? You know, I was thinking of cutting out some of these lilacs. Oh, I wouldn't. Well, to make a vista, so to speak. You can't even see it from the house with these bushes on all four sides. Well, now, perhaps that might add something. But if you like the lilacs, Mrs. Bigby, the lilacs shall stay. Oh, Mr. Siller. I'm no authority, I'm sure. Well, if you want an authority, I'd say it's a mess. Plaster, backstrophen, all. A mess, see? Mess? Yes, a mess. Oh, maybe Mr. Gooch means the way the backstop arches up above the stray. It rather overshadows itself. Oh, I have to have that, you know, my dear. Prevailing winds from the south. It blows the jet of water right out onto the grass. If it weren't for that backstop, I'd have a regular swamp over there. Wasteful, too. Well, I'm glad I know that. You always were a fool, Archie, squandering money on a fountain. Oh, no, no, no, indeed. It uses the same water over and over again. It's like the ones in Trafalgar Square, you know. Well, Ingenious, really. Why, isn't that a wonderful idea? Well, I have to be careful, of course, even so. I turn it off every night to save leakage and waste and so on. Same old Spiller. A proper miser, if ever there was one. Oh, I say now. Mr. Spiller, sir. Yeah? Dinner is served. What? Oh, thank you, Master. Thank you. Well, what do you say? Everybody ready for a bit of dinner? Hey? Go in then, shall we? Come on. Let's go in. I got it. I got it. You can get some. Why, Mr. Spiller, your modest little fountain. When you're past the bushes. Why, all at once, you can scarcely hear it at all. Yes, quite impossible to hear it from the house. Can't hear it at all. Another glass of porridge, won't you? Have one there? What is it, Masters? Will that be all then, sir? Yes, thank you, Masters, yes. Excellent dinner. My compliments to the cook, please. Yes, sir. And coffee in the drawing room. Very good, sir. Well, shall we adjourn? Shall we what? Adjourn. Join to the drawing room, what? Quite a toff you've become, eh, Archie? Big change from the old days. Adjourn to the drawing room. Yes, yes. Well, we'll all have a spot of coffee now, eh? Coffee? Is that the best you've got to offer? Oh, no, by no means. Have anything you like, old man. That's better. What would you think, Mr. Spiller, about a rubber or two of bridge? Oh, excellent suggestion. Splendid. Good thing I don't play, eh, Archie? I see I'm counted out before we start. Oh, Mr. Goat, I'm so sorry. Do take my place. I'm really very tired. No, thanks. We didn't play bridge where I come from, and neither did Archie. Although I see he picked it up quick enough once he got. Well, it's never too late to learn, you know. I've got better ways than that to spend my time when I visit an old pal. Where's that fellow, Masters? Was there something you wished, sir? Oh, there you are. Take the whiskey and soda down by that fountain. Whiskey and moonlight and jolly old fountain. That's the proper way to spend an evening, eh, Menard? Er, quite, sir. Mind you bring the full decanter. One drink's only a starter for a chap like yours, truly. Very good, sir. While I'm at it, better take a few of these here coronas. Only the best for your old pals, eh, Archie? Yes, yes. See you folks later. See you later on. Oh, Mr. Digby, shall it be you and me against the youngsters? Daddy. Yes, dear? Will you tell me why you put up with that man? Gooch? Oh, come. He's not a bad sort, really. Had a drop too much this evening, perhaps. He always has a drop too much. And he is a bad sort. He's a rude, unpleasant, terrible man. Well, old friend, you know. Not much a chap can do. Oh, Daddy. You're so soft-hearted. But if you can't do anything, I can. Now, please, dear, please. He'll be gone in a day or two. High time. What does he mean, talking to you that way in your own home? Shall we cut for deals? Yes. Shall I, um. Well, I don't care. You shan't put me off. This is the last time that man is going to come into this house. There you are. Game and rubber. I guess the old folks aren't so slow after all, eh, partner? Now, don't get Daddy all puffed up. You did have all the cards. Oh, not a bit of it. Jolly well played, sir. Say one more. Oh, I'm afraid not. I don't want to put a dancer on the party. But it's 10.30. My word, so it is. Last hour or so passed in no time. Oh, that's probably because we were spared the company of the charming Mr. Gooch. Oh, wonder where he is. I could guess. He said he was going out by the fountain. Dead to the world, that's what he is. Oh, I bet he. Oh, from drink, silly. Oh, of course. Well, I'm not superstitious, you know. Oh, Gooch will take care of himself, I dare say. Well, Mrs. Digby, if you really must. I'm afraid I really must. Well, then perhaps I can see you home. Well, if it wouldn't be inconvenient. Not a bit of it. It's a pleasure I've been looking forward to all the evening. Well, here we are. Yes. It's been such a lovely evening, Mr. Spiller. Yeah, you know, I've been thinking I'm awfully lucky to have found a neighbor like you. At my time of life, I mean. Maybe it's not luck at all. It's fate, you mean? Eh, Mrs. Digby? Hmm? Or may I. May I call you Rosalind? Of course. And you call me Archibald, eh? Silly name, but it's the only one I've got, though. All right. You know, it was true what I said tonight that the place will be needing a new hostess soon. With Betty getting married, you mean? You must be very happy for her. Oh, I am, I am. But what I mean is I mean that, well, we're both alone in the world now, and. Yes? Rosalind, there's something I want to talk to you about. Soon. I can't just now. There are arrangements I have to make, but I do want to talk to you very seriously. Well, I'll always be here, you know. But it's late now. Yes, yes, it is. Well, good night, Rosalind. It has been a lovely evening. Good night, Archibald. Hello, Masters. Tell me, where's everybody? Mr. Ronald left five or ten minutes since, sir, and Miss Elizabeth has retired. Oh, hmm. Well, has Mr. Gooch come in yet? I couldn't say, sir. Shall I go to see? No, no, no. Never mind. You can come along to bed now. I'll lock up. Very good, sir. Oh, by the way, Masters, is the fountain turned off? Yes, sir. I turned it off myself at half past ten, seeing you were engaged. Oh, fine, fine. Well, good night, Masters. Good night, sir. Oh, hello there. Just coming out to look for you, Gooch. Hello. Have a nice evening. A nice evening. Not as nice an evening as you had with the obliging little widow, eh? Well, that's enough of that now, sir. Oh, it is, is it? That's enough, is it? That's a good one. What do you think I am talking to me like that? One of your rugby servants? Well, I'm not. I'm the boss here. Get that into your head. I'm the boss, and you know it. All right, all right. But buzz off to bed now, like a good fellow. It's getting late, and I'm tired. Oh, no, you don't. Think I'm drunk, don't you? Well, I'm not drunk enough so I don't remember the little business I've got with you. Well, can't we talk about it in the morning? No. We'll talk about it right now. I'm short of cash. It's high time you kicked in with some more. Now, look here, Sam. I pay you your allowance as we agreed, and you stay here whenever you like, but that's all. Oh, it is, is it? Yes. Getting pretty high and mighty, aren't you, number 4132? Sam, quiet, for heaven's sake. You're in a fine spot to tell me what you're going to do, aren't you? Quiet, the servants, my dear. Quiet, Betty, my dear, or Ronald Flapdoodle, whatever his name is. Sam, you're drunk. Sure, I'm drunk. I'm not an escaped jailbird, am I? I'm not liable to be all back to work out ten years' odd labor for forgeries. Sam, listen, I'll give you a little extra, just this once. When I think a man like me. That was only in for a short stretch anyway. Worked it out all good and proper. Dependent on the charity, mind you, of a pal. What's rolling in wealth? I'm not rolling in wealth, and you know it. But if you'll promise me, faithfully, that this is the last time. Sure, I'll promise. For an old pal, I'll promise anything. You just give me five thousand down. Five thousand? That's right. I've got a great opportunity. All I need is a little ready cash. Now, don't be an idiot, Sam. What do you think I'm going to lay hands on that much? Just like that. I'll give you a check for 500. Oh, trying to render it on your old pal, eh? I said 5,000, and 5,000 it is, or you'll find yourself back on the rock pile, see? I tell you, I haven't got it. Haven't got it. You've got enough to go buying fancy fountains, playing around with the widow next door. Are you with it, Mr. Digby, out of this? I'll leave a round of it, all right. I'll leave the old pastry to you, old chick. I told you that was enough of that, and I meant it. Now pull yourself together and get to bed. Go on. I'll talk to you in the morning. You hear me, Sam? Sam. Yeah, come on. Come on. I didn't hit you that hard, you know. Go on. Get up on your feet now, Sam. Go on. Sam. Sam. Sam. Hit his head on the corner of the table. Phew. No blood. No, there it is, just over the temple. Soft. Spongy. Mr. Gooch's fall had made quite a racket, too. Somebody must have heard it. They'd be calling out in a moment. Footsteps coming down to find out what's the matter. Have to think fast. What was that? Oh. Oh, just the old clock. Nobody on this side of the house, anyway. Nobody could have heard. Steady now and face the facts. He's dead. Murdered. Oh, it didn't feel like murder. But the police won't care about that. First off, they'll take fingerprints. And then? If I could make them suspect somebody else, confuse them. An alibi. Yes, that's what's needed. An alibi. Make it seem he was alive when he was already dead. Yes. Yes, how do they do it in the stories? To dress up like the dead man and impersonate him. No, no, no, you imitate him, speaking over the phone or. No, you make a gramophone record of his voice or you forge a letter. Oh, no, no, no, forgery. No, I don't want to get mixed up in that old game again. No, no, no, no, no. Oh, shh. Wait a minute, though. The time. The time. Earlier, not later. Say 10 30. While everyone was playing bridge. If he could have died sometime before that. But how to prove it? What happened at 10 30? 10 30. Think. Think. The fountain. The fountain. Yes, the fountain. Mr. Spiller went out to the French windows to the garden, then turned on the fountain, then down the garden path. Stopped and called a name. A name. Sam! Gooch! Gooch! Doing very well, Mr. Spiller was. All careful with the flashlight. They can't hear the fountain from the house, but they can see that. Ah, there's the whiskey, still half full. Pour most of it out, so that it will look as though we had even more to drink. Now back to the house. That'll do. Now back into the house. Looked for him and didn't find him. It was dark. The moon had gone down. But from now on, quiet. Quiet as he is lying over there. The wheelchair. The whole closet. The wheelchair used to be Mrs. Spiller's. Remember how she. No, no, not time to think of that now. Just left him into it. Who'd have ever thought old Sam was so heavy? Now out the other door. But quietly this time. Down the back path. Carefully. Feel like running. Feel as though every window in the house were thronged with white, staring faces, watching, watching the manufacture of an alibi. Here we are. Now to lift him up again. There. Lay him down on the edge of it. One hand in the water. The bruise on his head, right up against the stone corner of the basin. There. What's that? He's alive. Gooch is alive. After all the trouble, after committing practically the perfect crime, he's alive. Sam! Sam! What? Bring him to life again? More blackmail for the rest of your life? What about Mrs. Digby? Rosalind? What about Betty? She at least deserves something better. Murder? All right, murder. He's dead already as far as the rest of the world is concerned. Now. Now or never. His face is right by the water's edge. Push him under. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now And so it's done. Remorse? Why remorse? Does the mouse feel remorse that the cat is killed? Does the prisoner feel remorse when he leaves his prison? No. No, it's done. And well done. Nothing left but the finishing touches now. Take back the wheelchair. Let the fountain run another hour. And then to bed. And when the police come in the morning, the Perfect crime. Remorse? Nonsense. Congratulations would be more like it. Yes, congratulations, Mr. Spiller. Inspector Sampson? Oh, yes. Coming, Inspector. Come in. I hate to trouble you, Mr. Spiller. Congratulations, you know. Of course, of course. Everyone here who was present the night of the. that is, last night. Yes. Inspector, yes. Mrs. Digby, my neighbor, my daughter, Elizabeth. Her fiancé, Mr. Ronald Proudfoot, and the servant, of course. Excellent. Well, now, if you'll all bear with me, I have to ask you all a few questions, you know. But, Inspector, it wasn't. That's what we have to find out. You know, there was a blow on the head. Oh. Now, as I understand it, the deceased was last seen alive at about 8 30, just after dinner. Let me see. You were the last to see him, eh, ma'am? Yes, sir. I believe so, sir. You took the whiskey and soda down to the fountain in the garden and left it there with Mr. Gooch. And that was the last time he was seen alive by any of you, eh? Yes, yes, yes. The four of you then played cards, I believe. Yes. Until what time? Oh, about 10 30. And no one left the room during those two hours? No, no. Then, Mr. Spiller, you accompanied Mrs. Digby to her home. Yes. Is that correct, Mrs. Digby? Yes, respectfully. Now, when you returned, you were met in the hall by Masters. Yes. And what time was that, Masters? About 10 45, sir. And Mr. Spiller at that time inquired after Mr. Gooch? Yes, sir. He asked if I had seen him, and as I had not, he suggested I might retire, but he himself had lost the house. And the others had all left? Yes, sir. That is to say, Mr. Ronald had left. I heard him drive off in his car, and Miss Elizabeth had retired. Then you were alone in the downstairs part of the house, is that so, Mr. Spiller? Yes. Can you tell me, please, what you did then? Well, I was worried about Gooch. He'd been drinking quite a lot, and so I went to look for him. Went down to the end of a garden by the fountain. He didn't go through the lilac hedge to the fountain. No. No, it was dark within. I couldn't see. I called good several times. Did anyone hear Mr. Spiller call? Oh, I did, sir. I was half asleep, as you might say. But I did hear Mr. Spiller call out. And then what did you do, Mr. Spiller? I came back into the house. Set up in the library, read for a while, and about one o'clock I went to bed. Now, this is very important. Who turned off the fountain? I did, sir. At what time? At 10 30, sir. You're quite sure of that? Yes, sir. It was the usual time. I see. And no one would have turned it on again, of course. I can't think why, sir. Well, I think that makes everything very clear, Mr. Spiller. Yes, yes. When the body was found, it was still wet from the spray of the fountain. Therefore, death must have occurred sometime before the fountain was turned off at 10 30. And as all of you here were occupied till then, from the time the deceased was last seen alive. Of course. I said so from the beginning. Well, might have been either, you know. There had been a blow, and there was water in the lungs. However, the man apparently fell due to his intoxicated condition, struck his head, falling into the water, from which he was unable to rescue himself. Well, seems the obvious conclusion, doesn't it? Poor fellow. Well, thanks, everyone. I don't think we shall have to trouble you again, Mr. Spiller. Well, I hope not. And thank you, Inspector. It is the verdict of the coroner, Township of Alton, County of Hampshire, that in the case of the deceased Samuel Gooch, death was due solely to accidental causes. Oh, Daddy, I'm so glad. I was afraid for a while. Oh, there was nothing to be afraid of, dear. Poor old Gooch just lost his footing and fell, that's all. I know. I was afraid of him. Of him? I know it was silly, but he was so strange. I thought he had some sort of hold over you. Oh, nonsense, darling. Just an old friend. And I'm a sentimental old fool. You're an old dear. But I've got to run now. But off with Ronald. Uh huh. Daddy, are you going to be awfully lonely when I've gone? Oh, you know I'll miss you. Maybe Mrs. Digby. Now, now, my girl. Oh, she's such a darling. Oh, she is rather nice, isn't she, eh? In fact, I thought I might pop over the stair this afternoon, as long as you're going to be out. Daddy, I knew it. I won't keep you another second. Oscar over to dinner. Well, perhaps I shall. You'll be on time, though. I will. Bye. Bye. Beg pardon, sir. Oh, master, yes. If it's convenient to you, sir, I should like to have my bedroom changed. I should like to sleep indoors in the main house. Oh? Why that, master? I'm a very light sleeper, sir, and noises keep me awake. Noises? The weather vane, sir, above the garage. When the wind changes, it creeps. Oh, well, a little oil perhaps would soon. I hardly think that would do, sir. Because when the wind changes, there are other noises. They can be most disturbing, sir. What? Other noises? The fountain, sir. Fountain? Yes, sir. Ordinarily, I'm quite unable to hear it any more than you can in the main house, sir. But when the wind is from the west, the plaster back stop acts quite like a sounding board in the direction of my room, sir. In fact, I can hear not only the fountain itself, but I can hear even the faintest noises in the grove around it quite clearly. I see. Quite, sir. For instance, on the night Mr. Gooch sustained his unfortunate accident, the wind changed a little after eleven. The weather vane wakened me, and then I heard the fountain. I seemed to hear other noises too, if I may say so, sir. You heard? Yes, sir. I might add that after hearing the police inspector's observations, I took the precaution of pressing your dinner jacket. The sleeve seemed quite wet, sir. Yes, yes, yes. I think, sir, all things taken into consideration, you might find it worth your while to retain me permanently in your service at, shall we say, double my present wage for now. Oh, yes, of course. I'm very much obliged to you, sir. Is there anything else, sir? No, no, nothing else. I'm going to sit here by the fountain. Very ingenious. The fountain? Yes, most ingenious, my fountain. Costs so little to run because it uses the same water over and over again, over and over again, over and over again. And so closes the Fountain Plays, starring Edmund Gwen and the Dorothy Sayers story, which was tonight's tale of suspense. The producer of these broadcasts is William Spear, who, with Ted Bliss, director, Bernard Herman, and Lucien Marowick, conductor and composer, and Robert L. Richards, the radio author, collaborated on tonight's suspense. Now, CBS is pleased to announce that starting next week at the same time, Mr. Robert Young will begin a brand new series entitled Passport for Adams. Passport for Adams will bring you each week the adventures of an American newspaper reporter among the people of the United Nations. Next week's broadcast will be written and directed by Norman Corwin, with music by Bernard Herrmann, and the star, as we've said, will be Robert Young. This is your narrator, the man in black, who invites you to be with us for suspense one week from Saturday at 7 30 to 8. Eastern War Time and from 8 to 8:30 Pacific War Time, when with Miss Agnes Moorhead and with a repeat performance by popular request of the play called Sorry, Wrong Number. We again hope to keep you in suspense. 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