44-01-13_Dime_A_Dance.txt

Roma Wines presents Suspense. Roma Wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Salud. Your help, senor. Roma Wines toast the world. The wine for your table is Roma Wine. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is the Man in Black, here for the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California, to introduce this weekly half hour of suspense. Tonight in Hollywood, Roma Wines bring you the MGM star, Miss Lucille Ball. The suspense play which stars Miss Ball, which is produced and directed by William Spear, is called Dime a Dance. It deals, as you will presently know, with Broadway life and sudden death. Both set to music. And so, with Dime a Dance and with the performance of Lucille Ball as a red haired young lady named Ginger Allen, Roma Wines again hope to keep you in suspense. Have you ever danced with a murderer? It doesn't cost any more for the extra thrill. It's only a dime. How could I do it, you say? I had to, to save my own life. I'm a taxi dancer from the Joyland Palace. One of the places just off Broadway in the 40s. You know the kind of place. Second rate dance bands like Frankie Frohman's Fifteen Frolicers. I was late to work that night. I ran down Broadway, scrambling through the crowd to the entrance of the Joyland. Fifty beautiful girls upstairs, boys. Come in and count them yourself. No admission. Ten cents to dance. Come in. We're just getting started. The music is the very. Hello, Max. Hey, Ginger. Better step on him. Marina's looking for you. You're late. He's burning. I know it. Has Julie come in yet? Not yet. Fifty beautiful girls waiting to dance with you. Step right in. No admission. We won't bring him back. Good evening. So, you finally decided to come, did you? Hiya, Marino. Sorry I'm late. You ought to be. And so did Julie. All the cash customers are waiting. I sent out the girls before all the years are here, and you say I'm playing favorites. Well, blame it on Julie. She gave me a stand up tonight. All right, so I'll blame it on Julie. Where is she? Isn't she here? No, and she ain't home neither, because I phoned her there 15 minutes ago. I thought she was with you. And I thought she was here. Hey, if this is no gag, what happened to her? Well, that's what I'm beginning to wonder. Go on in and get your stuff on. Julie'll be all right. Yeah, maybe she slipped in while you were busy counting tickets or something. See you right away, Marino. Thanks for being late and being teacher's pet. We've been entertained by Mom here while waiting for her. All right, lay off. Mom, throw me that foot powder. Looks like a heavy night out there. My feet still hurt from last night. Here you are, dearie. That's the way I am, girlies. What I like every once in a while is the good juicy murder. Nice kid, known not to be murdered herself. Throw me that dress, would you? Madame Defarge, the green one. Is Julie here? Not unless she's hiding in the closet, honey. Do any of you know where she is? Who's asking us? Ain't she your buddy? Maybe they had a fire. Well, did any of you hear from her? Why not ask Marino? He's been hanging around her. Now, that Southern girl, Sally, she used to work in a joint like this one further uptown. There was a murder for you. Come on, hurry it up, Billy. Out in the fire, step on her. She just never showed up to work one night. Who didn't? That Southern girl, Sally. Then they found her. That was about three years ago. Oh, what a sight she was when the police discovered Dubai. Oh, cut it out, Mom. Then there was the Robinson gal out in Brooklyn stabbed. To death. They found a phonograph and records by a body didn't even belong to her. The murderer brought his own music. She was the dance hall phony, too. Maybe some guy has it in for you girls. Pleasant character. Well, maybe one fella kills both of them. Maybe there's a dance hall killer still at large getting ready for his next victim. Now, what do you think I pay you girls for anyone? I often wonder. Sure, Marino. Think we're giving a free show in here? Ah, you couldn't interest anybody in that chassis of yours even with a set of dishes thrown in. All right, all of you, file out. I got something to tell Ginger. Come on, get out. Ginger, what I wanted to see you. I know, I know, Marino. I put you in a spot. I'll be dressed in a minute, and if you'll ward off those garlic eaters tonight, I'll work twice as hard and make it up to you, honest. I'm in no spot, Ginger. But you are. Marino, what's the matter? What's happened? The police want to see you, Ginger. Police? What for? I didn't do anything. I'm sorry, Ginger, but. Something's happened to Julie. That's what the police want to see you, Bob. Julie's dead. Dead? Murdered. Tonight in our Suspense Theater, death is a dancing thing. Roma Wines is bringing you Lucille Ball, a star of suspense, in the Cornell Woolrich story, Dime a Dance. You have heard the prologue. For tonight's tale of suspense. Before we return to the scene of our drama, let me say just this. Few spots on the globe boast the unique and perfect combination of nature's gifts which makes possible truly good wine. Wine which the whole world can enjoy. But wine experts will tell you that among those fortunate spots, none can surpass the vineyards of our own California. From these renowned California vineyards come Roma wines. Wines so perfect in flavor, so delightful, that they are enjoyed in many countries of the world. To us in America, Roma wines are an everyday treat, for we may buy them at an astonishingly low price since we pay no import duties or expensive shipping costs. Do you enjoy a delicious tangy sherry? Tomorrow, treat yourself to a glass of Roma California sherry. We're sure you will agree you've never tasted finer. With your first sip, you'll understand why Roma wines are America's largest selling wines. Tomorrow, ask your dealer for your favorite type of Roma wine. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. And now it is with pleasure that Roma Wines bring back to our soundstage Miss Lucille Ball in Dime a Dance, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. All the way over in that police car with those two flat feet from homicide, I could see Marino's face when he said, Murdered. Poor Marino. We got out and walked up to the third floor of the building, to Julie's room. Marino never said a word. All right, sister, in here. Is she still in there? No, you won't have to look at her. Oh. How'd it happen? Strangled. Why didn't she yell out? There were plenty of people around. Now, look, Ginger, we're asking the questions. Yeah, but since you raise it, we figured the person who could get close enough to kill her was someone she felt safe with. She was murdered by someone she trusted, by a friend. Well, I was the only friend she had. Yeah, so they tell us. Unless she had a boyfriend. And who was our boyfriend? Yeah. If she was strangled, where did all the blood come from? Flatfoot didn't answer Marino. He shut up all at once, as if he didn't have the heart to tell us the rest of it. His eyes gave him away, though. I got the whole score just following his gaze around the room. First, he looked at the little phonograph. By using bamboo needles, she could play it late at night. Soft, you know, so no one could hear it. The needle was worn down halfway, all All shredded as though it had been played over and over. Then his eyes wandered to a flat piece of paper that had eight or ten shiny new dimes on it. Some had little brown flecks on them. Then his eyes went down to the rug. It was all pleated up in places, especially along the edges, as though something heavy, something lifeless, had been dragged back and forth over it. You mean he danced with her after he killed her? Gave her a dime a dance even then? Now, will you tell us? Who was her boyfriend? Play that record. Maybe she'll remember some guy they both knew who was hipped on the piece. It was the only one he played. Turn it off! Stop it! Stop that music! That wasn't hers. She never had that record. Poor butterfly. She hated it. She couldn't stand it. Someone brought that record here with him. Sure, someone did. Maybe her boyfriend, sort of. It was no boyfriend. It was someone who waited for her in that room in the dark and killed her before she could scream. It was the same madman who killed those two other dance hall girls. He pays a dime a dance. A dime a dance whether you're alive or dead. Back at the grind. The flatfeet let me go. Nobody told me anything. Sometime, when you have nothing better to do, you try dancing with a couple of hundred guys a night, asking yourself each time one of them wraps his arms around you, is this the killer? Has he a knife in his hand behind my back? Say, can I see you a minute? Got a ticket? Yeah, but I don't want to dance, Ginger. I want to talk. Well, it's your dime. Say, how do you know my name? Oh, just happened to. Who are you, anyway? Recognize those two guys leaning against the wall? The two flat feet? And I'm the third. Nick's the name. What about her boyfriend? Relax. We have proof it wasn't her boyfriend and it wasn't you. Oh, then you expect him to show up again after what he's done already, huh? We just got the report on those other two girls. They were killed by a maniac who played poor Butterfly. Also, the fingerprints in all three cases match. He'll keep it up until we get him. How do you know what he looks like? We don't. We only know he isn't through yet. That's why I was assigned to protect you. Protect me. Yep. Keep my eye on you all night while you work and then take you home right to your door. Now, Marino knows about the other two dicks, but no one knows about me. Fact is, headquarters told me not to tell even you. Then why did you? I just saw how touchy you are. I don't want you to misunderstand my intentions. Well, what if someone asks me who you are? I'll say I'm your new boyfriend. Oh, don't get smart. I never had a boyfriend. Good. Now you've got one. Oh, 35 girls on this musical chain gang. Why do you pick on me? Because we found out one more thing about the killer's habits. The two girls that were murdered before Julie both had red hair. Julie had red hair? Yeah. And so have you, baby. So I was set up as victim number four. Nice thought. But every night, like the milkman, just when the girls filed out to feast the arms and eyes of the wolves, there was Nick. Now, that was some comfort. Nothing personal, you understand. It was also a comfort to see those other two flat feet on the job night after night. How's Ginger? Fine. How's Nick? Hey, you're four minutes late. Miss me? Oh, I'm just a taxpayer that wants to see a public servant earn his money. If the city got broke, I'd do this job for nothing. Uh-oh. Your straw boss, Marino, is giving you the high side. I'll go see what he wants. You wait here. It's on your mind, Marino. Say, who is that monkey hanging around you every night? He pays for his tickets, doesn't he? Yeah, but he never uses them. Who is he? My boyfriend. Oh. You known him long? Long enough. Take care of yourself, Ginger. Don't worry, Marino. I know my way around, but thanks. Besides, we're not running any matrimonial bureau around here. You've got to spread yourself around a little more, share the wealth. There's other customers. All right, all right. Now, watch her, will you? All right. What did he want? Oh, nothing. Nick, is there any news? You know, it's a month since June. No, no, no, no. Calm down, redhead. Hey, that's just it. That red hair. Look, why won't you let me die it? Oh, I've got my reason. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You great, big, silent, strong cops. That's right. Those cops. And then came that night. That horrible night. I was late as usual, got to the dressing room, planning to dress in no seconds flat so I could get out on the floor and be with Nick. Somehow, I felt that I was going to need him that night. Some instinct told me it was a matter of life or death. It's been a whole month since the last one. What I like every once in a while. In the wild is a good juicy murder. Come on, slap it up. What do you think I pay you, Billy, for anyway? Who are you looking out the door for, Ginger? Now, you take that killing of Julie. There was a real juicy kick. Oh, shut up, Mom. Will you cut it out? Oh, I'm sorry, dearie. I keep forgetting you and she was so cool. Oh, that's all right. I'm jittery. Laverne, have you seen my boyfriend? Not tonight. Maybe he got bored. Billy, have you seen Nick? You know, the tall, handsome. Not tonight, Redhead. I guess he's giving you the air. Come on, come on up. What am I paying you, fool? Come on. What's the matter, Ginger? You look like you've seen a ghost. What are you looking for out there? What's so fascinating about the clock? Marino, they're not there. Where are those two flat feet? How'd you know about that? Never mind that now. Where are they? Called off. Called off? That sounds screwy to me, but police headquarters figures they frightened off whoever they was looking for. But that's crazy. I'm going to follow you. That won't do no good. I told them that anybody would wait till it cooled off before trying again. Now is when we should have protection. Well, come on. Get out on the floor. Come on, Ollie. Out on the floor. All right. I'll be out in a second. Really, I will, Marino. Laverne. Yes, hi. As soon as Nick comes in, tell him to come right here. Tell him to tap on the door, will you? Sure enough, Sugar. Hey. What are you looking at me like that for, Ginger? Look, Mom, I've got to talk to you. I can't go out there on the floor. I'm scared. What are you staring holes in me for? Mom, you and I were here in this room the last night Julie was alive. The night she must have been killed, remember? You poor kid. I always liked you. We've got to remember. We've just got to. There was someone dancing with Julie that night. Some rumdum. Julie said something about him. I can't remember what it was she said. Oh, you mean the one that hurt her hand? That's it. That's it. Hurt her hand. Bent her wrist back when they were dancing. Yeah, that's the guy. She said it was almost like as if he got a kick out of hurting you. Seeing you scream. Yeah, now what else? What else? Well, Julie called him a cement mixer. Oh, now we're getting somewhere, Mom. Big art. Oh, he had Julie crazy dancing like a slap happy pug. I remember her describing it. He'd take three little steps to the right as if he was getting ready for a standing broad jump. That was it. Remember how Julie said she felt like screaming, for Pete's sake, if you're going to jump, jump. Yeah, three steps to the right, and if you're going to jump, jump. Hey, what are you doing, Ginger? Some detective work? Getting some clues? Do you know who we're talking about, Mom? The killer? Yeah. Oh! If he enjoyed hurting her like that, when she was still alive, he'd enjoy dancing with her after she was dead. Oh, he's why some coon face. Why, that. There's someone I gotta tell this to right away. Oh, where the. Nick! See you later, Mom. Hey. How's Ginger? Oh, Nick. How's Nick? Are you trembling? Sure it's me. Why not? I thought you were called off the case. We were. Now, what are you doing here? Habit. Do you mind? No, you dumb ape, I don't mind. Boy, how I don't mind. And, uh, as long as it doesn't do to you anymore, do you mind if I do something to you that I've wanted to do for days? Well, depends. I want to take you in my arms. All right, take me in your arms and dance. Anyway, for the time being. I'm a rotten dancer. You're telling me. Nick, Nick, we got to talk. I just found out something about the killer that you ought to know. Later. I paid Marina for all the dances to the end. We can leave whenever you want. After this song, they play Dinah, and then comes the break. We can leave then. What makes it so sure? Well, the band always plays a song in the same order. Then they can sleep while they work. I tell time by them. Limehouse Blues means it's 10 45. Lady Was a Tramp means 11 15. Dinah means 11 30. Never changes except when there's a request number. You know, I like everything about you. I like everything about you, but you're dancing. Let up on my hand, will you? You're bending it upside down. It hurts my wrist. I, uh, told you I was a rotten dancer. Well, for Pete's sake, don't dance like you were priming for a standing broad jump. If you're gonna jump, jump. That's not Dinah. No. It certainly isn't. It's a request number. Who requested it? I did. What's the matter, baby? I look sick. I. I. I feel just awful. I. I do feel sick. Am I dancing that bad? No, no. I just. I. Nick, I'll have to stop. It's the air, I guess. I'll go in and get a drink of water. Yeah. Drink of water in the ladies' room. Oh, I'm. I'm sorry. I'll wait here for you. No, just give me a minute. Operator. Operator. Operator, give me the police department homicide squad. Police department homicide right away. Homicide. Hello, homicide. This is Ginger Allen at Joyland. The third man you assigned to our place is the. Third man? What third man? Nick Ballister, the one you assigned to protect me. We have no Nick Ballister, and there was no man assigned by us to protect you. It's the killer. He's taking me out with him. I don't know where to. Look, I'll leave a trail of ticket stubs. Please come quick. Ginger. Goodbye, Katie. Sorry you couldn't work tonight. I'll fix it with Marino. How are you feeling? You shouldn't have come in here, Nick. Didn't you see the sign? All that? Men keep out, violators subject to arrest? Didn't say positively. Besides, they wouldn't arrest a cop. Why couldn't you leave me in here alone? You were going so long, I thought something had happened. Nothing's happened. Yet. Don't ask me how, but I kept up a patter while we walked. All my brains were in my right hand to clutch those ticket stubs in my coat pocket. I kept dropping those stubs, making sure he didn't see. I tried to stay on the bright streets, but he led me to the lonely ones. The one we were on now was like a graveyard. No lights, no people. Suddenly, I felt my blood run cold. My fingers in that right hand pocket fished around like a drowning man clutching for straws. The last ticket stub was gone. Ginger. Yes, Nick? I'm, uh, I'm hungry. Would you like some chop suey? Like it? Oh, I'd love it. He ate that chop suey with an appetite, like a guy who had work to do. Work he was going to enjoy. I side sneaked a glance at the jukebox without turning my head, you know, just my eyes. What a relief. All kinds of songs, but no poor butterfly. Nick was beginning to act nervous. He'd guzzle a cup of tea, pour another, and keep looking over his shoulder like he was worried somebody might be following us. Then he'd grin like he used to and reach over for my hand. He pressed my fingers till they hurt hard, like he never pressed them before. I guess he couldn't wait. And suddenly he stood up. Ask the waiter for the check, Ginger. I'm just going to wash my hands. Then it's time we left. Waiter. Waiter, quick. Yes, he meant. What will he be? I'm leaving. When my boyfriend comes out, tell him you think I went back to the powder room. A gag, you know, he's a deadbeat. I want to shake him. Maybe. No, no, no, no. Then. Marino, how did you get here? Mom told me, and I followed you to ticket stops. He almost saw me. Come on, quick. Marino, thank heaven you got here. Hurry up. Marino, I can't run anymore. I won't last the block. You won't have to. There's a vacant house in the middle of the block. Here, inside. Fair enough. I think I see him coming. It's all dark in here. No one lives here, that's why. Here, I'll light this searchlight. There's a stairway leading upstairs. Go ahead. I want you now. Don't trip. Them stairs is broken. Now, to this door. Here's a candle and a match. There. Now we can see each other. Wait. Do you think we're safe? We'll know in a few minutes. Oh, Marino. Oh, Tim. Put out that candle. Now, hide. Back there. I'll take care of him. Ginger, Jim. All right, you ask for it. We'll see about that. Who is it? Who is it? Answer me. Answer me, please. Oh. Oh. Oh, go on. Kill me. Get it over with. Oh, why did you stop the music? You danced from the beginning of the racket. Marino! Yeah. Yeah, Muriel. You think you could hide from me with different names and different faces? Marino! Why do you call me Muriel? What are you doing? I'm Ginger, don't you remember? I'm Ginger Allen! Yeah, each time you tell me a different name, Muriel, that you can't get away by changing names. Marino! The first time you changed your name was when you married me, before I left for Europe with that operetta company. You remember? You all got to play Poor Butterfly when you promised to love me forever. Help me. Somebody help me! Yeah, well, the next time you changed your name was when you thought I was dead. Lived on my insurance and married another man. No matter how many times you change your name, Muriel, I'll find you. No, not me. You killed him. You killed him, Marino, again and again. You only killed him last month, Marino. Each time I think I have, she rises again. This time I'm going to kill you and your lover. This is the last time. Now, Nick! And now we dance. Now we dance. Here are your dimes. The one you were going to make. There. And now we dance. And then you. You just must. How's Ginger? Oh, Nick. Oh, Nick. I thought he killed you. I got an awfully hard head. Police will be here in just a minute. Oh, Nick. How do you fit into this? Headquarters never heard of you. They were instructed to say that in case you called. What was the idea of scaring me to death? Well, I figured Marina would follow Ginger and her boyfriend once he thought the police were off the case, and when he did, I had to have you thinking I was the killer so you'd run off with him willingly. Why, you no good. It was the only way to find his hideout and the evidence we need the phonograph, the record, and the attempted murder. At my expense, you big piece of. Another thing. How'd you know about dancing like a broad jumper and turning up my wrist? Oh, I listened outside the door to you and Mom talking about that in the dressing room tonight. Oh. Gave me a couple of neat pointers. Oh. I put them together with poor butterflies so I could scare the daylights out of you. Well, you did, too. I ought to ring your. Oh, calm down. No wife of mine is going to have a red headed temper. Wife of yours? You'll do anything to learn how to dance, won't you? Yeah, it looks that way. No wonder you didn't want me to dye my hair. Premature gray color. And so closes Dime a Dance, presented by Roma Wines, and starring Lucille Ball, tonight's tale of suspense. In just a moment, we'll hear again from Miss Ball. First, though, let's visit a glamorous casino somewhere on the sunny Caribbean. Smartly dressed people stroll about the gardens. The strains of a Cuban song float out. Two men watch from a table on the terrace. One is a Cuban, the other a North American. One is about to propose a toast. To your beautiful country, Jose. I drink to that. Now I propose a toast. To this wine in which we drink our toast. It comes from North America, from California. Its name is Roma. Only a few places in the world produce wines so fine that many countries enjoy them. And among these enjoyable wines are Roma wines, for they come from vineyard districts that are among the finest in the world, our own sunny California. What better testimonial to the quality of Roma wines could you ask than the fact that Roma wines are made in California for the enjoyment of the world? There is a fine Roma wine for you, whether your taste calls for a sherry, a burgundy, or sauterne. And no matter what type of Roma wine you buy, you know you're receiving a truly fine wine at a price made possible because Roma wines are the overwhelming favorite of Americans, America's largest selling wines. Ask your dealer to show you his assortment of Roma wines tomorrow and choose your favorite. Roma, R-O-M-A, Roma wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Remember, this is the year of decision. And that means that this year, more than ever before, we should all buy more and even more war bonds and stamps. This is Lucille Ball. It's been a great pleasure to appear on Suspense this evening. Next week, I know you'll want to be listening, as I certainly will, to a very wonderful actor, Mr. Paul Lucas, who will appear in a suspense play called A World of Darkness. Thank you, Miss Ball. Lucille Ball appeared tonight through the courtesy of Metro Goldwyn Mayer, producers of Madame Curie. Don't forget then, next Thursday, same time, for Paul Lucas in Suspense. Presented by Roma Wines, R O M A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.