44-05-04_Dark_Tower.txt

Roma Wines presents Suspense. Roma Wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Salud. Your health, senor. Roma Wines toast the world. The wine for your table is Roma Wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Throughout the world. This is the Man in Black, here to introduce this weekly half hour of Suspense. Tonight from Hollywood, we bring you Mr. Orson Welles. Mr. Welles will appear as star of the suspense drama called The Dark Tower, from the play by George S. Kaufman and the late Alexander Wolcott. But before we raise the curtain on this evening's tale of suspense, here is a message from your host, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California. Let us picture a scene in the fashionable restaurant El Patio in Havana, Cuba. From the next table, we hear a Cuban judge of fine wines describe in glowing terms the wonderful climate and soil of our own California. When his American guest points out that his Cuban host has never been to the United States, the Cuban answers, Well, it's true I've never visited your California. But from only such perfect wine country could come sherry of such superb quality as that we have enjoyed Roma California Sherry. Yes, by their example, wine connoisseurs of many other lands tell you that in Roma wines are all the great qualities that must be present in a wine for great enjoyment. It's for this reason these wine experts of other lands import Roma wines from great distances to be enjoyed as a rare luxury. But for you, this luxury of other lands becomes a daily pleasure because you can enjoy any of Roma wines' many different taste appealing wine types without additional charge for import duties and expensive shipment from great distance. These two great Roma wine features, superb quality and small cost, have made Roma wines America's largest selling wines. I'll spell out the name for you R O M A, Roma wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. And now with the Dark Tower, and with the performance of our star, Orson Welles, as that noted actor, Damon Wellington, scion of the celebrated royal family of stage and screen, We again hope to keep you in suspense. You dare, you dare call me a hand. Varlet, I will prove to the world there are no brains within that thick Teutonic skull. I'll cleave it open like an overripe melon who thus profanes the rehearsal of maligns. Enter, if thou art man of woman born. I fear thee not. Hello, Damon. Ben Weston, you old son of a gun. I heard you were back from the coast. What news on the Rialto from that cesspool of the arts known as Hollywood? Have they turned my picture to the wall at the Brown Derby yet? No, it's still there. I despise myself for wanting to know, of course. It's marvelous to have you back, Ben, old boy. Seen Jessica yet? Yes, I've seen her. Isn't she looking fine? Feeling better than she has for years, I think. You got a great thing in this play, Ben. Changed quite a bit from the original, of course, or to the satire on the family. Perhaps it might be more dignified to say that the family is a satire on the play. Yes, I heard about it. For instance, those lines you heard me declaiming at your end, it actually happened to me once, you know. That German, what's his name, who directed Macbeth, he called me a ham. And I chased him out of the theater and for four city blocks in full costume with a two edged sword. Damon, there's a little thing I like of the second act, too. Jessica asked me why I don't stop drinking, and I'd say, what? Would you have me subsist entirely on food and reach the gargantuan proportions of an Orson Welles? That ought to needle a boy wonder. Amen. Damon, can't you stop clowning for a minute? Of course I can. Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave. Damon, please. Please be serious. What's the matter, old man? You know as well as I do what's the matter. No, frankly, I can't say that I do. Only the world looks rather well. Does it? And Jessica, feeling better than she has for years. Is she? Well, isn't she? Of course not. How could she be? And why shouldn't she be? Damon, don't you realize there's been a murder? Oh, to be sure, sir. There has, and a good thing, too, if you ask me. What of it? What of it? Can't you see the thing is hanging over this house like a curse? I hadn't noticed anything hanging over this house, profane or otherwise. And what about Jessica? Oh, I suppose it's bound to upset her a little, but she's really in fine shape, Ben. She's going to be marvelous in this play. There's more at stake in this than a play, Damon. The thing has never been solved. Perhaps it never will be. Perhaps that's just as well. But Jessica can't remember. Don't you understand, Damon? She can't remember. Well, then, Jessica can't remember. Listen to me, Damon. I wouldn't mind it if it was just that other people thought she might have done it. But they would do that anyway. But she does. Oh, come on, Ben. I don't believe it. I've talked to her, Damon. I know. Oh, I see. Damon, I love Jessica more than anything else in the world. You know that. Yes, Ben, I do. But this way, I couldn't. You couldn't marry a murderess. I just think it'd be rather exciting. Now that you mention it, I rather wish I had. Instead of some of those I did marry. Damon. I'm sorry. Pretty serious to you, isn't it, old man? Did you think it wouldn't be? Well, to tell you the truth, Ben, I hadn't thought about it at all. That's the trouble with being an actor. As long as your part's good, you don't give a hang about the rest of the play. Have you told Jessica? Yes, we had a long talk. How did she take it? You know, Jessica, she carried it off, of course. Hmm. Ben, you know, in spite of all our histrionic bickering, I'm rather nuts about Jessica myself. I know you are, Damon. I have no very fundamental objections to you either. I would describe you, my dear Benjamin, as adequate. Thanks. So I think perhaps you and I'd better have a nice long heart to heart talk. What good will talking do? I think if you'll do the listening and let me do the talking, you'll see. Lend me your ears. I will a tale unfold. Well, Jessica, as you know, had been in a sanitarium for nearly a year. You hadn't been on the stage in more than two years. The Dark Tower was to be your first attempt to work again. All that time. I know it isn't the greatest play in the world, but it has a surefire box office appeal. Jessica needed that to get her confidence back. Well, we were just polishing up a few last minute changes here at the house. David Torrance, the producer, you know, he was there with us. And, of course, there are the usual little differences. And another thing, Damon. When you kick me in the middle of the second act. Where? You know perfectly well where. Is it absolutely essential that you boot me halfway across the stage? What do you want me to do? Pull my punches? That's one of the high spots in the show. It may be a high spot to you, darling, but it's just a black and blue spot to me. Very well. Henceforth, I shall appear for the second act on crutches. You know, Uncle David, that's not a bad idea. Oh, now, Damon, let's be serious. There's a lot of work to do. I'm quite serious. I could throw them at him. You might try throwing me a cue once in a while. The use of having a play if you just make up the lines as you go along. The critics thought my ad-libbing very witty, you remember, dear? Oh, Damon, you're such an insufferable ham. A ham? A ham? Me? A ham? Come now, children, please. I fail to see why I should permit that little minx to insult me with impunity, David. How dare you speak to me that way? You started it. I did not. You started it. You called me a ham. You are ham, ham, ham. Minx, minx, minx. Stop that brawling. But soft. What light through yonder window bricks? It is the east, and Martha is the sun. I quite agree. What? That you're a ham. Gad, I'm beset by harpies. David, haven't you any control over these hirelings of yours? Oh, I'm only the producer, my dear Martha. You at least are a member of the family. And you at least can quit? We're terribly sorry, Aunt Martha. We've been a nuisance, I know, and I apologize. Damon, I even apologize to you. Don't be silly, Jim. I've been much the worse, I know, but I've really been terribly keyed up working again, and, you know, Ben is coming east for the opening. Love rears its ugly head. Don't be horrid, Damon. It's all right. I couldn't even be angry if he was. Anyway, I'll have a husband to protect me by this time next week. I can lick him with one hand tied behind me. Damon, seriously, I know I owe you an awful lot. Me? I hadn't actually realized how far I'd gone. These last six months have been like coming alive again. The play and Ben. Thanks, Damon. Good Lord. Now, I think I'll dress for dinner. Let's all go out to the. I'll get it. Aunt Martha, where would you like to go? To a rest home. Hello? Who? No. No, he's not here. He's not here, I tell you. He's. dead. Oh, darling, what is it? It was. for Stanley. For Stanley? Yeah. Never mind, darling. It's all right. Just some fool who didn't know. Of course. Damon, you take David and Martha after dinner, will you? I think I'll lie down for a little while. Oh, come on, Jess. You must let a little thing like that upset you. I know, but I'm awfully tired. Please. Jessica! You'd better leave her alone for a while, Martha. Oh, I suppose so. It was for Stanley Vance, the husband, huh? Yes. He's dead, you say? Might as well tell him about it, Martha. I was. Always for telling about it. Well, you don't have to. I'd rather. He was the cause of her breakdown, of course. Should have been an actor. That's why Jessica married him. She married him because he forced her to marry him. Huh? He controlled that girl's mind like some sort of fiendish hypnotist. My dear Martha, I've always said that if Jessica was fool enough to marry a psychoanalyst. Damon, stop playing the heartless brother. You saw what Stanley did to her. I was in Hollywood. Perhaps that's why Damon went to Hollywood, huh? Well. What could one do? She was legally married to the man. She'd listen to no one but him. Here's what happened, David. She went to this fellow to be psychoanalyzed, and in the process, something happened. I don't know what it was, but Vance acquired a power over Jessica's mind that was utterly inhuman. He married her, quite frankly, to have her support him. Then he found he'd overplayed his hand and sent her into a complete mental collapse. When he found he couldn't snap her out of it, and she was no longer a source of revenue to him, he simply decamped. Hmm. You say Vance is now dead? We heard the happy news about six months ago. Some public benefactor had shot him. I've always meant to look that fella up. From that very day she began to get better, from the moment she heard the news, it was as though a spell had been lifted. Now she's practically all well. You know, it's odd at that someone phoning for him after all these months. Probably the sheriff just catching up. Oh, I wonder who that could be. Damon. Damon. You don't suppose. I'll go. It may be a peasant with a petition. Good evening. My dear Martha, you are positively psychic. The Honorable Stanley Vance. Thank you. I trust the shock will not be too great. One knoweth not the place nor the hour when the bridegroom cometh, does one? My luggage will be here shortly. Listen to me, Stanley Vance. Good evening, Martha. I regret to arrive so unceremoniously. I have. Been ill. So we have been told. We have been assured, however, that your illness was fatal. Damon, I thought I. Stanley. Jessica. My poor, poor darling. Stanley. Oh, but you're ill, my dear, aren't you? You're ill. You should be resting. You're tired and exhausted, aren't you? Terribly, terribly tired. Yes. I am tired. Oh, great. Terribly tired. I'll take you up to your room, darling. I take it we still have the same room, Martha. Listen to me, Stanley Vance. The poor girl, you can see how weak. If you think you're going to stay under this roof for a single minute, get out. Very well. Get out. Very well, if you insist on being inhospitable, Martha. You'll pack your things, Jessica. We'll go to an hotel. Yes. Yes, Stanley. Jessica. But I'm so tired. Will you help me, Stanley? Of course I will, my dear. Come along. Stanley. Yes, Martha? All right, Stanley. You win. You're asking us to avail ourselves of your hospitality, Martha. Yes, you can stay. That's very sweet of you, Martha. Isn't it, darling? Yes. Yes, Stanley. But somehow, someday, there'll be a time of reckoning for you, Stanley Vance. And until it comes, keep out of my sight. The pleasure will be all mine. Come, darling. We'll go to our room now. Yes, Danny. Damon. Yes, my aged auntie. Damon, what are we going to do? I don't know what you're going to do, Ducky. But I'm going down to the Lambs Club and have a quadruple scotch and soda. You may think it heartless of me, but during the next few days, I simply stayed away. I think you'll understand my reasons later. As for Jessica, she was, of course, completely in his power again. And about a week later, there appeared before the scene a gentleman who was destined to play a very substantial role in our little drama. I think you've already met him, at least on one occasion. I'll get it, Jessica, darling. Hello? No, Mr. Damon Wellington isn't here. Can I take a message, please? Mr. Max Hartsfeld. Hartsfeld. I'll tell him you called Mr. Hartsfeld. I really couldn't say. Well, you can come up and wait if you like, of course, but I can't promise he'll see you. Very well. Goodbye. Jessica? Yes, Stanley. Do you know any friend of Damon's named Max Hartsfeld? No, Stanley. He seemed extremely eager to see him. He said he'd come up here and wait. Oh, I see. It's no matter. Tell me, darling. Have you been feeling a little stronger these last few days? Yes. I think perhaps I am, Stanley. But of course you're not ready to go back on the stage again. Are you, darling? No. Of course not, Stanley. Poor darling. No more love. No more. Well, my little lovebirds, how are you two? How are you, Jessica? A little stronger, I think. Am I a little stronger, Stanley? Of course you are, my dear. Jessica, I think you'd better leave us now. There's something I want to talk over with Damon. Yes, Stanley. I'll see you again very shortly, darling. Yes, Stanley. Well, Damon, I've been wanting to talk to you for some time. Really, I wish I could say the same. I suppose you realize, Damon, that it's out of the question for Jessica to go on in the play in her present condition. Not to the point will your vance have a pressing engagement with a pin-up girl. And I have got to change into my zoot suit. Now, seriously, Damon, I know that you somehow connect me with Jessica's condition. By an odd coincidence, I do. What of it? I know it would make you and everyone very happy if Jessica could go on in the play. Aha, the light at last illuminates my addled wits, so it's a shakedown. A shakedown, is it, Stanley? My dear Damon, I really don't know what you're talking about. Look here, my larcenous in law. I've been shaken down by experts on every conceivable count, including the man I. In my time, and I can smell them a mile away. What you propose is that for certain financial considerations, you will leave this happy home, Jessica will recover, and she can go on in the play. The answer is no. There won't be any play without her, Jessica. Are you suggesting that my name is not sufficient to draw the suckers? I can get a dozen people to play Jessica's part Margaret O'Brien, Marjorie Maine, Daisy, Agnes Moorhead. Makes no difference to me. Anybody at all. Don't try to bluff me, Damon. After all this build up, you won't dare go on without Jessica. You little know me, stinky. You may consider your little farce as having closed on opening night. As for Jessica, I'm very much afraid that she's made her bed, and now she'll have to lie in it. There's no cure for her short of murder with yourself as victim, and I do not propose to put my neck in the hangman's noose. Good night. I think you'll see things my way a little later, Dame. I did. By the way, did I have any calls? Oh, yes. Max Hartsfeld called. He said he was coming up here to wait for you. Good heavens, when? He's on his way now, I imagine. Look. Tell him I'm out. Well, you're going to Hollywood or something. Fellow's been pestering me all week. Wants to buy into the show, and I simply don't want to see him. Well, he wants to buy into the show. Yes, he does not share your lamentable lack of faith in my talent, Stanley, and he's dying to buy into the show. Does he know Jessica won't be able to appear? Of course he does. You idiot. Everybody does. Don't you read the trade papers? And now good night. Repulsive. I have other fish to fry. Toodle-oo. Flat-top. Jessica. Oh, Jessica, my dear. I'm coming then. Tell me, Jessica. The Dark Tower, the play you were going to appear in with Damon, you have an interest in it, don't you? Yes. Yes, I think I do. An equal interest with Damon? With Damon? Yes. How much do you suppose that interest is worth, Jessica? A hundred thousand dollars, I think. $100,000, huh? Yes, that was it. Have you thought about what you're going to do with it now that you can't appear in the play yourself? No, Stanley, I haven't. You see, I'm not at all sure the play will be a success without you, Jessica. I don't know, Stanley. And so it might be wise to sell your share of it before it opens. Don't you agree, Jessica? Yes. Yes. Yes, I do agree. And, Jessica, if I could find a buyer, and I think perhaps I can, it might be best if I were to handle the details for you. Don't you think? Yes, Stanley. You handle it. The fact of the matter is, there's a man coming up here this evening, a friend of Damon's, Max Hartsfeld. Do you remember I asked you about him? Yes. It won't be any trouble to you, darling. All you'll have to do is sign the necessary papers. Excuse me. Is this the residence of Mr. Damon Wellington? Mr. Hartsfield? Yes. Oh, come in, please. Mr. Wellington is at home? No, and we don't expect him, but he has discussed with me the reason for your visit, and I think perhaps you and I can reach a satisfactory agreement. And you are. Stanley Vance. I'm Miss Wellington's husband. This is my wife. How do you do? How do you do? I beg your pardon. Sit down, please, Mr. Hartsfield. May I have your hat and coat? Thank you. And your gloves, please. Sorry, they have eccentricity, perhaps. I always keep them on. Oh. Now, Mr. Hartsell, Damon tells me that you wish to buy an interest in the new Wellington play, The Dark Tower. Yes, I've been seeking an interview with Mr. Wellington. Yes, so he's told me. However, Damon has very definitely made up his mind not to sell any part of his interest in the play. You are sure of this, Mr. Vance? Oh, yes, quite sure. I had a long talk with him about it only this evening. I see. I will not conceal from you that this is a source of great disappointment to me, Mr. Vance. I have such a deep admiration for the talents of Mr. Wellington. I. Ranched in a few previous theatrical enterprises. Now, at last, I hope. I quite understand your feelings, Mr. Hartsfeld, and I think that I may be able to help you. Yes? Yes. You see, Damon owns only half of the Wellington interest in the play. My wife, Miss Jessica Wellington, owns the other half. And she. We, if the offer were sufficiently attractive. And indeed. You are willing to sell then, Miss Wellington? Yes. Whatever Stanley says. Good. Then perhaps we should get down to details, huh? Yes, Mr. Vance. And Miss Wellington, I'm afraid you will think me very rude. Not at all. What is it? Since the talents of Miss Wellington's brother must be considered the very essence of our bargaining, and since you are acting as her agent in any event, I wonder if she'd forgive me if I ask that you and I conclude this part of our business alone, Mr. Vance. Oh, of course. Jessica will understand perfectly. Won't you, my dear? Yes, Stanley. Run along, then, darling. I'll call you when we need you. Yes, Henry. Now, Mr. Lance, I imagine you will wish to know a little more about the man with whom you are dealing. Here's my card. I'm staying at the Waldorf. I've written the rule number on the card for you. Oh, there's no need for your name. Yes. But before we discuss terms, there is one other thing. Yeah? I wonder. You do not know me, do you, Mr. Lance? Know you? I ask. You do not know why I've been looking forward with such pleasure to an interview with you. I know, I. It's very simple. It's very simple, really, Mr. Lance. It's just that I'm. I'm going to kill you. To kill me? Really, Mr. Hartspeth? With these two hands. And before you die. Before you die. I want you to know the reason. Jessica. No, no, no. So you see, Ben, there is your murderer, Mr. Max Hartsfield, and I hope you're duly grateful to him. An elusive fellow, Hartsville. The police have been trying to find him for two weeks. They never will. Left no fingerprints, you see. He always kept his gloves on. It's an eccentricity. Damn it. Wait a minute. Do you mean you? My dear Mutton, my dear Muttonhead. Listen, darling, the whole thing's perfectly clear. It's as plain as the putty nose on Max Hartsville's face. I still can't get it into my head. Benjamin, if you don't know who Max Hartsfield is by now, you are the only person within the sound of my voice who does not. You mean you impersonated. then it wasn't Jessica. Jessica? She never could have done it. The girl has talent, but no genius. But Damon, murder. Murder, he says. Dear friend, you share with me a guilty secret. Your lips are sealed. Come. In the words of Hamlet, never, so help you mercy. Note that you know aught of me. Swear by my sword. What? Swear! I swear? Well said, old mole. Well, I think that winds up the case, Watson. Jessica will receive by registered post a signed confession by Max Hartsfeld, bound in vellum. That should end her words. You may consider it as my wedding present. It will be a work not without literary merit, although written lefty. I should prefer it to be published posthumously. I look forward to a long and brilliant career in the theater. I should not care to terminate it abruptly upon so paltry a characterization as the late Max Hartsfeld. Music. Curtain. Music. And so closes The Dark Tower by Alexander Wolcott and George S. Kaufman, and starring Orson Welles, tonight's tale of suspense. Suspense is produced and directed by William Spear. If we could bring to this microphone a man typical of all Roma wine dealers, this is what he might tell you. I sell a lot of the good Roma wines. They are, you know, America's largest selling wines. My Roma wine customers, I've noticed, are sociable people who enjoy entertaining friends. Talking with me, they give a lot of credit for the success of their entertaining to the enjoyable Roma wines they serve. They're thrifty people, too, these buyers of Roma wines. What else could offer so much enjoyment for so little cost? Only pennies a glass by actual check. Now, that doesn't leave much for me to add, except this, perhaps. If you are not already one of the millions enjoying Roma wines regularly, make your own taste test of any of Roma wines' many different taste-delighting California wine types, such as the delicious tangy Roma sherry, or the hearty Roma burgundy, or the sweeter, heavier Roma port, and discover for yourself why Roma wines are winning international praise voiced in this phrase Roma wines are truly magnificent. Let me repeat the name ROMA, Roma Wines, made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is Orson Welles, ladies and gentlemen. Next week's suspense will, as is its policy from time to time, do the unexpected in the way of casting. Because you're going to hear the country's leading comic juvenile, Mr. Eddie Bracken, as a dramatic actor. I look forward to hearing that. I know you do, too. Ensure your baby's future by ensuring your country's future. Buy war bonds for your baby today. Don't forget, then, next Thursday, same time, you will hear Eddie Bracken in Suspense. Presented by Roma Wines. R O M A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.