Welcome. I'm E .G. Marshall. Welcome to the fear
you can hear. Welcome to the world of terrifying
imagination. It gives me a fiendish delight to
invite you on a very unusual expedition. For
in our tale to come, we are going to travel not
to distant shores, not to outer space, but instead,
backwards in time. Time as the archaeologist
knows it. The depths of time. Strange thing about
archaeology. It seeks to understand life by the
study of death. Can we try to uncover the rest
of the body, Professor? Of course. Jimmy, get
three or four fellows to help you and do it carefully.
There's no way of telling the body's position.
Sure thing, Professor. Oh, this is awful. What
are we going to do? Don't worry. Ancient bodies
are your specialty. Fresh ones are mine. But
how do you know it's murder? You surprise me.
A suicide may dig her own grave, but you'd hardly
expect her to pull the dirt in after her. Our
mystery drama... Dig Me Deadly was written especially
for the Mystery Theatre by S .J. Wilson and stars
Louise Larrabee. I'll be back shortly with Act
One. This is WOR New York, your Mystery Theatre
station. You and I know that death is no respecter
of time. It often comes unbidden, unexpectedly,
even fiercely and murderously. So, get your pith
helmets, your sunglasses, your axes, shovels,
and all the other paraphernalia you will need
to join us in Dig Me Deadly. Young man, why aren't
we on a road? Why do we have to cross the desert?
Because it's the fastest way to where we're going,
Detective Scrubshaw. Not Scrubshaw, Trubeshaw.
Trubeshaw. Detective Claudia Trubeshaw. And I
bet your last toothpick, which I wish you'd take
out of your mouth, that we're really crossing
the Rocky Mountain. There in Colorado, this is
Arizona. I know it's Arizona, Sheriff Wiley.
It's where I came to spend my vacation with my
sister before you showed up with all your horns
swaddling. Oh ma 'am, I didn't know such a thing.
Now what else would you call it? I came here
to get away from L .A. and all that smog and
to breathe in the pure, fresh, clean air of Tucson.
Now, thanks to you, I've got more sand in my
mouth than the whole Sonora desert. That's Mexico.
This is Arizona. I've got news for you. It's
left Mexico and settled in my lungs. Now, you
mean to tell me that in the entire state of Arizona
there isn't a police officer, anybody who can
cover this case, that you had to drag me into
this no -woman's land? Those are my orders, ma
'am. But why would my boss in Los Angeles assign
me to an Arizona case? Well, I guess he knew
you were in the neighborhood. That makes as much
sense as kissing one of those cactuses. They're
called saguaros. Now stop changing the subject.
Now will you tell me where we are going? Like
I said, west of Naco. Good for you. You have
advanced to the next plateau. And why are we
going there? Cause that's where they're digging.
Superb. Now who are they? The kids that are digging.
Wiley, did you ever have your IQ tested? Not
since I know. Well don't, it's probably lower
than Death Valley. And I know, that's in California.
Now, why are they digging? We're dead bodies,
I think. Stop this car at once. Well, what's
wrong, detective? Now, I'm not riding another
minute until you tell me what this is all about.
Well, what more do you want to know? Why I'm
sitting in this rolling junk heap on my way to
West Naco or wherever. Well, there are these
kids there. What? These kids from some school
near LA. Every summer they come and they dig
up things. They're supposed to be real old. In
other words, students working on an archaeological
dig. Never could pronounce that word. Forget
the pronunciation. Just try and make some sense.
Well, a few days ago, I am sitting in the sheriff's
office when this here girl comes by. Excuse me.
Sure, miss. Come on in. sheriff here. The truth
is, there is no sheriff. Then who's in charge?
Well, I guess I am. A sort of deputy sheriff,
you could say, and the name is Wiley. I'm looking
for help. That's why I'm here. What can I do
for you? But you're not a real sheriff. Well,
I don't get paid for it, but they give me the
badge. Why don't you try me? I'm one of the students
working at the Broadfields. The dig? Why don't
you sit down? And there's some trouble there.
What kind of trouble? Well, that's just it. I
can't tell exactly, but someone's following me.
Wherever I go, I have the feeling someone's right
behind me or hiding and waiting to do something
to me. Something terrible. Isn't there anyone
in charge? Professor Wilkerson. He says I'm imagining
things. Well, now, have you ever rarely seen
anyone following you? No, but... Only the other
day someone went through my bureau and my luggage.
Into the messin'? No, but things were all messed
up. Uh -huh. Now, what's your name? Rogers. Edith
Rogers. Miss Rogers. Now, do you... Do you have
any idea why somebody'd be telling you or looking
through your things? I think someone's trying
to kill me. Kill you? Hey, that's serious. Why
would anyone want to do that? Because they're
afraid of me, scared of what I could do. Why,
you don't look like you could trouble Horne Toad.
What are they scared of? Who is it? No, I can't
tell you. If they found out I came here, they'd
do it faster. Anyway, you can't help me. Maybe
nobody can. Hey, wait a minute! Wait a minute!
Wait there! Then what did you do? I phoned that
Professor Wilkinson. Say, Detective, can we get
this thing going again? Alright, but only as
long as you tell me everything you know. Well,
I called up that professor and I told him about
it. And he said that it was the girl's first
summer there and that working in the hot sun
and seeing all those graves and skeletons was
something she just wasn't used to. Then he said
he'd take care of it and for me not to worry.
Well now, at first I thought I'd better leave
well enough alone, except that the whole... thing
just kept a -packing at me. So, a couple days
later I dropped by the Broadfield spread and
was told by a girl who roomed with this Edith
Rogers that she, that is to say this Edith Rogers
here, she had left. Did she say when? I didn't
ask. Did she say how or why? No, I didn't ask
that either. Were her clothes and luggage gone?
Gosh, I didn't think to ask that neither. Then
how come you thought to ask for me? Well, I called
his friend of my father's who is assistant deputy
chief of police. Say no more. You called my boss
Morgan. In other words, this isn't an official
assignment, is it? Well, he told me you were
in Tucson and to speak to you. And dragging me
through this sand heap is your idea of speaking
to me. Wiley, if I admit something to you, will
you promise never to tell anyone? Sure thing,
detective. I know of only one person who's a
bigger fool than you. Who'd that be? Me. Detective
Troopshaw? I'm Julian Wilkerson. One of the students
tells me you'd like to see me. Only in an unofficial
capacity, Professor. If you can be of assistance,
fine. If not, I'll understand. Well, I'll try.
Professor, this is Sheriff Wiley. Oh, yes. How
do you do? Hi. What's it all about? The Rogers
girl. I understand she's not here any longer.
Yes. I knew that girl would be more trouble than
it was worth to bring her out here. Then why
was she here? Oh, she was thinking of archaeology
as a major. You see, she apparently comes from
a difficult home. She had nothing to occupy her
this summer, and the dean asked me if we could
fit her in. Try to make her feel she belongs
to something, a group. Apparently it didn't work
out. No. She moped a lot. Got depressed, suspicious.
Felt she wasn't wanted. I did everything I could.
I got two of the nicest girls' room with her.
Who are they? Oh, Jeannine Boulanger, a French
exchange student. Specializes in atomic physics.
And Susan Maitrop, a straight -A student, very
outgoing, very bright. Were there any young men?
Yes. I didn't like doing it, but I got Jimmy
Trumbull to spend some of his free time with
her. Here's our prize. It's a brilliant fellow.
We call him our Libby. Libby? Well, now that's
a girl's name, eh? Wiley, you're famous for not
asking questions. Why not live up to your reputation?
Professor Libby developed the carbon -14 dating
system. Oh, he did. Did he? Yes. Anyway, Edith
didn't take to the work or to anyone. It's no
surprise that she just dropped out. Are her belongings
still here? Well, I wouldn't know, but Susan
would. She's in the specimen shed next door.
Let me call her. Sue? Sue Lathrop? Yes? Yes,
Professor? Well, can you come to my office for
a minute? Wiley, why don't you do something constructive,
like seeing if you can get me something to wash
down this sandstorm I swallowed. Thanks to you.
Sure thing. Detective, anything special? Just
something soft, wet, and cold, please. I'll be
back in a minute. Oh! Sorry, Miss. I didn't mean
to knock. Oh, that's all right. Susan, I'd like
you to meet Detective Kloopshaw. A detective?
From the police? Yes, but not on official business.
What for, then? I was wondering if Edith Rogers'
belongings were still in her room. Oh, Edith?
Oh, no. She took everything when she left. When
was that? Oh, about four or maybe five days ago.
I'm not sure. Do you have any idea why she left?
Not really. She... She didn't tell anyone she
was going, but then she just didn't get... Well,
what can I say? Susan's trying to be discreet.
The fact is the girl just didn't belong. Did
anyone notify her family? I know I didn't. We
just assume that she hitchhiked her way home,
or perhaps to one of the youth communes around
here. Then at this point, we don't know if she
left or disappeared. But what would make you
think she disappeared? She went for help to what's
supposed to be the local sheriff's office. She
was frightened, thought she was being followed,
that someone wanted to kill her. That's just
like her. She was so silly, so romantic, always
making up stories where so -and -so loved her
madly, and so -and -so was terribly jealous of
her. And of course, she was always at the top
of the triangle. Uh, I suppose we could phone
her home and see if she got there. You're bored!
You're stupid, idiot! Bored! There's no call
to get yourself all heated up. It's just an old
arrowhead. Besides this radioactive area, I'll
do nothing to her. Sounds like Wiley tried to
get me a bottle of atomic soda pop. Oh, that's
shitting. Let's see what the fuss is about. Now
what, Wiley? Well, it beats me. I just picked
up this here arrowhead in that shed and she comes
down on me like an eagle on a stray lair. That
is not an arrowhead, young fella. It's a spear
point that happens to be about 12 ,000 years
old. Trouble is it's recently been through carbon
-14 dating. That? Yes, and it may still be hot.
Like an atom bomb. Hopefully, Wiley, you'll go
up in a mushroom any minute. Professor, I am
so sorry. Wiley, just give that arrowhead to
Janine. She's wearing protective gloves. And
then follow her. She'll take you to the decontamination
room. You'll probably be all right. Don't look
so worried, Wiley. There's no chance of it affecting
your brains. Sure not, Detective. Absolutely.
Follow me, you goose! Quickly! So that stone
point is 12 ,000 years old. Yes. Well, that's
as close as we can get within the margins given
by C -14, but Jimmy is now working with radioactive
potassium, which can give us an earlier reading.
I thought 10 ,000 to 15 ,000 was about the earliest
records we have of men on this continent. Well,
we've got some surprises in store. Not only for
you, detective, but for the world. Really? Care
to give me a clue? I already have. I filed that
one away. Which one? With C -14, you can date
back some 50 ,000 years, but with potassium,
you can go back to at least one million years,
right? Yes, that was the clue. Interesting. What
are you hoping for? It's no longer a hope, detective,
but you'll have to be patient and wait until
we release our reports. The kids seem to be heading
for the northwestern grids. I've got to go. I'll
bet it's Wiley again. Nothing like this has happened
before. Nothing like Wiley has happened before.
Susan? Susan, do you know what's happening? No,
Professor, but it's something exciting. Maybe
a new find. I hope they didn't have to dig as
much sand as I've got in my shoes. I'll catch
up with you. Fire Detective, aren't you coming?
Someone scream! Wiley, where have you been? I've
been in that shed with that French refrigerator.
I need your shoulder. What, what's wrong? To
lean on so I can get the Sahara out of my shoes.
Okay, but you better hurry. Wiley, no matter
what has happened up there, you've got to do
something for me. What's that? In that shed,
can you remember what you saw there? Pretty much.
Then listen carefully. Oh, Bordier, it's a woman's
hand. And I know who it is. By the ring, the
silver band. Well, whose is it? Edith Rogers.
Oh. All right, no one touch anything until Detective
Troopshaw gets here. A detective? A lady detective?
Okay, kids, one detective coming up. Let me through.
Yes, yes, yes, yes. Let the detective through,
please. Well, from the looks of it, here is a
lady who definitely needs a hand. Who found her?
I did. And who are you? James Trumbull. I told
you about him, remember? Oh, yes. Your Libby,
as you call him. Yes. But, uh, there doesn't
seem to be any digging around here. Is this the
way you found her? Just one hand sticking out
of the sand? No. I was on my way to the datum
point to figure out what the next grid would
be. When I passed this place and noticed that
someone had been digging around here, the sand
wasn't as flat as the surrounding area and not
as compact. So I began to brush away the top
layer. until I uncovered this one hand. Professor,
have I your permission to supervise this matter
until I get official regulations? Yes, of course.
Thanks. Has anyone been able to identify the
hand? Susan! She said it is Edith Rogers. What
makes you think that? The silver band. I was
with her when she bought it in town a couple
of weeks ago. She bought a silver wedding band?
I asked her why, and she said she expected to
be married very soon. It just sounded like one
of her crazy stories, so... So I forgot about
it. I see. Well, rings have been known to change
fingers. Can we try and uncover the rest of the
body? Of course. Jimmy, you get three or four
fellows to help you. Do it carefully, please.
There's no way of telling the body's position.
Sure thing, Professor. Oh, this is awful. What
are we going to do? Don't worry, Professor. Ancient
bodies are your specialty. Fresh ones are mine.
Yes, but this is liable to stop our work. This
place will be crawling with police, newsmen,
television crews, what -all. Really? Why? Isn't
murder a little too common to rate that kind
of attention? But how do you know it is murder?
Miss Lathrop, you surprise me. A suicide may
dig her own grave, but you'd hardly expect her
to pull the dirt in after her. Pits very shallow,
Professor. I don't think we should use shovels.
Shall we use the brushes from here? Sure, but
let's get a move on, eh? Ah! Look! Look! The
hand is attached only to bones! To a skeleton!
Oh, no, I never seen it. Oh, now, now, will you
all stop crowding? You'd think this was a Hollywood
opening. Oh, Janine is right. There is no body.
The hands are attached to a skeleton. fleshed
hands attached to a body that is nothing more
than bones, a skeleton. You know, Mother Earth
is very miserly about giving up her secrets,
but little by little man has dug them out of
her. But never before has there been this kind
of puzzle in which the hands belong to the present
and the body to the past. We'll be back shortly
with Act II. We return to our dilemma. The question
is, what is a bunch of young bright college students
going to do about a body that has fully fleshed
hands attached to the bones of a skeleton? And
what is our lady detective, Claudia Troupshaw,
going to do with this seemingly improbable corpse?
Yes, Captain. You've got to tell me under whose
jurisdiction this case belongs. No, there is
no local police department. The hands may be
the Roger girls, but the body, when you get this,
it's a skeleton. And the professor tells me it's
over two and a half thousand years old. Stop
yelling! I know it sounds crazy, but they just
did a C -14 test on one of the bones. And that's
the result. Two and a half thousand years old.
But not the hands. Whose case is it I want to
know? Mine? Why mine? Well, will you get in touch
with the FBI at once? No, I can't use anyone
here to help me that's already here. Why not?
Because they're all under suspicion, that's why
not. Lunkhead. It's nice of you, Miss Boulanger,
to take time off to have this little talk with
me. Professor Wilkerson said I should answer
all your questions to the best that I can. Do
you always do what Professor Wilkerson asks?
Oh, yes. He is a marvelous man. He is so brilliant.
I'm sure. Tell me, do you have many friends among
the other students? I don't think so. Not even
Jimmy Trumbull? Oh, he is nice, but he is such
a little boy. And the others? I'm afraid they're
all too jealous. Do you know why? Oh, they think
that the professor treats me like a favorite.
Well, does he? Of course not. But I have studied
all of this and done it in France before so I
knew it very well and they do not I think I understand
This body we found you've seen it. I could not
bear to look. Oh, but you did Now tell me in
all your work both here and in France. Have you
ever seen anything like it? No Absolutely not
and you couldn't explain how two perfectly fleshed
hands could be attached to a prehistoric skeleton
It's against all possibilities. What... What
did you think of Edith Rogers? She was very unfortunate.
In what way? Oh, she so badly needed some kind
of an attachment. With a boy, I mean. And I think
she almost found it. But then that Susan Lathrop
got in the way and kept it from happening. How
do you mean? Oh, I don't like talking gossip.
But Edith Rogers liked very much this Jimmy Trumble.
But that Susan who blows hot one day and cold
the next, makes up her mind that Jimmy is her
property. And she says to that Roger's girl,
she should stay off her property. Anything else,
Janine? No. That is all. Thank you. You've been
very helpful. Come on in. Oh, hello, Jimmy. Hello,
Detective Croupshaw. Professor Wilkinson says
you want to see me. I have just a few questions
that may or may not help clear up some of your
problems. My problems? No, not yours personally,
but the outfits. But where's the problem? Well,
if those hands belong to Edith Rogers, it means
she's dead. And that, I'd call a problem. This
whole thing's crazy. It's some kind of gag. I
mean, it's not possible for a skeleton of someone
who's been dead for over 2 ,000 years to have
the hands of someone who was alive a week ago,
or less. Did you see Edith Rogers about a week
ago? Yes, ma 'am. I understood you were one of
the very few who was sort of interested in Edith
Rogers. Well, I was sorry for her. She was lonely
and frightened. Did any of the others talk to
you about her? No, but Edith had a lot to say
about us. Can you give me some idea? Edith thought
Susan was a fake, that Janine was phony, and
the rest of us pretty silly digging away in over
100 degrees temperature. She just didn't understand
why we were doing it. Didn't that make you wonder
what she was doing here? Oh, sure. But she was
lonely, and she would have done anything to be
anywhere. Oh, say, I almost forgot. Something
funny happened this morning, and I meant to tell
you about it, but with all the rumors and gossip,
well, it just slipped my mind. What was it? On
my way to the grid we're working on, I ran into
this Indian. A really strange guy. He was dressed
in some weird Mexican costume and had long droopy
mustaches. And he asked me in this queer accent
if I knew where Minnehaha was buried. Minnehaha?
Was he kidding? Who knows? When I told him I
didn't know, he became very sad. And he said
his name was Tepexpan. And that his wife had
died 10 ,000 years ago. Tepexpan, no less. The
name's sort of familiar. Oh, come on, Jimmy.
Even I know that for years the Tepexpan Man was
considered the earliest specimen of man found
in the United States. Oh, of course. What else
did he say? Now, let's see. Oh, I wrote it down
here. Here it is. He said, She who seeks shall
find the answers in her mind if she can find
the man that is called Tepexpan. You're putting
me on. No, I'm not, honestly. And then he said
that she would find the star of Tepexpan in the
south of Tuxpan. Can I have that paper, Jimmy?
Of course. Thanks. Tepexpan my foot. Wiley must
be a genius to be able to drive this kidney buster.
I could just about manage to keep the wheels
straight. Now, where am I? Tuxpan, Tuxpan. Ah!
Here it is, Tuxpan Avenue. Now turn south. How
am I supposed to find the building? The star
of Tuxpan. Ah! Lo and behold, a building with
a star over the door. I'll fix that one's TP.
I was told you've been to the ancient burial
ground. You have been told well. I go to see
my wife. Is she one of the workers at the day?
Oh, no. She toils no more. Your people toil for
her. Hit me with that one again. She has been
dead for over 10 ,000 years. I thought it was
2 ,500. Ah, but what's a few years in a romance
that's lasted that long, right? Her spirit gives
me many answers to my prayers. Do the answers
to mine happen to be among them? Well, if you
open the pouch, I will place a magic message
within. Gracias, Señor. It is by the will of
the gods that I obey. Incidentally, Señor Tepexpan,
the next time you speak to the spirits of the
gods, find out the name in Indian for fruitcake.
As Asia Squad commands. And take that silly toothpick
out of your face. Who's there? Shirley Holmes.
Who? Oh, it's you, Detective. I was just being
cute, Miss Lathrop. Shirley, Sherlock Holmes.
Get it? What's there to get cute about? I see
you're packing. I'm leaving. I'm sorry, Miss
Lathrop, but you're not going anywhere. Why not?
Because everyone stays put until I get the answers
to a thing or two. Such as? If the body we found
yesterday was Edith Rogers... I told you it has
to be Edith. They are her hands. ...attached
to a prehistoric skeleton. I don't care what
the radiocarbon dating says. I was with her when
she bought that wedding band. She didn't say
anything about when she planned to get married.
No. And you didn't laugh? I thought she was clowning.
So she impressed you as the sort of person who
would clown about getting married? I guess she
wasn't old -fashioned enough to be serious about
it. But most of the girls here aren't into things
like getting married. We don't have such hang
-ups. And Edith Rogers was a square. Very square.
You must have found it a bore to room with her.
Frankly, she was a bit of a drag. How did Janine
get along with her? They hardly spoke to each
other. Because of Wilkerson? How did you know?
Do you think either of them got anywhere with
him? Janine was making points. Not that she's
so hot. But her father's an important politician
in France. And Wilkerson is impressed by that
sort of thing. Ambitious, eh? Even at his age.
Oh, come on, Miss Lathrop. He's not that old.
Old enough to have a son who's in college. As
a matter of fact, it was good old Edith Rogers
who told me that. Did she tell you anything else?
Nothing important. Have you ever seen anything
like that body before? Never. Think hard. Maybe
an experiment done on an animal in a lab, or
in the dating shed? No. Besides, I'm not allowed
in the shed. Why not? I don't get to work on
dating until next term. Oh, I guess I'll have
to take my own advanced course with Professor
Wilkerson. I was waiting for the second moccasin
to drop. Let's go. It is written in the book
of Proverbs, and wisely I believe, that spusso
diggeth a pit shall fall therein. Our problem
is that all our characters are diggers in pits.
Even our ardent detective Claudia Trugshaw has
been digging through level after level, but getting
seemingly nowhere. I'll be back shortly with
Act 3. Do you realize that the gunshot we heard
at the end of the second act Was it the first
time anyone has used a conventional weapon in
our story? Well, gunshots may not only be used
to signify someone's end, they may also be fired
to start something. Isn't that typical of a woman?
She calls for help but doesn't bother to tell
where she needs it. It's down a far away. Maybe
from the northern grid section. You mean where
the body was found? Yes. What could anyone be
doing out there? Looking for clues? Maybe hiding...
Well, why didn't I think of that? There's our
man. You mean Professor Wilkerson? Yes. Hey,
Professor! There, Detective, over here! There
he is. He turned on his flash. Professor, hold
it a minute. Let me catch my breath. Did you
hear Janine call? I know. I was covering grid
S -42. We were working late there. Are you sure
it was Janine? Pretty much, unless someone's
imitating her accent. We don't know from where
she called. I think it came from that north grid.
First we heard what may have been a gunshot,
and then we heard LaBelle Janine calling for
help. Hey, has everyone around here gone bananas?
They say they heard a gunshot. Detective Troopsure
says Janine cried for help. And where were you,
Mr. Trumbull? In the barracks doing some research.
Well, anyway, the detective thinks that Janine
is locked in somewhere. Well, how about the lab
shed? I think you're in the tank. Come on. Who
has the key to the shed? You'll have to wait
out here. What for? I'll have to go in first
to check on possible radioactivity inside. Just
one second, Professor. Jeanine? Jeanine, are
you in there? Yes, I am. I am. Is it safe for
us to come in? Yes, it is very safe. All right,
I've got to get my key here. Oh, Professor. This
girl faints easier than I can think. Janine.
Janine, are you all right? Don't ask her. She'll
say no. Get her back inside. Now, for the rest
of you, please, stay out here. Don't go anywhere,
anyone. Still planning to leave, Susan? She wouldn't
let me. Besides, what difference would it make
to you if I did? I'm just being friendly. Isn't
it a little too late? What do you mean? Well,
now that Edith Rogers is dead... Do you think
I'd be waiting around to catch you on the rebound?
Look, I was just being kind to her. Kind? Isn't
there a phrase about someone being killed with
kindness? What are you getting at? Now listen,
James Trumbull. Because Edith Rogers was a fool
doesn't mean all girls are. No one ever said
you were. Look, the only reason I took her out
a couple of times was because the professor asked
me to. Aren't you the obedient student? What
professors say, Jimmy do. I don't know how else
I can convince you. You can't. And if I were
you, I wouldn't try. Look, you can count on my
being fair and keeping quiet. I'm not out for
revenge. But I'm also not about to stick my neck
out for anyone, including you. I still don't
know what you're getting at. I'm getting at who
killed Edith Rogers. I don't know why it is,
Professor, but I've never seen a woman in a faint
whose legs didn't look lousy. Oh. What happened?
That did it. It always does. Janine. Janine.
I don't want to interrupt, but like a good archaeologist,
would someone please get to the bones of the
matter? Hey, I'm speaking as fast as I know.
I heard a noise at the window. What kind of noise?
The window was opening. Wasn't it locked? It's
always locked. So I went to see what could be
happening and already there was this man climbing
inside. What was it like? He was an old Indian
man with long moustaches. I told him to get out,
that he was dangerous to be here. And then? He
would not say anything but stood there. So I
run back to the lab room where I have my pistol
and when I returned I found him in the specimen
room. He had a leather bag tied around his waist.
It was open. Did you see him put anything in
it? No. But I held up the pistol and told him
I would shoot if he didn't put back whatever
he took. So he put his hand in the bag and took
something out and threw it in my eyes. Then I
pressed the pistol. What did it throw? Little
things. I don't know. Let's take a look. All
right. Now, wait, wait, wait. Here on the floor,
thin slivers. It's maybe wood. Let's take a closer
look. No, no, no, don't touch them. For heaven's
sakes, why not? They may be hot. I'll get the
counter. Is anything missing, Miss Boulanger?
I have not looked. Well, do that little thing.
And Miss Boulanger, the next time you find that
you're stuck in here, just open the lock and
walk out. Okay, folks, time has come to stop
playing games. What kind of games? The game where
one hand washes the other. Now, since you've
got seniority, Professor, we'll start with you.
What kind of a game could I possibly be playing?
Well, as a professor, you're a great show. As
a poker player, you're stupid. Oh, really? You
don't know how to bluff. Remember how you insisted
that spear point Wiley took from the shed had
to be radioactive? Well, you were lying. How
dare you? When it comes to the truth, Professor,
I'm very daring. That spear point was in perfect
condition if it had been dated a piece of it
would have had to be missing How could you know
that? What do you think they teach us at the
police academy home economics? Now putting it
simply The less carbon -14 in an object, the
older it is, right? That is correct. And the
older, the more valuable. Sure, that's what we're
here for, to find evidence leading back to the
first human being in America. And when you can't
find it? Well, then you can fake it, can't you?
What do you mean, detective? There's no dating
equipment in that shed. You are preposterous.
Wait till you hear how preposterous I really
am. Only two people have been allowed in that
shed. You and Miss Boulanger. Yes, those are
the rules. Well, a certain friend of mine broke
those rules. Senor Tepex Pan, if you please.
Now, if you'll just get rid of those tired handlebars
from under your nose. Glad to. They sure itch.
The one who asks me questions about Edith. Right.
And he got into that shed not to take things,
but to return them, didn't you, Wiley? I sure
did. But, uh, what did you take that had to be
put back? That old sphere point and the nozzle
on that machine. The head? The bombarding head?
And I took them both to Tucson to have the experts
there take a look at them. And they confirmed
my best suspicions. Professor Wilkerson, you
and Miss Boulanger were faking your specimens,
making them older. That's one accusation I won't
buy. You can always return it for credit when
I open that department. Meanwhile, you were bombarding
those specimens repeatedly trying to get them
to date more than 50 ,000 years. Professor, did
you do that? I just can't believe it. Why not,
Trumbull? You invented the machine. Well, only
by accident. It was a fluke. And you told your
esteemed professor about that fluke, and he told
you to keep it under wraps. Yes, I did keep it
under wraps. I never wrote a paper. How'd they
know about it in Tucson? Well, I sent them a
report but but only for their opinion Tramble
you're a damn fool. You know professor. You're
just plain not nice Here we girls spend fortunes
trying to keep young while you try to make a
fortune aging us Which brings me to Edith Rogers
of those present Only Wilkerson, Trumbull, and
Miss Boulanger knew how to operate that machine.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait You knew she
had something on the professor else she wouldn't
have been here But when you heard about the wedding
ring you thought you just might lose not only
your professor, but more importantly that machine
I'm sorry. What's going on here? I'm home alone.
So am I Trumbo when it comes to you I? Can't
figure what you had to do with all this he may
not be that innocent He did try and make time
with Edith Rogers until she dumped him. That's
not true Susan. You're calling me a liar I think
you and your two pals are all to blame for that
girl's death. You all deserve to be murdered.
And this time, Miss Lathrop, you'd do it properly,
wouldn't you? What are you talking about? Trumbo,
did you ever tell Susan here about the machine?
Yes, sort of, but not how to work it. I hadn't
finished it then. But she was smart enough to
know how it could be used. You're just guessing.
True. But then came the monkey wrench. Trumbull
began dating Edith Rogers. I didn't care! Not
until she bought that wedding band. Now why would
that girl buy her own ring? You know why. Because
no woman would go to a doctor for that kind of
an examination without the necessary decoration
on her finger. What's that to do with me? While
Janine thought it was the professor, you thought
it was Jimmy Trumbull who might be the father.
First you threatened Edith Rogers. But when Jimmy
tried seeing her again, you took no chances of
ever losing that machine, and you just removed
her from the scene. You're crazy! Not crazy enough
to use a machine I knew nothing about, because
that's what you did. You know your biggest mistake
was in tying Edith Rogers' hands over her head
before opening that machine full blast? Those
hands were protected by the lead shield over
her head. Of course! Only the lead shield could
have saved those hands. kept them from dating
back. The result? A 2 ,500 -year -old skeleton
with Edith Rogers' hands. Okay, detective. Who
saw me? Where's your proof? Yours, where the
only fingerprints found on the bombarding head
Wiley took to Tucson. Susan, you didn't work
that machine without gloves, without protection.
Why? What's wrong with that? Oh, good Lord. You
didn't. What are you saying? Oh, no. Your body's
probably got more than 600 radioactive units
in it right now. You're you're trying to scare
me. It's not true Susan 400 units of fatal help
me got a dose of the same medicine she gave Edith
Rogers. Except in her case, its effects will
be much slower and very much more painful. Sad.
Very sad. But it will save the state a great
deal of money. I'll be back shortly. Here's a
little thought to take to sleep with you. Never
indulge in excesses. Eat moderately, drink moderately,
and murder moderately. Our cast included Louise
Larrabee, Mason Adams, Ralph Bell, Corinne Orr,
Anne Costello, and Christopher Tabori. The entire
production was under the direction of Hyman Brown.
Now... A preview of our next tale. I saw the
glowing tips of two flip cigarettes, and then...
Kiss me, Richard. I'm crazy about you. Stop it!
Stop it! Tom! What are you... Marianne, go inside.
Go inside, I tell you. No, wait a minute. Why?
If you have anything to say, you can say it here
instead of Richard. Go inside! Let go of my arm!
No, listen. You leave her alone. Let go of her!
He broke my grip on her arm and pushed me away.
This shove made me slip to my knees. I came up
swinging at his face. I missed. He pinned my
arms from behind. What's the matter with you?
Are you crazy? I broke out of his grip, stepped
back from him, and fell across the shovel. I
grabbed the handle, jumped up, and swung at Emery.
Too late for me to stop the swing. As she rushed
in between us, the sharp edge of the shovel hit
her in the back of the head. I stood there. Holding
the shovel. Unable to move. Radio Mystery Theater
was sponsored in part by Anheuser -Busch, Inc.
Brewers of Budweiser. This is E .G. Marshall
inviting you to return to our Mystery Theater
for another adventure in the macabre. Until next
time. Pleasant dreams?