Come in. Welcome. I'm E .G. Marshall. Welcome
to the Sound of Suspense. The fear you can hear.
For the next 52 minutes we're going to take you
into the world of mystery, into the world of
terrifying imagination. The story you are going
to hear concerns a question which has been asked
since the first men on earth were born and died.
Is there a life after death? Is there a way to
return from the grave? And if there is, can we
come back in the body? of a living creature?
Even one that has claws instead of fingernails?
Here is one chilling answer. Dr. Singh, you have
to tell me. Could my wife have come back as a
bird, a sparrow, something like that? Well, your
wife was a rather big woman, Mr. Morrisby, in
a physical sense. How about a snake? A seagull?
How about a cat? A great, big, fat cat? A cat!
Our mystery drama, The Return of the Moresby's,
was written especially for the Radio Mystery
Theatre by Henry Slesser and stars Patrick O
'Neill. I'll be back shortly with Act One. Now
here is Act One. Like all murder stories sooner
or later it reaches the office of a daily newspaper.
You wanted to see me chief you bet I want to
see you proudie come in and shut that door I
Bet I know what it's about that story. I filed
on Richard Morris be right. I got a flash for
you proudie This is a newspaper office not a
fiction magazine You take this story of yours
and see if you can sell it to Weirdo Digest or
something. But get it off my desk. Now, wait
a while, Max. I know it's off beat, but I thought
I handled it with a... with a kind of a light
touch. Stories about murder can't be handled
with a light touch. Not on this paper. But it's
accurate. I mean, this is exactly what the guy
Moresby told me. Just before he died. Well, he
must have been out of his head. He asked for
somebody to hear his story. That's how I got
to meet him. I was at the hospital covering that
subway accident. Now, that story made sense to
me. Nothing but nice, clear facts. But this nonsense...
Please, let me tell you about this guy. Maybe
you'll change your mind. All right, what about
him? Well, for one thing, he was a real distinguished
looking guy. The only thing peculiar about him
was his eyes. His eyes? Yeah. They were the palest
blue eyes I ever saw on a man. They weren't really
blue at all. They were like silver. Big deal.
So he had silver eyes. And when he started to
tell me about himself, well, I just had to hear
the whole story, Chief. Yes, I was born in London,
but my family moved to the States when I was
young. They didn't improve much on the climate
when they did. We lived in Vermont. I don't think
I was ever warm enough until the age of 24 when
I moved to Southern California. I lived on beaches.
A superb swimmer, a superior surfboarder. and
a terrible bum. It was on the beach at Malibu
that I met the woman who was to become my wife.
Her name was Una. She was as pale as a gardenia,
a gardenia with bones. Una had more bones than
any other woman I've ever met. Lovely day, isn't
it? I beg your pardon? I said it's a beautiful
day. I don't think I've ever seen the ocean look
prettier. Frankly, the Pacific always looked
a little muddy to me. I wonder if that's what
Balboa said when he first saw it. Oh, he probably
said what a great place for surfing. Ah, I see
you have a surfboard. Yes, as a matter of fact,
I think I see a wave that I like. Will you excuse
me? I wish I had the nerve to try it. Yeah, you
really should. Well, bye now. Maybe I'll ask
my chauffeur to teach me. I'm sorry. What did
you say? Charles, my chauffeur. He's very good
at sports. You know, come to think of it, that
wave doesn't look so good after all. By the way,
my name is Richard. Richard Morse. How do you
do? My name is Una. Una van der Meijer. That
was her name. As soon as I realized that she
was from the van der Meijer family, she didn't
seem half as bony as she did before. In fact,
not only did I become accustomed to Una's appearance,
I was even able to tolerate her inane conversation.
Can't you just feel the mystery of the stars,
Richard? Sometimes I feel their vibrations as
if they're trying to communicate with me. Do
you ever feel that? Well, sometimes, I suppose.
I really think we must be one with the universe,
don't you? I really believe there's just... One
great universal soul and we're all part of it.
Don't you think so too? Yes, of course right
on as they say You see what I mean she talked
that way all the time from the first day of our
honeymoon Well, it was a fine honeymoon just
the same it lasted a whole year On the beaches
of the Caribbean, on the French Riviera, I got
browner and browner. Una got freckles. Finally
we returned to our home in Los Angeles and settled
down to a quiet, comfortable marriage. What on
earth is that you're playing? It's sitar music,
darling. Oh, it's just so spiritual. What? What
made you buy the record? Dr. Singh recommended
it. Who? Dr. Singh. At the temple of metapsychosis,
you know. The temple of what? Metapsychosis.
I told you about joining the temple last week.
Oh, Richard, sometimes I think you don't listen
to me. Now, as you may know. Southern California
abounds in quasi religious organizations And
she'd gone through a number of them without discovering
the universal soul at any of their altars darling
Please come to one of dr. Singh's lectures. He's
such a magnificent speaker. He emits such vibrations
And I went you see what an obliging husband I
was Actually, it turned out to be more interesting
than I thought. The temple itself was unpretentious,
and Dr. Singh was an impressive man. And when
he spoke, I realized why his message had such
appeal for Una because he preached a doctrine
that combined eternal life with a love of small
animals. The soul is immortal. The soul cannot
die. The soul upon leaving the body must make
its passage elsewhere. There is a science called
eschatology which deals with the last four things.
Death, judgment, heaven and hell. It is the most
ancient of all sciences and from its wisdom has
come the inescapable certainty of the transmigration
of souls. Yeah, yeah, I know it's a bit weird
but stay with it. And where does the soul go?
According to the wise men of all generations
past, the soul departs from the mouth of the
dying. It is consequently a small thing. A bird,
a snake, a mouse, a dove, or a hawk, a dog, a
cat, an insect. For these small creations of
God are empty vessels placed upon earth for only
one purpose. To house the departing souls of
humanity. so that they need not wander forever
in a trackless eternity. Yeah, yeah, it's pure
rot, of course. But that's what the man said.
And Una sat there and believed every single word.
Oh, wasn't he marvelous, Richard? Isn't it wonderful
that the soul never dies? that we can all come
back as little animals. I'm not sure I want to
come back as an animal. But you'd still be you,
Richard. Oh, don't you see? Well, by the way,
what was that envelope you handed Dr. Singh after
the meeting? The envelope? That was my donation,
of course. Your donation to the temple? Yes,
to support the work of Dr. Singh. To open other
temples around the world. Well, how much money
was in the envelope? What does it matter, Richard?
I'm just curious. Two thousand dollars. To...
to Una. Una, you go to that temple once a week.
Do you always give that kind of donation? Oh,
it's all in a very good cause, Richard. Well,
in an equally good cause, that of finding out
exactly how much of my wife's money was supporting
this nonsense, I sneaked a look at Una's checkbook.
The answer astonished me. Not only had my wife
put more than $30 ,000 into Dr. Singh's collection
plate, she had also donated some 20 ,000 more
to various institutions for the care and feeding
of cats, dogs, and birds. It was so kind of you
to honor us with a visit, Dr. Singh. I know how
terribly busy you are. On the contrary. You were
kind to invite me to your lovely home. Now tell
me, Dr. Singh, what determines the kind of animal
one becomes when the soul escapes after death?
Ah, Mrs. Morrisby, that is a question which has
baffled wise men for countless generations. But
isn't it possible to do, well, research? Yes,
Mrs. Morrisby. I don't doubt that we could find
the answer to such great questions if only we
had the proper resources. But, unfortunately,
that would require money. A great deal more money
than the movement has at present. Well, it seems
to me you don't do badly. Well, there you are.
Hello, Richard. Where have you been all morning?
Right here, in my little sewing room. Don't tell
me you were sewing. Oh, don't be silly. Actually,
I've been composing something. A letter? Oh,
something more important than that. Richard,
do you realize that I have no last will and testament?
Well, why should you? Healthy young chicken like
you. I can't call myself young anymore, Richard.
You'll always be young to me, darling. Oh, that's
very sweet. But just the same. It's only practical
to have a will. Would you read it over, Richard,
and see if it... Well, if it sounds legal enough?
Certainly. Now, let's see now. I, Una Vandermeier
Morsby, a resident of the city of Los Angeles,
state of California, residing at 8 Sheridan Drive,
being over the age of 21 and of sound and disposing
mind and memory. Darling, this is superb. Where
on earth did you get the language? Well, to tell
you the truth, I copied it out of daddy's will.
The one that left you 10 million? Yes. Well,
I don't see how you could go wrong. Let's see
now. Not acting under duress, menace, fraud or
undue influence of any person, whosoever... Good
Lord! Una! What is it? What? You're not serious
about this. Oh, about making a will? Well, of
course I am. I mean, this bequest to the temple,
a mumbo jumbo. What's wrong with it? Now listen,
darling, I told you how important Dr. Singh's
work is, but it requires money to carry it on.
Tons of money. So the least I can do is to help
the poor man as much as I can. But you're giving
him 90 % of your entire fortune. Ah, you'll still
have a million dollars if I go first, Richard.
Isn't that enough? No, it isn't. I mean, the
whole thing is ridiculous. Don't you realize
that man is a fraud, a charlatan? What? For heaven's
sake, open your eyes. Don't you realize the simple
truth? Your money won't build any temples. It's
just going to line the pockets of that turban
phony. Richard, what a terrible thing to say.
Well, you told me you liked Dr. Singh, that you
were very impressed by his theory of transmigration.
Darling, I was only saying all that to please
you. But now I'm telling you that the only thing
Dr. Singh is planning to transmigrate is your
money into his savings account. And frankly,
I'm not gonna let him do it. Richard, what are
you doing? You're tearing up my will. That's
right. How dare you do such a thing? It's my
money and I'll do whatever I please with it.
Oh, no. Darling, I just want you to have a chance
to come to your senses. Well, there's nothing
wrong with my senses. I can see very clearly
what the real trouble is. If I... didn't leave
a will, all my money would go to you, wouldn't
it? Well, naturally, I'm your husband. You don't
have any other elements. That's why you're acting
this way. It's just plain and simple grief. Oh,
now listen to me. No, it's all right. It's all
right. I'm glad you tore up that will, Richard,
because I realize now that I was quite wrong.
Do you? Yes. It's a mistake to leave only nine
million of my money to the temple. I'm going
to leave all of it to Dr. Singh. When Una actually
drafted that incredible document and called our
attorney for a Monday morning appointment, I
realized that I had to do something very drastic
before the weekend was over. I had to kill my
poor misguided wife. I had to make her one with
the universe. It's obvious that Mr. Morsby is
going to be a very reluctant murderer. The question
is, will his reluctance get in the way of his
efficiency? We'll get the details when we return
shortly with Act Two. Now let's return to Richard
Morsby. In order to find him, we'll have to search
the highway, for Richard has taken his white
jaguar out for a spin. But there he is now. On
Saturday morning, I took a little spin in my
ex -kayala and did some thinking on the open
road. I didn't want to kill poor Una, of course.
The whole idea was repellent. But on the other
hand... The thought of Dr. Singh spending the
fortune that was rightfully mine was even more
abhorrent. However, I decided I would make one
more stab at a reconciliation. Darling, may I
come in? It's your living room, too. It doesn't
feel like it. Matter of fact, I've felt like
a stranger in this house for the past two days.
I suppose that's my fault. Well, you haven't
been exactly cordial, have you? I've hardly been
home, Richard. I spent all day yesterday at the
temple and all morning at the pet breast kennels.
And how are all the little souls doing? You just
won't stop being a reverend, will you? It's been
my money all along hasn't it Richard from the
very beginning you were attracted to my money
Now darling if you thought that you would never
have married I didn't want to believe it. I don't
want to leave it now How can I prove to you that
you're mistaken? Richard you really want to prove
it of course. I'll do anything you say all right
Now I know exactly what you can do You can let
me leave my money to dr. Singh and the temple
the whole 10 million Yes, because that's the
only way I'll know that it's me you love Well,
you can't say I didn't try but owners decision
now left me with absolutely no alternative I
was still deeply unhappy about the necessity
of taking a life However, fate was crying to
me that very afternoon. Now, are you sure that
you want me to continue reading, Richard? Of
course, darling. Well, I'm sort of embarrassed
about this part. It's a paper that I wrote myself.
Oh, something you wrote? Yeah, I wrote it this
morning. I was going to show it to Dr. Singh.
It's a... Well, sort of a... poem it's called
death snappy title i can read my own handwriting
death has become nothing to me death holds no
fear for me come death i welcome you lead me
to the woods the waters the air above the earth
come Take me death. Your touch is kind. Richard?
Oh, Richard, why do you look like that? Is it
really that terrible? Oh, terrible. Oh, my darling,
it's beautiful. Do you mean it? You must give
it to me. I must have it. You like it that much?
Yes, I certainly do. I'll type it up for you,
Richard. No, no, I must have the original. Now,
just the way you wrote it. Oh, darling, I'm so
flattered. What will you do with it? Oh, I'm
going to put it in a frame, of course. And I
know just where I'm going to hang it. Yes, I
could hardly believe my ears. Puma had written
her own suicide note and her own handwriting.
It was truly karma at work. Now there was no
question of failure and no longer any need for
delay. Oh, what a lovely idea this was, Richard.
Candlelight dinner for two. Yes, yes. I thought
you'd enjoy it. It's so sweet of you to handle
the whole menu with Cook. You spoil me shamefully.
And that night, I spoiled her just a bit more
by bringing hot cocoa to her in bed. Oh, Richard,
you shouldn't have bothered. But I know how you
like your hot cocoa before retiring, only you
can't get to sleep without it. No, but Parker
could have brought it to me. Oh, no, this is
something I had to do myself. Drink it down now.
Yes. I'm drinking it. Does it taste all right?
Oh, it tastes just fine. Now that was very good
news, because I'd prepared the hot cocoa myself,
and I had no idea whether 25 melted sleeping
pills would seriously affect the flavor. Finally,
Una was all tucked in for the night. I went into
my study, picked up the poem she had written
for Dr. Singh, and brought it to the bedroom.
I placed it carefully on the night table beside
her. Then I bent over my sleeping darling to
see if she was getting along all right. She was
very, very quiet. And then, a dreadful thing
happened. Una opened her eyes. Now go, go back
to sleep. Richard, I'm sick. No, no, no, my love.
No, no, no. You're only sleepy. Go, go. Taste
it. So strange. I didn't want to upset you, Richard.
I'm sick. You'll feel much better in the morning.
I promise you, tomorrow morning you'll be one
with the universe. Richard, that paper. What
paper, darling? It's my... My my poem doctor
sing. What's it doing? I will I was just just
reading it over darling. That's all and bottle
my Sleeping pills. Oh, it's it's empty the bottle
is empty Have you done nothing darling nothing
now go just go to sleep Put sleeping pills in
it all of them and don't try to get up. Oh, no,
please I don't don't don't trying to kill me
Now for heaven heaven's sake now stop saying
things like that you want the servants to hear
Come on lie down lie down. Oh no for heaven's
sake. Come on now. Let lie down That's that's
better you won't get away with it. You won't
get away with it, Richard. I promise you. Anything
you say, darling. I'll come back, Richard. You
know I'll be back. Yes. Yes, of course. Just
welcome death, Una, the way you wrote in your
little poem. I'll be back. The funeral was held
two days later. It was a magnificent occasion,
of course. I gave one a farewell that was consistent
with her vast fortune. Everything was the best.
Coffin, flowers, preacher, everything. Her burial
place was one of the choicest bits of real estate
at Forest Lawn. The only discordant note was
the fact that Dr. Singh insisted on saying a
few words at the service. They were familiar
words, but Frankly, they gave me a slight bit
of a chill. The body of Una Morsby is dead, but
her soul lives on. The soul cannot die. The soul
is immortal. It has left the earthly remains
of this woman and has sought the body of a small
living thing. There it will abide until the Almighty
is ready to choose its next home. Mourn not.
the end of Una Morrisby, for there is no end.
I couldn't help congratulating myself on how
well everything had gone. When I called for medical
attention the night of Una's death, the physician
was only too ready to declare her a suicide.
The police had to be informed naturally, and
they too agreed with the doctor's verdict. Una
had died by her own hand, and she had died without
a will. There was simply no question that the
matter would be probated in my favor. Suddenly
I realized I was not only rich, but a rich widower.
What fist is open for me? The devil, look out,
you stupid mongrel! Hey, dog, trying to get run
over. I admit I was shaken up by it. I mean,
it was sort of a coincidence, you know? Right
after the funeral and all that. to be home again,
you can be sure. Excuse me, Mr. Morsby? Yes,
Parker? Cook is worried about the raccoon, sir.
The what? There's been a raccoon at the kitchen
door all morning, and Cook is badly alarmed,
I'm afraid. I've tried to scare it away, but
it keeps returning. A raccoon, for heaven's sake?
Why don't you just shoot it and make a code out
of it? I was wondering if you wished me to call
the game warden, sir. Please, Parker, do whatever
you please about it. I'm going to take a nap.
Yes, sir. Very good, sir. I went upstairs at
once, undressed, and got into bed. It was a warm
day, and yet... yet I found myself cold. I got
out the electric blanket and... Soon felt very
cozy indeed in fact. I felt so much better that
I made a phone call Hello may I speak to Rachel,
thank you very much Hello Rachel Rachel you you
probably don't even know my name, but it's it's
Morsby Richard Morsby You met me at the club
numerous times I I'm the rather distinguished
looking gentleman who sits at the table on the
far -right corner Yeah, I know I know it is and
I've always regretted it frankly I would have
enjoyed my lunches at the club even more if you
would serve them Well, what I wanted to find
out was if you're busy this evening Quiet dinner
perhaps Why don't we just wait and see I can
pick you up outside the club whenever you're
free. Yeah, how I know it's you. I mean, I'm
still not sure which gentleman you are. I'll
never be sitting in an XKL Jaguar. Do you think
you'll recognize it? Jack? I get off at 6 .30.
See you then. Yes, I was feeling very good now.
Very good indeed. I would have drifted off into
a... pleasant sleep except for one thing. The
moment I thought a bomb had gone off in the room,
then I realized it was nothing more than a bird.
A foolish sparrow had dived in headfirst into
the plate glass window of the bedroom and now
lay stunned on the carpet. I looked at the things
fluttering little heart and suddenly I was struck
by a terrifying palpitation of my own. The dog,
the raccoon, the bird, Good Lord! Could one of
them have been... Una? Has Una Morsby returned
from the grave? Nonsense! Such things don't really
happen. But perhaps we should reserve judgment
until I return shortly with Act III. Now let's
see if common sense has returned to our hero.
He's doing a sensible thing right now. He's taking
a good, refreshing shower. By the time evening
came, I was feeling better. All my peculiar notions
about Uno's animal reincarnation seemed ludicrous
as I stood in front of the shaving mirror. I
thought about the delicious young woman that
was waiting for me at the club. I'd admired Rachel's
way with a tray for months, but ever faithful
to my wife I hadn't done more than gaze from
afar. But now things were gonna be different.
Yes, who is it? It's Parker, sir. Yes, come in
Parker. It's all right. Excuse me, sir. A bit
of emergency in the kitchen. Well, what is it?
A snake, sir. A what? Cook insists that there's
a snake curled up in the telephone wire. Oh,
that's ridiculous, Parker. Cook says it's there,
Mr. Mordby. They do get into the house sometimes.
Tell Cook she's seeing things. Tell her to stop
nipping at the cooking, Sherry, and she'll soon
stop seeing snakes. Yes, sir. What was that?
I would guess it was Cook, sir. Oh, for heaven's
sake, go down and see to it, Parker. I'll try,
sir. But I'm not very good with snakes, sir.
Well, what do you think I am, an expert? But
that wasn't the end of it. Ten minutes later,
Parker was back upstairs saying that the snake
had left the kitchen and run into the living
room. No, I suppose snakes don't run, they slither.
It slithered into the living room and was now
embracing still another telephone wire, obviously
mistaking it for a long -lost love. But then...
another... another unsettling thought came into
my mind. What if the... what if the snake...
No, no, that... that was ridiculous. Hello? Hi.
Is this Mr. Moresby? Yes, who's this? Rachel,
from the club. Oh, yes, Rachel. What is it? Listen...
Yes, fine, I'll be there as soon as I can. In
the Jaguar, right? Yes, yes, in the Jaguar. Listen,
the reason I want to leave earlier is because
my husband always picks me up at 6 .30. What
was that? So I asked one of the girls I work
with to tell him that I got another job someplace.
He won't care. He likes me to earn extra money.
Yes, I see. So, just to make the story look good,
I guess you'll have to lend me a few dollars
after our date. Yes. Of course. And listen, I
really do remember you, Suga. You're the handsome
one with the cute bald head. See you soon. As
it happens, I have a very full head of hair.
But distressing as Rachel's telephone call was,
an even more disturbing thought intruded. The
snake was in the telephone wire. What if the
snake had been trying to listen in on the extension
phone I? Knew the idea was absurd, but I I couldn't
help the superstitious shiver of dread In fact,
I was so troubled that I I decided to forego
my date with Rachel the waitress it wouldn't
matter anyway she She'd be angry at some man
at the club with a cute bald head The next day
I did the only thing that really relaxed me.
I went to the beach. It proved to be an excellent
idea. I stretched out on the golden sand and
let the sun warm me. I listened to the waves
beating against the shore. I listened to the
haunting cries of seagulls circling overhead.
Suddenly I was aware that the gulls which had
been hovering over the water were now hovering
over me. Instead of the cries being sad and plaintive,
now they seemed menacing. I stood up hastily,
but the gulls seemed to be increasing in number.
I saw their sharp, pointy beaks, their raking
claws. They were predators, of course. How many
times had I seen them swoop into a dive and snatch
up some poor fish out of the sea? And there was
one sea gull in particular. Its beady eyes seemed
to be staring at me. No, it was my imagination.
Of course, I wasn't a fish. I was a man. But
just the same, I found myself running down the
beach. Running for dear life. And that's when
I knew it was time to see a doctor. Yes, Mr.
Moulty. I'm very pleased that you honored the
temple with your presence. I'm grateful that
you're willing to see me, Dr. Singh. I realized
that, well, you had a disappointment. A disappointment?
I'm afraid I don't understand. I know my wife
made certain promises to you concerning her will.
I believe she mentioned some modest donation.
She wasn't in her right mind, of course. I mean,
when she took those sleeping pills. Yes, it was
very sad. I trust that she has found the peace
and happiness. That you thought. Frankly, that's
what I wanted to talk to you about. I mean, about
whether you really believe that my wife is...
Well, that she's some kind of animal right now.
But of course I believe it, Mr. Morsby. I don't
merely believe. I'm positive. When your wife
passed from this world into the next, her soul
made its escape. Yes, yes, I know how it goes,
but... What I really like your opinion about
is what sort of animal do you think she might
be now? I told you, Mr. Morsby, we have no way
of knowing. But can't you take a guess? I mean,
you said it might be influenced by a person's
karma. Am I quoting you right? Yes. The kind
of person she was in life may well determine
the kind of animal she is now. Your wife was
soft. Your wife was gentle. Your wife was independent
of spirit. Now, what animal does that remind
you of? I don't know. I can't think. Then go
home and think about it, Mr. Morsby. Go home
and try to be one with the universe. I went home
and I tried to be one with the universe. And
when that didn't work... I tried being one with
a bottle of scotch. I was still in the library
asleep in the big leather chair when I heard
the noise in the cellar. I simply had to investigate.
I looked into the cellar and found that one bare
bulb wasn't enough for a thorough search. I found
a flashlight and went down the cellar steps.
At first, first there was nothing I could see.
But then, with an empty oil can, swiftly my flashlight
picked out the culprit. At first I thought it
would turn out to be a mouse, but instead, instead
it was a large white cat. I don't like cats.
I never had skulking cynical creatures. When
the beam of my flashlight hit it, the cat froze.
I saw it was an alley cat. It's fur shaggy. It's
eyes baleful in the light. It was fat, and yet
it was bony too. I said scat, but it didn't scat.
Instead it started to walk toward me. And I knew
for certain what Dr. Singh had meant. I knew
for certain I was looking at the reincarnation
of my wife. As soon as that... hideous apparition
howled at me. I made a cowardly dash for the
cellar door. Once I was on the other side, I
remembered the hunting rifle that Una had given
me for Christmas. It stood unused in an upstairs
closet. I found it. I loaded it and brought it
back to the cellar. I hadn't fired a rifle since
boyhood. I stood on the top of the stairs with
my Flashlight picked out the ghostly white form
of the cat. I put down the light, raised the
weapon, and squeezed the trigger. The report
was deafening, but the recoil was worse. My precarious
balance on the top step was lost. I fell to the
bottom. I tried to get up again. The pain in
my right leg was agonizing. I found out later
that it was broken. But the cat, the cat was
still alive. And it was regarding me at eye level
now. Its fur matted with plaster dust. Its eyes
filled with hatred. I tried to crawl toward my
fallen rifle. Just as I saw the creature advancing
toward me, I screamed. The rifle now grasping
it. Too quickly in my panic, my fingers touched
the trigger, the rifle went off again. So that's
how Morsby ended up in the hospital, Chief. With
a broken leg and a bullet in his hip. And then
he died. But I think he was telling the truth.
You could see it in his eyes. His silver eyes,
right? Yeah, his silver eyes. And you really
believe that the guy's wife came back as a cat
to get her revenge? What does it matter? It's
still a good story. Sorry, Prouty, I can't okay
it. Well, what if I got more details? What if
I talked to this Dr. Singh? If I went to the
Moresby cellar and found that cat? And what would
you do then? Ask her if she's Mrs. Moresby? I
still think it's worth a try, Chief. I'll tell
you what, Prouty. What are you doing for lunch?
I hadn't thought about it. Well, think about
buying my lunch. You? There's a pretty good restaurant
right around the corner where the Moresby's lived.
Now we can get a bite there and then check out
that cellar. So, uh, this is where it happened,
huh? Moresby fell from these steps when he fired
that rifle. Hey, you can still see the plaster
dust where the bullet hit. Yeah, I see it. But
I don't see any white cat. It might be hiding
someplace. Or it might be a figment of his imagination.
Maybe so. Hold it. Did you hear something? No.
Listen. There it is. Look. Hmm. It's a cat, all
right. And it looks like it just found its supper.
That mouse is still alive. Yeah, but not for
long. Look at it squirm. He's eating it. Yep,
and there goes your mouse. Oh, my God. What's
the matter, Prolly? Never see a cat eat a mouse
before? Chief, did you see that mouse? Sure I
saw it. But didn't you notice something? Like
what? Its eyes. Chief, did you ever see a mouse
with eyes like that? They were so pale blue,
they were almost... silver. And so the cat and
mouse game comes to an end. But according to
Dr. Singh, there is no end. Perhaps Richard Moresby
will have his turn next in another afterlife.
I'll be back in a few moments. Do you believe
in reincarnation? Do you believe the dead return?
We have to believe it, because here we are, the
reincarnation of radio drama. We hope you'll
keep us alive by listening again to the radio
mystery theater. Our cast included Patrick O
'Neill, Marion Seldes, Nick Pryor, and Dan Ako.
The entire production was under the direction
of Hyman Brown. This is E .G. Marshall inviting
you to return to our mystery theater for another
adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant
dreams.