Come in. Welcome. I'm E .G. Marshall. Welcome
to another hour of mystery and suspense. To a
terrifying battle of wits. Our play poses a dilemma
you have never faced or are likely to face in
your lifetime. Whether to commit the murder in
your heart when your mind tells you to restrain
yourself. Listen to what happened to one man,
Thomas Drake, who did face that dilemma, and
what he did about it. Professor Mallory, if you're
a friend of Emory's, you've got to tell him to
stay away from my wife. Really now, Drake, I
don't like being a fear in the personal life
of faculty. You must. You must tell him, or I
won't be responsible. I... I don't want to kill
him. But I don't trust myself. Come now, Drake.
Sensible people don't solve their marital problems
like that. With murder. Our mystery drama, Under
Grave Suspicion, was written especially for the
Mystery Theater by Hank Warner and stars Ralph
Bell. I'll be back shortly with Act One. Have
you ever returned home late one night and listened
in the still darkness, tense and trembling, hoping
and praying that you would not hear the whispered
passions of your wife? and the stranger fearful
that you could not would not control a blinding
fury to kill that man getting out of the car
on that dark dead -end road on the windswept
bluff overlooking the desolate Long Island Sound
Beach hurrying by cloud -veiled moonlight down
the winding footpath through the scrub pines
and brush to his isolated cottage is Thomas Drake,
despondent, depressed. I should have telephoned,
given her some warning that I'd be home a night
earlier. But deep down, I had the feeling that
I still couldn't trust her. And I had to find
out. I hurried towards the cottage, wondering
why there were no lights on, wondering whether
she was asleep, alone, or with. I walked around
from the back of the house, across the gravel
mound, toward the water side port steps, not
caring whether the crunch of my footsteps could
be heard inside. The only other sound was my
pounding heart, and the surf washing the loose
gravel off the burn. The half moon slipped behind
a bank of black clouds, and in the darkness I
drift over the shovel, left lying on the gravel.
I kicked it away. I went up the porch steps to
the front door. I tried it. It was not locked.
I stepped inside and listened. I called out,
Marianne. The bedroom door was closed. I opened
the door. I stabbed at the wall switch. The ceiling
flooded. An empty made -up bed. I went to the
kitchen. Turned on the light. It was swept and
tidy. The counter, the sink, the stove top bare
and dry. Not a trace of food particles. No lingering
cooking odors. The dish mop, dish towel, bone
dry. I needed a drink. to calm down I reached
for the bottle of bourbon in the kitchen cabinet
poured myself a stiff one wondering where she
was the drink only added fuel to my slow burn
I flushed with waves of anger I had to get out
in the air to think I put out the house lights
carry the bottle in the glass of the porch and
settle down to wait. The cool onshore wind on
my face. The moon playing hide and seek with
the dark clouds. The lights of Connecticut blinking
across ten miles of black water. The old field
light alternating beams of green and red. It
was restful. But as I nursed the bourbon... I
couldn't altogether get her out of my mind. My
thoughts wandering back in time. Wondering if
she'd left me or would once again like the first
time before we were married. We're living together
in my apartment on Manhattan's swinging east
side. Two modern sensible singles willing to
give it a try. I had a job then. Good job. I
was the vice president with electronics engineering.
I got home that night. It was Friday night, about
eight o 'clock. And as I let myself in. Yes,
Steve. I heard her talking on the phone. Come
on up, Jack. Oh, ask the doorman to hold the
cab. He just got home. Oh, who was that, Jack
Harrison? Of course. Well? You know, I'm getting
tired of his hanging around. Why don't you tell
him to stop calling you? He didn't. I called
him. You look so surprised, Thomas. You don't
have the time anymore for anything but dear old
electronics engineering. If you did phone me,
you wouldn't be home for dinner, so I called
him. There's a movie I want to see. That's the
third time this week. Oh, I didn't know you were
counting, darling. watching television, dozing
pitfully. My mind going back to the smiles and
looks they had exchanged as they left. I could
see them after the movies going to the purple
camellia for nightcaps and the wild rock of the
patting cougars and then senses stimulated bodies
pulsating with savage beats to spend the night
with him. I was awakened from my sleep in the
chair by the buzzing TV set. It was four o 'clock.
I fought off the idea of phoning her at Harrison's
apartment. I had no one but myself to blame.
We had agreed, like two sensible moderns, that
there'd be no strings, that we'd be free to live
our own lives. And for the first time, I admitted
to myself, I didn't want that freedom. By ten
o 'clock that morning, I couldn't stand it. I
phoned Harrison's apartment. There was no answer.
I went down to the lobby reception desk to get
the mail. It hadn't arrived yet. But the clerk
handed me an unstamped envelope, my name and
apartment number on it, in Marianne's handwriting.
I tore it open. There was no date on the plain
white note paper. No imprint of name and address,
no forwarding address. Just signed Marianne.
I refused to believe it. I hurried right back
up to the apartment to her bedroom closet. Her
clothes were gone. I got through the day somehow
in a daze. But the next day, when I went out
to get the Sunday paper and returned to the apartment...
There she was unpacking I changed my mind Let's
have a drink Want to tell me There's not much
to tell He told me he has a wife three children
in Connecticut that she won't let him go He couldn't
marry me Marry you You want to get married? Is
that all? You want to get married? Will you marry
me? Yeah. Once again, like two sensible moderns,
we adjusted to marriage. We seemed to be making
a go of it. Until I lost my job and the cutbacks
of government contracts. We subleased the apartment,
moved to the cottage to make the rounds of electronic
firms on Long Island. I sat there on the porch,
waiting. Once again, looking up and down the
beach. And suddenly I saw a flashlight about
100 yards down the beach. It moved around, but
it did not advance. And then it went out. I listened.
The punch of footsteps on gravel carried by the
wind grew louder. I could make out the silhouettes
of a man and a fishing rod on his shoulder. He
was alone, hugging the waterline. As he came
abreast I called out a lock It was professor
Maori of the State University Marine Laboratory
at nearby Flax Pond another thing I was hoping
to pick up a sniper Line got snarled in the real
to tangle to bother with tonight. I'm just having
a nightcap here to join me professor. I Yeah,
I could stand one short one getting a bit nippy
He sipped his whiskey. I don't know how many
I had. He talked about projects at the Marine
Lab, the need for more state funds for research
on wetlands, water pollution, erosion. He knew
I was trying to get relocated, had given me a
letter to an executive at the Grumman plant.
Hear anything from Grumman? No, not a thing.
I'm about exhausted the job possibilities on
Long Island I spent yesterday and today in New
England. Well, thanks for the drink. I'm sure
the job market will open up. Say hello to Mrs.
Drake. Dr. Mallory. Yes? Would you do me a favor?
Favor? Are you a friend of Emory, Richard Emory?
I know you know him. But are you a friend of
his? Well, he's one of several new young chaps
doing post -doctorate work at the Marine Lab.
It's a small group and we're all more or less
friendly. I mean you as a friend Listen, yes
Tell him to stay away from my wife. Well Emory
your wife. That's right Don't ask me how I know
Little things I know I I come home tonight. She's
not home. I know About the personal matter, I
don't feel I have the right to meddle in the
personal affairs of a faculty member. If he doesn't,
I'll kill him. Now, Drake, don't talk like that.
Sensible people don't solve such problems like
that. That's what I always thought, but now I...
Look, Drake, if you don't mind my giving you
some advice, why don't you just get a divorce
or a separation? You just tell Emory to stay
away from her. You must tell her Mary you must
I don't want to kill it, but I'm afraid But they're
breaking point You tell him Mallory tell him
if you don't You'll share the responsibility
now Tom. You're overwrought. You feel better
in the morning All right, I'll talk to Emory.
Thanks. Good night Tom It still had about one
drink in it. I walked down to the water line.
I swallowed what was left in the bottle, and
with swelling anger I flunked it into the waves.
I turned back towards the cottage and stopped.
I saw a flashlight down the beach. I could make
out two persons walking towards me, and then
the light was out. and silhouetted against the
night sky two forms embraced as one and then
carried by the wind rising out of the northeast
i heard the teasing laughter of marianne well
there may be laughter in the wind but for poor
tom this is no time for levity Wonder whether
he knows that it's an ill wind and will blow
him no good I'll be back shortly with act two
Now what's a fella to do poor Tom Drake is in
the dark and all at sea Wondering where he ought
to be or not to be. But let's not blow the man
down. Just lend me your ears and we'll listen.
Their embrace of the dark was brief. And they
started walking towards the cottage without using
the flashlight. For a split second I thought
of walking towards them for a showdown. But Mallory's
promise to talk to Emory made me put aside the
impulse. I ducked behind the line of boulders
that formed a breakwater above a high -water
line. They stopped in front of the cottage. From
behind the boulders, I watched and listened.
That was a good hike. Yeah. Let's go inside.
Let's sit out here for a while. It's such a beautiful
night. I'd like a cigarette. Okay. down beside
her, struck a match, cupped it in his hands and
held it to the cigarette in her lips. In the
glow from the match flame, her face flushed,
her eyes dreamy with desire. I knew I would never
give her up. I'm going out to Montauk next week.
It's a long Monday holiday weekend. How about
coming with me? I'd love to, but I have to figure
out some excuse to be away. That shouldn't be
any problem. You're pretty clever about such
things. Now think of something. I couldn't help
thinking she was pretty clever about such things.
Like the night she went with that very clever
Harrison leading her on. I'd never forget that
Friday night. And now, another Friday night.
Come on, let's go inside. You said he won't be
back tonight. Oh, relax, Richard. You mean to
tell me you prefer this cold gravel to a nice,
comfortable couch? Come on, Diane. Oh, what's
wrong with staying out here? Oh, Mark, I am most
content with a jug of wine, a loaf of bread beneath
a bough. Oh, not bad, not bad. The laughter broke
off suddenly. I saw the growing tips of two flip
cigarettes, and then... Kiss me, Richard. Stop
it! Stop it, Tom! What are you... Marianne, go
inside. Go inside, I tell you. Why? If you have
anything to say, you can say it here, in front
of Richard. Go inside? Now listen, you leave
her alone, let go of her! He broke my grip on
the wrong 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.
Well, listen. 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. No! No! And swung at Emery.
Too late for me to stop the swing. No! As she
rushed in between us, the sharp edge of the shovel
hit her in the back of the head. Oh my God. I
stood there, holding the shovel, unable to move.
My eyes fixed on her face as Emery knelt down
over her with a flashlight. I watched her face
and prayed, prayed she wouldn't die. I trembled
with fear and anguish, telling myself this couldn't
be. It was a nightmare. Emery turned the flashlight
on me. Studied my trembling lips my glazed eyes
fixed on Marianne she's She is dead I heard him
but didn't answer I Couldn't take my eyes off
Drake. Did you hear what I said? She's dead You
killed her You better go in the house and call
the police. I looked at him puzzled my mind my
eyes my memory playing tricks on me wondering
who he was harrison jack harrison mocking me
the night he took her to the movie telling me
we'll be back what's the matter with you drake
don't you hear me call the police i'll tell them
i'll say it was an accident she tried to stick
i don't think you've heard a word i said I'll
call the police myself. Where are you going,
Harrison? Call the... Who's Harrison? I'm Emory,
Richard Emory. Drake... I'll be right back. Don't
turn your back on me! You look back as I swung
the shovel. His mouth open, his eyes unbelieving.
He went down. I hit him again. for air, my head
pounding, thousands of pinpoints of light exploding
inside my head. I sank down on the steps of the
porch, holding my head in my hands, trying to
clear my head, groping to recall, understand
what had happened to me, to them. Slowly the
horror of it all returned. Marianne was dead.
I turned the other body face up. It was not Harrison.
It was Emory. I don't know how long I sat there
on the port steps. Finally I faced it. I decided
to try to get rid of the bodies. Bury them temporarily
in the gravel berm. I'd have to get a small boat,
that rowboat, in the woods just above the mud
water line, stored by one of these summer residents.
I'd row the bodies out to the channel, weight
them, drop them overboard on an outgoing tide.
The strong current on the bottom of the channel
would move them out to the sea. The loose gravel
was only about three feet deep. It would be deep
enough to hide them. I dragged the bodies over,
laid them into end, covered them, building up
the grapple mound the same height of the burn
that ran parallel to the water level. I inspected
the shovel. The metal glistened clean, no sign
of blood or hair. I stood it against the porch
rail, went inside. I sprawled out on the bed.
exhausted and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
I woke up the next morning about an hour after
sunrise. My mind clear, instantly aware of what
had happened, what I had done. I jumped off the
bed, went to the porch door, looked at the gravel
graves. on the burn it looked natural peaceful
like a cemetery i knew what i had to do i put
on the coffee showered changed my clothes became
aware that her clothes were still hanging in
the closet i got the old note she had left me
on that weekend but harrison read it over and
over as i had my coffee on the kitchen counter
I turned on the radio for the weather. I placed
the note on the counter, carefully spilled a
spoonful of coffee on the counter, wetting a
large corner of the paper, and then blotted it
with a paper towel. I knew I'd have to keep checking
the weather. But first, get rid of her clothes.
I put them in a large plastic garbage bag. I
knew I'd have to stay close to the cottage until
I got rid of the bodies. Lay in a supply of food
so I drove to the supermarket put the clothes
into the collection bin of the Salvation Army
on the parking lot I did my shopping was back
in less than an hour I Went up to where the rowboat
was on the bank of trees It looked all right
Aluminum light enough to drag the oars were in
it and burlap fish bags strong enough to hold
the rocks I'd use for weights I'd have to wait
until dark to move the bodies. In the meantime,
I could move the boat. It was a couple of hundred
yards. I placed the boat on top of the grave.
By nightfall, the Coast Guard was sending out
small craft warnings and all through the night
I was glued to the radio. for weather checks.
Feeling trapped, helpless to do what I had planned,
I finally fell asleep on the couch. I was awakened
by the Sunday morning church music and a loud
knocking at the porch door. I didn't recognize
the voice. I hesitated. The knocking stopped.
Heard him walk down the porch steps. I put on
my shoes went to the door He was sitting on the
edge of the plants of the boat Smoking a cigarette
fishing pole across his knees It was Mallory
He turned didn't wake you did I I? Heard the
radio. I thought I'd stop by You all right, okay
now, but yesterday what ahead All day. How about
some coffee? Oh, thanks for that. Got to get
back to the lab. I didn't know you had a boat.
Oh, it's not mine. Alongs with Johnson's. I saw
a couple of kids dragging it out to the patch
of trees up there. They ran when I started towards
them. Thought I'd better keep it here for them.
I guess it's safe enough here. Unless we get
that hurricane. I'd pull it up on higher ground
if the weather gets worse and... Gilda doesn't
move out see Well glad to see you feeling bad.
Oh dr. Mowry it did Did you get a chance to talk
to Emory? No Matter of fact, I haven't seen him.
I Stopped by his room Friday night after I left
you He wasn't in I Left a note to call me Didn't
hear from him all day Saturday wasn't in Saturday
night Not this room this morning either Not like
him to go off without a word Hmm I've been thinking
over dr. Mario. It's uh, it's no use trying memory.
I can't keep it tied to me She's left me. Oh
Did she? I'm sorry Perhaps that why she didn't
get home Friday night. Let me know that Not in
the kitchen Saturday morning Is she leaving you
for Emory? She didn't say. Oh, I see. Well, I'm
sorry, Drake. I really am. Sunday night, I was
still trapped by the weather. It got worse through
the night. The weather report said there still
was a 50 -50 chance that the hurricane would
bypass Long Island. About noon the next day the
wind died down. I stood there by the rowboat
wondering whether I should take the chance in
broad daylight. Long Island Sound was still calm
as a lake. I heard a helicopter coming across
Crane Neck. Routine patrol of the shore I could
read stuff of police and then Dr. Mallory coming
on the beach towards me I Stood there waiting
for him. I'm glad I find you home Drake. Oh,
I just been answering more job ads Yeah, have
you heard from mrs. Drake a letter perhaps phone
call why no I haven't getting really concerned
about emery no one at the lab has seen him or
heard from him for three days this morning i
i looked through his room his clothes his suitcases
were there i can't understand i i was hoping
if you'd heard from mrs drake knew where she
was i'd ask her if she had any idea about where
Emory might be. Well, I do have her mother's
phone number in Ohio and her sister's in Connecticut.
If you don't mind. Do you want to call from here?
Thanks, but I'm on my way to the village hall
to see Police Chief Raymond. I stood there watching
him make his way along the beach to the village
hall at the old field lighthouse, wondering...
Just what he'd tell Chief Raymond. Well, you
know what they say. The path of gory murder leads
but to the grave. What do you suppose will happen
to Tom Drake? Will he be like that comedian who
murdered people with stolen jokes and was hanged
by his wits end? I'll be back shortly with act
three. A lot of most policemen is not a happy
one. Wonder how Police Chief Raymond will receive
Professor Mallorain. Will he use the right bait
and make a haul? Or lose hook, line, and sinker?
Let's follow our troubled professor and find
out. What's this all about? Emma said to tell
me it was urgent. Well, I mean, it's not a matter
of life or death, is it? I hope not. Oh, you
sound like you're not so sure. I'm not, but I
am getting worried. Somebody been, uh, sealing
typewriters and lab equipment again? No, no,
no, no, Chief. I... Well, this may sound odd,
but a member of the lab faculty is, uh, seems
to be missing. Oh? That's, uh, what do you mean,
missing? No one's seen him. since friday afternoon
well this is only monday yes yes but he was not
in his room friday night saturday night sunday
night he didn't show up in the lab today well
what about his weekends did he have them free
well sometimes when scheduled he was not scheduled
to be off this weekend uh -huh the chap he rooms
with garrison says he saw emory friday noon well
garrison was off this past weekend he got back
sunday night I saw Garrison this morning. He
wasn't surprised or upset over the fact that
Emery hadn't spent the night in his room. It
wasn't the first time. Do you know that cottage
the Drake rented? Yes, I do. It belongs to Howard.
Is that the one or about it? Last Friday night,
I was out casting along the beach. On my way
back to the lab... Drake invited me to stop for
a nightcap on the porch. He'd already had quite
a few. I had one drink with him, and he asked
me, was I a friend of Emery's? And he asked me,
the way he put it, would I do him a favor? Mm
-hmm. Go on, go on. What he wanted me to do was
for me to tell Emery to... Stay away from his
wife Now did he explain that he mean emery was
annoying his wife or did he mean they were having
an affair Well, my first impression was that
it was more or less of dalliance Well, that's
kind of par for the course in this university
town, you know, yes perhaps but I I Told him
I prefer not to get involved in personal affairs
of faculty members. What'd he say? He said if
Emory didn't stay away, he'd kill him. His exact
words. Of course, he was very drunk when he said
it. I told Drake to calm him down that I had
talked to Emory. Yes, I see. Well, now what about
Mrs. Drake? Was there anything said to indicate
whether she was inside the cottage while Drake
was... Blowing his top this way to you. No. No,
there were no lights on inside matter of fact
Drake made it clear that she was not home He
implied without mentioning Emory by name That
she was out somewhere with him. Well in that
case she could have some idea about where he
might be That occurred to me. I I Went back there
yesterday morning with that in mind and did she
she wasn't there Drake told me she'd left him
He said she didn't come home at all Friday night
He said he found a note from her in the kitchen
Saturday morning Well, that's quite a coincidence
to say the least did the note say she'd gone
away with Emory Well, Drake didn't show me the
note, but as much as said there was no mention
of Emory You've been to the cottage since yesterday.
I stopped there on my way here Drake says he
hasn't heard a word from her. No mail. No phone
call But I asked him would she perhaps have gone
to her parents home to a relative He gave me
these phone numbers Ohio and Connecticut you
think we ought to call them No No I'll drop in
on Drake. I'd rather he made the call Z If we
can't locate Mrs. Drake, and you don't hear from
memory, that leaves us with two missing persons.
We'll put out in all points teletype, alarm,
full descriptions, and photos. I'll keep you
posted, Mallory. I'll come to the point, Drake.
Mallory, Professor Mallory up at the Marine Lab,
you know, came to see me. And he's a bit worried
about the absence of a faculty member, one Richard
Emery. There's no use being delicate about this,
Drake. From what he told me, it does look like
Emery and your wife ran off together, doesn't
it? Yes. It sure looks like it. Do you mind if
I see that note she left you? Oh, no. Not at
all. It's on the kitchen counter where I found
it. We went into the kitchen. He picked up the
note. Studied it carefully. Looked at the back
of the paper. Felt the coffee stain. When did
you discover this note? Saturday morning. With
that stain, some coffee spilled from my cup as
I was reading it. Oh, I see, I see. You mind
if I look around? Oh, go right ahead. I followed
him into the bedroom. He looked through her dresser
in the closet. The night table. Well, her clothes
are going all right. I was looking for a letter
she might have received from a friend or relative,
you know, inviting her for a visit for a few
days a week. I mean, did she mention such an
invitation to you? No. Well, if she did get such
a letter, she could have taken it with her. I
mean, have you called her parents or her sister?
Well, frankly, no. I was hoping I wouldn't have
to do that, that when she'd come back... Or write
a phone. Well, if they don't turn up in a week
or two, we might perhaps go on the assumption
that they're dead. You see? And start a search
for their bodies. You don't think... Well, look,
Chief, I was drunk when I... Oh, no, no, no.
I don't think you killed them. Of course not.
What would you do with the bodies? Bury them
out there? Let's not get morbid about this. You
don't think I'm going to call out the tractors
to scrape down the gravel, do you? Oh, by the
way, how long are you planning to stay on here?
A couple of weeks. All right, fine. Well, now
keep in touch. I'll call you if anything develops.
Phone me if you get a letter or a call from your
wife. I followed him out. He looked at the rowboat.
He stared at the sky. You know, I'd pull that
little boat up higher beyond that low ground
back of the house. I wouldn't be surprised if
we get some of Hurricane Gilda before night's
over. Better keep the radio set on the Coast
Guard reports. I watched him go down the port
path across the low ground behind the cottage
and then up here to where his car was parked
on top of the bluff. It was not until he was
out of sight that I stopped sweating. Windless,
an oppressive silence hanging over the water
and the land. The sky was sunless, gray, not
a cloud in sight. I'd heard of the calm before
the storm, but I'd never seen it. I filled the
kerosene lanterns, got candles ready. Gale warning,
Cape May to Block Island. Eye -tied through the
four feet above normal with flooding along lowland.
By late afternoon, all up and down the south,
whitecaps galloped shoreward as far as the eye
could see. Tree tops swayed and twisted in the
whistling wind. The waves crashed higher on the
shore. It started to rain hard. Wind swept sheets
of water, lashed the roof, shingled silence.
The lights went off. Violet lanterns and candles.
The door banged open and the wind picked up the
rowboat, sent it rolling side over side across
the low ground behind the house. I stood with
a lantern on the gravel burn, watching the waves
inching closer, lapping the foot of the gravel
mound, loosening gravel in the backwash, and
then I heard the phone ringing. I went to it,
picked it up. Still watching through the open
door, the waves breaking over the gravel. Uh,
hello? Hello, hello, great, this is Police Chief
Raymond. What the hell are you still doing out
there? Didn't you hear the evacuation alert?
The phone fell out of my hand. I saw waves crashing
over the grave and ran out. on the gravel and
sand. As fast as the waves washed it off. But
for every shovel pull I throw in the grave, the
waves washed off too. I lost track of time. I
know I had to keep at it to keep the grave covered.
Heading close to the house, Valerie. over on
the aircraft. State office building tell him
I said I won't be needing those tractors Well
imagine What do you think of that police chief?
Isn't he the fishy character? Anyhow we didn't
have to scrape bottom I'll be back shortly in
a dilemma? We hope you never have to face it.
We can offer some advice, though. When you are
uptight about any matter, nothing like settling
down at your radio and letting the cares of the
day slip away as your mind and ears carry you
off on a relaxing journey of mystery adventure.
Our cast included Ralph Bell, Patricia Wheel,
Robert Dryden and William Redfield. The entire
production was under the direction of Hyman Brown.
Now, a preview of our next tale. Are you all
right, Jerry? Yeah. I'm all right. But I saw
him. Who? The guy I was in the army with. Ah,
the two of you. Were you close? He was my buddy.
Well, when was the last time you saw him in person?
The night he was killed. Have you ever seen him
again? Like you thought you did just now? No.
No, this is the first time. Well, maybe you need
a rest, Jerry. Harry, why now? Why tonight after
all these years? Well, you say you saw him last
the night he died in battle. Well, the sight
of him dead must have stayed with you always.
But that's not how I just saw him, Paddy. He
wasn't in uniform. He was in civilian clothes.
You might have pictured him as he looked at a
happier time. I never saw him in civilian clothes.
This is E .G. Marshall inviting you to return
to our mystery theater for another adventure
in the macabre. Until next time. Pleasant dreams.