Come in. Welcome. I'm E .G. Marshall. Welcome
to the fear you can hear. Welcome to the world
of terrifying imagination. Our suspense -filled
tale is about two ladies. One heedless, one,
alas, headless. To meet them both... we shall
have to span an ocean and several centuries.
The story of both ladies comes from Rudley Castle
in the Cotswold Hills of England. But the tale
of the First Lady belongs in this century, while
the legend of the Second comes riding to us out
of the medieval past. Charles! Charles! What?
Charles, wake up! Can't you hear them? There
they are again! What is it, Beth? The Hothbeats!
This time they're coming straight for the house!
Where are you going, Beth? I've got to see! It's
the dead of night, you can't see anything! It's
bright moonlight! Oh, God! She's right in the
courtyard below! Stop it! Will you have your
mind? She's throwing... The title of our tale
is, A Lady Never Loses Her Head. This has been
an accepted dictum since the beginning of recorded
history. But in the literal sense, in feudal
times, a lady unfortunately could, and frequently
did, lose her head. Thank heavens, of course,
that is no longer possible. Or is it? Let's travel
to London and start our narrative in the gloomy
gray atmosphere of Scotland Yard. Excuse me,
inspector. Yes, Cuthers, what is it? Young lady
outside to see you. Most attractive. Blue -eyed,
blonde hair, about 24. American, about five...
Yes, sir, I can do without the vital statistics.
Does she have a name? Yes, sir. Beth Stanton.
Miss... Beth Stanton. Stanton? My old friend
Biff's daughter. Well, don't just stand there.
Man, bring her in. Right this way, Miss Stanton.
Thank you, Sergeant. My dear girl, you are Biff
Stanton's daughter, of course? Of course. Oh,
how nice to meet you. Come in, come in. Dear
me, this is a pleasure. Oh, do sit down. Oh,
thank you, Inspector Finchley. Tell me, what
are you doing in England? Oh, first, before anything,
following Dad's orders and coming to see you.
Also, I brought you something from him. Really?
I should have brought it earlier or sent it,
but... Well after he died I was a mess so long
it had just been the two of us Took me a year
to pace myself back together again. I wish I
could have helped at the very least I should
have come over for the funeral Oh, there was
none dad wouldn't have wanted that. Mm -hmm.
I can imagine Anyway, he wanted you to have this.
Oh No, no, I can't now you have to If Stanton's
wings Any idea what they mean to an old fogey
who went through the Battle of Britain shoulder
to shoulder with him I? Can tell you something
my dear these mean more to me than the crown
jewels You know you're everything dad said you'd
be Hello for real uncle Alfie After that what
can I do to make England yours? Not a thing it's
already mine. Oh how so? Well, it's mad, wild,
out of sight. Here I was on the boat coming over,
still fighting all the trauma of Dad's death,
and suddenly I met this marvelous Englishman.
Only a little less marvelous than you turned
out to be, of course. And just like that, I did
a crazy thing. What was that? I married him.
I'm not really Beth Stanton anymore. I'm Mrs.
Charles Rudford. Well, dear me, dear me. Congratulations.
I deserve them. I'm so lucky. Well, I'd like
to meet your husband. What's he like? Too much.
He's tall, black -haired, blue eyes, and just
so Englishy English. Well, now, will you live
here or in America? Oh, it has to be here because
of Charles. Ah. What's his line of work? He doesn't
have to work, actually, although he is a very
fine artist. Well, I envy this chap in more ways
than one. Why doesn't he have to work? Because
most of his time is spent in managing his estate.
Which reminds me, I've got to run. I'm off to
the ancestral home in the Cotswolds to take up
my position as Lady of the Manor. Dorset, eh?
Lovely country. Whereabouts? Chauncey Castle.
I expect you know it. I'm afraid I'm a bit shaky
on Burke's pillage. Oh, Charles isn't an Earl
or a Duke, really. It's just his family line.
I don't even know what his title is exactly.
Well, would you like me to find out? No, in this
day and age, what does it matter? Now, Uncle
Alfie, I must go. Charles went on ahead of me
with his sister. Nora insisted she had to have
a day to get things ready. I told Charles I needed
a full day to shop for a sort of late trousseau.
So he drove her up with most of my bags. All
right, my dear. I shan't keep you. Give me a
few weeks to get settled, and I promise you'll
be our first house guest. You only have to ask
me. Bye -bye. Yes, sir. A very tasty young lady.
Mm. And a hasty one. How's that, sir? Marion
Haster Pintiton. Beg pardon, Inspector. Oh, nothing,
nothing. Too many years of policeman, I suppose.
One tends to fall into the habit of looking for
trouble. Still, she is the daughter of the best
friend I ever had, and she must be a very rich
young woman. I say, brothers, rustle me a copy
of Bert's peerage, will you? Something I'd like
to have a look at. Well, my lady, how do you
like your castle? Oh, Charles, it's something
else. It's what? I mean it. I mean it's too much.
It's magnificent. Just breathtaking, thrilling.
There just aren't enough words. But it's sort
of creepy, too. Creepy? Well, you know, everything's
so... old and so big. Yes, and so very drafty.
I'm glad we won't be living here. But we can
if you want, my darling. Oh, no, please, no.
I feel like an exhibit. It's so comfortable at
the gatehouse. Yes, except for poor Nora. She
is sort of underfoot. Oh, come on. It's not that
small. And I'm not going to put Nora out of her
own home. You're sure you don't mind, dear? Are
all these paintings legitimate ancestors? Yes.
Charles? What is it, Beth? Who... who is that?
Ah, yes. I thought that one might pique your
curiosity. That was the Lady Elizabeth Chauncey.
Beyond question, the most attractive of all the
family. Until now. But she looks just like me.
A very pallid copy, my darling. Besides, she
was very dark. Not like my fair and golden -haired
American beauty. Well, still, imagine all those
years ago, someone in your family who... When
did she die? Somewhere in the middle 1500s. She
died very young, as the story goes. How? Oh,
accidentally. Darling, I think we ought to get
back to the gatehouse. It's almost time for tea.
Do you have milk in your tea, Beth? No, thanks.
Well, how did you like the castle? Oh, it's great.
I mean, it's terribly impressive and fascinating.
And inexpressibly gloomy, damp and musty. Well,
I didn't say that. Oh, but it was what you were
thinking. Oh, no, you're marvelous. Yes, I thought
all of those things. I just hope Charles doesn't
want to live there. Oh, heavens dear, not a chance.
You see all the rebuilding, refurbishing that's
going on there? Yes, I did. That's why I thought
maybe... Oh, not intended for private life, Beth.
Strictly for the public. Big pardon? Well, the
only way of supporting these charming and historic
white elephants is to open them to the public
for a small fee, which mounts up. Oh, what a
shame. Your own home, poor Charles. Oh, he doesn't
mind any more than I do. The place is much too
big and full of cobwebs and ghosts. It gives
me the shivers. Ghosts? You mean real ones that
actually haunt? And if you want to believe in
such things, the usual clanking of armour and
dragging of chains. Except, of course, for the
Lady Elizabeth. The one whose portrait I saw
today? Oh, I'm not sure if I know you did. We've
had a great many Elizabeths. Well, the very young
one. The one who looked like me. Oh, that would
be she. Yes, you do favor her. You know, Charles
was so funny about her. I mean, he didn't seem
to want to talk about how she died. Jolly right,
I should think. Gruesome silly story. Well, she
was married to one of the first Earls of Chauncey.
A man quite literally, believe it or not, old
enough to be her grandparent. And so, quite naturally,
she fell in love with one of the young bloods
who traipsed around in the retinue. Oh, what
was his name? Oh, heavens dear, Ivan the foggiest.
No one remembers him. At all events, sex being
just as urgent in those days, if not quite so
publicized, the two of them were caught cavorting
in, uh... Plagranti de licto, I think, is the
polite Latin phrase. And the elderly Earl was
quite put out about it. So much so that he...
he had the poor little thing beheaded. Oh, violent
times, you know, violent measures. Even that
wasn't quite enough for him. What do you mean?
What else could he do to work? Well, it gets
a bit bloody, dear. Maybe we'd better just...
No, I want to know. Well... I'm afraid he had
the head impaled on a pike and left to wither
on the battlements. The body, of course, was
interred. Oh, my God. Nasty types they were in
those days. How old was she? Oh, see, I think
I remember. Oh, yes, 24. Just my age. So young
to die and be buried forever. Well, the legend
is, of course, that she hasn't been our parlour
legend. You mean she haunts? Oh, rather. She
was quite a horsewoman, history tells us. And
any night, but particularly when the moon is
full, she rides the grounds searching for her
lost head. She's quite famous locally. I must
admit, when the wind's from the west, I... I
sometimes swear myself I can hear the hoofbeats.
Poor... Poor Elizabeth. Poor... No. What's that?
Charles! Charles, wake up. What is it, Dolly?
Do you hear them? Why? Somebody riding a horse.
It's 2 .30 in the morning. But can't you hear
them? You don't suppose Elizabeth... Oh, that
stupid legend. I'm really quite furious at Nora
for... No, no, no. Don't be, please. I expect
I'm the stupid one. It's all so new to me. I'll
settle down. Let me assist in that process. Darling,
darling. I don't hear the hoofbeats anymore.
You never did. Just the excited beating of your
husband's heart. Oh, I love you. And I love you.
You're so lovely. I can't wait to paint you.
I'll sit for you. Do you know what I'd like to
do tomorrow? What? Make a life mask of you. Oh,
how do you do that? You'll see. Tomorrow. You'll
see Charles really has something more sinister
than history lurking in the dark corners of Chauncey
Castle and what if one examines it is a life
mask a mold of the features once done in plaster
of Paris today in modern plastic a technique
often employed to perpetuate someone departed
from this life and originally named The Death
Mask. I'll be back shortly with Act Two. Have
you ever had a mask made of your face? It's a
quite terrifying experience. The material is
laid on like shaving soap or a mud bath. and
you lie there while it hardens and sets. In the
last moments, there is an excess of heat and
a feeling as if you will be buried forever in
concrete or stone. You can breathe, but the shut
-in feeling, the claustrophobia, suggests you
can't, that maybe whoever it is making the mask
wants to kill you, smother you, like Beth, wordless,
speechless. helpless at this moment. Hand me
the straws, Nora. Here you are. What a really
dreadful thing to do to the child. Now, don't
try to talk, dearest. The plastic is just beginning
to set. It won't be much longer. I'm going to
have to cover your mouth now, so I'll put these
straws in your nose and you'll be able to breathe.
Now the thing is not to get panicky. The whole
thing is perfectly barbarous. Shut up, Nora.
There's not a thing in the world to worry about
death It just sort of draws and there's a feeling
that it's clamping down But it's soon over Trust
me darling Please don't worry about a thing Thought
I was going to die. I got the most beautiful
mold of your face. You'll see it was worth it
Honestly darling, I was scared I'm like Elizabeth.
I'm much too young to die. Will you forget her?
Yeah, I'd like to but She haunts me. I never
ever thought about death before and now suddenly
Darling have you made a will? Good Lord, Beth.
You are morbid. No, since you ask. Well, you
should. We... Well, everyone should. Well, I
expect you're quite right. I'm rather careless
about money matters. I'll take care of it first
thing in the morning. May I come with you? Why,
if you want. I want to make one too, Charles.
It's really quite important. Well, my dear, if
you insist. You see, I never told you, Charles,
but I'm really worth an awful lot of money. Oh,
Crothers. Yes, Inspector? Remember that chap
in Margate we had to look into because he kept
getting rid of well -to -do wives at quite a
clip? That'd be Humbert, sir. Tall, dark chap
with a thick beard. Made a joke about Bluebeard.
Did I? Have we a photo of him handy? I think
I could dig one up. Why don't you? And by the
by, next weekend's Halloween. I think I might
leave crime to the small fry and take a busman's
holiday. You deserve it, sir. Well away. Well,
I might take a run up to the Cotswolds. Sort
of a... Sentimental journey, you might say. Morning,
Beth. Special today, kippers. No, thank you,
not for me. Out of sorts, dear. I haven't...
I didn't sleep so well. Just a little orange
juice and coffee. Oh, absolutely. Well, anything
wrong? Oh, no, not really. You know, I guess
maybe I ought to look out for those toddies of
yours. Why, Beth, nothing but a little scotch,
sugar and lemon. I didn't mean I suspected the
ingredients. It's just that maybe I can't handle
quite so much whiskey. There was only a nip in
there. Child, you do look a little wan. Should
we have Dr. Yule in to have a glance at you,
do you think? Oh, I can't need a doctor. I'm
always so healthy. Change of clime and all that,
dear, in damp old England. Flu is always floating
around. Why don't we just play safe? What do
you think, doctor? Oh, well, nothing serious,
of course, but a high -strung young lady, you
know. Well, sensitive, naturally, but high -strung.
Well, you know Americans very suggestible. What
is this notion she has about somebody on horseback
without a head? I beg your pardon? Some legend
about a girl who looked like her centuries ago.
I haven't the foggiest idea. Well, for the moment,
there's no real concern. I've left a sedative
to be filled at the pharmacist with your sister.
Convenient thing, she happens to be an RN. You're
sure you're up to this bet Charles. I've simply
had to get out of doors and away from the cottage
Let's just enjoy a walk walk into the castle
and pretend. It's all the beginning Well, I just
say well in the center of the drawbridge needs
a lot of repairs It's just incredible to think
that knights in armor rode across this bridge
How far do you suppose it's down to the bottom
of the old moat? 50, 60 feet, perhaps. A mess,
isn't it? All those weeds and jagged rocks. Can
we go in and poke about? Your wish is my command.
Beth? Right here. Where on earth have you got
to? Like a magnet, right back to her. The Lady
Elizabeth. She fascinates me so. Well, there
really isn't all that much resemblance. Oh, I
don't agree. She could be my twin. And it's funny.
What's funny? It's so hard to put into words,
Charles. It's just a feeling. I mean, her portrait
is just as old and the paint is just as cracked
as all the others, but somehow she feels so immediate.
So today. Almost as if she... just sat for the
portrait, and the artist had just finished it.
That is rather strange. You can see that the
pigments are medieval. The patina is centuries
old, just like the model. I know. I should stop
identifying myself with her just because of a
chance resemblance. Oh, Charles, I'm cold. Let's
get back to the gatehouse and add nice living
room fire. You look a bit knocked about, Beth.
Perhaps you ought to turn in a little early.
I guess so. On top of everything else, I do think
our damp weather does take a bit of getting used
to. I have the kettle on the boil to whip you
up a nice stout toddy. Oh, I don't want anything
to drink. Oh, just a bit, love. To disguise the
taste of old Dr. Yule's sedative. Why he has
to stick to powders instead of up -to -date pills
is beyond me. Oh, while you're brewing that toddy,
I have some letters to finish. Letters? Oh, I've
been very remiss. I have all sorts of friends
and half -relations in America who who don't
even know I'm married. I've got to write them.
Oh, of course. You go and get them finished,
and I'll brew you up something nice to put you
to sleep. There you are, darling. Nora's best.
Plus Dr. Yule's guaranteed potion for a restful
night. Thanks, Charles. Oh, I'm sorry to be such
a bother. Hush. Get all your letters finished.
Yes. I must mail them first thing tomorrow. Let
me have them, darling. I have to run into the
village to pick up the post. I'll send them off
then. Okay. And by the by, I hate to bother you
with this, but as long as you have pen in hand,
want to look this over and sign it? What is it?
That last will and testament that you insisted
on making. Technically, I suppose I should have
John and Nellie witness your signing. But I'm
sure they'll take the will for the deed, if you'll
excuse a complicated pun. Sign it later. Oh,
yes, let's get it out of the way. I have enough
morbid thoughts as it is. What morbid thoughts?
There. I hope to God it never has to be executed.
Amen. Drink your toddy and it will relax you.
All you need is a good... Night sleep. I'd give
anything for that. If I could just stop dreaming
about her, or hearing those hoofbeats. Charles.
What, dear? You don't think I'm going crazy,
losing my mind? Oh, now come on. Drink up. And
I'll hold you tight till you go to sleep. It's
strong. But it does feel good. Charles, you're
so good to me. How can I ever repay you? You
will, darling. You will. Charles! Charles! What?
Charles, wake up! Can't you hear them? There
they are again! What is it, Beth? Oh, Beats!
This time they're coming straight for the house.
Where are you going, Beth? I've got to see. It's
the dead of night. You can't see anything. It's
bright moonlight out. Oh, God. She's right in
the courtyard below. Stop it, Beth. She's...
she's blowing back the hood of the cave. She...
More and more the question narrows itself down
to a very simple one. Which lady has lost her
head completely? Elizabeth from the past, who
will not stay at rest? Or Beth from the present,
who seems bound to raise her from the grave?
I'll be back with at least some of the answers
when I return shortly with Act 3. So... back
once again to the problem of our twin danzels
in distress. The medieval one has vanished into
thin air by now, if indeed she ever materialized
from there, while our modern Beth has confounded
us and her husband by doing something quite medieval,
or at least old -fashioned. Beth? Beth? Beth,
it's Charles. Wake up. What? Charles? Oh, what
happened to me? What... What happened to her?
Charles, she... Now, darling, darling, listen
to me. There was nobody there. Oh, but I saw
her. I saw her sitting, sitting side -saddle
on the horse, and when she dropped the hood...
Beth, it was a dream. She had no head. No head
at all. Except in her hand. You've got to stop
it, Beth. She was holding it by the hair and
the face was all wrinkled like a mummy. Beth,
I... And it was my face. Just like me. And do
you know what she was doing? Do you know what
she was doing? You've got to stop this. I can't...
She was beckoning to me, Charles, calling me
down. She wanted me. She wanted my head. Stop
it, Beth. Stop it, Beth. Beth! Oh, the awful
thing I could feel myself being tucked, pulled
toward her. If I hadn't fainted, I... Oh, God.
Oh, Charles, what's the matter with me? What's
wrong? What's that? Beth, get hold of yourself.
It must be Nora. Yes? Charles? Has something
happened? Come in, Nora. The door's open. Oh,
bless us. What's the matter with the child? She
just had a bad dream. It wasn't a dream. The
headless Elizabeth again? Yeah, she thought she
heard her ride into the court below the window.
I did! I did! I did see her! Oh, let me take
the child, Charles. No, no, no. Get her sedative
powder. We've got to calm her down. I don't want
any medicine. Just let us take care of you, Beth.
We know what we're doing. I think we've got her
under control now. I'm so sorry to rout you out
so early in the morning, particularly on All
Hallows Day. That's quite all right, Mr. Rudley,
quite all right. You'd never have gotten to her
calm down without a shot from me. Oh, silly children
and their Halloween pranks. I can't imagine how
they got this far out of the village. Did, er...
Did you see this apparition that scared Mrs.
Rudley so? Oh, good Lord, no. By the time I got
to the window, the yard was bare. How the youngins
could have disappeared so fast. Oh, I don't think
this was any childish prank. What? No, it's something
much more serious, I'm afraid. You don't mean
sleepwalking? Oh, dear me, that too. I see. Now,
you say she lost her father recently. Yes, a
year ago. And they were very close. Yes, extraordinarily
so, I would say. What is it doctor you don't
think I'll tell you what I do think mr. Rudley
and I'm going to be very honest This case your
wife's problem is far beyond the country doctor
like myself. I Think she needs psychiatric help.
Oh, no for her own sake If it weren't for the
fact that your sister is a registered nurse my
recommendation would be to have her immediately
hospitalized Psychiatric diagnosis is still my
recommendation. I believe it's vital to keep
her from harming herself. Harming herself? How?
Oh, I don't know that. But I do know that for
whatever reason, she is, well, in layman's terms,
a nervous wreck. Hypertense, in spite of all
the sedation I've been giving her. Subject to
delusions and the victim of her... of her death
wish. You must get help very quickly, help from
a specialist. And she should not be left alone
for a moment. Well, that's quite a blow. I'm
sorry, but even suicide is not out of the question.
Good Lord. I wonder, could I talk to her now?
She may be a bit drowsy, but if she's not asleep,
yes. Now, I'd like to suggest some doctors...
Doctor, I want you to. I have to go into the
village to pick up the post. Would you mind dropping
me? We can talk on the way. Oh, yes, splendid.
I'll only be a minute. I want to go back to Beth.
Meet you at your car. Oh, it's you, Charles.
Is she asleep? No. No, I'm awake. Charles? Yes,
darling? Don't leave me. Stay with me. Don't
leave me. Of course I won't leave you. You can't
get rid of me. I've been very silly, haven't
I? I can't quite remember. There's nothing to
remember. What you need is a nice long sleep.
And while you're having it, I'm going to the
village for a few minutes, get the post, and
a few things we need for dinner. And the post?
Mail? Oh, oh. Oh, yes, don't forget to mail my
letters. I should say not. Have them right here
in my pocket. You won't be... you won't be long.
No, not over an hour. And Nora will be right
here with you every moment I'm gone. Beth, dear,
don't you worry. Charles and I know just how
to take care of you. Yes? Oh, how do you do?
Are Mr. and Mrs. Rudley at home? Oh, no, I'm
sorry. Mr. Rudley's off to the village, and I'm
afraid Mrs. Rudley is... is indisposed. Oh, I'm
sorry. Not serious, I hope. Oh, no, just a little
bout with the flu. May I say who was calling?
Oh, yes, of course. Alfred Finchley. Oh, well,
are you a friend of Mrs. Rudley's? No, no, not
really. Old army chum of her father's. Oh. Just
happened to be driving by, and I'd... heard she'd
been married, and I wanted to, will you know,
pay my respects. Oh, well, I know Beth will be
so sorry not to have seen you. I'm her sister
-in -law, by the way. How'd you do? Perhaps later
this afternoon, if there was some place she could
call you. Oh, no, no, no, no. I'm driving back
to London. Well, that's a lot, Mr. Rudley. You
owe me tuppence on the one overweight letter.
There you are, Mr. Margant. Anything to go out,
sir? No, no letters this time. I thought I saw
some in your pocket. No, these are not going
to be posted. I'll take care of those myself.
As you will, sir. It's just opening time. Want
to step in the pub and have a nice warm and beer?
Not this time, Mr. Margant. Got quite a long
walk home. Better be on my way if I hope to make
it by lunch. Good morning. Good morning, sir.
Hey, that's it. Elements is all open for business.
Not one ruddy customer. Oh, afternoon, Governor.
Just ten minutes before two, so if you want one,
better step lively into the bar before closing
time. Thank you, Barkeep. I think I will. Name
is Margit, sir. Donald Margit Proprietor. And
what'll it be? Well, I think I should have a
gin and, if you don't mind. Coming right up.
Just passing through. Yes. Lovely country. Oh,
we like it. Quite a bit of work going on at Chauncey
Castle. There's the gin and, sir. Oh, thank you.
Oh, yes, yes. Going to be good for business.
Oh, so? Going to open it to the public, the family
is. Make a tourist attraction. Ah. Well, I thought
it was because the present incumbent had got
married. Present incumbent? You mean the doddery
old duke? Oh, no, no, no, no. I meant young Mr.
Rudley. Oh, him. Why, Lord bless your soul, he's
not family, sir. Oh, really? No, no. He's just
renting. Lease is almost up, I think. Radley.
I think I once knew... What's he look like? You
should have been here when I opened. You could
have seen for yourself. Tall, dark chap he is.
Yes. He wouldn't by any chance be this chap in
this picture, huh? Eh, well, no. That'd be hard
to tell. I mean, Mr. Woodley's clean shaven and
a lot thinner than this chap. Still, take away
the beard. Cut off some of the hair. I just wouldn't
know. Do you have a doctor in town? Oh, yes,
sir. That'd be Dr. Udall. You'd find him right
across the green, sir. Good timing, too. Because
I have to close. The timing couldn't be worse,
Nora. She never mentioned she knew anyone in
England. Oh, I don't think we have to worry.
It was just a little wisp of a man. Very inoffensive.
You doctor her food at lunch. Get another of
your special toddies into her before she goes
to bed. We'll do it tonight. Well, it seems a
bit soon. A lot faster than usual. But if you
insist, darling, naturally we'll go ahead. Kiss
me. Yes, sister dear. Well, at least she is the
last one. She has enough money to leave you.
So I can stop sharing you with the... the pigeon.
Inspector Finchley of Scotland Yard, Doctor.
My credentials. Oh, dear me. A policeman, but
why on earth... Could you answer my question?
Well, of course. Yes, I've called on her several
times in the last ten days or so. What's the
matter with her, Doctor? That's rather difficult
to say. She has dedusions. Caused by what? Oh,
now, Inspector, that would take a psychiatrist
to explain. She couldn't be under the influence
of drugs, could she? Why, I... Does this man
look at all familiar to you, Doctor? You'll...
No, I can't say. Just a minute. Let me get my
magnifying glass. Now, where did I... Oh, yes,
here it is. Yes. Oh, yes, by George. Partly the
facial structure, of course, but this is what
did it. You see that old scar there, bisecting
the left eyebrow, more or less? Yes. Something
a doctor would notice, because it wasn't a very
good job of suturing. Yes. I think I could swear...
Shave off the mustache, the beard, and the sideburns.
Yet, by George, you'd have Charles Rudley. Or
George Humbert. Thank God for the help of Elizabeth's
phantom steed. I thought we'd never get her downstairs.
You wouldn't think she'd be so heavy. Dead weight,
brother dear. Not quite. Quite yet. Poor Beth.
A pity. There's no time for sentiment. She's
worth a lot more to us. Dead. Now help me get
her off the horse, and then get him back to the
stable and call the doctor. After you throw her
over into the moat, you'd better make very sure
she's dead. I'll make sure. All right. I'll get
her off the horse. Stand still, Radley. Just
hold it right there. What? I've got you covered.
This is the police! Don't move! Oh, you fool!
Well, they're not going to get me! It's too late!
Get out of my way! Damn! Watch it! Don't shoot
after the horse! We don't want to harm the girl!
I just can't believe it, Uncle Alfie. Well, I
can't blame you, my dear. Nasty chap you got
mixed up with. Three others before you we got
away with. The same way? With variations. He
got a little too fancy on this one. The false
portrait, but the apparent nervous ailments and
the sleepwalking were the key to all of them.
I... I feel as though I'm going to be sick. A
little past, dear. He was a bad lot. Worth not
one single dear. And Nora... She... She was the
one on horseback with the costume rigged to appear
as if the wearer was headless and a papier mache
head made from your life mask I think I think
she's almost worse than him and To think she
got away scot -free not quite my dear We'll catch
up with her now you rest a while and don't worry.
I'm right outside As long as I'm around, you'll
never have to worry again. Good night. Good night,
Uncle Alfie. All right, Doctor? Oh, yes. Yes,
she'll be fine. You, um... You say you did catch
up with the woman? Nora. A lot more than just
police caught up with her. You know the work
they're doing on the castle? Yes, of course.
Well, apparently they found some structural weakness
in the arch of the main gate. So they supported
it by stretching a thin steel cable from one
side to the other. Well over normal head height,
of course, if you're walking. But unfortunately
not high enough to clear someone on horseback.
Good Lord, now! Oh, yes. Cut her head off as
clean as a whistle. Charles Rudley was eventually
convicted of murder of one of his earlier wives.
He was sentenced to life imprisonment. His common
-law wife, Nora, lost her life and, of course,
her head. It's nice to consider that, in her
case at least, the punishment fit the crime.
I'll be back shortly. Uncle Alfie proved to be
right about the resiliency of youth. It took
a couple of years, but eventually Beth settled
down and is happily married to a psychiatrist
in Duluth. As for this fable itself, it also
goes to prove that time not only heals all wounds,
but eventually wounds all heals. Our cast included
Kim Hunter, Nick Pryor, Bryna Rayburn, Ian Martin,
and Court Benson. The entire production was under
the direction of Hyman Brown. This is E .G. Marshall
inviting you to return to our Mystery Theatre
for another adventure in the macabre. Until next
time, pleasant dreams.