Come in. Welcome. I'm E .G. Marshall. Welcome
to another hour of mystery and suspense. To a
terrifying experiment in supernatural power.
An experiment by a retired scientist to direct
his wife's subconscious mind to shoot him. She
is lying on her back in the dark bedroom. He
is in his study, concentrating, transmitting
by mental energy his instructions. In the night
table, Helen. In the night table, the gun. Pick
up the gun, Helen. Pick up the gun. Now leave
the bedroom. And come to my study, Helen. My
study. Come to my study. Point the gun at me,
Helen. At me. Point the gun, Helen. Now, pull
the trigger. Pull the trigger. Our mystery drama,
The Breaking Point, was written especially for
the Mystery Theatre by Hank Warner and stars
Roger DeKoven. Come, ride with me in this ambulance,
speeding through the midnight fog across the
Golden Gate Bridge to St. Francis Hospital in
downtown San Francisco. As the trauma emergency
team tries with plasma and oxygen to keep critically
wounded Professor William Baker alive. The driver
and the two doctors know that the patient must
get to the operating room in minutes. Now, quickly.
this hospital corridor as the patient is wheeled
into the operating room. Stand outside the door
and listen as they try to save him. And maybe
you'll learn what Professor Baker tried to learn
about the dark mystery of life and death. The
patient's failing, doctor. Blood pressure? 62
over 40. Adrenaline. I can hear them trying to
save me, but I'm going to die. And I want you
to know that I'm dying all because I made my
wife murder me. Yes, I am dying because I conducted
an experiment. to influence my wife's subconscious
mind to the point where she was going to murder
me. Listen. Listen carefully. I will tell you
exactly what happened. And when I have completed
what I desire to communicate, go to the police.
Tell them if you dare. I say dare, for it will
require courage. It began this afternoon when
Dr. Philip Simpson, the brilliant young brain
surgeon, drove up in his station wagon from Palo
Alto to address the San Francisco Medical Society
and spend the night with us at the cottage Helen,
my wife, and I had rented in the wooded hillside
just across the Golden Gate Bridge overlooking
the ocean. He brought Chi Chi, one of two capuchin
monkeys he kept under observation in his research
laboratory. It's good to see you, Philip. It's
so good to see you, Professor Baker. So that's
Chi Chi. He wants to get out. Quiet town, Chi
Chi. Come on, you can come out. Hello, Chi Chi.
Oh, you want to shake hands too, of course. Welcome,
Chi Chi. Very affectionate. Astounding talent
for mimicry. Oh, dear. Get off Professor Baker's
shoulder, Chi Chi. Come on down. He likes your
hat. No, Chi Chi. No. All right, now you've tried
it on. Give it back. Oh, thank you, Chi Chi.
He gets tired of wearing his black skull cap.
Chi Chi, let go of my hand. Now, you go on by
yourself. He's always curious about new surroundings
probably wants to explore that grove of trees
go on go on Chi Chi It won't go far. He'll play
for a while and come back Beautiful place you
have here professor Baker is Helen home. Oh,
she'll be back shortly had some shopping in the
village She just had to have abalone for you.
She remembered how much you enjoy Abalone wonderful
wonderful. How is she? You and Helen certainly
could not have found a lovelier place for retirement
It is rather isolated, but then it does have
that increasingly rare commodity peace and quiet
Let's walk around back Just beautiful this view
and now about a cocktail. Well, why don't we
wait for Helen? Well, she ought to be back any
minute We usually have our evening cocktail in
the study gets foggy on the patio toward sundown
What about Chi Chi? He'll be all right. He'll
open the patio door if it's left unlocked. Gets
hysterical if he thinks he's been locked up.
Still like dry Manhattan's? Perfect. Did you
tell Helen that you had asked me to bring Chi
Chi? I intended to. Slipped my mind. Here you
are. Ah, thank you. Well, cheers. Ah. That's
good as ever. I hope Helen won't be upset. I'm
sure she won't. I rather think she'll be intrigued
with the idea of having Chi Chi here for our
experiments. You mean she's working with you
on the research? Oh, yes. She's very cooperative.
Finds it lots of fun. Well, that is interesting.
Is she as intrigued as you seem to be with psychic
studies? Frankly, I don't believe so. She's been
very cooperative, but I don't think she really
approves. Oh? And sometimes, I question the wisdom
of having married at my age. Oh, come on now.
I remind you, Philip, Helen is 20 years younger.
I sometimes have the feeling she feels trapped,
misses the activities of faculty wives she so
enjoyed in the years before my retirement. Perhaps
we'd had children. Philip. Helen should have
married you when you were both graduate students.
Well, there's nothing happened between you. No,
Philip, not yet, but... Well, don't tell me that
you, Professor Baker, an eminent physicist for
40 years with worldwide reputation for scientific
integrity, has succumbed to clairvoyance? And
you, Philip, do you have irrefutable proof that
clairvoyance does not ever exist? Can you issue
an assurance that something will not happen?
Well, that's Helen now Hello Helen As I look
back now To that moment when dr. Simpson and
I waited for Helen to come into the house. I
Fully realize that the quick flush that passed
over his tense face Meant the one thing I had
been blind to that he was still in love with
her. Helen entered the room with packages in
her arms. She threw them on the sofa, rushed
towards him, her face glowing with pleasure,
embraced him and kissed his cheek, hugged him.
Oh, Philip, it's so good to see you. It's good
to see you. Let me look at you. Oh, it's so...
It's so good to see you. Neither one of them
saw Chichi open the door from the garden. Come
into the room, climb a table, and spring onto
her shoulder, its furry paws around her neck.
Chichi, come down, Chichi. Let go of her. Come
down. There, now stay down. It's a monkey. I
couldn't imagine what... All I saw and felt were
hairy paws. It's all right, Chi Chi. It's all
right. Now just be quiet. I'm so sorry he scared
you. He was trying to be affectionate. Yeah,
well, I sure can do with a drink, Pa. Here you
are, dear. Thank you. He is cute, but why the
black skullcap? Well, you might say aesthetic
reasons. Aesthetic? Or cosmetic. Philip doesn't
like his little wards running around in public
with their brains exposed. Brains exposed? Yes,
that's right, Helen. The skull cap covers Cheechie's
plastic skull. Now, I'll show you. There you
are. Well, you can see its brain. It's positively
fascinating. Almost unbelievable. Oh, Philip,
it's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant surgery.
Wait, wait a minute, Helen. I'm just carrying
on what was begun in 1948 at the Naval Medical
Research Institute in Bethesda, Maryland. Really?
I had no idea such surgery was possible that
far back. Helen, my dear, there's a big gap in
your knowledge of surgery. The ancient Egyptians
operated on cranial bone. Mm -hmm, that's correct.
Look here, Helen, surgeons in a series of four
operations removed cranial bone from the shaved
head. And when the skull healed, fitted the metal
ring around the edge of the skull, sealing the
joint with rosin and wax. The clear plastic skull
is held in place by these six steel bolts. Marvelous.
Simply marvelous. Oh, it's practically routine
now. Well, why was it done, Philip? Well, to
study. Through the plastic skull, as I am still
studying, the flow of blood when the monkeys
are in an induced state of shock, or under the
influence of anesthesia or drugs like adrenaline,
histamine. And, of course, reactions to cold,
hunger, diet, fear, tension, and so forth. Incidentally,
I'm leaving Chichi here for a while. Here? Oh,
I'm sorry, Helen. I simply forgot to tell you.
Yes, but why? I mean, why is it being left here?
What Philip is too polite to say, my dear, is
that he's loaning Chichi to me for extrasensory
and paranormal experiments, to make my own observations.
I believe he hopes to convince me that the brain
monkeys or man's fails to respond with a measurable
reaction to mental energy messages. Exactly.
Look, I'm curious. Why must the experiment be
with a monkey when a dog, a horse? Philip understands.
Don't you, Philip? Well, Helen, in the scale
of intelligence among animals, the monkey has
the highest ability to learn next to man. Oh.
Oh, Philip, what time is your lecture? Well,
I should be at the Academy by eight. Good. Give
us enough time for another cocktail. And not
have to rush through dinner. Darling, please
shake up another round. I'll take these packages
to the kitchen. Well, here. Here, let me carry
them in. Oh. Well, just put them on the counter,
Philip. Mm -hmm. Anything else I can help you
with? Just show me where things are. I'll help
set the table. What is it, Helen? You all right?
Yes. The table. The table. What are you talking
about? I said I'd help set the table. Later.
Let's have our drink and talk. There's so much
to catch up with, Philip. More coffee, Philip?
Yes, please. Oh, have some more of the strawberries,
Philip, and ice cream. Just a little. Helen,
what you've been telling me is hardly believable.
There's no room for disbelief, Philip. There's
evidence. Evidence? Yes. I'll get the drawings.
Excuse me. Be right back. They're in the study.
I don't like it, Helen. Do you have these dizzy
spells often? Well, they... been more frequent
recently. Well, you should stop participating
in such experiments. I'll talk to William. Oh,
please don't. Please. Here we are. Philip, look
at these rough line drawings. Do they suggest
recognizable objects? Well, this might be an
apple, I guess. This, well, suggests a knife.
You can't see anything in this one. Meaningless
lines. Yes, that one is meaningless. Note the
dates on the drawings. About a month ago, I sat
at this table with three objects in my hands.
An apple, a knife, and a salt shaker. Helen was
stretched out on her back in the bedroom, her
mind clear of any thoughts or feelings, awaiting
my energy message. She could not hear me. She
could only receive my thoughts, my instructions.
I sent a message for her to pick up the pad and
pencil on the night table. I sent an energy message
telling her I was holding an apple, a knife,
and a salt shaker, and for her to draw them.
She got two out of three. You ask me to accept
this as evidence that you can control the actions
of the mind of a person who's out of your sight,
out of the sound of your voice, even physically
in another place? I call it coincidence, accident.
It did happen, Philip. In many other experiments
we did together, it took me months of training
to achieve a state of receptivity. Well, that's
all very interesting. But I'd better soon be
on my way to the Academy. I can see you're still
skeptical. Can you spare three more minutes for
another, as you say, interesting experiment now,
right here, with Helen? With Helen? I'd rather
not. I don't mind, Philip. All right, very well.
Thank you, Helen. Lie down in the bedroom. I'll
give you two minutes to achieve receptivity.
I will repeat once more, Helen. Come back, pick
up the coffee pot, and pour the coffee right
on your fine lace tablecloth. You're not going
to let her... No, this dong will stop her. More
coffee, Philip. Well, I really should be going.
Oh, yes, before the bridge traffic gets heavy.
Here, I'll help you carry these things to the
kitchen. He followed her into the kitchen, carrying
a tray. The brilliant Dr. Simpson had been puzzled.
Are you all right? He had asked her. Dr. Simpson,
who recognized only the fiscal laws of matter,
had asked, are you all right? But she wasn't
all right. Dr. Simpson didn't know then what
the trouble was. But late that night, when he
returned from his lecture, he found out about
the experiment that was underway with the loaded
gun in the night table. Well, this is a strange
kind of monkey business, huh? And poor puzzle
Dr. Simpson. I'm sure he never expected to find
two old respectable friends kicking the gong
around. I'll be back shortly with Act Two. Now
clear your mind and listen with a blank mind
and Maybe you will intercept the next mental
radio message professor Baker has prepared for
Helen ready Helen didn't wait up for dr. Simpson
to return I Waited in the study dark, but for
the small lamp on my desk and still except for
the soft breathing of Chi Chi asleep in the shadowy
corner of the sofa. I waited and read until I
could be sure that Helen was sound asleep. I
unlocked my desk and took out the one notebook
I kept hidden from her and made an entry. The
experiment is beginning to show results. Today
Helen reacted with an unmistakable manifestation
of dizziness and mental depressiveness. When
Dr. Simpson mentioned the word table, I am convinced
that the subject has reached the stage of complete
susceptibility and receptiveness. Then I continued
the experiment. I stared in the direction of
the bedroom door and concentrated. I shut out
every sight and sound and thought until I was
oblivious to everything but - the task at hand.
Helen, there is a gun in the night table. In
the night table, Helen. In the night table, a
gun, Helen. In the night table, a gun, Helen.
Professor Baker. Yes? What? What are you doing?
Experimenting. Where's Helen? Lying down in the
bedroom. Close the door, won't you? Professor,
what is this experiment? It's a very simple experiment.
I'm trying to reach her mind. Now, if you'll
excuse me. Helen, there is a gun in the night
table. Stop it! Shaking dr. Simpson. What are
you up to? I'm simply trying to tell Helen there
is a gun in the night table by her bed and for
her to what? To pick it up enter this room point
the gun at me and pull the trigger But why why
what I'm trying to determine is whether one mind
can influence another by exerting mental energy
to do something the subject would normally recoil
from doing Yes, yes, go on In Helen's case, I'm
sure that in her conscious hours, she would never
even entertain the thought of shooting me. I'm
trying to determine whether she can be made to
do just that without her being aware that she
is being impelled to do so. But why? What would
it prove? Prove? Don't you see? If one mind can
control another across space, think of the power,
men of good will. can exercise over evil. It
will at long last give man control over the rapacious
breed that makes civilization a nightmare. The
evil power -hungry men who brainwash their countrymen
into one war after another. Professor, how long
has this been going on? For weeks. Every night.
You recall Helen's depressiveness this evening?
When you mentioned the word table? You mean yes
the reaction results My mind is beginning to
control her subconscious you you witnessed it
Philip and now Have you the scientific integrity
and the courage to witness the experiment carried
through I? Have conditioned her to come in when
the clock strikes midnight in a few minutes now
what? What do you mean? Do I have the courage?
Yes to stand by and not interfere When or if
she's about to pull the trigger to kill me you
You mean the gun is loaded? Of course it is.
But why not blank bullets? The experiment must
be carried out with all factors of reality to
eliminate all possibility of interference from
her extra sensory perception. I don't understand.
Don't you see her extra sensory perception could
signal her subconscious mind that the gun is
harmless and the experiment would prove nothing?
Professor Baker, I simply cannot understand how
a man like you... who's devoted 40 years to the
science of physics can suddenly, on retirement
from scholastic life, devote all his time to
such, such... elusive matters as parapsychology,
mental telepathy, clairvoyance, fantastic nonsense!
You sound very dogmatic for a man of science,
Dr. Simpson. With all due respect to your sincerity
in your experiments, Professor Baker... The vast
array of scientific knowledge still supports
the theory that human behavior can be traced
directly to the physical and chemical factors
of the human body. And you think Chi Chi will
convince me of that? Precisely. You allow for
no distinction between man and the monkey? None,
none. Both are animals. Listen to me, Philip.
You've been trying to dissuade me. Well, I'm
quite aware of that. Now let me try to convince
you. All right, I'm listening from the time the
British Society for Psychical Research was founded
in 1882 Right through the present worldwide experimentation
to pierce the veil of the unknown The one thing
that has been missing is the willingness of scientists
of unquestioned integrity to conduct their own
experiments The time has come Philip for researchers
like you and me to settle once and for all what
is or is not possible, is or is not true, in
paranormalty. If I consent to witness your experiment,
will you promise me that if it fails, tonight,
now, you will never again experiment with Helen's
mind? Yes, but Philip, I can see... You're still
afraid that the experiment will succeed and that
she could shoot me I'll put you at ease this
gong that stopped her from pouring the coffee
on the table here you hold it and if you think
the situation warrants Strike the gong Very well
proceed He stood by the door to the study One
hand holding the brass gong by its silk braid,
his eyes watching the clock on the mantel as
it started to strike midnight. Chi Chi, awakened
by the clock in our raised voices, was nervously
pacing back and forth across the top of the back
of the sofa. Philip watched the door. I sensed
he was prepared, if Helen failed to respond to
the gong, he would strike the gun out of her
hand. I resume the experiment. Pick up the gun.
Come into the study, Helen. The study, Helen.
Helen walked in, her eyes fixed and staring,
her arms at her side, her right hand slightly
behind her. Philip, mouth open, unable to utter
a word, watching her. Point the gun at me. Pull
the trigger. Helen! Dr. Simpson dropped the gun.
Just to me, as I slumped over the desk. Good
God! The bullet hit my chest. Helen! Tal's adhesive
tape. It's a chest wound. Have to keep him from
sucking in air. He looked up from examining the
wound. One glance told him she didn't hear or
understand. He ran to the bathroom, got towels
and the tape. Helen, call an ambulance. He moved
me to the couch, pillows under my head, ripped
open my shirt, pressed the towel on the wound,
taped my chest to keep the pressure on the wound.
Call the ambulance, Helen. She didn't respond.
He seized the phone. Put down the phone, Philip.
Helen. Helen, why are you pointing the gun at
me? Put down the gun. She lowered the gun to
her side. He went to her. My eyes closed. I struggled
against the blackness flooding my mind. I struggled
as the blood trickled from my wound to listen.
Helen. Don't you hear me? Answer me. Answer me!
Why did you slap me, Philip? Helen, do you know
what you've done? What have I done? You've shot
him. Who? Your husband, Professor Baker. We've
got to call an ambulance, Helen. His pulse, his
pulse is... Will... will he live? The ambulance,
Helen. He won't live, will he? I can see it in
your face, Philip. He won't live. He'll die if
he doesn't get to the operating room. I want
him to die. What did you say? I must say, I'm
surprised too. But then Helen's probably like
most women, not always mean what they say or
say what they mean, huh? Wonder what's really
on her mind. But she's in good hands with a doctor
in the house. I'll be back shortly with Act 3.
Well, it does seem we left both Helen and dr.
Simpson in a state of shock Not to mention our
bleeding professor Baker and that hysterical
chichi Let's rejoin them and see Whether there's
help for any of them. I do want him to die listen
to me You must let me call the ambulance Don't
you see we must if he dies here the police will
want to know why we didn't call the ambulance
The police? Yes, Helen, the police will want
to know. Oh, Philip. Oh, me. I'm so mixed up.
Come, come. Sit down. Lean back. Just try to
relax. Put the gun on the floor. I'll call the
hospital. This is dr. Philip Simpson. Yes, I
need the ambulance trauma team at once 47 Edgecliff
Road critical chest wound gunshot Now I want
you to call the police Helen The police yes,
they'll be here soon. Anyway, they're always
alerted about requests for an ambulance But I
want you to call them for the record. It will
be important at the trial I'll get them on the
phone you talk Oh, this is Mrs. William Baker,
47 Edgecliff Road. I want to report that I just
shot my husband. What will I tell them when they
get here, Philip? You don't have to answer any
questions tonight. I'll have the law firm of
Kendall Prentice represent you. They're specialists
in forensic medicine. The Chinese gong in the
dining room. It's Chi Chi imitating what I did.
Chi Chi, stop that. You hear me? Stop that. Let
me have it, Chi Chi. Now, come here. Drop it.
Drop it. Let go. Let go of it or I'll break your
fall. Those Capuchin monkeys. They want to imitate
every new thing they see. Chi Chi, go sit down
in that corner. Go on and stay there. They're
intelligent, but they can be very trying. Chi
Chi is... Chi Chi is acting strangely tonight.
Usually obeys a command immediately. Well, perhaps
Chi Chi's nervous system has been affected by...
by what's happened here. Perhaps its brain has
intercepted... Some of Williams energy messages
nonsense Helen that's impossible I mean Chi Chi
can sense excitement and tension in a room, but
as for intercepting professor Baker's energy
messages uh -uh I better check his pulse It's
weak very weak What's keeping that? Chi Chi's
got the gun Chi Chi Chi Chi let me have that
gun Now Chi Chi now you'll be a nice boy But
put the gun on the floor Good boy. Good boy.
Thank you, Chi Chi. Thank you. Now go back in
the corner, and please stay there. I'll put the
gun on the desk. I think we both need a brandy.
Would you like one, Helen? Yes, please. Here,
dear. Now just sip it. Tell me, Helen, did...
Did you know what you were doing when you pulled
the trigger? What? What do you think, Philip?
I don't know what to think yet. You've got to
tell me, Helen. Did you know what you were doing?
You pulled the trigger after I struck the gong.
Yes. I know. You... you knew? You deliberately
murdered him. Murder? I shot him! Because he
told me to. He made me do it. But if you knew,
if you knew what you were doing, the police will
call it murder. Look, I told you I knew what
I was doing, but I won't tell the police. What
will you tell them? That the experiment, the
great Professor Baker's experiment was a success.
Wait a minute. You knew about the experiment?
You knew? Yes. Every step of it. I knew about
the notebook. I read every entry, every day.
I knew exactly what he was up to. The police
will read the notebook and they'll understand.
They'll understand. You murdered him. Helen.
I never loved him. I was beginning to hate him.
It doesn't matter now, Helen. I prefer to conclude
that you did not know what you were doing. That
the experiment did unbalance your mind. I think
the district attorney will accept that. Except
what, Philip? That when you pulled that trigger,
it was insanity. Oh, no! No, I won't be declared
insane! No! No, no! Look, I'll show them the
notebook. They'll understand. They'll read it
in his own handwriting. How night after night,
while I was asleep, he tried to make me shoot
him. They'll understand. Unless you tell them
differently. Unless you tell them I murdered
him! Helen. Helen, please, listen to me. Try
to understand what I'm telling you. The police
will never believe that Professor Baker's experiment
was a success. They'll call in scientists to
testify that no such thing is possible. They'll
suspect that you used your knowledge of the experiment
to kill your husband. Yes, but you were a witness.
You can verify what happened. Yes, but the...
You tell them that I murdered him? No. No, no,
no The only honest opinion I can give them is
that your mind snapped that day by day the knowledge
of your husband's secret experiment preyed on
your mind and You became convinced in a moment
of temporary insanity that he really wanted you
to kill him Will they believe that I? Hope the
jury will As I lay there on the couch still my
eyes closed Aware that under the blanket my blood
was still slowly trickling into the towel Fighting
against slipping off into unconsciousness. I
could still hear their voices as from a great
distance I'm so tired, I'm so mixed up. My poor
darling. And then, I was aware of Chichi at the
side of the couch, bending over me, its breath
close to my face. My eyelids, heavy with weirdness,
lifted slightly, and through the thin slit of
vision, I saw Chichi's plastic skull. I could
see plainly through the plastic skull, the gray
mass of nerve tissue of the cerebellum. And then,
summoning every last bit of strength of will,
I concentrated on Chi -Chi's brain. Chi -Chi,
the gun in the desk. Chi -Chi. What have I done,
Billy? To you too? I've ruined your career. Go
to the desk, Chi -Chi, in the drawer. The gun.
I could see its gray eyes staring at me, trying
to grasp what I was telling him. And then he
jumped on the desk, pulled open the drawer, and
took out the gun. Chee Chee! Put it down, Chee
Chee! Philip charged to the desk. Chee Chee eluded
him, leaped to the mantle over the fireplace.
Drop the gun, Chee Chee! Drop it! Philip chased
it all over the room as it knocked over a table
and a chair. Point to the hanging ceiling light
fixture waving the gun playfully. Chi Chi, point
the gun at the mirror. At the mirror, Chi Chi.
Stop it! Stop it! Give me the gun, Chi Chi! At
the mirror, pull the trigger. Give me the gun,
Chi Chi! Alan was reaching towards Chi Chi. Chi
Chi was pointing the gun at her. I didn't want
Helen to die. I summoned every last ounce of
will and sent a mental message to Chi Chi. Drop
the gun, Chi Chi. Drop the gun. Look out, Helen!
Good Lord. Helen. Helen. Answer me. She didn't
have a chance. She was shot in the head. Hold
me tight, darling. Hold me tight. You must not
die, Helen. You must not die. Helen, I love you.
Hold me tight. Chichi was at the door at the
garden in a panic, trying to open the door, the
gun still in his hand. Philip grabbed the fireplace
poker, swung it on Chichi's plastic skull. glanced
off and fell out of his hand. Philip picked up
a chair, threw it at Cheechie with all the strength
of his fury. It crashed through the glass. Cheechie
jumped through the opening. Philip picked up
the poker, went after Cheechie. I could hear
Philip chasing him across the flagstones of the
patio. I heard the police car. I could hear Philip
shout. Cheechie! Then, all was still. Death lay
still. I lost consciousness until I became aware
of someone talking on the telephone. Yes, Lieutenant.
Two dead. Mrs. Baker in the house and Dr. Philip
Simpson in the woods back of the house. Yeah,
one bullet in each of them. John says Dr. Simpson
was pretty far gone when he found him. Says he
tried to tell him something John thinks it was
something about a monkey still running round
out there with a loaded gun He beats me to lieutenant
No, no nothing else. Oh, yes, sir. We found a
black skull cap Hanging on the chandelier That's
what I said skull cap odd -shaped thing You can't
figure out what it's for. No Right Oh, better
get that ambulance out here fast. Professor may
still have a chance. Here it comes now, Lieutenant.
That's how it happened. Exactly how it happened.
The police are still puzzled. Chi Chi will probably
find roaming the woods the gun somewhere. Nearby,
Chi Chi did it. Tell the police, Chi Chi did
it. Why? Perhaps it was mimicking Helen after
it witnessed her shooting me. I shall never know.
As for whether my wife murdered me willfully
or suffered temporary insanity. or was influenced
by my mental energy. You must judge for yourself
after you read the full record of the experiment
in the notebook. Yes. Go tell the police and
Professor Seligson. You can locate him through
the American Society of University Professors.
Tell them... I decided to communicate the foregoing
just an hour ago when I heard the operating team
give me up. And they say dead men tell no tales.
Talking about the brain though. Let me give you
men a tip. If your wife is trying to talk you
to death, don't worry. Master the secret of mind
over chatter. But seriously, a guy I know didn't
even answer his wife. She threatened to divorce
him because he was unsociable. So he hit her
over the head with a mashie, told the jury he
wanted to be clubby. I'll be back shortly. A
word of advice, folks. When brain fatigue threatens
and mental strain upsets you, why not settle
down beside your radio? for another relaxing
hour of suspense and adventure in the complimentary
season seat reserved just for you in our radio
mystery theater. And oh yes, bring your friends.
The seats are on the house. Our cast included
Roger DeKoven, Bryna Rayburn, and Nat Polen.
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.