Come in. Welcome. I'm E .G. Marshall. An ancient
Chinese anecdote tells of a poor man who meets
a philosopher. The poor man begs for charity.
The philosopher says, Look at that pebble. He
points to a tiny stone. The stone turns to gold.
The poor man says, May I have something bigger?
The philosopher points to a rock, and it too
turns to gold. The poor man again asks for something
bigger. The philosopher points to a mountain.
The entire mountain turns to gold. The poor man
is still unhappy. Finally, the philosopher asks,
What do you want? And the poor man replies, I
want your finger. The moral of this and the tale
you're about to hear you can't satisfy everybody
no Don't come near me. Please don't you kill
me. Yes. I will You can't get away. Don't stick
me with that. It won't hurt I don't want to die
I Don't want to die you should have thought of
that before you all People, you know, there's
no such thing as the perfect crime. Oh, that's
nonsense, my dear. There are hundreds, thousands,
for all we know, millions of perfect crimes.
Why, every unsolved murder is a perfect crime.
And yours wasn't even a murder. It will look
like a perfect accident. Our mystery drama, I
Thought You Were Dead, was written especially
for the Mystery Theatre by Sam Dann and stars
Arlene Francis. A statement, a slogan. should
never be accepted merely because it is widely
held and seldom challenged. For instance, they
say dead men tell no tales, but this is not necessarily
so, as many a murderer has discovered, but too
late. A dead man, especially a recently dead
man, can tell a veritable anthology of tales
to people like doctors. and detectives. But what
has all this to do with Jennifer Partridge? Jennifer
Partridge. Sleek, slender, sophisticated Jennifer.
In exactly ten seconds the telephone will ring
in Jennifer's elegant penthouse apartment. And
Jennifer is going to speak to a dead man. Hello?
Hello? Yes? Jennifer? Who... Who is this? Jennifer.
Do you have to ask? But... It isn't... It can't
be. It is, Jennifer. It is. No! No! What's the
matter with me? I... I... It couldn't have been...
It's crazy. How could it be Scott? I won't answer
it. I won't. Yes, I will. Now listen here. What
kind of obscene, practical joke do you think
it's... Jennifer? Oh, Paul. Now, what was that
all about? Oh, some idiot. Look, is everything
all right? Everything's fine. You sure? Yes,
I'm positive. What about tonight? Tonight? Right
now. Let me see. Well, perhaps I can... Please,
Paul. Suppose I come to your place? Yes, Paul.
I'll see you soon. Goodbye. Thank you, Paul.
The best thing is not to answer. Martin was supposed
to call at 7 .30. Yes, it must be Martin. Hello,
Martin? Hello? So, it's Martin. See here, whoever
you are. You know who I am. Martin's a moron.
Yes, he's rich, but he's a moron. Do you mean
you actually murdered me for Martin? You did,
you know. I didn't murder you. What do you want?
I'm Scott. I'm your husband. And your place is
with me. But you're dead. Exactly. Exactly. But
Scott is dead. I spoke with him. Twice. It isn't
possible. Paul? I know Scott's voice. A practical
joker. Someone could imitate Scott's voice, perhaps,
but... But what? But not the way Scott talks,
the way he forms those sentences. He has that
whole circular way of... The way Scott talks,
how he forms sentences, he has that circular
way. You realize you're using the present tense.
Because I just heard his voice. I'm sure you
did. Well, finally. In your mind. Oh, I see.
I imagined it. That's what you're implying. Well,
there are all kinds of technical terms we might
use to describe this phenomenon. But imagination
is as good a word as any. And it really tells
the story. But I heard the phone ring. I answered
it. It was Scott and I hung up. Yes, Jennifer.
Oh, please. No patronizing. Please. You and Scott.
The love match of the century. Of course, you
miss him, and so... And so what? And so you actually
did hear the phone ring. You actually did hear
Scott. And what did Scott say? He accused me
of murdering him. Well, did you? Did I what?
Do you think you murdered Scott? You were there
when Scott was killed you know how Scott was
killed. How can you ask if I killed him? I didn't
ask you if you killed him. I asked you if you
think you killed him It was an accident. I wasn't
even there. That's not the issue Perhaps you're
thinking if you had been more diligent more devoted
Scott might not have been there either I am trying
to tell you Paul did the better one die out in
the year that Scott's been dead. How many stories
have you sold? Well, I haven't really been trying
to... Before you married Scott and began the
famous Scott and Jennifer Partridge collaboration,
how many stories had you ever sold on your own?
Well, I'm having a... It's a case of block. Writers
block. It happens now and then. But you are writing.
And Martin tells me he's having trouble. Editors
complain something seems to be missing. People
are starting to talk. Was Scott the real creative
talent of the team? It's a lie. You may be one
of America's top psychiatrists, but you are still
a male chauvinist. You consider the fact of a
man and woman writing team, and what is your
automatic reaction? The man is the one who is
the true talent. I'm only trying to tell you...
Never mind that just now. Let's consider what
I'm trying to tell you. Yes? I'm trying to tell
you I heard Scott's voice on the telephone. Scott
called me on the telephone. And I'm trying to
tell you why you think... Well, who could that
be? Well, go ahead, answer it. I... I... Hello?
Hello. Doing anything, Jennifer? I thought we'd
chat. Just a minute. Paul it's Scott pick up
the extension. You'll see it's Scott There's
no one on the line It's just a dial tone, but
it was Scott He hung up. He didn't want you to
hear him, but he spoke to me. He spoke to me
Jennifer. He's dead Is that a fact but I tell
you is it a fact yes or no? Yes Then these conversations
can only be taking place in your mind But it
seems so real so real He looked deep into her
eyes into those smoldering passionate eyes of
and he knew Now he knew He knew how it could
be possible for a man to sacrifice his honor,
his career, his country. Do you have that, Miss
Kulit? Yes, Mrs. Partridge. Could you please
read it back? He looked deep into her eyes, into
those smoldering passions... Wait. The whole
passage, it sounds familiar. It sounds as if...
Yes, Mrs. Partridge. Now that you mention it...
Why should it sound familiar? You... You and
Mr. Partridge had written that same paragraph
five years ago in Dead Man's Merrick? Oh, yes.
Yes, that's right. I simply have to get away
from eyes. That was Scott's trick. May I come
in? Absolutely not. I'm working. How's it coming?
Splendidly. Level with me? Atrociously. I think
you're trying too hard. What does that mean?
Just relax. What did St. Clair think of the Merry
Christmas caper? He thinks you're trying too
hard. But I simply must... You simply must what?
Get something published this year. Why? Isn't
it obvious? People will say that Scott was the
writer. I don't know of anyone who's saying that.
But it's true. Now, look, Jennifer, honey, just
relax. You're nervous, high strung. Just like
a thoroughbred. No, thank you. It's flattering
to be compared with a horse. Well, baby, you
can compare an agent with a trainer. They both
have to nurse some very temperamental stock.
Tell you what we should do. Take three months
off, get married, go on a cruise. Martin, darling,
we can't get married until I get something of
my own published. Okay, okay. I know you understand,
darling. I understand. I'm not gonna win arguments
with you, so I came with a suggestion. Yes? People
have worked together so closely, so long as you
and Scott become dependent on each other. But
I'm trying to prove that I... Baby, sometimes
you just gotta listen. Because Scott died so
suddenly, the break was so... Well, it was too
abrupt. You know what I mean? You weren't prepared
for it. Now let Scott help you. What? What are
you saying? The day Scott died, he told me he
had just done a kind of treatment for a book
called, I Thought You Were Dead. What? You know
how he was. He'd fill up a whole yellow pad with
the story line. Well, he said he just did something
called, I Thought You Were Dead. Why not finish
it? I don't know what you're talking about. What?
You mean... you're not aware of the story? No.
Scott never discussed it with me. But he said
he had written 11 yellow pages. He had the whole
plot. Miss Kulert? Yes? Have you seen 11 yellow
pages? You know, the kind Mr. Partridge would
do by hand. Oh, no, Mrs. Partridge. Yeah. But
Scott said he wrote it up. Are you sure you haven't
seen it, Miss Kulert? No, sir. And I generally
know where everything is. Jennifer, you have
to write it. But Martin... Look, this whole thing
is psychological. For years, you and Scott worked
together. He became a habit with you. Well, not
everybody can quit a habit cold turkey, so move
away from him gradually. You see what I mean?
But we don't even know where the outline is.
It has to be in the house. We'll turn the place
inside out and upside down. We'll find those
11 yellow pages. Now let's start looking. I can
tell you, Martin, no one will ever find them.
Because long ago they had been reduced to ashes.
No earthly power can ever recreate them into
Scott's original yellow pages. I burned them,
destroyed them completely. I had to. Because,
otherwise, people might discover how I murdered
Scott. Scott and Jennifer. Year after year, best
-selling novels and award -winning stories would
stream from their typewriter. Why should she
murder the source of all her wealth? Why? Simple.
Didn't you ever hear the story of the goose that
laid the golden eggs? We'll have some interesting
little nuggets for you when I return shortly
with Act Two. Yesterday, the phone rang, and
Jennifer Partridge answered it. It was her husband,
Scott. They chatted briefly, and then Jennifer
hung up. But everyone knows that Scott has been
dead for over a year. Of course, what everyone
doesn't know is that Jennifer murdered him. The
sun rose, finally... First a pale rose glow on
the distant eastern horizon. No, no distant eastern
horizon. What an indigestible mouthful that is.
Damn. Descriptive narrative came so easily to
Scott. Why do I have to worry about the sun rising
in the distant eastern horizon? I'll just say
the next day. The next day. That's so abrupt.
Say, don't you hear that damn phone, Miss Kulit?
But, Mrs. Partridge, you always insist on answering
the phone yourself. Pick it up. Well, yes, ma
'am. Hello? Hello. Is that for you, Miss Kulit?
Yes, sir. Is Miss Partridge there? It's Mr. Evans.
Are you here, Mrs. Partridge? No. No, Mr. Evans.
Mrs. Partridge has gone out this morning. Tell
her to get on the phone. But she isn't here.
Tell her I have news from St. Clair. He has news
for Mr. St. Clair, Mrs. Partridge. All right,
I'll take it on my extension. Yes, Martin? Oh,
I see you came back. Martin, I do not like to
be disturbed while I'm working. What are you
working on? Something new. Drop it. What? I had
breakfast with St. Clair. Martin! I told him
you found an outline Scott had prepared before
he died. But I didn't find it. I told him the
title. But I don't know anything about it! But,
uh... He's been on the phone to the West Coast.
How do I know? Go ahead, ask me. Martin, you
must listen. I already got a call from one studio,
and you know what time it is out there? Seven
o 'clock in the morning. Martin! I haven't found
the story! Arnie! Martin? Martin! I've looked
everywhere, Mrs. Partridge, but I was unable
to find... Yes, well, we'll just have to keep
at it. Now, where were we? Oh, the opening paragraph,
the sun rose. No, make that the next day. I...
I don't know, I'm in no mood to... I can tell
this is going to be one of those mornings. Look,
Miss Culeck, why don't you take some time off?
Drive into town. I could look for those 11 pages.
Where? We've just about torn the whole place
apart. Then why don't I dust and clean some of
Mr. Partridge's trophies and things? If you like.
Some of the guns and knives should be oiled.
Well, make sure you're very careful. Actually,
we should have a gunsmith or someone like that
come... Oh, I don't mind at all, Mrs. Partridge,
and I know how to do it. Very well. Tell Mrs.
Mason to have lunch ready at 12, and that could
give us a long afternoon for work. Yes, Mrs.
Partridge. I... I really don't understand it.
What's that? Mr. Partridge, he was such a methodical
man. You know, a place for everything and everything
in his place. Yes, I remember that little homey
cliché used to drive me wild sometimes. Now,
every time he would finish writing his notes
or whatever on his yellow pad... He would always
tear off the pages and put them in his right
-hand desk drawer. Yes, well, they must be around
somewhere. But it's so unusual. I've looked everywhere.
Well, you recall the Edgar Allan Poe story about
the missing letter? Was in the middle of the
room in full view all the time? I'm sure that's
what we're dealing with here, too. Yes, Mrs.
Partridge. Oh, all right. All right. I'm not
afraid. Hello? Hello, darling. Scott? Yes, darling.
It's Scott. Who are you? What do you hope to
gain by... Dearest, I miss you. What are you
after? Have you won the Nobel Prize for Literature
yet? I am not willing to believe... Oh, but Scott
would know. I... I held you back, yes. I kept
you from expressing your genius. I restricted
you to trivial little detective pot -boilers.
I made you fritter away your talent. Whoever
you are, you have a game. You want something.
What is it? I want you, Jennifer. I love you.
We were so good together, in every way. What
do you want? You refuse to believe I'm scum.
Look, now you caught me off guard yesterday and
I was feeling low. But today, today I can laugh
at a practical joke even, even, even if it is
in horrible taste. Do you want me to prove? How
could you prove? Who but Scott would know why
you destroyed my yellow page outline? Ah, you're
listening. You're listening now, aren't you?
I don't even know... I don't know what outline
you're talking about. How she kills her husband.
And I left it lying around. I didn't think you'd
use it to kill me. Well, it doesn't matter now,
darling. It doesn't matter. We're incomplete
apart. I can't come to you. No. Therefore, you
must come to me. I didn't kill you. I'm just
losing my mind. But that morning, before I left
home, you inserted little transparent plastic
ring down the barrel in front of the chamber.
And so when I... No! When I pulled the trigger,
naturally, it got exploded in my face. No, no,
no, no! Miss Cullet found you lying on the floor.
Oh, it's Scott, Paul. I tell you, it's Scott.
Jennifer, I think you need a rest. Of course
I do, but that won't solve the problem. Now,
please, stop fighting me. I can't indulge you
in this childish fantasy. But let me tell you
why it is, Scott. Just listen. Not only is it
Scott's voice. Which an actor can imitate. But
it is Scott's diction, his idiom. Also well known
from Scott's writing and broadcasts. But there
are things that were known only to Scott and
me. How we felt about our writing and the quarrels
that we had and even... Yes? Even an outline
that no one else could know about. Well, I knew
about it. Scott mentioned it to me and to Martin
that morning. Well, you too. You were the only
ones who knew All right, Jennifer. Let's face
it these Conversations they really are taking
place but in your mind You simply have to believe
that Scott is on the telephone guilt and remorse
First you thought Scott was holding you back
getting a free ride on your talent. I never said
you're talking to me Jennifer You wanted to be
free of him. An accident happened. Scott was
killed. Your wish came true. I never wanted Scott
to be killed. Not consciously. But when he died,
that wish did come true. But you were wrong.
You can't work without Scott. But I spoke to
Scott. I'll tell you who's on the end of the
end of that phone. I'll tell you to whom you're
speaking. To your guilty conscience. Admit it.
And then face it and fight it. I can write without
Scott. You believe it don't you Paul? I mean
you do you believe it of course you can but you
can't work here not in this house Why? This isn't
a home. It's a museum Every room is dedicated
to Scott weapons souvenirs pictures Scott always
insisted on having the things he wrote about
in front of us all the time If we were going
to poison someone we'd we'd have that bottle
in front of us with the poison in it and and
We'd fill the bottle and we'd make it mean something
dynamic. And that's why we have all these things,
all these spears and these knives and these guns
and these... and everything. I agree. Realism
is great. But get rid of everything in this house
that you can associate with Scott. See, I still
love Scott. Clear the house of all this junk.
But how can I part with the things that have...
You'll never be free of Scott as long as everything
around you reminds you of Scott. Well, maybe,
Paul. You may just have something. Another thing.
You might get rid of Miss Cullet. Miss Cullet?
But she's a perfect gem. She's one of the reasons
you're trying too hard. Miss Cullet? Why, most
of the time I hardly know she's there. Well,
I'm afraid subconsciously you're thinking she's
comparing you with Scott. Oh, that's true. That
is true, and I never thought of it But I mean
she she's given us ten faithful years. How do
I I? know I'll tell her I'm going on a on a long
trip and I'll give her a year's pay Two years
pay be generous and be kind Just remember for
years now. She's had no other life except Working
here for you and Scott. Yes. Yes, I'll be very
considerate of her feelings the poor thing And
so it might very well be a year before I come
back miss Cuellar I understand mrs. Partridge
and if you should like to you know go to work
again soon Why mr. Evans knows of a great many
interesting openings that would be very kind
of him I'll miss you very much. No, ma 'am, you
won't miss me too much. I mean that, Miss Cuellar.
You won't miss me. Because I'm not going anywhere.
What did you say? Oh, I believe you heard what
I said, Mrs. Partridge. I have no intention of
leaving this house. Now, what's this? What makes
Miss Cullet think her employer can't fire her?
To say I have no intention of leaving this house.
Meek, Miss Cullet? We will have to hear some
more from Miss Cullet before we can properly
evaluate this latest development. And we shall
when I return shortly with Act 3. For ten years
mild modest and self -effacing Miss Cullet has
been secretary to the partridges Scott and Jennifer
Now Jennifer's doctor has ordered Jennifer to
revamp her entire life Get rid of everything
that could remind her of Scott everything and
everyone But the most astounding thing has just
happened Mousy Miss Cullet refuses to be fired.
I am not sure I heard what you said, Miss Cullet.
I said I have no intention of leaving this house.
That outline Mr. Partridge wrote, those eleven
pages of handwritten notes. Well? I found them.
You... found them? Yes, Mrs. Partridge. But that's...
that's... Impossible? Were you going to say impossible?
I... I know. You destroyed them, but I found
them before you burned them, and I made a copy.
I see. What do you want, Miss Culis? The notes
explain how a man was killed when his wife tampered
with the chamber of his shotgun. That's not proof
that I... Let's think for a minute and decide
what it is. Your husband's shotgun exploded in
his face, killing him. He had written a story
explaining how it could be done. You tried to
destroy that story. I will testify that you and
he fought. We had the normal disagreements any
husband and wife had. For ten years I sat in
this office like another chair or a piece of
furniture. The invisible Miss Kulit. I was a
machine and took down everything each of you
said and you said everything in front of me.
Everything as if I didn't exist. What do you
want I want Things as they are right now I Don't
know what that means. I want you to keep living
in fear Filled with fright worrying wondering
what I'm going to do about you. That's all you
want. It's enough. Why? What did I ever do to
you? What did you ever do to me? Oh How dare
you ask that. I ask because I don't know. You
killed the man I loved. The man you loved? You
killed Scott Partridge. He didn't even know you
were alive. Does that matter? Can you live without
the sun? Does the sun know you're alive? You
loved Scott? Love? Oh, what a weak, fragile word.
I had... Adored him. I worshiped him and you
killed him. You killed him. I don't believe you
Why did I stay here all these years? Yes What's
that mrs. Mason the moving men did you what oh
No, no, there must be some mistake I Will ask
mrs. Bartridge Mrs. Partridge, Mrs. Mason says
movers are here to take away all of Mr. Partridge's
things. Is that true? Yes. Oh, no. No, I won't
permit it. Mrs. Mason, dismiss those men. Mrs.
Partridge has just changed her mind. Now see
here, Miss Cuellars... I'll bring those notes
to the police station. I'll swear you threatened
to kill him. Nothing. Nothing in this house must
ever be changed. Do you understand? This place,
it must remain a shrine to his memory. No. No,
I don't care. I'm... I know I'm better. I was
always better. I'll kill her. I'll kill her too.
Don't ring. No, I won't answer. No, I won't.
I won't answer. Jennifer. Hello? Jennifer. Jennifer,
wake up. Jennifer, wake up. Paul. You were having
a nightmare. I was trying to put some notes together
and I just must have fallen asleep. What are
you doing here? Well, I happened to be in the
neighborhood. I thought I'd stop in and check
on you. Now, Jennifer, what's the meaning of
all this? All what? Well, I thought we'd agreed
to transform this house from a museum, from a
memorial to Scott, into a home for you. Well,
and, uh, Miss Cullet. She's downstairs cleaning
a revolver. Why is she still here? Because. Yes?
Because? Because that's how I want it. Something's
not right. The way Miss Cullet smiled at me when
I came in here today. Yes, Miss Cullet. As if
she knows something. But that's not what I find
strange. Miss Cullet. Miss Cullet's hidden facets
in Miss Cullet. It's not so much that I noticed
the smile. It's not It's the fact that I noticed
Miss Cullet. That's it. I noticed Miss Cullet
Jennifer Why didn't you fire her? Because I choose
to keep her. There's something about that woman.
I'll deal with Miss Cullet What does that mean?
Let me go back to work. Jennifer, the wastebasket
is overflowing. I'm going to keep trying. Try
to analyze your problem. What's blocking you?
Do what Scott would do. Don't you dare mention
his name. Learn from Scott. When faced with a
problem, how would Scott approach it? Scott.
Scott would say three magic words. And what were
they? Who? Why? How? Who? Why? How? Every good
story must have a strong who, a logical why,
a believable how. That's the telephone. Shall
I answer? No. Because if you answer, There'll
be no one on the other end. Let me. Hello. Hello,
darling. Scott. Jennifer, it can't be Scott.
How is the writing coming, darling? Why? How?
Jennifer, you know the how. It's Scott's voice
on the phone. Now discover the who and the why.
The who? and the why. What was that, darling?
The who and the why. You remember who, why and
how, don't you, Scott? Dearest, I don't remember.
Dearest, you are a phony and the little game
is over. And it nearly destroyed my mind, but
no more. Miss Cullet, I would like you to take
some dictation. I found another outline Mr. Partridge
had done some time ago. Oh? Are you ready? Oh,
yes, indeed. He calls this... If I loved you
twice as much, you'd be half as dead. Oh, poor
darling, Mr. Partridge. He would always begin
every treatment with a joke. Now he sets it up.
Husband, wife, secretary. Secretary idolizes
husband. Husband idolizes wife. Wife hates husband.
Wife... Murders husband? Are you getting all
this? Oh yes, yes. Secretary decides to drive
wife insane. Secretary hires actor to impersonate
husband's voice on phone. He wrote that? Secretary
knows all the inside intimate details of husband
-wife relationship. Coaches actor so he can sound
authentic. Yes wife believes actor is husband
until until what? Don't you know? How would I
know? until wife discovers Secretary is behind
it all then Then what then wife? kills secretary.
How? Like this. Oh, no. Don't touch me with that.
Don't touch me. No. Oh, no. Get me to a doctor.
You've killed me. Of course. This dart the tip
is covered with. I know. I know. Oh, please.
Call a doctor. I'm getting dizzy. I... Poison,
curare. Scott and I used it as the gimmick in
our South American jungle mystery. Please, call
the doctor. He could do nothing for you now.
You little fool. It was a good try. You did hire
an excellent actor. I compliment you. I... I
didn't hire anyone. Forget it. But I... I didn't.
What do you mean you didn't hire anyone who else
if it wasn't you Then who why how miss kill it
miss kill it answer me Hello Oh, please, who
are you? Who else could I be? Scott? No, Scott!
Darling, you killed so quickly for such trivial
reasons. Poor girl, she should have done you
no harm. Me, couldn't you be generous enough
to share part of the fame with me? Scott, if
I could only do it over again. Scott, what's
going to happen to me? You can't make it on your
own, sweetheart. You need me. Scott, I need you
so badly. Darling, you know the pills we used
in Murder of the Month? No, no. Just one pill.
You'll go quickly, easily, no pain. You'll just
fall quietly, pleasantly asleep. I'm afraid.
I'll be with you. And hopefully they are together
again. Not just the two of them, but the three
of them. After all, they need Miss Cullet, too.
And they're probably writing mysteries upstairs
for the heavenly version of Mystery Theatre.
So, when you go to your Just Reward, you won't
have to miss your favorite program. Well, tonight
we did more than just entertain you. We also
taught you one of the tricks of the trade—who,
why, how. Those are the three magic words. Our
cast included Arlene Francis, Mary Jane Higby,
Robert Dryden, and Guy Sorrell. 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.