In this captivating episode of the CBS Radio Mystery Theater, host E.G. Marshall presents "The Black Door," a thrilling adaptation of a story by Arthur Conan Doyle. The narrative follows attorney John Albemarle, who becomes embroiled in a mysterious case involving a young man named Michael Torrance. Michael lives in a vast, empty mansion with a sealed black door, left behind by his father, a banker who disappeared under a cloud of financial scandal. As Albemarle delves deeper into the mystery, he uncovers a tale of family secrets, forbidden rooms, and a father's desperate attempt to protect his loved ones from the truth.
As the story unfolds, Albemarle learns of the tragic circumstances surrounding Michael's family, including the mysterious death of his father and the psychological toll it has taken on Michael. The episode explores themes of honor, reputation, and the lengths one might go to preserve them. With a gripping narrative and a haunting atmosphere, "The Black Door" keeps listeners on the edge of their seats, questioning the true nature of the secrets we keep and the impact they have on our lives.
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The CBS radio mystery theater presents
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Come in.
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Welcome. I'm EG Marshall. We're back again with that master mystery storyteller, Arthur Conan Doyle. Today's tale is the story of a secret. Who of us does not have some skeleton in his closet, unwanted, unwished for? As an ancient proverb tells us, a secret is your slave if you keep it, your master
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if you lose it. I cannot bring myself to go in that door. Supposing we let Cartwright go in first. He has the lamp. I'll follow him, Michael, and then you. I thought I had the key. None of these seem to fit. Then we can't open it. But these are the keys your power gave me before he died. If the black door can't be unlocked, there's only one thing to do. Break it down.
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Our mystery drama, The Black Door, is adapted from a story by a Conan Doyle, especially for the Mystery Theater by g Frederick Lewis and stars Kevin McCarthy. It is sponsored in part by Contact, the twelve hour cold capsule, and True Value Hardware stores. I'll be back shortly with act one. Much has been written about the London fog, the p super, the blinding kind, the kind that keeps you from seeing your hand in front of your face. It was on such a dim and shadowy night, Conan Doyle tells us, that attorney John Albermar witnessed the accident
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that changed his life. Look out. You on that bicycle. Look out.
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A young man on the bike was suddenly cut in front of a horse drawn carriage and was knocked down. But before you could say Jack Robinson, the driver had lashed at his horse and the four wheeler disappeared into the fog. Oh, my leg. My leg. Any harm done, young man? It's my ankle.
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It's only a twist, I think, but it's quite painful. Just give me a hand, will you? Of course. Of course.
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Up we go.
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Oh. Hope it's not broken. I can't put any weight on it. And where do you live? Right here. This, big house behind the wall. I was pedaling across to the gate and that compound of terror ran into me.
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I'll sue that driver if I ever catch him. Well, I don't think you'll have much of a case. It was your fault. You steered your bicycle directly in front of him. Oh, what do you mean my fault? Are you a lawyer or something? A matter of fact, I am. But let's let's save the introductions until I get you into your house. I put the broken bicycle inside the gate and supported the young man down the driveway of his house and up the steps to the front door. Now the light was shining inside. The place was as black and silent as if no one had ever lived in it. I say, do you always keep it so dark in your hallway?
The,
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first door on the right, if you'll just see me in there. Door's open. I never close it. Mhmm. There's a lamp on the table if you'd be so kind as to light it.
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Tell me, is there no one else in this house? I'm I'm perfectly alright. Not to worry. You may leave me now. I do thank you for your assistance. I don't like the looks of that ankle. It's swelling up. Will you please go?
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Will will you go now? I I don't
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With that, the young man fainted dead away, his face a ghastly white. I lifted him onto the bed, seized the lamp, and ran from room to room to get help. The entire house was deserted, thick with dust, hardly a stick of furniture. The kitchen, there must be someone there. No. No one. Through the house I went, every room quite empty. At the top of the stairs, I was stopped by a large black door with a great red wax seal across it. I ran back down.
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Why on earth did you take the lamp away? I I can't bear sitting in the dark. I'm glad you recovered. I went looking for someone. You might look for some time. I'm I'm alone in the house. Alone?
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Devilish awkward, have you got sick? It was foolish of me to faint. I
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I inherit a weak heart from my mother. Any pain or emotion has that effect on me. Mhmm. It'll probably kill me someday as it did my mother.
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Did you say you were a doctor? Lawyer. Lawyer. John Albemarle. Pleased to know you. I'm Michael Torrance.
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Funny, I should meet a lawyer in such a strange fashion. Mister Cartwright was saying that we should be needing one pretty soon. Certainly. Anything I can do. John Albemarle. Imagine having a solicitor pick me up from the street. You, went about the house to find someone, you said? Did you go into all the rooms? I think so.
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Upstairs as well? Oh, yes. The house is quite deserted. All the way upstairs? As far as I could. Then
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you saw it. Saw what? At the top of the stairs. The black
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door. Yes. Yes. I did. I didn't try to open it because of the waxy across the keyhole. Weren't you curious to know what was in that room? I was rather. The seal, the door, it, yes, it did strike me as being a bit unusual. Tell me, mister Albemarle,
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do you think you could go on alone, living in this house year after year, longing all the time to know what is on the other side of a certain door, and yet not daring to look.
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Mister Torrance, do you mean to say that you don't know yourself? What's behind that black door? No more than you do. But then why don't you open it? I am forbidden too. I see. I see. Well, I say, if you don't mind, I think I should be on my way. Oh, are you in a hurry? No. No. No. No. Not particularly. Just on my way home. But I live down the embankment a ways, you know, and it does take time going through the fog. I I should be very glad if you would stay with me for a bit.
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The fact is, mister Oliver, I live a very retired and secluded life here. Can you stay just a little? Well, I'm I lead presuming upon our short acquaintance, I know. But, how can I say it? I'm I'm beginning to realize something is happening to me and and well, running deliberately into that carriage tonight, I I saw it coming. What was I trying to do? I I don't follow you. What I'm saying, mister Elberballe, is that I have been keeping so much bottled up inside of me that if I don't tell someone soon, I'm I'm afraid that I am slowly but surely going mad.
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I looked about me at the one room in this vast house that was furnished. A grandfather clock, a sofa bed, a table covered with papers, a decanter and glasses, a hot plate of a chair. There was something grotesque about it all. I knew that I couldn't leave Michael Torrance in the state he was in. Would you please stay? Certainly. Certainly. I should be very happy to. Oh, splendid.
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You will find spirits and a siphon on the table. Forgive me if I don't act as a host, but my thought is still a bit sore. Those are cigars in the tray. Help us out. And would would you bring me one? Thank you. So, you are a solicitor, mister Albemarle. Yes. Mhmm. How fortunate you are, sir. You are a lawyer and I am nothing. I am that most helpless of living creatures, the son of a millionaire. I was brought up with the expectation of great wealth and here I am, a poor man without any profession at all. And on top of that, all I'm left with is a great mansion which I cannot afford to keep and cannot sell or rent. Why not? I am forbidden to by instructions left me by my father.
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Strange. Oh, you must know that my father was HC Torrance, the banker. Torrance. Torrance. Of course. Of course. I knew that name rang a bell. So you,
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know about the scandal?
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Well, well, I recall something written in the papers at that time. Some financial dealings of his that went sour and, Then he left the country.
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Mhmm. My poor father. He left England to avoid all his friends whose savings he had invested in an unsuccessful speculation. You see, father was a very nervous and sensitive man. Perhaps I inherited that from him. But if I remember, he was never accused of having done anything criminal. Oh, no. No. No. Purely a matter of sentiment. He couldn't even face his own family, and he died among strangers without ever letting us know where he was. He died,
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My mother and I, we
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we couldn't prove his death, but we we knew he must be dead. How? Well, because after several years, his speculations came right back again. His friends, all of them, made quite a packet. So there was no reason why father should not come back to England and look them all in the face. Oh, he he would have returned if he were alive. I'm sure of it. When did you last hear from him? When let me see. I thought so muddled in my head. I know the first two years after he left, my mother received a letter each year.
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And then your father didn't say where he was living? No. He never gave her a tin address. So there were only only two letters? Three, all told.
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That's where the mystery of the sealed up black door all began. You know, I would like very much to have you look at those letters.
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Mister Eleanor, you are the only person in the world besides mister Cartwright who even knows about them. Oh, no. No. No. Look. May may I call you Michael? Please do. Michael, the hour is quite late. And I suggest it best you prepare yourself for bed and try for a good night's sleep.
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I really should be on my way. I understand. I've asked too much of you already. I want you to know though, mister Albemarle, you've already restored some of my sanity. You have no idea how terrible a day today has been for me. May I ask why? Well, I've just come back from the cemetery having buried my dear mother. The prospect of continuing alone is almost
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more than I can bear. Michael, why don't I stop by tomorrow? I'll well, I'd like to look in on you and see how you're getting on. Would you, please?
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Lord, what a horrendous day this has been a I hope I shan't experience another like it as long as I live.
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No wonder Michael Torrance had appeared strange to me that evening. A young man who obviously needed friendship, needed love, and suddenly found himself alone in the world, orphaned. But the following afternoon, I was sitting in my office when a tall, aesthetic looking gentleman walked in with the aid of a cane. Would I please see him? It was most urgent. Mister Albemarle, I hope you will forgive this intrusion. May I introduce myself? My name is Cartwright. I'm a friend of Michael Torrance. Oh, yes. Yes. Yes. He told me. You are the executor of the Torrance Estate, I believe. In a way, yes.
May I speak quite frankly? I prefer it. Master Michael came to see me early this morning. I was not yet up. Mister Albemarle, in my opinion, by defending that young man, you may have stumbled into a hornet's nest. I don't follow you. I would advise you, as an old and trusted friend of Michael's father, that you forget the entire episode. Put it out of your mind. Disregard what I saw with my own eyes. Master Michael has a tendency to dramatize events. I'm very appreciative of what you did for him last night, and so is he. I understand he ran into a carriage and you assisted him into his house. But what I fail to understand, mister Cartwright, is why you feel at best that I forget the young man's existence.
As for that black door You saw it? Of course. Michael and I discussed it. Well, I I'm sorry to hear that. In fact, I had intended visiting Michael today. I left him quite of a rot, which is, of course, quite understandable in the person who had buried his mother that very day. He said that. No. Why not? He has no reason to hide it. Master Michael told you he had buried his mother yesterday? You appear incredulous. Isn't his mother dead? Oh, yes. Mrs. Collins is dead, but she died and was buried two years ago.
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Somewhere, Michael Torrance has mislaid two years. It has been said that great emotional stress expands and contracts time. Many tragedies suffered in one's past are often as fresh as though they happened yesterday. Conversely, what happened yesterday could already be forgotten. And as for the mysterious black door, now a third person shares the secret, mister Cartwright, the man with a walking stick. More will unfold when we return shortly with act two. John Albemarle, an English barrister, has taken on many legal cases in his day, but none as puzzling as the one he happened on by accident. That of the son of a millionaire banker whose memory appears disturbed, and whose nights are spent in a mansion of empty rooms, and a sealed door painted black.
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I made no promises to mister Cartwright not to see young Torrance again. He gave me his card and as soon as he had gone, I hailed a cab giving the driver Michael's address. I rang for a long time. Finally, he came to the door. The glassy look in his eyes had disappeared. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me. And as we sat over whiskey in his one room, I told him of Cartwright's visit. Well, that is strange.
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He asked me who you were. Naturally, I told him. Gave him your address, but if I never dreamed he'd go see you, I wonder why. Michael, just who is he? Cartwright? Mhmm. Oh, he was my father's confidential clerk, More of an assistant, really. And he continued to be both friend and adviser to my mother and then myself. I don't know what I should have done without him. I hope, Michael, that he is as good a friend as you say. I was wondering whether you'd come back to see me, so I dug out a letter I felt you'd be interested to see. It's the very first one which came for my father seven years ago when he left England. It was written to my mother. I haven't looked at it in years, but I can still almost remember it word for word. I'll confess to you, mister Alba Mar.
Just to hold that letter in my hand disturbs me deeply. I understand. I don't think you do. The the paper, the ink, the the very shape of the words in his handwriting, They spring out at me.
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I can almost hear his voice as I read it. Let me then. No. No. I must.
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I must rid myself of this constant feeling that my father is watching my every move. It's an obsession. I know. I must face up to it. Now, this is what he says. My ever dearest wife,
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since the doctors have told me quite privately how weak your and how harmful any shock might be, I can no longer refrain from telling you that things have been going badly with me. This will cause me to leave you for a little time, but it is with the absolute assurance that we shall see each other very soon. Don't let our parting impair your health.
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For that, I want above all things to avoid. I I can't go on, mister Albemarle. Do forgive me. I I cannot bring myself to read anymore. May I look at the letter? Oh. Thank you. Mhmm.
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Mhmm. Yes. He details how the black door is to be kept sealed until you are 21.
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How old were you then? Oh, 14. Mhmm. Sir, read how he ends the letter. It will help you understand what a kind and considerate man he was.
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And now goodbye, my own best of wives. During our short separation, you should consult mister Cartwright on any matters which should arise. He has my complete confidence ever and always. Your loving husband, Hugh, June four eighteen eighty one.
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You know, my father was a man noted for his almost fanatical love of the truth. He was always accurate to the penny. When he said in that letter seven years ago that he hoped to see my mother very soon, you may rely on it that he meant it. Michael, it seems to me that you are living in the shadow of something quite mysterious,
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And you should either open the black door or find yourself accommodations elsewhere.
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It's not good for you to remain here. I couldn't dream of disobeying my father. Did you read his instructions carefully about the door? Let let me have it there. Okay. Here's the place. Listen to this. I have a request to make and I implore you to Exactly. An idea.
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There are some things I do not wish to be seen by anyone in the room at the top of the stairs. The one with the black door that I used as my private study. I assure you, it is nothing to be ashamed of, but I do not wish you or Michael to enter that room. The door is locked, and I implore you, when you receive this, to place a seal over the lock and plead it so. Do not sell or rent the house or leave it unattended, lest my secret be discovered. When Michael is 21 years old, he may enter the womb. Not before.
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What reason could he possibly have had? Well, neither mother or I had any idea. But we followed his instructions to the letter, placed a seal upon the black door, and it's been there ever since. Mother lived for five years after father's disappearance, although all the doctors had said she couldn't possibly live that long. Her heart, it was very weak. Had been since childhood.
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So your mother lived for five years after mister Torrance left England? Yes. Why? And that was seven years ago? Why do you ask? Michael, I do insist as a new friend that it is harmful for you to stay on in this house with its secret at the top of the stairs. You say your mother died five years after your father left, which was seven years ago. Which would mean she died two years ago. Exactly.
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Why? Have I said something different?
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Yesterday, when I brought you in after the accident, you said it had been a terrible day, that you had just come from the cemetery, that afternoon, had buried your mother. I said that?
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Oh, no. I'm doing it again. Oh, no.
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I'm no doctor or psychologist whatsoever, but I do know that to extend the hand of friendship when it is needed can be the best medicine there is. I reassured Michael that anyone could have lapses of memory and that the emotional strain he was under could even alter the fact of time in his mind. I took him to my club for dinner and we strolled back to his house along the Chelsea Embankment.
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No. That house has no happy memories for me. After father left, mother and I were gradually compelled to sell the furniture and dismiss the servants. And, well, as you saw, I'm living alone in one single room. But there is a bright side. What's that? If I can only hang on in a little over two months, I shall be 21. I keep telling myself, the first thing I shall do is unseal and open the black door, and the second,
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get rid of the house. You know, something about all this plagues me. Why did your father remain out of the country once the investments he advised others to make recovered? Well, he must be dead. Why? Having done nothing actually wrong and leaving England because he couldn't bear to face his friends, why didn't he take your mother with him? Well, I don't know. Why no return address on his letters to her? Why conceal it? I don't know. Why allow your mother to die and be buried and still not return to England? Sir, I I just don't know.
I'm gonna tell you as a man who has known many an innocent person and many who are guilty, it's clear to me your father had important reasons, vital ones for staying away. That although nothing criminal could have been proven against him, he must have been afraid something might be, And he refused to put himself within the powers of law. Stop that.
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That will you stop saying that? I told you. He must have died. Is there any other way the facts can be explained? I don't care about explanations. I remember him as an ideal man. His only fault was that he was too too sensitive, too unselfish. That anyone should lose a penny through him was unthinkable. My father was a man of honor. Forgive me my boy if I appear callous.
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We lawyers have a way of assessing the fact as we find
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them Mike Mike look out look
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out I managed to pull Michael back from the road in time just in time as the carriage came charging down on him It disappeared into the night, and we both stood there gathering our wits and our breaths. Oh,
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a a close call.
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That's twice on two different nights you were almost run down. Did you, see who the driver was? No. I can't say that I did. Was there someone in the carriage? I I had just a glimpse of a man waving a walking stick out the window. Now let's get into your house. It may be gloomy, but it's safer. What's that you see there?
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It's a walking stick. Must have dropped from the carriage. Take a look at this, mister Alberlle. Have you ever seen it before?
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Yes. I have. Somewhere. Or one very much like it. Cor have I. Do you know whose it is?
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Not really. Mister Cartwright's. It's identical to the one he carries.
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I saw less and less of young Michael Torrance as the days and weeks went on. He had no more lapses of memory or alteration of dates and seemed quite cheery at the prospect of his approaching birthday. And then one day, I was in my law offices in Lincoln's Inn Fields when someone knocked at my door with a cane. Why, mister Cartwright, what brings you here? The day of the month and the month of the year. Are you being cryptic on purpose? Come in. Come in. Come in. Don't stand the doorway. Thank you, mister Albemarle. Sit down.
May I take your cane? No. Thank you. I need it to get drowned. Oh, oh, then you are never without it. Oh, I have several walking sticks. I shouldn't be able to go up or downstairs or in and out of the carriage without one. But, setting that aside, my charge, master Michael Torrance has told me he would like you to be present today. Present where? At his house this evening. Why this evening? Oh. Oh. Is he 21 today? At midnight. The door? The black door? Has he opened it? Not yet. But, he will tonight. And Michael would like me there when it's opened? Yes. It is his wish also.
Actually, it was I who persuaded him to ask you. I have certain reasons to believe it would be well to have a reliable witness when the seal is broken. And, since you are a lawyer and already acquainted with the facts of the situation, may we count on you? Most certainly. Mister Cartwright, yes, I seem to remember your last visit here. You were warning me to stay out of this affair. I was afraid you might be one of those who try to take advantage of master Michael. Others have cried. I had similar suspicions about you, mister Cartwright. I know.
The walking stick he found in the street. Master Michael told me it was not mine. Sometimes what we think is evil intent is nothing more than coincidence. I wish all things evil were mere coincidence, but I'm afraid not. Be good enough to hand me my cane, will you?
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As with all stories by the great Conan Doyle, there is always an underlying meaning. Not that we wish to give this tale more weight than it can carry. It is, after all, first and last, the story of a secret. Somewhere, however, runs the thread of honor and dishonor. Hang on, for act three will begin shortly, and that is the act that usually has all the answers. Let us set the scene. Lawyer John Albemarle arrives at the Torrance mansion a little after nine. Michael, about to turn 21, is quiet and afraid. Mister Cartwright, at first talkative, affable, becomes paler as the hour grows later.
10:00, eleven, and then it is a quarter hour before midnight.
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It's as if all my life I've been waiting for this moment It seems only yesterday father went away My mother got one letter from him and next year she got another Did I ever tell you mister Albemarle they were both postmarked pairs? Yes you didn't Funny. They both said practically the same thing even though he sent them a year apart. That he and mother would soon be reunited. Was that, quarter of twelve that struck?
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Yes. It was. We haven't long to wait now. Then when mother died, there was the last letter I received from him.
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Did I ever tell you about that one, mister Albemarle? You may have mentioned it, Michael. You never showed it to me. Oh, I've put it away. I'll keep it forever. Such a sweet and wonderful letter it was. So typical of father, begging me never to think evil of him, as if I could. Saying that sealing up the black door wasn't as important now as when it was when mother was alive, but that I should be a good boy and wait. I was 19, and he wrote to me as if I were 15 or 16. Funny the feelings that come over you is if all my life I've been waiting for the clock to strike twelve. It's what comes, I guess, of being born at midnight.
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The clock began to strike twelve and there we were, on the threshold of unlocking the door end of mystery. Cartwright led the way up the stairs, an oil lamp in one hand, his cane in the other. I followed him, and behind me came Michael. We reached the last landing. There was the black door with its seal directly in front of us. I felt Michael's hand on my arm. I don't feel well. Michael, it's alright. I I can't go in there. Well, I'd best knock off the seal first. I'll use my walking stick. I can't. I can't. And suppose Cartwright goes in first. He has a lamp. I'll follow him and then you, Michael. What say? I thought I had the key.
None of these seem to fit. Well, then we can't open it. Michael, there's nothing to be afraid of in there. Isn't that a joke? After seven years, we can't open the door after all. What do you think we should do, mister Albemarle? Wait. It won't be different in the morning. It doesn't matter whether we tackle this tonight or tomorrow. There's only one thing to do. Break the door down. I've got heavy shoe now. Let me you did it. Are you alright, mister Albemarle? Yes. I'm surprised I could put my foot through the door panel so easily. Master Michael, I hope you're able to prepare yourself in the event that what you see in this room, may be a very great shock to you. What do you mean?
Brace yourself, master Michael. Well, you go first. I I think it should be yourself. Here is the oil lamp. If you reach through the broken panel, perhaps you can open the door. Give me the lamp. Good boy, Michael.
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Oh, there's a key in the door on the inside, and that's why you couldn't get it open. I think I can unlock it.
[00:31:55] Unknown:
Go ahead, Michael.
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Yeah. I'm going. I'm going.
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Oh, I think I got into heaven.
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The lamp. No. It's on fire. It's spilling oil all over the floor. Cartwright. Cartwright. Come in here.
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Help me. Help me beat out these flames. Michael dropped the lamp. There's a short run here, mister Albemarle. Grab that end of it. Paul, Paul, here we are. There. There. Oh, we have it off the floor. Let's get it over here. Right? No. Slap it down over the over the lamp and the flames. That does it.
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Oh, so much smoke. The flames are off though.
[00:32:43] Unknown:
Let's smoke it. Oh, it's a dust and everything dry in here. Where's Michael? He can't see. It's so dark. Smoke. He he's lying on the floor over here. I I'm afraid he's passed out. Michael. Michael, wake up. Come on, Michael.
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What is it?
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What what what happened? You dropped the oil lamp. It caught fire. It's alright now. Where's mister Cop back? Gone to fetch another lamp, I expect. What happened to you? Did you trip? I I saw
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him sitting there. Who? My father. What? Found another lamp. Oh,
[00:33:30] Unknown:
Lord in heaven. My poor master. My poor, poor master. A single table and a chair were in front of us. And sitting on it, his back turned, was a man in the act of writing. His outline was as natural as life. But as the light fell on him, I could see the back of his neck was black and wrinkled and no thicker than my wrist. Thick gray dust lay everywhere. On the man's shoulders, his hair, his shriveled, lemon colored hands. His head had fallen forward on his chest. The pen still rested on a discolored sheet of paper. My master.
Oh, my poor, poor master. Is that mister Torrance himself? There he has sat for seven years. Why did he do it? I I begged him. I begged him. But he would have his way. He locked the door on the inside and then sat himself down. He was writing something. I can make out the words. Reach over and take it, mister Albemarle. I would do it, but I I must leave the room. I I cannot bear to be in here a moment longer. Michael, stand up, my boy. We'll go downstairs. I think that we've seen enough of this. Death hangs over everything.
[00:35:05] Unknown:
My father.
[00:35:06] Unknown:
It was he in that room sitting dead in that chair. You knew he was there, Cartwright. You've known it all along. Yes. I knew it, Master Michael, but you must believe me. I have acted for the best all along. It's hard for me to accept.
[00:35:20] Unknown:
For seven years, you've known my father was dead behind that black door. You never said a word to my mother or my cell. How could I say anything?
[00:35:28] Unknown:
Oh, don't be harsh with me, Master Michael. Make allowances for a man who has had a hard part to play. Oh, my head is swimming. I can't grasp it.
[00:35:39] Unknown:
Those letters to my mother and myself, they
[00:35:41] Unknown:
they were forgeries? Oh, no. Your father wrote every word, and he addressed them and left them in my keeping to be posted. Oh, believe me. I followed his instructions to the very letter. He was my master, and I obeyed him. I've calmed down, sir, mister Cartwright. It's it's alright. Now, please,
[00:36:03] Unknown:
tell us about it. I I can stand it.
[00:36:06] Unknown:
It was in this very room, Master Michael. You you remember this used to be the morning room. Seven years ago it was and he called me in here. Your father did?
[00:36:20] Unknown:
That's right. I'm sure you're aware this is a period of great trouble for me. There's no hope for it. A great many people, even some who had few savings, are losing everything because of me. Well, it's not your fault entirely, mister Torrance. It is my fault entirely. Every person I advise knows I've betrayed them. Oh, no, sir. God right. You see before you a man who deserves no place among the ditty. But you're too hard upon yourself. Dishonor and betrayal. What is there left for me? What do you mean, sir? I shall tell you.
To leave this world, it's not as easy as one would wish. What I tell you now is in secret confidence, Cartwright. You have my word. The finest doctors I could find here in London have told me that my wife's heart could fail her with the slightest shock. How can I do away with myself then? You must not, sir. There's the answer. I have made up my mind. Now listen. My wife has been given a few months to live at most. I shall write two letters. No. Three. You will go to Paris, can't right, and mail each to my wife a month apart. Then, on that unhappy day, when she passes away, you will mail a third letter which I shall address to my son.
That way, I will be thought still alive.
[00:38:04] Unknown:
I shall go up to my study now. Mister Torrance, I beg you, think again for the sake of all those you love, for those who love you. Please,
[00:38:17] Unknown:
please, no more. Pray for me, Cartwright.
[00:38:29] Unknown:
And I never saw mister Torrance again until tonight. How could he? How could he
[00:38:38] Unknown:
that the sheer deceit in those letters to my mother? We shall meet again soon. His words,
[00:38:44] Unknown:
making her think he was coming back. Oh, no, Master Michael. You don't understand at all. Your father believed your mother had only weeks to live. He meant what he wrote. He was certain she would die very shortly. The doctors had said so. Then they would be reunited in death. Don't you see? But your mother lived on for five whole years. I I had only two letters addressed to her to send. Michael, how could mister Cartwright do otherwise? He promised your father and sent the two letters. He gave his word. And then two years ago, he sent your father's letter to you.
[00:39:27] Unknown:
I see it all now, but it seems so useless. His death so wasted.
[00:39:33] Unknown:
Well, how could your father have known? Michael, I beg you to forgive me for keeping his secret. I I meant no harm. Believe me, every day I spent under this roof with your mother and yourself, every day was torture for me. I knew he was up there, and many times I felt he was watching me. Yes. Strange you should say that. I did too. I promised him. What could I do? I
[00:40:04] Unknown:
I gave my word. I don't blame you. Spared my mother a very great shock, that I'm sure of. Had she the slightest inkling what was behind the black door, it would have broken her heart. So she died believing he was still somewhere alive.
[00:40:21] Unknown:
Oh, what is that paper mister Albemarle was giving you? It is what mister Torrance was writing. Do you wish to see it? Please.
[00:40:32] Unknown:
It's very faded, isn't it? Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I I can read it. I have taken the poison, and I feel it working in my veins.
[00:40:47] Unknown:
It is strange, but not painful. When these words are read, I shall, if my wishes have been faithfully carried out, have been dead many years. Surely, no one who has lost money through me will still bear me animosity. And you, my dear son Michael, you will forgive me this family scandal. I lay down my pen and pray, may God find rest for a sorely, wearied spirit.
[00:41:34] Unknown:
Conan Doyle's tale of the secret behind the black door recalls for us many elements of truth. In a number of lands, a man will place his reputation before his life, paying the supreme penalty as a matter of honor. As the saying goes, death before dishonor. To us here today, life is so precious and valuable, it would be hard for us to do the same. Or would it? I shall be back to give you my opinion shortly. How often have we heard the words, I'd rather have a good name than great riches? That mobile reputation, the bard called it. All of us seek it. Why is it so important?
The only way I can answer it is by turning the question around. Honor, prestige, integrity, where would we be without them? For aren't those the attributes that give humanity to us poor humans? Our cast included Kevin McCarthy, Russell Horton, and Guy Sorrell. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now a preview of our next tale are you saying that Lorna Pilbeam Louisa Plowright and Laverne Preston may be one and the same person. And two years before that, sir, a missus Lillian Pumice collected $2,000 on the death of her husband, Leander.
Missus Pumice was 29 years old, sir. And I am to assume that all the husbands were elderly gentlemen? Yes, sir. And all passed away from heart attacks? So the physicians
[00:43:27] Unknown:
stated, sir.
[00:43:29] Unknown:
How do you account for the fact that she seems to marry men whose names begin with p? Well, sir, it would seem then to be unnecessary for her to change the monogram on her linens and silver. Yeah. Well, Condeco, what is your recommendation? I suggest, sir, that we investigate the matter thoroughly before we pay missus Pilbeam a penny. Missus E. G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time,
[00:44:05] Unknown:
pleasant
What you're hearing is Hardie fiber cement siding living up to its reputation as the siding that handles hail impact with ease. James Hardie knows how important a reputation is, especially when you're a contractor. That's why Hardie's siding withstands severe weather better than vinyl siding, with styles to match its strength, so you can be sure you're providing your clients with the best. Protect your reputation with exterior products by James Hardie.
[00:00:31] Unknown:
The CBS radio mystery theater presents
[00:00:51] Unknown:
Come in.
[00:00:54] Unknown:
Welcome. I'm EG Marshall. We're back again with that master mystery storyteller, Arthur Conan Doyle. Today's tale is the story of a secret. Who of us does not have some skeleton in his closet, unwanted, unwished for? As an ancient proverb tells us, a secret is your slave if you keep it, your master
[00:01:18] Unknown:
if you lose it. I cannot bring myself to go in that door. Supposing we let Cartwright go in first. He has the lamp. I'll follow him, Michael, and then you. I thought I had the key. None of these seem to fit. Then we can't open it. But these are the keys your power gave me before he died. If the black door can't be unlocked, there's only one thing to do. Break it down.
[00:01:52] Unknown:
Our mystery drama, The Black Door, is adapted from a story by a Conan Doyle, especially for the Mystery Theater by g Frederick Lewis and stars Kevin McCarthy. It is sponsored in part by Contact, the twelve hour cold capsule, and True Value Hardware stores. I'll be back shortly with act one. Much has been written about the London fog, the p super, the blinding kind, the kind that keeps you from seeing your hand in front of your face. It was on such a dim and shadowy night, Conan Doyle tells us, that attorney John Albermar witnessed the accident
[00:02:40] Unknown:
that changed his life. Look out. You on that bicycle. Look out.
[00:02:47] Unknown:
A young man on the bike was suddenly cut in front of a horse drawn carriage and was knocked down. But before you could say Jack Robinson, the driver had lashed at his horse and the four wheeler disappeared into the fog. Oh, my leg. My leg. Any harm done, young man? It's my ankle.
[00:03:08] Unknown:
It's only a twist, I think, but it's quite painful. Just give me a hand, will you? Of course. Of course.
[00:03:15] Unknown:
Up we go.
[00:03:18] Unknown:
Oh. Hope it's not broken. I can't put any weight on it. And where do you live? Right here. This, big house behind the wall. I was pedaling across to the gate and that compound of terror ran into me.
[00:03:32] Unknown:
I'll sue that driver if I ever catch him. Well, I don't think you'll have much of a case. It was your fault. You steered your bicycle directly in front of him. Oh, what do you mean my fault? Are you a lawyer or something? A matter of fact, I am. But let's let's save the introductions until I get you into your house. I put the broken bicycle inside the gate and supported the young man down the driveway of his house and up the steps to the front door. Now the light was shining inside. The place was as black and silent as if no one had ever lived in it. I say, do you always keep it so dark in your hallway?
The,
[00:04:12] Unknown:
first door on the right, if you'll just see me in there. Door's open. I never close it. Mhmm. There's a lamp on the table if you'd be so kind as to light it.
[00:04:22] Unknown:
Tell me, is there no one else in this house? I'm I'm perfectly alright. Not to worry. You may leave me now. I do thank you for your assistance. I don't like the looks of that ankle. It's swelling up. Will you please go?
[00:04:37] Unknown:
Will will you go now? I I don't
[00:04:43] Unknown:
With that, the young man fainted dead away, his face a ghastly white. I lifted him onto the bed, seized the lamp, and ran from room to room to get help. The entire house was deserted, thick with dust, hardly a stick of furniture. The kitchen, there must be someone there. No. No one. Through the house I went, every room quite empty. At the top of the stairs, I was stopped by a large black door with a great red wax seal across it. I ran back down.
[00:05:23] Unknown:
Why on earth did you take the lamp away? I I can't bear sitting in the dark. I'm glad you recovered. I went looking for someone. You might look for some time. I'm I'm alone in the house. Alone?
[00:05:35] Unknown:
Devilish awkward, have you got sick? It was foolish of me to faint. I
[00:05:40] Unknown:
I inherit a weak heart from my mother. Any pain or emotion has that effect on me. Mhmm. It'll probably kill me someday as it did my mother.
[00:05:51] Unknown:
Did you say you were a doctor? Lawyer. Lawyer. John Albemarle. Pleased to know you. I'm Michael Torrance.
[00:05:59] Unknown:
Funny, I should meet a lawyer in such a strange fashion. Mister Cartwright was saying that we should be needing one pretty soon. Certainly. Anything I can do. John Albemarle. Imagine having a solicitor pick me up from the street. You, went about the house to find someone, you said? Did you go into all the rooms? I think so.
[00:06:22] Unknown:
Upstairs as well? Oh, yes. The house is quite deserted. All the way upstairs? As far as I could. Then
[00:06:30] Unknown:
you saw it. Saw what? At the top of the stairs. The black
[00:06:36] Unknown:
door. Yes. Yes. I did. I didn't try to open it because of the waxy across the keyhole. Weren't you curious to know what was in that room? I was rather. The seal, the door, it, yes, it did strike me as being a bit unusual. Tell me, mister Albemarle,
[00:06:55] Unknown:
do you think you could go on alone, living in this house year after year, longing all the time to know what is on the other side of a certain door, and yet not daring to look.
[00:07:09] Unknown:
Mister Torrance, do you mean to say that you don't know yourself? What's behind that black door? No more than you do. But then why don't you open it? I am forbidden too. I see. I see. Well, I say, if you don't mind, I think I should be on my way. Oh, are you in a hurry? No. No. No. No. Not particularly. Just on my way home. But I live down the embankment a ways, you know, and it does take time going through the fog. I I should be very glad if you would stay with me for a bit.
[00:07:36] Unknown:
The fact is, mister Oliver, I live a very retired and secluded life here. Can you stay just a little? Well, I'm I lead presuming upon our short acquaintance, I know. But, how can I say it? I'm I'm beginning to realize something is happening to me and and well, running deliberately into that carriage tonight, I I saw it coming. What was I trying to do? I I don't follow you. What I'm saying, mister Elberballe, is that I have been keeping so much bottled up inside of me that if I don't tell someone soon, I'm I'm afraid that I am slowly but surely going mad.
[00:08:17] Unknown:
I looked about me at the one room in this vast house that was furnished. A grandfather clock, a sofa bed, a table covered with papers, a decanter and glasses, a hot plate of a chair. There was something grotesque about it all. I knew that I couldn't leave Michael Torrance in the state he was in. Would you please stay? Certainly. Certainly. I should be very happy to. Oh, splendid.
[00:08:43] Unknown:
You will find spirits and a siphon on the table. Forgive me if I don't act as a host, but my thought is still a bit sore. Those are cigars in the tray. Help us out. And would would you bring me one? Thank you. So, you are a solicitor, mister Albemarle. Yes. Mhmm. How fortunate you are, sir. You are a lawyer and I am nothing. I am that most helpless of living creatures, the son of a millionaire. I was brought up with the expectation of great wealth and here I am, a poor man without any profession at all. And on top of that, all I'm left with is a great mansion which I cannot afford to keep and cannot sell or rent. Why not? I am forbidden to by instructions left me by my father.
[00:09:35] Unknown:
Strange. Oh, you must know that my father was HC Torrance, the banker. Torrance. Torrance. Of course. Of course. I knew that name rang a bell. So you,
[00:09:45] Unknown:
know about the scandal?
[00:09:46] Unknown:
Well, well, I recall something written in the papers at that time. Some financial dealings of his that went sour and, Then he left the country.
[00:09:55] Unknown:
Mhmm. My poor father. He left England to avoid all his friends whose savings he had invested in an unsuccessful speculation. You see, father was a very nervous and sensitive man. Perhaps I inherited that from him. But if I remember, he was never accused of having done anything criminal. Oh, no. No. No. Purely a matter of sentiment. He couldn't even face his own family, and he died among strangers without ever letting us know where he was. He died,
[00:10:24] Unknown:
My mother and I, we
[00:10:26] Unknown:
we couldn't prove his death, but we we knew he must be dead. How? Well, because after several years, his speculations came right back again. His friends, all of them, made quite a packet. So there was no reason why father should not come back to England and look them all in the face. Oh, he he would have returned if he were alive. I'm sure of it. When did you last hear from him? When let me see. I thought so muddled in my head. I know the first two years after he left, my mother received a letter each year.
[00:10:59] Unknown:
And then your father didn't say where he was living? No. He never gave her a tin address. So there were only only two letters? Three, all told.
[00:11:09] Unknown:
That's where the mystery of the sealed up black door all began. You know, I would like very much to have you look at those letters.
[00:11:18] Unknown:
Mister Eleanor, you are the only person in the world besides mister Cartwright who even knows about them. Oh, no. No. No. Look. May may I call you Michael? Please do. Michael, the hour is quite late. And I suggest it best you prepare yourself for bed and try for a good night's sleep.
[00:11:34] Unknown:
I really should be on my way. I understand. I've asked too much of you already. I want you to know though, mister Albemarle, you've already restored some of my sanity. You have no idea how terrible a day today has been for me. May I ask why? Well, I've just come back from the cemetery having buried my dear mother. The prospect of continuing alone is almost
[00:11:59] Unknown:
more than I can bear. Michael, why don't I stop by tomorrow? I'll well, I'd like to look in on you and see how you're getting on. Would you, please?
[00:12:07] Unknown:
Lord, what a horrendous day this has been a I hope I shan't experience another like it as long as I live.
[00:12:19] Unknown:
No wonder Michael Torrance had appeared strange to me that evening. A young man who obviously needed friendship, needed love, and suddenly found himself alone in the world, orphaned. But the following afternoon, I was sitting in my office when a tall, aesthetic looking gentleman walked in with the aid of a cane. Would I please see him? It was most urgent. Mister Albemarle, I hope you will forgive this intrusion. May I introduce myself? My name is Cartwright. I'm a friend of Michael Torrance. Oh, yes. Yes. Yes. He told me. You are the executor of the Torrance Estate, I believe. In a way, yes.
May I speak quite frankly? I prefer it. Master Michael came to see me early this morning. I was not yet up. Mister Albemarle, in my opinion, by defending that young man, you may have stumbled into a hornet's nest. I don't follow you. I would advise you, as an old and trusted friend of Michael's father, that you forget the entire episode. Put it out of your mind. Disregard what I saw with my own eyes. Master Michael has a tendency to dramatize events. I'm very appreciative of what you did for him last night, and so is he. I understand he ran into a carriage and you assisted him into his house. But what I fail to understand, mister Cartwright, is why you feel at best that I forget the young man's existence.
As for that black door You saw it? Of course. Michael and I discussed it. Well, I I'm sorry to hear that. In fact, I had intended visiting Michael today. I left him quite of a rot, which is, of course, quite understandable in the person who had buried his mother that very day. He said that. No. Why not? He has no reason to hide it. Master Michael told you he had buried his mother yesterday? You appear incredulous. Isn't his mother dead? Oh, yes. Mrs. Collins is dead, but she died and was buried two years ago.
[00:14:47] Unknown:
Somewhere, Michael Torrance has mislaid two years. It has been said that great emotional stress expands and contracts time. Many tragedies suffered in one's past are often as fresh as though they happened yesterday. Conversely, what happened yesterday could already be forgotten. And as for the mysterious black door, now a third person shares the secret, mister Cartwright, the man with a walking stick. More will unfold when we return shortly with act two. John Albemarle, an English barrister, has taken on many legal cases in his day, but none as puzzling as the one he happened on by accident. That of the son of a millionaire banker whose memory appears disturbed, and whose nights are spent in a mansion of empty rooms, and a sealed door painted black.
[00:15:55] Unknown:
I made no promises to mister Cartwright not to see young Torrance again. He gave me his card and as soon as he had gone, I hailed a cab giving the driver Michael's address. I rang for a long time. Finally, he came to the door. The glassy look in his eyes had disappeared. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me. And as we sat over whiskey in his one room, I told him of Cartwright's visit. Well, that is strange.
[00:16:21] Unknown:
He asked me who you were. Naturally, I told him. Gave him your address, but if I never dreamed he'd go see you, I wonder why. Michael, just who is he? Cartwright? Mhmm. Oh, he was my father's confidential clerk, More of an assistant, really. And he continued to be both friend and adviser to my mother and then myself. I don't know what I should have done without him. I hope, Michael, that he is as good a friend as you say. I was wondering whether you'd come back to see me, so I dug out a letter I felt you'd be interested to see. It's the very first one which came for my father seven years ago when he left England. It was written to my mother. I haven't looked at it in years, but I can still almost remember it word for word. I'll confess to you, mister Alba Mar.
Just to hold that letter in my hand disturbs me deeply. I understand. I don't think you do. The the paper, the ink, the the very shape of the words in his handwriting, They spring out at me.
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I can almost hear his voice as I read it. Let me then. No. No. I must.
[00:17:24] Unknown:
I must rid myself of this constant feeling that my father is watching my every move. It's an obsession. I know. I must face up to it. Now, this is what he says. My ever dearest wife,
[00:17:42] Unknown:
since the doctors have told me quite privately how weak your and how harmful any shock might be, I can no longer refrain from telling you that things have been going badly with me. This will cause me to leave you for a little time, but it is with the absolute assurance that we shall see each other very soon. Don't let our parting impair your health.
[00:18:09] Unknown:
For that, I want above all things to avoid. I I can't go on, mister Albemarle. Do forgive me. I I cannot bring myself to read anymore. May I look at the letter? Oh. Thank you. Mhmm.
[00:18:27] Unknown:
Mhmm. Yes. He details how the black door is to be kept sealed until you are 21.
[00:18:31] Unknown:
How old were you then? Oh, 14. Mhmm. Sir, read how he ends the letter. It will help you understand what a kind and considerate man he was.
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And now goodbye, my own best of wives. During our short separation, you should consult mister Cartwright on any matters which should arise. He has my complete confidence ever and always. Your loving husband, Hugh, June four eighteen eighty one.
[00:19:01] Unknown:
You know, my father was a man noted for his almost fanatical love of the truth. He was always accurate to the penny. When he said in that letter seven years ago that he hoped to see my mother very soon, you may rely on it that he meant it. Michael, it seems to me that you are living in the shadow of something quite mysterious,
[00:19:23] Unknown:
And you should either open the black door or find yourself accommodations elsewhere.
[00:19:29] Unknown:
It's not good for you to remain here. I couldn't dream of disobeying my father. Did you read his instructions carefully about the door? Let let me have it there. Okay. Here's the place. Listen to this. I have a request to make and I implore you to Exactly. An idea.
[00:19:47] Unknown:
There are some things I do not wish to be seen by anyone in the room at the top of the stairs. The one with the black door that I used as my private study. I assure you, it is nothing to be ashamed of, but I do not wish you or Michael to enter that room. The door is locked, and I implore you, when you receive this, to place a seal over the lock and plead it so. Do not sell or rent the house or leave it unattended, lest my secret be discovered. When Michael is 21 years old, he may enter the womb. Not before.
[00:20:31] Unknown:
What reason could he possibly have had? Well, neither mother or I had any idea. But we followed his instructions to the letter, placed a seal upon the black door, and it's been there ever since. Mother lived for five years after father's disappearance, although all the doctors had said she couldn't possibly live that long. Her heart, it was very weak. Had been since childhood.
[00:20:52] Unknown:
So your mother lived for five years after mister Torrance left England? Yes. Why? And that was seven years ago? Why do you ask? Michael, I do insist as a new friend that it is harmful for you to stay on in this house with its secret at the top of the stairs. You say your mother died five years after your father left, which was seven years ago. Which would mean she died two years ago. Exactly.
[00:21:21] Unknown:
Why? Have I said something different?
[00:21:24] Unknown:
Yesterday, when I brought you in after the accident, you said it had been a terrible day, that you had just come from the cemetery, that afternoon, had buried your mother. I said that?
[00:21:37] Unknown:
Oh, no. I'm doing it again. Oh, no.
[00:21:46] Unknown:
I'm no doctor or psychologist whatsoever, but I do know that to extend the hand of friendship when it is needed can be the best medicine there is. I reassured Michael that anyone could have lapses of memory and that the emotional strain he was under could even alter the fact of time in his mind. I took him to my club for dinner and we strolled back to his house along the Chelsea Embankment.
[00:22:08] Unknown:
No. That house has no happy memories for me. After father left, mother and I were gradually compelled to sell the furniture and dismiss the servants. And, well, as you saw, I'm living alone in one single room. But there is a bright side. What's that? If I can only hang on in a little over two months, I shall be 21. I keep telling myself, the first thing I shall do is unseal and open the black door, and the second,
[00:22:32] Unknown:
get rid of the house. You know, something about all this plagues me. Why did your father remain out of the country once the investments he advised others to make recovered? Well, he must be dead. Why? Having done nothing actually wrong and leaving England because he couldn't bear to face his friends, why didn't he take your mother with him? Well, I don't know. Why no return address on his letters to her? Why conceal it? I don't know. Why allow your mother to die and be buried and still not return to England? Sir, I I just don't know.
I'm gonna tell you as a man who has known many an innocent person and many who are guilty, it's clear to me your father had important reasons, vital ones for staying away. That although nothing criminal could have been proven against him, he must have been afraid something might be, And he refused to put himself within the powers of law. Stop that.
[00:23:28] Unknown:
That will you stop saying that? I told you. He must have died. Is there any other way the facts can be explained? I don't care about explanations. I remember him as an ideal man. His only fault was that he was too too sensitive, too unselfish. That anyone should lose a penny through him was unthinkable. My father was a man of honor. Forgive me my boy if I appear callous.
[00:23:49] Unknown:
We lawyers have a way of assessing the fact as we find
[00:23:53] Unknown:
them Mike Mike look out look
[00:23:58] Unknown:
out I managed to pull Michael back from the road in time just in time as the carriage came charging down on him It disappeared into the night, and we both stood there gathering our wits and our breaths. Oh,
[00:24:12] Unknown:
a a close call.
[00:24:13] Unknown:
That's twice on two different nights you were almost run down. Did you, see who the driver was? No. I can't say that I did. Was there someone in the carriage? I I had just a glimpse of a man waving a walking stick out the window. Now let's get into your house. It may be gloomy, but it's safer. What's that you see there?
[00:24:34] Unknown:
It's a walking stick. Must have dropped from the carriage. Take a look at this, mister Alberlle. Have you ever seen it before?
[00:24:45] Unknown:
Yes. I have. Somewhere. Or one very much like it. Cor have I. Do you know whose it is?
[00:24:53] Unknown:
Not really. Mister Cartwright's. It's identical to the one he carries.
[00:25:05] Unknown:
I saw less and less of young Michael Torrance as the days and weeks went on. He had no more lapses of memory or alteration of dates and seemed quite cheery at the prospect of his approaching birthday. And then one day, I was in my law offices in Lincoln's Inn Fields when someone knocked at my door with a cane. Why, mister Cartwright, what brings you here? The day of the month and the month of the year. Are you being cryptic on purpose? Come in. Come in. Come in. Don't stand the doorway. Thank you, mister Albemarle. Sit down.
May I take your cane? No. Thank you. I need it to get drowned. Oh, oh, then you are never without it. Oh, I have several walking sticks. I shouldn't be able to go up or downstairs or in and out of the carriage without one. But, setting that aside, my charge, master Michael Torrance has told me he would like you to be present today. Present where? At his house this evening. Why this evening? Oh. Oh. Is he 21 today? At midnight. The door? The black door? Has he opened it? Not yet. But, he will tonight. And Michael would like me there when it's opened? Yes. It is his wish also.
Actually, it was I who persuaded him to ask you. I have certain reasons to believe it would be well to have a reliable witness when the seal is broken. And, since you are a lawyer and already acquainted with the facts of the situation, may we count on you? Most certainly. Mister Cartwright, yes, I seem to remember your last visit here. You were warning me to stay out of this affair. I was afraid you might be one of those who try to take advantage of master Michael. Others have cried. I had similar suspicions about you, mister Cartwright. I know.
The walking stick he found in the street. Master Michael told me it was not mine. Sometimes what we think is evil intent is nothing more than coincidence. I wish all things evil were mere coincidence, but I'm afraid not. Be good enough to hand me my cane, will you?
[00:27:37] Unknown:
As with all stories by the great Conan Doyle, there is always an underlying meaning. Not that we wish to give this tale more weight than it can carry. It is, after all, first and last, the story of a secret. Somewhere, however, runs the thread of honor and dishonor. Hang on, for act three will begin shortly, and that is the act that usually has all the answers. Let us set the scene. Lawyer John Albemarle arrives at the Torrance mansion a little after nine. Michael, about to turn 21, is quiet and afraid. Mister Cartwright, at first talkative, affable, becomes paler as the hour grows later.
10:00, eleven, and then it is a quarter hour before midnight.
[00:28:39] Unknown:
It's as if all my life I've been waiting for this moment It seems only yesterday father went away My mother got one letter from him and next year she got another Did I ever tell you mister Albemarle they were both postmarked pairs? Yes you didn't Funny. They both said practically the same thing even though he sent them a year apart. That he and mother would soon be reunited. Was that, quarter of twelve that struck?
[00:29:02] Unknown:
Yes. It was. We haven't long to wait now. Then when mother died, there was the last letter I received from him.
[00:29:09] Unknown:
Did I ever tell you about that one, mister Albemarle? You may have mentioned it, Michael. You never showed it to me. Oh, I've put it away. I'll keep it forever. Such a sweet and wonderful letter it was. So typical of father, begging me never to think evil of him, as if I could. Saying that sealing up the black door wasn't as important now as when it was when mother was alive, but that I should be a good boy and wait. I was 19, and he wrote to me as if I were 15 or 16. Funny the feelings that come over you is if all my life I've been waiting for the clock to strike twelve. It's what comes, I guess, of being born at midnight.
[00:29:56] Unknown:
The clock began to strike twelve and there we were, on the threshold of unlocking the door end of mystery. Cartwright led the way up the stairs, an oil lamp in one hand, his cane in the other. I followed him, and behind me came Michael. We reached the last landing. There was the black door with its seal directly in front of us. I felt Michael's hand on my arm. I don't feel well. Michael, it's alright. I I can't go in there. Well, I'd best knock off the seal first. I'll use my walking stick. I can't. I can't. And suppose Cartwright goes in first. He has a lamp. I'll follow him and then you, Michael. What say? I thought I had the key.
None of these seem to fit. Well, then we can't open it. Michael, there's nothing to be afraid of in there. Isn't that a joke? After seven years, we can't open the door after all. What do you think we should do, mister Albemarle? Wait. It won't be different in the morning. It doesn't matter whether we tackle this tonight or tomorrow. There's only one thing to do. Break the door down. I've got heavy shoe now. Let me you did it. Are you alright, mister Albemarle? Yes. I'm surprised I could put my foot through the door panel so easily. Master Michael, I hope you're able to prepare yourself in the event that what you see in this room, may be a very great shock to you. What do you mean?
Brace yourself, master Michael. Well, you go first. I I think it should be yourself. Here is the oil lamp. If you reach through the broken panel, perhaps you can open the door. Give me the lamp. Good boy, Michael.
[00:31:46] Unknown:
Oh, there's a key in the door on the inside, and that's why you couldn't get it open. I think I can unlock it.
[00:31:55] Unknown:
Go ahead, Michael.
[00:32:00] Unknown:
Yeah. I'm going. I'm going.
[00:32:04] Unknown:
Oh, I think I got into heaven.
[00:32:07] Unknown:
The lamp. No. It's on fire. It's spilling oil all over the floor. Cartwright. Cartwright. Come in here.
[00:32:13] Unknown:
Help me. Help me beat out these flames. Michael dropped the lamp. There's a short run here, mister Albemarle. Grab that end of it. Paul, Paul, here we are. There. There. Oh, we have it off the floor. Let's get it over here. Right? No. Slap it down over the over the lamp and the flames. That does it.
[00:32:39] Unknown:
Oh, so much smoke. The flames are off though.
[00:32:43] Unknown:
Let's smoke it. Oh, it's a dust and everything dry in here. Where's Michael? He can't see. It's so dark. Smoke. He he's lying on the floor over here. I I'm afraid he's passed out. Michael. Michael, wake up. Come on, Michael.
[00:33:05] Unknown:
What is it?
[00:33:07] Unknown:
What what what happened? You dropped the oil lamp. It caught fire. It's alright now. Where's mister Cop back? Gone to fetch another lamp, I expect. What happened to you? Did you trip? I I saw
[00:33:21] Unknown:
him sitting there. Who? My father. What? Found another lamp. Oh,
[00:33:30] Unknown:
Lord in heaven. My poor master. My poor, poor master. A single table and a chair were in front of us. And sitting on it, his back turned, was a man in the act of writing. His outline was as natural as life. But as the light fell on him, I could see the back of his neck was black and wrinkled and no thicker than my wrist. Thick gray dust lay everywhere. On the man's shoulders, his hair, his shriveled, lemon colored hands. His head had fallen forward on his chest. The pen still rested on a discolored sheet of paper. My master.
Oh, my poor, poor master. Is that mister Torrance himself? There he has sat for seven years. Why did he do it? I I begged him. I begged him. But he would have his way. He locked the door on the inside and then sat himself down. He was writing something. I can make out the words. Reach over and take it, mister Albemarle. I would do it, but I I must leave the room. I I cannot bear to be in here a moment longer. Michael, stand up, my boy. We'll go downstairs. I think that we've seen enough of this. Death hangs over everything.
[00:35:05] Unknown:
My father.
[00:35:06] Unknown:
It was he in that room sitting dead in that chair. You knew he was there, Cartwright. You've known it all along. Yes. I knew it, Master Michael, but you must believe me. I have acted for the best all along. It's hard for me to accept.
[00:35:20] Unknown:
For seven years, you've known my father was dead behind that black door. You never said a word to my mother or my cell. How could I say anything?
[00:35:28] Unknown:
Oh, don't be harsh with me, Master Michael. Make allowances for a man who has had a hard part to play. Oh, my head is swimming. I can't grasp it.
[00:35:39] Unknown:
Those letters to my mother and myself, they
[00:35:41] Unknown:
they were forgeries? Oh, no. Your father wrote every word, and he addressed them and left them in my keeping to be posted. Oh, believe me. I followed his instructions to the very letter. He was my master, and I obeyed him. I've calmed down, sir, mister Cartwright. It's it's alright. Now, please,
[00:36:03] Unknown:
tell us about it. I I can stand it.
[00:36:06] Unknown:
It was in this very room, Master Michael. You you remember this used to be the morning room. Seven years ago it was and he called me in here. Your father did?
[00:36:20] Unknown:
That's right. I'm sure you're aware this is a period of great trouble for me. There's no hope for it. A great many people, even some who had few savings, are losing everything because of me. Well, it's not your fault entirely, mister Torrance. It is my fault entirely. Every person I advise knows I've betrayed them. Oh, no, sir. God right. You see before you a man who deserves no place among the ditty. But you're too hard upon yourself. Dishonor and betrayal. What is there left for me? What do you mean, sir? I shall tell you.
To leave this world, it's not as easy as one would wish. What I tell you now is in secret confidence, Cartwright. You have my word. The finest doctors I could find here in London have told me that my wife's heart could fail her with the slightest shock. How can I do away with myself then? You must not, sir. There's the answer. I have made up my mind. Now listen. My wife has been given a few months to live at most. I shall write two letters. No. Three. You will go to Paris, can't right, and mail each to my wife a month apart. Then, on that unhappy day, when she passes away, you will mail a third letter which I shall address to my son.
That way, I will be thought still alive.
[00:38:04] Unknown:
I shall go up to my study now. Mister Torrance, I beg you, think again for the sake of all those you love, for those who love you. Please,
[00:38:17] Unknown:
please, no more. Pray for me, Cartwright.
[00:38:29] Unknown:
And I never saw mister Torrance again until tonight. How could he? How could he
[00:38:38] Unknown:
that the sheer deceit in those letters to my mother? We shall meet again soon. His words,
[00:38:44] Unknown:
making her think he was coming back. Oh, no, Master Michael. You don't understand at all. Your father believed your mother had only weeks to live. He meant what he wrote. He was certain she would die very shortly. The doctors had said so. Then they would be reunited in death. Don't you see? But your mother lived on for five whole years. I I had only two letters addressed to her to send. Michael, how could mister Cartwright do otherwise? He promised your father and sent the two letters. He gave his word. And then two years ago, he sent your father's letter to you.
[00:39:27] Unknown:
I see it all now, but it seems so useless. His death so wasted.
[00:39:33] Unknown:
Well, how could your father have known? Michael, I beg you to forgive me for keeping his secret. I I meant no harm. Believe me, every day I spent under this roof with your mother and yourself, every day was torture for me. I knew he was up there, and many times I felt he was watching me. Yes. Strange you should say that. I did too. I promised him. What could I do? I
[00:40:04] Unknown:
I gave my word. I don't blame you. Spared my mother a very great shock, that I'm sure of. Had she the slightest inkling what was behind the black door, it would have broken her heart. So she died believing he was still somewhere alive.
[00:40:21] Unknown:
Oh, what is that paper mister Albemarle was giving you? It is what mister Torrance was writing. Do you wish to see it? Please.
[00:40:32] Unknown:
It's very faded, isn't it? Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I I can read it. I have taken the poison, and I feel it working in my veins.
[00:40:47] Unknown:
It is strange, but not painful. When these words are read, I shall, if my wishes have been faithfully carried out, have been dead many years. Surely, no one who has lost money through me will still bear me animosity. And you, my dear son Michael, you will forgive me this family scandal. I lay down my pen and pray, may God find rest for a sorely, wearied spirit.
[00:41:34] Unknown:
Conan Doyle's tale of the secret behind the black door recalls for us many elements of truth. In a number of lands, a man will place his reputation before his life, paying the supreme penalty as a matter of honor. As the saying goes, death before dishonor. To us here today, life is so precious and valuable, it would be hard for us to do the same. Or would it? I shall be back to give you my opinion shortly. How often have we heard the words, I'd rather have a good name than great riches? That mobile reputation, the bard called it. All of us seek it. Why is it so important?
The only way I can answer it is by turning the question around. Honor, prestige, integrity, where would we be without them? For aren't those the attributes that give humanity to us poor humans? Our cast included Kevin McCarthy, Russell Horton, and Guy Sorrell. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now a preview of our next tale are you saying that Lorna Pilbeam Louisa Plowright and Laverne Preston may be one and the same person. And two years before that, sir, a missus Lillian Pumice collected $2,000 on the death of her husband, Leander.
Missus Pumice was 29 years old, sir. And I am to assume that all the husbands were elderly gentlemen? Yes, sir. And all passed away from heart attacks? So the physicians
[00:43:27] Unknown:
stated, sir.
[00:43:29] Unknown:
How do you account for the fact that she seems to marry men whose names begin with p? Well, sir, it would seem then to be unnecessary for her to change the monogram on her linens and silver. Yeah. Well, Condeco, what is your recommendation? I suggest, sir, that we investigate the matter thoroughly before we pay missus Pilbeam a penny. Missus E. G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time,
[00:44:05] Unknown:
pleasant
Introduction to the Mystery Theater
The Foggy Night Incident
The Black Door Mystery
The Letters from the Past
Cartwright's Warning
A Dangerous Encounter
The Black Door Unsealed
The Truth Revealed
Reflections on Honor and Reputation
