Murder Faces East

Good evening, friend. This is your host to welcome you through the creaking door into the uno sanctum. Come in, come in. Boo! It's getting cold. Yeah, we're all blowing on our hands. Those of us that have hands.

One character who hangs his sheet in our happy little inferno, got frostbite so bad we had to amputate his lir. Well then, at least the Big Freeze has brought us one blighted blessing. The stiffs around here will keep refrigerator fresh.

Tonight's inner sign to mystery, Murder Faces East, was written by John Robert and stars Carl Swenson and the role of Steve with Charlotte Holland as Selena. Tonight's candidate for oblivion is a chap whose hobby is collecting nightmare.

Oblivion comes with a crash when our boy discovers an idol is no idol, jazz. Hang on everybody and we'll fill in the gory details. We're in a gloomy cell of a city prison in San Francisco.

On the edge of a lower bunk sitting with bowed head is a man, a recent arrest. He's still dressed in street clothes. His tie is missing, so are his suspenders, confiscated as a precaution against suicide.

His eyes flicks intently on the stone floor, as if trying to stare a blind spot out of his vision. And his mouth twists into a distorted curve of amusement. I have got a million dollars.

I can't even buy a tie or a pair of suspenders or even five cents worth of freedom. Began for me with a penny postcard in the mail. Selena, my wife read the card to me over the breakfast table.

Public auction of the estate of Hanson Brokaw, rare oriental treasures, masks, I went. Some fellas play chess or collect stamps. I hopped it in orientalism. Selena came along to see that my blood pressure didn't pop bids out of my mouth at a bankruptless for a month.