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Man sits alone in his rich apartment in New York City. His morose, lost. His wife has left him. If you were a friend of his, you'd go and spend some time with him. Have a few drinks.

Listen to some music. Try to cheer him up. Some of his friends did. He started a night of terror. Hello, Cree. It's T4Y, opening the doors of the Mystery Playhouse. Our story tonight is from the pen of the master mystery writer, William Irish.

He often needs no introduction. All of you died in the world mystery fans are familiar with hard writing, fast-moving William Irish tales. Story begins in the lobby of the New York apartment building two men and a woman have just entered fuck us and cheerful Obviously out for a night of fun Hey, it's a nice apartment fella. Let's have a lot of cash live in a place like this. Have you? Oh, yeah more than most I guess

Here's the elevator to me. Hey, what's up? I'm in summer dressed in bland TV. I'll take my injury. I was very, very, when you get there taking it, you know? Like I told you, the sun is a nice guy.

Well, what's he like, Jack? This Joker we're doing a good turn for. Oh, he's a good naked character. Right now the big thing is his wife Eleanor leaving. I haven't seen him smart since she pulled out.

Ah. And Marty, yeah? What's, remember, don't make any cracks about his wife Eleanor. I got it. Don't be told. Oh, hello, guy. Hello, Jack. Eleanor. Hiya, guy. Meek Vinnie Benson. Oh, hey. Dark and Holley, I thought you were my wife.