46xxxx (035) The Black Swan

I'm here, Mr. Bradley. Girl in mystery drowning, Pinocquit Maine. While her sister stood helplessly on the dock, Abigail Fawn 26 was drowned in the bay here at midnight last night.

According to her sister Sarah, the older girl was about to brought her ship. The Black Swan. What? Well, yes, that's the name. How did you know? How did I know? Because it had to be.

had to be. Midnight, the witching hour when the night is darkest, our fears the strongest, and our strength at its lowest end. Midnight, when the graves gave open and death strikes, how? You'll learn the answer in just a moment in the black swan.

And now, murdered at midnight, tales of mystery and terror, by Radio's Masters of the Macabre. Our story by Leon Meadow is the black swan. It's odd, isn't it? How familiar sounds revive old memories. Listen to the waves against the dock. Yeah, it's six years since I, Amos Bradley, last heard this

sound. Last stood here in the moonlight looking out of a pellic with dang. And there she rides an anchor just as she did six years ago. A black ship against the sky. 45 feet of black hole beauty. The loveless sloop ever turned out in the main shipyard. 45 feet of unholy black evil. The black

swans she was named but a better name would have been Ship of Death. Yes she was even launched in blood. She my son anyplace? Hello mr. Don't. Left red on deck. How do you like the black swan? Lighters. Fine talk about a ship built by Fred Sarn.

Well Fred thinks she's a premise job he ever turned out. Shrimp, wait for her. What do you tell Fred I'm here? Oh yes sir. I'll get him just as soon as we check the deal plate.