Let’s go back to early 1940 and examine one of the lost radio shows featuring The Shadow. Of the 28 broadcasts from 1940, taking time off for the summer of course, a surprising number have survived in recorded form. A whopping 22 of them — 22-1/2 of them, if you want to listen to only the second half of “Coinage of Death” — still can be heard today, thanks to Charles Michelson and the electrical transcriptions he had made. And that’s great news for fans of The Shadow radio program.
But what about those missing six? (Okay, 5-1/2 if you want to be technical.) What about titles like “Suicide Resort,” “Murder Host,” “The Great Submarine Mystery,” “Up from the Grave” or “Revenge Beyond Death”? Yeah… what about them? Well, we can all hope that some day recordings will be unearthed in some radio station basement. But until then, I’ll help you out occasionally, by telling you one of the stories you missed out on. And this week, it’s “Suicide Resort.”
Take yourself back to Jan. 14, 1940. It’s a freezing cold Sunday, and at 5:30 p.m. you sit down and turn on the old radio. It takes a bit longer for the cold tubes to warm up, but soon you are listening to the organ music of Elsie Thompson as Bill Johnston greets listeners with his famous “Who knows… what evil… luuuurrrks… in the hearts of men?” And before you know it, announcer Ken Roberts is extolling the virtues of Blue Coal.
Who knows what cold…
Yes, you can sit back and enjoy today’s adventure in perfect ease and comfort… if your home is heated with Blue Coal. And on a cold day like this, that sure sounds inviting. But come on… let’s get the show going. Luckily, it’s a short 30-second commercial break, and then we’re into today’s story — “Suicide Resort.”
Our story opens out on Land’s End, a promontory that juts out into the sea. High on the rocks sits a big old black inn called The Crags. It’s a chilly evening, the moon is full and the wind blowing coldly. There is a scream of terror as Mrs. Graybar, an elderly guest at the inn, stumbles across the sand. She calls out for Mr. Tufts, the inn’s proprietor. Mr. Tufts along with a small group of guests, runs to her aid. She cries out that Mr. Gordon, the guest in room seven, is walking into the sea… committing suicide. While they watch in horror, the sea takes him, and the tide washes him out to sea.
It’s a strange group that has witnessed this bizarre death. Mrs. Graybar has been a guest at the hotel for years. Mr. Tufts is the owner. Captain Leobold is a retired seaman, previously master of the Solemn Lady. Mr. Bronson is a recent guest, who has expressed interest in buying the decrepit inn. Tyle Caniele is there for his health; he’s a sickly gentleman who contemplates death. There’s Mr. Grummert, of whom we know little. And then there’s the gibbering dwarf Montalig.
Ah yes, a cackling dwarf who watches the unfortunate death and madly cries out, “Death rides the wind!” and “The sea will take him!” In those unenlightened times of 1940, having a crazed dwarf in the cast just made for a more eerie background, I guess. I don’t think you’d see that kind of casting today.
Three suicides in one week!
Our cast of characters stands in the moonlight, looking out to sea. Tufts, the inn owner, laments, “Three suicides in one week. The inn’ll be ruined!” And Montalig, the dwarf, shrieks “Three! But the sea hasn’t had its fill! There’ll be more!” Does he know something the rest of us don’t? You feel a shiver down your spine. Did some of the outside air just get in, or is it this radio play? You draw closer to the radio set.
The next scene finds Margo Lane and Lamont Cranston driving through the nighttime storm. They are on their way to The Crags Inn, out on Land’s End. It seems there was a newspaper advertisement, seeking The Shadow. People are putting ads in the paper, now, when they need The Shadow’s assistance. Poor old Tufts, the owner of The Crags, placed the ad after three of his guests committed suicide within one week… and all by walking into the sea. I guess it’s a good thing that Cranston saw that ad.
The guests of The Crags are gathered downstairs as wind whistles through the old building. Mr. Tufts hands out candles; the storm has taken out the power lines. Mrs. Graybar considers leaving this house of death, but is cautioned that she’d never make it down the cliff on a night like this.
Montalig, the dwarf, screeches, “The sea reaches out!” That seems to be his role in this radio play. He madly cries out creepy warnings. And the others just tend to ignore his rantings.
Mr. Grummert heads upstairs to his room. Mrs. Graybar complains that she won’t sleep a wink. All which gives Montalig an opportunity to exclaim, “Listen! The voice — the sea — it calls again!” Soon there will be another death… the dwarf knows!
I think what Montalig heard was the arrival of Lamont Cranston and Margo Lane. They barely made it through the storm, but now that they are here, they seek lodging. Before they settle in, they meet everybody. And interesting group. And when they get to Montalig, he boasts:
“Oh, you won’t like me. I’m Montalig, the dwarf. Nobody makes friends with me. Nobody likes me… but the sea. The sea would caress me as it would the most beautiful.”
Yeah, way to make an impression, feller. The rest try to be polite, but then he cries out “But the wind! Death rides the wind!” Yup, he’s off again on another rant. And this time, with reason.
The next suicide
Outside in the moonlight, they see Mr. Grummert, the guest who had headed upstairs earlier, walking toward the sea. Before they can rush outside to stop him, he topples from a huge rock into the pounding surf.
“I knew it! I heard the sea call!” That was from Montalig, in case you couldn’t guess.
Four suicides, now. But as Cranston confides to Margo, “They’re not suicides… it’s murder!”
And on that surprising note, the organ music swells, and we are listening to announcer Ken Roberts as he extols the virtues of Blue Coal. Something about different brands of hard coal being like different brands of washing-machines. But you’re not really listening. You keep thinking that there’s no way these suicides could be murder. What does The Shadow know? Ken Roberts is still talking. Screened and rescreened for perfect sizing… laboratory tested… call your Blue Coal dealer today… and now, back to The Shadow.
Margo and Lamont are walking along the creaking floorboards of the second-floor hallway, candle in hand, discussing who the killer might be. Everyone seems fair game. At Margo’s door, they hear someone walking over on the far side of the building. Cranston leaves Margo safely inside, and goes to investigate as… The Shadow!
It’s Mr. Caniele, the sickly guest, who is walking the halls. The Shadow announces himself and questions the man. Caniele admits he wants to die, but denies having anything to do with the recent deaths. The Shadow accepts his word, for now, but warns him not to leave Land’s End.
“Something brushed my forehead in the dark!”
Margo screams. She runs into the hall, slamming her door. A crowd quickly gathers, including Cranston. “Something brushed my forehead in the dark!” she explains. They comfort her; Mr. Tufts suddenly realizes that Mrs. Graybar is not present. Where could she be? She’s not in her room!
Montalig admits he heard her footsteps in the hall as she passed his room. She must have a distinctive stride or something, but it’s not explained, and you don’t figure it’s all that important, anyway. And Montalig, in his usual foreboding screech warns, “Death called her. You can’t still the voice of Death!”
Maybe you guys should look out the upstairs window. They finally do, and sure enough… Mrs. Graybar is outside, walking into the sea. That makes five suicides now, in case you lost count.
It’s just breaking dawn when Mrs. Graybar’s body washes up on the beach. Mr. Tufts calls over Cranston and Margo. Examining the body, Cranston discovers a slight scratch on her forehead. That’s the clue he needed!
He hastily checks out Margo’s forehead — not a scratch. He’s thinking back to that time when something brushed her forehead in the dark. But all’s okay. The two head back to the inn. Cranston wants to check out the attic. Up there, he and Margo discover a colony of bats roosting in the rafters. The two are attacked, but fight off the little squeaking creatures using a painting as a bat… well, not a bat as in a flying creature, but a bat like a baseball bat.
The secret of the attic
Cranston places one of the dead bats in his handkerchief and takes it downstairs to show Captain Leobold. The old salt recognizes it immediately. It’s one of the deadliest things on wings… a Sigu bat. A scratch from this creature means death. It carries a poison that creates a sudden artificial fever so intense that the victim has only one thought: air and cool water. The victims were driven to their deaths in the sea!
How did the South American bats get there? And who was the killer? Or as Mr. Tufts put it, “But, who… there are only three of us left… who among us is the guilty party?”
Hey, wait a minute. Only three of us left? Let’s count heads, here. Who is in the room, other than Cranston and Margo? Well, Mr. Tufts, of course. And the sea captain. And Mr. Caniele. Okay, that does make three. But, what happened to Mr. Bronson, who wanted to buy the inn? What what about that raving dwarf, Montalig? What happened to them? There is no explanation. It’s as though they never existed. Hmmm… well, that’s annoying. But let’s get back to the radio play, as Lamont Cranston wraps up the case.
Cranston explains that the killer was a dead man. Mr. Gordon, the man in room seven, who walked into the sea way back at the beginning of the show… he was behind it all. He wanted the inn. He was the heir to the previous owner, and the inn should have gone to him. He tried to prevent the sale of the inn by placing Sigu bats in the attic, but it took them months to acclimate themselves to the cooler weather. By then, the inn had been sold. When he tried to remove the bats, he received one of their poisonous scratches, and became a victim of his own weapon.
And that’s it. End of the show. One more commercial in which Ken Roberts introduces John Barclay, America’s home heating expert. Call a trained John Barclay Service Man to come to your home for free advice about your heating system. And don’t forget the Blue Coal heat regulator.
Ken Roberts returns to assure the audience that “the characters, names, places and plot are fictitious.” I guess that means there really are no Sigu bats. Whew, we can all breathe a sigh of relief. I was afraid all of South America would be wiped out by this insidious plague. And then, the bats would migrate north…
The stern voice of The Shadow warns all that “The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay. The Shadow knows!” And the the laugh. The laugh that brings quivering fear to all those who would do evil. The laugh that would stick in your mind for over a half a century. The laugh you can hear even today. The grim mirth of The Shadow!
Final judgement
Sitting there by the radio, you realize there were a few flaws in this Shadow story. Two of the characters just disappeared without further mention. When things wrapped up, there was no sign of boring old Mr. Bronson or the flamboyant dwarf Montalig. I guess neither was all that important to the plot, but Montalig certainly did provide a lot of color.
And The Shadow didn’t show up to defeat the villain in the end. In fact, the invisible scourge known as The Shadow only appeared once in the entire program, and it wasn’t a very important appearance, either. It could have easily been eliminated. But then, if it had, we would have had The Shadow program without The Shadow. And that’s just not right.
This story started out great. Very atmospheric. Mysterious suicides, a decrepit old inn on the edge of the cold Atlantic ocean, a weird assortment of characters. But then it declined to a weak ending that didn’t involve The Shadow at all. And it turns out the bad guy had been dead since act 1.
Maybe it’s a good thing this one is “lost.” It wouldn’t add much lustre to the legend of The Shadow. But even a bad Shadow is better than no Shadow at all. So if a recording of this episode ever surfaces, you can be sure I’ll be among the clamoring throng seeking to obtain a copy.
Such is the power of The Shadow.
