Journal of a Crime (Warner Bros.) (1934)

Special Radio Sketch FIVE CHARACTERS FRANCOISE MOLLET (Ruth Chatterton): Faithful wife of the playwright, who is in love with the star of his show. ODETTE (Claire Dodd): Star of Mollet's show—who is mysteriously murdered. PAUL MOLLET (Adolphe Menjou): Faithless husband whose “mental cruelty" ruins his wife's life and his own. CHAUTARD (George Barbier): play. RIGAUD (Edward McWade): Comedie-Beaumarchais. Producer of Mollet's Watchman at the If the parts are played by local people it will mean news stories, both before and after the broadcast. i Cte a ee a ee ek Regular Station Announcement followed by— ANNOUNCER: By arrangement with Manager .... of the : . Theatre—Station WYXK is enabled to offer for your entertainment flashes of the dramatic action of “Journal of a Crime,’ the Warner Bros.First National picture starring Ruth Chatterton and featuring Adolphe Menjou, George Barbier, Philip Reed, Claire Dodd, Henry O’Neill, Edward McWade, Frank Reicher, Henry Kolker, Leila Bennett, Noel Madison, Frank Darien, Olaf Hytten, Walter Pidgeon, Clay Clement and Douglas Dumbrille. William Keighley directed. Mr. (name of narrator) will give you a brief summary of the story. NARRATOR: Thank you (name of announcer). Paul Monet’s latest play is in rehearsal at the ‘‘Comedie-Beaumarchais,” a Paris theatre managed by his close friend M. Chautard. The star of the show is Odette—a heartless coquette— with whom Paul Mollet is madly infatuated. His wife, Francoise, is aware of the affair—and is now hidden in the dark narrow alley near the stage door—waiting for Paul and Odette to come from the theatre. The collar of her fur coat is turned up. Some of the jewels of her bracelet are revealed as she lights a cigarette. Seeing the flash the old watchman hobbles toward her lifting his lantern: RIGAUD: Waitin’ for someone? FRANCOISE: (very low) Yes— RIGAUD: Someone in the show ? FRANCOISE: Yes. RIGAUD: Well, mavbe you'd better wait inside—you’ll find it warmer. I’m Rigaud—the watchman. FRANCOISE: No, thanks— (chill in her voice) I’m — not cold. RIGAUD: Just as you like, mam/’selle—(door opens—sudden babel of voices of men and women—sounds of music—door shuts). That’s the orchestra leader, so rehearsal must be over. Shall I tell your friend you’re waiting? FRANCOISE: (dully) Who? RIGAUD: How should I . know? Whoever you’re waiting for— FRANCOISE: (her trembling sensed in her speech) No, no. Thanks. He’ll—be out soon— RIGAUD: (off) As you wish —(Door again opens—chatter of men and women—ad lib— and fading in distance)—Good night—Monsieur Chautard— CHAUTARD: (loud, genial voice) Good night, Rigaud. RIGAUD: Good night, Monsieur Mollet— PAUL: (suave) Good night— RIGAUD: Good night, Mam’selle Odette— ODETTE: (hard, rather shrill, but not unpleasant, voice) Call my car Rigaud!—Light me a cigarette, will you, Paul-——Oo— I’m frozen, darling! PAUL: Ah, I’ll soon attend to that! Well, Chautard—what do you think of the show? CHAUTARD: (booming gaily) It can’t miss, Paul. It’s the best musical comedy you’ve ever written. And the best part the little lady here, has ever had. ODETTE: (cooing) My favorite playwright! PAUL: My favorite prima donna! ODETTE: You still think we can open day after tomorrow? CHAUTARD: Barring a catastrophe, yes. ODETTE: Catastrophe! What catastrophe could there be ?— Listen—what was that?— PAUL: What, dear? ODETTE: I thought I heard some one moaning. A woman’s voice— CHAUTARD: You’re hearing things, lady— PAUL: Nerves again— ODETTE: Nerves? Hah! I haven’t a nerve in my body (sound of car humming into the alley—swerving to a stop). CHAUTARD: Good night— you love birds!—Oh, and by the way—soft pedal on this romance of yours—until after the opening. ODETTE: (gaily) Well, why not come along and check up on us? We’ll stop at Fouquette’s —for a little supper—drop you off—and then—like a good little girl—lI’ll take Paul home. PAUL: (politely) Yes, come along, Chautard. CHAUTARD: (hesitating) I’d like nothing better—only— ODETTE: (suddenly hard) Only if Paul’s wife knew _you were seen with us in _ public, she’d make a scene. PAUL: Now, Odette— ODETTE: (interrupting) It’s the truth. CHAUTARD: She’d hardly make a scene, as you put it— but we’re old friends and why should I hurt her unnecessarily ? (gruffly) You two are so happy you can afford to be a little charitable (himself chuckling again). Why, bless my soul, I’m preaching! ODETTE: (mockingly) The Reverend Chautard! That’s the pay off. CHAUTARD: (feigning jovi ality) Besides, I’d only be in the way. Good night, and don’t forget (voice begins fading) we’re having a rehearsal at two o’clock— ODETTE: (provoked) Charming, wasn’t it? PAUL: Well darling, it was rather embarrassing. ODETTE: For him, I suppose? PAUL: Of course. ODETTE: And what about me? Did it ever ‘occur to you that it might be embarrassing to me, to be treated like a common— PAUL: Not so loud. ODETTE: I’ll shout if I like. Lamberton treated me like a queen, and I gave him up _because you begged me to. You wanted me to love you. I did— You wanted me all for yourself —you got what you wanted— but now I’m through. PAUL: Your «chauffeur can hear. ODETTE: Let him—and let anybody else that wants to hear —hear! I tell you I’m through! Go on back to your wife. PAUL: (pleading) Odette, what are we quarreling about? You know I love you. ODETTE: Your love is a little too convenient—everything is much too easy for you. Like all married men—you have your fingers crossed (mocking). “How can I hurt my wife like this— she loves me!” PAUL (soberly) It’s true. ODETTE: (bitingly) Isn't that just too bad! (click of car | door opening). PAUL: All right, Pierre. (sound of starter)— PAUL: Don’t you want me to come with you? ODETTE: (off) On one condition. Ask your wife for a divorce—tonight! PAUL: (distressed) Odette, I can’t. ODETTE: And why not? She knows you don’t love her any more. PAUL: But asI said she loves me. ODETTE: Then she’d want to see you happy. Give her a chance to show this great love. PAUL: And if I won’t? ODETTE: Then you can run along home. — Pierre! (car starts). PAUL: Odette—I’m_ going with you! (car fades in distance). RIGAUD: Mam/’selle? ‘You still here? Theyre all gone, Mawm/’selle! FRANCOISE: (in a_ dead voice) Yes—I—I was just leaving. RIGAUD: (sympathy in his voice) Did you see—him? FRANCOISE: Yes, thanks— T’m—going now. RIGAUD: Good night—lady —things’ll come around—they— thev always do! FRANCOISE: you—good night— (Music. Suggest “Pale Hands I Love” from Songs of India.) NARRATOR: Francoise hurries home — tremblingly she sinks into a chair before the fire in her boudoir—then with cosmetics banishes all traces of her tears—puts on a seductive neglivee and brings a tray with champagne. two glasses and a bucket of ice—then begins her sleepless half-insane wait for her husband’s return. She must be her best. She may still regain his love. It is three in the morning before he gets back. He is amazed to see her. PAUL: Why, what time is it? FRANCOISE: (with forced lightness) Almost three, darling. PAUL: And yovu’re still up? FRANCOISE: Of course, dear —waiting for you! PAUL: (casually) Been out? FRANCOISE: (very softly) Yes. up to Gouthier’s. We played bridge until midnight. (purringly) You might—kiss me. I'll remove your topper if you don’t mind (laugh of forced gaiety). Don’t you know you shouldn’t kiss a lady with your hat on? Oh. that’s wasn’t really a kiss, darling! Try again—(pause). PAUL: (drearily) I’ve got an awful headache. FRANCOISE: (caressingly) Oh, you poor darling!—Let me help you off with vour coat— you’re at home now—you know ee PAUL: What’s the matter? You act so strangely! FRANCOISE: (lightlv) Noth (off) Thank ing, dear—nothing—I’m—Oh, I’m just glad you’re home— that’s all! Oh, Paul, let me hold vou close! (lightly) Now you’re all over powder—pardon me! PAUL: (wondering whether she guesses the truth) You should be more careful. FRANCOISE: (sweetly) Rehearsals were late tonight— weren’t they dear? ‘PAUL: (sighs) Yes. I thought they would never end. Well, what’s this mean? Champagne? What’s the idea? FRANCOISE: It’s for you, dear. I knew you’d be tired. PAUL: I am—but I don’t need champagne. FRANCOISE: (coaxing) Not just a drop—with me? PAUL: No. no, dear, not any, thanks. My head is— FRANCOISE: (off) T’ll get you. some aspirin. PAUL: No. no, thanks—I don’t want anvthing—Why didn’t you go to bed? Why aren’t you asleep ? FRANCOISE: (adoration in her voice) I told vou I’ve been waiting for vou! You’re the onlv one in the world I have, to wait for, Paul. Don’t you—realize that ? PAUL: But you _ shouldn’t have. FRANCOISE: I don’t mind waiting. I like to wait for you. It’s the women who have no one to wait for, that I pity. (Cwistfully) I’m happiest when I’m curled up at your feet—like this. (whispering) I’d die, Paul—if— if I—if anything happened to you. PAUL: (trying to get it over), Francoise, listen — supposing, someday—supposing I should have an accident— FRANCOISE: (intuitively) Are you sure that it would be an accident— : PAUL: (bracing Seriously, dear— FRANCOISE: But first—kiss me—please, Paul. Let’s be as we used to be— PAUL: (softly) We’d better get some sleep. I’m so tired, my dear—(off) so tired— FRANCOISE: You are tired —well— PAUL: (off desperately) If you only understood! FRANCOISE: I’m afraid ’m very stupid. PAUL: (off) You’re not, dear. You’re intelligent—most intelligent—I’m counting on that— that’s why I— FRANCOISE: (interrupting) I’d much rather you thought I was silly and foolish and—desirable. PAUL: (determined to be out with it) Francoise—I’ve something to tell you. Something of himself) great importance. Something you must know—tonight. FRANCOISE: (trying to speak lightly) Good news, I hope. PAUL: No, Francoise. But I must tell you just the same. FRANCOISE: Paul— PAUL: Listen, dear: FRANCOISE: (wildly) No, no, no—you shan’t say the words, darling—you shan’t— T’ll smother your lips with kisses—I won’t hear—I won’t— not—not tonight, anyway. (deliriously) Nights are for laughter —and dancing—and loving— (swiftly) not for bad news. Besides it keeps you from sleeping—and then in the morning you realize it wasn’t so bad after all—besides—I’m so happy tonight, darling (break in her voice)—so happy— PAUL: (his voice harsh with nervousness) Francoise, listen. FRANCOISE: (feverishly) No! Didn’t your rehearsal go off well? What if it didn’t, my darling—it can’t matter now. You are mine now! PAUL: | Francoise, I— FRANCOISE: (between mad laughter and tears) No, I won’t hear tonight—Even if you’ve lost all your money! (laughs) Have you?—I don’t care—Let it wait until tomorrow—tomor row! PAUL: Listen, Francoise— FRANCOISE: (as if humor ing a child) I know, darling. You’re tired—you’re not in the mood—that’s all right. You go to bed—Clike a mother) go to sleep. PAUL: But, my dear— FRANCOISE: (interrupting) That’s all right. You go to sleep. Dream — forget your troubles—Don’t try to tell me anything—not tonight. To bed, dear. J won’t come back until you’re fast asleep. I’ve a million things to do. Remember we’ve ten people coming for dinner tomorrow. (laughs lightly) I must plan my menu—and write my placecards—and—so— get a good night’s rest, and don’t worry about anything— because in the morning—in the sunshine—everything will be all right—Good night, darling! PAUL: Good night—but— FRANCOISE: (softly) Tomorrow—(door heard closing softly. Music suggested—“Then You'll Remember Me,” from The Bohemian Girl.) NARRATOR: In the morning Paul finds a note from Francoise: “My love” it reads, “I have so many errands to do for tonight’s dinner. I am leaving without waking you up. Be sure to be back by six o’clock to make the cocktails. Lovingly.” He crumples it—and tosses it into the fire—breakfasts alone—and hurries to the theatre for the final rehearsal. (Babel of voices —tuning of instruments—voices calling, ad lib: “Monsieur Mollet” — “Monsieur Mollet” — “Everything’s ready.”’) CHAUTARD: What’re we waiting for? VOICE: We're starting with the third act, Governor. CHAUTARD: (calling Mollet! Mollet!) (other voices, off, take up the cry—mingled with tuning instruments and sounds as of moving scenes, etc. Through them sound muffled voices.) PAUL: They’re calling me, Odette—I tell you it was impossible last night. When I got home she was asleep. I hadn’t the heart to— ODETTE: (angrily) And how about this morning? PAUL: She left before I was up. CHAUTARD: Odette! ODETTE: (to Paul pettishly) I’m not on at the curtain, he knows that. Well—when are you going to tell her? PAUL: I'll tell her tonight— but we’re giving a dinner—you (calling, off) know — for Winterstein, the author— ODETTE: (heavily ironic) Oh—of course your wife’s dinner parties are more important than our love—(bitterly) I know you, Paul, so well. You'll never tell her. Let’s just forget about it. PAUL: Don’t go, Odette— wait! I’ll tell her tonight, after they go. I swear it! ODETTE: You’ve sworn before— PAUL: (earnestly) I swear it, Odette, on our love— ODETTE: (whispering) On our love. PAUL: I must be mad about you—to hurt her the way I’m going to. Kiss me! ODETTE: Tomorrow—if you keep your word— CHAUTARD: (off, shouting) Odette! Odette! For the love of Heaven, where are you? ODETTE: (calling back impatientlv) . All right—all right! (off) I’m coming! (Vamp of “Don’t Say Good Night,” from “Wonder Bar.’’) CHAUTARD: (calling) Ready, Odette? ODETTE: (off, beginning to sing—“Don’t Say Good Night,” from “Wonder Bar.”’) A _ little smile, a little glance, A lilting tune, a little dance—A little romance steals into your heart. A little blush — a little lie — (Through the music—two shots ring out — hoarse cries — screams.) PAUL: (calls wildly) Odette! —She’s dead, Chautard—she’s dead! CHAUTARD: Call the police! Have the doors watched! Let nobody out! See! yonder! (excitedly) Who’s behind that set? VOICE: (off) No one, Monsieur Chautard! PAUL (frenzied) Who did it, Chautard? Who did it? Can’t you find him? CHAUTARD: (calming him) oe worry, Paul—We’ll get im! VOICE: (off) There he is! Up there! Up in the flies! Coming down that ladder—(voices in savage uproar fading as narrator continues.) NARRATOR: And this, friends, is but the beginning of the weirdest murder mystery of the generation. Who was the man in the wings? Who shot Odette? Who suffered a thousand torments mentally? Who was the brutal yet courtly inquisitor ? Those who have seen Miss Chatterton in “Journal of a Crime” say that she surpasses all her former portrayals. You Will), see “Her .a-c.7... ANeXL Ab the ... . Theatre. Until then, good bye and GOOD LUCK. THE END a ——————— Page Eighteen 5