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Choice Classic Radio Detectives | Old Time Radio
Sherlock Holmes: The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter (Hobbs & Shelley)
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Your message amplified. Ready to share your message with the world? Start your podcast journey with Podbean. Podbean. Podbean. Podbean. Podbean the AI powered all in one podcast platform. Thousands of businesses and enterprises trust Podbean to launch their podcasts. Launch your podcast on Podbean today. My school uses Podbean. My church too. I love it. I really do. Welcome to Choice Classic Radio where we bring to you the greatest old time radio shows. Like us on Facebook, subscribe to us on YouTube and thank you for donating@ChoiceClassicRadio.com capital. My dear Watson, let us return to our humble abode. 221B Baker street, please. Cab. From London we present the Missing Three Quarter A play for radio by Michael Hardwick, based on the short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. THE Missing Three Quarter Things had indeed been very slow with us. I had learned to dread such periods of inaction, for I knew by experience that Sherlock Holmes's brain was so abnormally active that it was dangerous to leave it without material upon which to work. For years I had gradually weaned him from that drug mania which had threatened once to check his remarkable career. But I was well aware that the fiend was not dead, but only sleeping. Therefore, I blessed the hour on a gloomy February morning some seven or eight years ago that a telegram arrived at Baker street with an enigmatic message to break that dangerous calm which brought more peril to my friend than than all the storms of his tempestuous life. It says, please await me. A terrible misfortune. Right wing. Free quarter missing, indispensable tomorrow. Signed, over. Let me see. Thank you. Strand, first mark and dispatch, 10:36. No doubt the telegram will shortly be followed by the sender. Been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes? Inspector Stanley Hopkins advised me to come to see you. He said so far as he could see, the case was more in your line than that of the regular police. Then please sit down, Mr. Overton, and tell me slowly and quietly exactly what it is that has occurred and how you desire that I should help you. It's this way, Mr. Holmes. I'm the skipper of the Cambridge 15 and Godfrey Staunton is our best man. Tomorrow we play Oxford. Yesterday we all came up and we settled at Bentley's private hotel. At 10 o'clock I went round and saw that all the fellows had gone to roost. This morning the porter comes to me in a great state of agitation. Mr. Overton, sir. Good heavens, man, what on earth the matter? It's Mr. Staunton sir. He's gone. Gone? His room's empty. His bed's not been slept in. I don't follow you. I spins here. Oh, yes, they're still in his room. But he went off last night, sir. He did? Towards the Strand with another fellow. I see him go. What other fellow? Rough looking chap with a beard. He called here with a note for Mr. Staunton. I took it up to him. I thought he was going to faint after he'd read it. Faint? Yes. He fell back in his chair as if he'd been poleaxed. I'll give a drink of water. And then he said it was all right and he'd come down here where the fellow was. Then they had a few words, and off they went towards the Strand. Almost running, they were. And what did you do when you heard this? Mr. Overton wired to Cambridge to find out if anything had been heard of him there. Could he have got back to Cambridge? Yes. There is a late train, but no one has seen him. Incredible. Just before the varsity match. What did you do next? Then I wired to Lord Mount James. Why to Lord Mount James? Godfrey's an orphan. Lord Mount James? His nearest relative. His uncle, I believe. Indeed. Well, this throws new light upon the matter. Lord Mount James is one of the richest men in England. So I've heard. Godfrey's his heir, and the old boy is nearly 80. Cram full of gout, too, they say. He could chalk his billiard cue with his knuckles. Poor fellow. He's an absolute miser. Have you heard from Lord mountjane? No. Well, I have a clear day, and I shall be happy to look into the matter. Now, let us step round together to this hotel and see if the porter can throw any fresh light upon things. Can you describe the man with the beard for me? Well, he was about 50. What a gentleman. But not a working man, if you see what I mean, sir. What state would you say this bearded man was in? Calm. Excited. Oh, he's very pale. Very pale indeed. And though I did notice when I give him the note to take up, his hand was shaking something terrible. Did you take any other message for Mr. Staunton? Yes, sir. Telegraph. Ah. What time was it? About six. I took it to him in his room. Were you present when he opened it? I waited while he wrote the answer. Did you take the reply? No, sir. He said. All right, porter, I'll take this myself. What did he write it with? A pen, sir. Have you by any chance a pair of telegraphic forms on which he wrote this message? Yes sir. Here they are, sir. Good. They haven't been used since. Thank you. Now then, if I hold this form up to the window. It's a pity he didn't write in pencil. I rejoice to perceive though that he wrote it with a double pointed quill pen. And I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon his blotting paper. I think the time has come for us to visit our missing gentleman's room. Yes, I fancy this is what they're looking for. Hold it up to the mirror, Mr. Hobbs. Oh, that's unnecessary, Mr. Hilbert. The paper is thin and the reverse will give the message, you see. Damned bias. For God's sake. So these six words are the tail end of the telegram which Godfrey Thornton dispatched a few hours before his disappearance. Stand by us, for God's sake. Sounds pretty desperate, Holmes. Evidently he saw a formidable danger approaching from which someone else could protect him. Us. It says. Stand by us. Yes, Watson. So another person was involved, man with a beard. Then what is the connection between Godfrey Staunton and the bearded man? And what is the third source from which they sought help against that pressing danger? Well, all we have to find is to whom the telegram was addressed. Exactly. My dear Watson, your reflection, though profound, had already crossed my mind. But I dare say it may have come to your notice that if you walk into a post office and demand to see the counterfoil of another man's message, there may be some disinclination on the part of the officials to oblige you. Really hope. Meanwhile I should like in your presence, Mr. Overton, to go through those papers which have been left upon the table. Certainly. Letters and bills mostly. No, nothing here by the way. Yes, I suppose your friend was a healthy young fellow. Nothing amiss with him. Sounds better. Perhaps he was not so strong as you supposed. With your assent I will put one or two of these papers in my pocket in case they should bear upon our future inquiry. One moment, one moment. Who are you, sir? And by what right do you touch this gentleman's papers? I am a private detective and I am endeavoring to explain his disappearance. Oh you are, are you? And who instructed you, eh? This gentleman, Mr. Staunton's friend, was referred to me by Scotland Yard. And who are you, sir? I am Cyril Overton, sir. And it was you who sent me a telegram? My name is Lord Mount James. I came round as quickly as the Bayswater bus would bring me. So you have instructed a detective? Yes, sir. And are you prepared to beat the costs? I have no doubt sir, that my friend Godfrey, when we find him, will be prepared to do that. But if he never found it, answered me, that is. No doubt his family. Nothing of the short chap don't look to me for a penny. No, not a penny. I am all the family that this young man has got, and I tell you that I am not responsible. You understand that, Mr. Detective, I quite understand your position. Perhaps you don't quite understand mine. Godfrey Staunton appears to have been a poor man. If he has been kidnapped, it could not have been for anything which he himself possesses. The fame of your wealth has got abroad, Lord Mount James, and it is entirely possible that a gang of thieves has secured your nephew in order to gain from him some information as to your house, your habits and your treasure. Heavens, sir, what an idea. I never thought of such villainy. What inhuman rogues there are in the world. But God, please. If lad a staunch lad, nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away. I'll have the plate moved over to the bank this evening. And in the meantime, spare no pains, Mr. Detective, to bring him safely back. As to money, so far as a fiver or even a tenner goes, you can always look to me. Good day to you. Come on, generous old soul. Well, Mr. Holmes, what's next? I'm afraid we must leave you now, Ms. Overton can't hear from you before the match. I'm sorry. I very much doubt it. Best of luck anyway. Thank you, Doctor. Bye now. Isn't there anything we can do about that telegram, Holmes? It's worth trying, Watson. Of course, with a warrant we could demand to see the counterfoils, but we've not reached that stage yet. I don't suppose they remember faces in so busy a place as a post office. Let's venture it. Can I help you, sir? Oh, I'm so sorry to trouble you. There's some small mistake about a telegram I sent yesterday. I've had no answer and I very much fear that I must be permitted to put my name at the end. Could you tell me if this was so? What time was it, sir? A little after six. And whom was it to the last Podbean. Your message amplified, ready to share your message with the world. Start your podcast journey with Podbean. Podbean, the AI powered all in one podcast platform. Thousands of businesses and enterprises trust Podbean to launch their podcasts. Use Podbean to record your podcast. Use PodBean AI to optimize your podcast. Use PodBean AI to turn your blog into a Podcast. Use Podbean to distribute your podcast everywhere. Launch your podcast on Podbean today. Words in it were. For God's sake. I'm very anxious of getting no answers. Oh, let me see. Ah, here it is. Oh, there is no name at the end then. That, of course, accounts for my getting no answer. Oh, well, good morning, miss, and many thanks for having relieved my mind. Good morning. Well, Holmes? We progress, my dear Watson, we progress. I had certain different schemes for getting a glimpse of that telegram, but I could hardly hope to succeed the very first time. And what have you gained, Gabby? Gabby, what have I gained? A starting point for our investigation. Please step in, Watson. Thank you. At King's Cross station, gentlemen. We have a journey then. Yes, I think we must run down to Cambridge together. Dr. Leslie Armstrong. I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I am also aware of your profession, one of which I by no means approve. In that, Doctor, you will find yourself in agreement with every criminal in the country. May I introduce my friend, Dr. Watson? How do you do, sir? Of course. I am delighted to meet one of the heads of our professor. Mr. Holmes, so far as your efforts are directed towards the suppression of crime, they must have the support of every reasonable member of the community. Though I cannot doubt that the official machinery is amply sufficient for the purpose. Where your calling is more open to criticism is when you pry into the secrets of private individuals, when you break up family matters which are better hidden, and when, incidentally, you waste the time of men who are more busy than yourself. No doubt, Doctor, but I may tell you that we are doing the reverse of what you very justly blame, and that we're endeavoring to prevent public exposure of private matters which must follow when once the case is in the hands of the official police. I have come to ask you about Mr. Godfrey spawn. What about him? You know him, do you not? He is an intimate friend of mine. You're aware that he has disappeared? Indeed. He left his hotel last night. He has not been heard of since. No doubt he will return. Tomorrow is the varsity football match. I have no sympathy with these childish games. The young man's fate interests me deeply, since I know him and like him, the football match does not come within my horizon at all. I claim your sympathy, then, in my investigation of Mr. Staunton's fate. Do you know where he is? Certainly not. Was Mr. Staunton a healthy man? Absolutely. Did you ever know him ill? Never. Then perhaps you will explain this receipted bill for 13 guineas paid by Mr. Godfrey Staunton last month to Dr. Leslie Armstrong of Cambridge. I picked it up from among the papers on his desk. I do not feel there is any reason why I should render an explanation to you, Mr. Holmes. Very well. If you prefer public explanation it must come sooner or later. You would really be wiser to take me into your complete confidence. I know nothing about it. Did you hear from Mr. Staunton in London? Certainly not. Dear me, dear me. The post office again. A most urgent telegram was dispatched to you from London by Godfrey Staunton at 6:15 yesterday evening. And yet you have not had it. I shall certainly go down to the office here and register a complaint. I'll trouble you to walk out of my house, sir. And you can tell your employer, Lord Mark James, that I do not wish to have anything to do either with him or with his agents. Dr. Leslie Armstrong is certainly a man of energy. Watson. I have not seen a man who, if he turned his talents that way, was more calculated to fill the gap left by the illustrious Moriarty. But what happens now? Oh my poor one. But if you would engage a room in that little inn just opposite Armstrong's house I may have time to make a few inquiries. Holmes, where have you been all this time? Oh, here and there. Here and there. Ah, what's that? Let me see now. Carried in a pair of graves outside the doctor's door. It's been out three hours, started at half past six and here it is back again. That gives a radius of 10 or 12 miles. And he does it once or sometimes twice a day. Nothing unusual for a doctor in practice. Ah, but Armstrong is not really a doctor in practice. He's a lecturer and consultant. Why then does he make these long journeys? And who is it that he visits? Well how about trying his coachman? My dear Watson, can you doubt that I have already done that? I don't know whether it came from his own innate depravity or from the promptings of his master, but he was rude enough to set a dog at me. All that I have learned I got from a friendly native in the yard of our own inn. It was he who told me of the doctor's habits and of his daily journeys. While he was speaking the doctor's carriage came round to the door. Couldn't you follow it then? Excellent Watson, you're scintillating this evening. The idea did cross my mind. There is, as you may have observed, a bicycle shop next to our inn. Into this I rushed, engaged the bicycle and was able to get started before the carriage was out of sight. And he had got well out on the country road when a somewhat mortifying incident occurred. The carriage stopped, the doctor alighted, walked swiftly back to where I had also halted and told me in an excellent sardonic fashion that he feared the road was narrow and that he hoped his carriage did not impede the passage of my bicycle. Confounded cheek. Oh, nothing could have been more admirable than it way of putting it. I advance, rode past the carriage and went on for a few miles. Then I halted in a convenient place to see if it would pass me. There was no sign of it. Gone off down the side road then evidently you think he knows where Staunton is, Holmes? I swear it. And if he knows then it'll be our own fault if we cannot manage to know also. No, I shall not be satisfied until I have made the matter clear. Clear? I fancy a good deal may depend upon what the moing will bring. More coffee, Holmes? No thank you, Watson. I've had a note from the doctor. Oh yeah? Listen to this. Sir, I can assure you that you are wasting your time in dogging my movements. No spying upon me can in any way help Mr. Godfrey's phone to me. And I am convinced that the best service you can do to that gentleman is to return at once to London and to report to your employer that you are unable to place him. Yours faithfully, Leslie Armstrong. That man has the cheek of the devil. An outspoken honest antagonist is the Doctor. Oh well, he excites my curiosity. I must really know more before I leave him. I say the carriage is at his door now, huh? There he is stepping into it. Yes sir. He's glancing up at our window now. Holmes, supposing I try my luck on the bike? Oh no, no, no, no. My dear Watson, with all respect to your natural acumen, I do not think that you're quite a match for the worthy doctor. I think that possibly I can attain our end by some independent explorations of my own. You're not going to leave me twiddling my thumbs in this place again, are you? Hang it, I'm afraid sir. Oh but dash, it hurt. But I hope to bring back a more favorable report to you before night. Very well, Holmes, I only hope you do. A blank day I'm afraid Watson, a blank day. Oh, I might have known it. Where have you been? Having got the Doctor's general direction I visited all the villages upon that side of Cambridge. I've covered some ground I can tell you. Chesterton, Histon, Water Beach, Oakington. Oh, what doing? Comparing notes for Publicans and other local news agencies. Nothing. Oh, by the way, is there a telegram for me? Oh yes. Ah, I opened it. I didn't understand it though. It says ask for Pompey from Jeremy Dixon, Trinity College. Mean anything to you? Oh, it's clear enough. It's from our friend Overton. In answer to a question from me. I'll just send round a note to Mr. Jeremy Dixon and then I have no doubt that our luck will turn. Oh, by the way, any news of a match? Oh yes, yes, the, the local paper has an excellent account. In its last edition Oxford won by a goal and two tries. You want to hear anything of it? I'll just read you the last sentence. The defeat of the light blues may be entirely attributed to the unfortunate absence of the crack international Godfrey Staunton, whose want was felt at every instant of the game. Then our friend Overton's forebodings have been justified. Personally I'm in agreement with Dr. Armstrong and football does not come within my horizon. More's the pity for you, Holmes. At any rate, let us follow the example of the footballers and take an early night in bed. I foresee that tomorrow may be an eventful day. Holmes, where have you been this time? And what are you doing with that hypodermic syringe? Don't tell me you. No, no, no, my dear fellow, there's no cause for alarm. It is not the instrument of evil. Upon this occasion on this syringe I base all my hopes. I've just returned from a small scouting expedition and everything is favorable. Eat a good breakfast, Watson, for I propose to get upon Dr. Armstrong's trail today and once on it I will not stop for rest or food until I run into his burrow. In that case, you best carry our breakfast with us. He's making an early start. The carriage is at the door already. Never mind, let him go. He'll be clever if he can drive where I cannot follow him. When you've finished, come downstairs with me and I'll introduce you to a detective who is a very eminent specialist in the work that lies before her. What on earth? Let me introduce you to Pompey. Pompey is the pride of the local drag hounds. No very great flyer as his build will show, but a staunch hound on a scent. Well Pompey, you may not be fast, but I expect you'll be too fast for a couple of middle aged London gentlemen. So I'll just take the liberty of fastening this leather leash to your collar. Now boy, come along and show what you can do? You run us off our legs at this rate. What have you done, Holmes? A threadbare and venerable device, but useful on occasion. I walked into the doctor's yard this morning and shot my syringe full of aniseed over the hind wheel of his carriage. A drag hound will follow aniseed from here to John O'GROZ. He's turning off into this lane. What? Hey, Holmes, it goes back almost in the direction of the town. Oh, the cunning rascal. This is how he gave me the slip the other night. This day tour has been entirely for our benefit then. No wonder my inquiries among these villages led to nothing. I'd very much like to know the reason for all this elaborate deception. This should be the village of Trumpington to the right of us. By Jove. Here's the Brom coming around the corner. Quick, Watson, quick. Oh, we're done. Into the field. Did you get a glimpse of Armstrong there? I did, head sunk on his hands. The image of distress, I'd say. I fear there is some dark ending to our quest. Come, Pompey. Ah, he's making for the cottage in the field. Now we shall see what we shall see. Listen. What's that? The doctor is coming back home. That settles it. We must see what it means before he comes. Who are you? Are you Mr. Godfrey Ston? Yes, as I am. But you're too late, she's dead. You can see for yourselves. She was very beautiful and very young. Consumption home, without a doubt. We did our best to keep it from everyone once a whisper gets about. So, gentlemen, you have attained your end. You have certainly chosen a delicate moment for your intrusion. I would not brawl in the presence of death, but I can assure you that if I were a younger man. Excuse me, Dr. Armstrong, I think we are a little at cross purposes. If you could step into the next room with us, we might each be able to give some light to the other upon this miserable affair. Very well. Well, sir, I wish you to understand in the first place that I am not employed by Lord Mount James, and that my sympathies in this matter are entirely against that nobleman. When a man is lost, it is my duty to ascertain his fate. But having done so, the matter ends so far as I'm concerned. If, as I imagine, there is no breach of the law in this matter, you can absolutely depend upon my discretion and my cooperation in keeping the facts out of the papers. Mr. Holmes, you are a good fellow. I had misjudged you and my apologies to you too. Sir? None at all, Dr. Armstrong. A year ago Godfrey Staunton married his landlady's daughter. She was good, beautiful and intelligent. No man need be ashamed of such a wife. But Godfrey was the heir to this crabbed old nobleman and it was certain that the news would have meant the end of his inheritance. I did all I could to help him to keep things straight. Thanks to this lonely cottage and his own discretion, Godfrey has up to now succeeded. But at last there came the terrible blow of this virulent illness. The poor boy had to go to London to play this match but he could not get out of it without explanations which would expose the secrets. He sent me a wire imploring me to do all I could. This was the telegram which you appear to have seen. I did not tell him how urgent the danger was, but I sent the truth to the girl's father and he very injudiciously communicated to Godfrey. The result was that he came straight away and has remained kneeling at the end of her bed until this morning. Death put an end to her sufferings. That is all. Mr. Holmes. I'm sure that I can rely upon your discretion and that of your friend. Yes, yes indeed, sir. Come Watson, let us be on our way. That was the Missing Three quarter by Michael Hardwick based on the short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes was played by Carlton Hobbs.