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Choice Classic Radio Detectives | Old Time Radio
Sherlock Holmes: The Priory School (Hobbs & Shelley)
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- [00:02]
Norman Shelley
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 over here. I found him. Oh, well done Watson. This has been an accident. Huh, there he is, look. This is no accident, Watson. It would take a terrible blow to crush a man's skull like this. The poor fellow's been brutally murdered. My medical training had given me some preparation for the many faces of death. And on several investigations with my friend Sherlock Holmes, I had reason to be grateful. My name is Watson, Dr. Watson. So often privileged to share the adventures of Sherlock Holmes. I will tell you what happened in the case of the Priory School. We had some dramatic entrances in exit upon our small stage at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes and I. But I can't recollect any as sudden and startling as the first appearance of Dr. Thornicroft Huxtable. MA, PhD etc Etc. His card seemed too small to carry the weight of his academic distinctions, but he himself was pompous, the embodiment I possession and solidity. But this impression lasted little longer than his greeting. How do you do, gentlemen? I am very, very grate. Heavens, Holmes. Let's see. Well the old remedy is the thing here. Brandy and water again. Great believer. Ed does a trick you must admit. Oh, I do. Ah, he's beginning to stir. Return ticket from Mettleton in his watch pocket. That's in the north. He must have started out early coming round. Only curiosity, Watson. Mr. Holmes, do forgive this weakness. Oh, it's nothing doctor. Here, let me help you into this chair. Echo, you are very kind. There you are, sir. Oh, Mr. Holmes, it's absolutely imperative that you come back to Mackleton with me by the next train. I'm afraid that's quite out of the question, Mr. Holmes. Have you heard nothing of the abduction of the Duke of Holderness's son? Holderness, the former cabinet minister? Exactly so. The Duke of Holderness committed his only son, young Lord Sulphur, to my charge. Little did I know it was the prelude of the most crushing misfortune. Fortune of my Life. Pray go on with your account, Dr. Hual. Of course. Well, the boy arrived on May 1st, a charming youth, but I venture to say far from happy at home. He separated, you know, not long before the boy came to me. Yes, I remember that the Duchess went to live in the south of France, didn't you? That is so. The boy's sympathies were very much with her, I gather, but he had to remain with his father. Anyway, he settled down at the diary at once. That's good then. Yes. Well he was found to be missing first thing last Tuesday morning. His bed had been slept in and he obviously got dressed in his usual school suit. When the alarm was raised I at once called the roll of the whole establishment, boys, masters and servants. It revealed that Lord Saltire hadn't disappeared alone. No, no, thank you. The German archmaster was missing also. Ah. His bed had also been slept in, but he seemed to have gone away partly dressed. His shirt and socks were lying on the floor. His bicycle was missing from the head. Surely there's an official investigation afoot? Yes, though only locally. It has proved completely disappointing. So far the whole affair has been handled deplorably. I quite agree, sir, but I am not to blame. I knew of your reputation of wanting to come here at once, but His Grace would not countenance it. Actually Holderness hall is quite close to the Priory School and at first we all thought that the boy must have gone bare. Sudden, sudden burst of homesickness, you know, it does happen. But the Duke was as surprised as we were when he heard the news. Had the boy a bicycle? No. Was any bicycle missing? Other than the Germans I mean? No. Hold on. I see. Did anyone call to see the boy on the day before he disappeared? No. Did he get any letters? Yes, he did get one letter from his father. How do you know it is from his father? The coat of on the envelope and His Grace's handwriting. It is easily recognizable. Had the boy ever had a letter from France? From France? Why no. I should have remembered that you said though that the boy's sympathies were with his mother. Who told you that? I had a confidential talk with his Grace's secretary, Mr. James Wilder. I see. Mr. Holmes, I shall have to be leaving for Houston. I must get back to the school at a time like this. You understand? We shall be leaving for Houston, Dr. Huxtable. Ah, Captain. You, I and my friend Watson. This case of the Priory School has some singular features, yet it should be capable of solution if the scent isn't too Cold around your door, Dr. Huxtable. Perhaps two old hounds like Watson and myself may get a slip. Well gentlemen, this is the Priory School. Roberts, these gentlemen scopes if you please. Very well, Dr. Oxtable. Sir. Sir. Yes? The Duke is here, sir. His grace is in the study and Mr. Wilde is with him, sir. He seems rather upset. Oh dear me. Then I must see them without delay. Come gentlemen and I will introduce you at once. Good evening, huggers. Good evening, Huxtable. May I introduce Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, your grace. How do you do? And Mr. Wilder, his grace's secretary. How do you, Dr. Huxtable? I called on you this morning too late to prevent you from starting for London. His Grace was very surprised to learn that your object was to invite Mr. Holmes to undertake this case. Oh but surely, Mr. Holmes. You are well aware, Dr. Huxtable, that his Grace is particularly anxious to avoid all public scandal. He prefers to take as few people as possible into his confidence. Your grace. You would have done wise that you consult me, Dr. Huxtable, but since Mr. Holmes has already been taken into your confidence it would be absurd for us not to avail ourselves of his services. I thank your grace. May I ask whether you have formed any explanation as to your son's disappearance? No sir, I have not. Forgive me for asking this but do you think her Grace had anything to do with it? I. I do not think so. The other most obvious explanation is that he's been kidnapped. Have you received any demand for ransom? No sir. Your grace, your son received a letter from you on the day this incident occurred. Was there anything in it which might have induced him to run away from here? No sir, there certainly was not. Did you post that letter yourself? I Beg your pardon, Mr. Holmes. His Grace is not in the habit of posting letters himself. This one was laid with others on the study table for me to put into the post bag. I see. You remember seeing this particular letter, Mr. Wilder? I do. How many letters did your grace write that day, may I ask? Oh, 20 or 30, I suppose. I have a large correspondence. But surely all this is rather irrelevant? Not entirely. For my part, Mr. Holmes, I have advised the police to turn their attention to the sight of France. The lad had the most wrong headed opinions about some things and it is possible he might have fled to my wife and that this German has helped him. And now gentlemen, good day to you all. This case grows upon me, Watson. Certainly mysterious. All right. There are one or two geographical features I'd like to acquaint you with. Bowman, I got hold of this large scale ordinance, miss. Look here. This dark square is the Priory School. Here's the main road running east and west past it. Now by a heavy chance we're able to check what passed along this road during the night in question. At this point to the east where my pipes lie, a constable was on duty from 12 to 6. He's positive the man and boy could not have passed without him seeing them. Good. What about the other direction? Down the road to the west, here is the Red Bull. Now on that night the landlady was ill. She sent to Mackleton for a doctor, but he was out on another case and he didn't get to her until morning. The people at the inn were worried and they swear that one or another of them was on the alert all night, continually looking along the road waiting to see the doctor coming. They saw no man or boy. Supposing they went across country. Oh, but what about the bicycle? A good cyclist doesn't need a road, does he? Well, no he doesn't. Very well then. Assuming the recycle was used and not along the road, this is the only possible direction to the north. Here across this moorland. It's intersected with paths and sparsely populated. To the south here towards me there are obstacles, stone walls and so on. No, they would take to the moor. Seems like it. So it's the moor we must search. Tomorrow then. Yes, I'll wake you early. We shall have a long day ahead of us. Hello, hello, hello. What have we here? Have you found something, Holmes? Oh, I see a perfect bicycle tarmac. Oh, but we don't know whether it's the bicycle, do we? I am familiar with 42 different impressions left by tyres. From what the other masters could tell me, this was the make of tire Heidegger had on his machine. And the rider was traveling away from the Priory School. How do you deal there? Simple. Just look at these impressions. Some are deeper than others in this soft ground, so obviously the deeper are those of the rear wheel with all the rider's weight on it. You can see several places where they pass over the shallower ones. So then let us follow and see what else we may find. Over here. I found him hiding her. Oh, well done, Watson. This has been an accident. Huh? I just happened to spot the bicycle wheel beating through these bushes. There he is, look. This is no accident, Watson. The poor fellow's been brutally murdered. The body and the bicycle concealed here. There's no doubt that this is hiding. From who else? He fits all the descriptions I've had. It would Take a terrible blow to crush a man's skull like this. Now he threw a coat on over his night things and put on his shoes, but not his socks. But the boy, we're told, was fully dressed when he disappeared. Looks as though the German had to act quickly. Exactly. And why? Because he looked out of his bedroom window and saw the boy leaning. He threw on his things and set off after him. Why on a bicycle? Surely he could have caught him on foot. No, no, the boy was moving too quickly for him. Well, let us continue our reconstruction. Where we are now is some five miles from the school. At this point the pursuer met his death. And how? By a great blow, hard enough and vicious enough to crush his skull. A 10 year old boy couldn't have done that. Then the boy did have someone with him? Almost certainly. But we're forgetting one thing. What, what's that? We've searched minutely around the body. And have we found the track of any other bicycle than this? Well, I was going to mention it, we hadn't. Or any footprints? No, not at all. Just cows. Hoof marks all over the place. I thought we were getting on too well. I say, look, there's a fellow cutting Pete about half a mile back. We must send him off with a message to the police about this unfortunate German. Then there's nothing for us, I'm afraid, but to go on in the direction these cycle tracks were heading and see where it leads to, if anywhere. Well Holmes, I was never so glad. Steer in ahead of me. I've inclined to agree with you. The fighting cock from the look of its signboard and vision for the square mule ever since we left those sacrifices. I say, Holmes, what's the matter? Something lame will. I must have twisted my ankle, Watson. Loose stone just now, poor fellow. Be all right in a minute or two. Perhaps. I'll take a look at that when we get indoors. Here, come on, take my arm. Oh, thank you. Ah, this must be the landlord. I hope his food looks more savorier than he does. Good day, Mr. Reuben Hayes. I suppose you haven't such a thing as a carriage in your stable. No, I have not. How do you get my name so fat? It's printed on the board above your head. Oh, by the by I twisted my ankle just up the road there. I can hardly put my foot to the ground. Don't put it to ground, babe. But I can't walk. Well then hop. I, I could just manage a bicycle at one foot. I think I pay a sovereign to hire. Ah, where do you Want to go to Holden's horse. Oh, are you Bowser? To Dukeland? Well, we have news of his son for him. You're looking for the lad, are you? We were, but he's been seen. Where? In Liverpool. They expect to get him anytime now. Oh, well that's good news then, isn't it? Now surely you can help my friend in some. He can't walk on like this. I happen I can. You got a bicycle for him? No, haven't got no bicycle. I tell you what though, I'll let you have two horses to take you as far as the old is only a couple of miles. Capital. And now I think we'll have something to eat if you'll be so kind. Right gents. First store on the left as you go in. I just go and see what they can find for these. Thank you. Now come on Kent, feed on me as heavily as you like. Thank you. Here we are. Good. And thank you for your comfort and aid, Watson. My ankle is better already. For your symphony, Holmes. What game are you up to now? I could have sworn that was a very nasty sprain. Well, I thought if our landlord had a bicycle. I should like to have a look at it. All he seems to have is a couple of horses, Watson. What? Cows, Watson, cows. Did you see any on the moor? No, no I didn't. Nor did I. Well then. But there were hoof marks all over the place where Heidegger was killed. That's right. I thought at the time funny place to have cows milling around. But you never know. There were cow hoof marks, weren't it? Oh yes. Quickly Watson, before he comes back. We must nip round to his stables and see what we can see. The stable. Right. Oh now don't forget about the limp though, Holmes. He's going to have shim. Brute. Let's have a look at his hoop. See Watson? See what? Old shoes but new nails. Watson, this case deserves to become plastic. All right. You won't look out. Hey you, you infernal spice. What are you doing there? Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes. One might think that you were afraid of our finding something out. Now look here, mister. I don't care for folk poking about my face without leave. But sooner you pay your score and get in your way, the better I'll be pleased. Now look here. All right, Mr. Hayes, no harm then. We've been having a look at your horses. But I think I'll try to walk after all. It's not far I believe. What? We were getting warm at that inn as the children Say we get colder every step we take away from it. No, no, I can't possibly leave it. I must take another look at the place in a less obtrusive way. All right, up on this bench will do. I think that's better. Hello. What have you seen? There's a fellow on a bicycle coming from the direction of the hall. He's moving. Phil, get down behind this Brad door, quick. Ow. Let's see who it is. 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. Mr. Duke. Secretary Wanda. So it is. Come, Wattle, let's see what he's up to. Bicycling about the countryside. You shan't see anything at all soon. It's getting dark. I hadn't noticed. Ah, they just lit the lamp in that first floor room. I think we'll hold on here until it's dark enough to go down and take a really close look. I can't understand all these rifles and departures. First Wilder on his bicycle and then a pony trap rushes off towards Chesterfield in another gallops of his being. Watson, I want to take a peek through that first floor window. Do you think you could make a bag for me? I do. Right up. Give you right ready. Just like. Well, Holmes. Come along, Watson. I think we've gathered all that we can. Tonight I must telegraph to Chesterfield and tomorrow morning I think we'll pay a visit to Holderness hall. Good morning, Mr. Wilder. Dr. Watson and I have come to see his grace. I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes, His Grace is far from well. He has been very much upset by the tragic news yesterday about Heidegger. Dr. Huxtable telegraphed at once. I understand, but I must see the Duke. Mr. Wilder. Well, Mr. Holmes, what can I do for you, your grace? I think I could speak more freely in Mr. Wilder's absence, sir. Ever. Then he had better go. As your grace wishes. Now, Mr. Holmes. Your Grace, Your son is at the Fighting Cock Inn, about two miles from your park gate. The. The Fighting Cock? Yes. And whom do you accuse? I accuse you. Your Grayson. I looked through a window there last night and saw you and your son together. Yes, Mr. Holmes, I offered a substantial reward to the person whose information should restore my son to me. If this need go no further than your friend here and yourself, I am ready to write a cheque for double the sum. There is a man's death to be accounted for. Surely a man cannot be condemned for a murder at which he was not present. He's horrified to hear of it. I take it your words apply to Mr. James Wilder? Yes. Yes. And that he is not the murderer? No, the murderer has got clear by now. Mr. Reuben Hayes, landlord of the Fighting Cock, was arrested at Chesterfield on my information at 11 o'clock last night. Hayes caught. I'm very glad to know it, sir. And now we must give our attention to what can be done to extricate my son from this situation. Oh, Lord Saltire is perfectly safe now. I mean my son. James. James? James Wilder. No secretary? No, sir. My son. Oh. Your Grace, I didn't. Your Grace, I must ask you to be more explicit. Mr. Holmes, I will conceal nothing from you. When I was young, I loved with such a love as comes only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but she refused it because such a match might ruin my career. She died leaving me with this child, James. I see. I couldn't openly acknowledge his relationship to me, so I tried to make it up to him by giving him the best of educations and keeping him as close to me as I could. Yes, but he found out my secret. Ever since he's held over me his power to provoke a scandal at any time. He was also inordinately jealous of my legitimate son and heir. Indeed, he hates him. That is why I sent Arthur, Lord Saltire, to what I thought was the safety of Dr. Huxtable's Priory School. Your Grace, I think I can continue the story now. Will you permit me? Why, of course. You wrote to Lord Saltar the day before he was kidnapped. But James Wilder inserted into your letter a note asking the boy to meet him behind the school late that night. He probably said he had a message from the Duchess for him. How could you know this? I assume it in detail. It may not be quite precise in general. I'm sure it did. Pray go on then. Mr. Holmes, Lord Saltire came to the appointment and found the accomplice, Reuben Hayes, there with the pony he was forced to mount and they went off across the moor. It appears, however, that the German master, Heidegger, saw the boy leave and followed him on his bicycle. When he caught up with them, Hayes killed him brutally. Hayes then took your son onto his inn where the boy has been a prisoner ever since. Well, I don't know how you arrive at all that about the pony and the bicycle and so on. Oh, the whole story was written plainly on the surface of the moor for us to read, wasn't it Watson? Well, there were marks and tracks of one kind and another, but I'm hanged if I can see how they all come into it. Those cows, Bruce. Cows. Cows. Well yes Holmes, you remember the marks there? Hoofs all around where we found the bullet. Cows on the moor. You can take it from me, Mr. Holmes, no cars are on that moor, nor ever have been to my knowledge. I quite agree, your grace. May I ask you to finish the narrative for us? Very well. James was quite unnerved by the death of the German master. He told me where Arthur was held, but begged me to keep his secret until he could find a way of, well, clearing everything up. You agree? On condition that I should be able to go and see Arthur for myself after nightfall. James at once rode off on his bicycle to tell Hayes. Ah yes, Dr. Watson and I saw him at the inn. Hayes lost no time in making off in his track. I went there sometime afterwards and I gather you saw me with my son. Just so. Holmes. Holmes, I've told you all I can. Having frank with you. Please be as frank with me. I will. In the first place, your grace, I'm bound to tell you that you've condoned a felony and aided the escape of a murderer. I'm ready to take all the consequences. Oh, I'm not here in an official position and there's no reason, so long as the ends of justice are served, why I should disclose all I know. Hayes will be hanged. Never doubt that. As to your son James, I would warn your grace that his continued presence in your household can only lead to misfortune. I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that he shall seek his fortune in Australia. Then my friend Watson and I can congratulate ourselves upon several happy results from our little visit to. Yes indeed, Mr. Holmes. Here is your check. Thank you, your grace. But before you go, what is all that about cows on the moor? Yes, Holmes, I want to know that too. The answer is behind you, sir. I, I'm afraid I don't quite follow. This glass case and the most interesting of all the exhibits inside. Oh, those, yes, of course, yes, they were dug up in the bed of the moat some years ago. What are they, Andres? Oh, they're supposed to have been used by some of the marauding barons of Holderness in the middle ages they attached them to the horses hooves. You see they're. They're shaped below with a cloven foot of iron. So the horses tracks would look like cows and drove the sewers off the scent. I suggest, your grace, you examine them closely. I fancy you'll find a few traces of very recent mud if you run your finger along them. Yes, it's the second most interesting object that I've seen in the Malone. And the first. This check you gave me. You see, I am a poor man. Your grace. The Priory School was one of the stories of Sherlock Holmes written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. My real name is Norman Shelley. My friend Carlton Hobbs played Sherlock Holmes and I was Dr. Watson. Michael Hardwick wrote the script for this BBC production from London. Need I say I look forward to the pleasure of your company again. And soon for more of the adventures of Sherlock.