← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 629 - Pinch of Basil (New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes & Cavalcade of America)
02:01:38
We’re tipping our deerstalker cap to Basil Rathbone in celebration of his June 13th birthday. Of course, we’ll hear him as Sherlock Holmes in three old time radio adventures from Baker Street - “Murder in the Casbah” (originally aired on...
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Basil Rathbone
Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road and those who travel it wind up in the gut of the prison of the grave. The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The Adventures of Sam Spade Detective the Adventures of the Saint, starring Vincent Price. Bob Bailey in the exciting adventures of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Hello and welcome to down these Mean Streets with more old time radio detectives and crime solvers. This week we're tipping our deerstalker cap to the great Basil Rathbone. He was born June 13, 1892 and played many wonderful roles over his long career, including dastardly villains like Sir Guy of Gisborne and the Adventures of Robin Hood. But he'll forever be best remembered as Sherlock Holmes. And for many, his remains the definitive portrayal of the character. Rathbone, along with Nigel Bruce as Dr. Watson, starred as Holmes in 14 films and hundreds of radio episodes between 1939 and 1946. And for our birthday celebration today, we'll hear 33 of his appearances as the legendary detective. First up is Murder in the Kasbah from December 3, 1945, an adventure that takes Holmes and Watson from their home turf all the way to Algeria. Then our heroes go undercover in the circus in the indiscretion of Mr. Edwards, an episode also known as Murder under the Big Top. This one Originally aired on February 4, 1946. And finally, we'll hear the adventure of the Uneasy easy chair from May 13, 1946, where a clever killer turns a comfortable chair into a murder weapon. And we'll close our show with Basil Rathbone in a dramatic role that takes him away from Baker Street. It's an episode of the Cavalcade of America where he plays John Adams before Adams became the second President of the United States. It's set in the aftermath of the infamous Boston Massacre of 1770, where Adams takes up the unenviable task of defending the British soldiers charged with murder. Rathbone stars in John Yankee. It originally aired on NBC on August 29, 1950. It's a birthday party for Basil. And it gets underway right after these messages. The doctors we heard from had this to say a laxative should be effective, gentle, close to natural acting. A medicine that can be used with complete confidence. Now, Exlax has been popular with many doctors and millions of people over the years because chocolate and Exlax is effective overnight. It helps you toward your normal regularity. Ex lax is so gentle, so close to natural acting. There's no upset. That's why many doctors and millions of people use Exlax with complete confidence. Exlax, the laxative that helps you toward your normal regularity gently overnight. Friends, the name Fatima has always stood for quality. Fatimas are distinctive with a truly different flavor and aroma. And in King Size Fatima you get an extra mild and soothing smoke plus the added protection of Fatima quality. Remember, in Fatima, the difference is quality. Because of its quality, its extra mildness, its better flavor and aroma, Fatima continues to grow in favor among king size cigarette smokers everywhere. Switch to Fatima yourself today. Ask your dealer for Fatima in the bright sunny yellow pack. King size Fatima. The difference is quality. June, the traditional month of weddings. June, the month when almost every American knows someone, either relative or close friend, who goes on that happy march down the aisle. As you see the blushing bride and her bashful groom, your thoughts naturally turn to the future. Will these young people, starting off so bravely in life together, eventually own their own home, say, a pleasant white cottage in the country or the more sturdy red brick house of the city? They will if they follow this advice. Save money regularly through United States Savings Bonds. There's no better investment in the world. Savings bonds are both safe and profitable. In just 10 years time they pay back $4 for every three you put in. Now is the time to back your future. Save today for a happy tomorrow through United States Savings Bonds. They are always conveniently available at banks, post offices and on the payroll savings plan where you work. Do you like rich delicious chocolate flavored malteds? Well, you can make a malted just like that right in your own kitchen with Kraft Chocolate flavored Malted milk. Just make a tasty paste of Kraft Chocolate flavored malted milk and and a little milk in the bottom of a big glass. Fill the glass with chilled milk, stir it once more and there. A craft malted is mighty nourishing too because it's filled with all the food values in milk. Get a jar of craft chocolate flavored malted milk from your grocer and enjoy a craft malted off. I dedicate this program to the fight against crime. Not merely crimes of violence and crimes of dishonesty, but crimes of intolerance, discrimination and bad citizenship crimes against America. This episode from the Life of Sherlock Holmes will be transmitted to our men and women overseas by shortwave and through the worldwide facilities of the Armed Forces Radio Service. Petri Wine brings you Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce in the New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, the Petrie family. The family that took time to bring you good wine, invite you to listen to Dr. Watson tell us another exciting adventure he shared with his old friend, that master detective, Sherlock Holmes. And as for me, well, I'd like to tell you that a time like right now is the perfect time for a glass of Petri California port. After you've had a good dinner. Boy, Petri port is a real topper. That rich, deep red Petri port is really an extraordinary wine. Even its color is different. And as for its flavor, well, it'll take a better man than me to describe that. Petri port is a hearty wine. Sure. And every other quality that you look for in a good port you'll find in Petri port and then some. Try Petri port by itself or serve it with fruit, with nuts or with cake. But share it with your friends, will you, because you can serve it proudly. After all, it is a Petri wine. And that name, Petri, is the proudest name in the history of American wines. And now let's visit our old friend and host, Dr. Watson. Good evening, Mr. Bartell. Good evening, doctor. Settle yourself down and get your pipe going. Thanks. Doctor. Last week you told us that tonight's story took place in the Kasbah at Algiers. Yes, the Casbah. I remember it as the place of countless streets winding up and down past colorful cafes where a hundred tongues were spoken. And often a street would end in shadowy darkness which a man would be foolhardy to enter alone. Yes, Mr. Bartel, that was the Casper that Sherlock Holmes and I knew in that winter of 99. Well, how did you happen to be out there, Doctor? Do you mind if I tell you the story from the start, Mr. Bartel? It really began on a wintry night in Baker Street. At the conclusion of the strange murder in Montrevo Castle. A charming young girl sat on the sofa of our lodgings in Baker street and talked to us. But Mr. Hunt, you can't say you'll have nothing more to do with the murders. My dear Ms. Redfield, I found the true murderer of the Dowager Countess and he committed suicide. Surely the case has ended. Yes, Mr. Holmes, you found the real murderer. But now I want you to find the unfortunate young man who fled England five years ago when he was suspected of a crime. This is a new development, Ms. Steadfield. Please tell us about it. It's Douglas Milton that I'm talking about. Oh yes, yes, yes. He was the heir to the title, wasn't he? Yes, Mr. Holmes. He was a sensitive Artistic boy. And? And when he knew that he was under suspicion he ran away. Of course, everyone regarded his flight as an admission of guilt. That is until you found the real culprit, Mr. Holmes. I imagine, Ms. Tretfill, that your interest in the missing boy is not entirely, shall we say, altruistic. I'm in love with him, Dr. Watson. We were engaged to be married when he ran away. Mr. Holmes, you've got to find him. He must know that his name has been cleared and that he's inherited the title. Ms. Treadfield, have you any direct news, any letter from your fiance since he left five years ago? None. Any clues as to his hiding place? Only this. It's a painting I received anonymously a year after he had left. It was sent from a forwarding address in London. Here it is, Mr. Holmes. Thank you. Small oil painting. Very good one too, I say. Yes, the splendid sense of composition and his use of color is unusually brilliant. You recognize this painting as the work of your fiance, Ms. Streatfield? I'm certain of it, yes. Wonderful use of color. Observe the delicate shadings of that sunset and the brilliant green of the oasis. This scene is extraordinarily reminiscent of the desert in North Africa. Yes, yes, that's what made me say I was certain he'd gone abroad, Mr. Holmes. Why should he go to North Africa? A good place, Watson, for an Englishman who imagines himself to be escaping justice. Remember the Foreign Legion is stationed there. You think he might have joined the Legion, Mr. Holmes? Right would seem logical. No question to ask to those who join it. And its colorful obscurity might easily appeal to a young fellow in trouble. Hello. What is it, Holmes? Quite a few grains of sand in between the canvas and the frame here, Ms. Treadfield. Do you mind if I pry the canvas loose? Do anything you like, Mr. Holmes, if it gives you any clue to Douglas's whereabouts. Give me your pen knife, will you Watson? Thanks old chap. Wait a minute. Here we are. Can you see anything? Uh huh. Look. The word Sheriff and Elaphoon are stamped here. Sheriff is probably the framer's name and Elaphoon is the town some 50 miles from Algiers. That settles it, Ms. Streatfield. I accept your case. Watson and I will go to Africa and try to find your fiance. Douglas Milton. Monsieur Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. I have heard of you so often but I never thought I should see you here at the headquarters of the Foreign Legion. What can I do for you gentlemen? Well, Colonel Le Bresson, I'm trying To trace an Englishman who has been missing during the past four years. I have reason to believe that he might have joined the Legion. I shall look in my records. Let me see. Four years ago would be 1895. If Sher La Grange is tracking him then I suppose he was in trouble in his own country. If he was in trouble he might easily have come to us. We ask no questions. 97, 96. Ah, 95. In that year three young Englishmen joined us. One of them died of dysentery two years ago in Sidar AGI. One of them deserted 18 months ago and we have been unable to praise him. The turn is my adjutant who brought you into my office just now and he is, I would say, about 3 inches shorter than Douglas Milton. And men do not shrink in the Foreign Legion, eh Colonel? They do not Monsieur Holmes. And the fellow who deserted must be our man. Unless it's the one who died of dysentery. Colonel de Bresson, how would you advise us to set about trying to find a deserter? Monsieur Holmes? There's only one place in Algeria where a man can hide from the Foreign Legion and remain. Oh, and what's that place? The Casbah in Algiers. Then that's our destination. Watson. Be very careful. Please gentlemen. The Kasbah is a place where the law is exiled. The police have no jurisdiction there. The only rule is that of strength, violence and trickery. You shall be very cautious I assure you. Goodbye Colonel de Brisson and thank you for your help. Well I must say that I think Colonel de Brisson rather exaggerated the dangers of the Casper. I suppose you're going to tell me this cafe is the headquarters for a dope smuggling ring or white slaving or something. Its ramifications are even more extensive than those you've mentioned. You're joking Holmes. I assure you I'm not old fellow. My old friend Duamel is chief of police in Algiers. When I told him our mission he advised me to come here. A 500 franc note and the proprietor can obtain any and all information regarding the underworld. For as little as 200 francs he can arrange a murder. So that gives you some idea of the relative values in the Casbah. Good lord. Then you've already spoken to the proprietor? Oh yes, yes, a charming scoundrelly fellow by the name of Rafi. I gave him 500 francs and asked him to set his underworld grapevine in motion to see whether an Englishman living and hiding here in the Casbah could be found. And I thought we'd come here For a quiet meal. Here comes Rocky now. Let's hope he has news for us. Here we are, Rafi. Come sit down, won't you? Raffy works fast, does he not? Mr. Horns? Your friend. My friend knows that you're working with me. We'll be found out. A drink first. The tongue of Rafi is parched. Would you have me die of thirst before I give you my news? You have news for me then? But yes. Good. What is it? First you will pay me more money. No. But I gave you 500 francs. You said that you'd do the job for that. Can I help it if some tongues are more costly to make wag than others? It took the 500 to get the wag. Am I to have nothing for my own trouble? Ah, good, good. The gentleman will pay for it. There you are, missy. Missy. I will drink to your health, gentlemen. Both of you. You will pay me more money, no? If my friend's already given you 500, you should stick to your bargain. My good fellow. My information is a bargain at 750 francs. It would be a bargain at a thousand. But Rafi will let you have it for 750 because he likes you. You will give it to me. No. And if I refuse? Then you get no information. And perhaps I spread news in the Kasbah that makes it uncomfortable for you gentlemen to be there. Wait, Scott. This is blackmail. I get the money. No. You're a scoundrel, Rafi. Of course, Ms. Ca. Andrew. Here's your body. Your information. There is an Englishman hiding here in the Kasbah. I do not know his name, but he is tall and fair haired. I cannot tell you where he lives. But if you go to the Cafe of a Thousand sides, you will find a girl who sings there. A girl who sings like a nightingale. Her name is Aisha. And she can lead you to your Englishman. Girl named Aisha in a cafe of a thousand size. That is right. I would suggest that you go there in disguise. Two well dressed Englishmen might find themselves in trouble. For a small fee, say 200 francs. I will escort you. Thank you. Thank you. Yes, I think we can manage by ourselves, Rafi. Oh well, if your business is concluded quickly and time weighs heavy on your hands. Raffi can take you to some places of rare interest. Dancing girls that wither one's eyeballs with her beauty. For 500 francs, gentlemen. Thank you, Rafi. Thank you. I have a feeling the time will not weigh heavily on our hands. Good night. You work too hard, gentlemen. You should learn how to play Good night. On my soul, I think that fellow's the biggest blackguard I ever met. I quite agree, old chap, but he is amusing. By the way, Holmes, don't you think that when this case is finished we might have time on our hands? Oh, Watson, you're incorrigible. But I think. Watson. What is it? The man sitting over in the corner by himself. Jo. Yes. His face seems familiar. We've seen him before somewhere. Of course we have. His name is Oliver Leeming. We met him at the inquest on the Montrella case. So we did. Now what on earth do you suppose he's doing here in the castle? Not on the holiday, I'm sure. Mr. Oliver Leeming, if you recall, is a cousin of Douglas Milton's. The man we're searching for. If Milton were ever declared legally dead, Mr. Leeming over there would inherit the title. Looks to me as if we're not the only people in the Casper her searching for the missing heir. That's too old fellow. Come on, let's go and talk to the gentleman. Mr. Oliver Leeming. How very odd to meet you here. Well, well. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Won't you sit down? Thank you. World's a small place, isn't it? Or has somebody said that before? I wondered if you'd spot me over here on the corner. Oh, you saw, sir, of course. You seem to be in such deep conversation with that scoundrel Raffi. I didn't like to disturb you. Very considerate of you, I'm sure. Why are you here, Mr. Leeming? Oh, I'm making a business trip. This is my day off. As I recall it, you're in the publishing business, correct? What a memory you have. It seems peculiar that you should be on a business trip here. Are you planning on opening a publishing house in Algiers or are you searching the Casbah for new authors? Why not? I'm a great believer in encouraging new talent. Mr. Leeming, why don't you admit that you're here for the express purpose of trying to find your cousin, Douglas Milton? Mr. Holmes, you've discovered my secret. The great Sherlock Holmes and his watchdog have their eagle eyes on me. They know that I succeed to the title if Douglas milton dies. Yes, Mr. Leeming, we know that fact. And you have fathomed my plan to find Douglas before me and kill him so that I may inherit the title. How lucky I am to meet you in Mochasbah, where you cannot arrest me. Well, it's a race against time, gentlemen, but I have a head start as you will soon find out. Goodbye, and the best of luck to you. Extraordinary fellow. He's joking, of course. I believe not, Watson. I think he labors under the whimsical belief that the best method of discounting the truth is to state it as boldly so that it will not be believed. Great. Captain, we must work fast. Yes, old chap, we must. I'm sure that we're entranced in a race against death. We must get back to the hotel and into our disguises as quickly as possible. After that, we shall visit a young lady named Aisha on the Cafe of a Thousand Sighs. And I'm certain, Watson, that it will be the first time two men have ever entered the Casbah for the express purpose of preventing a murder. We'll hear the rest of Dr. Watson's story in just about a second. Which gives me time to remind you that if you like the flavor of big, plump, juicy Muscat grapes, you'll love the flavor of Petri. California muscatel. What a wine. Petri Muscatel is the perfect after dinner wine. It looks good, smells better than it looks. And when it comes to the taste department, well, you never tasted anything like it. For a really good wine, remember, First Petri, then muscatel. Petri. Muscatel. Well, Doctor, I can hardly wait to hear what happened next. You and Sherlock Holmes went back to the hotel, I suppose? Yes, Mr. Bartel. Holmes quickly adopted the disguise of an Arab guide, while I assumed the role of a tourist. And we started off on our search outside the Cafe of a Thousand Size. We met with a rude shock. Good Lord. It's the fellow we met in the cafe. Yes, Oliver Leeming. With a knife between his shoulders. He's dead, Holmes. Shouldn't we get in touch with the police? What can they do? Remember, there is no law on the Cow's Bath. In any case, this man is beyond our help. Our job is to protect the living. Come on, old fellow. Let's go to the Cafe of a Thousand Size and find this girl. Aisha. The girl Raffi says, sings like a nightingale. So that's the girl, Aisha. She. She's very beautiful. Now we get our role of tourist and guide, old chap. Master would wish to meet this Aisha very much indeed. I will see if it can be arranged, Master. Wait here for me, Watson. I'll see what I can do. Look. Right. Your homes. Be careful now, M. Aisha. What you want, greasy one? There is an Englishman at the table over there. He wishes to talk to Aisha. Which one is he, the man who sits at the table in the corner is very rich. Aisha you a great deal. He told me to give you this 500 frank note. So. Very well, you may bring him to my rooms. The door is at top of stairway to the right. Good Ayesha, I fetch him. I shall be waiting. Ayesha will see you master. Follow me please. Very well. I hope you know that you're going to handle this Combs. Don't worry Watson. In this case I think honesty will be the best policy. I'm not so sure. This place is a thieves kitchen if ever I saw one. You better be careful. First off to the right at the top of the stairs. This is it. Come in. Oh come and sit over here Mr. Englishman. Greasy one. You may leave us Mademoiselle. I may as well tell you at once that I am not an Arab guide. My name is Sherlock Holmes. What do you want with me? Why you trick your way in here? Don't be frightened mademoiselle. I can explain our mission in a very few words. My friend and I have come in search of an Englishman by the name of Douglas Milton. We have good news for him. What make you think I might know of him? A gentleman by the name of Raffi suggested that you might. What? What is your good news for this Englishman? That he has been cleared of suspicion of murder and that he is the rightful Earl of Montreva. That means when he knows this he will leave the Kasbah and return to his country. Naturally Madame, I do not know this man. I have never heard of him. Here is your 500 francs. Goodbye. Not so fast Ayesha Monticu. I've been listening from behind these curtains. Gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Douglas Milton. Douglas Milton. We found you at last. It gives me infinite pleasure to succeeded in my mission. How do you do sir? This is very exciting. Yes, I think the occasion calls for a drink. What will it be gentlemen? Well I think a glass of port would be very nice sir. Yes, it would be the most appropriate for toasting the new Earl of Vontreva. Splendid, splendid. Aisha, bring glasses and a bottle of port and some creme de mont for me. You are not going to England. I will never let you leave me. Oh stop being so melodramatic. Aisha, please bring two bottles and some glasses. Very well. I am sorry Mr. Holmes. I can't tell you how I appreciate your trouble in coming all this way to find me. But I must tell you at once. There's one problem that makes it difficult for Me? To leave this country. You see, I deserted from the Foreign Legion. Yes, yes, yes, we know that, my boy. In fact, that's how we first got onto your trail. I should let that fact worry you, Mr. Milton. I'm certain the British Consul in Algiers can arrange to have any charges dropped against a peer of the realm. Oh, well, I, I, I never thought of that. Here are the bottles. You must excuse the glasses, gentlemen. Tumblers are hardly correct, I suppose, but, well, they won't spoil the flavor, I'm sure. Two glasses of port and a creme de mouth. Me only three glasses. Aisha, bring a glass for yourself. I do not wish to drink. And I insist that you do. Bring a glass. Aisha. Why should I drink if you are leaving? Mr. Milton, do you know Oliver Leeming? Of course. He's my cousin. He came here half an hour ago and threatened me. Did you also know that he's lying dead in the street, murdered? Well, yes. Yes, I did. If we went in the Casva, I wouldn't tell you this, but Aisha stabbed him. She followed him when he left here, killed him, and then slipped back just in time to sing a song a few moments ago. Oh, you needn't look so shocked, Dr. Watson. Life is cheap in the Kospa and Aisha is a girl of violent passions. Come on, let's. Let's drink a toast to the new Earl of Montreba. Oh, excuse me, sir. You took the wrong glass. You were drinking my port. Silly mistake. I can't bear port. Very un English of me, I'm afraid. But, well, after all these years, I don't feel particularly English. In fact, I'll probably find it very hard to adjust myself to the old life when I go back. Or perhaps I should say if I go back, since you feel that way about it. Mr. Milton, why go? You can claim the title and the revenues of the estate without leaving Algeria. You could stay here and live on the income. I didn't realize that would be possible. You sure I could do that? Oh, yes, I'm quite certain of it. But if you doubt my word, I suggest we all adjourn to the British Consulate in Algiers. They can put you straight on the matter. That's a good idea. Let's go over there at once. Now, I have been listening to you, my friend. You are planning to leave me. Once you go from the Kasbah, I shall never see you again. Put down that knife I issue. I will not let you go. You belong to me. If you try to leave me now, I will Kill you. Put down that knife I issued. You've done enough damage for one night. Why are you. Put it down you fool. Put it. Let me go. Help. She twisted the knife on herself as she fell. Holmes. Help me turn her over. She's dead Mr. Milton. Poor Aisha. It's a bloody path that leads to the Montrevo title. Sir. I suggest that we see that this poor girl's body is taken care of then go to the British Consulate without any further delay. Now that we're at the consulate, Mr. Milton, I suggest that you swear on oath that you are Douglas Milton, heir to the Montrev estate. This gentleman is a commissioner of oaths and we can go in and see the consul. Very well. Now rise your right hand please and repeat after me. I hereby solemnly swear that I am Douglas Milton, the missing heir to the Montrevo estate. I hereby swear that I am Douglas Milton, missing heir to the Montrevo estate. Thank you sir. And now if you'll sign the statement here these gentlemen can witness it. There you are. Thank you sir. And now if you gentlemen will sign. Yes, certainly. Thank you gentlemen. The document is now legal. Splendid. Let's go over and see the consul. Not yet my friend. Watson. This man is not Douglas Milton. What the devil are you talking about? There is no law on the Kasbah sir, so you cannot be punished for the two murders you committed there. But now that your avarice has tempted you here to Algiers where you've been foolish enough to sign a false statement, I think we can at least settle you very nicely for desertion, false impersonation, forgery and perjury. Holmes, what do you mean? The story should be obvious old fellow. Oliver Leeming did track down the deserter. Recognition was uncertain after so many years but at least it gave this gentleman the idea of impersonating the real Douglas Milton, a friend of his. And you have a lively imagination Mr. Holmes. The real Douglas Milton died of dysentery two years ago in Cedar Reich. As soon as the idea of impersonating Milton was born, born Leeming had to die. Your theories are very interesting but you haven't a shred of proof. I say that I'm Douglas Milton, how are you going to prove otherwise? Very simply my dear sir. Douglas Milton was a painter. A painter who excelled in the use of vivid colors. You sir, suffer from the quite common malady of red green color blindness. Less than an hour ago you mistook a glass of port which is red for a glass of creme de month which is green. I knew at once that you were an impostor. You're cleverer than I thought you were, Holmes. Good bye. Here, here. Come back. No, no, Watson, don't go after him. But we can't let him escape, Holmes. Don't worry, old chap, he won't escape. I sent a message to Colonel de Bresson. If you go to the window, I think you'll find that the consulate is being watched. The Legion has a long memory for desertion. I don't think he'll get. They got him. Holmes shot him as he was trying to run away. A just death for him. He lived a life of violence and treachery, Watson. It's only fitting that he should die in the same manner. Doctor, that was a swell story. But you know something? I. I wish you hadn't disillusioned me about the Casbah. Disillusioned you? What do you mean? Well, before I heard your story, whenever somebody mentioned the Kasbah I'd always visualize a very glamorous, romantic sort of place full of beautiful women. Every one of them a ringer for Hedy Lamarr. No. Yep. And I could just see myself. Handsome, dashing, going up to one of those beautiful girls and whispering in my fine French accent. Darling, you are sensational. You are lovely, gorgeous. Tell me, have you ever tried Petri wine? It's wonderful. Well, you must admit, Doctor, that that is the truth. It is wonderful wine. It certainly ought to be. After all, winemaking has been the business of the Petrie family ever since way back in the 1800s. For generations the Petri family has handed down from father to son, from father to son, the fine art of turning luscious sunripened grapes into fragrant, delicious wine. And don't forget, because the making of Petri wine is a family affair. The letters P E T R I on a bottle of wine are the personal assurance of the Petri family that every drop of wine in that bottle is good wine. So no matter what type wine you prefer for any occasion, remember you can't go wrong with a Petri wine because Petri took time to bring you good wine. Well, Doctor, now I suppose you're ready to tell us about next week's story. Yes. And as soon as I have, I want you to meet a friend of mine. A friend? Yes. But first, Mr. Bartel, next week I'm going to tell you an adventure in which for once Holmes came off second best. An exciting story of high society and romance. I call it A Scandal in Bohemia. Boy, that sounds swell. And now what about your friend? Well, he's waiting at the microphone in San Francisco. He's Dr. Langley Porter, and he wants to tell us about something very important. Dr. Langley Porter. Thank you, Dr. Watson. Radio listeners, tonight in Italy there are thousands, many thousands, dying of cold and hunger. Babies, children, expectant mothers, old folks dying for want of clothes, want of food. This organization, American Relief for Italy, appeals to you to search your homes for anything that can be made useful for starving, freezing men, women, children, clothing, layettes for babies, diapers, shoes, food, surgical supplies, but above all, clothes, clean clothes fit to wear. Take them to the nearest fire station that your gifts will reach the Italians who need them. You may be sure Americans of this organization will distribute the packages in Italy through the Italian Red Cross, the Catholic Grief Organization, the League of Italian Women, the Confederation of Italian labor and the Italian government. In California, rationing has gone. Christmas comes. There in Italy, death is on the prowl. Radio listeners, lives can be saved. It's up to you. Thank you, Dr. Langley Porter. I know that our friends listening in will do all that they can to help the organization, American Relief for Italy. Tonight, Sherlock Holmes Adventure is written by Dennis Green and Anthony Boucher and was suggested by an incident in the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle story the Crooked Man. Music is by Dean Fossler. Mr. Rathbone appears through the courtesy of Metro Goldwyn Mayer and Mr. Bruce through the courtesy of Universal Pictures, where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System. Petri wine brings you Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce and the new adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The Petrie family, the family that took time to bring you good wine, invite you to listen to Dr. Watson tell us another exciting adventure he shared with his old friend, that master detective, Sherlock Holmes. You know, the lives of Holmes and Watson were not always filled with action. They spent many a quiet evening at home in Baker street discussing the problems of the world over a glass of port. You know, it seems that no wine is more expressive of friendship and hospitality than port. And I'm sure there's no port wine more enjoyable than Petri California port. Try a good glass of Petri port after dinner some evening or anytime you get together with your friends, you'll love the rich, ruby red color of that Petri port. You'll love its smoothness and full body. Its remarkable and wonderful flavor. A flavor that comes straight from the heart of luscious hand picked grapes. Serve that Petri port alone or serve it together with cake or cookies or with fruit. Yes, and serve it proudly. You Can. Because the name Petri is the proudest name in the history of American wine. And now I'm sure our old friend Dr. Watson's expecting us. Let's tap on his study door. Come in, come in, come in. Good evening, Doctor. Good evening, Mr. Bartel. Come over here by the fire. I was just having a cup of coffee. Would you care to join me? Thanks, that'd be nice. Prevent you falling asleep during my story tonight. There's no chance of that, Doctor. From the hints you gave us last week it sounded like quite a story. It began in a circus in Paris you told us. Yes, my boy, the circus. A colorful world of sawdust and spangles. A world, Mr. Bartel, that I may tell you confidentially, always held an irresistible fascination for me when I was a youngster. Me too, Doctor. You. In fact, when I was 8 years old I fell desperately in love with a lady bareback rider. A stunning creature who wore pink silk tights with gold sequins on them. Unfortunately, my mother caught me writing her proposal of marriage and I'm afraid that, well, that's another story. And one that you probably wouldn't find very interesting. I'm sure I would, Doctor, but I think it would be safer to stick to your Sherlock Holmes story. Probably right, my boy. Well, it was a winter in the 1890s and Holmes and I were in Paris. On our second day there, Holmes suggested we attend that night's performance of the Cirque Royale. Needless to remark, I was delighted, Mr. Bartel. And shortly after 9:00 clock that night I found myself seated besides Holmes in a box near the ringside. It was an incredibly vivid scene even for that city of color and light. The gay costumes of the women and the gaudy trappings of the ringmasters and clowns looked like a giant kaleidoscope under the blazing glare of the arc lamps. As we sat there, a brass band nearby blared forth some popular music of the day. And yet he didn't appear to be enjoying himself. And so I leaned across and touched his arm. Hmm. What is it, Watson? Well, you're very quiet, Holmes. Aren't you having a good time? A good time, I suppose, old chap. I was just wondering where Mr. Edwards is. Mr. Edwards? Who's he? An extremely distinguished client who was to meet us in this box at 9:00. Ah, client. This little excursion was on business after all. Yes, I might have known it. No worry, old fellow. In your case I think you'll be able to combine quite a little pleasure with the business. Well can't you be a little more explicit Holmes? Here comes the ringmaster. Mademoiselle Giselle Gironde. Yes, I've heard of her. She's a bareback rider isn't she? Honest in France, old fellow. She also has quite a reputation as a femme fatale. Three duels have been fought over her. A young English officer in the Grenadier Guards committed suicide last year because of her. And a famous French banker is at present languishing in prison because her extravagances drove him to appropriate funds that did not belong to him. Yes Watson, she's an extremely colorful personality. You know Holmes, the funny thing, when I was 8 years old I fell violently in love with a lady bareback rider. She wore pink silk tights with golden sequins on them, but unfortunate. Yes, she's off alone. Yes she is Holmes. She's exorcist. Look at the way she's jumping from the back of one horse to the other. Sheer poetry of motion. The lady appeals to you Watson? By George, yes indeed she does. In fact Holmes, I don't mind telling you, if I weren't a married man and a. You'd like to court the lady, eh? Yes I should. Oh excellent. That's the very reason for our attendance at the surface. What in heaven's name are you talking about, Holmes? Ah, there you are. Good evening Mr. Edwards. Oh Mr. My dear fellow, how are you? I haven't seen you since. Since that little affair at Windsor Castle when Mother. Excuse me Sir. I am Mr. Mycroft and this is my friend Sir William Nigel. Sir William Nigel, of course, of course. And I am Mr. Edwards. We must respect each other's incognitos, eh? How do you do Sir William? Well I'm extremely honored to meet you, your royal Mr. Edwards. How'd you like Giselle? Isn't she a stunning creature? Yes, indeed she is sir. The four of us to have supper together after the performance tonight. I understand Mr. Edwards. Well unfortunately I can't be there Mycroft. There's some stupid affair at the embassy which I have to attend. We must postpone the dinner until tomorrow night. Oh very well sir. Come over to my hotel a little early and we can discuss the whole business. Personally, I think a lot of fuss is being made about nothing. Now if you'll excuse me gentlemen, I must go back and see Giselle for a moment and tell her that I can't keep our appointment for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow Mycroft. Good night Sir William. Good night. Good night. Good night, sir. Holmes. What's all this mystery. That wasn't Mr. Edwards. It was the Prince of Watson. Please. Discretion, old fellow. Mr. Edwards, as you know, is extremely democratic. Too much so possibly when one considers his position and responsibilities. He's become quite seriously involved with Mademoiselle Giselle, the lady bareback rider who has just left the ring. Oh, so that's it. The Foreign Office, quite naturally I suppose, is deeply concerned over the matter. And I've been entrusted with the delicate mission of protecting Mr. Edwards. Giselle Girondin know that he's true identity. Do you suppose that's the first thing that we have to find out? It's possible that she is simply captivated by having a rich Englishman at her feet. If on other hand she knows who Mr. Edwards is, then we may be in for a great deal of trouble. But how are you going to find that out? By tempting her with a richer Englishman and one with a title. That, my dear fellow, is why you are Sir William Nigel. You mean that your job, old fellow, is to do your utmost to steal Giselle Girondet from Mr. Edwards? But. Well I. I don't even know the girl. We shall remedy that defect in a few minutes. As soon as the performance is over, my dear chap, I shall take you to her dressing room and arrange an introduction. I must say Holmes, the backstage life at a circus is even more colorful than in the ring. What makes you say that old fellow? Well, I just saw a pinhead having tea with a bearded lady while a sword swallower was standing behind him practicing his act. Oh, hello. See that man standing talking to the girl in tights? Yeah. Attractive, isn't he? The gentleman is Inspector Vernet of the French police. An old friend and a distant relative of mine. Vernet, how are you? Ah, old. Mon cher ami. Come on Vernet, please. On this occasion my name is Mycroft, if you don't mind. And this is my friend, Sir William Nigel. How do you do, Inspector? Enchante. Sir William, permit me to introduce Mademoiselle Yvette Marat. How you do? How do you do, Madame? How you do? What brings you behind the scenes at the circus, may I ask? Monsieur Mycroft, My friend Sir William is most anxious to meet the acquaintance of Mademoiselle Girondet. But of course, every man wishes to meet Giselle Gironde. Why not ask Vernet? He will present you to her. Ha. In other way. Oh now Ivecherie, do not begin that all over again. You are in love with her. You have always been in love with her. I wish she were dead. Sometimes I. Sometimes I think I could kill her myself. Upon my soul, Inspector. She's a fiery little thing, isn't she? Ah, se vresa, Sir William. Many times I've told her that Giselle Girondet would never waste her time with a simple police inspector. She prefers a wealthy foreigner. But Yvette, une comprem pas. She does not understand. And she does not believe Mademoiselle Marat was dressed in tights. Vernet. What does she do in the circus? She walks the tightrope. She is queen of the high wire. A charming and a talented girl. But the most, most jealous one. Vernet. My distinguished friend, Sir William Nigel is most anxious to meet Giselle Girondet. Will you introduce him? I should prefer not to appear in the matter at this stage. Oh, Monsieur Clenmont, I will take take you to her dressing room. Please come with me, Sir William. All right. I'll see you later, Holmes. I'll be waiting for you, old chap. Good luck. Hey, you're a lucky man, Sir William. Giselle has quite a penchant for the Englishman. And when they are rich and have a title, I am sure she finds them irresistible. You really think so? Poor? But of course. I tell the mage that I'm only a poor policeman. Here we are. Giselle. Monsieur, permit me to present to you Sir William Nigel. He is a great admirer of yours. Yes, indeed, madam. Ah, Sir William Nigel. Come and sit here beside me. Sir William. I shall leave you. Au revoir. Sit closer. There. That is much more cozy, no? It's very nice of you to see me, Mademoiselle Gironde. Oh, don't be so fond, former my Englishman. You may call me Giselle. And I shall call you. Let me see. I shall call you Sir William. Willie. I shall call you Willie. You do not mind? Delightful. Quite delightful. My dear. I was hoping perhaps that you can have a little. Little supper with me tonight, Giselle. So, what about some. Some oysters, a cold pheasant and a bottle or two of Pomerian Greeno 72. You get a taste rather well, don't you think? Oh, really? I can see you are a perfect horse. Oh, I don't know about that. One moment. I get my clock. Well, you know, Giselle, it's a funny thing. What? It's a funny thing, Willie. When I was eight years old, I fell violently in love with a lady bareback rider at a circus. History seems to be repeating itself here. Alfio Alfieri. Do you no longer knock when you come to my door? Who is this man? My name is Nigel, Sir William Nigel, my good man. And who, who may you be? I am Alfio Alfieri. I am Alfio Alfieri. And what is he? A trainer of wild animals? An ambushir Raton. You must not speak to Alf. You are not where you belong to me. Send this stupid Englishman away. Find it impudent. Crossier belong to you? Giselle belong to no one. Do I have to take my whip? Put it down you scoundrel. That's the time it will be your first face. Can't you final blackout. Raising your hand against a woman. Shocking. Mon has knocked him down. He certainly deserved it. And you in turn yourself something really. Oh, what was that? Come close Willie and I give it to you a little kiss. Oh kiss. Thanks awfully. Oh really, you're so strong. So resolute, so brave. Oh it was nothing my dear Giselle, nothing at all. Here, more champagne. Gossel, more champagne. Oh really Giselle, we. Monsieur Edwards, I have a box for the opera tomorrow night. I was hoping that perhaps. Oh I'm sorry monsieur, but my time is occupied. I am showing the delights of Monmouth to mon cher Willy. Mademoiselle et mu le collier de pere la sing grand he says. Which do I prefer? The five string color pearls or the three string color pearls? What does my Willie think? So that you can't hang many pearls on a pretty neck like yours. I'll take the five string collar my good fellow. You're doing splendidly Watson, splendidly. Yes but Holmes, I felt such a blasted fool handing that jeweler fellow a check signed by Sir William Nigel. You quite sure that it'll be honored? Don't worry old fellow, remember who our client is. Money is the least important concern in this matter. On with the masquerade old fellow. On with the masquerade. More champagne? Gasoline. You are such a headstrong boy. More champagne citadel. You little thing. Good evening Vernet. Has Mademoiselle Gironde come in for the evening performance here? Yes Ms. Your I escorted her to a dressing room half an hour ago. Mr. Edwards is in there with her now. At last. It seems she has used for a poor policeman. Last night she found a threatening letter on her makeup table. Since then she has been most grateful for my company. A threatening letter eh? Any idea who might have sent it? Oh yes, of course. I'm afraid I have Monsieur Holmes. I told her to pay no attention. By the perfume of the note paper I recognized the sender. A jealous tightrope walker called Yvette Marat. Oh, poor Yvette. She would make a very inferior criminal I'm afraid. Still, Giselle asked me to stay outside her dressing room till the performance starts. You wish to see her? Yes. Oh good evening Mr. Edward. Good evening Mycroft. Evening Inspector Vernet commence of Edwards. Look here Mycroft, I think this little game's gone far enough. Giselle has just refused another invitation of mine. Now I know who Sir William Nigel is and I swear I'll tell her. Don't you think sir that the lady is hardly worth bothering about? Surely this whole incident with Sir William proves that. That she's a scheming little adventuress. A fictitious title and an apparently bottomless purse have shown her up in her true colors. I could have told you the same thing without such an experiment my friends. Well I suppose you're right Mycroft. I've been a fool. An idiot who lets a pretty ankle turn his head. A conceited dope. Let us just say monsieur that you have been a man. Good evening sir. Good evening. Good evening. Just going back to see Giselle for a moment. I brought us these frank hours for her. I'll be back in a jiff. Just a minute Watson. I. I hate to dampen your ardor old chap but the masquerade is ended. Ended? What do you mean? It, it is no longer necessary for you to impersonate Sir William Nigel or to pay court to Giselle. Oh really? Oh, oh really, really. Well that's, that's a great relief sir, great relief. I've hated the whole business. Oh yes, yes I'm sure you have. We appreciate the sacrifices that you've made. Don't be sorry. Yes, yes indeed. Well I must go back and see her once more though. We had a rendezvous for tonight and I must cancel it. A gentlemanly thing to do. You know I, I won't be a minute. Never have I seen a man more downcast. Obviously with him, my dear Holmes, business was a pleasure. Alfieri, where are you going? That Englishman, I just saw him go into Gize's room. Whom are you referring? The man that call him sir William Nigel. 2 day ago he strike me I have to settle with him. No man may strike Alfieri. Do not cause any more trouble. Alfieri. From what I've been told you thoroughly deserved. What happened to you? Here he come now. You English. You Alfieri challenge you to a duel. Holmes. Holmes. What? No chap? What is it? You're as white as a ghost. It's. It's Giselle. What's wrong with her? She's dead. She's lying there in her dressing room. Strangled. Strangled. And only half an hour ago I spoke with her myself. Since then I've been standing in this corridor guarding her door at her own request. Only two men have entered Giselle's dressing room since then. You, Monsieur Edwards and you, Sir William Nigel. What are you suggesting, Vergenet? I am suggesting nothing. I am stating that these two gentlemen I want to arrest for suspicion of murder. Dr. Watson's unusual story will continue in just a few seconds. Time I'd like to take to remind you that one wine that seems to be the outstanding favorite among the ladies is Petri California Muscatel. That's probably because, like a beautiful woman, Petri muscatel is subtle and intriguing. Petri muscatel is the color of burnished gold. And its flavor, well, it's the flavor of big plump muscat grapes picked by hand carefully and tenderly when they're just full of wonderful delicious juice. If you want to show that you really know the wine that women prefer, serve Petri Muscatel. Serve it after dinner or later in the evening. It's wonderful. And why shouldn't it be? It's a petri wine. Well, Dr. Watson. So you and the mysterious Mr. Edwards got yourselves arrested on suspicion of murder? Yes, Mr. Bartel. Holmes did everything in his power to persuade Inspector Verney to release us, but it was useless. And so while Mr. Edwards and myself were languishing in detention cells at the local srete, Holmes and the French inspector were examining the dressing room of the dead woman. I'm. I'm sure Inspector Vermeil, that being as keen a detective as you are, you must suspect the true identity of Mr. Edwards. Of course, mon cher Holmes. But that is the danger of incognitos. If he chooses to assume the identity of play Monsieur Edwards, then he must run the risks of play. M. Edwards. And you are convinced that either he or my friend strangled Mademoiselle Gironde? It is obvious. Then I'll have to prove to you that they didn't let me examine the body again. If she had been strangled by either of my friends, why would her body be lying here under the window? It's as far away from the door by which they left this room as possible. That proves nothing. No, but it's odd. Giselle was a strong girl. There might easily have been a struggle. Perhaps she tried to get away through the window. And yet there are no marks of violence on her throat. Just this piece of very fine cord that did its deadly work. So Cleveland cut with a knife, please do not remove the cord, Monsieur Holmes. The body has not yet been photographed. Dear me, Vernet, you are making it very hard for me, aren't you? You notice of course that the window is open. Yes, but we have examined the snow outside. There were no footprints within 3 yards of the window. The murderer must have entered by the door that I was watching. Yes, it would be hard even for a professional acrobat to jump in. An acrobat? Bernay, your young friend, Mademoiselle Yvette Marat is a tightrope walker. Yvette? But yes, she certainly had a motive. She'd even sent a threatening letter. I heard her express hatred and jealousy for this dead woman. It's conceivable that she could enter a room by a window without leaving footprints in the snow. Where was she at the time of the murder? I do not know. I was waiting for her in the corridor. Then I suggest that we investigate her alibi at once. And after that, Inspector, I must pay a visit to the s. I don't want my friends to think that I've deserted them. Excuse me, sir. Yes, Holmes? I'm afraid it looks rather black. As I was telling you, Yvette Marat, the tightrope walker, was able to establish completely satisfactory alibi. Verne still suspects you or Dr. Watson. Well that's ridiculous. May I ask you a very straightforward question, sir? Of course. I can well understand that if you had gone into the dressing room and found the woman already murdered, you might easily be tempted to conceal the fact to avoid a scandal involving your person. Will you swear to me, sir, on your true identity that Giselle was alive when you left her? She was, Holmes, I swear it. Thank you, sir. That's all I wanted to know. Holmes, I'm glad to see you. You know I've been thinking. All this depends on Verne's evidence. But supposing he was a murderer? He told us his gazelle had turned him down. You know, I thought of that. But Mr. Edward swears that Giselle was alive when he left the room. And yet that means that Mr. Edward. Oh no, no, no, no, it's unfair. Holmes, you are not suggest. Holmes, if I thought that that were possible I'd confess to the murder myself. My life wouldn't matter if it had. Save a scandal like that. Great Scott, it'd shatter the empire. Dear old Watson, you shall not sacrifice yourself. You're as valuable a British institution as the lion himself. No my dear fellow, we shall never sacrifice you. Not while my mind is still capable of my mind that's it. Thank you, Watson. You've given me the answer, Holmes. What are you burbing about? Be patient, Dr. Lowe. In half an hour you'll be out of this cell and the real murderer will be in it. Questions, questions. Why must Alifieri answer so many questions? Because he will not yet tell the truth. You murdered Giselle Gironde. How many times I have her to tell you. I did not kill her. Why should I want to arm her? Because you were jealous. Because she humiliated and tormented you. But I was not in her dressing room. I've already proved that fact. Am I a magician that I can kill somebody without entering a room? Alfieri, I know how you killed Giselle Gironde without its necessitating your entering this room. You are a smart man. Please to tell me. I don't need to tell you. With the aid of Vernet, I'll show you. Open the window, Alfieri. What game is this? Very well then, I'll open the window myself. Put your head out. Come on. So, who do you see? Inspector Vernet standing three yards away where you stood. And he's got your long training whip. No, no, don't move. Stand there. The inspector hasn't your skill with a whip, but he wants to try a little experiment. I'm holding him. Well, Mr. Edwards, I mean. I mean. Well, sir, this is a pleasant change from a prison cell, isn't it? It certainly is, Holmes. I can't tell you how grateful I am. I still don't quite understand how you did it. Watson, in rather a roundabout way, was responsible for giving me the clue. Oh, how was that, huh? Well, on more than one occasion, old Japanese, I've had cause to deploy your rather florid style of writing. Tonight I was very thankful for it. When I began to speak of the capabilities of my mind, suddenly I remembered a phrase of yours in which you referred to its whip like rapidity and accuracy. That, of course, made me think of Alfieri, the animal trainer. Exactly how did he kill the poor girl? Well, sir, he stood outside the window, far enough away to leave no incriminating footprint. Called to Giselle, probably persuaded her to lean out, then snapped the whip around her neck, pulling it tight and strangling her. And then, I suppose he cut the cord and let the body fall back into the room. Precisely, old fellow. We found a whipstock among his tackle. A whipstock from which the lash had been cut. The stub of lash left matched the cord around the dead girl's throat. Amazing business. And I don't mind telling you fellows I'm very thankful to be through with it. Tis so, my so. In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if this whole incident cures me of my love of circuses. Oh, I didn't know you had a predilection in that direction, Watson. Oh yes sir, yes. If you don't mind my saying so, when he was 8 years old he fell in love with a lady bareback rider. Didn't you once? Indeed. What happened? Well sir, I don't remember her name, but she wore pink silk tights with golden sequins on them and I wrote her a rather hot headed letter. Unfortunately my mother. Well doctor, that was one of the most unusual stories you've ever told. Told. And, and I might say you played a very prominent part in that case yourself. I suppose I did that, Mr. Bartel. Giselle was a beautiful girl. Beautiful boy. I sure love that nickname she gave you. Wheelie. Yes, I thought rather nice myself. Well that is, I, I, I mean. Don't get embarrassed over a nickname, Doctor. You should hear the nickname I had when I went to school. All the girls called me Bottles. Bottles? Oh, oh I see. From Botto. Bottle. Bottle. Some nickname like a prophecy. What do you mean? Well, they called me Bottles and now that's what I like to talk about most. Bottles. Bottles of Petri wine. Oh, I should have known. And I'd like to talk about Petri wine because as far as I'm concerned it's the swellest wine that ever poured from a bottle. That's because the Petri family really knows how to make good wine. Well they ought to. They've been making good wine ever since they started the Petri business way back in the 1800s. And since the Petrie family has always personally owned and operated their business, they've been able to keep that fine art of winemaking right in the family, handing it on down from father to son, from father to son, from generation to generation. So it's no wonder whenever you want a good wine you want a Petri wine because Petri took time to bring you good wine. Well, Dr. Watson, what new Sherlock Holmes story are you going to tell us about next week? Well now, next week, Mr. Bartel, I'm going to tell you of a strange adventure that Holmes and I had in the swampy fenlands of Norfolk. Concerns a gypsy encampment, a child that vanished and a horrible death in the murky depths of a fearsome quagmire. Tonight's Sherlock Holmes adventure was written by Dennis Green and Anthony Boucher and was suggested by an incident in the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle story, the adventure of the three students. Music is by Dean Fossler. Mr. Rathbone appears through the courtesy of Metro Goldwyn Mayer and Mr. Bruce through the grand courtesy of Universal Pictures, where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series. The Petri Wine Company of San Francisco, California invites you to tune in again next week, same time, same station. Sherlock Holmes comes to you from our Hollywood studios. This is Harry Bartel saying good night for the Petrie family for a solid hour of exciting mystery dramas. Listen every Monday on most of these Same stations at 8 o' clock to Michael Shane, followed immediately by Sherlock Holmes. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System. Petri wine brings you Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce and the new adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The Petri family, the family that took time to bring you good wine, invite you to listen to Dr. Watson tell us another exciting story about his old friend, that master detective, Sherlock Holmes. As for me, instead of telling you something, I'd like to ask you something. Do you like chicken? How do you like it best? Roasted, fried or in a stew with dumplings? Well, whatever your favorite may be, you like that chicken infinitely better when it's served with a glass. Petri California Sauter. And now there's a combination, chicken and Petri Sauter. Petri Sauternes is a white wine, pale golden in color, delicately fragrant and clear as crystal. And what a flavor that Petri Sauterne has. I'm telling you, Petri Sauterne is just about the last word in dinner wine. One more tip. Remember to serve Petri Sauternes with fish or any kind of seafood. Good. It's great to be sure you have a glass of good wine. Be sure it's Petri wine. And now I'm sure our good friend Dr. Watson's expecting us. Let's go and enjoy it. Good evening, Doctor. Good evening, Mr. Bartel. Punctual to the minutes as usual. Drop a chair and settle down, my boy. Well, I won't settle down too far, Doctor. You have habit of keeping me on the edge of my chair during most of your story. Just it should be, Mr. Bartel. I hope tonight will prove no exception. So light up your pipe and I'll get on with my story. Doctor, from the hints you gave us last week, it sounded like quite a thriller. How did it begin? On a cold Winter morning in 1897, Holmes and I, our breakfast concluded, sat on either side of a cherry fire in our Baker street lodging. A thick fog rolled down between the line of Dun colored houses and the opposite windows loomed like dark shapeless blurs through the heavy yellow wreath. Another London pea. Super Hunt. Exactly, Mr. Barker. Our gas was lit and shone its flickering light on the white cloth and glimmer of china, for the breakfast table had not been cleared. Holmes was busy cost indexing his record of crime while I was engrossed in one of Clark Russell's fine sea stories. Our morning was not destined, however, to be a quiet one. Shortly after 11 o' clock, Mrs. Hudson ushered a young lady into our room. A young lady who seems to be in serious shock. Huts. Sit down, young lady. I'm Dr. Watson and this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes. How do you do, gentlemen? I must apologize for not giving my name to your housekeeper, but I have to be so careful. You require a stir, my dear. Of course you're wondering who I am and what's brought me here. My own theory would be that you are Ms. Harriet Irving and that you've come to me to enlist my aid in proving that Mr. Binion did not murder your father. Holmes, what on earth are you talking about? You're absolutely correct, Mr. Holmes, but how did you know I did use it? Ms. Irving, you're wearing very new and extremely expensive mourning, presumably the first time since a few basting threads are still in evidence. You wear no rings, so evidently you're not in mourning for a husband. The only man whose death the papers announced in the past few days who left a young daughter wealthy enough to purchase such garments is Sir Edward Irving. And since the police have already made an arrest, obviously wish me to disprove the police theory and intercede for young minion. Mr. Holmes, you're wonderful. That's just what I wanted to do. You will, won't you, Ms. Evan, I've studied the newspaper reports very carefully. It would seem to me that Scotland Yard has arrested the right man. I'm a little sorry, but I didn't read the newspaper reports. I'm the famous idea which you're both talking about. Then let me bring you up to the and please correct me, Ms. Urban, if I make any mistakes. 3 days ago Sir Edward Irvin, the father of this young lady, was found stabbed to death in his study. The only entrance to the study is through an anteroom where his secretary had been sitting ever since Sir Edward was last seen alive. And the secretary swore that no one had entered or left the study. Sector's name being Binion, I suppose. Yes. Under the circumstances it's hard to see that any other arrest was possible. And yet I know he's innocent, Mr. Holmes. How do you know that, Ms. Owen? We were in love. We were going to be married. I don't care what the police say, a woman knows these things. Robert Binion did not kill my father. Did your father approve of the engagement? Well, no, not exactly. If one were to be exact, Ms. Evan, wouldn't one say that your father absolutely forbade the marriage? Yes, he did. And in secular Strahd assumed death was the motive for the murder. Well, sounds logical, I must say. Does your father have any other relatives living, Ms. Irving? His brother, my uncle Peregrine. He lives a hermit's life in the country. We've seen very little of him in the last few years. Was he left anything under your father's will? No, I was the sole beneficiary. Please help me, Mr. Holmes. If you'll just talk to Robert, you'll know he's not guilty. Oh, there's no harm in talking to him, Holmes. After all, our old friend Lestrade handled the case and he's made a good many mistakes in the past. It happened. We all know Japs. Well, Miss, I'll do what I can, but I promise nothing let you go. Where is your fiance being held at Scotland Yard. I talked to him there just before I came to you. Scotland Yard, eh? Splendid. We can talk to STR at the same time. Watson, your hat. My hat and coat. Precisely, old fellow, your hat and coat. So Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson think they know more than the Yard, eh? Come over here to teach us our business I suppose. Nothing of the sort of start. We came over here to make a few inquiries. I tell you gentlemen that you're wasting your time. Young Binion is guilty, whatever his young lady may say. The stride. Yes, mister. What did the autopsy prove? Got a report of it here on my desk, but it won't tell you nothing you don't know. Death was instantaneous, caused by some weapon like a long needle, a fine stiletto or an ice pick penetrating the brain at the base of the skull. And no such weapon was found in the room or on Mr. Binion? True, sir, but then he had the chance of disposing of it just the same. The murder weapon hasn't been found, has it? No, Doctor, but we'll find it, don't you worry about that. I should like to talk to the prisoner, if you don't mind. Well of course I don't mind. He's in the detention cell just down the corridors from here. Follow me, gentlemen. Has he given you any trouble, Lestrade? Trouble if all our prisoners were as quiet as him, we wouldn't need no guards. Doctor. Nice quiet young fellow. Hard to realize he's a murderer. A fact that still has to be proven in court, Lestrade. A fact that is going to be proved in court. Mr. Holmes. Well, here we are at this so you've got visitors, Ben. Very distinguished visitors, gentlemen. My name is Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. And this is my colleague, Dr. Watson. I'm sorry to see you in this sight, Mr. Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then Harriet did see you when she left you. I'm so glad. You'll get me out of this, miss, I know you will. Even Mr. Sherlock Holmes can't get you out of this one. Young. I promised your fiance that I'd try and help you. My obvious course is to go to Sir Edward's house and examine the room in which the tragedy occurred. But before I do that, I'd like to ask you a question or two. Ask me any question you want to, sir. It was you who discovered the body. I understand. Yes, Mr. Holmes. Please describe the circumstances. Sir Edward was in his study. I'd been working in the anteroom adjoining. At five o' clock I went in to say goodnight to him and I found him slumped in his chair, dead, with blood streaming down the back of his head. Of course I sent the butler for the police at once. Could anyone have entered that room without your knowledge? No, Mr. Holmes. I never left my desk and there was no entrance to the room save through my office. How about the windows in Sedentary? They were locked from the inside, Doctor. Oh, you don't need to worry. We examine the ledges. Not a mark. No one came in that way. What is your theory of the murder, Ms. Binham? I haven't won, Mr. Huttons. I'm completely baffled. I'm certain that no one entered that room yet I swear to you that I didn't stab him. I can understand a police believing I did. Lestrade, I should like to examine the room in which Sir Edward was buried. Easiest thing in the world, Mr. Holmes. I'll drive over with you if you like. He's out his enigma. Oh, you needn't bother, Lestrade. We can quite well go by ourselves. You're not a bit of a doctor. I'd like to come with you. Oh, why lestrade? You're convinced Mr. Binion is guilty, are you? Won't you. Won't you be wasting time? Not me. For once I know you're on the wrong side of a case, Mr. Holmes, and I want to be there and see your faces when you find it out. This is the house, Mr. Holmes. Imposing looking place I must say. I imagine Lester, that you still have a police guard inside. Oh yes Doctor, there's been a sergeant guarding the dead man's room day and night. We still haven't found the missing weapon, you know. Yes gentlemen, I'm Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard. We wish to examine the house. I must see your identification, sir. What are you talking about? I've been in and out of this house half a dozen times. I have my orders, sir. Oh very well. Is Ms. Irvine at home? Miss Irvine is not receiving, sir. Scott, man, can't you give us any information? There's been tragedy in this house, sir, and the truth of it's not forget I'm not answering any questions. But I don't have to. Yes. There. Now does this police card satisfy you, Inspector Lestrade? Very good, Inspector. You may come in. May I direct you gentlemen? Oh thank you. I know this house nearly as well as you do. I think not, Inspector. I've served here for 27 years. Gentlemen, if you're not needing me, return to my quarters. Bless myself, that's a sinister looking chap if I ever saw one. Yes, and you know something? You see Lestrade, there is a possibility that Binion is innocent. Yes sir. I began to see that sir when you were talking to the butler. You're being very cryptic. What other possibility are you talking about? The possibility that Binion, the arrested man, is shielding the real murderer. And whom would he be most certain to shield? You mean his fiance, Ms. Irwin? That's right, old fellow. What? Here we are. This is the anteroom where young Bean worked. And that door there leads into the study where Sir Edward was found. I've been touched with us since the discovery of the crime. Oh no, Mr. Holmes. That's why we've had a constable on duty in there night and day. Before the trial we're bringing experts in to test the room for secret panels or anything of that kind. Let's examine the dead man's room, shall we? Right here, Ms. Stolmes. Webster. Webster, get out of that chair and stand up, can't you? You're on duty. Asleep, Dotty? He's dead? Yes, the trickle of blood oozing out from the base of his skull. Well strike me pink. He's being killed the same way as Sir Edward was. I presume you'll agree that Mr. Binion didn't commit this murder, Lestrade? Of course not, Mr. Holmes. He couldn't have done it. He's locked up at the yard. Well what are we going to do? Ask the butler to come here will you? All right you are sir. What do you make of their wound Doctor? Fit the description of the one that killed Sir Edward. There's a fine puncture here at the base of the skull. Thank you Holmes. They mentioned a stiletto on ice pick. A wound like this might be caused by one of those long steel hat pins that. But women were. Yes, it's a possibility Watson, a distinct possibility. And Ms. Irvine was wearing a long hat pin this morning if you remember. Glass walls, a little chance of secret panels here I should say. The window popped from the inside. Huh. Here he is, Ms. Rome. Yes. And by the way, what's your name? You see what's happened, Trevor? Yes sir, I see. The constable's been killed just like my master. Now tell me Trevor, is this room exactly as it was in Sir Edward's lifetime? Yes sir. Except that my master was not in the habit of keeping the corpses of policemen in here. Don't try to be funny Travers. Don't you realize you're mixed up in a murder case? I meant no offense gentlemen. The point of my question Travers was to find out if any of the furniture in here had been moved lately. Not moved sir, but there has been a piece of furniture added. That armchair. The dead man lying in. The same chair in which Sir Edwards body was found. Of course that's the answer the when was that chair delivered and who delivered it? It was delivered the day before Sir Edward died. It came from Silver Schwartz's and Pete shop in bonds. That game's a foot leave the removal of this poor man's body. Seal the room. And for heaven's sake keep this latest death a secret for a day at least. Within that time I hope to have your murderer for you. Then we're going my dear chap, to Silver Schwantz's antique shop in Bond Street. Those old music boxes are quite charming Holmes, aren't they? Yes, but where's Mr. Silber? Schwantz? This is probably him. What a fine looking old fellow. Oh Mr. S once. Yes gentlemen you are interested in musical nosa in chairs. Particularly in the handsomely carved chair you delivered to Sir Edward Irvine a few days ago. Ah yeah. A magnificent specimen. His teeth is it? He was found dead in it Mr. Siltran. And half an hour ago someone else was found dead in it also. That chair was one of a pair wasn't it? Yes. Fully forgotten him of that's impossible. Please, please do follow me. I. I will show you. He's not perched. Look. Look at the chair. Exactly like the same one as Sir Edward's house, my friend. But there's such a difference. Fifteenth century Italian, isn't it? Yeah. This is one of a pair of the famous Manipiero armchairs. There are only three pairs in the world, my friends, of this pair. One, the one I delivered to Sir Edward, is simply a great specimen of the carver's art. This one it's made. Looks exactly like it, does it not? I can't see any difference myself. You would have you sat in it, old chap. Precisely. That is why I have these cords stretched from one arm of the chair to the other. If anyone were to. To sit in it. Well, sometimes nothing will happen, but sooner or later, a hand will press this hidden spring in the arm here, and death will strike. But nothing happened when you pressed the spring then, Mr. Silchrons. No, I. I don't understand. I do. This is the harmless chair. The lethal one was sent to Sir Edward. He sat in it, accidentally oppressed the spring and drove the fatal needle into his brain. Just as that poor constable did today. Sir Edward bought both chairs, I presume? Yeah. I would not sell it separately. Then why didn't you deliver both at the same time? He was afraid of dead liver. He asked me to keep it here until he found a safe place for it in his home. And some devil switched the arm cord from the fatal chair to the harmless one so that you deliver death to Sir Edward. There is a subtlety in this crime worthy of the fiendish maker of the chairs himself. So this once. Didn't Malapieri die of being tricked into seating himself in one of his own chairs? Yeah. Yeah, he did. Ah, Poet justice. I'm much obliged to you, Silver Schwartz. Now, I think I know how to trap our killer. Dr. Watson will bring you the rest of his story in just a second. So I'm just going to tell you that after a good dinner, there's nothing quite like a glass of good Petri. California port. Petri Port is really a wonderful wine. A deep, hearty red in color and rich and truly delicious in flavor. You know, port wine is actually America's favorite wine. Try a glass of Petri Port and you'll know why. Petri port is not only fine after dinner, it's perfect whenever good friends get together. Just keep in mind the name Petri. Because pet wines are good wine. Well, Dr. Watson, this is quite a story you're telling us tonight. So you found out how the murders had been committed but not who'd been responsible for it. That's quite right, Mr. Bartel. Holmes spent a long time cross examining Mr. Silverswantz, the owner of the antique store, as to who might have had the opportunity of switching the telltale cord from the fatal chair. And who did have that opportunity. It turns out that four people might have been responsible, said what's daughter. The secretary, Mr. Binion had both been in the shop with him at various times. So at the butler Trevors, the fourth suspect was Edward's eccentric brother Peregrine, who it appeared had dropped into the shop the day after the purchase had been made. For this last information Holmes became very excited and launched into eager preparations which ended a few hours later when we found ourselves disguised as furniture removers driving a van along a quiet country lane near Dorking. As we approached the house of Sir Edward's brother Peregrine. There's the house, Watson. Ramshackle looking place, isn't it? Yes, extremely. Why are you so morose? My dear chap, If I've just spoken a word on, I'll drive down here. Never tell me anything. Why are we trundling off into the wilds of the country to see guys of furniture removers carrying the harmless chair with us? Surely the reason is transparent, old chapter. It's just about as transparent as gosh stocking full of hot pipe. Surely it's obvious that we're up against an extremely cunning murderer. Now what advantage accrues to him in using the mallet yellow chair? An alibi, of course. He's nowhere near the place where the murder happens. Rightly apply your logic a little further. Three suspects, the daughter, Mr. Binion and Ferrers the butler live in the house and would almost certainly have been present at the time of death. Therefore, who gains most by such an alibi? Well, the brother Peregrine. Elementary my dear Watson. Now you see why we trundled off into the wilds of Dorking. That must be Peregrine standing up at the porch. He's a funny looking fellow. Oh my lead Watson. Good afternoon, Governor. You fellows must have come to the wrong house. You were Mr. Petty Grind Irvine, ain't you Governor? Yeah, and we cut the right ass. All right, all right, all right. Come on buddy, give us a hand. Right you are. Our feet. What the devil. Unloading an arm. You drop it on my foot, buddy. Look out. Easy does it. Come on Bert. I got it. Easy now. On the porch here. There you go. Give me crickets. I had a pretty chair, governor. 30 and me was admiring it on the way down here. Cool. Blame it off a nice chair. But who told you to bring it here? Orders, Governor. Mr. Silver Snitch. What? Whatever his name is, tell us Your brother didn't want the chair and said as our we was to bring it to you. But my brother said Mr. Silver Snitch said he. He gave the order before he died. Why don't I sit down, Andy, Governor? Of course not, of course not. Cool. Lummy bit of all right, isn't it? Look at him laughing. Who wish me old trouble and strife could see me now. Yeah, yeah, trouble in stride. That's me wife, Governor. Here, sit down yourself, sir. Come on, Go on, sit down tight. Go on, Go on, Governor, take the weight off your plates of meat. What barbaric jargon do you speak? What on earth are plates of meat? Plates of meat is feet, Governor. That's rhyming slang. That's right, that's right, rhyming slang. Go on, sit down in it. Go on. I'd pay. Well, ain't that comfortable? Yeah, go on, run your aunt over the arms. Governor Carbon please. I need your stucking. Yeah, yeah, yes it is, but. But I don't want the wretched thing. It means a mistake. So you'd better take it back to London and tell them to sell it up. I don't want anything of my brother. Jumping Geos a bit fancy. We don't want to sit in a nice chair like this, Governor. But you're the one that's giving the order around here. Come on, buddy, come on, get your back into it. All right, let's go back in the van. All right, come on. You're happy away to go. Oh, bless you, our Governor. We don't worry about that sort of thing, do we, Birdie? Of course not, Alfie. We had a nice driving the company anyhow, didn't we? That's right. Nice. Get these old horses going. Good day, Governor. Good day. Good. That was a false trail, Holmes. Obviously he knew nothing about the chair. He thought it was perfectly harmless. And indeed it was, that the murderer were the prodded people. I've slipped up in my reasoning somehow. Oh, but of course. Oh, what a fool I am. We may get back to London as fast as these tired nags can take us. Come on, get up there. Get up. What's the next move, Holmes? Edward's house and the staging of a little drama, I'm sure will give us the final answer to this problem. Made all the arrangements. The Strand. Yes, Mr. Holmes. I've got Ms. Irving, young Binion and the butler waiting outside and no one knows we switched the chairs. Splendid. You are sure that this is the harmless chair? Of course I am. Look here, I sit in it, so run my hands over the arms. Yes, this chair is harmless as every person save one will know. Show them in the straw all at once, Mr. Holmes. No, I think we'll fix Irvin and Mr. Binion first. Right. Charles Irvin. Mr. Binion, come in, please. Very well. Oh, Mr. Holmes. What's the matter? Ms. Irving? It's just so horrible seeing you there in the same chair as your father, Mr. Holmes, it's a trifle too macabre. Before you assume the position of the corpse, please get up. But it seems to be the most comfortable chair in the room and I do like my comfort when I interrogate witnesses. However, it's hardly chivalrous, is it? Ms. Irving? Please sit down, won't you? I, I, I don't like to sit down in the chair in which father died. Oh, Ms. Irvin, he couldn't bear to see you standing. Very well then. Don't sit down, Harry. Why not? Vinyon? What's the matter? Isn't the chair safe? No, no. Perhaps you care to sit in it to prove that the chair is safe? No, no, I. Sit down. Very well. There. Splendid. Curious chair, isn't it, Mr. Binion, I wonder about these carvings on the arms. They look almost as if they might activate concealed springs. I wonder what would happen if I. No. For heaven's sakes, Mr. Holmes, you're trying to kill me. Kill you? Then you know House Edward and the policeman were murdered, eh? I, I knew it must have something to do with the chair. You knew more than that, Robert. You planned it. I remember now that when we went to the shop. Did you? No, no, no, Watson, don't go after them. The Strad will stop him. In any case, the police are at the door. Oh, I'm tired. I think I'll sit in this rather faithful armchair. So it was young Binion all the time, huh? Yes, and he all but outsmarted me. I reasoned that somehow the murderer must have intended the device of this chair to clear him. And suddenly I saw the real motivation. How better establishes in innocence than seeming to be obviously guilty. And yet leaving a trail whereby an astute deduction would seem to cure him. His idea that Mr. Irving came to you, he used you as a, as a cat's boy. That's right, Watson. I'm afraid this whole case is a rather humiliating experience. For me? Why do you think the Scarred had arrested the right man in the first place? Oh, my dear Watson, I shall never hear the end of this. Never. As usual, Doctor, that was a swell story. Imagine Lestrade accidentally arresting the right man. Well, he had that one coming to him. Poor fellow. He'd been outwitted by Holmes so many times he was beginning to get an inferiority company. What about Ms. Irvin? How did she take it when her boyfriend Benion, has proved guilty? Well, when she realized that her sweetheart had actually murdered her father, as they say in the penny thrillers, her love turned to hate. But at first she took it pretty badly. I could imagine so, Mr. Bartell. My boy, that's one of the disadvantages of being a detective. When you bring the guilty to justice, you very often cause the innocent to suffer, too. Believe me, never become a detective. Stick to being a wine expert. You calling me a wine expert? Now wait a minute, Doctor. All I know about wine is that it either tastes good or it doesn't. And I know that Petri wine always does taste good. And I know why, too. It's because the Petri family has been making wine for generations. The art of turning luscious, sunripened grapes into fragrant, delicious wine is their heritage. A heritage handed down within Petry family from father to son. From father to son. What particular type wine you prefer is, of course, a matter of your personal taste. But let me assure you of this, whatever type wine you desire for any occasion, you can depend on any wine that bears the Petri label. Petri took time to bring you good wine, and today that name, Petri, is the proudest name in the long history of America's wine. Well, Dr. Watson, what new Sherlock Holmes adventure are you planning to tell us next week? Next week? Just about till now. Let me see. Next week. Next week I'm going to tell you a strange story that took place in one of the smaller states of middle Europe. Concerns a young prince, a most unusual concert, and a beautiful contralto who sang two days after we'd seen her die at the hands of the firing squad. I call the story the Haunting of Sherlock Holmes. Doctor, that's one I've got to listen to. Yes, Mr. Bartel, and everyone should also listen to what Secretary of Agriculture Anderson says about saving used kitchen fats. We've all got to keep turning in every bit of used fat. Take it to your meat dealer. The shortage of fat is worse now than ever it was. And unless we help, and we all help, you'll all be faced With a serious shortage of soap. Yes, A serious shortage of paint, lubricating oils, drugs and many other things that acquire fats in their manufacture. It's up to us. Keep turning in every bit of used kitchen fat. Tonight's Sherlock Holmes Adventure was written by Dennis Green and Anthony Alger and was suggested by an incident in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story, the Musgrove Ritual. Music is by Dean Fox. Mr. Rathbone appears through the courtesy of Metro Goldwyn mayor and Mr. Bruce through the courtesy of Universal Pictures, where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series. The Petri Wine Company of San Francisco, California, invite you to tune in again next week, same time, same station. Sherlock Holmes comes to you from our Hollywood studio. This is Harry Bartel saying good night for the Petri family for a solid hour of exciting mystery dramas. Listen every Monday on most of these Same stations at 8 o' clock to Michael Shane, followed immediately by Sherlock Holmes. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System. There's a Better Things for Better. Living Through Chemistry presents the Cavalcade of America. Tonight's star, Basil Rathbone. Good evening, everyone. This is Bill Hamilton bringing you greetings from the men and women of the Dupont Company as the Cavalcade of America starts its 16th season. In our story tonight, Basil Rathbone appears as John Adams, attorney for the defense, in one of the most famous murder trials in our history. Order, please. The clerk will continue. It is here charged with the aforesaid defendants, eight in number, and soldiers of the Crown, not having the fear of God before their eyes, but being moved and seduced by the instigation of the devil, and their own wicked hearts did on the fifth day of March, with force and arms, feloniously, willfully and of their malice aforethought, do unto death the aforesaid five citizens of Boston town. The prisoners have heard the indictment. How do they plead? God sends you good deliverance. Let the trial proceed. The story of this famous American murder trial is told by the attorney for the defense. For it is his story, too. His name, John Adams. That same John Adams who was one day to become the second President of the United States. They were innocent under the law, those eight British soldiers. And I knew it. Yet to plead their cause in the year 1770 was the most difficult task I ever undertook. I think the story might well begin on an early summer evening, two years before the trial. Abigail and I had a guest for dinner at our house in Brattle Street, Boston. My closest friend, Jonathan Sewell. Excellent wine, John. Excellent. Where did he get it? Abbey Some of John Hancock's contraband. Treasure the wine of liberty. Now, Mr. Sewell, no politics, please. Oh, nonsense, my dear Abby. I may be a king's man, I am a Tory and I glory in it. But my political convictions do not extend to smuggled Madeira in a vintage so fine I'll drink to either party. I wish I could view our present trouble so lightly, Jonathan. Oh, John. John, my friend. When will you ever learn to unbend a little? Can't you teach him, Abigail? I'd not care to try, Mrs. Hu. I'd not want to try, sis. Perhaps I can make the attempt. We'll see. I have news for you, John. Yes, I thought you might by the gleam in your eye. Abby, would you mind? I'm about to see to the children. John. Good night, Mr. Sewell. Good night, dear lady. You'll kiss little Abby good night for me and John Quincy too? Oh, yes, indeed. Well, John? Well, Jonathan, I won't beat about the bush, my old friend. I've been sent by Governor Bernard to offer you the post of Advocate General in the King's Admiralty Court of Massachusetts. Now, now, now. Don't bridle and draw back like an offended maiden. It means your fortune is made, man. It means I should sit in judgment on my friends who have avoided the King's tax and grow rich upon their substance. It means new friends, John. Friends who have the ear of the King himself. Who are your precious friends now? These so called sons of liberty. Penniless adventurers. John Hancock, James Otis. Dr. Warren. Ben Eddies of the Gazette. My cousin Samuel. Some of the most substantial men in our colony. No. Sam Adams is a dockside demagogue. A tattered ne' er do well, a troublemaker. Jonathan, you too are my friend. I have none closer or more, dear. So you must have known my answer would be no. I cannot change my political principles. But His Excellency mentioned that point to me most especially. He desired me to say that your political sentiments will be. No objection. No objection whatever. He offers you the post merely because you are the best qualified. It was a bribe and I knew it. An attempt to break the ranks of the royal governor's opponents. But I couldn't accuse my old friend of trying to bribe me. Or of supposing I could be bribed. We talked late and long. He made me promise to consult my wife. When he had gone, I found Abby waiting at our bedroom window. I told her and she said, yes, John, it is a bribe. Of course it is. A high bribe. A good price, easy to take. Good. Then more would follow. You could be Chief Justice, Sir John Adams. The court party fears my husband. Do you want me to take the post? My dear John, are you testing me? You know that isn't necessary. Just as I know you'll always refuse such offers. Oh, my friend, my partner. They say you're an ambitious man. Is it not something of a satisfaction to be so feared by the powerful? It is. It is indeed. And beloved by such a wise and lovely lady as well. There's the gift no king could offer. My Jonathan was wrong. You can unbend on the proper occasion. Listen. The watchman must be very late. All is well. But a storm is brewing in Boston town. A blow to put the stars out. Somehow, Abby, somehow I'm afraid. I rejoice in the coming storm. And I hate it, too. It will clear the air. There'll be brighter stars ahead. I think all men knew that trouble was near in Massachusetts. Before long, there were 4,000 British soldiers quartered upon us in Boston. One to each four inhabitants. The king's taxes threatened the livelihood of every man. A powder keg. Yes, A powder keg with a long fuse. Among the Sons of Liberty, there were those who counseled moderation. I was one of them. And there were the firebrands. My cousin Sam was their leader. I remember. He said, john, we're proud of you to stand fast and refuse a certain fortune. How did you know? Jonathan Sewell told no one but me. Sons of Liberty have ways of knowing. Your loyalty will be rewarded, cousin, in the future. If I thought of rewards, I'd have taken the crown post. And if you take my advice, Sam, you'll move more slowly. If violence must come, let it not be said that we began the open quarrel. I say, but this break no law. The law is my guide. But whose law? The King's law? No. The ancient common law of England by which we live. If we break it, we're lost. The law is our most precious weapon, Sam. I've heard of weapons that speak louder. You asked me to hold back the inevitable thunder. To stem the very tide of great events. The Sons of Liberty are prepared to seize the tide at the flood and move on to freedom and glory. Now we wait upon events to be sure. Perhaps we can shape events a little. Or more than a little. The flood tide, cousin, is almost here. The time to tread softly has passed. I never liked the tolling bells of Boston, preferring the queen of our stony acres at Braintree. But Abby loved the voice of the bells. Christchurch bell, she said, made a lordly Sound. The new north chime was out of tune. King's Chapel rang out deep and slow, as if it had to tell a story. Cheer, Abby. How like a woman's fancy. But soon the lordly bells were to make a new sound. A savage sound. Alarm bells ringing in the night. As for fire, for the flood tide came, as cousin Sam said it would. In a waterfront rope walk at lunch hour, English soldiers and Boston workmen exchanged obscenities and unforgivable blows were struck. The next morning, a poster appeared tacked up in a dockside tavern. It read, this is to inform the rebellious people in Boston that the soldiers in the 14th and 29th regiments are determined to join together and defend themselves against all who shall oppose them. Sign the soldiers of the 14th and 29th regiments. Well, well, well. We'll see about that. Yes, we'll see about that. Bloody lobster. Facts. Who posted that notice? Was it truly the soldiers? Or might it have been that mysterious gentleman in the red cloak and white wig who was everywhere on that fatal day? No one will ever know. But as night falls, strolling crowds of liberty boys begin to fill the streets. Barber's apprentice insults a sentinel. The sentinel gives chase, whacks the boy with the butt of his musket. Snowballs on ice begin to fill the air. An oyster shell, sharp, dangerous as razor blades. As if on a signal, the alarm bells break out. Man in the red spokes and fight wiggers everywhere, urging on the right rioters. Captain Preston, commanding the guard, brings seven men to rescue the sentinel. Crowd presses in. One of the soldiers is hit by an oyster shell, slips on the ice and falls. His gun goes off in the air. There is no order to fire. But this is the high tide. Here is the powder and here is the print. This is the inevitable hour. And the spark is struck. Three were dead, two mortally wounded. Quickly, the red clad regiments poured into the streets, bayonets glistening in the moonlight. Alarum bells ceased as suddenly as they had begun. By three in the morning, Boston was quiet again. Next day, I found cousin Sam and Ben Eddies, editor of the Gazette, waiting for me at my office. John, we need your advice. As ever, it seems. It may be too late now, Ben. I see the streets are filling up with armed men. Sam, surely you'll not carry this thing any further? No, John, enough is enough. But the farm lads are flocking in. Get them home. That's my advice. Get them quickly. Home. Sam, who was the man in the red cloak and white wig? Cousin, I'll thank you not to peer down your Great nose at me in that fashion. This is my only cloak. And it's black, rusty and threadbare enough, as you see. Ben, see who that is. Look through the window. Mr. Forster. The man they call the Irish infant. A friend of Captain Preston. Let him in, Ben. Mr. Adams. Mr. Adams. Thanks, Peter. God and his angels, I found you in. Oh, man. Tis a terrible thing. A terrible thing. What is your business, Mr. Forrester? I come from Captain Preston, sir. He's in great danger. He and his men will be tried at once for murder itself. All the great Tory lawyers have refused his case in fear of their precious necks. Captain Preston wants you to defend him, sir. As God is my witness. John Adams. Those men are innocent. They but save their own skins in the night. Confronted and threatened by the Yellen mob. Yes, yes. They were at their posts on duty. They are innocent. They acted in self defense. John, you can't do this. You ruined your career by refusing the governor's bribe. You lost all royal favor by doing this thing. You'll be cursed forever by men on our side. The side for liberty. Your own party. You risked your very life defending these massacring British soldiers. You can't do it, John. I can and I will. Those men are innocent and you know it. They cannot be denied a defender. Mr. Eddies. Yes, John? The Gazette today will kindly announce that John Adams will defend the king's soldiers now lying in jail under Capitol charges. The rule of justice, you may say, not mob rule, must prevail in Boston town. Come along, Forester. We'll talk to the prisoners. You are listening to the Dupont Cavalcade of America Star, starring Basil Rathbone and sponsored by the dupont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. We continue the Dupont Cavalcade of America with Basil Rathbone as John Adams. In colonial Boston, a great murder trial is taking place. The lives of eight British soldiers are at stake. John Adams, risking the ruin of his career, perhaps his life, is their counselor. Determined that justice shall be done. Our first move was to get a postponement of trial. Let the passions of my fellow townsmen cool a bit. Young Josiah Quincy was my associate in the case, and together we found half a hundred Bostonians calm enough to remember what actually happened that night. When the trial began, we had 96 witnesses against us. Honest men guided not by reason but by emotion, telling what they thought had happened. One by one, they took the stand. Day in, day out. There came in seven soldiers from the main guard without any coats on, driving along, swearing and cursing like wild creatures. Crying, Slay the Yankee. Slay them all, I say. Private Gilroy's bayonet was thick with dried blood up to three inches from the point. Three inches of blood. I thought of thy own eyes. Three bloody inches. Then our turn came. Hour by hour, the truth piled up on the word of our witnesses. Finally, Dr. Jeffries took the stand. He was the physician who had attended young Patrick Carr, one of the slain citizens, in his dying hours. My colleague for the defense, Josiah Quincy, was examining. Now, Dr. Jeffries, you visited young Carr, the innocent bystander, after he was injured? I did, Mr. Quincy, yes. What did you say to him after dressing his wounds? I advised him never again to go into quarrels and riots. And what did he say? He agreed. I had a good idea there. Told me also that he was a native of Ireland. He had frequently seen mobs and soldiers called upon to quell them. I see now he said more. Oh, go on, doctor. He said that never in all his life had he seen soldiers bear so much abuse before they were forced to fire upon a mob in self defense. Defense, milord. I object. Witness is expressing. Order. Order, please. We sustain the crowd. Proceed, Mr. Quincy. Now, how long did Patrick Carl live after he received his wound? 10 days, almost to the minute. And when had you a last conversation with him? About 4 o' clock in the afternoon of the day he died. And what did this dying boy say to you? He said, I forgive the man who shot me, whoever he is, as God will judge me soon. That soldier fired only to save himself from certain death. And then, with a prayer in my heart that our months of toil might have just reward, I heard his lordship declare. Mr. Mr. John Adams will sum up the cause of the defendant. May it please your lordships and you gentlemen of the jury. I am for the prisoners of the bar and shall apologize for it only in the words of a great Italian jurist, the Marquis of Beccaria. He said, if I can be but the instrument of preserving one life, his blessing upon my head shall be a sufficient consolation to me for the contempt of all mankind. We talk much of liberty and property. But if we cut up the law of self defense, we cut away the foundation of both. Place yourselves in the situation of Kilroy or the century with the people shouting, kill them. Kill them. On heaving snowballs, oyster shells, clubs, heavy birch sticks. Consider yourselves in the situation and then decide. If a reasonable man would not consider they were going to kill him. The law considers a man as capable of bearing anything and everything but blows. I may reproach a Man as much as I please. I may call him a thief, a robber, lobster bag. And if he kills me, it will be murder. But if from giving him such kind of language, I proceed to molest his person, that is an assault. That is a blow. The law will not oblige a man to stand still and bear it. There is the distinction. Hands off. Touch me not. As soon as you touch me. Then if I run you through the heart, it is but manslaughter the law reads. He who on an assault retreats to the wall, beyond which he can go no further. Before he kills the other, he is judged to act. As I said to you yesterday. I proceed, lest his. How long has he been talking now? Since 11 o' clock yesterday morning. 4 o' clock almost now. Nearly 12 hours yesterday and today. He can't talk much longer now, to use the words of Algernon Sidney, a law no passion can disturb. Tis void of desire and fear, lust and anger. Tis written reason, retaining some measure of the divine perfection. Our law commands that which is good and punishes evil in all, whether rich or poor, high or low. Tis death inexorable. Inflexible. So Sidney wrote law here, on the one hand, is inexorable to the cries lamentations of these prisoners. On the other hand, it is death. Death as an adder to the clamors of the populace of Boston. Gentlemen of the jury, to your candor and justice, I submit the prisoners and their cause. Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict? We have, your honor. And what is your verdict? The soldiers, William Wemms, James Hartigan, William McCauley, Hugh White, William Warren and John Carroll are not guilty. Soldiers Matthew Kilroy and Hugh Montgomery are not guilty of murder, but guilty of manslaughter. Your lordship. Your lordship. On behalf of the two defendants, Kilroy and Montgomery, proved guilty of manslaughter, I ask the benefit of clergy an archaic but perfectly legal plea. Mr. Adams. It is granted. They will be set free after they've been branded in the thumb. It is our usage that this be done at once. The bailiff will prepare the fire and the iron, and the court will please remain in order. Well, Abby, it's over. Over and won. Over and done. I'm proud of you, John. I did what I had to do. But what now? My day in the courts of this colony is over. Would you like to be a poor farmer's wife, Abby? I'd be quite content, But I don't believe that'll be necessary. You've won a greater Victory than you suppose, my dear. I saved the lives of eight innocent men. That's enough. I. I made 12 good men and true. See the right according to law and declare it. That's quite enough. But you did more. You won the minds and the hearts and the goodwill of the people of Massachusetts. Perhaps the people are wiser than you think, John. They will not make you suffer for having upheld their laws so well. And by God's grace and her own wisdom, Abbey was right. A few years later, I wrote in my diary, there is a new and grand scene opened before me. A Congress. I had been elected to that Congress by the people of Massachusetts. And the bells of Boston rang out in celebration as we set out for Philadelphia with Cousin Samuel and me reunited again in the great cause of liberty and on the cushions of a fine coach. Cousin, I said, that's the most impressive red cloak you're wearing. You like it, cousin? Was given me just last week by the Sons of Liberty. Tis most becoming. You're quite sure it is a new one, Cousin? Oh, yes, Cousin, Quite sure. You see, I always wanted a red cloak. Drive more slowly, boy. The people wish to see us. And have you reflected, Cousin? We may be driving towards a gallows tree. I have thought much of the King's rope, Cousin, but not too much. And you, John, you're still with us to the end, whatever that may be. I have crossed over my river. I have passed my Rubicon. I will never change. Sink or swim, survive or perish. I am with my country. Punt. Company joins in applauding Basil Rathbone and the Cavalcade Players for their performances tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, the star of tonight's Dupont Cavalcade of America, Basil Rathborne. Thank you. I just want to say first off that I enjoyed being here tonight this opening night of the new season. There are many good stories ahead for Cavalcade listeners and good stories stars, too. On next Tuesday night, for instance, you're going to hear an exciting story about four men who venture into the very heart of the Venezuelan jungle and come out with one of the greatest discoveries of our day. Dane Clark is going to head up with that exposition, so be sure to hear it. Good night. Now, tonight's original dupont drama was written by George H. Faulkner and was taken from an incident in the historical biography John Adams and the American Revolution by Katherine Drinker Bowen, published by Little, Brown and Company. Tonight's star, Basil Rathbone, will soon appear in the Broadway production, the Gioconda Smile. The music for the Dupont Cavalcade of America was composed by Arden Cornwell and conducted by Donald Voorhees. The program is directed by John Zoller. Don't forget next week, Dane Clark, the Dupont Cavalcade of America comes to you from the Belasco Theater in New York and is sponsored by the dupont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of Better Things for Better Living Through Chemistry. Three chimes mean good times on NBC, we just heard Basil Rathbone in the New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and the Cavalcade of America that will do it for this week's show. Thanks so much for joining me. I hope you'll be back next week for more Old Time Radio Detectives. In the meantime, you can check out Stars on Suspense, my other Old Time Radio podcast, new episodes of that show out on Thursdays. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show on Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com/stsotR I'll be back next week with more Old Time Radio Crime Fighters. But until then, good night and happy listening. Now here is our estate, ladies and gentlemen. In a prejudice filled America, no one would be secure in his job, his business, his church or his home. Yet racial and religious antagonisms are exploited daily by quacks and adventurers whose followers make up the irresponsible lunatic fringe of American life. Refuse to listen to or spread rumors against any race or religion. Help to stamp out prejudice in our country. Let's judge our neighbors by the character of their lives alone and not on the basis of their religion or origin.