← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 645 - Holmes Cooked Meals (New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes)
01:39:50
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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. We're only a few days away from Thanksgiving here in the USA and I imagine most of us are thinking about preparing and or eating a big meal come Thursday. So with thoughts of food in the air, I thought I'd celebrate Thanksgiving a little early with a trio of radio Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. And in each of them, a meal is a key part of the mystery. First up is the strange case of Mrs. Abernety from November 30, 1946. This one comes from actor Tom Conway's single radio season. Starring as Sherlock Holmes, Conway donned the deerstalker cap after Basil Rathbone stepped away from 221B Baker. Interestingly, a few years later, Conway would succeed another actor as a radio detective when he took over the role of the Saint from Vincent Price. Nigel Bruce, who for years had co starred alongside Rathbone on radio and on the big screen, remained on the series as Dr. Watson and got top billing for that season. And as Dr. Watson, Nigel Bruce narrates this story where a piece of parsley on the dinner table proves to be the key to solving a case of murder. The script is by longtime Holmes scriptwriters Anthony Boucher and Dennis Green. Then we'll hear two episodes starring my favorite radio Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. John Stanley and Alfred Shirley. The pair starred in the 1947-48 season of the New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a season where every episode was written by Edith Miser, the Sherlock superfan who was instrumental in bringing the detective to radio in the first place. Many talented writers worked on the Holmes radio series over the years, including the aforementioned Messrs. Boucher and Greene. But for my money, Edith Miser is the writer whose original mysteries come closest to matching the tone and style of of the original Conan Doyle Sherlock Holmes stories. Today we'll hear two of those Edith Mizer originals, starting with the case of King Philip's Golden Salver from February 29, 1948. The titular salver is pilfered during the dinner of the guards of The Tower of London and will close with the case of the Very best butter from April 18, 1948. A woman suspects her husband, a famous opera singer, is trying to poison her and she invites Holmes and Watson for dinner to see if her suspicions are correct. Dinner is about to be served. We'll start with our first course featuring Tom Conway as Sherlock Holmes, right after these messages. Looking for a good food buy, then get Velveeta, Kraft's famous pasteurized processed cheese food. Velveeta is one of the best food buys you can make because Velveeta is not only delicious, but it's nourishing too. And you can use Velveeta so many ways in snacks, sandwiches and for a variety of economical hot main dishes. Melt Velveeta for a smooth golden cheese sauce to extend leftovers or to use a new made dishes. Make it your handy helper for all kinds of money saving hot meals. Get it tomorrow. Your best buy in cheese food Velveeta made only by craft. Far to the south of us is our good neighbor country, Ecuador. Let's imagine ourselves there now, dining on the roof terrace cafe of the exclusive Hotel Metropolitano in Guayaquil, Ecuador, near us. An American has just complimented his hosts on the magnificent dinner, to which his host quickly responds, ah, yes, it is true that our foods are famous, but from your land comes a rare delicacy. Also, it is the superb wine, so excellent that we in Ecuador import it from your United States. My friend, I drink to you in your own delicious Roma wine. Our Ecuadorian friend is right for Roma wine's superb quality has won such favor in many far places that they import it, enjoy it as a rare luxury. But not so here in America. Here, millions know and enjoy Roma wines as an inexpensive everyday delight at meal times and when entertaining. So many, in fact, that Roma is America's largest selling wine. With no high import duties to pay nor expensive shipping costs, you enjoy these distinguished wines for only pennies a glass. Ask for Roma wines which bring you old World winemaking skill plus Roma's own modern controls and testing. That's R O M a Roma wines, America's largest selling wine made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. Here's a poor chap who could be anyone you know, including you. Francis. What are you doing stretched out on the couch? You better get ready if you're going to that meeting. I'll have to miss it tonight. Too much supper. My stomach set me down. Well, don't blame supper. You stuffed yourself like a glutton. I'm not just stuffed. I feel awful. I can imagine. You've got a good old fashioned upset stomach. And I've got just the thing for it. Pepto Bismol. Oh, I don't want to take anything. I can't afford to stay home tomorrow. You won't have to. Pepto Bismol is not like that. It won't add to your upset, but will help to soothe and calm it very quickly. Oh, nothing could be that good. No, just try it. Here. Take a good swallow of Pepto Bismol and you'll begin to feel better in no time. Why, you might even get to that meeting tonight. After all. Pepto Bismol is a gentler, better way to help an upset stomach. In fact, it's better in many ways. Pepto Bismol helps bring relief almost from the first moment. It begins to calm and quiet the upset right away. Then, because the Pepto Bismol formula is gentle and soothing, it doesn't interfere with normal digestion and doesn't add to the upset. Yes, Pepto Bismol is a dependable, speedy, pleasant tasting way to care for common stomach disturbances. Remember this. When your stomach's upset, don't add to the upset. Take Pepto Bismol to soothe it, calm it and feel good again. Good evening. This is your Rexall family druggist with a welcome from the 10,000 independent druggists who have made the word Rexall part of our own store names. We've done that because we recommend and sell the 2,000 or more drug products made by the Rexall Drug Company, like Rexall Milk of Magnesia. For example, here's the milk of Magnesia that's so pure and creamy smooth, so free from that unpleasant earthy taste, even children spot the difference. Ask for the Rexall Milk of Magnesia at Rexall drugstores everywhere. And remember, you can depend on any drug product that bears the name Rexall. 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. Kremel hair tonic and kremel shampoo present the new adventures of sherlock holmes starring nigel bruce as Dr. Watson and tom conway as sherlock holmes. Well, once again, it's time to join our good friend and host, Dr. Watson, as he waits for us in his familiar study. Good evening, Dr. Watson. Good evening, Mr. Bell. Well, are you all set for tonight's new Sherlock Holmes adventure? Yes, my boy, I'm all set. As you put it. I was looking over My notes on the case before you arrived and I came across this. It played an extremely prominent part in tonight's story. What is it, Dr. Watson? Looks like a dried leaf of some kind. In its younger days, Mr. Bell, it was a spirit sprig of parsley. Dr. Watson, I know you have the habit of collecting odd mementos from your cases, but a sprig of parsley? And yet, my boy, this withered piece of greenery enables Sherlock Holmes to solve one of the most diabolical murders that we ever encountered. The strange death of Mrs. Abernety. This I've got to hear. But first of all. Oh, I know, Mr. Bell, I know you have a message for our listeners. Every man who wants to get to the top should realize how much neatly groomed hair adds to a man's appearance. And I'm sure he'll be interested in hearing how so many of America's most prosperous and successful men keep their hair looking so attractive. They use Kremel Hair tonic. And it's easy to see why. Because Kremel contains precious hair grooming ingredients found in no other hair tonic. This is why Kremel gives a man's hair such a natural, well groomed look. It keeps it in place longer too. Yet Kremel never leaves hair looking or feeling greasy or sticky. Never leaves it feeling stiff as a board. Just make this test, men. After you apply Kremel, run your hand back over your hair. Notice how delightfully clean your hair feels. Notice how no grease comes off on your hand. Your hair always looks like a million and feels like a million when you use Kremel. K R E M L Kremel hair tonic. Now, Dr. Watson, how about the mystery of the Withered Parsley and the strange death of Mrs. Abernety? Well, Mr. Bell, at the time I'm talking about this, parsley, just like myself, was a great deal younger. But to get on with my story, Holmes had just concluded his amazing investigation in the affair of the Reading Bicycle pump murder. And we decided to stay for a few days in the nearby beautiful village of Pangbourne. The weather was surprisingly generous for an English summer. And on our second day, Holmes and I had gone for a stroll along the towpath of the River Thames. Holmes was in an extremely morose mood that day, I remember, as we walked back towards our hotel. Hello. Ah, the country's beautiful here, Holmes. Yes, I suppose it is. Oh, come, come. Look at the red and gray roofs of the cottages and the farms peeping out through the trees over there. So peaceful and soothing. I'M afraid it has the reverse effect on me, Watson. That's the curse of having a mind like mine. Oh? How do you mean? Home. I observe everything with reference to my own special subject. You look at those scattered houses and are impressed by their peace and beauty. I look at them and think how easily crime may be committed there. Good Lord. Who'd associate crime with a spot like that? It's my opinion, Watson, based on experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling countryside. What a morbid thought. The reason is obvious. The pressure of public opinion can do in the city what the law cannot accomplish. There's no lane so dark that the scream of a tortured child or the thud of a drunkard's blow does not obtain sympathy and help from some neighbor. But look at these lonely houses. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on year in, year out in such places and no one the wiser. Upon my soul, Holmes, you're in a particularly depressing mood. Hello, hello, hello. Look at this fellow running towards us. Must be crazy. Imagine galloping along a towpath on a hot day like this. From his expression I think we may reasonably assume that he's not doing it for the exercise. Excuse me, but is one of you gentlemen Dr. Watson? Yes, sir, I am. And this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Oh, how do you do, sir? Mr. Holmes. How do you do? My name is Gareth Abernety. I heard that you were staying in the village. I went to your hotel and they told me that you'd gone for a walk in this direction. I presume you need a doctor's help. Yes, I do. Dr. Watson, I know you're on a holiday, but I. Naturally I'm at your service, sir. What, what is wrong? Perhaps we could start walking back to the inn, my horse and trapper there and I'll tell you about it as we go. My, my mother's just had a bad heart attack. We live at home be Grange, a few miles out of the village. I'd. I'd like to drive you out there at once. Doctor, surely if you live here you must have a family doctor. Well, he's in London for a few days. Tell me, Mr. Abernety, what were the symptoms of your. Your mother's heart attack? Well, she, she said she was taking her usual nap before lunch. She started to go to sleep and, and suddenly woke up crying that she was, she was going to die. Said her heart seemed to stop beating entirely for A few moments. Has she had these attacks before? Well, I can't tell you much about it. The family says that's for her age. She's been in very good health. I've been abroad for a few years in China. I observe Mr. Appenette. Him? Yes. Yes, I went out there as a war correspondent covering the Boxer Rebellion. But how did you know? The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wrist could only have been done in China. That trick of staining the fish's scale a delicate pink is quite peculiar to that country. That's amazing, Mr. Holmes. Oh, it's not so amazing as all that. It's just a certain facility for observation, sir. For instance, from what you told me of your mother's symptoms, I should say that her lips are bluish, that she runs out of breath when walking upstairs, and the veins in her cheeks are unusually pronounced. I begin to think I've met a pair of magicians. But you're right, Doctor. I see I put you on your mettle, Watson. How did you deduce that? Elementary, my dear Holmes. The symptoms of Mr. Abernety described were typical of mitral constriction. I shall be delighted to examine your mother and do whatever I can for her. I'm very grateful, Doctor. You're in good hands, Mr. Abernety. Well, Watson, I shall see you later. No doubt this is one case in which I'm sure you need no help from me. Well, Dr. Watson, I'm not much of a one for doctors. Stick out your tongue and give me a guinea. That's what most of them say. Well, what's your verdict? That there's Nothing seriously wrong, Mrs. Abernety. Just take these drops I'm giving you before each meal and you'll be well in no time. Lizzie. Yes, ma'? Am? You heard what the doctor said. Now try and stop your wool gathering long enough to see that I get those drops. Yes'm. I won't forget. You'd forget your own name if the butcher's boy was to ring the bell though, wouldn't you? Yes'm. I mean, no emotions. You can leave the room. Lizzie. Yes? I think you should rest for a while, Mrs. Amen, Eddie. Plenty of time for rest at my age, Doctor. Anyway, I want to talk to you privately. That's why I sent Lizzie out of the room. I want you to bring your friend Sherlock Holmes here to lunch tomorrow. Sherlock Holmes? But how did you know that Lizzie was in the village? There's nothing new in the village or anywhere else going on here that I don't know about Doctor. Now will you bring him? I've got something very important to discuss with him. I don't think of the state of your heart that you. Oh, what was that filthy medicine you gave me? It's made me sleepy. Well, that was its purpose, madam. My family think I going to die. They're waiting for it, hoping for it. Oh, rubbish, rubbish, rubbish. You're not going to die, madam. We'll fool them, Doctor, won't we? We'll fool them. Who is he? Now, now, now, Mrs. Avenetti. I'll go to the door. Oh, doctor. I came to see how Granny was getting along. I'm Rose Abbot. I'm Dr. Watson. How do you do, my dear? Who is it, Doctor? It's me, Granny. I came to see how you are. Take the doctor downstairs, Rose. Give him some tea and introduce him to the rest of the family. He's got bad news for them. I'm going to live. Uncle Gareth, will you introduce Dr. Watson, please? Of course, my dear Rose and I appreciate your motive in giving me the privilege. A shy, retiring girl like yourself would hardly dare make such a descriptive introduction as I will. Uncle Gareth, you've been drinking again. Well, since I was the only member of this heartless Abernety clan that had the initiative to go and get a doctor, I think I wasn't title to a brandy or two. Oh, come on Watson. Come and meet my noble brothers. They're here in the library waiting like hopeful vultures for bad news about our dear mother's health. I think perhaps some other time. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no. Might as well get it over with. I'm sorry Dr. Watson, I didn't know uncle had been drinking. Oh, that's quite all right, my dear child. Dr. Watson, let me introduce my brother, Ernest. How do you do? How are you, Dr. Watson? Since the success of Oscar Wilde's recent comedy of manners, Ernest has been unbearable. I think he took its title too literally. I suppose you're referring to the importance of being Ernest. As you see Doctor, my brother is a brilliant wit and brandy sharpens his perceptions even more. He's been known to launch a whole string of leaden epigrams in the course of one evening. Yes, and he's been known to do an honest day's work in his life. Which is more than you can, I'm sure. Dr. Watson has no desire to listen to our dreary wranglings. Why not introduce him to John? I'm going to. Watson, this is my other brother, John Abernetti how do you do, sir? How do you do? Dr. John is the respectable member of the family. He manages the estates here and at least has the unique distinction of having worked for the money he gets from Mother. I shouldn't talk like this in front of a stranger. Gareth, that. Yes, Uncle Gareth, Dr. Watson's come here to tell us about Granny. Oh, and then let's hear the verdict. It means much more to us than you could possibly imagine, I can assure you. Well, I examined Mrs. Abernety very thoroughly. Considering her age, I'm glad to say that her condition is quite good. I've prescribed genitalis for her and she should pull through very nicely. In fact, I see no reason why she shouldn't live to be a hundred. Oh, Uncle Ernest, that was one of our nicest wine glasses. Look at this, Watson. You give us the best possible news and look at our faces. Don't you realize that this whole family is waiting for one thing? My mother's death. I tell you, Holmes, it was perfectly nauseating. I must say they sound like a peculiarly unattractive family. Well, except the granddaughter Rose. She's a sweet little thing, but the others are a bunch of good for nothing. Undoubtedly. And yet my reaction to what you've told me is one of intense curiosity. As I remarked earlier today, the quiet countryside beneath its external beauty cloaks some of the vilest happenings. Well, I admit the atmosphere in that household is vile, all right. And think of the potential tragedy smoldering there. A wealthy matriarch who controls the purse streams, four relations living there and praying for one thing. Her death. No, Watson. With such a setting my curiosity is overpowering. Then you will call on her if you think she's in good enough condition to see me. Attempts may have already been made on her life. Normally, I'd suggest postponing it for a day or two, but if you think that she's in danger, Watson, tomorrow we shall call upon the lady and see what can be done to help her. Gavin, I tell you. Mr. Holmes. Mrs. Abernety, before we go into lunch, I should like to tell you why I asked you to come here today. And I want my family to know too. Children, I want your attention. Oh, Mother. Not another lecture, surely. No, Ernest, not a lecture, merely a statement of fact. I have asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes here today because he is a detective. A detective? What's the matter, Mother? Has someone pinched the family silver? Gareth, be quiet now, please don't excite yourself, madam. Remember that heart of yours. Yes, Granny. Do be careful. Stop Fussing over me, Rose. And sit down, Gareth. You mentioned the family silver. How did you know that's what I was going to speak about? Oh, Mother, I was only joking. Were you? Strange joke, Mr. Holmes. I discovered a few days ago that the Abernety silver has been stolen piece by piece and replaced by imitations. How do you know, Mrs. Abernety? I recently had occasion to have some of our silver knives repaired. The blades were loose in the handles. The London jeweler to whom I sent them reported that they were not the family silver, but plated imitations. I had him come down here and examine the rest of the set. Their frauds. I want you to find out who's responsible. I know it's one of these four children. That's ridiculous, Mother. Why suggest that one of us is responsible? Because I know your children too well. Personally, I think it's what you deserve. Mother. How dare you. I'm not dependent on you, Mother. But the others are. You've kept them dangling too long. Look at you, Rose. You're still young. Are you gonna stay here another 20 years waiting for your grandmother to die? Get it? Leave her room now, please. Please. Mrs. Abernetti. Lunch will serve, ma'. Am. Oh, go away. I love you. Quick, Watson. She's having another attack. Out to the room, Everybody, please. Oh, doctor. Hell. No, no, no. Don't worry, Mrs. Abernety. You're going to be quite all right. Are you feeling better, Mrs. Abenetti? Yes, Mr. Holmes, I am. That digitalis soon pulled you around, didn't it? You must remember not to take another dose until this evening. In the meanwhile, I think you'd better go and lie down. No, Doctor, I want to go into lunch. And afterwards, I have something else to tell you, Mr. Holmes. Something I don't intend the family to hear. And it's much more significant than stealing silver. Mrs. Abernety, I think if you were to tell me your real problem now, simply and directly, a great deal of time and patience might be saved. After lunch, Mr. Holmes. Doctor. Give me your arm. Excellent lunch, I must say. And the conversation has had all the sparkle and gaiety of a funeral oration. Well, since you've entirely monopolized the conversation, Gareth, let's not Very surprising. Stop wrangling. You two got guests. Bad form, you know. Mr. Holmes. Did you care for some art, stuffy? Thank you, Mrs. Etty. I'd like another cup. Granny, what's wrong? Your hand's shaking. So, doctor. Granny. Dr. Watson. This is heaven, is it? Don't be with my own Single career. She's dead. Then I must assume a different mission than the one I came here to perform. I suggest that you all leave this room and that one of you sends a servant for the police. Murder has just been committed before our eyes. Murder? But Holmes, she died of a heart attack. When death is so intensely desired by four persons present. No, Watson, I'm afraid I can't assume a verdict of natural death. In proof, I suggest you notice the depth to which that parsley has sunk in the butter. I repeat, send for the police. Before we find out what the police discover. Men, once you get bald, there's nothing you can do about it. But it's never too early to make the most of the hair you've got. That's why I urge you to try Kremel Hair tonic. Kremel contains very special, special hair grooming ingredients which have never been duplicated in any other hair tonic. Kremel keeps the hair in place longer, always looking so neat and well groomed, never greasy or sticky. But this highly specialized hair tonic does lots more than just keep the hair looking handsome. A quick massage with Kremel helps stimulate circulation right in the surface of the scalp, leaving your scalp feeling so alive, so invigorated. At the same time, Cremel removes loose dandruff and has a fine lubricating effect on a dry scalp. And if your hair is dry and breaks and falls, Kremel actually helps condition the hair in that it leaves it feeling so much softer, more pliable. Men, I'm sure you'll enjoy the way Kremel always feels so clean on your scalp, looks so clean on your hair and has such a clean odor. How it helps get you such a handsome, clean cut appearance. Buy a bottle at any drug counter. K R E M L Cremo Hair Tonic. Well, Dr. Watson, I begin to see what you mean about that withered sprig of parsley. But I still don't understand what it had to do with the death of the old lady. Well, more did I, Mr. Bell at the time. But Sherlock Holmes soon experienced, explained it to me. As soon as the family left the dining room and the police had been sent for, Holmes and I stood together in that room of death examining the dining room tape. Yes, Watson, I'm certain that she was poisoned before our eyes. But how? Holmes, you will admit that in her condition, a double dose of digitalis would have been fatal. Possibly, yes, but she didn't have an overdose. I gave her some before we came into lunch and told her not to take her usual dose at the table. And she didn't take it? Not consciously, Watson, but I'm convinced that she received another dose in her food. How? She didn't eat the roast lamb the rest of us had. She simply had two lightly boiled eggs. She cracked them open herself. They couldn't have been poisoned. But she put butter in her eggs. Large quantities of butter. We all ate butter from the same dish home. True, but once again I ask you to observe the significant fact, the depth to which the parsley has sunk in the butter. The parsley hasn't sunk perceptibly. That, my dear Watson, is the significant fact. Oh, beg your pardon, sir. Lizzie said as I thought, something was wrong with the lunch. I'm the cook. Something was very wrong with the lunch, my good woman. Oh, I'm sorry. And I hear as our Mrs. Abendette has been took with another of her spells. Yes, she has. Tell me, was this table late for lunch at 1 o'? Clock? Yes sir, it was. But you didn't come in till after? No. Lighter. While Mrs. Abenetta's attack delayed us in the drawing room did anyone come through the kitchen into this room? No sir. Lizzie and me would have seen them if they had. And when you set the table you placed this butter here? Yes sir. As you see it's garnished with parsley. Did you do that? No sir, I didn't. That's funny. Who could have put that on? Joe Holmes, you're right. But the roast of lamb was garnished with parsley, wasn't it? Yes sir, it was. Splendid. I'm much obliged to you. I hope the mistress finds better soon, sir. Watson, I'm going to take that butter to the village chemist, shot and have it analyzed. While I'm doing that I want you to conduct an experiment of your own. What do you want me to do? Obtain a fresh quantity of butter from the kitchen, place a sprig of parsley on top of it and see how far in half an hour it sinks in. This is where I'm spending my time I must say. Nevertheless, Watson, I. I think the experiment may give us the vital clue to the murder. Well, Holmes, and what did you find out at the chemist? It was as I suspected, Watson. The butter was thoroughly impregnated with digitalis and yet we all ate some of it. True. It would not produce any effect on a normally healthy person. In the case of Mrs. Abernety, however. However two doses in quick succession were fatal. Great Scott. What was the result of your experiment, old chap? Well in half an hour on a blazing hot day like this, parsley sinks quite noticeably into the butter. Therefore it was placed there shortly before we came in late to lunch, not when the table was set. But what was the motive? The butter had been shaped by a mold. It was patterned on the top. The murderer used a hypodermic needle to inject the digitalis and he had to hide the holes made by the needle. So he took the parsley from the roast and placed it on the butter. Who? Who had the opportunity? That's what we have to find out. Have the police arrived? Yes, there's a Sergeant Jenkins in charge. He's out there in the kitchen questioning these servants. Then let's join forces. A murderer's in this house, Watson. Between us, we've got to catch him. Mr. Holmes, I've questioned everybody. The cook, Martha says nobody came into the kitchen when lunch was waiting on the table. And yet we know somebody did. Sergeant. Perhaps they came through the window. I checked that too, sir. The gardener was working in the rhododendron bed outside. He said no one went in that way. And the only other entrance to the dining room was the door leading into the library. Oh, I checked on that one too. Mr. Holmes. Mr. John Abernetti and his brother Ernest were playing a game of chess there. They swore that no one went through that door. Well it looks as if no one could have tampered with the butter, whereas we know they did. Sergeant Jenkins, you've been very thorough in your examinations but one of these witnesses is lying. We must talk to them again. Martha, when you said no one came through your kitchen and went into the dining room, you meant no member of the family? That's right, sir. If it had been one of the other domestics, Lizzie for example, you wouldn't have noticed it. Now you mention it, sir, Lizzie did go in just before they came into Lansing. Lizzie did but White. Watson. Sergeant, please ask Mr. Ernest Abernety to step in here for a moment. Yes, Mr. Holmes. Lizzie did go through the library door but I can't see that factor's of much importance. Possibly you can't. And yet I assure you my question was not mine. 1. Was Lizzie carrying anything, do you recall? I really didn't notice. I'm afraid I find the problems of chess, even with brother John as an opponent, more interesting than the perambulations of the worthy. Lizzie. Lizzie. Yes, sir? You did go into the room just before lunch. Yes sir, I remember that. I forgot to put the claret out so it'd be room temperature. Mr. Ernest is most particular about that. Thank you Lizzie, you may go. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Oh, do you think she did it? Surely there's no doubt of it in your mind now, is there? Well there is in mind, Mr. Holmes, and no mistake. And yet the case is solved. Sergeant, let's go into the drawing room and I'll introduce you to our murderer. And so ladies and gentlemen, you can all see now how the murder was committed. But by Lizzie. But that doesn't seem possible, Mr. Holmes. What motive would she have? Oh, I could understand her motive. Mother's been an absolute tyrant with her. I find it hard to believe that with her adult pated mentality she'd have the imagination to think of such a plot. Oh no, Gareth. The man responsible for this murder is you. Ridiculous. I did not say the murderer, I said the man responsible. Holmes, what on earth you driving at, Gareth by his example in finding a job and going abroad caused one of his other relatives to become disgusted with the life of a parasite. That person decided to go beyond such petty devices as stealing silver and to turn to murder. An Abernety commit murder I say. Really a remarkably brilliant observation. Which one is it, Holmes? Surely that's obvious. Two witnesses, the cook and Ernest at first swore no one had entered the dining room. Then when I asked a question based on one of the elementary flaws of direct evidence, each admitted that Lizzie had entered. Lizzie herself admitted it, Mr. Holmes. Very true. She told us in detail how she had entered the dining room once, but the witnesses had her entering twice. The cook saw her come through the kitchen door. And you, Ernest, admitted that she had passed you through the library door. Someone else had realized that flaw of evidence that no employer really notices the actions of a servant. Someone else had entered that room in the maid's uniform. And who is the only suspect who could have done that? I killed Rose Abernake. The shy and retiring Rose? Yes, I killed granny. When Dr. Watson said that grandmother might live another 20 years, I saw that I'd never get away from here. Well you're getting away from here now, miss. I'm taking you over to the station. I don't care. I'd be an old maid. And I warn you that anything you say may be used in evidence. Against. What? A shocking case. I'm glad we're headed back to our hotel and never have to see that Abernety family again. We'll have to make a brief appearance at the trial of the girl. I'm afraid I still find it hard to believe that quiet shy Little thing was capable of conceiving such a devilish murder. Solitude, unhappiness and the companionship of an evil maladjusted family and a tyrannical grandmother. Breed dark fences, Watson. She dressed up in a maid's uniform, convinced that no one would give her a second glance. And then, having poisoned the butter, returned, changed her dress and sat down at the luncheon table. Precisely. Well, Watson, this has been an unsavory case, but it points a moral, a model that I hope you, as my self appointed biographer, will profit by. What moral is that? The extreme importance of observing details. Ms. Abbonetti would not now be on her way to a prison cell if I had noticed one vital clue. The depth to which the parsley had sunk in the butter. Just a moment. Dr. Watson will be back to tell us something about next week's story. Girls, have you noticed how men can't help but admire the bright shimmering highlights and a woman's hair? Then why not follow the advice of the famous Million Dollar Powers models girls noted for their glossy bright hair? Powers models wash their hair with Cremel Shampoo. This amazingly beautifying Cremel Shampoo actually glamour bathes each tiny strand of hair and uncovers all its natural radiant luster. Yes, and Cremel Shampoo never dries the hair. In fact, it has a beneficial oil base which helps keep the hair from becoming dry or brittle. Its luxurious active foam penetrates right to the scalp and removes all loose dandruff as well as the dirt. So, ladies, buy a bottle of Kremel shampoo at any drug counter. See how easy it is to glamour bathe your hair to a vision of tantalizing loveliness. K R E M L cremel shampoo. Now, Dr. Watson, what about next week? Well, next week I think I'll tell you about the singular. Upon me was the singular affair of the Coptic compass. The Coptic Compass? Sounds intriguing, Dr. Watson. Sherlock Holmes found it. So, Mr. Bell, the adventure started one afternoon when Holmes and I, returning to our Baker street rooms, found lying in the middle of our floor, an unclothed corpse. Tonight's new Sherlock Holmes adventure was suggested by an incident in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story the Six Napoleons. Nigel Bruce appeared by permission of California Pictures, Tom Conway through the courtesy of Eagle Lion Pictures. This is Joseph Bell speaking for Kremel Hair Tonic and Kremel Shampoo and inviting you to be with us next week at point this same time when Dr. Watson will tell us about the singular affair of the Coptic compass. This is abc the american broadcasting company. From New York City, the makers of clipper craft clothes for men, and 1036 leading retail stores from coast to coast present the world's most famous detective, Sherlock Holmes. Tonight's adventure, the Case of King Philip's Golden Salver. Well, well, if it isn't our old friend Mr. Harris. Returned from his vacation with a brand new coat of tan, but still wearing my favorite clipper craft suit, Doctor. And looking forward to a Sherlock Holmes adventure. What's it to be tonight, Dr. Watson? Well, Mr. Harris, it concerns the strange disappearance of an elaborate golden platter sent to Queen Elizabeth by Philip of Spain. It was, of course, a priceless historical masterpiece which belonged by rights with the rest of the crown jewels in the Tower of London. Tower of London. What a fabulous place that is, Dr. Watts. It is indeed, Mr. Harris. Dating from William the Conqueror, it has been a citadel, a royal palace, a state prison and a mint. It is still a fortress, an armory, a treasury with a resident military garrison. Quite a setup. It represents the most glorious as well as the most bloody pages of English history. And does tonight's story live up to the Tower's reputation, Doctor? Well, I suppose I answer that question after you said a word or two in behalf of clippercraft. Fair enough, Dr. Watson. Wherever you go in America, fine stores sell Clipper craft clothes. Yes, proudly sell them and recommend them to men who demand the most for their money. Now, that's because truly fine clothes, especially in these days of high prices, are nowhere else available at such modest prices. You see, it's the Clipper craft plan that makes these amazing values possible. By concentrating the buying power of 1036 fine stores from coast to coast. Tremendous savings are made in manufacturing and distribution costs. The savings go just one place to you. At a friendly local independent store, you get superlatively fine clipper craft suits at the incredibly low price of $40 and $45. Beautifully tailored topcoats and fine coverts and worsted gabardine for only 40 and 45 dollars. And sport jackets for only 26, 50. Compare them tomorrow with clothes selling for many dollars more. And now to return to the tower of London. Dr. Watson. Yes, it was one glorious afternoon in early June. The late afternoon sunshine cast a glow of gold on Tower Green. To the right of us loomed the great original keep of William the Conqueror called the White Tower. Say, I've seen pictures of it. Part fortress, part dungeon. To the left was Beecham Tower, and directly ahead was the Little Chapel of St. Peter. Holmes was enjoying one of his favorite forms of relaxation. Feeding raw beef to the ravens who still inhabit that spot. The same spot where once stood the scaffold on which was poured out the lifeblood of some of the greatest names in English history. Hear, hear, hear. I'm not so greedy. You've had your share, oh great bloated, beastly birds with their evil yellow eyes. How can you endure the sight of them, Holmes? Think of the bodies their ancestors must have fed on. Don't be so squeamish, Watson. The scaffold which formerly stood on this site was used only for the beheadings of Queens Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, the Countess of Salisbury, Viscountess Rockford, Lady Jane Grey in the Earl of Essex. No, no, no, you next. As a rule, the political prisoners incarcerated in the Tower were beheaded on Tower Hill or hanged at Tyburn. There were of course, exceptions. Oh naturally. Archbishop Cranmer and Bishops Latimer and Ridley were burned at Oxford. Sir Walter Raleigh was executed in Old Palace Yard. Sir Thomas Overbury was poisoned. The two little princes, Edward V and the Duke of York, were strangled in the Bloody Tower. Then of course there was the Duke of Clarence who was drowned in a butt of marmsy wine. I must say, if I had to be executed, that's the method I choose. Oh, go away you shoe O Holmes. He bit me. Serves you right for making sport of the Tower's traditions. Hello. Who is the young lady coming across the parade grounds? She looks vaguely familiar. She's holding her parasol so far over her face she can't put. There. You see, she almost ran into that Beefeater. Now she just missed the old lady with the ear trumpet. What's the matter with the girl? Can't she see where she's going? Probably not, Watson. She's trying desperately to keep from crying. Great Scottish Lady Cynthia, sister of that ass Bobbison Simon and daughter of the Duke of Balmoral. What do you suppose a pretty thing like that has to cry about? Life isn't all beer and skittles, Watson. Even to those in Burke's Peerage, yes. Unless I'm very much mistaken, she's upset because her fiance, young Lieutenant Ronald Backwater, has been chucked in the guardhouse and threatened with court martial and dismissal from the Tower guards. Good Lord, whatever for? Stealing, Watson. He's accused of purloining a precious golden platter. Yes, I rather thought we might run into the Lady Cynthia if we visited the Tower this afternoon. Holmes, you fraud. And I thought you came here to feed the ravens. Here she is, my dear. Lady Cynthia. Is there Anything I can do? No, no thank you, I'm quite all right. A cinder in my eye. There's nothing I. Wait a minute. You're. Mr. Sherlock Holmes? @ your service. Oh, I don't know what to say. Oh dear, what did I do with my handkerchief? Allow me to offer mine, Lady Cynthia. Thank you. You must be Dr. Watson. Oh you're both so kind to me. He didn't do it you know. Ronnie isn't a thief. Of course not. It's all the fault of that dreadful old man. What old man, sir? Stafford Blodgett, the new mayor and governor of the Tower. He's a dried up old bachelor himself, well over 40. Dear, dear, practically senile. Hey Watson, he doesn't want anyone in the guards to get married. Blodgett? Great Scott, that must be Old Blood and Bullets Blodgett. Yes, I believe that's what Ronnie and Arthur call him. Arthur can't get married either because his fiance hasn't any more money than I have. Oh, and I hate that old Blodgett and I wish he were dead. You're not the first to make that statement, my dear. I served under him at Maiwan where he won his vc. The entire regiment hated his gizzard. Well he is a magnificent soldier and as cruel a man as ever ordered his native orderly beaten for forgetting to clean his boots. The beast. Why did he have to be put in charge of the tower? Oh dear, I'm making a perfect spectacle of myself. What will everyone think? It's the heat and the sun. Very, very trying. Suppose we just slip into the Little Chapel of St Peter's up ahead there where it's quiet and dark and cool. We'll pick out a nice comfortable pew and you can tell Sherlock Holmes all about it. There we are my dear. Suppose we take the third pupil. Thank you Watson. You might offer the lady a whiff of smelling salts and a fresh handkerchief. I'm sorry to be such a nuisance. I'll be all right in a minute. Quite. As you know Watson, the premises known as the Tower of London are completely surrounded by the City of London. It's a self ruled and regulated community. Its gates are locked at night and its ancient moat, although it's drained to make a parade ground, is still capable of being flooded. Sounds fairly medieval. And the absolute ruler of the entire place, the individual whose word is law is the mayor and governor. In this case Old Blood and Bullets, alias Stafford Blodgett. Correct. He resides on the premises as do his officers and men. That's right, Mr. Holmes. Well, last night Sir Stafford Blodgett invited five of the younger officers to his quarters for dinner. The ones who had petitioned to marry this June, you know. Good Lord, do they have to get permission from him to do that too? Oh no, not to get married exactly. But he does say whether or not he considers the young ladies suitable, you know. And if he decides they're not? Oh, then the prospective bridegroom is advised to give up the whole idea or resign from the guards. How perfectly barbaric. Quite so. You can imagine how dithery the poor chaps were when it got round they'd been summoned to hear the verdict. Dinner was to be at eight, and promptly at three minutes past they sat down at Sir Stafford's oak table in his sitting room in the byword Tower. Byword? Tower? But I thought the Governor's quarters were always in King's house. And so they are. But that would be too cosy and cheerful for the old vulture. No, he's moved into Bywood Tower because it's grimmer, I'll be bound. I wonder. He deserved rather strategic advantages, you know. Bywood Tower is curious appellation, eh, Holmes? I wonder how he got the name. Bywood was formerly a synonym for password, Watson. Bywood Tower has always been the main entrance to the Tower of London. Of course, that's why he's moved there, so he could spy on his men as they went in and out. There could just possibly be another reason, you know. However, suppose you finished telling me about the dinner party? Oh, it was a very elegant dinner party. Properly chilled white wine with a turbot and excellent burgundy with a roast. Not that anyone but old blood and bullets had much appetite. He eats like a. An anaconda. Well, finally they came to the suite. It was served on an enormous golden platter which Sir Stafford had had specially brought in for the occasion. Bring me that potter Cheevers and finish off that last bit of pudding. Yes, sir. I want these young hopefuls to have a good look at the design underneath. Yeah. Ah, there, clean as a whistle. Pass it around. That's a good chap. Oh, very good, sir. But I say, Sir Stafford, isn't this that King Philip's salver that's kept with the crown jewels. Right you are, Backporter. Presented by Philip of Spain to Elizabeth when he was courting the lady. Hence the rather frank representation of the goddess Aphrodite and all the little cupids. Yes, a historic piece. Rather appropriate to this occasion, eh? What? That's why I had it brought Over. Of course, Philip never managed to marry the lady. We hope you lads have better luck. Did he have to say that? That bad taste. Easy, Ronnie, don't get the wind up. I don't like the glint in the old buzzard's eye. He's up to something. And now, as the port goes round, shall we proceed to the more agreeable portion of the evening's entertainment? Yes. I have here a list of the young ladies on whom you have bestowed your affection for one reason or another. As far as your backwater. Oh, sorry, sir. Personally, I've never believed that marriage was a help to any man's army career. However, as there's no ruling against it, there's valid light. Can do, I suppose. Yes. Now let me see. Lieutenant Reginald Wentworth, you wish to marry the honorable Nora Jennings? Yes, sir. No objections. Poor Reggie. I think he's going to faint with relief. Next. Lieutenant Herbert Woolsey. You desire to marry a Miss Ruby Reynolds. I understand she's an American. Most unsuitable. But she was educated in England, sir. I said most unsuitable. Next. Lieutenant Arthur Emerson. Here I go. Has chosen a Miss Fanny Venable. No objections. Oh, thank you, sir. Good luck, Arthur. Thank you, Lieutenant Buford. Wellington intended his. Let me see. Lady Daphne Marchbanks. Sorry, Wellington won't do. But her father is the Earl of Battersby, sir. Her mother was a gaiety girl. Quite out of the question. What? Rather. Daphne's mother's first rate. Accepted everywhere. Easy, Ronnie. Don't get hot under the collar. You're next. At last we come to Lieutenant Ronald Backwater, who wishes to marry Lady Cynthia St. Simon. Delightful young lady. Most suitable. That's a relief. Not that I expected trouble, but you. I have only one thing more to say on this subject. During my tenure here in charge of the Tower, I shall make one further ruling about young ladies who marry into the corps. What's that, sir? As you know, the officers in this outfit are a hand picked lot. We've always boasted the best blood in the Empire, even if we are only younger sons. My point exactly. Younger sons are so often not too well supplied with worldly goods. That's one of the reasons we chose the army, sir. Don't interrupt. Confound it. Oh, sorry, sir. The pay of an officer in the Tower guard is enough to keep him in proper style. If he is a bachelor. Now what's he getting at? Quiet, Ronnie. It has, however come to my attention that men with families sometime have to scrape a bit. Don't tell me the old boy's going to get us a Raise and pay. Oh, not old blood and bullets. The Tower Guard is called upon an appear on many occasions of state. During the last royal review, I was horrified to notice that the dress uniforms of two captains, both of them married men, showed signs of wear. One of them had a small down on the left sleeve. Oh, horrors. The empire is crumbling. Consequently, I feel it incumbent upon me to make a new ruling. Any young lady wishing to marry an officer of the Tower Guard must bring with her a dowry of £5,000 minimum. 5,000? That's outrageous, sir. It's impossible. The girls we want to marry, they're from good families, but they're not rich. Then I suggest you look around a bit further until you find some that. Ah, but that's unfair, sir. It's rank tyranny. Backwater, are you presuming to criticize your superior officer? Yes, by heaven, Ronnie, by what right do you. Ronnie. Shut up, you fool. Don't get the old boys back up. We'll get round him somehow. What's that? Oh, I was telling Lieutenant Backwater that you had only his own good at heart, sir. Yes, I'm glad to see someone in this outfit has some appreciation of my point of view. And now, gentlemen, when Chivers clears the table, I suggest I show you around my quarters. First of all, I'll demonstrate the portcullis. Oh, by the way, Shivers, put the gold platter on the table by the door and don't take your eye off of it for a minute. I'll take it back to Wakefield Tower myself later on. Very good, sir. Right away, sir. And now the port colors, gentlemen. The machinery that operates it is here in the hallway next to the bath. Wait. I'll demonstrate. I carry the key to the padlock myself. Don't want anyone else fooling with it, you know. Oh, here we are. Now then, if someone will warn them below. The bars of the portcullis are dashed heavy. Wouldn't want to impale anyone. I'll attend to it, sir. Look out below. We're lowering the port Calais. Ready? You ain't. Here she goes. I say, sir, that is impressive. Yes. This portcull is here in Bywood Tower. And the one in the Bloody Tower. Are the only two in England still in working order. Must make you feel quite safe, sir. Once that's down, no one can get in. And no one can get out either. But come along, gentlemen. I'll show you my sleeping quarters. This way. I only use three rooms. Kitchen, sitting room and bedroom. Enough for an old soldier, you know. Here we are, gentlemen. My Bedroom, I say. It's almost circular. Built into the tower itself. And what a whopping big canopy bed. I never use it. Here's where I sleep. Here in this alcove. Don't believe any soldier worth his salt should sleep in a bed. My army caught here, slept on it during all my campaigns. Sleep on it now and always will. Confound it. Probably die in it. A Spartan life. That's what the army needs. Discipline. Self denial. What's the matter, backwater? Why are you looking at me like that? I'm sorry, sir. I feel a bit under the weather. If you'll excuse me a moment, sir, please. Typical. Typical of the younger generation. No intestinal fortitude. Can't even carry their liquor. Come over here, gentlemen, and I'll let you see my decorations. Keep them in a box here in the top drawer. Cheepers. Cheepers. I'm sorry, but the bathroom door seems to be locked. Oh, yes, sir. The Governor keeps the key in the sideboard. I'll fetch it for you. He's a very cautious chip, the Governor is. It keeps everything locked up, even to the whiskey, which. Oh, yes, in the bottom drawer. Here it is. Here it is, sir. What? What's the matter, sir? You look so stiff and funny, like you was on parade. Oh, it's nothing, Cheevers. I've just had an idea, a perfectly brilliant idea. And then ends the tour of the premises. Didn't take long, eh? What? Shivers. Cigars. And bring another decanter of pot. Yes, sir. I say, what's become of Backwater? Here he comes, sir, across the hall. Hey there, backwater. In here. Oh, sorry, sir. When I finished washing up, I went back into the bedroom to join you. Well, we're back in here. You missed seeing my medals. Oh, I say so I am sorry. Never mind. Never mind, Major. I mean, Governor. What up, Cheevers? How often must I tell you not to address me as sir? Stafford. Yes, sir. Well, sir, whoever ye are, the platter's gone, sir. What? Yes, sir. Someone swipe Philip's golden platter. Women have an eye for value. So take a lady along when you select your new clipper craft suit. For there isn't a test clipper craft clothes can't pass. Note how comfortable you feel in a long wearing Clippercraft worsted suit. Here's downright amazing value. And in the fine local independent store that sells clipper craft clothes. These sensational values in the face of today's high prices are the result of the Clippercraft plan concentrating the buying power of 1036 of the nation's finest stores from coast to coast. That's why today you pay only $40 and $45 to for truly fine clipper craft suits. Only $40 and $45 for topcoats and only $26.50 for sport jackets. 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He immediately accused Ronnie of having taken the wretched platter simply because he was the only one who was out of his sight for a moment. And also because he'd come back into the sitting room to speak to Cheevers, no doubt. Yes, but he couldn't have done it, Mr. Holmes. I mean, Ronnie wouldn't think of such a thing. My dear Lady Cynthia, I hope Ronnie insisted on being searched immediately. Oh, he did, Mr. Holmes. They didn't find a trace of anything, naturally. But even then Sir Stafford wasn't satisfied. He said Ronnie had probably dropped it out of the windows to an accomplice. Sir Stafford's a fool. The presence of an accomplice would mean the theft was premeditated. I gather no one but Sir Stafford knew the platter was to be on the premises. That's right, Mr. Holmes. And there's no possibility of an accomplice. Whoever stole King Philip's salva was present at the dinner party. What's to prevent an outsider sneaking up the stairs when everyone was in the bedroom admiring Sir Stafford's medals? You forget, Watson, the portcullis had been lowered. No one could get in or out. No, the golden platter was undoubtedly still on the premises when it was found to be missing. But that's impossible. Arthur and the rest insisted on being searched too. And Sir Stafford Blodgett went over the rest of the premises himself. Very interesting, eh Watson? And yet the platter must have been there. It probably still there in the most obvious place. Why Mr. Holmes, what do you mean by that? Ever read the purloin letter, Lady Cynthia? No, I can't say I have. If you had you'd realize at once what probably happened to the platter. Yes. Watson, I suggest you and I go round to the guard house and have a chat with the incarcerated Lieutenant Ronald Blackwater. But Mr. Holmes, they won't let you see him. They won't let anyone see him. Endurance vile, eh? Yes, I'm afraid the British army doesn't always observe the rights of the individuals set forth in our common law. Especially when there's a blowhard like Sir Stafford Blodgett in charge. Oh dear, then you can't do anything for Ronnie. On the contrary, Lady Cynthia. By Tomorrow morning Dr. Watson and I shall arrive at the guard house with a note that should get us by some Peter himself. You mean Ronnie has to stay in that dreadful place another night? One more night should strengthen not weaken his case. But be of good cheer my dear. But I think I can safely promise that within 24 hours the plateau will have been found and Ronnie and all his brother officers shall have obtained full permission to marry the ladies of their respective choice. Oh Mr. Holmes, you're wonderful. Quite. My friend and I here have written permission to interview Lieutenant Ronald Backwater. And who gave it you? The rather august personage whose name is at the bottom of this pass. All right, let's have a look. Blimey, the old girl herself. And it says here you're Sherlock Holmes. Well I never mind if I keep this slip of paper and me missus will never believe me when I tell her. As you like. Come in, come in gentlemen, Please, just step inside. All right, this way. It's just a step down the corridor. Mind the floor, it's a bit uneven. Lieutenant Backwater, sir. Yes? There's a Mr. Sherlock Holmes and a Dr. Thingamabob to see you, sir. Thingamabob? Such is fame, Mr. Holmes. Who sent for you? I am acting on behalf of your fiance, the lady Cynthia St. Simon. She still wants to marry you it seems, in spite of everything. But she knows. She must know I didn't steal a silly platter. You did take it. However. Don't you think it's been missing long enough? The longer it's missing the more of a fool he'll look when they find it. Oh, I'd like to See his face when it turns up. Maybe. May not be for months. Not at all. Watson and I are about to go across to the Bywood Tower and find it for him. Good hunting, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Good hunting, Cheevers. Your name is Cheevers, I believe. Oh, yes, sir. Tell Sir Stafford that Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson have come to trace King Philip's missing trencher. Oh, you can't do that, sir. Why not? Don't tell me it's already been found. Oh no sir. Nobody's seen either air of it since I put it over there on that table by the door the night before last. Ah, just meant you couldn't see old blood the governor. Cause he's dressing for review. Always puts his medals on for a view. Rules is rules. With Sir Stepford, he don't never break any of them. Worse luck. Interesting. Very interesting. I'm afraid the illusions of the tower guards are about to be shattered. Eh Watson? I haven't the remotest idea what you're blithering about, Holmes. Uh oh, here comes old blood and Bullets himself. What's all this commotion in here? Who in blazes are you? Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Hmm, Dr. Watson. Weren't you attached to my regiment in the Second Afghan War? I joined the boxes just before my wand. Then why did you stay with him? Because my shoulder was shattered by a Jezail bullet. And you needn't shout at me. I haven't been in the army for some years now and it doesn't amuse me. Bravo, Watson. Watson. Who is this Uncuth individual? The most famous consulting detective in the entire world, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Never heard of him. Well, he's here to solve the mystery of King Philip's missing salver. Rats. I've looked everywhere. Cheevers has looked everywhere. It's not here. Oh, but it must be. It couldn't be anywhere else. You probably don't know how to look and I suppose you do. Oh, I don't have to look. I know where it is. You don't say. It's in the only place it could be. You know, young Ronald Backwater did remove it from the table. He took it with him to the bathroom and later when the bedroom was clear, he hid it in your bed. But that's preposterous. Do you think I wouldn't have noticed it when I went to bed? Oh, you would have if you slept in the bed you claim you've slept in every night since you joined the army. Shall we investigate your army cot, sir? Stafford, but I think we'll let Cheevers do it. Cheevers, would you mind bringing me the platter that's hidden in Sir Stafford's army cot? Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Sir Stafford, I strongly suspect that you are neither a Spartan nor a celibate as you claim to be. Were you? Wait. When did you get that idea? The next time you have a midnight visitor, I suggest you remind her not to leave her garter hanging on the samovar. Yes, a portcullis is a handy device to ensure privacy, isn't it? You won't. You won't Give me away, Mr. Holmes. I'd be the laughingstock of the entire British army. Think of my reputation. Think of the battles I've won. Think of the men you've browbeaten and bullied. Think of the young ladies whose hearts you've tried to break. But I'll change all that. I'll turn over a new leaf. I'll be kindness and consideration itself. Here it is, Mr. Holmes. The blinking platter. Just where you said it was. You go to places now, Sir Stafford, I mean, thank you, Chivers. Thank you very much. Well, Dr. Watson, I never thought I'd hear of Sherlock Holmes playing Cupid. And very successfully, too, Mr. Harris. There were six weddings in the Tower Chapel that June. Six. But, Dr. Watson, I thought you said only five young officers wanted to get married. Five young officers, yes. But much to everyone's surprise, Sir Stafford decided to become a Benedict as well. You never know what Sherlock Holmes will accomplish, do you? You never do, Mr. Harris. You never do. And now, Dr. Watson, what Sherlock Holmes adventure are you going to tell us next week? Let me see. Suppose I relate the rather grotesque case of the six identical plaster busts which were smashed one after another, and how murder and a fabulous duel were involved. It is, of course, the adventure of the six Napoleons. The makers of clipper craft clothes and 1036 leading stores from coast to coast have brought you another in the new series of broadcasts featuring the world's most famous detective, Sherlock Holmes. Our stories are based upon the character of Sherlock Holmes, created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes is played by John Stanley. Dr. Watson by Alfred Shirley. The dramatizations are by Edith Miser. Sherlock Holmes is produced and directed by Basil Loughran with special music by Albert Berman. If you don't know your ClipperCraft dealer, write ClipperCraft, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York City. This is Brotherhood Week. Make it work. Judge every man by his individual worth, not by some label. Don't spread any rumor against any race or Religion. And don't listen to them either. Speak up against prejudice. And for understanding. Be sure to listen next week to Sherlock Holmes in the adventure of the six Napoleon. Stay with us for Melvin Elliott and the news which follows station identification. Fly Eastern Airlines new type Constellation tried and proven with 350 million passenger miles of dependability. Fly Eastern Airlines wor New York, 7 o' clock. By Long Jean, the world's most honored watch. Along Jean Witnor product. From New York City, the makers of clipper craft clothes for men and 1036 leading retail stores from coast to coast present the world's most famous detective, Sherlock Holmes. Tonight's adventure, the case of the very best butter. Well, here we are once again on the threshold of Dr. Watson's cheerful study. The lamplight streams over the handsome bindings of his library and the fragrance of many bowls of hyacinths fills the room. The curtains move gently in a slight evening breeze. And I for one am glad to sit down and just listen. Doctor. Sounds like a bad case of spring fever. Mr. Harris. Yes, I have an idea. Tonight's story may make you forget that. 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ClipperCraft offers these amazing values even today because of the unique Clippercraft plan concentrating the buying power of 1036 of the nation's finest stores from coast to coast, making possible steady year round operation affecting tremendous savings. And in manufacturing and distribution costs, only comparison will prove what this means in money saved on your spring clothing budget. Yes, compare Clippercraft with clothes selling for many dollars more. And now Dr. Watson, back to the lady who was so interested in butter. Yes, it occurred while I was sharing lodgings with Holmes at 221B Baker Street Honest Injun. Was there ever really such an address as 221B Baker Street? Oh, this modern generation. Nothing but doubting Thomases, you know, would you believe it? There are people who go so far as to suspect that Sherlock Holmes is nothing but a figment of my imagination. Why sacrilege, Doctor. Why, it's worse than that. So, to silence all skeptics once and for all, I'd like to read a small item from that guidebook to end all guidebooks. The well known Baedeker. It's right here on the first shelf somewhere. Yes, Baedeker's Paris, Baedeker's Rome. Oh, here we are. Baedeker's London and the environs. Don't tell me Baker street is actually mentioned in Baedeker. Oh, it is indeed. Yes, I have the page marked somewhere. Yes. Melbourne Road. Queen Charlotte's Maternity Hospital. No, that's not it. Baker Street Station. Yes, there we are. Baker street, chief thoroughfare between Oxford street and Marybone Road. Mrs. Siddons lived from 1817 till her death in 1831 at number 27 Upper Baker Street. House demolished. Tablet. Lord Lytton, the novelist, was born at number 68 in 1803. Tablet. And William Pitts lived in 1802. 04 at number 120. Tablet. Sherlock Holmes also had rooms there. Don't tell me there's no tablet at 221B, Doctor. Well, not yet. Give us time. After all, Holmes is still mortal. Tablets are for the immortals, Mr. Harris. Well, that certainly should settle any doubts about Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Reality once and for all. I certainly hope so. Well, as I was saying, it was in the good old Baker street days. It was rather lateish of a gloomy afternoon. I remained indoors all day for the weather had taken a sudden turn to rain and my practice wasn't too thriving at the moment. With my body in one easy chair, my legs upon another, I listened with growing irritation to Holmes as he practiced interminable scales, roulades, glissandos and what have you on his violin. At last a particularly screeching dissonance was more than my frazzled nerves could bear. Holmes, must you do that? Calm yourself, my dear Watson. I was not responsible for that last bit of cacophony. It was caused by the scraping of a carriage wheel against our curb. Yes, we are about to receive a client. A rather portly lady of means, unless I'm very much mistaken. Oh, how can you possibly tell? You haven't even bothered to look out of the window. The outraged creak of the Carriage springs as its passenger descended to the pavement indicates a person of substance. The tap of French heels on the pavement indicates the person's a lady. And the fact that the vehicle remained at the curb indicates that it's either a private carriage or a public conveyance that's been told to wait. Either eventuality indicates a person of means. I swear I heard nothing except the first scrape against the curb. I must say Holmes, you have ears like a hawk. Your metaphor is a trifle mixed, my dear Watson, but I accept your tribute. Come in. Mr. Holmes. Mr. Holmes? Mr. Sherlock Holmes, naturally. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. How do you do? Thank heavens you're at home. You must dine with me tonight, both of you. I may need a doctor as well as a detective. Interesting. I mean, what brings you to that rather startling conclusion? I am in grave danger and you are the only person who can save me. How, madam? My husband wishes to be rid of me. I am being poisoned systematically, cold bloodedly poisoned. That is I was until I hired an old nurse of mine to do the cooking and refused to eat anything that wasn't served to everybody in the house. On a common plate part, not urine. So that if poison were pleasant, all members of your household would be in equal danger. Exactly. I'm no fool. How many members of your household are there? Mrs. I am Madame de Pavane. My husband is Pubis de Papin, the famous violinist. Oh yes, I've heard him in concert. Remarkable technique. They tell me his trills compare favourably with Paganini. Oh yes, Pubis is a great violinist. If you've heard him play, you have doubtless also seen my daughter who plays his accompaniments. My husband, my daughter Therese and myself. There are only three of us in the household. We are, I may say, the eternal triangle. Pubis is infatuated with Therese. Well, really. Your daughter, I gather Madame de Parvanne is the child of a previous man? Yes and no. As a matter of fact, she's my stepdaughter. The child of my first husband by his first marriage. Rather a complicated menage, Watson. Quite. I was a fool to marry a man so much younger than myself. But Pubis was, well, ardent. You know what These Latins are, Mr. Holmes. Swept me right off my feet. Would you believe it? He refused to eat or sleep until I named the day. It all happened in the south of France, that land of languor and romance. Oh, I see it all. The courtship, the honeymoon, the return home, the meeting with the daughter of the household, the inevitable call of youth. To youth. Pubis. Isn't that young Dr. Watson? I'm not a cradle snatcher. And besides, he'd known to raise long before I met him. She accompanied him on a concert tour. Much against my better judgment. I will say. I sometimes think their romance may have blossomed even then. Yes, but in that case, why did Monsieur de Pavannes marry you or not your stepdaughter? Because, Dr. Watson, I happen to be the one who has the money. These realistic Frenchmen, eh, Watson? Tell me, Madame de Buffon, when did you first suspect you were being poisoned? About a month ago. I began to have a marked distress after every meal. You don't think it could have been flatulence brought on perhaps by overeating? Certainly not. I have an extraordinary good digestion. Plus an excellent appetite. Obviously. I will say Puis has tried to persuade me to eat less of the fattening foods. But I tell him that here in England, men appreciate fine figure of a woman. No, Mr. Holmes. I know the difference between flatulence and a definite and even painful burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. And I can guess what causes it when I see that the weed killer I keep for the garden is disappearing in the middle of the winter. Weed killer? The dad's full of arsenic. I know that. I'm no fool. That's why I sent Panani three weeks ago to do the cooking. What a pity you didn't come to me instead. I should have enjoyed making the ranch test on the contents of your stomach. Now, of course, after three weeks, it would be very difficult to prove the presence of arsenic in your system. Short of an autopsy, of course. Well, I'm not giving anyone a chance for that. Not if I can help it. I take it you've had no further distress since your nurse was brought in to do the cooking. No, no, that I haven't. Then why do you come to me at this late date? Because I think Pubis is getting set for another try. He leaves tonight for a concert tour of the Continent. I have forbidden Therese to accompany him. But just half an hour ago I heard them plotting together. I was counting the silver in the butler's pantry when I heard them come into the dining room. They didn't know that I was listening. I don't care what she says. I can't. I won't go without you. But you'll have to, Puvis. You have a week before your first concert. You'll be able to find another accompanist in Paris. But I don't want another accompanist Therese, I want you. You know I can't do anything if you want with me. You've got to come with me. Sneak out of the house when she's not looking. But I can't do that, Puvis, dear. She'll disown me. I'll be disinherited. We'd both start. Ah, confound the woman. If she only went so big headed and so rich. I've tried to persuade her, Puvis, but she won't listen. She won't listen to words. Perhaps there are other ways of persuading people. Therese, promise me that if anything should happen, you will come to me by the next boat. Of course. But what could happen? Don't worry, I have a plan. A neat little plan. And it shouldn't take too long to work out. Hmm. A rather ambiguous conversation, if you'll permit me to speak. Say so, Madame de Papin. What makes you so sure your husband will try to poison you at dinner tonight? First, because it's his last meal at home. The boat train leaves at 9:30. And second, because I found this bottle in the waste paper basket in his study. Hmm. A pharmacist bottle with a label partly torn off, the letters P O, I S still visible. P O, I S. Holmes, if you add O N that spells poison. Brilliant. My dear Watson, positively scintillating. There seems to be a small bit of white crystalline powder still left at the bottom of the bottle. What do you make of it, Watson? Well, from the look, the smell, it might be Epsom salt. Holmes, what are you doing? Tasting it. What? Just the slightest suspicion of a taste, Watson. Yes, it's slightly acrid and metallic. That too might be Epsom salts. Want to try it, Watson? No, no, no thanks. I'm not interested in tasting anything that comes in a bottle marked poison. Perhaps you're right. Yes, I think perhaps we should try some more extensive tests before we make up our minds about the contents of this bottle. Madam, I don't care what you do, but don't be late for dinner. We dine at 7:30. The address is 49 Rathbone Place. You enter from Oxford street, it's close to Tottenham Court Road. We shall be there, madam. On the. Well, here we are, Holmes. Rathbun Place. The name sounds vaguely familiar. Yes, you may have heard me mention it, Watson. The street is named after a distant connection of mine. See? Just what did you find in the bottom of that bottle, Holmes? Antimony. Antimony? But that's deadly poison. Quite. It's also a constituent of Many crack pills. Monsieur de Pavanes may be dosing himself for anything from blood pressure to hangnails. Just the same it doesn't improve my appetite to know we're dining at a house where there's poison about. What if he gets in the wrong person's soup? Perhaps we should have brought your stomach pump. Don't be indelicate, Holmes. Personally I shall follow Madame de Pavange's example and eat or drink nothing that doesn't come from a community dish. Very sensible, Watson, very sensible indeed. Yes, here we are, number 49. Give the bell a pull Watson, there's a good chap. Right. Er, I must say there's nothing particularly sinister looking about the house, eh Holmes? Nice cheerful little ruffled curtains. Yes, the poisoners have been known to live in the most innocuous surroundings. Holmes, I do wish you'd refrain from indulging your sepulchral sense of humor. Yes sir, I. That is if Madame de Pavanne lives here. I believe we're expected. Ah, but this is a great honor. Come in gentlemen, come in. Who will believe me when I say I have the honor of entertaining the world's master detective and his amid the good doctor. Then you, you recognize us? Naturally. Who does not know the great Sherlock Holmes? Besides, my wife has taken great trouble to impress upon me just who it is she has invited to dinner. That's certainly forthright of her, eh Holmes? Madame is a forthright person. She says what she thinks even when she changes her mind. But will you not step into the parlour? We shall have a glass of sherry. Madame and her charming daughter will be down barracks. Thank you. But you know I don't think that that is not before dinner. I mean it might take away my appetite. Oh come, come Dr. Watson. It is such excellent sherry here. I pour from the decanter for you, for the great Mr. Sherlock Holmes and for myself. Oh well in that case, eh Holmes? Sunday, monsieur. To your continued good health. But what do you wait for? Bottoms up as they say. I see. You wish to see if I drink first. Very well. So you see it is quite harmless. Well that's a relief. May I say monsieur, it is no secret to me why you are here. My poor wife thinks she's being poisoned and she suspects me. Well that's dashed bank of you, I must say. Why not be frank, monsieur Doctor, I've nothing to hide. Yes, you are a medical man. You must realize that many women, particularly if they are well bred and shall we say a bit high strong when they come To a certain age they develop curious ideas. You do not know how quickly Madame Pavin recovers from her little eccentricities. You know how these things are, Dr. Watson. Oh yes, yes. I must say if the lady is suffering from. Oh well, in ide fix you're very wise to go away and give it a chance to blow over. You are planning to go alone, Monsieur de Parfums? But of course. What about an accompanist? Oh, you mean Therese? I think at this time it is best she stay with her mother. After all I do not want to leave her entirely alone. She might develop a melancholia. Very understanding of you, Monsieur de Parvarne. Ah, but I am a man of the world. I have traveled, you see. I know many women. I understand them better perhaps than you. Englishmen. Perhaps. And now if you'll excuse a moment, I must see if Madame needs my assistance. Her maid is not very strong and since Madame has put on a few pounds, she needs a man to what you call hoop her up the back. Please do for yourself more share in my absence now that you know it is safe. Well Watson, what do you make of our friend, the violinist? You know Holmes, he may be perfectly right. Madame de Pavane may be suffering from a slight form of female hysteria. Then in that case why has he booked two passages to France? See, here are the tickets sticking out from beneath this blotter. One is for tonight, the other is for a week from now. So Sherlock Holmes didn't think Monsieur Bavan was as innocent as he pretended to be. Doctor. No, Mr. Harris, don't ask me what Holmes thought. No one ever knew that, not even I, until afterwards. Well pretty soon they made announced. Hey Watson, what's that? The sherry flips you ordered Dr. Watson for you and Mr. Ayra. Oh yes, thank you Kitty. Right on cue. Well Dr. Watson, this is what I call hospitality. 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Yes, selling expensive clothes at inexpensive low prices at the nation's finest stores is the great big idea behind the clippercraft plan. That's why men who know insist on clippercraft clothes. So be sure to visit the clippercraft store in your city. These leading stores in the metropolitan area are proud to add their names to clippercraft. In your suits, top coats, sport jackets and tropicals. In Manhattan, Saks 34th Broadway. At 34th, John Wanamaker Men's Stores, Broadway. At 8th and 67 Liberty street in Brooklyn, Abraham & Strauss in Newark, NJ Boulevard. Men's Shop, Kresge, Newark. And in Jamaica, the b and B Clothes Shop, 164.08 Jamaica Avenue. Well, now that we've had our pause for refreshment, suppose we return to our story. Fair enough, doctor. As I was saying, pretty soon the pavane's little parlour maid announced dinner. Holmes and I repaired to the dining room, where we found madame de Pavanes and her stepdaughter, a rather toothy female, already seated at either end of the table. Monsieur pavane stood in back of his chair at the far side. Madame, who was ladling soup out of a large tureen, her napoleon tucked well over her bodice, turned and pointed imperiously to the two empty chairs at the near side. You sit here, Mr. Holmes, next to me, Dr. Watson. You sat there next to Therese. Oh, delighted, I'm sure. I'm afraid this soup isn't as thick as it should be. Old nanny isn't the best book in the world, but at least I know that it won't give me a stomach ache. Darling, you have such a delightful sense of humor. Soup of the evening. Beautiful soup. You know the songs from alice and on, Mr. Holmes. They have been so charmingly set to music by Lisa Lehman. Never mind. Alice in wonderland. Pubis, you may pour out the carrot. Certainly, my dear. No, not from that bottle. The one that's not been opened with a cork still sealed. Perhaps Dr. Watson will do the honors. He looked like a person who could handle a bottle. I confess quite freely that I have never been able to master that little object you call the corkscrew. Of course, if you like. Here it is. Aha. Magnificent vintage, madam. My father laid down quite a respectable cellar before he Died. Bravo. Bravo. And now to add further to the festivity of this occasion, I have a special surprise for my dear little wife. Oh, what's that? Butter. You may not know it, Mr. Holmes, but ordinarily I do not approve of butter on the dinner table. Bread, I believe, should be eaten in the continental fashion with just a pinch of salt. My wife, however, bless her dear little heart, has a weakness for butter even though it is forbidden by the doctor. However, tonight being my last meal at home and to honor two such distinguished guests, I, well, I myself went out and bought a roll of butter. And here it is in our beautiful silver butter dish. Oh, it is pretty. But I really don't think I ought. Come, come, my dear, there is no possible danger. It is all in one piece. You can cut off your portion for yourself and we will all follow suit. Does look so good. I assure you, my dear, it's the very best butter. That too is from alice in Wonderland, Mr. Hall. Oh yes, that tea party. Another, shall we say, unusual meal. Ah, delightful, delightful. Allow me, my dear, I'll cut you a piece of butter from this end. No, thank you, I'll do it myself from the other end. As you please. And now for our guests, one, two pieces. And another piece for little Therese who is almost as fond of butter as her charming mama. Oh, pubis. And last but not least, I too shall indulge. There now, my dear, if you'll pass the bread. Oh, allow me. Oh my God, Watson, how could you? You've spilled your wine all over Mr. Raisy's frock. Clumsy fool. But I wasn't anywhere near the gas. The best blue frock. Trace at the nutrition. That will do. Pubis de Razor's frock isn't that important. If it's spoiled, I'll buy her a new one. I apologize to my friend, Madame. There are times when he's like a great big Newfoundland dog. What? I know you didn't mean to, old boy. No, as my wife says. But this address, the race will have many more. I apologize if I have been hasty. My nerves, you understand, before a concert tour are always a little on the edges, as you say in English. But come, let us enjoy the meal. If I may trouble you for the bread, Mr. Holmes? Why certainly. Well, bon appetit. As you say in French. Another cup of coffee, Puvis? No, no, no, my dear, many thanks. Excellent meal. I only hope I shall not regret crossing the Channel. Let us hope that you will not regret many things crossing the Channel. A very cryptic remark, Mr. Holt, but if by Any chance anything should. Kerr, you are here to prove my conscience is clear. Ness per. Nothing like having the greatest of all detectives as a witness to one's innocence. You two may know what you're talking about but I assure you it's gibberish to the rest of us. Beg pardon madame. Yes, what is it? The master's carriage, the one he ordered to take him to the station is waiting outside. Yes, I must not miss my train. Pardon my hasty departure but you know how it is my dear. Did you pack my goggle? It's in your medicine case with your tooth wash and your hair tonic and your bismuth and your eye wash. My husband, Mr. Holmes is a veritable traveling chemist shop. I hope he carries the antidotes for all of his medicines. Antidotes? You speak in parables Mr. Holmes. And why should I use an antidote? I have merely one of my wretched sore throats. Coming. Ah well of where Dr. Watson? Of where Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Bon voyage Monsieur de Pavan. Morning Holmes. Morning. Well I must say that was a curious dinner party last night. It was for breakfast. Kippers and don't panophilize them. Tasty. Well I gather Madame de Provence survived the evening. I left word that she was to send for me immediately if she felt the slightest qualms. If you ask me Monsieur de Pavin was quite correct in his diagnosis. Pass the tersely. The old girl's stomach aches and suspicions were probably a mild form of female hysteria. I wasn't concerned in the least for Madame de Pavane's safety, Watson. It was her husband I rather wondered about. What do you mean? You haven't read the morning papers I take it. Here, take a look at this item. Famous violinist dies in channel crossing. Pierce de Beauvais succumbs to nausea and convulsions. Good Lord. What? Yes, I rather thought he might. As I suspected the butter was poisoned. Antimony Poisoned? Careful Watson, you spilled your coffee. But I ate some of that butter. You ate some of it, so did everyone else. Calm yourself. The poison was all in the end portion where Monsieur de Parbannes so carefully put it. The piece that Madame de Pavanne cut off for herself. Yes, but he offered her the other end. Naturally Watson, he knew she'd be contrary. Monsieur de Parvannes was a very shrewd judge of his wife's character. Great Scotch. Suppose she hadn't turned it around? One of the rest of us might have had the poisoned slice. No Watson. I rather imagine if that had happened Monsieur de Pavanne would have continued serving from the harmless end and left the poisoned bit instead of serving from the other end. It was this, shall we say, change of direction that made me suspect he was up to no good. Yes, but look here, Holmes, it still doesn't make sense. It wasn't Madame de Pavanes who died, it was her husband. Naturally. Why do you think I upset that glass of claret over the daughter's dress? I might have known it was you. I did it in order to create a diversion so I could shift Monsieur and Madame's butter plates without anyone being the wiser. Of course, even there was no proof that the butter was poisoned. I did it just in case. Then you didn't actually know the butter was poisoned until you read the morning's paper? Oh no, Watson. But antimony, as you doubtless remember, is rather a slow acting poison. One of the first symptoms, however, is a soreness of the throat. I suspected the little Frenchman had taken a dose of his own poison when he inquired about his gargle. That's why I advised him to use an antidote, remember? You think he understood that warning? Quite. Then why didn't he take the antidote? He knew we were onto him, Watson. Rather than face the consequences of his crime, he decided to let nature take its course. Yes. Spear me another kipper, Watson, if you can spare it. Well, that was a lurid dinner party, Dr. Watson. Yes, Mr. Harris. Meals with Sherlock Holmes were often rather rough on the nervous system. Oh, the doses of bicycle I used to consume. Well that's neither here nor there. I dare say you would like to inquire about next week's story, Mr. Harris? That's right, Dr. Watson. What are we to have next week? No more poison butter, that I can promise you. No, next week. I think I'll tell you how Holmes and I encountered a strange 17th century highwayman on the wilds of Hampstead Heath. He was known as Jack o' Lantern because he carried a lighted skull for a lantern. There was another jack in the story as well, a jack of diamonds. The makers of clipper craft clothes and 1036 leading stores from coast to coast have brought you another in the new series of broadcasts featuring the world's most famous detective, Sherlock Holmes. Our stories are based upon the character of Sherlock Holmes created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes is played by John Stanley, Dr. Watson by Alfred Shirley, and the dramatizations are by Edith Miser. Sherlock Holmes is produced and directed by Basil Ochran with special music by Albert Berman. If you don't know your clipper craft dealer, write clippercraft, 200 fifth avenue, new york city. Be sure to listen next Sunday to Sherlock Holmes in the Return of the Jack of Diamonds. Mr. Sy Harris speaking for Clipper Craft H this is the Mutual Broadcasting System. We just heard the new Adventures of Sherlock Holmes starring Tom Conway, Nigel Bruce, John Stanley and Alfred Shirley. That will do it for today's show. Thanks so much for joining me. I'll be back next Sunday with more Old time Radio Detectives. But before that, I hope you'll tune in later this week for a pair of bonus episodes. First, on Wednesday, it's an encore presentation of our Thanksgiving special, a collection of Turkey Day mysteries starring a set of old time radio detectives. We've got Adventures of Casey, crime photographer Jeff Regan, investigator and more. And then at the end of the week, we'll celebrate Black Friday with Joe Friday in a bonus show featuring a collection of episodes of Dragnet. In the meantime, you can check out Stars on Suspense, my other old time radio podcast. New episodes of that show are out on Thursdays. All this month, we've been spotlighting the stars of a film noir classic. Coming up this week, we'll hear Fred McMurray, Barbara Stanwyck and Edward G. Robinson in episodes of Suspense and an old time radio recreation of Double Indemnity. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show in Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com Meansts OTR I'll be back on Wednesday with some Thanksgiving themed radio mysteries. But until then, good night and happy listening. Now here is our star, Vincent Price. 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 extreme, 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.