Sherlock Holmes - Canary Trainer

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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 Wynne

brings you. Basil Raphon and Nigel Bruce in the new adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

The Petri family the family that took time to bring you good wine invites you to listen to Dr.

Watson tell us about another exciting adventure. He shared with his old friend that master detective

Sherlock Holmes saying I've got a little something to tell you myself. I want to tell you that if you

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And now let's drop in on our good friend Dr. Watson. Good evening, Dr.

Good evening, Mr. Foreman. Where are the puppies tonight? Well, I found them playing with a dead

seagull so they've been sent up to bed and disgrace me. You certainly look comfortable yourself,

Dr. Oh, what's that small blue book you're reading, man? Latest bestseller? No, no, no, indeed not.

This book was never a bestseller, my boy. It's entitled Practical Handbook of the Culture.

There's some observations on the segregation of the Queen. Quite a catchy title. Who's the author?

Another by the name of the Sherlock Holmes. He was engaged in writing it when the adventure

I'm going to tell you about took place. When you told us last week, Dr. that a pair of canaries

played an important part in the story. That's quite right, Mr. Foreman. It was in the summer of

1908, I remember. And I've persuaded Holmes to leave his Sussex V farm for a few weeks,

and to join me in a holiday, the little fishing village of Kingsgate in Kent. We were staying

at a charming little inn called the Fisherman's Arms. And for the first few days, our holiday was

the light blue one. And then? And then I suppose Dr. Strange Things began to happen.

They did indeed, Mr. Foreman. They did indeed. That is Strange Things. One afternoon, we just finished

the late tea, I remember. And we're sitting outside on the lawn, sunning ourselves, and enjoying our

pipe. Holmes laid back, his long thin fingers cast behind his head, gazing softly at the multi-coloured

fishing boat, bobbing it anchor in the harbor. After a moment or two, he's first to make.

Not in your last minute companion. I can't think of anyone else who would let me

swap my piping silence to half an hour without asking me what I'm thinking about.

That's not the surprising Holmes, after all the years that they've been together.

Nevertheless, the gift is aware when I'm in the chat, and I appreciate it.

Oh, thank you all. By the way, since the half hour's up, what have you been thinking about?

Like a vendor prize of a modern criminal, while they're sitting in a remantene to have passed

forever from the criminal world. Read this note, I received this morning, Othello.

Speak to yourself how low I have sang. Oh, it's too low.

It's the home. I am staying in the same inn as your self, and as I have had a very frightening experience.

I thought perhaps you would help me please do. It's a very bitter and exciting document, isn't it?

But non-undernote people are reaching a person on the handwriting, is obviously that of an adolescent girl.

You haven't bothered to answer, of course. Oh, yes, I have. I've been to message it back by our

good landlord, and I was glad to see her. Why, home? Came down here to compete your handbook on

beef farming. Oh, I can't find it. There's too much of a canary, is it? Getting there a sunbathe

on the windowsill above us. Oh, we can throw the jollet at others, fellas. Chirping away up there.

I find the sound must be striking. Let's go inside.

You know, home's those birds owned by a charming couple, and Mr. and Mrs. Wayne Wright.

I was chatting with them on the stairs this morning, and I felt that charm will escape me as long as

their pets continue to speak in that irritating manner. I was spoken of a peace and quiet

of the country in Watson, and yet I found it. Come in. Ah, this merry victor I presume.

Yes, Mr. Holmes. Please come in, chose the door, won't you?

Thank you. This might prevent Dr. Watson. You may speak quite brilliant in front of him.

How do you do, sir? How do you do, doctor?

Ah, sit down, young lady, and tell me what's troubling you.

Mr. Holmes, I came down here from London to get away from someone, but I'd been followed.

I've been afraid of me at the end, until last night I felt like couldn't stand being

cooked up any longer, so I went for a walk in the sea shore. Someone followed me in

Mr. Holmes. I ran back here as fast as I could, but now he knows where I live.

When I'm frightened, please help me. Now, Mr. Victor, I'm afraid you must be much more specific

before I can help you. Who has followed you down here, and why are you afraid of him?

I'll tell you the whole story. It'll sound strange to you, but I swear it.

I'll do it again down by the gate. I'm going to my room.

No, no, no, no. Don't keep fighting, Mr. Victor. I'm sure we'll be.

That's all. It's not a thing.

I don't see anyone outside who might fight in the room. There's two or three fishermen

lodging about. Wait a minute. Here's a young fellow walking at the path. Come on, Watson.

Answer to the French windows, please.

Congratulations, mate. Here we go again.

I think we'll take the liberty of accosting him.

Excuse me, sir.

Are you looking for Mr. Mary Victor?

Is she young and pretty?

Yes, sir. She is.

Excuse me, sir.

Then I'm looking for her. Where can I find her?

I can see you're being possessive, sir.

Well, there's no harm in that, is there?

But away, who are you, gentlemen, may I ask?

My name is Holmes, and this is my friend, Dr. Watson.

I'm Basil Carter.

You're not Sherlock Holmes, are you?

That is my name.

I thought you seemed familiar.

I know your brother, Mike Carter.

Indeed.

Then I presume you're connected to the foreign office.

Yes, I'm in the consular service.

Are you staying at the Il Young Man?

For a few days,

it's funny that I should run into the great Sherlock Holmes.

I am ours.

I was planning a murder.

But remember him here.

I see that I shall have to be very discreet.

Who is your intimate man, Gua?

There are two of them.

The two collaries in the room next to mine.

The moment I thought that you were in it, sir.

But I am serious.

The wretched creature is immediately riding the mask.

I quite sympathize with you, sir.

I've been thinking of committing a slight kiss

of mayhem under myself.

We can take one a piece, Mr. Holmes.

Well, I'm glad to have met you both.

I hope they see you again.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr. Gilbert.

I don't like that fellow Holmes.

If you ask me, he's man who's been fighting

with the poor girl that came with us.

He couldn't look on his face.

When you asked me, he was looking for a male victor.

There was only one person who can step on the question

and that's the young lady herself.

Come on, old fellow.

Let's go back and look.

Here comes Wayne Wright, the owner's canary, sir.

Good evening, Mr. Wayne Wright.

What do you think, gentlemen?

This is my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

I'm on it to meet you, sir.

How do you do, Mr. Wayne Wright?

Beautiful, evening, isn't it?

I just took a stroll down to the store

for to get some more birdseed.

By the way, Mr. Holmes, I hope our canaries don't bother you.

Little fellas are such comfort to my wife and me.

Oh, no.

Not at all, sir.

I find that tripping very soothing.

Why?

I'm so glad.

Good night, gentlemen.

Good night, sir.

Good night, Mr. Wilson.

Not Wilson, Mr. Holmes.

Wayne Wright.

I beg your pardon.

I'm so sorry.

I thought you said Wilson.

Good night.

Good night.

Not like you to mix up names, Holmes.

I didn't mix them up, old fellow.

I'd never forget a face.

Mr. Wayne Wright is in reality Wilson,

the notorious canary trainer,

might the pleasure of sending to prison

for a seven-year stretch of 95.

A few years later,

you need well enough spectacular escapes from prison

in the history of crime,

and to since managed to evade all threats to recapture him.

It's cut.

He seems to sweet over.

Oh, possibly he's reformed, but I doubt it.

Our stage is set for an intriguing problem, old chap,

and our cast is an interesting one.

A frightened young girl,

a diplomat of uncertainty,

and a notable criminal, Watson.

I have a feeling that once again, the game is a foot.

Holmes, why are we strolling along the pier

and set the string at the end?

I thought you said that you would expect in trouble.

I have, old chap,

and I'm sure it will find us out.

You know Holmes, I'm still completely mystified.

By the behaviour of that girl, many victor,

I knocked at her door last evening again this morning.

I couldn't get any answer,

and the landlord told me that she was not seen at dinner last night

nor at breakfast this morning,

and yet her room had not been vacated.

Curious.

Hello, the village constable,

stunning himself at the end of the pier.

Good morning, Sergeant Blake.

Mr. Halt, stop the Watson.

How are you, gentlemen?

Miss, thank you, Sergeant,

and very appreciative of the weather that you've provided for us.

Oh, thank nothing, I would say.

We always arranged it for our really distinguished visitors.

By the way, Mr. Halt,

I was reading one of your friend's stories about you last night.

The one called,

The Adventure of Mysteria Lodge.

That was a...

Mysteria Lodge who you foolishly heard.

No, maybe it was.

Anyway, I was reading it aloud to me, old woman.

And if you doubt mine my day in, sir, Mr. Halt,

we both thought you made a bad mistake.

There was, of course, you come out all right in the end.

Give me Sergeant Istand, reprieve.

Excuse us, Sergeant Holmes, Holmes, look.

Look at that figure standing by itself, right at the end of the pier.

Our friend Wilson, the canary trainer.

He's got a revolver.

Here, here we don't want any of these going on in King's eye.

Come on.

Here you.

What are you doing, leaving the revolver in the back?

He's back with three of you.

I'm in law here.

Now tell me what to do.

That guy's a...

I'm not afraid to fire.

Don't do as he says, Sergeant.

You don't want to try for with?

Just exactly what are you up to, Wilson?

You caught up with me once again, Sherlock Holmes.

But this time you're not going to send me back to a prison again.

And maybe the gallows, if I can't escape you.

And I'll take my own way out with this revolver.

Wilson, what in thunder are you talking about?

A murder at the end last night.

I did it.

Murder?

Confessing in front of the three of you.

Or you'll leave my wife alone.

She didn't know anything about it.

Now, I hope you're satisfied, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

And for you, the revolver is a harsher.

You fool!

Stop it!

Start me think.

He done it over the pavement into the sea.

Get out, Sergeant.

It's police and dead.

Back it.

Come on, Watson.

Permit, Leon, ourselves.

Boss, we are.

Just heard a murder confession.

But we don't know who has been murdered.

Oh, what was the telegram that you sent off just now?

A message to my brother, my car.

We can keep it in form.

May the dazzle cast of the young diplomat move met yesterday.

You know about 100 years in the early hours of this morning.

Come on, let's go upstairs.

Well, we'd have to break the news to Mrs. Wayne right as well.

Before we do that, I think we'll see if this victor's in her room.

Which one is it?

Here, top of the stairs.

This will take the liberty of looking in.

The victor has been seen since last night.

Uh-huh.

I'm locked.

You know what, what a mess.

That was two and all over the place.

Open the suitcases.

Look, that is a bit young lady.

I've been planning on immediate departure.

What did you be?

Oh, I'm seen her since last night.

It's okay.

All right.

Oh.

How are they, dear pardon, gentlemen?

I thought I had many tips to come in.

Mrs. Wayne, aren't you?

Mrs. Wayne, are you?

I'm, uh,

afraid we have to roll the-

roll the bad news for you.

Your husband's shot himself a quarter of an hour ago at the end of the

pier and his body fell into the sea.

Is he dead?

We must presume so, madam.

I let the police sergeant bear searching for him.

Sergeant Blake should be back here in a moment now.

How he did it.

After all.

Didn't seem the surprise, madam.

And he's threatened to do it.

Mrs. Wayne, right, before your husband's shot himself,

he confessed committing a murder in this inn last night.

A murder?

Who is murder?

The moment we're not quite sure.

Oh, you must have been out of business.

Mrs. Wayne, right.

I'm afraid I must ask you some other painful questions.

You were aware that your husband was a criminal,

but he served a prison sentence under the name of Wilson.

Yes, I knew that.

He told me when we were married two years ago.

But he said that he'd gone straight ever since he'd come out of prison.

That's why he changed his name.

He was trying to make a fish start.

You know no reason for his playing to kill anyone at the scene?

None.

And unless you find someone murdered,

I wouldn't get too much thought to it.

Yes, if you'll forgive my thanks, your madam,

you seem remarkably unmoved by your husband's tragedy.

I should have pretend.

We were very happy together.

This might be the best way out of it for both of us.

My husband came quite a large amount of life insurance.

In the event of suicide,

but that's terrible.

And so the policy met him.

And I must say that from your attitude,

I begin to doubt that your husband is dead.

What do you mean?

I mean that if Mr Wilson or if you prefer it,

Mr. Wainwright wish to disappear in spectacular style.

One could be simpler than to pretend to shoot himself

off into the sea.

No, no, no, no.

I'm up here, Sergeant.

Ah, did you find him?

Yes, Mr. Am.

He fished him out right away.

Yet he's a doorknob.

Shot himself to the end, he did.

Oh, that's the spurs of your lust.

Still at home.

Did you find the revolver, Sergeant?

Yes, ma'am.

Got it right here with me.

One bullet mission.

You found out it.

Anyone is been murdered, Mr. Owl?

I found out that it was yet.

Wait a moment.

Listen, I don't hear any.

Actually, you hear nothing.

Yet we're within a two feet of the Wainwright's room.

What's your name, Mr. Owl?

I've seen that there is one sound we should be hearing

very clearly at the moment.

Why did I think it before?

The sound that your canary is terrific.

You heard it last for days.

Come on, Watson.

Where are you going?

The old one, madam.

I'm afraid I'm just dispensed with asking your permission.

You're already in my room.

It seems a little light even to mention the subject.

Here's the birdcage and the willister.

The holly.

There's the gun.

No, O'Chatt.

If you look more closely, you'll see them

on the bottom of the cage.

Let me open this door and get one of them out.

I go home.

They're dead.

And that when we entered the inn a few minutes ago,

they were still still sleeping.

But who on earth would want to kill a couple of birds?

That, my dear fellow, is one of the things

we have to find out.

So far, I must admit I'm puzzled.

We have a self-confessed murderer.

And the curious thing we can find to our cops

is a pair of dead canaries.

We'll bring you the rest of Dr. Watson's story in just a second.

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And I'll back to tonight's new Sherlock Holmes adventure.

Strange events are taking place

in the Kentish fishing village of King's Gate.

A self-confessed murderer has committed suicide,

but his victim cannot be found.

As we rejoin our story,

the great detective and his old friend Dr. Watson

are once again examining the room of Mary Victor,

one of the missing guests.

You know how from the murder that Wilson confessed

to before he committed suicide,

might be in the killing of those two canary.

I think not all that.

Wilson obviously loved the creatures

and kept them in spite of the fact

that they were dangerously after identifying

with his criminal past.

Huh?

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Huh?

What do you find?

There's no light.

What do you find?

There's no light on the Victor's dressing table.

Yeah.

So, look,

you think you can hide from Mary,

but you can't.

Wherever I go, I shall follow you.

So, why not get wise to yourself

and stop running away?

Huh?

Sounds just the poor girl was in danger, all right?

Probably, but the writer of that note

puts me obliging.

So, the letter is unsigned.

It at least gives us a clue

to his identity.

The phrase gets wise to yourself.

It's very un-English.

It's American.

Come on, chap.

Where are we going now?

The envelope to this letter.

Have the King's Gate first not on it.

I should be surprised if that sound of all knowledge

the very firstness of this can't help us find

an American visitor.

Yes, I know the young man.

You must still have been warned

he's been here to send telegrams.

And he's acting so strong you could cut it through the knife.

It just like one of the Vietnamese

English read about you.

Tell me where he lives, madam.

Oh, the Hick answer.

He's being rumored in Mrs. Bill's house.

A 15-lebanum grove.

A dom behind the guest room.

15-lebanum grove, Mrs. Bill.

Thank you.

Thank you very much, John.

Very much obliged to you.

Mrs. Bill?

Yes, sir. What can I do for you, gentlemen?

I understand that Mr. Walter Bunker has been saying

with you, madam.

Yes, sir.

A nice young American, gentlemen.

Is he at home, may I ask?

No, sir.

And I'm worried about him.

This morning when he goes out,

he asks me what nearest cemetery is.

A cemetery?

It is me, huh?

I tell him.

And then he gives a quick kind of laugh.

I'm not sure after you anymore, he says.

And then he walks off and I haven't seen him seen.

I tell you why I'm worried about him, gentlemen.

My weather is the nearest cemetery, Mrs. Bill,

the one you directed into.

About three miles from here.

Just decided by some wood.

Thank you, madam.

Come on, Watson.

The cemetery seems deserted.

It's really coming from the church.

We know this is a funeral.

What a wedding.

Come on.

Thank you.

It is a wedding home.

A baby on the post-trail.

But we didn't make sure.

Why are you looking at me, please?

The ceremony is just ending.

Just one question.

You've done me the names of the comforters.

Is there anything to have from me again?

And the young American,

by the name of Duncan.

Thank you.

Yes, we have been following a post-trail compounded.

The fighting young lady was milled,

fighting by her persistent American fiancee.

A threatening lift of the decenter.

And he was still worried.

When you come to think of it.

Anyway, we can cease to worry about this victor.

She is now Mrs. Duncan.

I think we can assume that she's out of danger.

Oh, we've got to start all over again.

Oh, no, no, my dear fellow.

My field is narrowing.

We'll head back for the inn now.

And I have a feeling that we are on the last lap of our

strange adventure.

Yes, she has another suspect eliminated.

This tip ran us from my brother, my craft.

And I telegraphed him earlier on today.

Check on the movements of the nasal calmer,

the young man who left the inn,

some mysteriously in the early hours of the morning.

His answering forms meant that the gentleman in question

was recalled to the foreign office,

suddenly, and arrived right safely, if you ask, go.

Oh, no, no.

I'm not going to let you go.

I'm not going to let you go.

I'm not going to let you go.

I'm not going to let you go.

I'm not going to let you go.

I'm not going to let you go.

I'm not going to let you go.

I'm not going to let you go.

Oh, no, I'm completely puzzling.

And I hope on length.

I'd love to see daylight.

Wish I did, Mr. Halfcher.

Beassos and get midlands.

Have the live assasins 50 found?

With the absorbing tutes.

What do you put me, Mr. Ames?

If it's met him, you and Sergeant Blake make yourselves comfortable.

Now, in the first place the murder occurred this morning and not last night.

I know what you're thinking of. The canaries. I've never killed them.

But you can't do anything to me for that.

Why did you kill those birds?

I hated them, as much as my husband loved them.

When I knew he was dead, there seemed to be mad.

So I killed them.

I killed them. I've been already dead. When we told you the husband's suicide.

Oh, what's him? The lady was fully aware that our husband was dead.

When we informed her of the fact you see she murdered him.

You're talking rubbish.

Yes, Mr. Ames. How could she have murdered him?

We'd so ensued himself before our eyes.

Because when Wilson raised that revolver to his head, he was convinced that he contained blank cartridges.

Unfortunately for him, his wife had deliberately replaced the blanks with live cartridges.

It was great him. Why? How?

Let me reconstruct the case for you.

Wilson, with the conniving of his wife here, had consigned the disappearance plot.

He knew that I had spotted his real identity and so he planned this rather dramatic exit.

Confessed with a non-existent murder and then, well, had his plan materialized, he was to shoot himself

with a bank, fall from the pier and a palancer's eye.

What a fantastic team. How did he plan to get away?

Well, even a small amount of the water, safe distance and so many is escaped.

Oh, his plan couldn't be worthwhile.

No, probably not. Probably not. But at least it was ingenious. He would have destroyed his true identity.

And had his revenge on me by making the search for a murder that had never been committed.

Unfortunately for him, his wife, which is a compass and saw in the scheme an excellent way of killing her husband.

You think you're so very clever, Mr. Ames, but if it were true, how could you prove it?

Observe this revolver, Mrs. Wilson. It's for when your husband shot himself with.

What can you prove from that?

At a head of fingerprint tests, I've had of them.

But that revolver's been underwater.

True, quite true. But thanks to the research by excellent friend Dr. John Fondike,

an infallible test has been discovered for recording fingerprints even after a motion in seawater.

I applied the test to the prints on the revolver and the bullets and compared them with some that we found on the worker's life in your room.

They are the same, Mrs. Wilson.

Now does a man let his wife load his suicide weapon, Sergeant Blake?

I think it's obvious that the time has come for you to take over the case.

All right. All right, so I did change the bill.

It's like I hated them. I'm glad you said.

What's my juice again?

Mr. Ames.

Yes, Sergeant Blake?

Now that I've taken Mrs. Wilson to the station, booked her on a murder charge,

I wonder if you'd mind answering a question.

What, sir?

And this is a fingerprint test.

I'd like to know about that.

I've never heard of being able to take prints after a revolver has been handled two or three times and soaked in saltwater.

And I'd like to know when you perform the test, the prints off the glass in the room,

I thought that I was with you all the time.

You were my dear fellow.

Well, then I wouldn't give you the answer in one word.

Bluff.

Huh?

There is no such test, Mario Watson.

It would be almost impossible to expect clothes after so much handling and to clear muscle after submission.

Fortunately for us, though, Mrs. Wilson was juggle enough to believe me and give me a confession.

And there's no such person as Dr. John Fonda?

Oh, yes, yes, indeed it is.

A great confession this year, in the case of the red mark.

You didn't tell me about that case, no?

No, no, I didn't. It was deliberate, oh, yeah.

With your test for writing sensational stories, I was afraid you might publish the affair.

Who did you marry to?

Oh, yes it was.

You'd have given away, once I say, professional secrets.

You'd have provided the public and in particular the criminal public with a complete education on footprints.

And when that happens, my dear Watson, we shall have no trick left.

That will be a sad day for detectives.

Today's Sherlock Holmes adventure is written by Dennis Green and Anthony Boucher,

and is based on an incident in the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story, The Adventure of Wisteria Law.

Mr. Rathbone appears to the courtesy of Metro Golden Mayor and Mr. Bruce, the courtesy of Universal Pictures,

where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series.

The factory wine company of San Francisco, California invites you to tune in again next week, same time, same station.

This is Bill Forman saying, good night for the factory family. Sherlock Holmes comes to you from our Hollywood studio.

This is the mutual broadcasting system.

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Warning, the following Zippercruder radio spot you are about to hear is going to be filled with F words.

When you're hiring, we at Zippercruder know you can feel frustrated, for Lauren even.

Like your efforts are futile, and you can spend a fortune trying to find fabulous people, only to get flooded with candidates or just... fine.

F**k!

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At Zippercruder.com slash Zipp, with Zippercruder you can forget your frustration,

because we find the right people for your role fast, which is our absolute favorite effort.

In fact, 4 out of 5 employers who post on Zippercruder get a quality candidate within the first day.

Fantastic!

So, whether you need to hire 4, 40, or 400 people, get ready to meet first straight talent.

Just go to Zippercruder.com slash Zipp to try Zippercruder for free.

Don't forget that's Zippercruder.com slash Zipp.

Finally, that's Zippercruder.com slash Zipp.

Warning, the following Zippercruder radio spot you are about to hear is going to be filled with F words.

When you're hiring, we at Zippercruder know you can feel frustrated, for Lauren even.

Like your efforts are futile, and you can spend a fortune trying to find fabulous people, only to get flooded with candidates or just... fine.

F**k!

Fortunately, Zippercruder figured out how to fix all that.

And right now, you can try Zippercruder for free at Zippercruder.com slash Zipp.

With Zippercruder, you can forget your frustration, because we find the right people for your role fast, which is our absolute favorite effort.

In fact, 4 out of 5 employers who post on Zippercruder get a quality candidate within the first day.

Fantastic!

So, whether you need to hire 4, 40 or 400 people, get ready to meet first rate talent.

Just go to Zippercruder.com slash Zipp to try Zippercruder for free.

Don't forget that's Zippercruder.com slash Zipp.

Finally, that's Zippercruder.com slash Zipp.