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Sherlock Holmes - Headless Monk

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Sherlock Holmes - Headless Monk

Classic Radio Detectives

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Classic Radio DetectivesSherlock Holmes - Headless Monk. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.

Petri wine brings you as the last bone of Nigel Bruce in the new adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The Petri family, the family that took time to bring you good wine, invite you to listen to Dr. Watson tell us another exciting adventure he shared with his old friend, that master detective Sherlock Holmes. And as for me, well I'd like to tell you the easiest way I know to get the reputation of being the perfect host. Next time friends come over for dinner, before you sit down to the table, serve glasses of Petri California Sherry. Petri Sherry is the best beginning a good meal ever had. I say Petri Sherry because Petri Sherry is extraordinary Sherry. You can tell by looking at it, folded to the light, notice how clear it is. Notice its beautiful deep amber color, and you can tell Petri Sherry is unusual from just a whip of its fragrance.

And of course in the last analysis you can tell just how fine a wine Petri Sherry is by teaching it. That's the best test of all. And that's where you'll get the most pleasant surprise because Petri Sherry really is wonderful. A flavor right from the heart of the great. So serve Petri Sherry to your family and your friends and serve it properly. Because the name Petri is the proudest name in the history of American wines. And now I'm sure our good friend Dr. Watson is expecting us, let's not keep him waiting. Good evening Dr. Good evening Mr. Bartella, you forgive me if I don't get up close to my boy. Poor Dr. what's the matter I had touched your rheumatism? No no, 318 holes of golf today. I hope that when I'm your age Dr. I can be half as bright like you. Oh nice of you but if you don't mind we won't discuss the question by age.

So drop your chair and make yourself comfortable. I'll get on with tonight's new Sherlock Holmes adventure. Well from the hands you gave us last week it sounded like quite a spooky story. It was about a failure to certainly world. Towards the end of November in the 1895, a dense yellow fog could settle down over London. For four or five days it was impossible from our rooms and baking speech to see the outline of houses up to a real London piece over. Yes my boy and it's game most pressing. The first day at home that spent in cross-indexing is huge book of criminal references. The second and third have been patiently occupied with a subject which he recently made his hobby. The music of the Middle Ages. But when on the fourth day I was pushing back our chairs off the breakfast. We saw the greasy heavy browns were still drifting past us and condensing an oily drops upon the window panes. Sherlock Holmes an impatient and active nature could enjoy this crab existence no longer. He faced arrests to stay about our sitting room, chasing against the enactment.

After several minutes of these regulations he turned to me first. Living at interest in the favour of Watson? A beautiful revolution? A possible war? Living at a fairly change in the government? Nothing to interest you though. So crimes are very important. The London criminal is certainly a doppler and unentiprising fellow these days. Look out of the window Watson. She has a figure's room out. A dimly seen and then blend once more into the foggy depths. What a day for a fee for a murderer. It will be London as the tiger does the jungle. Unseen until he pounces and then. If it hadn't only it would have been... A peaceful thought I must have. I wonder who that is? Probably a visitor for Mrs. Hudson. Perhaps the local plumbers finally can't descend at the pace of a tusson to the faulty guest-ject in our hallway. I do think you're right on either count. I can hear Mrs. Hudson's footsteps on the stairs. Come in. Come in. Yes, Mrs. Hudson, what is it? Oh, excuse me, Mr. Holmes. But there's a gentleman to see you.

Says it's most important and he hasn't to give you this car. Oh, secure. Well, the Mahalya. Fill him up, Mrs. Hudson. Very good. What about Mahalya and who is he? I've not had the pleasure of meeting him personally, but I'm quite familiar with his scientific practitioners. Scientific? Oh, and what does he specialize? Oh, I am. I suppose one of my professors is one of the greatest authorities and all matters connected me up out. Do you mean the fellow dabbles in the supernatural stuff and all that sort of thing? I mean, maybe I watch him that... What a Mahalya is an extremely intelligent hammer. That only comprehensive and scholarly knowledge of his field and an intense belief in the existence of the supernatural boss. I hear you speak for himself. Oh, come in, Mahalya. Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Hey, you're on Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Yes, sir. This is my colleague, Dr. Watson. How do you do, Mr. Mahalya? How do you do, Dr.? Well, two-set-goals, sir. Thank you. Well, two fellows probably wondering who I am and what's brought me here. Well, I'm not wondering who you are, Mr. Halle.

My friend Holmes is just telling me of your scientific eminent. Ah, and that's what you know of me, Holmes. Just the same. You're wondering why I'm here. Naturalist, sir? Well, since you know I'm a student of near Calt, I'll get right down to my problem. Mr. Holmes, have you ever heard of the headless monk of Pervenish Chapel? Foyers indeed, Mr. Halle. And after this, the big counted among our more intangible national treasures, I should say. I'm sorry, I took their stupids, but I have never heard of the headless monk of Pervenish Chapel. Well then, let me tell you about it, Dr. Watson. What would you wish? The Finnish manor, in Cornwall, was once an abbey. It was expropriated during the reign of Henry VIII, and several of the monks were killed in some of the minor difficulties of tenements on such an act. But one of the murdered monks, a certain rather few, the chapel organist, was persistent. He still wants the chapel today. He still plays the organ, and since he was beheaded, he always appeared. It's charming little legends, but you don't expect this to believe it's anything but a legend.

Oh, yeah. Steptick, eh? How about you, so? I'll experiment curious to know why you come to see me, Mr. Hollis. I tell you why. I have a rare opportunity to investigate the phenomena. You see, the son of an old friend of mine, young fellow by the name of Leonard Miles, is set put to the owner of the Venice Manor. He asked me to stay there, and I find the invitation is visible, particularly since the phenomena have curiously increased to late Mr. Holmes, almost as though some more... ...mortal agency were motivating the nun. Now I see why you've come to me, Mr. Hollis. I knew you would, Holmes. You see, I'm like my good friend and fellow investigator, Khan Hackley. I believe in being prepared to meet the phenomena on either the natural or the supernatural plane. The phenomena are real, they fall legitimately inviting. As far as if, as I'm sure you suspect, they are being complicit by human forces, and you think that's what might happen, eh, Holmes? What do you say, Holmes? The football would be a nice few days, we'd probably escape the fog down there.

Ah, places with the weather once. Huh? I'm much more concerned with the fog that surrounds the appearances of a headless monk of the Venice Chapel. Mr. Hollis, I accept all invitation with pleasure. Still a time to catch the cornish express. We can be a Venice manor before the mootah. Hello? Who's this funny looking front coming down the steps towards this? If I didn't hear the sundafery sports dip, I'd believe it was a psychic manor's station. Certainly, it looks as if he came from beyond the grave. Obey, gentlemen, we'll be going. The person you tell us who you are first, my good man. Obey, aye. I be David Ben-Dragon, sir. That's who I be. Stable and tear the manner. I ask you, gentlemen, again, where you'll be going. We're staying at the manor, and we're just going to take a look at the chap. Oh, don't he do that, sir? People that go in there don't often come out the way they go in, sir. Don't he do it, gentlemen?

What are you talking about, my good fellow? I be talking about the goolies and the ghosties and the organ music that comes out of nowhere. You, you heard it? Of course I heard it, sir. Just like I seen the poor monk walking around without his head on. He doesn't see the chap on with you. I feel as way you saw that. I eat. That's why we're not. Not for all the gold in port-core will I go back and chance seeing the poor lustful, wondering about without his head on. Gentlemen, no, what's good for you? You're not going there either. Mark my words. Don't he go in that chap. Lord, I just... He's really frightened in the place. He is. But it's more than blinding the superstition that it comes for his reluctant. Hey, that's going very well. All right, suppose it's all right. Great Scott, listen to that. The organ. Ghosts praying, we have extremely fortunate. I psychic manifestation, miss, miss, we enter.

Remarkable psychic manifestation, rubbish. Look who's sitting at the keyboard, his home. Homes. What's the matter, Walter? What's the matter? You factness the death, did he, Harley? First speaking for myself, Dr. Redis supported me. I thought it was a genuine phenomenon. What do you think you're doing, Holmes? I thought you were still behind us. I'm sorry if I'd like you once. I'm curious about this organ. I slipped in by the side door, a hit of you, and tested the instrument. It's in astonishingly good condition for a disused chapel. Don't you think, Harley? Yes, I do, Holmes. One might reasonably presume that someone seems a good great care. In fact, I have a good further to say. What are you doing in here? We are guests at the Manor House and we decided to pay a visit to the chapel before we paid our respects for our host. My father's your host. I'm Dorothy Brown. How do you do, Dorothy? My name is Holmes and he's just one of the best moments of my life. Hi, Mr. Harley. Mr. Harley. I heard the organ music and I was terribly frightened.

You've heard of the legend, I suppose. You mean about the headless monk and the ghost organ music, Miss Bounder? You're a doctor, and it's more than a legend I've shown. That's why I rushed over here as soon as I heard it. It must have frightened all the servants within hearing distance. Why were you playing the organ? I'm curious to see whether it's in good repair. Obviously it is, Mr. Holmes. Well, my father and his separate Mr. Miles are expecting you. I know. Let's walk over to the house, shall we? I'm sure you'll see enough of the chapel for tonight. Father, this is Mr. Scheller-Cohm. And Dr. Watts. How do you do? How do you do, Mr. Holmes? How do you do? This is my secretary, Leonard Miles. How do you do, Mr. Miles? Dr. Watson. I'm afraid Mr. Browner is rather angry with me. I hadn't told him that you were an expert on psychic phenomena, Mr. Harlan. I failed to see why the knowledge of that fact could make you angry, Mr. Browner. I don't want you fervently about into this so-called ghost business.

There's been enough trouble in the neighborhood already. It's almost impossible to keep servants. And these conch people are incredibly superstitious. Have you seen the ghost yourself, Mr. Browner? Of course not, Mr. Smith. Ghost, I tell you. You heard the mysterious organ playing? Hmm. Err... Well, no, no, I haven't. And I don't want to talk about it anymore. You'll see, sir. Yes, yes, what is it? I can't see the pen dragon's door. You really can't see you, sir. Pen dragon? Very well. Tell him to come in. Yes, sir. See, see? What is he, one day wonder? The fellow we met outside the chapel, isn't it? He is. Very colorful character. He's a superstitious old fool, if you ask me. But he is a good groom. Yes, pen dragon, what is it? A guinea fard in, sir. But there'll be trouble at the chapel again tonight. I say to myself, David, is your duty to go to the master? I should never mind the mind. What's the trouble? I said the moon was hanging low tonight, sir. I hear the organ playing. Well, that was Mr. Holmes, my good man. Hey, that's what he thinks, maybe. But what I say to myself is,

what made him play the organ? Then this very night, I saw the eduistink. With my own eyes, I saw that poor soul with his head off. One red in the moonlight. I saw that, sir, with my own eyes, I did. Oh, get out of here, you're glittering old fool. And I'm warning you. If I hear any more nonsense about this ghost, you'll lose your job. Do you understand? Now come along, go out with you. Are you sir, beggin your pardon, sir? Come on, I'll give you a chapter, please. Mr. Brown, this seems absolutely red on the subject of the ghost, eh? Yes. Sucutiously so. What about his trinitide? Whatever it is, I don't think you'll be successful. In your profession, Holmes, you know that no, no, no, no, will out. It's true in my profession also. Right as a press, though, as you may, gentlemen. Ghost, will out. Ghost, will out. Ghost, will out. Ghost, will out. Ghost, will out. Ghost, will out. Ghost, will out. Well, happens this place may be haunted, but I swear I never spent a better night anywhere. Ah, good morning, Mr. Holly.

Good morning. Good morning, sir. Good morning. I'm glad to see I'm not the only lady for I do. Oh, were you up late, too, sir? Yes, sir, what's the subject? I decided to ignore the veil effects of Mr. Brown. And so I did the little investigating in the chapel. If the human person is caught. And what the result of your investigations, Mr. Holly? Well, there was no psychic manifestation, you understand, but I'm sure of one thing. That chapel is evil. Evil to the thoughts of its stones. And I'll swear that the building does not tend from the head this monk who was murdered there. You can come in certain suspicions aroused by my own investigations last night. There is evil being, Mr. Holly, and I think I know it's nature. Unless I mistake every sign and reaction, someone has been initiating the local pondrick to the evils of the black house. Mass! Good Lord, what a shocking thought. My own sensations last night confirm your theory, Holmes. There is a covering here. I swear it, hiding its own obscene practices undercover of the haunting. Well, it sounds quite feasible after all.

The people are such superstitious that they'd keep the... Far away is possible from the chapel when they... And they heard the organ playing. The problem falls into both our fields, Holly. The practice of black magic is a criminal offense. The practice is as well the old laws against which calf is still in force. I'm asking Mr. Holly the true... Have your own method of combating such forces as wheel up against... Oh, yes, Holmes. Oh, mine are not connected with the legal aspect of the case. May I ask what you plan to do, sir? Well, I have several little elaborate preparations to make, Doctor. It'll take most of the day up and afraid. Forever, I shall extend them to you all. After dinner tonight. It's better than to sit here after a good dinner with a superb brand, it runs over. Listen to the piano beat so calmingly played. You're very kind. Won't you play something more with Tommy? I'd love to. How you enjoying your seat, aren't you? How they are. Thank you. But Mr. Holly and I have found the local folklor extremely interesting. Yes, sir. You tell us having to investigate in the hall to do the... I'm not sure if you're going to be able to do it.

I'm not sure. I'm not sure. I'm not sure. I'll find an interesting. You tell us having to investigate in the haunted battle business again, have you? Well, here, if you have, I should be very angry. It's abusing my hospital. I told you distinctly. I didn't want any more talk of ghosts. We are not talking of ghosts, my dear Mr. Brownlane. I have something even more important than I must fight now. It's possibly a little hard to imagine as a crusader. Meetings, youths, little men, decide the fall of you. There's toweringly tall, afforded materials I have ever faced. And yet I am your st. George. What's wrong after you talking about her? I'll tell you in secrecy. This mustn't reach the ears of the peasantry. I'll assert myself as st. George because I go to wipe out an evil that lives in your midst, a living modern dragon. Please, Mr. Holly, it's so deadly frighten. Man, to rid you all of this fiend, my must cleanse the chapel, purify it, exercise it, remove its residual psychic evil.

That gentleman is my mission tonight. Oh, God of view! St. David, get some spinning sauce, quicker! I'm a very liberal little too gratified, Mr. Holly. I'm sorry if I frightened the young lady, but I'm sure that after tonight she will have no further grounds for fear in propenius manner. Huffens, yes, old feth? Did you hear anything? Nothing but the owls and the fox fighting big night. I'm getting up to jump here. What's your suppose heart is up to? I can imagine his procedure, lit night, the kufla-arise person is endeavours. I wish him luck, my own plans are not nearly as clear and important as him. Since the guiding force here, but I lack the clues, there is something else.

Yes, sir. What is it? It's the organ and the chapel. And Holly's in there alone. Not alone. You're feeling for its magpies. Come on Watson, something has gone horribly wrong. You'll hear the rest of that for Watson's story in just a second. You know, a moment ago I told you how much I thought you'd like Petri-California-Sherry, but I didn't tell you that Petri-Sherry is the all-found, all-American-wide. You can not only serve Petri-Sherry before dinner, it's good after dinner too. And of course, later in the evening when you're listening to the radio with some friends, a glass of Petri-Sherry is just the thing. And say, Petri makes two kinds of sherry, the regular and Petri-pale-dry. To make sure you get the one that you like best, do what Octo. Don't buy one, buy two. But remember, always buy Petri.

Doctor Watson, that was a heck of a place to break off your story. The remnant has continued to speedily as possible, my boy. As soon as we heard that devilish organ music, Holmes and I rushed out of the house and raced in the moonlight down the path leading to the ruin chapel. By the time we reached the entrance, the organ music had ceased. And the tall gangrene figure of David Penn Dragon was standing in our path. You gentlemen be one-tune at this time of night. What are you doing here? I'll be here because the gentleman gave me five shillings to stand outside here and see that no one disturbed him. That's why I'll be here. And nobody did come or go. He's still be there, you be. When you heard that organ music, why the devil didn't you go in? Organ music? Or you heard no organ music, Watson. Great heavens, look at him. We're too late for that all. Night through his heart. It's obvious who did it at the Fall of Penn Blackenow. I don't grab him. No, no, no. He's not a man. This nervous plan for devilish cunning. It's still you're seeing a sign of a struggle at all. It's just who you're here and allowing yourself to be stabbed. There's a sharp knucks with which the body is surrounded.

If known as a pentagram, I believe. You thought it would protect him completely. The supernatural forces. For once his assertions went too far. Yes, because they touched not on the supernatural, but upon natural evil. And remember Watson that only three people besides ourselves and dated Ten Dragon, knew of this vigil. Yes, Brownlee. His daughter and young Miles are sexting. Exactly. Go back to the house, will you? And bring them here. Perhaps we can lay a ghost by trapping a murderer. And that's all I know, Mr. Holmes. No, you've not disturbed as much so far, Holmes. It's the most sweet they were asleep and they didn't hear the organ. Yes, then you can't prove otherwise. I think I can prove that one of you was not only awake, but also murdered, Mordemahale. I should any of us want to pull man, didn't I? In your case, young lady, I contested I find it hard to conceive a motive. In flying that Mr. Brownlee and I might have welcomed Miles, you must admit that you're responsible for this.

Mr. Harley, coming here. You must have Brownlee must admit that you did everything in your power to prevent the dead man from carrying out his investigation. Why? But you were trying to hide. Nothing. It's just that I wanted to sell the manor house. All this talk about ghosts was giving the piece a bad name. I could have gone on. I'd never had dispose of the property. My own speculation can get us nowhere. Let's get on the facts. Is there any other entrance to the house? Yes, I do. I'm not sure. We can't get us nowhere. Let's get on the facts. Is there any other entrance to this chapel besides the two doors? None. Oh, there was no smudges cave which came out near the organ loss, but father had it ripped up some years ago. I had to. The doors kept crawling in. They're unexaminated. Will he watch no Jeff? No, I'll kill a house. If you don't mind my saying, Mr. Holmes, the things are up. Yes, we'll get this murder. You told us David Penn's regular admitted that no one went in or out as he stood up. He must have needed himself. And he's been in the man's house with him. And superstitious? He might have killed Mr. Harley because he was attending to interfere with the ghost. And then played the organ to celebrate the occasion? I think you overestimate David Penn Dragon's capability, Mrs. Blarmy.

Mr. Miles. Yes, Mr. Holmes. A Penn Dragon is waiting outside. Would you be kind enough to ask him to come here for a moment, please? Certainly. Uh, I want to find out what's in there. Well, it's easier to see where it was picked up. But it's a solid wall now, so no one could get in that way. But if no one came in or out, who else could have killed Harley except Penn Dragon? The ghost. Or rather the person this guy is, this a ghost? Dead man expected a psychic manifestation when he saw the supposed ghost coming towards him. He offered no resistance. He believed that the magical pentagram would protect him. Ah, there you are, David. Hey, here I be, sir. But I don't know nothing more than what I told you. No, I don't pick fighting Penn Dragon. Are we one, is the truth? That's what I told you, sir. And tell us a little more, will you? And when you said no one had entered the chapel tonight, you meant that no mortal man had entered, didn't you? That I did, sir. But how could I say I'd seen the ghost when Mr. Brownlee or Tomiard lose my job if I spoke of the ghost again? Well, now we're getting somewhere. So you did see the ghost?

Yes, we did, sir. The poor soul walking through the moonlight with no head on his body. Is that clear? That's just clearly his eye sees you now, sir. That's all I see. Would you mind turning against the walls or has caused? He was his tall, is well, his shoulders come to just where your shoulders come now, sir. Two men then, sir. We narrow it down to either you, Mr. Brownlee or you, Mr. Brownlee. Oh, the fist is awfully ridiculous. Of course it is. On the contrary, gentlemen, the case is solved. Which one of them was it, home? Neither. Remember that the ghost is hideous. That means that the imposter must have built up take shoulders covering the head. On either of these men, they put a drop their shoulders to the level of my pit. Wait, stop it, you... Bravo, Mr. Brownlee. I didn't think you'd catch me. No, no, I don't believe it. Please, Mr. Brownlee, I'm just warning you. Get back. Who let you come, you mean? Did you see I have a revolver? Call it here for heaven's sake. Don't take me a heaven! You thought I was a sweet little girl. Didn't you father?

You didn't know your dear to your daughter could murder and then did you? Why did you kill Mora Mahale? Because it was a nightmare. Some months I've been practicing black magic. Some months I've been doing up the legend of the headless monks in the organ music. It made me so wonderfully alone. So gloriously, feed the practice the right. Then he came here. I let him live that first night because I thought it was a fool. But all second, when he said he was going to exercise his chest, he purified and said he tightened his death warrant. Oh! Oh, I thought that was a fool. And he was going to skinny face. And he would only have skinny stupid, taddle face. As I climbed the knife into him, he breathed so beautifully. Oh, she's mad as a headless woman. What are we going to do, Brownlee, give me that revolver. And let you take me to prison over the toilet. No, you'll never catch me. She's back after stairs leading to the organ lock. Darius, they're coming back.

Look out, the ratings for Angel. And turn my head. Oh no, this is your home. That's... Ow! Ow! Oh, don't see. My poor little girl. Mr. Brownlee, the powers of evil are frightening. Your daughter that killed one man and might have killed more. He was insane. Hooperously insane. Well, Dr. that was quite an exciting story. I wish I could play the organ and write music for it. There's nothing like music to really express a thought. Just imagine the kind of music you'd write. Probably catch a little ditty such as... The family took the time to bring you such good wine. So when you eat and when you drink, remember, the factory wine.

Oh no, Dr. G. Is that the way I affect you? All along the level you could probably write beautiful music to describe the way the grapes look on the vine in the sunlight. But what music could tell you about the factory family? How long they've been making fine wine? You know, the factory family has been making wine for generation. Handing on down from father to son, from father to son, the knowledge necessary depends on form luscious, sun-ripened California grapes, into delicious, fragrant wine. And when you see that name, Petrie, on a bottle of wine, remember, you're not looking at a mere trademark. That name, Petrie, is the personal assurance of the factory family that every drop of wine in that bottle meets their unusually high standard. Petrie wine is always good wine. It's got to be, because Petrie took time to bring you wine. Well, Dr. Watson, what you sure like home's adventure do you have lined up for us next week? Well, let me think. Next week, Mr. Bartell, I'm going to tell you a story that started quite tough.

The homes and eyes started to London dinner party. And yet, before the evening was over, we found ourselves involved in one of the most shocking scandals with ever rocked London society. The Night Sherlock Holmes Adventure was written by Dennis Green, an engineer, and was suggested by an incident in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story, The Adventure of the Devil's Foot. Music is by Dean Fossler. Mr. Rathbone appears through the courtesy of Metrogoldwood Mayor, and Mr. Bruce through the courtesy of Universal Pictures, where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series. Music The Petrie wine company of San Francisco, California, invites you to tune in again next week, same time, same station. Sherlock Holmes comes to you from our Hollywood studio.

Music This is Harry Bartell saying good night for the Petrie family. This is the Mutual Broadcasting Society.

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