Sherlock Holmes - Shoscombe Old Place

You're having a good time. You're out drinking with the boys. Now it's time to pay the cabs.

$11,352.47, wait, what?

Well, there are court costs, attorney fees, higher insurance costs, damage to your car, do you

why fines? Not to mention the damage to your social life. Plan a sober ride or pay the price.

Drinking and driving costs more than your drinks. It could cost a life.

Learn more at what'sthedamage.org, brought to you by Virginia DMV.

There are parts, and then there are B-Pro auto parts, parts built for every vehicle, parts built

to fit and function, parts that are refining how we drive and redefining the category.

Because every vehicle is just some of its parts. So be yourself a favor and put B-Pro auto parts

on the vehicle's use service. Parts now, parts into the future. Welcome to the new aftermarket.

You're having a good time. You're out drinking with the boys. Now it's time to pay the cabs.

$11,352.47, wait, what?

Well, there are court costs, attorney fees, higher insurance costs, damage to your car, do you

why fines? Not to mention the damage to your social life. Plan a sober ride or pay the price.

Drinking and driving costs more than your drinks. It could cost a life.

Learn more at what'sthedamage.org, brought to you by Virginia DMV.

Capital idea wasn't. Let us return to our humble abode.

2 to 1 B biggest week, please, Kevin.

From London, we present Chostum Old Place by Sir Arthur Turnham Doyle.

Adapted radio by Michael Hardwick, with Carlton Hobbes as Sherlock Holmes and Norman Shelley as Dr. Watson.

You know something of racing, don't you Watson?

I ought to wipe pay for over the bad half of the wound pension. Then I'll make you my

handy guide to the turf. Does the name of Sir Robert Norbert and recall anything?

That's just there, sir. He lives at Chostum Old Place. My summer quarters were down there,

wonder. But you know, Norbert and Nellie came within your province once.

Oh, how is that?

It was when he horsemiped Sam Brewer, the person sweet money-lander, a new model he ridiculed him.

He sounds interesting. Does he often indulge in that way?

He has the name of being a dangerous man. One of them still has to overshot that two generation.

He should have been a regency back. A great eye for the ladies, boxer athlete,

and about the most dead they will ride in the country. Came second in the Grand National

of New Year's back. They say that what he's lost on the turf has got himself

on a queer street that he may never find his way back again.

Cap at all, Watson. An admirable thumbnail sketch.

Now, can you give me some idea of Chostum Old Place?

Well, only this is in the middle of Chostum Park in Baxcher.

Chostum started in training quarters of that.

And the head trainer is John Mason.

He didn't look so surprised, but he wasn't. He was due here some minutes ago.

But do let us have some more about Chostum. I think he was struck a rich man.

Well, the Chostum's panels. You hear them whenever, dog show.

They're the special pride of the lady of Chostum Old Place.

So, rather no but his wife?

No, no, no. He's never married. Just as well, I think, considering his prospect.

He lived with his widow's sister. Lady Bertrand Sporra.

Matter of fact, the place belonged to her late husband.

Nobton was no claim on his at all. When she dies, it reverts to her husband's brother.

So, she only has a life interest in him?

That's right. She draws the rents and nobton spends them.

Still, I heard she's a very certain.

But Watson missed her, Chostum.

Oh, that's just what I wanted.

And here, I expected the man had been killed.

Did you make it, sir?

Ah, Mr. Mason. This is my friend and colleague, Captain Watson.

How did he do, sir?

How did you do?

You had my note, Mr. Holmes?

Yes, but it explained nothing.

Ah, it was too delicate a thing to put the details on paper.

Too complicated.

Well, here we are at your disposal.

Oh, do sit down.

First of all, Mr. Holmes, I think my employers are Robert Norburden and Don Madge.

This is Baker Street, Mr. Mason, not Alley Street.

But why do you say that?

Those are.

Well, a man does one odd thing or two odd things.

There may be a mean in to it.

But when everything he does is odd,

then he begins to wonder.

Why reckon the Chostum prince and the Derby have turned his brain between them?

Well, Chostum prince is a coach.

The Robert is injured.

Oh, it's a best in England.

In order to know if anyone does.

Well, I'll be playing with you gentlemen now,

because I know this won't go beyond the room.

So Robert has got to win this Derby.

He's up to his neck.

He's his last chance.

Everything he can raise or borrow is on that horse.

And it's fine odds too.

That's because Mr. Mason with a horse is good as that.

Well, the public don't know how good he is, Dr. Watson.

So Robert's too clever for the text.

He has the princes asked for the right for spins.

They can't tell him apart.

But there are two lengths in a furlough between him when he comes to a gulf.

No sir, he's overloyted on the prince.

If he fails him,

he's done.

It seems not that it's just the gamble.

But where does the madness come in?

Well, first of all, he's only got to look at him.

He's always a wild.

He's down at the stable for two hours.

And as the way he behaves till he debits for us.

Oh, he won't be.

Well, he's always been the best of friends.

He loves the horses and much of the edos.

Well, he shows him prince when he heard her coming.

He choked out to the couch for his lumber sugar every time.

But that's all over now.

Why?

Well, she seems to have lost all interest.

For a week now, she's just driven past the stable so much it's a good morning.

You think there's been a quarrel?

Oh, he a bitter quarrel, if you ask me sir.

Why else would he give away our pet spano?

First then?

Oh, she's lovely, does it, but we're a child.

But he gave it away a few days ago to hold bonds

where he keeps the green dragon down at Crandall.

Of course, but there are weak hearts and drop sushi.

We couldn't get about with the Robert, but he used to spend a couple of hours with her

in a room every evening.

That's all over too.

He never goes nearer.

She takes it to Arthur.

It all changed, Mr. Holmes.

Everything's changed.

And something going on, mock my words.

There's something more than?

Oh, I thought there is, sir.

No, it often, no, it must have sneaked off down to the crypt

at the old church.

Oh, it's an old ruined chapel in the park.

I see.

I dark down places too.

Bad enough by day.

There's not many in our park who think of going there by night.

Holted no die.

How are you, Maurice Boyle, Mr. Holmes?

Could you have a bad name amongst us for generations?

Anyway, there he goes every night.

Wet or fine?

Too interesting, Ma'am.

Ma'am, Mr. Basin.

But how do you know?

Well, it was Ma'am.

Head-lab steams.

No, it didn't.

Sneaking out first of all and told me.

Not on our business, perhaps you'll say.

But we went after him.

We waited behind a bush.

The storm got inside the crypt.

Is this jumpy work or right, Fred?

Could be a bad jump first of these buses.

There's no respect for persons when he gets started.

Still, I mean, to see this out.

Well, you can't see much from here.

See if we can go inside and take a look.

No more in your life.

Here's for sure.

Much we can do then.

Set for him home again.

He'll never know.

He might be carrying something to give us some idea.

Watch out.

He's coming out now.

They will keep there then.

Your compasses will just have your life.

Well, he's on his way empty.

So where does that get us?

We don't know.

We could take a look inside.

No, he's gone.

Inside?

Oh, don't know, John.

Come on, man.

Come on.

The master can go in there or reckon we can't.

No, no, no.

It's not as easy too.

We get to the bottom of this.

Wait out here for me, if you like.

No, I'll come.

Well, no one here.

No one, nothing.

Oh, I ain't next there.

We can be getting there.

What's that over there?

Well, here.

Oh, that's funny.

It's bones.

Bones.

And at that kind of skull.

Oh, it is, too.

You've been down here before, Fred.

Won't you twice?

Do you daylight now?

I was here some time back when master sent

against to see those gifted one camping out in the place.

These weren't there then.

You sure?

Certain.

John.

Maybe it's it.

You don't reckon, no, no.

They're old bones, these.

Well, the under the years old,

where they come from.

Why should anyone drag them out,

and even drive around like this?

Yeah.

This beats me, Fred.

It beats me.

And beat both of us, it did miss our homes.

You left the bones that they've been?

I'm lying in a corner with a bit of old board over them.

When I'm in this room, take a look at this.

A piece of the bones?

No, sir, not them.

This was a day or two later.

There's a heating furnace on the lady bedroom's his room.

There's a bean off for some time,

but Sir Robert started complaining about the cold,

so we started up again.

And the other morning,

and one of the boys was raking out the cinders,

he found this bone.

You can see it's been burnt.

What do you make of this, Watson?

Well, it's human alright.

The upper condyle of a human femur.

Exactly.

And Mr. Mason, could anyone who wanted to visit the furnace?

Why, sir?

There's a door from outside,

and there's another door stand from a passage

where lady bedroom's his room is.

It was Sir Robert at home,

on the night before the boy found his bone.

Uh, no, sir, he wasn't.

He'd gone off to London.

Then whoever was bending bones, it was not he.

That's true, sir.

Well, these are deep waters indeed.

Deep and rather dirty.

The good thing, Martin, tell me.

No, sir.

Or he thinks that's about all of it.

A few questions, then.

When did Sir Robert give away his sister's gun?

Just a week ago, to date her.

It was Harry, how it started, the old well-earson.

Sir Robert was in one of his tantrums that day.

He got it up.

I thought you'd have killed it.

But he gave it to one of the jockeys and said to take it to all bars

of the green dragon.

He said he never wanted to see it again.

Thank you.

Now, who keeps Lady Defter's folder company in less than time?

Well, that's her maid, Carrie.

She's been with her about two or five years,

and his new doctor voted to her, Mr.

Well, she's devoted enough, but I'd rather not say who to.

Well, he can't tell.

It's that sort, sir.

I'd gladly understand.

From Dr. Watson's description,

Sir Robert, I can realize that no woman is safe from it.

Don't you think the quarrel between brother and sister

may lie there?

Well, the scandal's been pretty clear for a long time.

Yeah, but she may not have seen it before.

However, this case, the accounts for char bones

of these mysterious visits to the crypt.

Did they go fishing in their thought about her?

Pissons are.

Pissing, Mr. Mist.

Well, they were trapped in a mill stream,

and I can be all late.

That's good, isn't it?

Watson and I are famous fishermen.

I'll be not bothered.

Oh, well, I'm excited.

In fact, you may address us in the future

at the green dragon.

I think you said it was cold, Mr. Mist.

All right.

We should reach it tonight.

I need hardly say that we'd better not

be seen with you down there.

But the note will reach us if you want this.

No one.

There.

There's one to hide.

Oh, well, there's one to hide.

Yes, thank you, Mr. Barnes.

My friend and I are very comfortable indeed.

Very comfortable.

But, Jenny, what you think about the whole lake

and the chance of a fight, my friend?

All?

Oh, no.

No, that wouldn't do a daughter.

Why does that?

Well, you might chance to find yourself in the lake

before you were done.

Hello, where are you?

Well, it's a rubber, Norbert,

and the Surrey's terrible genocid tent.

Township.

Big party, sir, but if you two strangers

were as near as Trident Waters,

is that he'd be after you sure as fight?

He ain't taken no chances, sir, overnight.

I think I did hear that he has a force

in for the daughter.

Ah, and a good cold, it isn't all.

He's carrying all our money, and the rubber too.

Oh, well, by the way, gentlemen,

they can be pardoned.

That is, I suppose, you'll ain't on the turf yourselves.

Oh, no, indeed.

It's just two weary Londoners

who've added in some good box to air.

Well, you're in the right place for that.

What's the day of the big line about?

But, more than what I said about,

the strikes first and the speaks after.

Maybe, sir, Nijal, Mr. Barnes.

Well, thank you, gentlemen.

Oh, Mr. Barnes, I wanted to ask you,

what breed is that beautiful stand you'll

I saw in the passage just now?

Oyster, that's the real Shuston breed

that are in that better England than that.

Really?

I'm quite a dog fancy, am I so?

If it's a fair question,

what price would a dog like that cost?

Oh, more than I could pay, sir.

It was the rubber himself.

He'll give me this one.

I know that's what you saw.

He was toyed up.

Indeed, they all packed it all in a jiffy

if I give him his head.

Well, now, well, you'll excuse me, gentlemen.

Yeah.

Well, Watson, I've got here some cards in my hand,

and we may see our way in a day or two.

We're momentarily back from London soon.

Possibly.

I think we might do well to enter the sacred domain

tomorrow night in fact.

It'll reduce the risk of bodily assault with him

still the way in that I want to point such a likely assurance.

Everyone here say our arrows?

Only this.

Something happened a week or two ago,

which has caught deep into the life of the Shostom House.

Now, what was it?

We can only guess at it from its effect.

And they seem to be a curiously mixed character.

But that should surely help us.

It's only the colourless, uneventful case which is hoped.

True, now, as well.

Let us consider our data.

The brother no longer visits the beloved invalid sister.

He gives away her favourite dog, her dog Watson.

Does that suggest nothing to you?

Nothing with the brother's spite?

Well, it might be so.

Or, well, there is an alternative.

But the ingenuity of the situation from the time the quarrel began.

The lady keeps her room, old as I have it,

is not seen, say, when she drives out with her maid.

And refuses to stop at the stable, even to greet her favourite horse.

That covers the case, does it not?

Flavual business in the crypt.

Oh, yes, yes, the crypt.

But let us suppose it is nearly as gambler,

supposition, a hypothesis, put forward for argument, say,

but let us suppose that the Robert Norberton has done away with his sister.

My dear Holmes, it's out of the question that it possibly was,

and that it possibly, he's a man of honorable stock.

But you do occasionally find a camion crow among the eagles.

Let us argue upon this supposition for a moment.

We will.

He's utterly in debt,

and we at any moment be sold up in his racing stable fees by his creditors.

Now, he's a daring and desperate man.

He derives his income from his sister.

His sister's maid is his willing tool.

So far, we seem to be entirely safe ground, a winner.

But he could not fly the country until he had realised his fortune,

and that fortune could only be realised by bringing off his win with Shuston Prince.

Therefore, he had disposed of his sister.

He would still have to stand his ground.

He would have to get rid of her body in some way.

With the maid as his confidant, that would not be impossible.

The body might be conveyed to the crypt,

which is so seldom visited,

and it might later,

they secretly destroy it at night in the furnace,

leading behind it such evidence as they've seen.

Let's say you do that, Pratsun.

Hmm?

Oh, yeah.

It's each old possible that you've got the original supposition.

But that's monstrous.

I think there's a small experiment

between my try to model.

It may throw some life on the matter.

In the meantime, if we intend to keep up our characters,

I suggest you call for a glass of wine

and pull some high converse upon eels and daces.

That's one thing.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.

Good morning, Mr. Barnes.

Oh, you should have taught you to be in your way, dear.

Fish and long were for this.

Well, as much as fact, Mr. Barnes,

my friend here,

for how the fool is they forgot to tap us,

tune bait for Jack.

And as he gather, there's nothing to head here about.

We'll just have to forget about fish.

If it was only an excuse to get away from London,

really, we'd be soft-missed.

Well, perhaps you'll think of taking a walk,

instead of some very nice walking in these parts there.

As a matter of fact, that's just what we're off to do now.

I was wondering, my friend,

whether you might be persuaded to let us take that dog of yours along with us.

Well, I don't see why not at all, gentlemen.

If you could be bothered with him, I'd

be glad of the exercise, sir.

Or you don't seem to get 10 minutes to call me on these days.

Oh, it'll be a pleasure. I think we need exercise as much as the dog does.

This is the case, I imagine.

Yeah, those are the good terms.

The entrance to Shostomo, please.

I learn that the only lady's carriage comes through here almost

precisely every midday as she starts out to her drive.

Yes, you're the midday now.

You having fruit glimpse of her?

More than that.

The carriage has to slow down while the gates are being opened for her.

Now, when it comes through and before I gather speed again,

I want you to stop the coachman with some question.

Yes, who knew?

I saw a stand behind this hollow bush and see what I can see.

And I think I shall also accidentally lose my hold of this good dog's lead.

But quickly, Watson, I can see the carriage and the driveway now.

Now, you know what to do?

Oh, I don't know.

Oh, no, mate.

I say fun, mate.

Yes, sir.

Couldn't you, mate?

He's still a bit nobotent at home today.

I'm sorry, he ain't back from London yet.

Oh, I see.

Hey, partner!

Hey, where's your boy?

Hey, where's my boy?

Where's my boy?

Where's my boy?

Hey, where's my boy?

You look back.

Come here, boy.

Come here.

You're too valuable for lose.

Well, Watson, that's done it.

So, there goes another side, won't you?

Well, what did you see?

There just seem to be two of them in now.

They're made, perhaps, in the only area.

And yet, yes, Watson?

Well, the dog.

Exactly.

He recognized his mistress' carriage,

but found a stranger inside it.

Dogs don't make mistakes.

But did you notice anything else?

Well, I did think that voice,

the one that called him to drive off,

sounded remarkably like a man.

Yeah, and be there to get one more car to our head.

But it needs careful playing all the same.

I think we'll arrange for another one,

on table this evening with our friend, Mr. John Mason.

And what better place than the crypt?

I can't stay very long, Mr. Holmes.

Robert is expecting back in a minute.

Oh, very well, Mr. Mason.

But before you go,

could you show us the bones you spoke of?

Hi.

They're in this corner.

Oh.

You were showing your luncheon, Dr. Watson?

Yeah, I could say.

Was it?

Was it square?

They call.

As I expected.

Wait, I don't understand, sir.

I think the ashes of them might even now be found in death,

then as you told us about.

Boy, in the world,

would anyone want to burn the bones of a man

as being dead maybe over here?

Ah, that's what they're here to find out.

It may mean a long search,

and we need not detain you.

I then see if we shall get us a solution before molding that.

Very good, sir.

I'll be off if you don't mind.

I don't want master to foie me, Mr. Mason.

Thank you, Mr. Mason.

You'll be here for me soon enough.

Now, Watson, let us have a closer look at some of these two.

What do you hope to find, Holmes?

I said, what do you hope to find?

Ah, what every year.

A coffin.

Only ten.

They'll live, they'll look with.

There's a less time, very much mistaken.

Recently, I tampered with.

Just let me get my lens to it.

Ah, yes.

As I thought, my son's thread was,

and succeeded, I should say.

Hmm, I think, I think we shall have to do the same

with the assistance of my trustee, Kimmy.

Oh, true, third, Holmes.

I never knows.

Now, just a poor Watson, if you please, and me,

have it.

Now this.

This is no ancient corpse, Holmes.

This is, listen.

Someone's coming.

And who's a devil, may you be?

You hear me?

What are you doing on my property?

I also have a question to ask you, Sir Robert,

Northerton.

Who are you, I say?

Out with it or by him?

My name is Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes?

Possibly it is familiar to you.

But in any case, my business is that of every other good citizen.

To uphold the law.

It seems to me that you have much to unsuppose, Sir Robert.

No, it does, does it?

For instance, whose body is this?

And what is it doing here?

Very well, Mr. Holmes.

Everything can be explained, I show you.

Everything's all right.

I'm pleased to hear this.

Appearance is all against me, I'll admit.

But I could act no other wise.

I should like to think, Sir.

Come up to the house, please, and you can judge for yourself how things stand.

You have gone pretty deeply into my affairs, Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson.

Well, I should not have found you where I did.

So you know in all probability that I'm running a dark horse for the dummy.

But everything depends on my success.

If I win, all is easier.

If I lose, well, I do not think of that.

I understand the position.

I am dependent upon my sister, Lady Bertress, for everything.

But if I'm not mistaken, her interest in the estate is for her life, am it?

You know that too, then.

Well, it is so.

For my own part, I deeply in the hands of the money that does.

I've always known that if my sister were to die, my creditors would be onto my estate like a flock of butcher's.

Everything would be seized, my tables, my horse is everything.

Well, Mr. Holmes, my sister did die.

We could go.

The new girl, no one?

No, Dr. Watson, I told no one.

How could I?

If one word had got out, absolute ruin would have descended upon me within a matter of hours.

I know these maniled enders of their methods only to well.

Yes, yes.

If I could only stave things off until the dawn, it all would be well.

If your horse wins.

Well, if it doesn't, she will indicate surely your bets on the race and your expectations from it would hold good.

Even if your creditors did see as they were.

Also, be part of my estate.

And my chief creditor happens to be the same rascal if fellow.

Sam Breuer.

My once was compelled to horse whip our new bucket heat.

Yes, I suppose he would try to save me.

Oh, Dr. Watson.

If he got possession of the horse, he'd simply withdraw him from the race.

My bets will be void and my ruin will be complete.

Sir Robert, what did your sister die?

Drops him.

It was plagued over years.

Has the doctor certified the bettety?

No.

And surely it is for a coroner to decide, not you.

I catch your meaning, Mr. Holmes.

But I assure you, many doctors would certify that her end had been in no doubt for months now.

But if it had just too soon for you.

Well, what did you do?

You want, sir?

No, yes, Carrie.

Come in.

Come in, Norris.

Sir, Mr. Holmes.

This is my late sister's maid, Carrie.

Mrs. Norris, if I can say.

How'd she do?

And this is her husband, Norris.

What are you doing?

These are the two people up on earth who can substantiate what I say.

Very well.

Well, as I told you, it occurred to me that if I could only state things off until after the dawn,

they all would be well.

But obviously, the body couldn't remain in the house, even though there was no need for anyone to go into her room but the maid.

So on the first night, Norris and I carried it out to the old wellhouse.

I just claim all responsibility.

As I might expect.

However, responsibility is not yours at all.

It happens you can feel the body in the wellhouse.

Yes.

Then there was a complication of when I sister Spannell used to follow her everywhere.

Turned up at the wellhouse door and stood there yapping continuously.

Wouldn't go away.

So you got rid of it to the land all over the green wagon, yes.

Even so, I felt that some more secure place was needed for her body.

Norris and I carried it by night to the crypt.

There was no indignity or irreverence, Mr. Holmes.

I do not feel I've wronged the dead.

Well, I can picture your thoughts.

Perhaps you would have felt differently in my position.

One cannot see all one's hopes and plans shattered at the last moment and make no effort to save them.

It seemed to me that if there be no unworthy resting place,

if we put up a sometime in one of the coffins of her late husband's ancestors,

they lie in what is still consecrated wrong.

Norris and I just claim.

All right.

We opened the coffin, removed the contents and placed my sister inside as you have seen her.

As to the old relics, they were burnt in the central furthest of night.

Seen better than to leave the blind there for intruders to disturb.

After that, it was but a case of arranging for someone to ride daily in your late sister's carriage,

wearing her toes and keeping up the appearance that she was still alive and well.

Just so.

Now, let me see.

Who could that have been?

Mr. Mollett, I imagine you just claim all responsibility in this as well.

I'd like to know what you think.

That will do knowledge.

You're quite right, Mr. Holmes.

He impersonated my sister and rode each day besides his wife here.

Receiving everyone except the non-happy dog who wondered where his mistress had got to.

And you, it seems.

It is my dismissment not to be deceived.

It was my duty to bring the pets to life and there I was leaving.

As to the morality or decency of your own conduct,

it is not for me to express any opinion.

Oh, there you are, Watson.

I thought I had you grow out a few minutes ago.

I did.

Burn yourself on.

But our papers will be delivered before long, aren't they?

No, Holmes.

And I want to go on the board.

Really, Watson?

You've been uncommonly excited all afternoon.

Mr. Now, you're looking as smuggler as a well-filled cat.

Pretty let be, dear Stephen.

You'll know what today is, Holmes.

Today?

Today?

Christmas?

Easter?

And sped-ins?

I've seen nothing remarkable about it.

It's Derby Day.

The Derby would run this afternoon.

Oh, really?

Is there no?

I should hesitate a boy who was a particular.

The Derby was won by a horse named Shoscom Prince,

which was a doctor's herd.

He carried within the dressing of my month's wound,

and then soon that is all.

Is the name?

Yes, familiar.

My dear Watson.

Do you come and give me the benefit of your opinion upon this specimen?

Really, if it were not for the microscope,

I do not believe we should achieve half the results we managed to.

That was Shoscom Old Place, a Sherlock Holmes story,

adapted from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle by Michael Hardwick.

With Carlton Hobbes as Holmes, Norman Shelley as Dr. Watson,

Friedrich Trees as John Mason,

and Gottrich Emson as Sir Robert Norbert.

Production by Friedrich Bradnam for the BBC.