Sherlock Holmes - The Retired Colourman

From London we present The Retired Colourman, a play for radio based on the short story

by Sir Arthur Cohen Doyle.

The Retired Colourman It was late one summer afternoon, I returned

from my club to two to one B. Baker Street to find Sherlock Holmes' gone figure

stretched in his deep chair.

I recognize his melancholy and philosophic mood, his alert practical nature of a subject

to such reactions.

Well, my dear Watson, did you see him?

Who?

Oh, the old fellow just got out precisely.

I met him at the door.

What did you think of him?

Well, pathetic, futile, broken creature.

Exactly Watson, pathetic and futile, poor chap.

But is not all life pathetic and futile?

Isn't his story a microcosm of the whole?

We reach, we grasp, and what is left in our hands at the end?

A shadow, or worse than the shadow, misery?

Oh, come home.

Do you want your plans?

Well, I suppose I may call him so.

Well, who is he anyway?

Mr. Josiah Emberley.

He says he was junior partner of brickfall in Emberley, manufacturers of artists and

materials.

You'll see their names upon paintbosses.

He made his little pile, retired at the age of 61, bought a house at Lourisham and settled

down to rest after a life of ceaseless grind.

Sounds comfortable, prospect.

He retired in 1896.

Early in 1897, he married a woman 20 years younger than himself.

Yes, good looking, too, if her photograph doesn't flat out.

A competent, so wife, leisure, it looked like a straight robe before him.

Yet within two years he's reduced to the broken and miserable creature you've just

seen.

But what's happened, home?

The old story Watson, a treacherous friend and the fickle wife.

It seems that Emberley has one hobby in his life.

Much far from him at Lourisham, that lives a young doctor, Dr. Ray Ernest, who is also

a chess player.

Ernest was frequently an Emberley's house and an interversy between him and Emberley's

wife as a result.

That doesn't surprise me.

Your car doesn't look like a peregrine of the graces.

Well, the couple went off together last week, destination so far and placed.

What's more, the woman carried off the old man's gearbox by a personal luggage.

He had a good part of his life savings in it.

That's bad.

Can we find the lady?

Can we save the money?

At the common place, so the case to bother you with, isn't it?

But vital enough for poor Jessiah, Emberley.

Well, that's her.

What will you do then?

What will you do, my dear Watson?

Hey, if you would be good enough to understudy me, that is.

You know how preoccupied I am with this case of the two copctic patriarchs.

It should come to a head today.

No, I really haven't time to go out to Newation.

And yet, evidence taken on the spot has a special value.

Well, by all means.

I confess, I don't see that in the much service, but I'm willing to do my best.

Capital.

Oh, by the way, the name of his house is the Haven.

The old fellow was quite insistent that I should go, but I explained my difficulty.

He's quite prepared to meet a representative.

I hardly expected so humble and individual as myself would merit the complete attention

of so famous a man as Mr. Sherlock Holmes, especially after my heavy financial loss.

I'm going to show you Mr. Ambuler, the financial question is not a rye.

No, of course, it's art for art's sake with him, I understand.

Yeah.

Still, even on the artistic side of crime, he might have found something here to study

and human nature, Dr. Watson, the blacking gratitude of it all.

To Ambuler.

Can we win?

Did I ever refuse one of her requests?

Was ever a woman so pampered, and that young man, he might have been my own son, had

the run of my house and see how they treated him.

Mr. Ambuler said, Ritful world, Ritful, Ritful.

Did you say something?

I was never going to point out, if you continued to wave your paintbrush about like that,

it wouldn't be long before you did your plating on this tube, but I'm afraid the damage

is done.

Oh, healthy of me.

You see how this business has distracted me.

I mean, the middle of painting this hall, you seem surprised, Dr. Watson, who had must

do something to ease and aching heart, I'd started painting the house only the day before

they disappeared.

I thought I might as well carry on.

Yes, there's since been deemed Mr. Ambuler.

But praise, step it to my sanctum away from this paint smell.

Thank you.

Ah, yes, that's better.

Yes, yes, pray take a seat.

Thank you.

Good.

Now then, where shall I begin my account, with my retirement and marriage, perhaps?

Oh, not this at all, Mr. Holmes Miller requested certain details, for example, the events of

the actual evening of your wife's disappearance.

Oh, how shall I ever forget them, to think that I'd prepared a special treat for the

shameless creature, the hay market, yes, I think two upper circles seats, a gay evening

I thought perhaps a little supper somewhere, but no, she complained of a headache and refused

to go.

Let me see here, I have it here, her fear, her ticket, unused, seat 31 row bean.

And then you had a girl, I did, there I sat all through the performance, her empty seat

beside me, and little did I realize what a hero when it was.

You returned to find her gone, just so, but that was not all, you see this door, it's

I don't think it looked like wood, it's my strong room, safe as a bank, I always thought,

but not where she was concerned.

Ah, as your deep box was taken, I believe.

Deep box, cash securities about £7,000 worth, she must have had a duplicate key prepared,

I see.

I heard no word from or about her since I left to go to the theatre at that seatful evening,

leaving her alone here with her headache, not one single word, Dr. Watson.

And her seat number, the hay market, there was 31, you say Watson, you're quite sure.

Positive.

My old school number.

Excellent.

Then his own seat was either 30 or 32.

Roby.

Yes.

Well, Watson.

Have you told me all?

I think so.

Oh, did I mention the detour of a photograph of his wife in my presence?

No.

I never wish to see her damn face again, he cried.

No, Dr.

Still I've said the loss of his money to precedence over the loss of his wife.

Without a doubt.

But let us get down to what is practical.

I must admit that the case which seems to be so absurd is simple as to be hard to

work my notice, is rapidly assuming a very different aspect.

It's true that in your mission you've missed everything of importance, yet even those

things which have intruded themselves upon your notice give rise to serious thought.

What do I miss?

Oh, don't be hurt by dear fellow.

No one else would have done better.

But clearly you have missed some vital points.

What do the neighbors think about Amberley and his wife?

What did Dr. Ernest?

Does he, the gale of Arya, one would expect?

Surely these are of importance, and with your natural advantages, Watson, every lady is

our helper and accompanist.

What about the girl of the post artist, or the green-graces wife, or even the lady at

the blue anchor?

All this you've left undone.

Well, it can still be done.

It has been done.

Thanks for the telephone and the help of Scotland, yeah, I can usually get my essentials

without leaving this room.

As a matter of fact, my information confirms Amberley's own story.

He has the local reputation of being a miser, as well as a harsh and exactly husband.

It's also certain that he had a large son of money in that strong room, and it's common

gossip that young Dr. Ernest played chess with Amberley and probably played the fool with

his wife.

It all seems plain sailing, and yet, and yet.

It was a difficult day.

In my imagination, perhaps.

Well, neither did there wasn't.

It is a state from this weary work of day well by the side door of music.

Tarina sings the night at the Albert Hall.

We still have time to dress, time, and enjoy.

The next morning I was up early, but found a note from Holmes on the breakfast table, telling

me that he got the lurchum to see Amberley, and he hoped to be back by three o'clock.

Yeah, there you are, control of the minutes.

Well, what news has Amberley been here yet?

Amberley, no, I'm expecting him.

Oh, come in.

Yes, Mrs. Hudson?

There's Mr. Amberley to see you, sir.

Ah, show him in, Mrs. Hudson.

Very good, sir.

In here, please, sir.

Mr. Josiah, Amberley.

Oh, face that inside, sir.

Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.

Very good, sir.

Mr. Holmes, I've had a telegram.

I didn't make nothing of it.

Sir, may I see it?

Sit here.

Come at once about fail.

Can give you information as to your recent loss?

Elman, the vicodage.

Sir, dispatched at 1210 from Little Perlington.

Oh, what's him?

Hand on my fuckfords directly, please.

Right, sir.

Little Perlington's in ethics, isn't it?

There's not far from Finton.

Ah, here you are.

Oh, it's you.

No, then, eh, eh, eh, eh.

Elman, yes.

Yeah, we haven't.

J.C. Elman, M.A.

Living of must more come Little Perlington.

Well, Mr. Amberley, you must start at once.

Think I can finish it.

Will you look up a train for our friend, Watson?

Yes, I am.

Good, hello.

Mr. Holmes, will you kindly tell me?

Liverpool Street 520, Holmes.

Excellent.

You'd best go with Mr. Amberley, Watson.

Why not?

He may need help or advice.

It's clear we've come for a crisis in this area.

But he's perfectly upset, Mr. Holmes.

What can this country make a possibly know of what's occurring?

It's a waste of time and money.

He wouldn't have telegraphed here if he didn't know something.

You should wire him at once that you're coming.

I don't think I should go, Mr. Amberley.

It would make the worst possible impression both on the police

and upon myself if you should refuse to follow up

so obvious a clue.

We should feel that you were not really an earnest

in this investigation.

I, of course I go if you look at it that way.

On the face of it, it seems absurd to suppose

that this is a pass on losing anything.

But if you think I do think.

Oh.

Now, are they along, sir?

And Dr. Watson will catch you up at the telegraph office

at the corner.

Oh, very well then.

A waste of time and money and buy a billion.

Pouring money down the drain.

Watson, whatever you do, see that he rarely does go.

If he breaks away from your decides to return,

get to the nearest telegraph office

and send a single word, boat it.

I'll arrange here the bitch will reach me wherever I am.

The weather was hot, the trains slow,

my companion, Salomon silent.

When we had last reached Little Pallington station,

it was a two mile drive before we came to the Vicarage.

Where a big Salomon, rather pompous,

curgement, received us up in his study.

Telegram lay before him.

Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?

We came in answer to your wire, Mr. Elman.

My wire.

I sent no telegraphic communication.

I mean the one you sent to Mr. Jussar Amble,

like his wife and his money.

If this is a joke size, it's a very questionable one.

I've never heard of the gentleman you name.

And I have not sent a telegram to anyone.

I knew it would be a fool's end.

Well, must be some mistake.

And the other two vicarages, perhaps.

There is only one Vicarage side, only one Vicar.

The telegram you refer to is obviously a scandalous portrait,

the origin of which you'll certainly be investigated by the police.

Meanwhile, gentlemen, I can see no possible object

in prologuing this interview.

Hello?

Hello?

Oh, Holmes, is that you, Holmes?

Yes, what?

Ah.

How are things proceeding?

Well, they aren't Holmes.

The vicar never sent any such wire.

You'll be annoyed.

Holmes, are you there?

First singular.

First remarkable.

What?

I did not fear my dear Watson, but there is no return,

trade to life.

What?

I have unwittingly condemned you to the horrors of a company in.

Oh, dear.

Oh, however, there's always nature, Watson.

What?

Nature enters my company.

Oh.

You can be in touch commune with both.

Thank you very much, Holmes.

You're very fortunate, my dear fellow.

Good night.

Good night.

Well, what did he say?

He said it was a most remarkable business.

Remarkable?

I could prefer the word expensive, a railway fare.

Third class.

Why pay more?

And now a whole cable bill.

It's monstrous.

Monstrous.

I have a word to say to Mr. Sherlock Holmes tomorrow.

Oh, very well, sir.

We've drive directly to Baker Street from the station tomorrow.

And now we better make arrangements for the night.

I warned Holmes by telegram with the time of our arrival at Baker Street next day.

But when we got there, we found a message to say that he was at Loishham,

and would expect us there.

This was a surprise to me, but an even greater one,

was to find that Holmes was not alone at Ambley's house.

In the sitting room, a stern looking well-built man sat beside him.

A dark, heavily moustache man wearing tinted sunglasses

and sporting a large, masonic pin in his tie.

Oh, gentlemen.

Allow me to introduce my friend Mr. Barker.

Mr. Ambley?

Dr. Watson.

How do you do?

Please reach out.

Mr. Barker has been interesting in something your business too, Mr. Ambley.

We've been working independently at one another, won't you understand?

But we both have the same question to ask you.

Question?

What question, Mr. Holmes?

What did you do with the body?

No, no!

Did you serve us?

Get hold of him, Watson.

No, you shot me, Clearser.

He's trying to swallow something.

Stop him.

Right, get hold of him.

Oh, liberty to be.

Hey, come on.

Come on.

Well done, Barker.

No short cuts, Ambley.

Things must be done decently and in order.

I have a cab at the door.

I may as well take him straight to the police station.

Should I tell Inspector that you'll be coming along?

Do you want to examine this house sooner or later?

I can see you won't object to meeting me here.

Very well.

I'll come back with him.

Not going, you.

And any more nonsense and I'll have your arm out of it, son.

The house and their theme, Holmes?

It was a poison capsule.

Look.

Ah, hmm.

Holmes, this is Barker.

Oh, my hated rival upon the Sarishore.

Ah, his methods are irregular like my own.

We irregular are useful sometimes, you know.

Well, Holmes, let's hear what he's all about, eh?

All in good time, my dear Watson.

The Inspector will be along shortly for the same account.

In the meantime, I shall enjoy a few minutes quite smooth.

I just want to make this clear before you begin, Mr. Holmes.

Don't you imagine that we hadn't formed our own views of this case?

And that we wouldn't have laid our hands on the man.

And so you'll excuse us for feeling sore when you jump in with methods which we can't use.

And so rob us of the credit.

There shall be no such robbery, Inspector McKinnon.

No.

I assure you that I, it faced myself from now on now.

As to Mr. Barker here.

He has done nothing, say what I told him.

That's quite great.

Ah, well, that's pretty handsome of you, Mr. Holmes.

Price or blank can matter little to you,

but it's different for the police when the newspapers start asking questions.

Quite so.

But when an intelligent and interprising reporter asks you what the exact points were which arise your suspicion,

and finally gave you a certain conviction as to the real fact?

Well, we don't seem to have got any real facts yet.

No.

What facts of you have you arranged for us, sir?

I've had two constables on their way.

Then you will soon get the clearest fact of all.

Huh?

The body has come up to far away.

Try to sell us and begotten.

They shouldn't take long to pick up the likelihood cases.

This house is older than its water pipe,

so there must be a disused well somewhere.

Yes.

Try your luck there.

But how did you know there'd been murder?

Yes, Holmes.

How was it done?

Well, I'll show you first how it was done, Inspector.

And then I'll give the explanation which is due to you,

and even more to my long-suffering friend Dr. Watson,

who has been invaluable throughout.

Not say, Holmes.

But first, I'd like you to consider this man able is mentality.

Hmm.

So very unusual one, so much so that I think his destination

is more likely to be broadmore than the scaffold.

Is that so?

Oh, go on then.

He has to a high degree, the sort of mind one associates

with the medieval Italian nature,

rather than with the modern Britain.

He was a miserable miser,

who made his wife so wretched by his negatively ways

that she was already prey for any adventurer.

Such a one came upon the scene

and the person of this chest-playing doctor.

Ambally excelled the chest,

one indication Watson of the scheming mind.

Like all Miser's, he was a jealous man.

And his jealousy became a frantic mania.

Rightfully or wrongly, he suspected and intrigued.

He determined to have his revenge,

and he planned it for Diabolical Clevverness.

Have a look here.

This is his so-called strong rule.

Poor.

What an awful smell of paint.

That was our first clue.

You can paint Dr. Watson's observation for that,

though he failed to draw the inference.

It set my foot on the trail.

I still don't understand, huh?

Well, ask yourself, Watson.

Why should this man,

at such a time, be filling his house with strong odors?

Obviously, to cover some other smell,

which he wished to conceal.

Some duty smell, which might excite suspicions.

And you mean decomposition?

That hasn't been...

No, no, no, nothing of that sort.

Then, in the idea of a room,

such as you see here,

with a sealed, armed door,

took the two facts together,

and where do they lead?

Ugh.

Oh, blessed if I know.

No.

Me too.

Let it pass for now.

I was already certain of the case was serious,

because I had examined the box office chart

of the Haymarket Theatre,

another of Dr. Watson's bullseyes.

It showed that my velvet two seats

B13 or 32 of the upper circle

had been occupied on the night in question.

Very light, I mean.

You never went to the theatre.

And so his alibi fell to the ground.

He made a bad slip when he showed you

his wife's unused ticket, Watson.

Yeah.

The only way I could sacrifice my suspicions

about the smell of paint

and the existence of the sealed room

was to examine the house myself.

The question was,

how was I to achieve this?

I know that...

Now I see it.

Yes, Watson.

I sent an agent

to the most impossibly remote village I could think of,

and summoned Amballet to go there

at such an hour

that he couldn't possibly get that the same day.

He sent me willing to make joy.

He really went.

At the good-digger's name,

I simply got out of my pocket's directory.

Oh, masterly brilliant.

There have been no here of interruption.

I proceeded to burgle the house.

Birdlery has always been an alternative profession

if I care to adopt it.

I've little doubt that I should reach the front leg.

Oh, Mr. Holmes.

Anyway, see what I found.

You see this gas pipe

along the scutting board here?

Yes. Very good.

It rises in the angle of a wall

and there's a path in the corner.

Now, follow me into the strong room.

You see that plaster rose

in the central ceiling?

Yes.

Well, the pipe finishes there

with an open end.

At any moment, by turning the outside depth,

this room could be flooded with gas.

With its door closed and the tap full on,

I wouldn't give two minutes of consciousness

to anyone shut in here.

By what devilish device

he decoited them in here, I don't know.

But once inside,

they will at his mercy.

Oh, I think I've seen them up in this place.

Yes.

Let's get out of here.

So, he started thinking

the house to cover up

a very smell of gas

afterwards opened.

Precisely.

He came to have started

painting the day before

that this appears,

but he should have said that they

after.

Well, what happened then?

Then came an incident

which I hardly expected.

I was slipping out again

through the pantry window

in the early dawn

today.

Then I caught a hand

grabbed my collar

and a voice said,

Now you're rascal.

What have you been doing in there?

Then I could twist my head

round, I recognize my friend

and rival Mr. Barca.

Ah!

So, just where do you come

into this, Mr. Barca?

Well, I see.

I've been engaged by the family

of Dr. Ray Ernest

to make an investigation.

I can't conclude

in the befiled play,

like Mr. Erwin.

I've been watching this house

for several days.

I'd marked you down,

Dr. Watson,

as one of the most suspicious

characters to visit

the play.

Thank you very much.

Still, I could hardly

entertain you up.

But when I saw a man

actually climbing

out of the pantry window

this morning,

I couldn't risk

playing the song.

And there you are,

Inspector.

You have all the

particulars.

I hand them over to you

and step right out

of the cake.

Ah, well,

in the name of the

door, sorry,

thank you, Mr. Holmes.

It seems a clear

case the way you put it.

You'll get results,

Inspector.

I always put it yourself

in the other

place and thinking

what you would do

yourself.

It takes some

imagination.

But it does.

Mm-hmm.

Holmes, what about the

missing money?

And the security?

Or with ale,

they found in some safe

place where

Emily hid them.

It was no property.

Ah, well,

you've met every

point of them.

There's only one

last thing,

puzzle's name.

Yeah?

Well, Emily couldn't

avoid notifying the

police of his wife,

so-called disappearance.

But why was he

fool enough to go to you

as well?

Ah, pure

spank.

He thought

so clever and so sure

of himself,

but he imagined no one

could touch him.

He could say to any

suspicious neighbor,

look at the steps

I've taken.

I consulted not only

the police,

but even Sherlock

Holmes.

Well,

I'll have to forgive you

that even Sherlock

Holmes.

Yes, it does work

when like a job

those I can remember.

That was

The Retired Color Man

by Michael Hardwick,

based on the short story

by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Sherlock Holmes was

played by Carlton Hobbs

and Doctor Watson

by Norman Shelley.

Production for the BBC

was by Graham Gold.