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From London, we present the retired color man.
A play for radio based on the short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
The retired color man.
It was late one summer afternoon.
I returned from my club to one of the baker's streets to find Sherlock Holmes' gone figure stretched in his deep chair.
I recognize his melancholy and philosophic mood.
He's a lurch-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 cards?
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 paint buses.
He made his little pile, retired at the age of 61,
bought a house at Lurisham and settled down to rest after a life of ceaseless grind.
Sounds a 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 competence, a wife, a leisure.
It looked like a straight road before him.
Yet within two years, he's reduced to the broken and miserable creature you've just seen.
But what's happened, Holmes?
The old story, Watson, a treacherous friend and a fickle wife.
It seems that Emberley has one hobby in his life, chess.
Much far from him at Lurisham, 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 was the result.
I haven't surprised me.
Your cards 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 men's gearbox
by a personal luggage.
It had a good part of his life savings in it.
Well, that's bad.
Sir Watson, can we find the lady?
Can we save the money?
That's a commonplace, so the case to bother you with, Holmes, isn't it?
But vital enough for poor Jessiah and 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.
Oh.
You know how preoccupied I am with this case of the two copctic patriarchs.
It should come to a head today.
No, I really hadn't time to go out to New Asian.
And yet, evidence taken on the spot has a special value.
Well, by all means, Holmes, I confess, I don't see that in my service,
but I'm willing to do my best.
Capital.
Oh, by the way, the name of his house is the Haven.
The old fella was quite insistent that I should go,
but I explained my difficulty.
He's quite prepared to meet a representative.
I hardly expected so humbled and individualism,
I self 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. Emberley, the financial question is not a lie.
No, of course.
It's art for art's sake with him, I understand.
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.
And when 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 a run of my house and see how they treated me.
Mr. Emberley said,
Redful world, redful, redful.
Did you say something?
I was never going to point out,
if you continued to wave your paintbrush like that,
it wouldn't be long before you did your plating of Mr.
because I'm afraid the damage is done.
Oh, how do you mean?
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 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. Emberley.
But praise, step into my sector,
away from this paint smell.
Thank you.
That's better.
Yes, sir.
Pray take a seat.
Thank you, sir.
Good.
Now then, where shall I begin my account?
With my retirement or marriage, perhaps?
Oh, not this at all.
Mr. Holmes, merely requested certain details.
For example, the events of the actual evening of your wife's disappear.
Oh, how shall I ever forget them?
Do you think that I'd prepared a special seat
for the shameless creature?
The hay market.
Yes, sir.
The two upper circles seats.
A gay evening, I thought, perhaps a little supper somewhere.
But no, she complained of her headache and refused to go.
See here, I have it here.
Her fear fatigue, unused seat 31 row beam.
And then you had to go home?
I did.
There, I said 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 iron painted.
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've heard no word from or about her since I left to go to the theatre at a faithful evening,
leaving her alone here with her headache.
Not one single word, Dr. Watson.
And her seat number, the Haymarket Theatre, was 31, you say, Watson?
You're quite sure.
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 detail of the photograph of his wife in my presence?
No.
He never wished to see her damn face again.
He cried.
No doubt.
Still, I fancy 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 a case which seems to be so absurd is simplest,
to be hardly worth my notice, is rapidly assuming a very different aspect.
It's true that in your mission you've missed everything of importance.
Oh.
And those things which have intruded themselves upon your notice,
give rise to serious thought.
What do I miss?
Oh, don't be hurt, my 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?
Was he the Gaila Faria one would expect?
Surely these are of importance.
Well.
And with your natural advantages, Watson, every lady is our helper and accomplice.
What about the girl of the post artist?
Oh, the green grossest wife.
Or even the lady at the blue anchor.
Oh, this you've left undone.
Yes.
Well, it can still be done.
It has been done.
Thanks for the telephone and the help of Scotland's yard.
I can usually get my essentials without leaving this room.
It's a matter to take.
My information confirms Amberley's own story.
He has the little 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?
Well, it's a difficult term.
Oh, in my imagination, perhaps.
Well, neither there was.
This is the state from this weary work of a world 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 he'd gone to Lurchum to see Amberley,
and that he hoped to be back by three o'clock.
Now, there you are.
Control of the minutes.
Well, what news has Amberley been here, yes?
Amberley?
No.
I'm expecting him.
Oh, come in.
Yes, Mrs. Hudson?
There's a Mr. Amberley to see you, sir.
Ah, show him in, Mrs. Hudson.
Very good, sir.
In here to see you, sir.
Mr. Josiah Amberley?
Oh, face different, sir.
Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.
Very good, sir.
Mr. Holmes, I've had a telegram.
I could make nothing of it.
Sir, may I see it?
Thank you.
Come at once without fail.
Can give you information as to your recent loss.
Elman, the vicodage.
Sir.
The stats to 1210 from Little Perlington.
Oh, what's him?
Hand on my thoughts, sir.
Directly, please.
Right, sir.
Little Perlington's in ethics, isn't it?
There's not far from Frinton.
Ah, here you are.
It's you.
No, then, eh, eh, eh.
Oh, Elman.
Yes, yeah, we haven't.
J.C. Elman, M.A.
Living of Musmoor, come Little Perlington.
Well, Mr. Amberley, you must start at once.
Think I can finish.
Will you look up a train for our friend Watson?
Yes, I am, then.
Good, sir.
Mr. Holmes, will you kindly tell me?
Liverpool Street 520, Holmes.
Excellent.
You'd best go with Mr. Amberley Watson.
Why?
He may need help or advice.
It's clear we've come to 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 or clue,
we should feel that you were not really an earnest in this investigation.
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 those.
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 in my opinion.
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 the single word, both it.
I'll arrange here that it shall reach me wherever I am.
The weather was hot, the trains slow,
and I companion, southern and silent.
When we had last reached Little Pallington station,
it was a two mile drive before we came to the Vicarage,
where a big, southern, rather pompous,
regiment received us up in his study.
Telegram lay before him.
Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?
We came in answer to your war, Mr. Elmond.
My...
My...
I sent no telegraph to communication.
I mean the one you sent to Mr. Josiah Embole
like his wife and his money.
This is a joke.
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So, this is 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, I must be some mistake.
And other two vicarages, perhaps.
There is only one vicarage sign, 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
improved longing in this interview.
Hello?
Hello?
Oh, Holmes, is that you, Holmes?
Yes, what?
Ah, hard things proceeding.
Well, they aren't Holmes.
The vicar never said any such why.
You'll be annoyed.
Holmes, are you there?
Most singular, eh?
Most remarkable.
What?
I did not fear idea once,
but there is no return to life.
What?
I have unwittingly condemned you
to the horrors of a country in.
Oh, dear.
Oh, however, there's always nature once.
What?
Nature and your side, heavily.
It can be in Christ's commune with Holmes.
Thank you very much, Holmes.
You've mentioned it, my dear fellow.
Good night.
Good night.
Well, what did he say?
He said it was a most remarkable business.
Remarkable?
I should prefer the word expensive.
Our railway fare.
Third class.
Why pay more?
And now a whole table bill.
It's monstrous.
Monstrous.
I shall 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.
He would even greater one was to find that Holmes
was not alone at Ambley's house.
In the sitting room,
Mr. 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 did you?
Please reach out.
Mr. Barker has been interesting in something your business.
Two, Mr. Ambley.
We've been working independently of one another.
But we both have the same question to ask you.
Question?
What question, Mr. Holmes?
What did you do with a body?
No!
No!
Did you serve us?
Get hold of him, Watson.
No, I have it.
No!
You served me.
You served me.
He's trying to serve me something.
Stop it.
Right?
Oh, let him be!
He's gone!
Look, come on.
Well done, Barker.
No short cuts, Ambley.
Things must be done decently and in order.
I'd like to have it the door.
I may as well take him straight to the police station.
But I tell you, Inspector, that you'll be coming along.
Do you want to examine this house sooner or later?
I fancy you won't object to meeting me here.
Anyway.
And I'll come back with him.
Not going, you.
And any more nonsense and I'll have your arm out of it, son.
Well, that was a nerf thing, Holmes.
It was a poison capsule.
Look.
Ah.
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 is 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 haven'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 in Inspector McKinnon.
Oh.
I assure you that I, it fits myself from now on now.
As to Mr. Barker here.
He has done nothing, say, what I do, then.
That's quite great.
Ah.
Well, that's petty handsome of you, Mr. Holmes.
A praise or bling 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 interfacing reporter asks you what the exact points were,
which allows your suspicion,
and finally gave you a certain conviction as to the real fact?
Oh.
Well, we don't seem to have got any real facts yet.
No.
What facts of you have you arranged for a search?
I've got two constables on their way.
Then you'll soon get the clearest fact of all.
Huh?
The body has come up before away.
Try to sell us.
And the guards.
They shouldn't take long to pick up the likely 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 the dark sails.
But first, I'd like you to consider this man able is mentality.
Hmm.
It's a very unusual one, so much so,
but I think his destination is more likely to be broadmore than the scaffolding.
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 adventure.
Such a one came upon the scene,
and the person of this chest-playing doctor.
Emily excelled a chest, one indication Watson,
or the scheming mind.
Like all Miser's, he was a jealous man,
and his jealousy became a frantic mania.
Rightly 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.
Oh, 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's set my foot on the trail.
I still don't understand him.
Well, ask yourself, Watson.
Why should this man,
at such a time, be feeling his horse with strong odors?
Obviously, to cover some other smell
which he wished to conceal,
some gift-tissue smell which might excite suspicions.
And you mean decomposition?
That hasn't been...
No, no, no, no, nothing of that sort.
Then, in the idea of a room such as you see here,
with a sealed arm door.
Put the two tacks together,
and where do they lead?
Ugh.
Oh, blessed if I know.
No.
Me too.
Let it toss for now.
I was already certain that the case was serious
because I had examined the box office chart
of the Haymarket Theatre.
Another of Dr. Watson's both eyes.
It shows that neither of the two seats
be 13 or 32 of the upper circle
had been occupied on the 19th question.
Well, he lied, I mean.
You never went to the theatre.
And so his alibi fell to the ground.
He made a bad sip when he showed you
his wife's unused ticket, Watson.
No.
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 back the same day.
And sent me within to make joy
and really went.
At the point because they
might simply got out of my
Oxford's directorate.
Oh, masterly brilliant.
There have been no here of interruption.
I proceeded to
burgle the house.
By the way,
burglary has always been
an alternative profession
if I cared to adopt it.
And I have little doubt
that I should have reached
the front leg.
Oh, for Mr. Holmes.
Anyway, see what I found.
All right.
You see this gas pipe
along the scurrying 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 dead,
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 decoyed 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
a very smell of gas
afterwards opened.
Precisely.
He came to have started
painting the day before
that this appears
that he should have said
but they after.
Ah.
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
the day when I felt a hand
grabbed my collar
and a voice said,
Now you're rascal.
What have you been doing in there?
When I could twist my head
round I recognized
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 the investigation.
I can't conclude
and there be foul 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 place.
Thank you very much.
Still, I could hardly
entertain you.
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 particular.
I hand them over to you
and step right out of the gate.
Ah, well,
in the name of the course,
I thank you, Mr. Holmes.
It seems a care 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's there.
Mm-hmm.
Holmes, what about the missing
money and the security?
Or with ale, they found
in some safe place
where Amberley hid them.
There was no robbery.
Ah, well, you've met
every point of.
There's only one
lust thing, puzzles me.
Yeah.
Well, Amberley couldn't avoid
notifying the police
of his wife's so-called
disappearance.
But why was he fooling
up 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's as workman
like a job,
as 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 got to Watson
by Norman Shelley.
Production for the BBC
was by Graham Gold.
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