THE HEADLESS MONK OF VENICE MANOR THE NEW ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

From unsolved mysteries to unexplained phenomena, from comedy goal to relationship fails,

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That's the last bone of Nigel Bruce and 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.

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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. Oshawa.

You forgive me if I don't get up, won't you my boy?

Of course Dr. What's the matter? I had touched your rheumatism?

318 Holes of God 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 of my 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, it certainly was.

Towards the end of November in the 1895, a dense yellow fog gets settled down over London.

For four or five days it was impossible from our rooms and baker's feet to see the outline of houses object.

A real London piece of her, huh?

Yes my boy and it's game most resting.

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 had recently made his hobby.

The music of the Middle Ages.

But when on the fourth day I'm pushing back our chairs off the breakfast.

He saw the greasy heavy browns were still drifting past us and condensing an oily drops upon the window panes.

Sherlock Holmes is impatient and active nature to enjoy this crab existence no longer.

He paced for rest to stay about our sitting room chasing against the enactment.

After several minutes of these regulations he turned to me first.

Let me get in first to the paper once and use the revolution for possible war.

They've been impending change in the government.

Nothing to interest you though.

So crimes are very important.

The London criminal is certainly a doppler and I'm enterprising fellow these days.

Look out of the window once and see how the figures rumour.

A dimly seen and then blend once more into the foggy depths.

What a day for a thief or a murderer.

Well London as the tiger does the jungle.

Unseen until he pounces and then.

Evident only to his victim.

You're supposed to thought I must say hello.

I wonder who that is.

Probably a visitor for Mrs. Hudson.

Perhaps the local pomeros finally can't descend at the pace of attention to the faulty guest jet in our hallway.

I don't 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, I'm pure.

What about my holiday?

Show him up, Mrs. Hudson.

Very good.

What about my holiday and who is he?

I've not had the pleasure of meeting him personally but I'm quite familiar with his scientific repetition.

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 have other dabbles in the supernatural stuff and all that sort of thing?

Hmm.

I mean, maybe I've watched him that...

What about Harley as an extremely intelligent man with a fairly comprehensive and scholarly knowledge of his field and an intense belief in the existence of the supernatural boss?

I hear he has to speak to himself.

Oh, come in Harley.

Thank you Mrs. Hudson.

Hey, you're Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Yes, this is my colleague Dr. Watson.

How do you do, Mr. Harley?

How do you do, Dr?

Oh, for two hundred thousand.

Thank you.

Well, you fellest probably wondering who I am and what's brought me here.

No, I'm not wondering who you are, Mr. Harley.

My friend Holmes is just telling me of your scientific evidence.

Ah, and that's what you know of me, Holmes.

Just the same.

You're wondering why I'm here.

Naturally, sir.

Well, since you know I'm a student of near Calta, I'll get right down to my problem.

Mr. Holmes, have you ever heard of the headless monk of Pervenous Chapel?

Yes, indeed, Mr. Harley.

In Appalachian, the big counted among our more intangible, national treasure, as I should say.

I'm sorry.

Yes, too, please.

But I have never heard of the headless monk of Pervenous Chapel.

Well, then, let me tell you about it, doctor.

What if you were?

The bellest 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 attendant 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 at the headless.

It's charming little legends, sir.

But you don't expect this to believe it's anything but a legend, sir.

Oh, yes, yes.

How about you, sir?

I'm extremely curious to know why you come to see me, Mr. Harley.

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 fit for the owner of Pervenous Manor.

He asked me to stay there, and I find the information is visible,

particularly since the phenomena have curiously increased of late Mr. Holmes,

almost as though some more mortal agency were motivating them.

Oh, I see why you've come to me, Mr. Harley.

I knew you would, Holmes.

You see, I'm like my good friend and fellow investigator, Tanaki.

I believe in being prepared to meet the phenomena on either the natural or the supernatural plane.

The phenomena are real, they fall legitimately enlightening.

As far as if, as I'm sure you suspect, they are being constructed by human forces,

then you think that's part of my department, eh, Harley?

What do you say, Holmes?

That it's supposed to be a nice few days we've published to escape the fog down there.

Ah, places with the weather, Watson.

I'm much more concerned with the fog that surrounds the appearances of the headless monk of Pervenous Chapel,

Mr. Harley.

I accept all invitation with pleasure.

Still a time to catch the Cornish Express.

We can be a Pervenous Manor before the moon's up.

Hello?

Who's this fun I look in front coming down this step towards?

I didn't hear this under the footstep.

I believe it was a psychic man at this station.

It certainly looks as if he came from beyond the grave.

Obey, gentlemen.

We'll be going.

I'm supposing you tell us who you are first, my good man.

Obey, aye.

I be David Ben Dragun sir.

That's who I be.

Stable out here at the manor.

And 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 chair.

Oh, don't you do that, sir.

People that go in there don't often come out the way they go in, sir.

Don't you do it, gentlemen.

What are you talking about, my good fellow?

I be talking about the goolees 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've seen the poor monk walking around without his head on.

He can see the chapel with you.

I feel as way you saw that.

I eat.

That's why we're not, sir.

Not for all the gold in port corps will I go back

and can't see the poor lustful wondering about without his head on.

You gentlemen know what's good for you.

You're not going there either.

Must I words?

Don't you go in that chapel?

Oh, no, sir.

He's really frightened in the place.

He is.

But it's more than blind superstition

that it comes for his reluctance.

Hey, let's go in, shall we?

All right.

There's a tour, eh?

Great Scott.

Listen to that.

The organ.

Ghosts praying.

We have extremely fortunate.

I cited manifestation.

This is the enter.

Remarkable.

Psychic manifestation.

Rubbish.

Look who's sitting at the keyboard.

It's Holmes.

Holmes.

What's the matter?

You factness of death.

Did he hear it?

Oh, speaking for myself.

Doctor, he disappointed 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 an astonishingly good condition

for a disused chapel lunching, honey.

He is.

I do, Holmes.

One might reasonably presume that

someone tensed with great care.

In fact, I would go further and 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 to our host.

Oh, my father is your host.

I'm Dorothy Brown.

How do you do, Dorothy?

My name is Holmes.

And he's just one of the best men in the town.

How do you do, Dr. Brown?

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, Ms. Browne?

You're the 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's home.

And Dr. Watts.

How do you do?

How do you do, Mr. Browne?

How do you do?

This is my secretary, Leonard Miles.

How do you do, Mr. Browne?

How do you do, Mr. Watson?

And, in fact, the Browne 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. Browne.

I don't want you fencing 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 cornish people are incredibly superstitious.

You haven't seen the ghost yourself, Mr. Browne.

Oh, of course not.

Listen to me.

Ghost, I tell you.

You have an mysterious organ plane?

Hmm.

Well, no.

No, I haven't.

And I don't want to talk about it anymore.

Yes, yes.

What is it?

He's in Pendragon's door.

You really ain't to see you, sir.

Pendragon?

Oh, very well.

Tell him to come in.

Yes, sir.

What is he?

What did he want, I 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, Pendragon?

What is it?

They're getting your pardon, sir.

But they'll be troubled at the chapel again tonight.

I says to myself, David,

he's your duty to go to the master.

Oh, never mind the mind.

What's the trouble?

As the moon was hanging low tonight, sir.

Oh, he is the organ of playing.

Well, that was Mr. Browne's, my good man.

Hey, that's what he thinks, maybe.

But what I says to myself is,

what made him play the organ.

And then this very night, I saw the endless ink.

With my own eyes, I saw that poor soul

with his head off, wondered 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, be off with you.

I, sir, beg in your pardon, sir.

Come on, I'll give you chapter three.

Mr. Browne seems absolutely red

on the subject of the ghost, then.

Yes, suspiciously so.

Not everybody's trying to hide.

Whatever it is, I don't think you're successful.

In your profession, Holmes, you know that

murder will out.

It's true in my profession or so.

Right as a person as you may, gentlemen.

Ghosts will out.

Well, happens.

This place may be haunted, but I swear

I never spent a better night anywhere.

Good morning, Mr. Holly.

Good morning.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

Glad to see you're not the only link, right, sir.

Oh, were you a plate, too, sir?

Yes, sir, what's up, sir?

I decided to ignore the veil effects of Mr. Browne,

and so I did the little investigating in the chapel.

It's the humane person that you cut.

And what's 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 evil does not tend

from the head this monk who was murdered there.

Some certain suspicions aroused by my own investigation.

We'll return with the headless monk, a venous manor,

right after these sponsor messages.

And now back to our story.

There is evil, Mr. Holly, and I think I know it's nature.

Unless I mistake every sign and reaction,

someone has been initiating the local convict

to the evils of the black manor.

Mass.

Good Lord, what a shocking thought.

My own sensations last night confirm your theory, Holmes.

There is a cup on here.

I swear it, hiding its own obscene practices

under cover of the hunting.

Sounds quite feasible, after all,

the people are such superstitious that they'd people as far away

as possible from the chapel when they heard the organ playing.

The problem falls into both our fields, Holly.

The practice of black magic is a criminal offense.

It's just as well the old laws against witchcraft

are still in force.

I met Mr. Holly, the true one.

Have your own method of combating such forces

as wheel up against it?

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, I'm afraid.

Further, I shall extend them to you all.

After dinner tonight.

It's pleasant 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 fine, Doctor.

Want to play something more, Mr. Holly?

I'd love to.

Are you enjoying your stay down here?

Oh, very much.

Thank you.

Mr. Holly and I have found the local folklor extremely interesting.

I see.

You tell us happen to investigate in the haunted battle business again, have you?

Oh, it's here.

If you have, I should be very angry.

It's reducing my hospitality.

I told you distinctly.

I didn't want any more talk of ghosts.

Yeah, I'm not talking of ghosts.

My dear Mr. Blumley.

I have something even more important that I must fight now.

It's possibly a little hard to imagine me as a crusader.

Meeting a cute little man, decide the thought of you.

There's toweringly tall a portrait of me, as I have ever faced.

And yet, I am your st. George.

What's on earth are you talking about, sir?

I'll tell you in secret.

This mustn't reach the ears of the peasantry.

I'll have fed myself a st. George, because I go to wipe out an evil that lives in your midst.

A living modern dragon.

Please, Mr. Holly.

It sounds deadly frightening.

Man, to rid you all of this fiend.

I must cleanse the chapel.

Purify it.

Exercise it.

Remove its residual psychic evil.

That gentleman is my mission tonight.

Oh, God of view.

Stated.

Get some smelling sauce quicker.

I'm a very little too gratified, Mr. Holly.

I'm sorry if I frightened the young lady, but I...

I'm sure that after tonight she will have no further grounds for fear in propenius manner.

Apples.

Yes, old chef?

Did you hear anything?

Nothing but the owls and the fox fighting big night.

I'm getting up to jump here.

What's his pose heart is up to?

I can imagine his procedure, lit night.

The kufla heart eyes person is endeavours.

I wish him luck.

My own plans are not nearly as clear, unfortunately.

Since the guiding force here, but I lack the clues.

There is something else.

Yes, sir.

What is it?

It's the organ in the chapel.

And Holly's in there alone.

Not alone.

Listen to your feeling for this man.

Just come and watch him.

Something has gone horribly wrong.

You'll hear the rest of Dr. Watson's story in just a second.

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But remember, always buy Patrick.

Dr. 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 once in a disormenage.

What are you doing here?

Oi, I'd be here because the gentleman gave me five shillings to stand outside here and see that no one disturbed him.

That's why I'd be here.

And nobody did come or go.

He's still be there, he'd be.

But when you heard that organ music, why the devil didn't you go in?

organ music?

I heard no organ music, Watson.

Come on, Watson.

Great heavens.

Look at him.

We're too late for devil.

Night for his heart.

It's obvious who did it.

For the Penn Dragon, I'll go and grab him.

No, no, no.

He's not at him.

It's not of his plan, but devilish cunning.

It's curious to hear that there's no sign of a struggle at all.

Look, he just stood here and allowed himself to be stabbed.

Derby is a chalk knucks with which the body is surrounded.

They're known as a pentagram, I believe.

He thought it would protect him completely from the supernatural forces.

For once his research 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 David Penn Dragon, knew of this vigil.

Yes.

Brownlee?

His daughter and young Miles are six.

Exactly.

Go back to the house, will you?

And bring them here.

Perhaps we can lay a ghost by chopping a murderer.

And that's all I know, Mr. Holmes.

No, you've got to stab this much so far, Holmes.

You see, the more swerved, they were asleep, and then they didn't hear the organ.

Yes, then you can't prove otherwise.

And I can prove that one of you was not only awake, but also murdered Mortemahale.

But why should any of us want the poor man dead?

In your case, young lady, I contest that I find it hard to conceive a motive.

In flying that Mr. Brownlee and I might have welcomed the Miles, you must admit that you're responsible for Mr. Harley coming here.

You must admit that you did everything in your power to prevent the dead man from getting 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 out of the fact.

Is there any other entrance to this chapel besides the two doors?

None.

Oh, there was an old smuggler's cave, which came out near the organ lot.

But father had a big desk some years ago.

I had to.

The doors kept crawling in.

Very unexamined.

Well, he wants no Jeff.

If you don't mind my saying, Mr. Holmes, it seems up.

Yes, we'll get this murder.

You told us David Penn Dragon admitted that no one went in or out as he stood on.

He must have needed himself.

Oh, the man's half-witted.

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. Blarley.

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, want to find out what's him?

Well, it's easier to see where it was picked up.

But it's a solid wall now.

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. Brownlear told me I'd lose my job if I spoke of the ghost again?

Ah, 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.

So I can tell it.

That's just clearly his eye sees you now, sir.

That's all I see.

Would you, would your mind's turning against the walls or has caused?

He was as tall as, well, he's shoulders come to just where your shoulders come now, sir.

Two men then, sir.

We narrow it down to either you, Mr. Brownlear or you, Mr. Brownlear.

Oh, so this is utterly 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 up the brought their shoulders to the level of my pit.

Right, sir?

Mr. Brownlear, Mr. Brownlear.

I didn't think you'd catch me.

No, no, I don't think this is on me.

I'm just warning you.

Get back.

Too many of you come near me.

Did you see I have a revolver?

Sorry for heaven's sake.

Don't speak to me of heaven.

You thought I was a sweet little girl.

Didn't you father?

You didn't know your dear to your daughter could murder a man, did you?

Why did you kill Mona Mahale?

Because they were dead now.

Some months I've been practicing black magic here.

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 sweet of practice the right.

And then he came here.

I let him live that first night because I thought it was a fool.

But I said, when he said he was going to exercise his channel,

to purify that he said he's dying to death.

What?

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

If you could have seen this face,

if you could only have seen this stupid, tuddled face,

as I flames the knife into him,

torrents, it blest so beautifully.

Oh, she's mad as I had.

What are we going to do, finally give him that revolver?

And let you take me to prison or the asylum.

No, you'll never catch me.

She's back here after his tears leading to the organ loss.

Darius, Darius, they come back!

Darius, Darius, Darius, they come back!

Look, Darius, the ratings are angel.

And turn my head.

Oh, no, this is your home.

Darius!

Darius!

Darius!

Darius!

My poor little girl!

Mr. Brownlead, the powers of evil are frightening.

Your daughter had killed one man and might have killed more.

He was insane, hopelessly insane.

Well, Doctor, that was quite an exciting story.

Oh, 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.

It took the time to bring you such a good wine.

So when you eat and when you drink, remember the factory wine?

Oh, no, Doctor.

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 generations.

Handing on down from Father to Sutton, from Father to Sutton,

the knowledge necessary to transform 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 Petrie 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, Doctor, what's in what you show I come's adventure that 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.

Tonight, Sherlock Holmes' adventure was written by Dennis Green and Anthony Boucher, 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 Metro Goldwood Mayor, Mr. Bruce through the courtesy of Universal Pictures,

where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series.

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.

This is Harry Bartell, saying good night for the Petrie family.

This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.

Thank you for joining us at 1001 Sherlock Holmes stories and the best of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the largest curated collection of radio and narrated Sherlock Holmes and ACT stories in podcast form.

If you enjoy our show, please do take a moment and leave us a kind review.

This is your host and storyteller, John Hagridorn.

We now bring 1,000 1 Sherlock Holmes podcast every Sunday at noon, every Wednesday at 4 p.m. and every Friday at 4 p.m.

Enjoy our shows and we'll be back soon.

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