Sherlock Holmes Alone
Even the world's greatest detective has to retire at some point. Sherlock Holmes has done just that. He has decided to wind down and settle down in a cozy and somewhat lonely villa in Sussex near the village of Fulworth. He has given up entirely to that soothing life of Nature for which he had so often yearned during the long years spent amid the gloom of London. Holmes, his housekeeper and his bees have the estate all to themselves.
Yes, the super sleuth has become a bee keeper! He spends his days caring for his buzzing charges, walking along the chalk cliffs, or exploring the admirable beaches with their splendid swimming pools that are filled afresh with each tide.
It is a peaceful and calm life for a man who has lived so much adventure and danger. But sometime Holmes does long for the old days. The heady days of investigation and intrigue. At this point in his life his friend and partner John Watson has passed almost beyond his keen having married and settled down in his own right. So where does Holmes turn? With whom will he share his stories and memories? He will share them with you!
Alone in his great book filled garret Holmes will dig deep into his personal records and the notes made by Dr. Watson to share his own view on his famous cases. It may be surprising to find out just how close Holmes own recollections mirror Watson's. Holmes will recount to you his most memorable cases and his most fierce opponents. Join us as we explore one of the greatest minds of all time here on SHERLOCK HOLMES ALONE.
Sherlock Holmes Alone
Alone at Christmas: The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle
What if a forgotten hat and a Christmas goose held the key to unraveling a high-stakes mystery? Join us as we explore the frosty streets of post-Christmas London alongside the brilliant Sherlock Holmes and his faithful companion, Dr. Watson. We'll uncover the curious case of the Blue Carbuncle, a precious gem hidden in the most unexpected of places. Holmes's razor-sharp deductions and a colorful array of London characters create a tapestry of intrigue that proves even the simplest of objects can lead to profound revelations.
Listeners will be captivated by the clever twists and turns as Holmes and Watson dig deeper into the mystery, questioning everything from the innocence of a wrongly accused plumber to the motives of those entangled in the crime. The journey takes us from dimly lit pubs to the bustling Covent Garden Market, encountering characters like the unsuspecting Mr. Henry Baker and the evasive goose supplier Breckenridge. With each step, Holmes's cunning methods of extracting crucial information come to light, revealing the delicate balance between justice and mercy.
As we reach the gripping conclusion, prepare to witness Holmes's confrontation with the guilt-ridden James Ryder, who becomes the focal point of the mystery. Sherlock's decision to offer forgiveness over punishment adds a layer of moral complexity, highlighting the warmth of the Christmas spirit amidst the chill of detective work. Tune in for a tale that skillfully weaves elements of crime-solving with compassion, leaving you both entertained and enlightened by the genius of Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock Holmes Alone, episode 1. Alone at Christmas, the Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle Brought to you by Credanthe Audio Theatre. My dear friend Dr Watson had called upon me upon the second morning after Christmas with the intention of wishing me the compliments of the season. I was lounging upon the sofa in my purple dressing gown, a pipe rack within my reach and a pile of crumpled morning papers, newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear and cracked in several places. My lens and a forcep were lying upon the seat of the chair. As I had suspended the hat in this manner for the purpose of examination, watson, noticing the objects, was concerned that he may have disturbed me. Ah, holmes, you are engaged. Perhaps I interrupt you. Not at all, watson. I'm glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one. I jerked a thumb in the direction of the old hat, but there are points in connection with that hat which are not entirely devoid of interest and even of instruction.
Speaker 1:Watson seated himself in an armchair and warmed his hands before the crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in and the windows were thick with ice crystals. I suppose, holmes, homely as it looks, this hat has some deadly story linked to it. That is the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery and the punishment of some crime. No, no, my dear Watson, no crime, only one of those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four million human beings all jostling each other within the space of a few square miles, as is the case here in London, amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place and many a little problem will be presented, which may be striking and bizarre without being criminal. We have already had experience of such. Yes, indeed, holmes, so much so that, of your last six cases, three have been entirely free of any legal crime.
Speaker 1:Precisely, you allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler papers, to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland and to the adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that this small matter will fall into the same innocent category. You know, peterson the commissionaire. Oh, it is his hat. No, no, no, watson, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual problem. And first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas morning in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting at this very moment in front of Peterson's fire. The facts are these About four o'clock on Christmas morning, peterson, who, as you know, is a very honest fellow, was returning from some small jollification and was making his way homeward down Tottenham Court Road.
Speaker 1:In front of him, in the gaslight, he saw a tallish man walking with a slight stagger and carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the corner of Goud Street, a row broke out between this stranger and a little knot of ruffs. One of the latter knocked off the man's hat, on which he raised his stick to defend himself and, swinging it over his head, smashed the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from his assailants, but the man, shocked at having broken the window and seeing an official-looking person in uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels and vanished amid the labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the appearance of Peterson, so that he was left in the possession of the field of battle, and also of the field of battle and also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this battered hat and a most unimpeachable Christmas goose, which surely he returned to the owner.
Speaker 1:My dear Watson, there lies the problem. It is true that, for Mrs Henry Baker was printed upon a small card "'which was tied to the bird's left leg "'and it is also true that the initials HB "'are legible upon the lining of this hat, "'but as there are some thousands of bakers "'and some hundreds of Henry bakers here in London, "'it is not easy to restore lost property to any one of them' "'What then did Peterson do? He brought round both the hat and goose to me on Christmas morning, a little Christmas gift, knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. The goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs that, in spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to fulfill the ultimate destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain the hat of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas dinner, did he not advertise no, then what clue could you have as to his identity? Only as much as we can deduce From his hat. Precisely, watson. But surely you're joking, holmes? What can you gather from this old, battered felt? Here is my lens, watson, you know my methods. What can you gather yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this article?
Speaker 1:Watson took up the tattered object in his hands and turned it over rather ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round shape, hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of red silk but was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker's name but, as I had remarked, the initials HB were scrawled upon one side. But, as I had remarked, the initials HB were scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty and spotted in several places, although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the discoloured patches by smearing them with ink.
Speaker 1:I can see nothing, ha. On the contrary, watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, to reason from what you see. You are far too timid in drawing your inferences. Then, pray, tell me what it is you can infer from this hat.
Speaker 1:I picked up the hat. It is perhaps less suggestive than it might have been, and yet there are a few inferences which are very distinct and a few others which represent at least a strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual is, of course, obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly well to do within the last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a moral retrogression which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence probably drink at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to love him. He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect. He is a man who leads a sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last few days and which he anoints with lime cream. These are the more patent facts which are to be deduced from his hat, also, by the way, that it is extremely improbable that he has had the gas laid on in his house.
Speaker 1:Well, you are certainly joking, Holmes. I am not joking in the least, watson, but I do find it amusing that even now, when I give you these results, you are unable to see how they are attained. I have no doubt that I'm very stupid, but I must confess I'm unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that this man was an intellectual? For answer, I clapped the hat upon my head. It came right over my forehead and settled upon the bridge of my nose. It is a question of cubic capacity, watson. A man with so large a head must have something in it the decline of his fortunes then.
Speaker 1:This hat is three years old. These flat brims, curled at the edge, came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of red silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to buy so expensive a hat three years ago and has had no hat since then, he has assuredly gone down in the world. Well, holmes, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the foresight and the moral retrogression? Here is the foresight. Do you see this little disc and loop of the hat securer? They are never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take this precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken the elastic and has not trouble to replace it, it is obvious that he has less foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavoured to conceal some of these stains upon the felt by dubbing them with ink, which is a sign that he has not entirely lost his self-respect.
Speaker 1:Your reasoning is certainly plausible, holmes. The further points that he is middle-aged, that his hair is grizzled, that it has been recently cut and that he uses lime cream are all to be gathered from a close examination of the lower part of the lining. The lens discloses a large number of hair ends clean, cut by the scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive and there is a distinct odor of lime cream. To be adhesive and there is a distinct odour of lime cream.
Speaker 1:This dust upon the hat, you will observe, is not the gritty, grey dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust of the house, showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the time, while the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive that the wearer perspired very freely and could therefore hardly be in the best of training, but his wife. You said that she had ceased to love him. This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear Watson, with a week's accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection. Fair that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection. Ah, but he might be a bachelor, nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace offering to his wife.
Speaker 1:Remember the card upon the bird's leg? You have an answer for everything, but how on earth do you deduce that the gas has not been laid on in his house? One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance, but when I see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning tallow Walks upstairs at night, probably with his hat in one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow stains from a gas jet. Are you satisfied? Well, it's very ingenious, but since, as you said just now there has been no crime committed and no harm done save the loss of a goose.
Speaker 1:All this seems to be rather a waste of energy. I had opened my mouth to reply when the door flew open and Peterson the commissionaire rushed into the apartment with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who was dazed with astonishment. De goose, mr Holmes, de goose, sir, eh, what of it then? Has it returned to life? And flapped off through the kitchen window? See here, sir, see what me wife found in its crap. He held out his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly scitillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size but of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in the dark hollow of his hand.
Speaker 1:By Jove, peterson, this is a treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you've got A diamond, sir, a precious stone. It cuts into glass as if it were a potty. It is more than a precious stone. It is the precious stone, not the Countess of Moorcar's blue carbuncle. Precisely so, watson. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I have read the advertisement about it in the Times every day lately. It is absolutely unique and its value can only be conjectured, but the reward offered of one thousand pounds is certainly not within a twentieth part of its market price. A thousand pounds, lord have mercy. That is the reward, peterson, and I have reason to know that there are sentimental considerations in the background which would induce the Countess to part with half her fortune if she could but recover the gem. It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. That is correct, watson.
Speaker 1:On December 22nd, just five days ago, john Horner, a plumber, was accused of having abstracted it from the Countess's jewel case. The evidence against him was so strong that the case has been referred to the Assizes. I have some account of the matter here, I believe, if you'd care to have a look. Watson rummaged amid my newspapers, glancing over the dates, until at last he smoothed one out, doubled it over and read the following paragraph Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery.
Speaker 1:John Horner, 26, plumber, was brought up upon the charge of having, upon the 22nd of December, abstracted from the jewel case of the Countess of Moorcar the valuable gem known as the Blue Carbuncle. James Ryder, upper attendant at the hotel, gave his evidence to the effect that he had shown Horner up to the dressing room of the Countess of Moorcar upon the day of the robbery in order that he might solder the second bar of the grate, which was loose. He had remained with Horner some little time but had finally been calledner some little time but had finally been called away. On returning, he found that Horner had disappeared, that the bureau had been forced open and that the small Morocco casket in which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess was accustomed to keeping her jewel was lying empty upon the dressing-table. Ryder instantly gave the alarm and Horner was arrested the same evening, but the stone could not be found either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cusack, maid to the Countess, disposed to having heard Ryder's cry of dismay on discovering the robbery and having rushed into the room where she found matters as described by the last witness, inspector Bradstreet B Division gave evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who struggled frantically and protested his innocence in the strongest terms. Evidence of a previous conviction for robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistrate refused to deal summarily with the offence but referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of intense emotion during the proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion and was carried out of court. Hmm, so much for the police court.
Speaker 1:The question for us now to solve is the sequence of events leading from a rifle jewel case at one end to the crop of a goose in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You see, watson, our little deductions have suddenly assumed a much more important and less innocent aspect. Here is the stone. The stone came from the goose, and the goose came from Mr Henry Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat and all the other characteristics with which I have bored you. So now we must set ourselves very seriously to finding this gentleman and to ascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. To do this, we must try the simplest means first, and these lie undoubtedly in an advertisement in all the evening papers. If this fails, I shall have to recourse to other methods. What will you say, holmes? Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Watson Now then found at the corner of Gould Street a goose and black felt hat.
Speaker 1:Mr Henry Baker can have the same by applying at 6.30 this evening at 221B Baker Street. There, that is clear and concise, very, but will he see it? Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the papers, since to a poor man the loss was a heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his mischance in breaking the window and by the approach of Peterson that he thought of nothing but flight. But since then he must have bitterly regretted the impulse which caused him to drop his bird. Then again, the introduction of his name will cause him to see it, for everyone who knows him will direct his attention to it.
Speaker 1:Here you are, peterson, run down to the advertising agency and have this put in the evening papers, in which one, sir, oh, in the Globe, star, pal-mall, st James Evening News, standard, echo and any others that occur to you. Very well, sir, and this stone? Ah yes, I shall keep the stone, thank you, and say, peterson, just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here with me, for we must have one to give this gentleman in place of the one which your family is now devouring. When the commissionaire had gone, I took up the stone and held it against the light. It is a bonny thing, watson. Just see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet baits. In the larger and older jewels, every facet may stand for a bloody deed.
Speaker 1:This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China and is remarkable in having every characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it already has a sinister history. There have been two murders, a vitriol throwing, a suicide and several robberies brought about for the sake of this 40-grain weight of crystallized charcoal. Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows and the prison?
Speaker 1:I'll lock it up in my strongbox now and drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it. Do you think this man, horner, is innocent? Holmes, I cannot tell. Well then, do you imagine that this other one, henry Baker, had anything to do with the matter? It is, I think, much more likely that Mr Henry Baker is a completely innocent man who had no idea that the bird which he was carrying was of considerably more value than if it was made of solid gold. That, however, I shall determine by a very simple test. If we have an answer to our advertisement and you can do nothing until then, nothing In that case I shall continue my professional round, for I still have patients to see, but I shall come back in the evening, at the hour you've mentioned, for I should like to see the solution of so tangled a business. I'd be very glad to see you, watson. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I ought to ask Mrs Hudson to examine its crop.
Speaker 1:Watson had been delayed at a medical case, and it was a little after half-past six when he returned to Baker Street once more, and he and a tall man in a scotch bonnet, with a coat which was buttoned up to his chin, were shown up to my rooms together by Mrs Hudson, the landlady, mr Henry Baker, I believe. "'i rose from my armchair and greeted my visitor. "'pray, take my chair by the fire, Mr Baker. "'it is a cold night and I observe that your circulation "'is more adapted for summer than for winter. "'ah, watson, you have come at just the right time.
Speaker 1:"'is that your hat, mr Baker? Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat. He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive head and a broad, intelligent face sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled brown, a touch of red in the nose and cheeks. "'with a slight tremor of his extended hand, "'recalled my surmise as to his habit of drink, "'his rusty black frock coat was buttoned right up in front "'with the collar turned up "'and his lank wrists protruded from his sleeves, "'without sign of cuff or shirt "'He spoke in a slow, staccato fashion, choosing his words with care, and gave the impression generally of a man of learning in letters who had had ill usage at the hands of fortune. We have retained these things for some days, mr Baker, because we expected to see an advertisement from you giving your address. I'm at a loss to know why you did not advertise.
Speaker 1:Shillings have not been so plentiful with me as they once were. I had no doubt that the gang of roughs who assaulted me had carried off both my hat and the bird. I did not care to spend more money in a hopeless attempt at recovering them. Very naturally, by the way, about the bird, we were compelled to eat it. To eat it, our visitor half rose from his chair in his excitement. Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone had we not done so.
Speaker 1:But I presume that this other goose upon the sideboard, which is almost the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your purposes equally well. Oh yes, certainly, sir, certainly. Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop and so on of your own bird. They might be useful to me as relics of my adventure, but beyond that, I can hardly see what use the disjectus membra of my late acquaintance are going to be to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I will confine my attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive upon the sideboard. I glance sharply across at Watson with a slight shrug of my shoulders. There is your hat then, mr Baker, and there is your bird. By the way, would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one from? I am somewhat of a foul fancier and I have seldom seen a better-grown goose. Certainly, sir, there are a few of us who frequent the Alpha Inn near the museum. We are to be found in the museum itself during the day.
Speaker 1:You understand, this year, our good host, windigit by name, instituted a goose club by which, on consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to receive a bird at Christmas. My pence were duly paid and the rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a scorched bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor my gravity. With a comical pomposity of manner, he bowed solemnly to both of us and strode off upon his way. Well then, watson, so much for Mr Henry Baker. It is quite certain that he knows nothing whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, watson? Not particularly. Then I suggest we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up this clue while it is still hot. By all means, holmes.
Speaker 1:It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped cravats around our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a cloudless sky, and the breath of passers-by blew out into smoke like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly as we swung through the Doctor's Quarter, wimpole Street, harley Street and so through to Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury, at the Alpha Inn, which is a small public house at the corner of one of the streets which runs down into Holborn. I pushed open the door of the private bar and ordered two glasses of beer from the ruddy-faced, white-aproned landlord. Your beer should be excellent, landlord, if it is as good as your geese, my geese.
Speaker 1:Yes, I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr Henry Baker, who was a member of your goose club? Ah, yes, I see. But you see, sir, them's not our geese. Indeed, whose then? Well, I got two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden. Indeed, I know some of them. Which was it? Breckenridge is his name. Ah, I know some of them. Which was it'? "'breckenridge is his name'? "'ah, I don't know him. "'well, here's to your good health, landlord, and prosperity to your house. Good night'. Watson and I guzzled down our beer. "'now for Mr Breckenridge. Watson' we buttoned our coats as we came out into the frosty air. Watson, we buttoned our coats as we came out into the frosty air.
Speaker 1:Remember, watson, that though we have so homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have at the other a man who will certainly get seven years' penal servitude unless we can establish his innocence. It is possible that our inquiry may but confirm his guilt. But in any, we have a link of investigation which has been missed by the police and which singular chance has placed in our hands. We must follow it to the bitter end. Yes, holmes, exceedingly bitter. It's bloody, freezing out here tonight. Faces to the south, then, watson, and quick march.
Speaker 1:We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street and so through a zigzag of slums to Covet Garden Market. One of the largest stalls bore the name of Breckenridge upon it and the proprietor, a horsey-looking man with a sharp face and trim side whiskers, was helping a boy put up the shutters. Good evening, it's a cold night, sold out of geese, I see, let you have five hundred tomorrow morning. Up the shutters, the landlord of the Alpha. Oh yes, I sent him a couple of dozen Fine birds. They were too.
Speaker 1:Now, where did you get them from? To my surprise, the question provoked a burst of anger from the salesman. Now then, mister, what are you driving at? Let's have it straight now, it's straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the geese which you supplied to the Alpha. Well then, I shan't tell you so now it is a matter of no importance, but I don't know why you should be so warm over such a trifle Warm. You'd be as warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am when I pay good money for a good article. There should be an end to the business, but it's. Where are the geese? And who did you sell the geese to? And what will you take for the geese? One would think they were the only geese in the world to hear the fuss that's made over them.
Speaker 1:Well, I have no connection with any other people who've been making inquiries. If you won't tell us, the bet is off. Sorry, watson, excuse me, holmes, I say the bet. Remember the bet we made? It's off. Ah, yes, yes, of course. Oh, that is unfortunate.
Speaker 1:I'm always ready to back my opinion on a matter of fowls and I have a fiver with my friend here on it that the bird I ate is country bread. And I have a fiver with my friend here on it that the bird I ate is country bread. But I suppose the bet is off. Still, I stand by my opinion. Hang on, hang on, hang on. Then You've lost your fiver, for it's town bread. It's nothing of the kind I say it is. I don't believe it. Do you think you know more about fowls than I, who've handled them ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that went to the alpha is town bread. You'll never persuade me to believe that. Will you have a bet with me then? It's merely taking your money, for I know that I'm right, but I'll have a sovereign on it with you just to teach you not to be obstinate.
Speaker 1:Right, bring me the books. Bill the small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great greasy-backed one, laying them out together beneath the hanging lamp. Now then, mr Cockshaw, I thought that I was out of geese, but before I finish you'll find that there's still one left in my shop, and that one is you. Do you see this little book? Yes, well, that's the list of the folk from whom I buy, do you see? Well, here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers after their names are where their accounts are in the big ledger.
Speaker 1:Now then you see this other page in red ink. Well, that is the list of my town suppliers. Now, look at the third name. Just read it out to me Mrs Oakshot, 117 Brixton Road, 249. Quite, so, now turn that up in the ledger. I turn to the page indicated. I turned to the page indicated.
Speaker 1:Here you are, mrs Oakshott, 117 Brixton Road, egg and poultry supplier. Now then, what's the last entry? December 22nd, 24 geese at 7 shillings. Quite, so, there you are, and underneath, sold to Mr Windigant of the Alpha at 12 shillings. What have you to say now? Yesings. What have you to say now? Yes, holmes. What have you to say now? My fiver please. That's right, mr Goose, pay up.
Speaker 1:I pretended to look deeply chagrined. I drew a sovereign from my pocket and threw it down on the slab. But Breckenridge wasn't satisfied. Hold up, hold up, and the fiver for your friend here too. I once again reached into my pocket and drew out a five-pound note which I handed to Watson. Ah, very good, holmes. Always right and proper to honour a bet, after all.
Speaker 1:I turned away with the air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off, I stopped under a lamppost and laughed in a hearty, noiseless fashion. Oh, my dear Watson, when you see a man with whiskers of that cut and a pinkin' you know a betting form from the track protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him in by a bet. I dare say that if I had put a hundred pounds down in front of him, that man would not have given me such complete information as was drawn from him by the idea that he was doing me on a wager. Well, watson, we are, I fancy, nearing the end of our quest. The only point now which remains to be determined is whether we should go on to Mrs Oakshot tonight or whether we should reserve it for tomorrow. It is clear from what that surly fellow said that there are others besides ourselves who are anxious about the matter.
Speaker 1:My remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub which broke out from the stall which we had just left. Turning round, we saw a little rat-faced fellow standing in the centre of the circle of yellow light which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while Breckenridge, the salesman framed in the door of his stall, was shaking his fists fiercely at the cringing figure. I've had enough of you and your geese. I wish you were all at the devil together. If you come pestering me any more with your silly talk, I'll set the dog on you. You bring Mrs Oakshott here and I'll answer her. But what have you got to do with it? Did I buy those geese off you? No, but one of them's mine all the same. Well then, ask Mrs Oakshot for it. She told me to ask you. Well, you're going to ask the King of Prussia for all I care. I've had enough of it. Now get out of here.
Speaker 1:Breckenridge rushed fiercely forward and the Enquirer flitted away into the darkness. Ha Watson, this may save us a visit to Brixton Road. Come with me and we will see what is to be made of this fellow? Striding through the scattered knots of people who lounged round the flaring stalls, we speedily overtook the little man "'and I touched him upon the shoulder. "'he sprang round and I could see in the gaslight "'that every visage of colour had been driven from his face.
Speaker 1:"'who are you, then? What do you want' "'You will excuse me, but I could not help overhearing "'the questions which you put to the salesman just now. "'i think that I could be of assistance to you. You, who are you? How could you know anything of the matter? My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't know, but you can know nothing of this. On the contrary, I know everything of it. You are endeavouring to trace some geese which were sold by Mrs Oakshot of Brixton Road to a salesman named Brackenridge, by him in turn to Mr Windigate of the Alpha, and by him to his club, of which Mr Henry Baker is a member. Oh sir, you are the very man I've longed to meet. I can hardly explain to you how interested I am in this matter. In that case, we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather than in this windswept marketplace.
Speaker 1:I hail the four-wheeler which was passing. But, pray, tell me before we go any further, who is it that I and Dr Watson have the pleasure of assisting? My name is John Robinson. No, no, no, no, no, the real name. It is always so awkward doing business with an alias. Well then, my real name is James James Ryder, precisely so.
Speaker 1:Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray, step into the cab and I shall soon be able to tell you everything which you would wish to know. The little man stood glancing from Watson to myself with half-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who was not sure whether he was on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. Then he stepped into the cab. In half an hour we were back in the sitting-room at Baker Street. Nothing had been said during our drive, but the high, thin breathing of our new companion and the claspings and unclaspings of his hands spoke of the nervous tension within him.
Speaker 1:Here we are. The fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, mr Ryder. Pray, take the basket chair. I will just put on my slippers before we settle this little matter of yours.
Speaker 1:Now, then you want to know what became of those geese. Oh, yes, sir, or rather, I fancy of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine, in which you were interested, white with a black bar across its tail. Oh sir, can you tell me where it went to? It came here, isn't that so, watson? Indeed it is Holmes. It came here, yes, here. Isn't that so, watson? Indeed it is Holmes. It came here, yes, here. And a most remarkable bird, it proved. I don't wonder that you should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was dead, the bonniest, brightest little blue egg that was ever seen. I have it here in my museum.
Speaker 1:Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece with his right hand. I unlocked my strong box and held up the blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star with a cold, brilliant, many-pointed radiance. Riders stood staring with a drawn face, uncertain whether to claim it or disown it. The game's up, ryder. Hold up man or you'll be into the fire. Give him an arm back to his chair, watson. He's not got blood enough to go in for felony with impunity. Give him a dash of brandy, so now he looks a little more human. What a craven shrimp he is, to be sure. For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy brought a tinge of color back to his cheeks and he sat staring with frightened eyes.
Speaker 1:Well, ryder, I have almost every link in my hands and all the proofs which I could possibly need, so there is little which you need to tell me. Still, that little may as well be cleared up to make the case complete. You had heard, ryder, of this blue stone of the Countess of Moorcaz. Yes, it was Carfan Cusack who told me of it. Ah, yes, her ladyship's waiting-maid, holmes. Yes, watson, indeed.
Speaker 1:Well, the temptation of sudden wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, ryder, as it has been for better men before you, but you were not very scrupulous in the means you used. It seems to me, ryder, that there is the making of a very pretty villain in you. You knew that this man, horner the plumber, had been concerned in some such matter before and that suspicion would rest more than readily upon him. What did you do then? You made some small job in the Countess's room, you and your confederate Cusack, and you managed that he should be the man sent for. Then, when he had left, you rifled the jewel case, raised the alarm and had this unfortunate man arrested.
Speaker 1:Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at my knees. For God's sake, sir, have mercy. Think of my father, of my mother. It would break their hearts. I never went wrong before. I never will again. I swear it. I swear it on a Bible, oh. But don't bring it into court. For Christ's sake, sir. At Christmas, don't Get back into your chair, ryder. It's very well to cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of this poor man, horner, in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing. I will fly, mr Holmes, I will leave the country, sir. Then the charge against him will break down. We will talk about that. Now let us hear a true account of the next act. How came the stone into the goose and how came the goose into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies your only hope of safety. I will tell it you.
Speaker 1:Just as it happened, sir, when Horner had been arrested, it seemed to me that it would be best for me to get away with the stone at once, for I did not know at what moment the police might not take it into their heads to search me and my room. There was no place about the hotel where it would be safe. I went out as if on some commission and I made for my sister's house. She'd married a man named Oakshot and lived in Brixton Road where she fattened fowls for the market. Brixton Road where she fattened fowls for the market. All the way there, every man I met seemed to me to be a policeman or a detective. And for all that, it was a cold night. The sweat was pouring down my face before I came to Brixton Road. My sister asked me what was the matter and why I was so pale. But I told her that I'd been upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I went into the backyard and smoked a pipe and wondered what it would be best to do.
Speaker 1:I had a friend once called Maudsley who went to the bad and has just been serving his time in Pettenville. One day he had met me and we fell into talk about the ways of thieves and how they could get rid of what they stole. I knew that he would be true to me, for I knew one or two things about him. So I made up my mind to go right on to Kilburn where he lived and take him into my confidence. He would show me how to turn a stone into money, but how to get to him in safety. I thought of all the agonies I'd gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any moment be seized and searched and there would be the stone in my whiskered pocket.
Speaker 1:I was leaning against a wall at the time and looking at the geese which were waddling around at my feet and suddenly an idea came into my head which showed me how I could beat the best detective that ever lived. My sister told me some weeks before that I might have the pick of a geese for a Christmas present, and I knew she was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now and in it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in the yard and behind this I drove one of the birds, a fine, big one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it and pried its bill open and thrust the stone down its throat as far as my fingers could reach. The bird gave a gulp and I felt the stone pass along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flapped and struggled and out came my sister to know what was the matter. As I turned to speak to her, the brook broke loose and fluttered off among the udders.
Speaker 1:Whatever you doing with that bird, jim, among the others. Whatever you doing with that bird, jim? Well, you said you'd give me one for Christmas and I was feeling which one was the fattest. Oh, we've set yours aside for you. Jim's bird, we call it. It's the big white one over yonder. There's 26 of them, which makes one for you, one for us and two dozen for the market. Thank you, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather have the one I was handling just now. The other's a good three pound heavier and we fattened it expressly for you. Never mind, I'll have the other and I'll take it now. Oh, just as you like. Which is it you want? Then, have the other and I'll take it now. Oh, just as you like. Which is it you want, then? That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the flock. Oh, very well, kill it and take it with you.
Speaker 1:Well, I did what she said, mr Holmes, and I carried the bird all the way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I'd done, for he was a man, it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he choked and we got out a knife and opened up the goose, my heart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone and I knew that some terrible mistake had occurred. I left the bird, rushed back to my sister's and hurried into the backyard. There was not a bird to be seen there. Where are all the geese? Maggie, gone to the dealers, jim. Which dealers? Breckenridge of Covent Garden? But was there another one with a barred tail the same as the one I chose? Yes, jim, there were two barred tail the same as the one I chose. Yes, jim, there were two barred tail ones. I could never tell them apart. Well then, of course, I saw it all and I ran off as hard as my feet would carry me to this man, brackenridge, but he had sold a lot at once and not a word would he tell me as to where they had gone.
Speaker 1:You heard him yourselves tonight. Well, he's always answered me like that. My sister thinks I'm going mad. Sometimes I think that myself, and now and now, I am myself a branded thief, without ever having touched a well for which I sow my character. God help me, god help me.
Speaker 1:There was a long silence, broken only by Ryder's heavy breathing and nervous fidgeting. Then I rose and threw open the door Get out, ryder. Oh, mr Holmes, sir, mr Holmes, god bless you, sir. No more words. Ryder, get out. And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon the stairs and the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls from the street. Ryder had made haste in his flight.
Speaker 1:Well, surely, holmes, we can't just let him run away. What about Horner? Well, after all, watson, I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. If Horner were actually in danger, it would be another thing, but this fellow Ryder will not appear against him and the case must simply collapse. I suppose I am commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul.
Speaker 1:"'this fellow will not go wrong again. "'he is too terribly frightened. "'send him to jail now and you'll make him a jailbird for life. "'besides, it is Christmas, the season of forgiveness. "'chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem "'and its solution is its own reward, and a fine Christmas present to boot. If you would be so kind as to ring the bell, watson, mrs Hudson will bring us that woodcock for supper. Her cooking is sometimes rather unique and mysterious. We may well begin another investigation in which a bird will be chief feature. Oh, watson, there is one more little matter we must clear up. And what would that be? Holmes, my fiver please. Sherlock Holmes Alone, produced by Agnes McVie, recorded by Lester P, adapted and performed by JP Winslow, based on the original writings of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Music writings of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.