Dressed to Kill Page #3

Right.

Goodbye.

Boo!

Oh, you startled me.

- Did I?

- Yes.

Must be the pixie in me.

I know I shouldn't have

called you so late

but I was at a party

just around the corner

and I remembered

your invitation

to see your collection

of musical boxes.

My dear, Mrs. Courtney,

pleasure is all the greater

for being so unexpected.

- My friends call me Hilda.

- Thanks.

Mine call me Stinky.

Stinky?

How quaint.

Oh, what a perfectly wonderful

collection of musical boxes.

You know, when you told

me you had a collection

- I had no idea that it was so attractive.

- Yes.

They appeal to the ear

as well as to the eye.

Oh, what a plain little one.

Why it looks just like a country

cousin Amid all this grandeur.

Now, now, now you mustn't

underestimate the country cousin.

Only last night a

burglar broke in here

and with all these

to chose from

- went off with one very much like it.

- Really?

Yes, I don't mind the

loss the box so much

but I do resent this

crack on the skull.

But it makes you

look so interesting.

- Do you think so?

- Uh-huh.

- That's funny, that's what old fatso said.

- Fatso?

I mean Doctor Watson.

He was here this evening

with a friend, a Mr. Holmes.

He's interested in

my collection too.

Sherlock Holmes?

Yes.

Do you know him?

I've heard of him.

Yes, he seems to think

I'm in some sort of danger.

What a haunting tune. It takes me

right back to my childhood.

Really?

You know it's odd that you should be

interested in that particular musical box.

- Odd, why?

- Cause Mr. Holmes is also interested in it.

He may have been more interested in

the tune than in the box.

My dear, yes, that's right.

I remember now.

He whistled it note for note

having heard it only once.

Really? He must be

a remarkable man.

Bit of an alarmist

if you ask me.

Don't you believe

in warnings?

Of course not.

Who'd want a

box like that?

I would.

You're not serious?

Oh, but I am.

Well, you put me at a

very awkward position.

I'm a collector you know

and a collector buys

but never sells.

But if the price

were high enough.

The price has

nothing to do with it.

It's the principle

of the thing.

Yes, well we haven't

had our drink.

No thanks, I must be

getting along.

- Must you really?

- I'm afraid so.

You're not walking

out on me are you?

My reputation, Stinky.

I say, you know you are

an attractive woman.

Thanks.

You fool.

I told you to wait outside.

What did you have

to kill him for?

All I had to do was

walk out with this.

- He held you in his arms.

- Don't touch him.

Don't touch anything.

Now get out!

- I'm sorry.

- You're sorry?

What about me?

This is murder.

What about Scotland Yard?

What about Sherlock Holmes?

Now get out!

Did you get it?

Good.

Did you have any

trouble with him?

Just a matter of murder.

- Ah, Mr. Holmes.

- Hopkins.

Thanks for coming

so promptly.

Inspector Lestrade suggested

that I call through to you.

- Mr. Emery was a client of Mr. Holmes,

Inspector. - Indeed.

You didn't mention that when

I telephoned you, Mr. Holmes.

Well not exactly

a client, Inspector.

- Sergeant Thompson?

- He was killed between the hours of eleven

and two o'clock this

morning, Mr. Holmes.

Must have been

someone he knew.

Someone of whom

he had no suspicion.

Poor old Stinky.

It's all my fault.

I should have prevented this.

Well, it's no time to start

talking about that now, Doctor.

Apparently, it's gone.

That's the second attempt

on the musical box

that Emery bought

at the auction sale

and this time

it was successful.

But that box is only

worth two pounds.

It's worth a man's life,

Watson.

I think we'd better pay a visit to Gaylord's

Auction Room and that fellow Crabtree.

Inspector may I suggest

that you make a complete

search of this flat

for a small plain musical

box about that size.

Thank you.

Come on, Watson.

You say the first box

went to Mr. Julian Emery,

the second, Mr. Kilgour,

143B Hampton Way,

and the third to the

unidentified young lady

who presumably has a shop

and lives near Golders Green?

That's right Mr. Holmes.

Isn't it rather strange,

Mr. Crabtree,

that you've had three identical musical

boxes, all playing the same tune?

- Where did they come from?

- Dartmoor Prison.

- Dartmoor? - We get a regular shipment

from there every month.

The inmates

manufacture them.

Well, they make all kinds

of things you know?

Pipe racks,

wastepaper baskets,

- musical boxes.

- Did you happen to notice

if anyone showed any particular

interest during the auction

in the purchases

of these three boxes?

Oh, come now, Mr. Crabtree,

this is very literally a

matter of life and death.

Well, since you put it

that way, Mr. Holmes,

there was a gentleman came in here

about an hour after closing time.

And he was in an

awful state, he was,

he gave me five pounds to tell

him where the boxes had gone.

He said they had sentimental

value for him, sir.

Expensive sentiment.

Can you describe him?

Well he was tall,

distinguished looking

and he had gray hair

and a mustache.

He was quite a gentleman, sir.

And what was his reaction

when you were

unable to supply him

with the address of the young

lady who owned the shop?

I told him that the young lady

usually come back on Thursday.

He said he'd come back on

Thursday and that's tomorrow.

Thank you Mr. Crabtree, you've been

very helpful. Thank you.

Come along, Watson.

- Where we going now, Holmes?

- The home of Mr. Kilgour,

the man who bought

the third box.

But hang it all, Holmes,

how do you know those other two

musical boxes are of any importance?

I don't, but I certainly

have no intention

of waiting till the owners

are murdered to find out.

No one at home.

I hope that's

the explanation.

Well, have a look

through this window.

Doesn't seem to be

anyone there.

Whole place seems deserted

as far as I can see.

- Yes?

- Mr. and Mrs. Kilgour at home?

- No.

- When do you expect them?

Oh, in an hour or so.

There's no use

you're hanging about.

They don't buy nothing

from peddlers.

Peddlers?

My good woman this is

Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes?

Oh, go on.

Do you mind if we

come in and wait?

My business is

rather urgent.

Well, I've got to go out

to do my shopping

and I don't know if

Mrs. Kilgour

would like any strangers

nosing about.

Quite all right,

I assure you.

Well, I've got to be off.

You two wait in the parlor

and no smoking either.

Mrs. Kilgour says it

smells up the house.

- Funny old girl, Holmes.

- Hmm.

- Park Lane.

- Park Lane?

And what would the likes of

you be doing in Park Lane?

Now don't worry

about the fare, ducky.

If ya knows how to get

to Park Lane, now off it.

You know, Holmes,

I've been thinking.

There must have been

something hidden

in that box of

old Stinky's.

Stolen jewelry possibly.

- What's up Holmes?

- Listen.

Well, it's just the steam

in the water pipes.

Watson!

Great Scott!

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