Sherlock Holmes Faces Death Page #5

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was murdered, don't you?

No.

Yes you do and you

think Brunton did it.

No.

You think he carried him

down through the greenhouse...

No, no.

Over to the garage...

No, he never.

And crammed his body into the

rumble seat of that roadster.

Don't you try and put

the blame on Alfr...

I'll put the blame

on both of you.

You're in this together.

You were in his room last

night, I saw you there.

Only to talk about

the ritual, sir.

He, we,

he thought that he'd

got it all worked out.

Did he leave any

notes, any record?

No, that is...

Oh come on,

come on, out with it.

Only this, sir.

I found it this morning

under the soap dish

on his washstand.

Huh?

Hastily written.

Another jingle?

Yes.

Obviously in

some agitation.

If any harm

should come to me

fleshly or spiritual

seek and you

will find the key

in the Musgrave ritual.

The old ritual,

there it is again.

Watson, we've got to

find that ritual.

It's the key to

the whole business.

Just a minute, you

can't talk to Sally.

Why not?

She's in such a state

and I had to give a hypo.

All right come on.

Draw the curtains, Watson.

There must be a

copy of that ritual

somewhere in this room.

She had to learn

it, you know.

Yes, you're right.

Here it is.

I doubt it.

Empty.

Quite.

There's only one thing

to do, search the room.

Not the room, Watson.

Her mind.

We must search her mind.

Obviously she took great

pains to hide that paper.

But why should

she hide it?

Put yourself in her place.

Her brother Geoffrey

was murdered.

The man she loves is

accused of that murder

and thrown into jail.

On top of that

she finds her brother,

Phillip, murdered.

What would your

reactions be?

Well naturally I should

be terribly upset.

Obviously.

Excuse me.

She's brought

back to this house

in a state bordering

on hysteria.

She comes through that

door, goes to that desk,

throws on her gloves.

The first thing

her eye lights on

is the Musgrave ritual.

In her mind it's tied up

with all the disasters

that have

befallen Hurlstone.

She herself may be

the next victim.

She must hide that paper.

You're quite

right, but where?

Excuse me, sir.

Was she alone in

this room at any time

before you gave

her the hypo?

Certainly not.

Nora was here.

She helped her into bed

while I went for my bag.

Good.

Nora?

Yes sir.

When you were alone

with Miss Sally

what was the first

thing she did?

Well sir, she asked me

to turn down her bed

and lay out

her nightdress.

And what was she

doing in the meantime?

Let me think, sir.

Oh yes, she went

over to her desk.

Uh-huh.

That was when she took the

ritual from this envelope.

What then Nora?

Then she asked

me to step over

and draw the curtains.

Why someone's

pulled them open.

Yes, I know.

When you drew the curtains

you turned your back on her?

Sure.

And it wasn't more than

two shakes of a lamb's tail.

Long enough.

When you were at the

window where was she?

She was sitting

over here,

sitting right here

taking off her stockings.

Oh but she never

left the chair.

I'll kiss the book on it.

I've got it.

She must have packed that

paper under this cushion.

Huh?

She must have

changed her mind.

Obviously.

Well she could have

hidden it anywhere here.

What time was it

when you brought her

in here, Watson?

I haven't the

faintest idea.

The clock was striking

the quarter hour

when I came in, sir.

I definitely heard it.

This clock?

The same, sir.

Thank you, Nora,

you may go.

Obviously this clock was

running at twelve fifteen

just as obviously it

stopped at twelve twenty.

When Nora turned her back

Sally reached across,

opened the clock

and hid the

ritual in here.

Amazing, Holmes.

Elementary, my

dear Watson.

Where fell the light on

the face of the messenger.

Where did he speed?

To guard the queen's Page.

Gibberish, that's

what it is.

Hokey, pokey.

A thing like

this, Watson,

that's been handed

down for centuries

can't be mere gibberish.

Who had entered the lists?

The king's pale knight.

Pale poppycock.

I say, Watson.

King, queen,

knight, bishop.

Sounds like a game

of chess to me.

Precisely.

Where fell the light.

The light, Watson.

Follow the light

on the face of

a messenger.

Look at it, Watson.

Look at it, like a

giant chessboard.

This is no gibberish.

These are chess terms and

that's the chessboard.

The secret of the

Musgrave murders

is locked up

in that floor

and by Jove, we've

got the key to it.

Oh, that entered

the lists.

The king's pale knight.

White king's knight to

white king's bishop three.

Your move, Dr. Sexton.

I really know nothing

about the game.

Come on Bob.

It's great fun.

You start from over here.

There, here.

I'll show you.

I'll show you.

One,

two,

three,

one.

Page to the

black king three.

Your move Clavering to

back king three please

over there.

There's not to reason why.

Page slaughters page.

Your move, Watson.

I take you, my dear.

It's a good

game, isn't it?

Stop it, stop it.

You mustn't giggle.

You must be serious.

You're move, Clavering.

You take Dr. Watson.

Too bad, doctor.

Who came then

to slay him,

the bloodthirsty bishop.

White queen's bishop,

to white king's

knight five.

That's my move.

One, two.

I say, doctor, you

moved, didn't you?

Did I?

I don't think so.

Yes, I'm afraid you did.

Oh, where was I on

king bishop three?

That's right.

Oh yes, of course.

So sorry.

Three, four, five.

Captain it looks

bad for you.

All right but

where shall I go?

Where shall he go?

Deep down below.

Mrs. Howells what's

underneath this floor?

Well it's only an

old cellar, sir.

The entrance goes down

behind that stair

but it's been locked

up for centuries.

One of the old Musgraves

murdered his own

brother down there.

Shhh listen.

Hello what's that?

It's Brunton.

Alf, Alf?

He's in that passageway

over the fireplace.

Are you there, Brunton?

Get me out.

It's me, Lestrade.

I'm lost.

I'm all turned around.

You have been for years.

Get him out there,

will you Mrs. Howells

and give him a

saucer of milk.

Come here Jenny.

Stand on this

square for me

and stamp on it,

keep stamping.

Clavering, get your

sound detector.

Gentlemen, deep

down below.

Look there's not

been a soul here

in a couple of

hundred years.

Someone's been here

and in the last

twenty-four hours.

Yeah, it's clean

as a new pin.

Precisely.

Dust of two hundred

years is on the walls.

The floor's

been swept clean

obviously in an attempt

to remove footprints.

Listen.

That's Jenny in

the hall upstairs.

Clavering,

let me have your

sound detector.

So sorry.

I must find the exact spot

under that square

I marked in the hall.

Don't move, anyone.

Someone's moving about

interfering with what

I'm trying to do.

Stand perfectly

still everybody.

This is the spot.

Lend me a hand.

Of course.

Here lies the body of

Ralph Musgrave, knight,

the lord of the

manors of Hurlstone.

This place used to be

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