Sherlock Holmes Faces Death Page #6

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known as Hurlstone Towers.

Neverfield and King's

Hargrave domino 1539.

What we're looking for

is underneath here

that's what the ritual

meant by deep down low.

It's a burial crypt.

Up with it.

I say there's

somebody down there.

Who is it?

Is it Brunton?

Is it Brunton?

I don't know.

Stay where you are.

Who is it, Holmes?

It's Brunton all right.

Is he dead?

Yes.

He's been dead for hours.

Murdered.

Hello, what's this?

Henry by the grace of god,

King of Great Britain,

France and Ireland,

defender of the faith.

What have you found?

Any clue, any clue?

Uh, no, um.

Just an old document.

Hello.

What's this?

Looks like some

sort of writing.

Watson.

Coming.

hold this for

me, will you?

Steady.

They're on the floor

by his right hand.

See those marks

in the dust

like pin scratches made

with his fingernail.

Yes.

Yes.

See that stuff

under his nail?

He was trying to

write something.

By Jove.

He did write something.

What is it?

Aye, tell us man.

What did he write?

I can't make it out.

It's too faint.

Here.

I've got good eyes,

let me, let me.

Stay where you

are, all of you.

These marks must

not be erased.

What are you going

to do, Holmes?

I'm going to leave

this just as it is

until I can get the

proper chemicals

to bring out the words.

Have you no notion of

what he tried to write?

Yes I have.

I think that Brunton

with his last strength

wrote the name of his

murderer on that floor

in his own blood.

Now there you

are, Lestrade.

Huh?

Twelve o'clock.

I was just

saying, Lestrade,

that I should get

into New Castle,

pick up my chemicals

and be back here

not later than

noon tomorrow.

Why yes, Mr. Holmes.

Meanwhile you all have

your work cut out for you.

Watson.

Yes.

You'll guard this

door with your life.

Of course I'll...

With what?

I said with your life.

Anything you say, Holmes.

There's no entrance

to this cellar

except through

that doorway.

And Holmes what

I feel... huh?

Brunton's murderer's

in this house

and he's bound to

make one last effort

to get down there to

erase those marks.

Naturally.

Lestrade's men are

posted outside

and they'll see to it

that nobody

leaves this house.

Concentration camp.

My men have orders to

shoot if necessary.

I'll be outside

myself keeping watch.

Good.

Sexton your post will

be at Miss Sally's door

and remember she's in more

danger than anyone here.

Don't worry I'll look

after her, Mr. Holmes.

Good night.

Good night, Holmes.

Oh, Dr. Watson, if you

want any help, sing out.

I don't mind saying

I feel a lot safer

if I had a gun on me.

Huh, I always

keep mine ready.

Good night Bob,

keep awake old man.

I will.

That's funny.

It's striking

twelve again.

Let me out of

here, you hear?

Let me out of here.

Someone locked this door.

What on earth's all

this monkey business.

I didn't lock you in.

Well doors don't

lock themselves.

They do in this house.

What are you doing

down here anyway?

I'm worried is

about Langford.

Langford?

Yes, he's got

into his head

that this is a

Jap prison camp.

He's got that

filthy rope

and he's bound and determined

to go out the window.

He can't do that.

Lestrade's men

will shoot him.

He may be out already.

I'll head him off.

Then again he may not be.

Perhaps you're right.

Then let me go.

No, no.

You'll be shot.

I'll go.

No, you'll be shot.

Oh really?

Let's both go.

I can't leave here.

You stay where you are.

I'll go and call Lestrade.

Remember Clavering,

stay where you are.

Ere.

Look here, Constable.

I'm Dr. Watson.

Are you now?

Well I'm Mrs. Minivar.

Come along to

the inspector.

Gross impertinence.

Useless.

Quite useless,

I assure you.

There's nothing

written on the floor.

It was just a

rouse of mine

to bring Brunton's

murderer here.

Permit me.

As the most ruthless

killer in England

you deserve some

of the light.

Killer, I?

Oh I say, you

seem to forget

that my life was

also attempted.

And a very neat

trick it was

to divert suspicion

from yourself

but it struck

me as odd

that the man who

murdered both Musgraves

with such a sure hand

should have missed

so badly in your case

unless of course, um,

you yourself were

the murderer.

Ahh, that's ridiculous.

Then too it seemed curious

that you a doctor

examining both bodies

and failed to report

the real cause of death.

And that was?

A sustural needle thrust

up into the brain

between the base

of the skull

and the cervical

vertebrate.

I had the unpleasant duty

of removing this

piece of a needle

from Phillip

Musgrave's head.

It couldn't be yours by

any chance, could it?

I never owned one.

Oh yes you did.

I saw it in your case

the night I came

into this house

just after

Geoffrey Musgrave

was found murdered.

It wasn't broken then.

It was only when you

killed Phillip Musgrave

that you lost

a piece of it.

Nonsense.

Why should I go around

sticking needles

into people?

A fair enough

question, doctor.

Among nice people

murder like matrimony

generally has a motive

and in this case the

motive was matrimony.

Oh you mean Miss Sally?

I do.

Oh I see so you think

it's a case of

murder for profit.

Precisely.

My dear Holmes.

That won't do.

The Musgraves

are lamb poor.

Everybody knows that.

Exactly.

But everybody didn't

know what you knew.

You worked out

the meaning

of the Musgrave ritual.

I have?

Oh.

Yes.

You have.

You claimed you

knew nothing

about the game of chess.

When I suggested

you'd moved

off your proper square

you promptly named

king's bishop three

and what's more

moved back onto it.

Nonsense.

Why shouldn't I have stepped

out of my square in the first...

Mess up my moves,

spoil my game

and protect me

from finding

what you had

already found.

And that was?

The old land grant

I took from this box

which would have

made Sally Musgrave

upon the death

of her brothers,

the richest

woman in England.

Now what's that?

Don't tell me you

found another needle?

No, no.

It's just a button.

It wouldn't be

yours, would it?

Mine?

Clearly.

Thank you.

Would you mind telling me

why you think I was

down here with Brunton?

No, not at all.

As I see it you killed

Phillip Musgrave

in his own room,

carried his body down

through the secret passageway,

out through the

greenhouse into the garage

where you crammed it into the

rumble seat of that roadster

but unfortunately for you,

you had a witness.

Brunton was there,

sleeping off his drunk.

Nursing a grudge

against Phillip Musgrave.

Brunton became

your accessory.

But you didn't

want an accessory

so you lured him down

here with a promise

to share the Musgrave

treasure with him

and exit Brunton.

Very ingenious,

Mr. Holmes.

You seem to

have everything

except perhaps the

negligible item of proof.

Suppose we leave

that to the jury.

Suppose we do.

Shall we go?

After you.

And by the way,

don't forget your torch.

Oh, thanks.

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