The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Page #2

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a garden party on Saturday

at Lady Conyngham's.

I beg you to see me. I'm in

desperate need of advice.

Sincerely yours, Ann Brandon."

What you make of it, Watson?

Somebody's pulling your leg.

No, no, no.

I checked on the young lady.

She lives in town with her brother.

She's very rich, mining fortune.

Her father died somewhat

mysteriously about ten years ago.

As for Miss Brandon's dilemma,

Lady Conyngham is

imminently respectable

but she gives the kind of

parties that one comes away

from with a feeling

that one hasn't been anywhere.

Oh, how can you trifle with

such inconsequentialities

when Moriarty's lose on London?

My dear Watson, you astound me.

It's the very

inconsequentialities of

Miss Brandon's message

that engages my interest.

But Moriarty, what of him?

I've taken the most efficient steps

of keeping in touch with Moriarty.

- You're having him followed.

- Oh, don't be so crude, Watson.

Well, what are you doing?

Nothing.

Nothing?

My dear Watson,

you needn't check me back

as if I didn't have a voice.

I said "Nothing."

That's the best thing I can

possibly do at the moment.

Moriarty is as curious about

my movement as I am about his.

So, I sit here and wait

for him to come to me.

And he'll come.

Never doubt it.

Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba.

So, you fiddle

while Rome burns.

A daring metaphor, Watson.

And what are you doing

with that inferno fiddle,

with those flies?

I was observing the reaction

on the common housefly

of the chromatic scale.

- A brilliant experiment.

- Yes, it will be,

if I can find a note

that annoys the housefly

then might need

only play that one note

and psst

all the houseflies disappear.

- Amazing.

- No, no, no.

Elementary, my dear Watson,

purely elementary.

(Knock at the door)

I expect that will

be the young lady.

On the contrary,

I suggest an elderly gentlemen

with perhaps a touch of

gout in his right leg.

Sir Ronald,

I'm delighted to see you.

How do you do, Holmes?

- Let me take your hat

and stick.

- Oh, thank you, yes.

I don't think you know

Dr. Watson, do you?

Watson, this is

Sir Ronald Ramsgate,

Constable of the Tower of London

where all he has to do is to keep

his eyes on the Crown Jewels.

How do you do, sir?

Holmes has often

spoken of you, Dr. Watson.

You haven't dropped in like this

for a long time, Sir Ronald.

Won't you sit down

and have a cup of tea?

Thank you no, no.

I've come to consult you

on a rather peculiar matter.

Now just have a look at that.

- Doesn't it strike you

that the handwriting is --

- Yes, yes.

That's because it's

written with the left hand.

"Star of Delhi will never reach

the Tower of London."

Huh. Curious,

and anonymous.

And what is the Star of Delhi?

Probably the largest

emerald in the world,

a gift to her majesty

from the Maharajah of Rapur.

Oh, I shouldn't worry

about this, Sir Ronald.

It's a typical crank letter.

Besides, no professional thief would

risk stealing so famous an emerald.

You can't break it up.

He certainly couldn't

sell it as it is.

Perhaps not but in my position of trust

I can't afford to take any chances.

I wonder whether you could

possibly manage to be on hand

when the jewel is delivered.

- Now when will that be?

- This weekend.

It's coming on the

cruiser Invincible.

Oh, Sir Ronald, even though I'm

convinced that the threat means nothing

and that a routine police guard

would be quite adequate,

you can depend on me.

Thank you. Now I feel sure

the jewel will be safe.

Little enough to do for you,

Sir Ronald.

[Knock on the door]

Excuse me.

I don't know what

you must think of me

but I'm sure

I was followed here.

- You are Miss Brandon?

- Yes.

- I am Sherlock Holmes.

- Yes, I know.

- Let me introduce you to

my associate, Dr. Watson.

- How do you do?

Sir Ronald Ramsgate.

Mr. Holmes, I...I--

Well, I've got what I wanted,

so I think I'll be going along.

Good day, Miss Brandon.

- Goodbye, doctor.

- Goodbye, sir.

- Your hat and stick,

Sir Ronald

- Thank you.

- I'm depending on you.

- I'll not fail you.

I'm sure of it.

- Goodbye, sir.

- Goodbye.

Yes, Miss Brandon?

I shouldn't have written you

as I did, Mr. Holmes

and then burst in, in this

melodramatic way but I had to see you.

Oh, that doesn't matter,

Miss Brandon.

There's no more resolutely

informal household in all of

London than mine.

- You're very kind.

- Not at all.

Only I don't understand why

you wish to consult me about

a garden party.

You couldn't possibly find a

worse guide to social etiquette.

It's because my brother

and Gerald Hunter.

He's the family solicitor.

He insist on my going

and I don't want to.

I don't want to.

Yes, but how should I know how

to advise you, Miss Brandon?

Perhaps you should do as

your brother and family

solicitor suggests.

Lady Conyngham is

imminently respectable.

Oh, Mr. Holmes,

I'm so frightened.

What are you frightened of,

Miss Brandon?

Murder.

Sit down, Miss Brandon.

Now suppose you tell us

all about it.

Well, this came for my

brother, Lloyd, in the post

two days ago.

Hmm.

This seems to be a field day

for crank messages.

Look at that, Watson.

Huh? Curious.

May the 11th, that's today.

My father received just such a

note before he was murdered.

Murdered?

Murdered.

Ten years ago on May the 11th.

Scotland Yard

couldn't make anything of it.

But I saw him, my father,

lying there on the pavement

with the back of his head all--

Now tell me, Miss Brandon,

do you associate May the 11th

with anything else besides your

father's death,

I mean, perhaps with some other

incident in your family history?

No, no nothing.

My family has no history.

My father was a self-made man.

I see.

Oh, Mr. Holmes,

you must save my brother.

Don't let them kill him

as they did my father.

[Knock on door]

Jerrold?

It was very wrong for you

to come here, Ann, after I

expressly asked you not to.

No more so

than for you to follow me.

- Where's the paper

you took off my desk?

- Here in my hand

and I'll keep it until

I find out what it means.

I apologize for the intrusion,

gentlemen.

My name is Hunter.

I'm a legal representative for

Miss Brandon's brother.

That note was placed

confidentially in my keeping.

It's of no concern to anybody

except Mr. Brandon and myself.

Murder is a concern of every

right-minded person, Mr. Hunter.

You make too much of a trifle.

There's is nothing trifling

about murder.

Miss Brandon fears this

drawing may be a threat.

Oh, she's been reading

too many novels.

It's merely some kind

of joke or the work of a

mental incompetent.

Isn't it true, Mr. Hunter,

that Miss Brandon's father

received such a drawing

before he was killed?

Since my client attaches no

significance to that, Mr. Holmes,

I don't see why you should.

It's pure coincidence.

Yes.

But it would be unfortunate

if the coincidence turned into

a tragedy, wouldn't it?

That is our responsibility,

Mr. Holmes.

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