The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn Page #2

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Yes.

Hello! It's a report from

the police laboratory.

- Really, sir?

- Yes.

Let's see... Analysis of fluff

taken from night watchman's

trouser cuff.

Discovered were fragments

of wool, cotton,

fine ash from Turkish-type cigarette,

particles of dried mud

from a limestone district...

...and a quantity of low-grade

industrial soot or coal dust.

Really, sir? And what was

the analyst's conclusion?

This suit needs cleaning.

- God!

- File that will you Brown?

- At once, sir!

We interrupt our story to bring you

a word from mister Maurice Ponque.

My name is Maurice Ponque...

And I live in a little

log cabin in Piccadilly.

Last night, I left a burning

cigarette by my bedside

and the 'ole place was burned down.

And the night before last,

my fire insurance ran out.

And we did not get a penny.

My, how we did laugh, heh-heh,

when we - heh-heh - heard about it.

Mister Ponque has nothing

to do with our story.

We thought you'd like to see

what a real idiot look like.

Six months later. The public

are pressing for an early arrest.

Assistant Commissioner,

Sir Jervis Fruit,

rings Superintendent Quilt

with an urgent inquiry.

Hello, Quilt. Have you a light?

A light? Certainly sir.

- Thank you.

- All right, sir.

Quilt, look, about this

Mukkinese Battle-Horn thing,

something must be done, you know.

Quilt, I want you to call at

every music shop and pawn shop,

masquerading as a musician, and

inquiring for a Mukkinese Battle-Horn.

Have you got that?

- Yes sir. Yes, yes.

Good. Whatever you do,

take every precaution,

and don't get yourself killed.

Oh, I don't know, though...

What was that?

What was that Brown?

Brown, what is that?

- It's a magnifying glass, sir!

Control, Brown, control!

A stone!

- With a message tied to it.

What does it say?

- Fred Smith, Window Repairer.

Fourteen A Hurley Street.

Why, that's fourteen A

Hurley Street's address!

Yes, and no more than

a stone's throw from here.

Yes sir.

Brown, we'll start our search there.

- Business must be good.

- Yes, sir.

Come on!

Puss, P*ssy, pussel, puss.

Kitty kitty ketchup.

Kitty! Kitty! P*ssy!

Come on out of there now

you naughty Tibble pussel.

- Henryyy!

- What is... come...

- Henryyy!

- Come on, Tibbles.

- Henryyy!

- What is it Minnie, I...?

Henry, there is someone

knocking at the door.

What is... what is?

Dear, I can hear someone

knocking on the door.

Knicky, knacky, knocky at the door!

Minnie, I can't hear what you're

saying for that knocking noise!

Tell them to stop that knocking!

I can't hear you!

I think there's someone I'm not sure...

Would you mind not knocking

for a moment, please?

- Certainly.

- Thank you.

Now, what was it, Min?

- There's someone at the door, Henry.

No, no, there isn't Minnie.

- No, there isn't, is there, Henry.

- No, no, no...

Sorry Buddy, good night.

Good... Good night, Minnie.

Good night, Min.

It's all right, you can carry on now.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

- Henry!

- Now what is it?

There's someone

nicky-knocking at the door!

There's NOT a nicky-knocking

needle nardle noo!

Look, I'm telling you, there's...

Look, you stupid old cow, there's

no-one there, I'm telling you!

Aargh! Aargh!

You naughty old...

There's nobody there, I'm telling you.

Good evening. Won't you please come in?

Brown, this may be dangerous.

I want you to stick around here

and keep your eyes open.

- Right.

- Alright.

Don't forget, Brown.

Keep a sharp watch out.

Right.

- Good evening.

- Good evening.

Uh, I'm think of taking up music

and I'm looking for a...

a Mukkinese Battle-Horn.

- You can't get them, you know.

- Why is that?

- You can't get the wood, you know.

- I see.

- Poor old Molly Gnasher.

- What about her?

She couldn't get the wood either.

Perhaps some other time.

Well, good night.

Good... good night.

Good night, mother.

Good night, darling.

Don't be late now.

Good heavens, sir! Isn't that the lady

you questioned at the museum?

I think we'll...

The mysterious blonde led Quilt

and sergeant Brown to Maxie's Club,

a notorious hangout of

London's Underworld.

Brown? I want you to get a

message through to Scotland Yard

to say that we're coming

here and we want...

Yeah?

I haven't knocked yet.

- Sorry.

Yeah?

- Are you mister Maxie?

Such is my name.

I'm sorry to bother you, mister Such.

Will mister Maxie be along?

I am mister Maxie.

Then you weren't very long, were you?

We were wondering if we could

get into your club here.

You were wondering if you

could get into my club here?

- Yeah. - No. - Why not?

This is a specially-fitted,

reinforced, double-strength,

armour-plated door, and

nobody can get through it.

- Then how did you get in?

- Easy. I came through there.

Cunning, very cunning.

Anyone we know?

- No, sir.

- Brown?

- Yes, sir?

You'd better stick around

and see what clues you can find.

Very good, sir.

Oh, beauteous one. Oh, fairest

of the fair! Sublime siren!

Exquisite enchantress. What are

you doing in a low hovel like this?

I gotta make a living too, y'know!

Why, you're not a girl, you're a man!

I know that!

But don't tell the manager.

- Why not?

- We're engaged!

Wait, I see it all now.

You can't! I ain't taken

off the veils yet.

Ha, haaa, ahee, ahigh, ahoo!

Brown, where are you! Brown!

- Yes, sir?

- Brown, where are you?

- Where are you, sir?

- I'm behind this curtain, Brown.

- Good heavens, sir!

What a brilliant place to hide!

- Thank you, Brown.

- By the way, that dancer...

- Yes?

Wasn't that the man you

interrogated at the museum, sir?

Yes, and that's not all, Brown.

At last I begin to see

the whole sinister plot.

- What do you mean, sir?

- I'll show you. Waiter!

- Sir?

- Bring me the manager.

Somebody call?

Yes. This, first the night

watchman, and then...

Good heavens, sir!

The curator of the museum!

Yes! Alias Doppleganger Wormscrew,

head of an international ring of

Mukkinese Battle-Horn smugglers!

Curses! Unmasked! Waiter!

Be careful, sir!

This might be a devilish trick!

Gad! Minestrone!

And no salt!

Brown! Quick, Brown!

The eleventh hour but

nevertheless in the nick of time.

Bah! Outwitted by a neat

and audacious trick!

Enough. Come!

Stay at the tops sparrow.

Trich!

Passage!

When!

Good heavens! He's gone!

Hahaha!

- Touch!

- Three-ch!

Four-ch!

Fiend!

Brick!

Oh, blood! Oh!

There! That's put an end

to your nefarious activities.

Nothing can save you now. Not all the

king's horses, not all the king's men!

- Defend the King!

- Defend the King!

- Brown, help me!

- Excalibur!

Down with the Lurgi! Have at you!

I'm dying! I die!

I don't want to die!

- Brown?

- Yes, sir?

Who is this girl?

That's the producer's girlfriend, sir.

- What?

- You think I'm kidding?

- Have at you!

- Have at you!

But I've got to die! It's

in the script! I'm dying!

Oh, what a wonderful world we live in!

It's all rather confusing, really.

No, I don't! I want to live!

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