The Undying Monster Page #3

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gets on the trail of a ghost...

its haunting days

are practically over.

Toodle-oo. See you at

lunch if not before.

Golly, I'm famished.

I do hope that bloodthirsty

spook hasn't raided the pantry.

Oliver!

Hello, Helga. I say, old girl, don't

look so startled. I'm all right.

I woke before the scheduled time

and even Jeff had to admit...

there was no necessity

for my staying in bed.

Oh, I'm sorry. This is my brother

Oliver. Mr. Curtis from Scotland Yard.

Glad to see you, Mr. Curtis. Oh, it's

a bit late to do anything for poor Kate.

- She's- - No, she's

alive but still in a coma.

Even if we find the answer to this,

it won't help her much, I'm afraid.

- I see the local police are already on the job.

- Yes. They just got here.

Not even the constable would venture

out in these parts until broad daylight.

I tell you it was those Clagpools.

No, no, Warren. We can't

jump to conclusions.

We haven't found any tracks,

neither of them nor their dogs.

Constable, this is Mr. Curtis.

Oh, Mr. Curtis. I've been expecting

you, sir. Well, I got your wire, sir.

- And nothing's been disturbed.

- Interesting case you have here, Constable.

I wouldn't exactly say that

"interesting" is the word, sir.

What about those poachers, Constable?

It could have been them, of course.

We're dealing with something more

serious than a couple of poachers.

- Have you examined the spaniel?

- We have that, sir.

No teeth marks or other clues as to

nature of what attacked him, I suppose?

- No, sir.

- Strange he didn't warn you of the approach of your assailant.

I know it sounds fantastic, but is

there a possibility he didn't see it?

Even a supernatural being would

have to take on material form...

in order to inflict

such serious injuries.

I think perhaps we can find an explanation

for all this without calling in spooks.

- Could you tear a dog that size to pieces, Constable?

- Well, perhaps not.

- Two men could between them.

- Or perhaps a large animal.

I might say yes, but nothing that

size has passed through here lately.

Now anything big enough to do a thing

like this would have to leave tracks.

Not necessarily. How

about a big monkey?

I suppose you've checked up to find

out if one has escaped anywhere?

There's no shows in the vicinity, sir.

- There's a zoo about eight miles from here.

- A monkey. Seems a likely notion.

It's a possibility, of course.

Shall I check up on it, sir?

- Can't do any harm.

- Right, sir.

Who's that fellow in the velveteens?

That's Warren, Kate's fianc.

They were to have been married.

Poor fellow. He's all broken up.

You don't really

believe that ape theory?

No. But it'll give them

something to play around with...

- then they won't have time to worry about me.

- Do you have any theory at all?

It's too early to

form an opinion yet...

but we have to figure on something

with almost superhuman strength...

who tears with grasping

paws and bites ferociously...

whose approach even

a dog can't sense...

who comes and goes, heaven knows

how, without leaving any tracks.

- Find anything?

- Nothing of any importance.

Mr. Curtis and Miss Christopher will

be stopping with us a few days, Walton.

Uh, yes, sir.

Oh, my dear, I do hope

you will forgive me...

but I prevailed upon your

butler to serve luncheon in here.

So much cozier than that

enormous, gloomy dining room.

I'm glad you did. The fire

feels good after that fog.

Miss Christopher, I want you

to meet my brother Oliver.

- How do you do, Miss Christopher?

- Why, you poor, dear boy.

What a ghastly experience that

must have been for you last night.

Oh. Oh, come and sit by me

and tell me all about it.

You know, I'm awfully

rude not waiting for you...

but luncheon comes but once a day, and

I thought it was a pity to spoil it.

I could do with a couple of

those pork sausages myself.

I always make it a practice never to

hunt down ghosts on an empty stomach.

You know, my dear, ghosts

don't like nice, warm rooms.

There doesn't seem any point in tempting that

spook of yours to barge in while we're eating.

Don't tell me you've already

decided it's here in the house?

Well, you can laugh if you want

to, but there's something here.

Something strange.

Very strange.

I can feel it.

I should have warned you.

Miss Christopher suffers from an

overdeveloped "supercalaphegalus. "

- A super-cala-what?

- Feminine instinct.

Good gracious! What was that?

Door slamming, I

imagine. Wind's come up.

I thought I heard someone scream.

It's probably Millie, the new maid.

Her hair's been standing on

end ever since last night.

- Maybe you better go and see, Mrs. Walton.

- Yes, miss.

Millie!

What's the matter with you?

The monster! It's here in the house!

- Are you out of your mind?

- I tell you it's here, in there!

It slammed the door right in my face!

Be quiet, girl. You don't

know what you're saying.

- There's nothing in there.

- Mr. Oliver didn't see nothing last night, either.

I tell you there's something

in there. Even if there ain't-

- Ohh! What was that?

- I don't know.

- What was that?

- Clanking chains. What did I tell you?

Seems to be coming from

the direction of the crypt.

- There's a crypt in the house?

- Yes. Down in the cellar. Sir Magnus is buried there.

Let's have a look around.

Splendid. Maybe we'll catch

the ghost with his shroud down.

Brrr! This place is colder

than a tax collector's heart.

- Everyone seems to be resting in peace.

- By daylight, at least.

Who's the crusader?

Sir Reginald Hammond. He lived in King

Richard's time. Was killed in Palestine.

Is that supposed to be the monster?

I told you there isn't any monster.

If that's a lapdog, I'm a canary bird.

- Do you make anything of it?

- It might be meant for anything on four feet.

People have always bred the

dog into fantastic shapes.

But that's no canine tail. And those round paws

- Hmm. It's rather curious.

- Who's this beautiful specimen of manhood?

- Sir Oliver.

Now why would such a handsome

man want to kill himself?

It's a sort of a junior

Westminster Abby, isn't it?

Yes, Miss Christopher. It's been the

family burying place for 500 years.

Oh, Miss Hammond. You admitted that

there was a legend in the family.

- Why not trot it out so we can all have a look at it?

- I've told you everything I know.

Well, you didn't tell us about

all these ancestors of yours...

who were killed by

this so-called monster.

Or who killed themselves

after meeting it.

- Why do you insist on hiding-

- Now look here, old man-

Is there by any chance a reason why you

don't want this brought out in the open?

Certainly not. I'm

only thinking of Helga.

She's had enough to worry

her since the other night...

- and I see no point in upsetting her unnecessarily.

- It's all right, Jeff.

I'm sorry, Miss Hammond. I

don't mean to distress you-

Exactly what is it you

want to know, Mr. Curtis?

What about this chap who sold his soul to the

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