Broadway Is My Beat: The Case of the Exhumed Client

Oh, my God.

I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord. He that believeth in me, although he were dead, shall live.

And he that liveth and believeth.

Shall not die.

Unto Almighty God we commend his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope that at the resurrection he will rise again to everlasting life.

Amen. Well, that completes the formal contents of Sir Charles's will. May I be the first to congratulate you, Sir George, as the new heir to Farnsworth Castle?

A mass of crumbling stone and a morbid legend. Oh, plus an estate with a handsome revenue.

All our legacies were most liberal, Mr.

Clarkson.

My brother was a generous man.

He was a bully and a bragger.

George, please.

Charles is dead now. He treated you more like one of his hounds than his wards, Sylvia.

And you know it. Henry.

You can now do what you've always dreamed of doing. Buy your own medical practice.

Two thousand pounds. I'm overwhelmed.

I suppose that finishes the will, Clarkson?

Well, not quite, Sir George.

Your cousin Charles added a most unusual codicil.

Having made many enemies in my life.

and suspecting that any one of them may be tempted to bring my earthly days to an abrupt end... I hereby direct, no matter how I die, that Sherlock Holmes be engaged to investigate the circumstances of my death.

Sherlock Holmes?

The detective. But it's absurd. Charles died from a heart attack.

You signed the death certificate yourself, Rees. I won't allow Holmes to investigate.

I'm afraid Mr. Holmes has already commenced his investigation. A court order was issued this morning.

A court order for what?

The exhumation of Sir Charles's body. The autopsy has been completed. Sir Charles died from arsenic poisoning.

Our Elizabeth.

It's incredible.

Who could have done it?

Arsenic.

Only one of us.

You or I or.

Henry or Sylvia.

Oh, no.

Not Sylvia, no.

She had no reason.

She had the same reason we all had.

Charles' death set her free just as it set the rest of us free. Are Holmes and Lestrade still.

Up in the tower room?

Yes, and Dr.

Watson is there, too.

Why is Holmes so interested.

In the tower room?

Because Charles died there, I suppose.

Or perhaps Mr.

Holmes is interested in the letter room.

That ridiculous, gruesome legend. Murder's what I believe in, Holmes, not legends. Well, you know, the strange legends are sometimes put to surprisingly modern uses.

By the way, what is the legend, Holmes? Well, it dates back to the Wars of the Roses.

A sentry fell asleep here one night while on watch.

As a result, they chopped his head off.

Ever since that time, anyone who sleeps here is supposed to die.

Nonsense.

Quite. And yet Sir Charles slept here, and he did die. It's a coincidence. He'd already taken the poison. He had to die somewhere.

You know, that window is much too narrow for anyone to get in or out.

With that door locked, this place becomes a classic sealed room.

It was arsenic that killed him, Holmes, not the room. Or the legend. Or the legend.

Dr.

Watson, you read the autopsy report. What's your opinion?

Well, there is one thing that struck me as odd. This is January. Yet Sir Charles had eaten grapes the night he was poisoned.

What's that got to do with it? Well, you don't very.

Often find grapes in January.

Not in England, anyway.

Clever, Watson. Grapes in January, eh?

Yes.

Arsenic. Out of this jar. And someone in this room gave it to him. Each of you gained from his death.

We all had access to that drawer, Inspector.

The arsenic was used for garden spraying. Anyway, Charles didn't eat or drink a single thing that night.

The rest of us didn't.

Then why weren't all of you poisoned too?

Miss Farnsworth, what prompted your brother to sleep in the tower room the night he died? I prompted him, Mr. Holmes.

I challenged him to.

Oh, really?

Why?

To put his constant bragging to the test. It started at dinner that night.

Elizabeth, your meals are getting progressively more inedible.

If you can't do better, I suggest you find your own home and run it.

I'll try to do better, Charles.

Elizabeth, I liked your dinner. What do you know about decent food? What do you know about anything?

I know how to run your estate for you.

And a mess you're making of it, too. With half the tenants overdue in their rents. I won't sweat a man's rent out of him, Charles. You'll get the rest of the rents by tomorrow, or out you go, bag and baggage.

What have you got to say to that?

I'll collect the rents by noon tomorrow. Why must you always humiliate us, Charles? Have you no decency, no human feelings?

I'm not a weak knee like George here, if that's what you mean.

Courage isn't always physical, Charles.

Courage? Do you remember the time I locked you in the tower room? You screamed like a stuck pig.

I was seven years old, not a.

Big brave man like you. What do you mean by that?

You dared lock a little boy in that room. But you never dared spend a night in it yourself.

You think I believe that stupid legend?

Yes.

And fear it.

Just as you fear anything you cannot hear or see or touch. You locked me in to frighten me. Because you yourself would have been frightened.

Get me a candle.

I'm spending the night in the tower room.

But, Charles, you mustn't.

You're horrid.

If you were frightened.

Don't talk like an idiot, Reeves. Frightened of what? An old wives' tale?

I will fetch him the candle.

I had to break open the tower room next morning.

I found him dead.

Interesting.

What kind of grapes were served at dinner that night?

Grapes?

No grapes were served. We haven't had grapes in the house for months.

Then who gave Sir Charles the grapes he ate that night? Because he did eat grapes. That's how he was poisoned.

No one gave my brother grapes, Inspector.

You're wrong. The murderer did.

Mr.

Ray, the grapes won't solve your case, you know. The solution lies in the tower room. Now, look here, Holmes, we've already gone into all that and.

And I'm going to find it. How can you do that, Holmes?

By spending the night in the tower room myself. Mr. Holmes, I think you are wrong to take the legend of Farnsworth Castle so lightly.

On the contrary, Miss Farnsworth, I'm taking it very seriously.

Then be on guard, Mr.

Holmes, and stay awake.

Holmes, how can you possibly solve the mystery here?

Quite simply, Watson. The murderer is going to try and kill me.

Why?

Because I'm Sherlock Holmes.

Can I stay with you?

No, thanks.

All the same, my boy.

Holmes, if anything happens... You will.

Shout, won't you?

Yes, yes. Loud and strong.

Oh, my God.

Watch him. Watch him.

Holmes? Holmes!

Holmes! Poison.

Watson, I'll get you back to my room. Arsene, Watson, quickly, the antidote.

Arsene?

Oh.

He's very cunning, Watson.

Yes, maybe, Holmes, but I don't understand. After all, you and I ate the same thing the entire evening. Watson, I think I know the killer's secret. Perhaps, perhaps I'd better go out and wake Holmes.

It is getting rather late.

Not that I believe in any of this superstitious nonsense, mind you, but... But you do believe in murder, eh, Dr.

Reeves?

Holmes! Well, it seems that everyone is surprised at my appearance this morning.

Perhaps relieved is a better word, Mr.

Holmes.

I dare say there's somebody who's not very relieved. What are you talking about?

I was poisoned last night.

I am alive this morning thanks to a bit of good luck and some ingenious foresight on the part of Dr.

Watson.

On the afternoon that Dr. Watson learnt the.

True cause of Sir Charles's death, he ordered the ingredients of an arsenic antidote from the local chemist. I wonder who, sitting at this table now, is cursing that foresight.

Do we have to be afraid of every bite we put into our mouths?

Not every bite, Sir George.

Only food with a flavor strong enough to conceal the taste of arsenic. Something like grapes, for example. If you want to know who poisoned the grapes, I can tell you that, too. The person who bought the grapes in a London fruit shop on the days that Charles died.

I rather imagined you'd trace those grapes, Lestrade. Who did, in fact, buy them?

Miss Sylvia Taylor.

You're lying.

Let her answer that, Sir George.

Yes.

I bought them.

Sylvia. And gave them to Sir Charles when he was in the Tower Room?

Yes.

But I didn't poison them.

I swear I didn't.

For some reason which he did not yet explain, Holmes doubted Lestrade's case against Sylvia Taylor. Furthermore, he reasoned that the killer would take refuge in her arrest, letting the case end there and accepting his own safety. He revealed to me that our only hope was to force the killer into making another move in spite of himself. The first step was publicly to denounce Lestrade's case in such a way that the inspector himself would be convinced that he needed more evidence. This, Holmes hoped, would frighten the killer.

More evidence? You could spend a lifetime going over this place with your magnifying glass. And I wouldn't even attempt it. But a whole battery of men could accomplish it in a very short time indeed.

Now look here.

A whole battery of men?

Strade, how soon do you think you'll get up here sufficient men from Scotland Yard to carry out a systematic and thorough search?

Tonight, maybe. Certainly by tomorrow morning.

Just a moment here.

This is my home.

I think Sir George is going to be rather anxious that they come armed with a search warrant. I'll get in touch with the Yard to meet you, sir. Watson, you're sure no one's left the house? Bobby on the door said nobody had gone in or out all day. Well, I hope we haven't been out too long.

On this.

It's been a very tiring time, Holmes, watching every move that's being made and getting nowhere.

Yes, we can't afford to let out now, Watson.

The pressure's really on him, you know. He's got fear to contend with. Oh, Holmes, why do you keep crossing to that window? You know, I think it's your pacing up and down all day.

that's made me more nervous than anything else.

There it is, Watson.

Why?

Quickly, Watson, the tower room.

Coming, Holmes.

Watson, would you go downstairs immediately and tell this train to bring our four friends up here? Who do you want to? As I had hoped, the killer has left us all the necessary components of a trap.

Well, you'd better hurry, Watson. We have little time to lose.

Right.

Won't you sit down here?

Just what's the point of this séance exactly, Holmes?

We're going to find a murderer, Lestrade.

Yes, but why here?

Perhaps the legend's going to tell us.

Yes, Lestrade, the legend. The weird tale of a headless sentry.

And the most convenient one for the murderer, who didn't anticipate an autopsy.

Yet why did he choose this room to murder in?

What is the mysterious connection between the tower room and death?

Please stop. I don't want to stay here any longer.

I'm sorry, Miss Taylor, but we must stay here and wait. Perhaps all night.

Who knows?

But this is insane. I.

I don't.

Feel very well. Could we open the window?

I'll open it for you, Elizabeth. It is getting rather stuffy in here.

Don't bother, Dr. Reeves. I've already tried to open it myself. It's quite impossible. My head is spinning.

You've got to open the window.

I feel faint.

Please open the window.

I've already told you, Miss Farnsworth, it's quite impossible.

I don't believe you. We'll make him open the window.

Elizabeth, calm yourself. It's just this eerie room that's getting on your nerves. That confounded wind.

It's enough to send you out of your mind.

Mr.

Holmes.

Can't we settle this downstairs?

Please try to be calm, all of you. As I said before, we may have quite a long wait here.

Let me out of here. Elizabeth!

Open the window!

Do something!

Stop it!

Isn't it better off without.

You going out?

You fools!

You don't understand!

We've got to have help!

I haven't seen.

Come in the window!

Let me go! Let me go! It will kill us all!

It really wasn't necessary to smash the window, Miss Farnsworth.

Oh, Watson!

There's a package in that drawer behind you. Bring it to me, will you?

Yes, of course.

You see, Miss Farnsworth, I took the precaution.

of replacing your arsenic candles with harmless ones.

Of course, you couldn't be aware of that, could you?

Arsenic candles?

Yes, Lestrade.

Like the one that killed Sir Charles. Sir Charles died of poison grapes. Oh, no, Lestrade.

It was a far more ingenious method of killing than that.

A small room, a.

Tiny window, and a candle impregnated with arsenic and giving off fatal fumes.

Ingenious, yes.

And it's practical.

You can inhale arsenic as a gas.

Follow it up, sir.

You see, Lestrade, the person who placed those candles there... wasn't going to sit through the night and wait for death.

She had to give herself away.

I'm sorry to upset all of you, but.

Quite frankly, I didn't know which one of you it was.

But, Holmes, why did she choose this room to destroy the candles?

Because this was the only room in the castle that she could be sure would be deserted that night. The legend, you see.

THE END

Broadway Is My Beat: The Case of the Exhumed Client

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