Welcome to Sherlock Holmes' short stories. I'm Hugh Bonneville and from the Noiser Podcast Network, this is The Adventure of the Creeping Man, Part 2. Last time, Holmes received an urgent visit from Trevor Bennett, the assistant and future son-in-law of the renowned Professor Presbury of Camford University. Bennett described how the Professor had dignified academic in his 60s had recently pursued a much younger woman. Shortly after being rejected due to his age, Presbury made a secretive journey to Prague, returning with a mysterious wooden box that no one was permitted to touch. Since then, the Professor had undergone alarming changes in behaviour. He received strange letters marked with a cross, kept secrets from his once trusted assistant and exhibited sudden bursts of anger. Most disturbing of all, the Professor's loyal wolf-hound, Roy, had twice attacked him, despite having been a devoted companion for years. As Bennett finished his account, he was joined by Edith Presbury, the Professor's daughter, who reported an even more terrifying incident. The previous night, she had been awakened by the dog's friends in barking to find her father's face, pressed against her second floor window, assuming the impossible feet with no ladder in the garden. Holmes was particularly intrigued by certain dates mentioned in Bennett's meticulous notes, and theorised they might hold the key to the Professor's transformation. He arranged to travel to Camford the following day, believing that the strange behaviour might follow a predictable pattern. Now, Holmes and Watson are headed to the Professor's home to find answers. Monday morning found us on our way to the famous University town, an easy effort on the part of Holmes who had no roots to pull up, but one which involved frantic planning and hurrying on my part, as my practice was by this time not inconsiderable. Holmes made no allusion to the case until after we had deposited our suitcases at the ancient hostel of which he had spoken. I think Watson that we can catch the Professor just before lunch. He lectures at eleven and should have an interval at home. What possible excuse have we for calling? Holmes glanced at his notebook. There was a period of excitement upon August 26th. We will assume that he is a little hazy as to what he does at such times. If we insist that we are there by appointment, I think he will hardly venture to contradict us. Have you the affrontary necessary to put it through? We can but try. Excellent Watson. Compound of the busy bee and excelsia. We can but try, the motto of the firm. A friendly native will surely guide us. Such a one on the back of a smart handsome swept us past a row of ancient colleges and finally turning into a tree-lined drive pulled up at the door of a charming house, girt round with lawns and covered with purple wisteria. Professor Presbury was certainly surrounded with every sign not only of comfort but of luxury. Even as we pulled up a grizzled head appeared at the front window and we were aware of a pair of keen eyes from under shaggy brows which surveyed us through large horned glasses. A moment later we were actually in his sanctum and the mysterious scientist whose vagaries had brought us from London was standing before us. Presbury was certainly no sign of eccentricity either in his manner or appearance for he was a portally large featured man, grave, tall and frock coated with the dignity of bearing which a lecturer needs. His eyes were his most remarkable feature, keen, observant and clever to the verge of cunning. He looked at our cards. Praise it down gentlemen. What can I do for you? Mr. Holmes smiled amably. It was the question which I was about to put to you, Professor. To me, sir. Possibly there is some mistake. I heard through a second person that Professor Presbury of Canford had the need of my services. No indeed. It seemed to me that there was a malicious sparkle in the intense grey eyes. You heard that, did you? May I ask the name of your informant? I am sorry, Professor, but the matter was rather confidential. If I have made a mistake there is no harm done, I can only express my regret. Not at all. I should wish to go further into this matter. It interests me. Have you any scrap of writing any letter or telegram to bear out your assertion? No. I have not. I presume that you do not go so far as to assert that I summoned you. I would rather answer no questions, said Holmes. No. I dare say not, said the Professor with the Spirity. However, that particular one can be answered very easily without your aid. He walked across the room to the bell. Our London friend, Mr. Bennet, answered the call. Come in, Mr. Bennet. These two gentlemen have come from London under the impression that they have been summoned. You handle all my correspondence. Have you a note of anything going to a person named Holmes? No, sir. Bennet answered with a flush. That is conclusive, said the Professor, glaring angrily at my companion. Nouser! He leaned forward with his two hands upon the table. It seems to me that your position is a very question of a one. Holmes shrugged his shoulders. I can only repeat that I am sorry that we have made a needless intrusion. Hardly enough, Mr. Holmes! The old man cried in a high screaming voice with extraordinary malignancy upon his face. He got between us and the door, as he spoke, and he shook his two hands at us with furious passion. You can hardly get out of it so easily as that! His face was convulsed, and he grinned and jibbled at us in his senseless rage. Cry and convinced that we should have had to fight our way out of the room if Mr. Bennet had not intervened. My dear Professor, Bennet! Cry, consider your position. Consider the scandal of the university. Mr. Holmes is a well-known man. You cannot possibly treat him with such discertnessy. Salkily, ah, host, if I may call him so, cleared the path to the door. We were glad to find ourselves outside the house and in the quiet of the tree-lined drive, Holmes seemed greatly amused by the episode. Our Leonard-Friend's nerves are somewhat out of order. Said he, perhaps our intrusion was a little crude, and yet we have gained that personal contact which I desired. But dear me Watson he is surely at our heels, the villain still pursues us. There were the sounds of running feet behind, but it was to my relief not the formidable professor, but his assistant who appeared round the curb of the drive. He came panting up to us. I am so sorry, Mr. Holmes, I wished to apologize. My dear sir, there is no need. It is all in the way of professional experience. I have never seen him in a more dangerous mood, but he grows more sinister. You can understand now why his daughter and I are alarmed, and yet his mind is perfectly clear. Too clear, said Holmes, that was my miscalculation. It is evident that his memory is much more reliable than I had thought. By the way, can we, before we go, see the window of Miss Presbury's room? Mr. Bennet pushed his way through some shrubs, and we had a view of the side of the house. It is there, the second on the left. It seemed hardly accessible, and yet you would observe that there is a creeper below and a water-pipe above, which give some foothold. I could not climb it myself, said Mr. Bennet. Very likely. It would certainly be a dangerous exploit for any normal man. There was one other thing I wished to tell you, Mr. Holmes. I have the address of the man in London to whom the professor writes. He seems to have written this morning, and I got it from his blotting paper. It is an ignoble position for a trusted secretary, but what else can I do? Holmes glanced at the paper and put it into his pocket. Dora, a curious name, Slavonic, I imagine. Well, it is an important link in the chain. We return to London this afternoon, Mr. Bennet. I see no good purpose to be served by our remaining. We cannot arrest the professor because he has done no crime, nor can we place him under the constraint for he cannot be proved to be mad. No action is as yet possible. Then what on earth are we to do? A little patience, Mr. Bennet. Things will soon develop, unless I am mistaken next Tuesday may mark a crisis. Certainly we shall be in comfort on that day. Meanwhile, the general position is undeniably unpleasant. And if Miss Presbury can prolong her visit, that is easy. Then let her stay till we can assure her that all danger is passed. Meanwhile, let him have his way and do not cross him so long as he is in a good humour, all is well. He is, said Bennet in a startled whisper. Looking between the branches, we saw the tall, erect figure emerge from the hall door and look around him. He stood leaning forward, his hands swinging straight before him, his head turning from side to side. The secretary, with the last wave, slipped off among the trees and we saw him presently rejoin his employer, the two entering the house together in what seemed to be animated and even excited conversation. I expect the old gentleman has been putting two and two together, said Holmes, as we walked hotel-words. He struck me as having a particularly clear and logical brain from the little I saw of him. Exposive no doubt, but then from his point of view he has something to explode about if detectives are put on his track and he suspects his own household of doing it. Now rather fancy that friend Bennet is in for an uncomfortable time. Holmes stopped at a post office and sent off a telegram on our way. The answer reached us in the evening and he tossed it across to me. Have visited the commercial road and seen Dorak, Swav, person, Bohemian, elderly, keeps large general store, Mercer. Mercer is since your time, said Holmes. He is my general utility man who looks up routine business. It was important to know something of the man with whom our professor was so secretly corresponding. His nationality connects up with the Prague visit. Well, thank goodness that something connects with something, said I. At present we seem to be faced by a long series of inexplicable incidents with no bearing upon each other. For example, what possible connection can there be between an angry wolfhound and a visit to Bohemia, or either of them with a man crawling down a passage at night? As to your dates, that is the biggest mystification of all. Holmes smiled and rubbed his hands. We were, I may say, seated in the old sitting room of the ancient hotel with the bottle of the famous vintage of which Holmes had spoken on the table between us. Well now, let us take the dates first, said he, his fingertips together and his manner as if he were addressing a class. This excellent young man's diary shows that there was trouble upon July the 2nd, and from then onwards it seemed to have been at 9-day intervals, with so far as I remember only one exception. Thus, the last outbreak upon Friday was on September 3rd, which also falls into the series as did August the 26th, which preceded it. The thing is beyond coincidence. I was forced to agree. Let us then form the provisional theory that every 9 days, the professor takes some strong drug, which has a passing but highly poisonous effect. His naturally violent nature is intensified by it. He learned to take this drug while he was in Prague, and is now supplied with it by a Bohemian intermediary in London. This all hangs together Watson. But the dog, the face of the window, the creeping man and the passage. Well, well, we have made a beginning. I should not expect any fresh developments until next Tuesday. In the meantime, we can only keep in touch with friend Bennett and enjoy the amenities of this charming town. In the morning, Mr. Bennett slipped round to bring us the latest report. As Holmes had imagined, times had not been easy with him. Without exactly accusing him of being responsible for our presence, the professor had been very rough and rude in his speech, and evidently felt some strong grievance. This morning he was quite himself again, however, and had delivered his usual brilliant lecture to a crowded class. Apart from his queer fits, said Bennett, he has actually more energy and vitality than I can ever remember, nor was his brain ever clearer. But it's not he. It's never the man whom we have known. I don't think you have anything to fear now for a week at least, Holmes answered. I am a busy man, and Dr. Watson has his patience to attend to. Let us agree that we meet here at this hour next Tuesday, and I shall be surprised if before we leave you again we are not able to explain, even if we cannot perhaps put an end to your troubles. Meanwhile, keep us posted in what occurs. I saw nothing of my friend for the next few days, but on the following Monday evening I had a short note asking me to meet him next day at the train. From what he told me as we traveled up to Camford, all was well. The piece of the professor's house had been unruffled, and his own conduct perfectly normal. This also was the report which was given us by Mr. Bennett himself when he called upon us that evening at our old quarters in the checkers. He heard from his London correspondent today, there was a letter and there was a small packet each with the cross under the stamp which warned me not to touch them. There has been nothing else. That may prove quite enough, said Holmes Grimley. Now Mr. Bennett, we shall I think come to some conclusion tonight. If my deductions are correct, we should have an opportunity of bringing matters to a head. In order to do so it is necessary to hold the professor under observation. I would suggest therefore that you remain awake and on the lookout. Would you hear him pass your door, do not interrupt him, but follow him as discreetly as you can? Doctor Watson and I will not be far off. By the way, where is the key of that little box of which you spoke? Upon his watch chain. I fancy our researchers must lie in that direction. At the worst the lock should not be very formidable. Have you any other able-bodied man on the premises? There is the coachman McFale, where does he sleep? Over the stables. We might possibly want him. Well we can do no more until we see how things develop. Goodbye. But I expect that we shall see you before morning. It was nearly midnight before we took our station among some bushes immediately opposite the hall door of the professor. It was a fine night but chilly and we were glad of our warm overcoats. There was a breeze and clouds were scudding across the sky, obscuring from time to time the half moon. It would have been a dismal vigil where it not for the expectation and excitement which carried us along and the assurance of my comrade that we had probably reached the end of the strange sequence of events which had engaged our attention. If the cycle of nine days holds good then we shall have the professor at his worst tonight. Sit home. The fact that the strange symptoms began after his visit to Prague that he is in secret correspondence with a Bohemian dealer in London who presumably represents someone in Prague and that he received a packet from him this very day all point in one direction. What he takes and why he takes it are still beyond our Ken but that it emanates in some way from Prague is clear enough. He takes it under definite directions which regulate this ninth day system which was the first point which attracted my attention. But his symptoms are most remarkable. Did you observe his knuckles? I had to confess that I did not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. I had to confess that I was not. Points in one direction. How could I miss seeing the connection of ideas, those knuckles? How could I have passed those knuckles and the dog and the ivy? It's surely time that I disappeared into that little farm of my dreams. Look out Watson. Here he is. We shall have the chance of seeing for ourselves. The whole door had slowly opened and against the lamplit background we saw the tall figure of Professor Presbury. He was clad in his dressing gown. As he stood outlined in the doorway, he was erect but leaning forward with dangling arms as when we saw him last. Now he stepped forward into the drive and an extraordinary change came over him. Now he stepped forward into the drive and an extraordinary change came over him. He sank down into a crouching position and moved along upon his hands and feet, skipping every now and then as if he were overflowing with energy and vitality. He moved along the face of the house and then round the corner. As he disappeared, Bennett slipped through the hall door and softly followed him. Come, Watson, come! We saw the crud homes and we stole as softly as we could through the bushes until we had gained a spot once we could see the other side of the house which was bathed in the light of the half moon. The professor was clearly visible, crouching at the foot of the ivy-covered wall. As we watched him, he suddenly began with incredible agility to ascend it. From branch to branch he sprang, sure of foot and firm of grasp, climbing apparently in mere joy at his own powers with no definite object in view. With his dressing-down flapping on each side of him, he looked like some huge bat glued against the side of his own house, a great square dark patch upon the moonlit wall. Suddenly, he'd tired of this amusement and dropping from branch to branch, he squatted down into the old attitude and moved towards the stables, creeping along in the same strange way as before. The wolf-hound was out now, barking furiously and more excited than ever when it actually caught sight of its master. Straining on its chain and quivering with eagerness and rage, the professor squatting down very deliberately just out of reach of the hound and began to provoke it in every possible way. He took handfuls of pebbles from the drive and thwondled them in the dog's face, prodded him with a stick witty and picked up, flicked his hands about only a few inches from the gaping mouth and endeavoured in every way to increase the animal's fury, which was already beyond all control. In all our adventures, I do not know that I've ever seen a more strange sight than this impassive and still dignified figure, crouching frog-like upon the ground and goading to a wilder exhibition of passion, the maddened hound which ramped and raged in front of him by all manner of ingenious and calculated fruit, and then in a moment it happened. It was not the chain that broke, but it was the colour that slipped, but it had been made for a thick-necked newfoundland. We heard the rattle of falling metal and the next instant dog and man were rolling on the ground together, the one roaring in rage, the other screaming in a strange shrill false setto of terror. It was a very narrow thing for the professed life. The savage creature had him fairly by the throat, its fangs had bitten deep, and he was senseless before we could reach them and drag the two apart. It might have been a dangerous task for us, but Bennett's voice and presence brought the great wolf hound instantly to reason. The uproar had brought the sleepy and astonished coachman from his room above the stables. I'm not surprised," said he, shaking his head. I've seen him at it before and I knew the dog would get him sooner or later. The hound was secured and together we carried the professor up to his room, where Bennett, who had a medical degree, helped me to dress his torn throat. The sharp teeth had passed dangerously near the carotid artery and the hemorrhage was serious. In half an hour the danger was passed. I had given the patient an injection of Morphea and he had sunk into deep sleep. Then and only then were we able to look at each other and to take stock of the situation. I think a first-class surgeon should see him, said I. For God's sake, no, cried Bennett. At present the scandal is confined to our own household. It is safe with us. If it gets beyond these walls it will never stop. Consider his position at the university, his European reputation, the feelings of his daughter. "'Quite so,' said Holmes. I think it may be quite possible to keep the matter to ourselves and also to prevent its recurrence, now that we have a free hand. The key from the watch chain, Mr. Bennett. Macphail will guard the patient and let us know if there is any change. Let us see what we can find in the professor's mysterious box." There was not much, but there was enough. An empty file, another nearly full, a hypodermic syringe, several letters in a crammed foreign hand. The marks on the envelopes showed that they were those which had disturbed the routine of the secretary, and each was dated from the commercial road and signed a dohrach. They were mere invoices to say that a fresh bottle was being sent to Professor Presbury or receipts to acknowledge money. There was one other envelope, however, in a more educated hand and bearing the Austrian stamp with the postmark of Prague. Here we have our material, cried Holmes as he tore out the enclosure. Honored colleague, it ran. Since you're esteemed, visit I have thought much of your case, and though in your circumstances there are some special reasons for the treatment, I would nonetheless enjoy caution, as my results have shown that it is not without danger of a kind. It is possible that the serum of Anthropoid would have been better. I have, as I explained to you, used black-faced Langoer because a specimen was accessible. Lango is, of course, a crawler and climber, while Anthropoid walks erect and is in always nearer. I beg you to take every possible precaution that there be no premature revelation of the process. I have one other client in England and dohrach is my agent for both. Weekly reports will oblige. Yours with high esteem H. Lovenstein. Lovenstein. The name brought back to me the memory of some snippet from a newspaper which spoke of an obscure scientist who was striving in some unknown way for the secret of rejuvenessence and the elixir of life. Lovenstein of Prague. Lovenstein, with the wondrous strength-giving serum, tabooed by the profession because he refused to reveal its source. In a few words I said what I remembered. Bennett had taken a manual of zoology from the shelves. Langoer, he read, the great black-faced monkey of the Himalayan slopes, biggest and most human of climbing monkeys. Many details are added. Well, thanks to you Mr. Holmes it is very clear that we have traced the evil to its source. The real source, said Holmes, lies of course in that untimely love affair which gave our impetuous professor the idea that he could only gain his wish by turning himself into a younger man. When one tries to rise above nature one is liable to fall below it. The highest type of man may revert to the animal if he leaves the straight road of destiny. He sat musing for a little with the file in his hand, looking at the clear liquid within. When I have written to this man and told him that I hold him criminally responsible for the poisons which he circulates we will have no more trouble. But it may recur. Others may find a better way. There is danger there, a very real danger to humanity. Consider Watson that the material, the sensual, the worldly would all prolong their worthless lives. The spiritual would not avoid the call to something higher. It would be the survival of the least fit. What sort of cesspool may not our poor worlds become. Suddenly the dreamer disappeared and Holmes the man of action sprang from his chair. I think there is nothing more to be said Mr. Bennett. The various incidents will now fit themselves easily into the general scheme. The dog of course was aware of the change far more quickly than you. His smell would ensure that. It was the monkey, not the professor whom Roy attacked, just as it was the monkey who teased Roy. Climbing was a joy to the creature, and it was a mere chance I take it that the pastime brought him to the young ladies window. There is an early trained town Watson. But I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the checkers before we catch it. Next time on Sherlock Holmes short stories, Holmes and Watson investigate an ill-fated transatlantic love story in the adventure of the noble bachelor. When the daughter of a California millionaire marries into one of England's most prestigious families, the match seems perfect, until the bride vanishes during her own wedding breakfast. Scotland Yard suspects foul play at the hands of the groom's jealous ex-lover. But Holmes is convinced the real explanation is far stranger. A secret message hidden in a bouquet, a mysterious ghost from the past, and a sodden wedding dress floating in the serpentine, all pieces of a mystery that only Sherlock can solve. That's next time.
