Sherlock Holmes: Uneasy Chair 05/13/1946 (Rathbone & Bruce)

Welcome to Choice Classic Radio, where we bring to you the greatest old-time radio shows. Like us on Facebook, subscribe to us on YouTube, and thank you for donating at choiceclassicradio.com. Petri Wine brings you Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce and the new adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The Petri Family, the family that took time to bring you good wine, invite you to listen to Dr. Watson tell us another exciting story about his old friend, that master detective, Sherlock Holmes. As for me, instead of telling you something, I'd like to ask you something. Do you like chicken? How do you like it best? Roasted, fried, or in a stew with dump? Well, whatever your favorite may be, you'll like that chicken infinitely better when it's served with a glass of Petri California Sauter. Now there's a combination, chicken and Petri Sauter. Petri Sauter is a white wine, pale golden in color, delicately fragrant, and clear as crisp. And what a flavor that Petri Sauter had. I'm telling you, Petri Sauter is just about the last word in dinner wine. Well, one more tip. Remember to serve Petri Sauter with fish or any kind of seafood. Good, it's great. To be sure you have a glass of good wine, be sure it's Petri Wine. And now I'm sure our good friend Dr. Watson's expecting us. Let's go and enjoy it. Good evening, doctor. Good evening, Mr. Bartow. Punctual to the minute, as usual. Drop a chair and settle down, my boy. Well, I won't settle down too far, doctor. You have a habit of keeping me on the edge of my chair during most of your story. This should be, Mr. Bartow. I hope tonight will prove no exception. So light up your pipe and I'll get on with my story. Doctor, from the hints you gave us last week, it sounded like quite a thriller. How did it begin? On a cold winter morning in 1897, Holmes and I, our breakfast concluded, sat on other side of a cherry fire in our baker's feet lodging. A thick fog rolled down between the line of done-colored houses, and the opposite windows loomed like dark, cake-less blurs to the heavy yellow wreath. Another London peace super, huh, doctor? Exactly, Mr. Bartow. Our gas was lit and Charlotte's flicking light on the white cloth and glimmer of China for the breakfast table had not been cleared. Holmes was busy cross-indexing his record of crime while I was engrossed in one of Clark's Russell's fine sea stories. Our morning was not destined, however, to be quite one. Shortly after 11 o'clock, Mrs. Hudson hashered a young lady into our room. A young lady? Well, too young, really. I'm Dr. Watson and this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes. How do you do, gentlemen? I must apologize for not giving my name to your heartkeeper, but I have to be so careful. This is a really quick, I don't understand, my dear. Of course, you're wondering who I am and what's brought me here. My own theory would be that you are Ms. Harriet Irving and that you've come to me to elicit my aid in proving that Mr. Binion did not murder your father. Holmes, what on earth are you talking about? You're absolutely correct, Mr. Holmes, but how did you know? I deduced it, Ms. Irving. You're wearing very new and extremely expensive mourning, presumably, for the first time since a few basting threads are still in evidence. You wear no rings, however, and you're not in mourning for a husband. The only man who's dead, the papers announced in the past few days and who left a young daughter wealthy enough to purchase such garments is Sir Edward Irving. And since the police have already made an arrest, obviously wish me to disprove the police theory and intercede for young Binion. Mr. Holmes, you're wonderful. That's just what I want you to do. You will want you. Ms. Irving, I've studied the newspaper reports very carefully. It would seem to me that Scott Van Yard has arrested the right man. I'm sorry, but I didn't read the newspaper reports. I'm the same, sir, dear, which you both talk a lot about. Then let me bring you up to date, my dear fellow. And please correct me, Ms. Irving, if I am making any mistakes. Three days ago, Sir Edward Irving, the father of this young lady, was found stabbed to death in his study. The only entrance to the study is to an anti-room, where his secretary had been sitting ever since Sir Edward was last seen alive. And the secretary swore that no one had entered or left the study. What is his name being Binion, I suppose? Yes, under the circumstances, it's hard to see that any other arrest was possible. And yet I know he's innocent, Mr. Holmes. And how do you know that, Mr. Holmes? We were in love. We were going to be married. I don't care what the police say. A woman knows these things. Robert Binion did not kill my father. Did your father approve of the engagement? Well, no, not exactly. If one were to be exact, Ms. Irving, I wouldn't once say that your father absolutely forbade the marriage. Yes, he did. And Inspector Lestrade assumed that was the motive for the murder. Well, sounds logical, I must say. Does your father have any other relatives living, Ms. Irving? His brother, my uncle Peregrine. He lives a hermit's life in the country. We've seen very little of him in the last few years. Was he left anything under your father's will? No, I was the sole beneficiary. Please help me, Mr. Holmes. If you'll just talk to Robert, you'll know he's not guilty. There's no harm in talking to him, Holmes. After all, our old friend Lestrade handled the case and he's made a good many mistakes in the past. Well, we all owe each other. Well, Ms. Irving, I'll do what I can, but I promise nothing. Yes, you must go. Where is your fiancee being held? That's Scotland Jard. I talked to him there just before I came to you. Scotland Jard, eh? Splendid, eh? We can talk to Lestrade at the same time. Watson, your hat... My hat and coat? Precisely, old fellow, your hat and coat. I'll be right back. So, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson think they know more than they are, eh? Come over here to teach us our business, I suppose. Nothing of the sort, Lestrade. We came over here to make a few inquiries. I'll tell you, gentlemen, that you're wasting your time. Young Binion is guilty, whatever his young lady may say. Mr. Jard? Yes, Mr. Holmes? Oh, what did the autopsy prove? Well, I've got a report of it here on my desk, Mr. Jep. It won't tell you nothing you don't know. Mm-hmm. Death was instantaneous, caused by some weapon like a long needle of fine stiletto or an ice pick, penetrating the brain at the base of the skull. And no such weapon was found in the room? Or on Mr. Binion? True, sir. But then he had the chance of disposing of it. Well, just the same, the murder weapon hasn't been found, has it? No, Doctor, but we'll find it, and she'll worry about that. I'd like to talk to the prisoner if you don't mind. Of course I don't mind. He's in the detention cell just down the corridors from here. Follow me, gentlemen. Has he given you any trouble, Lestrade? Trouble? If all our prisoners were as quiet as him, we wouldn't need no guards, Doctor. Nice quiet, young fellow. Hard to realize he's a murderer, in fact, but still has to be proven and caught, Lestrade. A fact that he's going to be proved in court, Mr. Holmes. Well, here we are at this cell. You've got visitors, Binion. Very distinguished visitors. So, is that one? My name is Holmes, Mr. Lockhombs, and this is my colleague, Dr. Watten. I'm sorry to see you in this sight, Binion. Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then Harriet did come and see you when she left here. I'm so glad. You'll get me out of this mess I know you were. Even Mr. Sherlock Holmes can't get you out of this one, young fellow. Mr. Binion, I promised your fiance that I'd try and hope to. My obvious course is to go to Sir Edward's house and examine the room in which the tragedy occurred. But before I do that, I'd like to ask you a question or two. Ask me any question you want to, sir. It was you who discovered the body I understand. Yes, Mr. Holmes. Please describe the circumstances. Sir Edward was in his study. I had been working in the anti-room adjoining. At five o'clock I went in to say good night to him, and I found him slumped in his chair dead with blood streaming down the back of his head. Of course, I sent the butler for the police at once. Could anyone have entered that room without your knowledge? No, Mr. Holmes. I never left my desk. And there was no other entrance to the room, say, through my office. How about the windows in Sedmontore? They were locked from the inside, Dr. Oh, you don't need to worry. We examined the window edges, not a mark. No one came in that way. Now, what is your theory of the murder, Mr. Binyon? I haven't one, Mr. Holmes, and completely baffled. I'm certain that no one entered that room, yet I swear to you that I didn't stab him. Though I can understand the police believing I didn't. Mr. Holmes, I'd like to examine the room in which the Edward was murdered. What? Easiest thing in the world, Mr. Holmes. I'll drive over with you if you like. He's out here in Nightshark. Oh, you didn't bother us, Dad. We can quite well go by ourselves. We're not a bit of a doctor. I'd like to come with you. Oh, why, Mr. Holmes? You're convinced Mr. Binyon is guilty? Aren't you? Won't you be wasting your time? Not me. Once I know you're on the wrong side of the case, Mr. Holmes, I want to be there and see your faces when you find it out. This is the house, Mr. Holmes. It's imposing living place. I must... Imagine the star that you still have a police guard inside. Oh, yes, Doctor. There's been a sergeant guarding the dead man's room day and night. We still haven't found the missing weapon, you know. Yes, gentlemen. I'm Inspector Lestrade of Scottney Yard. We wish to examine the house. I must see your identification, sir. What are you talking about? I've been in and out of this house for a dozen times. I have my orders, sir. Oh, very well. Yes, Mr. Irvin at home. Yes, Irvin is not receiving, sir. Good. Scottman, can't you give us any information? There's been tragedy in this house, sir, and the truth of it's not known yet. I'm not answering any questions that I don't have to. Here now. Does this police guard satisfy you? Inspector Lestrade. Very good, Inspector. You may come in. May I direct you, gentlemen? No, thank you. I know this house nearly as well as you do. I think not, Inspector. I've served here for 27 years. Gentlemen, if you're not needing me, I'll return to my quarters. Bless myself. That's the thinnest of the things I ever saw. Yes, and he knows something. You see, Lestrade, there is a possibility that Binion is innocent. Yes, sir. I began to see that, sir, when you were talking to the butler. You're being very cryptic. What are the possibilities that I'm talking about? There's a possibility that Binion, the arrested man, is shielding the real murderer. And whom would he be most certain to shield? You mean his fiance, Miss Irwin? That's right, old fella. What? Here we are. This is the anti-room where young Binion worked. And that door there leads into the study where Sir Edward was found. Nothing been touched across since the discovery of the crime? No, Mr. Holmes. That's why we've had a constable on duty in there night and day. Before the trial, we're bringing experts in to test the rules of secret panels or anything of that kind. Let's examine the dead man's room, shall we? Right here, Mr. Holmes. Webster. Webster, get out of that chair and stand up. Can't you? You're on duty. Just leave. Carti, he's dead. Yes. The trickle of blood oozing out from the base of his skull. Well, strike me, Pink. He's being killed the same way as Sir Edward was. I presume you'll agree that Mr. Binion didn't commit this murder, Lestrade. Of course not, Mr. Holmes. He couldn't have done it. He's locked up at the yard. Well, what are we going to do? Ask the butler to come here, will you? Well, right you are, sir. What do you make of their wound, Doctor? Well, the description of the one that killed Sir Edward. It's a fine puncture here at the base of the skull. Roger Holmes, they mentioned a stiletto or an ice pick. A wound like this might be caused by one of those long steel hatpins that women wear. Yes, it's a possibility, Watson. A distinct possibility. And Miss Irvin was wearing a long hatpin this morning, if you remember. Blasted walls. A little chance of secret panels. Here, I should say. There are windows locked from the inside, eh? Here he is, Miss Holmes. By the way, what's your name? Trevor, sir. You see what's happened, Trevor? Yes, sir. I've seen. The constable's been killed just like my master. Now tell me, Trevor, is this room exactly as it was in Sir Edward's lifetime? Yes, sir. Except that my master was not in the habit of keeping the corpses of policemen in here. Don't try to be funny, Trevor. Don't you realize you're mixed up in a murder case? No offense, gentlemen. The point of my question, Trevor, is to find out if any of the furniture in here had been moved lately. Not moved, sir. But there has been a piece of furniture added at armchair of a dead man lying in the same chair in which Sir Edward's body was found. Of course, that's the answer. Trevor, remember that chair delivered? And who delivered it? It was delivered the day before Sir Edward died. It came from Silber Schwanz's antique shop in Bonn Street. Uh-huh. The game's a foot in the start. Seat of the removal of this poor man's body, seal the room, and for heaven's sake, keep this latest death a secret for a day at least. Then that time I hope to have your murderer for you. Then we're going... Trevor, my dear chapter of Silber Schwanz's antique shop in Bonn Street. Those old music boxes are quite charming homes, aren't they? Yes, but where's Mr. Silber Schwanz? This is probably him. Oh, Mr. Silber Schwanz. Yes, gentlemen. You are interested in musical books? No, sir, in chairs. Particularly in the handsomely carved chair you delivered to Sir Edward Irving a few days ago. Ah, yeah, a magnificent specimen. He's key. He was found dead in it, Mr. Silber Schwanz. And half an hour ago, someone else was found dead in it also. That chair was one of a pair, wasn't it? Yeah. Who leave a cut in him? That's impossible. Please, please, to follow me. I'll show you, it's not part... Look. Look at the chair. It's exactly like the same one as Sir Edward's house. Oh, my friend, but there's such a difference. 15th century Italian, isn't it? Yeah, this is one of the pairs of famous malefiero on chair. There are only three pairs in the world, my friends. Of this pair, one, the one I delivered to Sir Edward, is simply a great specimen of the carved art. This one, it's made, looks exactly like it, does it not? Exactly. I can't see any difference, so... You would have you sat in it, old chap. Precisely. That is why I have these cords stretched from one arm of the chair to the other. If anyone were to sit in it well, sometimes nothing will happen. But sooner or later, a hand will press on this hidden spring in the arm here. And death is right. But nothing happened when you pressed the spring then, Mr Silver, sir? No, I don't understand. I do. This is the harmless chair. The lethal one was sent to Sir Edward. He sat in it, accidentally pressed the spring and drove the fatal needle into his brain. Yes, sir. That poor constable did today. Sir Edward bought both chairs, I presume? Yeah, I would not, sir. No, it's a pair separate. Why didn't you deliver both at the same time? He was afraid of the dead, he asked me to keep it here until he found a safe place for it. He found a safe place for it in his home. Some devil switched the arm caught from the fatal chair to the harmless one so that you delivered death to Sir Edward. There is a subtlety in this crime worthy of the fiendish maker of the chairs himself. Silver Schwartz. Yeah, my dear. Did Malapiaridai have been tricked into seating himself in one of his own chairs? Yeah, yeah, he did. Ah, poetic justice. I much obliged you, Silver Schwartz. Now I think I know how to trap our killer. Dr. Watson will bring you the rest of his story in just a second, so I'm just going to tell you that after a good dinner, there's nothing quite like a glass of good Petri California Port. Petri Port is really a wonderful wine. A deep hearty red in color and rich and truly delicious in flavor. You know, Port wine is actually America's favorite wine. Try a glass of Petri Port and you'll know why. Petri Port is not only fine after dinner, it's perfect whenever good friends get together. Just keep in mind the name Petri because Petri wines are good wines. Well, Dr. Watson, this is quite a story you're telling us tonight. So you found out how the murders had been committed, but not who had been responsible for it. That's quite right, Mr. Bartone. Home spent a long time cross-examining Mr. Silver Schwartz, the owner of the antique store, as to who might have had the opportunity of switching the tell-tale cord to the fatal chair. And who did have that opportunity, Dr. Watson? Well, Mr. Bartone, it transpires that four people might have been responsible. Edward's daughter, the secretary, Mr. Binion, had both been in the shop with him at various times. So had the butler, Trevor's. The false suspect was Edward's centric brother, Peregrine, who had appeared and dropped into the shop the day after the purchase had been made. For this last information, Holmes became very excited and launched into eager preparations, which ended a few hours later, when we found ourselves disguised as furniture removers, driving a van along a quiet country lane near Dawking, as we approached the house of the Edward's brother, Peregrine. Hello, Mr. Watson. Ramchackle looking place, isn't it? Yes, it's a dream, Mr. Watson. Why are you so morose, my dear chap? Hardly spoken word on our drive down here. No, you never tell me anything. Why are we trundling off into the wilds of the country, disguised as furniture removers, carrying the harmless chair with us? Surely the reason is transparent, old chap? Yes, it's just about as transparent as doffstocking full of hot tripe. Oh, my dear, what? Surely it's a good idea. Surely it's obvious that we're up against an extremely cunning murderer. Now, what advantage accrues to him in using the malifiero chair? An alibi, of course. He's nowhere near the place where the murder happens, wisely. Apply your logical little further. Three of the suspects, the daughter, Mr. Vinyon, and Trevor, is the butler, live in the house and would almost certainly have been present at the time of death. Therefore, who gains most by such an alibi? Well, the brother. Element, my dear Watson. Now you see why we trundled off into the wilds of talking. That must be Perrigan standing up at the porch. He seems a funny-looking fella. Oh, my dear Watson. Good afternoon, Governor. You fellows must have come to the wrong house. You were Mr. Perrigrine Irvine, ain't you, Governor? Yes. And we come to the right house. All right, all right, all right. Come on, buddy, give us a hand. Right you are, our feet. Well, I will... Definitely one loading and arm-challenging. Go on, get over there, sorry, but you drop it on my foot, buddy. Look at it. Easy does it. Come on, put it. That's right. I got it. All right. That's it. That's it. Give me a crickets. I had a pretty chair, Governor. Very ame was admiring it, and I'll weigh down here. Oh, blummet, enough, a nice chair. Who told you to bring it here? Who does, Governor? Mr. Snitch. What whatever is nice is that you're a man. Order, Governor. Mr. Silver Snitch. What whatever is nice is that you're a brother. Didn't want the chair and said it's our... We were to bring it to you. Put my brother there. Mr. Silver Snitch said he gave the order before he died. Come on, let's sit down and eat, Governor. What's the fuss on that fuss on that? Oh, lummy. A bit of all right, isn't it? Look at him laughing. Who'll wish me old trouble and strife could see me now? Trouble and strife. Trouble and strife. Trouble and strife. That's me wife, Governor. Here, sit down here yourself, sir. Come on, go on, sit down. Try it. Go on, go on, Governor. Take the weight off your plate to me. What barbaric jargon do you speak of, Water? Oh, the plates of meat. Plate to me? It's plate, Governor. That's rhyming slang. That's right. That's right. Rhyming slang. Go on, sit down in it. Go on. There you go. There you go. Aren't you comfortable? Go on. Run your hands over the arms, Governor. That car being pretty. I need just ducky. Yes, yes, it is. But I don't want the wretched thing. There's been some mistake. So you'd better take it back to London and tell them to sell it up. I don't want anything in my brother. Jumping geosophage. Don't see where you don't want to sit in a nice chair like this, Governor. But you're the one that gives the order around here. Come on, putty. Come on, get your bag into it. All right, though. Let's get a bag in the van. All right, come on. There you go. Oh, bless you, Governor. We don't worry about that. It's all a thing, do we, birdie? Of course not. Our food had a nice drive. It can't be any hour, did we? That's right. Let's get these old horses going. Good day, Governor. Good day, Governor. Good day, Governor. Good. That was a false trail. Holmes, obviously, knew nothing about the chair. He thought it was perfectly harmless. And as indeed it was. But the murderer were deported people. I've slipped up in my reasoning somehow. Oh, of course. Oh, what a fool I am. We must get back to London as fast as these tired nags can take us. Come on, get up there. Get up. What's the next move, Holmes? Back to Sadwell's house. I've the staging of a little drama that I'm sure will give us the final answer to this problem. You made all the arrangements, Mr. Holmes? Yes, Mr. Holmes. I've got Miss Irving, young Binion and the butler waiting outside. And no one knows we switched the chairs. Splendid. Are you sure that this is the harmless chair, Holmes? Of course I am. Look here. I sit in it. So, run my hands over the arms. Yes, this chair is harmless as every person save one will know. Tell them in, Mr. Holmes. All at once, Mr. Holmes? No, I think we'll take Miss Irving and Mr. Binion first. Well, right you are, sir. Miss Irving, Miss Binion, come in, please. Very well. Oh, Mr. Holmes. It's a good matter, Miss Irving. It's just so horrible seeing you there in the same chair where I saw Father. Oh, Mr. Holmes, it's a trifle too, McCarbe, before you to assume the position of the corpse. Please get up. But it seems to be the most comfortable chair in the room, and I do like my comfort when I interrogate witnesses. However, it's hardly chivalrous, is it? Miss Irving, please sit down, won't you? I don't like to sit down in the chair in which Father died. Oh, Miss Irving, we couldn't bear to see you standing. Very well then. Don't sit down, Harry. Why not, Binion? What's the matter? Isn't the chair safe? Oh, no, it's not that... And perhaps you care to sit in it. To prove that the chair is safe. No, no, I... Sit down. Very well. There. Splendid. Curious chair, isn't it, Mr. Binion? I wonder about these carvings on the arms. They look almost as if they might activate concealed springs. I wonder what would happen if I... No, if I haven't sakes, Mr. Holmes, they're trying to kill me. Can you? Then you know how say Edward and the policeman were murdered, eh? I... I... I knew it must have something to do with the chair. You knew more than that, Robert. You planned it. I remember now that when we went to the shop, you... Quiet, Harry! Come back here, you! No, no, no, Watson, don't go after them. The straddle stop him, in any case, the policeman at the door. Oh, oh, oh, I'm tired. I think I'll sit in this rather fateful armchair. So it was young Binion all the time, eh? Yes, and he all but outsmarted me. I reasoned that somehow the murderer must have intended the device of this chair to clear him. And suddenly I saw the real motivation. How better establishes innocence than seeming to be obviously guilty than yet leaving a trail whereby an astute deduction could seem to clear him. Yes, his idea with Mr. Irvine came to you. He used you as a... as a tax boy. That's right, Watson. I'm afraid this whole case is a rather humiliating experience, Walter. Oh, why... why do you... The strad had arrested the right man in the first place. Oh, oh, oh, my dear Watson, I shall never hear the end of this. Never! Ha, ha, ha! As usual, Doctor, that was a swell story. Imagine a Lestrade accidentally arresting the right man. Well, he had that one coming to him, poor fellow. He'd been out with it by home so many times, he was beginning to get an inferiority complex. What about Miss Irvine? How did she take it when her boyfriend Binion had proved guilty? Well, when she realized that her sweetest friend was a man, she'd be a man of her own. And she'd be a man of her own. How did she take it when her boyfriend Binion had proved guilty? Well, when she realized that her sweetheart had actually murdered her father, as they say in the Penny thrillers, her love turned to hate. But at first she took it pretty bad. I could imagine so. Mr. Bowtell, my boy, that's one of the disadvantages of being a detective. When you bring the guilty to justice, you very often cause the innocence to suffer too. Believe me, never become a detective. I'm not becoming a wine expert. You're calling me a wine expert? Now, wait a minute, Doctor. All I know about wine is that it either tastes good or it doesn't. And I know that Petri wine always does taste good. And I know why too. It's because the Petri family has been making wine for generations. The art of turning luscious sun-ripened grapes into fragrant, delicious wine is their heritage. Heritage handed down within the Petri family from father to son, from father to son. What particular type wine you prefer is, of course, a matter of your personal taste. But let me assure you of this. Whatever type wine you desire, for any occasion, you can depend on any wine that bears the Petri label. Petri took time to bring you good wine. And today that name Petri is the proudest name in the long history of America's wine. Well, Doctor Watson, what new Sherlock Holmes adventure are you planning to tell us next week? Next week, Mr. Bartel. Now, let me see. Next week. Next week, I'm going to tell you a strange story that took place in one of the smaller states of Middle Europe. It concerns a young prince, a most unusual concert, and a beautiful contralto who sang two days after we'd seen her die at the hands of a firing squad. I call the story the haunting of Sherlock Holmes. Doctor, that's one I've got to listen to. Yes, Mr. Bartel. And everyone should also listen to what Secretary of Agriculture Anderson says about saving used kitchen fat. We've all got to keep turning in every bit of used fat. Take it, your meat dealer, the shortage of fat is worse now than ever it was. And unless we help and we all help, we'll all be faced with a serious shortage of soap. Yes, there's serious shortage of paint, lubricating oils, drugs, and many other things that require fat in their manifest. It's up to us to keep turning in every bit of used kitchen fat. Tonight's Sherlock Holmes adventure was written by Dennis Green and Anthony Boucher and was suggested by an incident in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story, The Must Grow Ritual. Music is by Dean Faulster. Mr. Rathbone appears with the courtesy of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and Mr. Bruce through the courtesy of Universal Pictures, where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series. The Petri Wine Company of San Francisco, California invites you to tune in again next week, same time, same station. Sherlock Holmes comes to you from our Hollywood studio. Music plays This is Harry Bartell saying goodnight for the Petri family. For a solid hour of exciting mystery dramas, listen every Monday on most of these same stations at 8 o'clock to Michael Shane, followed immediately by Sherlock Holmes. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.