Smallbone Deceased | Inspector Hazelrigg | BBC Radio Drama | Death Was Only the Start

Ladies and gentlemen, Ladies and gentlemen, thoughts of all present tonight will naturally turn first to the great personal loss. the very great personal loss so recently suffered by the firm by the legal profession and if I may venture to say so without contradiction by the British public. >> Abel Hornimman our founder and our late Senior partner was a man whose name will be long remembered. He was not only a great lawyer, he was also a great businessman. Some of you will remember his boast. In 30 seconds, I can lay my hands on any paper which

has come into this office over the past 30 years. How many firms of solicitors, I wonder, could say the same. He was a grand old lawyer, a man who had perfected himself in every branch of a Solicitor's work, a man who asked nothing of his subordinates. >> If you hit me again with one of those bread pellets, John, I shall type any more private letters for you in office. I >> delve the fruits of his knowledge. >> He died as I'm sure he would have wished to die in honey. His guest was a month ago

that I >> really is rather an inspiring thought That the last words he ever wrote should have been, "Unless we hear from you by an early post, we shall have no option but to institute proceedings." There's [snorts] a touch there. The old warrior dying with his lance taste of the fire. >> Yes. >> A grand old lawyer, the founder and the inspiration of his firm of our firm perhaps I may say of our happy family burley and crane. [applause] Mr. Boo, I'm Miss Cornell, in case you've forgotten. >> Oh, yes. You're Mr. Hornman's. I mean,

you were Mr. Hornman's Secretary. I >> still am. I've been handed down. I've been devised and bequeezed. I'm young, Mr. Hornman Secretary. Now, >> of course, that's his son, isn't it? >> The new partner. But come and meet some of the staff. Not that it'll take you Long to get to know. This is Miss Tittering. She works for Mr. Burnley and Miss Belbeck who works for John Cole. God help her. >> How do you do? >> I'm Henry Boon. I only joined the firm this afternoon. >> Why should it be such penance to have to

work for Mr. Cove? Miss Bel. >> Oh, I expect the things he says. >> I see. And uh how long have you been with the Firm, Miss Chittering? >> So long I never admit to it now. I fear people might start guessing my age. >> It must be quite a responsibility to work for Mr. Burley. It was a very uh interesting speech he just made. >> Oh yes, he's very clever, isn't he? Right. >> I can never understand a word he says. >> I don't think I was really cut out for that. >> You mustn't

believe a word of it. What a Spelling test we he trust and puny mortgage and the light of pure phonetics. [laughter] Never mind Miss Belvass. What a brains besides beauty. >> Well, what are they? >> Who's the glamorous red head? >> What? Oh. Oh, that's Anne Mile. She works for Tubby Clay. Look, I suppose it's time to go, but it's far too early to go to bed. Let's have a drink somewhere. >> All right. I know a place in Shbury Avenue which stays open till midnight. All that message terrainment or building together the outbuildings, farm

buildings, cottages, barn sheds, closets and other buildings of a permanent or quai permanent nature erected thereon and several brothel. I I beg your pardon, Mr. K. >> Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Belbats. The word was a buffles. Afraid my eyesight isn't quite what it should be this morning. >> I expect it with all those drinks you Had last night, Mr. King. >> Oh, >> you need a cup of coffee. >> That's a very sensible idea for him. >> Thank you. >> See if you can get the sergeant to produce a cup. Two cups. Mr. Boon will

have one as well. >> I'd love one. >> Okay. >> I must say I'm uh feeling a bit at sea with these cards. >> Yes. I suppose I better begin your education now. Those filing cards you've got in front of you, they're Hornman case index cards. At the top, you'll see the name of the client. On the left, in purple ink, a series of letters, and on the bottom, in pencil, a number. >> But do we have to number all our letters? Then >> every letter written in this office is numbered, top copy and carbon,

press copied for the letter book, and stamped For outgoing mail. The carbon is then filed and indexed. >> Nothing else. I mean, surely you send a copy to the times. Now, files. Once a file is closed, it may go into a number of different places. If the client is a grade three client, one whose affairs are of small importance or who himself possesses only minimum status, >> the younger son of younger sons of dukes. >> You're getting [snorts] the hang of it nicely. Well, his files will go down to the T- room. A secondass client

travels the same route, but ends up in a locker in the munament's room. But our first class clients >> has a box. >> Right. And no ordinary box. Look at this. >> The venerable the Arch Deacon of Melchester DD. It's larger than most deed boxes, isn't It? >> Yes. Not only that, it's most unusual feature is Look, you try opening it. >> It doesn't budge. >> Yeah. >> You have to open it with a jerk. What a contraption. That rubber lining around the inside of the lip seals it. I suppose almost hermetically seals it. In

fact, surely an ordinary deed box is good enough. >> It was commonly believed in the office That once years ago, one of Abel Hornimman's leases had the signature eaten off by a mouse. A mishap which gave rise to expensive litigation in the chancellory division. Accordingly, he sat down and devised the hornman dustproof, moisture proof, airproof, and indeed mouse proof deed box. I see >> Mr. Crane wants you, Mr. Cove. >> Cursing. All right, an >> Miss Mild to you. >> Stop trying to put me my place, Anne. Tell him I belong in a minute. >>

And take the bachelor file with you. I gather Mr. Crane wants to discuss the arithmetic in your completion statement. >> Does he though? Have you got all you want, Mr. Boon? >> Thank you. John Cove has been initiating me gently into some of the mysteries of the Hornman office system. >> It scared me at first, but cheer up. You get used to it. >> Oh, can you tell me who's going to do my Work? >> Well, that'll be Mrs. Porter. She should be in the secretary's room. >> Thank you. I'll have a word with her.

>> But the stars are against me. Look what it says. Avoid the sea at all costs. >> But you can't go altering your holiday, Flory. You bought your ticket. >> Last month it was all right. It said you will find fortune and a good companion on the great waters. But now it's so definite. Avoid the sea. Your happiness Lies in the hills from some of money expended now. You will reap a modest benefit in 14 days time. >> Now wait. >> Ah yes I have it. Of course. >> What is it? Well last month's paper

doesn't actually mention the sea. It says great waters. >> Yes. It's as clear as can be. You must take your holidays in the Lake District, Great Waters, and High Hills. >> Yes, I suppose you. >> And the last bit is quite clear, too. You must take a cheap fortnightly return ticket. That'll save you a modest sum in 14 days time. >> You must make it a walking tour, Flory. You can have that walking stick, the one that Duke of Lax are left in the waiting room, and Miss Cornell will lend you her big green rucks

sack. >> Oh, have you got a [laughter] rock sack, Miss Cornell? Since you're so kindly lending everybody Else's belongings, why not start with your own dressing case? >> Oh, no. Oh, really? You wouldn't want that on a walking tour, would you, Florence? >> Why is made of crocodile skin? >> If your dressing case is crocodile, my fur coat's polar bear. >> I was assured when I bought it. It was absolutely genuine crocodile. >> Eve home, Miss Bel. We've got to do it all again. >> I should never have thought it. >> Thought what? >> That

your fur coat was polar bear. >> That's just it. It isn't. But you said >> my l you really are the most literal creature on earth. If I said to you I'm dying of hunger, would you hurry out to summon the undertaker? Would you search yourself for traces of strawberry jam? Is somebody accused you of being a >> Mr. K the dutch of ashby de laz questions Relating to her claims for da left tenant general fires size marriage settlement number three rever the metropolitan of Albania private affairs. >> Ah Miss Cornell >> I was looking

for the law list. Well, now you're here. I wonder whether you'd help me to sort things out. What I really want to know are the practical points. Uh, who works for who? Who am I under? Uh, who signs my letters, for instance. >> Well, I'm not sure. If they're going on with the old arrangements, I suppose I'll be working under Bob Hornman. >> I see. But, uh, look here. If Bob's taking over his father's work, and I'm taking over Bob's work, I mean, what are all these cards? Are these the things Bob used to do

himself? >> Let's see. There's nothing much here to worry about. Look, you really want some stuff to get your teeth into. I'll slip you some of Bob's. He's got some matters There that even tied his old man up. >> You liked working for Abel Hornman, didn't you? >> Well, yes, I did. He was a great man. He really was. And a good man to work for, too. I ought to know. I was his secretary for 19 years. >> What do you think of this, Miss Cornell? It's from Rumble and Carter about the Stokes Will Trust.

They say, "According to your request, we endeavored to contact Mr. Smallbone to secure his Signature to the proposed transfer of stock. We wrote to him in closing the transfer form in duplicate on the 23rd of February and send him a further communication the 16th Ultimo and the 8th inst. If Mr. Small Bone is absent abroad or indisposed Small Bone, isn't that the funny little man father used to dislike so much?" I don't think your father and Mr. Smallbone got on Very well, Mr. Hornan. Unfortunately, they were co-rustees. >> Oh, yes. The Kabod Stokes Trust. >>

Yes. Otherwise, I think he'd have refused to have anything to do with him. >> I remember the fellow. A sprawny little brute with an eye like a rat. I never could understand how dad put up with him. >> I think he found it very trying. If it hadn't been that the Stokes Trust was such a big thing, and of course, it Was tied up with the Dcots and Lord Hemstead. I think he might have refused the trusteeship rather than work with Mr. Small. >> Bad as that is he must be a duce of a trust.

What does it figure out at? >> We've sold the real property now. It's all securities. At the last account, they were worth just under half a million pounds. >> I expect you can put up with a lot for half a million. But the point is, what's Happened to the little blighter? >> He really is a hopeless person. He never answers letters and he's apt to disappear altogether and go on a walking tour of Italy. >> Italy. He's a great collector of pottery. >> I believe the two little rooms in the house in Beliz Park where

he lives are full of urns and statueets and heaven knows what. >> Well, I can see only one thing for it. You'd better slip over to Beliz Park and stir him up. >> What now, Mr. Ornament? >> Why not go after lunch? >> I've got an awful lot to do. >> Take a taxi. The firm will pay. >> Oh, remarkable man, Mr. Small Bone. The things he's got in that room of his, you'd be surprised. valuable. >> Really? But there I have to get in to dust over him. Good heavens. Well, does the man sit

down? >> I'll have his meals in his bedroom. When will he be back? >> Oh, couldn't say. But when did he go away? >> About two months ago. But didn't he doesn't he tell you when he's going away, Mrs. Tasker? What about his rent? Oh, if it's his rent you're worrying about, you needn't. 6 months in advance he pays. He has his own meters, too. I don't care where he goes or when he Goes. It's all the same to me. Well, last year he was away three months. I remember it well. What about his letters?

Here's a few for him. Mostly bills. Well, you might ask him to telephone us as soon as he turns up. It's rather important. I'll tell him. >> It really is extremely awkward. Who are the other trustees? >> As a matter of fact, there aren't any. Father was one trustee. Mr. Smallbone the other. >> Wasn't another trustee appointed when Abel died? >> Well, no, Mr. Burley. That is not yet. >> So, it amounts to this. Unless we can induce Small Bone to come back to England, we should probably have the expense of going to court. >>

I don't know that Mr. Small Bone's gone abroad. His land lady only said he'd gone away. But perhaps if we wait a few weeks, he'll >> With half a million pounds worth of Securities. This isn't a post office savings account. There must be questions of reinvestment cropping up every day. I wonder you've managed to get by for as long as you have. >> Well, perhaps it might be a good idea to go through the securities anyway. We We could get a broker's opinion. >> Where are the securities? >> They're in the Munament's room. I'll get

Sergeant Cochrell to bring them. >> You might get the trust accounts out of the box, too. >> All right. But I'm sure there's nothing wrong. >> Why should there be anything wrong >> about Mr. Smallbone? I mean, he often disappears like this. Miss Cornell was telling me about him. He's a bit of a crank. >> The fellow would never have been appointed a trustee, but Stokes was mad for years before he died. Now, about this death duty scheme of Lord Halt Whistles. >> It's very mysterious, Mr. Hornman. Your father can't have lost the key, kept

them all together on one ring. Let me have another look. Then you're quite right. There are only 17 keys here and there should be 18 Stokes is missing. >> First the trustee and the key. The next thing we shall find is that half the securities are gone. >> The securities are kept in here. They're with Sergeant Cochril in the strong room. There's nothing in this box with old files and papers and trust accounts. I know, but how am I to start checking up the securities unless I can get hold of the last set of trust

accounts? Hasn't Cochril got a key? >> I'll ask him to come in. >> Sergeant Cochril. >> Yes. Come, miss. >> Yes. Now then, >> Sergeant, have you got a key that will open this box? >> There should be a master key. We thought that >> I know nothing of master keys. I've got keys for the strong room, the lockers, doors, inside doors, and outside doors, but not boxes. The partners look after them. >> I suppose we shall have to get through to the firm that make the boxes. Oh, heavens, that'll take weeks. And Goodness knows

where Mr. Small Bone would have got to by then. >> Excuse me. Do I understand that all you're wanting is to open this box? >> That's right. Yes. >> Oh, well, if that's all, I'll I'll have it open in no time. I'll just fetch my hammers. >> You know, I might be able to get a copy of the trust accounts from the auditors. Then we could at least start to check the securities. After all, what's all The fuss about? We don't know there's anything wrong with this trust. Now then, I'll just um Excuse me. I'll

just put it up on the window seat where I can get it. >> Let me give you a hand. It's heavy. >> Mr. Horn. >> Yes. What is it, Miss Velvet? >> Oh, could you sign this receipt, please, sir? >> Help me in a minute. >> Would you hold us steady? >> Yes. >> Good. Now, we'll have her open in a jiffy. [clears throat] Oh my god. What's happened? >> He's in that box. We We've JUST FOUND HIM. OH, GOD'S SAKE. SOMEONE'S got that girl screaming. [screaming] >> It's a damn inconvenient thing. I particularly don't

want to take you off your regular work, Inspector, but I I Don't see what else I can do with Aspenol and Harvey in Lancaster looking for that blasted maniac and Cass in Paris. >> I expect I can manage it, sir. >> Look here, I better give you a quick outline. At 11:00 this morning, a partner in this firm of sinisters, what's their name? Uh, Hornimman Burley and Crane opened one of their deed boxes. The box was supposed to contain papers relating to a trust. What they Founded it was one of the trustees named Smallburn, Marcus

Smallburn dead. The late senior partner in that firm was an Abel Hornimman. >> Wasn't he the chairman of that committee on criminal law revision? >> That's the man. He was a big name in legal circles and he was pretty widely tipped for the next honors list. >> But if he's dead, sir, I don't quite see how he >> ah but he died about four weeks ago. He'd been ill for some time, Andrina. And I think it would be fair to say that he knew he was booked. >> I see. >> And our pathologist's first opinion

is that Smallburn had been dead for at least 6 weeks, possibly eight, maybe even 10. >> Yes. Yes, I understand. >> Abel Hornman and Marcus Smallburn were fellow trustees, the only trustees of a very big affair, the Kabad Stokes Trust. That's an obvious line on the thing, of course. It's almost the only direct connection between the two men. >> And is this trust, is it in order? Well, that's one of the things you'll have to find out, Hazer. Apparently, it isn't as easy as all that. One of the difficulties is that all the papers which

might have helped should have been in that deed box. >> And they were gone. >> Every one of them. As it was, there was Hardly an inch of room to spare. If Morbin hadn't been quite unusually small and slight, his body would never have gone in at all. >> 10 weeks. I should have thought they'd begun to notice him by that time. >> In the ordinary way, they would, but these were special boxes, as you'll see. A rubber ceiling band around the edge and a compressor lid. >> Rather unusual, sir. >> Whose idea were they?

>> Able Hornimmans. Here are the photograph. >> Incidentally, I can say to your mind at rest on one point. There's no doubt it was smallburn. We got some very good prints which match up with a dozen test samples from his lodgings. >> By the way, I saw a name I recognized >> here in the list of recent arrivals at the office. Boon. >> Henry Wine Garden. Boon. Never heard of him. Who is he? >> Presumably a solicitor. He used to be a statistician and before that an actury >> versile chap. >> Yes. I'll tell you

how I know about him. Sergeant Pollock. You may remember him. >> Oh, the man the Garrett crowd killed. He worked with you, didn't he? >> Yes. Well, he was a friend of Boon. Now, if this is the same chap, and Evan knows it's not a common name, then he might be useful, particularly if we can be certain he wasn't involved. >> Friend in the enemy's camp. Good idea. And he's out of it, of course, as he said he just joined the firm. At least that's what he says here. >> Well, Mr. Moon, and how are

you finding your new work? >> I'm liking it very much. Thank you, Mrs. Magal. >> Try to expect. >> I don't know. We found a trustee in one of the deed boxes today. >> Lord, what will you lawyers get up to Next? Before you go up, there's a gentleman waiting to see you. I let him into your room. I hope that's all right. >> Good evening. >> Oh, good evening, sir. My name's Hazel Rigg. I'm from Scotland Yard. I believe you knew Bobby Pollock. >> Lord, yes, I knew him well. >> I uh I heard,

wasn't he killed? >> Yes. I had the pleasure of sending down both responsible parties. >> I'm glad. Bobby was a good man. He said Some nice things about you. >> Uh, a drink. >> Whiskey. >> Oh, thank you. I've got a proposal to put to you, Mr. Boon. It's in connection with a murder at your office. >> Oh, yes. >> Now, almost the only person who could and would have killed Small Bone is your late senior partner, Abel Hornman. How could anyone else have got the box into The room unobserved and then opened the box,

of which only Abel had the key? >> Well, yes. When you put it like that, it seems obvious enough. >> Oh, thank you. >> But why? That's where you come in. Abel Hornimman and Marcus Smallbone were fellow trustees. I don't understand all the ins and outs, but I realize this much. They had joint control of a very large sum of money. It might be more accurate to say Hornman had control of It. He was the professional. One would suspect Small Bone to do what he was told, sign on the dotted line, and so on. >>

I don't think that Small Bone was that sort of man. Oh, I don't expect he was. That's why he's dead. Now, some swindle was going on. It wasn't an obvious swindle, nothing that an outsider could spot, but Small Bone wasn't an outsider, and he just happened to spot the rabbit In the conjurer's hat. So, the conjurer popped him into his disappearing cabinet. Yes. Think of Hornman's position. Think of the temptation. On the one hand, disgrace, probably jail. On the other, he could die, respect it. As the Scots say. It was so easy. Into the box

with a body, lose the key, sit tight. Even if it went wrong, what did it matter? The courts would have had to get the juice of a move on if they wanted to beat the Anggina that killed him. >> How are you going to prove all this? That's it. We'll have to find out what's wrong with the trust. >> Well, I expect I could help you if you're keen on the idea, but surely an accountant or an auditor could do better. I wonder. Anyway, I'd like your help if I may have it. >> Of course.

>> And then again, we've always got to face the possibility that it may not have Been Abel Hornimman. Now, that's going to open up quite a wide field of speculation. >> Ah, list two, in fact. >> Yes. All those now on the staff and just possibly someone who was with the firm but has recently left. >> I suppose that's possible. Uh, I had no predecessor. My type, Mrs. Porter, came when I did. The common law cler, Mr. Prince took the place of another old boy who'd been teen years with the firm, but He left months

ago. It was just after Christmas. >> There's Eric Duxford. >> Ah, yes, of course. Quite notorious. Was running another job at the same time as working for the firm and stealing their clients. >> I gather he resigned last month just before he was due to be sacked. So, he's in the running. Then there's the cashier, Mr. Clark. He only left about 3 weeks ago. >> No, he's out. He couldn't have done it. He only had one hand. Why does that mean he couldn't have killed Smallbone? >> Of course, you don't know how he was killed.

>> No, I don't. And I suggest that if you're going to trust me, you don't set traps for me. >> Sorry. Just second nature. No, it would have been quite impossible. Small Bone was strangled with picture Wire. Definitely a two-handed job. I've done jobs in junk shops, in lost property offices, in warehouses. Even the mistress's common room at a girl's public school. But never before in my life have I seen one room with quite so much stuff in it. >> Then thank you lucky stars. You're in a hornman office. This is child's play to what

you'd find in the office of an ordinary uninhibited solicitor. >> It's all these books in open shelves, Too. Anybody could have handled them. Look at the dust on this one. Queen's bench 1860. Who in hell could be interested where the queen put her bottom in 1860? It looks as if we may take a bit of time before we're finished in here. And we shan be able to let young hornman back until we are. So I may as well use it myself. Oh, you've done the desk, I take it. >> Oh, yes, I've done that. >>

Well, I'll see Mr. Burley first then. It's someone to ask him to come in, will you? Kabod Stokes was a Presbyterian fishmonger. He was one of Mr. Horman's oldest clients. He was a successful man. When he died, he owned almost a quarter of the East Coast Fishing Fleet. >> Where did the money go? >> He left a will appointing Abel Hornimman and Marcus Smallbone executives and trustees. >> Do you know why he chose Small Bone? >> They shared a common interest in collecting pottery. My impression was that neither was really very knowledgeable on the subject.

However, they used to correspond at some length, I believe. >> Was the will all right? >> Entirely, sir. There were no close relations, and the money was left to perfectly reputable charities. mostly to do with fish. >> So now all you have to do is to divide The income among these charities. >> In theory that is so in fact it is not so simple. When Iod Stokes died his estate consisted of a certain amount of real property. He bought a number of farms cheaply at the time of the 1931 slump and there were the assets

and goodwill of his various businesses which had to be valued and paid out. However, you can take it that by now everything has been realized and invested in securities. Can You give me some idea of the value of the trust? >> After the payment of death's duties, it amounted to about half a million pounds. >> Half a million and all invested. So it'll be just a matter of checking the stocks and shares. I take >> in theory. Yes. In fact, no. We are allowed some discretion in investment of the trust. The fund was to be

kept in the best possible state of investment compatible with SEC security. This means that shares were bought and sold to meet the demands of the day. It is not therefore possible without looking through all the recent files and folders to say exactly what the trust fund ought to consist of. >> Where are all these files and folders? >> They were in the box. >> I see. Does that mean you'll never know what? >> Certainly not. But a little time will be required before we are in a position to Be precise. >> I see. Well, I

should like to have the information as soon as you can get it, Mr. Burley. >> Of course. Now, if Abel Hornimman had been embezzling funds, do you think he would have taken them from this trust or from some other one? >> It's a question which scarcely merits consideration. >> But I'm asking you to consider it. The question is purely hypothetical, and I Should like to have your answer. >> Very well. I'll give you my answer as a hypothesis only. The text trust would have been a suitable vehicle for fraud for several reasons. First because the

only other trustee was a layman. Secondly, because the funds were all here and under our effective control, they had to be as Abel was constantly buying and selling. So no questions would be asked. Thirdly, the beneficiaries were all charities. Secretary of a charity is, as a rule, very pleased to receive his annual check and is unlikely to question its amount too closely. >> I see. Well, thank you, Mr. Burley. Now, perhaps you would ask Mr. Boon to step along. My secretary will find him for you. >> Young man, pour yourself out a second cup of

tea. Do >> Oh, thank you. >> And be guided by me. Never taking lodges. Go to the poor house, go to prison, commit arson, len what you like, but never taking lodges. >> You found Mr. Small Bone. >> Take Mr. Small Bone a quiet man, an inoffensive man, a good player. Never should I have thought that by his deeds he would have brought anxiety to my bosom and police to my house. The sugar's behind a clock. >> No, I don't. >> 5 years ago came here to lodge, put down 6 months rent on the table,

the one we're sitting at this moment, and said to me, Mrs. Tesa, I'm a rolling stone. I gather no moss, but somewhere I must have to lay my head. The first floor front pair is vacant, I said, and use of the ring at the back for cooking. And that's all that passed between us if I go to my maker tonight. I'll come and go as I like, he said. And so he did. Last year he was in Italy at his house in Florence. The address is on his card on the door. In his February goes

away again. I'm going down to Kent, he said. I didn't catch the name. Stanton, I thought he said, but it may have been Stan. And if I find what I'm looking for, that'll be the beginning of great things, Mrs. Ask her great things. I'll be back tonight, he said. >> But he never came back. >> Certainly he did that night as he said. Then the next day he went out again. No luggage, nothing. Ah, I thought he's found what he's looking for. And when one week went by and then another, I knew I was right.

>> You knew? >> I knew he was in Italy where he is now enjoying the hot weather. Um, >> it's the question of access which has been worrying me. Now, from what you tell me, Mr. Boon, anyone who looked as If they had business to transact could walk into the office during business hours without anyone stopping them. What about after business hours? >> They certainly couldn't get into the offices then. Sergeant Cochril locks the two doors at night. He leaves about 7:00 and he's the last to go. >> Who has the keys? >> No one

has keys except him, I understand. >> Supposing one of the partners wanted to Get in. I'm not sure. I asked John Cove and he said that no partner in a fashionable firm of solicitors ever did work after hours. That sort of thing being left one gathers to the shirts brigade in the city. Even Abel Hornimman didn't have Keats. Not of the outer doors. >> I see. What about Hornman's room? In office hours, there's one very serious obstacle. You have to go through the secretary's room to get into any of the Partners' rooms. And at least

one of the secretaries always has to be in it. So they'd have noticed if Mr. small bone had gone into Mr. Hornman's office. Not only would they have noticed it, they'd have made a note of it in the journal and another note when he left with a view to typing out an attendance on the subject later. How do you think we poor solicitors live? >> In this case, the secretary would be Miss Cornell. She's been here a long Time. >> Countless years. >> Efficient. >> Well, she'd have to be. >> Doesn't have other things on

her mind. >> Miss Cornell? You surprised me. >> Uh, there are other things than sex, you know. No, actually I meant golf. >> Golf? >> Yes, she's very good. I gather. Reached the last four in the woman's open at one time. She might have been brooding about An incipient slice or something of the kind. [snorts] What thorough research you do, Inspector. All our past lives an open book to you. Just routine. >> I gather Mr. Hornman had been an individ for some time. Mom, if you could help me by giving me some idea of how

he spent his day. >> He was very regular in his habits. Sergeant, of course, he had a nurse here all the time to look after him. >> What time did he leave in the mornings? >> The car came to fetch him at 5 10 and he was home at 5:00 for tea. >> It would vary perhaps. >> No, no, he was always home by 5. >> Did he go out in the evenings at all? Certainly not. >> Never. I'm sorry, but we must be certain. >> Mr. Hornman was a dying man. He never went out

in the evenings. He retired to bed at 10:00, and the nurse had the Bedroom across the passage so that she could be certain to hear if he cried out. His attacks, you know, they were very silent. >> Thank you, Mom. Here you are, Inspector. Effect of picture wire on the human neck. 200 magnifications. >> Extraordinary. >> Looks like an aerial view of the Grand Canyon. >> What does it all prove, Dr. Bland? >> Quite a lot. Would you like a picture of the weapon? Subject to very slight possible errors. Here it is. Take a short

piece of ordinary seven strand brass picture wire. Drive a small hole between the strands about 2/3 of the way along. Then thread one end of your wire through the hole. Now that gives you a nice smoothly running noose or slip knot. I suggest that you then fasten toggles of wood or anything to afford you a good grip. One At either end of the wire. There is an inexpensive, neat household model of the Gro's loop. >> Inexpensive, neat, and untraceable. >> Oh, quite. It's a household weapon. Anyone could make one. >> Thank you. >> No, I

haven't done yet. >> Would you like a picture of your murderer? >> Oh, it's not asking too much of you, Dr. Bland. Well, to a certain extent, the Weapon implies the user. Now, he must be methodical, neat with his hands, with enough imagination to devise such a weapon, and enough ruthlessness to use it. >> You surprise me. >> He is also most probably left-handed. >> What? >> Ah, yes. I thought that might stir you out of your dismal professional indifference. That's a clue, isn't it? That's something to go on. I repeat, he Was left-handed. Not

in the sense that he only used his left hand, but he was a man whose left wrist was better developed and stronger than his right. >> Where did he get all this from? >> From the wire. Look at the photograph again. Observe how all the creases on the right are drawn backwards. That is towards the spine. Now that means that when the murderer started to pull, he exerted the actual pressure with his left hand. >> Yes, I think I see what you mean. One other thing, doctor. You say he and him. Is that certain? Could

it have been a woman? >> Oh, certainly. A man or a woman. Using this little weapon, all you need is the initial surprise. Consider now. I'm going to strangle you. Now, you've no cause to suspect me, and I'm standing quietly behind you. I put my hands around your throat. Ah, as I thought. You try and tear away My fingers. Now, strong as you are, you find it difficult because you're sitting down. Your knees are under the desk, but not impossibly difficult. You catch one of my fingers and bend. All right. All right. It'd be too

realistic. But consider the murderer who is using a wire loop. Now, it's strong. It's as sharp as a cheese cutter, and it's an inch into your neck before you know what's happening. You can't shout and There's nothing to catch hold of. You can't get as much as a tip of a finger between the wire and your neck. Yes. Yes. I think a woman could kill a man with a weapon like that. >> I gather you want me to go through all the accounts and papers of the firm. Inspector. >> Yes, Mr. Arman. I want to

find out if they're solvent. If they are, I want to know how their profits today compare with their profits, say, 10 years ago. And I want to know about anything which doesn't quite fit in. >> Very well. >> I've given instructions that any books or papers you want are to be shown to you. If you find anything's being kept from you, that'll be helpful, too. >> Yes. I gather the late senior partner's chief suspect. >> Not anymore. He was the man who ought to have committed the murder. He was the man who had every reason

for removing Small Bone, but he's out. It's virtually impossible that he could have done it. >> You off now, Boon? >> I think so. It's been quite a week, hasn't it? >> Never a dull moment. >> What about a drink? >> Never known to refuse one. I'd better warn Mrs. Porter. She's on with me tomorrow. >> What do you mean on? Tomorrow is Saturday. >> Oh, yes, of course. You only arrived on Monday, so you wouldn't know. We always keep a skeleton staff here on Saturday mornings, you know, to tend to telephone calls, deal with

any important letters. >> Do you? Who has to do it? >> We do it in pairs in turn. You mean that on Saturday mornings there are just two of you in the office? One qualified man and one secretary. >> Yeah, that's the style. >> What's so madly exciting about it? >> Tell me, who opens up the office on these occasions? >> Sergeant Cockaroo. Then he comes back after everyone's gone and locks up again. That's usually about 12:30. >> Is there a list of who was on duty and when over the last few months? >> Yeah,

it's all on the notice board. Why do you think your copper friend will suspect we murdered the old boy on a Saturday morning? [laughter] It's not a bad idea at that. Any client Who comes to see you on a Saturday morning's asking for trouble. >> Does it actually happen as per the list or is it fiddled about? >> The hornman system is not susceptible to fiddling. I don't know about the girls. They may fix things among themselves. You'd have to ask them. >> I expect Hazel will. Excuse me, inspector. >> Of course. Come in, Hoffman.

>> What do the firm's accounts look like? >> The monetary position would seem at first sight to be fairly straightforward. What did the total profits amount to last year? >> After everything had been paid, a little short of £40,000, of which the late Mr. Hornman share would have been£16,000. >> That's not an awful lot, is it? He had that big house in Kensington to keep up. And I understand a country house as well. a large farmhouse with about 200 acres of land in Kent. >> And how do the figures compare with 10 years ago? >>

A gradual but marked decline, but he was solvent, I should say. All his accounts are very methodical. >> Oh. Uh, am I interrupting? >> No. No. What is it? >> Just something I thought you might find interesting. Did you realize there are a couple of people always here on Saturday mornings? >> Really? I've got the list for you. >> Thank you. Yes. Interesting. I'm afraid we've been wasting our time a bit. We needn't go back any further than March the 6th. Bland said small bone had been dead at least 6 weeks and probably not more

than 10. Four weeks. That means four men and four secretaries. >> It lets out John Cove. >> It would seem to do. Sir, >> is he there now? >> Yes. Shall I call him in, >> please? I'd like to ask him some questions. >> John, come. I'll get back to my books then. >> Yes. Thank you, Hoffman. >> Mr. Co. Hello, Hoffman. >> Ah, Mr. Co, come in. I'd like to hear how these Saturday mornings are worked. >> Well, I'm not sure how other people manage it. When I'm on duty, I turn up half 10.

Sergeant Cochril opens up when I arrive or the girl, whoever turns up First. Then he pushes off. I don't know what time he gets back to locker. about half past 12, I think, or later. But I'm always gone by then. >> And does the secretary get away at the same time? >> Earlier, if anything, there's not much for her to do really. >> And is this list correct for these four particular Saturdays? >> Burley, Duxford, Bob Hornman, Crane. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's right for The men, but you'd have to check with the girls. >>

Miss Chittering, Miss Cornell, Miss Mild, and Miss Belle. Yes, I'll do that. >> Well, thank you very much, Mr. Cole. >> Okay. Well, it looks as if the scheme would work out quite well for a man, doesn't it? But very risky for a woman. I mean, Mr. Burley, for instance, could fix an appointment with Small Bone for midday And tell the secretary she could go at say quart to 12. That would give him 45 minutes or more before Sergeant Cochril came back. >> Yes. And there's another thing. This weekend business explains the choice of the

hiding place. The body was bound to be found sooner or later. All the murderer was hoping was that it would be hidden long enough to make it uncertain which was the fatal weekend. And it was a fair chance that it might Be several weeks before anyone opened that deed box. >> I'm sure I came in on February the 27th because that was the day after my admiral took me out to the criterion and tried to get me tight on June. >> [laughter] >> It was me the Saturday before. That's right. It shouldn't have been my

turn at all, you remember. But Chittering asked me to take it for her. I can't think why. >> A boyfriend perhaps. >> Nonsense. She doesn't know one end of a man from the other. >> Well, then why does she come up to town on a Saturday morning? She's right out done it. >> Shopping. >> Don't be so Victorian. Girls do their shopping during their lunch break. Well, I've seen her in the Strand on a Saturday. I believe he works in a shop opposite Charing Cross and she comes up To meet him at midday on Saturdays.

>> Can anyone tell me about the other Saturdays? >> What do you want to know all this for? >> Don't be silly. It's Hawkeye the inspector. He thinks we murdered the little man on a Saturday morning. >> I didn't murder him. >> Of course you didn't, Flory. If you had, you'd have told us all about it immediately afterwards. Now, these other weekends, Saturday, February the 13th, that was chittering. Of course, she did mine in return for me doing hers. March the 6th. That would have been you, Flurry. >> Oh, dear. Well, if the list says

so, that's right. All I know is I did my own turn. >> On Saturday, February the 13th, Mr. Burley and Miss Chittering were at the office. Mr. Burley says Miss Chittering left at about 12:00 and that he left a Few minutes afterwards. Miss Chittering, interrogated separately, says that she left about 10 minutes to 12. She doesn't know when Mr. Burley left on Saturday, February the 20th. Mr. Duxford was on duty with Miss Cornell. He thinks he left at about 11:30. In fact, we now know he had an appointment at his other office at 11:45. Miss

Cornell says she doesn't know what time she left, but she caught the 11:50 for 7 Oaks. On Saturday, February the 27th, Mr. Hornman Jr. and Miss Mild were on duty. They state they left at the same time about 10 12 and walked together as far as Hullben Circus where they went their respective ways. Finally, we have Saturday, March the 6th, when Mr. Crane and Miss Belbass spent the morning together. Now, Mr. Crane says he's of the opinion that Miss Bbass left before he did. Miss Bbass says yes, she thinks so, too. Mr. Crane says on

thinking it over again, he Recollects that Miss Bbass was still in the office when he went and must therefore have left after him. Miss Bellebass requested says yes. She thinks that's right. >> I think they're all lying. >> This really is a ridiculous place to have put a mirror. No light on it at all. >> I suppose it is. It's always been there, though. >> Why not put it upside the window? >> Good idea, Flory. Only someone will have to unscrew it first. We better get hold of Sergeant Cochran. >> Oh, why bother the sergeant?

It's only two tiny little screws. Look, I got a pair of nail scissors. >> Oh, there goes one pair of nail scissors. >> Is there anything I can do, Miss Cornell? >> The general idea is to move the looking glass from behind the door to over there Beside the window. >> Oh, well, the task should not be beyond our combined resources. Uh, has anyone got a large nail file? >> So long as you don't break it. >> Thanks. I promise to temper bigger with discretion. there. Now, if I may use your scissors for a moment,

Miss Chittering. >> Well, you can't make them much worse. >> Thank you. Now, is this where you want it? >> Yes. Yes. That's very good. >> Right then. Two little holes first. >> Moon, Mr. Crane's ringing on the office phone for you. >> Ah. Uh, well, sorry. I'll um I'll have to leave it then. Oh, >> just like men. Begin the job and leave it in the middle. I suppose I shall have to do it myself. Hand one of the screws, >> Damn. >> Heavens, that's for me. >> Oh, thank goodness the glass hasn't broken.

>> What are you up to now? >> These wretched screws. I've got one of them. The other seems to have ruled. Yes, there it is. It's got under my desk. I can't quite get at it. It's lucky you're back, Mr. Boon. Could you just lift the corner of his desk? >> All right. I suppose sometime I shall be allowed to Do some of my own. If I lift the desk a little higher, can one of you pull it out carefully? Don't tear it. >> Yes. Here he comes. >> Marcus Smallbone. Is that his writing? >>

The dead have spoken nonsense, Flor. It may have been written months ago, years even. Yes, it's his writing. All right. >> It doesn't look very old. >> Well, there's one thing about it. It Never came to this office. Not in the ordinary way. Look, it hasn't been numbered or stabbed. It hasn't even been punched for filing. >> What does it say? >> Dear Mr. Hornman, I'd write to confirm our arrangement. I will be at the office at 12:15 on Saturday. I hope what you will have to tell me will be satisfactory. Marcus Smallburn. >> I

think this ought to go straight to the Inspector. Did you notice anything odd about the letter? >> No. Oh, well, except as Miss Cornell pointed out, it hadn't been filed or marked. >> Didn't you think that the signature was a bit high on the paper? It had the effect of cramping the rest of the letter. >> Well, the spacing did look a bit amateur, but then I don't suppose Small Bone was much of a typist. >> No, I don't suppose he was. There is another thing, though. Did you look at the top left hand corner

of the paper? >> No, not particularly. What should I have seen? >> Two pinholes. A very important clue. I'm surprised you overlooked it. I ought to have told Mr. Burley I couldn't possibly finish typing this engrossment tonight. I should have said 11:00 tomorrow was the very earliest. 6. Oh dear. I wonder why the light's gone so dim. I can't see properly. Oh, I'll have to finish it, I suppose. Only a few more pages. Thank goodness for that. I ought to be finished before Sergeant Cochril comes to lock up at 7. How silent it is when

nobody's here. What was that? I thought I heard someone coming up the passage there. Locked. Probably just imagined it. These old buildings often creek at night. It's not a sound now. The handle. It's turning. [laughter] If I If I stand on a chair, I can see who it is through the fan light. Oh, good heavens. It's you. [laughter] You did give me a fright. Why didn't you call out to me? Just a moment. I'll open the door. Evening, Mr. Mason. >> Evening, Sergeant. Working for your overtime. >> Oh, I'm just going to lock up. One

of our girls is staying late. I said I'll be back at 7:00. >> I'll walk along with you, Cochril. >> How's the fuchsia? >> Oh, it's early to tell. They look healthy enough, but a late frost could take them all off. Oh, >> we sh have any more frost now. >> With a government like this one, you Could expect a frost in August. >> There's no light in your offices. No, I expect she's gone. I better make sure though. You never know with girls nowadays. Probably left the fire on. >> Mr. Mason, >> what is

it? What's up? >> Have you got a telephone in your lodge? >> Yes. >> Come on. Come on. There's no time to lose. I've got to get the police. >> The same method as Smallburn. >> With a little luck, we should be able to aliy half of them clean out of it this time. It looks as if 6:30 to 7 is the important time. All virtuous office workers are home by 7. >> They should have been home, but things don't always work out the way they should do. >> We'll get on to it straight away,

Plum Tree. We'll need cooperation from the county police force for the people Living out of London. The thing is to catch them all as soon as possible, and I want to have the reports in front of me by tonight. At approximately 7:20, I arrived at the address which had been indicated to me in St. George's Square, Pimlo. I was informed by a lady whose name I afterwards understood to be Miss Burley, that her brother, Mr. Burley, had not yet returned home. As I was interrogating Miss Burley, Mr. Burley Arrived. He seemed surprised to see me

and appeared to be considerably upset. He stated that owing to an alleged electricity cut, he had been forced to wait for 52 minutes on the platform of Charing Cross underground station. Such a thing had never happened to him before. He stated that in his opinion the government was totally >> Miss Spelbas when interrogated stated that she had entered a northern line train on the Edgeway branch at Tottenham Court Road Station. The train came to a halt somewhere between Morningington Cresant and Camden Town. When the train had been stationary for some considerable period, the lady next

to her asked her what she thought would happen if there was a fire. Miss Balbus had replied that they would all be burnt to death. The lady had thereupon uttered a number of hysterical screams. Miss Spelbas was of the opinion that people who were unable to control themselves Should not travel in underground trains. It >> It's all too incredible to be true. Out of the members of list two, the possible suspects five seem to have got stuck at unidentifiable spots around the London transport system and John Cove and Eric Ducksford. >> Quite. They aliy and

there are independent witnesses so they're out of it. But Bob Hornman didn't go home at all. Seems he never does go home on Tuesdays. It's his landlady's night off, so on that night he eats out. Well, that should be easy to confirm. >> I'll believe it when it happens. Miss Cornell had to walk to Charing Cross owing to crowds trying to go by bus. Missed the 610 for 7 Oaks. Caught the 640. Train didn't start till 7:20. Reached 7 Oaks at a quarter 8. Saw no one she knew. Miss Mild May left the office at

about 6:20. Waited for 20 minutes in Hoben for a bus. then gave it Up and walked home to Kensington. Arrived at 8:00. That's about the strength of it. And I'll tell you what it all adds up to. It adds up to a hell of a lot more work. I suppose you've not you haven't overlooked Sergeant Cockaril. >> No. Now, Sergeant Cochril saw Miss Chittering at about 25 6 and she told him she had an important engrossment to type for Mr. Burley. He said he would come back and lock the outer door at 7:00, by which

time Miss Chittering hoped she would have finished. Sergeant Cockro walked round to the fall of Troy, a small public house on this side of Feta Lane, where he spent 30 minutes drinking gin and warm water and talking to the landlord. At 7:00 he returned and happening to meet one of the importers, walked with him to the office. And is all that? Oh yes, fully corroborated. the landlord and three of his saloon bar cronies Completely corroborated. I see. You know, I'm sorry for the girl. I mean, that goes without saying. I don't suppose she even knew

why she was killed. Nevertheless, there's one thing to the good. It means that now we should be pretty certain to catch the murderer. >> How do you work that out? >> I look at it like this. The first murderer was prepared. The murderer was able to choose both opportunity and place carefully, and he had plenty of Time to work out the angles. There are people with minds like that, the sort of mind that can cope with a double dummy bridge problem and work out all the variations. But you face the same man with a snap

decision in the actual play of the hand. That's when expensive mistakes get made. I hope you're right. Oh well, routine. Sergeant Plum Tree is checking on Young Hornman's alibi. Now, >> perhaps if you could tell me which table the gentleman sat at. >> I'm afraid that's exactly what I can't do. >> Well, since neither of the waitresses recognize the photograph, I >> Thank you very much then, madam. >> I tell you one thing. You say he was at his table for an hour now. I'm sure the girls would have remembered that 6:30 to 7:30 is

a very good time for tips. And well, if anyone sits on for Too long after their meal, they'll get up to almost any dodge to get rid of them. I've even known them spill a whole pot of hot coffee. I should say he might have been in and out for a quick snack without the remembering him, but not for an hour. No, I'm sure of that. >> Well, let's have a deco. Oh, yeah. Yeah. She's one of our regulars. Been coming up and down on this line for 15 years. She's a cold, Isn't she? >>

That's the one. Now, can you tell me about what time she got here last night? >> Last night? You know what happened here last night, don't you? >> Yes. >> Yeah. Well, well, with one thing or another, what with the people who was on the trains trying to get off and the people who was off trying to get on. If my own mother had come up and spoke to me, I shouldn't have remembered it. And She's been in her grave for these 10 years. >> So, Miss Cornell may have been on that train or she

may not. That's cheering. Never mind. We've been able to check Miss Belbass's alibi. >> The woman who screamed? >> Yes. She came forward. Come in. >> There's Mr. Haymon to see, sir. He brought this note. >> Yes. Yes. Show him in. >> Yes, sir. >> Thank you, Plum Tree. That's all. >> Very good, sir. >> Uh, good morning. Uh, inspector, isn't it? >> Good morning. Sit down, won't you? Now, how can I help you? Uh, >> I work for Merryweather and Matlock. You may have seen our shop. It's about halfway down the Strand. We specialize

in hikers and campus stuff. >> Yes, I've seen it. >> I read in the newspapers about Miss Chittering being murdered in that lawyer's office. We were going to be married. She was a wonderful girl. She used to surprise me back at the things she told me about the law. >> Yes. Well, now perhaps you can tell me one or two things. When did you see Miss Chittering last? >> Last Saturday. She used to come up from Dalish every Saturday. We shut up at 12 And then we'd have lunch and go somewhere in the afternoon. We

were both very fond of pictures. >> You went to the cinema? >> No, no, no. Real pictures, the National Gallery or the Tate. On Sundays, I'd usually go over and see a dull and we'd go for a hike. Did you know any other members of the firm? >> Well, not to say no. Miss Cornell bought a rucks sack from me once I knew her from seeing her with Miss Chittering, But I didn't let on, of course. >> Well, Mr. Haymon, it was very good of you to come forward. If there is any way in which

you can help us, I'll be certain to let you know. >> I am now in a position to give you an interim report on the financial position of the firm. >> Oh, thank you, Mr. Hoffman. I'll study it in detail later, but before I do, can you tell me roughly what it adds up to? >> Well, in a nutshell, it uh was a very Good business once, but it's not so good now. I'll give you an example. This building is leaseold. Now, every well-run business which operates on leasehold premises puts aside a fund against the

day when the lease expires. So did Hornman, Burley, and Crane for many years. Then in 1979, they stopped adding to it. And in 1980 and 81 they drew it out and spent it. >> Didn't they? >> Then later in 1981, Abel Hornimman got His hands somehow on quite a large capital sum. It isn't obvious, but when you look for it, you can see it. The leaseold depreciation account was built up again, and the very heavy mortgages on both of Abel's properties were reduced. Somehow, and I may say I hadn't the least idea how, Abel Hornman

got hold of this money. I can only tell you one thing about it. It came from outside. Maybe someone died and left it to him. Possibly he robbed a bank. >> This sum of money. Can you estimate how much it was? >> Oh, quite a lot. £30,000 at least. >> After all, murder's a serious thing. It might be one of us next. Even so, it seems to me rather like sneaking. >> Don't be your age, Anne. This isn't the sixth form of SEO Freeders. Well, you can tell him if you like. >> I'm going to

>> Yes. >> Oh, Miss Cornell, come in. You wanted to see me? >> I won't keep you long, Inspector. It's about that letter, the one that we found under my desk. >> Yes. >> It was something we all noticed at the time. This may mean much to you, but if you remember, it started, "Dear Mr. Hornman." Well, that wasn't the way Mr. The small bone ever wrote to able Hornman, it was always, "Dear Hornman, Despite an etiquette about these things, when you get friendly, you drop the mister, it's not a thing you'd be likely to

get wrong." No, I appreciate that. Well, thank you very much for telling me, Miss Cornell. >> You're asking me to be scientific about something that has no real scientific basis, Inspector. >> In other words, we're asking you to Perform the impossible. And as usual, Dr. Bland, you're going to oblige. >> Soft soap. All right. So long as you don't expect me to get up in court and explain it all to a jury. >> No. All I want you to do is to narrow the field. If you can indicate that certain Saturdays are more likely than

other Saturdays, then we can concentrate first on the people who were in the office on those days. >> Well, uh, different parts of the body Deteriorate after death at different speeds. Now the speed of deterioration depends on a number of constant factors and equally on a number of accidental circumstances. For instance, if the stomach happens to be >> All right, you can skip that one. >> Well, generally speaking, I have been helped a great deal in this case by the fact that the body remained or so I have assumed in the same very confined space

and at a fairly constant temperature. >> And your decision? From the moment of discovery, death had occurred not less than 6 weeks before, not more than eight. >> Does that help you? >> Well, it reduces the field by one. Mr. Burley is out of it. And poor Miss Chittering, of course. Yes. I believe it's beginning to work out. Inspector Hazelig told me that when you were examining Abel Hornman's private Bank account, you could only find one item which you couldn't explain. As I remember, Mr. Mr. Hoffman, that was a quarterly payment of £825. >> That

is quite correct. >> Well, it just occurred to me to wonder. It seems such an obvious suggestion, but have you tried grossing it up at 11%. >> Good lord. >> I thought it was rather a coincidence. >> Oh, yes indeed. How very surprising to think that I never noticed it. >> Yes. What is it, Boon? >> I wonder if I might have a word with you, Mr. Burley. All right, >> I'll come straight to the point. You know that Abel Hornman borrowed £30,000 from the Kabot Stokes Trust and used it to bolster up the finances

of the firm. That's right, isn't it? >> Well, he put it all back, if he ever took it. It's never been proved. >> No, it's never been proved. And if Mr. Hoffman can't spot the join. I don't Suppose anyone will ever do any better, particularly as the money was paid back to the trust almost at once and all the interim trust accounts seem to have disappeared. >> But I scarcely see why. >> But the fact that no one seems to know where Mr. Hornman got the money from to pay back the trust doesn't alter the

fact that at some time or other this money will have to be paid back to whoever lent it to him. >> How do you know it was a loan? Because Abel Hornman was paying interest on the money down to the day of his death. £825, £11 perom on £30,000. >> Who was this money paid to? >> The money was drawn by Abel Hornman in cash. I presume he paid that money for security reasons into a private account at another bank. Then he paid it to whoever it was he got the £30,000 from. So far, there

is no Indication who that is. It seems highly probable, however, that Small Bone knew, and the truth, if it had been exposed, would have resulted in ruin for Abel Hornman and disaster for his firm. That, it seems plain, is why he was killed. >> You always seem to be pouring over lists and figures nowadays. It >> was just something I was trying to work out. Do you remember the sale of Long Half Farm? >> Oh, it is inscribed on the tablets of my heart. It was the very first piece of conveyance thing that I did

in this office. >> Can you tell me about it? >> Well, if you're passionately interested, I'll get out the file. >> Yeah. Yeah. Here you are. It was quite a straightforward title. It started with Yeah. three straight conveyances. First in 1910, another in 1938 And the Yeah. the third to Ezekiel Jed in 1960. Now, he died in 1966. And there's a vesting deed vesting it in his son Amos as life tenant. Amos died in 1975. Yes, there's another vesting deed in Daniel Jed, who without further ado, barred his entail and sold as absolute owner in

1978. Bob's your uncle. >> And it was the same property all the way through uh all the way from 1910 onwards. I mean, >> to the last blade of grass. >> Then why weren't the first three conveyances handed over when it was finally sold out of this office? Ah, now Abel did say something about that. I I can't remember what. The route of title we offered was the 1966 vesting deed. >> Well, you'd have thought that the earlier deeds would have been handed over, or else the usual acknowledgement given for their safe custody. >> Yeah,

now that you mention it, that does Seem a bit odd. Why do you suppose Abel wanted to keep the early deeds? He never struck me as the type to go in for homemade lampshades. >> No, I don't think he kept them for lampshades. Hello, Boon speaking. >> Hazel rig here. We've traced that bank account. The quarterly payments were made to the Husbandman's League Friendly and Lone Society. The office is in Lombard Street. >> Fine, I'll go there straight away. >> Keep me posted. >> What's it all about? >> My idea roughly is that Abel Hornman

forged a set of title deeds. >> Good lord. >> Well, not forged really. He affected a little rearrangement. I think he got hold of three solid-looking and obviously genuine conveyances just for the sake of argument. Let's say the first three Conveyances of Long Half Farm that we've just been talking about. >> Yeah. >> Now, those particular ones were very suitable because they hadn't got a plan on them, just a description. I think he took the last one, the 1960 conveyance, the one to Ezekiel Jed, removed the last page and sewed in a new one that

he'd written out himself in law script. >> Yes. Yes, that's plausible. He wrote a beautiful copper plate, the perfect Practical conveyances. >> Well, I think the page he faked had a plan on it. Furthermore, and here I'm guessing again, I think it was a plan of Abel's own farm, Crookham Court Farm. >> Good lord. >> Then all he had to do was to draw up a conveyance purporting to be by Ezekiel Jed to himself. Take it down to the stamp office, have it stamped, and there you are. Look, I may be stupid, but why did

he Want a second set of title deeds to Cook and Court Farm? He must have acquired a perfectly good set when he bought the place in 1976. Well, he had to hand over the real deeds to the National Westminster Bank when he mortgaged his farm to them in 1977. Don't you think a spare set must have been quite useful when he wanted to raise the wind again in 1981? >> Yes. Viewed in that light, a chap could hardly have too many sets of title Deeds. Where you going? >> Down to the husbandman's league to make

sure. It's known as the cufflink trick. You porn one cufflink twice over. >> I do hope that there's nothing wrong. We heard, of course, of Mr. Hornman's death. Very sad. >> Yes, indeed. But about your loan, Mr. Manifold, I don't doubt that the interest payments will be kept up for the time being anyway. But I am afraid I Must break it to you that the security for the loan is illusurary. >> Illusury? Perhaps you'd be kind enough to explain how the security of 200 acres of freehold farming land can be illusurary. >> Have you got

the deeds here? >> Yes. I asked for the papers to be brought to me before you came. >> Well, can I see? Uh, thank you. >> Ah, yes. You can see the join quite easily. The last page inside the back Sheet. Look. >> Gracious goodness. Yes, I can see it. What is your idea? That the last page is an insertion, a substitution. >> That's it. And look at this. Formerly known as Long Half Farm, but now and for some years past known as Stan Farm in the county of Kent. He changed the ordinance survey numbers

to correspond with his own farm. Of course. >> But what about our valuer is his report of forgery, too. >> When your valuer went down to Kent to inspect the farm, he would naturally get in touch with the owner to arrange an appointment. >> Of course. Well, I have no doubt Abel met him with a car, took charge of him, and showed him around his own farm, pretending it was Stankham Farm, which we now know to be a figment of his imagination. That's why it was a plan of his own farm that he put on

the forged set of title deeds. >> Then, can't we claim that our mortgage covers Mr. Hornman's farm, the farm our valuer saw, or whatever it says on the deed? >> I suppose you might, only it wouldn't do much good. It's already heavily mortgaged to the National Westminster Bank. >> One thing puzzles me, Boon. According to you, Abel Hornimman laid the foundations of this years ago. Did he know about the angginina then? Probably not. He knew he was running short of cash, though. But one of the real beauties of the method was that it was reversible.

So long as he kept up the interest payments, he was pretty safe. Then if things looked up and he could repay the money, all he had to do was discharge the mortgage. Then he could get the deeds back and he could well burn them if he liked. >> Yes, that part of the business seems reasonably clear. Now I suppose Mburn Got to hear of Stan Farm and something we shall never know what led him to suspect its non-existence on February the 17th. That was Friday. He went down to make sure. We ought to have paid

more attention to that remark he made to his landlady. If I find what I'm looking for, that'll be the beginning of great things. is he already saw himself as the center of a corair. Well, he found what he was looking for and I think he wrote at least two Letters and I think he wrote them to Bob Hornimman. He may have known by then that Abel was pretty far gone. So Bob thinks the matter over and writes back making an appointment with Small Bone for the morning of Saturday, February the 27th. Says he can explain

everything. Then I suppose he gets busy manufacturing his cheese cutter and cleans out one of the larger deed boxes. What happened next? >> Smallburn confirmed the appointment. That was the letter we found. Of course, it must have been written to Bob's private address. So, it didn't go through the office filing system. >> Written to Bob? >> Yes. It took a senior secretary, Miss Cornell, to point out to me the difference between a letter starting, "Dear Hornimman," which is what he'd have written to Abel Hornimman, and dear Mr. Hornman, which is what he'd write to Bob,

whom he barely knew. and Bob had The letter in his pocket and dropped it in the secretary's office. >> Something like that. Then on Saturday morning, Smallbone comes to Lincoln's in at 12:15 as arranged. Bob is alone by that time. He tries argument quite futile. So it has to be the other thing. Into the box with the body. Chuck away the key. Sit tight. Have you got any direct proof? Oh, you don't often get direct proof of murder, But it's starting to add up. The time of the second murder, for instance, three or four people

haven't got a firm alibi for the time that matters. But Bob Hornimman, so far as I know, is the only person who's troubled to offer us a false one. >> You're sure of that? >> Morally certain. I'm prepared to put every single waitress in the restaurant he says he went to that night into the box to swear they've never set eyes on Him. >> If you're right about the small bone murder, an Mild is going to be a pretty awkward witness for Bob Hornman, isn't she? She was on with him that Saturday morning. He must

have asked her to say they walked together to Hoben Circus when in fact she left him alone in the office. Or if they did go out together, it must have been earlier so that he'd have time to get back and get into the office again. He might like her out of the way. >> We'll try and nail him this weekend. There's a cottage he goes to on the Norfolk coast. Go sailing from there, they tell me. Yes, I've always got on very well with Anne Mardme. Why? >> Could you possibly have her to stay with

you this weekend, Miss Cornell? >> Friday night to Sunday night. >> That should cover it. >> I could ask her. >> I suppose it's no use asking what this is all about, Mr. Boon. >> I'd much rather you didn't. Just for 48 hours. >> You know H Hall's at this cottage, do you, Inspector? >> Yes. He arrived last night. I've got the local sergeant keeping an eye on him. I can't see that we stand against gain anything by waiting. Take a warrant and go down this afternoon. Whether you use it or not is entirely up

To you. I don't like the looks of it, sir. 4:00 he brought the boat in. He'd been up and down the est beating about getting a feel of her. might say he might be going to make a dash for it tonight. >> Didn't come ashore at all. >> He did come back to the house and had his tea which Mrs. Mullet got for him. She does for him. You know, cleans the place, gets in the stores. She said he was asking about a telephone Message he was expecting. >> Then he went aboard again. He's been

sitting there ever since. >> Well, I suppose we've got to take a chance. >> Mr. Hornman. >> Hello. Who the hell is that? >> Inspector Hazel rig here. I wanted a word with you. >> You've chosen a damn odd place for it. >> It is rather important. >> We better not stand here shouting at Each other across the water. >> Come on up to the cottage. Inspector, >> you're asking me a hell of a lot of questions, Inspector. Will you answer me just one if I can? Am I supposed to have murdered Small Bone? >>

Well, look here. I I've got an explanation for the apparent uh discrepancies in my statement, and it's got nothing to do with Small Bones or or Miss Chittering's death. I suppose if I were to give you my most solemn word, >> no, sir. >> No, I didn't think so. Well, I can't prevent you nosing around, but I'm damn well not going to help you. >> In that case, I have no alternative for >> Oh, you're back, Mr. Hornman. Your telephone call came through, sir. I wrote it down like you told me. Erz, >> thank you,

Molly. Very good of you. >> Not at all, sir. >> I shall have to ask you what it says. >> AZ negative. >> Thank God for that. Excuse me a moment. I've got to telephone 7. >> Before you telephone anyone, Mr. Hornan, >> perhaps she'll explain what it's all about. >> It's It's Anne Mild, of course. I'm in love with her, and when you allow me to telephone, I intend to propose to her. and that message. >> Yes. I I thought we both thought that she was going to have a child. My child. Now we

know she's not. She's had an Ashimed test at this result. So So now it's easy. I could ask her to marry me. >> I should have thought that if she had been going to have a child, you would have felt bound. >> That's just it. I should have felt bound. So would she. It would have been a hopeless basis for a marriage. >> If you say so. Now, if you'll please explain. >> Of course. Well, the evening Miss Chittering was Killed, Anne and I were having dinner together at a little restaurant in Fifth Street. >>

Do they know you there? >> Well, they ought to. I've been going there on off for the last 10 years. >> Yes. Well, you can give me the name afterwards now. What about the Saturday? >> Well, that really was rather awkward. You see, um, that was the day. Well, that that was when all the trouble started. >> You mean to say? >> Yes. Yes. I I'm afraid I do. Oh, no wonder you were too busy to answer the telephone. >> What? >> We traced a client who had rung no less than three times that morning.

We thought it very suspicious. >> Actually, we packed up and left at about quart 11. We didn't feel much like doing any office work. Anyway, Anne was determined we must keep the business Between us dark until >> quite. And you felt it sufficient reason to mislead the police, to give a false alibi, and to waste the time of the police in checking. And I know, of course, we oughtn't to have done it, but I thought she might turn me down if I didn't agree to do what she said. And it was only until the result

of the test came through. Besides, it never crossed our minds we could be suspected if Please, do you Think I could call Anne? She's staying with Miss Cornell. >> God's fresh air. God's free fresh air. What hell is up? Saturday morning alibi isn't much coming from a girl he's going to marry, but the two murders were quite definitely committed by the same pair of hands. The post-mortem marks on the neck show that the fractional left-handed pull which hallmark both killings. It must be the Same person. So, if the Soho restaurant confirms Hornimman's alibi for the

time of Miss Chittering's murder, then he's definitely out of it. There's that letter from Smallbone, of course. But it could be a plant. Those pin marks. Some people pin checks to a piece of paper with their signature on it. Lawyers get them every day. So remove the check and type a letter on top of the signature. >> Forgery without tears. >> You see them going off from Paddington to keep painting and places like that. Piles of piles of luggage. I don't call that a holiday. Nor do I. But take a nice large rucksack. God in

heaven. What idiots we've been a >> big pardon? >> When does this train stop? >> It doesn't stop. It's straight through to London. >> Well, then stop it. We must lump tree. Now listen. Just listen and Don't ask questions. I've just stopped the Chromemer Express and I reckon I've got about 2 minutes. Get hold of that chap Heymon, the shop assistant in that bag shop in the Strand. Yes, Miss Chittering's boyfriend. I want to find out when Miss Cornell bought a rucks sack there. Now, was it on the morning of, let me see, Saturday, February

the 20th. Play fair. Don't lead him on the date. If he isn't at home, put out a general alert, but find him. Right. This train is now due at Liverpool Street at a quarter 10. And I want you to get the information and meet me at the station with a police car and a good driver. Yes. Yes. I know it doesn't give you much time. You look as though that telephone call brought good news. And >> it did. Bob's asked me to marry him. >> And what did you say? >> I said yes. >> In

my day, that sort of thing was down To soft lights and sweet music, not over the telephone. There were complications. Well, I suppose I'd been making a silly fuss, but I thought I was pregnant and I didn't want a shotgun wedding. I mean, I'd never have known if he would have married me if he hadn't got to involved. But now I know I'm not pregnant, so I can come clean about everything. That Saturday morning, we were on duty together. Well, actually, >> not what one expects in a Hornman office. >> We went off to Norfolk

together on the midday train, and we were having dinner together in a restaurant on the night Miss Chittering was killed. I hope the police aren't going to be furious about the stories we made up. >> They'll get over it. So, everything's splendid for you. Engaged and cleared in the eyes of the law at one stroke. >> Well, but you can't think the police suspect. I'd rather think things weren't looking too good for Bob Hornman. Now you can clear him or clear each other. We must have a drink to celebrate. >> Here we are. Whiskey. >>

Will you open the bottle while I fetch glasses? >> Oh, of course. >> Yes. Doubles, don't you think? Here you are to you. >> It's strong, isn't it? >> It should be. It's genuine Glen Liver. I had this bottle given me when I won the open putter on the Octoori course. One more for your intended. >> Oh, I don't think >> it'll make you sleep. The funny thing is I can hardly keep my eyes open. Now I wonder if everybody's been as stupid as I have. That letter from Small Bone beginning, "Dear Mr. Hornman, as

Miss Cornell so carefully pointed out, of course it was planted by her. That dropped screw was a maneuver, and a clumsy maneuver at that, to give her an excuse to produce the letter from behind her desk. She thought that things were beginning to point to her, so she decided to implicate Bob. Ah, good. Seven Oaks at last. And why didn't we remember that playing golf develops your left wrist? And Mild could be in danger. It's she who's giving Bob an alibi for that Saturday morning. They were on duty together. It's my fault that she went

to stay with Miss Cornell. So, it's my responsibility that nothing happens to her. A fork ride here, I think. Of course. Miss Cornell did her safety with Eric Duxford, and on his usual Form, he'd be in for 10 minutes and away. Anyway, he had an appointment at his other office. And then all that speculation about the key of the deep box. Of course, the one person who could easily lay hands on it was Miss Cornell. And she could fix the appointment with Small Bone anytime she wanted. As for Miss Chittering's death, she had no real

alibi for that at all. Nobody remembered her on the train, and she Lived alone. Ah, getting near now. Oh, good. A policeman. >> Excuse me. I'm looking for a bungalow called Red Roofs. A Miss Cornell lives there. >> Oh, that's 500 yd long on your right, sir. >> Uh, I wonder would it be possible for you to come along with me? >> Well, you'll find a policeman there already, sir. And Inspector Hazelig, >> she's pleading guilty to the murder of Small Bone. She insisted on it, but I think she ought to get the maximum remission

of sentence. >> You mean taking into consideration that she'd no motive for personal gain, that it was all devotion to Able Hornman and so on? >> Yes. And as for Miss Chittering's murder, she's not being charged. >> The law officers don't advise it, which is as well for Miss Cornell because that Wasn't so pretty. >> She was fighting for her life, I suppose. >> Yes. It's odd, you know. The purchase of that rucks sack provided a single thin unbreakable thread which linked the body of Marcus Smallbone to the left luggage office at London Bridge Station.

I still don't see why a rock sack. >> Well, let me explain. Miss Cornell decides to kill Small Bone, who is going to expose the fact that Abel Hornman had By a fiddle got two separate mortgages on the same property. Now, she has to devise a hiding place where the body may lay hidden for some little time. And what better than a Horniman deep box? So handy, so capacious, and so fortunately airtight. But what is she to do with all the papers and files in it? >> Of course, the rock sack. >> Exactly. So on

that very Saturday morning, she buys one, dumps the papers in it after she's put Small Bone's body In the deed box, and leaves it in the London Bridge left luggage office. It was a bit of bad luck that the rucks sack was sold to her by Miss Chittering's fiance, who recognized her and told Miss Chittering about it, who blurted it out in front of virtually the whole staff, >> including me. She kept her head at the time and just turned the conversation. >> Yes, but I reckon she knew from that moment what would have to

be done. >> Poor Miss Chittering. As you say, not a pretty business. Do you think I was drugged that night >> at seven eggs? >> You had a very advanced hangover the next morning. >> I think it was two glasses of neat whiskey coupled with excitement. >> And what was I supposed to be excited about? >> The prospect of marrying a farmer. The joke of it is that I decided to take up Farming to get away from paperwork. And now milk marketing, cows in calf, feeding staffs, estimated quantities, and I haven't even got a secretary.

>> No, you haven't. >> That's Sergeant Cochril and Sergeant Rolls, [music] Manning Wilson, Assistant Commissioner, Edward Duza, Miss Maggali, the housekeeper, and the manager S. Sheila Gr. Crime at Christmas continues tomorrow on a slightly different tack. Inspector, >> I've asked you not to call me that. >> Oh, no, sir. >> Nor yet, sir. >> Sir, >> Tanner. >> Inspector [music] French and the Starvel tragedy. >> Inspector French of Scotland Yard has just completed a most interesting case when he [music] receives an offer he simply can't refuse. >> How do you feel about a trip to

Yorkshire? >> Well, I was rather hoping for a breather, sir. >> Right. This is the very thing. more like murder. The detective constable assigned to assist French on the case is well green. There's an eerie [music] house that's just burned to the ground and three dead bodies have been found in its ashes. But there is a pretty girl in the affair. She's a young lady with a fondness for flower shows and [music] Other things.