Appleby’s End | Inspector Sir John Appleby | BBC Radio Drama | A Country House, A Disturbing Secret

Snal. Hey, Snal. Is this a train for Snal? >> Oh, it's the one, sir. Change your linger. >> Linger. I mustn't keep the train waiting. In you go, sir. Out of the cold, cold snow. >> Looks very crowded. >> Room for one in the corner, sir. In you go. >> Right you are, >> I do beg your path. >> John hurt. in Apple Biz End by Michael Inennis dramatized by Michael Baker with John the Measurer, Christopher Benjamin, Joyce Redmond, and Pipper Gar. Bare white fields and cattle steamy and dejected in the falling snow. and my

traveling companions seem to have taken refuge from the world outside beneath the Sunday papers. The Sabbath devotions of the English Nation love nest in Louisam blunt instrument in bal thin lipped women between policemen outside the size halls judges and coroners and detective inspectors from Scotland Yard. A young man standing outside a burntout stable wearing a frightful bowler hat. Good god, it's me. Classic crimes. The gaffer oers's murder. A triumph for Applebee of the yard. Yes. On the 27th of September 1825, Stevenson drove a train of 34 vehicles at a speed of from 10 to 15

mph. This was on the Stockton and Darlington Railway. >> It is sometimes possible to feel that our rural railway system has made little progress since. >> It's tedious enough, I suppose. I see, sir, that you are interested in railway history. >> Oh, dear me. No, no, no, no, no. In fact, certainly not. I have no interest whatsoever in such a subject. I wonder if I might have the pleasure of lending you a book to while away the journey. Now there is uh let's see there is Dr. Bosel's recent work on theists a somewhat diffuse exposition

I'm afraid but here is Stutterford on the monophysicites an altogether more concise monograph if one May judge by bulk. You're very kind, but I'm afraid that the subject of heresy >> is of no interest to you. >> Nor is it to me. Well, now there are two romances by Anthony Hope, Sprat's history of the Royal Society. Spencer and Tyber on the Tyrannosaurus, a current turf guide, a volume of Libby, two pamphlets on artificial respiration. >> I think Anthony Hope would be best. >> The prisoner of Zender. >> Thank you. I suppose that you are a

book seller or publisher. >> Sir, I have never engaged in trade. Allow me to offer you my card. >> Everard Raven, barristister at law. Thank you. >> Applebe is my name. I made my guess merely on the strength of books you have with you. There seems to be no possible connection between any of them. >> Oh, you're mistaken. Pardonably, sir. It Must be confessed. For the link, although it is there, is scarcely as philosophical as I would wish. As a man of letters, well, I must refrain, Mr. Aby, that I've long since given over the

practice of the law in favor of literary pursuits. But as a man of letters, I must confess indeed that the link is a sadly arbitrary one. The Docetists and the Monophysites may be subsumed under the common term religion. The Tyrannosaurus is a reptile. Libby treats Of the history of Rome. That her guide concerns racing. Artificial respiration is an aspect of resuscitation. And Anthony Hope wrote about rural. Then would I be right if I were to have another guess and say that you are editing an encyclopedia? >> Your guess would be approximately correct. Unfortunately, the word

edit scarcely meets the case. You would be better to say compile. >> Compile. I'll write it. I'll write the Whole damn thing. >> The whole affair must be a rather burdensome task. I'm >> sure it is. Particularly as we come out in fortnightly pass. I had a message only yesterday to say that Patagonia to potato would be on the bookstores on Thursday. It really is uncommonly had a sing. Mr. Adelby, may I ask if you go far? >> I change Linger Junction. Ah, well, Mr. Don't let my idle chatter distract you From matters. Roen, >>

where is that? >> The prisoner of Zendar being the history of three months in the life of an English gentleman. Yatter. >> I beg your bum. >> Yatter. A gutly little place. Seems quite popular. Everyone's got off. >> Uh, we shall be filling up again presently. Our next port of call is Abbott's Yatter and King's Yatter. After Which we come to Drew. I think you said you hope to change at Linger. >> Yes. >> Yes. Ah, St. Clement. Really? Very inclement indeed. >> You think there may be some difficulty about changing at Linger? I suppose

it was your aim to get to Sneak or Snal. >> I booked a room at the inn at Snal and I shall certainly hope to get there tonight. >> I'd have to tell you that it can't be done. The train to Snal never waits to make the connection. But what the timetable? >> Oh, my dear sir, the timet was printed long before Gregory Grope's grandmother fell down the well. I hardly see. >> For a long time, she was just missing and her house at sneak, a very nice house, stood empty. But when she came up

with the bucket one day and it was quite clear that she was dead, Gregory Grope's Mother moved from sneak to Snal. >> Do I understand that Gregory Grope is the engine driver? >> Exactly. Exactly, sir. Yes. Yes. Yes. Gregory Grope drives the Snal train, and the train of course spends the night at Snal. But Gregory has to get home on his motorbicycle to sneak and his mother is decidedly strict about late hours. So Gregory and his train now leave Linger somewhat earlier than before. >> Alex Perhaps you can tell me if there is an inn

at Linger. >> An inn? Oh dear me. No. Well, there's a waiting room. But I think I'm right in saying that the waiting room is used at present for Brettingham Skulls Loster old spots. Rettingham Skull >> the porter had linger. >> Gloucester old spots. >> Glouster old spots. Quite a cleanly variety of pig I've been told. Nevertheless, >> well, now what about King's Yatter or Drew? Is there a pub or somebody who might let her room? >> Let me see. Now, there's a uh there's old Mrs. Alstra Drew. She used to let a room, but

I doubt if she does now. Not since she went out of her mind. Poor old. Of course, you might try. King's Yatter already. >> You know the George at King's Yatter? >> The George? >> What a fine little hotel. Incomparable Stilson and very good draft beer. >> Oh, that I think. If you'll excuse me, >> my dear sir. Yes, sir. I'm sorry to say. It was burnt down last year by Hannah Hubin's boy. Oh, I suppose it's still snowing >> heavily. I really think that your best plan would be to spend the night with me.

My place is three stops beyond linger. Sleep's hill, Fox's bottom, and my own station at which a conveyance will be waiting. And in the morning, I Think we can promise to get you across the snow. >> Well, it's uncommonly kind of you. >> Well, we can decide at lingo. Uh, I told you we should be filling up. Here's a passenger coming. >> Not the kind of man likely to bring Gerty to the tail end of a Sabbath railway journey. I fancy. With that cloak and that hat, he could be either an anarchist or an artist.

But which? Ah, better linger. Yeah, not a doubt of it. Regard is gone. >> Well, so that's settled. >> Thank you. >> What a writer of the old school would have described as tall and slim, but definitely attractive. But why does she keep staring at me? Come to think of it, the anarchist artist keeps staring at me as well. >> Sleeps hill and a regular visit. And we're still filling up. Box at the bottom and a snowman on the platform. Oh, no it isn't. It's another passenger, a young man. And he started to stare at

me as well. What is it that's so strange about them? Better take refuge in Anthony here. If you walk through the picture galleries of Beldon, among the 50 portraits or so of the last century and a half, you will find five or six, including that of the sixth, all Distinguished by long, sharp, straight noses. The nose, that's it. All five of my fellow passengers have the same long, straight nose. Mind you, it looks quite attractive on the girl. If it weren't for the fact that they haven't uttered a single word to one another, one might

suppose some degree of kinship between them. Is the nose a consequence of sustained inbreeding? Perhaps Brettingham Skurl and Gregory Grope have it, too. Perhaps it was the only remaining distinguishing feature on the old person who came up with the bucket out of the well. We'll soon be there and it's quite a short drive, not more than 3 miles, unless of course anything had gone wrong at the Ford or there are snow drifts in Noble's Lane or the axle really goes this time or our man has been drinking again at the arms or spot casts a

shoe. One can't ever bar accidents and I must repeat that it's uncommonly kind of you to ask me to stop the night. >> Mr. Applebee, Mr. Applebee who is a acquaintance I've only just had the pleasure of making. But Mr. Applebee, this is my brother Luke, >> my brother Robert, my cousin Mark, >> and my cousin Judith. >> Oh, dear me. Here we are. >> Applebe did you say >> Applebe? >> Applebe. Oh, that's very >> Applebe. By the way, what is the name of this station? >> We're freezing. >> Hey ho. >> Hey ho.

Hey ho. >> Hey ho. Hey ho. Hey ho. Hey ho. Hey ho. Hey ho. >> Should I join in? Is this the proper thing to do for passengers who arrive at Applebee's? Or is it a ritual peculiar to the ravens? And what about an Applebee? >> Oh well. Heyi ho. Heyi ho. >> Heyi ho. Where the deuce have you been? >> I might eat my dinner. >> A most bidious and drunken monster with the face of a raven. I need my dinner. >> Now, Mr. Applebee, if you care to take your place in the family

coach, uh, you Did remember to bring the football. Heiho, there'll be just room inside for all. >> No. Oh, human have potatoes. >> Potatoes? Hey, ho. What do you mean? >> You have potatoes and the endsman have corn and the commen have cake and spotman have his bottle of h is all taken up. I suppose he might just fit Judith in on top of the sacks. But for the rest of us, it looks like the box >> and the boot. Perhaps some of us a bit Better walk. But it would be a shame if we

didn't manage to get Mr. Applebee inside, too. >> Please don't concern yourself about me. I can quite easily >> plenty of room for Mr. Applebee. Push him in. >> Push them in. >> Push in. >> Push in the beed stranger. >> Potato pie. >> Cattle cake collapse. Oh, >> and down with the lid. >> Mr. Applebee, where are you? >> Well, I I don't quite know. My head's up against the roof. I think I'm on top of a bottle of hay. >> Well, if you remain up there when we get in the lane, you will

break your neck. And if you come down, you will find some 6 in of seat between me and that sack. You will probably judge social embarrassment preferable to a dislocated cervical vertebrae. >> I'll see what can be done. >> It's a very tight fit. >> I I I believe that it was Dr. Johnson who held few pleasures to exceed that of driving through the country in a post chase with a pretty girl. I should say you weigh about 11 stones six. >> Well, uh, yes, I do. >> And you must be just on 5'11, which

suggests you are in pretty good condition for a dawn. >> A dawn? >> Well, only a dawn would bring out a pedantic thing like that about Dr. Johnson. >> Thank you. But I'm not a dawn. I'm a policeman. >> A policeman? Do you mean a detective? Shades of great Uncle Ran. No wonder Everard nobled you. He's always harking back to the uh disreputable family past. Well, >> he hasn't mentioned your great uncle Ran. Was he someone who had to be Oh, well uh detected by a detective. >> Certainly not. Do you mean to say you've

never heard of Randolph Raven? >> Randolph Raven? I seem to remember a pre- raffulite painter. >> That was his cousin >> and a bishop who said something witty about Matthew Arnold. Ranoff's younger brother, >> a poet uh who was in the foreign office and wrote trilets and madreals. >> Another brother and the grandfather of Mark and myself. Ran Raven had any number of younger brothers. He also had three sons, all of whom you've met, Everard, Luke, and Robert. Mark and I are the children of their first cousin, what are called first cousins once removed. That's

why we say cousin to them, although they're enormously old. >> Are you uncomfortable or just restless? No, I'm not uncomfortable. But as it does appear to be necessary that one of Us should sit on the other, I think it would be better. >> Diff was a novelist. >> Good lord. Yes. Stupid of me. A sort of second Wilky Collins and enormously prolific. >> Ah, you've noticed Heiho. >> I beg your pardon. >> Just like Cousin Robert, isn't he? And most of the servants are legacies like that, I believe. And the only legacy is run off

left. You'd have expected all Those novels to have turned into a little capital, wouldn't you? But nothing, nothing at all. And we all seem to take to activities of that sort. I sculpt. >> You what? >> You know, bashing lumps of marble about with a hammer and chisel. >> Well, that would account for the particularly inhuman way you were looking at me on the train. I should have known that it was art. Anyway, There isn't a bean in it, which is why I sponge on Uncle Evard and his encyclopedias and things like the rest of

them. >> Anyway, what are you after? >> After? >> Well, you're obviously snooping around. >> My dear Miss Raven, I assure you that it's only the meest accident that >> it's perfectly clear that you put yourself cunningly in Everard's way. And a good thing, too. I felt for a long Time that the whole business ought to be cleared up. the whole business. Do I understand that you suppose me to come down to clear up some family mystery? >> It's as plain as a bike staff. Only you'll have the devil of a business. You see, it's

not so much a matter of clearing up the present as the past. Or so it seems to me. And at Long Dream, there's a lot of the past lying about. >> Long Dream, >> that's the name of the place where Long Dream Manor. >> I see. And you are the lady of the manor. >> No. Aunt Clarissa is that Ran's half brother's daughter. You'll soon find your way about. There's a very helpful family tree in the hall. >> Well, I doubt whether I shall have time to inspect it. My business is in a place called

Snream Manor and its inhabitants. I take no Interest whatsoever. >> Hey, keep on the road. You'll have us out of here. And isn't it strange about our station being called Applebee's End? >> A curious coincidence. >> Just that. >> Oh, would you say it was the axle or just spot casting a shoe? >> Neither. It's the Ford. We're stuck in it. >> Good lord. Are you sure? >> I'm sitting in several inches of water. And from this, as your professional training will tell you, there is the inference. >> I'm going to try to get my

head out of the window. >> Hey ho. Hey ho. Hey ho. >> Hey ho. Heyi ho. >> Hey ho. Hey ho. >> What's happening? Heiho seems to have cut the traces and got away with spot. They're on the farther side of the Forrid scoundrel. What's he doing about it? >> I rather think he's filling his pipe. >> A disgusting old man. >> Heyi hoe ho. >> Hey ho. >> What about the others? >> Well, they're on the other bank yelling like mad. >> Heiiho has produced a bottle. I think your cousin may be said to

be upgrading him. Much of Jolly thinks so. >> I say, isn't the water rising? It's optim to nearly my armpits. >> Oh, good lord. Well, we must get a door open and edge out some of these confounded sacks and then we'll be able to move. Right, here we go. Right. And another. And one more. The potatoes won't come to any harm, but about the cake for the cow, I don't know At all. And as for the books on reptiles and religion and >> I don't know what you're talking about. Do we wade or swim? >>

Wade, I think. >> Lord, we're floating. >> We're spinning like a top. >> We're suddenly on the move. >> Oh my word. >> We'd better swim. >> Better wait. There's a shop there. He'll probably be washed up on the bank. It's Coming up. >> Certainly hasn't grounded. What happens after the bank? >> Well, then you come to the river. >> The river? >> The dream gets quite broad here. >> Hello. Here comes the moon. >> Absolutely grotesque. We might be on the vulgar. Of >> course, there isn't much of it like this. It narrows about

a mile down. >> Why don't we sink? >> Heaven knows. The sooner we stop being inside passengers, the better. It's either swim straight away or climb to the roof. If the first, get some of your clothes off. If the second, don't. >> We'll We'll try the roof. Swing the door open and see if we can climb up by that. And as for clothes, the wet skirt is likely to be a nuisance. In any case, let's get rid of it now. Off to you. >> Right up you come. >> Safe and for the moment reasonably Sound.

>> It's rather restful. >> If this were August, it would be altogether romantic. I should forget my discarded skirt and the fact that my legs are beginning to feel rather chilly. I should look back and dream of my wonderful policeman. Her delights, I should recall, were dolphin like, but his conduct was irreroachable, and his conversation uniformly improving. >> Oh, bless you. But as it is, I'd swap you without a moment's hesitation for a bowl of hot soup. >> It's a pity there seems to be nobody abroad at this hour. We should become a legend that

would haunt the countryside for generations, don't you think? >> Oh, quite enough legends already. Oh, this is the Raven country still, you know. >> Is it indeed? But then you can't be so overwhelming a burden on your cousin Everard's resources. >> My dear man, I don't mean we own it. All Everard has left a chunk of park and a couple of hooky farms. I mean, this is the country Ranol wrote about. Hardius Wessix, Trolop's Bucher, Randolph Raven's dream country. See, >> I see. And did Randolph create the legends or just find them lying about? >>

It rather seems as if he grub them up. Anything with lurid possibilities that happened within 20 mi about, he would f It out and add knobs to. >> What a dismal trade. I think this moonlight voyage has gone on long enough. I vote we swim. There's a 5mile walk ahead of us already. No chance of dinner. >> I dove. We're drifting straight in shore. Come on, we'll make dinner yet. When I say jump, jump. >> Don't be silly. I shall jump when I think it's a good idea myself. And if it's me that FALLS IN.

>> NO. >> OH, >> are you all right? >> Oh, fine. Thanks. Now, where the deuce is your coat? >> I left it on board. Too heavy and flappy to risk jumping in. >> Oh, here. Put this on. >> If you turn out to be the shiverous type of policeman, I shall bite. >> Put it on. >> Nonsense. Once I get walking briskly, I Shall be >> Do you think that I propose to be found roaming around the country with a with with a disroedged girl? Put it on and let's [ __ ] >> Why

I didn't choose Briting and what's his name's pigs, I'll never know. Take it back about the pigs and I'll give you some chocolate. >> I take it back. I suppose you can find your way. >> Of course. At least I think so. Country Is certainly oddly unfamiliar in the snow and by moonlight. Oh, look. There's a house over there to your left. >> Come on. >> It isn't a house. It's a haystack. I suppose that means there must be a house of sort somewhere nearby if we follow this fence. >> I say I've been told

that hay stacks are most frightfully snug. One takes off one's wet clothes and burrows in. At first it's extremely prickly, but Presently a delicious warmth. >> Don't believe a word of it. >> A delicious warmth steals through every limb. Oh, come on. Let's try. Hold your coat while I get out of these wet things. >> There'll be rats. >> Rats? >> Yes, rats. place teeming with them. >> Oh, and I said wrath. I believe you think it's improper. Here's a ladder. Come on. Or shall I Draw it up after me? >> Leave it where it

is. >> Have I been asleep? It's certainly warm. God only knows what the assistant commissioner would think if he got to hear about this. M >> Miss Raven. >> Yes. >> We ought to be going soon. >> Oh, I'm not going. I'm sleepy. >> I don't believe a word of it. >> Tell me, what on earth put it into your head that I was proposing to investigate the mouldering skeletons in the Raven family cupboards? >> I don't know what you're talking about. Comfy. Now, >> I don't believe that your cupboards have any skeletons at all,

except of mice and bats and spiders. If spiders have skeletons. >> Our cupboards have got skeletons. >> They have not. >> Very well. Listen, you must understand that my brother Mark and I have lived at Dream ever since we were children. Our parents were dead, you see. And Ran, of course, had died 20 or 30 years before, and nobody thought of him. Or so you would think. Certainly, nobody bought his books anymore, and he blewed all he ever made out of them. So, it was quite a time before Mark and I found out that there

was a runoff raven legend. what you might call a popular legend. The First we heard of it was from a blind old man who came tap tapping over the bridge with a stick >> and delivered a black spot. I do think when you start telling a yarn you should keep off Treasure Island. >> The blind man lent over a gate and talked to us in a cunning fearful sort of voice. "Come here, young lady and gentlemen," he said. Come here, my dears, and let me talk to you. Master Raven, young sir, and Miss Raven, my

Young lady. Very proud of your famous grandfather you must be, my dears, and great scholars you must be with all these grand book learned folk in your family. Mind you, I don't say he said it just like that. I'm no good at dialect. He's beginning to sound like an Irishman, which he wasn't, but that was the general effect. >> Go on. Well, then he said, "Did your dear grandfather ever write down the story of the blind lad that killed his Brother? The blind lad who hated his brother for what he' taken from him and knew

he always would hate him?" Well, I was scared. And I think Mark was scared, too. The scared just puts the devil in. Mark, "Yes, of course," he said. That's one of the most famous stories grandfather ever wrote. And instead of showing panic or alarm, as you might have expected, a look came over the blind man's face of the most ghastly Disappointment. And he said, "Then a curse on him and you." And we never saw him again. >> And is there a ran off raven story ever? >> There's not. We found out afterwards that there isn't,

as it happens, a single blind man in the whole ran. Mark just made it up on the spot. Is it still snowing? No more snow. We can be on our way soon. Go on with your yarn. >> Well, Mark and I discovered that Ranov Had a reputation among the peasantry for having possessed prophetic powers. For instance, we found out from Ever's old housekeeper, who's dead now, that in Ranoff's time, people used to come and consult him about the future, just as if he were an old woman with earrings sitting in a tent. >> And did

he make this special talent of his available for all comers? He was affable and conversible. Actually, I think he just supposeded a chance to Worm people's stories out of them. Doesn't really seem promising to me. So few people have stories worth speaking of, after all. I'm sure I haven't. A woman without a past and without a future whom novelist could muscle in on. >> What are you doing? >> Putting some clothes on. >> You sure it will be empty? >> What? >> Your future? >> Oh, I suspect so. I suspect it's going To be quite

different. >> Still, there's the point. >> What point? >> What Ran was interested in. Not people's past or future, but their fantasies. He made stories out of people's daydreams. All the lurid and scandalous things people saw themselves doing, and sometimes, of course, and perhaps years later, they would really do them, or something tolerably like. And there it would be already in one of Randph Raven's stories. And the result would be a popular notion that his stories were really a species of prophetic books. >> So the blind >> as a lad he cherished a nasty plan

to liquidate his brother, but he remembered having led it out to Ran. So he had a fear that it would be a pretty risky business to commit a crime which might have been put into a book donkeys years before. Hence his fury on being told by Your brother that there was such a yarn of ranoffs. >> I must say you have quite the professional touch. >> Is the ladder still there? >> Yes, it is. >> Time you were off. >> I would call it extremely nasty. Listen, this story of yours is all fibs. Yes or

no? >> No. The whole story of the blind man is gospel. Why? >> Because for some reason you don't seem very proud of it. In fact, you seem less pleased with it every time we look at each other. Oh, >> what rot. It's just that the whole ranoff business is so tiresome. I suppose >> surely it's all past history now. >> I suppose it is. Come on, let's go. Applebee's end. Surely they couldn't. >> Whatever are you talking about? >> Oh, nothing. Come on. There's a very chilly 5 mile walk ahead of us. >> My

clothes are still wet. >> So are mine. What about a race to warm us up a bit? >> Not in this overcoat. >> I'll carry it. >> I thought I was wearing it to satisfy your sense of decorum. >> Come on. Right. Ready, get set, go. >> You better. >> Oh, much. >> Right then, go on with your story. >> Oh, you'd only laugh. >> What do you mean? Well, you probably think it's all rot, but the fact is this, that every now and then, Ran's ghost pops up and does something rather ineffective by vindicating

Ranol's character as a seer. >> Mr. Applebee, >> John, didn't you hear a shout or a cry? A >> shout is likely enough. How far are we From home now? >> Oh, not more than a mile. I suppose they may be hunting for us. Let's dodge them. Well, turn into the wood at the bottom of this hill and take the bridal path. That brings us straight into the stables. >> You were telling me about Randolph's ghost. >> So, I was. >> Why did you say he was ineffective? >> Because it would take a runoff expert

to Understand what was going on. >> But what is going on? >> Ran off stories. >> Are you suggesting that the ghost tries to arrange things so that some of his hory old tales start coming true 40 years on? >> Something like that. I'll give you an example. There's a story of Ran called the coach of Cacus. You'll remember that Cacus was >> Yes. was the son of Valkcon and a cattle Thief. He confused people of my profession who might be around by hauling cattle about backwards by their tails. >> H anyway, this story is

about a coachman who got away with something nasty by harnessing his horse head first into the shafts and making it back away through the snow or mud or something, tracks appearing to lead in the wrong direction and throwing people off the scent. What do you think of that? Singularly little, I'm afraid, the carriage wouldn't go straight, and anyone knowing horses would only have to glance at the >> It happened to Heiho. >> Heiiho. >> Last winter in snow just like this. Oh, we'll turn off here. There are several dips that are sure to be full

of drifted snow, but it's a shortcut. >> You were saying that? Heyo. >> He'd gone into the local pub one night when he was supposed to be doing Something else. He left Spot in his cart outside, and when he came out, the brute was harnessed in the wrong way round, just as in the coach Cacus. The ghost of Ranol, you see, amusing himself by playing variations on his own story. And Heihjo was so tight that he couldn't make out what had happened. He tried to drive through the village. >> Oh, damn. Running right up to

my knees. >> Up you come. >> Evidently, one of the dips you mentioned. Nothing like keeping up the evening's fun to the very end. But surely the whole thing was a practical joke by somebody who knew Ronald's cacas yarn. your brother most likely. >> Mark's not much of a ran fan, and he didn't even know the coach of Cactus. >> Sure. >> Quite sure. Mark and I have an agreement not to tell lies to each other. It's Extraordinarily convenient. >> No doubt. >> Of course, it was just a joke and funny, but the point is,

it's only one of a number of incidents. Incidents not funny. Usually slightly sinister, but always extremely ineffective. And they're all hitched onto the Randolph opera. >> Yes, >> I see. But even if ineffective, these incidents seem to have been on your Mind. And you call them sinister. There's really something about them that upsets or scares you. >> Scares me? Oh, rubbish. That blind man affair years ago may have scared me, but I was a kid then. Nothing scares me now. Hey ho. Hey ho, or rather Heiho's head. >> A great loss. Sugar, Mr. Applebee. >>

Thank you, Mr. >> For spot, that is to say, >> dead. Reach me over the ham. Hell. >> Hell. This place is too cold for hell. Hell is murky. >> Plenty of coffee. Rainbird always rises to the occasion. I'm very glad it wasn't Rainbird. A rainbird. Yes, mom. >> I'm glad it wasn't you. This organization inside the house is much more trying than outside. >> Thank you, Mom. >> Look here. Is there something queer about Heiho's death? >> I don't like the feeling of all this a bit. I didn't like the manner of the people

who brought him back. What's it all about? >> His head. His head was lying on the snow. On the snow? >> No, no, no. You've got it all wrong, my dear. The poor old chap's body is up there in his room, and his head's on his shoulders. All right. >> Was I just seeing things? We came around a corner and I thought I saw Heiho's Head lying there on the snow. His eyes were glaring. >> It was a snow drift. He was buried up to the neck in snow and quite dead when you saw him.

Actually, it gave you a bit of a turn. And Mr. Applebee carried you home. >> Do you know that you had straws in your hair? Just as if you were a distraught heroine. >> Oh, Robert, it was hay. Mr. Applebee and I had been tumbling in the hay. >> Tumbling in the hay? was not that rather unseasonable, child, and indeed rather. >> Clarissa, the events of the evening are still distinctly confused, but we are extremely grateful to our guest for having looked after Judith so well. And now, I think it would be wise if we

went to bed. There's no denying that a certain amount of awkwardness awaits us in the morning. So, a good night's sleep. >> Awkwardness. Remembered, there are Plenty of eggs and so forth. Coffee, beans. >> Oh, yes, Mom. I'm here, Lesser, that you don't quite apprehend what I mean by awkwardness. The awkwardness will be with the police and with people of that sort. >> Oh, no doubt there will be policemen, but Rainird is perfectly competent to entertain them in the servants hall. Judith, Judith, dear, why are you making faces at me? >> Because of Mr. Applebee,

Aunt Clarissa, Mr. Applebee is a policeman. >> Oh, is he indeed? Nowadays, there are so many interesting careers, are there not? But I was referring to the local constabulary. And will someone tell me, by the way, why the police should be interested in Heiho's death? Now, if it had been Rainbow, >> my dear, it appears to be the general opinion that it is impossible to bury Oneself up to the neck in a snow drift. It would seem, therefore, that that somebody must have deliberately dug the unfortunate old man in. >> Do you mean that Hiho

has been murdered? >> It rather looks as if it must be called that. Oh, no doubt as Hannah Ruben's boy. Only last month he stole a turkey from the Merkox. Why that hysterical laugh? I was only yawning by way of preparing to go to bed. Rainbird, Mr. Applebee has Been most kind to me. Do see that he has soap as well as towels or towels as well as soap. >> Very good, Miss Judith. >> Good night, everybody. Aunt Clarissa, come along. >> Good night, Judith. Have a good night, Lissa. >> And I think we ought

to be off, too. >> Yes, I think it is time to call it a day. >> Nor shall we have a cigar? >> The new millennium people send down a box every time we tick off a letter. >> Yes, we'll have a cigar. >> But Clarissa will find the smoke oppressive in the morning. >> In which case, it will be better to move to the library, >> which will at least give Mr. Applebee the opportunity to feast his eyes on Theodore's fantasies. >> This way, Mr. Applebee. >> I'm alone. All right, follow me. Uh, now

The uh the wax work figures are the collection of Adulus Raven. >> Well, they are certainly remarkable, but uh why are they all >> Mongolians? Well, Adulus joined the Rish Communion and was appointed bishop of Manu Sardike, which gave him ample scope to assemble the collection. The collection was something of a landmark in its own field. Only a few years ago, the whole thing was wanted by a museum in Idaho, I think. Or perhaps it was Oregon. Only there was a hitch at the last moment. >> They didn't see their way to pay. I shall

go to bed, deard. >> All right, you'll do that. Good. Now, come along, Mr. Come along. Right. Well, here we are. And how pleasant. How present is the an excellent fire. This is the library, Mr. Applebee. the the library. Yes, I see that you're somewhat permused by poor Uncle Theodore's marble. Most of it, of course, is in Judith's studio, but the choice of pieces were brought in here. The new bile lady who is joyfully leaping onto the bull is the rape of your roper, although she's been compared to a bearback rider in the circus. The

youth clasping what Mark insists is a bear barrel is genius guarding the secret of the tomb. Would you like a cigar or something? Of course, this this sort of thing is not exactly modern taste. I myself prefer Judith every Time. Indeed, a few years ago, we explored the possibilities of selling Theodore up. But you see, there there seem to be very little public interest in his work. >> Let me light you up, Mr. Applebee. >> Thank you. >> Books, on the other hand, always have their price. Yes, I had noticed that the library >> is

distinguished by the almost total absence of books. Yes. >> Yes. >> We found that a folio volume of 18th century sermons is a reasonably good breakfast all round. Mr. Applebee is at present in process of digesting a volume of Dodsley's Miselony or a badly cropped copy of Dryden's Fables. >> Mark, when I was a boy, I was taught that gentlemen don't talk money after dinner. And even if that good habit has fallen into into dis I suppose that Heiho was a fairly Elderly man older than any of you. >> Heiho de as the hills poor

old chap must have been a must have been a stable lad about the place when I was a baby in arms about a contemporary of Rainbirds I should say. Wouldn't you Robert? >> Well Rainbird and Heiho were both born some years before any of us. Judith was telling me some story about him and the horse. Uh, Spot, isn't it? She said there was some kind of connection with one of Ran's stories. I Didn't quite understand it. Spot? Oh, that. Well, I suppose she felt the necessity to entertain you with something. Did she tell you about

the blind man when we were kids? >> Yes. Yes, you told me about that. >> Oh, that old family story. I haven't heard it mentioned for years. >> What? Judith must have on her mind is the business of the coach of Cacquist and the other affairs of that sort. Luke's tombstone for instance. >> Oh, your brother has a tombstone. A Christmas present. Somebody sent Luke a tombstone. What could better hit his taste? >> Yeah, I don't suppose, Mr. Applebe, that you happened ever to have read my father's Paxton's Destined Hour. It's about someone called Paxton

who is strolling past the sort of place where they make tombstones when his eye is suddenly caught by his own name. He finds he is reading his own tombstone Complete with the date of his death. >> But I've read a story like that and certainly not by your father. >> Yes, quite quite so. Yes, but these things do happen. >> Only Luke didn't just see a tombstone. Somebody sent him one by rail complete with date of death. Reference to Paxton's destined eye was obvious. And how did your brother feel about it? >> Well, to start

with, he went around telling everybody, and that was awkward, For some little reporter creature on our local paper, got hold of the story, and it it looked as if Luke was going to be thoroughly pestered. Fortunately, Everard solicitor, who is a family friend, was here at the time, and stopped any fast. >> After that, Luke began rather to hug the thing. >> May it be said to account for his present. Uh, well, rather allergic move. >> I shall hardly say so. Luke is commonly Like that. But as the date approached, what you might call Luke's

destined hour, >> you mean the dates passed. It's all over. >> Oh, dear me. Yes. How how long ago was it, Evra? >> Oh, 6 months or thereabouts. >> The appointed day must have been not without its discomfort for a man of naturally morbid mind. >> But the day came and went, and nothing Happened. We certainly know whether Luke was really disturbed. Anyway, the day just passed. >> Luke still has the tombstone. He says that only a little alteration will be necessary, and it will do later on. >> Oh, dear me, how late it is.

We really must be getting Mr. Applebe to bed. Mark, we so good as a wrinkle rainbow, would you? And Billy Bwell must be told to take Mr. Apple Bit a sn. And I hope, my dear sir, that you will Come back to us when your when your uh your your business is transacted. >> Thank you, >> Judith. I'm sure I'd be anxious to have your opinion of her work. >> You rang, sir. >> I kindly provide our guest with a candle and see him to his room. >> Yes, sir. >> Good night, Mr. Applebee. >>

Good night. >> Good night. >> Good night. >> Before she went to bed, sir, Miss Judith handed me this notice. It is for you, sir. >> Thank you. >> Dear Mr. Applebee, there is nothing corresponding to the death of Heiho in any of Ran Raven's works. You are to sleep in his room. Everything he published is in the bookcase near the door. I hope you have a safe journey to Snal. Yours sincerely, Judith Raven. >> Very sad about Heiho. Ah, quite shocking, huh? Might have been worseer. It might have been worse by far. Might set

a spot. They always set hey-iho, so who cares? Yep, buddy. Set. Isn't that what you do with turnips? Ah, they set heyiho in snow. But who is they? >> They Well, who would it be, mister? That was true with them. Mr. Everard And Mr. Robert to be sure and Mr. Luke. >> You mean to tell me you believe that all these people set upon Heiho and >> Mr. Mark and all and Miss Judith and Miss Clarissa too? >> It may interest you to know that I was with Miss Judith myself the whole time. >> Oh,

where? >> What do you mean by where? >> Where was you, Miss Judith? All that time there. >> We had a good deal of difficulty making our way back to Dream. >> Yeah. Rainer do say you was in hastack. >> Certainly. It came on to snow very hard and we had to take shelter by a haystack. >> Ah, Rainbow do say in a haststack. >> Quite so. Surprisingly warm. >> My good fellow. What should put it into your head that your master and his brothers could possibly have anything to do with the death of Ho?

Cuz ravens Don't like other folk. Maybe because of the stories. >> The story? You mean one of Randolph Raven's stories? >> Grammar Bwell stories. A relative of yours. Raspby memor. tale of the fearful maid and how she came upon a howling and hollering head. Well, how did she? >> Ah, this fearful maid is young and tender as any in the parish was walking through squares ash b sp b sp b sp b sp B sp b sp b sp b sp b sp b spinny it was spring in the stink weed was rife in the

ditches and from across the meadow the bar cocking the blubber >> leave them out drop the stinkweed and keep to the maid. Well, she came round a a bend and there was the head lying on the ground. It was as if tumbled by the side and it roared its size. It foed at the mouth. It howled like all the souls of all the damned in hell. It was the head of the squire Himself, and it squinned at that fearful maid, and her wit left her poor tender Pete. It never more words spoke she, but to

how it holler like the head, and Squire was offended at that, and turned her out of the parish. >> Squire? You mean the same squire, the one who had lost his head? He had no more lost his head than I have. It was all the work of a great doctor famous in those days amid the strange cures he had and he Tried earth baths on the squire in the ash spinny. The squire was set there regular by a valet. Only this time, Valet had forgotten Terry too late in the pub. >> I see. Do many

people know the story around these parts? There Cameron never told that story to note but me. She kept it right cuz I so like to be thinking of that fearful maid. Hey mister, you must know a powerful deal about maids. >> Billy, I think you would best stop here. I'll walk to the end. Heaven knows what you might decide to blurt out in front of the chief constable. >> Have a port. Awkward business. This any port in a storm. >> As you say, Colonel, an awkward business. I haven't been told a thing about it, only

that it is rather odd. What has happened? >> Happened? Mutair, what has happened? >> Quite so, sir. What has happened? Very nicely put. >> Man's an ass. It might be useful as a damn dictaphhone doesn't know any speed in the police, though. For that matter, nothing much has happened. Simply that Malbury's fuss over it. I must have us bring down a fella from London. >> Well, sir, there is a boy missing. >> Rubbish. Halfwitted boy. Nothing more. Would that be Hannah Hubin's boy? >> Well, I'm blessed. Not a friend of Malbury by any chance. He

has some deed ones. >> I don't know. Malbury, >> sir. Malbury, farmer, Lord left tenant. Big man down here. Old friend too. Wouldn't have asked him to send you down else. I think I'll take you over to lunchon with him. You seem perfectly presentable. >> Thank you very much. Mutlo, you can go away. No further use for you. >> Very well, Colonel. >> No, no, stop. Give Mr. Applebee your appreciation of the situation. Avoid prolixity, incoherence, and irrelevant detail. >> Very good, sir. It's an affair of statues like >> of statues >> and a wax

work. >> A wax work? Dictapone have it catching. >> And seems to me all to have come of Sir Malburries getting a litter of pigs. Bluster old spots. >> Ah, from Brettingham Skir at Linger, no doubt. >> Have another glass of port. >> Thank you. Well, Sir Malbury got this litter of pigs a good time back. And one of the pigs was a male pig. >> Male means a bore. >> Thank you, sir. That would be the technical word, no doubt. Well, one morning, Sir Malbury goes over to have a word with it and finds

that It's been spirited away overnight. Only something else has been left in its place. A great bore in marble or some such stuff that must have weighed pretty well a ton. Did you ever hear of such a crazy thing? >> Lot of nonsense, but it worries him, it seems. Keeping it as quiet as possible, but as to have you sent down here. Glad to know how you explain it. I am quite unable to explain it, I'm afraid. It sounds nonsense to me, too. >> Pity, disappointing. Should have asked for an older man. Fella with more

experience, no doubt, but as wise at once. >> Very probably. >> However, presentable at least. See, come along. Possible that when you have a deco at Malbury, the truth will dawn. There it is. All two tons of it. Qu thing gave me quite a turn. I don't mind admitting it. Ghastly. No pig looks like That. >> I was wondering if it might have been stolen from your museum. It had some letters carved on the back. >> T R T R Dash B. How did you know? >> Just an idol conjecture. A >> spot of lunchon

wouldn't be a missy. Then we're going to look at that great staring wax worker and the cow. >> The cow? >> It was the cow that turned that wretched old woman from drool to me, wasn't it? Has Pike not told you? >> Ah, old Mrs. Ulstrap, of course. >> Amazing. Duced queer. You're knowing about the woman a drool and the letters on the back. Young, of course, but duced clever. It is an extremely disagreeable business that brings such extremely disagreeable people around the place. Ah, >> there was a journalist the very morning after the pig,

a most impertinent man. Fortunately, I discovered he was from The banner. >> The banner? >> It happens to be owned by my brother. So, the fellow went away. >> Extremely fortunate. >> After the hubin boy, too. After the wax work affair, a reporter came down from the blah. But as it happened, the Blair had been bought the week before by Lord Sparshot, one of my father's closest friends. >> So the Blair fellow went away, too. Uh, But tell me about the boy, Hubin. He was employed here. >> Quite recently, my husband agreed to him being

engaged to help the stable boys, but they objected to his his odd ways, and he was quartered by himself. Then one morning this this extremely disagreeable joke repeated itself. The boy was gone and there was a wax work there instead. I suppose that it would be a rather an exotic looking wax work sworthy with Suggestions of yellow altogether ferocious in expression and recalling the Orient or the inner reaches of Asia. >> Oh, precisely so. But how do you know? >> It's what we commonly find in cases of this sort. the oriental or Eurasian wax work

>> by dove. Is that so? Man has great experience, truthful at once. Everything explained in a jify, you'll see. >> I suppose, Lady Farmer, that you knew Heiho. >> Yeah, Raven's man. Yes, I know Heiho, an extremely disagreeable old person. >> He's dead. They found him last night buried in snow, >> all frozen and stiff. decidedly so. As stiff as a statue, as they say. >> No doubt he drank. >> I suppose he did. Did you ever hear an odd story about him? >> I don't often hear odd stories about other people's servants. >> Come

to think of it, there was something Odd about the old fella. But I'm dashed, if I can remember what, except that he was the only man who could handle that great horse of theirs and their ramshackle old coach. A bit hard up a dream one can't help seeing even reduced to sling the books in the library. >> Books? Do you know that was why I was rattled? Something about a book. I can't at all remember what odd. >> You mean one of Rand Raven's books? >> Oh, sure. I could I couldn't say. >> Well, if

you finish your coffee, we may as well go and look at that marble call. Mary, I must go out to Linger. I shall leave you and Inspector Applebee's good hands. I'm sure he'll come up with something. >> I think it's beginning to be possible to see a little light in all this. >> See light? Nothing but grope in the dark if you ask me. >> Ah, that's it. Just come to head. Told you I knew something about the old Fellow Heiho. No particular reason to be called Heiho at all. Father unknown and all that. But

mother was old Mrs. Grope woman they found in the well must be getting on. Mutlo will see to Applebee. He'll be round in the car. >> Very curious things taken to happening in these parts, Mr. Applebee. Very curious indeed. >> Well, yes, I suppose so. I must say that when it came to the cow and poor old Mrs. Ol, I did feel that things were Becoming a bit out of the way. >> Ah, but I'm speaking of last night, Mr. Applebee. There's tales of an oldfashioned coach floating down the dream in clear moonlight. Two people

were sitting on the roof of it. A man and a woman. >> Yeah, me. >> They were pretty well undressed. >> What? >> And then there's that lad, Billy Boydwell. Seems that he's been saying That last night you >> I want to find Gregory Gr. Where is he likely to be? >> The engine driver. If he's on time, he'll just about be drawing to sneak. But he may well be on his way to linger. Unless, of course, he's running really late, in which case he'll still be at Snar. >> Find him. >> Find him, Mr.

Applebee. >> There's a road within sight of the Railway line, I suppose. Cruise along it, Inspector, until you spot Gregory Gro. He may take us a little way in our investigations, which is probably more than the vulgar gossip you have been listening to will do. >> No offense, Mr. Applebee, I hope. It's simply that something very queer has happened over at your friend's place at Dream. A regular sensation the thing is likely to cause. There's half a dozen reporters about the place already. >> You think there's the makings of a sensation in the Hei Ho

affair? Has his body been confidently examined? >> Well, there was our local police surgeon this morning. Ah, >> but Mr. Raven, it seems, made a bit of a fuss, having some bigwig over later. >> Very wise. Your friend Billy Bidewell is of the opinion that this old man Heiho was simply put out of the way by the Raven family, acting in concert. The sufficient reason being that they Thought he was a nuisance and that Billy was now capable of managing spot. >> Well, I'm blessed. Of course, I barely heard the details since I saw you

last. It seems alltogether mysterious. Not that one possibility hasn't occurred to me. >> What's that? >> That this matter of the old man Heiho's death might be connected in some way with these queer doings at Tiffen Place. A very ingenious fancy. Does great Credit, if I may say so, to your agility of mind, but a bit far-fetched all the same. >> Oh, that's grope. He's whistling at old Amos Sturk's goats. He's not going to sneak from linger. He's going from linger to sneak. He's forgotten Murket's milk, if you ask me. Now he's coming back for

it. >> Well, we'll stop him. Go up. STOP. STOP. STOP. >> OH, the idiot thinks WE'RE WAVING TO HIM. STOP. STOP. >> That's William the fireman. >> I don't care who it is. Stop it. >> Right. Stop. He's going about time too. Jump in whichever gently coming a bit more ste. >> Which way would you be wanting to go, sir? >> Well, that's most accommodating of you, but I don't really wish to go either Way. As a matter of fact, what I want is a word with you about your grandmother. If you could spare the

time, that is to say. Well, we're running nicely to time. And it's wonderful the head of steam William can get up if we're a bit late. So, go right ahead. Signals up on grandmother, sir. Right down the line. >> Do you remember your grandfather? >> Oh, that I do. It was grandfather that started me off. >> Started you off? >> Gave me the Wonder Book of Trains. After that, I never looked back. >> And your grandfather was he a great reader? >> Oh, he was that. Always had his nose in a book. Oh, Mr. Ravens

in particular. Ran, >> that's the man. >> And and and and your grandmother? >> Oh, no, servant. She weren't given to book learning. Oh, she'd quite enough to keep her occupied. >> Oh, she'd known a thing or two before she met grandpa. And not just any rag tag and bobtail either. She were known to best of the gentry. >> A she, sir. >> And even after she married my grandpa, there was no knowing what she'd be up to. Off and away for days on end, she were. But that didn't worry my old grandpa. He'd sit

by the fire with his book and never turn a hair. And even when everyone reckoned she ought to be Turning a mind to higher things, she was off every night to Berdo's dingle. >> Bo's dingle. >> The lover's lane here. >> She'd hide herself in the bushes with a bottle of chin and get a regular eye full of a carrying song on. They reckon that was how she met her end. >> How do you mean? >> Well, think of Maggie Tro and Greek John Vet. You see the boy from the stud farm. Ade rabbits. They

were every night. >> Do we really? >> And old Grammar just couldn't take her eyes off them. Well, a great storm comes up and she gets soaked to the skin. Or so they say. And what with the chin and and the rain and her losing her way and the fact that someone had left off the cover to the well. And do you know when they fetched her out the well, she still had that bottle of gin in her hand. They couldn't rest it from her. Yeah. Rigger Mortis. Uh, Tell me, did you ever have any

dealings with an old fellow called Heiho? >> Oh, I know. Surely old bastard. >> Bastard? Bastard? Old bastard? >> Well, I don't know as to that. >> He is dead, as a matter of fact. Somebody buried him in a snow drift last night. Set, so to speak. >> Set. More snow coming. William and me are like to have a snow plow out come Wednesday. Come and see us if you're Anywhere near the line. Yes, I'll make a point of it. But this Heiho >> Oh, shameless old brute. My old grandma used to keep an eye

out pretty especially when you were living on that wench over before the married other fella. Heyo and his Anna was a regular scandal about these parts, so I've been told. >> Hannah? Do you mean the woman who's now Hannah Hubin? >> That's right. And didn't you say Something about bastards? Well, there you are. Hannah Hubin's boy that is is this dirty old Hiho's son. And now if it's all the same with you, sir, we'd best be getting on. Stoke up with you. >> Well, thank you. You've been a great help. DON'T FORGET TO COME AND

SEE THE snow plow on Wednesday. >> Where now? >> I think it's time we had a word with Hannah Hubin and if possible take in old Mrs. Ols, >> the woman who milked the marbled cow. Well, what do you make of it all? >> Very much what I was beginning to make of it before. It's all starting to tie up, and it all seems to lead back to your friends at Dream Manor. >> My friends? At midday yesterday, I didn't as much know that any of these ravens existed. >> But Billy Bidewell's >> Oh, bother

Billy Bidewell for a great Gossiping booby. If I were in your shoes, inspector, instead of lending an ear to local gossip, I'd be more worried about troubles on my own doorstep. >> How do you mean? I mean, the little matter of Hannah Hubin's boy. Do you realize that this boy, a helpless idiot boy, disappeared quite a while ago, and that you've done virtually nothing about it? It's very bad, Inspector. Very bad. Colonel Pike may protect you to some extent, but I fear the Home Secretary Will take a serious view of it. Let us hope that

Hannah Hubin's boy is alive after all. I am sorry. You must forgive my tension as my nerves are very bad. I seem to be in the midst of a series of jokes. I get off a train last night at a station incidentally called Applebee's End and immediately stepped into a freakish universe in which such a coincidence will most assuredly not pass unexploited. But what we've got to sort out, Inspector, is what all this nonsense really adds up to and which fragments we should be giving our attention to. >> I don't see what you're getting at.

Suppose your criminal wants to do something uncommonly odd and not be found out. The difficulty is clear. Oddity almost automatically betrays itself. The needle gleams in the haystack and can't possibly be missed. >> Talking of haystacks. >> So what you do is to stuff the haystack full of needles. You see oddity wherever the perplexed investigator turns. And just one of these queer happenings maybe makes sense. >> Talking of hay stacks, Mr. Applebee, what if it all revolves around this Applebee's end business? Figure it that someone wanted to get you down to this district, Mr. Applebee,

and do something uncommonly odd. This person creates a whole bunch of queer doings and you're Brought down by the yard on the strength of them. Then suppose that something equally queer happens to you, like Sir Malbury's pig or Hannah Hobin's boy. You follow? >> I follow. >> Billy Bidewell says, >> "Oh, >> that some of those ravens are uncommonly interested in you. You're sure you have no connection with any of them before? Suppose that some previous case of yours Had resulted in bringing a friend or relation of theirs to the gallows, and vengeance had been

sworn." >> Good heavens, you speak with the voice of old Ranov Raven himself. This is just, I imagine, how his yarn spinning mind works. >> Oh, that's just it. Something in the blood, you might say. Take this Miss Judith for instance. >> I haven't had the opportunity for much conversation with Miss Raven, but I do Not think it would misrepresent the situation to say that she and I are engaged. >> Engaged? >> That's how I see the matter. >> You know, it is a confusing affair. At times, I almost think you're concerned to keep it.

So, >> my dear fellow, one gets these fancies after a long day. >> I suppose that's it. Well, here's the next needle in the Haststack. Old Mrs. Ol. >> Ah, of the marble cow. >> Note the clerical hat in the porch, inspector. Mrs. Ulstrop is doubtless in process of receiving religious advice. >> Kettle's just on the boil. Ready to come in. Come in. The door is open. Smith is my name. And this is Hodgej. my cat. I was just about to butter the buns. >> Uh, perhaps I should explain. >> At a guess, I should

say that you or a Couple of policemen come to inquire into a theft of poultry. >> You are quite right about our calling. Uh, this is Inspector Mutlo of the Yatter Police. My name is Applebee and I am a detective inspector from Scotland Yard. >> Can you butter Scons? >> Well, I capital both halves if you please and don't stick them together again. Mrs. I'll stop is naturally something of a connoisseur in butter. Mr. Mupto, I will trouble you to put that plum cake on a plate. The plate with the cow. The sacred animal is,

as you can observe, everywhere in evidence, milkers on the mantlepiece, two china cows from the old dair box's bottom. The iographs are after the matter of keep. >> Uh, can you tell me if all this is a recent development with Mrs. Olstro? >> Oh, damn. No, it is innate, Mr. Applebear. Nor virtually so. As the um Roman twins were suckled by a shewolf, I Have sometimes supposed that Mrs. Olstro must have been suckled by a fusion or a jersey. And ever since girlhood, she has been celebrated in this part of the countryside for her skill

in vacance. >> I gather she has been a milkmaid. >> Captain, but stay. I think I hear Mrs. I'll start coming from her room. Inspector Mutlo, be so kind as to open the door. >> All right, >> excellent. Come along, my good soul. Admirably buttered scon and not at all a bad plum cake. Coop admirable. A cup of tea, >> what might be termed a vacasillating nature. >> I understood that the disorder we are witnessing had its origin quite recently, and a distressing experience to which Mrs. Alstrop was subjected to Tip in place. But it

appears from what you say and from the decorations and embellishments of the house. >> Quite so. Quite so. Mrs. Alstrop's misfortune. For so I suppose we must regard it has been much exacerbated since her return from Tiffen Place. She hadn't been there a week before she was back here with some tale about a a cow that had been turned to marble in the night. That's true. True. Oh dear. Could it be some Prank of the stable lads? But no. To me at least, it suggests a somewhat more sophisticated mind. >> There have been other odd

happenings. Did you hear about Hannah Hubin's boy? >> Didn't like his work at Tiffen Place and left the district. That's what I was told. >> Hannah Hubin's boy did not leave the district. He was changed into a wax work. >> A wax work? It probably came from Dream Manor. That's where they have poor old Bishop Adulus collection. And oh dear me, how a life of pastoral care dolls once wits. The marble cow is douless from dream too and will be one of Theodor Raven's amiiable ineptitudes. The plot thickens, Mr. Applebee, or shall we say solidifies.

You seem pretty quick at the bearings of all this, sir. Quite on the spot, you might say. >> Oh, thank you, Inspector. Thank you. my chance to know the ravens quite well. I must have been one of the first to hear the strange news of the man Heiho this morning. And I fear that his fate tax onto other untoward matters a dream. A strange place. I never knew the old squire who died long before my present incumbency here. But the whole affair does remind me of one of his stories. >> You mean one specific story?

No, no, no more of a stray thought. I have no clear Memory of one of his stories as distinct from another. I was thinking of the commonplace melodrama which is the basis of most of his novels. Lost airs and missing wills and clandestine marriages, Mr. Applebe, and that sort of thing. >> It's getting dark. Shouldn't we light the lamps? >> Oh, no. No, inspector. It's soothing to sit in the flickering firelight. I am staying with the Ravens simply because I made their acquaintance quite Fertuitously last night. I suppose you know them fairly well. >> Everard

Raven and Miss Loretta, who I believe is only a distant relation, are among the most regular of my congregation. As to the others, >> who's been eating my cake? Who's done it? Who's been and pinched my cake? >> It's gone. All right. Are you sure she didn't eat it herself? >> Quite sure she left a bit on that plate There. >> It's got so dark. Perhaps it's fallen onto the floor. >> I'll light the lamp. >> Well, look, better bring the lamp over here and look for it. Mrs. Ol seems quite upset. >> Oh, nothing

at all. Must have been mice. >> Nonsense. Mice can't make a way with a sizable piece of plum cake. Well, >> at any rate, it's gone. >> Where's Mr. Smith? Well, >> I'm blessed. >> I thought he was a queer customer. Who would have thought he'd have made off with a piece of plum cake? >> My dear man, it was his own cake, >> mister. And not for the first time. Got away with a capital selection of exubier, too. >> Selection of what? >> We are in the presence of sorcery. >> Sorcery of all the

damn nonsense. >> Do not swear, sir. Sorcery, Mr. Applebee. It is not, of course, so common as witchcraft proper, but it does turn up from time to time. >> What exactly do you have in mind? >> I saw her hand come into the door, and then she snatched the cake. Of course, she must have been watching and waiting, so she knew who had been eating it. The fragment of cake would, of course, according to the laws of sorcery, bring Mrs. Alstra within the malign power of The sorcerer's art. >> You speak of all this, sir,

in a somewhat equivocal way. Do I understand you to believe in the theory of sorcery? >> My dear, Mr. Applebee, as to whether sorcery is effective, we don't know, and it would be pointless to inquire. By the way, are you fond of beagling? >> Beagling? I've been out with beagles from time to time. Ah, >> it occurred to me to wonder whether you Were familiar with the habits of hairs. And what would you be thinking of that old parson, Mr. Anthony? Bit touched if you ask me. Sorcery indeed. I agree with you about sorcery. But

as for Mr. Smith, I would describe him as intelligent, learned, and impulsive, and possibly as being wise as well. He was curiously evasive about Ronald's stories. It was as if he'd started something and suddenly thought better of it. Did you ever read any of his books, Inspector? >> Yes. Mother had some books of his, and I remember reading a story or two sometimes on Sundays when it was wet. >> Did you ever read Paxton's Destined Hour? >> No. >> Or The Coach of Cackers? >> Can't say I did, but I remember reading one called The

Medusa's Head. >> Called what? >> The Medusa's head. I don't know why. It Was about a family portrait that seemed to have the power of paralyzing any living creature that looked at it. First, it was the owner's canaries, which had been hung in a window in the picture gallery. Then, it was his dog. It was found staring at the picture, cold and stiff as a statue. Then, the owner's wife was found there, staring at the thing, and as you might say, turned to stone. >> I see. And would you say that it was Interesting? >>

Interesting. Why would it be interesting? Just a lot of rubbish in a book. Well, here we are. Who bins? >> I've come about the live in my take and your ugly mother. >> Yes, you is it might too soon. >> What's going on? >> Come in and TURN THE PIG MAN OUT. >> What big man? What are you talking about? >> THE BIG MAN'S GIRL. THEY'D BE TRYING TO STEAL MY PIG. TURN THEM OUT. COME ON. THEY'RE OUT IN THE YARD. >> See this order? You got the law on you and you know it. Give

it UP OR PAY THE MONEY NOW. I'll have you before the sessions. I'LL HAVE YOU JAIL. >> THEN I'LL TAKE THEM BACK FOR MYSELF. >> NO. NO. >> NO. Then let's have a look at that order. Breham. >> It's all done according to the law of All the mages. >> And where's the pig? >> Oh no. There, there he is in THE STORY. YEAH, I GOT HIM. >> WELL, there's no doubt about it, Hubin. You'll have to give him up. >> He's been before the magistrate. He's got his order. >> What exactly is the difficulty,

Mr. Skull? >> The time payment, sir. They failed in their time payments on one of my pegs. >> You mean to say you sell Gluster Spots on the installment plan? >> Wow, they're mostly for selling out right to the chantry. They suit you very nicely, sir, if I may say so. Hey, Ben's bit off more than they could chew when they paid the deposit on one of them. But now I'm going TO TAKE MY PICK. >> ONE MOMENT, MRS. GIRL. I'm interested in what you say, and I believe a guster old spot would suit me

very well. I imagine this will cover some sum owing to you. >> Thank you, sir. Thank you kindly. I wish you joy of the pig, sir. I be taking my leave then. >> We're well rid of that skull. I didn't at all care for the man. And now let's look at the creature we've rescued from him. >> Peace, woman. THERE'S NOTHING BUT GETTING OUT. COME ON OUT. COME OUT ON IT AND SHOW this in. >> He was here all the time. I'll learn you. You beasty little brat pretending To be chased to a wax. >>

Where's the pagan? Where's Skull's pagan? I eaten breakfast, dinner, supper. Breakfast, dinner, supper. >> Well, well, how did all this happen? Come on. I assure you, you have nothing to fear. >> Oh, we were frightened. >> Frighted? What frightened you? >> Death thrown in. >> Something has happened at Tiffin Place. They will take the boy again. Hide him. A friend. And what does the boy say? What did you make of it? >> Mesch, >> I'm sure you weren't far wrong. >> And who do you think this message came from? >> Fairy >> for you, cheeky

little imp. >> Well, Mrs. Hubin, I think you can let the boy sleep in his bed again. >> Whatever happened at Tiffen Place had Nothing to do with him, so nobody's going to take him. >> Tomorrow, by the way, it's possible you'll have quite a number of visitors. >> Visitors? >> Several of them. to visitors. >> Very pleasantly spoken gentlemen who will want to have a lot of talk. >> Well, talk away and particularly the boy, but charge them. >> Well, now we must be going. >> Well, I I I see the on their way,

sir. >> That boy, Mr. Hubin, are you his father? >> Be I the one that got half witness. >> That's what I'm asking. Mr. Did he ever see a saw? >> Yeah, me. Yes. >> Would he ask which tooth cut board? >> That'll be Gregory Gro. >> No doubt dreaming of the Berlin Constantinople Express. >> I just can't make it out at all. It ought to come together. >> Of course it ought. only there's rather a lot to fit in. And you're certain that we're not just investigating a series of practical jokes? >> I am.

We're investigating murder and perhaps attempted murder as well. >> But you don't murder somebody by persuading him to hide in a pigsty. >> There's that. Heiiho >> and old Mrs. Grope. I suppose you'll agree that you do murder somebody if you persuade her to fall down a well. >> But hither too. Old Mrs. Grope's falling down the well never aroused the slightest suspicion of thou blame. >> I agree. But the point is that Mrs. Grope was Heiho's mother. You can't get away with Heiho. >> I shouldn't at all want to attempt anything so disagreeable. But

if you're going to hot foot after homicide, you may find Heiho a broken reed. What do you think the doctors will say he died of? >> Exposure? >> Precisely. >> And how do you know he didn't die of exposure before he was buried in that grotesque way? >> It would still be a crime. >> That's very true. A judge would take an uncommonly dark view of it. But how would Ran Raven regard it? That is the question. >> Rand Raven? I don't understand this Raven business At all. Seems plum crazy to me. How should he

come in? >> Because everything that's been happening, and more has been happening than you've heard of yet, is related either closely or vaguely to something or other in Ran Raven's books. It's a correspondence so odd that it's hard to recognize. For instance, you yourself have told me the story of some yarn of Ran you once read as a boy. while quite failing to see that it bears a Pointby-oint resemblance to all this turning to stone business at Tiffen Place. >> Good lord, why was Sam Malgary, a notably courageous man, rattled or scared by those idiotic

incidents? Because buried somewhere in his mind, he had this yarn of ranoffs. And if the analogy from that yarn, the Medusa's head, continued, it would be his wife, Lady Farmer, who would be overtaken by some uncanny fate at the end. Boom. But All this talk of sorcery >> and now Hey, again, there is a correspondence with a Ranoff Raven story or something like, but it's not as simple as that. You see, Ran Raven stories sometimes had the appearance of coming true. Now, hey, >> wait a minute. >> Was he proud of this? Did he make

a business of it? >> Yes, or at least I fancy so. So he would like this notion of a yarn Coming true. It would amuse him to think of such a thing happening long after he was dead. And what is happening? What that old clergyman said something just like a ran raven story. And it's happening to his own family. An honest Victorian story of lost heirs. Yes. By heaven's secret marriages. Ranol was married to Mrs. Grope and Heiho therefore was legitimate. Hey Ho was married to Mrs. Hubin. That's it. A perfect Raven yarn. >> Hannah

Hubin's boy is the legitimate heir of dream. >> Well, well, you mean that there is probably a Raven story that runs on those lines and that it amused Ran to plan for its coming true bang in the next generation of his family. >> Exactly. Suppose now the ravens found out that old Mrs. Grope knows the truth. Perhaps she tried her hand at blackmail whereupon she fell down the well and Then well the ravens got busy paraded out the fact that the half wit too was legitimate. So both he and Heiho had to go. They had

to go. But the boy didn't go. He stopped in a pigsty. As for Heiho, he went all right. But instead of having an accident, which might get two or three lines in a local rag, he dies in conditions so fantastic that tomorrow morning every national paper will very likely be splashing them. And the last thing the Ravens Would want is publicity that would draw attention to their father. And that is just what Heiho's death will do. Yours is as ingenious a theory as a colleague has ever presented me with. I congratulate you on it sincerely.

But it won't do. Not only are the bits not built in >> needles, Mr. Applebee. The needles put into the haststack to serve as red herrings. >> I don't think so. For the simple reason They're not red herrings, they're spotlights. And everyone leads us back to Randalf Raven and his stories. >> Well, that'll be a spotlight on us, sure enough. Let's hope we cut a decent figure in it. >> Which means finding the villain of the piece and laying him by the heels. >> We may find him, but I doubt whether we shall lay him

by the heels. Be hard to tell just what you mean by that. >> What if the villain of the peace died Last night? >> Heyi ho, how in the world could he be responsible for all this? If so, he's escaped justice. All right, >> undoubtedly, except perhaps the poetic kind. >> No, Mr. Rubble, that's another queer saying. You really think Heiho was responsible for all those freaks? >> I wouldn't mind betting that you'll be convinced of it before the night's over. Do you think you could take me back to Dream? >> Half past 7. You'll

be glad to get back to a bit of dinner and the young lady. I don't doubt. >> Decidedly. >> Would you have any idea when you would be getting married? >> I haven't discussed the point, but if required to guess, I should say Thursday or Friday. >> Is that so? No. Only goes to show. >> Good lord. What's that? >> What's what? >> Well, the glow in the sky, man. It looks as if Dream is on fire. >> Good heavens, I believe you're right. Here's the avenue. Huh? Looks as if we're not the only people

who are in a hurry to get to Dream. >> And there's another one right behind us. Better let him buy, I think. >> Oh, what's it all in aid of? >> Well, whatever it is, it's not a fire. >> Whole place is floodless. There are cars all over the lawn, tents, caravans, film crews. What's going on? a sensation. That is what is going on. It's not re that's being set on fire. It's the temper. >> Who's his Who's his grandmother? >> It seems that we are virtually under siege. The whole place is overrun by journalists.

Billy Bwell is drunk. Peggy Pitchers has been given 18 pairs of silk stockings. And Mark knocked down a man Who got into Judith's studio with a camera. >> Good lord. >> And just look at the evening papers. Body in snow. Folklorist tells. >> What folkloris? >> You mean Billy Bidewell? Listen. The victim once chosen said Mr. Bidewell. It was only a question of waiting for a heavy fall of snow. Then they would set and just listen to this after dream voyages grizzly end. Young sculptress' Ordeal. Sculpturous that you please Judith. >> Good lord. Haystack refugees

find hi ho rigid. >> Yes. I should have told you that Judith has announced that she is going to be married to you on Wednesday. Everard approves, but Clarissa says that we must insist on the Archbishop of Canterbury's imposing a decent delay. I congratulate you most heartily and I hope that you'll be very happy. If that is, you can survive headlines like half naked girl finds frozen coachman. Oh, can't be done about all this. >> I'm afraid not. You see, this is a mere mild beginning. Just what rather conservative local journalists were able to get

off this morning. The people camped outside now are the experts, and in the morning papers, you'll see them really begin to exploit the business. It will be a firstass sensation. My dear fellow, my dear John, I'm extremely glad to see you back. This is a very sudden decision of Judith, but I assure you we're all very pleased that Clarissa may take a little humoring. I think I ought to say. And here's Mark, who no doubt find Judith for you. Mark, my dear, here's your brother-in-law, waiting for you to say the right thing. I knew this

was going to happen. The way she looked at him in that railway carriage. >> Yes, I felt rather like an unhuned block of soap stone. Still let them marry by all means. He seems quite a decent chap. >> Yes. Quiet. Quiet. But now, Mark, if you would be so good as to point John in the direction of Judith Studio. >> Well, >> well, >> Applebee's End. I think we might begin with that. Is there a story of Ranoffs called Applebees End? >> Yes. The place had that name before There was a railway station, and I

suppose it caught his eye. >> I see. And is it about a man who is invited to stay at a strange house with sinister consequences? >> Well, he doesn't get married, but sinister is the word. Spooky doings in long, gusty corridors with the carpets rising on the floors and the ivy tapping on the window panes and madness ending all. >> You're not mildly apprehensive. You Don't mind being tied for life to a madman? >> I'm not apprehensive. >> Perhaps you should be. You remember you told me that you have a compact with Mark not to

tell each other fibs. Is that going to apply to me? >> Yes. >> Then don't you think you ought to tell me? >> I'm marrying you for your wits partly. I expect to see you work it out for Yourself. And I don't need to tell you either fibs or otherwise. I can just keep mom. But can you keep mom for instance about last night? >> The hi-ho business. Well, I did find it rather macob >> and disconcerting in that it didn't hitch onto any Randolph story. >> Quite. >> I've discovered it hitches onto what might

well be a Randolph story. Only he doesn't seem to have written it. Billy B. >> Ran did write it. Only it was never published. Everard told me this morning. >> Well, what do you make of the whole business? It's the work of an artist and therefore quite probably of somebody with raven blood perhaps of somebody interested in dreams because brought up at a place called dream. For dreams you know use whatever is lying about a man called Applebee in a place called Applebee's End. There's pure dream material in that and it's not been missed. Only

of course this is a thoroughly practical and businesslike dream or was meant to be. If I were marrying you for your wits, it looks as if I should be getting a bargain. >> Heiiho dies and his body is found lying in some laying. The dream artificer promptly exploits the fact and there he overreaches himself because in England you can't do that with a body, however Dead, and get away with it. >> Yes, >> I am sorry to disturb you, Miss Judith, but Mr. Everard has asked me to tell you there will be guests for dinner.

>> Guests? >> They arrived without warning, Miss Judith. Mr. Everard was quite put out. >> Well, who are they? >> Mr. Scott, >> Ralph Raven's publisher >> and Mr. Little, >> a news editor of the Blair. Well, well, and all for Hammer Hubin's boy. >> And there's a young constable downstairs, Mr. Applebee. He uh asked me to give you this. Someone has put the pins to Woolworth. Woolworth >> Sturk's prize bull. I understand that a clay model of the animal was found in his straw stuck with pin. >> This is serious and I think the

matter should be communicated in the Discreetest possible manner to the gentleman of the press outside. Will you arrange that rainbird? >> Certainly, sir. witchcraft. But it just doesn't fit in or make sense. It's got nothing to do with us. And why should you be so keen to go? >> I'll let you puzzle out that one. We have two jobs ahead of us this evening. >> Two? I should have thought one was enough. >> Two? Getting to the heart of the mystery and getting away again. Come on, we'd better go into dinner. The unfortunate man who

died last night. >> Hey home. Uh, >> just so what manner of man was he? >> Far from reliable. I could not conscientiously describe him as a valued servant. >> His new situation is scarcely likely to be such that he will require a testimonial. >> Of course, he was excellent with Spot, Mr. Scott, and with the two horses we had before, Scott. Oh, I I mean Spot. And with the four horses we had before the two horses we had before. Um, Ever. I think it might be a good idea to keep four horses again. One

would then have no hesitation in calling out the carriage. >> None. Whatever. >> And Bwell might be put in livery. >> Bwell is that the fat young man who is Lying asleep in the stables. >> The day has proved over exciting for him, Mr. Little. >> And he's the one who has some knowledge of a piece of folklore about a head which recalls the circumstances of Heihjo's death. >> Well, yes. Uh it does appear. You have a Randolph Raven story turning on the same circumstance preserved in manuscript. >> That is so but just how >>

there may be something in this a little. Don't you agree that is all absorbingly interesting. >> Interesting to you and me? Yes. I don't mind saying that I shall be uncommonly intrigued to hear the explanation of this uh echoing of the raven stories. But whether we could put it across in the Blair, well, that's another matter. >> Put it across? Really, my dear little, I quite failed to understand you. Nothing would dismay us more than some horrible form of publicity. >> Oh, it would be most repugnant to us. >> Entirely contrary to our family tradition.

>> We should never hold our heads up again. >> How come, come? You must all please take a rational view of the affair. The public is bound to be interested. >> I'm not so sure of that. Something very much simpler would have alltogether more appeal. That's the opinion of those fellas camped on the lawn outside. It's got them guessing. So much so that They've agreed to hold everything till tomorrow. >> Something simpler, did you say, Mr. Little? Have you heard of the sorcery here? It seems to have nothing to do with our affairs here at

Dream, but you might be interested in it all the same. >> Yes, I I I think that as we are squarely faced with our own affairs, we should stick to them. >> I quite agree. If Mr. Applebee would Mr. up. >> Less than an hour ago, I had a message from the local constabularary about an attempt to injure a prize bull by black magic. And then there's old Mrs. Alter. >> To get back to Ran Raven, >> a bullhel in a bull. Yes, that's an uncommonly interesting thing. >> Interesting. It's quite stupid if you ask

me. And leads nowhere. Now, hey, >> very definitely leads somewhere, but in just what direction? I'm not sure that It wouldn't be as well to leave him alone until we find out. Uh >> John, uh John, pray let Rainbird give you a little more pork. >> A big pardon, sir. Big pardon, Mom. >> Well, Rainbird, what is it? What's the matter? >> It was the pork, Mom. It was Mr. Everard's naming the pork that made me feel I better mention it. >> Mention it, Raybird? What in the world you talking about? >> The witches, sir.

They've been seen not an hour ago. >> The witches. What witches? Rainbird in heaven's name. >> Why? Mom, them as was trying to sorcerize old Mrs. Holstrip and put the pins to Woolworth. >> All nonsense, my good fellow. These are simply old wives tales that have been going around the district. >> Beg pardon, sir, but Inspector Mutlo says that >> Inspector Mutlo is he here again? >> Oh, yes, sir. Waiting in the scriptorum, sir. When Inspector Matlo says, sir, that the Lord left tenant was most infected. >> The Lord left tenant >> of the county,

sir. He had arranged for a car to meet him at the junction, it appears, at linger, that is, and seemingly it broke down in the snow, whereupon, sir, his lordship was pleased to step into the waiting room, and there The witches was, a whole Sabbath of them. A >> Sabbath? Well, sir, at least three. There they was, sir, in Bettingham Skull's waiting room. >> And what, Rainbird, were the witches doing in so disagreeable a retreat? >> If you please, Miss Judith, they were killing swine. >> I suppose, Rainbird, that the witches were provided with a

cauldron. >> I understand that they had something of The sorts. >> And were they singing something like double double? >> Well, those are the very words, sir. the very words. Inspector Matlo says his lordship noted them very particular. But no sooner had his lordship entered the waiting room than the witches ran out shrieking and disappeared and there was nothing left but the carcass of one of Skir's blaster old spots. Do you mean to say that a nobleman of the county is Actually prepared to swear that he has had an interview with witches? What's all that

noise? >> That would be the gentleman of the press outside, sir. They're all driving off to linger. >> Where's my hat? Find my coat. There hasn't been a story like this. >> My dear fellow, prempose yourself. Have another glass of clarity. >> Wait for the pause >> and the brandy. >> Keep her out. Oh, keep her out. Oh, she followed me right to the spinning. >> William, it is William, isn't it? Gregory Grope's assistant. >> Yes, sir. >> Whatever is the meaning of this and what has been following you? >> Oh, please, sir. It was

the It was the witch, sir. Followed me right up the kitchen door. She did. A waving and a screeching like anything. Oh, I thought I was a sure gunner. >> I see. And I suppose she had her broomstick. >> Oh, yes, sir. Her hat and and broomsticks, sir. And she carried a great big brindle cat. Oh, that'd be how I knew she was a witch. >> Witches? Your whole countryside teaming with them, stealing cake, bewitching wolves, killing pigs, pursuing country boys. My heavens is the greatest thing in a decade. Tell them to hold the pig.

>> But what about my tombstone? >> Sir father's father will come. >> Judith blind man. >> HEY HO, THE HOLLERING. >> COME BACK. COME BACK. We didn't TELL YOU THE BEST ONE OF ALL. THAT COULD be that. >> A frost. An absolute frost. Scott Dart will do all he can, but I have no doubt as to the outcome. An absolute frost. >> A frost, Evanard. As a lexographer, you ought to speak more accurately. What you mean is a close shave. But I think there's a visitor coming. I Wonder will he make up for Little's departure?

>> It's the recctor and carrying a cat. No. >> Good evening. >> Is the hour too unseasonable for a visit? >> No, not at all, my dear Smith. Not at all. We're all delighted to see you at any time. You're on your way home from your pastoral cares. >> Precisely so. My evening activities could scarcely be better put. Rainbird, Be so good as to take my Glaston bag. And I wonder if >> bless my soul, what ails the boy. >> Brindle cat. >> William has just seen a witch, and as it happens, she appears to

have had a cat much like Hodge. >> Oh, dear me. William, do you think this was the witch's cat? >> Oh, no, Mr. Smith. >> Well, well, there you are, Rainbird. And I wonder if I might ask Peggy Pitches to give Hajj a saucer of milk. >> Of course, my dear fellow. Of course. Let us all retire to the scriptorum. Rainbird can bring us coffee. We may make quite a snug evening of it. >> In conversation with Inspector Mutlo. >> Oh, dear me. I'd quite forgotten him. But John, I'm sure will be able to manage

all that. >> Yes, I think it will be wise to leave it to me and to Mr. Smith. >> Smith? Well, I can hardly see that. >> We must all regard ourselves as hairs, >> little hunted hairs. And Mutlo is a whole pack of beagles in full cry. And Mr. Smith here and his two sons, if I'm not mistaken, are fellow hairs who have been obliging enough to cross the center. >> But the situation is critical still. Now, come along, Mllo. It was good of you to come over again, but I really don't know that

you Ought to have spared the time. This is a bad business that has started up around you. >> It certainly is. When once country folk get imagining things about witches. >> Quite so. And the trouble is you can never be quite sure that there isn't something in it. Anyway, you'll certainly be preoccupied with it all. So, it's a good thing that the tip in place and Heiho affairs have been cleared up. >> Cleared up? I haven't heard of that now, Mr. Apple. Well, virtually cleared up. I hope you won't go away quite yet, for we

really need your help in talking the matter out. >> And you must have a brandy. Uh, Robert, bring a Rama >> and a cigar. >> Don't hesitate to pick and choose. >> Sure. Mr. Mutlo, >> so intelligent a rainbow to secure a supply of coffee. Oh, most reliable man. I have to explain to you all that this afternoon, Inspector Mutlo made a most penetrating analysis of the case. As a result of which we have been able to draw the whole affair together. >> I am sure none of you will want us to mince matters. It

will be best that we have the whole truth at once. >> I really think that the presence of the family solicits >> No, not at all. Let us have the whole truth at once by all means. >> Very well. The truth is this. Inspector Mutlo found very good reason for the darkest suspicions against this whole family. The death of old Mrs. Grope followed by that of Heiho as also by some obscure plot against the unfortunate youth known as Hannah Hubin's boy. >> Old Mrs. Grope, >> the woman who is thought to have fallen down a

well. >> Ah, yes, sir. certain circumstances, Family circumstances, in which uh at the moment I need not enter made it advantageous to you, Everard, and to the family in general, that first this old Mrs. Grove, and then Heiho, and then the boy should be well, liquidated. >> Good heavens, >> liquidated. This is very serious, >> right? So, it appeared that the two crimes and one obscure attempt at a crime might be charged against you all. But then another possibility struck the Inspector. A little more brandy. >> Oh, thank you. Yeah. >> Mlo saw that it

was more probably indeed almost certainly the old man Heiho himself who was at the center of the whole thing. >> Did I? >> Well, I I suppose I did. >> And that the burying of Heiho in the snow was was poetic justice. >> Poetic justice. Boiling oil would have been poetic justice for that old wretch. >> Oh, really? Clary, sir, have a cigar. I'm I mean, pray take another cup of coffee. >> For when we reviewed the whole run of the case, we found in some fantastic way everything led back to Randolph Raven and his

books. It was almost as if someone was playing a spotlight on them. Now, if the family circumstances, to which I have alluded, were as we believed, it would be utterly against your interest as a family to have any Attention drawn to Ranol. On the contrary, it would be in your interest to keep Runoff well buried. With Heiho, however, just the reverse held. It was to his advantage, or so he suspected, that the widest notoriety should be given to Ran in his biography, and with the cunning of a half-educated, half scenile, but extremely formidable old man,

he took the extraordinary way to it that he did. Queer things began to happen, which would be bound soon to Unearth the whole Randolph Raven legend. The newspapers will be sure to take it up and from right back in the last century his whole early history would be laid bare. I think I have more or less done justice, Mutller, to this series of deductions by which you have solved this case. >> Oh, certainly. I I think you put it very well. Very well indeed, Applebee. >> And so there is the truth of the whole Matter.

And fortunately, there is now really no criminal case to pursue. I say fortunately because this extraordinary and very serious affair of witchcraft is likely to occupy all the inspector's energies for some time. I'm sure that you will all agree that his handling of it is likely to be such that he will gain the greatest credit. >> Oh, certainly. When Inspector Mut runs the weird Sisters to Earth, his career will most assuredly be made. >> Well, I I suppose I certainly do want to get onto this witchcraft and sorcery business. And uh now that everything has

been cleared up. >> Thank God for that. >> No, it hasn't. >> What about that poetic justice? What about the body in the snow? You found out that the old man was up to some devilry. You found him out, some are all of you, and you hoist him with his own. >> My dear officer, if you would only consider >> another secret, >> have some more brand. >> Mlo that is the one particular in which you went wrong. And I don't doubt that it was my fault. I got carried away with the idea of poetic

justice and overlooked the vital figure in the drama. Spot. Spot. Mr. Rattleby. >> Yes indeed. For consider the situation. Here is Heiho wandering round in the snow with a bottle of gin in one hand and spots bridal in the other. He sits down still clutching the brute. He drinks, falls into a stuper. Very presently he is dead. But still he is clutching spots bridal. And I suppose you know what a dead man's clasp can be like. The horse bolts terrified and drags, but drags the body right into a snow drift and is pulled up short.

He rears and plances in a panic, scattering Snow everywhere, obliterating his own traces. Something snaps or slips and he makes for home. And there is Heiho's body tugged with the animals full might into a snow drift. And and you really suppose that this was the manner of Heiho's end? >> What do you think, Mllo? >> Well, there's not a doubt of it. And it it shows how careful one should be about about testing one's hypothesis. I'm not sure it wasn't you yourself, Mr. Applebee, who was a bit hasty there. >> Oh, undoubtedly it was. >>

Yes. Now, what I've always said, >> dear me, what an extraordinary dinner. It's the witches. They're not a quarter for my love. Witches sounds more like uh >> Hey, it's the witches. I must go. >> Won't you stop for another brandy? I've put a few cigars in your pockets. >> Oh, dear me. The man's gone. >> Now, perhaps you understand, Everard, what I meant by a close shave. Let us hope the inspector will not have any second thoughts. >> I think the witches will occupy all his energies. I trust they will. Now, let us turn

to the real motive. Publicity for Randolph Raven and his works, or shall I say the cannibal instinct of the Ravens. Cannibal? You'd had no luck with the wax works or Theodore's marbles, and the library shelves were virtually empty. There Remained only Ranol's novels. Was it conceivable that the long since defunct reputation of Ranol could be profitably revived? He would be copyright still for a few years and there was a certain amount of unpublished material. >> Seven trunkfuls of it. >> But on their own merits, Ran's books would never rise again. It was a sensation that

was needed, something that will be written up lavishly in popular papers and create an interest in This forgotten writer that clever editors and publishers would exploit. So you started with the little affair of the coach of cackers, a mere trial run to see what you could do. You tried to cause a stir over Luke's tombstone, but his solicitor would have stopped that one. But your really determined attempt was over the Medusa head. Here was all this marble of Theodors lying about, and nobody so much as willing to make a tile out of it. And here

on the shelf was a Yarn of ran in which all sorts of creatures were mysteriously turned to stone. And so the campaign against the farmers of Tipping Place was launched. But on this occasion, you had the most wretched luck. Although you had arranged for reporters to be on the scene in no time, the farmers were strongly opposed to publicity. And as it happened, they both had a strong pull with the banner and the Blair, >> whereupon you went so far as to persuade The Hubins, who are both the shade simple, to get their boy away

from tip in place and hide him, and you replaced him with one of Adulus' wax works. But again, nothing much happened because Mutllo did very little to find out what had happened to the Hubin boy. And this was the state of affairs when I had the good fortune to meet Everard on the train. >> But it was too good an opportunity to let slip. Don't you see? There was this Newspaper on the carriage floor identifying you to all the world as Appabby of the yard. There was a station at Applebee's End and there was runoff

story. >> But what did you intend to do with me? >> Well, I Yes. I I had nothing clearly formulated in my mind. I I was improvising. But um subsequent events, my dear John, drove your possibilities quite out of my Head. >> No doubt. And it's to the subsequent events that we now come. When Judith and I were separated from the rest of you by the accident at the forge, she was left with rather a tricky problem. I was an Applebee and a Scotland Yard detective. How did I fit in? Was I spying upon the

whole plan? Or was I an innocent instrument of Everards? She chose to pump me full of ranoff mystery and was more communicative about Her family than such a well-b bred young person would naturally be. It was odd. >> I am not a well-bred young person. You might be speaking of one of Lady Farmer's beastly dogs. Judas, if your manners made an adequate impression upon this young man, that is surely one satisfactory aspect of this deplorable affair. And never forget, child, that even an artist may be a gentle woman. >> Yes, aunt. >> And now for

Heiho. The accident had given him a shock, and he abandoned Spot and wandered off with his bottle of gin in the snow. The rest of you separated to look for us, and each made your own way independently. So the next adventure was Everard's alone. And I think indeed that he kept his own counsel for the rest of the night. >> Oh dear. Oh dear Smith, you will not like this. You will not like this at all. What John says is quite correct. I came upon Heiho's body quite by chance. And suddenly there came into my

mind an old unpublished story of runups about a gentleman who used to take earth baths in his spinny. I don't know what came over me. has always been of a sanguin disposition with a genius for making the best of things. He simply made the best of poor old Heiho. >> No doubt. And now your plan was fairly launched at last. Within 12 hours, it was showing every sign of presently becoming a national sensation. Unfortunately, this ghost of Ranols that you had summoned from the grave was likely to prove a very Frankenstein. And the reason for

this lay in the family circumstances which Mutlo and I became possessed of this afternoon. >> Tell us, let us hear the worst. What can these mysterious family circumstances be? >> I can explain in very few words. I scarcely need to remind you that Ran was not among the more reputable of the Ravens. He had numerous illegitimate children. Heiho was your halfb brotherther, Everard, just as he was a sort of half uncle to Mark and Judith and a cousin to Miss Clarissa. Now, you may remember me asking if Heiho was older than the rest of you,

and you declared he was. The point of the question, you will realize at once if I ask you another. Are you really certain that Heiho was illegitimate? >> Heiiho. >> Heiho's mother became, or thought she became, a Mrs. Grope. But I'm afraid we shall find that Randolph Raven, perhaps for some eccentric delight in the possible consequences that might result long after, had contracted a previous marriage with her. And this means that Heiho was your father's only legitimate child. >> And when you remember that this same old Mrs. grope met her death in a way which

Could well be given a sinister interpretation. You will see what danger Everard was in when he was playing tricks with Heiho's body. But that's not all. >> Not all. Most unfortunately not. For just as Heiho was your father's legitimate son, so is the halfwit boy involved in your tipinplace plano's legitimate son. Or at least it seems probable that it was so. You mean that these family circumstances, as you call Them, are still purely conjectural? >> As far as I am concerned, they are. But from the very vigorous diversionary action which Mr. Smith has thought to

take this afternoon and evening, I think he probably possessed some certainty in the matter. >> Heiho and woman known as Mrs. Hubin were married at Yata some 17 years ago. Having this information together with some knowledge of the matter of Heiho's own legitimacy, I saw the extreme danger Of the position and the conclusion to which the police might very readily come. A little clouding of the issue, I thought might give us time to see where we were, hence the theft of Mrs. Ol's cake. I was surprised who distinguished my part in the affairs so readily,

but yes, it was I who set in train the little matter of the witches, with the time the assistance of Charles and Arthur. fortunately still enjoying their winter vacation. If you care to look Into the Gladston bag I entrusted to Rainbird, you'll find the witch's hat and cloak which so rattled young William. So there the matter rests. The newspapers have been successfully headed off. Very soon the Raven family affairs will be completely forgotten and can be quietly adjusted in whatever fashion is proper. >> Adjusted. If I understand these revelations are right, they mean that young

Hubin is the rightful owner of Dream. It's exactly like one of our father's romances. >> This uh Hannah Hubin's boy, what's he like, John? You've seen him. >> I should call him perfectly charming. Is he not a raven after all? Oh, >> capital. How much in this degenerate century one relishes a compliment welter? Oh, capital. The ravens, or some of them, are charming. But equally, the ravens and all of them are broke. Indeed, they're about to be turned out Into the snow. >> I should like to be let take away Theodore's genius guarding the secret

of >> We must ask the farmer to return the pig and the cow and the wax work, though explanations will be a trifle difficult. >> The other day, I had a letter asking me if I would undertake a dictionary of universal biography in 40 volumes. I better write it once and accept. I understand that all this turns upon the supposed marriages of Ranol and of the Man Heiho. >> That is so. >> Then we may desist from this nonsensical talk and go to bed. >> And pardon? >> Except Judith and uh um John, they may

remain chatting by the fire. I suggest that they consider taking the whole farm. That would be most convenient, I think. On Sundays, we will expect them to take lunchon with us. A dream. >> I must remember to tell Rainbird. Clarissa, possibly you're over tired. I suggest that >> I understand you to say, Mr. Smith, that the man Heiho had married the woman now called Mrs. Hubin some 17 years ago. >> There can be no doubt of it. >> There can be every doubt of it, sir. No legal marriage can then have taken place. >> May

I ask why, >> Mr. Smith? I fear that you may. 41 years ago tomorrow, I married the man Heiho Myself. It was true that I had reasoned to think better of it a few days later and paid him to be silent, but he died my lawful married husband. >> Ever. >> Robert Luke, you need not stare. So, was he not a raven after all? In Applebee's End by Michael Inis, dramatized by Michael Bakewell, the part of Inspector Applebee was played by John Hurt, Evraard by John Leer, Ferissa by Joyce Redmond, and Judith by Pipper Guard,

Inspector Mutlo and Heiho, Christopher Benjamin, Mr. Smith, Trevor Baxter, Colonel Pike, Jack May, Sir Malbury Farmer and Little Hugh Dixon, Rainbird, John Sharp, Luke Lewis, Stringer, Robert Anthony Nuland, Mark Richard Darington, Billy Bidewell, Christopher Douglas, Gregory Grope, David Gooderson, Hannah Hubin's boy, Steven Garlic, Brettingham Skull, and Scott John Livy. and Pauline Lets played Hannah Hubin, Mrs. Alstrop, and Lady Farmer. Technical presentation by David Greenwood, assisted by Tim Sturgeon and Paul Pearson. The play was directed by Jane Morgan. We're bruising. We're bruising.