Sherlock Holmes Short Stories - The Adventure of the Dancing Men: Part Two

Episode Date: December 23, 2024

Arriving at Riding Thorpe Manor, Holmes and Watson are devastated to learn that they’re too late. Hilton Cubitt is dead and his wife, Elsie, is gravely wounded. While local police suspect an attempted murder-suicide, Holmes's investigation reveals a more sinister truth. Through brilliant deduction and his knowledge of the dancing men cypher, Holmes identifies the real killer and sets a clever trap. But will the murderer take the bait?   A Noiser production, written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  Narrated by Hugh Bonneville  Produced by Katrina Hughes and Addison Nugent  Sound Design and Audio Editing by Thomas Pink & Anisha Deva  Compositions: Dorry Macaulay and Oliver Baines  Mix & Mastering: Liam Cameron  Series Consultant: Dan Smith    For ad-free listening and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Welcome to Sherlock Holmes Short Stories. I'm Hugh Bonneville and this is The Adventure of the Dancing Men, Part 2. Last time, a country squire named Hilton Cubitt came to Baker Street with a most unusual problem. His American wife, Elsie, had been receiving mysterious messages in the form of childish drawings. Little dancing stick figures that seemed to terrify her. Cubit caught a glimpse of the messenger, a shadowy figure skulking about the grounds at night. But when he tried to confront the man, Elsie held him back in a panic, refusing to reveal what she knew of these ominous dancing men. Holmes worked feverishly to crack the code

and discovered that the dancing men spelled out a dangerous message. Realising time was of the essence, Holmes and Watson rushed to catch the next train to Norfolk. But they've arrived too late. Tragedy has already struck. Hilton Cubitt is dead, apparently shot by Elsie in a murder-suicide attempt. Now Holmes and Watson are headed to Cubitt's estate to find answers.

Without a word, Holmes hurried to a carriage and during the long seven miles drive he never opened his mouth. Seldom have I seen him so utterly despondent. He had been uneasy during all our journey from town, and I had observed that he had turned over the morning papers with anxious attention. But now this sudden realisation of his worst fears left him in a blank melancholy. He leaned back in his seat, lost in gloomy speculation. Yet there was much around to interest us, for we were passing through as singular a countryside as any in England, where a few scattered cottages represented the population of today,

while on every hand enormous square-towered churches bristled up from the flat green landscape and told of the glory and prosperity of old East Anglia. At last, the violet rim of the German ocean appeared over the green edge of the Norfolk coast, and the driver pointed with his whip to two old brick-and-timber gables which projected from a grove of trees. That's Roidenthorpe Manor, said he.

As we drove up to the porticoed front door, I observed in front of it, beside the tennis lawn, the black toolhouse and the pedestal sundial with which we had such strange associations. A dapper little man with a quick, alert manner and a waxed moustache had just descended from a high dog-cart. He introduced himself as Inspector Martin of the Norfolk Constabulary, and he was considerably astonished when he heard the name of my companion. Why, Mr Holmes, the crime was only committed at three this morning.

How could you hear of it in London and get to the spot as soon as I?' "'I anticipated it. I came in the hope of preventing it.' "'Then you must have important evidence, of which we are ignorant, for they were said to be a most united couple.' "'I have only the evidence of the dancing men,' said Holmes. "'I will explain the matter to you later. Meanwhile, since it is too late to prevent this tragedy, I am very anxious that I should use the knowledge which I possess in order to ensure that justice be done.

Will you associate me in your investigation, or will you prefer that I should act independently? I should be proud to feel that we were acting together, Mr. Holmes, said the inspector earnestly. In that case I should be glad to hear the evidence, and to examine the premises without an instant of unnecessary delay. Inspector Martin had the good sense to allow my friend to do things in his own fashion, and contented himself with carefully noting the results. The local surgeon, an old white-haired man, had just come down from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt's room, and he reported that her injuries were serious, but not necessarily fatal.

The bullet had passed through the front of her brain, and it would probably be some time before she could regain consciousness. On the question of whether she had been shot or had shot herself, he would not venture to express any decided opinion. Certainly the bullet had been discharged at very close quarters. There was only the one pistol found in the room, two barrels of which had been emptied. Mr. Hilton Cubitt had been shot through the heart. It was equally conceivable that he had shot her and then himself, or that she had been the criminal, for the revolver lay upon the floor midway between them.

Has he been moved? asked Holmes. We have moved nothing except the lady. We could not leave her lying wounded upon the floor. How long have you been here, Doctor? Since four o'clock. Anyone else? Yes, the constable here. And you have touched nothing?

Nothing. You have acted with great discretion. Who sent for you? The housemaid, Saunders. Was it she who gave the alarm? She and Mrs. King, the cook. Where are they now? In the kitchen, I believe. Then I think we had better hear their story at once. The old hall, oak-panelled and high-windowed, had been turned into a court of investigation. Holmes sat in a great old-fashioned chair, his inexorable eyes gleaming out of his haggard face. I could read in them a set purpose to devote his life to this quest until the client whom he had failed to save should at last be avenged.

The trim Inspector Martin, the old grey-headed country doctor, myself, and a stolid village policeman made up the rest of that strange company. The two women told their story clearly enough. They had been aroused from their sleep by the sound of an explosion, which had been followed a minute later by a second one. They slept in adjoining rooms, and Mrs. King had rushed in to Saunders. Together they had descended the stairs. The door of the study was open and a candle was burning upon the table.

Their master lay upon his face in the centre of the room. He was quite dead. Near the window, his wife was crouching, her head leaning against the wall. She was horribly wounded, and the side of her face was red with blood. She breathed heavily, but was incapable of saying anything. The passage, as well as the room, was full of smoke and the smell of powder. The window was certainly shut and fastened upon the inside. Both women were positive upon the point. They had at once sent for the doctor and for the constable. Then, with the aid of the groom and the stableboy,

they had conveyed their injured mistress to her room. Both she and her husband had occupied the bed. She was clad in her dress, he in his dressing-gown over his night-clothes. Nothing had been moved in the study. So far as they knew, there had never been any quarrel between husband and wife. They had always looked upon them as a very united couple. These were the main points of the servants' evidence. In answer to Inspector Martin, they were clear that every door was fastened upon the inside and that no one could have escaped from the house. In answer to Holmes, they both remembered that they were conscious of the smell of powder from the moment that they ran

out of their rooms upon the top floor. I commend that fact very carefully to your attention, said Holmes to his professional colleague, and now I think that we are in a position to undertake a thorough examination of the room. The study proved to be a small chamber, lined on three sides with books and with a writing table facing an ordinary window which looked out upon the garden. Our first attention was given to the body of the unfortunate squire, whose huge frame lay stretched across the room. His disordered dress showed that he had been hastily aroused from sleep. The bullet had been fired at him from the front and had remained in

his body after penetrating the heart. His death had certainly been instantaneous and painless. There was no powder marking either upon his dressing-gown or on his hands. According to the country surgeon, the lady had stains upon her face, but none upon her hand. The absence of the latter means nothing, though its presence may mean everything, said Holmes. Unless the powder from a badly fitting cartridge happens to spurt backward, one may fire many shots without leaving a sign. I would suggest that Mr. Cubitt's body may now be removed. I suppose, Doctor, you have not recovered the bullet which wounded the lady? A serious operation will be necessary before that can be done,

but there are still four cartridges in the revolver. Two have been fired and two wounds inflicted, so that each bullet can be accounted for. So it would seem, said Holmes, perhaps you can account also for the bullet which has so obviously struck the edge of the window. obviously struck the edge of the window. He had turned suddenly, and his long, thin finger was pointing to a hole which had been drilled right through the lower window sash, about an inch above the bottom. By George! cried the inspector. However did you see that?

Because I looked for it. Wonderful! said the country doctor. You are certainly right, sir. Then a third shot has been fired, and therefore a third person must have been present. But who could that have been, and how could he have got away? That is the problem which we are now about to solve, said Sherlock Holmes. with our new favorite and recently played games tabs. And to top it all off, quick and secure withdrawals. Get more everything with FanDuel Sportsbook and Casino. Gambling problem? Call 1-866-531-2600.

Visit connectsontario.ca. You remember, Inspector Martin, when the servants said that on leaving their room, they were at once conscious of a smell of powder. I remarked that the point was an extremely important one. Oh, yes, sir, but I confess I did not quite follow you. It suggested that at the time of the firing the window, as well as the door of the room, had been open. Otherwise the fumes of powder could not have been blown so rapidly through the house.

A draft in the room was necessary for that. Both door and window were only open for a very short time, however. How do you prove that? Because the candle was not gutted. Capital, cried the inspector, capital. Feeling sure that the window had been open at the time of the tragedy, I conceived that there might have been a third person in the affair who stood outside this opening and fired through it. Any shot directed at this person might hit the sash. I looked, and there, sure enough, was the bullet mark. But how came the window to be shut and fastened? The woman's first instinct would be to shut and fasten the window, but— Hello? What is this? It was a lady's handbag which stood upon the study table,

a trim little handbag of crocodile skin and silver. Holmes opened it and turned the contents out. There were twenty fifty-pound notes of the Bank of England, held together by an India rubber band, nothing else. This must be preserved, for it will figure in the trial, said Holmes, as he handed the bag with its contents to the inspector. It is now necessary that we should try to throw some light upon this third bullet, which has clearly, from the splintering of the wood, been fired from inside the room. I should like to see Mrs. King, the cook, again. You said, Mrs. King, that you were awakened by a loud explosion. When you said that, did

you mean that it seemed to you to be louder than the second one. Well, sir, it waked me from sleep, so it is hard to judge, but it did seem very loud. You don't think that it might have been two shots fired almost at the same instant? I'm sure I couldn't say, sir. I believe that it was undoubtedly so. I rather think, Inspector Martin,

that we have now exhausted all that this room can teach us. If you will kindly step round with me, we shall see what fresh evidence the garden has to offer. A flowerbed extended up to the study window, and we all broke into an exclamation as we approached it. The flowers were trampled down, and the soft soil was imprinted all over with footmarks. Large, masculine feet they were, with peculiarly long, sharp toes. Holmes hunted about among the grass and leaves like a retriever after a wounded bird. Then, with a cry of satisfaction, he bent forward and picked up a little brazen cylinder.

I thought so, said he. The revolver had an ejector, and here is the third cartridge. I really think, Inspector Martin, that our case is almost complete. The country inspector's face had shown his intense amazement at the rapid and masterful progress of Holmes's investigation. At first he had shown some disposition to assert his own position, but now he was overcome with admiration, and ready to follow without question wherever Holmes led. "'Whom do you suspect?' he asked. Holmes led. Whom do you suspect? he asked.

I'll go into that later. There are several points in this problem which I have not been able to explain to you yet. Now that I have got so far, I had best proceed on my own lines, and then clear the whole matter up once and for all. Just as you wish, Mr. Holmes, so long as we get our man. I have no desire to make mysteries, but it is impossible at the moment of action to enter into long and complex explanations. I have the threads of this affair all in my hand, even if this lady should never recover consciousness.

We can still reconstruct the events of last night and ensure that justice be done. reconstruct the events of last night, and ensure that justice be done. First of all, I wish to know whether there is any inn in this neighbourhood known as Elridge's. The servants were cross-questioned, but none of them had heard of such a place. The stable-boy threw a light upon the matter by remembering that a farmer of that name lived some miles off, in the direction of East Ruston. "'Is it a lonely farm?' "'Very lonely, sir.'

"'Perhaps they have not heard yet of all that happened here during the night?' "'Maybe not, sir.' Holmes thought for a little, and then a curious smile played over his face. "'Saddle a horse, my lad, said he. I shall wish you to take a note to Elridge's farm. He took from his pocket the various slips of the dancing men. With these in front of him, he worked for some time at the study table. Finally, he handed a note to the boy,

with directions to put it into the hands of the person to whom it was addressed, and especially to answer no questions of any sort which might be put to him. I saw the outside of the note, addressed in straggling, irregular characters, very unlike Holmes's usual precise hand. It was consigned to Mr. Abe Slaney, Elridge's Farm, East Ruston, Norfolk. I think, Inspector, Holmes remarked, that you would do well to telegraph for an escort, as, if my calculations prove to be correct, you may have a particularly dangerous prisoner to convey to the county jail. The boy who takes this note could no doubt forward your telegram. If there is an afternoon train to town, Watson, I think we should do well to take it,

as I have a chemical analysis of some interest to finish, and this investigation draws rapidly to a close. When the youth had been dispatched with the note, Sherlock Holmes gave his instructions to the servants. If any visitor were to call asking for Mrs. Hilton Cubitt, no information should be given as to her condition, but he was to be shown at once into the drawing-room. He impressed these points upon them with the utmost earnestness. Finally, he led the way into the drawing-room. He impressed these points upon them with the utmost earnestness. Finally, he led the way into the drawing-room, with the remark that the business was now out of our hands, and that we must while away the time as best we might, until we could see what was in store for us. The doctor had departed to his patients, and only the inspector and myself remained.

I think that I can help you to pass an hour in an interesting and profitable manner, said Holmes, drawing his chair up to the table, and spreading out in front of him the various papers upon which were recorded the antics of the dancing men. As to you, friend Watson, I owe you every atonement for having allowed your natural curiosity to remain so long unsatisfied. To you, Inspector, the whole incident may appeal as a remarkable professional study. I must tell you, first of all, the interesting circumstances connected with the previous consultations which Mr. Hilton Cubitt has had with me in Baker Street.'

previous consultations which Mr. Hilton Cubitt has had with me in Baker Street. He then shortly recapitulated the facts which have already been recorded. I have here in front of me these singular productions at which one might smile had they not proved themselves to be the forerunners of so terrible a tragedy. I am fairly familiar with all forms of secret writings, and am myself the author of a trifling monograph upon the subject, in which I analyse one hundred and sixty separate ciphers, but I confess that this is entirely new to me. The object of those who invented the system has apparently been to conceal that these characters convey a message, and to give the idea that they are the mere random sketches of children. Having once recognized, however, that the symbol stood for letters, and having

applied the rules which guide us in all forms of secret writings, the solution was easy enough. The first message submitted to me was so short that it was impossible for me to do more than to say with some confidence that the symbol XXX stood for E. As you are aware, E is the most common letter in the English alphabet, and it predominates to so marked an extent that even in a short sentence one would expect to find it most often. Out of 15 symbols in the first message, four were the same, so it was reasonable to set this down as E. It is true that in some cases the figure was bearing a flag, and in some cases not, but it was probable, from the way in which the flags were distributed, that they were used to break the sentence up into words.

I accepted this as a hypothesis and noted which figure represented E. But now came the real difficulty of the inquiry. The order of the English letters after E is by no means well marked, and any preponderance which may be shown in an average of a printed sheet, may be reversed in a single short sentence. Speaking roughly, T-A-O-I-N-S-H-R-D and L are the numerical order in which letters occur, but T-A-O and I are very nearly abreast of each other, and it would be an endless task to try each combination until a meaning was arrived at. I therefore waited for fresh material. In my second interview with Mr. Hilton Cubitt, he was able to give me two other short sentences and one message, which appeared, since there was no flag, to be a single word. Now, in the single word I have already got the two e's coming second

and fourth in a word of five letters. It might be sever or lever or never. There can be no question that the latter, as a reply to an appeal, is far the most probable, and the circumstances pointed to it being a reply written by the lady. Accepting it as correct, we are now able to say that the symbols stand respectively for N, V, and R. Even now I was in considerable difficulty, but a happy thought put me in possession of several other letters. It occurred to me that if these appeals came, as I expected, from someone who had been intimate with the lady in her early life, a combination which contained two E's with three letters between might very well stand for the name Elsie. On examination, I found that such a combination formed the termination of the message,

which was three times repeated. It was certainly some appeal to Elsie. In this way, I had got my L, S and I. But what appeal could it be? There were only four letters in the word which preceded Elsie, and it ended in E. Surely the word must be come. I tried all other four letters ending in E, but could find none to fit the case. So now I was in possession of C, O, and M, and I was in a position to attack the first message once

more, dividing it into words and putting dots for each symbol which was still unknown. So treated, it worked out in this fashion. Blank M space blank E R E blank blank E space S L blank N E. Now, the first letter can only be A, which is a most useful discovery since it occurs no fewer than three times in this short sentence, and the H is also apparent in the second word. Now it becomes Am Here A.E Slain. Or, filling in the obvious vacancies in the name, Or, filling in the obvious vacancies in the name,

I had so many letters now that I could proceed with considerable confidence to the second message, which worked out in this fashion. Here, I could only make sense by putting T and G for the missing letters, and supposing that the name was that of some house or inn at which the writer was staying. Inspector Martin and I had listened with the utmost interest to the full and clear account of how my friend had produced results which had led to so complete a command over our difficulties. What did you do then, sir? asked the inspector. I had every reason to suppose that this Abe Slaney was an American, since Abe is an American contraction, and since a letter from America had been the starting point of all the trouble.

I had also every cause to think that there was some criminal secret in the matter. The lady's allusions to her past, and her refusal to take her husband into her confidence, both pointed in that direction. I therefore cabled to my friend, Wilson Hargreave of the New York Police Bureau, who has more than once made use of my knowledge of London crime, I asked him whether the name of Abe Slaney was known to him. Here is his reply. The most dangerous crook in Chicago. On the very evening upon which I had his answer,

upon which I had his answer, Hilton Cubitt sent me the last message from Slaney. Working with known letters, it took this form. Elsie blank, R.E. blank, R. to meet thy go blank. The addition of a P and a D completed a message which showed me that the rascal was proceeding from persuasion to threats. Elsie, prepare to meet thy God. And my knowledge of the crooks of Chicago prepared me to find that he might very rapidly put his words into action. I at once came to Norfolk with my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, but unhappily only in time to find that the worst had already occurred. It is a privilege to be associated with you and the handling of a case, said the inspector warmly. You will excuse me, however, if I speak frankly to you.

You are only answerable to yourself, but I have to answer to my superiors. If this Abe Slaney, living at Eldridge's, is indeed the murderer, and if he has made his escape while I am seated here, I should certainly get into serious trouble. You need not be uneasy. He will not try to escape. How do you know? To fly would be a confession of guilt. Let us go arrest him. I expect him here every instant.

But why should he come? Because I have written and asked him. But this is incredible, Mr. Holmes. Why should he come because you have asked him? Would not such a request rather rouse his suspicions and cause him to fly? I think I have known how to frame the letter, said Sherlock Holmes. In fact, if I am not very much mistaken, here is the gentleman himself coming up the drive. That's a feeling you can only get with BetMGM. And no matter your team, your favorite player, or your style, there's something every NBA fan will love about BetMGM.

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please contact Connex Ontario at 1-866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. A man was striding up the path which led to the door. He was a tall, handsome, swarthy fellow, clad in a suit of grey flannel with a Panama hat, a bristling black beard and a giant giant aggressive hooked nose, and flourishing a cane as he walked. He swaggered up a path as if the place belonged to him, and we heard his loud,

confident peal at the bell. I think, gentlemen, said Holmes quietly, that we had best take up our position behind the door. Every precaution is necessary when dealing with such a fellow. You will need your handcuffs, Inspector. You can leave the talking to me. We waited in silence for a minute, one of those minutes which one can never forget. Then the door opened and the man stepped in. In an instant, Holmes clapped a pistol to his head, and Martin slipped the handcuffs over his wrists. It was all done so swiftly and deftly that the fellow was helpless before he knew that he was attacked. He glared from one to the other of us with a pair of blazing black eyes. Then he burst into a bitter laugh.

with a pair of blazing black eyes. Then he burst into a bitter laugh. Well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time. I seem to have knocked up against something hard. But I came here in answer to a letter from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt. Don't tell me that she's in this. Don't tell me that she helped to set a trap for me. Mrs. Hilton Cubitt was seriously injured and is at death's door. The man gave a hoarse cry of grief, which rang through the house. You're crazy, he cried

fiercely. It was he that was hurt, not she. Who would have hurt little Elsie? I may have threatened her, God forgive me, but I would not have touched a hair on her pretty head. Take it back, you! Say that she is not hurt!' She was found badly wounded by the side of her dead husband. He sank with a deep groan on the settee, and buried his face in his manacled hands. For five minutes he was silent. Then he raised his face once more and spoke with the cold composure of despair. I have nothing to hide from you, gentlemen, said he. If I shot the man, he had his shot at me, and there's no murder in that. But if you think I could have hurt that woman,

then you don't know either me or her. I tell you, there was never a man in this world loved a woman more than I loved her. I had a right to her. She was pledged to me years ago. Who was this Englishman that he should come between us? I tell you that I had the first right to her, and that I was only claiming my own. She broke away from your influence when she found the man that you are, said Holmes sternly.

She fled from America to avoid you, and she married an honourable gentleman in England. You dogged her and followed her, and made her life a misery to her, in order to induce her to abandon the husband whom she loved and respected, in order to fly with you whom she feared and hated. You have ended by bringing about the death of a noble man and driving his wife to suicide.

That is your record in this business, Mr. Abe Slaney, and you will answer for it to the law. If else he dies, I care nothing what becomes of me, said the American. He opened one of his hands and looked at a note crumpled up in his palm. See here, mister, he cried with a gleam of suspicion in his eyes. You're not trying to scare me over this, are you? If the lady is hurt as bad as you say, who was it that wrote this note? He tossed it forward onto the table.

I wrote it, to bring you here. You wrote it? There was no one on earth outside the joint who knew the secret of the dancing men. How came you to write it? What one man can invent, another can discover, said Holmes. There is a cab coming to convey you to Norwich, Mr. Slaney, but meanwhile you have time to make some small reparation for the injury you have wrought. Are you aware that Mrs. Hilton Cubitt has herself lain under grave suspicion of the murder of her husband,

and that it was only my presence here and the knowledge which I happened to possess which has saved her from the accusation. The least that you owe her is to make it clear to the whole world that she was in no way directly or indirectly responsible for his tragic end. I ask nothing better, said the American. I guess the very best case I can make for myself is the absolute naked truth. It is my duty to warn you that it will be used against you, cried the Inspector, with the magnificent fair play of the British criminal law.

Slaney shrugged his shoulders. I'll chance that, said he. First of all, I want you gentlemen to understand that I have known this lady since she was a child. There were seven of us in a gang in Chicago, and Elsie's father was the boss of the joint. He was a clever man, was old Patrick. It was he who invented that writing, which would pass as a child's scrawl unless you just happened to have the key to it. Well, Elsie learned some of our ways, but she couldn't stand the business, and she had a bit of honest money of her own, so she gave us all the slip and got away to London. She had been engaged to me,

and she would have married me, I believe, if I had taken over another profession, but she would have nothing to do with anything on the cross. It was only after her marriage to this Englishman that I was able to find out where she was. I wrote to her, but got no answer. After that I came over, and as letters were no use, I put my messages where she could read them. Well, I've been here a month now. I lived in that farm where I had a room down below and could get in and out every night,

and no one the wiser. I tried all I could to coax Elsie away. I knew that she read the messages, for once she wrote an answer unto one of them. Then my temper got the better of me, and I began to threaten her. She sent me a letter then, imploring me to go away, and saying that it would break her heart if any scandal should come upon her husband. She said that she would come down when her husband was asleep at three in the morning, and speak with me through the end window if I would go

away afterwards and leave her in peace. She came down and brought money with her, trying to bribe me to go. This made me mad, and I caught her arm and tried to pull her through the window. At that moment, in rushed the husband with his revolver in his hand. At that moment, Hen rushed the husband with his revolver in his hand. Elsie had sunk down upon the floor, and we were face to face. I was healed also, and I held up my gun to scare him off and let me get away. He fired and missed me. I pulled off almost at the same instant, and down he dropped.

I made a way across the garden, and as I went, I heard the window shut behind me. That's God's truth, gentlemen, every word of it. And I heard no more about it until that lad came riding up with a note which made me walk in here like a jay and give myself into your hands. A cab had driven up whilst the American had been talking. Two uniformed policemen sat inside. Inspector Martin rose and touched his prisoner on the shoulder. It's time for us to go. Can I see her first?

No, she is not conscious. Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I only hope that if ever again I have an important case, I shall have the good fortune to have you by my side. We stood at the window and watched the cab drive away. As I turned back, my eye caught the palette of paper which the prisoner had tossed upon the table. It was the note with which Holmes had decoyed him. See if you can read it, Watson, said he with a smile. If you use the code which I have explained,

you will find that it simply means, come here at once. I was convinced that it was an invitation which he would not refuse, since he could never imagine that it could come from anyone but the lady. And so, my dear Watson, we have ended by turning the dancing men to good when they have so often been the agents of evil, and I think that I have fulfilled my promise of giving you something unusual for your notebook. 3.40 is our train, and I fancy we should be back in Baker Street for dinner. Only one word of epilogue. The American, Abe Slaney, was condemned to death at the Winter Assizes at Norwich, was condemned to death at the winter assizes at Norwich,

but his penalty was changed to penal servitude in consideration of mitigating circumstances and the certainty that Hilton Cubitt had fired the first shot. Of Mrs. Hilton Cubitt, I only know that I have heard she recovered entirely and that she still remains a widow, devoting her whole life to the care of the poor, and to the administration of her husband's estate. Next time on Sherlock Holmes Short Stories, when a flame-haired pawnbroker named Jabez Wilson shows up at

Baker Street with a curious advertisement for something called the Red-Headed League, Holmes immediately senses there's more to this peculiar puzzle than meets the eye. This bizarre newspaper clipping will lead the great detective to an audacious criminal scheme, a web of deception at the centre of which lies a criminal mastermind. Will he be able to crack the case in time, or has Sherlock Holmes finally met his match? Can't wait a week until the next episode? Well, listen to it right away by subscribing to Noisa Plus. Head to www.noisa.com slash subscriptions for more information, or click the link in the episode description.