by David Marcum
“Evidence? How about the pieces in Angus-Burton’s study that are not forgeries?”
This made even less sense to me. “Tseng didn’t steal the entire collection?”
“Oh, I did, Dr. Watson. You have my word that every piece of the collection accumulated by Angus-Burton père is here.”
Holmes explained, “Whenever possible I put myself in the shoes of the criminal, as it were, to try to think as he thinks. When I recognized that the small cabinet was a forgery I searched the collection for more. To my surprise most - but not all - of the treasures had been substituted. This puzzled me. Why only steal the vast majority of the treasure instead of all of it? Then I noticed that the authentic pieces were among the most intricate and detailed of the collection. That was when it became obvious that all of the collection had indeed been stolen. These authentic pieces would have been virtually impossible to accurately duplicate, so they were replaced with genuine identicals.”
“I’m trying,” I said, “but I can’t see any reason for doing that. The trouble and expense of replacing a few items with genuine twins could not have been worth the effort.”
“My friend is correct, Tseng. Such an action suggested bitterness and resentment. You could not permit Angus-Burton to keep one single item from his father’s collection if it was in any way possible to leave him with none of it.”
Tseng paced a bit, his faced turned from us all the while. “I repeat, I have no qualms about how other men shall judge my actions. Still, you have not told me how you knew I had joined the Triad.”
“To accomplish this robbery, you needed the aid of artisans familiar with Chinese furniture and art. These would have to be men that you could trust not to talk about your plan. You also needed access to a good deal of capital, not just for these artisans, but to pay for materials. What other resource was available to you that had access to all of this than the Triad? Especially when in return you could offer them access to everything you had learned from your years of service to one of the Queen’s own advisors.”
“Ah. I see.” Tseng halted and let everything he had just heard go round his head again before speaking further. “It is a rather obvious trail once it is explained, but one that requires extraordinary perception and skill to follow.” He smiled at Holmes. “I congratulate you on your abilities.”
“You are aware of the unexpected affect your robbery has had on your former master?”
“Which is?” Tseng asked half-heartedly.
“He senses that things are not as they appear to be in his study, but he cannot see what is out of place. This, coupled with your mysterious disappearance and, I suspect, the fatigue of three journeys to China in three years, have deluded him to believe his wife has cursed him.”
Tseng started to raise his arms in alarm before catching himself. “He thinks the mistress could - that is absurd!”
I assured Tseng it was true, and his anger blazed. In a quiet voice, he cursed, “That fool.” Then his calm demeanor returned. “Well, it does not matter. Your deductions are correct, Mr. Holmes. Go and tell him everything. When you do, he will see that there is no curse. The mistress is most innocent.”
I suggested, “Perhaps it would be better if you returned what belonged to him?”
“No, Doctor. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted. The Triad owns this collection and they own me. That is the price I paid for their help. Their wish is that I return these treasures to China and I must obey. As must Malcolm Angus-Burton. He has more in his life than this collection. He has influence. He has wealth. And he is married to the most beautiful and gracious woman in England. I ask you, how much fortune does one man deserve in a lifetime?”
Holmes interjected, “Such decisions are for providence, not men, to decide.”
“I have decided. I only agreed to your request because my masters in the Triad believe it was the simplest way to bring this matter to a conclusion. Now it is time for you to go.”
“Wait!” I said. “What did you mean that Angus-Burton must obey the Triad?”
A solemn but determined glint hardened Tseng’s eyes. “The Triad defends what is theirs, Doctor. If Malcolm Angus-Burton does not wish to lose the abundance of all he still possesses, then he must be satisfied with matters as they stand and move on with his life, as I now must move on with mine.”
The following day, with Mrs. Angus-Burton’s permission, Holmes presented Tseng’s warning to her husband. That should have been the end of the matter, but Angus-Burton was outraged to learn of the betrayal.
The next night, Scotland Yard stormed The Way to Heaven and - after a fierce struggle - recovered the stolen collection. They also found Tseng, murdered in the gruesome ritualistic way of the Triad to prevent the organization from losing possession of him to the police. As for the Angus-Burtons, a few nights later their Notting Hill home was broken into, and upon the morning they were discovered by their servants in the same condition as their former servant.
The tragedy shook the grand old city, inspiring magistrates to begin the clean-up of the slums that grew in earnest during the Nineties. I like to think that because of this, the Angus-Burtons did not die in vain, something that I mentioned to Holmes while we looked back upon this sad case a short time later.
“It’s a fine thought, Watson, but for myself I am convinced that there was indeed a curse at work in this case. Two of them, actually. The petty curses of hubris and desire. Angus-Burton’s hubris not to accept what was lost and be thankful for what he still possessed, and Tseng’s desire to take what he could when he couldn’t have what he coveted, all to hurt a man who had never done anything but love him. It cost them both dearly, but not as dearly as it cost a dear young woman whose only sin was to be caught between the folly of two men’s pointless inhumanity to one another.”
The Tuttman Gallery
by Jim French
This script has never been published in text form, and was initially performed as a radio drama on October 28, 2001. The broadcast was Episode No. 24 of The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, one of the recurring series featured on the nationally syndicated Imagination Theatre. Founded by Jim French, the company produced over 1,000 multi-series episodes, including one-hundred-twenty-eight Sherlock Holmes pastiches - along with one later “bonus” episode. In addition, Imagination Theatre also recorded the entire Holmes Canon, featured as The Classic Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, the only version with all episodes to have been written by the same writer, Matthew J. Elliott, and with the same two actors, John Patrick Lowrie and Lawrence Albert, portraying Holmes and Watson, respectively.
This script is protected by copyright. For permission to reproduce it in any way or to perform it in any medium please apply to www.jimfrenchproductions.com
THE CAST
SHERLOCK HOLMES - John Patrick Lowrie
DR. JOHN H. WATSON - Lawrence Albert
MARY WATSON - Mary Ann Dorward
INSPECTOR GREGSON– Jeff Seitzer
VOLAND - Jeff Seitzer: Neutral middle-class Brit, sixty
QUAYLE - Dennis BateMAN:Fusty sixty-year-old
PYNE - Larry Albert: Grouchy, low-class, fifties
MRS. VOLAND - Ellen McLain: Grieving middle-class widow, sixties
KEEPER - Jim French: Middle-class, friendly, late middle age
MAN - Larry Albert
WOMAN - Ellen McClain
THE PLAY
SOUND EFFECT:HUSHED CROWD IN MUSEUM (ON FIRST ECHO)
VOLAND:...and we find ourselves once more at the entrance. This will conclude our museum tour for this evening, ladies and gentlemen. We thank you for your patronage and we do hope you’ll visit the Tuttman Gallery again. Are there any final questions?
MAN:(OFF) Well, who’s to say all these fantastic creatures ever really lived? I mean, they could just be dummies made up by a taxidermist,
couldn’t they?
VOLAND:Sir, each and every one of the specimens you have seen was alive when captured by Mr. Tuttman.
WOMAN:But you said there aren’t any more like them anywhere in the world, so how are we to know?
VOLAND:Madame, this is not the P. T. Barnum circus. It is the private collection of Mr. Cyril Tuttman, who devoted his life and his fortune to the discovery of the rarest animal life on the planet! You may have every confidence that the animals on display here are genuine in every respect. Now...
SOUND EFFECT:BIG OUTER DOOR OPENED
VOLAND:...I bid you all a pleasant evening, and a good night.
SOUND EFFECT:CROWD MURMURS ON ITS WAY OUT
VOLAND:Come again! Be sure to tell your friends. Good night.
SOUND EFFECT:THE DOOR CLOSES AND IS BOLTED. VOLAND WALKING ON MARBLE FLOOR UNDER. HE SNAPS OPEN HIS POCKET WATCH
VOLAND:Nine-twenty!
SOUND EFFECT:POCKET WATCH SNAPPED CLOSED
VOLAND:I never do get them out of here on time. Well, Bob’s late again, so I’ll have to turn down the lamps myself.
SOUND EFFECT:STEPS PAUSE
VOLAND:(PENSIVE SIGH) One down, thirteen to go.
SOUND EFFECT:HE STARTS WALKING AGAIN, PAUSES
VOLAND:Two... three... four... there, the lobby’s dark.
SOUND EFFECT:HE STARTS WALKING AGAIN, PAUSES
VOLAND:It would be nice if they’d put in electric lights. Just turn a switch and you’d be done.
SOUND EFFECT:HE STARTS WALKING AGAIN, PAUSES, OPENS A DOOR. (LARGER ROOM ECHO):
VOLAND:Ah. There’s the smell again. Odd no one mentions it.
SOUND EFFECT:HE WALKS (UNDER)
VOLAND:I suppose some of these beasts want a good cleaning. If they weren’t dead, they’d do it for themselves like my cat, I suppose.
SOUND EFFECT:STEPS STOP. (OFF); A SOUND LIKE A BUMP ON WOOD
VOLAND:Hello, what’s that? (PAUSE) (UP) That you, Bob? (LOUDER) Bob? (PAUSE) Hm!
SOUND EFFECT:HE STARTS WALKING AGAIN
VOLAND:Maybe it wasn’t a door. Maybe it...
SOUND EFFECT:STEPS STOP
VOLAND:I don’t think I’ll turn down any more lights.
SOUND EFFECT:THE SOUND AGAIN
VOLAND:Bob? Is that you?
SOUND EFFECT:ANIMAL RUNNING TOWARD HIM WITH RUMBLING GROWL
VOLAND:Oh my God! Oh my God! (SCREAMS HORRIBLY)
WATSON:My name is Doctor John H. Watson, and the Sherlock Holmes adventure I have for you tonight took place in the autumn of the year 1889. I no longer lived in our old digs in Baker Street, having married and started up my medical practice again in Paddington. But Holmes and I remained the closest of friends, and I joined him in many an investigation, with the approval of my wife, Mary. On the particular night when this case began, we had just retired at ten, when, at ten-fifteen, a cab clattered to a stop outside, and a cane rapped * smartly on our door.
SOUND EFFECT:*PER DIALOG ABOVE: CANE RAP ON DOOR
MARY:Who can that be at this hour?
WATSON:Who is it usually?
SOUND EFFECT:SHEETS TURNED BACK
MARY:Sherlock Holmes?
WATSON:In this neighborhood, at this time, with a stick instead of knuckles? It’s Holmes or the police.
SOUND EFFECT:CANE RAPS AGAIN
WATSON:(UP) I’m coming, I’m coming! Just putting on my dressing gown!
SOUND EFFECT:SLIPPERED FEET HURRY, STOP. DOOR OPENS
WATSON:Holmes?
HOLMES:A thousand apologies, Watson.
WATSON:Come in, come in.
HOLMES:How quickly can you be dressed?
WATSON:Why... three or four minutes. What’s the matter?
HOLMES:Murder most foul, Watson. Scotland Yard is panting to tramp all over the scene but, to his credit, Tobias Gregson has roped it off until I join him with you and your medical bag. Go on, get dressed and I’ll wait in the front room. (OFF-MICROPHONE SHOUTS) Wait for us, Cabbie! We won’t be a minute!
SOUND EFFECT:FRONT DOOR CLOSED
HOLMES:Now, while you dress, I’ll tell you what I know: the killing took place shortly past nine tonight at Tuttman’s Gallery, a museum in Threadneedle Street. The body - that of a guide at the museum - was found by the night watchman who sounded the alarm. I wouldn’t have known a thing about it but for the fact that I was riding home from a lecture at Lloyds when a Black Maria passed me on Leadenhall Street, turned the corner and pulled up in front of the museum. I saw it was Gregson and he invited me in. Are you hearing me?
WATSON:(FAR OFF MICROPHONE) Yes, perfectly. Go on.
HOLMES:The room where the slaughter occurred is a large gallery with stuffed animals placed around a pool.
WATSON:Did you say slaughter?
HOLMES:You’ll see what I mean. Are you almost ready?
WATSON:Just pulling on my boots.
HOLMES:We must hurry, Watson. Whoever or whatever killed the guide is still at large!
MUSIC STING:SCENE BEGINS ON FIRST ECHO
SOUND EFFECT:(BACKGROUND) SEVERAL POLICEMEN IN DISTANT INTERIOR
GREGSON:Good evening, Doctor Watson.
WATSON:Good evening, Inspector Gregson.
GREGSON:I suppose Mr. Holmes has prepared you.
WATSON:Prepared me? Well, he-
GREGSON:It’s not a pretty sight.
HOLMES:Murder never is. The first thing, Watson, is to ascertain how the victim was killed.
GREGSON:Come on into the main exhibit room. Ever been here before?
WATSON:Not I.
GREGSON:Well, the gallery looks like a jungle clearing, dirt path and all. Watch where you step.
SOUND EFFECT:THREE MEN WALKING ON FLOOR, THEN ONTO DIRT
HOLMES:Who found the body?
GREGSON:The night watchman. The victim’s name is William Voland. He was found in this room we’re going into. Step carefully now. (CALLS OUT) Can you turn the gas up as high as it goes, Mr. Quayle?
QUAYLE:(FAR OFF) Of course.
SOUND EFFECT:STEPS STOP
WATSON:My word! It’s like a jungle clearing in here, even to the humid air! And look at all the animals around a pond... even a mannequin of a native with his spear... Wh... What’s all this? Good heavens!
GREGSON:Now, Doctor, I need you to tell me: Are these all parts of one man, or more than one? And are any parts missing?
WATSON:(CLOSE, INTIMATE NARRATION) Never, not even in the Battle of Maiwand, had I seen such carnage! I shan’t attempt a detailed description of the scene that met my eyes, but the room was like a slaughterhouse. While I tried to mentally reconstruct the remains into some semblance of their natural condition, Holmes made a thorough inspection, at one point lowering himself to stretch upon the earthen trail under the trees beside the pond. Then he got up and followed the trail to the back of the room and left it through a door. When I had accumulated as much information as possible from the remains, I joined Holmes and Gregson in an office off the lobby. The man who had turned up the gas jets was there, steadying himself beside a desk, looking quite ill.
GREGSON:This is Mr. Quayle, the manager of the museum.
HOLMES:And I am Sherlock Holmes, and this is Doctor John H. Watson.
QUAYLE:So good of you to come, gentlemen.
GREGSON:Any conclusions, Mr. Holmes?
HOLMES:The absence of a second set of footprints is interesting.
GREGSON:And Doctor? What are your conclusions?
WATSON:The remains are that of one man, but some organs are missing.
QUAYLE:Oh my word! Poor Voland!
HOLMES:It appears he was attacked near the edge of the pool, but crawled round, trying
to get away, and then he fell and could rise no more. A quantity of bloody water has washed away any tracks.
QUAYLE:Oh, Lord have mercy!
HOLMES:And Watson, you no doubt observed there is no evidence that Mr. Voland’s struggle for his life took him near either entrance?
GREGSON:Well then, how did the killer get out? He’d have had blood on his shoes.
HOLMES:We will know that when morning comes and the gallery will be brighter. Also, I noticed someone’s been through the victim’s clothes.
GREGSON:That was me. Voland had a purse with six pounds, half-a-crown and two shillings in it; a key to the museum and a house key, and a small list of items he apparently intended to buy at an apothecary’s shop. The motive wasn’t robbery.
HOLMES:But he had no watch?
GREGSON:No, there was no watch.
HOLMES:Curious. What’s the name of the man who found him?
QUAYLE:His name is Bob Pyne. He’s the night watchman. He rushed over to my house. I live just next door, you see.
HOLMES:And it was you who called the police?
QUAYLE:Yes. I called the police straightaway and came right over.
HOLMES:Kindly tell me about this museum, Mr. Quayle, if you feel able.
QUAYLE:Well...the Tuttman Gallery is maintained by a trust from the estate of Cyril Tuttman, a world explorer who was born in a house that stood right here where the Museum now stands. Near the end of his life, he established the museum to house the rare specimens he’d encountered during his several expeditions.
HOLMES:Those on display in the gallery?
QUAYLE:Those and more that are in storage. Species of exotic animal life; birds, reptiles, mammals of the most bizarre kinds... many that were thought to be extinct, or which have since become extinct. He had them stuffed and mounted in realistic poses, and placed in settings faithful to their natural habitats. It’s quite instructional.
HOLMES:Many of the specimens are completely unfamiliar to me.
QUAYLE:Many of them are mutations of rare species, and some of them in fact were thought to have died out millennia ago. The sabre-tooth tiger, a unique species of ape, the forty-foot python-