The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn Page #2

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anything peculiar about these men?

- Yes, sir.

- What?

They kept on wallopin' me on me 'ead.

Is there anything else?

Yes, sir.

Could I have an aspirin?

Constable, look after

mister Crimpe, would you?

Thank you very much, sir.

The next witness!

Wallop, very good is it?

The next witness is waiting, sir.

Now then, sir.

Where were you on the night

of the throventeenth?

Don't you remember?

- Have you got all that down, Brown?

- Yes, sir!

Well, rub it out again, would you?

Superintendant Quilt

hurried back to Scotland Yard

and within minutes of his arrival,

the well-oiled machinery

of the CID sprang into action.

Calling patrol car eleven D,

calling car eleven D! Urgent.

Turn left into Oxford Street

and head west,

turn left into Oxford Street

and head west.

Calling car five K, car five K,

turn right into Oxford Street

and head due east,

turn right into Oxford...

Calling ambulance one-seven,

calling ambulance one-seven...

The search continued. During the

afternoon, several arrests were made.

With nightfall, the weather

took a turn for the worse.

But, even in the darkest, foggiest street,

London's indomitable

police searched on,

stopping late wayfarers and

ruthlessly questioning them.

- Hey! Hey, you two!

- Uh, yes?

Can you tell me the way

back to the police station?

- It's just over there.

- Thank you.

Darling, how romantic!

We must be near the river.

By noon the following day, vast amounts

of vital evidence were pouring in.

It's a letter, sir.

- Good work, Brown.

- Thank you sir.

Now let's see what this

letter's all about, shall we?

Yes.

Hello! It's a report from

the police laboratory.

- Really, sir?

- Yes.

Let's see... Analysis of fluff

taken from night watchman's

trouser cuff.

Discovered were fragments

of wool, cotton,

fine ash from Turkish-type cigarette,

particles of dried mud

from a limestone district...

...and a quantity of low-grade

industrial soot or coal dust.

Really, sir? And what was

the analyst's conclusion?

This suit needs cleaning.

- God!

- File that will you Brown?

- At once, sir!

We interrupt our story to bring you

a word from mister Maurice Ponque.

My name is Maurice Ponque...

And I live in a little

log cabin in Piccadilly.

Last night, I left a burning

cigarette by my bedside

and the 'ole place was burned down.

And the night before last,

my fire insurance ran out.

And we did not get a penny.

My, how we did laugh, heh-heh,

when we - heh-heh - heard about it.

Mister Ponque has nothing

to do with our story.

We thought you'd like to see

what a real idiot look like.

Six months later. The public

are pressing for an early arrest.

Assistant Commissioner,

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