The Mystery of the One - Legged Man

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Mystery of the One Legged Man by J. B. Hawley.
One newspaper readers will recall a series of brutal and
seemingly senseless murders that occurred in England and were attributed
to a criminal whom some clever writer dubbed peg Leg
because after each of his appearances he left conclusive evidence

(00:23):
in the form of footprints that he was minus his
right leg and wore in its place an old fashioned
wooden affair ending in a round steel ferrell I have
said that these murders were seemingly senseless affairs, and that
must have been the opinion of every one who considered
that they were committed without any apparent motive. From None

(00:46):
of his victims was anything stolen, and in the history
of their lives there were no passages to denote the
existence of an enemy who might kill in the spirit
of revenge for a real or fancied grievance. The first
of these horrible crimes occurred in York. The victim was
a certain John Elder, manufacturer of buttons and highly respectable citizen.

(01:11):
On the night of his death, Elder had retired to
his study to write some letters. As the evening was warm,
he opened the French window, and, according to the testimony
of his butler, who was the last of his household
to see him alive, had dragged forward a small table
and placed it just in the windows opening. He had

(01:32):
seated himself beside this table and begun to write. When
the servant left the room. At about eleven o'clock, this
same servant had heard a cry coming from the study.
He had hurried to see if anything was wrong with
his master, and had found him lying beside the table
with a knife wound gaping in his chest. Outside the

(01:54):
French window, the police had found unmistakable footprints of a
one legged man. These they found across the lawn until
they came to the road, where they became blurred and
finally lost in the medley of other prints on this
much traveled thoroughfare. Of course, the detectives rounded up every

(02:14):
one legged man in York and questioned them closely, but
all had unquestionable alibis, and as the police were unable
to discover or invent a means of tracing the criminal,
they eventually dropped the case. Peg Leg's second victim was
a little higher on the social scale, no lover of English,

(02:35):
Sport will ever forget the name of Sir Roger Bascombe,
nor will the many unfortunate souls whom he help in
their need be more backward in cherishing his memory, as
in the case of John Elder. Bascombe was killed between
the hours of eleven and midnight, and on the grounds
of his estate in Sussex were found another series of

(02:57):
the footprints of the one legged man. Because of his prominence,
the police put forth their best effort to run down
his murderer, but these were as unrewarded as had those
of their colleagues in York. These two murders happened within
three months of each other. Then for over a year

(03:19):
Pegleg was not heard from again. His next appearance was
in London, where on Hampstead Heath he stabbed Professor Thomas Belding,
the noted authority on Eastern religions. Now I come to
the last of Pegleg's activities. His final murder occurred here
in Camberwell and robbed me of one of my dearest friends.

(03:43):
The Reverend Frank Parkington was a bachelor and with young
Harry Fellows, his curate, lived in the Old Stone Vicarage
just behind the Church of Saint Anne's. He was, in
all particulars the finest man I have ever known of
review preacher, a good friend and ardent worker in his
chosen field. His home was a rendezvous for the few

(04:07):
of us who, over a convivial pipe, liked to discuss
those matters of the day that interested us. On the
night of his death, we had gathered at his request
to meet Captain Charles Wonderley, the Indian explorer, who was
his guest. We found this fellow Wonderly a very interesting talker.

(04:29):
He had traveled far and seen much, and knew how
to picture in words what he had seen. With his
descriptions and anecdotes. He held us interested until well toward midnight.
I remember that I arrived home about twelve fifteen. I
retired immediately, but I did not go to sleep at once,

(04:50):
as my mind was still full of Captain Wonderley's stories.
Just as I was dozing off, I heard the church
clock strike two, and at the same instant there came
a violent ringing at my door bell. I found Harry
Fellows awaiting me on my doorstep. Come come quickly, he said,

(05:11):
in a voice hoarse with excitement. Doctor Parkington is dead. Murdered, murdered.
Good heavens man, are you mad? I shouted, staring into
his face that showed pale and haggard in the feeble
light of my hull lamp. For answer, he reached out
and shook me roughly by the shoulders. Will you come,

(05:35):
he said, fiercely, or shall I have to carry you?
Had I not immediately shown signs of obeying his demand,
I really believed the young giant would have picked me
up and carried me just as I was in pajamas
and slippers. His love of Parkington, who had been more
than a father to him, was a strong thing, and

(05:57):
at that moment his grief made him less than reasonable.
In less than ten minutes, we were on the road
to the vicarage. As we hurried through the still night,
Fellows briefly told me what had happened. Two after his
guests had left, Parkington and Captain Wonderley, who was staying

(06:19):
for the night, went to their rooms because he had
some work to finish. Fellows had remained downstairs. At about
one fifteen. He was just finishing his writing when he
was startled and frightened by the sound of a blood
curdling moan. Followed by the sound of some one choking.

(06:40):
As soon as he had pulled himself together, he ran
upstairs and instinct guided him to Parkington's room. He knocked
at the door, and when there was no answer, he
pushed it open and entered the bedroom. There, on his
knees beside the bed, he found Parkington dead. A knife
or some long sharp instrument had been driven into his back.

(07:05):
What did you do, then, I asked, called Rogers the servant,
and sent him off for the police. You didn't you
didn't rouse wonderly No. In the excitement, I forgot all
about the fellow. We entered the vicarage and raced up
the stairs to Parkington's room. There we found Chief Constable

(07:28):
Smithers in charge, and with him a quiet looking man
whom he introduced as Inspector Grant of Scotland Yard. Down
for a bit of a holiday, sir, and stopping with me.
But for the moment I paid but little attention to
Smithers and his friend. I was too greatly upset by

(07:48):
the sight of the body I could make out lying
beside the bed. My natural sorrow at Parkington's death was
added to by the awfulness of the way in which
he had been taken from us. I went over and
stood beside his body, and, looking down on it, swore
that I would find his murderer and see that he
paid for his crime. Then I turned to Smithers for

(08:11):
his report. Squire, he began gravely. What I have to
tell you will probably surprise you. You have heard of
the notorious peg Leg Well, Sir, there is every indication
that this is another of his fiendish crimes. Both Fellows
and myself stared in amazement. Smithers continued, Yes, sir, I

(08:36):
know it sounds impossible, but nevertheless it seems to be
a fact. Inspector Grant here, who worked on both the
Bascomb case and that of Professor Building, will bear me
out when I say that all the clues we have
been able to find point in that direction. Inspector Grant
nodded his head. Smithers crossed the room and stood midway

(08:59):
between the bed and the open window that looked out
on poor Parkington's lawn. He pointed downward at the carpet.
See here, sir, these little round marks, and here and
here leading right to the window, sir, and plenty more
of them on the ground below. Accompanied by the print
of one shoe, which does not show on this carpet.

(09:23):
And those marks I began, they are from a wooden leg.
Smithers finished. But see here, Fellows cried from beside the window.
How did the beggar get in the house? No man
with a wooden leg could climb up here? Smither shook
his head. No good, sir, it's really a very easy job.

(09:46):
You have the hooks that hold the drain pipe all
the way. Both Brant and I tried it and had
no trouble at all. Have you tried to follow the trail,
I asked, Lord bless you, Yes, sir, we did that
at once, but it leads nowhere. The prints are lost
on the stone road, less than one hundred feet down

(10:07):
the highway. We were all bending over those horrible indentations
in the carpet when a sound at our back caused
us to look up. In the doorway. Clad in his
pajamas was Captain Wonderley, rubbing his eyes and yawning. I say, you, chaps,
he said, what's up? Then he caught sight of Parkington's

(10:30):
body and started forward. Good heavens, Parkington, he exclaimed, what's
wrong with him? Is he hurt? Dead, I answered briefly,
in a day's sort of way. Wanderley turned his eyes
from one to another of us. At last they rested
on Smithers, and, guided by the constable's uniform, addressed him

(10:54):
as the officer of the law. Have you got the
man that did this? Not yet, Smithers replied, And now, sir,
I'll trouble you to tell me who you are and
what you know of this business. Wonderley indicated fellows and me.
These gentlemen know me, He said. My name's Wonderley. I

(11:16):
was a friend of doctor Parkington. As for what I
know of this business, unfortunately I can't help you a bit.
You were staying in the house, Wonderley looked down significantly
at his night clothes. I certainly was, he answered, in
that room across the hall, and you heard nothing, no sound.

(11:38):
An expression of sorrow, almost of shame, passed over Wonderley's face.
If only I had, he replied, quietly, I'll wager Parkington
would be alive. Now you see, gentlemen, some years ago
I lost the hearing in my right ear. This deficiency
doesn't bother me ordinarily, But if I happened to go

(12:00):
to sleep on my left ear as I did tonight.
I'm deaf as a post. At my suggestion, we went
downstairs and seated ourselves in the library, leaving the murder
chamber and its ghastly inhabitant untouched to wait the officers
of the coroner. But hardly had we taken our chairs

(12:20):
when Fellows jumped to his feet, exclaiming, this sitting around
when Parkington's murderer is making good his escape is too
much for me. I'm going to have a look around.
I put out my hand to stop him, but at
a signal from Smithers, let it fall. Let him go,
he said, after Fellows had left the room. It won't

(12:43):
do any good, but it won't do any harm, and
it may ease the poor lad to be doing something.
Of course, you have sent out a general alarm, I
asked Smithers. A minute later he nodded, of course, sir.
Any one leg man seen hereabouts, we'll find his way
to the police station. Then we began a careful consideration

(13:07):
of the crime, each man suggesting that which he thought
might help toward clearing it up and bringing the criminal
to justice. In this consultation I conceived a great admiration
for Captain Wonderley. The man had an exceedingly keen mind.
He in competition with Smithers and Inspector Grant, both old

(13:30):
hands in the pursuit of criminals, he showed up wonderfully.
No point escaped him, and several times he set the
others right in the development of a theory or in
the statement of facts. Then and there I said to
myself that could I persuade Wonderley to give up his
time to seeking the murderer of my friend, I might

(13:51):
hope for some results. I was about to put the
suggestion to him when we all started by the sound
of quick footsteps on the stairs and along the hall.
An instant later, the library door swung wide, and the
huge bulk of fellows filled the aperture. I caught my

(14:12):
breath in amazement as I saw the expression on his face.
His eyes were wild with excitement, and about his lips
were lines of grim determination. Without a word to the
detectives or me, he crossed the room to Wonderley, and,
bending over him, whispered in his right ear. A look

(14:34):
of utter amazement came into Wonderley's eyes. This was quickly
followed by fear, which in turn changed to a sort
of blind rage. He strove to rise, but Fellow's hand
was about his throat and held him tightly to his chair. Then,
very slowly, Fellows brought his other hand from behind his back.

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In it was a long knife and some queer contrivance
whose purpose I could not make out. He threw these
things on the table in front of Wonderly Smithers. He said,
in a cold, hard voice, I want you to arrest
this man for the murder of John Elder, Sir Roger Bascombe,

(15:20):
Professor Belding, and doctor Parkington. Three. What happened then happened
so quickly that we others had no time to pull
ourselves together and go to Fellow's aid. There was a
brief struggle between Fellows and Wonderley, a cry from the latter,

(15:42):
a tinkle of broken glass on the floor, and then
suddenly Wanderley's body went limp in Fellow's hands. Poison, Fellows muttered,
bending over the body of his late antagonist. The beggar
had it in the pocket of his dressing gown. He
picked up a rug from the floor and threw it

(16:03):
over the body in front of him. Now we all
crowded around Fellows and burst into a babble of questions.
He raised one hand to silence us, and with the
other pointed at the queer contrivance, which, with the knife,
lay in front of Wonderley's corpse. There, he said, is

(16:24):
the wooden leg of your peg leg. The thing was
a piece of board cut in the shape of the
sole of a shoe. From the bottom projected ashort round
stick tipped with an iron ferroll. At the front and
back were straps by which it might be fastened to
a man's foot. Only a brief examination of it was

(16:47):
needed to see how, once so fastened, the prince the
wearer would lead behind him would certainly resemble those of
a one legged man. Smithers was the first to break
the silence. Mister Fellows. He said, I must congratulate you.
You have laid by the heels a man whom the

(17:08):
best detectives in England couldn't catch. But I beg you, sir,
tell us how you did it. Fellows sank into a chair.
All right, he said, it must be some time, and
I suppose it might as well be now. He drew
a square, leather bound book from his pocket. But first

(17:29):
he went on, I want you to listen to a
few extracts from Wonderley's diary. They will throw some light
on the man's motives for his dastardly crimes. Then, in
a low voice, he read us the following Calcutta, November sixteenth.
Civilization again, after five years of freedom, to be cooped

(17:53):
up in a place of narrow streets and silly houses.
But if it is my destiny to carry on the
war among men of my own race, I must not
begin by complaining. I see none but strange faces on
the streets and in the clubs. Thank the Gods, the
men who knew me have gone their ways. The fools.

(18:17):
They despised me, because my eyes sought the light, and
when having found it, I followed it. They said that
I had gone Fantee. How I could laugh at them now,
the pretentious asses, with their weak, amnemic gods, thinking they
know the secrets of life. I, who have stood before

(18:41):
the altar of Shiva and watched the spilling of the blood,
I who have hearkened to the angry voice of Kali,
would bid them halt and reconsider their conceit, lest the
vengeance that is Asia's descend upon them. London The message
came today and it is to kill, kill, kill. My birthday,

(19:05):
and I have begun the great work. John Elder is dead,
and now the police are searching for a one legged
man who killed him. One legged. I wonder if the
fools will even see through my little scheme of sending
them hunting the wild goose. The good work continues. Bascombe

(19:26):
and Belden are gone the way of Elder, So may
all men who lift their hands against the holy gods.
Fellows closed the book and threw it aside. Madman, I whispered,
a religious fanatic of the worst type. Fellows answered, I
think I can piece his story together. He became enamored

(19:49):
with the native life and probably fell into the hands
of the priests, or perhaps a woman led him to
the native shrines, and their damnable religion got into his
blood and drove him mad. Smithers scratched his head. But
what made him kill? Because his victims were the enemies

(20:10):
of his religion. All four of them knew the evil
practices of his cult, knew how his priests were holding
back the people of India with their best efforts and
their money. Here in England, they were fighting the battles
of their dark skinned brothers thousands of miles away. Now,

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will you tell us how you found this out? The
question came from Inspector Grant. Fellows nodded and began. There
was one thing that bothered me from the time Wonderly
entered the room upstairs, and that was his explanation for
not hearing Parkington's cry and the ensuing commotion which I

(20:52):
and the rest of us must have made. You remember,
he said he was totally deaf in the right ear.
That would have been all right had I not happened
to remember that I sat on his right side at
dinner tonight, and once spoke to him in a voice
barely above a whisper. In his right ear, he heard perfectly.

(21:14):
My first idea was that the man was a coward
and had stayed in his room because he had been
afraid to come out and see what all the noise
was about. I held to that opinion until we had
come downstairs, and I left you to wander about the garden.
When I went outside, my first impulse was to take

(21:34):
a lantern and examine the famous footprints. I did so,
and traced them, as you did, down to the stone road.
Then I came back to the house and began to
wander aimlessly about the other side of it. I ended
up a few yards away from Wonderley's window. Happening to

(21:54):
glance downward, I saw something that sent the blood racing
through my veins. There on the ground before me, in
a soft spot on the gravel, were another set of footprints,
And these were of the men with two legs, wearing
shoes that seemed to correspond to the single shoe worn
by the men with one leg. I raced around to

(22:17):
the other side of the house and verified my suspicion.
Then I went back to my find. I took the
direction the Prince pointed out and followed it slowly my
lantern close to the ground aways. Further on I found
another set of prints, and so on. Every little while
I found them, until I had made a wide detour

(22:40):
and was out on the stone road where the murderous
Prince began and ended. At first I did not realize
the significance of what I had discovered. Then suddenly it
came to me that a man would easily leave the
footprints of a one legged man if in walking he
used a stilt or some such device. Also I recalled

(23:04):
that the new Prince had begun at Wonderley's window. Then
I knew why he hadn't joined us in Parkington's room sooner.
It was because he was probably in hiding somewhere at
the other side of the house, waiting for a chance
to slip back into his room. After having murdered my
friend and left those bewildering prints, I came back to

(23:29):
the house, crept upstairs and went through his things. You
know what I found and what happened after that. The
end of the Mystery of the One Legged Man by J. B.
Hawley