THE MORIARTY MURDER MYSTERY

GOON SHOW: TLO 47306

8^TH SERIES: No 17

RECORDED: 20 Jan 1958

Script by Larry Stephens and Maurice Wiltshire

GREENSLADE: This is the BBC Light Programme. Here is a game you can all play. Take an ordinary piece of paper and make a small hole in it - thus. Place your eye to the hole and look through. If other members of the family will do the same, you can then gaze at eachother. In this way you can all enjoy hours of innocent boredom.
SECOMBE: Wal! Big fat Wal. A likely story. Now I leap onto a blazing bed when I say, hi folks! It’s me!
GRAMS: ENTHUSIASTIC CHEERING
SECOMBE: Thank you! Thank you! Seagoon (~~~~) at you.
GREENSLADE: Err listeners, once again I inform you that that was only recorded applause.
SECOMBE: (Raspberry)
GREENSLADE: Anybody can do it, I’ll show you. Hello folks! It’s me!
GRAMS/OMNES: BOOING, RASPBERRIES, LAUGHING
SECOMBE: All of which brings us to the all-leather Goon show!
FX: BUBBLES BLOWN IN A GLASS OF LIQUID WITH A STRAW
MILLIGAN: Tonight, the Moriarty Murder Mystery.
ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK
GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP
SEAGOON: News corporal Ying. Inspector Seagoon here.
CHAP (SELLERS) (distort): Listen inspector, listen! (Panting) Do you want to know who the Mauve Raven is?
SEAGOON: Yes!
CHAP: It’s...
FX: GUNSHOT
CHAP: Aaaaagh!!
O’SHEA: Harh. Who was it sir?
SEAGOON: Chap reporting a murder, constable.
O’SHEA: Murder sir? Whose murder? Whasrfrss...
SEAGOON: He didn’t say.
GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP
SEAGOON: Helloo? Inspector Seagoon here.
MUMBLER (MILLIGAN): (Distort, incoherent mumbling) -- if I -- (clears throat, more mumbling) See?
SEAGOON: I’ll be right over!
GRAMS: TELEPHONE PUT DOWN, ALARM SOUNDING TWICE, CAR TYRES SCREECHING
SEAGOON: So O’Shea, surround the dustbin!
FX: WHISTLE
O’SHEA: I’m sorry sir, it’s knocking off time.
SEAGOON: Curses! Foiled by knocking off time. Ah well, see you here nine o’clock tomorrow.
O’SHEA: Right sir.
FX: BASS DRUM, WHISTLE
SEAGOON: Morning, O’Shea!
O’SHEA: Morning sir!
SEAGOON: Right. Now let’s see what’s in this dustbin.
GRAMS: DUSTBIN LID REMOVED
SEAGOON: (Hysterical, nervous laugh)
O’SHEA: Steady sir.
SEAGOON: Now, what is it? The police should hear about this.
O’SHEA: We are the police sir.
SEAGOON: What? Oh, we got here quickly didn’t we? (Laughs)
WILLIUM (weak): ‘Ello, ‘ello.
SEAGOON: What is it, O’Shea?
O’SHEA: I never spoke sir! It must be the... the body!
SEAGOON: What? Did you speak?
WILLIUM: Yes mate.
SEAGOON: Now, play the game, don’t mess about. Either you’re a corpse or you’re not!
WILLIUM: I was, but I’m much better now, thank you.
SEAGOON: Don’t tell me you live in that dustbin?
WILLIUM: F’course I don’t live ‘ere mate! I just popped in to see my old matey.
SEAGOON: Where is he, mate?
WILLIUM: Downstairs he is mate. I only come up here to answer the lid. Ain’t that right, Charlie?
THROAT (MILLIGAN) (echo): Yes.
GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP
WILLIUM: ‘Ello? ‘Ang on, it’s for you.
SEAGOON: Thanks. Hello?
GREENSLADE (distort): Inspector Seagoon? Chief commissioner Scotland Yard to speak to you. Click, buzz.
SPRIGGS: Hello Jim! Hello Jee-eeym? Hello Jim. I can’t hear you, Jim. Jim, Jim. Hello-hello. Chig-chig-chig-chig. Hello Jim. Jim, is that you? Hello Jeeym. Jim-Jim-Jim? Hello? Hello-hello-hello-hello... There must be something wrong with the line Jim.
SEAGOON: Seagoon speaking.
SPRIGGS: Ah, now I can hear you! What did you do Jim?
SEAGOON: I spoke.
SPRIGGS: Then there is something wrong with the line! When you don’t speak I can’t hear you. Come to my office Jim.
SEAGOON: Right sir!
GRAMS: TELEPHONE PUT DOWN
SPRIGGS: (Nasal sound, over following)
GRAMS: DOOR OPENING
SPRIGGS: Come in Jim. Pull up a helmet, if it’s not spiked. Now... Now then, you’ve been with the police for, you’ve been with the police foooor... Twenty years?
SEAGOON: Yes sir.
SPRIGGS: Silence! Si-Silence Jim, when you speak to me. Silence when you speak to me! Did you find the murdered body and solve it? Hu-uuh? Hu-uuh? You will recieve the size fourteen boot!
SEAGOON: Oh no, sir! Not that! Sir, please! (Sobbing) Not that! Not the - ! (sobbing uncontrollably dissolving to strange sounds)
SPRIGGS: I tell you this is no laughing matter Jim! Very well, I’ll give you twenty-four hours of one day, whichever is the (winner?) by far! Whichever is the (winner?) by faa-eeeh...
ORCHESTRA: LINK MUSIC
GREENSLADE: Meanwhile in Shortage High Street...
GRAMS: FAINT CAR MOTOR
FX: BANJO AND SPOONS
GRYTPYPE (singing): Who’s lovable and who’s kissable? Miss Annabelle Lee...
MORIARTY: Owww...
GRYTPYPE (singing): Who’s wonderful and who’s...
BOTH (singing): Marvellous? Miss Annabelle Lee.
FX: COIN IN TIN CUP
MORIARTY: Oooouugh! Ooh-ho!... Thank you! thank you, lady...
GRYTPYPE: Give me that halfpenny at once, I’m wearing a pocket.
MORIARTY: Ow! But Grytpype, I’m the master of the spoon! Give it to me!
GRYTPYPE: Hand over, you blackened wreck or I’ll set fire to your string wig!
MORIARTY: Aeough! No, no...Eoghh...
GRYTPYPE: That’s better. Now then...
FX: SPOON CLICKING
MORIARTY: Eoughh. (Singing) Who’s wonderful... Marvelous... Miss Annabelle Lee (whistling)
GRYTPYPE: Shut up, you unmusical steamer you.
MORIARTY: Unmusical? Me?
GRYPYPE: Yes.
MORIARTY: Sapristi longala dongala hellava dongala!
GRYTPYPE: What’s that?
MORIARTY: Longala dongala I tell you! I have trodden in the steps of the masters!
GRYTPYPE: You’ve trodden in something.
MORIARTY: What?!
GRYTPYPE: Now let’s see how much we’ve taken.
MORIARTY (singing): Marvellous... Oh, money?
GRYTPYPE: One hapenny... (muttering) --of newspaper--one penny. (Aloud) One penny.
MORIARTY: One penny?
GRYTPYPE: Yes.
MORIARTY: That’s (lib?)! Whoooaw! Whohohoho-oww!
GRYPTYPE: Put it away! Waving your ‘owww’ about like that... Sssh! Look at that!
MORIARTY: What? (incoherent sentence) (Laughs)
GRYTPYPE: It’s a police inspector standing in a tobacconist’s window with a postcard pinned to him. What does it say?
MORIARTY: Ah, how much a photographer needs a beautiful model to –
GRYTPYPE: No, no, not that. Please inspect. The one next to him.
MORIARTY: Haah! One pound in cash or Sterling offered for the body of a murder victim!
GRYTPYPE: Well read, Moriarty! We are about to cop some lob.
MORIARTY: But where can we get the body?
GRYTPYPE: Quick, stick this imitation bullet-hole on your forehead.
MORIARTY: Right!
FX: SOUND OF A LIGHT SLAP
GRYTPYPE: Fall down in the gutter and close your eyes.
MORIARTY: Oowww...
GRYTPYPE (off mike): I say! Mister little round copper!
SEAGOON (off mike): What-what-what-what-what-what-what-what?
GRYTPYPE (on mike): May I introduce you to the body of Count Jim “Toes”...
MORIARTY: Brrrl!
GRYTPYPE: ...Moriarty. Only man to have shot a telephone directory in flight and twice world cheese dancer.
SEAGOON: I’ll take him!
GRAMS: CASH MACHINE REGISTER, COIN ON HARD SURFACE
GRYTPYPE: I thank you.
SEAGOON: Now why is this body lying down?
GRYTPYPE: He’s been murdered.
SEAGOON: Badly?
GRYTPYPE: No very well, he’s dead.
SEAGOON: Hold on a minute. What? A fake bullet-hole? What does this mean?
GRYTPYPE: He was murdered by a fake bullet.
SEAGOON: Gad, what a hellish way to die! Did you see his assailant?
GRYTPYPE: No, he had his coat buttoned up. But the murderer was a fuel man with a ling hat and faglo boots. And...
SEAGOON: Yes?
GRYTPYPE: He went that-a way.
SEAGOON: After him! After him! After hiim! After hiiiim!
MORIARTY: Ah, well done little (~~~)! That was a very (~~~) That got rid of him!
GRYTPYPE: Yes. (Laughs) Now let’s get out of here because here comes Max “Overcoat” Geldray to blow up his Dutch sleeves.
MORIARTY: Phistoo!

INTERVAL: MAX & ORCHESTRA: “Once in love with Amy”.
(applause)

GREENSLADE: To The Moriarty Murder Mystery...
MILLIGAN: (Nasal sound)
GREENSLADE: ...Part two.
ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK
GRAMS: SPEEDED UP RUNNING FADING IN AND OUT
SELLERS: Seagoon ran on and on. By nightfall he found himself in Chinatown amongst the armond-eyed devotees of the the poppy. And here and there, a pop-eyed devotee of the armond.
CHINESE (MILLIGAN): (Long-drawn Chinese gibberish)
FX: GUN SHOT
CHINESE: (Hurried, stressful Chinese gibberish)
GREENSLADE: Finally Seagoon paused in a darkened alley near the docks.
GRAMS: SHIP SIRENS
SEAGOON: Gad! Wonder where I am!
GRAMS: SLOWLY APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS
SEAGOON: What-what-what-what-what-what-what? Who’s that?
UNDERTAKER: Who’s there?
SEAGOON: I’m a policeman.
UNDERTAKER: And I’m an undertaker.
SEAGOON: (Gulp) Are you... looking for somebody?
UNDERTAKER: Yes. You.
SEAGOON: But I... (Garbles) I’m not dead! You, you can’t bury people who aren’t dead, it’s impossible!
UNDERTAKER: Not (intake of breath) impossible. But we should certainly have to box exceeding (sneer) clever.
SEAGOON: Well, I, ah... (Laughs nervously) I’ve got to go!
UNDERTAKER: In the end haven’t we all?...My card. But first, inspector, in your job I suppose you must stumble across the odd body? Hm? Hm?
SEAGOON: Yes.
UNDERTAKER: My business is falling off, you know and...
SEAGOON: (Snickers) You mean people don’t want their unders taken anymore?
UNDERTAKER: You’ve hit the nail right into the lid. Therefore I will pay you five pounds for every body you push my way.
SEAGOON: Certainly, I got one already. It’s ah -
GRAMS: TELEPHONE RINGING, PICKED UP
SEAGOON: Yes?
SINGHIZ (distort): Seagoon, listen. The murder of, murder of Count Moriarty reported. Good heavens man, the body has vanished, oh heavens man!
SEAGOON: What?
FX: TELEPHONE PUT DOWN
UNDERTAKER: Vanished?
SEAGOON: Don’t worry, I’ll find it!
UNDERTAKER: Good, I have a short contract for you here, just sign at the bottom of page (intake of breath) four hundred and ten...
SEAGOON: Right!
FX: PEN SCRATCHING
SEAGOON: There! Oh folks, oh folks! My first! I’ll be rich! (fades out)
GRAMS: SPED UP RUNNING, FADES OUT
UNDERTAKER: (Laughs)
ORCHESTRA: OMNIOUS MUSIC LINK
SEAGOON: Hullo folks! Hullo folks again! I (lost?) my megaphone at the time. I’m not only looking for a murderer but for a body folks! To solve this case, folks, I must have some clues, folks, that await, folks! What’s this poster on the wall folks?
CRUN: Crun and Company Limited. Licensed clue manufacturer. Now wash your hand.
SEAGOON: It says here in small print.
ORCHESTRA: ‘TO ACTION’ MUSIC LINK
FX: XYLOPHONE PLINKING, CONTINUES FOR 12 SECONDS
CRUN: It’s no good, Min. I shall never learn to play the exylophone.
MIN: Oooh... Alright modern buddy, let me try.
CRUN: Hear, hear.
FX: XYLOPHONE
MIN (singing): Yam-pam-pam, pam-pam-pampam...(etc., increases in speed)
CRUN: Modern Min... Modern Min! Stop that modern leaping Min!
MIN: I can’t help it buddy. I got the spring in my knees. Pwaaooh!!
FX: BOINGS, OVER:
MIN: (Continues shrieking)
CRUN: Stop it, you drunken oaf you!
MIN: Ahooow!!
FX: BOINGS CONTINUES
CRUN: You’ve been at the brass polish again!
FX: BOING, CRASH, DOOR OPENING
MIN: Oh dear... I’ve been taking too many of those Australian zoom pills, Henry.
CRUN: That’ll teach you. You naughty Min...
MIN: Naughty Min...
CRUN: Now relax in this arm grammophone while I tell you a very funny joke. (Laughs to himself) I say to you, “Knocke-knock” and you say “Who is there?”. Right?
MIN: Right, Henry!
CRUN: Knock... Knock.
MIN: There’s someone at the door, Henry.
CRUN: That was me, Min! Modern Min...
MIN: I better go and let you in then. Come in, Henry!
CRUN: No, now look, look. You say “Knock knock” and I’ll say “Who’s there”.
MIN: Alright, Henry... Knackedeknockeknack (etc.) Knock, knock! Knock!
CRUN: ‘Scuse me, Min, there’s someone at the door.
GRAMS: DOOR OPENING
CRUN: Yes?
MIN: Oh, we’ll be murdered in our beds! Phistoo, phistoo! Phistoo...
SEAGOON: Phistoo fine. ‘Scuse me, Mister Crun, the clue manufacturer?
CRUN: Come in, and mind the dog.
SEAGOON: Dog? I say, what a lovely coat he’s got!
CRUN: Yes, I knitted it myself.
GREENSLADE: Woof, woof.
SEAGOON: Saint Bernard.
CRUN: Yes.
SEAGOON: Now, I want to buy some murder clues.
CRUN: Brandy, you know. Now, what about our special mixture (~~~). Here: One footprint, pointing North...
SEAGOON: Splendid.
CRUN: Good. One heavy brass candle stick...
SEAGOON: What’s that for?
CRUN: Keeping a heavy brass candle. – And one porridge-stained knife.
SEAGOON: Porridge-stained?
CRUN: Yes, the victim was stabbed in the middle of breakfast, you know.
SEAGOON: I’ll take them. By the way, have you got an eyewitness in stock?
CRUN: An eyewitness? Well now, let me see...
FX: DRAWERS OPENING AND SHUTTING
CRUN: Where did I put him? Ah, here we are.
ECCLES: Aellough...
SEAGOON: So! You’re the eyewitness?
ECCLES: Yup yup yup. I’m, I’m de, I’m the eyewitness.
SEAGOON: Did you see this murder?
ECCLES: No.
SEAGOON: Aha! Then you didn’t see the man who commited it?
ECCLES: Yup. I didn’t see the man who commited it.
SEAGOON: As I thought. Now, would you recognise him if you didn’t see him again?
ECCLES: Er... Ough. Something funny here... I think so, but my eyes ain’t what they used to be.
SEAGOON: No?
ECCLES: No, they used to be my ears! (Laughs)
SEAGOON: Well, we must get them tested. Where’s the nearest optician?
CRUN: Just around the bend. I’m going that way, I’ll take you.
ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK
GREENSLADE: Just around the bend was a small shop marked, “Eyes tested, wills altered, signatures carefully copied, and string repaired while you wait”. Also, “Rare books, et cetera. Proprietor Major Bloodnok”.
ORCHESTRA: BLOODNOK THEME
BLOODNOK: Oooohh, oh, oh! I must’ve been out of my mind! Red peppers in dynamite sauce? I’ve mislaid my trousers out.
GRAMS: CLOTH RIPPING
BLOODNOK: Ooh, that’s better. Ahh, where was I? Ah yes, yes...
FX: PEN SCRATCHING UNDER:
BLOODNOK: “Dear headmaster. I enclose the three algebra books you requested. Yours sincerely, Dennis Bloodnok. P.S.: The middle one is hollowed out, and inside you will find our latest selection of photographs for art lovers, and fanciers of the human hat”.
FX: DOOR OPENING
SEAGOON: Good morning, I’m from the police.
BLOODNOK: Aooh! It wasn’t me, I tell you, it wasn’t! She’s lying! The Granada Hotel, room two oh five, I’ve never heard of it! It must have been some other filthy swine!
SEAGOON: Major, Major, control your brown (~~~~)!
BLOODNOK: I’m trying to! I feel no pain!
SEAGOON: I wanted to test this man’s eyes.
BLOODNOK: Certainly, certainly, certainly. Now, look here, you see that card on the wall?
ECCLES: Er... Yep, yep, yep.
BLOODNOK: Well... Read out as much as you can.
ECCLES: All them letters?
BLOODNOK: Yes, yes.
ECCLES: Okay. Um... (Strange sounds) “Snackopp. Esnaggoul. Nyakkanux... Alexedemyagganack...(etc.) Printed by J. Smith and Sons, Birmingham”.
SEAGOON: Splendid! This man’s eyes are perfect. Good enough to identify fifty yards Ray “Flat Top” Ellington and his four legs!

INTERVAL: RAY ELLINGTON AND QUARTET: “Stomp, look, listen”
(applause)

GREENSLADE: And now the Moriarty Murder Mystery, part three.
ORCHESTRA: MUSIC LINK
GREENSLADE: We rejoin Seagoon and Eccles, as they speed Northwards in a flying squad rickshaw.
SEAGOON: Now... What we’re looking for Eccles, is a fuel man wearing a ling hat and faglo boots.
OFFICER (distort): Hello-hello, calling all rickshaws, will Inspector Seagoon proceed to Hyde Park at once, suspicious-looking boot has been noticed loitering on the backs of the Serpentine, MP over.
SEAGOON: What-what-what-what? Rickshaw five, faster! Faster!
CYRIL: Doing my best, but you’re getting fatter all the time!
SEAGOON: Shut up!
CYRIL: Shut you yourself, you cheeky beef!
ORCHESTRA: OMNIOUS MUSIC LINK
SEAGOON: There it is, Eccles! A (~~~~) ordinary brown boot! But wait! there’s a foot in it.
ECCLES: Yer, it’s mine!
SEAGOON: Take it off.
ECCLES: Er, I’m only seeing if it fits. It’s a faglo boot.
SEAGOON: How do you know?
ECCLES: I got faglo feet.
SEAGOON: Then you’re the very man to keep watch for the murderer when he returns for his right foot property, or his left-foot property, depending on which boot it is! Hup! (Laughs)
ORCHESTRA: PUNCHLINE FANFARE
GREENSLADE: And so as night falls on the Serpentine, we find Eccles and a special constable keeping watch in disguise.
GRAMS: WIND, CRICKETS CHIRPING
BLUEBOTTLE: Eccles, my good man?
ECCLES: Yer, mine ‘Bottle?
BLUEBOTTLE: Tell me, my good man, how do you like being disguised as a lamp-post?
ECCLES: Oh, it’s al- (clears throat) It’s alright, but I don’t like that lamplighter fella.
BLUEBOTTLE: Why not?
ECCLES: He’s set fire to my nose three times. ‘Ere Bottle, how do you like being disguised as a tree?
BLUEBOTTLE: It’s quite nice, then I had, what I had been disguised as a tree. Yes, he didn’t know...
ECCLES: (mutters incoherently)
BLUEBOTTLE (mutters): Yes...fine...but he didn’t know...
ECCLES (mutters): ...it might been... (normal) I don’t like trees.
BLUEBOTTLE: Don’t you?
ECCLES: No, I don’t like (breachin’?).
BLUEBOTTLE: (Snickers)
ECCLES: My uncle Tom was a lumberjack, and he was killed by a fallen tree.
BLUEBOTTLE: What a shame!
ECCLES: And, and my uncle Dick, he was killed, he was killed by a fallen tree as well. And my uncle Harry...
BLUEBOTTLE: Was he a lumberjack too?
ECCLES: Oh, no no. He died in bed.
BLUEBOTTLE: What happened?
ECCLES: A tree fell on him! (Laughs)
GRAMS: APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL
BLUEBOTTLE: Shh! Someone is coming! Leave him to me.
ECCLES (off mike): ...fine, you stand in front...
BLUEBOTTLE: Halt! Sir halt, sir Murderer! I arrest you in the name of the Lee! Takes up truncheon and reads instructions on label. “Blatt blam bash blin wham zowiee bling boing whing blatt”! It says here in small print.
SEAGOON: Silence little grubby constable or that (high tide mark?) won’t be the only thing around your neck!
BLUEBOTTLE: Oh, it is my Captain! Salutes with truncheon, blatting self smartly on side of head, blan! Eeehoo!
ECCLES: Here, quiet! Shh, quiet! Someone’s comin’.
BLOODNOK (singing): The man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo...
ECCLES: He must have had a hammer.
BLOODNOK: Darling, darling, ah here you are!
SEAGOON: What-what-what? What are you doing here?
BLOODNOK: Ohohhh! It’s a lie! I left my Mackintosh here last night, that’s all, I... Oohhh!
SEAGOON: (Answer?), you came here to meet a lady.
BLUEBOTTLE: Yes, Captain. (snickers) There’s a lady behind that boot.
MIN: Ohh! One, two, three, pooww!
FX: BOING
GRAMS: SPLASH
LITTLE JIM: She’s fallen in da water!
SEAGOON: Curses! Foiled by zoom pills. It’s no good. Bluebottle, circulate the reward of five pounds for the murderer of Count Jim “Pules” Moriarty.
GRAMS: WHOOSH, WHOOSH.
GRYTPYPE: Five pounds, please.
SEAGOON: Five pounds.
GRYTPYPE: May I present the murderer of Moriarty.
MORIARTY: Ahh, mon pleasure, I’m charmed, mon pleasure.
SEAGOON: But that is Moriarty.
GRYTPYPE: Exactly. He shot himself.
SEAGOON: What? Then where’s the gun?
GRYTPYPE: He didn’t use one. He pointed his finger at his head and went “bang”.
SEAGOON: That’s ridiculous. (Laughs) How can a man shoot himself by pointing his finger at his head like this and going –
GRAMS: GUN SHOT, BODY FALLING TO THE GROUND. WHOOSH, SHOVEL ON HARD SURFACE
UNDERTAKER: Mine, I think! ... Hmm, where’s my shovel?
SEAGOON: What-what? You can’t bury me, I wanna join the Guard!
UNDERTAKER: No man under six feet can join the Guard.
SEAGOON: (Fading out) Heeeeeee...eeelp!!
GREENSLADE: Let us not worry. It’s all in the mind, you know. It says here in small print.
ORCHESTRA: END TUNE: “Ding dong the witch is dead”
GREENSLADE: That was the Goon show, a BBC recorded programme featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Spike Milligan. With the Ray Ellington Quartet, Max Geldray and the orchestra conducted by Wally Stott. Script by Larry Stephens and Maurice Wiltshire. Announcer Wallace Greenslade. The programme produced by Charles Chiltham.
ORCHESTRA: END TUNE WITH RAY ELLINGTON QUARTET