 Blair of the Mounties, a story of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. We present the 23rd episode in Blair of the Mounties, being the second part of the Star Ruby of Telangor. In the tragic death of the young Prince of Telangor, and the theft of the Star Ruby, Inspector Blair is confronted with a new and unfamiliar problem in criminology. Surrounded with an atmosphere of religious mystery, the crime presents uncanny and baffling elements. Assisted by Miss Guest of the Secret Service, whose experience in oriental customs is of great value, we find Inspector Blair going over the facts as the scene opens. And so you have a theory, Miss Guest? Of course I have a theory, haven't you? Why, no. Why should I have a theory? Now you're making fun of me, Inspector. How can a detective solve a crime without a theory? So you've been reading detective stories, too, have you? Well, yes. I'm rather fond of them. A very bad habit for a real detective, Miss Guest? Almost as bad as reading newspapers. But one must keep up with the time. Well, I'm rather fond of reading, but modern books bore me to death. Yes, I know. You read things like Alice in Wonderland and Robinson Crusoe. I wonder how you can be interested in such childish things. I suppose it's because I've got a very simple mind. But let's get back to this case. What is this theory of yours, Miss Guest? It's hardly a theory, but I have a strong suspicion that Colonel Enderly had something to do with that murder. Are you sure you know the facts so far, Miss Guest? I think so. All the essential facts, anyhow. All right. Start from the discovery of the crime and work back to this solution of yours. First of all, there's this young Malayan Prince who arrives in Victoria. He appears at the Government House ball wearing the star ruby of Telango in his turban. It's a famous stone worth a fabulous sum of money. Yes, but come to the actual crime. All right. Don't rush me. He's staying with Colonel Enderly, who spent most of his life in Burma in the Malay states. In fact, Colonel Enderly was a political advisor to the Prince's father. Sooner or later you'll come to the actual crime, I suppose. Don't be impatient. I'm coming to it now. A short time after the Prince's return to Colonel Enderly's house, he is found dead, stabbed to the heart, and the star ruby missing. Those are the facts in a nutshell. Well, you've got most of them. What about the weapon and the way in which it was used? Oh, well, yes. I suppose that's important. The weapon is a small Malay increase. One of those things was a horrible wavy blade. Yes, and the method? The knife was used in the peculiar method familiar in the Malay Peninsula. The point of it was placed just inside the collar bone, and then with a blow delivered with the palm of the hand on the heavy hilt, the blade was driven vertically into the heart. Good. Now the theory? Yes, but wait a minute. There were only two people in that house besides the murdered man. They were Colonel Enderly and the Prince's native servant. Three people, Miss Guest. Don't forget Purvis. Oh, yes, of course. Well, then three people. It makes no difference to my theory. Oh, of course not. Being a woman, of course, your theory is naturally adjustable. Wait a minute. Call it three people. Inspector Blair, one of those three was the murderer. Great heavens, Miss Guest. You astonish me. Oh, dear. Now you're being horrid. All right, let's get on with the theory. Very well. Take the case of Colonel Enderly. He lived for 28 years in Burma and the Malay State. He was intimately acquainted with the Prince's family, and most important of all, he became a convert to the Buddhist religion. Why is that important? Good gracious, of course, it's important. This ruby was a secret stone stolen out of a temple. And what then? Oh, dear Inspector, surely it looks suspicious. Don't you see it's a motive, both for the murder and the robbery? Most convenient. But isn't it reasonable? This Colonel is a Buddhist. He recognizes the star ruby in the Prince's turban, determines to get it back and restore it to its proper place. Also, the murder of the Prince would be in punishment for stealing the ruby. What do you think of that? Not much, Miss Guest. But what's wrong with it? How do you know that stone was stolen from a Buddhist temple? Well, I'm not sure, but it must have been. I see, so it's a fit into your theory, I suppose. Well, that's just a detail. Of course. Now then, point number two. This ruby has been missing for more than 40 years, I understand, until it showed up in the Prince's turban. Yes, that's correct. The Colonel was 28 years in foreign service, and he's been a tired five years. So the ruby had disappeared seven years before he reached Burma. Funny, he should recognize it when he'd never seen it before. Of course you would think of a thing like that. You see, Miss Guest, that's why I don't believe in rushing of theories. Just because you find out this Colonel Enderley is a Buddhist, you start a theory. And like all theorists, you try to make facts fit the theory, instead of the other way round. But it is rather a remarkable thing, don't you think? Remarkable, but not important. It really contradicts any theory that Colonel Enderley was implicated in the murder. How is that? Because he's a convert to the modern intellectual school of Buddhist thought, which is against all forms of violence. And so my poor little theory is noble. Oh, I wouldn't say that entirely, Miss Guest. It's just that I don't know. This case is queer. Of course, all crime, especially murder, is unnatural. But there's something more than ordinary evil about this business. Then you don't believe the local police theory, either. You mean that the Prince's native servant killed his master and got away with the ruby? No, I don't. Why not? The servant was old and trusted. He had innumerable chances to steal the ruby. But why should he also kill his master? Whom apparently he was very devoted to. Yes, quite true. But surely you have to form some theory to solve a crime? No, I never thought much of theories. To me, a crime is like a jigsaw puzzle. Each piece is a fact to be laboriously fitted into place. You don't use theories in doing jigsaw puzzles. But isn't that rather crude? Yes, rather old-fashioned. It's the way they do it at Scotland Yard. And the theory we always use in the modern police works pretty well, though. I know you admire the Conan Doyle method, Miss Guest. I never saw anything in it. But you must admit Sherlock Holmes' theory of deduction was wonderful. Wonderful, perhaps. But crime isn't wonderful. It's rather grim and ordinary. Ever read the life of Conan Doyle by himself? No, I can't say I ever saw it. Read it sometime. He was challenged by Scotland Yard to try out his methods in real life. And what happened? Oh, he took up the challenge. There was a burglary in the village where he lived. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle went into action. In six hours, he discovered that the burglary was committed by a left-handed man. Well, I think that was very clever. Never, yes. The amusing thing is that when he made his report, he found that the village policeman had arrested the burglary three hours before. Oh, how ridiculous. Now, that's all. The village cop was probably a very simple sort of chap like myself. Probably he never even heard of such a thing as a theory. All right, I won't argue. What's that bundle of letters you have there? Something we found at the house where the murder was done. They're a private misguest. Oh, part of the jigsaw puzzle. Yes, part of the picture that is beginning to take shape. But all that million history, the jewel, and the oriental background. That means something. Conventionally, it should do, of course. But in this picture, it's just a part of the background. The background for a very simple story. A story that's as old as the world. Now you're being mysterious. Not at all. Think for a minute. You started with the story of the camel's life in Burma and the Malay states. Then you brought in the sultan of Telangor and the ruby. You left out purpose, the butler. You will persist in dragging in that butler. But he was there all the time. I'm not dragging him in. When you start a jigsaw problem, you must have all the pieces in the box. Yes, but the others are the most important. Exactly. Your romantic mind, misguest, seizes on the highlights. The oriental prince, the colonel, the flashing jewel. Only an ordinary chap like myself would consider the plain people in the case. But it's all in the picture. Yes, it's all in the picture. Let's look at the human side a minute. You have a young prince, fond of display, crazy about jewels and women. A very simple problem. All right. What else? You have the colonel, a more complex problem. Quite secretive, but harmless. A man whose mind has turned to strange fads. Oriental religions. He has a passion for beautiful gems. But he's harmless. And the butler. Yes, the most interesting of all. A loyal servant, a good soldier. A man whose life has been spent in the background. Giving service to others. A minor character until last night. What? Just a minute. Hello? Oh, yes, Marshal. What? Purpose. Yes, I was afraid of that. But it's the best way. Now listen. Here's the colonel there. All right. Bring him down here to the tell. And wait a minute. Tell him I want that missing stone. Understand? I want it right here. What? Never mind. You give him that message. And get here quick as you can. All right, hurry. Good gracious, Inspector. What is happening? Pente, the case is finished, Miss Guest. The last little piece of the puzzle is in place. But what's happened? Marshal found the body of the Prince's native servant under the big stone in front of the fireplace in the room where the Prince was killed. Oh, but what about Purpose, the butler? Poor old Purpose. He shot himself a few minutes ago. You mean... You mean he killed the Prince? Yes, and the servant too. What made him commit suicide? I suppose he found these letters gone. That settled it. Then those letters belong to Purpose. Yes, they tell the story. An old story, Miss Guest, but a tremendous one. It's a story that might happen in any village wherever human beings are to be found. It doesn't need any duels or oriental splendor to make it interesting. I simply can't make head or tail of it. Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Guest. Just be patient a little. And I'll let you have the story. Come in. Come in, Colonel. Ah, good morning, sir. Inspector, what a terrible thing. First my friend, the Prince and his servant. And now, poor Purpose. Yes, too bad. Did you bring that ruby? Ah, yes, Inspector. I have it. One moment. Oh, what a gorgeous thing. Permit me just one moment, Inspector. It is perhaps for the last time. Well? Ah, what beauty. What divine radiance. Yes, very pretty. Not much for duels myself. Here you are, Marshal. Fix it up and seal it. Mark it for evidence. Yes, sir. And now, Inspector, I suppose I... I am in your custody. Oh, no, nothing like that, sir. But I took that ruby. I'm ready to confess. I, as forget it, Colonel Envy, the case is finished. We don't want you. Poor old Purpose paid the bill. Ah, yes. My faithful old friend. He paid the bill. See the Colonel home, Marshal. Yes, sir. Oh, dear. Inspector, I'm simply dying to know what happened. Very simple. These letters tell the story. Purpose married a Burmese wife. They were very true to each other. They had a daughter, a very beautiful girl. On the death of his wife, Purpose sent her to Calcutta to be educated. That's the missing piece. Yes, the girl went on the stage. The young prince was fascinated. The servant arranged the meeting. I see. The old story. Yes, the old story. It's all in these letters that Purpose kept. The story of his daughter's success. And the story of her ruin and desertion. Purpose kept it all secret. But when the prince arrived, well, he did a good job. But the ruby. Yes. The poor old Colonel couldn't resist it. Purpose was ready to face the music. But the Colonel persuaded him to keep silent. He hoped the crime and robbery would be blamed on the native servant. And you're letting him go? Oh, yes. Much better. I've talked it over with the authorities. What's the use of making a scandal? The old chap's been through enough. Gracious. What a story. Well, I'm going uptown to see Macmillan. You coming? Yes. Do you know? I think I'll buy one of those jigsaw puzzles. You have listened to Episode 23 in Blair of the Mountains. Tune in for the next chapter, Episode 24.