Unknown Broadcast | The Murders in the Rue Morgue: Edgar Allan Poe’s Locked-Room Detective Mystery

Radio-drama transcript, edited from an automatic transcription. Minor transcription errors may remain; not checked word for word against the audio. Separate host introductions, closing announcements and advertising omitted.

Well, now, my friends. Make yourselves comfortable. Turn down the lights. And listen to one of the most horrifying and mystifying of stories. Edgar Allan Poe's The Murders in the Rue Morgue. The year is 1840. The place, Paris, France. At about seven o'clock in the evening, a young off-duty gendarme, Pierre Muset, and his sweetheart, Yvette, are returning to her apartment in the Rue Morgue after an evening at the Moulin Rouge. But when, when, my darling, shall we be married?

Oh, just as soon as I am promoted to gendarme first class, Yvette. When will that be? Oh, when indeed. My sergeant, Duchamp, is one of the most indifferent, ruthless of sergeants who takes pleasure in holding his men back, doing all he can to prevent promotion rather than... Yvette, look. There's a crowd in front of your house. Something's wrong. Come here, quickly. All right. All right, let me through. I'm a gendarme. You.

You there. What's happened? We do not know. It happened less than a minute ago. Screams, officer. The most awful screams from Madame Lespinay's apartment. Madame Lespinay? Her daughter Camille? Yvette, this is you. Oh. Yes, Camille, too. Both of them screaming so horribly in such agony. I cannot tell you. Where is the Lespinay apartment? What floor? Next to mine. Fourth floor back. Yvette, you stay here. I'll see what happens. No, no. I'll come with you.

Stay here, I tell you. God knows what I'll find up there. No, Pierre. They were my friends. Oh, well, all right. All right. Come on, then. Is this the apartment? Yes. All is quiet. Too quiet. Door is locked. Break it in. All right. So, now let's have a look. Pierre. Oh, my God. Yvette. No. No. I won't faint. I'll be all right. But, oh, heaven help us. What has happened here? Look, the woman on the floor.

Her throat cut. Is that Madame Lespinay? Yes. But her daughter, Camille, where is she? The bathroom door. It's closed. For her... I'll go and see. No. It's empty. The kitchen, then. It's the only other room. No. Now there's no one in the kitchen. But where can she be? The door was bolted on the inside. The windows. They're closed. Yes, but... And this one's locked. Look, it's nailed shut. You see? See the nail?

The window next to it is nailed shut, too. And anyhow, it's a sheer four-story fall to the yard below. Camille couldn't have left that way. Oh, Pierre. Pierre. Be calm, Yvette. We must both be calm. In the face of this? Oh, poor Madame. Her throat cut. Look. Look here. This is strange. A bag of gold pieces. Napoleon strewed all over the floor. Perhaps... Perhaps the murderer heard us coming and hurried to make his escape before...

What escape? How could he escape? The door is bolted on the inside. The two windows, the only windows in this apartment, nailed shut. How could he leave? How could Camille leave? Impossible. It's just impossible. It makes no sense. Here. Give me a hand. Get this poor old lady off the floor, onto the bed. Yes. You take her by the feet. I'll lift her by the shoulders. Ready? Yes. All right. Now, lift.

Oh, good Lord. Pierre. Her head. It fell off. Don't faint, Yvette. Don't faint. Oh, no. Look, I must get a message to headquarters at once. You take it while I remain here and... Wait. What, Pierre? The fireplace. See there? A lot of soot has been dislodged. Fallen down from inside the chimney. What would that mean? There's only one way to find out. And that is to get down on my hands and knees and look up into the chimney.

What is it? I am looking into a woman's face. A dead woman's face. Her face? It must be Camille. She's been stuffed up the chimney. Head down. Pierre? What? I'm sorry. I can't help it. I'm going to faint. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it.

I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can't help it. I can help it. I can help it. I can help it. A tailor is all alike. You can never get enough of wine. Oh, love. Come here to me. Sure. Not now. I'm engaged. Yeah, to a gendarme. And second class yet. There'll be a gendarme first class someday.

Yes, and a sergeant someday too. He... Sure. Let me go. I must answer the door. Claire, darling. I wasn't expecting you. Yes, so I see. Oh, don't get any ideas, Pierre. This is Jules Dubourg. He's a sailor on sick leave. Jules, this is Pierre Musée, my fiancé. Hello. How long have you two known each other without my knowing? A few days. Jules only came to live here a few days ago. Live here?

He has two rooms in the basement, and he is quite sick. Something I picked up on my last voyage in Borneo. Borneo, eh? Jules has been all around the world, and more than once. Thank you for the wine, Yvette. It has worn my stomach. Goodbye for now. Goodbye. I hope that is all you warned. His stomach. Pierre, what a thing to say. We have no cause to be jealous. I'd better not have.

I have enough troubles as it is. Tell me, my darling. What happened when you talked to Sergeant Duchamp? Exactly what I expected would happen. I said, Sergeant Duchamp, I would like to be assigned to this case. To the murders that happened in the Rue Morgue. And what did he say? He said, you? You solve a mystery like that one? You leave such things to your betters in the detective bureau. Of course you stood up to him.

Oh, yes. I'm not afraid of him. Not like the others. I argued with him. I explained that I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. Oh, yeah. And that I cannot wait to make her my wife. But I cannot make her my wife until I am promoted to gendarme first class. And one way to get promoted to gendarme first class would be for me to solve the murders in the Rue Morgue.

And what did he say to that? He laughed. You are a nut, he said. You are as much of a nut as C. Auguste Dupin. C. Auguste? Dupin. Who is this Monsieur Dupin? The fellow who solved the Marie-Rosier case. He is not a policeman. He's only a private citizen with a gift for solving mysteries that others can't solve. Oh. Anyhow, that's what I think even if everybody else at headquarters doesn't. But if he solved the Marie-Rosier case...

They say it was an accident. That case. It was as much of a mystifying puzzle, an unsolvable riddle as this one. And he explained it so simply, you wouldn't believe it. He'll never be able to explain what happened in the Les Panay place next door last night. No one could. You may be right. Especially now that we know there were two murderers, not one. Two murderers? Then you don't know? No. Yvette, I talked last night with some people in the crowd downstairs.

They said that while Madame and her daughter were screaming, they heard the voices of two men yelling and cursing at them. One murderer or two. How did they get out of that apartment? Perhaps your friend Monsieur Dupin could tell you. Go to him. Ask for his help. You forget. My sergeant has ordered me to leave everything to the detective bureau. You forget that unless you are promoted to gendarme first class, we cannot marry.

One day I shall become gendarme. One day? What one day? When? Jules de Bourg would marry me like that. That sailor? That sick sailor? You would marry him? It would be better than not marrying you. Oy, Yvette. Please. You do as I say. Pierre. Either you go or here. Take back your ring. Keep the ring. I'll go. Pierre? Pierre? Yvette? What are you doing here in Montmartre? I had to see you.

This couldn't wait. Pierre. I found this shut down to the door of my apartment. Huh. Looks like a note. It is a note. Read it. Be warned. Tell your boyfriend to forget about the Rue Morgue murders, or you will die the way Madame L'Espinet did. Yvette. I thought you had better see this and take it to Monsieur Japan at once. He will know what to do. Ah, yes. Yes, he would. Then take it to him as soon as you are off duty.

And Pierre. Yes. You did go to see Monsieur Japan, didn't you? Well... Well, no. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't have the nerve. But now... Well, now that your life is threatened... I'll go to see him and ask his help. I promise you, Yvette. I promise. Yes? Yes? Monsieur Dupin. C. Auguste Dupin. Yes? I... I am Pierre Mousset. Gendarme. Second class Pierre Mousset. Ah, yes. You wish my help in solving the murders in the Remarque.

Is it not so? You know why I'm here? Of course. But how? Well, you were the first policeman to reach the scene of the crime. You are a second class gendarme. And helping to solve the murders would result in a promotion. And inasmuch as you yearn to marry a very beautiful young woman named Yvette. That's amazing. That you should know all this without our ever having met. Amazing. It's anything but amazing, my friend.

It's simplicity itself. Everything I've just told you was fully reported in the newspapers. Now then, won't you come in? And so, what was to Pierre an amazing deduction turns out to be no deduction at all. Nor does C. Auguste Dupin turn out to be the formidable man Pierre thought he would be. As to whether Dupin can bring our two lovers happily together in marriage by solving the apparently insoluble mystery of the murders in the Rue Morgue, we shall see when I return shortly for Act II.

Well then, gendarme second class Pierre Musée has sought the help of C. Auguste Dupin in solving the murders in the Rue Morgue. Murder so baffling that any chance of solving the mystery seems impossible. Still in all, as you know, Dupin solved the mystery equally as puzzling. That of Marie Roget. So let's join Pierre now as he sits across from Monsieur Dupin in the latter's modest apartment. My dear fellow, I have little if any interest in solving crimes.

I wish only to be left alone to read my books and pursue one or two hobbies. And after all, crime is the business of the police. I know, I know. Well, thank you for seeing me at least. I'm sorry to have taken your time. Good day, Monsieur Dupin. Good day. I... No. Wait. Monsieur? I'm a fool, but I'm also French. I have no interest at all in solving crimes, but let me face it, I cannot remain untouched by the plight of young lovers.

Then you will help me to... If you solve this mystery, or more precisely, if I solve it for you and let you take the credit, then assuredly you'll be raised to gendarme first class and able to marry your beloved Yvette. Now, can you gain access to the Lispanet apartment? Of course. In that case, my dear fellow, let us go at once to the Rue Morgue. The door is unlocked here? Yes. As you can see, Monsieur Dupin, it was bolted on the inside when I broke the door.

The bolt was torn out of the wood. Small wonder. You're a big fellow. Ah. There. That large bloodstain on the rug. That's where she lay. Madame L'Espanet. With her head cut off. Hmm. Now, the bag of gold pieces... It lay right here, on the rug. The gold pieces were strewn all over the floor. Hmm. You know, I keep asking myself, why didn't the two murderers take the gold? What? There is no answer.

Because you're asking yourself the wrong question. The wrong question? Well, the answer to why they didn't take the gold is simple. They didn't want it. The question you should be asking is, why didn't they want it? Oh, yes. Yes, I see. Now, this is the fireplace where you found the body of the daughter Camille? Yes. Stuffed up the chimney. Feet first. The head down. Again, I keep asking, how powerful must these men have been to be able to do it?

To stuff a body up a chimney with such force that... I don't know how many bones were broken. My friend, you have a positive genius for asking the wrong questions. Again, it's not how they do it, but why did they do it? What reason would they have for doing it? I can't answer that. Maybe there was no reason. There's always a reason, Pierre. Now, what else was there? Ah, yes. The windows.

You say these are the only two windows in the apartment? The only two. None in the bathroom? None in the kitchen? None. Hmm. And these appear to be kept locked with a nail in each. Hmm? And let's see. I pull the nail out of this one and open the window. Hmm. Well, the murderers couldn't have escaped this way. Even if the windows had been open, it's a sheer drop four stories to the ground.

Hmm, so I see. I also see a drainpipe. But if the windows were locked... They could not have been locked. But they were. Oh, my friend, God also gave your brain. As with your eyes, use it. You know the murderers did not escape by way of the door. It was bolted on the inside and you broke it in. True enough. They could not have escaped by way of the chimney. It follows that they had to escape via the windows using the drainpipe to reach the ground.

But I tell you, the windows were locked just as they are locked now, each with a long nail. All the windows in this house are the same. A hole is bored through the window and into the sill. To lock the window, you push a nail through it into the sill. You just pull that nail out of this one. Not the other. You do that, my friend. You pull the nail out of the second window.

What for? To answer the question of how the murderers escaped. Now do as I say. Pull it out. What in the world is he? A broken nail. Huh. As simple as that. A broken nail. Ah, but it's not simple. The window only appeared to be locked. Well, I've seen enough. Let's go. You have the answer then, huh, Monsieur Dupin? Well, part of the answer. Only part. But give me time to think and...

Oh, look who's coming up the stairs. Hello, Pierre. What are you doing up here? Why don't you stay in your cellar, Jules? That is not your business. Yvette is my business and you are up here to see her. What if I am? I want you to stay away from her. Yvette is my fiancée. Take a reef in yourself, Pierre. You don't own her. Now you listen to me. You take your hands off me.

Take them all for... Gentlemen, gentlemen. What is all this? What's going on here? I want Jules Duberg to stay away from you and you from him. Oh, you do? Yes, I do, Yvette. You are my fiancée. But not your wife. And even if I were, I have a right to see anyone I please. Not while you are engaged to me. Oh, is that so? Well, let me tell you something. I will see anyone I wish whenever I wish.

Now, now, mademoiselle, you don't mean that. You're speaking out of anger. Who are you? And what right have you to interfere? My name is Dupin. Auguste Dupin. Monsieur Dupin? Pierre, you went to him. He did indeed, mademoiselle. And believe me, your fiancée is not only a man of determination, but brilliance, mademoiselle. Brilliance? Well, my dear fellow, the way you solved the puzzle of that locked window, brilliant, positively brilliant. You'll be in the detective bureau before you know it.

Oh, Pierre, that's wonderful, wonderful. Jules? Jules, I think it would be better if you do not come to see me anymore. Mais d'Ivette. Please, Jules, non plus. Well, have it your way. There are other ports of call. Oh, so there, Monsieur. Monsieur Dupin, can I offer you a glass of wine? Oh, thank you, but another time. You, you could tell me what perfume that is you're wearing. Nuit de perfume. Hmm. Passionate night.

It's well named, mademoiselle. A pleasure meeting you, mademoiselle. Pierre, if you would see me down to the streets? Oh, of course. But come back, Pierre, if you're off duty, that is. I am off duty, Yvette, and I shall be back. This fellow, Pierre, this Jules de Bourg, he's a sailor, isn't he? Yes. What's he doing here? Why isn't he at sea? I don't know. He's ill. Some sort of rare tropical disease he picked up in Borneo.

In Borneo? Hmm. Interesting. What's so interesting about it? You know, my friend, I told your fiancé you were brilliant enough to be a detective. Oh, I appreciate that, Monsieur Dupin. You did me such a favor of building me up in her eyes. Oh, but it's true, you know, you could be a detective. You're only to learn how to use your head and all your senses. My senses? All five of them. You see, everyone senses, taste, smell, sight, sound, touch, all these tell things, but few people listen.

For example, I noticed the scent of your fiancé's perfume. Have you? Well, I've always known she smelled exciting. Hmm, but beyond that you did not go. Now, you ask me why the fact that our sailor man, Gilles Dubourg, contracted the disease in Borneo is interesting to me. Yes, I do, I do. But you've no need to ask. It's as I said before, you know, but you don't know you know. Very well then.

I'll give you a lesson. Your first lesson in how to be a detective. Now, first, look. Then, see what you look at. Then, put two and two together and make sure they add up to four. Doc, for instance, put Gilles Dubourg together with drainpipes and see where it leads you. Gilles and drainpipes? I don't understand. You will. You will, if only you think, my friend. Think. Pierre. Mm-hmm. You must go now.

It's three in the morning. Oh, let me stay a little while longer. Just a little while. No, my darling. I must go to work in the morning. Oh, I need my sleep. And I'm certainly not getting any with you. Must be that perfume you wear. Oh, my perfume, not me. Of course it's you. Well, whether my perfume or me, off with you. all right. All right. Who will you be seeing, Monsieur Dupin, again?

Oh, I don't know. He said he wanted time to think that he would leave a message for me at headquarters. But, you know, Yvette, I'm beginning to wonder if I, if I need Dupin, if there was any need to go to him in the first place. What do you mean? After all, I solved the mystery of how the murderers escaped. One of those two windows wasn't locked at all. The nail was broken.

Brilliant. The murderers must have got to the ground by the drainpipe. The drainpipe. Oh, yes, yes, the drainpipe. But, even so, I've been thinking. No ordinary man could manage to slide down a drainpipe. He would have to be very strong. Yes, and agile. But you've thought of that, I'm sure. Hmm? Oh, of course, of course. Well, it's only a question of what kind of man would that be. Oh, I could think of any number.

You can? But, of course. A chimney sweep for one, a house painter for another, a circus performer, you know, an aerial artiste, a sailor like Jules de Bourg, say. They're used to climbing things. Yes, yes, that is a possibility. Jules de Bourg, a definite possibility. Now, now, now, you let jealousy blind you. Jules is a sick man for one thing and doesn't have the strength, anywhere near the strength to do what, what was done in that apartment.

Whoever committed those horrible murders was more than strong. He was powerful, unbelievably powerful. Oh, but come now, you, you must go. You must. I'm going, I'm going, I'm going. Lock yourself in. Don't worry, I will. I'm not taking any chances, not after getting that note. Yvette, you have nothing to fear. Dupin and I are working on this case and trust us to solve it in short order. I do trust you, my darling.

Oh, I do. Good night, my sweet. Good night. Good night. Good night, my lovely wife-to-be. Good night. Bolt the door. I was about to. There, it's bolted. Good night, Pierre. Yvette! Oh, my God! Yvette! That was bolted on the inside. Oh, dad! Help me! Yvette! Help me! Yvette! Yvette! Yvette! The horror that struck Madame L'Espanay and her daughter now strikes Yvette and once again Pierre faces the barrier of a door bolted on the inside.

You, like me, can imagine the terror of this young policeman as he steps back before flinging all his weight at that locked door, wondering what frightful sight will meet his gaze when he breaks it down. I'll return shortly for Act Three. What frightful monster haunts the Rue Morgue? What kind of fiend committed the butcheries on Madame L'Espanay and her daughter Camille? These are the questions young gendarme Pierre Murset has been seeking to answer.

Now it seems he's about to find those answers in the most horrible way imaginable. For behind the bolted door of her apartment in the Rue Morgue, his fiancée Yvette is herself in the grip of the fiend. Oh, Lord, Lord, help me. That's dark. Dark. The lamp. Where's the lamp? What? Here. Wait. Oh. What happened? Oh, my stomach. Yvette. Yvette. Where's that lamp? Light. The lamp. There. Yvette. Heaven help us all. Yvette.

My friend, compose yourself. Monsieur Dupin. There now, softly, softly. Now tell me all about it. Well, as I said, I broke the door and it was dark, but I could make out a shape. It was a huge, a monstrous man against the moonlit window. I saw him only for a second because he flung himself at me with such speed, such amazing speed. He took me off balance. He struck me. A powerful blow in the stomach.

Oh, heaven, I'm not yet recovered from it. Some wine, perhaps. No, no, no, thanks. Let me go on. Now, as I went down, I grabbed at him and here, look, I must have grabbed him by the hair on his head because I pulled these hairs out. Hmm. Black. Coarse. And I, I think I, I don't know, I lit a lamp. Yes, and I saw Yvette. Oh, my poor Yvette. Blood streaming down her cheek.

Bruises already beginning to blacken her face. You took her to the hospital, you said. Yes, I, I did. What is her condition? Well, it's not fatal, thank God. Not even very serious. Badly bruised, cut over her right eye, but she's going to be all right. The monster failed to make good his threat to kill her. We may indeed thank God for that. Yes. Well, at least we know more than we did before, Monsieur Dupin.

We know that the murderer is a big man, a huge man of unbelievable strength, and that he has black hair. We know a great deal more than that, yeah. We do? Well, I do, and so do you. Only, as I've said before, you don't know you know. Oh, Monsieur, Monsieur, I do not have your brilliant brain. Well, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you can solve this awful mystery, that you can save Yvette.

The murderer failed this time, but he'll try again. Well, it's my hope that he will, yes. Your hope? Surely you, as much as I, want to save Yvette's life. All of a certainty, my friend, but I'm afraid I can save it only by risking it. Yvette, you're sure you're comfortable on the couch? Yes, Pierre, thank you. Mademoiselle, are you strong enough to help me in a plan I have in mind? Now, wait, what kind of a plan?

A plan to trap the murderer. And I can help you trap him? You can be the bait. Now, now, now, just hold on a moment. Pierre, let me explain. There is nothing to explain. Whatever you have in mind, I refuse to let Yvette risk her life. Nonsense, Pierre. My life is in danger anyway. Precisely. The killer will strike again, but not for the reason you think. What do you mean? In that note, he sent Yvette.

He swore he would kill her if I did not stop trying to unmask him. But that is not the reason Yvette was attacked. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, she was not deliberately attacked at all. How can you say such a thing? Look at the bruises on her face, her arms, the gash over her eyes. Use your ears, my friend, no more than your eyes. I did not say Yvette was not attacked.

I said she was not deliberately attacked. Nor was she attacked by the person who wrote the note. Monsieur Dupin, you amaze me. How do you know all this? Because two plus two equal four if you put them together properly. I'll help you by showing you the facts once again. But you must add them up. First, we know that the killer entered the Lispanier apartment by the window and left by the window because it was not locked, though it appeared to be.

The nail was broken, yes. As you discovered, Pierre. Yes. Quite so, quite so. Now, this apartment is next door to the Lispanier apartment. Outside that window, it's a four-story drop to the backyard unless the murderer escaping slid down the drain pipe attached to the wall between these apartments. You follow? Yes. A sailor, Monsieur Dupin? A sailor, maybe, like Jules Dubu. There you go again, letting your jealousy... No, no, mademoiselle, he's altogether right.

A sailor could climb the drain pipe, so much for that fact. Now, here's another and a most revealing one. Why was the bag of gold pieces worth, as we've learned, more than four thousand dollars, why was that bag of gold not taken? Perhaps the murderer was in such a hurry to escape that... But there was no hurry. The door was bolted. There was plenty of time to escape. You said the gold wasn't taken because it wasn't wanted.

But what were the Lespaniers killed for, if not the money? Revenge? It couldn't be that. They stayed to themselves. They knew no one. Well, if not for money or revenge, what then? Nothing. Nothing? Monsieur Dupin, that makes no sense. No sense at all. Precisely. That's the answer. The Lespaniers murders were senseless. But that is impossible. The murderer must have killed for a reason. No, he did not. And why do you keep saying murderer when there were two?

You're forgetting one of the most important facts of all, the fact that two voices were heard in the Lespaniers apartment. One was definitely that of a Frenchman, but the other, oh, you shall see tonight if mademoiselle will indeed act as the fate. Of course. What do you want me to do? Do not lock your windows and do not bolt your doors. That is all. That is enough. Be calm, my friend. Your fiancé will not be alone.

We shall be with her, both of us armed with pistols. Oh, and, uh, one thing more, mademoiselle. Monsieur? That perfume of yours, uh, passionate night, and be sure to use it. Use a lot of it. If you say so, yes. Why? Uh, the murderer, I think, finds it, uh, enticing. If it comes to that, so do I. Two o'clock. No sign yet of the murderer. He'll come, of that I'm sure. Especially since mademoiselle did indeed use a sufficiency of her passionate night perfume.

It makes waiting a pleasure, mademoiselle. Thank you, Monsieur Gepin. It won't make Yvette's death a pleasure. She will not be harmed, I promise you. I have a pistol and so have you. I'll be sure to use it when I give the word. And, uh, Pierre. Yes? Shoot to kill. Depend on it. I shall certainly... Shh. Listen. Come back. Come back. I tell you. Let me get to the window. Yes. It's coming.

It's climbing the rain pipe. It? Damn, you come back. It's someone climbing the pipe behind it, trying to reach it, trying to stop it. You keep saying it. What do you mean it? You'll see in a moment. Get back. Well back. You, mademoiselle, you stay there. Pierre? Yes. The instant it appears in the window, I'll give the order to shoot. Remember, shoot to kill. Don't worry about that. Now, shoot. It's still alive.

Shoot again. Light the lamps while I get to the window and... Dubourg. Joe Dubourg. Come up. Don't try to escape. Dubourg. I was right. It is Joe Dubourg. Who else, my friend? He's the only sailor living in the Saint-Denis-Mars. Come in, Dubourg. Come in. Please. It was not my fault. It was not my fault. I'm well aware of that. You've nothing to fear, although you thought you had. On the floor? My God, what is it?

It's the Russian, the German, the Italian, the foreign voice. It was no language at all. I'm not as familiar as I might be with the ape family, Dubourg. What is it? A gorilla? A baboon? What? An orangotang. A what? An orangotang. A large ape found in the jungles of Borneo. And this? This is the monster that killed Madame L'Espanay and her daughter? Yes, yes, yes. And heaven help me. I am responsible.

There was nothing I could do, monsieur. Nothing. Well, you could have notified the police. You should have. They would have handled matters for you with dispatch, but you didn't do that because you still hoped to sell the ape, didn't you? Can you blame me? I'm a poor man and sick. I need money. I brought the orangotang back from Borneo in the hope of selling it. I paid to have the ship's gardener build a special box with air hose to hold it.

Paid money I could afford. And God help me, when I engaged those rooms in the cellar, I should have kept it in the box. But I felt sorry for it. It looked so human. It was so human that I let it out and kept it in one of the rooms. How did this beast come to kill Madame L'Espanay and her daughter? It escaped from the room I kept it in. I wasn't there when it happened.

I discovered it when I came home that night. I opened the door and I could not believe it. The ape was seated in front of a mirror shaving himself with my straight razor. Shaving himself? Well, trying to. They are great imitators, you know. I went to take the razor from him. I was not afraid of him. He was really harmless. But he ran from me out through the door and into the backyard.

You chased him? Of course. I was afraid he might cut himself with a razor. Well, his eye caught the window of the Espanay apartment because the light was on. Up the drainpipe he went and I after him. He tore the window open and went in and the screaming began. You wrote that note to Yvette, didn't you? That note that threatened her life? Yes, but only to frighten you of the case. I was afraid if you found out what had happened I would be sent to the guillotine.

I believe you. But why did you let the ape attack Yvette? I didn't. I couldn't control it. And it was drawn to her by that perfume she wears. My perfume? You? That time when we were kissing and holding each other close the ape smelled her perfume on me. What? What? I brought the scent of your perfume back to my cellar rooms. It was on my clothes. The ape couldn't get enough of smelling my jacket.

He liked the perfume, enjoyed it. And so when he escaped last night and tonight he followed the scent here. But he didn't mean to harm you any more than he meant to harm the Espanais. It was your screams and theirs that frightened him and made him do the horrible things he did. Jeux Dubourg, I hereby place you under arrest as the party responsible for the murders in the Rue Morgue. We will go at once to headquarters.

Come along. Oh, and, uh, Yvette. Yes, chérie? After Dubourg has been booked, I shall return and we will discuss the kissing and the holding each other close that left such a strong smell of passionate night on his jacket. All right, you Dubourg, get along. He's very angry with you, your fiancé. He will cool off. You will have no doubt satisfactory explanation for him? No, but there are other ways, Monsieur Dupin. There are other ways.

There are indeed, mademoiselle. There are indeed. Indeed.