4x-xx-xx ep06 A Terribly Strange Bed

Last, born by speaker again the immortal tale. A terribly strange bed. Jack Westcott was the best friend I ever had. He was the gayest of people. That was until we left America. I was writing a book about historic murder cases, and it come to Paris to do some research work.

Jack was fascinated with my work. Strangely fascinated, almost horribly so. He enjoyed finding twisted minds and probing them. His hunger for crime was bound to end in tragedy. On the last evening of our visit in Paris, we were walking on the left bank of the same river when Jack noticed a crowd gathered about our old friend,

the head of the Paris police force, Inspector Duvall. I was in hurried return to the hotel to finish writing my murder manuscript. The deadline was in the morning, but Jack insisted. What's the excitement all about Duvall?

Well, oh, Mr. Westcott. Still looking for ancient murders, Mr. Manning? Not tonight, Deval. Angel or otherwise? Mm-hmm, dig around with me, Manning. I'll show you a murder, the likes of which you've never seen before.

Okay, boys. Drag it out of the river. What is it, Inspector? It goes, Miss Everskart. A corpse that's been squashed thin as a piece of paper. Let's see it. What do you mean, thin as a piece of paper?

Bring it over here, boys. Right under the gaslight. Ee! Horrible looking thing, isn't it? Horrible and fascinating. It looks like I got squeezed in a giant press. We've had an epidemic of these corpses lately.

And the idea was doing it? Not even a vague notion, Mr. Mc... Hey! Hey you! You the fat man! You mean me, Inspector? Yes, I mean you fat man. How come you're always around when we pull the corpse out of the river?