Hello, and welcome to another episode of nostalgic mystery radio. I'm your host, TVK, and it's my honor to bring you the radio shows of yesterday year.

For this episode, I bring you Dorothy L. Sayers is Lord Peter Wimsy, in Whose Body, which is a tale that first introduced Lord Peter to the world and sees him investigating

the case of a corpse in a batter-seed bathtub and a vanished oil millionaire. This will be a five-part

series. So sit back and relax, and I hope you enjoy this nostalgic mystery radio.

Thank you for listening. Lord Peter Wimsey. starring Ian Carmichael as Lord Peter and Peter Jones as Bunter, with Bernard Archard as Sir Julian Freak,

Whose Body by Dorothy L. Sairs, adapted by Chris Miller in five episodes.

Episode five, Bunter brings a letter.

Lord Peter Wimsy, investigating the appearance of an unidentified corpse in a Battersea bathroom and the simultaneous disappearance of a financier, Sir Ruben Levy, now knows that a murder has been committed.

To help confirm his suspicions as to the identity of the murderer, he's had his friend, Inspector Parker,

bring along to his flat an unsuspecting medical student

from St Luke's Hospital Battersea.

So you don't like detective stories then, Mr. Pickett?

Oh, yes, Lord Peter.

I was only saying that the thing I object to in him

is the way fellows remember every blooming thing

that's happened to them within the last six months. Reel it all off like a page of poetry they do. It ain't like that in real life. Well, no, but writers have to consider their readers, you see. The real conversation would be so long and twaddly and tedious nobody would have the patience to read it. The same with police statements, eh, old Parcabagabat.

Certainly.

A man doesn't say to the police.

Last Friday, I went... and twaddley and tedious, nobody would have the patience to read it. The same with police statements, eh, El Fargovon.

Certainly. A man doesn't say to the police. Last Friday I went out at 10 a.m. to buy a mutton shop, and as I was turning into Mortimer Street, I noticed a girl of about 22 with black hair and brown eyes, wearing a green jumper, check skirt, Panama hat and black shoes, riding a royal sunbeam cycle at about 10 miles an hour on the wrong side of the load.

No, it demands to that, of course, but it's really wormed out of him by a series of questions. Well, yes, but I bet you most people will find it jolly difficult to remember, even if you ask them the right questions. Well, I should, I know. Would you mean if I were to ask you, you were in a general sort of way, what you were doing, say a week ago today, last Tuesday that is, you wouldn't be able to tell me a thing about it, offhand?

I'm sure I shouldn't.

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