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Inspector Clouseau: A beekeeper who has lost his voice, a cook who thinks he's a gardener, and a witness to a murder. Oh, yes. It is obvious to my trained eye that there is much more going on here than meets the ear. [A bee buzzes around Clouseau. He swings at it with the hand that is stuck in a steel gauntlet, which is gripping a mace. The mace smashes the piano next to him.] Before you are dismissed, Mr. Stifsticker, I suggest you count your bees. You may find that one of them is missing.
Housekeeper: You've ruined that piano!
Inspector Clouseau: What is the price of one piano compared to the terrible crime that's been committed here?
Housekeeper: But that's a priceless Steinway!
Inspector Clouseau: Not anymore. What is your name?
Housekeeper: Mrs. Leverlilly.
Inspector Clouseau: Mrs. Loveleaver, I would take a shrewd guess that you are the housekeeper. Am I right?
Housekeeper: I have been with Professor Fassbender for thirty years.
Inspector Clouseau: That would account for your exaggerated hysteria over a simple blemish to the furniture.
Housekeeper: Blemish?!
Inspector Clouseau: Whatever has happened to the piano can easily be righted. What has happened to Professor Fassbender and his daughter is another matter. And it is my job to bring the guilty party or parties to the justice. [Moves to stand with his back to the fireplace; the mace hangs close to the flames.] Now, then, what do we know? One, that Professor Fassbender and his daughter have been kidnap-ed. Two, that someone has kidnap-ed them. Three, that my hand is on fire.


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