Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter. The mute violin in its case; the piano standing alone in the empty room; the silent organ in a deserted church. What sweet songs have they sung in the hands of players who have long ago gone? A tall, dark haired and rather intense looking gentleman at about forty years old, walks briskly down the street. Something catches his eye, and he stops, a look of horror spreading across his face...