I reserve the phrase “cunning plan” for those beyond the capabilities of Wile E. Coyote. Measurement using sound coming through a wall is hit and miss at best.
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How the crocodile got in the wall is the puzzler.
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Do what now?
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All thread is a steel rod that has threads all the way up, and you can buy it in various lengths. 1/2 inch is pretty beefy. You lower a length (determined by your headroom) and drop it almost all the way down. You then add a coupling and thread another length. By repeating this procedure you can get a 10 to 20 foot 1/2 inch spear behind your wall pretty easily. Extra points if you sharpen the first lengths tip.
Of course this requires that you can see the clock at the bottom of the chase, and watch for wires!Still easier to open the wall
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Or the Filk of this by Frank Hayes
My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor.
It was taller by half than the old man himself
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
And though years would congeal Grandpa’s brain to malt-o-meal
He’d one wish that would not be denied
For his will said to bury him in the clock
When the old man died.
Now grandfather’s grandfather built him the clock
And he built it like no clock before.
But the old so-and-so built it so high and wide
That we can’t fit it out through the door.
So when Grandma’d been calmed and Grandpa had been embalmed
We discovered the clock was too wide
But the goddamned cadaver had gotten jammed;
He was stuck inside.
So old grandpapa’s standing there in the hallway
At Nine-Seventeen Cherry Lane.
And he stands, the old cuss, making faces at us
Which we try to ignore just the same.
But we still think of him as we haggard, pale, and grim,
Stagger into the cold morning’s light,
'Cause at odd times he’s ringing the blasted chimes
Every goddamned night.
So at 3:22 A.M. (ding-dong, ding-dong)
“My god, there goes Gramps again!” (ding-dong, ding-dong)
At odd times, he’s ringing the blasted chimes
Every goddamned night.
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i helped my father remodel an old hotel back in my youth. they used to put a slot into the bathroom walls with a brass plate for disposing of old razor blades. when the wall cavity filled up they’d just move the slot over to the next void. they were mostly solid masses of rusted razor blades, but there were a few rings, keys, coins, and other random bits.
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what i don’t get is how he’s lived with this for so many years. i’m having a hard time just knowing about it.
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Might it not also start a fire in the wall?
Emp shockwave?
What brand is it?
You did good. Definitely worth it to avoid the smell.
We had a mouse invasion that we trapped until there was only one exceedingly wily one left. So we poisoned him in frustration. He got his revenge by crawling under the kitchen island to die and we only realised where he’d gone when the smell started. 
We took the ‘wait it out’ approach and had to cope with the stink of death and decomposition until the meagre pickings of a single mouse corpse proved too little for the blowfly maggots and they escaped across the floor … 
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But it’s not drywall. It’s lath and plaster.
And a pile of razor blades. (see downthread)
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Your friend was oh, so right, and you did the right thing. Even a single mouse can make a house stink for months, and you can also get “buzzing walls” full of thousands of blowflies.
Old fashioned in-wall mirrored bathroom medicine cabinets have a razor slot in the back. My recent bathroom remodel included removing several gallon pails of old razor blades from inside the walls and floor.
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All the more reason to fix the freaking wall!
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