All language subtitles for The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - S02E05 - The Red Headed League

Oh!

Sorry Holmes.

No, no!

You couldn't have come
at a better time.

I was...

I was afraid
you were engaged.

I am, very much so.

Dr. Watson shares my love of
all that is bizarre,

but outside the routine of
everyday existence.

It is at present
and impossible to say

that this case is an
instance of crime or no.

But suffice it to say that
I know as little

about Mr. Jay Beards Wilson
as you do yourself,

beyond the obvious facts.

That he has done manual labor
at sometime.

But it takes staff
that he has been to China.

And that he has clone a considerable
amount of writing lately.

How in the name of good fortune
did you know all that Mr. Holmes?

As true as gospel,
I once did manual labor.

I started off as a ship's carpenter.

Your hands, my good servant.

The muscles of your right hand
are more developed than the left.

And the writing?

What else could be indicated.

By the right cuffs are
very shiny for five inches.

And the left sleeve with
smooth pattern over the elbow

where you lean it on the desk...

But China?

The fish-

tattooed immediately
above his right wrist.

I have made a small study of
tattoo marks, Mr. Wilson,

and have even contributed
to the literature of the subject.

That trick of staining
the fish scales,

a delicate pink is
quite peculiar to China.

Where in addition I see a Chinese
coin hanging from his watch chain.

The matter becomes even more simple.

Well I never, I thought at first
it was something clever,

but now I see there's
nothing in it after all.

You know I begin to think
that my reputation

such as it is will suffer
shipwreck if I'm so candid.

"Omne ignotum pro magnifico."

Everything becomes
commonplace by explanation.

Watson, that is
a very loose translation.

Oh, please.

Show the doctor that advertisement.

Oh, there.

You could read it for yourself, sir.

"To the Red Headed League."

"On account of the request"

"of the late lscar Hopkins of
Lebanon Pennsylvania USA"

"there is a vacancy open which entitles
a member of the league to a salary"

"of four pounds a week
for purely nominal services."

"All red headed men sound
in body and mind"

"and above the age of 21 are eligible."

"Apply in person on Monday at 11:00"

"to Mr. Duncan Ross
at the offices of the League,"

"7 Popes Court Fleet Street."

Is this serious?

It is a little off
the beaten track, hey Watson.

Oh, would you make a note

of the paper and the date?

"Evening Standard" of
Saturday, the 27th of April,

Two months ago.

Do try this sitting.

Now, Mr. Wilson,

off you go at scratch and
tell us all about yourself.

Oh, well gentlemen

I have a small pawn broking business
in Sax Coburg Street,

near the city.

It's not a very large affair.

It just gives me a living.

I used to keep two assistants

but now I just keep the one.

And to tell you the truth
I'd have a job to make you pay

but the deeds willing to
come at half wages

so as to learn the business.

About two months ago...

What is the name
of the obliging youth?

Vincent,

Vincent Spalding

Oh, but he's not such
a youth either, Mr. Holmes.

It's difficult to say his age

but I couldn't wish
for a smarter assistant.

You seem most remarkably fortunate.

In having an employee who
comes under the market price,

I don't know that your assistant is not
as remarkable as your advertisement.

Oh, but he does have his faults.

However, he was such a fellow
for photography.

Always snapping away
with his camera

when he should be improving
his mind and then

diving down into the cellar
to develop the wretched things.

Still on the whole
he's a good worker.

No vice in him.

It was he who first showed me
the advertisement.

I wish to the lord I was
a red headed man, Mr. Wilson.

Why is that?

Well there's another vacancy
in the League of Red Headed Men.

I've never heard of it.

Well, I'd wonder at that-

you being so eligible yourself.

Nice money too.

A couple hundred a year

and the work's light...

Oh, there'll be thousands of
red headed men apply.

Oh, well, I doubt that sir.

Well, nobody with such a fine fiery color
as you're blessed with Mr. Wilson.

But then I suppose-

it's only worth your while
to put yourself out of the way

for sake of a few hundred pounds

Yes, sir.

Well I'm very much of a
stay at home sort of person.

Sometimes weeks on end before
I put my foot over the doormat

but this-

it looked interesting

I was intrigued

and young Vincent said
he'd come with me.

So, on Monday morning

we shut up the shop and

off we went.

Now, Vincent, let's go back.
I can't get by the crowd.

Courage, Mr. Wilson.

We're so near
and so much at stake.

Now you put your coat on

and come along with me.

Oi! Oi! Oi!

A little less noise,
please gentlemen.

Here, here,

what's your game?

Hey get out of here.

All right, off you go.

You next, get in.

Hey, where are you going?

Straight this way, come on.

This is Mr. Wilson.

Right in you go, Mr. Wilson.

Admirably suited.

Every requirement.

Very quiet.

Congratulations, Mr. Wilson.

It would be injustice to hesitate.

You will I'm sure excuse me
if I take an obvious precaution.

Tears in your eyes.

I perceive all is as it should be.

We have to be careful.

Twice deceived by wigs,
once by paint.

I could tell you
tales of cobblers wags

that would disgust you
with human nature.

My name is Duncan Ross.

I am myself a pension upon
a fund left by a noble benefactor.

I see you're about to question me
about Mr. Ethic Guya Hopkins.

He was himself red headed.

In his youth, he left London for America
where he made many millions of dollars.

On his death, it was found that he had
instructed a trustee in his will to

make life a little easier for the red
headed men in the town of his birth.

Wonderful color.

Now, what's your full name,
Mr. Wilson?

Jay Beards Wilson.

Jay Beards Wilson.

And are you a married man, now,
Mr. Wilson? Do you have a family?

No, I'm a widower.

No, I never had any family.

Oh dear,

sad to hear you say that.

The fund of course is for
the propagation and

spread of red headed men
as well as with their maintenance.

In another case
the objection might be fatal.

However, I've think we've got
to stretch a point

in favor of a man with
such a head of hair as yours.

The vacancy has been filled.

The vacancy is filled.

Now, off you go.

Sorry about that.

Off you go.

Now,

when would you be free
to start upon your new duties?

Oh, well it is rather awkward
as I do have a business already.

What would be the hours?

10:00 to 2:00.

Well the mornings are quiet.

I do have an assistant.

Yes, that would suit me very well.

And the money mentioned,
four pounds a week.

Correct.

And the work?

Purely nominal.

Yes, but what do you call
purely nominal?

Well, you have to stay
in the office

or at least in the building
the whole time.

If you leave you forfeit
your whole position forever.

The will is quite clear on that point.

Oh, I shouldn't dream of leaving.

No, excuse will avail.

Not a sickness, business,
anything else.

Here you will remain

or else lose your ability.

Oh, I am quite clear
on that point.

But what exactly is the work?

It is to copy out
the encyclopedia Britannica.

There is the first volume.

You will supply the ink,
paper and pen.

We will supply
this desk and chair.

Now would you be free to
start next Monday morning?

Oh, yes, certainly.

Then-

once again my congratulations,
Mr. Jay Beards Wilson

on the most important position
you've been fortunate enough to gain.

Wonderful head of hair.

Good bye, Mr. Wilson.

Well done, Mr. Wilson.
Well done indeed.

This is the quickest way out, sir.

This way.

When I got home the whole thing
seemed on reflection

to be quite ridiculous.

Why?

Who would make such
an extraordinary will?

Not a very generous millionaire to make
you buy your own pen, ink, and paper.

Exactly, Mr. Holmes.

I soon persuaded myself
it was some great hoax or fraud.

And then when Monday morning
came along

it seemed stupid to
turn down a good job, so...

off I went and bought
a penny bottle of ink and a pen

and seven sheets of
fools kept paper, and

I set off for Popes Core.

Good morning,
Mr. Wilson and welcome.

Good morning,

Well to my surprise and delight

everything was as right as possible.

The table was set up ready for me

and Mr. Duncan Ross was there
to see I got fairly to work.

My employment had truly begun.

The schedule never varied.

My work started at 10:00
and ended at 2:00

with a small break for
my lunch at half past 12:00.

Every Saturday at 2:00,

Mr. Ross would come in
and give me my money.

Compliment me upon
the amount that I'd written

and then we'd both leave.

Mr. Ross locking the door afterwards.

The artichokes I found were
positively fascinating, you know

and they have a kind of
a bloom on them but...

"Annibal" I also thought was A
but that was H...

Yes, yes, good morning...

Oh, the work was very interesting.

Abacus,

abbey,

architecture,

acts of the Apostles,

adulteration,

anatomy,

apes,

aqueducts.

After eight weeks, I'd fairly
dealt with the letter "A"

and was hoping the diligence
to get onto "B"

when suddenly this morning
the whole business came to end.

I went to my work as usual but
the door was shut and locked

with a little square of cardboard
hammered onto the middle panel.

Oh, excuse me.

Have you seen Mr. Duncan Ross
this morning?

Ross...

Ross?

Never heard of a gentleman
with that name, sir.

And my memory is good.

It's very good,
it's infallible to me.

No, the gentleman in number seven.

Ah, the gentleman
who is red headed?

Yes, yes.

Uh, yes, yes, yes, gone.

Gone?

Mr. William Morris,
solicitor using my room as

a temporary convenience until
his new premises were ready.

Moved out yesterday, paid in full,
doesn't owe a penny.

Mr. Morris,
where can I find him?

At his new offices.

William Morris...

17 King Edwards Street.

Near St. Paul's.

Oh, thank you.

I don't see that there's
anything very funny about it.

If all you can do is laugh at me,
well I can go elsewhere.

No, Mr. Wilson please,
please sit down.

I wouldn't miss this case
for the world.

It is most refreshingly unusual.

I was so incensed with the forgery of
deceit that I came straight to you, sir.

Having heard of your great reputation
for helping poor people in distress.

Mr. Wilson, forgive me.

You know Mr. Wilson,

I really don't think that
you've got any great grievance

against this extraordinary league.

On the contrary,
you've been very well paid

to say nothing of the-

detailed knowledge

which you've acquired on
every subject under the letter A.

Yes, but...

what's the object of them
playing this prank on me?

That is what I want to know.

This assistant of yours,

how long has he been with you?

Well about three months.

How did he come?

With the answer to an advertisement.

Was he the only applicant?

No, I had 12 others.

Why did you pick him?

Well he...

he was handy

and would come cheap.

At half wages in fact.

Yes.

What's he like,

this Vincent Spalding?

Oh...

well he's tall,

slightly built

and he's very quick in his ways.

He's got no hair on his face.

He's got a white splash of
acid on his forehead.

Uh, have you ever observed
whether his ears

have been pierced for earrings?

Yes.

Yes, he told me a gypsy had done
it for him, when he was a lad.

He is still with you?

Yes, I just left him.

Mr. Wilson,

you will be at your shop
if I should need you?

Well, I had thought of shutting up
shop at dinner time today,

because Vincent had suggested

I spend the rest of the weekend
with my sister in Barking.

This whole business has upset

my nerves very much.

Well you enjoy
a restful weekend in Barking

Today's Saturday.

By Monday, we should
have a conclusion for you.

In the matter of your fee...

Don't worry about that.

I believe it will be paid for
by another.

Good day to you, Mr. Wilson.

What do you make of it all
Watson?

I make nothing of it.

Most mysterious business.

Yet there are graver issues

hanging from this affair
then that first had appeared.

What are you going to do?

To smoke,

it is quite a three pipe problem.

And I beg that you won't speak
to me for 50 minutes.

The business of the Red Headed
League is concluded, sir.

Satisfactorily, I trust.

Most satisfactorily professor,

I am pleased to report.

Good.

Come,

Watson.

Excuse me.

Can you tell me the way
to the Strand from here?

Third right, fourth left, sir.

Thank you.

Holmes?

Holmes, I could have told you that.

No doubt, Watson.

What is it?

And why did you beat
the pavement with your stick?

Watson we are spies

in an enemy's territory.

It's a hobby of mine to have
an exact knowledge of London.

Now there's Mortimore's,
the tobacconist.

The little newspaper shop.

Coburg Branch,
the City and Suburban Bank.

McFarland's Carriage Building Depot

and the vegetarian restaurant
around the corner.

Watson, commit to memory.

It is just possible that
we're being observed.

A considerable crime's
in contemplation.

Today being Saturday,
somewhat complicates matters.

But, now doctor...

Our work is done!
It is time we had some play.

Sarasate is playing at
Sir James Hall, this afternoon.

A sandwich and a cup of coffee?

And then, off to violin land

with all its sweetness,
delicacy and harmony.

And no red headed clients
to vex us with their conundrums.

All the afternoon,
he sat in the stalls

wrapped in
the most perfect happiness

while his gently smiling face,

and his languid dreamy eyes

were as unlike those of Holmes,
the sleuth hound

as it was possible to conceive.

When I saw him,

so enwrapped in music.

I felt that an evil time
might be coming upon

those he had set himself
to hunt down.

Excellent Watson.

You have a future as a cartographer.

That will be Athelney Jones.

I thought it was well enough to have
someone from Scotland Yard with us.

He's an absolute imbecile
at his profession,

but he does have
the tenacity of a lobster,

when he gets his claws
into someone.

Good evening, Jones.

So, we're working in couples again,
Mr. Holmes.

Our friend is a wonderful man
for starting a chase.

All he needs is an old dog
to help him do the running down.

Mr. Merryweather, my friend
and college, Dr. Watson.

How do you do, sir?

I only hope a wild goose may not
prove to be the end of our chase.

I'm not personally in favor of
amateur criminal investigation.

You might place considerable
confidence in Mr. Holmes.

Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones.

He has his own little methods,

which if he won't mind me saying so,
are a little theoretical and fantastic,

but he has the makings
of a detective in him.

But I do say
as I've said before,

the Colburg Branch of the Bank is as
well secured as any building in London.

There isn't a possibility that
it could be broken into.

Even insurance assessors
agree on that point.

And you sir should know

being not only the resident
manager but also the director.

I should know and I do know.

And what is more,
this is the first time

for 7 and 12 years that I've missed my
Saturday night of whiskey at my club.

And I find myself
extremely inconvenienced.

I think that you will find
the game tonight

much more exciting
and the stake

will be for many, many
thousands of pounds.

What will be my reward be,
Mr. Homes?

A young man,

called Clay.

John Clay?

Oh, how I'd like to get
my hands on that devil.

You shall.

This young fellow's
a gentleman as Mr. Holmes says,

but he's turned against his class.

He's as cunning as the devil.

Slippery as an eel

and he's turned crib cracking
and forgery into a fine art.

His grandfather

was a royal duke

and he himself was educated
at Eaton and Oxford.

So Watson,

bring the gun.

Come gentlemen,

our cab is below.

There are only two keys
to the vault.

I have one,

the chairman holds the other
in his personal safe.

Well, you are certainly not
vulnerable from above.

Nor from below.

Just a minute. I'm going to ask you
to be a little more quiet, please.

Might I get you to sit on
one of those boxes

and not to interfere?

There is no way in which a thief
could break into this bank.

Is there a special reason

why a thief should want
to break into this bank?

Nothing particularly...

Something in the past few months?

Something that you
had concealed from us?

The information I have
is confidential

known only to
the directors of the bank.

It is not to be divulged to
members of the public,

not even amateur detectives.

Private consulting detective,

Mr. Merryweather.

Unique in the annuls of crime,
I believe,

isn't that so inspector?

Yes, doctor.

I advise you to cooperate
with Mr. Holmes.

Especially as at this moment,
I am trying to save your skin

and that of your fellow directors.

So what is it?

Our French gold.

We had occasion some months ago
to strengthen our resources

and borrowed for that purpose 60,000
Napoleons from the bank of France.

Therefore our reserve of bullion

is much larger than is usual

in such a branch of the bank.

Where is this gold?

The crates

upon which Dr. Watson sits

contain 30,000 Napoleons

wrapped between layers of lead foil.

May we see it?

This is much bolder

and larger in conception
than I had first thought.

Wouldn't you say Jones?

I would indeed.

This Clay's more of
an amateur adventurer

or spur of the moment criminal.

Long planning is not Clay's type
at all sir, not at all.

Unless he's a pawn

in a much larger game.

Mr. Merryweather,
someone has had access to

information of
the most confidential sort.

Careful plans have been made.

A mastermind

has been at work.

Are you suggesting that...

I am suggesting that it bears

the hallmarks of
Professor Moriarity's work.

Moriarity?

And who is this Moriarity?

We don't really know, sir.

That is neither the police
nor I think

Mr. Sherlock Holmes here
has ever set eyes on him.

His name echoes and re-echoes
throughout the underworld.

It appears that he's a man
of good birth

and an excellent education,

but...

he has hereditary tendencies
of the most-

diabolical kind.

A criminal strain

runs in his blood

which has increased

and rendered infinitely more dangerous

by his extraordinary mental powers.

He's the organizer,

the half that is evil,

and nearly all that is
undetected in this-

great city.

He-

is never caught.

His agent is caught,

but the central power

is never caught,

certainly even suspected.

We shall not see
the professor tonight.

The only way for tonight's enemy to
escape is through the pawn brokers.

There's already an inspector
at the doors.

Gentlemen.

We have only a few moments before...

Positions...

Would you be so kind
as to put out this lamp.

And sit in the dark?

I'm afraid so.

We cannot risk
the presence of light.

When I shine the light,

close in swiftly...

If they fire, have no compassion
about shooting them down.

Great Scott.

Jump at it. jump.

It's no good, John Clay.

You have no chance at all.

So I see...

Though I fancy my pal's all right.

At this moment,

he is running into the welcoming
arms of the police.

You seem to have done the thing
very completely.

I must compliment you.

And I you.

I'm Sherlock Holmes,
a private investigator.

I didn't for a moment suspect
your being a policeman,

Mr. Holmes.

Come on, hold that one off
for the Darby's.

I beg you to take
your filthy hands off me.

You may not be aware that
I have royal blood in my veins

and be so kind as to say "sir" and
"please" when you address me.

All right.

Would you please sir,
mind marching upstairs

while we get a cab to transport
your highness to the police station?

That's better.

Gentlemen.

Oh, one question, Mr. Clay.

Am I right in thinking
that professor Moriarity

was somewhere behind the idea of
the Red Headed League?

I suggest you keep that name
off your lips, Mr. Holmes,

if you value your future well-being.

Really gentlemen,

I don't know what to say.

Please forgive me, Mr. Holmes,
for ever doubting your-

outstanding and brilliant qualities.

There is no doubt you've detected and
defeated in the most complete manner

one of the boldest attempts
at bank robbery

that has ever come
within my experience.

Mr. Merryweather, I have then some
small expense over this matter,

I shall expect the bank

to refund.

Of course.

Of course...

It won't,

do you know...

It won't do.

No, Professor.

I'm sorry, we failed you.

Sherlock Holmes...

Holmes is a mere amateur

in the field of detection.

Still,

he seems a clever man

or a lucky one,

and he has a positive talent

for getting in my way.

Should he be removed?

It may be necessary.

It would be disappointing.

I find him interesting.

I believe this is the third time

he has incommoded me.

If this continues then certainly
something will have to be clone

to encourage Mr. Holmes
either to withdraw

or stand clear.

Thank you.

Morning, Constable.

Beg your pardon, Dr. Watson.

This has all been
too much for me.

My clients respect me
as a man of confidence

but where's the confidence
left here.

I'm utterly ruined...

Oh, cheer up, Mr. Wilson.

You'll feel better
when you've cleared up the mess.

Well, that's all very well...

And Mr. Holmes asked me
to give you this.

50 sovereigns

with the compliments of
the City and Suburban Bank.

Well, that's fair enough.

Oh, Dr. Watson,
this is more than acceptable.

And my compliments to
Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

And he sends the same to you,
Mr. Wilson.

And a word of advice...

Next time you engage an assistant,

pay him the proper wage.

Good day to you.

Oh,

Holmes,

I trust I am not more dense
than my neighbors

and yet here I have seen
what you have seen,

heard what you have heard

and yet you have seen clearly
not only what had happened,

but what was about to happen

while to me the whole business
was still confused and grotesque.

Dr. Watson recollect.

When I heard that the assistant
had come for half wages,

it was obvious-

that he had some motive
for securing the situation.

Yes, but how did you know
what his motive was?

Had there been a woman in the house,

I would have suspected immediately
if some vulgar intrigue.

But when I heard from Mr. Wilson

about the acid stain and
the pierced ears,

I knew-

that Vincent Spalding and John Clay
were the same person.

But why was Clay there?

The photography gave you the clue.

Exactly.

The cellar.

He was working on something
in the cellar.

Something which took
many hours a day

for two months on end.

He was tunneling

but where to?

When I tapped my stick on the
pavement in the street that day,

I was ascertaining

whether the tunnel stretched
in front or behind the building

It was in front,

towards the bank.

Could you tell me the way
to the strand from here?

I recognized Clay immediately
and delayed him

to have time to examine his knees.

There he spoke clearly of
many hours of tunneling.

No doubt linking up with a maze of
sewers beneath Saxe Coburg Square.

When they closed
the Red Headed League offices,

it was a sign they no longer
cared about-

Jay Beards Wilson's presence.
In other words,-

the tunnel was complete.

And that they would make the attempt
on a Saturday was just a guess?

Watson,

you disappoint me.

I never guess.

Saturday's an excellent night
for stealing bullion.

It gives you a full day to escape.

Thank you, gentlemen.

Thank you.

Oh, you've reasoned it out
beautifully Holmes.

It's so long a chain
and yet every link rings true.

It saved me from irony.

You know sometimes I think-

my whole life is spent
in one long effort

to escape from the common
places of existence.

No, no.

You are a benefactor of
the race, Holmes.

Well maybe it is of
some little use after all.

'L'homme c'est rien,"

L'oeuvre c'est tout."

as (French author) Gustave Flaubert wrote
to (another French author) George Sand.

(This is a misquotation, by the way the line is actually
"L'homme n'est rien l'oeuvre c'est tout,"
which means, "The man is nothing. The work is all."

In other words, Holmes is being pretty modest here:
he's less important than the results that he gets.)