All language subtitles for Sherlock Holmes.S01E03.Shoscombe Old Place

And this is where
the Prince is stabled.

Oh, Sir Robert.

Sorry to disturb you.

This is Joe Barnes. Josiah's boy.

I know who he is, Mason.
What's he doing here?

He's keen to race horses.

I can ride, Sir Robert,
I'd love to be a jockey.

Would you?

More than anything in the world.

Well, that's good, very good.
But what has it got to do with me?

I, I thought I could work for you.

I have all the jockeys I need.

Please give me a chance, sir.

I'll muck out the stables,
clean the yard,

anything you want.

I'll think about it.

Thank you, Sir Robert.

Sir, at the house,
you better come quick.

Why?

There's trouble, sir.

I told you Lady Beatrice is unwell
and does not wish to be disturbed.

I think she'll make an
exception in my case.

I'm sorry, sir,

I have strict instructions.

Are you going to let me
speak to Lady Beatrice

or will I have to use force?

You'll answer to me first, Brewer.

This gentleman is most insistent
upon speaking to her ladyship, sir.

I warned you never to come here

our business can be discussed
at your office, not here.

I've tried to settle this
matter on many occasions.

As you well know, Sir Robert.

You've got a nerve coming
here after New Market.

I'm leaving nothing
to chance this time.

Perhaps Lady Beatrice will be
more prepared to listen to reason.

Your grievance is with me,
Brewer, and with no one else.

It would certainly be of
concern to Lady Beatrice.

Robert, who are these people?
And what do they want?

I'll tell you what I want,
Lady Beatrice.

Get him out of here.

I want what's rightfully mine.

Get out, go while you can still walk.

I'll be back, Lady Beatrice.
Good day to you.

I'm sorry you've
been upset, my dear.

What did he mean, Robert,
what's rightfully his?

Nothing for you to worry about.

But I do worry, Robert.
I know you too well.

He won't bother us again.

What should we do if
he does come back, sir?

If he does come back,
I'll deal with him myself.

Watson, do you know
a bit of racing?

I ought to, I paid for it with
about half my wound pension.

Then I make give you my
handy guide to the turf.

Your what?

Does the name Sir Robert
Norberton recall anything?

A little.

He's got a horse running
in the Champion Stakes.

He lives at Shoscombe Hall.

His stables are known locally
as Shoscombe Old Place.

But you don't know
the man himself?

I never met him if
that's what you mean.

He has a reputation of being
rather a dangerous man.

How dangerous?

I remember an
instance some months ago

when he horsewhipped a
man on New Market Heath.

Samuel Brewer,
the Carson Street moneylender.

What was the reason
for this assault?

Well, I imagine that Sir Robert
had a grudge against moneylenders.

Or is heavily in their debt.

Well, by all accounts
he's so far down Queer Street,

he may never find his way
back again.

I received a letter from John Mason,

the head trainer at Shoscombe.
It arrived an hour ago.

"Dear Mr. Holmes,"

"you will no doubt have read
of the-"

"disappearance a number of
days ago of Samuel Brewer."

"In the interests of my employer,"

"Sir Robert Norberton,
I should like to visit you"

"to discuss a matter
of the utmost urgency."

He suggests a convenient time?
And already is several minutes late.

Samuel Brewer's disappeared.

The newspapers make a lot of it, but
let's hear more about Shoscombe.

Well, the Shoscombe spaniels,

special pride of the
lady of Shoscombe Place.

The wife of Sir Robert
Norberton I presume.

No, no. He never married.
He lives with his widowed sister,

Lady Beatrice Folder.

You mean she lives with him?

No, no, the place belonged to
her late husband, Sir James.

What should be amiss at Shoscombe?

What indeed?

And here I expect is
the man who can tell us.

Yes?

My eggs were hard boiled.

There's a Mr. Mason to see you, sir.

Thank you,
Mrs. Hudson, show him in.

Sir.

Come this way.

You got my note, Mr. Holmes?

Yes.

But it explained nothing.

It was too delicate a thing for
me to put the details on paper.

It was too complicated.

You may rely on the discretion

of my friend and colleague,
Dr. Watson. Please sit down.

Thank you.

Mr. Holmes,

I think Sir Robert Norberton
has gone mad.

Please, this is Baker Street not
Harley Street. Why do you say so?

I believe Shoscombe Prince

and the Champion Stakes
have turned his brain.

Shoscombe Prince?

Watson, you're invaluable.
A horse?

The finest in England, sir.

The truth is Sir Robert
has got to win this race.

He's up to his neck,
and it's his last chance.

He's wagered everything he could
raise or borrow on the horse,

and he's holding off his creditors
till after the big race.

Oh, if the Prince fails him,
he's done for.

And you're assuming there's a connection
between Sir Robert's debts

and the disappearance of
Samuel Brewer.

He's Sir Robert's principal creditor,

and I don't mind admitting
there's no love lost between them.

Well, after what happened at
New Market. I'm not surprised.

But that was just the start.

Brewer showed his face
at the hall last week,

and Sir Robert flew at
him like a man possessed.

Said he'd deal with him if he ever
showed his face there again.

I presume he has not returned.

I don't know, sir.

Not for sure.

I see.

In the event of
financial catastrophe,

would Sir Robert have any claim
on his sister's estate?

None at all as far as I know.

She only has a life interest in it.
It reverts to her husband's brother

after her death.

In the meantime, her ladyship
draws the rents every year.

And her brother spends them?

That's about the size of it.

He must lead a most uneasy life.

Well, maybe so, but they've always
been the best of friends.

They have the same tastes.

She loves the horses
as much as he does.

Or at least she did.

Every day at about 12:00 she'd ride
down to the stables to see them.

And above all, she loved the Prince.

Good morning, Beatrice.

I can't wait to see their faces

when this delightful creature is
first past the post.

What say you, Mason?

The others won't stand
a chance, sir.

A three-length win,
wouldn't you say?

Three and a half, at least.

Just beware of raising your hopes
too high, Robert.

You're not the only one who'd like to
see his horse win the Champion Stakes.

I'm the only one with a horse
like Shoscombe Prince.

Why he's on such good form

you could ride him to
victory yourself, my dear.

I think not, Robert.
Our riding days are over.

You should be resting, my dear.

No, I'm fine, Robert.
Really, I'm fine.

You know what the doctor said.

You fuss even more than he does.

Jasper, good dog.

And how's Carrie today?

Oh, very well,
thank you, Sir Robert.

But for the past week, her ladyship
has driven past the stables

with never so much
as a good morning.

Do you think there's been
some sort of quarrel?

And a bitter, savage,
spiteful quarrel at that.

Now, he never goes near her.

She hardly leaves her room
except to take her daily drive.

And I assume that you have
witnessed such a disagreement?

Well, no, not exactly.

But why else would he give away
her pet spaniel, Mr. Holmes?

She loved that dog as
if it were her child.

Can you think of
any reason why-

Sir Robert would wish to upset
his sister in this fashion?

None at all. It's a cruel way to
treat a woman with a weak heart.

It's damn rotten.

I must say he does not appear

to be committing any
crime that I recognize.

So why did Sir Robert leave
the house at the dead of night,

and who was the man he met?

Go on.

Well, it was Stephens, the butler,

who saw him leave,
and he told me about it.

So the next night we followed him.

So who was it?

Samuel Brewer?

It was too dark to see his face.

When did Sir Robert give
away his sister's dog?

A week ago today.

Jasper was howling like
a banshee at the mill house,

but that was no good reason
for the master to do what he did.

Sir Robert.

I want it off this estate.

I don't care what you do with it

just as long as I never
have to see it again.

Yes, sir.

I gave the dog to Sandy Bain,
the jockey.

Right then, Jasper.

Let's you and I go for
a drink, hey. Come on.

Next morning, he took
it to Josiah Barnes,

the landlord at the
Green Dragon in Crendall.

Does Lady Beatrice have
a companion?

Her maid, Mr. Holmes.

Just the one?

Carrie Evans, but she's been
with her this five years.

And is no doubt devoted?

She is devoted enough,
and I won't say to whom.

I can't tell tales out of school.

Sir Robert is something
of a lady's man?

Do you not think the quarrel between
brother and sister may lie there?

Oh, that scandal has been
pretty clear for a long time.

But Lady Beatrice may
not have seen it before.

Let us suppose that she
suddenly found it out,

and she wants to be
rid of the hated maid.

He will not permit it,
She refuses to speak to him.

And Sir Robert in his anger
gives away her dog.

There's more to it
than that, Mr. Holmes.

Mr. Mason,
you have the advantage of us.

Perhaps there is something
that you have not told us.

There's a central heating
furnace in the cellar.

It's been off for some time,
but Sir Robert complained of cold.

And had it on again.
Harvey runs it, he's one of my lads.

He didn't like the
look of it, Mr. Holmes.

And he brought it to me last night.

How often does Harvey
attend the furnace?

He makes it up every evening,
and then he leaves it.

So anyone can visit
it during the night?

I suppose so. But the lad
has the key to the outer door.

I see.

What is the name of that
tavern you spoke of?

Green Dragon.

Is there any good fishing in
that part of Parkshire?

There's trout in the millstream
and pike in the lake.

That's good enough.
What do you make of it, Watson?

It's the upper contour of a femur.

Human?

Without a doubt.

Ah... It's a bluff, sir.

Anyone could have sent it.
It could be a tout.

I don't care who it is.

I need to know if there's
any truth in what he's written.

Carrie will be in charge of
the house while I'm away.

Carrie, sir?

Your concern must be
for the Prince's training.

Nothing is more important
than that.

Fifty-three. Fifty-four. Fifty-five.

Yes, ma'am?

Thank you, Stephens,
please take the tray now.

Fifty-six.

I leave at dawn.

Two rooms is it then, sir?

And two glasses of your best ale.

Right, sir.

Holmes?

Good day, gentlemen.

Hello, old fellow.

Oh, ladies, I'm so sorry
I didn't see you sitting there.

There's quite a bite in
the air, isn't there?

Oh, you'd much rather
be free, wouldn't you?

Landlord, is it really necessary
to keep this dog tied up like this?

If I didn't, sir, it'd be off
back to the owner in a jiffy.

You see, sir, Jasper's
a Shoscombe spaniel.

Oh, I should have known. You see,
I'm quite a dog enthusiast myself.

Wait, be careful with that luggage
or I'll skin you alive.

Don't you mind him, sirs?

He takes after his mother.

Out for a bit of fishing, hey?

We thought we might try and land
a pike or two at the Hole Lake.

You might find yourselves in the lake
before you were through.

Why is that?

That Sir Robert is
terrible jealous of anyone

who might be spying on his stables.

Well, we're not touts.

He's the sort that strikes first
and speaks afterwards.

Watson, I think we should take
a little walk before lunch.

Well, that's a splendid idea.

Do you think we could take
the dog with us, Landlord?

By all means, gentlemen, but mind
what I said about Sir Robert.

It's this way, Watson.

What about Sir Robert?

By my estimate, he should be
well on his way to York by now.

How do you know that?

Because I had a telegram sent to him.

Holmes, what have you been up to?

Of course, Palmer's the Favourite
is stabled somewhere near York.

I merely advised him
that the horse has shown

much improvement
in the last few days.

He won't be pleased when
he finds he's been duped.

I'm sure he'll be furious.

Jasper. Jasper.

Come on boy, hello boy.
How are you aye, hello.

Jasper. Here.

Do I know you?

No, but evidently, Jasper knows you.

You must be Sandy Bain.

Yes, sir.

It was you that brought Jasper
to the tavern last week.

That's right.

You're fond of animals?

They're all God's creatures, sir,
I won't see no harm come to them.

Mr. Mason seemed to think
that Jasper had a lucky escape.

He must have had a reason
for behaving like he did.

I'm sure Sir Robert
had the best of motives.

No, I'm talking about Jasper.
He's always such a quiet dog.

Well, something must
have happened to him.

At the millhouse?

No, sir.

The cellar?

No, sir, at the old church.

It was the same morning
I brought him to the Green Dragon.

It's an old ruin chapel

and under if there's e crypt
which hes e bed name among us.

Jasper.

Not that way, Jasper.
Jasper, come back.

Jasper, come back.

Jasper.

Jasper.

Jasper.

Come on, boy, come on,
I'm not playing games now.

Jasper.

How far are we away from the hall?

About a quarter of a mile, sir.

I'm correct in thinking that Lady
Beatrice takes a drive about midday?

Yes, sir.

Thank you, we've not
a moment to lose.

Come Jasper, come Watson,
come. Goodbye...

Stop the carriage, Watson,
stop the carriage.

Excuse me.

Could you direct us to
the Green Dragon in town?

Drive on, drive on.

Stay, stay there. Stay there.

Well, there's nothing we can do

until Lady Beatrice takes
her drive again tomorrow.

You still haven't explained
why I risked my life this afternoon.

To test a theory.

You must be very disappointed.
I was almost killed instead.

On the contrary, I think my little
experiment was quite successful.

I fail to see how.

The dog, Watson, the dog.

Did that suggest nothing to you?

Well, Carrie Evans is determined

to keep the dog and
her mistress apart so.

There is an alternative?

Yes, that Sir Robert has done away
with the moneylender,

Samuel Brewer. Don't forget...

Don't forget the human
bone that was found.

I haven't forgotten.

It's perfectly clear to me.
They've crossed swords before.

It's possible that Sir Robert
has gone too far this time,

and is guilty of murder,
what a boy...

What the boy found

is all that remains of
the unfortunate moneylender.

Oh, no, no, thank you.
I'm famished.

A fresh catch, Mr. Holmes.

Best I've seen in a long time.

These are deep waters, Watson.

Deep and rather dirty.

I would like to borrow
the key to the cellar.

For what purpose, Mr. Holmes?

To get inside.

Where is Sir Robert?

Well, Sir Robert left for York.

Early yesterday morning. He isn't
expected back till some time tonight.

I'd show you around the house myself,
but master left Carrie in charge,

and she won't let
anyone past the door.

He left a maid in
charge of the house?

I told you things were bad
between master and her ladyship.

Whereabouts is
Lady Beatrice's room?

It's on the ground floor, Mr. Holmes,
on account of her ladyship's heart.

Precisely on the ground floor where?

Second room in the corridor
beside the cellar passageway.

Has there been any change
in the running of the house

since we spoke at Baker Street?

None that I can think of,
apart from the fact that

I had to dismiss Harvey,
one of my stable lads.

Wasn't he the one that found
the bone in the furnace?

That's right.

What is the reason for his dismissal?

Well, he'd stolen some money
from somebody on the staff and so.

Ah, here's the Prince himself,
Mr. Holmes.

Every inch a champion,
wouldn't you say?

Yes, he's a very fine creature,
but you're the expert, Watson.

Hardly an expert, Holmes.

I am aware of the
Prince's bursts of speed

over a final furlong
but the fact is-

he hasn't yet won a major race.

Do you think he's still
in with a good chance?

If he's given the ground, then yes.

All right, all right, hold your horses.
I'm coming, I'm coming.

Good afternoon.
You must be Stephens.

That's right, sir.

I'm a doctor.

Well, Sir Robert asked
me to call on his sister

at the first opportunity.
I'm new to the area.

Well, he said nothing
about it to me, sir.

Well, he must have forgotten.

Hardly surprising for a
man as busy as Sir Robert.

I m afraid her ladyship is out

taking her carriage
exercise at the moment.

How long is she likely to be?

Well, no more than
half an hour, sir.

Well, in that case
I don't mind waiting.

You appear to be in
some pain yourself.

Well, it's the rheumatics, sir.

These old bones have taken
a pounding in their time.

Health's not what it was.

Now, why don't you tell me
about it?

Beg pardon, sir?

Well, now that I'm here,
I might as well make myself useful.

Oh, that's very kind of you, sir.
Thank you.

Well, it starts in
the bottom of my wrist.

And then it goes up...

In your shoulder?

S. B.

Of course, the worst time is
first thing in the morning.

My back and my legs
oh, stiff as a board.

And my feet... did I tell you
about my feet?

No.

Oh, I'll tell you about my feet.

Blocks of ice, like blocks of ice.
Can't feel them sometimes.

Your blood's not circulating
properly. It's a common problem.

And then...
there's the other trouble.

The other trouble?

You know, the other trouble.

I've tried everything but it doesn't
make any difference at all.

I'm in just as much
agony now as I ever was.

Roll it right up.

Oh, that'll be her ladyship.
She's back early.

Please excuse me, but I'm afraid.
I have another urgent appointment.

Almost there, my lady.

Thank you, Stephens,
we'll be all right now.

Thank you, Stephens.

Right you are, Miss.

Strange.

Holmes, thank goodness.

Fortunately, the bedroom
is on the ground floor.

Did you have any luck?

A few things are still unclear,
but before the night is out,

I hope to have solved the mystery
of Shoscombe Old Place.

If Samuel Brewer returned to
the hall to demand his money

he might have done so at night.
He could have been the man-

that Sir Robert
met at the old church.

Perhaps Sir Robert flew into
one of his rages, and killed him

and in a moment of sheer panic

tried to dispose of the body
by putting it into the furnace.

Hence, the note case.

Watson, the vibrations.

If perhaps maybe I admit
all the evidence we have so far

is purely circumstantial.

Resin.

Resin?

On an alcohol base.

Traces of it on a few strands of
hair found in Lady Beatrice's room.

Come, Watson. The telegram will not
keep Sir Robert away much longer.

Where are we going?

Sir Robert.

What happened while I was away?

Nothing, sir.

Don't lie to me, Mason. Something's
been going on behind my back.

Has anyone been around
here asking questions?

No one, sir.

Apart from some people
I met near Crendall.

I don't know their names.

What did you talk about?

Nothing much. They were
interested in the old church.

Fool.

Well, if Samuel Brewer
was not the victim,

why was his note case found
in the cellar of the hall?

Who else in the household
has the initials S. B.?

S. B., S. B.

Sandy Bain.

Harvey was dismissed

for stealing from other
members of the household.

One of his duties was to tend
to the furnace in the cellar.

Well, the fact remains that the body
was burned. If it wasn't Brewer's-

then whose was it?

Holmes.

What could you possibly be able to
find in a place like this?

The lead lining's been cut.

Just as I thought.

The bolts have been loosened.

Watson, I'm going to need
your help to open this.

Holmes, that's desecration.

Who are you? What are you doing
on my property?

Do you hear? Who are you?
What are you doing here?

Ah, Mr. Holmes, what's happened?

A good question, Mr. Mason. One
that should be directed at Sir Robert.

Disgusting contraptions.

How dare you? Get out.

I was going to join you for tea,
but I see I'm too late.

Get out this instant or
I'll call for Sir Robert.

Sir Robert knows that I'm here.
Please, Miss Evans, will you sit down?

I felt I couldn't visit
Shoscombe Old Place

without paying my
respects to Lady Beatrice.

Oh, you have brandy
with your tea?

For medicinal purposes, of course.

Yes, of course.

But is it enough, I wonder?

Enough for what?

Brandy revives the spirits.

I hardly think it is
sufficient to raise the dead.

Don't move, Miss Evans.

That should be comfortable enough
until your own doctor arrives.

Thank you.

I am Sherlock Holmes.
Perhaps my name is familiar to you.

I know appearances are against me,

but you must believe that
I could act in no other way.

I'm very happy to hear you say so.

But I fear your explanations
must be for the police.

Please, Sir Robert.

The responsibility for what
has been done is entirely mine.

Miss Evans and Joe Barnes were
merely following my instructions.

You must promise that
they will come to no harm.

I can promise you nothing.

But I will hear a plain
statement of the facts.

Very well, you've clearly gone
pretty deeply into my affairs

otherwise I should not have
found you where I did.

I've always known
that if Beatrice died,

the estate would revert
to my brother-in-law's family.

Everything would be seized,
including the stables and the horses.

Well, Mr. Holmes, my sister did die,
just a week ago.

And you told no one?

I had little alternative. If I told
the truth, I faced absolute ruin.

But if I could stave
things off until the race,

I knew all might be well.

Beatrice died of the heart condition
that had long afflicted her.

That will be for a coroner
to decide.

Her own doctor would
certify that for months,

her symptoms had
threatened such an end.

Joe Barnes came to
see me in search of work

a day or two before Beatrice died.

He seemed a trustworthy lad, and,

it came into my mind that
he might for a short time-

impersonate my dear sister.

It was but a case of appearing
daily in her carriage

for no one need enter her room
save Miss Evans.

Of course, I had to take
her into my confidence.

The whole deception
distressed me greatly,

but I could see no
other course to take.

Naturally, the body couldn't
remain in the bedroom.

On the first night, Joe and I carried
it out to the old mill house.

We were followed by her pet spaniel

which afterwards howled
continually at the door.

So I felt some safer place
was needed.

I got rid of the dog,

and we carried Beatrice
to the crypt of the church.

It seemed to me to be
no unworthy resting place

if we put her for a time in the coffin
of one of her husband's ancestors

lying in what is still
consecrated ground

I paid my respects
to her there every day.

As to the old relics
which we took from the coffin,

Joe and I removed them.

He descended
from the bedroom at night,

and burned them in the furnace.

Was it necessarily to
lay that monstrous trap?

I was determined that no one
should disturb my sister's rest.

But how you suspected her death,
I cannot imagine.

Well, yesterday, when Miss Evans
ordered the carriage to drive on,

I concluded that she
was afraid of something.

I suspected that
something was Jasper.

Miss Evans knew that dogs
do not make mistakes.

He would have known that
it wasn't his mistress.

But we must leave
all this for the police.

But why?

A day or two is all I need.
Say nothing yet I beg of you.

The race will have been run,
and my nightmare might be over.

I loved Beatrice with all my heart,

and there was no
indignity or irreverence.

I don't feel I have wronged the dead.

I realize that my
motives were selfish,

but my sister would not have
wished to see me destroyed.

That does not entitle
you to break the law.

Listen to this, Holmes.

"Following the success
of Shoscombe Prince"

"in yesterday's Champion Stakes,"

"Sir Robert has received sufficient
winnings to settle all his debts"

"with enough left to reestablish
him in a fair position in life."

"However, the victory was marred"

"by the sudden death of Sir Robert's
sister, Lady Beatrice Folder-"

"whose love of horses was
at least as great as his own."

"Even the elusive Samuel Brewer"

"has returned from
his hideaway in France"

"to send a telegram of congratulations
to Sir Robert on his win."

It transpires that even creditors
have their creditors.

It explains why Samuel Brewer was
so anxious to get his money back.

But to send a telegram,
such a bare faced hypocrisy.

So how much did you win
on Shoscombe Prince?

Twenty guineas.

That's disgraceful.

Champagne, Mrs. Hudson?

Of course, in the circumstances.

Well, that's very good of you,
but I've only won 20 guineas.

Plus my ten.

You're not the only one
that likes a plunge

on the horses
from time to time, Doctor.