All language subtitles for Sherlock Holmes s03e04 The Second Stain.eng

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One Tuesday
morning in autumn

at precisely
half past eight,

Sherlock Holmes received
a mysterious message

that two men of great
public distinction

would be visiting
Baker's Street

in their private capacity

and under circumstances

of complete secrecy.

Holmes, they're here.

In brief, Mr. Holmes.

A document has
been stolen

from my private
dispatch box

and when I
discovered my loss,

which was at eight
o'clock this morning,

I at once informed
the Prime Minister.

It was at his suggestion

that we both come to you.

You have informed
the police?

No sir, we have
not done so,

nor is it possible
that we should do so.

To inform the police
must, in the long run,

mean to inform the public.

And that is what we

particularly
desire to avoid.

And why, sir?

Because the document
in question

is of such
immense importance

that its publication
might very easily,

I might almost
say probably,

lead to European
complications

of the utmost moment.

Unless its recovery
is attended

by the utmost secrecy,

then it may as well not
be recovered at all,

for all that is aimed at

by those who have taken it

is that its contents

should be generally known.

I understand.

Watson,

do sit down.

Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope,

I'd be much obliged
if you would tell me

the exact
circumstances

under which this
document disappeared.

As Secretary of State
for European affairs,

I received the
letter six days ago.

It was a letter from
the foreign potentate

you understand.

It was of such importance

that I never left
it in my safe,

but I have taken each
evening from my office,

back to my house in
Whitehall Terrace,

and kept it in my bedroom,

locked in my dispatch box.

And you are sure it
was there last night?

Yes, I'm quite
certain of that fact.

I actually opened
the dispatch box

while I was
dressing for dinner,

and I saw the
letter inside.

It then remained upon
my bedside table.

Both my wife and I
are light sleepers

and are prepared to
swear that no one

could have entered the
room during the night.

And yet this morning
the paper is gone.

What time did you dine?

Seven-thirty.

How long was it before
you went to bed?

My wife had gone
to the theatre.

I had waited up for her.

It was eleven-thirty
before we went our room.

So for four hours

the dispatch box
had lain unguarded?

Mr. Holmes,

no one is ever permitted
to enter that room

save the housemaid
in the morning,

and my valet during
the rest of the day.

They are both
trusty servants

who have been with
us for many years.

Besides,

neither of them could
have possibly known

that there was anything

more valuable
than the ordinary

departmental
papers in my box.

Surely your wife knew?

Mr. Holmes?

I have long
known how high

Mr. Hope's sense
of public duty.

I am convinced that in the
case of this importance

it would rise
superior to the most

intimate domestic ties.

You do me no more than
justice, Prime Minister.

Until this morning I have
never breathed one word

to my wife upon
this matter.

Who is there in England

who did know the
existence of this letter?

Each member of the Cabinet

was informed of
it yesterday

but the pledge
of secrecy,

which attends every
Cabinet meeting,

was increased by
the solemn warning

given by the
Prime Minister.

My God,

to think that
within a few hours

I myself should
have lost it.

Besides the members
of the Cabinet

there are two,

possibly three,

departmental officials

who know of the letter.

No one else in
England, I assure you.

But abroad?

I believe that
no one abroad

has seen the letter

except the man
who wrote it.

I am well convinced
that his ministers

that the usual
official channels

have not been employed
in this case.

Now, sir, I must ask
you more particularly

what this document is,

and why its
disappearance

should have such
momentous consequences?

Mr. Holmes,

the envelope is
a long, thin one

of pale blue color.

There's a seal of red wax

stamped with a
crouching lion.

It is addressed in
large, bold handwriting...

Interesting and indeed

essential as
these details are,

my inquiries must go more
to the root of things.

What was the letter?

That is a State secret
of the utmost importance,

which we cannot tell you,

nor do I see that
it is necessary.

If by the powers which
you are said to possess

you can find such an
envelope as I describe

with its enclosure

then you will
have deserved well of your country,

and earned any reward,

which it is within
our power to bestow.

Gentlemen,

you are two of the most

busy men in the country

and in my own small way

I have a good many
calls upon me.

I regret exceedingly

that I am unable to help
you in this matter,

and any continuation
of this interview

would be a waste of time.

I am not accustomed
sir to such things.

Dear Mr. Holmes,

we must accept your terms.

No doubt you are right,

and it is unreasonable
for us to expect you

to act unless you have
our full confidence.

I agree with you,
Prime Minister.

Then I will tell you,

relying entirely
upon your honor

and that of your
colleague, Dr. Watson.

I must appeal to your
patriotism also,

for I cannot imagine

a greater misfortune
for this country

than that this affair
should come out.

You may safely trust us.

The letter, then,

is from a certain
foreign potentate

who has been ruffled
by some recent

colonial developments
of this country.

It is written hurriedly

and upon his own
responsibility entirely.

At the same time

it is couched in so
unfortunate a manner

that its publication
would undoubtedly

lead to the most dangerous
feeling in this country.

There would be
such ferment, sir

that I do not
hesitate to say

that within a week

of the publication
of this letter

this country would be
involved in a great war.

And it is this letter,

which may well mean
the expenditure

of a thousand
million pounds

and the lives

of a hundred
thousand men.

Have you informed
the sender?

A cipher telegraph
has been dispatched.

Perhaps he desires the
publication of the letter.

No, Doctor, we have
strong reason to believe

that he already
understands that he has

acted in an indiscreet
and hotheaded manner.

It would be a far
greater blow to him

and his country than to us

if this letter
were to come out.

If this is so,

in who's interest
is it that the letter should come out?

Why should anyone desire
to steal it or publish it?

There, Doctor Watson, you
take me into the realms

of high international
politics.

But if you consider
the European situation

you will have
no difficulty

in perceiving the motive.

The whole of Europe
is an armed camp.

Great Britain
holds the scales.

If Britain were
driven into war

with one confederacy,

it would assure the
supremacy of the other,

whether they were joined
in the war or not.

So does the enemies
of this potentate

who want to secure and
publish this letter,

so as to make a breach

between his
country and ours?

Yes, sir.

And to whom would
the document be sent

if it fell into
the wrong hands?

To any of the great
chancelleries of Europe.

It is probably speeding
its way thither

at the present instant

as fast as steam
can take it.

It is your misfortune,
my dear fellow.

No one can blame you.

There's no precaution
which you have neglected.

But now, Mr. Holmes,

you are in full
possession of the facts.

What course do
you recommend?

You think that if this
document is not recovered

there will be war?

I think it is
very probable.

Then, sir,
prepare for war.

That is a hard
saying, Mr. Holmes.

Consider the facts.

It seems no doubt this
document was taken

between half past seven

and half past eleven
yesterday evening,

so where can it be now?

No one has any
reason to retain it.

It has been passed from
hand to hand rapidly

to those who need it

and who will pay
well for it.

What chance do we have

to overtake it or
even trace it?

It is beyond our reach.

What you say is perfectly
logical, Mr. Holmes.

I feel that the matter is
indeed out of our hands.

Meanwhile, Hope,

we cannot ignore all
our other duties

on account of this
one misfortune.

Should there be any
fresh developments

during the day we will
communicate with you

and you no doubt
will let us know

the results of your
own inquiries.

Thank you.

Telegraph!

Westminster Murder!

Westminster Murder!

Telegraph!

Westminster Murder!

Telegraph!

The situation
is desperate,

but not hopeless.

There are only three men

capable of playing
so bold a game

Oberstein, La Rothiere,
and Eduardo Lucas.

Even now, if we
could be sure

which one of
them has taken it,

it is just possible

that it has not passed
out of their hands.

It's a question of money
with these fellows,

isn't it?

Well we have the British
Treasure behind us.

Oh if it's on the
market I'll buy it

if it means another
penny on the income tax.

Come in.

Excuse, Mr. Holmes.

Mrs. Hudson, what is it?

Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope,

show her in.

Has my husband been
here, Mr. Holmes?

Madam, yes he
has been here.

Mr. Holmes,

I implore you

not to tell him
I came here.

Your ladyship puts me

in a very
delicate position.

I beg of you to sit down

and tell me what
it is you desire

but I cannot make you any
unconditional promise.

Gentlemen, I will
speak frankly to you

in the hope that
it will induce you

to speak
frankly in return.

There is complete
confidence

between my
husband and myself

on all matters except one.

That one is politics.

On this his
lips are sealed.

He tells me nothing.

Now, I am aware that
there was a most

deplorable occurrence
in our house last night.

I know that a paper
has disappeared.

But because the
matter is political

my husband
refuses to take me

into his complete
confidence.

Now it is essential

essential, I say

that I should thoroughly
understand it.

You are the only people,

save these politicians,

who know the true facts,

at least I presume you do.

You presume
correctly, madam.

I beg you then,

tell me exactly
what has happened

and what it may lead to.

Tell me all, Mr. Holmes.

Let no regard for my
husband's interest

keep you silent,

for I assure you

that his interests,

if he would only see it,

would be best
served by taking me

into his complete
confidence.

What was this paper,
which was stolen?

Madam, what you ask me
is really impossible.

You must see that this so.

If your husband
thinks fit

to keep you in the
dark over this matter,

is it for me,

who has only learned
the true facts

under the pledge of
professional secrecy,

to tell what
he has withheld?

It is not fair to ask it.

It is he who you must ask.

I have asked him.

I come to you as
a last resort.

But without your telling
me anything definite

you may do me
a great service

if you would enlighten
me on one point.

What is it, madam?

Is my husband's
political career

likely to suffer
through this incident?

Well let me say if
it is not put right

it may have a very
unfortunate effect.

Oh.

One more question,
Mr. Holmes.

From an expression which
my husband dropped

in the first shock
of the disaster

I understood that terrible
public consequences

might arise from the
loss this document.

If he said so, I
cannot deny it.

Of what nature are they?

There again

you ask me more

than I can
possibly answer.

Then I will waste no
more of your time.

I cannot blame
you, Mr. Holmes,

for refusing to
speak more freely,

and you on your
side will not,

I am sure, think
the worst of me

because I desire to share
my husband's anxieties,

even against his will.

Once more I beg

you will say
nothing of my visit.

I say,

what a really remarkable

and beautiful woman.

The fair sex is your
department, Watson.

What did she really want?

Surely her own
statement was clear

and her anxiety
very natural.

Think of her appearance,
Watson, her manner,

her suppressed excitement,

her restlessness,

her tenacity in
asking questions.

Remember she is the
youngest daughter

of the Duke of Belminster

and comes of a cast

that does not
likely show emotion.

She was certainly
much moved.

And you observed,
of course,

how she maneuvered to have
her back to the light.

She did not wish us

to read her expression
too closely.

Yes; she choose that
chair in the whole room.

And yet the motives of
women are so inscrutable.

I mean, how could build
on such a quicksand?

Their most trivial
action may mean volumes,

or their most
extraordinary conduct

may depend upon a hairpin
or a curling tong.

Good morning, Watson.

You off then?

Yes.

Holmes?

Was one of the
agents you spoke of

called Eduardo Lucas?

Yes.

Of Godolphin Street?

Yes.

You'll not see him.

Why not?

He was murdered in
his house last night.

Does it say murdered?

Murdered in Westminster.

Crime of a
mysterious character.

Eduardo Lucas,

unmarried, thirty-four,

well known in
society circles

on account of his
charming personality.

Valet out for the evening.

They always are.

Elderly housekeeper

sleeps at the top of the
house, heard nothing.

They never do.

Just before midnight

police constable, Barrett,

saw a door ajar,

Found Lucas stabbed
to the heart.

Awe, let me see.

Prussian dagger.

Robbery does not appear
to be the motive.

Valuable collection
untouched.

What do you make
of this, Watson?

Well it's an...

it's an
amazing coincidence.

Coincidence?

Here is one of
the three men

whom we have named

as possible actors
in this drama,

and he meets a violent end

during the very
hours we know

that drama is enacted.

The odds are enormously

against it being
a coincidence.

The two events
are connected

must be connected.

It is for us to
find the connection.

By now the police
must know all.

No, not at all.

They know all they see
at Godolphin Street.

They know, and
shall know nothing

of Whitehall Terrace.

Only we know
of both events,

and can trace the
relation between them.

It is with the
late Eduardo Lucas

that the solution
to our problem lies.

But it is a
capital mistake

to theorize in
advance of the facts.

You stay here
my good, Watson,

I will join you
when I'm able.

Watson, they've
arrested the valet.

Lestrade has been put
in charge of the case.

He's buzzing around
like a blue bottle.

I've got to know
him rather well.

Would it help if
I spoke to him?

No, no it would not.

This is a case where

the law is as
dangerous to us

as the criminals are.

We must be
patient and wait.

Lucas murder case.

The Evening Standard.

Lucas murder case.

Suspect released.

Murder case.

Suspect released.

The Evening Standard.

Lucas murder case.

Breakfast, Mr. Holmes.

No, no,

No thank you, Mrs. Hudson.

I don't want any.

I don't know.

You'll fade away
at this rate.

I say, Holmes, they've
found the murderer

or rather the murderess.

Indeed.

There's a wire from Paris.

Apparently Lucas was
leading a double life.

He had a Creole
wife in France

where he called himself
Henri Fournaye.

The woman was reported
to the police yesterday

by her servants,

she is quite insane,

a mania of a dangerous
and permanent form.

Poor woman.

But listen to this.

The same woman was seen

in the neighborhood
of Godolphin Street

on the night
of the murder

and later made an
emotional scene

at Charing Cross Station.

Now what do you
think of that?

Oh my dear Watson,

you are so long-suffering,

if I've told you nothing
over these last few days

it is because there
is nothing to tell.

Even now this
report from Paris

doesn't help us much.

Well surely it's final as
regards to Lucas' death.

The man's death
is a mere incident

a trivial episode

in comparison with
our real task,

which is to trace
the document

and save a European
catastrophe.

Now if the letter
were loose

no, it cannot be loose

but if it isn't loose,

where can it be?

Who has it?

Why is it held back?

Look if Lestrade found
it amongst Lucas' papers

he's not such a fool
as to announce it.

He would inform the
chief commissioner.

The chief commissioner

would inform the
Home Secretary

and he, in turn,
the Prime Minister.

No it's not among
Lucas' papers.

But why is it held back?

That is the question

which beats in my
brain like a hammer.

Was it a mere coincidence

that Lucas should
meet his death

on the night when the
letter disappeared?

Did it ever reach him?

Has this
mad wife of his

taken it with
her to Paris?

If so, is it in
her house in Paris?

Shall I go to Paris?

That would alert
the French Police.

Every man's hand
is against us,

and yet,

the interest at
stake are colossal.

Should I bring this to a
successful conclusion,

it will
certainly represent

the crowning glory
of my career.

Holmes, look!

Thank you.

There you go gov.

Thank you.

Mr. Holmes.

Doctor Watson!

You've no doubt been
following the Lucas case?

Lucas?

Lucas?

Awe yes, the name does
seem familiar to me.

Eduardo Lucas

found murdered
last Tuesday night

at his house in
Godolphin Street.

Rather a distinguished
gentlemen.

Student of
international politics

and a remarkable
linguist, so they say.

I've been in charge of
the case, matter of fact.

Not an easy task
by any means.

Some delicate problems
you understand?

But to the aid of
our French friends

I will be able
to bring the case

to a satisfactory
conclusion.

All the loose
ends tied up.

Oh we've got it,

clear as if we'd seen it.

Congratulations, Lestrade.

Another feather
in your cap.

Thank you.

Yes indeed.

Oh before you
go, Mr. Holmes,

it's a mere trifle,

but the sort of thing
you take an interest in

queer, you know,

what you might
call freakish.

It has nothing to do
with the main fact,

can't have, on
the face of it.

What is it, then?

Well if you gentlemen

could come down to
Godolphin Street

I think I could
explain it

better on the spot.

For a few minutes perhaps.

Oh good, it's only
just around the corner.

Thank you Cabbie,

keep the change.

Here it all is.

Now the woman must have
knocked on the door

after she saw the
valet had gone out.

Surprise visit no doubt.

Lucas let her in.

He couldn't keep her
on the street could he,

his own wife?

She started screaming
at him being French.

Excuse me.

Saying how'd
she traced him

and reproaching
him and so on.

Anyway they came in here

and one thing
led to another

and with the daggers
being so handy

the end came soon.

It didn't happen in
an instant though

for these chairs were
swept over to the wall

and he had this
one in his hand,

as if he did try to
hold her off with it.

Yes Lestrade, thank you.

Now tell me about
this trifle.

Well, you know in
crimes of this sort

we keep things in
their position.

Nothing has moved.

Officers in charge
day and night.

I'm always very
particular on that point.

Oh yes,

you're meticulous in your
investigations, Inspector.

Well this morning
we thought

we could tidy up a bit.

Post-mortem over,

all the evidence gathered,

investigation complete,

however, this carpet.

As you can see it's not
been fastened down,

it's just been laid there.

Now we had occasion
to raise it.

And we found...

Yes?

You'll never guess
in a hundred years

what we did
find, Mr. Holmes.

Now you see this stain?

Now a good deal of blood
must have soaked through,

must it not?

Undoubtedly it must.

Then you'll be
surprised to hear

that there is no
stain on the woodwork

to correspond.

No stain?

But there must be.

So you would say.

Fact remains

there isn't.

But the under side is
as stained as the upper.

It must have left a mark.

Now I will show you
the explanation.

There is a
second stain,

but it does not
correspond with this one.

Doctor Watson,

will you take that
side of the carpet?

Now we will move round

in an empty
clockwise direction.

What I want to know
is, Mr. Holmes,

who shifted the carpet

and why?

Lestrade, who was on duty

the day after the murder?

The day after?

MacPherson.

He's out there now.

Take my advice.

Examine him carefully.

I'll get him.

Don't do it before us.

We'll wait here.

Tell him you know
someone has been here.

Press him.

Tell him a full
confession

is his only chance
of forgiveness.

Do exactly as I tell you.

By George, if he knows

I'll have it out of him.

Watson, quick
get the table!

Empty.

Holmes!

In here, Constable.

MacPherson.

How's the family?

Very well, thank you sir.

Well come out with it.

Let these gentlemen

hear of your
inexcusable conduct.

Well I meant no
harm sir, I'm sure.

This young woman
came to the door

answering an advertisement
about typewriting.

It was mistook,
the house she said.

While we were talking,
sir, you know how it is?

It's a bit lonely
when you're out there

on duty all day.

What happened, MacPherson?

Well, sir, we got
talking about the crime.

She had read about it
in the paper, she said,

and wanted to see
where it was done.

So I saw no harm

in letting her
have a weak peep.

She got just about
in the door there,

spotted that mark
in the carpet

and down she dropped
on the floor,

and lay for dead.

And no wonder.

Go on, MacPherson.

Well sir, I was away
around at the lvy Plant

for some brandy,

and by the time I
had brought it back

the young woman had...

well she wasn't
here anymore.

She had recovered
and was off.

Ashamed of herself,

and dared not face me.

MacPherson,

did you move the carpet?

No sir, I only
straightened it out.

You see she
had fell on it

and the polished
floor being slippery.

Let that be a lesson
to you, Constable,

that you can't
deceive me.

No doubt that you thought
your breach of duty

would never be discovered,

and yet a mere
glance at that carpet

was enough to convince me

that someone had been
admitted to this room.

Lucky for you, my man,

that nothing's missing.

Otherwise you would find
yourself in Queer Street.

That will do.

Watson, what are
we doing here?

We have work elsewhere.

Another feather in
your cap, Lestrade.

Oh thank you, Mr. Holmes.

Good Lord, Mr. Holmes!

Hey.

Have you solved it?

Hardly, Watson, hardly.

Two gentlemen wish to
speak to you, my lady.

They do not have
an appointment.

Who are they, Bates?

Mr. Sherlock Holmes

and a Doctor
Watson, my lady.

Very well.

You may show them in.

Very well, my lady.

Excuse me.

Mr. Holmes and Doctor
Watson, my lady.

Mr. Holmes.

This is surely
most unfair

and ungenerous
on your part.

I have desired, as
I have explained,

to keep my visit
to you a secret

and yet you compromise
me by coming here,

and so showing
that there are

business relations
between us.

Unfortunately, madam,

I have no possible
alternative.

I've been commissioned
to recover

an immensely
important document.

I must ask you,
therefore,

to be kind enough

to place it in my hands.

You insult me, Mr. Holmes.

Do not ring, Lady Hilda.

If you work with me I
can arrange everything.

If you work against me,

I must expose you.

You're trying
to frighten me.

It's not a very manly
thing, Mr. Holmes,

to come here and
browbeat a woman.

You say you have
something to tell me.

Very well, I give
you five minutes.

One is enough, Lady Hilda.

I know of your visit
to Eduardo Lucas,

of your giving
him this letter,

of your ingenious
return to the room

on the evening
after the murder,

and of the manner in
which you took this letter

from it's hiding place
under the carpet.

I have kept this because

I thought it
might be useful.

The policeman
recognized you.

Once again, Mr. Holmes,

I tell you you're under
some absurd illusion.

Oh I am so sorry,
Lady Hilda.

I have done my best,

but I feel that
I'm in vain.

Is Mr. Trelawney
Hope at home?

He'll be back at half
past twelve, sir.

Then we have a
quarter of an hour.

We will wait here.

Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes.

Spare me.

For heaven's sake
don't tell him.

I love him so.

I would not bring one
shadow on his life,

and this I know would
break his noble heart.

We have not an
instant to lose.

Where is the letter?

Here it is.

I wish to heaven
I'd never seen it.

And the dispatch box?

With my husband.

Wherever he goes he
takes it with him.

We only have a
few minutes left.

Now, Lady Hilda, I'm
going far to screen you.

In return

you will spend the time

telling me frankly
the real meaning

of this
extraordinary affair.

It was on the
afternoon of that day,

that terrible day.

The day Eduardo
Lucas was murdered?

Yes.

I was just going out
to pay some calls

when a confidential
note arrived for me.

It was from Lucas

asking me to visit
him urgently,

as he had important and
private information

for my ears alone.

He had obtained,
in some way,

a letter of mine,

Mr. Holmes.

An indiscreet letter

written before
my marriage.

Foolish letter.

Letter of an
impulsive, loving girl.

I meant no harm,

yet my husband would
have thought it criminal.

Had he read that letter

his confidence would have
been forever destroyed.

It's years since
I wrote it.

I thought the whole
matter was forgotten.

No doubt you remember
to content very well.

Very sprightly, I must
say, very sprightly.

You make a charming
correspondent.

What do you want
with me, Mr. Lucas?

May I have my
letter back please?

Of course you
may, Lady Hilda.

But this is a very
valuable piece of paper,

would you not agree?

I'm sure if it was laid
before your husband

he would hardly fail to
appreciate the content.

You're a blackmailer.

A businessman, Lady Hilda.

This is purely a business
transaction on my side.

I can assure you
I wish no ill

to you or your husband.

How much money do you
want for that letter,

Mr. Lucas?

Let's not speak
of money, madam.

My business is not
so simple as that.

Well the matter
is an easy one.

Every evening

when your husband
returns from his ministry

he brings with him

his private dispatch box.

Is that not so?

Yes.

When he comes
home tonight

this box will contain

a long, blue envelope

sealed in red wax

with a crouching
lion stamped on it.

Bring me that long,
blue envelope

with its contents

and I will
return you this.

But my husband?

No harm will come to him.

I can assure you.

Put yourselves
in my position.

What was I to do?

Take your husband
into your confidence.

I could not, Doctor
Watson, I could not.

On the one side
seemed certain ruin

on the other,
terrible as it seemed

to take my
husband's paper,

in a matter of politics

I could not understand it.

While in the matter
of love and trust

it was only too
clear to me.

I did it, Mr. Holmes.

I did it.

I invented a story about
going to the theatre.

[Screaming in French]

The next morning

I realized I'd
only exchanged

one trouble for another.

I followed my husband
to Baker Street

and then came
to you myself

in order to understand

the full enormity
of the offence.

I alone in the world

knew where the
paper was hidden.

My whole mind was turned
to the one thought

of getting it back.

What I did,

here he is now.

Any news Mr. Holmes?

Any news?

I have some hopes.

This is a matter of
politics, my dear.

We shall not be long.

The Prime Minister
is lunching with us.

May he share your hopes.

He has nerves of steel

and yet I know

that he's hardly slept

since this
terrible event.

Mr. Holmes has some
news for us, sir.

What have you to
report, Mr. Holmes?

Purely negative as yet.

I have made inquiries

at every point
where it might be,

and I'm sure
there's no danger

to be apprehended.

That's not enough,
Mr. Holmes.

We cannot live
on this volcano.

We must have
something definite.

I have high hopes of
getting the letters back.

That is why I'm here.

The more I think of it

the more I am convinced

that the letter has
never left this house.

Oh really, Mr. Holmes.

But why should anybody
take it in order

to keep it in this house?

I'm not convinced that
anybody has taken it.

Mr. Holmes, this joking
is very ill timed.

You have my assurance
it was taken.

Have you examined
the box carefully

since last
Tuesday morning?

No not thoroughly.

I did not consider
it necessary.

You could conceivably

have overlooked
the letter.

That is impossible, sir.

I have known such
things happening.

You have other
papers in the box?

Yes, all my
confidential papers.

It could have got
mixed with them.

It was on the top.

The box could
have been shaken.

I had everything out.

It's easily settled.

Let's go and look.

This is a farcical
waste of time,

but still,

if nothing else
will satisfy you,

it shall be done.

Here are all my
confidential papers

as you can see.

It's a letter
from Lord Merrow,

report from
Sir Charles Hardy,

memorandum
from Belgrade,

that's the one

we were discussing this
morning, Prime Minister,

note on the Russo-German
grain taxes,

letter from Madrid,

note from Lord Flowers...

Yes, this is it.

And the letter is intact.

Remarkable.

This is inconceivable.

Impossible, Mr. Holmes.

Hilda?

How did you know
it was here?

Because I knew it
was nowhere else.

I cannot believe my eyes!

Hilda, we have
found the letter

and I know it is difficult

for you to understand

but it is the most
wonderful news.

It's quite extraordinary.

I went through
every paper in here.

I checked and I rechecked.

It's incomprehensible

that I should
have overlooked it

in this manner.

Oh gentlemen.

Come,

there's more in this
than meets the eye.

Prime Minister,

we too have our
diplomatic secrets.

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