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Mr. Kradidis.
Good evening.
Are you Mr.
Latimer? I am Paul Kradidis. My name is Latimer. I've come to meet you, Mr.
Kradidis. I have a letter from my sister, Sophia.
Just come this way, Mr. Kradidis. We have a carriage waiting.
During my long and intimate acquaintance with Sherlock Holmes, I'd never heard
him referred to his relations, and hardly ever to his own early life.
Because of this reticence, I sometimes found myself regarding him as an
phenomenon, as deficient in human sympathy as he was pre -eminent in
intelligence. I'd come to believe that he was an orphan with no relatives
living. But one day, to my very great surprise,
He began to talk to me about his family.
My singular gift for observation and introduction may I come from my
grandmother, who was the sister of Vernet, the French artist.
Your art in the blood is liable to take the strangers for example, my brother,
Mycroft.
Your brother?
I didn't know you had a brother.
Oh, yes.
And I can assure you that he possesses a far greater faculty for observation and
deduction than I do.
Holmes, I know that you are a modest man.
My dear Watson, I cannot agree with those that rank modesty among the
To the logician, everything should be seen exactly as it is. And to
underestimate oneself is as much a departure from the truth as to
one's own ability.
What I have just told you about my brother is the exact and literal truth.
Well, naturally, I don't doubt your word.
But if there is another man in England with such singular powers, how is it
neither the police nor the public have ever heard of him, let alone myself?
He's very well known in his own circles.
Where, then?
The Diogenes Club.
It is the oddest club in London, and my brother one of the oddest men.
I suppose you wish to meet him.
Well, of course I do.
Even if it's just to prove that he exists.
Then you shall.
This afternoon, he has come across a most singular problem which he thinks
interest me.
But why does Mycroft not use his great powers for detective work?
If the art of the detective began and ended in reasoning from an armchair, my
brother would be the greatest criminal agent that ever lived.
What is to me a means of livelihood is to him the merest hobby of a dilettante.
But he has no ambition and no energy.
What is his profession, then? He has an extraordinary faculty for figures. He
audits the books of some of the government departments.
Patients for the Diogenes Club.
Shyness and misanthropy. My brother is one of the founder members.
It contains the most unsociable and unclubable men in town who speak not a
and shun even the merest glance.
Now, ladies and gentlemen.
Yes, but not a word.
Holmes?
Holmes?
We can talk here.
Oh, thank goodness.
Look at those two men, Sherlock.
What do you make of them?
The billiard marker and the other.
Precisely. What do you make of the other?
An old soldier, I see.
And very recently distraught. Dirt in India, I see. And a non -commissioned
officer. Relatility, I fancy. And a widower.
With a child.
Children, my dear boy.
Children.
Mycroft Holmes.
Glad to meet you, Dr. Watson.
I hear of Sherlock everywhere since you became astronomer.
Well, thank you.
For anyone who wishes to study mankind, this is the spot.
But surely you were taking things a little too far just now.
It is not hard to say, Watson, that a man of that bearing and expression of
authority and sun -baked skin as a soldier is more than a private and is
long from India.
That is not long since left the services shown by his still wearing his
ammunition boots, as they're called.
He has not the cavalry of stride.
Yet he wore his hat on one side, as is shown by the lighter skin on one side of
his brow.
His weight is against him being a trapper.
He is in the artillery.
There, of course, his complete mourning shows that he's lost someone very dear.
The fact that he's doing his own shopping looks as though it were his
He's been buying things for children, you see.
There is a raffle which shows that one of them is very, very young.
The fact that he has a picture book under his arm shows there is another
Ah, Mr.
Melas.
Come in, sir.
These are my friends.
This is Dr. Watson.
And this is my younger brother, Sherlock.
You're Mr.
Sherlock Holmes?
I asked Mr. Melas to step across. He lodges on the first floor above me, and
thought you'd be interested in his story.
He's the reason why I asked you to call today.
Mr. Melas, he came to me, well, in perplexity.
But I think... I shall ask Mr. Melas to tell his own very remarkable experiences
in his own fashion.
Thank you, Mr. Holmes.
For many years, I have been the chief Greek interpreter in London.
I do not think that the police believe my story.
On my word, I do not.
Just because they have never heard of it before, they think that such a thing
cannot be.
But I know.
But I shall never be easy in my mind until I know what has become of my poor
with a sticking plaster upon his face.
Mr.
Mellas, please sit down.
Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I prefer to stand.
Watson.
I am all attention.
All this happened only two days ago, on Monday night.
I am Greek by extraction, and earn my living as an interpreter.
It often happens that I am sent for strange hours, by foreigners who get
difficulties, or by travellers who arrive late and wish my services.
Mr. Malaz?
Yes?
I apologize for this intrusion, but I need the services of an interpreter
immediately. My name is Latimer.
Immediately? I wouldn't insist unless it were urgent, but the Greek friend of
mine has just arrived in this country on business, and unfortunately he speaks
nothing but his own tongue.
I likewise, sir. Mr. Malaz, please.
My carriage is waiting outside.
How far away?
Oh, if you can.
I'm sorry to have to cut up your view, Mr. Mellor.
But the fact is I have no intention that you should see the place to which we
are driving.
It might possibly be inconvenient to me if you were ever able to find your way
there again.
It's very extraordinary conduct, Mr. Latimer.
You must be aware that what you're doing is quite illegal.
It is somewhat of a liberty, no doubt, but we'll make it up to you.
For nearly two hours we drove without my having the least idea as to where I
was.
Did you not notice any change of sound under the wheels?
I listened, Mr. Holmes.
Sometimes we seemed to be on a paved causeway, sometimes on asphalt.
But there was nothing to tell me where I was.
And no other sounds? A ship's siren? A church bell?
I'm sorry, nothing like that.
At what time did you finally reach your destination?
Ten minutes to nine.
Exactly.
Is this Mr.
Melas, Harold?
Yes. Well done.
Well done.
No ill will, Mr. Melas, I trust.
But we could not get on without you.
If you deal fair with us, you'll not regret it. But if you try any tricks,
help you.
What do you want of me?
Only to ask a few questions of a Greek gentleman who is visiting us and to let
us have the answers. But you say no more than you are told, or it were better
you had never been born.
Mr. Mellor, pray continue.
Well then, this man, this evil man,
showed me into a room which appeared to be very curiously furnished.
But again, the only light was afforded by a single lamp, half turned down.
It's late, Harold.
Are his hands loose?
Take this.
You will ask the questions.
Mr. Melas, I'm the... He will write the answers.
Ask him, first of all, whether he is prepared to hand the papers.
Never.
On no conditions.
He writes,
only if I see him married in my presence.
By a Greek priest whom I know.
You know what awaits you then.
He says,
I care nothing for myself.
And so it went on.
Again and again I had to ask him whether he would give in and sign the document.
Again and again I had the same indignant reply.
But soon a thought came to me.
I took to adding on little sentences of my own to each question, innocent ones
at first, to test whether either of our companions knew anything of the matter.
And then...
As I found that they showed no sign, I played a more dangerous game.
This obstinacy is doing you no good.
He says, I care not.
In fact, he had also told me he was a stranger
in London.
He then told me he had been here three weeks and was being forcibly starved.
Did you manage to find out his name?
Gradidis.
He was from Athens.
But that was all I could discover, unfortunately.
Another five minutes and I should have wormed out the whole story under their
very noses.
Ask him again, Mr. Mollat.
But at that instant, the door opened and a woman stepped into
the room.
He says never.
Well, ask him again.
Harold, I could not stay away any longer.
Sophia! Sophia!
Sophia! Sophia!
That
will...
Do.
Mr. Melas.
As you perceive, we have taken you into our confidence
over some very private business.
Here are five sovereigns, which will, I hope, be a sufficient fee.
But remember,
If you speak to anyone about this, one human soul mind,
well, may God have mercy on your
soul.
As before, I was taken in the closed carriage for almost two hours.
There I was abandoned, as I was later to discover, near Wandsworth Compton.
I do not know where I had been, nor whom I had spoken with, nor anything, saving
what I have told you.
But I know there is foul play going on, and I want to help that unhappy man.
Before God, I do.
Micron.
Micron!
What tips have you taken so far?
Well, this was in all the daily papers.
Anyone having information as to the whereabouts of a Greek gentleman named
Kratidis who cannot speak English will be rewarded.
A similar reward will be paid to anyone having information about a Greek lady
whose first name is Sophia, but no answer as yet.
What about the Greek legation? I have tried. They know nothing.
The head of the Athens police, then.
Sherlock has all the energy in the family.
Will you take up the case by all means and let me know if you do any good?
Certainly. Mr. Mallard.
I should be extremely careful, if I were you.
But, of course, through these advertisements...
they will know that you have betrayed them.
It seems to me obvious that this Greek girl has been carried off by the young
Englishman, Harold Lattin. Carried off from where?
Athens, perhaps?
No, no, no. This Harold Lattin might come to speak a word of Greek.
The girl speaks English fairly well.
Influence that she has been in England some little time and he has not been in
Greece.
Thank you, Miss Jackson.
Then...
that the girl was visiting England and that this Harold persuaded her to fly
with him. That is more probable. Then the brother.
That must mean the relationship comes over from Greece in order to intervene.
They see him, use violence to force him to sign some documents making over the
girl's fortune to them. He's probably the trustee. This, as we have heard, he
refuses to do. So far.
But these men will not stop now.
Whatever happens, Watson, we must find them. How can we?
Well, if our conjecture is correct, and the girl's name is or was Sophia
Cretido, we should have no difficulty in tracing her.
That must be our main hope.
The brother, of course, is a complete stranger.
Come in, sir.
You don't expect such energy from me, do you, Sherlock?
Now, how did you get here?
I passed you while you were in the telegraph office.
I've had an answer to my advertisement.
It came within a few minutes of your leaving.
And what a text.
It is written with a J -pen on royal cream paper by a middle -aged man with a
weak constitution.
Sir. In answer to your advertisement of today's date, I beg to inform you that I
know the young lady in question very well.
If you should care to call upon me, I could give you some particulars as to
painful history.
She is at present at the Myrtle's Beckenham. Yours faithfully, J.
Davenport. He writes from Lower Brixton.
Do you not think we should drive there now and learn these particulars? My dear
Michael.
The brother's life is more important than the sister's story.
We should call at Scotland Yard for Inspector Gregson and then go straight
to Beckenham.
Well, we know that a man is being done to death.
Every hour may be vital.
Better pick up Mr. Malas on the way.
Why?
Because we may need a Greek interpreter.
Excellent, Watson.
I should say, from what we have heard, that we are dealing...
With a particularly dangerous guy.
Oh.
Mr Miller?
Yes? There's a gentleman downstairs to see you, sir. What gentleman?
Well, he said he met you today at the Darjeeling's club.
Thank you!
Good evening, Mr. Miller.
Good evening, Mrs. Stone. Would you tell Mr. Melas I need to see him urgently?
But Mr. Melas is not here, sir. A gentleman just called for him and he
Can you tell me where?
Oh, I don't know, sir. All I know is he drove off with the gentleman in a
carriage. Did the gentleman give a name?
No, sir.
He wasn't a tall, handsome, dark young man.
Oh, no, sir. He was a little gentleman with glasses thin in the face, but very
pleasant in his ways.
He was laughing all the time he was talking.
Thank you.
Scotland Yard. And hurry.
It can't be done without a warrant. We are not disputing that, Inspector.
Even if they are criminals, it is a private house and the law demands... The
demands that we act quickly.
Can you not find a magistrate to find this warrant for us?
At this hour?
At this very minute?
Or kidnapping could become murder.
I can but try.
Please do.
Tell him I have ceased being reasonable.
If he does not sign the papers now, I will kill him.
Tell him I have no more patience.
Please, Inspector, will you not come without a warrant? I am sorry,
The law cannot be hurried, Mr. Holmes.
The life of Mr. Melard is in your hands, Inspector.
Tell him.
Tell him, if I kill him... I have no use anymore.
For he killed her.
And she will die also.
But you wouldn't know...
Here it is, gentlemen.
Fine. Now, come on and drive us to London Bridge Station.
A carriage heavily loaded with luggage has passed out within the last half
Wait for us here.
The nest is empty and the birds are flown.
Quick! The poor wretch must live for Cretides.
No more, I'm afraid.
His life is over. We should have been here sooner, then. Back down!
Must have been dead about four hours.
The gas may have served as a coup de grace.
Am I not right, Dr. Watson?
Beaten to death.
But Mr. Mellis still lives.
Quick, let's get him out of here as fast as possible. Respect and brandy.
Relax, Mr. Mellis, you're in safe hands.
From a brief look at her room, the lady left in haste, but without struggle.
That man Latimer must still have some power over her.
One wonders with how much remorse she abandoned her brother for Harold
You still retain your low opinion of women.
In this instance, I fear I may be justified.
Holmes.
They appear to have consulted a Bradshaw.
Look at this page.
The boat train.
The motorists won't get far.
I'll have men at every port in England if need be. The boat train makes one
between London and Dover at Herne Hill in...
In 23 minutes, precisely.
Exactly. Stay with your chief witness, Inspector.
You may need a statement from him.
And he will need your help.
Little Brandy and ammonia at frequent intervals.
My name is Sherlock Holmes.
Mr. Sherlock Holmes?
I've read about your case, sir. Are we the last passengers from whom you have
collected tickets? I always work at the engine, start there, and work my way
back to the garden. Then you can help me. There are three passengers.
Two men and a woman, travelling together.
They may not appear to be companions, but they will be in a compartment alone.
The elder man wears thick -lens glasses, and the younger might be called Hansel.
They will have a great deal of luggage marked for the continent. Have you seen
such a party? Yes, indeed.
I can help you, Mr. Holmes.
I never doubt it.
There are two parties who fit that description, Mr. Holmes. Two.
Take out the ticket, please.
In compartment B4 and D8. Thank you, Inspector.
How do we know which two are the murderers? It couldn't be simpler.
No.
Don't make him.
There's danger enough for the two of us.
left -handed printer from Deptford.
His elder brother drinks too much and is pained by his liver.
Not a man, then.
Not a man.
And the girl?
She knows neither of them. She's a machinist from Bradford who's going on
holiday to find romance.
Which means undoubtedly that the murderers are to be pardoned.
Thank you, Miss Cretini.
Still, still.
Do come in, Watson.
Who the hell are you?
Third member of the party is absent, but I'm sure he will return.
May I ask if you are this man's prisoner or companion?
Don't say anything.
They have no right to ask you anything at all.
If they were the police, they would have said so.
Why the police, Mr. Latimer?
Were you expecting to meet them?
Look, I don't know who you are.
Nor do I know how you know my name.
But I'm travelling with my fiancée to the continent to get married.
So would you please leave us alone? Otherwise I should be obliged to call
guard. Please do. I'm sure Dr. Watson would do it for you.
I fear you know who I am.
Then may I be permitted to ask your fiancée the question again?
It's true what he said.
We are going to be married.
Where?
In Athens.
I fear not.
And who is going to stop us?
If not the police, then I will. Miss Gratidis, do you seriously want me to
believe that you are leaving England willingly?
Yes.
To marry the man who has just murdered your brother?
That's not true.
Oh, murdered.
It isn't true, is it?
He's going to meet us in Greece as soon as he dwells. That's what you said to
me. And he will, Sophia, he will.
Your brother is dead, Miss Gratidis.
Don't listen to him.
I found his body myself in the house in Beckham.
He had been murdered.
Tortured to death.
No, it can't be.
Harold, tell me what's happened.
As for you, Mr. Latimer, Mr. Melas is alive as a witness.
To see you hang.
Yes, I know very well. Very well indeed. I have friends there.
Yes, but I need not elaborate, as I see you are men of the world, sir.
On the contrary, I've never left England in my life.
Haven't you? No.
Then, sir, if you must choose one country, it must be Greece, the land of
Olives and... It is my destination, Greece.
Do you speak Greek, sir?
No. But one can always find a good interpreter.
Thank you.
An excellent... Well, goodbye, sir. It was a pleasure meeting you.
Goodbye. It was an interesting...
Don't bother trying.
Sometimes you get my size.
Is it true about Paul?
I'm afraid so.
I hated Harold Latimer.
I hated him, and I loved him.
I would have done anything he said.
I would have gone anywhere with him.
You know he murdered your brother?
Yes.
Even then.
Mr. Kerr.
We were expecting you.
I believe this is your revolver,
sir.
mind. We seem to be heading down the path of crime.
The only path I intend to take is the door to the Diogenes Club, which I can
close behind me.
What will become of her?
After questioning? Nothing.
It's not a crime to have a cold heart and not a single shred of compassion.
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