Original subtitles

Thank you.

Thank you, George.

From the point of view of the criminal expert,

London has become a singularly uninteresting city.

Well, I hardly think you'll find many decent citizens to agree with you.

Well, well, well, one must not be selfish.

The community is the gainer of no one, the loser, save the poor unfortunate

specialist whose occupation was gone.

was the taste of the pencil of Ex -President Murillo.

The most shocking affair of the Dutch steamship Friesland has very nearly cost

us both our lives.

Both of them great success.

I'm sorry, Mr Holmes, it's not at home. If I fail to see him now, it will be too

late. I'm sorry, I cannot help you. But it is a matter of the utmost urgency.

I have already told you, young man, Mr Holmes. Mr Holmes!

I must see you.

I told the young man you weren't here, but he wouldn't listen. I'm sorry. I'm

sorry. But I'm nearly out of my mind.

I am the unhappy John Hector Macfarlane.

Now, tell her quietly and slowly who you are and what it is that you want.

You mentioned your name just now as if I should recognise it, but I can assure

you, beyond the obvious fact that you are a bachelor, a solicitor and a

freemason and an asthmatic, I know nothing about you whatever.

You're untidy clothes, chief of legal papers, watch chain, and you're somewhat

irregular breathing.

Why, yes, Mr Holmes, I am all these things.

And in addition...

I am at this moment the most unfortunate man in London.

Have you not read your newspaper?

Not yet. Then, if you would allow me.

At about 12 o 'clock last night, an incident occurred at Lower Norwood which

points, it is feared, to a serious crime.

A small timber yard caught fire at the back of a house belonging to Mr Jonas

Oldacre, a builder.

Surprise was expressed at Mr. Oldacre's absence, and it became apparent that he

had disappeared.

An examination of his room revealed a safe which was open, signs of a

struggle, and a heavy walking stick with stains of blood upon the handle.

As we... All I ask is that you don't abandon me.

A man has followed me from London Bridge Station.

If they arrest me before I finish my story, make them give me time.

so that I may tell you the whole truth.

I could go to jail happy if I knew that you were outside working for me.

Arrest you? This is really most gratifying.

On what charge do you expect to be arrested?

Upon the charge of murdering Mr Jonas Oldacre of Lower Nord.

Dear me.

As we go to press, sensational developments have been reported.

Charred remains have been found among the ashes of the fire, and the police

theory is that the victim was clubbed to death and the body ignited.

It is known that Mr. Oldacre received a visitor last night, and the stick has

been identified as belonging to that person, a young London solicitor by the

name of John Hector McCallum.

May I ask why you are so at liberty, Mr. Macfarlane?

As there seems to be enough evidence to justify your arrest.

I live with my mother at Torrington Lodge in Blackheath.

But last night, having late business with Mr. Oldacre, I stayed at an hotel

Norwood.

Mr. Holmes, I knew nothing of this affair until I was on the train to my

this morning and read what you have just heard.

I saw at once the terrible danger of my position and hurried to put the case in

your hand.

Inspector, let's trade.

We have been expecting you.

Mr. Holmes?

Dr. Watson?

Mr. John Hector McFarlane?

Yes.

I arrest you for the willful murder of Mr. Jonas Oldacre of Lower Norwood. Oh,

no, but just one moment, Mr. Holmes. Half an hour more or less could make

difference to you, and this young gentleman was about to give us an

this very interesting affair, which might aid us in clearing it up.

There'll be no difficulty in clearing it up, thank you, Mr. Holmes.

Nevertheless, I mean, with your permission.

I would be much interested in hearing his account.

Well, Mr Holmes, there's no denying that you have been of use to the force once

or twice in the past.

But I must insist... All I ask is that you should hear and recognise the

absolute truth.

I'll give you half an hour.

Thank you, Lestrade.

We must warn you that what you say now will appear in evidence against you.

Pray continue.

I must first explain that I knew nothing of Mr. Jonas Oldacre, although his name

was familiar to me.

Many years ago, my parents were acquainted with him, but they drifted

And so it came as a complete surprise when, yesterday afternoon, at about

o 'clock, he walked into my office in the city.

Mr. Oldacre, good afternoon.

I'm Mr. Macfarlane. Would you care to come?

Please, won't you sit down?

How can I help you?

This is a draft of my will.

I want you, Mr McFarlane, to cast it into proper legal shape.

I shall sit here while you do so.

You can understand my astonishment, Mr Holmes.

when I found that, with some minor reservations, his entire estate had been

to me.

But I... I simply don't understand.

Oh, well, then, let me explain.

I'm a bachelor, Mr Macfarlane, with few relatives, and none who deserve my

consideration. Well, that may well be so, but... Let me finish.

I beg your pardon.

For many years now, I have withdrawn from my business.

I was a builder, and though I say it myself, an extremely successful one.

Successful enough to have gained considerable wealth and thus live out my

in complete, if solitary, comfort.

Many years ago, I knew your mother.

Knew her and hoped to marry her.

Then she met and married your father.

I had no idea.

Then why should you?

Three months ago, I read of your father's death in the Daily Telegraph,

mind was turned to your mother and to the son, who might very well have been

own.

This is my way of securing your future.

I know that whatever I leave will be in worthy hands.

What can I say?

But thank you.

There are a few documents I think you should see. Building leases, title

mortgages and so on.

Well, now my mind's made up, I shan't rest easy until the whole thing's

Yes, of course. I beg you to come to my house tonight.

What shall we say?

Nine o 'clock?

Why, yes. You'll, of course, bring the finalised will and then we can settle

matter once and for all. Yes, of course. Thank you, my boy.

Oh, one last thing.

Not a word of this to your dear mother until everything is settled. I want it

be a little surprise for her.

Little? You, you promise?

You have my word.

I left in good time for my appointment, but had difficulty in finding the house,

so that it was nearly half past before I reached it.

Good evening.

I have an appointment with Mr. Oldacre.

Mr. Macfarlane?

Yes, that's right.

It was not the warmest of receptions, and the house itself had a peculiar,

unloved feeling.

Sorry to keep you waiting, my boy. I'm not a talker. I'm a little late, I'm

afraid. You brought the papers?

Yes, indeed.

Excellent.

The bedroom was on the ground floor, where there was a large safe.

Bring the rest of those papers, my boy.

Now to business.

All done?

Yes, sir. All done.

Just seen the time, my boy. You must get home.

Oh, thank you.

I had a stick with me.

Ah, I wonder where she put it. Rather a heavy walking stick. It belonged to my

father. Never mind. I'll take good care of it until we meet again.

After all, I shall be seeing a great deal of you now, I hope. Indeed you

sir.

I left him there.

The safe was open, and the documents were on his desk.

It was too late to go back to Blackheath, and so I spent the night at

in Norwood.

I knew nothing more of this horrible affair until this morning.

Do you have the original draft of the will that Eldegar brought you?

Why, yes, I have it here.

May I retain this for 24 hours, Inspector?

If it would amuse you.

Well, anything more you'd like to ask, Mr. Holmes?

Not until I've been to Blackheath.

You mean Norwood?

No doubt that is what I must have meant.

Now, Mr. Macfarlane, my constable's at the door. There's a four -wheeler

waiting.

Morning, gentlemen.

Morning.

that our certain points about this document are the not, Watson.

Well, I can read the first two lines, and these in the middle of the second

page, and one or two at the end. I mean, they're as clear as print, but the

writing in between is very bad, and there are several places where I can't

it at all. What do you make of that?

What do you make of it?

That it was written on a train.

The good writing represents stations.

The bad writing, movement.

And the very bad writing... Passing over the points.

A scientific expert would pronounce at once that it was drawn up on a suburban

line. Since nowhere, save in the immediate vicinity of a great city,

be so quick a succession of points.

Fronting that his whole journey...

was occupied in drawing up the will, then the train must have been an

stopping only once between Norwood and London Bridge.

Yes, but it's curious, is it not, that a man should draw up so important a

document in so haphazard a fashion?

Yes, it suggests that he thought it was going to be of no practical importance.

Well, he drew up his death warrant at the same time.

This case is not clear to me.

Vamos.

Where are we going? Norwood?

No.

My son's the gentlest creature on God's earth.

It's inconceivable he could even contemplate such a terrible crime.

He didn't even know the man, Mr. Holmes.

But you did, Mrs. Macfarlane.

Years ago...

I'd forgotten that he ever existed.

Tried to forget.

It's impossible to quite forget a man like Jonas Oldacre.

Yes, I knew him well.

At one time we were engaged to be married.

Thank heaven I had the sense to turn away from him and marry a better, a

man.

Oh, please.

Your husband died recently?

He was a kind man.

A gentle man.

He was everything Jonas Oldacre was not.

And yet at one time you were prepared to marry him.

I said that I knew him well.

But the more I knew of him, the more I came to realise I knew him not at all.

He would change.

Suddenly.

What I thought frightened me.

There was a dark side to his character, Mr Holmes.

A desire to cause pain.

My own photograph.

It was my first present to him.

Good heavens.

That was how it was returned to me on my wedding day.

Together with a vile note urging a curse upon my house and saying he'd never

forgive me.

And yet he does seem to have forgiven you.

After all, to leave his entire estate to your son.

Neither my son nor I want anything from that wicked man, dead or alive.

Mrs. Macfarlane, the fact remains that the will was made.

I simply can't understand it.

Why? Have you ever spoken of old Acre to your son? I mean, perhaps told him what

you've just told me now?

No, never.

Never?

He found the photograph.

My husband tried to make light of it, but he insisted.

My husband told him something of the truth.

That's all.

And the boy was... disturbed?

He was upset, naturally.

You see, Mrs McFarlane, what the police might say is...

But if he had heard of old Acre's behavior toward you, it would predispose

toward hatred and violence.

And so their case against him would be considerably strengthened.

No.

There is a God in heaven, Mr. Holmes.

And that same God who's punished that wicked man will show in his own good

My son's hands are guiltless of his blood.

Dr.

Holmes. Dr.

Watson. We're just clearing up.

The will has promised.

Look.

Button.

Trouser button.

No doubt you brought your glass, didn't you?

The name is Hyams.

According to Mrs. Lexington, the housekeeper, Hyams was the name of Mr.

Oldacre's tailor.

Presumably the organic remains have been removed to the laboratory.

They have, Doctor, though they'll be of little use, I suspect.

Poor devil was no more than bone and cinder.

How very convenient for the murderer.

Not I might venture for Mr. Oldacre.

Nevertheless, Inspector, bone and cinder.

Thank heavens, he was wearing his trousers.

The stick belongs to the accused.

He's never denied it.

He says that he could not find it when he came to leave the house.

Says, Mr. Holmes, says.

My experts made out footmarks of both men on the carpet.

And too much subsequent traffic to make any examination on my part worthwhile.

Two sets of footmarks, Mr Holmes.

None of any third person.

Another trick for your side.

I suppose all these papers are from the page.

Correct. And nothing, absolutely nothing, has been removed?

Nothing whatsoever. We have opened one or two, as you can see, to check the

contents.

May I check them?

By all means.

I myself have business at the yard.

Oh, and I would like to see the housekeeper. What is her name? Mrs.

She'll add nothing more to what you already know.

Nevertheless.

I'll send her in.

Could it be that for once Lestrade is on the right track?

All my instincts are one way and all the facts are the other.

You wish to see me, sir?

Yes, Mrs. Lexington.

This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson.

Um, do sit down.

I'll stand, if I may.

This room has no comfort for me.

You let young Mr McFarlane into the house at 9 .30?

Yes.

And I wish that my hand had withered before I'd done so.

And you retired to bed at... 20 minutes past 11.

20 past 11.

And you heard nothing?

My room is at the far end of the house.

I heard nothing until the fire alarm sounded.

And it was then...

Only then that I realised my poor master had been murdered.

Mrs Lexington, to your knowledge, did your master have any enemies?

Every man has his enemies.

And a businessman like Mr Eldacre more than most, perhaps?

He was a well -respected gentleman who kept himself very much to himself.

Do you know anything about these papers?

I know nothing of Mr. Oldacre's private affairs. The buttons that the police

found in the fire.

My master had three suits made by Mr. Hyams. Two were still in that wardrobe

there, and the third he was wearing that night.

Thank you, Mrs. Lexington. You have been most cooperative.

What do you make of her?

Tight as wax, if you ask me.

But then, perhaps that's her usual manner.

It's all wrong.

I feel it in my bones.

Something.

Something.

Doesn't it come out?

That woman knows it.

Holmes, would you like me to have a look at these papers?

Well, a man's bank account can tell us as much as his diary.

Correct.

Thank you, Watson.

It's all right, Constable. I'm just stretching my legs.

I'll watch them.

Are you a local man?

Born and bred, sir. Not half a mile from here. Excellent.

And perhaps you could offer me some local knowledge.

I'll do my best, sir. I'll certainly do my best.

Holmes! Lestrade did say that no documents had been removed.

Yes, that's what I thought.

You've found something. No, it's what I haven't found that interests me.

There are certain cross -references to various deeds, valuable deeds, none of

which I can find.

But one thing is clear.

Oldacre was hardly in the affluent circumstances we have been led to

His bank account was practically empty, largely because he had made several

large payments in the past year to a certain Mr.

Cornelius.

Young Macfarlane would have inherited nothing.

This is an interest. Why should a retired builder have such large

with a Mr. Cornelius?

Well, let's take our cab and see what we can find out from his city bank.

You coming?

I'll stay here for a while.

Norwood Station.

So you're not going back to London with your friend, then? No.

Not yet, anyway.

I do hope my presence doesn't inconvenience you.

By the way, I should warn you, I found an undesirable lurking about by the

An undesirable? A tram, Mrs. Lexington. A gentleman of the road.

They'll get nothing here.

Ah. You don't believe in supporting our less fortunate brethren?

I work.

So can they.

Quite good.

I'm on my way to Folkestone.

I've done enough walking. I have... half eyes of place and... what they put.

I used to meet a friend of mine here.

Oh, you might know him. He's a seafaring man.

I... I know him.

She had my billet for the last four nights, she does.

And off he goes.

Without even a word.

You take care of him.

Be clear of him.

He's a... He's a liar.

He didn't strike me as much.

He goes up to that big house he does.

Comes back here and... Tells some yarm about them.

Putting out with open hands.

Telling him to come back tomorrow and they'll give him some grub and some cast

-off for him.

How's that lying?

Because, my friend, I'd already paid my court.

I nearly got the law on my back for my insolence.

Insolence?

Perhaps he told him a fleeting tale.

Are you saying that a drunken sailor has more to offer than a

sergeant in the 22nd? No.

Who's a lawyer?

He says he does.

Whatever I get.

I'll share with you, shipmate, he said.

Off he goes.

Not a sight of incident.

Holmes.

You must permit yourself some food. You must eat.

At present, I cannot afford energy and nerve force for digestion.

Well, you must if you intend to pursue this case.

I fear, my dear fellow, that our case will end ingloriously by Lestrade

our client.

It will certainly be a triumph for Scotland Yard.

There's a telegram.

Important fresh evidence to hand, Macfarlane's guilt definitely

advise you to abandon case Lestrade.

It is a sage's little cock -a -doodle of victory.

Let's have some breakfast.

And then go out together and see what we can do.

I feel as if I shall need your company and moral support today.

Ah, Mr.

Holmes, Dr.

Watson. I think you'll acknowledge that we're just a little in front of you this

time.

Step this way, if you please, gentlemen.

And I'm sure I can convince you that it was John McFarlane who committed this

crime.

I don't like being wrong any more than the rest of us do. Still, a man can't

always expect to have it his own way.

Can he, Dr. Watson?

This is where the housekeeper left McFarlane's hat and stick. And this is

where he would have come to collect his hat after the crime was committed.

Now look at this.

A thumb mark.

So I observed.

A thumb mark in blood.

You are aware that no two thumb marks are alike.

I have heard something of the kind.

Identical. And that was taken from Macfarlane this morning.

Definitely the same thumb mark.

And that is final.

Quite final.

Who made this discovery?

It was Mrs. Lexington here who drew my constable's attention to it.

And I suppose there is no doubt that the mark was there yesterday.

Well, of course, Macfarlane could have crept out of jail in the middle of the

night just to strengthen the evidence against himself.

Have you any objection if I take a stroll upstairs?

No, none at all.

There's nothing up there, though.

Sorry things look so bad, Holmes.

But there's a little theory of flaw in this new evidence.

What's that?

That thumbprint was not there when I examined the hole yesterday.

Inspector Lestrade.

I cannot help thinking your evidence is incomplete.

What do you mean, Mr Holmes?

Only that there is an important witness that you have not yet seen.

You can produce this witness, can you? I think I can.

Well, then do so.

I'll do my best.

How many constables have you?

Three within call.

Excellent. I assume that they are able -bodied large men with powerful voices.

No doubt that they are, yes.

In the outhouse, there is a quantity of straw that I would like two bundles

brought in.

Straw?

And two buckets of water.

Water? Ask them to bring it to the top landing.

The straw into the fireplace, a little bit in front, two buckets of water that

night.

Mr Holmes!

I don't know whether you're playing a game with us, but surely you'd tell us

without all this tomfoolery? I can assure you, Lestrade, I have an

reason for everything that I do. Watson, would you put a match to that straw?

And, Constable, will you sprinkle it with water?

Now, we must see if we can find this witness for you.

Gentlemen.

Would you please join me in the call of fire? One, two, three.

Fire! We can do better than that.

Full voice and together.

Fire!

a bucket of water on that straw.

Let's trade.

Allow me to present you with your missing principal witness, Mr. Jonas

What's this, then?

What have you been doing all this time?

I've done no harm. No harm?

You've only done your best to get an innocent man hanged.

If it wasn't for this gentleman standing here, I'm not sure you wouldn't have

succeeded.

Take him.

Don't see where this rat has been lurking.

Now, you see the advantage of being a builder. He was able to fix up his own

little hiding place without any confederate.

Save for that precious housekeeper of his, whom I should lose no time in

to your bag, Inspector.

And these are the missing papers, no doubt.

No doubt whatsoever.

Constable, find the housekeeper.

How did you know about that place, Mr Holmes? When I compared the proportions

this room with those of the room below, I deduced that this fireplace wall was

full. Old Acre clearly had a great deal of nerve, but not enough, I fancied, to

lie quiet before an alarm of fire.

But how in the world did you know that he was in the house at all? The thumb

marks were straight.

When I examined the hall yesterday, it was clear. Therefore, it must have been

put there during the night. But how?

After Macfarlane had examined the papers that night, he resealed them.

To do so, he used his thumb upon the wax.

Brooding in that den of his, it suddenly struck old Acre what use he could make

of that thumbprint.

Smearing the wax with a little blood, he made what appeared to be absolutely

damning evidence against Macfarlane.

What was the object of his deception?

Ah, well, you see, Inspector, in order to swindle his creditors who were

pressing him, Oldacre emptied his bank account by paying out several large sums

to a certain Mr Cornelius. Now, I have no doubt that Messrs Oldacre and

Cornelius are one and the same person, the object being to change his name,

on the money, and then vanish.

We see before us a very deep, malicious and vindictive man.

Did you know that he was once refused by Macfarlane's mother?

All his life he has longed for vengeance.

If he could give the impression that he was murdered by the only child of his

former sweetheart, what more bitter revenge?

I would never have allowed any real harm to befall poor Mr Macfarlane, I assure

you. That's for the jury to decide.

You're charging me for a joke? Nothing more than a practical joke. It's nothing

less than murder.

The body in the fire.

But whose body was it?

An old sailor, Lestrade, who had fallen upon hard times.

When I examined the ashes of that fire, I discovered that your experts had

missed this.

It is a tooth of the great white shark.

And you see that it has been lightly carved.

It is typical of the work carried out by seamen.

This isn't evidence enough to show who died in the fire.

I know for certain that on Monday, the day before the murder, a tramp called at

this house.

Yet when I questioned the housekeeper, she assured me that no such tramp would

ever be welcome.

Not only was his reception welcoming, but the man received some of Old Acre's

clothing.

Yesterday, near the front gate, I found the calling card that he left, a coded

sign advising his fellow travellers of a charitable welcome.

And last night, with the help of your local constable, I talked to one of

fellow travellers, who said that the unfortunate seaman had been asked to

back the following day with the assurance of further hospitality.

And so, the next morning, wearing his new clothes, or at least his new

He returned.

And was never seen again.

You've saved an innocent man's life, Mr. Holmes.

You've also saved me some embarrassment.

Ah, my good chap.

You will find that your reputation has been enormously enhanced. Just make a

alterations to that report which you are writing, and they will understand how

hard it is to throw dust in the eyes of Inspector Lestrade. You do want your

name to appear?

Not law.

His work is its own reward.

I'll see you hang for this.

That privilege must surely be mine.