Original subtitles

Far enough.

Come, Watson.

Come.

The game is afoot.

If you'll turn and come.

Well, I think we have fought sufficiently, Holmes.

Splendid.

Abbey Grange, Martian, Kent, 3 .30 a .m.

My dear Mr. Holmes, I shall be very glad of your immediate assistance in what

promises to be a most remarkable phase.

There is something quite in your line.

Except for releasing the lady, I will see that everything is kept exactly as I

have found it. But I beg you not to lose an instant, as it is difficult to leave

the useless man.

Your face is turning hot.

What?

Inspector Hockett.

He's called you in seven times. On each occasion, his summons has been entirely

justified. I fancy that every one of his cases has found its way into your

collection.

I must admit, Watson, you do have some power of selection.

Thank you.

At a tone so much of which I deplore about your narratives.

Your fatal habit of looking at everything from the point of view of a

instead of as a scientific exercise has ruined it.

What might have been an instructive and even classical series of demonstrations.

Why do you not write them yourself?

I will, my dear Watson, I will.

In my declining years.

So our present research appears to be one of murder.

Does it?

He be monogrammed with little arms.

An address which marks back to the deflation of the forestries. We are

high life.

Brackenstall. Sir Eustace Brackenstall.

You've heard of him? He was quoted in the Chronicle the other day as being one

of the richest men in Kent. Watson, you are a treasury of knowledge.

And you think him dead?

I think him murdered, Watson.

Hopkins is not an emotional man.

The writing shows a certain agitation. It is surely urgent.

You think the body left there for our inspection?

I think that we shall find the Brackenstall line is now empty.

Very good of you to come, Mr. Holmes.

And you, Doctor.

Inspector.

I hope you'll forgive me, Mr. Holmes.

Forgive what, Hopkins?

I should not have troubled you, sir.

But since the lady has come to herself, she's given so clear an account of the

affair that there's not much left for us to do.

You remember the Lewisham gang? Between the three Randalls?

Exactly, sir. The father and two sons.

It's their work, not a doctor's. But they did a job of signal a fortnight

didn't they? They did.

They were seen and described.

Well, it's cool of them. I agree to do another so soon as so near. But it is

they and our hanging matter this time.

Rattenclaw is deadly.

Ah, yes, Doctor.

In the dining room, his head was knocked in with his own poker.

And the lady?

been in the dining room yet?

Not yet, my lady.

I shall be glad when you can arrange matters.

What is that?

You have other injuries, madam.

It's nothing.

I have no connection with this hideous business.

Hey, sit down.

I think it would be best to inform you of something, gentlemen, regarding Sir

Eustace.

You'll no doubt hear a rumour of it otherwise from idle tongues who'll

the truth of it.

It would pain me to think of his memory tarnished in that way.

Sir Eustace drank, I'm afraid.

Not regularly and consistently.

Not in a way to hurt our marriage.

Nor did it interfere with the exercise of his public duties.

Nevertheless, the vice was a private shame to him.

He was very sensible of my dislike of it.

When he felt the obsession too keenly, he took himself off until the poison had

exhausted him.

It distressed me, of course, that it should happen.

But he was proud and sensitive enough never to allow me to witness it.

I felt deep gratitude for that.

And not a little pity.

Can you understand that, gentlemen?

I have never heard a like case talked of with such illuminating compassion,

madam.

I must, however, ask you to believe something further.

I was in some measure grateful for this vice of my husband's. How could that be?

I spent most of my life in South Australia, in the wine -growing country

Adelaide.

As a very young woman, I lived alone with my father.

My mother was dead.

If I had a mother, it was my loyal Teresa.

It was a very free life.

I found it extremely difficult to adapt to the proprieties of England, being

mistress of such a place as this.

So I felt if I were to show a decent understanding of my husband's weakness,

would in turn forgive me some of my unsuitable behaviour.

And so it proved.

I see.

I'll tell you about last night.

Eustace retired at about half past ten.

The servants had already gone to their quarters.

Which are where?

In the east wing.

Only my husband, Teresa, and myself sleep in the central block. The servants

would have heard nothing.

Had you retired by then?

I was in my room.

I never retired till I'd seen Madame to bed. Thank you.

I sat up.

This room, in fact.

It is my custom to walk around to see that the house is secure.

Because for obvious reasons, the Eustace is not always to be relied upon in that

respect.

I went into the gun room.

The kitchen.

The butler's pantry.

The billiard room.

The drawing room.

And finally, the dining room, where the curtains were drawn.

It's difficult to tell you much of what happened next.

I took a step towards the curtain.

And I found myself face to face with an intruder.

A big man.

Quite elderly.

For a moment we just stared at each other.

Then two other men came in behind him and he came for me.

I must have been unconscious for some minutes.

It was then that my unfortunate husband entered the room.

They dealt with him as you shall see.

I believe I fainted again. I'm not sure.

The exact events are difficult.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, you understand.

I do know that they cleared the room of its silver and they must have drawn

themselves a bottle of port, some of which I saw them drink.

The man who struck me was elderly, with a beard.

The others younger, smooth -faced.

Yes.

Finally, they checked that I was securely bound and left, taking the

them. How was the alarm raised?

Madam had not come upstairs.

Earlier she said she would follow me shortly, so at midnight I went down in

she'd fallen asleep over a book.

A thing I hate to do.

And there I found her, poor lamb, just as she says.

And him on the floor, his blood and brains all over the room.

I have to drive a woman out of her wit and her gagged and bound and her very

dress spotted with him.

She never wanted courage, did Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide.

And Lady Brackenstall of Abbey Grange hasn't learned new ways.

You've questioned her long enough, gentlemen.

When did the lady earn her baby in Australia?

About 18 months ago, sir. Her father sent her to give her experience of

That is to find her husband. The poor woman must have seen a brilliant match.

It's a mess, sir.

Constable?

A mess indeed.

We've touched nothing, sir. What do you make of it, doctor?

Should I?

Please proceed, my dear fellow.

It's a blow of savage ferocity. A single blow? I believe so.

It is a straightforward enough wound, you see.

It begins thus, below the ear, and then crosses both spheres of the parietal

bone at such an angle.

But this side is smashed as far as the coronal suture. I've never seen anything

like it.

A powerful man, the Zelda Randall? Half his trade is violence, sir.

And he's certainly left his trademark.

What beats me is how Randall could do so mad a thing.

Knowing that the lady could describe them and that we could not fail to

recognise the description.

The criminal mind has its quirks of conscience and scruples.

In that respect, it is as individual and curious as any other.

A noted miser may be secretly charitable, so this violent Randall may

line at the murder of an unconscious woman.

Or he may well believe that she did not see him.

Well, how is that, sir?

She testifies that they stared at each other. Yes, but it was she who held the

light. What Randall may have seen was mostly flickering candle flame.

The face behind it.

A distorted mask.

He may have been unimaginative enough to have thought that she saw no more than

he did.

He knocked on unconscious at the next instance, thus for his purposes, solving

his problem once more.

May I impose upon you to search the turkey rug?

What for, Holmes?

Candle wax, Watson.

Candle wax.

Now, this bell presents a mystery.

Does it not, Inspector?

Sir? When it was pulled down, the bell in the kitchen must have rung loudly.

Well, no -one would hear it, the way the kitchen is placed.

How did the burglar know that?

Exactly, Mr Holmes, exactly, for the very question I've put myself.

Now, either he has known the house, or he may have dealings with one of the

servants. One of my men is going over the record of service at the Grange with

the butler at this very moment, sir.

Hector, you seem to have thought of everything.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

Holmes. What is it, Watson?

There.

A scattering of wax and a very light scorching.

Invisible, but leaving its characteristic scent.

The lady would have fallen here.

Randall would have snatched up the candelabra immediately.

I suppose that is where they took their refreshment.

To steady their nerves, yes.

Port wine, sir.

Did Lady Brackenstall say that the butler's corkscrew was used?

No, sir.

She was senseless at the moment the bottle was opened. Quite so.

It was opened with a pocket screw, probably contained in a knife. If you

the top of the cork, you will observe that the screw was driven in three times

before the cork was extracted.

This long screw would have transfixed it and drawn it with a single pull.

When you catch this fellow, it is likely that you will find that he has a

multiplex knife in his reserve.

Excellent, sir.

These three glasses do puzzle me, I must confess.

Did Lady Birkenstock say that she actually saw the three men drinking?

Oh, yes. She was clear about that, sir.

Well, then there's an end of it.

What more is to be said?

Perhaps, Inspector, when a man has special powers and special knowledge

Sherlock Holmes, it rather encourages him to seek a complex explanation when a

simpler one is at hand.

You will let us know when Randall is arrested.

Poor Holmes, you must feel like an abstruse and learned specialist calling

case of measles.

Annoying.

We must return.

Three glasses.

Watson, we have been dazzled out of observation by that lady's beauty.

Beauty may be truth, but she does not necessarily speak it.

There was port in each glass, but there was only crusting in one glass. The last

glass filled is the one most likely to contain the crusting. I agree if the

pouring had approached the bottom of the bottle, but the bottle was half full

and it had been agitated.

The crusting was present throughout the port.

Well, what then do you suppose?

That only two glasses were used and that the dregs of both were poured into a

third so as to give the false impression that three people were there.

I understand.

If I'm right, Walton, then in an instant...

This case rises from the commonplace to the exceedingly remarkable.

That will be the Kentish train.

What will? That will.

How on earth did you hear it?

I heard nothing, Watson.

I observed.

Calitory thought after such a misplaced morning.

Lady Brackenstall and her maid must have some very good reason for shielding the

real criminal.

Well, Watson, we shall just have to construct our case for ourselves without

them.

It appears Inspector Hopkins has gone to report to headquarters.

Splendid. Then we can take possession.

How many frustrated

episodes for the laboring men here could one reconstruct from this mechanical

cemetery?

Watson.

Not entirely mechanical, it seems.

Requiescat in patriae.

I imagine it's a pet's grave.

It has been smashed, mended, and smashed again with deliberate force.

My story tells of the immediate power.

The remnants of a dog's collar.

Fudge.

Hey, you!

Has any servant been dismissed from the house over the last month?

No, sir.

There it is, as I thought.

Fudge.

Lady Brackenstall's pet dog, let it imagine, died.

It may not be too fanciful to suggest that their poor unfortunate creature was

literally killed.

Killed? For what reason?

Reason I suggest hardly entered into it. It was done in a fit of insane rage.

By whom? By a drunken, sadistic ruffian.

One of the murderers? No, Watson.

The lady's husband.

The last of the Brackenstalls.

Brackenstall? He considered it.

No one but a member of the household could vandalize a gravestone in a

place.

Why should Brackenstall entertain such an obsession about a pet animal that he

will forbid any remembrance of it? You saw the marks, of course, on the lady's

arm. Yes, I was surprised that they did not interest you more. There was stab

wounds made by a long needle or a hat pin. This lady has been living in fear

of her physical safety.

We have got our case.

How nearly have I made the blunder of a lifetime?

But now the chain is almost complete.

You've got your men.

Man, Watson.

Man.

Only one.

What a remarkable person.

Strong as a lion, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers, and finally

remarkably quick -witted.

Ah, Lady Brackenstall.

I do not wish to cause you any unnecessary trouble. My one desire is to

things easier for you.

I am convinced that you are a much -tried woman.

If you will trust me and treat me as a friend, you may find that I will justify

that trust.

What do you want me to do? To tell me the truth.

Mr. Holmes. No, no, no, no, please, Lady Brackenstall.

It is of no use.

You may have heard of any little reputation that I may possess. I will

all on the fact that your story is a complete fabrication.

You're an impudent fellow.

You try to say that my mistress has told a lie?

Have you nothing to tell me? I have told you everything.

Now, think just once more, Lady Brackenstall.

Wouldn't it be better to be frank?

I have told you all I know.

I am sorry.

The bell rope gave us a clue which should have left us in no doubt. How was

that? If you were to pull down a bell rope, Watson, where would you expect it

break? Surely at the top, where it is attached to the wire.

Not three inches from the top. But the rope was frayed. The rope which found

Lady Bracken's stall was frayed. He was cunning enough to do that with his

knife. But the other end was not.

If you had stood on the mantelpiece as I did, you'd have seen that it was cut

through.

Stop! Please, driver.

That log has not moved since early this morning.

Perhaps it snagged on something.

Or

anchored.

See that Inspector Hopkins gets this on his return, will you?

Where to now, Holmes? The shipping office of the Southern Cross Line.

Yes, yes, of course.

The Southern Cross Line is the principal passenger carrier between Adelaide and

London.

Ah, I see.

In May of that year, Only one of us reached the home port.

Our flagship, the Rock of Gibraltar.

I'll have the passenger list sent up.

How on earth did we get home at noon?

Ah, here we are.

Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide. First class.

accompanied by her maid. Where is the Rock of Gibraltar now?

At noon today.

She was steaming west through the Arabian Gulf, Mr. Holmes, heading for

hope.

Is it your policy to transfer officers much between ship and ship?

No, not at all.

It is our policy not to.

Ah.

I have you, Mr. Holmes.

You are asking the whereabouts of a member of the crew of the Rock who has

seen very recently, but not on the ship.

Mr. Viviani, your perspicacity astonishes me.

I assure you, it is only through study of the good doctor's masterly exposition

of your work that I now have any small capacity to reason.

Really? You amaze me.

Watson, are you taking notes?

Also...

You will be pleased to hear that I know exactly who the officer is.

Ah, excellent.

Mrs. Burbage.

Excellent.

Yes, gentlemen.

The only officer from that voyage of the rock who is not aboard her now is Jack

Crocker, a magnificent chap.

Am I not correct, Mrs. Burbage?

Crocker has the defect.

Delightful fellow.

Handsome as a prince.

The crew worship him.

We've promoted him captain of our new vessel, the Bass Rock.

No tea for me, please.

Which is just fitting out.

He's the youngest captain we'll have.

But he'll be the best.

Not an officer in the fleet to touch him.

He is hot -headed.

and excitable, but loyal, honest, and kind -hearted.

Sometimes in this life, you meet people who are what you might call large

-souled, who are a privilege to know.

Crocker is one of those.

Once or twice in my career.

I feel I've done more real harm by my discovery of the criminal than ever he

done by his crime.

But I've been fooled.

And I'd rather play tricks with the Lord.

Captain Crocker.

Sit down.

I've got your telegram. I've come at the hour you said.

I heard you've been down to the office.

There's no getting away from you, is there?

Speak up, man. You can't stand there and play cat and mouse with me.

What do you know?

Give him a cigar, Watson.

Please.

Bite on that, Captain Crocker.

And try not to let your nerves run away with you.

I should not sit here smoking with you if I thought you were a common criminal.

Tell me, what did you use to secure the silver to the

floating log?

I guess it was fishing gut from the gun room, but I was not present at its

recovery. Am I right?

What do you want?

Justice.

For whom?

No, we are not partisan.

We just want to see justice done, that is all.

Very well.

Was it fishing gut?

No, tarp twine.

It was a throwback to my days before the Masters of Youngst.

Even now I always carry a silver coin, a length of twine... And a multi -deck

knife.

How the devil do you know that?

Who are you?

Now, give me a true account of everything that happened at the Abbey

night. Be frank with me and we may do some good.

Play tricks with me and I'll crush you.

Oh, Johnson.

One thing I'll say first. I regret nothing, I fear nothing, and I'd do it

again if I had to be proud of the job. Damn the man.

But that's my side of things, only my side.

When I think of Mary, sweet Mary Fraser, when I think of getting her into this

bloody business, that turns my throat to water.

I met her when I was first officer on my last ship.

I need air, Mr. Crocker.

I've never danced so much in my life.

You'd dance as if you were born to, Miss Fraser.

Neither born nor bred, I assure you, Mr. Crocker.

Led to it, I think, by a better dancer than I am.

She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treated a man.

We were never engaged.

I've no complaint.

But it was all love on my side.

And all good comradeship and friendship on hers.

When we parted, she was a free woman.

But I could never again be a free man.

Next time I came back from the sea, I

read of her marriage.

It seemed to be the sort of thing she was made for. I didn't grieve.

I felt it to be right.

So I never thought to see her again.

The last voyage I was promoted in, the new boat was not yet launched, so I had

to wait for a couple of months with my people in Kent.

I knew now where she was, but stayed away.

Then I met Teresa Wright one day.

She told me all about her, about the marriage, about the man's drunken

about everything.

Do you know this noble baronet burnt her pet dog and threatened as much to her?

I tell you, gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad.

I didn't meet Mary.

And I met her again.

At last.

She would meet me no more.

I was then given notice that I had to leave on my voyage within a week.

You're mad.

How could you come here?

I'm to go away, Mary.

I've been given a ship.

To go and not to say farewell.

I thought I might never see you again.

You're going away.

I do not relish it.

You will make a fine captain.

You must not let anything spoil such an opportunity.

I fear for you.

You can do nothing.

Aye, that it is which hurts most, I think.

I believe I should have gone mad these past few weeks.

If... Mary?

I have not been to the thought of you.

My friend.

Aye.

Friend will do, Mary.

It is a measure of my love for you. It's so strong, it will live on crumbs.

Friend will do. Jack, don't make me say it.

It won't make us any happier.

You know you do.

Then I shall go a happier man than when I came.

God bless you, sweet Mary Fraser.

That's enough for me.

Let's not stay, Jack.

For my sake.

At last I have a man that will trade.

Here's a key to your damn lottery.

You have a profession, madam.

A damn whore.

A gutter queen.

A filthy jade.

Yes, sir.

Come, sir.

Stand you there, sir, over the body of your bloody...

Thank you now, Doctor.

Oh, what happened?

I killed him.

Are you certain?

I know. I felt it.

Listen to your old Teresa.

You were marked with a blow that could have killed you. That shall be your

salvation.

Teresa was as cool as ice. It was her plot as much as mine.

You must make appear the burglars have done the thing.

Teresa kept on repeating our story to her mistress whilst I swarmed up and cut

the rope of the bell.

I then lashed her in her chair, frayed out the end of the rope to make it look

natural.

The silver, will you know about that?

I do. And the third glass of port to tie in with the randles? Yes.

And we dropped the candlestick by where Mary fell for the wax would splash, you

know.

I never thought the police could have seen through our dodge.

When I knew that savage fiend was dead and she was free of him, I reckon I'd

done the best night's work of my life. I still do, even if I swing for it.

is the truth.

The whole truth, sir.

Oh, dear God!

Yes.

Yes, you have told me the truth.

And if the lady's maid had been less abstemious and had accepted your glass

port, your ingenuity might have fooled me, as you have certainly fooled the

police.

What put you onto me?

How on earth did you find me?

No one could have got up to that bell rope but an acrobat or a sailor.

No one but a sailor could have made the knots with which the cause was fastened

to the chair.

It was evident that the lady was shielding someone. To do so under such

circumstances meant that she must love.

Was not too wild a leap of the imagination to connect her with an

ship which brought her to this country?

Crocker.

You are expecting a visitor.

I am.

Dearest, the gentleman knows everything.

There's no hiding from him.

I know.

His telegram brought me here.

What do you intend, Mr. Holmes?

Well, Captain Crocker, this is a very serious matter.

Yet I feel sure that on the basis of the story which you have told us here

tonight, a British court of law will understand that you acted in defense of

your own life. That...

however, is for a jury to decide.

Meanwhile, I have so much sympathy for you that if you choose to disappear

within the next 24 hours, I promise no one will hinder you.

Then it'll all come out.

Certainly it will come out.

What sort of proposal is that?

Mary be left to face the music held as an accomplice, maybe.

No, sir, it will not do.

Jack, you must... Go.

I shall not.

Calm yourself, Captain.

I was only testing you.

Watson, this fellow rings true every time.

It is a great responsibility that I take upon myself, but we will do it in due

form of law.

Crocker, you are the prisoner.

Watson, you are a British jury.

And I never met.

Any man more eminently fitted to represent one.

Now, gentle man.

You have heard the evidence. Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty? No,

not guilty.

Vox Populi, Vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Crocker.

No.

No, sir, it will not do. Captain.

What if the police arrest some other poor devil? What then?

Then I will use all my powers to persuade them of their mistake.

If they light on you, then that is another matter.

However, I think that is unlikely. Come back to this lady in a year's time.

And may her future and yours justify us in the judgment that we have pronounced

this night. Oh, thank you.

Go.

Go.

Madam, I am intrigued. You gave such a compelling account of a man's sad

addiction to drink, and yet it was not, as we now know, a portrait of your

husband.

And it was such a clear description, I wondered... My father.

Ah.

My poor father, Doctor.

He sent me away to England because of it.

His self -management was the reason I didn't fear the vice of my husband,

because I knew of it before we were married.

How foolish I was.

Thank you, madam. I felt sure that your story was true to reality.

Good luck to you.

It's almost as though you didn't approve of the happiness we have fostered this

day. Oh, no, I approve of that. Of course I do.

I'm uneasy that you took upon yourself the duties of... advocate and judge.

You are too bound by forms.

Forms are society, Holmes.

Manners maketh man, Holmes.

It's just as well you are unique.