All language subtitles for S03E07 The Six Napoleons

Let's do this.

You're a piece of shit!

Don't you dare open your mouth and talk
to me about your little shit with pride!

I love him, I still love him with all my
heart!

Shut up or your mouth is full of mud!

Let me go!

I want to be with him right now!

You're a piece of shit!

My life is his, I love him!

Aren't you ashamed?

No! I'll kill you!

Getro! Stop it!

You've disrespected us, you're not
ashamed!

Una puttana! Una puttana!

Ha disonorato la famiglia e me! Quel
bastardo ha violato il suo onore e

della nostra famiglia! E se non fai
niente, ci penserò io a portare a...

Anything remarkable on Handler Street?

No.

Nothing in particular.

Then tell us about it.

You come to mention it, Mr. Holmes.
There's no denying there is something on

mind.

It first came to my notice four days
ago.

A certain Morse hut has a shop for the
sale of pictures and statues in the

Kennington Road.

But what happened last night was more
serious and also more singular.

Burglary. Exactly.

A house of a Dr.

Barneycott was broken into.

Now, this bus was one of a pair
purchased from Morse Hudson by Dr.

He had put it in his house.

The other he put two miles away in his
surgery.

Later that same night...

This

is certainly very novel.

Yes, I thought it would please you.

Though, in my opinion, it comes more
into Dr Watson's line than ours.

Disease? I should say madness.

Queer sort of madness, too.

You wouldn't think there was anybody
living nowadays, would you, to have such

hatred for Napoleon Bonaparte?

Ah, actually, there are no limits to the
possibilities of monomania.

You see, there is the condition that the
modern French psychologists have called

an edé fixe.

If someone became obsessed with, say, an
injustice committed to an ancestor

during the Napoleonic Wars, he might
form an Ide fix, and under its

he might be capable of any fantastic
outbreak.

But, you know, that won't do.

How do you explain it, then?

I don't attempt to do so.

I see.

I would simply observe.

There is a certain method in this
gentleman's eccentric madness.

I mean, for example, in Dr Barnacott's
house, where a sound might arise with

sleeping family, the bus was taken
outside before being broken, whereas in

surgery, where there was less danger of
alarm, it was smashed where it stood.

I only mention it because you usually
have a taste for all that is out of the

common, no matter how trivial.

I dare call nothing trivial astray. Some
of the most classic cases have had the

least promising commencement.

Yeah, that dreadful business of the
Abernethy family.

I hardly call the dismemberment of an
entire family trivial.

Would you be so kind as to explain?

What?

The point is that it only came to
Holmes's notice because of the depth to

the path was bungled to the butter on a
hot day.

Ah.

Ah.

So, you see, I cannot afford to smile at
your three -buckle, Lestrade.

However, I would be obliged if you could
keep me informed as to development.

Listen to this, Holmes.

Come instantly.

131 Pitt Street, Kensington, Lestrade.

What's it about?

It could be anything, but I suspect it's
the equal to the story of last night.

You know, my E -Day fix.

Finish your coffee.

There's a cab at the door.

Two minutes.

It's attempted murder, at least.

Nothing less would hold the London
message, boy. There's a deed of violence

that young fellow's round shoulders and
that stretched neck.

Well, Lestrade will soon tell us.

Look at this, Watson.

The bottom steps swill down and the
others dry.

One step's enough, anyhow.

This was whose?

The Napoleon buff business again,
gentlemen.

They've smacked another.

I'm afraid the affair has taken a graver
turn.

This way.

Mr. Harker, allow me to present Mr.
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.

Mr. Horace Harker of the Central Press
Syndicate.

Good of you to come, gentlemen.

Please forgive my agitation.

No apology necessary, Mr Harker. A body
on one front doorstep is always

unsettling.

You've told him, then? Not a word.

Now, tell us exactly what occurred.

Extraordinary thing.

All my life, I've been collecting other
people's news.

And now I have a real -life story of my
own and I can't put two words together.

If I had been a journalist and walked in
through that door, I would have

interviewed myself and had two columns
in every London newspaper.

And here I am, giving away valuable copy
by telling my story over and over again

to a string of different people.

However, I've heard of your name, Mr
Sherlock Holmes.

So if you could...

Explain this queer business.

I'd be more than paid for my trouble in
putting you my toy.

A great deal of my journalistic work is
done at night in my den.

In that room adjacent to this one.

At some time in the small hours of this
morning.

Thank you.

I shall live that moment over and over
again in my dreams.

Do we know who the murdered man was? Not
yet, but you can see the body at the

mortuary if you wish.

Where did you purchase your bust, Mr
Harker?

From Mr Hudson of Kennington Road.

Do we know what became of it?

The officer at the door tells me it's
been found in the front garden of an

house in Camden House Road.

I was just going round to see it. Will
you come?

In a moment, Lestrade.

Well, the intruder had either very long
legs or was the most active man. With

that area beneath, it was no mean feat
to climb up to this ledge, let alone...

to open the window.

Mr. Harker.

Will you come with us to see the remains
of your bust?

I must make something of it, although
I've no doubt that every newspaper in

London will be on the street with a full
and detailed account.

Just my luck.

Do you remember when the stand fell down
at the Doncaster races?

I was the only journalist in that stand.
My journal was the only one that didn't

have a published account because I was
too shaken to write a word.

Now, I should be too late with a murder
on my own doorstep.

Well?

We have a long way to go, but there is
one suggestive fact. He didn't smash

in the house or immediately outside it.

Well, perhaps he was so rattled and
bustled by meeting this other fellow

hardly knew what he was doing.

That's likely enough. But why did he
choose to destroy it outside this

particular house?

It's empty.

So he knew he wouldn't be disturbed.

Yes. But there's another empty house
further up the street. He must have

Why not destroy it there?

The lamp!

By Jove, you're right.

What are we to make of that?

Holmes, remember it.

Docket it.

We may come on something later which
will bear upon it. Meanwhile, before we

our separate ways, I suggest we make one
last concerted visit.

Where to?

The morgue.

Nothing of his identity up to now.

He was poorly dressed, but doesn't seem
to have been a labourer. Whoever's

responsible did an arty job on the
fellow's throat.

That was the murder weapon.

Had a serrated blade.

Though whether it belonged to the
murderer or the dead man, we don't yet

Anything in his pocket to help identify
him?

Precious little.

If it might interest you, Mr Holmes.

Forgive me, Lestrade. I was just
contemplating.

The one mystery that not even I can
solve.

Death itself.

Pray continue.

As you can see, he carries very little.

An apple, some string, a shilling map of
London.

Enough for photographs.

Part of one, it's torn.

Look.

Ugly -looking devil.

Positively Simian.

What steps do you propose next,
Lestrade?

The most practical way of getting at it,
in my opinion, is to identify the dead

man. Once we know who he is and who his
associates are, we should have a good

start in learning who killed him on the
doorstep of Mr. Horace Harker.

Don't you think so, Mr.

Holmes? No doubt. It is not the way that
I would conduct the case.

Then what would you do?

Don't let me influence you, Lestrade.

I suggest you follow your line of
inquiry and I mine.

Then we can compare notes.

They need to complement the other. But
if you are returning to Pitt Street, I

would be grateful if you would tell Mr.
Harker that I have quite made up my mind

in this matter.

I'm certain that it was a dangerous and
homicidal lunatic with Napoleonic

delusions who took our life.

We'll help him in this article.

You don't seriously believe that,
Holmes, don't I? Well, perhaps not.

I'm sure it will please Mr. Horace
Harker and the subscribers to

the Central Press Agency.

I would be grateful, Australia, if you
could make it convenient to come round

Beck Street at six o 'clock this
evening.

Until then, I would like to keep this
photograph.

Found in the dead man's pocket. Oh, Mr
Holmes, that might be a vital clue.

I trust it is, otherwise it's of no
interest to me.

Good luck this train.

What we pay our taxes for, I don't know.

When any ruffian can walk in and break
one's goods under one's nose.

A superb bit of craftsmanship it was,
too.

Taken from a marble copy of the
Emperor's Head by Devine.

Are you familiar by any chance with that
great artiste? Yes, indeed. Speaking of

familiarity, do you recognise the man in
this photograph?

Man in the photograph?

Ah, yes, indeed I do, Mr Holmes.

The name is Beppo.

Beppo? Yes, he was a sort of Italian
piecework man who made himself useful

in the shop.

Oh, he could do carve a bit and frame
and gild.

I took him on about ten days ago, but he
only stayed a week and then just

disappeared.

Didn't even collect his wages.

Perhaps he was responsible for the
breakages.

Responsible for the breakages?

Responsible for the breakages?

My dear sir, this is an international
conspiracy.

A nihilist plot.

Red Republicans, I call them.

Yeah, no one but an anarchist would go
about breaking statues.

Did they break every one that you sold?

Break every one I sold?

Well, hardly that.

Just the two bought by a local doctor
and the one left here in my shop.

If anything happened to the other three,
I know nothing of it. Three? So there

were six to begin with?

Six to begin with? Yes, yes, a batch of
six.

I ordered them especially from Gelder
and Company of Stepney.

They do excellent moulding work.

Do you happen to know the names and
addresses of the other customers?

My ledgers, Mr Holmes, are confidential.

Mr Hudson.

If your theory is correct, you oughtn't
be to warn these people of this... this

most dangerous plot.

And, uh...

Who better to do that than Mr. Sherlock
Holmes?

Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Yes, quite right, quite right, sir.

Yes, the country slumbers, but we shall
remain vigilant.

Follow me, sir.

We are. Mrs. Josiah Brown of Chiswick
and Mrs. Sanderson of Redding.

Mrs.? Yes.

Mr. Hudson?

Yes?

Did your two busts differ in any way
from the other four?

Differ from the other four?

No, no, they were all identical.

And all with the beautiful decoration,
which I ordered especially.

Yes, but apart from the decoration, were
your six busts the same as all the

others? The same as all the others?
Well, I suppose so.

But you'd have to apply direct to
Gelderland Company to find that out in

Excellent idea.

Uh, gentlemen.

Gentlemen! When you meet the manager,
would you be good enough to warn him of

the conspiracy?

With all the busts they have on the
premises, the Red Republicans could have

field day.

Normally, we've had the busts. without
decoration.

But Mr. Hudson ordered that the whole
uniform be painted.

It was expertly done and made it a very
special issue.

In terms of the construction, however,
there is no reason why these six

Napoleon's we sold to him should be
different from hundreds of others.

You see, the two molds are poured
together and filled with plaster to make

these parts.

Are they solid?

Morning. Of course.

Then they are placed in a special room
to die and afterwards stored.

The wholesale price is six shillings,
but the retailer will get twelve or

I can't think of no reason.

Someone will wish to destroy them.

Or murder for them.

Well.

So, your interest in the molding process
had ulterior motives.

Herr Mendelstam, I wonder if you happen
to recognize the man in this photograph.

Ah, little rascal.

Yes, indeed.

I'm very well.

This has always been a respectable
establishment, and the only time we ever

the police in here was over this fellow.

About a year ago, he knifed another
Italian in the street, and down in here

the police on his heels.

Was his name Beppo, by any chance?

Beppo, yes.

His second name I never knew.

Served me right for employing a man with
such a face.

But he was a good workman, one of the
best.

Do you happen to remember exactly when
he was arrested?

I could check the pay list.

According to Morse Hudson's records,
you've held him six Napoleons on June

3rd of last year.

I see.

That is correct.

And Beppo?

Last court acted his wages on May the
20th of that same year. Then he must

been arrested sometime the following
week.

Well, no doubt the police have the exact
details.

The young Italian survived, so Beppo
went only to prison for one year.

We have a cousin of his wife. Back in
here, perhaps you would wish to speak

him? No.

Not a word to the cousin, I beg of you.

The matter is very important, and the
further I go with it, the more important

it seems.

So, yeah, I really thought his cousin
might know when Beppo is to be released.

Herr Mendelstam, if my surmises are
correct,

our friend Beppo has been out of jail
for at least 11 days.

Ach, du lieber Gott.

What do you mean? The press is a very
valuable institution if one knows how to

use it.

Very cunning, Holmes.

Thank you, Watson.

Let's trade.

Mr. Holmes.

Doctor. Please, sit down.

Oh.

Thank you.

Well, um... What luck, Mr. Holmes.

We've had a very busy day.

Not entirely wasted.

I can trace each of them apart.

now from the beginning.

The busts.

Well, of course, you have your own
methods, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Not for me to say a word against them,
but I think I've done a better day's

than you.

I've identified the dead man.

Splendid. Who is it?

Pietro Venucci, son of a respectable
Italian tradesman, but involved with a

secret political society.

Red anarchists?

Oh, you've been talking to Morse Hudson,
haven't you?

Do go on, Lestrade.

I refer, of course, to the Mafia, which,
as you may know, enforces its decrees

by assassination.

Obviously, our murderer broke the rules
in some fashion, and Pietro is put on

his track, possibly with that photograph
to aid identification.

They meet, and Pietro receives his own
death wound in the scuffle.

Excellent, Lestrade, but I don't quite
follow your explanation of the

destruction of the baths.

They can never get those butts out of
your head. The butts are nothing.

Petty last me six months at most. No,
no, no.

It's murder we're really investigating.

And I tell you, I'm gathering all the
threads into my hand.

And the next stage?

Oh, well, now.

We have an inspector who's made a
speciality of the Italian Quarter.

I shall go down there with him, find the
man in that photograph you're carrying,

arrest him for murder.

What do you say, Mr Holmes?

Will you come with us?

I think not.

I fancy Chiswick as the address most
likely to find him.

Chiswick? If you and some of your men
will come with us to Chiswick tonight, I

will go to the Italian quarter with you
tomorrow, and there will be no harm in

the delay.

I suggest you dine with us.

And then you're welcome to the sofa.

A few hours' sleep will do us all good.

I don't intend to leave the house before
eleven.

And it is unlikely that we shall be home
before morning.

But, Mr. Holmes... In the meantime, I
have a letter to send by express

messenger. Mrs. Hudson!

Mrs. Hudson!

She's sick.

Queste non sono cose da donne.

Ho disonorato la famiglia.

E lo devo fare io.

Sono io il capo famiglia.

È mio dovere.

Clock, gentlemen, on your feet.

Come along, Lestrade.

Watson, I think you've been over
-generous with the port.

You're frugal enough with your
information.

Ah, that will be our poor wheeler.

Don't forget the revolver, Watson, and
bring the rugs.

This outing wouldn't be inspired by your
I .D. fix, would it? I .D. fix?

Yes. There was plaster bust.

I had great hopes, Lestrade.

In fact, the betting is exactly two to
one, that if you come with us tonight,

you'll have the murderer in custody
before the sun rises.

I'm not a betting man, Mr. Holmes. Then
you have nothing to lose by, do you?

Except a good night's sleep.

Watson, if you've caught a cold, it's
your fault.

You left the rugs behind.

Sorry, Holmes.

Is that two o 'clock?

Don't suppose we can smoke, can we? No.
No, thought as much.

Are your men in position?

Oh, yes.

Have a humbug, Lestrade.

Watson, this is no time for humbugs.

Becton. And then Pepper.

Good name for a mongrel.

You leave by the back door.

How do you know that? Because all the
other doors are locked.

Oh, dear.

It's smashed.

Mr. Josiah Brown, I presume. Yes, sir.
And you know that one, Mr. Sherlock

Holmes. I had the note you sent by the
express messenger, and I did exactly as

you told me.

Following your instructions, we locked
every door so as to lead him into the

back. And I'm very glad to see you have
the rascal.

Now, I hope, gentlemen, that you will
come in and partake of some refreshment.

Thank you, Mr. Brown.

The hour is rather late.

Good night.

Oh, good night.

Well, Watson, we have work to do. Work?

What work?

Lestrade, if you will come round to
Baker Street tonight at six o 'clock, I

to be able to show you that you still
have not grasped the full meaning of

business. Oh, I think you'll find my
theory of the Mafia will work out all

right, Mr Holmes.

Good night, Lestrade.

Come along now.

Make a street, please.

And now, Watson, I commend to you the
universal answer to almost all problems.

What's that, Holmes?

Sleep.

Buon giorno.

Cati come questi.

E' importante.

Ecco, signor Holmes.

Grazie, signor.

Morning, Watson.

The manager of Gelder and Company was
mainly responsible for Beppo's initial

arrest. We see the breaking of the bus
as a pathetic attempt to revenge

And it was possibly the senseless acts
of violence which transgressed the

Mafia's code of behaviour and led to the
murder of young Venucci.

There.

Think that takes care of those details
you mentioned last night?

Don't you, Mr Holmes?

Yes, Watson. Well, what do you think of
Lestrade's theories?

I'm sure that they have the greatest
interest, but I regret to say I've not

listened to a word of them. Forgive my
inattention, Lestrade. I had a rather

late night. What do you think I had?

Come in.

Isn't the Sherlock Holmes here?

I fear I am a little late, but the
trains were very awkward.

No matter, no matter, have you brought
the item?

Well,

these are my friends and colleagues, Dr
Watson and Inspector Lestrade of

Scotland Yard. You may speak freely in
front of them.

Gentlemen, you said in your telegram
that Mr Hudson had given you my address.

Santa for the ready. How do you do?

It's those butts again.

Correct, Lestrade.

Did he also tell you just how much my
wife paid for it?

No, he did not.

Well, sir, I am an honest man, though
not a very rich one, and she only gave

shillings for it, and I think you ought
to know that before I take the 10 pounds

from you that you offered in your
telegram. I have scrupled, don't you

honor, Mr. Sandler, but I have stated my
price, and I shall stick to it.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Holmes. That's very
handsome of you. Your bust, sir.

You know, my wife has always maintained
that there is a marked resemblance

between myself and the emperor.

Can't say I see it myself.

Napoleon. I contacted Mr. Sandford by
telegram this morning.

Now, if you will sign this paper in
front of witnesses, it is fit to say

that you transfer every possible right
that you could ever have in the bust to

me. Happy to, Mr. Holmes. Happy, happy,
happy. I am a methodical man, and one

never knows what turn events may take
afterwards. Here is your pen pound

and good evening, Mr.

Sandford. Oh, thank you very much, Mr.
Holmes. Good evening, gentlemen.

Okay. And very, very kind of you. And
thank you so much. And I'm very pleased

I'm here. Thank you so much. Oh, my bad.

Now, gentlemen, if you would give me
your undivided attention.

Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to
one of the most precious objects in the

world.

The famous black pearl of the Borgias.

Oh, oh, bravo!

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!

Oh, your Leisure de Main.

Rivals that of Matclay himself?

Oh, this is a part of it.

The Borgia Pearl's been missing since it
disappeared from the Prince of

Colonna's bedroom in that Dacre Hotel
over a year ago.

As you may remember, the state I was
consulted upon the case at the time.

Observe and learn.

The moment the name Venucci surfaced in
this case, I immediately became

intrigued.

The princess of Colonna's maid for some
time had been one Lucrezia Venucci.

Suspicion fell on her.

And it was proved that she had a brother
in London, but we failed to trace any

connection between them.

Beppo was the connection.

He had been courting.

Lucrezia Venucci.

For some time.

Where did you get that?

Papa Venucci.

Oh, I see.

When the Venucci family planned to steal
the black pearl, they used Beppo as a

go -between for Lucrezia and her
brother.

Beppo gleaned enough information to
execute the robbery himself and make off

with the pearl.

Pietro Venucci, the brother, caught up
with him outside Gelder's workshop.

Beppo... tabbed him, he then fled into
the warehouse and took refuge in the

drying room.

He knew he only had moments in which to
conceal the pearl, which would otherwise

be found on him when he was searched.

Among all the plaster casts drying that
day, he made for a batch of six that had

been earmarked for Morse Hudson, and the
base of one of them was still fast.

place.

As soon as Beppo got out of prison, he
managed to find employment with Mr.

Hutton and set about tracking the six
Napoleons down.

He found and destroyed three of them.

But the night he located Harker's,
Pietro Venucci, intent on vengeance,

accosted him and this time Beppo.

Flit his throat. With only two busts
left, it was likely he would try the

one first.

And our visit to Chiswick. Exactly,
Watson.

That left only the Reading bust.

I bought it in your presence from the
owner.

And there it lies.

Well, Mr Holmes.

I've seen you handle a good many cases
in my time.

But I don't know that I ever knew a more
workmanlike one than this.

We're not jealous of you, you know,
Scotland Yard.

Oh, sir, we're proud of you.

And if you come down tomorrow, there's
not a man from the oldest inspector to

the youngest constable.

I wouldn't be glad to shake you by the
hand.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Would you get down the conch, Fingleton,
forgery case, please, Watson?

Goodbye, Lestrade.

Now, if any little problem comes your
way, I shall be happy, if I can, to give

you a hint or two as to its solution.

Bye.

E' finita, Lucrezia.