Original subtitles

Look, Father, we have been through all this. Do as I tell you, boy, you damn

disobedient little bastard.

Give me the gun. It's my life, and I'm going to run it the way I like.

Get off, Alan.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Caught anything?

Not yet.

Home! What on earth are you doing here?

Looking for you.

Now carry on, my dear fellow. Don't let me disturb you.

What on earth are you doing here?

A case has brought me this way.

What sort of case?

The newspapers are calling it the Boston Valley Mystery. I expect you've read

something of it.

Not a word. I haven't seen a paper for days.

A farmer called McCarthy, Australian by birth, met his death by a mirror at the

bottom of his farm.

They seem to have established a very serious case against the son of the

murdered man.

There's a big one just under that rock.

So then it's, um...

A murder?

Well, it's conjecture to be so.

Of course, I shall take nothing for granted until I've had a chance to look

it personally.

Naturally.

I don't wish to spoil your holiday, but I was wondering if I could persuade you

to join me for a couple of days.

Well, of course.

Are you sure?

I should be delighted.

Then we must move quickly.

Our local train leaves in 35 minutes.

Bots and all this fresh air will kill me.

Well, the London press don't seem much interested. Not very full account.

No.

No.

So much for the London press. It all seems depressingly simple. What

you to take an interest in this place? This.

Bothcombe Valley Mystery. There has been a grave miscarriage of justice.

The matter is urgent. We need your help.

Please come if you can.

Alice Turner. Good heavens.

Who is Alice Turner?

She's the daughter of a Mr. Turner, also Australian, who owns this whole estate.

Well, it's a mystery, not murder to Miss Turner.

Note the we, Watson.

We need your help. If ever there was a cry from the heart, that is it. It leaps

from the paper. Have you seen this lady?

No, not yet.

Do you remember the certain Sergeant Somerby?

Somerby? Oh, it's a case of a counterfeit Spanish dollar. Mexican.

A pleasant fellow. Much admired your methods, did he not?

Probably his reason for promotion to inspector.

He is in charge of the case, and it was he who organised this accommodation for

us. Us? You presumed that I would come. No, not presumed. Watson hoped.

Very much hoped.

Well, Mr Holm, and you, Doctor.

It's a pleasure to see you again.

Congratulations on your promotion, Inspector.

Thank you, Doctor.

It's a quiet district as a rule, but nonetheless my own.

I have a carriage waiting.

Ah, oh.

McCarthy, the murdered man, rented a farm called Hatherley from Mr Turner. It

was one of the largest landed proprietors in this part of the country.

He made his money in Australia.

I presume that both being colonials, they had much in common. Old friends, I

believe. Well, Mr. Turner has been in failing health for some time.

He has a daughter called Alice.

An only child and a most charming one.

We surmise that Miss Turner and the McCarthy boy are friends.

Great friends.

It was Miss Turner who brings me here.

All I know, Mr. Holmes, and to be quite honest with you, I'm surprised you came.

Well, the case is as plain as a packstuff.

The more one goes into it, the plainer it becomes.

So I have warned Miss Turner that this time, not even Mr. Sherlock Holmes will

be able to work miracles.

There we are.

Beautiful countryside.

Yes, yes, indeed. This is Boscombe Valley.

And over there at the bottom is Boscombe Mere, where the murder took place.

A peaceful place for a tragedy.

Any witnesses?

I expected that question, Mr. Holmes.

The principal witness is William Crowder, one of Mr. Turner's

It was after I'd had my dinner.

Last Monday it was. The third of June.

Ah, that's right.

Now, I've fed the young pheasants.

Poults, we call them.

You were planting out lettuces.

Ah, that's right.

I was setting out some lettuces.

Those lettuces over there.

When my little girl Patience comes running up.

Won't be the first time.

Well, don't you worry about it, Patience. Take no concern of ours.

Go on, in you go.

That Mr McCarthy, he had a temper, that man, you know. Oh, aye.

You know, if he thought another gun had poached his bird out shooting, he'd let

fly in a real fury.

Was the boy the same way inclined? No milk.

No.

No, not that I've noticed, anyway.

No, he always seemed a nice enough boy.

Surprised him doing such a thing.

But then again, he was provoked.

No doubt.

Who's to say?

You tell the gentleman what happened next.

What? You haven't forgotten what you said in evidence of the inquest.

Forgotten?

I shan't forget that day, not so long as I am live.

I just sent patients in to a mother.

And I haven't planted out no more than another half box.

When young McCarthy comes running up, looking like he's seen a ghost.

My father's met with a terrible accident. Please, come with me. I need

help. Where is he? Down by the mere.

Is he alive?

You just come along with me.

I brought him back here, and I sent my wife down in the trap for the police.

Did the boy say anything?

No. No, no, not a word. He just sat there where you are, sobbing and

And I didn't take my eyes off him till they came for him, and that's the truth.

Did you examine the gun at all?

The butt, for instance?

No, no, not especially.

There was a bit of mud on it.

He wiped it.

He wiped it.

Well, I might have done.

I mean, it would have been natural, wouldn't it?

There was Mr McCarthy lying there dead with his head bashed in. He hadn't got

that way swatting wasps, had he? You believe that the boy killed his father?

Of course I do, sir.

I mean, who else could have done it?

I can tell you this much, gentlemen.

Right, now, I'm a gamekeeper, right?

And when a man's got a gun in his hand, strange things can happen. Who am I?

Now, I've seen men, quiet, law -abiding gentlemen, you put a gun in their hands,

they turn into near maniacs. Thank you so much, Mr Crowley, for giving so much

of your valuable time.

Well, it's been a pleasure, gentlemen.

It's not the first time I've been able to help the cause of justice. No, not by

a long choke.

Well, last year, Candlemas time, you remember, Inspector?

No, I'm a liar. It were two years ago. Well, we must be on our way.

Well, I'm on the side of law and order, sir. The Inspector will tell you that.

Indeed, you are, Crowder.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

They're all the same, these country people.

Once they get an audience, they're taught they aren't like other donkey.

Now, if you follow me, I'll take you down to the scene of the crime. No need

the moment.

That's very true. No need in the circumstances.

It's a sad case, but a pretty clear one. The glass is high.

Weather's set fair.

I should like to call on James McCarthy.

I can arrange it if you wish. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

One more thing I should tell you, Mr. Holmes.

When the boy was charged with the murder, he didn't appear in the least

surprised. In fact, he said it was no more than his desert.

Those were his very words.

A confession?

You might think so.

Did he also protest his innocence?

Yes. But then again, they always do, don't they?

I think we'd best be getting back to the hotel. I have some calls to make on the

estate.

Till tomorrow.

Boss commands.

The boy's pretty got no more than his dessert. Oh, that's a pretty suspicious

remark. I mean, coming after such a damning period of events.

On the contrary, it's the brightest which I can see in the clouds at

Self -aggression and contrition displayed by his remark appears to me to

signs of a healthy mind rather than a guilty one.

Many men have been hanged on far lighter evidence.

So they have, and many men have been hanged wrongfully.

Oh, look. Up there.

Hmm.

Witness.

That's James McCarthy.

I had a conversation with my father which led to high words and almost to

As his temper was becoming ungovernable, I left him and went up the hill.

I hadn't gone more than 100 yards when I heard a hideous outcry which caused

me to run back again.

I found my father expiring on the ground with his head terribly injured.

Did you see anyone near your father when you returned?

No, no one.

I have no idea how he came by his injury.

He was not a popular man, but as far as I know, he had no active enemies.

I know nothing further of the matter.

Did your father say anything to you before he died?

He mumbled a few words, but all I could catch was some allusion to a rat.

Silence! Be quiet!

And what did you understand by that?

It conveyed nothing to me.

I thought... Well, I thought he was delirious.

What was the point upon which you and your father had the final quarrel?

I should prefer not to answer that question, sir.

I'm afraid that I must press it. It really is impossible for me to tell you.

But I can assure you that it had nothing to do with the sad tragedy that

followed. That is for the court to decide.

I need hardly point out to you that your refusal to answer will prejudice your

case considerably in any future proceedings which may arise.

You may sit down.

Gentlemen of the jury, you are here to discover the cause of death of Mr.

William McCarthy and thereafter to deliver your verdict.

You have heard the facts of this crime.

I believe they make the situation very clear.

Mr...

James McCarthy's account of his father's dying is singular, to say the least.

His refusal to give any details of their last conversation must go very much

against him.

A verdict of willful murder would seem to me to fit the facts we have heard.

I hope I make myself clear.

So, willful murder it was, Monsters.

Well, the boy did rather ask for it.

My dear Watson, did you see that both you and the coroner have been in some

pains to think about the strongest points in the young man's favour?

Don't you see that you alternatively give him credit for too much imagination

too little? Too little if he could not invent a quarrel which would give him

sympathy of the jury. Too much if he evolved from his own inner consciousness

anything so outre as a dying reference to a rat.

Well, these country coroners do think they're little tin -pot gods.

It's an absolute scandal.

No, no, no.

I shall approach this case from the point of view that what this young man

is true.

We have a visitor.

Our young client has arrived.

Come in.

I'm so glad you've come, Mr Holmes.

I'm Alice Turner.

This is my friend and colleague, Dr Watson.

Dr Watson, of course.

It is you who have written down some of Mr Holmes' cases in such an interesting

way.

You see, I know all about you, Mr Holmes, and your wonderful success.

If you knew how much we need you now, do you yet know anything of what happened?

Please sit down, Miss Turner.

The Inspector Comerby has told me something of it.

Oh, yes, the Inspector.

He gave me your address.

He's quite a kind man, isn't he?

But he doesn't understand.

How could he? He's a policeman.

Mr Holmes, I know that James didn't do it.

I know it.

And I want you to start your work knowing it too.

Never let yourself doubt upon that point.

Have you known James McCarthy a long time?

Yes, all my life.

We have known each other since we were children.

But he is too tender -hearted to hurt a fly.

This charge is just absurd to anyone who really knows him.

Well, I hope that we may clear him.

I should do all I can.

But from what you've heard already, do you not think he's innocent?

I think it is probable.

I don't think my friend is so convinced.

Well, I think that Mr. Holmes has been a little quick in his conclusions.

But you are right.

Oh, I know that you are right. James never did it.

This quarrel with his father, which you would not talk about to the coroner, do

you know anything of it?

I believe it was because I was concerned in it.

In what way?

It is no time to hide anything now.

James and his father had many disagreements about me.

Mr McCarthy was very anxious that there should be a marriage between us.

James and I have always loved each other like brother and sister.

Of course, we haven't seen so much of each other lately.

I have been away at boarding school for some years, and James has been studying

in Liverpool.

He is only 22 and has seen very little of life and... Well, I suppose he does

not wish to do anything like that just yet.

So there were quarrels.

And this, I'm sure, was one of them.

How old are you, Miss Turner?

I'm 18.

Quite nearly 19.

As you say, this isn't a time to hide anything.

Are you in love with James McCarthy?

Yes, I am, Mr. Holmes.

Very much in love.

There is no one else and never will be.

Even if... And he with you?

I think so.

I hope so.

But how should I know for sure?

We have never discussed marriage.

Was your father in favour of such a union?

No.

He was averse to it.

No one but Mr McCarthy was in favour of it.

Thank you for being so frank with us.

If I was to visit your father, could I see him, please?

I'm afraid not.

The doctor has forbidden any visitors.

Oh, I'm sorry we did not know he was so ill.

My father has never been strong, but this has broken him completely.

He is taken to his bed and Dr Willow says that he is a wreck and his nervous

system is shattered.

I can hardly leave him or I would have been at the railway station to meet you.

You see, Mr McCarthy was the only man alive who had known Dad in the old days

Australia.

Australia? In Victoria, at the mines, the gold mines.

That's where Dad made all his money.

You have been of material assistance to me.

Will you be able to see James?

Tomorrow.

Tell him that I know him to be innocent.

I will.

Could you give him this?

Of course.

And if you have any news, you will tell me.

I must go home now.

I left my father asleep, but if he wakes and I'm not there, he'll be upset.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

And God help you in your undertaking.

May I see him alone, please?

As you wish, Mr. Holmes. But remember, this man is on remand accused of willful

murder. And as you will know, such a man under such circumstances is unlikely to

speak the truth. Oh, thank you. You're good at that.

James McCarthy.

My name is Sherlock Holmes. I'm here to help you.

How should I know that?

You came with a police inspector. I saw him out there.

I'm here.

At the request of an Eterna.

I have to endow.

Lately I've learned not no one.

I'm afraid you've come too late.

They've already made up their minds that I am guilty.

Well, I have not.

Not the coroner's court. The coroner and the coroner's jury enlisted to inquire

into the facts.

They do not fit in judgment.

Well, how can I help you?

I'd like you to tell me exactly what happened.

Let us sit down over here where we can talk quietly and not be overheard.

Why shall I start?

You choose.

Well, I've been studying in Liverpool for some three years. My father was most

anxious I should have some academic qualifications.

It was on that day, June the 3rd, that I returned home.

Was your father expecting you?

No, no, not exactly. He knew I was due for a few days' holiday, but not the

exact day.

A local carrier took me up to the farm from the village.

Nice to see you back, Master James. Oh, it's nice to be back, George.

Is my father in the house? No, no.

Went off about five minutes ago.

Looks as though he had something on his mind.

All right, then.

Will you be wanting pony later?

No, no. I'll write tomorrow.

Might take the gun, see if I can put a few rabbits.

They need shooting.

Place is crawling with them.

Welcome.

What's up, brother?

James?

What are you doing here?

I'm just back for a few days, that's all.

Well, I don't want you down here.

So get off out of it. Keep away from me. Do you understand?

Yes.

Why? None of your damn business. Just do as you're told.

James.

over to Turner's place and tell that girl you'll marry her. I'll do no such

thing, Luke, Father. We have been through all this before. Do as I tell

boy, you damn disobedient little bastard.

Give me the gun.

Give me the gun. It's my life, and I'm going to run it the way I like.

All right.

Damn you.

I'll throw you out.

I'll ruin you.

You see.

Now get off and out of it!

I had hardly gone any distance at all when I heard a terrible scream.

I ran back down and found my father lying on his side.

Did you see anyone else?

No one.

No movement anywhere?

No, my attention was entirely on my father. He was terribly wounded.

You would not tell the coroner about this quarrel with your father.

If it was something private, it was no business of his.

Was it not because this confrontation with your father might seem to

you?

No.

No, it was because it concerned Alan.

It was no business of the coroner's or anyone else's.

I wasn't going to have her name bandied about in the courtroom.

You do know that...

Alice loves you, James.

And believes you to be innocent.

Yes, I know.

The thought of her love and her faith in me has kept me in some sort of insanity

in this horrible place.

And yet you did not wish to marry her, as your father so clearly wished.

Perhaps you did not share her love.

I did.

I do, Mr. Holmes.

I love Alice Turner. I adore her. I worship the very ground she treads on.

But... And yet?

I could not ask her to marry me because... because I was married

Don't you think you'd better tell me about it?

When I first started studying in Liverpool, my father gave me a very

allowance. I was too generous for my own good.

I became very wild and fell in with a bad set of people.

In a bit of drunken madness, I went through a form of marriage in a register

office to a woman much older than I was.

I hardly ever saw Alice at that time.

Of course, I couldn't tell my father. He would certainly have thrown me out as

he'd so often threatened.

Yes, I'm sure he would.

Have you any idea who would have killed your father so brutally?

None whatsoever.

Do you know, I go over the scene day after day after day in my mind.

But I am as puzzled as everyone else is.

Don't give up, though.

Thank you, Mr Holmes.

Oh, Mr Holmes.

It hardly concerns all this business, but perhaps I should tell you.

Some good has come out of this evil.

Since I've been in here, I've received a message from the woman I married who

has read in the newspapers that I am in serious trouble and likely to be hanged.

She wrote that she had a husband already in the Bermuda dockyard.

Good heavens.

There is no legal tie between us.

If only I had known before.

You're right, Tony.

Poor fellow.

Must have been maddening to be upraided by his father for not doing something he

would give his very eyes to do.

If he didn't,

Who did it? Indeed.

Perhaps I can help. I've not been entirely idle in your absence.

In the surgeon's deposition at the inquest, it states that the posterior

of the left parietal bone and the left half of the occipital bone were

by blows from a blunt weapon. Now, that's here, behind.

But the evidence states that they were quarrelling face to face.

That's a very nice piece of deduction, Watson.

Thank you.

But hardly a valid one.

MacArthur could have easily turned his back the moment the girl had run off.

But I'm so glad that you're coming round to my way of thinking.

And maternal, the boy's innocent.

Now, you're putting words into my mouth. I didn't say that.

But you're thinking it, just a little.

Those boots were the ones the master was wearing at the time he was murdered,

sir.

I've cleaned them up since, of course.

Those?

Those are a pair of Master Jameses.

You bought them new last Michaelmas.

Thank you, George. Now, let us go down to the mirror.

This is the place, Mr Holmes.

You still see traces of the blood.

Please, would you keep clear of this area?

Why did you enter the mirror, Inspector?

Well, fished about with the rake. Thought there might be some weapon

there or some other trace.

If only I'd been here before they came, like I heard a buffalo and wallowed all

over it.

This must be the gamekeeper and his gang.

These tracks, the young McCarthy's.

And these.

Twice he walked.

Once he ran.

So the soles of the feet are deeply marked, the heels are hardly visible.

That would bear out his story. He ran when he saw his father on the ground.

It's work, I take to say that.

The father paced up and down, right here.

What have we here?

Tiptoes.

Tiptoes.

Square toes.

Most unusual boots.

Where did Mr. Square Toes come from?

He'd have made a rare blowdown for Mr.

Holmes.

It has been a case of considerable interest.

Come.

Thank you, George.

Thank you, sir.

Would you deliver this note?

Yes, sir, indeed.

Right away.

This way, Mr. Inspector.

The murderer was done with.

See no mark?

There are none.

Well, how do you know that? The grass was growing under it.

It's only been there a few days. It corresponds with the injuries.

And the murderer?

He's a tall man, left -handed, limps with the right leg, wears thick, cold

shooting boots with square toes, smokes Indian cigars, uses a cigar holder.

and carries a blunt penknife in his pocket.

You're a brilliant man, Mr. Holmes, and I wish I had your brains.

Your theories are all very well, but I'm still not convinced.

Not this time.

We have to deal with a hard -headed British jury.

Well, you've had your chance, Inspector.

I'm a practical man, Mr. Holmes.

I cannot undertake to go around the country looking for a left -handed

with a gummy leg.

Has he become the laughing stock of Cheshire?

You shall see.

You work your methods, I shall work mine.

Now, let us take this morning's work.

From my examination of the ground, I gained details as to the personality of

criminal. But how?

You know my method.

It is founded upon the observance of trifles.

Its height, I know you might roughly judge by the length of his stride, its

boots by his traces, but the man's lameness... The impression of his right

was always less distinct than that of the left. Why? Because he limped.

His left -handedness.

A blow was delivered from immediately behind him, yet it was on the left -hand

foot. He must have been a left -handed man, of course.

He stood behind that tree during the confrontation between father and son.

He even smoked there.

Smoked?

Cigar ash.

An Indian cigar.

You will remember my little monograph on the subject of ashes from pipe, cigar,

and cigarette tobacco.

One hundred different varieties, if I remember.

A hundred and forty, thank you, Watson.

Having discovered the ash, I discovered this stump, which the man had

thrown among the moss.

An Indian cigar rolled in Rotterdam.

You'll notice that the end has not been in his mouth.

So he used a cigar holder.

The tip has been cut off, not bitten.

But the cut is not a clean one, so I deduced a blunt penknife.

You're lazy.

Among the words mumbled by the dying man, the only word that young McCarthy

could understand was the word...

Rat.

Rat.

Most curious.

Come with me.

Now, what do you read?

A rat.

And now?

Oh, a rat.

Ballarat. That is the word the man uttered. Come on from Ballarat. What is

Ballarat known for? It's Goldfields. Miss Turner said that her father had met

McCarthy on the Goldfields. I don't need a direction with all this point. An

Australian from Ballarat and one who was at home in the district.

I sound very much mistaken.

He's here.

Mr John Turner.

Mr. Banff.

Dr. Watson.

My daughter told me you were lodging here.

Did you get my note?

Yes, yes.

Something about coming here to avoid a scandal.

Better than meeting up at the hall.

People might talk.

Why do you wish to see me?

I promise it will not be useless. It is absolutely needed.

Do it then.

You didn't know the dead man McCarthy.

He was a devil incarnate.

God keep you out of the clutches of a man such as he.

His grip has been upon me these many years and he's blasted my life.

I'll tell you first how I came to be in his power.

It was in the early 60s at the Deans.

I was a young chap then.

Hot -blooded and reckless.

Well, I had no luck with my claim.

Took to the bush and became what you'd call a highway robber.

There was a little gang of us.

I lived a wild, free life of it, sticking up a station from time to time

stopping the wagon on the road from the diggings.

They called me Black Jack of Ballarat.

I believe they still remember the Ballarat gang and the colony.

The wagon driver was McCarthy, and I spared him. Get out of it!

Go on, shift!

Do a botany! Pass!

We got away with a goal.

My mate and I were wealthy men beyond the dreams of avarice.

There was... There was...

There

was a price on our heads.

I decided to make for England.

I determined to settle down to a quiet and respectable life.

I bought the dictate and included the whole village, even within his mind.

I set myself to do a little good with my money to make up for the way in which

I'd earned it.

I married.

And though my darling wife died young, she left me my dear little Alice.

I was a happy man, you might say.

until McCarthy laid his grip upon me.

He followed my trail.

When he first came here, he'd hardly had a coat to his back or a boot to his

foot.

Here we are, Jack, he said.

You can have a keeping of us, me and my little boy.

And if you don't, England's a fine law -abiding country and there's always a

policeman, Andy.

I was a sitting duck for blackmail.

There was no shaking him off.

There was no rest, no peace, no forgetfulness. Turn where I would, there

cunning, grinning face at me elbow.

Whatever he wanted, he must have, and whatever it was, I gave him without

question.

Land, money, how it is.

Till at last he asked a thing I could not give.

He asked for Alice.

His son and my girl had grown up.

He knew I was in weak health.

Seemed a fine stroke to him that his son should step into the whole property.

But there I was firm.

I would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine. Not that I had any dislike

for the lad, but his father's blood was in him, and that was enough.

I stood firm.

McCarthy threatened.

I braved him to do his worst.

We arranged to meet at the mere halfway between our two houses to talk it over.

James. As I listened to his talk, all that was black and bitter seemed to come

uppermost. He was urging his son to marry my daughter with as little regard

what she might think as a slut from off the street.

Do as I tell you, boy, you damn disobedient little bastard!

It drove me mad to think that I and all that I held dear should be in the power

of such a man.

Go on. It's my life, and I'm going to run it the way I like.

I was a dying and desperate man.

If I could silence that foul tongue, I could still save me and my family's

reputation in this valley. Get off out of it!

I did it, Mr. Holmes, and I would do it again.

Deeply, though I have sinned, I've lived a life of martyrdom to atone for it.

And my girl should become entangled in the same meshes which held me was more

than I could suffer.

I've struck him down with no more compunction than if he'd been some foul

venomous beast.

That is the true story, gentlemen.

Of all that occurred.

It is not for me to judge you, but I hope that we may never be exposed to

temptation.

I pray not, sir.

I'm a dying man.

I've had the diabetes for years.

My doctor says it's a question of whether I shall live a month.

Ed, I'd rather die under my own roof than in a jail.

Doug McCarthy must be got off, however.

Oh, God help me, but I wouldn't let that young man come to harm.

I'll give you my word that I'd have spoken out if it went against him at the

Assizes. I'm very glad to hear you say so.

I'd have spoken now had it not been for my dear girl.

I would break her heart.

I'll break her heart when she hears that I'm arrested.

It may not come to that.

We are not the police.

I am no official agent.

I'm here at your daughter's request.

Alice. Alice.

Then what do you intend to do?

In view of your health, nothing.

You are yourself aware that you will have to answer for your deed at a higher

court than the Assizes.

If young McCarthy is condemned, I shall be forced to use this confession.

If not,

it will never be seen by a mortal eye.

And your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe with us.

Farewell, then.

Your own deathbeds, when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the

peace that you've given to mine.

Turner, John Stewart, 16th of August, Boscombe Hall, Cheshire.

After a long illness, bravely born, beloved father of Alice.

Now, we're free to use that confession at young McCarthy's trial.

No, by no means.

My promise was it would not be used unless McCarthy is condemned.

And I think I've given enough objections to the charge to ensure his acquittal.

I hope so.

I love you.

I love you, too.

Will you marry me?

Yes, I will.

A happy ending to a brilliant case.

I congratulate you, Holmes.

I thank you. I must admit there are certain aspects to this case which even

did not anticipate.