All language subtitles for Sherlock.Holms 2009 4K NL

Head cocked to the left...

partial deafness in ear.

First point of attack.

2, throat. Paralyze vocal cords.
Stop screaming.

3, got to be heavy drinker.
Floating rib to the liver.

4, finally, dragging left leg.
Fist to patella.

Summary of prognosis,
conscious in 90 seconds.

Martial efficacy, quarter of an hour.

Full faculty recovery, unlikely.

I like the hat.

I just picked it up.

Did you remember your revolver?

Knew I forgot something.

- Thought I'd left the stove on.
- You did.

I think that's quite enough.

You are a doctor, after all.

Always nice to see you, Watson.

Where's the inspector?

He's getting his troops lined up.

That could be all day.

Sherlock Holmes.

And his loyal dog.

Tell me, doctor...

as a medical man,
have you enjoyed my work?

Let me show you
how much I've enjoyed it.

Watson. Don't.

Observe.

How did you see that?

Because I was looking for it.

Lord Blackwood.

You seem surprised.

I'd say the girl deserves your attention
more than he.

Indeed.

I'd leave that alone
if I were you, boy-o.

Good lad.

Impeccable timing, Lestrade.

We've one for the doctor...

and one for the rope.

- Clarkie?
- Sir?

This woman needs a hospital
immediately.

Put her in the back of the Moriah.

Right, lads. That's it.

- Right. Pick him up, lads.
- Yes, sir.

If you don't mind.

Get him out of my sight.

And you were supposed to
wait for my orders.

If I had, you'd be cleaning up a corpse
and chasing a rumor.

Besides, the girl's parents hired me,
not the Yard.

Why they thought you'd require
any assistance is beyond me.

Well, London will breathe a sigh of relief.

Indeed. Congratulations, Lestrade.

Bravo, inspector. Have a cigar.

Gentlemen.

Cheese.

Blackwood hangs tomorrow.
Read all about it.

156 over 80. Very good.

My nerves are the best they've been
in years, thanks to you.

Tell me something.

Your new premises...

when are you moving in?

I should be in within the week.

Cavendish Place.
And there'll be a woman's touch too.

- Well, that's marvelous.
- Indeed.

Good God.

- That was gunfire.
- No.

No, no. Hammer and nail, wasn't it?

My colleague's probably
just putting up a painting.

I'll... I'll go and check.

- Your colleague...
- Yes?

Won't be moving with you, will he?

No, he won't.

Mrs. Hudson.

I won't go in,
not while he's got a gun in his hand.

You don't have to. Give me the paper.

What'll I do when you leave, doctor?
He'll have the whole house down.

He just needs another case. That's all.

Couldn't you have a longer engagement?

I smell gunpowder. It's not right, you know,
not in a domestic environment.

Thank you, Captain Philips.
Perhaps a nice cup of tea?

- Same time next week.
- Come along, captain.

- It's quieter downstairs.
- Mrs. Hudson?

Bring something to cheer him up.

Permission to enter the armory?

Granted.

Watson, I am in the process
of inventing a device...

that suppresses the sound
of a gunshot.

It's not working.

Can I see that?

You know, it's been 3 months...

since your last case.

Yes, yes. Gently, gently, Watson.
Be gentle with me...

Don't you think it's time
you found another one?

I can't but agree.

My mind rebels at stagnation.
Give me problems. Give me work.

The sooner, the better.

Paper.

Let's see, then. There's a letter here...

from Mrs. Ramsey of Queen's Park.

- Her husband's disappeared.
- He's in Belgium with the scullery maid.

Is it November?

Yes, Holmes. All right.

Lady Radford reports...

Her emerald bracelet
has disappeared.

Insurance swindle. Lord Radford
likes fast women and slow ponies.

I see you're the attending physician
at Blackwood's hanging.

Yes.

It was our last case together
and I wanted to see it through to the end.

A Mr. Lewis is seeking...

There's only one case
that intrigues me at present:

The curious case of Mrs. Hudson,
the absentee landlady.

I've been studying
her comings and goings.

They appear most sinister.

Tea, Mr. Holmes?

Is it poisoned, nanny?

There's enough of that in you already.

Don't touch.
Everything is in its proper place...

as per usual, nanny.

He's killed the dog. Again.

What have you done to Gladstone now?

I was simply testing a new anesthetic.

He doesn't mind.

Holmes, as your doctor...

- He'll be as right as a trivet in no time.
- As your friend...

you've been in this room for 2 weeks.
I insist, you have to get out.

There's nothing of interest for me
out there, on earth, at all.

- You're free this evening?
- Absolutely.

- Dinner? The Royale?
- Wonderful. My favorite.

Mary's coming.

- Not available.
- You're meeting her, Holmes.

Have you proposed yet?

- No, I haven't found the right ring.
- Then it's not official.

It's happening, whether you like it or not.

8:30, the Royale. Wear a jacket.

You wear a jacket.

A man? Outside my house?

Straighten your tie.

Holmes.

You're early.

Fashionably.

Miss Mary Morstan.

My goodness. What a pleasure.

I don't know why it's taken him so long
to introduce us properly.

Pleasure is mine.

It really is quite a thrill to meet you,
Mr. Holmes.

I've heard so much about you.

I have a pile of detective novels at home.

- Wilkie Collins, Poe.
- It's true.

It can seem a little far-fetched
though sometimes...

making grand assumptions
out of tiny details.

That's not quite right, is it?

In fact, the little details
are by far the most important.

- Take Watson.
- I intend to.

See his walking stick?
A rare African snakewood...

hiding a blade of high-tensile steel.

A few were awarded
to veterans of the Afghan war...

so I can assume
he's a decorated soldier.

Strong, brave,
born to be a man of action.

And neat, like all military men.

Now, I check his pockets.

A stub from a boxing match.
Now I can infer that he's a bit of a gambler.

I'd keep an eye on that dowry.

- Those days are behind me.
- Right behind you.

He's cost us the rent more than once.

Well, with all due respect, Mr. Holmes,
you know John very well.

What about a complete stranger?

- What can you tell about me?
- You?

- I don't think...
- I don't know that...

- Not at dinner.
- Some other time.

- I insist.
- You insist?

- You remember we discussed this.
- The lady insists.

- You're a governess.
- Well done.

Yes, well done. Shall we?

- Waiter?
- Your student...

is a boy of 8.

- Charlie's 7, actually.
- Charlie?

Then he's tall for his age.
He flicked ink at you today.

Is there ink on my face?

There's nothing wrong with your face.

There are 2 drops on your ear, in fact.

India blue's nearly impossible
to wash off.

A very impetuous act by the boy.

But you're too experienced
to react rashly...

which is why the lady for whom you work
lent you that.

Oriental pearls, diamonds, a flawless ruby.
Hardly the gems of a governess.

The jewels you are not wearing
tell us more.

- Holmes.
- You were engaged.

The ring is gone,
but the lighter skin suggests...

that you spent some time abroad
wearing it proudly...

until you were informed
of its true, modest worth.

You broke off the engagement...

and returned to England
for better prospects.

A doctor, perhaps.

Right on all counts, Mr. Holmes,
apart from one.

I didn't leave him.

He died.

Well done, old boy.

- Fight. Fight.
- Get him.

Get up and fight.

Fight.

- Finish it.
- Come on.

Get up and fight, come on.

Come on.

Get up.

Get up and fight.

That's it, big man, we're done.

You won, congratulations.

We ain't done yet.

This mustn't register
on an emotional level.

First, distract target.

Then block his blind jab.

Counter with cross to left cheek.

Discombobulate.

Dazed, he'll attempt wild haymaker.

Employ elbow block, and body shot.

Block feral left. Weaken right jaw.

Now fracture.

Break cracked ribs.

Traumatize solar plexus.

Dislocate jaw entirely.

Heel kick to diaphragm.

In summary, ears ringing, jaw fractured,
3 ribs cracked, 4 broken...

diaphragm hemorrhaging,
physical recovery, 6 weeks...

full psychological recovery,
6 months...

capacity to spit at back of head...

neutralized.

Where did that come from?

What the hell's going on here, Charlie?

Lord Blackwood's put him
under some kind of spell, sir.

It's like he's burning from the inside out.

You lot, shut up!

Charlie. Charlie!

Take this man to the infirmary, now.

What's this all about, then, Blackwood?

There's someone I want to see.

- Watson?
- Right.

Le's go.

What started merely as an experiment...

has brought me to the threshold
of a monumental discovery.

Now, if I play a chromatic scale...

there's no measurable response.

You do know what you're drinking
is meant for eye surgery?

But, now...

and this is remarkable...

if I change to atonal clusters...

voil�, they fly in counterclockwise,
synchronized concentric circles...

as though a regimented flock.

Watson, this is exceptional.

I, using musical theory,
have created order out of chaos.

How did you lure them in?

Excellent question.

Individually. I've been at it for 6 hours.

- And what happens if I do this?
- What?

- Right.
- Clean yourself up.

You are Blackwood's last request.

Look at those towering structures.

It's the first combination of bascule
and suspension bridge ever attempted.

Most innovative.

What an industrious empire.

I have your winnings from last night.

You weren't there,
so I made your customary bet.

Right. I'll keep it with your checkbook,
locked safely away in my drawer.

Did you know the opera house
is featuring Don Giovanni?

I could procure a couple of tickets if you
had any cultural inclinations this evening.

You have the grand gift of silence,
Watson.

It makes you quite invaluable
as a companion.

I knew she'd been engaged.

She had told me.

So that's no to the opera, then?

- That was my waistcoat.
- We agreed it's too small for you.

- I'd like it back.
- We agreed.

I want it back.

This way, Mr. Holmes.

Blackwood certainly seems to have got
the crowd into something of a fear frenzy.

Which I'm certain will disperse
once his feet have stopped twitching.

Care to come along?

No, old cock.
I've no business with him whilst he's alive.

Suit yourself, mother hen.

It seems you have lots of rooms to let.

We had to move the prisoners, sir.
Otherwise we were gonna have a riot.

He has a peculiar effect on the inmates.

As though...

he can get inside their heads.

I can find my own way
if you have other duties to perform.

Much obliged, sir. Thank you, sir.

If any man have an ear, let him hear.

I stood upon the sand of the sea
and saw a beast rise up...

having 7 heads and 10 horns.

Upon his heads were
the name of blasphemy.

They worshiped the dragon,
which gave power.

They worshiped, saying,
"Who is like unto the beast?"

The beast which I saw
was like a leopard.

His feet were of a bear,
his mouth was of a lion...

and the dragon gave him his power
and his seat and great authority.

I love what you've done with the place.

So glad you could accept my invitation.

I just have a small point of concern.

- How can I help?
- I'd followed the murders with interest.

While my heart went out
to the families of the victims...

I couldn't but notice a criminal mastery
in the stroke of your brush.

- You're too kind.
- However, by comparison...

your work in the crypt
was more akin to a finger painting.

So now you're curious
as to whether there's a larger game afoot.

Either that or...

shortly my friend will pronounce you dead
and I thought I might keep him company.

Your mistake is to imagine that
anything earthly's led to this moment.

Your error of judgment is to assume
that I'm holding the brush at all.

- I'm merely the channel.
- My only wish is that I caught you sooner.

You see,
5 lives might have been spared.

Those lives were a necessity.

Sacrifice.

5 meaningless creatures
called to serve a greater purpose.

I wonder if they'd let Watson and me
dissect your brain.

After you're hanged, of course.

I'd wager there's some deformity
tha'd be scientifically significant.

Then you, too,
could serve a greater purpose.

Mr. Holmes, you must widen your gaze.

I'm concerned you underestimate
the gravity of coming events.

You and I are bound together
on a journey...

that will twist the very fabric of nature.

But beneath your mask of logic,
I sense a fragility.

That worries me.

Steel your mind, Holmes.

I need you.

You've come a long way down
from the House of Lords.

- And I will rise again.
- Bon voyage.

Pay attention.

3 more will die, and there is
nothing you can do to save them.

You must accept
that this is beyond your control...

or, by the time you realize you
made all of this possible...

i'll be the last sane thought
in your head.

What did he want?

Not sure.

But I don't think you're needed, Father.
Not for this one.

Lord Henry Blackwood...

you are sentenced to death
for the practice of black magic...

the unholy murder of
5 innocent young women...

and the attempted murder of a 6th.

Do you have any final words?

Death...

is only the beginning.

Forever and ever. Amen.

That is the end of Lord Blackwood.

London's so bleak this time of year.

Not that I'm pining for New Jersey.

I much prefer to travel in the winter.

Here, I brought you these,
all the way from Syria.

I found these exquisite dates in Jordan...

and your favorite...

olives from the Cyclades.

Thought we might have a little tea party.

And while I was setting the table,
I found this:

A file with my name on it.

"Theft of Vel�zquez portrait
from king of Spain."

"Missing naval documents lead
to resignation of Bulgarian prime minister."

"Scandalous affair ends engagement of...

Hapsburg prince
to Romanov princess."

I was simply studying your methods...

should the authorities
ask me to hunt you down.

But I don't see my name
in any of these articles.

But your signature was clear.

Is that the maharajah's
missing diamond?

Or just another souvenir?

Let's not dwell on the past.

Shall we?

By the looks of things,
you're between jobs.

And you between husbands.
How much did you get for the ring?

He was boring and jealous,
and he snored.

I'm Irene Adler again.

Thank you.

I need your help.

I need you to find someone.

Why are you always so suspicious?

Shall I answer chronologically
or alphabetically?

Careful not to cut yourself
on this lethal envelope.

I think you'll find all the information
you need inside.

Who are you working for?

So I'll have to find out the hard way?

Keep your money.
I didn't say I'll take the case.

Well, consider it a wager that you will.

Do you remember The Grand?

They gave me our old room.

Hold the door.

Thanks, doctor.

Ma'am.

- He'll do it.
- Well done, Miss Adler.

That's precisely why I hired you.

I wager he'll have our man
within the next 24 hours.

He'd better.

Reordan is the key
to what Blackwood was doing.

He's essential to my plan.

Get off out of it.

What you doing?
Can't you see where you're going?

- You scalp diver.
- Get off out of it.

A little rifle range
would go a long way, sir...

rubbing the calluses
off these German bands.

God save the queen.

God save the queen, sir.

Get off out of it.

Look at you.

Why is the only woman
you've cared about a criminal?

Are you a masochist?

- Allow me to explain.
- Allow me.

She's the only adversary
who ever outsmarted you. Twice.

Made a proper idiot out of you.

- Right, you've had your fun.
- What's she after, anyway?

- It's time to press on.
- What could she possibly need?

It doesn't matter.

An alibi? A beard? A human canoe.

She could sit on your back
and paddle you up the Thames.

That's of no consequence to you, is it?

We've done our last case together.

I've already read it.

Missing person:

Luke Reordan, 4 foot 10,
red hair, no front teeth.

Case solved.

You're obviously not her type.
She likes ginger dwarves.

- Midget.
- So you agree?

No, I don't agree.

It's more than technicality, you see.

You're misrepresenting the dimensions
of foreshortened peoples.

- I've said too much. I've upset you.
- No, I am simply stating that one has...

What were you doing?

- Will you allow me to explain?
- I wish you would.

- Holmes. What are you doing?
- Nothing.

- Are you wearing a false...?
- False nose? No.

- Tell me that that wasn't...
- That wasn't.

Holmes. Where are you going?

Watson.

Watson.

Got some flowers for you, sweetheart.
Cut you a deal because you're so pretty.

My lucky day.

Hello, gorgeous.
You got something for me?

Don't move.

Now, what have we got here?

It's...

Thank you.

That's the Irene I know.

Good boy.

This man intrigues me, Watson.
He's got Adler on edge.

- Which is no mean feat.
- She's intimidated.

She's scared of him.

Yet she works for him.

- Right.
- It's nothing to do with me...

but I advise you leave the case alone.

Well, I may not have a choice.

After all, I may be paying the rent
on my own soon, thanks to you.

- Get that out of my face.
- It's not. It's in my hand.

Get what's in your hand out of my face.

- Mr. Holmes?
- Clarkie.

Sir, Inspector Lestrade asks
that you come with me at once.

What's he done now,
lost his way to Scotland Yard?

Watson, grab a compass.
"You" means "us."

No, "you" means you.

It's Lord Blackwood, sir. He...

Well...

it appears he's come back
from the grave, sir.

- Most engaging.
- Very clever.

I pronounced the man dead myself.

What are the facts?

Groundskeeper saw him walking
through the graveyard this morning.

I'll leave this in your capable hands.

- I have an appointment with Mary.
- It's not my reputation that's at stake here.

Don't try that.

- The newspapers got wind of it?
- That's what we're trying to avoid.

Certainly.

What's the major concern?

Panic. Sheer bloody panic, sir.

- Indeed.
- You're not taking this seriously, are you?

Yes, as you should.

It's a matter of professional integrity.

No girl wants to marry a doctor
who can't tell if a man's dead or not.

Who do you think won the match,
Clarkie?

- Sir?
- The rugby match.

Your boys have done a magnificent job
obliterating any potential evidence.

Yes. But at least they never miss
an opportunity to miss an opportunity.

You took your time, Holmes.

"And on the 3rd day"...

These slabs are half a ton each
if they're a pound...

and they're smashed open
from the inside.

Lestrade, what of the coffin?

- We are in the process of bringing it up.
- I see.

Right. At what stage of the process?
Contemplative?

Anyhow, where's our witness?

He's over there.

And apparently, he is cata...

Cat...

Catatonic, sir.

- He's not feeling very well.
- Yes.

If you lot don't stop behaving like quivering
milkmaids, you're on double-time.

Now, you get down there
and you bring that coffin up now.

Good day, sir.

Hello.

It's all right.

I'm a doctor.

The man's in shock.
He may need a few moments.

The witness stated that he saw
Lord Blackwood rise from the grave.

Well?

- Well?
- You pronounced him dead.

He had no pulse.

Ready.

Down.

Good Lord.

That's not Blackwood.

Well, now we have a firm grasp
of the obvious.

Time of death?

Diptera is...

approximately...

2/3 of an inch
which would put the time of death...

at between 10 and 12 hours ago.

May I borrow your pen?

- Adler's dwarf.
- Midget.

I know what I saw.

It was Blackwood.

As clear as I see you.

And when the dead walk...

the living will fill these coffins.

Well...

Right. Put the lid
on and clean this lot up.

You really believe he was resurrected?

The question is not if, but how.

- The game's afoot.
- Follow your spirit...

And upon this charge, cry:

"God for Harry, England and St. George."

There you are.

Why that certain chips stall,
I don't understand.

There's a particular beer in their batter.
A northern stout, to be exact.

You know, Holmes, I've seen
things in war I don't understand.

I once met a man
who predicted his own death...

right down to the number
and the placement...

of the bullets that killed him.

You have to admit, Holmes...

that a supernatural explanation
to this case...

is theoretically possible.

Well, agreed, but it's a huge mistake
to theorize before one has data.

Inevitably one begins to twist facts
to suit theories...

instead of theories to suit facts.

That said, I believe Adler's midget
is the key to this.

Right. Scratches around the keyhole
where the watch was wound.

- What does that tell you?
- The man was likely a drunk.

Every time he wound the watch
his hand would slip, hence the scratches.

Very good, Watson.

You've developed considerable
deductive powers of your own.

Le's see now, there are several
sets of initials scored...

- Pawnbrokers' marks.
- Excellent.

Most recent of which are "M. H."
M. H. M. H. Is for?

- Maddison and Haig.
- Maddison and Haig.

They should be able to
give us an address.

What a coincidence.

There's one thing you've
failed to deduce from the watch.

Really? I think not.

The time.
I have to get back, Holmes.

Taking tea with the in-laws.

- Reckon your future, sir?
- Absolutely not.

- No, thank you.
- You need to hear what I have to tell.

We have no need of your lucky heather,
gypsy woman.

Even if it's to do with Mary?

I see 2 men. Brothers.

Not in blood, but in bond.

What of Mary?

M for Mary, for marriage.
You will be married.

Go on.

I see patterned tablecloths...

and China figurines...

and lace doilies.

Doilies.

Lace doilies? Holmes.

Does your depravity know no bounds?

- No.
- She turns to fat...

and she has a beard and...

- What of the warts?
- She's covered in warts.

- Enough.
- Are they extensive?

Please, enough.

It's the most apt prediction
Flora has made in years.

And precisely the reason
you can't find a suitable ring.

Do you have my money?

You are terrified of a life
without the thrill of the macabre.

- Do you have my cut from the fight?
- Admit it.

- Give me my money! Holmes.
- Admit it!

I see.

Thank you.

Well, you've got your ring and I've got
my address for the ginger midget.

- Should be just there.
- I think she'll really like this.

And I have some change in my pocket.

- Shall I look after it for you?
- No, no.

- Don't give it away here.
- No.

I have to go see Mary.

Give her my best.

And her family, as well.

It does make a considerable
difference to me...

having someone with me
on whom I can thoroughly rely.

Well, you can rely on me
for exactly 10 minutes.

He clearly felt something
was coming to get him.

Something did.

Irene Adler was here.

Either that or the ginger midget
wore the same Parisian perfume.

Putrefaction.

Ammonium sulfate, among other aromas.

Phosphorous.

Formaldehyde.

It looks like...

he was attempting to combine...

some kind of sorcery
and scientific formula.

More importantly...

le's see what he was
trying to dispose of.

- Potassium, magnesium.
- Sultaphytic acid.

I'll suck the iron right out of the ink
as long as it's not too burnt.

Peculiar.

Hydrated rhododendron.

Holmes.

Look at the crest.

Reordan was working with Blackwood.

Of course he was.

The question is, to what end.

Whatever he was working on,
he clearly succeeded.

How so?

Otherwise, he'd still be alive.

Which is why Miss Adler
is so desperate to find him.

Yes.

There is one odor
I can't quite put my finger on.

Is it candy floss? Molasses?

Maple syrup?

Barley sugar.

Toffee apple.

Let me guess.

Judging by your arsonist tool kit...

you're here to burn down the building
and extinguish all evidence therein.

Just one minute, boys.

Dredger.

Meat...

or potatoes?

My 10 minutes are up.

You all right?

Holmes...

what is that?

Holmes!

Watson...

what have you done?

I haven't slept all night.

Not a wink.

Why I ever believed...

that I would get to have tea
with Mary's parents is beyond me...

- having been talked into going with you.
- We were set upon. It was self-defense.

I've been reviewing my notes
on our exploits over the last 7 months.

Would you like to know my conclusion?

- I am psychologically disturbed.
- How so?

Why else would I continually be
led into situations...

where you deliberately withhold
your plans from me? Why else?

You've never complained
about my methods before.

- I'm not complaining.
- What do you call this?

How am I complaining? I never complain.

Do I complain about you practicing
the violin in the morning...

or your mess, your lack of hygiene,
or the fact that you steal my clothes?

We have a barter system.

Do I complain
about you setting fire to my rooms?

- Our rooms.
- The rooms.

When do I complain
that you experiment on my dog?

- Our dog.
- On the dog.

Gladstone is our dog.

Where I do take issue is your campaign
to sabotage my relationship with Mary.

I understand.

- Do you?
- I do.

- I don't think you do.
- You're overtired.

- Yes.
- You're feeling sensitive.

I'm not sensitive.

What you need is a rest.

My brother, Mycroft,
has a small estate near Chichester.

Beautiful grounds. There's a folly.
We can throw a lamb on the spit.

We? Holmes, if I were to go to the country,
it would be with my future wife.

- Well, certainly, if we must...
- No, not you. Mary and I.

- You are not...
- What, invited?

Why would I not be invited
to my brother's country home?

Now you're not making any sense.

You're not human.

John Watson?

Yes.

Your bail's been posted.

Mary.

Just Watson.

I hope you get bail by breakfast,
because the boys are getting hungry.

Step lively.

Back off. Back off.

To which the barman says,
"May I push in your stool?"

Right, you, you're out.

Until next time, Big Joe.

Always a pleasure, Mr. Holmes.

Thank heaven you're here.
I'd almost run out of jokes.

In another life,
you'd have made an excellent criminal.

And you, sir, an excellent policeman.
Tomski, thank you.

Now, please tell me you have answers.

All in good time, Lestrade.

"All in good time"? Is this some parlor game
where we guess what you're thinking?

I've got a public in frenzy out there.
If you don't fill me in...

I'll have you in there playing Victoria
and Albert quicker than a bookie's runner.

Now, clean up
and make yourself presentable.

For whom?

Friends in high places.
They're the ones who bailed you out.

I'm terribly sorry
to inconvenience you, sir...

but I'm gonna have to put this on you.

Mr. Holmes,
apologies for summoning you like this.

I'm sure it's quite a mystery
as to where you are and who I am.

As to where I am...

I was, admittedly, lost for a moment
between Charing Cross and Holborn.

But I was saved by the bread shop
on Saffron Hill...

the only baker to use a certain
French glaze on their loaves...

a Brittany sage.

The carriage forked left, then right,
a telltale bump over the Fleet Conduit.

And as to who you are, that took every
ounce of my not inconsiderable experience.

The letters on your desk are addressed
to Sir Thomas Rotheram.

Lord Chief Justice,
tha'd be your official title.

Who you really are is, of course,
another matter entirely.

Judging by the sacred ox on your ring...

you're the head of
the Temple of the Four Orders...

in whose headquarters we now sit...

on the northwest corner
of St. James's Square, I think.

As to the mystery, the only mystery is
why you bothered to blindfold me at all.

Yes, well, standard procedure,
I suppose.

I daresay we have the right man,
gentlemen.

Sherlock Holmes,
Ambassador Standish from America...

and Lord Coward, the home secretary.

I suppose you already have some notion
as to the practices of our order.

Yes.

They're practically interesting.

Be as skeptical as you like.

But our secret systems have steered
the world towards good for centuries.

The danger is they can also be used
for more nefarious purposes.

What some call the dark arts,
or practical magic.

We know you don't believe
in magic, Mr. Holmes.

We don't expect you to share our faith...

merely our fears.

Fear is the more infectious condition.

In this instance...

fear of your own child.

Blackwood is your son.

You have the same irises,
a rare dark green...

with diamond-shaped hazel flecks...

together with identical outer ears, which
are only passed down through bloodline...

which makes you either brothers...

or, in this case, more likely,
father and son.

Very few people
are privy to that information...

and we want to keep it that way.

He was conceived
during one of our rituals.

His mother wasn't my wife...

but she shared our beliefs.

She was a powerful practitioner...

though not enough
to survive giving birth to him.

Death followed him wherever he went.

Those 5 girls were not the first
to be butchered.

He killed many more,
using them to enhance his powers.

No one could prove anything,
of course, but we all knew.

The boy was a curse.

We've done our best to stop him,
but it's not enough.

His power grows daily.

His resurrection is evidence of that.

But what he does next
will be more dangerous.

His secret lies in the book of spells.
This is the source of his power.

He's gonna raise a force
that will alter the course of world.

We want you to find him
and stop him before he does.

We'll give you any assistance
that we can.

As home secretary, I have considerable
influence over the police.

Yes.

So...

name your price.

The benefit of being
a consulting detective...

is that I can pick and choose
my clients.

So consider it done, I'll stop him.

But not for you.

And certainly not for a price.

- I do have a parting query, Sir Thomas.
- What is that?

If the rest of his family's dead,
how long do you expect to survive?

Food for thought.

Well, perhaps you'll have better luck
opening that.

Margaux '58. A comet vintage.

How fascinating that an astronomical event
can affect the quality...

How is it going with our case
you refuse to take?

Of the wine.

I've hit a dead end, literally.

I found your man.

He's buried in Blackwood's tomb.

If you still need him.

Dear.

Hope my client
doesn't come looking for a refund.

He's a professor, isn't he?

Couldn't see his face,
but I spotted chalk on his lapel.

I've never known a professor to carry a gun,
and on such a clever contraption.

Eye patch, nice touch.

So case closed...

which makes this a social visit.

No, it's a "you're in over your head,
Irene" visit.

Whoever killed Reordan
was covering their tracks...

which makes you the next loose end
to be snipped.

Let it breathe.

I've never been in over my head.

Leave now. Disappear.
You're good at that.

Or stay and volunteer
for protective custody.

If I'm in danger, so are you.

Come with me.

What if we trusted each other?

You're not listening.

I'm taking you to either the railway station
or the police station.

So...

- Which is it to be?
- Careful.

You decide.

- Which will it be?
- What...?

I told you to let it breathe.

Can you taste the comet?

Why couldn't you just
come away with me?

Never.

Madam, I need you to remain calm
and trust me, I'm a professional.

But beneath this pillow
lies the key to my release.

- She misinterpreted my intention entirely.
- Naturally, sir.

That's why I find this modern
religious fervor so troubling.

- No latitude for misunderstanding.
- Faith runs right over reason, sir.

Indeed. And chambermaids
were once such a liberal breed.

My wife's a chambermaid, sir.

Anyhow, a good thing she was offended,
or we may never have found you.

The inspector's been over to Baker Street
himself this morning, sir.

Just joking about the wife, sir.

We've checked everything, sir.

No sign of a break-in
and the butler didn't hear a thing.

So body in the bathtub...

his eyes were wide open,
and the only thing missing was...

his ring, sir.

Why did you drain the water?

- Out of common decency.
- Crime is common, logic is rare.

The decent thing to do is to catch the killer,
not provide comfort for the corpse.

What is that?

- Jasmine bath salts, sir.
- Superb.

Probably comes from a larger container.
I'll either be in the pantry...

high up where it's warm and dry,
or in a linen cupboard with a vent.

Constable, you could do worse...

than to check the ground under
the rear windows for any footprints.

Data, data, data.
I cannot make bricks without clay.

Mr. Holmes?

Was it in the cupboard or the pantry?

It was in the pantry, sir.

I don't know what to make of this.

Excellent work.

Adieu.

What's the meaning of this, Coward?
Why have you called this meeting?

Sir Thomas is dead.

I nominate Lord Blackwood
as head of the order.

Have you lost your mind?

You know damn well
what he's capable of.

Of course he does.

That's why we're here.

That's why we're all here.

My powers and my assets
were given to me for one purpose.

A magnificent but simple purpose.

To create a new future.

A future ruled...

by us.

Tomorrow at noon, we take the first step
towards a new chapter in our history.

Magic will lead the way.

Once the people of England
see our newfound power...

they'll bow down in fear.

Across the Atlantic
lies a colony that was once ours.

It will be again.

The Civil War has made them weak.

Their government is as corrupt
and as ineffective as ours...

so we'll take it back.

We will remake the world...

create the future.

These men are with me, Standish...

but...

are you?

No, sir. I am not.

These powers that you're playing with...

no man can control.

Well, gentlemen...

someone has to stop him,
even if you won't.

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Save me!

Gentlemen...

don't be afraid.

As you can see...

we are protected.

Come, drink your allegiance here.

You control the police, now use them.

Didn't know you were here.

Since this room is no longer yours,
do you mind if I utilize it?

Be my guest.

- In here, chaps.
- Where would you like me...

- to put him, sir?
- Anywhere is fine.

- Who is he?
- The man who tried to kill you at Reordan's.

His neck didn't survive the impact
of Dredger landing on him.

Yes.

Thanks for that, by the way.

There is consolation in the knowledge that
he could be of service to his fellow man.

Elbows and arms stained with blood,
but it's older than his own injuries.

None of it human.

He's not a butcher, let me see.

Yellow flame, green bursts.

An industrial worker.

Coal.

River silt.

The slag on his trousers
should put him squarely in...

- Nine Elms.
- Sorry, what?

The area you're looking for is Nine Elms.

I wondered.

Do you remember where I put
the Lords Register of members' interests?

It's on the stepladder.

Well, Blackwood's had his hand in just about
everything that's corrosive to the spirit.

Woolwich Arsenal.
Limehouse Chemical Works.

I'll probably be a factory by the river.

What's that?

Never mind.

You don't know where
my rugby ball went, do you?

No, not a clue.

Queenshithe Slaughterhouse.

Nine Elms.

A factory by the river.

Well done. That should lead us
to Blackwood, dead or alive.

Not us.

You.

Yes.

Just a figure of speech, old boy.

He's left it there on purpose.

More coal, doctor.

That's a good one. He's such a tit.

God. Yeah.

Glad to see you two
are working hard.

And I thought we were
trying to be discreet.

You would not last one day in the navy.

Are you sure there isn't an alternative
means of water transportation than that?

I guarantee you nobody knows
London's waterways better.

- Tanner's practically a fish himself.
- He certainly drinks like one.

You found a sense of humor, doctor.

If only just a sense.

I better take over, there.
Bit tricky down here.

Come on, come on.

- Look familiar?
- Yep.

All that's missing is a ginger midget.

They cleared something away from here
not minutes ago.

Like what?

Not sure. Something mechanical.

Holmes.

Look at this.

- 1:18.
- Chapter and verse.

Revelations 1:18.
"I am he that liveth, and was dead."

"And behold, I'm alive for evermore."

I warned you, Holmes, to accept
that this was beyond your control...

beyond what your rational mind
could comprehend.

- What a busy afterlife you're having.
- I want you to bear witness.

Tomorrow, at midday,
the world as you know it will end.

Show me your face,
i'll be the end of your world.

Save your bullets, Watson.

A gift for you.

What was that about saving bullets?

She followed you here, Holmes.

You led your lamb to slaughter.

Holmes.

This game was designed to hurt.

Watson!

It's warm in here, Watson.

In over your head yet, darling?

- Hold on there.
- I can't.

Let me take your weight.

Give us a leg up, old boy.

These German locks
always give me trouble.

It's a band saw.

No matter, we have plenty of time.

Holmes.

- It's not working.
- Keep calm.

Holmes, hurry up.

Don't get excited. Turn off that valve.

And we'll bounce in 3, 2...

1.

Thank you.

I'm gonna get after Blackwood.

Thank you.

We should help the doctor.

Holmes!

Mr. Holmes.

Sir.

Mr. Holmes.

Mr. Holmes, we have an order
for your arrest, sir.

Sir!

Lord Coward has issued a warrant
for your arrest, sir.

Now, Watson's alive.

Just get out of here, sir. Go, sir, go.

Will the train be departing on time?

The train's been delayed, madam.

Shouldn't be long now, though.

The train will depart when I tell it to.

And you will leave my employment
when I allow you to.

I fulfilled my contract.

I found Reordan.

He's in Scotland Yard's mortuary.

So that's me, finished.

Your job was to manipulate
Holmes' feelings for you...

not succumb to them.

You have fulfilled nothing.

I want what Reordan was making
for Blackwood.

Finish the job or the next dead body...

will be Sherlock Holmes.

The surgeon should be along shortly.

He should be able to rest now.

Excuse me.

Is that the best you can do?

Yes, for now.

I must attend to my other patients.

Doctor.

Doctor.

Please.

I know that you care for him
as much as I do.

This is not your responsibility,
it was his choice.

He'd say that it was worth the wounds.

Solve this.

Whatever it takes.

This is beyond your control.

Sheer bloody panic, sir. Panic.

- It's Lord Blackwood, sir.
- I've never been in over my head.

It's nothing to do with me,
but I advise you leave the case alone.

- Solve this.
- Are you, Holmes?

Accept that this was beyond your control.

- Tomorrow, at midday, the world will end.
- I've got a public in frenzy.

Holmes!

Widen your gaze.

You must widen your gaze.
Widen your gaze.

You and I are bound together on a journey
that will twist the very fabric of nature.

Steel your mind, Holmes.
Widen your gaze.

He's gonna raise a force
that will alter the world.

- His power grows daily.
- This is the source of his power.

I need you.

His secret lies in the book of spells.

3 more will die...

and there is nothing you can do
to save them.

We know you don't believe in magic.

Reordan was working with Blackwood.

Is that better?

He clearly felt something
was coming to get him.

His eyes were wide open
and the only thing missing was his ring.

Give up, Holmes.

This is a riddle you cannot solve.

Good morning.

Now, you need to work.

Familiar artwork.

You look gorgeous.

Somehow I knew you wouldn't leave.

You made the front page.

Only a name and no picture.

So it looks like you'll be needing to
work outside the law now...

and that's my area of expertise.

I feel safer already.

You seem to be making a rapid recovery.

Yes.

Took the shrapnel out myself.

Mary said I had a lousy doctor.

Well, I'm...

I'm just so...

very glad that you're...

well...

with us.

Now that you're sitting comfortably,
I shall begin.

My initial approach was far too narrow.

When Blackwood invited me
to Pentonville Prison...

he suggested I widen my gaze
and, at minimum, I have done just that.

In fact, I may well have reconciled
thousands of years of theological disparity.

But that's for another time.

Blackwood's method is based on
a ritualistic mystical system...

that's been employed by the
Temple of the Four Orders for centuries.

To fully understand the system,
to get inside it...

I reenacted the ceremony
we interrupted at the crypt...

with a few enhancements of my own.

My journey took me somewhat further down
the rabbit hole than I had intended...

and though I dirtied my fluffy white tail,
I have emerged enlightened.

The fraternity who silently control
the empire...

share the belief with the kings,
pharaohs and emperors of old...

that the sphinx was a door
to another dimension...

a gateway to immeasurable power.

It's made up of 4 parts:
The foot of a lion, the tail of an ox...

the wings of an eagle,
and the head of a man.

In Sir Thomas's secret chamber,
I found the bone of an ox...

the tooth of a lion, the feather of an eagle
and hair of a man.

Map.

The points of the star represent
the 5 murdered girls...

but the cross
is what we're now interested in.

It's a widely held belief...

that within the architecture
of the great cities...

are coded references to this system.

Since he rose from the grave,
Blackwood has killed 3 men...

each committed at a location
that has a connection with the temple...

therefore the system.

Reordan, the ginger midget,
represents man.

We found his body here.

Sir Thomas, master of the temple,
wore the ox ring.

He died here.

Standish, ambassador to America...

where the eagle has been
the national emblem for over 100 years.

The headquarters of the Temple
of the Four Orders where he died...

is here.

Correspondingly, the map will tell us
the location of Blackwood's final act.

So we have man, the ox, eagle.

Only the lion remaining.

Right here.

Parliament.

Right.

You 4 stay here and the rest
of you come with me.

- Get out of the way, you lowlifes!
- Right this way.

Ladies first.

Now.

Follow these instructions.

- Aren't you...?
- Go.

Hello, hello, hello.

Did the devil turn up?

Well...

never mind.

You got the next best thing.

Beg your pardon, my Lord.
I know that it's unorthodox...

but Mr. Holmes here...

he's been making some
serious accusations about you...

and the order.

I see.

Well, at least that solves the great mystery
as to how you became inspector.

Excuse me, my Lord...

but I've been wanting to do that
for a long time.

Well, inspector, I have 5 minutes
before my next engagement...

so why don't you regale me
with your stories of conspiracy?

Thank you, Lestrade.

My Lord.

I'm curious, Coward. Did you assist
Blackwood in all the murders...

or just the one I prevented?

Very distinctive,
those handmade shoes of yours.

But the price of quality
is often the unique imprint they leave.

Nonetheless, I confess to being
completely outmatched.

I could deduce very little
from my investigation.

Fortunately,
there's nothing more stimulating...

than a case where everything
goes against you.

How many members of Parliament
do you intend to murder at noon today?

Man, ox, eagle, lion.

The lion is Parliament, isn't it?

Very clever.

But it's not murder, Mr. Holmes.

It's mercy.

We are giving the weak masses
a strong shepherd.

Don't you see that it's for their own?

No, but I don't care much what you think.

I simply wanted to know the location
of Blackwood's ceremony...

and you've given it to me.

I've told you nothing.

But your clothes say infinitely
more than you could ever hope.

The mud on your boots
from where you've been walking.

A touch of red brick dust on your knee
from where you've been kneeling.

A small bandage on your thumb
from where you've been vowing.

A faint aroma of excrement
from where you've been standing.

You and Blackwood laid the final touches
to your ceremony...

in the sewers beneath Parliament
less than an hour ago.

Both houses meet today.

The whole government will be present.

It's a shame you made an enemy
out of Blackwood, Holmes.

You would have made a valuable ally.

How terrible is wisdom...

when it brings no profit to the wise.

We take power at noon.

There isn't any time to waste then,
is there?

I told you he'd be coming
out the top window.

There isn't any way
he'd be coming over that terrace.

Technically, that isn't the top window,
is it, sailor boy?

- What is it?
- Well, it's the middle window.

Anyway.

You'll be pleased to know
Lestrade performed perfectly.

In fact, I think he enjoyed it.

I hope you know what you're doing.

Here's the key.

- You got all you needed from Coward?
- Yes, I smoked him out with relative ease.

- Tanner?
- Sir?

If you would, captain...

take us under the bridge,
port side, 100 yards.

Beyond that you'll find the tunnel
that leads us to the sewers.

Right away, sir.

The end is nigh.

Blackwood's come back from hell
and laid a curse upon this land.

He walks in every shadow
and every puff of smoke.

Behold, he cometh with clouds...

and every eye shall see him...

and every soul shall wail
because of him.

You cannot stop him!
No one can!

Behold, Blackwood's magic revealed.

- What does it do?
- It's a chemical weapon.

The first of its kind.

You deduced that how?

From my pocket.

I snipped this off a rather recumbent rat
at the slaughterhouse.

Note the blue discoloration,
the faint smell of bitter almonds.

- Telltale traces of cyanide.
- Cyanide.

Now we know what the
ginger midget was working on.

I'll revolutionize warfare.

Yes, killing a lot of people.

Now, it's 7 minutes to noon.
What are we gonna do?

Right. How many men
did you count on the...?

She loves an entrance, your muse.

Woman!

Shoot him. Now, please.

My lords.

My lords.

My lords.

The time has come...

for only those who believe to remain.

Behold...

Lord Blackwood.

You seem surprised.

I have returned from beyond the grave
to fulfill England's destiny...

and extend the boundaries
of this great empire.

Listen to the rabble outside.

Listen...

to the fear.

I will use that as a weapon...

to control them...

and then the world.

I've never seen anything like it.
Look at this.

Specifically designed
to prevent us from disarming it.

These appear to be designed
to receive a signal of some sort.

Electromagnetic waves?

When triggered, the electrodes...

will send a charge
converting the chemical into gas.

The gas will travel up that shaft
and filter through the ventilation system...

that leads directly to Parliament.
Within seconds...

the most powerful men in the world
will be choking on death.

Blackwood must have some transmitter
that he can activate remotely.

3 minutes, 10 seconds.

I will create an empire
that will endure for millennia...

indestructible...

and eternal.

Move it. Move it.

We don't actually have to
disarm the device...

we just have to remove the cylinders.

Yes, except that they're welded in.

What we need is a controlled explosion.

We'll need a container to direct the blast.
My clay pipe should service that ambition.

I rather wish you hadn't done that,
Irene.

On the 12th chime,
I will summon the dark powers.

All those of you who are with me
shall be protected.

All others...

will perish.

I need your pipe.

Nut him!

- Right.
- What?

- Coat.
- Got it.

The new order...

begins now.

Woman.

What are you waiting for?

That.

Apprehend Lord Coward.

- Can you manage?
- Course I can.

Relax...

I'm a doctor.

Did you take a wrong turning
somewhere?

We're safe now.

Interesting assessment.

Run off.

I won't be chasing you anymore.

Fare thee well.

I don't want to run anymore.

- I'll tell you everything.
- I wish you would.

No!

There was never any magic.

Only conjuring tricks.

The simplest involved
paying people off...

like the guard who pretended
to be possessed outside your cell.

Your reputation
and the inmates' fear did the rest.

Others required
more elaborate preparations...

like the sandstone slab
that covered your tomb.

You had it broken before your burial,
then put back together using an adhesive.

An ancient Egyptian recipe, I believe...

a mixture of egg and honey...

designed to be washed away
by the rain.

Holmes!

Arranging for your father
to drown in his own bathtub...

required more modern science.

Very clever of Reordan
to find a paralytic...

that was activated by the combination
of copper and water...

and was therefore undetectable
once the bath water was drained.

That migh've been a challenge for me...

had he not also tested it
on some unfortunate amphibians.

The death of Standish
was a real mystery...

until you used the same compound
to blow up the wharf.

An odorless, tasteless flammable liquid...

yet it burned
with an unusual pinkish hue.

Did Standish mistake it for rain
as he entered the temple?

All it took was a spark.

A simple rigged bullet in his gun.

Ingenious.

Like all great performers, you saved
your picce de r�sistance for the end:

A chemical weapon distilled from cyanide
and refined in the bellies of swine.

Had it worked...

your followers in Parliament
would have watched unharmed...

as their colleagues
were dying around them.

They didn't know
you'd given them the antidote.

Instead,
they would've believed it was magic...

and that you'd harnessed
the ultimate power.

And the world would've followed,
fear being the most powerful weapon of all.

You'd better hope
that it's nothing more than superstition...

as you performed
all the rituals perfectly.

The devil is due a soul, I'd say.

For God's sake, Holmes, cut me loose.

First, the world will see you
for what you are. A fraud.

Then you'll be hanged.

Properly, this time.

It's a long journey from here to the rope.

I've never woken up in handcuffs before.

I have.

Naked.

Storm's coming.

Well, we've still got a moment.

Moriarty.

What?

That's his name.

And he is a professor.

Everyone has a weak spot...

and he found mine.

Where was it, precisely?

Please don't underestimate him.

He's just as brilliant as you are...

and infinitely more devious.

We'll see about that.

Subtitles: Arigon

You'll miss me, Sherlock.

Sadly...

yes.

Just keep it under your hat.

Afternoon, sir.
I put the notebooks in this one, sir.

- Thank you.
- What's in these, John?

Scribbles.

- Scribbles?
- Notes.

They're your adventures.
I'd like to read them.

Come on, what's wrong?

Do you think he's come to terms
with you leaving?

Mary, look at the ring he's given us.

Now, 5 minutes here
and we'll go home.

Our home.

Get up those stairs.

Don't worry, dear.

Suicide is not in his repertoire.

He's far too fond of himself for that.

Holmes.

Good afternoon.

I was trying to deduce the manner
in which Blackwood survived his execution.

Clearing your good name, as it were.

But it had a surprisingly
soporific effect...

and I was carried off in the arms
of Morpheus like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

Good afternoon, dear.

Get on with it, Holmes.

Cleverly concealed in the hangman's knot
was a hook.

Dear, my legs have fallen asleep.
I should come down.

John, shouldn't we help him down?

No, no, no,
I hate to cut him off midstream.

Carry on.

Well, the executioner
attached it to a harness...

allowing the weight to be
distributed around the waist...

and the neck to remain intact.

My Lord, I can't feel my cheeks.
Might we continue this at ground level?

How did you manage it, Holmes?

I managed it with braces,
belts and a coat hook.

Please, my tongue is going,
I'll be of no use to you at all.

- Worse things could happen.
- John.

Yet none of this explains
Blackwood's lack of pulse.

Right.

Now, the medical mystery.
We must restore your reputation, Watson.

There is a toxin refined from the nectar
of the rhododendron ponticum.

It's infamous in the region of Turkey
bordering the Black Sea...

for its ability to induce
an apparently mortal paralysis.

Enough to mislead a medical mind
even as well-trained as your own.

- It's known as...
- What's wrong with Gladstone?

Mad honey disease.

He's demonstrating the very
effect I've just described.

He doesn't mind.

Mary, don't worry, he's seen far worse.

Mr. Holmes?

Doctor. Miss Mary.

Sir, Inspector Lestrade asks that
you come with me right away.

- What is it is this time, Clarkie?
- It's one of our sergeants, sir.

He went missing
the day you stopped Lord Blackwood.

I'm afraid sewage workers
found his body just this morning, sir.

We believe the sergeant
was our first man on the scene.

Can I help you, officer?

Shot in the head.

Was it a small caliber bullet?

Yes.

Were there powder burns
on his eyebrows?

Indeed, sir.

Point blank range?

Moriarty.

Professor Moriarty.

There's a good boy.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Where is Blackwood's device now?

Secret Service have it, sir.
They've taken over the case.

I'd wager there's a piece missing.

So Moriarty was after
a piece of the machine...

not the poison.

There's nothing more elusive
than an obvious fact.

The wire-free invention
was the game all along.

And Adler was just the diversion.

He knew I'd chase her,
leaving the machine accessible.

A technology of that kind
would be worth an untold fortune.

Imagine being able
to control any device...

simply by sending a command
via radio waves.

It's the future, Watson.

I've loaded the last of your boxes, sir.

Well...

- Gladstone.
- Stop him before he gets to the front door.

Clarkie.

Case reopened.