All language subtitles for 08 Sherlock Holmes And The Scarlet Claw English

08 Sherlock Holmes And
The Scarlet Claw English.

Who could be ringing the
church bell at this time?

Maybe it ain't a who father

maybe it's an it.

And maybe it's tolling the bell.

Awe, there's no such things
as ghosts and monsters.

Haven't I made
that clear to you?

Something tore the throats
out of Charlie Roches sheep

and that something
didn't leave any tracks.

Andy Trent here saw a weird glow

moving across the marshes
last night

and this morning he found
two of his sheep dead.

There throats torn open.

Maybe the same thing
that killed Andy's sheep

is tolling the bell.

I was on my way just now

to deliver a special letter
at Penrose Manor

when a strange light
appeared on the road before me

then moved quickly
across the marshes

and faded into the mist.

I turned the cart around
and hurried back here.

It's not real.

First the light
and now the bell.

There's a very sound and logical reason
for the bell tolling at this time

and I'm going to find out
what it is.

You can drive me to
the church Potts.

The letter can wait.

No hurry.

Nothing will harm you
if you're with the priest.

Is that true, Father?

Awe, what you need is more
faith and less imagination.

Come along.

I'd better deliver that letter
to the manor.

I'm sure it's important.

Thank goodness
that bell has stopped.

Odd it's tolling
at this time of night.

I don't like it.

What with this phantom
roaming the marshes.

I saw it again tonight.

Who would that be?

Where's Lord Penrose?

He's gone to Quebec.

Get him on the phone
immediately.

What's happened, Father?

Lady Penrose dead
clutching the bell rope,

tolling for help.

It was dreadful.

Her Ladyship.

Call Sergeant Thompson
at the police station.

Ask him to come
to the church immediately.

Come with me, Potts.
I may need you.

Yes, Father.

Operator, put me through
to Quebec.

Lord William Penrose.

Yes.

He's addressing a meeting of the
Royal Canadian Occult Society

at a Quebec hotel.

It's urgent, sir.

Page.

- Yes, sir.
- Lord Penrose.

La Morte Rouge
is on the telephone.

- It's urgent, he's in the Gold Room.
- Yes, sir.

Gentlemen,

as you know

the greatest obstacle in proving
the authenticity of the occult

lies in finding facts.

However, if the facts are there

even the most harden septic,
provided he has an open mind,

must finally acknowledge the actual
existence of the supernatural.

Do you admit that, Mr. Holmes?

Facts are always convincing,
Lord Penrose.

It's the conclusions drawn from
facts that are frequently in error.

Yes, in the case of the
Hound of the Baskervilles,

as well as the Adventure
of the Sussex Vampire,

- we found that...
- Watson, please.

Oh, sorry.

Well, gentlemen
this time I have facts.

Cold facts.

Many years ago,

one hundred to be exact,

an apparition appeared at night

in the village now called
La Morte Rouge.

The following morning
three people were found dead,

their throats torn out.

Hence the town's
rather a grime name.

Interesting, yes.

But facts, no.

I hardly think the tales
of superstitious pheasants

- can be considered...
- I haven't finished, Mr. Holmes.

The La Morte Rouge
has again been the scene

of these strange and
unexplainable occurrences.

Unexplainable that is
from your point-of-view.

Several of our most
responsible citizens

have actually seen the strange
apparition on the marshes at night

and next morning
sheep were discovered...

With there throats torn out and no traces
of the killer anywhere to be found.

Oh, you've read about it
in the papers.

As a matter of fact, I haven't.

It was a merely a deduction. A
rather obvious one I'm afraid.

Deductions are a weakness of mine
as Doctor Watson can tell you.

Would you believe it,
Holmes could...

Well, those are facts, Mr. Holmes.
Ignore them if you can.

But it's very urgent, sir.

- Very well, go ahead.
- Thank you.

I never ignore facts,
Lord Penrose

and I have no doubt that
the incident of the sheep

with their throats torn out
is unquestionably a fact.

However, the interpretation
of this fact

as being final proof of the existence of
the supernatural is merely supposition

and therefore cannot be
accepted without further data.

Your opinions Mr. Holmes
are undoubtedly the result

of your inability to cope with something
beyond the realm of your comprehension.

I say, old man.

I'm sorry John but this
ridiculous scepticism...

Yes, what is it my boy?

La Morte Rouge
on the telephone, sir.

Very urgent, my Lord.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

- I'm afraid Lord...
- It's quite understandable, Sir John.

Lord Penrose is deeply
entrenched in his beliefs.

That's his privilege.

Oh, hang it all, Holmes,
the fellow was positively rude.

Well, shall we say
a little overwrought, Watson?

I'm leaving immediately.

- Order my car at once and hurry.
- Yes, sir.

Gentlemen, my wife has
just been found dead.

Her throat torn out

in exactly the same manner
as the sheep.

This is terrible!

- I say, you don't think that it's...
- Undoubtedly, Mr. Holmes

you would call it murder
by person or persons unknown.

- I'm sorry, If I can be of any assistance...
- Thank you, no.

I'm afraid the happenings in
La Morte Rouge

wouldn't interest you,
Mr. Holmes.

Under the circumstances
I think we should adjourn.

Yes indeed, Sir John.

Holmes, what a terrible thing.

Uh, Sir John would you be
good enough

- to convey our condolences to Lord Penrose.
- Yes, I'd be glad to.

Say uh...

Can't we get something to eat
before we leave?

We don't often get food
like you do here.

Don't you think of anything
else besides your stomach?

Not that often.
I think I'll get a paper.

- Good morning.
- Good morning, sir.

- I imagine you'll be glad to get back to London, Mr. Holmes?
- Yes indeed.

- Oh, by the way, there's a letter for you, sir.
- Thank you.

Here's something about
Lady Penrose.

She was found in the church
with her throat horribly cut

and then she dragged herself
from the marshes nearby

and tried to summon help
with a bell rope.

What is it...

What is it, Holmes?

- Listen to this, Watson.
- What?

"My dear Mr. Holmes."

I've every reason to believe
my life is in danger.

Yet, if you were to
ask me howl know

I couldn't give you
a logical answer.

There is nothing tangible,
yet like a terrible premonition

it is also frightfully real.

I've heard of you being in Quebec
and I'm turning to you, a stranger,

and asking your help

"in the frantic hope
that you'll not fail me."

Well, whose it from?

It's signed "Lillian Penrose."

Lillian Pen... Lady Penrose?

A letter from the dead woman.
What's it mean, Holmes?

I should say that Lady Penrose
lived in fear of her life.

Some secret hidden
in her past in all probability.

Perhaps,
it isn't as simple as that.

What if Penrose is right?

I'm glad we're going
back to London.

Things like that can't
happen in Baker Street.

- Oh, it's a pity, Watson.
- Huh?

Do you know a village
by the name of La Morte Rouge?

Yes sir, it's about
twelve miles from here

- up towards the falls.
- Thank you.

Great Scott, Holmes. Do you mean
you're going to take on the case?

Quite.

Telephone the airport and cancel
our reservations, will you?

Certainly, sir.

Consider Watson
the irony, the tragic irony,

that we accepted the commission from
the victim to find her murderer.

For the first time we've been
retained by a corpse.

Doesn't seem to be a bell.

Never mind, come along.

Do you think we should?

What a cold,
cheerless looking room.

Yes.

What do you want? Who are you?

Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

I apologize for this intrusion.

Would you mind, gentlemen?

Mr. Holmes, is it your custom to burst into
people's houses without ringing the bell?

We couldn't find the bell, sir.

If you've come here to use the death
of my wife to prove your theories

I must ask you to leave.

Penrose, I received this letter
from Lady Penrose this morning.

I say, that was
devilish awkward.

I'm afraid you're a little late, Mr.
Holmes. My wife's dead.

And I've come here
to find her murderer.

You might have saved
yourself the trouble.

I'm convinced that the solution
to this horrible deed

lies in an understanding
of psychic phenomenon.

Although, I don't expect you
to admit that, Mr. Holmes.

I assure you Penrose,

I neither believe nor disbelieve in
anything including psychic phenomena.

If I could just... see Lady Penrose

it might help dispel much of the mystery
that surrounds these happenings

in La Morte Rouge.

Drake! Why don't you answer
the blasted thing?

Sergeant Thompson
has charge of the case.

You'll find him
at the police station

and now I must ask you to go and
take your assistant with you.

You'll excuse me
if I don't show you out.

Drake? Drake?

Drake where are you?

Watson!

Holmes, I've seen her before.

Right Watson, you have.

- Yes but where?
- Never mind that now

we must examine the wound
before Penrose returns

and has us thrown out
of the house.

Clumsy job.

Just missed her jugular vein.
She must have bled to death.

Must have bled for
several hours, hey?

Possibly more.

Long enough for Penrose
to leave La Morte Rouge

and reach Quebec
in time for the meeting?

- Holmes, you don't suspect Penrose?
- I suspect nobody, Watson

I was just asking a question.

I beg your pardon, gentlemen.

There is another who desired
the death of her Ladyship.

I saw it last night
in the fields

moving in and out
of the shadows.

You're the butler, aren't you?

I was the butler.
I've given notice.

Drake.

Get out. Get out of this...

I trust you found
what you're looking for?

Two things have been
made clear to me, Penrose.

That you're wife was murdered
and that she's Lillian Gentry.

Lillian Gentry?

Will you leave
or must I call the police?

That will not be necessary.

We're on our way
to the police station now.

The wounds found on
Lady Penrose's throat

are identical with those found on
the throats of the dead sheep.

Now, I'm not a
superstitious man, Mr. Holmes

but I don't know of any weapon
capable of inflicting such wounds

except an animal's claw.

Of course it could be done
by a five prong garden weeder.

Not that garden weeder,
Mr. Holmes. That's mine.

I use it to weed the garden
at the back of the jail.

I'm inclined to agree with
the Sergeant, Holmes.

A weapon such as that would of
severed the jugular vein.

Death would have
followed immediately.

Lady Penrose lived long enough
to drag herself to the church

and toll the bell

in a frantic effort
to call for help.

Yes, yes I know all about that

but there must be
some logical motive

instead of all these
goblins and monsters.

Sergeant, have you ever heard
of a Lillian Gentry?

No.

No, I can't say that I have,
Mr. Holmes.

She was a famous actress who
came to America some time ago.

She appeared for many years
in the United States and Canada

and then suddenly
she disappeared.

Her disappearance was never explained
and she was soon forgotten.

But what's the connection between
Lillian Gentry's disappearance

and the death of Lady Penrose?

Lillian Gentry and Lady Penrose
are one in the same person.

The same person?

Precisely.

One more question, Sergeant.

Do your files show anyone
with a prison record

living in La Morte Rouge?

No, Mr. Holmes.

The only person having any connection
with the prison is Emile Journet.

He came here two years ago
with his daughter

and bought the hotel.

He was a guard at Talon Prison.

Thank you, Sergeant.

I hear there are a lot of
prairie chicken in these parts.

I'd like to have a bang
at them some day.

I think that can be
arranged, Doc.

Yes, we can stop over
at a farmyard

and you can shoot
all the chickens you want.

That's all very funny, Holmes.

Here you are, old fellow.

We're going to engage rooms
at Monsieur Journet's hotel.

Soggy old foot...

Landlord!

I say landlord!

Place seems deserted.

Won't be for long
if you bellow like that.

Land... Oh sorry, Holmes.
Got to try and make someone...

- Yes, Monsieur?
- My dear, have you got a room for us?

- Yes, Monsieur.
- Good.

Sign here please.

- I'll sign for us both.
- Oh, thank you.

You seem very young
to be in charge here.

Yes, Monsieur.

You are Mademoiselle Journet?

Marie Journet, Monsieur.

My dear you've been crying. Why?

Papa's going away.

Oh, come now.
That's the tragedy?

Wouldn't you cry if you're
papa were going away, Watson?

I don't believe I so.

This way, Monsieur.

- Bring your bags please.
- Yes, of course.

Huh, wouldn't I be unhappy
if my father went away...

Haven't seen my father
for years.

Only died about
twenty years ago...

Bills, bills, bills.

That's the way it goes, Emile.

It costs money to be born
and it costs money to die.

Do you know who that was
in the car?

It was Sherlock Holmes.
He's here now.

What do you think he'll find?

Ghosts and monsters.

What else is there
for him to find?

I don't know.

You're afraid, Emile.

- Of course I am and so are you.
- Who isn't?

Why should Sherlock Holmes
come here?

To investigate the death
of Lady Penrose. What else?

I'm afraid Mr. Holmes will return
to London a sadder but a wiser man.

Why do you say that?

Well you can't arrest ghosts
and monsters, can you now?

Well, I'm on my way.

The mail must be delivered.

That's better.

This room gives me the creeps.

It's very seldom used, Monsieur.

It isn't often that strangers
come to La Morte Rouge

and when they do
they never stay.

I can't say that I blame them.

Will your father be away
for long?

- I... I don't know, Monsieur.
- When is he leaving?

I don't know.

Marie?

If you need anything
just ring, Monsieur.

That girl's frightened, Holmes.

Obviously.

She made the mistake of telling
us that her father was leaving.

Huh?
You don't think that Journet...

Suppose we have a little talk
to Monsieur Journet,

might prove illuminating.

- Didn't I tell you not to answer any questions?
- Yes.

- Didn't I tell you to keep a silent tongue in your mouth?
- Yes, papa.

- So, you told them I was going away?
- Yes, papa.

That'll teach you
to keep your mouth shut.

Uh, Monsieur Journet,

just why are you leaving
La Morte Rouge

at this particular time?

I'm not leaving.

- What gave you the idea that I was?
- Your daughter.

My daughter's mistaken.

I merely said that
I would like to go away.

I've just been teaching
her the difference.

Yes, so I observed.

I can't say that I approve
of your method, sir.

I'll ask you to mind
your own business.

Run along, dear.

There there, my dear.

- Disgraceful hitting a child...
- Watson.

Monsieur Journet's quite right.
It's none of our business.

Monsieur Journet,

what do you know of
the death of Lady Penrose?

Only what everyone
in the village knows

that she was killed
by the monster.

Have you seen this monster?

No but who else could have
done this terrible thing?

Sheep have been killed,
their throats torn out.

You were a jailer at
Talon Prison weren't you?

Well, yes, Monsieur.

Why did you decide to
come to La Morte Rouge?

Well, I always wanted
to own a hotel

and I heard this one was
for sale so I bought it.

That was two years ago.

Yes.

I believe it was about the time the
monster made his reappearance, wasn't it?

Do you suspect me of being
the monster, Mr. Holmes?

No, no, no, no.

I was just remarking
a coincidence.

I thought you didn't believe
in those things, Holmes.

Quite right, Watson. I don't.

At least not in the
supernatural variety.

Not the werewolf who bites into
his victim's throat with his teeth

but a monster who uses
for his weapon of death

a five-prong garden weeder.

Yes,
that's a little more my line.

I don't know what you mean.

I mean that this monster's
been recreated

and used as a screen behind,
which to commit a horrible crime.

Whoever did it felt certain that no
suspicion could possibly fall on him?

But my unexpected arrival
upset his plans.

Very possibly he became
frightened, decided to run away.

You're right, masseur.

I was running away

but not for the reason you
think but in fear of my life.

And who would want to kill you?

I don't know. It's like some
terrible premonition

but it's so real.

The very word that's in
Lady Penrose's letter.

Yes.

That still doesn't explain
this garden weeder.

I swear to you I know nothing
about it's being here.

Hadn't we better send for that
fellow Sergeant Thompson?

No Watson,
that won't be necessary.

Monsieur Journet knows
as well as we do

that you can't run away
from yourself.

Oh, would you be so good
as to return this

to Sergeant Thompson, Monsieur?

I took it away quite
by accident.

Monsieur Journet
knows as well as we do

you can't run away
from yourself.

This fellow Journet
seems a very frightened chap.

Do you think he has any connection
with Lady Penrose's murder?

Time will tell us
many things, Watson.

And now my dear fellow

there's something you
can do for me, if you will.

Anything, Holmes.

I knew I could rely on you.

I want you to mingle with the
people in the café tonight.

Find out all you can

and keep a particularly
sharp eye on Journet.

- Sort of take over the case?
- That's right, old boy.

I want to get a good
night's rest

before starting out again
in the morning.

Oh and incidentally,

make yourself as inconspicuous
as possible, will you?

Inconspicuous?

You can depend on me.

Oh, thank you, my dear.

I'm glad to see that
the tears are all gone.

Are you feeling better?

Thanks to you and Mr. Holmes,
Papa is not going away.

Not going away? Oh good.

Journet not going away.

There are many phases
of the supernatural, Mr. Drake.

Witchcraft, vampires,
werewolves, ghosts, monsters.

You'll find them all
in the history of crime.

So, I say to myself,

Potts this is the handy work
of the supernatural.

I gather that your name is Potts

and that you're interested
in the detection of crime.

Allow me to introduce myself.
My name's Watson,

Doctor Watson of 221 -B
Baker Street, London, England.

How do you do, sir?

Here's to crime,
bigger and better crime.

I deduce my good man
that you are somewhat drunk.

Well, sharp he is,
sharp as a tack

and just as flat headed.

You might also deduce
that I'm leaving this place.

Getting up and soon as
the bus I'm waiting for

hoots it's hooter.

I believe they say honks
its hooter in these parts.

Hoots to me, honk to you.

Hoot hoot.

My dear fellow,
I don't care two hoots

whether it's hoot or honk.

Well, that's my bus, gentlemen.

I just heard it hoot
its hooter, distinctly.

If you solve this case
let me know

but personally
I'm betting on the monster.

You take my advice, Pottsy.

Get out of this place before they
find you with your throat cut.

Hoots, it's hooter.

Nervous?

Well, the thought of having your
throat torn out by some monster

isn't likely to make you
very gay, Doctor Watson.

No indeed.

Some of Monsieur Journet's excellent
wine will soon remedy that.

Marie, would you bring a bottle
of this excellent wine

for my friend here?

Yes, Monsieur.

Mr. Potts as a student
of the occult

supposing you give me your
theory of this murder.

Oh, you'll like this wine.

Oh, but Doctor Watson

I never drink anything
stronger than milk.

- Teetotaler?
- No, hiccups.

Every time I drink alcohol
I have hiccups.

Oh, sorry.

Mr. Holmes.

Mr. Holmes.

This circle is where the murder
actually occurred?

Yes, Mr. Holmes.

There's a footpath
just beyond the church,

which leads across the marshes

follow it for half a mile
and you'll be there.

Thank you, Sergeant.
I'm sure I'll find it.

Mr. Holmes, I'd wish you'd let
me go with you.

It's dangerous in
the marshes at night.

- These swamps, the one false step...
- I'm sorry, Sergeant

but it's important I go alone.
I'll keep close to the path.

- Well, will Doctor Watson be going with you?
- No, Sergeant.

I asked him to do some
research work of his own

and by now he's probably
magnificently involved. Good night.

Good night, Mr. Holmes.

But according to your theory,
Doctor Watson,

everyone in the village
is under suspicion.

- Pardon me.
- It's quite all right.

Oh, thank you.

Murder is a very interesting
story gentlemen.

I will recall a short story
by that brilliant author.

G.K. Cheston

in which the murder is
committed by a postman

I refer of course
to the invisible man.

A brilliant bit of deduction
on the part of Father Brown.

I'm a postman.

This is precisely
why I mentioned it

to understate the absurdity
of assuming

cause one man in the
postman's uniform is a murderer

any other man in the same
uniform should be suspected.

Thanks.
Had me worried for a minute.

Oh, fiddlesticks, flabberdab.

A child can see that this
ridiculous monster has,

has got you all afraid
of your own shadow.

I saw Lady Penrose.

I wouldn't like it
to happen to me.

I'll be getting on.

I'm going with you.

Good night, Doctor.

Good night.

It's quite all right.

Well, what's so strange
about a church bell ringing?

It rang the same time
last night.

Excuse me, Doctor Watson,

can you tell me if
Mr. Holmes is armed.

Armed my dear fellow,
why should he be?

He's gone to bed.

Your wrong, Doctor.

He went out in
the marshes alone.

I tried to go with him
but he refused.

But Great Scott if he runs into
this monster and he's by himself

he'll get killed!

Holmes! Holmes!

Are you all right?

Where are you, Watson?

Here I am, over here, Holmes.

- Watson, where are you?
- I'm in the bog.

Oh, good gracious.

Come here. You're instructions
were to mingle with the people

and stay in the café.

Sergeant Thompson said
you were out here alone

so I thought you might
need help.

Yes, so you proceeded
to fall in the bog?

Fall? I was pushed
into the blasted thing.

Pushed by the most ghastly
apparition.

Came at me like
a roaring furnace

with spitting fire
in all directions.

Before I could get my revolver
the thing was upon me.

Well the next thing I knew
I was... I was in the bog.

Are you all right, Mr. Holmes?
I heard shots.

Yes, I'm all right but Doctor Watson here
seems to have encountered the monster.

He has?

Come on, old fellow

we'd better get you out
of these wet clothes

and into a hot tub before you
catch a death of cold.

Here, you've had enough of that.

Drink this.

You'll be as fit as a fiddle
in the morning.

Sorry you had such a bad time.

I've got a right
to share your dangers.

Thanks, old fellow.

You know, I wasn't sure that
the villagers weren't right

and if it did turn out to be some
sort of supernatural monster,

well why should I involve you?

Rubbish.

However, I did learn something.

I can now state positively

that our antagonist
is not a phantom.

But the thing actually
spat flames at me.

Oh, just a figment
of your imagination.

The murderer knew
I was out on the marshes

and obviously
wanted to frighten me.

He frightened me all right.

How did he manage the flames?

Merely clothing
treated with phosphorus.

When the murderer fled
his shirt caught on a tree

and this piece of cloth
was torn off.

Come in.

I'd like a few words with you,
Mr. Holmes.

I'll come directly to the point.

Hello.

What happened to your assistant?

I'm not his assistant.

If you must know I was pushed
into a boggy hole on the marsh.

Pushed?

BY Whom?

I don't know.

Spat fire at me.

My good sir,

in spite of Mr. Holmes'
theories to the contrary

things have been seen
and heard on those marshes

that cannot be explained away
by the use of logic.

If I were you
I'd keep away from them.

I'm not so sure. Holmes found...

Penrose, for the first time
in my long pursuit of crime,

I confess that I
find myself baffled.

I'm a detective
I need tangible clues

and up to now I admit
I found none.

And you won't.

I advise you to leave
La Morte Rouge.

Tonight you escaped
with your life.

Next time you may not
be so fortunate.

Thank you for your considerate
advice Lord Penrose.

- Good night, sir.
- Excuse me.

Oh, good night.

I don't like that fellow,
Holmes.

Why do you think he came here?

He wanted to find out if
we discovered anything.

He seemed very pleased
when I told him we hadn't.

Now Watson, there are one or two questions
I want to ask Sergeant Thompson.

You stay here.

I have a vitally important
job for you.

Anything, Holmes.
What do you want me to do?

- Go to bed.
- Hmm?

Yes, it's cotton fabric.

Here take a look.

That discoloration,

the purple ink
must have been spilt on it.

Possibly.

I should say this cloth
was red with blue lines.

Probably large checks

and it seems to have been
laundered a good many times.

The blues lines are
almost completely erased.

Yes, you can scarcely see them.

It's good fabric,
well woven, with a solid base.

- Hello, Bill.
- Hello, Sergeant,

Your phone call must be important to
bring me over this time of the night.

It was,
this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

He wants to ask you
a few questions.

This is Mr. Taylor,
the storekeeper, Mr. Holmes.

- Oh. Good evening, Mr. Taylor.
- Good evening, mister.

Have you any shirts
of this design?

Squares are red
and the lines blue.

Yes, I have.

Can you remember to whom
you sold them?

I can.

I keep them in stock
especially for Judge Brisson.

He won't have anything else.

Judge Brisson, who's he?

A retired magistrate.

He's a cripple. Lives alone
with his housekeeper.

Have you sold any of these
shirts to anyone else?

No, sir. They're too expensive
for the village and the boatmen.

This is the finest
material imported.

You say, Judge Brisson's
a cripple?

Yes. He was a magistrate
in Quebec.

Had a stroke about
two years ago,

that's why he retired and came
here to live in La Morte Rouge.

Just about the time that
Monsieur Journet arrived here.

Now that you mention it,
it was just about then.

Hello, operator?

Give me Judge Brisson's
home, will you?

Thank you.

Nora.

Let it ring.

Haven't I told you not to
answer the phone at night?

Yes, sir.

Well then, obey my orders.

Yes, sir.

No answer.

- Where's he live?
- On the marsh road

but I don't advise you to go
there after dark, Mr. Holmes.

The place is a fortress
and guarded by a savage dog.

I think Doctor Watson and I

will have to pay Judge Brisson
a visit in the morning.

- Good night, gentlemen.
- Good night, Mr. Holmes.

Two locks on the door,

one of them new.

Yes, I should say
that Lady Penrose death

has increased
Judge Brisson's terror.

Don't like the sound
of that dog.

The dog sounds hungry.

Possibly ravenous.

Could we come back
after he's had his breakfast?

I'm sorry, Watson
our business won't wait.

Oh, he's stop now.

Yes, Watson.

Stop!

- Good, Fido.
- Stop!

- Good, Fido! Good, Fido!
- Who is it?

Sherlock Holmes
and Doctor Watson.

I telephoned Judge Brisson
we were coming.

You can't come in.

He's given orders
no one is to be admitted.

You wouldn't want Judge Brisson's
death on your hands would you?

No, sir.

Then you'd better let us in.

I'll probably lose
my job for this.

Not after we've talked
to Judge Brisson.

My good woman, you... you
keep an eye on that dog.

Oh, don't worry, Watson
you know as well as I do

the dog won't touch you if you're
with its master or mistress.

Well, you know it and I know it

but are you quite sure
the dog knows it?

Good dog, happy dog,
nice winnie, good boy.

Let me warn you I'm armed

and I'm an expert shot.

We didn't come here to
harm you, Judge Brisson

but to protect your life.

I told you over the phone this
morning, Mr. Sherlock Holmes

that I did not want to see you.

I don't want to see anyone.

But I want to see you.

Stay where you are!

Nora, show these men out.

Judge Brisson, if you'll answer
a few questions

I maybe to save your life.

I have the fullest confidence
in my own defences

and I will not trade them for any
theories of Mr. Sherlock Holmes

however plausible
you make them sound.

Now get out, will you?

I'm sorry.

Under the circumstances I'm
helpless to prevent your death,

almost certainly by violence.

Come along, Watson.

Oh, pardon me, may I
trouble you for that envelope?

I must have dropped it.

Thank you.

You're a very clever man,
Mr. Holmes.

A crude device Judge Brisson

but it's confirmed my suspicions

that you're not the cripple
you pretend to be.

I'm sorry but I'm frightened
of everything and everybody.

Won't you sit down?

You want to get shot, Holmes?

Come in Watson
and close the door.

Sit down, old fellow,

Judge Brisson has decided
not to shoot us.

Oh, that's very kind of him.

Gentlemen,
this fear is driving me mad.

It's quite understandable.

The whole village seems
to be consumed with fear

but in your case,
judging from your vicious dog,

those bared windows
and that hunting rifle,

it's not fear
of the supernatural.

Just what are you afraid of?

Well, truthfully Mr. Holmes
I don't know

and yet I feel
its very presence.

At times I feel I can almost
reach out and touch it.

When I first came to
La Morte Rouge

I had a slight attack.
It affected my legs but...

Well, I've recovered.

And you've continued
the deception

using the wheelchair as an excuse
for not going about the village?

Oh, you see people
would be more inclined

- to accept my hermit like existence.
- Yes, naturally.

Tell me, Judge Brisson

had you ever heard of
Monsieur Journet

before you arrived at
La Morte Rouge?

No. No, I hadn't.

How many of these shirts has your
housekeeper purchased for you?

Oh, four or five.
I'm not positive I...

You still have them?

Oh, one or two became badly worn

and I told me housekeeper
to give them to a man

who was doing some
work for me at that time.

Can you describe him?

No, I'm afraid I can't.

That was about a year ago,
you see

and well I didn't pay
much attention to him.

He worked in the garden.

Could your housekeeper
remember him?

No, that was a different
housekeeper then.

She went to the United States.

Try to remember, Judge Brisson.

Your life may depend on it.

I do remember one thing,

he had a very slight limp.

I used to watch him
from that window

as he walked across the lawn.

Splendid.

Continue your vigilance, Judge

and under no circumstances
allow anyone to enter the house

even someone you may know well.

Well, what's that mean, Holmes?

It may mean nothing
and it may mean everything.

I'm quite sure that
Sergeant Thompson

will have observed a man
with a limp

in the village the size of
La Morte Rouge.

Good day, Judge and thank you.

Good day, sir.

I'm sure Sergeant Thompson

will have observed a man
with a limp

in a village the size of
La Morte Rouge.

This is what's left of the
De LaPorte Hotel, Mr. Holmes.

Tanner sleeps here
when he's in La Morte Rouge.

Spooky old place.

Villagers call it
the Wolf House.

It's been deserted for years.

Shh, Watson.

He walks with a limp,

the left foot I think.

To the trained ear, Sergeant

footsteps of cataleptic rhythm are
as identifiable as fingerprints.

What do you want?

We've come to have a talk
with you, Tanner.

I've done nothing.

Then you won't mind
answering a few questions.

What do you want to know?

Tell me, Tanner,

where were you two nights ago?

Down the river.

And last night?

I just got back tonight.

You're lying.

You don't frighten me.

And now, I've got a job to do.

It's quite evident that you
haven't been on the river

within the last
forty-eight hours.

Are you trying to make me out
the murderer of Lady Penrose?

How'd do you know
she was murdered?

I'll tell you how you know
she was murdered

because you murdered her.

Holmes, look.
In there, the monster!

That's right, Watson.

One of Brisson's shirts,

which Tanner here
treated with phosphorus.

Take him, Sergeant. I'll give
you all the evidence later.

You got him, Sergeant.

I'm sure of it.

Come along.

I see no reason why we shouldn't
leave for home tomorrow.

So much for tomorrow
but for tonight

what do you make of this, Watson?
I found it in Tanner's room.

- Just a photograph.
- That's right, old boy just a photograph.

You notice something
else about it?

- Part of it's missing.
- Bravo, Watson!

Now, if we can find
the missing half...

Notice the discoloration of the
torn edge, faded signature,

the upper half was torn off
some time

within the last year
I should say.

Why all this fuss
about an old photograph?

Watson, have you ever
stopped to think

that the science of detection
is very much like

stringing a hand full of beads?

- I can't say that I have.
- Well, it is.

And in this particular case you
might say that I have five beads.

Journet, Brisson, Tanner,
Lord and Lady Penrose.

So far, I haven't any thread
to string them together.

This gentleman is our thread

and I think I shall start
with Lady Penrose.

But Lady Penrose is dead.

The dead can tell us
many things, Sergeant.

You and Doctor Watson
remain here at the hotel.

I'll meet you later.

I'm sure you got Tanner,
Sergeant

but Mr. Holmes is never
satisfied with a dead criminal.

He has to sit in on
the post-mortem.

Come along, let's go downstairs and
celebrate the death of the monster.

That's a good idea, Doctor.

So, the great Sherlock Holmes
becomes a common thief.

You realize of course
that I might have shot you.

I'd knew that you'd
refuse to see me

so naturally
I had to take that chance.

Tell me who is Alistair Ramson?

What does he to do
with your being here?

Perhaps this will explain.

I found the lower half

in a room occupied by
a boatman named Tanner.

The upper half was in
Lady Penrose's safety box.

Alistair Ramson murdered a fellow
actor in my wife's company.

He was sentenced to
life in imprisonment.

The whole thing was
a great shock to her.

So she retired from the stage and
you married her shortly after?

Yes.

Where and when
was this murder committed?

In Quebec five years ago.

Ramson was shot
three years later

trying to escape from
Talon Prison.

His body disappeared
in the Saint Lawrence.

Was it ever recovered?

I don't believe so.

Penrose,
Alistair Ramson and Tanner

are one in the same person.

What?

It was he who sent the upper
half of that photograph

to your wife as a warning.

What could my wife have
in common with a murderer?

Yet he killed her.

He killed her?

The monster was none other
than Tanner himself.

We found a shirt impregnated
with phosphorus in his room.

Tonight when we faced him
with the evidence of his crime

he bolted and jumped out
of the window into the river.

Sergeant Thompson fired
a couple of shots at him.

He's dead?

In a way, yes.

I don't understand.

Tanner is dead
only because he was discovered

and therefore have outlived
his usefulness to his creator.

But I'm afraid that
Alistair Ramson, the actor,

who created and played
the part of Tanner,

is very much alive.

But surely now that you know who
the murderer is the police...

It's not quite as
simple as that.

During the time he's lived here.

Ramson has undoubtedly established
another character for himself.

Perhaps several others.

Who are by now familiar to the
people of the town of La Morte Rouge

and quite above suspicion.

He could be almost anyone
in the village.

He may even have been
your butler, Drake.

- This is fantastic.
- Yes.

If Lady Penrose's death
is only the beginning

there's no saying where
this madman will strike next.

Tell me, is there anyone else
in La Morte Rouge

who may have been
connected in anyway

with the case
of Alistair Ramson?

Judge Brisson was the magistrate
who tried and sentenced him.

Operator,

operator, give me
Judge Brisson's home.

It's urgent.

Judge Brisson,
this is Sherlock Holmes.

Oh yes, Mr. Holmes.

Oh, I'm quite all right,
thank you.

I've chained up the dog
as you asked.

As I asked?

I haven't telephoned you before.

Somebody's obviously
imitated my voice

in order to gain access
to the house.

Oh, certainly, Mr. Holmes.

I'll lock all the doors
and await your arrival.

Yes.

Nora. Nora!

If I can be of any assistance,
Mr. Holmes.

- Thank you but I'm afraid...
- You think Judge Brisson's life's in danger?

I only hope I'm in time
to prevent a second murder.

That's Mr. Holmes. Show him in.

Hurry up, Nora.

Judge Brisson!

Judge Brisson!

Nora!

Nora!

Nora!

Nora!

Do you know who it was?

I don't know. I don't know!

Hello.

Operator,
Monsieur Journet's café.

I want to speak to Sergeant Thompson.
It's urgent.

Sergeant Thompson,
this is Sherlock Holmes.

I'm at Judge Brisson's.
He's been murdered.

Judge Brisson's been murdered.

Judge Brisson?

The murderer gained
access to the house,

gagged and bound
the housekeeper,

then disguised as Nora,
murdered Judge Brisson.

I'm returning to the old
De LaPorte Hotel

on the chance that he'll go
there to change his clothes

and assume another disguise.

Ask Doctor Watson to meet me there
as quickly as you can, will you?

You'd better come here
and once and take charge.

Right.

Throw your revolver on
the floor in front of you

and raise your hands,
Sherlock Holmes.

I should have thought you would have
felt more at home in the spotlight.

I see you've finally
identified me.

Your Jack Tanner and Nora
the housekeeper were brilliant.

You should really take a bow.

It's too bad you appeared
on the scene when you did

and I had to bring down
the curtain on the monster.

Your recreation of the monster
of La Morte Rouge

as a means of murder.

Must have given you
great satisfaction.

Why did you kill Lady Penrose?

I see know reason why
I shouldn't tell you.

I couldn't bear the thought of
another man possessing her.

And Judge Brisson?

During the trial
I grew to hate him

and when he
sentenced me to prison

I vowed that someday
I would escape and kill him.

I see.

Obviously, you planned
still another murder,

otherwise you would have returned to
the safety of your first disguise

and defied me to find you.

You're right, I am.

There was three people in my
life who had no right to live.

Two have already died.

The third remains.

Tonight, I shall kill him.

Mr. Holmes I've always had

the greatest admiration
for your talents.

Thank you.

Your performance in this case
has also been brilliant.

So brilliant,

that I'm afraid I'm going to have to bring
down the curtain on it a bit prematurely.

Uh, Mr. Ramson?

We are artists in our fashion, not
creatures skulking in allies.

If our positions were reversed

I shouldn't think of
sending you to your death.

Lacking a few stray pieces
of the puzzle.

What do you want to know?

The name of the third person.

I have no objection.

If there is a hereafter,
which I doubt,

you and he will meet very soon,
Mr. Holmes.

The name of the
third person is...

- Coming, Holmes.
- Look out, Watson!

All right, Watson.

- Where is he, Holmes?
- He's gone.

Thank heavens your safe.

Thank heaven
you came when you did.

Here it is, Watson.

Look out.

- He got away again.
- Yes, Watson.

Over that warehouse roof
most probably.

What a foul little room.

Yes.

This is obviously
the secret room

where his disguises
were created.

- Looks like an actor's dressing room.
- He is an actor, Watson.

One of the finest acting talents
of our time. Look at this.

Nora the housekeeper.

His name's Alistair Ramson.

Alistair Ramson?
Never heard of him.

Well, that's not important.

The important thing is that he murdered
Lady Penrose and Judge Brisson.

Great Scott! Then he did it.

Yes, Watson.
This Ramson is a paranoiac.

His orgy of crime
is not complete.

There's still another.

I was just about
to learn his name

when you so conveniently
fell down the stairs.

- So sorry, old chap.
- Easy you, old boy.

You saved my life.

Look at this, Watson.

- Tanner.
- Tanner?

Where do you think
he'll strike next?

Obviously, Journet
is to be his third victim.

Journet?

Yes, Watson.

As in the cases of
Lady Penrose and Judge Brisson,

Journet also holds his presence

but in each case it was
vague and unexplainable.

Oh, what connection can he have
with Judge Brisson or Lady Penrose?

Journet was a guard at Talon Prison
where Alistair Ramson was confined.

He's the third person against whom
the murderer holds a grievance.

Now he's disappeared.

Journet disappeared?

Or so,
Marie told us in the café.

Watson, Journet's disappearance
could mean only one thing.

He's in hiding.

Our job is to find him
before Ramson does.

Journet's the only man who can
lead us to the murderer.

We better have a talk with
little Marie.

Hello, Potts.
Have you seen Marie?

No.

Have you seen her?

Can't say I have.

- Marie?
- Watson.

What is it, Holmes?

I'm afraid we're to late.

Marie.

Don't touch anything, Watson.

Murdered in exactly the same way
as Judge Brisson and Lady Penrose.

Poor innocent little child.

I should have prevented this.

Nonsense, my dear chap.

You did everything possible.

How on Earth
could you have prevented it?

The child's death is
a tragedy of course.

I see exactly what happened.

She was standing here
by the desk and the,

the murderer came
in by that door.

He came in through that door
but Marie was not in the room.

She alone of all people in the
café saw Ramson into this office.

He was someone she knew well.

Someone who might have
a message from her father

so she followed him here.

And when she refused to tell him where
her father had gone he killed her.

Ramson already knew
that Journet disappeared

but did he know where?

When he questioned her
she became suspicious

and it was then
that he killed her.

Telephone Sergeant Thompson,
will you?

He's at Judge Brisson's,
ask him to come here at once

and see that no one leaves
the café until he gets here.

The murderer may be among them.

What could have
happened to Holmes?

He's been away all day.

It's very unfair of him keeping
me in suspense like this.

He knows how worried I become.

He continues to do it
and do you know why?

He actually enjoys
making me miserable.

Half a Mo!

No good, Watson. It won't work.

What won't work?

I've been to every place where
Journet could possibly be in hiding.

Oh, so that's where you've
been all day.

Yes, Watson and I must admit
that I'm completely baffled.

- You got to find Journet before it's too late.
- But how?!

I've been everywhere within a radius
of five miles of this village.

I've even been to the church

in the hope that he'd disguise
himself and attend mass.

He may have gone to Quebec.

Every road's covered.

He hasn't left this vicinity,
of that I'm certain.

All right, I'll answer it.

Hello. Hello.

Who was it, Holmes?

Watson, get your hat and coat.

Your very rude, Holmes.

You leave me all day long
with that very dull inspector.

I ask you a perfectly
bright question

and all you say is "Watson,
get your hat and coat."

Were going to find Journet.

Sergeant,
you wait here till I call.

Watson do this, Watson do that.

Watson get your hat and coat...

Brisson's house, huh.
Watson this, Watson that...

It's my opinion that Judge
Brisson's house is the last place

that you'll find Journet.

Put yourself in Journet's
position, Watson.

Where's the most likely place
that Ramson would look for you?

Certainly not in the very house in which
he's just killed one of his victims.

Journet? Journet?

It's Sherlock Holmes
and Doctor Watson

we are here to help you.

I don't like the look of it,
Holmes.

Holmes!

Holmes, where are you?

Here I am, Watson.

- Journet?
- What do you want?

We've come to help you.

How did you know I was here?

When you called
your hotel just now

I answered the telephone.

The chimes of
Brisson's clock here

merely confirmed
what I already knew.

You must return with me
to the café at once.

I'm not leaving this house.

The murderer is waiting
out there in the marshes

to kill me
the moment I leave here.

Naturally, but first
he must have the opportunity.

If you return to the café
he'll have that opportunity.

It's the only way we have
to apprehend the murderer.

What if I refuse?

Journet, what I have to say to
you is not going to be easy.

Marie...

What?

Murdered.

Now you know
why you must return.

This fiend
must be brought to justice.

Justice?

This monster kills
my poor innocent child

and you talk of
bringing him to justice?

Will that compensate me
for the death of Marie?

If it's the last thing I do I'll
kill him with my own hands.

You can't take the law
into your own hands.

Once you've returned to the hotel
he'll make an attempt on your life

and we'll get him.

- How will we know who he is?
- We already know.

It's his disguise
that we haven't penetrated.

Who is he?

Alistair Ramson.

Recognize the name?

He attempted to escape from Talon
Prison when I was a guard there.

Journet, if you don't want to remain
in hiding for the rest of your life

you must return to the hotel and help me to
put an end to this monster for all time.

- Come. Let's go.
- Good.

Put an end to him, how you
going to do that, Holmes?

I'll tell you both about it
on the way to the hotel.

- So, you're really leaving, Doctor?
- Yes, Sergeant.

Gentlemen, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and I
are leaving immediately for London.

It's extremely regrettable
the murderer has escaped us.

All our cases cannot be
crowned with success.

I'm extremely sorry, gentlemen.

Have you no idea
where this fiend has gone?

Mr. Holmes is of the opinion

that he's escaped across the
border to the United States.

It may be years before we can
trace him, if ever.

Oh Journet, just a minute.
Our bill please.

- Bill?
- Yes, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and I are leaving immediately.

Oh, I'm sorry, Doctor Watson

I'm just on my way to the church
to offer a prayer for Marie.

I'll forward your bill to you.

Yes of course, my dear
fellow I understand.

We'll leave our address
at the desk.

Goodbye, Mr. Potts.

It's been a great pleasure knowing
a man of your intelligence.

Thank you, Doctor Watson.

It has been most stimulating talking
to one of your vast experience.

Oh, well thank you.

Let's hope that we shall
meet again some day

and continue our little chats on crime.
It would be most exciting.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Holmes would like
to see you for a minute in his room.

I'll show you where it is.

It's the second room
on the right up there.

Thanks.

Emile, it's me. Potts.

Do you mind if I walk
part of the way with you?

It's a bit frightening out here.

It's these marshes.

This is almost the very spot
where Lady Penrose was attacked.

Three deaths in three days.

It's a pity Marie had to be killed.
She was such a sweet child.

Three deaths in three days

and still one more
to be accounted for.

You are frightened, Emile.

It's strange to see you
showing fear.

The man I hated at Talon Prison.

Ramson!

Sherlock Holmes.

Yes, Mr. Ramson.

So you see, the final curtain
has not fallen after all.

I thought you were on
your way to London.

Naturally, that's what
I wanted you to think.

That's why, Doctor Watson announced
our departure in the café.

Journet's leaving was purely
bait to bring you into the open.

I merely replaced Journet once
he was outside on the street.

May I say Monsieur Ramson

that your disguise as a postman
was a masterpiece of ingenuity?

Your very choice of the role
put you above suspicion.

It was quite easy.

I simply disposed of
the real Mr. Potts

after he had past his
civil service examination

and had been assigned
to La Morte Rouge.

You realize of course that you'll never
hand me over to the police alive?

It's not my function
to be your executioner.

My duty is to hand you over
to the authorities,

which I fully intend to do.

- You're an optimist, Mr. Holmes.
- Oh, not necessarily.

We're surrounded by police
awaiting my signal.

I've killed him... with this.

Ramson's instrument of death
has been his own executioner.

Well gentlemen,
our search for the monster

has ended where it began,
on the marshes. Hey, Watson?

Watson, where are you?

Why isn't here,
he was with us a minute ago.

Watson!

Here... here I am, Holmes.

Where are you?

I've fallen in another hole.

I shall like to have seen a bit more
of Canada before we sailed, Holmes.

So should I, Watson.

Canada, the linchpin of
the English speaking world

whose relations of friendly intimacy
with the United States on the one hand

and unswerving fidelity to
the British Commonwealth

and the Motherland on the other.

Canada,
the link that joins together

these great branches
of the human family.

Churchill say that?

Yes, Watson, Churchill.