All language subtitles for Sherlock Holmes s04e03 Silver Blaze.eng

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It's no good.

I shall have to go.

Go?

Go where?

King's Pyland.

Last evening
Inspector Gregory

of the Devonshire
Constabulary

arrested well known
racing personality

Fitzroy Simpson

and charged him
with the murder

of trainer, John Straker.

Oh, come in.

Two more telegrams,
Mr. Holmes.

Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.

You've been
bombarded with these

the last couple of days.

Another one from
Inspector Gregory.

A note from Colonel Ross.

Awe, that's the
horse's owner.

Thank you my dear.

Watson,

I had made a blunder,

which I am afraid is a
more common occurrence

than anyone would think

who only knew me
through your memoirs.

But the fact is that
I could not believe

that so a remarkable a
horse as Silver Blaze

could disappear,

especially in
the seclusion of

somewhere like Dartmoor.

From hour to hour
I expect to hear

that the abductor was the
murderer of John Straker

and the horse
had been found

but that doesn't
seem to be the case.

I should be happy
to go with you.

No, Tavistock.

If I should not
be in the way.

Oh my dear Watson,

you would confer a great
favor upon me by coming.

I'm sure your time
will not be misspent.

The case promises to
be absolutely unique.

We can just catch our
train from Paddington.

Oh Watson, would
you be so kind

as to bring your
field glasses?

Mrs. Hudson, were
off to Dartmoor.

Tickets please.

Thank you, Inspector.

Thank you.

Watson, were going well.

Our speed at present

is fifty-three and
half miles an hour.

I've not observed the
quarter mile post.

Nor have, I

but the telegraphed posts

on this line are
sixty yards apart.

The calculation
is a simple one.

Has that remarkably,
colored, sporting paper

anything to say on the
subject of our horse?

What?

Oh, Yes.

Yes.

Here we are.

Silver Blaze.

Silver Blaze is
from Isonomy stock.

Isonomy.

And holds as
brilliant a record

as his famous ancestor.

He's now in his fifth year

and has brought in turn

each of the prize
of the turf

to Colonel Ross his
fortunate owner.

At the time of
the catastrophe

he was first favored
for the Wessex Cup.

The odds quoted being
two to one against.

He's always been
a prime favorite

of the racing public

and has never yet
disappointed them.

In spite of the
unfavorable prize,

a great deal of money
has been placed upon him,

so it is obvious,
therefore,

that there are
many people

with the
strongest interest

in preventing Silver Blaze

from being there at
the fall of the flag.

All right, Baynes,

will you stop here please

cause this is a
rather good view.

Now that's King's Pyland,
over there Mr. Holmes.

You know my
training stable

where the missing
horse was kept.

What exactly does your
establishment consist of,

Colonel Ross?

Well, there's the
trainer's house,

where poor Straker
lived with his wife

and a maidservant.

How long had he
been with you sir?

Oh, five years at jockey

until he got too heavy
for the weighing chair.

Then seven years
as my trainer.

Yes, he was a
first class man.

And I presume the
stables are beyond?

Yes, yes not a big
yard, it's a good one.

My thought is
quality not quantity.

As anyone connected
with the turf

will tell you, Mr. Holmes.

Yes, thank you, Inspector.

You see, at the moment,

I'm merely five
horses in the yard.

I see you have two of them

entered for the Wessex
Cup, Colonel Ross.

That's right, yes.

Yes, Silver Blaze
and Bayard.

But between us Bayard is
intended for a pacemaker.

Well with such valuable
animals under his charge,

I imagine your
trainer Mr. Straker

must have taken
some precautions.

Oh yes indeed.

Three stable lads
lived with the horses

and after dark
one of the lads

was always on duty
in the stables

while the other two
sleep above in loft.

Is that another training
stable over there?

Yes, that's Mapleton.

Lord Backwater's yard.

Lord Backwater?

Lord Backwater
owns Desberly,

second favorite
for the Wessex Cup.

This is not a bad horse.

Not in the same class
as Silver Blaze.

Fellow called,
Silas Brown,

trains for Backwater,
[unintelligible] himself.

Nor could Straker
come to that.

There's a natural
rivalry I presume.

Rather more than that.

Shall we drive on?

Yes, indeed.

All right, Baynes.

Inspector Gregory,

are there any
further developments

as to the where
abouts of the horse?

Nothing at all.

We have made very
little progress

in that direction.

I can't imagine how a
horse like Silver Blaze

could go missing for so
long in a place like this.

Nor can I.

I must tell
you Mr. Holmes,

that at first I was
not at all taken

with Inspector
Gregory's suggestion

that you should be
asked to come down here.

I don't like
amateurs you see?

Ha!

But you did send me
a telegram, Colonel.

Well no one else seems to
be able to find my horse.

If you ask me it's
these damn gypsies

wondering all
over the moor.

It's a perfect scandal,
I've said so for years.

My men have seen

every group of
gypsies on Dartmoor

in the last two
days, Colonel.

And searched
every stable yard,

quarry and cave
in south Devon.

It's an absolute mystery.

I expect a miracle
from you, Mr. Holmes.

Inspector Gregory,

my friends at
Scotland Yard tell me

that you're rapidly making
a reputation for yourself

in the English
detective service.

I'm a keen student
of your methods too,

Mr. Holmes.

I have the two principle,
witnesses waiting for you.

Thank you.

In here, Mr. Holmes.

Who are they?

Edith Baxter, the maid

and Hunter, the stable boy

who was on duty
on Monday night.

It was just a few minutes
after nine o'clock, sir.

I was carrying
Mr. Hunter supper

across from the house.

Awe, but Miss Baxter,

what did the
supper consist of?

It was a dish of
curried mutton, sir.

Suddenly I heard
a man's voice.

Did not give me a turn,
I can tell you sir.

Excuse me, Miss.

What do you want, sir?

Can you tell
me where I am?

I'd almost made up my
mind to sleep on the moor

when I saw the light.

This is King's Pyland
training stable, sir.

What a stroke of luck.

I understand
there's stable lad

who sleeps here at night.

No doubt that's his
supper you have there.

I'm sure you wouldn't
be too proud to earn

yourself the price of
a new dress would you?

See the boy has
this tonight

and you shall have
the prettiest frock

money can buy.

I couldn't!

Ned!

Ned!

Ned!

There's a man
stopped me out there.

I'm ever so frightened.

What did he want?

He asked after you.

He asked me to
give you something.

What was it?

I don't know.

It was white.

Where is he now?

He's gone.

We best cut back
to the house quick.

Tell the governor!

Yes Ned.

Good evening.

I want a word with you.

What business
have you here?

It's a business that may

put something in
your pocket, my lad.

Now you've two horses
entering the Wessex Cup,

Silver Blaze and Bayard,

let me have the
straight tip

and you won't
be the loser.

Is it the fact that
at the weights Bayard

can give the other
a hundred yards

and five furlongs in the...

You wont get any tips
around here, get out!

After him boy, after him!

The governor
and the others

came down soon enough.

We found not a sight
or sound of the man.

One moment.

When you let the dog out

did you leave the
door open behind you?

Oh excellent,
Watson, excellent.

It's just the point
I was going to make.

I locked the door
behind me sir.

I swear it.

Good lad.

Does Fitzroy Simpson
admit to all this?

He denies nothing.

He says he came
for information.

What about the
white paper?

He says it was a
five-pound note.

What happened next?

Well sir,

it was about dawn

when the mistress
came into my bedroom

and told me to
come with her.

Well when she woke

she'd found Mr.
Straker's bed empty.

Heavens!

The horse is gone...

and the bridle.

Ned, wake up!

Wake the boys.

Ned!

Ned!

Wake up.

Wake up, Ned!

Bill, Robbie come quick,

Silver Blaze is gone.

Over here.

He was dead sir.

His head

it was all knocked in.

It was terrible.

It was a terrible
blow on the head

from some blunt instrument

that had killed him.

It was clear that he had

defended himself
most vigorously.

The blood stained knife.

As to the wound on the
thigh, who can tell?

Well it is possible that
the wound on the thigh

could have been caused
as Straker fell.

The lad here was drugged.

Appreciable quantities
of powered opium

were found in his carry.

Did all the household
eat the same dish?

Yes sir.

I made it myself
and served it.

This black and red scarf?

The gentleman was
wearing that scarf

when he talked to me.

I'd swear that on
the Bible, sir.

Thank you Watson.

Thank you.

Stop it boy.

Stop it.

Come on.

Good dog.

Good boy.

My theory is that Simpson

was under some strong
obligation to Nobble

or otherwise
incapacitate this horse

so that he would be unable
to run in the Wessex Cup.

Clever move that, putting
opium in the boy's food

and easy enough
through that window.

Yes.

Then it was simple.

He obtained a
duplicate key,

led out the horse,

it was his bad luck

that Straker
was alert enough

to catch him
up on the moor,

in the struggle
the horse bolted.

That's no proof

that Simpson
killed Straker.

Well the evidence against
him is very strong.

He was undoubtedly here
on some devious business.

He poisoned
the stable lad.

He had in his
hand a heavy stick

weighted with lead

and his scarf was found

in the dead man's hand.

And he went pale as death

when I confronted
him with that fact.

I really think
we have enough

to go before a jury.

No, no.

No.

Inspector?

A cleaver council would
tear it all to rags.

Has a duplicate key been
found in his possession?

No.

Well what chemist sold
him the powered opium?

And above all
how could he,

a stranger in
this district,

hide a horse and such a
horse as Silver Blaze?

I agree the evidence
is circumstantial

but I think the net is
drawn pretty tightly

around Fitzroy Simpson

and I believe
he is our man.

What sort of fellow is he

and why would he
do such a thing?

Fitzroy Simpson
is a man of

excellent birth
and dedication.

Unfortunately he has

squandered a fortune
on the turf,

which has put him in the
hands of moneylenders

and unscrupulous
bookmakers.

Plenty of those sharks
in the racing world.

I didn't know that

you were a betting
man, Watson.

What?

Oh, just the
occasional flutter.

I presume an inventory
has been made

of what Straker
had in his pockets

at the time of his death?

I have the
things themselves

in the sitting room

if you would
care to see them.

Weiss & Co., London.

From the bloodstains,
I presume,

this is the knife
that was found

in the dead man's grasp.

Yes indeed.

This is more in
your line, Doctor.

This is what we call
a cataract knife.

Very delicate blade

devised for very
delicate work.

Strange thing
for a man to take

on so rough an
expedition, Holmes,

especially as it wouldn't
shut in his pocket.

Awe, the tip was guarded
by a disc of cork,

which we found
beside the body.

You impress me, Inspector.

Thank you.

Mrs. Straker says it was
on the dressing table.

It was probably

the nearest thing
to him at the time.

I see.

I see.

Corn merchants bill.

Instructions from
Colonel Ross.

Awe what have we here?

A milliner's account

for thirty-seven pounds
fifteen shillings

for a Madame Lesurier,

of Bond Street, London,

to a Mr. William
Derbyshire.

Mrs. Straker tells us

that Derbyshire was a
friend of her husband's

and on occasionally

had his letters
addressed here.

Twenty-two guineas.

Somewhat heavy for
a single costume.

Mrs. Derbyshire had
rather expensive taste.

Yes.

Well there appears to be

nothing more to learn
here, Inspector,

shall we move onto the
scene of the crime?

Yes, of course.

After you Watson.

Have you got
them, Inspector?

Is there any more news?

I'm afraid not,
Mrs. Straker.

But Mr. Holmes
and Doctor Watson

have come down from
London to help us.

I assure you we're doing
everything possible.

I wish you good
luck, Mr. Holmes.

Oh thank you madam
and my commiserations

on your great loss.

Surely we've met?

At a garden party

in Plymouth some time ago.

No sir.

You are mistaken.

No, do you know I
could have sworn it.

You wore a costume
of dove-colored silk

with ostrich
feather trimming.

I never had such
a dress, sir.

That quite settles it.

Thank you.

That is the bush where
the coat was hanging.

What was the weather like?

Wind calm bit
of rain about.

And the coat was not
blown against the bush

but placed there?

Oh yes, it was placed.

Inspector!

No, no, no!

So many people have
trampled around this land.

There have been
many people here.

That piece of matting
has been placed there

and we have all
stood upon there.

Not the general public.

I have in this bag

one of the boots
John Straker wore,

one of Fitzroy
Simpson's shoes,

and a cast horseshoe
of Silver Blaze.

Thank you, Inspector.

Half burned wax candle.

I cannot understand how
I came to overlook them.

Oh they're invisible,
buried in the mud.

I only saw them because
I was looking for them.

What, you expected
to find them?

I thought it not unlikely.

I'm afraid there
are no more tracks.

I've examined the ground

for a hundred yards
in every direction.

What a pleasant evening.

I think I'll take a
walk, stretch my legs.

Watson?

Yes, indeed.

I'll take this for luck.

I have some work
to do in the house,

then Colonel
Ross is coming

to take us back
to Tavistock.

Good evening, Constable.

Suppose that Silver
Blaze broke away,

where would he have gone?

If he'd run
loose on the moor

he'd have surely
been seen by now.

Perhaps the gypsy
theory's correct.

No, no, no, no.

A horse is a most
gregarious creature.

Now he did not go
back to King's Pyland

to his own stable,

so he must have gone...

to Mapleton.

Now let us use that as
a working hypothesis.

The ground around here
is very hard and dry

but over there
in that hollow

it must have been very
wet on Monday night.

If our supposition
is correct,

he must have crossed it.

Watson!

By George, look at that.

You see the value
of imagination

is the one quality,

which Inspector
Gregory lacks.

We imagined what
might have happened,

acted upon the
supposition,

and find ourselves
justified.

Let us proceed.

Look!

Look!

Horse and man turned.

No loitering around here.

Haven't you got
eyes in your head.

I only wanted to
ask you a question.

Should I be too early

to see Mr. Silas Brown,

if I was to
call around here

at five-thirty
tomorrow morning?

I shouldn't be speaking
to you by rights.

Here lad

please accept.

Bless you, sir.

You're a gentleman.

Mr. Brown's the early bird

around here all right.

Dawson?

What are you doing
gossiping with strangers?

Be about your business.

Now what the devil do
you two want around here?

Just a few minutes of
your time, Mr. Brown.

Be off with you

or you'll find the
dog on your heels.

Why should I talk every

gadabout stranger
on the moor?

It may save you
instant dismissal

from Lord
Blackwaters' service

and the stiffest
prison sentence.

Keep guard.

Early Tuesday morning,

you're about the
yard as usual,

when you saw a
horse on the moor.

When you approached
it you realized

that it wasn't a
strange horse at all.

It was one that you
knew, very well.

Your first instinct
was to lead Silver...

Silver Blaze back
to King's Pyland

but then the devil put

other ideas
into your head.

You have a chance to make
a great deal of money.

It occurred to you

that if you were
to hide the horse...

You've been watching
me haven't you?

You've been
spying on me, sir.

Now.

Sir.

I do what you want.

If it's money you want

you shall have it.

You will do exactly
as I tell you.

A more perfect compound

of the bully,
coward and sneak

that Master Silas Brown

I've seldom met with.

He has the horse then?

Of course.

But his stables
have been searched.

An old faker like him

knows many a dodge.

Watson, I didn't know
whether you observed

but Colonel Ross' manner

has been somewhat
cavalier.

I'm inclined to have
a little amusement

at his expense.

Say nothing to him
about the horse.

I shall say nothing
without your permission.

Splendid.

We have found traces,

which show that a
party of gypsies

encamped on Monday night

within a mile of where
the murder took place.

Fitzroy Simpson

may well have an
understanding with them

over hiding the horse.

Nevertheless,

I think I owe
it to the public

to remove Silver
Blaze's name

for the entrance
for the cup.

No, certainly not!

Colonel, I should
let the name stand.

But I've already
withdrawn Bayard.

But I have every hope

that Silver Blaze will
start on Saturday.

Have your jockey
at readiness.

I'm very glad to have
your opinion, sir.

That is a minor
point, of course,

compared with the question

of who killed
John Straker.

Doubtless you will
be devoting yourself

to that problem.

On the contrary,
Doctor Watson and I

were taking the Night
Express to London.

We've had the most
charming little breath

of your country air.

So you've despaired
already of arresting

the murderer of
poor John Straker.

With our certain
grave difficulties.

Do you have the
photograph of Straker?

Thank you, Inspector.

I am quite ready
now for Tavistock.

Linger.

I must say I am
rather disappointed

in our London consultant.

I don't see that were any
further than when he came.

But at least you have
his assurance Colonel

that your horse will run.

Oh yes, I have
his assurance.

I should prefer
to have the horse.

I think you should

heed Mr. Holmes
advice, Colonel.

Well I shall have to see.

Excuse me,

whom looks after
these sheep?

I do, sir.

Have you noticed
anything amiss of late?

No sir.

Well it's not
much account,

but three of them
have gone lame.

Thank you.

A long shot, Watson,
a very long shot.

After you.

Inspector I would like
to recommend to you

the singular epidemic
among the sheep.

You really consider
that to be important?

Exceedingly so.

All right Baynes.

Is there any other point

to which you wish to draw
my attention, Mr. Holmes?

To the curious incident

of the dog in
the nighttime.

But the dog did nothing
in the nighttime.

That is the
curious incident.

Where the devil is
my horse, Holmes?

No, no, no, no,

Where the devil is he?

I suppose, Colonel,

that you would
recognize him

if you saw him?

Know my own horse?

I have been on the
turf for twenty years

and I've never been asked

such a damn fool
question before.

A child would
know Silver Blaze

with the white star
on his forehead

and mottled hind leg.

I suppose you realize
if my horse doesn't run,

quite a part from being
lynched by the crowd,

I shall be up before
the Stewards'.

Probably warned off

every racecourse in
England for life.

Reputation ruined.

Awe, let us hope it does
not come to that, Colonel.

Here's Doctor Watson.

And this, Colonel,

is your horse.

But that's not
my horse, Holmes!

Good God man, what
have you done?

There Colonel is
your Silver Blaze.

I found him in the
hands of a faker

and brought him to the
course just as he was.

Good heavens.

You take my breath
away, Mr. Holmes.

Silver Blaze.

If he runs me lord

to win a place me lord?

To win, of course.

Any more like you at home?

Run Silver Blaze, run!

Come on!

What's the matter
with the damn horse?

What have you done
to him Holmes?

He seems to be
missing his pacemaker.

I should have never
withdrawn Bayard.

Wait a minute he's
breaking through.

Come on Silver Blaze.

Come on Silver Blaze.

Silver Blaze!

Go on.

Go on.

Go on.

Go on.

You've done
wonders Mr. Holmes,

and I owe you a
thousand apologies

for having doubted
your ability.

Now you've done me
a great service

by recovering my horse.

You'd do me a
greater still

if you could
lay your hands

on the murderer
of John Straker.

I've done so.

What?

What's all this
about if you got him.

Where is he then?

He's here.

Here!

Where?

Some who's now present
at this very moment.

Yes I quite recognize

that I'm under obligations
to you Mr. Holmes,

but this either a very
bad joke or an insult.

Oh the real
murderer, Colonel,

is standing
immediately behind you.

What the horse?

Yes, the horse.

And it may lessen
his guilt if I say

that it was done
entirely in self-defense,

and that John Straker

was a man quite
unworthy of your trust.

Number four, sir, winner.

Come Ross.

Yes, thank you very much.

Thank you very much.

Number twelve.

Number twelve.

Very proud of it.

Very proud.

Thank you very much.

Thank you.

I confess, gentlemen,

when we came down
to King's Pylan,

I was convinced
that Fitzroy Simpson

was the true culprit.

All the newspaper
and police reports

seemed to point to it.

It was only when

I entered the
trainer's house

that the immense
significance

of the curried mutton
occurred to me.

I confess that even now

I cannot see
how it helps us.

Powdered opium, Colonel,

is by no means tasteless.

I am correct?

Oh quite correct.

The flavor is
not distasteful

but it is perceptible.

Were it mixed with
an ordinary dish

the eater would
undoubtedly detect it

but would probably
eat no more.

Curry was exactly
the medium

with which to
disguise the taste.

So it must have been
Straker or his wife?

Exactly.

Cause I remember
you spoke of a dog.

Yes, the dog that didn't
bark in the night.

Well someone had
been into the stable

and taken out the horse

and the dog
had not barked.

So obviously this
midnight visitor

was someone the
dog knew well.

I wasn't really convinced
that it was a stranger.

But for what purpose

should he take
out the horse

and drug his
own stable boy?

A dishonest
one, obviously.

There have been
cases before now

where trainers have
made great sums of money

by laying against
their own horses

and then preventing
them from winning.

Well sometimes you
get a poorling jockey,

I will say that.

And sometimes

by surer and most
subtler means.

This

singular knife,

it was found in
the dead man's hand

and which no sane man

would use as a
weapon, right?

Oh yes, only, only used

in the most
delicate operations.

It was used for a

very delicate
operation that night.

Excuse me.

As you know, Colonel,

with your wide knowledge
of turf matters

that it is possible
to make a slight nick

in the horse's tendon,

and do it, subcutaneously.

Any slight lameness

will be put down to
a strain in training

or bruised,
never foul play.

Villain!

The damn Scoundrel!

Not an operation to
be done in the stable.

No food for me.

So sensitive a creature

would arouse the
soundest of sleepers.

I've been blind
and Gregory too.

Of course, that's why
he needed the candle

and struck the match.

When I examined
Straker's belongings

I was fortunate
enough to discover

not only the
method of the crime

but also the motive.

Most men do not carry

other people's bills
in their pockets.

From this I concluded

that Straker was
leading a double life.

The nature of the bill

shows that there was
a woman in the case.

And a woman of
expensive taste.

Liberal though you are
with your servants,

I'm sure they're
not able to afford

twenty-two guinea, walking
dresses for their ladies.

Mrs. Straker never had
one by her own admission.

When I visited Bond
Street the other morning,

I showed Madame Lesurier

this photograph
of Straker.

She recognized him

as an extremely
good customer

called William Derbyshire,

with a very
dashing young wife

with a partiality for
expensive dresses.

Women!

Women!

I suppose it was she

who plunged him head
over heels into debt

and so left him to
his miserable plot?

Straker let out Silver
Blaze into the hollow

where his light would not
be visible from the yard.

Simpson in his flight

had dropped his scarf.

Straker picked it up

with the idea, no doubt,

that he might use it

in securing
the horses leg.

Straker was able
to light his candle

but just as he had
the knife ready

the horse lashed out

and caught him a fatal
blow on the forehead.

Why?

And why did the horse
lash out so suddenly?

Frightened by the
candle, the knife?

Well animals have
a strange instinct.

They seem to know

when some mischief
is intended.

My final shot I must
confess, was a long one.

It struck me that
such astute man,

as Straker would
not undertake this

tendon-nicking without
a little practice.

The sheep!

Of course!

Wonderful, my dear.

Now you've explained

all but one thing.

The horse.

Now where was the horse?

Well I think we must have

a little amnesty in
that direction, Colonel.

It bolted and
was looked after

by one of your neighbors.

Gentlemen I
give you a toast

to Silver Blaze

coupled with the
names of my friends,

Mr. Sherlock Holmes

and Doctor Watson.

To Silver Blaze.

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