All language subtitles for 01 - The Mysterious Death on the Underground Railway

[Train chugging]

[ Brakes squealing]

BEATRICE:
I do beg your pardon.

This is the right train
for Aldersgate, is it not?

Aldersgate, by all means, ma'am.
Aldersgate, of course.

[Whistle blows]

Oh, allow me.

Oh, thank you.

What a relief.

You see, I have an appointment

in St. Paul's churchyard
at 5:00.

Ma'am,
it is only a quarter past 4:00.

You have plenty of time.

I thank you.

[Whistle blows]

My dear, what a happy surprise!

[ Coughs 1

Dear.

No wonder Laura prefers to ride
on the omnibus.

[ Chuckles ]

[ Coughing 1

Ohh!

Oh, my eye.

Oh, it was a cinder.

Easy.

[Train whistle blows]

How kind of you.

Thank you, my dear.

These tubes.

I think this must be
Farringdon Street.

Perhaps you'd nett-

Ohh!

Oh, thank you.

MAN:
Farringdon Street!

This is Farringdon Street
Station!

All change here, please!

All change!

I must apologize, ma'am.

This train
certainly should have gone

straight through to Aldersgate.

This is Farringdon Street!

Hurry along, if you please.

Come along, then, lady.

Where are you for?

[Train whistle blows]

In late Victorian times
there were many detectives --

the rivals
of Sherlock Homes.

[ indistinct conversations]

"Only when the burly shadows
of the two police constables

fell across the tracks

did the scattered passengers
realize something was amiss."

[ Chuckles ]
Turgid stuff.

Now, if only I were writing
that article.

You'd give us all the salient
facts, eh, Polly --

what the well-dressed inspector
is wearing? [ Chuckles]

What'll it be today?

Silverside, if you please,
and carrots and pease pudding.

You take my advice, Polly.

You stick
to the fashion columns.

You meet a better class
of person there, you know?

Mutton and boiled for me,
please, miss.

Besides, you do it so well,
Pol --

all that
about Lady Thingummy's hat

and Miss What-You-May-Call-lts
sunshade.

Not to mention
a rather neat little sally

from the Bishop of Madagascar.

Very well, Sergeant Frobisher,
have your laugh out.

Don't you want any pudding, Pol?

No, thank you, Sergeant,
and neither do you.

Ah, I thought perhaps
a treacle tart.

Very bad for your concentration.

I mean,
a fella could never catch

all that clever detail, Pol,

not the way you do it.

If you want my opinion,

the Echo's very lucky to have
a girl like you on its staff.

Now, what we really need
is a firsthand account...

Look here, Pol.
There's a matinee tomorrow.

...from someone
who was working on the spot...

It's at the Palace Theatre.

...presumably in touch
with the police...

It's with Maud Allan.

...but who concentrates
on the facts.

Polly, I wondered if you'd care
to go with me.

Oh, of course I would, Richard.
Now, when do you go on duty?

Oh, not until 6:00.

That leaves us plenty of time
for the matinee,

and then I thought afterwards
we could --

Oh, bother the matinee.

When do you go on duty
at the mortuary?

The mortuary.
Polly.

6:00 in the evening.

That will suit me very well.

I want to be able to tell
my readers

exactly what she looks like,
every article of her dress.

They don't want to know
all that.

Oh, of course they do, Richard.

They want to know what perfume
she uses, how she did her hair.

Well, steady on, so far,
we don't even know her name.

In that case,
Sergeant Frobisher,

perhaps the Echo might be able
to help you find out.

Oh, bother!

One of my afternoons
with Uncle Arthur.

Then you'll never get away.

Oh, but tomorrow, after the
matinee, you could come along --

Oh, I shall simply
have to insist.

You know what he's like.

- I have an idea.
-Richard.

By the way, does he still eat
monkey-nuts?

ARTHUR: "Furthermore, inasmuch
as your unfortunate client

has not only placed himself

fundamentally on the wrong side
of the law --"

Oh, double "I" before the
if you please, Polly.

"But has demonstrably
been driven and driven hard

by blind and reckless greed."

BURTON: Is that a full stop,
Uncle Arthur?

Certainly not.

And, Polly, while it may be true

that I allowed your mother
shamelessly to prevail upon me

to employee you
as my amanuensis,

it is scarcely necessary for you
to remind me of our relationship

each time you address me.

BURTON:
But, Uncle, I don't.

But me no "buts"
and uncle me no "Uncles."

Ah!

[Sighs]

Mmm.

Now, where was I?

"Driven hard by blind
and reckless greed."

ARTHUR:
Precisely.

Never forget, Polly,
that in 9 cases out of 10,

the key to any crime is money.

Try to remember that,

if you forget everything else
I try to teach you.

"Cui bono" -- isn't that
the expression, Sir Arthur --

"Who stands to gain?"

Precisely what we have here
are tricks

to make it appear
a crime of passion,

heartbreak
for the dying mother --

all utter bunkum!

What they were after
was the money!

Am I right?

Beyond question, Sir Arthur.

Mm.

Well, we must hope
that this letter

frightens old Richardson enough.

We haven't a hope of proving
a word of it in court.

[Sighs]

But surely, if you know
that someone is guilty --

Worthless, my dear Polly.

The law isn't interested
in what we know,

but in what we can prove.

You mean a guilty person
might go free?

If nothing can be proven,
of course.

How else can the law work?

Oh, there must be witnesses.

Witnesses can disappear
or simply not come forward.

Because they're afraid?

Sometimes.

If a murderer knew
you had evidence against him,

would not you be afraid, Polly?

BURTON:
Hmm, certainly not.

I intend to report the truth
to my readers

exactly as the police find it.

Very laudable, my dear.

Ah!

Oriental wine gums --

safely hidden
from Mrs. Judson's mop

by Hallway's "Laws of England,
Volume Twelve."

MAN: Underground mystery!
Who's the lovely lady?

ARTHUR: Absolutely bedlam
in the chambers

since they built that viaduct.

They brought the lady in
last night, you know.

There's been quite a crowd
to view her body all day.

Ghouls, my dear Polly, ghouls.

The phenomenon of human nature

at once deeply rooted
and deeply to be deplored.

The secret of success in
the legal profession, you see,

is a knowledge of psychology.

MAN: Underground mystery!
Who's the lovely lady?

Read the whole story!

Oh, I know, Sir Arthur,

but they do say
that she's the loveliest corpse

that Holborn has ever seen.

MAN: Underground mystery!
Who's the lovely lady?

[Hooves clopping]

Could you help us, please?

My sister has disappeared.

And I thought just possibly --

MAN: You'd like to view
the lady found on the railway.

Yes, if you'll just sign
your name, sir, in the register.

[Clears throat]

Good evening.

Is Sergeant Frobisher --

You're Miss Burton, is it?

Yeah, straight through
that door.

Thank you.

Was yesterday the 12th?

BURTON:
The 13th.

Oh, hello, Polly.

Have you had a look at her,
then?

Yes, I have.

Come sit down.

There must be somebody --

FROBISHER:
There must be somebody

who could tell us
who she was, yes.

You might think so,
mightn't you?

Thank you, Constable.

70, 80 people walked through
there today and gaped at her.

You might think one of them

would be able to tell us
her name.

Are those her belongings?

FROBISHER:
Oh, yes.

Have a look for yourself, Pol.

We could do
with an inspired womanly guess.

Less of the "womanly,"
Sergeant Frobisher,

unless you fancy an inspired
clout round the head.

I see.

Had a trying afternoon, have we?

Ah, gloves from Hepton's,

shoes from Lilly's
of Bond Street.

That man is insufferable,
if you really want to know.

All very tasteful and expensive.

What was in her handbag?

What? Oh, very little
of much use to us --

smelling salts, loose change,
ticket to Aldersgate.

[ Sniffs ]
Peppermint.

What do you think these are?

Probably simple cachous.

The analyst has taken a sample,
just in case.

In case she took poison --
is that the theory?

There were no signs
of a struggle.

[ sniffs 1

Lily of the valley.
Her own, I take it.

And this is
a man's handkerchief.

Perhaps she borrowed it.

From her husband.
I wonder why.

Initials.

Look. "F.E."

Could your men have missed that?

MAN:
Better go out there, Sergeant.

A young gentleman
has just collapsed.

He seems to have recognized
the lady.

Oh, beg your pardon, sir.

- Who's he?
-Don't know, sir.

What happened?

STANLEY:
I am Laura Stanley.

Miss Stanley.

The dead woman is my sister,
Beatrice.

Chair, Thornton.

Please sit down, Miss Stanley.

You're certain?

I'm sure.

This is Mr. William Hazeldene.

He is my sister's husband.

Hazeldene?

William has been in France
on business.

We live in the same house,

so naturally I was troubled

when Beatrice did not return
from her shopping expedition.

FROBISHER:
This was last night, the 13th?

Yes. And then I saw the
announcement in the newspaper.

HAZELDENE:
It was the cape,

the mention of a sable cape
lined with blue.

FROBISHER: Mr. Hazeldene
returned from France

this evening?

The boat train was late,
you see.

I was very worried because --

We were going to the opera
tonight, my wife and I.

They're giving "Tristan..."

I'm sorry.

I met William at Victoria
and showed him the newspaper.

We agreed the best thing to do

was to come and see
for ourselves.

I think the inquest
will be time enough

for further questions,
Mr. Hazeldene.

Naturally, we do not wish
to add to your distress.

But I must ask you to step over
and formally identify your wife.

Yes.
Yes, of course, Sergeant.

I cannot grasp it yet.

I cannot fully understand it.

Yes, that is my wife.

Miss Stanley, why did you
not come here earlier?

Was it because
you were not sure?

I simply lacked the courage.

Ah.

What is it, miss?

Frank Errington.

[ Doors close]

[ Exhales sharply]

I thought I caught a glimpse
of Frank Errington.

Please excuse us.

FROBISHER:
Certainly.

Come, William.

Frank Errington.

F.E.

And how long have you been
married, Mr. Hazeldene?

HAZELDENE:
More than six years, sir.

Six years.

And how many children
do you have?

We have no children.

That must have been distressing
for both of you.

Indeed, we'd --
I'd always hoped for a child.

And your wife?

She also hoped?

She would have been pleased,
naturally.

However,
her health was uncertain.

I see.

In what way uncertain,
Mr. Hazeldene?

Her heart was never strong.

And a few weeks ago --

CORONER: She had a severe bout
of influenza, did she not?

HAZELDENE:
She was ill, certainly.

As to "severe" --

You would not consider it
serious, then?

HAZELDENE: Dr. Jones gave
his assurance --

Well, no doubt, her physician
will tell us more about that

in a moment.

Good morning, Sergeant.

CORONER:
But had you any reason...

Does Sir Arthur know
you're here?

I'm in bed with inflamed tonsils
and a temperature.

Nothing catching, I hope.

And would you describe your
marriage as, on the whole,

a happy one, Mr. Hazeldene?

Most happy, sir.

I'm wondering, you see,
whether you had any reason,

however slight,

to suspect she might make
an attempt on her own life.

I have -- I cannot think
of such a thing unless...

You see, Beatrice was always
the most vivacious --

She found life tremendous fun.

She had so much laughter in her.

But lately, it sometimes seemed
to Laura -- to her sister --

but also to me that --
that she'd lost --

But it's my own fault.

I got my partnership
this last year.

Sometimes I have to be away
from home for several days.

When I came back, I'd find her
sitting in the dark,

in the drawing room,
wrapped into herself,

brooding over something
or other.

You know of no solid grounds
for this distress?

You were not aware
of any financial difficulty,

for instance?

My wife had independent money
of her own.

She was well provided for.

And in your absence,

was there no friend
to whom she might have turned?

She had her sister, Laura,
no friend.

You were away a good deal,
it seems.

Was there any acquaintance

to whom you might have taken
some exception?

I know of no such friend.

CORONER:
Thank you, Mr. Hazeldene.

That will be all for the moment.

[ Indistinct conversations]

That man is lying to save
his wife's reputation.

Of course she had a friend --

that wild-looking fellow we saw
at the mortuary,

name of Frank Errington.

That wild-looking fellow's name
happens to be James Travis,

and he's a rather dotty
male nurse.

How do you know?

Routine check, Polly.

It seems every time
a pretty girl is brought in,

he turns up to gaze at her.

He's quite well-known.

Are you sure
that he couldn't have --

Look, he couldn't have had
anything to do with it, Polly.

He was on duty that afternoon.

CORONER: And as Mrs. Hazeldene's
personal physician,

you assisted
the district medical officer

in making
the postmortem examination?

Yes, sir, I did.

And what conclusion
did you reach?

Death was due to failure
of the heart, sir,

brought about
by the administration

of a quantity
of hydrocyanic acid.

Commonly known as prussic acid,
is it not?

In solution, sir, yes.

Peppermints.

When you say "a quantity"?

Not less than 30 grains, sir,

enough to kill
at least 2 or 3 men.

And in the lady's satchel
you found?

Traces of prussic acid,
yes, we did.

The tablets that were there?

The tablets contained
hydrated magnesium carbonate

and oil of mint, sir.

In other words,
merely a stomach remedy.

Exactly, sir.

Nevertheless,
I take it your opinion

is that the lady caused
her own death

by swallowing
this dangerous drug.

Pardon me, sir, but I never
suggested such a thing.

Not? I thought we were
to understand --

We have no idea how the drug
may have been administered,

but it was manifestly
not swallowed.

What makes you --

Well, there was not a vestige
of it in the stomach.

CORONER:
Thank you, Dr. Jones.

Are there any questions?

MAN: Bardwell and Rudge, sir,
for Mrs. Hazeldene's estate.

Dr. Jones, surely,
you must have some idea

how the substance was introduced
into Mrs. Hazeldene's body.

Well, sir, you may not find this
probable in the circumstances,

but we think
by some sort of injection.

Thank you.

And could that have been given

before Mrs. Hazeldene boarded
the train?

Definitely not.
Death in such cases

is absolutely sudden
and crushing --

a quick convulsion, perhaps,
but no more.

MAN:
Thank you, sir.

Thank you, Dr. Jones.

Could we hear Miss Laura Stanley
now?

[ Spectators murmuring ]

[ Man coughs ]

Of course it was murder,
Richard.

Polly, don't you think
we ought to wait

for the coroner's verdict
before you leap to conclusions?

Do you suppose that she could
have simply sat there

in front of half a dozen
passengers and --

What about someone
committing murder

in front of those
same passengers?

Now, the least you could do
is make a start

by looking
at that man's handkerchief.

Perhaps we ought to put
an advertisement in the Echo.

Shh!

STANLEY:
Yes, we were very close.

Beatrice
was only two years younger.

As children,
we shared everything together.

When father died --
that was almost a year ago --

Beatrice insisted I move
into her house.

And her husband was more
than kind to me there.

CORONER: And during the weeks
before your sister's death,

did you notice a change
in her demeanor?

I know that she missed Will
very much.

Oh, of course.
Of course.

Now, perhaps you would tell us
something

about the last hours
in your sister's life.

When Will was abroad, she and I
would take breakfast together

in the morning room.

We talked of her plans
for the day.

We expected him home
in a day or two,

and Beatrice
wanted to look her best.

She was being fitted
for a new gown.

They were going to the opera.

She had an appointment
with her hairdresser.

CORONER: Do you know
the address, Miss Stanley?

She goes to Hempler's
in St. Paul's churchyard.

CORONER: And at what time
did she leave home?

Not until after lunch.

She had meant to go
in the morning at first, but --

CORONER: Oh'?
And what prevented her'?

She received a visit from...

Well...
from a friend of the family.

At any rate, she decided to --

Would you tell us
the friend's name?

Yes, I could.

It was Frank Errington.

Mr. Errington.

He was a frequent visitor
at your brother-in-laws?

STANLEY: He came often enough
to Addison Row.

And how long was his visit
on this occasion?

He stayed nearly two hours.

Seems rather a lengthy visit,
wouldn't you say?

Not particularly, sir,
not for Mr. Errington.

CORONER:
Miss Stanley, am I to gather

that you do not much care
for Mr. Errington?

I have no feelings about him
one way or the other.

If my brother-in-law
wasn't worried about his visits,

then they certainly
were no concern of mine.

HAZELDENE:
Laura, for pity's sake!

So, there was nothing irregular

in the gentleman's visiting
the house

in Mr. Hazeldene's absence?

STANLEY:
Nothing whatever.

That is all I'm trying to
establish, Miss Stanley.

Any questions, gentlemen?

MAN:
If it please the court.

Miss Stanley, were you present
at Mr. Errington's interview

with Mrs. Hazeldene
that morning?

Yes, I was present.

And was anything said or done

that might have a bearing
on your sister's death?

Not to my knowledge.

And the purpose of this visit?

Mr. Errington
was going on a journey.

He had come to say goodbye.

CORONER: Was this to be
a journey of some length?

I believe
he was going to Ceylon.

CORONER:
Thank you, Miss Stanley.

You'll observe, Polly,

we are not letting the grass
grow under our feet.

Errington's address --
58 Albert Mansions.

I'm getting a warrant to search
the gentleman's apartment.

About time, too.

I want you to stay here, Polly.

Sergeant Frobisher,

you are not to obstruct
the freedom of the press.

Now, look here, Polly --

That is, if you wish me to go
with you to that matinee.

[ Indistinct conversations]

[Hooves clopping]

Thoroughly pleasant gentleman,
is Mr. Errington, sir.

Very sorry we are to see him go.

You don't expect him back, then?

Very sorry, indeed.

Is he moving out for good?

Could always give you a good tip
on the horses,

could Mr. Errington.

I will say that for him.

Wasn't it a bit sudden of him

to rush off to Ceylon
at this particular moment?

Ah, now you have hit the nail
on the head, young lady,

and no mistake.

And there's plenty of us who
sympathize with his decision,

and let me tell you.

Oh, really?

He has plenty of friends,
has Mr. Errington,

as you'll soon see.

Lady friends, as well,
would you say?

Never a one, sir.
That's my gospel belief.

Well, never one to give
any trouble, anyway...

until she came along.

Come on.
This way.

[ Lock rattling]

Just have a look in the other
rooms, would you, Thornton?

Then again, a very knowledgeable
man, he was --

knowed something about all kinds
of things you'd never expect --

animal, vegetable, or mineral.

So, she gave him
a lot of trouble, did she?

Would not leave him alone, sir,
not at any price.

Always running after him,
hollering at him,

sobbing she couldn't go on
without him.

BURTON:
You know, you're quite right

about his general knowledge.

MAN: You could hear it
right down in my basement,

and that's a sodding fact.

BURTON: You know, there's
a whole section here, Richard,

on music, operas, plays,

and then this lot
seems to be historical

and these seem to be scientist-

MAN: She was a married woman,
too, you know.

Never even troubled
to take off her ring.

Scandalous if you was to ask me,
sir.

I wouldn't stir out
of my cubicle in the nighttime

to let that one out.

Do you happen to know her name?

Oh, well, I've got my brass work
to polish.

Let me know when you're off,
and I'll lock up.

[Clears throat]

Was this the woman?

-[ Whispering ] Richard!
-Oh.

-[ Coins clinking]
-Here you are.

Would not leave him alone, sir.

FROBISHER: Obviously,
Errington got tired of her.

BURTON:
Hmm.

Why should he want to kill her?

FROBISHER:
Why not just for the wickedness?

Richard, come and look at these.

Look -- "The New Science of
Toxicology," three volumes,

"The Usages of Venomation,
Civil and Barbaric,"

two volumes...

MAN:
Come and have a look, sir.

..."The Point Envenomed Too --
A History of Poisons."

MAN: There's hydrochloric, sir,
nitric, sulfuric --

enough to launch
a Chemist's shop.

FROBISHER:
Carry on, Hobbs.

Over here.

Have a sniff, Pol.

[ sniffs 1

Bitter almonds.

Isn't it rather peculiar of him

to leave all this stuff
lying around?

This man enjoys taking risks,
Polly.

After all, did he not choose
to kill her on a railway train

in the middle of the afternoon?

Come on, Thornton.

He could have reached Marseilles
by now. Hobbs?

Richard, do you realize

I have the best newspaper story
in London?

And you're not printing
one word of it, Polly,

until we have Frank Errington
behind bars.

Sorry.

Ah!

Oh, Uncle Arthur,
I must tell you!

We have solved
the underground railway case!

ARTHUR:
Have you, indeed?

Well, that is to say

that Sergeant Frobisher is
well on the way to solving it.

ARTHUR: Polly, there is
an important client waiting.

We've got an urgent new case
on hand.

We've 101 things to do,
and you're 14 minutes late.

Oh, Uncle Arthur,
please do sit down and listen.

We have been
to Errington's apartments.

The porter there tells us

that he was carrying on
an affair with a married lady,

and we found
a picture of her there, too.

Next -- what do you say to
this -- in Errington's bathroom,

we find shelves
full of acids and poisons.

An interesting chain
of circumstance.

Pure theory, of course,
but interesting.

Well, Sergeant Frobisher thinks

it will put a rope
around the man's neck.

All we have to do
is catch up with him.

This evening, they are to
telegraph every port in Europe.

ARTHUR:
Let us hope the good sergeant

is not spending
the taxpayers' money in vain.

This eloquent porter, Polly,

would you say he's
an utterly dependable source?

Well, he is rather an oddity.

Mm. You have, no doubt,
a really solid witness,

one who -- a passenger,
for instance,

who witnessed the tragedy?

Well, if there were
any such passengers,

they seem in no hurry
to come forward.

I see, and this poison store
you have discovered --

people use such materials
for many reasons, do they not,

whether as photographers,
gardeners, entomologists?

Yes, but this man has
a whole library on poisons.

Ah, he has?
Now, that is of interest.

In that case, you will have
no doubt discovered

how the poison was administered.

Oh, well -- well, at the moment,
we're not quite sure.

Then you will allow me
to enlighten you --

by the simplest means, my dear,
one known to every scoundrel

in southern Europe --

by means of a poison ring,
like this.

Oh, but, Uncle,
where did you get this?

I went to look at your lovely
lady this afternoon.

- You did?
-ARTHUR: Mm-hmm.

But why?

I found a small mark
just above her left wrist,

apparently unnoticed
by the police surgeon.

It was made by something like
that ring.

BURTON:
Oh, but I don't see --

Oh.

What has it to do with you,
Sir Arthur?

ARTHUR:
I've had to be busy.

I told you I've got
an urgent new case on hand.

You tell me Sergeant Frobisher

is scouring Europe
for Frank Errington.

Allow me to present him to you.

Mr. Errington,
my niece, Miss Burton.

My dear Mr. Errington
read the morning papers

as he was about to embark
at Southampton.

He was at once convinced
he would be arrested,

and so he returned to London

and very wisely placed himself
in my hands.

How do you do?

Sir Arthur, you're not going
to take this case, are you?

Most certainly.

I've every intention
of representing Mr. Errington,

if necessary
at the Old Bailey itself.

Now, my dear, would you,
like the good girl you are,

kindly make us
a nice cup of tea?

MAN: ...Mr. Hazeldene,
to your wife's receiving visits

from the prisoner at the bar?

Mr. Errington was one of
Beatrice's friends, yes,

and as such,
he did visit our house.

Frequently, would you say?

He came fairly often.

And staying late.

Upon occasion.

You knew that, in your absence,

he escorted your wife
to the theater and elsewhere?

He did.

You must speak up, sir,
if you please.

I knew that he did.

What were your feelings
on these occasions, sir?

I was happy if my wife
could go out sometimes.

Your maid, Emma Watson,
has testified

that you were often downcast
and depressed

on discovering
such expeditions had occurred.

I think that is
a servant's exaggeration.

With some truth in it, perhaps?

I think not.

I put it to you, Mr. Hazeldene,

that you were jealous of
your wife, as who would not be?

You resented this man
squiring her here and there.

Certainly not.

I did not myself care
particularly for the gentleman,

but I did not think
it was for me

to criticize my wife's friends.

Thank you, Mr. Hazeldene.

Sir Arthur, do you...

No, thank you, my lord.

You may step down.

Ah, Polly.

I trust your efforts at research
were fruitful.

MAN:
Call Miss Laura Stanley.

Call Miss Laura Stanley!

Curiously strong peppermints,
coconut tines,

treacle toffees,
and old-fashioned humbugs.

Sir Arthur, I have something
very important to tell you.

Not now, Polly.

- I managed to find out --
-Shh!

So that, when Errington called

on that last morning
of your sister's life,

you were present.

I was there, yes.

And heard him tell her that he
was leaving for Ceylon at once?

Indeed.

And how did this news
affect your sister?

STANLEY: Well, she warned him
if he persisted in going,

she would cause him
to regret it.

Now, Miss Stanley,
I ask you to be most careful.

Are you certain
those were her words?

She spoke very low, but, yes.

She was not looking at him,

but at a picture that hangs
in the morning room,

a copy of Mr. Ford Madox Brown's
painting "The Last of England."

Perhaps you know it.

It is a picture
of a young man and woman

sailing away together
to a new continent, is it not?

Yes, it is.

And what do you think
was in your sister's mind

as she was looking
at the picture, Miss Stanley?

-[ Clears throat]
-I will withdraw that question.

She wanted him to take her
with him.

ARTHUR:
My lord!

No further questions.

Jury will disregard both the
final question and its answer.

Sir Arthur?

ARTHUR:
Miss Stanley, you tell us

your sister warned Mr. Errington
against leaving the country.

Yes, that is right.

What could she have possibly
meant by that?

She had loaned him
a good deal of money.

I took it she meant to insist
on being repaid.

In other words, it was a threat.

- I would say so.
-I see.

And then did this Mr. Errington
turn on her,

did he cry out
he would murder her

if she dared to threaten him,
or what?

Oh, my lord, I do protest
against these histrionics.

You must restrain your flights
of fancy, Sir Arthur.

Indeed, my lord.

What, Miss Stanley,
was Mr. Errington's reaction?

He didn't say anything.

He just bowed
and left the house.

Did he look furiously angry?

He was taken aback a little,
I think.

Well, as you must have been,
yourself,

by your sister's vehemence.

L...

Well, after all, to mutter
threats at an old friend...

-it was quite --
-...with her back to him...

-it was quite out --
-...looking at a picture.

It was quite
out of her character.

And must have made
a strong impression upon you.

Yes. Yes, I suppose
I was quite alarmed.

Indeed.

And yet, only 48 hours later,
you were asked at the inquest

to think carefully whether
or not anything had happened

at that interview

which might be of importance,
and you replied, "Nothing.

To the best of my knowledge,
nothing whatever."

Well, naturally,
it never occurred to me that --

ARTHUR:
What?

That Mr. Errington
could be capable of murder?

Never, but --

In fact, it was altogether
against his character,

was it not?

- Yes, but I --
-No further questions, my lord.

- But --
-The witness may answer.

I was only going to say

that I did not know
about his interest in poisons.

One moment, my lord!

Could we examine exhibit 5,
I think it is,

the volume on poisons?

Miss Stanley, I do thank you
for reminding me.

"The New Science of Toxicology."

Miss Stanley,
do you know this work?

Yes.

"Barbaric and Civil Usages."

[ Chuckles ]

There are penciled initials
on the flyleaf -- G.L.S.

Do you know whose they are?

May I see the book?

By all means.

Well, Miss Stanley?

This was
one of my father's books.

In fact, several of them
are his, Miss Stanley.

I had no idea.

Nor of how they came
into Mr. Errington's hands?

None.

And yet, much has been made

of Mr. Errington's interest
in poisons,

even though, to my mind,

his explanation of those items
is more than satisfactory.

He is a geologist.

Is it not for that very pursuit
he was visiting Ceylon?

MAN:
My lord, really.

You must not make speeches,
Sir Arthur,

as you know perfectly well.

Your lordship is, as always,
my tutor.

No further questions, my lord.

Call Mr. Andrew Campbell.

Call Mr. Andrew Campbell!

Who the devil?

It seems this witness has just
come forward, Sir Arthur.

But I know of no such --

This is your solid witness.

He was on the train.

MAN: What position do you hold,
Mr. Campbell?

CAMPBELL: I am managing director
of Campbell and Swanson,

of Mincing Lane.

MAN:
And your company's function?

We consider ourselves
the stockbroker's broker.

And just so.

Now, on the afternoon
of Tuesday, March 13th,

were you in a first-class
compartment of a train

on the Metropolitan Railway?

Yes, sir, I was.

Was Beatrice Hazeldene
a passenger

in that same compartment,
Mr. Campbell?

Yes, sir.

I believe I must have witnessed
the whole affair.

Oh, I must get a message
to the -- to the Echo.

You're not sitting
in the press seats, Polly.

You're here as my assistant.

- Oh, but, Sir Arthur, please.
-Sit down, Polly.

[ Bag rustling]

Have some treacle toffee.

You were aware
of Mrs. Hazeldene, you say.

Was she alone?

She was undoubtedly alone
when she boarded the train,

but just as we were pulling out,
a man got into the carriage.

She seemed to know him well.

They talked and laughed a little
as the train moved on.

Well, could you describe
this man for us?

Certainly.

He was of medium height,

neither fair
nor particularly dark.

He wore a tweed suit
and a bowler hat.

Mr. Campbell,
would you know him again?

Beyond question.

He is that man in the dock.

FROBISHER:
Feel quite sorry for Sir Arthur.

It's not like him
to back a loser, is it?

Of course, we still have to hear
his cross-examination.

[ Exhales ]

Though from the way
he flung out of court --

FROBISHER:
It's open and shut, Polly.

Your man provided the means.

The sister provided the motive.

Mm.

She did, didn't She?

Your dinner's getting cold,
Polly.

Richard, you don't think
that she could --

Besides, we've heard Errington.

He doesn't offer the trace
of an alibi.

He just says he left the house

and wandered
around Kensington Park.

Nobody saw him.

Nobody knows positively
where he was for hours.

True enough.
But still --

Then again, look at the clues.

Richard, don't you think
there are too many clues?

I mean, pots of poison,
a handkerchief,

books, a photograph.

If he is guilty,

he must be the most careless
criminal there ever was.

ARTHUR:
Precisely, Polly.

I'm glad you see it at last.

Sergeant Frobisher,
do you think it seemly

for a prosecution witness
to be lunching

with assistant counsel
for the defense?

I'm just a policeman,
Sir Arthur,

behaving helpfully
to a gentleman of the press.

Then be so good as to fetch me
a cup of coffee.

Oh.

Very well, sir.

And while you're up,

perhaps just the smallest
portion of baked jam roll.

Now, Polly, my clerk
has procured this

from Cover“ Garden.

It's an advertisement
for the current season.

Could you use your young eyes

to tell me what piece was given
on the 14th of March?

On the 14th of March.

It's a Wednesday.

There was no performance
that night.

Indeed! Now, that is
of interest, is it not?

[Chuckles] Now, if only
this could be delivered.

Oh, I shall take care of it,
of course.

That is kind, my niece,

but I don't think
I could ask that of you.

Sir Arthur, if I am to help
Mr. Errington in any way at all,

I think you should trust me to.

Even if it were to bring you
face-to-face

with the real murderer?

Consider, Polly.

You mean I might actually get
an interview?

Possibly a very dangerous
interview.

Never mind that.

Just give me the envelope.

Ah! Thank you, sir.

Well, Sir Arthur,
it'll be interesting

to see how you refute
this latest witness.

Ah, yes,
the stockbroker's broker.

Mmm!

Mmm! Mmm!

We are all deeply indebted
to you, Mr. Campbell,

for having come forward,
even at this 11th hour,

to tell us
of that astonishing journey

on the underground railway.

To have in court a witness
to the act of murder --

that is indeed a privilege
given to few of us

in this imperfect world.

You are to be congratulated.

Not at all.

Mr. Campbell, you have described
to us with care

the impression made upon you
by this exquisite woman.

Make us richer still.

Give us some idea
what she was wearing.

- Wearing, sir?
-Yes, wearing.

Oh, I am no connoisseur
of frills.

Give just a hint
as to her style of dress.

The color, for example.

She wore green
for the most part.

Forest dark, rich and heavy, or
paler than grass, light as air?

Velvet, it would be,
and a heavy velvet hat.

With plumes or without?

Yes, plumes,
one of those bird hats.

A cape -- dolman or pelisse,

Eastern or Western
in inspiration?

Oh, a long wrap of some kind.

- Still in green?
-Yes, bright green.

A tunic? A suiting?

Could you see the lady's neck?
A blouse?

No, I could not.

- Jewelry?
-Yes.

Ah.

A rather beautiful pendant,
some bracelets.

So, on that terrible day --

Could we see exhibit 15,
please? --

Mrs. Hazeldene was wearing,
you vividly remember,

a dark-green velvet dress
with jewelry and a plumed hat.

That was it, yes.

My lord, with your permission,

these are the very clothes

the lady was actually wearing
on that occasion.

[ Spectators murmuring ]

Do you still see this as green,
Mr. Campbell?

CAMPBELL:
Not in this light, I admit.

ARTHUR: Is this hat in this,
or any other, light

a heavy velvet hat with plumes?

CAMPBELL:
It must have been the brooch.

ARTHUR: That you mistook
for the hat, perhaps,

or that appeared to be a pendant
and a few bracelets?

I told you I am no connoisseur.

It was, by no means,
that easy to distinguish the --

No, no, please continue.

It was very smoky, you know,
and I was reading my newspaper.

Frankly, I do not gaup
at people in trains like --

like some Peeping Tom.

Yet you gauped at Mr. Errington,
it seems.

You peeped at the prisoner,
did you not?

And yet the lady
sitting opposite you

was not easy to see
in the smoke.

You were not able to recollect
a single article of her attire,

and yet you dare swear,
under your oath,

that the man sitting
to your right --

and therefore only seen
out of the corner of your eye,

and in the same dark
and smoke --

is none other than the man
before you in the dock!

I ask you again, Mr. Campbell
of Campbell and Swanson,

can you be certain
upon your oath?

It looked like him.

The newspaper said --

ARTHUR: The newspaper said
a man had been apprehended.

And you assumed it must have
been the man you saw.

Perhaps.

I -- I'm not certain.

ARTHUR:
Thank you, Mr. Campbell.

JUDGE:
The witness is excused.

My lord, even as
my learned friends saw fit

to spring upon us
this last witness,

so I, may it please the court,
have prepared a small surprise.

This envelope contains
an essential piece of evidence.

But it is late already.

Perhaps an adjournment
may be in order

so that the prosecution
may not be, as I was,

met with ground
quite unprepared.

JUDGE: I will gladly adjourn the
court until tomorrow morning.

[ Indistinct conversations]

[Thunder rumbling]

Poor old Campbell.

He was only trying to tell us
what he saw.

BURTON:
Thought he saw.

There is such a thing as being
too certain, isn't there?

Still,
even without his evidence,

we still have a pretty
strong case, don't you think?

Oh. Thank you, Richard,
for coming this far.

I must write up my notes
as soon as I get home.

You might care to know
that whichever way it goes,

I still get
my inspector's course.

Oh.
Oh, you deserve it, Richard.

I am happy for you.

Yes, w--

Look, look, Polly, are you sure

you don't want me to come
with you on the train?

No, thank you, Sergeant.
I can take care of myself.

Are you sure, Polly?

I know
what I wanted to tell you.

They liked my story on the Echo.

On Monday, I start a trial
assignment to the crime column.

Does that mean we'll be seeing
more of each other?

Well, I hope so.
Ah! Don't wait.

Goodbye, Richard.

FROBISHER:
Now, look here, Polly, I --

Good night.

[Whistle blows]

Oh.

What are you doing here?

Miss Burton, is it not,

assistant to the redoubtable
Sir Arthur.

This is my usual journey home
to West Kensington.

I had the impression that you
left the Old Bailey in a hansom

with your sister.

Indeed, we did.

But I dropped off.

I trust Sir Arthur
noticed the cab, also.

I must say,
I found his presentation

of poor Frank's case
quite astonishing.

His cross-examination,
in particular,

is quite lethal, is it not?

Sir Arthur certainly knows
how to demolish a lie.

One must never underestimate
a clever lawyer.

I must say,
if I were ever in the dark...

[Train whistle blowing]

It makes one rather curious

as to the rabbit he's to pull
out of tomorrow's hat.

Errington's complicity seems
clear enough on the face of it.

Not entirely ethical, I suppose,

but...

Opera tickets?

Your servant recovered them
from the wastepaper basket.

Unluckily, Mr. Hazeldene,

there was no performance
the night you returned home.

Your tickets were
for the previous night.

And Mr. Campbell remembered
that passenger saying,

"Don't be late this evening."

It could have only been you,
couldn't it?

You killed your own wife.

How could you?

She was an ill woman,
Miss Burton.

The postmortem was bungled.

It could only have been
a matter of months.

Then I would have come
into her property.

Cui bono --
Who stands to gain?

HAZELDENE:
I beg your pardon?

An expression of Sir Arthur's.

It was Beatrice's father who set
you up in business, wasn't it?

Yes. I was a shipping clerk
when I met her.

I didn't have a penny.

I see.

And your company
got into difficulties?

Yes.

Surely, you could have asked
your wife.

Beatrice had little faith
in my business acumen.

[Train whistle blows]

I see.

And her sister?

Ah, Laura.
She understands me.

Enough to lie for you,
apparently.

She told the police
that you arrived home --

Such a waste, really,
lending Frank those books.

That you arrived home
the following night.

Studying his build, carriage,

so as to suggest to a stranger
that --

But Sir Arthur has rather dented
that alibi of mine.

I have to find another.

You must see that, Miss Burton.

It's no use threatening me,
you know.

Sir Arthur guesses the truth.

But without these,
will not be able to prove it.

Besides, when another body
is discovered on the railway,

would it not seem that a new
Jack the Ripper is abroad?

Once more,

attention will be diverted
from the bereaved widower,

at least until I can claim
my inheritance

and set my affairs in order.

You'll feel nothing,
Miss Burton.

My poor Beatrice suffered
not at all.

I do promise you that.

Now, if you'll simply give me
your hand --

[Train whistle blowing]

[ Brakes squeal]

FROBISHER: Polly!
For God's sake!

ARTHUR:
Where the devil is the girl?!

Oh, here she is.

First-rate, isn't it?
[ Laughs ]

Exactly as I conceived it
on the basis of my hypothesis.

Sir Arthur,
if you will stand aside,

my men can attend to their work.

Yeah, he's quite dead.
Of course.

[Voice breaking]
Oh, Richard!

[ Crying 1

Sir Arthur, did you know

that man might attempt
to Kill Polly?

To know is one thing, but to be
able to prove it, Sergeant...

[ Laughs 1

Besides,
she's a resourceful girl.

I ought to put you under arrest.

Oh, Sergeant.

About your proposal
earlier this evening.

About my what?

ARTHUR: One cannot help admiring
the cheek of the man,

don't you agree?

Oh, of course,
it helped him no end.

Errington tried to leave
the country.

As I've always said, Polly,

a knowledge of basic
human behavior is essential,

indispensable,
to the legal mind.