Sherlock Holmes (2013–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Kamen, Nozhnitsy, Bumaga - full transcript
Sherlock Holmes, given his unique abilities,
could easily have led a financially comfortable life.
But Holmes treated money rather strangely.
He would charge extraordinary sums from certain clients,
but refuse to take a single penny from others who clearly had the means.
I could not understand the logic of this strange commerce, until I asked him personally.
"My mind rebels at stagnation," he said. "But there are certain cases that bring me absolute joy.
These cases—these problems—test my brain, and challenge my observation and my method. They enlighten me.
How can I take money for the joy of science?
I am prepared to pay for these cases myself."
This was the commercial logic of Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock Holmes
Mr. Calloway!
I'm here.
Mr. Calloway, where are you?
Over here.
Where?
Chapter Four: The Mistresses of Lord Moulbrey
Well, the beginning is intriguing,
but lacks... spice.
This isn’t a cooking recipe.
And it lacks humour as well.
It's all spooky and dry somehow,
there's no life in there.
But this is a true story.
Yes, but listen, this detective,
such a thing doesn’t exist... not a single reader will believe it, for God’s sake.
Fine.
It's not fine.
Listen, there’s no need to start over and create something new.
- Just write like Stevenson- - Like Stevenson! - but fresher.
Like Stevenson?
- Well, I won't be able to write like Stevenson. - Just try.
Try and you will.
Listen, listen,
you're acting like a... I don't know... like Byron!
Except the only real similarity is that you’re both invalids.
Yes, this is my final answer.
But Martha...
I'm not Martha to you anymore. Goodbye.
I said get out!
- Ah, sorry, Mrs. Hudson... - Ah, Doctor.
Can I... well, let’s just say...
- you know, it’s beautiful weather, isn't it? - Horrible!
Venus in the sign of Mars, it will be wet.
You know, somehow, after Afghanistan,
I’ve grown fonder of Mother England, with her
- rain, and her... - Tea will be in one hour.
...humidity.
Forgive me, but I must ask a tactless question...
Who was that man in the chequered gaiters?
O'Shaughnessy.
He has a cattle ranch in Scotland, and four grown daughters.
He's a widower and we have both just parted ways.
What a pity.
I mean, I'm so sorry, uh, you understand,
- well, I have no right to ask this question and I won't ask you this question— - What question?
- What was— - I don't like the smell of cowsheds, or having to put up with rivalries from other women.
Quite right.
Uh, I-
My God, I'm sorry, I’m so sorry, I—
What are you sorry for?
What?
The vase.
The vase.
But... forgive me! I...
Let- let me- let me help,
let me,
- I... I'll h... let me, I beg of you... - Please—
- Mr. Watson! - I- I'll... I'll buy you a new one—
Please excuse me,
the door was open.
Could I see Mr. Sherlock Holmes?
All right, but why do you think you will be the fifth victim, Miss...?
Baker. Elizabeth Baker.
As I said, Mr. Holmes, this is not the first day this man has followed me, plus
his appearance matches the description in the newspapers.
He's short,
chunky, about 30-35,
and today when I was collecting my clothes from the laundry, I found this.
"Dear Elizabeth, you are the best thing that my life has. I ask you for a date.
There is no need to rush your refusal, you will have time to say no.
You are young, beautiful, but not well-to-do. I, however, am experienced, consistent, and unmarried.
I will wait for you on Friday at 10 o'clock in the evening near the entrance to Spitalfields."
No signature.
Well, Mr. and Mrs. Baker. Everything is up to you now.
I don't even know what to say, Mr. Holmes.
Perhaps we could call the police?
I think that might be a good idea.
Terrible idea.
The sight of a constable on the porch
will no doubt frighten the man away
and the matter will appear to be resolved,
but it won't last.
He will return.
But no sensible parent could allow his child
to be used as bait for a murderer, Mr. Holmes.
I understand.
May I?
That's one side of the matter,
but on the other hand,
on the other hand, it's worse.
It’s worse to have to live under constant fear and unrest.
What’s the point in delaying the inevitable?
- Linda! - Henry!
Well, all right. Only if you guarantee her safety,
gentlemen.
But! My daughter
must not have any negative experience.
I promise you that the worst
will not eventuate.
What do you say, Watson?
Of course.
Wait, wait,
it's not him,
it's a port wench and her client.
This one is ours.
Damn it, Doctor, let him do his business,
or we won't have any evidence.
- What was that? - Wait!
Hold this!
Careful, careful, let me...
Shh, shh, shh...
Gentlemen, silence in the hall! Order!
All rise!
The court will now deliver its verdict.
Henry Thomas Calloway,
the court finds you guilty and sentences you to death by hanging.
The verdict is final and not appealable and should be enforced during the day.
Read the Chronicle! Henry Thomas Calloway, four-time murderer, has been sentenced to hang!
The fifth victim has given her testimony! London can sleep better!
It’s strange, but somehow I pity this man.
Almost all criminals seem like children before the courtroom, especially at the moment of a death sentence.
Believe me, Watson, I’ve seen many such transformations
in the wake of a guilty verdict.
Mr. Holmes!
Mr. Holmes, I don't even know how to thank you.
You and your friend,
- if not for you, I wouldn't— - No need.
I’m still incredibly grateful to you, Mr. Holmes.
Miss Baker, please send our greetings to your parents, Mr. Holmes and I
will certainly call upon you again soon.
We shall be happy to see you.
Goodbye.
Doctor, have you been writing?
Why do you say I’ve been writing?
Your hand is covered with ink.
So, today I read in the paper about this murderer, Calloway.
He looks like a true Capricorn.
Good thing he will finally be hanged.
These gentlemen from Scotland Yard
are actually quite effective when they want to do their job.
Too bad they rarely want to do so.
But I find it strange
that the newspaper didn't have
a portrait of this lady, Elizabeth Baker.
Poor thing suffered so badly it must have affected her looks.
You, Mrs. Hudson, are a very vigilant woman.
Indeed, she’s been on my mind for the whole day.
Get ready, Watson.
Get ready, we'll eat later.
So, where are we going?
Patience, my friend, patience.
Holmes, you ask for patience,
but we're going God knows where, for God knows what reason,
at this time of night, and I haven’t even had my tea.
But I'm driving you to the tea.
You promised to visit Miss Baker.
Yes, but...
It’s barely been two days, and not to mention
we're going without any warning.
Perhaps they’ve already gone to bed.
They haven’t. My intuition tells me so.
- But then the light would be on and, I don't know.. - It would be,
if anyone actually lived there.
- Strange. - Watch the street.
Come on.
Careful, Holmes. Holmes! Holmes!
What are you looking for?
Give me a hand.
What is it?
"Lord George Stanley Moulbrey".
It's something. At least it's something.
Wait, wait, how...
How did you guess that it was there?
I didn't guess, it was a methodical search.
We got lucky,
I expected to take all night.
What do you think, what is this visiting card doing here?
The visiting card of the Leader of the House of Lords, George Moulbrey.
First scenario:
George Moulbrey was familiar with the Bakers and,
during a visit to this house, he accidentally dropped
this card.
Even though Bakers occupied this flat, I would say...
for no more than two weeks,
and Moulbrey died six weeks ago?
It was in all the newspapers.
Ah. But why two weeks?
The dust indicates that nobody even entered that room.
There were pictures on the wall when we visited.
Usually wallpaper fades, leaving behind dark shadows— there are none here.
Furthermore, Miss Baker's parents weren't present in court.
So what? What’s suspicious about that? Maybe they're ill, or—
If you had a daughter, John,
and her life had been threatened by some scoundrel, wouldn't you want to be there personally to see the sentence handed down?
Yes, yes, absolutely. You’re right, perfectly logical.
The people who hosted us are swindlers.
What?
And all of these...
are decorations.
To fool the two overweening idiots.
Wa- wait. So this mistake
could cost the life of that poor Calloway?
- Hold on a minute... - I think it already has.
But we could, of course, wake up the judge, just in case.
There’s no point rushing, Doctor, you can’t outrun destiny.
Holmes, I know it’s the puzzle that interests you, but what about a person’s life? Or is that just another piece of the puzzle too?
Tom Henry Calloway is so far removed from me that yes, he's just a piece of the puzzle.
Sometimes you can sound dreadfully amoral.
Morality should be the last appeal for the intellect.
Henry Thomas Calloway,
you have been found guilty for the murders of
Ann Bishop, Joyce Sundengrast, Lean Henderson, and Mary Ringwalt,
and for the attempted murder of Elizabeth Baker.
The court, comprising 12 jurors,
and Justice James Baker, under section two of the Offences Against the Person Act 1861, has sentenced you to death.
- Gentlemen, I'm- I'm an elderly man... - Careful!
- I have an awful headache... - The door.
Before you meet our Lord, my son, tell me your last wish.
Where's the head of the prison?
I'm Judge Bradshaw. These gentlemen woke me up in the middle of the night on urgent business. Where is the head?
It’s 5.30 in the morning, sir, the head is conducting the executions.
Lead me there.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Amen.
It's not him!
It's not him!
- Who are you looking for? - Henry Thomas Calloway.
Sorry, sir, he's in the next room.
The sentence will be enforced.
Wait! Stop the execution!
So, you lost at cards.
What was the sum?
Huge. Really huge, 1200 pounds. I would be better off to jump into the Thames.
Why didn't you?
Very good.
Fate sent me Mr. Bernard Buckley.
Oh, what a person he was! A fiend from Hell, the Devil incarnate!
Very literary. Where did you meet?
- With Mr. Buckley? - Yes, with your devil.
At the exit of the gaming house.
On the same evening?
Yes, Mr. Buckley offered his help.
Forgive me, but didn't it seem strange to you that a stranger would suddenly offer you his help?
When you’re in 1200 pounds of debt and you’re offered 1500...
I understand. A drowning man will not always have regard for the cleanliness of the hand that helps him.
Absolutely right! It’s precisely as you say.
Mr. Buckley asked me to follow four ladies, which I did successfully for 2 weeks...
...and he even paid half of the agreed sum, 750 pounds.
What exactly did you do?
I followed the ladies like a shadow, quietly,
and delivered information to Mr. Buckley, until these horrible events started happening
and those four unfortunate souls were killed one after another.
But surely if you were
not afraid by this point, you would have at least asked yourself why these women each
suffered such a horrible fate?
Yes, I asked him the same question and even threatened
to go to the police.
But he, of course, said that he wouldn’t give you the second half of the money,
that you had already become an accomplice in those crimes,
and that you had better keep your mouth shut.
Yes. Yes, exactly! Word for word.
Mr. Buckley showed me a newspaper with reports of the crimes
and the description of the murderer fit me down to the last inch.
The trap was sprung.
Yes.
And then I agreed to meet with the lady, Miss Elizabeth Baker.
My task was to charm her, to make her fall in love with me.
I was worried, considering I’m no Apollo, I didn’t
think that such a sweet and beautiful lady would be interested in me, but...
But suddenly she became interested.
Yes,
and then...
Mr. Calloway!
- Miss Elizabeth! - Mr. Calloway!
- Miss Elizabeth, what's wrong? - Mister-
She began to tighten her scarf on her neck, so tightly
that I— and I’m not a weak man— couldn't untie the knot.
The most important thing was that you held the ends of the knot, that way you were caught in the act.
All right, the man to whom you lost - did you know him before?
He introduced himself as Gilbert Roy.
Oh, he's a terrible man, I’m certain he’s capable of murder.
Where were you supposed to bring the money?
To his house at 12 Calverton Street.
Do you have, by any chance, the address of your employer, Bernard Buckley?
No, I'm telling you, he was the Devil incarnate,
he was always appearing from nowhere
and disappearing into nothing.
Very well, what did he look like?
A bit shorter than you by three or four inches,
about 40-45, lean, dark hair, brown eyes...
Pale? Long hands?
- Right... - Wears glasses with blue lenses?
Yes.
Remember how I told you that no criminal can scare me?
There is one exception - Moriarty.
Robert Moriarty.
He's an evil genius,
the professor of the criminal world, and believe me, Watson, he is quite worth this title.
So, what, you were describing Moriarty’s appearance just then at the prison office?
The mere murder of four girls isn’t his style, it’s far too petty.
The Professor isn’t the same as those unsophisticated murderers who kill only for their pleasure, there's...
something else. Something...
for which he had to gather an army of accomplices.
Elizabeth Baker, the fake parents, the card player Gilbert Roy.
It's clear that this honest company doesn't work for him for nothing. So why?
Money?
Do you remember Roy's address?
Gilbert Roy...
Twelve Calverton Street. You go there, I'll visit the relatives of the murdered women.
Good day, sir, are you Gilbert Roy?
What the hell do you want?
I have a letter from your debtor, Mr. Calloway.
How did you come by it?
We were in the same prison cell, well, until he was...
Give it to me.
We don't work for free, sir, a shilling first.
Thank you, Mrs. Ringwalt, you are very kind.
May I?
The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! Read the latest news!
As far as I know, Mrs. Ringwalt, all these dresses were sewn in
Francois Poulles' workshop.
And every dress has its own umbrella.
Yes, for a poor lady, your niece was very decently dressed.
I told her it wouldn't end well.
I don't know where Mary got the money for all this attire.
Damn girl got completely out of hand during her last months. My poor silly girl.
Please accept my condolences one more time, Mr. Bishop.
She was kindness itself.
Not long before her death, she gave me this pipe.
- May I? - Yes.
Yes, and a fine tobacco set, too.
Dorwood's special.
Rather expensive, by your means.
The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! Read the latest news!
Pardon me.
Thank you, sir, you've done me a great... I’m sorry, but that’s mine.
Really?
Please give the cigar back.
What next! It's my cigar, I found it.
I understand. Take this.
A sovereign, and you have a deal.
- A sovereign?! - A sovereign.
And deal.
One pound. One second.
- The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! - Thank you. - Read the latest news!
The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! Read the latest news!
Sir! Sir! Police, get him!
Stop!
Got you! Drag him to the station!
This might surprise you, Mr. Holmes,
but my late sister and I were twins.
But Joyce always had something...
something special about her.
And I was always jealous of her.
But with Joyce's death,
my jealousy has died as well.
Sometimes, Mr. Holmes, we should thank the Lord
for his miserliness.
You have a very precise hand.
And for a common lady your thoughts are very profound.
Thank you.
You asked me about anything unusual.
During her last two years, she began driving around in carriages,
buying expensive things,
and a month before her death she spent all her savings.
Well, it has an explanation.
A rich lover,
and an elderly one.
He said to her that he was going to make a will.
As far as I know, this man was one of the richest people in Britain.
Lord Moulbrey!
More than anything else in the world, Mr. Holmes,
I wanted to be present
at this scoundrel Calloway's execution.
I'm afraid, Miss Sundengrast, that Calloway's execution will not close your sister's case.
You think the case isn’t over yet?
I can't say anything to you now.
You were present at the court.
Of course, of course.
Do you remember the poor witness, Miss Baker?
Very well.
The thing is that for some unknown reasons Miss Baker's portrait was not reproduced in any newspaper reports.
You are an artist.
Of course, I... I will draw her portrait.
You are very kind.
Tell me, Mr. Kibby, did you not get enough for your silence?
I don't understand, Mr. Roy.
Do not blackmail us, Mr. Kibby.
What is this?
This is Lord Moulbrey's visiting card which you sent me by some ragamuffin.
I didn't send anything to you. You are wrong, Mr. Roy.
This ragamuffin said that the card was from Calloway,
but Calloway didn't know Lord Moulbrey,
and he didn't know anything about the will.
He didn't know anything at all, this fool Calloway.
I... you're mistaken, Mr. Roy.
God damn you, Mr. Roy, you and your Mr. Buckley and your damn girl Baker,
damn my greed, I already regret that I ever did business with you!
My advice to you, Mr. Kibby, is not to regret anything.
Otherwise, we may begin to think you have other intentions.
- Gregson! - Yes, sir. - Release Watson.
- Wilkinson! - Yes, sir. - Bring his personal belongings.
Right then, John Watson, your bail has been posted. Questions?
No questions. Here are your belongings.
Please sign this.
Holmes, you are on time, as usual.
But you've missed Gilbert Roy.
I'll explain.
There's no use for your explanations.
- I suppose not. Maybe this isn’t the one you wanted, but... - Goodbye, Doctor.
The Royal Caribbean. Moriarty.
Where did you get it?
It was thrown out of Gilbert Roy's window.
Only in the Chronicle! The latest news! Only in the Chronicle!
The will of Lord Moulbrey has disappeared!
The latest news! Only in the Chronicle! The latest news! Only in the Chronicle!
I spoke with the relatives of our dead beauties and I discovered that none of them came from much wealth at all.
During the final months before their deaths, they lived on unaffordable sums, meaning all of them had a rich lover.
A coincidence can happen once, twice, maybe even thrice, but not four and five times!
Considering the fact that Mr. Moulbrey's card was found in Miss Baker's house,
- I believe all of them had the same lover. - Moulbrey.
Exactly. Think about it:
a widower, no children, why not leave his fortune to five beautiful women who made the last years of his life brighter?
And Miss Baker?
And Miss Baker.
Miss Baker, Doctor, is an accomplice of this clever crime.
If her name is
in the will, it means she becomes the only heiress of the entire fortune, you understand?
We have to visit the notary who made the will, Robert Kibby.
Yes, the notary. He learned everything from the newspapers,
but he didn't take any action. So he's either
frightened, or being bribed.
I must ask Lestrade to put you in jail once a week
with the criminals, the thieves, all these madmen, it seems to do wonders to your intelligence.
Yes?
I would like to send this parcel.
This address, please.
Please sign here.
- Here. - Yes, thank you.
Take this.
Please.
Thank you, sir.
Thank you.
- Thank you. - Have a good day.
Buy the newspaper! Buy the newspaper!
What a surprise.
Mr. Kibby! Mr. Kibby,
if I'm not mistaken...
What happened to him?
- Murder! He's been killed! - Call a doctor!
A doctor! A doctor!
Let me.
Police, coming through.
Step back, everyone step back, do not panic.
Mr. Holmes, how are you always perfectly on time?
The liberties you take are dragging my patience to its limit!
How dare you interfere in Calloway's case?
On what basis was his execution cancelled?
On the basis that Calloway is innocent.
Calloway himself pleaded guilty,
he signed the verdict of the investigation!
After a good number of hits to his ribs.
Are you accusing me of torture?
He told you the truth,
but for some reason you didn't listen.
Calloway lied. That's it, the case is closed,
he will be hanged today.
If your agencies tell the press
that Calloway is alive, he will be dead even without you.
He will be strangled today in his prison cell.
And who will do it, if I may ask?
Moriarty.
Moriarty? Who is this Moriarty?
Holmes, he is an opium-induced delusion.
There's no such man in any police file in the world,
not according to Bertillon, nor Galton!
In general, the full picture will be revealed after the autopsy,
but we can ascertain now that cause of death was poison.
Pricked with something sharp, most likely a poisoned needle.
Right here.
Holmes, where's the murder weapon?
You can search me.
Python, arrest him.
Yes, sir.
Let me offer you a deal.
Look, if you announce to everyone that Calloway was hanged and promise that
he will stay alive until the end of my investigation,
I will share with you some valuable information.
So you said that Kibby was eliminated as an accomplice?
Only as a witness.
And where is the evidence of his connection with the criminals?
Promise that Calloway will live.
Promise that you will keep silent for at least two days.
All right, damn you, fine.
You will find the evidence in Moulbrey's will. I believe it’s in his office.
- Gregson! - Yes, sir.
Go immediately to the prosecutor and get a search warrant for Kibby's office.
Yes, sir.
Additionally, I would find out everything about that girl Elizabeth Baker, she's an accomplice for sure.
Yes, and I would also search for her fake parents at the London theatres.
- Gregson! - Yes, sir.
Still here? Did you hear that?
- Yes. - Do it. - Yes, sir.
Yes, and I would also find out everything about the past of a man called Gilbert Roy.
What Gilbert Roy?
And if I were you I would do that first.
You aren't in a place to give orders, Holmes. You are a consultant.
You're discrediting the very institution of law enforcement.
I would've put you in jail a long time ago, but you have powerful protectors.
My only protector is the truth.
And you're the last instance of it?
Why the last?
- Next to last. - That's right.
The last instance is me!
Actually, I meant the Queen.
Firstly me, then the Queen.
- Python. - Yes.
Take them off.
What are these tricks, Mr. Holmes?
I will confiscate your keys to the back door again.
Yes, but you know very well that I have a skeleton key.
I'll change the lock!
Don’t be ridiculous, skeleton keys work for any kind of lock.
Can I ask one question? Tell me, did anybody come?
Happily not, Mr. Holmes.
Nothing was brought to me?
That's a second question already.
Let's go, Doctor.
I think I'll go to bed, Holmes.
I assure you, you won't get to your bed today. Our train to Bristol departs at quarter to twelve.
Bristol?
Yes, right after the court session,
this man redeemed all the daguerreotypes and pictures of Miss Baker,
but we got lucky. An artist from Punch remembered his customer and reproduced his appearance.
My God, Holmes,
this boy was at Gilbert Roy’s residence.
That’s not just any boy,
that’s the nephew of the late Lord Moulbrey, Henry Moulbrey.
He’d fall under your area of expertise, by the way.
Suffers from heart disease, and just a meek nature overall.
Excuse me, where did you get my wallet?
While you were unsuccessfully chasing after Gilbert Roy,
Pete the Rat followed Henry
and discovered that he bought a night train ticket to Bristol.
Why does he need to go there?
Obviously to meet with the accomplice and the only witness
of this crime rolled into one - Miss Baker.
Are you sure?
Sorry, Holmes, I think I had a bit more in here.
Subtract the cost of the tickets,
that's the first thing.
Secondly...
Secondly...
histrionicotoxin!
A poison of an Australian frog.*
He doesn't have any companions.
Don't stare like that, he'll notice.
The train to Bristol is departing in 15 minutes.
- Do you have your gun? - Yes.
Hide your face.
- What are going to do? - Quiet!
Forgive me, Elizabeth.
- I'm not going to participate in such things. - You chicken! I want help from you, support!
Forgive, forgive me, my love, forgive me and farewell!
If you scream I'll stab you right between your eyes!
You... you who are you?
We're interested in your uncle's will. Do you want to share?
I see you're quite informed, but there’s one thing you don’t know. He left a miserably small part for me in his will. I'll call the police...
Then we'll kill you.
- You... you don't look like murderers. - Who looks like one? Do you look like a person who killed four innocent ladies?
- I- I- I- I didn't kill anybody... - Mary Ringwalt, Ann Bishop, Joyce Sundengrast,
- Lean Henderson. - I don't know who you're talking about. I’ll pay you if that’s what you want...
The train to Bristol is departing in 10 minutes.
A good silencer, nobody will hear the shot.
- The train to Bristol will be departing soon. - Bernard Buckley and Roy, it was them who killed these women, with help from their friends—
- Why? - The old bastard left a miserable sum for me
and divided the rest between five of his mistresses.
It's written in the will that if anyone is unable to inherit, the rest will get their share.
They killed these women so everything would end up in the hands of one person, all 450 thousand.
So who is this only heir?
Elizabeth Baker.
But they frightened her! They threatened her and said that if she won't help them they'll kill her.
- Why didn't she call the police then? - She wanted to, but...
...they said-
...they'd kill me as well.
Who are you to her?
The thing is that Elizabeth and I are lovers.
That Elizabeth!
- So she was having a romance with you and with your uncle? - Yes, but she didn't love him. It was... it was a necessary decision.
What necessary decision?
It's because of her parents' illness. The thing is that the care and medicine required are very expensive.
Have you ever seen her parents?
Yes. Yes, her father couldn't get out of bed and her mother... there was something wrong with her leg.
Do you know me?
No. No.
I'm Sherlock Holmes,
a private detective. This is Dr. Watson.
I really pity you.
Your life is in danger. You've fallen into the hands of rogues, swindlers.
Are you meeting with Miss Baker?
Not your business.
You are going to get married,
and then go on a honeymoon. Where?
Maybe, for example, to Australia, hm?
- That’s exactly where they’ll kill you. - The thing... no.
They'll make it look like an accident and your 50 thousand pounds
will add to Elizabeth Baker's 450 thousand, and she'll become a princess.
None of your business.
Write.
- Write down that you know. - I'm ready, but here? How? The police-
You'll need to get there first.
Daddy! Daddy!
Write, write! Doctor, do something about the children.
Uh, well,
- children, children, you are far too loud! Can you- - Where's our daddy?
- How would I know where your daddy is? - Keep writing!
But we were told he was waiting here.
Who told you?
This gentleman.
- Write! - And where is he? - There.
Fine, let's go. Go and show me the guy.
Where've you been?
- We've been in the forest. - In the forest? All right, let's go.
Ladies and gentlemen, the train to Bristol is departing in 5 minutes.
Keep writing.
Watson?
Write!
Write!
John, take the gun!
Keep writing!
John, there's something in his scarf!
Keep writing!
John, are you all right?
Write, Moulbrey, write, you're safe. Moulbrey?
Doctor, in here! Moulbrey! Moulbrey!
What's wrong with him?
Dead.
Look for the spike.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, don't move!
It's here.
Sh- sh- shhh.
Looks like he died from a heart attack.
Maybe we should call the police.
No, it will take too much time.
- We need to hurry. - Where?
- The train is departing soon. - To Bristol?
Not bad, now we'll mess up everything for Moriarty.
Moulbrey is gone,
but Miss Baker remains.
- Ladies and gentlemen, the train to Bristol is departing. - And we know where to find her!
Bristol
Good day, daughter. Weren't expecting us? We came without warning.
We miss you so much, so much.
What's wrong with you, Beth? Are you not happy?
Give your mother a hug.
I'm warning you, if you want to make money off me, you'll sooner lie in a grave before you get any.
You've played your role, you got enough for it.
I’m not giving any money to you.
- Daughter... - Don't call me daughter! If you call me that again, I'll call my friends!
Do you mean us, Miss Baker?
- I've got you, Holmes! - Don't!
Don't disturb me, Doctor. Miss Baker, I can release your hand at any moment.
If you refuse to help with the investigation I will let go immediately!
Alive you're only interesting to us as a witness.
- I don't want to be hanged! - I promise you, if you tell the truth your life will be spared.
What did you just promise her?
Oh, sorry, Miss Baker, farewell.
Stop!
To hell with you, I agree!
Would you like some excellent German drops for your flu?
I do. Your message forced me to go out in poor health and with a temperature.
I even had to drag these stupid actors around with me.
Oh, you won't regret the results.
That's it, here, Inspector.
Thank you.
As I understand, Mr. and Mrs. Lucian are free to go now.
- Damn it, Holmes, stop giving orders! - Miss Baker's friend will be here any minute now.
So,
let's agree on the signals.
If it's getting dangerous,
say, "It's getting stuffy in here."
If the danger is still mounting,
say, "Let's open the window", and then open it.
And if it becomes really dangerous, you just scream.
Who's there?
It's me.
I was expecting you earlier.
Did something happen?
Be quiet for a moment, love.
What's in there?
Same as in here, a hotel room.
Get ready.
- For what? - We're leaving.
Listen, Gilbert, we didn't arrange it like that with you and Mr. Buckley.
Tomorrow I'm marrying Moulbrey, then we take the ship to Australia, I have the tickets.
It's been cancelled. I took care of everything.
- What do you mean, "took care of everything"? - Henry Moulbrey is gone.
Explain.
Are you not in on it yet, Miss Lonegan?
No.
It's getting stuffy in here.
Do you really not know anything?
Listen, Gilbert, don't play dumb, tell me now!
Now, this is the Miss Lonegan I know.
Why did he say Lonegan?
- So they've not contacted you? - Riddles again?
I'm talking about Holmes and his friend.
The professor was right. Moulbrey couldn't have told them, otherwise they would be here already.
- Pack up, Meg, don't just stand here. - I won't move a finger until you tell me where we are going.
We need to go back into hiding until we get rid of the sleuths and find the Lord's will.
You know, we've searched Kibby's office - nothing.
But where's Mr. Buckley?
A very bad question, love.
I'm starting to think that the sleuths contacted you after all.
Think whatever you want. I don't give a damn about Mr. Buckley in general, but where's Jim?
Oh love, if you only knew how amazing you look when you're angry.
Why is it like that?
All these pampered aristocratic pricks had a taste of you, but not me.
You're burning up, Gilbert, we need to open the window.
Nobody's stopping you.
Come here! Lestrade, it's the signal! Quick, block the entrance! Break the door!
Three, four! Three, four!
He's there! Get him!
Leave it to the doctor. Doctor, you shoot! Shoot!
Actually, I heal people.
Stop!
What, already tired?
That's it! It's empty.
Don’t let him out of your sight.
- I have to admit, it was tempting to shoot him in more than just the legs... - But then that wouldn’t be rational.
There's no place for emotions when solving crimes.
What matters are facts, logic, witnesses, and accomplices, preferably alive.
What a way to start the day.
Two constables killed, the only witness also dead.
You clearly can't get much from that, can you?
Well?
Based on what evidence should I review Calloway's case?
This is a signed
testimony from Henry Moulbrey, which he managed to give before his death. I hope it will be enough for you to free Calloway,
and jail the principal perpetrator, Gilbert Roy.
Well, you take that.
We'll be going now. Have a good day.
No, but still I don't understand, why did he need to kill this Elizabeth Baker? She's the only legal heiress of this half a million fortune,
how can they get it without her now, hm?
- It means there's someone else. - Who?
Who?
The secret lies within the pages of
the will of Lord Moulbrey.
Oh, a subpoena from Ronald Fitzpatrick, they obviously want to thank us for the work.
- Say, that tobacco smells fantastic, could I have a go? - Ah, no.
- Holmes, how about this: I'll get another pipe for you and teach you how to smoke it properly. - Don't.
No, no, no, listen: how to keep it at the right temperature...
- Don't, Doctor, I understand. Very complicated. - No, my dear Holmes, just listen: it's not an easy business. Now, now—
- Very complicated. - Wait, give me a moment.
Watson!
"Dear Mr. Holmes, many of my clients have spoken of you as a man of incredible talents and
utmost honesty. It is known that you are an ardent upholder of justice.
Mr. Holmes, I appear to have been drawn into a fraud, the victims of which became so..."
Wait, not this. "...coveted the money, and so in this way I turned from a silent observer to an accomplice of the crime."
Read!
Read it, Doctor!
Read the signature.
- Signature: Notary... - Notary Robert Kibby!
The lost will of Lord Moulbrey is found! Who will inherit the fortune?
Read the latest news!
Chronicle, sir!
What if they don't come?
If they don't come today, they'll come tomorrow.
We've already been stuck here all day.
Good day, Mr. Holmes.
Miss Ellen! What a surprise! Please.
- Thank you, thank you. - How did you find me?
Mrs. Hudson was very kind.
- Oh, yes - Give that to me. - Thank you.
- Maybe you could introduce us? - Of course.
Doctor Watson.
Senior Inspector of Scotland Yard, Lestrade.
Scotland Yard.
Why did you come?
Your request.
What?
Oh, of course. Sorry.
Here.
I worked hard on this.
You've worked too hard.
Jane Lonegan.
What?
This is the missing link.
What?
Standing before you is the sister
of Lean Lonegan and Mathilda Lonegan, also known as Joyce Sundengrast and Elizabeth Baker.
She's also the heiress of Lord Moulbrey's enormous fortune.
I liked you from the very start.
Sadly, I liked you too.
Stop, stop, I don't get it.
Australia! What a wonderful distant country, Australia! Did your sister Mathilda come back from Australia?
I don't have any sister named Mathilda.
You don’t now, she's been killed.
My friend, an Australian detective, sent me an answer to my request yesterday,
- and it clarified many things. - For example?
For example, the presence of the air gun with poisoned darts which your friend was spitting left and right.
And finally the bracelet pattern.
It's unlikely for an artist to remember such tiny details from just a glance.
Your accuracy has been your undoing. Accuracy!
Let's play.
- No, I don't play. - Actually, you do.
You do, but on a bigger scale,
when there's at least a half a million pounds at stake.
I would like to see the will, Mr. Holmes.
Your late father's will?
Yes, the will of my late father, Lord Moulbrey.
But you don't have it, Mr. Holmes,
that's why you're bluffing
and accusing me of murders that have nothing to do with me.
- Can I ask you a question? - Yes, of course.
- "Lonegan" is your mother's name? - Yes.
And why did the Lord refuse to acknowledge you?
That's because he was a lord and my mother was just a beautiful woman
without family and connections.
What a scary woman you are.
When you found out that your father was going to give his entire fortune to his mistresses,
you immediately called on your stepsisters and placed them right into his bed.
They jumped there themselves when they found out about the money.
And did they kill themselves as well? And Henry Moulbrey? And Notary Kibby?
I didn't touch any of them, so be careful when blaming me, Mr. Holmes.
You organised it so well.
Doctor,
could you please give me the will?
Give it here.
Please, read.
Let everyone be happy for you.
"I, Lord Moulbrey, declare that in the case of refusal or impossibility of inheritance by one, some, or all of the heirs listed above, my entire fortune shall pass to the person who is my
closest relative."
Congratulations.
Now read this.
- What is that? - Another will, but of a later date.
"I, Lord Moulbrey, declare that the in case of refusal or impossibility of inheritance by one, some, or all of the heirs listed above, my entire fortune shall be transferred—”
“...for full disposal to the monastery and orphanage of Saint Patrick." Signed, John Moulbrey.
So be it.
You won't prove it anyway.
We will.
In Bristol, we heard your sister talking with Mr. Roy. Her words revealed that it was you who planned the murder of Henry Moulbrey. It's enough to put you in jail!
Let go! No! No, no, no!
Keep going.
It’s curious, why do I always crave something stronger after such situations, not something reasonable? Like whiskey, for example.
- Nerves, it’s just nerves. - That’s where you’re wrong.
The case is closed.
I have nothing to think about.
Tell me, Watson...
Do women love secrets?
Who are you talking about?
All of them love danger, and she's no exception.
She would love you even more for that.
Listen, Sherlock, she doesn't love me at all to begin with. Where did you get your "even more" from?
She's waiting for a move from you, for a clear move.
Believe me, I know women.
Well if you do, why aren't you married yet?
Do you smell that?
The smell of...
cigars.
Which cigar?
Sherlock, all cigars smell the same.
Yes, but not this one.
"The Royal Caribbean".
You wished to see me, Miss Lonegan.
What for?
- I had another accomplice. - Of course, you couldn't have planned such an operation by yourself.
He planned and arranged it all.
Find him, Mr. Holmes. His name is Bernard Buckley.
Moriarty.
The Mistresses of Lord Moulbrey
*Reviser's note: The name of the poison Holmes mumbles here was indecipherable so "histrionicotoxin" has been used instead. It was first recorded in 1823 and is indeed a toxin found in the skin of frogs, however they are not native to Australia.
Technically, it would have been impossible for Holmes to have named the poison of an Australian frog in the 19th century.
Cane toads, which are poisonous, were not introduced to Australia until 1935, while the Corroboree frog, which is endemic to Australia, did not have its poisonous alkaloid named until 2002.
could easily have led a financially comfortable life.
But Holmes treated money rather strangely.
He would charge extraordinary sums from certain clients,
but refuse to take a single penny from others who clearly had the means.
I could not understand the logic of this strange commerce, until I asked him personally.
"My mind rebels at stagnation," he said. "But there are certain cases that bring me absolute joy.
These cases—these problems—test my brain, and challenge my observation and my method. They enlighten me.
How can I take money for the joy of science?
I am prepared to pay for these cases myself."
This was the commercial logic of Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock Holmes
Mr. Calloway!
I'm here.
Mr. Calloway, where are you?
Over here.
Where?
Chapter Four: The Mistresses of Lord Moulbrey
Well, the beginning is intriguing,
but lacks... spice.
This isn’t a cooking recipe.
And it lacks humour as well.
It's all spooky and dry somehow,
there's no life in there.
But this is a true story.
Yes, but listen, this detective,
such a thing doesn’t exist... not a single reader will believe it, for God’s sake.
Fine.
It's not fine.
Listen, there’s no need to start over and create something new.
- Just write like Stevenson- - Like Stevenson! - but fresher.
Like Stevenson?
- Well, I won't be able to write like Stevenson. - Just try.
Try and you will.
Listen, listen,
you're acting like a... I don't know... like Byron!
Except the only real similarity is that you’re both invalids.
Yes, this is my final answer.
But Martha...
I'm not Martha to you anymore. Goodbye.
I said get out!
- Ah, sorry, Mrs. Hudson... - Ah, Doctor.
Can I... well, let’s just say...
- you know, it’s beautiful weather, isn't it? - Horrible!
Venus in the sign of Mars, it will be wet.
You know, somehow, after Afghanistan,
I’ve grown fonder of Mother England, with her
- rain, and her... - Tea will be in one hour.
...humidity.
Forgive me, but I must ask a tactless question...
Who was that man in the chequered gaiters?
O'Shaughnessy.
He has a cattle ranch in Scotland, and four grown daughters.
He's a widower and we have both just parted ways.
What a pity.
I mean, I'm so sorry, uh, you understand,
- well, I have no right to ask this question and I won't ask you this question— - What question?
- What was— - I don't like the smell of cowsheds, or having to put up with rivalries from other women.
Quite right.
Uh, I-
My God, I'm sorry, I’m so sorry, I—
What are you sorry for?
What?
The vase.
The vase.
But... forgive me! I...
Let- let me- let me help,
let me,
- I... I'll h... let me, I beg of you... - Please—
- Mr. Watson! - I- I'll... I'll buy you a new one—
Please excuse me,
the door was open.
Could I see Mr. Sherlock Holmes?
All right, but why do you think you will be the fifth victim, Miss...?
Baker. Elizabeth Baker.
As I said, Mr. Holmes, this is not the first day this man has followed me, plus
his appearance matches the description in the newspapers.
He's short,
chunky, about 30-35,
and today when I was collecting my clothes from the laundry, I found this.
"Dear Elizabeth, you are the best thing that my life has. I ask you for a date.
There is no need to rush your refusal, you will have time to say no.
You are young, beautiful, but not well-to-do. I, however, am experienced, consistent, and unmarried.
I will wait for you on Friday at 10 o'clock in the evening near the entrance to Spitalfields."
No signature.
Well, Mr. and Mrs. Baker. Everything is up to you now.
I don't even know what to say, Mr. Holmes.
Perhaps we could call the police?
I think that might be a good idea.
Terrible idea.
The sight of a constable on the porch
will no doubt frighten the man away
and the matter will appear to be resolved,
but it won't last.
He will return.
But no sensible parent could allow his child
to be used as bait for a murderer, Mr. Holmes.
I understand.
May I?
That's one side of the matter,
but on the other hand,
on the other hand, it's worse.
It’s worse to have to live under constant fear and unrest.
What’s the point in delaying the inevitable?
- Linda! - Henry!
Well, all right. Only if you guarantee her safety,
gentlemen.
But! My daughter
must not have any negative experience.
I promise you that the worst
will not eventuate.
What do you say, Watson?
Of course.
Wait, wait,
it's not him,
it's a port wench and her client.
This one is ours.
Damn it, Doctor, let him do his business,
or we won't have any evidence.
- What was that? - Wait!
Hold this!
Careful, careful, let me...
Shh, shh, shh...
Gentlemen, silence in the hall! Order!
All rise!
The court will now deliver its verdict.
Henry Thomas Calloway,
the court finds you guilty and sentences you to death by hanging.
The verdict is final and not appealable and should be enforced during the day.
Read the Chronicle! Henry Thomas Calloway, four-time murderer, has been sentenced to hang!
The fifth victim has given her testimony! London can sleep better!
It’s strange, but somehow I pity this man.
Almost all criminals seem like children before the courtroom, especially at the moment of a death sentence.
Believe me, Watson, I’ve seen many such transformations
in the wake of a guilty verdict.
Mr. Holmes!
Mr. Holmes, I don't even know how to thank you.
You and your friend,
- if not for you, I wouldn't— - No need.
I’m still incredibly grateful to you, Mr. Holmes.
Miss Baker, please send our greetings to your parents, Mr. Holmes and I
will certainly call upon you again soon.
We shall be happy to see you.
Goodbye.
Doctor, have you been writing?
Why do you say I’ve been writing?
Your hand is covered with ink.
So, today I read in the paper about this murderer, Calloway.
He looks like a true Capricorn.
Good thing he will finally be hanged.
These gentlemen from Scotland Yard
are actually quite effective when they want to do their job.
Too bad they rarely want to do so.
But I find it strange
that the newspaper didn't have
a portrait of this lady, Elizabeth Baker.
Poor thing suffered so badly it must have affected her looks.
You, Mrs. Hudson, are a very vigilant woman.
Indeed, she’s been on my mind for the whole day.
Get ready, Watson.
Get ready, we'll eat later.
So, where are we going?
Patience, my friend, patience.
Holmes, you ask for patience,
but we're going God knows where, for God knows what reason,
at this time of night, and I haven’t even had my tea.
But I'm driving you to the tea.
You promised to visit Miss Baker.
Yes, but...
It’s barely been two days, and not to mention
we're going without any warning.
Perhaps they’ve already gone to bed.
They haven’t. My intuition tells me so.
- But then the light would be on and, I don't know.. - It would be,
if anyone actually lived there.
- Strange. - Watch the street.
Come on.
Careful, Holmes. Holmes! Holmes!
What are you looking for?
Give me a hand.
What is it?
"Lord George Stanley Moulbrey".
It's something. At least it's something.
Wait, wait, how...
How did you guess that it was there?
I didn't guess, it was a methodical search.
We got lucky,
I expected to take all night.
What do you think, what is this visiting card doing here?
The visiting card of the Leader of the House of Lords, George Moulbrey.
First scenario:
George Moulbrey was familiar with the Bakers and,
during a visit to this house, he accidentally dropped
this card.
Even though Bakers occupied this flat, I would say...
for no more than two weeks,
and Moulbrey died six weeks ago?
It was in all the newspapers.
Ah. But why two weeks?
The dust indicates that nobody even entered that room.
There were pictures on the wall when we visited.
Usually wallpaper fades, leaving behind dark shadows— there are none here.
Furthermore, Miss Baker's parents weren't present in court.
So what? What’s suspicious about that? Maybe they're ill, or—
If you had a daughter, John,
and her life had been threatened by some scoundrel, wouldn't you want to be there personally to see the sentence handed down?
Yes, yes, absolutely. You’re right, perfectly logical.
The people who hosted us are swindlers.
What?
And all of these...
are decorations.
To fool the two overweening idiots.
Wa- wait. So this mistake
could cost the life of that poor Calloway?
- Hold on a minute... - I think it already has.
But we could, of course, wake up the judge, just in case.
There’s no point rushing, Doctor, you can’t outrun destiny.
Holmes, I know it’s the puzzle that interests you, but what about a person’s life? Or is that just another piece of the puzzle too?
Tom Henry Calloway is so far removed from me that yes, he's just a piece of the puzzle.
Sometimes you can sound dreadfully amoral.
Morality should be the last appeal for the intellect.
Henry Thomas Calloway,
you have been found guilty for the murders of
Ann Bishop, Joyce Sundengrast, Lean Henderson, and Mary Ringwalt,
and for the attempted murder of Elizabeth Baker.
The court, comprising 12 jurors,
and Justice James Baker, under section two of the Offences Against the Person Act 1861, has sentenced you to death.
- Gentlemen, I'm- I'm an elderly man... - Careful!
- I have an awful headache... - The door.
Before you meet our Lord, my son, tell me your last wish.
Where's the head of the prison?
I'm Judge Bradshaw. These gentlemen woke me up in the middle of the night on urgent business. Where is the head?
It’s 5.30 in the morning, sir, the head is conducting the executions.
Lead me there.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Amen.
It's not him!
It's not him!
- Who are you looking for? - Henry Thomas Calloway.
Sorry, sir, he's in the next room.
The sentence will be enforced.
Wait! Stop the execution!
So, you lost at cards.
What was the sum?
Huge. Really huge, 1200 pounds. I would be better off to jump into the Thames.
Why didn't you?
Very good.
Fate sent me Mr. Bernard Buckley.
Oh, what a person he was! A fiend from Hell, the Devil incarnate!
Very literary. Where did you meet?
- With Mr. Buckley? - Yes, with your devil.
At the exit of the gaming house.
On the same evening?
Yes, Mr. Buckley offered his help.
Forgive me, but didn't it seem strange to you that a stranger would suddenly offer you his help?
When you’re in 1200 pounds of debt and you’re offered 1500...
I understand. A drowning man will not always have regard for the cleanliness of the hand that helps him.
Absolutely right! It’s precisely as you say.
Mr. Buckley asked me to follow four ladies, which I did successfully for 2 weeks...
...and he even paid half of the agreed sum, 750 pounds.
What exactly did you do?
I followed the ladies like a shadow, quietly,
and delivered information to Mr. Buckley, until these horrible events started happening
and those four unfortunate souls were killed one after another.
But surely if you were
not afraid by this point, you would have at least asked yourself why these women each
suffered such a horrible fate?
Yes, I asked him the same question and even threatened
to go to the police.
But he, of course, said that he wouldn’t give you the second half of the money,
that you had already become an accomplice in those crimes,
and that you had better keep your mouth shut.
Yes. Yes, exactly! Word for word.
Mr. Buckley showed me a newspaper with reports of the crimes
and the description of the murderer fit me down to the last inch.
The trap was sprung.
Yes.
And then I agreed to meet with the lady, Miss Elizabeth Baker.
My task was to charm her, to make her fall in love with me.
I was worried, considering I’m no Apollo, I didn’t
think that such a sweet and beautiful lady would be interested in me, but...
But suddenly she became interested.
Yes,
and then...
Mr. Calloway!
- Miss Elizabeth! - Mr. Calloway!
- Miss Elizabeth, what's wrong? - Mister-
She began to tighten her scarf on her neck, so tightly
that I— and I’m not a weak man— couldn't untie the knot.
The most important thing was that you held the ends of the knot, that way you were caught in the act.
All right, the man to whom you lost - did you know him before?
He introduced himself as Gilbert Roy.
Oh, he's a terrible man, I’m certain he’s capable of murder.
Where were you supposed to bring the money?
To his house at 12 Calverton Street.
Do you have, by any chance, the address of your employer, Bernard Buckley?
No, I'm telling you, he was the Devil incarnate,
he was always appearing from nowhere
and disappearing into nothing.
Very well, what did he look like?
A bit shorter than you by three or four inches,
about 40-45, lean, dark hair, brown eyes...
Pale? Long hands?
- Right... - Wears glasses with blue lenses?
Yes.
Remember how I told you that no criminal can scare me?
There is one exception - Moriarty.
Robert Moriarty.
He's an evil genius,
the professor of the criminal world, and believe me, Watson, he is quite worth this title.
So, what, you were describing Moriarty’s appearance just then at the prison office?
The mere murder of four girls isn’t his style, it’s far too petty.
The Professor isn’t the same as those unsophisticated murderers who kill only for their pleasure, there's...
something else. Something...
for which he had to gather an army of accomplices.
Elizabeth Baker, the fake parents, the card player Gilbert Roy.
It's clear that this honest company doesn't work for him for nothing. So why?
Money?
Do you remember Roy's address?
Gilbert Roy...
Twelve Calverton Street. You go there, I'll visit the relatives of the murdered women.
Good day, sir, are you Gilbert Roy?
What the hell do you want?
I have a letter from your debtor, Mr. Calloway.
How did you come by it?
We were in the same prison cell, well, until he was...
Give it to me.
We don't work for free, sir, a shilling first.
Thank you, Mrs. Ringwalt, you are very kind.
May I?
The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! Read the latest news!
As far as I know, Mrs. Ringwalt, all these dresses were sewn in
Francois Poulles' workshop.
And every dress has its own umbrella.
Yes, for a poor lady, your niece was very decently dressed.
I told her it wouldn't end well.
I don't know where Mary got the money for all this attire.
Damn girl got completely out of hand during her last months. My poor silly girl.
Please accept my condolences one more time, Mr. Bishop.
She was kindness itself.
Not long before her death, she gave me this pipe.
- May I? - Yes.
Yes, and a fine tobacco set, too.
Dorwood's special.
Rather expensive, by your means.
The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! Read the latest news!
Pardon me.
Thank you, sir, you've done me a great... I’m sorry, but that’s mine.
Really?
Please give the cigar back.
What next! It's my cigar, I found it.
I understand. Take this.
A sovereign, and you have a deal.
- A sovereign?! - A sovereign.
And deal.
One pound. One second.
- The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! - Thank you. - Read the latest news!
The will of Lord Moulbrey is still not found! Read the latest news!
Sir! Sir! Police, get him!
Stop!
Got you! Drag him to the station!
This might surprise you, Mr. Holmes,
but my late sister and I were twins.
But Joyce always had something...
something special about her.
And I was always jealous of her.
But with Joyce's death,
my jealousy has died as well.
Sometimes, Mr. Holmes, we should thank the Lord
for his miserliness.
You have a very precise hand.
And for a common lady your thoughts are very profound.
Thank you.
You asked me about anything unusual.
During her last two years, she began driving around in carriages,
buying expensive things,
and a month before her death she spent all her savings.
Well, it has an explanation.
A rich lover,
and an elderly one.
He said to her that he was going to make a will.
As far as I know, this man was one of the richest people in Britain.
Lord Moulbrey!
More than anything else in the world, Mr. Holmes,
I wanted to be present
at this scoundrel Calloway's execution.
I'm afraid, Miss Sundengrast, that Calloway's execution will not close your sister's case.
You think the case isn’t over yet?
I can't say anything to you now.
You were present at the court.
Of course, of course.
Do you remember the poor witness, Miss Baker?
Very well.
The thing is that for some unknown reasons Miss Baker's portrait was not reproduced in any newspaper reports.
You are an artist.
Of course, I... I will draw her portrait.
You are very kind.
Tell me, Mr. Kibby, did you not get enough for your silence?
I don't understand, Mr. Roy.
Do not blackmail us, Mr. Kibby.
What is this?
This is Lord Moulbrey's visiting card which you sent me by some ragamuffin.
I didn't send anything to you. You are wrong, Mr. Roy.
This ragamuffin said that the card was from Calloway,
but Calloway didn't know Lord Moulbrey,
and he didn't know anything about the will.
He didn't know anything at all, this fool Calloway.
I... you're mistaken, Mr. Roy.
God damn you, Mr. Roy, you and your Mr. Buckley and your damn girl Baker,
damn my greed, I already regret that I ever did business with you!
My advice to you, Mr. Kibby, is not to regret anything.
Otherwise, we may begin to think you have other intentions.
- Gregson! - Yes, sir. - Release Watson.
- Wilkinson! - Yes, sir. - Bring his personal belongings.
Right then, John Watson, your bail has been posted. Questions?
No questions. Here are your belongings.
Please sign this.
Holmes, you are on time, as usual.
But you've missed Gilbert Roy.
I'll explain.
There's no use for your explanations.
- I suppose not. Maybe this isn’t the one you wanted, but... - Goodbye, Doctor.
The Royal Caribbean. Moriarty.
Where did you get it?
It was thrown out of Gilbert Roy's window.
Only in the Chronicle! The latest news! Only in the Chronicle!
The will of Lord Moulbrey has disappeared!
The latest news! Only in the Chronicle! The latest news! Only in the Chronicle!
I spoke with the relatives of our dead beauties and I discovered that none of them came from much wealth at all.
During the final months before their deaths, they lived on unaffordable sums, meaning all of them had a rich lover.
A coincidence can happen once, twice, maybe even thrice, but not four and five times!
Considering the fact that Mr. Moulbrey's card was found in Miss Baker's house,
- I believe all of them had the same lover. - Moulbrey.
Exactly. Think about it:
a widower, no children, why not leave his fortune to five beautiful women who made the last years of his life brighter?
And Miss Baker?
And Miss Baker.
Miss Baker, Doctor, is an accomplice of this clever crime.
If her name is
in the will, it means she becomes the only heiress of the entire fortune, you understand?
We have to visit the notary who made the will, Robert Kibby.
Yes, the notary. He learned everything from the newspapers,
but he didn't take any action. So he's either
frightened, or being bribed.
I must ask Lestrade to put you in jail once a week
with the criminals, the thieves, all these madmen, it seems to do wonders to your intelligence.
Yes?
I would like to send this parcel.
This address, please.
Please sign here.
- Here. - Yes, thank you.
Take this.
Please.
Thank you, sir.
Thank you.
- Thank you. - Have a good day.
Buy the newspaper! Buy the newspaper!
What a surprise.
Mr. Kibby! Mr. Kibby,
if I'm not mistaken...
What happened to him?
- Murder! He's been killed! - Call a doctor!
A doctor! A doctor!
Let me.
Police, coming through.
Step back, everyone step back, do not panic.
Mr. Holmes, how are you always perfectly on time?
The liberties you take are dragging my patience to its limit!
How dare you interfere in Calloway's case?
On what basis was his execution cancelled?
On the basis that Calloway is innocent.
Calloway himself pleaded guilty,
he signed the verdict of the investigation!
After a good number of hits to his ribs.
Are you accusing me of torture?
He told you the truth,
but for some reason you didn't listen.
Calloway lied. That's it, the case is closed,
he will be hanged today.
If your agencies tell the press
that Calloway is alive, he will be dead even without you.
He will be strangled today in his prison cell.
And who will do it, if I may ask?
Moriarty.
Moriarty? Who is this Moriarty?
Holmes, he is an opium-induced delusion.
There's no such man in any police file in the world,
not according to Bertillon, nor Galton!
In general, the full picture will be revealed after the autopsy,
but we can ascertain now that cause of death was poison.
Pricked with something sharp, most likely a poisoned needle.
Right here.
Holmes, where's the murder weapon?
You can search me.
Python, arrest him.
Yes, sir.
Let me offer you a deal.
Look, if you announce to everyone that Calloway was hanged and promise that
he will stay alive until the end of my investigation,
I will share with you some valuable information.
So you said that Kibby was eliminated as an accomplice?
Only as a witness.
And where is the evidence of his connection with the criminals?
Promise that Calloway will live.
Promise that you will keep silent for at least two days.
All right, damn you, fine.
You will find the evidence in Moulbrey's will. I believe it’s in his office.
- Gregson! - Yes, sir.
Go immediately to the prosecutor and get a search warrant for Kibby's office.
Yes, sir.
Additionally, I would find out everything about that girl Elizabeth Baker, she's an accomplice for sure.
Yes, and I would also search for her fake parents at the London theatres.
- Gregson! - Yes, sir.
Still here? Did you hear that?
- Yes. - Do it. - Yes, sir.
Yes, and I would also find out everything about the past of a man called Gilbert Roy.
What Gilbert Roy?
And if I were you I would do that first.
You aren't in a place to give orders, Holmes. You are a consultant.
You're discrediting the very institution of law enforcement.
I would've put you in jail a long time ago, but you have powerful protectors.
My only protector is the truth.
And you're the last instance of it?
Why the last?
- Next to last. - That's right.
The last instance is me!
Actually, I meant the Queen.
Firstly me, then the Queen.
- Python. - Yes.
Take them off.
What are these tricks, Mr. Holmes?
I will confiscate your keys to the back door again.
Yes, but you know very well that I have a skeleton key.
I'll change the lock!
Don’t be ridiculous, skeleton keys work for any kind of lock.
Can I ask one question? Tell me, did anybody come?
Happily not, Mr. Holmes.
Nothing was brought to me?
That's a second question already.
Let's go, Doctor.
I think I'll go to bed, Holmes.
I assure you, you won't get to your bed today. Our train to Bristol departs at quarter to twelve.
Bristol?
Yes, right after the court session,
this man redeemed all the daguerreotypes and pictures of Miss Baker,
but we got lucky. An artist from Punch remembered his customer and reproduced his appearance.
My God, Holmes,
this boy was at Gilbert Roy’s residence.
That’s not just any boy,
that’s the nephew of the late Lord Moulbrey, Henry Moulbrey.
He’d fall under your area of expertise, by the way.
Suffers from heart disease, and just a meek nature overall.
Excuse me, where did you get my wallet?
While you were unsuccessfully chasing after Gilbert Roy,
Pete the Rat followed Henry
and discovered that he bought a night train ticket to Bristol.
Why does he need to go there?
Obviously to meet with the accomplice and the only witness
of this crime rolled into one - Miss Baker.
Are you sure?
Sorry, Holmes, I think I had a bit more in here.
Subtract the cost of the tickets,
that's the first thing.
Secondly...
Secondly...
histrionicotoxin!
A poison of an Australian frog.*
He doesn't have any companions.
Don't stare like that, he'll notice.
The train to Bristol is departing in 15 minutes.
- Do you have your gun? - Yes.
Hide your face.
- What are going to do? - Quiet!
Forgive me, Elizabeth.
- I'm not going to participate in such things. - You chicken! I want help from you, support!
Forgive, forgive me, my love, forgive me and farewell!
If you scream I'll stab you right between your eyes!
You... you who are you?
We're interested in your uncle's will. Do you want to share?
I see you're quite informed, but there’s one thing you don’t know. He left a miserably small part for me in his will. I'll call the police...
Then we'll kill you.
- You... you don't look like murderers. - Who looks like one? Do you look like a person who killed four innocent ladies?
- I- I- I- I didn't kill anybody... - Mary Ringwalt, Ann Bishop, Joyce Sundengrast,
- Lean Henderson. - I don't know who you're talking about. I’ll pay you if that’s what you want...
The train to Bristol is departing in 10 minutes.
A good silencer, nobody will hear the shot.
- The train to Bristol will be departing soon. - Bernard Buckley and Roy, it was them who killed these women, with help from their friends—
- Why? - The old bastard left a miserable sum for me
and divided the rest between five of his mistresses.
It's written in the will that if anyone is unable to inherit, the rest will get their share.
They killed these women so everything would end up in the hands of one person, all 450 thousand.
So who is this only heir?
Elizabeth Baker.
But they frightened her! They threatened her and said that if she won't help them they'll kill her.
- Why didn't she call the police then? - She wanted to, but...
...they said-
...they'd kill me as well.
Who are you to her?
The thing is that Elizabeth and I are lovers.
That Elizabeth!
- So she was having a romance with you and with your uncle? - Yes, but she didn't love him. It was... it was a necessary decision.
What necessary decision?
It's because of her parents' illness. The thing is that the care and medicine required are very expensive.
Have you ever seen her parents?
Yes. Yes, her father couldn't get out of bed and her mother... there was something wrong with her leg.
Do you know me?
No. No.
I'm Sherlock Holmes,
a private detective. This is Dr. Watson.
I really pity you.
Your life is in danger. You've fallen into the hands of rogues, swindlers.
Are you meeting with Miss Baker?
Not your business.
You are going to get married,
and then go on a honeymoon. Where?
Maybe, for example, to Australia, hm?
- That’s exactly where they’ll kill you. - The thing... no.
They'll make it look like an accident and your 50 thousand pounds
will add to Elizabeth Baker's 450 thousand, and she'll become a princess.
None of your business.
Write.
- Write down that you know. - I'm ready, but here? How? The police-
You'll need to get there first.
Daddy! Daddy!
Write, write! Doctor, do something about the children.
Uh, well,
- children, children, you are far too loud! Can you- - Where's our daddy?
- How would I know where your daddy is? - Keep writing!
But we were told he was waiting here.
Who told you?
This gentleman.
- Write! - And where is he? - There.
Fine, let's go. Go and show me the guy.
Where've you been?
- We've been in the forest. - In the forest? All right, let's go.
Ladies and gentlemen, the train to Bristol is departing in 5 minutes.
Keep writing.
Watson?
Write!
Write!
John, take the gun!
Keep writing!
John, there's something in his scarf!
Keep writing!
John, are you all right?
Write, Moulbrey, write, you're safe. Moulbrey?
Doctor, in here! Moulbrey! Moulbrey!
What's wrong with him?
Dead.
Look for the spike.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, don't move!
It's here.
Sh- sh- shhh.
Looks like he died from a heart attack.
Maybe we should call the police.
No, it will take too much time.
- We need to hurry. - Where?
- The train is departing soon. - To Bristol?
Not bad, now we'll mess up everything for Moriarty.
Moulbrey is gone,
but Miss Baker remains.
- Ladies and gentlemen, the train to Bristol is departing. - And we know where to find her!
Bristol
Good day, daughter. Weren't expecting us? We came without warning.
We miss you so much, so much.
What's wrong with you, Beth? Are you not happy?
Give your mother a hug.
I'm warning you, if you want to make money off me, you'll sooner lie in a grave before you get any.
You've played your role, you got enough for it.
I’m not giving any money to you.
- Daughter... - Don't call me daughter! If you call me that again, I'll call my friends!
Do you mean us, Miss Baker?
- I've got you, Holmes! - Don't!
Don't disturb me, Doctor. Miss Baker, I can release your hand at any moment.
If you refuse to help with the investigation I will let go immediately!
Alive you're only interesting to us as a witness.
- I don't want to be hanged! - I promise you, if you tell the truth your life will be spared.
What did you just promise her?
Oh, sorry, Miss Baker, farewell.
Stop!
To hell with you, I agree!
Would you like some excellent German drops for your flu?
I do. Your message forced me to go out in poor health and with a temperature.
I even had to drag these stupid actors around with me.
Oh, you won't regret the results.
That's it, here, Inspector.
Thank you.
As I understand, Mr. and Mrs. Lucian are free to go now.
- Damn it, Holmes, stop giving orders! - Miss Baker's friend will be here any minute now.
So,
let's agree on the signals.
If it's getting dangerous,
say, "It's getting stuffy in here."
If the danger is still mounting,
say, "Let's open the window", and then open it.
And if it becomes really dangerous, you just scream.
Who's there?
It's me.
I was expecting you earlier.
Did something happen?
Be quiet for a moment, love.
What's in there?
Same as in here, a hotel room.
Get ready.
- For what? - We're leaving.
Listen, Gilbert, we didn't arrange it like that with you and Mr. Buckley.
Tomorrow I'm marrying Moulbrey, then we take the ship to Australia, I have the tickets.
It's been cancelled. I took care of everything.
- What do you mean, "took care of everything"? - Henry Moulbrey is gone.
Explain.
Are you not in on it yet, Miss Lonegan?
No.
It's getting stuffy in here.
Do you really not know anything?
Listen, Gilbert, don't play dumb, tell me now!
Now, this is the Miss Lonegan I know.
Why did he say Lonegan?
- So they've not contacted you? - Riddles again?
I'm talking about Holmes and his friend.
The professor was right. Moulbrey couldn't have told them, otherwise they would be here already.
- Pack up, Meg, don't just stand here. - I won't move a finger until you tell me where we are going.
We need to go back into hiding until we get rid of the sleuths and find the Lord's will.
You know, we've searched Kibby's office - nothing.
But where's Mr. Buckley?
A very bad question, love.
I'm starting to think that the sleuths contacted you after all.
Think whatever you want. I don't give a damn about Mr. Buckley in general, but where's Jim?
Oh love, if you only knew how amazing you look when you're angry.
Why is it like that?
All these pampered aristocratic pricks had a taste of you, but not me.
You're burning up, Gilbert, we need to open the window.
Nobody's stopping you.
Come here! Lestrade, it's the signal! Quick, block the entrance! Break the door!
Three, four! Three, four!
He's there! Get him!
Leave it to the doctor. Doctor, you shoot! Shoot!
Actually, I heal people.
Stop!
What, already tired?
That's it! It's empty.
Don’t let him out of your sight.
- I have to admit, it was tempting to shoot him in more than just the legs... - But then that wouldn’t be rational.
There's no place for emotions when solving crimes.
What matters are facts, logic, witnesses, and accomplices, preferably alive.
What a way to start the day.
Two constables killed, the only witness also dead.
You clearly can't get much from that, can you?
Well?
Based on what evidence should I review Calloway's case?
This is a signed
testimony from Henry Moulbrey, which he managed to give before his death. I hope it will be enough for you to free Calloway,
and jail the principal perpetrator, Gilbert Roy.
Well, you take that.
We'll be going now. Have a good day.
No, but still I don't understand, why did he need to kill this Elizabeth Baker? She's the only legal heiress of this half a million fortune,
how can they get it without her now, hm?
- It means there's someone else. - Who?
Who?
The secret lies within the pages of
the will of Lord Moulbrey.
Oh, a subpoena from Ronald Fitzpatrick, they obviously want to thank us for the work.
- Say, that tobacco smells fantastic, could I have a go? - Ah, no.
- Holmes, how about this: I'll get another pipe for you and teach you how to smoke it properly. - Don't.
No, no, no, listen: how to keep it at the right temperature...
- Don't, Doctor, I understand. Very complicated. - No, my dear Holmes, just listen: it's not an easy business. Now, now—
- Very complicated. - Wait, give me a moment.
Watson!
"Dear Mr. Holmes, many of my clients have spoken of you as a man of incredible talents and
utmost honesty. It is known that you are an ardent upholder of justice.
Mr. Holmes, I appear to have been drawn into a fraud, the victims of which became so..."
Wait, not this. "...coveted the money, and so in this way I turned from a silent observer to an accomplice of the crime."
Read!
Read it, Doctor!
Read the signature.
- Signature: Notary... - Notary Robert Kibby!
The lost will of Lord Moulbrey is found! Who will inherit the fortune?
Read the latest news!
Chronicle, sir!
What if they don't come?
If they don't come today, they'll come tomorrow.
We've already been stuck here all day.
Good day, Mr. Holmes.
Miss Ellen! What a surprise! Please.
- Thank you, thank you. - How did you find me?
Mrs. Hudson was very kind.
- Oh, yes - Give that to me. - Thank you.
- Maybe you could introduce us? - Of course.
Doctor Watson.
Senior Inspector of Scotland Yard, Lestrade.
Scotland Yard.
Why did you come?
Your request.
What?
Oh, of course. Sorry.
Here.
I worked hard on this.
You've worked too hard.
Jane Lonegan.
What?
This is the missing link.
What?
Standing before you is the sister
of Lean Lonegan and Mathilda Lonegan, also known as Joyce Sundengrast and Elizabeth Baker.
She's also the heiress of Lord Moulbrey's enormous fortune.
I liked you from the very start.
Sadly, I liked you too.
Stop, stop, I don't get it.
Australia! What a wonderful distant country, Australia! Did your sister Mathilda come back from Australia?
I don't have any sister named Mathilda.
You don’t now, she's been killed.
My friend, an Australian detective, sent me an answer to my request yesterday,
- and it clarified many things. - For example?
For example, the presence of the air gun with poisoned darts which your friend was spitting left and right.
And finally the bracelet pattern.
It's unlikely for an artist to remember such tiny details from just a glance.
Your accuracy has been your undoing. Accuracy!
Let's play.
- No, I don't play. - Actually, you do.
You do, but on a bigger scale,
when there's at least a half a million pounds at stake.
I would like to see the will, Mr. Holmes.
Your late father's will?
Yes, the will of my late father, Lord Moulbrey.
But you don't have it, Mr. Holmes,
that's why you're bluffing
and accusing me of murders that have nothing to do with me.
- Can I ask you a question? - Yes, of course.
- "Lonegan" is your mother's name? - Yes.
And why did the Lord refuse to acknowledge you?
That's because he was a lord and my mother was just a beautiful woman
without family and connections.
What a scary woman you are.
When you found out that your father was going to give his entire fortune to his mistresses,
you immediately called on your stepsisters and placed them right into his bed.
They jumped there themselves when they found out about the money.
And did they kill themselves as well? And Henry Moulbrey? And Notary Kibby?
I didn't touch any of them, so be careful when blaming me, Mr. Holmes.
You organised it so well.
Doctor,
could you please give me the will?
Give it here.
Please, read.
Let everyone be happy for you.
"I, Lord Moulbrey, declare that in the case of refusal or impossibility of inheritance by one, some, or all of the heirs listed above, my entire fortune shall pass to the person who is my
closest relative."
Congratulations.
Now read this.
- What is that? - Another will, but of a later date.
"I, Lord Moulbrey, declare that the in case of refusal or impossibility of inheritance by one, some, or all of the heirs listed above, my entire fortune shall be transferred—”
“...for full disposal to the monastery and orphanage of Saint Patrick." Signed, John Moulbrey.
So be it.
You won't prove it anyway.
We will.
In Bristol, we heard your sister talking with Mr. Roy. Her words revealed that it was you who planned the murder of Henry Moulbrey. It's enough to put you in jail!
Let go! No! No, no, no!
Keep going.
It’s curious, why do I always crave something stronger after such situations, not something reasonable? Like whiskey, for example.
- Nerves, it’s just nerves. - That’s where you’re wrong.
The case is closed.
I have nothing to think about.
Tell me, Watson...
Do women love secrets?
Who are you talking about?
All of them love danger, and she's no exception.
She would love you even more for that.
Listen, Sherlock, she doesn't love me at all to begin with. Where did you get your "even more" from?
She's waiting for a move from you, for a clear move.
Believe me, I know women.
Well if you do, why aren't you married yet?
Do you smell that?
The smell of...
cigars.
Which cigar?
Sherlock, all cigars smell the same.
Yes, but not this one.
"The Royal Caribbean".
You wished to see me, Miss Lonegan.
What for?
- I had another accomplice. - Of course, you couldn't have planned such an operation by yourself.
He planned and arranged it all.
Find him, Mr. Holmes. His name is Bernard Buckley.
Moriarty.
The Mistresses of Lord Moulbrey
*Reviser's note: The name of the poison Holmes mumbles here was indecipherable so "histrionicotoxin" has been used instead. It was first recorded in 1823 and is indeed a toxin found in the skin of frogs, however they are not native to Australia.
Technically, it would have been impossible for Holmes to have named the poison of an Australian frog in the 19th century.
Cane toads, which are poisonous, were not introduced to Australia until 1935, while the Corroboree frog, which is endemic to Australia, did not have its poisonous alkaloid named until 2002.