The Return of Sherlock Holmes (1986–1988): Season 1, Episode 6 - The Priory School - full transcript

There's a gentlemen
downstairs...

Ask him to wait a
moment, Mrs. Hudson.

He's most insistent.

Easy now. Easy.

I must apologize.

I have been a
little overwrought.

I'm a doctor, sir, and I must insist
that you relax yourself and say nothing

until you have eaten.

Thank you. If I might have
a biscuit and a glass of milk,

I have no doubt
I should soon be better.

Mrs. Hudson is preparing
something at this moment.



Please, please, please
forgive this weakness.

I really must...

Mr. Holmes.

At your service.

Master of arts.
Doctor of Philosophy.

Principal of the Priory School.
It is not everyday,

Doctor Huxtable, that so distinguished
a castaway as yourself is

beached upon on the hearthrug.

In speculating what storm
had blown you here

I took the liberty of searching
your person, I hope you will forgive me.

Oh yes, yes of course.

Please sit down.

Your watch.

Unblemished for at
least thirty years,



suddenly this morning scratched.

When you thrust those coins,

unthinkingly into
your waistcoat pocket.

The stern habit of a lifetime
trampled under foot.

A small occurrence perhaps
but own small think

in a way that a vibrating needle
may signal an earthquake

The state of your beard demonstrates
a considerable disruption to your routine.

Three days ago?

Just so.

Just so.

Mr. Holmes, I beg you to accompany me
north to Mackleton immediately.

A matter of the
utmost importance.

I regret.

Doctor Watson and I are extremely
pressed just at the moment.

I'm retained in the case of
the Ferrers Documents, and

Doctor Watson tells me
that he's run off his feet

by this recent epidemic
of this Scarlet Fever.

And then of course, there's
Abergavenny murder coming up for trial.

Now, only a very important issue
could call us away at the present.

Important, sir?
Important?

I dare say you've heard of
the Duke of Holdernesse?

The former cabinet minister?

More than that, Watson.

The letters after his name, huh,
almost half the alphabet.

One of the greatest subjects of
the crown, hey Doctor Huxtable?

One of the greatest and probably
one of the wealthiest,

He is also, I'm proud
to say, my neighbor.

Holdernesse Hall, his country seat,

is across from the valley
from the Priory School.

Duke is an intensely
solitary man.

He appalls the prospect
of public scrutiny

but such is his
anxiety in this matter

that his grace is prepared
to write a check for

five thousand pounds
to see the business off

and another thousand pounds to see
justice visited upon the villains.

That is how important it is.

A princely offer,
Doctor Huxtable.

You have failed in
describing villainy.

Forgive me.

Lord Saltire, the Duke's
son, his only child,

has been abducted.

From the Priory School?

Yes.

When he was in your care?

Quite,

And this abduction
happened three days ago?

Last Saturday night.

Why have you waited so
long before consulting me?

His Grace has a deep horror

of his family unhappiness
being dragged before the world.

The police have been requested
by the Duke to proceed

with such caution that they...

I see.

This affair has been
deplorably handled.

I feel it and admit it.

What form of the
demand for ransom take?

There has been none.

No demand for ransom?

None.

It is one of the most
perplexing aspects of the business

for the boy was not
alone in his flight.

Herr Heidegger, the German master,
is also missing

as indeed, by the
way, is his bicycle.

If he has abducted the boy why has
no demand for money been received?

Heidegger came to me from Switzerland
with the very best references.

Was any other bicycle missing?

Oh no.

You're certain?

Quite Mr. Aveling
checked all the bicycles.

Doctor Huxtable do you
really mean to suggest

that this German master
rode off upon his bicycle

in the dead of night
bearing the boy in his arms?

No.

Then what is this
theory in your mind?

The bicycle may
have been a blind.

He may have hidden it somewhere,
and the pair gone off on foot.

Surely he would have hidden
a couple of bicycles

if he desired to
give that impression.

Yes I suppose he would.

Of course he would
Doctor Huxtable,

this blind theory of
yours will not do.

It is an admirable starting point
for an investigation.

Watson, would you send for
the cab immediately?

Now Holmes?

Set,

and pack.

We got just enough time
to catch the overnight train.

Doctor Huxtable I shall do
a little work at your doors.

Perhaps the train is not so cold

but the two old hounds like Watson
and myself make get a sniff on it.

I imagine the arrival of Lord Saltire
at your school must have been

quite a feather in your cap.

My proudest
moment, Mr. Holmes.

Ever since Blackwell's published
Huxtable's Sidelights on Horace,

a notable little success in his day.
You may have heard of it.

No. How old is the boy?

Nine.

And he's been with you how long?

Oh, since the beginning
of the winter term.

An unusual boy, he seemed
to be fitting in well. He um...

Yes?

I was about to say he was
not entirely happy at home.

The Duke's marriage had
not been a peaceful one.

It ended in separation
by mutual consent last year.

The Duchess has returned
to her father's palazzo in Venice.

This picture, of
the Duke's marriage,

how did you come by it?
Is it common knowledge?

I've had some confidential
talks with Mr. Wilder,

the Duke's secretary.
He's been most helpful.

And I suppose it
has been established

that the boy has not returned
to his mother in Italy?

Oh yes. Yes it has.

I cannot tell you, Mr. Holmes,
what a relief it is to me...

Watson?

Your picnic, sir.

Mrs. Hudson,

How did you guess?

Experience, Mr. Holmes.

Well that means the two doctors can

picnic away to their hearts content
on the train.

Even I may find my appetite is
keener for a few days

in the bracing atmosphere
of the peat country.

I think I will do myself no injustice
when I say that

the Priory School is the most
select preparatory school in England.

Lord Leverstoke,

the Earl of Blackwater,
Sir Cathcart Soames,

they all have entrusted
their sons to me.

You can't see Holdernesse
Hall from here

but there's a very fine view
from the chapel tower.

I will begin with the boy's room.

From his father?

It arrived on the morning
of his disappearance.

Had he received one from Italy?

Not recently.

Where is the letter now?

It cannot be found.

It must have been on the boy's
person when he was abducted.

Who sleeps in the adjoining room?

It's all right, just keep it in.

I know this sort of chap I dare say.

He could sleep through
a thunderstorm.

I don't think he would, sir.

Really, And why is
that do you suppose?

There's a mouse, sir,
In the Wainscot, sir.

And it wakes us both up, sir,
Sometimes, sir.

Mouse? So any noise from
Lord Saltire's room...

Well the door creaks, sir.
You always hear the door.

On the night of the disappearance,
did you hear anything then?

No, sir. You couldn't even
hear the crying.

Crying?

Yes, sir. He sometimes cries, sir.
Sometimes, sir.

Thank you boys.

You have found nothing
in the grounds?

There's no knowing what I have found.
The trail is cold.

Headmaster!

Headmaster! The Duke of Holdernesse
is here headmaster.

Thank you, Mr. Aveling.

Mr. Holmes?

Yes.

The Duke is waiting, Mr. Holmes.

That will never do.

Your Grace. Mr. Wilder.

I called yesterday,
Doctor Huxtable,

but I was too late to prevent
your starting for London.

His Grace is surprised, Doctor Huxtable,
that you should have invited Mr. Holmes

to undertake an investigation
without consulting him first.

Well I thought that
the police had failed.

It is by no means certain
that the police have failed.

Yes, but surely,
Mr. Wilder...

You're well aware,
Doctor Huxtable,

how anxious his Grace is
to avoid all public scandal.

He prefers to take as few people
as possible into his confidence.

I'm sorry, Mr. Wilder.
The matter is easily remedied.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes can return to London
by the morning train.

Hardly that, Hardly that.

I enjoy your
invigorating northern air.

I shall spend, at any rate,
a few days upon your moors.

Who knows I may at least find
Herr Heidegger's bicycle if nothing else.

This is not a trivial
matter, Mr. Holmes.

I am gratified that you
think not, your Grace.

If there was meaning in
that remark, Mr. Holmes,

I'm afraid it escaped me.

Your only child has disappeared.
Your hopes, your future,

your noble family itself
is threatened with disillusion.

Your point, sir?

I ask your Grace,

what is modesty to this
to your child's life?

Or its reputation?

Not then it might be replied
what is continuance

without honor?

However, I believe you are largely
in the right, Mr. Holmes.

If you refer to the constraints I have
placed upon the activities of the police

then perhaps I have
imposed too much.

I have a morbid fear
of the public gaze.

It would be foolish not to avail ourselves
of Mr. Holmes services, James,

now that he is here.

Mr. Holmes?

Your Grace?

Perhaps you would like to come
and stay with us at Holdernesse Hall.

I thank your Grace, but I think
for the purposes of my investigation

it would be wiser for me to remain here
at the scene of the mystery.

As you wish

Mr. Wilder or myself will be available
to provide you with

any assistance that
you might require.

Might I ask whether you have
formed any explanation

as to the mysterious disappearance
of your son?

No, sir, I have not.

He is a fine boy, Mr. Holmes.

And how long has he
been in your class?

Since his arrival here.

Did he speak much of his family?

Not much.

It's my belief that he missed his mother
this is something of his father's doing.

The separation between the Duke
and the Duchess, did he talk about that?

Not really.
It's a little mysterious.

The boy insisted that they loved
each other very much.

You don't think that he'd be whistling
in the wind to cheer himself up?

No he is a very realistic child.

Ah, but not a very
realistic family.

I was told that they were once
members of the Hellfire Club.

You wouldn't know, I suppose,

what time Herr Heidegger retired to his
room on the night of the disappearance?

Not really but quite late.

After eleven. He was duty
round master that night.

There are cyclists, I believe?

Yes, oh yes.

Did Lord Saltire
ever accompany him.

No he is not yet able
to retain his balance.

You wouldn't, I suppose,

happen to know the make of tires
on Herr Heidegger's bicycle?

Certainly. A lovely bicycle
by the way made in Bremen.

The tires were Palmer,

you know the ones with
longitudinal tread.

I know the ones. Thank you.
Doubly helpful.

Pleasure, Mr. Holmes.

Dinner will be at eight.

I beg your pardon.

Holmes?

This case grows upon me, Watson.

There are decidedly points of interest
in connection with it.

Here look at this map.

There are certain geographical features,

which may have a good deal
to do with our investigation.

This dark square is
the Priory School.

This, the main road with no side
turning for a mile either way.

To the north of the school
the land rises slowly.

To the south, a large district
of arable land with

high walls and hedgerows,
impossible territory for a bicycle.

Oh what did you
discover at Oakborn?

Well the police had reports
from all over the place

on a man and a boy
seen together.

They completed their investigation
on the sightings only this morning.

What result?

Useless.

None bore the slightest resemblance
of the boy or the German master.

Excellent!

This mass of mistaken sightings, Watson,
it confirms my suspicion.

I don't believe they used the road.

That path of curiosity of quiet places
will surely find the light.

I don't think
they used the road at all.

But the bicycle?

A good cyclist does not
need a road, Watson.

The moor is intersected with paths.
I remember the moons that were full.

Now it is to the north
that our quest must lie.

You have done well, Watson.

Dinner's soon, you'll
be happy to hear

but I have do just have one point
on which I need to be satisfied.

Herr Heidegger's room.
Ten minutes.

Mr. Holmes has been delving into
the origins of the Holdernesse family.

Like many ancient lines
it sprang from a very muddy source.

Muddy, Doctor?

Well not to be too delicate about it,
they were cattle thieves.

A warrier class, ingenious,
daring but the basis of their wealth

was running off with
other people's cows.

Holmes even tells me that
Holdenesse has furnished

one of the madder members
of the Hell Fire Club.

What is the matter,
Doctor Huxtable?

It is nothing.

But it's clearly something.

I expect too much I'm sure.
It is a full-time job.

Tell us your expectations?

I do not expect miracles.

I think I am not a man
who demands the miraculous...

but you have discovered nothing.

We haven't found not a jot
since the moment we left London.

Although indeed that is not true.

You have discovered two
things, both falsehoods.

One, a squalid piece of gossip

and the other an apocryphal and
insulting fancy

about the origins of my great patron.

I did not employ you to come here

to blacken the name of
the Holdernesses, Mr. Holmes.

Calm yourself, Doctor Huxtable.

We have in fact, found some way.

I can describe to you in some detail
what took place in this school

on that fateful night.

Also the behavior of your excellent
and faithful German master.

Faithful, Heidegger?
What, sir?

Herr Heidegger retired to his room
soon after eleven o'clock.

He was the duty
master that night.

Now my friend and colleague,
Doctor Watson, will impersonate.

Heidegger has still two hours work
ahead of him and it's been a long day.

He allows himself the comfort
of removing his jacket.

He moves across to
the chest by the door

and pours himself
a glass of sherry.

Badly needed fortification
of the task that lies ahead.

He collects the candle
and moves to his desk

to correct twenty-two
exercise books,

which contain not only Grammatical
exercises but also a lengthy composition.

You see my point,
Doctor Huxtable,

it would have been well after midnight
if he had done nothing else,

when his candle fails him.

The candles are kept in
the chest by the door.

He arises from the desk to fetch another
one but he cannot see to find them,

so he turns to the windows to draw the
curtains to see better by the moonlight.

Across the rooftops
on the gate tower

the boy has been
waiting for darkness,

knowing that his flight
must not be observed.

Herr Heidegger watches
as the boy hurries across the ledge

to keep his prearranged
meeting by the river.

Sensing the enormity of
what was taking place,

Heidegger runs to the door,

knocking over what remains
of his glass sherry as he goes.

I see.

Thank you.

It seems I misjudged you.

The wisdom of his choice to
pursue the boy is questionable.

I believe his fate may be sealed.

You'll allow me, Mr. Holmes?
Do you mean...

I hope not but if my reasoning
is correct then I do fear for him.

And the boy?

The key to that, Doctor
Huxtable, remains out there.

Beyond the Drover's Bridge.

Poor beast.

Carrion crows.

They ruin their name.

So were assuming the boy was taken
away on horseback are we not?

Certainly.

Otherwise Heidegger would not have
needed a bicycle to pursue them.

But the only tracks we've
found are cattle, Holmes.

Holmes?

Holmes?

A track, Watson!

A track.

A bicycle?

Certainly a bicycle
but not the bicycle.

I'm familiar with forty-two
different impressions left by tires.

This is a Dunlop with a patch
upon the outer cover.

Heidegger's tires were Palmers.

This is not Heidegger's track.

Who's then?

Who's indeed?

Watson!

These are Palmer tracks
Heidegger has been this way.

Absolutely extraordinary.

Dunlop tracks for a hundred
fifty yards, they vanish

and Palmer tracks quite clear
leading to these rocks,

they vanish too.

Not a sign of a horse anywhere.

Watson, you have a blazing talent
for observing the obvious.

I should have brought
some luncheon.

Anyway what was Herr Heidegger
cycling after, cows?

Presumably they didn't abduct
the child on the back of a cow.

All traces of horses obliterated.

In much evidence the two bicycles
have vanished into thin air.

Impossible.

Precisely.

It is impossible as
we have mistaken it,

therefore, in some respect,
we must have staked it wrong.

There's a hostelry mark
on the further edge of the moor.

Holmes,

there's a hostelry on
the Chesterfield Road.

Yes if he we keep on this line
we should come up to it,

Well that's where I'm going to
try my luck. I'm hungry.

Holmes?

Lunch, of course my dear fellow
you must be starving.

Now observe that map.

You will see that there's a hostelry
about three miles in this direction.

We'll need some food if we're going to
face the Duke of Holdernesse later.

Nothing?

Nothing. I must tell his Grace.

Nothing?

Nothing. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

It's locked.

Primitive but forceful
as sporting portraits go.

Mr. Reuben Hayes?

How do you know my name?

It's printed over the door.

We were looking for
some refreshment.

Were ya?

And would be obliged if
you could furnish it.

Would ya?

We would.

You must ask the woman.

Insufferable lout.

If were going all the way to
Holdernesse Hall this afternoon,

let us try to hire those unpreconditioned
beasts. What do you say?

How far are you taking them?

Just to the Hall and back,
You know the way, I dare say?

I worked there for fifteen years.

Yeah, you can take them.

My word, Mr. Hayes, you
have injured yourself.

It's nothing.

I am a Doctor, sir, and assure you it is.
You should have it attended.

How did you come by it?

One of my dogs did it.

Those scratches.

What about them?

Well at a gentler glance
they were that far apart.

What animal would
make such a scratch?

Probably a descendent
of the champion jack.

Cockfighting is forbidden by law
and has been for fifty years.

Many things are forbidden by law.
What law is there in such places as these?

Excellent, Mrs. Hayes, thank you.
What have you cooked?

Blood pudding, sweets and...

How is it, Watson?

It is disgusting, Holmes.

That woman,

she's frightened of something and
more than that husband of hers.

Deception upon deception.

What was it intended to hide?

Deception?

Oh, Watson, my horse is lame.

That's odd.

Old shoes, new nails.

Gentlemen.
His Grace will see you now.

Ah, Mr. Wilder.

Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson,
welcome to Holdernesse Hall.

His Grace will be
joining us shortly.

We are placing high hopes on your
skills Mr. Holmes. Did you bring news?

There is just one point
in which I need to be satisfied.

Yes Mr. Holmes?

It concerns the Duke's
private concerns.

As his Grace's private secretary
perhaps I can be of some assistance.

I believe his Grace
wrote to his son

upon the day this
incident occurred.

No, I believe he wrote
on the day before.

Yes, but he would have
received it upon that day.

Yes, quite probably.

Might there have been
anything in that letter

which would have prompted
the boy to run away?

Oh, I hardly think so.

Anyway he would have
run here if anywhere.

Or to his mother in Italy?

No, sir.

Lord Saltire would

realize the impossibility
of achieving such a goal.

Even it abetted by this German,

he is an intelligent
and practical child.

And yet he cries in his sleep.

Did his Grace post
the letter himself?

His Grace is not in the
habit of posting letters.

The letter was laid with
others upon the study table

and I, myself, put them there.

The only other person who would
handle them would be Rivers

who delivers the Daily
Post to the lodge.

And you're sure this
letter was among them?

Oh yes. I observed it,

And what have you
observed, Mr. Holmes?

How does your
investigation progress?

Are you to disappoint me?

I hope still to render your greater
happier and myself a richer man.

And what have you discovered?

It is mostly a matter
of clarification.

My belief is that the boy was tempted
out of the school by a prearrangement

and I suspect that his mother
may have been the bait.

The German master observed his
departure and set off in pursuit.

We tracked the passage of his bicycle
across the moors with much difficulty.

It is almost as if the tracks were
deliberately sponged by someone...

Mr. Holmes?

Someone driving cattle. You don't happen
to know if the cattle on the moor...

What about them?
I hope you have seen none.

We cannot winter cattle outside
in our upland climate.

They will not be out of the yard for,
oh at least another two weeks.

Then I've been as
blind as a beetle.

I thank you, Grace.

Old shoes and new nails!
Old shoes and new nails!

Holmes there's something
you should see!

It is a remarkable...

Do you see those horseshoes?

I saw them.

Whoever took Lord Holdernesse shoed
their horses with different horseshoes

to escape detection.

Reuben Hayes took advantage
of a piece of local history.

It's bad Watson, bad.

Those vultures of the
north mark the spot.

German master.

What's left of him.

Hello!

Hello!

Hello!

Hello, hello!

Skin and blood. Only a microscope
would tell if it's human.

A consistent no doubt to
the scratch on Hayes neck.

Cause of death?

Strangulation.
The larynx is quite crushed.

That shepherd can be our messenger
to the Priory school

with the news of this tragedy.

We must proceed on foot,
Watson. I was warm!

At that Inn,
warm as the children say.

The trail grows colder every
step I take away from it.

How was I supposed to know
where to put the body...

It's all over now, Arthur.

Reuben Hayes.
Let's hope we're not too late.

A Dunlop with a patch
on the outer cover.

What happened here, Mrs. Hayes?

I'm satisfied that you have
no liking for this business

and that you acted
under coercion.

Someone came for the boy.

The Duke's secretary,
Mr. Wilder?

Which way did they go?

Across the moor?

Aboard the Chesterfield Road
where...

Excellent, Mrs. Hayes.

I must alert the Duke's
household, Watson.

You are now the boy's
guardian angel.

I fancy I see your Grace's
checkbook upon your desk.

I would be glad if you would make me
out a check for six thousand pounds.

Perhaps it would be best
if you were to cross it.

The Capital and counties Bank,
Oxford Street branch, are my agents.

I do not possess a
temperament, Mr. Holmes

that appreciates the kind
of acidulous pleasantry

that clearly amuses you.

I am sorry, but I do
not see how James,

Mr. Wilder could possibly
be implicated in this business

and you have verged no proof of it.

But I possess the proof.
It is beyond debate.

The mud is scarcely dry on the
cloven horseshoes in your easements.

Why do you doubt my word?

You seem to suffer
from a blindness.

Your own interest, which
borders on madness.

Your Grace,

those portraits in the hall

of you and your
father as young men,

there your family
liniments are very clear,

How long has Mr. Wilder
been in your service?

What is your meaning?
How dare you, sir!

You do not understand!
You are a barbarian!

You will never... please leave
me immediately. I won't...

I-

Then it is as I suspected.

Mr. James Wilder is your son.

When I was a very
young man, Mr. Holmes,

I loved

with such a love that comes
only once in a lifetime.

I offered the lady marriage

but she refused it on the grounds
that such a match might

mar my career.

Had she lived I would certainly
never had married anyone else

but...

she died and left with one child,

James, whom for her sake
I have tended and cared for.

I could not acknowledge
paternity to the world

but in all other ways
I have treated him like my son.

He has required,
but not warranted,

a father's forgiveness
many times

and I have forgiven.
I have forgiven.

I have forgiven much.

Ah, your Grace you have done
all you can for Mr. Wilder.

You must realize that
he is lost to you.

He's conspired to
abduct Lord Saltire.

He's an accessory to a murder,
however unwittingly.

He must be found

before he's attempted to
a crime even more terrible.

He must be found

before you lose the son
that is left to you.

Rivers. You are to organize
a search of the moor.

West Woods in a line from
the temple to the pavilion.

You are to employ the entire
staff without exception.

You are looking for
my son, Lord Saltire.

If you find Mr. Wilder,

please see that he is detained

and brought to me.

Wilder intercepted your letter
and substituted a note

which deceived your son into believing
that he was to see his mother.

The murderous Hayes was
his paid accomplice

but the police have been alerted.
Hayes will not escape...

Watson?

I tracked them over to the moor
but they disappeared.

I searched the area

but it's as if the earth
just swallowed them up.

With my research into
your family history

I've seemed to recall mention
of a huge limestone cavern

where the stolen
cattle were penned.

The cathedral.

Come on.

Come on!

Hand him over.

No! You shall not have him!

Father!

Come Father!

Father! Father!

James!

I was disposed to love Francesca

and not with a boy's passion
but with a man's love.

My marriage to her
founded on James jealousy.

As long as I could see, his mother's
face and manner in him,

James knew he could
keep me from the love

I owed my wife.

Even his cruelty to Arthur,

I could not send him
away even for that.

So I sent Arthur away instead.

What did he hope to achieve
by kidnapping his brother?

Money?

Legitimacy?

And power.

Power over me.

He delighted in
exercising power over me,

for me and you were to
have denied him power.

But you suspected that he
was behind the abduction?

In my darkest moments, yes.

Yet somehow I hoped to...

save him.

Well, a long penance
it had seemed.

I can only hope that
Francesca will forgive me.

Thank you, Mr. Holmes.

Your Grace?

This is a king's ransom.

You have given me
back my future.