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I told ya.
A quick tunnel job, then up the stairs, as pretty as you please.
That's worth over ten thousand pounds.
- We're gonna be rich! - Not this time, gentlemen.
Sherlock Holmes!
Watson?
Right you are, Holmes.
Run, Archie, or we'll swing for it!
Don't let those ruffians escape!
I am Inspector Lestrade. You are under...
There's no escape, my friend.
This will be a pleasure.
- Well done, Watson. - Are you all right, Holmes?
Quite.
Which is more than I can say for John Clay,
one of London's least notorious thieves.
Inspector! I have your man.
Come on.
Well, Mr. Holmes...
I don't know how, but you've done it again.
Thank you. That's high praise indeed,
coming from such a workmanlike detective as yourself.
And now, if you have nothing further to add,
I hereby declare this case...
closed.
Good! We got kippers for breakfast.
Just a minute.
You idiot!
What?
Confound you!
What... what did I say?
What did I say wrong?
I did everything you said, exactly as you said it.
All right, what did I do?
You're not going to tell me, are you?
All right. You want to know what's wrong?
- I said I did, didn't I? - I'll tell you what's wrong.
Don't declare a case is closed...
Just a minute. My public awaits.
until I say it's closed!
- Good morning, gentlemen. - Good morning, Mr. Holmes!
- May we have a word? - Certainly.
How did you know somebody was tunneling into the Royal Gallery?
That was very interesting.
There was fresh dirt in the building next door.
Fresh dirt...
Would you like to elaborate on that?
It was an elementary deduction based on the clues at hand.
But didn't Scotland Yard see the very same clues?
I see and observe.
Isn't that rather redundant?
Describe the front of this building.
Without looking, describe the front of this house.
Well, it's brick...
it's got black railings, I think,
and windows.
- How many windows? - How many?
I don't know.
Quite so. He sees, but he does not observe.
Whereas I see and observe,
and thus bring many notorious blackguards to justice.
Hear, hear!
Did I put that reporter in his place?
Just for the record...
how many windows are there in the front of this building?
I haven't the foggiest idea.
There are fifteen windows, you fool!
Fifteen!
Not only that...
Not only that, but the reporter you just embarrassed...
he knows how to type, is somewhat nearsighted,
and recently returned from a holiday.
"And how do you know that, Watson?"
Elementary. From the creases on his wrist
where a typist presses against the table.
Do you think this is a good likeness of me?
Wonderful story, by the way,
but on page two, you have me admitting a mistake.
A writer must write of which he knows.
Do you think that's really necessary?
I mean, tarnishing the image and all that?
Hello.
What have we here?
Something's afoot.
How many times have I told you to stay away from my experiments?
Something wrong?
I seem to spend an increasing amount of my precious time
correcting your blunders, both private and public!
I see. It's the Clay case.
You still in a snit over that?
Well, if you want my opinion...
I beg your pardon? Opinion, did you say?
Oh, my God. Not that speech again.
May I remind you, for your information, sir,
that your opinions are my opinions.
Oh, piffle.
I created the character of Sherlock Holmes,
and hired you merely to play the part...
snatching you from the gutter.
Hardly the gutter, old boy.
After all, I was once an actor of note.
Whose last play ran a total of one-half of one performance.
I'll have you know Shadow of Death
with Reginald Kincaid
was a towering work, decades ahead of its time.
Lesson number two. Advanced Bowing.
My only regret was that it ended before the climactic third-act duel.
Too bad you didn't have a chance to see it.
I've no use for theatrical swordplay.
All I ask is that you obey a few simple rules,
not the least of which is,
a case is not closed until I say it's closed.
I think you underestimate my own native deductive abilities.
Do you hear those footsteps?
I'd say this was a woman about five-feet-five,
weight about twelve-and-a-half stone,
age fifty-four. Voilą.
Blown yourself up again?
It's for you... your Baker Street Irregulars.
Hello, boys.
Wiggins, give it back.
Just tryin' to earn a living.
We heard you was looking for us, Doctor.
Yes, there's been some trouble
concerning the break-in at the Royal Gallery.
What?
We heard that Mr. Holmes declared the case closed.
That will prove, after some creative writing,
to be merely a ruse on Mr. Holmes's part.
Something's not right... John Clay does not deal in works of art.
I need you boys to have a look around... eyes sharp, ears quick.
A copper apiece for your trouble, and a shilling for what you learn.
We'll do our best, won't we, lads?
Don't let us keep you, boys. Come on... out.
Don't worry about a thing.
We know how much you could use some real assistance.
You're making a laughingstock of me. How can I be...
How can I be expected to maintain a character
when you belittle me in front of those hooligans?
Are we talking of the same man who once declared
that the late Colonel Howard
had been bludgeoned to death by a blunt "excrement"?
Is it my fault you have such poor handwriting?
Anyway, it was just a little mistake.
He's been at it again.
- I never liked that woman. - Come in, Mrs. Hudson.
I found it under a loose board in the stairwell.
Thank you.
An occasional libation enables me to stiffen my resolve.
Your resolve should be pickled by now.
I don't believe that either of you realize what pressure I'm under!
Do you know what it's like to commit to memory
a never-ending list of clues and deductions
to be parroted back to Lestrade and reporters?
Blood stains on a toothpick? Cigar ash?
New soil in the garden next door?
Endless twaddle!
Twaddle!
Are you referring to the systematic gathering of evidence
and the logical deductions based thereon?
I am referring to twaddle!
You would be well served
to include fewer of these dreary details in future chronicles,
and place greater emphasis on me.
I am, after all, the one the public really cares about.
Would you be so kind as to excuse us for a moment?
Careful, Watson! Remember your blood pressure!
And good riddance to bad rubbish, I must say.
Am I to understand that you are giving me notice?
Let's just say that the curtain has come down
on yet another miserable performance.
Right.
I was once a figment of your imagination.
But now, Sherlock Holmes belongs to the whole world.
At last we're free of that ungrateful baggage!
From now on, things are gonna be much more pleasant around here.
An actor?!
Nothing the matter, nothing at all.
Back to work.
Hold my calls.
We'll start at the beginning...
shall we?
It was about nine years ago.
One of my patients was a Scotland Yard inspector
investigating the Paxton murder case.
I gave him the name of the murderer,
but gave credit to a nonexistent detective.
At the time, I was hoping for an appointment
to the staff of a rather conservative medical college.
I knew that they'd frown on my little...
- Hobby? - Exactly.
Well, I didn't get the appointment.
Instead, what I got was a quite unanticipated public demand
to meet this Sherlock Holmes.
So you hired this Reginald Kincaid.
He was an actor.
Unfortunately, he was also a gambler, a womanizer,
and a drunkard.
John, you have jeopardized the integrity of English literature.
Still, I should have known.
He was always borrowing large sums of money off me
and never paying me back.
The cad.
Don't worry. We deducted it from your royalties.
- Who else knows of this? - No one.
Except Mrs. Hudson and the Irregulars.
But it's time now for the public to learn the truth.
The truth?
Certainly.
No one will want to read of that twit again.
His popularity will plummet.
They'll be desperate for my new creation.
What new creation?
John Watson, the Crime Doctor!
I could have it ready for your very next issue.
Sit down, John.
People buy the Strand magazine
expecting to read a story in which Sherlock Holmes
solves the case, not the Crime Surgeon.
Crime Doctor.
Crime Doctor, Crime Surgeon, Crime Dentist...
who cares, really?
Let's face it, John,
Sherlock Holmes is worth a fortune to the magazine.
You're stuck with him.
Norman, I'll write what I want. There's nothing you can do.
The devil there isn't.
You can't go in there!
What is this?
Sorry, Doctor, but we found something. Down by the docks.
- Excellent! - Hello, ducks.
If you'll excuse us, we have work to do.
Do you work here?
Watson, I'm warning you...
it's Sherlock Holmes, or we'll sue you for everything you're worth!
And I mean everything!
Anyone seen my watch?
- There it is. - Camden Paper Mill.
Burned about four this morning.
- Same time as the Clay robbery. - On the button.
Good lad! Now we're getting somewhere.
Let's take a look around.
Went up like a torch, they say.
Well, it's full of wood pulp and paper, you see?
I'm sorry, sir. No one's allowed in this area.
Quite all right, I assure you. I'm Dr. John Watson.
Nobody's sick here.
You don't understand.
- John Watson. - The Crime Doctor.
That's right. John Watson, the Crime Doctor.
Crime Doctor? Never heard of him.
Though your name sounds a bit familiar.
All right.
I am Dr. John Watson...
author of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries.
The Sherlock Holmes?
Me and the wife has read every one of his stories.
All right. Now, if you'll excuse me...
I'm sorry, I still can't let you in. Strict orders about that, I'm afraid.
But Mr. Holmes... did he send you here?
He certainly did not!
Well, perhaps the next time you should check with him first.
Save yourself a trip.
You try and fight crime in this city,
and all you hear about is Sherlock Holmes!
"What's he like? When will you see him next?"
Never, that's when! Never!
Doctor, dear, keep your voice down.
- Why should I? - Because you have visitors.
Inspector Lestrade and a Lord Smithwick.
Of the Treasury?
Gentlemen, won't you come up?
Oh, yes, thank you very much. Mr. Holmes is in, is he?
Dr. Watson will see you,
although he is quite busy with his scholarly pursuits.
Gentlemen.
Good afternoon, Inspector.
This is Lord Smithwick,
Her Majesty's Chancellor of the Exchequer.
My pleasure, sir.
His Lordship wishes to see Mr. Holmes.
I'm sorry to say he's not here at the moment.
Oh, how disappointing!
As I said before, I really don't think
Mr. Holmes's involvement in this case is necessary.
- I quite agree. - You do?
However, the Crime Doctor is at your disposal.
Who the deuce is the Crime Doctor?
What?
Most amusing, but this is a matter of the gravest urgency.
When do you expect Mr. Holmes?
Not for a while. He's out of town.
Good afternoon.
Well...
too bad.
I'm sure we'll be able to get along quite well without Mr. Holmes.
Wait!
Today's Friday, isn't it?
Of course it is. Silly me.
Holmes is supposed to be back tonight.
How fortunate.
Very well. We shall return at seven tonight.
Come along, Inspector.
Till then, gentlemen.
- We've made this trip for nothing. - I must ask you once again...
Where did you get that hat?
Where did you get that tile?
Isn't it a knobby one? It's just the proper style
I would like to have one just the same as that
Where'er I go, they shout Hello!
And where'd you get that hat?
Where did you get that hat? Where did you get that tile?
Good evening.
Have you seen Peter Bright? He's disappeared.
Hello, Connie.
All right...
Who did it?
Come on... which one of ya pinched me?
- Pinched, you say? - That's right.
May I be of... some assistance?
The name is Holmes... Sherlock Holmes.
Constance Peyton, sir. Pleased to meet ya.
Charmed.
Now, let's see...
By careful observation of the patrons of these premises,
I have been able to deduce the identity
of the fiend who pinched you.
Me. Did it again!
- Thank you, my good man. - Thank you, sir.
I'll make this brief.
I'll need to see some money. It's been five days now.
- Now, see here, my good man... - Go ahead, sir, it's on me.
Thank you, sir.
- How are things? - Couldn't be better.
Good health.
I'll meke this braif.
I'll make this brief... I want you to come back.
Like I predicted... you need me.
I do not need you.
Then what are you here for? I didn't call for you.
All right, I need you... for this one blasted time.
One time, and that's all? You're gonna have to do better than that.
Don't push me. You've already run out of money.
This is because you lack the necessary skills
to gain decent employment.
Wrong, Watson.
I have been honing my ability of elementary deduction
to a razor's edge... observe.
Excuse me, sir.
How are things on the subcontinent?
I beg your pardon?
You are a reporter just back from India, are you not?
I'm a barrister, and I've never been to India in my life.
- But you do read the Times. - Of course.
There you have it.
My card.
I'll ask you just once more. Are you coming with me or not?
I would rather waltz naked through the fires of hell.
I can see coming here was a mistake.
Excellent deduction. Keep up the good work.
Gentlemen. And what can I do for you?
A mystery to be solved?
You might say that.
There's a little matter of a gambling debt.
The mystery is why you ain't paid it.
Gentlemen, you are dealing with Sherlock Holmes,
a man of honor and character beyond reproach.
There he is!
That's the bloke who pinched me bum!
Pardon me! Pardon me!
Excuse me, luv.
- Didn't I say seven o'clock? - Forgive me for being late.
Is Mr. Holmes with you?
Well, actually, Lord Smithwick,
a short time ago I received a wire from Holmes
instructing me to take down the details
and begin the investigation... without him, as it were.
- What? - Believe it or not,
I am every bit Holmes's equal as a detective.
I happen to know that you recently recovered from an illness,
that you smoke a pipe... probably rosewood...
and you spent time in China.
This is no time for parlor games.
This is a matter for professionals.
You gotta help me! There's two big men...
You're back! So good to see you!
Isn't this a clever disguise? A drunken lout... very realistic.
This woman said I pinched her bottom...
Pinched her bum! Ha ha!
Gentlemen... Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
It's good to see the department is letting you out at night again.
Trouble at the Exchequer?
Well, to be honest...
Wait... how did you know?
The same way that I can tell you've recently recovered
from an illness, smoke a pipe... probably rosewood...
- and have spent some time in... - China.
Amazing!
Thank you.
Before we start, perhaps a little sherry?
I wish we could,
but the matter which brings me here
involves the fate of the entire Empire.
I see. Perhaps a whiskey, then?
Perhaps later.
Tell me the details, and omit nothing.
- Watson, pay close attention. - Do you know what these are?
- I do. - So do I.
Plates for the Bank of England's five pound note.
- Undoubtedly. - Or very good imitations.
- Precisely. - Exactly.
Indeed.
That's cleared that up. How about that whiskey?
- May I? - I suppose so.
Just two nights ago, these clever forgeries
were exchanged for the genuine plates.
If the real plates are in the hands of some foreign power...
Or someone even more treacherous,
the kingdom could find itself awash in counterfeit notes.
And I don't have to tell you what that would mean.
Yes, you do.
It would mean, quite simply, economic ruin for England.
Nobody would know which five pound notes were real
and which weren't.
Gentlemen, I accept this case.
My fee will be five hundred pounds...
payable in ten pound notes.
Good evening.
We can all rest a little easier now, Inspector.
Drive on, my good man.
I don't suppose it would make any difference
if I said I have grave doubts about Mr. Holmes.
I must confess,
I feel a bit prouder knowing Sherlock Holmes is British.
Do you suppose he took the case, Professor?
Watson?
My dear boy, how could he resist?
This is working out so very well.
Driver.
Gentlemen... I am here.
Mr. Holmes, at last!
Welcome to Her Majesty's Royal Mint.
This is one of my long-time employees, Mister...
- Hadlers, sir. - Hadlers, yes.
Inspector Lestrade was inquiring about the vaults.
It's my guess that it's an inside job by someone with a key.
You have a key, don't you, Hadlers?
Me? No!
Inspector, please. Mr. Holmes will take over now.
It's quite all right.
As a matter of fact, Lestrade,
- you can be of some help. - Of course.
Hold my coat. It's hot in here.
So this is where the printing plates are kept.
Very interesting...
No harm done.
Tell me, how many people have access to this vault?
Three persons only...
myself, the Commissioner for Seals and Engravings,
and the printing supervisor, Peter Giles.
I should like to speak to this, uh, third person.
He didn't turn up for work this morning.
We've already done some checking on this Giles.
He is a widower, with one child named Leslie.
I've seen her once or twice, myself.
A very pretty girl, in an unusual sort of way.
- Pretty? - Oh, yes, sir. Quite.
Watson, make a note of that.
Though Mr. Giles himself seemed slightly uncomfortable
when I complimented him on her appearance.
Surely you can't believe that Peter Giles was involved!
The man's worked here for over thirty years,
and he was very religious, too. Wouldn't you say so, uh...
Hadlers, sir.
Oh, yes. He was always quoting from the Psalms.
The Psalms... one of my favorite books.
The... Bible, wasn't it?
I suppose you'll want to speak to this Peter Giles.
I've never been one for religious talk, myself.
On the other hand, no leads must be overlooked.
You can rest assured, your Lordship,
we shall be investigating the daughter, as well.
I must be going.
Come here! You ninny, what are you doing over there?
Amazing fellow, really.
All right, now go! Go!
Open this door!
Giles, open the door. It's Sherlock Holmes.
Stand back, I'll break it down.
Half a tick, Mr. Holmes.
You can't go walking into someone's residence,
pokin' about their personal possessions,
disturbin' their privacy.
That's for Scotland Yard.
Anybody home?
Nobody home.
- You're treading on the mat. - Sorry.
Nice, tidy little place.
- A French postcard. - Really?
I knew a chap who collected these once.
He had this wonderful one of two women...
- Oh. It's just the Eiffel Tower. - Quite a bit of correspondence there.
I'd say Giles hadn't been home for several days.
Anything of interest in that card?
It says, "Having a gay time here, but need a holiday.
Will see you on Monday. L."
I wonder who that can be?
"L"... is that an old friend? A secret lover?
It's my guess it's his daughter Leslie.
I'll wager you're right.
That's right... let him deduce everything.
When Lestrade returns, go about your sleuthing routine.
The full treatment?
Whatever it takes to keep him occupied while I look around.
It would appear as if Mr. Giles has taken a holiday.
I expected no less.
If you'll allow me.
- Very interesting up here. - Excuse me.
My word.
Don't touch that!
There may be fingerprints.
The book of Psalms...
As I anticipated... the Bible.
All starting to fit together rather neatly, I'd say.
Stay with me, Lestrade.
Investigating crime calls for the searching out of patterns.
Now, take the patterns in this carpet.
Rosettes and what appears to be cherubs.
Is that a cherub?
What have you there?
Oh, this.
I just found this in the fireplace.
Careful. Might be evidence.
Really?
"E-R-M-E-R-E."
What do you make of it?
Are you blind, Lestrade? Tell him, Watson.
Correct me if I'm wrong,
but this piece of paper is part of a map.
A location.
Emere...
Cashmere...
Windermere! Lake Windermere!
Brilliant!
The lake district is a perfect place to hide.
Nobody goes there this time of year.
We'll wire Windermere
and see if Giles has made his appearance yet.
And don't you worry, Mr. Holmes...
we'll have this case wrapped up in no time.
Unique, actually.
- So much for the great detective! - Very creative, Watson.
Something that would never have occurred to the likes of me.
Imagine... a Sherlock Holmes adventure
in which Lestrade solves the bloody case!
Calm yourself.
There's a healthy chunk of mystery yet to be solved.
It's to Windermere for us,
where, I assure you, the game is still afoot.
Where, I assure you, the game is still afoot.
"As was his habit, Sherlock Holmes
sat in the railway carriage, lost in thought."
You must be a millionaire...
Are you Sherlock Holmes?
I am indeed, madam. Would you like my autograph?
You put me old man in jail, you did!
"From these moments of quiet, intense reflection
"would inevitably spring
some new insight."
Stop it, you silly girl!
Go on back!
Sorry about that.
- What are you doing? - Thinking.
Right.
I'm gonna think, too.
What shall we think about?
Allow me to introduce myself.
I am the Right Honorable Gerald Fitzwalter Johnson,
Lord Mayor.
This is my daughter Christabel.
Hello, Mr. Holmes.
We're enthusiastic readers of your articles in the Strand.
My daughter, in particular, reads each one several times.
Don't even think about it.
I believe we have something for you.
A man matching Mr. Giles's description arrived two nights ago.
This is Andrews, a dock worker here on the lake.
He remembers the man quite well.
Andrews, this is Mr. Holmes, come to our fair community
to investigate a matter of great importance.
You may begin, Mr. Holmes.
What makes you remember this man so clearly, Mr. Andrews?
- I remember this man... - Your hat.
I remember this man so clearly
because he was carrying a brown leather suitcase.
The suitcase was fastened to his wrist with a pair of silver handcuffs.
It was very heavy,
and he commented on the weight several times.
- He asked Donald Ayers... - A local boatman.
a local boatman, to transport him across the lake
to a cottage he had rented.
Make a note of that.
I'm sure Holmes would like to speak to this boatman,
Donald Ayers.
Yes, indeed.
The thing of it is, no one has seen the fellow
or the man with the suitcase since that night.
You mean they've gone missing?
My theory, if you'll permit me, is this...
the storm may have done both of them in.
- They went out in a storm? - Watson, please.
They went out in a storm?
The lake can get very rough at this time of the year.
Here we are, our finest hotel... the Shakespeare Arms.
We're all so proud to have you here.
The duke's absolutely beside himself.
- The duke? - Uh, the d-o-g.
- Sherlock Holmes and Doctor...? - John Watson.
Now, if you'll just follow me,
I'll have your luggage taken upstairs.
Stay down, now! Sit, boy, sit!
Now, then, Dukie, you stay down here
while I take the gentlemen upstairs.
He's taken quite a fancy to you.
He doesn't like everybody, you know.
Fetch!
What he likes is the summer,
with all them ramblers!
The King Lear Room... the finest we've got.
Yours is upstairs, Doctor.
Be careful of the carpet... the mice have been at it.
We call this the Hamlet Room,
and it does have a lovely view of the lake.
Now, if you'll excuse me, Doctor...
Watson.
I'll just go and see if Mr. Holmes is all right.
Would you mind swapping rooms with me?
I once played King Lear, and, quite frankly,
that room would revive memories of rotten fruit.
One room's the same as another to me.
Thank you.
What a dreary place this is.
Excuse me, but you are Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?
That depends.
Do you have a relative who was recently sent to prison?
Me? Why, no.
Yes, then. I am Sherlock Holmes.
We could all consider it an honor if you'd have a drink with us.
A drink.
I was just saying to my good friend Dr. Watson here
what a lovely village this is.
I'll have a double whiskey.
Just to ward off the chill of the evening.
A double whiskey for Mr. Holmes, please.
A toast... to the greatest detective in all the world.
Thank you, gentlemen. I am touched.
I can vouch for that.
You remind me of someone I once encountered
during the curious affair of the Manchurian Mambo.
Could I have a word?
I believe that was the Manchurian Mamba.
Mamba, mambo... what's the difference?
Very little, other than one is a deadly poisonous snake,
and the other is a rather festive Caribbean dance.
It was a night just like any other, when someone knocked at the door.
I opened it, and there were these Manchurians
doing this rather festive Caribbean dance.
Manchurian Mambo...
Steady, Watson.
Just get through it one more time,
then you're rid of the fellow.
What a pleasant thought.
I feel much better.
Quite euphoric!
as the snake struck at me,
I danced out of the way.
And if it hadn't been for my flawless footwork,
I'd be standing here a dead man today.
What about another drink?
I have to be up early tomorrow, and I need all my wits about me.
Perhaps just one more.
Holmes, sweet Holmes.
You're not the Hound of the Baskervilles, you know.
Fresh air... that's what I need.
That's better.
Help!
Help me!
Watson, wake up!
Help!
My God!
Hang on, I'm coming!
Hang on, here I am!
Quickly!
Give me your hand.
- Are you there? - Yes, I'm here.
Well done.
Pull, quickly! Pull harder!
Don't let go!
Well done.
Jolly good.
Oh, shit!
Fascinating... this railing appears to have been cut by someone.
Get him off!
Good morning, gentlemen.
This is the cottage Giles leased from a company in London.
Allow me to show you the way.
Mr. Mayor, don't move!
Not until Mr. Holmes has had a chance
to inspect the area for clues.
By God, I've trained you well, Watson.
Now follow me closely.
- What am I looking for? - Footprints.
Right.
- Have I found any yet? - No, not yet.
Let me know when I do.
Hello? Anyone at home?
If Giles was headed here...
it's obvious he never arrived.
They've found Donald Ayers.
Who?
Dreadful!
Stand back, lads. Leave it to me.
Constable, please.
Not until Mr. Holmes has had a chance
to investigate the body for clues.
Yes...
it is my opinion that he is dead.
He's a genius!
Thank you.
Here you are. Two first-class tickets to London.
Well, Mr. Holmes, any theories?
Indeed. Obviously Giles and Ayers were caught in a storm
too far from the shore to swim for it.
And with that heavy suitcase attached to his wrist,
and the lake being so deep...
Quite. Pulled the poor wretch to the bottom.
Struggling futilely,
flailing desperately
as the cold, black water sealed his fate forever.
Well, it's certainly been a laugh.
Thank you very much.
We must be off. Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Mayor.
The same, Doctor.
Now... now...
We know for a fact that Giles was on the boat.
No, we don't.
Oh.
Well, we do know for a fact that Giles arrived at Windermere.
No, he didn't.
He didn't? I thought he did.
Well, we really know that Giles
was behind the theft of the printing plates.
No, he wasn't.
Fine.
Just trying to get things straight.
Tell me something...
is there anything we do know for a fact?
Yes.
What?
That without a doubt
there is an evil mastermind behind all of this.
Professor Moriarty?!
Oh, for God's sake.
You didn't tell me that homicidal maniac was involved in this!
Because I knew you'd behave this way.
Bravo! Another triumph for deductive reasoning!
Don't you think you're overreacting?
Pardon me.
Wasn't I the one he tried to kill last night?
Merely a technicality.
- Maybe for you, mate. - Think, man...
Who was supposed to sleep in that room?
That's true... you were!
Moriarty knows I'm the only match for his evil genius.
Are you sure he's not trying to kill me?
Of course not. He knows you're an idiot.
Thank God.
Whoa, there. Steady.
Stand. Here you are, miss.
Thank you.
It's all very nice, miss.
Miss Leslie Giles?
Yes?
Dr. John Watson, at your service.
And this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
But what do you want with me?
The government suspects that your father has stolen
the printing plates for the five pound note.
What?
They also believe he is at the bottom of Lake Windermere,
drowned like a rat.
Father...
- Get some water, please. - Of course.
Father...
Sorry for the fright, Miss Giles.
Unfortunately, you fainted before Holmes could add
that he personally believes your father not only innocent, but alive.
Really?
Holmes believes your father has been abducted.
Abducted! By whom?
Abductors.
You see, Miss Giles,
your father was described to us as fanatically neat...
a fact confirmed by the immaculateness of this very place.
I took the opportunity to have a look around,
and it is extremely tidy.
One must ask, therefore,
why such a compulsively neat man would leave an unmade bed,
unless he was snatched from that very bed.
Oh, dear God.
Then a man posing as your father was sent to Windermere
where a mock drowning was staged,
unfortunately costing the life of an innocent boatman named Ayers,
forcibly drowned.
- Murdered. - Why?
Why, you ask.
Because...
Fill in the details.
Because someone wanted us to believe
that your father and the printing plates
were lost at the bottom of the lake.
Thus Scotland Yard and that poor, misguided fool Lestrade
would foolishly believe that the case was closed,
leaving the true villain free
to wreak havoc with the economy of the Empire.
All quite... elementary.
Let me go!
Have courage!
You're not getting away that easy!
Put me down!
You don't know who you're dealing with!
My name is Sherlock Holmes!
Look out!
Sorry about this, Miss Giles.
- Hurry! - My bleeding shoe!
- They're gone. - I know. I chased them away.
You brave, brave man.
Danger is my trade... but not yours.
It's unsafe for you to sleep alone tonight...
unattended.
Yes, we insist you stay with us.
- But surely I'd be an imposition. - Think nothing of it, my dear.
Indeed, Holmes will be working all night anyway,
so you can have his room.
Interesting... of Italian manufacture.
What?
This shoe... brand-new.
Yes, very interesting.
Do you think... do you think she's ready for bed yet?
And if I'm not mistaken,
caked with mud mainly found in the vicinity of the Thames.
The Thames, yes. Poor girl.
Poor, beautiful girl.
Some sleep would do her good.
I can picture her lying there, her eyes closed, gently breathing.
Her breasts heaving...
as her supple, nubile young body...
caresses the cool, limpid sheets...
Yes, the Thames it is.
Near Southwark... interesting, isn't it?
To say the least.
Why would common ruffians be wearing imported shoes?
Not secondhand, mind you, but brand-new.
- What was that? - What?
If it's not one thing...
Oh, I'm sorry.
I suppose I must be still rather nervous.
You may rest easy. No one will disturb you tonight.
- Isn't that so? - Quite.
- Good night. - Good night.
I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were still asleep.
Sleep? Who can sleep when there's work to be done?
- Dr. Watson seems to have gone out. - Really?
I wonder where.
Who knows?
He has very little patience with detective work.
Often becomes quite bored.
Your job must be very difficult.
One does get rather... tense.
I can imagine.
The hardest thing...
is to find ways to relieve that tension.
So, you play the violin.
Only if worst comes to worst.
Well, I really don't want to add to that tension,
so I think I'd better go and finish getting dressed.
No, please, I assure you...
An occasional break is quite refreshing.
My mind thrives on diversity.
What? What?
How many times have I got to tell you to knock?
Have you no respect for people's privacy?
Right! You've gone quite far enough,
overstepping the bounds of propriety.
Come along, my dear. You'll be much safer with me.
- We'll have tea downstairs. - Now, there's a good idea.
You have visitors.
Such carryings-on, and in the middle of the day.
This is a respectable Presbyterian house, I assure you!
Take no notice. The woman drinks a bit.
Come in, welcome.
Good morning.
I've informed Lord Smithwick of the findings in Windermere.
Though the case did not turn out as we hoped,
Her Majesty did insist on rewarding you for your efforts.
Who am I to go against the wishes of the Queen?
Stunning, isn't it?
I'm overwhelmed.
Pity you had to go all the way to Windermere
merely to confirm my theories.
Think nothing of it. If I hadn't gone to Windermere,
I could not have confirmed my theories...
namely, that your theories are completely wrong.
- What's that? - This is utter nonsense.
He refuses to accept that I solved this case before he did.
Giles is dead, the plates lost, case closed.
Neither Giles nor the plates were ever in Windermere... case open.
- Really? - What?
Well, gentlemen, I see Holmes has taken you into his confidence.
Did he also tell you
that we expect to conclude this case within three days?
I'll let you fill in the details, Holmes.
Let me assure you, Lord Smithwick,
that come... Friday, you shall have your plates.
You must succeed
before news of the theft leaks out
and causes widespread panic throughout the Empire!
Steady, sir.
That is exactly why the Empire now more than ever
needs all of us to remain calm and composed.
You're right, of course. We must remain composed.
- Composed. - And calm.
Friday? Are you out of your mind?
Steady on. You've made some excellent discoveries this morning.
Get your coat on. We have a cab waiting.
- What discoveries? - For one thing,
the Royal Mint purchased its paper from the Camden paper mill.
You make these things up, don't you?
Those men were here about my father, weren't they?
Oh, good morning.
Is there any news, anything at all?
Sadly, no.
But take heart. Last night something occurred to Holmes,
and he suddenly realized how stupid he'd been.
Really?
- I didn't exactly say "stupid." - Yes, you did.
And now he's off to continue the investigation.
- Perhaps I could come, too. - Ah. Now...
The moment he knows anything, he'll tell you.
- Thank you. - Cabbie.
What's that?
A reply to a telegram I sent late last night.
You might let me in on the joke, old boy.
In due time.
Cabbie, stop.
You was dead right, Doctor!
All of 'em, just sittin' there waitin' for customs.
Wonderful! Just as I thought!
Hop in, lad!
Driver, Southwark docks!
Thanks, guv'nor.
Wiggins.
Here they are.
- We found 'em here this morning. - Wonderful.
All these crates full of imported shoes.
And the ship?
Got in this morning from Germany. Two days late, she was.
Excellent. You've done well, my boy.
We'll take it from here.
Picture it...
two, three, maybe four of Moriarty's henchmen
waiting here under cover of darkness for that ship.
But it's delayed.
They wait. They become bored.
Being men of no moral fiber whatsoever,
they can't resist helping themselves to a new pair of shoes.
Do you think they have these in brown?
I hate Italian shoes.
Moriarty.
- Moriarty? - Without doubt.
- This one. - All right.
What's "tinte"?
German for "ink."
He smuggled it in to avoid the attention of Scotland Yard.
Marvelous.
He already has the paper he needs.
He got it from The Camden Paper Mill...
burning the place to the ground to cover the theft.
The John Clay case was staged simply to throw me off the scent.
What's the German for "pen"?
What's all this?
Blast!
You can't be movin' things about.
It has to be cleared through customs.
Sorry, Professor. We thought the dock was deserted.
Sorry, indeed.
I went to all this trouble...
for the sake of discretion.
Then you allow this to happen.
Well?
Do you have your revolver with you?
Yeah, somewhere.
Come on.
Let's not be all day about it.
Here it is.
Now, I'm gonna let you have some bullets for it.
Try not to shoot yourself...
at least, not until I give the signal.
Moriarty.
Damn.
What am I doing here?
Nobody told me Moriarty was...
- Holmes! - What?
Come on!
Die, Moriarty.
Idiot!
Come on!
They can't follow us down the canal.
How demeaning to be set upon by nitwits.
What are you doing?
Damn!
Look out!
No luck, Sergeant.
- Anything? - No, sir.
The tide may have carried the body miles downriver.
Is it true?
I'm afraid it's true.
I am so sorry.
He was such a good man.
I can't believe he's gone.
I know it's difficult at such a time,
but if it's any consolation, we still have Mr. Holmes.
Did I say something wrong?
I seem to have overestimated the amount of rope required.
One more thing I've botched.
What would Dr. Watson say?
He'd have volunteered to kick the chair out from under me!
He would not!
He said this was gonna be our last case together.
You mustn't blame yourself.
You can still avenge the doctor's death
by capturing this Moriarty and rescuing my father.
Oh, what a good idea.
While I'm at it, I'll bring in the Loch Ness Monster.
I don't understand!
I am not a detective. I never solved anything.
Dr. Watson did.
You're just upset.
I couldn't detect horse manure if I stepped in it.
Please, Mr. Holmes!
Sorry.
- Another one? - Yes, please.
Stop.
Perhaps not.
I'm afraid my grief... has exceeded my resources.
- It's on the house. - Thank you, Henry.
Thank goodness!
Mrs. Hudson said we might find you here.
We want to offer you our condolences.
Pity about Dr. Watson.
I trust, however,
it will have no bearing on the outcome of the case.
What?
You vowed to solve the case by Friday.
Well, you see,
the fact of the matter is, you see, Lord Smithwick,
is... Dr. Watson...
I believe what Mr. Holmes is trying to say
is that it was Dr. Watson who first made that pledge, and...
with all due respect,
I'm sure he did not fully understand the complexities of the case.
As I have tried to point out to Your Lordship,
Her Majesty should rely on the counsel
of trained criminologists such as myself.
Though well-meaning, the good doctor was...
no detective.
As I was about to say, Lord Smithwick,
Dr. Watson was decidedly precise
in his estimate of the closure of this case.
Have no fear...
you shall have the plates in your hands come Friday.
What?
The game's afoot!
Dr. Watson always said,
start by listing everything you know.
So, let us begin.
Number one.
Moriarty.
Isn't he wonderful?
He is behind all this, that's one thing we know.
Very good. Progressing nicely.
Now, the next thing we know... number two.
This might take a while. I'll get some tea.
What?
All right...
let's go back to number one.
Perhaps the clue is in Moriarty's name.
Clever people often do that.
Amity...
rarity...
I've got it!
His real name is Arty Morty!
What the hell am I talking about?
I found a five pound note floating in the river.
Lucky you.
But it's only half printed!
I suppose it's only worth two pounds-ten, then.
Everyone knows the normal five pound note
carries a serial number which contains five digits.
- Six digits. - Six digits.
This one contains only three.
- Two-three-four. - What's that mean?
Her father's a printer, ain't he?
Maybe he's trying to tell us where he is.
What can these numbers mean?
Could be a measurement... an address!
- An amount! - A page number!
Did your father have a favorite book?
He did!
- The Bible. - Yes.
I have a Bible. It's at my bedside.
Is there something on page 234?
Page numbers vary from Bible to Bible,
but chapter and verse is the same in every Bible.
Did your father have a favorite book of the Bible?
Yes, he did.
The book of Psalms.
Psalms 23rd, verse four.
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of...
the shadow of death."
Does that mean something?
That means... the Orpheum Theater.
What are you talking about?
I'm sorry, but I just don't understand.
The Shadow of Death.
The gripping drama was the last play presented at the Orpheum.
It closed after only one night, but not without garnering some praise.
Harris, in the Daily Telegram. Said, "In an otherwise dismal evening,
Reginald Kincaid provided some welcome laughs."
Laughs? You said it was a gripping drama.
It's unimportant now, isn't it?
Are you sure you know what you're doing?
- Cab! - Oh, dear.
The Fleet River runs under that part of town.
The Orpheum Theater stands right on top of it.
You could be on to something.
There's tunnels and caverns running all under there.
- Just a moment! - We haven't got a moment!
Wiggins, fetch Scotland Yard.
Let me, Mr. Holmes.
I'm sure they'll be much more inclined to listen to me.
Good idea. Wiggins, on the back.
The Orpheum Theater. We haven't a moment to lose!
I kind of liked you better when you was a coward.
The stage door's round back. Go ahead.
- You go ahead. - Wiggins, go ahead.
Here ya go, gents.
Here you go, my good man. You may keep the change.
A fiver? God bless ya, guv'nor!
Think nothing of it. I print my own.
"Print me own"... that's a good one.
Still, we can't afford to waste them.
We shall move the barge out at high tide.
I shall miss this place... somewhat.
Go around front.
When the police get here, tell them what happened.
Right you are.
And...
the best of British luck to you both. You're gonna need it.
And don't move until they get here!
Up we go.
- Hold on to that. - Slowly.
Where are we?
Don't kick the...
- bucket.
Let go.
Are you quite serious?
Do you do this kind of thing on purpose?
Listen.
It's nothing, Professor. Probably rats.
Ah, yes... rats.
I think...
I think it's louder over here.
It might...
I am so dreadfully sorry.
On the contrary,
I think we're making very good progress.
There's a hole in the wall.
I'm not stayin' around here.
Blimey.
Well, well.
The ink's not dry yet.
There's more paper line over here.
Hand over.
You've done a splendid job, Mr. Giles.
The Queen herself could hardly tell the difference.
However...
this one seems to have been only half printed.
It was found on the bank of the river.
I've got a pussycat
And I'm very fond of that
A reject.
Must have slipped away.
And the tide carried it out.
The tide, that's all.
Suppose we have a look at this reject.
Shall we?
Two-three-four...
Oh, yes. Clever.
How many of these rejects accidentally slipped away?
Well, I...
No matter.
Shame that the only person capable of deducing your clue
is currently lying at the bottom of the Thames.
What are you doing here?
I told you to keep an eye on that imbecile!
- He may yet stumble onto something. - He has.
They know all about this place.
Luckily for you, they sent me to fetch Scotland Yard.
- All right, no Scotland Yard. Fine. - What now, Professor?
No need to panic.
I need a good plan.
Attack!
Attack with what?
That's no good.
Start packing!
In spite of this latest piece of foolishness,
you've done your job well.
Your reward will be a quick and relatively painless departure.
Not so fast, Moriarty.
I've been waiting hours for your arrival.
- Thank God you're here! - Please, my dear.
Ingenious, planting a spy in our midst.
That staged attack at Giles' was quite realistic.
However, a cable to France revealed a rather unique fact
about the real Miss Giles...
something of an embarrassment to the Giles family, I should think.
Perhaps you would like to meet the real Lesley Giles.
Lesley!
All right, back to the first plan...
attack.
Pity you won't be able to share my greatest triumph...
the forcing of an empire to its knees.
But you will be allowed to see these two die...
before you.
Right!
Don't anybody move.
Otherwise, there'll be an impromptu roasting.
Has it occurred to you, Mr. Holmes,
that if you set fire to that money,
you will burn to death yourself?
You will burn to death yourself?
Of course it has.
Put out those flames!
Don't just stand there!
Look out!
- I thought you were dead. - You may yet be right.
I'm not done with you yet!
- Put sand on it! - Bring more buckets!
- Get some water in here! - Clear those boxes!
Leave this to me.
There, there, my dear.
We're in a tinderbox!
What was that?
You cowards!
- Professor, the gas mains! - What?
They could blow in the heat!
Keep them pinned down. I'll get the plates.
It's all over now, my pretty one.
You're disappointed, aren't you?
Hell!
Brilliant.
Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?
Rock of ages
Cleft for me
Let me hide
Myself in thee
Rock of age...
Go on, hurry up!
- Get movin'! - Come on, George!
- Let's get out of here! - The back door!
It's safe, Professor.
Come on.
This is an escape, not a cakewalk.
Oh, please... don't wait for me, will you?
Mercy me!
Oh, my dear...
that must have been so painful!
Hello?
All right...
There he is!
- You hold them off. - Just like I told ya.
Oh, my head.
It's all right, dear. It's still there.
- Sorry, Mrs. Hudson. - Watson, there's a fire down here.
It became necessary for me to stage my death
so I might work unobserved for a few days.
And I must say, you've caused quite a bit of grief.
You needn't bother with her... she's an imposter.
She's not Leslie Giles? Then who is?
I am.
There you have it.
Ladies and gentlemen...
you seem to be blocking my exit.
Kindly step aside.
Remove these people from the stage.
They're locked.
Ordinarily I do not bother with half-wits and buffoons.
Buffoon, is it?
Buffoons, is it?
- He'll be killed! - I quite doubt it.
He's in his element now.
I warn you... I've killed as many as six men in a week.
Eight, if you count matinees.
"The brilliant swordsmanship of Reginald Kincaid...
...was almost worth the price of admission,"
raved the critic of the...
Cotswold Press.
All right, put your shoulders to it, men.
Let's have it down. The rest of you, round the back.
He really is quite good.
- Follow me. - Follow him, lads!
Trying to be funny, eh?
Hold on! Don't anybody move!
The authorities are here!
Stay where you are, everyone.
Get down!
Right.
I have killed before,
and I can assure you I have absolutely no compunction
about doing so again.
You are not dealing with an amateur, you know.
Well played.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends.
You're alive!
Astounding observation, Inspector... we must discuss it.
Well done!
Stand back!
I'm about to bring the world's greatest criminal to justice,
and nothing's going to stop me!
Have you forgotten the gas mains?
More pressure! Come on, boys!
More water! Come on!
Congratulations!
Her Majesty wishes to offer you her sincerest appreciation
for a job well done.
And you too, Dr. Watson.
Mr. Giles tells me that you both deciphered the clue.
I doubted if anyone would understand it.
Child's play.
- 23rd Psalm. - Shadow of death.
Elementary.
No, no, no... I was referring to the serial number... 234.
The address of the theater... 234 Beacon Street.
Amazing!
Don't worry, I'll fix it in the story.
The arrests were made, and the rest of the story you know.
Don't mean to toot my own horn, you understand.
Nice bit of work, this. But as I was telling Miss Giles,
had it not been for the timely arrival of Scotland Yard,
I doubt things would have turned out so well.
Of course, I realize you would never admit such a thing.
On the contrary.
Indeed, Holmes was telling me how indispensable you were.
- He was? - As a matter of fact,
it is to Lestrade, and Lestrade alone,
that you owe your deepest gratitude.
Really?
Miss Giles is on the stage, you know, in Paris.
A revue called Les Femmmes Faux.
An actress... what a surprise.
There's more surprises yet to come.
Good morning!
Excuse me, sir. Is it true that Moriarty is dead?
Never assume, gentlemen, never assume.
How did you know where Moriarty was hiding out?
It was an elementary deduction based on the clues at hand.
But how is it that Scotland Yard did not...
Perhaps...
Perhaps Scotland Yard did not have the invaluable assistance,
the keen insight
and the extraordinary patience...
of Dr. John Watson.
My friend.
Hear, hear!
Now, gentlemen and ladies,
I have an announcement of some consequence.
With the safe return of the plates to the Royal Mint,
I must inform you
that this is my last case.
Sherlock Holmes is retired.
Surely not, sir. That cannot be!
Is it possible?
Of course it's not possible. Mr. Holmes is merely pulling your leg.
Aren't you?
Sherlock Holmes retire, when there is murder and mayhem at every turn?
Already several adventures have begun to take shape
which can be solved by no one else. Right?
Right you are.
And so, without further ado,
I hereby declare this case...
closed.
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