All language subtitles for S07E19. The Curious Case of the Countless Clues.English

Careful, Gardiner.
Don't smudge those prints.

I won't, sir.

Well, it's quite clear the murderer
entered through here.

From the balcony. These muddy prints
fix the time between 10 and 12.

(Gardiner) Uh-huh.

Size eight shoes,
suggesting a man of medium height,

around 140 lbs, wouldn't you say?

There's no doubt about that.

Our victim's a non-smoker.

So this shows that the murderer
is definitely a man of means.

(Sniffs) Havana number seven.

You're a wonder, sir.

Every indication of a struggle

during which he lost a button.

Victim shot in the chest.
Death instantaneous.

- It certainly looks that way.
- Mm. A brutal killing.

Oh, dastardly, sir.

(Front door opens)

Quick!

- What the ...?
- Reginald Hubert Dawson?

- Yes.
- The occupant of this apartment?

Yes. Who are you? What's happened?
Has there been an accident?

No, sir. A murder.

A mur...

But who's been murdered?

You, sir.

I can't see where it's broken.

It's not broken. It's just bumped, bruised
and badly dislocated. Otherwise I'm ...

Perfect. That's a perfect tibia.

And a perfect astragalus.

How did you get this?

The doctor propped me up in front
of a machine and pushed a little button.

- The accident. How did it happen?
- Oh, the accident!

Well, I was swishing
down the upper slopes

when this careless but handsome
Italian crossed my path.

- I hope he said sorry.
- Scusi, actually.

I don't suppose it was serious, what with
your remarkable powers of recuperation.

And your bedside manner.

(Phone rings)

Must be one of my anxious friends.
They've been ringing up all day. Hello?

Oh, just a minute. It's for you.

Thank you. Hello?

Oh, yes, Sir Arthur. What?

Right away?

Very well. If you say so. Goodbye.

Sir Arthur Doyle, he's in trouble.

Isn't he with Scotland Yard?

- Not exactly.
- What then? Security?

No, Sir Arthur's ... He's a sort of ...
Well, he's kind of ...

I really must ask him.

He fell just here.

Reginald Hubert Dawson.

- Ministry official?
- No.

- Secret agent?
- No.

Man of absolutely no real importance.

I see you walked
through the park this morning.

Your shoes carry a film of pale-blue dust
peculiar to that area.

This blossom from the Tibetan
mountain cherry near the gate.

- Deduction, Steed. Deduction.
- I see you've changed your secretary.

The last one was brunette.

Seduction, Sir Arthur?

The murderer entered through here.
The window.

These muddy footprints
fix the time between 10 and 12.

Size eight shoe. That means
that he was approximately 140 lbs.

And then ... there's this.

(Steed plays violin)

Havana number seven.

And the victim was a non-smoker.

Ah, exactly! Exactly!

The murderer was a man of means.

Ah, definitely. Definitely.

And incredibly careless.

Ah! Huh?

He seems to have left everything behind
except for his name and address.

It was unpremeditated.
There was a struggle.

This button came off in the struggle.

Then he took out his .38 revolver and ...

Which he just happened to have with him
in case he felt like killing someone.

What's this about, Sir Arthur?

This is a routine police matter.
Why send for me?

- Sir William Burgess.
- Willy asked for me?

I know he's a cabinet minister
and industrialist, but I hardly think ...

- You're missing the point.
- Which is?

The fact is after the killing

a Rolls-Royce was seen speeding away
from the scene of the crime.

A witness glimpsed
part of the licence number.

WB.

We checked the Rolls-Royces with that
number and one belongs to Sir Burgess.

So?

We can't send the policeman to one
of our leading cabinet ministers to ask,

"What were you doing between the hours
of 10 and 12 last night?"

It comes better from a friend.
Casual enquiry.

From an old friend.

(Guffaws)

Not your day, Willy.

Something troubling you?

Trouble? What do you mean?
What on earth makes you think that?

- I meant you seem to be off form.
- Don't I now?

It'd have been better if I'd dropped
by yesterday evening. Where were you?

Between 10 and 12 o'clock?

Between 10 and 12,
I had a breakdown on my way home.

I was there the whole time
and I have a witness to prove it.

Your word's enough for me, Willy.
More than enough.

Heh. Sorry, Steed. Edgy.

Ministerial meetings, you know.
Working too hard.

Whatever happened to your grandfather?

- The portrait by Horsborough.
- It's being restored.

Look, Steed, do you mind
if we call it a day? I am very tired.

No, of course not. Perhaps
I could call you sometime next week.

- Who's that? Ever seen him before?
- No.

There's too much at stake
to take chances.

Follow him.
Find out what you can about him.

Right.

(Sighs)

- I see you had a visitor, Sir William.
- Just a casual friend.

I hope so.
One word to the authorities and ... well ...

I haven't spoken to anyone.

Believe me. You have my word.

Well, it's this I came for.

I want your signature.

We must keep it legal.

- So naturally you went to see Burgess.
- Naturally.

Naturally. And?

- He had an alibi.
- Naturally.

Unnaturally,
he was nervous and on edge.

- But you can't think that ...
- Of course not.

- I mean, William Burgess is ...
- As you say.

- It's unthinkable.
- Unthinkable, yes.

- It's completely out of the question.
- Completely.

- On the other hand ...
- Yes?

- There is just the possibility ...
- Just.

Hm.

We'll have to check that story
about his breakdown.

I don't like doing it. Willy and I are ...

Whoops!

(Chuckles)

Well, instead of just sitting here,
I'll go and make some enquiry.

See if Burgess could
have known Dawson.

- Hang on to the coffee.
- I'll keep it till tea time.

(Earle over radio) 'Where are you?'

I've followed Burgess's visitor.
His name's Steed.

'Forget him.
We've more important things to do.'

'Flanders, remember?
Our next victim.'

OK.

- Good afternoon, Mr Flanders.
- Good afternoon.

I'm terribly sorry.
I'm terribly sorry. How stupid of me.

No, no, no. That's quite all right.
Don't worry about that. That'll brush off.

- Are you sure you're all right?
- Quite sure, thank you. Thanks.

Newspaper.

(Engine splutters)

(Birds chirping)

- Am I glad to see you.
- What's the trouble, sir?

Well, I was driving along
and she just packed up on me.

Ah, it sounds like a fuel blockage to me.

Well, don't worry.
We'll soon have you going.

How's it going?

Try her again now, sir.

(Gunshot)

- Hi.
- Greetings!

Ooh!

Apples from the sun-kissed
orchards of Kent.

Keep the doctor away.

Thank you. For at least two weeks.

Hey, they're not ripe yet.

Not ripe yet?

Is that the way to accept
the solicitations of a friend?

"Not ripe yet"?

Do you suppose that when Eve
approached Adam on that creative day

he said "not ripe yet"?

So, that's the way you view the situation?
A sort of Garden of Eden?

Well, you must admit
they look very attractive.

Never mind. Here is something
that's been ripening since ... 1957.

You're in a good mood.

Well, there's good news.

I checked Willy's alibi and a garage
did give assistance to a Rolls-Royce

between 10 and 12.

Oh. Oh, dear.
Is that why we're celebrating?

Yes, that's why ...

So William Burgess did know Dawson.

I checked.

Reginald Dawson used to work for
an organisation called Acme Enterprises

and Acme Enterprises is owned by ...

- Willy Burgess.
- I'm sorry.

(Phone rings)

I'm sorry. Allow me.

Thank you.

Hello?

Yes. Just a minute please.
For you, my lord.

Hello? Sir Arthur ...

Another? Where?

Yes, I'm on my way.

- Another delicate matter.
- Mm.

- Oh, Steed?
- I'll call you later!

The victim fell just here.

Chap named Scott. Shot through
the heart with a .308 rifle bullet.

- Sporting.
- Huh?

A .308 sporting rifle.

Ah, yes. The murderer
entered through those trees.

We've got some excellent footprints
and a number of vital clues.

A handkerchief, a button ...

Another careless killer.

Ah, if they didn't make mistakes,
we'd never catch them, would we?

You mentioned a delicate situation.

Yes.

Extraordinary coincidence,

but after the killing,
a car was seen speeding away.

A Bentley. A witness just glimpsed part
of the number plate. The letters F-L-A.

You checked all the owners?

- One of them, Robert Flanders.
- The financier?

You were close to the family
at one time.

- Well ...
- Or rather close to Flanders' sister.

- Hey ...!
- I hope you're not suggesting ...

Of course not! No, indeed.
Not enough evidence.

Just the same, old chap.

Have a discreet word with Flanders.

Find out where he was
between three and four o'clock yesterday.

- I'd be awfully grateful.
- All right.

Splendid! Capital!
You'll find Flanders at his country house.

That's new. The Valdesco.

Yes. I daren't tell you what it cost.

But I wouldn't part with it.
Not at any price.

- I thought everything had its price.
- That's a fallacy!

What price freedom? Honour?
Reputation?

Good sound advice, hm?
That's why I came to see you.

I've been offered some shares today.
Quilton Investments.

To buy or not? Yes or no?

- No.
- Enough said.

Is that all?

All? With one word,
you've saved me a small fortune.

And believe me,
mine is a small fortune.

(Chuckles) Well, you know where I am.
You should have rung me up.

I did. You're very elusive.

Oh?

As a matter of fact I nearly ran
into you just outside Crawley.

It must have been between three and
four yesterday. You were whizzing along.

It wasn't me. I wasn't whizzing anywhere.
The car broke down.

- The car broke down?
- Yes.

It does happen, you know. Even
to the best and most benign machinery.

I hope someone came and helped you
in the nick of time.

Why, yes. As matter of fact they did.
It was a breakdown truck. A coincidence.

Quite.

I see you've got rid of your .308.

Not likely. It's up at the hunting lodge.

My favourite gun. It's adaptable.
You can shoot almost anything with it.

- Well, I sincerely hope not.
- What do you mean?

Well, thank you very much
for your advice, Bobby.

I hope I haven't taken up too much
of your time. We must meet again.

- Yes, we must.
- No, I'll see myself out.

I'd recognise that sylph-like
silhouette anywhere.

- John!
- Hello, Janice.

How very nice to see you!
Especially looking ...

Well? Happy? Contented? Bored?

As lovely as ever.
It really is very good to see you.

I don't suppose for one moment
it's me you came to see.

It's brother Bobby, isn't it?
Business?

Bobby. Business.

- Which reminds me if you'll forgive me ...
- You really must go.

- I knew you'd understand.
- I don't.

You see? It can't be coincidence.

First of all he was at Burgess's place,
then Scott's cottage and now here.

- Yes, we may need to deal with him.
- Right.

No, Gardiner!

We'll put our own techniques
against him, like Burgess and Flanders.

- OK.
- We need to find out more about him.

But first things first. Bobby Flanders.

- (Earle) Mr Flanders?
- Yes?

My name is Earle.

We haven't met, but we did bump
into each other a while ago.

Oh. I'm so sorry,
but I don't remember.

No, you wouldn't.
But I stole your handkerchief.

Perhaps you'd care to read that.

The account of a rather nasty murder.
A man named Scott.

Note the description of the wanted man.

Could be you.

Shall we talk inside?
So much more comfortable.

Extraordinary, isn't it?

All the clues point to you.

Cigar butt.

Your brand.

Your kind of handkerchief.

And the button I took from your coat.

You're mad! Quite mad.

Foresighted. Merely shrewd.

You see, Mr Flanders,
crime these days rarely pays.

The scientific evidence
soon seeks out the criminal,

so I have turned a drawback
into a virtue.

I have made you a murderer.

Do I make myself clear?

You've tried. Attempted to build up
some evidence to involve me in a killing.

We have pointed
the finger of suspicion at you.

I advise you to hear me out!

The murder weapon.

Where your scheme falls apart.

The murder was committed
with a .308 rifle.

You own such a gun.

Exactly.

And Ballistics will conclusively prove
that my gun did not kill this man.

On the contrary, Mr Flanders.

Ballistics would conclusively prove
that your gun did kill him.

We borrowed it from your hunting lodge.

You clean all your own guns,
so it still has your prints on it.

Only yours. We kept them intact.

What about my motive?

This man, Scott.
I've never even met him.

Oh, but you have. He was
an accountant with your company.

Some years ago.

A tenuous link, but a link nevertheless.

It's blackmail of course.

You hand over the Valdesco,
we'll return the rifle.

The vital, the incriminating evidence
is removed forever.

According to this, the murder was
committed at about four o'clock.

3:57 to be precise.

In that case, Mr Earle,
I think you're in for a bit of a surprise.

A very nasty surprise.

(Dialling tone)

Hello. Is that Sanders garage?

Yes, sir. Can I help you?

Yes, you certainly can.

My name is Flanders. We met yesterday.
You were kind enough to give me a hand.

The gentleman with the Bentley?
Oh, yes, sir. I remember perfectly.

Come over right away?

Well, yes, sir. I think I can do that.

Good. As soon as you can.
I'll be waiting.

Steed.

He's gone?

- Who's gone?
- The man who isn't there anymore.

- What?
- He was following you.

- Following me? Where?
- Wherever you went. Where did you go?

- I went to Bobby Flanders'.
- Oh.

Oh! The one with the sister!

Bobby seems to be in the clear.

Did you see her?

Yes. Got the same alibi as Burgess.

A breakdown van, a helpful mechanic.

In here.

I hope you don't bruise too easily.

- (Clears throat)
- Ah, come in.

Kindly tell this gentleman where I was
at about four o'clock yesterday afternoon.

I beg your pardon, sir?

I'd like you to confirm
that I broke down along the A10.

The A10?
That's not even in my area, sir.

But you ... you fixed my carburettor.

You remember me surely?

Sorry, sir. I've never seen you before.

But you said you remembered me.

- I telephoned you and you said ...
- The usual, Stanley?

Thank you, sir.

Just a touch of soda.

He's not very good at repairs,
but ... excellent at alibis.

He can either be for you
or against you.

- Keeps a jolly good brandy.
- Well, naturally.

You know I only do business
with men of taste.

They have so much more to offer.

So very much more.

This has always been a favourite of mine.
I never dreamt one day I might own it.

Take it! Take it and get out of here!

Oh, we will. We will, Mr Flanders,
but not without a bill of sale.

We don't want you
retracting later on, do we?

And a bill of sale
makes it all nice and legal.

So if you don't mind ...

Remember, not a word about this,
Mr Flanders.

Not one word.

We'll see ourselves out.

Good afternoon.

Bobby?

What's the matter?

Nothing.

Everything's fine.

Another one?

You scoundrel! You blaggard!

Unmitigated.

We made a bargain. I gave you the
painting, you were to hand over my gun.

- That was before.
- Before what?

Before I had a fancy
to own another Horsborough.

This one.

Yes. Definitely this one.

Masterly brushwork, don't you think?

The details around the eyes.

Put that down.

Put it down and get out of my house.

I hope you know what you're doing.

I'm doing what I should have done
when you first showed your nose in here.

Start with a blackmailer
and you never stop him.

I'm sorry to lose that picture.

Still, it's nothing
to what you're going to lose.

I'm gaining.
Regaining my self-respect.

And losing your freedom!

- Trouble.
- For us?

For Sir William Burgess.

(Rings)

It's for you.

Well, it's bound to be.

Hm.

- Hello? Yes?
- (Burgess) 'Steed?'

Listen, Steed. I lied to you.

What about?

The murder. Dawson's murder.
I want to confess.

Sit tight, Willy.
I'll be right over. Quick as I can.

(Sighs)

- Sir William?
- Wants to make a confession.

(Car approaching)

(Doorbell rings)

(Front door closes)

Are you
Sir William Henry Benedict Burgess?

Oh, now come off it, Arthur!

Are you
Sir William Henry Benedict Burgess?

You know very well who I am.
We've played golf together for the past ...

I am arresting you for the wilful murder
of Reginald Hubert Dawson.

In as much as on the 12th of this month,

between the hours of 10 and midnight,

you did with this ...

... a .38 revolver,

shoot down and wilfully kill
the aforesaid ... er ...

- All right.
- I haven't finished.

The sooner we clear up
all this business, the better.

But I haven't finished the charge.
I haven't finished!

Oh, come on, Arthur!

I must warn you that anything you say
may be taken down and used in evidence!

There we are.

That takes care of Sir William.

He's getting to be a nuisance.

Have you prepared a dossier on him?

It'll be easy. Use the girl.

Tara King.

Well, that's what we'll do then.

After we've talked to Flanders.

Another pretty picture, Gardiner.

Another pretty picture from Mr Flanders.

When I signed that bill of sale,
you promised to return my gun!

And so we will!
After you have handed over this.

One picture!
That was the arrangement!

(Earle) That was the arrangement.
(Flanders) No! Do you hear? No!

But Willy Burgess on a murder charge?

What did Sir Arthur have to say?

Elementary, my dear Steed.

And all those clues –
buttons, footprints, cigar butts.

- And the gun.
- Well, that clinches it. Willy's own gun.

- Complete with fingerprints.
- Then there's Flanders.

- But he's got an alibi.
- I think you better sit down.

I checked. He could have known
the murder victim.

Scott once worked for him.
Same old story.

Coincidence?

(Door buzzer sounds)

It's not locked!

John ...

Janice, what's wrong?

- It's Bobby. Two men are threatening him.
- Easy. Calm down.

Now ...

It's Bobby.
I think he's being blackmailed.

- By whom?
- Two men at the house now.

I've enjoyed our difference of opinion,
even if it was lengthy.

Nice that you've seen sense at last.
Very nice.

My gun! The rifle!

Will be returned to you in due course.

In due course.

John, the men are leaving.

Oh, look at that texture. I'll be sorry
to put this one up for auction.

Well, I think this calls
for a small celebration, don't you?

- It's dead.
- I'll get a bottle of wine.

(Chokes)

Well, I wouldn't like you
to choke to death on a cheap cigar.

I'll give you just enough air
to stay alive

and tell me who was behind all this.

(Gasps)

Three breaths. That's enough.

Now talk.

(Gasps)

I think it's ... about time we ...

You're right. It is about time.

We'll get rid of Mr Steed.
Dispose of him immediately.

(Groans)

(Engine starts)

(Engine splutters)

Seems to be having a spot of trouble.

Heh, heh. I wonder why.

That takes care of Steed.
Now let's get going.

We mustn't keep the victim waiting.

Do you know? I didn't fancy the others.

But Miss King ...

(Engine starts)

- Having a spot of trouble, sir?
- Yes. I haven't a clue what's wrong.

Not much of a hand with cars.

Well, perhaps I can help. Er ...

(Stanley groans)

Who's the victim?
Who am I going to murder?

(Gasps)

Who am I going to murder?

(Groans)

It was Miss King.

Miss Tara King.

I just hope you don't turn out
to be a girl's best friend.

Where is he?

(Grunts)

I'll tell your boss you got the sack.

That's her place.

Patience, Gardiner.

We have Steed's accessories.

Let's make use of them.

(Phone rings)

Hello?
Oh, Steed, thank goodness you called.

Stop talking and listen.

Now in words of one syllable,

your life is in danger.

Someone is trying to kill you.

What?

Just shut your doors, bolt your windows
and don't move till I get there.

(Groans)

(Phone rings)

Oh! (Gasps)

Steed?

Hello? Who's there? Hello?

(Breathes heavily)

Hello?

(Earle hangs up)

(No dialling tone)

(Groans)

(Banging)

(Groans)

(Groans)

(Groans and pants)

(Moans)

(Grunts and pants)

(Sighs)

(Door buzzer sounds)

(Pants)

(Knock on door)

(Lock rattles)

(Footsteps retreating)

(Lift shuts and descends)

(Groans)

(Lock rattles and door creaks)

(Groans)

(Pants)

(Gasps)

Yes, you were right, Gardiner.

She is the sort of woman
a man would kill for.

Oh! Or kill!

A crime passionel.

It will make an interesting variation.

(Yelps)

Gardiner, watch her.

Now the charade.

The circumstances
leading up to your death.

At the hands of John Steed.

(Cork pops)

A quiet tête-à-tête.

That's how the evening began.

That fatal evening.

Steed arrived at, shall we say,
eight o'clock.

Entered.

Placed his hat and umbrella ... here.

Earrings?

Earrings.

I think you might've worn a hint
of sparkle for him. That subtle touch.

Gardiner ...

I wonder what would've
happened next.

Thrown your arms around him?
Kissed him perhaps?

Or talked about the weather.

No, no. Not the weather.

Put them on.

Charming.

Quite charming.

- You lost it during the struggle.
- But why should Steed want to kill me?

Who knows? A tiff? You had both
been drinking. Perhaps too much.

(Glass shatters)

Who knows why Steed killed you?

The fact remains that he did.

His gun, you see.

(Glass smashes and shatters)

There.

Music, Gardiner.

OK?

- (♪ Jazz music plays)
- Just right.

Gardiner?

- (Music stops)
- The scene of the crime.

And one last ingredient.

The corpse.

(Grunts)

(Pants)

(Groans)

- Miss King.
- Oh, there you are. Had a good day?

Oh, fair to middling. How about you?

Nothing to speak of.

Come on down. I'll tell you all about it.

Right.

(Gasps) Steed!

Oh, no!

Scissors.

Scissors.

(Shipping)

Tweezers.

Tweezers.

Needle.

Nee... Needle.

Thread.

Thread.

Well?

The operation. Is it ...?

Successful.

You've done it then!
Another first for Great Britain!

The first ever "brim-graft".

Good as new.

- How's your ankle then?
- Mended.

(Chuckles)