All language subtitles for Sherlock.Holmes.-.2x02.-.The.Greek.Interpreter.english.DVD.en

Mr. Cretites?

...Paul Cretites.

My name
is Latimer.

I've come to meet you,
Mr. Cretites.

Just come this way,
Mr. Cretites.

We have
a carriage waiting.

During my long and
intimate acquaintance

with Sherlock Holmes,

I'd never heard him
refer to his relations,

and hardly ever to his
own early life.

Because of this reticence,
I sometimes found myself

regarding him as an
isolated phenomenon

as deficient
in human sympathy

as he was pre-eminent
in intelligence.

I'd come to believe
that he was an orphan

with no
relatives living.

But one day, to my
very great surprise,

he began to talk to me
about his family.

My singular gift
of observation introduction

may have come from
my grandmother,

who was a sister of Bernais,
the French artist.

The art
in the blood

is liable to take
the strangest forms.

For example,
my brother, Mycroft.

Your brother?

I didn't know you
had a brother?

Oh, yes.

And I can
assure you,

he possesses a far
greater faculty

of observation and
deduction than I do.

Holmes, I know that
you are a modest man

Ha-ha.

My dear Watson,

I cannot agree
with those

that rank modesty
among the virtues.

To the legation,

everything should be
seen exactly as it is.

And to underestimate
one's self

is as much a departure
from the truth

as to exaggerate
one's own ability.

What I have just told
you about my brother

is the exact
and literal truth.

Well, naturally,
I don't doubt your word.

But if there is another
man in England

with such
singular powers,

how is it that neither
the police nor the public

have ever heard of him,
let alone myself?

He's very well known
in his own circles.

Where then?

The Diagones Club.

It is the oddest
club in London,

and my brother one
of the oddest men.

I suppose you
wish to meet him?

Well, of course I do,

even if it's just to
prove that he exists.

Then you shall,
this afternoon.

He has come across the
most singular problem,

which he thinks
might interest me.

But why does
Mycroft not use

his great powers
for detective work?

If the art of
the detective began

and ended in reasoning
from an arm chair,

my brother would be the
greatest criminal agent

that ever lived.

What is to me a means
of livelihood

is to him the merest hobby
of a dilettante.

But he has no ambition
and no energy.

What is his
profession, then?

He has an extraordinary
faculty for figures.

He audits the books

for some of the
government departments.

But what are
the qualifications

for the Diogenes Club?

Shyness and misanthropy ...

my brother is one of
the founding members.

It contains
the most unsociable

and clubful men in time
who speak not a word

and shun even
the merest glance.

Now, let us enter.

Yes, but ...

Not a word.

Holmes, have you ...

We can talk
in here.

Well,
thank goodness.

Look at those
two men, Sherlock.

What do you
make of them?

The brilliant marker
of the other.

Precisely.

What do you make
of the other?

An old soldier,
I perceive.

And very
recently distraught?

Served in India,
I see.

And a non-commissioned
officer.

Relativity,
I fancy.

And a widower?

With a child.

Children, my dear boy,
children.

Ha-ha.

Mycroft Holmes.

Glad to meet you,
Dr. Watson.

I hear of
Sherlock everywhere

since you became his...

Well, thank you.

For anyone who wishes
to study mankind,

this is the spot.

But surely you were
taking things

a little too
far just now?

It is not hard to say,
Watson,

that a man of
that bearing,

and especially
of authority

and some big
skin as a soldier

is more than a private,

and is not long
for India.

That is not long
since left the service

shown by his still wearing
his ammunition boots,

as they're called.

He has not
the cavalry stride,

but he wore his hat
on one side

as is shown by
the lighter skin

on one side
of his brow.

His weight is against
him being a sapper.

He is in
the artillery.

There goes his complete
mourning shows

that he has lost
someone very dear.

The fact that he's doing
his own shopping

looks as though
it was his wife.

He's been buying things
for children,

as you can see.

There is a wrap, which
shows that one of them

is very,
very young.

And the fact that he has
a picture book under his arm

shows there
is another child.

Aha, Mr. Merlas.

Come in, sir.

These are my friends.

This is Dr. Watson,

and this is my younger
brother, Sherlock.

You're Mr. Sherlock Holmes?

I've asked Mr. Merlas
to step across.

He lodges on the first
floor above me,

and I thought you'd be
interested in his story.

He's the reason why I
asked you to call today.

Mr. Merlas,

he came to me, well...

But I think I shall ask
Mr. Merlas to tell

his own very
remarkable experiences

in his own fashion.

Thank you,
Mr. Holmes.

For many years,

I have been the chief

Greek interpreter
in London.

I do not think that the
police believe my story.

On my word,
I do not.

Just because they have
never heard of it before,

they think that such
a thing cannot be.

But I know that I shall
never be easy in my mind

until I know what has
become of my poor man

with a sticking plastered
up on his face.

Sticky...

Mr. Merlas,
please sit down.

Thank you, Mr. Holmes,
I prefer to stand.

Watson.

I am all attention.

All this happened
only two days ago,

on Monday night.

I am Greek
by instruction.

And earn my living
as an interpreter.

It often happens that I'm
sent for at strange hours

by foreigners who would
get into difficulties

or by travelers who
would arrive late

and wish
my services.

Mr. Merlas?

Yes?

I apologize for
this intrusion,

but I need
the services

of an interpreter
immediately.

My name
is Latimer.

Immediately?

I wouldn't insist unless
it were urgent,

but a Greek friend of
mine has just arrived

in this country
on business matter.

Unfortunately,
he speaks nothing

but his own tongue.

I likewise so.

Mr. Merlas, please.

My carriage is
waiting outside.

How far away?

Only to Kensington.

I'm sorry to have to cut off
your view, Mr. Merlas,

but the fact is, I have
no intention that you

should see the place
to which we are driving.

It might possibly be
inconvenient to me

if you were able to find
your way back again.

This is very extraordinary
conduct, Mr. Latimer.

You must be aware that
what you're doing

is quite illegal.

It is somewhat
of a liberty, no doubt,

but we'll make
it up to you.

For nearly two hours,
we drove,

without my having the least
idea as to where I was.

Did you not
notice any change

of sound under
the wheels?

I listened,
Mr. Holmes.

Sometimes we seemed to
be on a paved causeway,

sometimes on asphalt,

but there was nothing
to tell me where I was.

And no other sounds ...

a ship's siren
or church bell?

I'm sorry,
nothing like that.

At what time

did you finally reach
your destination?

Ten minutes to 9:00,
exactly.

Is this Mr. Merlas,
Harold.

Yes.

Well done,
Ha Ha Ha,

well done.

No ill will, Mr. Merlas,
I trust,

but we could not
get on without you.

If you deal fair with us,
you'll not regret it,

but if you try any tricks,
God help you.

What do you
want of me?

Only to ask
a few questions

of a Greek gentleman
who's visiting us,

and to let us
have the answers.

But, you say no more
than you are told,

or it were better you had
never been born.

Mr. Merlas,
pray continue.

Well then, this man,
this evil man,

showed me to a room
which appeared to be

very curiously
furnished.

But again, the only light
was afforded by a single lamp,

half turned down.

The slate, Harold.

Are his hands loose?

Take this.

You will ask the
questions, Mr. Merlas,

and he will write
the answers.

Ask him,
first of all,

whether he's prepared
to sign the papers?

"Never."

On no conditions?

He writes,
"only if I see her married

in my presence by a Greek
priest, whom I know."

Ha Ha.

You know what
awaits you, then?

He says, "I care
nothing for myself."

And so it went on,
again and again

I had to ask him whether
he would give in

and sign
the document.

Again and again, I had
the same indignant reply.

But soon,
a thought came to me.

I took to adding on little
sentences of my own

to each question,
innocent ones at first,

to test whether either
of our companions

knew anything
of the matter.

And then, as I found that
they showed no sign,

I played a more
dangerous game.

This obstinacy
is doing you no good.

He says,
"I care not."

In fact, he had
also told me

he was a stranger
in London.

He then told me he had
been here three weeks,

and was being
forcibly starved.

Starved?

Did you manage to
find out his name?

Cretites.

He was from Athens.

But that was all I could
discover, unfortunately.

Another five minutes,

and I should
have wormed out

the whole story under
their very noses.

Ask him again,
Mr. Merlas.

But at that instant,
the door opened,

and a woman stepped
into the room.

He says, "never."

Well, ask him again!

Harold, I could not stay
away any longer.

Sophia,
Sophia, Sophia!

That will do,
Mr. Merlas.

As you perceive,

we have taken
you into our confidence

over some very
private business.

Here are five sovereigns,
which will, I hope,

be a sufficient fee.

But remember, if you speak
to anyone about this,

one human soul,
mind, well,

may God have mercy
on your soul.

As before, I was taken
in a closed carriage

for almost
two hours.

There I was abandoned, as
I was later to discover,

near Wentsworth Common.

I did not know
where I had been,

nor whom I had spoken
with nor anything,

saving what
I have told you.

But I know there
is foul play going on,

and I want to help
that unhappy man ...

before God, I do.

Mycroft.

Mycroft!

Huh?

What steps have you
taken so far?

Well, this was in all
the daily papers:

"Anyone having information
as to the whereabouts

of a Greek gentleman
named Paul Cretites,

who cannot speak English,
will be rewarded.

As ever a reward will
be paid to anyone

having information
about a Greek lady,

whose first
name is Sophia, "

but no answer
as yet.

What about the
Greek Legation?

I have tried.

They know nothing.

The head of the Athens
police, then!

Sherlock has all the
energy in the family.

When you take up a case,
by all means,

let me know
if you do any good!

Certainly.

Mr. Merlas, sir.

I should be
extremely careful,

if I were you,
but of course,

through these
advertisements,

they'll know that you've
betrayed them.

Whoops.

On your way.

It seems to me obvious that
this Greek girl has been

carried off by
the young Englishman,

Harold Latimer.

Carried off from where?

Athens, perhaps?

No, no, no ...
this Harold Latimer

cannot speak a word
in Greek.

The girl speaks
English fairly well,

inference that she has been
in England some little time,

and he has not
been in Greece.

Thank you
Miss Jackson.

Then, let's presume
that the girl

was visiting in England
and that this Harold

persuaded her to
fly with him.

That is
more probable.

Then the brother, that
must be the relationship,

comes over from Greece
in order to intervene,

they see him,

use violence to force him
to sign some documents,

making over the girl's
fortune to them.

He's probably
the trustee.

This, as we have heard,
he refuses to do.

So far.

But these men
will not stop now.

Whatever happens, Watson,
we must find them.

How can we?

Well, if our
conjecture is correct,

and the girl's name is ...
or was ... Sophia Cretites,

we should have no
difficulty in tracing her.

That must be
our main hope.

The brother, of course,
is a complete stranger.

Come in,
Sherlock.

Come in, sir.

You don't expect such energy
from me, do you, Sherlock

... hmm?

Now, How did you
get here?

I passed you while you were
in the telegraph office.

I had an answer
to my advertisement.

It came within a few
minutes of your leaving.

And what effect?

It is written with a Jay
pen on royal cream paper

by a middle-aged man
with a weak constitution.

"Sir, in answer to your
advertisement of today's date,

I beg to inform you
that I know the young lady

in question
very well.

If you should care
to call upon me,

I could give you
some particulars

as to her
painful history.

She's at present
at Memerkle's Beckinum.

Yours faithfully,
Jay Davenport."

He writes from
Lower Brigestone.

Do you not think we
should drive there now

and learn these
particulars?

My dear Mycroft.

Her brother's life
is more important

than the sister's story.

But we should call
at Scotland Yard

for Inspector Gregson

and then go straight
out to Beckinum,

where we know that a man
is being done to death,

Every hour maybe vital.

Better pick up
Mr. Merlas on the way?

Why?

Because we may need
a Greek interpreter.

Excellent, Watson.

I should say from
what we have heard,

that we are
dealing with

a particularly
dangerous guy.

Mr. Merlas?

Yes.

There's a gentleman
downstairs to see you, sir.

What gentleman?

Well, he said he met you
today at the Diogenes Club.

Mr. Holmes!
Thank you!

Good evening,
Mr. Merlas.

Good evening,
Mrs.Sterd,

Would you tell Mr. Merlas
I need to see him urgently.

Well, Mr. Merlas
is not here, sir.

A gentleman just called
for him, and he left.

Can you tell
me where?

Oh, I don't know,
sir.

All I know is,

he drove off with a
gentleman in a carriage.

Did the gentleman
give a name?

No, sir.

He wasn't a tall,
handsome, dark, young man?

Oh, no, sir.

He was a little
gentleman, with glasses,

thin in the face, but very
pleasant in his ways.

He was laughing all the
time he was talking.

Thank you.

Scotland Yard,
and hurry!

It cannot be done
without a warrant!

We are not disputing
that, Inspector.

Even if they
are criminals,

it is a private house
and the law demands ...

The law demands that
we act quickly.

Can you not find
a Magistrate

to sign this
warrant for us?

A this hour?

At this very minute

our kidnapping
could become murder.

I can but try.

Please do.

Tell him,
I have ceased being reasonable.

If he does not sign
the papers now,

I will kill him.

Tell him I have
no more patience.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Please, Inspector ...

will you not come
without a warrant?

I am sorry, gentlemen ...

We have wasted
nearly an hour.

The law cannot
be hurried, Mr. Holmes.

The life of Mr. Merlas
is in your hands, Inspector.

Tell him ... hmm ...
tell him if I kill him ...

... I have no use anymore ...

... for his sister,
and she will die, also.

But you wouldn't ...

TELL HIM!

Here it is, gentlemen ...
it's signed.

Now get someone
to drive us

to London Bridge
Station.

I pray we're
not too late!

A carriage heavily
loaded with luggage

has passed that within
the last half-hour.

Wait for us here.

The nest is empty
and the birds are flown.

It's sulfur!

Mycroft, get the lamp!

Come, help me
with the bodies!

Right!

Quick!

The poor wretch
must be Paul Cretites.

No more, I'm afraid.
His life is over.

We should have been
here sooner, Inspector!

He must have been dead
about four hours.

The gas made of sulfur,

am I not right,
Dr. Watson?

Beaten to death.

But Mr. Merlas
still lives.

Quick! Let's get him out
of here as fast as possible!

Inspector, brandy!

Relax, Mr. Merlas,
you're in safe hands.

Get the ropes off him.

From a brief look
at her room,

the lady left
in haste,

but without
a struggle.

That man Latimer must still
have some power over her.

One wonders,

with how much remorse
she abandoned her brother

for Harold Latimer?

You still retain your
low opinion of women?

In this instance,
I cannot maybe justify.

Holmes, they appear to have
consulted a Bradshaw.

Look at this page.

The boat train.

The murderers
won't get far.

Have man at every port
in England, if need be.

The boat train makes one stop
between London and Dover.

At Hurn Hill in
23 minutes, precisely.

Exactly.

Stay with your chief
witness, Inspector.

You may need
a statement from him.

And he will
need your help.

A little brandy, and ammonia
at frequent intervals.

Mycroft, I'm not built
for running so hard!

Tickets, please!

Will you kindly have your
tickets ready, please?

My name
is Sherlock Holmes.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes?

Well, I've read about
your cases, sir.

Are we the
last passengers

from whom you have
collected tickets?

Indeed, sir.

I always work at the
engine, start there,

and work my way back
to the garden.

Then you
can help me.

There are three passengers,
two men and a woman,

traveling together.

They may not appear
to be companions,

but they will be in
a compartment alone.

The elder man wears
thick-lensed glasses,

and the younger one
is quite handsome.

They will have a great deal
of luggage marked

for the Continent.

Have you seen
such a party?

Yes, indeed, I can
help you, Mr. Holmes.

I never
doubted it.

There are two parties

who fit that description,
Mr. Holmes.

Two?

Ticket, please.

In Compartment B4 ...

B4.

... and D8.

Thank you,
Inspector.

How do you know which
two are the murderers?

It couldn't be simpler.
No, don't wake him.

There's danger enough
for the two of us.

A left-handed printer
from Detford.

His older brother
drinks too much

and is pained
by his liver.

Can't harm mine then.

Whatever.

And the girl?

She knows
neither of them,

she's a machinist
from Bradford

who's going on
a Holiday

to find romance.

Which means,
undoubtedly,

the murderers aren't
in Compartment B4.

Thank you,
Miss Cretites.

Do sit still, Mr. Latimer.
Do come in, Watson.

Who the hell are you?

The third member
of the party is absent,

but I'm sure he
will return.

Miss Cretites, may I ask

if you are this man's
prisoner or companion?

Don't say anything.

They have no right to ask
you anything at all.

If they were the police,
they would have said so.

Why the police,
Mr. Latimer?

Were you expecting
to meet them?

Look, I don't
know who you are,

nor do I know how
you know my name,

but I'm traveling
with my fiancèe

to the Continent
to get married.

So, would you please
leave us alone?

Otherwise, I shall be
obliged to call a guard.

Please do.

I'm sure Dr. Watson
would do it for you.

Ah, I see
you know who I am?

Then may I be
permitted to ask

your fiancèe
the question again?

It's true what he said.

We are going
to be married?

Where?

In Athens.

I fear not.

And who is going
to stop us?

If not the police,
then I will.

Miss Cretites, do you
seriously want me to believe

that you are leaving
England willingly?

Yes.

To marry the man who has
just murdered your brother?

That's not true.

No! Murdered?

It isn't true, is it?

He's going to meet us in
Greece as soon as he's well.

That's what
you said to me.

And he will Sophia,
he will.

Your brother is dead,
Miss Cretites.

Don't listen
to him.

I found his body myself
in the house in Beckinum.

He had been murdered.

tortured to death.

No, it can't be.

Harold, tell me
what's happened!

As for you,
Mr. Latimer,

Mr. Merlas is alive as
a witness to see you hanged.

Help me, Sophia, help me!

Help me! Help me!

...went very well,
very well indeed.

I have friends
dead.

Yes, but I need
not elaborate,

as I see you are a man of
the world, sir?

On the contrary ...

I've never left England
in my life.

Haven't you?

No.

Then sir, if you must
choose one country,

it must be Greece ...

the land of Gods,
olives and intrigue.

It is my destination,
Greece.

Do you speak Greek, sir?

No, but one can always
find a good interpreter.

Thank you.

An excellent meal.

well, good bye, sir.

It was a pleasure
meeting you.

Well, good bye.

It was an interesting
conversation.

I do apologize.

Sometimes,
I forget my size.

Goodbye again.

Is it true about Paul?

I'm afraid so.

I hated Harold Latimer.

I hated him,
and I loved him.

I would have done
anything he said.

I would have gone
anywhere with him.

Even though he murdered
your brother?

Yes, even then.

Mr.Cana,

we were expecting you.

I believe this is
your revolver, sir?

Well, brother of mine ...

we seem to be heading
down the path of crime.

The only path
I intend to take

is the door to
the Diogenes Club,

which I will
close behind me.

What will
become of her?

After questioning,
nothing.

There's not a crime
to her cold heart,

and not a single shred
of compassion.