All language subtitles for The.Adventures.of.Sherlock.Holmes.S05E04.The.Boscombe.Valley.Mystery.720p.BluRay.FLAC.2.0.x264-NTb_track3_[eng]

Look, father, we have been
through all this before...

Do as I tell you, boy,
you damn, disobedient little bastard!

Give me the gun!

It's my life and I'm going to
run it the way I like!

Get off out of it!

Good morning!

Caught anything?

Not yet.

Holmes, what on earth
are you doing here?

Looking for you.

Well, carry on my dear fellow,
don't let me disturb you.

What on earth are you
doing here?

A case has brought me
this way.

What sort of case?

The newspapers are calling it
the Boscombe Valley mystery.

I expect you've read
something of it?

Not a word. I haven't seen
a paper for days.

A farmer, Cole McCarthy,
Australian by birth,

met his death by a mere
at the bottom of his farm.

They seem to have established
a very serious case

against the son of
the murdered man.

There's a big one
just under that rock.

So then it's-

a murder?

Well, it's projected to be so.

Of course, I shall take
nothing for granted

until I've had a chance to
look into it personally.

Naturally.

I don't wish to spoil your holiday

but I was wondering if I could
persuade you to join me

for a couple of days?

Well, of course.

Are you sure?

I shall be delighted.

Then we must move quickly,
our local train leaves in 35 minutes.

Your water, sir,

Watson, all of this fresh air
will kill me.

Well, the London Press don't
seem much interested.

Not very full accounts.

Yes. Useless!

So much for the London Press.

It all seems depressingly simple.

What persuaded you to take
an interest in this case?

This.

"Boscombe Valley mystery."

"There has been
a grave miscarriage of justice."

"The matter is urgent.
We need your help."

"Please come if you can,
Alice Turner." Good heavens.

Who is Alice Turner?

She is the daughter of
Mr. Turner, also Australian,

who owns this whole estate.

Oh, well, it's a "mystery",
not "murder" to Miss Turner.

Note the "we", Watson,
"We need your help."

If ever there's a cry from the heart
that is it... it leaps from the paper.

Have you seen this lady?

No, not yet. Do you remember
a certain Sergeant Summerby?

Summerby? Oh, yes, the case of
the counterfeit Spanish dollars.

Mexican.

A pleasant fellow much admired
your methods, did he not?

Probably his reason for
promotion to Inspector.

He is in charge of the case and
it was he who organized-

this accommodation for us.

Us? You presumed that
I would come?

No, not presumed, Watson,
hoped, very much hoped.

Well, Mr. Holmes.

And you, Doctor, it's a pleasure
to see you again.

Congratulations on
your promotion, Inspector.

Thank you, Doctor.

It's a quiet district as a rule,
but nonetheless, my own.

I have a carriage waiting.

McCarthy, the murdered man

rented a farm called Hatherley
from a Mr. Turner

who is one of the largest London
proprietors in this part of the country.

He made his money in Australia.

I presume that both being colonials
they had much in common.

Old friends, I believe.

Well, Mr. Turner has been in
failing health for some time.

He has a daughter called Alice?

An only child and
a most charming one.

We surmise that Miss Turner and
the McCarthy boy are friends?

Great friends.

It was Miss Turner
who brings me here.

Oh, I know, Mr. Holmes,

and to be quite honest with you
I'm surprised you came.

The case is
as plain as a pikestaff,

and the more one goes into it
the plainer it becomes.

So I have warned
Miss Turner that this time-

not even Mr. Sherlock Holmes
will be able to work miracles...

Beautiful countryside.

Yes, yes, indeed.
This is Boscombe Valley.

And over there at the bottom is
Boscombe Mere

where the murder took place.

A peaceful place for a tragedy.

Any witnesses?

I expected that question,
Mr. Holmes.

The principle witness is
William Crowder,

one of Mr. Turner's gamekeepers.

It was after I had my dinner,
last Monday it was, the...

the third of June.

Oh, that's right.

Now I fed the young pheasants,
pullets we call them.

You were planting out lettuces.

Oh, that's right.

I was setting out some lettuces,
those lettuces over there.

When my little girl, Patience,
she comes running up.

Dad, dad,
the McCarthy's are fighting.

Well, it won't be the first time.

Well,

don't you worry about it, Patience.
It ain't no concern of ours.

Go on, in you go.

That, Mr. McCarthy,

he has a temper,
that one, you know.

You know, if he thought another gun
had poached his bird out shooting,

he'd let fly in a real fury.

Was the boy the same way inclined?

No milk for me, please.

No. No, not that I've
noticed anyway.

No, he always seemed
a nice enough boy.

I'm surprised him doing
such a thing.

But, then again,

he was provoked.

No doubt, who's to say.

You tell the gentlemen
what happened next.

You haven't forgotten what you said
in evidence at the inquest.

Forgotten?

I shan't forget that day, not
so long as I live.

I, I just sent Patience
into her mother,

and I hadn't planted out
no more than another half a box,

when Hugh McCarthy come running up
looking like he'd seen a ghost.

My father's met with a terrible accident.
Please come with me, I need your help.

Where is he?

Down by the mere.

Is he alive?

You just come along with me.

I brought him back here.

And I sent my wife down to
the trap for the police.

Did the boy say anything?

No, no, not a word.

He just sat there where you are,
sobbing and moaning

and I didn't take my eyes off him until
they came for him, that's the truth.

Did you examine the gun at all,
the butt for instance?

Ah... No.
No, not especially.

But, there was a bit of mud on it.

He wiped it.

He wiped it?

Well, I might've done.

I mean it would've been
natural wouldn't it?

There was Mr. McCarthy lying there
dead with his head bashed in,

and he hadn't got that way
swatting wasps, had he?

And you believe that
the boy killed his father?

Well, of course, I do, sir.
I mean who else could've done it?

I can tell you this much, gentlemen.

All right, now,
I'm a gamekeeper, all right?

And when a man's got a gun in his
hand strange things can happen.

Now I've seen men,
quiet law abiding gentleman,

you put a gun in their hands,
they turn into near maniacs.

Thank you so much, Mr. Crowder,

for giving so much of
your valuable time.

Oh, it's been
a pleasure gentlemen.

It's not the first time I've been
able to help the cause of justice,

no, not by a long chalk.

Well, last year at Candlemas time,
you remember, Inspector?

No, I'm a liar,
it were two years ago.

Well, we must be on our way.

Well, I'm on the side of law and order,
sir, the Inspector will tell you that.

Indeed you are, Crowder,
thank you.

Goodbye.

They're all the same,
these country people.

Once they get an audience
they'll talk the hind leg off a donkey.

Now if you follow me I'll take you
down to the scene of the crime.

No need for the moment.

That's very true, no need
in the circumstances.

It's a sad case,
but a pretty clear one.

The glass is high,

weather set fair.

I shall like to call on
James McCarthy.

I can arrange it if you wish.

Tomorrow.

One more thing I should tell you,
Mr. Holmes.

When the boy was charged
with the murder,

he didn't appear
in the least surprised.

In fact, he said it was
no more than his deserts.

Those were his very words.

A confession?

You might think so.

Did he also protest
his innocence?

Yes. But then again,
they always do, don't they?

I think we best be getting back
to the hotel.

I have some calls to
make on the estate.

Until tomorrow, then.

Boscombe Arms.

The boy said he got
no more than his deserts.

Well, that's a pretty
suspicious remark.

I mean, coming after such a
damning series of events.

On the contrary the brightest rift
I can see in the clouds at present.

Self-approach contrition
displayed by his remark

appears to be signs of a healthy mind,
rather than a guilty one.

Many men have been hanged
on far slighter evidence.

So they have and many men have
been hanged wrongfully.

Oh, look, a pheasant.

Mm, "Witness"-
that's James McCarthy.

"I had a conversation with my father,
which led to high words"

"and almost to blows."

As his temper was
becoming ungovernable,

I left him and went up the hill.

I hadn't gone more than
a hundred yards

when I heard a hideous outcry,
which caused me to run back again.

I found my father

expiring on the ground
with his head terribly injured.

Did you see anyone near your father
when you returned?

No, no one. I have no idea
how he came by his injuries.

He was not a popular man,

but as far as I know
he had no active enemies.

I know nothing further
of the matter.

Did your father say anything
to you before he died?

He mumbled a few words

but all I could catch was
some allusion to a rat.

Silence. Be quiet.

A rat? And what did you
understand by that?

It conveyed nothing to me.

I thought, well, I thought
he was delirious.

What was the point upon which you
and your father had this final quarrel?

I should prefer not to
answer that question, sir.

I'm afraid that I must press it.

It really is impossible for me to tell
you, but I can assure you that-

it had nothing to do with
the sad tragedy that followed.

That is for the court to decide.

I need hardly point out to you
that your refusal to answer

will prejudice
your case considerably

in any future proceedings
which may arise.

You may sit down.

Gentlemen of the jury, you are
here to discover the cause of death

of Mr. William McCarthy and
thereafter to deliver your verdict.

You have heard
the facts of this crime

and I believe they make
the situation very clear.

Mr. James McCarthy's account
of his father's dying

is singular to say the least.

His refusal to give any details
of their last conversation

must go very much against him.

The verdict of willful murder

seemed to me to fit
the facts we have heard.

I hope I make myself clear.

So willful murder it was.

Monstrous.

Well the boy did rather ask for it.

My dear Watson, don't you see that
both you and the coroner-

have been some pains to single out
the strongest points

in the young man's favor?

Don't you see that you're
terribly giving credit for

too much imagination
or too little?

Too little,
if he could not invent a quarrel

which would give him
the sympathy of the jury.

Too much,

if he evolved from his own inner
consciousness anything so outré

as a dying of reference to a rat.

Well, these country coroners
do think they're little tin pot gods.

It's an absolute scandal.

No, no, no.

I shall approach this case from
the point of view of

what this young man says is true.

We have a visitor.

Our young client has arrived.

Come in.

I'm so glad you've come,
Mr. Holmes. I'm Alice Turner.

And this is my friend
and colleague, Dr. Watson.

Dr. Watson, of course.

It is you who have written down
some of Mr. Holmes' cases

in such an interesting way.

You see I know all about you,
Mr. Holmes

and your wonderful success.

If you knew how much
we need you now,

but do you yet know
anything of what happened?

Please sit down, Miss Turner.

Inspector Summerby has told me
something of it.

Oh, yes, the Inspector.
He gave me your address.

He's quite a kind man, isn't he?

But he doesn't understand.
How could he, he's a policeman.

Mr. Holmes, I know
that James didn't do it.

I know it and I want you to start
your work knowing it, too.

Never let yourself doubt
upon that point.

Have you known James McCarthy
a long time?

Yes, all my life. We have known
each other since we were children,

but he's too tender-hearted
to hurt a fly.

This charge is just absurd to
anyone who really knows him.

Well, I hope that we may
clear him.

I shall do all I can.

But from what you've heard already,
do you not think he's innocent?

I think it is probable.

I don't know my friend is
so convinced.

I think that Mr. Holmes is
being a little-

a little quick in his conclusions.

But you are right, oh, I know that
you are right. James never did it.

This quarrel with his father,

which he would not
talk about to the coroner,

do you know anything of it?

I believe it was because
I was concerned in it.

In what way?

It is no time to hide anything now.

James and his father had many
disagreements about me.

Mr. McCarthy was very anxious

that there should be
a marriage between us,

but James and I have always loved
each other like brother and sister.

Of course we haven't seen
so much of each other lately.

I have been away at
boarding school for some years

and James has been studying
in Liverpool.

He is only 22 and has seen
very little of life and-

well, I suppose he does not wish
to do anything like that just yet.

So there were quarrels. And this,
I'm sure, was one of them.

How old are you, Miss Turner?

I am 18, quite nearly 19.

As you say,

this isn't a time to hide anything.

Are you in love with
James McCarthy?

Yes, I am, Mr. Holmes,

very much in love.

There is no one else and
never will be. Even if...

And he with you?

Oh, I think so.

I hope so.

But how should I know for sure?
We have never discussed marriage.

Was your father in favor of
such a union?

No, he was averse to it,

No one but Mr. McCarthy
was in favor of it.

Thank you
for being so frank with us.

If I was to visit your father,
could I see him, please?

I'm afraid not. The doctor has
forbidden any visitors.

Oh, I'm sorry, we did not know
he was so ill.

My father has never been strong,
but this has broken him completely.

Oh, he has taken to his bed and

Dr. Willow says that he's a wreck
and his nervous system is shattered.

I can hardly leave him or I would've
been at the railway station to meet you.

Well, you see,

Mr. McCarthy was the only man alive
who had known dad

in the old days in Australia.

Australia?

In Victoria at the mines,
the gold mines.

That's where dad made
all his money.

You have been of
material assistance to me.

Will you be able to see James?

Tomorrow.

Tell him that I know him
to be innocent.

I will.

Could you give him this?

Of course.

And if you have any news
you will tell me?

I must go home now.

I left my father asleep but
if he awakes and I'm not there,

he'll be upset.

Goodbye.

And God help you
in your undertaking.

Morning, Inspector.

May I see him alone, please?

As you wish, Mr. Holmes.

But remember this man is on remand
accused of willful murder,

and as you well know such a man
under such circumstances

isn't likely to speak the truth.

Oh, thank you
for your good advice.

James McCarthy, my name is
Sherlock Holmes.

I'm here to help you.

How should I know that?

You came with the police Inspector,
I saw him out there.

I'm here at the request of
Miss Turner.

I am sorry, Mr. Holmes.

Lately I've learned to
trust no one.

I'm afraid you've come too late.

They've already made up
their minds that I am guilty.

Well, I have not.

The Coroner's court...

The Coroner and the Coroner's jury,
only sit to enquire into the facts.

They do not sit in judgment.

Well, how can I help you?

I'd like you to tell me
exactly what happened.

Let's sit down over here where we
can talk quietly and not be overheard.

Where shall I start?

You choose.

Well, I've been studying in
Liverpool for some three years.

My father was most anxious I should
have some academic qualifications.

It was on that day June the 3rd
that I returned home.

Was your father expecting you?

No, no, not exactly. He knew
I was due for a few days holiday,

but not the exact date.

Our local carrier took me up
to the farm from the village.

Welcome home, nice to
see you back, Master James.

Oh, it's nice to be back,
George.

Hey, Stan, Stan?

Is my father in the house?

No, no, went off
about five minutes ago,

looked as though
he had something on his mind.

All right, George.

Will you be wanting pony later?

No, no, I'll ride tomorrow.

I might have a gun, see if
I could pot a few rabbits.

They need shooting- the place is
crawling with them. Welcome.

Hello, father.

James? What are you doing here?

I'm just back
for a few days, that's all.

Well, I don't want you down here.

So get off out of it. Keep away
from it, do you understand?

Yes, why?

None of your damn business!
Just do as you're told.

James.

Look,

now you are here,

get over the Turner's place
and tell that girl you'll marry her.

I'll do no such thing. Look, father,
we have been...

Do as I tell you boy, you damn,
disobedient, little bastard!

Give me the gun.

Give me the gun!

It's my life and I'm going to
run it the way I like.

All right, damn you!

I'll throw you out,
I'll ruin you. You'll see.

Now get off out of it!

I had hardly gone any distance at all
when I heard a terrible scream.

I ran back down and found
my father lying on his side.

Did you see anyone else?

No one.

No movement anywhere?

No, my attention was entirely
on my father.

He was terribly wounded.

You would not tell the coroner about
this quarrel with your father.

It was something private.
It was no business of his.

Was it not because this
confrontation with your father

might seem to incriminate you?

No, no, it was because
it concerned Alice.

It was no business of
the coroners or anyone else's.

I wasn't going to have her name
bandied about in the courtroom.

You do know this...
Alice loves you, James.

And believes you to be innocent.

Yes, I know.

The thought of her love
and her faith in me

has kept me in some sort of
sanity in this horrible place.

And yet you had no wish to marry her
as your father so clearly wished?

Perhaps you did not
share her love?

I did. I do, Mr. Holmes.
I love Alice Turner.

I, I adore her, I worship
the very ground she treads on,

but...

And yet?

I could not ask her to
marry me because,

because I was married already.

Don't you think you'd better
tell me about it?

When, when I first started
studying in Liverpool,

my father gave me
a very generous allowance.

Perhaps too generous
for my own good.

I became very wild and
fell in with a bad set of people.

And in a fit of drunken madness

I went through a form of
marriage in a register office

to a woman much older
than I was.

A barmaid.

I hardly ever saw Alice
at that time.

Of course, I couldn't tell my father.

He would certainly have thrown
me out as he'd so often threatened.

Yes, I'm sure he would.

Have you any idea-

who would've killed
your father so brutally?

None whatsoever.

Do you know I go over the scene
day after day after day in my mind?

But, I am as puzzled as
everyone else is.

Don't give up hope.

Thank you, Mr. Holmes.

Oh, oh, Mr. Holmes...

It hardly concerns all this business
but perhaps I should tell you.

Some good has come
out of this evil.

Since I've been in here I received
a message from the woman I married

who has read in the newspapers

that I am in serious trouble
and likely to be hanged.

She wrote that she had a husband
already in the Bermuda dockyard.

Good heavens!

So, there is no legal tie
between us.

If only I had known before.

You were right to tell me.

Poor fellow.

Must've been maddening
to be upbraided by his father

for not doing something he would
give his very eyes to do.

If he's innocent, who did it?

Indeed.

Well perhaps I can help I've not been
entirely idle in your absence.

Now in the surgeon's deposition
of the inquest it states

that "the posterior third
of the left parietal bone,

and the left half of the occipital
bone were shattered

by blows from a blunt weapon".

Now that's here, now behind.

But the evidence states
that they were quarreling-

face to face.

That's a very nice piece
of deduction, Watson.

Thank you.

But hardly a valid one.

McCarthy could've easily turned his
back the moment the girl had run off.

But I'm so glad that you're
coming around to my way of thinking,

and Miss Turner's.
The boy is innocent.

Now, Holmes you're putting words
in my mouth, I didn't say that.

But you're thinking it just a little.

These boots were the ones
the master was wearing

at the time he was murdered, sir.

I've cleaned them off since,
of course.

Those, those are a pair of
Master James'.

He bought them new last Michelmass

Thank you, George,
now let's get onto the mere.

This is the place, Mr. Holmes.
You can still see traces of the blood.

Please, would you keep
clear of this area?

Why did you enter the mere,
Inspector?

Fished them out with a rack,

thought there might be some weapon
thrown there or some other trace.

If only I'd been here
before they came

like a herd of buffalo and
wallowed all over it.

This must be the gamekeeper
and his gang.

These tracks are young McCarthy's.

And these. Twice he walked.

He turned.

Once he ran,

so the soles of the feet are deeply
marked, the heels are hardly visible.

That would bear out his story he ran
when he saw his father on the ground.

He does work at it, I'll say that.

The father paced up
and down right here.

What have we here?

Tiptoes.

Square toes, most unusual boots.

Where did mister square toes
come from?

He'd a made a rare bloodhound,
Mr. Holmes.

It has been a case of
considerable interest. Come.

Thank you, George.

Thank you, sir.

Would you deliver this note?

Yes, sir, indeed. Right away.

This may interest you, Inspector.

The murder was done with it.

I can see no marks.

There are none.

Well, how do you know then?

The grass was growing under it.

It had only been there a few days.
It corresponds with the injuries.

And the murderer?

He's a tall man, left handed,
limps with the right leg,

wears thick-soled shooting boots
with square toes,

smokes Indian cigars,
uses a cigar holder,

and carries a blunt pen knife
in his pocket.

You're a brilliant man, Mr. Holmes,
and I wish I had your brains.

Your theories are all very well,

but I'm still not convinced.
Not this time.

We have to deal with a
hardheaded British jury.

Well, you've had
your chance, Inspector.

I'm a practical man, Mr. Holmes.

I cannot undertake to
go around the country

looking for a left-handed
gentleman with the gamey leg

unless I become
the laughing stock of Cheshire.

We shall see.

You work your method,
I shall work mine.

Now, let us take
this morning's work.

From my examination
of the ground,

I gained details as to
the personality of the criminal.

But how?

You know my method. It's founded
upon the observance of trifles.

Well, his height I know you might
roughly judge

by the length of his stride,
his boots by his traces,

but the man's nameless.

The impression of his right foot

was always left distinct
than that of the left.

Why? Because he limped.

He's left-handed.

The blow was delivered from
immediately behind him,

yet he was on the left-hand side.

Watson.

He must've been
a left-handed man, of course.

He stood behind that tree

during the confrontation
between father and son.

He even smoked.

Smoked?

Cigar ash.

An Indian cigar.

You will remember
my little monograph-

on the subject of ashes from
pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco.

One hundred different varieties
if I remember.

One hundred and forty,
thank you, Watson.

Having discovered the ash-

I discovered this stump,

which the man had thrown
among the moss.

An Indian cigar
rolled in Rotterdam.

You'll notice that the end
has not been in his mouth,

so he used a cigar holder.

The tip has been cut off,
not bitten,

but the cut is not a clean one,
so I deduced a blunt penknife.

You're amazing.

Among the words mumbled
by the dying man,

the only word that young McCarthy
could understand was the word "rat".

Rat, hmm.

Most curious.

Come with me.

Now,

what do you read?

A rat.

And now?

Balla-rat..."Ballarat".

That is the word the man uttered.

Australia.

Someone from Ballarat,
what is Ballarat known for?

It's the "Goldfield".

Miss Turner said that her father
had met McCarthy on the Goldfield.

I see the direction
which all this points.

An Australian from Ballarat and
one who is at home in the district.

Unless I'm very much mistaken,
he's here.

Mr. John Turner.

Mr. Holmes.

Dr. Watson.

My daughter told me
you were lodging here.

Did you get my note?

Yes, yes, something about coming
here to avoid a scandal.

Better than meeting up at the hall,
people might talk.

Why do you wish to see me?

Oh, yes. I know all about
you and McCarthy.

My friend Watson will jot down
a few facts.

I promise it will not be used
unless it is absolutely needed.

Do sit down.

You didn't know
the dead man McCarthy.

He was a devil incarnate.

God keep you out of the clutches
of a man such as he.

His grip has been upon me
these many years

and he's blasted my life.

I'll tell you first how I came
to be in his power.

It was in the early 60's
at the diggings.

I was a young chap then,
hot blooded and reckless.

Well, I had no luck with my claim,

took to the bush and became
what you'd call a highway robber.

There was a little gang of us
who lived a wild free life of it.

Sticking up a station
from time to time,

or stopping the wagon
on the road from the diggings.

They called me
Black Jack of Ballarat.

I believe they still remember
the Ballarat gang in the colony.

The wagon driver was McCarthy
and I spared him.

Get out of it!

Go on, shift! Do a Botany! Fast!

We got away with the gold.

And Mac and I were wealthy men
beyond the dreams of Everest.

There was...

There was a price on our heads.

I decided to make for England.

I determined to settle down to
a quiet and respectable life.

I bought this estate that included
the whole village,

even this inn is mine.

I set myself to do a little good
with my money

to make up for the way
in which I'd earned it.

I married and then
my darling wife died young.

She left me my dear little Alice.

I was a happy man you might say,
until McCarthy laid his grip upon me.

He followed my trail.
When he first came here,

he'd hardly a coat to his back
or a boot to his foot.

"Here we are, Jack!" he said.

"You can have the keeping of us,
me and my little boy."

"And if you don't,"

"England is a fine law-abiding
country,"

"and there's always
a policeman handy."

I was a sitting duck for blackmail.

There was no shaking him off,
there was no rest, no peace,

no forgetfulness.
Turn where I would-

there was his cunning,
grinning face at my elbow.

Whatever he wanted he must have,
and whatever it was-

I gave him without question.
Land, money, houses...

until at last he asked the thing
I could not give.

He asked for Alice.

His son and my girl had grown up.
He knew I was in weak health.

It seemed a fine stroke
to him that his-

son should step into
the whole property.

There I was firm.

I would not have his cursed stock
mixed with mine.

Not that I had any dislike
for the lad,

but his father's blood was in him
and that was enough.

I stood firm. McCarthy threatened,
I braved him to do his worst.

We arranged to meet at the mere,

halfway between our two houses
to talk it over.

As I listened to his talk
all that was black and bitter

seemed to come upper most,

and he was urging his son
to marry my daughter,

with as little regard for
what she might think

as a slut from off the streets.

Look, father, we have been
through all this before...

Do as I tell you, boy,
you damn, disobedient, little bastard!

It drove me mad to think that
I and all that I held dear

should be in the power
of such a man.

It's my life and I'm going to run it
the way I like.

I was a dying and desperate man.

If I could silence that foul tongue,
I could still save me

and my family's reputation
in this valley.

Get off out of it!

I did it, Mr. Holmes,
and I would do it again.

Deeply though I've sinned, I've lived
a life of martyrdom to atone for it.

If my girl should become entangled
in the same meshes which held me

was more than I could suffer.

I struck him down with
no more compunction

than if he'd been some foul
and venomous beast.

That is the true story, gentlemen-

of all that occurred.

It is not for me to judge you,

but I hope that we may never
expose to such temptation.

I pray not, sir.

I'm a dying man.

I've had the diabetes for years.

My doctor says it's a question of
whether I shall live a month,

and I'd rather die under
my own roof than in a jail.

No, McCarthy must be got off,
however.

Oh, God help me, but I wouldn't let
that young man come to harm.

I'll give you my word that
I'd have spoken out

if it went against him
at the assizes.

I'm very glad to hear
you say so.

I'd have spoken now if it
had not been for my dear girl.

It would break her heart.

It'll break her heart when
she hears that I'm arrested.

It may not come to that.

We're not the police.

I am no official agent.

I'm here
at your daughter's request.

Alice?

Alice.

Then what do you intend to do?

In view of your health, nothing.

You are yourself aware that
you'll have to answer for your deed

at a higher court than the assizes.

If young McCarthy's condemned
I shall be forced to use this confession.

If not,

it will never be seen
by mortal eye,

and your secret, whether you be
alive or dead, shall be safe with that.

Farewell then.

Your own deathbeds
when they come

a little bit easier for a thought of
the peace that you've given to mine.

Oh God, help us.

"Turner, John Stewart,"

"16th of August,
Boscombe Hall Cheshire."

"After a long illness, bravely born,
beloved father of Alice."

Well, we're free to use that confession
at young McCarthy's trial.

No, by no means.

My promise was it would not be used
unless McCarthy is condemned,

and I think I've given enough
objections to the charge

to ensure his acquittal.

Well, I hope so.

I love you.

I love you, too.

Will you marry me?

Yes, I will.

A happy ending to a brilliant case.

I congratulate you, Holmes.

I thank you. I must admit there are
certain aspects to this case,

which even I did not anticipate.