All language subtitles for The.Adventures.of.Sherlock.Holmes.S07E06.The.Cardboard.Box.720p.BluRay.FLAC.2.0.x264-NTb_track3_[eng]

Now I won't say as how
the uniform don't suit-

you, Miss Cushing.
But it is nice to see you out of it.

Sarah, Sarah.

You must be the other Miss Cushing.

Isn't this a happy day then, eh,
for all three of you.

Yes, yes it is, of course it is.

Just coming.

"Body Snatchers Strike
in North London."

"Are we dealing with a modern
version of Burke and Hare?"

Well, sadly, the anatomy schools
don't need the help

of body snatchers
at this time of the year.

They are well stocked
with corpses from the poor.

What do you think then?

I don't know.
Some outlandish cult, perhaps.

Have you been consulted
on the subject Holmes?

Come in, Hawkins.

Ah Hawkins.

Make yourself at home.
Have a cup of coffee.

Thank you.

Have you brought
those descriptions?

Yes, yes I have.

Bodies so far exhumed,
"Albert Cotter, forty eight."

"Fish porter of Shadwell.
Heart disease."

"Martin Rubery, fifty four.
Cirrhosis of the liver."

We don't know much about him,
except it was thought

he was an amateur pugilist
of some sort in his youth.

"Jimmy King, thirty nine.
Covent Garden Porter."

"Cerebral hemorrhage."

You will continue your researches?

If you say so, Mr. Holmes.

I do say so.

And keep your eye on the premises
of a certain Murdoch Gull.

Yes? Murdoch, you think?

Is the fence for anything out of
the ordinary? It could be a man.

One more thing, Mr. Holmes, sir.

The men and I would be
very honoured

if you'd drop by Christmas Eve.

We try to get a bit festive
at Christmas, and

we like to invite a few guests.

Christmas...

Mary?

There. It's a start.

Mrs. Hudson.

Mr. Holmes?

How am I supposed to think up
yet another present for Watson?

I mean, every year
you inflict this agony on me.

It's quite simple, Mr. Holmes.
You go to Gamages.

Gamages?

Yes. It's in Holborn,
a department store.

The people's Emporium.
You will be quite spoilt for ideas.

Mrs. Hudson, how dare
you take my aspidistra?

I do dare.

Afternoon, Miss Cushing.
Season's Greetings, eh?

Good afternoon, Wilkinson.

Looks like we're in for
a bit more snow before long.

I do hope not.

What is this Monsieur Jacotett?

Ah, Madame Suzan.

Our arrangement is that you may
sit by the parlour fire after dinner.

Otherwise, I would be obliged,

when you are in the house,
if you would keep to your room.

Your sister, Sarah,
gave me permission, Madame.

This is my house, not my sister's.
Even if she said it, which I doubt.

You doubt my word?

I would be most surprised
if my sister gave

the run of the kitchen
to my lodger.

You would be surprised
what your sister gives.

Very surprised.

I think I would be obliged if you
left the kitchen now, Monsieur.

I don't think you hear
what I am saying.

Susan.

Marcel...

Oh Susan, it has worked. They have
made me warden at the mission.

Now you ask her what she gave me.

Did you give Monsieur Jacotett

permission to help himself
in here, in the kitchen?

I believe I did, once.
I didn't realize he'd...

Ask her.

What do you mean?
What is going on?

Ask her.

You English are such hypocrites.
Now you tell her what you gave me.

What is all this about? Will someone
please tell me what's going?

I see.

I see. Very well.

You are warden now.
Go and live there then.

You'll have quarters
at the mission. Go there.

I don't want you under my roof.
Go. I won't have you here, I won't.

And as for you Monsieur, you will
leave my house immediately.

Immediately.
Or I will call the police.

Your belongings will be packed and

left at the tradesmen's entrance
for your collection.

How dare you!

You sound exactly like mother.

What if I do?

I thought I'd heard the last of
that sort of thing when she died.

How dare you talk about
mother like that!

It's just as well I am like her.

I don't know what would happen to
this family otherwise.

Oh you hold us all together do you?

How splendid you are!

Do you realize that Mary has gone
away without telling anyone?

Good. She's showing
some spirit at last.

You call that good?

Sometimes you're not
just feckless,

I think you're deliberately
irresponsible.

Mary is a married woman.

Well, no thanks to you.
You stood in her way to the last.

Jim Browner was never good enough
for our family, was he?

The daughters of Major Cushing RE?

Never mind, he was a gambling
wastrel. Our father was...

Be quiet. If anyone
has disgraced this family...

It's me?

I warn you, one day
this diet of respectability

is going to make you ill.

You are so... horrid.

Ah dear Mrs. Hudson.

Mr. Holmes, the doctor has
someone with him.

A Miss Susan Cushing.

Oh well. You'd better hold
onto this.

This is...

What's that?

Ah, that is a Christmas tree,
it's a Norway spruce.

This is Miss Cushing.

Miss Cushing is concerned
about her sister, Mrs. Browner.

Pray continue.

Miss Cushing's youngest sister,

lives not far from her,
just east of Camberwell.

Mrs. Browner visits her
every Friday for tea,

unless she sends excuses,
which is most unusual.

Last Friday, the nineteenth,

Mrs. Browner failed to send excuses
or to arrive.

So, Miss Cushing has made
inquiries at her lodgings,

but Mrs. Browner has not been seen
there since last Thursday.

Sounds to me
as if she has disappeared.

Evidently, Holmes.

There could be one or two reasons
for her disappearance.

Yes, I know. Either because
she wished to disappear,

or because somebody else
wished her to disappear.

Do you know of any reason why anyone
should want her to disappear?

Mary? None.

She's the most loveable of creatures.
Everyone loves her.

As to her whereabouts,

I mean, I suggest that you try
the missing people agency.

I could find you a list of addresses.

There, hah.

Charming, isn't it?

Slight improvement on that
rather sad pices excelsa.

Sarah.

Marcel.

What possessed you?
You've wrecked it all.

The waiting possessed me.
You drive me mad Sarah.

Sometimes I think I'm possessed.

Where are you now?

Some filthy hole near the hospital.

Thanks to your sister.
I will not let her forget this.

You'll need a reference if you're
going to find a decent place to stay.

Are you going to Belgium
still for Christmas?

Yes. My uncle in Ostend.

Well, when you come back,
I'll write a reference for you.

I'm Warden of this place.
It'll count.

I love you.

Come to me after Christmas.

The post, Miss Cushing.

Shall I put the parcels
under the tree?

Yes, please.

Nothing from Mrs. Browner, yet?

Nothing as yet, no.

Did Sudgen's include the Madeira
in their delivery today?

Yes, Miss Cushing.
Everything's ready for this evening.

Thank you.

Compliments of the season,
Mr. Bradbrook.

Thank you very much,
and the very same to you.

Miss Cushing.
I say Miss Cushing.

Mr. Bradbrook?

I dare say your sister,
Sarah, will be joining us?

I'm afraid not, Mr. Bradbrook.

She's Warden now of
the Mission Hostel now

her duties to her residents
will keep her there.

I shall see her here
only on Sundays, now I fear.

I'm sorry to disappoint you,
Mr. Bradbrook.

No, no, no you haven't, not at all.

Come now, Mr. Bradbrook.
It is Christmas Eve.

To make up, we shall open
our presents from the tree

straight after supper
instead of at midnight.

What do you say?

Very well. Yes. Yes, fine.
Splendid. Let's do that.

Well, Gladstone will be
pleased at least.

There is a treat somewhere for him.

Welcome gentlemen,
very good of you to come.

Gull? Has he been arrested?

No, Mr. Holmes.
He's come to complain.

Has he indeed?

He has spotted our surveillance
of him. He doesn't like it.

You won't give up?

Dear me, no.

Join the party.

Come on.

Yes. Come in.

Oh, my dear fellow,
you are wearing it.

Well, I had to try it.
What's so good about it is-

it stretches forward over
the handlebars if you need it.

Where on earth did you find it?

Gamages, the people's Emporium.

Thank you. Pipe. Magnificent.

Hawkins, do come in, dear fellow.
Please, sit down.

What is the news of
the grave robberies?

The Camberwell force
have been on to me and

incident down there. They were
wondering if it had any connection.

I don't think it does myself, but
I'd value your opinion Mr. Holmes.

We need to get this nasty little
joke solved and out of the way.

Joke?

Respectable lady, in company
opening her parcels, Christmas Eve.

One of them's bit odd, full of salt.
She empties out the salt.

What's in it?
Two freshly severed human ears.

We think it was a medical student.
She had a medical student as a lodger.

Post-mortem anatomy can make
certain individuals thoroughly callous.

She threw him out just before
Christmas. Bit of a row. Apparently.

Anyway, knowing your methods,
Mr. Holmes,

I've had the ears left quite
untouched at the lady's house.

Which is,

yes. Here it is. Trafalgar Villa,
Camberwell, A Miss Susan Cushing.

Oh, Mr. Holmes, have you come to
help me find Mary after all?

I'm afraid not, Miss Cushing.

The Inspector has asked me to look
into that other, unfortunate business.

Oh, that. Well, I won't have those
things in the house, Mr. Hawkins.

If you wish to see them,
you must go to the conservatory.

Have you arrested that
wretched young man yet?

Just a matter of time,
Miss Cushing.

Postmarked Harwich.
Now this student fellow Jacotett

was going home for
Christmas to Ostend via Harwich.

Yes, I agree,

Harwich is persuasive.
The writing is poor. Uneducated.

I know the medical profession is
notorious for its illegibility,

but this, written with a broad
nibbed pen, very inferior ink.

Tarred twine.

Stockholm tar. Knots intact.

Rough salt...

and embedded in it...

These very singular enclosures.

What do you think of it, Watson?

A ring has been torn from this ear.

They are not a pair.

I suppose it would be rather easier
for Jacotett to have abstracted ears

from a dissecting room
which were not actually a pair.

To what purpose?

Some kind of disgusting
practical joke.

Gentlemen,
this is no practical joke.

What first strikes you when you
enter a dissecting room?

Formaldehyde. Dammit,
it should smell the formaldehyde.

And it does not.
This is no practical joke.

This is a serious crime.

Your sister, Miss Cushing.

Mary. At last,
Mary, Mary, quite contrary.

I thought it was Mary.

I've come to take
some more of my things.

I bought you a present before we
argued. You may as well have it.

I don't want it. I don't want it.

What's the matter with you?

Is it another disgusting prank?

Well, he was your friend,
after all.

I don't want your horrid parcel.

Take it. Let's preserve
the proprieties at least, sister.

Proprieties?

You dare to talk about the proprieties?

You have flouted the rules
of society all your life.

And you had the effrontery
to accuse me

of interfering with
Mary's marrying that man?

Didn't you?

But what did you do?

What did I do? I did nothing.

You know what you did.
You introduced Mary to other men.

Corrupting her. Mary has
told me in her innocence.

She accused me?

Mary accuses no one.
You know that.

But I see your hand
in her unhappiness.

Nonsense.

Why did Jim Browner start
drinking again?

He signed the pledge for Mary.
That's what brought them together.

She pinned the blue ribbon to
his chest and he was a new man.

So why did he break his pledge?

Why ask me?

Why did you quarrel with him?

I never approved of Jim Browner,
that's true, but he deserved-

better than being driven back
to drink by your meddling.

I'm back.

Jim.

Hello Sarah.

Mary wasn't expecting you
till much later.

I managed to catch the tail end
of the flood. Saved a whole tide.

She not here then?

No. Old Mrs. Cooper's not well again.
Mary's with her.

I said I'd help her with the laundry.
She'll be back soon.

You help her a lot, don't you?

That's nice.

You know why I help her I suppose?

What?

Why I'm always round here.

You're her sister.

Can't you be happy for five
minutes without her, Jim?

Here, make yourself useful.

Drop the side then.

Well you drop this and
bring it up the other side.

What do you mean?
Mary doesn't do that.

There are plenty of things
Mary doesn't do, I dare say.

Look, I'll show you
how to do it, shall I?

Now...

No, come on. You take this corner.

Right now, you drop this,

and you bring it up the other side.

You do it yourself. That's not
for me. I want no part of that.

Pushing women's work at me.
You keep that to yourself.

Mr. Holmes and the other gentlemen
to see you, madam.

As long as they don't bring
those things near me.

And where is he now?

Mr. Browner was
on the South American line

when he and Mary married.
But he was so fond of her,

that he found himself a berth
in the North Sea boats.

The London - Den Helder line.

And is Mary fond of him?

It was a love match.

Love?

Although...

Yes?

I was loath to acknowledge it
at the time.

Why was that?

I didn't think a sister of mine
should be marrying a steward.

And now? How do you feel now?

I think Jim and Mary could be happy.

You mean they weren't?

They were at first.

What happened?

Perhaps you should ask Sarah.

She practically lived there
for a while.

Which ship is Mr. Browner
serving with at present?

The "May Morning".

She sailed on the seventeenth
for Belgium and Holland.

They were in Rotterdam
over Christmas.

The crews draw lots and Jim
was unlucky this year.

Mary was to have spent Christmas
with Sarah and me.

And now Sarah, of course,
is now Warden at the mission.

Are you sad not to have her
living with you still?

Yes I am.

Well to tell you the truth,
Mr. Holmes,

things are not well between us.

You have quarreled?
What about?

It may have a bearing on what has
happened to your sister, Mary.

I know that. Of course it does.
Do you think I don't know that?

I blame her for everything.

Sarah?

Of course. Sarah.

She spent far more time than
was necessary at Mary's lodgings.

Jim and Mary were just married,

making their own life,
making their own friends.

Then Sarah introduced
Alec Fairbairn to them.

I know it was not generously done.

Sarah seemed to want to
shame Jim Browner.

I don't know
what Jim had done to Sarah,

but she seemed to hate him.
I believe that...

You believe what?

Ask her.

Ask Sarah. She is here in the house
collecting her things.

Ask her if she did not mean Mary
to go off with Alec Fairbairn.

That's what she wanted.

I know it.

Ah, the message has been
received then.

Cafe, Monsieur.

Thank you for your help,
Inspector.

It's very difficult, Mr. Holmes.
We can't ignore the evidence.

What've we got?
Two severed ears in a parcel.

We've got the medical student,

Jacotett who's been thrown out
of the lady's house.

Strong motive. Parcel postmarked
Harwich on the nineteenth.

He was in Harwich on the nineteenth.
That's as good as you get.

Your logic seems foolproof Hawkins.

Thank you. Well... Yes.

I just regret that I haven't been able
to keep it out of the newspapers.

They're running the story
in tomorrow morning's first editions.

They've also managed to get hold
of Miss Susan Cushing's name.

She won't like that.

No. Poor woman.

This other matter then, Mr. Holmes.

You've clearly got some thoughts
on that, haven't you?

It's my belief, that a member of
Dr. Watson's profession,

possibly of some distinction,
has overstepped the mark.

The corpses all belong to pugilists,
amateur or otherwise.

What is the unfortunate characteristic
of boxers who have fought too long?

Well, there can be such
scarring of the brain

that the men behave
as if drunk, slurred speech,

loss of memory and so on.
They become punch drunk.

Precisely.

You mean somebody is studying
the pathology of brain tissues?

For all the best reasons,
I dare say.

And their passion of the subject
has outrun their judgment.

Sir Marcus Lanyon, I'll wager
a month's salary on Sir Marcus.

That is precisely his specialty

and he is impatient to a fault,
ruthlessly impatient.

There you have it, Inspector.

She is very down.

Like this ever since she got back
here this afternoon.

Miss Cushing.

Why did you quarrel with your
brother-in-law, Mr. Browner?

What? Who are you,
what are you doing here?

This is Sherlock Holmes,

he is investigating the
disappearance of your sister, Mary.

She's gone off with Alec Fairbairn,
that's all.

Why?

She had become frightened
of her husband.

Why?

Jim Browner was a drunkard.

He offered her violence.
He was beneath contempt.

What is your explanation for
the severed ears, Miss Cushing?

You saw the cardboard box.
At your sister's house.

Those severed ears were meant
for you, were they not?

The message was for you.
You understood what they meant.

Marcel Jacotett sent them.

He told me he might do something.

I didn't realize he would do
anything so disgusting.

She is lying, Watson.

She's lying through her teeth.

Gull is outside.

Excellent.

I've been to the shipping line
offices too.

And?

It's as you thought.
The "May Morning"-

set sail from London for Den Helder
on the seventeenth,

but a hogshead
got loose in her hold.

She sprang a plate and
had to put in for repairs.

To Harwich?

To Harwich. The crew were given
leave on the eighteenth.

The "May Morning" left
late on the nineteenth,

the day the parcel was posted.

Excellent Watson. We have it.

Mr. Holmes.

Mr. Gull.

They have telegraphed. Jim Browner
came off the ferry at Ramsgate at

seven o'clock this evening.

Good. I knew I could rely on you.

And I can rely on you, can I?

You can.

Does the name Sir Marcus Lanyon
mean anything to you?

It might.

He will be warned off.

The orders from which you
have been profiting will dry up

but so will the police
interest in you.

I'll be satisfied with that.

We've acquired a bargain, Mr. Gull.

Holmes.

The knots used on the parcel
were a bowline and a sheet bend.

Yes, sailor's knots.

You know that sailors deliberately
do not sharpen their knives?

Ah, in case of accidents.

Hence the crude amputations.

Harwich was the key and Browner
was there. Now, I suppose...

Browner, returned unexpectedly,
found his wife with Fairbairn.

He followed them.
He murdered them both.

He severed an ear from each

and sent them as he thought
to Sarah Cushing.

Of course,
he will go there immediately.

He will be desperate

for her to know that the severed ears
were for her, not for her sister.

Well, that being the case...

The railway is operating
as if it were a Sunday.

Why?

Because the Christmas holiday
is still on.

Do you realize, Browner could have
caught a much earlier train.

No, I did not know.

Mary.

What is this, Mr. Holmes?

A unique experience for you,
Inspector.

You may apprehend a murderer

before you have even acknowledged
there has been a murder.

Aye. Well you may stare.

Look at me Sarah Cushing,
this is your handiwork.

What have you done, Jim?

What have I done?

Nay, it's what you've done.

I beg you, Jim.
Look on me kindly.

Whatever I did, I did for you.

It was you.

You poisoned her mind.

I did it for you.

They have arrested the lodger.
I told them he did it.

They suspect nothing of you, Jim.
You can get away.

Get away?
You think I can get away?

Put it all behind me, do you think?
Do you? Well, you're mad.

It is me. It's in here.
Every last moment of it.

Comes out of the daylight at me.
Goes on and on.

I tell you, I dare not shut an eye
and sleep since I did it.

I'm never without one or
the other before me.

May the blood rot in your veins,
Sarah Cushing.

No, no.

I love you. I love you.

I believe you do.
I tell you something,

I'd rather have one kind word from
her I've killed than all your love.

I'd rather see her breathing one-

minute more than a lifetime
that you could give me.

Don't say that.
Don't say that. Don't say that.

She loved me,

that the rule of the business.

But she knew,

she knew, she knew I,

I thought more of my wife's
footprint in the mud

than I did of her, body and soul.

Whoever would have dreamt it?

And,

after you'd rejected
Sarah's advances?

I never said a word to Mary for
I thought it would grieve her.

Then I began to see a change
in Mary herself.

My wife had always
been so understanding.

Now she was suspicious of
everything I did.

We began to row about nothing,
nothing at all.

And it maddened me.

And this was Sarah's work?

I didn't see it then mind.

I just saw it all go wrong.

She and Mary were inseparable
and then,

well then I broke my blue ribbon
and began drinking again.

So Mary had some reason to be
disgusted with me now.

And then this Fairbairn fellow
chipped in.

He was a dashing,
swaggering sort of a chap.

Smart and curled, educated too
I reckon. He could talk he could.

Blind I was.

It was a little thing
put me on to him.

I came into the parlor unexpected
one day and as I came in

I saw the light of welcome
in my wife's eyes, but

when she saw it was me, she turned
away with a look of disappointment.

There was no one but Alec Fairbairn
whose steps she could mistake for mine.

I tell you, from that moment
on my peace was gone.

Sarah was in the kitchen and I went
straight through and I told her that

"if Fairbairn ever set foot
in my place again"

"I'd send her his ears
for a keepsake".

I believe I could wish you had
committed this deed of yours in France.

They acknowledge the crime
of passion there.

You won't let them leave me alone,
will you sir?

No.

I won't.

When I leave
I'll send an officer in.

I don't like to be alone, see.

Your turn.

Won't be a minute.

She made it go wrong, didn't she?

And you never thought of
anyone but me.

Did you, Jim?

She loved you and
she made me hate you.

There. It was if you had
a secret, you see.

She made me think the worst.

The secret was her love with me.

You should have got rid of her
from our lives, Jim.

I know. But I thought
it would hurt you.

Look at us now.

I was stupid. Blind as a pickle.

What is the meaning of it, Watson?

What is the object of this circle
of misery and violence and fear?

It must have a purpose

or our universe had no meaning and
that is unthinkable, but what purpose?

That is humanity's great problem

for which reason
so far has no answer.