Original subtitles

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.