All language subtitles for Sherlock Holmes s04e04 Wisteria Lodge.eng

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Mr. Scott Eccles.

Oh, Mr. Garcia.

I'm sorry I did not
recognize you at once.

Please allow me to
carry your case.

That's very civil of you.

Thank you very much.

I'm sorry if the weather

has been unkind
for your visit.

Unkind for you perhaps

but we British, you know,

we're hardy souls.

The county of Surrey is
particularly interesting

I'm looking forward
to showing you

my entire collection
of old maps.

I mean there's
Moore and Ogelby.

I got one or two
here I can show you.

He used to draw.

[Speaking Spanish]

This is
your house is it?

Yes.

Please.

Your welcome.

It's very nice.

I suppose Watson we
must look upon you

as a man of letters.

How do you define
the word 'grotesque'?

Grotesque.

Strange-remarkable.

No, no, no, no.

Surely there's
more to it than that.

Some underlying suggestion

of a tragic or terrible.

If you cast your mind
back to those narratives

with which
you've inflicted

a long-suffering public,

you will see how often
the word 'grotesque'

has deepened into
the criminal.

I suppose

the affair of
the redheaded men

was grotesque enough
at the outset.

Most grotesque affair

of the five orange pips.

Yes, which led straight
to a murderous conspiracy.

Now the word puts
me on the alert.

Have you it there?

I've just had the
most incredible

and grotesque experience.

May I consult
you Scott Eccles?

Post-Office,
Charring Cross.

A man or woman?

A man.

No woman would send a
reply-paid telegram.

She would have come.

Will you see him?

Oh my dear Watson,

you know how
bored I've been

since we locked up
Colonel Carruthers.

Life is commonplace

the newspapers
are sterile

audacity and romance seem
to have passed forever

from the criminal world.

Of course I'll see him.

Unless I'm
very much mistaken, this is our client.

Mr. Holmes?

Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.

Well are you Mr. Holmes?

Certainly.

Yes, Mr. Holmes,

I have just had
a most singular

and unpleasant experience.

No way in my life have
I been subject to...

to such embarrassment

and been placed in
such a position.

Please sit down,
Mr. Scott Eccles,

my friend and colleague
Doctor Watson.

In the first
place, my I ask,

why you have came
to me at all?

Well, sir,
it didn't appear

to be a matter which
concerned the police,

yet,

when you've
heard the facts,

you must admit

I couldn't just leave
it where it was.

Now the private detectives

they are a class with
whom I'm absolutely,

I have no sympathy.

Sit, Mr. Scott Eccles.

Nonetheless,

having heard your name...

Watson!

I decided...

Now in the second place,

why did you not
come to me at once?

What do you mean?

Well it is now a
quarter-past two.

Your telegram was
dispatched about one.

No one could glance at
your toilet and attire

without seeing that
your disturbance dates

from the moment
of your waking.

But you're right,
Mr. Holmes.

Yet I never gave a
thought to my toilet.

I was only too glad to
get out of such a house.

Oh no, no thank you.

You see but I have
been running round

making inquiries
before I came here.

I called the house
agents, you know, oh yes,

yes, and they
said... they said

that Mr. Garcia's rent
was paid up all right

and that everything was in
order in Wisteria Lodge.

Then they you'll come,
come, sir Eccles.

You know you're like
my friend, Watson,

who has the bad habit
of telling his stories

wrong end foremost.

Now please, please
arrange your thoughts

and let me know, in
their due sequence,

exactly what
those events are,

which have sent you out

unbrushed and unkempt,

with your dress boots and
waistcoat buttoned awry,

in search of advice
and assistance.

Well I'm a bachelor

and being of a
sociable turn

I cultivate a large
number of friends.

At the table of one
of them recently,

I met a young
fellow named Garcia,

a pleasant chap

of Spanish decent,

connected in some
way with the Embassy.

We discovered a common
interest in cartography

or so I thought.

That's the study
of old maps.

The plan was to retrace
Surrey as Thomas Mould

engraved it some
fifty years ago.

Well as soon as I arrived
yesterday evening

I knew something
was wrong.

The atmosphere
of the place,

the house was tumbledown,

depressing.

Garcia told me he
had a wonderful cook,

a half breed he had
picked up on his travels

but the dinner,

well it was
so ill-prepared

and served with
such bad grace

that it was barely edible.

I can assure you that
there were many times

in the course
of the evening

I wished I could
have invented some excuse to leave.

What did you say?

Well the rooms
is fascinating.

John Rogglbe.

Across the heat then?

Wasn't just heat lad, it
was all over the county.

I tell you, you
feeling all right?

Yes.

Sorry.

Please, Please.

Some more wine
for our guest.

Yes.

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

Are we expecting company?

I would like a drink of
that if it's possible.

And he made no remark

as to the contents
of the note?

None.

But for that moment

he gave up all pretence
at conversation.

He just sat there

smoking these
endless cigarettes.

About eleven I was
glad to go to bed.

Two hours later

he looked in at my door.

Did you ring?

Did I ring?

Awe, please don't wake up
it's nearly one o'clock.

Please go back to sleep.

Good night.

And now I come to the
amazing part of my tale.

When I woke it was
broad daylight,

nearly nine.

I had particularly asked
to be called at eight,

so I was very
much astonished

at this forgetfulness.

I say is anybody here?

I'd like some hot water.

I rang for the servant.

There was no response.

Somebody?

I say is there a
servant available.

This is damnable.

I went from room to room,

all were deserted.

Even my host room,

the bed had never
been slept in.

Foreign host,

foreign footman,

foreign cook,

all vanished in the night.

Your experience is,

so far as I know,

perfectly unique.

Now what else
can you tell me?

Well, I was furious.

I packed my bags

and I banged the
front door behind me

and I set out for Esher.

Then I called at
Allan Brothers',

the land agents,

and found it was from them

that the villa
had been rented.

Rented?

Well you see

I couldn't believe

that they had gone

simply to make
a fool of me.

I thought, you know,
it must be the rent

but I was wrong.

See the agent thanked
me for my warning

but said that the rent
had been paid in advance.

By the Spanish
embassy I imagine?

I called at the
Spanish embassy.

The man is
unknown to them.

I also asked my friend
who introduced us

and he seemed to know less
about Garcia than I did.

Now, this house,

Wisteria Lodge,

I wonder if it's
still as you left it.

What's troubling
you, Watson?

Huh?

Well I fear some mundane
explanation of the events

may await us upon
our arrival.

It's possible.

We can thank
our lucky fate,

which will rescue
us for a few hours

from the insufferable
fatigues of idleness.

This gentleman recommends
The Bull in the village,

that's if we're
to stay overnight.

I asked him if
he knew Garcia

or his servants.

Did he?

No.

Nothing unusual
about the outside.

Let's see what the
interior holds for us.

I don't suppose we
could be charged

with housebreaking can we?

Who on earth could
leave such a mess?

Yes indeed.

Take a glance around
the house, Watson.

Mr. Holmes?

Welcome to Wisteria
Lodge, Mr. Holmes.

Inspector Baynes of the
Surrey Constabulary.

This is Constable Downing.

And you are Mr.
John Scott Eccles

of Popham House,

Lee?

I am.

Mr. Scott Eccles

we've been following you
about all the morning.

You traced him through
his telegram, I presume?

Exactly, Mr. Holmes.

We picked up the scent
at Charring Cross Post-Office.

But what'd you want?

And why did you follow me?

We wish a statement,
Mr. Scott Eccles,

as to the events which
led up to the death

of Mr. Aloysius Garcia,

of Wisteria Lodge,

near Esher.

Dead did you say?

Oh yes sir, he is dead.

Yes.

But how?

An accident?

Murder, sir, if ever
there was one on earth.

Good God!

This is awful!

You don't mean
that I'm suspected?

Well, sir, you're
note was found

on the dead man's body

and from it we learned

that you had planned
to stay here

in this house last night.

So I did.

Oh, you did, did you?

Wait.

Baynes, I mean surely

all you need is a
simple statement.

Yes, Mr. Holmes,
but it is my duty

to warn Mr. Scott Eccles

that it may be
used against him.

Awe, this is my fellow
colleague, Dr. Watson,

Inspector Baynes.

Yes of course.

Doctor your attention.

Mr. Scott Eccles
you look as if

you could do with a drink.

I found some brandy in
the library if you think...

Thank you.

[Speaking Spanish]

Well I can assure you,
Inspector that, you know,

every word I've said
it is the truth.

I'm bound to say,
Mr. Scott Eccles,

that everything
you've said

does agree with the facts

as they've come
to our notice.

For example, the note that
arrived during dinner.

Mr. Scott Eccles what
became of the note?

Well, Garcia rolled it up

and threw it in the fire.

What do you say
to that, Baynes?

It was a dog-grate,
Mr. Holmes,

he over pitched it.

I found this
unburned of the back.

You must have made
a very careful

examination of the house

to find a single
pellet of paper.

Oh, I did,
Mr. Holmes, I did.

It's my way.

The note is written on
ordinary cream-laid paper

with a watermark.

It's a quarter-sheet.

The paper's cut
off in two snips

with a
short-bladed scissors.

It's been folded twice

and sealed with
scarlet wax.

It's addressed to

Mr. Garcia,
Wisteria Lodge

and it says

Our own colors,
green and white.

Green open,

white shut.

Main stairs,

first corridor,

seventh right,

green baize.

Godspeed.

D.

It's in a
woman's writing,

done with a very
sharp-pointed pen,

but the address is either
done with a different pen

or by someone else

because it's
thicker and bolder,

as you may see,
Mr. Holmes.

It's a remarkable note.

I really must
congratulate you

on your
attention to detail.

There are a few
trifling points

which might
perhaps be added.

The seal is a
sleeve-link

what else is of
such a shape?

The scissors were
bent nail scissors.

Short as the
two snips are,

you can distinctly see

the same slight
curve in each.

I thought I had squeezed
it dry, Mr. Holmes,

but I see there was some
still left over after all.

I'm bound to say

that I make nothing
of the note

except that there's
something's on hand,

and a woman, as usual,

is at the bottom of it.

I'm very glad you found
the note, Inspector,

because it
collaborates my story.

But, you know, I do
beg to point out

that I haven't yet heard

what has happened
to Mr. Garcia,

or what has become
of his household.

As for Mr. Garcia,
that's easily answered.

He was found dead

on Oxshott Common
this morning.

His head had been beaten
to a pulp by a sandbag

or some such object,

which had crushed
rather than wounded.

Apparently he'd been

first struck
down from behind,

but his assailant
went on beating him

long after he was dead.

It was a very
furious assault.

Awe, I mean this
activity that we saw

has to be approached
at the highest.

Were there any footsteps

or clues as to
the criminal?

No, no, as yet.

Had Garcia been robbed?

No.

No sign of robbery.

Well our tenants
seem to have left

little or nothing
behind them.

Apart from the clothes,

some pipes, a few novels,

two of them in Spanish.

One of them is missing.

Yeah.

We might assume the
'G' stands for Garcia.

Family heirloom perhaps.

The other was
not on the body

nor has it been found
in the vicinity

though my men are
still looking.

Do you wish to look
around the house?

A brief look.

Holmes!

Holmes!

Holmes!

Watson!

What have you seen?

Could have been the
devil for all I know.

Staring eyes
at the window.

Negroid features,
mulatto like.

It's got away
across the field.

Maybe just as well

I don't think I could
have laid hands on him.

Awe, look at this.

If he is all the same
scale as his foot

then he is
certainly a giant.

Well whoever he was,
whatever he wanted

he's gone for the present,

and we have more important
things to attend to.

Downing, you stay here.

And you sir shall come
to the station with me.

Yes sir.

And let me have a
written statement.

Yes certainly
I'd come at once.

I hope you don't my

collaborating with
you Inspector.

I'd be honored,
Mr. Holmes.

I'd be honored.

Inspector, is
there any clue

as to the exact hour
of the man's death?

One o'clock.

It rained about that time

and the death certainly
occurred before the rain.

No.

No, no.

That's perfectly
impossible, Mr. Baynes.

No, no, his voice is
very unmistakable.

I could swear to it

that it was he who
addressed me in my room

at that very hour.

Well he spoke
to me, you know,

in that funny
accent of his.

He said he's it's
nearly one o'clock.

Remarkable but we must
not confuse the unlikely

with the impossible.

What does he mean of that?

Certainly some strange
people occupy that house,

Mr. Holmes.

One of them is dead.

Did some of his companions

follow him and murder him?

If so, we should have them

for every port is watched

but my views are
different, Mr. Holmes.

Yes sir, my views
are very different.

You have a theory?

And I'll work it
myself, Mr. Holmes.

Your name is
already made,

I have yet to make mine

and I shall like to be
able to say afterwards,

that I solved it
without your help.

Then you do
follow your path

and I will follow mine.

Goodbye, Mr. Scott Eccles.

Goodbye, Mr. Holmes.

Scott Eccles.

Let us consider this note.

Is there a woman involved?

A jealous husband?

Godspeed.

Godspeed D, that
must be our guide.

The man was a Spaniard

I suggest that the 'D'
stands for Delores.

It's a common female
name in Spain.

A Spaniard would write
to a Spaniard in Spanish,

Watson.

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

Henderson, High Gable,
George Ffolliott.

Mr. Holmes?

Look what I've found.

In the bush.

Excellent.

I'm terribly sorry.

I've seemed to have...

[speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

You are trespassing.

I'm terribly sorry.

I've seemed to have
lost my direction.

Is it your custom
to wonder...

Awe, Doctor Rayfield,

my friend and fellow
cartographer.

Yes indeed.

You were so engrossed

in trying to chase
the bridal path

to a now vanished Hamlet

of Obligor St Mary

that we mislaid
each other.

And since we're late for
Mr. Henderson, I thought,

I'm so glad you
found your way here.

Well I very
much regret that

Mr. Henderson is too
busy to see you today.

No Lucas,

I will see them.

Gentlemen.

The purpose of our visit

is to inquire into the
history of High Gable,

which we believe has an

intriguing and
blood fested past.

Since the days of the
English civil war.

I would have no
knowledge of that.

I'm only a
recent invader.

But there are local
records in the library.

There are no
records of any past

found in this house.

I see.

Then I will detain
you no more.

Good day.

I thought you
were in London.

For the morning only.

Well with your
usual reluctance

to confide your
thoughts to me

I exercised my own
mind in the matter.

You'd circled two
names on your list,

Henderson and High Gable.

Well the others are,

per say,
respectable people.

Far aloof from romance

but this man, Henderson,

but he's a very
singular creation.

Yes indeed.

As you may
have noticed...

no tea for me...

the house is
double winged.

One side the servants the
other side the family.

There is one single
connecting door

for the Henderson
family meals.

I'm sure you couldn't
have observed all that

in the short time
we there, Holmes.

I was looking for
evidence in gossip

and discharged servants

and I was lucky to
enough to find one

who had been sacked

by his imperious
master Henderson

and a victim of
violent temper.

Now the Henderson girls,

who we encountered,

have a governess.

A Miss Burnet,
an English woman.

Here is the very
singular fact.

She has not been seen

since the night
of the murder.

She has utterly vanished.

I've seen her.

Of course,

I've seen her
and she is alive.

I saw her at the
window at High Gable.

My God a prisoner.

She slipped my mind.

The moment those awful
girls descended upon me.

She is alive,
I've seen her.

That's the man
I saw and chased.

Baynes has arrested
the wrong man.

Now Watson, quickly,
we must stop him.

Is he the murderer?

Did he kill a Spaniard?

Where did you capture him?

This man is the
murdered man's cook

who disappeared on the
night of the crime.

We believe there
were valuables

left in the house

and that there
abstraction

was the motive.

The man had been seen

in the vicinity of the
house once before.

The second time,

subdue him Higgins.

The second time we let
a man escape for him

we shall be
applying for remand

when the prisoner's
brought before the magistrate.

That will be all
for now, gentlemen.

Thank you very much.

Was it on the way?

Where did you capture him?

Baynes?

I am not convinced that
you're on the right line.

Mr. Holmes
doesn't want you

to commit yourself too far

unless you're sure.

Oh, you're very
kind gentlemen

but we did agree

to work on our own
lines didn't we?

And that's what I'm doing.

You're welcome
always to my news.

This fellow is as
strong as a carthorse

and fierce as the devil.

He nearly bit off
Constable Downing's thumb

before they managed
to master him.

He speaks hardly
any English

and we can get nothing
out of him but grunts.

And you think that
you have evidence

that he murdered
his late master?

I didn't say
so, Mr. Holmes.

I didn't say so.

We all have our
own little ways.

You will go yours

and I will go mine.

That was the agreement.

So be it.

I think Baynes is
riding for the fall.

I would have to
agree with you there.

You appreciate our
difficulty, Watson.

There's nothing
upon which

we can apply
for a warrant.

And with our
worthy Inspector

making his arrests

our theory would
seem fantastic

if laid before
the magistrate.

Yet you think the lady's
in danger of her life?

Yes.

I'm sure of it Watson,

therefore we must take

the law into
our own hands.

Top left bay.

We could reach it
from that outhouse.

Come.

They're heading
for the station.

We'll follow the
coach to London.

Right.

Stop the train.

Stop the train.

Stop it.

Why, Mr. Holmes,

you have given me the
very evidence I wanted.

We were both on the same
scent from the start.

Were you after
Henderson too?

Quite so well, you first

and then
Doctor Watson here

came crawling through
the under growth

at High Gable.

I was up a tree
observing you both.

It was just a question

of who got the
evidence first.

Why did you arrest
the mulatto?

Well I was sure
that Henderson,

as he calls himself,

felt he was suspected

and he would make no move

so long as he thought
he was in danger

so I arrested
the wrong man.

You know you
will rise high

in your profession
Inspector.

You have instinct
and intuition.

Thank you, Mr. Holmes,

but we can't arrest

without Miss Burnet's
evidence can we?

Oh she'll be able to give
you that in a moment

but tell me who is
this man Henderson?

He's Don Murillo,

known as the Tiger
of San Pedro.

One of the most
dangerous men

out of Central America.

Oh indeed.

Most elude and blood
thirsty tyrant.

Who imposed his
earliest vices

upon a caring people for
almost twelve years.

Was it the San Pedro
colors green and white

that first put
you onto it?

That and my
visit to London

to the Spanish embassy

in the foreign office.

Now please this is
your case, Inspector.

Five years ago

there was a rising
against the tyrant

but it was an empty palace
they stormed on Murillo,

his secretary,

two children and
all the wealth

had escaped by ship

and from that moment

they disappeared from
the face of the earth.

His identity has
been a subject

of constant comment in
the European press.

We discovered
him a year ago.

Miss Burnet?

How came you into this
matter Miss Burnet?

An English lady in such
a murderous affair.

Because there is no
other way in the world

by which justice
can be gained.

What does the
law of England

care about the
rivers of blood

shed so many years
ago in San Pedro

or the shipload
of treasure

that this man has
stolen from us?

To you

they're like
crimes committed on some other planet.

We know.

My real name is
Signora Victor Durando.

My husband was
the minister

of San Pedro in London.

He met and
married me there.

A nobler man never
lived upon the earth.

Unhappily, Murillo
heard of his exodus

and recalled him
on some pretext,

and shot him

by a stroke of...

of premonition.

My husband had refused
to take me with him.

Then came the downfall
of the monster.

He escaped as you
have described.

But the many whose
lives he had ruined,

whose loved ones had
suffered torture

and death at his hands,

would not let
the matter rest.

We banded ourselves
into a society,

which should
never be dissolved

until the work was done.

It was my part to attach
myself to his household

and keep the others in
touch with his movements.

I secured the
position as governess.

[Speaking Spanish]

He little knew
that the woman

who faced him
at every meal

was the woman
whose husband

he had hurried
to eternity.

I smiled on him,

did my duty to
his children,

and bided my time.

An attempt was made
in Paris and failed.

We zigzagged here and
there swiftly over Europe

to throw off our pursuers

and finally returned
to High Gable.

Garcia had been waiting
there for nearly a year

with two trusted
companions,

all fired with the same
reasons for revenge.

Who was Garcia?

The son of
Fernando Garcia.

One of the former highest
dignitaries of San Pedro

who was murdered...

like your husband.

This note you sent,

you say it was
intercepted.

During the day

Murillo took
every precaution

and never went outside

without his
satellite Lucas.

Even at night the man
was forever on the alert

and continually
changed his room.

We had arranged

that I would send Garcia
final instructions.

The doors would be opened

and the signal of a
green or white light

in a window,

which faced the drive,

was to give notice
if all was safe

or if the attempt had
better be postponed.

To whom are you
writing this letter?

Which describes the room

in which I intend
to sleep tonight.

Who is your confederate?

Who is your confederate?

What is your real
name Miss Burnet?

My name is Durando.

Durandos widow.

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

[Speaking Spanish]

You can kill me now

what is my life worth

you have destroyed
everything that I love.

Who are you writing to?

Tell me.

Don't you remember?

Who?

It's a man you fear.

He's waiting for you.

He's Garcia.

Garcia?

[Speaking Spanish]

Wisteria Lodge,

he is waiting to
dispatch you to hell.

You fiend.

I knew the boy well.

His father was once
my dearest friend.

You murdered him.

He betrayed me

and so did your husband.

And now they send
the wives and sons.

Will you never learn?

I am indestructible.

At first they
were of a mind

to let him into the house

and kill him as a
detected burglar

but they feared
the inquiry

might publicly
expose them.

[Speaking Spanish]

Garcia, some day
justice will come.

That is as certain

as the rise of
tomorrow's sun.

I have no doubt
that my life too

hung in the balance.

Most of the time I was
confined to my room.

Terrorized by the
most horrible threats

to break my spirit.

Occasionally I
was allowed out

but only when they had
first drugged my food

and it was at this state

that you found me
at the station.

And thanks to
this good man

I am beyond their
power forever.

Well Inspector,

our police work is done

but our legal work begins.

Exactly, Mr. Holmes, yes.

Garcia's death

in the hands of a
portable lawyer

could look like an
act of self-defense.

But I think better
of the law than that.

Self-defense is one thing

but to entice a
man in cold-blood

with the object of
murdering him is another.

Whatever danger
you fear from him.

I think we shall
justice done

at the next
[unintelligible].

I thought you had
released the mulatto.

Yes sir, he's a
free man again.

And your man is with the
fugitives on the train?

He is, sir, yes, and
I've wired Scotland Yard

to have their men
at Waterloo Station

to receive them, yes.

You know I really must
congratulate, Inspector.

Your powers, if I may
so, without offense,

are superior to
your opportunities.

Your right, Mr. Holmes.

In the province
as we stagnate

a case like this
gives a man a chance.

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