Original subtitles

♪

Oh, good morning, Holmes.

There was a letter for you this morning.

Good morning, Watson.

I trust you've slept well?

Thank you.

♪

♪

So, Watson, tell me what you think of this.

534 C2 13 127.

Oh, what is it? Some sort of code?

It is indeed, Watson, the work, no doubt, of my informant

who works under the alias of "Porlock."

But surely it's not of much use sending a cipher to someone

unless they have the key to the cipher ?

Do you have that?

No, I don't, but this much I do know:

the cipher is a reference to the words

in a page of some book.

But until I learn which page and which book,

I can do nothing.

If it's a code based on a book, then why write

Douglas and Birlstone?

Clearly because those are words which are not contained

in the page in question.

♪

♪

And why has this Porlock fellow not indicated the name

of the book?

Pure native shrewdness, my dear Watson.

That innate cunning which is the delight of your friend

would surely prevent you from disclosing a secret code

and the key to it in the same envelope.

♪

I expect a message or perhaps even the book

to arrive in the next mail.

♪

Oh, we shall see soon enough.

The second mail has just been delivered.

♪

You were right, Holmes.

This letter is in the same handwriting.

It's comparatively easy to predict

the actions of such as Porlock

when one is constantly at odds with some

of the greatest criminal brains in the world.

♪

This is unfortunate.

"It is too dangerous for me to continue.

I dare not contact you again.

Burn the cipher message, which can be of no use

to you now.

Signed, Fred Porlock."

But why write us a letter to tell us

he will not give us the cipher ?

I would suggest it's because the people

he's informed us of must be dangerous.

Probably killers.

♪

♪

It's pretty maddening to think

that an important secret may lie on this paper,

yet it is beyond human power to penetrate it.

Perhaps there are points which have escaped your attention.

Let us consider the problem in the light of pure reason.

I have already deduced that Porlock referred to a book.

♪

Ah, yes.

But which book?

There are a lot of books in this world.

Quite so, Watson.

But we do know several things about the book.

Look here.

The message begins with a number: 534.

It is reasonable to take that as a page number.

So we have established that our book must have

at least 534 pages

and would therefore be a large book.

And C2 would indicate chapter 2?

The letter C surely cannot indicate a chapter.

For one thing, if we are only in chapter 2

on page 534,

then the first chapter would be inordinately long.

And for another, if we know the page, we don't need

to know the chapter.

Oh. Well, what does it refer to?

It would be column 2.

But you still don't know which book.

The next highest number in the note is 293,

so the book must have long columns that contain

that number of words.

As to the book itself, my dear Watson, had it been

an unusual one, Porlock would have sent a copy to me.

I therefore reason that it must be a very common book.

Could it be the bible?

I doubt that.

There are too many editions.

Too many shapes and sizes.

Ah, what about Whitaker's Almanac?

Could that be it?

Excellent, Watson.

Let's see if the message makes sense.

There...

is...

danger.

♪

There is danger.

May come very soon.

One Douglas rich country.

Now at Birlstone house, Birlstone.

Confidence is pressing.

Ooh, what a strange note.

What does it mean?

(knock)

Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.

Inspector MacDonald, very nice to see you.

Good day, gentlemen.

And what brings you to Baker Street, Mr. Mac?

I need your help, Mr. Holmes.

This?

Douglas?

Birlstone?

It's witchcraft.

That is the answer to a cipher that Dr. Watson and I have had

occasion to solve.

Your solution is correct.

John Douglas of Birlstone Manor House

was horribly murdered.

Last night.

This informant of yours knows far too much for my liking.

It seems to me as if all I have to do

is arrest him as an accessory,

and he'll be forced to supply us with enough information

to clear this case up quick smart.

No doubt, Mr. Mac.

How do you propose to lay your hands

on a man who disguises his writing, adopts an assumed name,

gives no address, and posts his letters

from Camberwell Post Office, one of the biggest in London?

Ugh.

All right then.

What do you know about Porlock?

Very little, except he is well connected with the worst

criminals in London and must keep his crime fighting

activities well and truly covered.

Very well.

I'm on my way to Birlstone House

to investigate this murder.

And I called in to see if you and Dr. Watson would care

to come with me.

White Mason, our local officer,

suggested I seek your help.

He promises the case will be worthy of your mettle.

We accept.

Come, Watson.

♪

♪

♪

Sergeant Wilson, now what can you tell us about John Douglas?

He was about five foot, nine inches tall,

well built, with light brown hair and a moustache.

He talked with an American accent.

Did he have any enemies?

None that I ever heard of.

On the contrary.

In the five years he's lived at Birlstone House,

he's become well liked and even much admired for his bravery.

♪

You mention bravery, sergeant.

Yes, sir.

He was a fearless rider.

He took many afoul, which would have

stopped a lesser man.

One time when the vicarage caught fire,

he was the only one brave enough to go inside to save property

even after the brigade had given up.

Who else lives at Birlstone House, sergeant?

His wife, sir.

And a very quiet lady she is, too.

That's of course Ames the butler and Mrs. Allen,

the housekeeper.

In addition, last night, Mr. Barker,

an old friend of the family, was there.

Mr. Barker knew Mr. Douglas from the old days

when he was in America.

That's where he made all his money, sir:

gold mining in California.

♪

♪

It was I who discovered the body, gentlemen.

I've already told the story to your colleague Mr. Mason here.

It was half past 11 last night.

I was sitting by the fire in my bedroom when I heard

a gun go off.

It sounded muffled.

The shot appeared to come from downstairs,

so I ran down to see what it was.

When I got to the study, I saw Douglas's feet

sticking out from behind the sofa.

♪

One look was sufficient for me to be certain he was dead.

His face was unrecognizable.

The sawn off shotgun was lying across his chest,

and it looked as though his face had taken the full force

of both barrels.

I lit the table lamp and rang for the servants.

(bell ringing)

♪

Before they arrived, I quickly covered his head

with a tablecloth and went to the door.

♪

There's been an accident.

You mustn't come in here.

John has been shot.

I'm afraid he's dead.

♪

Mrs. Allen, you'd better take your mistress to her room,

and I think you should stay with her.

Ames, would you send for Dr. Wood?

And I think you'd better get Sergeant Wilson

at the same time.

♪

And you were saying nothing has been touched in here?

Not a thing, sir.

Uh, not a thing.

I can vouch for that.

He was lying just as you see him now.

This candle was burning on the table.

I put it out after I'd lit the lamp.

That's horrible.

There's obviously nothing I can do here.

I'll just make a preliminary examination,

and then I'll leave you to it.

What time did you raise the drawbridge, Mr. Ames?

Oh, six o'clock, sergeant.

Same time as always.

In that case, Mr. Barker, if you came into this study

straight after the shot, then it's quite possible

the murderer was actually in the moat

when you found the body.

Could he not still be in the house?

We don't think so.

Unless I missed my guess, that smear is blood.

The murderer stood on this ledge when he climbed

through the window to get away.

What do you make of this?

It's not a tattoo.

It's more like a brand to me.

I don't profess to know the meaning of it,

but I've noticed it on him many times over the years.

And so have I.

And whenever the master rolled up his sleeves.

♪

VV 341.

I can't think what that means.

I will not be sorry when White Mason gets here

to take over this mystery.

His wedding ring has gone.

He always wore his wedding ring under that nugget ring,

and now it's gone.

♪

Well, gentlemen, that's the whole story

of what happened last night.

Thank you, Mr. Barker, but I feel we need to give this

a little more thought.

The murderer used buckshot cartridges.

See here the triggers are wired together

so that when the back one is pulled, both barrels discharge.

I can't read the manufacturer's name properly,

but I can make out P-E-N.

That would be the Pennsylvania Small Arms company,

a well-known American firm.

That would suggest the intruder is American.

No doubt he sawed off the barrel so he could conceal the gun

in a case or under his coat.

Hold on a minute.

What real evidence is there that anyone entered this house?

What about this open window?

The blood on the sill?

This strange card?

Oh, that could have all been a setup to take us

along the wrong path.

I'd like to examine the other side of the moat

for traces of anyone climbing out.

♪

Perhaps he drowned in the moat?

That's not very likely.

The water is only three feet deep.

Soon after I got here last night,

I sent an order to all police in the district

to look out for anyone wearing wet clothes.

I've heard nothing.

So whoever it was has made good his escape.

Or had a dry suit hidden somewhere?

Where were you when you heard the shot?

Well, sir, I didn't actually hear the shot.

I was in the pantry when the bell rang.

It kept on ringing.

I wondered if something was wrong, so I hurried

to the study.

How did Mr. Douglas behave during these last few days?

Did he give any impression that he thought

his life was in danger?

Funny you should ask that, sir.

♪

The day before the murder, he seemed quite jittery.

I remember when he asked me to raise the drawbridge

last night.

He said he always felt safer when it was up.

He must have been nervous.

He cut himself shaving.

I'm glad you confirmed that.

I'd intended to ask you why he had

that sticking plaster on his chin.

♪

What's all that commotion?

I think they're yelling something

about a bicycle.

It sounds as if they've found a bicycle hidden in the woods.

Come on, quickly!

Let's go!

♪

Only a spanner and oil can.

Look at the mud on this bike: it's come a long way.

We must track down the owner.

Whoever left it here must be the killer.

I'd rather think not, inspector.

Come, Watson, you and I can spend our time more profitably

talking with Ames back at the house.

♪

Could you pass that dumbbell to me, please, Ames?

It's quite heavy, sir.

Quite so, Ames.

Quite so.

Was your master in the habit of exercising

with only one dumbbell?

Where is the mate to this one?

I don't know, sir.

I've not seen it.

Can you account for these?

No, sir.

This room was thoroughly cleaned yesterday.

Mrs. Allen would make certain of that.

They must have been left by...

By the murderer, of course.

The room was lit only by the candle

John Douglas was carrying.

The murderer hid in the corner, leaving those footprints.

When he was surprised by Douglas, he shot him

and escaped through that window.

Don't you agree, Holmes?

No, I don't.

If he performed as you have suggested, he would have killed

with the noisiest of weapons when quiet

was his best defense against discovery.

Having roused the whole household, he must have stopped

to remove the wedding ring from his victim's finger.

Then he left his calling card, "VV 341," and putting down

his gun, he took instead a dumbbell.

After that, he made his escape, leaving his bicycle behind

where it could be easily discovered and its owner traced.

Too much against the balance of probability, eh, Holmes?

Exactly, Watson.

I wonder if I might talk with Mrs. Allen.

She may know of this mystery than she is aware.

When I've spoken to her, I'd like a few words

with Mrs. Douglas.

Spare the ladies the unpleasant memories of this study.

Perhaps you'd ask them to join me in the library.

As you wish, sir.

♪

♪

(knocking)

Come in.

♪

Come in!

♪

Come in, Mrs. Allen.

I'm sorry.

I didn't hear you answer.

I'm afraid I'm a little deaf.

A common enough affliction.

I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Allen.

Because your bedroom is close to the study, I was hopeful

you may have heard something last night.

I was in my room getting ready for bed when I heard Mr. Ames

running past my door, shouting that something had happened,

so I followed him.

As a matter of fact, I didn't actually hear a shot.

It's funny, because my deafness is not too bad.

It's funny too, because I did hear a door slam

about half an hour before that.

What happened next?

When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw Mr. Barker

coming out of the study.

He was obviously very shaken.

He shouted that the master had been shot dead.

He told me to take Mrs. Douglas to her room and stay with her.

♪

How did Mrs. Douglas take the news?

Did she try to go to her husband?

No, sir.

She turned on her heel and went straight back up the stairs.

I stayed with her all night.

She just sat with her head in her hands.

I thought she took it quite well.

Thank you, Mrs. Allen.

You've been very helpful.

You may go.

In the unlikely event that I shall ever marry,

I should hope to inspire in my wife some feeling

which would prevent her from being walked off

by a housekeeper when my corpse is lying just a few feet away.

Are you suggesting that in some way Mrs. Douglas is implicated

in the murder of her own husband?

♪

Tell me, Mrs. Douglas: what precisely were you doing

when the alarm was given?

I was getting ready for bed when I heard the shot.

I ran at once to the study.

Could you give us any idea of how long

your husband had been downstairs

before you heard the shot?

No, I cannot say for sure.

He always did the rounds of the house

before going to bed.

He was very nervous of fire.

You've known your husband only in England, have you not?

Yes.

He's lived here for ten years.

We married five years ago.

Have you ever heard him speak of anything which occurred

in America that might bring some danger to him?

Can a husband ever carry a secret with him all his life,

without the woman who loves him suspecting it?

I knew because of his refusal to talk about some episodes

in his American life.

I knew it by certain precautions he took.

I knew it by certain words he let fall.

I knew it by the way he looked at unexpected strangers.

He was always on his guard.

But most of all, I knew it because

one day he said to me, "Are we never

to get out of the valley of fear?"

♪

You told us that when you entered the room,

there was only a lighted candle on the table.

Yes, that is so.

You once rang for help?

I did.

And it arrived speedily?

Within a minute.

Yet, when help arrived, the candle was out,

and the lamp had been lit.

The candle threw a very bad light.

The lamp was on the table, so I lit it.

Well, what do you make of it, Watson?

♪

I don't believe that fellow, Barker.

And I wonder if there is not some sort of conspiracy

between he and Mrs. Douglas.

A lie, Watson.

A great, big, thumping, obtrusive, uncompromising lie:

that's what meets us.

The whole story told by Barker is a lie.

But the Barker story is corroborated by Mrs. Douglas.

Therefore, she is also lying.

How do you actually know they are lying?

That's elementary, my dear Watson.

Elementary.

Ames didn't hear the shot.

You'll remember he was in the pantry and was summoned

to the study by the bell.

Mrs. Allen didn't hear the shot because she's a little deaf,

although she says she was alerted by the noise

made by Ames as he hurried pass her bedroom door.

Only Mrs. Douglas and Barker say they heard the shot.

Sergeant Wilson told us that Douglas was well known

for his bravery.

Would a brave man hand over his wedding ring?

I think not.

The fact that so little of the candle had been burned

shows there was no lengthy discussion

between Douglas and his murderer.

There was no time for the assassin

to remove the wedding ring after the shot.

Ask yourself, Watson:

would a murderer choose the noisiest weapon available,

run the risk of rousing the household,

then remove the wedding ring and replace the nugget ring

that was with it?

Of course he wouldn't.

The assassin must have spent some time alone with his victim,

and that must have been after the lamp was lit.

Would you bring me your umbrella, Watson,

and then leave me to read and think?

There is one further matter which I must yet resolve.

An umbrella, Holmes?

♪

And what is this further matter?

Whatever happened to the missing dumbbell?

♪

♪

Did you discover the owner of the bicycle?

We did, indeed.

A man named Hargrave registered two days ago

at the commercial hotel in Tumbridge Wells.

The day after he arrived, he left on his bicycle

and hasn't been seen since.

Obviously, he's our man.

The timing is perfect.

He committed the murder, then ran for it.

Leaving his bicycle where he was bound to be discovered quickly

and not checking out of the hotel,

a manager would surely report

the sudden disappearance of a guest to the police.

Well, we'll have him soon enough, anyway.

His description has gone out on the wire and he--

What did he look like?

Well, they don't seem to have taken any particular

stock of him, but the porter, the clerk, and the chambermaid

all agreed that he's five feet, nine inches tall,

about 50 years old, hair grizzled,

moustache gray, nose curved, a general appearance,

fierce facial expression.

And he's an American.

Well, aside from the fierce face,

you might have described Douglas himself.

You recall that Sergeant Wilson said Douglas was--

Exactly as the inspector just said!

About five foot nine inches tall,

well built, with gray-brown hair and a moustache.

And he talked with an American accent.

Did you get anything else?

Only that he was dressed in a heavy gray suit

with a reefer jacket and he wore a short yellow

overcoat and soft cap.

It is our opinion that Hargrave left his hotel

yesterday morning and rode here with the gun

hidden under his overcoat.

He probably watched and waited all day for an opportunity

to get into the house and shoot Douglas.

We conclude that he hid behind the curtain in the study,

and when Douglas entered, he shot him and escaped.

Well, what do you think of our theory, Mr. Holmes?

Well, it's very good and clear as far as it goes.

I say that the crime was committed

a half an hour earlier than we have been told

and that Mrs. Douglas and Barker are both

in a conspiracy to conceal something,

and they aided the murderer's escape.

If your theory is right, Mr. Holmes,

then we must exchange one mystery for another.

And in some respects a worse one.

Mrs. Douglas has never been to America.

Why should she want to protect the American assassin

of her husband?

I propose to spend the evening in the murder room reading,

and I might even go fishing.

I'll see you gentlemen in the morning.

♪

Was your evening successful, Mr. Holmes?

Did you catch any fish?

In a manner of speaking, yes.

I spent a very pleasant and informative evening

reading about this fine old house.

Let me give you an example.

Erected in the fifth year of the reign of James I,

the manor house of Birlstone presents one

of the finest surviving examples

of the moated Jacobean residence.

You are making fools of us, Mr. Holmes.

Do calm yourself, inspector.

I'm sure he has a reason, haven't you Holmes?

Indeed I have.

Are you aware, gentlemen, that this house was taken

in 1644 in the course of our civil war,

and that Charles the king was concealed here

for several days, and also that George II stayed here?

And what's that got to do with us?

Breadth of view, my dear Mr. Mac,

is one of the essentials of our profession.

But I'll drop history and get down to present day facts.

It would please to learn that Mrs. Douglas

is not pining for her husband.

I am told by the good Ames that she ate

an excellent dinner last night.

During the evening in the study I decided to ask you to issue

an order to drain the moat.

Drain the moat?

I don't know if it's possible.

Get some paper, Watson, and I'll dictate a note

to Mrs. Douglas.

♪

It has struck me that it is our duty

to drain the moat in the hope

that we may find something which may bear

upon our investigation.

I have made arrangements for the workmen to start

diverting the stream tomorrow morning.

I thought it best to explain matters beforehand.

Deliver that note to Mrs. Douglas

at four o'clock this afternoon.

And at sunset, let us meet behind the laurel bushes

on the bank opposite the study.

In the meantime, I suggest you go for a stroll.

This inquiry has come to a definite pause.

I saw something you should know about.

Before dinner yesterday I came across Mrs. Douglas and Barker

laughing and joking together in the garden.

What do you make of that?

I've thought a lot about the relationship

of Mrs. Douglas and Barker.

Tonight, I expect to solve the mystery.

♪

It looks as if they're getting ready

for bed over there.

That's what we should be doing.

We've been here for hours, and I'm tired and cold.

Shouldn't be much longer.

♪

What's she doing?

♪

Come on, we must catch him!

♪

(banging on door)

♪

Come on, Ames!

Hurry now, or he'll get away!

Ah, Mr. Holmes.

♪

Inspector!

♪

What the devil is the meaning of all this?

This is what we're after.

This bundle weighted with a dumbbell,

which you've just dragged from the bottom of the moat.

Ah, well--

How do you know that?

Elementary, my dear Watson.

Because I put it there.

You put it there?

You put the bundle in the moat?

I don't understand.

Perhaps I should have said I replaced it there.

Inspector, you will remember that I was somewhat struck

by the absence of a dumbbell.

When water is near and a weight is missing, it is reasonable

to suppose that something may have been sunk in the water.

My idea was at least worth testing.

So last night I stayed in this room

until everyone had gone to bed.

Then, with the crook of Dr. Watson's umbrella,

I fished out and inspected the bundle you now see.

You will notice this long pocket.

For holding the sawn-off shotgun.

Exactly.

Note also the label inside the coat.

Neil Outfitter, Vermissa, USA.

Reference to a good atlas will disclose that Vermissa

is in Vermissa Valley.

It would surely not be too far-fetched an idea

that the VV on the card near the body

might stand for Vermissa Valley,

or that this very valley which sends forth emissaries of murder

may be the valley of fear which John Douglas

mentioned to his wife.

Well, I would accept that, Holmes,

but why do you intend to drain the moat?

I no longer do, Watson.

That was a ruse on my part to force whoever put the bundle

into the moat to retrieve it.

All four of us saw who that was.

Now, Mr. Barker, I seem to be standing in the way

of your explanation.

You've done enough for us now, Cecil.

Ah, Mrs. Douglas.

I now know that neither you nor Mr. Barker committed the murder.

And I strongly recommend that you ask Mr. Douglas

to tell us his own story.

John Douglas?

How in heaven can a man who's been...

♪

I think it's about time that I told you

what this is all about.

I am John Douglas.

♪

May I smoke as I talk?

You have no idea how difficult it is for a smoker

to remain hidden for two days with tobacco in his pocket

and to be afraid to smoke

for fear the smell will give him away.

(laughs)

I'll never forget the way you appeared,

like a jack-in-the-box.

It fairly beats me.

If you were John Douglas, then whose murder

have we been investigating?

And how did you know, Holmes, that he was still alive?

It is common knowledge that houses of this age

always had secret panels.

I did refer you to this excellent book.

When I read that King Charles had been concealed here,

the idea struck me that we would find John Douglas

under his own roof.

And how long have you known this, Mr. Holmes?

Only last night did I form my views

of the case, Mr. Mac.

As they could not be put to the test

until tonight, this morning at breakfast

I invited you and Mr. White Mason

to go for a stroll whilst I fished in the moat.

When I found the suit of clothes,

it became apparent that the body we had found

could not be that of John Douglas,

and must therefore be that of the mysterious cyclist

from Tumbridge Wells.

I had to determine where John Douglas himself could be,

and the balance of probability was that

with the connivance of his wife and friend,

he was concealed in this house,

awaiting quieter times when he could make his final escape.

Well, you've figured it out right.

From the start, I have done nothing to be ashamed of.

I'll let you be the judge of that.

I'll tell you my story.

♪

My story begins 15 years ago in the USA.

I was on a train out of Chicago.

You're a stranger in these parts?

Yes.

The name's John McMurdo.

I'm Mike Scanlan.

You look ready for trouble.

♪

We needed them sometimes in the place I came from.

And where might that be?

Chicago.

Where are you heading?

Vermissa Valley.

I'm looking for a job.

Vermissa Valley is a tough place.

You may find you need your gun there as well as your cargo.

As to a job?

Well, you'll have to talk with Jack McGinty.

He runs everything around here.

If he approves of you, you'll have to join VV 341.

I read in the Chicago papers about VV 341.

A gang of murderers, aren't they?

Man, you won't live long in these parts

if you talk out loud like that.

More than one has had the life beaten out of him for less.

♪

We'll be in Vermissa Valley in two weeks.

♪

♪

I go right past McGinty's place.

I'll point it out to you.

(laughing)

(shouting)

♪

♪

♪

♪

Mr. McGinty?

My name's John McMurdo.

I was advised to come and see you.

Well, you see me.

This is all there is.

What do you think of me?

If your heart is as big as your body

and your soul as fine as your face,

then I'd ask for nothing better.

Come right here, Mr. Murdo.

We don't take people on trust in these parts,

nor do we believe all we're told.

♪

♪

Have you tried playing any games on us?

I'll make short work of you.

What are you doing here?

I just got in from Chicago.

Had to leave.

The police there are looking for me.

Me and my partner were doing a little forging.

I thought he was taking more than his share,

so I killed him and came here.

Of all the places on earth, why did you choose Vermissa Valley?

'Cause I read in the papers that you're not too particular

in these parts.

Well, you could be right at that.

I've got a feeling that a man like you

could be very useful to VV 341.

You see, when we get pushed around, we need men

who will help us push back.

Hard.

♪

Are we all agreed that McMurdo will be invited

to join our group?

♪

Are you ready to be tested?

I am.

Can you bear pain?

♪

As well as any other.

♪

If anyone betrays us, we will kill them.

♪

♪

Now you men get yourself something to drink

and we'll get on with the business of the evening.

A Max Linden company has paid $500 to be left alone.

Walker Brothers sent in $100, but I returned it

with a message that said unless they made it $500,

their winding gear would break down.

Now the third item is that I need two volunteers

to teach Andrew Ray a lesson.

(laughing)

Here, we'll do it!

Right, let us go!

All right, you two can do it.

Have you both got guns?

Good, then the job is yours.

Yes, Morris, we're all used to your complaints.

What is it this time?

Let me read this to you.

It's headed "Law and Order."

(laughing)

Twelve years have now lapsed since the first assassinations

confirmed the existence of a criminal organization

in our midst.

In that time, outrages have never ceased.

Extortion, standover tactics, arson and murder

have become the order of the day.

The police seem to be powerless to act.

Now what do you say to that?

I think Ted Baldwin has got an answer for your question.

Thank you, Boss McGinty.

I suggest that with the approval of this meeting,

I take care of the editor.

I'd like to go with him.

Not this time, McMurdo.

There will be plenty for you to do later.

Ted here has handled a dozen of these jobs alone

and will have no difficulty with this one.

These past months you've been in the valley,

you proved yourself to be reliable and trustworthy.

You know all the members of VV 341 and they all like you.

That's good to know.

If ever I step down I want you to become the boss.

But there's one thing I've got to attend to first.

What's that?

A message has reached me

that a Pinkerton detective named Birdie Edwards

is in town collecting evidence against us.

If I knew what he looked like, I'd get Ted Baldwin

to kill him.

I know what he looks like.

I knew him from Chicago.

You get all the members in the hall tonight,

and I'll bring him in,

and the boys can decide what's to be done with him.

♪

♪

(whistle)

♪

♪

Where's Birdie Edwards?

I thought you were bringing him in with you.

McGinty, I am Birdie Edwards, a Pinkerton detective.

For months now I've been collecting evidence against you

and your murdering gang.

And if you look at the windows, you will see

that you're all being held at gunpoint.

There are 40 police outside.

You're all under arrest.

McMurdo!

(gunshot)

♪

I'll get you for this, McMurdo.

If it takes me 20 years, I'll get even with you for this!

All that happened 15 years ago.

I hid in California.

I met Cecil Barker there.

Then I found gold.

But also learned that Ted Baldwin

was asking for me around the workings.

And so I decided to pull up stakes and come to England.

I took the name of John Douglas, married my wife here,

and came to live at Birlstone House.

But Ted Baldwin chased you to England,

and to Tumbridge Wells, where you saw him.

This put the fear of God into you,

so much so that you cut yourself shaving.

Then, later, you were uneasy until Ames had raised

the drawbridge.

That evening, your worst nightmares came true.

You saw Ted Baldwin's boot showing beneath the curtain

in your study.

You're right.

♪

♪

♪

If it takes me 20 years,

I'll get even with you for this.

♪

I grabbed one of the dumbbells.

♪

He fell down, dead.

To your surprise, the servants hadn't heard the shot.

Only your wife and Mr. Barker knew what had happened,

and they were quite willing to help you set up the scene

as described to us.

While he was lying there, I remembered the similarities

Baldwin and I had.

We were the same age, the same build, the same coloring.

We even carried the same brand.

The thought struck me: why not put the VV 341 assassins

off my track by pretending I had been murdered.

My wife and I could then pack up and go live our lives

without fear.

We were aware that Mrs. Douglas and Barker

had combined to deceive us.

When the body had no wedding ring,

I began to suspect the truth.

We must leave you to Inspector MacDonald.

I'm sure you will find

our English system of law quite just.

Come, Watson.

I say, Holmes, it was clever of you

to deduce that it was not Douglas's body

we saw under the sheet the day we arrived.

On the contrary, Watson.

It was elementary.

A man who cuts his chin shaving doesn't heal in one day.

When I first inspected the body I lifted the sticking plaster.

There was no cut, so I knew at once the body

was not that of John Douglas.

It really was quite elementary, my dear Watson.

Quite elementary.

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪