All language subtitles for T.R.o.S.H.S01E02.The.Missing.Witness.Sensation.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

In late Victorian London
lived many detectives

who were the rivals
of Sherlock Holmes.

It's all right, Parkinson.

I'll pour the coffee.

Thank you, sir.

Will that be all, sir?

Yes, thank you.

- Good night, sir.
- Good night, Parkinson.

- Good night, Inspector.
- Good night, Parkinson.

It's a funny thing, sir.

Nothing seems to go on anywhere
now,

but you'll find some trace of it
in London

if you bother to look.

In the right quarter.

Why, yes.

Black or cream?

Cream, please.

But 9 times out of 10,

there's no reason
why anybody should be looking

in the right place
at the right moment.

And the result is?

What you call
a first-class crime.

Don't get up.
I'll bring it.

- Here, sir.
- I know where you are.

A first-class crime.

The State Antonio 5% Bonds.

Exactly, sir.

The West Hampstead
Lost Memory puzzle

and the Baripur bomb conspiracy.

Well, Mr. Carrados, you got
that lot, didn't you, eh?

You got that lot, Inspector,
safely behind bars.

I only got them
because you got them.

Brandy -- to celebrate
one of our many successes.

After all that wine?

After all that dinner,
you need a digestive.

Tell me, Inspector Beedel,

is the law making any mistakes

in the case of the Ayr Street
Post Office raid?

So that's why you invited me
to dinner, sir.

Yes.

Well, I fancy the defense
has got something up its sleeve.

I don't know what.

But poor Lizzie Baxter

has hardly got a chance
of pulling through.

And if she dies,

the charge will no longer be
robbery with violence

but willful murder.

Yes.

So, a special effort will be
made to get an acquittal

before the graver charge
comes in.

Yes.

The magistrates' court
proceedings are...tomorrow?

That's right, sir.

I shall come and take a look.

That is,
I shall come and listen.

You see more with no eyesight
than most people with it.

Inspector, tell me,

do you think
this post office raid

could turn out to be
a first-class crime?

I'm trying to persuade
my superiors at the Yard

it has all the makings.

Call Philip Thaxted.

Philip Thaxted!

Put the book in your right hand.
Repeat after me.

I swear by Almighty God...

I swear by Almighty God...

...the evidence I shall give...

...the evidence I shall give...

...shall be the truth,
the whole truth,

and nothing but the truth.

- Morning, Mr. Carrados.
- Morning, Huntley.

Post office raid?

I trust.
Defense just opened.

- Would you like a seat, sir?
- I may.

Who are conducting?

Mr. Booker
for the public prosecutor.

I don't know the defense man.
Not one of our regulars.

- You are Philip Thaxted?
- Yes.

- That's the defense man?
- Yes, sir.

Formerly a lace merchant on your
own account, but now retired.

Yes.

Mr. Thaxted,
would you tell the court

where you were on the afternoon
of Wednesday the 17th, inst.

I was taking a walk
in Richmond Park.

Would you speak up, Mr. Thaxted?

The court may not
be able to hear you.

On the afternoon you mention,

I was taking a walk
in Richmond Park.

Yes, sir?

Can you be precise
about the time of this walk?

I was in the park
from 20 minutes to 4:00

until 10 minutes to 5:00.

I should like a seat.

Right, sir.

Mr. Dalby,
I fail to see where --

The evidence of this witness

will prove that the accused,
Dennis Rank,

is innocent of robbery
with violence,

that on the day and time
in question

he could not have been
in Ayr Street Post Office

since he was in Richmond Park.

Ah, I see.

Mr. Thaxted, do you recognize
the accused, Dennis Rank?

I do.

Will you be so good

as to look at the accused,
Dennis Rank,

and tell the court whether
you have seen him before

and, if so, where and when?

Mr. Thaxted?

I saw the accused once before,

between half past 4:00
and a quarter to 5:00,

on the afternoon of Wednesday,
the 17th of this month,

in Richmond Park.

Inspector Beedel, sir.

Inspector! You must think me
rather unreasonable

to drag you out here.

Not at all, sir.

- Good evening, Mr. Greatorex.
- Good evening, Inspector.

And I'm just sure it's to hear
something to my advantage.

- A drink?
- Well...

Too late for tea,
too early for dinner.

Something long and cool,
if I may.

This is the hottest summer
I've ever known.

Parkinson, something
long and cool for all of us.

Yes, sir,
something long and cool.

I heard you were in court.

Yes.

That was a bit of a facer --
Mr. Thaxted.

But the magistrate committed
Dennis Rank for trial.

Aw, magistrates are wary birds.

They don't like to take
any chances.

Now, we've got a case.

A purely circumstantial one,
but it's a good case.

Except for the evidence
of Mr. Thaxted.

That's it.

If that chap sticks to his tale
at the Old Bailey,

I don't think any jury
will convict.

Who is Mr. Thaxted?

Well, we got on to that
straightaway, sir.

I'm sure you did.

Merchant in a good way
of business,

creditable public record
extending over 20 years,

and that's the trouble.

He's not the sort
that'll bob up,

prepared to swear anything for
half a quid and a pot of beer.

He's a first-class witness.

For a first-class alibi.

A very convincing story.

I didn't bring the transcript
with me.

I dictated it to Greatorex
when I got back.

Greatorex, would you...

Mr. Thaxted was walking
in Richmond Park.

Half past 4:00,

a little dog coming
out of a clump of bracken

barked at him furiously.

He swished at it with his stick.

Then it seized one of his
trouser legs and tore it.

The dog's master
appeared on the scene,

and they fell to abusing
one another,

the owner accusing him
of striking the dog,

he accusing the man
of keeping a vicious animal.

In the end, Thaxted demanded
the fellow's name and address

and wrote it in the notebook,

together with the date and the
exact time of the occurrence.

Providential, don't you think?

What else would make you write
down the name and address

of a complete stranger?

And Dennis Rank does have
a small terrier

that might have behaved
like that.

And doubtless Mr. Thaxted
has a pair of trousers

that have been suitably torn.

No doubt.

What's behind this business,
Beedel?

The Ayr Street Post Office raid
was no ordinary outrage.

You know that as well as I do.

What do you mean, sir?

I am suggesting
that you investigate

whether Mr. Thaxted's family
history has any Irish in it.

Well, now, sir,

you are following exactly
my own train of thought.

Ah, Parkinson, with the drinks.

Don't look surprised.

I heard the ice
on the sides of the glasses.

Something long and cool, sir.

Ahh.

The Irish Republican
Brotherhood --

"The Cause," they call it.

Yes, sir.

And you'd be surprised at
the people who are in with them.

The retired lace merchant
from Kingston?

All sorts.

Professional men, soldiers,
civil servants,

society ladies, dock laborers.

Some of them no more Irish
than you or me.

What were they after
at Ayr Street Post Office?

Well, at the moment --

Inspector, I do have a list

of the public offices
and government departments

that send their mail
through Ayr Street,

including registered mail.

I don't know
if it was to secure something

or to stop something going.

But in any case,
Lizzie Baxter was not shot

because she was holding on
to the money

but because she stood
between Rank and the letters.

She hasn't spoken yet?

And she probably never will.

Now,
she might have identified Rank.

Without her and with
Mr. Thaxted's evidence,

Rank will leave that court
a free man.

Oh, I don't think so.

Huh? Why?

Parkinson, Greatorex,

where was I
between 4:00 and 10 to 5:00

on the afternoon of Wednesday,
the 17th of this month.

You were -- Parkinson?

You were taking a walk
in Richmond Park.

What?

My habitual walk
of a fine afternoon,

and the afternoon
was almost excessively fine.

I know every inch of those paths
so well

I can indulge my --
I hope innocent --

vanity of playing
at not being blind.

And whom did I meet
and talk with there

from a quarter past 4:00
until a quarter to 5:00?

One, two, three.

- Mr. Thaxted.
- Mr. Thaxted.

I don't believe it.

For once I was
in exactly the right place

at precisely the right moment!

There is a bench overlooking
a deep expanse of country,

which I use so often

the prospect is now known
as Blind Man's View.

At a quarter past 4:00 --

and you know I can tell the time
as well as you can --

a stranger came and sat by me.

Whew.

Glorious day.

Ah. Rather too hot to me,
I'm afraid.

If the summer goes on like this,
I shall escape to Iceland.

I am not quite English.
I worship the sun.

Do you mind if I pollute
the atmosphere?

Not at all.

- Would you care to?
- Thank you, no.

Splendid view from here.

It is my favorite.

What's that place over there?

Do you happen to know?

Forgive me.
Which way are you pointing?

Over there.

If you give me a compass
bearing, I can tell you.

Otherwise, I'm afraid not.

I beg your pardon.

It is an admission
I do not care to make.

Sometimes it is necessary.

I am blind.

We discussed carnation growing
and other impersonal topics.

We walked together
as far as the gate

and parted
at 10 minutes to 5:00.

- Thank you, Parkinson.
- Thank you, sir.

And you swear it was him?

I do not mistakes voices.

He took a fairish risk
with his perjury.

He met a blind stranger.

It must have seemed
perfectly safe.

You're willing to give evidence,
sir?

It will repay a trifle
of my debt to you.

That's a pretty
good weight already.

Ah, now, when they ask, "Do you
see this man in court --"

They must ask,
"Do you hear this man?"

The jury may not think
that satisfactory.

If I say the man
I sat and walked with

is an ardent carnation grower,
smokes Algerian cigars,

bites his fingernails, has
varicose veins in his left leg,

and wears an elastic stocking?

Fingernails?

We shook hands when we parted.

- And the varicose veins?
- A guess.

I could hear a slight limp
and the stocking.

That might do the trick.

- Greatorex.
- Sir.

Oh. I am booked for
the Old Bailey from Tuesday,

fortnight onwards.

- I'll put it in the diary.
- Thank you.

One thing. Did Thaxted
recognize you in court?

He may or may not have.
Why?

One of our witnesses
has been run down while cycling.

And I've had a natty-looking
box of chocolates by post

from an unknown admirer.

They'll stick at nothing
to get Rank off.

Then I must...take precautions.

Take the Bible
in your right hand.

I swear by Almighty God that
that is my name and handwriting

and that that, the contents
of my affidavit, is true.

Sworn at Richmond,
in the county of Surrey.

Yes, that's all correct,
Mr. Carrados.

Thank you, Mr. Marley.

Parkinson will show you
to your cab.

- Parkinson?
- Yes, sir.

- Good day to you, Mr. Carrados.
- Good day.

- This way, sir.
- Thank you.

And now,
with a clear conscience,

- I can go for my walk.
- Ready when you are.

Greatorex, I'm tired of having
you dogging my footsteps.

- A precaution.
- It destroys all my pleasure.

I'll keep out of earshot,

if it's possible to do that
with you.

Do better than that.
Give me five minutes' start.

Well, then I shan't feel
that you're following me.

Respectfully, no, sir.

Five minutes?

I insist.

I order you, as your employer.

I only hope you'll --

I only hope you'll continue
to be my employer.

Well,
he didn't forbid me to run.

That's right, governor.
A tall toff in a gray suit.

What is it, Parkinson?

Message from Mr. Carrados, sir.

What?

He took the first cab
in the rank, sir.

He throws me half a dollar
and says,

"Drive to the turrets

and tell them I've got to see
Inspector Beedel."

- Something like that?
- Beedel, yes.

Then he hollers, "Scotland Yard,
fast as you can!"

And off he goes.

- Thank you, cabby.
- Ooh, thank you, gov.

I knew as soon as he was
out of my sight

he'd be up to something.

Two people coming this way.

A man and a woman.

The woman has a stick.

She is blind?

This will do.
Sit down here.

Now, you don't mind, Arabella?

No, no,
but please don't be long.

I promise I won't.

It's just that
I'm so helpless by myself.

10 minutes at the utmost.

- All right, then.
- I'll run.

I'll take your stick.
It'll help me ferret about.

Oh, please, as quick as you can.

And there's a gentleman here.

I'm sure he'll look after you.

Sir, could I possibly ask you --

I shall be delighted.

There. I'm off.
Back in a twinkling.

He was sitting on the grass.

His pocketbook
must have fallen out.

I'm sure he'll find it.

And I can't help him look for it
because, as you see, I'm blind.

Max Carrados,

you're as fond of showing off
as a child with a recitation.

I'm truly sorry that you cannot
enjoy this magnificent view.

Yes.

Would you like me
to describe it to you?

Please.

Inspector.

Morning, old Parkinson.
Mr. Carrados in?

But he's gone to Scotland Yard
to see you, sir.

He's what?
How long ago?

Not long.

Damnation.

Yes, sir.

Is it 10 minutes yet?
Oh, it must be more.

About 17, I'm afraid.

Charles Stringer
is a dear fellow

but absolutely impossible.

I'm sure he can't find
his pocketbook,

and so he's gone to
the park keepers or the police.

I shall be charmed
to stay here with you.

Would you see me to Heriot Lane?

As you wish.

Charles is impossible.
He could be any length of time.

But I have my carriage
waiting there.

Do you know Heriot Lane?

Indeed, I do.

Vanity, Carrados.

But I do know the way well.

May I offer you my arm?

I see. Right.

Well?

Mr. Carrados would have arrived
at the Yard by now.

He has not arrived.

Can you see a carriage?

No, I'm afraid I can't.

Ah, yes, it's over there.

Thank you so much.

It's a pleasure.

Good afternoon, Mr. Carrados.

Mnh!

Ah. So, you're coming around
now, aren't you,

and feeling just a trifle sick
at first, I've no doubt.

Where am I?

Now, there's a question

you shouldn't trouble yourself
about, Mr. Carrados.

You're with us.
That's all that matters.

Where?

You'll understand
there may be strategic reasons

against letting on which end
of Park Lane this mansion is

and whether your host
is a retired aristocrat

or a rabid revolutionary.

The Irish Republican
Brotherhood.

I was right.

Faith, Mr. Carrados.

You're in as bad a situation
as if you'd been wrong.

What do you imagine
you're going to do with me?

You're here because
you intended giving evidence

in a case that was no concern
of yours.

And you'll stay here

till that little matter
is satisfactorily disposed of.

I hope and believe
that justice will be done,

that Dennis Rank
will be found guilty.

I'd advise you to keep
that sort of remark

in your britches pocket
while you're here, Mr. Carrados.

This once your blind eyes
protect you.

They often have.

They often will.

Don't be too sure of that,
Mr. Carrados.

I've checked with
all the cabbies on that rank.

No one picked him up.

And the driver who came here?

He must have been waiting
down the road

until he saw Mr. Carrados go by.

I'm a raving idiot
not to have insisted.

They got to know his times,
his regular walks.

He was kidnapped in the park.
That's for certain.

Where do you think he is now,
sir?

I don't know.

What makes it worse, Lizzie
Baxter died this afternoon.

The charge will be
willful murder,

but with her dead
and him missing,

I doubt if I'll get
a conviction.

But if I do,

I'm not sure I give much
for Mr. Carrados' chances.

Extra! Extra!

Missing witness sensation!
Read all about it!

Max Carrados missing!

Extra! Extra!

Read all about it!
Max Carrados missing!

Missing witness sensation!

Half past eight.

I like to keep count
of the days and hours.

Don't you care for conversation?

Or is it that I might recognize
your voice?

I suppose it doesn't matter
if you do.

Ah, Mr. Stringer.

- An alias, I presume.
- Yes.

But an Englishman.

English Catholic,
brought up in Ireland.

Ah.

Both of you?

- What?
- There is a marked similarity.

I take it the young lady
is your sister.

She sounded...charming.

If I may say so,
very good-looking.

Well, she is.

Grub up!

Mr. -- Um, I'm afraid
I don't know your name.

Let's call it Murphy, for fun.

Mr. Murphy, do you think
I could have newspapers?

What good would a newspaper
be to you?

Well, the trial of Dennis Rank
begins tomorrow.

There will be
no newspapers here.

I have money.

And you can buy them around
the corner, in the Jamaica Road.

God in heaven.

What did I want to do
a thing like that for?

I'll get a dustpan and a mop.

Shall we dine?

I must ask you to guide me
around the broken glass.

It's not in your way.

Ah.

Aren't you joining me tonight?

I'm afraid you're wrong
about Jamaica Road.

- Am I?
- Quite wrong.

The glorious sun shines in, even
through these grimy windows.

Well,
what's that got to do with it?

I can tell the points
of the compass,

and I can hear Big Ben
at a great distance,

I'd say -- forgive me,

I have had practice
in these things --

about three miles.

Look at a map, Mr. Stringer.

Three miles due east of Big Ben

is Bermondsey,
towards Rotherhithe.

Shall I go on?

I tell you, you're wrong.

I can sometimes hear ships'
sirens not too far to the north,

closer the traffic
of the main road,

very close to the east
during the day,

birds singing
and children playing.

It must be Southwark Park,
just south of the Jamaica Road.

Do sit down.
Your food will get cold.

He does know.

Well, how will that help him?

Mr. Carrados,
you're a terrible showoff.

Mm-hmm.

M'Lud, may I at this point
respectfully request

that this trial
should be adjourned

and put back to a day
to be appointed?

On what grounds, Mr. Booker?

On the ground, M'Lud,
that a witness for the Crown

of the greatest importance
has disappeared,

has, in all likelihood,
been kidnapped,

and I use that word advisedly.

M'Lud, on behalf of my client,
I oppose the request.

Reading the Good Book,
Mr. Springer?

Well, now, isn't that nice?

The judge is on our side.

The trial is going ahead?

Even in the absence

of the Crown's witness
of the greatest importance.

I should be grateful to hear
what it says in your newspaper.

I couldn't do that,
Mr. Carrados.

There's a whole column here

recounting your achievements
as a detective.

A sad comedown for you,
Mr. Carrados.

Perhaps you will think
differently tomorrow.

Mr. Thaxted,

I must ask you to be
very careful

in the answers you give
to my questions.

You will be, won't you?

Certainly.

Mr. Thaxted, would it be correct
to describe you

as an ardent grower
of carnations?

Yes, it would.

Mr. Thaxted, I believe
you carry a cigar case.

Yes, I do.

Would you be so good
as to show it to the court?

Does it contain cigars
at this moment, Mr. Thaxted?

Yes.

Are they Algerian cigars?

Yes.

M'Lud, as --
as Mr. Thaxted admits --

freely admits that the cigars
are Algerian,

I hardly think
it's necessary to --

No, no. You may put it away,
Mr. Thaxted.

Mr. Booker,
I myself freely admit

that I'm failing to follow
your line of questioning.

If you would have
a moment's patience, M'Lud.

Mr. Thaxted, is it true
that you bite your fingernails?

Yes.

Down to the quick
on most fingers?

- Yes.
- Mr. Booker --

A moment more, M'Lud,
and I have done.

Mr. Thaxted, do you suffer from
varicose veins in your left leg?

Yes.

And do you wear
an elastic stocking on that leg?

Yes.

Would you kindly pull up
your trouser leg?

I hardly think
that is necessary.

As you wish, M'Lud.

Thank you, Mr. Thaxted.

That is all.

Mr. Dalby, does
the defense wish to re-examine?

No, M'Lud.

Thank you, Mr. Thaxted.

Mr. Booker, I confess
I am still somewhat adrift.

The explanation is simple,
M'Lud.

I hope so.

I have established certain facts
with regard to Mr. Thaxted.

These facts are highly relevant

to my endeavor to prove

that Mr. Thaxted
is a perjured witness...

M'Lud!

...in that he was not with
Dennis Rank at that place,

at that time, on that day,

and could not possibly have been

since at that place,
at that time, on that day,

he was with a certain
Mr. Max Carrados,

who gleaned from him the facts
that I have now established.

- M'Lud, I object.
- Oh, sit down, Mr. Dalby.

What counsel is saying
is not evidence.

Mr. Booker, are you producing
Mr. Carrados as a witness?

I had intended to call him,
M'Lud,

in rebuttal
of Mr. Thaxted's evidence.

Unfortunately, the entire
police force of Great Britain

is unable to locate
Mr. Carrados.

I can, however -- and shall,
with your permission --

produce witnesses who will prove
to the court's satisfaction

that Mr. Carrados
has been kidnapped,

if not, indeed, killed,

and the only possible motive
for this criminal act

was the desire
to suppress his evidence.

I shall therefore, M'Lud,

ask you to accept as evidence
an affidavit

signed, sworn by Mr. Carrados

immediately prior
to his kidnapping.

M'Lud, I object.

A affidavit
is secondary evidence,

not admissible
in a criminal trial.

That is so, Mr. Booker.

M'Lud,
I accept that an affidavit

is not primary or best evidence.

However,
if I may quote precedent?

I am aware of the precedents.

I shall have to consider
the matter.

Meanwhile, you may proceed
with your other witnesses.

Thank you, M'Lud.
Call Mr. Greatorex.

Stand up for the captain!

Damn you, Carrados!

You might have guessed
that I would take precautions.

So, the judge has accepted
my affidavit.

He's considering the matter
overnight.

I'm sure he'll come
to the right conclusion.

I advise you to pray
that he does not.

Remarkably quiet this morning.

Usually there are seven men
moving about below

or clumping up and down
the stairs.

Did you know
that each man's footstep

is individual and unmistakable?

Are you determined
not to have conversation?

I'm not going to let you escape.

Which means the thought
has crossed your mind.

Yes, but I'm not going to.
I can't.

I won't insult you
by offering you gold,

unless you would care
to be insulted.

No.

Then my only chance
is your conscience.

You believe that Ireland
should be freed

from the yoke
of the English tyrant.

Oddly enough,
I entirely agree with you.

What?

The thing I do not agree with
is shooting Lizzie Baxter.

And neither do you.

Where you
on the post office raid?

No.

A pity, in a way.

It would have been an education.

You'd have seen
Lizzie Baxter go down

with a bullet in her breast.

If it was just me,
I'd let you go.

Isn't it just you
alone in the house?

They'd call me traitor, come
after me, kill me, I suppose.

I don't mind that.

Don't you?

You are indeed a romantic.

It's just that I --

I'm frightened

that the punishment
might include my sister.

The girl
with the charming voice?

My dear fellow, say no more.
Don't give it another thought.

I will not even try to escape,
so long as you are with me.

Thank you, Inspector.
I'm sure you will.

I know you understand.
Of course.

One of us will be by
the telephone night and day.

Goodbye.

Rank has been condemned
to death.

And Mr. Carrados?

Still not a trace, nothing.

The captain!

Right.
Let the prisoner go.

And sit down.

Shall I give him a chair?

Was Dennis Rank
given a chair once

during the three days
of his trial?

- He was not!
- No.

Then let the prisoner stand.

A prisoner is usually charged
with an offense.

May I ask what mine is?

Conveying information
to the enemy.

The law is the enemy of no one
but a criminal.

The English law
and the English police

are the enemies of all those
who fight for freedom.

Oh, is it a war, then?

It is.

You're a casualty of war,
Mr. Carrados.

Consider yourself as such.

It may make you feel better.

Be quiet!

Sorry, Captain.

Carrados,
it concerns you to know

that this afternoon Dennis Rank

was found guilty
and sentenced to death.

That was the natural result of
your kidnapping me, wasn't it?

It was the natural result
of your damned affidavit!

Not at all.

The affidavit itself
was of no great importance.

What was important
was the evidence given

proving that
I had been kidnapped.

You simply advertised
that my evidence was true

and that you daren't let it be
given at any price.

Now, now, Captain,
what did I tell you?

- I did tell you --
- Will you both shut up?!

If you had allowed me to go
into the witness box,

it would have been perfectly
simple for your counsel

to suggest that I was
either mistaken or a liar.

One man's word
against another's.

How can you believe the blind
man against the man with sight?

You did the wrong thing,
Captain.

You're not here to express
your personal views,

but to listen to the decision
of this court.

Very well.

An appeal has been lodged
against Dennis Rank's sentence.

Now, if there is anything that
you can do to help that appeal,

I should start to think
about it now.

I dislike any attempt
to coerce me.

Do you, now?

A personal view,
but I hold to it.

And do you dislike any attempt
to save your own life?

Under coercion, yes.

Don't think you can ride
your high horse here,

with your damned personal view

and your infernal
five-cent style.

Just call it to mind

that you are not dealing
with your own shilly-shallying,

Dublin Castle trash!

You're dealing with men
who mean what they say.

You are also dealing with a man
who means what he says.

Write a letter to your comrade
Inspector Beedel.

Write a letter
to the Home Secretary.

He's a dinner guest of yours
now, isn't he, huh?

I would say
that was a fair bargain.

They release Dennis Rank,
and we release you.

It is not a fair bargain.
I have committed no crime.

That is for this court
to decide.

Gentlemen, do you find the
prisoner guilty or not guilty?

- Guilty!
- Guilty!

And did I hear you utter, now?

You can't kill a blind man!

And why not?!

He's got less to lose.

Is it the wish of this court

that I should now pronounce
sentence?

- Yes!
- Yes!

Max Carrados,
the sentence of this court

is that you have seven days left

in which to save another
man's life and your own.

You can live
if Dennis Rank goes free.

But I tell you this --

the hour
that the black flag goes up

upon Brixton jail
for Dennis Rank,

your family will have cause
to go into mourning, too.

I'm afraid your eloquence
is wasted on me.

I have no family.

Seven days, Mr. Carrados.

Your new home, Mr. Carrados.

Be it ever so humble,

it's better than
many an Irishman has.

Hold on a minute.

I'll bring you the blessings
of gaslight.

Now, Mr. Carrados,
with your kind permission,

I'll have the contents
of your pockets.

One pocketbook.

Now, do you want me to count
what money's in this?

- I know what's in it.
- I know you do.

Your fingers can tell a fiver
from a tenner at a glance.

One bunch of keys, variegated...

one watch...

one watch and chain,
Mr. Carrados.

I can do no harm with a watch.

One silver hunter.

And what would you want to know
the time for?

It's always night in here.

Anything else?

One handkerchief.

Well, as a special concession,
you can keep the handkerchief.

Thank you.

Your belongings
will be restored intact

in the event
of your being released...

which is in your own power,
Mr. Carrados.

Now, would you like pen and ink?

No, thank you.

Mr. Carrados, you'll understand
it's a matter entirely awaiting

your own personal convenience

whether
your ultimate destination

is to be the recuperation camp
or the wayside cemetery.

I have an idea

that my ultimate destination
will be the witness box.

God, you're a whimsical fellow,
Mr. Carrados.

It is 10:00 in the morning...

on day one.

Dinner.

1:00 in the afternoon, day two.

I apologize
for the lack of a table.

Is the weather as fine as ever?

The water companies
are going out of their minds.

I guess it's lucky
I'm not a water drinker.

And you're lucky down here,
Mr. Carrados.

In fact, you're the coolest man
in London.

I should prefer to be
in the sun.

Oh, count your blessings,
Mr. Carrados.

Now, do you want pen and ink?

No, thank you.

Dinner.

1:00, day three.

And a fine, broiling day again.

The hottest summer since Queen
Victoria mounted to the throne.

Put the tray on the chair,
will you?

Do you want pen and ink,
Mr. Carrados?

No, thank you.

Well, can you smell
your dinner, Mr. Carrados?

Mmm.

Roast pork, potatoes.

Peas.

Do you want pen and ink?

No!

You're as stubborn as a mule!

1:00, day five.

There's a visitor for you,
Mr. Carrados.

The girl
with the charming voice.

Arabella.

I'm sorry I don't know
your other name.

I do understand

you would prefer me
not to know your other name.

- Mr. Carrado--
- May I offer you a chair?

Mr. Carrados,
please do what they want.

Would it serve you in any way?

If you don't do what they want,
they'll kill you.

Yes, I think that is
their intention.

And I shall blame myself for it
for the rest of my life.

That is the only good argument
I've yet heard.

Please.

Would you mind presenting
that argument to the captain?

What do you mean?

Does he care
what you blame yourself for?

No.

Then he must not try to take
advantage of me...

because I care.

You were only captured
because you were nice to me.

If you die, it will be my fault.

Oh, but, you see,
I don't propose to die.

You'll write the letter?

Oh, no, I don't propose
to write the letter,

and I don't propose to die.

But you can't escape from here.

No.

- I don't suppose I can.
- But then how --

Arabella, it was my fault
that I was kidnapped, not yours,

because I was vain.

I am vain.

I'm vain enough to believe
in my own survival,

even though I haven't
the ghost of an idea

how I shall manage to survive.

Please, for my sake,
write the letter for --

May I ask you one question,

to which you must reply
in deadly earnest?

Yes?

Did you come here
entirely of your own accord?

Or did they tell you to come?

They told me to come.

Thank you.

Arabella, you are honest,
but they are...cheats.

I will not do what they say,
not for anyone.

Not even for you.

The Home Secretary
has received a message,

pushed through his door
at midnight.

They want to exchange
Mr. Carrados for Dennis Rank.

Anonymous?

No name, no address.

Then where can he reply to?

The reply must appear in
the agony column of the Times.

And does the Home Secretary
agree?

He's not prepared to agree

until and unless
he receives a letter

supporting the request
from Mr. Carrados.

Well, at least we know
that he's alive and well.

Alive, I suppose.

Well, I hope.

Something long and cool, sir?

Something long and cool, sir?

I'm afraid it's only ink.

Would you like
your dinner, Mr. Carrados?

There's a lovely
bowl of soup to start.

I'm afraid it's only ink.

I'm afraid it's only ink.

I'm afraid it's only ink.

I'm afraid it's only ink.

I'm afraid it's only ink.

Night?

No.

Early morning, I think...

on day six.

I am a blithering idiot!

Water!

Special early edition!
Special early edition!

Max Carrados --
Home Secretary speaks!

Home Secretary speaks!

Bravo!

A water pipe.

One way,
it leads up to the cistern,

the other way up to the mains.

Hottest summer since Victoria
came to the throne,

and the water companies
are going out of their minds.

Nothing wrong there.

You have a listen this time.
You need to practice.

How can I listen
when my stomach's rumbling?

You'll get your breakfast

as soon as we've done
to the corner.

Have to finish soon.
Traffic will be starting up.

Can't hear nothing.

The Southwark
and Vauxhall Water Company

is losing thousands of gallons
a day.

Give it a proper go.

Yeah.

There is a leak.

A leak, eh?

Yeah, that's funny.

Leaks are not funny

to the Southwark
and Vauxhall Water Company!

No.

It's like someone tapping
on a pipe.

Yes.

Yes, that's tapping, all right,
definitely tapping.

Well, what's doing it?

It could be something loose
knocking against the pipe.

Could be a raving lunatic.

Can't sleep,
nothing better to do

than lie there
with a stick in his hand.

We ain't supposed to go around
checking on tappings.

Coming from the immediate
neighborhood of the leak,

I'd say.

Look, I know we've got to report
the leak, but after breakfast.

You and your breakfast!

Well, there's nothing that says
we got to report tapping.

- Shh! Do you hear that?
- Well, of course I didn't.

"Duh duh duh, da da da,
duh duh duh."

If such a thing was credible,

I'd say someone was talking
Morse along that pipe.

Morse?

Get some education, lad.
Get some education.

What for?

12 years with the Colours,

out in India
with the Dirty Half-Hundred,

the gallant West Kent boys --
Signals Platoon!

I know you was in India.
What's that got to do with this?

If you'd have been in India,

you'd have met queerer things
than this --

bed of nails, rope trick!

"Duh duh duh, da da da,
duh duh duh."

Yeah.
Well?!

"S.O.S."

S.O.S.?

Spanner.

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

W...

H...

O...

CARRADOS:
A...

R...

E...

Y...

O...

U.

"Who are you?"

MAN:
...D...

O...

S.

Got that down?

Max Carrad-os.

What's that mean?

You got that newspaper on you?

Well, if he's not
willing now, he never will be.

Given that he's in a state

to have any volition at all.

You're a hard man, Captain.

Holy Mother of God,
what's gone on here?

Hey,
what do you think you're up to?

Good morning, gentlemen.

I hope I find you well.

Upstairs with him.

Grab for the edges, Sergeant!

All right, they're down here!

What is this, Captain?

Are you all right, Mr. Carrados?

First-class, Inspector.

One warm dressing gown, sir.

Ah.

Something long and cool, sir?

Something hot and fiery,
Parkinson.

Yes, sir.

Right. Good.

Yes. Thank you.

Well?!

They've got the other one.
So, that's the lot.

- Splendid!
- Splendid!

Making seven.

You did say
there were seven of them.

- Seven...men.
- That's right.

Why?
Was there anyone else?

It's just
that I want to put in a plea

for the one called Stringer.

He did his small best
to save my life.

Something hot and fiery, sir.

Thank you, Parkinson.

Sir.

Clever chap -- Stringer.

He lured me to my doom
in Richmond Park...

...all by himself.