All language subtitles for T.R.o.S.H.S02E05.The.Absent-Minded.Coterie.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

In late
Victorian times

there lived many detectives,

The Rivals of
Sherlock Holmes.

Now, let us recapitulate,
Lord Semptam.

The figurine was of great value.

- Priceless.
- After you examined it,

you placed it on the table.

Um. Ah, here.

There was no one else
in the house.

Now, let me see. Oh, dear,
the, oh, the servants?

Have all been satisfactorily
accounted for.

The outside doors were bolted.

- The doors, Colonel.
- Eh?

Oh, yes, Monsieur Valmont.

Now, where's my pipe-

It was priceless, yet you
placed it on the table

and simply went to bed?

- My dear Valmont-
- Hopeless, hopeless fellow.

Well, I left it somewhere.

- And it has vanished.
- Utterly.

No, the figurine, Colonel.

Eh? Oh, yes, yes, utterly.

Searched the house. Bought
that pipe in Calcutta.

Now, let me see.

Let me see.

Our dear friend placed the
figurine on the table here.

Perhaps a question
occurred to him.

Shall we say the
ceramic composition

of early Cretan figurines?

Oui,he goes to the
appropriate bookshelf,

perhaps here, and selects
an appropriate volume.

Ah, here we are. Oh.

Lord Semptam.

Hmm?

Ooh! Bless my soul.

- Oh, look.
- You see, you did not put it

on the table, you put
it on the bookshelf,

and when you replaced the book,

you simply pushed
it to the back, huh?

You know, I really
cannot remember.

Well, never mind,
Semptam.

It did take France's
greatest detective to-

No, no, Colonel, not detective.

Shall we say her greatest
amateur of detection, huh?

Ah, well, I wish you
would find my pipe,

- eh, Semptam?
- Find your pipe.

- I still think it's somewhere.
- Yes, Semptam, yes.

Voila!

Well, I don't know
how to thank you.

No, no, no, no, no.

Your excellent dinner
was thanks enough.

- No, Semptam.
- Huh?

- Oh!
- Sir?

Yes?

Ah, those are for Valmont.

It's for me? Oh, merci,
merci,excuse me.

Paper! Paper!

Oh, I regret I must leave you.

Ah. Something urgent?

- Oui.
- Urgent? Urgent?

Oh, please forgive
me, gentlemen.

Marsh will look after you.

Not you, Semptam. It's
Monsieur Valmont who's wanted.

A telephone message, Inspector
Hale of Scotland Yard-

- Paper! Paper!
- is waiting for me.

- Newspaper!
- No, no, Marsh, thank you.

- In this fog? Oh!
- Paper!

- Paper!
- It is quicker to walk, eh?

- Good night.
- Good night, sir.

- Paper! Paper!
- Oh, boy?

New
American president.

Read all about it, governor.

Oui,there we are. Merci.

Paper! Paper!

Read all about it! Paper, paper!

Madame.

Oh, pardon, mademoiselle.

Permit me.

Thank you.

It seems we have a
common acquaintance,

Lord Semptam, eh, eh?

Oh, well.

Oh!

Oh, my dear Hale,
you are a brave man

to venture out in this fog.

Can't raise a fog like this

in Paris, Monsieur Valmont.

No, in that, at least,
you are supreme.

Phelps, some drinks.

I have yours ready, sir.

Oh, do sit down.

Well, it is surely
an important thing

that brings you here, huh?

The fog must be very thick
in Scotland Yard, huh?

You're a very clever
man, Monsieur Valmont.

No, no, no, please.

If I permitted compliments,

it would take up
too much time, hmm?

You need my poor brain.

Been reading the news, Valmont?

Have you braved
the fog to discuss

with me the fact
that Major McKinley

has been elected President
of the United States, huh?

That is why I'm here. Well?

Well, you want my help,
and you give me a riddle.

Anyone else, I'd
be more explicit,

but seeing that you
are Eugene Valmont,

I wonder if I need
add anything to this.

Oh.

Have they eluded you?

Who?

The
coiners.

That was just a lucky shot.

It was, now. Own up.

How can I contradict a guest?

Oh? Five shilling pieces?

Ah. Very good.

Excellent. We have
a craftsman here.

A real artist, I'd say.

Now, come on, Valmont.
How did you know?

Major McKinley was elected
President of the United States

because of the terrible
slump on Wall Street, huh?

Which was caused by the heavy
fall in the price of silver.

Was not that the
clue you gave me?

I sent a mind reader
to jail last week.

You know,

these are not forgeries
of base metal.

They are real silver.

Right, so you can't detect
them even by the acid test.

No, no, only a slight disparity
in the number of ridges

tells me they are not from
Her Majesty's Royal Mint.

Right again, these fellows are
buying up silver dirt cheap

and turning out
the spitting image

of real five-shilling pieces
and making 100% profit

- on each one.
- Ooh!

Ingenious people.

Mm, I haven't a trace of them,

except the name of the
fellow who's shoving them.

What? Oh, putting
them into circulation.

You might ask why
we don't arrest him.

Oh, my dear inspector,
he alone can lead you

to the rest of the gang, huh?

Who is he?

A Mr. Ralphe Summertrees,

and he lives in no less
a fashionable street

than Park Lane.

We've been onto him
for about six weeks.

He's not married.

He lives alone with a
housekeeper, a butler, a valet,

oh, and a French cook.

And now let us pray.

When the wicked turneth
away from wickedness

and doeth that which
is lawful and right,

he shall save his soul alive.

Oh, a French cook. This
case does interest me.

Then you'll help us?

I shall need more
coin specimens,

dates and locations of recovery,

and all the information
you have about Summertrees

and his household.

It's all at the Yard.

Phelps, a coach and a
cab at once, please.

- Yes, sir.
- You know,

I suspect Mr. Summertrees
is worthy of my attention.

Ha, ha, hey!

You heard something?

Come in, Podgers.

Clear up that mess, will you?

Yes, sir.

Do you know what this is?

No, sir.

A yataghan, once used
by Turkish executioners.

Yes, sir.

Oh, Podgers.

Sir? I beg your pardon, sir?

The safe, man. Open it.

The safe?

There's only one
safe in this room.

I'm sure you've long been
curious as to its contents.

- Oh, no, sir, I wouldn't-
- How odd.

You know, if I were a butler,

I should long to know
such things, come.

I want the safe emptied.

- Nothing else?
- No, sir.

Well, don't go, Podgers.

You can be of assistance to me.

You will count this for me.

So the coining plant is
not in Summertrees' house.

I know. Your man
has searched it.

- My man?
- The worthy Podgers, huh?

The housekeeper is female,
the cook is French,

and as between the
butler and the valet-

Lucky guesswork
that's your secret.

You have
seen through me, huh?

Why did you first
suspect Summertrees?

Ah, his luxurious
mode of living,

and we are satisfied no
visible source of income.

He calls himself an author.

Oh, he makes no money from it.

Yet he locks himself
up in his study,

day after day, writing.

All day?

He even makes his own lunch
in there on a spirit stove.

In other words, he
is invisible all day.

Oh, he has a fancy French
meal in the evening.

Sensible man, eh?

Then he goes to bed,
and that's his life.

Except that he goes
to the bank every day

and deposits a
great deal of money.

And all in coin, all in coin.

Which you have examined.

Sergeant Carew?

Yes, sir, I go through
every consignment.

First-class fellow.

And you have repeatedly
found forged coins, huh?

Yes, sir.

The bank's damned sticky about
it. Breach of confidence.

This isn't France, you know.

How is the money brought
to Summertrees' house?

Man by the name of
Simpson, elderly chap,

runs a curiosity shop
in Tottenham Court Road,

stays over night.

At the house every night?

Yes, then he goes back
to his shop in the morning,

where he spends the day.

Mm. Could the coining
plant be there?

We don't know.

And if we raid it, well, we
might scare the whole gang off.

I was wondering if you could
get in the shop for us.

Unofficially?

Oh, unofficially, of course.

No wonder the British Empire
is painted red on the map.

It is blushing. Mm.

I shall search the house, too.

I've told you there's
nothing there.

So says Podgers, but he is
not an unscrupulous froggy.

Will you bring Podgers
to me tomorrow?

Very well.

This Summertrees is an
extremely clever man.

We must hope that he is
not also dangerous, huh?

Do the totals agree?

Yes, sir.

Good. You'll take it to
the bank for me tomorrow.

The bank, sir?

Why so
surprised, Podgers?

A good servant
should be trusted.

Oh, yes, sir, I'm sure-

And loyalty is
something I always reward.

Oh, oh!
Bonjour, Madame.

Bonjour, monsieur.

I could not
live a day without them.

Oh, merci,madame. Mm, mm, mm.

Oh, delicious.

Good morning. Are my
Florentines ready, please?

Yes, mademoiselle.

Mademoiselle.

Uh, now I know that
prayers are answered.

I beg your pardon.

Oh, you do not remember, oh, oh,

but we have more in common

than Madame's
delicious Florentines.

Is it your habit to
accost strange ladies?

I would not dream of it,
especially in London,

but we have met before.

Oh, you are mistaken.

No, no, no, no, no.

You are the mysterious young
lady who emerged from the fog,

a durable fog, outside
Lord Semptam's house, oui?

Oh. Mysterious?

Well, confidentially,
I was mystified

to know why such a charming
young lady would be calling upon

so confirmed an old bachelor
as Lord Semptam.

- Voila, mademoiselle.
- Ah.

Thank you.

Ah. You share my weakness.

Nowhere else in
London can one obtain

such exquisite Florentine,
don't you think?

- Excuse me.
- Ah, but now that you know

I am not an improper gentlemen,

won't you join me in a cup of
madame's perfect coffee, hmm?

Here are your
Florentine, monsieur.

Pardon.

Merci,Madame.

Mademoiselle!

Mademoiselle?

Unspeakable fog.

Madame, may I see the
coin the young lady left?

- These, monsieur?
- Oui.Voila.

But, monsieur-

A souvenir, huh?

That is carrying

a little too far.

Mm. Ah, good morning, Hale.

- Monsieur Valmont.
- Bonjour.

- My man.
- Podgers.

- Podgers.
- Podgers, good morning,

Podgers, do sit
down, both of you.

Oh, Podgers, you're
out of breath.

Have you been chasing
some miscreant, huh?

I had to rush from
the bank, sir.

The master sent me
there with his money.

He did? Ah, a truly
artistic touch.

I must say you look every
inch the butler, Podgers.

- Thank you, sir.
- We know a bit over here,

- Monsieur Valmont.
- Yeah.

Now, Podgers, I want
to ask you some things.

You're a sharp, observant man.

What strikes you as
unusual in that house?

Well, sir, Mr.
Summertrees do stick

to his writing pretty close.

Hard at it from, what,
till 7:00 at night, say?

- Yes, sir.
- Anything else?

Well, sir, he is one

for reading the newspapers, sir.

Oh, which newspapers?

All of them, sir,
the morning papers

are put out for
him every morning

and evening papers as they come,

and he takes them all
upstairs to his study.

Striking fact. Ah.

You've reported this to
your chief, of course.

- No, sir.
- But it is vital-

Oh, come, now. Everyone
reads the papers.

All of them?

- Well.
- No!

What happens when he
has finished with them?

I take them down to the
cellar for burning, sir.

Then you can safely
remove one day's supply

and deliver them to me, eh?

Now, I want to ask you

about this clerk, this Simpson.

What time does he
arrive at the house?

Prompt at 6:00, sir.

Does he ring
or let himself in?

He has a door key, sir.

How does
he carry the money'?

In a locked
leather bag, sir,

chained to his wrist.

He takes it upstairs and
gives it to Mr. Summertrees.

You mean
he hands it to him?

He leaves it
outside the door and knocks.

You see, Mr. Summertrees
mustn't be disturbed.

- Oh.
- Oh, it might drive away

his inspiration quite, and?

Simpson goes
upstairs to his room.

Which is
on the next floor?

Yes, sir,
just above the study.

I understand.

Where do you and the
other servants sleep?

On the fourth floor, sir.

No doubt Mr. Summertrees is
so wrapped up in his work

that he does not bring the money

into the room right away, huh?

Not for awhile, sir,

on the few occasions I've
been able to observe.

As much as half an hour? Oui.

Does the clerk ever
dine with his master?

No, sir, Simpson he doesn't
eat in the house at all.

Oh, he has no breakfast,
yet he stays till-

10:00 a.m., sir.

And his master has breakfast at-

9:30 a.m, sir.

And after breakfast?

The master locks himself
in the study, sir.

- At?
- 9:30 a.m., sir.

Oh, these recurring half-hours.

And he stays there
all day, never rings

- nor asks for anything?
- No.

Well, Hale, the case
is perfectly plain.

What's perfectly plain?

Summertrees is no
coiner, nor is he linked

with any bank of coiners.

Well, damnation. Well,
what is he, then?

Oh, well, that will open
another line of inquiry.

He may well be the
most honest of men

who wishes to hide the
connection with his shop

because he lives among the
aristocrats of Park Lane, no?

What rot, he's not
married, lives alone,

belongs to no clubs, never goes
anywhere, never entertains.

He's got nothing to
be ashamed about.

Well argued.

All this, and you
tell us nothing.

Au contraire,I have
told you he is no coiner.

Well, I know you say he isn't.

It is the same thing.

Of all the conceited-

Do you want my assistance?

Your assistance-

Then you, Podgers, will take me

to the Summertrees house now.

Now?

Now.

But Summertrees is there.

I assure
you he will not know.

You must be mad, Valmont.

Not without method.

I'll be hung, drawn, and
quartered if you're caught.

If I am caught, Inspector Hale,

you may arrest me yourself.

I shall truly deserve it.

- Summertrees' study.
- Shh.

Yes, yes, yes. His servants?

All out except the housekeeper
downstairs ironing.

Bon.

The clerk's bedroom. Bon.

- Shh.
- Don't shush me.

I suppose you think
I'll clean the silver.

You know he mustn't
be disturbed.

Then I shan't hang about.

Where are you going?

To Mr. Simpson's bedroom.

You can't.

Can't, Mr. Podgers?

The door's stuck.

Then I shall open it.

Kindly stand aside, Mr. Podgers.

Now look what you've done.

Oh. Sorry, Mr. Summertrees.

Sir.

- She's gone?
- Well, I'll be blowed.

Come on.

But I heard.

You heard me searching the
room and opening the safe,

which, as you see,
is empty, voila.

Uh-huh. Now.

A secret staircase. Come.

You've been tiptoeing
past an empty room

- for two weeks, you know.
- But, but where's-

Come along. Be careful.

It is steep.

Now, close the door.

Voila and now.

But, but Summertrees.

Oh, he will come back.

And so, I daresay,
will Mr. Simpson.

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, sir.
Can I help you?

No, no, thank you.

I would just like
to browse, you know?

Oh, carry on, sir. Carry on.

Merci.

Hello, Mr. Simpson.

Good morning, Rogers.

I'll see you
tomorrow, then, Mr. Simpson.

Uh, how much is this crucifix?

Seven and sixpence, sir.

Ah, seven and six.

I will take it.

Here is a sovereign.

Thank you, sir. One sovereign.

That's right, seven
and six, 10, one, par.

- Merci.
-

Shan't be long, Tyrrell.

Oh, no, please, please go ahead.

Oh, thank you, sir.

- Excuse me.
- Bon.

Whew!

It's rather a pretty
little picture, oui.

Oh-oh.

See you tomorrow.

Oh, I say.

Uh, this is rather nice. Hmm.

Oh, yes, sir.

It's a real bargain
at five shillings.

Five shillings? Let me see, oh.

Milady.

There we are. Uh-oh.

A five-shilling piece exactly.

Shall I wrap your
purchases, sir?

No, no, don't bother.
Thank you so much.

- Excuse me, sir.
- Bien.

Good afternoon.

So, hmm, there are no
dud coins at the shop?

No. Simpson took my
forged five-shilling piece

without a murmur and gave
me a perfectly genuine coin

in exchange for my sovereign.

- Mm.
- Mm-hmm.

To your satisfaction?

Mm. Very nice.

Mm. Nice, tender rabbit.

It's frog. Frog fritters.

A little effort of mine while
Phelps is out on business.

- Help yourself.
- Well, I should-

I'm so glad you like them.

You know, I could
not work with a man

who did not appreciate
my cooking, uh-huh.

So this shop must be
a collecting depot.

Oh, oui,but for whom?

The coiners.

Oh, Hale, Hale, you are
incorrigible, you know.

Do try the Puligny-Montrachet.
It's absolutely divine.

But Simpson-

Simpson and
Summertrees are the same man.

Simpson goes into the bedroom.

He takes off his hat.

He takes off his coat.

He removes his disguise,
and Summertrees comes out

of the study, and
vice versa, beautiful.

The scoundrel. He
must be a criminal.

But not a coiner.

Well, what, then?

During my labors in the kitchen,

you had time to examine those
papers that Podgers sent, hmm?

Deuced if I could find anything.

Ah, you were
distracted, no doubt,

by the delicious odor
of my frogs, huh?

Bon.Now I will show.

All these papers have
similar advertisements

signed by the same name,
this name.

Mm. "Absent-mindedness
a curse and its cure.

Restore your memory.

Write to: Doctor
Willoughby." Damnation!

Exactly, at the address
of the curio shop

in Tottenham Court Road.

And here is the pamphlet
that Simpson was sending out.

A cure for absent-mindedness?

Well, well, what
does it all mean?

You still do not know, huh?

Well, no.

I wonder

what made Britain
great.

I will proceed.

Now, look. I shall write.

"Dear Dr. Willoughby,

I am a very

absent-minded man,

and I would be glad

of your pamphlet."

Bon,"My handicap
is a great failing

because I collect,"

oh, uh, "first editions."

- First editions?
- Why not?

"Yours faithfully," who
shall I be for a change, huh?

I know. "Alport Webster."

- Alport Webster?
- Oui.

I'll be off now, guv.

Save some of
that champagne for us.

Why did you get me here?

Well, Lord Semptam's library
is always worth a visit,

especially to an amateur
of art like myself.

- Now, look here, Valmont-
- For instance,

the rare and fascination
art of cameo cutting,

medallion engraving, the
design of ancient coins.

Damn your art books.

You'd be better reading this.

Carew's been found in
the river, murdered.

My best man, and as nice a
chap as you could hope to meet.

I know. I have seen it.

I am not playing games
with you, Mr. Hale.

I promise you will get your man.

I promise. Now, look.

- Map of London?
- Oui.

The dots represent all the
places where forged coins

have been recovered.

- But you will observe-
- The one area

where none have been found.

Good for you, Hale.

Don't kill him. Not yet.

How fortunate that
the artists of London

have made Chelsea their quarter.

So close to the river.

Well, who sent you?

Do you know why he
doesn't talk, Joe?

He wants to go on modeling.

It is the greatest moment
of this guttersnipe's life,

to be my model.

Talk, you scum!

It's Fred.

You've got the silver?

Who is he?

That is what we must,
at all costs, find out.

I'll make him talk.

Perhaps, Fred,
but wait a moment.

I want to know who sent you.

Gah, best kill him right off.

No. We must know if
anyone is onto us.

Watch him talk.

You must find Inspector
Hale, you understand?

Oui,and give him my message.

- Aah, aah, aah.
- Phelps!

Sixpence if you'll hurry!
It's life or death!

Aye, it's life and
death for my horse

if he breaks his leg.

A shilling, damn you.

Governor, you don't understand.

I love this horse.

I love this horse
like a brother.

Half a crown.

Get up, there! Get up!

Keep still, you cur.

That, I believe,
was the appellation

with which you favored me, sir.

That will do, Phelps.

Go and make yourself look more
like a gentleman's gentleman.

Yes, sir.

How did you do it?

Inspector Hale remarked
that the coins were the work

of a real artist.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, I
know that coining

of such quality demands the art

of a highly skilled
medallion engraver.

My friend, I am a genius.

You know, I'm inclined
to agree with you.

The world owes me something.

And you took it.
How understandable.

Valmont, Phelps. Oh!

I see I needn't have hurried.

- Voila.
- Ah!

Uh-huh, and here

are your coiners and your
murderers, Inspector.

Right. Take them.

Come on.

Alas, dear friend, with me,

even art does not
come before justice.

Off With him.

Well, Valmont
the case is closed.

On the contrary. There
is still Mr. Summertrees.

But you said he was innocent.

No, no, I said he was no coiner.

Well, why do we want him, then?

Because he is a
criminal more subtle,

more audacious, more
devilishly ingenious

than any I have ever known.

Oh..

Yes, yes, I'm in.

Step this way, please.

Miss Mackail?

Yes.

Oh, but, but how remiss
of me to, please sit down.

Thank you.

May I know how you found me?

Found you, Mr. Webster?

Mr. Webster? Ah, yes, of course!

You are Mr. Alport
Webster, are you not?

My name is on the door,
is it not?

I must confess myself astonished

that Mr. Webster-

Is none other than
the gentleman who,

with the purest of intentions,

offered you a cup of coffee?

Shall I admit that I,
too, am astonished, hmm?

Ah,.

A Florentine.

Thank you. I cannot resist them.

I know. I know.

And, now, Miss Mackail,
in what can I serve you?

Are you at all interested in
first editions, Mr. Webster?

Oh, oh, first editions,

the one thing I
am interested in.

What do you think of this?

Oh.

Dr. Johnson's "Rasselas."

Oh, but this must be worth
every penny of 25 pounds.

It has been valued at 30.

- Yes?
- But if you wished,

it might be yours
for the lower sum.

Oh, extraordinary. Um.

Would you mind telling me
how you came to be possessed

of this book?

It is the property
of a friend of mine

who permits me to dispose of it

at a small profit, of course.

Of course, of course.

May I know his name?

Mr. Ralphe Summertrees
of Park Lane.

Oh, Park Lane, indeed.

You may inquire of
him if you wish.

I'm sure he would not hesitate
to say a word in my favor.

I'm sure. I would not
dream of it, 25 pounds.

Perhaps so great an outlay
would be inconvenient.

You know, I am so, how you,
absent-minded, you know?

My affairs are in
some confusion.

Well, I
know it is often so.

I have a backer
who, in such cases,

will advance the sum required.

Really?

All that
you would have to do

would be to pay a
certain sum each week.

Oh? Say, well, uh.

Would 10 shillings be too much?

Oh, no, no, that's perfect,
Miss Mackail, perfect. Um.

Your purse is on
the mantelpiece.

Oh, dear. I shall forget
my head next, huh?

Will it be necessary to
sign any form or agreement

for the total amount?

There need be
no formalities, Mr. Webster.

Your honesty is plain to behold.

As yours is, Miss
Mackail. Voila.

Thank you. I shall call
on you this day next week.

Might we not, in the meantime,

meet to discuss books and, uh-

Mr. Webster, I have my
good name to preserve.

Oh, of course, pardon. Oui.

It's a good fit? Bon.

Look behind the counter.

I will go to the alcove
where the desk is.

Oh? Look here.

Nothing over here, sir.

Could you bring
your lamp in here?

It's so dark. I
can't see a thing.

Bon, these are perfectly
ordinary account books,

daybook, journal, ledger.

What's this? Oh!

Mr. Rogers, our friend Mr.
Tyrrell and Miss Mackail, aha.

Four columns date, address,

amount of money, objects sold.

And here I am, you see.

Mr. Alport Webster,
address, 25 pounds,

first-edition "Rasselas,"
and here in this little box

at the end, the amount to be
paid weekly, 10 shillings.

Sounds a perfectly
respectable business, sir.

Oui,with some very
distinguished clients, huh?

Lord Semptam.

"1895." Pass me the
others quickly, would you?

"1894."

Merci.

"1893.

This is the one I
want to look at.

Now, then, where are we?

Ah! Here we are.

Here we are. Oh!

Brilliant. What audacity, huh?

Sir?

Lord Semptam bought a
Sheraton writing table

three years ago for 50 pounds,

and he's been paying two
pounds a week ever since.

And he will go on paying forever

if that young lady
goes on calling on him.

It is a
conception of genius.

But indubitably
criminal, sir.

Yes, oh, Phelps,

she has the loveliest
gray-blue eyes.

Valmont, you tell me that
Summertrees is a swindler.

No, no, no, no, no, one
needs a less crude word.

He is unique.

Do you have the evidence?

Are you free this evening, hmm?

You're not gonna cook
me snails for dinner?

Splendid
idea. No, no, no, no.

Eh, you must look
rather impressive

in your inspector's
uniform, huh?

Bless my soul, he wants
me to dress up for it.

My dear friend, you must
do exactly as I say.

Oh, I beg your pardon. I
expected to meet Mr. Webster.

Oh, there you are, Mr. Webster.

I did not notice you at first.

Miss Mackail, you
have heard perhaps

the name Eugene Valmont, hmm?

No. Should I have?

Phelps.

Sit down, Miss Mackail, please.

You have called on
Lord Semptam this week?

Oh, you should know. You are
presumably a friend of his.

And collected two
pounds from him?

This gentleman is plainly
a police inspector.

What are you, Mr. Webster?
Or Monsieur Valmont?

You shall learn who
Eugene Valmont is.

In 1893, you sold Lord
Semptam a Sheraton table?

- Well, yes.
- For 50 pounds?

I do not remember.

You will refresh your memory.

Lord Semptam has paid for
that table six times over

and is still paying.

Of what are you accusing
me, Monsieur Valmont?

Of criminal fraud.

Is it not you who are
guilty of criminal fraud,

in presenting yourself
to me under a false name,

on false pretenses?

Inspector, can I bring
charges against this man?

He can only have obtained
this sheet by burglary.

He has grossly deceived me
and used his foreign wiles

to undermine my virtue,
in vain, may I say.

But why on earth should
Lord Semptam go on paying?

Because he is absent-minded,

because all the
victims of this gang

are absent-minded.

Now, you-you will change
your tone, Miss Mackail.

You have changed yours,
Monsieur Valmont.

Only yesterday you adored me.

Justice comes first, dear lady.

Or perhaps that was part
of your gross deception.

Alas, no, no, no, it
was genuine.

Hale, you saw these
newspapers, huh?

A cure for absent-mindedness.

Oui,the poor fools who
answered the advertisements

were visited by this young
lady and the other five members

of the gang and
fell into the trap.

The gang took advantage
of their absent-mindedness

to collect payments forever.

Where is your proof?

Oh, yes, Valmont,
we-we need evidence.

The evidence is in the records
kept by Mr. Summertrees

or Simpson or Dr. Willoughby,
the man of three identities.

It is not illegal for a man

to carry on a business
under an assumed name,

nor to sign pamphlets
under a pseudonym.

Ah! So, you admit the
existence of the pamphlet, huh?

The core of the whole fraud!

Fraud, indeed. Mr. Summertrees
has a harmless fad.

He believes that
absent-mindedness can be cured

by self-hypnosis.

Like many others, he's put
his beliefs into print.

But Lord Semptam's payments?

His lordship is a
frequent customer of ours.

We keep a sort of
running contract with him

by which he pays us
two pounds a week.

I can prove it.

Oh. How?

This is my visiting
list, but you also need

what we term our encyclopedia.

That contains a full record
of all our transactions

and will bear out my words.

Very ingenious,
and how may one see

this indispensable volume, huh?

Simply by letting me use
your portable telephone

and asking Mr.
Summertrees for it.

Oh, no, you don't.
I know the number.

Ah, Central, get
me Park Lane 140.

Dear lady, you would
do better to confess.

I would be so pleased to
help you obtain clemency.

What a capital idea,
Monsieur Valmont,

a sort of absent-minded league.

It is you, not I, who
have a criminal mind.

Is that the residence of,

oh, it's you,
Podgers, Hale here.

Now, listen to me.

I want you to go
to Mr. Summertrees

and tell him Miss Mackail wants
the encyclopedia for 1893.

Now, if he won't give
it to you, arrest him.

Bring him and the volume
here to Mr. Valmont's flat.

Now, be quick about it. Right.

He'll be here in half an hour.

Must we wait that long
to prove my innocence?

We shall use it to prove
your guilt. Pardon.

Come. Lord Semptam
is waiting for us.

Lord Semptam, has this
young lady sold you

any other articles besides
the Sheraton table?

Young lady? Now, where
have I seen you before?

But she's been calling
on you every week

for the last three years.

Bless my soul.

How kind of you to
remember a lonely old man.

It was to collect money.

Ah, for some good cause,
no doubt.

In October, in October 1893,
she sold you that table.

Ah! Is that how I came by it?

Oui.Has she sold you
any other articles?

Have you, young lady?

Indeed, yes, Lord Semptam.

It appears she has.

No doubt you have kept an
inventory, hmm, receipts?

Inventory, receipts?
Good heavens.

It would confuse me
to keep such things.

Do you mean you can neither
confirm nor deny her story?

Oh, please spare me
all these questions.

I cannot remember every trifle.

Oh, dear. Just imagine him in
the witness box.

- Nobody has called?
- No, sir.

Hmm. Oh, please sit down.

Podgers is taking his time.

While we are waiting,
Monsieur Valmont,

may I remind you that
you owe me 10 shillings?

Oh! You-you are incorrigible.

- Voila.
- Thank you.

Mm.

Monsieur, are you connected
with Scotland Yard?

Not likely.

You have no official standing
as a detective, then?

Only my reputation.

Ah, Summertrees.

Hello?
Yes, speaking. What?

Out of what?
Can't hear you, Podgers.

Out of print?
The encyclopedia's out of print?

Mr. Summertrees says so?

All right, all right.

What does this mean, huh?

That is a criminal offense!

I think not, monsieur.

English law.
She's got you there.

You do not belong
to Scotland Yard.

You had no right to it.

If it had been in
Mr. Hale's possession,

I should not have
dared burn evidence,

but you stole a confidential
document from my master

and I thought it best
to destroy it.

It-it was a signal, Valmont.

How brilliantly you
explain the obvious, Hale.

She must have arranged
with Summertrees

that if she ever telephoned
through the word encyclopedia,

he-he'd burn the records.

Oh, you've got to
face it, old man.

Every scrap of
evidence has vanished.

The farce is over, gentlemen.

Either arrest me
or unlock that door.

Or I promise you the
newspapers will make it hot

- for both of you.
- Newspapers?

Unlock the
door for her, Phelps.

Good evening, Mr. Hale.

Good evening, Monsieur
Eugene Valmont.

I shall give myself the pleasure

of calling on you next week
for my 10 shillings.

Well, so much for justice.

This time next week, hmm.

You know, with me,

there are some things
that come before justice.