(Man faintly) Sutton.
Sutton.
Sutton, help me.
Help me, Sutton!
Please, help!
Help!
Help me, Sutton!
Sutton! No!
Don't let them take me, Sutton!
Help me, Sutton!
Sutton!
Don't let them take me, Sutton. Help me!
Help me, Sutton!
Sutton, help!
Please, help!
Help!
Help me!
Help me, Sutton!
Sutton!
Sutton, Sutton! Help!
Help me!
Sutton! Sutton!
You mustn't take it so badly, Holmes.
What?
It's inconvenient, but you mustn't let it affect you.
Whatever do you mean?
You are sitting there boiling with indignation
because you have been forced from the comfort of 221 b
by the ardour of Mrs Hudson's spring cleaning.
My dear Watson, however did you deduce that?
- By applying your methods. - Indeed.
You are not here for either a shave or a haircut.
That is true. How did you know?
You invariably shave yourself
and you are not due for a haircut for another two weeks.
- Correct. - And you left our rooms in haste.
You are without either your gloves or your cane.
- Go on. - Well...
I know that Mrs Hudson has been trying to complete her spring cleaning.
Now, you have been sitting there frowning,
eyes tightly closed, grinding your teeth
and your fingers have been drumming like pistons on the arm of the chair.
So, given all this evidence, even I cannot fail to deduce
that you have quarrelled with our housekeeper
and sought refuge in the sanity of the barber's shop.
There. You cannot deny that I am right.
Ah, Watson. You could not be further from the truth.
I am here to get our barber's advice as to this specimen of hair
found at the scene at a bloody misadventure in Deptford.
You're worried about something.
What you perceived as agitation was indeed
the most intense, tranquil enjoyment.
My eyes were closed because I was trying to recall as vividly as I could
the concert that we attended last night.
You were grinding your teeth.
Because I made a slight error in my recollection
of Joachim's fingering in his cadenza.
The third movement of the Beethoven violin concerto. Pa-pa pa, pa-pa pa.
Nevertheless, there is an element of truth in what you say.
Hah!
(Watson laughs)
(Humming)
- A doctor's. - A general practitioner's, I perceive.
Not been long in practice or had much to do.
Come to consult us, I fancy.
Lucky we came back.
- Ah, Mr Holmes... - Thank you, Mrs Hudson. Doctor.
This is my friend and colleague, Dr Watson.
Pray resume your seat and tell me how I may serve you.
I am indeed a doctor.
My name is Percy Trevelyan. I live at 403 Brook Street.
Aren't you the author of a monograph upon obscure nervous lesions?
Yes, but I so seldom hear of the work I thought it dead.
By no means!
My publishers give me a most discouraging account of its sales.
- You are yourself a medical man? - Retired army surgeon.
My hobby is the study of nervous disease.
I would like to make it a speciality,
but a man must take what he can get first.
However, this is beside the question
and I do appreciate, Mr Holmes, how valuable your time is.
The fact is that a singular train of events has occurred recently
at my house in Brook Street,
and tonight they came to such a head that I could not wait another hour
before asking for your advice and your assistance.
You are very welcome to both.
Let me have a detailed account of the circumstances.
One or two of them are so trivial, I am almost ashamed to mention them.
But the matter is so inexplicable and so elaborate
that I shall lay it all before you and you shall judge what is essential.
I am a London University man
and I am not unduly singing my praises when I say
I was a very promising student.
A distinguished career lay before me.
However, there was one great stumbling block.
- Money? - Indeed, Doctor. Money.
I needed capital not only to practise
but also to get out of the squalid rooms I rented.
I could not expect my patients to trust me without the proper equipment.
(Watson) Yes. I've seen it happen.
I was obliged to go into the army to follow my career.
Indeed.
I had thought of abandoning my own career,
except for one sudden and unexpected incident.
Exactly what kind of incident?
One morning, two years ago, I received a visit from a man named Blessington
who, until that time, had been a complete stranger to me.
Come in.
Good heavens. Do you live here? In this?
Yes. I'm afraid I do.
You are the same Percy Trevelyan who's had so distinguished a career?
Won the Slater award for medicine?
I am.
Then answer me frankly, sir, and it's in your interests to do so.
Despite your financial situation,
you have the cleverness that makes a successful man,
- but have you the tact? - I have my share, sir.
Any bad habits? Not drawn toward drink?
Really, sir!
Quite right. Quite right.
- But I was bound to ask. - Why?
Why, sir? Simply, why with all these qualities are you not in practice?
It's the old story. More in the brains than in the pocket?
Sir, what would you say if I were to start you in Brook Street?
If a specialist is to succeed, he must aim high
and a practice in Brook Street is just the beginning.
Capital to keep yourself, to hire a respectable carriage.
A surgery that's worthy of you,
waiting room, servants
and the best equipment that money can buy.
That is what you will have, sir.
But why?
It's just like any other investment. Safer than most.
- And what am I to do? - I'll tell you.
I will take the house, furnish it, pay the maids and run the place.
All you have to do is to wear out the chair in your consulting room
and you hand over to me three-quarters of everything you earn
and keep one-quarter for yourself.
What do you say to that, sir?
Do you agree?
'This, Mr Holmes, was the proposal
'with which Mr Blessington approached me.
'I will not weary you with how we bargained and negotiated,
'but it ended with my moving into the house
'and starting in practice on the conditions he had suggested.'
Waiting room for your patients.
Your consulting room.
I can't believe it, Mr Blessington. Nor can I thank you enough.
'He took two rooms as a sitting room and a bedroom for himself
'and came to live with me in the character of a resident patient.
'His heart was weak, but not abnormal,
'and yet he demanded constant medical supervision.
'He was a man of singular habits,
'shunning company and seldom going out, except in one respect.
'Every evening he would go for a walk for half an hour exactly,
'no matter what the weather.'
(CIock chimes)
'And every evening he would come to the consulting room.
'He would examine the books, put down five and threepence for every guinea
'and carry the rest to the strongbox in his own room.
'I may say with confidence, Mr Holmes,
'that he never regretted his speculation.
'From the first it was a success.
'During the last two years I have made him a rich man.'
So much, Mr Holmes, for my past history
and my relations with the resident patient, Mr Blessington.
It only remains for me now to tell you what has occurred to bring me here.
Some weeks ago, Mr Blessington came down to me in... as it seemed to me,
a considerable state of agitation.
Dr Trevelyan! Dr Trevelyan! Dr Trevelyan!
Dr Trevelyan! Dr Trevelyan! Dr Trevelyan, sir!
- Mr Blessington, calm yourself. - Calm myself? Calm myself?
Have you not heard of the burglary?
Burglary? Where?
No, no! Not here, sir, not here!
But it could have been.
It could have been.
'In a week, the house had become a fortress of bolts, bars and locks.'
Are these bars strong enough?
Strong enough for the Bank of England.
Mr Blessington.
'When I questioned him,
'he became so offensive that I was compelled to drop the subject.
'I thought he meant to protect his strongbox,
'but then I suspected that it was his life he was protecting.
'From then on, he stopped going out, peered continually out of his windows
'and kept himself locked in his room in what I can only describe
'as a state of mortal dread.'
(Rain and thunder)
Dr Trevelyan, before you continue...
You found Blessington prostrate on his bed clutching a newspaper?
More precisely, the remains of a newspaper,
for he had torn it to shreds.
Torn to shreds.
Do you recall the contents of this newspaper at all?
- I'm afraid not. - When was this?
Some weeks ago. The beginning of May, I think.
As time passed, his fears appeared to die away
and he renewed his former habits.
Good evening, Dr Trevelyan. Wonderful evening.
I'm beginning to enjoy my walks again.
'And then, suddenly, a fresh event
'reduced him to the pitiable state of prostration in which he now lies.'
What happened was... yesterday I received this letter
from a Russian nobleman resident in England who suffers from catalepsy.
In it he announces his intention of visiting me for a consultation at 6:15.
(Speaks Russian)
'The difficulty in catalepsy is the rareness of the disease,
'so you may believe that at the appointed hour,
'I was eager to receive the patient.'
Good evening, gentlemen. I am Dr Trevelyan.
It was you, sir, I assume, who wrote to me?
My father speaks very little English, Doctor,
so I trust you will excuse my coming in with him
as his health is a matter of the most overwhelming importance to me.
Yes. I respect that, sir. Fenton?
Would you like to join us for the consultation?
Nyet, nyet. Not for the world.
It is more painful to me than I can express.
If I were to see my father in one of those seizures,
I am convinced I would never survive it.
My own nervous system is an exceptionally sensitive one.
I will remain in your waiting room while you go into my father's case.
Yes, of course.
Ah. Thank you, Doctor.
Thank you, Fenton.
Now, sir...
I hope you will forgive me if I ask you a few basic questions.
First, can you tell me your age?
67.
Apart from catalepsy, would you say you were physically sound?
Normally, do you have good health?
Um... No headaches?
Abdominal pain?
- Any pain at all? - No.
Good.
Naturally, I will examine you thoroughly.
This is merely a preliminary.
- Do you smoke cigars? - Yes.
- Do you drink alcohol? - Vodka.
Vodka.
I see.
Every day?
My God. I didn't expect...
'My first feeling was one of pity and horror.
'My second, I fear, was one of professional satisfaction.
'There was nothing markedly abnormal in his condition,
'which harmonised with my former experience.
'I had obtained good results in such cases
'by the inhalation of nitrate of amyl
'and the present seemed an admirable opportunity
'of testing its virtues.'
Now, sir, I believe you can hear me.
I shall be back directly, rest assured.
Fenton! Fenton!
Fenton, immediately.
The two gentlemen you showed in, did you see them leave?
Leave? No, sir.
- Are you sure? - I'm positive, sir.
(Door bangs)
- Good evening, Dr Trevelyan. - Good evening. How was your walk?
A little rain, but very amiable, my good sir. Very amiable.
- Did you hear them leave? - No, sir. I wasn't in the hall.
You should have been. That is your duty. You should know by now.
Doctor! Doctor!
Someone has been in my room!
- No one has been in your room. - It's a lie! You're lying to me!
I assure you I am not.
Fenton? Have you been in Mr Blessington's room?
- Course I haven't. - There you are.
Then come up and see for yourself.
- Now, sir. - Look at those.
Are you telling me that they're mine?
They do appear to be too large for yours.
Of course they're not mine!
I always remove my galoshes at the front door.
- Has anything been stolen? - No, but that's not the point.
Nothing has been stolen?
My privacy has been invaded by a stranger!
(Sobs)
Mr Blessington?
- Mr Blessington. - Leave me alone.
Go away and leave me alone.
Surely there's something I can do to help.
- Shall I call the police? - No.
No, not those bunglers.
There's only one person who can help me now.
'And that is why I am here.'
But I must apologise for such a trivial reason.
A thief that doesn't steal...
- Did he ask for me by name? - Oh, yes.
Then let us be on our way.
Thank you.
This way?
Stay where you are! I've a pistol!
I will shoot if you come any nearer!
Mr Blessington, this is outrageous, sir! Do you not recognise me?
- Is that you, Doctor? - Yes, of course it is me.
The other gentlemen - are they what they pretend to be?
They are Mr Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr Watson.
Good God! It was you that asked me to fetch them.
Yes. Yes, yes...
Forgive me.
Gentlemen, do come up.
I'm sorry if my precautions have annoyed you.
Good evening, Mr Holmes. I'm much obliged to you for coming.
No one has ever needed your advice more than I. No one.
I expect Dr Trevelyan has told you of this intrusion into my rooms.
Mr Blessington, who are these two men?
Which men? I don't know them.
Why do they wish to molest you?
Molest me?
- You can't expect me to answer that. - You don't know?
Come in here please.
Just have the kindness to step in here.
I've never been a rich man, Mr Holmes.
I've never made but one investment in my life. Dr Trevelyan knows.
But I don't believe in bankers, sir.
Never trust a banker, Mr Holmes.
Just between ourselves, what little I have is here in this strongbox.
You can see what it means to me
when unknown people force themselves into my rooms!
Mr Blessington...
I cannot advise you if you try to deceive me.
Deceive you? But I've told you everything.
- Goodnight, Dr Trevelyan. - Mr Holmes!
No advice for me?
My advice to you is to speak the truth.
Holmes?
(Thunder)
Cab!
Holmes?
I can read in a man's eye when it's his own skin he's frightened for.
- But why did you call him a liar? - He does know who these men are.
Cab!
The young Russian penetrated to Blessington's rooms
while his confederate kept the doctor from interfering.
And catalepsy is very easy to imitate.
Yes, I know. I've done it myself.
Holmes, might there be one alternative?
Grotesquely improbable, but just conceivable.
Might the story of the Russians be a concoction of Dr Trevelyan's?
Who has been in Blessington's room.
Did you see the footprints on the stairs? They were square-toed.
Quite unlike Blessington's and an inch longer than Trevelyan's.
I think we can sleep on this, Watson.
I shall be surprised if we do not hear from Brook Street tomorrow.
- Goodnight. - Night, old fellow.
Morning, Doctor. Your tea's here.
Thank you, Nora.
Mr Blessington, your breakfast tea.
Mr Blessington?
Aagh!
(Soft snoring)
Watson?
Get dressed quickly. There's a cab waiting for us.
- What's the matter? - The Brook Street business.
Any fresh news?
"For God's sake, come at once. P Trevelyan."
- Mr Holmes, I'm so glad you're here. - What has happened?
- Blessington has committed suicide. - Suicide?
Yes. He hanged himself during the night.
(Whistles)
- Has the body been touched? - No.
- Where's the page? - Nowhere to be found.
(Sobbing)
- Good morning, Inspector. - Mr Holmes. Delighted to see you.
Please take a look. We were just about to take him down.
- Right, Inspector. - Stretcher!
That'll be all.
Have you heard of the events leading up to this affair?
- Yes. From Dr Trevelyan. - Have you an opinion?
The man was driven out of his senses by fright.
The bed has been well slept in. There was his impression for all to see.
It is about five in the morning that suicides are most common.
That would be about the time he hanged himself.
It seems to have been very deliberate.
Yes. I'd say he'd been dead about three hours.
Thank you. Notice anything peculiar about the room?
A screwdriver on the mantelpiece
and he seems to have smoked heavily last night.
I found these in the fireplace.
- Have you his cigar holder? - I haven't seen one.
- His cigar case then? - Yes. It was in his coat pocket.
This is Havana.
These are cigars imported by the Dutch from their East Indian colonies.
They're usually wrapped in straw and are thinner than any other brand.
I don't suppose you've read my monograph on cigars?
- Well, I... - No, of course not.
Thank you.
These have been smoked with a holder and these without.
These have been cut by a not very sharp knife
and these have had their ends bitten off by... a set of very excellent teeth.
There were three men here last night.
Good heavens! But nothing was stolen, so what were they doing here?
- That is what we have to find out. - How did they get in?
The same way we did - the front door.
The door was barred in the morning.
- Then it was barred after they left. - How do you know that?
I saw their traces.
Give me a few moments and I may be able to give you further information.
Don't move, Watson.
The actual facts are very simple.
I shall be surprised if by the afternoon I cannot give you the reasons for them.
Can't you tell us anything now?
Oh. There is no doubt as to the sequence of events.
There were three of them in it. A young man, an old man and a third -
to whose identity I have no clue.
The first two, I need hardly remark,
were the same who masqueraded as the Russian count and his son.
So we can give a very good description of them.
They were admitted by a confederate inside the house.
'They entered the hall.
'The elder man first, the younger man second
'and the unknown man in the rear.
'They ascended the stairs.
'With the help of a wire, they forced the key.'
You can see where the pressure has been applied.
On entering the room,
the first proceeding must have been to gag Mr Blessington.
Having secured Blessington, it is evident to me
that a consultation of some sort was held.
Probably in the nature of a judicial proceeding.
It lasted some time - it was then that the cigars were smoked.
It was there that the older man sat.
'In the wicker chair.
'It was he who used the cigar holder.
'The younger man sat there.
'He knocked his ash off against the chest of drawers.
'The unknown fellow paced up and down.
'Blessington, I think, sat upright in the bed, but I cannot be certain.'
It ended, of course, by them taking Blessington...
(Strangled cry)
This matter was so prearranged
that it is my belief they brought with them some block or pulley
to serve as a gallows.
Yes, a gallows, Inspector.
This was a revenge ritual.
What an extraordinary story.
But what proof?
I'll have it before the day is out.
You haven't explained the screws.
That was to fix up the pulley,
but the chandelier hook saved them the trouble.
Inspector, I suggest that you make inquiries about the page
- and arrest him. - Certainly, Mr Holmes.
I will be back here before three o'clock.
Good day to you.
I dare say Mrs Hudson will be a little put out when she sees this.
- What are you looking for? - Worthingdon. W. Worthingdon.
March 1880, I'm sure.
March '80?
'80.
January, February...
March.
Any good?
Watson!
- Blessington. - Or Sutton, as he was known then.
Mrs Hudson.
Your little boat is coming along beautifully, Doctor.
Thank you, Mrs Hudson. I... must run.
Oh!
Oh... oh!
Ah, thank you.
Doctor. Any news, Inspector?
We've got the page. Drinking his earnings.
- I've got the men. - You've got them?
At least I've got their identity.
- The Worthingdon gang? - Precisely.
- Then Blessington was Sutton. - Exactly.
- That makes it clear as crystal. - Not to me.
Dr Watson?
You've heard of the Worthingdon bank affair?
There were five men in it. The three in this room,
a fourth named Cartwright... and Blessington.
All right. Let's be gone.
It's a hanging job now.
Only if someone squeals.
- That's him. - Are you positive?
Oh, yes. That's him.
Sutton! Sutton, you're dead!
Sutton! Sutton!
(Screams)
Sutton, you're dead! Sutton!
Don't worry, Mr Sutton. It's a hanging job now.
Sutton! You heard!
(Watson) 'Sutton, or Blessington,
'who was the worst of the gang, turned informer.
'On his evidence, Cartwright was hanged
'and the other three got 15 years apiece.'
Biddle, Hayward and Moffat were released from prison a few weeks ago,
several years before their full term.
It was news of their release which caused Blessington to panic.
- So it was not fear of burglary? - No, no. That was a mere blind.
And setting me up in practice was an elaborate charade to protect himself.
Why could he not tell you this?
He was trying to hide his identity for as long as he could.
His secret was shameful and he couldn't divulge it.
However, wretch as he was,
he was living under the shield of British law
and I have no doubt that we shall see
that though the shield may fail to guard,
the sword of justice is still there to avenge.
(Watson) 'In spite of the efforts of Holmes, the murderers eluded the police
'and fled the country on a ship bound for Portugal.
'A few weeks later we learnt that the ship, the Norah Creina,
'had sunk with all hands
'upon the Portuguese coast some leagues to the north of Oporto.'
(Lively violin)
Holmes!
What's wrong?
It's just that I was going to spend the day writing.
The case of Dr Trevelyan. While the facts are still fresh.
Oh, and you mean? I understand.
Thanks awfully.
It's just that it is difficult to concentrate otherwise.
Er... What will you entitle this particular account?
(Chuckles)
I didn't know you were interested in my writing.
I'm always interested in your choice of titles.
Well, I thought I'd call it "The Brook Street Mystery".
No?
I would prefer "The Resident Patient", but please do not let me influence you.
"The Brook Street Mystery"... No doubt it would suffice.
(Lively violin)