(Watson) 'One Tuesday morning in autumn, at precisely half past eight,
'Sherlock Holmes received a mysterious message
'that two men of public distinction
'would be visiting Baker Street in their private capacity,
'and under circumstances of complete secrecy.'
Holmes, they're here.
(Muttering)
In brief, a document has been stolen from my private despatch box.
When I discovered my loss, at eight o'clock, I informed the Prime Minister.
It was at his suggestion that we come to you.
- You have informed the police? - No, sir, we have not done so.
Nor is it possible that we should do so.
To inform the police must, in the long run, mean to inform the public.
That is what we particularly desire to avoid.
And why, sir?
Because the document in question is of such immense importance
that its publication might easily, almost probably,
lead to European complications of the utmost moment.
Unless its recovery is attended by the utmost secrecy,
then it may as well not be recovered at all.
For all that is aimed at by those who have taken it
is that its contents should be generally known.
I understand.
Erm... Watson, do sit down!
Now, Mr Trelawney Hope,
I would be much obliged if you would tell me the exact circumstances
under which this document disappeared.
As Secretary of State for European Affairs,
I received the letter six days ago.
It was a letter from a foreign potentate, you understand.
It was of such importance that I never left it in my safe,
but I have taken it each evening to my house in Whitehall Terrace,
and kept it in my bedroom, locked in my despatch box.
You are sure it was there last night?
Quite certain. I opened the despatch box whilst I was dressing for dinner.
And I saw the letter inside. It then remained upon my bedside table.
My wife and I are light sleepers,
and swear no one entered the room during the night.
And yet this morning, the paper is gone.
- What time did you dine? - 7:30.
How long was it before you went to bed?
My wife had gone to the theatre and I had waited up for her. It was 11:30.
So, for four hours the despatch box had lain unguarded?
No one is ever permitted to enter that room,
save the maid in the morning and my valet the rest of the day.
Both trusty servants who have been with us many years.
Besides, neither of them could have possibly known
there was anything more valuable than the ordinary papers in my box.
- Surely your wife knew? - Mr Holmes!
I have long known how high is Mr Hope's sense of public duty.
In a case of this importance,
it would rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties.
You do me no more than justice, Prime Minister.
Until this morning, I have never breathed one word to my wife upon this.
Well, who is there in England who did know of this letter?
The Cabinet was informed yesterday,
but the pledge of secrecy was increased
by the solemn warning given by the Prime Minister.
God, to think that within a few hours, I myself should have lost it.
Besides the Cabinet,
two, possibly three officials know of the letter.
- No one else in England, I assure you. - But abroad?
I believe no one abroad has seen the letter except the man who wrote it.
I am well convinced
that the usual official channels have not been employed in this case.
Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is.
And why its disappearance should have such momentous consequences.
Mr Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour.
There is a seal of red wax, stamped with a crouching lion.
It is addressed, in bold handwriting...
Interesting and, indeed, essential as these details are,
my enquiries must go more to the root of things.
What was the letter?
That is a state secret of the utmost importance, which we cannot tell you.
Nor do I see that it is necessary.
Lf, by the powers you are said to possess,
you can find such an envelope as I have described, with its enclosure,
you will have deserved well of your country,
and earned any reward which it is within our power to bestow.
Gentlemen,
you are two of the most busy men in the country.
And in my own small way, I have a good many calls upon me.
I regret exceedingly that I am unable to help you in this matter.
And any continuation of this interview would be a waste of time.
I am not accustomed, sir, to such...
Then, Mr Holmes...
we must accept your terms.
No doubt you are right, and it is unreasonable for us
to expect you to act unless you have our full confidence.
- I agree with you, Prime Minister. - Then I will tell you.
Relying entirely upon your honour, and that of your colleague, Dr Watson.
I must appeal to your patriotism also.
For I cannot imagine a greater misfortune for this country
than that this affair should come out.
You may safely trust us.
The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate.
Who has been ruffled by some recent colonial developments of this country.
It is written hurriedly, and upon his own responsibility.
At the same time, it is couched in so unfortunate a manner
that its publication would lead to the most dangerous feeling in this country.
There would be such ferment, sir,
that I do not hesitate to say that within a week of the publication of this letter,
this country would be involved in a great war.
And it is this letter which may well mean
the expenditure of a thousand million pounds.
And the lives of a hundred thousand men.
Have you informed the sender?
A cipher telegraph has been despatched.
Perhaps he desires the publication of the letter?
No, doctor, we have reason to believe that he already understands
that he has acted in an indiscreet, hot-headed manner.
It would be a far greater blow to his country than to us
if this letter were to come out.
In whose interest is it that the letter should come out?
Why should anyone desire to steal and publish it?
And there, Dr Watson, you take me into the realms of high international politics.
But if you consider the European situation,
you will have no difficulty in perceiving the motive.
The whole of Europe is an armed camp.
Great Britain holds the scales.
If Britain were driven into war with one confederacy,
it would assure the supremacy of the other,
whether they were joined in the war or not.
(Holmes) So it is the enemies of this potentate
who want to publish this letter,
to make a breach between his country and ours?
Yes, sir.
To whom would the document be sent if it fell into the wrong hands?
To any of the great chancelleries of Europe.
It is probably speeding its way thither at this instant, as fast as steam can take it.
It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you.
There's no precaution which you have neglected.
Now, Mr Holmes, you are in full possession of the facts.
What course do you recommend?
You think that if this document is not recovered, there will be war?
I think it is very probable.
Then, sir, prepare for war.
That is a hard saying, Mr Holmes.
Consider the facts.
This document was taken
between half past seven and half past eleven yesterday,
so where can it be now?
No one has any reason to retain it.
It has been passed from hand to hand, rapidly,
to those who need it and who will pay well for it.
What chance do we have to overtake it or even trace it? It is beyond our reach.
What you say is logical, Mr Holmes.
I feel the matter is, indeed, out of our hands.
Meanwhile, Hope, we cannot ignore all our other duties
on account of this one misfortune.
Erm... Should there be developments during the day,
we will communicate with you.
And you, no doubt, will let us know the results of your own enquiries?
Thank you.
Telegraph!
Westminster murder!
Telegraph!
Westminster murder!
Telegraph!
The situation is desperate.
But not hopeless.
There are only three men capable of playing so bold a game.
Oberstein, La Rothiere and Eduardo Lucas.
Even now, if we could be sure which one of them has taken it,
it is just possible it has not passed out of their hands.
It's a question of money with these fellows, isn't it?
We have the Treasury behind us!
If it's on the market, I'll buy it. If it means another penny on the income tax.
- (Knocking on door) - Come in.
- It's me, Mr Holmes. - Mrs Hudson, what is it?
"Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope."
Show her in.
Has my husband been here, Mr Holmes?
Yes, he has been here.
Mr Holmes, I implore you not to tell him I came here.
Your Ladyship puts me in a delicate position.
I beg of you, sit and tell me what you desire.
I cannot make any unconditional promise.
Gentlemen, I will speak frankly to you,
in the hope that it will induce you to speak frankly in return.
There is complete confidence between my husband and myself,
in all matters except one.
That one is politics. On this his lips are sealed. He tells me nothing.
I am aware that there was a deplorable occurrence in our house last night.
I know that a paper has disappeared.
Because the matter is political,
my husband refuses to take me into his confidence.
Now, it is essential - essential, I say - that I should thoroughly understand it.
You are the only people, save these politicians, who know the true facts.
- At least, I presume you do. - You presume correctly, madam.
I beg you, then, tell me exactly what has happened and what it may lead to.
Tell me all, Mr Holmes. Let no regard for my husband's interests keep you silent.
For I assure you that his interests, if you would only see it,
would be best served by taking me into his complete confidence.
What was this paper which was stolen?
(Holmes) Madam, what you ask me is really impossible.
You must see that this is so.
If your husband thinks fit to keep you in the dark over this,
is it for me, who has learned the facts
under the pledge of professional secrecy,
to tell what he has withheld?
It is not unfair to ask.
- It is he who you must ask. - I have asked him.
I come to you as a last resort.
But without you telling me anything definite,
you would do me a service if you would enlighten me on one point.
What is it, madam?
Is my husband's political career likely to suffer through this incident?
If it is not put right, it may have a very unfortunate effect.
Oh.
One more question, Mr Holmes.
From an expression my husband dropped
in the first shock of the disaster,
I understood that terrible public consequences might arise.
If he said so, I cannot deny it.
Of what nature are they?
There again, you ask me more than I can possibly answer.
Hm.
Then I will waste no more of your time.
I cannot blame you, Mr Holmes, for refusing to speak more freely.
And you, on your side, will not think the worst of me
because I desire to share my husband's anxieties.
Even against his will.
Once more, I beg you will say nothing of my visit.
I say!
What a really remarkable and beautiful woman.
Hmm. The fair sex is your department, Watson. What did she really want?
Surely, her own statement was clear and her anxiety very natural.
Her appearance!
Suppressed excitement, restlessness. Her tenacity in asking questions.
She is the daughter of the Duke of Belminster,
and comes of a caste that does not lightly show emotion.
She was certainly much moved.
And you observed, of course,
how she manoeuvred to have her back to the light.
She did not wish us to read her expression closely.
She chose that chair in the whole room.
And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable.
How can you build on such a quicksand?
Their most trivial action may mean volumes.
Or their most extraordinary conduct may depend upon a hairpin or curling tongs.
- Good morning, Watson. - Are you off, then?
Holmes! Was one of the agents you spoke of called Eduardo Lucas?
- Yes. - Of Godolphin Street?
- Yes. - You'll not see him.
- Why not? - He was murdered at home last night.
Heavens!
- Does it say murdered? - "Murder in Westminster.
"Crime of a mysterious character. Eduardo Lucas, unmarried, 34,
"well-known in society circles on account of his personality.
- "Valet out." - They always are.
"Housekeeper heard nothing." - They never do.
"Just before midnight, Police Constable Barrett saw a door ajar,
"found Lucas stabbed to the heart."
Now, let me see.
"Prussian military dagger.
"Robbery does not appear to be the motive, valuable collection untouched."
- What do you make of this, Watson? - An amazing coincidence.
Coincidence?
Here is one of the three men we have named as possible actors in this drama.
He meets a violent end during the very hours that drama is enacted.
The odds are enormously against it being a coincidence.
The two events are connected, must be connected!
- It is for us to find the connection. - By now, the police must know all.
No, not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street.
They know, and shall know, nothing of Whitehall Terrace.
Only we know of both events, and can trace the relation between them.
It is with the late Eduardo Lucas that the solution to our problem lies.
But it is a capital mistake to theorise in advance of the facts.
Do you stay here, my good Watson. I will join you when I am able.
(Big Ben striking the hour)
(Big Ben strikes 12 o'clock)
Right into the van, please.
(Constable) Go on.
Watson, they've arrested the valet.
Lestrade has been put in charge of the case.
- He's buzzing around like a bluebottle. - I know him well.
- Would it help if I spoke to him? - It would not.
This is a case where the law is as dangerous to us as the criminals are.
We must be patient and wait.
(Newspaper seller) Standard! Westminster murder case.
Evening Standard.
Lucas murder case. Suspect released.
Murder case!
Standard!
Suspect released! Evening Standard!
Lucas murder case.
- Breakfast, Mr Holmes. - No, thank you. I don't want any.
I don't know, you'll fade away at this rate.
I say, Holmes! They've found the murderer.
- Or rather, murderess. - Indeed?
There's a wire from Paris. Apparently, Lucas was leading a double life.
He had a Creole wife in France, where he called himself Henri Fournaye.
The woman was reported to the police yesterday by her servants. She is insane.
A mania of a dangerous and permanent form.
- Poor woman. - Listen to this.
"She was seen near Godolphin Street on the night of the murder,
"and made an emotional scene at Charing Cross Station."
What do you think?
Oh, my dear Watson, you are so long-suffering.
If I've told you nothing these last days, it is because there is nothing to tell.
Even now, this report from Paris doesn't help us much.
Well, surely it's final as regards Lucas's death?
The man's death is a mere incident,
a trivial episode in comparison with our real task,
which is to trace the document and save a European catastrophe.
Now, if the letter were loose...
No, it cannot be loose.
But if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has it? Why is it held back?
If Lestrade found it amongst Lucas's papers,
he's not such a fool as to announce it.
He would inform the Chief Commissioner.
He would inform the Home Secretary, and he the Prime Minister.
No, it's not among Lucas's papers.
But why is it held back?
That is the question which beats in my brain like a hammer.
Was it a mere coincidence that Lucas should meet his death
on the night when the letter disappeared?
Did it ever reach him?
Has this mad wife taken it with her to Paris?
If so, is it in her house in Paris?
Shall I go to Paris?
That would alert the French police. Every man's hand is against us.
And yet...
The interests at stake are colossal.
Should I bring this to a successful conclusion,
it will represent the crowning glory of my career.
Holmes!
Thank you.
- There you go, guv. - Thank you.
Mr Holmes! Dr Watson!
You've heard I've been following the Lucas case?
Lucas? Lucas.
Ah, yes, the name does seem familiar to me.
Eduardo Lucas. Murdered last Tuesday night at his house in Godolphin Street.
A distinguished gentleman.
Student of international politics and a remarkable linguist, they say.
I've been in charge of the case, as a matter of fact.
Not an easy task, by any means. Some delicate problems, you understand.
But with the aid of our French friends,
I've been able to bring the case to a conclusion.
All the loose ends tied up. We've got it clear as if we'd seen it.
Congratulations. Another feather in your cap.
- Thank you. - Yes.
Oh, erm... Before you go, Mr Holmes.
It's a trifle, the sort of thing you take an interest in.
Queer, you know. What you might call freakish.
It has nothing to do with the main fact. Can't have.
What is it?
If you could come down to Godolphin Street,
I could explain it better on the spot.
- For a few minutes, perhaps. - Good. It's only just round the corner.
Erm... Thank you, cabbie.
Keep the change.
Here it all is.
The woman must have knocked on the door
after she saw the valet had gone out.
A surprise visit, no doubt.
Lucas let her in. He couldn't keep her on the street, could he, his own wife?
She was probably screaming, being French,
saying how she'd traced him, and reproaching him and so on.
Anyway, they came in here and one thing led to another.
And with the daggers being so handy, the end came soon.
It didn't happen in an instant. These chairs were swept over to the wall.
He had this one in his hand, as if he'd been trying to hold her off with it.
Yes, Lestrade. Thank you.
Now, tell me about this trifle.
Well, in crimes of this sort, we keep things in their position.
Nothing is moved. Officers in charge, day and night. I'm particular on that.
Oh, yes, you're meticulous, Inspector.
This morning, we thought we could tidy up.
Postmortem over, all the evidence to hand, investigation complete.
However, this carpet.
As you can see, it's not been fastened down, it's just been laid there.
Now, we had occasion to raise it.
- And we found... - Yes?
You'll never guess in a hundred years what we did find, Mr Holmes.
You see this stain? A good deal of blood must have soaked through, must it not?
Undoubtedly, it must.
Then you'll be surprised to hear
that there is no stain on the woodwork to correspond.
No stain?
- But there must be. - So you would say.
The fact remains... there isn't.
But the underside is as stained as the upper.
It must have left a mark.
Now I will show you the explanation.
There is a second stain, but it does not correspond with this one.
Dr Watson, will you take that side of the carpet?
Now we will move round in an anticlockwise direction.
What I want to know is, Mr Holmes,
who shifted the carpet, and why?
Lestrade, who was on duty the day after the murder?
Erm... The day after...
MacPherson. He's out there now.
Examine him carefully.
- I'll get him. - Don't do it before us.
We'll wait here.
Tell him you know someone has been here.
Press him. Tell him a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness.
- Do exactly as I tell you. - If he knows, I'll have it out of him.
Watson, quick! The table.
(Inaudible)
Come on!
Ah!
Empty! (Snarls)
Holmes!
(Lestrade) Never, in all my years in the force!
And another thing!
In here, Constable.
- MacPherson. How is the family? - Very well, thank you, sir.
Come on, out with it.
Let the gentlemen hear of your inexcusable conduct.
Well, I meant no harm, sir, I'm sure.
A woman came to the door, answering an advertisement about typewriting.
She mistook the house, she said. We got talking, sir. You know how it is.
- It's Ionely when you're out there all day. - Huh!
What happened, MacPherson?
We got talking about the crime.
She had read about it in the paper and wanted to see where it was done.
I saw no harm in letting her have a wee keek.
She got just about in the door there, spotted that mark on the carpet,
and down she dropped and lay for dead.
And no wonder!
Go on, MacPherson.
I was away at the Ivy Plant for some brandy,
and by the time I had brought it back, the young woman had...
Well, she wasn't here any more. She had recovered and was off.
Ashamed of herself, as like as not, and dared not face me.
MacPherson, did you move the carpet?
No, sir. I only straightened it out.
She'd fell on it, and the floor being slippery...
Let that be a lesson to you, Constable, that you can't deceive me!
You thought your breach of duty would never be discovered.
Yet a mere glance was enough
to convince me that someone had been admitted.
Lucky for you nothing's missing.
Otherwise, you'd find yourself in Queer Street.
That'll do.
Watson, what are we doing here? We have work elsewhere.
- Another feather in your cap, Lestrade. - Thank you, Mr Holmes.
Good Lord, Mr Holmes!
Hooray! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
- Have you solved it? - Hardly, Watson. Hardly.
(Knocking on door)
Two gentlemen wish to speak to you, my lady.
They do not have an appointment.
Who are they, Bates?
Mr Sherlock Holmes and a Dr Watson, my lady.
Very well, you may show them in.
Very well, my lady.
Excuse me...
Mr Holmes and Dr Watson, my lady.
Mr Holmes, this is surely most unfair and ungenerous on your part.
I have desired to keep my visit to you a secret.
You compromise me by coming here, showing there are relations between us.
Unfortunately, madam, I have no alternative.
I have been commissioned to recover an immensely important document.
I must ask you, therefore, to be kind enough to place it in my hands.
You insult me, Mr Holmes.
Do not ring, Lady Hilda. If you work with me, I can arrange everything.
If you work against me, I must expose you.
You're trying to frighten me.
It's not a very manly thing, Mr Holmes, to come here and browbeat a woman.
You have something to tell me. I give you five minutes.
One is enough, Lady Hilda.
I know of your visit to Lucas, of your giving him this letter.
Of your ingenious return to the room on the evening after the murder.
And of the manner in which you took this letter
from its hiding place under the carpet.
I have kept this because I thought it might be useful.
The policeman recognised you.
Once again, Mr Holmes, I tell you you are under some absurd illusion.
Oh, I am so sorry, Lady Hilda. I have done my best.
But I see that I am in vain.
Ah! Is Mr Trelawney Hope at home?
He'll be back at half past 12, sir.
Then we have... a quarter of an hour.
We will wait here.
Oh, spare me, Mr Holmes. Spare me.
For heaven's sake, don't tell him.
I love him so. I would not bring one shadow on his life,
and this would break his heart.
We have not an instant to lose. Where is the letter?
Here it is. I wish to heaven I'd never seen it.
- The despatch box? - With my husband.
Wherever he goes, he takes it with him.
We have only a few minutes left. Now, Lady Hilda, I am going far to screen you.
In return, you will spend the time telling me
the real meaning of this extraordinary affair.
It was on the afternoon of that day, that terrible day.
- The day Eduardo Lucas was murdered? - Yes.
I was just going out to pay some calls when a confidential note arrived for me.
It was from Lucas, asking me to visit him urgently,
as he had important and private information, for my ears alone.
'He had obtained, in some way, a letter of mine, Mr Holmes.
'An indiscreet letter, written before my marriage.
'A foolish letter, the letter of an impulsive, loving girl. I meant no harm.
'Yet my husband would have thought it criminal.
'Had he read that, his confidence would have been destroyed.
'It's years since I wrote it. I thought the whole matter was forgotten.'
(French accent) No doubt, you remember the content very well.
Very sprightly, I must say. You make a charming correspondent.
What do you want with me, Mr Lucas? May I have my letter back, please?
Of course you may, Lady Hilda.
But this is a very valuable piece of paper, would you not agree?
If it was laid before your husband,
he would hardly fail to appreciate the contents.
- You're a blackmailer. - A businessman.
This is purely a business transaction on my side.
I can assure you I wish no ill to you, or your husband.
How much money do you want for that letter?
Let's not speak of money, madam. My business is not so simple as that.
Well, the matter is an easy one.
Every evening, when your husband returns from his Ministry,
he brings with him his private despatch box.
Is that not so?
Yes.
When he comes home tonight, this box will contain a long, blue envelope,
sealed in red wax, with a crouching lion stamped on it.
Bring me that long, blue envelope, with its contents.
And I will return you this.
But... my husband...
No harm will come to him, I can assure you.
'Put yourselves in my position. What was I to do? '
Take your husband into your confidence.
I could not, Dr Watson. I could not.
On the one side seemed certain ruin.
On the other, terrible as it seemed to take my husband's paper,
in a matter of politics, I could not understand it.
While in a matter of love and trust, it was only too clear to me.
I did it, Mr Holmes. I did it.
I invented a story about going to the theatre.
(Woman) J'en étais sûre! Je le savais! C'est toi, sa nouvelle petite pute...
Marianne! Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici? Marianne!
Tu sais que tu ne peux pas quitter I'hôpital... Arrête!
- Je suis sa femme! - Marianne! Ça suffit!
- Ne me touche pas! - Est-ce que tu vas arrêter?
Garde ça pour ta pute...
J'en ai assez, tu entends!
Je ne te pardonnerai jamais!
The next morning, I realised I'd only exchanged one trouble for another.
I followed my husband and then came to you,
in order to understand the full enormity of the events.
I alone in the world knew where the paper was hidden.
My whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting it back.
- What I did... - (Creaking)
Here he is.
- Any news, Mr Holmes? Any news? - I have some hopes.
This is a matter of politics, my dear. We shall not be long.
The Prime Minister is lunching with us. May he share your hopes?
He has nerves of steel,
and yet I know he has hardly slept since this terrible event.
- Mr Holmes has some news for us, sir. - Ah! What have you to report?
Purely negative, as yet.
I have made enquiries at every point where it might be.
But I am sure there is no danger to be apprehended.
That's not enough, Mr Holmes.
We cannot live on this volcano. We must have something definite.
I have high hopes of getting the letter back. That is why I am here.
The more I think of it, the more I am convinced
the letter has never left this house.
Why should anybody take it in order to keep it in this house?
I am not convinced anybody has.
This joking is ill-timed. You have my assurance it was taken.
Have you examined the box carefully since last Tuesday?
No, I did not consider it necessary.
You could have overlooked the letter.
- Impossible, sir. - I have heard of such things.
- You have other papers in... - Yes, all my papers.
- It could have got mixed up. - It was on top.
- The box could have been shaken. - It's easily settled. Let's go and look.
This is a farcical waste of time.
Still, if nothing else will satisfy you, it shall be done.
Here you are. All my confidential papers, as you can see.
There's a letter from Lord Merrow,
a report from Sir Charles Hardy,
memorandum from Belgrade, the one we were discussing this morning,
note on the Russo-German grain taxes,
letter from Madrid, note from Lord Flowers on...
Yes, this is it!
And the letter is intact.
- Remarkable! - This is inconceivable.
Impossible, Mr Holmes.
Hilda!
How did you know it was here?
Because I knew it was nowhere else.
I cannot believe my eyes.
We have found the letter.
I know it is difficult for you to understand,
but it is the most wonderful news!
(Hope) It's extraordinary. I went through every paper.
I checked and I rechecked.
It's incomprehensible that I should have overlooked it in this manner.
Oh, gentlemen.
Come, there's more in this than meets the eye.
Ah, Prime Minister, we too have our diplomatic secrets.
Hm.
(Laughs)
Wahey!