04x02 - The Devil's Foot

Episode transcripts for the TV show "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes". Aired: March 14, 1985 to April 1994.*
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Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson investigate a scandal in Bohemia.
Included in this series are:
"The Return of Sherlock Holmes". Aired: February 5, 1987 to 1988.
"The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes". Aired: February 21, 1991 to 1993.
"The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes". Aired: 1994.
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04x02 - The Devil's Foot

Post by bunniefuu »

Almost there.

What does a Harley Street specialist know about my health?

Listen, Holmes, Dr. Moor Agar insists you have a complete rest if you wish to avoid an absolute breakdown.

The sea air will do you the world of good.

You should have traveled alone, Watson.

Nonsense.

You're on holiday.

Why it's wonderful, Holmes, wonderful!

The views are spectacular.

Well, we're looking at the most dangerous piece of coastline in the country.

Your friend is a natural historian, I presume?

An old acquaintance from my college days.

I'll see to the luggage.

Thank you.

Good day to you, sir.

Oh...

I thought as we were going to be neighbors for the next few weeks, I ought to say a few words of welcome.

How very kind.

And of course I've long wanted to meet Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

It is indeed a pleasure, sir.

Thank you, but I'm Dr. John Watson.

Oh.

Come in.

This is my good friend Sherlock Holmes.

A thousand apologies, I should have realized.

Do come in Mr. Roundhay.

Very stupid of me--

How did you know my name?

You have an interest in archeology, do you not?

Why yes.

Deduce, Watson.

Come, deduce.

Um...

You've got mud on the points of your shoes, and beneath your knees, and on the fingers of your right hand...

Splendid, splendid.

Which indicates that you've knelt on the ground for a length of time.

Oh Watson, you're coming along marvelously.

You're a left-handed gardener.

You're a student of archeology.

You've published a paper over theories surrounding Neolithic burial rites.

You are the Reverend Francis Roundhay, vicar of the parish Tredannick Wollas.

Astonishing, sir.

Please, sit down.

Thank you.

But left-handed?

The hand with which you hold the trowel.

Exactly right.

Precise in every detail, but how sir? How?

Vicar, vicar vic...

The parish magazine. It's all...

The village is nearby?

Oh yes, just along the coastal path.

It's secluded, but it caters for all our needs.

I suppose is that the nearest habitation?

No, no, the Tregennis Estate is about a mile inland.

Very nice people and I'm sure they'll extend to you some fine Cornish hospitality.

However, I've imposed enough upon you for one day.

Perhaps you'd care to come and have dinner with me one evening at the vicarage.

Oh then, we should impose upon you and your family?

Oh no alas, I have no family.

I live alone except for Mr. Tregennis, who has a suite of rooms in the house.

But does he not live on the estate?

A family dispute.

His sister and two brothers live there, but he chooses to live apart.

Do you know dinner at the vicarage is a splendid idea.

We must arrange a date and a time.

Yes, well, of course, gentlemen.

Good day to you.

Good morning.

Cornish hospitality.

Weathered pitted slabs of granite.

Ancient tombs scattered throughout the lengthened breath of this peninsula.

Like the sea.

I suppose death is always with us.

Quite so.

Quite often, during those days in Cornwall, Holmes would stride out alone.

The mystery and glamour of the place with its sinister atmosphere of forgotten nations appeal to the imagination of my friend.

He spent much of his time in long walks and solitary meditation.

One morning, however, my friend's convalescence was violently interrupted.

Gentlemen, I urge you to consult the police.

Holmes is a sick man.

Yes but getting better all the time, Watson.

This is a matter of some emergency.

Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes, we can only regard it as a special Providence that you should chance to be here at this time, for in all England, you are the one man we truly need.

I tried to explain to Mr. Tregennis and Mr. Roundhay that you're in convalescence.

Yes, I'm sure they'll be very sympathetic.

Please sit down. Thank you.

The fact is, as I've explained to Dr. Watson, the most extraordinary and tragic affair has occurred here during the night.

You have my full attention.

Perhaps, I'd better say a few words first.

This is Mr. Tregennis, of whom I spoke.

Now, Mr. Tregennis spent last night in the company of his brothers, George and Owen, and his sister Brenda, at their house of Tredannick Wartha.

He left them, playing cards around the dining table in excellent health and spirits.

But on his return this morning, he discovered a truly bizarre state of affairs.

All three both alive and dead, retained upon their faces an expression of the utmost horror.

Dead?

A convulsion of terror.

It was dreadful to look upon.

Was there any sign of anyone else in the house?

Only Mrs. Porter, cook and housekeeper.

She had slept deeply and heard no sound in the night.

Is anything missing, disarranged?

Nothing, Mr. Holmes.

What could possibly frighten a young woman to death and two strong men out of their senses?

Yes, what indeed.

Well I'm sure, Holmes, that the local police would have reached some conclusions.

However, erroneous they may be.

Holmes.

Think.

Tell me about last night, Mr. Tregennis.

Well Mr. Holmes,

I supped there, as the vicar has said, and my elder brother George proposed a game of whist afterwards.

It was a quarter-past ten when I moved to go.

Who let you out?

Mrs. Potter had gone to bed, so I let myself out.

The window of the room in which they sat was closed, but the blind was not drawn down.

There was no change in door or window this morning, nor any reason to think that any stranger had been to the house.

Yet there they sat, driven clean mad with terror.

I'll never get the sight of that room out of my mind as long as I live.

Yes, the facts are most remarkable.

Mr. Tregennis, do you have any theory of your own which might account for them?

It is devilish. Devilish, Mr. Holmes.

It is not of this world.

Well, if the matter is beyond humanity, it is certainly beyond me.

I trust so, Holmes.

Now think.

Think very carefully, Mr. Tregennis, about the evening that you spent together.

Does anything stand out in your memory which might throw some light upon this tragedy?

There is nothing, Mr. Holmes.

Were they nervous people?

Did they ever show any sign of apprehension?

Not to my knowledge, Mr. Holmes.

Then there's nothing in which you can assist me.

There is one thing occurs to me.

As I sat at the table, my back was to the window, and my brother George, he being my partner at cards, was facing it.

I saw him once look out over my shoulder so I turned around and looked also.

The blind was up and the window shut, but I could just make out the bushes on the lawn, and it seemed to me for a moment that I saw something moving among them.

I couldn't even say if it was man or animal, but I just thought I saw something there.

Did you not investigate?

Well, the matter passed as unimportant.

Did you have any premonition of evil?

None that I was aware of.

How did you hear the terrible news so early this morning?

I am an early riser.

Generally take a walk before breakfast.

This morning I had hardly started when Dr. Richard overtook me in his carriage.

Mr. Tregennis.

I've just heard an urgent message from your sister's house.

What's happened?

I'm not quite sure, sir, but you'd better come with me.

She's been dead at least six hours.

No signs of v*olence.

But how?

I've never seen the like, Mr. Tregennis.

Not in all my years as a...

You all right?

I've got you.

Here.

Over here.

That's it.

There we go.

We nearly got him oh our hands as well.

Where are you going, Holmes?

Tredannick Wartha without delay.

With your permission, Mr. Holmes, I'll go on ahead.

Thank you vicar, quickly, otherwise, we'll be there before you.

Holmes, I must protest.

Save your protestations for later, Watson, much later!

I gather you were divided in some way from your family.

Oh, yes so, Mr. Holmes.

Well, the matter is past and done with.

All was forgiven and forgotten.

And we were the best of friends.

We were a family of tin-miners at Redruth, but we sold out our venture to a company, and so retired with enough to keep us.

I won't deny there was some bad feeling over the division of the money.

It stood between us for a number of years.

Nevertheless.

You decided not to leave Cornwall?

I supposed I entertained some hopes of returning home one day.

Holmes!

Holmes, stand back!

My brothers.

They're taking them to Helston.

It's a lovely house, Mr. Tregennis.

It's a very sad house.

This is the window through which you saw the shadowy form.

Approximately what distance was it from the glass?

I'd say not less than 10 feet.

With a guess, about here.

There's no sign of a forced entry.

And the window, of course, would have remained locked.

My sister made sure of that.

Even in Cornwall--

So dreadfully sorry.

It's quite all right, Mr. Holmes.

An accident.

Thank you.

Could you let Mrs. Porter know I'm back?

I should like to meet the housekeeper.

Of course.

Oh but please, try to avoid causing further distress.

Death is always distressing, Mr. Tregennis.

Awe, the chairs.

Well, they must have been moved after the police left the house.

That one here, Mr. Holmes.

One over there.

This one here.

This one, over here.

Has anything else been moved?

All is as I remember it.

You must understand there was a great deal of fuss and confusion when I arrived this morning.

Things may have been moved without thought given to their significance in a criminal investigation.

Criminal?

That is a very interesting word.

So you no longer subscribe to the theory of a supernatural explanation?

I don't know.

Where were people sitting?

I sat here facing Georgie, my brother George.

Brenda sat next to me.

Owen across from her.

Oh that's curious.

What?

I mean, from this position, the figure outside of the window must have been well over six feet.

I can only tell you what I saw, Mr. Holmes.

Awe, this is my housekeeper, Mrs. Porter.

I'd like you to meet these gentlemen, my dear.

She was so beautiful.

So beautiful.

She is still very upset.

We're all very upset, Mr. Roundhay.

Come and sit down.

I will not stay in this house one moment longer than I have to, sir.

I shall rejoin my family in St. Ives.

But you're a part of our family.

The family Tregennis is dead, sir.

Dead or as good as.

I'm still alive.

Mrs. Porter.

Excuse me now.

Mrs. Porter.

My name is Sherlock Holmes and I'd like you to tell me all that you know.

Mr. Holmes is a detective.

He's going to try and find out what happened to Brenda.

Don't you worry.

Please, leave nothing out.

I can tell you very little, Mr. Holmes.

Awe, you've been cheating.

I am not cheating.

Owen, will you tell your dearest sister to play by the rules.

Well, she's your sister too.

Huh-- You tell her.

But she's on your side.

It's rather late and I do have to get back to the vicarage.

Mortimer, you must stay here for the night.

Oh please, say you will.

Well--

Don't force him to stay if he doesn't want to, Brenda.

Oh really?

I thought we'd put an end to our squabbling.

Mortimer is just as much my brother as you and Georgie.

Don't worry, dear brother.

I know where I'm not welcome.

Why visit us at all?

You disowned us.

Or have you have forgotten?

It will be all right now, Beth, if you wish to retire.

Is Mr. Tregennis staying with us tonight?

Why?

Do you also object to my presence, Mrs. Porter?

Mortimer!

I want to know should I air your room, sir?

Sorry.

Thank you, Beth.

That'll be quite all right.

Mr. Tregennis will not be staying.

Very good, Miss Brenda.

Is it customary to have a fire in the room at this time of year?

It was a cold and damp night, Mr. Holmes.

Well, I must say I...l thought it was rather humid.

I suffer with a mild blood disorder, I feel the cold on even warm nights.

I know how you feel.

Now, Mrs. Porter, was the door to this room closed when you left this morning?

Oh certainly, sir.

Nightingale as they sing in the valley below.

As they sing...

When I recovered, I threw wide the window to let in the morning air.

Then I run down to the lane and sent a farm lad for the doctor.

And the rest I think you know, sir.

Mrs. Porter's right.

She's very beautiful.

Yes but something is missing.

Tregennis is lying about a mild blood disorder;

I'll stake my reputation on that.

Was he?

Watson. Watson.

Look at this.

That's very unusual.

It won't do! It won't do!

Three people grievously stricken by some conscious or unconscious human agency.

Now, when exactly did this event occur?

They're finished playing cards.

It was past their usual hour for bed.

The panel of the chairs had not been pulled back from the table.

Then it must have been only moments after Tregennis left the house.

Exactly.

You're conscious, of course, I've managed to obtain a clear imprint of his foot.

Yes I saw.

Having got a sample print, I could pick out his tracks among the others and follow his boots.

For the length of his stride, he returns swiftly to the vicarage.

Tregennis disappeared, then almost instantly some other person affected the card players.

How can we reconstruct that person?

But is there any evidence really, Watson that anyone did creep up to that window?

The only suggestion comes from Tregennis, who says that his brother reacted to some movement in the garden.

And how was this impression of horror conveyed?

You're Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the detective.

And you are Dr. Leon Sterndale, the great lion-hunter and famous African explorer.

Have you made any progress?

Some.

The county police are utterly at fault.

Tell me what you know about the fate of the Tregennis family.

What is your interest, Dr. Sterndale?

My claim to be taken into your confidence is that during my many residences here, I have come to know this family of Tregennis very well.

Indeed upon my Cornish mother's side, I may call them cousins.

So, their strange fate has naturally been a great shock to me.

Do you know of anything that could help us in our inquiry?

Nothing at all.

I may tell you that I had got as far as Plymouth upon my way to Africa when news reached me.

I came straight back here to help in any way I can.

Did you lose your boat?

I will take the next.

Dear me, that is friendship indeed.

I tell you they were relatives.

Did your baggage go on with the boat?

Some of it, but most of it remained in the hotel.

Well, surely, this event could not have found its way into the Plymouth morning papers.

No, sir.

I received a telegram.

From whom?

You are very inquisitive, Mr. Holmes.

It is my business.

The vicar, Mr. Roundhay sent it, recalling me to Tredannick Wollas.

I see.

May I ask if your suspicions point in any particular direction?

Well, I can hardly answer that.

Then, I'm wasting my time.

Oh, god...

To work the brain without sufficient material is like racing an engine; it cracks itself to pieces.

Wait for me at the cottage.

Where are you going?

Cheer up, Watson!

Sea air, sunshine, patience, all will be revealed.

Mr. Holmes! Mr. Holmes.

Mr. Holmes.

Mr. Holmes, we are devil-ridden, Mr. Holmes.

Watson!

My poor parish is devil-ridden!

This man is...

What has happened?

Dead about three hours, I'd say.

Same symptoms exactly as Brenda Tregennis.

Limbs convulsed, fingers contorted as though he d*ed from a very paroxysm of fear.

That it should happen under my roof.

Has his bed been slept in?


Oh yes, most definitely.

Who opened this window?

My...my housekeeper, she was the first into the room this morning.

Where is she now?

Oh she's taken to her bed with a severe headache, no doubt greatly affected by the shock.

I am most terribly sorry to inconvenience you in this way.

I know you both came to these parts to rest but...

It isn't easy with Holmes around.

He likes nothing better than to sink his teeth into a problem of this sort.

But two deaths, Dr. Watson, in the space of two days.

This is the work of the devil, make no mistake.

Put your faith in the known and tangible, Mr. Roundhay.

I trust nothing has been touched, sir?

No, everything's exactly as it was.

All right, then.

I'll need a statement from you and your housekeeper.

Master, I'm afraid she's still rather ill.

Check upstairs.

Ah. Excise me.

Who are these gentlemen?

Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson from London.

I've heard of you, Mr. Holmes.

I'd appreciate it if you would leave this inquiry to the official police.

As you wish.

I do, sir.

Mr. Roundhay,

would you direct the inspector's attention towards the window upstairs and the lamp on the table?

Each is suggestive.

Together they are almost conclusive.

Watson?

Good afternoon.

Good luck.

What on earth are you doing?

An experiment to test a theory.

Isn't that the lamp that was in Tregennis' room?

Yes and no.

I see you bought an identical one.

I purchased it from a delightful little shop in the village.

That's where you've been all afternoon.

There is a single point of resemblance in the reports that we've heard.

Now, this concerns of the effect on the atmosphere of the room upon those who first entered it.

First, Dr. Richards, then Mrs. Porter.

And Roundhay's housekeeper was taken ill this morning.

In each case, there is a combustion going on the room.

In the first case, a fire.

In the second, a lamp.

Now, the fire perhaps was necessary, but the lamp was lit when it was already broad daylight.

A comparison of the oil consumed in this and Tregennis' lamp proves that point.

But why?

Something was b*rned producing an atmosphere causing a strange toxic affect.

In the first instance, that of the Tregennis family, a substance was placed in the fire and the fire would carry the fumes, to some extent, up the chimney.

Only Brenda Tregennis who was closest to the fire was k*lled.

Her brothers were exhibiting that lunacy, which is evidently the first effect of the drug.

The other case, of course, the result was complete.

So, it's a poison, which works by combustion?

Yeah.

Now, the obvious place to look was the smoke-guard of the lamp in Tregennis' room.

There, sure enough, I perceived a number of flaky ashes and around the edges a fringe of brownish powder, which had not yet been consumed.

Half of this I took, the other half I left for the police.

We will see if we can reproduce the same effects with our own lamp.

What?!

Oh no, Holmes, that's insane.

I cannot force you to stay, but I mean to have the answer.

Of course, I shall stay.

I thought I knew my Watson.

Would you open the door, please?

Now, would you like to just sit there?

Are you ready?

You must stay clear Mr. Holmes or be trampled underfoot.

Holmes!

Holmes!

Holmes!

Holmes!

Holmes!

Holmes!

Holmes, can you hear me?

For God's sake, can you hear me?

John!

Thank God you're all right.

That was a stupid and dangerous thing to do.

We could have been k*lled.

It was an unjustifiable experiment even for myself, doubly so for a friend.

But really I'm extremely sorry.

All the evidence points to Tregennis being the criminal in the first tragedy and victim in the second.

Yes, if anyone else would have come in, the family would have certainly risen from the table.

Then Tregennis' own death was su1c1de?

That will be Dr. Leon Sterndale.

Would you let him in, Watson?

Thank you.

Please come in, Dr. Sterndale.

Seems you're expected.

I had your note about an hour ago.

But let me state directly, I don't take kindly to being summoned by anybody.

I thought it better to discuss the matter here.

No risk of eavesdropping.

I fail to see, sir, what you can have to speak about which "affects me personally in the most intimate fashion.” The k*lling of Mortimer Tregennis.

I have lived so long among savages and beyond the law that I've got into the way of being a law unto myself.

You would do well, Mr. Holmes, to remember that, for I have no desire to do you any injury.

Nor I you, Dr. Sterndale.

But surely the clearest proof of it is that, knowing what I know, that I have sent for you and not for the police.

If this is a bluff upon your part, sir, you have chosen the wrong man for your experiment.

No, no, no the bluff is upon your side not upon mine.

Now, I will tell you the facts upon which my conclusions are based.

Of your return from Plymouth, allowing much of your property to go out to Africa, I shall say nothing except that it informed me was that you were one of the factors, which had to be taken into account in the reconstructing of this drama.

This telegram from the hotel confirms what you told me.

Now, when we last met, you asked me whom I suspected and I refused to answer you.

Then you departed, but you didn't go home, oh no, Dr. Sterndale.

You went to the vicarage and you waited there for some time.

How do you know that?

I followed you.

I saw no one.

That is what you may expect to see when I follow you.

You spent a restless night.

You made certain plans, and then in the early hours, you proceeded to put them into action.

You returned to the vicarage, collected some distinctive red gravel from the cliff path.

The house by now was in daylight, but the inhabitants were not stirring.

You threw some of the red gravel up at the window of the lodger, Tregennis.

Sterndale.

I must speak with you urgently.

This hour?

The doors are locked.

The housekeeper has the keys.

It is of the utmost importance!

You entered through the sitting room window.

You had an interview, a short one, and you walked up and down the room.

You withdrew as you had come.

You were wearing the same pair of studded walking shoes, which at the present moment are upon your feet, and Mortimer Tregennis was dead.

Ah!

The ring you gave Brenda Tregennis.

Yes.

Yes.

Brenda Tregennis.

For years, I loved her.

For years, she loved me.

There is the secret of the Cornish seclusion, which people so marveled at.

It brought me close to the one person on this earth who was dear to me.

I couldn't marry her, for I had a wife who left me but whom, by the deplorable laws of England, I could not divorce.

For years, Brenda waited.

For years, I waited.

And this was what we waited for.

Roundhay knew.

He was in our confidence, hence, his telegram to me at Plymouth.

What was my baggage or Africa to me when I learned that such a fate had befallen my darling?

There you have the missing clue to my actions, Mr. Holmes.

I understand that you, sir, are a doctor of medicine?

Have you ever heard of 'Radix pedis diaboli'?

Devil's foot root.

No, I can't say that I have.

No.

Well there's no reflection upon your professional knowledge.

For I believe that, save for one sample in a laboratory in Buda, there is no other specimen in Europe.

It is used as an ordeal poison by the medicine men in certain districts of West Africa and it is kept as a secret by them.

You already know so much, Mr. Holmes; it is clearly to my interest that you should know all.

I have already explained the relationship in which I stood to the Tregennis family.

There had been a quarrel about money, which estranged this man Mortimer, a sly, subtle, scheming man, but for Brenda's sake, I was friendly with her brother.

Then one day, a few weeks ago, he came to my cottage and I showed him some of my African curiosities.

Among other things, I exhibited the devil's foot.

Poison, you say?

Fascinating.

You wouldn't think so if you were to try it.

The smallest amount could be fatal.

In this powder form, it reacts instantaneously when b*rned.

It stimulates those brain centers, which control the emotion of fear.

Madness or death is the fate of the unfortunate native who is subjected to the ordeal by the priest of his tribe.

Can it be detected?

Not by European science.

A few days later, my cottage was broken into, but since nothing seemed to have been taken, I gave the matter no heed until Mr. Roundhay's telegram arrived at Plymouth.

This villain, Mortimer, had thought that I would be at sea before news reached me, and that I should be lost for years in Africa.

But of course, I returned immediately and I could not hear the details without being assured that it was my poison, which had been used, and that Mortimer Tregennis himself was the m*rder*r.

My soul cried out for revenge.

You m*rder*d her!

For money, you m*rder*d your own sister.

You can't prove that.

No jury in the land will believe you.

I'm my own jury, Mr. Tregennis.

Judge, jury, and executioner.

No...no...

1 lit the lamp.

I put the powder upon it.

In five minutes, he d*ed.

My God! How he d*ed!

But my heart was flint,

for he endured nothing which my innocent darling had not suffered before him.

You can take what steps you like, Mr. Holmes.

But there can be no man living who fears death less than I do now.

What were your plans?

I was intending to bury myself in Central Africa.

My work there is but half done.

Go and do the other half.

1, for one, am not prepared to stop you.

God bless you, both of you.

Not for the first time, Holmes, you presume to take the law into your own hands.

I have never loved, but if I did, and if the woman I had loved had met with such an end, I might act even as our lawless lion-hunter has done.

Wouldn't you?

Yes, I suppose so, but that's not the point.

The point is why should I do the work of the official police?

And as you're very fond of telling me, I'm on holiday!
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