Memoirs Of Sherlock Holmes, The (1994)

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Memoirs Of Sherlock Holmes, The (1994)

Post by bunniefuu »

You promised!

I promised you nothing!

Jamais!

Never!

I am leaving for Rome.

Please, please come with me.

I have given and I have no more to give.

Why, why do you treat me like this!

No!

Go, go!

go!

Heartless...

fiend!

It was at that moment, that love d*ed and hate was born.

Violet...

Ah, Watson, well timed.

Shake hands with Steve Dixie, the pugilist, who might have a future in his profession, if he didn't mix with bad company.

What on earth's been happening here?

Him, meddling in affairs what don't concern 'im.

Now, I warned 'im and he got cocky...

No, keep talking, keep talking!

It's fine.

Mmm.

It's fine, isn't it?

Well, it won't be so damn fine if I have to thump you around a bit.

Stop it, Watson, Stop it!

Let us hear who has sent him on this belligerent errand.

Sit down, Dixie.

Talk to me.

Ah, thank you.

Now tell me what this is all about.

I'm telling' you nothin', Mr. Holmes.

Except you keep away from Harrow.

I haven't been to Harrow in months.

You know what I'm talking' about, I'm warning' you!

Keep away!

On the matter of the k*lling of Perkins outside the Holborn bar...

I had nothin' to do with that!

I was training', yeah, at the Bull Ring in Birmingham when that boy got done.

You'll tell that to the Magistrate.

Mrs. Hudson!

Look, er, no hard feelings eh, Mr. Holmes.

Mrs. Hudson.

There's been a slight disturbance.

I er, I just done what I was told.

My regards to Barney Stockdale.

You are responsible for this mess.

Go on, down those stairs with you at once.

Oh, he's a harmless enough fellow and easily cowed as you see.

One of the Spencer John g*ng.

Assaults, intimidation and the like.

Why would they want to intimidate you?

And who's Barney Stockdale.

His immediate principal.

Oh, who's paying Barney Stockdale, I wonder?

"The Three Gables, Harrow Weald"?

He's broken our window!

"Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes," "I have had a succession of strange incidents occur to me" "in connection with my house," ”and I should much value your advice. ” You would find me at home any time tomorrow.

"I believe that my late husband, Mortimer Maberley" "was one of your early clients." "Yours faithfully," "Mary Maberley." This comic interlude with Steve Dixie convinces me there must be something in it.

Let us wire her and go out there at once.

I knew your husband well, madam, but it was some years ago.

Well, it is some years since he was with us, the dear man.

Oh, will you try some of this?

I baked it myself.

That's Douglas Maberley?

Yes.

I knew him slightly.

Ah, he's a splendid fellow.

Plays rugby for my old club, Blackheath.

I am his grandmother.

I was his grandmother.

He d*ed a month ago.

d*ed?

You hadn't heard?

No, no, It was a sad ending.

Oh, I am so sorry...

He seemed so full of life and energy, It, it's hard to connect...

He lived too intensely.

It was the ruin of him.

But, was it an accident?

I mean, I mean the last thing I heard, he, he'd been appointed attache to our Embassy in Rome.

He d*ed in this house.

Of pneumonia, they say.

Brought on by a ruptured spleen.

But it's not to talk of my grandson that I asked you here.

Well, we are here, please.

To give you service.

Thank you.

Well, I have been in this house for over a year now, leading a retired life.

Three days ago, I had a call from a house agent.

The money is no object, madam.

But there's several empty houses round here on the market.

No, This.

My client's heart is set on this one.

Will you name your price?

I suggested five hundred pounds more than I gave for it, but he said that his client...

My client desires to buy the furniture as well.

All of it?

Everything.

But some of it's very good.

Just state your price Mrs. Maberley.

So I did.

A good round sum and he agreed at once.

You see, I always wanted to travel, around the World if I could.

It's a legacy left to me by my dear Mortimer, though alas we never really achieved it.

The man returned the next day with everything drawn up?

Yesterday.

Luckily, I showed it to Mr. Sutro, my lawyer.

This is very strange.

Are you aware that you cannot take anything out of the house.

Not even your own personal possessions?

Not my clothes?

My jewelery?

Anything- When the man returned to the house, you pointed this out.

Yes.

He said I might take some personal effects.

But that nothing should go out of this house unchecked.

My client is very liberal.

But has fads, Madam, and a way of doing things.

I'm afraid it must be everything, or nothing for my client.

Then it must be nothing.

Here it is.

"Haines Johnson, Auctioneer Valuer. No address." I should doubt we shall find him in the directory.

Honest men don't conceal their place of business.

Just a little wheezy for eavesdropping.

I, I just came in to find out if the visitors was staying' for lunch, Madam.

Don't force me to use this.

Mrs. Maberley, did you mention to anyone that you were going to consult me?

I did not, Mr. Holmes.

- Who posted the letter?

- Susan did.

Susan, aah.

To whom did you send your message?

I sent no message.

Tell me.

Susan!

I remember now.

I saw you speaking to someone over the hedge.

That was my own business, Madam.

Barney Stockdale.

Fine chance that'd be.

I don't even know the man.

It is worth ten pounds to you if you tell me who is at the back of this.

Someone who could lay down a thousand pounds for every ten you've got in the world.

Is he a rich man?

You smiled, a rich woman.

Tell the name, and earn the money.

I'll see you in hell first.

I'll send for my box tomorrow...

Madam.

This g*ng means business.

But what can they possibly want?

Mrs. Maberley.

You say you've been in this house for a year.

Nearly two.

So, for nearly two years, no one has taken any particular interest in the house, and yet, suddenly within three or four days, urgent demands are made for it, and its contents.

Something new must have been brought into the house.

No, I haven't bought anything new for a year.

This Susan.

How long has she been with you?

Almost three weeks.

Since your grandson's death?

Oh, a week after.

She presented herself.

I mean, I took her in, I suppose, without proper reference.

Do you know, this cake is delicious.

Please, now will you tell us about the circumstances of your- Grandson's return from Italy.

My gallant boy...

you may remember him as debonair and splendid, Dr. Watson.

You didn't see the morose and brooding creature he became.

His heart was broken.

In a single month, I Watched him turn into a worn-out cynical man.

A woman?

He wouldn't speak of it...

He was afraid of upsetting his grand mama, he said.

And so you never learnt her name?

It might be advisable for someone to stay with you tonight. Watson?

Yes, of course.

Oh, no.

I really couldn't ask such a thing.

No, no, no, no.

Willingly.

Thank you Mrs. Maberley.

I shall be back before dark.

Don't concern yourself.

It might be useful to find this erm..., what's she called, Violet?

He may have confided something to her that he didn't tell his grandmother, in his last hours?

Holmes?

Good afternoon, Mr. Dixie.

The old lady and the house are both under my protection.

And don't you forget it.

Make sure they're gone.

Bring your revolver tonight.

"D" - Douglas Maberley.

Splendid, debonair, to morose cynical...

Strong words.

Oh, no.

No.

Oh!

Who is this lady with no eyes.

Our course lies there.

It must be something she doesn't know she has.

And probably wouldn't tell us, even if she did know.

This is a case for Langdale Pike.

That reptile?

Nonsense.

Don't talk rubbish.

He's a gossip, of course.

He might identify this rich woman.

Sad, he was brilliant at university.

And yet, I've always felt that underneath that veneer, that he was totally isolated, like me.

You see that, that young girl there, under the tree, with the occasional hat.

What do you make of her?

She is looking for her dog.

What?

No, no...

surely...

A Saluki with a turquoise collar perhaps.

She is a stranger in the park.

So is the dog.

There it is now.

How did you know that?

Her boots are country boots but not so robust as to suggest a rough terrain.

Wiltshire, Gloucestershire perhaps.

Yes, yes, yes, but...

Don't you find her attractive?

Alright.

Why a Saluki?

Owners are meant to look like their dogs, they say.

Wouldn't you say Saluki?

Remarkable.

She is, in point of fact, Lady Geraldine Windridge...

The Close, Marlborough, Wiltshire.

And now, my clear Holmes, what is it you really want from me?

The late Douglas Maberley...

Poor boy.

And what a waste.

He was involved with a lady.

A well-placed rich lady.

Known to you?

Have you something to trade?

Tittle for tattle?

Langdale...

I'm in a hurry.

Thank you.

Her name is Isadora Klein.

Ah, yes.

Widow of the German sugar king.

Quite a celebrated beauty.

The celebrated beauty.

She's engaged to be married to the youthful Duke of Lomond.

What else did Pike tell you?

Anything about her and Maberley?

Nothing.

I wonder, Holmes.

Do you think it could be about some- compromising letters she wants retrieving?

I mean, particularly in view of her forthcoming marriage?

You mean love letters?

No, no, it's deeper than that.

Listen, I demand that you spend a sleepless night at The Three Gables.

With that revolver at hand.

And how will you be spending the evening?

Pursuing the matter from another angle.

Examining the principle.

So, what is it you have to tell me, Miguel?

That stupid woman, Susan, has left the Maberley house.

Was forced to leave, she claims.

By Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

He has refused our request to avoid Harrow.

Sherlock Holmes.

Then you did not "request" him hard enough.

Well, so Mr. Sherlock Holmes is on the case.

He paid a visit to the old lady, but left empty handed, have no fear.

We are losing time, Miguel.

We must act tonight.

Arrange it.

This Mr. Sherlock Holmes intrigues me.

Is he clever?

He has a reputation.

For solving crimes, yes.

But for women?

You still owe me a favour dear boy.

Remember?

I shan't destroy the paper until you've returned the compliment.

Remember.

Tittle for Tattle.

Look at you.

I mean what sort of...

Oh, of course, we are above the bourgeois epatant of costume.

The revels have begun.

Life is mystery enough without your pale conundrums?

Oh, so many people, so little purpose.

That's God's conundrum.

If only we mortals could answer that...

Then your life would have no meaning.

Ahh cruel, cruel, cruel, but so true.

I have always said that if our late mutual friend, Charles Augustus Milverton was the bad angel, I am the good angel.

I suppress much, much more than I expose.

What sort of world would it be, if I didn't?

Which one is she?

Over there, my dear fellow.

You could hardly mistake her, with young Lomond.

La belle dame sans merci.

Douglas Maberley.

And others.

All those, all those, all those.

Douglas, was one of the most striking young men in London...

He gave all and expected all.

Alas!

It was she who ended it.

Brutally.

Marriage with a penniless diplomat of little breeding was not in the widow's plans.

Don't you read my column?

And yet he seems, even in death, to have some hold over her.

What is it?

Do what you like with the information I gave you, but have no truck with her.

She...

Look, the sight of her set my hairs on end.

She is deadly.

And now she has a great ducal line within her grasp.

And look at them.

She is old enough to be his...

Ah, the anguished mother.

I helped her husband once.

What is your interest in her now?

Douglas is history, he's dust, dust!

Aren't we all, aren't we all.

Even you.

Not me, dear boy.

Not me!

I withstand the blasts of time!

Can't you see?

Good evening.

I was on my way to India, Governess to a family, when I met my dear Mortimer.

He was going the other way.

Aah, this is the hat he was wearing, over sixty years ago.

But you, you never got to India?

No.

I turned back and went with him.

Oh, the fuss!

You see, he was a penniless salesman at the time.

Erm..., Gripe water, you know, things for babies' tummies.

But in his heart and soul there was adventure.

Ah, the places we planned to visit, all over the world...

We never left Harrow.

Is er, is this Mortimer, wi, wi... with Douglas?

Oh, good Heavens, have I kept that?

How wonderful.

Oh.

They doted on each other.

They were alike in so many ways.

Two peas in a pod.

Er, what, happened to his, his mother and father?

Oh, my son and his wife were k*lled in a climbing accident in Snowdonia, when Douglas was only two years old.

We brought him up as our own, you see.

This case in Harrow?

It concerns your future daughter-in-law, and a late acquaintance of hers.

The facts do her no credit.

Something from her past.

I knew it.

Tell me at once.

I need a little time.

The wedding which I deplore, is almost upon us.

My golden boy.

He is besotted with this woman.

If you know something against her, pray God let the scandal break, now.

Oh, no, no, no.

I think a scandal can be avoided.

Is there anything you wish me to do?

Granting me this interview was all that I needed.

Mrs. Klein will not have been pleased to see me here.

Mrs. Klein.

Harry would be turning in his grave.

Leave all to me, please.

Mrs. Maberley?

Oh, leave me.

Go after them!

They've got it!

Go!

Please, hurry.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, hurry.

Please.

Oh!

Steve Dixie.

Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes wake up!

It's bad news, I'm afraid.

Wake-up, Mr. Holmes.


Mr. Holmes.

It, it's bad news, Mr. Holmes.

It's the doctor.

He, he's been brutally att*cked in Harrow.

Oh, no, no, he is alive.

He wired, or, or rather the lawyer did, to say I was to find you if you weren't in, and you're to get there as soon as possible.

And I'd got him a nice piece of mackerel for his tea.

Dora.

Where is Dr. Watson?

He's upstairs, sir.

How is he?

I don't know, sir.

He had a good breakfast.

Your mistress?

She's resting', sir.

She weren't badly hurt, but she's had a nasty shock, we all have.

Good Lord, what have you run into?

What happened?

Madam says she wants to see you, as soon as you arrive Mr. Holmes, sir.

Holmes, she is in a very frail condition.

Physician, heal thyself.

Mr. Holmes...

how good of you.

How are you feeling?

I'm alive.

Thanks to your brave friend, Doctor Watson.

Did he get it back from them?

Get what?

Oh, of course, you wouldn't know, I don't...

Mr. Holmes.

I owe you an apology.

I, I prayed it would have no bearing, but it it does...

Oh, so stupid of me...

It's the reason for everything.

Douglas was writing a book.

He said it would explain it all.

He started it in Rome.

And later, when they brought him back here, he, he sat for hours in that draughty little summer house, writing...

sometimes in the most dreadful weather.

And later, when he could no longer leave his room, he still struggled with it.

Two copies.

One he gave to Violet...

and told her to deliver it to someone, I, I, don't know who.

He had sworn her to secrecy and she kept her promise.

The other copy...

He urged me with almost with his dying breath, to send to his publisher.

I should have done so, but...

On the night of his funeral, and missing him so much, I, I read it through.

I knew at once what it was...

His life...

That woman...

I didn't even know her name.

The scandal it would cause!

And I, I shut it out of my mind, locked it away until last night when Dr.

Watson reminded me...

And they were waiting for you.

Yes, and they snatched it from me, as I was taking it up to him...

All but this.

I tore it from the brute.

Where is it?

Where is it?

Miguel!

Miguel!

The page?

Where is the last page?

He has it.

Oh, I know he has it!

One page, Carina.

Not even Sherlock Holmes could...

Burn it!

Don't talk!

Burn it!

”Face bled and his stomach b*rned from the savage blows. ” "But it was nothing" "to the bleeding of his heart." "When he saw that lovely face," "the face for which he had been prepared to sacrifice his life for..." "She smiled, yes, by Heaven.

She smiled," "like the heartless fiend she was." "It was at that moment that love d*ed," "and hate was born." "If it is not for your embrace, my lady," "then it shall be for your undoing and my complete revenge." "My... complete revenge." The "he" becomes "my".

Yes.

The writer imagines himself the hero.

Two copies.

One to Mrs. Klein.

And this for publication.

All of London would recognise the wolf and the lamb.

Sweet revenge.

Read me that first sentence again.

"Face bled and his stomach b*rned from the savage blows" The cause of death!

Pneumonia, from a ruptured spleen, the old woman said.

Good heavens.

Ruptured from a kick.

That's m*rder.

We could never prove it.

I'm leaving for Cricklewood.

Steve.

Grosvenor Square, five months ago.

That weren't me, Mr. Holmes.

You can't put that on me.

It doesn't matter whose boot k*lled Douglas Maberley.

You're all guilty.

Ah, Susan!

Susan.

Guarding the coup, while your husband is in prison?

Watson, you remember Mrs. Barney Stockdale.

Oh, yes.

Take care Holmes.

You get out of 'ere.

That woman will put you behind bars for what you did last night.

And her employer, Mrs. Klein of Grosvenor Square, will see you all hanged for m*rder, unless...

you do what I tell you, when I tell you.

Remember Perkins of Holborn?

Watson.

Let me look at you.

What do you see?

I see...

the woman I adore.

I am ready now.

No, stay here.

She is not Moriarty.

She is a woman.

That hand needs redressing.

Just remember, Holmes.

The female can be more deadly than the male.

Valuer and Auctioneer, my foot.

Ah.

Madam.

You again, Holmes.

If you have something to say to my bride, speak out, before I kick you out.

No.

I have been expecting Mr. Holmes.

Leave us.

Huh.

I have no intention of leaving you with this...

Go, James.

Go!

I am only surprised it took you so long.

I am surprised that you thought bullies could frighten me.

No man would take up my profession, if danger did not attract him.

You are a gentleman.

I will treat you as my friend.

I cannot promise to reciprocate.

No doubt it was foolish to thr*aten such a brave man as yourself.

No, what was really foolish of an intelligent woman like you, is to place yourself in the power of a- band of rascals who could blackmail or give you away.

Hmm.

No, no.

I am not so simple.

None of them have the least idea who their employer is.

Not Barney Stockdale and his wife?

They are good hounds who run silent.

And are prepared to go to prison for you.

They take what comes.

That's what they are paid for.

And er, Mr. Haines Johnson.

Oh, that surely is not his name.

What is he paid for?

Miguel?

He is like a brother to me.

As for the others they work, and I do not appear in the matter.

Unless I bring you into it.

But you are a gentleman, Mr. Holmes.

You respect a woman's secret?

Huh, is m*rder a woman's secret?

m*rder?

"My face bled, my stomach b*rned" "from the savage blows, but it was nothing to the bleeding of my heart." Page two four five.

And there's a witness, Mrs.Klein.

The prize fighter, Steve Dixie, who will testify against you.

And all this...

you told my future mother-in-law?

What I told the Dowager is of no importance, since she cannot prevent your marriage to her son.

No, she cannot.

And you believe that you can?

Oh, yes.

Why should you wish to?

Is it because I am a foreigner?

Are you an English snob, Mr. Holmes?

Let me tell you, my people have been leaders in Pernambuco for generations.

Madame.

You are the bastard child of a gypsy in Andalusia.

Hijo de puta!

Who told you?

It is my trade.

Now you must give me the manuscript.

No.

No, no, no!

You wish for ashes in a paper bag?

You are hard to me.

Look at it with my eyes.

A life's ambition about to be ruined.

The original sin was yours.

Yes, I know, Douglas.

Yes, I did love him, truly.

Yes, yes.

I did for a while, in my fashion.

But he wanted marriage, nothing less would serve him and it did not fit with my plans.

And so you hired ruffians to b*at him until he was nearly dead, under your window.

Is that the act of a lady?

Yes, it is true.

Barney and the boys drove him away, perhaps a little too roughly.

But What did he do then?

He wrote a book, a vicious, personal att*ck.

Was that the act of a gentleman?

You knew this publisher had not received it.

Yes.

So it had to be in the house of his grandmother.

As long as that book existed, there was no safety for me.

I wanted to do this thing honestly.

I offered any price she cared to ask, but she wouldn't take it.

Are we to be blamed for protecting ourselves?

One thing intrigues me.

Why a woman as lovely as you, who wields such power over men, needs the protection of anyone?

Nature doesn't give a damn for any of us.

I love James, and I want him.

He represents all I have ever desired, and my one chance of a kind of security which I call happiness.

And you would take it away from me?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Because you are a destroyer of men.

Oh, yes.

You destroyed Douglas Maberley.

And very nearly my friend, John Watson, with a ruthless disregard for anything but your own selfish interest.

Why have I failed with you?

I require only this.

That I read of the breaking of your engagement to the Duke of Lomond, by Thursday morning.

And if I refuse?

Scotland Yard.

A full investigation, with witnesses.

I am at your mercy.

Hazme Io peor.

Do your worst.

Oh, how much does it cost to go round the world in first class style?

Let me see, yes.

You will send a cheque for £5,000 to Mrs. Maberley.

You owe her a little change of that.

Goodbye, Mrs. Klein.

I have no doubt I shall see you again one day...

on the arm of a king.

"And, therefore, The celebrated beauty, Mrs. Klein" "has departed for Spain." "Her people have been leaders in Pernambuco for generations." Well, it's a dignified report, I wonder what others would have made of it.

You let her off the hook, Holmes.

Compounding a felony, you mean?

m*rder.

It would have been impossible to prove.

Mrs. Klein has learnt that she can't play with edged tools forever without cutting those- aging hands of hers.

Time is not on her side.

Shall we?
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