02x06 - The Final Problem

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When I returned to Baker Street from a short holiday in the spring of 1891, I had seen little of Holmes for some time.

I saw in the papers that he had been engaged by the French government upon a matter of supreme importance but I could hardly foresee that it would have so violent a consequence.

It lies with me now to tell for the first time what took place between Mr.

Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarity in that fateful year.

Ah, Mrs. Hudson has Mr. Holmes returned?

Oh, he has indeed.

He came in early.

Must have been before 7:00.

"Morning Mrs. Hudson" he says,
"Have you anything nice for my breakfast?" As if he hadn't been away for four months.

You could have knocked me down with a feather.

And he's gone out again I take it?

Yes, yes he had his breakfast and then he went out again just after his visitor left.

Visitor?

An elderly gentleman.

They had words.

I didn't like the look of him, not at all I didn't.

He had a face like, like the wrath of God or should I say the devil.

Indeed.

Should we open a bottle of the best claret to celebrate Mr. Holmes' return?

Why not?

Very good.

Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.

I learned later that Holmes had survived three attempts on his life that very day.

But as I waited for him to reappear Baker Street looked to me as safe and secure as ever.

Holmes you...

Wait, wait.

What is it?

Air g*ns, a rather special air g*n in fact.

Watson would you have any objection to drawing the blinds casually as if you were alone in this room?

Watson I think you know me well enough to understand that I am by no means a nervous man.

But it is stupidity rather than courage to refuse to recognize danger when it is close upon you.

Watson, might I have a match?

Holmes, you're hurt.

Scratches, nothing, nothing to signify.

You don't look well Holmes.

Well I have been using myself rather too freely.

I have been somewhat pressed of late.

How pressed?

Well as I am unable to leave this room until after dark and then most likely on the way that I came.

We do have some time on our hands.

Also I owe you an explanation for my unceremonious departure the last time that we met.

I'll take some notes if I may?

Oh, by all means.

This case...

This case, it is unique in the annuals of crime.

You will recall that it was a cold morning early in the year when I last left Baker Street.

I had no idea where I was going or who my client was.

All I knew was that it was important and abroad.

My destination was the Musée du Louvre in Paris and my client none less than the French government.

Surely this Palais du Louvre is near to the very heart of France.

It was here that the great Musele held court and here that Napoleon Bonaparte was married to the Archduchess Madam Marie Louise of Austria.

Indeed it is a history lesson in stone.

And now this gallery contains our finest paintings.

Gentlemen, shall we come to the point?

I presume the Mona Lisa has been stolen.

When I see two hooks and the place where the Mona Lisa used to hang and then this talk of... and scandal.

Yes, now I begin to understand the delicacy of the matter.

The Louvre is closed on Mondays for maintenance.

The fact that the Mona Lisa was not hanging in her usual place was no doubt due to the fact that she was in the photographic studio.

It was only later in the day that a workman found the frame in a little store room under the salon care.

We put the glass over the painting only a month ago.

We feared an acid att*ck, there was such a one in Florence recently.

How very fortunate.

Pardon?

Two good thumb prints.

Many artists come here to make copies of the paintings.

This one seems well done.

Yes, that artist is particularly clever and makes a good living from his copying.

I should like to meet him sometime.

To make a bad copy is very easy but a good one.

It takes years of practice.

For instance Da Vinci used Italian popular wood to paint on.

It is very difficult to find.

To match the original color, nearly impossible.

It is, uh, full mature, the smooth blended tones, very subtle and his brushwork is left-handed.

The cr*ck work, this fine network of cracks, left, ah.

That is the most difficult to achieve of all.

And you can achieve it?

How?

That is my secret.

It seems to me that this is something near to a legitimate forgery.

No, no, no because the copies must never be the same size as the original.

And, and who would buy one of my copies as the original when the real Mona Lisa is in the Louvre.

But if by chance the Mona Lisa is no longer in the Louvre?

But of course you are joking, Monsieur.

Happily the French police are well ahead of the British when it comes to finger prints.

The great Bertillon himself was kind enough to refer to my little pamphlet on the subject as his bible.

As I suspected, our man had been involved in petty crime in the past, a Spaniard named Mendosa.

There, there is your thief.

Not a pleasant specimen.

Mr. Holmes, France owes you a great debt.

We have not got the man and more important, the painting.

But he must be arrested immediately.

He may have already sold it.

No, no, gentlemen it is my belief that the painting is still in Mendosa's keeping.

He is only a pawn in a much bigger game.

This robbery has been carefully planned over months, even years by a master criminal.

But what professional criminal would want to own the Mona Lisa?

That is madness.

He can't sell it.

I believe the master criminal is not interested in the original, if he can pass off the forgeries as originals for the same price, Gentlemen.

We must alarm Mendosa, get him on the move so he leads us to the center of the web.

But how?

First we must announce to the world that the painting has been stolen.

Oh, but that would create a great scandal both myself and the director of...

Minister, please if I may explain.

It would be announced that owing to the brilliant and tireless efforts of yourself and the director, that the criminal is about to be arrested.

Mr. Holmes, we must arrest him now.

No.

Now!

Holmes, I understand that the recovery of the original would make it impossible for the thieves to sell any copies however excellent those copies were, but did you have any clue to the identity of the mastermind behind the whole scheme?

I was satisfied that I had recognized one of Professor Moriarity's agents.

Moriarity?

Notice the subtle modeling of the features, beautiful hands, mood, that smile.

As Walter Payton described her, the head upon which all the ends of the world are common.

The eyelids are a little weary.

No one else has ever had the genius to paint this masterpiece except Da Vinci.

But if you look at the paintwork sir.

Leonard's signature at large, the brush work- mano sinistra, the bloom, the sfumato technique.

Will you excuse me?

I would say without hesitation that the general opinion of the art world is that this is the greatest portrait ever painted.

I very much regret to have to tell you sir that this painting is no longer for sale.

I don't understand Professor.

I mean, the price maybe?

Well now look, I'll reconsider.

I'll give you a cool four million and how's that?

I'm sorry Mr.

Walker.

The painting is no longer for sale.

Hey, What you guys up to?

Take your hands off me you nick!

Thanks for nothing.

That wretched Holmes has recovered the original.

These are worthless.

Destroy them, burn them.

Do it yourself and let no one else see you.

Yes, Professor Moriarity.

I must congratulate you, Holmes.

Such an honor and so well deserved.

There was no great problem.

The case practically solved itself.

I hear you had a visitor this morning.

I had not been back in Baker Street more than half an hour when...

But you cannot go up there sir!

You have less frontal development than I should have expected.

It's a dangerous habit, a finger loaded firearms in the pocket of one's dressing gown.

You evidentially don't know me.

On the contrary, I think it's fairly evident that I do.

I can spare you five minutes if you have anything to say.

All that I have to say has already crossed your mind.

And possibly my answer has already crossed yours.

You stand fast?

Absolutely.

You frustrated me in the affair of the French gold.

So it was you behind the Red Headed League.

A very ingenious and welcome tried idea.

High praise from you.

You crossed my path first on the 4th of January.

By the middle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you and at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans.

And now with this last business in France you have placed me in such a position by your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty.

The situation is becoming an impossible one.

Have you any suggestion to make?

You must drop it Mr. Holmes.

You really must, you know.

And what if I refuse?

I'm quite sure that a man of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair.

It is necessary that you should withdraw.

You have worked things in such a fashion that we have only one resource left.

It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you grappled with this matter.

But I say unaffectedly that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take an extreme measure.

Oh, you smile sir.

But it really would, I do assure you.

Danger is part of my trade.

This is not danger.

It is inevitable destruction.

You stand in the way not merely of an individual but of a mighty organization, the full extent of which even you with all your cleverness have been unable to realize.

You must stand clear Mr. Holmes or be trouble under foot.

You know I'm afraid that in the pleasure of this conversation I am neglecting business of importance which awaits me elsewhere.

Well, well, it seems a pity but I've done what I could.

This is a duel between you and me Mr. Holmes.

You hope to place me in the dark.

You hope to b*at me.

If you are clever enough to bring destruction on me, rest assured I shall do as much for you.

You have paid me several compliments, Mr. Moriarity.

Let me pay you one in return when I say that if I were assured of the former eventuality I would, in the interests of the public, cheerfully accept the latter.

I can promise you the one but not the other.

He is the Napoleon of crime Watson.

For years I have endeavored to break through the veil which shrouded him and at last I have seized a thread and followed it to Moriarity himself.

And now I'm ready to close on him.

If he doesn't close upon you first.

On Monday next, matters will be ripe but the Professor and all the principal members of his g*ng will be in the hands of the police.

Then will come the greatest criminal trial of the century, the clearing up of over 40 mysteries and the room full of them.

I cannot do better than to get away for the few remaining days.

It would give me great pleasure Watson, if you would come onto the Continent with me.

The continent?

I'd be delighted Holmes, but where?

Anywhere.

It's all the same to me.

Yes, but won't we have to dispose of Professor Moriarity first?

It seems to me that we're under siege in this very room.

And that reminds me I must be on my way.

Won't you stay the night?

No, it's too dangerous for you if I stay here.

I will leave the way I came and find lodgings with my brother Mycroft.

We start tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow morning?

Oh, yes, it is most necessary.

Now here are your instructions and I beg of you to follow them to the letter.

We are now playing a double-handed game with me, Watson against the most powerful syndicate of criminals in Europe.

You will dispatch whatever luggage you intend to take by a trusted messenger unaddressed at the Victoria Station tonight.

In the morning you will send Mrs. Hudson for a Hansome cab, desiring her not to take the first or second which may present itself.

You will drive to the Strand end of La Famules, handing the address to the cabman but with a request that he will not throw it away.

Have your fare ready and the instant that your cab stops move speedily through the muse and time yourself to reach the other end at exactly a quarter past 9 where you will find a small broom waiting close to the curb driven by a fellow with a heavy black coat.

Tipped at the collar with red.

Into this you will stay and you will reach Victoria in time for the Continental Express.

Excuse me sir, I wonder if you speak Italian.

No, I'm afraid not.

I'm looking for... the gentleman who reserved this compartment.

Not a sign of him sir.

If you're traveling you better get aboard.

My dear Watson you haven't even condescended to say good morning to me.

Good heavens Holmes, how you startled me.

It is still necessary to take every precaution.

I did rather fine, Watson.

I see that this express runs in connection with the boat so I think we've shaken off Moriarity very effectively.

Well what will he do then?

What I should do.

Engage a special train.

But he'll arrive too late.

You'll observe from your Bradshaw that this train stops at Canterbury and again at the boat.

Moriarity will catch us there.

Good heavens anybody would think that we were the criminals.

Let's arrest him as soon as he arrives.

No, that would ruin everything.

If we should catch the big fish then the smaller would dart right and left out of the net.

No, no, and the rest is invisible.

Well what then?

We shall get ours at Canterbury.

But Holmes our luggage.

We must give Moriarity something to follow.

What will we do?

We shall go across country.

Here we are Holmes, Bradshaw shouldn't let you down.

From Ashford Junction we can take a 1:00 slow train to Hastings, then onto the dear old London Brighton and South Coast line, Bax Hill on to Lewis non-stop, then onto New Haven, evening boat to Vienna.

I think we've got time for an early lunch.

So soon.

There are limits you see to even our friend's intelligence.

And now Watson, we shall treat ourselves for a couple of carpet bags, encourage the manufacturers, the countries through which we travel and make our way at leisure into Switzerland via Brussels, Luxembourg...

It fell out as Sherlock Holmes had predicted.

We stayed two nights in Brussels, then began to make our leisurely way southeast.

For a charming week we progressed towards the Alps.

What do you think?

A common enough occurrence in the mountains.

Nothing like drinking the wine where it's grown.

All g*ng safely secured, only Moriarity escaped the net, signed Mycroft.

He's given them the slip.

I think it would be better if you were to return to England Watson.

Why?

You will find me a very dangerous companion now.

Moriarity will devote all his energies to taking his revenge upon me and if I have a companion...

Would you be rid of me?

No, except for the reasons I've given.

We've been in tight places before together.

Never as tight as this one.

I'm not leaving you Holmes, not unless you order me to go.

I've never been to Switzerland before but the beauty of the landscape reminded me irresistibly of the northwest frontier provinces of India.

But in spite of the lovely scenery all around us, it was clear to me that never for one instant did Sherlock Holmes forget the shadow that lay across him.

I could tell by his sharp scrutiny of every face that he was well convinced that go where we would we would not be clear of the danger that was dogging our footsteps.

What was that?

See anything?

No, nothing It's time we went on our way.

Hans, we're on our way.

At last we reached the heart of the Bernese Oberland and came to the village of Meiringen where we put up at the Englischer Hof then kept by Peter Steiler the Elder.

Uh, Herr Steiler?

The walk over to the hills to Rosenlawry is very beautiful.

You can stay the night there and come back the next day but you must not on any account miss the falls of Reichenbach which is only a small detour.

Uh, there it is.

It is indeed a fearful place.

The torrent, swollen by the melting glacier.

Plunges into a tremendous abyss in which the spray rose up like the smoke from a burning house.

Herr, Dr. Watson.

Herr, Dr. Watson.

Herr, Dr. Watson.

Yes?

Herr Steiler told me to give you this.

It is very urgent.

It seems an English woman was taken to the hotel after we left on her way to friends in Lucerne.

She's had a great hemorrhage.

Tuberculose.

Oh, no doubt.

It appears she's dying.

An English doctor would be a great consolation.

I'm afraid I must go back Holmes.

Of course.

Steiler suggests that this lad shows you the way to Rosenlaui and I'll join you there later.

A good plan.

Hey!

I trust she's no worse.

You didn't write this?

There is no sick English woman at the hotel?

No, but it has the hotel mark.

Of course, there was a tall old Englishman who came here after you had gone.

He said...

it was the sight of the Alpine stalk that turned me cold and sick.

He had not gone to Rosenlaui.

I stood for a minute or two to collect myself for I was dazed with the horror of the thing.

And then I began to think of Holmes' own methods and to try to practice them.

Holmes, Holmes, Holmes.

My Dear Watson, I write these few lines through the courtesy of Mr. Moriarity who awaits my convenience for the final discussion of those questions which lie between us.

I'm pleased to think that I shall be able to free society from any further affects of his presence.

Though I fear that it is at a cost which will give pain to my friends and especially my dear Watson, to you.

As you know, my career had in any case reached a crisis.

And no possible conclusion to it could be more congenial to me than this.

Indeed if I may make a full confession to you, I was convinced that the letter... was a hoax.

I made every disposition of my property before leaving England and handed it to my brother Mycroft.

Good bye and good luck and believe me to be my dear fellow, very sincerely yours, Sherlock Holmes.

In this situation I have little doubt that a personal contest between the two men ended as it could hardly fail to end.

It's with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write these last words in which I shall ever record singular gifts by which my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes was distinguished.

I shall ever regard him as the best and wisest man I have ever known.