A Study In Terror (1965)

Movies which are prequels, sequels or based upon the TV series.

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A Study In Terror (1965)

Post by bunniefuu »

Hello Darling, like a bit of fun?

Police.

Police.

Help.

m*rder...

♪ I'm not too young I'm not too old ♪ Not too timid, not too bold ♪ Just the kind you'd like to hold Just the kind for sport, I'm told ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ Tarara boom-de-ay.

♪ I won't be bullied won't be bossed ♪ I always win, I've never lost ♪ So just keep your fingers crossed ♪ And hope you can afford the cost ♪ I'm game for almost anything ♪ That ends up with a diamond ring ♪ I love to have my little fling when I do...

♪ I always sing.

♪ Tarara.

♪ Boom-de-ay.

Tarara-boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay
♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay ♪ Tarara boom-de-ay Join me on the stage, lovely crowd.

The old wine tastes the sweetest.

One and two, guv.

- What?

- One or two.

Oh, yes, come.

It's Rupert's round, isn't it?

Rupert?

Rupert, old boy...

it's one and two.

I do believe this damn whore's lifted my purse.

What you talking about?

We will have to find it.

Where is it?

Up and over with her.

No.

No.

No.

Let me go.

Put me down.

Put her down.

She's not a bloody money box.

Put me down.

Let me down.

Give me a shilling anyway, would you?

Denounce her, sir.

- Give it to me.

Give it to me.

- Shut up.

No, let me go.

Put me down.

Let me go.

Oh.

Let me down.

No one steals in my pub, except me.

Except you, Mr. Steiner.

I...

I could tell the coppers something about you and your pub.

About what's going on upstairs, eh?

What did you say?

Nothing, Mr Steiner.

I didn't say nothing.

Honest, Mr Steiner.

You keep that big mouth of yours shut, will you?

Else I'll maybe have you carved.

Have me carved will you?

Like you did poor Emma Smith?

Didn't I knew, did you?

Wouldn't the coppers...

Oh.

You don't scare me, Steiner.

I'll have you.

I'll have you.

d*ck.

Hey, d*ck...

Take over I'm going out.

Disgusting.

Mrs Hudson...

where do you put my confounded tobacco?

Have you look in your violin case, Mr Holmes.

Thank you, Mrs Hudson.

God.

A member of the medical profession caught red-handed, Dr. Watson?

What?

Your indignation implies degree of familiarity.

My dear Holmes, you cannot think that I'm familiar with a maniac who meets the woman in the streets and stabs her again and again...

in Whitechapel.

What was the name of this unfortunate prost*tute?

Polly Nichols...

How did you know she is a prost*tute?

- Where do I put my damn pipe?

- How do you know, Holmes?

You haven't seen a newspaper.

You have been reading the stop press of the third edition of the Times, printed at 3.30 A. M.

Therefore, the news must have come in at about 3 o'clock in the morning.

As Polly Nichols was m*rder*d in the street, It is unlikely that her body remain undiscovered for long.

So I deduce that it happened about 1 o'clock in the morning.

Very interesting.

But still doesn't explain how you knew she was a prost*tute.

No respectable woman would be out alone in the streets of Whitechapel at such an hour, Therefore, she was not a respectable woman.

You make it seem so simple.

Oh, Holmes...

There was an identical m*rder of a woman in Whitechapel just three days ago.

A second m*rder?

- Now, that is interesting.

- Why?

Because it is the second m*rder.

And now, if you don't mind standing up, my dear friend?

Stand up?

What for?

It's a well known maxim of mine...

That when you have eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the solution.

And, therefore, you are sitting on my pipe.

- Incredible.

- Elementary, my dear Watson.

And now, Whitechapel.

Who's that?

- Oh, It's me, Mrs. Greenshow, Annie Chapman.

- What you want?

What do I want?

What do you think I want?

I live here, don't I?

Not anymore, you're out, not unless you pays your rent.

Oh, I'll give it you in the morning.

I heard that before.

You give it me now or you don't come in.

I ain't got it on me.

But I'll get it in the morning, in me new bonnet.

Yes, you can always find money for a new bonnet, but when it comes to pay your rent that's a different matter, innit?

I'll give it you in the morning.

Let me in.

Careful old cow.

You nearly ruined me new bonnet.

Serves you right.

And now you can shove off out of it.

Yeah, and you know what you can shove out of you.

Hello, darling.

Feeling naughty?

Move along.

Go on, move on there now.

Go on.

Wotcher, Cathy.

Have any luck?

No a bloody one.

I dunno know what's the matter with the men these days.

Could lend us the price of a bed for the night, could you?

I've been thrown out me room.

It's only a bob.

I haven't even met me old man's beer money yet.

He's sitting with his tongue hanging out.

He's dying for me to get off.

- Old cow.

- Don't you call me an old cow.

- Hello, Chunky.

- Hello, Annie.

You're out late, ain't you?

- Well, I've been thrown out me place.

- Yes, what for?

- I knocked her for the rent.

- Ah, never mind.

You shall find somewhere.

Well, I need some money first.

Ear, you don't fancy four penn'orth, do you?

I'm cutting the price tonight.

Sorry, I don't fancy it tonight.

Hey, what about you, love?

You don't fancy cuddling something live for a change, do you?

- Chunky...

- Yes, Annie?

You can have it for nothing, if you want to.

I'm feeling real lonely tonight, Chunky.

No, thanks, love.

I'm too busy, honest.

Oh, well.

Hey, you mind you don't let that Kn*fe slip.

Inspector Lestrade.

Here, I've found something.

No, Annie Chapman's purse was found with her body.

Police baffled.

Jack the Ripper vanished into thin air.

I say Holmes it's a just the circus that this desperate authorities will come running to Baker Street, eh?

- They're here.

- But not running, Watson.

The person who rang the bell does not desire entry.

He is not in a hurry.

In fact, he's deliberately slow.

He?

Now, how could you possibly that's not a woman handling the bell ring.

British postman is not a woman, Watson.

- A parcel for you, Mr Holmes.

- Incredible, Holmes.

Thank you, Mrs Hudson.

Postmarked Whitechapel.

Ah.

Surgical instruments.

Who could've sent those?

Which instrument is missing?

Oh, the large scalpel.

The postmortem Kn*fe.

There's no greater satisfaction for an investigator Watson, than to have a theory confirmed.

Was just the case they tell you anything, Holmes?

First, the obvious.

This instruments belongs to a medical man that has descended to hard times.

Is hardly go that obvious.

Instruments of one's trade always are the last things to be pawned.

- But, how do you know they were pawned?

- Observe this fleck of white.

Silver polish.

No surgeon would ever clean his instruments with silver polish.

They've Benn treated like common copper by someone concerned only with their appearance.

This is substantiated by these chalk marks.

Their related to the pawn ticket number.

But, they were stolen from a doctor and then pawned.

Pawnbroker thought it was stolen he would never has displayed in a window.

The shop faces south in a narrow street.

And business is bad.

And I also add that the pawnbroker is a foreigner.

Oh, I cannot see, Holmes...

On the contrary, you see everything but observe nothing.

Observe how the material faded here.

The sun has touch the inside of the case only when it as his height unable to shine over the roofs of the buildings opposite.

Hits the shops in a narrow street, facing south.

And business has to be bad for the case remained undisturbed for so long.

But, how can you possibly tell that the pawnbroker was foreign?

The 7 in the page number is crossed in the continental manner.

You will also observe the writing of the address, Watson.

Scrawled with difficulty.

The writing of a woman who seldom puts pen to paper.

- A woman you said?

- Undoubtedly a female hand.

Ah, but I am slow, Watson.

This case has more secrets to tell us.

Where are my tweezers?

The velvet on the lid has a different texture.

It has been added recently.

The coat of arms of an eldest son of a duke.

- Quickly Watson, my Burke's Peerage.

- Yes.

- Wait here, cabbie.

- Right, sir.

This way, gentlemen.

- His grace will be with you in a moment.

- Thank you.

To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of this visit?

No doubt you will recognise this coat of arms, your grace.

Where did you get this case?

I believe it to would have come from a Whitechapel pawnshop, sir.

Pawnshop?

No more than I predicted for him.

- For whom, sir?

- My elder son Michael.

- Do you know his present address?

- He is dead.

Of what accident or sickness, your grace?

Disobedience.

From the day he left this house against my wishes, he has been dead, sir.

- You mean disowned, your grace.

- Was he a doctor, your grace?

No, sir, but that was his ridiculous ambition.

Oh, the medical profession is, I believe, an honorable one.

To a certain class, but not to one of the Osborne family, to a man who would in good time would have become the 10th Duke of Shires.

- Any trade must be dishonorable.

- A Trade, sir?

Now, you please...

The servants will show you out.

Pompous ass.

Trade, indeed.

Did not my Burke's Peerage say there were two sons, Watson?

- Yes.

- Quick, give me the instrument case.

- How clumsy of me.

- Dear me.

Allow me.

This belongs to Michael.

- Where is he?

- I'm afraid I don't know, Lord...

Lord Carfax.

Sherlock Holmes.

This is my colleague, Dr.

Watson.

What do you doing with my brother's instruments?

They came into my possession this morning in the most singular fashion.

We just been see your father, but unfortunately...

My father is still very bitter about Michael.

When did you last see your brother?

Two years ago.

He went to study in at the Sorbonne in Paris.

These instruments were my own present to him.

He wrote a couple of letters, and then...

You tried to trace him?

I went over to Paris but he'd left the university in midterm and returned to England.

And since the you've heard nothing from him?

No...

No.

- Or seen him?

- Of course not.

Thank you.

Good day to you, Lord Carfax.

- Come, Watson.

- May I?

Good day.

- Whitechapel, cabbie.

- Yes, sir.

- Why Whitechapel, Holmes?

- To find the pawnshop.

It could be no coincidence that those instruments were sent to me after the m*rder of the third prost*tute.

A woman wishes to interest me in the crimes.

And I find that provocative.

Oi.

Give us a penny, Mister.

Give us a penny Here.

A pawnshop in a narrow street facing south.

- And observe, Watson, a foreign name.

- Uncanny.

Gentleman, can I help you?

I want some information on an article you had in your possession some months.

- No, I don't think...

- Come, Mr Beck.

Your face reacts faster than your brain.

You remember very well.

I would like to know who pawned this case of surgical instruments.

But who are you to come here and demand information?

Sherlock Holmes.

Now...

Who pledged this case?

The pawn ticket number was 872.

Well...

The name given to me was...

- Osborne?

- Osborne, but that's the name of...

Angela Osborne.

- Did the lady leave an address?

- The lady?

Two years ago.

Yes.

The Montague Street Hostel.

It's a soup kitchen run by Dr.. Murray.

And when did you sell this case?

A few days ago.

Yes, yes, it was last Saturday.

Ah, the night of the...

- The night of what, sir?

- To whom did you sell it?

A man.

I never saw him before.

And the missing instrument was that in the case when you sold it?

- Yes, yes, I think it was.

- You are sure?

Of course I'm.

I have reason to assume a connection between this case of surgical instruments and your local murders.

Murders?

But you don't think I have any...?

That's slander.

Talk like that can get you sued.

No, sir, talk like that can get you hang.

Accessory before the fact.

Supplying a w*apon for m*rder, Mr. Beck.

A very good day to you, sir.

Holmes.

Where are you in such a hurry to get to?

To examine the body of Annie Chapman.

The girl who was m*rder*d last night?

What for?

To confirm that the instrument of mutilation was a surgeon's scalpel.

Give us a penny.

- Lestrade?

- Mr Holmes, what are you doing here?

Our good fortune, Watson.

Inspector Lestrade to help us through the mirage of officialdom.

Oh, I don't know about that, Mr.

Holmes, what do you want?

- To look at the body of Miss Annie Chapman.

- I'm sorry, out of the question.

Very well, Lestrade, I will not argue.

I was looking to be able to assist you to prevent the fourth m*rder.

- Come Watson.

- Just a moment, Mr. Holmes...

What makes you think that he is going to do it again?

I think he will, Lestrade.

I think he will.

Oh.

All right.

May I?

God.

Could a human being have done this?

You see, Watson.

We are right in assuming that two weapons were used on this poor creature, Lestrade?

Oh, that's correct, Mr Holmes, yes.

A long, bayonet-type Kn*fe and a...

sharper, more meticulous instrument.

- A razor, or perhaps a surgeon's scalpel?

- I think a scalpel would be more probable.

I agree.

But you have the advantage over me sir.

You appears to know my name but I do not believe we have met.

I heard your lecture to the Royal Society on forensic medicine, brilliant, and quite brilliant.

My name is Murray.

Dr. Murray, you run a soup kitchen in the district.

A hostel, next door to here, for the destitute.

God's know, there's plenty of them in Whitechapel.

I also overwork as a police surgeon.

- Did you say a bayonet, doctor?

- Yeah, I think so.

Oh, yes a bayonet, without a doubt.

I serve my Queen as a m*llitary surgeon in Afghanistan, doctor.

Oh, aye.

The idea of a bayonet appeals to you, Lestrade?

Well, It narrows things down a bit, doesn't it?

Soldiers have bayonets, don't they?

Under leave soldiers come down to Whitechapel for a bit of fun with the girls.

I would hardly refer to this as fun, Lestrade.

Now, before you go out and arrest the entire garrison of the Tower of London, you'll do well to remember that a scalpel was also used.

Oh, yes.

Going on you hypothesis you should also arrest all the doctors as well.

Now, you can discount the m*llitary theory, Lestrade.

Oh, Why should I, Mr. Holmes?

Because the man who k*lled this girl have his clothes covered in her blood.

A soldier returning to his barracks would be detected at once.

No, Lestrade, look for someone living alone close to the scene of the murders, who either return quickly to the safe of his own home, or bundle his outer clothes into a safe hiding place.

Meantime, prepare yourself for more murders.

You keep saying that.

This are frankly look at this murders by deranged mind.

Whether is no motive there is no reason to stop.

That's only conjecture, Holmes.

All circumstantial evidence is conjecture, Murray.

- But it is often right.

- Mr Holmes is usually right.

221b Baker Street, please, cabbie.

Someone should have sent for us before this, Holmes.

Someone has.

The woman who sent me that instrument case.

Oh, but then why doesn't she come out into the open?

Being a woman, she uses a women's art.

She intrigues us to Whitechapel.

There is a small service I would like you to do for me.

Yes?

Visit this hostel of Murray's, demand and interview with Angela Osborne.

They will say she is not there, you will say she is.

Create a scene.

Create a scene?

What do I do then?

Then, Watson, you leave, of course.

♪ Guide me, O thou great Redeemer ♪ Pilgrim through this barren land ♪ I am weak but thou art mighty ♪ Hold me with thy powerful hand ♪ Bread of heaven ♪ Bread of heaven ♪ Feed me now and evermore ♪ Feed me now and evermore. ♪ You have to sing for your supper here.

♪ ..The verge of Jordan ♪ Bid my anxious fears subside... ♪ Be told, mate.

If you don't sing, they don't give you no grub.

♪ ..And hell's destruction - ♪ Lead me safe on Canaan's side... ♪ - Go on.

If you don't know the words, just make a noise.

♪ ..Songs of praises ♪ I will ever give to thee Give to thee ♪ I will ever give to thee. Amen. ♪ - Gay, you won't get no soup.

- I did not come here to partake of the soup.

God has sent you down his manna.

Come on, we'll fit you in somewhere.

Will you please stop this unwarranted interest in my diet.

I do not want any soup.

Can I help you?

Yes, I'm sure you can.

Sorry.

My name is Watson.

Dr. John Watson of Baker Street.

I am looking for a woman who is staying here.

Her name is Angela Osborne.

There's no one of that name here.

Oh, but Angela Osborne is here.

I am certain of it.

I think you'd better speak to my uncle.

Mary.

This way.

Oh, hello, Watson.

What are you doing here?

Come to help us?

Good.

Uncle...

Dr. Watson is looking for someone called Angela Osborne.

I tell him I've never heard of her.

What makes you think this Osborne woman is here?

Oh, she gave this hostel as her address in a business transaction.

Ah, when?

- About two years ago.

- Oh, names mean nothing here, Watson.

We've taken a girl occasionally who need help.

But they change their names as often as they change their clothes.

No, I can't help you.

- But she is here, I'm certain of it.

- But I'm certain she's not.

Now you've seen this people outside.

This is their only hospital and I'm their only doctor.

See I'll appreciate, but I done to starting answering questions about lost women.

Are not people of Mareng, I know that the woman is here and I demand to see her.

Demand as it be damned here, sir.

Will you kindly leave my surgery?

- But...

- Please, Dr. Watson.

Well...

You must excuse my uncle.

He works even at night.

- His work is these people.

- I insist on seeing Angela Osborne at once.

I will not be put off, young lady.

Please, doctor.

There is something very wrong here.

Everyone saying that they never heard of Angela Osborne.

You haven't seen the last of me, I promise you, I will not rest until I've found out what you have done to this poor and unfortunate girl.

You can be sure of that.

What the devil think you're doing?

Please, I've come to converse, no to engage in fisticuffs.

- Who the devil are you?

- Sherlock Holmes.

You may remember we met yesterday.

Sherlock Holmes?

Don't you think we be more comfortable in here?

What's all this about, Holmes?

- How did you get here?

- I followed this young lady.

I saw no one.

That is exactly what people may expect to see when I follow them.

May I ask you why you followed Miss Young?

She rush-up the moment the name Angela Osborne was mentioned, It was just what I expected someone to do.

You sent Dr.

Watson to the hospital.

Don't you thin you better tell me the whole story, Lord Carfax.

- It's none of your damned business.

- Oh, why don't you tell him everything?

It's nothing to hide.

Well, as I told you yesterday, I went to Paris and...

found that my brother Michael had thrown up his studies and returned to England.

For weeks I tried to find him, but...

Then, one night, a man came to see me.

He told me that Michael had married...

a prost*tute.

Blackmail?

- He threatened to tell the papers?

- He was far clever than that.

He threatened to tell my father.

He chosen his time well, my father had just suffered a severe heart att*ck that day.

You've met my father, Mr. Holmes.

The family name is the meaning of his life.

But surely your father is a man of the world.

Of the old world.

- Such a shock would've k*lled him.

- So you paid?

- Are you still?

- The blackmailer came back three times.

I then refused to pay him anymore until he told me the whereabouts of my brother and his...

That woman he married.

He told that if I visited the hostel the next day that Michael would be waiting for me.

- And was he waiting for you?

- No.

Oh, but I met Dr. Murray, and...

I met Miss Young.

I told them my story.

Michael had been helping Dr. Murray in his surgery.

He gave me the address of his lodgings but when I went down there I found that he left.

No-one has seen or heard them since.

- And your blackmailer?

- He bought himself a tavern..

The Angel and Crown.

Did you know Michael Osborne, Miss Young?

He left just the day before I came to the hostel.

It's a wretched story, Holmes.

One good thing about was that Edward...

that is Lord Carfax, became so interested in my uncle's work.

It is his money that has kept the hostel going the last few months.

When I saw the fight that Dr. Murray was making against the...

the poverty and sin in this district.

- It was the least I could do to try to help.

- He even bought this house to be near.

I'd be grateful if you would mention none of this to my father.

There is one more thing, Lord Carfax.

What branch of medicine was your brother studying?

His ambition was to be a surgeon.

♪ Food is dear, rent is dear, but love is cheap for the time of year ♪ So grab the nearest Miss and whisper while you kiss.

♪ In these hard times you got to put up with anything ♪ In these hard times you mustn't pick and choose ♪ And if you're nice and squeeze her tight she'll ask you round tomorrow night ♪ If you don't mind sitting without a light In these hard times ♪ Farmer Brown came to town he spent the day at the cattle show ♪ Then went to wet his whistle, inside the hotel Cecil ♪ Lady fair, near him there Had all her neck and shoulders bare ♪ Said Farmer Brown 'Alack' as he saw her dainty back.

♪ In these hard times ♪ you've got to put up with anything in these hard times you mustn't pick and choose ♪ This fancy kind of o' dress ye wear Leaves all ye neck and shoulders bare ♪ But you're lucky to be dressed to there.' In these hard times.

♪ Missis Green, rather mean Went out last Saturday marketing ♪ And saw out in the gutter, a codfish on a shutter she felt its gums, poked her thumbs ♪ All round the fish and she said 'Oh crumbs It don't look nice at all' ♪ Then the coaster had to bawl In these hard times.

♪ You've got to put up with anything ♪ In these hard times you mustn't pick and choose ♪ That codfish there's a sacrifice, and I ask ye Ma'am would you look nice ♪ If you'd 'ave been torpedoed twice, in these hard times?' ♪ In these hard times?

Come on out, you go.

Get up.

Had enough of you.

Going out.

Holmes, as I saw Holmes, I believe you delight in embarrassing me.

You invite me to dine and then bring me to a low East End pub.

Nonsense, my dear fellow, you'll bring some light into their drab lives.

Welcome to the Angel and Crown, gentleman.

This way.

Sit down, please.

We have always a warm welcome for guests.

So I see.

- What you have?

- Cognac.

You see the interest you're causing in the fair sex.

Here you are, gents.

- Will you join us in a drink, Mr...?

- Steiner.

Max Steiner.

d*ck, a glass.

Is another bad night.

Anyone scared off the street after dark.

And these ladies are coming here for safety?

Here is always a selection, if you're so inclined.

A selection?

Selection?

I'll have you know we did not come here for this reason.

- There's nothing I can do, for you then.

- Indeed there is Mr.

Steiner.

- What?

- You can give us some information.

Information?, what about?

About the disappearance of Michael Osborne.

What did you say your name was?

My name would alarm you, Mr Steiner.

- You're a copper.

- Consulting detective.

So I have my friends at Scotland Yard would be interested in a blackmailing...

black-odd like you.

You better watch what you say.

And you have better tell me what I want to know, otherwise my friends will put you on a dock.

- Who are you?

- Sherlock Holmes.

- Been to Lord Carfax, have you?

- You know Angela Osborne well, I take it?

How did you know?

Come on, how did you know?

There had to be an accomplice in your blackmail.

Compensation, I called.

I could have opened my mouth and collected from the press.

Or kept it shut and collected from Lord Carfax.

I did the nobility of England a service, Mr. Holmes.

Lord Carfax compensated me for my loss of business from the newspapers.

Compensation I called.

The governor of Brixton Prison will have another name for it in his admission papers.

Angela was on the streets when you met her?

Born to it, Angela was.

Loved the game.

Most of them start because they have to, but not Angela.

Met her at the gangway when my ship tied up on the river.

I took up with her.

And you took up with her again when she returned from Paris with Osborne?

His wife.

I always said...

she got her face and name from the angels...

and the heart from the devil.

And you don't know what happened to her?

Disappeared from the face of the earth.

Well, gentlemen...

that's all I can tell you.

Whatever could've possessed Michael Osborne to marry such a creature?

Because she got her face and her name from the angels.

I was remember, Watson one of the most attractive women I ever met was hanged for murdering three young children for the insurance money.

Holmes, I feel I was something violent when I see a villain like Steiner enjoying the rewards of his skullduggery.

Rewards?

Well, he ended up by owning that pub through his blackmailing.

You really are an amazing fellow, Watson.

Though not in yourself luminous, you're an excellent conductor of light.

I am?

Ah, Holmes, what ever you think became of Angela Osborne?

Well, that scoundrel said she that disappeared of the face of the earth.

And yet...

And yet.

Well, you think that Michael Osborne is dead?

I never theorize without evidence, my dear Watson.

Puts the estate in the mid of a mess I mean, if the duke should die...

and there was no proof that the elder son was alive or dead...

Watch your back I saw movement in the shadow a moment ago.

Brisk work, Watson.

Brisk work.

On my soul, Holmes.

When you take a guest out for the evening you really do it.

My apologies, dear Watson.

Next time I'll take you to a quiet table at the...

- Cafe Royal.

- I should jolly well think so.

Nothing like a piece of cold steel, eh Holmes?

Here we are.

Here's one.

Here's two legs, even.

- Watcha.

- Oh...

- Sailor's rest.

- We walked a mile for that.

Working up an appetite.

All the girls are indoors.

Scared to come out though.

They must've known we was in port.

Well, don't you worry because Jack and me we're going to look after you.

- Don't we, Jack?

- Yes.


Hey, don't fight over it, lads.

Aren't you girls been tell to get off the streets.

I've got to earn a living, don't I?

- Clear off, lads, go on.

- I'll met you inside.

Here, Miss...

don't you live that way?

- You coppers are ruining everything.

- Push off.

Thanks to Jack the Ripper..

Thanks to this brutal k*ller, yes, thanks to him...

the world is watching Whitechapel.

And I'll tell you this...

It's not the killings by a demented hand that the world finds horrible, no.

It's the m*rder by poverty.

The m*rder by misery, the m*rder by hunger.

In Whitechapel, Whitechapel...

the cry of the starving, the moan of the sick.

For years we've tried to get one paragraph into the newspapers to expose what's happening here.

I've been myself to editors, hat in hand.

It's not news, they said.

Well, now it is news.

One man has made us news.

We'll have a riot in a minute.

He's putting up this m*rder*r as a sort of deliverer of Whitechapel.

To seize a defenseless female, to stifle her cries and then...

How can anyone do this?

But someone does.

Why?

Why?

A motive, sir?

I'll tell you.

His motive is the punishment of Whitechapel, as God destroyed Sodom and the sinner Gomorrah.

- Oh, I'll have to shut him up, Mr. Holmes.

- No, you'll have to rescue him.

It's the social and moral crimes that must be ended in Whitechapel, not just the killings.

Yes, it is the dealers in vice and the purveyors of sex that the police must throw their force against, not just the k*ller.

I tell you there can be no peace in Whitechapel while licensed dens like the Angel and Crown...

cater on to dither to the dissolute and the debauched.

- Prime Minister, the Home Secretary.

- How's the battle?

When I left the Leader of the Opposition was still on his feet.

He has done what the police couldn't do, found the culprit.

You, prime minister.

Gladstone is inform.

I was afraid of that.

When he compare the Jack the ripper murders...

with the Bulgarian Massacres I could see you were in for trouble.

Not the only one.

Unless I much mistaken, he'll demand the resignation of the Commissioner of Police before the day is out.

And if he calls for a vote of no confidence, he might get it.

- You mean you might have to resign?

- Not I, personally, Just some of my ministers.

Don't you think, prime minister, we should go down?

As you please.

I'm expecting a visit from Mr Holmes.

That charlatan.

Mr Mycroft Holmes happens to be one of the most indispensable...

of all the servants of the Crown.

As long as he doesn't bring in his brother Sherlock.

That is precisely what I propose to ask him to do.

Then why not approach him direct?

Because your department has antagonized Mr.

Sherlock Holmes.

He has antagonized my department.

Only last week he was grossly offensive to the guvnor of Pennington prison.

- Mr. Mycroft Holmes.

- Show him in.

Now, Mr. Secretary, please try to be discreet for once.

It isn't going to be easy.

Mr. Mycroft Holmes will certainly wish to take charge of the investigation himself.

- Prime Minister.

- I think you know the Home Secretary.

I knew your predecessor, sir...

I know that I shall soon be making the acquaintance of your successor...

unless the police do a good better than they are doing at the moment.

I have confidence in the police.

That must be so why there're none left in the House of Commons.

Mycroft, I sent for you because you have the tidiest and most orderly brain in Her Majesty Civil Service.

Primer minister, I cannot deny it.

That been the case in main that you're presently engaged...

on the most delicate negotiations concerning the Peruvian copper concession...

You wish me to intercede with my brother that he may come to the aid of Scotland Yard...

and apprehend the Whitechapel m*rder*r.

How on earth did you know?

The summons of a such early hour make me suspect that the matter might be a personal one.

And the presence of the Home Secretary that it might be connected with Whitechapel murders.

The fact that the Peruvian Copper Concession has already been settled to everybody satisfaction...

the last three days...

made me suppose that was my brother not myself who you wish to consult on this occasion...

I have according the arrange to meet him.

You mean you'd already anticipated my request?

That, Prime Minister, is my business.

My Indian vase.

Just look at it, Holmes.

I wish you'd find some other way of solving our cases.

My dear Mycroft.

This is a surprise.

Watson, some sherry.

I expected you run last week to consult me about the Manor House case.

I thought you might be a little out of your depth.

No, I solved it.

- It was Adams, of course?

- Yes, it was Adams.

Yes, I knew that from the start.

Thank you.

- Mycroft, is this a social call?

- Oh, yes, yes.

Purely social.

Oh, yes.

- How are you?

- Very well.

Well, now the social call is over, haven't we better get down to business.

Ah, I can see you've come from the Prime Minister.

Why, Sherlock?

It's still four noon but you are not at your desk.

You are dressed for Buckingham Palace but the Queen is at Balmoral Castle.

And you already waste a great deal of time in idle chatter so obviously your mission is urgent.

Now, what is the Prime Minister want?

To ask you, in confidence of course, to bring the Whitechapel m*rder*r into justice...

before he brings down the government.

Any government which allow the poverty that Whitechapel deserves.

As far as I'm concerned, riddance.

Nor will I become engaged in political maneuvers.

And now my dear brother, have another glass of sherry?

Oh, thank you.

By the sound of his steps I should imagine our friend Inspector Lestrade have urgent news for us.

He's written to us.

- Bring the letter.

- Try to be coherent, Lestrade.

- Who has written?

- Jack the Ripper.

Good heavens, Sherlock, you're already involved.

A case of detection, Mycroft, always means more to me than any politician's career.

Read it, Watson.

Dear Boss, I keep hearing that the police have caught me.

But they won't fix me yet.

I have to laugh when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track.

I am down on whores...

and won't rest until I do get buckled.

I love my work and want to star again.

My Kn*fe is nice and sharp.

I want to get..." to work right away.

Good luck.

Yours truly, Jack the Ripper.

- This letter was sent to the police?

- The Central news agency.

Good, and they will have in all tomorrow's newspapers.

Orders from up top, Mr.

Holmes.

They're quite right for once.

Publish it and you'll have every crank in the country writing to the papers.

But If this letter is not publish, Mycroft, there will be more killings.

Why do you suppose the m*rder*r sent the letter to the news agency and not to the police?

For publication, of course.

- Perhaps he's sickening of his crimes.

- You think he's bluffing?

No.

But whatever his motive, and if...

if his motive is to create fear, he's trying to achieve it now without further killings.

But if we publish it we're adding to the fear on the run.

Precisely what the government is trying to avoid.

Morally asking had Her Majesty's ministers...

- to aid the bait Jack the ripper.

- If this letter does not appear, Mycroft...

he will return to the Kn*fe.

They must publish.

Orders, Mr. Holmes, that letter cannot be published.

Then I warn you, put every available man you have on the streets of Whitechapel.

We've come to view the body of Miss Elizabeth Stride.

- With your permission.

- Be careful, her head is almost severed.

Well, you found any clues yet?

No, we've scoured every hole in Whitechapel in the last few days, but nothing.

- He left no bloodstained garments?

- No.

- Maybe it is a he.

- Woman?

The constable who found the body report seen a woman in the alley just before...

Correction, Lestrade.

He reported seeing a woman's shape.

What difference?

What he said he saw is not what you're saying he saw.

That's different.

A woman's shape in the fog could be a man dressed in woman's clothes.

Really, I should hardly think it lightly, that Jack the ripper...

There is no pattern of behaviour, Lestrade, in a deranged mind.

What can you tell us, Dr. Murray?

Each m*rder is by the same hand.

What is your opinion of the Kn*fe-work, here doctor?

- What you mean?

- Does it not show surgical skill?

It is the work of a doctor?

Anyone with a modicum of medical training could have done it, yes.

A medical student, perhaps?

Is true this murders are the work of a madman, but a madman with certain medical skills, considerably intelligence and education.

- Skills, intelligence, education, this?

- Of course.

Take that letter.

The punctuation was exact.

The grammar and syntax, though cleverly concealed, were the work of an educated man.

Until graphologist it was obvious that the writing was deliberately scrawled.

We must not take the mask for the face, Lestrade.

Then if you're right, Mr Holmes, it brings us back to the doctors.

Don't be too sure, Lestrade.

Oh, well, I'd better be off.

I suppose now he'll going to arrest the entire staff for the London Hospital.

Would you look for a doctor, Dr. Murray?

There is one medical student who will shortly be under suspicion.

Oh?

- Michael Osborne.

- What's he got to do with it?

Medical student who lived in the district...

who had good cause to hate prostitutes, who has vanished in a suspicious way.

Michael Osborne has nothing to do with these murders.

It may have to be proved that he had nothing to do with them.

The newspapers will relish the story of the heir of the Duchy of Shires denying he is Jack the Ripper.

We are in Victorious England, sir, not Caligula's Rome.

At least consider his family and tell me what happened.

I have every consideration for his family, Mr. Holmes, that's why I must say nothing.

Of course I bait myself.

I should've refused the Prime Minister's request to call in my brother.

In any case, he was already engaged, with what result?

Stalemate.

I should've realized that only one person was capable of solving this problem, myself.

I should have taken charge.

I should have ditched the Abyssinian detente.

Refuse to discuss the details of the Nigerian loan.

I should concentrate on once...

For Heaven's sake, stop sawing away on that infernal instrument.

It was a sad day when Mother gave it to you, a sad day for her, a sad day for you, a sad day for all us...

- But it's his method, Mycroft.

- His method?

Method, Watson?

This butcher boy has the government, has all of us on the edge of a Kn*fe.

Only this morning three more men were att*cked in the streets of London.

- Carrying Gladstone bags with them.

- Carrying Gladstone bags.

They just rumor has it...

but is a Russian anarchist send by the Czar to bring down the government.

There's no prove in that, m*llitary intelligence...

m*llitary intelligence such as it is...

has investigate the rumor and found that there is no prove in it.

- How long is this recital been going on?

- Hasn't say a word since yesterday.

How long does it usually last?

- Sometimes for days.

- Then I'm leaving, they're wasting my time.

What I should never understand, Sherlock, is why, since you had that violin with you so long, you have never learned to play it.

Act, Sherlock, act.

Go to the scene of the crime.

Use your powers.

Interview the people concerned.

As Mother used to say, stir your stumps.

Don't bother to see me out, Watson.

But if short an intermission and get an opportunity you might remind my brother that he has never had so greater chance of serving his country, or seemed so unaware of his responsibilities.

Or of the intention of the composer when he wrote that tune.

- He's quite right, you know Watson.

- You rejoined the human race, have you?

I should be in Whitechapel.

A fools that not publish that letter.

There will be another m*rder tonight.

Come Watson, you and I will scour the streets together.

- What for?

- For the detail that matters.

This is hopeless, Holmes.

I mean, if Jack were just ten feet away, we wouldn't see him.

Fog to the m*rder*r is what the jungle is to the tiger, Watson.

It conceals him for all until he pounces and he's only evident to his victim.

- So, what do we do, Holmes?

- We must continue.

Jack the ripper will not allow conditions such like this to go unused.

He is out now, Watson.

Hello, love.

Hey, you look like a sport.

You fancy coming up?

Couple of shillings will do it.

Hang on a minute.

I'll throw you down the key.

Here you are, Johnny, catch.

Mind you shut the door behind you, Love.

Can't take no chances without Jack the Ripper about.

Hey, you know something.

I ain't been out in the dark for a month now cos of him.

Come on in, then.

Come on.

Here.

That's a lovely coat you got on, innit?

Could you make that ten bob for a special, Mister?

I do want a please you.

I have not a real gentleman nice since I started.

I'm pretending I've been on the game that long.

I'm proper new, I am.

- Holmes?

- Quickly, Watson.

Lemon Street Police Station.

Get Inspector Lestrade.

Tell him to cordon off the area.

Hello Holmes.

What are you doing in the hostel?

Chasing a shadow.

How long have you been here?

Since midnight.

Yup see no one in the last few minutes, no one passed through the hostel?

Here?

Hello, Edward.

Sorry I'm late.

- Mr Holmes?

- I drop in to see your uncle, Miss Young.

Dr. Murray is resting in the surgery.

He asked not to be disturbed.

Did he?

Come on, I'll take you home.

Wait, just a minute.

Dr. Murray?

Oh, Holmes.

I'm sorry, had a long postmortem on a poison case.

I'm a bit tired.

- What are you doing here?

- Following Jack the Ripper.

Here?

- He eluded me in the mortuary.

- The mortuary?

He had to confound through the arch into the hostel.

He did.

We will wait here together for the police.

What makes you think that the police are coming here?

You are the police surgeon.

They will bring the body to you.

Another prost*tute?

In the meantime, Dr. Murray, I would welcome the opportunity of a little chat with you.

What about?

About Michael Osborne.

- I told you before that Michael Osborne...

- He wasn't wanted under...

suspicion of m*rder before.

What do you talking about?

All questions leads back to Michel Osborne knowledge of surgery.

He could not possibly have m*rder*d anybody.

Prove it.

Don you think it would be best if tell me the whole story.

The full story of the night Michel Osborne found that his wife and Max Steiner were blackmailing his family.

You know about that?

Michael Osborne was one of the finest young men I've ever met, Holmes.

In the six months that he help me here...

I came to respect him as I've respected few other men.

You've obviously heard about his wife, vicious, depraved creature.

But he stayed with her in spite of everything.

And then one night, she brought Steiner here, to this very room.

And Michael heard from his wife's mouth their plan of blackmail.

- And how he was to be part of it.

- What happened?

Michael refused to have anything to do with it.

There was a quarrel.

That ended with Steiner attacking him.

He had no chance, Holmes.

Not even the sight of her husband being brutally beaten was enough for that woman.

She took a bottle of acid from the shell there, open it and throw to Michael face.

But she didn't?

It's difficult to know what happened then.

Maybe Steiner flung out an arm.

Maybe there not to get, I don't know.

But the acid...

went to her own face.

When Steiner saw the horror of it, he rushed out to get me.

Her angel face was a diabolical sight.

I did the best I could for her.

A week later, Steiner took her away in a close cab.

I've not seen or heard of her since that day.

And Michael Osborne got away?

Why weren't the family, the police informed?

He didn't die, Holmes.

Not quite.

Go on.

Finish your story, Dr. Murray.

Come and see, Holmes.

Finish the story yourself.

You wanted Michael Osborne.

Here he is.

Whether it was Steiner's blows to the head, or whether his mind could suffer no more of the world that his wife had shown him, I don't know.

But this is how he's been since that night.

How could Lord Carfax allow his brother remain here in that condition?

He doesn't know, Holmes.

Not even his own brother could recognize that poor creature as Michael Osborne.

Why have you kept it to yourself?

You have a duty to inform his father, Murray.

What father?

The father who disowned him.

Throw him our because he wanted to do some good with his life.

Isn't a wasting isn't the pleasures of the aristocracy.

- He had a right to know.

- And what about Michael's rights?

If he has any feelings he must be happier here than a walk in a padded cell for the rest of his days, no Holmes, no.

His life is over.

- Let the world leave him in peace.

- That may not be possible.

Why not?

Surely you can't suspect that poor lunatic.

In an investigation all possibilities have to be considered.

- Dr. Murray?

- Yes?

Inspector Lestrade sent me for you, sir.

Lestrade, my dear fellow.

Are you not well?

You'll never see anything like it this side of hell.

What animal could have done this?

Prepare yourself for a shock, Dr. Murray.

Come, Watson.

Aren't you going to examine the body?

There's more important examination must make.

I'm coming.

Stop.

Always these drunk people.

What the hell do you want?

- You're asking for trouble, aren't you?

- No, sir, we're giving it.

I want to see the owner of this doubtful establishment.

You have got a nerve.

Coming to see me at this time in the morning.

I said the owner, not the hired help.

Tell Angela Osborne I want to see her.

You are not going upstairs.

Now there are several things I may do, Mr Steiner.

All right.

But give her a chance.

Let me warn her.

- Warn her?

- You can't just walk in on her.

Not the way she is.

All right, come up.

Please sit down, Mr Holmes, Dr. Watson.

You will forgive the suddenness of my visit and the inconvenience of the hour.

Night and day are indistinguishable in these rooms.

A lamp turned down is my morning sun, Mr. Holmes.

What do you want, Holmes?

Out with it.

Must excuse Mr Steiner's lack of hospitality.

It is seldom it ever we receive guests.

On the contrary, Mr Steiner's hospitality is noted through out Whitechapel for the endless lengths he will go to to provide comfort for his guests.

And it has been very profitable.

I hope you're not in spoil it.

They way you make your money is of no interest to me.

Then why are you here?

I'm here to ask the lady what she has done with the Kn*fe.

Kn*fe, Mr. Holmes?

The postmortem scalpel that you removed from the set of surgical instruments you sent me.

You are all I expected of you.

Give it to him, Max.

It is a limited life alone in these rooms and I spend many hours reading your cases.

I am grateful for the excellence of your narrative, Dr. Watson.

Can you tell an admirer, Mr Holmes, how you knew I send the instruments?

It had to be someone who wanted to interest me in Michael Osborne.

And the writing on the address show me that it was a woman of little formal education...

of your age.

Simple deduction.

And how did you know I was here?

- I was told that you had been...

- Mutilated.

Made odious to myself and to the world.

d*sfigured, It was that obvious why you'd gone into hiding.

But, why did you remove the scalpel from the case?

- To be certain to intrigue Mr Holmes.

- But we have only your word for that.

I do believe the good doctor thinks I'm Jack the ripper.

Why should Angela m*rder those women?

Why should she?

Of course, Dr.

Watson is observant.

I hate all women.

He knows why.

They're all prettier than I am.

That is why.

The woman with the ugliest face in the world.

Want to see?

But I was beautiful.

Eh, Max?

Ja.

You were.

You can say it, Mr Holmes, that I hate women.

But I am not your k*ller.

As you can see...

I am incapable of even stepping into the street.

Why did you hate your husband so much?

- Hate him?

Who told you that?

- Why, Dr.

Murray.

For Dr.

Murray, Michael was a saint.

But to me, Michael was a man who tired easily.

He seemed unbalanced at the time.

He couldn't take the discipline of medical study...

and was the same with his marriage.

He quickly get tired of me and sent me back to work.

- You mean on the streets?

- His father had cut him off.

How you think we lived?

The two shillings I brought in weren't enough for him.

So, he thought up a way to get money from his brother.

- His was the blackmailing scheme?

- Who else?

Why you think he sent Max to young Carfax instead of to his father?

Because Michael father would never give him another penny.

Michael father knew him.

Knew him for what he was...

a vicious, worthless libertine.

Vicious?

If you call a man who throws acid into his wife's face vicious...

because she can bear him no more and is leaving him.

Wasn't the man who did that vicious?

By God, Holmes, there's a woman of great character.

I'm afraid Watson, you're not probing deeply enough.

Her scars extend far beyond the surface.

What do you mean?

She may well believe her strange story to be the truth.

And now Watson, let us going pick up the unfortunate Michael Osborne.

- You mean you know where he is?

- Come along, Watson.

Father, Mr Sherlock Holmes is here.

I was not aware that I had an appointment with him.

You must prepare yourself for a shock.

Mr Holmes has brought Michael back.

I have forbidden your brother this house, Edward.

I have not altered those instructions.

- But father, Michael...

- Do not argue with me.

Your grace...

You were shown out of my house on your last uninvited visit, Mr Holmes.

I have come back to save your family name.

If my eldest son had got himself into another mess you can tell him to get himself out of it.

I'm afraid I cannot do that, your grace.

He is not capable of understanding.

Of course he can understand.

Your son is a pathetic imbecile...

incapable of understanding the smallest intelligent action.

He has suffered for his sins.

He is outside that door.

I have brought him home.

- Edward.

- Yes, Father?

Have Michael put into his old room.

Of course.

Do it yourself, Edward, it's better not the servants.

And tell him...

I shall come and see him presently.

- Mr Holmes...

- Your grace.

How did you find my son?

His identity was revealed to me by a doctor in a hostel for the destitute last night.

His mind by a lady in a public house, the Angel and Crown this morning.

- I am indebted to them both.

- Thank you, Mr Holmes.

Ah, Holmes...

You know, don't you?

You know who Jack the Ripper is.

Who is he?

I must keep that from you a little longer, Watson.

But, aren't you going to arrest him?

Knowing is one thing, proving what we know is another.

But, we can't let him roam the streets, Holmes.

Indeed we can not, Watson.

But there's work to do done before the final curtain can be brought down.

That is what we've been doing this morning.

Setting the scene and rehearsing for the last act of Jack the Ripper.

I wondered what we've been doing.

- Anything?

- No, nothing.

Good evening, Lord Carfax.

Angela.

But how on earth did you get out of it, Holmes?

You know my methods, Watson, I am well known to be indestructible.

Besides, I wouldn't have miss this excellent partridge.

How did you know the...?

How did you know it was Carfax?

Oh, Holmes?

His medical knowledge.

When I dropped the case of instruments in his father's house, he picked it up.

You remember that, Watson?

Natural politeness I thought.

You a doctor, did not noticed that he immediately put the instruments into their right niches.

How odd, I thought.

How interesting.

A layman might ponder for a moment, but Carfax did not hesitate.

But is that all you have to go on, isn't it an obvious fact that Dr. Murray...

Nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact, Watson.

But what was most obvious and revealing was the letter.

That harum-scarum diatribe in red ink, Holmes, revealing?

Precisely.

The writer described his murders as his work, I love my work, I want to get of work right away.

If his gruesome activity was as he said he was his work.

He was obviously a man of means who had no need of ordinary employment.

Dr. Murray, who works very hard, would've written that pas-time.

I ruled out Murray.

- You make it sound simple.

- And so it was.

When I investigate the Osborne family, I found insanity through four generations.

Carfax's reason hung on a thread.

That his brother should put the name of Osborne to a common prost*tute...

and that she should carries that name through the streets corners of Whitechapel broke that thread.

Carfax was protecting insanely the family name.

He'd never seen Angela...

but it seem logical to him, mad to us, that he could k*ll her by a process of elimination.

He searched for her with his Kn*fe.

From one prost*tute to the next.

Yes, but Lestrade and the police...?

Lestrade and the police do not know the identity of Jack the Ripper.

No useful purpose will be serve in disclosing his identity now.

The Osborne family have suffered enough as it is.

Lestrade has his three buckets of ash but we will keep the name.

Parcel for you, Mr Holmes.

Postmarked Nottingham.

Aha, the game's afoot again.

This hat is three years old.

The flat brim with curled edges came in then.

It belongs, Watson, to a man who has suddenly gone down in the world.

He is middle-aged, goes out little...

and has grizzled hair which has been cut in the last few days.

Also...
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