05x04 - The Boscombe Valley Mystery

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Father, we have been through...

Do as I tell you, boy!

Give me the g*n!

It's my life!

I'm going to run it the way I like.

Get off out of it!

- Good morning.

- Morning.

- Caught anything?

Not yet.

Holmes!

What on earth are you doing here?

Looking for you, but carry on, my dear fellow.

Don't let me disturb you.

What on earth are you doing here?

A case has brought me this way.

What sort of case?

The newspapers call it the Boscombe Valley Mystery.

I expect you've read about it.

Not a word.

I haven't seen a paper for days.

A farmer called McCarthy, Australian by birth, met his death by a mere at the bottom of his farm.

They seem to have established a very serious case against the son of the man.

There's a big one just under that rock.

So then, it's...a m*rder?

Well, it is conjectured to be so.

Of course, I shall take nothing for granted until I have a chance to look into it personally.

Naturally.

I don't wish to spoil your holiday but I was wondering if I could persuade you to join me for a couple of days.

Well, of course.

- Are you sure?

- I shall be delighted.

Then we must move quickly.

Our local train leaves in minutes.

Your hot water, sir.

- Watson, all this fresh air will k*ll me.

- Mm.

Well, the London press don't seem much interested.

Not very full accounts.

Yes.

Useless.

- So much for the London press.

- It all seems simple.

- What made you take an interest?

- This.

"Boscombe Valley Mystery.

There has been a grave miscarriage of justice.

"The matter is urgent.

We need your help.

"Please come if you can.

Alice Turner." Good heavens.

Who is Alice Turner?

She's the daughter of Mr Turner, also Australian, who owns this whole estate.

Well, it's a mystery, not m*rder to Miss Turner.

Note the "we", Watson.

"We need your help." If there was a cry from the heart, that is it.

It leaps from the paper.

- Have you seen this lady?

- Not yet.

Do you remember Sergeant Summerby?

Summerby...

Oh, yes, the case of the counterfeit Spanish dollars.

- Mexican.

- Pleasant fellow.

Much admired your methods, did he not?

Probably his reason for promotion to inspector.

He is in charge of the case.

He organised this accommodation for us.

- Us?

You presumed that I would come.

- No, not presumed, Watson.

Hoped.

Very much hoped.

Well, Mr Holmes.

And you, Doctor.

It's a pleasure to see you again.

Congratulations on your promotion.

Inspector.

Thank you, Doctor.

It's a quiet district as a rule but nonetheless my own.

I have a carriage waiting.

McCarthy, the m*rder*d man, rented a farm called Hatherley from Mr Turner, one of the largest landed proprietors in the area.

I presume that both being colonials, they had much in common.

Old friends.

Mr Turner has been in failing health for some time.

- He has a daughter called Alice?

- An only child and a most charming one.

We surmised that Miss Turner and the McCarthy boy are friends.

- Great friends.

- It is Miss Turner who brings me here.

I know and, to be quite honest, I'm surprised you came.

Well, the case is as plain as a pikestaff and the more one goes into it, the plainer it becomes.

So I've warned Miss Turner that not even Mr Sherlock Holmes can work miracles.

So there we are.

- Beautiful countryside.

- Yes, indeed.

This is Boscombe Valley.

Over there, at the bottom, is Boscombe Mere, where the m*rder took place.

- Peaceful place for a tragedy.

- Any witnesses?

I expected that question, Mr Holmes.

The principal witness is William Crowder, one of Mr Turner's gamekeepers.

It was after I'd had me dinner.

Last Monday it was.

The er...third of June.

Aye.

Aye, that's right.

So I fed the young pheasants, poults we call them.

You were planting out lettuces.

Aye.

Aye, that's right.

I was setting out some lettuces, those lettuces over there, when my little girl Patience, she comes running up.

Dad!

Dad!

The McCarthys are fighting!

Won't be the first time.

Well, don't you worry about it, Patience.

It ain't no concern of ours.

Go on.

In you go.

That Mr McCarthy, he had a temper, that man, you know.

Oh, aye.

Do you know if he thought another g*n had poached his bird out sh**ting, he'd let fly in a real fury.

Was the boy the same way inclined?

No milk for me.

Er...no.

No, not that I've noticed anyway.

No, he always seemed a nice enough boy.

I'm surprised him doing such a thing.

But then again...he was provoked.

No doubt.

Who's to say.

You tell the gentlemen what happened next.

- What?

- You haven't forgotten your evidence.

Forgotten.

I shan't forget that day, not so long as I live.

'Now, I'd just sent Patience into her mother 'and I hadn't planted out no more than another half box 'when young McCarthy comes running up, looking like he'd seen a ghost.' My father's met with a terrible accident.

I need your help.

- Where is he?

- Down by the mere.

Is he alive?

You just come along with me.

I brought him back here and I sent me wife down in the trap for the police.

- Did the boy say anything?

- No.

No, not a word.

He just sat there where you are, sobbing and moaning and I didn't take me eyes off him till they came for him.

Did you examine the g*n at all, the butt for instance?

Er...no.

No.

Not especially.

There was a bit of mud on it.

He wiped it.

He wiped it.

Well, I might have done.

It would have been natural.

There was Mr McCarthy lying with his head bashed in.

- He hadn't got that way swatting wasps.

- You believe the boy k*lled his father?

Well, of course I do, sir.

I mean, who else could have done it?

I can tell you this much gentlemen.

I'm a gamekeeper, right?

When a man's got a g*n in his hands, strange things can happen.

Now, I've seen men, quiet, law-abiding gentlemen, you put a g*n in their hands, they turn into maniacs.

Thank you so much for giving so much of your valuable time.

Well, it's been a pleasure, gentlemen.

It's not the first time I've been able to help the cause of justice.

It were last year.

Candlemas time, remember?

- No, I'm a liar.

It were two year ago...

- We must be on our way.

I'm on the side of law and order.

The inspector will tell you that.

Indeed you are, Crowder.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

They're all the same, country people.

Get an audience and they'll talk the hind leg off a donkey.

I'll take you to the scene of the crime.

- No need for the moment.

- That's very true.

No need in the circumstances.

It's a sad case but a pretty clear one.

The glass is high.

The weather set fair.

I should like to call on James McCarthy.

- I can arrange it if you wish.

- Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

One more thing I should tell you, Mr Holmes, when the boy was charged with the m*rder, he didn't appear surprised.

In fact, he said it was no more than his deserts.

- Those were his very words.

- A confession.

- You might think so.

- Did he also protest his innocence?

Yes, but then again they always do, don't they?

We'd best be getting back to the hotel.

I have some calls to make on the estate.

Till tomorrow then.

Boscombe Arms.

The boy said he got no more than his deserts.

That's a suspicious remark.

I mean, coming after such a damning series of events.

On the contrary.

It is the brightest rift I can see in the clouds.

The contrition displayed by his remark appears to me to be signs of a healthy mind rather than a guilty one.

Many men have been hanged on far slighter evidence.

So they have and many men have been hanged wrongfully.

Oh, look, a pheasant.

Hm.

"Witness." That's James McCarthy.

"I had a conversation with my father which led to high words "and almost to blows."

His temper was becoming ungovernable.

I left him and went up the hill.

I hadn't gone more than yards when I heard a hideous outcry, which caused me to run back again.

I found my father expiring on the ground, with his head terribly injured.

Did you see anyone near your father when you returned?

No.

No one.

I have no idea how he came by his injuries.

He was not a popular man, but as far as I know he had no active enemies.

I know nothing further of the matter.

Did your father say anything to you before he d*ed?

He mumbled a few words but all I could catch was some allusion to a rat.

- Silence!

Be quiet!

A rat?

What did you understand by that?

It conveyed nothing to me.

I thought...

Well, I thought he was delirious.

What was the point upon which you and your father had this final quarrel?

I should prefer not to answer, sir.

- I'm afraid that I must press it.

- It is impossible for me to tell you.

But I can assure you it had nothing to do with the sad tragedy that followed.

That is for the court to decide.

Your refusal to answer will prejudice your case considerably in any future proceedings.

You may sit down.

Gentlemen of the jury, you are here to discover the cause of death of Mr William McCarthy and to deliver your verdict.

You have heard the facts of this crime.

I believe they make the situation very clear.

Mr James McCarthy's account of his father's dying is singular to say the least.

His refusal to give any details of their last conversation must go against him.

The verdict of wilful m*rder seems to me to fit the facts we have heard.

I hope I make myself clear.

'So wilful m*rder it was.'

Nonsense.

The boy did rather ask for it.

Don't you see you and the coroner have been at some pains to single out the strongest points in the young man's favour?

Don't you see you give credit for too much imagination or too little?

Too little if he could not invent a quarrel to get the sympathy of the jury.

Too much if he evolved from his own inner consciousness anything so outré as a dying reference to a rat.

These country coroners do think they're little tin-pot gods.

- It's an absolute scandal.

No, no, no.

I shall approach this case from the point of view that what this young man says is true.

We have a visitor.

My young client has arrived.

- Come in.

I'm so glad you have come, Mr Holmes.

I'm Alice Turner.

This is my friend and colleague Dr Watson.

Dr Watson, of course.

You have written down Mr Holmes's cases in such an interesting way.

You see, I know all about you, Mr Holmes, and your wonderful success.

If you knew how much we need you now.

Do you yet know anything of what happened?

Please, sit down, Miss Turner.

Inspector Summerby has told me something of it.

Oh, yes, the inspector.

He gave me your address.

He's quite a kind man, isn't he?

But he doesn't understand.

Well, how could he?

He's a policeman.

Mr Holmes, I know that James didn't do it.

I know it and I want you to start your work knowing it, too.

Never let yourself doubt upon that point.

Have you known James McCarthy a long time?

Yes.

All my life.

We have known each other since we were children.

But he's too tenderhearted to hurt a fly.

Well, this charge is just absurd to anyone who really knows him.

I hope that we may clear him.

I shall do all I can.

But from what you've heard already, do you not think he's innocent?

I think it is...probable.

Though I don't think my friend is so convinced.

Well, I...think that Mr Holmes has been a little quick in his conclusions.

But you are right.

I know that you are right.

James never did it.

This quarrel with his father which he would not talk about to the coroner.

- Do you know anything of it?

- It was because I was concerned in it.

In what way?

It is no time to hide anything now.

James and his father had many disagreements about me.

Mr McCarthy was very anxious that there should be a marriage between us.

But James and I have always loved each other like brother and sister.

We haven't seen so much of each other lately.

I have been at boarding school for some years and James has been studying in Liverpool.

He is only and has seen very little of life and...

Well, I suppose he doesn't wish to do anything like that just yet.

So there were quarrels.

And this I'm sure was one of them.

How old are you, Miss Turner?

I'm , quite nearly .

As you say, this isn't a time to hide anything.

Are you in love with James McCarthy?

Yes, I am, Mr Holmes.

Very much in love.

There is no one else and never will be.

Even if...

And he with you?

Oh, I think so.

I hope so.

But how should I know for sure?

We have never discussed marriage.

Was your father in favour of such a union?

No.

He was averse to it.

No one but Mr McCarthy was in favour of it.

Thank you...for being so frank with us.

If I was to visit your father, could I see him, please?

I'm afraid not.

The doctor has forbidden any visitors.

Oh, I'm sorry.

We did not know he was so ill.

My father has never been strong.

This has broken him completely.

He has taken to his bed and Dr Willow says that he is a wreck and his nervous system is shattered.

I can hardly leave him, or I would have been at the station to meet you.

Well, you see, Mr McCarthy was the only man alive who'd known Dad in the old days, in Australia.

- Australia?

- In Victoria, at the gold mines.

That's where Dad made all his money.

You have been... of material assistance to me.

Will you be able to see James?

- Tomorrow.

- Tell him that I know him to be innocent.

I will.

- Could you give him this?

- Of course.

And if you have any news, you will tell me?

I must go home now.

I left my father asleep but if he wakes and I'm not there, he'll be upset.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

And God help you in your undertaking.

May I see him alone, please?

As you wish but remember this man is on remand accused of m*rder and a man under such circumstances is unlikely to speak the truth.

Thank you for your good advice.

Joseph McCarthy, my name is Sherlock Holmes.

I'm here to help you.

How should I know that?

You came with a police inspector.

I saw him out there.

I'm here at the request of Miss Turner.

I am sorry, Mr Holmes.

Lately I've learned to trust no one.

I'm afraid you've come too late.

They've already made up their minds that I am guilty.

- Well, I have not.

- The coroner's court.

The coroner and the coroner's jury only sit to enquire into the facts.

They do not sit in judgement.

- Well, how can I help you?

- Tell me exactly what happened.

Let us sit down over here where we can talk quietly and not be overheard.

- Where shall I start?

- You choose.

Erm...well, I've been studying in Liverpool for some three years.

My father was most anxious I should have some academic qualifications.

It was on that day, June rd, that I returned home.

'Was your father expecting you?'

'Not exactly.

He knew I was due for a few days' holiday but not the exact day.

'A local carrier took me up to the farm from the village.'

- Nice to see you back, Master James.

- It's nice to be back, George.

Hey, stand, stand.

- Is my father in the house?

- No, he went off five minutes ago.

Looked as though he had something on his mind.

- All right, George.

- Will you be wanting t'pony later?

Er...no.

No, I'll ride tomorrow.

I might take the g*n, see if I can pot a few rabbits.

They need sh**ting.

The place is crawling with them.

Walk on.

Hello, Father.

- James?

What are you doing here?

- I'm just home for a few days.

That's all.

Well, I don't want you down here.

So get off out of it.

Keep away.

Do you understand?

- Yes.

Why?

- None of your damned business!

Just do as you're told!

James.

Look...

Now you are here, get over the Turners' place and tell that girl you'll marry her.

I'll do no such thing.

We have been through...

Do as I tell you, boy, you damned disobedient little bastard!

Give me the g*n.

Give me the g*n.

It's my life and I'm going to run it the way I like!

All right, damn you.

I'll throw you out.

I'll ruin you.

You'll see.

Now, get off out of it!

I had hardly gone any distance at all when I heard a terrible scream.

I ran back down and found my father lying on his side.

- Did you see anyone else?

- No.

- No movement anywhere?

- No.

My attention was on my father.

He was terribly wounded.

You would not tell the coroner about this quarrel with your father.

It was something private.

It was no business of his.

Was it because this confrontation with your father might incriminate you?

No.

No.

It was because it concerned Alice.

It was no business of the coroner's or anyone else's.

I wasn't going to have her name bandied about in the courtroom.

You do know that Alice loves you, James?

And believes you to be innocent.

Yes, I know.

The thought of her love and her faith in me has kept me in some sort of sanity in this horrible place.

And yet you did not wish to marry her, as your father so clearly wished.

Perhaps you did not share her love.

I did.

I do, Mr Holmes.

I love Alice Turner.

I...I adore her.

I worship the very ground she treads on.

- But...

- And yet...

I could not ask her to marry me because...

because I was married already.

Don't you think you'd better tell me about it?

When...

When I first started studying in Liverpool, my father gave me a very generous allowance.

Too generous for my own good.

I became very wild and fell in with a bad set of people.

In a fit of drunken madness, I went through a marriage in a register office to a woman much older than I was.

A barmaid.

I hardly ever saw Alice at that time.

Of course, I couldn't tell my father.

He'd certainly have thrown me out.

Yes, I'm sure he would.

Have you any idea who would have k*lled your father so brutally?

None whatsoever.

Do you know, I go over the scene day after day after day in my mind.

But I am as puzzled as everyone else is.

Don't give up hope.

Thank you, Mr Holmes.

- Oh, Mr Holmes.

- Yes.

It hardly concerns all this business but perhaps I should tell you.

Some good has come out of this evil.

Since I've been here, I've received a message from the woman I married, who has read in the newspapers that I am in serious trouble and likely to be hanged.

She wrote that she had a husband already in the Bermuda dockyard.

- Good heavens.

- So...there is no legal tie between us.

If only I had known before.

You were right to tell me.

Poor fellow, it must have been maddening to be upbraided by his father for not doing something he would give his very eyes to do.

- If he's innocent, who did it?

- Indeed.

Perhaps I can help.

I've not been entirely idle in your absence.

In the surgeon's deposition of the inquest it states that the posterior third of the left parietal bone and the left of the occipital bone were shattered by blows from a blunt w*apon.

Now, that's here, behind.

But the evidence states that they were quarrelling face-to-face.

- That's a very nice piece of deduction.

- Thank you.

But hardly a valid one.

McCarthy could have easily turned his back.

But I'm so glad that you're coming round to my way of thinking.

- And Miss Turner's.

The boy's innocent.

- I didn't say that.

But you're thinking it, just a little.

Those were the boots the master was wearing at the time he was...m*rder*d.

I've cleaned them up since, of course.

Those...

Those were a pair of Master James's.

He bought them new last Michaelmas.

Thank you, George.

Now, let us go down to the mere.

This is the place, Mr Holmes.

You can still see traces of the blood.

Please, would you keep clear of this area.

Why did you enter the mere, Inspector?

I fished about with a rake.

I thought there might be a w*apon thrown there.

If only I'd been here before they came like a herd of buffalo and wallowed all over it.

This must be the gamekeeper and his g*ng.

These tracks are young McCarthy's.

And these.

Twice he walked.

And turned.

Once he ran.

So the soles of the feet are deeply marked.

The heels are hardly visible.

That would bear out his story.

He ran when he saw his father on the ground.

He does work at it, I'll say that.

The father paced up and down right here.

What have we here?

Tiptoes.

Tiptoes.

Square toes.

Most unusual boots.

Where did Mr Square Toes come from?

He'd have made a rare bloodhound, would Mr Holmes.

Ah.

It has been a case of considerable interest.

Come.

Thank you, George.

Thank you, sir.

Would you deliver this note?

Yes, sir.

Indeed.

Right away.

This may interest you, Inspector.

The m*rder was done with it.

- I can see no marks.

- There are none.

- How do you know?

- The grass was growing under it.

It had only been there a few days.

It corresponds with the injuries.

And the m*rder*r?

He's a tall man, left-handed, limps with the right leg, wears thick-soled sh**ting boots with square toes, smokes Indian cigars, uses a cigar holder and carries a blunt penknife in his pocket.

You're a brilliant man, Mr Holmes, and I wish I had your brains.

Your theories are all very well but I'm still not convinced.

Not this time.

We have to deal with a hard-headed British jury.

Well, you've had your chance, Inspector.

I'm a practical man, Mr Holmes.

I cannot undertake to go all round the country, looking for a...

left-handed gentleman with a gammy leg.

I shall become the laughing stock of Cheshire.

We shall see.

You work your method, I shall work mine.

Now, let us take this morning's work.

From our examination of the ground, I gained details as to the personality of the criminal.

- But how?

- You know my method.

It is founded upon the observance of trifles.

His height, you might judge by the length of his stride.

His boots by his traces.

But the man's lameness?

The impression of his right foot was less distinct than the left.

- Why?

Because he limped.

- He's left-handed.

The blow was delivered from behind him and yet it was on the left.

- Watson.

- He must have been a left-handed man.

He stood behind that tree during the confrontation between father and son.

- He even smoked.

- Smoked?

Cigar ash.

An Indian cigar.

You will remember my little monograph on the subject of ashes from pipe, cigar and cigarette tobacco.

different varieties, if I remember.

, thank you, Watson.

Having discovered the ash, I discovered this stump, which the man had thrown among the moss.

An Indian cigar, rolled in Rotterdam.

You'll notice that the end has not been in his mouth.

So he used a cigar holder.

The tip has been cut off, not bitten, but the cut is not a clean one, so I deduced a blunt penknife.

You're amazing.

Among the words mumbled by the dying man, the only word that young McCarthy could understand was the word rat.

- Rat...

- Hm.

Most curious.

Come with me.

Now...

- What do you read?

- "A rat."

- And now?

- "Ball a rat."

- Ballarat.

- That is the word the man uttered.

- Australia.

- What is Ballarat known for?

Gold fields.

Miss Turner said her father met McCarthy on the gold fields.

I see the direction all this points.

An Australian from Ballarat who is at home in the district.

Unless I'm very much mistaken, he's here.

Mr John Turner.

Mr Holmes.

Dr Watson.

My daughter told me you were lodging here.

- Did you get my note?

- Yes, yes.

About coming here to avoid a scandal.

Better than meeting up at the hall.

- People might talk.

- Why do you wish to see me?

Oh, yes.

I know about you and McCarthy.

My friend Watson will jot down a few facts.

I promise they'll not be used unless it is absolutely needed.

Do sit down.

You didn't know the dead man McCarthy.

He was the devil incarnate.

God keep you out of the clutches of a man such as he.

His grip has been upon me these many years and he's blasted my life.

I'll tell you first how I came to be in his power.

It was in the early ' s at the diggings.

I was a young chap then, hot-blooded and reckless.

Well, I had no luck with me claim.

Took to the bush and became what you'd call a highway robber.

There was little g*ng of us.

We lived a wild free life of it.

'Sticking up a station from time to time, 'or stopping the wagon on the road from the diggings.

'The called me Black Jack of Ballarat.

'I believe they still remember the Ballarat g*ng in the colony.

'The wagon driver was McCarthy and I spared him.'

Get out of it!

Go on!

Shift!

Do a Botany!

Fast!

- Cor!

- 'We got away with the gold.'

My mate and I were wealthy men beyond the dreams of avarice.

There was...

There was...

There was a price on our heads.

I decided to make for England.

I determined to settle down to a quiet and respectable life.

I bought this estate.

It included the whole village, even this inn is mine.

I set myself to do a little good with my money to make up for the way in which I'd earned it.

I married and although my darling wife d*ed young, she left me my dear little Alice.

I was a happy man, you might say, until McCarthy laid his grip upon me.

He'd followed my trail.

When he first came here, he'd hardly a coat to his back or a boot to his foot.

"Here we are, Jack," he said.

"You can have the keeping of us.

"Me and my little boy.

"And if you don't, England's a fine, law-abiding country "and there's always a policeman handy."

I was a sitting duck for blackmail.

There was no shaking him off.

There was no rest, no peace, no forgetfulness.

Turn where I would, there was his cunning, grinning face at me elbow.

Whatever he wanted, he must have and whatever it was, I gave him without question.

Land, money, houses.

So at last he asked a thing I could not give.

He asked for Alice.

His son and my girl had grown up.

He knew I was in weak health.

Seemed a fine stroke to him that his son should step into the whole property.

But there I was firm.

I would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine.

Not that I had any dislike for the lad but his father's blood was in him and that was enough.

I stood firm.

McCarthy threatened.

I braved him to do his worst.

'We arranged to meet at the mere, halfway between our two houses 'to talk it over.'

James.

'As I listened to his talk, all that was black and bitter came uppermost.

'He was urging his son to marry my daughter 'with as little regard for what she might think as a slut from off the streets.'

- Father, we have been through...

- Do as I tell you, boy!

'It drove me mad to think all I held dear should be in the power of such a man.'

It's my life and I'm going to run it the way I like!

'I was a dying and desperate man.

'If I could silence that foul tongue, I could still save my family's reputation.'

Get off out of it!

I did it, Mr Holmes.

And I would do it again.

Deeply though I have sinned, I have lived a life of martyrdom to atone for it.

That my girl should become entangled in the same meshes which held me was more than I could suffer!

I struck him down with no more compunction than if he'd been some foul and venomous beast.

That is the true story, gentlemen.

Of all that occurred.

It is not for me to judge you, but I hope that we may never be exposed to such temptation.

I pray not, sir.

I'm a dying man.

I've had the diabetes for years.

My doctor says it's a question of whether I shall live a month.

Yet I'd rather die under me own roof than in a jail.

Young McCarthy must be got off, however.

God help me, but I wouldn't let that young man come to harm.

I'll give you my word I'd have spoken out if it went against him at the assizes.

I'm very glad to hear you say so.

I'd have spoken now had it not been for my dear girl.

It would break her heart...

It will break her heart when she hears that I'm arrested.

It may not come to that.

We are not the police.

I am no official agent.

I'm here at your daughter's request.

- Alice?

- Alice.

So what do you intend to do?

In view of your health, nothing.

You are aware you'll have to answer to a higher court than the assizes?

If young McCarthy's condemned, I shall be forced to use this confession.

If not...it will never be seen by mortal eye and your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe.

Farewell, then.

Your own deathbeds, when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace that you've given to mine.

Oh, God help us.

"Turner, John Stuart, th August, Boscombe Hall, Cheshire, "after a long illness bravely borne, beloved father of Alice." Now...we are free to use that confession at young McCarthy's trial.

No, by no means.

My promise was they would not be used unless McCarthy is condemned and I think I've given enough objections to ensure his acquittal.

I hope so.

Well done, James!

Well done!

- I love you.

- I love you, too.

Will you marry me?

Yes, I will.

A happy ending to a brilliant case.

I congratulate you, Holmes.

I thank you.

I must admit there were certain aspects to this case which even I did not anticipate.