Seven-Percent Solution, The (1976)

[bunniefuu]

It was October in the year ,

that I heard for the first time
in four months

from my friend Sherlock Holmes.

On this particular day, a telegram
from his landlady, Miss Hudson,

had been delivered to my surgery,

imploring me to return
to my former rooms without delay.

Oh, Dr. Watson,
thank heavens you've come!

I'm at my wits' end!

Why? What has happened?

Since you left us,
these last few months,

he's been very strange.

He's barricaded himself up there,

he won't take his food,

he keeps the oddest of hours.

I think he's taking...

Mrs. Hudson! I know there's someone
down there with you!

I heard the cab stop before the door.

- He keeps babbling on about some...
- Mrs. Hudson!

If that gentleman answer
to the name Moriarty,

you may show him up
and I will deal with him!

- I better go to him.
- Oh, be careful!

Moriarty...

was a name
I'd only known him to mutter

when in the thrall
of one of his cocaine injections.

- Is that you, Moriarty?
- It is I,Watson.

Watson?

You see it is I.

- Holmes, let me enter.
- Not so fast.

You may be Moriarty in disguise.

- Prove you are Watson.
- How on Earth am I to do that?

Tell me where I keep my tobacco.

Tobacco?

Well, as a rule, it's in the toe
of your Persian slipper.

Holmes!

Very well.

I'm satisfied.

I assure you, my dear fellow,
my plight is quite genuine.

What is it?

Have you ever heard
of Professor Moriarty?

You have! You must have!
I can see it in your face!

Holmes, I assure you...

Very well... very well.

But you see how it adds
to the genius of the thing!

That man pervades London,
the western world, even,

and no one has ever heard of him!

That man is my nemesis, Watson.

My evil genius.

Tea?

Thank you, yes.

Sit down, my dear fellow, sit down.

How have you been otherwise, Holmes?

Never better.

It's almost spring,
have you noticed?

With all this rain and fog,
you'd never think it.

For years past, Watson,
I've been continually conscious

of some power behind the malefactor.

Some deep, organizing power
which guides and inspires

crimes of the most varying sort...
Here you are.

Thank you very much.

Yes, it is rather wet weather.

I was saying it yesterday to Mary...

He's the Napoleon of crime, Watson!

He's the organizer
of half that is evil

and nearly all that's undetected
in this great city,

in the annual of contemporary crime.

You see, he's a genius.

He's a philosopher.

An abstract thinker.

He sits, motionless like a spider
in the center of his web.

But that web has a thousand radiations.

And he knows well
each and every quiver of them.

Oh, his agent may be caught,
but he...

He is never so much as suspected!

Until now, that is.

Until I...

his archenemy...

managed to deduce his existence

and penetrate his perimeters.

And now, his minions,
having discovered my success,

are on my track.

On my... on my track...
they are on my track!

But, Holmes,

What do you propose to do?

Do?

Well, for the moment
I think I shall nap.

Nap?

It would cast an unworthy shadow
on a great man's memory,

for me to detail what effects
this horrible drug

had produced upon his faculties.

I returned home grappling with
Holmes' fantasies concerning Moriarty

when I discovered a gentleman
answering to that name

in my consulting room.

Oh! You startled me.

Dr. Watson, is it?

Professor Moriarty.

To what do I owe the honor
of this late visit?

Oh, I apologize for the hour,
but I wish to be discreet.

My business is urgent.

- Here...
-Thank you.

I... I come to you sir,

because I know
from your published accounts

that you are Mr. Sherlock Holmes'
most intimate acquaintance.

I enjoy that distinction, yes.

Then perhaps you could help me
to avert a scandal.

Doctor...

Your friend is...

well...

persecuting me
is the only way I can put it.

Persecuting you?

I don't know how else to say it.

He follows me about London,

dogs my steps,

waits for me
outside the Roylot School.

I... I'm a teacher in mathematics.

And-- Oh, yes!
And he... he sends me these.

"Moriarty, your days are numbered".

That sort of thing.

Doctor, Mr. Holmes is convinced
that I am some sort of...

criminal mastermind
of the most depraved order.

Oh, I know he is a great
and a good man.

All England resounds with his praise.

But in my case,
he fosters a ghastly illusion,

and I've come to you as his friend,

rather than turning the matter
over to my solicitor.

No, no, no,
that'll not be necessary.

My friend is not in health, that is all.

You see, had you known him

when he was in full possession
of his faculties...

Oh, but I did.

- But how?
- I knew both the boys,

Sherlock and his brother Mycroft.
I was their tutor

at Squire Holmes' state in Sussex.

Brilliant lads they were!

Oh, the Holmes brothers.

I should've liked to go on, but...

then came... the tragedy.

Tragedy?

What tragedy?

You mean you...

you don't know?

I assure you Holmes has never spoken
of his family or his early life.

I've met his brother, of course.

He lives at his club in Pall Mall.

Oh well, if Master Sherlock
hasn't told you,

then I fail to be-- see that I
should be the one to divulge...

- Professor...
- Oh, no, no, no!

I cannot, will not be indiscreet
in this matter.

I only came to you because...

I needed so badly your help
to end this most embarrassing thing.

Good evening, Doctor.

My dear John, what is to be done?

Only one thing, Mary...

Thank you, Jenny.

Holmes, must be weaned
of his cocaine addiction.

There is only one man in Europe
who is in a position to help us.

A doctor in Vienna,
he wrote this article in The Lancet.

I've cabled him regarding Holmes.
He's replied to my cable,

and he agrees to help,

provided we can get him to Vienna.

Vienna?

He will never go there.

You know he does not like
to leave London.

He says it generates an unhealthy
excitement in the criminal classes

- when they learn he's abroad.
-True.

But, we shall provide him
with an incentive he can't resist.

A false trail convincing him that
Moriarty has fled to the continent.

I know how Holmes thinks, you see.

I've sorted it all out.

Of course you have.

Would you please tell Mr. Holmes
to be silent?

I did not know Mycroft Holmes well.

I remember being astonished
when, after seven years,

Holmes informed me of his existence.

Beyond the fact that both brothers
were brilliant, however,

the similarity ended.

Mycroft Holmes preferred to live out
an eccentric bachelorhood

circumscribed by the walls
of his club,

beyond whose confines
he was rarely known to venture.

Dr. Watson, is it?

Indeed I am, sir.

I have not seen you
since that unhappy affair

of the Greek interpreter.

Mr. Holmes.

Tell me, what urgent business
have you that concerns my brother?

What's happened to him?

How do you know
anything has happened to him?

I've not seen you these three years,

and then it was in the company
of Sherlock,

whose doings I know you chronicle.

Suddenly you pay me a visit at a time
when most married men

are at home with their wives...

and you arrive without your alter ego,

and your medical bag,

although I know
from your own statements in print

that you've resumed your practice.

Your face is drawn and haggard,
proclaiming a problem of some sort.

And it is not too long a sh*t to infer

that my brother is
the cause of your distress.

Tell me.

In as few words as possible,

I told him of his brother's condition,

and the promising article
in The Lancet.

When I mentioned the visitor
to my consulting room,

he flushed uncomfortably.

Professor Moriarty?

He appears to know both of you
from the time...

Quite!

And you believe this Viennese doctor
can help him?

The medical profession, you see,
is willfully ignorant

of the problems of addiction.

He appears to have made
a study of it,

in addition to his other work,
hysteria in children.

Peculiar range of interest, isn't it?

He sounds Jewish.

Mr. Holmes...

time is of the essence!

At the rate your brother
is using cocaine

he'll be dead within the year.

And I have no idea how on earth
we could get him to the continent.

- No idea.
-That, you may leave to me.

And Professor Moriarty as well.

- Do you have his address?
- Indeed, yes.

Ah, Jenkins, we shall need a cab.

Yes, sir.

This'll do, cabby. Stop here, will you?

- Just wait a minute, will you?
- Right, sir.

This is more than a street
from the Professor's house.

If what you say is true, however...

it's as well to be discreet.

You see?

He is keeping watch.

- Now what?
- I don't know.

Wait a minute!

Now, quickly.

- May we come in?
-Yes.

Pray, do not adjust the gas,
Professor.

My brother may return
at any moment.

Do not do to let him see
any alterations in your rooms.

Oh, very well.

What do you want?

This is the most ungodly hour
to come calling.

I want you to take
a brief leave of absence

from the Roylot school.

No more than three days.

And journey to the address
on that piece of paper.

Three days?

In the memory
of our past association.

But this is far...

We know where it is, sir,
I give you my word.

And when I get there,

what do you wish me to do?

I wish you to disappear completely.

Come back and then resume your post.

- Nothing more.
- Resume my post...

if it's still there.

Really, this is asking really
altogether too much.

I hardly think so.

I have no great desire
to rake up the past, Professor.

But I'm perfectly capable of it.

Well, of course, if you put it like that,
I have very little choice.

When must I leave?

Now.

John, dear, this telegram
just arrived for you.

It has begun.

Yes.

I must bustle.

Can your practice
spare you for a few days?

The game is afoot, and your assistance
will prove invaluable.

Bring Toby to , Munrow Road,
Hammersmith.

Take precautions. Holmes.

What does he mean,
"take precautions"?

But surely that won't be necessary.

I've always followed
his instructions to the letter.

Ask Collingwood to take my rounds
for me, will you?

When will you return?

I can't say. Would you, please?

I'm off to fetch Toby now.

Any further questions?

Just one. Who is Toby?

Toby is a bloodhound.

Readers may recall Toby's
remarkable powers,

from my account of them in
The Sign of the Four,

in which his superior olfactory sense

was materially responsible
for the capture of Jonathan Small

and his horrible companion.

More recently,

Holmes had employed Toby
to trace an orangutan

in the sewers of Marseille.

It was a case which,
though I have omitted to set down,

was not without features of interest.

Holmes!

Holmes!

Where are you, Holmes?

No need to track, Watson.
I'm right here.

- Hello, Toby.
- Oh, good God!

Forgive me, my dear fellow.

But you know I cannot resist
a touch of the dramatic.

And the setting was so perfect,

that I succumbed to temptation.

This way, Watson.

- The Professor has bolted.
- Moriarty?

Non other.This is his house
on the corner.

I've stayed my nights
keeping watch on it.

But last night I made
a fatal error...

and relaxed my vigil long enough
to pay a visit

to the pub at the end of the road.

Mind the vanilla extract!

You mustn't worry.
I've not lost my wits,

but you might have stepped in it.

Now, come forward now,
carefully, now, now!

Smell.

It is vanilla extract.

Much better than creosote
for following.

Go on, Toby, sniff it, boy, sniff it.

I poured this here when I
so improvidently abandoned

my post last night.

And it worked better than I
could have hoped, you see?

Here is his foot, that stepped
into it as he got into the carriage,

and this narrow slit

is the carriage wheel itself.

Now, Toby, follow the wheel.

Watson, get the bags!
We're off!

Where do you expect
this trail to lead?

I assure you
I haven't the faintest idea.

I only know that at some point Toby
will exhibit some confusion.

That will be when the wheel
of the cab we are following

and the Professor's foot
go their separate ways.

Don't smoke my dear fellow.

The animal has enough
to content with as it is.

Sorry.

Where are we?

Victoria, I think. Yes.

Come on. Come on Toby!

Like Gloucester at the end
of his cliff, eh, Watson?

Yes, yes.

What now?

And now, if you would be so kind,
find out what time the next...

Continental Boat Express...

leaves for Europe.

I, in the meantime, will remove
what remains of this disguise.

I cannot visit the continent looking
like a dustman.

- And the hound?
- Oh, we'll take him with us.

I don't think we've exhausted
his usefulness quite yet.

Porter!

Straight away!

I fear the fog has delayed us.

Yes, true, true,
but it has also delayed him.

Now, where have they put
my Gladstone?

There it is.

Here you are.

Thank you, sir.

Would you excuse me, my clear fellow?
I'll be back in a moment.

There was no point in remonstrating
about Holmes' use of cocaine.

In fact, until we reached Austria,

I was ironically dependent upon it.

Every time the train stopped,

we provided Toby with the remainder
of the vanilla extract from a bottle,

and proceeded to promenade with him
around the stations,

always without success.

It was at the station of Linz
that an incident occurred

which, though seemingly unimportant
at the time,

was not without significance later.

Stop!

Saved from a provenation, Watson.

Conductor, whose private coach
belongs to that private carpet?

They all belong to the Amin Pasha,
gentlemen.

- The train is leaving.
- And who might that be?

Be? Why, he is the Premier
of the entire Ottoman Empire.

And he's the man who broke
the bank at Monte Carlo.

I hope Toby hasn't made
some ghastly mistake.

Or else this would be the wildest
goose chase in history.

I have every faith in that nose.

In all my working years
as a detective,

I've never known anything like it.

Now, Watson,

wherever our path leads
will take us to Vienna.

I didn't realize Vienna was so lovely.

Charming. It would appear
the Professor engaged a cab.

- Oddly surprising
- But unfortunate.

How can we proceed, Holmes?

I did not lose my faith entirely
in the nose of our singular friend.

I just merely refuse
to get him out until I must.

Now come on,Toby,
earn yourself a Viennese schnitzel.

Surely he can't find him.

Well, you may be entirely correct,
Watson,

but don't forget that cabs
that cater to the railway trade

invariably return to the terminal

after they've dispensed with their fare.

At least that tends to be the rule
in London.

Let us find out if the same rule
applies in the continent.

Well, To by?

No, it's hopeless. He's lost the scent.

Very well, Watson, let's go to a hotel.

Cab!

YES, Toby?

I think he's onto something.

He's found it. He's found it!

Invaluable creature.

Sometime in the last twelve hours,

you picked up a fare here:

small man of advancing years, very pale.

Ja.

Very well, take us to his destination.

If I can remember where.

Let me refresh your memory.

Now it comes to me.

How fortunate. Watson, the luggage.

Toby, you're a genius.

We are the last thing he expects.
What a confrontation, eh?

Why do you suppose Moriarty's chosen
to visit Vienna of all places?

I have no idea, I assure you.

I say, Watson, you're very pale.
What's the matter? Are you ill?

No, no. I don't think so.

- This is where you brought him?
- Ja, to this house.

Very well.

Well, Watson?

Good boy, Toby.

Good boy.

Holmes, there's something
I think you should know.

Not now, Watson.
We mustn't disturb his concentration.

But, Holmes.

We are here to see Professor Moriarty.

- Herr Professor who?
-This is Sherlock Holmes.

Herr Holmes. Come in.

I will take your coat.

You will follow me, please.

This way.

You come.

- We appear to be expected.
- Yes.

You will wait in here, please,
and I will call Herr Doctor.

I will take der hund,

and give to him the something
to eat,ja?

Thank you, I think not.

Holmes, surely no harm
will come to Toby.

The Professor would never dare
anything so precipitated.

You think not? Perhaps not.

Very well.

But no bones, mind, you understand?

- No bones.
- No bones,ja, no bones.

Come with me, hund.

Come, come.

Well, Watson,
what do you make of it?

I don't know what to make of it.
Do you?

Good morning, Herr Holmes.

And you too, Dr. Watson.

I am happy to welcome you gentlemen
to my house.

You may remove that ludicrous beard,

and kindly refrain from employing

that ridiculous comic operetta accent.

I warn you, you best confess

or it will go bad for you,
Professor Moriarty.

My name is Sigmund Freud.

You are not Moriarty.

But Moriarty was here.

- Where is he now?
- He's in a hotel I believe.

I see.

You knew of this deception
from the first, Watson.

You are the last person
I would have suspected

capable of betraying me to my enemies.

You do your friend an injustice,
Herr Holmes.

He and your brother
paid Professor Moriarty

to journey here,

in the hope that you would follow him
to my door.

- And why did they do that?
- Because they were sure,

it was the only way
that they could induce you to see me.

And why were they so eager
for that particular event?

What reason occurs to you?

Who am I, that your friends
should wish us to meet?

Beyond the fact that you are
a brilliant Jewish physician,

who was born in Hungary and studied
for a while in Paris,

and that certain radical
theories of yours

have alienated the respectable
medical community,

so that you have severed your
connections with various hospitals

and branches of the medical fraternity.

Beyond this, I can deduce little.

You are married, with a child of .

You enjoy Shakespeare
and possess a sense of honor.

This is wonderful.

Commonplace.

I'm still awaiting an explanation.

But first you must tell me how
you guessed the details of my life

with such uncanny accuracy.

I never guess.
It is an appalling habit,

destructive to the logical faculty.

A private study

is an ideal place for observing
facets of a man's character.

That the study belongs to you
exclusively

is evident from the dust.

Not even the maid is permitted here,

or she would scarcely have ventured
to let matters come to this pass.

Go on.

Very well.

Now, when a man collects books
on a subject,

they're usually grouped together,

but notice, your King James Bible,
your Book of Mormon,

and Koran are separate--

across the room, in fact,
from your Hebrew Bible and Talmud,

which sit on your desk.

Now, these books have
a special importance for you,

not connected with the general study
of religion, obviously.

The nine-branch candelabra
on top of your desk

confirms my suspicions that you are
of the Jewish faith.

It is called a menorah, is it not?

- Ja.
-That you studied medicine in Paris

is to be inferred
from the great number

of medical texts in that language.

Where else would a German use
French textbooks but in France?

And, who but a brilliant German

could understand the complexities
of medicine in a foreign tongue.

That you're fond of Shakespeare
is to be deduced

from this book
which is lying face downwards.

The fact that you have not adjusted
the volumes suggests to my mind

that you no doubt intend to referring
to it again in the near future.

Not my favorite play.

The absence of dust on the cover
would confirm this hypothesis.

That you're a physician is evident

when I observe you maintain
a consulting room.

Your separation from various societies

is indicated by these blank spaces
surrounding your diploma,

clearly used at one time to display
additional certificates.

Now, what can it be that forces a man

to remove these testimonials
to his success?

Why, only that he has ceased
to affiliate himself

with these various societies,
hospitals, and so forth.

And why do this, having once
troubled to join them all?

It is possible that he became
disenchanted with one or two of them,

but not likely that his disillusionment
extended to all.

Rather, I postulate it is they who
became disenchanted with you, Doctor,

and asked you to resign from all of them.

Why? I have no idea.

But some position you have taken,
evidently a medical one,

has discredited you in their eyes.

I take the liberty of inferring a...

theory of some sort,
too radical or shocking

to gain ready acceptance
in current medical thinking.

Your wedding ring tells me
of your marriage.

Your balkanized accent
hints Hungary or Moravia.

The toy soldier on the floor here
ought, I think,

to belong to a small boy of .

Have I omitted anything
of importance?

My sense of honor.

Well, it is implied

by the fact that you have removed
the plaques

from the societies
to which you no longer belong.

In the privacy of your study,
only you would know the difference.

And now I think it is to you
to do some explaining.

In candor, I ask you again
why I have been brought here.

- You cannot guess?
- I never guess.

I cannot think.

Then it is you and not I who is
being less than candid, Herr Holmes.

For you are suffering from
an abominable addiction.

And you choose to wrong
your brother

and your friend, who have combined
to help you throw off its yoke.

You disappoint me, sir.

Can you be the man I've come
to admire not merely for his brain

but for his passion for justice?

In your heart of hearts, surely
you must acknowledge your illness.

And your hypocrisy in condemning
your staunch friends.

I have been guilty of these things...

I make no excuse.

But as for help, you must put it
from your minds, all of you...

I have summoned all my will
to the task, and it's no use.

My feet are on the inexorable path
to destruction.

A man may sometimes retrace
his steps.

Not from the fiendish coils
of drug addiction. No man can do it.

I have.

I've taken cocaine,
and I'm free from its power.

It is now my intention to help others.

If you will allow me, I will help you.

You cannot do this.

I can.

It will take time,
and it will not be pleasant.

For the duration, I've arranged for
both of you to stay here as guests.

Would that be agreeable to you?

It's no use, even now I'm overcome
by this hideous compulsion.

I can reduce this compulsion
for a while.

Do you know anything
of the practice of hypnotism?

You propose to make me bark
like a dog and crawl about the floor?

Through hypnosis, I will banish
your craving when it exerts itself.

In this way, we shall artificially
reduce your addiction

until the chemistry of your body
does it naturally.

Now, I want you to keep your eyes
fastened upon this as it swings.

I want you to think of nothing else.

Nothing else.

Quickly, we must search
his possessions.

Doctor, I think I have it.

Don't be certain.
This is not an ordinary patient.

- It's water.
- Can it be?

Then, where?

Too heavy, too heavy.

Oh, Doctor.

When and where did Herr Holmes
begin using cocaine?

And do you have any idea why?

For as long as I've known him,
he's used it.

I believe he begun by taking it
between cases to relieve the ennui.

- A seven percent solution.
-To relieve the ennui, the boredom?

How did you become interested
in the drug?

It's a sideline of mine, not directly
connected with my researches.

A friend of mine d*ed last year

as the result of its horrible properties.
I was partly responsible.

I wrote a paper on it afterwards.

The piece I chanced upon
in The Lancet.

Ja.

You are mainly involved
in research, then?

I was trained as a neuropathologist,

with a background
in localized diagnosis,

but there is no formal designation
for what I am now.

I began by mapping
the nervous system,

but I became interested
in charting the mind itself.

I'm interested in an area of the brain
I call the unconscious.

The unconscious?

You are an alienist.

I'm interested in hysterical cases,

and I use hypnosis
to dig into their unconscious mind

where I believe
the hysterical symptoms originate.

For example...

Herr Holmes' dependency on cocaine
strikes me as a symptom.

Not a hysterical one, I grant you,
but nonetheless a symptom.

An effect, rather than a cause.

What makes you say that?

Well, it's elementary my clear fellow.

Knowing something, as I do,
about dr*gs and drug addiction,

I do not believe that a man succumbs
to their negative appeal

out of mere boredom.

A snake!

A snake!

For pity's sake! Do you see it, Watson?

- What's that noise?
- Don't worry, dear.

Doctor, may I present my wife?

A pleasure, madam.

- Freda.
- Yes, madam.

Watson! Do you see it?
You see it, Watson?

It's a swamp adder.

The deadliest snake in India.

It's there! Get away!

There's a snake here.

There's a snake in the grass.

I'm so sorry.

- I'm so sorry.
- Yes...

You had a dream?

A dream...

Yes...

Strange...

I don't often remember them.

But this one you do?

Yes.

- And it was about a snake?
- Yes.

A snake... that's right.

I dreamt about a case I once
had attempted to solve.

A rather diabolic plot,

to m*rder a young lady.

You did?

Watson and I...

stood vigilant by her bedside.

The snake came down a bell rope
by her bed,

through a false vent in the ceiling.

Every night, the m*rder*r would...
let it come down...

until, one night...

she most inevitably succumbed to it.

You and Dr. Watson,
you... scorched the snake?

Yes.

But in my dream,

a very curious thing...

The viper...

turned into Professor Moriarty.

It's odd, don't you think?

Strange, yes.

Professor Moriarty?

Do you place much stock in dreams,
Doctor?

I don't know what dreams tell.

Lately I have been toying
with the idea that...

You see it?

Do you see it?

Watson! Watson!

- Watson, let me go!
- Holmes!

The snake!
You don't understand!

You insufferable cr*pple!

Sherlock Holmes' attempt to escape
the coils of the cocaine,

in which he was so deeply enmeshed,

was perhaps the most harrowing
and heroic effort

I have ever witnessed.

In both my professional
and personal experience,

in both m*llitary and civilian life,

I can recall nothing...

to equal the sheer agony of it.

How long will he have to suffer?

It all depends to what extent he has
saturated his system with the drug.

- Could it be very dangerous, this process?
- Yes.

- How dangerous?
- He can die.

No, no, no!
Herr Holmes, please, go back to bed!

Go back to bed.

Please, you need rest.

Good morning.

A little breakfast, Herr Holmes?

Your fever is broken, and your pulse
is normal today, Herr Holmes.

How do you feel?

Not well.

Yes, you do.
You are much improved.

In fact, today we are going to
force some food into you.

Do you remember Professor Moriarty?

My evil genius.

Yes. What of him?

I know what you want me
to say, Doctor.

Very well, I shall oblige you.

The only time...

Professor Moriarty truly occupied
the role of my nemesis...

was when it took him...

three weeks to make clear to me
the mysteries of elementary calculus.

I'm not so much interested
in hearing you say it,

as in your understanding it to be true.

I understand it.

Good.

Watson, is that you?

Come closer.

I don't remember very much of the...

past few hours.

Or was it days?

But I seem to recall...

shouting at you...

terrible things.

Did I do that, or did I just imagine it?

You just imagined it, my dear fellow.

Because... if I did do that...

I want you to know...

that I did not mean it.

You hear me?

I did not mean it.

Holmes...

Come, Doctor,
I think he is going to sleep.

He'll be all right, won't he?

Perhaps.

He will need hypnosis
periodically, still.

What troubles you?
We are not being successful?

Perhaps.

There is an old maxim that warns

of the cure being worse
than the disease.

Come Doctor, we owe ourselves
an hour or two of fresh air.

In order to effect what
I would describe as a total cure,

it is necessary to trace the origin
of his compulsion.

The reason for his use of cocaine.

If we cannot exorcise the reason,

then he will continue susceptible.

How does one do that?

By, using the same method that
your friend uses

when he solves a mystery...

Well!

Jews in Maunberg.

This place has gone downhill
since I was here last.

You haven't been here in quite some
time, sir, that much is evident.

In the last five years,
the Jewish membership of Maunberg

has gone up fifty percent.

This is the same Dr. Freud...

Dr. Freud?

Not the same Dr. Freud
who was asked to leave

the staff of the Algemain Krankenhaus

because of his charming assertion that
young men sleep with their mothers.

By the way, Doctor,
did you sleep with your mother?

Cheers!

If you would step out, mein herr,

my seconds will call upon you
at your convenience.

Your quarrel is with me, sir.
He merely called the challenge.

I've challenged him for myself.

Please, Doctor,
let me fight my own battles.

Well?

As you wish, Herr Doctor.

- Do you know who I am?
- I do not know who you are,

but I know what you are.

And that is quite sufficient.

I am the Baron Von Leinsdorf.

And I am the injured party.

The choice of weapons is mine...

and the time is now.

I feel dreadful for getting you into this.

- Can you b*at him?
- I doubt it.

But at least we have avoided dueling.

Men must find less violent methods
of resolving their differences.

- But if you loose...
- My dear fellow, it's only a game.

Would you wager on the outcome
of this match, Herr Doctor?

I prefer not to cloud the issue.

Spin for sides, please, gentlemen.

Rough.

One set to the best of five games.

-love.

-love.

Freud gave up point after point.

Though, as the play continued,
his game improved.

Nein!

The Baron leads two games to one.

Lovely.

You did rather better that last game.

I hope to do better still.
Have you seen his backhand?

- It's terrible.
- Yes.

Love- .

His backhand,
his backhand.

- .

- .

Very good.

- .

In a contest as surprising
as any I had ever witnessed,

intellect prevailed over brute strength.

Game, set and match to Dr. Freud.

Very well done. Congratulations.

Is honor satisfied?

Perhaps you would care
for some dessert, Herr Holmes?

Some strudel?

Oh, thank you, no.

I have something for you,
Herr Holmes.

It's not a Stradivarius.

It belonged to an uncle of mine,

but I thought you might like to use it
while you are here.

Thank you for this.

Eat some strudel, Herr Holmes.

Siggy, a special envoy
from the hospital is here.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

He says it's an emergency.

Holmes, really, you must take
some nourishment.

Attempted su1c1de.

My coat, please.

I'm all right for the moment.

That remains to be seen.

Your craving could reassert itself
at any moment.

I think you'd rather come with me.

It may prove instructive.

Come on, Holmes.
I'll get your hat and coat.

She's lucky to be alive,
if you want my opinion, Dr. Freud.

She threw herself off
the Olgarten Bridge last night

and into the canal
before anyone could prevent her.

We put her under sedation
when she was brought in.

It should be wearing off now.

There she is.

- But isn't that...
- Precisely.

Lola Deveraux, whose head of red hair

was, till recently,
the toast of four continents.

That lady possessed a remarkable
mezzo soprano,

and displayed a fondness for lilies,
did she not?

A passion.
She was surrounded by them.

So much so that she called herself
the Lady of the Lilies.

She was a patient of mine
some months ago.

Remarkable woman.

But see, Herr Holmes,
where the ravages of cocaine lead.

I thought I had cured her.

You did.

I cured her?

She's had a terrible relapse
and tried to destroy herself.

I think I've never seen anything
so fiendish.

Fiendish? What do you mean?

She has not relapsed voluntarily.

See gentlemen, these bruise marks
on the lady's wrists and ankles,

She's been bound hand and foot,
and force-fed with dr*gs.

What?

Only her own courage
and determination

enabled her to escape confinement.