Sherlock Holmes - The Norwood Builder

It's your photograph for a woman. Yes. New today, it was from somethings for me.

I, he came to join me with his cast on the morning of the wedding to Mr. Miss Arlen.

Have you ever told your father? I just want to call. Why?

Because if the police were to learn that you care, they would mark it down as providing

an additional look at my hint of murder, doesn't it? But no case was too hopeless for my friend Sherlock Holmes

when he was defending the life of an innocent man. My name is Watson.

Dr. Watson. And it was my privilege to show the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

I would tell you what happened in the case of the Norwood Doodle. Hardly any case began more abruptly

as you may judge yourself in the room.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you mustn't blame me. I'm really mad.

Mr. Holmes, I am the unhappy John Hector McFarland. Have a cigarette, Mr. McFarland.

I'm sure that with your symptoms, my friend Dr. Watson here would prescribe a visit.

Mr. Holmes. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I do beg your pardon. But the young gentleman don't stand on the head of me.

Don't worry, Mrs. Hudson. Just leave us, please.

Very well, sir.

Now, Mr. McFarland, you mentioned your name if it I should recognize it.

But I assure you that beyond the obvious facts that you are a bachelor, a solicitor, and a fee Mason,

I know nothing, whatever, about you. But if you know all those things,

then purely from observation, I assure you.

The, may I say, the untightiness of your attire, the chief of legal documents protruding from the jacket pocket,

the Masonic watch charm. Quite straightforward, eh, Watson?

Quite, quite. I'm all of those. And in addition, I'm the most unfortunate man in London at this moment.

I appeal to you, Mr. Holmes, if you come to arrest me before I finish telling you my story,

make the end of me time to tell you the whole truth.

I'll arrest you. I'm not sure.

For the murder of Mr. Jonas, only could have gone out.

The hell, him?

True, Watson.

It was only a moment ago, Mr. McFarland, that I was remarking to my friend that sensational cases

had quite disappeared out of our newspaper.

Is that so? Then you haven't looked very closely at that one there, have you?

See? On the very front page.

Indeed.

Eh, Watson, it will be so good.

Eh, sir, may I have him?

Mysterious affair at Lear Norwood, suspicion of murder and osmen.

There, about two o'clock last night, an alarm was given at a stack of tympoms on fire,

the year Mr. Jonas Odecker, a woman, builder of Lear Norwood.

The engines were soon upon the spot, but it would impossible to arrest the conflagration

until the stack had been entirely consumed.

Surprise was expressed to the absence of the owner of the establishment,

and investigation revealed that a murderous struggle had a parent that taken place in his study,

where slight traces of blood were found.

An open walking stick from the war bloodstone on its handle and the safe

had been opened and papers scattered about the room.

It is known that Mr. Odecker received a visit yesterday evening,

a young London solicitor named John Hector McFallon,

who is now being sought by the police for his help in their enquiries.

He was, you see, now we got the stoppers.

They are below what here, yes.

Yes.

Police, their evict him was cut to death in his room, papers rifled and dead body dragged across wood pile,

which would then ignite answers to hide all places of the crime.

Great heavens.

Yes, the case has certainly some points of interest.

May I ask Mr. McFallon how it is that you're still at liberty?

I live with my parents at Black Sheep,

but last night, having to do business with Mr. Odecker late in the evening,

I statement who tell at Norwood,

I knew nothing of this affair until I read that newspaper account of the train to the city,

and I hurried at once to put the case in your hands.

As a matter of fact, I swear a man followed me out of London bitch station.

John Hector McFallon, I arrest you for the moveful murder of Mr. Jones Odecker.

Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.

Very good.

Now McFallon, it's my duty to warn you that anything you say will be taken down and made you put in evidence in this train.

This gentleman is on the point of giving us an account of the affair,

which might aid in tearing it up.

All right, McFallon.

Get on with this for it.

I must explain first that I knew nothing of John Odecker except that my parents had been acquainted with them many years ago.

So I was very much surprised to get a request to go out to his home yesterday evening and advise him on a legal matter.

Well, I got to his house soon after nine,

and was let in by a middle-aged woman.

His housekeeper, I should have been there.

My dear young sir, do come in.

Thank you sir.

A big part, shall I step on out?

In a few minutes, Mrs. Dickington.

I'll just equate my young friend here with the business I have for him,

and then we can discuss it further over the meal.

Will that suit you, Mr. McFallon?

Anything you say, Mr. Odecker?

Very good, sir.

Very good of you to come all this way, Mr. McFallon.

I knew your parents many years ago, you know.

I have heard your name.

I know, dog, no dog.

Well now, to come straight to the point,

I ask you here this evening to attend to my will.

I see if you'll read the will for yourself through this cover.

Why, I said for you.

Very well.

Here it is.

Thank you.

John Odecker.

It's shortened to the point, you see.

Oh, Mr. Odecker.

This will leave your entire estate to me.

I am the most deserving recipient, so my inquire is a firm.

But I don't understand.

It's quite straightforward, my dear young sir.

I am a bachelor with hardly a living relation in the world.

I knew your parents in my youth.

As yourself, I have always heard it said that you are diligent and thoroughly deserving.

Therefore, I choose to make you my heir.

I don't know what to say.

Now, sit here, sure me, as a lawyer, that the will is in proper form.

I shall sign it.

Mrs. Lexington shall witness, and then we'll have supper.

With the greatest pleasures of a number of papers,

tied to these morbidly script and so on, which I should like you to examine,

you will inherit them all someday, and a few words of purification now

will save you in the searching when that time comes.

May that time be long delayed.

I share your wish, Mr. McFarland.

I think everything is taken into account now.

I'll put all these papers back in the safe when you've gone.

Oh, goodness me, it's nearly midnight.

It's been a pleasure, sir, indeed.

Oh, I don't go that way if you don't mind, sir.

But the doors creak, and I shouldn't wish to disturb Mrs. Lexington.

Unnecessarily, sir.

If you wouldn't mind the French window, of course not.

I did have a tear somewhere, I'm sure.

Have you misdeed something?

My stick.

Yes, I'm sure I had it with me.

You did?

I don't recall.

Well, my boy, I should see a good deal of you now, I hope.

The actual stick turns up our keep it here until you can come back to claim it.

It'll be a great pleasure, sir.

I'll let you know.

The safe open, the papers and packets on the table.

It was too late to get home, so I spent the night in a hotel in Norwood.

I knew nothing more until I read of this horrible affair in the morning paper.

All right then.

And I'm sir, anything you'd like to ask?

Not until I've been to Blacksheet.

Oh, yes, no doubt that is what I must admit.

Constable.

Constable.

Sir, take him away.

I'll follow later.

Mr. Home.

I shall do everything I can, Mr. McFarlane.

Thank you, sir.

I put my trust in you this way.

Will, Mr. Holmes.

The case is not clear to me yet, the Strayed.

What about you, Watson?

Well, looks pretty quick up to me, I'm afraid.

Exactly, Dr. Watson.

My goodness, Strayed, you don't add imagination to your other great qualities.

But if you could, for one moment, put yourself in this young man's place.

Would you choose the very night that will have been signed to commit your crime?

Wouldn't it seem dangerous to you to make a very closer relation between the two incidents?

Well, no.

Would you choose a location when you're known to be in the house by the servant who'll let you in?

And would you really take the greatest pains to conceal the body?

And yet leave your own stick lying about as a sign that you were the criminal?

Confess to Strayed, it's all very unlikely.

If you know as well as I do, the criminal is often flooded and dusting the cool man would avoid.

Suppose some tramp, lurking in the garden, had seen the document stare in the room

with a safe wide open and papers all over the table, exit the solicitor, enter the tramp.

He teases a stick which he finds there, kills though they ca' burns his body and the parts.

But why should a tramp burn the body?

Why should the fallen get rid of some evidence?

Possibly the tramp wanted to conceal the fact that any murder at all had been committed.

Why did the tramp take nothing?

Because he found they were just papers he couldn't negotiate.

Well, Mr. Holmes, you look for your tramp.

Just remember one thing, though.

So far as his known, none of those papers were removed.

And our prisoners were one man in the world who had every reason to leave them all there intact.

Since he'd soon elated them anyway.

I don't deny that the evidence favors your theory strongly, Mr. Strayed.

I only wish to point out that there are other theories possible.

Well, on as they go.

They're left.

And looking at Norway, if you're passing, and see how they get gone.

Who by gentlemen?

A good pilot.

Strayed.

Well, he's got a strong face, home.

How awesome.

If you kindly help me with my coat.

Oh, certainly.

Will you do it?

Bless me, as I said.

Well, I'll just get my coat in.

No, no, no, no, my dear fellow.

I don't think you can help me.

Oh, boy.

Berlin?

There's no prospect of danger.

I shouldn't dream of staring without you.

I suspect that when I see you again this evening,

I shall have been able to do something for this song.

You shall have your hand.

Thank you.

You'll be back longer, girl.

It's all going wrong, Watson.

Really?

British Jury's have not yet attained that pitch of intelligence

intelligence where they'll give preference to my theories over the straits facts.

Did you go to black youth?

I did.

Young McFarlane's father was away, but his mother was at home.

A little fluffy blue-eyed person.

Oh, son, it's not guilty, Mr. Holmes.

I wouldn't have been saving the possibility of it.

As the door is so deep, you're facing neither surprises nor distracting me.

Oh, Mrs. McFarlane.

He was a more like a malignant and cunning aide for my human being.

Oh, even as a young man, I can't see that man.

As a god, this dead is a blessing.

You knew him from his youth?

Oh, I knew him well.

He was asking me to marry him.

I haven't had the best of you.

What was his answer to that?

He asked for sure, huh?

I was in the show.

And so?

No, no, no.

What do you think of us, Mr. Holmes?

It's your photograph.

Thoroughlyn, yes.

Newtilated with some sharpens too.

Hi, he sent it to me with his cush on the morning of my wedding to Mr. McFarlane.

The scene.

Have you ever chose your son with him?

I didn't see him.

Why?

Because if the police were to learn that you had,

they would mark it down as providing an additional motive for him to have murdered this man.

Revenge for his past cruelty.

Mr. Holmes, my son did not chose Jonas Olde.

Well, at least it could be argued that he was cast away until the end as was white side for Thoroughlyn.

Though they can't let all his property or son.

Neither my son nor I want anything from Jonas Olde, they could dare to rely.

Nothing, Mr. Holmes.

Nothing.

Now all you've got was more evidence against your part.

Nothing to help our own hypothesis, certainly.

Well, what'd you do off there?

I went to Olde's place.

They'd just made a great treasure trove.

What about kind of treasure?

Closed a button.

Closed a button.

They'd spent the morning raking among the ashes of the burnt wood pile.

And a number of Closed a buttons had come to life.

Mrs. Lexington, the housekeeper swore they were once she'd sewn on to Olde's.

Mrs. Lexington, eh?

Did you have a word with her home?

I did, Watson.

And I'm convinced that she could tell us something if she wanted to.

A little dark woman, as close as Wes.

I guess I'd like to talk to you for our past nine, Mr. Holmes.

And I wish now my hand had withed it where I could tell the store not to eat.

Yes, yes, Mrs. Lexington.

I appreciate your distress.

Over to the hospital, Mr. Lexington.

Mrs. Lexington, what time do you yourself retire a bit?

Half past 10.

Outside, here's where there's that thing you've washed out.

And where is your word with the relation of Mr. Olde's sister?

At the fire end of the house, I heard nothing about her.

What do you work here, eventually?

People banged on the door with the alarm of fire.

I'm racing, I wish now.

I could steal the dress, but it didn't.

So could the fire.

Look, look, look, look, it's terrible.

It's terrible.

I'd amazing to think of her sleeping right through a death struggle like that.

True, Watson.

I feed it in my bones, but that's something that hasn't come out.

I could read it in her eyes.

That's sort of stucky defines, which only goes with guilty knowledge.

But unless some lucky Jones comes our way, I fear that the case of a Norwood builder

will not figure in the chronicle of our successes.

That's true.

I wish I could suggest something home.

If there is one curious little point, I examine Olde's bank book amongst the other papers.

She's balanced, struck me as rather small for a man as such means.

So I looked back to be introduced during the last year.

I found that a number of large checks have been made out to a Mr. Cornelius.

Who she?

I don't know.

His name didn't appear in any of the documents.

Donnie, but what is it, Mrs. Hudson?

A telegram for you, Mr. Holmes.

Oh, thank you.

Is there a reply, sir?

No, no, thank you.

Very good, sir.

Well, that appears to be that.

From the Strait?

Yes.

Important fresh evidence to hand.

McFarlane's guilt definitely established, advised you to abandon the case.

It's the Straits Little Cocked Noodle of Dictates, and yet it may be premature to abandon the case.

Important fresh evidence could be a two-edged thing.

It may just possibly cut in a very different direction from the one the Strait imagined.

Come along, my dear fellow.

I feel in need of your company and model support today.

We'll go out to Norwood.

And see what we can do.

Have you found your trebbed?

I have found no conclusion, whatever, the Strait.

In step this way, gentlemen.

And I think I could convince you once and for all.

See this, have that?

Yes.

Well, that's where young McFarlane will come out to get his head.

After the crime was done.

Now, I'll strike a light.

So gloomy in here.

Now, look at this.

A fingerprint in blood.

Actually, a thumbprint, doctor.

Look at you through your limbs, Mr. Holmes.

Yes, I'm doing so.

You are aware that do two thumbprints are alike?

I have heard something of the kind.

Now, let's hold this next to it.

The wets impression of McFarlane's thumb taken by my orders this morning.

Hmm.

That's funnel.

Yes, that's funnel.

It is final.

But what a evidential thing that this young man

should press his right thumb against the wall

and take his hat from the day.

Such a very natural action, too.

Oh, by the way, Lestrade, who made this remarkable discovery?

It was a housekeeper, Mrs. Ricksington.

But why didn't the police see this mark earlier?

I suppose there is no doubt that it was there earlier.

Hey?

No, I'll be about the place if you want me.

I've got a report to get on with.

But a point's about this development that

holds us some new hopes for him.

What?

I'd like you to hear that.

You see, there's one really serious flaw in this new discovery.

Do you know what is it?

No, it is.

But I know that thumbprint was not there

when I examined this whole earlier.

Good question.

Now, come along.

I wish to inspect this whole house inside and out.

And then we'll trouble the Strait

to grant us one final indulge.

Do you like Mr. Evans?

I understood that you were writing a report of this case.

So I am.

Do you think it might be a little premature?

What?

I can't help thinking that your evidence is not complete.

What do you mean, Mr. Evans?

Only that there's an important witness

whom you have not seen.

Who?

Can you reduce him?

I think I can.

How?

How many constable said you?

Two within call.

Both large, able-bodied men with powerful voices with power.

What have they ever wish he's got to do with it?

Can you summon them here and tell them

to bring a considerable cross-dave straw?

Straw?

They're spent here in the archives.

There are two bundles we'll do.

Oh, and a couple of buckets of water.

Now, if you have his bones, if you know something,

you can say it without always composing.

I assure you, my goodness, Strait,

that I have an excellent reason for everything I do.

Kindly ask the constables to bring the things

to the top landing of the house as soon as possible.

Now, just pile the straw together here, my goodness.

Right, you are, sir.

Now, we have the buckets and red in it.

Over here, just capping.

Will one of you open that window, please, sir?

Yes, it.

Watson?

Yes, Holmes?

Have you a box of matches about you?

Of course, sir.

There are.

Now, kindly put a match to the edge of that straw.

What?

Oh, sir, very well done.

Now, as the draft from the window carries the smooth

down the corridor, Mike, I ask you all to join

to the cry of fire.

Yes, sir, ma'am.

Now, ready?

One, two, three.

I probably once again.

Just once, ma'am, but then all together, Watson.

Oh.

Ah!

Hello.

What's in here?

For the love of Hettens, save me.

Hold him, someone.

Yes, sir.

Thank you for watching.

Now back in the water over that straw, if you please.

I am it.

Thank you, Watson.

Now, Lestry, I'd like me to present you

with your missing witness, Mr. Jonas Olbaca.

Hey, what?

Olbaca?

I've done no harm.

You've got nothing against me.

No harm.

You've done your best to get an innocent man paying,

fidgeting.

It was only my practical joke.

Oh, a joke, well, this.

You won't find the love on your side.

I promise you.

Constable, sir.

Take him downstairs in the city room until I come.

Is it?

Mr. Holmes, I.

You've saved an innocent man's life,

and you've prevented a scandal that, well,

about a ruin my reputation in the force.

Cheer up, Lestry.

Instead of being ruined, you'll find your reputation

enormously enhanced.

You mean you know what your name to appear?

Not at all.

The work is its own reward.

Well, now, let's see where that rat has been lurking.

And is that joy suddenly came out of him?

I never noticed it.

No, because it was so welcome-feel.

He's a builder, remember.

He here, this little partition, almost impossible

to distinguish.

He was able to fix up his own little hiding place

without any confederate.

Say that precious husky birth is,

by the way, I should lose no time in any 30 or bagel straight.

So what if she won't get far?

Yes, but Holmes, how in earth do you know he was in the house

at all?

The thumb mark.

I'd examined the whole the day before,

and the mark had not been there.

Therefore, it had been made since.

But McPhallibs are the lock and key.

When they were sealing those documents,

Old Acar got McPhallibs and secured one of the seals

by pressing his thumb into the hot wax.

Perhaps it wasn't even contrived delivered, Lestry.

But later, brooding in that hiding place of his,

Old Acar remembered it.

And it suddenly struck him what absolutely damning evidence

he could make against McPhallib by using that thumb mark.

It was the simplest thing in the world

to get his husky but affection the sealants of wax

from which he made an impression.

Then all he had to do was to moisten it

for as much blood as he could get from a thin prick

in his own finger and get her to impress the mark

on the wall when nobody was apart.

It's wonderful.

Clear as crystal when you put it like this.

But what she's all about, Mr. Holmes?

Ah, a very deep, malicious vindictive person

is the gentleman who's now waiting as downstairs.

You know that he was once refused by McPhallib's mother?

No.

No, I didn't know that.

You didn't?

I told you to go to Black Heath first.

The Lord would ask to.

Oh, dear, yes, honours, sir.

Well, this injury, as he would consider it,

has wrinkled in his wicked, scheming brain.

All his life, he's long for vengeance, but never seen his chance.

And now he suddenly finds himself in a bad way financially.

To save himself, he pays large checks

to a Mr. Cornelius, whom I've no doubt is himself.

He intended to disappear under that name.

That's escaping his credit as once and for all.

And contrived his death to put them off the scent,

but he didn't know where to stop, eh?

No.

That supreme gift of the artist was lacking.

He wished to improve what was already perfect

to draw the rope tight-a-yet around his victim's neck.

And in so doing, he ruined all diabolical.

Mr. Holmes, I congratulate you.

Now, let us descend the straight.

There are one or two questions, I would ask him.

It was a joke, my good sir.

I'm sure that you wouldn't be so unjust

as to imagine that I would have allowed any harm

to befall poor young Mr. McFarlane.

There's for the jury to decide.

And you will probably find that your creditors

will impose the banking account of Mr. Cornelius.

I have to thank you for a good deal, Mr. Holmes.

Perhaps I will pay my debt someday.

I've been saying that for some few years,

you will find your time very fully occupied.

But by the way, what was it you put into the wood pile

beside the trouser buckles?

A dead dog or a reddit, so what?

Oh, you won't tell.

You and me, how very unkind of it.

Well, well, if ever you write an account

of what's in it, you can make reddit.

Sir, your turn.

Oh, you're welcome.

In case of an awkward deal, though,

with one of the Sherlock Holmes stories,

you'll find the inspired dance of Arthur Conan Doyle.

My name, not my real name, is Norman Shelley.

My friend Carlton Hobbs Bay, Sherlock Holmes,

and I was Dr. Watson.

Michael Hardwick wrote the script for this BBC production

from London.

And I look forward to the pleasure of your company again soon

for more or of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.