Sherlock Holmes - Well Staged Murder

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From New York, the makers of flipper cramp clothes for men, and 924 leading retail stores from coast to coast,

present the world's most famous detective, Sherlock Holmes.

Our stories are based upon the character of Sherlock Holmes, created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Sherlock Holmes is portrayed by John Stanley, Dr. Watson by Alfred Shirley, and the dramatizations are by Edith Meiser.

And so tonight we make our way through a cold November rain to the cheerful, fire-lit study of our old friend, Dr. John Watson.

You know, Mr. Harris, I'm surprised and delighted to hear you mention my given name.

Everyone of course knows that Holmes first name is Sherlock, but to most people I'm just Dr. Watson.

To hear them talk, you might think I'd never been christened, but to draw up your chair to the fire.

It feels good to get in out of the wet, Dr.. Only a Sherlock Holmes adventure could lure me out in the night like this.

That's exactly what I used to say in the old, baker street days, Mr. Harris.

Yes, it brings some mind, the case that looked like a neat little murder in Tuftnell Park.

Two needs, as it turned out. If Holmes, the incurable skit-cheek hadn't happened along with the psychological moment,

the wrong man would have undoubtedly gone to the gallows.

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And now, Dr. Watson to get back to the neat little murder and tough little park.

Right, as a matter of fact, Holmes and I just missed being eyewitnesses to the shooting.

It was a night when the century was very young, a night very much like tonight,

rain with a bit of mist mixed in for good measure.

Holmes and I were taking slight constitutional.

You mean you were walking on a night like this for pleasure, Dr?

Well, you were out walking, Mr. Harris, to relieve the tension.

It had been raining for four days.

From Monday to Thursday, I doubt where it ceased for a moment.

Went for the fourth time after pushing my chair back from the vector's table.

I saw the heavy brown swirl condensing in oily drops on the window of pains.

I was ready to jump out of my skin.

Can't say I'll blame you.

Holmes nerves were irreposable.

It worked shape and mine.

He paced around all lamplits sitting room like a caged animal,

cursing under his breath in a fever of suppressed energy.

Finally, as evening drew in, he proclaimed he was going out for exercise

if he had to swim in the gutters.

We don't caps and alsters.

And after a certain amount of acrimonious discussion,

I persuaded Holmes into his overshoes and muffler.

For half an hour we stowed the streets in silence.

Little by little, our nerves relaxed.

And our case slackened.

By the time we stuttered a toss, cut me out park,

Holmes was feeling almost a level.

Nothing of interest in today's papers, I suppose Watson?

Oh, only news of the revolution, the possible war,

and an impending change of government.

Commonplace, Mario Watson.

Yes, the London criminal, certainly a dull fellow.

The fee for murderer could roam London on a night like this

as the tiger does his jungle, unseen till he punts his,

and then never did only to his victims.

Well, there have been a few petty thefts.

Petty thefts, pick pockets and handkerchief snatches.

The stage is set for something somber, sinister, violent.

Oh, I do wish you wouldn't run on like that, Holmes.

At least until we reach the other side of the park,

it's uncommonly dark in here tonight.

Yes, I was wondering if you've noticed that, Watson?

There should be a street lamp along here somewhere.

Either they lamp lighters neglected to light it up.

Hello, here's the lamp post.

There's glass scattered on the pavement.

The light's been put out.

Watson, you heard that.

It sounds like someone's shooting.

Let's be accurate Watson, there were two gunshots.

The second, I think, was particularly...

Holmes, Holmes, here comes a woman.

She's running along the path, she's terrified.

No one's here!

It's not me, Madam, can I be of assistance?

I'm Sherlock Holmes.

Thank you, even.

You're just the man I need.

It's murder.

Where?

I'll be here there.

There's an open circular space with a fountain,

and a new head all around.

I was walking towards it, when I saw a man rise up out of the bushes.

He shot at someone, sitting on a bench in front of the fountain.

And then he disappeared.

In which direction?

I don't know.

Oh, please, please save the man third.

I'll get a doctor, I'll be right back.

It won't be necessary.

My friend here is a medical man.

And judging by your cap and cape,

you're not unaquainted with a medical profession yourself.

No, I meet you at the St.Pain Christian Firmary.

Excellent. Come with us, we may need your assistance.

But shouldn't someone go for the police?

We mustn't let that murderer get away.

My dear Mrs.

Mrs. Sydney.

My dear Mrs. Sydney,

the first thing is to ascertain if it really is murder we're dealing with.

Well, the first thing is Holmes, if you'll pardon my sayings, sir,

is to save the victims' life if we can.

My dear Watson, for one side, agree with you.

Come along.

Thomas, Thomas, I'm short.

Here he is, Watson, on the ground, beside the bench.

Holmes, like some matchy, so I can have a look at him.

Good be not.

It's superintendent, Jackus.

He's Nick. He's been short, Nick.

Here, some afraid, it's serious.

Metron.

Of you?

I'm glad.

Have them get me to the St.Pain Firmary.

He's right. We have to operate.

Hurry, Mrs. Sydney. Tell him to send the ambulance and the stretcher.

Robert! Robert, what happened?

Robert, what have they done to you?

No, it's no where you are.

I was.

I came as quickly as I could.

They wouldn't let me off to you.

No, no, never mind that.

Go get help.

Tell them to ring the ambulance.

Oh, no, no, I want to stay with him.

What good would you be?

Just a probationer?

And the one he needs now.

To the love of heaven, someone girl,

we've got to get the bullet out of him.

He's beating himself away.

All right, I'll go, but I'll please don't let him die.

I think she's a nurse.

What does she know?

What does she know about anything?

What's him? Any more wounds beside the one in the neck?

Great Scott. No, that's enough, isn't it?

But about two shots, we heard two shots, Watson.

Don't bother me now, Holmes. Can't you see? I'm busy.

He was sitting on the bench. The bullet entered from the front.

The shot was fired from this direction.

That's right, Mr. Holmes.

The man came out of the bushes from over there.

He took two steps, and then I saw the plane skirt out a little over.

One, so twice.

Well, I don't.

Well, that is, once I'm sure it was only one.

It was George Schottman.

George McGow.

That spotted his cat in the dark over there.

He didn't.

How do we meet all afternoon?

I thought I'd shaken him off.

I wouldn't have kept it.

You're pointing with Nelly.

You know, I was in danger.

Vinny died.

So his cat came out of the bush.

Did you say anything? Did he threaten you?

No. Didn't say anything.

George Schottman.

What did his face look like if he came towards you?

She peeped him alone.

Can't you leave him alone?

That's right, sir. Don't try to talk.

Maybe I'll take him.

Every day I come here, you know.

Thank him for this.

It won't be long now, isn't it?

He's in here.

We brought the ambulance as close as we could to the path as much sooner or later.

Never mind the excuses, Nelly.

Bring the structure over here.

Yes, ma'am. Come on there.

All right. Down, George.

That's right, boys.

Now, easy, easy.

I'll take the shoulders and the head.

I brought the lantern.

Oh, you keep away from him.

Done enough harm already.

No, Nelly.

Come on.

Carry him to the ambulance.

Careful, keep that.

Let him take you full.

You've got his head lower than his head.

Watson, when you finished operating, be sure to save me the bullet.

I'm not interested in adding to your grisly souvenirs.

I'm not asking for a souvenir of Watson and demanding evidence.

Be sure I get that bullet.

So, my fault.

I shouldn't have said I'd meet him here tonight.

I knew old George had sped in Dr. Jefferson's when he was released today.

Who is old George, Miss Nelly?

And what did he have against the superintendent?

Well, nothing, really.

George McGown is just a tragic old man who drank too much

and couldn't get on with his family.

He had also stood as long as she could.

And then, she hadn't committed.

I see.

The first few days were pretty bad.

He had deep tears, you know.

And he kept yelling for his revolver to protect himself.

Fortunately, Dr. Jefferson taken the gun away from him

when old George arrived.

That's when he first took a dislike to Dr. Jefferson.

And even after he was better, he went on hating him.

Is Dr. Jefferson's generally disliked?

Oh, no. He's wonderful.

That is, well, I suppose it is strict.

But you have to be.

If you're in charge of a place like St. Pancras.

You wouldn't buy any chance to be prejudiced.

Well, I perhaps I am just a bit.

It's a secret.

But, well, Dr. Jefferson, I am engaged to be married.

Yes, I gathered as much.

Tell me, Miss Nelly, does anyone else suspect this attachment?

Oh, no, no. I'm sure no one does.

Dr. Jefferson's most particular.

None of the other nurses should find out.

He said it would be bad for hospital discipline.

I see. Tell me.

What did Dr. Jefferson do with Mr. McGown's revolver

when he took it away from him?

Oh, he put it in the safe.

That's what they always do with the patient's valuables when they arrive.

They're handed back, of course, when the patient is discharged.

You say George McGown was discharged today?

Yes, sir. At 10 o'clock this morning.

Did Dr. Jefferson return his revolver?

Oh, no, sir. That was what they had to rob out.

That's an old George's cap.

Hey, there you are.

I've been waiting in this harbour for me to discharge.

Well, here it is, George.

And how many times I have to tell you to take that cap off when you're in the house?

I'm wearing the bonnet because I'm ready to go.

Very well, then. It's you who goes straight home.

No, dropping in. Is that any pub on the way, mind you?

Huh? Well, what are you waiting for?

Have you yet to get my bag?

Yes, sir.

I've been waiting for you.

I've been waiting for you.

I've been waiting for you.

I've been waiting for you.

I've been waiting for you.

I've been waiting for you.

What are you waiting for?

Have you yet to get my bag for pistol?

Don't you think you're better off without it?

Who's to be the judge of that?

I've brought it with me from Graski.

Well, you're not going to get it.

If you're going to stand here arguing, take off that dirty cap.

It's no good, does it come?

This may find scotch upon it.

This amagaran carnivis have kept it on in the presence of better men than you be.

That will do, George.

I'm not allowed to talk to the superintendent like that.

Oh, I hate that.

Maidren, you and your nurses may be daft over this doctrine.

But they better look out for all George.

I'll get even with Mr. Superintendent Jeffers if it's the last thing I do.

I begged Dr. Jeffers to be careful, but he just laughed.

He said that the doctor was going to worry about all the patients that took a dislike to him.

He'd better give up medicine.

Or do you think they'll be able to save his life?

Dr. Jeffers, I mean.

Unfortunately, my dear Dr. Watson is a much better surgeon than he is a detective.

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Dr. Watson, why then?

Then you must be the great Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Haven't you guessed?

Well, no, I suppose I was so upset.

Then the light here is so dim tonight.

All I can really see is that peak cap of yours.

Yes, Dr. Jeffers says it would miss Mr. McGowan that shot him.

But I suspect all he saw in this light was a Scottish bonnet.

I rather imagine that was why the street lamp was extinguished.

Of course.

Old George hoped to get away without being recognized at all.

I wonder.

What are you looking for, Mr. Holmes?

I can't find this rain, it's ground my match.

We'll try another. Here I'll hold my cape over it.

Thanks.

Yes, that's better.

No footprints on this gravel can't find it.

Yes, hello, here we are just as I expected.

Right here on the ground under the you head,

a trifle water lawn but still recognizable.

Why, that's all George's cap.

He must have lost it in the excitement.

And look, there on the ground Mr. Holmes.

There is revolver too.

Don't touch it, whatever you do, don't touch it.

Don't want any unnecessary fingerprints.

I'll handle it with my muffler.

Good thing Watson will be and wearing it comes in useful after all.

Although what fingerprints we have are probably bad this smirred.

The gun has recently been discharged.

Yes, only one chamber has been emptied.

Interesting, very interesting.

But Mr. Holmes, Dr. Joseph is only one moon.

Right, right, two shots were fired, however. I heard them myself.

But I don't understand.

I'm not sure I do either. That is not entirely.

But I have a few rather definite suspicions which I shall endeavour to confirm.

How would you do that, Mr. Holmes?

By means of some experiments with this revolver

and with a bullet, Dr. Watson is even now removing from the neighbourhood

of your fiancé's jugular vein.

Yes, suppose we get along to some pancreas infirmary.

I'm counting on you to procure me some rather important information.

Anything I can do, Mr. Holmes, anything at all.

You can look through the files and get me Mr. McGown's home address.

I think a visit to his daughter is indicated.

Let's see, 17 berberine views.

17 years, here we are.

I'll have a date in the little villa.

I will.

What do you want?

Mr. McGown, I presume. I wonder if I might speak to your father for a moment.

No, you can't.

You didn't be afraid I'd come to harm him.

In fact, I think if you'll let me talk to him now before the authorities arrive.

Once you're too late, Holmes.

You'll not be playing ducks and drakes for the law this time.

Well, well.

If it isn't frustrating, the super snooper of Scotland Yacht.

You can laugh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

But this is one time we don't need your assistance.

I am here to arrest George McGown for the murder of super-tenant Jeffers of St. Pancreas infirmary.

You mean to say he's dead?

No, but for what the majorant tells me he will be before morning.

So I've come to arrest his murderer.

Don't you think you may be underrating both Dr. Watson and myself?

Oh, sir.

The super-entendant may pull through.

And it's just possible McGown is not the man who shot him.

Oh, no.

Super-entendant Jeffers.

Oh, and the meekers says you found McGown's cap and revolver.

A wendly six-seller on the scene of the crime.

What's more, and I've got the bullet.

They took out of Jeffers neck.

Possibly?

But what makes you think the bullet was fired from that particular revolver?

Well, it's the right size and caliber.

That's enough for me.

Furthermore, the young nurse tells me you made off with the gun in the cap.

I'd thank you to end him over.

So sorry, but I can't, you know.

Not until I've conducted a few rather important experiments.

So?

I've struck him along.

That's what it is.

You've almost stepped yourself this tie-downs into a mistake.

I'll have a warm swan out for your first thing in the morning.

Aren't you forgetting the real purpose of your visit here?

What's that?

The after-hending of your so-called murder on Mr. George McGown.

I don't need you to remind me of a duty.

Ah, now I'm in this.

Tell your father I want to see it.

He needs you.

Well, you can't.

But why not?

Because I didn't come home.

And if you had a set-year bond with you,

go and look for him lying drunk in some pub or some ale house.

Who would be in Texas for it, like you know?

Why didn't the keep him in the hospital till it was cured, eh?

And why don't you smart, Alex?

Main your own business.

I either bother you.

It seems Mr. McGown has put us both in the same class.

Congratulations, Mr. Todd.

You've been promoted.

You've grown to blazes.

And another thing.

You bring that cap and that revolver down to the yard first thing in the morning, eh?

And I'll see you put the hang bars.

You've made your little ultimatum, Mr. Todd.

Now I'll make mine.

You bring that bullet.

They took out of Dr. Jeffers' neck around the 221 B Baker Street before midnight tonight.

But I'll make you the laughing stock of London.

Oh, let's bluff.

You're bluff.

Possibly.

Who killed us, Todd?

I'll stake my reputation that that bullet was not fired from McGown's gun.

You can bring a warrant with the bullet.

If I'm wrong, you can arrest me for trying to conceal evidence.

Pretty sure, yourself, Arch.

All right, it's a deal.

I'll bring the warrant and the handcuffs.

All right, George, because it's clear, I can come out from behind the rain barrel.

Thank you, sir.

Well, you'll be for no turning me in.

Don't mention it.

Oh, just one thing.

Tell me the truth, George.

Did you shoot Superintendant Jeffers tonight in Tuplano Park?

So help me, sir.

I don't know.

I followed him all afternoon.

But it was that wet and aurora had to stop in again for a wee drop.

And pretty soon, aurora, I was in a bit of a fogger, you might say,

so I don't right there.

Remember what happened?

When I come to, I was aligning in the gutter with my bonnet gun.

I'm a hand here covered with blood.

He could be me in blood, sir.

I've got a nasty cut over my left eye.

Let's hope it is your own blood, George.

If it's not, we should both then end up in jail.

Oh, what's in the name of commons since you think you're doing?

Shooting?

That's obvious.

I may say it was obvious the moment I turned a corner of Meribon Road.

What's the idea of target practice this hour of the night?

This is not target practice, Watson.

You'll notice I'm shooting into a large cylinder filled with cotton wool.

To the little experiment whereby I hope to convince in spectacular strut

that Baker Street is more sitient than scoffal yarn.

Oh, that, if I'm not mistaken, is the Indian of the law in person?

Oh, I'll go down.

Don't bother Watson, I told Mrs. Hudson we were expecting a midnight corner, she'll let him in.

Yes, it's 12 o'clock.

Come in, Lestrade.

Come in, your front is itself.

Where are those?

I brought the bullet.

And the end coach.

Fair enough.

Now here, take this chair here by the microscope.

I'll turn the lamp up a little higher.

Now then, if you'll give Dr. Watson the bullet, he expected from Dr. Jeffers neck

and allow him to place it under the lens.

All right, but now I keep thinking, mind.

Oh, really?

By the way, Dr. Watson, how is the victim? Did you pull in through?

Well, I'm dead, someone is interested.

I left Dr. Jeffers resting quietly, thank you.

Holmes never thought to inquire.

My dear Watson, I have every confidence in your medical ability.

No, what I'm really curious about is the pattern of the marks on this bullet.

Pardon me, will I focus the lens?

Yes, now let's see.

I thought so.

I thought so.

He may know what you're talking about, Dr. Watson, but I'm completely in the dark.

How about you?

How confess, Lestrade, I'm quite frequently in your predicament.

But it's also childishly simple.

This bullet could not possibly have been fired from George McGowan's revolver.

The bore patterns are entirely different.

Oh, what?

You're even about.

Here, look at the microscope while I explain in words of one syllable.

I'm looking.

Your head.

Notice the pattern of lines, holes, and scratches on that bullet.

Fix them well in your mind.

All right, I'm doing it.

A few years ago, Lestrade, I persuaded Scotland Yard to take up the science of fingerprinting.

Fingerprints are now recognized the one-shore method of identification.

No two sets of fingerprints can possibly be alike.

Grows it.

I'd like to introduce you to the science of ballistics.

Oh, what's that?

Every gun that's capable of firing a bullet leaves on that bullet a pattern of its own.

The pattern that's as individual as a man's fingerprints and is incapable of duplication.

Now, Watson, if you'll dig one of the bullets fired from Mr. McGowan's webbley,

out of that cotton wool.

All right.

You'll have a look at it under the microscope.

Here you are, Holmes.

Lestrade, you memorize the pattern made by the killer's revolver on the bullet.

Now, have a look at this one fired from old George's gun.

Great, Scotch, all right.

They're different.

Different is night and day.

Therefore, the webbley did not fire the shot that was supposed to kill the superintendent,

and McGowan is not the potential killer.

But look here, Holmes.

You just had to look at the second bullet yourself.

What made you so sure earlier this evening that McGowan wasn't guilty?

Now, for one thing the state was too carefully set.

Why was the street clamp extinguished?

So Jeffers couldn't really recognize the person who wore McGowan's cap.

Why were both the cap and the revolver left at the scene of the crime?

To incriminate old George?

Fortunately to be him, McGowan was the one person who couldn't possibly have fired the webbley.

Because it was carefully locked in the hospital safe.

But who could have taken it from the state?

Almost any of the offices of the hospital staff, I imagine.

Or are going to resign out, which one?

By paying a return visit to the hospital, Lestrade.

Whoever fired that shot will be quite chagrin to learn it wasn't fatal.

I rather suspect a second attempt will be made on Dr. Jeffers' life.

A very near future.

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What's in which wing of the hospital have they put Dr. Jarros?

He's on the ground floor over there to the left with the lightest burning.

Good, the windows partly open.

You should be able to stand behind those bushes and see and without being observed.

Come along this time.

I'm common.

Why are you doing that?

Here we are.

We can see over the sill.

Nurse has a back turn, if you won't notice.

Everything seems to be quiet enough. Jeff has just moved his hand.

He's coming out of the ether, I imagine.

Color looks good.

Buy out the doors opening.

It's the majorum.

She's coming in with a glass of something in her hand.

I've brought him some mourn greatness.

Why don't you go have your supper now?

There's a kettle boiling in the pantry.

I'll sit with him for a while.

The nurse is leaving.

You're the majorum smoothing out the covers.

Robert.

Robert, can you hear me?

He's opening his eyes.

You're going to live Robert.

They saved you.

I sought death.

I wish the one that found you.

That went to me, he'd have fled today.

You were a fool to throw me over for that young nurse.

Metron.

Life is like that.

Couldn't help it.

We love each other.

Going to be married.

Sorry.

Don't worry about it.

What is to be is to be.

Here, bring this.

To make you feel better.

Jefferson, don't touch that glass.

What are you doing here?

It came back to prevent you from making a second attempt on Dr. Chappell's life

and to find out why you made the first.

Watson helped the stride over the sill before he strangled himself.

Yes, Metron, you've just given us the strongest motive that exists for murder.

Jealousy.

You'll think you're a smuff with their homes.

You can't prove anything.

You'll never find my fingerprints on any revolver.

And you'll never find the revolver.

The stride here knows you can't convict anyone without proof.

I think the contents of that glass will prove you tried to murder Dr. Jeffers.

Take the glass away from him and stride quick before she left you.

Good Lord.

You have drank it home.

And drank it yourself.

Oh, there was nothing homes or I could do, Mr. Harris.

That glass contained a very lethal dose of plastic acid.

She was dead inside of two minutes.

Good Lord.

Tell me, Dr. Watson.

When did Sherlock Holmes first suspect the mate from the trying to kill Dr. Jeffers?

Well, almost at once or perhaps I should say, from the moment we entered the circle of you hedge

that surrounded the fountain.

You may not know it, Mr. Harris, but a good English you hedge is as impertables of brick wall

and much more impossible to scale.

There was only one entrance to that circle.

The one through which the mates and ran practically into our arms.

Nobody else could have passed without all seeing him.

Consequently, nobody else was in the circle with Dr. Jeffers when he was shot.

It had to be the mates and who fared the revolver.

Who fared the two revolvers, I should say.

The one to incriminate George McGowan and the other to do the job.

Thank you, Dr. Watson.

And now, what is in store for us for next week?

Well, now let me see.

I think I'll tell you how Holmes unearthed the stolen naval treaty that threatened the piece of Europe.

It involves a careless young employee of the British foreign office, a beautiful lady with a lamp and a mist shrouded garden.

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