Elsie, what's the matter?
Elsie!
So, Watson.
Hmm.
You do not propose to invest in South African securities?
How on earth do you know that?
Now, confess, you are utterly taken aback.
I am!
I should make you sign a paper to that effect.
Because in a few minutes you will say
it is all so absurdly simple.
I should say nothing of the kind!
You see, my dear Watson, it is not really difficult
to construct a series of inferences,
each dependent upon its predecessor
and each simple in itself.
If, after doing so,
one simply knocks out the central inferences
and presents one's audience
with the starting point and the conclusion,
one may produce a startling
though possibly a meretricious, effect.
I can tell by an inspection of the groove
between your left forefinger and thumb,
that you have decided not to invest your small capital
in the gold fields.
I can see no connection.
Very likely not,
but I can quickly give you a close connection.
Here are the missing links in the very simple chain.
You had chalk between your forefinger and thumb
when you returned from the club last night.
You put chalk there when you play billiards, to ease the cue.
You never play billiards except with Thurston.
Now, Thurston, you told me, four weeks ago,
had an option on some South African security
which expired in a month, and which he desired you to share with him.
Your checkbook is locked in my drawer,
and you have not asked for the key.
So, you do not propose to invest your money in that manner.
How absurdly simple!
Quite so.
Every problem is absurdly simple when it is explained to you.
Bum, bum, bum, bum.
Holmes, why are you so cheerful?
You're unemployed, you have no case to solve.
Now, normally that produces black moods
and the infernal lethargy of the cocaine bottle.
You have not used the logical principles
which I constantly expound.
Sherlock Holmes is cheerful,
so, Sherlock Holmes must have a case.
Pa!
See what you can make of that, friend Watson.
Why, Holmes, it's a child's drawing.
Ah, is that your idea?
Well, what else should it be?
Well, that is what a Mr. Hilton Cubitt,
of Ridling Thorpe Manor, Derbyshire, is anxious to know.
That conundrum came by the first post,
and he is to follow by the next train.
Hilton Cubitt.
No, no, I have already looked him up, Watson.
His family has owned land in Derbyshire for over 500 years,
so I presume that Mr. Cubitt is as respectable as he is worthy.
With a fresh face, an open countenance,
and wearing a brown bowler hat.
Oh, no, you cannot possibly know that.
Really, Holmes?
Uh, you will stay and keep a record of the case?
My dear fellow.
Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.
This way, Mr. Cubitt.
Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Hilton Cubitt.
And this is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson.
Dr. Watson, sir.
How do you do? Do sit down, Mr. Cubitt.
Thank you.
So, what do you make of it, gentlemen? This thing.
Have you had time to study it?
Absurd little figures dancing in a line,
it's a childish prank.
Why do you attach importance to something so trivial?
I don't, Mr. Holmes.
I... I never should.
No, it's... it's my wife, you see.
She...
Go on, Mr. Cubitt, you're with friends.
But it's... it's frightened her almost to death.
She says nothing, tries to appear normal,
but I've never seen anyone so upset.
In white chalk on a garden seat, it is a precise copy?
Oh, it's as exact as I could make it.
I did think it might be the stable boy,
but the lad denied it,
If there's any danger threatening my wife, Mr. Holmes,
I'd spend my last penny to protect her.
Do sit down, Mr. Cubitt.
Do you smoke, Mr. Cubitt?
Uh, yes.
Uh, no, no, no, I won't, thank you.
Tell us about your wife, Mr. Cubitt.
Well, uh, I've always lived in Derbyshire,
Ridling Thorpe Manor, near Matlock.
I was a bachelor and thought I'd remain one
until three years ago I came down to London on a visit.
It's a rare thing for me, but-
well, I had a mind to see the Queen's Golden Jubilee.
I put up at a boardinghouse in Russell Square,
because Parker, he's the vicar of our parish,
he was staying there.
There was also a young American lady staying there,
Patrick was her name, Elsie Patrick.
We were both alone, and we became friends,
did the sites and that.
At your expense?
Certainly not.
Are you suggesting...
No, he's not, Mr. Cubitt, not at all.
Was this Miss Elsie Patrick in London merely for the Jubilee?
No, no, no, she'd been here some time.
She'd tired of America, traveled about,
and finally settled in England.
Well, not to make a labor of it, before my holiday was over,
I was as much in love as any man ever has been.
To my surprise and joy, she-
she reciprocated my feelings, and we were married.
Excellent.
Quietly, in a... in a Register Office.
You think I'm mad, Mr. Holmes, taking a wife in such a fashion,
knowing nothing about her?
Explain, Mr. Cubitt, and come to the point!
Oh, uh, yes, in fact, it was on the very day of our marriage.
Nothing could have made me unhappy, nothing on that day.
But now I look back, it was odd.
Elsie?
There is something I have to say to you, Hilton.
We don't want to be late, my dear.
I've put it off till now.
But I must still give you the chance to change your mind.
Elsie, what in the world?
Let me finish!
And what I say, I do mean.
I love you dearly,
but you know nothing of my life before we met.
I never asked.
One of the things which has made me so fond of you.
If you marry me, Hilton, I promise you marry a woman
who has nothing personally to be ashamed of.
But you'll have to take my word for it,
and allow me to be silent forever
as to my life before we met.
If that's too much to ask,
then you must go back to your Derbyshire
and leave me to the lonely life in which you found me.
It's little enough to ask, and I shall never let you go.
These have been the happiest three years of my life.
And when did the first cloud
cover the sun of this great happiness?
You have a way of putting things, Mr. Holmes.
And you have a way of prevaricating with your answers, Mr. Cubitt.
Well, it was, uh, some months ago, May in fact.
Hilton?
Hello!
Here, in the drawing room!
Well, what do you think?
Yes, great improvement!
Thank you, Saunders.
I met the postman, saved him a journey.
Here's a bill.
Here's one for you, an American stamp, Chicago.
Oh!
I hope lunch is ready, I'm ravenous.
She burned the letter, unopened?
Yes, I don't know why.
Of course you don't.
America is her past, and the subject of a solemn promise.
Yes, but she's not had an easy hour from that moment.
If only she'd trust me.
Now, I have every faith in her, you must believe that.
Whatever there was in her past, I'm sure it's no fault of hers.
And the dancing men?
Oh, yes,
Well, I thought she was getting over the letter,
and then these... these drawings appeared
It's just a childish scrawl,
but it made everything worse than before.
Well, I couldn't just leave it.
And it wasn't the sort of thing I could take to the police
for they would have laughed at me,
so I've come to you.
Don't you think, Mr. Cubitt,
that your best plan would be
to make a direct appeal to your wife,
and ask her to share her secret with you?
A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes.
If Elsie wishes to tell me, then she will.
But I have no right to force a confidence.
However, I do feel entitled to take my own line, and I will.
Then I will help you with all my heart.
Have you seen or heard of any strangers in the neighborhood?
No, no, I haven't.
Some of the farmers take in lodgers,
but I've not heard of any lately.
Then I suggest that you return to Derbyshire, Mr. Cubitt,
and keep a sharp lookout.
And make an exact copy
of any fresh dancing men that may appear.
Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I will.
Oh, and Mr. Cubitt,
this letter which started your wife's torment,
you are quite certain that it was from the United States?
Yeah, the postmark was Chicago.
Goodbye! And don't worry.
It's perfectly natural
she should receive a letter from America,
she's from America.
Yes, but it is not natural to throw it onto the fire unopened.
Ah.
It's beginning to look like semaphore.
You have read my monograph on secret ciphers?
Some of it.
I found it rather heavy going.
It evidently has a meaning
If it is purely arbitrary, it may be impossible to solve.
However, if it is systematic,
we should be able to get to the bottom of it.
But we need more messages, and preferably long ones.
Well, I doubt if Hilton Cubitt would agree with that.
Walker.
Do you know anything about this?
No, sir.
I've not been out in the front all day.
Has Mrs. Cubitt been out here?
I've no way of knowing, have I, sir?
When I've done this, I want you to wash it off,
and tell no one about it, and then come to me.
I shall have an urgent letter for you to post.
Elsie?
Elsie,
what are you doing?
I was looking for you.
I thought I heard the door.
Have you been out today, out of the house?
Hilton, come to bed,
everything will look better in the morning.
Will the drawings look better?
Will the dancing men look better?
Why do they fuss you so?
Fuss me?
They're just a joke, a bit of mischief!
The moon's high.
Where I come from, they say a moon like that drives you crazy.
Why don't we travel, Hilton, why don't we go away?
I love this place as much as I love you.
Hilton...
What did you see?
Nothing, nothing at all!
Please, dearest.
Hilton, I beg you!
There's somebody outside.
Hilton!
Hilton, wait!
You'll come to harm!
Or are you afraid he will come to harm?!
These two are identical.
Yes.
Well, I had that one washed off,
then it must have reappeared.
You know, it's a pity you didn't get a closer look at this chap.
If only she hadn't tried to stop me.
I've never been angry with her before,
but she knew who was out there, of that I'm sure.
And she knows what these figures mean.
Was this a mere addition to this,
or did it appear to be entirely separate?
That was on a separate panel of the door.
Well, I know what I'm going to do,
I shall go home,
sit with half a dozen of my lads in the shrubbery,
and if this fellow calls again,
give him such a thrashing he'll leave us alone in the future.
Well, that would be one way.
Mr. Cubitt, this case is too deep for such a simple remedy.
I must go now if I'm to catch my train.
I'd not leave Elsie alone at night.
Elsie!
Quite right,
Good day, Mr. Cubitt.
We will join you in a couple of days, and be patient!
Good bye, Dr. Watson.
I'll find my own way,
Bye.
You weren't exactly sympathetic.
He doesn't come to me for sympathy.
It is a considerable challenge,
I shall work better for silence.
Oh, well,
I dare say I can find something quiet to do.
Whoa, sit.
Where did you find this?
Down by the garden bench.
Will that, uh, mean
you'll be wanting me to take another letter for London, sir?
Very well.
I'll have to get a move on if I'm gonna catch the last post.
Walker, just do what you're told!
Yes, Watson?
Uh, I thought you might like the Times, Holmes.
What do you make of my progress?
Well, it still doesn't mean very much, does it?
Quite enough for me to send a telegram to the United States.
What on earth does that mean, "ABESLANE"?
Watson, if this is E,
flag denotes the end of words,
Mm, this grouse is superb.
Mrs. Hudson has really surpassed herself this time.
What time is the last train to Matlock?
I'm afraid we've missed it.
Holmes, I do wish you would try and eat a bite.
I just need an answer to my telegram from America,
and the story is complete.
Abe, I wanna stay, and I'm going to stay.
What about your friends in Chicago?
What about your family?!
Friends do you call them,
killers, robbers, extortionists, some family.
But you and I were engaged!
I'm sorry, Abe, my father forced me into it.
How could I be happy with you in that life?!
Please go away, please, I beg you.
You beg me?
Yes.
Hilton is such a good man.
It would break my heart if scandal ever touched him.
Here's money.
It's all that I have.
No!
Watson?
What the devil is going on?
An answer to your telegram?
No, it's another letter from Hilton Cubitt.
"ELSIE"
"PRE-PARE."
Mr. Holmes, sir.
Thank you.
It's from Wilson Hargreave, of the Chicago Police Bureau.
"In reply to your inquiry,"
"Abe Slaney is one of the most dangerous men in Chicago."
Come along, come along,
There's a cab!
Ridling Thorpe Manor, gentlemen?
As fast as you can!
How do you know?
Bet you're the surgeon from London, sir.
I beg your pardon, what makes you...
She's not dead yet, sir.
You may be able to save her, but she's for the gallows.
The gallows?!
Right, sir, she murdered her husband.
Inspector of Police, and Doctor of Medicine, I perceive?
Yes, indeed, Inspector Martin, Derbyshire Constabulary.
And I am Dr. Carthew, the surgeon.
This way, gentlemen.
This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
and I am his friend and colleague, Dr. Watson.
Mr. Holmes, but what do you know of this business?
A good deal.
Mr. Hilton Cubitt was my client.
But the crime was only committed at 3:00 o'clock this morning.
How could you hear of it in London
and get to the spot as soon as I?
I anticipated it.
We came in hope of preventing it.
Then you must have important evidence
of which I am ignorant.
Only the evidence of the dancing men.
The dancing men?
I will explain all that to you later.
Since we are too late to prevent this tragedy,
I am anxious to insure that justice is done.
Will you associate me in your investigation,
or will you prefer that I should act independently?
I should be proud for us to work together, Mr. Holmes.
But I must warn you, there seems very little to investigate.
Mr. Hilton Cubitt has been shot through the heart and he's dead.
And Mrs. Cubitt?
Seriously wounded.
The bullet passed through the front of her brain,
and she's still unconscious.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
Only one gun has been found, lying on the floor between them.
Two bullets have been fired.
With respect, Mr. Holmes.
It seems quite clear that Mrs. Cubitt murdered her husband
and then turned the gun upon herself.
But they were a most devoted couple!
The murder room is through here, Mr. Holmes.
No, I would like to start by interviewing the servants.
And I beg you, nothing
absolutely nothing is to be moved.
Is this the way to the kitchen?
I should think it must have happened about
3:00 o'clock in the morning, sir.
Where are your rooms?
On top, sir.
The attics!
I was awoke by this terrible bang,
an explosion is the only word.
And about a minute later...
It was less than a minute.
- There was another bang, only not so loud.
What did you do?
We came downstairs, sir,
expecting to find Mr. Cubitt up and about,
chasing burglars or the house on fire, or...
And the bedroom door was open.
We looked in but the bed was empty so we came on down.
There was smoke,
and the smell was worse down here.
Smell?
Ah, you mean of the gunpowder?
I suppose it was, sir, yes.
Now, you say the smell was worse downstairs.
Could you also smell gunpowder upstairs?
Yes, sir.
I commend that fact
very carefully to your attention, Inspector.
Mrs. King...
would you like to sit down, Mrs. King?
Now, was the library door open when you reached it?
Open, yes, sir.
We could see the candle alight on the table and so we came in.
Then, oh dear,
as terrible a thing as ever I saw or ever fear to see
She was terrible wounded, sir.
She was moaning and groaning
then she sort of collapsed on the floor
and she hasn't said anything since.
Saunders?
We moved her to her bedroom, sir,
and sent Fred Walker for the doctor and the police.
And there was no sign of a break-in, or of an intruder?
No, sir.
And all the doors and windows was locked,
as we had left them when we went to bed.
Inspector...
Oh, yes...
Apart from poor Mrs. Cubitt,
nothing else has been moved?
No, sir.
No, we've touched nothing Mr. Holmes.
Thank you. Then I think we can proceed.
Almost instantaneous death, presumably.
Mm, straight through the heart.
The bullet's still there.
What about the bullet that wounded Mrs. Cubitt?
That's still in her, as well.
It will take hands more nimble than mine to move it.
Is this Mrs. Cubitt's handbag?
Yes, it is, Mr. Holmes.
At least twenty 50-pound notes,
a bribe that failed.
So, two bullets fired,
two wounds inflicted, as you said.
Yes, Doctor.
Then how do you account for the bullet
that has so obviously struck the window frame?
By George, however did you see that?
Because, Dr. Carthew, I looked for it.
Wonderful, why, the bullet's still there!
So a third shot must have been fired.
Which means that a third person must have been present.
Exactly!
When you came into this room last night,
you say that the door was ajar. Was not that window also open?
I don't know, sir.
No, sir.
It was shut.
Saunders, will you and Cook wait in the library,
and you, Walker.
Dr. Carthew, you may remove the body.
It was Mrs. Cubitt herself who shut that window.
If Saunders and the Cook smelled smoke and gunpowder upstairs,
then there must have been a strong through draft.
Otherwise, it would not have spread so quickly
through the house.
We know that door was open
that window, too, must also have been open,
but only for a short time.
Why only for a short time?
Because the candles have not gutted.
There is no trail of wax.
Wonderful, wonderful!
If the late Mr. Hilton Cubitt
fired the bullet which pierced the window frame,
he must have been aiming at
someone who was standing either inside
or just outside the window.
Oh, thank you, Inspector.
Which means that the bullet which killed Mr. Cubitt
could have been fired by...
Inspector, your thoughts and mine agree entirely.
This is the cartridge case
of the bullet which killed Mr. Hilton Cubitt.
Holmes,
if three shots were fired,
why did Mrs. King and Saunders only hear two shots?
They were telling the truth, but lied without realizing it.
I'm not sure that I follow you.
You remember what Mrs. King said
"I was awoken by this terrible bang, an explosion,"
"it is the only word"
"And then a minute later"
"there was another bang but not so loud."
The first bang was two shots, fired almost simultaneously.
One from the window, which killed Hilton Cubitt,
and one from Hilton Cubitt,
which missed and went into the window frame.
And the third shot?
The saddest of all, Mrs. Cubitt,
self-ad ministered in her despair.
Now, do any of you know of an inn in the neighborhood
called Elrige's?
There's a farmer of that name, lives some miles off,
in the direction of uh, Milbrook
Is it a lonely farm?
Very lonely, sir.
Then it is just possible
that the news of what happened here last night
has not reached them.
Maybe not, sir.
Excellent
Walker,
I want you to take this note
to a Mr. Abe Slaney of Elrige's Farm.
Do not say that the note is from me,
and make no mention of what happened here last night.
Now, you understand?
Yes, sir
Thank you, Walker.
I am expecting a visitor in answer to my note.
Now, Saunders, he will ask for Mrs. Cubitt.
I want you to show him into this room.
I want this house to look quite normal,
and you must not give anything away of what has happened.
Very good, sir.
Now, I suggest you return to your duties.
And, Dr. Carthew, I suggest you return to your patient.
Oh, Mrs. King,
your mistress is quite innocent.
But how did you break the code?
Well, you see.
The rules which guide us in deciphering all secret writing
depend on the fact that E,
E is the most common letter in the English language.
So, you see, we were very fortunate
that Mrs. Cubitt's name was Elsie,
and that it featured in the second message,
which gave us not only the E but the L, the S and the I.
Now, next, it seemed likely to us
that two of the messages were appeals of some sort
to Mrs. Cubitt...
by adding the T and the G, the message reads-
"AT ELRIGE'S, COME ELSIE."
Well, if this Abe Slaney is indeed the murderer,
we must make an immediate move to arrest him.
Calm yourself, Inspector.
I expect him here at any moment.
But why should Slaney come here?
Because I have written and asked him.
But won't his suspicions be roused?
Will he not try to escape?
Saunders?
Excuse me, sir, there's a gentleman approaching the house.
Do you think he'd be armed?
He's a fool if he's not.
Good day, sir.
Is Mrs. Cubitt at home?
I'll inquire, sir, if you'll step inside.
What name shall I say?
Tell her it's an old friend. She's expecting me.
If you'll wait in the library a moment.
Well, gentlemen, it looks like you've got the drop on me,
but what the hell is going on?
Abe Slaney, I believe.
What if I am, and who are you, anyway?
My name would mean nothing to you,
though I suspect that of Wilson Hargreave
of the Chicago Police Department, will.
Ah, I see that it does.
Mr. Slaney, you should know
that Mrs. Elsie Cubitt is very seriously ill.
I don't believe you.
This is some cheap trick.
Mrs. Elsie Cubitt wrote me a note just an hour ago,
a note that only I can understand.
What one man can invent, another can discover.
"I'M HERE, ABE SLANEY. AT ELRIGE'S, COME ELSIE."
And your last note to her.
"ELSIE PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD."
And this.
You wrote that note?
But you were lying about Elsie.
Slaney, when you shot and killed Hilton Cubitt,
Elsie Cubitt, in her despair, attempted to kill herself,
and is now at death's door.
No.
No, I gotta see her!
I gotta see her, I love her, for God's sake, Elsie!
I love you, Elsie!
Elsie, Elsie!
I believe that she fled from America to avoid you.
Because you followed her and made her life a misery,
she now lies under grave suspicion
of murdering the husband she loved.
The least you can do is to clear her of that.
I guess the very best case I can make for myself now
is to tell you the absolute, naked truth.
It is my duty to warn you
that it will be used against you.
I guess you probably know
that Elsie's father's the most powerful man in Chicago.
One of the most powerful criminal men in Chicago.
It was he who invented the dancing men.
We used it as a code in the old days.
I've known Elsie since she was a child.
She was promised to me.
I may have threatened her,
but I wouldn't have touched a hair on her pretty head.
But you're right, she hated the whole Chicago business.
That's why she ran away to Europe.
It was only after her marriage to this Englishman
that I was able to find out where she was.
I wrote to her, but I got no answer.
She burned your letter.
She was happy in her new life in Derbyshire.
I came here to England to take her home!
I sent her notes.
I did everything I could to coax Elsie away,
then my temper got the better of me and I began to threaten her.
But yesterday she sent me a letter!
She said she would come down when her husband was asleep
and speak to me through the end window
if I would go away afterwards and leave her in peace.
Can I make you see?
I've never been so happy as I've been here with him.
I love him.
Abe, I wanna stay, and I'm going to stay.
What about your friends in Chicago?
What about your family?
Friends do you call them,
killers, robbers, extortionists, some family.
But you and I were engaged!
I'm sorry, Abe, my father forced me into it.
How could I be happy with you in that life?
Please go away, please, I beg you.
You beg me?
Yes.
Hilton is such a good man.
It would break my heart if scandal ever touched him.
Here's money.
It's all that I have.
Now, please go away,
You're coming home! You're coming home!
No!
What the...
No!
I think we've heard enough for the moment, come along.
Can't I see her before I go?
Nobody can see her,
even we have not been given that privilege.
Mr. Holmes.
I hope that if ever again I have an important case,
I shall have the good fortune to have you by my side.
Good afternoon, and thank you.
Holmes?
Hmm.
What did you write in that note?
See if you could read it.
"COME-HERE-AT-ONCE"
"COME HERE AT ONCE."
How absurdly simple,
And so the dancing men,
which had so often been the agents of evil,
were finally used on the side of justice.
Abe Slaney was condemned to death at the Darby assizes
but his sentence was changed to penal servitude
in consideration of mitigating circumstances
in the certainty that Hilton Cubitt had fired the first shot.
Mrs. Cubitt made a complete recovery,