Look, father, we have been through all this before...
Do as I tell you, boy, you damn, disobedient little bastard!
Give me the gun!
It's my life and I'm going to run it the way I like!
Get off out of it!
Good morning!
Caught anything?
Not yet.
Holmes, what on earth are you doing here?
Looking for you.
Well, carry on my dear fellow, don't let me disturb you.
What on earth are you doing here?
A case has brought me this way.
What sort of case?
The newspapers are calling it the Boscombe Valley mystery.
I expect you've read something of it?
Not a word. I haven't seen a paper for days.
A farmer, Cole McCarthy, Australian by birth,
met his death by a mere at the bottom of his farm.
They seem to have established a very serious case
against the son of the murdered man.
There's a big one just under that rock.
So then it's-
a murder?
Well, it's projected to be so.
Of course, I shall take nothing for granted
until I've had a chance to look into it personally.
Naturally.
I don't wish to spoil your holiday
but I was wondering if I could persuade you to join me
for a couple of days?
Well, of course.
Are you sure?
I shall be delighted.
Then we must move quickly, our local train leaves in 35 minutes.
Your water, sir,
Watson, all of this fresh air will kill me.
Well, the London Press don't seem much interested.
Not very full accounts.
Yes. Useless!
So much for the London Press.
It all seems depressingly simple.
What persuaded you to take an interest in this case?
This.
"Boscombe Valley mystery."
"There has been a grave miscarriage of justice."
"The matter is urgent. We need your help."
"Please come if you can, Alice Turner." Good heavens.
Who is Alice Turner?
She is the daughter of Mr. Turner, also Australian,
who owns this whole estate.
Oh, well, it's a "mystery", not "murder" to Miss Turner.
Note the "we", Watson, "We need your help."
If ever there's a cry from the heart that is it... it leaps from the paper.
Have you seen this lady?
No, not yet. Do you remember a certain Sergeant Summerby?
Summerby? Oh, yes, the case of the counterfeit Spanish dollars.
Mexican.
A pleasant fellow much admired your methods, did he not?
Probably his reason for promotion to Inspector.
He is in charge of the case and it was he who organized-
this accommodation for us.
Us? You presumed that I would come?
No, not presumed, Watson, hoped, very much hoped.
Well, Mr. Holmes.
And you, Doctor, it's a pleasure to see you again.
Congratulations on your promotion, Inspector.
Thank you, Doctor.
It's a quiet district as a rule, but nonetheless, my own.
I have a carriage waiting.
McCarthy, the murdered man
rented a farm called Hatherley from a Mr. Turner
who is one of the largest London proprietors in this part of the country.
He made his money in Australia.
I presume that both being colonials they had much in common.
Old friends, I believe.
Well, Mr. Turner has been in failing health for some time.
He has a daughter called Alice?
An only child and a most charming one.
We surmise that Miss Turner and the McCarthy boy are friends?
Great friends.
It was Miss Turner who brings me here.
Oh, I know, Mr. Holmes,
and to be quite honest with you I'm surprised you came.
The case is as plain as a pikestaff,
and the more one goes into it the plainer it becomes.
So I have warned Miss Turner that this time-
not even Mr. Sherlock Holmes will be able to work miracles...
Beautiful countryside.
Yes, yes, indeed. This is Boscombe Valley.
And over there at the bottom is Boscombe Mere
where the murder took place.
A peaceful place for a tragedy.
Any witnesses?
I expected that question, Mr. Holmes.
The principle witness is William Crowder,
one of Mr. Turner's gamekeepers.
It was after I had my dinner, last Monday it was, the...
the third of June.
Oh, that's right.
Now I fed the young pheasants, pullets we call them.
You were planting out lettuces.
Oh, that's right.
I was setting out some lettuces, those lettuces over there.
When my little girl, Patience, she comes running up.
Dad, dad, the McCarthy's are fighting.
Well, it won't be the first time.
Well,
don't you worry about it, Patience. It ain't no concern of ours.
Go on, in you go.
That, Mr. McCarthy,
he has a temper, that one, you know.
You know, if he thought another gun had poached his bird out shooting,
he'd let fly in a real fury.
Was the boy the same way inclined?
No milk for me, please.
No. No, not that I've noticed anyway.
No, he always seemed a nice enough boy.
I'm surprised him doing such a thing.
But, then again,
he was provoked.
No doubt, who's to say.
You tell the gentlemen what happened next.
You haven't forgotten what you said in evidence at the inquest.
Forgotten?
I shan't forget that day, not so long as I live.
I, I just sent Patience into her mother,
and I hadn't planted out no more than another half a box,
when Hugh McCarthy come running up looking like he'd seen a ghost.
My father's met with a terrible accident. Please come with me, I need your help.
Where is he?
Down by the mere.
Is he alive?
You just come along with me.
I brought him back here.
And I sent my wife down to the trap for the police.
Did the boy say anything?
No, no, not a word.
He just sat there where you are, sobbing and moaning
and I didn't take my eyes off him until they came for him, that's the truth.
Did you examine the gun at all, the butt for instance?
Ah... No. No, not especially.
But, there was a bit of mud on it.
He wiped it.
He wiped it?
Well, I might've done.
I mean it would've been natural wouldn't it?
There was Mr. McCarthy lying there dead with his head bashed in,
and he hadn't got that way swatting wasps, had he?
And you believe that the boy killed his father?
Well, of course, I do, sir. I mean who else could've done it?
I can tell you this much, gentlemen.
All right, now, I'm a gamekeeper, all right?
And when a man's got a gun in his hand strange things can happen.
Now I've seen men, quiet law abiding gentleman,
you put a gun in their hands, they turn into near maniacs.
Thank you so much, Mr. Crowder,
for giving so much of your valuable time.
Oh, it's been a pleasure gentlemen.
It's not the first time I've been able to help the cause of justice,
no, not by a long chalk.
Well, last year at Candlemas time, you remember, Inspector?
No, I'm a liar, it were two years ago.
Well, we must be on our way.
Well, I'm on the side of law and order, sir, the Inspector will tell you that.
Indeed you are, Crowder, thank you.
Goodbye.
They're all the same, these country people.
Once they get an audience they'll talk the hind leg off a donkey.
Now if you follow me I'll take you down to the scene of the crime.
No need for the moment.
That's very true, no need in the circumstances.
It's a sad case, but a pretty clear one.
The glass is high,
weather set fair.
I shall like to call on James McCarthy.
I can arrange it if you wish.
Tomorrow.
One more thing I should tell you, Mr. Holmes.
When the boy was charged with the murder,
he didn't appear in the least surprised.
In fact, he said it was no more than his deserts.
Those were his very words.
A confession?
You might think so.
Did he also protest his innocence?
Yes. But then again, they always do, don't they?
I think we best be getting back to the hotel.
I have some calls to make on the estate.
Until tomorrow, then.
Boscombe Arms.
The boy said he got no more than his deserts.
Well, that's a pretty suspicious remark.
I mean, coming after such a damning series of events.
On the contrary the brightest rift I can see in the clouds at present.
Self-approach contrition displayed by his remark
appears to be signs of a healthy mind, rather than a guilty one.
Many men have been hanged on far slighter evidence.
So they have and many men have been hanged wrongfully.
Oh, look, a pheasant.
Mm, "Witness"- that's James McCarthy.
"I had a conversation with my father, which led to high words"
"and almost to blows."
As his temper was becoming ungovernable,
I left him and went up the hill.
I hadn't gone more than a hundred yards
when I heard a hideous outcry, which caused me to run back again.
I found my father
expiring on the ground with his head terribly injured.
Did you see anyone near your father when you returned?
No, no one. I have no idea how he came by his injuries.
He was not a popular man,
but as far as I know he had no active enemies.
I know nothing further of the matter.
Did your father say anything to you before he died?
He mumbled a few words
but all I could catch was some allusion to a rat.
Silence. Be quiet.
A rat? And what did you understand by that?
It conveyed nothing to me.
I thought, well, I thought he was delirious.
What was the point upon which you and your father had this final quarrel?
I should prefer not to answer that question, sir.
I'm afraid that I must press it.
It really is impossible for me to tell you, but I can assure you that-
it had nothing to do with the sad tragedy that followed.
That is for the court to decide.
I need hardly point out to you that your refusal to answer
will prejudice your case considerably
in any future proceedings which may arise.
You may sit down.
Gentlemen of the jury, you are here to discover the cause of death
of Mr. William McCarthy and thereafter to deliver your verdict.
You have heard the facts of this crime
and I believe they make the situation very clear.
Mr. James McCarthy's account of his father's dying
is singular to say the least.
His refusal to give any details of their last conversation
must go very much against him.
The verdict of willful murder
seemed to me to fit the facts we have heard.
I hope I make myself clear.
So willful murder it was.
Monstrous.
Well the boy did rather ask for it.
My dear Watson, don't you see that both you and the coroner-
have been some pains to single out the strongest points
in the young man's favor?
Don't you see that you're terribly giving credit for
too much imagination or too little?
Too little, if he could not invent a quarrel
which would give him the sympathy of the jury.
Too much,
if he evolved from his own inner consciousness anything so outré
as a dying of reference to a rat.
Well, these country coroners do think they're little tin pot gods.
It's an absolute scandal.
No, no, no.
I shall approach this case from the point of view of
what this young man says is true.
We have a visitor.
Our young client has arrived.
Come in.
I'm so glad you've come, Mr. Holmes. I'm Alice Turner.
And this is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson.
Dr. Watson, of course.
It is you who have written down some of Mr. Holmes' cases
in such an interesting way.
You see I know all about you, Mr. Holmes
and your wonderful success.
If you knew how much we need you now,
but do you yet know anything of what happened?
Please sit down, Miss Turner.
Inspector Summerby has told me something of it.
Oh, yes, the Inspector. He gave me your address.
He's quite a kind man, isn't he?
But he doesn't understand. How could he, he's a policeman.
Mr. Holmes, I know that James didn't do it.
I know it and I want you to start your work knowing it, too.
Never let yourself doubt upon that point.
Have you known James McCarthy a long time?
Yes, all my life. We have known each other since we were children,
but he's too tender-hearted to hurt a fly.
This charge is just absurd to anyone who really knows him.
Well, I hope that we may clear him.
I shall do all I can.
But from what you've heard already, do you not think he's innocent?
I think it is probable.
I don't know my friend is so convinced.
I think that Mr. Holmes is being a little-
a little quick in his conclusions.
But you are right, oh, I know that you are right. James never did it.
This quarrel with his father,
which he would not talk about to the coroner,
do you know anything of it?
I believe it was because I was concerned in it.
In what way?
It is no time to hide anything now.
James and his father had many disagreements about me.
Mr. McCarthy was very anxious
that there should be a marriage between us,
but James and I have always loved each other like brother and sister.
Of course we haven't seen so much of each other lately.
I have been away at boarding school for some years
and James has been studying in Liverpool.
He is only 22 and has seen very little of life and-
well, I suppose he does not wish to do anything like that just yet.
So there were quarrels. And this, I'm sure, was one of them.
How old are you, Miss Turner?
I am 18, quite nearly 19.
As you say,
this isn't a time to hide anything.
Are you in love with James McCarthy?
Yes, I am, Mr. Holmes,
very much in love.
There is no one else and never will be. Even if...
And he with you?
Oh, I think so.
I hope so.
But how should I know for sure? We have never discussed marriage.
Was your father in favor of such a union?
No, he was averse to it,
No one but Mr. McCarthy was in favor of it.
Thank you for being so frank with us.
If I was to visit your father, could I see him, please?
I'm afraid not. The doctor has forbidden any visitors.
Oh, I'm sorry, we did not know he was so ill.
My father has never been strong, but this has broken him completely.
Oh, he has taken to his bed and
Dr. Willow says that he's a wreck and his nervous system is shattered.
I can hardly leave him or I would've been at the railway station to meet you.
Well, you see,
Mr. McCarthy was the only man alive who had known dad
in the old days in Australia.
Australia?
In Victoria at the mines, the gold mines.
That's where dad made all his money.
You have been of material assistance to me.
Will you be able to see James?
Tomorrow.
Tell him that I know him to be innocent.
I will.
Could you give him this?
Of course.
And if you have any news you will tell me?
I must go home now.
I left my father asleep but if he awakes and I'm not there,
he'll be upset.
Goodbye.
And God help you in your undertaking.
Morning, Inspector.
May I see him alone, please?
As you wish, Mr. Holmes.
But remember this man is on remand accused of willful murder,
and as you well know such a man under such circumstances
isn't likely to speak the truth.
Oh, thank you for your good advice.
James McCarthy, my name is Sherlock Holmes.
I'm here to help you.
How should I know that?
You came with the police Inspector, I saw him out there.
I'm here at the request of Miss Turner.
I am sorry, Mr. Holmes.
Lately I've learned to trust no one.
I'm afraid you've come too late.
They've already made up their minds that I am guilty.
Well, I have not.
The Coroner's court...
The Coroner and the Coroner's jury, only sit to enquire into the facts.
They do not sit in judgment.
Well, how can I help you?
I'd like you to tell me exactly what happened.
Let's sit down over here where we can talk quietly and not be overheard.
Where shall I start?
You choose.
Well, I've been studying in Liverpool for some three years.
My father was most anxious I should have some academic qualifications.
It was on that day June the 3rd that I returned home.
Was your father expecting you?
No, no, not exactly. He knew I was due for a few days holiday,
but not the exact date.
Our local carrier took me up to the farm from the village.
Welcome home, nice to see you back, Master James.
Oh, it's nice to be back, George.
Hey, Stan, Stan?
Is my father in the house?
No, no, went off about five minutes ago,
looked as though he had something on his mind.
All right, George.
Will you be wanting pony later?
No, no, I'll ride tomorrow.
I might have a gun, see if I could pot a few rabbits.
They need shooting- the place is crawling with them. Welcome.
Hello, father.
James? What are you doing here?
I'm just back for a few days, that's all.
Well, I don't want you down here.
So get off out of it. Keep away from it, do you understand?
Yes, why?
None of your damn business! Just do as you're told.
James.
Look,
now you are here,
get over the Turner's place and tell that girl you'll marry her.
I'll do no such thing. Look, father, we have been...
Do as I tell you boy, you damn, disobedient, little bastard!
Give me the gun.
Give me the gun!
It's my life and I'm going to run it the way I like.
All right, damn you!
I'll throw you out, I'll ruin you. You'll see.
Now get off out of it!
I had hardly gone any distance at all when I heard a terrible scream.
I ran back down and found my father lying on his side.
Did you see anyone else?
No one.
No movement anywhere?
No, my attention was entirely on my father.
He was terribly wounded.
You would not tell the coroner about this quarrel with your father.
It was something private. It was no business of his.
Was it not because this confrontation with your father
might seem to incriminate you?
No, no, it was because it concerned Alice.
It was no business of the coroners or anyone else's.
I wasn't going to have her name bandied about in the courtroom.
You do know this... Alice loves you, James.
And believes you to be innocent.
Yes, I know.
The thought of her love and her faith in me
has kept me in some sort of sanity in this horrible place.
And yet you had no wish to marry her as your father so clearly wished?
Perhaps you did not share her love?
I did. I do, Mr. Holmes. I love Alice Turner.
I, I adore her, I worship the very ground she treads on,
but...
And yet?
I could not ask her to marry me because,
because I was married already.
Don't you think you'd better tell me about it?
When, when I first started studying in Liverpool,
my father gave me a very generous allowance.
Perhaps too generous for my own good.
I became very wild and fell in with a bad set of people.
And in a fit of drunken madness
I went through a form of marriage in a register office
to a woman much older than I was.
A barmaid.
I hardly ever saw Alice at that time.
Of course, I couldn't tell my father.
He would certainly have thrown me out as he'd so often threatened.
Yes, I'm sure he would.
Have you any idea-
who would've killed your father so brutally?
None whatsoever.
Do you know I go over the scene day after day after day in my mind?
But, I am as puzzled as everyone else is.
Don't give up hope.
Thank you, Mr. Holmes.
Oh, oh, Mr. Holmes...
It hardly concerns all this business but perhaps I should tell you.
Some good has come out of this evil.
Since I've been in here I received a message from the woman I married
who has read in the newspapers
that I am in serious trouble and likely to be hanged.
She wrote that she had a husband already in the Bermuda dockyard.
Good heavens!
So, there is no legal tie between us.
If only I had known before.
You were right to tell me.
Poor fellow.
Must've been maddening to be upbraided by his father
for not doing something he would give his very eyes to do.
If he's innocent, who did it?
Indeed.
Well perhaps I can help I've not been entirely idle in your absence.
Now in the surgeon's deposition of the inquest it states
that "the posterior third of the left parietal bone,
and the left half of the occipital bone were shattered
by blows from a blunt weapon".
Now that's here, now behind.
But the evidence states that they were quarreling-
face to face.
That's a very nice piece of deduction, Watson.
Thank you.
But hardly a valid one.
McCarthy could've easily turned his back the moment the girl had run off.
But I'm so glad that you're coming around to my way of thinking,
and Miss Turner's. The boy is innocent.
Now, Holmes you're putting words in my mouth, I didn't say that.
But you're thinking it just a little.
These boots were the ones the master was wearing
at the time he was murdered, sir.
I've cleaned them off since, of course.
Those, those are a pair of Master James'.
He bought them new last Michelmass
Thank you, George, now let's get onto the mere.
This is the place, Mr. Holmes. You can still see traces of the blood.
Please, would you keep clear of this area?
Why did you enter the mere, Inspector?
Fished them out with a rack,
thought there might be some weapon thrown there or some other trace.
If only I'd been here before they came
like a herd of buffalo and wallowed all over it.
This must be the gamekeeper and his gang.
These tracks are young McCarthy's.
And these. Twice he walked.
He turned.
Once he ran,
so the soles of the feet are deeply marked, the heels are hardly visible.
That would bear out his story he ran when he saw his father on the ground.
He does work at it, I'll say that.
The father paced up and down right here.
What have we here?
Tiptoes.
Square toes, most unusual boots.
Where did mister square toes come from?
He'd a made a rare bloodhound, Mr. Holmes.
It has been a case of considerable interest. Come.
Thank you, George.
Thank you, sir.
Would you deliver this note?
Yes, sir, indeed. Right away.
This may interest you, Inspector.
The murder was done with it.
I can see no marks.
There are none.
Well, how do you know then?
The grass was growing under it.
It had only been there a few days. It corresponds with the injuries.
And the murderer?
He's a tall man, left handed, limps with the right leg,
wears thick-soled shooting boots with square toes,
smokes Indian cigars, uses a cigar holder,
and carries a blunt pen knife in his pocket.
You're a brilliant man, Mr. Holmes, and I wish I had your brains.
Your theories are all very well,
but I'm still not convinced. Not this time.
We have to deal with a hardheaded British jury.
Well, you've had your chance, Inspector.
I'm a practical man, Mr. Holmes.
I cannot undertake to go around the country
looking for a left-handed gentleman with the gamey leg
unless I become the laughing stock of Cheshire.
We shall see.
You work your method, I shall work mine.
Now, let us take this morning's work.
From my examination of the ground,
I gained details as to the personality of the criminal.
But how?
You know my method. It's founded upon the observance of trifles.
Well, his height I know you might roughly judge
by the length of his stride, his boots by his traces,
but the man's nameless.
The impression of his right foot
was always left distinct than that of the left.
Why? Because he limped.
He's left-handed.
The blow was delivered from immediately behind him,
yet he was on the left-hand side.
Watson.
He must've been a left-handed man, of course.
He stood behind that tree
during the confrontation between father and son.
He even smoked.
Smoked?
Cigar ash.
An Indian cigar.
You will remember my little monograph-
on the subject of ashes from pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco.
One hundred different varieties if I remember.
One hundred and forty, thank you, Watson.
Having discovered the ash-
I discovered this stump,
which the man had thrown among the moss.
An Indian cigar rolled in Rotterdam.
You'll notice that the end has not been in his mouth,
so he used a cigar holder.
The tip has been cut off, not bitten,
but the cut is not a clean one, so I deduced a blunt penknife.
You're amazing.
Among the words mumbled by the dying man,
the only word that young McCarthy could understand was the word "rat".
Rat, hmm.
Most curious.
Come with me.
Now,
what do you read?
A rat.
And now?
Balla-rat..."Ballarat".
That is the word the man uttered.
Australia.
Someone from Ballarat, what is Ballarat known for?
It's the "Goldfield".
Miss Turner said that her father had met McCarthy on the Goldfield.
I see the direction which all this points.
An Australian from Ballarat and one who is at home in the district.
Unless I'm very much mistaken, he's here.
Mr. John Turner.
Mr. Holmes.
Dr. Watson.
My daughter told me you were lodging here.
Did you get my note?
Yes, yes, something about coming here to avoid a scandal.
Better than meeting up at the hall, people might talk.
Why do you wish to see me?
Oh, yes. I know all about you and McCarthy.
My friend Watson will jot down a few facts.
I promise it will not be used unless it is absolutely needed.
Do sit down.
You didn't know the dead man McCarthy.
He was a devil incarnate.
God keep you out of the clutches of a man such as he.
His grip has been upon me these many years
and he's blasted my life.
I'll tell you first how I came to be in his power.
It was in the early 60's at the diggings.
I was a young chap then, hot blooded and reckless.
Well, I had no luck with my claim,
took to the bush and became what you'd call a highway robber.
There was a little gang of us who lived a wild free life of it.
Sticking up a station from time to time,
or stopping the wagon on the road from the diggings.
They called me Black Jack of Ballarat.
I believe they still remember the Ballarat gang in the colony.
The wagon driver was McCarthy and I spared him.
Get out of it!
Go on, shift! Do a Botany! Fast!
We got away with the gold.
And Mac and I were wealthy men beyond the dreams of Everest.
There was...
There was a price on our heads.
I decided to make for England.
I determined to settle down to a quiet and respectable life.
I bought this estate that included the whole village,
even this inn is mine.
I set myself to do a little good with my money
to make up for the way in which I'd earned it.
I married and then my darling wife died young.
She left me my dear little Alice.
I was a happy man you might say, until McCarthy laid his grip upon me.
He followed my trail. When he first came here,
he'd hardly a coat to his back or a boot to his foot.
"Here we are, Jack!" he said.
"You can have the keeping of us, me and my little boy."
"And if you don't,"
"England is a fine law-abiding country,"
"and there's always a policeman handy."
I was a sitting duck for blackmail.
There was no shaking him off, there was no rest, no peace,
no forgetfulness. Turn where I would-
there was his cunning, grinning face at my elbow.
Whatever he wanted he must have, and whatever it was-
I gave him without question. Land, money, houses...
until at last he asked the thing I could not give.
He asked for Alice.
His son and my girl had grown up. He knew I was in weak health.
It seemed a fine stroke to him that his-
son should step into the whole property.
There I was firm.
I would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine.
Not that I had any dislike for the lad,
but his father's blood was in him and that was enough.
I stood firm. McCarthy threatened, I braved him to do his worst.
We arranged to meet at the mere,
halfway between our two houses to talk it over.
As I listened to his talk all that was black and bitter
seemed to come upper most,
and he was urging his son to marry my daughter,
with as little regard for what she might think
as a slut from off the streets.
Look, father, we have been through all this before...
Do as I tell you, boy, you damn, disobedient, little bastard!
It drove me mad to think that I and all that I held dear
should be in the power of such a man.
It's my life and I'm going to run it the way I like.
I was a dying and desperate man.
If I could silence that foul tongue, I could still save me
and my family's reputation in this valley.
Get off out of it!
I did it, Mr. Holmes, and I would do it again.
Deeply though I've sinned, I've lived a life of martyrdom to atone for it.
If my girl should become entangled in the same meshes which held me
was more than I could suffer.
I struck him down with no more compunction
than if he'd been some foul and venomous beast.
That is the true story, gentlemen-
of all that occurred.
It is not for me to judge you,
but I hope that we may never expose to such temptation.
I pray not, sir.
I'm a dying man.
I've had the diabetes for years.
My doctor says it's a question of whether I shall live a month,
and I'd rather die under my own roof than in a jail.
No, McCarthy must be got off, however.
Oh, God help me, but I wouldn't let that young man come to harm.
I'll give you my word that I'd have spoken out
if it went against him at the assizes.
I'm very glad to hear you say so.
I'd have spoken now if it had not been for my dear girl.
It would break her heart.
It'll break her heart when she hears that I'm arrested.
It may not come to that.
We're not the police.
I am no official agent.
I'm here at your daughter's request.
Alice?
Alice.
Then what do you intend to do?
In view of your health, nothing.
You are yourself aware that you'll have to answer for your deed
at a higher court than the assizes.
If young McCarthy's condemned I shall be forced to use this confession.
If not,
it will never be seen by mortal eye,
and your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe with that.
Farewell then.
Your own deathbeds when they come
a little bit easier for a thought of the peace that you've given to mine.
Oh God, help us.
"Turner, John Stewart,"
"16th of August, Boscombe Hall Cheshire."
"After a long illness, bravely born, beloved father of Alice."
Well, we're free to use that confession at young McCarthy's trial.
No, by no means.
My promise was it would not be used unless McCarthy is condemned,
and I think I've given enough objections to the charge
to ensure his acquittal.
Well, I hope so.
I love you.
I love you, too.
Will you marry me?
Yes, I will.
A happy ending to a brilliant case.
I congratulate you, Holmes.
I thank you. I must admit there are certain aspects to this case,