THE PRIVATE LIFE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
by
Billy Wilder and I.A.L Diamond
THE PRIVATE LIFE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
FADE IN:
BRASS PLAQUE - DAY
Engraved on it are the words: COX & CO., Bankers.
Reflected in its shiny surface are double-decker red
buses, and other present-day London traffic.
INT. BANK VAULT - DAY
An iron gate opens, and two bank guards come in. One of
them switches on the lights. On the shelves which line
the walls are dusty strong-boxes, document cases, wrapped
packages, etc. The guards move along the shelves
searching for something.
WATSON'S VOICE
Somewhere in the vaults of a bank in
London is a tin dispatch box with my name
on it. It is not to be opened until
fifty years after my death.
The guards find a battered tin dispatch box with the name
JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., painted on it. They remove it from
the shelf, set it down on a table. The box is tied with
heavy cord, the knots sealed with wax. Strung on the
cord is the key.
WATSON'S VOICE
It contains certain mementos of my long
association with a man who elevated the
science of deduction to an art -- the
world's first, and undoubtedly most
famous, consulting detective.
While one of the guards dusts the box off, the other cuts
the cord with a pair of scissors. He then inserts the
key in the lock, turns it, raises the lid -- revealing
the dusty contents of the box.
OVER THIS, SUPERIMPOSE THE MAIN TITLE.
The guards now start to remove the objects from the box,
one at a time: -- A daguerreotype of Holmes, standing,
and Watson, seated, in a a stiff studio pose; Holmes'
deerstalker hat, his curved pipe, his magnifying glass;
Watson's stethoscope, Holmes' revolver; a small enamel
sign with the number 221B; a pair of handcuffs;
2.
a sheet of music paper which is unrolled to disclose a
violin piece composed by Holmes, titled FOR ILSE von H.;
A pocket watch, the back of which is opened to reveal a
photograph of Gabrielle Valladon; a signet ring bearing
the initials S.H. -- under which is concealed a compass;
a worn morocco case -- inside which is an early-model
hypodermic syringe; a crystal ball which, when shaken,
produces a snowstorm - and when the snow settles, we see
a bust of Queen Victoria.
OVER THESE OBJECTS, THE REST OF THE CREDIT TITLES ARE
SUPERIMPOSED.
The last item out of the box is a thick stack of
manuscript paper, bound with green ribbon. The guard
undoes the ribbon, dusts off the top page, as CAMERA
MOVES IN CLOSER. Written in ink, in the cursive
penmanship of the period, is the following paragraph:
To my heirs:
In my lifetime, I have recorded some
sixty cases demonstrating the singular
gift of my friend Sherlock Holmes --
dealing with everything from The Hound of
the Baskervilles to his mysterious
brother Mycroft and the devilish
Professor Moriarty. But there were other
adventures which, for reasons of
discretion, I have decided to withhold
from the public until this much later
date. They involve matters of a delicate
and sometimes scandalous nature, as will
shortly become apparent.
OVER THIS, WE HEAR THE VOICE OF DR. WATSON, reading the
text.
DISSOLVE TO:
YORKSHIRE LANDSCAPE - DAY
A passenger train of the late Nineteenth Century is
chugging through the early morning mist.
WATSON'S VOICE
It was August of 1887, and we were
returning from Yorkshire, where Holmes
had solved the baffling murder of Colonel
Abernetty.
3.
INT. COMPARTMENT - MOVING TRAIN - DAWN
There are but two passengers in the compartment --
sitting by the window, facing each other. In fact they
are dozing. One wears a deerstalker and an Inverness
cape; the other is in a dark overcoat and a black bowler,
a furled umbrella between his legs, a medical bag on the
seat beside him. The rest of their luggage is on the
racks above. They are, of course, SHERLOCK HOLMES and
DR. JOHN H. WATSON. This being 1887, they are thirty-
three and thirty-five respectively.
WATSON'S VOICE
You may recall that he broke the
murderer's alibi by measuring the depth
to which the parsley had sunk in the
butter on a hot day.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BAKER STREET - DAY
A hansom cab, with Holmes' and Watson's luggage strapped
to the rack on top, is proceeding down the busy street.
WATSON'S VOICE
He was the most brilliant man I have ever
known -- and I dare say people have
envied me for sharing that flat with him
in Baker Street.
The cab draws up in front of 221B. The front door opens
and MRS. HUDSON, a plump, motherly woman in her fifties,
wearing an apron, hurries down the steps. She greets
Holmes and Watson warmly as they alight.
WATSON'S VOICE
I'll grant you he was stimulating -- but
he could also be moody, unpredictable,
egocentric, and more often than not,
completely infuriating -- as our
landlady, Mrs. Hudson, can attest --
bless her kind soul.
The cabbie starts to unload their luggage. As Holmes,
Watson and Mrs. Hudson proceed inside, CAMERA TRAVELS UP
THE FACADE OF THE BUILDING, past the number 221B, to the
bay window on the second floor.
4.
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - DAY
It's all there -- the fireplace, the coal scuttle, the
Persian slipper with the tobacco; the velvet wing chair,
the basket chair with the writing-arm, the couch with the
cushions; the sideboard with the tantalus and the
gasogene; the acid-stained deal-topped table with Holmes'
chemical equipment on it, the dining table, the small
Moorish table; the bookshelves and the violin case; the
gas fixtures and the oil lamps; the dumbwaiter connecting
with the kitchen in the basement; and Holmes' desk, piled
high with papers, clippings, research material, etc.
Holmes is pulling up the window shades. Watson has
removed his hat and coat, and is putting his medical bag
down on the sideboard; the cabbie, having deposited their
luggage, is just leaving.
MRS. HUDSON
I do wish you'd give me a little more
warning when you come home unexpected. I
would have roasted a goose -- and had
some flowers for you.
HOLMES
My dear Mrs. Hudson -- criminals are as
unpredictable as head-colds. You never
quite know when you're going to catch
one.
He has picked up a dagger, starts opening his mail, which
is on the dining table.
MRS. HUDSON
I'll unpack your bags.
She exits into one of the bedrooms. Watson has now taken
a magazine out of an envelope.
WATSON
Here's an advance copy of Strand
Magazine.
(shows it to Holmes)
They've printed 'The Red-Headed League!'
On the cover is a colored illustration from the story,
featuring in obligatory Inverness and deerstalker.
5.
HOLMES
(offhand)
Very impressive.
WATSON
(leafing through the
magazine)
Would you like to see how I treated it?
HOLMES
I can hardly wait. I'm sure I'll find
out all sorts of fascinating things about
the case that I never knew before.
WATSON
Just what do you mean by that?
HOLMES
Oh, come now, Watson, you must admit that
you have a tendency to over-romanticize.
You have taken my simple exercises in
logic and embellished them, exaggerated
them...
WATSON
I deny the accusation.
HOLMES
You have described me as six-foot-four,
whereas I am barely six-foot-one.
WATSON
A bit of poetic license.
HOLMES
(removing Inverness and
deerstalker)
You have saddled me with this improbable
costume, which the public now expects me
to wear.
WATSON
That's not my doing.
(indicating cover of Strand)
Blame it on the illustrator.
HOLMES
You've made me out to be a violin
virtuoso. Here --
6.
(holds out a letter he's been
reading)
-- a request from the Liverpool Symphony
to appear as soloist in the Mendelssohn
Concerto.
WATSON
(excited)
Oh, really?
HOLMES
The fact is that I could barely hold my
own in the pit orchestra of a second-rate
music hall.
WATSON
You're much too modest.
HOLMES
(busy with the mail)
You have given the reader the distinct
impression that I am a misogynist.
Actually, I don't dislike women -- I
merely distrust them. The twinkle in the
eye and the arsenic in the soup.
WATSON
It's those little touches that make you
colorful --
HOLMES
Lurid is more like it. You have painted
me as a hopeless dope addict -- just
because I occasionally take a five per
cent solution of cocaine.
WATSON
A seven per cent solution.
HOLMES
Five per cent. Don't you think I'm aware
you've been diluting it behind my back?
WATSON
As a doctor -- and as your friend -- I
strongly disapprove of this insidious
habit of yours.
7.
HOLMES
My dear friend -- as well as my dear
doctor -- I only resort to narcotics when
I am suffering from acute boredom -- when
there are no interesting cases to engage
my mind.
(holding out one of the open
letters)
Look at this -- an urgent appeal to find
six missing midgets.
He tosses the letter down is disgust.
WATSON
Did you say midgets?
He picks up the letter.
HOLMES
Six of them -- the Tumbling Piccolos --
an acrobatic act with some circus.
WATSON
Disappeared between London and Bristol
... Don't you find that intriguing?
HOLMES
Extremely so. You see, they are not only
midgets -- but also anarchists.
WATSON
Anarchists?
HOLMES
(nodding)
By now they have been smuggled to Vienna,
dressed as little girls in burgundy
pinafores. They are to greet the Czar of
all the Russias when he arrives at the
railway station. They will be carrying
bouquets of flowers, concealed in each
bouquet will be a bomb with a lit fuse.
WATSON
You really think so?
HOLMES
Not at all. The circus owner offers me
five pounds for my services -- that's not
even a pound a midget.
8.
So obviously he is a stingy blighter, and
the little chaps simply ran off to join
another circus.
WATSON
(crestfallen)
Oh. And it sounded so promising --
HOLMES
There are no great crimes anymore,
Watson. The criminal class has lost all
enterprise and originality. At best they
commit some bungling villainy, with a
motive so transparent that even a
Scotland Yard official can see through
it.
He has crossed to the desk, suddenly notices something.
HOLMES
(angrily)
Mrs. Hudson!
(even angrier)
MRS. HUDSON!
Mrs. Hudson comes hurrying out of the bedroom.
MRS. HUDSON
Yes? What is it? What have I done now?
HOLMES
(sternly)
There is something missing from my desk.
MRS. HUDSON
Missing?
HOLMES
Something very crucial.
(picks up a small feather)
You have been tidying up against my
explicit orders.
MRS. HUDSON
Oh, I made sure not to disturb anything.
HOLMES
Dust, Mrs. Hudson, is an essential part
of my filing system. By the thickness of
it, I can date any document immediately.
9.
MRS. HUDSON
Some of the dust was this thick.
She demonstrates with her thumb and forefinger.
HOLMES
(promptly)
That would be March, 1883.
He blows the feather away.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING
START on Holmes' foot, operating a bellows. CAMERA PANS
UP to the top of the chemistry table, on which an
elaborate apparatus of brass, glass and rubber tubing has
been set up. Inserted into the ends of the rubber tubes
are half a dozen cigarettes, four cigars of different
shapes and colors, and four pipes, all lit. Activated by
the bellows, they are puffing away like mad, wheezing
loudly and filling the screen with smoke. Seated at the
table is Holmes, in shirt-sleeves. Occasionally he
knocks off an ash onto a glass slide, studies it under a
microscope.
Watson, in a dressing gown, is sitting in the chair with
the writing arm, documenting the latest Holmes adventure
for Strand Magazine. The open mail has now been affixed
to the center of the wooden mantelpiece, with a dagger.
Mrs. Hudson is clearing the dinner dishes from the table,
and loading them onto the shelf of the dumbwaiter. The
accumulation of smoke in the room makes her cough.
MRS. HUDSON
How can you stand this? Why don't you
let me air the room out?
WATSON
Please, Mrs. Hudson -- he's working on a
definitive study of tobacco ash.
MRS. HUDSON
(drily)
I'm sure there's a crying need for that.
10.
WATSON
In our endeavors, it is sometimes vital
to distinguish between, say, the ashes of
a Macedonian cigarette and a Jamaican
cigar. Sor far he has classified 140
different kinds of ashes.
MRS. HUDSON
All of which will end up on my rug.
She is now pulling on the rope which lowers the
dumbwaiter.
WATSON
That'll be enough, Mrs. Hudson.
MRS. HUDSON
(heading for door)
All right. If you gentlemen want to stay
here and suffocate...
She exits, shutting the door. For a while, the two go on
working. Then Holmes rises abruptly from the chemistry
table.
HOLMES
She's right. I am suffocating.
WATSON
Let me open a window.
HOLMES
Not from lack of air -- from lack of
activity. Sitting here week after week --
blowing smoke rings -- staring through a
microscope -- there's no challenge in
that.
WATSON
Personally, I consider it a major
contribution to scientific criminology...
Holmes has opened his violin case and taken out his
fiddle.
HOLMES
How I envy you your mind, Watson.
WATSON
You do?
11.
HOLMES
It's placid, imperturbable, prosaic. But
my mind rebels against stagnation. It's
like a racing engine, tearing itself to
pieces because it's not connected up with
the work for which it was built.
He has tucked the violin under his chin, starts to
improvise a nervous pent-up melody. There is nothing
amateurish about it -- he plays quite well.
Watson resumes working on his manuscript. Suddenly the
music stops. Watson looks up apprehensively. Holmes has
put down the violin, and is crossing to the sideboard.
He opens Watson's medical bag, takes out a bottle of
cocaine, starts toward his bedroom. Watson pushes the
writing arm to the side, rises from his chair.
WATSON
Holmes --
Holmes pays no attention, continues into the bedroom.
Watson crosses to the open door. Inside the bedroom,
Holmes has put down the cocaine bottle on the washstand,
and is rolling up his left sleeve.
WATSON
Holmes, where is your self-control?
HOLMES
Fair question.
From a drawer he takes a morocco case, opens it, removes
a hypodermic syringe.
WATSON
Aren't you ashamed of yourself?
HOLMES
Thoroughly. But this will take care of
it.
He has removed the stopper from the cocaine bottle, and
inserting the hypodermic needle into it, starts to draw
up the liquid.
DISSOLVE TO:
12.
EXT. BAKER STREET - DAY
It is raining. A bus comes down the street, the open top
deck sprouting umbrellas like black mushrooms.
WATSON'S VOICE
Naturally, I don't mean to imply that my
friend was always on cocaine -- sometimes
it was opium, sometimes it was hashish.
And once he went one of these dreadful
binges, there was no telling how long it
would last.
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - DAY
Rain beats on the windows. Holmes and Watson are in the
middle of an argument.
WATSON
The only reason you moved in with me is
to have a steady supply of stimulants.
HOLMES
Now, now, Watson -- you mustn't
underestimate your other charms.
He starts into the bedroom.
WATSON
Holmes, I warn you. If you lock yourself
in there once more --
HOLMES
I intend to do nothing of the sort.
He takes the hypodermic out of the drawer in the
washstand, starts back into the living room with it.
HOLMES
Not until you replace this needle. It is
getting rather blunt.
As Watson glares at him, the door opens and Mrs. Hudson
comes bustling in. Holmes hides the hypodermic behind
his back.
MRS. HUDSON
I made you some tea and cress sandwiches.
13.
She opens the door of the dumbwaiter, starts to pull it
up.
WATSON
Mrs. Hudson, I want you to pack my bags.
MRS. HUDSON
Are you going away for the weekend?
WATSON
And beyond. I'm moving out.
MRS. HUDSON
Moving out?
(she looks at Holmes)
HOLMES
I'm just as surprised as you are.
WATSON
You heard me, Mrs. Hudson. And let's not
waste any time.
Mrs. Hudson sighs, exits into Watson's bedroom.
HOLMES
May I be so bold as to ask where you'er
going?
WATSON
I don't know yet. But I intend to resume
my practice. I am, after all, a doctor.
And quite a competent one, if I say so as
shouldn't.
HOLMES
You'll find it very dull -- snipping out
tonsils and flushing out kidneys --
Watson is glancing around the room, searching for
something.
HOLMES
If you're looking for your medical bag,
you hid it under the Moorish table.
(as Watson crosses to it)
Which shows a little more imagination
than last time -- when it was under your
bed.
14.
Watson picks up the Moorish table, disclosing the medical
bag, standing on end. He sets the bag down on the
fender, opens it.
WATSON
I will, of course, continue to pay my
half of the rent until you find someone
to share these rooms with you.
HOLMES
Where am I going to find anyone who will
put up with my rather eccentric habits?
WATSON
(taking hypodermic needle out
of bag)
Here's a fresh needle -- and here's my
farewell present to you.
He takes out three bottles of narcotics, puts them on the
mantel.
WATSON
If you want to destroy yourself, go right
ahead. But I won't sit by and watch you
doing it.
He snaps his bag shut, carries it toward his bedroom.
HOLMES
Watson...
Watson disappears into the bedroom, slamming the door.
Holmes looks after him, then looks at the bottles of dope
on the mantelpiece. He starts pacing. After a moment he
stops at the chemistry table, studies the assorted
glassware on the shelves above.
INT. WATSON'S BEDROOM - DAY
There are two open valises on the bed. Watson is moving
around the room, collecting various odds and ends, while
Mrs. Hudson packs his clothes.
MRS. HUDSON
It's so sad. You and Mr. Holmes -- after
all these years --
(she sobs)
15.
WATSON
Please, Mrs. Hudson -- none of that.
Mrs. Hudson takes a clean handkerchief from the open
valise, blows her nose.
MRS. HUDSON
I'll wash this and send it on to you.
WATSON
I'll be at Brown's Hotel.
MRS. HUDSON
(still sniffling)
I know how it feels -- I once went
through a divorce myself.
WATSON
(removing diploma from wall)
Actually, I'm rather looking forward to
it. Leading a normal life again.
Regular office hours -- nine to three --
and if occasionally there's an emergency
call in the middle of the night, I know
it's going be appendicitis and not an ax
murder. Let Holmes go mucking about in
the fog and the sleet, looking for a
bloodstained collar-button out on the
moors, with some demented hound snapping
at his behind --
From the living room comes the sound of a revolver shot.
Mrs. Hudson screams and Watson looks off in alarm. Then
he races out of the room, diploma in hand, followed by
Mrs. Hudson.
INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY
As they burst into the room, they see Holmes sitting on
the stool beside the chemistry table, a revolver in his
hand. He has shattered one of the narcotics bottles on
the mantelpiece, and is aiming at a second one.
MRS. HUDSON
Mr. Holmes...
Holmes fires, smashing the second bottle. As Mrs. Hudson
takes a step forward, he waves her away with the gun.
16.
HOLMES
Please, Mrs. Hudson. You're in my line
of fire.
Watson jerks Mrs. Hudson back as Holmes lets go with
another shot. The bullet disposes of the third bottle,
splattering glass and liquid all over the place. Holmes
rises calmly from the stool, crosses to the desk, puts
the revolver away in a drawer.
MRS. HUDSON
(outraged)
How many times have I told you I will not
tolerate pistol practice on my premises?
I should have evicted you when you shot
them holes in my wall.
She points up to a spot near the ceiling. Neatly traced
in bullet holes are the initials V.R., with a small crown
above them.
HOLMES
Merely celebrating Her Majesty's Golden
Jubilee.
MRS. HUDSON
Look at that mess you made --
Watson is looking at Holmes with a little smile on his
face.
WATSON
It's all right, Mrs. Hudson. I'll clean
it up --
(hands her the diploma)
-- while you unpack my things.
MRS. HUDSON
Unpack?
HOLMES
You heard him.
A bewildered Mrs. Hudson goes back into the bedroom.
Watson crosses to the fireplace, picks up the whiskbroom
and the coal shovel, starts cleaning up the broken glass.
WATSON
Thank you, Holmes. I know how difficult
it must've been for you --
17.
HOLMES
Not really. It was simple choice between
a bad habit and a good companion.
WATSON
You've made me very happy.
HOLMES
I've often been accused of being cold and
unemotional. I admit to it. And yet, in
my cold, unemotional way, I'm very fond
of you, Watson.
WATSON
I know that. But one likes to hear these
things occasionally.
He notices the violin, which has been splattered with the
liquid from the shattered bottle, picks it up.
WATSON
Look at this. Covered with that nasty
stuff. I'd better dry it off.
HOLMES
I'll do it.
He takes the instrument, and dabbing it with a
handkerchief, carries it toward the violin case.
WATSON
For a moment, I was worried that you were
going to let me walk out -- that you
weren't even going to try to stop me.
HOLMES
Now, Watson -- you know there's nothing I
wouldn't do to keep you here.
With a side-glance at the busy Watson, he opens the
violin case. Neatly stashed away around the edges are
the three original bottles of narcotics. The ones he
shot up, of course, were substitutes from the chemistry
set. He places the violin carefully among the bottles,
closes the case, snaps the locks. As he moves off, we
STAY on the violin case.
18.
WATSON'S VOICE
It was not the first not the last time he
tricked me like that. Normally, I was
inclined to forgive him...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY
Watson, in his dressing gown, is sitting at the table,
finishing his coffee. In front of him is a letter, on
blue note-paper, and a pair of theatre tickets.
WATSON'S VOICE
But on one occasion, he did something
that was so utterly unforgivable, that I
would gladly have murdered him -- had it
not been for my saintly disposition.
Watson sets down his coffee cup, picks up the letter and
the tickets, rises from his chair. He starts to pace --
addressing Holmes, who is off-scene.
WATSON
Why are you being so stubborn, Holmes?
Why won't you go? It's the final
performance of the Imperial Russian
Ballet -- the house has been sold out for
months --
He moves towards the door of --
HOLMES' BEDROOM - DAY
Holmes is sitting in a hip-bath with a high back, soaping
himself. Watson appears in the doorway.
WATSON
-- seats are going for a guinea apiece --
HOLMES
That's precisely it. Why should someone
send up two free tickets? Anonymously,
at that.
WATSON
Whoever sent them must be in great
distress. The note says --
19.
(reading it)
'Please! You are the only man in the
world who can help me.'
HOLMES
I suspect it's some sort of plot.
WATSON
You mean somebody wants to lure us into a
trap...?
HOLMES
Somebody wants to kill me.
WATSON
Kill you?
HOLMES
That's right. It's a plot to bore me to
death. I detest ballet.
WATSON
But this isn't just any ballet. It's
Swan Lake.
CUT TO:
INT. THEATRE - NIGHT
START ON THE CONDUCTOR, in the orchestra pit, as he gives
the downbeat for the second acto music of SWAN LAKE.
CAMERA PULLS BACK TO INCLUDE THE STAGE, with a mechanical
sway crossing the mist-shrouded lake. CAMERA CONTINUES
TO PULL BACK, REVEALING Holmes and Watson, in evening
clothes, occupying a box in the upper tier.
WATSON
(confidentially)
You know, of course, Holmes -- that swan
isn't really a swan -- it's an enchanted
princess.
HOLMES
(bored)
H'mmmm.
On the stage now, the hunters appear, carrying lighted
torches.
20.
BOX
Watson trains his opera glasses on the stage, Holmes
stifles a yawn.
STAGE
PETROVA, as the Queen of the Swans, makes her entrance to
loud applause. She is in her forties, but splendidly
preserved, undoubtedly the greatest ballerina around.
BOX
Watson nudges Holmes, who has dozed off.
WATSON
Fabulous woman, don't you think so,
Holmes?
HOLMES
(coming to)
Who?
WATSON
The great Petrova.
He hands the glasses to Holmes, who focuses them
indifferently on the stage.
STAGE
Petrova is making an exit, backwards, on points.
BOX
Holmes lowers the glasses, returns them to Watson.
HOLMES
Very strong arches, I must admit.
WATSON
They say twelve men have died for her.
HOLMES
Really.
21.
WATSON
Six committed suicide, four were killed
in duels, and one fell out of the gallery
in the Vienna Opera House.
HOLMES
That's only eleven.
WATSON
The man who fell from the gallery landed
on top of another man in the orchestra.
HOLMES
That makes an even dozen -- in a messy
sort of way.
Watson resumes watching the stage through the glasses.
STAGE
Petrova and the dancer playing the Prince go into the
famous pas-de-deux.
BOX
Watson enjoying himself immensely, Holmes sitting there
dourly. The red plush curtain at the rear of the box
parts, and a man in evening clothes and a top hat enters.
He is in his middle fifties, extremely soigne, and
somewhat sinister. His name is ROGOZHIN, and he is
Russian. Holmes and Watson look around.
ROGOZHIN
Mister Holmes?
HOLMES
Yes.
ROGOZHIN
I am Nicolai Rogozhin, director-general
of the Imperial Russian Ballet. So glad
you accept invitation.
Holmes and Watson start to get up, but he motions them
back into their chairs.
HOLMES
This is Dr. Watson.
22.
ROGOZHIN
Pleased to meet you.
(seating himself behind them)
You are enjoying?
WATSON
Immensely.
ROGOZHIN
(abruptly)
Tell me, Mr. Holmes, how is your health?
HOLMES
My health? Better consult my doctor.
WATSON
(to Rogozhin)
Oh, he's in excellent shape.
ROGOZHIN
(to Holmes)
Any insanity in your family? Diabetes?
Asthma?
HOLMES
Would you mind telling me what this is
all about?
ROGOZHIN
Certainly. Madame Petrova, she has
problem.
HOLMES
Could you be more specific?
ROGOZHIN
Certainly not.
WATSON
A liason with a crowned head?
Compromising letters? Blackmail?
He glances toward the stage.
STAGE
The pas-de-deux finished, to a rousing ovation.
23.
BOX
Rogozhin rises, turns to Holmes.
ROGOZHIN
After performance, there will be little
celebration backstage -- and Madame
requests your presence.
WATSON
We'd be delighted.
ROGOZHIN
(to Watson)
You are invited, also.
With a parting look he exits, pulling the plush curtains
closed.
CUT TO:
STAGE
The performance is over, the curtain is up, the party is
on. Tables have been set up, with caviar, vodka and
champagne. The members of the orchestra are now playing
balalaikas, and crew and cast (the ballerinas still in
costume, the male dancers in tights) seem in high
spirits.
Holmes and Watson, in silk hats with canes, appear from
the wings, stop, survey the scene. Watson's eyes are
shining with anticipation. In contrast, Holmes' face is
sober and quizzical.
Rogozhin spots the two, detaches himself from a group,
hurries over to join them.
ROGOZHIN
There you are, Mr. Holmes. Madame is
expecting you in her dressing room. Dr.
Watson, you will amuse yourself meanwhile
-- we have vodka, caviar, girls.
WATSON
No, thank you.
24.
ROGOZHIN
No girls?
WATSON
No caviar. Makes me break out in hives.
Rogozhin turns to a group of ballerinas, claps his hands.
ROGOZHIN
Dievushki. Siude, siuda, dievushki.
Posnakomtes s docktorum Watsonom.
Half a dozen ballerinas descend on on Dr. Watson. They
are giggling and chattering in Russian. Rogozhin leads
Holmes off, while Watson takes in the bevy of beauties
around him.
WATSON
Any of you girls understand English?
GIRLS
Nyet.
WATSON
Not one single word?
GIRLS
Nyet.
WATSON
In that case, I don't mind telling you
that you all have lovely po-pos.
He pats a couple of the po-pos with his cane.
BACKSTAGE
Rogozhin is leading Holmes toward Madame Petrova's
dressing room.
ROGOZHIN
Mr. Holmes, I must prepare you -- this is
no ordinary case.
HOLMES
It is only the extraordinary that
interests me.
25.
ROGOZHIN
Good. Because you will find this extra-
extraordinary.
They have now reached the door of Madame's dressing room.
Rogozhin knocks. The door is opened by an elderly
Russian maid.
ROGOZHIN
Madame Petrova prinimaet?
MAID
Pozhaluista voidite.
Rogozhin leads Holmes inside. The maid steps out, shuts
the door.
INT. DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT
It is small, elegant and sensuous. There is vodka in an
ice-bucket, next to a Recamier chaise, a paravent, masses
of flowers, and finally Madame Petrova, still in costume,
sitting at a dressing table with multiple mirrors,
undoing her hair. Candles, in two elaborate candleabra,
give Madame's face a special glow.
ROGOZHIN
Ja priviol vam Mistera Sherlock Holmesa,
doragaia.
PETROVA
(to Holmes)
Otchen rada.
She extends her hand, and Holmes takes it.
HOLMES
Madame.
He kisses her hand. Petrova appraises him from head to
toe, and back again.
PETROVA
(to Holmes)
Vi menshe rostom chem ja ozhidala.
HOLMES
Madame says you are shorter than she
thought.
26.
HOLMES
I didn't mean to be.
PETROVA
No eto nie vazhno. Menia interessujut
glavnim obra som vashi mosghi.
ROGOZHIN
Short, tall, who cares? It is the brains
that count.
HOLMES
(to Rogozhin)
Thank you.
(catching himself, to
Petrova)
Thank you.
Petrova rises, crosses to the paravent.
PETROVA
Ja prochia vsie vashi prikliuchenia.
Zamiechatelno! Os sobenno sobaka
Baskervillei.
ROGOZHIN
Madame is great admirer of yours. She
has read every story -- her favorite is
Big Dog from Baskerville.
HOLMES
I'm afraid it loses something in
translation.
Petrova is now behind the paravent, undressing, only her
head visible.
PETROVA
Nikolai, pokazhite iemu skripku.
Rogozhin picks up a violin case, opens it.
ROGOZHIN
Mr. Holmes, you know about fiddles.
(takes violin out, hands it
to him)
What is your opinion of this?
Holmes holds the violin up, peers through one of the
sound holes.
27.
HOLMES
(reading)
'Antonius Stradivarius Cremonesis, Anno
1709.' Well, the label is authentic.
(examines violin, plucks
strings)
Judging from the shape, the color of the
varnish, and the tone, I would say it is
a genuine Stradivarius of the best
period.
ROGOZHIN
You like?
HOLMES
It's magnificent.
PETROVA
(from behind paravent)
Skazhite jemu chto eto podarok ot menia.
ROGOZHIN
Here -- take it. Madame says it is
yours.
HOLMES
Mine?
ROGOZHIN
For services you will render.
HOLMES
My fees as a detective are not exactly
trifling -- but a Stradivarius -- you're
not serious.
ROGOZHIN
I am not. But Madame is.
Petrova emerges from behind the paravent, in a brocade
dressing gown.
PETROVA
Nalejte vodki i obiasnite jemu v chom
dielo.
She drapes herself on the chaise.
28.
ROGOZHIN
All right. I will pour vodka and
explain.
(starts pouring vodka; it is
pink)
Mr. Holmes, what you have seen tonight is
last and positively final performance of
Madame Petrova. She is retiring.
HOLMES
What a shame.
ROGOZHIN
She has been dancing since she was three
years old. And after all, she is now
thirty-eight.
HOLMES
(gallantly)
I must say she doesn't look thirty-eight.
ROGOZHIN
That is because she is forty-nine.
(he hands her a glass of
vodka, with an exaggerated
smile)
So Madame has decided to leave ballet and
spend life bringing up her child.
HOLMES
How admirable.
ROGOZHIN
(hands him vodka)
Problem now is to find father.
HOLMES
Oh? Is he missing?
ROGOZHIN
Correct.
HOLMES
And that's why you called me in?
ROGOZHIN
Also correct. We must have father,
because without father, how can there be
child?
29.
HOLMES
I see. The whole thing is still in the
planning stage --
ROGOZHIN
Correct again. Madame would like child
to be brilliant and beautiful. Since she
is beautiful -- she now needs man who is
brilliant.
Holmes' eyes wander slowly toward Petrova. She raises
her glass.
PETROVA
Za zdorovie.
ROGOZHIN
(raising his glass)
Za zdorovie.
HOLMES
Za zdrovie.
Petrova and Rogozhin down their vodka bottoms up. Holmes
takes one swallow, then stops.
HOLMES
What's in it?
ROGOZHIN
What does it taste like?
HOLMES
Red pepper.
ROGOZHIN
That's what's in it.
While Rogozhin refills Petrova's glass and his own,
Holmes takes another tentative sip.
PETROVA
(to Holmes)
Kogda mi smozhem dvinutsa v putj?
HOLMES
I beg your pardon?
30.
ROGOZHIN
Madame wants to know how soon you can be
ready.
HOLMES
Ready?
ROGOZHIN
To leave for Venice. All arrangements
have been made. You will spend one week
there with Madame...
HOLMES
Well, this is all very flattering. But
surely there are other me -- better men --
ROGOZHIN
To tell you truth, you were not first
choice. We considered Russian writer,
Tolstoi --
HOLMES
That's more like it. The man's a genius.
ROGOZHIN
Too old... Then we considered the
philosopher, Nietzsche --
HOLMES
Absolutely first-rate mind...
ROGOZHIN
Too German... And we considered
Tschaikowski --
HOLMES
Oh, you couldn't go wrong with
Tschaikowski --
ROGOZHIN
We could -- and we did. It was
catastrophe.
HOLMES
Why?
ROGOZHIN
You don't know? Because Tschaikowski --
how shall put it? Women not his glass of
tea.
31.
HOLMES
Pity, that.
PETROVA
(to Rogozhin)
Skazhite jemu chto je otchen dovolna etim
resheniem.
ROGOZHIN
Madame is very happy with final choice.
HOLMES
Madame mustn't be too hasty. She must
remember I'm an Englishman.
ROGOZHIN
So?
HOLMES
You know what they say about us. If
there's one thing more deplorable than
our cooking, it's our love-making. We
are not exactly the most romantic of
people --
ROGOZHIN
Perfect. We don't want sentimental
idiots -- falling in love, committing
suicide. One week in Venice -- she goes
back to St. Petersburg with baby -- you
go back to London with fiddle.
HOLMES
An equitable arrangement.
(puts down violin)
About my medical history -- when you
asked me -- I neglected to mention a
small detail. There is hemophilia in my
family. We're all bleeders.
ROGOZHIN
(to Petrova)
On govorit, chto v jevo semie stradajut
ghemofilijei.
PETROVA
Pust nie bezpokoitsa. Ja ostrighu sebe
noghti.
32.
ROGOZHIN
Madame says not to worry. She will not
scratch you.
HOLMES
That's reassuring to know. But --
PETROVA
(to Rogozhin)
Pochemu on kolebletsa? On nie nahodit
menia dostatochno privlekatelnoi?
ROGOZHIN
Madame says you talk too much. You find
her attractive or no?
Before Holmes can answer, the door opens and Watson
sticks his head in. He is flushed and slightly
inebriated, and there is a flower tucked behind his ear.
From off comes the SOUND of wild balalaika music.
WATSON
Excuse me.
(to Rogozhin)
What does prokanzik mean?
ROGOZHIN
It means 'You little devil.'
WATSON
It does? I am? Thank you.
He hurries off, shutting the door.
ROGOZHIN
(to Holmes)
I repeat question. You find Madame
attractive or no?
Holmes is still looking at the door where Watson exited,
an idea forming in his mind.
HOLMES
(turning to Rogozhin)
Oh, I find her most attractive -- for a
woman, that is.
ROGOZHIN
Then no problem.
33.
HOLMES
Maybe a slight one. You see, I am not a
free man.
ROGOZHIN
Not free? You are a bachelor.
HOLMES
A bachelor -- living with another
bachelor -- for the last five years.
Five very happy years.
ROGOZHIN
What is it you are trying to tell me?
HOLMES
I hoped I could avoid the subject. But
some of us -- through a cruel caprice of
Mother Nature --
ROGOZHIN
Get to point.
HOLMES
The point is that Tschaikowski is not an
isolated case.
ROGOZHIN
You mean, you and Dr. Watson -- ?
(Holmes nods)
He is your glass of tea?
HOLMES
If you want to be picturesque about it.
PETROVA
(slightly agitated)
Chto on govorit? Pri chom tut
Chaikovsky?
ROGOZHIN
On pederast.
PETROVA
(on her feet now; flaring)
Jescho odin? Eto stanovitsa odnoobrasno!
Kakoi vi idiot!
34.
HOLMES
(picking up his silk hat and
cane)
Believe me, Madame, the loss is all mine.
But I would prefer to disappoint you know
than disappoint you in a gondola in
Venice.
He takes her limp hand, kisses it. Then he crosses to
the door.
HOLMES
(imitating Rogozhin's accent)
It would have been catastrophe.
He exits. Rogozhin starts to pour himself another glass
of vodka. Petrova slaps the glass out of his hand.
PETROVA
(screaming)
Potchemu vi nie vijasnili eto eto ranshe,
prezhde chem posoritj menia!
STAGE
The party has built into a real wingding by now. It's
wild -- drinking, laughing, singing. Everybody is turned
on -- especially Watson. He is dancing with a dozen of
the ballerinas to madly accelerating balalaika music.
Flower behind ear, hair mussed, tie undone, short of
breath -- he is in paradise.
Holmes makes his way through the revelers, approaches
Watson.
HOLMES
Watson!
(Watson pays no attention)
Watson, are you coming?
WATSON
(without missing a step)
What is it, old boy?
HOLMES
We're going home.
35.
WATSON
Home? Not a chance. Not the slightest --
not the remotest chance. Toodle-ooo.
He waves goodbye, and goes on swirling dizzily with the
girls. Holmes puts on his silk hat and leaves.
A shaken Rogozhin comes up to the buffet, pours himself a
stiff drink of vodka. As he drinks his eyes follow the
dancing Watson balefully.
Watson spins off several of the girls, grabs another
group. His ex-partners wind up close to Rogozhin. He
whispers something to them. Their eyes widen, and they
stare at Watson with disbelief. Watson again switches
partners, and the first girls now whisper intensely to
those who just left the floor. The same reaction.
Watson, oblivious to all this, is whirling around with
another set of girls.
By now some of the girls who are in on the secret are
whispering to the male dancers in tights. Their reaction
is slightly different. They are seeing Watson in a new
light. And before Watson knows what's happening, he has
been abandoned by all the girls, and is joined first by
one pair then another pair of male dancers, till he is
dancing only with gay guys in tights. It gradually dawns
on Watson that there is something wrong with this state
of affairs. After some difficulty, he breaks away from
them.
WATSON
Hold on! Just a moment!
Spotting Rogozhin, he crosses to him. The girls shrink
away at his approach.
WATSON
(bewildered)
What's going on? What happened to the
girls?
ROGOZHIN
Why? Do you not prefer it this way?
WATSON
What way?
36.
ROGOZHIN
You don't have to pretend. Mr. Holmes
told us everything -- about you and him --
WATSON
About me and him?
ROGOZHIN
Come now, no need to be bashful. We are
not bourgeois. Maybe with doctors and
detectives is unusual -- but in ballet,
is very usual.
WATSON
What is?
ROGOZHIN
Caprice of Mother Nature. Look at Pavel
and Mischa and Boris and Dmitri --
Watson looks around at the boys in tights, who are
standing in a half-circle, grinning at him insolently.
It is beginning to dawn on him. He pales.
ROGOZHIN
-- And Ilya and Sergei --
(breaks off, rocks his hand
back and forth)
Sergei -- half and half.
He pours himself another vodka. Watson grabs the glass
away from him, downs it with a gulp.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT
In contrast to the frenetic ambiance of the back-stage
party, the room seems doubly placid. Holmes, his dinner
coat replaced by a smoking jacket, is sitting in the wing
chair, having a quiet pipe after the evening's peculiar
adventure. Only the desk lamp is lit. From the street,
there is the sound of hurried, angry footsteps
approaching the house. Holmes turns his head languidly --
he knows who is coming.
37.
EXT. BAKER STREET - NIGHT
An enraged Watson, cane and opera glasses in hand, and
the flower still behind his ear, is jogging down the
center of the deserted street.
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Holmes rises casually, twists the wing chair so that its
back is to the door, crosses to the lamp on the desk,
turns the wick down. From off comes the sound of
Watson's key rattling in the front door lock.
STAIRCASE - 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT
The front door opens and Watson storms into the
vestibule.
WATSON
Holmes!
He races up the stairs and across the landing, flings
open the door of the flat.
WATSON
Holmes!
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Watson, grim and breathless, stands in the open doorway.
Over the back of the wing chair, he sees smoke curling up
from Holmes' pipe.
WATSON
There you are, you wretch! You rotter!
You blackguard! Of all the vile,
unspeakable fabrications. What do you
have to say for yourself?
No answer from Holmes. We now see -- but Watson does not
-- that the chair is occupied by a section of Holmes'
smoking machine, with the pipe attached.
WATSON
Don't just sit there -- speak up, man!
38.
Still no answer -- just a little pipe smoke drifting up
from the wing chair. Incensed, Watson raises the opera
glasses, tosses them toward the chair. There is a loud
thud, the pipe falls to the floor, then there is silence.
Watson suddenly becomes concerned.
WATSON
Holmes...? Are you all right, Holmes?
He approaches the chair apprehensively, shoves it aside --
and there on the floor is the smoking machine, still
wheezing slightly. Watson picks it up, and his eyes
travel to Holmes, standing in a shadowy corner, working
the bellows with his foot.
HOLMES
From the sound of your footsteps, I
gathered that you were not in a
particularly amiable mood.
WATSON
(with renewed fury)
How could you do a dastardly thing like
that to me? What the deuce were you
thinking of?
He dashes the smoking machine to the floor.
HOLMES
Watson, you have my most abject
apologies. But have you ever been
cornered by a madwoman? It seemed like
the only way to get out of it without
hurting her feelings.
WATSON
What about my feelings? And my
reputation? Do you realize the gravity
of what you have done? The possible
repercussions?
HOLMES
So there'll be a little gossip about you
in St. Petersburg...
WATSON
These things spread like wildfire. I can
just hear those malicious whispers behind
my back. I'll never be able to show my
face in polite society...
39.
And if it ever got back to my old
regiment -- you don't know the Fifth
Northumberland Fusiliers -- they'll
strike me off the rolls -- they'll cut
off my pension...
HOLMES
Watson, you're running amok.
WATSON
Dishonored, disgraced, ostracized. What
am I to do?
HOLMES
Well, for one thing, I'd get rid of that
flower.
He points to the flower behind Watson's ear. Watson
grabs the flower, hurls it into the fireplace.
WATSON
You may think this is funny, but we're
both in the same boat. We must take
desperate measures. We must stop this
talk...
(a beat, then an idea)
Maybe if we got married...
HOLMES
Then they'd really talk...
WATSON
(starts pacing)
Obviously, we cannot continue to live
under the same roof. We must move apart.
HOLMES
Of course, we can still see each other
clandestinely -- on remote benches in
Hyde Park, and in the waiting rooms of
suburban railway stations --
WATSON
(a change in attitude;
defiant)
The whole thing is ridiculous. We have
nothing to hide.
HOLMES
That's what I've been trying to tell you.
40.
WATSON
Let somebody start a rumor -- just one
ugly word -- and we'll sue them for
slander.
HOLMES
Nobody would dare. After all, you have
an enviable record with the fair sex.
WATSON
Damn right. I can get women from three
continents to testify for me. And you
can get women to vouch for you, too --
can't you, Holmes?
No answer from Holmes. Watson is becoming a little
concerned.
WATSON
Can you, Holmes?
HOLMES
Good night, Watson.
He starts toward his bedroom.
WATSON
Holmes, let me ask you a question --
(Holmes stops)
I hope I'm not being presumptuous -- but
there have been women in your life?
HOLMES
The answer is yes.
(a relieved sigh from Watson)
You're being presumptuous.
(Watson's face falls)
Good night.
He walks into his bedroom, shutting the door. Watson
takes a tentative step after him.
WATSON
Holmes...
DISSOLVE TO:
41.
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT
There is a cheery fire burning in the grate. Holmes is
stretched out full-length on the couch, playing a set of
Corelli variations on his violin. Watson is in his usual
chair, reading the Evening Standard.
WATSON'S VOICE
What, indeed, was his attitude toward
women? Was there some secret he was
holding back -- or was he just a thinking
machine, incapable of any emotion?
EXT. BAKER STREET - NIGHT
Wisps of fog swirl along the street, making yellow haloes
around street lamps.
WATSON'S VOICE
I was not to get the answer until we
became involved in what I consider to be
the most outrageous case in all our years
together.
Out of the mist comes a hansom cab, with the dim figure
of a woman visible in the passenger seat. The cab stops
in front of 221B, and the driver starts to get down.
From upstairs comes the faint sound of violin music.
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Watson steps up to the window, pulls the curtain aside,
looks down toward the street.
EXT. 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT
The cabbie crosses the pavement, consults an address in
his hand, glances up at the number of the house, then
rings the bell.
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT
Watson turns away from the window, as the BELL downstairs
rings again. Holmes stops playing.
42.
WATSON
Were you expecting someone?
HOLMES
Not at this hour.
WATSON
Maybe Mrs. Hudson is entertaining.
HOLMES
I never found her so.
Watson crosses to the door, opens it, steps out. Holmes
resumes playing Corelli.
VESTIBULE AND STAIRCASE - 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT
Mrs. Hudson, in a robe and night-cap, is talking to the
cabbie in the open street door when Watson appears on the
landing above.
WATSON
What is it, Mrs. Hudson?
MRS. HUDSON
(looking up)
There's a cabbie here -- he says you owe
him two-and-six.
WATSON
For what?
CABBIE
(to Watson)
For the fare, guv'nor. The young lady
doesn't have any money.
WATSON
What young lady?
CABBIE
This one.
He reaches out the door, pulls in the young lady in
question. She is in her early thirties, with strikingly
handsome features, but at the moment she is somewhat
worse for wear. She is wrapped in a blanket, her hair is
wet, and there is a bruise on her temple.
43.
She is wearing and wedding ring and her name, we will
subsequently learn, is GABRIELLE.
WATSON
Well. What have we here?
(he starts down the stairs)
Who are you, miss? What happened to you?
GABRIELLE
(slight accent)
I don't know.
CABBIE
That's all she keeps saying -- I don't
know, I don't know.
The violin music stops o.s. Watson has now reached the
foot of the stairs.
WATSON
Where did she come from?
CABBIE
From the river. I was driving down the
Embankment, just below Westminster
Bridge, and there she was in the water --
drowning.
Holmes appears on the landing above, violin and bow in
his hand.
CABBIE
It wasn't easy, guv'nor -- what with the
cold water -- and her fighting me --
HOLMES
(from the upper landing)
Why did you bring her here?
CABBIE
Because I found this in her hand --
(gives a square of soggy
cardboard to Watson)
-- 221B Baker Street -- that's right,
isn't it?
Watson examines the cardboard, nods.
44.
HOLMES
(to Gabrielle)
Young lady -- what did you want at this
address?
GABRIELLE
(looking up, trying to focus)
I do not remember.
WATSON
(to Holmes)
Rather perplexing, wouldn't you say?
HOLMES
Rather.
CABBIE
Well, gentlemen, you want her? -- it's
two-and-six -- or shall I throw her back
in the river?
MRS. HUDSON
Mr. Holmes. You can't let him --
HOLMES
Watson, you'd better accept delivery.
Watson fishes some coins out of his pocket, hands them to
the cabbie.
WATSON
Keep the change.
CABBIE
Thank you, guv'nor.
He snatches the blanket off Gabrielle, revealing that her
dress is clinging to her damply.
CABBIE
No extra charge for the use of the horse-
blanket.
He exits into the street, shutting the door. Gabrielle
hugs herself for warmth.
WATSON
You're shivering, my dear.
(he puts his arm around her)
45.
Come along. Let me get you out of those
wet clothes.
He starts to lead her up the stairs.
EXT. BAKER STREET - NIGHT
The cabbie has tossed the blanket into the hansom, and is
mounting the driver's seat. Across the street, a man
steps out of the fog into a pool of light cast by one of
the street lamps. He is a craggy-faced Prussian of about
fifty, and his name is VON TIRPITZ. He looks up toward
the Holmes flat. As the hansom makes a U-turn and comes
abreast of him, he hops into the cab. The hansom
disappears into the fog.
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT
Watson is leading Gabrielle to a chair by the fireplace.
Holmes is putting his violin down on the table.
WATSON
Sit here, my dear.
He settles her in the chair. Holmes comes over, plucks
the square of cardboard from Watson's hand.
WATSON
She's suffering from shock and exposure.
He starts to massage her wrists to restore her
circulation.
Holmes is examining the soggy cardboard. On one side is
their address, written in pencil. He turns it over,
disclosing some smudges of green ink on the other side.
HOLMES
There was some printing on the back of
this -- but it seems to have come off in
the water.
Watson is now studying the bruise on Gabrielle's temple.
WATSON
Look at this -- she's had a nasty blow on
the head.
HOLMES
46.
Could she have hit her head when she fell
or jumped into the river?
WATSON
No. The blood has already coagulated.
So it would appear that she was the
victim of a deliberate attack... Get my
bag, will you?
As Holmes fetches the medical bag, Gabrielle looks from
one to the other.
GABRIELLE
Who are you?
WATSON
I'm Dr. Watson -- and this is Mr.
Sherlock Holmes. Do the names mean
anything to you?
GABRIELLE
No.
WATSON
Think.
GABRIELLE
I'm trying.
HOLMES
Can you think of your own name?
GABRIELLE
(a beat, then shakes her
head)
No.
WATSON
She's obviously had a concussion -- which
often leads to temporary amnesia.
He has now taken some cotton and a bottle of antiseptic
out of the medical bag, and is swabbing her wound.
HOLMES
So all we know is that she was coshed on
the head, dumped into the Thames, and
subsequently dumped into our laps.
47.
WATSON
We know a lot more than that. From her
accent, we know she is foreign -- from
her ring, we know she is married -- and
there is one other clue we have...
Something I deduced while I was helping
her up the stairs. No corset.
HOLMES
Good work.
He glances down at Gabrielle's shoe, which has slipped
off her foot. Inside, slightly worn away, are the words:
LA FEMME ELEGANTE.
HOLMES
(to Gabrielle)
Are you French?
(in Berlitz French)
Vous etes Francaise?
GABRIELLE
(concentrating -- then)
Non, je ne suis pas Francaise.
WATSON
How can she say she's not French, in
French?
HOLMES
Vous etes Suisse?
GABRIELLE
Non.
HOLMES
Alors, vous etes Belge.
GABRIELLE
(haltingly)
Je suis pas sure.
Holmes reaches behind her, turns back the collar of her
dress. Sewn inside is a label reading: BAZAAR MODERN,
Bruxelles.
HOLMES
Vous etes Belge -- de Bruxelles!
48.
GABRIELLE
Bruxelles? Oui... Je pense que oui.
Mrs. Hudson has come in with a loaded tea-tray, starts to
put it down on the table.
MRS. HUDSON
Oh, dash. Will someone remove the
violin, please?
Watson takes the violin off the table, and she sets down
the tray.
WATSON
We just found out that she's Belgian.
MRS. HUDSON
Poor thing.
WATSON
From Brussels.
HOLMES
(taking Gabrielle's hand)
If you don't mind.
He slips the wedding ring off her finger, picks up a
magnifying glass, examines it. It is made of copper, and
engraved on the inside is the inscription: Gabrielle -
Emile.
HOLMES
Your name is Gabrielle, is that right?
Gabrielle?
GABRIELLE
I don't know.
HOLMES
And your husband's name is Emile?
GABRIELLE
(vaguely)
Emile...
HOLMES
Where is he? What are you doing in
London?
49.
GABRIELLE
I don't know.
HOLMES
When did you arrive from Brussels? Where
are you staying?
GABRIELLE
I don't know.
HOLMES
What happened at the river? Think!
Pensez! Concentrez vous!
Gabrielle bursts into sobs.
WATSON
(stepping forward)
That's enough, Holmes. I will not permit
you to question her in this condition.
(helps the sobbing Gabrielle
out of the chair)
Mrs. Hudson, put her to bed. My bed.
(Mrs. Hudson gives him a
look)
I'll sleep on the couch.
MRS. HUDSON
Come, my dear.
She puts her arm around Gabrielle, who is still crying,
leads her into Watson's bedroom.
WATSON
I'd better mix her a sleeping potion.
He gets a packet of white powder out of his medical bag,
and during the following, stirs a spoonful into her tea-
cup.
HOLMES
Watson, I think we should arrange to have
her removed to a hospital.
WATSON
Under no circumstances.
HOLMES
She should have medical attention.
50.
WATSON
She can get that from me. But more
importantly, she must be protected --
there has already been one attempt on her
life.
HOLMES
This temporary amnesia -- how temporary
is it?
WATSON
It depends on the extent of the injury.
It's like veils shrouding her memory. It
could clear up in a few days -- or a few
weeks.
HOLMES
Watson, this is a very small flat -- we
don't want to clutter it up with women...
WATSON
Holmes, we've never had a case like this.
A woman comes to us with a problem -- we
don't know who the woman is -- and we
don't know what the problem is. Don't
you find that challenging?
HOLMES
Quite. But we can't afford to wait for
those veils to lift -- we must break
through them as quickly as possible.
WATSON
You really feel it's that urgent?
HOLMES
I do. The sooner we solve the case, the
sooner we can get rid of her.
WATSON
Oh.
He picks up the cup of tea with the sedative in it,
carries it toward the door of his bedroom.
DISSOLVE TO:
51.
EXT. BAKER STREET - DAWN
The street lamps are still lit. A policeman, on patrol
duty, is strolling along the sidewalk, swinging his
truncheon. Suddenly he sees something up ahead.
Alarmed, he ducks into the doorway of a building,
flattens himself against the door.
From the opposite direction comes a horse-drawn water-
sprinkling wagon. The spray covers the sidewalks as well
as the street.
The policeman waits till the wagon is past, then steps
out of the doorway relieved, resumes his patrol.
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - DAWN
Watson is asleep on the couch, covered with a blanket.
He doesn't look as if he were in a very comfortable
position.
INT. HOLMES' BEDROOM - DAWN
Holmes, in a dressing gown, is standing by the window,
studying the square of cardboard with the green smudges
on it. His bed has not been slept in.
INT. WATSON'S BEDROOM - DAWN
Gabrielle is asleep in Watson's bed. The door opens
slowly, and Holmes looks in. He studies the sleeping
Gabrielle for a moment, then quietly pulls the door shut.
As the latch clicks into place, Gabrielle awakes and sits
up in bed, her back to CAMERA. She is nude.
GABRIELLE
Emile?
She starts to get out of bed.
INT. HOLMES' BEDROOM - DAWN
Holmes is back in his room, once more examining the
cardboard by the light of the window. The door of
Watson's bedroom opens, and Gabrielle comes out.
52.
GABRIELLE
Emile?
Holmes looks up as Gabrielle appears in the open doorway.
GABRIELLE
Emile? Is that you, Emile?
HOLMES
(stepping into shadow)
Yes, Gabrielle.
GABRIELLE
(hurrying toward him)
Ah, Emile. I thought I'd never find you.
(embracing him)
Hold me. Hold me tight.
(Holmes puts his arms around
her)
It's been such a long time. So many
nights. You know what I did before I
left Brussels?
HOLMES
What?
GABRIELLE
I hope you won't be angry with me. I
bought myself an expensive negligee.
HOLMES
Did you?
GABRIELLE
(moving toward bed)
A pink negligee with maribou feathers.
Don't you think that's a foolish thing
for a married woman?
(she gets into bed, beckons
to him)
Come.
HOLMES
Where is the negligee?
GABRIELLE
In my luggage... Come here.
53.
HOLMES
(moving toward her)
And where is your luggage?
GABRIELLE
(impatiently)
I don't know. Come, my love. Come.
Please.
As she extends her right hand to him, in a beckoning
gesture, Holmes notices something on the palm. He takes
her hand in his. There, in the same green ink as the
smudges on the cardboard, are what appear the be the
letters "I", "O", and Greek "E". Crossing to the wash-
stand, he picks up his magnifying shaving mirror, returns
to the bed, holds it up against the palm of Gabrielle's
hand.
GABRIELLE
What is it, Emile? What are you doing?
Clearly reflected in the mirror is the reverse image of
the lettering on Gabrielle's palm -- the number "301".
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - DAY
The table is set for breakfast, and Mrs. Hudson is
opening the curtains, flooding the room with sunlight.
Then she moves over to the couch, where Watson is
sleeping in an awkward position.
MRS. HUDSON
Dr. Watson!
(she claps her hands and he
wakes up)
Your porridge is getting lumpy. Hadn't
you better get up?
Watson tries to rise, falls back with a moan.
WATSON
I would like to very much. But --
(he turns over on his
stomach)
Mrs. Hudson, would you mind planting your
knee in the small of my back?
54.
MRS. HUDSON
Yes, I would.
WATSON
Please! I'm in excruciating pain.
Mrs. Hudson tentatively rests her knee on Watson's back.
WATSON
A bit higher -- just below my seventh
vertebra --
(Mrs. Hudson follows
instructions)
That's good. Put your arms under mine --
fold them behind my neck --
Mrs. Hudson presses down harder, and there is a distinct
snap.
WATSON
Bless you.
(he rises, rubbing his neck)
That damn couch.
(crossing to table)
You'd better see if our patient is awake.
He seats himself at the table. Mrs. Hudson crosses to
the door of Watson's bedroom, opens it, starts inside,
then stops.
MRS. HUDSON
Dr. Watson. She's gone.
WATSON
Gone?
He jumps up from the table, joins Mrs. Hudson, looks past
her. The bed is empty. Gabrielle's clothes are in
evidence, but there is no sign of her.
Watson strides towards Holmes' bedroom.
WATSON
Holmes! Holmes! She's gone!
He throws the door open, is about to step inside when he
sees something that makes him freeze.
55.
INT. HOLMES' BEDROOM - DAY
Gabrielle is asleep in Holmes' bed, covered by just a
sheet, and obviously naked underneath. Holmes is not in
the room.
Mrs. Hudson comes up behind Watson, in the open doorway,
peers over his shoulder.
MRS. HUDSON
(scandalized)
Well, I never!
There is the sound of the hall door opening, and they
both turn.
INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY
Holmes breezes in, carrying a large suitcase, with
leather straps around it. Tucked under the straps is a
white parasol. And attached to the handle of the
suitcase is a cardboard tag with the number 301 on it, in
green.
HOLMES
(inhaling deeply)
Mmmmm. I smell porridge. Lumpy as
usual, I suppose.
He sets the suitcase down on the couch, as Watson and
Mrs. Hudson approach.
WATSON
Oh, there you are, Holmes. We were just
wondering -- how --
(points from his bedroom to
Holmes')
MRS. HUDSON
(sternly)
We certainly were.
HOLMES
Mrs. Hudson, why don't you go down to the
kitchen -- get a towel -- and wipe that
look of disapproval off your face.
56.
MRS. HUDSON
Liberties -- in my house!
She exits huffily.
WATSON
You can't really blame her -- I mean, the
way it looks -- if I didn't know you
better, I might suspect you'd taken
advantage of the young lady.
HOLMES
As a matter of fact, I did take advantage
of her... Would you hand me the butter-
knife, please?
WATSON
Of course.
He picks up the butter-knife from the table, suddenly
turns back with a delayed reaction.
WATSON
You did what?
HOLMES
(taking butter-knife from
him)
Thank you.
He starts to pry open the locks of the suitcase with the
butter-knife.
WATSON
(spluttering)
Holmes, this is reprehensible! Where are
your professional ethics? Have you no
sense of decency, no shame --
HOLMES
None whatsoever. If you must know, I
found her body quite rewarding.
WATSON
You cad!
HOLMES
Especially the palm of her right hand.
57.
WATSON
I'd rather not hear about it!
HOLMES
Very well. Then I won't bother to tell
you how I traced her suitcase.
WATSON
That's her suitcase?
HOLMES
Remember that piece of soggy cardboard
with our address on it? It was a luggage
ticket -- the number rubbed off on her
hand. And since she must have arrived
from Brussels by the boat train, I
concluded that she had checked her
belongings at Victoria Station.
WATSON
By Jove! If you're right, we should find
a clue to her identity.
Holmes has now forced open the locks.
HOLMES
Or at least a pink negligee with maribou
feathers.
He opens the suitcase, lifts out the top piece of
clothing, holds it up -- a pink negligee with maribou
feathers.
HOLMES
Voila!
WATSON
Let's see - what else is in here?
They start sorting through the clothes in the suitcase.
Holmes removes a tied bundle of letters.
HOLMES
Now we're getting somewhere.
As he examines the envelope, Watson takes out a framed
photo of a rather attractive man of fifty.
WATSON
Who do you suppose this is?
58.
Gabrielle appears from Holmes' bedroom wearing Holmes'
dressing gown. She is unsteady on her feet and somewhat
dazed. Holmes looks up.
HOLMES
Come in, Madame Valladon.
(Gabrielle stops)
You are Gabrielle Valladon.
GABRIELLE
Yes.
HOLMES
(holding up photo)
And this is your husband, Emile Valladon?
GABRIELLE
Yes.
Her eyes fall on the open suitcase.
HOLMES
Sorry to have ransacked your valise. But
since you came to us for help --
GABRIELLE
Where am I?
WATSON
221B Baker Street.
GABRIELLE
Oh, yes...
(a beat, as she orients
herself)
Which of you is Mr. Holmes and which is
Dr. Watson?
HOLMES
Dr. Watson is the handsome one.
Watson, pleased, twirls the end of his mustache.
Gabrielle sways slightly.
HOLMES
That's the way he affects most women.
He helps her into a chair.
59.
WATSON
(to Gabrielle)
Coffee. You want strong coffee.
He hurries over to the breakfast table.
GABRIELLE
It's all so confusing.
HOLMES
Let's try to sort it out. You came to
London looking for your husband...
GABRIELLE
Yes. He's a mining engineer. We were
married five years ago, in the Congo.
HOLMES
Where your husband was working in a
copper mine.
GABRIELLE
How did you know?
HOLMES
Your wedding ring -- it's made of copper.
He picks it up from the chemistry table, hands it to her.
Gabrielle starts to put it on.
GABRIELLE
Last year he invented a new kind of air
pump, and was hired by an English
company, Jonah Limited.
WATSON
(handing her cup of of
coffee)
Here you are.
HOLMES
Jonah Limited. Go on.
GABRIELLE
We've been writing to each other
regularly. Then suddenly, three weeks
ago, his letters stopped. I kept writing
... but no answer. Finally I decided to
go to that address --
60.
She indicates the bundle of letters. Holmes glances at
the return address on the back of the envelope.
HOLMES
32 Ashdown Street.
GABRIELLE
Yes. It's just an empty store -- nobody
there. Then I tried to find Jonah
Limited. No such company exists.
WATSON
How decidedly odd.
HOLMES
Madame Valladon, can you think of any
reason why your husband should have lied
to you about theses things?
GABRIELLE
Emile? Never. He loves me -- and I love
him.
HOLMES
So I gathered.
GABRIELLE
I went to the police -- they said they
would send out a missing persons report --
but they didn't sound too encouraging.
Then I went to the Belgian embassy and
explained the situation to them -- and
they suggested that I consult you...
WATSON
You could have done worse.
GABRIELLE
I was on my way here -- and suddenly
there were footsteps behind me -- and a
hand over my mouth -- and the smell of
choloroform -- and the next thing I knew
I was in the water -- and then a man was
wrapping me in a blanket --
HOLMES
Madame Valladon, somebody tried to kill
you last night. Do you have any idea who
could have done it?
61.
GABRIELLE
I don't understand any of it.
(rises, goes to Holmes)
What does it all mean, Mr. Holmes? Where
is my husband? You must help me find
him.
WATSON
We'll do our best, I assure you.
HOLMES
Madame Valladon, I want you to send one
more letter to your husband.
He crosses to the desk, picks up a sheet of paper and an
envelope, then leads Gabrielle over to the chair with the
writing arm, seats her in it.
HOLMES
To Emile Valladon -- Ashdown Street --
what was that number?
GABRIELLE
(addressing envelope)
32. What do you want me to say in the
letter?
HOLMES
Nothing.
He folds the blank sheet of paper, and as Gabrielle
finishes addressing the envelope, he inserts the paper in
it, starts to seal it.
WATSON
You're sending an empty sheet of paper to
an empty shop?
HOLMES
That empty shop is obviously being used
as an accomodation address, or letter-
drop. But what gets dropped must be
picked up. The question is how? -- and
by whom? -- and why?
DISSOLVE TO:
62.
EXT. ASHDOWN STREET - DAY
This is a run-down district in the northwestern part of
London. On the corner is No. 32 -- a dilapidated
abandoned shop, with windows painted halfway up.
As CAMERA APPROACHES the building, we hear sawing from
inside.
INT. EMPTY SHOP - DAY
It is dusty, cobwebby, quite forbidding. In the rear
wall is a closed sliding door, indented about a foot into
the shop. Nearby stands a large, square object, covered
with a tarpaulin.
High up in the rear wall is a slanted skylight, fitted
with an iron grill. From outside, Holmes, in deerstalker
and Inverness, can be seen sawing through the iron bars.
Watson and Gabrielle are beside him.
HOLMES
Hammer... Chisel.
Watson hands him the indicated tools. Holmes chips away
the cement from the top and bottom of the last bar, then
using it as a hinge, swings the grill open. He lets
himself through the skylight, drops to the floor. Watson
now helps Gabrielle through the skylight, lowers her
toward Holmes, who puts his arms around her waist, eases
her to the floor. For a brief moment he keeps his arms
around her. Watson has now squeezed through the
skylight.
WATSON
Here!
He hands the tools to Holmes, jumps to the floor.
Gabrielle is looking around the shop.
GABRIELLE
It's so strange to think I've been
writing to a place like this all these
months.
Watson crosses to the square tarpaulin-covered object.
He lifts up one corner of the tarp -- and is greeted by a
loud twittering of birds.
63.
What he has uncovered is a large cage -- and about a
hundred canaries, suddenly disturbed, are flapping around
unside.
WATSON
Look at all these canaries. Do you
suppose this could have been a pet shop?
HOLMES
Maybe.
(pointing off)
Here comes our letter.
Through the front window, the silhouette of a postman can
be seen approaching. He drops a letter through the slot
in the front door, moves on. The letter lands on a
section of floor which is solidly covered with dust --
except for a series of double tracks, running to the door
and curving back.
HOLMES
Now we are faced with the most nerve-
wracking part of the detective's job --
doing nothing.
He reassembles the three tools, fitting each section into
another, to form a cane.
GABRIELLE
Mr. Holmes --
HOLMES
Yes?
GABRIELLE
I don't know how I'm going to pay you for
all this. The purse with my money is
somewhere at the bottom of the Thames.
HOLMES
It could be worse. You could be at the
bottom of the Thames -- much to your
discomfort -- and much to my chagrin.
WATSON
I don't understand how anybody picks up
letters here.
(pointing)
No footprints -- just tracks. What does
it mean?
64.
HOLMES
I would surmise somebody is using ice-
skates -- if it weren't for a conspicuous
absence of ice.
They become aware of a squeaking noise outside the rear
of the shop, growing louder as it gets nearer. The noise
stops, there is the sound of a lock turning, then the
rattle of a chain.
WATSON
(in a frantic whisper)
What do we do now?
HOLMES
(unfazed)
This way.
He leads Gabrielle and Watson toward the rear wall, right
next to the door. They flatten themselves with their
backs to the wall, just as the door slides open --
concealing them from view.
Revealed is the mews behind the shop. In the door is an
old BIDDY with straggly hair, sitting in a wheelchair.
In her lap are a bulky paper bag and a tin pitcher filled
with water. As she wheels herself inside, the unoiled
wheelchair squeaks loudly. She stops in front of the
cage, pulls on a rope which runs through a pulley in the
ceiling -- and the tarpaulin rises into the air, exposing
the canaries.
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
(addressing birds)
Good morning, my pretties. Here's Mum
with your breakfast. Did you think I'd
forgotten you?
She pours grain from the paper bag into a feeder hanging
inside the cage, pours water from the pitcher into a
trough.
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
Some of you will be going on a little
trip soon -- I hate to lose you -- but
even an old woman has to live. Although
you might well ask, why?
She cackles to herself, glances toward the front door.
65.
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
Oh. You never told me we had a letter.
She starts to wheel herself toward the front of the shop.
Through a crack in the door behind which our three are
hiding, we see Holmes' eye watching her.
The old woman reaches the letter, picks it up, studies
the address. Then she hears something, glances toward
the open rear door.
A horse-drawn wagon with a canvas top is just pulling
into the mews. Two CARTERS jump down from the driver's
seat, and one of them takes a small bird-cage from the
back of the wagon. As they start in through the door,
the old woman drops the letter into her lap, wheels
herself toward them.
FIRST CARTER
Morning, Duchess.
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
Morning.
SECOND CARTER
What have you been doing with yourself?
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
What do you think? Taking dancing
lessons.
(she stops in front of the
cage)
How many do you want this time?
FIRST CARTER
Two dozen.
He opens the door of the small cage, the bottom of which
is covered with newspaper, starts transferring canaries
into it from the large cage.
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
What are they doing with all those
canaries? What's going on up there?
SECOND CARTER
Look, Duchess, we don't know -- and we
don't want to know.
66.
FIRST CARTER
When you work for Jonah, it's better not
to ask questions.
Through the crack in the door behind which he is hidden,
we see Holmes' eye studying the small bird cage, as the
canaries are being transferred into it.
We MOVE IN CLOSE on the small cage, and see the soiled
newspaper spread on the bottom. The masthead reads:
INVERNESS COURIER.
FIRST CARTER
(counting as he transfers
canaries)
... twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-
four.
He closes the doors of the cages, picks up the small
cage. His companion indicates the letter in the woman's
lap.
SECOND CARTER
How about that letter? Does that go,
too?
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
No. That's going to be picked up in
person.
She chuckles. The carriers exit into the mews, stash the
cage in the back of the wagon, mount the driver's seat.
WOMAN IN WHEELCHAIR
(to birds)
All right, my pretties. Back to sleep
you go. See you tomorrow.
She pulls the rope and the tarpaulin drops back over the
cage. Then she deposits the letter on top of the covered
cage, wheels herself out the rear door. As she slides it
shut from outside, our trio is revealed in their hiding
places behind the door. There is the sound of the chain
rattling, the lock snapping, and the squeaky wheels
moving off.
WATSON
(a sigh of relief)
I really thought we were done for.
67.
HOLMES
(casually)
The art of concealment, my dear Watson,
is merely a matter of being in the right
place at the right time.
They step forward, and through the painted shop window
watch the old woman wheel herself down the street.
GABRIELLE
Did you hear what she said? You really
think Emile is going to pick up the
letter himself?
HOLMES
It certainly would simplify things,
wouldn't it?
WATSON
(shaking his head)
Maildrops and canaries and wheelchairs...
And what was all that about Jonah? And
what do you suppose they're doing up
there? And where is up there?
HOLMES
My guess would be Scotland. Inverness,
to be more precise.
WATSON
Inverness?
HOLMES
Didn't you notice the paper at the bottom
of their cage? The Inverness Courier.
Gabrielle glances casually at the letter the old woman
left lying on top of the cage, and her expression
changes.
GABRIELLE
Mr. Holmes! This letter --
(she picks it up)
HOLMES
What about it?
GABRIELLE
(holding it out to him)
It's addressed to you.
68.
Holmes takes the letter, examines the envelope. It is
indeed addressed to him.
HOLMES
Nevertheless --
With the saw-end of his cane, he slits the envelope open,
removes the enclosure, unfolds it. We see the letter in
his hand as he reads it out loud. The letterhead says:
DIOGENES CLUB, St. James's, London.
HOLMES
(reading)
My Dear Sherlock: I expect you and Dr.
Watson to join me at the club immediately
upon reciept of this note. According to
my calculations, that should be at 11:40
a.m. Your brother, Mycroft.
(looking up)
What time do you make it, Watson?
WATSON
(consulting watch)
11:43.
HOLMES
Either your watch is wrong, or Mycroft
has miscalculated. And knowing Mycroft,
I suggest you reset your watch.
Watson automatcially obeys.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. DIOGENES CLUB - DAY
Holmes, cane in hand, and Watson are swiftly ascending
the steps of a building with an imposing Palladian
facade. Beside the entrance is a discreet sign reading:
DIOGENES CLUB. Members Only. As they reach the top of
the steps, Watson stops Holmes.
WATSON
I don't mind telling you I'm a bit
apprehensive about this.
69.
HOLMES
I'm rather curious myself as to what is
going on in that Machiavellian mind of
his.
WATSON
I don't mean Mycroft, I mean Madame
Valladon.
HOLMES
Don't worry. She's perfectly safe with
Mrs. Hudson.
He opens the door and they start in.
INT. LOBBY - DIOGENES CLUB - DAY
Dominating the lobby is a large statue of Queen Victoria.
Presiding over the reception desk is a uniformed PORTER
of military bearing, with one arm and a chest full of
campaign ribbons. Holmes and Watson stride in.
HOLMES
(to porter)
To see Mr. Mycroft Holmes.
PORTER
Right you are. He's expecting you in the
upstairs study. Now if you gentlemen
will sign in --
(opens leather-bound
register, turns it toward
them)
Surname, Christian name, address, nature
of business --
He holds out the pen to them, but they are gone. He
looks around in consternation, sees them hurrying up the
majestic staircase, steps out from behind his desk.
PORTER
Gentlemen...!
READING ROOM - DIOGENES CLUB - DAY
A huge room, with more marble than a mausoleum, and just
about as lively.
70.
A dozen elderly Establishment types are sunk deep in the
leather armchairs, buried behind their copies of The
Times. Holmes and Watson are proceeding toward the
study. Suddenly Holmes stops beside one of the old
fossils, who has fallen asleep in his chair, The Times in
his lap, and between his fingers a lighted cigar with an
ash four inches long. Holmes picks up an ashtray, holds
it under the cigar -- just in time to catch the falling
ash. As he replaces the ashtray, he scrutinizes the ash.
HOLMES
Jamaican, no doubt -- either Tropical or
Golosina -- I'm not quite sure.
He and Watson continue toward the study door.
INT. STUDY - DIOGENES CLUB - DAY
It is a very elegant room -- shelves of leather-bound
volumes reach to the high ceiling, there are antique
terrestrial and celestial gloves, scientific instruments
in polished brass, marble busts of English statesmen.
MYCROFT HOLMES is standing at a refectory table, with his
back to the door, engaged in a curious operation. A
dusty bottle of wine is held in an ingeniously engineered
cradle. As he turns the crank, the bottle tilts forward
gently, and he decants the wine into three glasses
without disturbing the sediment.
Mycroft is an impressive figure of a man, seven years
older than Sherlock, impeccably dressed. Behind his
snobbish airs and bantering manner, one senses tremendous
reserves of strength and authority.
The door opens, and Holmes and Watson enter.
MYCROFT
(without turning)
Come in, come in, Sherlock -- Dr.
Watson... Sit down.
(Holmes and Watson seat
themselves)
You're looking very fit, both of you.
WATSON
Thank you.
71.
HOLMES
(putting down hat and cane)
And how are you, Mycroft? How's your
gout?
MYCROFT
Under control. Except for the occasional
twinge.
He brings over two of the glasses of wine to Holmes and
Watson.
MYCROFT
I have a treat for you -- a very old
Madeira -- 1814. There are only six
bottles left in the world. I have two of
them, and am negotiating for a third.
WATSON
If you don't mind my saying so, anybody
who's susceptible to gout shouldn't be --
Mycroft has moved back to the table and picked up his
glass of Madeira.
MYCROFT
The last doctor who warned me about that
was crossing Piccadilly, slipped on an
orange peel, and was run over by a
delivery van from the Fortnum and Mason.
Your very good health.
He and Watson sip their drinks, but not Holmes.
HOLMES
Why are you wasting this precious stuff
on us?
MYCROFT
Well, I see you so rarely. How long has
it been? Not since the case of the Greek
interpreter.
(to Watson)
Isn't it ridiculous? Two brothers living
in the same town...
HOLMES
In the same town, perhaps -- but not the
same world.
72.
WATSON
(taking another sip)
Mmmm. Superb. How old did you say it
was?
MYCROFT
1814. One year before Waterloo.
WATSON
One year before Waterloo? Think of that.
MYCROFT
You do know where Waterloo is, don't you,
Doctor?
WATSON
Belgium, isn't it?
MYCROFT
Quite.
(turning to Holmes)
And speaking of Belgium, it has come to
my attention that you are interested in
the whereabouts of a certain engineer.
HOLMES
Yes, I am.
MYCROFT
Well, I can save you a lot of trouble.
HOLMES
I'd be grateful for any suggestion --
MYCROFT
My suggestion is that you pursue it no
further.
HOLMES
Any particular reason?
MYCROFT
Because it involves the national
security. We are handling this matter
ourselves.
WATSON
We? Who's we?
73.
HOLMES
The Diogenes Club, of course.
MYCROFT
I didn't say that.
HOLMES
I have always suspected that there was
some underground connection between this
stodgy and seemingly calcified
establishment and the Foreign Office in
Whitehall.
MYCROFT
That's neither here nor there.
HOLMES
It seems to me that The Diogenes Club is
here, there and everywhere. When there
are rumblings of revolt in the Sudan, an
expedition subsidized by your club
conveniently shows up to study the source
of the Nile. When there is trouble along
the Indian frontier, some of your fellow
members pop up in the Himalayas,
alledgedly looking for the Abominable
Snowman.
A YOUNG MAN in morning coat and striped trousers comes
in, holding a telegram. Mycroft crosses to him.
MYCROFT
(to Watson)
What a fertile imagination my brother
has. At the age of five, by
carefully observing a neighbor's house,
he deduced that babies were brought not
by the stork, but by the mid-wife in her
satchel.
WATSON
As good an explanation as any.
Mycroft has taken the telegram, and is coming forward
with it. The young man clears his throat.
MYCROFT
Yes, Wiggins?
74.
YOUNG MAN
An immediate answer is requested, sir.
Mycroft inserts a monocle in his eye, opens the telegram,
moves toward the desk reading it.
MYCROFT
Tell them that the three boxes go to
Glennahurich, and the red runner goes to
the castle.
YOUNG MAN
The three boxes to Glennahurich, the red
runner to the castle. Very good, sir.
He exits. Holmes glances toward the telegram as Mycroft
puts it down on his desk. Catching his look, Mycroft
turns his telegram face-down, lets the monocle drop from
his eye.
HOLMES
Why don't you crumple it up and swallow
it -- to make sure.
MYCROFT
My dear Sherlock, there are certain
affairs that do not come within the
province of the private detective. They
have to be dealt with on an altogether
different level.
HOLMES
In other words, you want me to stay
within my limits.
MYCROFT
I do indeed.
HOLMES
Speaking of limits, what exactly is Jonah
Limited?
MYCROFT
Sherlock, when I said drop this case, it
was not merely a suggestion -- it was an
order!
HOLMES
By whose authority?
75.
MYCROFT
By the authority of Her Majesty's
government. I hope I've made myself
clear.
WATSON
Perfectly.
In his nervousness he drops his bowler, which rolls along
the floor.
MYCROFT
Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen --
WATSON
Goodbye, sir.
HOLMES
A pleasure, as always.
He and Watson retrieve their hats, move toward the door.
MYCROFT
(to Holmes)
Just a minute.
(picks up Holmes' cane)
You forgot your tool-kit.
He tosses the cane to Holmes, who catches it.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BAKER STREET - DAY
Holmes and Watson are walking toward 221B. Holmes is
whistling 'Loch Lomond.'
WATSON
You will be gentle, won't you, when you
tell her you're dropping the case?
HOLMES
Watson, what does the word Glennahurich
suggest to you?
WATSON
Absolutely nothing.
76.
HOLMES
It's Scottish.
WATSON
Is it?
HOLMES
And like all Scottish names, it's really
a word picture. Glen means valley, na
means of the, and Hurich, if memory
serves me, means yew tree.
WATSON
You're just trying to impress me.
HOLMES
So the three boxes go to the Valley of
the Yew Tree.
He resumes whistling. They start to cross the street,
skirting a parked hansom. Feeding the horse is the same
cabbie who fished Gabrielle out of the river, and in the
passenger seat is Von Tirpitz, the craggy-faced Prussian
we saw before. He stares fixedly after Holmes and
Watson.
Holmes and Watson come up to the door of 221B, and Watson
fishes his key out. Holmes is still whistling.
WATSON
(singing along)
And I'll be in Scotland before ye...
(breaks off, looks at Holmes
apprehensively)
You are dropping the case, aren't you,
Holmes?
HOLMES
Open the door.
Watson turns the key in the lock, starts to open the
door, but is stopped by a chain on the inside. Through
the opening a revolver appears, aiming at them point-
blank.
HOLMES
Don't shoot, Mrs. Hudson -- you're liable
to lose two excellent tenants.
77.
INT. DOWNSTAIRS - 221B BAKER STEET - DAY
Mrs. Hudson withdraws the gun, unhooks the chain. She is
also holding an embroidery hoop. She opens the door, and
Holmes and Watson step into the vestibule.
MRS. HUDSON
Oh, at last. It's been a ghastly
experience.
WATSON
Why? What happened?
MRS. HUDSON
Did you ever try doing embroidery with a
gun in your hand?
HOLMES
(taking gun from her)
You'll be relieved to know it was not
loaded.
He starts up the stairs, followed by Watson.
WATSON
Holmes, you didn't answer my question.
Are you planning to disobey Mycroft's
orders? He's not just your brother, you
know. You'd be defying Her Majesty's
government...
No reaction from Holmes. As they reach the landing,
Gabrielle is waiting for them in the open doorway of
their flat.
GABRIELLE
Any news? Did you find out anything?
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - DAY
Holmes and Watson step inside.
HOLMES
Let's just say I know what the next step
will be.
78.
GABRIELLE
(anxious)
Yes?
HOLMES
I want you to pack your things.
GABRIELLE
Where are we going?
WATSON
Holmes, let me caution you ---
Holmes has put the gun down, and is crossing to one of
the book-shelves.
HOLMES
(to Gabrielle)
At 7:30 this evening, Dr. Watson and I
are going to take you to Victoria
Station, and put you on the boat-train.
GABRIELLE
The boat-train?
WATSON
Well, that's better.
Holmes has taken a railway guide from the shelf and is
consulting it.
GABRIELLE
You're sending me back to Brussels? Is
that it?
WATSON
Madame Valladon, you must understand...
GABRIELLE
(to Holmes, agitated)
I came here to find my husband -- you
were going to help me --
WATSON
Yes, my dear. But circumstances have
changed --
GABRIELLE
The great detective! Well, maybe this
case is too small for you --
79.
WATSON
On the contrary. It's being handled at a
much higher level --
GABRIELLE
Well, I won't go back to Brussels. Maybe
you're giving up, but I'm not.
(tears welling up in her
eyes)
I'm going to go on looking for him. And
nobody's going to stop me -- even if they
try to kill me.
HOLMES
(looking up from railway
guide)
Are you quite finished? If you recall,
what I said was that we're going to put
you on the boat-train -- I didn't say you
were going to stay on it.
WATSON
She's not?
HOLMES
At 7:30, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson will
be seen waving goodbye to Madame Valladon
at Victoria Station. At eight-twelve,
Mr. and Mrs. Ashdown accompanied by their
valet John --
(a glance at Watson)
-- will appear at Euston Station, and
board the Highland Express to Inverness.
WATSON
Mr. and Mrs.... ?
GABRIELLE
(moving toward Holmes)
Thank you. I'm sorry for what I said.
(kisses him on cheek)
HOLMES
That's not necessary.
GABRIELLE
(smiling through tears)
I'll go and pack.
She hurries off toward Watson's room.
80.
WATSON
(acidly)
Maybe I should do it, since I'm the
valet.
Holmes replaces the railway guide on the shelf.
WATSON
Holmes, what exactly are you up to?
HOLMES
As you like to put it in your chronicles,
the game is afoot.
WATSON
But what game? Are you really that
interested in the Belgian engineer?
Without answering, Holmes heads for his bedroom.
WATSON
Or the wife of the Belgian engineer?
Holmes, by this time in his bedroom, shuts the door.
Gabrielle reappears from the other bedroom, carrying a
glove.
GABRIELLE
You don't like me very much, do you?
She moves toward the couch.
WATSON
Nothing of the sort. Quite the
opposite... But there's more to this
case than meets the eye --
By this time Gabrielle has picked up her parasol from the
couch, and is obviously searching about.
WATSON
Looking for something?
GABRIELLE
My other glove.
WATSON
Let me help you.
81.
He peers under the couch. Gabrielle moves toward the
window, shakes the parasol, opens it a few times.
WATSON
Here it is.
He comes up from under the couch with the missing glove.
GABRIELLE
Thank you.
She slowly starts to shut the parasol.
EXT. BAKER STREET - DAY
Through the upstairs window of 221B we see Gabrielle
shutting the parasol. CAMERA PULLS BACK TO INCLUDE the
hansom parked across the street, and von Tirpitz
watching. He signals to the cabbie, who is back on his
perch. The cabbie flicks his whip, and the hansom takes
off down the street.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - NIGHT
The Highland Express is speeding northward through the
moonlit landscape, its steam whistle hooting mournfully.
INT. SLEEPING COMPARTMENT - NIGHT
The upper and lower berths have been made up in the
small, gaslit compartment. Gabrielle's dress is on a
hanger, but there is no sign of her at the moment.
Holmes is just pulling a night-shirt over his head.
HOLMES
All right. You can look now.
Gabrielle's head appears from under the covers of the
lower berth.
GABRIELLE
Am I embarrassing you, Mr. Holmes?
82.
HOLMES
Not at all. Would it surprise you if I
told you I once spent the night with 121
women?
GABRIELLE
Oh?
HOLMES
On a very interesting case -- in a harem
in Constantinople.
He starts to climb up the ladder to the upper berth.
INT. THIRD CLASS CARRIAGE - NIGHT
There is the normal complement of passengers, men, women
and children, of the middle and lower classes. The only
unusual occupants are a group of seven MONKS, in brown
habits and cowls.
Watson, in valet's livery, comes down the aisle, proceeds
toward a window-seat where he has left his umbrella and
bowler. The resf of the bench is occupied by monks, as
is the facing bench. As Watson tries to squeeze between
them, he steps on the foot of one of the monks.
WATSON
Sorry, father -- I mean, friar -- or is
it abbot?
There is no answer from the monk. Watson picks up his
bowler, settles himself in his seat, starts to fan
himself with his hat. He turns sociably to the monk
beside him, who is absorbed in his Bible.
WATSON
Going to Scotland, you gentlemen? So are
we...
As he fans himself the ear-pieces of his stethoscope,
which is coiled inside the crown of his bowler, dangle
down. He quickly shoves them back inside.
WATSON
I'm a valet. My master and mistress and
I are our way to Inverness. Ever been
there? Beautiful country.
83.
The monk looks up from his Bible, points to his lips,
shakes his head.
WATSON
Oh, forgive me. You must be one of those
orders that's taken the vow of silence.
Trappists, I believe you're called.
The monk doesn't answer. Watson turns away, looks out
the window -- but there's nothing to be seen. Then he
folds, bored. He glances casually at the Bible in the
monk's hands.
The Good Book is opened to a page headed: JONAH.
WATSON
I see you're reading the book of Jonah.
Funny - we were just talking about Johan
this morning...
(realizes the hopelessness of
the conversation, breaks
off)
Never mind.
He pulls down the shade, closes his eyes, tries to
compose himself into sleep.
INT. SLEEPING COMPARTMENT - NIGHT
Holmes is stretched out in the upper berth, which is in
darkness. In the lower, Gabrielle is propped up against
a pillow, reading a magazine by the light of a gas lamp.
Other magazines are scattered across her blanket.
GABRIELLE
Women are never to be trusted entirely --
not the best of them.
Holmes raises himself on his elbow, glances down over the
edge of his berth.
HOLMES
What did you say?
GABRIELLE
I didn't say it -- you did. According to
Dr. Watson.
84.
HOLMES
Oh.
GABRIELLE
He gave me some back issues of Strand
Magazine.
HOLMES
The good doctor is constantly putting
words into my mouth.
GABRIELLE
Then you deny it?
HOLMES
Not at all. I am not a whole-hearted
admirer of womankind.
GABRIELLE
I'm not very fond of them myself.
HOLMES
The most affectionate woman I ever knew
was a murderess.
GABRIELLE
Oh?
HOLMES
It was one of those passionate affairs --
at odd hours -- right in my laboratory.
And all the time, behind my back, she was
stealing cyanide to sprinkle on her
husband's steak and kidney pie.
GABRIELLE
You mustn't judge all women by --
HOLMES
Of course not. Only the ones I was
involved with. And I don't just mean
professionally -- kleptomaniacs,
nymphomaniacs, pyromaniacs. Take my
fiancee, for instance --
GABRIELLE
Your fiancee?
85.
HOLMES
She was the daughter of my violin teacher
-- we were engaged to be married -- the
invitations were out, I was being fitted
for a tail-coat -- and twenty-four hours
before the wedding, she died of
influenza.
GABRIELLE
I'm sorry.
HOLMES
It just proves my contention that women
are unreliable and not to be trusted.
(a beat)
Good night, Mrs. Ashdown.
He pulls the curtain across his berth.
GABRIELLE
Good night, Mr. Ashdown.
She closes her curtain, as the train whistle sounds.
INT. THIRD CLASS CARRIAGE - NIGHT
Most of the passengers in the car have fallen asleep, in
various uncomfortable positions, including Watson. The
monk beside Watson looks at him, to make sure he's out,
then rises and moves toward a monk seated apart from the
others.
MONK
(in a whisper)
Die Spur fuehrt nach Inverness. Die
steigen dort aus. Dort muessen wir ihn
finded -- den Valladon!
The other monk looks up. Under the cowl we recognize the
face of von Tirpitz.
DISSOLVE TO:
86.
EXT. INVERNESS STATION - DAY
The Highland Express is pulling out of the station. As
the last car disappears, and the steam clears from the
tracks, we see Holmes, Gabrielle and Watson on the
platform. A BAGGAGEMAN is loading their luggage on a
hand-cart, under Watson's supervision.
WATSON
Let's see -- two, three, four --
Gabrielle removes her parasol, which has been inserted
under the straps of her suitcase.
GABRIELLE
I'll take that.
HOLMES
(to baggageman)
How do you get to Glennahurich? How far
is it?
BAGGAGEMAN
Glennahurich?
WATSON
You know -- a valley -- with a yew
tree... ?
Gabrielle casually opens her parasol.
BAGGAGEMAN
It's about a mile out of town.
(a beat)
Why would you be wanting to go there?
WATSON
Well, if it's got a view, it might be a
nice place for a picnic.
BAGGAGEMAN
It's got a view, right enough -- but it's
no place for a picnic.
HOLMES
Why not?
BAGGAGEMAN
Because it's a cemetary.
87.
Gabrielle looks at Holmes. CAMERA PANS UP TOWARD an iron
footbridge, spanning the railway tracks. Moving across
it in single file are the seven cowled Trappist monks,
with von Tirpitz in the lead.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. GLENNAHURICH CEMETARY - DAY
Under a leaden sky, the yew trees which give the place
its name brood over ancient gravestones.
Holmes, Gabrielle and Watson come down an overgrown path,
stop and look off.
A rather meagre funeral procession is moving along the
avenue which runs between the rows of graves. It
consists of one normal-size pine coffin and two smaller
ones, loaded on a cart which is being wheeled by a couple
of workmen. Bringing up behind is a MINISTER, with an
open prayer book in his hands.
WATSON
(a note of excitement)
The three boxes. Is that it, Holmes?
HOLMES
I would think so.
GABRIELLE
The two small ones -- they must be
children's coffins.
Holmes starts to cut across between the graves, Gabrielle
and Watson following.
At the grave-site, the workmen are removing the coffins
from the cart. There is one large grave, two smaller
ones. A couple of grave-diggers stand by respectfully,
caps in hands.
Holmes, Gabrielle and Watson come up behind a nearby
headstone, stop and watch.
At the grave-site, the minister is finishing the service.
MINISTER
... earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust
to dust.
88.
In sure and certain hope of the
resurrection to eternal life through our
Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.
The workmen trundle the cart off, the minister following.
The grave-diggers don their caps, pick up their shovels.
From their vantage point, Holmes, Gabrielle and Watson
are watching.
GABRIELLE
It's so sad.
HOLMES
Sad -- and rather odd. There are no
flowers -- and no mourners.
The grave-diggers have finished filling in the graves
when Holmes, Gabrielle and Watson come up.
HOLMES
Morning.
GRAVE-DIGGER
(looking up)
Morning.
HOLMES
Working you hard, Dad?
GRAVE-DIGGER
Not really. This is healthy country.
Sometimes you sit around for weeks with
nothing to do. Then you get three in one
day.
HOLMES
What happened?
GRAVE-DIGGER
An accident. Aye. Father and two sons,
they say -- they were found floating in
the loch.
HOLMES
Local people?
GRAVE-DIGGER
No. Nobody around here knows them. The
story is that their boat capsized in a
swell -- but I don't believe it.
89.
HOLMES
What do you believe?
GRAVE-DIGGER
You may think I'm an old fool or an old
drunk -- but I've living around Loch Ness
all my life...
WATSON
Are you trying to tell us it was the
monster?
GRAVE-DIGGER
Damn right. MacLarnin saw the kids'
faces when they were pulled out of the
water -- looked like old men -- must've
died of fright.
WATSON
Incredible.
GRAVE-DIGGER
Is it? Last Easter Sunday my wife and
me, we were on our way to services, when
suddenly... But what's the use?
He picks up a white-washed wooden cross, plants it at the
head of the grave. The other grave-digger has inserted
smaller crosses into the other two mounds of earth.
HOLMES
(taking some coins out of his
pocket)
Here you are, Dad.
(hands them to the grave-
digger)
GRAVE-DIGGER
Thank you... You look like nice people.
If you're wanting a holiday in Scotland,
go to Loch Lomond, go to Holy Loch -- but
stay away from Loch Ness.
He and his partner shoulder their shovels, move off.
WATSON
(snorting)
To think that people still believe in
that nonsense. Here we are, living in
the Nineteenth Century --
90.
GABRIELLE
I'm ashamed to admit it -- but I was
relieved when he mentioned a father and
two boys. It could possibly have
anything to do with Emile.
HOLMES
It would appear not.
WATSON
However, there still remains the clue of
the castle and the red runner -- wherever
it may be.
They are about to get under way when suddenly Holmes
stops them.
Coming down the avenue toward them are four small boys,
in knickerbockers and caps, carrying bouquets of flowers.
Without a word, Holmes draws Gabrielle and Watson back to
their hiding place, behind the headstone.
The four boys approach the freshly-filled graves. They
remove their caps, lay their flowers on each of the two
small graves, then kneel down and bow their heads in
prayer.
From their position behind the headstone, Holmes, Watson
and Gabrielle are watching the four boys, who have their
backs to them.
WATSON
If they're unidentified graves, why are
those boys bringing flowers?
HOLMES
Because it's their brothers who have just
been buried.
WATSON
Their brothers?
HOLMES
And they're not boys. They're as tall as
they'll ever grow. Hand me some pebbles,
will you?
WATSON
Pebbles.
91.
He picks some up from the ground, hands them to Holmes,
who tosses them in the direction of the graves. The
pebbles strike a granite cross. At the sound, the four
boys simultaneously turn their heads over their
shoulders. Despite their slight bodies they have the
features of mature men.
Gabrielle and Watson react to the sight.
GABRIELLE
They are -- how do you say it in English?
-- nains.
WATSON
Midgets.
HOLMES
(nodding)
Boys with the faces of old men...
WATSON
I still don't see --
HOLMES
Would it help if I told you they were
acrobats?
WATSON
Not at all.
HOLMES
Do you remember a tumbling act -- six
brothers -- missing from the circus?
WATSON
Oh, yes -- that case you turned down -- I
completely forgot.
HOLMES
Some of us are cursed with memories like
flypaper. And stuck there is a
staggering of miscellaneous date, mostly
useless.
The four midgets have now risen, and putting on their
caps, move off down the avenue. Holmes, Gabrielle and
Watson emerge from their place of concealment.
92.
GABRIELLE
(worriedly)
Mr. Holmes, is those are not children,
then -- ?
HOLMES
Quite. The question now is -- who's in
the third grave?
CUT TO:
EXT. GLENNAHURICH CEMETARY - NIGHT
The point of a crowbar digs under the edge of a coffin
lid, which starts to give with a squealing protest of
nails. CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL Holmes, standing in
the large grave, from which the earth has been removed.
Kneeling beside the grave, watching anxiously, are
Gabrielle and Watson, the latter holding a bullseye
lantern.
Holmes pries the lid open, disclosing the corpse of a
middle-aged man. His arms are folded across his chest,
and on the third finger of his left hand is a wedding
ring similar to Gabrielle's. From the picture of him we
have seen earlier, we recognize the face as that of Emile
Valladon.
Gabrielle lets out a piercing scream, collapses in a
faint. Watson catches her.
WATSON
Holmes! She's fainted.
HOLMES
(preoccupied)
Hand me that lantern.
Watson passes down the lantern, and Holmes slowly shines
the beam along the length of the coffin.
WATSON
It is Valladon, isn't it?
HOLMES
Obviously. What is not so obvious is why
his wedding ring has turned green --
93.
The lantern beam now reveals that laid out at Valladon's
feet are three canaries -- their plumage bleached a grey-
white color.
HOLMES
-- and why there are three dead canaries
in the coffin. White canaries.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. CALEDONIAN HOTEL - DAWN
An open carriage is proceeding along the driveway toward
the hotel, scatting a flock of sheep grazing nearby.
Watson is sitting beside the coachman. Holmes and
Gabrielle are in the passenger seat, their luggage is
strapped to the back. Through the trees which line the
road we glimpse Loch Ness, which is partly obscured by a
low-lying mist.
The carriage pulls up in front of the hotel, which is
identified by a sign above the entrance, and Holmes,
Watson and Gabrielle get out.
CLOSE SHOT - HOTEL REGISTER
Holmes' hand is writing: Mr. And Mrs. Ashdown and valet,
London.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAWN
The MANAGER, in kilts, is just opening the curtains --
disclosing a view of the mist-shrouded lake through the
window.
The room is on the second floor, and is furnished in a
style which has been described as Scotch Baronial -- twin
beds with a night-table between them, wardrobe,
chiffonier, desk, a couple of chairs, and several mounted
stags' heads.
Holmes and Gabrielle are in the room, Watson is bringing
their bags through the door.
94.
MANAGER
You have a lovely view of the loch from
here -- as soon as the morning mist rolls
away.
(crosses to desk, picks up
guide book)
If you've a mind to do any sight-seeing,
here's a guide to the local points of
interest.
HOLMES
Thank you.
The manager starts toward the door, nodding to Watson.
MANAGER
This way, please. I will show you to your
room.
Watson picks up his suitcase, follows him.
INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY
The manager and Watson come out, the latter shutting the
door.
WATSON
I suppose you're putting me in the
basement.
MANAGER
No, your room is in the attic.
WATSON
Good.
MANAGER
It's the privy that's in the basement.
Watson grunts as the manager leads him up a narrow flight
of stairs.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Holmes removes his coat, turns to Gabrielle.
HOLMES
May I have your wedding ring, please?
95.
Gabrielle tearfully removes her ring, hands it to Holmes.
From his vest pocket he now produces Valladon's ring --
the copper has a greenish tinge to it. He crosses to the
window, compares the two rings in the light. Gabrielle
sinks down on the edge of one of the beds.
HOLMES
Just as I thought. There is a distinct
difference in color between your ring and
your husband's.
(a sob from Gabrielle)
Which leads me to believe that the cause
of death was not drowning...
(Gabrielle is now crying)
I wish you would stop that.
(crossing to her)
Stop it!
GABRIELLE
I'm sorry.
HOLMES
I know it's not easy. But you must
remember that we're that nice couple from
London, on Holiday in the Highlands.
GABRIELLE
(a final sniffle)
I'll try.
HOLMES
That's much better.
GABRIELLE
Thank you.
She manages a tentative smile. Holmes looks at her for a
long moment, then --
HOLMES
(gruffly)
Now, if I may proceed without further
interruptions --
WATSON'S VOICE
(from off)
Mr. Ashdown!
96.
INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY
Watson comes dashing down the narrow stairs from the
attic, races toward teh door of Holmes' room.
WATSON
Mr. Ashdown!
He flings the door open.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Watson bursts in breathlessly.
WATSON
Holmes! I saw it! I saw it from the
attic! It's out there in the lake!
HOLMES
You saw what?
WATSON
(looking around desperately)
The telescope. Where's the telescope?
HOLMES
What did you see?
WATSON
The monster!
HOLMES
The monster?
Watson fishes a small telescope out of Holmes' suitcase,
rushes through the open French window to the balcony.
EXT. BALCONY - DAY
Watson focuses the telescope on the lake.
LOCH NESS THROUGH TELESCOPE - DAY
Through the swirling mist which clings to the surface of
the lake, a shadowy figure with a long, monster-like neck
can be see gliding along.
97.
EXT. BALCONY - DAY
Watson almost drops the telescope in excitement.
WATSON
There it is! There it is!
Holmes joins him on the balcony.
WATSON
Look for yourself.
He hands the telescope to Holmes. Gabrielle comes up to
the window behind them. Holmes trains the telescope on
the lake.
WATSON
See it? See it?
LOCH NESS - THROUGH TELESCOPE - DAY
Holmes' eye slowly scans the lake, but there is no sign
of Watson's monster -- just the rolling mist.
EXT. BALCONY - DAY
Holmes lowers the telescope.
HOLMES
I see nothing.
WATSON
Nothing?
He grabs the telescope from Holmes, looks toward the
lake.
WATSON
It's gone.
HOLMES
Gone? Maybe it was never there.
WATSON
I swear to you -- I saw it -- clear as
anything --
98.
HOLMES
Watson, as you so succinctly put it, we
are living in the Nineteenth Century --
He steps back into the room.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Watson comes halfway through the French window.
WATSON
Maybe that grave-digger was right -- the
swell, and the boat overturning --
HOLMES
Monsieur Valladon may have been found in
the lake -- but he did not drown. He
died of asphyxiation.
GABRIELLE
Asphyxiation.
HOLMES
(holding up wedding rings)
There is only one substance that can turn
a copper ring green and bleach the color
out of canaries -- chlorine gas.
WATSON
That may be. But the fact remains that I
saw something out there.
HOLMES
A figment of your imagination. Now let
us be logical. The only concrete lead we
have is the reference to the castle --
(picks up guide book from
desk, opens it to map)
The question is, which castle?
WATSON
You call yourself logical? You're the
least logical man I know.
HOLMES
Am I?
99.
WATSON
How can you say it's a figment of my
imagination, when for years you've been
saying I have no imagination whatsoever!
He looks at Holmes almost triumphantly.
CUT TO:
SERIES OF SHOTS - DAY
Holmes, Gabrielle, and Watson bicycling away from the
hotel. Holmes, in knickerbockers and a Norfolk jacket,
and Gabrielle, holding her parasol, are on a tandem.
Watson is behind them, on a bicycle with a picnic basket
attached to the rack. He is in his valet's outfit, with
metal clips around his trouser cuffs.
The three of them bicycling past a long stone wall.
They pedal up to an imposing castle. Holmes dismounts,
knocks on the front door.
Our trio bicycling through a copse of trees.
They approach another castle.
On a steep road, they ride through a flock of sheep.
They are proceeding along a causeway, away from a third
castle.
CUT TO:
EXT. LAKE SHORE - DAY
Holmes and Gabrielle are sitting on a blanket, the
contents of the picnic basket spread before them, having
lunch. Watson is pouring the wine. Their bicycles are
resting nearby.
WATSON
We have so far investigated eight drafty
castles -- had our bicycles attacked by
sheep and our ears assaulted by bagpipes
-- and we are exactly where we started.
100.
HOLMES
(to Gabrielle)
Would you like some cranberry sauce,
dear?
GABRIELLE
Yes, dear.
HOLMES
Would you pass the cranberry sauce,
please, John?
WATSON
Yes, dear.
As he does so, he catches sight of something o.s.
WATSON
(calling)
I say there. Good afternoon. Remember
me?
On the road above, approaching a bridge which spans the
lake where it narrows into a stream, are the seven
Trappist monks, walking slowly in single file.
Watson waves to them, but the monks pay no attention to
him.
WATSON
(to Holmes)
Some chaps I met on the train. We had a
long conversation -- or rather, I had a
long conversation -- because they're not
allowed to talk -- Trappists, you know.
Just study their Bibles. You'll never
guess what the one next to me was reading
-- the Book of Jonah -- isn't that odd?
HOLMES
(looking after the monks)
Quite.
As he turns back, he notices that Gabrielle is
manipulating her parasol in the air.
HOLMES
What is it, dear? What's the matter?
101.
GABRIELLE
A bee.
She continues to work the parasol, alternately opening it
and partially closing it.
On the bridge von Tirpitz, who is at the rear of the file
of monks, glances back toward the lakeshore.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. URQUHART CASTLE - DAY
On a promontory jutting into Loch Ness stand the remains
of a medieval fortress. Around the Tower, the Motte, and
the ruins of the East wall, wooden scaffolding has been
erected, and a couple of dozen men are engaged in what
appears to be repair work. Amidst the rubble of the
Nether Bailey, an encampment of tents has been set up.
Holmes, Gabrielle and Watson come bicycling up along a
fence on the heights overlooking the castle, dismount in
front of the locked gates. Attached to the gatepost is a
sign reading: WARNING: No Unauthorized Person Permitted
Beyond This Point.
WATSON
Well, I don't think we have to bother
with this castle. It's just a pile of
rubble.
GABRIELLE
Then why are they taking precautions?
She points to the sign -- and to a guard coming up the
driveway, with a couple of huge mastiffs on leashes.
HOLMES
Why, indeed?
(turning the tandem around)
Let's go.
WATSON
Go where?
HOLMES
When rebuffed at the front door, one's
only choice is to try the tradesmen's
entrance.
102.
They move off.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. URQUHART CASTLE - DAY
Holmes, Gabrielle and Watson are coming up a path from
the lakeside, leading their bicycles. They lean the
cycles against a ruined wall, start across the courtyard.
A middle-aged MAN in kilts emerges from the tumbled-down
gatehouse, comes toward them.
GUIDE
Sorry. No visitors allowed.
HOLMES
Are you the guide here?
GUIDE
Yes. The castle is closed to the public
while work is going on.
HOLMES
What are they doing?
GUIDE
It's being restored by the Society for
the Preservation of Scottish Monuments.
HOLMES
Too bad. I particularly wanted my wife
to see Urquhart Castle. The tower is one
of the most interesting examples of --
about 1400, wasn't it?
GUIDE
That's right.
HOLMES
Let me see -- was it built under James
the Second or James the Third?
GUIDE
The Thrid... If you come back next year,
we'll be all done here, and I'll be glad
to show you around.
HOLMES
Thank you.
103.
As the three of them move off, a canvas-topped wagon
comes through the stone archway, stops at the front of
the steps leading to the inner courtyard.
WATSON
Pleasant sort, isn't he?
HOLMES
Pleasant, but ignorant. He was off one
hundred years and one James.
(taps guide-book in his
pocket)
It's actually 1500 and James the Fourth.
GABRIELLE
If he's an official guide, shouldn't he
know... ?
HOLMES
If he's an official guide.
They have now reached the wall against which they left
their bicycles. Suddenly Holmes stops, attracted by the
sound of birds chirping.
HOLMES
Listen... Do you hear anything, Watson?
WATSON
(concentrating)
No. Those birds are making too much of a
racket.
HOLMES
(looking off)
They're not just birds -- they're our old
friends.
Watson and Gabrielle follow his gaze.
From the back of the wagon, the carriers have removed the
small bird-cage we saw in the mail-drop on Ashdown
Street. They hand it to a workman, who starts up the
steps with it. To another couple of workmen they pass
down an open-sided crate in which rest two heavy glass
bottles protected by wicker. Stencilled on the wooden
slate of the crate are the words: SULPHURIC ACID -
CORROSIVE.
104.
Holmes is watching thoughtfully, Gabrielle and Watson are
puzzled.
WATSON
Sulphuric acid?
GABRIELLE
The more we find out the less sense it
makes.
HOLMES
To a graduate chemist it makes a great
deal of sense. Sulphuric acid, when
exposed to salt-water, produces chlorine
gas.
(a beat)
Would you mind clasping your hands,
Watson?
WATSON
(obeying)
Like this?
HOLMES
A little lower... Thank you.
Watson has lowered his clasped hands, and Holmes uses
them as a foothold to go scrambling up the scaffolding of
the nearby wall. Reaching the top, he looks off in the
direction of the tower.
The workman carrying the canary cage, and the two
carrying the crate of sulphuric acid are approaching the
tower. A draw-bridge comes down, and the three men cross
the moat and enter the tower.
HOLMES
(looking off)
That tower may be more interesting than I
thought -- and not just architecturally.
Out of the ruined gatehouse comes the guard with the two
mastiffs on leashes. The dogs start to snarl viciously.
WATSON
Holmes, I have a feeling we're redundant
here.
105.
Holmes leaps down from the scaffolding, wheels the tandem
around, starts back in the direction from which they
came. Gabrielle follows. Watson hurries after them with
his bicycle, casting anxious glances over his shoulder as
the dogs continue barking.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. LOCH NESS - EARLY EVENING
The sun has just gone down behind the hills, but there is
still light in the sky. An ominous mist is beginning to
settle on the water.
Gabrielle is sitting in the stern of a rowboat, her
parasol in her lap. She is wearing Holmes' Norfolk
jacket over her dress to ward off the chill.
On the rowing seat, facing her, are Watson and Holmes,
the latter in his waistcoat. Their oars are pulled in,
and they are watching Urquhart Castle, on the opposite
side of the lake.
WATSON
We have now observed the castle from the
front, from the back, from the side, from
land, from water... what now? Are you
planning to spend the night out here?
HOLMES
If necessary.
WATSON
You're going to catch your death of cold.
(to Gabrielle)
Wouldn't it be ironic if Holmes' last
case were a case of pneumonia?
(with an embarrassed chuckle)
Sorry.
Gabrielle glances past them, and her eyes widen.
GABRIELLE
(pointing off)
What's that?
Holmes and Watson turn their heads.
106.
About half a mile away, moving in and out of patches of
drifting mist, is Watson's monster, its long reptillian
neck cutting through the water.
Watson leaps to his feet.
WATSON
Holmes!
Holmes grabs his arm, pulls him back into his seat.
HOLMES
Quick, Watson. After it!
He grabs his oar, and Watson belatedly joins in. They
strain at the oars, setting a course which will intercept
the monster. Gabrielle leans forward in her seat, trying
to peer past them through the curtains of mist.
The monster is much closer now -- no more than a quarter
of a mile away.
Suddenly Watson stops rowing.
WATSON
Holmes, what are we doing? We should be
going away from it.
HOLMES
Keep rowing, dammit!
Watson resumes pulling on his oar. As they row, Holmes
looks over his shoulder.
The monster has started to submerge. Its head disappears
beneath the surface of the water, and the wake it leaves
behind soon trails off into the mist.
Holmes ships his oar.
HOLMES
We've lost it.
WATSON
(stops rowing)
At least you admit there's an it, not
just a figment of my imagination.
HOLMES
Quiet.
107.
He listens intently. There is only the sound of water
slapping against the side of the boat. The mist is
heavier now, and billowing around them.
HOLMES
(to Watson)
Do you have your stethoscope with you?
WATSON
Never without it.
He removes his bowler, unwinds the stethoscope from the
inside the crown, hands it to Holmes. Holmes plugs in
the ear-pieces, leans over the side of the boat, extends
the other end of the stethoscope to the surface of the
water.
WATSON
What is it?
HOLMES
I can hear something...
We become aware of the faint beating of engines,
accompanied by a bubbling sound.
HOLMES
It's getting closer -- closer --
Suddenly the surface of the water breaks, about twenty
yards away from them, and the head and neck of the
monster rear up from the depths. Watson is first to
notice it and jumps to his feet, making choking noises.
Gabrielle sees it and screams. Watson grabs an oar,
throws it at the monster as it comes past. The backwash
hits the boat broadside, rocking it, and Holmes, Watson
and Gabrielle are spilled into the lake.
The monster moves away from them, heading in the general
direction of the castle. It disappears into the mist.
Holmes is the first to come up, looks around, sees
Gabrielle surfacing a few yards away, swims to her.
HOLMES
Are you all right?
GABRIELLE
I lost my parasol.
108.
HOLMES
Where's Watson?
He glances around, sees Watson's bowler floating nearby,
swims over to it.
HOLMES
Watson?
He lifts the hat -- but Watson isn't under it.
As Gabrielle hoists herself into the boat, Watson
clambers over the other side. After a moment Holmes
joins them, and they sit there, sopping wet and breathing
heavily.
WATSON
I have come face to face with man-eating
tigers -- I was once caught in a stampede
of wild elephants -- India, you know --
but I wasn't half as frightened. This
beast seems to have a personal grudge
against us.
GABRIELLE
I just hope it doesn't come back.
HOLMES
I don't think it will.
(pointing off)
Look!
They glance in the indicated direction.
There is no sign of the monster. But the mist has
momentarily lifted to reveal the castle, and an odd sight
greets their eyes -- the wooden scaffolding in front of
the tower is slowly rising into the air.
WATSON
(amazed)
What strange goings-on.
HOLMES
Not really. My guess is that the
monster, after a hard day's work, has
returned home for his supper.
109.
The scaffolding in front of the tower slowly descends
back into the place, as mist once more engulfs the
castle.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Holmes, in a different suit of clothes, is pacing across
the room, whistling the main theme from "Swan Lake." He
stops before the open French window, gazes out toward the
lake. Gabrielle is propped up in bed, a blanket drawn up
to her chin, watching him. Watson, who has changed into
a pair of kilts, is standing in front of the fireplace,
warming his backside.
Gabrielle glances at Watson, suppresses a giggle.
WATSON
Yes, I know. But would you believe that
you can't borrow a decent pair of
trousers in this place?
Holmes resumes pacing, and Watson becomes aware of his
whistling.
WATSON
Would you like to confide in us?
No answer from Holmes. Watson turns to Gabrielle.
WATSON
Whenever he starts whistling, I know he's
getting close to a solution.
HOLMES
It's nothing new, actually. We've come
across this situation before.
WATSON
We have? Where?
HOLMES
At the ballet.
WATSON
Ballet?
110.
HOLMES
There's a lake -- and there's a castle --
and there's a swan that isn't really a
swan -- or, in this case, a monster that
isn't really a monster --
WATSON
Then what is it?
HOLMES
What is it indeed that feeds on canary
birds and sulphuric acid, and has an
engine for a heart?
GABRIELLE
An engine?
HOLMES
The stethoscope is a very sensitive
instrument, and water is an excellent
conductor of sound. There is no doubt
that what we are dealing with is a
mechanical monster.
WATSON
Oh?
HOLMES
Not only is it equipped with an
artificial heart, it also has artificial
lungs. Judging from the bubbles on the
surface of the lake, it uses some form of
air pump.
GABRIELLE
You think my husband was involved in all
this?
HOLMES
Yes, Madame Valladon. I'm sure of it.
WATSON
But why would anybody build a mechanical
monster? Just to scare people?
HOLMES
Not very likely.
111.
GABRIELLE
Why did they try to keep me from finding
my husband? And why was he buried
anonymously?
HOLMES
I think I have a pretty good notion of
what they're up to -- the Society for the
Preservation of Scottish Monuments --
better known as the Diogenes Club.
WATSON
The Diogenes Club?
There is a knock on the door.
HOLMES
Come in.
The door opens and the hotel manager enters, holding a
magnum of champagne.
MANAGER
Mr. Ashdown, I have a bottle of champagne
for you.
HOLMES
(crossing to him)
A bottle of champagne? I didn't order
it.
MANAGER
No, indeed. You are to deliver it.
These are my instructions.
He hands the magnum to Holmes.
HOLMES
Instructions from whom? Deliver it
where?
MANAGER
I wouldn't know, sir. But there's a
carriage waiting for you downstairs.
HOLMES
Are you sure you have the right Mr.
Ashdown?
112.
MANAGER
(flatly)
Quite sure, Mr. Holmes.
He turns and exits. Holmes taps the bottle of champagne
thoughtfully.
HOLMES
Well, Watson, I would say the curtain is
going up on the last act.
WATSON
I don't like the sound of it.
GABRIELLE
Please be careful.
As Holmes starts toward the door, Watson reaches into his
sporran.
WATSON
You'd better take this with you.
He produces a revolver, holds it out to Holmes. Holmes
ignores it, exits.
EXT. CALEDONIAN HOTEL - NIGHT
A gig is waiting in front of the entrance, and leaning
against it is the guide we saw earlier at Urquhart.
Holmes comes out, carrying the champagne bottle.
HOLMES
Who's minding the castle?
GUIDE
You'd better get on. It's late.
Holmes climbs into the gig, and the guide moutns the seat
beside him.
HOLMES
Where are we going? Some sort of party?
GUIDE
You won't be disappointed in the guest
list.
113.
HOLMES
Who's the host?
GUIDE
Jonah.
He flicks the reins. The horse starts off at a trot, and
the gig turns into the driveway.
EXT. MOVING GIG - NIGHT
As they drive along, Holmes glances at the guide, who is
grim and uncommunicative.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ROAD LEADING TO CASTLE - NIGHT
The gig, with its two passengers, proceeds along the
lakeshore, approaching the entrance to Urquhart.
EXT. URQUHART CASTLE - NIGHT
A workman is lighting a couple of torches attached to the
ruined gatehouse when the gig comes through the archway.
The guide reins up the horse in front of the steps
leading to the inner courtyard -- which are now covered
with a narrow red carpet.
The guide nods to Holmes, who dismounts, starts up the
steps, examining the red carpet. As he reaches the top,
he looks off.
The strip of red carpet runs across the courtyard, lit by
torches planted in the ground. A couple of workmen are
are unrolling the rest of the carpet toward the entrance
of the tower.
As Holmes passes one of the tents, the flap opens and
Mycroft steps out, dressed in his inevitable frock coat.
MYCROFT
Mr. Ashdown, I presume.
HOLMES
(turning)
The red runner, I presume.
114.
(indicates carpet)
You shouldn't have gone to all this
trouble just for me.
MYCROFT
It's not for you.
(calling into tent)
McKeller.
(to Holmes)
May I have the champagne, please?
HOLMES
(handing him bottle)
1886 -- not a very good vintage, is it?
MYCROFT
Mediocre. But then again, it's not for
drinking.
A black-suited MAN emerges from the ten, and Mycroft
gives him the champagne.
MYCROFT
Tie it up, will you?
The man moves off toward the tower. Mycroft pulls back
the flap of the tent.
MYCROFT
In here.
Holmes passes inside, Mycroft following.
INT. TENT - NIGHT
It is lit by a kerosene lamp suspended from the ridge-
pole. There are several cots, one of them with the
bedding rolled up. Resting on the stripped cot is a
trunk with the name E. VALLADON painted on it. Lying on
a table, among a group of engineering models, are
Gabrielle's parasol and Watson's stethoscope. There are
also a couple of drafting tables, with plans and
blueprints tacked to them.
Holmes moves around the tent, taking all this in.
HOLMES
Interesting -- and educational.
115.
MYCROFT
Despite my most emphatic warning, you
persisted in meddling. It would have
served you right if you'd all drowned.
HOLMES
Sorry to be so unobliging.
(stops beside torch)
E. Valladon... H'mm.
MYCROFT
(indicating parasol and
stethoscope)
I imagine this belongs to the pretty
lady, and this belongs to your valet...
We found them floating in the lake.
HOLMES
Speaking about things floating in the
lake --
MYCROFT
How much do you know -- or think you
know?
HOLMES
I think you're testing some sort of
underwater craft -- camouflauged to
mislead the gullible. I think it's an
experimental model, operated by a crew of
midgets. I think it is powered by
sulphuric acid batteries, and uses
canaries to detect escaping gas...
Altogether a strange contraption.
MYCROFT
Not quite that unique. Right now, four
countries are trying to develop what we
call a submersible. But none of them
could solve the critical problem -- how
to stay submerged long enough to make it
effective.
HOLMES
What does the Good Book say? "And Jonah
lived in the belly of that fish for three
days and three nights."
116.
MYCROFT
That was our goal. And thanks to
Valladon's air-pump, we got a jump on the
rest of them. It's a highly complex
system of filtration -- so we had a
series of trials --
HOLMES
And at least one error.
MYCROFT
During a test run in Moray Firth,
pressure caused a leak in the hull. Sea
water mixed with the acid in the
batteries to produce chlorine gas.
Before they could reach the surface,
Valladon and the crew were dead.
HOLMES
So you had them buried in unmarked
graves, to preserve your secret.
MYCROFT
It was essential to keep the information
from your client.
HOLMES
You went to all those lengths to prevent
Madame Valladon from fiding her husband?
MYCROFT
Your client isn't Madame Valladon -- it's
the Imperial German Government. They
were after the Belgian engineer -- or
rather, his invention. They knew he was
employed by us, but they couldn't find
out where -- so they enlisted the best
brain in England to help them. You, my
dear brother, have been working for the
Wilhelmstrasse.
HOLMES
And Madame Valladon -- what part did she
play in all this?
MYCROFT
Madame Valladon is dead.
HOLMES
Dead?
117.
Mycroft crosses to the trunk, opens the lid.
MYCROFT
The Germans disposed of her three weeks
ago, in Brussels. This is Gabrielle
Valladon.
He hands Holmes a small, framed photograph. Holmes looks
at it with apprehension, as well he should: the picture
is of a somewhat matronly woman, not the glamorous
Gabrielle. Holmes lowers the photograph. Behind it,
Mycroft is glaring at him with customary arrogance.
MYCROFT
The woman who was brought to your house
in the middle of the night -- apparently
fished out of the Thames -- and
apparently suffering from amnesia -- is,
in fact, Ilse von Hoffmanstal, one of
their most skillful agents. Am I going
too fast for one of the "best brains in
England?"
HOLMES
Go on.
As Mycroft continues, Holmes picks up Ilse's water-soaked
parasol and examines it.
MYCROFT
They planted her on you quite neatly, I
must admit, so that you could lead them
to their objective, the air pump. Very
much like using a hog to find truffles.
And now perhaps you'd care to join me. I
am expecting a certain royal personage
from Balmoral.
EXT. CASTLE - NIGHT
A coach and escort approach the castle. Painted on the
door of the coach are the initials "V.R."
INT. CASTLE COURTYARD
The entourage enters the castle courtyard and stops.
Footmen open the door and bow to the lone passenger.
118.
Waiting on top of the steps, outside the tent, are
Mycroft and Holmes. Lined up on the other side of the
torch-lit red carpet are half a dozen scientists, in
their best clothes.
Out of the coach steps a familiar figure -- Her Majesty,
QUEEN VICTORIA, Defender of the Faith, Empress of India.
She is 69 years old, and dressed entirely in black.
Mycroft comes down the carpeted steps to meet her.
MYCROFT
Your Majesty.
He bows. The Queen extends her hand to him, and he
touches it.
MYCROFT
I trust you had a pleasant journey,
Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
It was long and it was tedious. And it
had better be worth our while, Mr.
Holmes.
MYCROFT
I can assure you, Ma'am, it will be.
A lady-in-waiting and a uniformed equerry have now
descended from the coach. Mycroft leads the party up the
steps.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Now what is this curious ship we are
supposed to christen?
MYCROFT
We call it a submersible, Ma'am. It
travels under water.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Under water? What a fantastic idea.
They have now reached the top of the steps.
119.
MYCROFT
Ma'am, may present some of the scientists
who were responsible for this
achievement. J.W. Ferguson, naval
architect --
FIRST SCIENTIST
(bowing)
Your Majesty.
MYCROFT
Professor Simpson, our leading expert on
hydraulics --
SECOND SCIENTIST
(bowing)
Your Majesty.
MYCROFT
W.W. Prescott, co-inventor of the
revolving periscope --
THIRD SCIENTIST
(bowing)
Your Majesty.
MYCROFT
And this is Sir Arthur Grisby, our
authority on maritime ballistics --
QUEEN VICTORIA
We don't claim to understand any of this.
But England is proud of you, gentlemen.
To think that man can now observe fish in
their native habitat --
MYCROFT
(trying to correct her)
Well, not exactly, Ma'am --
QUEEN VICTORIA
-- and underwater plants and coral
reefs --
(noticing Holmes)
Young man -- what was your contribution
to this project?
HOLMES
I'm afraid it was rather negligible, Your
Majesty.
120.
MYCROFT
(to the Queen)
This is my brother, Sherlock, Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Ah, yes. Sherlock Holmes. We have been
following your exploits with great
interest.
Holmes bows, touches the Queen's extended hand.
HOLMES
Thank you, Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Are you engaged in one of your
fascinating cases at the moment?
HOLMES
In a manner of speaking, Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
When can we expect to read Dr. Watson's
account of the case?
HOLMES
I hope never, Ma'am. It has not been one
of my more successful endeavors.
Mycroft signals to a bagpiper, who starts playing HIELAN'
LADDIE.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Ah, the ceremonies are about to begin.
(to Mycroft)
Now where is this underwater ship of
yours?
MYCROFT
(pointing to tower)
In the dungeon, Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
The dungeon? What a peculiar place to
keep it.
(turning to the others)
Well, let us get on with it, gentlemen.
121.
Mycroft leads the Queen along the red runner toward the
tower. Holmes follows, then the lady-in-waiting and the
equerry, then the scientists.
As they cross the inner courtyard, the Highland piper
falls in ahead of the procession, leads them toward the
drawbridge. Then he steps aside, as the royal party
crosses the drawbridge and passes through the door of the
tower.
INT. DUNGEON - NIGHT
A high-ceilinged rock chamber, with a spiral iron
staircase leading down. The floor is a concrete ramp,
the lower end of it covered with water. Beyond is the
entrance from the Loch, camouflaged by scaffolding and
vegetation.
On the upper part of the ramp is a small, primitive
submarine, resting on wheels. Prominently lettered on
the bow is the name H.M.S. JONAH, and suspended by a rope
from the prow is the magnum of champagne which Holmes
delivered. Along the sides are torpedo tubes, and fitted
over the conning tower is the head and neck of the
"monster" we saw in the lake.
Present are half a dozen naval personnel, commanded by an
officer. As the royal party comes down the spiral
staircase, the officer snaps to attention. Mycroft is in
the lead, followed by the Queen, Holmes, the lady-in-
waiting, the equerry and the scientists.
MYCROFT
There she, Ma'am. Her Majesty's Ship
Jonah.
The four surviving midgets appear on the deck, in wool
jerseys and navy caps. They start pulling on a chain
which slowly raises the detachable head-and-neck of the
monster toward the ceiling, disclosing the conning tower
and the periscope.
QUEEN VICTORIA
And what, may we ask, is the purpose of
that hideous gargoyle?
MYCROFT
It's merely a decoy, Ma'am.
122.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Oh. To frighten away the sharks, we
imagine.
MYCROFT
Something of the sort... The crew will
now demonstrate the workings of the
submersible.
A SAILOR of normal height appears on the deck of the sub.
SAILOR
Stand to.
The midgets scramble down the hatch.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Aren't they rather small for sailors?
MYCROFT
They are. But because of the size of the
craft, the Navy made an exception.
QUEEN VICTORIA
They should make it a rule. It's quite
fatiguing to pin on all those medals
while standing on our toes.
There is the sound of the engines starting. Mycroft
leads the Queen to an open bulkhead in the side of the
sub, with Holmes and rest of the party close behind.
Inside, all is noise and confusion. Metal rods are
dipping into glass jars of sulphuric acid, complicated
machinery is driving the propeller shaft, bellows are
inflating and deflating, etc. The midgets are at their
stations in the cramped quarters, pulling switches,
oiling the engines, operating the periscope. Overhead is
a cageful of canaries, all chirping away. Mycroft points
out the various features to the Queen.
MYCROFT
This is the main engine, which propels it
under water at the rate of two knots --
the stabilizing mechanism -- the multi-
stage compressor -- the ballast tank
trimmer -- the air-pump which filters and
recirculates the air --
123.
QUEEN VICTORIA
How charming.
MYCROFT
The air pump, Ma'am?
QUEEN VICTORIA
(pointing)
The canaries. Must make the crew feel at
home.
MYCROFT
Yes, Ma'am. These are the levers for
firing the torpedoes, which are accurate
up to as much as 120 feet -- the
periscope for scanning the surface of the
water --
QUEEN VICTORIA
But where is the glass bottom?
MYCROFT
The what, Ma'am?
QUEEN VICTORIA
The glass bottom.
HOLMES
You know -- to see the fist --
QUEEN VICTORIA
-- and the plants and the corals --
MYCROFT
That's not quite the idea, Ma'am. H.M.S.
Jonah is being commissioned as a warship.
QUEEN VICTORIA
A warship?
(waving her hand)
Stop that noise. Stop it!
At a signal from Mycroft, the sub engines are turned off.
MYCROFT
Ma'am, if I may explain --
QUEEN VICTORIA
You had better.
124.
MYCROFT
The Admiralty regards this craft as the
ultimate weapon in naval warfare. It can
seek out enemy ships and destroy them --
with these torpedoes -- while remaining
completely invisible.
QUEEN VICTORIA
You mean in can fire at other vessels
while under water?
MYCROFT
Yes, Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Without any warning?
MYCROFT
That is correct, Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
And without showing her colors?
MYCROFT
Indeed, Ma'am.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Mr. Holmes, we are not amused.
(Mycroft stares at her)
It is unsportsmanlike, it is un-English,
and it is in very poor taste. We will
have none of it!
MYCROFT
I beg your pardon, Ma'am?
He exchanges a look with Holmes.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Sometimes we despair of the state of the
world. What will scientists think of
next?
MYCROFT
That's precisely it, Ma'am. At this very
moment the Germans under Count von
Zeppelin, are experimenting with a
dirigible --
125.
QUEEN VICTORIA
A dirigible? And what, pray, is that?
MYCROFT
A rigid balloon, which could fly over
London and drop a bomb on Buckingham
Palace. It is being developed at the
express orders of Kaiser Wilhelm the
Second.
QUEEN VICTORIA
Nonsense. We refuse to believe that our
grandson Willie would do a thing like
that.
MYCROFT
We have conclusive proof, Ma'am. Our
agent in Friedrichshafen, a man named
Ibbetson, actually saw the dirigible, and
made a drawing of it. Unfortunately, he
was apprehended before he could cross the
border.
QUEEN VICTORIA
(indicating sub)
Nevertheless, we don't want any part of
this beastly invention. Get rid of it!
Scuttle it! The sooner the better.
MYCROFT
May I point out, Ma'am --
QUEEN VICTORIA
And don't concern yourself about that
dirigible dropping bombs on us. We shall
write a very sharp note to the Kaiser.
(to equerry)
Now we wish to return to Balmoral.
She starts toward the spiral staircase. The equerry
precedes her up the stairs, the lady-in-waiting follows,
the scientists trail after them. Mycroft and Holmes
linger behind.
HOLMES
Well, Mycroft, it seems we have both been
undone by a woman.
(Mycroft is staring at the
sub)
What a shame.
126.
All that superb engineering, and all that
cunning espionage, for nought.
MYCROFT
Not necessarily. If the Germans want
that submersible so badly, why don't we
give it to them?
HOLMES
Give it to them?
MYCROFT
Invite them aboard for the final journey
-- seven hundred feet -- straight down.
HOLMES
And how are you going to arrange that?
MYCROFT
I'm rather counting on you to do it.
Since you are on such intimate terms with
Fraulein von Hoffmanstal.
O.s., the bagpiper resumes playing.
MYCROFT
Shall we say goodbye to Her Majesty?
He starts up the spiral staircase. Holmes follows slowly
and thoughtfully.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. CALEDONIAN HOTEL - DAWN
The gig, with the quide driving and Holmes beside him,
comes up the driveway, stops in front of the entrance.
Holmes hops down, and twirling Gabrielle's parasol in his
hand, walks into the hotel.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAWN
In the half-light, Gabrielle can be seen asleep in her
bed. She is wearing the pink negligee with the maribou
feathers, which has slipped halfway off her shoulders.
The other bed has not been slept in.
The door from the corridor opens and Holmes steps in,
carrying the parasol.
127.
He crosses to Gabrielle's bed, looks down at her for a
long moment, adjusts the negligee with the tip of the
parasol. The he moves to the French window, opens it,
glances out.
LAKEFRONT - FROM HOLMES' ANGLE - DAWN
The seven Trappist monks are standing on the shore,
silhouetted against the water, watching the hotel.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAWN
Holmes withdraws from the window , looks at the sleeping
Gabrielle, then casually swings the parasol, hitting a
metal lamp-shade overhead. Gabrielle sits up abruptly in
bed, clutching her negligee around her.
HOLMES
Sorry about that. But as long as you're
up -- what is the German word for castle?
Schloss, isn't it?
GABRIELLE
(carefully)
I think so.
HOLMES
And how would you say under the castle?
Unter das Schlss? Or die Schloss?
GABRIELLE
I don't know. My German isn't that good.
HOLMES
(indicating)
Your Trappist friends are out there
waiting to hear from you -- it's a chilly
morning -- we don't want to keep them
standing around too long, do we, Fraulein
Hoffmanstal?
(Gabrielle looks at him
without answering)
Come now. It's too late to play cat and
mouse.
GABRIELLE
(flatly)
Unter dem Schloss.
128.
HOLMES
Thank you.
(holding out parasol)
Here's your signalling device -- it's a
bit damp, I'm afraid -- would you care to
let them know where they can find the
submersible?
(Gabrielle makes no move to
take the parasol)
No? Then I'll just have to do it myself.
(moving toward window)
I only hope my Morse code is adequate to
the occasion.
Keeping well to one side of the open window, he extends
the parasol outside, opens it, starts sending out a
series of long and short signals.
LAKEFRONT - DAWN
von Tirpitz and the other monks strain their eyes in the
direction of the hotel.
HOTEL - FROM MONKS' ANGLE - DAWN
Outside the hotel window, Gabrielle's parasol can be seen
flashing the message UNTER DEM SCHLOSS in Morse code --
but it is not apparent that Holmes is doing the
signalling.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAWN
As Holmes continues opening and closing the parasol,
Gabrielle gets out of bed, comes up beside him. Holmes
finishes the message, shuts the parasol, draws it back
into the room. Then he looks out the window.
LAKEFRONT - FROM HOLMES' ANGLE - DAWN
The monks turn away from the hotel, and with von Tirpitz
in the lead, move off along the shore.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAWN
Holmes steps back from the window, faces Gabrielle.
129.
HOLMES
Well, it's up to the good monks now. You
can consider your part of the mission
accomplished, Fraulein Hoffmanstal.
GABRIELLE
You're all wrong about me. My name isn't
Hoffmanstal.
HOLMES
It isn't?
GABRIELLE
It's von Hoffmanstal.
HOLMES
I stand corrected.
GABRIELLE
(glancing toward window)
I suppose once they're in the castle...
It must amuse you, Mr. Holmes, Trappists
walking into a trap.
HOLMES
It's more amusing than that. Once in the
castle, they will encounter surprisingly
little resistance -- it will take but a
small bottle of chloroform to overcome
the guards.
GABRIELLE
(skeptically)
You mean you're going to let them have
the air-pump?
HOLMES
Better than that. We're going to let
them have the submersible. They will
find it with its engines running, all set
to go. I assume they're all expert
sailors? And since there is a German
battleship cruising off the coast of
Scotland, I expect they'll try to sail it
out of the lock and rendezvous at sea.
GABRIELLE
Did you say try to?
130.
HOLMES
I would suggest you get your things
together. Mycroft will be here to take
you into custody.
He opens her suitcase, which is on the baggage rack at
the foot of the bed. Gabrielle watches him for a beat,
then crosses to the wardrobe, starts taking her clothes
out.
GABRIELLE
I never had you fooled for a moment, did
I? You knew right from the beginning --
when the cabbie brought me to Baker
Street.
HOLMES
Let me see -- not quite that soon.
He stretches out on the bed.
GABRIELLE
It's so funny. I asked for this
assignment, you know. I was scheduled to
go to Japan, but I couldn't resist the
challenge of coming up against the best.
I'm sorry I didn't give you a closer
game.
HOLMES
Close enough.
GABRIELLE
You're just being kind. I failed
miserably.
HOLMES
We all have occasional failures.
Fortunately, Dr. Watson never writes
about mine.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY
Watson, back in his valet's outfit again, comes bounding
down the narrow stairs from the attic, races toward the
door of Holmes' room.
131.
WATSON
Holmes! Holmes!
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Bright sunlight now floods the room. Gabrielle, fully
dressed, is standing in front of the mirror, putting on
her hat. Her packed bag has been set out in the middle
of the room, and resting on it is the parasol.
The door bursts open and Watson dashes in.
WATSON
Holmes!
In his haste he trips over the bag, goes down. As he
picks himself up again, Gabrielle points toward the
balcony.
EXT. BALCONY - HOTEL - DAY
Holmes is leaning against the parapet, scanning the lake
through his telescope. Watson appears through the open
French window behind him.
WATSON
(excitedly)
Holmes, I saw it again -- that thing --
it came from the castle -- it's out there
--
LOCH NESS - THROUGH TELESCOPE - DAY
A trial of bubbles is moving along the surface. Suddenly
there is a muffled explosion from below, and a geyser of
water shoots up into the air.
EXT. BALCONY - HOTEL - DAY
Holmes slowly lowers the telescope.
HOLMES
It was out there. Now it's gone.
WATSON
Gone?
132.
HOLMES
Forever. Look for yourself.
LOCH NESS - THROUGH TELESCOPE - DAY
There is a great turbulence in the water. Up to the
surface pops the bottle of christening champagne, with
rope and ribbons still attached. Then a copy of the
Bible pops up.
EXT. BALCONY - HOTEL - DAY
WATSON
A bottle of champagne?... and a Bible?...
HOLMES
That's all that's left of H.M.S. Jonah.
He steps through the window as a puzzled Watson lowers
the telescope.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Watson follows Holmes in from the balcony.
HOLMES
It would seem that somebody carelessly
loosened the bolts of the submersible.
What a fitting end for Trappists -- now
they are resting in eternal silence at
the bottom of the lake.
WATSON
(to Gabrielle)
Do you know what he's talking about?
Through the open doorway comes Mycroft. In the corridor
behind him is one of his aides.
MYCROFT
Fraulein von Hoffmanstal?
GABRIELLE
Yes, Mr. Holmes. I'm all ready.
133.
MYCROFT
If there's one thing I like about the
Prussians, it's their punctuality.
GABRIELLE
If there's one thing I dislike about the
British, it's their climate. I
understand your jails are quite damp --
and your heating facilities totally
inadequate.
MYCROFT
They are. But you're not going to jail.
You're going back to Germany.
GABRIELLE
Germany?
MYCROFT
You will be conducted to the Swiss-German
border, and be exchanged for one of our
agents -- a man named Ibbetson.
GABRIELLE
Thank you.
MYCROFT
Don't thank me. Thank my brother. It
was his idea.
Gabrielle looks at Holmes, but he avoids her eyes.
MYCROFT
(to Gabrielle)
Frankly, I think we are making a very
poor deal. You much better than most
operatives working for British
intelligence.
(turning to Holmes)
Don't you agree, Sherlock?
HOLMES
(with a small but gallant bow
to Gabrielle)
And better than some consulting
detectives.
Mycroft signals to his aide, who comes in from the
corridor and picks up Gabrielle's bag.
134.
MYCROFT
(to Gabrielle)
Shall we?
GABRIELLE
(reaching for parasol)
I'll take that.
(to Holmes and Watson)
Gentlemen.
She turns and walks out the door, Mycroft following.
Watson's bewilderment has now reached monumental
proportions.
WATSON
(folding his arms)
All right, Holmes -- you don't have to
explain anything to me, if you don't want
to.
HOLMES
I appreciate that, Watson.
WATSON
After all, I'm only your official
biographer --
HOLMES
Anyway, I don't think she'd care to have
this story spread all over Strand
Magazine.
WATSON
The public has a right to know these
things. If she's a German spy, why
should we concern ourselves about her
feelings?
Holmes crosses to a small window overlooking the
courtyard of the hotel, opens it, looks out.
EXT. HOTEL - DAY
Mycroft's aide comes out of the hotel with Gabrielle's
suitcase, loads it into an open carriage waiting in front
of the entrance. Gabrielle emerges, carrying her parasol,
and accompanied by Mycroft. He helps her into the
carriage, gets in beside her.
135.
The aide joins the coachman, and the carriage drives off.
Gabrielle does not look back toward the hotel.
EXT. SMALL WINDOW - HOTEL - DAY
Holmes is framed in the open window, watching the
carriage. Watson comes up behind him.
WATSON
If I promised not to write a word about
it, would you enlighten me? As your
friend -- as your valet --
HOLMES
Quiet. I'm trying to read a personal
message.
WATSON
A message?
EXT. DRIVEWAY - DAY
The carriage is moving away from the hotel. Gabrielle
has her parasol over her shoulder, and it opens and
closes, opens and closes.
GABRIELLE - IN MOVING CARRIAGE - DAY
She continues to signal with the parasol, unnoticed by
Mycroft.
EXT. SMALL WINDOW - HOTEL - DAY
Watson is straining forward to see out the window.
WATSON
What is she saying?
HOLMES
(slowly)
Auf Wiedersehn.
WATSON
Auf Weider---? The nerve!
136.
EXT. DRIVEWAY - DAY
The carriage disappears down an avenue of trees,
Gabrielle's parasol still flashing its message.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BAKER STREET - DAY
There is snow on the ground, and drifts of it piled up
along the curbs. Traffic is light. Householders are
shovelling the snow off the sidewalks, and pedestrians
are hurrying along bundled up against the cold.
INT. LIVING ROOM - 221B BAKER STREET - DAY
Holmes, in his dressing gown, and Watson, in his smoking
jacket, are at the breakfast table. There is snow on the
window-sills, and a cozy fire is burning in the grate.
Watson is reading the morning paper. Holmes is sorting
through his mail.
HOLMES
(holding up envelope)
H'mmm. A letter from the Diogenes Club.
WATSON
Maybe Mycroft is putting you up for
membership.
HOLMES
If only to have the distinct pleasure of
blackballing his brother.
He has slit open the envelope. Watson watches him
curiously as he reads the letter, but Holmes' face
remains expressionless. Slowly he puts down the letter,
rises, crosses to the window, stands there staring out
into the wintry street.
WATSON
Aren't you going to finish your
breakfast?
Holmes doesn't answer. Watson takes a lump of sugar out
of the bowl with a pair of tongs, drops it into his
coffee.
137.
Then glancing over his shoulder to make sure Holmes isn't
watching, he swivels the letter around with the tongs.
It is written on Diogenes Club stationery, and reads:
9th December, 1888
Dear Sherlock,
My sources in Tokyo inform me that Ilse
von Hoffmanstal was arrested last week by
the Japanese counter-intelligence service
for spying on naval installations in
Yokohama harbour. After a secret trial,
she was summarily executed by a firing
squad.
It might interest you to know that
The page ends at this point. Watson turns the sheet of
paper over with the tongs. The letter continues on the
other side.
she had been living in Japan these past
few months under the name of Mrs.
Ashdown.
Sincerely,
Mycroft
Watson looks toward Holmes, who is still standing with
his back to the room, gets up from the table.
WATSON
Holmes -- I'm terribly sorry about this.
HOLMES
(quietly, without turning)
Where is it, Watson?
WATSON
(after a beat)
In the files. May to July, 1885.
Holmes turns to the bookshelves above the desk. From a
row of similar volumes, he slides out the three files
marked MAY, JUNE, and JULY 1885. Actually, it's the
medical bag, standing on end, with the spines of three
volumes pasted on the bottom.
HOLMES
You're getting better.
138.
He sets the bag down on the desk, opens it, takes out a
bottle of cocaine. Watson watches him with compassion as
he crosses to his bedroom with his cocaine, goes in,
shuts the door.
Footsteps are heard hurrying up the stairs, and after a
moment there is a knock on the door. Watson approaches
the door, opens it to reveal INSPECTOR LESTRADE -- a
short, nervous man whose features are sharper than his
mind. He is wearing an overcoat, his bowler is in his
hands, and his fingers are drumming on the crown.
LESTRADE
Good morning, Watson.
(stepping in)
Just happened to be in the neighborhood,
and I thought --
WATSON
What is it this time, Inspector Lestrade?
LESTRADE
We've had three rather nasty murders in
Whitechapel. All ladies of easy virtue.
You may read something about it -- the
newspapers are referring to the killer as
Jack the Ripper.
WATSON
Yes, I think I have.
LESTRADE
Some of us at Scotland Yard were
wondering if perhaps Mr. Holmes would be
willing to --
WATSON
(a glance toward the bedroom)
I'm sorry, Lestrade. But at the moment,
Holmes is working on another problem.
LESTRADE
(trying to hide his
disappointment)
Oh... Well, I just thought it was the
kind of case that might interest him. I
dare say we can solve it without his
help.
139.
WATSON
Oh, I'm sure you will.
From Holmes' bedroom comes the sound of a melancholy tune
being played on the violin. Watson starts to ease
Lestrade out of the door.
WATSON
Good day, Lestrade.
He shuts the door after him, listens to the sound of the
violin for a moment. Then he crosses to the wicker
chair, seats himself. He takes some sheets of paper out
of the rack and places them on the writing arm, dips his
pen in the inkwell, starts to write.
The violin music continues OVER SCENE, infinitely
romantic, infinitely sad.
FADE OUT.
THE END
